"Then who else?" asked Abasi, not knowing of the Spire siege nor the trapped spirit within - he had seen the structure, even climbed to the top of it, but had only seen Wessex there. He had assumed it to be something similar to the pyramids or obelisks of his world and not thought much further. Still, it was clear from Jigano's tale that there was more history to the Gods here than he had known.
Jigano's suggestion was considered but he quickly shook his head. "Why would they suffer us? A God is surely capable of killing a man and if they did not wish to see us on their land, they could smite us within the hour." In his world they had tales of men overcoming Gods, but they were from ancient times, far-flung pasts. Gods like the ones he had known and the ones in Caido were too powerful to be hesitant about eliminating their problems.
He was very interested to know more about the complex monarchy of the Hollowed Grounds, as Abasi was unsure who to support of all the names he had heard. The Pharaoh had once been so important to him it felt bizarre to not be in service to a royal (perhaps this was why he felt such a weighty respect for Wessex). "Why did he not continue his rule after his illness? He still lives, yes? And what puppets do you speak of? I only know of Zariah, Wessex and Ronin as rulers. This is very confusing to me. In my world, the Pharaoh's son became the new Pharaoh, as it had been for many centuries." All this swapping and choosing seemed far too complicated.
Hearing of spats between the Gods he smiled a little, memories coming to the surface. "It was the same in Egypt. Many of our stories are of fights and disagreements between the Gods. ...Do you know of anybody truly devoted, who may be able to help me speak to the Gods? Perhaps if I arrived with a proven servant, I may be able to have an audience." Getting to his last bush to plant, Abasi pushed in the dirt with his fingers then sat back, looking at the beginnings of his new life and wondering if he would stay here long enough to see it grow.
A B A S I
The birds are mocking me
They call to be heard
The birds are mocking me
They curse my return
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