Connections through Time

by Shall-Iin

Garion is the last survivor of his world. Charged to live until peace reigns. He's watched eons pass, and now longs for the Eternal Slumber. But only 1 thing can grant that desire. An object he gave up long ago, and which has now left this world: Once the

2. Chap 2

Here's another story idea I couldn't get out of my head.

This story is a xover of David Eddings works of Belgariad/Mallorean and Elenium/Tamuli series. I love those books. I've read the 5 from belgariad more then 30x each, and the mallorean at least dozen times. And the Elenium/Tamuli books I've likely read nearly a dozen times each.

There are a lot of similarities between the two series, and it always struck me in the back of my mind that Eddings did it on purpose to possibly write a future novel connecting the two series.

Since in the Elenium/Tamuli world I was unable to find the proper name for the God who watches over the Alcione knights, I've decided to name him myself. If any one knows the correct name, feel free to correct me, and I will fix it in the story. Also, I would need other names and personalities for the Styric Gods. There are 1000 of them, but only 6 or 7 are ever really named or described. So Naslin is who I've made for the Alcione knights.

Just a recap: Pandions ask for Aphrael, Genidians ask for Hanka, Cyrinnics ask Romalic, and here, Alciones ask for Naslin. When I say ask, I mean pray/cast spells. Since in the E/T world, magic is done by the caster using a prayer spell to ask the gods to do something for them. Which words they use and which gestures are important as they have to be framed in a ceertain manner for the Gods to consider doing what is asked of them. Unlike in B/M where the power is inside the person and they just need to have the believe that what they want to happen will happen. Then they pull in their Will(power) and so the Word(anything, no special words, just an aural cue to release the gathered Will) Gestures not needed, but done for extra effect on witnesses.

Here is Chapter 2 of this story.

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Garion stared at the knights after asking his question, only a small portion of his mind keeping track of the two men he held at sword point. The knights were giving off a rather pecular sound, similar to those who could use The Will, but slightly different. They had a secondary presence around themselves, and different from each other. The large, bearded man reminded him sharply of Barak. The other knight also reminded him of someone, but he couldn't place it. It wasn't really anyone in particular, but he was a lot like a mix of the Algars and the Perivor knights.

A few moments passed in silence while the four men stared at him, and he eventually tired of the quiet. "Well, someone want to answer my question?" he asked again, allowing a little rumbling of power to fill his voice.

The knights continued to look at him, though they exchanged a long glance. The two finally bowed to him, and the blonde spoke.

"Greetings, My Lord. I am Sir Tynian of Deira. This is Sir Ulath of Thalosia. We are but humble knights and old friends who came together in this forest for the sport of the hunt. These men attacked us for seemingly no reason of which we are aware."

Garion blinked and looked at the almost prostate knights. "Why are you doing that?" he asked, confused by their near religous fervor.

Ulath and Tynian exchange another glance, one Garion took to question his own intelligence. "Though we have not met them all, my Lord, we are well aware that only the Gods of Styricum are the only ones who possess the pwoer to alter their forms in the manner you have. Though we have not met all of your bretheren, we are acquainted to several of your family, most notably Aphreal, Hanka, Nalsin, Septras and Romalic. Er, if it's not too presumptuous, may we ask your name, oh Lord?"

Garion chuckled a bit, but his attention was called back to the two men. At the knight's word, the wounded man had started and drawn a dagger. He'd surged to his feet and rushed to attack Garion from behind. Without even sparing the man a glance, Garion slahed twice with his sword.

His first stroke sliced through the man's wrist, leaving a stump. The second was mid chest high and near deep enough to cut the man in two. His sharp blade sliced through bone as easily as flesh, and he moved so quickly and cleanly that the man continued his charge for another two paces before a puzzled expression came to his face. He glanced at his hand and his mouth formed an 'O' of surprise to see his hand-still holding the dagger- fall to the dirt. Then the top portion of his body, from sternum up, flopped back, blood splurting int other air. For a moment, his corpse remained standing, a rather macabre sight to all. His upper torso was hanging by the skin down towards the ground, and the man's head was pressed into his posterior. A slight breeze passed through the clearing, and the body collapsed in on itself.

Garion ignored the shocked look of the knights and turned to the second man, who was staring at him in fear. "Now, Answer my question. Who are you, and why did you attack these knights?"

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Tynian fought to retain his last meal at the casual way the God had killed the man. He'd never seen a god using a blade, except Cyrgon, and he'd never seen a blow like the one this God had delivered. Not with a simple saber, anyway. Usually, a blow that could slice a man in two so easily would require the heft and strength of a two-handed blade or an axe. The God's movements had been so swift all he had seen was a blur.

Now, the God's terrible grey eyes had swung to the other man, the one who'd lead the attack on them. Tynian cautiously moved forth, followed silently by Ulath. It was only a dozen steps to close the gap, and then they were within blade's reach of the God. He acknowledged their approach with a sideways nod of his head but remained focus on the prostrate form.

"Answer him, fool." Ulath stated from Tynian's side. His smacked his axe against his palm, then tested the edge with a thumb.

The man swallowed rapidly and rose to his knees. Some of his bravado returned to him. "I am a humble noble acting on the actions of my Lord. I obey his will in all things, and it is his will that the blaphemous soldiers of the corrupt Church be tracked down and killed. He has given orders to his loyal followers to kill all those who follow the false church and the hethen gods of Styricum. He wishes to bring the old Gods, the true Gods, back to their proper place as rulers of this world. He will kill the pagan Gods of Styricum and take his proper place among the Elder Gods. The 7 shall rise again, and the world will be reformed to it's former perfection."

Garion frowned down at the man. He didn't know anything about a Church, or these Styricums, but he did happen to know 7 gods. As far as he knew, they were the only 7 gods. At least, the only ones still alive, he thought. A shudder ran through him as both the scarred and unscarred face of Torak flashed into his mind. "What is Styricum and which Church are you speaking of? The only corrupt Church I know of is the Cult of Belar, and they died out millenia ago in the Cataclysm that reshaped the world."

Ulath and Tynian exchanged another glance as the God spoke, confused by his mention of a Cult and of a Cataclysm reshaping the world. The only time the world had been reshaped as far as they knew was when Aphreal and Sparhawk, with Bheliom's help, raised a cliff to halt the trolls. They did notice the reaction the other man had the mention of this Belar character, as his eyes widdened and he rose to full height on his knees.

"Belar? You know of the great Belar? You ...you are not one of these heathens?" the man asked.

Garion snorted. "Great Belar? Of course I know of Belar, I've met him several times."

Tears sprang from the man's eyes. "I thought never to meet another who had met the True Gods. The Lord claims that no living being except he has met them." The man frowned, studying the person standing before him. "How do I know that this is not a trick? Tell me of the 7."

Garion stared back as the man seemed to regain his backbone. "There aren't really 7. The first was UL, father of the Gods. His sons were Aldur, Mara, Belar, Chaldan, Nedra, Torak, and Issa. Belar was the youngest of the gods and was known as the Bear God. Issa was the Snake God, Nedra the god of money, Chaldan of knightly honor, Mara the Weeping god for his people were slaughtered, and Aldur was the Lone God. Torak was at one time the most handsome of Gods, but do to certain of his actions, he become known as the Maimed God. I have met them all, and learned at the side of Aldur. I have fought Torak, and slayed him. Does that prove to you, that I have met the True Gods of which you speak? After Torak's death, the god Eriond became the God of Angarak, and the other Gods left this world, leaving him alone to watch over all mankind."

Ulath and Tynian exchanged yet more glances as the young man spoke. They wondered at who these gods he was describing were, and if they had indeed once ruled over the world. And if this man had indeed killed one of them. As far as they were aware, Gods couldn't really die. They could fade away when they lost worshippers, as the gods they had met drew power from their followers, but they could not die. Even Azash had not been killed, though it was easier to think of it as that way. Sparhawk and Bheliom had really UNMADE him, not killed him.

"Ah, does that mean you aren't a god?" Tynian asked.

Garion looked back at the knights. "I am no god, simply a man. I have born many titles over my lifetime. To some I was Belgarion, King of Riva, Overlord of the West, Bearer of the Orb of Aldur, Sorcerer, Godslayer, and Child of Light. To a few, I was simply Garion, a farm boy raised by his Aunt Pol." He turned back to the man, who was whimpering in fear. "You have heard those names, haven't you?" he asked.

The man was staring at Garion, his eyes as wide open as they could go. He was crossing himself in a pecular manner, some kind of warding gesture against evil, Garion assumed. "The Lord claimed you would be dead! That not even you will live this long. That you would have perished with your kingdom. How can you be alive?"

Garion laughed. He sheethed his sword and stalked away from the man. "My Will has kept me alive for all this time. It has grown too strong to allow me to die. But that doesn't matter now. Now, I must seek out this 'Lord' of yours and find out how he knows of the Gods. He could not have been alive then. All but me have died. Grandfather, Aunt Pol, Durknik. Ce'Nedra...my beautiful Ce'Nedra. I have been alone in the world for more millenia then I care to count. This Lord might know where I can find the Orb. It was travelling the world, though I don't understand how." He turned back to the knights, studying them thoughtfully. "The two of you stink of it's power. You've been in contact with the Orb, though not recently."

Mika seemed to regather his courage, as he leapt to his feet and drew his sword. He attacked Garion with swift, short strokes of his blade. Though he had a height and reach advantage over the grey-eyed man, Mika was not as fast as Garion, and the Godslayer easily parried and blocked each attack. Though the sword he used was not his hereditary blade that he'd borne for centuries, he had spent a lot of time after giving up his blade to his heir learning to use the more common blades of several styles. He had had centuries of experience fighting with this sword before he'd taken to staying in animal form, and though he had not been in a sword fight in longer then his opponent could easily grasp, he had lost none of his skill. It was in his blood, as much as the ease and power of the Will, and the mark on his palm.

Garion toyed with the man, taking his time and working out long unused muscles. He had spend no more then minutes in his human form in almost 20000 years. He found that he had missed the rush of danger that came when in a battle for your life, though he had no doubt about the outcome of this dual. The man he fought showed some skill and talent, but he was not a warrior. He was a dillitant, someone who had studied the way of the sword as an indolent gesture of his wealth and prestige. He had obviously never been in a fight for his life against a more skilled opponent or against immense odds. By the time he was a mere 20, Garion had already fought in more pitches battles and duals then this person had likely even read about. The first 400 years of Garion's life had been lived from one battle or quest to another. He'd barely had time to realise the passage of time. Only the deaths of his children of old age, and the eventual demise of his beloved Ce'Nedra had marked the years.

And since Ce'Nedra's death, time had held no meaning for him as he sought first to end his life and join her, and then to live his life in isolation, devoid of the pain of human interaction. He'd watched from afar as nations rose and fell, seen the world change due to some strange event. He'd watched seas drain, and mountain ranges rise. He'd seen the crumbling of mountains into plains, and plains turn into vast forests. He'd been shot with arrows, stabbed with all manner of swords and daggers, sliced open by axes and nearly burned alive. And he had lived on, even as his family removed themselves from the world. By his 20th century, only he and Belgarath remained. The world had finally achieved the peace prophecied as Erriond's dominion, and no longer needed the guidance of the Eternal man and the students of Aldur. Polgara, Beldin, BelTira, BelKira, Beldurnik, Poldedra. Names lost to history first as myths, then simply vanished through the passage of eons.

He would have joined them, but his grandfather had taken him aside and told him of one last task he had to perform. He alone, of them all, was to remain and watch over the world and aid Erriond if the time ever came. He'd pleaded with his grandfather, begging to be allowed to join Ce'Nedra and their children in death, but the Eternal Man had been firm and resolute.

"You can not, Belgarion of Riva. It is not yet your time. It is to you, that this last task remains. You are the only one who can do it. Though I have lived nearly 10000 years, you Belgarion are the only one strong enough to perform this duty. I have outlived my purpose, my brother. It is time for you to put aside your childhood, and take up the mantle as the protector and Guardian you were always meant to be."

"But Grandfather, I've done what I supposed to do! I've killed Torak! I've CHOSEN! I've outlived my children and my wife! How can I be the one to perform this? Haven't I done enough? Why can't I go to my rest?"

Belgarath stared at the younger man, his face set in stone. "Because you are the only one with the power to do what needs be done. The only one with the Will to survive the coming times. You are destined, Belgarion, to a life of long isolation before your re-emergence into the world of man. But at the end, only you can do what will need to be done. I don't know what it is, or what you will face in the years to come, but I do know that NONE of us could even survive, let alone the task itself. Haven't you realised yet boy, that you are the strongest of us? That if needed, you could defeat ALL of us in a battle? That all of us, all the children of Aldur and all the Grolims in the world, could not stand up to the might of your Will?

Even without the power of the orb, you were and are a match for the power of Torak. You didn't NEED the Orb's help to defeat him, if you had only believed in your own talent. It's time to grow up. I know it hurts, Garion. You miss your wife. Well, so do I. And I have lost her TWICE, boy. I've only stayed this long because we all discussed it and felt you needed a bit more guidance. But it's time, boy. Today is a special day. It's the day I was born. And it's the day I die. I've come to the end of my beginning, and it's time for me to pass the world into your hands. I've taught you all I can, and now it's up to you.

Garion shook his head as his distraction in old thoughts allowed his opponent to land a normally fatal blow. He gasped and stepped back, allowing his hand to clutch at the deep cut across his abdomen. The man looked pleased and danced back, laughing at his apparent victory.

Garion slowly allowed a wolfish grin to form on his face. He withdrew his hand, but only after wiping the blood clear of the wound. The gash was wide and deep, and allowed everyone to see his organs. Garion reared back and started laughing, even as his Will forced the wound to heal. The attacker and the knights were amazed as they watched the flesh reform and the skin seal itself. He stopped laughed and sheathed the sword, pointing his hand at the man. While he had moved beyond his Aunt's need to gesture, he still occassionally did so for dramatic effect.

"You can not kill me. I am Immortal! I have walked the world for more millenia then your puny mind can comprehend. I have killed a God and annointed his replacement, brought the dead to life, and fixed a hole in the universe. Nothing you can do can kill me." Garion paused, as a wave of sorrow at his own words filled him. "Nothing anyone can do." he repeated to himself quietly.

He shook his head, and sneered at the man. He gathered his Will, noticing the quivering of the knights as he did so. He whispered under his voice, and the man rose into the air. Garion's fingers were outstreched and palm down. He turned his palm over, and the man rotated in the air. He slowly pulled his fingers into a clenched fist, and the man started screaming as he felt his ribs being crushed. Garion kept the pressure on, slowly crushing the man to death with a blank expression on his face.

His expression didn't alter as the bones of the man started ripping through his skin. Blood burst out of the man's body, first from his mouth and nose, then his eyes and ears. Soon it was pouring out of his body from the tears of his flesh. With one last effort, Garion closed his fist and the man's body was crushed flat in midair. His skull shattered inward, forcing the soft tissue to squeeze out. All of his organs and fluids were sent flooding out of his body, leaving his bones and the skin hovering in the air.

Garion waved his hand, and what was left was sent out into the forest, away from the clearing. He watched for a moment, then turned to face the knights.

He frowned at the pale looks on their faces. "You two okay? Maybe that was a little much."

Tynian and Ulath replied by rushing to the nearby shrubery and loosing their meals.

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The assembled gods of Styricum and their council of the Thousand shuddered in fear at the waves of power flowing through the world. Something vast and terrible had just happened, and it was powerful enough to breach the barrier around their meeting place. They could not tell where the pwoer was coming from or it's nature, but it was more powerful than any they had felt since Bheliom and Klael had fought.

A wizened old man stood and address the Gods and Priests. "The power grows ever more intense, my friends. What is it that can be done? Is it a force for good or evil that approaches?"

Aphrael stood and leaned forward, addressing her siblings and family. "There are two forces that approach, Gentle Ganya. One force of evil, hidden and twisted, and a force of good. The evil is hidding, bidding it's time and gathering it's strength. The power we just felt must have been from the other who approaches. Our brother of the Elene Church names the approaching force of good as the Child of Light. When he told me those words, I though immediately of Edaemus. He told me it had a different meaning and did not refer to the Shining Ones. He told me that an old friend of his was returning. We all know that he is the eldest among us. That he is not trully one of the Thousand, but was here even before the Elder Gods. I believe he is one of the Seven, a child of the AllFather."

A muttering broke out among the gathered throng. Little was known about the AllFather and his Children, except that they had been the First gods to exist. The AllFather was the creator of the universe, and the universe was the Mother of the First Gods, known as the Seven. Time and Gods travelled in cycles and Ages. It was believed by the Styric Gods that they were the 3rd incarnation of Godhood. The AllFather and his Children were the first, then The Troll Gods and their Bretheren the Elder Gods. When the Thousand had willed themselves into existence, the Elene God had already been there. He had aided their transition into existence and taught them of the world they now inhabited. At first, they had thought of him as an Elder God, and treated him as such. When the Elders had tried to erase their existence, he had fought at their side and gained entry into the Thousand. There were few among the Thousand who even knew his True name, calling him instead by the name he'd chosen for himself at their emergence, ERND.

"How can this be, Aphrael? If he is trully one of the Seven, how can none of us have seen it before?" asked one of her cousins, a serious older women who was dressed rather conservatively by Aphrael's standards.

"If he is one of the Seven, he would have the ability to block our knowledge of his origins and true self. He would be able to appear as nothing more then another of us. He could easily hide his nature from all, even the Elder Gods, who were more powerful individually then ourselves. It is no secret that while we are Gods, we are not as powerful on an individual basis as the Elders, and the Elders paled in comparison to the Seven. We were only able to survive because we are the Thousand, and the Elders were only 12. We all know that as the cycles of Time go on, even we will one day move on and others will take our place. They will be weaker then us, but still above our charges of mankind. And then they will be replaced and so on. But as the Gods grow weaker, mankind grows stronger. Eventually, the last of the Gods will be on equal level of power as mankind and then the cycles will begin anew.

We all know this, as we know our destinies. But have any of you tried seeing the future? Looking into the mists of the coming years? Something has clouded it from our vision. No longer is the future assured. There are now only possibilities. Even the fates of mankind have been rewritten and the new fates blocked from out sight. Something stirs, and it is powerful enough to alter destiny. We must seek out this Child of Light, and ask for his aid. We must learn of his intentions and the source of his opposite." Ganya spoke, replying for the child goddess. "I would ask that we all have our children searching, but especially that Aphrael approach Anhaka and his allies. I have no doubt that in the coming storm, we will require his assitance."

Aphrael nodded, and she and Sephrenia, who had remained silent during the discussion, left the gathering.

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Sephrenia woke and quickly rose from the bed she shared with her husband. She began to prepare for a long journey, doing so as quietly as she could. She did not wish to wake Vanion or their child with her preparations. Time enough for them to sleep a little more before they learned they had to once again return to Cimmuria and the coming struggle.

Though she did not touch the hidden closet which contained Vanion's tools of war, she did prepare his other belongings. She then sighed as she realized they did not have the materials needed to prepare fheir daughter for a long journey. The thought was barely in her mind when a gentle sound from the front door attracted her attention. As silent as a shadow, she moved to the door, pulling it open on it's well oiled hinges.

"Greetings Ganya. I would have thought you would remain at the gathering until all had left." she mentioned to the elderly gentleman to enter their dwelling.

Ganya smiled gently at the small woman. He, unlike most Styrics, had allowed a long beard to grow on his face, and it was white with his age. "Dear Sephrenia, that would normally be true, but times call for us to work quickly. You above all know how quickly time passes in the other world. We came up with several ideas, but nothing conclusive until you can speak to Anhaka. So, I have come back early in order to help you prepare for your journey. My children are gathering supplies and equipment you might need for the trip to Cimmuria. The women are gathering what you will need for you daughter during your travels."

"Thank you, Ganya. That is most appreciated. Vanion and I thought that we would not have to travel such distances for many years to come. We were not prepared to travel as we used to." Sephrenia busied herself with preparing some tea, knowing that Vanion would need some when he awoke, and feeling the need for some herself. She and the elder sat in comfortable silence while the water rose to a boil.

Once the water was ready, she poured it into two teacups and dropped in a pinch of tea leaves. She stirred the cups and passed one to Ganya. They drank in silence, all the while their minds puzzled over the coming trials.

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Sparhawk groaned as someone prodded him in the side. He tried to turn away from the prodding digit, but a weight on his side opposite the prodding kept him from moving. Reluctantly, he opened his eyes. His face settled into a scowl as he noticed his daughter next to the bed, a look of amusement on her face. "What do you want, Danae? It's late, and I have a long day of paperwork and training tomorrow."

The Elenian princess scowled at her father. "Wake up, Sparhawk. Somethings happening you need to know about."

Sighing as he realized that he was talking to the other side of his daughter, he carefully extracted himself from his young wife's grip and swung out of bed. There was a slight chill in the air, and he wondered why he hadn't lit the fire before heading to bed. His lips twitched as he recalled that his wife had been in an amorous mood and that was why they had been so entwinned under the covers and the fire had remained unlit.

"What's going on Aphrael?" knowing that the goddess would have been certain to assure that their conversation would not be heard, even by Ehlana.

"Something big is coming, Sparhawk. A new force of Darkness is walking the land, and so is a new source of Light. Both are really powerful, Sparhawk. The Dark Force has hidden itself so well that not even the combined powers of the Thousand can find it. And not too long ago, the Light did something. We don't know what, but we know that it was powerful enough to break the barriers the Thousand had set on their meeting place. I'm surprised that you didn't feel it, Sparhawk."

At her words, he gave a quick glance to his still sleeping wife and the smug expression she wore even in her sleep. He then turned to his sometime daughter and raised an eybrow.

It took the goddess a moment, then she blushed brightly red as she realised what he was implying. "Oh. You and Mother were... Okay then. I guess that would distract you, wouldn't it? I almost can't wait until Talen and I are married if it's that . . . compelling."

Sparhawk frowned at the reminder of his daughter's plans. While he liked the former thief, and found him an excellent trainee with a good head on his shoulders, he didn't think he was good enough for his daughter. Of course, in his mind, no one was good enough for Danae. She was only 14, and it was too early for her to be thinking about boys. She'd need to be at least twice her age before considering marriage.

Aphrael sighed. "Oh, father. Don't be such a stick in the mud. Mother decided she was going to marry you when she was five, and she did before she was twenty. Heck, if she wasn't the queen, most people would think she got married late."

Sparhawk felt the beginning of a familiar headache. "We can talk about this later, for now, what's going on?"

Aphrael sighed. "We don't really know. All we do know is that whatever is coming, is strong enough to alter the destiny of the world. The future has shifted course. What will be is no longer certain. The fate of all, both God and Man has changed, and we don't know what is happening. Everything is in flux. There's countless possibilities about what might happen, and we can't see more then a handfull of them. Whatever is coming is going to rock the world, Sparhawk. Worse then the battle between Klael and Bheliom. Worse then our battles with the Elder Gods. We have reason to believe that it involves the children of the AllFather in some way."

Sparhawk frowned, not knowing what the goddess was talking about. "Who or what is this AllFather? I've never heard of him before."

"There was no reason for you to know. It happened during The first cycle, and we are in the third. The AllFather is just that. The Father of All. He was the first god. The won who created the Universe even as the Universe created him. He had seven children. Sons who became the original Gods of Man. Torak, Chaldan, Nedra, Issa, Belar, Mara and Aldur. Each chose a people to rule over, except for Aldur who dwelt alone in the Vale, a sacred place. Eventually, several very special people made their way to the Vale, and Aldur taught them the secret of Sorcery. Of the Will and the Word. Eventually, some things happened, and they left, but did not leave fully until Torak had been killed and a new god raised in his place. This god was left to watch over the future on Man.

No one really knows what happened, though some of us believe we know. Your God, the god of the Elene Church, is not one of the Thousand, though he did aid us in the battle against the Elder Gods and was largely responsible for sealing Azash and the Troll Gods. He was the only one aside from yourself that Azash ever feared or respected. We always though he was older then he claimed, but recently, he's been acting odd, even for him."

'That headache's getting worse. God acting odd?' the embattled knight sighed as he realised things were indeed getting bad if Aphrael thought someone was acting odd. "How do you mean?" he asked, fearing the answer.

"I know you had the same dream we had, even if it didn't wake you. So you felt some-thing stirring, but not as much as we did. Well, after the dream woke me, I went to visit Him at the Chapterhouse. HE was smilling and laughing, Sparhawk. Laughing so hard, he was rolling around on the ground. I'm here with you now, but I'm also with him there. I split into Flute and Danae to get you up and bring you to the chapterhouse to meet with him. HE knows more then HE's willing to tell me alone. After I bring you there, I'm going to go back to the meeting of the Thousand to discuss the forces we've felt. I have no doubt that they are going to have me come back to you and have you and reform our little group. So once that meeting is done, I'm going to have to go influence our friends into coming here or talk the others into getting them here."

While his daughter explained, Sparhawk was dressing. He paused with his chain mail over his head when she mentioned that his God wished to speak to him. He'd never been in the actual physical presence of his God before though he liked to believe his prayers had been heard. Despite his own intimate relationship with several Gods, Sparhawk was not a spiritual or religious man but he did have his beliefs. The chance to actually speak, face to face, with the God of his Church was very inspiring. And intimidating.

"I'm going to meet God?" he asked, just to clarify the situation.

Aphrael rolled her eyes. "Sparhawk, you've met several Gods already. You are even the father of a Goddess, remember? What's so special about your meeting this god?"

Sparhawk sighed. "You wouldn't understand, Aphrael. It's an Elene thing. Yes, I know you are a god, but this is different since this is MY god. The relationship between an Elene and his god is very different from that of a Styric and their gods. It's a less personal relationship, but more . . . involved way of worship. It's more about getting us together in peace then about seeing and speaking to god. Most Elene's wouldn't be able to handle taling to god in the way Styrics relate to the Thousand. I know I've met, and even fought gods, Aphrael. And I never forgot who you are, daughter. But it's just not the same."

Aphrael sighed. "I guess I will never understand. I just don't see why HE has to be so stuffy all the time. And those depictions artists give of him? Totally wrong. The person they are talking about looks nothing like what he really looks like. He takes on that appearance to apease your Elene sensibilities of what a God should look like, but really, he's nothing like that. I won't spoil the surprise, but I felt you should know."

Sparhawk grunted as he finished strapping on his sword. He didn't really think he'd need it for simply going to the chapterhouse chapel, but experience had taught him to never take anything for granted.

"Well, then. Let's go speak with God, daughter. Maybe he'll know of a way I can get you to behave." The two silently made their way out, passing the guards posted at the doors. The guards didn't react as they passed, staring straight ahead.

Danae batted her eyes at her father, looking remarkably like her mother. "But father, you love me the way I am."