He had originally planned on traveling to Sonsoliel, the city full of gods walking among humans. Instead he found himself sucked into an intergod conflict in a city closer at hand. Two factions, followers fighting in a holy war, belonged to the gods Hiriri and Tuzo, a fossilized tree god and a firebird respectively, who had battled for generations over some long forgotten slight. Surprisingly they were both gods he had never heard of before, intriguing him enough that he decided to travel though their domains. Once there he realized it was the perfect situation to observe the phenomena he was investigating, there would be plenty of resentful fallen souls to observe for consumption, though the realization made him just a little disgusted with himself.
He had yet to see either god, but he had landed in the city at the crux of the conflict, with each group inhabiting a section of the city disconnected from the other, the other non-affiliated inhabitants doing their best to avoid each group whenever the two met, times which inevitably ended in bloodshed.
‘There she is,’ whispered the charms street vendor, Voche, to him, pointing subtly with her chin. Elske had been doing his best to ingratiate himself with the locals, despite his clear lack of social tact, they had been more or less welcoming. Voche was pointing to the lich walking the streets. The prophet of Tuzo the firebird was a woman cloaked in a feathered-patterned robe, embroidery that almost seemed lit with flames itself, flickering iridescent under the misty light of the early morning. The dead woman’s skin was smoldering under the robe, raw muscle exposed. at her side was the handle to a sword, though the blade appeared to be missing. ‘Why does she only have half a weapon,’ Elske asked, not taking his eyes off the woman. ‘Oh! That’s the sword of the song, she has to sing as she wields it for it to cut. Her voice is otherworldly.’ Elske tilted his head, trying to catch one last glimpse of her as the prophet turned a corner. ‘Otherworldly in a good way?’ He asked, curious. Voche guffawed, ‘I wouldn’t say that, more like something you’d hear a dying animal make. But I suppose it gets the job done.’ She made a face, imagining the job getting done, presumably.
Voche was the first person he met in the city when he arrived, they had been entering the city gates together and had chatted while they waited for their travel papers to be reviewed. ‘Charms, talisman, and juju, but really I sell anything that brings peace of mind to people, good place for it here, lots of folks worried about their fortune,’ she had cheerfully said, happily barring her marketing plan to the younger traveler. ‘Isn’t that a bit predatory?’ Elske had asked, immediately regretting the question, he never really got the hang of making friends but had become somewhat more aware when he was putting his foot in his mouth. ‘Peace of mind, I’m simply giving people the peace of mind they need to carry on confidently in their lives. It's an important thing, peoples’ emotional state,’ she had replied, not at all disturbed by his lack of tact.
Once the pair within the city walls and Voche had set up her wares, she had coaxed him into giving talisman drawing a try, enthusiastically encouraging him to incorporate the arcane glyphs from his ancient texts. ‘Very good holy man, people will really love these, very mystical.’ Elske blushed, equal parts pleased with the praise and horrified that he was partaking in this farce. But it was very soothing to draw the scripts, transcribing the symbols onto the whisper thin paper, watching the fibers soak up the colorful inks. Voche had taken to calling him holy man, a term she insisted was an endearment, referencing his ability to translate ancient religious books. Was he a holy man, he wondered. He was essentially studying the gods, something a holy person did, even though his end goal was somewhat different. An unaffiliated monk, that's what he was, he thought ruefully, now even making holy text for the masses.
When he wasn’t attending Voche’s kiosk he was taking long walks in the city, uncovering a number of lingering ghosts. Vicious looking women and men with sad eyes of all ages cropped up nearby ramshackle buildings. The conflict had a way of spilling over into civilian affairs, no matter how the city tried to contain it. The government did their best to placate both sides while minimizing the damage to the city and the inhabitants therein, but couldn’t prevent all of the damage. Despite the constant destruction and mayhem, life persisted, vendors like Voche hocked their wares, children attended school, life went on.
‘What does this do?’ a woman asked, holding up a hazy heart shaped crystal charm. ‘Ah, good eye!’ Voche said, smiling at the woman conspiratorially. ‘I’ve had it for a long time, waiting for just the right person to give it to. It’s an enhydro agate, an agate stone with water trapped in its cavity, formed somewhere around fifty million years ago. Pretty impressive right? And listen to this!’ Voche held up the stone, shaking it slightly, producing a tiny rattle. ‘The rattle wards off sickness, makes the plague god think you are already having trouble breathing and he’ll leave you alone!’ The woman was obviously impressed, her eyes locked on the charm, intrigued, ‘and what are you looking for in exchange?’ she asked, finally looking up at Voche. ‘Oh, I’m not sure it's time to let it go just yet,’ she started, looking convincingly reluctant. ‘I’ve had it with me for so long it’s practically a family heirloom.’ The woman pursed her lips, ‘there must be something, I’ve fallen in love with it and simply must have it,’ she said, earnestly. ‘Well,’ Voche drew out the word, eyeing the woman up and down, ‘if you trade me for that necklace you’re wearing I suppose I could let it go.’ The woman’s hand raised to her necklace, a quiet calculation in her eyes. ‘Deal,’ she said after a moment, reaching behind her to unhook the precious metal chain, the pendant dangling as she passed it over for the heart charm.
‘Was what you said true?’ Elske asked, after the woman had left. Voche looked up at him surprised, ‘the stone really could be that old, I didn’t lie, just bent the truth a little. And the plague god is known to steal your breath, I don’t see why he couldn’t be tricked by giving the breath of something else.’ Elske paused at that, mulling the idea over, thinking of possible implications. Her logic was missing a few steps, but the idea of tricking a godly ability, of deceiving it while a god was actively employing it was one he hadn’t considered before. His religious upbringing treated them as omniscient, omnipotent beings. This would be circumventing the gods in yet another way. The idea appealed to him. With all the destruction he was seeing the gods party to he had found himself even more disdainful of them, if they were somehow separate from their abilities, rendered impotent, tricked, he would be pleased to be a contributor to it.
