Inferno Ascended

The Twin Strongholds, as they were called, could be seen in the distance as they exited the forest and entered the plain of Mytossus, which stretched beyond 'officially Echelian' territory to the plain where the Heramis Battle took place.

Alekos chattered incessantly about the history of the place. Of all of them, he had the most complete study. Being the son of the clan's Archigeos and destined for a position of leadership among the Echelians when he had enough experience, Alexander studied with the best warriors and strategists at the Echelion Academy. 

In addition, he had classes with philosophers who represented the purest ethos of his clan, so the 'Principles' and the interpretation the Echelians used to give to them, would guide his future and decisions.

But, of course, to Glax his protégé was a lot like a lot of kids of the same age on twenty-first-century planet earth. Airhead and obsessed with weird useless stuff.

"One of the biggest battles that ever took place in the previous generation was beyond those fortresses, when hordes of sylvans tried to invade Stygia." The boy lectured the older men.

"No wonder. All I see there are icy and rocky landscapes." Glax grumbled, remembering that the 'Sylvans' and even the fantastic creatures of the southern seas had to flee en masse to Erimos… forced to dwell in the worst part of Ascended Hell… or die.

"Our clan took the worst part of Stygia." Alekos insisted stubbornly. "But Fates wished that way."

"Our lands aren't the most fertile in all Stygia, in that regard Lord Alexandre is right. And our borders with Erimos are extensive. To be fair, only us and Pharys have borders with Erimos. But their frontiers are mostly uninhabited," Kal joined Alexos.

"That's why we have to be rock hard and never break the line!" Glax's pupil spoke with pride and resolve.

"I'm not going to play pacifist here, but if it were the other way around, wouldn't we do the same? If by chance a harvest was bad or a nasty winter were killing our tribes… Our only option would be to flee south to survive."

"In the case of that year, it was a monster, they say, that rose in Erimos. But what about it being our case? We would beat them at any time!"

The Valosian nodded, remembering that the losing side is always resentful. And remembering also that, according to Hermes, the gods of Olympus were taken by surprise with the revolt of the Titans… Who would have guessed it could happen one day… he thought with sarcasm.

Before simply reaching Rusa, the eastern stronghold, they presented themselves at a sentry tower and reported on their mission. They were allowed to continue along the road. 

Glax felt the appraising eyes on him and Alekos as soon as they knew who they were. Alexandre was already used to it, but not the recent champion of the Armoric Games.

Kal knew one of the soldiers on duty and ended up having a long conversation with him. 

While the Valosian and his ward waited, Glax took advantage of a moment of distraction and Alexander with the other rookies at their posts and walked away. He wanted to make sure as soon as possible that his time manipulation worked without the vselys clock, and even better.

He walked towards some ruins on the side of the road, where he hoped to be out of sight for a moment. 

How had that happened? Glax was sure the power was linked to the clock. The time manipulation only started working when he fell on top of the object. He was also sure his powers had increased as the orbs were drawn to the artifact.

Then he tried to make the same hand gesture, feeling a little pathetic about it.

He quickly discovered that he needed to interfere with an action in order to access the power. It was as if he needed to find an open door, about to change events, to make his interference. He learned he could subtly guide a minor event to happen. It was how he would change the future without changing the past. And that he, with much more effort, managed to alter the past, consequently altering the future consequences.

These were options that required an extraordinary degree of effort and concentration. Finally, he was exhausted and shaky as he finished his experiments with the route to which a drop of water would trickle over a log, and how to 'fix' a branch he had broken.

He sat down on what was left of the base of a column to rest, and kept dragging the toe of his sandal over a tile on the floor, as he tried to think of interesting ways to use what he had just discovered. Glax wanted to go beyond just defending or attacking.

Then he noticed the worn and dirty mosaic design on the floor of the crumbling old building. A very familiar caduceus was the main symbol!

"Hermes? Hermes! I don't believe it!" he exclaimed aloud, seeing where he was. 

Getting up, the Valosian began to look for more elements.

He found a headless statue, which had been glued and replaced on a plinth. At the foot of the statue, in winged sandals, Gla found tablets with requests.

'Hail, oh thou of many names, messenger of the ancient gods, traveller of many paths, protect my journey and my return.'

I call upon you, O Mysterious Winged Feet God, bestower of grace and eloquence, to bless me. Give me good health and shelter, strength and victory, deliver me from evil.'

'God of the Roads, I invoke thee, and implore your blessings. Allow me to travel swiftly, in secret and safety, and unhindered on my journeys! Prevent them from holding me back or slowing me down, obstructing my progress or deceptively leading me. Let me not be hurt or chased, assaulted or attacked on the way. Grant that I reach my goals, reach my destination, and reach the ends!'

'Hm, he still has fans!' Glax concluded. He needed to apologize to his divine intermediary. 

Or not?

The Valosian hesitated as he began to remove the armbands that Alexander's mother had given him. Hermes had shown interest. But… He had lost not only the sword but the weapon as well. Shouldn't he give something more substantial to keep the friendship on the same terms?

Glax ran a hand over the fabric of his tunic thoughtfully.

"Should I write something?"

"Yes, if you can write. Or you can buy a ready-made vote, if you don't know… Most warriors don't have much patience for reading and writing, you know…" Hermes spoke from beside him.

"Oh damn!"

"You've been more wary in the past." The god joked, stroking his headless statue and dusting it off.

"I haven't had a good time, you know?"

"Should I listen to your whining? You can pay a prostitute to hear your laments, Glax. Did you sell the divine artifact to walk around in a fancy outfit?"

"No. There was an accident." Glax immediately removed the scarlet tunic and placed it under the statue's feet. "Accept this robe, O HERMES! It's a valuable and rare gift. A hamadryad wove this garment with threads from Spider Arachne, the first and only Weaver Pro Master of Lydia! Original product!"

"Ah! I didn't expect such generosity, Glax! Aw, I'm thrilled!" God responded dramatically, but quickly changed the subject. "I can see you have made no progress on the mission."

"Lord Hermes, I can't get back to the capital because my father-in-law promised to kill me if I showed up there before I was a clan hero or something."

"Ah, excuses, excuses. How can I be a generous and benevolent god if it feels like I'm just spoiling you with things you throw away? And that every investment I make in you has only excuses in return?"

"Hey Lord Hermes, no need to trample on me, okay? I'm sorry enough. I need to get back to the focus of my investigation. But how do I do this if I have to stay in Marbium by order of the Echelian Supreme General? And besides, these robots…"

"If you're not capable, that's fine. Just say it. I'll find another protegé..." Hermes pouted and narrowed his eyes. Glax wondered if his patron god was strong enough to crush him with his power… But he remembered the Olympus was in ruins.

"Oh, don't be like that. Lord Hermes, as my patron, you made a terrible mistake!" Glax decided that begging forgiveness was irrelevant since none of this was really his fault. And if Hermes showed little interest in Glax's life, the Valosian should point out Hermes wasn't being a very efficient patron either...

And it worked. Hermes widened his eyes.

"Me?! A mistake?!"

"Yea. You told Mors about something you shouldn't, and he showed up here. Not only that. He communed with his twin brother Morpheus and they robbed me."

"Pffffffffhahahahah! They robbed you?!" the god laughed. "Yeah, maybe I made a mistake. Maybe I'm an incorrigible chatterbox, am I not? Ah, Mors… I thought I could trust you…" he mumbled to no one in particular, and his eyes gleamed with rancor and spite.

Glax crossed his arms, nodding.

"But we're not going to leave it at that, are we?" asked the god.