It was indeed larger than the whole palace inside. Many thick columns rose high to a ceiling the light could not touch. The pathway was ever so wide, with weapons and gear of all kinds. For Peter, it was a treat for the eyes. The veil balls at some posts, with a range of a hundred metres, and the rarer golden ones, reaching a diameter of one whole kilometre.
"This was nothing like what Lady Uriel told me," Peter muttered, his eyes still gazing all around.
Khorn smiled. "See, I told you, don't trust tha—"
"It's even better!" he commented, walking to a small but deadly weapon. "Wait, don't tell me, is this, is this the replica of freaking Mjolnir!" he shouted, his voice echoing through the whole hallway.
The old man turned to the boy, his golden eyes abysmally irritated. "Your new pupil?" he asked Khorn.
"A junior," she simply replied, not even trying to explain.
"Hmmm…let me guess, he's what, forty to fifty years old?" he asked her, to which she tried to answer but stopped, not knowing the answer herself.
"He is just on the younger side. Humans don't live thousands of years like before, Elyon," she replied with respect, as the man before her was much, much older than herself.
The old man scratched his chin. "Indeed, indeed. I forget. Memories are getting hazy as you reach my age," he remarked, finally reaching the armoury of elementals.
"Are the twinkles of flame still with you?" he asked.
Khorn nodded, gazing around at the crimson and red crystal weapons. The leather uniform with anti-bullet coating. Glasses which saw warmth through hard walls. She took them, one after another, like a spoiled brat with many riches in her pockets, and the old man liked that, many of the heralds being his favourite clients.
Khorn took the golden veil ball with the silver and bronze ones as she saw the wind quarter. "…Did the others come recently?"
"Who? That bastard James?" the old man questioned.
"No…my other brothers and sisters…"
"…" He remained silent, his gaze cast a bit down, which could only mean one thing. They were here. The other heralds of Lord Aron. "Did they pay respect to the temple? Or did they just leave?" she asked.
The old man nodded. "Of course they did. If they didn't, they wouldn't see me even on my deathbed," he commented. "You want to visit it as well?"
Khorn smiled. She wanted to give him the good news, but she would wait. She nodded. "Lead the way, old man."
Peter finally came, his distracted mind finally catching up to them. "Wh-where are we going?" he asked, filling his pockets with charms and veil balls.
Khorn turned to the old man. "Can he—"
"NO! It's sacred," the old man bellowed.
Khorn puffed her cheeks. She could tell him Peter was one of them, but she knew the arrogant old bastard wouldn't listen. "Sorry, Peter, you will have to wait like an hour or two. Why don't you go out and search for him?" she commented.
Well, Peter couldn't say no. So all he did was nod. "Hmmm…roger," he voiced, his tone not satisfied at all.
"Let's go, old man. It's been a while," she voiced, as they walked to a corner leading underground. An underground which looked more like a dungeon than a simple basement. The stairs curved down in a circular path to its lowest depth.
"How many years has it been now? You lot still can't find him?" the old man asked.
"Haha, well. There's good news and bad news. I'll tell you later."
"Cheeky, aren't you?" he beckoned. As they reached a humongous golden door, locked with chains and all, with a single lock holding the door closed, the gate itself hummed like it couldn't hold what was inside.
Click!
The lock opened as the chains fell one by one. The door shook and shook as the sheer divinity inside pushed the door open. Khorn could feel it, the familiar but also haunting power held in the so-called temple.
The old man wasn't bothered, walking inside like the dense divinity of the room gave him some form of melancholy. "You know, because you bastards couldn't find him, I miss him more each day."
Both of them were surrounded by darkness, the only light shining in the middle of the temple. The golden light shone upon a glistening solid armour, which radiated more than power, more than divinity, like it represented destruction itself.
The old man went closer, bowing and paying respect. Taking out matches from his pockets, he burned some candles before the statue, and so did Khorn, bowing and lighting her own candle. Both of them started to pray.
"O Golden King who walks through doom,
My flame was forged by You alone.
When karma weighs and skies collapse,
Be my command, be my perhaps.
Guide my hand where fire must fall,
Grant me strength to burn through all.
By Your will, my soul is sworn—
Rise with me… or let me burn."
In the meantime, Peter got out. Back to the infinite crowd. He didn't like to dwell in public too much; he was also sure he wouldn't even find his lord, as he was wearing a hoodie of all things, covering his golden hair.
As he walked around the street, he saw all kinds of people—the awakened, the cursed, the avatars. Indeed, this place was the culmination of all. A location of peace. He had hoped the world would stay as peaceful as this. He smiled a bit as he walked around when a wail of cries echoed in his ears. A child's cry.
He turned to the noise, and lo and behold, it was the same men. The giant whom his lord had knocked down, withholding an item from a cursed child who had the same human body and face but horns like a reindeer.
"Give it back!" the girl cried out, jumping and reaching for a piece of paper. "It's mine, it's my treasure map!"
"Shut up, you cursed shit! Get away, I don't want your animal stench coming my way," he said ever so bluntly. And everyone watched. Of course they would. Who would start a fight here? Nobody. They didn't want to get kicked out of this place.
Peter didn't hesitate, walking towards them. And they saw him walking to them as well, and they recognized him instantly, the one who had been with the golden-haired man. They weren't that stupid. They didn't want to get involved with the monster anymore.
"Let's go, let's go, I think I saw a hot chick over there," the giant one commented, leaving the paper, letting it fall on the girl's head as they all walked away.
Peter thought he had to find some way to confront them, but it seemed they were wise. He walked to the girl, the smell of goat's hair curling into his nostrils. He hesitated but crouched down to her anyway.
"You okay, little girl?"
"Oh… Mister, it was you. Thank you!" she said excitedly.
Even though she was half animal, in the end she was also human, making him regret a bit how he had instantly judged them as lesser. "No need, dear. You reminded me of my daughter a bit. I couldn't help myself," he remarked.
And while he talked with the girl, taking her to where her parents were, Aron was there the whole time, a distance away, smiling. His golden eyes had driven the bullies away. Peter didn't seem to notice, but that was okay. The important thing was that he did well.
"What was that witch saying? Peter… hiding something?" he muttered, shaking his head in denial.
He walked back to the herald store, hoping Peter would come back after he took the girl back to her guardians, but he turned again, slightly worried.
'hmmm....he's gonna be okay.' he thought.
And he did, Peter holding the girl's hand as she skipped with the map in hand. "I will earn so much gold with this one!" she murmured happily. "You know, Uncle, I wanted to buy this spellbook to make my legs fast, and I will be faster, no, the fastest."
"Of course you will, dear. Where are your parents again?" he asked, his gaze turning to the map. He was curious what kind of map could earn gold. But he didn't want to make the girl too wary, and curiosity always killed the cat. The girl looked happy; he didn't want to break that.
"Uncle, there! There!" she pointed, jumping, to the restaurant nearby. Peter nodded, taking her inside the restaurant. And inside, both of them saw a man with a round hat, a white coat, and pants, waving a hand at them.
"Is that him?" Peter asked.
"Yes!" she bellowed. "Meet him, meet him, Uncle!" she said, pulling Peter with her as they came close. Peter wanted to get back and search for his lord, but hopefully he would only say a few words and go back.
The girl ran to her guardian, smiling. "I did it, I did it!" she exclaimed. "Will I get the gold, Uncle?" she asked the white-dressed man.
'…Huh?' Peter couldn't help but feel suspicious. "Dear, he isn't your father?" he asked, while the girl shook her head.
"Nice to meet you… Peter," the man voiced, his voice all too familiar, his yellow, glowing gaze all too familiar.
"Yo-you," Peter voiced, backing away, trying to back off, but the entry was shut as the people around gradually walked away. "Wh-what… shit!" he cursed as he realized too late. It was a trap. A bloody fucking trap.
"Calm down, Peter," the man said, giving the little girl a small bag of golden coins. "It's been a long time. I searched for you all over the world, actually," he mentioned.
Peter gulped, knowing he couldn't do much here. "What do you want… Hermes?" he questioned.
The man finally smiled, his vessel glowing with a spark of divinity. "Simple, give me back my daughter… Peter."