Circuits & Sorcery

Chapter Ten - Conversation with a God

Sir Reginald felt the pouch around his waist become alive with activity as the cultist turned mouse started to protest at his confinement. Desperate to both make sure that the cultist was secure, but also safe, Reginald attempted to move his free arm towards the pouch. As he struggled against the assassin’s hold, he felt the grip around his neck tighten, blocking off his air supply. It didn’t matter, he had successfully moved his hand to the pouch, which he now felt had a small hole in it. Reginald attempted to stop the small rodent from escaping but it was no use as the mouse easily squeezed its way through the knight’s hands, where it dropped to the floor. The assassin glanced down, before he attempted to crush the cultist under his boot. It was no use, Keygoire saw an opportunity and turned the mouse back into a man. This caused the assassin to release Sir Reginald as the cultist unleashed a flurry of attacks upon the assassin.
The knight hit the floor hard, but he ignored the pain and turned around to see the assassin in a brawl with the cultist. Sir Reginald still had an obligation to keep the cultist safe, so, ignoring the pain from his broken nose, he sprang to his feet, ready to fight. Then a blast of plasma struck the assassin in the back. It immediately began to eat through the man’s armour, but as it did it revealed another of the Orbs of Regna, which the plasma proceeded to also eat through. The result was another void explosion which consumed both the assassin and the cultist. Reginald lunged at the void, not knowing what he would do, but knowing that he needed to save the man he had offered safety to. Sir Reginald ended up diving into empty space as the void explosion vanished as quickly as it had appeared, leaving no trace of either the assassin or the cultist.
Sir Reginald had promised to protect this man, had promised to keep him safe, on his word as a Knight of Solas. He had failed.
The blow to his honour, to his loyalty, and to his God, hurt far more than the broken nose that continued to drip blood onto the dry dusty stone floor.
Then Reginald felt a kind hand on his shoulder and turned to face captain Ellison. She said nothing, but the way she closed her eyes and held her head against his own let him know that she understood.
“I failed him.” Reginald sputtered, the emotion of the loss rushing out.
“I lost six…” The captain then stopped, glanced over to the body of Valentine, then she continued, her voice more pained. “Seven members of my crew today, I failed them all.” Ellison’s voice was soft, low, and meant only for him. She continued her speech as she held the knight’s head to her own. “We don’t stop through, we continue, we help more in the place of those who we’ve failed.” Reginald put his hand over hers and allowed himself to take in the wisdom of her words.
“Thank you, kind lady. You say you have never had contact with the Gods, yet you speak with the wisdom of a seer.”
“If you two are quite done, we still have to save the squire boy!” Keygoire may have been rude, and lacked patience, but he was, as always, correct.
“Quinn!” Keygoire pushed himself to his feet and rushed off toward the first doorway, which happened to lead to the cult’s sinful shrine to their vile deity. In front of the shrine, looking like some demonic animal sacrifice to a dark God, Quinn was laid out on the floor with his hands and feet bound. The poor boy had a gag in his mouth, which had been soaked with a combination of his salvia and the tears that ran softly down his face as he quietly sobbed to himself. As soon as his eyes laid upon Keygoire his expression changed, from resigned misery to new hope.
“Quinn, don’t worry, I’m here.” Keygoire reassured the squire as he knelt down and began to untie the lad, starting with his gag. As soon as the boy’s mouth was free, he began to sob out loud, uncontrollably, as the fear unleashed itself.
Reginald finished untying the boy’s bonds and then just held the scared child close to him.
“It’s okay Quinn. They’re all dealt with now, we’ll get you home, back to Athelbury.”  The scared boy just continued to sob into Reginald’s tunic.
The Knight suddenly felt the eyes of an audience and as he turned around, he noticed that both captain Ellison and Keygoire were watching them.
“Keygoire, why don’t we go and check on Sam and Theo outside?” The captain suggested, wisely giving him and Quinn the space that they needed.

The old wizard was surprised that the battle had gone so well. They had only lost a single member of their makeshift party, which was better than he had anticipated. Then he looked at captain’s Ellison’s face, saw the pain and grief there, and he was reminded of the value of a single life.
For as wise as Keygoire was, he often lost track of the more, intimate, personal, parts of life. He was over four-thousand years old, everyone he had loved had long since passed on. Over the long years he had watched generations of his own family grow from fresh eyed babes to glassy eyed old folk. Eventually, sometime around his great-great-grandchildren, he had grown disconnected from such foolish personal attachments. His magic had allowed him to remain alive, but with it he had become separated from the relationships that others cherished so dearly.
Yet as Keygoire looked at captain Ellison he saw the familiar grief that he had once, long ago, felt himself as those he cared deeply for all passed on, one after another. Their lives were fleeting, short-lived, and therefore a foolish use of his time, time that could be better applied to the study of the arcane arts. Which was why Keygoire didn’t know why he pulled the captain aside for a private word as they reached the cave’s mouth.
“Captain Ellison, my condolences for the death of Valentine, he was a brave soldier that gave his life honourably.” The words felt strange for the wizard to say out loud, and he was sure they sounded unnatural as he said them. While he had meant the words, he had forgotten how to say them earnestly. The captain just nodded at him.
“Let’s just move on. Sam will be waiting for us.” Her voice was strained with emotion, so he simply let the subject drop and followed her out of the cave, into the late evening sun that had bathed the crater in a warm orange colour.
The pilot, Sam, was inspecting the two strange craft that the assassin’s had arrived in. They seemed at home in the odd machines. When they spotted the captain and the wizard they jumped out of the craft’s cramped looking pilots’ seat and climbed down the thin metal ladder to the floor. As soon as they were standing on solid ground the curious device they had attached to their belt flared up and Theo flashed into existence. The pilot started to walk over to the captain and wizard with the AI floating along the floor next to them. 
“They’re fantastic battleships, and besides the missing navigation orb for VSD travel, both are in near perfect condition. Once we have that orb returned to its dock, they will be a real technological marvel. So, did you get it?” Sam seemed full of hope, then their face dropped as they noticed that it was only the two of them returning. “Wait a minute, where’s Valentine and that strange knight?” The concern was obvious in their voice.
“Reginald’s fine. He’s making sure that the boy we rescued is okay, the poor thing seems pretty traumatised.” The absence of Valentine was not lost on Sam.
“What about Val?”
“He, well, he didn’t make it Sam. We lost him, and we lost the orb as well. It exploded, just like the last one.” The captain took Sam’s hand in her own. “I’m sorry.”
“No…” The word trailed off as White’s started to stare into the middle distance.
“It’s not your fault Sam.” Theo offered; his voice seemed to pull the pilot back to the present moment.
“I know. Let’s just focus on the bigger problem. How are we getting home?” The pilot’s voice was shaky and uncertain, but Keygoire understood the urge to focus on the work that needed to be done.
“Without a navigational orb, I’m not sure we can get home.” The captain’s voice sounded sad, resigned to a failed mission.
“I’m not so sure that we are without an orb.” Theo looked towards Keygoire as he said this. After a brief pause, the AI continued. “My sensors are picking up emissions identical to that of the orb that exploded onboard the Abyss, within a concealed pouch carried by Keygoire.”
“You have an orb on you‽” The question from the captain sounded more like an accusation than a query.
“Yes he does.” The answer came from Keygoire, who had chosen the worst moment possible to rejoin the party. He was joined by the squire boy, who was quiet but still visibly shaken.
“I have an Orb of Regna, one that is needed within Biblio, so that it can be contained and studied further. We have much to learn about these strange orbs and their connection to the Gods. But regardless, that changes very little of your plight, we have lost our connection and ability to fool the God of Destruction with the absence of that assassin and his armour. The orb would be useless to you even if I did decide to offer it to your party.” The wizard tightened his grip upon his staff, ready to defend the orb within his possession.
“That’s not really true.” The pilot interjected. “We can’t travel through void space, through the realm of Interitus, but surely it stands to reason, that if it’s possible to travel through his realm then it must also be possible to travel through the realms of other Gods. Why couldn’t Sir Reginald ask their God for permission to use their realm as a means of returning us to Ociea Prime?”
“Would that work?” The captain questioned the wizard and the knight.
“If Solas allowed us, then as far as my understanding of the holy realms is concerned then, yes, that would work.” Sir Reginald offered up.
“Can you ask Solas for us?” The request from the pilot was more of a plea than a query, their desperation to return home was obvious.
“We help those we can, in place of those we lost.” Keygoire then looked at the captain. “Isn’t that right captain? So yes, I will petition my lady Solas.” The pilot smiled. This group were insufferable with their affectionate natures. Being around them had obviously gotten the better of Keygoire, as he handed the orb over to the knight so that he could converse with his God.

As the Orb of Regna left the grip of the wizard and touched the gauntleted hand of Sir Keygoire, it erupted into the most brilliant and beautiful light that the knight had ever seen. He knew now that this light was Neamh, the realm of Solas. As he gazed into the celestial light he focused on Solas, on all the preys he had offered to her over his years of loyal service and dedication to her, on the love he felt for his chosen God.
When he looked around, he found himself within a realm of heavenly light. He was standing upon the surface of golden water, perfectly calm with not a ripple in sight. He looked down to see fish shining with radiant scales of every colour he could imagine peacefully swimming around under the surface of the water. As he looked back up, he found himself looking at elegant pavilion. The pillars were carved from a pleasing white wood that looked almost like marble, while the roof was constructed from the same wood but with strands of golden hair making up the thatched coverings. The floor was made from the same golden hair, woven into the most picturesque rug that Keygoire had ever seen. A golden sun, emanating a warmth that reached down into the knight’s soul framed the pavilion perfectly. Sat within the centre of the building, seemingly waiting for Keygoire to join her, was a woman with skin made from the same golden light that emanated from the orb and golden sun behind her.
Keygoire walked calmly towards the strange figure, aware that he was about to ask a favour of a God, yet he felt no sense of fear or unease.
“My brave knight, would you care to join me for a cup of tea?” Solas’ voice was as comfortable and smooth as the finest silk in the world.
“I would be honoured my lady.” His voice sounded harsh compared to hers.
“Then please, sit down, and relax. I know why you’re here; I’ve been watching you since you first touched the Orb of Regna.” As she spoke, Solas pulled a teapot from the air. She then began to pour tea into two teacups that had not been there before she had started to pour the liquid. The motion was flawless, perfectly filling each teacup with a single, unbroken movement that left the cups each filled to the ideal level. She then picked up one of the cups and offered it to Keygoire.
“Thank you, kind lady.”
“Your friends can use my realm for the purpose of travel. That’s of no concern to me. I’d rather not use the precious time we have together speaking of that.”
“You’re too kind, my lady. May I be so bold as to enquire what it is that you would like to speak to me about?”
“Oh my poor brave knight. I’d like to talk about your faith, and the doubt you’re feeling within your heart. You failed me today, or so you feel, which is why I wanted to share this drink with you. What do you think of the tea set?” As Keygoire looked at the cup in his hands he noticed that it was made from fine porcelain, but the white colour of the material was broken up with lines of gold. As he looked closer at it, he realised that the cup had once shattered, but the pieces had been repaired, with the cracks filled with a golden glue.
“It was broken but repaired.”
“Precisely. When it hit the floor and shattered into dozens of separate pieces, it wasn’t the end of its journey. The scars it bares from that incident only went to make it more beautiful. You feel you have failed me, because you failed to keep your word to Christopher, the cultist you offered refuge to, but because of you, he found his way to me. While he may have lost his life, like the cup breaking upon the floor, that doesn’t mean it’s the end of his journey.” The God took a sip of her tea before addressing Keygoire once more. “Alas, our time is at an end, at least for now brave knight.”
When he looked up, he was standing in the crater with Keygoire and the crew of the Abyss once more. The Orb of Regna glowing a warm golden colour in his hands.

© Robyn Timmons, 2025