Slate panted, wiping the sweat from his brow as he took a long drink from his flask. Finally, the last district is finished, he thought.

  It looks quite pretty. Too bad you didn’t have any slaves to do your bidding, his Passenger thought back to him.

  Oh come now, slavery is barbaric.

  Only if you don’t treat them well.

  Slate sighed, I suppose the Crulon being lorded over by the Axan are your example you would point to?

  Of course! Their society has existed since The Reforging of Heimfold after The Void Invasion.

  Well, one can’t argue with results. I doubt Vythin would be okay with it though.

  The two had many such conversations over the past several days; often about controversial topics which his Passenger took up a very cruel point of view, and Slate attempted to show it a compromise. Slate looked around and saw a figure coming from the gate. recognizing him he waved.

  Isaac walked up and took a seat at the edge of the fountain next to Slate, "Looks like you fixed up the building Vythin wrecked."

  Slate smiled, "Yes, and more. So much more. This city," he ran a hand through the water, "is a marvel of architecture. Every building in each district suited to its purpose. The residential area is completely furnished thanks to Vythin. The design of the stone and the intricacy of the patterns underlying it...is perfect. There’s even a fully functioning sewer system that leads to a cistern with some type of creature that eats filth. The fountain here cleanses itself every hour to provide fresh water. Some enchantment, I’m sure." He stood up and stretched, putting his flask away. "We have a good base set up. The last thing to do is install the gates, which I can’t do until your thorn wall is gone."

  Isaac blinked, "I’m sorry - a filth eating creature?"

  Slate waved his hand dismissively, "Yes. Many cities with sewage systems don’t let it simply run out into the countryside. There is a central cistern that all the sewers lead to, and a creature that is quite content with eating filth. The one under our feet," He stomped his foot for emphasis, "Is in hibernation. Once its...food starts flowing, it should awaken and do its job."

  Isaac stood as well, "Well, that’s a relief. On another note, I successfully established a portal leading to each Capital of every region."

  Slate’s eyes went wide for a moment, "So that’s what you’ve been up to. I was wondering. Are the portals currently open?"

  Isaac nodded, "Yes, and I have more to share, but I’d rather say it while Vythin is present as well." He glanced around, "Where is he anyways? Or our shadowy mage friend?"

  Slate pointed towards the temple district. "Vythin's in his new temple. As for Kalinor, he’s in the residential district with the children."

  Isaac followed Slate with curiosity etched across his features. As they walked, Slate detailed the various changes he had made to the city. Isaac interrupted, "How did you do all of this yourself?"

  Slate chuckled and glanced over his shoulder, "I’m a god of crafts. One hour of work for me is approximately the same work ten-thousand skilled craftsmen could accomplish. And that's without really trying. If I put my mind to it, I could make an entire city within a day from the ground up; provided materials were on-hand. And Vythin was able to provide some materials in his hour breaks of working on his artifact."

  The two exited the boulevard and entered the large northern district. Slate gestured to each temple, "I assume you know by the colors which is which?"

  Isaac nodded, "I saw it on my way in - how could I not?" An enormous plaza with spaces marked for stalls, with six massive temples - three to a side, with the city wall enclosing the space at the northern edge save for the large gate currently filled with thorns. All of the temples were the same size; easily fifty feet tall, the fronts decorated with pillars. Large slanted roofs sat atop the enormous rectangle. The three on the eastern side of the plaza were made of the same material as the rest of the city. The three on the western side, however, were unique. The closest of the three had black and gold walls, pillars, and a roof. The second in the row was a deep red interspersed with lines that looked similar to flames made of a lighter orange. The third, a deep, lush green with pillars that were much lighter, and designed to look like trees flowering in the Shine Season at winter’s end.

  Isaac shook his head, "Right. Well, I must say I am quite a fan of your work. Vythin is in his temple?"

  Slate nodded, "Yes, he’s working on his artifact." Slate led Isaac over to the temple and pushed open the massive gold doors. Inside, at the end of a long hall, was Vythin - sitting next to an altar with his hands over an object as gold and black light flooded from them and seemed to be absorbed. He looked up and yelled out, "Come on in!"

  The two gods approached. Slate looked up at the tall ceiling, quite proud of the murals above depicting dragons in flight and their various mythic deeds of strength.

  "How is the artifact coming along?" Isaac asked.

  Vythin nodded, "Good. My arms cramp every now and again, but other than that nothing in particular has been happening." He frowned, "It's been a boring week."

  Slate glanced over the design, noting how the Aether Shard had warped, thinned, and elongated so that it slowly took the desired form - a gorget made of glistening strands that were akin to diamonds.

  "I made portals. Tomorrow we will have representatives of each Capital city coming here. But, the portals are inside of the tree-house, so it should be easy to hold with a handful of individuals if they have hostile intent," Isaac stated.

  Vythin looked back down at his work, thinking for a moment, before lifting his head, "This could be quite advantageous. We are in a unique position. We have means of instant transportation - which we could charge for the use of, as well as plenty of housing, water, and ample space to grow food." He smiled, "We could very easily set ourselves up as a dominant political force across Heimfold."

  Imagine the people, the treasures they could bring. The power you could hold. You could be the secret ruler, manipulating all of your allies behind the scenes towards your own ends, the Passenger thought to Slate.

  I’m not one for politics, or scheming. If you are, then once we get you out of me you can deal with that all you wish.

  Don’t get rid of me and put me inside a gem! I’ve done nothing to harm you.

  But you’ve used me to do harm.

  ...I never said that I didn’t harm others.

  I’ll make you a deal. I promise to consider not extracting you if you sign a pact to be loyal to me.

  The Passenger grunted, Consider? Seriously? I’m not going to take you up on a deal that has a maybe attached.

  Suit yourself. I look forward to you being trapped in a gem.

  "I trust that as a god of wealth you would handle the matters of trade and whatnot. That still leaves us with a problem. We don’t have anyone who can stand guard at the hub itself," Isaac said.

  "Couldn’t you summon another nature soul?" Slate asked.

  Isaac paused for a moment and looked off to the side in thought, "I suppose I could. I don’t know if I can have two summoned at once. Yvilli might vanish. I just don’t know, and don’t think we should risk it. We are going to be busy in the next few seasons as people arrive, you’ll need her to keep taking care of the kids. Couldn’t you make a construct of some type? I’ve heard of creatures made of stone or clay that have minds of their own. You made a cat or something like it."

  Slate nodded, "A golem is the name; but construct is the general term. I could make several in rapid succession. They are not the brightest, but they are good for menial tasks. If we have some metal lying around they can make for potent guardians as well. Hmm…" Slate snapped his fingers, "If I use some of that Titansteel from the mine then we would have a nigh-indestructible defender who could guard the hub against hostilities...Yes...and several small iron constructs to patrol the city…" Slate’s mind raced as he thought of the various functions that could be performed perfectly by artificial constructs. He nodded, "I think that’s the best course of action. One gate-watcher made of Titansteel, and servitors made of metal to clean and maintain order." I need to ensure they don’t get free will like the dryad though. That wouldn’t do.

  And here I thought you were against slaves.

  It’s not the same! Mechanical creations are unliving automatons. Not living, feeling creatures.

  Vythin nodded, "That sounds like an excellent plan."

  Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

  Isaac chuckled, "Well, as long as they don’t develop minds of their own. Yvilli is nice and all, but I don’t think I could handle that many opinionated people in one sitting."

  Slate grinned, "Oh, they would have limited sentience; only enough to perform their function. I’ll work on it this evening, and should have the first batch done by the morning. However!" He clapped his hands, "I want to show off my masterpiece. Follow me."

  Isaac looked around at the temple, "This wasn't the masterpiece?" He asked aloud as he followed Slate.

  Vythin paced next to Isaac, the artifact in his hands glowing as heat continued to pour into the item. "Beats me. I’ve been cooped up here all week. The altars are like a heat-focus for us from what Slate said, post consecration. Helpful if we want to do big miracles. He had me make an absolutely ridiculous amount of gold and silver to craft them. I mean, an insane amount of gold and silver."

  Slate glanced over his shoulder as he led the two into his temple, "Precious metals are a great focus for a god's heat, in large quantities. But miracles using that type of focus take time." The interior of the building was lit by many wall-mounted braziers and torches. An enormous rectangle fire-pit burned with a bright blue blaze in the center leading up to a large altar shaped like an anvil. Slate led the way to a back chamber behind the altar, then down some stairs, where they were stopped by a large iron door. He passed his hand over it and loud clicking could be heard as it opened.

  Slate smiled as he looked over his workshop. A huge space under his temple; a crafting tool of every type was arranged neatly by type of profession and materials used. Stacks and rows of materials sat at the ready. At the far back corners, two doors; similar in design to the one they just stepped through, remained closed. Slate walked the two other gods to the center of the room and gestured. "Viola. My masterpiece."

  On the large central table were two enormous doors that could easily fit Bastion’s gate. The door was split into six panels, three to a side. On the left door each god’s visage was inscribed with their name. Vythin’s was the only one slightly different, as each face was smaller - but had all three of his forms. The right three panels were empty.

  Isaac grinned, "You portrayed us well."

  Vythin nodded, his eyes glistening with...some emotion that Slate couldn’t identify.

  Each was made of a metal that shone as bright as starlight - a pure white, glimmering sheen. Slate rapped his fist against the metal. "It turns out that Starmetal - or adamantine as some call it - is abundant throughout the Badlands. It was a bit risky, but I got enough to make these."

  Isaac ran his hand over the metal, "Isn’t Starmetal impossible to pierce?"

  Slate shook his head, "A common misconception. It is quite strong, but not invulnerable. The Divine Metals can puncture it, as well as enchanted weapons. And gods, of course." Isaac had a confused look on his face as Slate clarified, "Enchanted means weapons with spells cast upon them."

  Isaac nodded and walked around the gates, "Only three are filled. Why leave those others empty?"

  Slate stroked his beard, "The same reason the other three temples are without design. I can’t put my finger on it, but as I worked... I felt like we aren’t finished yet." He gestured between the three of them, "By that I mean our pantheon. Zohkah said that we would become a pantheon that could defeat The Void." He gestured to himself, "I’m not one for fighting. I know you two are, but the most I can do in a fight is throw fire around. Plus, there were six temples here already. I think Zohkah meant that we will be joined by others."

  "Six seems to be an intriguing number in our lives. The six prime elements of creation - water, air, fire, earth, shadow, light. Six Artificial Gods. The temples here," Isaac said, walking back to Slate. "I can see where your feeling comes from."

  "We are going to be adding New Gods to our own numbers then?" Vythin asked.

  Slate shrugged his shoulders, "I don’t know. Perhaps that is something Zohkah could answer for us." He pulled out the silver and gold coin, flipping it a few times. "We could just ask."

  Vythin nodded, "Good idea."

  Slate squeezed the coin. Contact Zohkah, he thought as the coin vibrated in his hand. He opened it so the coin rested on his palm, and an illusion projected from the archaic currency into the air in front of him and his companions. A deep brown landscape with a purple sky could be seen, and Zohkah sat next to a fire, poking it occasionally to keep it aflame. Ruined buildings that seemed impossibly tall rose in the distance; made of odd beams of metal strung together in a crossed pattern. He looked quite ragged and worn down. The ground all around was cracked and broken; black stone with grainy texture.

  He glanced up and smiled, looking at the trio. "I was wondering when you would reach out. Need guidance?"

  Slate shook his head, "Not particularly. We have things under control. We had a question."

  Zohkah scratched his ear, "Go ahead. We have a short time before the spell fades."

  "Where are you? What happened to you?" Vythin asked.

  Zohkah grimaced, "I did some exploring. Don’t worry, I’m fine now. But I had to deal with an Aberration." He rubbed his bandaged arm, "Acid really hurts."

  "I thought you couldn't be injured?" Isaac asked.

  Zohkah sighed, "I thought so too. While I am immune to aging, it turns out I'm just really, really hard to kill."

  "An Aberration? You’ve gone beyond The Guardian Belt?" Slate asked.

  Zohkah nodded, "Indeed. I am beyond the protection of the Artificial Gods. Doing research, as it were, to figure out how to stop The Void. I’ve got a lead but I’ll need to follow it up further."

  Vythin glanced between Slate and the projection, "I’m confused. He’s where?"

  Slate turned to Vythin, "He’s in one of the creations consumed by The Void."

  Zohkah gave a thumbs up and smiled, "Correct, god of knowledge. To fight the Void, we must know more about it. Anyways - I’m sure that’s not the question you had, and time grows short."

  Slate nodded, "Yes. The main question we had was this - how many are supposed to be in our Pantheon here at Bastion?"

  Zohkah cocked his head sideways, "Bastion?...Ah, you renamed the city. Well, in my time it was a dilapidated and abandoned site once the gods residing there left to rebuild creations once claimed by The Void. We called that event ‘The Exodus’. Many natives of Heimfold followed their gods to these remade worlds, and we would travel between them by ships that sailed the cosmos. I remember my first voyage to Heimfold to go ruin delving..." Zohkah looked off into the distance for a moment and paused before continuing, "According to my history book there were six ornate temples. The book also speaks of the six New Gods that were worshipped at those temples. I would therefore assume three more will join your ranks." Zohkah glanced around as a feral, distorted roar echoed in the background. He waved his hand and muttered an incantation as the fire went out. He lowered his voice to a whisper, "I can’t talk. I must move. I’ll come find you lot once I’m done here."

  The projection vanished, and the coin in Slate’s hand stopped vibrating, turning a copper color.

  Vythin clicked his tongue, "Seems like he is in a rough spot."

  Slate nodded, "I hope he isn’t injured further. His advice and insight into our possible future could be valuable. Ships that sail the cosmos itself..." He pocketed the coin and gestured to the gates. "Isaac, would you be so kind as to warp these gates and ourselves to the front of Bastion?"

  Isaac nodded and channeled heat; the viridian green glow surrounding the three gods and the doors as they appeared outside of Bastion’s gates.

  Vythin put his unfinished gorget on his neck and lifted one of the massive doors overhead. He looked to be comfortably bearing the weight. "Where do you want it?"

  Slate instructed the other two gods and within a short time they affixed the gates to the gap in the wall. After some work ensuring the hinges worked correctly the gods stepped back and looked at their now finished city. Slate smiled, "This is probably the greatest thing I’ve created so far."

  Isaac clapped him on the back, "Don’t sell yourself short, the city looks phenomenal. It’s good to have a home once again."

  Vythin nodded, approaching the doors and opening them with ease, leading the three inside, as he shut the gates behind them, a large locking mechanism clicking into place. The three made their way back through the temple district walking as they talked.

  "Have you two given thought to what Ignis said? Religion and all that?" Isaac asked.

  Slate rubbed his chin, "Have you thought about what you would want your followers to do?"

  Isaac nodded, "I have an idea. I’ve always loved the forest, and trees in general. So something to do with that. Maybe protecting forests and farmlands. Something along those lines."

  Vythin chuckled and looked wistfully up to the sky, "I want people who follow my example to treat each other with kindness and compassion." He looked back to Isaac and smiled, "Not that you won't encourage that. But I want to lift up every creature to find their purpose in their lives."

  Slate nodded sagely, "Everything is on the table for me...but I think I want to focus on education and free knowledge - any information. No restrictions."

  Vythin glanced over, "That could be dangerous."

  Slate smiled, "But they should still be able to have that choice. Knowledge is power. And knowledge should be available to everyone."

  "We should have a name. For our Pantheon. Just saying each of our names in a row will be annoying," Isaac said as he put a hand on his chin and looked at the ground in thought.

  Slate pondered for a moment, "You’re probably right. We wouldn’t want our worshippers to be confused."

  "Why not keep it simple? ‘The Pantheon at Bastion’," Isaac replied.

  Vythin shook his head, "Too simple. We don’t just want to be associated with a single location we call home. After all, we are gods who will be building influence across nations. And we may move away from Bastion, if what Zohkah said comes to fruition and his past - or his future? - comes to pass once more...reclaiming lost creations for ourselves..."

  I have an idea! Slate’s Passenger thought to him.

  Oh? Do tell, Slate thought back.

  The Destined. It’s got a nice ring to it. Plus, you have the whole ‘future’ angle included but it's not obtuse.

  Slate smiled, "How about The Destined?"

  Isaac thought for a moment and nodded, "Fairly simple. I’m fine with it."

  Vythin grinned, "Sounds catchy."

  You’re welcome.

  "It’s settled. I’ll make sure as I work tonight that I make some adjustments to various places within Bastion. Really get the name on stuff," Slate said as he cracked his knuckles. "Branding is important. Who knows? Maybe one day we three will be household names across the world!"

  "I’m going back to my temple to finish the artifact. It should be done tomorrow. Make sure you get some rest, Slate," Vythin said as he walked into the large black and gold temple.

  Isaac patted Slate on the back, "You’ve done a great job here. I’m going to tuck in early - it’s been a busy few days. Let me know if you need help with anything."

  Slate nodded as Isaac walked away.

  The next few hours passed as Slate went around Bastion and added iconography and the name of their Pantheon to various signs and the front gates. After completing that, he descended into his workshop, closing the door behind him. The intricate locking system whirred and was silent - the whole workshop completely still.

  Right then. Constructs. Slate channeled the heat from his torso into the workshop space as the tools sprang to life of their own accord, floating about as iron, wood, stone, clay, and other resources floated into place. Soon the room was filled with clanking, sawing, grinding, and the boom of hammer on anvil.

  Slate went to the back left door and opened the intricate lock, illuminating the interior with a wave of his hand as lanterns hung from the wall sprang to life.

  What are you going to do with that?

  Slate walked over to the large glass tube filled with liquid and ran a hand over it. I’m going to try something horrible, but extraordinary.

  The Passenger cackled with delight, Oh? Do tell. I’d love to know if I inspired it in some way.

  Slate sat down as the door shut behind him, beginning to pour various ingredients into beakers as he lit a flame under one of the vials of liquid - the brown ichor bubbling rapidly.

  You didn’t inspire me. Isaac did, actually, with that dryad he summoned. He pulled out several bones. He smiled, a deep satisfaction spreading through him as he began his work, the first of its kind since the alchemists of old who delved into the same secrets, and were punished by the gods for their work. I’m going to create a person.