Timestamp: 2nd of Cylus, Arc 722
Location: The Glass Tree, Almund
Cad had never really been one for religion.
That in itself was strange considering that he was a mortalborn. His very existence was direct proof of the Immortal's influence on the world. Though perhaps, in a strange way, that in itself was why he wasn't particularly keen on worship. He couldn't claim to have interacted with his mother, Aeva, all that often, but whenever he had she had spoken to him as a mother, not as a goddess. Immortals were certainly powerful beings, and would never fail to intimidate him in some way, but it was hard to view such being with the sense of wonder and mystique most did when you'd seen one of them swear to themselves after dropping a frying pan on their foot whilst trying to make you bacon and eggs.
Yet here was, technically the first follower of new most powerful Immortal on the block. As far as he was aware Valtharn had not made any major moves on the world since her apotheosis, but Cad had no doubts that she was doing as she'd said she would during their last meeting: practising with and mastering her newfound powers. Power which he had little doubt she'd turn upon him if she ever found him lacking as a subordinate. Perhaps the biggest problem with being the first initiate of an entirely new religion was that he had absolutely no resources at his disposal to tell him what he was actually supposed to do. From their first meeting he had a rough idea as to the sort of person Valtharn was, but he didn't have nearly enough information to know what sort of actions would earn her favour, and which her disapproval. Did she expect him to learn the ways of the warrior like her, or was she happy for him to stay as the behind-the-scenes schemer he preferred to be? Would she appreciate gifts of weapons he forged for her, or see them as insults to the equipment she already had? Did she want him to take action against her rival Immortals, or to keep a low profile and prepare for some future plan? There was nobody he could turn to for guidance.
Nobody except the Immortal herself at least.
Which was why Cad found himself at the foot of the glass tree, clutching a small glass bauble in his hands. It was, to be frank, hideous: a lumpy pole about the size of his palm, with a pale green ribbon threaded through a lopsided hole at one side. Cad had made it himself, believing that for a craftsman of such skill as himself one little glass trinket would be no problem. Oh how wrong he'd been. What had been intended to be a sword looked more like a bulbous club. Nonetheless his father had taught him that dedicating gifts to any Immortal was not so simple a matter of buying some expensive present. What they truly appreciated was the devotion that went into the gifts: the effort and personal sacrifice they went through for their sake. The few offerings Cad had ever left for Immortals had always been things he'd made with his own hands, and he saw to no reason to stop that tradition now.
Tying the ugly bauble to a branch of the tree, Cad looked around briefly to double-check that nobody else was around. This late at night the area was deserted, save for the distant rowdy laughter of a tavern in the distance. Satisfied that nobody was around to overhear, he closed his eyes and brought his hands together in the symbol for prayer.
"Valtharn." He began, then found himself abruptly pausing. He was still unsure as to how to speak to her. She'd preferred a less formal manner of speech back during their first meeting, and had treated the whole becoming-a-follower business rather casually, as if offering him a job. Equally though Cad was under no illusions that she'd be quick to punish any perceived rudeness, and he didn't yet know where that line lay.
Keep it short and to-the-point then. The less unnecessary words, the less chance one might offend her.
"I've grown stronger since our last meeting." He continued. "I have a company now, and all the wealth that comes from it. I have minions, and though they lack experience, they're obedient and gutsy enough to be useful. My skill in magic is growing too. I can be useful to you now." He paused again, hesitant to put his thoughts into words. "But I don't know how to be. I know the power you offered is something that must be earned, but I don't know how to earn it. I don't know what sort of people you want for followers, what actions it would please you to have done in your name, or even who you consider your enemies to be. So... would you tell me?" The question sounded awkward even to his ears, lingering in the silence of the night-time air like a pathetic ghost. Cad brought his hands down and opened his eyes to glare at the tree, knowing at least enough about Valtharn to understand that she'd prefer those talking to her to at least show a little backbone, and tried again.
"Tell me what I can do to earn your power.
That in itself was strange considering that he was a mortalborn. His very existence was direct proof of the Immortal's influence on the world. Though perhaps, in a strange way, that in itself was why he wasn't particularly keen on worship. He couldn't claim to have interacted with his mother, Aeva, all that often, but whenever he had she had spoken to him as a mother, not as a goddess. Immortals were certainly powerful beings, and would never fail to intimidate him in some way, but it was hard to view such being with the sense of wonder and mystique most did when you'd seen one of them swear to themselves after dropping a frying pan on their foot whilst trying to make you bacon and eggs.
Yet here was, technically the first follower of new most powerful Immortal on the block. As far as he was aware Valtharn had not made any major moves on the world since her apotheosis, but Cad had no doubts that she was doing as she'd said she would during their last meeting: practising with and mastering her newfound powers. Power which he had little doubt she'd turn upon him if she ever found him lacking as a subordinate. Perhaps the biggest problem with being the first initiate of an entirely new religion was that he had absolutely no resources at his disposal to tell him what he was actually supposed to do. From their first meeting he had a rough idea as to the sort of person Valtharn was, but he didn't have nearly enough information to know what sort of actions would earn her favour, and which her disapproval. Did she expect him to learn the ways of the warrior like her, or was she happy for him to stay as the behind-the-scenes schemer he preferred to be? Would she appreciate gifts of weapons he forged for her, or see them as insults to the equipment she already had? Did she want him to take action against her rival Immortals, or to keep a low profile and prepare for some future plan? There was nobody he could turn to for guidance.
Nobody except the Immortal herself at least.
Which was why Cad found himself at the foot of the glass tree, clutching a small glass bauble in his hands. It was, to be frank, hideous: a lumpy pole about the size of his palm, with a pale green ribbon threaded through a lopsided hole at one side. Cad had made it himself, believing that for a craftsman of such skill as himself one little glass trinket would be no problem. Oh how wrong he'd been. What had been intended to be a sword looked more like a bulbous club. Nonetheless his father had taught him that dedicating gifts to any Immortal was not so simple a matter of buying some expensive present. What they truly appreciated was the devotion that went into the gifts: the effort and personal sacrifice they went through for their sake. The few offerings Cad had ever left for Immortals had always been things he'd made with his own hands, and he saw to no reason to stop that tradition now.
Tying the ugly bauble to a branch of the tree, Cad looked around briefly to double-check that nobody else was around. This late at night the area was deserted, save for the distant rowdy laughter of a tavern in the distance. Satisfied that nobody was around to overhear, he closed his eyes and brought his hands together in the symbol for prayer.
"Valtharn." He began, then found himself abruptly pausing. He was still unsure as to how to speak to her. She'd preferred a less formal manner of speech back during their first meeting, and had treated the whole becoming-a-follower business rather casually, as if offering him a job. Equally though Cad was under no illusions that she'd be quick to punish any perceived rudeness, and he didn't yet know where that line lay.
Keep it short and to-the-point then. The less unnecessary words, the less chance one might offend her.
"I've grown stronger since our last meeting." He continued. "I have a company now, and all the wealth that comes from it. I have minions, and though they lack experience, they're obedient and gutsy enough to be useful. My skill in magic is growing too. I can be useful to you now." He paused again, hesitant to put his thoughts into words. "But I don't know how to be. I know the power you offered is something that must be earned, but I don't know how to earn it. I don't know what sort of people you want for followers, what actions it would please you to have done in your name, or even who you consider your enemies to be. So... would you tell me?" The question sounded awkward even to his ears, lingering in the silence of the night-time air like a pathetic ghost. Cad brought his hands down and opened his eyes to glare at the tree, knowing at least enough about Valtharn to understand that she'd prefer those talking to her to at least show a little backbone, and tried again.
"Tell me what I can do to earn your power.
