But if people were taking it literally, that did go a long way toward explaining why most people weren’t quite as obsessed with bringing back their deceased family members as I was.
Was there something wrong with me?
It wasn’t that I didn’t believe that the goddess existed. I’d seen the spires, earned an attunement, and even met one of her visages in person.
I just couldn’t square the idea of the same entity that makes spires with murderous traps and monsters also being benevolent enough to care for the spirits of the dead in some kind of utopian afterlife.
If Selys was capable of making a utopian kingdom at all, why not extend that to all of us?
I’d read the scriptures for their answers, of course. The idea of adversity testing our resolve and building us into better people. Some verses even indicated that the trials that one underwent in life would help to dictate the specific roles of spirits in the goddess’ kingdom, or even in subsequent lives.
But none of that addressed the inherent unfairness of the mortal world.
A goddess with Selys’ obvious power could be doing more.
I remember reading in the scriptures about the early days when the goddess wrought miracles. Turned rivers aside and made whole lands fertile. She walked the lands in person, healing the injured and curing the diseased.
Then she raised the spires, and the miracles stopped. She’d done her good deeds and turned to playing games with human lives.
Even if the spires had some sort of value for strengthening the spirit, I sincerely doubted that there was any spiritual benefit for the children who died from famine or disease.
If there was any truth to the legends of her miracles, she had the power to stop those tragedies from occurring.
From that, I concluded that she either had chosen to stop helping us, or that she’d never truly had that power at all.
The most charitable interpretation I could devise was that she’d used up some of her power making the spires. That seemed like a good deal of effort, even for a deity.
If the spires had purely served as a way to give out magic to humanity, I might have even called that a benevolent decision. But with tens of thousands of people that entered the spire disappearing each year, I had a hard time believing yet.
And even if the spires were purely meant to help us… Maybe she could have set up a way to give those of us who’d lost someone some real closure.
There were common answers for all that, too. That it was up to humanity to solve our own problems. To prove ourselves and grow as a species.
It had always come across to me like a king telling a pauper that he just needed to try harder.
In other words, complete nonsense.
“Corin? You okay?”
I’d gotten distracted with my own introspection again. “Sorry. I’m just…processing.”
“I understand. It has to be a lot to take in. But you were right this whole time, Corin. Your brother is out there. You should feel vindicated by that.”
I didn’t like other people telling me how I should feel, but I knew Patrick was only trying to cheer me up, and I was grateful for that. I took a breath. “It’s…he’s not like what I expected.”
Patrick gave me a sympathetic look. “Of course he’s changed. It’s been five years, and who knows what he’s been through in there?”
“Yeah. I just… I guess I wasn’t expecting things to go this way. I think I’ll be okay, I just need to adjust my plans a bit.” My words sounded hollow, but I tried to believe them.
“Okay, good. Just let me know if you need anything, okay? If you need to rescue Tristan from the spire, I’ll be glad to help!”
I gave a little laugh at that. “Thanks, Patrick.” I paused for a minute, then added, “You’re a good friend. I don’t deserve you.”
Patrick scoffed. “That’s silly. You always used to stick up for me when we were little. Friends help each other out. That’s what we’re here for.”
“Thanks.” I took a breath. “I think I need a little time to myself, if you don’t mind.”
“Of course. If you need me, though, you know where to find me.”
I nodded and waved. Patrick left the room.
The conversation should have helped. It was nice to know that Patrick was there to help me if I needed it.
But he was right — I wasn’t happy about what I’d learned about Tristan.
It wasn’t just that things hadn’t gone the way I’d expected, although I had to admit that was a part of it.
It was the sinking feeling that the person I’d been talking to was Tristan, but that he was so far from the brother I’d lost that I wouldn’t recognize him.
It was the nagging worry that whatever Tristan had become after five years away was not the type of person that I could trust.
And, perhaps, that he might even end up being my enemy.
Questions, frustrations, and scenarios wouldn’t stop running through my mind. Morning light was pouring in my window before I finally slept.
I woke to the sound of clashing steel.
I literally rolled out of my bed, drawing Selys-Lyann in a single motion.
If Orden had seen that the first time she’d tested me with that midnight ambush, she might have been impressed.
There were no intruders in my room. The sound of metal was coming from above me.
I rushed out the door still wearing my night clothes. I had my phoenix sigil pinned to my pants, so I wasn’t completely defenseless if we were under attack.
I found a stairwell leading up, terminating at a hatch. The sounds of clashing metal were closer now. I opened it cautiously, keeping my sword in my off-hand.
A blur of motion crossed over the open hatch, too fast for me to follow. I stepped back instinctively, taking a parrying posture, but nothing followed me down.
A glance told me that the hatch led up to the rooftop, which was a flat design of solid stone. This mansion was built less like a standard house and more like a small fortress.
I pulled myself up onto the rooftop, taking a defensive pose.
A black-garbed man flashed past me, swinging his sword in a broad arc. A shockwave ripped out of his blade, arcing toward his opponent. As he twitched his left hand a moment later, the shockwave split apart into six separate projectiles.
On the opposite side of the roof, Derek calmly swiveled on his heel, cutting apart the projectiles with a sword in either hand. He had a smirk on his face. “That the best you can do?”
His attacker, Keras Selyrian, raised a hand to his chin. “No, but I’m not sure if you could handle anything more. After all, you’re unarmed.”
Derek’s twin swords — ordinary training swords, not magical ones — fell to pieces.
To my left side, I heard Patrick and Marissa laugh. They were sitting with plates on their laps and a bottle of liquid between them.
Sera was standing a few feet away, watching the exchange with folded arms, but her eyes were curious.
Patrick turned to me almost immediately. “Hey, you’re awake! Come sit, they’re just getting started.”
I groaned as I realized what I was witnessing.
Yesterday, Keras had made a remark about taking Derek up to the roof.
Apparently, that hadn’t been a joke.
I was half-tempted to just go back downstairs and pull a pillow over my eyes, but my stomach grumbled at the sight of the plates in front of Patrick and Marissa. “…Is there extra food?”
Patrick waved me over. “I’ll share and we can get more downstairs later.” He patted the rooftop next to him. “C’mon.”