The New God's Of Avaricia

The cry of astonishment burst forth from Arteus' lips, resonating through the dense foliage as if the very air had been startled from its tranquil embrace. The echo of his voice dissipated into the shadowy abyss of the forest, leaving him to ponder the gravity of Ava's revelation.

It was not long before Castrol and Martin, his companions, emerged from the misty veil of the cascading falls. Their voices, a distant melody of concern, beckoned him forth.

"Ho there, boy! Are you in distress?" Martin's robust tones reverberated through the stillness, his burly form materializing from the enshrouding mist. Castrol, ever the silent sentinel, remained a step behind, his gaze piercing the gloom in search of the source of Arteus' distress.

Yet Arteus, transfixed by the specter of the figures that had retreated into the labyrinthine depths of the forest, paid them no heed. Ava, the enigmatic mage, had vanished in their wake, leaving him to grapple with the profound implications of her words.

-LATER-

The journey through the woodland path led Arteus and the surviving souls of Barley to the outskirts of Sovereign. The city, once a bastion of civilization, now loomed before them, fortified by a wooden palisade that stretched to the horizon. The sun, a crimson orb, cast an eerie glow upon the snowy earth, revealing the remnants of battles long fought and lost. The tranquility of the scene was shattered by the grim reminder of the beasts that had ravaged the lands, their marks of fury etched into the very fabric of the city's defenses.

The decision to forsake their original quest for sustenance in favor of the pilgrimage to Sovereign had not been made lightly. The fleur deer's pelt, a vibrant crimson in hue, had whispered dark secrets of its own, secrets that had sent a shiver down the spines of even the most stoic hunters. The revelation that the other inhabitants of Sovereign had deemed it unsafe to bear such a creature's carcass had not been lost on them. Yet, Ava's assurance that the taint had lifted with the creature's transformation had been met with skepticism. Her claim to divine lineage, though not entirely discarded, had been cast into the murky waters of doubt.

The procession approached Sovereign with trepidation, their steps weary from the trials that had besieged them thus far. The once-thriving city had been reduced to a mere whisper of its former grandeur, yet it remained a bastion of hope amidst the chaos. The children, though their eyes were filled with fear, clung to the belief that perhaps within these wooden confines, a semblance of peace could be found.

As they drew closer to the city's heart, the evidence of the savage world outside grew ever more apparent. The wooden barricades bore the marks of frenzied claws and teeth, a testament to the relentless sieges that had been waged upon the city. The horns of rebirth, whose melody had heralded such horror, remained an enigma, a dark force lurking just beyond the grasp of understanding.

Upon entering the city, the stark contrast between the desolate lands they had traversed and the bustling streets of Sovereign was a balm to their weary souls. The laughter of children, a symphony of innocence, filled the air, a stark counterpoint to the cries of the beasts that haunted the periphery. The very essence of the place seemed to belie the dire circumstances that had driven them from their homes.

The grandeur of Sovereign's architecture was not lost on Arteus. The city, though now a mere shadow of its former glory, boasted a complexity and scale that dwarfed the humble abodes of Barley. The cobblestone streets, though now marred by the ravages of time and conflict, spoke of a civilization that had once flourished.

The eyes of the city's inhabitants, however, bore into them like the cold gaze of a specter. They walked with their heads bowed, an unspoken acknowledgment of the horrors that had befallen their land. Yet, amidst this somber tapestry, Ava moved with the grace of a deity, her presence eliciting reverent bows from the very people she claimed to protect.

"Welcome, travelers," a gruff yet authoritative voice called from the city's center. "You come in the name of the Goddess Garnet?"

The speaker, a robust woman of middle years, approached with the gait of one accustomed to command. She introduced herself as Kathleen Bower, the lady of the city, and her son Samuel, a towering giant of a man whose bald pate gleamed in the waning light stood beside her/

"Lord?" Arteus mused upon hearing her title.

"Indeed," she responded, her smile a grim reminder of the world's harsh realities.

The reunion between Millie and Kathleen brought forth a warmth that seemed to defy the icy embrace of despair that had clung to them for so long. Their shared past, a testament to the resilience of the human spirit, shone through their greeting like a beacon in the night.

"What brings you to Sovereign?" Kathleen inquired, her eyes scanning the tattered and weary group.

"What does not?" Millie retorted with a forced joviality. "The world has turned to ash and we thought we might find solace in the embrace of the thieves and whores of your fair city."

Kathleen's smile grew broader, the warmth in her eyes belying the gravity of her words.

"Ah, Millie, always one for a jest. But we must put aside our pride in times such as these. You are all welcome here." She said softly.

"Since you are in charge, I take it old Roger has shuffled off this mortal coil?" Millie asked, her curiosity piqued.

"Indeed," Kathleen replied, her eyes misting over. "But do not mourn him overly. His was a gentle exit from this harsh world."

The mention of Roger, the city's former lord, brought a somber note to their exchange. His peaceful passing, a rare event in these tumultuous times, served as a poignant reminder of the fleeting nature of life.

The solemnity of the moment was shattered by the practical need to address the immediate.

"Come," Kathleen beckoned, "Let us attend to your needs. Food, water, and shelter await within."

The town hall, a bastion of order amidst the chaos, swallowed the weary travelers as they were led inside. The clamor of activity washed over them, a symphony of life that seemed almost obscene in the face of the destruction they had witnessed. Yet, amidst the flurry of welcoming hands and comforting whispers, a shadowy figure remained just beyond the periphery of Arteus' vision.

Ava, the self-proclaimed goddess, stood in a huddle with the one they had cast out from their midst, the pariah of Barley, Tobias Kingg. The sight of them together, heads bent in furtive conference, sent a cold shiver down Arteus' spine. What alliance could such disparate souls possibly forge? What dark secrets did they share?

-To Be Continued-