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The dead did not answer prayers.
Jayce had learned that lesson long before the gods had ever heard him.
Not once did Viktor, the mage, the scholar, the truest architect of the arcane that Jayce could comprehend, find a way to converse with him. Though, that would be difficult in his current state; ashes and dust,and a stray piece of cane that survived the explosion, buried six feet below Faerun’s grounds in a pauper’s grave.
He prayed.
And prayed.
And he prayed until his voice would fail him.
“I know not who listens,” He would mutter beneath course, baited breath, “I do not know whose domain I trespass. But if there remains any power, any power that values truth over pride…mercy over ambition….then hear me.”
His hazel eyes would look up to plead if he knew it would find him absolution, but he had come to find the action futile.
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It had taken Jayce months of research, tedious combing through weathered scrolls and dusty tombs locked away in the darkest, most heavily restricted parts of the libraries all across the land. The process had been slow and frustrating. But in the end he gathered enough snippets of forbidden knowledge to set off on his expedition.
The journey through the sprawling jungles and sweeping mountain ranges had taken many more weeks but Jayce had come prepared to fight every step of the way, knowing he was on the right track as he found more and more markings etched into cracked bark and mossy stone. And when finally, after days of fighting his way upward and through steep gulches, the oppressing cliffs to his sides opened up and revealed the view of a sunbathed temple atop the mountain, his heart was soaring despite his burning body.
So when Jayce entered the now forbidden place of worship after months of preparing and searching, the last thing he expected to find was another person already there.
The other man was kneeling at an altar b the feet of an immense statue at the far end of the temple. His slender frame illuminated by the many torches lining the weathered walls and the dancing flames of two braziers to both sides of the altar. As he took in the sight of the stranger Jayce wondered how anyone this whispy and frail could have braved the mountain range to get here. But then he noticed the staff on the stairs next to him.
Jayce swallowed, unsure what to do. The mage had not noticed him just yet, seemingly lost in worship as he shaped the smoke from smouldering herbs strewn across a bed of coal before him. He might not take kindly to being interrupted. But Jayce had risked too much to turn around now, that he had finally found what he was looking for.
So he adjusted the straps of his heavy backpack and stepped further into the temple.
He had made it about halfway through the ample, empty hall when the mage stilled the motions of his hands, the smoke trailing after the smooth movements of his fingers dissipating as soon as he did. Jayce held his breath. But he did not stop moving. Not even when the mage turned his head, one sharp, golden eye squinting at him him over a slender shoulder.
"You better turn around, wanderer", the mage warned, his voice low but firm and his words slightly lilting in a foreign accent. "Your gods do not reside here."
"I know." Jayce tried to sound casual as he slipped off his heavy backpack and set it down, his equipment clinking quietly within as he did. "That's why I'm here."
While the mage still squinted at him Jayce took in the sight of the statue looming above the altar. It measured easily fifteen feet and depicted the outlawed goddess in all her revered glory. She was strikingly beautiful, even with her features carved from stone. Her cheekbones high and elegant, her lips full and pulled into a soft smile. Her eyes kind but lifeless.
Her hair was chiselled with the same care and attention to detail, thick strands curled against her head, the thick bands worked into it seemingly made from gold, the pure metal associated with her worship. Jayce had spotted it all throughout the temple, from the golden decorations at the door to the golden plating carved with runes let into the floor, each a few paces apart.
The work on her flowing robes was less detailed but still beautiful, each fold artistically depicted. Her hands hovered above another in front of her body, palms facing another with the fingers gently curled inward, as if she were cradling some kind of object between them.
"What do you want?", the mage asked after a long stretch of silence, now having turned to watch Jayce suspiciously as he opened his backpack and retrieved some of the most important pieces he had taken on this trip. He set them down gently on the temple floors, openly spreading out his intentions, before looking up again at the other man.
"Same thing you do, to worship. And pray."
Dark eyebrows drew together as he watched Jayce work, confusion apparent on his face.
"Why not pray to your own gods?"
And that really was the crux of it, was it not? Jayce gave a wry smile as he picked up one of the offerings. He uncorked the bottle of well aged summer wine and poured it into the bowl of the purest gold he had been able to find. Then he picked up the device he had built, the stylized model of the sun, a glimmering ball of gold with three rings of implied beams. Once he wound up the device the rings stuttered into movement, twirling and twisting around the little sun with slightly stuttering movements.
That seemed to catch the mage's attention. He tilted his head, watching the display with interest as Jayce retrieved his own bundle of herbs to burn in favour of the goddess.
"Because they don't answer prayers they deem too ... ambitious..."
At that golden eyes flicked up to him again and Jayce could see intrigue there now. He gathered the bowl, the herbs and the slowly spinning device in his hands and crossed the remaining distance between them, confident to have shown his intentions and thus calmed the mage enough to join him.
He was allowed to settle on the steps to the altar right next to the stranger, allowed to lay out his offerings with a quiet whisper of the correct ancient syllables strung together. But before he began his prayer he looked to the side, at the man who is still watching him curiously.
"How about you?"
Pale lips parted in surprise, breath halting as the answer got lodged in his throat. A shadow flickered across sharp features, one that Jayce recognized all too well.
"They killed my gods", the mage finally whispered and Jayce nodded. Like they tried to kill her, burning down her temples and banning her very name by the threat of the dungeons or worse. As if she were dangerous. Well, to them she certainly was.
Just like all of the Celestials. Those the people had worshipped before the Empire installed their own gods, leashed and sanitized to keep anyone from earning the favour of something as eternal as a Celestial again.
"So ... you want revenge?" If so Jayce would not be able to blame the mage. Many people were burning with righteous fury still and even though his path to help them did not involve the kind of direct action that was called for by some, he understood their longing all too well. Who was he to tell the oppressed how to live with or fight against their oppression? he was simply an inventor trying to ease their suffering where he could.
That was why he was here, after all. To offer his service, his very life, in exchange for holy revelations.
The mage paused, golden eyes gliding from Jayce's face down to his hands that lay folded in his lap. Then to the still twirling rings of gold around the model sun. Their keen attention made Jayce just a little nervous.
"I want to live", he finally said and the burning determination in his voice was something beautiful and almost terrifying in its inevitability. "And if I do ... I'll exact any revenge she'll want me to."
His words had not even stopped echoing through the ample hall of the temple when the fires in the braziers began to lick higher, shining brighter along with the flaring torches lining the halls. But even their flickering shine paled against the blinding light flaring up right in front of them.
The empty space between the statue's hands came alive with the light of the very sun itself, the blindingly beautiful orb cradled between her palms like something precious and vulnerable. At the same time dozens of golden flecks began to shimmer along her skin, her bare arms and sculpted cheeks, and even the thick bands of gold in her chiselled hair began to glow as her shoulders rolled, her chest expanded. As if taking a first breath after awakening from deep slumber.
When her eyes opened, slow and inevitable, Jayce found himself staring into the golden light of twin suns that did not burn his vision but soothed his very soul.
When the goddess spoke her voice shook the very foundations of the temple.
"Not revenge."
Jayce could feel the reach of her words saturate every cell in his body. Had he not already been kneeling he would have thrown himself to her feet, awed and breathless.
"Justice."
The single word held the power of an earthquake, making every single stone of the temple vibrate with sheer strength. Right before their eyes the goddess began to shift, slowly drawing her hands apart as she spread her arms wide. The radiant sun rose up right in front of her, shining brighter and still brighter as it passed by her chest, her chin. Her forehead. Until it stood high above her, bathing them all it's light.
Beside him the mage was frozen just as Jayce was, both of them lost in the proof of her power right in front of them. Neither of them would have been able to run even if they wanted to. If they had not come here hoping for less than this. Whatever she deemed to bestow on them they would take and they would be grateful. Jayce felt it in his bones.
"Take my blessing. Restore to these lands what has been lost."
The words had not stopped shaking the temple when the sun high above them shifted and expanded, growing brighter and brighter, larger and hotter. Until all Jayce could see was eternal, soothing light.
And then.
Darkness.
~
You can find this fic and all my other MJV Week 2022 entries on ao3 as well!
