“That’s comforting,” Tristan murmured.
“If they are back, the prophecy is coming true?” Aloisia asked.
Inari shrugged. “Who can say for certain? Such things may be naught more than a bedtime story intended to scare children into being good. Or, it could be true, and everything we know is about to collapse into Damnation.”
“They cannot have emerged on their own, right?” Aloisia resumed pacing across the narrow space. “By the legends, someone had to have remembered them, worshipped them. Someone had to call them forth.”
“If they are supposed to be unknown,” Tristan said, “how then do you know about them? Why are there legends about them at all? By such logic, they must have awoken long before now. After all, you and your people have kept their memory in your legends.”
“And we are not the only ones.” Inari scratched his bearded chin. “I suppose you are correct, priest. Who am I to say what the specific terms of their curse are? The legends say they must be called forth, however. It is not enough to simply be remembered. None worship them, or at least none did.”
“Someone has unleashed them…” Aloisia paused, staring at the door. “But why?”
“When you find them, you ought to ask.”
She shot Inari a glare, which only won her another fiendish grin.
“Why have you been serving them?” Tristan asked. “You gave them sacrifices, offerings. Why? You said the Gnarled Gods were your own. Why serve them?”
“When gods come knocking, it is best to answer, no?” Inari raised a shoulder in a half shrug. “You must find something to offer them. Lest it be your own life that is forfeit. Apologies again, priest, for earlier. I was desperate.”
“Why?” Tristan pressed. “You do not seem so desperate now.”
“They were no longer satisfied. About one week ago, they descended upon this forest. It was like a black fog rising from the forest floor, blowing in from the cliffs.”
Aloisia shuddered, remembering how a strange mist had rolled in, just as he said, about a week ago. She had watched it drift from the cliffs into the Dead Woods and thought nothing of it.
“From all angles, it came,” Inari continued. “And then, it took form. Twisted limbs, elongated torsos, faceless beings. You have seen them yourselves. They were weaker to begin with, more mist than solid. Of course, I had heard the legends. But, as with most of our myths, I believed them to be stories and nothing more. Something far distant from our current world. Yet there they were. The Forgotten Gods. On my doorstep.”
“They haven’t been here long?”
“Not within this forest, no. From their appearance, I do not think they had long since been called upon. The more sacrifices I gave, the more their shape took on corporeal form. But they came from somewhere. Whomever called upon them, they are not in this forest. Not as far as I know.”
“Have you lived here for long?” Aloisia asked.
“A few months, maybe more.”
“And they didn’t appear before last week?”
He shook his head.
“Where are you from?” Tristan asked.
Inari smirked. “Not here.”
“Why didn’t you seek help when they appeared?”
“Their presence did not initially concern me. And I have not ventured past this forest since I arrived.”
A frown furrowed Aloisia’s brow. “How did you get here? If you haven’t been beyond this forest.”
Inari breathed a laugh. “So many questions. And none of them the ones I agreed to answer.”
“Fine.” She folded her arms over her chest. “You said these gods were no longer satisfied with your sacrifices. How so? What happened?”
“I had been leaving some of my kills out for them, as a tribute. More to appease them than as anything demanded. I did not wish to court their ill tidings. And it seemed to work, to begin with. One would come and take it away, and I would not see them for the rest of the day and some of the next. Then, two nights past, more came. And, when there was not more in the way of an offering, they became aggravated.”
“They wanted more?”
