Chapter 472 - A Disgruntled God (Start of Book 7)

A new book begins! Got a lot of outlining done over the last week so I'm feeling particularly organised at the moment. I have an unusually concrete plan for me which feels great.

“Before we begin,” Hump said to the disgruntled god standing before him. “I feel like it’s important to reiterate that we had nothing to do with your beloved’s death. She was dead long before we found her.”

“You have said as much,” Loften said. “It is the only reason you still live.”

Hump swallowed nervously, trying to think through his racing heart. The Rivers and Waves helped, but there was a lot of nervousness to throw to them right now and he was running very low on both essence and willpower.

Movement behind Loften caused him to turn. Emilia appeared, rapier in hand, an injured Dylan leaning over her shoulders, Nisha tiredly snarling at her side. Even missing one arm, the druid looked ready to fight. That changed very quickly when he saw Bud on one knee, head bowed.

“Stop it, Nisha,” Hump snapped. “Not someone you can growl at.”

The dragon’s growl turned to a confused whine, and she tilted her head, watching Hump with confusion.

“Dylan, Emilia,” Hump called. “This is Lord Loften.”

“Lord Loften?” Emilia repeated with a frown. “As in…”

“As in one of the Twelve,” Hump finished. “The amulet is his.”

“It is my wife’s,” Loften said. “My patience wears thin. Speak your piece now before it is gone entirely.”

Hump shared a look with Celaine at his side. She nodded. Despite who was before them, she still had her bow in hand, an arrow on the string.

“We found your wife in the Remnant Realm,” Hump began. He gave Loften a brief explanation of their travel there, accessing it through wizard temples much like the one they stood in now. He briefed the god on their battle with the gorger and then the discovery of a vault within a petrified village. There, they found the woman—her body still preserved—the Heartkeeker amulet around her neck.

There was a long silence. Loften was expressionless, but Hump felt the weight behind his eyes, and the grief in his aura.

“How did she die?”

“I suspect she died trying to protect the village,” Hump said. “One of her arms was petrified, much like the people and things in the village. I detected the essence of… Osidium in the magic.”

Rage. Loften’s fists clenched.

Pure, violent, rage.

Loften’s aura soared with it. His essence blazed, illuminating the room in blue light. It was almost overwhelming, but Hump braced his soul and his mind then faced it standing. He clenched his teeth, letting Loften’s power wash over him.

“My Lord,” Bud said, still kneeling. “Surely this is a misunderstanding.”

“Do not presume to calm a storm you do not understand, Knight of Kelisia. This is is not your concenern.” He unclenched his fist slowly, one finger at a time as if it were bound, then extended his hand toward Hump. “Give me the amulet.”

Hump didn’t hesitate to hand it over. Part of him almost asked what was in it for him, though his gut told him this wasn’t the time. Better to stay on the angry god’s good side. Though… he was returning it to its rightful owner. Surely that deserved a reward of some kind.

An image flashed in his mind from Nishari—Celaine glaring daggers at his back, bow in hand.

Hump kept his mouth shut.

Loften held up the amulet, letting it dangle from its chain. There was a pulse of essence, and a golden flame flickered within. Hump sensed a presence in there, though it was only faint. The memory of something more. A sliver of a soul.

“Even now, here light flickers.” A tear ran down Loften’s cheek. “Thank you for returning her to me.”

There was a long silence as Loften continued to watch the flame. Bud rose to his feet. Hump glanced at him to see a face more confused than anyone’s. He could only imagine what the knight was going through. Here was one of the Twelve, in another realm, and caught up in a conflict with a fellow god of the Pantheon. After what the traitor Chosen, Godfrey, had told them about the gods, and Owalyn… and the Book of Infinite Pages, there had to be some doubts.

The thought made Hump shift his body to turn his spellbook away from Loften. If the tale Owalyn told him was true, Loften was one of the beings that stole the powers of the Wandering Wizard. If he found out Hump possessed his book, there was a risk things would take a turn for the worst.

Hump cleared his throat. “What happens now?”

The man—the god—stared down at him with those clouded eyes, the white mist swirling slowly within. He lowered his arm and held the amulet tight. Hump felt the fight in Loften—the rage from before returned briefly… and then it faded. A look of resignation came over his face. His shoulders slumped. The aura of invincibility diminished to nothing. Suddenly, he looked old and frail. His hair and beard greyed, his skin wrinkled, his very form shrank until he was little taller than Bud. No longer did Hump sense a god before him, but a defeated man.

“Now? Now I mourn.”

“What about us?” Hump asked. “We need to get home.”

“What are your names?” Loften asked.

Hump frowned. “I am Wizard Humphrey. With me are my good friends, Robert Blackthorne, Emilia Rike, Celaine of Drakalyn, and Dylan, Chosen of Krioc.”

“You are welcome in my domain,” Loften said. “I shall direct you to Bright City. From there, you are free to do as you wish.”

“My lord, your hospitality is most generous,” Bud said, “but we cannot stay here. Elenvine is under attack as we speak. The last of the Twelve Seals has been destroyed. The veil is open!”

“Do you think I don’t know that?” Loften asked. “It was I that crafted them. The veil may be open, but the bridges are gone. I cannot rebuild what the Pantheon destroyed.”

“There must be a way,” Bud stammered. “You are Loften, the Builder, the Rune Lord, one of the Twelve! Your people need you.”

Loften let out a soft chuckle and shook his head. “Not anymore.”

Bud took a step back, his face white as if he’d seen a ghost. “What has become of you? Why are you here? Where are the other gods.”

“I was exiled,” Loften said. “The others bound me to this place, stripped me of my power, and tethered me to a world crumbling into nothing. A dying world, held together only by what essence and skill I have left.”

Hump spoke before Bud could express the shock written across his face. “What do you mean by held together?”

Loften reached into the pouch at his hip and took out a round metal plate, no larger than his palm. Its surface shimmered faintly with embedded runes. With a subtle press of his thumb, the metal teeth around its centre clicked and slowly peeled back like the petals of a mechanical flower, revealing a core of pure essence.

A pulse of magic rippled through it. Light burst from the cenre, expanding outward into a three-dimensional illusion that hovered in the air above. A fractured sphere slowly rotated in place. It looked like a world shattered and then only partially reassembled, its fragments held together by enormous beams of essence, anchoring each floating fragment around a radiant core at the centre.

Hundreds of pieces made up the sphere. ome bore forests with trees taller than castle spires. Others were mountainous, with white-capped peaks and gushing waterfalls that plummeted into the centre the air, only to swoop up and spiral to other islands. Scattered among the wilds were signs of civilisation—villages clinging to cliff faces, cities built atop floating plateaus, towers and spires reaching skyward.

“Is that a map?” Hump asked.

“In a simple manner, yes,” Loften said. “This allows me to monitor my runework and ensure it is stable. But it illustrates what remains of this world. Without me, it collapses into the void, and this is the limit of my power. I cannot help you. I cannot even help myself.”

Loften made for the door.

Hump’s mind scrambled for ideas. Anything. There had to be a way.

His mind went to Owalyn, and the promise he had made to her.

Loften was not the first god bound to the Pantheon he had met.

“What if we can free you?” Hump blurted out. “If we can destroy the chains that bind you, will you help us?”

Loften turned back to him, his defeated expression turned to one of thought.

“I am the enemy of your gods,” Loften said. “You would undo their work?”

“None of this makes any sense,” Bud said. “How can you be their enemy? We still worship you. Your Chosen still walk Alveron! Your runes give us artifacts.”

Loften let out a bitter laugh. “You worship shadows. Echoes. My spark was stolen. The runes your people use a forged by thieves who wear my name like a mask.”

“Your spark?” Hump asked.

“The Spark of Divinity,” Loften said. “The flame from which all gods transcend.”

Hump’s eyes widened. He remembered Owalyn’s verses—the things stolen from the Wandering Wizard. From the owner of the Book of Infinite Pages.

“So fight,” Celaine said. “Take it back. If not for yourself, then for your wife. She was killed, wasn’t she?”

“It is impossible. You cannot reach me.”

“We have fought liches, demon lords and devils, warlocks and ninth circle traitor Chosen,” Hump said. “Help us return home, and we will get you out. Just tell us how.”

Loften looked over them, measured, considering. They were the eyes of a man that Hump didn’t trust—desperate yet scheming. But what choice did they have?

The map reappeared, turning to a section. “I am sealed in the deepest depths of this dungeon,” Loften said. “Guarded by servants of Light herself. Do you understand what it is you are volunteering for? I can help you return home, but I cannot protect you from their wrath.”

“Warlocks invaded Elenvine unperturbed,” Hump said. “Lady Light’s ninth circle Chosen betrayed her and broke the final seal. Do you know what they did?”

Loften’s brow furrowed.

“Nothing,” Hump finished.

“Nothing?” Loften asked.

“It is not the wrath of the gods I fear right now,” Hump said. “It is being stranded on this world while my own is destroyed.”

Loften’s head turned down in thought. “If you wish for this, then go to Urandel. I will leave instructions with one of my High Priests to offer you aid and ensure your friend’s injury is tended to. It is a long way.”

“Why can’t you take us there yourself?” Hump asked.

“My time on this plane is limited. Already, I near my limit and will fall into a deep sleep. Now come. I must show you the way before it is too late.”

They stepped out into the twilight. The air shifted, warmer than the halls they left behind, tick with the scent of ancient woodland. A lavender sky stretched overhead, scattered with unfamiliar stars. None of them matched the constellations he knew. It made it feel so real—that this wasn’t Alveron.

And he saw the fragments of land for himself. Islands of stone, great and small, hung suspended in the air. Vast cliffs pierced the clouds, ringed with ivy-draped rocks, drifting like slow moons in orbit. Vines as thick as tree trunks reached between them, tethering stone to stone like strands of a colossal spider web. Many were filled with trees. And great pillars of power shot out from the centre of the world to each of the large ones, radiant with blue essence.

A flock of creatures moved between some of the islands, gliding on vast feathered wings. Nisha stared at them eagerly, her instincts burning to hunt, though she repressed them, remaining calmly at his side.

They stood within a forest glade. Trees towered like great towers, their bark silvered and glowing faintly in the dusk. Their leaves shimmered with hues of jade and violet, rustling in the gentle breeze. Bioluminescent moss clung to their roots, light the undergrowth.

“There.” Loften pointed to an island floating far in the distance, the city atop it sparkling like a jewel. “Reach Urandel and go to my temple. I must leave you now. When I wake, I will offer what aid I can.”

“Lord Loften,” Bud said. “I believe we are here for a purpose. We have walked the path of the gods, and it guided us here. Perhaps we were meant to find you.”

“I think that unlikely,” Loften said.

“I don’t know why the gods could not fight with us,” Bud said. “But there must be a reason. We will free you and find out together.”

“Understand this, Robert Blackthorne. I am no friend of the Pantheon. Free me, and I shall seek out Osidium with single minded purpose.”

With that, Loften faded to essence, his physical form vanishing to blue light on the wind.

Emilia and Dylan came to his side, Emilia taking his hand and squeezing.

“This cannot be,” Bud said softly. “I… don’t understand. There must be some mistake.”

“It is strange,” Celaine said. “Why bind one of their own here?”

“Next time we speak, maybe we can find out,” Hump said. “Lately, it feels like there’s far too much I don’t understand.”