Of Brief Histories and Holy Blessings

A/N: Howdy, everyone. Hope you still remember me! It turns out that kinda redesigning a character whose appearance is integral to the arc takes a lot longer than I thought - and not publishing is a dangerous loop to get into. I hope that, if nothing else, the chapters to come make that wait time worth it.

More than a thousand years ago, during the Dark Ages, in Britain, the Lady of the Lake returned - long past the fall of Camelot - to bless a trio of women with great power. This Lady, the almighty goddess Gaia herself, under an old guise, also bestowed upon them three sacred armaments - a shield, a spear, and a sword - artifacts whose divine power was self-evident to anyone who saw them.

With these gifts, “The Lady” charged these women, the original three Wardens of the Golden Rose, with combating the ever-growing darkness of the Abyss and protecting what light remained.

Together, the three unified Abyssal Britain, the rapid growth of their power only matched by that of their legend. Over the years, tens of thousands flocked to their cause, drawn to their divine purpose. Eventually, the Wardens of Sword and Spear would leave Britain with legions of the faithful at their back, on a mission to spread Gaia’s light as far and wide as they could.

At least, that was the storybook telling of the tale.

John sighed heavily, leaning back in his chair as he rubbed faint hints of drowsiness from his eyes. It turned out that trying to flat out read a textbook for information could be sleep-inducing, even if the subject was the history of a guild of magical paladins.

’It shouldn’t even be possible to make this boring…’

Running a hand back through his hair, The Gamer tugged at the collar of his t-shirt, trying to cool himself off a bit. It seemed as though Ela had been correct to hurry them home before the sun had fully risen. He’d managed to reach over and turn the fan on, but he’d been too focused on the book to want to wander out to the front of the house and check the air conditioner.

’Doesn’t make any sense… It was cool all day earlier this week.’ John pulled a water bottle from his inventory, taking a big gulp as he flipped back a few pages to double check a few things.

He’d received the book on Order history right when the Abyss Auction site had said he would, and since then, The Gamer had been trying to power through as much of the basics as he could, hoping to build at least some kind of knowledge base before he returned to meet Moira and her father again. That was going more or less well, depending on the moment he thought about it.

The textbook had opened with a foreword that recounted much of the Order’s founding as they told it, with some author commentary, before the first full chapter moved on to contextualizing that myth with honest historical anecdotes. That part, at least, had been easy enough to get through.

According to the book, that story had been the subject of intense scrutiny and academic debate over the centuries, though by this point, most of the baseline had been established as fact. It was objectively true that the original Wardens had appeared sometime around the ninth century, and there was little debate at this point about Gaia’s involvement.

A thousand years ago, it had been possible to compare the Wardens to others who had been touched by the almighty goddess, confirming without a doubt that they were tied to her. Not anymore. The rest of Her chosen had fallen, either to the endless conflict of the Abyss or the even more inevitable passage of time. These days, only the Wardens remained as a sign of Gaia’s guidance for the world.

John smiled somberly as he remembered the chuckle he’d gotten out of reading that the first time. ’Guess this book is already out of date.’

Taking a quick, second sip of his water, The Gamer returned the bottle to his inventory and moved on to the next section of the book.

The real conversation that the AA’s textbook brought up about the early Order was why Gaia had chosen to give the Wardens their power. None beyond the original trio had ever actually seen the Lady of the Lake or heard her divine mandate. The only first hand records of the meeting at all came from the few writings that those three women had left behind. That gave a lot of room for uncertainty and speculation, both reasonable and unreasonable.

Some believed that the connection to King Arhur’s legend had been entirely fabricated to give the early Order legitimacy, while others went as far as questioning their entire motive as an organization. The book didn’t go into much detail about those, treating them more like fringe theories than real academic considerations.

That didn’t stop John’s mind from wandering off to ponder those questions though.

He didn’t think that the first really mattered to him all that much. All of the Abyss was shrouded in mystery and myth as far as he was concerned - any connection to Arthur might as well just be trivia.

On principle, he understood that the bigger problem would be them lying about such a thing, but that only mattered on two conditions: one, he had to believe that the Order had fabricated the connection in the first place; two, Lord Brighton and the modern Order would have to actually know that it was a lie, rather than simply believing something they’d been taught.

Neither of those were things he had any conceivable way of knowing, which made the whole point moot, for now, at least.

The second theory… was more difficult to parse. Given the general cruelty of the Abyss and the apparent dispassion with which Gaia seemed to watch her creation, it was somewhat understandable that many weren't willing to just believe that she'd given the Wardens such a benevolent purpose.

But that was something he had a more personal perspective on.

A couple days ago, he’d been introduced by Ela to the Abyss and she’d told him about the guild she’d used to be a part of, the Order of the Golden Rose. He hadn't thought too much of it at the time, mostly being concerned about the promise of safety. It wasn’t until she’d nearly died in the ruined world of his dungeon that he’d really understood what they meant to her, when he’d seen the pain in her eyes as she told him about the day her sister had died. They'd both been willing to give their lives, believing in that optimistic vision of what the Order was. One of them had.

John wasn’t sure he had the strength to believe that all the pain his girlfriend had gone through could have been in vain…

’Not that that proves anything about what Gaia intended for them.’ Sighing, he sat up, retrieving his water to distract himself for a second, pressing the cool side of the bottle to his forehead. ’Then again, if they believe it, what’s the difference?’

Scratching the back of his neck, he realized that he was thinking himself in circles with hypotheticals. Deciding he needed a quick break to help regain his focus, John grabbed a napkin from the side of the table, half-heartedly throwing it between the pages as a bookmark before standing up and walking out of the room to stretch his legs for a minute.

The Gamer wandered out into the living room, casting a quick, wistful glance back over to the couch, reminiscing about the morning. Thinking about Ela was almost like a cheat code to fixing his mood, he realized with a smile. He moved over to the couch, sitting down in the same spot he’d been earlier and letting himself sink into the cushions. Exhaling heavily, he tried to push thoughts of the book out of his mind.

’Maybe if I can take a minute and let my perspective reset a little, I can get through a bit more before I have to go,’ John thought, checking his watch. ’Half-hour or so… I can rest my eyes for five.’

Unfortunately, his mind refused to play along, continuously trying to pull him back into his morning research. He had so many scattered thoughts between Ela and the book and his newest quest that he couldn’t quite find the peace he was looking for. The Gamer shook his head - the heat wasn’t helping either.

Finally motivated to get off his butt and check, he headed over to the corner of the living room where the thermostat was, looking to see if something was broken. He tapped the little LED screen, willing it to life and checking the system out. John frowned. Nothing seemed obviously wrong, but the temperature read as moderately cool outside still. That didn’t make any sense to him.

He blinked twice, realization dawning on him. “Ah…”

Willing his inventory open, The Gamer mentally kicked himself for being too focused on reading to remember waking up in the hospital yesterday. The heat was coming from inside. As quickly as he could, John manifested the phoenix egg he’d been entrusted with back into reality, the brilliant orb of sun-kissed oranges appearing just above his outstretched hand.

It was slightly bigger than it had been the previous day, and it seemed to pulse with color, radiating heat as it bobbed gently up and down in front of him.

“You alright, little guy?” John muttered, sitting down on the carpet, cautiously bringing the egg down with him. “Everything OK in there?”

There was no response… since he was talking to an egg.

Slowly raising a second hand, the anxious nerd touched the side of the floating sphere, relieved to find it wasn’t burning him, despite the temperature. A fresh pulse of color spread from the point of contact, liquid fire roiling beneath the surface. John bit his lip, trying to remember anything he could about phoenixes from media.

“I guess maybe being extra hot is a good thing? You’re a flaming bird, right?”

Still an egg. Still nothing.

A quick use of [Observe] still returned the same neutral result as the previous day, with the same comment about it not technically being an egg. The durability was still full, which he took to mean that nothing should be that wrong if it hadn’t taken damage. Which left him with no answers at all.

“Are… are you, like, close to hatching, or something?” he asked curiously, a sudden sense of worry in his stomach. “I am not prepared at all.”

John, you are talking to an egg.

He flushed, exhaling heavily. “I- I’m nervous, alright? I’ve never… done something like this before - never had this kind of responsibility.”

Leaning forward, John looked closely again at the egg, imagining the life that it could become. ’I just want to make sure it’s alright.’

He heard a hum that he hoped was approving.

Here’s a hint: maybe being in your inventory isn’t great for it.

John blinked a few times, considering that. Objects that he stored tended to come out exactly as he put them in - that was the whole reason he was hanging onto a dozen different pastries for Ela. He hadn’t even considered how that would impact something trying to grow.

As carefully as he could, he stood back up, bringing the orb with him. First, he took a quick detour back to the dining room, grabbing a napkin to put up against the side of the sphere. Much like it didn’t burn him, it didn’t seem to spread fire to the paper cloth. Nodding, he brought the egg upstairs to his room, where he dug out an old quilt that his grandma Liz had knit for him when he was a baby.

He took a second to smile at it fondly before wrapping the egg with it, hoping that the thick patches of fabric would keep the re-forming phoenix from getting too cold. Unfortunately, as soon as he did that, The Gamer realized that he needed to be able to see the thing if he wanted to be able to use [Observe] on it to check for changes. With a quick search on his phone, he learned how to swaddle the egg as he would a baby, leaving a window open that he could look through.

Finally, he grabbed an old woven basket that he’d used to go trick-or-treating and egg hunting with, padding the bottom with towels before gingerly nesting the egg among them.

’Alright, now I can keep a closer eye on you.’ He couldn’t suppress a chuckle at the silliness of his handiwork - a glowing miniature sun now sat swaddled in patches of primary-colored dinosaurs. ’Now, if I want to get any more reading done at all, I probably ought to get back to it, but you aren’t leaving my sight again.’

Still smiling, John turned and made his way downstairs, carrying the bundle at his side. Passing the couch, he headed back to the dining room, setting the orb basket down next to the textbook. He pulled the napkin out of the book, pulling it close in front of him and flipping over to a new section.

Reading the chapter header, he sighed, realizing what was next.

It didn't take a PhD in history to get that “spread the Lady's light” was Paladin for “wage war” - and a lot of it, if they'd really spent the last thousand years doing so. It was finally his turn to read about all of it.