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is exceptional enough.”

Old man. Grandfather. Wilan? In his true persona? wondered Tyler. I doubt if Quetzalcoatl would use those descriptions lightly. Compared to him, Wilan is indeed an old being.

The exile quickly got down on his knees and bowed deeply.

“This is a fabulous gift. One fit for kings and emperors. My utmost thanks, great one,” said Kobu. There was no mistaking the sincerity of the exile’s gratitude.

“Or fit for somebody being hunted by three half-human spiders. It is not me you should give thanks to, but rather the First Mage who made my return and the cleansing of my pantheon possible,” replied Quetzalcoatl.

“Now the ranger. Your enchanted armor is one I cannot even create. The aura of the ancient ones is ingrained in it, not to mention the material itself is of a singular origin. Both the giver of the scales and the creator who made it and gave it their blessings would be furious if I tinkered with it. Though I have to admit, the forging of the armor is beyond me. But your bow leaves much to be desired,” commented the deity again as he waved his hand in the direction of Habrok.

“There! An unbreakable bow. With your will, decide whether an ordinary arrow would be tipped with lightning or with flame. But only after every four arrows. And your longsword. It will cut through the hide of any beast known to man, except drakens again. I apologize, but there is an eerie quality about that race which baffles deities and mortals alike.”

Habrok merely bowed his head and voiced his thanks. But Tyler saw that as the deity turned his back to face the mage, Habrok’s face broke into a huge grin and the ranger started to examine his bow. Even Kobu was feeling out the kinks of his new armor.

“This is incredible! My heartfelt thanks, Quetzalcoatl. We might have a chance in our journey after all,” declared Tyler. The mage was ecstatic. He never dreamed one of his primary concerns had already been resolved. The news about Kobu’s new adoring fans was unnerving, but he did expect it, way back when the party was still in Viracocha’s temple.

“That remains to be seen. Some advice, First Mage; never tempt Fate. But I am not finished yet,” said the deity. “I have something for you. For your staff, actually.”

Inwardly, Tyler panicked. He was already worried about the myriad of different energies already in the staff—from Rumpr, Hephaestus, Viracocha, Nike, and others. Even his guides did not know what would happen if more powers of a different kind were pumped into it.

“Uh, that won’t be necessary. You’ve done a lot for us, for me, already,” Tyler started to protest.

“Nonsense. Your armor is more powerful than that of the ranger, but a mage’s staff could always use more power.”

Oh my God. Not this staff.

Despite Tyler’s protests, a powerful burst of energy erupted from Quetzalcoatl and embedded itself in the staff. Shaken, the mage, with eyes closed, waited with desperate fear and trepidation as to what would happen. He half expected a massive explosion of magical energy blowing them all to pieces. Nothing happened though the staff felt hot to the touch.

“What was that?” he finally asked the deity as he opened his eyes.

“A spirit of wind and fire. It now resides in your staff. Take care of it. It is young but with time and care, will grow into a magnificent creature. But remember, it is an elemental force of nature. How you treat and teach it has a lot of bearing on what exactly it will be in the future.”

“As with my companions, I humbly offer my gratitude for the gifts. I never expected you would be so generous.”

“Do spread the news around. It helps with a deity’s stature,” replied Quetzalcoatl with a smile, just as an inquisitive voice sounded in the back.

“Excuse me, but how do I turn off this thing?” asked Tyndur, already covered with the flames from his ax from head to toe.

Chapter Four

“You Lazy Excuse for a Mage!"

Then Vithar arose and poured drink for Loki; but before he drank, he spoke to the gods:

11. “Hail to you, gods! | ye goddesses, hail!

Hail to the holy throng!

Save for the god | who yonder sits,

Bragi there on the bench.”

The deity looked at the einherjar with mirth in his eyes. The lines of his mouth were struggling to free themselves from Quetzalcoatl’s self-control.

“Tyndur, is it? I would have expected you of all people would know how to control such an ability,” said the Aztecah god, hilarity now dancing on his face.

The rest of the party were trying to be stoic about the entire spectacle, but it was difficult to keep a straight face in the presence of a Tyndur covered in flames, innocently asking how to put out the eldritch fire. Tyler noticed that Habrok finally turned his back and walked away for some distance.

“Ah, einherjar, warrior of the north, and Odin’s more-than-your-average fighter of Asgard. I am sorely tempted to let you figure it out for yourself, but I would be a poor gift-giver if I didn’t help in your… lack of knowledge.”

“My thanks, great Quetzalcoatl. But a slight correction. I am not Odin’s or any deity’s warrior. I had my fill of powerful beings for reasons of my own,” replied Tyndur.

“But you serve his purposes despite your unwillingness, do you not? A matter to ponder upon, einherjar. And for powerful beings, isn’t the First Mage also a powerful one? Defeating demigods and even a major deity. A friend to a lot of powerful gods too, if you have noticed,” said Quetzalcoatl.

“Ha! But he’s mortal. And from what I have seen so far, far more human than a lot of people in this world,” answered Tyndur decidedly. “Now, about these flames, if you please?”

“Your will, einherjar. You wield your weapon as an extension of yourself, as an experienced warrior should. It’s the same with the flames, they are but an extension of

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