The gods of Nevre: The Jester – After

The Jester and Simisola met up every once in a while. When fate and destiny intertwined strongly they were both drawn to the place where it was being woven. Today was one such day.

Standing in front of a few people who didn’t know who he was The Jester was starting to tell a story of the famed and doomed adventure to what the adventuring party called “The Below” as he was doing so, however, he saw a change in the wind.

“So the band of mary adventurers set out, and the weather was…the wind is changing. I’m sorry. I must go.” The Jester bowed apologetically and popped out of existence in front of them, leaving the people amazed.

“Wait, was that The Jester?”

“The god of destiny and wishes? Why would he randomly tell us a story then?”

“Didn’t you know? He was known as The Bard for a short time. He loves a good story.”

– – –

Simisola stood on the rise of a hill, watching a spot to the east when The Jester appeared next to her. “Took you a while. Were you in the middle of something?”

“I was telling a story. Sorry.” The Jester turned to face where she was looking. “I’m still not late.”

“You two, as predictable as the tide.” Stigr appeared on the opposite side of Simisola. “I only need know the time of a fateful encounter and a clear place nearby and the two of you will be there.”

“Always. I will also always be anywhere that a kind word can heal.” Simisola turned to Stigr. “I believe that this will be the first time, for you, that I tell you that it wasn’t your fault. Nobody could’ve known what was going to happen.”

“It is. I can tell by the way you say it that you’ve said it a lot.” Stigr pointed back to the spot they had gathered to see. “It happens there. The first visit from those outside this realm.”

On the windswept plains, a lone salaman journeyed southward. Suddenly, in front of him, something not quite like an elf appeared. This caused the salaman to fall backward, barely catching himself by contorting his body.

“Well, I’ve seen it. Now I’m off.” Stigr strode forward a few steps and disappeared.

The Jester sighed. “Always in a hurry and yet he can be anywhere at any time he chooses.”

Nodding Simisola pointed at the woman talking to the salaman. “So, she’s not an elf. What do you think she is?”

The Jester said a few words under his breath. “I have no name to go by. Without that, I can’t know anything.”

The woman seemed to stare in their direction, then she pointed directly at them.

“Well, maybe I can ask her.” The Jester took a few steps backward as the elf-like woman appeared right in front of where he was standing.

“Ah, you are this realm’s gods?”

“We are but two of them.”

“And you are all human?”

“I suspect only for now. There are other ways to godhood, but the accident is the only one that brought godhood to this realm.” The Jester recounted the story of the explosion in the prince’s castle.

“That is an interesting story. I’m Gormaliev, you may refer to me as The Calculating since you seem to like titles here.”

Simisola offered a hand to Gormaliev to shake. “Pleased to meet you. I am Simisola. I go by the titles The Healer and The Kindness. This here is The Jester. He has not seen fit to share his real name with anyone in or out of the pantheon.”

The Jester bowed deeply. “I am the god of the journey toward destiny and wishes. Simisola is the goddess of healing, kindness, and the fruition of destiny. Our destinies are intertwined in these duties. Nice to meet you, Gormaliev.”

“Yes, the wits of a jester. If you don’t mind I’m going to set this salaman on the path to godhood through a different means. Less death this way.”

Whispers barely audible to Simisola escaped The Jester’s mouth. “Gormaliev, The Calculating.” The Jester’s eyes rolled back in his head for a moment before he began speaking at a normal volume. “Ah, yes. Do that. I believe that we must have more balance in this realm. I will use what I learned to send people on that path.”

Gormaliev stared at The Jester for a long moment. “Well, I suppose one who sets people on the path to their destiny needs to know something about them. Where did you learn that trick?”

“From The Scholar. Irfan is known for telling lies almost as often as the truth, but he did tell the truth on that bit of magic.”

Simisola put a hand on The Jester’s shoulder then turned to address Gormaliev. “Go, do what you will to set him on his path. It is fitting that an outsider shakes up our ways. I hope to meet you again.”

“Oh, we will. It is our fate.” Gormaliev disappeared in front of them and reappeared next to the salaman.

“So, what did you learn beyond setting people on the path to godhood?”

“An ancient evil in a plane known as Darkfall. She has a plan for protecting all the planes. A mere boy in the realm of Domhan. I hope she knows what she’s doing.”

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