Hierarchy (Book Four of the Torrent Skies Saga)

Chapter Fifty-Two: Wishes Do Come True, Pt 2

Katerin placed her hand between Oshir's two larger ones. His long fingers at first felt delicate, but within them there was a deep, almost ageless strength. He smiled and patted the top of her hand. "How many times do you think anyone has tried to kill a deity? How many times do you think we have tried to kill Lodyne?"

Katerin blinked at the question. "Twice?" she said, having no real clue.

"Many, many more than that." Oshir's voice was saddened. "Gods have died before, but for mortals, the attempt is a suicidal thing. Except in the case of the Reclaimers, I suppose. Though, their story is worse, for it's ending." Oshir's grip tightened like a vice upon Katerin's hand. "Close your eyes. You will see, and I will tell. Know that this is not a story of the constructs you have studied and prepare yourself."

Katerin closed her eyes, thinking only of her hand in Oshir's. And then, she was no longer in an office, no longer in Ilistrish, no longer herself.

She watched as three people fought against a group who wore the bare minimum of clothing, banished flails, all of whom were scarred, some even bleeding from wounds they had gained previously. All of them bore Lodyne's symbol, carved into their flesh. She recognized her mother, easily. Sulea was younger, but she moved like an embodiment of death.

"The Reclaimer's as we know them, were three. Sulea, Ralore, and Barthanes. All of them devout to our order, named 'The Reclaimer's' for how much they retook in our name. They grew emboldened, by too many successes. Your mother has been a leader in this guild for some time. She has a talent for success and survival where everyone else would surely fail. But she was young." Oshir's voice sounded distant, but yet close, as if it were her own thoughts, in a different tone. "They took it upon themselves, to find Lodyne's realm, and put an end to her. No simple task. What you see is their journey, their struggle, and all the intention behind it."

The images continued, and Katerin watched her mother, and the two other forms, one very short, surely gnomish, using magic that looked effortless. He must have been Ralore, and her mind spun at the implication of that. The other man was clad in plate armor, wielding a sword that gleamed so vividly it seemed to have its own personality, wielded by a barrel chested man, whose voice carried his cries to his companions boisterously, emboldening them. They fought past Lodyne's servants, and made their way into a hazy place, as if the details were not quite clear. It was dark, and Katerin could smell the distinct odor of blood, and hear echoing cries of anguish. Some details were vivid. Entrails on the floor of a room, no body present. A young girl, of only twelve, her face a mix of scars and blood, chanting that all her beauty be given to the lady of pain. All her pain enlivened her. Then other, more gruesome things, all, were sights witnessed by the trio as they fought and sneaked onward.

After another moment of haziness, where Katerin could almost feel Oshir's hand's over hers, they were in another place. A dark, alien landscape. Where the mountains stood at odd, confusing angles, no plants grew, and strange creatures abounded. Here, she saw glimpses of her mother's taught face, pressed, and worried, as Ralore, with vivid hair and eyes.... Eyes so familiar. Where did she know those eyes?

Ralore stood over Barthanes, and all of them looked at a wound. It wasn't serious, but painful. The ruddy complexion of his cheeks swelled, as Barthanes told them not to worry over him as they bound his leg. His silvered hair glinted in the dim light of their torches. It had not been silvered before. The wound was poisoned. But still they traveled, and traveled, so long Katerin wondered if the journey took days or years. Barthanes never got rid of that limp, and his hair stayed streaked with silver. The more she saw of the three, the more familiar they became. She felt as if she knew them.

No.

She did know them. She knew their purpose, and she could see their determination. Lodyne had touched them, in some way, and so onward they trudged, without a thought of faltering. They had felt all the doubt that she had, and had known the power, and the madness of the Goddess's presence.