Chapter 1003
New
Malcolm Tent
Monkey with a typewriter.
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We didn't stop inside the Palace. I expected to be taken to a throne room, or maybe some kind of study. Instead, Aiden brought me deep, deep into the heart of the structure, and then we left it behind to enter a deeper area.
After an hour or two of walking (ignoring everyone we passed), we came to a pair of huge dark wood doors. When Aiden pushed them open, I was expecting us to step into some kind of howling abyss. But instead, when we stepped through the door, the world fell away and we found ourselves in some kind of meadow.
It wasn't green, or pretty. In fact, meadow was a bit of an overstatement. It was a wide, flat field of grass, half drowned with muddy water, with only the odd island of overgrown greenery peeking out. As we touched down, I winced at the feeling of my feet squelching deep into the thin mud. Aiden grimaced, then nodded for me to follow and led me through the meadow towards a small, difficult to see building in the center.
As we approached, the very dim light seeping through the rainclouds currently pouring water down on us finally illuminated the small, squat building we'd come here to access.
It looked…old. A wooden shack that was barely holding together in the wind and rain. The shutters hung at odd angles, the paint on the door was peeling, and the door itself was cracked in several places, though not enough to show inside.
"This," said Aiden slowly. "Is the core of the Wishworld. The center of this whole realm. This is the Great Book Heavenly Library."
I raised an eyebrow at him. "I'll be honest, It doesn't look like any of those things."
"Yeah, the old man is nostalgic," he shrugged. "He created this place in its larval form when he was pretty low on the totem pole. It wasn't FINISHED until much later, but the concept originated before he had the power or vision to create something grander. And he likes to keep it how it is. It's comfortable for him."
I'd heard Aiden adopt a lot of tones. Casual, acerbic, even fond. But I'd never heard the Wishmaster show…reverence. I could FEEL the respect he had for Alistair Wyndham in my bones. Aiden might not want to be the Wishmaster, but he still respected the office, or at least the man who had founded it. Turning, he reached up to rap his knuckles on the door. There was a brief pause and then someone called. "Why are you still out there, lackwit, get inside out of the rain."
Aiden laughed, pushing the door open and ushering me inside. I stepped in…and blinked. Ok, this looked a little more like what I was expecting. The inside of the place was…well, books. Just all the books.
Shelves ceiling to floor, rising up into the distance so high I couldn't see the top. And not just one level, throughout the sky of the library, small islands that looked like reading rooms floated, walls lined on three sides with shelving of their own. Directly ahead of us, to my surprise was a table that looked a lot like mine. I wondered if the form of the library had influenced me through recursion, or if my dad had somehow influenced it.
We stopped in front of the table, which was covered in books, to stare down at the figure scrawling away in yet another book. "Well?" he snapped without looking up. "What do you need, brat?"
"You sent me to get the kid," Aiden said mildly. "And bring him here."
Alistair paused. "Was that today?" He reached into a pocket, pulling out a…well watch was the wrong word. It was a small circular timepiece, but it had WAY too many dials and readouts. "Well that seems wrong," he said in concern. "I could have sworn it was two hundred years ago last time I checked that." His eyes lit up. "Wait, no, I remember." He snapped his fingers and a book appeared. He cracked it open and the interior glowed, his eyes lighting up again, but more literally this time.
"Right, Shane," he said confidently. "Sorry. Certain memories get in the way of certain research methodologies. Plus sometimes I section off parts of my brain into books to get a break." He glanced around the library with a frown. "This place is getting a little crowded. I need to make another annex."
Aiden rolled his eyes. "You say that every time I come in here. The last time you made one was two hundred years ago. Anyway, you said you wanted to meet the kid, so…here's the kid." He gestured to me like a magician showing off their assistant.
Alistair nodded, then turned to look me over. "So…you're Eli's boy," he said slowly. "That one had potential. Shame we lost him to the politics. All the smart ones jump ship. And yes, Aiden, I am most certainly including you in that assessment." His eyes, the same green as every other Wyndham I'd met, studied me carefully.
Honestly, the eyes were the only part I'd guessed right. Alistair Wyndham looked…old. Not beaten down or weathered. Just old. Healthy full cheeks were adorned with a snow white beard, and his hair, though very similar to the natural upsweep that my dad and I had, wasn't sandy blonde, but pure ivory. His eyes had crows feet at the corners, showing he smiled quite a bit, and he looked sweet and harmless.
He looked like a mix between someone's grandfather and a movie star. "You look older than I expected."
I didn't mean to say it, it just kind of slipped out, but as I said it I didn't regret the words. Alistair was the kind of person who valued honesty and communication. I could FEEL it in here. All knowledge was precious to him.
"I spent quite a bit longer in S-rank than most," he admitted. "I've always been patient. I could have made…adjustments. But I didn't see the point. My wife and children have long since died, and I rarely see anyone anymore. It's mostly just Aiden. Oh, and Pomp and Circumstance. They're my wisps. Though I haven't seen Pomp in some time." He glanced up into the sky, eyes fixing on a bookshelf, and one of the books glowed. "Ah, apparently I sent him out to pick up a rare Skill for me. Oh well, it's only been a century, I'm sure he's fine."
That was interesting. "So, not that I'm not excited to meet you, but I'm curious why you wanted to see me. Is this just onboarding, or did you have a specific goal."
"Both," he admitted. "I always greet the new ones. But more than that, I heard you've been having an interesting couple years. You've met several interesting deities. Suvaya I knew about, but I confess, the idea of a Heretic God is fascinating. I'd love to pick your brain. Or you could just tell me about it if you'd rather be boring."
I snorted at what I hoped was a joke. "Well, I think if you want information, I'm going to need to get something out of it. That's like…the first rule of the WCP, isn't it?"
That brought him up short, but he grinned after a moment. "That it is. What do you want?"
I'd expected that to be harder. Except…I had no idea. He was the Wishmaster, I could ask for almost anything. Power, techniques, Skills, items. I mean sure, the knowledge wasn't likely to pay for ANYTHING. But it could pay for something.
Considering my options, I thought about what I'd needed in the past. What I'd had that had changed the game. What I'd lost. And I only really had one response. "I want a defensive token," I decided. I'd used the Lady's protecting Callie, and ever since I had, I'd felt…naked. Having that divine level insurance had helped the world seem a little safer. And given where I was going and who I'd be dealing with moving forward, I wanted that security back.
"Smart," he said approvingly. "Too many people would have wished for some kind of overpowered Skill. Why didn't you?"
I shrugged. "I already have too many options. If I want an overpowered Skill I'll make one. Or at least a technique. But nothing I can get will be strong enough to protect me when I really need it. Defense is something I can't buy or make. Not at that level. Gods don't give out protection like that easily. And I suspect my information is worth it. Don't forget I'm your successor, I know the value of secrets."
"Clearly," he grinned. "Very well. You'll need to make the wish. Any particulars you'd like to hammer out?"
"Three uses," I clarified. "I don't want a one and done."
He shook his head. "Two is the highest I can go. Your information IS valuable, but not priceless. Now that I know the Heretic God exists I can find information on my own through trial and error. Is that acceptable?"
I hesitated. "No," I finally said. "I want to transfer one. One for me and one for my wife."
"That I can do," he acknowledged. "But they aren't going to be under your control. It'll have to be placed ON you. It'll activate if you're the victim of a serious attack by someone at S-rank or higher."
That wasn't as good as I'd hoped, but I was literally talking to a god. It was probably better than I should have asked for. I nodded, and he raised an eyebrow at me. It took me a second to realize what I was supposed to do, and I cleared my throat. "I wish for divine protection of the type we've just agreed on to be placed on my wife and I in exchange for a copy of the memories of my meeting with the Heretic God."
Callie had figured he might want to know about Atlas, and we'd already discussed and decided to give them to him if asked. I hadn't realized until just now how valuable the information might be, and therefore that I could get a wish, but I was satisfied with what I'd asked for.
Alistair smiled, nodding respectfully. "Done."
I blinked. "Wait…what? What do you mean, done? Where's the lightning? The flash of light? I didn't feel anything."
"This is Wishworld," he said simply. "Reality here is what I make it. Within the confines of the Wish, all who enter here are under my influence. You wished, you paid, and now you are made whole. You may go."
The jovial grandpa smile had vanished like the wind, and he returned to his book, dipping a quill and beginning to write. It wasn't that he had been faking, it was that he had wanted something from me and now gotten it. The Wishmaster was a god of the deal. His interest in mortal affairs extended only to the wishes he granted and those he deemed worthy to make them.
Oddly…that made me feel better. I'd been so paranoid when he was being a nice old man. It just didn't fit with my image of what gods were. I sighed, then pushed back my chair. I was about to get up, but I realized that at the very least, I should CHECK what kind of protection he'd laid on me. I held up a finger for Aiden to wait, and then I closed my eyes and entered my ring of Pride.
My library looked the same as ever. Mostly. Except one difference. There was a second pedestal like the one my Chronicle sat on, a bright white stone plinth above which floated a book made of living purple flame, bound in violet lightning. In the flickers of the flames, runes and stats danced and leapt, rearranging and recombining infinitely, as if driven by the fire like an engine. I grinned down at it, then looked back at my ancestor as I left. "Thanks old man," I told him sincerely. And you know? I swore I saw him smirk a little as I got up to leave. Sneaky bastard.
After an hour or two of walking (ignoring everyone we passed), we came to a pair of huge dark wood doors. When Aiden pushed them open, I was expecting us to step into some kind of howling abyss. But instead, when we stepped through the door, the world fell away and we found ourselves in some kind of meadow.
It wasn't green, or pretty. In fact, meadow was a bit of an overstatement. It was a wide, flat field of grass, half drowned with muddy water, with only the odd island of overgrown greenery peeking out. As we touched down, I winced at the feeling of my feet squelching deep into the thin mud. Aiden grimaced, then nodded for me to follow and led me through the meadow towards a small, difficult to see building in the center.
As we approached, the very dim light seeping through the rainclouds currently pouring water down on us finally illuminated the small, squat building we'd come here to access.
It looked…old. A wooden shack that was barely holding together in the wind and rain. The shutters hung at odd angles, the paint on the door was peeling, and the door itself was cracked in several places, though not enough to show inside.
"This," said Aiden slowly. "Is the core of the Wishworld. The center of this whole realm. This is the Great Book Heavenly Library."
I raised an eyebrow at him. "I'll be honest, It doesn't look like any of those things."
"Yeah, the old man is nostalgic," he shrugged. "He created this place in its larval form when he was pretty low on the totem pole. It wasn't FINISHED until much later, but the concept originated before he had the power or vision to create something grander. And he likes to keep it how it is. It's comfortable for him."
I'd heard Aiden adopt a lot of tones. Casual, acerbic, even fond. But I'd never heard the Wishmaster show…reverence. I could FEEL the respect he had for Alistair Wyndham in my bones. Aiden might not want to be the Wishmaster, but he still respected the office, or at least the man who had founded it. Turning, he reached up to rap his knuckles on the door. There was a brief pause and then someone called. "Why are you still out there, lackwit, get inside out of the rain."
Aiden laughed, pushing the door open and ushering me inside. I stepped in…and blinked. Ok, this looked a little more like what I was expecting. The inside of the place was…well, books. Just all the books.
Shelves ceiling to floor, rising up into the distance so high I couldn't see the top. And not just one level, throughout the sky of the library, small islands that looked like reading rooms floated, walls lined on three sides with shelving of their own. Directly ahead of us, to my surprise was a table that looked a lot like mine. I wondered if the form of the library had influenced me through recursion, or if my dad had somehow influenced it.
We stopped in front of the table, which was covered in books, to stare down at the figure scrawling away in yet another book. "Well?" he snapped without looking up. "What do you need, brat?"
"You sent me to get the kid," Aiden said mildly. "And bring him here."
Alistair paused. "Was that today?" He reached into a pocket, pulling out a…well watch was the wrong word. It was a small circular timepiece, but it had WAY too many dials and readouts. "Well that seems wrong," he said in concern. "I could have sworn it was two hundred years ago last time I checked that." His eyes lit up. "Wait, no, I remember." He snapped his fingers and a book appeared. He cracked it open and the interior glowed, his eyes lighting up again, but more literally this time.
"Right, Shane," he said confidently. "Sorry. Certain memories get in the way of certain research methodologies. Plus sometimes I section off parts of my brain into books to get a break." He glanced around the library with a frown. "This place is getting a little crowded. I need to make another annex."
Aiden rolled his eyes. "You say that every time I come in here. The last time you made one was two hundred years ago. Anyway, you said you wanted to meet the kid, so…here's the kid." He gestured to me like a magician showing off their assistant.
Alistair nodded, then turned to look me over. "So…you're Eli's boy," he said slowly. "That one had potential. Shame we lost him to the politics. All the smart ones jump ship. And yes, Aiden, I am most certainly including you in that assessment." His eyes, the same green as every other Wyndham I'd met, studied me carefully.
Honestly, the eyes were the only part I'd guessed right. Alistair Wyndham looked…old. Not beaten down or weathered. Just old. Healthy full cheeks were adorned with a snow white beard, and his hair, though very similar to the natural upsweep that my dad and I had, wasn't sandy blonde, but pure ivory. His eyes had crows feet at the corners, showing he smiled quite a bit, and he looked sweet and harmless.
He looked like a mix between someone's grandfather and a movie star. "You look older than I expected."
I didn't mean to say it, it just kind of slipped out, but as I said it I didn't regret the words. Alistair was the kind of person who valued honesty and communication. I could FEEL it in here. All knowledge was precious to him.
"I spent quite a bit longer in S-rank than most," he admitted. "I've always been patient. I could have made…adjustments. But I didn't see the point. My wife and children have long since died, and I rarely see anyone anymore. It's mostly just Aiden. Oh, and Pomp and Circumstance. They're my wisps. Though I haven't seen Pomp in some time." He glanced up into the sky, eyes fixing on a bookshelf, and one of the books glowed. "Ah, apparently I sent him out to pick up a rare Skill for me. Oh well, it's only been a century, I'm sure he's fine."
That was interesting. "So, not that I'm not excited to meet you, but I'm curious why you wanted to see me. Is this just onboarding, or did you have a specific goal."
"Both," he admitted. "I always greet the new ones. But more than that, I heard you've been having an interesting couple years. You've met several interesting deities. Suvaya I knew about, but I confess, the idea of a Heretic God is fascinating. I'd love to pick your brain. Or you could just tell me about it if you'd rather be boring."
I snorted at what I hoped was a joke. "Well, I think if you want information, I'm going to need to get something out of it. That's like…the first rule of the WCP, isn't it?"
That brought him up short, but he grinned after a moment. "That it is. What do you want?"
I'd expected that to be harder. Except…I had no idea. He was the Wishmaster, I could ask for almost anything. Power, techniques, Skills, items. I mean sure, the knowledge wasn't likely to pay for ANYTHING. But it could pay for something.
Considering my options, I thought about what I'd needed in the past. What I'd had that had changed the game. What I'd lost. And I only really had one response. "I want a defensive token," I decided. I'd used the Lady's protecting Callie, and ever since I had, I'd felt…naked. Having that divine level insurance had helped the world seem a little safer. And given where I was going and who I'd be dealing with moving forward, I wanted that security back.
"Smart," he said approvingly. "Too many people would have wished for some kind of overpowered Skill. Why didn't you?"
I shrugged. "I already have too many options. If I want an overpowered Skill I'll make one. Or at least a technique. But nothing I can get will be strong enough to protect me when I really need it. Defense is something I can't buy or make. Not at that level. Gods don't give out protection like that easily. And I suspect my information is worth it. Don't forget I'm your successor, I know the value of secrets."
"Clearly," he grinned. "Very well. You'll need to make the wish. Any particulars you'd like to hammer out?"
"Three uses," I clarified. "I don't want a one and done."
He shook his head. "Two is the highest I can go. Your information IS valuable, but not priceless. Now that I know the Heretic God exists I can find information on my own through trial and error. Is that acceptable?"
I hesitated. "No," I finally said. "I want to transfer one. One for me and one for my wife."
"That I can do," he acknowledged. "But they aren't going to be under your control. It'll have to be placed ON you. It'll activate if you're the victim of a serious attack by someone at S-rank or higher."
That wasn't as good as I'd hoped, but I was literally talking to a god. It was probably better than I should have asked for. I nodded, and he raised an eyebrow at me. It took me a second to realize what I was supposed to do, and I cleared my throat. "I wish for divine protection of the type we've just agreed on to be placed on my wife and I in exchange for a copy of the memories of my meeting with the Heretic God."
Callie had figured he might want to know about Atlas, and we'd already discussed and decided to give them to him if asked. I hadn't realized until just now how valuable the information might be, and therefore that I could get a wish, but I was satisfied with what I'd asked for.
Alistair smiled, nodding respectfully. "Done."
I blinked. "Wait…what? What do you mean, done? Where's the lightning? The flash of light? I didn't feel anything."
"This is Wishworld," he said simply. "Reality here is what I make it. Within the confines of the Wish, all who enter here are under my influence. You wished, you paid, and now you are made whole. You may go."
The jovial grandpa smile had vanished like the wind, and he returned to his book, dipping a quill and beginning to write. It wasn't that he had been faking, it was that he had wanted something from me and now gotten it. The Wishmaster was a god of the deal. His interest in mortal affairs extended only to the wishes he granted and those he deemed worthy to make them.
Oddly…that made me feel better. I'd been so paranoid when he was being a nice old man. It just didn't fit with my image of what gods were. I sighed, then pushed back my chair. I was about to get up, but I realized that at the very least, I should CHECK what kind of protection he'd laid on me. I held up a finger for Aiden to wait, and then I closed my eyes and entered my ring of Pride.
My library looked the same as ever. Mostly. Except one difference. There was a second pedestal like the one my Chronicle sat on, a bright white stone plinth above which floated a book made of living purple flame, bound in violet lightning. In the flickers of the flames, runes and stats danced and leapt, rearranging and recombining infinitely, as if driven by the fire like an engine. I grinned down at it, then looked back at my ancestor as I left. "Thanks old man," I told him sincerely. And you know? I swore I saw him smirk a little as I got up to leave. Sneaky bastard.