“This is just embarrassing,” Renewal said, leaning back in her chair and tossing a chocolate into her mouth. “I’m actually starting to feel like a bit of a fraud.”
“That speaks well for you,” Decras replied. He stretched his arms out over his head before rising to his feet. “The Order does not encourage self-reflection. For someone who served as long as you did under their heel, you have kept a remarkable amount of yourself intact.”
That would probably be because I always hated my damn job. It was nice when the mortals in the line were interesting, but that was so far and few in between that it was generally just a pain in the ass. I did the bare minimum and spent the rest of my time daydreaming.
Renewal coughed into her fist. She looked from Decras to the moving image floating in the air before them. Noah and his ever-growing group of students shimmered within it. For once, instead of teaching, the fascinating mortal stood off to the side with Moxie.
Everyone’s attention was focused on Alexandra instead of him. She was desperately trying to manage an explanation of her pattern and failing miserably at it. For all the talent and raw determination the girl possessed, she was absolutely horrible at teaching.
“You’d think she doesn’t actually know what she’s doing,” Renewal said, pinching the bridge of her nose with a grimace. “I’m seriously embarrassed. She managed to form a Fragment of Self so young. Younger than I was when I first made mine — but she’s got so little confidence in herself that it sounds more like Noah gave her the rune.”
“I agree. The girl will need to practice. She needs to be more arrogant,” Decras said with a nod.
“Arrogant? Hardly. Confidence doesn’t need arrogance. She just needs some more experience. I suppose that’s what she’s getting right now, but it certainly isn’t pretty.”
“Much of life is convincing yourself to become what you must be. Confidence rarely comes on its own. Arrogance paves the way to it… and arrogance forces improvement. You cannot stay arrogant if you are not powerful.”
“I’ve met a number of arrogant idiots.”
“And how long do they live?”
Renewal paused for a moment. Then she inclined her head. “I’ll give you that one. I rather like the girl’s personality as it is, though. Not everyone has to be like your disciples. Look at Ferdinand. He’s not arrogant at all, but he’s managed to tame your little monster.”
“Garina is not tamed. She is merely… fed.” Decras didn’t sound too confident about his own words.
Renewal smirked and arched an eyebrow. “Is there really a difference? Not even you managed to get her to do what you want.”
“Your shiny bald fool hasn’t gotten her to do anything he wants either.”
“That would be because he doesn’t want anything other than her company.” Renewal didn’t bother hiding the smug tone in her words. “He’s just happy making her sandwiches and doing nothing. They’re so cute.”
“Their relationship is… surprisingly enjoyable,” Decras allowed. “And I am pleased to see Garina happy. She has been alone for too long. Even power cannot replace companionship, and she never got along with the rest of the Disciples.”
“She isn’t the only one,” Renewal said, glancing at Decras out of the corners of her eyes. “I recall you’ve got another little pain in the ass running around on that world. One who likes sticking his nose into places it doesn’t belong.”
“You are referring to Revin? He’s hardly one of mine. Not anymore. Even the apostles generally know to keep their distance from him. The fool’s mind is shattered like a dropped plate. Even I can’t predict what it is he desires.”
“Seems like he’d fit into the Fallen pretty well.” The corner of Renewal’s lip twitched in amusement. “He certainly wouldn’t get on well with the Order.”
If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
“Should he ever acquire enough strength to ascend to godhood, I think both the Order and the Fallen will find him equally distasteful. There is a difference between Chaos and pure insanity. He is unstable. Dangerous.”
That gave Renewal pause. Revin was strong for a mortal, but that shouldn’t have been nearly enough to warrant the tone of Decras’ voice. It almost sounded like the god respected Revin.
“Should… we take a look?” Renewal hedged. “Just to make sure he isn’t doing anything too dangerous?”
“He has ways of shrouding his presence, even from me. I cannot expend too much effort looking or I will draw more attention than we want,” Decras replied. But, despite his words, he lifted a hand toward the shimmering image. His features creased in concentration. “But I will see if he is in an exhibitionist mood. He does tend to enjoy an audience.”
***
A knock echoed through a dark cave, ringing against the stone like the tolling of a funeral bell. The air in the cave was still and stagnant; the only light in it came from a distant crack in the ceiling far above.
That light was just enough to illuminate the specks of dust twisting through the air in a misty haze above a cloaked man. He stood before an ancient altar. Both the man and the altar’s features were concealed by the deep, consuming darkness around them.
The echo of the knock faded into the empty cave. Then there was nothing but silence. Several long seconds dragged by. Then the cloaked man lifted his hand and knocked against the altar again. It was a practiced knock, one that seemed to follow some manner of tune.
Echoes rolled out and faded away; silence ruled once more.
The cloaked man scratched the back of his head. “I swear I’m doing this right. Damned Plains, this is such a pain in the ass. Am I in the wrong cave? No, I couldn’t be. How many caves have a random altar in the middle?”
He raised his hand to knock for a third time.
Then the ground cracked. Stone crunched and shattered as a hand pushed up from beneath it, clawing its way to the surface like a corpse arising from the afterlife. Streaks of yellow-orange torchlight broke free from the ground, spilling up into the room as the hand yanked itself back underground.
It reappeared a moment later alongside a second hand, breaking even more of the stone and sending it tumbling into a well-lit chamber below where the hooded man stood. The hands were followed by a head and then a body.
Another man clambered up into the cave, brushing the dust and debris from his clothes fruitlessly.
“Can never find the damn door,” the man muttered. “Everyone thinks secret entryways are brilliant until they hide them too well. Then what? What good is a hidden door when even the guy that hid it in the first place can’t find it?”
The cloaked man let the hand that had been just about to start knocking against the altar drop. “I—”
“Never mind that. I’ll just make a new door later,” the newcomer said with a shake of his head, cutting the other one off before he could even try to answer. “Who are you, and why are you banging around on my ceiling?”
“I’m fairly certain this is exactly what you told me to do if I were to come looking for you,” the cloaked man replied.
“Hmm. Is that so?” the dust-covered man frowned and squinted at the other one. “Are you certain? I don’t believe we’ve met.”
This chapt𝙚r is updated by freeωebnovēl.c૦m.
“Absolutely certain. Trust me, yours is a face that’s hard to forget. You spent nearly ten minutes describing the exact sequence of tasks I had to accomplish if I was to locate you again. I followed your directions exactly — and I’d like to point out that they were terrible. You sent me to a dozen random useless caves before this one. Regardless, I can assure you this wasn’t a spot I wished to find myself in. I’d have taken any other option first had they been available. Unfortunately, things have taken a turn for the worse. Thus, I am here.”
“You didn’t want to speak with me and yet you came anyway?” the other man scratched his chin. “Well, we’ve definitely met.”
“Has anyone ever told you how insufferable you are?”
“Oh, all the time.” The man’s lips pulled apart. Yellow light filtering into the dark cave from the hole he’d made in the ground caught on his teeth — two rows of razor sharp fangs like those of a demon twisted into a wide, dangerous smile. “Remind me your name, boy?”
“I am no boy. I am an Inquisitor. The bodies in my wake have ensured that I will never be young again.”
The sharp-toothed man let out a cackle. “How long did it take you to come up with that one? Practice it in the mirror before you went to sleep sucking on a candy?”
“I don’t eat candy before bed. It’s bad for my teeth.”
“So it is. So is seeking me out, so you must really have a death wish. Your name, Inquisitor.”’
“I am Tillian. Tillian of the Crimson Wake, Inquisitor of the Red Lady.”
“Ah, yes. I do remember you now. That insufferably long title reeks of either arrogance or idiocy, but I’m not one to be shown up if we’re doing proverbial dick-measuring. Always been a fan of the sport.” The other man’s grin stretched impossibly far across his features, far wider than any human mouth should have been able to manage. “I hope you had a damned good reason to come seeking Revin the Godeater, Inquisitor, because you have found him.”