Page 77 of Prisoner of Darkness and Dreams
“It’s true that gods are immortal,” Diomi muses. “But I suspect you can be immortal without becoming a god.” He sees the questions on our faces and tries to clarify. “What is immortality? When it comes to the gods, we say they cannot be harmed and they cannot die because most mortals—fae, human, or dryad—couldn’t harm or kill a god no matter how hard they tried. Stories of that happening barely exist. But therearelegends of gods harmingeach other.”
“And let’s say you were able to become invincible,” another dryad pipes up. “You’re almost impossible to kill or maim, but you have no divine nature, nor do you ascend to the celestial realm. Some would say you’re immortal then, butnota god.”
I blink, trying to follow their lines of argument. This is all theoretical, and I have a feeling the dryads will sit discussing semantics and hypotheticals all day if we let them.
“Why don’t we pretend that’s what Caledon is aiming for?” I say, cutting off more theorizing. “He wants to become unkillable, and he wants to never die. How would he go about doing that?”
“He would need a celestial flame that can never go out,” Inas says, and the way the other dryads look at her, this seems to be a reference. “That would grant him eternal life.”
“And that’s possible?” Leon asks.
“According to our histories, that’s what Ethira did before he ascended.”
I shake my head. We’re back to Ethira again. We’re going in circles.
“Yes, buthow?” I demand, unable to hide the frustration in my voice.
“Your Highness, what is the symbol of the Temple of Ethira?” Diomi asks.
“A scythe,” I answer.
“And is a scythe theonlysymbol associated with that god?”
“No,” I say, thinking of the mosaic in the high temple. “He also carries a bow and arrow.”
“You’re forgetting the cup and the seal,” Tira points out. Her knowledge of religion is far deeper than mine, thanks to learning it in school. “They make up the four tokens of Ethira. In the stories, he uses them all the time before he becomes a god on his travels across the three nations. That’s how he became the patron god of travelers.”
“There are some points where the Temple’s teachings and our histories differ,” Diomi says. “From what Etusca tells me, the Temple teaches that Ethira was simply gifted his godhood as a reward for the sacrifice and discipline he showed through his feats. But our histories tell a version where the tokens are directly involved. Individually, the objects were supposedly blessed by the gods during his mortal lifetime.” He looks to Tira. “Does the Temple tell those stories?”
“Yes,” she says. “There’s a legend that Classitus was impressed by Ethira’s skills as a warrior, so he blessed his bow and arrows so they were stronger and reached farther than any others. And when Ethira protected fellow travelers from thieves and bandits, Winnivus blessed his seal with the gift of safety so he would always be protected while traveling with it.”
Diomi nods. “There are stories like that for each of the tokens—or artifacts, as we call them—explaining how they came by their magic. I don’t know if they are all true, but we do know that once Ethira became strong and powerful, he was able to combine them, and it was their magic and divine blessing together that helped him transform from man to god.
“However, in these accounts the tokens are so powerful that an ordinary person wouldn’t be able to survive using all four at once. It was only Ethira’s great strength of body and spirit—his extraordinary natural gifts—that allowed him to combine the artifacts without dying.”
“You think Caledon wants to use these artifacts?” I ask.
“It would certainly be a starting point if he believes in the legends,” Inas shrugs.
I do think Caledon believes it, and that he sees himself as following in Ethira’s footsteps. My mind whirrs, considering how Caledon might have taken the Ethirans’ original legends and obscured the true significance of the tokens from the Temple’s teachings, knowing one day he planned to seek them out himself.
“That’s why he wanted to know how I’d become so powerful,” I say to Leon as it slots together. “Why he was searching for the source of celestial power mentioned in the prophecy. He needs enough strength to survive using the artifacts.” I look up at Diomi, eyes wide. “How many do you think he already has?”
“That, I’m afraid, is well beyond our knowledge,” he says.
“The artifacts are either lost to time or being kept by powerful people,” Letrium adds.
Leon doesn’t move, but I get a sense that what Letrium’s just said has given him an idea. Our eyes meet, and I know that whatever it is, we’ll discuss it later.
“Wherever the artifacts are,” I say, “it sounds like what Caledon wants to do is actually possible—and if he can make himself invincible, he might as well be a god for how hard it will be to stop him from doing whatever else he wants.”
The dryads say nothing, and I feel a twinge of frustration. Aren’t they worried about this? Don’t they care that a maniac might get access to unmatched levels of power? I try to find the words that will make them see the threat like I do.
“I know you have objections to the way we live in Trova and Filusia,” I say softly. “Any violence is too high a price to pay in your opinion. And I respect that. But believemewhen I tell you that Caledon is the worst of us—the opposite of everything you stand for. It isn’t just that he wants to be like a god—it’s that he thinks hedeservesthe immortality and adulation of a god. If he undergoes the ritual, he’s not going to stop there. Life has no value to him beyond his own, and he won’t rest until he has everyone in Trova bowing to him. He’ll come for Filusia, and Agathyrewill be next, until everyone in Tiearland is dead or has submitted to him.”
“You’re trying to scare us,” Letrium says, frowning.
“Yes, because youshouldbe scared. That’s what she’s trying to get you to understand,” Mal says, speaking up in frustration. He stands, glaring around at the dryads. “You know, it’s all very well thinking you’re too good to fight down in the dirt with the rest of us, but doing nothing doesn’t keep your hands clean either. If you stand by and let a war happen that could’ve been avoided, you might as well have killed Caledon’s victims yourself. Because there will be thousands upon thousands of them, you can guarantee it.”
