Paragon of Destruction

Arran took a small sip of the glass of red liquid, and found that it was indeed wine. And cheap wine, at that, with a sour taste that made the corners of his mouth turn down in disgust.

The captain had a similar reaction. He made an ugly face as he tasted the liquid, then said, "I know the church considers frugality a virtue, but this seems excessive."

The priest gave him a flat look, clearly unamused. "You have been granted an invaluable gift. Do not disparage it."

Arran frowned as he looked at the glass in his hand. He could Sense nothing in the liquid it held, but the priest certainly seemed convinced of its potency.

He suppressed a sigh, then brought the glass to his lips once more and drained its contents in a single large gulp, restraining himself from gagging at the foul taste.

Although he hadn’t Sensed anything in the liquid, he felt a vague hint of power ripple through his body after he drank it — and then frowned as it promptly disappeared barely a moment later.

"Was that it?" he asked, his expression puzzled as he faced the priest.

The white-haired man, however, seemed just as confused as Arran was. He eyed the three outsiders suspiciously, his eyes narrowed as he stared at them. But then, a look of realization appeared in his eyes.

"These three," he asked, turning to the Knight, "they’re Body Refiners?"

"Of course," she replied. "You didn’t think Lord Rannoc would bestow his favor upon random commoners, did you?"

The priest cursed beneath his breath. "I’ll return momentarily," he said, not bothering to wait for a reply as he hurried off once more. This time, he made no effort to conceal his annoyance.

He returned some moments later, carrying a small glass bottle. Like the previous one, it was filled with a clear liquid, but although Arran saw no difference between the two, the priest handled the new bottle with considerably more care.

Again, he filled three glasses with cheap wine, then added several drops of clear liquid to each before handing them back to Arran and the others.

"Drink," he said, "so that you may receive the gods’ blessing."

Arran did as he said, once more suppressing the urge to gag as he downed the sour wine.

This time, a clear tremble of power ran through his body as he imbibed the liquid. Yet again, it disappeared only a moment later, fading into nothingness as it met the sea of power his body already carried.

When he looked at the captain and Sassun, however, they had curious expressions, as if they were experiencing an unfamiliar sensation.

Yet the priest paid neither Kaleesh nor Sassun the slightest attention. Instead, he stared at Arran with astonished eyes, frustration written plain across his face.

"It didn’t take," he said, sounding as if he could scarcely believe it. "I don’t understand..."

Muna cast a curious look at Arran, then turned to the priest. "Seems like you’re still too stingy."

"I’m not—" the priest began, then stopped and shook his head. "It should work. Even for a Body Refiner."

At this, Kaleesh let out a laugh. "Arran here is no common Body Refiner," he said. "He’s freakishly strong, even compared to me. If you want your potion to have an effect, you’d better give him a strong dose of it."

"It’s not a potion!" the priest snapped. "This... this is the blood of a god."

Arran glanced at the small bottle before the priest. "Gods have clear blood?"

The priest shot him a frustrated glare. "It’s diluted," he said. "But even so, a single drop should be enough for anyone."

The Knight gave the white-haired man a flat stare. "Clearly, it isn’t," she said. "And Lord Rannoc was clear in his orders. Give him more."

The priest gave the small bottle a despondent look, but after a moment’s hesitation, he once more took Arran’s glass and filled it with cheap wine. Then, he opened the small bottle, and added five drops of clear liquid to the wine.

"There," he said as he handed the glass to Arran. "That should be enough, even for you."

Arran accepted the glass with a sigh, already dreading the taste of the sour wine inside. Yet he did not hesitate in emptying it — not if it supposedly contained a shred of divine power.

Yet again, the surge of power he felt lasted only a second. Though it was stronger than before, the strength within Arran’s body overwhelmed it with ease, snuffing out the liquid’s power as it devoured it.

The priest watched Arran with anxious eyes, and as the power was extinguished, he went pale — apparently, he could somehow see what happened.

"Impossible!" he exclaimed in a shocked voice. "This is impossible!"

Kaleesh gave him an amused look. "From your reaction, I take it it didn’t work?"

The white-haired man ignored the captain completely, shock in his eyes as he stared at Arran. "How could that not be enough?!" he said in a low voice, astonishment written across his face.

The Knight’s eyes were focused on Arran as well, and although she didn’t share the priest’s shocked expression, a growing curiosity could be seen in her eyes.

"It didn’t take?" she asked, her attention on Arran even as she spoke to the priest.

"Obviously not!" the priest snapped. "I don’t know what kind of monster you’ve brought me, but it’s clear the gods do not wish him to have their blessing!"

"Then you’ll have to convince them," she replied. "Give him more. Or no — give him something stronger."

By now, Arran was beginning to feel some worry. He understood that he’d need to absorb the power to become a Darian citizen, yet so far, the clear liquid’s effects had shown no sign of lasting more than a few seconds.

Worse, it was obvious that the Darians were growing suspicious. And if those suspicions grew into actions, there might be trouble ahead.

"Something stronger?" The priest looked at the Knight incredulously. "You don’t mean..."

"I do," she replied. "Lord Rannoc wishes are clear, and if that’s what it takes, then so be it."

The priest firmly shook his head in response. "I can’t. Not for an outsider, and not without permission from an Archon."

Muna raised an eyebrow as she looked him in the eyes. "You wish to defy Lord Rannoc?"

This time, the white-haired man met her gaze without flinching. "Rannoc may rule this city," he replied, "but he does not command the church."

The Knight gave him a pleasant smile. "You’re right, of course," she said. "Lord Rannoc does not command the church, and even he would not dare anger the clergy." She gave a casual shrug, then continued, "But do you think the church would seek conflict with a Lord over the fate of a single troublesome priest?"

Outrage crossed the priest’s pale face, but he did not reply immediately. Instead, his eyes flashed between Arran and the Knight, and finally, he asked, "Why does a single outsider matter so much?"

"It’s not about the outsider," Muna replied. "It’s about your willingness to work with your city’s new ruler." She glanced at Arran, then added, "And if an outsider has the strength to require a proper blessing, then I imagine my Lord has use for him yet."

The white-haired man remained silent for a moment, then gave her a short nod. "Very well," he said. "The church values its relationship with the Lords."

Without any further words, he stood up and left the chamber once again.

"You’re an interesting one," the Knight said as the priest stepped outside. "An outsider, but already so strong. If your potential is any indication, you might do great things for the Imperium yet."

Arran nodded silently, careful not to reveal his worry. Whatever the priest would give him next, he desperately hoped it would work. If it didn’t, the Knight’s curiosity might well turn to suspicion.

The priest returned some minutes later, yet another small bottle in his hands. And this bottle, he held with such care that Arran could have thought he was carrying his newborn son.

This time, the priest produced a new glass, one that featured intricate carvings and looked to be made from crystal rather than simple glass. And instead of filling it with the cheap wine that Arran had already come to dread, he took out another bottle that appeared to be far more valuable.

The man carefully filled the glass with wine, then added a single drop of liquid to it. And this liquid, Arran saw, wasn’t completely clear. Rather, it held a trace of pink, although one so faint as to be barely visible.

He took the glass in both hands, then handed it to Arran with anxious care, as if he was terrified of dropping it — which he likely was.

Arran accepted the glass with a small nod, then looked at it for several seconds. Still, he could not Sense even the slightest trace of power.

After a moment’s hesitation, he brought the glass to his lips, then slowly emptied it into his mouth.

If nothing else, the wine was far better than the one he’d had previously. Smooth and full, it filled his throat with a sense of warmth as he swallowed it.

And then, he felt it — a gentle power, spreading through his body. It was much like what he’d felt before, but many times stronger. And though it still couldn’t match the power his body already held, it wasn’t extinguished.

Instead, it seemed to merge with the other powers in his blood. And although the power faded away after some moments, this time it left behind a comfortable feeling of energy and vigor.

The priest had watched Arran with anxious eyes as he drank the liquid, but as the power faded and merged with Arran’s body, he breathed a relieved sigh.

"It is done," he said. "You are now a Darian — all of you are."

"Thank you," Arran said, giving the man a forced smile.

The priest gave him a small nod. "Now then," he said, turning to the Knight. "Since we’re done, can I return to my bed?"

The Knight smirked. "You’re not done quite yet," she said. "These outsiders — they have some companions who are to be made citizens as well."

The priest gave her a panicked look. "Companions? How many?"

The Knight smiled. "About two hundred. All Body Refiners."

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