It had been her third 22nd birthday and at that point, Illyria had little care for mortal celebrations of birth. After all, her birthday would change with each lifetime and would be forgotten as she became older.
Instead of spending her time with her current friends and family, Illyria had left the city to hunt. her first weapon designs had been rudimentary; shards of clay held only by a bit of cloth. Now, she had something much better. A little flint firmly attached to a woven hilt; much easier to hold. Earlier today, she had been approached by a god calling itself Izgalmo, about being her prophet. On the matter, Illyria had not yet decided. True, it had its perks, but to be tied permanently to a god could be monotonous. She knew of Iliseth's priests, how they spent their lives in worship of the Creator. Like anyone else, she gave a little prayer here and there, but to do that for the rest of eternity sounded boring beyond compare. She was an inventor of renown, not some preacher!
It was while going down this train of thought, that she noticed a puppet* strolling out of the forest for a drink from the stream Illyria had been hiding. With not even a thought, she stealthily made her way for the creature, ready to take its life. She was always surprised how easy it was to kill these things; they never noticed you till you were right behind them. With a quick lunge, the thing was dead. She prepared to skin it; a hat for her sister perhaps.
"A worthy kill." Illyria remembered that voice. She smiled and looked across the stream. There in the flesh, or whatever passed for a god, was old Mavnon herself!
"I thought you said I was on my own now?" Illyria said coyly.
"And so I did. I see you have been busy. How fares your mother?"
"Why Angie? She's-" before she could react, Mavnon shifted her matter, appearing to her side.
"If I were your foe, you would be dead by now."
"You never change master." With a smile, she struck the deity's chest and pushed him to the ground. Just like in ages gone by, the master and the apprentice sparred.
...
By the time they finished the sun was high above. Illyria had missed these moments with her master. Back then, she couldn't understand what Mavnon was trying to teach her. He would always make sure she slept in the cold, gave her food to beggars and spend her days in piss. Only now in her immortality, did she understand the point of it all.
"So tell me, why did you come to see me?"
"We both know my brother Izgalmo came to see you recently. Have you pondered on his offer?"
"I'm still thinking about it."
"Good. A quick pace is the fool's way."
"And a slow pace, will get you killed. I remember the words."
"Then you should also know that Power given is Power not easily ridden.."
"But Power is Power none the less."
"You know what I'm asking you to do then."
"How does this help you at all?"
"Perhaps it does not."
Illyria burst out laughing.
"I'm more likely to become queen of the whole world before I believe that. I'll think about it, like I said. Now, if you don't mind, this pup still needs to be skinned."
And so, finding that Illyria would not yield, decided to spend the rest of the day with her former apprentice.
*a wolf-like rabbit
One day, Mavnon manifested himself on the grandest of Iliseth's temples, making it very obvious to all who she was. Striding into the mud-brick structure, he demanded to see the chief priest. Knowing not to anger a god, he came quickly, even if it was the Creator's rival.
"Explain your beliefs to me. I wish to know what my dear Iliseth is making you do."
Bewildered, frightened and somewhat amused, the priest called for some holy scripts and began the process of teaching a goddess the ways of their faith. By the end of the ordeal, the priest would have aged a decade.
Go to Iliseth's largest temple and make the priest explain their faith to me.
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Topic: Litany of the Void: A God Game (24/⊕∵↯):IC Tick ?:Who art thou? (Read 185757 times)