B4 Chapter 34: Salute the Sun + Announcement

B4 Chapter 34: Salute the Sun

Marcus reached out to grab another rocky outcropping overhead, hauling himself up the mountain's jagged surface. His breaths came in short, quick gasps, his clothes long since soaked through with sweat. It was a sensation he was unfortunately quite familiar with by this point. Enough to have packed some spares and a few basic cleaning spells in his spellbook.

"L-lord Marcus..."

Abel called down from above, voice echoing between the rocks. The boy sat astride his mount a hundred feet higher on the mountain. The damn horse whickered softly as though laughing, looking all too pleased with itself.

Marcus raised a hand and cut him off. "I'm... fine. Just... a little winded is all."

The boy closed his mouth and nodded silently. Beneath him, his mount whickered softly as though chuckling at his predicament. Marcus just glared.

They had been traveling for a few days now, and Marcus had begun to suspect that Apollo was playing a prank on him with this latest mission. The idea of a group of dwarves living above ground was strange enough, especially after meeting their subterranean counterparts. But them worshipping the sun as well? It all just seemed a bit too convenient.

While he wasn't stupid enough to voice the suspicion, he certainly did think it. Though if there was even a chance it was true, then their story would be a fascinating one to hear.

Either way, he was Apollo's chosen, and as such he had occasional responsibilities to uphold. The past year had seen him stop in on a number of religious zealots whose worship had been vaguely sun- or art-related. Most of them were small groups of crazies who would parade about naked to "take in the sun's glory" or, better yet, attempt to blind themselves by staring at the flaming orb for as long as possible. Which honestly made Marcus feel as though converting them was doing a public service. Even if that "conversion" was more akin to nudging their crazed beliefs in a just slightly different direction than before.

Such conversions always came with a reward, a carrot to prod him along. He could now call on Apollo's power more actively as though he had the skills of a [Priest] or [Mage], albeit in limited fashion. It had made convincing the crazies much easier, seeing that he could perform small miracles. Though he was quite convincing even without such aid.

It was exactly those powers that had gotten him in his current predicament. Seeing the nearly vertical cliff face above them, Marcus suggested that they dismount and leave Gerald behind for this last stretch of their journey. However, he'd barely made it off the horse's back before it bounded impossibly up the wall, taking Abel with him. Apparently, the Chosen of Poseidon was more capable than he'd given him credit for.

Abel had offered to send the horse back down for Marcus. But his pride wouldn't allow it.

He sighed and sent up a small prayer. A soft orange flame sprouted above him and quickly intensified into a blinding white inferno. The flames morphed, taking on the form of a resplendent swan larger than Marcus himself.

The creature dipped its long neck and picked up Marcus by his shirt. He felt its warmth dry his sweat as it beat two massive wings, shooting skyward toward Abel and his horse.

Marcus landed lightly beside them and patted himself down. The swan bowed slightly before shooting skyward and vanishing, the rest of the world seeming dimmer in its absence. Abel's mouth hung open in awe, but the horse was doing its best to look unimpressed. Which was to say, it was impressed. He'd become strangely adept at reading equine facial expressions as of late.

"Right," he straightened his hat. "Shall we continue moving?"

Abel nodded enthusiastically.

They began moving faster, Abel astride his horse while Marcus leveraged [Mythchaser] on the more level terrain. Running, he was able to keep up with the horse over short distances, but climbing was apparently a different matter. Thankfully, it didn't take much longer to reach their destination.

Marcus crested one final rise and found himself nearly blinded. He reflexively raised one hand in front of his eyes, squinting until they adjusted to the sight before him.

A small town sat nestled in the craggy mountain faces, hidden from view by the stone in every direction. A series of small buildings climbed the cliffs in a manner that Marcus had commonly seen in coastal towns. Only, rather than slate gray, these buildings were universally made of a translucent orange and white crystal that reflected the sunlight with dazzling intensity. Their graceful curves and flared points reminded him oddly of elven architecture. Together with the light, it made it almost look like the entire mountainside was on fire.

He heard Abel gasp beside him. "Lord Marcus... It's beautiful."

"Indeed it is," he agreed. The place would've been a major attraction if it were located within the empire itself. The fact that it wasn't spoke to the secrecy of the squat figures milling about the cliffs. Though the dedication to the fire and sunlight theme didn't exactly give him hope for the reasonableness of the place's inhabitants. "Let us observe for a moment before approaching. If we've been noticed, then surely they will send representatives in our direction. If not, then, well, better to know before stumbling headlong into such a situation."

As if on cue, he saw a few of the people below point in their direction. Marcus stayed where he was, his posture open and friendly even as he kept a transcribed shield spell up one sleeve. He used [Illusory Domain] to make himself glow with holy power and light a bit more, mostly for theatrical effect. Such things went a long way with groups such as this.

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A small group began heading in their direction. The specks resolved into a collection of white-cloaked figures, each one carrying a crystalline blade at their hip and wearing a hood over their head. The group stopped a few dozen feet away from them. Then, the lead dwarf abruptly fell to his knees, prostrating himself before Marcus. "Hail, prophet! Hail, child of the great eternal flame!"

The sun reflecting off his bald head nearly blinded Marcus anew. But he didn't skip a beat. He bowed in greeting to avert his eyes. "Well met, worshipper! It seems my presence is not unexpected."

The bald dwarf raised his head, eyes glittering. Angry red blotches and puckered scars covered his entire face. "Indeed, prophet! We saw the sign that heralded your approach. The ascent of the twin sun, the answer to our prayers! It is unmistakable! Has the great flaming orb truly deemed us worthy to receive her aid?"

Marcus had to stifle a groan. He'd really been hoping for a less insane group this time, but it was too much to ask for. Hopefully they were just zealots.

It took him a second to realize what in the world the man was talking about. Then he remembered the giant flaming swan that he'd incidentally sent flying up no more than an hour ago. An incidental result, to be sure, but not one that he would waste.

He raised his head and smiled warmly. "Indeed. Your fervent prayers have reached the heavens themselves, and I have been sent to light your way forward."

The lead dwarf returned his forehead to the ground. "You honor us greatly, prophet. Too greatly. It is we that should be of service to you! Come, honor us with your presence in our humble town! With your aid, we may finally overcome the great enemy that seeks to halt our worship!"

"A fine idea." Marcus offered a hand to help the dwarf rise. It was accepted, though his grip had Marcus subtly massaging his hand behind his back when he let go.

The dwarf smiled, then stilled as he looked down. Twin spots of dirt now sullied the knees of his robe. A pained cry drew itself from his lungs. "I am sullied! Eternal flame, forgive me this transgression! I shall atone for my failures!"

The dwarf drew his crystalline blade. Marcus lurched forward, fearing he was about to impale himself. But instead he laid the flat of the blade against his dirty knees. The garment burst into flame where the blade touched, flames greedily consuming the white cloth. The smell of burning flesh filled the air as the dwarf silently closed his eyes.

Marcus decided that was quite enough of that. His hand shot forward, his fingers making a quick circle through the air. The light all around them seemed to intensify as though the sun itself grew brighter. Then, the fire rose from the man's knees, spiraling skyward as it formed into twin swans.

The group of zealots gasped and pointed, some falling to their knees themselves. The lead dwarf's eyes snapped open as he looked upward as well, a mixture of panic, awe, and rage written plain across his face. "What--- what is the meaning of this?!"

Marcus turned [Magnetic Presence] way up and spread his hands in a placating gesture. "Rest easy, honored elder. As I said, I have been sent to light your way forward. And this includes instructing your people regarding the will of the eternal flame---that great and resplendent chariot in the sky. Our patron has no desire to see harm come to her worshippers. Why else would I be sent to aid you?"

Thankfully, no one saw through the rather grandiose illusion. Nor did the elder seem to notice the wetness of his knees, courtesy of a thin stream of water shot from Gerald's mouth. The salt in that water probably stung something fierce, but the dwarf hadn't seemed to mind burning alive, so...

The rest of the dwarves began to mutter amongst themselves. Marcus could feel himself winning them over already. The elder fell to his knees once more. "Forgive this prideful servant, prophet! For I have failed once again. I have assumed much and merely served to expose my own ignorance!"

Marcus waved him off, already getting a little tired of all the prostrations. "You are forgiven. Now. Let us take our conversation elsewhere. I have much to teach you."

With that, they began to descend toward the sparkling city. Marcus began his usual routine of convincing the crazies that their god---the sun itself, apparently---was an aspect of a greater god, Apollo. He adapted a few arguments on the fly, pushing and pulling back as he felt resistance to some of the ideas he put forth.

It was clear that Apollo had also laid some groundwork for his presence here, which wasn’t uncommon. The god had mentioned once that he took Marcus’s visits as an opportunity to have “a nice chat” with whatever gods the cultists actually worshipped. Which was… concerning. But none of his business.

By the time they reached their destination, he already had half the group tentatively praising Apollo. They still only cared about the sun, but having Apollo be the guy who hauled the sun through the air certainly put him in high regard. Even if they did seem to view him as its steward more than anything else for now. Still, it was progress.

The large gathering hall they found themselves in shone even more brightly than the outside. Every wall shone brightly with sunlight, giving Marcus no reprieve from its glare wherever he looked. Even the ceiling itself was formed of one giant crystal, which seemed to magnify the sun even more intensely than the rest. It focused its light on a dais below, which burned with a roaring flame.

"Truly, the eternal flame has blessed us greatly this day." The elder raised his hands reverently. "We are unworthy. We had prepared a great purification of our people, thinking the sun was displeased with us and our worship. Yet now..."

Marcus tilted his head. "You did mention something about that. Some great enemy?"

The entire group scowled darkly. The elder looked as though he was about to spit, but thought better of it. "Indeed. Our sunstone, the lifeblood of our connection to the great flame, is being stolen from beneath our very noses. The forces of darkness have seen the threat we pose and seek to weaken us in our devotion! They seek to starve us of our faith and our sustenance, but we shall not falter!"

"It is the orcs, I'm certain of it," one of the dwarves hissed. "They are borne of darkness itself, driving our people away from the sun's glory. But we shall prevail!"

"Indeed!"

"None can escape the eternal flame's glory!"

Marcus frowned. Orcs? That didn't sound right in the slightest. If orcs were about, he would expect this entire town to be slaughtered and overrun, not the victims of petty theft. They weren't exactly known for subtlety or restraint. Besides, they hadn't been seen since the mind plague tore through their numbers a year ago.

It was probably the ramblings of insane people, simply ascribing their woes to whatever target was most convenient. Still, if it was orcs...

"...Ah. This must be yet another reason why I was sent." He grinned broadly. "To deliver you, faithful worshippers, from your tribulations."

"Truly?" The elder's eyes widened.

"Of course. Now please, tell me of your woes."

Apollo would appreciate him taking care of his new worshippers. And besides, if this truly was the work of orcs, then Tiberius would also want to know about it. And he'd likely be willing to pay a premium for the information.