Before Creation could defend the work that Light did on behalf of mankind, and would continue to do once Chaos was destroyed, Hunt raised a hand and pointed. Atop a hill, wide and winding stairs led to a large structure on the edge of the city.
“May I present your temple,” Hunt said dramatically with a small smirk.
“This . . .is for me?”
“Yes.” She began walking as she spoke. “They outfitted it for you, and because it has been deemed in your honor, there’s power here, a sort of barrier if you will that prevents unwelcome gods from spying or entering. When Earth told me of it, I thought it’d be perfect for our purposes.”
“Then I could just . . .” Creation’s words trailed off mid-sentence.I could just hide her here, was what he was going to say. But Destruction wasn’t some trinket to be stored away in a vault.
“Yes, I doubt she’d take kindly to the idea,” Hunt agreed, easily hearing his unspoken statement. “And the barrier is not quite a tangible force—more of an etiquette among gods. Anyone who trespasses will feel a general discomfort. And, even if Chaos somehow couldn’t just stroll in, then she would rattle these foundations to their core to get to Destruction . . . But I think it will be a good place for you to make me my weapon.”
They arrived at the entrance of the temple, the doors pulled open. Creation wandered ahead, awed by the delicate stonework lining the atrium, the various tools of craftsmen held up on pedestals. At the far back hung a portrait of, he assumed, him, judging from the swoop of white hair across the painted man’s face.
Hunt clearing her throat brought him back to reality. “You need to invite me into your temple, that whole barrier-not-barrier thing.”
“Oh, right. Please come in, Hunt,” Creation said, hoping he didn’t need to be any more ceremonious than that. Her step in assured him he didn’t. “We’re here, what now?”
“Let’s find a space we can work.”
The two began to explore, walking through the various halls and rooms of the temple. It was more like a palace, really, on the inside. Toward the back, behind the main congregation area, they stumbled on an elderly man donned in yards of white fabric.
“Prince of Gods.” He fell to his knees. “Goddess Mielikki.”
Creation glanced at Hunt on hearing the strange name. He would never understand the mortal’s need to give a name to everything. It seemed much easier to call the pantheon by that which they were the patrons of. Or, at least have all mortals agree on a singular set of names. But he didn’t correct the mortals who referred to Light as Zeus and he certainly wouldn’t start now.
“You honor this lowly priest of creation with your presence. How may I be of service to your cause?”
“I have come to inspect my temple,” Creation said with an air of authority. “Is there a place I may take rest and work?”
“Yes, of course, the God’s Wing has been prepared for you. All craftsmen of the city have left offerings for you there.”
“Show me.”
The man led them back toward the entrance and off to the side, up a narrow spiral stair, and through a heavy door. “These chambers are not touched, save for offerings. I shall tell your acolytes you have come to honor us. You will hear them sing joyous praise to you for hours to come.”
“Thank you,” Creation wasn’t sure what else there was to be said. He was grateful for it all, but had asked for none of this.
“It is our honor, Lord Snow.” The priest gave one more bow—so low he almost fell flat on his face. Then, one to Hunt. “Lady Mielikki.” With that, he quickly departed.
“Lord Snow?” Creation repeated, starting through one of the three doors that branched off the landing.
“It seems you received your first mortal name.” Hunt gave a small grin. “At least it’s a fairly simple one.”
“Though it makes no sense,” he sighed. Snow had more to do with “God of Winter,” as one mortal had incorrectly called him, than creation.
“Perhaps your hair and general glow?” she suggested. Further conversation on mortals and names was cut short as Creation opened the door to a modest but exceptionally well put together workshop. There were tools of every shape and size and long wooden tables and wide beams along the stone ceiling.
“This is all for me?” Creation wondered aloud, looking back to the landing.What was hidden behind the other two doors?
Hunt’s fingers ran lightly along the surface of a table. “Just wait until you have shrines popping up everywhere—little ones in small towns, big ones in cities. You never know what you’ll find there. The offerings really are a delight to pick through.”
“I suppose we’ll see when we get to that point,” he said, pretending to be optimistic. Nothing felt guaranteed as long as Chaos lived, not even the next morning’s sunrise. Which brought Creation to the reason they came to this particular corner of the world. “About your weapon . . .”
“Yes.” Hunt crossed to the table. “The champion I have in mind will be an archer.”
He could’ve guessed, given the large bow strapped to the goddess’s back. “So you’ll need a bow and arrow, then?”
Hunt paused, thinking. Strumming her fingers along the table, she finally shook her head. “Just the arrow. I don’t want a bow of god-like power roaming the world.”
