Apostles of Doom

“So I’ve been told by Tamarin and Erestofanes. I didn’t see it at first, but I do now. However, that’s nothing compared to his standard human form,” Tom said, gesturing to the picture that had freaked him out.

Antefalken turned to look at that portrait and did a sharp double take. “Unholy bat crap!” He turned to stare at Tom in shock. “How is that possible?”

Tom shook his head. “I have no idea; that’s why I wanted you to see it.”

Antefalken turned back to the portrait and simply stared. “How is it that a demon prince, dead for four thousand plus years, had a human form that looks just like yours. Are you sure you had never seen pictures of him before?”

Tom shook his head. “No. My Edwyrd form is what I looked like as a human, perhaps a little older.”

Antefalken just shook his head. “That is really creepy.”

“Yes. Thanks for realizing it.” Tom said gratefully. “Tamarin and Erestofanes seemed to take it in stride. I know for a fact I am not Orcus and we don’t do reincarnation on my world. Or at least no one can prove it, nor did I have a religion that would reincarnate me.”

“That’s the key point, I think.” Antefalken agreed. “Every instance of reincarnation I am aware of is controlled by the gods. It’s part of a religious contract they have with their followers. I have the impression that you are not a particularly religious person.”

“How can one be religious when one drinks and has dinner with gods and goddesses?” Tom asked. “It’s really hard to worship someone you know.”

“I would have to agree. I myself am not religious. Demons get too big of a look behind the curtains,” Antefalken agreed.

Tom paused for a moment. “Okay, I am now thinking back to our conversation shortly after I brought Talarius to the Abyss. You were telling me, to my shock, that the gods were real people, and now here I am talking about having dinner and drinks with them.” Tom shook his head in disbelief and wonder. “I’ve done that with Phaestus and Sekhmet, and tomorrow night I’ve been invited to the Nyjyr Ennead’s outpost in the Abyss for dinner. This is getting a bit too surreal.”

“Someone is moving in rarified circles,” Antefalken grinned at him.

“Not as rare as people that used to be in Lilith’s good graces,” Tom shot back with a grin.

Antefalken nodded. “Very few stay that way, and I’m afraid I am no longer in her good graces. I’m pretty sure I’m on her exterminate list, in fact.” He stopped suddenly and looked at Tom. “Wait — did you just say these gods have a place in the Abyss? Why would gods have an outpost in the Abyss?”

“Yeah, that struck me as odd as well,” Tom agreed. “Phaestus said it had something to do with their restoration plans. Apparently they are working on multiple fronts. I am betting it will make more sense once I see the place and talk to them more about their plans.” He shook his head. “Gods and all their crazy scheming.”

“Almost as bad as the demon princes and archdemons.” Antefalken laughed.

“Almost,” Tom agreed.

Antefalken stared back at the painting of human Orcus. “It’s a nice gown. I saw it in a display case early this morning.”

“What?” Tom asked, puzzled.

“Over on the other side is a large set of rooms with display cases of clothes.”

Tom shook his head. “Why would Orcus keep his clothes in a museum rather than his closet?” He made a puzzled expression. “Actually, his closet and wardrobe are fairly empty, very basic. I’m not even sure where Zelda got the gown I used for the first oath taking in the throne room.”

Antefalken nodded. “The clothes in the cases are just his templates. He doesn’t actually wear those particular clothes.”

Tom looked at Antefalken, puzzled. “What you do you mean, his templates?”

Antefalken looked quizzically up at Tom. “For shape-changing, of course. Just like with these pictures. He uses the clothing templates to remember what the clothes he wants to shape-change into look and feel like.”

Tom shook his head. “What? Are you saying his clothing was part of his body or something?”

Antefalken nodded and tugged on his collar. “Of course. You haven’t noticed that I always wear the same clothes and they are always clean and never get damaged? Even when I get fire-balled or shot full of arrows? Heck, with all the soot around here, it would take a lot of washing to keep my colors this bright!”

Tom reached down to carefully touch the bard’s shirt, trying to avoid clawing him. “Really? This is you?”

“Yep.” Antefalken nodded. “However, they are removable parts of me. I can take them off, and if I leave them somewhere, they’ll just fade away and I can reform them as needed. Makes getting dressed when the lass’s father or husband comes pounding on the door much easier.”

“So you can shape-change?” Tom asked.

“Not exactly.” Antefalken shook his head. “About the best I can do is alter my appearance. Hair style, facial hair and clothes. Took me a hell of a lot of practice to get the clothes right. I tend to keep them the same so I don’t have to memorize too much. I do sometimes change the color, but that’s about it.”