Chrysalis seemed to brim with excitement as we walked back toward the Citadel. Every once in a while, she would even skip for a beat before returning to her stately walk. Her good mood seemed contagious, and it even made me forget my hunger for a moment.

I could understand her chipper attitude, though. I would probably be happy in her shoes, too — a stranger sent by a god gives me a fabulous gift of advanced technology? Things could certainly be worse.

Though, I was still curious about these… gods. I realized that I hadn’t actually spoken to any of them, save one. It made me nervous— why haven’t they spoken with me yet? All I get is a one man welcome, and a brief set of instructions from my immediate superior? Something wasn’t right... I just couldn’t say what.

I was brought out of my reverie, however, by accidentally bumping into the stopped form of Chrysalis. We were surrounded by a large group of curious changelings, all of whom seemed intent on learning what the loud bang they heard earlier was. Chrysalis gave them a short explanation— largely leaving out sensitive details— and sent them on their way.

Just before we got moving, she seemed to think of something and had a guard relay a message, but I didn’t really pay attention to what she said. I was once again lost in thought, pondering what all these recent revelations meant for my beliefs. I didn’t even notice when we’d made it back to the throne room.

The sun was well into its descent, as it was now around 5 PM (according to my pocket watch). The late afternoon sun was casting a lovely pattern of shadows across the floor, lending the room an otherworldly feel.

I was struck by the fine details of my surroundings. I could see the rough pattern of the stone heavily contrasted by the shadows due to the angle of the sunlight. My attention was then drawn to the scant few dust motes glinting in the sunlight, and the subtle scraping noise accompanied by Chrysalis’ hoofsteps on the stone. I could even detect a faint lavender perfume in the air.

I was suddenly very aware that all of this was inescapably real. Everything that's happened so far was real, from magic, to actual gods.

“Well, Steve,” Chrysalis said, smoothly taking her seat, “I believe we have quite a bit to discuss.”

I gently shook myself out of my musings and took my seat as well. “Yeah. Sorry about being so quiet; I’ve just been thinking.”

“Think nothing of it,” she said, teleporting the tea set away, “I, too, have had quite a bit on my mind.”

I nodded and slouched into a comfortable position, resting my elbows on the table, and my head on my steepled fingers. “Before we get into it, though, do you think we could get some food? I’m pretty hungry.”

She nodded and rang a small hand (or, hoof, in this case) bell. A servant came and offered me a selection of food to choose from. Regrettably, they had little to offer, and nothing beyond vegetarian fare. I asked for some oatmeal with a side of hashbrowns— after explaining what they were.

I suppose getting that much was pretty lucky, considering Changelings don’t even eat food. I’m just glad they seem to like having pets here.

We settled in and waited for my food, while Chrysalis conjured herself another cup of tea. She also shot a conspicuous glance toward my pocketed cigarettes. I begrudgingly allowed her one, flicking open the pack.

“I suppose,” she said, easing a cigarette from the pack, “that the best place to start would be with the fabrication of steel.”

“Are you sure this place is safe from eavesdroppers?” I said, glancing around, “This is a massive advantage, and losing it could be… bad.”

She chuckled, lighting her cigarette. “Of that, you can rest assured,” she said, taking a leisurely drag. “There are runes hidden everywhere, making deliberate stealth nearly impossible. And as for my servants, well… I would put my life and city in their hooves.”

I nodded and gently stroked my new facial hair. “Alright, I suppose all the stakes are on you. Though you might want to get out some writing utensils, as well as some sort of scholar to ease the process along.”

“Aren’t you a scholar?” she said, cocking her head slightly, “Based on the fact that you know how to create steel, well, I suppose I just assumed you were.”

I gently chuckled, “Nah, I’m just a layman. I don’t know any of the metallurgical stuff, or the specific functions of the furnace, or how to set up a supply line to feed the production. I just know how to make steel; everything else is up to you guys.”

She sighed gently and nodded. “I suppose that’s fair. Thankfully I already called for one, and he should arrive shortly.”

As she said that, one of the guards stationed outside poked in and said that both the scholar and food were here. Chrysalis merely nodded and told them to enter. The guard disappeared behind the giant door, and moments later, a burly Changeling male briskly trotted over, followed closely by another maid.

“Привет, Ваше Величество.” he said, offering both of us a nod.“You have task for me, да?”

“Yes,” I said, making him sharply turn his head, “ I’m the one whom you’ll be speaking with.”

He clicked his tongue and loudly whispered “Грубая собака.”

I knew what one of those words meant, and that it was an insult. So I calmly said something that I said to make fun of my communist neighbor, “Будьте осторожны с тем, что вы говорите, вы никогда не знаете, кто слушает, товарищ.”

For a moment he looked stunned, before he started laughing uproariously. “This one is funny, царица!”

He went about setting up his stationary while my plate was set down. I started eating before he could start with any questions; he didn’t seem to mind, which suited me fine.

“So,” he started, quill levitating over the page, “Where will start?”

“I think we should start with your field of expertise, that way I can gauge how much explaining I’ll have to do.”

He nodded, seeming to consider his words, “да, This is, eh, making sense. I study metal, and weapons. Also runes.”

I nodded, shoveling another bite of oatmeal in my mouth and quickly swallowing. “Alright, I suppose we should start with what you’re doing wrong.”

He looked quite cross, but said nothing. I continued.

“My people used a very complicated system of trapping gasses and routing pipes to produce staggering amounts of heat, but I think we can skip a step.”

“Why is heat issue? Bloomeries work for to make, eh, much iron!” He said, stomping his hoof on the table.

“Yes,” I countered, “But can it produce large quantities of steel?”

He seemed confused, “You make steel? How?”

I nodded and swallowed another bite of gruel. “The trick to steel is a homogenous mixture of different types of iron lattice structures… Do you follow?”

He took a moment, lost in apparent thought. “So, you need more heat to make liquid, да? To mix?”

I nodded, “Yes. The large problem is that simply burning wood or coal will not be hot enough— you must refine your methods. For a long time, my people used something called the Open Hearth process, but it was complicated and didn’t yield very good results.

“Nowadays, we use what’s called an arc furnace. It’s much simpler, and better, but it would take much longer to make and power.”

He nodded grimly, “да, it seems we, eh, need better option. What you suggest?”

I chuckled and gently shook my head, “You have magic, don’t you? Now that you know what the problem is, the solution should be apparent.”

He sat for a moment, gently tapping his chin with the quill, before he suddenly began writing at a furious pace. Just as quickly as he started, though, he stopped.

“Я решил проблему. I will make prototype, results seem, eh, promising.”

I nodded, not having a clue as to what was going on. He stood and bowed to Chrysalis, offering me a nod, before leaving.

“Well,” I said, wiping my hands on a piece of cream damask, “it seems like we’ll have an answer to that in a while.”

She nodded, gently flicking her head to remove her hair from her face. “I believe so, Steven. I think we can free ourselves up for some other tasks in the meantime, though. Was there anything else you needed my assistance with?”

“Actually, there is, Chrysalis. I was wondering if you had some sort of temple that I could use to try and commune with the gods.”

She nodded and shook her hoofbell. “I’ll have one of my servants escort you there, and another will take you to your chambers when you decide to retire. They will be tending to your needs, as well.”

I nodded and rose from my seat. “Oh, and Steven,” she said, “I will be seeing you in the morning, after you’ve refreshed yourself, yes?”

“Of course, Chrysalis,” I said, smiling.

We parted ways with a nod and smiles, and a decidedly female Changeling in a maid’s garb led me back down the large spiraling staircase, with a servile “Right this way, sir.”

We marched right back out of the fortress, and began down the exceptionally wide road. The gentle hustle and bustle of the city-state had returned, and most passers-by didn’t do much beyond a second glance.

We passed many tall buildings, all of which had entrances on every floor, however most had a very small footprint. They all had been built tall instead of wide, which I suppose made some sense. After all, every changeling could fly, barring the crippled.

Eventually, we came to a relative alley (by any human standard it was still a full sized road, however), and a moderately large building sat at the end.

It was only one story, but it was built from white marble, instead of the surrounding limestone. Its front was quite impressive, sporting columns, and twin oak plank doors. The windows actually had glass; however, it was warped soda-lime glass cut into a diamond lattice. It was definitely a church.

My guide bid me farewell, and said that someone else would be by in around half an hour to take me to my quarters within the citadel. I simply nodded and said “Thank you,” before turning back to the church.

I simply walked in, and was greeted with a tense silence.

The interior was well lit with a combination of natural and candle lighting. The floor was polished granite, with intricate rugs placed in presumably high traffic areas. Along the walls were various tables and shelves, all covered with various statuettes. Various paintings also filled almost every free space on the walls, and pews filled much of the center of the room.

Toward the back of the room was a low, water-filled basin, with a fragile-looking crystal ewer sitting on the edge. Beyond that was a podium, which had a large stained glass window as a backdrop. The window itself depicted a modern changeling standing on the ground, reaching for a progenitor in the clouds, albeit in a minimalist style.

There was only one changeling inside. He was wearing a simple, white linen robe, and he had his head bowed in prayer. I couldn’t hear what he (judging by the tenor of his voice) was saying, but I was certain that it was a prayer, and he was a priest.

In short, it was a very churchy church.

I decided that the best place to start was with the priest, so I casually strolled up to him. “Hello, good priest,” I said, stopping a meter short of his pew.

He began to turn, “Hello, Gods’ child. How…” He trailed off as he finally laid eyes on me.

“Y-you… can you be… the Anointed One?” He said, surprise turning to awe.

“I don’t know… probably?”

“A champion of the gods…” he said, smiling, “Please, if there is anything this humble cleric can do, let It know.”

“Well," I said, scratching my chin, “I don’t suppose you have any incense I could borrow, or a small sacrificial animal, perchance?”

“Actually, This One was about to light the incense burners and offer a sacrifice to appease the gods. It would be This One’s pleasure to have the Anointed One join him.”

I nodded, taking a seat on one of the pews. He quickly flitted about, grabbing incense and a knife. A smaller, white furred changeling entered from a side room, bearing a large bronze brazier. The priest took the artifact and ushered the altar boy away. He placed the basin on the pulpit as I walked closer.

“We cast our sins into this brazier,” the priest said, raising the knife, “and offer it to the gods, alongside our piety. We pray that they will see our penance paid, and finally forgive us.”

With a deft (and likely practiced) motion, he cut a thin, somewhat deep line on his foreleg. He allowed his green blood to steadily drip into the basin, quickly wrapping it once a fair bit had collected. He waved me over once he had tied his bandage.

“Come, Anointed One, offer your lifeblood to the gods. Pray for their favor.”

I cringed slightly at the thought of cutting myself with an already bloody knife, only to find it already in my hand, clean. With a slight shrug, I held out my arm and gave myself a decent cut. I nearly dropped the knife in shock when I saw my blood drip out looking like quicksilver.

The priest was also in awe, though he dutifully wrapped me with a bandage, too. “And now, with fire,” he said, literally igniting his horn, “We give an offering of lifeblood to the gods.”

Suddenly, the world fell away. I was in a void of black, with nothing but the now bright brazier, which had moved a bit away, and grown quite large.

“Such blasphemy,” thundered an unseen presence, “Not only to waste one’s own divinely blessed blood, but to let it mix with the blood of the disgraced? I vote that we smite the wretched knave!”

After a moment’s pause, several voices spoke out, with slight dissension, the answer was largely “Nay.”

Then, another spoke, “We have no power to waste. Especially after that stunt Tezcatlipoka pulled.”

Then, the first voice spoke again, “... The motion fails. I shall withdraw my previous comment.”

“Okay, I’m sorry, but what is going on? Who are y’all? And why can’t I see you?”

Suddenly, they appeared. Dozens of gods, from various pantheons arrayed themselves in a half circle around the now colossal brazier. The ones closest to the fire, I knew of, or their name came unbidden to me. The more distant ones, however, seemed to be in a haze, and even if I felt like I might know them, their name escaped me.

The darkness of the surrounding void now seemed oppressive, hostile, even. Before I even knew what I was doing, I found myself moving closer to the flame. I stopped at the edge of its warmth, waiting for one of them to speak.

“You, child,” said Odin Alfather, “are now our last hope. We do not know why, but the wretch, Tezcatlipoka, took our amassed divine power and made you our champion.”

“Wait, you mean I’m not chosen? I was just randomly picked by a rogue god?”

“You shall mind your tone, knave!” shouted Dike, daughter of Zeus, “You may have been randomly picked, but you were not chosen. Nor have your actions thus far pleased us.”

“Enough!” spoke a new voice, whom I didn’t immediately recognize. Other gods began to murmur amongst themselves, however they all stopped when Odin raised his hand.

“All of you, be silent.” Odin said, “Jehova, please speak when it is your turn to redress. If we constantly scream over each other, we will have wasted precious time and energy.” The gods nodded amongst themselves, and Odin continued, “Now, to address your question; no, you were not ‘chosen,’ at least not in the traditional sense. Dike also spoke correctly, though improperly. Your actions thus far have displeased a great many of us.

“However, you will not be held in contempt, as you had no way of knowing our will. Nor shall Discord, as he was tricked by Tezcatlipoka, much like yourself.” Dike looked like she wanted to object, but a harsh glare from Odin caused her to hold her tongue.

“What have I done that was so bad?”

“You helped the Fallen Ones!” Dike shouted.

“You mean the entire race you left to starve, for millennia?” I spat.

“Impudent child of man! I will smite thee myself!” She said, standing from her chair.

“Be seated!” Odin said, compelling Dike into her seat, “If you cannot conduct yourself properly, you will be ejected from this meeting!”

“Forgive me, Alfather, you are, as always, right. But I must object to the disrespect of the mortal.”

Odin grunted, but nodded after a moment. “Why is it that you are so upset at our treatment of the Fallen Ones, Steven?”

“I believe that they have suffered more than enough, Alfather. They are dying off now, and, contrary to the teachings of Jehovah, I do not believe that the sins of the father should be paid for by the son.”

Odin grunted more deeply, and nodded once more. “The novel human concept of liberty, agency, and self-determination; The veil of ignorance. You argue from this standpoint, yes?”

I nodded. Odin nodded, and looked around to the other gods. They seemed to fidget, and began to murmur amongst themselves. They fell silent as Odin raised his hand.

Odin stood and addressed the gods, “I propose that we end the punishment of the Fallen Ones. All in favor, say “Aye.””

A chorus of “Aye” rang out, shortly followed by an equally loud “Nay.”

“Shall any abstain?” two hands were raised, “Very well, then. The motion neither passes nor fails. I will amend my motion; we grant a probationary Demi-God status to Steven, and allow his performance to determine the fate of the Fallen Ones.”

This time, Jehovah spoke up. “Alfather, this is madness! You propose we reward the mortal for his impudence? That we further separate ourselves from the other mortals?”

Odin shook his head, “No, Jehovah. I propose that he stand by his words. If he speaks the truth, he will accept, and guide his people to redemption. In doing so, he will restore some of our power, and he will complete our task.

“I have seen that we cannot rule over the mortals as we once did. Like it or not, the mortal races have grown such that to exercise our control as we have will smother them, and bring ruin to our creation.

“So I ask again, all In favor?” A much louder clamor of “Aye” rang out. “Opposed?” Jehovah and Dike were the only two to oppose. “Shall any abstain?” No hands were raised. “Then the motion carries. Prepare yourself mortal; this will not be pleasant.”

Suddenly, the gods disappeared, leaving only the darkness and the brazier. Then, all I could see was pain.

Author's Note

I've put this off for far too long. I'm posting now; Hello.