Mark of the Fool

Chapter 881: Blessings on Thameland

“W-what is this?” a soldier cried.

Holy light radiated from the Cave of the Traveller, illuminating the army’s fort, and the Coille Forest.

Ravener-spawn cringed away from that light, fangs clenched as if in pain.

A gentle wind caressed the forest, contrasting the sharp cries coming from the Cave.

“Something’s happening in here!” a soldier shouted from inside. “It’s the portals!” Throughout the inner temple and portal chamber below, holy light blazed, surrounding the soldiers in its comforting embrace.

A woman clad in white robes took shape, soldiers shielded their eyes from her radiance.

“Who is that?” a priest cried.

“She looks like a deity!” another answered.

“By all the heavens…” another gasped. “Is…that the Traveller?”

Hannah looked upon the Thameish defenders.

“Yes, I am the Traveller, and I thank you for protecting my home,” she said, her voice as gentle as the dawn, yet as powerful as thunder. “In return, I shall protect you all.”

Raising her hands, she fixed the Ravener-spawn filling the Coille with a disapproving glare. The fire in her lantern flared.

And the spawn were gone.

Elsewhere, far away in the universe, a blue sungained more company for an instant.

Only for an instant, as the monsters burned.

“All will be well,” the Traveller promised. “I’m here now, and I will aid you while the Heroes end this fight. I have to go, but my blessing will be with you.”

She extended her hand, reaching toward those defending the Cave of the Traveller. Power sheathed the soldiers, both inside and out, leaving them aglow with her holy light. “All will be well.”

Hannah vanished and cheers rose into the sky.

“Keep the pressure on that wound, Paul! Keep it on there!” Peter shouted.

The two guardsmen stumbled through the streets of Alric, Paul was draped across Peter’s shoulder. The injured man was supposed to be pressing on a deep wound he’d taken from a Venom Walker, and the pair were struggling to reach a medical tent in the centre of town.

The wound had been partly tended to, considering the priests on the wall were all but totally spent. They had been healing soldiers for the entire battle, drawing upon more and more of their divinity.

Now—that morning was here—they were trying to preserve their strength by only healing injuries to the extent of keeping the wounded alive. After that, it was left to the injured to make their way to the medical tent in the centre of town where fresher priests were waiting in reserve.

But, Paul’s wound was teeming with venom…Peter wondered if he would survive for much longer.

The injured soldier’s eyes were glassy, he was muttering endlessly, spewing mostly incoherent whispers.

His eyes were moist with tears.

“I’m cold, Peter,” the wounded guard gasped. “So cold.”

“I didn’t hear that!” Peter snapped. “You just hold on. Look, we’re at the fountain! It’s not much further to the medical tent! You can make it! Just hold on!”

The guard, doing his best to bear his comrade, passed beside the fountain in the town square.

The statues of Thameland’s five Heroes stood in silent vigil, stony eyes seeming to watch the two guards struggling for survival. Coins long tossed into the fountain’s basin were obscured; the murky water was now choked with blood and ash.

High above, monsters screeched and roared, perhaps mocking the struggling pair.

Blood-draks and spear-flies swooped above, swarming the outer walls even as non-flyers gripped stone, trying to scale it. The golems that Alex Roth had left behind to defend the town, fired their strange weapons repeatedly…but there were too few of them.

Peter feared, deep in his heart, that the town would fall.

And soon.

“Come on,” he pleaded with Paul. The wounded man was trembling now. “Listen. I’m sure the Heroes are going to beat the Ravener soon. We just have to stay alive long enough to see it. So just stay alive, okay?”

Paul groaned, suddenly tumbling from Peter’s shoulder, his body landing against the fountain.

“Damn it, Paul!” Peter snapped, trying to pull his friend up. “Stop it! We’re almost at the tent! Don’t fall! Don’t give up now!”

“I…” Paul’s eyelids flickered, he tried forcing his glassy eyes to look up. “Peter…I see…”

“You’d better see yourself getting up!” Peter tried dragging Paul to his feet, but his friend was dead weight, and he was too tired.

So, tired.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

So, very tired.

“Look…” Paul raised his chin to the sky. “…that lantern. …the Traveller.”

“The Traveller’s dead, and don’t you go joining her yet, mate!” Peter tried lifting his friend again. His muscles trembled with strain.

“Turn around, look,” Paul muttered.

“You’re getting delirious!” Peter shouted. “Just wake…up!”

The guard paused, jumping back as the murky water in the fountain began to clear; ash and blood were washing away, leaving it crystal clear. What was once cloudy and foul, now shimmered in the morning sunlight…and the light of something else.

“What in the…” Peter murmured, squinting at his reflection in the water. In the fountain’s basin—coins glimmered beneath the surface—the image of an ageless woman with dark hair, wearing white robes, shimmered. She was holding a lantern.

Peter whirled, looking up.

“Are you a ghost…?”

Hovering high above them, floating peacefully there was the same image. She looked tranquil, just like how he imagined a deity; a goddess would look.

A Saint.

Peter fell to his knees.

“It’s…” was all he could say.

“I am the Traveller,” the woman’s voice—gentle, yet thunderous—echoed over earth and sky. “All will be well.” She looked down at the horde of Ravener-spawn scornfully, as though she was seeing filth by the side of the road. “They have no business being here. This is your home, this is my home, not theirs!”

Her eyes flashed.

She waved her hand.

Scores of Ravener-spawn vanished, disappearing as though they’d never been.

She turned, waving her hand over the town.

Divine light drifted from her, flowing overAlric, wrapping it in her power.

Strength flooded Peter’s limbs.

Fatigue fled.

His back straightened.

Against the fountain, Paul shuddered as greying, clammy flesh returned to normal. Poison boiled from his festering wound, closing in an instant, leaving only healthy skin behind.

Clarity returned to the guard’s eyes as he sprang to his feet.

“Oh, by the Traveller,” he whispered. “I’m alive! I’m going to live!”

“You have my blessing, now and always,” the Traveller whispered. “Now I must go, much of Thameland still needs my help. Have faith in the Heroes, children of Thameland. All will be well.”

As she vanished, an elated cry rose in Alric, one filled with newfound hope.

Peter and Paul looked at each other, relieved.

Both were speechless.

Birger whipped a stone into the tunnel, watching it strike a bone-charger, cracking its skull.

But, there were dozens more spawn where that one came from.

The tunnel ahead was overrun with Ravener-spawn, and the warriors of Greymoor were desperately fighting them.

“Well, Kelda,” Birger muttered. “If your soul was still whole, I think I’d be meeting you in the after-world soon enough. Traveller, just make sure my son stays safe.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” a woman whispered beside him.

Light blazed through the tunnel and the horde of monsters disappeared.

Birger slowly turned, holy light washing over him.

But the woman—if there had been a woman beside him—was gone, leaving holy radiance where she’d just been.

“What in all the hells?” he wondered aloud. “What was that?”

He turned to two of his companions.

Svenia looked as though she’d seen a ghost.

Hogarth’s mouth was opening and closing like a dying fish. “Think…think maybe we just saw a miracle?”

Kybas glared at the empty tunnel in front of him, hands on his hips.

Nearby, Harmless growled, snapping at the air with reptilian eyes rolling in annoyance.

“I know, that was rude! Some lady just came and took away your dinner!” the little goblin complained.

Ripp stared at him. “Y’know, I think I’m fine with this development. They can all disappear for all I care. After this, I might disappear: maybe I’ll retire.”

“Well, that’s remarkable,” Hobb muttered, watching the blasted wasteland beyond the Castle walls.

The dusty plain was piled high with Ravener-spawn bodies.

Many had been reduced to primordial ooze at the greater shoggoth’s touch.

Others had been destroyed by the Watchers’ powerful spells.

And, among them, were hordes of monsters that Hobb had done…unspeakable things to.

Professor Jules was quite sure she’d have nightmares for years after witnessing his work.

“What’s remarkable?” she asked, gladly looking away from the devastated Ravener-spawn.

“That divine energy. It’s unmistakably palpable in the air all around here,” Hobb said, looking around in curiosity. His nostrils flared as he took a deep breath. “It’s fresh and pure, too. …like that of a newborn godling, untainted by the endless passing of time, or the selfish paranoia of older deities.”

“What are you talking about?” Gemini asked.

Professor Jules frowned. “I wonder—” fгeewёbnoѵel.cσm

“The Ravener-spawn!” someone shouted from the courtyard. “Many just vanished from the tunnels below the Castle! It’s…there was a woman and…I’ve never seen anything like—Look, she’s over there!”

“Ah, and the newborn appears.” Hobb’s eyes flared with interest.

Professor Jules followed his gaze.

She gasped.

Floating above the aeld tree in the middle of the courtyard was a woman in white robes with long black hair.

A woman similar to an image she’d seen in old Thameish books.

“The Traveller…” the professor whispered. “I…Alex did it. He really bloody-well did it. All of Thameland did.”

Hobb looked sharply at Jules. “Did what?”

Professor Jules’ eyes fixed on the silent goddess. “They helped bring a goddess from the after-world.”

“They did what?” Hobb demanded, his red eyes growing wide as he looked down at the goddess.

His expression changed, watching her as though he was looking through her…as though he was trying to see something else.

“The after-world? But…the veil between this world and the after-world…” he trailed off. “This changes things. It changes many, many things.”

As he said those words, the ‘newborn’ goddess opened her eyes, they blazed like miniature suns. “Like me, you’ve all come from far away to defend Thameland. I can never thank you enough for this.”

She waved her hand, divine light emanating from her. Radiance washed over the Castle, touching every living soul, wrapping them in nimbuses of divine power.

“You all have my blessing,” she said, her voice cutting through the din of battle. “And my protection.”

She paused, looking down at the glowing aeld tree below her. She smiled.

“If that is what you want,” she said.

Raising a hand, she grasped the air.

Several aeld leaves shuddered on the tree’s branches, before detaching and flying in a swarm to the goddess’ hand. They whirled around it, forming a circle like a miniature tornado, weaving together…

…taking the shape of a lantern.

The Traveller touched the new lantern to the other one she was holding, and fire leapt from one lantern to the other.

With new life, the second flame blazed in the leaf lantern—not burning the leaves in the least—as the Traveller reached down, fixing the light to a tree branch.

“You will carry my blessing, little one,” she whispered. “And it will strengthen your own power.” Her attention turned to the residents of Greymoor. “You are now under this aeld tree’s protection and mine as well. You will enjoy increased fortune…but your enemies will suffer great misfortune. Your kindness has made the aeld grateful to you, and I have given it the power to protect you as you have protected it.”

She took a deep breath. “I must go now. I am needed elsewhere. May you all be safe until this is done.”

With that, the goddess vanished.

Councillor Kartika’s jaw hung open. “What did we just see?”

“The birth of a young goddess,” Hobb mused. “One who should be careful.”

“Why is that?” Professor Jules asked.

“Because she is young,” the devil said. “And I sense that she has already used much of her power. If she is not careful, she will exhaust herself in ways that only deities truly can be exhausted. But still, she is providing much to these lands. The mana of your enemy is not deepeningas quickly now.”

“Good,” Professor Jules said. “Then there’s more time. More time for our young friends to finish this…and a greater chance for all of them to come back alive.”

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