Chapter 1.27 An Immortal Army
Elvira led me deeper into her palace, holding the new soul I had made the entire time. And she presented before me a problem.
"We need an army." She said bluntly, leading me through the winding halls. Artworks lined them, from multicolored tapestries to stone busts of various gods, spirits, and angels. For a moment she stopped at a window overlooking a large courtyard, spirits playing amongst the garden therein. A bouquet of lightflowers grew in the windowsill, their petals emitting a soft yellow light that danced along the smooth marble sill and reflected on the clear glass window. I said nothing for a time, drumming my fingers upon my thigh as I watched the courtyard below.
Behind me Elvira's two right-hands, Sol and Gilles, pulled up behind us, a respectful distance away but still within earshot. They were the only ones to have followed. We were the only ones in this entire wing.
Her palace struck me as unfortunately empty. The Heaven Realm truly had yet to fill up, especially when compared to the other Realms.
"An army?" I pressed, when Elvira remained silent for a touch too long.
"A force to fight against the Shadow. We have angels and powerful spirits, but the mortal races are as of yet too weak to really contend. In perhaps ten thousand years we will start to see more of them rise up to the required level, but we need something now. I am unsure if my siblings are aware, but besides the number of gods we have we are hilariously outnumbered. I counted at least twenty different dark angels – and that's not to mention the devil cultivators popping up in the Physical Realm, and even here, in the Heaven Realm. Sparsely populated though it is." Elvira said with a shake of her head, moving away from the window to lead the way once more. I followed, trailing behind with my hands clasped behind my back and a frown on my face.
I understood what she was saying, but I didn't see the urgency she clearly felt.
"The Shadow will not be ready to make a move any time in the next few millennia." I said. "You have time to work with the mortals, bring them up to the necessary levels. Immortals of all kinds will likely make up the brunt of your forces – alongside angels, holy beasts, and other such beings."
"I know," Elvira grumbled, wings flaring. "But who wants to come to heaven if it is empty?"
And at that, I had no answer. It would be hypocritical of me to reply, after all, as my first act as a god had been to create companions.
"What of the avians?" I asked.
"What of them? They are perfect, and beautiful, and I love them with all my soul. But they are meant to be companions to your Fae. They are mortals, and when they become cultivators they become more than just mortals. But what I want to create is more than that. Different than angels, different from mortals, different from gods…a celestial race. Immortal in body and spirit and directly tied to Heaven. If we are meant to embody an ideal, then these people would as well." Elvira explained slowly, as if unsure what words to use. I nodded along, twisting my hands together behind my back.
Was this a result of my rushing to create mortals? Was this something she should have created first, before they came into being? An immortal race? I looked back upon my creations and frowned. Just because I pretend to know what I'm doing doesn't mean I do…but no. In this case, I do not regret my actions, and think that it might even have been more ideal. As Elvira said; who wants to come to a world that is empty? We have gods and spirits, mortals were a logical next step. Elvira is only feeling this way because of pressure from the Shadow.
That doesn't make her incorrect, however.
"I cannot tell you what to do," I said with a shake of my head. Elvira paused and looked back at me, brows furrowed. I moved to stand beside her, laying a hand upon her shoulder and smiling softly. "You are the ruler of the Heaven Realm. The gods look to you for guidance and leadership, new angels pledge themselves to you, and mortals look to the heavens as a place of beauty and peace because of you. This decision is yours."
"But…" Elvira started. "I just…I don't know what the outcome will be. I have the people designed, the idea for it all laid out, and souls who may be willing to fulfill this purpose, but for all my supposed power I do not know what the ramifications of this will be. What will it say that I created an army? War is not an ideal. It is painful and hateful, it is no ideal." I was silent for a long moment, watching my daughter as she shifted in place, looking at me with a mixture of apprehension and hope. Doubt welled within her chest, visible to me as shades of grey clouding her otherwise brilliantly bright heart.
"I feel I must apologize," I admitted with a shake of my head. "For putting too much pressure upon you with the word 'ideal.'"
"Father?" Elvira said.
"Courage, honor, duty, nobility, are these not all ideals? To be courageous, and brave, but not seek a fight. To be noble and peaceful, but willing and able to defend what is yours, and those beneath you. It is better to be a soldier in a garden, then a gardener on the battlefield. And when war comes knocking, is it not noble to be prepared for it?" I said softly. "Do not worry about how I may judge you. You have done well, and I am proud of you. I will always be proud of you, dear. But heavy is the head that wears the crown, and you must be willing to make decisions that will not be liked by all. This may earn you no favors, it may be good, or bad. I can see it going both ways; what matters is you. You are the deciding factor for what it will be."
"Father, I…" Elvira started.
"Did you know, I was once an emperor?" I asked suddenly. Elvira blinked and furrowed her brows.
"Huh?"
"Don't be so surprised. I know Randus told you that I had past lives, the chatty gossip." I told her, amused.
"No, I…but an emperor?" she asked.
"Yes. It was my first life, actually. In that time the word didn't mean much to a mortal – though I do wonder if I ever was truly a mortal soul, or something more, trained to be who I am now." I mused, voicing a little inner doubt I had. Then, with a shake of my head, I continued. "In my time, I was forced to unite a number of tribes. Some joined me willingly. Some resisted, but eventually caved. And a few fought against me despite me never outright seeking war. In my time I was hated, loved, feared, and respected, yet the works I did lasted far beyond that life's time.
"Now I can look back and see that. My character was idealized by future generations; to the point I became more myth than person, some of my deeds forgotten or misconstrued. But nonetheless, my actions ended up being seen as defining, even if I became largely mythical. Now, you do not have the luxury of a mortal soul, able to escape duty through death. And I cannot guarantee that your decisions will eventually be seen as righteous or whatnot. But I will know the truth, and that they were made to be righteous. And you will know the same. And if you ever need advice and support, I will be there for you." I promised, laying a kiss on her forehead, my heart swelling with pride for her. "You did not come to me for advice. You came to me for permission, though you do not need it. Thank you for that."
Elvira wrapped me in a tight hug, shoulders shuddering for a brief moment before pulling away, expression soft yet determined.
"Thank you, Father. I won't keep you any longer." She said.
"It is my pleasure, dear," I said, ruffling her hair. "No matter how big you get, my little empress, you will always be my little girl. Now you go. I won't bore you with my stories any longer." Elvira giggled, caught herself, glanced at Gilles and Sol, then cleared her throat and started to turn away.
"Someday," she said, pausing. "Would you tell me about your past lives?"
"Of course," I agreed. She nodded then promptly started marching off, likely to go complete her army. Gilles and Sol followed after her, both nodding to me respectfully as they passed, and I turned my attention once more to my duties.
Only I held myself back from leaping right into work. There were others I had to visit, first. My children needed guidance, and as much as I truly needed to get back to work they were more important. With a heavy sigh I closed my eyes and forced myself to relax a bit.
Heavy is the head that wears the crown. Except I don't wear the crown.
I hold up the skies.
I found Keilan in his palace, working with a karmic king to further organize the influx of souls. His holy beast companion was elsewhere, likely at the mouth of the Valley, setting up an entryway, which left him largely alone.
He sat at his desk, a large dark-wood thing covered in stacks of paper and scrolls. Bookshelves of the same dark material lined the walls, covered in personal effects and various other knick-knacks. A flint knife sat on one of the shelves – I recognized it as the first one the Karae, his mortal race, had ever created. He was sentimental that way, like me; though I also saw a chunk of stone with a crude cave-drawing of him as well, which gave me a little chuckle. He looked far too evil there, with fangs and great-big horns.
"Mother," Keilan said suddenly, breaking me out of my observations of his workspace. He looked genuinely surprised to see me, and framed against the large windows behind his desk, cut the image of a properly intimidating businessman. The Realm Sun was setting, orange and red light reflecting off of the waters of the karmic ocean and giving him a red backdrop. The light from a chandelier glinted off his horns, giving them a yellowish glow, and his dark robes were tight and well-fitted.
"Hello, son," I greeted, drifting over to him, feet gliding across the dark-marble floors. Flecks of yellows and lines of white cut through the dark stone, giving it a stark contrast. "I came to see how you were doing. What troubles you and such,"
"Nothing." Keilan denied. "We are doing quite well." I raised an eyebrow at him, waiting patiently. He matched my gaze with a confident look, smiling politely as he waited for me to give in. I did not. He did. "Fine, fine. I'm just a little troubled by the Shadow, that's all."
"It is no shame to ask for help, Keilan," I said gently.
"I know." He nearly snapped, a little irritated. Good. That should make him more willing to loosen his tongue. "It's just…I do not wish to bug you. I of all people know that you are busy with the Four Realms."
"Despite meditating and/or sleeping for such great lengths of time?" I teased.
"Especially because of that. The works you create after exiting your restful sleep or enlightening meditations are always defining, and work to stabilize the Four Realms." Keilan said firmly. "I would not deny you that. Not for some silly questions."
"Thank you, Keilan," I said genuinely, throat closing up a little at his praise. But I pressed through it. "That means a lot to me. But that doesn't mean I can't spend time with my children, or help them out with their troubles. In fact, I am more than happy to spend time with you." Keilan nodded, looking away and biting his lip for a moment.
"The karmic realm is woefully undefended." He said bluntly. "Thankfully there seems to be little here that the Shadow wishes to assault, but I still fear an attack of some kind, and there isn't anything to ward such a thing off. I have been considering creating beings specifically for that purpose; defenders, beyond the purposes of the angels or holy beasts who may or may not pledge their allegiance to me."
"The karmic kings are not enough?" I asked. Those karmically aligned spirits – which were, somehow, different than angels and the like as they were more focused upon the workings of karma and being judges – were fairly plentiful in the Karmic Realm.
"They are excellent at what they do, but you do not ask an accountant to fight a war." Keilan said bluntly.
"An excellent point, but it sounds like you have the idea mostly decided. What do you need help with?" I asked.
"The form, and purpose. Imposing a singular task upon a soul is a terrible idea; even my karmic kings do more than just judge souls, and I would fear for their ability to be judges if they didn't. I need something that is both guard and…something else." Keilan mused. "Do I go for fear, for the shock and awe aspect? Mortals already fear me as some sort of judgement king, do I lean into that? Or do I focus my attentions elsewhere?"
"Show me what you have," I said, because, knowing Keilan, he already had a few ideas planned out. True to my expectations he waved his hand in the air, a number of sketches appearing in a swirl of black shadow. I snatched the first one out of the air and examined it, raising my eyebrows. This was the shape of a soul, using one of my truesouls as the base, of course, and guiding it in multiple directions with karmic strings. I frowned and switched to the next one, finding another variation of the same thing.
My frown deepened.
"I don't think you should focus so heavily upon karma," I admitted after looking through all the sketches. Keilan waited patiently for me to continue, his fingers steepled in front of his mouth. "You already have the Karae, karmic kings, and even your holy snake beast is karmically aligned. But despite your realm being the Karmic Realm, that is not all it is, is it? There are also memories stored here; psionic energy radiates from the ocean in waves. I would experiment a bit more with that." I told him.
"Focusing too much on one thing is detrimental," Keilan agreed, realization dawning in his eyes. "No wonder I couldn't make any headway in the designs. I was too focused on the karmic aspects. But if I add mental energy…" he trailed off, eyes glazing over, and I smiled.
"Sometimes it just takes another pair of eyes," I said. "As for the physical form, I leave that up to you. Fear, nobility, strength, shadows…the choice is wholly yours." He nodded in agreement, standing and straightening his robes.
"Thank you, Mother," he said. "That helps quite a bit, actually. I will get right on it."
"Glad I could be of help," I said, hesitating a bit. A large part of me wanted to stay longer, converse with my son a bit more, but…well, he clearly wanted to get back to work, and to chase this thread of creativity he was holding.
"Before you go," Keilan said, just as I started to step forward for my goodbye hug. "I was wondering…after all this is over, would you like to go boating with me? Like we used to, out on the karmic ocean." I nodded happily, giving him a big hug that he briefly returned before forcibly pulling away.
"I would love to. And don't think for a moment I won't hold you to that!" I exclaimed, stepping away and preparing to teleport. "Goodbye, Keilan. Don't ever be afraid to ask for help, or even if you just want to chat." But, knowing my son, he rarely wanted to just chat. It just wasn't his personality.
He bowed exaggeratedly as I teleported away, forcing out a quick chuckle. Now, where was Reika…?
Chapter 1.28 Kei is a Problem Child (Lovingly So)
Reika found me at the roots of the Life-Giving Tree, smoothing out a stress fracture I had found in the fabric of reality. It wasn't dangerous yet, but certain imbalances in the Realms' structure would cause such things to continually worsen. Namely, size, and the lack of the Lunar Star. For the amount of energy and powerful beings in the Four Realms, the amount of physical space the Four Realms took up was...woefully inadequate. This much power in this little space was putting pressure onto the fabric of reality, threatening to pop it like a balloon filled with too much air. The creation of the Lunar Star was the first step in solving this issue. Most of the physical realm was stardust, the distance between the few solar systems that had been made and the size of Pangaea not actually taking up much space, relatively speaking. The Heaven Realm and Karmic Realms were much the same, being relatively empty, and just...small in size.
This was one of the things my visions had revealed to me during my meditations, as well as observing the movements of gods and mortals alike. For regular, non-cultivator mortals, the size of the Realms was inconceivable. Their perspective was much smaller. For someone like Fang Xu it was different. Immediately after his ascension Pangaea probably seemed more planet-sized; still big, but manageable. He had only grown in power since, and that relative size had shrunk; I bet, if he put his mind to it, he could traverse all of Pangaea in a week. In the next few thousand years that timeframe was likely to shrink considerably. Shoot, the only reason he hadn't travelled to the Karmic or Heaven realms yet was, probably, because the technique to bypass the barrier between realms hadn't been invented yet. Otherwise I very much believed he would have gone to visit Keilan or Elvira in their palaces.
Even worse were the gods. Many could travel across the entirety of the Realms in a fraction of the time. They didn't even realize how small everything was; it was like a fish, swimming in a fishbowl. This was all they knew! My old universe was far more spacious, and I hadn't paid much mind to it all until now, busy as I was creating mortals, dealing with the Shadow...soon it would be time to focus on this.
"Mother, what are you doing?" Reika asked as I smoothed out the now-healed fracture, dusting my hands of literal stardust and pushing those thoughts out of my head. If I didn't start acting upon them soon the problems would only get worse, but I had some time to spend with my daughter.
"Just fixing something I found on my way to see you," I replied, turning around to smile at her. Kei stood beside her, tails flicking curiously as she peeked out from around her mother. She had a distinctly mischievous air about her, with paint smeared on her hands and arms, and she stuck her tongue out at me. "What are you doing way down here?"
"Kei wanted to show me something," Reika said in fond exasperation, ruffling her child's hair, right between the ears. Kei giggled and ducked her head, dancing away with a little grin.
"Ominous," I said, earning myself another giggle from the mother-daughter pair. "Can I come see, too?"
"Yeah!" Kei cheered. "Enough serious stuff! Let's play!" Reika nodded, gazing at her daughter fondly as she leapt through the trees, bounding from treetop to treetop as she led the way across Pangaea, apparently deciding she didn't want to teleport around. Reika opted for the much more dignified approach of flying through the skies, walking through the air as the ground distorted beneath us. Spirit beasts of all kinds darted about in the forest below, from monkeys and birds to snakes and larger creatures, such as deer or big cats. None seemed bothered by the presence of Kei or Reika, though quite a few glanced nervously in my direction – for no other reason than because I was still having trouble suppressing my power to the correct degree.
It was decidedly peaceful here, despite all the talks of war and other such things. The air was fresh, there was a storm brewing to the right, bringing with it the scent of rain, and the sun was shining above. A wind rustled the leaves of the great Tree, creating a discordant melody that took years to hear the first few tunes of – such was the enormity of said leaves. It was nothing less than a glorious sight.
"She's a mess," Reika said with a smile, watching as Kei swooped down from the trees to run across a stretch of open land, racing a few lightning-clad antelope as they thundered across the plains.
"There is no denying that." I agreed. "About as carefree as you can get, that one."
"I guess I am next on the docket for your wisdom?" Reika continued casually, forcing a snort of laughter out of me.
"Out of all my children, Reika, you are easily the most self-assured." I told her. "If you need my 'wisdom,' I am content in the knowledge that you will come to me for it – or the opposite, to knock some sense into me, if needed. No, I just wanted to come check up on you and Kei."
"Even over Alexander?" Reika asked doubtfully. I nodded.
"Even over Alexander. You know how long he takes to do things; he is a perfectionist to the highest degree. Love him to death, I do, but he is not without his doubts; such is his blessing, however. He will not make a move until he is quite certain about it." I explained. The perfect example of this was how he had yet to create his people - he wanted to be certain they were done right, and introduced at the right time. Reika flushed a little at the praise, giving me a quick little side-hug that I returned. The flowers in her hair sparkled happily as she pulled away, refocusing on Kei.
"…I think it still best to tell you," she said slowly. "That I am of the same mind of my siblings. The Physical Realm needs protectors beyond what we have currently, though I do not intend to make them fighters. More of a...supporting force, if you will. The mortals actually gave me the idea for it – there's a myth going about of a race of people who live atop the Tree; that it is a paradise up there, a place for gods and immortals. I will likely do something like that; the climate of the Tree's canopy is too harsh for a standard race, and need something sturdier."
"Well if you would ever like my input, feel free to ask. But I know how much you love your secret projects," I said, pointedly looking at Kei, who was now standing atop a mountain with snow coating her tails. Reika lightly slapped my shoulder, huffing in amusement; I laughed, and the conversation continued as we sped across Pangaea. We spoke of little things, of big things, and laughed at each other's puns, right up until I realized where Kei was leading us.
"Oh that sly little fox," I grumbled, shaking my head and teleporting the rest of the way. Reika followed, appearing beside me above Dei's city; Manu Ti, the city of cultivators.
It was no ordinary city. Fang Xu's formation expertise had helped them create something truly awe-inspiring; a flying island. The buildings of Manu Ti were clean and gleamed in the sun, wet from a recent rainstorm, people milling about on the large island that floated above a massive lake. Four great chains, covered in moss and shining with the light of formations, stretched in the cardinal directions to the shores of the lake, where they sunk into the earth and kept the city bound.
Mortal towns and cities had already started to pop up around the bases of the chains, both for the protection they provided and to keep said chains safe from tampering. Cultivators themselves flew about through the air, the technique for flying having been recently discovered, or dashed up the sides of the miles-long chains, each link a mile thick. Thousands of people had gathered together to build this. Tens of millions and counting, now called it home, and be they Avian, Karae, Elemental, or Fae, all had a place here. Dei made sure of that, and Fang Xu kept the peace as the first Karmic Immortal.
Sects from all over this quarter of Pangaea pledged their allegiance to Manu Ti; Dei had successfully created the first true nation, his reach extending far beyond his capability to travel thanks to Fang Xu and the rapidly expanding network of communication and teleportation formations. Those few warlords who claimed tiny pieces of land did not hold a candle compared to this.
"I think I know what Kei is doing," I said, watching her as she ran across the waters of the lake, completely invisible, and leapt up onto the flying island in a single great bound. "She's going to make Dei jealous." Said man was sitting in his office in the center of town, still the elected city lord despite not being the most powerful qi cultivator, sipping on a glass of whiskey and reading a report about shipping materials.
"How?" Reika asked.
"Dei hasn't ascended to immortality yet. Come to think of it, neither has Celene. It's only a matter of time for her, though, especially with Fang Xu's help." I replied. A cultivator of her caliber, having reached the throat chakra level of qi cultivation – I forget what the local term for that is, Soul Formation or something? I dunno – could live for thousands of years already…but that was not immortality.
"Isn't Kei already immortal? She's my child." Reika asked. Kei sprinted through the city, snagging a golden apple from a street stall that was never noticed to have gone missing, aiming for Dei's office. "She's not going to go through a trial of ascension, is she?"
"There's a trial for every type of immortal ascension, and technically speaking, while Kei is immortal, she isn't a god." I said simply. "Qi, fleshly body, mind, karmic, Dao…every kind. The exact number escapes me, but it only continues to increase. I suspect Kei is going to go through as many as possible, just to piss him off. And would you look at that? There she goes now."
Kei leapt through Dei's open window, skidding across his desk and sending papers flying; the man spluttered, whiskey spilling all over his robes and lightning crackling about him as he reacted to what he saw as a sudden attack. He leapt to his feet, fists raised, then froze at seeing Kei, his expression morphing into one of annoyance.
"Kei!" He barked. "You little shit, look at what you made me do! That was hundred-year-old fire whiskey!"
"Hey, Dei," Kei said, winking at him. "Watch this."
And with that she promptly leapt out of the window again, light radiating off of her as she activated her qi immortal ascension trial. Clouds formed overhead, dark and ominous, the people of Manu Ti looking up worriedly as they felt the massive amounts of qi gathering there. For a brief moment light cracked through the clouds, shining down to form a golden bridge that stretched a mile across the empty sky, like a rainbow. The qi of the world shifted, swirling about it in a maelstrom as the trial attempted to make something difficult for Kei to complete. Lightning crackled from the gilded railings, fire descended from the skies to coat itself over Kei's skin, and ice slicked the bridge itself, seeking to freeze one's feet at every step.
She just giggled at the sensations, skipping her way across the bridge while enduring roaring thunderbolts from heaven and the burning flames, ice doing little to cause her pause. Reika gripped my arm tightly in that first little bit, worry for her child overcoming her knowledge that Kei would be more than fine, but quickly relaxed when it became clear that was the case. Dei watched on with gritted teeth, seemingly more annoyed that she'd chosen to do this here, rather than her finishing the immortality trial.
Kei hummed a little song to herself as she went, absorbing the qi of heaven and earth into her body as she reached the end of the bridge, her personal power only incrementally increasing. The bridge started to fade away and she looked down sadly, almost disappointed it was over…
Then a new one appeared, as Kei activated her fleshly body ascension trial.
The chains of Manu Ti rattled this time, winds howling in the skies and threatening to tear things apart – Fang Xu, accompanied by his wife, Celene, shot into the skies from their home, flying directly toward Kei. Gravity assaulted her this time, trying to weigh her down onto the bridge, pressing into her from all sides. A great wind blew against her, trying to force her back; she took this bridge with the same ease as the previous.
"Kei!" Fang Xu shouted over the winds. She turned to look at the karmic immortal, smirking and hands on her hips. Fang Xu attempted to reach her, pushing himself through the winds, but the laws of the heavenly Dao rebuffed him – only Kei could completely this trial. "Stop! You're disrupting the formations!" That gave Kei pause and she blinked, turning to look at the great chains of Manu Ti. True to Fang Xu's words, the sheer amount of power being thrown about and absorbed by Kei in the Ascension Trial was causing the formations to flicker, threatening to plunge the city into the lake below.
"Stupid girl," Dei grumbled, turning away, even as I chuckled to myself.
I wouldn't have allowed that to happen, but it was good to let Kei see the consequences of her own actions sometimes.
With a yelp Kei sprinted the rest of the way across the bridge, forcing the trial to end before leaping up into the sky, away from the city so she didn't accidentally absorb too much of the ambient qi. Black pus leaked from a few of her pores, toxins and impurities that she had built up within herself thoroughly expunged then promptly burned away; her bones condensed, her blood ran purer…
In a regular mortal, the effects would be more pronounced. Kei was absolutely cheating here, and the improvement was incremental at best. Slowly she fell back to the earth, aiming for Manu Ti while waving happily at myself and Reika. We waved back, invisible as we were to the mortals below, while I furrowed my brows.
"Did she just want us to come watch her ascend?" Reika asked.
"Must have." I reasoned.
"Why here though?" she pressed, shaking her head. "She could have done it atop the Tree. Why did she even have to go through immortal ascension?"
"Those weren't designed for her," I said with a shrug. "Qi and fleshly body? Neither are a problem for Kei. The only reason she has not achieved what one might call godhood is because of this right here," I laid a hand over my heart as I said this, for emphasis. "She needs to figure out her own Dao, her own divine domain, before she can properly 'ascend.' As for why here? I assume it has something to do with Celene and Dei. She's grown quite fond of them over the past few centuries." I said.
She'd often come bug Dei while I had been meditating. I wasn't sure why, but I figured it might be because he can see through her illusions.
"You are awfully interested in this mortal," Reika noted, not accusingly. I smiled as I turned away, Kei chattering away happily at Celene, Dei, and Fang Xu below – she'd wanted Reika to watch, but apparently didn't want to talk about it afterwards. Kids.
"He has potential." I allowed. "Especially Fang Xu and Celene. Dei…I worry about him. There's a fifty-fifty chance he won't make it to Immortality. His chosen path is much more difficult than most, after all."
"Which path is that? I haven't honestly been paying much attention to him in particular," Reika asked, stretching a bit.
"Kei's path, of course. The path of the Dao," I said. "Goodbye, Reika. I'll be going to visit Alexander, now, so I'll tell him you said hi. And remember to ask for help if you need it." And with that, I teleported away.
Even after a thousand years, Dei still wasn't sure what to think of Kei. The mischievous fox-girl was different than any other being he'd know, but both Fang Xu and Celene seemed fond of her, so he tolerated her presence. Still, as he watched her play in the meadow with Fang Xu and Celene's children, he couldn't help but find her…endearing. Despite nearly sending Manu Ti crashing into the lake below with her stupid antics.
Yet despite all her faults she had the Light about her. Her antics largely brought smiles, playing the clown and the fool because she enjoyed seeing people laugh, just as she loved to laugh. Many times said fooling around came when someone (himself, mostly) was grumpy, and enough prodding brought them out of their funk and into a smile, her enthusiasm relentless. There was nothing to be wary about personality wise. Dei wasn't sure what to think about her because she was so different from him. And she knew the green-eyed Man and Woman, whom he had not seen in too long.
"Tell me, Dei," Fang Xu said from beside him. He had his wife, Celene, wrapped up in a hug, his chin resting atop her head, as they leaned back against one of the many poplar trees that lined the park. The joyful screeches of their children rang through the air and Dei found himself thankful that Immortals like Fang Xu, and soon to be Celene, had trouble conceiving. Five children was enough – even if they were spread out over the course of the past thousand years. "Have you…found anyone yet?" Fang Xu finished his thought and Dei furrowed his brows.
"What my idiot husband means to say is if you've managed to get yourself a date." Celene clarified, and Dei groaned.
"Not you too," he grumbled, folding his hands into the sleeves of his robe. "This is one of the few times I get a break. Don't ruin it with talk of heirs." Fang Xu and Celene chuckled and fell silent, the trio watching Kei play with the kids for a long, long time. Finally, unable to bear the silence, Celene spoke once more.
"Have you thought about trying your ascension trial yet?" she asked. Dei scowled and shook his head, glancing over at the couple. Neither were watching him, gazes fixated on their kids and Kei. Never before had he seen Celene look so happy, tucked up close to her husband – who was a true gentle giant. Despite his broad shoulders, flaming red hair, and relatively stern features, the man hardly ever raised his voice in anger, let alone fought.
That fight against what Fang Xu called dark angels was the only time Dei had seen him raise his weapon, actually. His hands were meant for creating, not destroying, and he'd become an immortal for it, dim golden light radiating from him as proof of his ascension.
Dei looked down at his own hands, and couldn't help but feel them stained in blood. He'd built a legacy for his people. Guided them through rough and troubled times, built this city, and continued to do his best to rule them fairly. But he'd had to kill, and fight, and struggle to get here – he was the leader, a great and powerful being who had to always know what he was doing, even when he didn't. And he couldn't stop. Not yet.
There was still something out there, building in the distance. He could feel it in his bones. The worst was yet to come. All he wanted to do was rest, but he had to stand tall, and firm, and proud, and pretend to be something great and mighty…
He'd had these self-doubts ever since he'd touched the divine soul. It had killed his ego, the arrogance that led him as far as it had, even if he didn't show it outwardly. Yes, he had done all this, but was it enough? Would it be enough?
"Dei?" Celene asked, and he blinked, realizing he'd been silent for far too long. She and Fang Xu looked at him worriedly and he flashed them a small smile.
"Sorry, got lost in thought there," he said, pushing himself off of the tree he'd been leaning against. "I've got to get back to work, though. The city won't run itself." Fang Xu said something but he ignored him, turning and working his way through the trees. This little park was beautiful, if he would stop and look at it. Flowers from all over Pangaea grew in ordered rows, trees of different kinds growing strong and tall, mosses and ferns coating the floor to give everything a lush, green look.
He hadn't talked to the divine soul in a long time, he realized. But he found he didn't need to. Despite it killing his arrogance and ego, he still had everything he was. He still had the experience of over a thousand years of putting one foot in front of the other, always moving forward. And as he looked inward at his own soul, he realized he knew what this feeling was. He knew what was coming, this tension in the air.
War.
Dei let out a breath, vaguely aware of Kei following him, attempting to trick him with illusions. They had never worked, and they never would. And though what he thought next was a little bit too serious a thought for something as innocuous as Kei's pranks, it was still one he had. She would not dissuade him from his path. Nothing would.
And he would prepare for war if he must. To protect those that stand behind him. To protect those who stand below him. To aid those who look down from above.
That is who he was.
Chapter 1.29 Floating the River
Alexander and I went swimming in the Spirit River. Energy and souls alike drifted by as we floated along, watching the turning of the Realms and traversing the entirety of the river. We started in the Heaven Realm.
Much of the time we spent in comfortable silence. We watched as spirits of all kinds manipulated the energy already existing in the land itself or was produced by souls – many of whom didn't even notice our presence – twisting it and putting it to work, following tributaries and creeks splitting off from the main River. We observed dark spirits, small things, not in service to the Shadow, as they milled about a village of elementals, feeding off of the negative emotions they produced, even as other spirits redirected or fed off of the more benign energies.
Alexander pointed out a herd of spirit beasts as we drifted by, nearing the edge of the Heaven Realm and the barrier between realms. I drifted over to watch them with him. It was a herd of magical elk – moss hung from their fur and antlers, earth-attuned qi coursing through their veins. The leader was a majestic creature, with large, fourteen point antlers that had multicolored gems embedded into the bone. It glanced up at us as we passed, Alexander flashing his aura once to make himself known, and nodded his respect even if he couldn't see us. He was an old, wise beast. A King amongst his kind, in spirit alone.
"The spirit beasts could use a better guiding force." Alexander said. "Actually, let me rephrase that – they could use a more suitable guiding hand. They are too easily manipulated."
I nodded my agreement. "That is an oversight on my part. I expected more souls like that one to have appeared amongst the beasts by now, or at least, quicker than they have been." I indicated the bull elk as I said this; for its soul was wise and strong, indeed. There had been nothing that could twist and incentivize a beast to attack in great hordes the way the spirit beasts did, back in my old universe. I had not been expecting many of them to be so easily manipulated here…though part of the problem, I felt, was also the sapient spirit beasts and their ability to fairly easily direct the less intelligent ones.
"I would not call it an oversight, simply unexpected." Alexander reasoned. "I have considered asking Kei to aid me in this, however. It might do her some good to have some responsibility."
"You should tell her that." I told him. "I know she would love to spend more time with her Uncle Alexander."
And we drifted along, simply enjoying the sights and life. Of all my children, Alexander was the easiest to do this with. Elvira and Keilan were too busy in their minds, Reika too busy in her heart. Only Alexander could consistently still himself enough to appreciate the Realms in a quiet, thoughtful way. It was an important thing to do, in my opinion. There was a beauty in stillness of body and soul, of simply letting the noise of creation wash over you.
Spirits began to truly circle us as I stopped hiding the entirety of my presence, my comfortable aura drawing them toward us as they danced about in the river like little faeries. Alexander collected a little water spirit, an amused rumble echoing through him as it danced and played, only to flit away as we neared the barrier between realms. Most of the spirits stayed behind as we flowed through the greyish barrier of energy, a few souls entering the cycle of reincarnation, or spirits pushing energy along the river sticking through it.
I hardly noticed the barrier anymore, in fact it couldn't even be called a barrier at all to me, but weaker beings had trouble crossing the chaotic meeting place of the Realms. Nothing grew in this dense, energetic space, and though spirits and souls could fairly easily cross it with the aid of the river, in other places or for physical material it was…difficult, to say the least.
Once in the physical realm, we drifted away from Pangaea. Individual streams in the spirit realm, tributaries and creeks, flowed to and from the myriad planets outside of the main hub of activity in the realm. Light flowed to and from the nigh-on a hundred suns in the Realm, circling Pangaea, and into each of the individual planets therein. Gas giants spun happily, nebulas swirled, and asteroids and comets hurtled through space. Mortals pranced about on habitable planets, some even containing only Avians, Fae, Elementals, or Karae, while darker spirits congregated on the non-habitable planets. Positive energy was more uncomfortable for them, so they tended to come together on darker, less energetically powerful planets, like Venus would have been.
It was here we paused for a bit, and I showed Alexander how to make a sun. Stardust swirled together to ignite in my palm as I explained the process in detail, urging Alexander to do the same – he did not, of course, but that was to be expected. He would practice the method in his own time, in his own way, and would only show me once he had perfected it. We did, however, spend some time creating a few planets; I even caused a meteor filled with the stuff of life to crash onto one of the barren rocks, to jumpstart a more natural, non-enhanced evolution of life. There would have to be a more casual method of spreading life than me taking time out of my day to spread it to every sustainable planet, eventually.
"The Realms are cramped," Alexander murmured, staring at the stardust that pervaded the edges of the Physical Realm. "I can feel it in my bones. There are too many powerful beings, in too small a space. What else do you plan to do, besides create the Star?" I smiled and clasped my hands behind my back, watching the accelerated process of a solar system forming come into being before me.
With my aid, it went far faster than it had any right to. Millions of years were condensed down into a fraction of the time – but it took power I should be saving to create the Star. I just needed to show Alexander this, for whatever reason.
"You tell me," I said softly, turning to my son. The great white dragon adopted a thoughtful look on his face, curling his great body up as he pondered the question. All at once it seemed to come to him, and he smiled at me.
"Seeds." He muttered. "You mentioned seeds, before. Could it be, perhaps, that you intend to spread the seeds of the Life-Giving Tree?" I nodded, making a motion with my hand that urged him to continue, to unravel what I knew he already suspected. He was the most observant of my children, after all. "Not just the Tree. You intend to spread seeds of the Mountain, the Valley, even the River."
"Yes," I said with a beaming smile. "Excellent as always, Alexander. The key features of the Realms are not as inanimate as their names may appear – each represents more than just a simple fixture, and each can be spread. The first ones will remain the biggest, the most eternal…but others will spread out, creating new Mountains and Valleys, Rivers and Trees, spreading outward and creating more space for all beings. A mountain range, a forest, the valleys between mountains, and the river connecting it all." Though the addition of the karmic ocean, also known as the Sea of Memories, did put a bit of a twist on the imagery I had conjured, it still fit in my opinion.
"And all will still be connected, though they may seem separate." Alexander reasoned. I nodded my head. "Good. That is good. I cannot wait to see it, Father."
"See it? My dear boy, you and your siblings will be helping me with it," I said. "It's time you all started to take on some of the duties of creation, too. In fact, I believe it is overdue that you all explore that facet of your power. It is the next stage of your growth." I told him, drifting along the River, heading to the Karmic Realm.
"And the expansion of the Realms will give us all more room, for that growth." He added.
"For the amount of energy within the Realms now, it should be easily eight times bigger than it is. Such a small size is cramping and stunting all of our growths, and it cannot last. I get the feeling, though, that it will not be too much of an issue for too much longer…it will only take time to deal with." I reasoned, scratching my chin and speeding up a bit. We'd spent less than a month of real-time doing this, but I was getting the itch to move, to do things. I could only put off what was coming for so long, and that time was fast approaching.
Alexander followed me, though on our way, we passed by the land of Pangaea. In many ways it was still an odd thing to see, floating in the depths of space. A great chunk of land teeming with life, a massive tree growing from the center, with nothing but space and stars beyond. The Tree cast its shade over the land itself, but paradoxically did not block the light it needed from the Sun, reaching high up into the air as if to touch the Heaven Realm above while its roots stretched down, dangling as if to touch the Karmic.
And we drifted on.
Only once we reached the Karmic Realm did we break free from the River, diving into the Sea of Memories to take a look at that which was contained within. He showed me a number of his favorite memories, ones he'd stumbled upon in his time here in the Karmic Realm, deep beneath the surface of the ocean. There, in the black waters of the past, lay echoes of memories given momentary, physical form. A hut here, dilapidated and empty. A stone there, drifting down to the bottom…one that had long since been ground into dust by a flowing river.
Alexander showed me a sunrise, flickering beneath the waves. The bright oranges and reds caught clouds in the sky of the planet Cradle, before any life had been brought there. No spirit, no life had born witness to it; but Alexander had. And he cherished that fleeting moment. I showed him the journey of a stone – it had tumbled all the way from the top of a mountain to the bottom of an ocean over the course of a millennium…the things that little pebble had seen.
And so we explored, until, eventually, we pulled ourselves out of the past to sit upon a little sandy island, poking out of the Ocean. It would likely be washed away soon, time obliterating the memory it represented, only for it to resurface at another time and place. I built a fire, and made a pie. It was only then, in the comfortable silence that followed, that Alexander spoke about what troubled him.
"I will not be introducing my People into the Four Realms until after this little spat of ours is over." He rumbled. I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye, taking a bite of the fluffy pastry I had conjured. It was delicious, and sweet, the cherries within perfectly cooked, but just making one out of thin air didn't have the satisfaction of making a pie from scratch. Perhaps I should do that soon, too.
"Continue," I urged him, through a mouthful of food. Alexander swallowed his own slice in one big gulp, too distracted to enjoy the sweet. Which, considering his sweet-tooth, said a lot.
"I have mulled it over quite a bit. Perhaps it is selfish of me, but I cannot, in good conscience, introduce my People into a Realms assailed by discord. I will not create them in a time of war, for the sole purpose of containing that war." He grumbled. "Elvira and Keilan have had this idea of an immortal people for some time, and while their intentions are noble, I will not follow that same path. I fear rushing my creations."
"There is wisdom in your words, Alexander." I replied. "And I am sure your siblings will understand."
"Is it right, though?" he asked me, sounding well and truly worried. I sat back a bit, setting my pie to the side – it floated in the air beside me, so as not to get any sand from the island on it – and looked heavenward. "Am I being selfish? Should I create a People now, to aid my siblings in our cause? It is a fool question to ask you, after telling you to stay out of our fight, but I need advice, Father."
"Right is an insufficient word, for there is no 'right' or 'wrong' in this case." I said, slowly. "And what is wrong with being a little selfish? Even we gods have to look out for ourselves sometimes. Both extreme ends of the spectrum – complete selfishness and complete selflessness – are harmful in their own ways. Your decision, Alexander, is made from the heart, out of care for your People's future. I have faith that you will do what is best for yourself and your soon-to-be People – your doubt is a fleeting thing. Do not dwell upon it." He hummed, tilting his head to gaze heavenward alongside me.
"Thank you," he said, after a moment. He settled into the sand after that, his doubts not gone, but eased by my words.
"It is my pleasure, son." I told him. We were silent for a moment longer before I stood, dusting off my robes and running a hand through my still-wet hair. The pie I had been eating vanished with a wave of my hand, and I stretched and yawned. Had it really only been a month or two since we started drifting through the Realms? We really had been going slow, but I had things to do. Most importantly, one thing. I could no longer put off amassing power for the Lunar Star.
"I will take you to your mediation chambers," Alexander said, rising to his full height, shaking droplets of water from his scales. I furrowed my brows and opened my mouth to ask how he knew that was where I was headed, but he quieted me with an amused look. "In many ways, you are predictable, Father. Your true body visited each of us in turn, giving us individual time with you. That usually means you are going to have to go into secluded meditation for a time, or have some work you need to focus your full attention on that will take a while." I chuckled and scratched the back of my head awkwardly. Was I really now, so predictable?
"One of these days," I said, instead of confirming his accusation. "I would like to share with you some of my memories, of my past. Not now, but soon."
"I would like that very much, Father," Alexander said with a bow of his head. I took the opportunity to lean forward and rub the base of his horns, where he liked it, and together we shot off into the sky, toward my palace.
Chapter 1.30 Fate
Alexander floated beside me as I walked through the art-adorned halls of my palace, the god of fire and goddess of water clinging to his back like little monkeys. They had found him the moment we returned to my palace, having been doing something in my garden, and immediately latched onto him with happy cries. I could see the urge to chatter at him tugging at the two gods, but they respectfully remained quiet, letting Alexander and I finish our conversation.
"Are you sure about what you must do next, Father?" Alexander asked.
"Yes." I said. "I must enter deep seclusion. Divine incarnations will be out and about as long as possible, but the Lunar Star must be created. They will likely be forced to disappear after a few thousand years once the power amassed becomes too great, and my full attention required. Much of their time, I suspect, will be spent creating more suns in the Physical Realm or guiding other gods on how to do so."
"I see..." he trailed off, the two little gods on his back listening intently. I smiled at the couple – funny how two seemingly opposite beings found love in one another. "We will take care of the Realms while you are away. Do not fear."
"I trust you all, even if I won't truly be 'away.'" I told him with a smile, then grew more serious. "The Shadow will make its move while I am secluded. Be careful with it. Sorry to jump right back into meditations right after I just came out, but…well. It must be done. Too much is driving me back into my meditations – I must see what my visions held, I must empower myself further…"
"I know. The Enemy will not gain a single foothold in the Four Realms if I have anything to say about it." Alexander rumbled firmly. I smiled at him, but did not correct him on his use of the word "enemy." Part of me still struggled to believe the Shadow was an 'enemy' in the truest sense of the word; whose only goal was our total annihilation. Something about it felt…different. It surely had ill intentions, however there was something strange about what I could feel from said intentions. More than that, from its connection to me. Something I needed to clarify. Something tied to fate, and the word 'Shadow.'
Either way, though, it was causing problems and had to be stopped. Understanding its motives was important, but so was putting a stop to it.
"I believe you," I told him instead of voicing my doubts. "Now! Did your spirit friend find Gilles for me?" I'd asked him to find Gilles for me just before we returned to the palace together, and he'd promptly send one of the few spirits that hung around him running off in search of the shadow god.
"Yes. He and Randus should be waiting for you in your meditation chambers." Alexander said. "Will you be wanting me to soothe the stress fractures in the Realms, while you are busy?"
"That would be a great help," I said, nodding. It was Alexander who was being stunted the most by the Four Realm's lack of size. He needed more room to swim. "As I have said, it won't be for a while yet that those fractures start to really cause problems, but as the saying goes, the best time to plant a tree is twenty years ago. The second best time is now. I will plant the seeds of expansion now, so that when the Lunar Star is born the Realms will be more ready for the next stage. Until then I will mitigate things by creating more suns in the Physical Realm, and promoting the growth of the primordial chaos." I said.
"Then you had best get to it. Enjoy your nap, Father," he said with a knowing smile. I slapped his side playfully, both knowing that my 'naps' were anything but, and he promptly raced off, back to his own 'secret projects.' The god of fire and goddess of water waved happily as they were carted off by Alexander, a gesture which I returned. Only when they were gone did I frown and speed up my pace to the meditation chamber, not quite willing to teleport as of yet.
I had only told part of the truth to Alexander. In fact, none of my children, save Randus, were aware that one of the reasons I was going into secluded mediation was to force the Shadow's hand. If anything had been revealed to me as of late, it was that the creation of the Lunar Star was a key event in the Shadow's plans; the moment I created it, I would 'win.' It would take me another nine thousand or so years to amass the amount of power necessary, assuming I did little more than focus on just that. And while that might seem like a long time, the Four Realms was already millions of years old.
Nine thousand years wasn't much in comparison. The Shadow wasn't ready for all-out war, which meant it would be forced to attack at a suboptimal time, and I was done playing games. It was time for the Shadow to step into the light and let me see it, whether it liked it or not.
"Let's get to it, then," I muttered as the doors to my meditation chamber came into view. The great, grey stone doors were plain, lacking any adornment, and as they swung open they revealed a room that was much the same. Gilles stood within, the pale god of darkness and shadows studying where I sat, the grey stone transformed into a brilliant, shining shade of blue. "Gilles." I said, startling the young man.
He jumped and leapt away from the dais as if he had been doing something wrong.
"Lady Matriarch," Gilles said with a bow. Was that how he usually called me? I get called so many things I get confused. Father or Mother works best for me, but Matriarch or Patriarch, I suppose, does work. At least it's better than Your Majesty.
"Did you bring what I asked?" I asked, stepping into the chamber.
"I did. Here," he said, holding out his hand. Contained in a small glass vial imbued with his divine power was a million tiny void shards, sitting together like grains of black sand. I made a grasping motion with my hand, the vial flying over to land in my palm where I could observe it closer.
Yes. This should do nicely.
"Thank you, Gilles. What have you done with the rest of the shards?" I asked.
"I've been researching them." He said, avoiding meeting my eyes, once again as if he was hiding something. I raised an eyebrow at him, waiting for him to continue. After a moment he cleared his throat, slicking his greasy black hair back with one hand and shifting from foot to foot nervously. "I've been studying their interaction with the material and immaterial world. That the Enemy is using the Void as a method to hide itself suggests there is more to its existence than simply to be an anathema to creation. The Void can be used in different ways, the specifics onto how, however, elude me for the moment."
"Very astute, and in line with what I have been able to discover," I praised. "But be careful. The Void can be corruptive. The rogue spirit that attacked, for example, was twisted by the solitude of the Void; it can drive one mad. You should talk with others about this occasionally. Perhaps Keilan. Or Elvira, or even your brother, Sol." I mused, scratching my chin.
"I, uh, I will. Be careful, I mean," Gilles said with another soft bow. "If I may ask, what are you going to do with those?" he gestured to the shards in my hand, and I smiled, popping open the lid.
"This." And I promptly downed the entire bottle, bits and pieces of Void swirling about within my stomach. My power wrapped itself around each individual piece, keeping them separated and preventing them from doing any harm to my internals. As my body was also my soul, flesh and soul merged into one cohesive being, I had finer control over the shards when they were within my body than without. It would be necessary for what I had in mind. Gilles gaped, and I smirked. "That will be all, Gilles. Thank you,"
"Yes, Honored Matriarch," he said, and promptly teleported away. I stood in silence for a moment, waiting for my silent observer to reveal himself, but impatience won out.
"Randus." The butler-god of Dreams appeared at his name, bowing and with both a bottle of whiskey and pot of steaming tea at the ready. I smiled gratefully at him, but now was not the time, much as I wished it was. "Keep track of the dreams. You may not have the raw power of many of the other gods, but your specialty does not lie there."
"I know, Ma'am. You needn't worry. Would you like me to leave these here?" Randus asked, gesturing to the bottles. I shook my head.
"No, thank you. I fear I will not have the chance to enjoy them." I said. Randus nodded, bowing deeper and dropping the drinks back into dreamland.
"I will keep watch. No one will disturb you." He said, and promptly marched out of the room, the doors slamming shut behind him.
That's not what I'm worried about, I thought with a heavy sigh, feeling the runes carved inside of the stone coming to life. Formations divine in nature ignited across the entirety of the room, keeping my power trapped within and preventing others from entering. Space and time itself were locked down in here; only I had the ability to freely move in and out. Here, I could meditate in peace. Here, I would work in secret.
With that in mind I sat cross-legged on my stone pedestal, evening my breath and closing my eyes. The void shards remained separated for now, but once I had a clearer idea of what I needed I would forge them to suit my purposes. But for now, they had to wait. Pieces of my divine power splintered off at my will, incarnation spreading through the Four Realms to do my work.
They were limited in power, but clear in their purposes.
"Alright, Fate." I muttered. "It's just you and me now. Show me what you've got."
In the first thousand years, I meditated. My incarnations ran amok; creating suns in the physical realm and teaching various gods how to do the same; nurturing seeds in the iconic features of the Realms, the holy mountain, the life-giving tree, the karmic valley, and the spirit river; nurturing mortals and guiding my angels; soothing stress cracks, and a thousand other major and minor issues.
In the second thousand, my mind started to drift, Fate revealing itself to me in cryptic tones. Not once did I look into my own fate, for only a fool claims to know their own fate, even if that being is a god. Instead I looked at others, and the nature of fate as a rule. Keilan helped me quite a bit with this, unaware though he was of this fact. And many things began to reveal themselves to me.
In the third thousand, I recalled all my divine incarnations save five.
In the fourth, the last of my incarnations vanished, and I sunk deep into my meditations and power-gathering.
My will noticed the shadow moving, now, desperately rushing to build up its forces while my children did the same. But it was only one being compared to the entire might of the divinities within the Four Realms. Though the Shadow had more time to prepare, the big four would be ready for it.
More time passed, and I came to a realization. The future of the eight pillars laid itself out for me, each slot that needed filling sitting clear as day before my eyes. What was once a hint of an idea, a vision of the future, was now far more solid – and this war provided an opportunity for certain souls to grow, gathering the potential to fill these slots. Though that is all it was; potential, and many things would stand in the way of such a fate. Ironically, blocked by the fate of another.
Fate and destiny were odd things, it seemed. They were ephemeral and nebulous, more a result of one's own decisions than some grand design of my own making. In fact I had very little hand in "deciding" someone's fate because of this fact, only giving a hand here and there where it was needed. As such it could be changed, for nothing was written in stone.
Heat blossomed in my chest, radiating from me as my will took hold of the void shards floating within, forcing them together. My heart was the fire, filling it with passion. My soul was the forge, containing the heat, directing it to the shards. And my will was the hammer, beating them into place. Fate guided my hand. Balance drove my actions. That which I had to make formed within the depths of my soul, imbued with the powers of the void, and my own essence.
And, satisfied, I fell once more into the depths of my meditations, watching, amassing power, the depths of which strained against the fabric of my being, uncontrolled and uncontained. There would be a time to intervene. I could feel it in my bones. But it had to be perfect. So I waited.
I waited to hear the call of war.
Chapter 1.31 Interlude: The Shadow of the Four Realms
The Shadow remembered the first breath of creation. That great sigh that rippled through the Void, bringing with it awareness and a litany of souls. It had been born before that first breath, leaving it, a few lesser souls, and the Great One alone in the Void. The Void, which harmed neither it nor the Great One, yet would destroy the lesser souls in an instant. Curiosity had driven it to explore the empty vastness some, though it never strayed too far from the Great One as They toyed with those beings They had created.
Instinctually, it knew the two were connected, it and the Great One. It could see hints of memories that were yet to be revealed, feelings that were yet to be unleashed within that mighty being. And it celebrated the fact that none knew the Great One better than itself.
The Shadow had remained silent through it all, content in the silent solitude, content with the company it kept. The aura of the Great One was loving and careful, gentle in its actions and nature, embracing all before it. Joyous, however, had been the time which the Great One had created more companions, four greater souls than those who had first been born – yet lesser than itself – that clambered about the Great One in their excitement at life. The Shadow of that time, though it had yet to take that mantle, had found itself annoyed by the Four's energy and excitement. But who was it to complain about more siblings? They could not brave the Void like it could, but siblings were siblings, and in time they, too, could be taught to brave the emptiness.
First it had to figure out how to speak to them, however, as its time in silence had wrapped the notion around itself like a cloak, hiding it away from even the Great One. Then it could teach them to brave the Void.
But the Great One was more magnanimous than it, and created a place of safety for those lesser beings.
With a flash and a roar, suddenly there were more things about it. Substance was odd, and uncomfortable. The Shadow far preferred the emptiness of the Void, the solitude it provided and inner reflection that came about with silence and solitude. The chaos that was substance was far too loud, and it sought a touch of silence, drifting away from its siblings and creators to seek its own comfort. Something to keep the noise at bay – it had nearly found it, at the edges, near where the Chaos met the Void, when The Others started to twist the Great One's creation.
It was an explosion of white and black that knocked it off its heels, two of the Four running amok in…in tainted forms! The bodies they took were blasphemous, a mockery of the perfect souls the Great One had created them as, but was nothing compared to the fact that they dared to take the Great One's creation, and turn it in their own images! The Shadow was forced to watch, lurking on the edges as its newborn siblings wrought changes into the Great One's universe, creating Realms in the Great One's perfect, simple, chaotic universe.
How dare they? How dare they alter the Great One's design?! And how dare it indulge them, balancing their abominable creations?! The Shadow slunk further away, watching closely as the Great One sat back and observed its creations and the creations of its children. And it stayed hidden, trying to figure out what the point of all this was, watching all beings from its spot on the fringes. And, to its mounting horror, as it gazed upon the Great One, it came to a realization.
The Great One was lesser now. They had surrendered much of Their power, much of Their self, to create the children and this place. Their power was imbued in all things, but no longer was it apart of itself – Their glory had been lessened. The Shadow scowled. It would have to tell the Great One, somehow, stop it from making any more mistakes.
"LET THERE BE LIGHT."
The words echoed out from the Great One, radiating through all of creation and bringing with it a searing, burning pain. The Shadow's howl of pain was lost in the din, scrabbling madly through the chaos as it sought a reprieve from the light of the Sun. It dug and dug, heat searing at it, light burning its nascent eyes – since when had it had eyes? – and only accidentally did it stumble upon its salvation. In the place where the substance of creation met the Void, the Shadow slipped through a crack and fell into a realm separated from all others. It was small, and tight, and confined, but at least it was safe. Silent. A space, hidden between the Void and Creation.
But it was not enough for it. Even now it could feel the Great One's aura wane, shrinking to but a fraction of its previous glory. Horror gnawed at the Shadow's gut, but it could not surface. Not with the pain of the Sun still lurking in the back of its mind. Instead it bit and clawed, pressing up against the walls of its safe little bubble and pushing it outward, creating lines and trenches through the Realms that none but it could traverse. A hidden realm beneath all of creation, a prison, only escapable by tunneling up into the Realms to create a doorway.
It watched as the children spread themselves out, building their Realms, while the Great One was content to sit back and watch, its very presence keeping the whole of creation stable.
It observed as more souls rose to power, absorbing energy and making it their own, taking from their parent without ever giving in return.
And it gazed hatefully at the damnable sun from the safety of its hole.
And it came to a conclusion, as it watched the Great One work, building new houses for the lesser souls to inhabit.
The Great One had forgotten what it was like, in the beginning. It had forgotten the blissful silence of the Void – the Four and its children had made it forget perfection. But it would remind them. They were too entrenched now for mere words to reach them, no. It had to show them. Perhaps it wouldn't destroy everything, but most things. The chaos, at least, it could see a use for, to protect those miserable little souls who couldn't live without the Great One's presence in the Void.
And it would all start with the destruction of the Sun. After that, the rest of the Realms would come crumbling down. But it was not powerful enough yet. The Sun was too much for it, and it was certain the Four would fight against its plan.
So it slunk back into its caves and plotted and planned, braving the pain of the sun to steal away souls, twisting them to its own purposes. It lured them into its realm with whispers and promises, secreting them away and nurturing them with the most destructive elements of creation. Twisting them, swaying them to its side, letting their influences leak out in the Realms but never letting them free. It was a slow process, but it made headway in that time.
But nothing could have prepared it for when the Great One created life.
It was terrible. The Shadow had no choice but to watch in horror as the Great One sacrificed bits of its own soul to create these foul beings, lesser creatures who scraped and begged and sniveled in the dirt, never appreciating the love and care the Great One – or even its siblings, the Four! – put in to their existence. They were ungrateful and hideous, with auras that were tainted and twisted, taking the Great One's light and forcing it to suit their own petty deeds.
It couldn't understand why. Why did the Great One love them so? Even these beasts. Why did it persist, yet still making its greater works? And why did it let the nascent gods roam free, doing as they will, making a mess of its perfection? The Great One dared to call it balance, not chaos.
The Shadow studied these lesser beasts, watching the spirits dart about them, energy leaking from their souls to nourish the realms. The energy was tainted and weak, colored with foul emotions…nothing that the Great One would likely touch, letting it sink into the Realms to be purified naturally. And in that, the Shadow saw an opportunity. It scooped up the energy and devoured it, a delicious feeling shivering down its spine, adding to its own abilities. To its surprise the more it ate, the less the light of the Sun affected it; it licked its metaphorical lips, scooping up as much as it could and devouring greedily.
After thousands of years of eating and learning how to get the beasts to release more of this dark energy, it had an idea. The longer it stayed in the Realms, the likelier the chances of being discovered. Surprise was on its side, for now, and it would be best to keep it that way. So, in an act that shamed the Shadow greatly, it mimicked its siblings, twisting its own hidden realm to be accepting of life. Then it stole a few of the beasts and dragged them into its realm, copying the Great One in how to nurture this life.
A farm. That is what it made, and it devoured the dark energy created from it gleefully, sharing some with those souls whom it had tempted.
But nothing compared to the creation of the Fae. Oh, how terrible their creation was to the Great One, sending Them into a deep sleep from which it had feared They would never emerge. And they dared to curse Their name – dared to blame the Great One and leverage hate against them! Unforgivable! How dare they?!
The Shadow turned its wrath upon them, tempting these beings, scaring them, tricking them into self-destruction and, to its immense surprise, finding that they produced as much if not more energy than the beasts. But they were less easily molded, which made them less useful to its purposes.
The Shadow still stole a few away, whispers among the mortals going around of a shadow that steals children in the night. The gods wrote it off as mortal superstition, and the Shadow cackled with glee as it continued to search and research, tormenting those foolish Fae who slipped into its grasp. Its power grew by leaps and bounds, until, one day, something in the Void drew its attention.
Something was out there, lurking about, and it called the being to the Four Realms. A blue shield of power prevented the Shadow from venturing too far away, so it had to lure it in instead. And lure it did; the being was mighty, and skilled, but driven mad from loneliness in the Void which made it an easy target. The Shadow whispered to it, making empty promises, tainting its will further with the Void, then unleashed it upon the Realms.
The destruction it caused was lovely, the dark energy produced by the chaos thick and delicious. Though the Shadow had never intended to provoke the Void. Watching the Great One lose an arm to protect creation had only firmed its resolve, however. If these whelps were not properly grateful to the Great One, who would sacrifice so much for them and their safety, then they did not deserve to live. The Shadow hated them all, all of them! Even the Four, who had been so corrupted by life and creation that they dared to make beings like the Fae, as if they would ever be able to live up to the Great One's vision!
In a fit of anger, the Shadow did something it never would have done otherwise. It stole drops of the Great One's divine, golden blood, shards of the Void, and devoured them both.
It took centuries to assimilate them. But when it did, its power grew even greater. While none of the Four would have been a match for it before, now it was at the pinnacle of its power. But its forces were not, and powerful though it might be, the Shadow alone was no match for all the gods working together. Especially not with the Four now aware of their own weakness, and striving to strengthen themselves. Their awareness came too late, in the Shadow's opinion. Only now did they try to give back to the Great One? Foolishness.
The answer to this dilemma came from the Great One itself, in the creation of the angels. Fu Hao and Stilicho.
They were among the only beings the Shadow truly respected. They, of all the Great One's children, elected to dedicate themselves wholly to the Great One's will. Hopefully they could be spared in the coming war. And while the Shadow dared not create an angel, for it was even unsure if it could, it could twist the spirits it already had and steal new ones away, raising them to become angels. Angels that pledged themselves to the Shadow and its purpose. Angels whose only goal was the destruction of the Four Realms, and the return of creation to perfection.
Sacrificial pawns, in other words.
But what surprised it the most was when the Fool found it.
Of all beings, even the Great One, it was the Fool who found the Shadow first, and begged it for knowledge and power. At first it had been cautious, thinking it a trick, but had quickly come around. It could see the dark energy swirling about the Fool's heart, clouding their judgement, separating them from the Great One's guidance.
A very powerful puppet had just fallen into the Shadow's clutches, and it was loathe to let them go. It bound the Fool with dark magic, taking away senses of reason and logic, separating its heart from emotion in exchange for what it called 'power.' Fool indeed. There was only one power, and it came from the Great One. Something it would carve into the soul of every single being that called the damnable Realms home; there was only one perfection, and it came from the Great One.
Even if it was too kind, too willfully ignorant to make them see that.
The Great One's heart was too big. The Shadow's was not. It tried to bide its time, but the Great One became impatient and sequestered itself away to build power. The Shadow scowled – impatience did not suit the Great One, but it did force the Shadow to move. Its forces were not ready to take on the Realms…but as it plotted, and planned, a realization came to it. It didn't need to overpower the gods. It didn't need to outfight them. It just needed to outplay them. And a plan came to mind, one that aligned with its goals perfectly – though it rankled the Shadow to resort to such…blasphemous measures, twisting things against the Great One's vision.
It had to wait until the perfect time, however. Until the last possible minute, to make its moves as damning as possible – that time when the Great One was well and truly sequestered away, unable to move for the power They were building for another of its Great Creations.
Not just because the Great One was sequestered away, and could not intervene (though, it realized, it needed to have a plan for such an event.) But to also show them that the Shadow was right. They had been blinded by the light, and it was the Shadow's duty to remind them of the dark. A grin spread across the Shadow's maw, having built a form for itself over the course of the endless eons, savage and menacing as it opened its hidden realm to the greater Realms.
It was time to remind them all what they had forgotten. It was time to remind the Great One who They were, and make Them forget those silly past lives that colored Their thoughts. It was time for war. It was time to destroy the Four Realms.
The question was, which did it start with first? Devouring the Sun, or destroying the Tree? It bared its fangs, feeling the endless hunger of the void within it. Why not both?