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"FAITH AND FURY"

A Heroes of Providence Eternal Short Story

BY JONATHAN REICHEL

Geno felt the bone-chilling roar of orcish rage just over the ridge. The sharp tips of this cursed black mountain range insulted the sky like onyx dagger points rising through a slain victim. 

He gazed down by his taloned feet into the mixed pools of blood on the battlefield. In the moonlight, he caught his own rippling reflection; his face, with features much like a snow owl. His heavy golden eyes belied the fifty years of burden his holy calling had brought. He exhaled fear through his beak, attempting to inhale faith. He could hear the savage death chants of the orcish front line, advancing swiftly. 

He opened his golden locket and gazed into a painted image of his arms wrapped around Amaris. “Still. I shall return to you, my love.” He whispered as he closed the golden locket, kissing it softly, and pressing it under his robes to his heart. He tightened his white feathered fist around his priestly staff and passionately whispered a prayer to El Shaddai for protection upon his people, hoping that reinforcements would arrive in time from the capitol. 

Geno’s devout Lux people had lost so many soldiers to this new breed of orc Darkanists hurling spells never before seen by mortals. In desperation, the holy High Feather Cavum had commanded his elite priestly caste to the front lines to combat this new spiritual threat, or be obliterated in this final battle in the Siege of the Spires. 

The twelve Lux priests of Geno’s squadron encircled him, dressed in blood-stained robes of white and gold. Their eyes were pits of shell-shocked emptiness. Their white-feathered arms and legs trembled in terror as they leaned upon their holy staves for support. They eyed their commander warily. 

Priest Timor’s voice quivered, “Father Geno… how are so few to face so many?” his body trembling. Geno’s eyes snapped open with a holy golden glow. 

He rested his feathered hand upon Timor’s shoulder, steadying him. “The faithful shall prevail.” 

Geno’s personal messenger, Fidelis, placed his hand upon Timor’s other shoulder, echoing encouragement. Geno scrawled an encoded message on sanctified paper only his personal messenger Fidelis could decipher. He rolled it, sealed it with a radiant blessing, and handed the parchment to Fidelis. “If there are to be any reinforcements in time, read them this, and guide them here.” 

Fidelis nodded, placed his right palm upon Geno's chest, blessing him with a prayer. “I shall return. Hold strong, Feather Geno. Our fate is in your hands.” Fidelis unfurled his wings, and took to the skies. 

Geno’s eyes shifted to his wavering brethren. “Our people, our culture, and our creed do not die tonight. In this darkness, we fly by faith, not by sight. Fear Not. El Shaddai is with us.” A burst of golden light emanated from his soul. His squadron ignited with a divine glow of inspiration. They grit their beaks with determination, inhaled deeply, and nodded with renewed hope. They spread their wide white wings, and launched into the darkness of battle above.

The stench of bodies and brimstone choked their senses as their wings crested the rock ridge. Ghoulish orc warmachines hurled green fireballs towards the vulnerable front line of Lux ground troops, calling retreat. The last ground stronghold of Featherfall village was being abandoned, defenseless. The remaining Lux families caught in the siege desperately tried to fly over the eastern wall of the village. The injured had to flee on foot, Geno knew they would not survive… alone. 

Then, from the black clouds above, he heard the shrieks. The small feathers on the back of Geno’s neck raised in a chill. The hidden squadron of snarling warbat riders descended like predators towards his priests. He called for a V-formation and his twelve locked in behind him. 

Then, Geno saw… him.

A black-robed figure, glowing with ominous red runes materialized through the dark clouds. The dreaded orc Warchief Yak'rah locked eyes with Geno, taunting him with snarling bloodlust. The orc’s ghastly eyes glowed a hideous crimson, illuminating his gray skin as he channeled a vile attack. 

Geno commanded his squadron to split, narrowly dodging the gust of red energy erupting from the Warchief’s twisted staff. The dozen warbat riders scattered into a random chaos, clawing at the priests’ wings.

“Shields!” Geno cried aloud. The priests encased themselves in glowing golden spheres, reducing the excruciating punishment from their enemies. 

Geno saw Timor’s holy lightshield flicker, thinner than it should have been. Fear had strangled his faith. Noticing the vulnerability, Warchief Yak'rah grinned in bloodlust, and channeled a wretched attack. The scalding impact of red darkness pierced a large hole straight through Timor’s chest. His corpse plummeted to the earth. 

Geno roared in agony seeing his brother in the faith slain. Geno’s skilled wings spun him through the black clouds, adeptly dodging beams of red darkness. He struck an orc off of a warbat with his staff, tumbling to his doom. Lighting crashed through the black clouds. Geno raised his white palm and spoke a holy word of rebuke channeling a piercing strike. Holy golden light paralyzed a warbat who tumbled to the earth, carrying his rider’s fate with him. 

Furious at the retaliation, Warchief Yak’rah crossed his arms over his chest. His eyes rolled back as he gutterally chanted a dark evil. A vile energy swelled within him. Geno’s eyes widened, as he prayed for protection. 

Yak’rah roared and flung his arms wide open. An explosion of darkanist energy blasted outward from his chest knocking all the riders off of their bats, and shattering the priest's holy shields. 

Geno’s mind went hazy. All the unconscious bodies of orcs and priests began tumbling toward the ground far below. Geno fought for consciousness as he felt wind whipping through his feathers. He was able to open his wings just moments before he crashed into the village rubble below.

Gathering his strength, he glanced left and right at the bodies of some of the priests who had not awoken in time, perished. Their blood pooling with the orcs’ that the warchief had just sacrificed for his victory. In the distant rubble of the village around him, Geno saw the face of a Lux child weeping, clinging to the bodies of his slain parents. 

Geno coughed up blood, as he tried to call out. “Child, come to me, I will protect you.” The child’s eyes widened looking left and right down the lane. He wiped tears from his eyes as he slowly stood, trembling. Geno beckoned him, and the child began hobbling out of the wreckage towards him. 

Just then, Geno felt the heavy crunch of rubble nearby. The dark presence of Warchief Yak’rah manifested through the shadows. Geno locked eyes with the warchief. The orc slowly shifted his gaze toward the child and tilted his head in a twisted menace. The orc raised his gnarled staff towards Geno, who wreathed his own in a holy white fire. Geno could feel his pulse thundering in his chest. The orc glanced towards the child. Black ichor oozed from the orc’s mouth, as a demonic smile crossed his face. A guttural laughter erupted from his dark soul, as the orc pointed his staff towards the child.

The orc’s eyes began to glow a vile red, charging the attack. Geno’s eyes widened in horror. The child shrieked in fear! An explosion of red darkness erupted from the orc’s staff toward the child. Geno roared a holy word, praying for a miracle. He stretched his feathered right hand as an explosion of holy white fire encircled the child. 

The dark attack struck the shield, red corruption crawling back up the line of white fire towards Geno’s arm. Absorbing the excruciating pain into himself he felt a darkness he had never known. Soul aflame, Geno extended his left arm, and redirected the overwhelming surge of dark fury, amplified by his own holy fire, towards his unsuspecting foe. The impact of the combined strike severed the orc's head from his body, as he collapsed into a twisted mass of smoke. Across the ridge, the red glow in the eyes of the orcish front lines seemed to fade into discord. 

Over the mountains, a legion of holy winged reinforcements, dressed in white, descended from the clouds. Eruptions of golden light showered down in a barrage of righteous fury, beginning to turn the tides of battle, cleansing the darkness. Geno fell to his knees, gripping his excruciating left hand to his chest. His shuddered breathing stabilized, regaining clarity. His awareness snapped his eyes back to the child, still in shock. 

He extended his right hand of blessing, welcoming him into his arms. The child collapsed into the warm embrace, weeping relief. Geno closed his eyes, breathing heavily, shedding tears upon the child's head. “You’re safe now, it's ok… it's ok. I’m here. I’ve got you.” The child raised his face to look up into Geno’s. The boy had golden eyes like him. Geno wiped a tear from the white feathers of the child’s face. “Tell me young one, what is your name?” 

“My, … my father … called me Sacris.”

The priest smiled, “And so shall I, young one.” Sacris smiled for the first time he could remember. 

“What am I to call you?” the child wondered. 

“I am called Father Geno… and I will take care of you.” The boy smiled and gestured to the wreckage of his home. Four younger brothers timidly emerged. Geno smiled. “Yes, I will take care of you all.” 

Messenger Fidelis landed softly near the children, and began administering aid to their wounds. “Father Geno, your message was received in time! The Lux Imperium now knows of the Scaled Legion’s vulnerabilities you discovered.” 

“Praise be to El Shaddai.” Geno exhaled in relief. He gazed far off to the orcish lines retreating back into the sharp black mountains of the Scaled Spires. Then… he winced. Squinting, he saw the subtle mirage of a red glow, larger than a mountain, emanating from the darkness. “Fidelis, do you see that crimson vision in the mountains?” 

The messenger glided up atop the pile of rubble next to Geno, squinting into the darkness. “Other than that filth retreating, no. You have earned your rest sir, I suggest you seek it.” Fidelis returned to organizing refugees' transport to the medical camps.

Geno nodded, exhausted. One last time, he gazed up into the darkness of the Scaled Spire mountains… and the red cloud… materialized. The terrifying face of a ghastly red dragon appeared, peering directly into Geno’s soul. 

A deep, ancient presence seemed to invade his mind. The dragon’s eyes focused upon him, as if discovering him… vulnerable. The dragon tilted his head curiously. The predator eyed his prey, and a deep rumble from the darkness only Geno could hear emanated a dark prophecy… “IIIII shall take EVERYTHING from youuuu… and youuuu shall CURSE. YOUR. GOD… IN THE END.”

Geno awoke from his meditations with a start. It had been nearly half a century since the dreaded Siege of the Spires had changed his life forever… yet his memories never faded.

Ari softly stepped through the doorway of Geno’s study, noticing the sweat of stress on his feathered brow. Geno’s blurred vision began to focus on the beautiful elven priestess reverently approaching. Her warm eyes sensed the pain of his memory. She slid her golden hair behind her long elven ears, listening intently to her mentor’s agitated breathing, beginning to steady. 

“Welcome Sister Ari, please come in.”

Ari sat on a prayer mat across from Geno, and placed his favorite Heiwa-leaf tea on the low table near him.

“Father Geno, what visions did you see?” Ari inquired with hesitant wonder.

Geno’s quivering hand steadied as he sipped the soothing Heiwa-leaf tea.

“A nightmare from long ago.”

“The battle never fades, does it?”

“Those who have survived war, never fully leave it behind.”

She absently touched the long scar on her neck, nodding. “I wish that were not so. Yet, you speak the truth.”

Geno smiled painfully, then breathed deeply, gazing into the gentle ripples of tea in his cup. He felt his thoughts gain great clarity, as if a new vision were being revealed to him. In a flash, the ripples of the tea appeared to him like the strong waves of the ocean. He saw the silhouette of a man lost in the dark water, washed up on a shore Geno recognized. He sensed the wounded man was barely clinging to life. 

Geno closed his eyes on the vision. He opened them toward his study window, inquiring up into the sky. The clouds parted slightly as a soft golden light illuminated the tea in his cup. Geno smiled, and nodded knowingly. He lifted his eyes to Ari.

“How fare the souls in our care today?”

“Father, the elder children of the orphanage are learning well to prepare meals. How many guests should I guide them to prepare for dinner tonight?”

Geno nodded, smiling, “I have a feeling a new soul may be among us soon. Please prepare at least one more place, Sister Ari.”

“As you wish, Father Geno. Every soul shall be nourished here.”

“I must depart to the shores for a short time, I sense a calling there.”

The entire doorway filled with the mighty presence of an intimidating Lux templar, glistening in holy armor. Sacris, now commander of the city’s guard, moved with a quiet intensity that even Ari’s elven ears did not detect. 

“Father Geno, I overheard your need. Do you wish a guard escort?” Sacris suggested with reverent firmness.

Geno smiled warmly at his most trusted protector. “Sacris, your vigilance is admirable, yet I believe this brief stroll on the shore should be my own. Please, protect Ari through the market, we shall be feeding more than usual this evening.” 

Sacris itched his feathered hand upon the hilt of his weapon, perturbed. “You…  wish your elite guard to … shop for groceries.” Sacris stated, deflated.

Ari bit her lip, holding back a smile.

“Oh, I trust your sharp eyes are as gifted in spotting a threat as you are spotting a deal.”  Geno grinned, amused. Ari giggled in ironic delight.

Sacris cleared his throat, nodded, and straightened. “I shall serve… as you wish, Father Geno.”

Geno winked at his exasperated guard, and smiled at Ari. “I shall return this evening, thank you both.”

Sacris pressed his feathered fist upon his chest armor in salute. Ari bowed to Geno, collecting his empty teacup. She smiled up at Sacris and rested her hand upon the back of his plate armor, guiding them both out of Geno’s study.

Geno smiled at their exit, his eyes resting upon his white traveling cloak and staff hanging against the door. He breathed deeply, equipped both, and left to obey his calling.

Geno unfurled his wide white wings and glided the distance to stand at the edge of the floating city of Sa’nubis. He gazed down at the sprawling port district a mile beneath the city. His eyes traced the fleets of ships arriving and departing, delivering goods and livelihood to his people. 

He dove off the edge of the city, his wings catching the breeze, the sunshine kissing his face. 

He soared west over miles of fertile green farmland. He smiled at large oafish reptiles tilling soil. The pack animals’ eight legs plodded along, lured by farmers holding sacks of glowing treats tied to a stick in front of them. Farm children gleefully riding the slow beasts giggled and waved at Geno as he returned the greeting warmly, soaring overhead.

His expression darkened as he neared the seashore he saw in his vision. He slowed his flight until his taloned feet dug into the sand. He furled his wide white wings behind him, and pressed his feathered hand to his forehead, squinting into the sun. He felt a darkness emanating from the shore ahead. He stepped with purpose towards the waves, the salty air wafting over his senses. 

He saw a large wave crash upon the sand. Out of it spilled the body of a pirate. The man appeared unconscious, covered in savage battle wounds licked by the salt of the ocean. Geno rushed to the man, who was barely breathing. Geno prayed swiftly to El Shaddai for a miracle. His hands glowed golden white, as he pressed his palms to the man’s chest to stabilize him. The human vomited salt water out of his lungs, pooling down his thick black beard. He absently tilted his head left and right in the sand. 

Geno cradled the pirate’s head in his arm, and slid the man’s long black hair out of his face. Geno beheld a fresh saber wound, cut through the man’s left eye, blinded. His right eye rolled back in excruciating pain. The man looked no older than 25, but his affect felt heavy with a burden beyond his years. The man, delirious in pain, mumbled imperceptibly, until Geno could decipher the words “...my father… is dead.” Geno sensed an unfathomable anguish emanating from the tortured soul of the man. 

Geno whispered kindly, “As is mine, young one. Yet I serve a new Father, El Shaddai, who cannot die.” The empty man’s deep blue eye focused upon the comforting peace emanating from Geno’s expression. The man wept with his whole heart. “Any father I have known… has not accepted me.” The priest held the lost man close to his heart. “I am Geno, and my Father, …will.”

The man’s breathing became sharp. “Help… me!” The chaos within his soul crashed against the excruciating pain of his injuries, sending him into shock. The man’s eye rolled back, as his pulse raced. Geno’s eyes widened, “Find your strength! I shall find you sanctuary…” Geno breathed deeply, gripped the man tightly, spread his wings, and launched up into the sky. 

Raw adrenaline accelerated Geno as he flew faster than the wind toward Sa’nubis. Miles of countryside sped by in a blur until he crested the clouds and beheld the radiant city in the sky. Muscles throbbing in pain from exertion, Geno landed on the roof balcony of the infirmary in the House of E’spris Orphanage.

He burst through the wide door to the shock of Sister Ari. “FATHER GENO! What happened?”

“Ari! Ready the operating table, this man’s life is in our hands!” 

“Yes, Father, right away!” Ari sprinted into the adjacent room and waved her right hand, emanating golden light. A collection of ornate medical instruments levitated from their resting places into crystalline containers holding a holy liquid near the table. She grabbed a long white fabric and flung it across the top of the operating table moments before Geno grunted and finally relieved his strained back, placing the man upon the table.

Commander Sacris swiftly rounded the doorway, eyes wide in shock, weapon ready. “Father Geno! Wha… You’ve brought a PIRATE into the orphanage!?”

Geno swiftly calibrated an ornate surgical device, imbuing it with a golden glow, “This man needs our help, and we are called to provide it.” 

Sacris pleaded, “Father Geno, the children are not safe with a…”

“Sacris, you are sworn to defend life, this life needs you now!”

Sacris judged the markings of Brigand’s Bay upon the pirate’s clothing in disgust. He glanced down at his own weapon, conflicted. The pirate’s head whipped back and forth, roaring in pain.  Geno’s voice softened. “Sacris, I ask you … to trust me.”

Sacris gripped his weapon more tightly, staring at the threat on the table. He then glanced up into Geno’s eyes, and his soul responded. He exhaled deeply. “I shall serve.”

Geno nodded thankfully. “Come, quickly, secure his chest, keep him on the table!” Sacris raced across the room dropping his heavy gauntlets to the floor. He pressed his mighty feathered palms into the pirate’s chest, steadying him.

“Ari, infuse living water through his diaphragm! I shall begin darkanist examination.”

Ari nodded and began a complex prayer. She lifted a crystalline container of clear liquid. She poured some upon the deep wound of the pirate’s chest. She shifted her hands and the liquid illuminated in a golden glow, bubbling through his wound, cauterizing with divine light. An ominous red smoke began to rise invisibly from his many wounds.

The man began to convulse, foaming out of his mouth.

Sacris growled. “His wounds are not purely physical.” 

“I fear you are right.” Geno placed both his hands on either side of the man’s temples, praying for a deeper vision. He squinted with great focus. Geno’s physical sight blurred, as he began to perceive spiritually, more deeply. Each of the man’s wounds seemed to be emanating an ominous invisible red smoke. Geno shook his head, furiously. “The blade that wounded this man was cursed with a profound darkness. Sacris, Ari, hold him with all your strength. This. Will. Hurt!”

The priestess and the templar pressed down with all their might upon the convulsing man. 

Geno spread his hands wide to the heavens through the window, praying for a miracle of El Shaddai. He held his right palm inches above the man’s forehead, as a rushing mighty wind filled the operating room. The man winced in pain as lines of invisible red smoke began to extract from his wounds into Geno’s hand. Geno grunted in pain, using his left hand to steady his right forearm. Visions of pain, and combat, and loss, and grief, and rejection and fear flooded Geno’s mind from the man’s wounds. Geno saw a vision of the man’s love, a beautiful Caelum Sha elf, yearning for him to return. The unconscious pirate reflexively clenched his fists. 

“Hold fast!” Geno grunted through his own pain.

“Holding!” Ari strained.

Geno’s mind felt lit on fire as the endless flow of darkness effused from the man’s wounds. The man’s fists gripped the table, and arched his back in pain. Ari saw the golden liquid upon the man’s chest begin to bubble black.

“We’re losing him!” She cried aloud.

“Hold!” Geno roared.

The wind in the room intensified to a hurricane as Geno’s right arm began to shrivel and darken. He roared in a pain matching the pirate’s, until he whipped his right arm towards a glistening golden orb, blasting all of the coalesced darkness into the holy container. 

The pirate collapsed back onto the table, gasping for breath, eye still closed. The two Lux and the elven priestess gazed at each other, exhaling deeply, faces drenched in sweat. The swirling wind in the room began to quiet. Ari collapsed against Sacris, who steaded her gently. 

Geno rested against the table, assessing the man’s vitals. He gazed up at Ari and Sacris, nodding thanks.

“How do we know we did not just save a monster?” Sacris warned.

“Have faith, Sacris.” Geno assured. The templar commander gazed down in disgust at the pirate, stabilizing before him. “What I see… conflicts with my faith.”

“Faith is the evidence of things unseen.” Geno advised. Ari smiled at Geno, agreeing.

“Ari, I bid you to join me in helping to care for our new friend.” 

“As you wish.” Ari’s breathing steadied. “It shall be done.”

“Sacris, as you feel compelled… protect Ari. We shall provide him lodging in the secure room, until we have properly assessed his… status.” Geno declared.

Sacris blinked rapidly, ultimately yielding to his mentor’s wisdom. “As you wish, Father Geno.”

“Thank you both. I am in need of rest after my… exertions. Please tend to him until I awake at first light.” The two nodded and blessed their mentor goodnight. 

Geno stumbled to his private study, and collapsed.

The next morning, Geno rose with the rays of the sun. He read holy scripture and meditated upon his recent visions and nightmares. He asked El Shaddai for wisdom. He breathed deeply, gripped his white wooden staff, and slowly walked down the stone halls of the orphanage backrooms. 

He smiled, hearing the laughter of children learning in one of the classrooms, and others feasting joyfully in the dining hall. He approached the secure bedroom, and saw Sacris still standing guard outside. “Did you not sleep, my boy?” Geno mused.

“I will rest when I’m dead. There are more important things to me than sleep, dear Father.” Sacris almost smiled.

Geno grinned and pressed his palm upon Sacris’ chest armor, blessing him. “Ari?”

“She found her rest after she was sure the pirate would… survive.”

“You have both done a righteous deed.”

“We shall see.” Sacris mused.

Geno smiled, “I shall tend to him this shift. That will be all for now, thank you Sacris.”

“I shall be close, Father.”

“I am blessed that you always are.” Geno rested his feathered hand upon Sacris’ pauldron, until the towering Lux commander strode down the hall. Geno unlocked the wooden door with the wave of his hand, golden light caressing the arcane lock. He entered the peacefully furnished recovery room.

He saw the pirate, now wrapped in holy bandages, asleep, twitching in a nightmare. He awoke when he heard the soft creek of the door opening. The pirate gently touched the fabric covering his blinded eye.

Geno leaned his staff up against the wall, and closed the door softly. The pirate found his voice. “I have you to thank for saving my life, priest.” 

“And, I have El Shaddai to thank for making me aware of your need.” Geno smiled warmly. 

“Yesterday, a lifetime ago… you said your name was Geno… are you… the Geno?” The pirate wondered.

“I have been called worse.” Geno’s eyes twinkled. “What am I to call you, young man?”

“My father called me… Tumult. It was not a compliment when he gave it.”

“Yet, I can see you have persevered through much. Tumult, I shall use your name as a complement when I say it.”

Tumult smiled through his affliction for the first time he could remember. His fleeting moment of peace was interrupted by a sharp pain. He clutched his head in agony. Geno sensed the spiritual ailment flaring up again. Geno moved to steady Tumult. Praying for his mind. 

“The nature of your injuries are not merely physical. The blade that struck you was cursed with a profound darkness. It has affected your mind. Your wounds go deeper than bandages alone can heal.”

Tumult breathed sharply in a sudden panic “I must return to her! I must…” he tried to move, but most of his muscles would not obey. “Useless! I’m useless! I can’t even protect the ones I love!” From his bandaged eye, a drop of blood slid down his cheek. ‘What am I to do?” His legs and left arm laid limp in bed as his right arm quivered with each subtle movement. He growled in frustration.

Geno tried to steady him, offering comfort. “In my many years, I have learned it is wise to not ignore the darkness of our past, but to replace it with light.”

Tumult lamented. “My mind has become the tomb of my failures. Soreth, my love, languishes even now! She is trapped in a cave, awaiting a return I am now too weak to provide! I can think of no light to replace that!”

Geno slowly considered. “I have found that genuine love is a powerful motivator… and healer.”

Tumult noticed the marital bracelet upon Geno’s right wrist, the wedding ring of Lux culture. “I see you have found your love. Please, tell me of her. How did you meet? What led you here?”

Geno smiled warmly. “I can provide you better than that… do you wish a vision?”

“How?” Tumult queried.

“I can invite you into my mind, far more clearly than my words can express. You shall experience what I did, and what I have learned since then. The visions may bring you peace, and begin to replace your nightmares.”

“I wish that greatly.” Tumult confessed.

“Very well. Rest your fingertips upon my forehead, close your eyes, and calm your thoughts.”

Tumult’s thoughts softened, as he nestled into Geno’s mind.

Tumult’s vision passed through a pink cloud, into a vision of golden sunshine wafting through the ornate window of a Lux schoolroom. A dozen feathered children with snow owl faces giggled, rambunctiously awaiting their teacher. A mischievous Lux named Menides tossed a glowing orb of light at his best friend Geno, lost in study. 

Geno smiled and dodged just in time before the sphere almost struck his face. Geno reached out his palm, and froze the golden orb mid-air, levitating it back into his feathered palm. He opened it to read what Menides wrote with light within it. “Geno! The teacher isn't looking! You can do whatever you want!” 

Young Geno considered. “I know she isn’t looking, but I am. I promised papa I’d do my best on the exam, and that wouldn’t be it.” Menides scoffed, whispering, “I don’t have to worry! My papa already bought me the best grade on the exam! I don’t even have to study!” 

Geno’s eyes saddened. “But… how will you learn the Prayers of the Ancients?”

“Psh, my family bought servants for that. I’ve got more fun things to do!” Menides formed another glowing orb of light, and chucked it across the room towards his friends by the front door… just as it opened. The orb struck the face of a young Lux girl, small for her age, entering with the teacher. 

“Ow!” She cried, rubbing her beak softly with her fingertips. Geno’s eyes went wide in sympathy, as the entire classroom erupted in laughter. 

Mrs. Lectia scowled at Menides from across the room. “Menides, I will be speaking to your father after class.”

“Again!” Menides’s feigned fear. He elbowed Geno and chortled under his breath, “Like she thinks anything will happen THIS time.”

Geno rubbed his sore shoulder, furrowed his brow at Menides, then focused back on the girl in pain. She bent down and cupped the golden light orb in her free hand.

Mrs. Lectia continued, “Class we have a new student from the northern mountains to join us for the remainder of the solstice. Everyone, please welcome … Amaris.” 

All the lux children straightened themselves, and swiftly fluttered their wide white wings in a cordial welcome.

Mrs. Lectia pointed Amaris down the row to the empty seat next to Geno. Amaris shyly dodged glances as she tried to hide her tears of pain from her beak.

Geno leaned over to Amaris and whispered, “That looked like it hurt, are you ok?” Her wide green eyes studied Geno for a moment. Her expression warmed to a smile, absorbing his genuine care. “Yeah, it… it’s nothing, it just woke up my migraine.” “Oh, I’m so sorry, my mom gets those too. She says it helps when I pray for them.” Amaris considered. “Would… would you pray for mine?” Geno smiled warmly, “As you wish.” He gently touched her forehead, as her stressed shoulders visibly soothed. He whispered ancient words of blessing he had recently learned from his reading. When their eyes opened Amaris smiled, studying Geno’s golden eyes… “Wha… what’s your name?” 

“Oh! I’m…”

“NOW CLASS! Please shift your orbs to holy scribe 4, chapter 12…” Mrs. Lectia blurted as she began the theology lesson for the day. Menides kept trying to get Amaris' attention through class, rolling golden orbs across the floor hitting her taloned foot, or casting a breeze across her feathered fingers. Geno focused upon the lesson at hand. Amaris… kept glancing over at Geno. 

As the session neared its conclusion, Geno felt an orb hit his taloned foot. He looked over at Menides. He was oblivious, cracking jokes with another student in the corner. Geno then glanced over at Amaris, who raised her eyebrows subtly. Geno picked up the orb and unfolded it, displaying a page made of light. 

On it was written in beautiful handwriting, “Would you help me study what I’ve missed this solstice? Sincerely, Amaris”, with two check boxes beneath, one “yes” and one "no". Geno glanced over at Amaris, hope in her eyes. He considered, then smiled. 

Geno then touched the glowing golden page with his fingertip, and put a check mark under “yes” - signed: “Gladly! - Geno.” He slowly levitated it silently through the air beneath the desks into her palm. She secretly read his response, glanced up at him, and blushed into the most lovey smile he had ever seen.

In the months that followed, Geno and Amaris nurtured a joyful friendship, studying, and getting lost together in their favorite books. Knowing someone actually cared helped Amaris feel more welcome in her strange new home. Geno introduced her to all his friends, and her natural warmth and cheer won her many friends of her own. 

Menides began to complain to Geno that this new girl in town was taking time away from the fun he and Geno used to have together. He missed precision flying between the snow-covered pine trees like an obstacle course. He missed them flinging icicles down the mountain into precise targets. Menides attempted to insert himself into their time, with mixed results. 

One night, the three of them were sprawled in the snow, gazing up at the gorgeous colors of the aurora borealis painting the stars above. Geno asked, “What do you both want to do when you grow up?” 

Menides barked with excitement, “I’m gonna change the world! The Imperium needs more… forward-thinking minds in charge!” Menides glanced over at Amaris, hoping to impress her. 

She breathed deeply, considering. “I believe faith can move mountains. I want to grow the next generation in love. The world needs more of it.” Geno smiled, digesting her answer. Amaris gazed over at Geno. She asked with intense interest. “And what about you?” 

Geno inhaled deeply, considering his words carefully. “I simply want to serve El Shaddai, whatever that looks like.” As Menides rolled his eyes, Amaris felt lost in Geno’s.

As time went on, Geno suggested the three of them try playing together, but Menides increasingly felt like a third wheel. Menides even tried to invite Amaris for some quality time, just the two of them, with the most expensive bouquet of snow blossoms he could find, in hand. Yet, to Menides’ frustration, Amaris repeatedly declined.

The following year, Geno’s father Artifex met a strange new friend on his journey far south in the Pore’hu Jungle. Artifex was a famed Imperium carpenter, whose quality workmanship was frequently sought for even in the holiest of Lux cathedrals. 

He regularly traveled the world seeking training in advanced divinely-blessed woodcraft techniques. After his travels, Artifex invited his new friend, the eccentric engineer, Roger Wrenchratchet, to stay at his home in the Imperium Peaks, and collaborate on exciting new inventions. 

Geno took an immediate liking to the little gnome, and the family quickly accepted him as an adopted uncle, laughing together in the evenings, sharing meals and memories.

One afternoon, the three teens landed on a stack of logs, and folded their wings, rounding the corner of Geno’s family workshop. Amaris rubbed her temples still trying to soothe her migraine from the start of snowberry season. In the distance, they saw the eccentric little gnome Roger tinkering away on a bizarre contraption.  

Menides scowled upon seeing the inventor at work. “Geno, why does your father welcome a filthy gnome’s presence? 

Geno sighed, “Every village has an idiot, thankfully, our village has a genius.” 

Menides scoffed.

Roger Wrenchratchet strained, trying to steady a violently wobbling sprocket. He wiped his machine-greased forearm across his exhausted brow. He blew his mop of messy white hair out of his eyes, then noticed the approaching trio. 

“Ah! My favorite young hatchlings! Geno muh boy! Come help me secure this enfluctuator!

“Hello uncle Roger!” Geno sprinted to help. His eyes scanned bowls of fresh ingredients on the table near the contraption. The rare Heiwa-leaf from the Pore’hu jungle caught his eye. “What does this device do?”

Roger bubbled with joy. “This invention will revolutionize Lux society!”

“Even more so than your optical thought projector?” Amaris gazed in awe at the complex contraption.

Roger confessed, “That one was a bright idea… but never really took off. This NEW device converts the infinite snow of the Imperium Peaks mountains into a beverage that sharpens the mind!

“Amazing!” Amaris mused.

“Right you are Amaris!” Roger nibbled his long white mustache, thinking “Ooo! Can you flip that switch on the left?”

“Gladly!” Amaris jumped to help.

“Just think how much better we’ll be able to decipher the ancient scriptures!” Geno wondered.

Menides grumbled. “Ridiculous! What need have we of laboring over the scriptures ourselves when the HIgh Feather does it for us! Do you question his authority? Typical of a crazy gnome.”

Roger glanced up at the brooding Menides. “Now, young hatchling Menides, it's good to see you too. I’m all for a touch of tradition, but we gnomes have a saying. ‘Trust but verify.’ In my line of work, if it's true, it stands on its own. If it's faulty, the whole gadget explodes! Little room for error in the important things!”

Menides scoffed.

Amaris’ eyes widened. “This cylinder is starting to glow!”

“Great! That means this fresh brew is almost ready! Want a taste?” Roger offered.

“Sure!” Amaris smiled.

“Love to!” Geno reached for an empty cup and gave one to Amaris.

“Definitely not.” Menides crossed his arms.

“As you wish! But uh, Menides, you might wanna move out of that spot.” Roger warned.

“I stand where I please. I don’t take orders from Gnomes.” Menides defied.

“Menides, do what he says!” Geno advised.

“Never.” Menides resolved.

The machine whirred to a climax until a pressure valve released showering Menides in a gush of black goop.

An awkward pause punctuated the silence as Menides dripped.

Roger winced. “Uhh… can I offer you a… towel?” 

Menides stared flatly. “…No.” 

Amaris laughed at Menides covered in goop. 

Roger brightened, “Well, batch is done! Bottoms up!”

The gnome, and the two willing Lux, savored the invigorating flavors.

“This tastes wonderful, and my migraine is gone!” Amaris marveled.

“Splendid.” Menides spat sarcastically.

“Thank you for helping to test the device!” Roger raised his glass in cheers.

“Always, uncle Roger!” Geno thanked his uncle. 

“Due to Menides… uh… feedback, I may need to modify the waste release trajectory. Thankfully, what we build and who we are can always improve!” Roger winked joyfully at Geno and Amaris. “So long!” The excited gnome returned to his tinkering. The three Lux departed, two leaving behind a chorus of laughter, and one leaving behind a trail of black goop.

The end of their final year of seminary neared, and the Fount of Feathers Gala celebration with it. Geno’s exemplary academic achievements and devotion to his faith had gained the notice of the Lux Imperium. He had been offered an accelerated position in an advanced tier of priestly training. 

To prepare for his position, he poured into even more aggressive study. In his heart, the pursuit of truth trumped gaudy celebration, and he had no time to learn how to dance anyway. 

Menides had essentially abandoned his holy training, and nearly flunked out of his studies multiple times due to his hedonistic proclivities, but his wealthy father endlessly found ways to buy him out of trouble. Menides had no worries, as his future was secured. 

His father had bribed his son into a position on the Imperium’s Council of Coin. Menides rabidly craved the opulence of the Fount of Feathers Gala. Knowing of Geno’s disinterest in the event, Menides invited Amaris to join him, offering the finest gryphon-flown carriage as escort. To his embarrassment, she declined.

As the sun began to set the evening of the gala, Geno, lost in his studies, heard something hit his second story window. Curious, he opened the window, to welcome a glowing orb smacking into his face. Wincing and rubbing his forehead, he heard a soft playful giggle from below in the garden. “That looked like it hurt, are you ok?” 

His wide golden eyes blinked in awe, gazing at the beauty of Amaris standing in the garden below, dressed in an opulent gown. His expression warmed to a smile, absorbing her genuine care. 

He rubbed his forehead, “Yeah, it… it’s nothing, it just woke up my… heart.” 

“Oh, I’m so sorry! She teased. “The heroes in the books we read together, do that too. They say it helps when we… share them.” Amaris flirted. 

Geno bit his lip, barely containing the butterflies in his chest. He glanced down at his books, then back into her eyes. He opened the glowing orb into a parchment made of light, and scribbled a message. He levitated it gently down into her open palm. She unfurled the message made of light and read.  

“I warn you though… I don’t know how to dance. Would you help me study the dances I’ve missed this solstice? … Love, Geno”. Amaris bit her lip, butterflies flooding inside her chest. She saw two check boxes beneath, one “yes” and one "no". 

Amaris glanced up at Geno, love in his eyes. She tapped her smiling chin, putting on the show of considering. Geno laughed. She then touched the glowing golden page with her fingertip, answering, and levitated it through the air into Geno’s palm. 

His heart raced as he saw the checkmarked “yes”, and read the words he finally realized his heart had been craving… “Love always, Amaris.”

He stepped out of the window, opened his wings gracefully, and glided down to the garden in front of her softly. Geno smiled with genuine love. He cleared his throat, “Would… would you share your heart with mine?” Amaris bit her lip in giddy glee, whispering. “As you wish.” She blushed. 

Geno cradled her in his arms, kissing her lips softly, “You are… my light” he whispered. He then kissed her nose playfully, “My life” she whispered in response. He then kissed her forehead sweetly and whispered,  “My love.” 

Her wings ruffled in warm contentment, enveloped in the safety of his perfect peace. They both gazed up and smiled at the beauty of a single cloud, painted pink by the sunset.

Geno and Amaris’ love blossomed the following year, and his proposal for marriage was met with overwhelming delight, and relief, by both families. 

Geno’s accomplishments and reputation in the Academy of Divinity had even garnered the notice of the holy High Feather Cavum himself, who offered to officiate the wedding. 

Overwhelmed by the honor of having the Supreme Leader of Lux holy culture offer such a blessing, the families accepted and anticipated the wedding day with glee. 

The bright clouds of the outdoor wedding were seen as a sign of divine blessing. As the seven Nestbrothers walked the aisle with the groom, dressed in dapper marital garb, Geno saddened slightly, feeling Menides' absence. When Geno had asked him to be his High Nestbrother for the wedding, Menides had claimed his business at the Council of Coin demanded him that day. Yet, Geno suspected that was not the reason. 

The seven Feathermaids glided down from the clouds above into their positions on each side of the glowing altar. As the bridal choir music began to waft through the heavens, Geno’s heart nearly stopped in his chest. Descending from the rays of the sun, his bride appeared like a paragon of light. The beauty of her radiant smile warmed Geno’s soul, as his face contorted in overwhelming emotions of love. 

He wiped a tear from his cheek in time to receive Amaris’ hand from her proud father’s hand. Geno’s heart stirred with every word of High Feather Cavum’s devout sermon blessing. The passages of scriptures shared had been etched in Geno’s heart for years. 

As the marital bracelet exchange approached, the entire wedding party turned to see the craftsman himself, carrying them down the aisle on an ornate pillow. The ingenious gnome, Uncle Roger, had hand crafted two genuine works of divine art. The presence of a gnome at a normally exclusive Lux ceremony garnered murmurs from some of those gathered, but were quickly quelled by the gracious High Feather Cavum’s peaceful gesture.

Geno and Amaris exchanged the golden marital bracelets and slid them on each other’s right wrists with an ancient prayer. Both glistening loops began to glow with a divine blessing. High Feather Cavum closed his eyes and brought forth a prophecy that Geno would become the Father of Many. Amaris bit her lip smiling, and the gathered families murmured in delight.

The ceremony neared its conclusion, and High Feather Cavum invited the couple to seal the ceremony with a gesture of love. 

Geno gazed into his bride’s eyes, and kissed her lips, lovingly whispering, “My light.” He then kissed her nose playfully, and she responded, “My life.” He then kissed her forehead sweetly, and he whispered, “My love.”

The gathered crowd erupted with cheers and applause! Wide smiles lit up every face. Music swelled as the couple unfurled their wings, and soared up into the skies to celebrate their marital bliss, hand in hand. They both gazed up and smiled at the beauty of a single cloud, painted pink by the sunshine. In that moment of radiant joy, Geno glanced down behind an ornate statue far below, and could have sworn he saw the face of Menides, gazing forlorn, up at Amaris.

The pirate Tumult exhaled deeply, mind returning to the present moment, having felt years of Geno’s thoughts and experiences as if they were his own. Tumult smiled, savoring the taste of a memory not wreathed in pain. “The sensation is … overwhelming.” The pirate admitted.

“Life can have that effect.” Geno smiled, as he felt Tumult’s fingertips leave his feathered forehead. “Your arms seem to have regained some strength.”

Tumult tried moving his previously unresponsive left arm, and was delighted to see it finally respond to his commands.

“What of your legs?” Geno queried. 

Tumult tried stirring his toes, but grunted in frustration at their painfully lethargic rebellion. He felt a rage build up within him as he exerted, trying to force his will through the excruciating pain. Geno rested his palm upon the pirate’s chest, calmly.

“Please, be at peace. Some healing just takes time, and care. You need your rest, I shall see you are tended to, in my absence.” 

Tumult gazed up into the warm eyes of Geno, and nodded agreement, collapsing back into bed. That night, Tumult’s nightmares were mixed with memories that were not his own, yet he welcomed the peace of some relief. 

When the pirate awoke the next morning, he heard his door gently open to the face of a beautiful elf priestess with long ears, cascading golden hair, and dressed in a flowing white robe. She had a deep kindness in her eyes that reminded him of his Soreth. 

Spikes of pain shot through his thoughts, reminding him of his failure, and missing Soreth with all his heart. Through the door, he saw Sacris, the intimidating Lux templar wearing ornate holy armor. The guard rested his palm upon his weapon, glanced protectively at the elf, then stared ominously at him. Tumult’s breathing sharpened.

The elf greeted him warmly. “Sir, I am Sister Ari, I’m here to refresh your bandages, and administer blessings to the wounds of your mind.” She began to carefully exchange his bandages for fresh ones, praying a blessing over each as they began to emanate divine warmth. 

“Please, call me Tumult.”

“Tumult, it is then.” She smiled. “Your journey thus far seems to reflect your name, sir.”

“That it does. To my detriment, it seems.” Tumult glanced at the length of Ari’s ears. “You are… Ver’delven? My love Soreth is elven as well. Though she hails from the Caelum Sha of the desert.”

“Caelum Sha? Her lineage is… fortunate. Yes, I am Ver’delven. Yet I keep none of their ways.”

“That I understand. I am of Brigand’s Bay, yet I yearn to keep none of their ways.” His eye wandered to his scarred hands. Ari sensed his regret.

Ari confessed, “When I search my past, I would have gladly traded the darkness of the Ver’delf forest for the light of your Soreth’s desert, in many ways.” 

Tumult glanced up into Ari’s eyes, feeling her pain.

“Yet in time, I have learned we are not bound to the darkness of our past… unless we permit it.”

Tumult considered. “My past knows little… but darkness.”

Sacris narrowed his eyes at Tumult from the hallway.

“Perhaps … we can change that.” Ari’s warm smile softened the stabbing pain of his regret. 

“We shall see. Thank you, Sister Ari.”

Her kind expression filled his blurring vision, as the pirate’s exhaustion overwhelmed him. His consciousness slipped into fractured dreams.

The pirate awoke the next morning to the invigorating scent of Heiwa-leaf tea being placed on his nightstand.

“How fares your head, my boy?” Geno gently inquired.

Tumult clutched his throbbing migraine, “My nightmares … remain a fog of confusion.”

“Perhaps my uncle Roger’s personal recipe may stir your senses. I find it helps me gain clarity.” The Lux smiled with the sunrise through the window.

Tumult took a sip of the warm tea and exhaled deeply, savoring the rich flavors. His blurry vision sharpened and what lingered of his fresh nightmares seemed to dissipate. 

“Your life story seems to be as sweet as your tea.” The pirate returned the smile. Geno’s face darkened slightly, remembering. 

“I wish that were true. Much of my early youth was blessed, yes… but not all good things are destined to last.”

“What do you mean?” 

“I have learned that in order to gain clarity, shadow can help contrast the light. We often don’t fully appreciate our blessings until we experience great burdens.”

Tumult considered. “Are you willing to show me?”

Geno paused. “...Are you certain?” 

“I wish to gain your clarity… in whatever form that takes.” Tumult begged.

Geno contemplated, then exhaled. “As you wish.”

Tumult emptied the tea cup, and returned it to the nightstand. He softly touched Geno’s feathered forehead with his fingertips, and cleared his mind, entering Geno’s vivid memory.

Tumult’s mind settled upon the vision of a small cottage on the edge of a snow-swept village. Gazing up the white mountain nearby, he could see an enormous levitating golden ring. Upon the ring rested the vast city of Vee'spis, encircling the summit of the snowy peak. 

On an apprentice priest’s salary, Geno was unable to afford any of the nicer homes in one of the seven holy ring cities spaced across the Imperium Peaks mountains. Yet, he labored passionately to provide his love a fixer-up cottage they could afford, and Amaris made it blossom with personality. 

The first year of Geno and Amaris’ marital bliss was punctuated by romantic improvised kitchen dances while preparing meals together. Missiles of flying flour would puff into each other’s giggling faces as breadmaking battles ensued. 

“Alright you featherface!” Amaris threatened, followed by chasing each other around the living room. Such playful antics often culminated in pleasurable attempts to grow the family they both longed for. They both fervently believed for High Feather Cavum’s prophecy to be fulfilled, that Geno would be the Father of Many. 

One evening, cuddled in bed, Geno asked, “What should we name our first child, my love?” Amaris gazed up at him, smiling, and biting her lip. She considered, then replied, “Sa’nubis, meaning the wisdom of the heavens.” Geno smiled, nodded gently, and whispered, “Perfect”. He gazed out the window and smiled seeing a single cloud, painted pink by the sunset. He savored the moment of love. He kissed her softly, and nestled into sleep.

As the seasons warmed slightly, Amaris even tried repeatedly to get Geno interested in gardening, which he cared nothing for. He wondered why they should pay for flowers, when they grow naturally everywhere! Yet her adorable supplications, fluttering her deep green eyes, often had him up to his elbows in dirt, purely out of love for her. 

On their first anniversary, Geno gifted Amaris her very own extremely rare Heiwa-leaf plant from the distant Pore’hu jungle! Her garden could now provide a fresh supply of the expensive Heiwa-leaf tea that soothed her migraines. Her gift to him was a precious golden locket containing a painting of the two of them in a loving embrace. 

One evening after Geno had returned from a particularly heavy day ministering to the Lux of the village, he entered his home… far colder and darker than he was accustomed. He called for Amaris, to no answer. He heard sobbing in the next room.

He rounded the corner and found his love nestled in darkness, wrapped in her own wings. Her tears fell upon the glowing parchment she held. She gazed up at him, eyes drowning in sorrow. He sped to her side, wrapping her warmly in his wings.

“My love, what is the matter?”

Amaris trembled as she gestured towards the glowing parchment. Geno glanced upon it, reading the words from the Nestmother’s Hospital fertility examination. Her words expressed great sorrow for the heartbreaking result, offering condolences.

Geno’s throat choked up in a well of pain. He held Amaris close, desperately trying to fill her heart with his comfort. She broke into bitter tears, wilting in his arms.

“I’m sorry … I’m sorry! ... I’m sorry I can’t… ” She wailed in a trembling whisper, rocking back and forth.

“No, no, no, no,… don’t you say… don’t you say that, It’s not…” his voice cracked in quivering tears. He held her close, cradling her in his gentle strength.

“Do… Do you still love me?” Amaris gazed up into his eyes, terrified.

Geno tilted her chin up, gazing deep into her heavy eyes. 

He spoke with an intense clarity. “You are my light…” he kissed her lips softly “My life” he kissed her nose gently. “My love” he kissed her forehead, filling her mind with peace. “Still. Still. I love you still.”

Amaris’ tears washed her faint smile, as she nestled into the safety of his heart.

“El Shaddai will provide, He always provides.” Geno comforted.

“He always does…” Amaris whispered, hopefully.

“Still.” Geno reminded.

“Still.” Amaris exhaled, closing her eyes, breathing more peacefully. She held him closer as he embraced her more tightly.

In that moment, the frozen room did not feel… quite so cold.

In time, Amaris took up a teaching position, yearning to pour her great fount of love and knowledge into the children of the village. She felt some fulfillment in pursuing her heart’s desire of blessing the next generation any way she could. One morning, as Amaris was walking a neighbor’s child to the schoolhouse, the warning bell of the village shattered the serenity. 

“Scaled Legion Orcs!” warned a Lux military guard in the bell tower, pointing toward the distant Scaled Spire mountains. Amaris gripped the child and took flight moments before a large green fireball smashed into the ground where they had just walked. As she gained altitude with the crying child, she could see the hellish sight of an endless Scaled Legion war clan marching towards the village. She flew the child to the rally shelter and met Geno and other villagers, gasping for breath. The Siege of the Spires had begun.

In the months that followed, every able-bodied Lux soldier fought valiantly to repel the savage invaders. Lux ground villages were razed. Vile orcish batrider squadrons rained hell down upon them, even threatening the seven holy ring cities levitating high around the mountain peaks. For months, Geno and Amaris tended to the endless stream of wounded Lux soldiers and civilians from the front lines. 

In desperation, High Feather Cavum conscripted priests of Geno’s high skill to bolster the front lines, and attempt to directly counter the new breed of spiritual warfare the gray orcs had unleashed. In the chaos of the war, Geno and Amaris wrote letters to each other daily. They bitterly mourned the loss of Geno’s parents in the siege, yet prayed to keep hope alive. In the final, most desperate battle, Geno ultimately deciphered the spiritual vulnerabilities of the enemy, and slew Warchief Yak'rah, the leader of these new orcish Darkanists, heralding the end of Siege of the Spires war.

As the dust of war settled, Geno and Amaris lovingly agreed to adopt Sacris, a young orphan he rescued, and his four brothers. In the years following, Geno was heralded as a war hero, and eventually gained the adulation of all grateful Lux peoples. So great was the love of the people for Geno that, in time, the Holy High Feather Cavum himself summoned a private meeting with Geno in the High Stone Cathedral.

The morning of the private meeting, Geno and Amaris flew hand in hand from their village up into the sky. Their wings carried them high up the mountain, passing the wide golden base of the closest levitating ring city. They spun through the air joyfully, as their eyes settled upon the largest mountain at the center of the other six, the seventh high capital city of Mor’eth. 

Their taloned feet landed upon the fabric of the long ornate runner rug leading up the hundred steps into the High Stone Cathedral. Geno turned to Amaris, and glanced into her eyes nervously. She whispered “Fear not, my hero.” She winked supportively, and kissed his lips softly “You are my light…” she purred. She kissed his nose playfully, “My life…” he responded. She kissed his forehead soothingly, “My love” she comforted. She then adjusted his robes to be more presentable, and admired him, as he ascended the final steps. 

The divine beauty of the High Stone Cathedral’s interior took Geno’s breath away. He could feel the genuine presence of El Shaddai through the holy chorus echoing within the sanctuary. Geno recognized his own father’s craftsmanship in the intricate details of the holy wooden seat occupied by High Feather Cavum himself. The High Feather smiled, and gestured a cordial greeting. 

“Welcome Geno, please, join me. I wish to know you better.” Cavum beaconed.

“It is a blessing to see my father’s craftsmanship enjoyed by Your Holiness.” Geno bowed humbly.

“Ah yes. A mortal is known by his work. I knew your father’s faith was pure and genuine, as were his labors. He poured that heart of service into crafting this very seat. Many hours I sit upon it, pondering the will of El Shaddai. Others in the Imperium have advised I replace it with an opulent golden throne, ‘one more fitting a servant of the Divine’, as they say.  What do you think of their counsel?

Geno reflected.  “With respect, High Feather, my father taught me, the greater your authority, the more souls you are responsible to serve with it. One who exalts himself, becomes his own idol. The wise honor El Shaddai in humility, not pride.”

The High Feather smiled warmly. “Indeed… you take the truth of scripture to heart more than most. That is …refreshing.”

“In the end, the truth is all we have.” Geno declared.

“Well said…” High Feather Cavum studied Geno for a moment. “I have heard of your pivotal deeds in the Siege of the Spires. Our culture entire may have fallen had you not discerned the enemy so wisely.”

“I simply followed as El Shaddai led.” Geno confessed.

“There is no greater wisdom than that. Hmm…” The High Feather pondered. “Now, Father Ortuso at near 300 is of advanced age, and will be soon retiring as the leader of the 7th holy city Vee’spis. I require a soul I can trust to guide the people of that city with wisdom, and grace. I have been praying fervently, and I believe I have been blessed with El Shaddai’s answer. I ask you, are you willing to serve the people of Vee’spis, … as El Shaddai leads?

Geno felt the gravity of the responsibility. His mouth went dry. He closed his eyes, and prayed fervently, asking for clarity. He felt a peace rest upon his soul. He opened his eyes, and finally found his voice. “I…  am humbled by the appointment, High Feather. I shall serve, as El Shaddai leads.”

High Feather Cavum exhaled in relief. His genuine smile softened his aged features. 

“May you go about your way, in El Shadadi’s light. Blessings upon you, and Amaris. I expect great things.”

Geno bowed deeply, and departed.

The crowd that had gathered outside the cathedral erupted in adulation upon Geno’s exit, surprising him. Amaris kissed him in jubilation. Fidelis, Geno’s personal messenger during the war, approached with his overjoyed wife and children.  

Fidelis beamed, proud of his commander. "Congratulations Father Geno! I do not believe there is a more faithful Lux suited to the honor. My wife, children and I shall pray for you fervently.”

As the adoring crowd eventually dispersed, Geno could see Menides in the distance surrounded by gaudily dressed ministers of coin, fawning over him. 

Geno caught the end of a joke Menides was excreting, “What’s the difference between a gnome, and a coin? ONE OF THEM HAS VALUE!” Menides’ lackeys exploded in servile laughter. 

Dismissing his flatterers, Menides approached. His opulent red regalia and excessive golden jewelry could still not distract from his heavy eyes. He pretended to smile, jesting. “Finally, you crawled your way up to the capital, ol’ Geno.” He embraced his old friend. “Just imagine the… good you and I can do. You, in command of an entire holy city, and me, nearing Master of Coin myself.” Menides glanced over at Amaris for approval, longer than she was comfortable. 

Geno redirected, “Thank you Menides, but I do not command the city, I am being sent to serve them all.” 

Menides shrugged, “A quaint way to phrase it, yet you and I both know the sway you have over the people. I do hope you don’t… squander it.”

“I shall invite the will of El Shaddai, in whatever form that takes.”

“That is… wonderful news! Perhaps then you would be willing to christen your new position by hosting a delegation of representatives from across Terrath’s globe? They are hoping to establish diplomatic and… financial … relations with our Imperium. Now that the dust of the war has settled in our favor, of course.”

Geno glanced over at Amaris and smiled. “We would be delighted.”

“Splendid! I shall make the arrangements.” Menides bowed to them both curtly, and disappeared in the direction of the Ministry of Coin.

Amaris inquired with playful concern, “Agreeing to host house guests, before we’ve even moved into our new house?!”

“My love, El Shaddai moves us in… mysterious ways.” Geno winked, kissing her playfully. They both gazed up and smiled seeing a single cloud, painted pink by the sunshine. The two held hands and flew toward the village, to begin packing.

The next week was a flurry of packing, moving and settling into their lovely, far more spacious home in the floating golden ring city of Vee'spis. 

Uncle Roger Wrenchratchet’s small gnomish stature was less than helpful moving large items, but he contributed all he could, organizing the effort, and making the transports as efficient as possible. His quips and cheer kept everyone joyfully motivated. The gnome was eager to set up his new workshop, and continue his cutting-edge experiments on harnessing and converting materialized faith energy. 

However, Sacris, having grown up and distinguished himself among Lux military leadership, demonstrated great physical and mental strength during the move. He protected Geno and Amaris from excessive overexertion, and the rabid journalists wanting the scoop on the new leader. 

The citizens welcomed war hero Geno with open arms, and were delighted to have fresh leadership to guide their city into a brighter future.

The evening of the delegation’s arrival finally came, and Amaris scurried around trying to put the last touches on the home she worked so hard to make presentable to her high standard of care. Geno tried to calm her excitement as the first delegates arrived, to little avail. 

The dignitaries began to file in on levitating carriages, steam-powered zeppelins, purebread griffins, and exotic wind serpents. 

Beautiful high elves as far distant as the Ver’delf forest made their grand entrance.

A translucent crystalline Iridia gracefully walked into the chamber, chiming a wordless greeting.

Stoic Viribus tigerfolk appeared, growling at the salad offerings, yet purred in delight when the meaty main course was served.

Geno and Amaris welcomed the exhausting variety of exotic races from across Terrath. They finally checked the guest list and lamented that one delegate’s name appeared to be absent. Regretfully, they prepared to close the gate, until the most unusual visitor arrived, dismounting a giant vulture. 

A mighty green orc approached, clothed in Grimuck Swamp ‘finery’. Geno raised an eyebrow, having never seen an orc far different and far distant from the gray-skinned enemies of the Scaled Spires. 

The orc bowed cordially and barked. “Please, pardon my tardiness, there was a paperwork issue at the security checkpoint. I am Fen Mudslide!” He offered his thick green hand to shake. Geno glanced at Amaris, who smiled and nodded encouragement. Geno shook the hand of the orc. 

“Welcome to our home, delegate Mudslide, I hope your flight was comfortable.” 

“To be honest, wrestling swamp eels is more comfortable than riding the back of a giant vulture for five days!” Fen jested.

Amaris laughed warmly. “Well I can promise you, our chairs should be less infectious.” 

Fen laughed heartily, took Amaris’ hand, and thanked her for her hospitality. He bowed respectfully at Geno. “I have heard of your heroism and faithfulness during the war against that wretched Scaled Legion. My people of Grimuck Swamp and I wish to learn the ways of El Shaddai, if you are willing to teach us.” He offered Geno the gift of a hand-crafted wooden chalice of his people, and Amaris a rare Muckroot flowering plant, famed for its beauty. 

“I heard the lady of the manor enjoyed gardening, as does my wife Mora. She wishes you have this. Enjoy!” Geno and Amaris expressed their sincere thanks, and welcomed Fen into the hall, to the suspicion of most Lux, and uncomfortable murmurs of many of the other races.

The dinner guests began mingling and casually sharing their proposals for new trade agreements, and religious collaborations. Amaris approached Geno with Fen, both laughing. “Fen wishes to see the trade district, and our majestic capital gardens.” 

He explained, “I would love to bring my wife home a Mor’eth blossom!” Amaris nodded, “I’d be delighted to offer him a tour, before they close soon for the weekend.” Geno glanced at Amaris considering. “Oh, but I wouldn’t want it to be an inconvenience…” Fen assured. Geno looked around at the busyness of the guests in the hall, and back at Amaris. 

Sacris approached from his guard position, sensing the need. “I am willing to escort Amaris, and your guest, to ensure their errand is safe and swift.” Geno smiled in relief. “Yes, that shall do nicely.” Sacris, Amaris, and Fen took flight on wing and vulture from the high balcony, towards the capital mountain. 

Hours passed, and the evening neared its conclusion. The trio returned with radiant Mor’eth blossom in hand, and a few mementos from the trade district for Fen’s children. Amaris and Geno bade the guests goodnight, then they finally collapsed in exhaustion.

The next morning, alarm bells shocked Geno awake. He sprinted downstairs into the atrium, meeting Sacris already there gripping his weapon. Geno’s personal messenger Fidelis landed through the ceiling opening, panicked, and out of breath. 

“Father Geno, I did not know who else I could trust, so I came to you. You must hear me! The High Feather…. He was murdered!”

Geno’s heart nearly stopped. “...Murdered? El Shaddai! How could this be?!”

“I saw it with my own eyes! I was tasked to deliver an urgent message directly to the High Feather late last night. As I approached his chamber, I saw a cloaked figure depart from his study. When I entered, I saw the High Feather himself, stabbed, with an orcish blade deep into his spine!”

Geno glanced out the window, to see an Imperium prison transport shoving his orcish guest Fen into chains, departing for the capitol. 

Sacris grumbled furiously. “I was with delegate Fen and Amaris all of last night, and he did not leave after he took his rest here. There is no way he committed this … abomination.”

Geno’s mind raced, “Then why would the Imperium try to frame him?”

“I do not know! Perhaps they feared mass panic? Could they be trying to prevent the crushing burden of another war?”

Geno exhaled, overwhelmed. “These are dark tidings.” Geno glanced up at his messenger. “Fidelis, please, keep me informed of any secrets you discover, but, for the sake of your family, be careful. Blessings upon you.”

“Blessings upon you, Father Geno.” Fidelis’ nervous breathing steadied as he bowed deeply. He opened his wings and launched himself up through the opening in the atrium ceiling.

In the weeks that followed, the High Priests nominated one of their own elite, Father Glorio, to the position of Supreme High Feather over all Lux. Geno desperately attempted to convince the Imperium of Fen’s innocence, to no avail. Oppressive new edicts began to flow from the capitol, demanding adherence to a new doctrine that emphasized religious services for profit. The imperium increased taxation, limited free gathering without Imperium inquisitors present, and severe punishments for any who protested. 

Geno was slow to accommodate the few mandated changes to his city that he tolerated, and outright refused the majority that repulsed his conscience. Fidelis began to trickle encrypted reports from the capital to Geno of mysterious disappearances of those who disobeyed.

After Geno had sold nearly all of his personal belongings to aid the suffering people of his city, Fidelis delivered a sealed missive from the throne of the new Supreme High Feather Glorio, demanding his immediate presence. Geno flew through gray clouds to the capitol mountain ring city, his shoulders tight with deep stress. 

Landing, he gazed up at the High Stone Cathedral, and noticed it had been gilded in gaudy gold. To Geno, what was once a place of divine peace, now felt like a palace of desolate plunder. Suspicious elite guards opened the grand doors, admitting him into a chamber that stank of spiritual oppression. 

Geno saw the new High Feather, Glorio, sprawled on his opulent golden throne, maidens fawning on each side. He saw Menides, now Coinmaster, staring obediently, in the distant shadows.

 “Greetings Geno. You will approach.” Glorio crooned. Geno noticed the previous wooden seat of High Feather Cavum, that Geno’s father had crafted by hand with care, had been replaced by an opulent golden throne. 

“High Feather Glorio.” Geno bowed curtly. He gestured at the gaudy replacement throne. “I see you have already made some… changes.”

“Indeed. It was time to replace that quaint monstrosity with a seat more fitting the Voice of the Divine.”

Geno breathed slowly, holding his tongue. Glorio tapped his feathered fingertips on his golden scepter, studying Geno.

Glorio spat, “I heard of your wife’s miscarriage. A pity.” 

Menides shifted in the shadows.

The words stung Geno’s chest. “She is … strong of heart. We will persevere.”

“It would seem that death is the only certainty in life.” Glorio pontificated.

Geno paused, collecting his thoughts. “I can think of a few others.”

“Indeed… in light of … recent events, we do need ones close to us that we can be… certain of. That is why I have summoned you here. You will be changing the way you run your high city of Vee’spis.” 

An Imperium acolyte approached Geno, handing him a large golden-wrapped tome. 

“You shall teach your people exclusively from the contents of this curated doctrine, and expel all others.”

“You wish the people to not know the whole truth of Scripture?” Geno clarified.

“The people are … busy. Who has time to wade through such cryptic texts? It is my privilege alone to provide the people what they need to know.”

Geno exhaled. “I shall … examine … this tome… thoroughly. Is there anything else?”

“Yessss…. I have also received word from my Council of Coin. Coinmaster Menides reports that… the offerings you have collected for the Imperium are … waning severely of late.” Menides leveled his stare directly at Geno.

“The increase of those in desperate need since the war has required us to reallocate resources for their survival. As scripture says, ‘Ye shall look after your orphans and widows in their distress, and keep thyself from being polluted by the world.’ Our actions clearly align with the principles of Holy Scripture.”

Hearing the scripture quoted, High Feather Glorio became visibly furious. He slammed his fist down upon his golden throne. “I determine what is holy! The Imperium requires what I demand! You will obey, or be… replaced. I expect the next financial delivery from your city shall be more… generous.”

“Are you willing to fill Imperium coffers… by the suffering of your dying people?”

Glorio smirked. “Death is the only certainty. You will do what you must.”

A tense silence echoed through the ornate halls.

“...and what of the fate of the orc delegate, Fen?”

Glorio stared Geno dead in the eye. “You are dismissed.”

Geno clenched his jaw, gripped the burdensome tome tightly, and departed with haste.

Days later, Amaris entered Geno’s study. “My love, you have not slept in three days!”

Geno lifted heavy eyes from the golden tome of “New Doctrine” he was commanded to foist upon his people. “The words of this new doctrine are POISON! They not only conflict with established truth, they introduce evils that corrupt the soul!” If I teach this, I will be doing harm to the people I love and am sworn to guide! If I do not, I shall be replaced with someone who will! What am I to do!?”

Amaris wrapped him in her wings, and whispered in her husband’s ear. “As I was praying this morning, I believe I received a word from El Shaddai. I heard a still, small voice speak, ‘When you feel most lost, return to the Source’.”

Geno’s tired eyes gazed up at Amaris in hesitant optimism. “You don’t mean?” Amaris smiled, and nodded. “But those temples have been abandoned for generations! Buried out of sight since the Catastrophe!” Amaris nodded her head, smiling, “Faith is the evidence of things unseen. Go, and see.”

Geno gazed into her deep green, hopeful eyes. “As you wish…” He cradled her cheek in his palm. He kissed her softly, “My light” he whispered. “My life” she replied, as he kissed her sweetly on the nose. “My love” he whispered, kissing her forehead with infinite affection.

A deep night of rest later, Geno opened his wings and launched high into the skies to seek out the old temples. He flew far north, further than any Lux had the sense to go in centuries. The freezing winds intensified. The harsh northern blizzards began to battle his sight. 

As he began to lose feeling in his extremities, his heart felt curiously warmer and warmer, as if something was calling to him. The blizzard became so intense, his sight became useless. He flew simply as he felt guided. 

All he could see in every direction was a mystifying blur of white… until the largest mountain he had ever seen seemed to manifest out of the air itself. He landed in the snow, wrapping himself tightly for any modicum of warmth. 

He entered a cave near the pinnacle of the mountain, and felt the echoes of ancient prophecy sound through the tunnels.

The deeper he traversed from the storm, the more at peace he felt. He began to pray fervently. Holy inscriptions on the walls of stone began to glow brightly as he passed them. 

He felt the echoes of ancient hymns crescendo, until he entered an enormous ice cavern with golden symbols made of light, levitating in the air. 

He felt the air sucked out of the chamber for a moment, when an EXPLOSION of white light overwhelmed his soul. He fell to his knees instinctually, overpowered by the gravity of a righteous presence. He lifted his hand to block the blinding light from his eyes. 

His blurred vision began to focus upon the form of a gigantic white dragon gazing down at him, in perfect peace. Geno’s heart shuttered, feeling infinitely powerless, yet, somehow, safe. The dragon spoke into Geno’s thoughts with a gentle, yet earth-shattering voice.

“Fear not, Geno, Father of Many. I am Guntius, a Paragon uncorrupted. Your faithfulness has been rewarded. I have been sent by El Shaddai to speak the Truth.”

Geno’s voice felt frozen in his chest. “I… I am humbled more than words can express, Radiant Paragon Guntius. The ancient scriptures speak of your deeds in the Cosmic War, yet many of the scribes consider you a mere allegory, or fable.”

Guntius slowly rumbled. “Truth is seen as a fable to those who worship lies.” 

Geno considered. “I feel like I am drowning in them! For every truth I try to speak, ten lies are screamed back at me! I am being commanded to say that which I do not believe! What am I to do!?”

“Those who have been exposed to the deep spiritual evil of Luxian, as you did during the Siege of the Spires, tend to detect it more clearly.”

Guntius slowly glanced up at the golden words of light shimmering in the air of the massive ice cavern.

“Lies always require defense. Truth simply needs to be… unleashed.” With the subtle gesture of the mighty dragon’s white talon, the thousand golden words of truth levitating in the chamber all siphoned with a rushing mighty wind into Geno’s chest. He felt overwhelmed by the influx of wisdom. Geno collapsed onto his knees, worshiping El Shaddai in grateful tears.

“What is El Shaddai’s will?”

“Deception is a prison. The truth will set you free. Go, and free your people, no matter the cost.”

Geno rose to his feet with divine determination. He gazed up at the symbol of El Shaddai on the ceiling, and declared, “As you wish.”

Geno soared, returning to city Vee’spis on wings propelled by destiny. He burst through his balcony doors to Amaris, who smiled, seeming unsurprised by his urgency. He kissed her with wild enthusiasm, and slammed a glowing blank parchment down upon his desk. 

He began furiously writing his impassioned critiques of High Feather Glorio’s new corrupt doctrine. Meticulously comparing scripture, hours passed in moments as Amaris endlessly refilled Geno’s Heiwa-leaf tea. 

Pulse pounding, Geno finally slammed his pen down upon his desk, breathing intensely. He scanned the ninety-five points of criticism he just penned. He glanced up at Amaris. “May the truth set us free.” Amaris gazed deeply into his eyes. “May the truth set us free.” She agreed. Geno inhaled deeply, “I must get the word out. Where is Uncle Roger?”

Geno sped to Roger Wrenchratchet’s workshop, adjacent to Geno’s home. He burst through the door, “Uncle Roger! I need a way to get a message out to all the people of the high cities, all at once!”

The gnome chuckled and cracked his small knuckles in excitement. “Funny you should ask, I’ve been tinkering with my optical thought projector just this week, what do you have in mind… literally?”

“I wish to return the heart of the Lux to Truth. They need to see the poisonous error of the Imperium’s doctrine before it is too late!”

“Ah! Finally someone willing to cut through the fog! Let me light up the device, and we’ll see if you can light up the Lux!”

“That is my prayer…”

Hours later, Geno and the gnome stood out front in a wide open clearing. The excited gnome fiddled with the complex gadget, twice the size of himself. Roger torqued one final bolt and wiped his brow triumphantly.

“There we go, let her rip!”

Geno prayed deeply, closed his eyes, and placed his right palm above the humming device. He began to meditate upon the Ninety-five Truths. An explosion of light emanated from the device into the heavens. Glowing golden words of light levitated through the clouds, encircling all seven high cities of the Imperium Peaks. 

Thousands of Lux began exiting their homes, gazing up in wonder at the spectacle of the messages written in the sky. They read, and were amazed. Others read, and were enraged. Roger sped-read them all with brilliant speed, gulped, and slowly shifted his eyes to Geno.  

Hesitantly, he spoke. “Do… you know what you’ve just done?”

Geno gazed down at his loving uncle. “I fear I do. It will be dangerous for anyone to remain in my city. It would be wise for you to flee to the safety of your people.”

The gnome reflected meaningfully for a moment. He then took Geno’s hand gently.

“Your father had faith in me when no one else did. I will do the same for you my boy. I’m with you, to the end.” 

Geno smiled as a tear ran down his face. He squeezed Roger’s hand tightly, and they both began to prepare for the consequences of revolution.

High Feather Glorio’s Imperium immediately sent Menides with a contingent of Inquisitors to Geno’s home, demanding he recant the message he had sent. Sacris and his loyal elite guard stood resolutely between them, protecting Geno and Amaris. Geno refused to recant.

Menides urged, “Geno, your stubborn foolishness may yet be the death of you! But please, have the wisdom to send Amaris back with me to the capitol where I can at least ensure HER safety!” Menides glanced at Amaris, longingly. 

“I made my choice long ago, Menides,” Amaris stated with a face of stone. 

Menides darkened. “It seems foolishness… is infectious. That saddens my heart.” Menides lamented. He glanced at Sacris and his resolute guards, and departed with his inquisitors.

Glorio was furious to hear Geno’s response. Open persecution and forced disappearances of the faithful began to intensify across the other six cities. The thousands of Lux who would not openly reject the truths Geno had espoused, started making pilgrimage, moving to Geno’s city, Vee’spis. 

Geno and Amaris poured their hearts into caring for the beleaguered influx. The few citizens of Vee’spis who were not committed to truth, fled to the other six cities they considered more safe, terrified of the conflict to come.

Late one night in a dark alley, Geno accepted an urgent request to meet with a cloaked ally from the capitol. Messenger Fidelus broke the silence, terrified. “Father Geno, I haven’t much time. I have only slipped away from my post for a moment.”

“Fear not Fidelus. Please, join us in my city! We can offer your family some protection!” Geno begged.

“Father Geno, I fear for you… for the faithful of your city. I am torn… but I cannot join you. My wife, my children, all would be at risk if we were to openly stand against the High Feather. I must care for their safety.”

Geno paused, perturbed. “I… understand.”

“But… Perhaps… I may find a way to continue informing your cause of the truth of what is happening… from inside the Imperium.”

Geno considered. “Do as El Shaddai guides. Peace if possible. Truth at all costs. May the truth set us free.”

Fidelus nodded. “May the truth set us free.”

In the weeks following, Fidelus communicated encrypted messages that rumors of civil war began to fester. Fidelus leaked High Feather Glorio’s plans to execute Fen, the innocent orc delegate, publicly and without trial, for the assassination of High Feather Cavum. The citizens who bowed to the new corrupt Imperium, had demanded blood. 

Geno’s stress amplified, feeling the gravity of the approaching injustice. He sought peace, he sought Amaris. 

He found her outside in her garden. Geno’s soul exhaled as he approached, hearing her soft voice beautifully singing his favorite hymn. She sensed his approach. “Please, let me help you bear your burdens, my love.” 

Geno tried to steady his anxious breathing. “I fear the genocide of my people is imminent. Yet even in our defense, I do not wish to kill my kin who would attack us.” Amaris nodded, considering the complexities. She shifted her deep green eyes from her love, to her labors. 

“Some plants in our garden grow well next to each other.” She gestured at radiant blossoms, intertwining. “Yet sometimes, the soil is tainted, and the blossom starts to die.” She gazed down at the wilting Muckroot flower Fen’s wife gifted her. “No matter how hard a flower tries, it cannot survive in unfit soil.” Geno watched her lovingly cradle the Muckroot blossom, and transplant it to a fresh flower bed, rich in nourishment. She prayed over the gifted plant. To Geno’s amazement, the Muckroot flower began to subtly blossom beautifully. “El Shaddai moves in mysterious ways. Sometimes, He moves us, as well. Will you still be faithful to Him, no matter what?” 

A tear trickled down Geno’s face, “Still.” Amaris smiled warmly, and embraced her husband. 

“I am proud of you, my Geno.” She kissed him softly “My light”. She kissed his nose playfully. He whispered “My life.” She kissed his forehead soothingly, “My love.” Her voice comforted.  They both absorbed the peaceful moment, gazing up at a single cloud, painted pink by the sunset. 

 The moment was interrupted by a violent banging on their front door. 

To his shock, Geno saw a family of seven Lux, and a green orc. Fidelius, covered in his own blood, gripped the hand of his wife and children. As the door opened he collapsed to the ground, heaving with multiple mortal wounds. Geno rushed to steady his dying friend. 

Geno gasped, “By El Shaddai! Fidelius, what have you done?” Fidelius coughed up blood, dredging for his voice. Geno began trying to mend the spiritual wounds, gushing invisible red smoke, to no avail.

Fen softly explained, “This brave Lux’s conscience would not permit me to be executed. He forcibly smuggled me out of prison… yet, we were…  pursued.”

Fidelius’ eyes began to glaze over, as his wife, Geno and Amaris cradled him. Fidelius barely found his voice, “Peace if possible… Truth at all costs... Sometimes peace is not possible.... Yet, the truth was worth the cost.”

Geno’s heart broke. His voice rasped, “I shall care for your family, my dear Fidelius. I swear it.”

Fidelus tried to smile through infinite pain, “May the truth…  set us free.” He breathed his last.

Geno’s eyes shut tightly as tears painted his face. He envisioned the future. He gazed up at the orc fugitive. 

War was coming.

The pirate Tumult’s thoughts shuddered, returning to the present moment, exhausted. The immersive visions of Geno’s memory began to fade like smoke, as Tumult searched Geno’s aged, golden eyes. 

Tumult admitted, “I am… sorry. I misjudged your past. I see more clearly now…but. How? …how did you endure such heavy burdens?”

Geno smiled painfully. “Sacrifice, and faith are closely intertwined. You have endured much of my visions. For now, you need rest, lest your mind be lost in them.”

Tumult gazed down at his own chest drenched in sweat. He felt the increasing invigoration of his body contrast the twisted exhaustion of his soul. He nodded, absorbing the wisdom of his mentor, and let his mind rest into sleep.

The following morning, Tumult was awakened by an intimidating Lux presence. Sacris, guarding the door, had opened it, glaring at the pirate. Tumult inquired. “Lux, why do you suspect me so?” 

Sacris’ golden eyes pierced Tumult’s soul. “I see in your soul the same darkness that murdered my family in the Siege of the Spires. The same chaos that I shielded Father Geno from during the wars. I will not see the evil within you, or your thieving kind, claim any more of the ones I love.” 

“Yes, to my shame, as a navigator I aided evil. Yet I yearn to be free of it.” Tumult begged.

“Desire is not destiny. What EVIDENCE do I have, that you wish to serve any cause greater than yourself?”

Tumult considered. “I confess, you have none. Yet I swear, I shall provide it.”

“You expect me to believe the oath of a pirate? Hm! We shall see.” Sacris accused.

Geno approached, resting his hand calmly upon Sacris’ shoulder. “Sacris, thank you for your vigilance, I shall take the next shift of our friend’s care.” Sacris scowled at Tumult, saluted Geno reverently, and closed the door. 

Geno could feel Sacris’ presence not move from guarding the doorway. Geno smiled.

“Sacris does not seem at ease in my presence.” Tumult admitted.

“In the spectrum of ‘Trust, but verify’, he leans far more heavily on the ‘verify’. For good reason.”

“I understand.” Tumult confessed.

Tumult slowly tested his arms, and moved his legs slightly, amazed. “I can nearly stand on my own. Your healing powers are truly amazing!”

“It is not of my own works. Pride rots the soul. It is El Shaddai that empowers. Your physical wounds seem to be healing swiftly. How fares your soul?” Geno inquired.

A darkness fell across Tumult’s face. “In my nightmares, I feel a tangled web of fear within me. I do not know if I will succeed in fulfilling my promise to Soreth, my love. Even if I did, what if I were to become a husband like my father? A monster?” 

From Tumult's bandaged eye, a drop of invisible red smoke slid down Tumult’s cheek. “Perhaps she is better without me, safer, distant from all of my sins.” He glanced up at Geno. “What do you do, when drenched in fear? How did your soul survive that final battle?”

Geno smiled painfully. “It is impossible for me to describe in words.”

“I beg you. I must know.” Tumult pleaded.

Geno paused, considering. “If you feel you are ready, I will share with you the final truth.”

Geno sat in meditation near the pirate’s bed, and closed his eyes. Tumult touched his fingertips to Father Geno’s mind. The two of them entered Geno’s memory.

The sky above the city of Vee’spis exploded. Infuriated by Geno’s rebellion, High Feather Glorio commanded the might of Imperium military forces to begin a full scale assault upon his city. Geno dispatched his most skilled priests to encircle the bomb shelters of his people with small shields of golden light, absorbing some of the sky barrage assault. 

The sky above the city of Vee’spis exploded. Infuriated by Geno’s rebellion, High Feather Glorio commanded the might of Imperium military forces to begin a full scale assault upon his city. Geno dispatched his most skilled priests to encircle the bomb shelters of his people with small shields of golden light, absorbing some of the sky barrage assault. 

Geno conferred with his most trusted advisers in his makeshift war room, trying to stategise his beleaguered people’s defense. Sacris announced, “Those fleeing the city are being shot out of the air by the Imperium. The ground is our only option. Soon, our defensive efforts of the city will be exhausted, and we will be vulnerable to a full infantry invasion.”

Geno glanced down at the map of his city, considering the options. “If this barrage is to continue, our city will fall out of the sky, entire. Roger, what of your new research developments?”

“I’ve devised a mass levitation device powered by the materialized faith energy of our people!”

“Should our foundations be destabilized, do you believe it will be enough to keep our city aloft?”

“What you ask will require more materialized faith energy than I calculate the people of any city are capable of producing.”

“Then we shall have to believe for a miracle. Now is the time. Give the world. All of our people are to evacuate to our temple mount summit.”

Amaris took Geno’s hand as he shielded them, dodging deadly Imperium bombardments as they ran between ravaged buildings. Fen, Sacris and his guards routed imperium assassins lurking in the streets on their path. Finally, the survivors of Vee’spis assembled on the temple mount summit.

The imperium barrage quieted, ominously.

The gnome requested the strength of Sacris, Fen and Geno to position his soul amplification device at the top of a destroyed belltower. Roger feverishly asked Amaris to assist him in configuring the device. Geno commanded the thousands of people of the city to stand behind him, beneath the tower for protection.

The Imperium forces took to their wings. Thousands of soldiers held stationary flight positions aloft, just outside Geno’s levitating city perimeter. A predator, eyeing its prey. Menides wing’s hovered just behind the front line troops. He gazed at Amaris in the distance. He exhaled sharply. He gestured grandly, commanding the sound. Ominous trumpet fanfare blasted, announcing the arrival of Supreme High Feather Glorio.

Geno could sense his darkness approaching. 

High Feather Glorio ascended from the darkened clouds. 

He locked eyes with Geno. He bellowed, rallying his troops. “This day, we shall exact divine punishment upon Geno the heretic, and the people he has deceived!”

Geno’s eyes widened, seeing the enemy artillery begin to glow, readying a devastating air strike. Geno’s pulse raced.

Glorio roared. “Fire!” 

Geno closed his eyes, spread his right hand above the device, and prayed with all his soul to protect his people. The glowing holy shield he cast amplified enormously, encircling the thousands of souls gathered at the base of his tower.

A punishing imperium barrage struck Geno’s massive shield of holy white flame. Geno winced in intense pain, feeling every impact redirected to his soul. At the base of the tower, children wept in the arms of their mothers, senses assaulted by the terror of the shielded attack.

Glorio saw Geno’s enormous shield dome made of light begin to crack. A viscous grin infected his face. “We are near our retribution! Advance!”

His front line shock troops landed on the edge of the city, and began marching towards the enormous golden dome.

Glorio roared, “Unleash… justice!” The shock troops unsheathed their glowing weapons and began striking the dome with savage ferocity. Geno roared in agony, and dropped to a knee, his soul absorbing the excruciating punishment.

Glorio licked his lips, savoring the terror of the children Geno was shielding. He shifted his gaze to his strongest warrior on the front line, “Commander, take no prisoners, for they are lost souls!”

For the first time, Menides sensed a level of darkness emanating from Glorio he had not perceived before. He saw the fear in Amaris’ eyes. Menides’ eyes went wide in shock. He lamented under his breath in horror. “It… was not supposed to happen like this.”  “It… was not supposed to … happen … this way.”

Glorio gripped his fists tightly, salivating over his impending victory.

“Fire!” Glorio roared. 

Amaris lept and clung to her husband, steadying him. The intensified barrage slammed into the shield dome, knocking all Geno’s people to the ground, save Geno and Amaris, anchored to the device. Geno roared in pain, absorbing the barrage’s punishment. 

To Geno and Amaris’ horror, their eyes opened to a hole the size of a home cracked into the shimmering dome directly between Geno and the distant High Feather. Amplified by the device, only Geno and Amaris could spiritually perceive an invisible red smoke gushing out of Glorio’s eyes. The crimson smoke materialized around Glorio into the shape of an enormous red dragon’s head. 

The voice of an ancient evil echoed the dark prophecy,

“Iiiiii shall take everything from youuuu, ….and youuuu shall curse your God… in the end!”

The High Feather crossed his arms over his chest. His eyes rolled back as he gutterally chanted a dark evil. A vile energy swelled within him. Geno’s eyes widened.

Amaris glanced down into the eyes of a child, terrified below. She looked at the shield, the last protection her people had from death. She gazed into her husband’s eyes, enduring immeasurable pain to protect the lives of the ones he loved. She cradled his face, smiled and whispered… “Still.”

Geno, hand anchored to the device, begged in a shattered whisper, “No!...no....no....” 

The possessed High Feather roared with draconic fury and flung his arms wide open. An explosion of darkanist energy erupted outward from his chest knocking all of his flying Imperium soldiers out of the sky. The blast of ancient evil pierced the hole in the shield. Amaris stepped between her husband and the darkness. Her body absorbed the soul-eviscerating impact of the demonic strike. Her body collapsed to the ground. 

Geno’s unleashed fury erupted with a divine wrath deep within him. He roared in a primal rage, and ripped his arms wide open, exploding his shield outward in a wave of white flame, knocking unconscious all outside the dome.

In the sudden terrifying silence, he collapsed to his knees, cradling his wife’s charred body in his arms. His tears fell upon her burnt face. He desperately tried to pour the last vestiges of his soul into healing her. Blood pooled from her lips, as her eyes barely opened. 

Her dying voice rasped, “Will you still be faithful to Him, no matter what?” Geno’s heart broke. Her quivering hand barely touched his cheek. She tried to smile. She kissed his lips lovingly. “My light?...” She kissed his nose gently. His voice broke, “My life…” 

Before she could speak the final word, her eyes went cold. 

Geno wept bitterly, rocking back and forth, cradling his lifeless bride. 

He felt a rage build up within him, a fury he had never known. 

He felt a word of tortured wrath begin to swell in his throat… until…

…he heard the still small voice of El Shaddai whisper a gift of comfort into his soul. 

“...My love.”

In that sacred moment, the righteous fury in Geno’s soul ignited his faith. The widening pit of grief in his chest began to fill with holy comfort. A pillar of light descended through the dark clouds, and his eyes ignited with divine inspiration. Cradling his love, he began to levitate high up above the tower. All the people of the city gazed up in wonder. Geno whispered, as a prayer dripped down his cheek. 

“El Shaddai, let your truth… set us free.”

In a divine cataclysm, holy light erupted from Geno, slicing the top of the seventh mountain from its base, and lifting the entire pinnacle into the sky. Fragments of the destroyed golden ring city Vee’spis that circled the temple summit, crashed down into what was left of the mountain base.

Geno marveled, as through him, the hand of El Shaddai moved the mountain pinnacle far distant from the grasp of the Imperium Peaks. The city came to its rest south, levitating in a remote sanctuary above a fertile green peninsula.

Geno felt the united faith of his people keep the city aloft, cradled in the invisible hand of El Shaddai.

The pirate’s soul quivered under the weight of the vision. Tumult’s senses slowly returned to the present, feeling his body tremble in waves of emotion. His tear-blurred vision settled, seeing Geno's aged eyes still closed, savoring the bittersweet memory. 

Geno finally opened his eyes, as the pirate embraced the priest with overwhelming gratitude. Geno beheld Tumult and saw the last drop of invisible red smoke dripping from under his bandaged eye, replaced by clear clean tears. Geno rested his healing palm on Tumult’s bandaged cheek.

 “Beloved Tumult, I offer you this wisdom. You have felt the monstrous burden of your past, as I have mine. In us both lies a fury that could twist us into that which we most hate. Yet it is only El Shaddai that can truly cleanse us. Only He can fill the hole in our heart. Only He can give us hope. My wife Amaris chose to give her life to save mine. There is no greater love than that. I would marry her again a hundred times if I could!” 

“If El Shaddai has blessed you with a woman worth far more than rubies, do not run from that gift. Embrace the responsibility. Commit to her in the sight of El Shaddai, and choose to live as a man of honor, worthy of such a gift. Now is the time for you to choose to become the hero you were born to be.”

Tumult bowed his head, and for the first time, prayed deeply to El Shaddai. He felt his soul swell in radiant light. He stood up with his full strength before Father Geno, and from the depths of heart declared, “I swear it.”

Geno smacked him on the back with a broad grin and winked, “Now, go get that girl.”

Tumult burst from the room with focused purpose. Sacris, having overheard the entire conversation, eyed Geno with a new understanding of Tumult. Sacris inquired wordlessly. Geno nodded approval. The mighty templar followed the ex-pirate towards the docks to begin their voyage. 

Geno strode down the back hallways of his House of E’spris Orphanage. He saw Roger in his expanded workshop, teaching some goggled youth how to tinker with his latest inventions. Geno walked past another room, and absorbed the heavenly chorus of Sister Ari teaching the children to sing Amaris’ favorite hymn. He smiled. He entered his private study, and sat upon his prayer mat. 

As he settled into his meditations, he was blessed with a new vision. He saw Tumult, Sacris and a fresh ship’s crew depart the port of Sa’nubis. He sensed days of sailing, overcoming foes in their path. He saw Tumult dive off the ship and guide his crew through an underwater cave tunnel. 

He surfaced in a cavern, and was amazed to find an old friend, a feline crewmate Tumult feared dead, miraculously alive! He felt Tumult’s mind outsmart old pirate adversaries, and enter a chamber wreathed in spiritual darkness. 

Geno sensed Tumult’s heart skip a beat, seeing his love Soreth and a group of Sirenian children huddled in arcane cages glowing ominously. Geno smiled, seeing Tumult’s new strength of mind, body and soul defeat an intimate, bitter adversary, half-blinded like Tumult. Tumult banished the man with one dead eye into the maw of an ancient darkness. 

Geno exhaled deeply in his vision, seeing Tumult finally embrace a beautiful Caelum Sha elf, freed from her captivity. He knelt, and in the sight of El Shaddai, asked her to be his eternal love. She accepted with profound joy, and leapt into his arms. 

A tear of relief graced Geno’s cheek as his vision returned him to the present. 

Sister Ari glanced at him from the doorway, offering the kind gift of some fresh Heiwa-leaf tea. Ari asked “Father, how many guests should I prepare for dinner tonight?” Geno smiled at her and teased, “My dear Ari… I have a feeling… many new souls may be among us in a few days. Please prepare an extra… table.” 

Ari giggled, knowingly, “As you wish, Father Geno. Every soul shall be nourished here.”

A few days hence, Tumult’s ship returned triumphantly. Geno, Roger and Ari met them at the docks in grand celebration. Laughter filled the air as hugs were shared and stories were exchanged. Tumult’s fiancé Soreth, limping slightly, began to lead a small group of rescued Sirenian children and matriarch off the ship. 

Eight of the giggling children were climbing all over Sacris’ shiny armor, as he tried to disembark. Sacris stopped, covered in a pile of happy kids, and stared stoically at Geno. Geno burst into laughter. Sacris … almost smiled. 

The children gazed up at the majestic levitating city far above them, and gasped in awe. Ari’s heart instantly fell in love with the children, waving excitedly. Ari approached Soreth and bowed. The two elves smiled genuinely at each other. 

“Greetings Soreth, I am Sister Ari. Captain Tumult has told me so much about you! Please, let me tend to your wounds.”

“Greetings Ari, that would be most welcome! Drowned sunken caves are far less hospitable than the famed majesty of Sa’nubis!”

Ari giggled cheerfully, “I shall prove it so! You must be hungry as well! To start, do you care for tea?”

Soreth instinctively clutched her beloved bent tin tea cup on her belt loop. She glanced over to Tumult and smiled, salivating in thirst. “A woman after my own heart! You must have read my mind!”

Ari giggled, “Oh… I have not done that yet.” She winked at Geno. “I prefer conversation. Shall we?”

Ari took Soreth by the arm, chatting, and guided her towards the gryphon ride up to Sa’nubis.

Tumult embraced Geno warmly. Geno announced. “I have a vision for a grand fleet that could do much good in this world.” Geno glanced down at Roger Wrenchratchet. “Do you think you might be interested in putting your talents to work, building it?

The gnome stroked his white beard mischievously. “You know… I’ve been needing a challenge, let’s get to work!”

Geno smiled at the gnome, and returned his eyes to Tumult. He spoke sincerely, “A new fleet would require a captain to command it.” Geno glanced at the ship Tumult just returned upon. “This new ship suits you. I wish to offer it to you as a wedding gift. What shall you call it?”

Tumult considered. “She shall be called, The Tempest Chaser.” Geno smiled, “Perfect. I foresee El Shaddai calling us to chase many adventures in the years to come.” Geno rested his palm upon Tumult’s shoulder. “In my heart, I feel… you belong in this life.” 

Tumult smiled, agreeing. “As do I, … Father.” 

Geno beamed. “Please, come and join us for the welcome feast!” Geno winked and took flight towards the floating city above. 

Tumult’s old friend, the feline navigator Kivuli, pounced down from the ship's crow’s nest to the dock next to Tumult. He cleaned his white fangs passively with his favorite dagger, resheathing it with his tail. 

Kivuli’s kind eyes settled upon his old apprentice. “I see you found your way through the dark, after all, old friend.”

Tumult smiled and embraced the feline. “I had… good guides.” He paused, meaningfully. “Tell me, how did you survive?” Tumult wondered.

“It seems you are not the only result of miracle. We have our new Sirenian friends to thank for much.” He gestured his paw up towards the Sirenian children and matriarch flying up towards the city.

Tumult agreed. “We indeed have much to be thankful for. Tell me, I am assembling a new fleet for Sa’nubis. I could use an expert navigator to teach my new recruits… would you be willing?”

The feline itched his whiskers humorously, making a silly face, “Being that and I am out of a job, and my previous employer believes me dead, … gladly! Besides, somebody’s got to keep you in trouble.” He purred.

Tumult joined the laughter. Then met his friends' eyes warmly. “...And… I need a best man…”

Kivuli rested his paw upon his friend's shoulder sincerely. “I would be honored.”

The weeks of preparation for Tumult and Soreth’s marriage passed with blissful haste. Through the endless hours of wedding collaboration and preparation, Ari and Soreth had become steadfast friends. The wedding day had finally arrived.

As Ari entered the bridal preparation room she let out a gasp of awe seeing Soreth in gorgeous full gown. “You look radiant in white, love!”

Soreth admitted. “It is a blessing to be in a place where sand and salt water don’t mire the fabric! Keeping a garment white in Brigand’s Bay is more rare than finding an honest pirate!”

Ari giggled, “You speak the truth! Yet somehow… you found one.”

Soreth pondered. “To be honest, he first found me. I was but a child. Cornered in darkness by those who would have done me harm. A young human boy stepped between me and them. He would let no harm come to me. He was nearly beaten to death, as he pleaded for me to run home to safety. I returned with my mother and father, nearly too late. I wish I had possessed the powers of healing, as you do Ari. The best I could do was warm his heart, as my mother’s tea and care healed us both. He protects me to this day. With him, I feel safe.”

“That is a rare blessing…” Lost in memory, Ari absently touched the long scar on her neck.

Soreth noticed in shock,  ”Ari, that scar, dear El Shaddai, what happened!?”

Ari snapped back into the moment, and wiped a tear from her face. “I once felt safe with someone. Someone I trusted. I was… mistaken.”

“Oh Ari!...” Soreth embraced Ari, tearing up.

Ari recomposed herself, and covered her scar with her high neckline dress. “Ah, but mine is a story for another time. This is a day of joy. This is your day. Let us prepare you for it!”

Tumult gazed into the mirror of the groom’s preparation room. He heard Kivuli growling, adjusting his cufflinks with his claws. Tumult felt an intimidating presence enter the room. He turned, and gazed up at Sacris. Sacris’ eyes pierced Tumult’s. Sacris inhaled, collecting his thoughts. “I had much reason to suspect the worst of you. I have never known a pirate who cared for anything but himself.”

Tumult nodded. “I understand.”

“Yet… in the voyage we shared, I saw evidence of a man of honor, willing to give his life for the ones he loved. There is no greater love than that.” 

Tumult smiled. “A wise Lux once told me, ‘Faith is the evidence of things unseen’.”

For the first time in Tumult’s life, he saw Sacris smile. The towering templar murmured. “Perhaps we should both listen to him more.”

In that moment, two honorable souls… found peace.

Downstairs, Soreth’s mother fidgeted with the beautiful dessert table’s decorations nervously. Her eyes widened in terror, gasping “We forgot the wedding cake knife!”

Kivuli slid down from the rafters, hanging upside down by his tail, startling her. He smiled, offering his favorite dagger. “Perhaps, this may help?” She calmed, thanking him with a relieved smile, and pet him behind the ears. He purred in satisfaction. 

The wedding music began in the beautiful memorial garden, and guests assembled with joyful anticipation. Trying to find seats for his large green family, Fen nearly accidently sat on Roger, whom he did not see. The row erupted in playful laughter, especially the gnome.

Father Geno led Tumult and his groomsmen to their side of the sun-kissed altar. A hush came over the crowd. The music shifted slightly, playing a song Soreth had come to love deeply, Amaris’ favorite hymn. Ari led the beautiful bridesmaids down the aisle, until the music crescendoed. Tumult’s heart nearly stopped as he saw the overwhelming beauty of his bride. Soreth’s smile shone brighter than the sun, as it poured pure love into Tumult's heart. 

Her proud father Ver’then escorted her, then lovingly placed her delicate hand into Tumult’s scarred palm. “Thank you, sir.” Tumult whispered, bowing respectfully. “Son… you are welcome.” The patriarch winked with warm approval at his new son in law.

The bride and groom turned to Father Geno, and savored every word of the impassioned truths of scripture he spoke. It felt as if a chorus of wisdom wafted through the air, nourishing every soul. In the sight of El Shaddai, Tumult swore a holy oath of eternal selfless love to Soreth, and she did the same to him. 

Soreth lovingly manifested the arcane, her hand igniting in a soft flame. The couple merged two lit candles into one larger, symbolizing their eternal unity. As the ceremony came to its finale, Geno announced the couple, and whispered those beautiful words, “You may kiss the bride.” 

Tumult lifted her veil and their lips touched with infinite tenderness. In a voice soft enough for only Soreth and Geno to hear, Tumult whispered “My light.” He kissed her nose sweetly and whispered, “My life.” He kissed her forehead with divine affection and whispered, “My love.”

Geno’s breath caught in his chest. He freed a tearful smile that had been locked away in his heart. He closed his eyes, feeling the presence of the deepest of love. 

The guests erupted in exuberant cheers as the bride and groom strode back down the aisle. 

The grand wedding reception laughed and feasted joyfully through the afternoon, until the warm sunset began to kiss the edge of the floating city. 

Tumult and Ari saw Geno, sitting in the memorial garden. He had been praying individually with each soul trickling over from the reception, who sought his blessing and wisdom. Each one of the dozens would conclude with a deep hug of gratitude, and from their heart say, “El Shaddai bless you, Father.”

The final recipient offered their thanks and departed. He closed his eyes and considered the multitudes of souls these past years that had made pilgrimage to his new city Sa’nubis seeking him, to learn the ways of El Shaddai. Tumult and Ari approached Geno. Ari noticed, “You truly have become… the Father of Many.”

Geno smiled, realizing the prophecy was fulfilled. He stood and embraced them both. They gazed out at the beautiful sunset. Geno wondered, “What do you see, in the future ahead?”

Ari’s soft voice considered the truth of scripture, and the infinite complexity of destiny. She exhaled peacefully, “I see … brightness ahead.”

Geno smiled into her deep eyes. He glanced at Tumult. 

Tumult gazed down at the new shipyard being built below, and the vast expanse of the ocean on the horizon.

“I see… adventure ahead!” He bravely declared.

Ari glanced at Father Geno and wondered, “What do you see?”

He pressed his palm to Amaris’ golden locket on his chest. He slowly spoke. “I see… hope.”

Tumult marveled at the wise Lux. “Still, … after everything you’ve been through?”

Geno gazed up into the heavens and noticed a single cloud painted pink by the beautiful sunset.

A warm tear of love caressed his cheek. He smiled in perfect peace. 

“Still.”

MEET CHARACTERS FEATURED IN THIS STORY...

FACE THE MONSTERS OF YOUR PAST...

BECOME THE HERO YOU WERE BORN TO BE

BRINGING HOPE TO SHATTERED KINGDOMS

LOOKING FOR A WILD NEW ADVENTURE?