Chapter 973
Malcolm Tent
Monkey with a typewriter.
- Joined
- Oct 16, 2020
- Messages
- 7,263
- Likes received
- 344,218
I stared at the kindly man in shock. Or rather, I tried to. I couldn't see him, really. My eyes were inexorably drawn to his, falling into the blue black abyss. He had the same eyes as my wife, but…more. An order of magnitude more. They were magnetic, hypnotic, whatever term you wanted to use, I couldn't look away. Like they were pulling me into an endless abyss from which I'd never escape.
And then, they weren't. "Apologies," he chuckled ruefully. "I forget that happens to mortals. I haven't entertained company in quite some time."
Callie was staring too, but she didn't seem captivated or consumed, just…lost. "I...I know you. How do I know you? Not just like, who you are, I mean. I feel like you're familiar. Like you're someone important to me. But we've never met."
"Well of course," he beamed warmly. "I like to think all children know their parents."
Her eyes hardened. "You're not my father," she said firmly. "Trust me, I wish that was the case, because you almost couldn't be worse than the one I have, but he is who he is. He might not have parented me much, but I got enough physical and mental traits from him that I couldn't deny it if I wanted to."
Laughing, he just shrugged. "Is that what makes a parent? Because it seems to me you have as much of me in you as him at this point. After all, haven't you noticed you've got my eyes?"
That seemed to throw her off balance, and I could tell she wanted to argue but didn't know how. "Yeah, about that, how did you manage that?" I forced the conversation back onto me. "Because we were just kind of throwing pasta at the wall to see what stuck. I originally thought the Heretic Flame was a lucky accident, but even my luck isn't that good. You did something."
"What a wonderful man you've found for yourself, Calliope," he laughed. "Such presence of mind. Most would take credit for such an occurrence. It's a rare man who questions his gifts and not just his misfortunes."
Callie's hand found mine, gripping it tightly enough that I could tell she was overwhelmed without needing my eyes or the bond. "That's not an answer," I pointed out.
He shrugged again. "You got close enough. The presence of the Void, the purifying flame, and a few of your more esoteric tricks. It gave me enough to work with. Once you got my attention, I just…tapped your elbow, so to speak."
"You can do that?" I said warily. "Affect a working when you're, I assume, dead?"
"Gods don't die," he told me matter of factly. "They just kind of scatter. And once they do, they retain bits of what they once were. Our Domains are…inextricably linked to who we are. With a shattered soul, it takes a VERY close match to stumble into a god's sphere of influence. But it does happen. How do you think Hatescream orchestrated his resurrection? The information necessary to engineer that kind of ritual is far beyond what you could leave in written instructions. Some fool tripped over his divinity by mistake and ended up an avatar. It happens."
Callie spoke up. "So I'm your…avatar?" She chewed on the word like it was oatmeal. "What does that mean?"
He waved it off. "It's just a word for a being through which a god acts. After a deity dies, if you want to use that word, their power is diminished to near nothingness. But stories never end. And neither do the gods they become. You know that Domains can interfere with each other, it's why Morgan Lark killed all the other vampires. They can also interact, as can the forces that will one day become them."
"I see," my wife said inscrutably. "And you used this connection to make me…what I am."
His smile was kind. "I did. Gods have always acted through their children, when they have nowhere else to turn. Your friend Satala, for instance. I chose you, Calliope. You were the only option, admittedly, but I haven't regretted that choice. You've made me proud."
I felt Callie's churn of emotions through the bond. Confusion, anger, hurt, longing. Callie's relationship with her dad was BAD. Understandably, because Paul Reynolds was a fucking scumbag. But this man was kind of a relative. Kind of a new start. And kind of intrusive, which wasn't helping. He seemed to pick up on that, because he changed gears. "As I said, I'm sure you have questions for me?" he prodded.
My wife nodded, getting her head back on the matter at hand. "Yes. So many. But I think for now, we need to know what the trait was trying to tell me. About the Void god. Could he be coming back? Could this all be because of him? If gods don't die…"
He waggled a hand. "That's complicated. The Void god called itself a god, but it wasn't, not really. Void Children, and the things they become, are not capable of divinity as we attain it. They don't have souls, exactly. Though they do have SOMETHING. Ruxx was a particularly powerful being, but its return is unlikely. I destroyed it quite thoroughly, though the effort destroyed me in turn."
"Ok," I said slowly. "Probably a bit of a sidetrack but…how? How did you do all this?" I waved at him. "The Heretic God, the Heretic Flame. Like, was that just your Domain? Did you build your whole legend around destroying the Void?"
He shook his head. "Not at all. In fact, I got my powers from the Void. It's why Calliope was so compatible with me. But I suspect you already guessed as much."
"You mentioned it was an ingredient in the Heretic Flame," I acknowledged. "But I didn't expect…that. How does that work? Like you were a god and you bent the knee to serve, what was its name? Ruxx?"
His sigh was wistful. "Not at all. I gained my divinity in service to the Void. I was originally…well, I had a complicated childhood, let's say that. I was very strong as a boy. Possibly too strong. All the other children in my city looked up to me, and I gloried in the adulation. I was tall and powerful, everyone expected great things from me."
Those blue black eyes lost focus, staring off into the distance. "Except for one small thing. I wasn't an Ascendant. I didn't have a point of Impact. Several of the other boys did, and they gained power quickly. I was left behind, abandoned, and I was angry.
"We knew about the Void, in those days," he explained. "And were taught its dangers. But some were seduced by its power. There was a witch, near the city I grew up in, named Morwenna. I went to see her, and I begged her for power." His smile turned bitter. "And she gave it to me. Oh yes. I became an Ascendant, I stepped onto the path to power, and I never looked back."
I grimaced. "Favors like that aren't free. Especially not from the Void."
"No," he said with a sad laugh. "No they are not. This one certainly wasn't. I was approached years later, once I reached D-rank. I was told I would become a Vessel.
"Being the Vessel of a Void Child is…awful," he explained. "And wonderful. It burns out a part of you. A part that people need, but one that most of us would rather not have. The part that feels shame. Uncertainty. Doubt. The part that hesitates." His eyes narrowed with remembered pain. "It makes us monsters. And I was the very worst."
Callie was staring at him in horror. "So…what happened? How did you go from that to this?"
"When a Void Child grows, so does its Vessel," he said tightly. "And mine GREW. With my help and influence, Ruxx climbed the ranks quickly. I was powerful. My black flame was mighty, and it consumed all it touched. The fires of the Void are hungry things, and none could stand before them. Or me. Until Ruxx crossed that final threshold. Until he became a god, or some version of one. And so did I."
I blinked as everything clicked together. "Your soul," I said as I got it. "The damage he did was to your soul, but when you became a god it pushed your soul up with you. Mirror souls are special. It fixed whatever he did."
"It did," he nodded. "It was the most excruciating thing I have ever experienced. But when it was done, I felt…everything. And I hated. Myself. Ruxx. Morwenna. Hell, I hated the world." As he spoked, he began to weave his fingers, pulling specks of burning cinder from the air. He started to weave, and I knew without looking what he was making. A Chronicle. Callie's Chronicle.
He reached out and pulled free some of her shadow from the table, using it as thread as he started to stitch together a book. Callie watched, but didn't stop him. He was doing this, but we both knew he wasn't. She was. This place was hers, and he was acting through her to create this. We could both feel his good intentions, both feel how useful this would be, so we just sat and listened to the story as he stitched.
"I spent millennia wallowing," he said as he worked. "Hating, and breaking, and healing. Until I made a choice. I decided that I had had enough. That the Void's grip on realspace was too strong. In those days, the universe as a dark and terrible place. They kept us alive as servants. As pawns and amusements. Because Ruxx was lazy and liked what we could do for it.
"So I began to plan. The fires of the Void were powerful, but they couldn't affect the Void itself. They were a weapon that could only be turned on my own." His voice rang with shame and self loathing. "So I went out and began to search for ways to change them. I searched for centuries, eventually stumbling upon a spark of divinity from a goddess of purification. An ember that had been one of her objects of power."
He held up a hand, and the blue black flame we had come to know kindled in his palm, leaping and dancing as he stared into it. "There was more. It was a long journey. But I eventually reached the end. I kindled a spark of Heretic Fire. I burned the Void from my very BONES, and I took up a war standard against the Void Children, driving them from our space and freeing my people from the servitude I help cast them into.
"They lauded me as a hero," he said in disgust. "No one was left who remembered what I had done. What I had been. When I changed sides, realspace had been under the boot for tens of thousands of years. I was almost glad that destroying Ruxx killed me. It was a relief not to hear their undeserved cheers of gratitude anymore. They made me sick."
His hands stopped, and he set the object he'd been holding down. It had been burning cinders before, scraps of the books I'd lit aflame to bring us here. That had been why I'd done it. But he'd stitched them together into a single, solid tome, and he pushed it towards Callie. She took it reverently, feeling the power from it, just like I could. He'd combined them for us. Her Path and Trait. Combined them more perfectly than I ever could have, and I wasn't quite sure what the result would be, even if I was eager to find out.
Callie picked it up, looking lost still, but she had one more question. This place was coming unravelled. And she had one more thing she needed to know. "What was your name?" She asked him softly.
He smiled fiercely at her. "I haven't spoken it for eons now. No one has. But I suppose, oh daughter of my heart, that if anyone deserves it, you do. I know you don't think of me in such a way, and maybe you never will, but someday, I hope to earn that regard. To have family again after all this time, and leave a mark on this world that will wash away the stain of what I did. When that day comes, when you feel ready to claim me as kin, lift your head with pride, and tell any who ask that you are the child of Adam Atlas." And then, we woke up.
And then, they weren't. "Apologies," he chuckled ruefully. "I forget that happens to mortals. I haven't entertained company in quite some time."
Callie was staring too, but she didn't seem captivated or consumed, just…lost. "I...I know you. How do I know you? Not just like, who you are, I mean. I feel like you're familiar. Like you're someone important to me. But we've never met."
"Well of course," he beamed warmly. "I like to think all children know their parents."
Her eyes hardened. "You're not my father," she said firmly. "Trust me, I wish that was the case, because you almost couldn't be worse than the one I have, but he is who he is. He might not have parented me much, but I got enough physical and mental traits from him that I couldn't deny it if I wanted to."
Laughing, he just shrugged. "Is that what makes a parent? Because it seems to me you have as much of me in you as him at this point. After all, haven't you noticed you've got my eyes?"
That seemed to throw her off balance, and I could tell she wanted to argue but didn't know how. "Yeah, about that, how did you manage that?" I forced the conversation back onto me. "Because we were just kind of throwing pasta at the wall to see what stuck. I originally thought the Heretic Flame was a lucky accident, but even my luck isn't that good. You did something."
"What a wonderful man you've found for yourself, Calliope," he laughed. "Such presence of mind. Most would take credit for such an occurrence. It's a rare man who questions his gifts and not just his misfortunes."
Callie's hand found mine, gripping it tightly enough that I could tell she was overwhelmed without needing my eyes or the bond. "That's not an answer," I pointed out.
He shrugged again. "You got close enough. The presence of the Void, the purifying flame, and a few of your more esoteric tricks. It gave me enough to work with. Once you got my attention, I just…tapped your elbow, so to speak."
"You can do that?" I said warily. "Affect a working when you're, I assume, dead?"
"Gods don't die," he told me matter of factly. "They just kind of scatter. And once they do, they retain bits of what they once were. Our Domains are…inextricably linked to who we are. With a shattered soul, it takes a VERY close match to stumble into a god's sphere of influence. But it does happen. How do you think Hatescream orchestrated his resurrection? The information necessary to engineer that kind of ritual is far beyond what you could leave in written instructions. Some fool tripped over his divinity by mistake and ended up an avatar. It happens."
Callie spoke up. "So I'm your…avatar?" She chewed on the word like it was oatmeal. "What does that mean?"
He waved it off. "It's just a word for a being through which a god acts. After a deity dies, if you want to use that word, their power is diminished to near nothingness. But stories never end. And neither do the gods they become. You know that Domains can interfere with each other, it's why Morgan Lark killed all the other vampires. They can also interact, as can the forces that will one day become them."
"I see," my wife said inscrutably. "And you used this connection to make me…what I am."
His smile was kind. "I did. Gods have always acted through their children, when they have nowhere else to turn. Your friend Satala, for instance. I chose you, Calliope. You were the only option, admittedly, but I haven't regretted that choice. You've made me proud."
I felt Callie's churn of emotions through the bond. Confusion, anger, hurt, longing. Callie's relationship with her dad was BAD. Understandably, because Paul Reynolds was a fucking scumbag. But this man was kind of a relative. Kind of a new start. And kind of intrusive, which wasn't helping. He seemed to pick up on that, because he changed gears. "As I said, I'm sure you have questions for me?" he prodded.
My wife nodded, getting her head back on the matter at hand. "Yes. So many. But I think for now, we need to know what the trait was trying to tell me. About the Void god. Could he be coming back? Could this all be because of him? If gods don't die…"
He waggled a hand. "That's complicated. The Void god called itself a god, but it wasn't, not really. Void Children, and the things they become, are not capable of divinity as we attain it. They don't have souls, exactly. Though they do have SOMETHING. Ruxx was a particularly powerful being, but its return is unlikely. I destroyed it quite thoroughly, though the effort destroyed me in turn."
"Ok," I said slowly. "Probably a bit of a sidetrack but…how? How did you do all this?" I waved at him. "The Heretic God, the Heretic Flame. Like, was that just your Domain? Did you build your whole legend around destroying the Void?"
He shook his head. "Not at all. In fact, I got my powers from the Void. It's why Calliope was so compatible with me. But I suspect you already guessed as much."
"You mentioned it was an ingredient in the Heretic Flame," I acknowledged. "But I didn't expect…that. How does that work? Like you were a god and you bent the knee to serve, what was its name? Ruxx?"
His sigh was wistful. "Not at all. I gained my divinity in service to the Void. I was originally…well, I had a complicated childhood, let's say that. I was very strong as a boy. Possibly too strong. All the other children in my city looked up to me, and I gloried in the adulation. I was tall and powerful, everyone expected great things from me."
Those blue black eyes lost focus, staring off into the distance. "Except for one small thing. I wasn't an Ascendant. I didn't have a point of Impact. Several of the other boys did, and they gained power quickly. I was left behind, abandoned, and I was angry.
"We knew about the Void, in those days," he explained. "And were taught its dangers. But some were seduced by its power. There was a witch, near the city I grew up in, named Morwenna. I went to see her, and I begged her for power." His smile turned bitter. "And she gave it to me. Oh yes. I became an Ascendant, I stepped onto the path to power, and I never looked back."
I grimaced. "Favors like that aren't free. Especially not from the Void."
"No," he said with a sad laugh. "No they are not. This one certainly wasn't. I was approached years later, once I reached D-rank. I was told I would become a Vessel.
"Being the Vessel of a Void Child is…awful," he explained. "And wonderful. It burns out a part of you. A part that people need, but one that most of us would rather not have. The part that feels shame. Uncertainty. Doubt. The part that hesitates." His eyes narrowed with remembered pain. "It makes us monsters. And I was the very worst."
Callie was staring at him in horror. "So…what happened? How did you go from that to this?"
"When a Void Child grows, so does its Vessel," he said tightly. "And mine GREW. With my help and influence, Ruxx climbed the ranks quickly. I was powerful. My black flame was mighty, and it consumed all it touched. The fires of the Void are hungry things, and none could stand before them. Or me. Until Ruxx crossed that final threshold. Until he became a god, or some version of one. And so did I."
I blinked as everything clicked together. "Your soul," I said as I got it. "The damage he did was to your soul, but when you became a god it pushed your soul up with you. Mirror souls are special. It fixed whatever he did."
"It did," he nodded. "It was the most excruciating thing I have ever experienced. But when it was done, I felt…everything. And I hated. Myself. Ruxx. Morwenna. Hell, I hated the world." As he spoked, he began to weave his fingers, pulling specks of burning cinder from the air. He started to weave, and I knew without looking what he was making. A Chronicle. Callie's Chronicle.
He reached out and pulled free some of her shadow from the table, using it as thread as he started to stitch together a book. Callie watched, but didn't stop him. He was doing this, but we both knew he wasn't. She was. This place was hers, and he was acting through her to create this. We could both feel his good intentions, both feel how useful this would be, so we just sat and listened to the story as he stitched.
"I spent millennia wallowing," he said as he worked. "Hating, and breaking, and healing. Until I made a choice. I decided that I had had enough. That the Void's grip on realspace was too strong. In those days, the universe as a dark and terrible place. They kept us alive as servants. As pawns and amusements. Because Ruxx was lazy and liked what we could do for it.
"So I began to plan. The fires of the Void were powerful, but they couldn't affect the Void itself. They were a weapon that could only be turned on my own." His voice rang with shame and self loathing. "So I went out and began to search for ways to change them. I searched for centuries, eventually stumbling upon a spark of divinity from a goddess of purification. An ember that had been one of her objects of power."
He held up a hand, and the blue black flame we had come to know kindled in his palm, leaping and dancing as he stared into it. "There was more. It was a long journey. But I eventually reached the end. I kindled a spark of Heretic Fire. I burned the Void from my very BONES, and I took up a war standard against the Void Children, driving them from our space and freeing my people from the servitude I help cast them into.
"They lauded me as a hero," he said in disgust. "No one was left who remembered what I had done. What I had been. When I changed sides, realspace had been under the boot for tens of thousands of years. I was almost glad that destroying Ruxx killed me. It was a relief not to hear their undeserved cheers of gratitude anymore. They made me sick."
His hands stopped, and he set the object he'd been holding down. It had been burning cinders before, scraps of the books I'd lit aflame to bring us here. That had been why I'd done it. But he'd stitched them together into a single, solid tome, and he pushed it towards Callie. She took it reverently, feeling the power from it, just like I could. He'd combined them for us. Her Path and Trait. Combined them more perfectly than I ever could have, and I wasn't quite sure what the result would be, even if I was eager to find out.
Callie picked it up, looking lost still, but she had one more question. This place was coming unravelled. And she had one more thing she needed to know. "What was your name?" She asked him softly.
He smiled fiercely at her. "I haven't spoken it for eons now. No one has. But I suppose, oh daughter of my heart, that if anyone deserves it, you do. I know you don't think of me in such a way, and maybe you never will, but someday, I hope to earn that regard. To have family again after all this time, and leave a mark on this world that will wash away the stain of what I did. When that day comes, when you feel ready to claim me as kin, lift your head with pride, and tell any who ask that you are the child of Adam Atlas." And then, we woke up.