The bear lasted almost an entire week, and that wasn’t for a lack of trying on their part. I watched in fascination as the enormous beast was whittled down day after day by so many hungry mouths until only its charred bones remained. Entrails were fed to livestock, leaving not a single portion of flesh unutilized.

It wasn’t even over at that point. The craftsmen began to have some ideas on what to do with the enormously sturdy bones of the once magical beast. Even I could sense the magic thrumming within. Once the thin layer of burned bone was scraped away, the bones seemed completely undamaged.

The femurs and other long bones were repurposed and sharpened into swords, with the same bear’s leather wrapping one end into a usable handle. The enormous claws and fangs into spear-tips, and the ribs into hook-shaped sabers sharpened into a sturdy bone-blade. That single beast managed to arm twenty-three people entirely on its lonesome.

The marrow was extracted where it could, so it was several days after before the bear was fully consumed. Its skull was taken as a trophy for my temple, and its pelt now draped its main floor. By the end of it all, the people were just clamoring for another magical beast to rear its ugly head.

Len and Ruman were neck in neck, on the verge of unlocking a fourth meridian. Though the physical improvements were no longer as explosive as in the beginning, they were still head over shoulders above the common man and could well defend themselves against a dozen combatants each.

Not to mention the unique benefits that each opened meridian granted them. Requiring less sleep, less need to eat, and a heightened immunity towards disease and infection were things that would prove invaluable to a larger population, especially due to the amount of productivity it would bring.

When it was time for Ruman to go on his mission, Len escorting him for protection, the village was suffused with never-before-seen energy. Purpose was everywhere, and excitement was in the air.

Things had changed so drastically, but they would continue to change even more in the coming days.

000

Len

They had walked only for mere hours after dawn before arriving at the nearest village. Grandpa had specifically chosen this one, not merely due to its proximity, but because he was personal friends with the eldir of that tribe.

The welcome they got was wide-eyed surprise and uncertainty. Both Len and his grandfather were armed and dressed in hunter’s regalia, but while this would have frightened any other villager, the two were similar in appearance to the villagers that they were uncertain what to feel.

As a rule, mountain tribesmen never fought. Even in the olden halcyon days, such things were banned, restricted by a pact made many centuries ago. Now, it was merely due to pragmatism. Why fight when you could trade? What was the reason to fight someone equally as deprived as yourself?

Also, the presence of lowlanders in the west bolstered a sense of kinship between the various tribes. If there even was an enemy, it would surely be them, for banning their gods and beliefs, and relegating them to the meager mountains.

The eldir strode out to meet Grandpa. Unlike the latter before his training, the eldir was still healthy and spry enough to walk unaided.

“Ruman!” The eldir approached grandfather gleefully. Grandpa returned the glee as they both hugged each other heartily.

They broke off and smiled at each other, their foreheads touching. “It is great to see you, old friend. How have things been?”

“Better than last year, that’s for certain! If this winter is as warm as the last one, I’ll thank my lucky stars!” Len smiled at the expression. It was nice to see that the cultural beliefs of the tribe still held, and that they had an inkling of Astra already.

“What about the one fifty years past?” Ruman suggested.

“Snow fell for only a month. Aye, I remember. A most wondrous transition into a new year!”

“I’ll say, Nergal,” Ruman chuckled. “Why not invite me into your house so we can talk and catch up? You remember my boy, Lenari, right?” He patted Len’s back, and Len blushed at the utterance of his full name. He always thought it sounded so effeminate. “He’s grown big and strong, can you tell?”

“Aye, that I can,” Nergal scrutinized Len up and down in fascination. “A solid boy,” He clapped Len’s shoulder, and he did not move even as he felt that the force should have made him stagger just a bit. “Quite solid. You’re a blessed man, Ruman. Follow me. I’ll crack open a few jugs of fruit juice and we can talk about life. Lenuru still busting your balls about that dire wolf incident all those years ago?”

Len stopped, and so did Grandpa. Nergal hadn’t even noticed until he looked back to see them both, expressions weary.

Nergal sobered up. He sighed, and then his voice deepened. “Ale would be a better choice, it seems.”

Grandpa smiled ruefully. “That it would, Nergal. That, it would.”

Nergal walked back up to Ruman and held his shoulder. Silence reigned for a few seconds, and soon enough, Grandpa regained the strength to continue walking. Len followed dutifully. Soon they were inside the dark hut that Nergal called home. After a few aborted attempts to start a fire, Len kneeled down and picked up the slack. He spun the stick rapidly on the straw, and soon enough, a spark had turned into a small flame which he fed cautiously.

Nergal clapped his back in appreciation.

Soon, they were all seated, and Nergal began to talk. “How did it happen?”

Grandpa sighed. “Sickness and old age,” he said.

Nergal smiled somberly. He retrieved a cask of ale, and poured us all full cups. Neither of the two elderly men spoke as they enjoyed their ale, silence reigning supreme.

Len felt that it was awkward at first, but realized that this was merely a process. Grandpa continued to drink the ale, the taste extra vivid with his new magically enhanced body which no longer ailed him so, and Nergal drank with gusto, his mood visibly brightening with each gulp.

Len took his cup and drank. The burning waters slid down his throat and rested in his stomach heartily. He had tried ale before, but this was something obviously stronger.

Much stronger. He had drunk too fast, and now he felt… lighter. It was almost like an invisible weight had been lifted from his shoulder. The grief he still felt for losing his beloved grandmother felt… lessened.

A temporary reprieve at most, but an appreciated one.

Grandpa Ruman chuckled at Nergal’s mischievous expression. “This isn’t ale, you doddering fool.”

“I figured ale wouldn’t cut it,” Nergal replied innocently. “Why does it matter? You can’t hold your cup now?”

“Not at all,” Grandpa replied, “And no, we’re not ‘testing that out’. I did wish to talk about… other things. Serious things.”

“More ‘ale’?” Nergal suggested anyway. Grandpa acquiesced.

Soon, Grandpa talked. He talked about Astra, borne from Lenuru’s soul and their mascot sprite intertwining. He talked about the cultivation of magic which had allowed Grandpa to regain much of the strength of his youth, and finally, he talked about the Verdant Green gems and Astra’s plan to increase his population.

Grandpa pulled out a fist-sized orb from his satchel to prove his point. Freely, he gave it to Nergal.

“You may keep it,” Grandpa said. “There is much more where it came from.”

“This is,” Nergal looked at the gem with obvious greed, but also trepidation. He sighed. “This is too good to be true.”

“It isn’t,” Grandpa explained. “Astra wants more followers, but more followers does increase the risk of something being reported to the Crown, and if that happens, a crusade will be led to destroy us all. We need to be vigilant, but above all, we need to be prepared. All of us do.”

Nergal was an old, trusted friend of Grandpa, yet the doubt in Nergal’s eyes caused Len to despair. “This is… it’s a lot to take in, old friend.”

“I know,” Grandpa Ruman spoke. “But the benefits speak for themselves. If every able man and woman began their training right now, in both villages, we could fend off multitudes of the City’s soldiers. A crusade would do us no harm if we consolidated enough power, power which your village could lend us.”

Nergal sighed again, but this time, his eyes seemed to take on a dangerous glint. “I would love to go back to our halcyon days, Ruman, I would. Forgive my craven display, for I have become too accustomed to lethargy and a meager living. I trust you implicitly, so know that you will have my support. I shall begin preparations to have us move promptly.”

“One more request?” Grandpa asked.

“Name it,” Nergal was deadly serious.

“Bring your all your brewery equipment and alcohol stock.”

Nergal smiled broadly, rows of browned and yellowed teeth revealed. “Did you even have to ask?”

The village was awhirl with movement and purpose.

In a fit of inspired commitment, after all the houses had been cleared of keepsakes and important possessions, Nergal lit his village ablaze. The villagers stared at the conflagration, understanding dawning on them soon enough. They would need to make their life elsewhere, to Grandpa Ruman’s village.

Before Nergal’s people left, the old man returned to him the Verdant Green gem. “If there’s so many where they came from, I figured you’d need them more than we would.” He said. “To convince the others.”

They set out in the afternoon, and would arrive near dusk. Len and his Grandfather continued onwards, towards a new village, and new recruits.

This time, they were on their way closer to the mountains, towards a village much more insular than the rest.

This one had over two dozen people, led only by an elderly woman. Grandpa Ruman asked them only for a bed for the night, and a chance to speak to her in the morning.

Morning came, and after their host had treated them to a modest breakfast, Grandpa began his pitch.

The elderly woman, Nyarai, accepted near-immediately at the mention of the word ‘God’.

“We have wanted to awaken a God for a long time,” Nyarai admitted. “A traveler from distant lands came to my village and spoke of such events where those of enough faith could summon their own patron deity. Me and mine have tried for decades, and have no qualms about adopting yours.”

The surrounding people – the conversation had never really been private – were visibly excited. Well, Len thought with a smile, they had enthusiasm in spades.

They set out near-immediately, foregoing practically everything that they weren’t currently wearing. The journey was only a day away, yet they seemed fine to only get sustenance off the lands on their way to the village.

Once more, Len and his grandfather traveled.

000

“So you’re, uh… Astra. The, uh, God of… us, now, I guess.”

I looked at the burnished old man with a thick, black beard, who had met me in my temple, representing the mountain village nearest to ours. Tar kept the beard pigmented, for without it, it would have been white as snow. As far as health went, he wasn’t nearly as poor off as Ruman was, but he’d still need to be taught our cultivation method if he was to regain some of his youthful energy.

“Yes,” I spoke, “Though… I am sensing that there is something missing between us. I can’t rightly feel a link.”

“A link?” Nergal asked. “My worship, I’ll assume? Very well; what would you have me do?”

“A show of faith?” I suggested. “Anything you’re comfortable with.”

With a sigh, Nergal fell on his knees and kowtowed before me. “I burned down my old village. There is nowhere else for me to go. Forgive my reluctance to hand over my undivided faith, as I am an old man set in my ways, but I hope this show of faith is enough.”

A tether solidified between us rapidly, and soon, he truly became mine. “It worked,” I said, and Nergal looked up at me in shock. My sincerity, my love and my devotion for him was plain to his senses.

“It… it did!” Nergal almost shouted. “I shall have my people –er, that is, your people come in to pay their respects immediately.”

I nodded with a smile. “Thank you. I would like to speak to Fern with regards to living arrangements. You will be sharing houses with us, and the remainders who won’t fit can sleep in my temple. Tell your people that,” I said.

Nergal rushed out and Fern stepped forward. We soon spoke about logistics and the expected timeframe of finishing construction.

To my happiness, the original settlers here had accepted the newcomers with open arms. Our numbers had doubled now, so we would have to work extra hard to make sure that all mouths were being fed.

Our stores were dwindling, but harvest was coming in soon, and with the Verdant Green, we could shorten that process considerably. Really, at the end of the day, there was little cause to worry!

Soon enough, Nergal’s people were brought in to profess their faith to me. This had helped things along considerably, and would only just be the beginning.

I knew I could count on Ruman. Instant results were always gratifying.

Unfortunately, the number of magical beast attacks had increased drastically with the amount of magic gems we were unearthing. The ambient magic around the village had increased drastically, and with it, our attractiveness in the eyes of these beasts.

Fortunately, we were well-prepared to weather their attacks, and were gratified that they went out of their way to seek us out. It was free food, after all. Another bear had attacked us, with a similar coloration to the first one.

With this core, we managed to put the eldest of Nergal’s people through the cleansing ritual, but there was a difference now.

Nergal had chimed in on the specifics of the ritual, offering alcohol to help ease the process. In enough amounts, the alcohol would dull the pain, and would naturally increase nausea levels. After the core would rid the host of all impurities, the alcohol would somehow lose its sway on the host, allowing for easier cultivation right afterwards.

Another procession came right after, this time only twenty-five. They professed their faith to me immediately upon laying their eyes on me. They came in just in time to aid in the construction efforts. The nearby forest was being deforested rapidly, and while Fern and I made plans for how our burgeoning town would look, my people protected the newcomers from every threat that would rear its head.

Namely, we found another dire wolf. More food and cores for us!

Eldir Nyarai, as her people described her, would regale everyone with tales of the past while we were in my temple. The tales were familiar and gave me a sense of warmth in my heart.

To my surprise, she possessed our lore, the lore of the mountain tribesmen.

Once upon a time, they were divided into a hundred and twenty great clans, all distributed in ten large villages. There were thousands upon thousands of them. They dabbled in natural magecraft, lending power from nature in order to let it do its bidding.

They were called the Maeyah, and they brought life to the mountains.

Their method of using the magic minerals were revolutionary beyond measure. Although the method was lost to time, they could purify the gems and increase their potency. A method which was not lost to time, was boiling the Verdant Green in a thick mixture of soil and water which, when spread across a field, would promote rapid growth.

No one else could utilize Verdant Green like the Maeyah. They were blessed with knowledge. Too blessed.

Settlers from the west soon arrived, pushed back by the threat of orcs. They imposed their laws on this new land that they moved into, and when the Maeyah refused to listen, the lowlanders waged war against them. Thousands of my people were slain, and our culture destroyed. Our spiritual leaders were killed, and story-tellers had their tongues cut off.

It was a grisly history, and much of what made the Maeyah special was lost forever.

But we could rebuild and become more than what we once were. Nyarai encouraged us not to look back to the golden days, but to look forward to so much more. It lifted everyone’s spirits enough that they all offered another prayer to me.

…I think I just found my priestess.