Origin ARS 5 (21 page)

It had taken over three hours due to the
wreckage and the need to hide on occasion, but Scott managed to
reach his destination. It was a building that looked like a church
but with a statue of Origin in the courtyard. She had her arms
outstretched and wore a crown of flowers. Her well-sculpted face
brought a smile to his. He missed her, and the statue was an
excellent likeness.

Reminiscence of currently denied love aside,
his destination was not a house like he had originally thought. It
was a civilian defense shelter beneath the church. The guards
posted outside stopped him as he drew closer to his goal.

"Sorry, sir. We're full."

"I'm not here to stay. I'm here to deliver
something." said Scott.

"A delivery? Here? In this?" asked the guard
surprised.

"Is it a pizza, captain? I could do with a
slice." asked one of the men snidely, though there was also a
slightly hopeful tone in his voice. Several of the men laughed,
though the one manning the heavy gun didn't take his eyes off Scott
while doing so.

"Aye, me too! Is there sausage on it?" asked
one of the other men.

The captain shook his head then granted Scott
a long suffering look. He had been with these men a little too long
tonight. "Forgive my men. These little jokes keep their spirits
up."

"It's fine, but I really do need to go
inside." said Scott.

The captain shook his head. "Like I said,
we're full up. Too many people in one place could draw those things
down on us. We can handle a few of them at a time, but we aren't
the army. We're not equipped for large scale battles."

Uncertain what else to do, Scott pulled out
the letter that he had received and showed it to the guard. The
man's eyes widened, and then they slowly narrowed. "I see. So, the
boy didn't make it?"

Scott shook his head. "No, he was killed
before I could get to him, though I destroyed the eldritch armor
knights that took his life."

"Ah, good! Well, there's a few priests of
Origin downstairs. Can't turn away pregnant women, or children
whether living or dead according to the head priest's order. You
can take the poor lad down there and discuss things with the head
priest." said the shelter captain.

Down into the earth he went, the body of the
small boy wrapped in his arms. The previously laughing men were
silenced by their captain. There was no joy in this moment, and
what Scott bore was certainly not a pizza. Though, had anyone taken
a good look inside the sack after the way that it had been dragged
through the streets one might wonder at the similarities that the
contents held in relation to pizza toppings.

After clearing the stairs he walked down a
short corridor and moved past another set of guards. They had him
wait a moment as they opened a metal blast door and turned off the
shield that helped to secure it. Through the door, Scott was met
with the sounds and scents of unwashed humanity. Though, some of
the unwashed masses were not exactly human.

In the far back there was a small alcove
where robed men congregated around a table. They viewed a large
crystalline sphere with rapt attention and hawkish eyes.

"Pieter, I tell you that the army is
overmatched this time." said one of the men as Scott
approached.

"Dovak, do you see the placement of the
second battalion? They are clearly buying time for something." said
the man named Pieter.

"Aye, see here and here as well? The Blizrum
priests are focusing their powers on the rear guard as well,
instead of the main attack force." said another, unnamed,
priest.

Scott eyed the fourth man, the man with the
fanciest robes. He wore red robes and a large circular shaped gold
medallion that had the appearance of a stylized phoenix within a
triangle. If he had to guess, that man would be the head priest. He
was also the only one who had yet to speak.

It did not take long for the older man, the
head priest, to turn his head. He blinked slowly once, and then
twice more. His eyes widened when he gazed upon Scott then slowly
placed his hand to his mouth. Scott immediately felt an
uncomfortable sensation flow through his body.

The head priest stood up from his chair and
moved toward him, the action causing a minor ruckus among the
younger priests. "What's going on your eminence?"

Snow white and bushy eyebrows pressed
together as he took stock of Scott's face for a moment. He then
turned back to the other priests and said. "Continue your lessons
on the study of war. I must speak with this man alone."

The three younger priests stared slack-jawed
at Scott and then back to the head priest. This was a strange sort
of event to have happen during an invasion!

The head priest gestured politely for Scott
to follow him. He hurried after, curiosity evident upon his face.
What had spooked the older man? He had taken a single look at his
face and suddenly become quite animated. In the far alcove, behind
a metal door, Scott and the head priest began to speak
earnestly.

"My apologies for not entertaining you
better, brother." The older man extended his arm to Scott. A sudden
urge possessed the blue haired man. Scott reached out and clasped
the older man's forearm. The older man clasped Scott's as well. The
priest's eyes lit up slightly when Scott said, "Well met, brother.
My name is Scott."

The older man visibly relaxed after hearing
what Scott's mind now referenced as a customary greeting among kin,
more specifically the head priest was Lunarii himself. In many ways
it had been like when he had first learned to fight or to use his
magic. He had simply known a few things via spiritual download and
the rest had to be learned. He now knew several customs among his
new race.

"Ah, brother. I am the head priest of this
church. I am known as Heralt." He took a breath then smiled
beatifically. "Long has it been since I have seen a brother of the
twilight. Tell me, what brings you to this land and this
shelter?"

"I am in this land searching for a means of
improving myself, brother. Sadly, I am in this shelter to bring
this child to his mother." said Scott.

The head priest glanced to the burden in
Scott's arms then inclined his head. "It is always the youngest
among us who suffer most in times of war."

Scott nodded. He was not certain what else to
say on the matter.

"Twilight brother, do you know the name of
this child's mother?" asked the priest.

"No, but his name is Jimothy. Here, have a
look at this." Scott gently laid the boy's body atop a nearby table
then then pulled out the mission briefing.

The priests' bushy eyebrows rose once more.
"Brother... You directly received a prayer request from our great
goddess, Origin?"

"Seems so." said Scott in a non-committal
manner. He received no useful additional information on the subject
and did not want to lie to the man.

The head priest. Closed his eyes then sighed
softly. "Jimothy. I know of only one who lives in this
neighborhood. He is a small boy, quite rambunctious. He is his
mother's heart and her bane."

Scott nodded his head. "I heard him cry out,
but I arrived too late to do anything but avenge his death."

"That is a sad tale told many times tonight
brother. At least this time there is a happy ending." said the
elder.

Normally, such a statement would seem
bizarre. In this instance, it was the truth. The head priest was
one of the few people in the city capable of greater resurrection.
Scott helped the elder to prepare the body of the boy. Neither man
wanted to gaze long upon the corpse, nor the ruination caused by
the monsters that stomped through the streets.

The elder began to make large sweeping
gestures with his hands. He whispered soft words that Scott could
barely hear, but made the various pieces of the body on the table
begin to shimmer and shake. Soon they appeared to melt into a
puddle. It was both immanently fascinating and entirely disgusting
to witness.

Where once there had been several dozen
chunks of unfortunate Jimothy, there was now a rapidly congealing
puddle of Jimothy goo. More words of power were spoken. The goo
flowed together into a singular mound and then began to spread
outward once more.

Scott watched as the head priest commanded
the goo to take on the form of the boy that it had once been. The
process stopped there for a time and the priest stepped back,
exhausted.

"Now we must wait a short time, brother. The
genetic structure of the boy must settle or he will mutate
uncontrollably. Such things can be fixed, but not easily."

Scott nodded as though he had understood
that. "So, this is greater resurrection?"

"Yes, the second most difficult type of
resurrection, and the most advanced that the gods have taught us to
use directly. Only the prayer of total awakening takes more power,
and it might even cost the life of the one who prays for it."

Several minutes passed in polite conversation
while the elder rested. He consumed a brightly glowing vial of
fluorescent blue liquid then sighed. "The Storm Tyrant has made a
mess of things with his grand ambitions."

"Oh?" asked Scott. He knew nothing of the
man's ambitions, but would certainly like to know more.

"Yes, how there can be such bitterness in the
heart of one so young is beyond me. It is not like he was destined
to be the Valkovian emperor. He was the youngest of twelve." said
the priest with a sigh.

"Thunder Reign..." mumbled Scott
purposefully. He spoke the word as though he considered something,
but what he was really attempting to do was coax the old man into
explaining what Thunder Reign actually was.

"Oh yes, Thunder Reign indeed. Without that
divine beast summons he would not be a true threat to the crown.
I'm still not certain how a human, one who had never been trained
as a summoner to my knowledge, could summon a beast of that
magnitude without killing himself."

Scott filed that tidbit of knowledge away. He
had wondered about the creature he occasionally saw in the flash of
lightning. It was a great bird much like the ancient Quetzalcoatl
from meso-american mythology and lore. The great thunder bird that
controlled lightning and storms in the minds and hearts of the
ancient peoples of South America.

He still did not understand how lightning
could blow up a stone building, but he had decided not to question
it too closely. There was probably some sort of magical ability in
that lightning strike that caused explosions.

They spoke of lighter things after that for a
time. The old priest asked a few questions about Scott's travels.
Scott answered them as best he could. Eventually, the gelatinous
goo that had once been Jimothy was ready for the next step.

"You who have fallen to the darkness both
battered and torn, return thy form to that of man that your loved
ones may no longer mourn." sang out the priest in a well-formed
rhyme.

Scott had not heard such a succinct rhyme for
a spell before. He did not use incantations, and had only heard a
few spells that were actually cast via such a method. Once or twice
Rhea had utilized a blade singer style song in a fight, but it had
largely been unnecessary. There had also been an occasional
magic-user in a town that he had heard in passing when they were
wandering through the casual server.

Gelatin Jimothy shimmered and shook briefly
as waves of mystical energy radiated throughout his body. With each
pulse of power the corpse took on a form that was more solid and
distinct. Several minutes passed as Jimothy hardened back into a
little boy, and it was another few minutes before the priest was
satisfied that the boy was as solid on the inside as the
outside.

Bushy white eyebrows pressed together in
consideration while the elder considered the next step. "He seems
to have come this far well-enough. There is no hint of a curse, at
least no curse at a level that would cause problems."

Another tidbit of information was filed away
inside Scott's mind. There were curses that would interfere with
resurrection. He had not been happy to know such a thing was
possible, but he was glad to have been granted a warning about
it.

Gnarled old hands waved over the body as
Heralt cleansed the boy of any lingering negative status effects.
Once that process was completed he sang out a short lyrical verse
in a language Scott did not understand. The corpse on the table
began to emit a radiant light, soon a white mist similar to a
glowing fog suffused the area around the body.

As the priest chanted the light intensified
but the mist diminished. Not long after it had appeared, the mist
was gone. The light died away shortly after that.

Heralt sighed, exhaustion evident on his
features. "It is done. The child will need to rest for at least a
full day before he can undergo further healing."

He turned to Scott. "We should inform his
mother."

Scott glanced down at the body and noticed
that the color had returned to the body, and though hard to see
Jimothy's chest did rise and fall in a shallow manner. It would be
easy to miss if he did not look carefully.

"I'm curious about something, brother." said
Scott.

"Yes, brother?"

"Why use greater resurrection when you could
have simply brought him back in a new body?" asked Scott.

The elder nodded. "Fair question. You are not
from this city so you do not know. The city defense shield
interferes with simple restoration as a means of interrupting the
ability of foreign powers to resurrect within the city walls. The
boy would have randomly been restored at one of the holy places
outside of the city. Those places are crawling with monsters."

"I see, and the body was too damaged to use
lesser resurrection." said Scott thoughtfully.