Elysium's Multiverse

Chapter 296

Chapter 296

Riven stood next to the miniature purple sun, coated in the occasional burst of darkness. Gazing into the swirling mass of Sin, the mana in his body called out to it. Equally so, Riven’s mana also called out to the one created from Blood not far off… but Gluttony had other ideas about how to utilize this particular part of the descent.

“It must be this one. Creating a secondary class with a secondary body to top it off is nothing short of difficult.” Gluttony said inside Riven’s soul, his third eye in the center of his forehead blazing with similar Sin energy that resonated with the sun ahead. “Trust me.”

Riven let on a soft smile, his hands in his pockets, and a feeling of peace having settled over him ever since walking over. It was odd, as all the others had said this Sin energy caused their bodies to react in all sorts of ways. From violent tendencies to lustful urges, from wanting to lie and cheat - to wanting to simply take advantage of someone else at their expense. That is what most of the other people he’d briefly talked to in this room felt when gazing upon this sun or even reaching out to touch it. Even his own demons felt this way.

And yet… Riven felt at home.

He felt happy, and whole.

“I do trust you, Gluttony.” Riven said in a calm whisper, ignoring all the others in the room who were staring at him from a distance. “You don’t think I know you’ve been controlling your urges to devour everything in sight since bonding to me? I’ve known this entire time. I can feel your mind… and I know what a struggle it is to keep yourself at bay. You’ve had my trust for quite a while, and though I know you are using me as a ticket to another life in a way - know that I consider you a friend.”

He’d pacified some onlookers and their curiosities, those who were brave enough to approach after his little joke with Kara earlier. Many of them had been demons down here who wanted his blessing, or simply wanted to drop by to say what an honor it was to see him in person. He always felt odd when he was approached like this, now and in the past, but he’d reciprocated to a small extent - despite not thinking himself all that special. Thankfully though, he’d mostly be left alone out of respect or fear.

Which made him ask the question: did they see Gluttony? Or did they see him? Gluttony was certainly special, but was he?

Or perhaps the better question was what made his true self special, rather than the external factors everyone else saw? Recently he found himself valuing how a person thought rather than what a person could do, and he was mostly directing that inwardly at himself. He had powerful backers and a promising future, but Riven didn’t want to be a mirror of Gluttony. He wanted people to see himself for who he was, and not what he was. All of this was philosophical, but the thought did trouble him from time to time. The same could also be said about his status as a prince. Did people really give a shit about Riven? Or did they only care about the Reincarnation of Gluttony? About the prince of the Blood Moon Requiem, rather than the kid who’d grown up on Earth without parents most of his life to raise a kid sister on his own?

He mentally recoiled at the thought, still not having let Allie know about his conversation with their mother’s projection. He still hadn’t put into words how he truly felt about it after all this time. The kicker was that the longer he waited - the more angry Allie would be with him when he finally told her.

Yet he still couldn’t bring himself to do it. Not yet. Maybe after the Abyssal Descent was nearly done, then he’d talk to her about it. Maybe. But he honestly wasn’t even sure if he trusted his mother anymore after abandoning them as children. It’d been genuine heartbreak back then, losing his mom, and he didn’t want to put himself or Allie through that pain again. In fact, the more he thought about it, why should he try to get back into his mother’s good graces again?

The thought both disturbed him and resonated with him. He was torn, without a clear path forward.

“It would be wise to seek her out.” Gluttony said, reading Riven’s thoughts. “Even if you don’t remain in contact afterwards, closure is good for the soul.”

Riven raised one eyebrow. “Is that sage advice really coming from one of the original sins? For a sin, you’re really don’t doing a very good job of being evil.”

“Evil is a matter of perspective. I have done many evil things, but so have my sworn enemies. The commandments, the angels, who are praised by the beings of the holy pillar as pinnacles of how to live one’s life - are in my eyes, evil. But I am also wise enough to realize that people and creatures of most races are able to change. Change means that, at any one given time, you may be more evil than you were twenty minutes ago based on your thoughts and actions. Or you may be better, good, moreso than you were last week. To whom you interact with and what your output into existence is - these things determine who views you as good or bad, and thus I have always laughed at the ideology that I am a creature of evil.”

“Is that so?”

“It is. I know we have talked about this to some length before, but it really is a topic of which I have debated or conversed with many over the eons. It fascinates me. I was born in the image and as the incarnation of a primal sin, and yet I do not feel like it is an absolute law even for me. And even if the sin that I embody does overpower my greater judgement at times, it doesn’t mean that I am bad. I am merely gluttonous, and that in itself serves a purpose. If I go randomly eat a thousand humans back on Panu, would you call that an evil act?”

“Well that depends.”

“Exactly. It depends on who I ate, and to what end it plays out. If I eat a thousand people that would be better off dead, and would make the world more hospitable for the children we father in the future, that would be a good thing. It would make us good. Especially from the perspective of such a child. But if I were to kill and eat a thousand people that made the world a worse place for the children we foster, then that would be bad. Even then, you have to consider whether or not those children themselves would be bad or good, and to whom they would be bad or good to. The same could be said for giving in to Wrath. Do you know how fallen angels first came to be?”

“I do not. Tell me.”

“The first fallen angels came to be by embracing Wrath’s influence. They became so angry, so furious at what had been done to their loved ones, that they lost their celestial flame. It was replaced by sin instead. But what they did with that power, that sin, was good in their eyes - when they killed the other angels responsible for purging their children by the hundreds of thousands for not being devout enough to the faiths.”

“To the commandments?”

“Yes. What they did, I consider good. Because they in turn helped prevent that very thing they went through from happening every again to any other innocent. It is certainly true that Sin is prone to violence and selfishness, but those are not inherently evil. Violence and selfishness are merely tools. Sin is merely a tool. A means to an end, nothing more and nothing less.”

Riven slowly nodded. He honestly agreed. Remembering back when Athela had died, he’d sacrificed an entire city of innocent people by killing the populace to bring her back. He did it then, and he’d do it now. He held no regret. Zero. Did he feel somewhat bad for needing to do it? Sure, if he could have brought her back without killing those people then he would have, but it still needed to be done at the end of the day. Sin had been a means to an end, but he didn’t feel evil while doing it. He’d certainly been deemed evil by those families he’d butchered by the hundreds of thousands, and it’d been very selfish - but having Athela back had made it all worthwhile. Sin had been a means to an end, nothing more. He hadn’t wanted to kill those people, but they were a means to an end. One that he needed to make due with, in order to bring back the woman he loved.

Even if she was an uppity wannabe spider princess and a drama queen.

He chuckled at the thought, only now just realizing that the sun of Sin energy was completely embracing him with swaths of dark purple flames with scattered patches of black. His soul lattice was rapidly forming too, connecting pathways between his pillars and reinforcing certain areas at a rapid rate.

Slowly closing his eyes and sitting into a lotus position on the floor, Riven began to meditate. Gluttony had doubtless planted this seed on purpose to give him a boost of inspiration, and Riven would be a fool not to take advantage of it. It was time to acquire some insights, and if all went well - to help Gluttony create his second class.

And his second body.

Or at the very least, to start these things for when he finally finished them by the end of the descent.

***

Zafima inwardly cursed, furious at the turn of events with clenched fists and gritted teeth. Her heart beat in her chest like a drum, and sweat was starting to accumulate under her armpits and along her forehead. Her lavender eyes glared daggers at the bitch who’d ruined everything for her since arriving on this floor. Kara was over there without a care in the world, laughing beside the demonic servants who were contracted personally to no one less than the Reincarnation of Gluttony himself.

Not to mention that tattooed pretty boy was also a prince of one of the greatest vampiric factions in the multiverse. It was fucking infuriating, and she was very well aware that she’d painted a big red target on both herself, and her empire, after using its name to threaten the man directly.

She paced back and forth, her tight golden dress flowing behind her while she bit her nails and continued to give occasional death-glares promising pain to the other drow woman forty yards off. The vampire that Zafima had hired to seduce Kara with his very particular skill set had already fled, fearing for his life after Riven’s display and leaving the rest of Kara’s possessions with her after a very quick apology. He hadn’t even waited to see Kara’s reaction, but had merely exited the descent right then and there before Riven could get back from his enlightenment - forgoing all potential gains he’d have gotten on this floor or the others due to supreme cowardice.

The last thing that man had said before leaving, was that he was going into hiding - and that she’d cursed him and his coven by putting him in this situation. He’d been rather spiteful before heading out, but he’d participated in this knowing full well what he was getting into. How was it Zafima’s fault that this one in a trillion chance had actually happened?

“The emperor must be warned, if he already hasn’t been by those who left.” Numin, the drow warrior cut in - stopping her pacing with a forceful hand gripping her shoulder. He spun her around with a glare. “I know you don’t want to do so, but we don’t have a choice. This could have repercussions beyond just us. What Prince Rantali said is true, The Blood Moon Requiem is not known for its kindness. Even small slights against their houses have led to the complete annihilation of planets and the genocide of races. That isn’t even counting the fact that we now have at least twenty different demonic teams in this very room giving us stares promising death after they realized that we’d somehow offended their god-figure’s reincarnation. If you could even call it a god, because to them - the original sins are more than that. What if one of THEIR clans decides to rise up out of hell to wipe out our empire just to make a point, trying to gain favor with the Great Maw?”

“It wouldn’t be unheard of.” Zafima said nervously, her pace picking back up as she began to pace again - long white hair decorated with ornaments swishing back and forth every time she turned. “This is not good. Not good at all. If it weren’t for that ragged bitch I’d have-”

“This is YOUR fault!” Numin hissed, jamming a finger directly into her sternum to stop her once more. “Look at me, Zafima! I said look at me!!!”

Numin lifted his hand and nearly backhanded the woman, but refrained from doing so only an inch away from her face due to the realization that he’d likely be expelled from the Abyssal Descent if he did so on this floor.

Nevertheless, she flinched back and stumbled - tripping over her own feet to hit the ground behind her.

“Gah!” Numin seethed, whirling around to have his back to her and folding his arms while taking in slow, steady breaths. “What irks me is that I am in this just as much as you! Elysium has truly cursed us this day! To think that it’d be my poor luck to fall in with the likes of scum like you for a paycheck, only to have THIS happen!”

He turned his head to look over his shoulder at the trembling woman on the ground. “FIX this, you dumb whore! Or I will make sure that I present your head to him one way or the other, be in here in the descent - or later!”

Zafima rapidly blinked in surprise, despair, and fear. “You wouldn’t dare!”

“WOULDN’T I!?” Numin screamed, only to calm and lower himself to his knees so they were at eye level. “Look around. Do you see anyone else that has remained behind?”

Zafima did just that.

No one.

They’d all left. Not even those she’d considered close.

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Every single one of her other team members, and all the other drow teams that’d come from her empire, had either moved on to the next level without her, distanced themselves to other parts of the room, or had immediately left the descent altogether just like that vampire coward she’d hired had done. They were all terrified.

And rightfully so.

“Listen to me!” Numin snarled, grabbing Zafima’s dress at the hem just below her neck and jerking her forward to be within an inch of his face. “And listen to me well! I will NOT be taking the fall for your stupidity, do you hear me!? Even as we speak, those that have left the descent are on their way right now to the heads of their families. From there, word will rapidly travel to the council and to the emperor himself. WHEN he finds out what happened her, NOT if, we will be arrested and tried. At best, we will get life sentences in a dungeon. At worst, we will be thoroughly tortured before our corpses are offered to either the Church of Gluttony at one of their enclaves, or to the Blood Moon Requiem somehow. Do you understand?”

Zafima’s lip began to quiver, and she nodded shakily.

“Oh, don’t give me that pathetic look. You have no right to cry after what you put that poor girl through. If it weren’t for the absurd amount of money your slut mother was going to pay my family, I would have spit in your face for asking this of me.” He shoved her back to the ground, but not hard enough for it to be considered an attack. His breath shuddered, and he had to put his hands up on his face to try and get a grip.

For a long, long time, the two of them stood and sat hopelessly while staring at the ground or each other.

Eventually, it was Numin who spoke again. “We must fix this before going back. Otherwise, we might as well never go back at all.”

***

An explosion of energy roared inside his chest, and his body tingled with the sensation of newfound pathways etching themselves into his limbs. His pillars were lengthening, expanding, and making room for new future skills - while the potency of them was amplified as resonance formed between the different affinities.

Riven let out a gasp, his eyes opening to let out flames with a myriad of colors representing different aspects of the Unholy branches. Most prominent of that was Sin, but all of Riven’s pillars were interacting with the lattice and he wasn’t complete yet either. He’d been going at it for days now, in silent meditation, with only partial success.

Or at least he thought it’d been days. Had it been a week? Two weeks?

He looked about, seeing that Narg was present alongside Azmoth at the Infernal sun across the room. Athela and Genua were similarly seated at the Blood sun. Fay had her grimoire open, her eyes scrolling over the text it was writing on its pages while the Depraved sun loomed over her too.

He couldn’t make anyone else out, but the room had become quite crowded in his time while meditating. The number of teams here had tripled, if not quadrupled, and the amount of undead in particular had sharply risen. There were even a few orc teams present, wearing little armor but heavily adorned with war paint and huge weapons. Perhaps it’d been some grouped factions of some sort that’d come down all together?

Taking time to search, he eventually saw Allie sitting amidst the crowds surrounding the Death sun and put his worries to rest. He had no doubt the others were also doing their own thing, and didn’t bother looking for anyone else as he got up to take a break. He was hungry, starving even, and that spiced blood that Prince Rantali had gifted him was calling his name.

Standing up and making for his group’s camp on the outskirts of the enormous room, he found two people he’d not expected to see ever again. There, right on the edge of where Riven had left all his belongings under Elysium’s personal protection, was the young woman Zafima and her other dark elf counterpart Numin.

The man was rather tall, even while seated, and looked rather sick. His white hair was a mess, his shoulders slumped over in a hunched position, and he was fidgeting with the laces of one of his leather boots.

Zafima for her part looked like she’d been crying a lot. Her eyes were puffy and red, and her previously threatening demeanor had changed to that of a beaten dog. Her tight golden dress was disheveled, and she’d kicked her shoes off to sprawl out in a tangled mess on the ground. On second thought, she looked more like roadkill rather than a living animal, due to how absolutely miserable her expression was.

They looked utterly pathetic.

“What the fuck are you two doing here?” Riven asked, walking over and summoning Jackal’s canine form from his staff to keep him company. “I thought you two would be gone by now. Do you intend to wait until I leave, then go behind me to complete more of the descent? Not saying that’s a great idea, but it’s probably a better one than leaving before me.”

Zafima immediately scrambled to her knees and kowtowed, slamming her forehead into the stone floor with a force that let Riven feel the vibrations. “This one begs your forgiveness!”

Numin quickly followed suit, violently kowtowing next to the woman with another slam of the forehead. “We wish to make amends! Please allow us to discuss terms with you!”

Riven scratched Jackal behind the ears and took a seat a bit further away from them and next to his belongings. Pulling out one of the flasks Prince Rantali had given him, Riven popped the top off and took a long swig. “I don’t want or need to discuss anything with either of you. As far as I’m concerned, you can both skip of into the sunset and fuck right off. Given that you never harass Kara again, I won’t get pissy.”

“Please, young lord!” Numin begged, looking up from his kneeling position. “Allow us to speak! It is not so simple as just going back home anymore!”

Seeing a fully grown dark elf warrior grovel like this was just downright sad.

“How is it not simple? I think this is very simple. I told you, just leave. I realize you don’t want to miss out on the opportunities here, but that was your decision to make.” Riven dismissively waved them away. “Or you can just ignore me and see what happens.”

Zafima took in a sharp breath, looking panicked with her head still against the ground. “No, no please - we cannot do either of those things! Your excellency, we are honor bound to make amends-”

“Then make amends with Kara.” Riven’s face scrunched up in irritation. “I don’t see why you’re coming to me.”

The two drow exchanged glances.

“Would you forgive us if we were to do so?” Zafima asked without hesitation, giving a fearful look to her left where another group of demons were glaring her way. “If we were to-”

“Young master.” A large, horned man with red skin cut in - walking across the room in a flash of green light. His race was called Tiefling, one of the humanoid variants of demon kind, and he bowed low with his long black hair trailing down over a thin layer of what appeared to be some kind of scale-made gray armor half-covered by a long cloak. “Forgive my intrusion, but would you like me to permanently remove these two from your presence? I would gladly accept Elysium’s judgement myself after killing these blasphemers, if it would give the reincarnation peace of mind. It would bring my house great honor. Just say the word.”

Riven had no idea who this guy was, but he looked dead serious. He, and the other tieflings he’d just left, all had hard stares full of fervor - the religious kind, and they were glaring at the two dark elves prostrated on the ground with seething hate.

Honestly, Riven was a little stunned. He didn’t know what to say at first, but he eventually shook his head. “I appreciate the gesture, but no. What is your name?”

“This lowly servant is called Leksai Foruminus of the burning legions, your lordship. It is an honor to meet the Great Maw’s vessel in person.” The tiefling replied with a low bow at the waist.

Riven nodded, still seated in a cross legged position with Jackal laying down next to him. He thought he’d heard of the Burning Legions before, but maybe not. If he WAS remembering correctly, they were a faction stationed deep in the heart of hell. However he was too embarrassed to ask, as he should probably know these things given who he was. “Leksai. The gesture is appreciated, but I can handle my own problems. Thank you very much for the offer, and it will be remembered.”

The tiefling Leksai beamed at his words, silently nodded, and turned heel to walk back towards his companions - who began questioning him and looking rather excited themselves. Why? Had he done something to get them riled up?

Perhaps it was because Riven had said ‘it will be remembered’. Maybe they took that as an implication? That they’d earned his good will somehow? Thinking about it, perhaps they had earned his respect to some extent. But it wasn’t like he’d be visiting the Burning Legion any time soon. Riven should be careful as to how or what he said from now on. His words carried a lot of weight here in the abyss, and offhandedly saying stuff like that probably wasn’t a good idea.

Then it hit him.

The reason why the drow were so concerned.

Riven checked around the room, realizing that the group Zafima and Numin had come from was now absent. Their countrymen had left these two behind. The vampire she’d hired, the unknown man who’d seduced and stolen from Kara with what he could only assume to be powers derived from the Depraved sub-pillar after context clues were put together, was also absent. Kara didn’t talk about it too much, but it wasn’t hard to put together what’d happened when Zafima had first confronted Kara on this floor.

It was all so childish and petty, it made Riven want to puke.

Even after the tiefling had left, the two drow had remained prostrated on the ground - silent, scared, and unmoving.

Riven considered them again, trying to rein in his disgust, and pinched the bridge of his nose while scrunching his eyes shut. “Just to confirm things… You’re still here, bothering me, irritating me, because you’re worried that I’ll - what? Have the legions of hell come out to strike your people down? Is that it? You’re afraid of what political implications you’ve brought on to your oh so powerful empire you were talking about earlier? Sit up so I can look at you properly.”

Zafima visibly flinched, but did as she was told - smoothing out her golden dress but keeping her eyes on the floor.

Numin did the same, far more stoic.

“So? Is that it?” Riven pressed, wanting to be rid of these idiots. One thing he truly hated was bullies. He was no saint, nor did he know Kara that well, but he didn’t actively go out of his way to terrorize and antagonize people for the fun of it. Which is what Zafima had done to the point of excessive cruelty.

Numin cleared his throat. “Yes. That is why we cannot just leave. If we go back without proof of having fixed this situation, there is no doubt we’ll be beheaded by our own kin and sent as tribute to your church.”

Riven grimly smiled. “Sounds reasonable.”

“That is not fair!” Zafima hissed, only barely keeping the menace out of her words. Her fingers clenched and she immediately looked away out of fear, but it was apparent that she was still furious underneath. “How were we supposed to know that… that undeserving woman - would befriend you? That I was threatening the reincarnation of an original sin!? That is not something I would have ever done had I known!”

Numin glared daggers at the young woman with a snort of derision. “As I said earlier, whore, you should have never used our empire’s name when walking amongst the greatest unholy scions of the multiverse for this generation. It was sheer stupidity and vanity that brought us here, and you have cursed us all due to your foolishness.”

“And yet your greed was what enabled me to deprive Kara of a team in the first place!” Zafima shot back. “You accepted my money readily enough, traitor!”

The two drow started bickering after that, insulting one another and trying to make the other one to be the one at most fault here. It was like watching two children being scolded by their parents try to point out why it was the other sibling who’d done the most damage.

Riven just sat there with his chin resting on his hands, somewhat amused but also rapidly growing tired of this conversation, before he saw a familiar face coming towards them. Walking through the ever growing crowds of new teams filtering in, was Kara herself. The drow had her hood pulled up over her head, the bow he’d made for her clutched in her hands in front of her, and her leather boots clicked against the stone floor as she wove through the seated people in meditation.

She stopped abruptly when she saw Riven sitting with the others, but slowly proceeded forward again when he waved her over.

It was time for them all to have a little talk.

***

He’d rather have just let them die and be done with it. They deserved it, but Kara was a kinder person than he was. Apparently. This was her decision to make though, and she’d made it.

The public display of groveling and thanking Kara for her generosity, as well as praise to Gluttony, were somewhat sickening to Riven. Though he kept his mouth shut and watched the two drow leave the Abyssal Descent with his parchment anyways. On that parchment was a message written in his own blood, infused with Gluttony’s essence to show that it was indeed authentic. It was a statement explaining that forgiveness was given, that no retribution would be taken, and that any demonic forces attempting to gain favor by eradicating the D-grade faction for what they considered blasphemy would be in direct conflict with Riven’s wishes. It would be enough to make sure the two drow weren’t executed either, but this all hinged on Kara being treated well when she eventually returned to her homeworld.

Frankly Riven thought this was all overkill, but no one else seemed to think so. He still had a hard time wrapping his head around the idea of what and who he was, as he’d grown up nothing but an orphaned kid without a family in a world that gave less than a shit about him and his little sister.

He wondered what his old friend Jose would think about him now, if Jose was still around. He’d probably have made some joke at Riven’s expense and claim the tattoos and red eyes were tacky. He’d probably tease Riven about his choice to have two girlfriends that were technically bound to him with soul contracts, and would call Riven a lucky pervert. Jose would probably even go as far to say that choosing a warlock class over a warrior like class was a pansy move, given that Jose always chose the up close fighting classes in any videogames he ever played.

The thought made Riven smile.

“Thank you.” Kara said after a long pause, having watched the two drow who’d made her life a living hell over the past months leave. She looked at him with an expression that he could not place, and quickly diverted her eyes when he met her gaze. “You’ve done more for me, a stranger, than anyone else has ever done for me. I don’t know what to say other than express my gratitude, but I feel like that is not enough.”

“Do you still want to continue with us down through the rest of the descent?” Riven asked, curious. “Now that you don’t have any political pressure behind the scenes from Zafima, and the writ I gave them, I doubt your father would hold true to disowning you.”

“Of course I want to continue with your group, if you’ll still have me. But if my father did still disown me, would I be able to join your church?” Kara asked without hesitation.

Riven snorted a laugh, chuckling and sitting down to eat again with her in tow. “Sure. But if you were disowned then I’d simply take you on as a friend. The church is for worshipers. Gluttony may have need of those, but I do not.”

“Friend?” Kara asked, surprise lighting up her face with wide eyes.

Riven gave her a flat look, handing her a roasted apple covered in caramel from his dimensional sack. “We don’t know each other well, and you certainly seemed crazy at first. But my demons like you, and you don’t seem all that bad.”

Kara looked down at the apple, smiled warmly with a slight blush, and bit into it. She chewed a few times while thinking his words over, and then sprawled out with a groan to lay down. “You know, if someone had ever told me that I’d befriend Gluttony’s Reincarnation, who also just happens to be a prince of the Blood Moon Requiem, before getting here… I’d have called them crazy.”

“Titles are meaningless.” Riven said staunchly. “I’m Riven. That’s it.”

“You come from a place of privilege, being able to say that. Well, Riven, I truly don’t know how I’ll ever repay you for what you’ve done. Monetarily or not!”

“Yeah you’re definitely not worth three billion.”

He gave her a grin, and the two of them laughed.

“What are you two doing here?” A familiar feminine voice asked, and a second later - Athela dropped down to snuggle up against Riven’s side. “Aren’t you supposed to be meditating on the daos?”

“Right back at you.” Riven replied, pulling out another apple and tossing it Athela’s way.

The demoness caught it with catlike reflexes and brought it down to sniff. “I’m taking a break. I’ve had to restart my own path four times now.”

“Why?”

“I’m trying to create another Blood ability. Copying it, really.”

“You’re not building up your soul lattice instead? The suns only grant one major insight while here.”

Athela rolled her red eyes, yawned, and scooted over to sit in his lap with a plop. “I have a very particular ability in mind to make.”

“What’s that?”

“Body Fusion.” She replied, looking back over her shoulder and cheekily grinning before snapping a bite out of the apple.

Riven immediately gave her a skeptical raise of the eyebrow, but wrapped his hands around her waist and leaned into her shoulder for a tight embrace. “Isn’t that one of Genua’s abilities? She barely ever uses it. Why would you want it? And isn’t it a faith-based miracle? You don’t have much faith. Do you?”

Athela gave a noncommittal shrug, patting him lovingly on the cheek. “Yes it is one of her abilities, and yes it is faith based. But I’m not planning on using it for combat, so it doesn’t need to be all that stable. You’ll see, my adorable little padawan. You shall see.”

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