Glenn

Glenn—with his mother, his father, Karl Coldbreaker, and Becka—stood impatiently in the lobby of the mayor’s residence to the north of the town square. Over thirty minutes ago, they’d concluded their private dinner with Coleman and his severe-looking wife, Greta. Then, of course, they’d been told the mayor would say “a few words” and asked to wait in the lobby until the band started to play.

It was now over thirty minutes later. The band still hadn’t played.

As Glenn contemplated, again, exactly how fast a Town Guard could move when startled, he worked his way through the latest of his farcical plans. He would slip past the two Town Guards at the doors to the mayor’s residence, kick the door open, sprint across the square to the chapel, and get this whole ceremony over all by himself. Someone just needed to end this already.

Mayor Coleman had now been speaking for half an hour. What sort of town-ending atrocity could possibly justify that many words? The man was a monster.

“They’re all dead,” Hal said glumly. “The whole town. They must all be dead, now, after listening to this much of that man’s dribble. They’ve literally died from boredom.”

“Quiet,” Tania cautioned gently. “The guards might overhear.”

One of the guards waved. “No, it’s fine, you can talk about whatever you want in here.” Glenn recognized the voice of Scott Rosewillow. “You’re the mayor’s guests. Just pretend we’re not here.”

Martin slapped his arm. “We’re on duty.”

“And it’s terrible,” Scott agreed.

Glenn forced himself to relax. He liked Martin and Scott, he really did, and they had no more control over this situation than anyone else who’d agreed to this private dinner with the mayor tonight. The mayor had been absolutely thrilled to announce that Wolfpine was sending not one, but two young people to join the Blazer’s Guild. Such events were rare in Lakebrooke.

This was Coleman’s moment ... or so he’d apparently decided. Everyone else was just furniture for him to show off and move around. Glenn glanced at Becka, who offered a small, hopeful smile.

He had her. She had him. They had their new life in the Blazer’s Guild, no matter if the Gods chose Glenn as Adventurer or Townsfolk. They could stomach thirty minutes of Mayor Coleman’s blabber if the end was them off to see the world together.

And then, at last, the band began to play.

“Finally!” Karl growled. “I believe I am going to strangle that man. I will do it in front of the whole town, defying both the will of the Gods and the Law of Consent. It will be a spectacle, but the people will cheer.”

As they all approached the doors, Scott spoke again. “I’m going to be honest, Mister Coldbreaker. If you managed that, at this point, I’m not entirely certain we’d stop you.”

Scott and Martin opened both doors in perfect synchronization. Outside, the night lamps glowed bright red. The whole town had gathered, now staring toward the mansion with expectation.

Becka started down the stairs with Karl beside her, as Mayor Coleman had explained she would. Glenn followed with his parents walking behind him, as Coleman had explained they would. If not for Coleman’s threat to make his parent’s lives miserable, Glenn would have told the man to sit on a stick.

In principle, the dinner had been fine. The mayor had fed them a large salad of the finest leaves, carrots, and tomatoes, alongside roasted tribbit in pickled ... something ... sauce. And with every bite Glenn politely choked down, all he could think about was the magnificent barbecue he was missing.

He wanted another slice of the barbecued pig that spent the night in the [-Triage Bubble-]. He craved tender, salted, delicious meat. He wanted at least one shot at huge buffet of food on the wooden tables the town had been put together to feed people as they listened the mayor blather.

Yet as Glenn followed Becka and Karl down the steps of the mayor’s mansion toward the square with his father and mother behind him, he spotted a large and familiar serving plate big enough to hold an entire roast pig. At the sight of nothing but bones and sticky sauce across the plate, it was all he could do not to weep.

Karl’s. Barbecue. Was. Gone.

Yet the crowd in the square was cheering—the whole town was cheering for him and Becka now—and when Glenn saw Becka waving, he remembered to wave as well. And smile. To be polite.

A Town Guard in female armor—likely Joanne—waited at the stage they approached from the back. She motioned subtly to wooden stairs leading up, and Becka led her partner and their families up the stairs to their fate. Jenny Ambersun stood on the platform beside the mayor, relaxed and looking quite magnificent in her white, blue, and yellow [Blessed Silken Robes]. The colors of her guild.

And the colors of Glenn and Becka’s guild, very soon. So there was that.

“And now, my people, our own heroes of the hour!” Mayor Coleman shouted over the cheers of the crowd and the halfway decent band of Auracasters, using one of his Politician skills, [-Be Heard-], to dramatically magnify the sound of his own voice. “Rebecka Coldbreaker and Glenn Redwood!”

Mayor Coleman had planned to have Glenn walk out first, in the lead. Glenn had told the mayor both politely and repeatedly that Rebecka must come first when the mayor announced them to the town. Becka had been first to take the Quest to save Azalea. Glenn had only assisted.

Only Jenny’s timely intervention and agreement with Glenn’s case had settled the matter. At least Mayor Coleman listened to her. He was practically obsequious when listening to Jenny.

Glenn followed Becka to the front of the stage as their parents joined the mayor and Jenny. Becka waved. Glenn waved. It all felt ridiculous, but at least the town was enjoying it. Wolfpine didn’t have a lot of public events this big, being a small town with sixty people in a starter zone.

Coleman’s voice boomed anew. “Now, my people, it is time for our very own Glenn Redwood to complete his Ceremony of the Path. While I think the result is as obvious to everyone here as it is to our esteemed representative from the Blazer’s Guild, we must still honor Celes.”

“Praise Celes!” the entirety of the town shouted eagerly.

Coleman’s voice boomed again. “Please, make way for our newest trial age citizen. Glenn, no matter the result, we in Wolfpine are all extremely proud of you, and I am most especially. Now go find your path.”

Now Mayor Coleman was claiming to be proud of him? Glenn might strangle the man himself. There had to be a way to trick Coleman into consenting. Could he strangle a man accidentally?

The people who’d filled the square all politely parted to make a path for Glenn, moving toward the tavern or the guard barracks based on who they’d come to the square with and which side of the square they happened to be the closest to. A clear path to the Chapel of Celes waited ahead.

“Heroics,” Becka whispered in his ear, and gave him a little push.

Glenn didn’t move. He was three times as strong as she was. Still, her whispered encouragement helped reassure him. He nodded to the town, walked down the stairs without tripping, and walked along the open path on the worn yellow cobblestones.

He’d dreamt of this moment since he’d been old enough to read about the Ceremony of the Path. A newly trial age citizen undergoing the Ceremony of the Path was always a cause for celebration. Some of the more popular people to do this before Glenn had gathered several families to cheer them. So far as Glenn knew, he was the only one to gather the entire town.

Still, at least his misfortune had resulted in some good food, for them. He hoped Wolfpine’s people had enjoyed their feast. He hoped they understood he’d never asked for any of this.

He recognized almost all the faces in the crowd, and many smiled. Glenn smiled back, half-heartedly. Yet he kept his gaze focused on the two closed doors to the chapel. He focused on the ancient stone walls and the towering stone steeple, then beyond.

His gaze traveled to the tip of the chapel's spire and the gleaming crescent moon. The symbol of Celes. The arbiter of his fate.

The doors opened, as if of their own accord, once Glenn reached the shallow chapel steps. Two of Richard Deepscar’s young pages had opened them, and Richard himself waited within. The old man was approaching fifty now, ten years past the age when Adventurers and Townsfolk could retire.

Richard’s skin was sallow and craggy, and his long white hair pale and thin. Yet he still had a decent frame beneath his gleaming white [Robes of Celes], and since he was a man, the robes covered everything instead of exposing his midriff, which visibly sagged beneath them.

Yet Richard was a Spiritualist, after all, an Evolved Lifecaster, so he could cast healing Skills on himself whenever he got a muscle cramp or had difficulty in the privy. Perks of the Class.

Adventurers were allowed to be Adventurers for as long as they wished, and Richard seemed ready to keep leveling in the safety of Wolfpine’s Chapel of Celes until he keeled over and died. Becka had revealed last night that Richard was now Level 36, so why stop now?

Richard gained a large amount of experience every time he used [-Resurrect-]. There was always a roaming Adventurer or foolish common age Adventurer dying somewhere in Grassea. Simply by using his [-Resurrect-] Skill once every day, Richard would reach Level 37 sooner or later without ever leaving this chapel or stepping outside the town walls. That was safe even for an old man.

With a heavy thump, the doors closed behind him. The whoops and cheers from the square became a memory. The chapel was utterly quiet, sealed like a tomb, even though there were no bodies below. Anyone who met the forever death was burned on a pyre before the day was out.

No one wanted their Desouled body raised and used by a Deathcaster.

Glenn bowed deep at the waist once the chapel fell into silence. He clasped his palms together and extended them toward the tall statue of Celes which stood at the front of the chapel. He wasn’t looking at the statue—his eyes were closed—but he could picture it perfectly.

The Chapel of Celes in Wolfpine was hexagonal, with the statue of Celes near one wall and a gorgeous glass window behind that. Candles burned throughout the space, lighting the chapel with soft and comforting light. The walls were light-colored marble and the ceiling high and arched.

Celes was a gorgeous Goddess with a full figure and long, sculpted hair coursing down her back. She wore a dress with a plunging neckline that fell to her midriff, with a long slit up the side. Glenn wasn’t sure where the Builder who’d created Wolfpine’s statue had gotten his idea of what Celes looked like, but this statue was certainly an ... interesting ... representation of the Goddess of Resurrection.

And to be fair, what did he truly know about the Gods?

“Welcome Glenn,” Richard said softly, in a quiet but strong voice Glenn had known since he was a toddling child playing tag inside the chapel. “Are you ready to receive your path from the Gods?”

Glenn rose and nodded. “I am.”

“Walk to the pedestal supporting the casting of Celes and kneel,” Richard instructed. “Then, when your soul is at rest, flatten your palms on the panel. Left on the sun, right on the moon.”

Glenn knew how to interact with a Statue of Celes, of course. He’d done it when he obtained [-Phantom Slice-]. Still, he’d never before had the statue interact back. Today he wouldn’t be passively selecting his first Skill. Today ... the Gods of Balarel would actively decide his fate.

Yet Glenn had dreamed about this moment as well. Without the roars of the crowd and the presence of Mayor Coleman, the Ceremony of the Path felt dreamlike and otherworldly. He reminded himself that whether the Gods chose him as Adventurer or Townsfolk, he’d still be a Blazer. He wouldn’t make those gathered wait outside as Coleman had made them wait.

He walked down the short path leading to the small, worn pillows where Adventurers or Townsfolk could place their knees when Slotting Skills or Blessings at the chapel. It was also where those in need of Celes’ comfort could kneel peacefully in sight of her grace. Celes stood atop a marble pedestal on which the shapes of both a sun and moon waited, the former to the left and the latter to the right.

“Whenever you are ready,” Richard said quietly. “Do not be afraid.”

Glenn wasn’t afraid. Nervous and excited, certainly... but definitely not afraid. He settled his knees on the pillows, breathed, extended his palms, and placed them. One on sun, one on moon.

The front of the pedestal was oddly warm, warmer than he’d expected, but nothing happened. What were the Gods waiting for? When he’d touched the statue to choose [-Phantom Slice-] as his first Skill a few days ago, a vision had taken him the moment he touched the sun and moon.

Just as he was ready to glance back at Richard and ask what he’d one wrong, the world popped. And once again, Glenn saw the Brazier of Life. The source of all life in Balarel.

As always, the sight took his breath away ... or would have, had he a body. When reSlotting at a Shrine of Celes, one had no body, no head nor hands nor eyes. One simply was.

The Brazier of Life had a wide base supporting a narrow column, supporting a shallow open top that burned with a fire that was impossibly bright and strong. It stood in a shrine set atop a set of worn steps that looked ancient as the world itself, framed by tall, proud columns on each side. While Glenn could make out what felt like a mountaintop around him, all else was stars and dark.

And then, between him and the Brazier of Life, the words of the Pantheon manifested.