A goddess offers Wraithvine's apprentice mage the ability to resurrect the newly dead. But the price is that their magic, and most of their stamina, is wiped out for the next 24 hours. -- The New Guy
Of offers from the gods is meant to come in crumbling temples. In deserts, where the Divine can find a mind crying out to the stars. In working with Wraithvine, and walking with Wraithvine, he had seen and heard many things.
He never expected to get an offer from the gods in a fallow field.
Mastorava was a glowing shape in the night, appearing as a curvaceous woman made of starlight and swirling chaff. The mother of crops, the queen of the harvest, the guardian of the fallow field. Larger than any woman that Strodius had ever seen. "You seek to change your fate. You seek to alter fate," she said. "You fight against a corruption in this world, and do not fight against the natural order, in that, you have our favour."
"I thank you," said Strodius automatically. "I did not do this for the gods' notice. I'm just trying to do what's right."
"That's why I want to give you a gift," said Mastorava smiled, some seeds and flowers swirling through her ample form. "With your consent, of course."
Oh that was a relief. "What are you offering to me?"
"You saw other students like you unfairly perish. They were sacrifices to feed your old teacher's existence. He will not be defeated by one student. He may yet be defeated by all his past students. Which you may, if you choose to, help rise anew."
"Isn't that a violation of the natural order as well?" he asked.
"Their lives were stolen and he is feeding off their power. Mistress Dark is in agreement. Bring them back with her blessing, and they will take back their power from him."
"There's a price, of course," guessed Strodius.
"Correct," said Mastorava. "One can rise by your hands, provided they have been slaughtered by your former master. It will cost you your energies and magics for a day."
Strodius considered the death toll of his old school. "I could be at that for years."
"We know," said the goddess. "Do you accept?"
He was willing to do the work. "Without a doubt. In a heartbeat."
In a heartbeat, Strodius was knocked flat to the floor of the field. Power filled him, it was true. Yet it was also bleeding out of him. The flow of the seasons and the cycle of life and death ran through his bones. The chill of death. The warmth of rebirth.
He was left gasping and staring at the stars. Stunned that he was still alive. Hypnotised by the way his breath made patterns in the chill night air.
Strodius was exhausted.
And at the same time, he couldn't wait to find the secret grave grounds and begin his work. He hoped that Mastorava or Mistress Dark could show him the way.
Sooner started. Sooner done.
[Photo by Jake Weirick on Unsplash]
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