Creation Myths

William, Oliver and Thorvenhold sat in William's cabin. William had Kitty break out their finest ale in honour of their new shipmate. The crew, however, were understandably uneasy at the Raganar's presence on the ship. Oliver shared their concerns while William and Thorvenhold were deep into their cups he had held back, he had excused himself by claiming he was still weary from the night before. There was something about the situation that was still unreal, considering he was sat at a table with a dead man.

William was recounting to Thorvenhold how he had issued the Holmgang challenge to Ormskirk and bested his champion. Thorvenhold slammed his tankard down onto the table, laughing heartily.

"You are either very brave, William or incredibly fucking stupid." Thorvenhold laughed.

"I think both. I honestly still don't know what came over me. I can't even remember the last time I was in a fight like that. Boarders on a ship is one thing, but a duel?" William replied.

"Ormskirk. He was always a lickspittle. How he rose to Jarl, I'll never understand." Thorvenold mused.

William noticed Oliver's silence and how he was staring at Thorvenhold.

"Something bothers you, doesn't it?" William asked.

Oliver took a moment before he answered, as if taking a moment.

"I'm sharing a table with a dead man, Master Kent," Oliver said, almost shouting.

"I was told to seek out my friend," William answered.

"I don't recall that portent advising to upset the natural order of things," Oliver complained.

"And with strange aeons even death may die," Thorvenhold said to the pair of them.

"That is familiar," Oliver responded.

"A line I once read in a poem. As stange is it may sound I am in agreement with the boy. I'm grateful for what you have done, William, but I died. Edward shot me, fatally, when we tried to escape. There surely will be a price to pay for what you have done." Thorvenhold said to William.

"There will be a reckoning for many of the things we did. Perhaps Ravenhill is the price we are paying already." William told him.

"There is something I want to know. The thing which started all of this. Which you would not speak of in Restan's office. What is the Logos, William?" Oliver asked.

Thorvenhold and William exchanged glances. William simply sighed as if the weariness of the past twenty years was finally catching up with him.

"Most cultures share similar creation myths. At first there was nothingness and then simply a word, which shaped creation. The world was given shape and form by some almighty being that imposed order on the chaos." Thorvenhold began recounting.

"You're talking about the religion of the Archons. Yod spoke the first word which gave birth to the cosmos. He created the Archons to fulfil his will and for them to give form to his designs. After which he slept," Oliver explained.

"His designs?" William commented.

"You mean the schism between the Ithican and Mercied faiths? Oliver replied.

"This is why we killed our gods. They served nobody but themselves. Used us like pawns." Thorvenhold interjected.

"I note you didn't answer my question." Oliver pointed out.

"The Logos is an echo of creation," Thorvenhold answered.

"What?" Oliver replied almost slack-jawed.

"Johannes discovered its resting place. We had help in finding where it was." William advised.

"I want to know more about this expedition," Oliver stated.

"Very well," William replied, sounding reluctant.

"I joined later and wasn't there at the start," Thorvenhold told them.

"I thought you were the navigator?" Oliver asked.

"I was brought on as muscle. Johannes might have been a man of learning, he was still aware his undertaking was dangerous and needed protection. The navigator was later." Thorvenhold said.

"Johannes Chatham was at the time one of the foremost scholars on the Archons. He had studied archaic documents, lost texts, writings which the church had banned. Johannes came to one conclusion the Archons were very much real. They weren't just guiding principles and ideals to which we prayed, but real living beings." William explained in a serious tone.

"I have studied the Archons my entire life. But this is not what I was expecting." Oliver responded.

"Johannes believed he had found the location of the Golden Hall of Penemue." William continued.

"The Archon of knowledge and writing?" Oliver said mostly rhetorically.

"That is what he believed at first. He was mistaken, but what we found led us to the Logos." William told him.

"How does Ravenhill come into this?" Oliver asked.

"Edward was Johannes' first recruit. Edward was one of the finest surgeons in Ithica. A keen mind and devoted follower of the Archons. Through Edward and Johannes's connections, they secured backing through the Ithican Papacy to fund their expedition. Without their involvement, they would never have got me as their Helmsman."

"How did they recruit you?" Oliver queried.

"Twenty years ago I was a drunk. I had been married, and we were expecting. Some illness took my child only a few weeks after she was born. She hadn't even been baptised. My wife hung herself a month later. Sh"

"I'm sorry to hear that, William," Oliver said comfortingly.

"Old wounds. Johannes said that if I joined their expedition, he could speak with the Papacy and they would declare that my child had been baptised and granted a place in the afterlife. I agreed."

"What do you remember from when we found it?" Thorvenhold was looking at William.

"I remember Ravehill opening the box and then a sound like nothing I had ever heard before. A million throated susurrus. A choir of discordant voices, and then I heard one voice clearer than any other my daughter's voice. She told me to run. I wrestled the box from Ravenhill, and then whatever madness had taken him compelled him to shoot you." William recounted.

"What happened to Johannes?" Thorvenhold asked.

"I lost track of him in the chaos that erupted. I always assumed that Ravenhill killed him or worse." William replied.

"Where is the Logos?" Oliver asked.

There was an embarrassed look on William's face. "I don't know."

"It's more than that, isn't it, William," Thorvenhold added.

As he asked this, Thorvenhold stared at William in a way that he already knew the answer he was about to give.

"Aye. There is a hole in my mind when I try and recall what happened to it." William answered.

"There is only one way you could have achieved that," Thorvenhold added.

"Umthakathi", William said enigmatically.

"I don't understand which is becoming fairly common." Oliver joked.

"Grey witches. Descended from giants who slept with women in a time before the flood." Thorvenhold.

"So what do you intend to do next? Oliver asked.

"I need Johannes' journals. I think he had copies in his home in Tabakkust. Abigail might have them." William explained.

"Abigail?"

"Johannes' daughter. The last time I saw her, she was eight. I doubt this will be a happy reunion." William said, sounding distraught.

"And then?" Thorvenhold stared at William.

"North. But we cannot simply sail to the Umthakathi's island. It's protected." William told them.

"Surely it is simply guarded? Diplomacy can work wonders, William." Oliver suggested, sounding optimistic.

William laughed at Oliver's suggestion. Oliver realised he was simply laughing at his naivety and did not feel chided.

"Their island is hidden. Only those who are invited or have a means of discovering it can approach the place. However, that is not a concern for now." William advised.

Oliver did not quite understand but decided he had learned enough of the mysteries of the world for one day it was time to turn in. They were still harboured in Løvenskiold and would make sail for Tabakkust in the morning. Oliver left the two of them to their drinking and reminiscences.