There were three things going through Arkk’s head.
The first being that rituals were overrated. It was no wonder that most spellcasters avoided them in favor of spoken incantations. The academies maintained lectures on rituals more as a historical feat than for practical applications. Incantations were limited, they could only enact one effect and couldn’t be easily altered without rewriting the entire incantation, but they were typically safe because of that.
Arkk struggled to come up with a ritual he had seen that hadn’t gone horribly wrong at one point or another.
The next thought was a bit more pressing, occupying a significant portion of his thoughts. He had inadvertently doomed them all—the whole world, even other planes. Enacting the powers of Xel’atriss while Xel’atriss hung overhead clearly had not been the best idea. The sky was on fire and it was somehow his fault.
His final thought was that nobody was screaming and dying from the fire. In fact, it felt quite cool. A breeze blew past, soft and gentle as if today were just another day with nothing out of the ordinary going on. Perhaps, just perhaps, this was all intentional. Or an illusion.
He pulled his gaze down from the sky. Most faces around him were concerned on some level, but not all. The thin smile on Vezta’s face didn’t look strained or distressed. Zullie, though looking somewhat confused, wasn’t panicking. He wasn’t sure if she knew what was going on. Her method of perceiving the world around her didn’t quite align with regular people. It was closer to what Priscilla had—some kind of instinctive sense for certain things deemed important enough by higher powers.
This seemed pretty important to him, but what did gods consider important, exactly?
“Vezta?” he said, looking back to his long-time companion. She was the odder of the two at the moment, smiling as she was. And she had said something just now. Something about lines being drawn. “Do you know something?” he asked as calmly as he could manage.
The gentle breeze had done something to calm him. A little note of normality amid the chaos overhead.
Or, with a scowl upward, a hint of divine intervention. He really didn’t see himself being so calm otherwise.
Vezta didn’t respond, however. Not before Zullie shouted out fresh orders to the ritual participants. “Maintain connection! Don’t get distracted. If we stop now, it will be a disaster.”
Arkk closed his eyes, forcing his head back down. Like this, he could almost pretend nothing was wrong. The ritual circle was still pulling magic from him, it had been doing so at a steady rate ever since they started. Checking through the employee link, he quickly realized that very few of the others were following his lead.
“You heard the witch,” he shouted, putting a great deal of aggression into his tone. “Focus people. Sylvara! Agnete! Your sides of the array are dimming.”
His voice sent a jolt through the people, both those participating and those outside the ritual circle, monitoring or simply waiting for any sign of demonic incursion. The lines in the ground around Sylvara and Agnete got a jolt of magic to return them to their proper luminosity. They almost put in too much, but quickly steadied themselves out.
“We’re halfway through,” Zullie said. “I don’t know what you all are panicking over, but it is likely to get worse before it gets better. Everything up to this moment was fairly well-discussed, some parts even got tested over the last year. Now, we’re entering experimental territory.”
Arkk did not like the sound of that. Yet, before he could get worked up over her phrasing, that calming smell tickled his nose. It almost smelled like freshly baked bread coming out of the oven. A little reminder of his youth in Langleey Village when Alya had baked for him and Ilya.
He narrowed his eyes, shaking off the calm with a look up at the violet moon, untouched by the flames burning the sky. Once was happenstance, but two oddly calming sensations? It still didn’t feel like the way Xel’atriss manipulated the boundaries of his knowledge during their first encounter, but he wasn’t pulled into her presence this time around.
From the clenched teeth and tense shoulders on Ilya to the way Lyra Zann kept scanning over the ritual circle as if trying to identify a fault, he was the only one who was getting these calm flashes. Why? Even Zullie was worked up and she seemed to be one step away from an avatar. Was it because of their first encounter? He had conversed with the deity, spoken to her, asked for a boon, and even received that boon.
Zullie shouted something. A warning, perhaps. Her voice sounded distant somehow. Less important.
It was less important. Even a crackle of arching magic racing across the surface of the ritual circle wasn’t important.
They had a connection, he and Xel’atriss. It was tenuous at best. One born by coincidence and unintentional intrusion upon her domain. Even an avatar couldn’t operate on the same level as a god and Arkk was no avatar. Yet…
The void surrounding the violet moon rippled. It encroached upon the flaming sky, consuming the fire, stretching outward like an eye opening wider.
“Arkk.”
Vezta shifted and changed, manipulating her unique, tar-like biology to grow a little taller, to place herself between him and the moon overhead without leaving her position in the ritual.
She didn’t say anything more. She didn’t need to.
“Close your eyes!” Arkk shouted, realizing what was about to happen. “Do not open them unless you want to end up like Zullie!”
The void continued to stretch wide, enveloping the entirety of the sky. Yet, at the same time, the world felt like it was shrinking. The distant mountains shrank down and the trees and buildings in their burgeoning village twisted away, moving like they were tipping over yet without that final crash as they struck the ground. Savren, Kia, Claire, and everyone else outside the ritual circle warped, unmoving yet diminishing as if they stood aboard ships sailing over the horizon.
The ritual circle stood alone, rounded completely to make one side touch the other, as if it were its own planet in the void, slowly orbiting the larger violet moon. He could still see everyone. It was like his vision was bending around the sphere.
Everyone except Zullie had their heads down. They were following his instructions, keeping their eyes closed. A tremble in Ilya’s arms betrayed a fear that hadn’t been there before and even Lyra Zann had a nervous furrow on her brow. Agnete looked like she was considering opening her eyes—from her account of her encounter with the Burning Forge, he understood why; the Burning Forge had allegedly appeared in a rather mundane form for a god. Arkk wasn’t sure if the Burning Forge was atypical of gods or if Xel’atriss was just that much stranger, but he wasn’t willing to risk it.
Hopefully, she wouldn’t either.
Movement overhead made him close his eyes, following his own instructions.
Just like with the first time, some odd shift in his awareness brought forth an image in his mind, much like when he used his employee link or omniscience of his territory. The violet moon shimmered and wavered, splitting apart without breaking.
Xel’atriss was there where she hadn’t been an instant before, outside the opened moon. The patron goddess of barriers, boundaries, and separation stood in the void, wrapped in an elegant dress that seemed to be made of the night sky. Her surprisingly normal black hair was unchanged from the last time Arkk saw her, long and full, resting on her shoulders.
Lithe fingers reached out.
Her hand gripped the ritual circle like it was a small glass marble. She brought it upward, holding it just before her face while she stared with large, violet eyes. It was impossible to tell exactly where she was looking. At the same time, Arkk was fairly certain that her gaze stopped on Zullie for a brief moment before dismissing her—and everyone else on the ritual platform—and turned her gaze to him.
This one, he could tell without a doubt. He knew because she wasn’t looking at him, crouched on the ritual platform with his hands still pressed to the array with his eyes squeezed shut. She looked up to his perspective.
Her eyes locked onto his abstract vision and stared.
Arkk couldn’t read her expression. Her face was a beautiful sculpture carved from marble, detailed and intricate yet neutral and utterly unchanging. Was she angry about something he had done, curious about the Calamity as Vezta had suggested, or simply waiting to see what he had to say with the patience only an infinite being could have?
Did gods actually have infinite patience? He didn’t actually know. Xel’atriss could easily be the most impatient of gods and all he was doing was projecting his view of them onto her.
Best not to keep her waiting then.
“Hey there,” he said.
Ilya sucked in a sharp breath with a hiss, almost opening her eyes as she turned her head toward him. She remembered right at the last moment, wrenching her head back toward the ritual circle. “What are you doing?” she whispered, as if a hushed tone could keep her voice from reaching the ears of a god.
Vezta laughed a short, low, nostalgic laugh without opening her many eyes, though even she looked tense in his perspective.
Was he the only one calm here? Nobody else looked at ease. Even Agnete had clearly abandoned her plan of sneaking a glimpse of the god, now bowing her head about as low as she could manage. Everyone was somewhat bowing because that was how they had been positioned for the ritual, but only Zullie had her head up. Without eyes, he didn’t know what she could see. Maybe nothing at all. Maybe something like what he was seeing. Maybe something else entirely. Still, there was tension in her shoulders and a tightness to her face that he didn’t often see on the typically arrogant witch.
He didn’t even think he was calm because of some supernatural shifting of his comprehension of the concept. Xel’atriss, Lock and Key, wasn’t going to harm them. Or, if she was, there was absolutely nothing they could do about it. Either way, there was nothing to worry over.
“How’ve you been since last we spoke?” Arkk asked, speaking as casually as possible.
He got no response. No shifting of knowledge in the back of his mind. Certainly no words. Not even an errant twitch of a lip. At least not the god’s lip. Ilya promptly started scowling even as Zullie finally dropped her head to look at him despite her eyeless state. They probably thought he was being disrespectful, which he could see, but at the same time, he was curious. Did gods have a concept of being well or being poorly? Did they even have a concept of time?
The Burning Forge sounded like she did. But from everything he heard, the Burning Forge felt more grounded than the likes of the Cloak of Shadows or, especially, Xel’atriss.
But if they lacked those sorts of things, how much could they truly comprehend of mere mortals? It was almost funny to think about, that mortals could be as alien to gods as gods were to mortals.
“No small talk, huh?” he said, a little disappointed.
The people with whom he surrounded himself were an… odd bunch, but he still didn’t think this kind of thing happened often. It could easily be the final meeting with a god he ever held in his life. The chance to puzzle out some of their existence nagged, but if he wasn’t going to get any answers, he supposed there was no helping it.
He drew in a breath. “We weren’t planning on asking you for aid,” Arkk said, pausing for a long moment. He considered mentioning that her appearance caused some problems before deciding to not blame a god. “But so long as you’re here, perhaps you would like to check our work?” Arkk asked, raising one hand from the ritual circle to gesture around him.
“Most of the ritual was planned out in advance,” he continued. “But because we had to enact it earlier than anticipated, we didn’t get to fully test every component as thoroughly as I would have liked.” Not to mention that someone’s appearance caused a few last-minute changes that hadn’t been tested at all. “The goal is to open a portal to Hell and funnel magic through it, one way, without allowing demons to invade the world.”
Comprehension dawned on Arkk without regarding something specific that he might be understanding. It was an unnatural and strange sensation. Already comprehending what he had just explained, the sudden shift in his mind had to have come from Xel’atriss.
Had she not understood beforehand? Or was she simply telling him that, yes, she knew what they were trying to do. Arkk presumed the latter.
He continued, hoping his words held enough weight to convey… something. At the very least, he needed Xel’atriss to release them so they could go back to finishing the ritual. “You assisted us once by opening a portal to the Underworld. Zullie has utilized knowledge gleaned from your being to further advance our goals. So, if you feel you’ve assisted us enough at this point, we will accept your decision.”
Arkk finished speaking. He wasn’t sure what else to say at this point. He had asked for help and then offered a way out if that help was unwarranted. At the same time, he tried to remain both polite and casual. That seemed to work well enough the first time around.
Time stretched on without any visible action from the god of boundaries. The others were still not moving, though it wasn’t as if they were petrified by a gorgon’s stare. He could see them breathing and the flickers of emotion warring on their faces. His powers didn’t grant him peeks into the minds of his employees, so he couldn’t tell exactly what they were thinking, but he still saw nervousness and stress lining everyone’s features. Lyra more than most, fearful in the presence of a potential enemy god.
Arkk found himself growing more irritated and annoyed than fearful. Here was this being of unfathomable power, who likely had the ability to resolve every conflict with no more effort than it took to blink, holding them hostage like this. If they were all like this, he could empathize with the decision that led to the demons killing their god, even if that had been the root cause of all his current problems. It did seem like a bad thought to have in front of a god, but it wasn’t like he was going to act on it. Even if he could—which he certainly could not and he had no idea how the demons managed it—it just didn’t seem like the wisest course of action. Killing one god landed him in this mess, killing another sure didn’t sound like it would fix it.
If Xel’atriss knew his thoughts, she gave no indication.
Which, if Arkk were being perfectly honest, only irritated him further.
“Zullie,” he called out, no longer addressing the god holding their little slice of reality in the palm of her hand. “Possible consequences if we simply continue the ritual?”
A few of the others, Lyra especially, voiced notes of protest. They kept their eyes closed the entire time. It was almost laughable. They were trying to be hushed and reverent at the same time as they were angry with him for even suggesting that. He was sure they would have shouted had this been a regular meeting. But his focus was on his researcher.
She didn’t answer right away either, but not because she was acting the part of some all-knowing entity. Her face scrunched up in deep thought before she slowly shook her head. “I don’t even know where to begin calculating something like that.”
“I say we continue,” Arkk said, observing everyone’s reactions through his omniscience. “Xel’atriss, Lock and Key—” He used her full title out of respect since he was speaking aloud. “—made no changes to the ritual after I asked if she wanted to check our work. That must mean it will work as intended. Congratulations Zullie, you made a ritual that works.”
Zullie’s lips firmed into a thin line. “I’d be upset with that comment,” she said, her tone unusually cold, “but now doesn’t seem like the time.”
“Is there any fault in my logic?”
“Yes,” Ilya hissed. “How are we supposed to know what a god is thinking?”
“Agreed,” Lyra said.
“I don’t think it matters what a god thinks,” Agnete said. Her voice was calm but her breath raised the temperature a fair amount. She was running hot, still forcing magic into the ritual. As were all the rest of them.
It was another reason they needed to end this one way or another and soon. Arkk could keep going. Maybe the avatars could as well. Zullie and Sylvara, for all their power, were still regular people who would run dry eventually. At that point, they wouldn’t have much control over how the ritual ended.
Sylvara, notably, didn’t speak. Her eyes were shut but there was a focus on her face. She was concentrating, acting like she didn’t wish to be disturbed as much as possible.
“Even now,” Vezta said slowly, turning her head upwards even though all her eyes remained closed, “Xel’atriss, Lock and Key isn’t protesting our continuation. She’s just… observing.”
Zullie let out a long groan of frustration before snapping herself back into ritual-leader mode. “If we’re doing this, Arkk and Ilya are up next. I need the two of you to place your off-hands on the secondary array in front of you. Do not channel magic through your off-hands. Just ready yourselves.”
“Arkk,” Ilya said, warning in her tone.
“It’ll be fine,” Arkk said.
“How can you be so sure?”
He… wasn’t sure. Again, if it wasn’t fine, it was probably not going to be his problem for much longer. However, he doubted Ilya would be all too pleased with that answer.
“Whether it is fine or not, I love you.”
“Arkk! That is not an answer.”
“I know.” In lieu of proper words, he reached out with his off-hand, past the standing form of Vezta, and grasped hold of Ilya’s hand. He gave her a firm squeeze before slowly guiding her hand to the correct spot.
He could hear her teeth grinding. He heard the moment she stopped. She opened her eyes. Her head was still down and she kept her gaze on the ritual array before them for a long moment before slowly looking up just enough to stare at him. He opened his eyes, meeting her silver eyes.
“Arkk. If we live to regret this, I will—”
“Don’t think about it like that. You should be saying, when we live to enjoy the rest of our lives…”
Ilya started to roll her eyes, only to shudder, perhaps having caught a glimpse of something she shouldn’t have. It didn’t seem to affect her beyond forcing her to close her eyes again. Her hand firmed on the ritual array and Arkk quickly moved his hand back to his own side of the circle.
“Ready,” Ilya said.
“Zullie?” Arkk called out.
“If you two are finished flirting, we have a world to save. Activate the secondary array on my callout, pushing equal amounts of magic into it as you are into the primary array. Everyone else, focus on steadying any spikes or lulls in magic. We want things as smooth as possible. Arkk! Ilya! Now!”
Arkk pulsed his magic.
A bright white light filled his vision.