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Ch 85 - The Price of Knowing Part 1
🕑 Added 2025-08-09 16:30:43 +0000 UTCA griffin descended into the wide square, its surface paved with a variety of beautiful stones. The placement of those stones was anything but random; together they formed the image of a striking female elf whose silver eyes and white hair managed to remain captivating even in mosaic form. What set her apart, however, what gave her an otherworldly presence, was the wide, gleaming white wings at her back, each feather exuding a regal aura.
The griffin’s long stride gradually slowed, its talons no longer scraping against the stone as it carried the last of its momentum from flight. Its eagle-like head was damp, the sheen of sweat visible even beneath the light, though the eyes remained sharp and energetic, proving that it was full of energy. Still.
As it came to a halt, the beast lowered itself, waiting for its rider to dismount. The figure atop it, clad in heavy, polished silver armor, swung their left leg over and anchored their right foot in the stirrup before stepping down.
The rider’s boots struck the stone with a sharp, metallic clank. Despite what had clearly been a long journey, the griffin’s sweat-streaked feathers were evidence enough, their movements were steady and effortless, every step measured.
“Praise the High Mother of Sylvan,” the rider greeted, addressing an elf approaching the griffin with a slight hunch. The man’s hair, white as fresh snow, was tied back neatly, and a cane supported his slow walk.
“Praise the Goddess,” the elder elf replied, tracing the shape of a half-moon over his chest with a slow sweep of his thumb. “Lady Freya, the Priest awaits you.”
Already moving past him, Freya faltered for half a step at his words before quickening her pace, turning toward the corridor of white lilacs that led to the temple.
She stopped at the temple entrance, stepping to a wooden rack where weapons were hung. From her back, she drew a greatsword, easily more than half her height, and set it carefully against the stall. Her helmet followed, the silver half-moon emblem on its side catching the light coming from the lanterns hanging on the walls before she placed it on the table.
Freya was beautiful. Her long golden hair had been braided through with flowers, lending her a wild yet elegant air. Bright cyan eyes shone with barely contained excitement, their vibrancy all the more striking against the freckles across her nose and cheeks.
Her right hand moved toward the clasp on her shoulder that held her blue cloak, but she stopped herself before touching it. She decided that removing the cloak was unnecessary and quickly stepped into the temple.
The interior was unexpectedly simple.
Rows of wooden benches offered seats to visitors listening to the priest or offering a prayer. The walls were lined with elvish script, each inscription recounting key moments of elven history and the teachings of their Goddess.
Upon entering the temple, Freya’s steps slowed, her eyes drawn to the marble bowl standing at the side of the entrance. A half-moon had been carefully carved into its base, the smooth grooves catching the silver light of the lanterns. Clear, cold water streamed endlessly from the open mouth of a sculpted fish, the gentle sound of its flow echoing faintly through the still air.
She removed her gloves, setting them neatly aside, and extended her bare hands into the cool stream. The water rushed over her skin, crisp and refreshing, chasing away the faint dust and heat left from her journey. She washed her face as well, letting the chill clear her thoughts, before taking the linen towel hanging beside the basin. The fabric was soft and worn, smelling faintly of lavender.
Her heartbeat had begun to quicken. The anticipation coiled in her chest felt sharper now, more urgent. This was no ordinary visit. She had been waiting for this moment for a long time. As a platinum rank and commander of a thousand elves, she had fulfilled the conditions. By ancient custom, that meant she would face her trial - one that might earn her the blessing of the Goddess herself.
The center of the temple was bathed in a muted silver glow coming from the statue of the Goddess - a beautiful elven woman wearing a long dress with wide wings folded on her back. A young elf knelt before the statue, arms raised, whispering words only the Goddess could hear.
“Priest,” Freya called softly, bowing as she approached.
The man didn’t react. His lips moved in a steady rhythm, breathless syllables forming a prayer too faint for her to catch.
Freya’s teeth pressed her lower lip, the flush in her cheeks warming her. She realized she had interrupted. The eagerness that had carried her in now felt clumsy, out of place in this still and sacred space. She stepped aside, lowered her head, and began her own prayer, the words forming slowly in her mind as she tried to quiet the restless energy in her body.
When praying, she felt that her connection with the Goddess was strengthened.
…
“Freya.”
The voice pulled her from her thoughts. She blinked, realizing she had been so deep in her prayer that she hadn’t noticed the priest had finished and had been waiting for her.
“Praise the High Mother of Sylvan,” she murmured, the embarrassment in her tone matched by the faint pink on her cheeks as she traced the half-moon over her chest.
The Priest didn’t return the greeting, but his young face brightened as a gentle, genuine smile curved his lips.
“I know your patience wears thin,” he said, extending his hand toward her, “thus I shall tell you this without delay - the High Mother has set a quest before you.”
He waited for her to guide him toward the inner garden. His eyes remained shut, the lids closed not by weakness but by choice. He had given up his sight willingly, believing that once one had seen the Goddess in her true form, no other vision was worthy to behold.
Freya clasped his extended hand, her grip firm. Perhaps too firm. The priest stumbled forward, his slight frame bending under the unexpected strength of the elven knight.
“Freya, go easy on me,” he chuckled, the amusement in his tone lightening the air between them.
“My apologies,” she said quickly, glancing away in embarrassment as though to avoid the eyes she knew would never open again.
Freya guided the priest with as much care as she could manage, her pace measured, her hand steady on his arm. She tried to keep a perfect distance, matching his steps, but her thoughts refused to stay still. No matter how she slowed her breathing or adjusted her stride, her mind remained fixed on the quest she was about to receive. And frankly, who could blame her? She had been working hard for that exact reason her entire life.
“Freya, have you heard about Gwendrin’s mission yet?” the priest asked, his voice breaking the quiet as they passed beneath the temple arch and stepped into the garden. The air was rich with the mingled scents of flowers and damp earth. Trees stretched their branches overhead, their leaves stirring faintly in the breeze, while beds of blossoms formed careful arrangements along the stone paths.
“No. I came here as soon as I returned,” she replied, her gaze drifting briefly to the rows of white lilacs in bloom. Almost without thinking, she plucked one and turned it between her fingers. She had always loved flowers. Enough to spend hours weaving them into her hair when time allowed.
“I’ll spare you the details. You’ll read the full report later regardless,” the priest continued. “But we’ve learned that it’s not only beasts disappearing near the lake, humans are vanishing as well. In those villages the High Mother allowed to settle by the shore, children have gone missing. Only children.”
As he spoke, the brightness in his expression faded. His long ears, normally lifted in poise, dipped slightly, the angle betraying his unease.
“Unfortunately, we don’t yet understand what’s happening. The humans have even hired hunters… those dangerous ones who track not only the strongest beasts and monsters, but sometimes even our own kin…” His mouth tightened, the words coming with a faint edge. “I can’t recall what they call themselves, but they are far worse than mercenaries, creatures who abandoned their race and sell themselves for gold.”
Freya listened in silence, her mind circling around the same questions. Why send her, a Platinum Rank knight, to investigate this? The humans had already hired hunters. However despicable they might’ve been, there was no doubt that they were professionals. And more puzzling still - why was the Goddess so intent on aiding humans at all?
“You shall go there alone, Freya,” the priest said at last, his tone getting firmer. “This will be your trial. Prove yourself by uncovering what, or who, is taking these creatures. But remember…” His head inclined slightly, as though the words were weighted. “You must not harm the human settlements within our territory. That is the will of the Goddess.”
…
I couldn’t tell how long it took for me to come to my senses. But when I woke up, my head throbbed with a heavy ache. Yet, that was the least of my concerns.
Just before the memory ended, a memory that left me more disappointed than enlightened, I’d heard a voice, calm yet weirdly domineering: ‘You shall learn more as you grow stronger.’
Ah… shit… are gods supposed to feel this much pain?
The pressure in my skull surged instead of fading. It built fast, a vicious pulse that made me want to slam my head against something solid just to force it to stop. My vision swam, the edges darkening, shapes losing definition. Then, suddenly, the pain was gone. So quickly, in fact, that for a heartbeat I didn’t believe it had ended at all.
However, the blue flash of the system notification helped me.
~[Goddess’ Memories]
When storing her memories, the Goddess of Elves paid a heavy price to alter them. All her memories (from the Memory Stone) have been inherited, but access is restricted. Specific fragments will only unlock once the required conditions are met.~
What the hell? So I might just black out anytime because I happen to meet some hidden condition? No. Forget that. I don’t want this. Guidance, can I unlock all the memories at once? Or better yet, can I erase them entirely?
In that moment, anger drowned out everything else. The memory of that searing pain still clouded my judgment, and the thought that Guidance had conveniently omitted how the memory stone actually worked only made it worse.
~[Guidance Advanced Tier Feature Triggered – 10 Divinity Points]
Memories already within the mind cannot be erased, but as a god, it is possible to alter thought and isolate what is chosen to be forgotten.
The seal placed by the Goddess of Elves may also be removed. Cost: 1000 Divinity Points.
The cost of the advanced tier feature has increased from 2 to 10 Divinity Points due to the effectiveness of the guidance provided.~
Hah. The system took 10 Divinity Points and even complimented itself… That’s robbery on another level!
My anger dulled as the irony of the moment hit me, and I forced myself to think clearly. One thing was certain - while the Goddess’s memories were undeniably valuable, even the one I had just seen had opened a possibility I hadn’t considered before - I couldn’t risk blacking out just because I had triggered some hidden condition and was being “rewarded” with the next fragment.
I’ll isolate these memories first… then I’ll turn my focus back to the tribe and its development. The way Goddess was influencing her people by issuing quests means that even powerful Gods are involved in their believers’ lives.
But first, I had to solve the issue I was facing. On the bright side, isolating the memories didn’t mean erasure. Instead of a permanent seal, I would create a temporary barrier - one I could remove at will and restore again afterward. That way, I could still access any future memories when the time came, but I wouldn’t be overwhelmed by them in the middle of something that demanded my full attention… or my survival.
It would be tedious work, searching out each fragment and locking it away, but it was worth the effort. Perhaps I’d even learn more about the structure of my own mind, and, in the process, sharpen my ability to control divine power.
With that thought, I turned my full attention inward, focusing on the memories, letting myself sink completely into the task.
