Chapter 8
Name the Father

Light the candles. Say the prayer. The Three-Faced God is always watching. He never speaks, never moves, but He watches our actions. Glory be unto His Names.

Her bare feet were chilled by the stones, warmed by the occasional rug thrown across the floor. It was a small building, a single circular room with the altar in the center. The church was chilled by the sea air that was turning towards winter. Olivia would need to start thinking about dipping into the church funds for another brazier and fuel. No need for the faithful followers to freeze in their seats.

Follower, that is. Olivia was the Three-Faced God’s only true disciple on the Coast. She lived in the church that was derided as the Deadlight, and tried to make do.

Seer Olivia raised her hands to the candle. She whispered a spell, catching the flame in her hands. She walked through the building, lighting the candelabras as she passed them by. Before the sun even rose, there needed to be fire. If there was one thing the church was known for, it was the celebration of light. For a building that was so small, its walls were filled. Nine windows flew from the floor to the ceiling, the eastern ones already starting to catch the morning rays.

In between the windows were the artworks. The priestess did not know who painted these grotesque beings. Demons, angels, dragons and even rival gods, all embracing the power of light. The paintings blended into each other, and were rooted to the walls, impossible to be moved. Olivia had tried several times.

She lit the candles around the altar with what magic she had, and then tended to the body of her church, as well as her own. The grounds were spotless. She grew wheat, and had a fine set of fruit trees outside the church. Pears, peaches, even a lone apple tree was available to her. Their fruits available to any who might pass by.

Olivia selected an apple today, biting into the crisp fruit. Perfect, and just right for the season. She needed to remember to pick what apples she could carry, and soon. She would dry any that she couldn’t bake, set them aside for the coming months. For now, though, there was this apple.

She sat on the steps to the church and looked out to sea. The building sat in its small garden of plenty, situated high above the salt waters on a cliff. Already the townsfolk and their fishermen were out, setting out their nets and traps on the unsuspecting water life. She could see them now, selecting the best bait, the finest nets drawing tight upon a school. They would bring their catch in soon.

Olivia had no such nets, no traps. She had her words, her pretty lights, and her works. It was nothing. The townsfolk had seen real gods. They had no use for one that would not show his face.

That was enough for the morose. Olivia stood up, brushed off the front step, and buried the apple core in a new spot. She said a brief prayer over the seeds, and returned to work. The Three-Faced God was watching.

Olivia had been the priestess at Deadlight for seven years. She was not a young woman, nor old. The lines on her face had started when she entered the little building, to discover the old bones of the previous priest resting by the altar. Her first action as priestess and caretaker was properly disposing of him.

Then she began to worship. It seemed monotonous, but Olivia filled her days. Sleeping in the small cell that was hidden beneath the building. Selling what fruit and wheat she could to keep the oils and candles well stocked, the paintings clean. Reading the Three Tomes. Trying to be worthy.

There were not too many visitors to Deadlight. It was a relic, truly. Hearkening back to a simpler time, when the gods did not respond to prayers. If someone came up to the temple it was more out of curiosity than any desire for religion.

But there were those few. Those who were drawn much like the Seer. They could do no more than sit in the strange room. Coins slipped out of their hands onto the floor, forgotten when they left bewildered. Those who did come to Deadlight left more confused than when they ventured forth.

Not all of them, though. There was her. Olivia would never forget her.

She came on a mottled yellow horse. Carrying a prophet frozen in her own words. The girl was a saint with the soul of a demon, and the horns and tail to match.

Olivia thought she was beautiful.

Kait Demonborn slid out of the saddle. Clari-Ann pawed the dirt, and looked at the fruit trees warily. They weren’t burning, weren’t charred to a crisp. The goblin horse didn’t trust undercooked produce.

“Easy, girl,” Kait said. They were here as visitors. It was rude to start trampling fruit trees, or any unsuspecting worshippers.

Olivia stood at the door to the temple in awe. This girl carried herself with confidence, if not self-respect. Kait took in the entirety of the temple grounds, examining anything that could be considered out of the ordinary. The half-demon girl’s eyes passed over Olivia, and settled on the church’s sigil.

At the crest of the roof. The crescent moon of Darklight, with the cross of the Heavens in its arms. At the center of the cross was the great Star, six points that Olivia had fallen in love with.

Kait stared at the symbol of the Three-Faced. She collapsed, tears streaming down her face.

“Found you,” She whispered. “I’ve found you.”

Olivia had heard of the Demonborn. A demon-girl who protected all from the Pit. Raised by the legendary Harsk and his Riders. She had killed hundreds of demons, and travelled without fear or question.

And she was here at Deadlight, finding a new truth. God was truly merciful.

“Kait Demonborn?” Olivia asked.

“What gave it away?” Kait walked through the trees up to the temple door. She nodded to the door.

“You the priest?”

“Seer Olivia, at your service,” she bowed low.

“Then this must be what I’ve been looking for,” Kait said. She looked at the symbol again, and frowned. This was not what she was expecting. That giant priest had been talking about a sect that knew about the Pit. A sect needed a few things, though. Like followers. And no one had a clue about the symbol he had drawn on the ground.

The demon-girl had followed every baseless rumor for eighteen months. Scoured between the two Wastes, almost ventured down into Texas, and deep into the Ice lands in the North. No new idea was too small to investigate.

And now she was here. South and east of anything of note. Set way too far up the cliffs. Clari-Ann needed to bite something or she was going to go insane.

“So what is this place?” Kait asked.

“This is a temple to the Three-Faced God,” Olivia said. She swept her hand forth, opening the door. “Allow me to give you a tour.”

Kait looked inside, and frowned. Something about this building made her uncomfortable. It seemed too hot, too much light. She shielded her eyes, and forced herself forward.

“So what kind of god is this one?” Kait asked.

“Pardon?”

“Thunder god?” Kait asked. “Fertility? Probably not death. Too much light.”

“The Three-Faced God has been known by many names, but in all He is all-powerful,” Olivia explained. “A master of past, present, and future.”

“Time, then.”

“He is everything.”

“Ah,” Kait rolled her eyes. One of those gods. Someone who couldn’t make up their mind, and just said everything. Most deities learned to specialize. Mortals were fickle creatures, but on the whole they were pretty pluralist. If you delivered, they would follow you to the ends of the earth.

“I just assumed because of the fruit trees outside a fertility god. But the light, he must also do some work with the sun.”

Olivia smiled. “He is everything.”

“So the fruit trees are his?”

“Yes,”

Kait nodded. “Did a nice job.”

“Thank you.”

Kait frowned. “You planted the trees?”

“Yes.”

“But you said the fruit trees are his.”

“They, and all I have done are in honor of the Three-Faced God,” Olivia explained. “They are His, as I am His.”

“And he didn’t contribute anything to this?” Kait was starting to get a little frustrated.

“He contributed the earth, and the air, and life itself…”

“Stop.” Kait held up her hands. “Stop for just one moment. I need to word this carefully.” She sighed, and worked the words out of her mouth. “Did this god of yours, perform any sort of miracle? Raise this temple in a single night? Suspend the sun above you or end a drought?”

Olivia shrugged.

“Have you, literally, seen the Three-Faced God?”

“In my…”

“Face to face.” Kait thought about that for a moment. “To face to face.”

Olivia smiled. “You see why this place is so empty.”

“Yes,” Kait kicked at a bench. “It’s a temple with no god.”

“Not one that is easily seen, no.”

Olivia was not offended in the slightest. The demon hunter must have run across a god or two in her travels. Deities were becoming all the more common, sprouting up as new religions were formed to house them. There were new pantheons made and merged with the old with alarming frequency. Miracles were commonplace.

And yet the Three-Faced God, or whatever his followers believed, remained silent. No emissaries, no avatars or angels declaring the glory of his name. Was it any wonder no one would stay with him?

Kait walked up to the candles and looked at them. A god of light, of everything and nothing. Supposedly the answer to all of her problems. And no one could speak, except for some old priestess who didn’t seem to want to do anything but stare.

“I have a prophet hanging off my horse,” Kait said. “She’s frozen in time, after she spoke a prophecy about me.”

Olivia leaned to one side, glancing out the door. That ugly horse was there, munching on several pears and looking like it was awful. Strapped to the saddle was a statue, a young woman. She was knelt in prayer, waiting. The Seer wondered how long she would wait.

“One of the reasons I came here is to finally break her free of that.” Kait pointed at the prophet. “But you have no clue about what I’m talking about, do you?”

Olivia shook her head. She was not a font for her god.

“And if I asked you what my purpose was in coming here, would you do anything more than shrug?”

Olivia smiled. “I would complete my tour.” She looked around. “The pews were hand-carved wood from the local forests. I had several removed for heating purposes, and the hope that one day more would be made by new followers.”

“Fascinating.”

“These candles are one of my favorite duties,” Olivia said. She wrapped her hands around the wax. “Lit every morning before the morning sun rises. As long as there is a servant awake, God’s Light must shine forth.”

Olivia smiled. “I need bees of my own here. Some true hives for them. I can collect wax and honey, make a little more for the temple and just a touch of sweetness in my tea.”

She dipped her fingers into the flames, drawing forth new light. “This is a god of light, one who understands that truth is a beacon, not a secret. It does not do to have light hidden in some darkened corner.”

She transferred the flames to her left hand. “On the other hand, perhaps such a place is where the light is needed most.”

Kait wasn’t impressed. The flame trick was not something to write home about. Any wizard or witch knew how to perform it. It wasn’t a miracle; it was just magic.

“Do you hate me?” Kait asked.

Olivia drew back, startled. “No! No, I’m sorry if I stare. No, miss Kait, I do not hate you.”

“And why not?” Kait drew her knife. A simple curved blade, it rang as she tapped it against the brazier.

“All you know is what your eyes see. But you don’t see an innocent. I am not someone to be admired or respected, or even be indifferent towards. I’m a demon.”

That was it. That hanging weight and pressure. Kait felt it, slowly crushing down on her. There was a power here, something that hated demons. It knew her, and did not approve.

“All are welcome…”

“Don’t give me that bullshit.” Kait said. “No one welcomes demons in. They are evil, perversions of the natural order. We only exist to do evil.”

She stepped towards Olivia, and again. Kait pointed the knife at the priestess and smiled.

“How many tales have you heard of me?”

Olivia gulped, suddenly unsure.

“Let me guess, the good ones. The ones where I swept in and saved the day. All of my great feats for the last couple of years. Striking off on my own, spreading the good work of Harsk to all the people of the land.”

Kait laughed, and kicked out. Her foot connected with the brazier, sending it flying. Coals scattered across the floor.

Olivia lifted her hand to put them out.

“No! Let it burn.” Kait looked up to the sky. “Let your Three-Faced God look down and see his house burning. Maybe then he might do something about this abomination in his midst.”

She spread her arms wide. “I am the bastard child of a demon. I’ve killed men, women, even a child that clung to its mother to choke her to death. With every step I walk I despoil just a little bit of your world.

“Mimir says you are my answer. But all I see is a world that is evil. And an empty house to three faces I can’t see.”

She ground the coals into the carpet. The fibers smoked, but refused to light. Kait screamed, a guttural wail that echoed across the room.

“Who am I?” She shouted. “What’s my purpose?”

There was no response.

Kait collapsed on the ground. She had all her hopes. This would give her answers. About the prophet, about Harsk. About herself. And she was arguing with air.

“Why am I here, Seer?” Kait asked.

“God has his plans,” Olivia responded.

“I was led here by another God,” Kait said. “A real one, with real followers. His priest drove away an entire winter, held the snows at bay so I could continue on my quest.”

“And your point is?”

“Why would anyone send me to a temple with no god to find out about demons?” Kait shouted.

“Is that all?” Olivia laughed. “Well, the demons are here.”

Kait frowned. Olivia spread her arms wide, and the demon-girl finally saw. Saw every picture and painting plastered all over the walls. Demons.

“What are you worshipping?” Kait whispered. “Demons?”

“Never,” Olivia raised her left hand. She drew closer to the paintings, examining them closely. “The Pit has many enemies, but only one adversary. The Three-Faced God commands that we know His greatest Foes with absolute certainty. When the battle truly does commence, his followers shall be ready.”

Kait looked at one particularly well-armed demon. “Like you and your trees?”

“One does what one must.”

Kait wondered, not for the first time, if this was a trap. She was starting to get a reputation, and not a fun one. Wherever she went around, she tried to help people. Rid them of monsters, of Waste Beasts gone rogue. She had guarded nobles and broken up bar fights. Anything to settle the bill. But it always came back to demons.

All these demons. She could see so many of them in these paintings. Deadlight was such a small place, and yet its demons seemed to go on forever.

“That is Thragafar the Bloody,” Olivia said. “Who slew several angels in his quest for earthly power before he was cast back into the Pit. And Olpi the Lost…”

She knew her demons. Kait had heard of several of them, always in context with Harsk. She wondered if she could find those demon princes he had slain. What were their names again?

“Do you have the Demon King here?” Kait asked.

Olivia laughed. “No one knows his form. It would be tempting fate to even attempt such a portrayal.”

Probably for the best. Even placing the image of something like a demon could be dangerous if it held true power. It might start looking back.

Olivia prattled on as Kait kept looking. Demons, always demons. And she had found their adversary, apparently. Not a particularly active one at that.

Her fingers stopped at a painting. She tugged once, and again. They would not budge.

She looked down. It was a field of battle. Angels and demons racing against each other. Fires raged. A lightning strike burst several fiends to atoms. Blood and carnage was everywhere.

Kait ignored them, and lifted her hand to look at one demon.

It wasn’t a large one. Slim, actually. Tight corded muscles stretched underneath a bronze cuirass. He looked out over a field of fellow demons, an axe hanging at his side.

Kait noticed just how composed the demon was. While the battle raged about him, he almost ignored the entire conflict. His white hair was perfectly coifed, not a single strand out of place. His horns were red, striking a stark contrast against his blue skin.

He looked up at a female angel. She screamed down at the heavens, spear in hand and ready to tear the demon apart. He cocked an eyebrow, a hand resting on the axe-head.

Kait knew he would win. His stance was relaxed, but poised for battle. Sidestep that awkward dive, take out one wing, perhaps even the backbone in the right strike. As she flailed about, he’d finish the job. Quick, efficient. Boring.

He found the battle boring. She knew it.

“Who is this?”

Seer Olivia frowned, and consulted the books. Kait had stumbled upon one of the lesser-known demons. Even in that painting there were a host of others far more famous. Yet, she asked.

Olivia looked, and finally found it. A simple mention, no deeds listed, no real records. Just a minor demon, and a coward at that if he could not have been granted any recognition.

“Carzic Mons,” Olivia said. “Minor demon, not even listed in a horde or a circle.”

It was him. Kait knew it, she felt it. She found him.

“Carzic Mons,” she whispered.

The building shook. Lights flickered, and flared up. Olivia stood back, and snapped her fingers. The candles immediately calmed, and stayed steady even as the ground beneath their feet danced.

Kait fell to the floor. She welcomed it, rolled with the motions, a smile on her face. She had him, she had him! No matter how hard the temple threatened to buckle, the demon Rider would not stop smiling.

Finally, almost in defeat, the temple regained composure. Olivia looked over the candles, checking the lights and fuel. Dangerous, but no damage to the temple. A glance out the window found that not even a head of wheat was harmed.

“What was that?” Olivia asked.

Kait leapt to her feet. “Dad. Saying hello.” She stormed out of the room, and whistled for Clari-Ann. The horse trotted over, and Kait started checking the saddle straps.

“That has never happened!” Olivia shouted from the temple door.

“Neither is anything I’m about to do,” Kait said. “They’re going to have to take notes down in the Pit. What Mons will experience will be legendary.”

She looked at the prophet. “But I won’t forget your words. Never.”

“Wait!” Olivia said. “Please, tell me what just happened.”

“Ask your god,” Kait said.

Olivia grit her teeth. “You have thrown my god into my face time and again. And when a miracle happens, you deny me the right to understand?”

Kait reached down and picked up the priestess. The black eyes bored straight through her, examining everything. Kait shook her head.

“I don’t believe in miracles,” Kait said. “And I don’t believe in your god. Mimir is a real god, and he sent me to where the answers are. This wasn’t a place to find worship. It’s my library.

“You have your beliefs. Your faith. But it is in something that is just a fancy. It gives you nothing but solace.”

Olivia’s tears started to flow. “He led you here. He brought you truth.”

The demon girl dropped her to the ground. “He doesn’t exist.”

Kait galloped off. To another adventure, another place. She was done with this god.

Olivia lay there, trembling. It wasn’t true, it wasn’t. The Three-Faced God worked in mysterious ways. He must have led this, somehow. It was all part of His Plan.

If she could only understand, then she could be sure.

The Three-Faced God did not give her answers. He remained silent, stoic.

Waiting.