I read that Godlikes were in some parts of the world shunned upon, even feared. It was food for thought.

Feedback is welcome, but remember; English is not my mother-language, so faults can occur. Though I try my best to minimize them.

Chapter 04

"I'm sorry what happened to you," Maryden said to the Lost Spirit of a priest, its essence floating in front of them and casting a purplish hue on their surroundings that seemed to emanate from itself.

Fear wafted of the spirit in waves, fraying at her own emotions. She understood its distress after it had shown her what its last waking moments were; in the dark with fellow priests realizing that no one was going to rescue them, and that it would die here. This was the third priest she had encountered the spirit from, and they'd all ended in this same horrible way.

"I hope you find some piece in the next life. I will confront Wirtan, I promise."

A wave of comforted fear washed over her and the spirit settled back in the skeletal remains from where it came from, the glowing purplish light disappearing with it. Maryden exhaled and bent down to collect them in a large bag that was already half-filled with the remained of the others. She was careful not to damage the bones out of respect.

"No matter how many times I see you staring off at nothing, it doesn't get any less weird," Edér said, scratching the back of his head. Maryden did not reply to that except shrugging her shoulders; it still weirded her out too. She straightened up and hoisted the bag of the remains of the Eothasian priests over her shoulder.

"What did the spirit told you?" Aloth asked, the torch that he held casting sharp shadows across his features.

Maryden sighed and rubbed her forehead, the upcoming headache was an expected symptom; it seem to happen every time she looked into the past of another.

"They were running, hiding. Wirtan locked them up and promised to get them when the coast was clear," she started. Her voice was soft and mournful. "But he never did." Edér cursed at her words and ran a hand through his hair.

"That lying-," he did not finish his sentence. Maryden gave him a compassionate look and the party started to venture up again, towards the entrance of the temple, in silence.

She had discovered in this short period of time that Edér had served in the Saints War, against Waidwen despite that he was a fellow Eothasian. His brother Woden had also enlisted. They'd both figured that the God of Forgiveness would never go to war, so St. Waidwen couldn't be his human vessel. But after Waidwen had 'blown-up' (he didn't spare her the details) Edér had never heard from the God ever since. Despite his prayers.

Because Edér was an Eothasian he was regarded with suspicion in Gilded Vale if the looks that the townspeople gave him could tell, even if they knew that he did not side with Waidwen. Maryden somehow felt bad for him. He gave her the feeling that he was adrift somehow, trapped between two places but never truly seemed to belong anywhere. Maryden could relate to him.

Wirtan jumped up from his spot against the temple wall when he spotted them coming up the stairs. He smiled nervously at them as they approached, a thin sheen of sweat glistening on his forehead.

"Look! I managed to patch myself up a bit; the arm's not bleeding anymore," he showed the bloody limp. His eyes darted to each of their faces, seeming a bit skittish. "You were down there for a while. Did you.. find anything?"

Maryden shared glances with Edér and Aloth before she gently placed down the bag of bones on the ground at her feet. "You lied to us."

Wirtan seemed taken aback by her statement and stuttered a bit in his nervousness. "B-but I told you there were creatures down there and that it could prove to be difficult! I-I can pay you more if they were quite a handful?"

"No."

Wirtan opened his mouth to protest but something in their expressions stopped him. Maryden glared at him, straight in the eyes and he took a small step back in response. Then he sighed, defeated and casted his eyes down to his feet before talking in a small voice. "How? H-how did you..?"

"How could you betray them, Wirtan? They trusted you," Edér began. His deep voice sounding odd.

Wirtan made a wounded noise at that. "Betrayed? I was never one of them! Mad followers of the Shattered God. If I could have chased them all out of town, I.. If," he stammered. Then sighed and began anew.

"I tried to warn them. Every. Single. Day. Lord Raedric would not put up with them any longer and they were in danger, but they did not listen. They did not understand the dangers I took to help them, to make them understand. I could've been arrested alongside them!"

"Wait, did you work for Raedric?" Aloth asked, wanted to clear some up. Wirtan nodded, albeit slowly.

"I used to, but not anymore. It's been a while since I held a sword," he gestured to his bloody arm. "But Raedric eventually ordered us to round them up, lock them in cells. But I didn't want that; so I suggested they hid in the vault, with the old relics and gold and such. I figured that when they got out they could use the gold and relics to buy them passage to safety, to Aedyr."

His expression turned sorrowful and he sat down on the ground, his face buried in his hands. "But when I told the men that the priests were already 'gone', they ordered the temple sealed," he said muffled, his voice cracking a bit. "I couldn't get in again. I couldn't safe them."

Edér eyes had grown wide with disbelief. "Nothing but to tell people, organize a rescue! I would've dug them up with my own bare hands," he said, his deep voice lowering with something akin to anger. "They were one of the last decent people left in this hole, but now we only got people like you," he spat.

"You could have spoken up. Tell Raedric the truth," Maryden murmured. She tried to remain calm, but those last moments of those priests still flashed before her minds-eye.

Wirtan sighed, mournfully and let his hands drop on his lap. "I could have, but I didn't." He looked up at them, cheeks wet with the tears. "Now, I told you what happened," he started with a rough voice. "I guess it's up to you what to do next."

"It's not too late to make amends," Maryden said. She earned a foul look from Edér, but choose not to react.

"But h-how? It's been years!"

"Do you think Wirtan will live up to his promise? Bury the priests in respect and turn his life around?" Aloth asked her, as they walked underneath the archway of Gilded Vale that signaled the end of the village's border. Before they'd left, they had sought out Aufra, Calisca's sister, who was devastated with the news of her unfortunate but glad that she received it.

The woman was with child and scared of it being a Hollowborn. As an oath to Calisca, Maryden had brought it upon herself to help the woman in every way she could. Even if that meant going to Anslög's Compass near the coast to find an old mid-wife named Ranga who supposedly could prevent children to be born Hollow.

"He truly seemed sorry," Maryden began, hoisting her pack higher upon her shoulder to distribute the weight evenly. "So yes; I think he will live up to his promise. He does not look like the man to waste second chances to me."

"You believe in second chances then?"

Aloth looked at her before glancing ahead, to Edér's back who had taken point of their little three-man group. The Elf had a certain tone in his voice that Maryden could not pinpoint, but she nodded and whispered with a heavier heart than she meant to.

"Depends. I used to do it more often.."

"Bad experiences?" Aloth replied a bit hesitantly, as if he was treading on thin ice with her. He was.

"Unfortunately."

When sky had darkened almost completely, the party had covered some descend ground and decided to set up camp. Aloth was currently working on the stew, stirring the brew with a wooden spoon whilst adding some herbs every now and then.

"I will teach Edér what proper food is," he had said after his discussion with the man about Dyrwoodan food and how bland it tasted. Thus, took up the role of cook. Maryden was glad, because she could barely boil an egg, not that she would ever tell that to the guys.

Edér had decided to chop some wood for the fire, as Maryden scouted their environment. Aside from a few deer there wasn't a living thing near them that could pose a threat. They had camped some distance away from the road, to avoid bandits, and with their backs to series of boulders to eliminate the element of surprise.

"I see that dinner is ready?" Maryden posed the question with an upturn of one eyebrow, but with a hint of amusement. Edér and Aloth looked up from their bowls of stew, mouths full. Aloth swallowed thickly before speaking.

"It was ready before, but you took quite some time to get back." He shared a look with Edér. "So we figured to start eating."

"You can tell me that you were too hungry to wait, Aloth," Maryden smiled as she took her own bowl and scooped up some of the spicy smelling goodness into it. Her stomach growled in response. The Elf flustered a bit at her words and nodded, easing his uncomfortable silence by taking another mouthful.

"How is it?" She directed her question to Edér, who knew nothing of the Aedyrian cuisine.

"A bit too much spice, that ruins to flavor of the stew itself. But not bad," he said honestly and took another bit.

Maryden ate the hot stew, liking how it smelled and tasted. It filled her stomach quite nicely and she was more than ready to take up another day of hiking through the forest. She briefly wondered if Aloth had bewitched the stew to make her feel so satisfied.

"You know," Edér began, placing down his wooden bowl before his feet. "At first I was angry at you, for giving Wirtan a chance to redeem himself, but as we walked I thought about it. What kind of man would one be; not allowing people to take second chances just because they made a mistake or something happened they had no influence on."

"One would be a man with faults of his own. Strict and narrow in his thinking, unable to open himself up to the outside world and view the world in with a different and fresh mindset. I pity those kind of men," Maryden whispered softly.

"I almost immediately think of this lord Raedric," Aloth said, scratching his chin in thought. "His actions seemed to have been born out of fear for the Legacy, and because of his fear he rules with an iron fist over Gilded Vale. But he does not seem to acknowledge the consequences of his actions."

"Perhaps one day, someone will stand up and defy him. Giving the people of the Gilded Vale a second chance," Edér replied, lighting his pipe.

'Perhaps, one day..' Maryden repeated it in her thoughts as she cleaned up the kettle and bowls in a nearby stream of water. Gilded Vale feared him, that much was obvious. Perhaps the Lord indeed needed someone to defy him, but why wait until it was too late and the population was either crushed by the despair for their Lord, or murdered because they rioted against his rule.

When she returned to camp, she noticed that only Aloth was sitting there, a thick tome opened on his lap.

"Where's Edér?"

Aloth shrugged and gestured ahead. "He ventured off in that direction, muttering that he had to do something before her forgot. He will be back-" Aloth barely finished his sentence when Maryden walked in the direction he had gestured to. Worried etched its way into her, why she had no idea. He was a warrior, capable of handling himself in dire situations.

Then Maryden noticed him in the distance, kneeling in front of his sword with his forehead almost touching. She stopped, giving him some distance and almost felt like she intruding on something private.

"I know you're there, Maryden."

She flustered about being caught, but when he talked she took a few steps in his direction. "Sorry, I did not mean to intrude. I was just worried."

"Really?" The man smirked at her when he stood up and pulled his blade out of the ground, sheathing it. "Scared that I would run off?"

The hint of amusement in his voice signaled that it wasn't his intention, but Maryden played along and gave him a grin of her own. "Something like that. What were you doing anyway.. if I'm not imposing.." she said hesitating.

Edér walked towards her and glanced back at the spot where he had been kneeling just a moment ago. He seemed in thought. "I was praying for the Eothasian priests, paying my respect as someone who follows the same God." Then he glanced back at her.

"Want to hear something?"

"Uh sure," Maryden said a bit taken back, feeling a bit sheepish. The crows-feet next to Edér eyes wrinkled in mirth as he took in her expression.

"And the sun shall break through the darkness, the new dawn arriving with the rebirth of the day. Rejoice all ye who has dwelleth in the shadow, who are broken and beaten," Edér chanted, his eyes glancing up to the star scattered sky.

His features relaxed as he had allowed the words to guide him and Maryden could almost feel something radiate off of him. It was something serene radiating from his very being, from his soul and she could almost imagine its tendrils reaching out.

"The winter soon comes to an end. Spring shall rise, bringing light and life to the world. Radiant light, radiant life, and thy soul shall find warmth in its arms."

He paused and then smiled as if he remembered something joyful and he looked off in the distant nothingness, engulfed by his own thoughts. It caused Maryden to mimic it in response because it was so genuine.

"GET OUT!"

Maryden stammered back, her hand instantly on her jaw that was already turning red and perhaps even purple. Air was whizzing in her lungs, her heart pumping ferociously because of the adrenaline that coursed through her veins.

She gasped when another fist was hurled at her, ducking away just in time and almost tripped over her own two feet in her haste to scramble away from the man that had once been her father.

"GET OUT!" He bellowed from the top of his lungs. He regarded her with bloodshot brown eyes, his face equally red from rage with a thick vein popping on his forehead.

Behind him, her mother was holding her younger brother protectively. There was a fearful look in both of their eyes, but her mother's green gaze was sharper. Fear had latched onto hate in that emerald gaze of hers, erasing any trace of a mother's loving gaze for her daughter.

When Maryden glanced at her younger brother seeking any sort of help, he squirmed at her gaze and buried his face into his mother's chest, who in turn snarled and snapped at her.

"Haven't you heard him?! Leave and never come back! Abomination," she huffed the final word with resentment.

Her father took another threatening step in her direction, raising large balled fist in the promise of pain if she did not hurry and obey.

Maryden quickly tore open the door of their little cottage and fled. Her bare feet slipping and tripping in the mud as she ran and ran through the small village.

"Abomination!"

"Bitch!"

"Monster!"

Words alike followed her like the souls of the damned, but eventually died down as she managed to flee into the woods. Twigs and pebbles embedded themselves into the soft soles of her feet that had only seen 10 winters pass, growing a bit like her body after each passing day, month and year until she would venture into womanhood.

A root managed to hook onto Maryden, abruptly stopping her flight. She was sent to the ground with a sickening force and despite the moss it was hard and unforgiven for her frail body. There Maryden lay, on the forest floor surrounded by the dark, tall mountain trees of the Living Lands, sobbing in a crumpled mess. Her flaming hair the only light spec in her surroundings.

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