As they walked along the island toward the small house in the distance, Michael looked at the nearby trees. One of them on the edge of the others that surrounded the shrouded home in front of them had some writing carved into it. He approached and squinted at the oddly fine carving work in the trunk, trying to read what they said.

My dearest love, another day I consider the softness of your lips and the sharpness of your wit. I hope when you wake you see this note and are filled with the same love I felt for you as I left you sleeping.

He gently ran his fingers along the words, feeling a hint of warmth in them and seeing a trace of golden divinity woven among them. He looked up the tree and saw that that love note was one of many, and nearly every tree nearby was covered in them. All of them were giving off just a bit of golden lettering when he divined them too.

Godseeker was practically dragging him forward at this point and they approached the small house. It appeared to have been primarily made of clay with wooden shutters on the windows and colorful shells and stone pressed into the walls all across it. It had clearly been abandoned for some time, with a number of the shutters having fallen down and a great amount of wear all across it, but Michael could tell it had been built with great care.

He went to the front door, which was more of a large plank of wood that came off with a bit of force. He placed it against the side of the house and stepped into it. Just like the outside, the walls and ceiling were covered in colorful shells and stones along with a number of wooden carvings suspended from the ceiling by thread. Michael reached up and gently held one of the wooden sculptures, it was an intricate carving of a fish, with each individual scale perfectly wrought. They'd all been painted as well, not with realistic colors, but rather with bold colors and patterns that made them all seem vibrant and alive.

He followed the pull past a small table and chairs that had worn marks all across the wood floor showing frequent use, and looked over to the small kitchen where all small pots and pans had wooden handles that had been carved and painted into the shapes of horses, dragons, and falcons. Against the far wall was a large pile of soft fabrics that had been worn down and made a home by various animals over the years. In that pile, somehow perfectly preserved, were two skeletons that seemed to be locked into an embrace.

To Michael the skeletons were glowing bright with the golden light of the divine and when he reached their bed and knelt down next to it, all of that light seemed to rush toward him.

…

Vernic stood on the beach of the Grandis Lake and stared into the eyes of his lover, Grisha. His feet were still wet from dragging their small boat onto the shore, and his arms screamed from the rowing he'd done to get them there, but he didn't notice any of it. All he could see was Grisha. All he could feel was the warmth of her hands in his. All he could taste was her lips that had lingered on his own only a moment before. All he could smell was the scent of paint that followed her everywhere.

He moved a lock of auburn hair from her face and kissed her again. She returned it passionately, and within moments they were rolling along the beach together, empty of any thoughts, but the craving they had for one another and their desire to link the fires burning in their chests together for as long as possible.

They had given up everything to be together. Grisha's father was a member of the King's royal household, who had never accepted their love. Vernic had met her when assisting his father with building the set of tables and chairs for the great hall. Even from the first moment they'd seen one another, they'd felt as if lightning had struck them. A terrible attraction that neither of them could deny.

They had lost everything by giving into their mad desire to be together, but in that moment on the beach, their legs entangled and their bodies slick with sweat, they never felt happier or more free.

Vernic took her hands in his own and stared into her grey eyes with his green ones.

"I shall love you forever. I swear it in the name of the Goddess of Love, Veras."

She smiled. "And I shall love you forever. I swear it in the name of the Goddess of love, Veras."

…

Michael inhaled sharply as the vision ended causing the others to jump.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

"Are you alright?" asked Davi.

Michael took several deep breaths trying to steady himself and taking note of everything around him. During the vision he had felt like he was Vernic and Grisha. He'd felt what they felt and knew what they knew. After their declaration of love on the beach in the name of Veras, Michael had also experienced a number of other scenes from their life, and his mind struggled to sort through all of them.

"I think I'll be okay." He brought himself back to his feet with a bit of help and shook his head. "It's good to meet you, Veras," he said, though he held off on mentioning that it felt like she came on a bit strong. None of the others had sent him a vision before.

~love~abounds~pilgrim~

He grasped his chest and gritted his teeth. Veras's voice… It was the same as Sara's.

"Let's get him out of here," said Pyotr, grabbing his shoulder and helping him back out to the woods. He steadied himself against a nearby tree. Not only did Veras's voice sound like Sara's, she seemed to be pulling things from him. Memories of not only his wife, but also of his children, his parents, his dearest friends. Beautiful memories, sad ones, all of them reminding him of what he'd left behind and couldn't return to.

"Please…stop," he said as he started to weep.

Veras didn't stop though, not until she'd looked through every time he hugged his children, kissed his wife, or laughed with a friend. By the time she was done he felt as if he'd been wrung out like a towel.

"Leave me alone!"

Michael looked up, surprised to see that it was Marcus that had yelled.

They all approached him as he fell to his knees, clutching his chest just as Michael had.

"I don't want to see her, please."

Michael ran to his friend's side and placed a hand on his shoulder.

…

Marcus sat in the seat of an old Benz, checking the clip in his Glock before sliding it into the back of his pants. He looked over to Trish who was nibbling on one of her acrylics. She was wearing makeup, but he could still see the dark circles under her pale eyes. He grabbed her by the smallest part of her chin and brought her toward himself for a kiss.

"It'll be okay, baby. I'll be in and out and then we leave. Alright?"

"Marcus… go kill that motherfucker."

Marcus smiled and kissed her again before he hopped out of the car.

…

Michael gasped again, but came back to his senses much more quickly than he had before the previous vision.

"Veras! Release him!"

"Wait…" said Marcus, managing to wrench his eyes open. "It's okay. Let it happen."

Michael hesitated as he watched Marcus's expression contort into one of pain, but he held firm. "Okay."

"What the fuck is happening?" asked Ollie.

"Veras, the goddess of love. She was the one pulling me here. She's…making us experience moments of love. It's a lot to take in at once."

"Fuck… all I had to do was hear some laughter," said Ollie shaking his head.

They all gave Marcus a few minutes and eventually he took a deep breath and stood up. He was still for several more minutes, staring into the fog in the distance as he steadied himself.

"Are you okay?" asked Michael.

"I don't want to talk about it."

Michael nodded. "Want something that will help you feel better?"

Marcus frowned, but nodded.

Michael walked back into the house with Marcus in tow and moved over to the table. He slid it to the side, letting the memory he had from the lovers that had lived there guide him. He pulled up a piece of wood and there was a small hole dug beneath it. He reached inside and pulled out a solid gold chalice with four rubies inlaid into it.

The lovers had stolen it when they'd run, thinking they might need to have something to fund their new life if they were cut off from making it to the island. Luckily they hadn't needed it and they shared a drink from it every anniversary of their arrival.

He took a moment to divine it.

Titles:

The Lover's Chalice:

Whatever liquid is poured into this cup will never run out when shared between lovers

Michael described it to the rest of them, and handed it to Marcus to let him inspect it. He wished Marcus was more open to talking, but he figured a bit of treasure was the right thing to soothe him a bit. Not that he wouldn't insist on a cut along with the others.

"She looked a bit like Crim," said Michael.

Marcus looked at him. "You saw her?"

"For a moment."

Marcus held the goblet quietly for a few seconds, his expression one of forced neutrality as he continued to wrestle with what he'd just seen. "Well, the trip was probably worth it for this." He turned around and walked out of the house.

Michael took one more moment alone in the shrine to love that had been lived in for a lifetime. He was jealous of those two skeletons that lay inside intertwined. Jealous that they'd been able to finish their life together, never having to be without the other.

He still felt raw from what Veras had pulled out of him, but he hadn't sensed anything malicious in it, just a desire to know the loves of others. It was her domain after all. Still, it had been as painful as it had been beautiful. The other gods hadn't been nearly so invasive when he'd been introduced to them.

~beloved pilgrim, walk with love~

Michael still winced a bit at hearing his wife's voice, but he was grateful at the same time. He didn't think he'd ever hear it again. That was also a very clear sentence without the usual breaking up. He'd thought that in Bruntus's case it was because he was in the center of his worship and maybe it was the same here, but he also wondered if the gods were all gathering strength again, and if he continued then maybe the remaining gods of Judgement and Strength would have an even greater impact on him when he met them.

He walked out slowly, running his fingertips along the textured walls as he left.

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