Hey guys, here's another installment for you. Book Five is on the horizon! But we've still got a couple more pantheons to visit! Here's Sigurd venturing into the Hindu territory! If I get anything wrong or if anything is inaccurate, I apologize. I didn't have a lot of time to study up on the Hindu pantheon, but I read and found out enough to put this chapter together! Hope I did it somewhat correctly! If not, I mean no disrespect.
Now then, let's get on with the chapter!
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters (except the OC's) Percy Jackson & The Olympians, Heroes Of Olympus, Or Trials Of Apollo. All of that belongs to Rick Riordan.
5. Elder Of The Order
Day One Hundred and Ninety-Five - Entry One Hundred and Ninety-Five
I'm finally here. India.
The Jagannath Temple in Puri, to be specific. I haven't been here before, but I expected it to be crowded.
Not this crowded though. If you were to raise your arm, you'd surely bump into someone, at all times. I'm not used to such an environment.
I have more hope here, because unlike the others, if there is a Camp here, it will be far easier to find. There are many temples, many religious leaders, and many followers to interact with.
More than one billion followers. One billion. It doesn't seem real. I can only imagine the kind of power that support garners. If Sigurd has learned something, most, if not all pantheons, mainly operate on worship and belief. The gods, or singular god in three cases, existed before mortals, but many still depend on them.
Their support would be an incredible addition. But if things go awry, and they become hostile...he won't be able to survive. I know when I'm overpowered, and I know here, I am. Very much so. I need to tread carefully, or I'll be killed.
Sigurd found himself staring up at the large temple. For how long, he wasn't sure. But he knew he'd better get a move on, or he'll be noticed.
Like he wasn't already noticed. He looked nothing like these people, he dressed nothing like them, he stood out like glass shards in a sand pile.
The plan was to find the swami of this temple, follow him if need be, and somehow reach into his mind.
Swamis were mortal religious leaders, yes, but Sigurd was betting they'd be connected in some way. At least a hint, or an inkling of where a stronghold might be for demigods.
If they were even demigods. They could be descendants, or just blessed mortals for all he knew.
Studying the Hindu pantheon had been a bit more confusing than the others, for a few reasons. The main one being that the stories never seem to stay consistent. There are so many variations, the language even changes over time. But he always likes to stick with the original, first script. So he did, he studied and learned to read Sanskrit, the sacred language of Hinduism.
The first story, the story of creation, already had two opposing tales, that were wildly different from one another. The first one, started rather similar to the Greek's version. There was a sky father, and an earth mother, Dyaus and Privthi. But then it quickly became like the Shinto pantheon in that their three children came along and took the control from them, willingly. Surya, the sun god, Agni, the fire god, and Indra, the warrior king of the gods.
Indra was a bit more powerful than the other two. In this version, he's a bit like Zeus, or Amaterasu, or Ra. The central head of the pantheon. His main weapon was a lightning bolt, and his most popular tale is that of him slaying Vritra, the great serpent. Killing the snake created the sun, the dawn, and the rest of the sky. Which was a bit...confusing, since Sigurd thought the sun god was already covered, but whatever.
The death of the serpent also created Chaos. Chaos, the infinite void that is space, that takes up the universes.
Not hard to follow along. But here's another version.
In Vedas, another ancient script, Prajapati is the creator god, and a concept of an essence of reality was created, called Brahman. It's a bit like Chaos, but it's not a void, it's more of an infinite...soul. It's full, not empty.
Three deities embody it the most, and gain the most power from it. Brahma, the creator, Vishnu, the preserver, and Shiva, the destroyer.
Each are distinct, and have their own stories, but each embody Brahman in different, core ways.
Brahma doesn't partake much in the juicy stuff, like quests and battles and such. That more so goes to Vishnu and Shiva. Vishnu was in charge of protecting the world from evil, and he often appeared as different avatars, ten main different ones. Like a fish, a boar, a man-lion, so on and so forth.
Shiva is more of an avenger. And reminded Sigurd more of the classic examples of gods than Vishnu. He's more associated with eroticism, showing off, flashiness, things like that.
Of course there are other gods, but Sigurd prefers not to go down that rabbit hole. The point is, he's not sure which versions to believe. But in the grand scheme of things, he's not worried about interacting with the gods of the pantheon, or their power. He knows their powerful. Even if one version is false, the other has merit as well, for what Sigurd is interested in. Indra, essentially a Zeus twin, who may be even more powerful than the Greek king, or Vishnu and Shiva, both warrior gods.
He can't imagine how powerful their children would be, if they had any. He hoped so. It couldn't be a dying pantheon, like the Slavic, since there are still so many followers, and as involved in erotica as most of the gods were, there had to be demigods out there. Probably a lot of them.
Sigurd closes his eyes and reaches out with his world sight. His radar comes up, like an X-ray, he sees the Swami in the back of the temple, sitting on the ground, praying. The area is empty.
He enters the temple, and briefly looks around at the sheer size of it. It's huge, as big as a Catholic church. It almost comes up like a pyramid, or a mountain. It's not square, its width decreases as it goes up, each row having a multitude of statues sitting, with their hands next to their heads.
He whipped his head back forward, not wanting to get distracted. Everything was wide open, and he could see the Swami with his back towards him, facing a statue, with his eyes closed probably.
"Yes?" He said, with an accent.
Sigurd didn't respond, he just kept walking. Quickly. He wanted to be more safe than sorry and get this over with. He didn't detect any presence or spirit within him, but for all he knew the man could be suppressing it.
When the swami heard nothing come back to him, he turned around a little. "May I help you?"
"Stay calm." Sigurd said and reached forward with his hand.
The swami panicked, his eyes went wide. "Stop! What are you-"
Sigurd placed his hand on the swami's forehead and silenced him. Closing his own eyes, he broke right through the man's mental barrier, and dug into his memories.
It was like sticking a tiny camera in the man's bloodstream. He saw himself diving into a tunnel of images. He saw the man interacting with people, temples, more praying, and personal stuff that Sigurd wasn't interested in.
He decided to surge once to check the most special memories. Memories the brain identifies as more important than the others. Core memories. Like a person remembering something from when they were three years old. It's very uncommon for someone to be able to remember something that far back, but if it's happy or important enough, it can be seen vaguely.
And he saw something interesting.
At the very back, he identified an image of the man standing before a group of people. He was in another temple. Only this one wasn't ordinary, or like the one they stood in now. It sparkled, literally, with gold, all different kinds of pearls Sigurd couldn't even identify. It was a mixture of precious gems, intricate stonework, and a height that seemed to reach the sky.
The people the swami stood in front of were all brown skinned, bald headed, and wearing baggy, colorful clothes. They seemed to be...ordaining him, or something. The man he stood in front of had his hand placed on his head, much like Sigurd did now. Only he could tell he wasn't reading his mind.
He'd seen enough. That was what he was looking for. Those people had to know something, if this swami didn't.
Sigurd removed his hand and the swami gasped, falling on his hands and breathing harshly.
"Those people, are they demigods?"
He looked up fearfully, "W-Who are you?"
Sigurd sighed and looked the man in the eyes with his good one. He laced his voice with as much persuasion as he could. If he couldn't get the man to talk regularly, he would force it.
"You're going to tell me who those people are, and where you were in the memory."
His pupils dilated, and he went slack jawed, speaking without emotion. Like a programmed robot.
"The Order of Shiva. The sacred temple of the same name."
Order of Shiva? Interesting. "Where is this sacred temple?"
"New Delhi."
"The capital?"
"Yes."
Sigurd nodded, and blinked, letting the man go of his trance. He quickly turned around and started walking out the door. The man called after him, "What did you do to me?!"
He didn't answer, he just kept going. To not draw attention, Sigurd held on to the giant doors and let them shut gently, as opposed to a slamming that would no doubt catch several glances. Once it was closed, he let go and aimed to walk down the street, adding on to the plan.
But before he could, he spotted a figure standing not ten feet from him, very clearly staring, and standing at attention, like he was expecting something.
The person was dressed normally, sans a hood over his head. Other than that, he didn't look out of the ordinary, so Sigurd brushed it off as a worshipper visiting the temple, and the staring due to Sigurd's appearance. He had gotten a few stares since he got here.
"Pardon me."
But before Sigurd could even take five steps, the man said something that stopped him.
"Sigurd Borgarsson, I would advise you to go home."
Sigurd turned around sharpy, narrowing his eyes at the figure. It was a man, judging by the deepness of his voice. His accent was there, but it wasn't as broken or thick as the swamis, or the locals. Could this be a member of the Order? He...knew Sigurd's name, which bothered him. He hadn't told anyone his name since he'd been here, so the man had to have some sort of mental ability. Sigurd can't even identify someone's name unless they think it, or he overhears someone say it.
Instead of saying 'excuse me' or 'who are you?' Sigurd asked "Why?"
The man's smile could be seen under the shadow of the cloak as he stepped closer, "Because you're a foreigner."
"You don't mean it the way you sound, do you?" Sigurd noted, "You mean...my other identity."
"Your other identity?" He chuckled, "It's your only identity. You're from the Norse Order, aren't you?"
Sigurd knew he was out of his league here. Obviously. If the man could determine all of this through sheer mind reading, or memory searching, and he'd remained undetected by Sigurd this entire time, he was not to be messed with.
So he didn't plan to lie. "I am."
"Then you should leave now, to keep things as they were. It is for the best."
"You know my intentions?"
"I do." He looked around and lowered his voice, "They do as well."
"Who are they? Who are you? Give me answers."
"Listen. We've known about you since you arrived. The Elders can sense the prana of all the country's inhabitants. Well, all the world's inhabitants, but mainly our land." His expression darkened a shade, "They noticed you the moment you arrived. They won't be interested, I promise you."
Sigurd was somehow able to keep up with all the information. Elders, Prana, all of it. "Do they know of the threat that's coming? Do you know of it?"
He nodded, "Yes, and they aren't interested."
"Who even are you? Why are you here?"
He sighed, "I'm not here to argue or fight, I was sent to warn you. I'm of Vishnu's Order. We're a bit...more forgiving and merciful than the one that you're seeking."
"The Order of Shiva?"
"Yes."
"Well...can I converse with your council then? If I'm guessing, you're in charge of preserving the culture, correct? Ancient texts and artifacts? You're arguably more important than they are. Just from an outsider's perspective."
"Those are our tasks, yes. We are meant to protect the pantheon's most sacred items, tangible or not. But as an outsider, and the business that you come with...you would have to talk with Shiva's Order. They are the most powerful among us." He quickly shook his head and waved his hand, "But I'm telling you, don't. You'll be wasting your time."
Sigurd honestly didn't think there would be much hostility, much less a warning to leave. He figured the Hindu demigods a more peaceful group, which they were, to be fair. At least they gave him a warning.
But he'd come too far, and this was too important to pass up. "I'm sorry, but I have to speak with them. I have to speak with somebody."
He looked like he expected that, and grimaced. "They'll refuse. And they are very, very careful about foreigners, any move deemed inappropriate or disrespectful could be met with force."
"I'll take my chances."
"Very well. But I warned you." The man looked around, as if to make sure no one was watching. Then he snapped his fingers and he disappeared, like blipping right of thin air, not in smoke, not in mist, just a pop.
Sigurd thought about what he said. He seemed genuine enough, and Sigurd had no doubt that Shiva's children were incredibly powerful. But he couldn't leave this place without hearing no for himself from whoever was in charge. He didn't want to hear it, but there wouldn't be much he could do to change it.
So it would just be a gamble.
He figured any action using his powers could be disrespectful. So he decided not to use speed or anything else, so he took a series of buses all the way to New Delphi.
It also gave him some time to think. Mainly about what he was going to say. He had a script planned out for all the Camps, and it worked pretty well with the ones so far, but knowing what he knows now, he might have to change it up a bit. Or come up with a new one on the fly.
Finally, he arrived. As soon as he stepped out, he found himself in the massive city, his neck craning up and sideways to look at all of the buildings. It would take him an entire month to find Shiva's temple.
If he didn't have world sight.
He prayed it wouldn't be blocked out by a counter force. After all, if they knew he was here, then they probably knew his every move, including ones with his abilities involved. He closed his eyes, deciding to throw caution to the wind.
In his mind, he saw the entire city as an X-ray, with each person as a little white dot, and the cities as black squares. In the center though, there was a bigger white dot, about a hundred times as big as a single person. He homed in on that, erasing the other sources of life.
When he zoomed in on it, the white dot disappeared and became the outline of a giant building, with pillars and floors and a sloped roof. There were little white dots all over the place, over a dozen at least, about half in different places of the temple, and the other in the courtyard, standing atop a long set of stairs.
In a straight line. They looked like they were holding weapons...
They were waiting for Sigurd. They knew he was coming.
Well, at least he knew where to go now. He traversed the distance on foot, which wasn't all that bad. That bus stopped about two miles away from the middle of the city, so Sigurd made it there in about twenty minutes.
When he did, his eyes widened to the top of his head. He couldn't believe it. In front of him, sat a wide, thick, marble stoned set of stairs. It was like a gateway to the sky, it traveled up hundreds of feet, with thousands upon thousands of stair steps. He couldn't even see the temple, no matter how much he squinted or leaned.
He looked around, incredulous that the swaths of people couldn't see it. It was right in front of them! If-
Ah, the concept of the veil escaped him for a moment. He was so taken back by the sheer size and bluntness of it, he almost couldn't believe it was real. The veil had to be pretty strong here to conceal it. He guessed the godly portion of his blood was the only reason he could see it.
Sigurd took in a deep breath and walked up the stairs. He wasn't exactly nervous; he was more dreading the daunting walk he had to uptake. There were legitimately thousands of steps. He couldn't just walk normally.
He didn't want to use speed, because that could damage the stairs. He knew that would earn a good punch to the face...or a Rajput to the face.
So he did the only other thing he could think of. He manipulated his spirit around his hand and tossed it up in the air, making it take the form of a bird.
A giant, green raven. A bit like the concept of Matt's bird, only this is temporary.
Sigurd jumped up on its back but didn't sit down, he stood straight and willed it to fly upward. It wasn't actually alive, it was a bit weird when you say it, but it's like taking spirit, or aura, and molding it in a shape that you can ride on, then moving it in the air, while you're on it.
Of course, it takes a lot of prowess to keep spirit visible, materialized, shaped like a raven, and moving at high speeds. But of course, like the other million things he learned from Hannes, this was one of them.
This way, it took about ten minutes to get up there. Which was still a long time considering how fast he was going. These stairs had to be miles long. Once he reached the top at last, he found the same line of warriors he saw in world sight, all standing neatly together, exactly two feet apart. They stared at Sigurd, and he noted they weren't without their weapons in the slightest. On each one's back, sat a longbow and a quiver full of arrows, with Rajputs firmly on their waist, held with a leather wrap. Rajputs are short swords, mainly ceremonial, but Sigurd supposed they could be just as deadly as anything else if need be.
He stopped to a halt and jumped off, the green bird vanishing as soon as contact was broken. Taking a moment to glance down, he saw all the huge buildings as small squares now. This far up, everything was silent and chilly.
Shiva's Order all dressed and looked about the same. They all had the same skin tone, similar build, tall, lean and strong, and they were all bald. A couple however had different symbols on their dhoti, which was a bit like a tunic, in that it was a long sleeve shirt coming down past the waist, kept tied with thin rope or another fabric. The differing symbols must've identified rank, but one was constant across each of them. A trident.
Well, it looked like a trident. That was the best way to describe it. It was clearly a spear with three heads, the two on the sides curled a bit, and under it, were three separate lines coming out of a circular shape. Most likely meant to be an eye.
It was Shiva's symbol. Sigurd saw it in consistently in both ancient and modern depictions.
Their spirit, or he supposed prana in this case, was also immense, even just standing here casually. Each one of them could easily overpower a Norse god with a single strain or flex of their muscle. It was...unreal to be around such power. He couldn't imagine them in a real battle.
The one in the middle spoke first. He had to have been the leader, or at least, a high-ranking warrior.
"We know why you're here, Son of Odin. We aren't interested. Leave now."
His voice was firm and deep, threatening to turn into a shout at any moment. The mark of a seasoned leader.
"I understand, but if you could just hear me out-"
"Ouranos is a god of the Greek pantheon, it is not our threat, or our fight. Leave."
Sigurd huffed, "You don't care about the safety of your pantheon? The safety of the world? How about the universe?"
"We are not attackers. We are defenders. We will battle when our land is in danger. We won't put our trust in...untrustworthy people."
"Untrustworthy?" Sigurd was confused, "Where do you get that from? You've interacted with the other pantheons?"
"We have tried before, but it did not go so well. Besides, the pantheons have stayed separated for a reason. It is unwise to mix."
"Do you understand the potential danger here?" Sigurd said, "You are incredibly powerful. I don't have to see you fight to know. Why not intervene and take care of this? Why not help? What does your god say?"
At that, the warriors tensed up, and Sigurd felt his own body get tight. He wouldn't be able to hold even the weakest of them, that's why he'd wanted to tread carefully with his words. But he was getting ahead of himself. Time to dial it back down.
The leader held up a hand to calm them, "Lord Shiva only speaks to us when necessary, and he has spoken nothing about this to us. He doesn't see it as a threat, so we don't as well. It is not our problem. When it becomes our problem, we will deal with it then."
Sigurd shook his head, "What about the other people outside of your land? Your pantheon? What about all of those innocent lives? Would you not make an exception to help them?"
"There have been other threats." His reply was instant, "There have been other world threatening foes that have been defeated inside the Greeks' territory. We know all about the time lord Kronos, we know about their Earth goddess Gaea. They were defeated, were they not?"
"This is different." Sigurd urged. "Ouranos's plan will make him more powerful than either of those two combined. He has a way with persuasion. If he comes for you, he'll take a god or two with him, and turn them against you. It's happened to every place he's touched so far. Do you want a civil war?"
"That may be the case for others. But not us. We are loyal to each other, and as much as the gods bicker, they would never fight each other over the words of some forgotten sky god."
"Loyal? How do explain the separate orders then? If you are so bonded, why are their different groups for each god?"
"That is none of your business. Either way, we won't be a part of this. The Greeks, nor you, need us anyway. What of your Odin? Can he not help? What of the Greeks' Zeus? With how popular he is, surely there must be some power to back up the stories."
Sigurd was getting annoyed, but he didn't dare show it. He replied, "It's better to be safe than sorry. Overwhelming a threat ensures no contingencies. With even a small fraction of your help, it could change the tide of the war. Please consider."
He shook his head, not even thinking about it. "The answer is no. I won't repeat myself. Don't converse with the other temples as well. We will know about it if you do. You're free to travel the country, but don't enter the temples, and don't harass another swami, either."
Sigurd looked at the ground, completely disappointed. He didn't want to punch something, no, that wasn't the way to put it. He just wanted to sit down and slam his palm to his head. It was a let down. He'd been banking on their support badly, since they were so powerful. He'd take just one warrior if he could, just one would help.
But no. He has to listen, because they'll probably kill him if he doesn't.
"Very well. I'll leave your land soon."
The leader nodded, "That would be best." As Sigurd began to form his green bird again, the leader said something else, a bit louder this time. "Understand this doesn't come from a place of malice. We just want what is best for our people. We don't have a good history with foreigners."
Sigurd said nothing. He formed his bird, hopped on it, and willed it to fly down the stairs.
That night, Sigurd stayed in an inn.
He had no money, so he put the lobby attendant's mind in a trance to forget that he ever saw Sigurd. He felt bad for it, but he couldn't let it bother him. After sleeping on the sand in Mexico, and in the snow in Russia, he wanted the comfort of an actual bed for a change.
It was a quaint room, nothing crazy. He didn't want to take a big room from guests who actually needed it or anything. After he tranced the employee, he simply walked around and opened doors, finding whatever was absolutely necessary. Which led him to something maybe twice the size of a closet. As long as it fit a bed, he was fine. It did, and a bathroom...and a tv, and that's about it.
The sun had set about three hours ago, according to the little clock next to Sigurd on the small table. Outside his single window, he saw the lights of the city, the shadow of tall buildings, and the dark, night sky. No moon though, it was behind him, hidden by the walls.
He listened to nothing except his own breathing, and was far from tired, so he couldn't fall asleep. He figured his deal with Shiva's order would last a lot longer, that they might actually hear him out and agree to something. Maybe he could learn more about them, talk with more members, or even help them out in some way. Not that Sigurd could fight a monster for them, since he was far from that power level, but maybe he could...well, he didn't know. He had nothing to offer them. As smart as he is, he was sure the average demigod scholar for this place was leagues ahead of him.
It had gone horribly. So, he spent half the day, and now currently, staring up at the ceiling, barely blinking, and thinking about this failure.
What if what they had wasn't enough to defeat Ouranos? What if he could've convinced them, but he didn't try hard enough? Ouranos is a trickster god more than anything, and he always, always has a way to get what he wants. Sigurd would never put it past him to find a way to get as strong as he's worrying. Strong enough to even wipe out these people. He could do it. Whether that be with his own power alone, or by recruiting a bitter Hindu god. That sounded like a tactic he would use.
He then thought about his next stop. The Christians. Would it even be worth trying? He's read the Bible front and back about fifteen times, and from what he understands, they're meant to be peaceful, turn the other cheek types. Even provoked, they wouldn't fight. And what if it's similar with them as it was here? Where it isn't their problem, so they won't get involved.
Sigurd was close to punching his fist through the wall, when he heard the sound of a rock tapping his window.
"What the..." He whispered. It sounded like a rock, but maybe it had just been a really heavy bird. Sigurd decided to wait for another to be thrown before investigating.
A few seconds passed, and it happened again. Another pebble bounced off his window, a bit louder this time.
Sigurd got up and walked over, unlatching the window and pulling it up.
When he poked his head out, he furrowed his eyebrows.
It was a man, sitting on the head of a giant snake. No, giant doesn't even cover it. The snake was big enough to wrap its body around the inn Sigurd stood in, it's head easily wide enough for the man to sit on, have coffee on, whatever he wanted to do. It looked friendly though, if a snake can have such an expression. Sigurd only determined this by its eyes, how they were uninterested.
But it was really the man that caught Sigurd's attention, he looked a lot like the warriors of Shiva's Order from earlier. Only much older. Maybe by forty years. He wore common clothes, had brown, wrinkly, saggy skin, a tall, lanky frame, and an unkempt, gray beard. Unlike the warriors from earlier though, he had hair on the back of his head, none on top, that was all over the place, like he'd been electrocuted in a cartoon.
"May I come in?" He said, and it took Sigurd by surprise. He expected his voice to be deep and slow, but instead he got a high pitched, fast greeting.
"Sure." Was all he could say. Who the hell was this guy? Had the Order sent their elder to forcefully kick him out? He planned to leave. He wasn't doing anything wrong.
The snake rose up to the window's level and the man slid inside, stepping into the room. Sigurd noticed that he made no noise whatsoever, even when his feet hit the floor. In fact, the way he moved was very graceful, like the snake he rode on, or the wind itself.
They stood in awkward silence, until the man, with an intense look on his face, gave a very friendly wave. "Hello."
"Um...hello. Who are you?"
"Viraj."
"Okay. And why are you here?"
Viraj gestured towards the window, "May I close it?"
Sigurd shook his head a little, not meaning to answer no, he was just surprised at what was going on.
So Viraj elaborated, whispering, "So they won't hear."
"They?"
"Oh yes. Now may I?"
"Of course, yes, close it."
Viraj nodded and closed the window shut, peeping out the glass to make sure that no one was out there.
"What business do you have with me? Are you from Shiva's Order? If so, I'll be leaving in the morning."
Viraj turned around, "Oh yes, I was of the Order, but I'm not here to kick you out, I'm here to talk."
To talk? Was? So that meant he's retired, or whatever they would call it here. Why would an old warrior want to talk to Sigurd? He didn't remember meeting or even sensing this man in the temple earlier.
So he decided to voice this, "I don't remember seeing you. How did you know about me? Where to find me?"
"I am forever connected to my homeland. It is like a giant tree connected to a swamp." Viraj made little hand motions as he talked, demonstrating the shape of swamp vines. "Everything is connected, every little root all comes back to that one tree. Kind of like us, all people, are connected. The tree would be our belief. What we believe in keeps us unified."
"But...there are different pantheons. People believe in different gods." Sigurd pointed out. "Many don't believe at all."
Viraj shrugged and sat promptly on the floor in a criss cross position, "Everyone believes in something. It doesn't have to be a god. All of them lead back to the same thing, sometimes it just takes different forms."
"I see...so you came here to speak peacefully?"
"Of course. I came because I, unlike the others, will hear you out. I'm rather interested in what you have to say."
"You are?" Sigurd couldn't believe it, "Why?"
"It's best to understand everything before dismissing it. Mind reading doesn't tell all, you know. It's often better to hear it from one's mouth, just to be sure." Viraj winked.
The old man was quite friendly and easy going. Despite his tough appearance, Sigurd could tell he smiled a lot.
"Well, I'm Sigurd Borgarsson, the son of Odin. He is the main god of my pantheon, the Norse pantheon. I'm sure you already know this."
Viraj nodded, "Yes, but just because I already know doesn't mean you shouldn't introduce yourself. Thank you for that." He put a hand to his chest, "I am Viraj Gujarati, a former elder of Shiva's Order. I was relieved of my duties several years ago, but I still visit the temple often."
"Is that how you heard our conversation? Were you there?"
"I wasn't. But a friend told me about your arrival, and what you said. I looked into your spirit and saw no ill intent." He sighed, "I knew the young warriors would dismiss you immediately, and I was right. So I wanted to talk to you myself. Maybe I can help, if I learn more."
"Wait, you knew the young warriors would dismiss me? As if older warriors wouldn't?"
"Well, let's just say things used to be different."
Viraj didn't speak further, but Sigurd had so many questions. He decided to just ask them. It would probably be his only chance.
"Forgive me if I'm being rude, but I have a lot of questions. I studied your pantheon briefly, but word of mouth is always the better way to learn in my opinion. Especially from an elder like yourself."
Viraj nodded, "I agree."
"Tell me, are the gods active? Do you interact with them? If so, how? What do they tell you? What does Shiva tell you?"
"It's not as complicated as you might think. The gods are active, yes, and very much still alive, but as far as interaction...it does not happen often. Only in the most urgent of times. Whether that be dark times, or for celebration. Every now and then you will receive word, through dreams or prayer."
Sigurd raised an eyebrow, "You mean, you've never met any of the gods?"
"I have, a few times. Us elders have seen them in person the most, and young warriors can only dream of such a thing. But to be fair, nowadays, it is even more rare. They have big responsibilities, a big hand in how the multiverse works. Conversing with us is near the bottom of their...to do list, you could say."
Sigurd was becoming fascinated. "But you are demigods, right? You're a son of Shiva?"
"I am. But my group of warriors was the last. The current generation are our children, not a god's."
"Descendants." Sigurd said, and Viraj nodded. "Why would they stop?"
"It is unclear. My guess is that even greater powers told them to. The power imbalance was becoming too great, so they had to stop creating so many children that could become threats. Which is a reasonable idea, because there are many gods in our culture, and they are quite...active, sexually. Fifty or so years ago, their were multitudes of demigods in this country. Each one with indescribable power."
Sigurd held up two fingers, "Two questions, if you don't mind. Greater powers? What do you mean by that? Do you mean the abstract ideas of things like Death and Fate? The universal embodiment of the concepts, or gods from another pantheon? And were there any rogue demigods?"
Viraj smiled at the questions, "You are correct about the concepts of Death and Fate. I'm surprised you'd even know about such a thing. It wasn't another pantheon that decreased the reproduction of half-bloods, but the orders of those very beings like Fate, or Ananke, as the Greeks suggest her name would be. Beings with omnipotent power that even Shiva cannot stand to. As for your other question, of course there were rogue demigods. As many of us as there were, we were bound to have a few rotten eggs."
"You say were like many are dead. Are there not as many demigods now?"
"No. There are still a lot, compared to other cultures, but not as many as in the old days. Many were killed in rebellions of the rogues that I just mentioned. Horrible bloodbaths."
Sigurd was pleased Viraj was answering so many questions. He felt like weight after weight was being lifted off his mind, replaced with feathery knowledge. "Were there ever encounters with other pantheons? Those warriors earlier...their tone when mentioning Odin and Zeus wasn't exactly pleasant."
Viraj made a humming noise, "Well, there is a popular rumor that long ago, millions of years perhaps, there was a battle in which Zeus was involved with Shiva. But it is unclear if that is true. It's also unclear who won." Viraj lowered his voice, "Though my guess would be neither, seeing as how both are still alive."
"What do you mean?"
"I don't know Zeus, but I know that when Shiva wins a fight, no mercy is offered. He kills his opponent. Zeus is still alive, and if they fought, that means he survived, which...very, very few beings can claim such a feat as that."
Sigurd's eyes widened. If that were true, how in the world didn't the entire universe implode from just that one clash?
"So the young warriors hold some resentment for that?" Sigurd asked.
"Yes. The Greeks also don't have the best reputation. As far as your pantheon though, I never recalled any conflict there. Shiva even mentioned Odin once in my presence, calling him a wise, reasonable god."
Sigurd couldn't believe it. His father had spoken to Shiva? And he never told him?! Sigurd had questioned the existence of other pantheons his entire life, even asked his father once about it! All he got was a vague answer that led to nothing.
It made him wonder. Were there annual meetings or something? Did all the leader gods come together for a 'we didn't destroy the world party' every year? What was going on?!
Sigurd put his hands to his cheeks and rubbed them, "I'm sorry, this is a lot. I never expected this kind of information. I grew up my entire life, up until a few months ago, being told my pantheon is the only one. Now I hear that Zeus and Shiva may have had a battle, and that my father spoke with him. I cannot believe it."
"Yes...I imagine that is a lot for you. But I am being honest. That is what I know." He paused, "Did you have any other questions?"
Sigurd racked his brain and thought of something he'd wondered earlier. "Why are there orders for every god? It seems so...separate. I expected all the demigods to have one stronghold, with one leader, or a council of leaders. Not dozens of separate groups."
"I have an answer for that as well, and it...saddens me. Years of bickering and fighting led to the separation. It's actually worked out for the better, as far as civility goes. But still, it shouldn't be that way."
"I'm sorry."
Viraj forced a smile, "It's okay. Now, I've talked quite a bit, so tell me a bit more about what you're here for. You're trying to recruit allies?"
Sigurd nodded, "Yes. There's a Greek threat, his name is Ouranos, and he threatens to take over the world. Probably even more than that. I...honestly don't think just us, the Greeks, or the Romans will be enough. We need more. I've already talked to the Mayans and the Slavics, and now you."
"I see." Viraj stood up and reached towards Sigurd with an outstretched finger, "May I?"
Sigurd figured he was going to look into his mind. But he was a bit confused. Why? He'd already read his mind, right?
But he went with it, "Go ahead."
Viraj proceeded, his finger inched closer, and as soon as it touched the center of his forehead...something very different happened from what Sigurd expected. He expected a fuzzy feeling, Viraj's mind brushing up against his, seeing memories. But no, instead, both he and the old son of Shiva were sucked into a different plane of existence.
Like being dragged down a flight of stairs, Sigurd lurched forward and landed on his hands, feeling rough grain beneath his fingers. He blinked, and saw orange sand all over the place, with a dark background.
"Where..."
He gazed up, and saw a horrific sight, it almost made him crash back onto his rear. There was Ouranos, standing amidst fire and smoke. From the knee down, he was concealed by a sea of dead bodies, and those dead bodies weren't mortals. They were Olympians.
Sigurd recognized a woman with auburn hair, a bow on her back, a trace of dying silver light leaving her lips. Another was a shorter man, his helmet and sandals had small wings on them. A man with magma dripping from his skin, a beautiful woman, her head separated from her body, a man with long black hair reaching for his weapon, only millimeters from his hand. A three pointed spear.
Ouranos quickly stabs the man in the chest, a spear of his own going through easily. Golden blood explodes everywhere and coats the sand with it, the man's hand falls limp.
But there is still one god left. He's bloody, and it looks like he's lived a thousand years of torture. Zeus is on his knees, fists clenched, glaring up at Ouranos with hatred.
The Primordial walks over to him, and for a moment, the smoke is chased away by wind. Sigurd sees that Ouranos is no longer in the body of his son, he's in his own form. Tall, broad shouldered, with gray hair flowing around his head, and lightning dancing off his arms.
He smirks down at the Olympian King, before swiftly slicing his head off with the spear. The spear glows blue and gray for a moment, and dims, while Zeus's head falls to the sand.
Then he turns and smiles at Sigurd wickedly. He has no beard, he's mid-twenties, broad shouldered, bottom half covered with a toga, upper half sculpted like a statue. To a mortal, he'd look more like a god than any on the ground behind him, but to Sigurd, he was the devil. Behind the handsome face and the smooth hair, lies an ugly, horned monster.
Just as it looked like he'd charge Sigurd and stab him too, the scene ended.
He fell down an invisible hole and back into the inn room, landing hard on his back. Sigurd breathed heavily in and out several times, his eyes darting around his sockets, "W-What was that?!"
Then Sigurd felt himself calm down almost immediately. His heart rate was slowed, his breathing too, but he didn't control it. Viraj did it for him.
He was back in his sitting position, with one hand out and the other to his chest, fingers pointed towards the ceiling. He had his eyes closed, clearly deep in concentration. "That's better."
Sigurd shook his head, not saying no, but more like an animal does when it's been doused with water. "What did you do?"
"I reached in and saw what we're dealing with. I searched all the possibilities and all the timelines where this has already happened. It's not looking good."
"Possibilities? Timelines? You're able to do that?"
"I'm able to see glimpses, and that was one of them. As for the possibilities, I saw all of them too. Every scenario in which this god kills the Olympians." He shrugged, "It happens in every single one."
Sigurd sat up, "No, no that can't be true. How many did you see?"
"I can't tell. I saw a lot."
"Out of that many scenarios...there has to be at least one where it goes the other way. That's...not possible. It can't be that one sided."
"It can. It appears that you're dealing with something very dire here. This god is dangerous."
Sigurd wanted to argue his point again, but he figured it useless. Viraj clearly had better insight than he did, and he's already proven his mental abilities are even stronger than his own, so he's inclined to believe him.
"He is. That's why I came here. I need all the help I can get."
Viraj nodded with determination, "Well, you have it from me. The others are stubborn, but I won't make that mistake. I'll help you."
Sigurd was surprised, he reared his head back, "Are you...serious? You'll help me?"
"Of course. The evidence speaks for itself."
"But that's not...I mean, you aren't suspicious? Ouranos isn't that powerful here yet."
"Well, I think it's better to squash a problem before it gets too big, don't you?"
That was exactly what Sigurd thought. That was the literal point he'd made to the warriors earlier. He thought this was too good to be true, Viraj actually agreed with him.
"I do. That's...exactly what I think. But how will I contact you? Will you be able to evade the others? What's to say they don't already know about us talking? About what you just said, even?"
Viraj grimaced, "Oh, they know."
Sigurd nearly gawked, "That quickly?"
"Oh yes. They are the most powerful order, in charge of most of the fighting, no less. They keep a close eye on things. There is no evading them, even if they don't know by now, they will find out soon. I'll have to flee the country."
"Flee the-" Sigurd was completely taken aback, everything was happening so fast. "Hold on, hold on! This is happening so quickly. You're ready to flee your home for this cause? I can't ask you to-"
Viraj cut him off, his tone urgent, as if he could sense the order coming right now. "You did not ask me to do anything. This is my decision. I'll be the sole protecter of our pantheon if my brothers and sons are too naive to do so. I'll do it for their sake." He looked at the window, "We should go, now. I sense something approaching."
Sigurd wasted no time. He picked up his cutlass from the corner of the room and put it beneath his cloak. Quickly, Viraj slid open the window and out of it, Sigurd following close behind.
He jumped on the head of the snake and stabilized himself. Once Viraj assessed he was ready, he made the serpent take off in a speedy slither.
They got about a mile down the surprisingly quiet streets, when Viraj called over his shoulder, "Do you see another serpent approaching us?!"
Sigurd whipped around and squinted, "Actually...I think there is..."
In the distance he saw a shadow approaching, much faster than they were going currently. It only took about five seconds for it to completely close the distance, and Sigurd saw that it was another snake, a bit brighter in color, and even bigger than the one they rode on. At its head, stood a young warrior, one of the ones that Sigurd saw earlier.
The new snake slithered around and blocked our way, completely curling up in a tight circle with its tail.
Viraj made a grunting noise, "Of course they send my son after us." He called up, "Dipak! Let us pass! We mean no harm!"
The man, who Sigurd guessed was Dipak, did indeed look a lot like Viraj, only no facial hair, and of course much younger and healthier. He shook his head at his father, disappointed. "You leave with him, despite our clear instructions? Father, I thought you were better than this."
"I'm not blind, son. That is all."
Sigurd had no idea what to do. Dipak didn't have to do anything; Sigurd already knew that he was out of his league here. He just hoped and prayed that Viraj wasn't, and he still had some spark left in him. But to take on his much younger, probably stronger son...Sigurd wasn't sure.
He looked genuinely conflicted, but ultimately steeled himself. "I'm sorry for this, father. But I have to take both of you in."
"I cannot let that happen." Viraj said and slammed his palms together. Clasping his fingers, he materialized blue string made of spirit, or rather prana, and pulled on it. When his arms went as far as they could go, the string shifted its form to a longbow. It was as tall as Viraj was, and soon the blue light went away, leaving the texture and solidity of a real bow. Wood, thick string, the entire works.
Dipak drew his sword, roared, and jumped off his snake, which simultaneously attacked his father as well, it's enormous jaw wide open, long fangs threatening to eat the entire city block.
But Viraj was calm and collected. Just above a whisper, he uttered, "Ninda."
Sigurd furrowed his eyebrows. It sounded like he said 'neen' which Sigurd identified as the word 'sleep' in English. Was he casting a spell?
Surely enough, right after he spoke the word, the snake's eyes snapped shut and it fell over on the ground, leaving a few cracks in the stone and making a very loud noise. Loud enough for Sigurd to worry if they were attracting attention.
But Dipak either didn't notice, or didn't care. He was mid-flight, about the slam his sword on his father's head it seemed, when Viraj pulled the longbow string back and said, "Tira." Again, it sounded like he'd said something different, like he said 'tea.' But Sigurd recognized it as 'arrow.'
A bright blue line instantly appeared in Viraj's longbow, at the end of it, a sharp, triangular point materialized, forming an arrow of prana. Sigurd could feel it's power oozing, it was almost enough to make him want to run and cover his eyes. It was impossibly bright, and it even made a strange sound, like a video game when you found a special item.
He let go of the string and the arrow launched itself at a speed Sigurd couldn't even keep up with, meaning it was far beyond the speed of light. For Sigurd it instantly reappeared in Dipak's stomach. The shockwave was peaceful and quiet, forming a wide ring around the warrior like a planet's ring would. It more so reminded Sigurd of a ripple in water, when you drop a pebble into a pond.
His son was about to be launched back into miles of oblivion, but Viraj made a slight pulling motion with his finger, and Dipak actually came forward a little. Then just as quickly, Viraj snapped his fingers, and the arrow disappeared. The only thing holding his son in the air, so Dipak fell about fifteen feet, face first on the ground.
Sigurd looked over at the unconscious man, then back at Viraj, who was also looking at him, but not worried a bit.
"He'll be fine. That was a weaker arrow."
"Weaker?" Sigurd was incredulous, "That was quite impressive. I didn't...I didn't expect-"
"Me to be able to handle him?" Viraj chuckled, "I don't blame you. I am old, and unfortunately in this pantheon, power decreases with age."
"You mean you were once more powerful?"
"Oh yes. I was the second strongest of the Order in my time. Behind my older brother of course. He was unstoppable." He gestured to Dipak, "No, Dipak is a young warrior, and my youngest child. If it were one of the older ones, or if they sent more men, then we'd be in serious trouble. But let's not talk it up. Words have power, you know."
Sigurd noted that he said was, as in his older brother was most likely gone. He decided not to bring it up, and really couldn't, because the sudden lurch that the snake's dive caused cut Sigurd's voice box off. He was able to get out, "Oh yes, they certainly do."
The city was growing smaller now, and freedom was just up ahead. Viraj looked back one more time, "I'll be back soon, but for now, I'm going to have to lay low, and keep in touch with you."
Sigurd nodded, "Of course. I use ravens for communication. Just letting you know."
"That's fine. I'm more used to monkeys, so it will be nice to see something different." Viraj pointed ahead, "We'll go until we reach the outskirts, then we'll part ways. But I'll say it again, you have my support. When you need me, I shall come."
Sigurd reached for his hand, but Viraj shook his head, put his hands together gently, and bowed a little.
Sigurd did the same, "Thank you."
As the city (and a few frightened mortals) passed by, the son of Odin couldn't help but smile to himself. Viraj was a good man. He didn't quite get what he expected, but somehow...Sigurd liked it this way better.
(000)