Chapter 160: Destination
Chapter 160: Destination
"That is the nearest stable exit point I can create in the direction of the disturbance," Hestia said.
Rohan looked at her sharply.
"Nearest?"
"Yes."
"How near?"
"By mortal standards?"
"That question already scares me."
"Very far."
Rohan closed his eyes for a moment.
"Right. Of course. Why would anything be easy?"
"The portal will place you in the Ashen Marches," Hestia continued. "A borderland region between several territories on the closest planet, in the closest Star System, to my realm. It is unstable, sparsely inhabited, and dangerous."
Rohan opened his eyes.
"You’re really selling it."
"It is also one of the few places where an outsider appearing without lineage, faction, or registered origin will not immediately draw divine attention."
That shut him up.
Rohan had completely forgotten by this point that there were other gods in this universe besides Hestia, who might not take as much of a liking towards him as she did.
Hestia continued. "The stronger powers of this universe watch the central worlds closely. They watch cities, temples, gates, academies, battlefields, and holy sites. The Ashen Marches are neglected because little of value remains there."
"Except, possibly, the direction I need to go."
"Possibly."
Rohan stared through the portal again.
The plain beyond looked dead.
Still, dead was better than watched by gods.
Probably.
"What am I looking for?" he asked. "I mean, besides the vague cosmic wrongness."
"Resonance," Hestia said. "The overlap will leave contradictions behind. Places where laws do not behave as they should, or in this case, laws that resemble those of your own universe, rather than this one. Ruins that do not match their history. Objects that contain more than one origin. People who remember things that never happened. Creatures altered by contact with something beyond this universe — these should be the easiest to find, as they would feel remarkably similar to yourself and will give you a strong feeling of Deja Vu should you be near one."
Rohan’s expression darkened slightly.
"That sounds like it could describe a lot of things."
"It could."
"Again, not helping."
Hestia turned her palm upward once more.
A small object appeared above it.
At first, Rohan thought it was a coin. Then Hestia placed it in his hand, and he realised it was thinner than that — a small circular token made from warm white stone, with a flame-like symbol carved into its surface.
The moment it touched his palm, the warmth in his chest answered.
"What is this?"
"A mark of my hearth."
Rohan looked up warily.
"That sounds important."
"It is."
"Dangerous?"
"To you, less than most things."
"That is not a no."
"It will allow you to return to the edge of my sanctuary if you are near death or if the translated status within you begins to collapse."
’...’
’This thing isn’t even stable...?’
Rohan’s fingers closed around the token.
His throat tightened slightly.
"How many times?"
"Once."
Of course.
Rohan still held it carefully.
"And after that?"
"After that, you must not waste the first time."
He gave her a flat look.
"Can’t you just give me more than one?"
Hestia gave him a sly look. "This isn’t just some special object I’ve picked up from the ground. Each one of these takes immense amount of effort to create — even for me — due to this realm’s sealed off nature from the rest of the Greater Universe. It’s already a miracle you made it in here intact thanks to the passage between universes, it’s an even greater one that I still had one of these things laying around. You are the first visitor I’ve had in millennia, after all."
The smallest glimmer returned to Hestia’s eyes.
Then it faded, and she continued her explanation.
"There are limits," she said. "The token will not save you from instant death. It will not activate if you are sealed by a power greater than what I have placed in it. It will not cross certain divine domains, so avoid placing yourself near other Gods at all cost. And if you deliberately throw yourself into danger assuming it will rescue you, you will likely die disappointed."
Rohan nodded slowly.
"I understand."
"Do you?"
He met her gaze.
This time, he did not answer immediately.
Then he said, "I understand enough."
Hestia inclined her head.
"Good."
Rohan slipped the token into the inside pocket of his clothes, then paused.
His clothes were still the same ones he had arrived in. Damaged, dirty in places, and thoroughly inadequate for venturing across an alien universe filled with gods, monsters, and cosmic abnormalities.
Hestia seemed to notice his thoughts.
With a small motion of her hand, pale fire washed over him.
Rohan flinched, but the flame did not burn. It passed across his body like warm water, and his clothes changed beneath it. The fabric thickened and darkened, becoming layered travelling garments reinforced at the shoulders, forearms, chest, and knees. A cloak settled over his back, ash-grey on the outside and warm on the inside. Simple boots formed around his feet, fitted perfectly.
Rohan stared down at himself.
Then he looked up.
"Okay. That one I’m not going to complain about."
He moved his arms experimentally. The clothing did not restrict him. If anything, it felt better than anything he had worn in either world. ’As expected of something gifted by a Goddess.’
Then Hestia extended her hand again.
This time, a spear appeared.
Rohan’s eyes sharpened.
This was not something he was expecting. Hestia restoring his strength also restored his ability to conjure both his Horned Rabbit Spear and his Molten-stone Skin, so this was entirely new for him.
It was plain. Almost disappointingly so at first glance. A dark wooden shaft. A simple steel head. No glowing runes or anything like that. No divine flames, or even ornate carvings.
It looked like any old ordinary spear.
But when Hestia offered it to him, and Rohan wrapped his hand around the shaft, he felt the balance immediately. It was perfect, better than anything he’d ever held before.
Not magical, or at least not overtly. But then again, considering who it originated from, this could house any number of extraordinary things.