At Their Mercy

Chapter 7: Altars and Hunger

A/N: Got all my finals done, aced them all. Hell yeah. Two months until I have my degree.

Anyhow, I had fun messing with this chapter. Some joking interactions I wrote turned into full scenes that I am now just running with as canon for this story. Erratum is not your therapist.

Enjoy.

Opening the portal into Reapertale, Erratum got the sneaking feeling that they were beginning to get in over their head. Two mortals, chatting with death, provoking Nightmare; they should probably schedule in a lot more time for training and practicing their magic. Erratum pulled up a screen in front of them to make a quick note before dismissing it again as they noticed the embodiment of death approaching.

"Oh good, Nightmare didn't kill ya." Reaper observed as they hovered around the monster a moment before retreating again. "Come this way, the temples aren't too far off from here. Your altar is in the same area." Erratum didn't question this as they followed Reaper through a small stretch of forest and up a stream. Following the stream up revealed a stretch of flat land beyond the trees. Several large temples stood tall along the land, facing away from the large drop of the sheer cliff. It appeared that they were located on a mesa, and the location was quite beautiful. Erratum noticed that in the circle of temples laid another fixture of a smaller proportion. They would have thought it was a statue if not for how it appeared up close.

It was built upon stone, smooth cuts stacked together to form a shrine in the middle of the clearing. A protective canopy-like roof covered the raised platform, held up with similar stone columns. A carved, rather well made if Erratum were vain enough, statue of them depicted kneeling on the ground with their hands clasped together was on the protected platform. Erratum could see that the eyes were made to be closed, and a stream of water running from the corners to the front of its bowed face dripped in a slow rhythm into a bowl below it. As impressive as it all was, so too were the various items on the platform and around the altar itself.

"Yeah, you can see why it's becoming a problem now." Oh yeah, Erratum could see all right.

Wrapped boxes, vases of preserved flowers, rocks (they wouldn't question what people's idea of sacred or valuable was), and that was just scratching the surface. Around the platform itself was gold, quite a bit of gold. So much gold. Erratum felt a little overwhelmed just taking it all in.

"I would apologize but I had no idea this was an issue." Erratum looked over to Reaper and placed a hand on his shoulder. "I appreciate you showing me this. I will move all of this into my realm." They assured him, but they could tell Reaper wasn't exactly listening as he stared at the hand grasping his shoulder. He gave a breath of a laugh before looking back up at Erratum.

"Guess you really are a god after all." Reaper chuckled before bringing a closed fist up to their chest the same way the god had seen Nightmare do. Must be an etiquette thing among gods and spirits. "But yes, moving all this junk would be really helpful." Erratum nodded in understanding before approaching their shrine. They glanced up and around at the temples surrounding the altar.

"There is one for each." They remarked at the seven temples around them. "I am aware a handful of The Guardians shaped this world, so I suppose it shouldn't be a surprise. I wonder if it is possible to contact them through their respective temples?" They mused out loud with an expression of contemplation. That could wait, they decided. Erratum turned back to the altar as a wisp of blue briefly flashed in their vision. They could see now that the statue version of the god had a deep blue stretch of fabric around its shoulders. Erratum carefully removed the article and studied it in their hands. It appeared to be a scarf of some kind, deep blue in colour and soft to the touch. Erratum carefully wrapped it around their neck and felt as if it was always supposed to be there. It felt like a comforting touch to their soul.