Archaic Era, Year 784

Fereshteh POV 

The first time I ever saw Hallow Elian, the famed Turtle-God, the Hallow (the title given to a lesser god) who governed the domains of Protection and Healing, he looked nothing like I had expected. 

When I was young, my mother had raised me on stories of his feats and prowess. Over the years I’d created a very specific and enduring image of him in my head. A muscular man with bronzed skin, accented by silver and gold armor. At his side, a beautifully forged sword and shield. Perfectly curled hair and a dark beard would frame a softly handsome face, and a pristine red cape at his back would complete the look of a true hero. 

The moment my eldest brother told me he would be visiting our fair capital of Paradei, I knew I needed to meet him. No, not just to meet him; I had to utterly wow him with my storytelling channeling prowess! Being the genius princess of the Empire of Vardaz, I could not let such an opportunity pass! 

Every single legend of the Turtle-God’s that I knew, I practiced for hours and hours. Scant hours before the Turtle-God’s arrival, I asked the attendants to help dress me and do my make-up. Fortunately, my vile twin was not here to mess up the feast or performance with his awful pranks; tradition dictated that princes train with the military for years. 

The preparations crawled on smoothly like a snail, and passed the appointed hour entirely, when the Hallow proved to be delayed. But, as inexorable as fate, our time of meeting did at last arrive in late evening! I smoothed imaginary wrinkles from my dress. (I absolutely was not drying the copious sweat upon my palms! I do not sweat!) After breathing a few moments, I strode out between the brightly dyed curtains and into the banquet hall.   

The chattering nobles attending the feast fell silent as I made my way onto the stage, and for a brief moment I genuinely believed some great misfortune had waylaid our land’s beloved Turtle-God, and a foul impostor had infiltrated in his stead. Perhaps that was even why he had been so egregiously late! That man seated there at a place of honor, guzzling down all the food in sight and laughing boisterously with the nobles, could not have been Hallow Elian! 

His skin, though tanned by many years in the sun, was still much lighter than mine and covered in ancient scars. His hair, too, was a mess, cascading in tangles over his broad shoulders. And his beard, rather his lack of one…the less said of that, the better. 

Still, my eldest brother, seated at the head of the table, did not seem suspicious of this person... Well. I had made a promise, and so I would put on the singular greatest performance of my life, be this person god or impostor! 

‘Channeling’ is what we call a number of methods of wielding divine magic. The courts of Vardaz consider me a genius in the most sublime forms of channeling: singing, dancing, painting, poetry. Despite this, I was forced to admit that my godly audience had never been in the same room as me, nor had I ever been so acutely aware of them watching me intently. I was sure they had been watching me, of course, otherwise none of my channeling or magic would have worked in the past, but naturally they were usually watching all of us mortals from some unknowable godly realm, as was the way of things. Not sitting in the same room, breathing the same air and eating the same food. It was…a little intimidating…

Typically, I have only performed for the women and children of the harem, their attendants, and perhaps my brothers. But these forms of magic were developed as an offering for the gods, in exchange for their magic and aid. With a god in attendance, it was only proper that he be entertained in such a fashion by me, the most skillful and talented of them all! The promise of a god recognizing my genius made my heart pound in excitement (definitely not anxiety!), outweighing my doubts that he might be an impostor. 

But even among the gods, the Turtle-God was quite unique. It was difficult to tell exactly what his preferences really were, among disciplines of channeling. But the classics are considered classic for a reason. Surely he would enjoy popular retellings of his own greatest feats. 

The chime of a bell rang through the air, as the musicians to the side of the stage began the accompanying music. The little bells and jewels on my dress tingled pleasantly in harmony as I stomped my foot three times, then gracefully swept my arm across the audience. 

“The Turtle-God’s armor was gilded, and his hands shone with healing light. Truly none wondered why he was the most respected and adored of all the gods. Where he tread, he brought healing and light. The man who has witnessed much and knows much, this is but one of many of his tales, the tale of how a boy became our most beloved god,” I proclaimed in song, and began the story of the Turtle-God’s ascension to godhood. As I sang, I began to move my arms with slow and deliberate movements—the epitome of grace. I opened my mouth to speak to my captive audience again, as a few musicians to the side of the stage plucked at their instruments in rhythm. 

“Not long after the dawn of time, after the Sun Fiend, the fearsome Mother of Monsters had birthed her vile army and began her brutal war against the other Crowns, humanity was hunted by monsters. The monsters ran in pursuit of humanity, and humanity ran in fear, until they reached the ends of the world, where land gave way to sea.” I moved across the stage in sinuous motion as I sang, until I found my next marked spot, and began my dance afresh. “There they could no longer run, and so Crown Naruune ascended from the soil and showed them how to fire clay into bricks, how to stack bricks into a wall, and then a house, and then a barrier. Thus was built Gresha, humanity’s first great city. It was built with great towering walls that would shut out the hordes of monsters, paved with streets of gold, and grew verdant fields of crops. For the first time in history, humanity prospered. 

“But the Sun Fiend had always been bitter and envious. That which she saw, she desired to possess. That which she could not possess, she desired to burn,” I spoke in a grave tone. “With humanity far beyond her reach, she instead resolved to turn their great city to ash, and so she called upon the eldest and most wicked of her children: Talon the Half-Drake. The boy born of a human father and a monstrous mother, whose own monstrous nature caused him to spill the blood of his own human kin in the pursuit of greater power. Such a heartless beast had been entrusted to lead the Sun Fiend’s army, and so she trusted his power and his ruthlessness, knowing he would see her task through to completion…” 

“My son, my general, my wicked heart, Talon the Half-Drake, she beckoned. Go forth. Raze the gold-paved streets to rubble, stain the silver-water with putrid blood, and burn the verdant gardens to ash!

The area around the audience was darkened, but I felt their gaze upon me, and heard their mutters of condemnation against the Fiend and her spawn. It felt as warm as the candles surrounding me, a warmth that fizzed and bubbled somewhere deep in my belly. I took a moment to bask in the feeling, then continued. 

“Her son, as cunning as he was hateful and as powerful as he was vile, rallied his half-siblings and departed for the field of battle. There he stood atop a great stone and nocked his war bow with one of his mother’s awful blazing javelins, forged from rays of the sun itself. The wall, though stalwart and well-constructed, the sweat of hundreds of Greshans, was nothing before such a prodigious weapon. Monsters assaulted the breach, as the wicked Half-Drake observed the Greshan’s defense from afar. Many fled their homes in panic, others cowered in hopes they’d be spared, but one boy met the monster horde head-on, in hopes of protecting his beloved home of Gresha. 

“This boy named Elian picked up his father’s worn armor and shield, and went to meet his monstrous attackers, but he was only human, and sustained many wounds. Still, his immense courage inspired those who had chosen to hide instead of fight, and they prayed that the Crowns would empower him. And behold, Crown Naruune, Goddess of Earth and Sea, answered their prayer. As Elian fought, he found his limbs welling with a boundless energy, his wounds closing up and healing, his leather armor becoming silver-gilt. Single-handedly he drove the monsters back with a newfound power, and even the Half-Drake was forced to take notice of the newly-born Hallow.”

As I sang of the fight, the musicians by the side began to pluck faster, and my movements matched their pace. Soon I stopped, as they started to pluck in a cheerier key instead. 

“Hallow Elian was celebrated by the people he had saved and they named him their king, and he proved a wise and just ruler. He oversaw the reconstruction of the city, and under his rule Gresha City prospered thricefold. Stories of his greatness traveled far and wide, attracting great legions of travelers and pilgrims who wished to see them. And with them came Talon the Half-Drake.”

I paused, as the crowd booed and jeered. Descriptions of the Half-Drake always seemed to draw this kind of reaction—imagine my younger self’s reaction when I believed my audience was booing not the character, but me! Fortunately I had more experience and thicker skin now; once their noises died down, I continued on with my retelling. 

“Talon was not only dangerous because of his cunning mind and great power, being half-human he was capable of disguising himself as a mortal man, and blending within the crowd which now sought entry into Gresha to pay homage to the new God-King. Though many advised Hallow Elian against allowing such masses of strangers into their city, the benevolent Turtle-God welcomed all. But soon after he stepped within the gates, he noticed one visitor in particular. 

“Hail, stranger. I see your war bow and your blades. What purpose have you within my City? Hallow Elian asked the Sun Fiend’s son. To which the Half-Drake replied: 

“I am a simple traveling warrior from distant lands, seeking a worthy master. 

“What fortune! I am a new King seeking a worthy warrior to captain my armies! The two agreed upon a duel to settle the matter of who was worthier, and the great crowds of Gresha gathered round. The duel went on for three days, after which Hallow Elian was declared to be the victor, and Talon the Half-Drake was welcomed into Gresha as the head of all its armies. Hallow Elian and the Half-Drake went on to become great friends, and embarked on many adventures together.” 

Here I paused, and with me paused the music. The whole room seemed to hold its breath as I caught mine. Then a single note was struck and the mood changed; the cheerful and relaxed tune became a tense and suspenseful one, and my voice dropped in tone. 

“…until the day the Sun Fiend reminded Talon of his duties, and the boy born of beasts chose to stab the young Turtle-God in the back at his mother’s behest. 

“The arrogant Half-Drake believed himself victorious, turning his back upon the friend he had tricked, and prepared to call his monstrous blood to ravage the Turtle-God’s beloved city.” Here I stood firm, and struck a heroic pose. “But as he did so, the deity rose and spoke hence: You believed you had tricked me, but I always knew no human could accomplish the feats you did. Only a monster or a hero. I was giving you the chance to decide which you would be, but having chosen monster, I am now forced to slay you.” 

The rhythm of the instruments began again with a sort of frenzy, and my own dance picked up speed. Like lightning or a raging wildfire, I darted back and forth across the stage, acting out the duel between god and monster. The fabric of my dress and scarf flashed and flared as I spun, as I finally used the magic I had been attempting to channel from the Hallow. My heart skipped and leaped as I saw it succeed, creating sparks of color and light—he was listening! He liked it! I mean—of course he was listening. He was right there in the audience this time. 

“For seven days and seven nights they fought viciously, and the citizens of Gresha cowered in their homes. Until on the dawn of the eighth day, the rising sun blinded the Turtle-God, and the injured and exhausted Half-Drake fled Gresha, to lick his wounds. 

“For seven more days, the Turtle-God rested and healed his wounds as his people feasted and rejoiced his victory. But when he recovered he arose, and commanded his advisors to hold a series of contests to determine his successor as King. 

“The Half-Drake is not dead, and his trail grows ever colder, he announced. I must finish what I have begun. It is my responsibility as your god. 

“But though the Turtle-God was an expert hunter and knew his quarry well, the Half-Drake was still fast and clever, and had all monsterkind as his allies. But the Turtle-God is steadfast and determined as he is altruistic and benevolent, and though he has yet to capture the Half-Drake to this day, neither has he ceased in his pursuit. 

“And so ends my tale, though surely the story continues.”

 I finished, breathless. I ended the tale frozen in a bow, as applause washed over my ears. My many layers of clothes were heavy with sweat, but there was a proud smile on my face. Finally, I raised my head and met the Turtle God’s eyes. The fervor of the stage drained from my mind, allowing me to evaluate his reactions more reliably. 

Damn my impeccable talent for reading body language. That strained smile, that look of resignation…he hated it! 

I deflated entirely.