Part 10 - The Greatest Sin
Chapter 167 - With a Drop of Blood
Hirrov yawned as he lay down in the luxurious bed in his palace. He'd earned this, and he needed a well-earned rest. However, as he closed his eyes, a light began to glow in the room. He opened them again to find himself staring into an enormous eye with tentacles flowing around it.
"Dei Volente has mocked me for the last time." Said the voice, this time an angry growl.
"Who…what…" Was all Hirrov could stammer.
"I am Hermaeus Mora, the Gardener of Men, knower of the unknown, master of fates. You are my servant now, mortal."
"I serve Dei Volente, not those who attempt to harm him."
The voice returned to the yawning voice now:
"He is pathetic. Tell me: what knowledge do you seek?"
"I wish to know the truth of the High Elder Gods."
"Do this one thing for me and I shall give you all knowledge of my kind."
Hirrov shifted uncomfortably.
"What do you want?"
"Dei Volente grew very attached to a young slave girl named Alisha. He gave to her a sample of his blood. You will take it from her."
Hirrov weighed up the trade. He could answer all the questions the Church of Dei Volente had, and all he had to do was get a sample of Dei Volente's blood? What good could a small bit of dried blood be to hurt Max?
"Very well, Hermaeus Mora. I will do this one errand, but I expect you to hold your end of the bargain."
Without another word, the eye closed, the tentacles retracted and Hermaeus Mora was gone. Hirrov could feel his heart pounding and his mind racing as he thought over what significance this blood sample could have.
At the beginning of the third hour, the next day, Hirrov and his guard set out to track down Alisha. The Dovah King still wondered what Hermaeus could do with a drop of blood and considered asking Max, but that could risk enraging Hermaeus. After the two hours it took to descend the mountain on horseback, Hirrov and his royal guard entered the city. There were fewer people here as many had already left or were at the docklands waiting to board a ship to go home now the Dovah Games were concluded. However, the Guides would remain here for a few years. Hirrov headed for the arena with the intention to speak to his own. Perhaps they would be able to introduce him to Alisha?
Hirrov's guide showed him through to the room which had been Max's a few days before. Alisha was there, tidying things up in preparation for its next occupant. Recognising the Dovah King, she dropped what she was holding and knelt down. Hirrov signalled for his guards to leave them. The door was closed leaving the King and slave alone.
"What can I do, Your Majesty?" Alisha asked.
"I understand your Champion, Maximilian, left you a sample of his blood?"
"He did. He pricked his thumb, pressed it on a cloth and told me to keep and remember it no matter what happened."
"May I see this cloth?"
"Yes Your Majesty."
She fished in her pocket and produced the strip of cloth Max had given her with his blood on. Hirrov took it and looked it over, continuing to wonder what Hermaeus Mora could need with a spot of dried blood.
"It is important that I keep this." He said, feeling guilty taking her only memory of him away.
Her upset look made the feeling even stronger, but in the eyes of the society they lived in she was a slave and had to obey the command of any free person, especially the Dovah King. If she refused, she would be executed. She nodded, knowing this fully well.
"I'm sorry." Hirrov whispered.
It didn't help how she felt, but it made him feel ever so slightly less guilty. He turned to leave, but she said:
"Max is alive. I know what happened, as does all the city. People are unhappy."
Hirrov nodded.
"I know he is alive. I have spoken to him, as have the dov. Do not tell anyone for both our sakes."
Outside the arena, a small crowd had gathered to see their new Dovah King. The guards had tried to disperse them to no avail, but Hirrov was quite happy to talk with them. He may be in league with a God and their father but he planned to be a good King who cared for his people. However, it seemed Hermaeus Mora was in no mood to wait around. As the King had barely begun to shake hands, a growl caught the attention of all. Directly above them was a dark mass of twisting tentacles and eyes.
"You have something for me, mortal."
Everyone here knew who this was and they threw themselves to the ground in worship of the High Elder God. Hirrov only knelt, but he dug in his pocket and produced the strip of cloth. A slimy tentacle took it from him.
"Your service has been most…useful. You shall have your reward."
The darkness retreated taking the cloth with it. There was silence all round as people tried to work out what had just happened. Even Hirrov was a little shocked, albeit more at how hasty Hermaeus was being than his presence.
Miles was in an extremely bad mood. He could deal with sleeping on a rock, although he'd woken up a little grumpy. Now, however, he was starving and Max seemed more intent on talking to his dragon friends than anything else. After what must have been nearly three hours, he gave up and decided to go and see what he could find. However, instead of going to descend the mountain, something made him change his mind and in his hunger-driven bad mood decided to go and slate Max. The God turned his head to look at his father as he approached.
"Are you done talking to your winged friends yet?"
"We have a lot to discuss."
"Like what? The weather? I'm starving."
"And? Go find something instead of bothering me."
"I've no idea where I'm going. I don't speak any language the people down there will understand. When are you going to start caring about everybody else's needs?"
Max rolled his eyes and stood up.
"Maybe it would do some good if I let you starve."
"And what would Gwen think of that?"
"Oh. Is that what this was ultimately about? You want her back? Well what if she doesn't want to wake up in a place where they only just invented the wheel?"
"What if she doesn't want to wake up in a world without me?"
"She'll have me."
"How comforting. What will she do when she gets mad at you for not waking her up? And how will she react when she finds out you let me starve to death?"
"She'll never know."
"And if she works it out?"
"Then there'll be a problem."
"Wake her up and let her decide!"
"And have her stuck here regardless of the decision? Nice try."
The spider and God stared each other down. The dragons seemed to be enjoying this. Miles glanced at Max's arm where he could see the black and white soul stone he could sense was hers. Max followed his line of sight and laughed.
"Come and get it."
The God took a number of threatening steps, not expecting his father to do anything. Because of that expectation, he was more than a little surprised to take a fist in the face. The next punch he caught and began to twist Miles' arm. Miles charged a mega venom strike and punched him allowing himself to get free. Max stumbled back and reached for the hilt of Furore Mortale. The clouds above started to darken and an angry rumble of thunder echoed across the island.
"I will not part with one more of these stones. They will wake up when I decide the time is right."
"Who are you to make that choice?"
"Dei Volente."
Miles shook his head.
"Not to them. Not to me. You're just Maximilian, and you're turning into a real a-hole."
"And you aren't? Look in the mirror. I might not be a fan of Jesus and his holy works, but he had a point when he said take the plank out your own eye first."
Miles charged another venom strike and threw the punch; Max drew Furore Mortale out of spite and made to relieve the spider of his hand. However, an enraged bellow of 'fus, ro, dah' hurled both him and Miles across the mountain top, coming to rest not far from the edge.
"God or no God, Dei Volente, you will not desecrate holy soil with meaningless feuds!" Hirrov barked.
Max picked himself up and replied with:
"Being a God, isn't the whole point that I decide where's holy?"
"The dov make this site holy, not you."
Max muttered something rude in one of the millions of languages he knew. He turned to Miles, wondering whether or not to continue the fight now he knew Hirrov was here. The spider glared at him, ready for round two, although the fear was obvious in his eyes. Max decided to try and provoke him again.
"If you want your dear wife back so badly, come and get her."
Miles clenched his fist but made no moves.
"That's what I thought. Don't interfere with what you don't understand."
The God turned and walked away, barging into Hirrov's shoulder as he passed. The King turned to Miles who relaxed a little and looked at the basket he was carrying. Hirrov pointed at it, then at the spider as if to say it was for him. Miles understood and nodded his thanks. Inside was a loaf of bread and some assorted fruits. He tucked in hungrily while Hirrov watched. The King wondered how he could communicate with Miles with the language barrier. He glanced round and saw the dovah. Would they act as translators? They spoke Dovahzul and the strange language the spider did, so it was merely an act of willingness. He approached them and knelt down getting some questioning looks from the dragons.
"Mighty dov. I must ask a favour of you."
"Speak, Dovah King." Replied Odahviing.
"I wish to speak with the father of Dei Volente, but I do not speak his tongue nor he mine. But you do speak it."
"You would kneel before us simply to ask for such a small thing?" Asked the white dragon.
"He fears us, Yolsotwuth." Said one of the green dragons.
"Your fear is needless, Dovah King. We are as both mortal and immortal as the God you recently struck with your Thu'um. You did not kneel before him, and he is your king, is he not?" Odahviing replied.
"It is not my proudest moment."
The green dragons laughed, but Paarthurnax silenced them with a glare.
"Yolsotwuth will be your translator, Dovah King."
The white dragon lumbered forward and towards Miles who looked up from the half finished loaf of bread and frowned to see the beast approaching him, but didn't act afraid.
"Thank you, great dov. I am in your debt."
The King made his way to where Miles was sitting with Yolsotwuth now lying nearby.
"I wish to apologise for hitting you with my Shout." Hirrov started.
Yolsotwuth translated it into English for Miles who realised why the dragon was here now.
"It's OK. I kinda started it."
Yolsotwuth translated it back to Dovahzul.
"Dei Volente: he is a…complex figure."
"He's seen a lot. So have I, though, and I'm not a hot-headed jackass."
"Perhaps his being a High Elder God explains it?"
"Probably. I'm his dad though, so I should really make a bit more of an effort to patch things up with him."
"I am confused as to how you can be the father of a God as old as time."
"Because he isn't as old as time. I mean, he's older than your world by a lot. There used to be loads of other dimensions, then stuff went down and so did the omniverse. Now all that's left are five Gods, five dragons and ninety-nine weirdos in stones."
"Dimensions?"
"It's complicated. But hey, what about your world? Any family?"
"No, sadly. They were slaughtered by the Tuta Empire when it invaded the Fanor."
"Paint me a picture of your world; I don't get it. How many empires are there?"
"There are two: Tuta and Fanor. The Sunor kingdom is a puppet of the Tuta. Then there is Dovah Island which is a puppet of all three. Our faith is what unites us, and that unity is what makes the Dovah King the most powerful man alive."
"So do the other three surround the island or what?"
"The world is formed of two continents. The three we have discussed are on the Eastern. Dovah Island is in between and we have not heard from the Western for many centuries. It is believed they wiped themselves out in a civil war which had begun at the last communication."
"Nobody's tried to pay them a visit?"
"Many have, none return."
Miles sighed.
"Since I'm not going anywhere else, maybe I'll buy a boat and go see what's up?"
"It is unwise, but it is equally your own life."
Hirrov glanced up at the sun.
"I do apologise, but I must leave before my entourage wonders what has become of me and discovers you here."
"It's been good to chat with someone who isn't…mildly mad at me."
"I will return soon with further supplies. Farewell Miles Morales, father of Dei Volente."
Crossovers in this Chapter
- Skyrim
Reading this chapter, I realise part 10 is kind of a grave yard of abandoned ideas and plot holes...