It was midday by the time Rhenakos had made his way to the entrance to the Temple door. Despite his initial disdain in requesting the help of the Gods, he had heard that one deity in particular could unlock someone’s magical potential. That was worth investigating in his mind…anything that would help him achieve his goal at killing demons. The midnight stone that the majority of the temple was made from seemed to radiate magic, which ironically Rhenakos could not feel, but he could almost see it.

Standing before the door, he tried to open it as many had before him. The door refused to budge. Annoyed, Rhenakos pushed on the door harder. Yet again, it refused to move.

“Oh hell,” Rhenakos started, pulling out his sword. “I’m getting in this damned temple if its the last thing I do…” He raised his blade to strike the door, and brought it down with tremendous force. As one would expect from a magical entrance, the door reacted by some unknown magic, rebounding both the strike and Rhenakos himself a few feet back. He hit the ground hard, sliding on the cool black stone before stopping.

“Stupid Gods. Stupid doors…” He jumped up, sheathing his blade. “How in the hell am I supposed to get the damned door open!?” The demon hunter marched forward, once more approaching the door. This time, he noticed the engraving, the words.

“Only I Know the Secret,” Rhenakos read aloud. “What the hell is this?” He knelt closer, his eye scanning over it. “Oh…you crafty bastard…” He smirked, placing a finger on the ‘I’, and pushing it down. “What a stupid trick…” He pushed the door open, and waltzed inside.

The main entrance seemed relatively normal, for the most part. Murals of the patron God were strewn across the sides, illuminated by levitating sunstones.

“Oi!? Anyone home?” he called out. “Is the God in!? I could use some help!”

To the rather disruptive shout there was relative silence, almost deafening. And after a moment there was a slight crackle of energy as the spirit of Tar Eisalae manifested itself. The great celestial pelted cat stood perched on the top of a shelf, just above the loud visitor's head, poised to pounce. It growled in warning at the large man a warning to perhaps be a bit more respectful of the place he was in. 

"Sir, I would have to ask that you lower your voice," a female voice said from behind the large red-head man. Slim and petite, wearing black and navy, with hair like raven's wings and eyes that couldn't decide if they were supposed to be silver, blue, or green, she was easily a head or even more smaller than Rhenakos, but the sharp glint in her eye suggested that there was a lot that might come in this small package. 

"We are not only in a Temple, but a Library. People come here to study and research," she said pointedly. "You are here to see Lord Adraejen. He's in the Conservatory. Please follow me," she said as she walked past him towards the silver and crystal tree in the middle of the main floor. Behind Rhenakos, Tar Eisalae jumped down from the shelf and followed after the pair. 

He couldn’t deny the fact that he was being loud, but a big part of him didn’t care. However, when the short woman appeared, there was something about her presence that sent a chill down his spine. He would have fought back, but her chastising words immediately rolled in to exactly what he came for; the God.

“Fine, fine,” He said, attempting to lower his voice. Rhenakos glanced up at the cat, who seemed overly wary of the hunter. It was with good reason. “Calm down,” he said, the volume in his voice lowered significantly buy still too loud for a library.

“Stupid cat…” he muttered under his breath as he followed the mystery woman. The fact that the cat was now following them made the hunter uncomfortable. Perhaps it was more than just a cat… But it’s not a demon. At least, not that I can tell. Now that he was indoors and headed to meet the God, his anger seemed to be dissipating.

“So what’s this…Adraejen like?” he asked. “I hear he can pull magic out of people, or something like that. Can he really do that?”

"Master Adraejen has the unique ability to awaken latent magical potential in an individual if there is magic within them, yes. I've seen him pull out the potential of a couple different people, and heard stories of others," Iris answered, her icy tone gone and replaced with a much lighter kinder one. "It's what makes him ideal as the God of Magic and Knowledge. This entire temple is sentient and can react to his thoughts and the thoughts of others."

Behind Rhenakos, the giant celestial pelted cat growled in affirmation. They walked through one of the archways and the library became more of a lush sort of jungle garden. Several different creatures could be heard in the undergrowth and Iris lead the way down the paved path between the silver ropes that lined the enclosures. The jungle gave way to a small field of flowers in bright sunlight where a young rose hydra sat contentedly sunbathing as the slim figure of Adraejen Porthyrius stood beside it carefully pruning the flower growths on its back to keep it healthy. His outfit was a mix of Sularian and Irian, which meant it was practical and light weight. His long black hair was pulled back into a messy half-bun while he worked on the hydra. He looked up at Iris as she approached with the visitor. 

"I see you finally figured out how the door works…"

Rhenakos listened to Iris with complete disinterest. He didn’t really care about the others that the God had deemed worthy of aide. All the hunter cared about was whether or not the God would help him. Due to his disdain, he completely missed the pride that both Iris and Tar Eisalie held for their master and temple.

As they entered one of the archways, Rhenakos felt the change of atmosphere, and suddenly realized that the library itself had changed into a jungle-like form. The air was hot and humid, yet somehow the hunter knew that the books here would be protected from the moisture. He heard the sounds of the jungle all around him, though none of them seemed close or warranted any action.

Still, even with his attitude the way it was, he couldn’t help but feel impressed. If this was the kind of power he could wield in the future, he would sell his very soul to get it.

“Finally,” Rhenakos said as he walked towards where Adrajeen sat. The God was just a tad shorter than Rhenakos, but equally as muscular, if not more so than the malnourished hunter. In a straight fight, Rhenakos relied on his strength, which could match even the strongest of demons, yet he felt a presence that surpassed any demon he had met lying in wait beneath the God’s exterior calm.

Rhenakos knew he could not sense magic, so the fact that the God before him held such an imposing aura of power meant that he was out of his league in every sense. So of course, Rhenakos pointed his finger to Adrajeen, the God of Magic and Knowledge, and declared his intentions with absolutely no regard to his safety.

“I demand you release my hidden power!” Rhenakos called out.

Drae lifted a perfect black eyebrow in Rhenakos' direction before he turned back to the hydra and snipped a couple more flowers from its back before he tossed his sheers into the bucket he had been using to the collect the buds for alchemical purposes. He walked past Rhenakos pausing only to utter his answer to the hunter. 

"No."

He slung the bucket over his shoulder and walked it over to Iris. "Iris, could you please take these blooms to Angela. I think she might find that they have some great medicinal use," he said as he handed the bucket off to his avatar. 

Rhenakos had come a long way. He had traveled from area to area with the fewest of supplies, often endangering himself in multiple ways. It was pure luck and tenacity that kept him alive and well. But there was a little more than that, deeper down. His unbridled want for revenge kept him driving forward, and doing the impossible. His sheer impulse of will allowed him to pull of feats that even the most steadfast of heroes could only ever dream of. But, these impulsive decisions came at a hefty price. The fact was, Rhenakos was living on borrowed time.

His body was in shambles, held together with haphazard magics from passersby’s that took pity on him, or shoddy stitching that the hunter himself administered. To say the least, it was a miracle that he was standing so firmly.

All of this, though, was the farthest thing on his mind as he stood before the God. What mattered most was achieving his goal. So when his answer was ‘no’, Rhenakos thought of only one thing.

Show him. His eye narrowed, and he gripped his blade tight, drawing it in a smooth motion. Without any forethought, he launched himself at Lord Adrajeen. If the God would not give him the power, then the hunter would just have to take it.

Drae had just handed off the bucket of blooms when he heard Rhenakos' blade draw and his body shift in the grass. He didn't move. He didn't dodge. He didn't even blink as Iris took the bucket and walked calmly off, if not with a slightly hurried step. 

The blade hung suspended in the air, inches from the back of Drae's head. Power rippled off the God of Magic, and he turned to look at the beserker, a very unamused look on his perfectly groomed face. 

"That was your second mistake." He said flatly. He lifted a hand and simply flicked Rhenakos in the forehead. The force of the magic behind the flick blasted Rhenakos backwards about fifty feet in a explosion of dirt and earth, a deep path carved by his trajectory. 

As Rhenakos launched himself into the air, he started to calculate his next move. The hunter was already smiling like the lunatic he was, and knew that the sudden attack would surely catch the God off guard. But what next? A flurry of strikes? A feint and a low slash? The possibilities were endless. Beating a God wasn’t so hard. It was no different than fighting a demon. Just one step at a time. Just one strike after the other.

He blinked. He had noticed that he was suspended in air for the briefest of moments. Before his mind could really react, Adraejen uttered his words, and launched Rhenakos back with a simple flick to the forehead. Which, to Rhenakos, felt like a straight punch from a greater demon. The blow knocked him back into the dirt, leaving a small trail and crater where he landed.

To say that everything hurt was an understatement. He tried to to put weight on his arm, but found that it wouldn’t hold. Damn. Not again… He cursed as he tried his other arm. A bit of better luck. He managed to pulled himself to a sitting position.

“I-is that….that all…?” he said, semi-delirious. His vision was swimming as he slowly pushed himself up, finally standing. He swayed for a moment, and took a step forward. “It’s going to…going to take a lot more than that to…” His vision almost went dark again. Did something break again? He frowned. “Look here…I really….really don’t….” He growled.

“I really don’t like your face..” He fell forward, collapsing. That would be the last ting he remembered of that 'fight.'

Drae watched with a raised eyebrow and skeptic eyes as the demon hunter somehow managed to stagger to his feet and took a swaying step forward. His words were as empty as his body was of intelligence and something else. It was rather stunning. Drae walked over and knelt over Rhenakos as he finished off his last phrase before passing out. 

"Dumbass…" Drae muttered as he grabbed Rhenakos by the back of his shirt. His massive bulk meant nothing to the god of course, but Drae couldn't help but notice that had he not been a deity, he would have had trouble shifting Rhenakos unless he had been in his bear form. All brawn and next to no brains. His grand-daughter had chosen a real winner for sure. 

The Keeper dragged Rhenakos' unconscious ass from the conservatory and into the infirmary which connected directly to Elysium. There he had the healers patch up the hunter mundanely, setting his broken arm and other injuries. He left them to attend to some other duties, and when he returned to the infirmary, he had changed from his Sularian summer outfit to something more fitting of the autumn weather in the Jasumin Plains. It was Irian influence, fine mages robes and a purple silk vest, black shirt, pants and polished boots. His hair was immaculate, and in his hand was a glass of wine as he settled down into a chair and propped his feet up on the small table next to Rhenakos' cot, the hunters sword resting across his legs. He held a book in his hand, and read casually while he waited for the demon-hunter to regain consciousness.