NOVEL NEXT Chapter 4: Don't Forget to Register Rituals
Taking a deep breath, Sammy knew she needed to respond to the girl immediately, but she wasn’t exactly used to speaking as someone who was majestically projecting from a throne to a potential subject. She’d taken and enjoyed drama class in high school, but…
I’m a goddess, damn it — I can do this.
The thought unexpectedly triggered something, a connection she understood immediately to be tied to that concept: Goddess 1. A class. She drew upon it to speak with a certain authority, power, and clarity, channeled from the intent within her, though the words remained hers.
“I am so much more than that, girl.” Short and mysterious, and the words had an ominous, dramatic echo.
The servant girl’s eyes widened and she took a step back, her breath caught. But she didn’t flee. Swallowing what must’ve been a dry throat, she asked, “Y-you’re not hostile? Did you do something to Mr. Taemon?”
“I merely revealed my presence to him, and he did not handle it well. I mean him no harm, nor you, servant girl. In fact, the opposite. What is your name?”
Her eyes shifted briefly as if she might withhold it, but a moment later she said, “Estara, My Lady.” She curtsied toward the mirror, though the oddity of it made it awkward. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
My lady? Perfect! This is going well. Oh shit, I have to drop my name now… ‘Sammy’ doesn’t exactly sound like a goddess. Or maybe they did have nicknames. Hercules and ‘Herc?’ But that’s a demigod, right? Gah!
“Likewise, Estara. I am Samantha, Goddess of Mirrors.”
Status updated: Deity name Sammy changed to Samantha.
Estara’s eyes widened again, and a hand went to cover her mouth as she whispered ‘goddess.’ “But how can that be? The gods abandoned the world long ago! Or at least the civilized lands. The sages say anything of the spirit that has come since then are horrible monsters and parasites!”
Sammy barely kept herself from saying, ‘Well, fuck them!’ She considered for a moment how she might best answer such a challenge. It had not been intended as an insult, in any case.
Pulling the portal finally into full and complete clarity so it was two-way, but slowly and dramatically, Sammy drew herself up for a regal pose and let her ‘class’ shine as much as possible as she declared, “Do you truly think the sages know all there is? You tell me, Estara. Do I look like a parasite to you?”
Estara stared in awe rather than fear and slowly walked toward the mirror as if she were enchanted. “No,” she said heavily in wonder. “You… you are surely a goddess in truth, My-... Your Majesty.” The last was breathless as she then seemed to come out of a daze and knelt, bowing her head.
1 FE gained due to user belief/acknowledgment. Note: not yet a Follower.
Yes! Score! I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised a servant is quick to acknowledge a higher status. Royalty, effectively the highest. Divinity.
“Estara, your boldness and quick acknowledgment impresses me. What if I told you I’d give you my ear? That whenever you spoke my name, I would answer you. Would you serve a goddess?”
Estara looked up into the portal and whispered, “Yes.” It was tinged with uncertainty, with ‘maybe this is bad,’ but also a passionate choice, like she still wanted to believe. It wasn’t cajoled or charmed forth. Sammy could feel it. Someone that reached out for a change…
Just then, someone from beyond yelled, “Estara! Where are you? Come here!”
Scrambling like a girl caught with her hand in the cookie jar, Estara half-jumped up — then stopped, eyes flashing to Sammy as there was some internal angst about who had priority suddenly.
Smiling, Sammy nodded to the girl. “You may go, Estara. Speak my name before any mirror and I will hear you. Soon, Estara. Our secret — for now.”
“Yes, Your Majesty!” the servant girl squeaked-exclaimed, curtsying one final time before gliding away.
Sammy soon pushed the portal/mirror away, then sighed and tossed her head back. “Sys! I can already tell she’s not yet a damn follower. Why?”
You did not perform a [Ritual of Conversion]. This connects a believing Follower to a Deity. It is the first true form of prayer. The user has only agreed in principle.
“Yeah, well, we didn’t have time for that anyway. So what exactly do I do?”
The only default rules are that you reach out with the offer to be a Follower via your psyche, briefly touching it to theirs. It is available if they are receptive and there is a point of contact.
They will understand what they are agreeing to intuitively and can reject it at that last moment. It is effectively a contract but hypothetically can be canceled at any time. However, the title of [Ex-Follower] will remain with them forever.
You may create a religious experience or add additional requirements to the ritual.
“Wow. So, she could still get cold feet and run out on me at the-... I’m not gonna say altar, I’m not gonna say altar, I’m so weird, oh my god…”
As Sammy thought about the Ritual of Conversion, she realized there was indeed a kind of simple ‘registration form’ to it, so she… filled it out.
Ritual of Conversion Form
(Note: Do not add superfluous text to this form.)
Requirements: Touch a hand to the mirror and say, “I swear my allegiance and pledge my faithful service to the Goddess Samantha, may she reign forever.” (Does that work ok?)
Religious Experience: I dunno, a high? I want people to feel happy, after. Peaceful. Is that doable?
Authorized Officials: N/A
She submitted it, then asked, “I can edit it later, right?”
Yes.
Ritual of Conversion Form received and revised to remove superfluous text.
Ritual of Conversion Form
(Note: Do not add superfluous text to this form.)
Requirements: Touch a hand to the mirror and say, “I swear my allegiance and pledge my faithful service to the Goddess Samantha, may she reign forever.”
Religious Experience: A high. Follower feels happy and peaceful.
Authorized Officials: N/A
“Well, excuse me. I’m just winging this whole thing, you know.”
She sat and considered what information she did have to go on. At least one country, land — whatever — was apparently godless, and from the sound of it, not friendly to the idea. She could easily be labeled in a negative light at some point. Her first encounter was someone quick to call her a demon ready to eat her, after all.
The best bet was to gather more information about the land from Estara and go from there. Probably without randomly revealing herself to the wrong person. Fortunately, she was pretty sure she could spy through mirrors at will without revealing herself.
Probably about time that I read my powers.
Mirror Sense (at will): All open mirror faces in the material world are a part of you, your sense of them increasing with their clarity and your deliberate focus. You can see and hear through each mirror. Subjects can be focused on to narrow a search. An enshrouded or hidden mirror can only be very vaguely sensed and provides no input. Level determines versatility and sensitivity.
Level 1: See/hear through mirrors of the highest level of reflection quality and manufactured design. Passive awareness is minimal, requiring high engagement or activity. Familiarity (with a mirror or subject) increases sensitivity.
Interesting. She absorbed the information and drew up the other power.
Mirror Communication (at will): You can send sound (such as speech) or visual imagery (such as your own form) through mirrors of the material world, replacing their normal reflection as desired. Full portal interface provides a real-time, two-way transfer. This ability does not vary with level.
“Whoa! Sys, does this mean I can do illusions and stuff in the mirrors? Make someone’s reflection wink at them or something?”
Correct, User Sammy. Imagery and sound is as desired and manufactured from your imagination.
Having the notion in her head, she understood ‘where’ in the interface to conduct such things immediately.
Just before drawing the portal completely to two-way was a more nebulous zone. It had been at a kind of outer periphery when she was observing Estara, where the girl must’ve seen or felt some hint of weirdness. And that zone had a little more depth before forming the two-way, where illusions were probably possible.
Sammy knew it would be a little bit before her Follower-to-be would be free from her duties. Starting from her sense of the mirror she’d just used, she sought out other mirrors nearby and found them in several other bedrooms. A hallway. Bathroom.
Looking through them, there were only a couple of sight angles of activity, in what appeared to be a kind of manor or mansion. She saw an indiscernible figure walking at the end of a hallway before disappearing.
She found a smaller mirror in the kitchen, where a mustached butler was talking with a stout sort of woman in white who must be a cook. Sammy brought the portal close enough to eavesdrop.
“So I hear, the old man — he’s going to be alright, then?” the cook asked.
“He seems fine. He was muttering about Margaret again, says she spoke to him, even. He’s resting in Talsen’s bed.”
“Ah, good, good. Spoke to him? Rarer claim, ain’t it? He’s going to think that new hat is special magic, now.”
The butler had a mild chuckle as he was stirring something in a large glass, which he soon left the kitchen with. Sammy dismissed the viewpoint.
Not Margaret, old man. Poor guy. At least he has a cool hat. And at least that’s one relative failure of a communication with the world that will probably go under the radar.
The mansion was perhaps tapped out of useful information until later. But it was a good test of her spying skills. It was time to look around for more opportunities within her domain of reflection. She had enough control to avoid bumbling about, so she could target people and subjects of interest with some measure of strategy.
Sifting through, something caught her attention: the loud chime of a glass. She zeroed in on it and saw that her mirror was in some sort of dining hall, looking down on a table dinner in progress, a bunch of well-to-do’s gathered around and one large man at the head was dinging a glass with a spoon, obviously calling for a toast.
“Friends and family, a toast! Tonight we celebrate the alliance of Houses Kenstrom and Burnstire, may the Seven Sages smile on it for all time, and may the strength of our ships and our swords protect the shores from all barbarians, demons, pirates, and monsters, as prescribed!”
There was cheerful response around the table, but the very last and somehow most relevant from a man in yellow robes, little glasses, and a fancy, tall hat, also sporting a long, narrow white beard. His toast was sedate and serene, but all took notice of his aura of gravitas.
Well. Isn’t that something?