The Temple of the Silent Blade was one of the many small, unoccupied churches across the capital city of Phos, essentially a concrete box with a small wooden, never-locked door and a small shrine inside. While most Rethavok only lightly worshipped their matron deity, the Panelix, the current High General had allowed the construction of churches for the other three deities, in order to appear more fair and balanced. Of course, the Panelixian churches were much more lavish, and these smaller churches were mostly unused, but the Rethavok were trying to be less hostile to other species that wished to work alongside them.
However, at least this church saw use. Even if it was only by a very small handful of Rethavok. While the churches to the Whenvern and the Allbirther remained mostly empty, there had been a tiny trickle of beings that had begun to leave offerings to the Thantophor. The Temple of the Silent Blade just happened to be the closest temple to Kentron, the governmental buildings that housed the ruling elite, but there were a handful of influential beings who had… stronger than normal feelings towards the God of Death. The majority of those though simply wished to acknowledge the Lord of Decay, in order to mourn their lost loved ones.
In Relkir’s eyes though, the Thantophor was more than just the shadowy beast at the end of life. While, yes, the Thantophor wasn’t just death, he was decay and entropy as well, Relkir had… noticed something in the five decades he had been alive. All of the Holy Four had secondary aspects about themselves. The Allbirther was also tied to food, alcohol and hedonism, not just life, while the Whenvern was believed to bring wealth and power to his followers. The Holy Panelix, the Lady of Light, she didn’t just represent space, but she also represented protection, creation and exploration, which her three chosen races each embodied. The Thantophor though was more… curious. A handful believed him to also be a god of luck or even misfortune. But Relkir’s studies had discovered another side of the Lord of Decay. The Thantophor was strongly connected to the keeping of oaths and promises.
This idea of Relkir’s had begun while trying to help their superiors in the untangling of some legal documents. The Rethavok weren’t always a strong race. In fact, they had originally been quite weak, too small in number and lacking the technology to fight off other races. The Torr in particular had been rather aggressive towards them, enslaving a large part of the Rethan population to work in Torrian mines. It had taken the direct intervention of Epani Herself to allow the Rethans to break free and become independent. But even then, the Torr created many treaties in order to keep their fellow Epanian races weak. The Rethavok had survived and grown stronger. The same could not have been said about their allies, the Lanex.
The legal documents Relkir had been working on were ancient ones, written by the Torr, that the fledgling Rethavok had been forced to sign, barring them from properly working alongside other, non-Epanian races. The treaties were wildly unfair and were still holding the Rethavok back. Somevok had suggested that they just break the treaties, but somevok else had threatened that the now peaceful Torr might go to war against them. And, of course, no one wanted that, aside from the Thantophor, correct?
Not so much. While little was known about the Thantophor directly, many did acknowledge that the Death God actively hated war. When the early Rethavok tangled with their shadow-born cousins, the Skayvok, the Thantophor had directly intervened, sparing the lives of many. And when the Spasts and Thraki threatened to tear each other apart as they fought over the trapped body of the Whenvern thousands of years ago, the Thantophor, a god that had no ties to either race, was the one to solve the issue, not the more powerful goddesses of Space and Life.
There was more to it though. That potential war between the Thraki and the Spasts? It had been solved via a peace treaty. Both races had to give up their most powerful weapons, at least temporarily. When it was discovered that the Spasts had been secretly rebuilding their arsenals, justice was swift and decidedly deadly. And when the Skyavok broke their peace deal with the early Rethans? Despite being one of the Thantophor’s chosen races, they were punished, forced into the sunless lands where they reside to this day.
Every single time a promise was broken, the Thantophor would be there, right? Well, not always. The further Relkir dug, the more they realized that the God of Death had a strong sense of justice, as if it was bound to rules similar to those of the mortal races. It only stepped in when justice was needed, when the other deities were uninterested. The question that bothered Relkir the most though was why? Why was the Thantophor the way it was? Why was a being associated with the uncaring entropy, the end of forward time, so interested in seeing that victims see justice and the wrong be punished?
But when it came to the Rethavok, they wanted to break a treaty. They wanted to break the forced words that kept them bound to just their duties as defenders. The Rethans wanted to be seen as more than just silent, cold defenders, guardians, soldiers. They wanted to have a more noticeable appearance outside of the Battle Arenas that kept the peace. For the first time in a long, long time, the Rethavok felt safe enough that they wanted to expand. The Torr were preventing them from doing so. But if the Rethavok broke their unfair laws, would the Thantophor intervene? No one knew. Relkir needed to know.
Of course, there were more personal reasons behind all of this. Relkir had been the victim of a broken promise. They had spent years working to reach their position of power, with the ability to whisper into the ear of the High General as an advisor, a desire to end a generations-long tradition that had left Relkir cold and loveless, only to be told that their original promise, their original desire, was to be denied. Two decades, pretty much wasted. While the Thantophor, the Keeper of Oaths, would appear to higher powers, would it appear to mortals?
There was no obvious way of knowing. That was, until recently. The Thantophor had been sighted in physical form in a handful of places over the last couple of months, more than normal. In a trend that matched both the up-tick in Thantophoric worship and a series of horrific disasters that had left a lot of beings dead. Relkir had come to a rather simple conclusion, that both of these things had forced the Thantophor to interfere once more. And all Relkir needed to do was to pray hard enough, in the hopes that the Lord of Decay would hear them.
That was why Relkir was there, at the Temple of the Silent Blade, muttering prayers, making wishes, leaving offerings of gold and delicate carvings. Except, so far, nothing had happened. And, yet again, Relkir was leaving the church cold and alone.
Luckily, their trip back to the Kentron was not too far. And before Relkir knew it, they were back in their office. With time to spare. Time which Relkir immediately put towards tracking the Thantophor’s latest whereabouts. There was a… rumour that the Thantophor had taken the shape of a yellow-armoured Rethavok, according to the scared Temthans and Vrekans that had been saved from a mysterious corrupt laboratory. And a similar being had been spotted in Palaestra, the city of the Great Arenas. Perhaps…
Relkir smiled, just a little. They had a… contact there that they could use. They just needed permission first.