The not-immortal Blacksmith

20th of Arah, the second Month of Snow.

2291 years since the new gods came.

The banished gods

Maximilian, Mil to his friends, shot up from his lunch seat. "Did you guys feel that?"

Sarah looked up from her plate of food, swallowed, and gave him a half smile of annoyance, "That twist in the guts? That's just the feeling of a living god getting into detection range. You get used to it."

"The hells?" Mil asked.

"You know, when a god shows up in the living world, you can feel them when they approach. It's a normal thing. You learn to suppress it when you're trying to sneak up on demons." Sarah replied, taking another bite and swallowing. "Even these…fake bodies radiate some of the same magic. I heard it called "mana leakage" once."

Pendleton coughed, then spoke up, "But who would be showing up in their true form? Who would be that powerful?"

"That wasn't powerful, that was miner small god stuff." Sarah chewed another bite. "You really want to feel it, when the god of giants, halflings, and humans showed up for the end of the giant's war, that was powerful. If he hadn't been holding himself back, he could've cracked the continent."

"How do you know that?" Pendleton asked, cocking an eye.

Sarah took a quick breath, "…Um, I read it in the library?"

"Aside from all that, who would be stupid enough to walk around in their true form?" Mil asked. "I mean, they could, in theory, be killed!"

Sarah blinked, then thought for a moment, "Hmm… Well, there is one guy, but why the hells would he be here?"

Mil's jaw dropped open, "No! Not him!"

Pendleton glanced between the other two gods, "Who's that?"

Sarah snickered, "Well, he has a penchant for shooting people in the foot."

Mil slumped back to his seat, "Shit."

-

Sam, Molly, and Hesh walked slowly through the ancient graveyard, only taking a moment to crush the skull of any undead that had escaped the earlier battle. They took in the cracked and crumbling grave stones, the rotted doors on the mausoleums, and the ivy-covered trees.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

Eventually Hesh spoke, "This place looks rattier than the last one. Are we hitting the graveyards from newest to oldest?"

Molly cocked her head to one side, then the other, "That would make the most sense. Dumping us into a fight like this would have been a death sentence for us, even with all those powers we had."

Sam nodded, "I think you're both right." He poked the nearest gravestone with the tip of his sword, and was surprised when it didn't crumble. "You ever think about what would happen if we died here? Would we be "dead dead"? Or would we just reappear where we were when we left?" He poked the dirt with his sword. "Will we remember this place? Will we have anything to prove we were here?"

Their good mood shattered by Sam's morbidity, the three friends combed the rest of the graveyard in silence.

21st of Arah,

The Fey realm

Brandywine fluttered on the edge of her great grandmother's parlor. She watched the cousins' flit around the large table where Gran, Grannie, mom, and the "old" man in the ink and coffee-stained robe sat scrabbling for letters and words for points.

The four elders played, drank tea, and talked; meanwhile the littles scampered to and fro, running, dancing, and flitting. A small group of the older cousins were tuning "Guitars" and plugging them into magical devices named "loudeners". When the first cord of dissonant sound was struck, Gran pointed an old crooked finger at the door, and the attempted musicians fled to the out of doors.

Brandy sipped at her thimble of blackberry beverage, burped, and bolted before Grannie could pinpoint her with a deathly glare. Meanwhile, the "old" man played the word "Zimbabwe" while telling of Bear catching a trout with a newfangled lure called a "beetle-spin"; a lure of which he did not approve (and would be getting one for himself).

22nd of Arah,

Pendleton crawled from the shared tent, stretched, and poked the embers of last night's campfire. He meandered off to take care of business, and when he returned, the others were making themselves busy taking down the tent and attending to breakfast. As he assisted Sarah in taking down the tent, Pendleton relived his surprise at how well Mil could cook. Mil had told him it came from long travels on the campaign march, and wanting to eat something "good", so he had learned.

They took their time over bowls of honey sweetened oats until Pendleton asked a question. "What direction is the Heretic going to go?"

"He hasn't moved." Sarah replied after thinking for a moment. "I won't hazard a guess as to his destination, but I'm pretty sure he's making the rounds of all the architecture in whatever city he landed in."

Mil frowned, "Didn't you have a tryst with him a while back? Is that when he told you about his hobbies?"

"Ha! I wish!" Sarah said, a frown crossing her face. "He turned me down so many times, I gave up." Both Pendleton and Mil's eyes became wide as saucers as she continued, "That's why I slept with so many of his soldiers."

An hour or so later, the three began to meander in a random direction, trying to locate the three heroes they had unleashed.

24th of Arah,

"Hesh? How far to the next graveyard?" Molly asked as they followed the ancient road, a road that was only truly denoted by way of the broken pavers that could occasionally be seen.

Hesh looked at the map, then replied, "About three more days."

"Is there a faster route? Or just a different one?" Sam asked. "This road is giving me the creeps."

"Is it the moss hanging from the trees that seem to hold onto the morning fog?" Hesh asked. "Or the occasional root across the road that looks like it's moving on its own?"

"It's the statues just past the edge of the road that are overgrown, but always look like their gaze is following you." Molly said, in a flat tone. "The things are probably going to give me nightmares."