Gavirel tried to speak, but the thread around his neck made it feel like any sudden movement would make his throat slit. Seralius was as silent as a mouse, still not directly looking Gavirel in the eye, almost as if he was looking at something or someone else.
"Nyx?"
Seralius asked as he raised an eyebrow before finally looking Gavirel in the eyes, the string unraveling his neck, the thread retracted back into his finger nail.
"I'm sorry, it would seem we're one and the same. Parents really can be confusing sometimes, can't they?"
Gavirel looked at him, even more confused now. This god was suddenly calling them the same after almost killing him for no reason, if it even was him, at least after all this, it was just a dream.
"I know you're probably confused right now, but your soul has left your body, only temporarily, of course."
Seralius looked at Gavirel up and down, making Gavirel take a singular step back and pull his shirt down as far as it could go.
"Why are you wearing such shabby clothes? You have fine ones next to your fireplace, no?"
"I can't wash them in public; they'll know I stole it."
Gavirel's voice was sheepish as he explained to the soft-spoken man. He couldn't understand why someone like him could care about the clothes he wore, let alone why he even knew he had them.
"That's true, but they won't if you remove the sigils."
Seralius smiled, which didn't calm Gavirel's nerves one bit; if anything, it made him even more cautious. There was no way in hell that someone who had everything at their fingertips could possibly care for something like that.
"I was watching you with Liora. You have the right to be skeptical of us gods; most of them won't answer your prayers if all you do is ask, but I don't mind. Worship is still worship, and I rely on that."
"Watching me?"
"Yes, although I can only see things that my words have touched."
"So you saw my house? And me praying?"
"I did, it's gruesome what they do to those in Gallora, they deserve proper burial."
It did make sense that the god of mercy cared about the citizens on the outskirts, but to Gavirel, that just meant something was being maintained, not everyone was going to live through it, and everyone would die eventually.
"Return the ring to House Drosvain, Gavirel. They'll take you in as a shepherd."
"I never told you my name."
"He did."
"He?"
Seralius squinted his eyes not out of anger or resentment but as if trying to pry something out, maybe even curiosity
"Oh. . . I'm terribly sorry, I must be mistaken. Maybe I am, in fact, just seeing things. You sure are an interesting one. What do you say we be friends?"
"Friends? Is that even possible?"
"I can visit you like this at any time. You seem like an honest person; that's rare to come across these days, even across gods. Everyone is just interested in what benefits them."
"But you're a god, how do you even know what mortals are like outside of prayer?"
"I've walked the earth millions of times. I have a lot of friends out in Auroria, you should see them sometime."
Gavirel shook his head, realizing that he was getting off topic after all, he needed to know what he wanted him to do
"What did you mean by return the ring?"
"You have a ring that belongs to House Drosvain, do you not? Their shepherd has died, and with him their cattle. They are a symbol of power, so they need their livestock for the citizens."
"And who am I supposed to give it to?"
"King Orien the XV, I'm sure you'll find him out drunk at a tavern next to the castle. His favorite is the one next to the brothel off Prince's Street. You may find him there."
Gavirel let the information process for a few moments before he began to look around in the flower-crazed land again, taking it in one more time, after all, it may be his last
"Will I ever come back here?"
"If I want you to. This is my paradise."
Seralius finally stepped off the throne, walking towards Gavirel, extending his hand out. Gavirel grabbed his hand and began to shake it firmly, squeezing a little too tightly, trying to get a reaction, which only made Seralius laugh
"I'll see you again. Return."
The next thing he knew, his eyes were open, finally waking, but back in the real world, feeling as if he had gotten a good night's rest after being awake for days, which was odd considering he was using a rock as a pillow.
But he couldn't waste any time; he immediately got up and looked for the ring that Seralius had mentioned, finding it under a pile of clothes. He was about to get up to put a leash around his sheep, but remembered what the man had said and took the sigils off the clean clothes he had found.
He wore a red shirt with saint and vulture-like symbols adorned on it, with a silver and blue cloak that covered his right side entirely. He put on whatever pants he could find, settling with plain white ones and poulanies.
Hurriedly, he grabbed his ropes and leashed his sheep, walking outside and into the city to find the tavern, getting lost around six or seven times. Gavirel wasn't dumb enough to go next to the castle to smuggle, as that was just asking to get caught.
Eventually, he found his way to the castle and began to look at the signs to find Prince's street, and began to walk down it, taking in the amount of gems that they had spent on this place alone.
Just like Seralius had said, there was a tavern right next to a brothel. Now, why would a married king be here? He did know, but what he did know was that this would make him wealthy.
Taking a sharp inhale, he entered the tavern and began to look around, looking for the king. It didn't take long to see a bearded man with orange hair drinking a cup full of wine. He was wearing the infamous "Cloak of Jewels," a cloak made out of gold with over 1000 gems on it, of every king's fallen enemies.
"Excuse me, m'king, but it seems like someone in your family had dropped this."
Gavirel smiled, looking at the man waiting for a response as he extended his hand out with the ring and held his ropes tighter. He waited a while for the man to respond, for what felt like decades, just holding his hand out.
Eventually, he held his hand out next to the man's cup, trying to show him the ring showing the sigil of the black star.
"Excuse me, m'king, someone from House Drosvain dropped-"
"I heard you the first time, brat. You're either very brave or very stupid. To bring fake jewelry to the king of all people, greed is a sin, you know?"
His words were slurred and cruel, the exact opposite of what Gavirel was expecting. On top of that, a drunkard calling Gavirel a brat was kind of ironic, considering King Orien was known for not listening to orders and whoring in his younger days and during the Battle of Silk.
"M'king, I assure you it's not fake, I would never wish to deceive you."
"It has my family sigil, but it's not shining. I'm not stupid. It has no trace of Lemmavis in it."
"Lemmavis?"
Orien looked at him as if stunned, looking him up and down, stroking his beard before laughing. His laugh attracted the whole tavern as it echoed through the walls.
"You're not from around here, are you? Don't lie to me, boy, you're from the outskirts, aren't you?"
"Yes, m'king."
Gavirel was embarrassed to admit it and even more embarrassed that the king of all people noticed it.
Orien grabbed the ring, and green iris petals began to pour out from his hands and into the ring. The black star was now shining, like an eclipse lighting the entire room.
"I can see why my father took a liking to your people; you truly are honest. But a piece of advice, if you're going to try to act like a noble, learn how to say 'My king,' it'll get you places."
The king looked past Gavirel and at his sheep getting up without saying a word, inspecting the animals.
"You tend to your sheep wisely, their wool thick and free of bald spots. Do you feed them supplements?"
"No m'king, just fresh grass and hay."
Orien looked shocked, smiling before grabbing his cup of wine, chugging it down all in one breath, and slamming the cup down on the counter.
"You have a promising amount of Lemmavis. I want to take you in as my shepherd. How does that sound?"
"I would be honored, sir, but what exactly is Lemmavis?"
"Ah, right, you're from the outskirts. Lemmavis is life energy. In other words, a force that is the root of all life and power?"
"I'm sorry, m'king, but what do you mean by power?"
He didn't respond to the boy, simply pulling a gold coin out of his pocket and holding it out in his hand. Gavirel blinked once, then when he looked again, the coin was silver, and then the next time it was back to gold.
"My Primordium blessing is divide and multiply, meaning I can divide or multiply anything that I wish. You look promising. I could teach you if you came in as my shepherd."
Gavirel was stunned. He had always heard stories of blessings and curses, but he always thought that they couldn't be real. Along with that, the possibility of him being able to use one was more than he could've imagined.
"I had no intentions of turning down your request, sir, but if I may ask, why are you so willing to teach me?"
Orien paused for a moment, filling his cup with more wine, filling it to the point of spilling. The fact that someone could be so drunk yet so informative was surprising, wait no, he shouldn't doubt the king, he could have him executed for such things. He took a long sip of wine before looking at Gavirel directly.
"You may not realize, but just off raw Lemmavis, you have an unusual amount, something that borders on godhood. I'm going to be honest with you, you seem like you could be of use to me."
"...Like a servant?"
"No, like a warrior. The goddess of knowledge told me I would meet someone who would be of great value to me in a great battle. I believe that's you."
Gavirel's eyes lit up; everything he could ever wish for was about to happen, all just by returning a ring. Gavirel couldn't stop smiling, whether it was from joy or relief, he couldn't tell. Deep down, he doubted if some random boy could really be this lucky, but he was willing to take his chances.
He didn't want to admit it, but gods truly were real, and on top of that, he had interacted with one face-to-face, not like some vague sign that most people would talk about, but an actual conversation with a god.
"Your name?"
"Huh?"
"What's your name, boy?"
"Gavirel."
Orien drank his wine, waiting for Gavirel to continue, but didn't fully realize until his cup was fully empty yet again
"A bastard child, hm?"
"Yes, sire."
"Well, at least tell me you're old enough to drink."
"I am, sire."
"Stop calling me sire. It's annoying. If I'm going to get to know you, we should skip the formalities."
Orien reached over the counter, grabbing another cup, not caring for the keeper that was tending to another man's drink. He set the cup next to him as Gavirel took a seat, filling Gavirel's half way and filling his to the brim yet again.
Gavirel looked at the wine, excited but indifferent, as the wines he had drunk were cheap and stale from his local tavern. Reluctantly, he picked up the drink and took a sip of it.
Once he started, he couldn't stop the rich flavors melting on his tongue and making his body delightfully fuzzy. He scarfed down the drink faster than he realized, making the king laugh as he followed in quick succession. He deeply exhaled before turning to Gavirel, cup still in his hand.
"Once you go through the trial of title, I'll give you a house. What do you want it to be named?"
The thought of Gavirel having a last name almost put him off edge as the idea had never crossed his mind, he always thought of himself being stuck in the place of a whore's son through and through.
"This is awfully generous, sire. How can I be sure that I can trust you?"
"Smart. Unfortunately, I'm a servant of the goddess of knowledge; I'm unable to lie."
Gavirel raised an eyebrow in confusion; lying had to be one of the best tools a human possessed. Gavirel could almost pity him, if he wasn't the king of the world, that was. More importantly, he had to think of a name for his house.
"House Vulturis"
Gavirel muttered instinctively at first, thinking it sounded unnatural for a noble name, but the more he thought about it, the better and better it sounded. Orien, on the other hand, looked at him with a pleased smile, finally putting the ring on his index finger.
"A vulture, huh? Perfect for you if you ask me. And the sigil."
He thought long and hard about his response to the king, going through at least three cups. Eventually, he turned his head to the king, looking at him with a smile that went from ear to ear.
"A vulture perched on the black star."