The Heavenly Host

Lenamare’s greater demon came in for a landing. He still gave Jenn a queasy feeling. “Well then,” the big demon boomed, “How about fighting an adult? Man to man, rather than slaughtering children for sport?” There was some consternation in the room; it sounded like others found this statement as disturbing as Jenn.

Transcript of Greater Demon vs. Knight Rampant of Tiernon[8]

Jenn soon ceased to think or question; all she could do was watch in horrified fascination along with the rest of the room as the scene played out as it had that morning. As the events unfolded, there were various gasps and an occasional cheer, but mostly ahhhs and indrawn breaths, particularly towards the end.

The viewing ended and everyone sat there in silence. It was beyond shocking; Jenn wondered if the entire Council of Wizardry had ever been rendered speechless before.

“So, Lenamare,” Davron spoke up. “How sure are you that you summoned a type IV demon?”

“Uhm...” Lenamare said, sweat visible on his brow. “Uh...” Jenn nearly choked; she had never seen Lenamare so speechless.

Trevin snapped, “Stop teasing Lenamare, Davron.” She shook her head. “Are we in any way agreed on what we might have seen? Obviously, we have no wizard’s sight view of the event — it is just a visual recording — but given the behavior of the priests, it appears that Lenamare’s demon linked up with... what, five high priests and hijacked their divine links? The links between themselves and their flocks? And then at the end, the healing mana and the artifact... Was it pulling mana from the heavens? From Tiernon’s own infrastructure? Is that what we saw?”

The room suddenly burst into pandemonium as people tried to voice their opinions on what they saw. “Excuse me. Excuse me!” Alexandros Mien spoke up, and everyone else quieted down. “I’m sorry, but before we debate that, could I have you back up to the point shortly after Lenamare’s demon hit the ground with its limbs chopped off?”

Damien nodded.

“Thank you, dear boy,” the elderly wizard said. Damien backed up to the point when the type IV hit the ground. “Now, stop — good. I want you to zoom out and scroll up and to the right. See there up in the air, above the fight, over the camp.” There were whispers; no one seemed to know what the old wizard wanted to see.

“Zoom in if you can.” Damien zoomed in as the wizard nodded in confirmation of what he had seen. The small object in the sky was a flying carpet with people on it — three people.

“Oh, shit,” Gandros stated slowly. The rest of the room gasped as well. On the flying carpet, apparently having a picnic, were Councilor Exador, an extremely dark-skinned woman in a revealing dress, and a man wearing leather straps with two straight-edged, single-sided blades over his shoulders.

There were gasps in the room.

Maelen said aloud, “Ramses the Damned.”

“Bastet, Defender of Home,” Trevin D’Vils stated equally loudly.

Maelen suddenly made a noise like he’d just swallowed wrong. Jenn glanced over at him; he was staring straight ahead and was looking extremely pale for some reason. She hoped he was okay.

“Exador?” Randolf exclaimed. Chatter broke out again.

“Silence, one at a time!” Lord Gandros exclaimed, and everyone quieted down. “Very well, first things first. Thanks to Maelen here” — he pointed to Maelen, who seemed to be pulling himself back together quickly — “we were suspicious that Ramses the Damned might be wandering in the Palace. Now we have that confirmed.” There was a lot of talk among various associates with their Council members confirming this. Randolf, of course, had heard none of this and was looking particularly flustered.

“Enough, let us continue,” Gandros stated. “It is becoming clear who our archdemons are, or were.” Randolf sputtered, but Gandros waved him down.

“Trevin, what was the name you mentioned?” Gandros asked.

“Bastet, Defender of Home,” Trevin D’Vils stated. “She is, or rather was, a goddess worshipped on the continent of Natoor, on the far side of Eton, more than a thousand years ago. She is from the forgotten Nyjyr Ennead pantheon. She was a defender of house and home, a protector of her people. She was considered a good goddess, not evil. She is definitely not an archdemon. The Etonians displaced them; their troops and knights drove the religion underground. As far as I know, no one has worshipped them in close to a thousand years.”

“So how do you know this?” Davron asked.

“I travel. Archaeology is a hobby of mine, and I’m always fascinated by powerful female goddesses.” Trevin shrugged. “I’ve seen her likeness on many old scrolls and stone carvings. She often appears like this, and sometimes with the head of a cat. A black cat.”

“Cat? Why a cat?” Randolf asked.

“The original Natoorians believed that cats brought good luck; they defended the home from mice and rodents, who would eat grain and damaged goods. And, given the cat’s affinity for magic, I can’t say I disagree with their judgment.”

Randolf shook his head.