When Tristan reached the top of the hill, he couldn’t help but look back. Blame it on childish curiosity, something he might never grow out of. Standing high above were the mountain range he traversed. Somewhere near the top, in a clearing unseen from the ground, the village he called home dwelled. “Opal. Ur. I’ll be home before you know it,” he muttered to himself.

  After his descent from the mountain, the days following were long and uneventful, but it was a welcome change, considering what he endured in the forest. He walked on with no road in sight. Whatever dirt trail existed vanished beneath the grass some time ago, he concluded. All he had for navigation was Prospero. He floated on, only stopping to give Tristan time to rest. The lad hoped that they’d find a road soon enough. Judging by what he heard in Ariel, Tristan knew that all towns, crops, rivers and lakes weren’t too far from the major trails.

  Still, perhaps Prospero was bringing him some form of good fortune. Not even a day from leaving the forest, they found an abandoned wagon. There wasn’t a sign that anyone had been nearby in some time. A broken wheel had kept the original owners from proceeding any further, whatever their destination happened to be. As to where they were now, Tristan tried not to think about it. “When the goddess of fate provides a gift, do not pass it by,” the god said.

  Heeding his advice, Tristan searched for what he could. A brown rider’s cloak was free for the taking. It was a little smaller, a perfect fit for Opal, but it was enough to keep the sun’s hateful gaze off his skin. An old waterskin laid hidden underneath the seat. Stale water resided in the leather. Tristan drank it thankfully. Anything was better than dying of thirst. As for food, all he found was a bag of nuts. “What are these?” Tristan asked. Not once had he seen anything like them.

  “I believe they’re called peanuts,” the god answered. Thanks to his new supplies, there was little chance of him passing out from malnutrition. Though it wasn’t much, his years living in Ariel made it more than enough.

  Prospero didn’t criticize him for taking a break from time to time, but Tristan felt a tense aura radiating from the god. Thanks to their excursion in the woods, he had a reason for the urgency. Though his guide never said anything outright, Tristan knew something was wrong. He could see it on the god’s face. Wherever they went, Prospero’s eyes scrunched up in perplexity. For the time being, he allowed the god to keep secret whatever was troubling his mind. The lad had enough to deal with on his own.

  His experience in the woods did not leave him unscathed. Days after, he could still, in his quiet moments, feel the grass around him, pulling on his body, seeking his death. The returning sensation sent him into a panic, causing his body to tense. One night, he dreamed of being strangled by vines that sought to pull him into the very earth. He burst from his nightmare, taking big gulps of air as the green tendrils vanished from his mind.

  “Bad dream?” Prospero had said in the dark. Between them was a small campfire, burned down to its last embers. “I have them from time to time myself. Though I doubt ours would have much in common.” Tristan didn’t bother asking what he meant. He wasn’t much for talking with the nightmare lingering in his heart.

  When he did not have anything else to think about, he knew that the landscape they walked was a wonderful place. The sky above was so vast and far away. Back in Ariel, the clouds were closer, as if they would drop down and smother everyone. Meanwhile, the earth was a bit hilly ahead of him was flat, but after the mountain descent, he would not have it any other way. Out in the distance, he could see various larger hills and mountains, some of which were in their path. He wondered whether or not they would cross some of them before all was said and done. Regardless, that would be a long time from then. Despite his uncertainty, he couldn’t help pondering about what laid out on the horizon with the faintest trace of excitement.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  All the while, a particular question lurked in his mind. “Where are all the gods?” he asked, fearful of what the answer would be.

  At this, Prospero laughed. “Do you think all gods walk around peeking over your shoulder to make sure you’re a good little boy?”

  “No, but we haven’t found one in the last week. I was sure we’d find one before now.”

  “The world of the divine is far more than you know.” Pausing, the god said, “Perhaps it would be best to explain a little about the immortal world.” Chuckling to himself, he added, “It’s not as if you have anything better to do.” Tristan acquiesced with little complaint. Until he was free from his accursed vision, he had to make his way through this confusing world of gods and men. Perhaps he could learn something that could save him one day.

  “Understanding the world of spiritual and physical realms is an important, howbeit short, lesson.” Stretching out his arms, he gestured to the world around them. “You, and all living beings, dwell here in the world. Meanwhile, all gods, and other spiritual beings, exist on a plane that the physical beings do not. Imagine the world as two halves, divided by a single bottomless, seemingly endless chasm. Could a human cross it?”

  “Of course not,” Tristan replied.

  “Good, you understand the basics of human limitation, you are a wise young man,” Prospero answered. Tristan’s eyebrows raised. Whether the god was mocking him or not was lost to him.

  “What if I told you that the two halves are not so far apart, but very close, and only a mirror keeps mankind from seeing how close they walk to the gods?” Prospero said.

  “I understand that part,” Tristan interrupted. “My eyes allowed me to see past the mirror.”

  The god huffed. “That may be, but I’m trying to get to a point. If you know everything already, explain the hierarchy of the gods.”

  His sudden request left Tristan speechless. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he admitted.

  “That’s right. So, why don’t you listen for the time being?” The snark in the god’s voice was palpable. “Now, where was I? O yes, while mortals can’t bridge that gap, present company excluded, gods and spirits do so on a whim. However, there are limitations for what we are able to do. Back in Ariel, I was omnipresent. It was under my protection. It was mine to control, everything was under my influence. Beyond my realm of influence, it will be as if I have little power at all. While I am by no means powerless, any strength I have is a bit different than it was back there.”

  “So that’s why that creature was so powerful,” Tristan concluded, remembering the difficulties Prospero had in destroying it.

  “Yes,” the god admitted to his chagrin. Changing the subject, he said, “The highest of the gods serve in the pantheon. In the divine realm, we call them the Arch-gods. They are the heavenly forces that rule the world and everything in it. All bow to their will. Only twelve dwell amongst them. Next are the Heavenly Lords. There are twenty-four in their ranks. They divided the world into realms they rule. Underneath that level are the Earthly Lords. They control the mountains, rivers, seas, and wind. This land, unless anything has changed, belongs to Sif.” A faint smile played on his lips. “Have to mind my manners around her. Can’t have her husband come around and start cracking skulls.”

  Tristan ran over the list of deities in his mind. At that moment, a thought came to mind. “If Ariel was your chosen domain, how did our lives become so messed up?” It was a bold statement, one that risked bringing out the god’s ire. He didn’t care. It was a question that deserved an answer. If this god cared about Ariel as much as he acted, it made no sense that everyone would suffer as much as they had for decades.

  Tristan didn’t bother to ask anything else. Prospero had some explaining to do. He wasn’t surprised that the god said nothing in return. What left him bewildered was how long the god remained in silence. “Answer the...” he demanded, but that was as far as he got.

  Turning, Tristan realized that the god was no longer at his side.