Inferno Ascended

"Who is he?" asked Kalliaris with the usual Echelian frankness.

"This is Mors… cellus. Marcellus. A friend." Glax announced, stepping into the quarters they'd been granted. Nothing more than a cell and cots, blankets reeking of herbs designed to ward off ticks and fleas, and damp straw on the floor. Alexandre slept and stirred, grumbling, when the light hit his face.

Mors had to put away his cloak of shadows, grumbling, as neither wanted the soldiers reacting in aggressive terror as they saw Death approaching.

"I always come here. I don't know why they care so much," Mors shrugged, accepting the suggestion not to look so imposing. 

But maybe he hadn't been expecting Kal's indifference, as the Aegean shrugged. 

"Okay. Is he from Pharys? With this name, he should be. Hi, Marcellus. Nice tunic… oh, Lord Glax, that's not your… Oh, okay. I will sleep now."

Kal turned to the wall and pulled back the cover.

Glax rolled her eyes. 'Does he really think we are…? Oh, it doesn't matter.'

He dried himself with a cloth. The cobwebs were invisible when dried, but Glax knew he couldn't get more than 10 feet away from Mors.

Death, now called Marcellus, sat on a cot, looking around carefully.

"As I was saying," Glax continued to explain in a low voice, "Rusa's commander will send a letter to Lord Arsenio of Marbium offering a temporary exchange. He wants us to do a special service for the clan, and in return he will send 50 soldiers to Marbium. Until then, I plan to go to the land of Antusas to ask Tychos for help."

"It's not the Antusa's land quite far from where we are? I don't want to go this far. Also, I thought they had one of the Gaia Channeling healers here."

"You mean, an iatromancer?"

"If that's their name…"

"They do. But the old geezer says he can't help save Tychos' life, or regain his moves. He doesn't want to help, in fact."

"And what the Moiras decide, isn't it under consideration?"

Glax thought for a moment before answering. Who were the Moiras again? Some kind of high-ranking entity who was above even to people like Mors?

"If you mean his fate is to die, I beg to differ. We men do not bow to fate that easily. We create medicines and ways to survive. That's why iatromancers exist for, in the first place. And… What about wars? Is it fate on one side or the other to lose? What is the meaning of war, then?"

"Humans are very inquisitive and stubborn, you mean."

"Gods seem to get angry when we don't take no for an answer," Glax scoffed.

"Humans don't have the strength to go against the Moiras' plan. It happens anyway."

"We humans can do whatever we want!" Glax declared, crossing his arms over his chest.

"'We humans…' Pffff." Mors laughed at Glax and his attitude.

Kal interrupted them.

"Can you guys stop talking about it? The gods may listen to all this hubris. I don't want to hang out with people the gods hate, please!"

Glax and Mors looked at each other, and laughed their asses off.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::

The next morning, Glax and the others watched as most of Rusa's soldiers gathered in the courtyard for Sun worship. 

The Sun and the Moon - Helios and Selene - were the official gods of Stygia, as well as the Ascended gods. All other religions were seen as unimportant and even controversial. 

Even the popular belief of the Invisible and Unnameable Old God, that is, the Eldest Uncle of Hermes, the Lord of the Underworld, Lord of the Dead, Hades, was unofficial and treated as a minor.

Then everyone went in line for the first meal of the day.

Marcellus, Glax's aristocratic friend, drew attention and the Valosian had to explain that he was friends with Glax's family and came to bring him a letter.

Glax would have to forge a letter again!

"Listen, Lord Mors, can't you do anything about this? I mean, come up with a way to make your presence more discreet and plausible?" Glax whispered to his unwanted companion.

"Why would I do that?"

"So as not to cause unnecessary friction?"

"If you die because they think you're a spy, everything will work itself out on my side."

"Sheesh. Don't you want to collaborate? It is your reputation that will be mocked before your home, back in Hades. Not mine. Don't forget that."

Mors pursed his lips at the truth of what Glax had said.

They were served on rye bread and beer. The Valosian was already getting used to barrack food, but the god grimaced.

"Lord Marcellus, why don't you wear your house symbol?" Alekos asked as they sat at the end of a long table. 

Even the soldiers standing nearby barely disguised that they were paying attention to the answer. Glax had already noticed that Alekos was not so easily swallowing 'Marcellus' presence, unlike Kal.

The silver-eyed god swallowed the hard bread with difficulty, which he forgot to soak in his drink like everyone else.

"Ah, Alek… Lord Alexandre, there is a reason, but I cannot reveal it. They sent me to stand beside the Champion of Armorion. There are important reasons I can't discuss, so please don't ask me again."

"Hmmm… I know. I know I'm just the champion's page, but I recognize nobility! I'd bet…"

"Of course you do, Alekos," Glax interjected, realizing that Alekos didn't intend to stop until he had his answer. "Measure your words like a good krios and seek courtesy, getting two principles right at once." He admonished his pupil to control him.

The boy sulked but nodded, going back to eating. 

Glax had to wait for Lord Arsenio's response in the Black Keep, while a messenger went to Marbium. 

Officially, 'Marcellus' explained in a few words he was a member of the imperial family sent to assess the champion Glax, as his fame had reached as far as the palace of Hylon.

The god should it was an effective explanation, the Valosian warrior realized. Mors really didn't care whether they could verify the veracity of his claims.

In any case, even if Mors had 'toned down' his noble and imposing figure, that alone was convincing enough to make anyone believe he was what he claimed to be.

In the meantime, he and Mors would put a little plan into action.

::::::::::::::::

Glax, Mors and Alekos entered Crios' temple, and respectfully sat down on the floor, as if waiting their turn to get close to the god's statue to say their prayers. They lit a small ceremonial brazier with a cone of incense for prayers.

One of Oenopides' acolytes spotted them and approached to warn them.

"Sorry, but our ritual will take time. We used to take up all morning, can't you come back later?"

"Is it a problem if we stay to watch?"

"Oh no. Crios' house is open to everyone. Just please don't interrupt or speak to Lord Oenopides."

"Don't worry," Glax said with a smile. "We didn't come in the way."

Of course, they were in a privileged position, as close as possible to the statue of the god and the skylight through which the light entered and smoke rose from the incense and sacred concoctions. And they could observe every movement of the iatromancer and his disciples.

Oenopides glanced at them quickly, but clearly remembering the unpleasant argument with Glax the day before, he looked away and pretended to ignore them. 

Although it was clear that he couldn't really ignore them, he kept shooting sidelong glances all the time.

"Time has come, Lord Mors." Glax started.

The fire under the braziers flickered ominously, worrying the acolytes. There were no gusts of wind or anything that could justify it. The iatromancer ordered the temple doors to be closed to prevent the fire from going out.

As soon as it was done, the fire went out completely.

Glax suppressed his laughter as he felt Alexander stiffen beside him in alarm. 

He put a hand on the boy's shoulder, to calm him down. "Shhhh. The iatromancer must not be pleasing the gods with his hubris about a power that does not belong to him…" he commented softly.

When the iatromancer looked directly at them, Glax and Mors glared back accusingly.

The man turned his back on them and ordered his assistants to light the fire again.

While they were working on it, the room got very dark. Glax noticed that a dark cloud had obstructed the light coming in through the skylight. 

The acolytes muttered, startled. Glax heard loud hums, like flying insects entering the temple.

"Argh!" Oenopides exclaimed, using a fan to keep the insects away from him. His acolytes rushed to help him, while others went to open the doors again.

"No, no! What are these insects?! Oh Almighty Crios, show your mercy!" shouted the iatromancer.

The censer in front of Glax exploded in light, making it the brightest spot in the room. Even the Valosian turned his face away from the sudden pyrotechnics.

OHHHHH!!!

The astonishment of those present was audible.

Everything suddenly ceased, and the iatromancer looked at them with eyes filled with suspicion, fear, and anger.

Glax and Mors glared accusingly at him.