The Icy Hand of Fate

 The ARPD, that is Atlanta's Rest Police Department as if you probably couldn't guess, was on the opposite side of town. I had to hitch a ride in a police craft, mainly because my superb find was now totaled. And, yes. I had to sit in the back where the doors only unlock from the outside. A young police officer named Lester Burapeg, wouldn't stop talking on the way there. As if, I was in the mood for that after what had happened.

 When we finally reached the other side of town, I was only too eager to leave the craft. I got a good gander at the building. It was much more sturdier than the houses from my side of town. It was built of stone and had a simple design that was befitting something from before the Fifth War. As a matter-of-fact, the ARFD and mayoral office were right next to it. I don't know whose idea that was, probably Forrest DeWalt's, but; it was genius. Especially, for Benny, who was not only the mayor but also the chief of police and chief of the fire department. Though, his duties kept him from it.

 Benny sending me to the station was more like he wished that I could be interrogated for the explosion of my house. I knew he didn't believe me. But, maybe I would have better chances with this Silas person.

 As I got out of the craft, Lester said, "I'll be back for you later. The mayor will have to figure out what to do with you."

 Thanks, make me feel like an unwanted burden. I said to myself, not daring to say it aloud. Instead, I walked up to the police department and started to open the door. A sudden wave of dread overcame me once more. Something, about this place, irked me. Something. Lately, that anxiety just wouldn't go away. It was almost as if eyes were on me. Ever watching.

 I gulped down my fear. If I walked through life afraid of my own shadow, I would never amount to anything. I told myself time and again over the course of my life. I grabbed the handle of the door and pried it open with probably more force than I needed.

 The dread didn't bother me as much as I thought it would, not so much as the cold did. It was completely dark outside. I didn't like the dark. And, cold. Not since, well let's just say I didn't like the dark.

 I rushed inside. Thank goodness it was warm.

 It was dark inside. I mean, really dark. What lights did scatter the lobby was very dim. As I scanned the room for anyone, it appeared barren and lifeless, until I realized slumped down over a tall desk by the far wall was a young woman, about forty. I walked up.

 Clerks were police, but not. They didn't have the training to respond to any calls. So, what they did was direct people around the station and make them fill out mounds of paper. Jokes about the late twentieth century said the Department of Motor Vehicles was no different.

 This particular clerk didn't even react to me. I got a better look at her. Her hair was the most ginger I'd seen in a while, on a human. She had green eyes that looked as though they were focused on something beyond what was in front of her. The only reason, I could tell she was in her forties was the wrinkles beginning to form around her eyes and lips. 

 The plaque in front of her read:

 Capt. Gina Hester-Gold

 Admissions and Inquiries

 "Excuse me," I whispered, afraid that if I spoke too loudly, she would jump, "I'm here to see Detective Dartmouth." Gina just pointed down the hall without even looking up. I guess I have to find my own way. "Thanks, I guess." I followed her finger down a hall, hoping that someone would come out of one of the side doors and beckon me in. At first, there was nothing. No one. And then, a hand. A solitary nine-fingered hand waving out of a door at the far end of the hallway.

 I walked up to the hand and as I turned the corner into the alcove, I immediately wanted to puke. I held it back, desperately. There stood a Sung'mallyan, bluer than blue. Its snail shell had swirls on it that looked very much like the aurora borealis. I had no idea that the police hired Sung'mallyans. My aversion to Sung'mallyans mainly came from the slime and the smell of fish. Although, the really elderly ones reminded me of a prune.

 "Hello there, miss." Sung'mallyans were the hardest to tell gender; however, this one was most definitely female. Her voice gave her away.

 "Excuse me?" I asked, carefully. "Benny sent me here to see Silas."

 "Benny?" She asked. I didn't know if she really didn't know or she was just teasing me.

 "Mayor Goodyear, ma'am." I stressed the last word. "I would like to see Silas now, please."

 Suddenly, she clicked in disapproval. "Now, miss, there is no need to get worked up. Just because Gina can do nothing except sit behind a desk giving our guests a hard time rather than do her actual job, we needn't be so anxious." Then, she added, "I'm Detective Uthmallyn'Hina Ryn, Silas' partner." She turned and began slithering down the hall. "Come this way. Oh, and do watch the slime." So far, every Sung'mallyan I've met denied their trail; but, for some reason, I was beginning to like this one. "What's your name, dear?"

 "Mara Windmire." She caught me off guard. "I'm surprised that you didn't already know my name. I heard that all Sung'mallyans were seers."

 Hina laughed. Oh boy, did she. "Like human seers, Sung'mallyans are no more predisposed to the prophetic ability than your race is." Then, she added, "I see you met Ghath'Raejadd."

 "You see, that's the reason that humans think these things about you."

 "Raejadd is the only seer in this region. So, I knew that you ran into him if you thought that I would know your name, also." She laughed again. "At one time, all the younglings wanted to chase after him."

 "Him?" Now, I wanted to laugh. We passed a couple of rooms and I began to wonder just how far she intended to take me. Not that, at the moment, she was inclined to answer.

 "He was much different, three hundred years ago." Then, she added, "Besides, my grandfather has about nine thousand children and eighty-seven wives. And, that's considered quite small for Sung'mallyans."

 "Are you done boring Miss Windmire, Hina?" A gruff voice asked from just ahead of us.

 I looked up to see this bright orange Amali, his green eyes and hair reminded me of a talking carrot. He stood there with his arms folded against his chest and a very stern look about his face.

 He turned to me and said most politely, "Detective Dartmouth will see you now." He motioned to the open doorway.

 As I walked passed the Amali, it read:

 Interview Room 3

 I could feel eyes at my back. Almost as if he was staring at me. I tried to brush the feeling away as my paranoia. After all, I just had my house blow up in my face and lived to tell about it. While I didn't want to be there and had such an unending wrenching in my gut, I knew that if I wanted answers, I had to go there. So, despite that nagging, I entered the room.

 I heard Hina say from the hall, "Abryi, you're such a letch." I could hear a playful sing-song in her voice, as if she was accustom to teasing him. Perhaps, it was his eyes that I felt.

 The Amali were something to look at. They were much like humans. They had two eyes and ears, varied by color, and were some of the most diverse individuals on Earth. They had eight fingers and eleven toes. While their red, orange, or yellow skin and tall stature was nothing beyond what I had come to expect from otherworlders, their sense of fashion made me question everything I'd ever known about it. Amali men and women wore their hair long. Both males and females had tendrils that grew from their faces, though the women only had them on the sides of their faces. But, the most unique thing I'd ever seen from them was the bands and plates of metal that were wrapped around the tendrils or literally screwed into their bodies. They wore mail like it was cloth and tended to pierce anything that dangled, including other piercings. Other than that, considering, they were pretty normal.

 The room was decorated with red candles throughout, on every ledge, and across the table in the center. All of them on fire, casting a warm glow. Abryi and Hina followed me in, continuing to argue a bit, in hushed speak, until something moved and they fell quieter than a choked rat. That something moved again. The candlelight made it hard to see what it was. I stood frozen in the entrance, eyes locked on the creature dancing to the sound of some phantasmal percussion. The dim light made it look bigger than it actually was, casting a shadow more than nine feet tall. It was covered in fur and had two horns protruding from the front of its skull, very much like the demons in the renaissance depiction of Christian mythos.

 The room looked like an altar. An altar to whom I knew not yet. But, the telltale signs were there. Incense, oils, large strange glyphs on the walls arranged in a circle. The creature danced and prayed, making some very odd gestures.

 Suddenly, the creature turned abruptly towards us, noticing our presence, as if it hadn't before with Hina and Abryi arguing. It cocked its head from one side and then to the other as if trying to decipher us in some strange recognition ritual. It pointed to the table in the center of the room.

 I carefully made my way into the room and sat down at the only table in the room, scared beyond any words. I didn't know what to make of this creature.

 It swiftly made the distance between the ledges at the front of the room to the center in a matter of milliseconds. "'ello, Miss Windmire. Raejadd said you would be coming." The creature said as he removed his head. Beneath the fur laden mask was a strange little man that I had never had the chance to meet before. He looked very, how do I put this delicately, British. Dark mud-colored eyes, reddish brown curly locks, a perfect gap between his front two teeth, pasty, and black round glasses making him look like a very out of place cross between Elton John and Henry Jekyll. "The mayor radioed not too long ago, saying he sent you this way." He sounded very affected. "You can call me Silas. Silas Dartmouth." He sat down on the corner of the desk, placing the mask down in front of me, as if I wanted to look at that thing. He began his interrogation.

 I started with what Raejadd had told me at Nesmith's, continued with the detour I took dropping Zazan home, and ended with the explosion of my house. It was a very short story. I knew there were no leads to be gotten from it and it was very hard to take seriously. When I finished, Silas just sat there.

 He pulled out a pipe and packed some tobacco into it, lighting it with a flair. He reminded me of every story I had ever read as a child, a very Victorian Sherlock Holmes. "So, what you are saying here is that you do not have the faintest idea who could have set your house to explode and that the only lead we have to do on is the voice of Talanys?"

 I nodded.

 "I would like to introduce you to some important people here." His formality and quickness to change the subject only spoke volumes of what more there was running through those wheels in his head. "This is His Majesty, Abryi lez Rayne, the Emperor of the Amalyan Empire." The Amalya bowed. "And, this is Uthmallyn'Hina Ryn, his personal secretary." He waited a moment while I took in everything. "I believe you have already had the pleasure of their acquaintance?"

 I nodded. Again. Still too shocked to say anything right away. I needn't say much however, his eyes caught my glimpses at the mask.

 "You want to know about this thing?" He pointed to it, allowing a smile to creep across his face, very slowly, eerily, and deliberately.

 I nodded a third time. Immediately, I knew I agreed to the wrong question. My curiosity, however didn't care.

 "Good. Because there is one other person I need to introduce you to. He has made it very clear that he wanted to explain a few things to you. Somehow, he knew of what was about to happen to your house and if we had managed to make contact with you earlier, perhaps we would not be in this current state, right?" I could tell he wanted to chuckle but, he kept it in. He waved his hand towards the setup at the ledge behind him. "This is an altar to Atlanta's Rest's local deity. He who is the son of Galadyn the Gallant and Esperyn the Serpent. The father of Sorem the Wise. He who has guaranteed the prosperity of Atlanta's Rest since the Sixth War. The Holy One, Nesbeth." He definitely was one for theatrics. "She's ready for you, milord." Silas said to the corner of the room. But, there was no one there.

 Suddenly, there was a loud crack and boom of thunder like a whip being struck against stone. The candles flickered and the flames bent but, not one extinguished. The fire intensified as something emerged from the shadows, shrouded in darkness even with the light upon its visage. All I could make out was a large humanoid with long curved horns, with rings forming ridges down the length, protruding upon his head like a ram, and beneath a mop of Catawba, steel, and automaton red a face like a horse, lion, and serpent had a child. Its eyes were the kind of blue-silver old women dyed their hair. I was waiting for a forked tail and moth-eaten wings to follow. But, none came.

 The voice reverberated through the room and probably the entire building, "Mara."

 Despite how deep it was, I recognized that voice. It was all too familiar. But, that seemed too impossible. After all, he would be sleeping right now and that old man couldn't possibly be some sort of being summoned by candles.

 "Mara." The voice repeated. "I am Nesbeth, Lord of the Shallows, giver of prosperity and livelihood."

 "Mister Nesmith?" I said, shakily and unsure, half hoping I was wrong. There was something too convenient about his being a god. It would have been like saying Benny was the god of drunkenness, Dionysius. There was no way Silas faked this. None.

 The lights throughout the police headquarters flickered and brightened until I could see the very form of everyone else in the room. There was no mistaking what I saw. There before me stood a being more than eight feet tall with a horse's brown face, yet gruffer and more gaunt with a purplish-red mane. Horns of ebony bone curled up over his head, adding to his height even more. His presence was ominous and intimidating. Yet, in his eyes, I could see something so gentle and familiar. 

 Suddenly, the giant reverted into a smaller form that was only too familiar and almost sent my mind running through loops. The form before me was something I had known for all my life. I stood there in disbelief. I worked for a god.

 "Mara." The voice said for the third time, this time much quieter and familiar to what I've remembered. "My child."

 I cracked. I began to laugh, a slow and awkward laugh. "I should have seen this coming. Today, couldn't have possibly been something normal." My laughter became more frabjous. "I want to ask only, why Mister Nesmith? If that is even your real name." I became emboldened by my madness.

 Mister Nesmith smiled. "Child, you have been warned by Talanys for good reason. A god has targeted you. Even I know not why." He paused. "I have watched over you for many years because of a promise I made your father. And yes, child, you are correct. My true name is Nesbeth." He paused a second time, almost as if he knew I needed time to process. "You need not wonder why I picked you. You are not the first nor will you be the last. For as long as the Great Ones slumber, ones with such potential such as yours will be chosen by we, Minor Ones, to uphold the stability of the multiverse." Then, he added, "Yes, I can hear your thoughts."

 Nothing was sacred.

 Nesbeth continued, not that he was inclined to let anyone else interject into why he showed himself before me. "Mara, you have been chosen for a specific task. But, before I can begin with that, let me first enlighten you." He paused a moment. He understood the feebleness of the human mind, nothing sank into it immediately, as such was the shortcoming of our mortality. "Beyond you, into the void, exists forces that you cannot begin to comprehend, yet. We, Minor Ones, are a product of these forces." He paused again.

 I was in for a history lesson.

 "Let me explain that which begat me. Long ago, before time was time and the heavenly bodies called planets and stars existed, there were the Great Ones. During the Shaping, they fought for who would become their ruler, for each had their own agenda. It was during this time everything was created, not by love but borne of power and destruction. Yes, we too. Marthukas the Somber emerged victorious. Perhaps you know him by another. Marduk, Zeus, Yahweh, whatever his name, his glory reached the heavens. But, his power was to be feared." He paused once more. "Long ago, my brother, Gilgahlad sealed the Great Ones in the void. Many eons ago. Now, that seal is weakening. The time of the Great Ones is almost at hand. If they awaken, all that you know shall cease to exist. Everything."

 "Lord Nesbeth," Silas began, seemingly unnerved by the appearance of a shapeshifting person, "what is it we should do to appease the god that seeks Mara?"

 "Yog Thalthos is not one to be appeased." Abryi said. Hina just nodded.

 "So, I am to reseal the Great Ones?" I asked, quite confused. I understood what Nesbeth was trying to say. Some mythos of a forlorn and forgone era was going to reemerge. I just couldn't comprehend my role in it.

 "Not exactly. In time your role will become clear. That is why you are going to take Mara to Haddock. There is much for her to learn before she can come to face with Yog Thalthos. There is much to do and very little time left." Then, he turned to Silas. "Yes, child you can tell her more about yourselves. I will leave that to you. In time, she will come to understand all. Only then can she make the choice she has to make." And then, with no warning, he vanished.

 Just like my house, my mind exploded. Choice? No one said anything about choices. Here this god says I have a choice to make and yet somehow, I feel there is anything but one. More like, it was whether or not I would accept my destiny. What Nesbeth wants will happen no matter what. Isn't that the nature of gods?

 "Mara." Silas' voice sounded as though he had been calling my name a while. "Mara." He repeated. "Are you listening?"

 I snapped back into the real world, away from the meandering of my thoughts. I wanted to tell Silas that I had heard him just fine. But, I didn't lie. No matter what. "No. I wasn't."

 "Alright, I'll start back at the beginning." He sighed, not very befitting of an English gentleman. Not that England or any of the twenty-first century countries still existed. As a matter-of-fact… No, I'll get into that later. "We are a small sect of worshipers called The Hidden Followers of the Faceless Gods. As you can see, they are all but faceless, save Talanys." He stopped a moment to see if I was taking everything in. "I am not asking for you to join us. On the contrary, that decision has been made for you. In a way. My task is to ready you." Then, he continued to drone on about these gods.