First Round Tavern
9 months after Garbon’s death
“So, in the beginning, reality was ruled by a single god - the god of Balance. Wait… no, that’s not right. Let me start again…”
Ethan took another sip of his pint and continued talking to himself in the corner of the crowded bar.
“So, in the beginning, there was a god. Just one. And they were bored, because nothing else existed. Like… NOTHING! So they snapped their fingers and POOF! They made things…”
“Trees. Grass. Lakes. Mountains. Snow. Some people said they made too much snow… and I happen to be one of them…” He frowned as though the thought itself was an unpleasant taste.
The small glass porthole beside his booth was frosted over, obscuring any chance of viewing the dirty snow covered streets and the dark, huddled mounds that scurried among them. It was nearing midnight and Ethan was more than slightly drunk as he professed to the captive audience in his invisible ring.
“Anyway, mountains, snow, etc. etc. And for a little while, this made them happy.
“But, pretty soon, they got bored again. Because nothing really changed - a mountain was just a mountain, after all. A lake was just a lake.”
“No drama. Very boring.”
“So, the original god decided to make two more gods and pitted them against each other. There was a Light god and a Dark god…”
A small, leather pouch filled with salt was paired off against a very similar leather pouch filled with pepper.
“And that made things interesting!”
He started to take another drink but paused, starring at the glass as though seeing it for the first time. He placed the half filled mug back on the table without drinking and cleaned his face with his sleeve.
“But, after a while, the Dark god started winning… Because he was willing to do anything to win while the Light god restrained himself with morals and ethics…. And once the Dark god started winning, there was no way the Light guy had a chance.”
He turned the pouch of salt on its side - gravely wounded - its contents bleeding onto the table.
“Like a chess game when you’ve already taken most of their good pieces. Real one-sided, you see? And this would be bad. Because once the Dark god won, then everything would be boring again!
“So the original god made another god - the god of Balance. And he was really good. Maybe the best god the original god ever made!”
He paused a moment, as though waiting for the disembodied man to nod in agreement. Instead, Ethan nodded to himself and continued.
“The problem was, he was too good. The two sides eventually settled into a stalemate. Neither side could make any headway, because the god of Balance was always there to even things back out.
“So once again, things became too boring.”
“But the original god was smart, see? And he got an idea. He decided to take a small part of the Balance god while he was sleeping. And from that, he made a little god. Like a little imp. And that was the god of Choas.”
“And this god wasn’t good or bad. He was just the antithesss… the anTITHess…” His eye narrowed in determination. “He was just the opposite of Balance.”
“He loved to run around and undermine all the plans the other gods made. He played tricks on all sides. And completely randomly: he was just as likely to tear holes in their socks as he was to have a general of an army spontaneously combust right before a big battle.”
“And he always - and this is the important part - he always kept things interesting… so he became the favorite of the original god. So, no matter how angry the other gods got a his pranks, they could never act against him, because he was protected by the original god who made them all.”
“And that’s where I get it from! That’s why…” he smiled slyly. “…I have to do it!” This assertion was made with the earnest pride of the well inebriated.
A silence followed. While Bishop no longer possessed a corporeal form, it was easy to imagine him rubbing his temples in vexation.
“Gods how I wished you could read…” he replied.
”What are you talking about?! That’s gold, man! Solid gold! Easily as good as anything you’d find in some… book!”
“Ethan, I’m training you to help bring balan….”
“—Balance!” Ethan interrupted. “Right, I know. But…!”
“So, if there was any value to your insane fiction, (and there isn’t) you would serve the god of Balanc-…”
“Yeah! But that’s the trick, see? I mean, what better prank is there than invisibly infecting an ‘agent of Balance’ with a little chaos when the ole Balance goddess wasn’t looking?!”
“So Balance is a goddess now?” Bishop mocked.
“Could be! I don’t know how these things work, man. Gods are crazy…” Ethan took another small sip.
Bishop was silent for several seconds before finally replying.
“No,” he said.
“Oh come on…” Ethan leaned his head back, his hands raised in a petulant plea that made him look too young to buy ale even through his layers of makeup.
“No! Absolutely not. Even if there was any substance to the apocryphal heresy you just made up…”
“—I think it’s real…”
“…which there isn’t!” Bishop continued. “This still doesn’t make any sense to…”
“I’m doing it…”
“Ethan! No! Ethan!”
Pulling his cowl over his head, Ethan vanished from sight; only spilled salt remained at the now empty table.
A solid but unseen wind made its way through the crowded bar towards two large, burly men standing with their backs to one another. Each had been trying to ignore the presence of the other for the better part of an hour. One man was a former town guard, relieved of duty after the Swan soldiers seized control of the city; he now worked part time as a bouncer for a different bar just down the street.
The other man was a Swan soldier.
As he moved between them, Ethan spilled his half filled pint on the guard, and stepped inconsiderately on the back of the other man’s leg. Each man turned in objection, confronted by the hostile face of someone they already disliked.
Ethan smiled at the sounds of the escalating brawl in the tavern behind him as he made his way into the frigid night.
“And what was the point of that?” Bishop asked, making no attempt to hide his exasperation.
“I don’t know,” Ethan said as confidently as ever. “I just know when that little voice of chaos tells me to do things I can’t make sense of, I’m supposed to listen.
I may or may not be able to help ‘balance’ the world, Bishop. But I think I’ll keep getting a chance to try… so long as I keep some god laughing.”
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