Hannah eyed Brant as he finally entered the house, two hours after she'd left him. She'd just been talking to Baird, catching up some more with her old friend. Chariya stood in the kitchen, cooking for Abigail, who'd said she felt a little better, but still a bit weak. The soldiers sat around, some playing card games, and others playing video games, but all entertaining themselves one way or another. 

"I've come to a realization." Brant stated simply, "It's as if my eyes've been opened, and I've been allowed to see that which has previously been hidden." 

Hannah nodded. "And what's dat?" 

"Well, I was thinking over the sacred texts, and the historical accounts in them. And I began to realize, our gods are a pack of liars. They've been recorded on many occasions to have strung their followers along with promises and grand vows they never intended to keep. They only use mankind to accomplish their pleasure." 

Baird scratched his chin. "I can see that being so. But is that the extent of your realization?" 

"Not at all. See, the priests have long taught that the contentions and strife in this world result from mankind's alliance with the Evil Spirit, who assisted them in driving the gods out from this world eons ago. But Dhamukhan was an outcast among them, the would-be god of gluttony. He requires constant sacrifice to satisfy his insatiable appetite. But yet, the cults who serve him have all died off, and therefore, his continued existence is unlikely." 

When Brant paused, Hannah cleared her throat and said, "So, what're ya gettin' at?" 

"The Evil Spirit has departed from this world, and yet disharmony remains. It isn't he who keeps mankind divided. It's the gods themselves who whisper in the ears of some, and bring about troubles and wars for their own ends." 

"Also known as demonic influence, but continue." Baird muttered. 

Brant narrowed his eyes. "The demons of your religion don't exist. Only 27 spirits exist outside of mankind, and only one of them was never deemed a god. The Evil Spirit." 

"Well," Baird began, inhaling deeply, "it's my belief that who you call gods, are in reality only demons, distracting us from the one true God who rules over all." 

"Anyway," Brant began, "the conclusion of my realization is that the gods' ability to travel into the physical realm must be eradicated. To that end, the artifacts must be destroyed." 

Baird wrinkled his forehead. "The gods are trapped in the spiritual realm currently, right?" 

"That's what I said." 

"Well, what're we really accomplishing by trapping them there? According to you, even from the spiritual realm, they can 'whisper in the ears of some', and you give that influence credit for the world's troubles. So how does destroying their chance of physical manifestation accomplish anything?" 

Brant cleared his throat. "If the artifacts are destroyed, man's faith in the gods will be shaken, creating less susceptibility for their influence to be cast upon people." 

"Mankind needs no help to believe foolishness, and often, they prefer to do so against evidence." Baird remarked dryly before he spun on his heel and headed for the kitchen. 

Brant glared at Baird's retreating figure. Then his eyes swept down and alighted on Hannah's face. He sighed. "No matter what he says, the artifacts must be destroyed." 

Hannah nodded and unclipped her necklace. "So, how're we gonna destroy dis?" 

The blue-eyed man marveled at the breathtaking sapphire gem that the girl placed in his hands. Every angle of lighting caused the jewel to gleam and display various shades of blue, ranging from deep indigo in the shadows, to cerulean hues in brightest light. 

Finally, Brant met Hannah's gaze and cleared his throat. "I don't know. Let's find out." 

***************** 

Brant exhaled and wiped his sweaty brow. The sapphire artifact lay before him on a concrete work table, surrounded by broken drill bits, saws with chipped teeth, and a screwdriver with a dented wooden handle. Hannah sat on the other end of the table with her mouth agape, her eyes fixed on the still undamaged gem. 

Finally, Brant grabbed a hammer with a huff and swung down. A loud ring pierced the air as the jewel cracked slightly. Hannah threw her hands over her ears. Brant, however, merely gritted his teeth and swung again. He gasped as a shockwave of energy sent him flying back into a punching bag. The gem shattered into hundreds of pieces, emanating a bright cyan glow as the shards flew around the room, several of them penetrating his skin. 

When Hannah cried out in pain and fell to the floor, Brant forgot his own discomfort and scuttled over to her. "Hannah!" he shouted, lifting her into his arms, "Are you alright?" 

She gasped for breath. "Yeah...I'm fine." she silently pointed at her forearm and bit back tears. 

Brant looked down and grimaced. A jagged shard of the gem pierced her arm and formed a serrated blade. Just great, he thought, the only way to get this out is to make the wound bigger. He met her eyes and tightened his lips. "This is gonna hurt. I'm sorry." 

Hannah nodded and bit her lip. 

With that, Brant grasped the foreign object and snatched it out of her forearm with one quick jerk. She winced, but made no noise, aside from a small yelp contained in her mouth. She stuck out her bottom lip and let a tear slip. Brant quickly covered her wound with the palm of his hand while he groped with the other for a med-kit that was just over an arm's reach away. 

Hannah noticed his inability to reach the metal box, so she scooted over, allowing him to grab it with ease. Before long, he'd cleaned the wound, bandaged it up, and helped her to her feet. 

"You alright?" he asked gently. 

She nodded and smiled up at him as much as she could. "Thanks to you, yeah." 

Brant opened his mouth to say something more, but then the door opened, and Baird stepped into the basement. 

"What was that loud bang I heard in here?" he asked, glancing around the area covered in blue shards resembling shattered glass. 

"The destruction of the artifact was more difficult than I'd anticipated." Brant answered in a matter-of-fact tone. 

"I can see that." Baird mumbled, his eyes glancing over his broken and damaged tools on the work table. Then, a fragment clinked to the ground, and the quiet swishing of sand leaving the punching bag in the corner caused him to narrow his eyes at nobody in particular and exhale. He jerked his thumb at the exit. "Out!" 

Brant put a hand on Hannah's shoulder and guided her over to the stairs. Just before he placed his foot on the first step, he cast one last glance at Baird, and the two shared a tension-filled gaze. He's just like the others. He thinks I'm unworthy. He hates me, like everybody else. Brant closed his eyes and began his ascent. 

******************** 

Closely followed by a quartet of Alcontean soldiers, Zoko Ararantes stepped through an iron gateway. His white robes fluttered in the breeze as he sauntered across a sprawling pasture, inquisitive gaze fixed on the clean-shaven youth standing in the middle, who stared right back. A massive crew of diggers surrounded the man, shovels and picks in their hands. 

"Thou hast summoned me." Zoko declared as he approached the man, "To what end hast thou done so?" 

The young man rubbed his hand across his smooth cheek. "Well, mah wife and me just bought dis here house, y'know, because we was just redistributed from Odego, and y'know—" 

"I hath not excessive time to waste, young man. Let thy words be few." 

"Well, so I grabbed mah metal detector, y'know, and I was runnin' it over the field, and when it got to dat spot," he said, pointing at the growing hole in the ground, "it started beepin' like crazy, y'know, like I ne'er seen it do before!" 

Zoko nodded and stepped over to the ditch. He glanced down and scratched his chin. "So thou uncovered a wooden chest. What then, is thy difficulty?" 

"Well, originally, we dropped them ropes down and tried to pull 'er up, y'know, but she wouldn't come. So for a week now, we been expandin' the hole, and tryin' again, tryin' to make room for some leverage, but it don't look like we're gonna get it, good 'n honestly." 

Zoko raised an eyebrow and stepped back over to the excavation. He waved the workers aside and slid down the shallow hole. He glanced over the wooden chest as he rolled his sleeves up to his elbows. Then he slipped his hands under the splintery bottom, gritted his teeth, and heaved the container over his head. With a grunt, he hurled it out of the crater. 

The moment Zoko returned to the surface, he pointed at his soldiers. "Make haste, and open the chest." 

The owner of the field rushed up to the white-robed man with a grin pasted on his face. "If it turns out to be a treasure, do I get to keep it?" 

Zoko glared. "Of course not! It may very well be one of the long-lost artifacts, and if that be so, it befittest not a mere untrained farmer to take hold of it." 

"Well, nobody's to say I can't undergo dat trainin', huh?" 

The white-robed man rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to reply, but a priest in skin-tight blue apparel raced through the gateway and skidded to a halt at his side. 

"My lord!" the priest cried, prostrating himself before Zoko. 

Zoko raised an eyebrow. This is proving to be quite an interesting day. "If thou hast something of importance, I urge thee on to say it swiftly." 

"Jay's voice...he calls to me! He whispers loudly in my ears, but yet, his voice is all the clearer than before!" 

"Jay, dat god of beauty o' yours?" the clean-shaven man asked. 

Zoko nodded before he turned back to the perturbed priest. "His voice ringeth clearly in thine ears?" 

"It does, my lord!" 

"This is not good." he declared, "The louder the gods' voices doth speak in the spiritual realm, the weaker their grip on the physical is. Perhaps..." 

"Perhaps what?" 

Zoko's brow furrowed. "Perhaps the artifact hath been found and somehow destroyed! We must redouble our efforts to discover them all!" 

The priest dropped his face to the ground and moistened the the earth with his tears. 

Spinning on his heel, Zoko headed for the gateway, stopping again as a frantic soldier dashed into his path and collided with him. 

"I'm so sorry, sir, but I just got news from Jasmidian!" the man cried. 

"Hath Falcon been found?" 

"No, sir! Local Alcontean forces razed the nearby rebel stronghold to the ground and killed all the insurgents inside, but he was nowhere to be found in the ruins. Neither did the numerous search parties scouring the area find a single sign of him!" 

Zoko's eyebrows drew closer and closer together, nearly touching by the time his frown had reached its limit. "Powerful forces are at work. First, Jay has somehow been compromised, and now we cannot find Falcon?" He exhaled. "Send word to Central Command and have the search extended to all Alcontean possessions. We cannot afford to lose Falcon, nor another artifact!" 

The soldier saluted. "Yes sir!" 

With that, Zoko turned to check on the men prying the wooden chest open. As he approached, they gave one last tug, and the two halves flew open. He widened his eyes in anticipation, only to narrow them a second later. The box had been filled with nothing but lead blocks. 

"Thou hast wasted my time greatly!" he shouted, shaking his fist in the field owner's face. 

The youth flipped him off. "Well, I'm sorry, I didn't know! If I'd known dat, I woulda never called ya!" 

Zoko grunted and stormed off toward the exit. His soldiers leapt to their feet and followed him. A cruel hand is at work here. For the sake of the Divine Flock, I must increase my efforts tenfold. 

********************* 

A/N: A lot of lore-building in this chapter, huh? I think this is really the first time in my writing where I've had worldbuilding of great enough depth to even have lore in the first place. Anyway, I hope it was interesting, and if you thought it was, please do vote and comment. 😁 

So, what did you find most intriguing about this chapter? 

Next Thursday is Thanksgiving Day, where I live in the US, anyways, and I'm looking forward to engorgi-I mean feasting myself. Now, I'm considering giving ya'll something to be thankful about on the Friday and Saturday following that. 

*drumroll* 

Would anybody be interested in not one, but TWO double updates next week, same schedule, but two each day? If so, let me know. Otherwise I won't waste my time. 😂 

And now for my random question: What's your favorite YouTube channel? (If you watch YouTube, that is. If not...who are you? 😝) 

(This is a hard one for me, because I love a lot of them for very different reasons. I guess this answer may not stand for all time, but I'm currently really enjoying a channel called Shadiversity. He's a historical swordsman who has lots of interesting videos on intriguing questions on that topic, and he even breaks down some movie sword fights and evaluates their accuracy. [Pssst, the throne room fight in Star Wars: The Last Jedi is comedy gold when slowed down, it's so bad.] Anyhow, I really like Shadiversity, so I'll settle on that for now.)

Well, that's it for me this morning! I hope you have an awesome weekend and week ahead of you. And if you celebrate it when I do, Happy Thanksgiving! Until Friday, farewell.