24 Rirasiru's Temple

Humans are so funny.

I know that I was one, in another life, but at once they seem both so familiar and alien to me. They are creatures capable of empathy and higher thought, but at their core, they're the same as other animals, driven by their desire for the material.

They have a sort of charm to them, I think. Although, I can't help but find it absurd how they elevate themselves over the other creatures of this world. All life is equally precious, but only a few seem to understand that.

Ah, the little lambs.

They're not hopeless, but they must be guided. That's why I'm here.

It's been almost one year since I came into existence. I spent most of that time meeting the other Gods and paying them homage. So these are my colleagues? They're very funny people, but so different from one another. My advisors coached me in proper conversational etiquette, but most of them aren't polite at all!

The rest of my time is spent learning. Many people educate me. It seems I have a tutor for everything! From foreign languages to the sciences to even ballroom dancing, my days are spent with various people training me to be a proper God.

I have to confess something. It's not so fun.

Some subjects I like. But between all the memorization, and the tests, and the expectations, I seldom ever have a moment to myself. And when I do, I grant people their wishes. It's… hard sometimes, but as long as it makes people happy, I'm happy. Humans don't have powers, but maybe they could follow in my footsteps and grant wishes in their own way? Nothing would make me so prouder.

Enough complaining, though, because it was a joyous day. It was the festival of my ascension. My Temple isn't complete yet, but we had a lovely ceremony in the town. I liked looking at all the painted lanterns they released into the sky. And they let me eat as many sweets as I wanted!

I got lots of trinkets, and the feast they held was delicious, but at the end of the night, they presented me with a woman.

"Your Holiness," they said, "we offer you a bride. If she's to your liking, please continue protecting our village."

But I already do that anyway?

Ah, what am I supposed to do with a bride? Human beings seem to value their partnerships with other humans. They've explained a concept to me called romantic love, but even though I love all, I can't understand it. Why be with just one person when you could be with everybody?

They left us to consummate the marriage alone.

There's one problem, though.

They didn't explain to me what consummation is?

So we didn't do anything, and I went to eat more sweets. I brought some to Lijla (that is the name of my bride), but she didn't want any. Lijla is strange. Everything she does is reverent and dutiful toward me, but she doesn't seem to be enthusiastic about making herself be of service. What an odd human. Who wouldn't be happy about dedicating themselves to others?

I'll leave her alone if that's what she wishes. I don't intend her any harm.

Oh! And wonderful news! In a few months' time, I'm to embark on a journey all around the world! It's to pay homage to the Gods of other lands, but what I'm looking forward to most is seeing the world and its marvels. I wonder what's in store for me?

But I know I'll be happy, because the world can be only beautiful.

(Excerpt from the Diary of Rirasiru)

--

Another hike through the forest was the last thing Hana wanted, but there they were, walking through the woods to Mica's house. She had no idea he lived so out from the village. How did he get to work every day?

At last, they entered a little clearing with a few buildings dotting it. There was a log cabin, decorated with a cheerful garland of flowers laced around the door and windows, and next to it a vegetable patch. On the other side was a smokehouse and sauna big enough for three. And in the main yard, three humongous dog shelters. Hana couldn't believe the size of them, until three gigantic Samoyeds came out and bounded up to them.

"Gah!" said Zagiha, snatching Buttercup away from one trying to sniff her rump.

"Oh, don't worry," said Mica. "They're friendly dogs!"

"These aren't dogs; they're bears," he said, pushing one's slobbering mouth away from him. "What did you feed these things?"

"I raised them from puppies, and the magic in Minumna Valley mutated them to this size," Mica explained simply. "This land is powerful."

"This place really is a treasure trove of resources…"

Mica opened up the door, popping his head inside. "Papa?" he called. "I'm back."

And from inside, a crotchety old voice shouted in return: "What did you drag home this time?"

Mica smiled abashedly. "Just some friends!" he said. "Three people, two dogs, and uh, a God!"

"WHAT?"

"Come on in!" he said, holding the door open.

The group looked at each other, but entered anyway.

Pops Rebane sat on his favorite worn-out easy chair, a cup of coffee in his hand and a cattail between his teeth. The older man leaned forward, the cattail falling out of his mouth in shock the moment he laid eyes on Zagiha.

"Micaiah Rebane!" he bellowed. "What in Gods' name? Why? How?"

"Your dad's so friendly, Nico," said Zagiha.

"It's a crazy story," said Mica. He popped his hands together, like a child pleading for ice cream. "Please, Papa, can't they come in for a little while? They had a long journey. And you remember Herra Crowe, don't you? And Hana? She's Silvio's sister."

Pops grumbled and sighed. "It's not like you're gonna listen anyway. They can come in, but they're your guests. It's your responsibility to entertain 'em."

The cabin was small and cramped, but the Rebanes made the best use of space out of it they could. Still, it wasn't suitable for two people to live in, let alone six and two dogs. Mica kicked off his shoes and hopped over to the stove.

"Well, isn't this a cute little place?" said Zagiha. "Poor people are so quaint!"

"So what brings an all-powerful God to our little neck in the woods?" asked Pops between clenched teeth.

Before Zagiha could screw it up further, the others picked up the slack and filled in the blanks.

"So that's why I need to figure out a way to undo the treaty's curse," Zagiha finished.

All the while, Mica brewed a pot of tea. Pouring it into six little cups, he said, "Ah, but Your Holiness, didn't you say the False One is real?"

"Yeah?" Zagiha wrinkled his nose up at him as if he was the stupidest person on earth. "And?"

"The way I was taught the story, the False One is to be sent down from the heavens to destroy us if we have another war." Mica sipped on his tea. "So a military presence here not only would be useless, but would just make our problems even worse."

"Ah…" Zagiha folded his arms. Mica made a good point. In reality, the Unforgivables were the least of their worries. "But it's not technically a war if we're able to quickly neutralize them before the conflict gets bigger."

"So if one side totally crushes the other, it's not really a war since they didn't get to fight back?"

"Precisely."

"That's quite a reach."

Zagiha scowled at him. "Well then, why hasn't the False One struck already if that's not the case?"

That was another good point. In the old stories, the conditions for the False One's arrival were never clearly defined. With the Unforgivables' uprising as violent as it was, that should've warranted at least a warning shot by now. She had no reason to doubt Zagiha's assertions that the False One was an actual entity, and Isaana seemed to genuinely believe in them, too, so was there something they were missing?

"Maybe it does have to do with the size of the conflict," said Crowe. "The Continental War was huge and hundreds of thousands of people were killed. This doesn't even light a candle to that."

"So it is in our best interest to stop the conflict before it escalates," said Rory.

"Besides, if it comes down to it, us Gods will fight the False One off," said Zagiha.

"But one of you are the False One?" interjected Mica. "And you don't know who?" He looked at Zagiha and scratched his chin. "Zagiha-sa?"

"What?"

"Why don't you just use your lie detectin' power to figure out who it is?"

Zagiha made a noise that sounded kind of like a donkey being choked by a toothbrush. "Wow!" he snapped. "Brilliant! Big brain moment from Michael! WhY dOn'T yOu JuSt UsE yOuR pOwEr? You think I haven't thought about that before? One, all the other Gods are convinced I'm the False One already. Two, Gods' minds are way harder to infiltrate than humans'! For me to be able to read them, they'd have to want me to. Otherwise, complete silence. And who'd want their mind probed? Or think that I'm not using my other power to make them believe it's not me? If they open their minds, I can brainwash them with lies. And THREE, my powers aren't working anyway."

He ranted on and on, but that was the gist of it. Mica didn't entertain his lecture. He just shrugged and continued enjoying his beverage. Isaana really did tank Zagiha's reputation with the other Gods, didn't she? But with the way he talked, it sounded like none of them trusted each other in the first place. None of them were in a position to make them vulnerable. Deep down, Hana knew Mica's suggestion was too practical for wishy-washy God politics, but it was still disheartening.

But that made Isaana's behavior even stranger. She had to have opened her mind up for Zagiha to polygraph her, and Hana knew he wasn't lying because she left herself susceptible to his mental manipulation attack. And if she believed him to be the False One, why would she let him in? Isaana was in no ways stupid or careless. But if her ability was controlling magic, maybe she tweaked his power to play him at his own game? Or could she even manipulate raw, unfiltered divine magic? Everything just raised more questions than answers, and while it put Isaana back into suspicion, another theory occurred to Hana.

"What if the False One doesn't know they're the False One?" she asked.

"Eh?" Zagiha balked. "What sort of idiot wouldn't know they're the harbinger of the apocalypse?"

Crowe swirled his tea about. Watching the liquid slosh in the cup, he sighed. "What's wrong with that theory?" he said. "Tell me, Your Holiness, do you have regular contact with the Outer One?"

"Never even met it," answered Zagiha. "Most Gods haven't. We get all our orders passed down from the higher-ups." He wrinkled his nose. "Look, to mortals I'm old, but to Gods I'm practically a baby. The law is a relatively new concept as far as human history goes…" And he huffed. "I'm pretty low in the pecking order."

"So," Crowe continued, "I know you don't have bodies in the Celestial Heavens, but would the Outer One have the ability to manipulate a lower-ranked God's consciousness?"

Zagiha chuckled "Oh, yes, easily."

"And would any of the other Gesmauran Gods try to get rid of the world-ending power if they knew they had it?"

"I can't say for sure, but hopefully, most would." Zagiha's eyes bugged out in realization. "Oh," he said, "Ohhh. So if it took one of us offline and stashed the power in there, then all it has to do is activate it…"

"Are there any gaps in your memory?" asked Hana.

Zagiha shook his head. "No, I don't think so. If we find a God who's missing time, then we might have an unwitting culprit."

All this time, Mica was silent. Hana didn't know what he was thinking. Was he frightened? She didn't mean to drag him into this. It wasn't an issue even a Sorcerer could help, and now all this information was dumped on him. But she never knew about Mica. The young man, while friendly, was mysterious in many ways.

Rory got up.

"Where are you going?" asked Zagiha.

"To the Gem Emporium," the High Priest answered. "Before we can undo the curse, you need magic. I'm going to ask if they know anything about transferring it."

"Oh, Rory, you are an angel!" said Zagiha. "Yes, we should all split up and try different sources."

"I'll be back in a couple hours," said Rory.

"Oh!" Mica finally piped up. "Why don't you stay for dinner?"

"Micaiah!" growled Pops. "Groceries cost money, boy!"

"Come on, Papa, we can afford it now." Mica gave Rory instructions to the Gem Emporium, and let him borrow one of the sled dogs to ride back and forth. They would take him right back was the justification. Rory bid them farewell and galloped off into the woods.

Meanwhile, Crowe took out his Message Crystal and rang Ffion. She didn't answer. He scowled in frustration and called her again, going outside to the back of the cabin.

"I'm gonna start on dinner," said Mica. "I'll be outside cookin' a goose over the fire if you need me. All my books are in the loft. Hopefully you'll find somethin'!"

And he made his exit as well.

Pops just leaned back in his recliner and went to sleep. Middle-aged men's ability to doze off was unparalleled.

Hana clambered up the ladder and entered the loft. It was a bit strange to be in Mica's room. After all, he was only a casual friend, and she couldn't help but feel she was imposing on his privacy in some way. But he gave her his permission, so it must be okay. First, she looked at the books on his desk. She opened one. It was a journal of some sort… oh, it was a bird-watching notebook, and complete with childish drawings of the birds Mica saw. In comparison, his penmanship was masterful. What a strange combination, but it reflected Mica's personality. She squinted. Had she seen this handwriting before? It looked familiar.

Of course, bird-watching books were useless. She flipped through a few more books on his desk, and switched to the shelves, finally finding some on magic. Hana tucked them under her arm and descended the ladder, giving them to Zagiha.

He opened one and flipped to the table of contents, while Hana took another. "Does that boy seem off to you?" he asked.

"What do you mean?" asked Hana.

"He's weird," said Zagiha.

He was one to talk!

"Mica is a little strange," said Hana, "and he spaces out sometimes, but he's a good person."

"That's not what I mean," he said. "He gives me a strange vibe. He's just not right."

He didn't explain what not being right meant, so the conversation petered out. They just flipped through the books, dog-earring any pages that might be helpful, and eventually they got so caught up in their reading, they didn't notice the time passing by.

"Hello!" Mica popped his head in through the door. "Dinner's ready! Herra Crowe and Rory are back now, and we're eatin' outside."

At the mention of dinner, Pops finally woke up and grabbed his cane, limping outside. Zagiha, Hana, and the corgis followed after. Mica had a picnic table set up, with six place settings and a giant roast goose in the center. He carved the bird, dishing out a portion for everybody, including the dogs. Mica poured everyone a glass of water flavored with various herbs, and encouraged them to eat up.

"Wow, thanks Mica!" said Hana, and she bit into the meat.

Uh. Oh no. It was dry as a bone, and flavored with exactly zero seasonings, not even salt. It's not that it was bad (okay, yes it was), but it was bland and uninspired. Still, she kept eating to be polite.

"Interesting recipe," said Zagiha. "What's the secret ingredient? Air?"

"No," said Mica. "Just goose."

At least the sarcasm flew over his head. Hana breathed a sigh of relief, and steered the conversation away from Mica's lack of cooking skills.

"I found some stuff on the theory of magic transfer," said Hana. "But the book just said it was possible. It didn't say how to do it."

"Same here," said Zagiha.

"I went to the Emporium to ask, but they had no idea, either," said Rory. He held up a large sack, filled to the brim with enchanted gemstones. "And they ended up, uh, upselling me."

"I tried over and over again to reach Ffion, but she won't pick up." Crowe shook his head. "The kids are on break right now, so I don't know what she's so busy with…"

"Well, this was a fantastic waste of time," said Zagiha. "Just because it's peaceful here doesn't mean the rest of the country is. I have to go back and rescue the Prime Minister, and I don't care if I lose my body! And, and Astrid!"

Mica chewed on his food. He seemed totally unfazed by the fact he had to chew it for half a minute before it could be swallowed. "I have an idea," he said.

"Yeah? And what's that, genius?" said Zagiha.

"At the Temple, there's a hot spring, and it's basically pure magic."

"The second miracle of Rirasiru!" Hana exclaimed.

Mica nodded. "Oh, you know about that?" He sawed off another piece of meat. "I mean, I imagine it would be hard for you to get any use out of magic that's been diluted through the environment. Isn't the magic humans use basically the table scraps of the Gods?"

"Yes." Zagiha narrowed his eyes at him. "Why in the world does a Worker know so much about this sort of stuff?"

"Mica and I have worked together many times in the past," said Crowe. He slipped the rest of his portion to the dogs while Mica wasn't looking. "Do you know how we met, Hana? Mica saved my life several years ago."

"Mica saves a lot of people. He just has a knack for it," said Pops. "But I remember you. You were half froze to death!"

Back in school, Silvio told Hana about his wild trip to Hakalai Pass with Jan. He swore her to secrecy that she wouldn't narc on Ffion, but she remembered every detail vividly. Mica showed up out of nowhere and saved them back then as well. It was good to have a reliable friend, but it was odd he was always in the right place at the right time.

Or she was overthinking things again and it was probably because Mica went in the woods every day to gather food.

Yep, that was it. The wheels in her mind had been spinning so much they went off the rails. She did want to help out, but all the same, she had no opportunity to rest or even process what she went through. She needed time to clear her head.

"So Herra Crowe taught me a lot about magic!" Mica said. He gathered up the empty dishes and took them to an outdoor trough, throwing them in with water from an unknown source. "But as I was sayin', you need hard mana, and the hot springs has it. People go up there to cure their illnesses, and it works much better than herbs or healin' spells. So maybe it would help you?"

Zagiha tapped his finger against the table. "All right, Nicholas, it's worth a shot. If the transfer is from God to God… it might just work!"

"Okay, let's head there first thing in the morning!" said Mica.

"First thing in the morning?" Zagiha got up and grabbed Mica's sponge, wringing it out over the dirty dishes. "No, no, we don't have the time!"

"Slow an' steady wins the race."

"… That's a story for three year olds, and not applicable to real life." He recklessly scrubbed at a dish. He didn't do much except smear things around a bit, but he was starting to get the gist of basic chores. "Plus, we couldn't get a room at the inn!"

"Why don't you stay over, then?" asked Mica.

"MICAIAH!" Pops shouted.

"Please?" Mica gave Pops the best puppy-dog eyes he could muster. Mica could charm his way out of a maximum-security prison. Pops stood no chance, and relented. "Let's see… Papa, you can sleep on the easy chair like always. Neiti Hana, you can take the couch. Herra Rory…" He paused, figuring out the logistics of housing six people in a tiny cabin. "I'm sorry, Rory, but all I have is a hammock. I could set it up between those two support beams… ah! That's what I'll do!"

"Don't worry about it," said Rory. "I'll be fine. Many people aren't nearly as considerate as you."

That was a dig at Zagiha. That was definitely a dig at him.

"And Herra Crowe and His Holiness can sleep in my bed!" Mica beamed.

"Where are you going to sleep?" asked Crowe.

Mica's smile faded, and he blinked. "Pardon?" he asked.

"Where are you going to sleep?" Crowe repeated. "You need to rest, too."

"Oh!" Mica cried, grinning once more. "I'll snuggle with my doggies!"

"… Doggies?" Zagiha said flatly. "How old are you again?"

"Somewhere between eighteen and twenty-one. Why?"

"Never mind. Look, Worker, sleeping in the doghouse is just a figure of speech! You can sleep in the bed with Ignatius." He turned away from the black-haired man and blushed. "I mean, sharing a bed pressed against Professor Crowe's perfect, muscular pecs, his breath hot and heavy against my neck… Terrible! Just terrible! I would definitely hate that and that is also definitely the reason why I can't sleep next to a total beefcake. Okay?" Yep, without his power, his lies were as airtight as mesh. "I'll just stay awake and do important God things."

"Okay," said Mica. "Well, thank you, then!"

With that, they finished cleanup and got ready for bed.

--

The party caught the gondola up the mountain to Rirasiru's Temple first thing in the morning, when they town was shrouded in mist and the sun barely peaked past the horizon. Hana was nervous. She didn't like the Temple. She didn't want to see the clergy with their injured backs, or the chains bolted into the floor, or that unsettling mask…

But she didn't know why the atmosphere was so tense with the others.

"Maybe we shouldn't be doing this," said Zagiha, finally breaking the silence.

"What do you mean, sir?" asked Rory.

He stared at his feet. "I wasn't thinking about it last night, but… it's a pretty ballsy move for me to come to Rirasiru's territory unannounced. And he's not even here. Doing this is terrible for my reputation."

"Don't worry, Your Holiness!" chirped Mica. "Your reputation is already terrible!"

Zagiha shot him a glare, but for once he didn't open his mouth.

"You're good at hidin' it, but you're in a lot of pain, aren't you?" Mica raised an eyebrow. "Plus, I don't think Rirasiru-sa cares about your petty God politics."

"Mica!" Crowe scolded.

"Eh, Melchior's right, as much as I hate to admit it." Zagiha looked out the cable car window, staring at the trees below. "Rirasiru was not only the baby, but the black sheep as well. He never showed up to our meetings."

"Did you ever meet him?" asked Hana.

Zagiha leaned back, crossing one of his legs across his lap. He drummed his fingers against it. "A long time ago. Like, twice. You know the weird kid in every class? He was the weird kid. Imagine being granted power by the Outer One itself and using it on doing minor favors? We were so jealous of him, and he infuriated us. And he never showed his face? I still wonder what was up with that." He tapped his foot in reminiscence. "He took his whole selflessness thing way too seriously. He was naïve. Nobody is ever inspired to be kind because someone else was kind. Nice people get taken advantage of, which is exactly what happened. Rirasiru, he showed a prim and proper face to the world, but the truth is… kid was a party boy."

"Party boy?" said Mica.

"Well, yeah. Rirasiru was spoiled to death!" Pot calling the kettle black. "In reality, he was a perverted, functioning alcoholic who never really did much for the world."

"Oh, really?" Mica placed a finger on his chin. "Papa told me a different story."

"As if!" Zagiha laughed and leaned into them, smirking about the juicy gossip he had to share. "Rirasiru was a polygamist." He whispered the last word, basking in the scandal of it all. "Selfless? Who has more than one wife?"

"Ah, but Your Holiness, isn't havin' several wives in rapid succession pretty much the same thing?" Mica's smile was sweet, and his tone soft as ever.

Zagiha sputtered a bit, his cheeks flushed red. "Shut up, Worker. Literally nobody asked. As I was saying, Rirasiru had his vices. But…" He smiled wanly. "I'm judgy in every sense, but seriously, don't we all? In the end, I believe he had his heart in the right place. He stuck to his beliefs, even if they were too pure-hearted for his own good. If he had just grown a backbone, he would've been the strongest of all of us." The drumming of Zagiha's fingers slowed down a bit, deep inside his memories. "The second time I saw him was when I learned he was being held captive. Gods are Gesmauran citizens, too, and protected by the law. What they did was kidnapping, and I went to his Temple to demand his release."

"And then what happened?" asked Crowe.

"Weirdo said he was sealed and imprisoned voluntarily. I know some people have weird preferences and all, but even though I couldn't use my power on him, I knew he was lying. I still remember the pain in his eyes." He shook his head. "But without voicing he was held against his will out loud, there was nothing I could legally do. I don't know what took him so long, but I'm glad he got out."

And that was all he got to say, as the Sorcerer gondola operators lifted the car to the dock and released their spell. They exited it, only to be greeted by a long line of priest and priestesses, dressed in black robes and veils covering the top half of their faces, prostrated to the ground.

An older man of mixed Eastern descent approached and bowed his head.

Hana remembered him. He was the High Priest, Mamoru. He looked even more frail than he did the last time, as though a single gust would blow him straight off the mountain.

"Welcome, Your Holiness," he said. "We have been expecting you."

"How did you know…?" asked Zagiha.

"I took the liberty of informing them, sir," said Rory. "As High Priests, it was our duty to communicate with one another."

"Oh, Rory, you're seriously too good."

"I am Mamoru, High Priest of Rirasiru." His head stayed down. "Thank you for gracing us with your presence. Please come in. Even in summer, it's cold out here."

They followed him inside the Temple and up the stairs leading to the hot spring.

The atmosphere was hot and stifling as usual, but it didn't seem to affect the staff bustling about. There were maids and gardeners and nurses in addition to the clergy, ranging from Unforgivables to Sorcerers. The solemn uniforms everyone wore were a stark contrast against the bright and tropical setting.

"I forgot how fancy Rirasiru's place was," said Zagiha. "It's like a spa in heregaHH!" He stepped in an errant puddle, causing a kaleidoscope of butterflies to flitter around them. "Oh no! Oh no! Why are there bugs here?" he said, er, squeaked.

Spiders were a very common fear; but Zagiha's phobia extended to all bugs. Hana watched him, amused at the almighty deity's freak-out over a bunch of butterflies.

"They're just butterflies, Zagiha-sa," said Mica. One perched on the tip of his finger and he gave it a light kiss. "Aren't they pretty?"

Zagiha's face twisted up in disgust. "Well, not all of us are fairy princesses, Mark! I don't want their spindly little legs all up in my business!"

"If you cry, your tears will attract them," said Mica. He smiled, closing his eyes, sweet as pie. "Did you know? Sometimes, butterflies drink blood."

"All right, I'm out," said Zagiha. He started to turn around, when Mamoru opened up the door to the springs.

"Good morning, Your Holiness!" came a chorus of light, musical voices. Lined up were a score of beautiful young women wearing very skimpy bikinis and glamorous body jewelry that accented their large ass… ets.

"On second thought, butterflies ARE pretty," said Zagiha.

Gross. Gross!

"Please allow the holy concubines to attend to your needs," said Mamoru, leaving them be.

"Would you like something to drink, sir?" asked a perky blonde.

"May I scrub your back?" asked another, squeezing a loofah not at all suggestively.

"Ah, now I get it," said Zagiha. "I take back what I said earlier; Rirasiru's a genius."

"I-It is the duty of a High Priest to be by his liege's side at all times," said Rory, sweating a bit. "May I stay by your side, sir? For… protection?"

"Of course, Rory!" said Zagiha, twinkling brightly.

"If it's okay with you, I'd like to study the magical properties of the water," said Crowe.

Ignatius Crowe was so academically asexual; Hana really believed that's what he wanted. Unlike… some other people.

"Yes, Herr Crowe!" Zagiha sparkled. "Please sit next to me, veryyy closely, so we can study." Then he turned to Hana and scowled. "All right, so I know how much you love watching me bathe, but no girls allowed."

"What?" asked Crowe.

"Shoo. Begone!" He clapped at her. "I don't want your cooties."

Hana grimaced. "Believe me, I'm going," she said. "I don't want to be scarred any further."

"How about you?" asked a concu—uhhh bath attendant to Mica. "Would you like to bathe in the spring, too?"

"No thanks," said Mica, folding his hands around his back. "I want to look around a bit."

"Oh, thank Gods," Zagiha sighed. "Hana, take your probable serial killer friend with you and have him tell you disturbing animal facts for a few hours, m'kay?"

"LEAVING!" Hana hissed, and she shuffled out the door. Mica was quick on her heels. They weren't able to walk three steps before Mamoru stopped them.

"Are you going to give an offering to the God today?" he asked.

"Uh…" Hana sputtered.

"Not today, thanks," said Mica.

"You really should…" said Mamoru.

"There will be no offering today," Mica said again, but this time, with a more authoritative tone. The conversation paused for a few moments. Mica's candy-coated smile didn't falter a bit.

Mamoru backed down.

"… Do what you wish," he said, "but you can't take that with you…"

"SQUAWK! HELLO!"

Out of nowhere, there was a scarlet macaw perched on Mica's head.

"Why not?" asked Mica.

"That one is old and mean," said Mamoru.

"Aww, he's not mean." Mica reached up and scratched it on the head. "He just wants treats and head scritches, that's all!" The parrot squawked again. Hana assumed that was in agreement. "Deep down, you're just a big baby, aren't you, buddy?" he cooed.

"SQUAWK!"

Mamoru just sort of walked away, defeated.

Mica took the bird off his head and cradled it, tickling its beak. This continued for a few moments before he perched it on his left shoulder.

"Thanks for getting me out of that," said Hana. "Where are you going, anyway?"

Mica started his way to the lower floors. "I wonder where?" he said. Hana had nothing else to do than follow him, so she tagged along. He wasn't in any hurry. Every so often, he stopped to smell the flowers and admire the animals. They walked all over the Temple. It really was a wondrous place. It was filled with interesting art and items from foreign lands.

Before his imprisonment, Rirasiru traveled the world. Did he bring these back with him? Or were they gifts from admirers.

They went past a hydroponic garden, growing exotic produce that Gesmauran soil couldn't nature. Mica left the macaw in there to nibble at the juicy pomegranates.

There was a room filled with crystals, gigantic formations that sparkled in every magnificent color. This must be part of the mountain, too. When Mica brushed his hand against them, they each made different tones, sounding like a xylophone. He laughed and played them some more, cobbling together a rudimentary song.

They went inside the kitchen. Hana knew he wouldn't pass that up. He took some pastries and shared them with her. They tasted delicious, the berry filling sweet with just a little tartness, and the crust buttery, flaky, and golden brown.

And somehow, they ended up in the place where the Unforgivables worked. Hana looked up. Far above, she saw the balcony looking down on them. It was so high up. They weaved their way through the tables, covered in raw materials. Mica inspected each one silently.

Or… no, he was inspecting the people.

"Quite a setup!" said Mica to an Unforgivable.

She flinched, tensing up. "Ah… I guess so," she said timidly.

"What are you makin'?" He leaned over. "Oh! A basket! That's very well done. You took good care makin' sure its watertight."

The Unforgivable relaxed a bit and chuckled, blushing. "I-I've been practicin' a lot. Thanks. I hope it makes me some money."

"So you get to keep the money you earn?" Mica picked up a reed and twirled it around.

"Some of it," she muttered. "The rest goes to our room and board."

"Girl, it's way better than it was twenty years ago," said the old woman working next to her. "Be grateful. They used to work us like dogs, an' we didn't get to keep none of the money at all!"

"Hmm." Mica looked around. "Would you say they treat you well?"

"It's hard work," said the younger girl, "but it's the best gig I've ever got. Nobody screams at us or hits us, so I like it way more than when I was on the streets."

"Good to hear it. If I see your basket it town, I'll make sure to buy it!"

"Thank you!"

Mica smiled, nodded his head, and left them to somewhere else, deeper and deeper into the bowels of the Temple. Finally, they stopped at a dead end. Mica felt around the wall.

"What are you doing?" asked Hana.

Mica didn't answer her. He just kept searching for whatever it was he was working for. Hana lost her patience, and turned around when—

"Found it! Boop!" Mica pressed a hidden button, and suddenly the walls shook, pulling up like a drawbridge to reveal a dark passage. "C'mon!" he said, and the door closed behind them, leaving them in the dark.

Hana lit her staff and highlighted their surroundings. A cave system, complete with water dripping from the stalactites above. A rudimentary path stretched in front of them.

"Where is this?" she asked.

"A secret place I found," he said. He didn't tell her the circumstances that led to his discovery, but knowing Mica, he probably tripped into it. "I have somethin' to show you."

And he moved with purpose down the trail.

Maybe it was the oppressive nature of the cave, but Mica's energy grew darker as they walked.

"Isn't the Temple a wonderful place?" he asked. But for once, he let her read the subtext in his voice. His words weren't genuine at all.

"There's a lot of great things about it," said Hana. They kept their volume down. "It's beautiful. There's nature, fun things, and they do a lot of good for people. It's like a paradise. But…"

"Yes, you noticed," he said. They continued on. "Zagiha-sa doesn't know anything. Beneath that hot spring, there's a secret."

"Yes, they scarify themselves…"

Mica stopped, and he chuckled morbidly. "Oh? So that's what you saw? That's certainly bad, but…"

They stopped at the end, which terminated in a small chamber. Mica threw a rusty grate aside. Was that a door once? She touched it. Solid iron, rusted by the dampness and time itself. It was a… cell door.

"You've grown a lot since I saw you last," said Mica. He stood still in the center of the chamber. It was wet and cold. Far above, she heard the sloshing of water. "You used to be so shy and unsure."

"When Silvio left, I had to grow strong for my parents." But sometimes, she still felt timid and indecisive.

"We are directly below the teahouse," said Mica. He crossed his arms.

Hana looked down. The ground was covered in some sort of dust. And now that she looked closer, it was on the walls as well. She rubbed some away and sniffed it on her finger. Ash? In a place like this? How? This place was scary, and the atmosphere by now was pitch black.

"What is this place?" she asked.

"Ah," said Mica. "This is the sacrifice room."

Hana dropped her staff. It clattered against the stone floor. She staggered back. "Sacrifice room?" she echoed. "Why…?"

"Not humans or animals," he said, picking the staff up. He handed it back to her. "No mortal was ever harmed in here."

"Then what do you mean by sacrifice?"

"Rirasiru was a worker of miracles, who made everyone's wish come true." He folded his hands and hooded his eyes. "But you can't make somethin' from nothing. In exchange for one life, the universe demands another. Rirasiru was the God of Selflessness, thus paid the price for the wisher instead."

She read this in Rirasiru's diary.

Mica smiled again. "So the universe made him die, over and over again. Every time he granted a wish, he burned to death."

"Ah…" Her hand trembled.

So that's what Rirasiru meant.

"There's a trap door from the tea house down to here. They didn't want anyone findin' out the truth, so when it came time to pay the sacrifice, they threw him down here so nobody would hear his screams."

"That's awful…" She clenched the staff. "Why did you show me this?"

"Because I had a feelin' you wanted to know."

He had her there. Ever since the High Priestess, Rina, cut off Mamoru a few years ago, there was a morbid fascination lingering in the back of her mind of what the rest of the story was.

"And why do you know about this?" she asked.

"Papa adopted me," said Mica. "But he had a real son once. He grew ill, so once he came here to beg the God to save his life. He was able to extend it for four years. But somehow, the process went wrong, and Papa ended up discoverin' the secret. Just the older members of the clergy, you, me, Papa, and Rirasiru himself know this."

"Your dad lived with the guilt all those years, didn't he?"

Mica nodded. "And in the end, little Mikhail died anyway."

"… I see. I actually did need to see this. Thanks."

"Let's go back," said Mica, and he led her back out of the cave system to the light once more in silence. They ascended the stairs, to the wonderful hot spring where such horror lurked below.

"Hi, Hana!"

And just like that, Zagiha broke her out of her funk, waltzing up to her in a fluffy bathrobe and a glass of juice in his hand.

"I feel so rejuvenated!" he chirruped.

Rory and Crowe were soon behind him. Crowe had a vial of sacred water clutched in his hand.

Hana definitely didn't want to know what went on during that bath.

"Did it work?" she asked.

Zagiha stretched his arms, bouncing up down. "I'm fighting fit! I was only able to recover a fraction of my mana, but it healed my body right up!"

"My joints don't hurt anymore, either," said Rory, "and my summer allergies cleared up."

"This is a magical marvel!" said Crowe. "… What's wrong, Hana?"

"A-Ah!" She shook herself back to the waking world. "N-Nothing!"

Zagiha raised an eyebrow at her. Was his lie detector working again? Gods, of all the possible times…

"I'm going to get Astrid," he announced. "I'm going to take her to her parents' house in the countryside, then I'm rejoining the government in Modrica."

"So this is where we say goodbye?" asked Hana.

Zagiha nodded. "I still need to find out how to undo the curse, but I'm needed for negotiations at the moment. I don't know how long this'll take, but we'll meet again eventually." He summoned his mallet and opened a portal. "I promised to help find your brother, and I intend to keep it." He stepped in. "… Thank you, Hana," he said. "For everything. You really are a great person."

The portal closed, and he disappeared.

"What a strange fellow," said Crowe.

"Now what?" asked Hana.

"I'm going to let your parents know you're safe," said Crowe. "Stay in Minumna until this all blows over. I'm headed back to Komouruska. Maybe I'll find something in Isaana's library about God magic. If anyone has any writing on that topic, it's her."

"I will be staying here with High Priests Mamoru and Rina," said Rory. "We will be hashing out an alliance between the houses of Rirasiru and Zagiha. They've also given you permission to stay here, Fröken Hana."

She froze up.

"Actually…" she started.

"You're welcome to crash on my couch," said Mica. "Papa spoiled me so much, I have him wrapped around my finger, so he'll agree to it. Plus, we could use a Sorcerer's help with the chores."

"I want to stay with Mica," Hana said.

"Okay," said Crowe. He pulled out a Message Crystal. "Rory heard about how Zagiha destroyed your old one, so he bought you a new one."

"Thank you," she said to Rory, accepting it. She opened it up. All her contacts were there. And yep. There he was. Zagiha. She knew she wasn't free of him. She bet in a few hours he was going to call her, blathering on and on about whatever.

But, well, she sort of missed the sound of his voice already. Her world felt empty without his incessant chatter.

"I'm glad everything ended well," said Crowe. "Before we head our separate ways, how about we go out to celebrate?"

"There's a stand that sell the yummiest desserts," said Mica. "We can go there."

"Sounds perfect. Sweets are on me. But, Mica…" Crowe squinted at him.

"Yes, Herra Crowe?"

"Where did that bird come from?"

--

Zagiha arrived to broken and empty streets, covered with rubble. Windows were shattered, doors were kicked in, and the air smelled sharply of smoke.

"Vad fan?" he muttered. "Did a storm come through this place?"

He walked along the road, and then he heard it.

Screams and gunshots.

Summoning his mallet, he broke out into a sprint in the direction of the noise, tripping over something soft and squishy. He didn't dare find out what it was. He just kept running and running, to a scene of pure pandemonium.

People from all three castes fighting each other, some against their own. Others tried to run away to escape the violence, clawing and trampling each other in desperation. It was a full-blown riot.

"What the hell happened here?" Zagiha stopped a runner. "In just a day and a half…?"

"The train station!" the man gasped. "I tried to sneak out of the city with the food shipment, with my family, and some other Sorcerers… and they attacked us! I can't find my daughter! They shot my wife!"

"The Unforgivables?"

"Yes!" he sobbed.

An Unforgivable aimed their fun and shot at the man, but this time, Zagiha knew what to look for. "Praesidio!" he bellowed, blocking its flight with a shield spell. "Run, man, run!" he shouted. "And when you're far away, hide! We'll find your daughter, okay?" He didn't need to be told twice. Zagiha swung his hammer at the gunner, sending them crumbling into an alley. At this point, he didn't care if they were dead or not.

They broke their promise, and it was Zagiha's duty to punish the untruthful. In a blind rage, he beat the Unforgivables to a pulp, casting shield spells with reckless abandon. Finally they got the message and the last ones retreated. He didn't pursue them. Panting, he dashed to Astrid's law firm.

It was located maybe a few hundred meters from the train station.

When he got there, he couldn't believe his eyes. The building was wrecked; parts of it burned and caved in.

"No!" he screamed, and he ran inside with no regards to his own safety. "Astrid!" he cried. "Astrid! Darling, where are you?"

He couldn't find her. There was only one more place to look. The break room. Zagiha tried the door. Locked. In a rage, he kicked it open, splintering the furniture barricade behind it with his super strength.

"Claras ardeat!" A defense spell sailed at him, which he narrowly dodged. "Don't come further!" came the voice behind the sofa. "If you come any further, I'll stab you! I have a big piece of glass!"

"Astrid?" Zagiha calmed down a bit. "Astrid! It's okay! It's me!"

Astrid slowly rose to her feet, dropping the impromptu shank. "… Zagiha?" She illuminated him in the darkness. "Is that you?"

"Yes, ma Cherie!" He ran up and embraced her. "I'm so glad you're safe! How long have you been here?"

"Since I left your apartment," she said. "There were client files I needed to protect, and then the riots broke out. I've had nothing except old coffee and peanuts."

"I got here just in time, then. Come on. This place is about to collapse." He grabbed her hand and led her out the office.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"To safety!" he said. "I'm getting you out of this city."

"What?" she pulled her hand away. "But that's not fair."

Zagiha huffed. "What do you mean?"

"If you sneak me out, you have to do the same for all the other citizens. Doesn't everyone else have loved ones worried about them?"

"Astrid!" he hissed.

"I have to stay and help somehow."

"ASTRID!" he screamed. "I DO care about everyone else! But I spent our entire marriage serving the people. Can't you let me do something for you for once?"

CRASH.

Astrid never got to answer.

Blood trickled from her scalp down her face. Astrid's mouth opened in shock, but no sound came out. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head, and she crumpled into a lifeless heap. Where she stood before, a person holding the shattered neck of a glass bottle. Another Sorcerer. He and Zagiha made brief eye contact before he ran away.

Zagiha dropped his mallet, and it faded away into light.

"Astrid?" he choked. "… Astrid?"