Chapter 9: Nine
The path they'd followed continued onto the temple grounds, spiraling around the colossal structure to a stairwell that led to an doorway that seemed to have been built to inspire humility in any who entered.
Dotted around the path were statues of long forgotten warriors and mages, figures who had once fought in the war for the very soul of their world, its own name forgotten by the majority of its citizens.
The lessons from his family trickled to mind and Ezekiel whispered, "Reverie."
His hand went unbidden to his sword as he was suddenly overcome by the feeling of being watched and he turned to look back at the forest beyond the light.
Jumping at shadows, he thought.
Members of the Choir came running from a little campsite that had been set up just off the path, jumping at Taniel and giggling at the excitement of seeing their friend.
"Sister Taniel," one of the girls, now dressed in burgundy and green robes, shouted as they all fell to the grass.
Gemma walked over to Ezekiel and whispered, "I hear that the Choir does everything together."
Sighing heavily and ignoring her, he sat on a gleaming black bench and lay his head back, closing his eyes.
"We'll probably have to leave the area now," Gemma said quietly.
One of the Choir's voices bubbled up over the din, "That animal didn't try anything with you, did he? You know what the Fathers always say, mercenaries are wild and uncouth!"
Rolling his eyes, Ezekiel looked up at Gemma, who had walked to stand next to him, and said, "You're probably right. A colony of goblins isn't something normal people can deal with on their own…a flight of knights probably can't do much to get rid of them either…they'll have to call for help."
"And when word gets out for what it is, the Valley will send at least two or three people to wipe out the colony," the elder swordswoman finished.
The girls all stood and started running to the campsite as Ezekiel said, "I've wanted to take a trip back out to the desert."
Gemma nodded and said, "It'd be nice to have company on the way there, Azael."
Raising an eyebrow and looking out at the entrance to the temple grounds, Ezekiel smiled gently as the air rippled gently and the unknowingly famous private eye stepped toward them, his invisibility dropping as he did.
Azael was a conundrum in Vaen, appearing several years back and doing all kinds of work for modest pay…seemingly just enough to keep a room over the bar he frequented.
Very few knew much about him, beyond the fact that Geng vouched for him, which got him all kinds of work doing things that many might shy away from.
After he'd saved several children from a local, Ezekiel had spent a few days looking into him out of curiosity. The job request would normally have gone to a mercenary, but they'd been out of town doing other work when it had gone up, only to find the children safe and mostly in one piece.
The ways of magic had many paths and some of them required live sacrifice to work consistently…yet another reason Ezekiel disliked the arcane.
"How long," the man asked from beneath a hat that kept the light from his eyes, his overcoat flowing as though it were caught in a breeze.
The dead air actually concerned Ezekiel, but he kept the thought to himself.
Gemma laughed gruffly and said, "When we left the bar. I spotted your fairy before we entered and I was hoping to have a word with you, see if you wanted to join. You were talking with Geng and I didn't want to interrupt."
A look of surprise flooded his half visible face and he asked, "You knew I was there?"
"Its always wise to be aware of your surroundings, don't you think," she said, a mischievous look on her face.
"A Songstress garners attention in a place like Vaen, you'd be surprised how many people watch for an opportunity…of any kind," he said darkly.
The Choir shrieked in the distance and all three of them looked, suddenly concerned for their safety despite where they were.
Taniel had lifted her robes up to change into her ceremonial garb, revealing surprisingly voluptuous curves.
Ezekiel blushed hard and looked away, though he noticed he was the only one.
Gemma looked at Azael and asked, "Is it true what they say about the Choir?"
The man rolled tired eyes and said, "Yes."
"Ha!"
Ezekiel stood up and began looking around the temple grounds, partly to avoid looking at Taniel again, looking for the source of his steadily growing unease.
Something was wrong here, and he set about to find it.
As he searched, he heard the girls singing playfully and talking to Gemma and Azael from afar, concern absent from their voices.
What was bothering him?
Each statue stood atop a black glass circle that seemed to glow gently in the light, their function unclear.
The light was…dimmer than he'd expected, but there could be a number of reasons for that.
What was it?
What had him on edge?
Nobody else seemed to be worried, not even Gemma, who was usually most on guard in places they'd never been.
The air was stale to him, as though it hadn't been disturbed in centuries, but that didn't make sense. The temple grounds stood open to the sky, air flowing easily from forest to sky, but he couldn't get the taste out of his mouth.
Stagnance.
Ezekiel, obviously, wasn't a very religious person, but even he could feel the presence of divinity in the grounds.
The gods were real, and there were far more of them than the Church seemed willing to admit. The very temple they planned to use for this ritual was proof of that, though somehow he doubted they cared about any perceived sacrilege.
Flight was presided over by several goddesses in actuality, being a derivative of air and sky, something that his homeland treated with respect.
Air and sky affected crops, and the last thing anyone wanted was a pissed off goddess killing them.
The feeling of stagnance grew to a sense of loss as he thought about his home, and that feeling drew him to an area just off of the temple grounds, back within the shade of the trees.
Soundless words called him, a melody drifting from the gloom that seemed to be audible only to him, invisible hands that crawled along his skin and carried him closer by his throat.
Closer to what though?
Pitch black surrounded him, the light of the temple grounds a distant and near forgotten memory. Even the dim light of the forest faded to nothing around him, leaving him in a boundless void, empty space as far as his exceptional eyes could see.
Still wandering forward in an ever deepening sense of loss, Ezekiel wandered for days, weeks, months, maybe even years, tears flowing freely down his face, leaving rivers as he walked.
It watched him.
It longed for him.
It led him.
He craved it.
It sang lovingly for him, awkward at first, but slowly learning with a throat newly grown just for him.
It offered itself to him, body and soul and as he walked through the hallowed halls of eternity, he accepted it.
Then he found what had called him.
The empty melody ceased as he came upon dim and flickering silver light that glowed up from the ground before him.
He leaned forward and fell to his knees before it, cupping it as though to protect it.
As he placed his hands upon it, a thought came to mind unbidden.
Goblins are born in places that have witnessed terrible tragedy.
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