ASHES GAME

The senior takes his junior's hand. "A gift of Sky-Father, I remember most faces and names." He shook it twice firmly, released and gestured to Lassara and The Guardian. Lassara was about the same age as Tiger Cunning, as he surmised, and being a meddlesome sort, Draconic Presence began to cogitate on the possibilities there. "This is The Guardian, I think a relic of the Naga. Truly a masterful creation. And young Lassara here is my steadfast companion." He introduced them stepping aside for them to greet the Temple Guardian.

"She has been blessed by Earth Mother, she cannot speak. She made for an ideal spy among numerous other talents." Draconic Presence explained with a fond smile. "And she is one of the finest warriors I know. That is why she was trusted with this critical mission." Draconic Presence patted the Iron Urn at his side, doubtless Tiger Cunning knew exactly what was held within. "After we complete this task. We aim to hunt the wyvern and would be exceedingly grateful for your sword arm." He made sure to phrase this as a request, knowing the exceeding peril in such an undertaking. "You think of this before answering. As for now, we are cold and hungry. May we enter the temple?"

The Guardian nods to Tiger Cunning, registering the appellation 'it' and noting an unfamiliar sensation of discomfiture. 'It, pronoun, denominating a thing, generally an inanimate object. Am I a thing? I suppose I am, yet not inanimate. It...,' finding no other suitable alternatives, the Guardian follows along silently, glowing eyes taking in the details of the temple, autonomically scanning for signs of threats or potential dangers.

"I am a stranger to this time and place and unfamiliar with Lord DEUS. Can you enlighten me?"

The Guardian sits silently observant throughout the course of the ceremonies and the accompanying meal, piecing together the bits of information given by Tiger Cunning and that which can be gleaned about the Deusites and their god from the present situation. It recalls a number of deities and tales of legendary beings possessed of six limbs, many of whom were avatars of justice, retribution or destruction. The hospitality and gastronomic aspects were something new, however. It recalled the lore of Aranya, the spider goddess, but her interpretation of hospitality often involved consuming her guests. It cast its watchful gaze about the hall, looking for signs that might recall that being orother elements of the lore it recalled. In retrospect, the Guardian reflected that she had six arms, but eight limbs…. K’Shiva was another that rang similar, but again the hospitality aspect seemed out of place.

Once more the Guardian’s thoughts turned to the passage of time. How long had it been in the Dreaming? Long enough to grow the spark of consciousness it thought wryly, then marvelled at the awareness of that… feeling? Civilizations rise and fall, evolve and change; cultures and languages as well. Therefore was it not possible for a god to do the same? Or could this DEUS be something new. There was so much to learn, it thought, as it continued to observe and absorb the details of its surroundings.

"All families are the same." Draconic Presence signed back smiling.

He cleared his throat, loudly. "That is enough, we disrespect ourselves when talking behind a man's back. This is a holy place and you are in the presence of royalty." He didn't like being the elder, but it was what it was.

Changing the subject Draconic Presence makes a sound indicating he has something to say. "I was at his side when he died." The cleric said and presented the urn. "Would you like to know what he said in his final moments?"

The Guardian turns its attention to Draconic, nodding respectfully.

He tried at first to speak, and choked on the memory. The death of his friend, his brother, still so heavy to bear.

"Embracing the void, I find virtue my guide, my solace..."

The middle aged Cleric wiped his eyes. The words were beautiful even still, they hurt him still. Wounding him for he knew that he had so much more to clean within his own soul. "I only hope I can die so bravely."