But for a Slime

Clawing from the Depths - Prologue

A Little Over 32 Galyears Ago.

He stood in his private study and stared out over all he had conquered, and while the moment should have been one of great joy, it was marred by the deaths of several of his greatest friends, and the capture of another. He grit his teeth with some anger, even considering dismissing his peace form to allow his rage full release, but took a deep breath and calmed himself.

Before him, the entire Great cycle was displayed, a great sweeping of stars from one end of the void to another, every one now in his grasp and controlled by him, but he was still not satisfied. The magic of the display read his desire easily enough and the display exploded away from him, the four armed cycle of trillions of stars vanished into a tiny point in the distance as the display zoomed outward and several other close cycles of stars came into view, each containing trillions of stars, with each star holding possibly two or even more cradles. Yet, the unfathomable distance between his cycle and the others stymied him and his people. But… with time… with time, I may…

He sighed, closing his eyes and prepared himself. He calmed himself, and called to duty. And duty called him, responding. Duty demanded an emperor, and so the Emperor stepped forth. Emperor of the Great Cycle, Lord of All Within Sight, Ruler of the Starry Path, King of all Cradles, and Ancient One Supreme turned from the display and looked down from his throne platform upon the last of the rebellion, gaze imperial and face impassive. The Emperor waved casually and the barrier that was blocking sound between his peace and the rebels shattered with obvious Presence.

The chattering cries and sobbing of the rebels below quickly stilled as all noticed the return of the Emperor’s gaze. He swept it across the people, none able to maintain within his presence but one.

Aelthron stood before him without wilting, still righteously certain in his cause and the Emperor struggled to keep his composure as bitter anger and despair rippled through him. Just… admit it. Bow your proud neck, foolish friend! Do not… Hope flared as Aelthron bowed, but then wilted in despair when he saw it was the bow of a loyal subject to his Emperor and the Emperor sighed deeply.

“My lord.”

The Emperor ground his teeth once again, struggling to withhold a sigh, “Aelthron.”

“Please. Do not do this. This is not…”

“Aelthron. Will you do nothing to help me?”

Aelthron paused at that, and sad despair tugged at the corners of his eyes and lips. It was almost enough to break the Emperor and Aelthron sealed his fate.

“I am helping you, my lord. Please. This great working upon our great cycle is a curse. All our stars… every cradle of every star in our great cycle… please. It is not…”

“Aelthron. Please. Enough.”

Aelthron stared at him, and bowed deeper, as a slave to his master, and almost the Emperor receded as Aelthron’s friend wished to step forward to lift Aelthron back to his feet. But the Emperor firmed, and the desires of a friend receded back deep into his mind.

“My lord. I beg you. What you do isn’t…”

Rage violently erupted within the Emperor’s heart, uncontrollable and all consuming. Why! Why!

“Enough! Take him away! It is done, Aelthron. You are no longer permitted in my presence. You have failed, and you are banished!”

“My lord!” Taglisea stepped forward with this, concern easily noticed on her strange features, her race still one the Emperor had never taken the time to discover.

Instantly, calm returned to him, Taglisea’s presence always a boon to him, and he replied softly to her, “Taglisea. I have listened to you. That is enough.”

“But…”

“Taglisea,” the Emperor replied softly but firmly, “He is banished. Take his weakest cradle, as you said. It will be his last and only.”

The Emperor then turned to Aelthron, “You cannot leave this cradle. You and all your people are banished to it.”

Aelthron stared at him with sadness but this time said nothing and the Emperor thanked his friend for that final acquiescence even as bitter anger swept through him. He turned away, not wishing to see his friend any longer, the pain of it grinding his heart to dust. Aelthron… Loki… Karnagur… Sylnarvion… Tsnalla! He turned back to stare at his completed conquest, the entire Cycle now under his control. One… only one…

* * *

The rebellion did not end, the recalcitrant members that were still free putting in continual effort to remain thorns in the Emperor’s side, but the Ruler of the Starry Path willingly placed the effort into the hands of his best subordinate. And Taglisea did extremely well.

* * *

A Year or Two Later…

Maerln Karnagur cursed as he fled from Taglisea’s compound, his soldiers with him on the raid falling to their deaths much too quickly for their power and strength. Curse her! How is she so strong? Where is she from?! How did she do this? The Karnagur magicians held well enough, although their shields popped like soap bubbles when any of Taglisea’s clan home traps and defenses targeted them. The Sylnarvion clan martial artists fared much worse, their short range attacks leaving them little time to react.

Still, their only chance at discovering Taglisea’s origins and purpose lay hidden within her home. What they had found had been alien, but useless as there was nothing to take and ultimately no proof. Nothing to convince the Emperor! Still, their search had been swift and diligent, exchanging lives for a desperate hope. That hope was matched when they found an odd cube, approximately the size of a fist, sitting in place of prominence and more defended than anything else within the holdings.

They had snatched the cube and fled before Taglisea could return, for if she did so, none would escape alive. Almost all had died, and only one in ten survived to flee from her home and cradle.

Taglisea, of course, had noticed the infiltration, and returned home as quickly as she could. When the defenses surrounding her personal Library were triggered, her calm if infuriated return quickly turned to panic and she pushed herself to greater speed. Her small increase in speed proved for naught, and when she returned, she found her home littered with the remains of the infiltrators, if only pieces of them. Yet, the evidence proved meaningless and she screamed in rage. The Library was gone.

* * *

Decades Later; About 32 Galyears ago.

Taglisea stomped down the hallway in anger. She had long lost patience. She had done her duty to this worthless cycle and the Emperor that ran it, building the prison that would house Aelthron and his people. She’d struggled over the last few decades to find her Library, but failed, the rebels a few steps ahead of her. All that exacerbated by this Emperor’s foolish attempt to cater to Aelthron, despite all her efforts to influence the Emperor. Kill the man and be done with it! Why waste so much time on this! Just… She ground her teeth and clamped a fist hard down upon her frustration.

There was no little frustration however little she could do. The Emperor was willing to take advice from other subordinates and was capable of doing so simply because she’d crippled her own resonance working. Her great working that allowed her to influence the Emperor of this backwater cycle of stars had sacrificed peripheral exigencies both to save on precious resources and to empower her influence to focus upon the great working that would ultimately hobble this Great cycle. Yet, Aelthron’s influence over the emperor was still too strong, especially in areas not pertaining to the great working her own Emperor, the Lord of the Great Vast, had sent her to do, and her efforts stymied by the Ruler of the Starry Paths’ need to appropriately respond to his best friend’s rebellion.

Despite Aelthron’s banishment, the Emperor still regularly met with Aelthron, attempting to plead with the man to return him to his side. Taglisea would be concerned if not for the fact that her influence could not be overcome, not by simple friendship. Still… it is delayed! Delayed too long… but today…

Today was the day that Aelthron and his cradle would be hobbled, his people appropriately banished and Taglisea could return to accomplishing the work her great Emperor, the Lord of the Great Vast, demanded. Then… I can return home… after finding the Library!

She stepped upon the platform housed on the first planet surrounding the last cradle of Aelthron, a weak thing crippled and unable to develop matrix. This, at least, she had convinced the Emperor of this backwater cycle to do; keeping the best of Aelthron’s cradles for himself and his people. If they were to cripple a great Cradle, Taglisea could only bear the shame of it when she reported back to her Emperor.

Still, the working was not to her liking. Several aspects of the working strayed dangerously close to forbidden knowledge. She had reported such to her Emperor, yet the Lord of the Great Vast had ignored her warnings. She accepted her Emperor’s superior wisdom and had also restrained herself from affecting things as her Emperor, the Lord of the Great Vast, replied only with a single focus, to complete the great working. And so she had devoted herself first to completing this frustrating work on Aelthron’s Cradle as the Ruler of the Starry Path refused to bend. She glanced across the ritual, and found another cause for concern, even as the ritual formed, its strange construction tickling at her memory.

My Library… Anger surfaced. She’d been searching for it for several years now, struggling to seek out the Library until she’d found a way to trace the subtle mana fluctuations of the Library. It was subtle, and difficult, requiring her own Resonance and ritual, each use expensive and costly. She’d just returned from her last attempt, but the rebels were growing ever cannier and flightier. They now kept significant long range patrols specifically targeting her movements, fearful of losing the Library. But she’d prepared this time. She’d put great effort in gathering the materials for the Resonance, doubling up her needs. The first was simply to flush the Library out of its current locations and defenses. After this farce with the Aelthron’s banishment, she would enact the Resonance again, homing in on the signal her Library echoed out into the mana space. Of couse, she would wait another month or two just to make sure that the rebels had chosen a new base of operations, but soon enough after that she might be able to attack before the defenses were complete. Then… She grinned, a feral snarl of anger and confident certainty of her plans as she returned to the moment.

She stepped upon the stage and gazed upon the great Resonance. She looked upon it, impressed, for although the people here were in no small way weak and backwards, their ability to work Resonance was impressive. She’d reported as much, but it appeared that her Emperor and her Emperor’s master could not see the benefit of it. She, herself, wondered upon it as Resonances took significant effort, time, and material. They were, for all intents and purposes, worthless but for preparation. Their usefulness likely too weak to be of any meaning. Still, the working they would bring to bear upon this cradle would be impressive, overarching in all things and powerful. Although… if this could be used to empower…

The ritual was burnt into the very foundation of the stone and swirled around her feet in arcane sigils and symbols, drawing upon the intent of the Dao in powerful ways that she could not understand. In this, they were her clear superior, and she had half a mind to return with some of their greatest ritual engravers and runic daoists. It would greatly enhance her clan and her Emperor. But the great work came first.

She’d remained rather aloof to the whole process, finding the work rather boring. Still, she couldn’t surrender her place at the Emperor’s side, wishing to maintain her influence.

* * *

Aelthron stood looking over the great working, standing silently as he watched it all play out. Aelthron had been called forth from his home, a comfortable place for all the banishment and prison that it was, to see the final working that would see the completion and totality of his punishment placed not only upon him, but also the entire rebellion. He could only hope some few of his descendants and odd family member here or there might survive, free from what this cradle would become. I’m sorry, old friend. I had no desire for this to be the outcome.

A great stirring in the manasphere echoed throughout the region, the entirety of the cradle responding to him as the Cradle swept forth, offering its own despair and upset at what was happening. A soft reply of sorrow came then passed and the guards and various workers that were enacting the great Resonance paused, swept up in the moment as fear and uncertainty froze them before they cautiously returned to their work. His Emperor turned to stare down at him.

“I wish you would not startle the people so.”

Aelthron turned to his friend and Emperor to his side, offering a smile of humor for an old friend liberally smothered in despair, “I was simply saying hello to a dear friend.”

His Emperor snorted and shook his head but said nothing, the disagreement an old thing that had faded to humorous jabs they often tossed at one another. For a moment, Aelthron felt the return of the friendship. The joy bringing a true smile to his face and real enjoyment of the moment before it quickly soured and he sighed. His Emperor noticed and also soured, his lips curling into a bitter grimace of a smile.

They fell silent, unwilling to return to the millennia old argument and they both sighed, allowing it to drop to at least enjoy the moment. They watched on, days passing without them really moving, their insane lifespan allowing them to view days as just another few moments together.

When the ritual was complete, the Emperor sighed, then his face hardened even as his spine straightened and the Emperor turned to look at him, “It is time.”

“Yes, my Emperor,” Aelthron replied with a dip of his head, bowing as a proper citizen to his lord.

The Emperor stared at him, uncertainty flickering across his face again before hardening and Aelthron hid his urge to sigh. There really was no hope. It was done. Almost, Aelthron considered doing something. Revolting in a wild rage hoping that something might happen, but his people were here and anything he could do would simply evaporate before his Emperor's vast and superior power. He followed obediently, only hoping that proof of his submission might in some way touch his master, but it seemed it was not to be.

They stepped to the ritual, each component prepared and set to the side, including a young just born babe, prepared to be the spirit. Aelthron hid his discomfort at it and sidled over to sit beside the babe in its ritual crib; a prepared sacrifice. Aelthron ignored all else and bent over to play with the child.

“Hello! How are you! Yes… how are you!? Who’s a good baby? Yes you are! You are such a good baby.”

Aelthron played with the child as best he could, gaining a few giggles and happy coos. He was still uncertain how to interact with such children; his people not ones for having infants nor infants so weak and dependent upon their mothers. He had seen, however, enough of his followers and how they acted with their children and pets. It seemed to work and he settled in next to the baby to keep it company. His Emperor scowled down at him, disapproving, but in these last moments, Aelthron found himself rather uncaring and kept his focus on the young child.

His Emperor huffed and turned away, meandering over to his people. As always, the Emperor’s massive power was awe inspiring and terrifying in equal measure even as his Presence billowed out to encompass the entire area. Aelthron sighed, and ignored the working. Mana swelled and the various reagents and materials glowed, melted, flowed, or evaporated as they were used, and still, Aelthron stared down at the young child, a wistful smile on his face.

The ritual continued, the Resonance swelling and soon the time came for the completion of the ritual where the intelligent spirit was grafted into the ritual. Not all rituals demanded such, but many of the most useful did so, and his Emperor was not taking any chances, reinforcing this Resonance with an intelligent guardian.

Aelthron glanced up to see his Emperor standing within the center of the ritual, invisible power welling from him in a way all could feel, and the reagent connecting the Emperor to the small child Aelthron occupied began to react with the mana, the line of it slowing receding from the Emperor towards the child. Aelthron glanced back down at the child, then turned to look back up at his Emperor. Time immobilized, the reagent’s reaction with the mana suddenly frozen in the moment. The moment crystalized, and all around him seemed to stop as Aelthron glanced back down at the small child, resting within the location prepared for it to be consumed as another component for the ritual. Aelthron breathed, then smiled.

“There is no need for this, child. Why should you suffer for my failure… my folly.”

Aelthron lifted the child and crib from the ritual and stepped inside, taking the place of the spirit that would soon inhabit the Resonance.

His Emperor did not know, his eyes closed in deep focus, but when the ritual ended and he came to awareness again, his glance over filled with sorrow turned to surprised horror tinged with rage.

“What have you done!?”

Aelthron smiled softly in return and bowed deeply, “Goodbye my Emperor.”

* * *

Taglisea cursed, enraged by the folly of Aelthron once again. Stupid fool… does he not understand who Aelthron is? Of course the idiot would sacrifice himself for chattel. The foolish Emperor had raged for a time, angered at Aelthron’s actions while simultaneously bemoaning the sad fate of his friend. They had spoken for a time, the Emperor sitting in vigil with his friend for a month or more. As luck would have it, Aelthron’s spirit had inhabited its place without issue, now controlling one of the greatest rituals Taglisea had ever seen and the greatest in this puny Great Cycle.

Taglisea had stood by the Emperor while he mourned in vigil, speaking with Aelthron and reminiscing. But as the month turned into two, Taglisea grew antsy, her own needs to seek out her Library pressing upon her. When the Emperor finally accepted his friend’s folly, he stood and left, and passed on an onerous duty to her.

“Taglisea. Silence Aelthron. He cannot be made to pass on his sedition to his people, and I know not why he has done this thing. But you will work to contain him while not limiting his capability to enact the work. He has chosen this, he will bear this.”

“Yes, Emperor.”

The Emperor of the Great Cycle, Lord of All Within Sight, Ruler of the Starry Path, King of all Cradles, and Ancient One Supreme stood and walked away from his deepest and last friend, and Taglisea fought hard to stifle the small grin, seeing his drooping shoulders, then grimaced remembering her new duty.

She waited until the Emperor had left, then waited longer before turning to the ritualists that were still there, “You heard the Emperor. Blind and mute the rebel. The traitor cannot speak with any of his followers.”

Taglisea turned and only kept her movement to bare acceptability as she sped to the nearest interstellar gate.

The speed with which she returned to her compound was matched by the slowness with which it took to prepare the new ritual over the next week or two. But when she finally enacted it, her impatience was released and she sped through gate after gate until she reached the closest destination then sped through the blackness of space between planes. Almost always the facilities were placed on small barren chunks of rock floating at the extreme edges of Absence; one of the few places people could go to be relatively private. Her own compound was placed in such a location as well, the greatest and strongest almost always seeking remote privacy, although some simply claimed an entire plane for themselves and evicted all others if the Cradle could be convinced to allow it.

Her gut proved accurate and her immediate beeline towards one of the nearest polar Absence of the Cradle revealed that the Library was not on any plane surrounding the Cradle but luck was not with her, and she had to reverse and head in the other direction as the signal grew a bit weaker.

Cursing, she flipped and sped down beneath the plane of the circling moons of the cradle and grinned with malice as the signal quickly swelled in power. Her joy turned sour when massive rituals began firing weaponry that even she had to fear, and she slowed to deal with them, dodging weapons fire and defending where she must as she worked to both destroy shields and silence weapons rituals.

Still, the efforts only slowed her slightly, and it was with grim satisfaction she found herself within the facility and away from the massive rituals that posed a threat to her. She stalked the halls, easily killing all around her, and relentlessly pursued the path towards her Library. Behind her, her people spread out and began taking control of the facility and any memory crystals, killing all they found.

The path was convoluted and while she stalked the hallways with enjoyment as she ruthlessly killed those who’d stolen from her, she found her impatience swelling through her and turned from the hallway to punch a hole through the wall, stepping into an empty room. The tug of the Library came slightly off to her right, and she strode across the room to blast another hole, finding herself in another room full of screaming children.

She grimaced, ignoring the kids while firing off a few beams, killing the several guardians and nurses scattered amongst the kids. The kids could be taken and trained later by her people, if they survived.

She sped across the room and blasted another hole in the wall, uncaring of directing the blast, although most of it exploded outwards, away from her. Another hallway met her view, the path still angled directly across from her. A door stood just to the right that the path indicated so she exploded through the doorway and continued on, blasting ever inwards through concentric rings of hallways and rooms until she could almost taste her library. She slowed, then frowned with a curse as she immediately sped down the hallway. A gate! She cursed, moving at her greatest speed towards the spatial fluctuation, rapidly killing all in her path until she came to a massive defensive mana shield she knew would take her much too long and she paused, expanding her Presence out to seek out any form of entrance.

She frowned with a grimace, finding nothing that could hint of a way in but then grinned when she noticed several figures standing and waiting at careful attention. She quickly swept her focus around the shielded room, taking in all other people surrounding the large spherical shield but found them moving in ways that seemed to represent the rapid and terrified actions of those packing or preparing to flee. Only this one area had a good four or six individuals, unmoving and hyper focused. Her grin grew once again and she bee lined directly to those individuals, blasting through walls and doors without concern, taking damage as the force of her attacks had detritus exploding outward and ricocheting back, leaving small streaks of blood on her skin as some lucky few got past her defenses or harmed her.

When she came close, she quickly veered away, her original intent of blasting into the side of the guards averted by the massive extension of the shield protecting the sides and allowing only a single way in. Her Presence had flowed in through the opening which, now that she was here and able to feel the mana within the defenses, easily revealed the entrance. A massive shielded hallway that would leave her open to anything that may be guarding the long hallway in.

She punched her way out into a hallway that was perpendicular to the entrance and immediately set herself up against the side of the long hallway entrance before glancing out into the hallway before pulling her head back with a curse. Really? Another? How…

Her thoughts turned to the other direction, wondering how they planned to fire such a massive ritual weapon indoors and what collateral damage would be done, but noticed that everything beyond the hallway was essentially a massive column of untouched stone. No one lived in that column through which the beam would pass.

She stepped out in full view, but the soldiers were too wise, simply waiting for her and she cursed, finding herself frozen in indecision. They would not fire until she was committed, but if she were to attempt to rush into the hallway, she would have no defenses of any kind. She might survive, but she would be so crippled that killing her after would be simple. She grit her teeth in anger, then dashed down the hallway before quickly reversing course, but her attempt to bait a firing failed, and the man inhabiting the defensive ritual only twitched, preparing, but not firing.

She turned her eyes to studying her options, then cursed in rage when she felt the spatial ripples as the gate powered up and erupted outward. Fury billowed out and she began attacking from her place, firing massive mana constructs into the hallway even as the defenders did their best to protect the ritual and buy time.

There was little they could do, however, and nothing holding Taglisea back, now that the Library had been taken once again. Even when a massive swelling of power caught at Taglisea’s thoughts and the glow of a young being borrowing way too much power, barely contained, attacked her with a ferocity that was almost admirable. But nothing could stop her… not within this Great cycle. Taglisea flattened the facility in a rage, stopping only when she thought she might rip some knowledge of her Library’s location from a mind, but none she found knew.

It took her almost another year to gather the materials to enact another ritual, sending forth the Resonance to locate her Library. And when she did so, her patience had long worn thin and she waited with baited breath for the Library’s location to form in her mind. When nothing occurred, she cursed in anger and studied her ritual for failure. When none was found, she immediately enacted a second, having carefully gathered materials for a good half a dozen rituals this time, but found no answering call. When she enacted her third, with all the power should could muster, and no answering call came from her Library, she raged for only a time before fleeing to her sanctuary and cowered in fear. She’d lost the Library.

It took her almost a year to gain the courage to return to her task; to cripple this Great Cycle and its Emperor for her own Emperor. And make him Eighteen Times Conqueror! She devoted herself to it with a passion, hoping success might temper her Emperor’s ire.

* * *

The ritualists, after having been given the command to silence Aelthron by Taglisea, diligently bent their work towards blinding and muting the man. He could not speak or communicate with anyone, not for those in his now final and only cradle. And so, over the next many months, they cautiously constructed the ritual curse, seeking the most powerful yet least costly way to enact the curse.

Curses caused a great debt, ballooning in mana cost and even in fracturing the foundation of those who dabbled in them. But there were methods and ways to reduce the costs of curses, even to remove the cost of any who followed the Dao. Cursing another often caused the curse to return fully on the one who enacted the curse as well. But if a curse was cast upon no one, no karmic debt was sown.

With careful consideration and wise planning, the ritualists quickly developed a powerful curse against all those who were to be judged as criminal and placed upon a plane at Aelthron’s Cradle. A careful check had shown almost none of Aelthron’s people had sat in judgment, still technically held for judgment. The curse would be light, almost free in cost. But when any were judged and banished to any plane of Aelthtron’s cradle, they would be cursed. Thus the karmic cost would be quite light, possibly even free if they could convince those judged to be freed for future judgment.

Blinded to sight.

Muted to sound.

Forever without might.

So let this curse abound.

No speech by Cradle’s kind.

Shall the people of Aelthron find.

For all connection to Patriarch and Spirit

Shall there be a full and complete limit

Dao Bound.

Hope Lost.

Lashed Sound.

Sight Cost.

Heaven’s Hidden.

Legacy Riven.

Points Severed.

Skills Sundered.

Dashed Path.

Crushed Fate.

Fortune Ash.

Cursed Gate.

Let all judged who step foot upon Aelthron’s planes

Be found cursed by Aelthron’s pains.

With the curse complete, the ritualists scattered, returning to homes and work. Several of the leading ritualists struggled to return to their previous employment, their offices and buildings no longer a hospitable environment.

* * *

A Few Years Later an Unimaginable Distance Away.

Hmm? Lost? Strange… how could it be lost? Nothing within the mana field could be lost to me. How…

Anlar Noo winced in pain and returned to protecting his cultivation with a moan.

* * *

Shortly After.

The Lord of the Great Vast, Ruler of the Jewel, Seventeen Times Conqueror, and soon to be Twenty three, stared out the window into the vastness of the cosmos. He found his shoulders slumped and despair weighing heavy upon him. He’d been struggling in conquering the other six Great cycles that would soon have him at Twenty Three Times Conqueror, five of the massive stellar clusters of stars easily enough dealt with, but the sixth proving increasingly difficult.

But even with that, what had him cowering before his window as he stared at his next hopeful conquest, a beautiful four armed spiral Great cycle with billions of stars, was the weight of his Master’s Presence pressing upon him. His Master was angered; greatly angered. He stood awaiting the target of his ire and when Taglisea arrived, he almost feared that his Master would still strike her down. He waited, cautiously and Taglisea wisely also held her silence. He waited silently, then felt his Master give his approval.

The Lord of the Great Vast, Ruler of the Jewel, and Seventeen Times Conqueror struggled to hold in his sigh but could not, turning to face her and hardening his demeanor, “Report.”

“Sire. The great work is finished. They will pose no threat,” Taglisea replied with significantly more poise, business-like and without the warmth of their usual friendship. It calmed his heart to know she’d retreated to a formal stance, knowing his Master would take it better.

“It was effective?”

“As you predicted. Very effective. Your genius is boundless, to think of such a plan.”

The Lord of the Great Vast struggled to stifle his sigh, his success seemingly not bringing joy, “Of course it’s effective.”

The Lord of the Great Vast burned under the humorous laughter he felt from his Master, and his rage burned even more. Of course it was effective… it worked on us! It destroyed US! His anger was barely contained, but Taglisea was unable to notice his rage as he turned away to stare out into the illusion displaying the Great four armed spiral Cycle.

For his Master, he had little to do but keep his face controlled, as only his Master’s remote Presence was there, pressing down upon him and making certain the work was completed as demanded. It would be quite difficult for his Master to notice his fidgeting or awkward movments, although even if he did, his Master seemed to find joy in his suffering.

As Taglisea froze in uncertain concern, the Lord of the Great Vast wrestled with his anger and calmed himself before finally turning to face Taglisea fully this time, almost unable to hide the relief that rushed through him at seeing her still healthy and strong. Taglisea said nothing, uncertainty washing over her. She remained silent for some moments, refusing to move and waited patiently for him. Now to play this farce for Master. He hid his grimace and began.

“Ah, yes. Taglisea. Excellent. Well done. Return and maintain your post. Send reports every decade.”

Taglisea blinked at this, worry quickly flooding her, “Sire! I…” She stopped abruptly when his eyes narrowed, anger coursing across his face even as his heart burned with bitter anger at what he had to do.

His eyes bored into her before he finally sighed and dropped his head, a hand raising to scrub a forehead in exhausted frustration, “My apologies, Taglisea. You do not deserve this. Please, what have you to say?”

The Lord of the Great Vast winced when he felt the pressure of Master’s Presence suddenly swell, but his Master made no move, only focused more fully upon him, disapproval easily felt as it burned into him.

“Sire. I have been there… a long time. I believe my term was complete with the completion of the great work?” Taglisea rightly replied.

The Lord of the Great Vast struggled to keep his face firm and demeanor harsh as he enacted his Master’s punishment. But I will find some way…

“Taglisea, I am sorry. The war goes badly. Our conquest is delayed far longer than we had hoped. I must go to the front; I’ve already been to the front.”

Taglisea gasped when she heard the news even as his Master’s Presence turned from a firm hand to a burning anger that shredded at his being, his very Dao and spirit under attack, not causing any meaningful harm, but simply to induce a soul shuddering pain. His eye’s flinched, even as he struggled to keep from gritting his teeth as he looked back at her, struggling to hide the pain as it washed through him. He fought it for a time before finally being able to continue.

“You must stay. We… we do not know when the conquest will be complete. Return and report every decade, as normal. I will send a replacement as soon as possible. Please.”

Taglisea seemed to notice his fervor and desperation, even as her eyes searched his before finally bowing and accepting his request.

“Yes, my Emperor. I hear and obey.”

She turned and left and the Lord of the Great Vast finally released a groan as he struggled up under his Master’s ire.

“This is not what we agreed upon, little lord.”

“Master. I could not reveal you to her.”

His Master paused at that before huffing and pulling his Presence back from scouring against his soul. His Master fell silent for a time, although his Presence was still very much there so he stood and waited patiently. It took some time, much more than the Emperor really found pleasant but he refused to move, fear keeping him bound to his stance until his Master finally replied.

“You did as I asked, but not as I desired. You will not communicate or speak with her. She is banished and she is to no longer have communication with you.”

“Master! Pleas…” his cry for mercy immediately swelled in pitch and volume to a painful shriek until he was finally able to reply in the midst of his shriek, knowing it would not stop until he’d done so.

“Yeessssshh! MAsTerrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!”

With his acquiescence, his Master’s Presence vanished from the room and the Lord of the Great Vast collapsed to the ground, struggling to regain his equilibrium even as pain echoed through his very being. And when his pain had subsided to the point he could think again, he cursed. He cursed many things: himself, his own greed and lust for power, Taglisea’s folly, and the cursed Library. He cursed his master quite a bit more than all these things. But most of all, he cursed himself for ever having accepted his Master’s gift of the Library, and for gifting it to Taglisea.

* * *

Aelthron floated within his self-imposed prison and stared out at his people. He’d had no intention of becoming the managing spirit of the ritual, but now that he was here, he burned with some excitement at the possibilities. Granted, the curse after had been subtly shifted, taking in account his actions. The original curse likely was against the system itself, and a weak babe had almost no karmic presence and was quite susceptible to suggestion and change, even that which caused self-destruction.

If Aelthron had to guess, the curse had to shift, targeting the plane or the people upon the plane, his power too great to be cursed reasonably and very few willing to take any backlash such an imbalance would bring against them, even if it was spread across dozens or even hundreds of curse ritualists.

So, Aelthron began to work. It was a struggle. The commands placed upon him through the ritual were absolute, but like all commands, cautious planning and intelligence could undermine everything, so he waited patiently. This left him in despair as he watched some of his closest friends dying quite young, their meteoric rise to the heavens cut short and their points ripped from them as they returned to mortality. And when he tried to reach out to them, they heard nothing and offered no response. His attempts at stealthy contact changed to full on shouts but none could hear him and none could communicate with him.

Slowly, everyone he knew died, and he was left watching the children, then the grandchildren, and soon great great great grandchildren of people long lost to him and he had no reason to reach out to them. His despair only deepened to see his friend’s children all crippled, forever mortals with the heavens blocked and immortality an impossibility. He fell into despondency, and mechanically enacted the commands placed upon him without much care, lost in his own despair until a small change occurred that stoked his ire.

Prisoners were often brought to his Cradle now, and they were brought in about every year. He did not know when, nor did he notice when as watching immortals brought to his plane only to have their points ripped from them like so much wool or hair, their points and power scattering into the manasphere, left him nauseated. But several of the guards began to cultivate in that moment, and they found great success, capturing dozens, even hundreds of mana points and accelerating cultivation by weeks or even months with a single moment. Like ghouls ripping into the corpses of their own kind, the guards fed on the prisoner’s power and success, taking it for their own, and Aelthron felt bile rise within his own non-existent throat. His disgust remained for some time, but then a simple change occurred that stoked his rage. The clans must have heard of this great boon, and guardianship of his Cradle was now shifted every year or decade, times changing across the dozens of Galyears but each time a batch of prisoners arrived, the Gate would be surrounded by dozens, and soon hundreds or thousands of cultivators of the current clan guarding the cradle. Old monsters, guards, and young elites the clan was developing surrounded and fought for the prize of meditating closest to the gate, hoping to catch the thousands, millions, and billions of points that were stripped from the judged as they stepped foot on this plane, their points scattering into the mana sphere and suffusing the area with a massive number of points so great that it was almost child’s play for those surrounding the prisoners to leech off the prisoners’ cultivation and claim it for themselves.

Aelthron saw this, and raged through his nausea. This? This is what you fought for, my Emperor? To turn your clans into leeches? Vampires? No true power but to steal from those who have been diligent?

Aelthron turned his great intellect to offering the descendants of his friends the opportunity for freedom and even power despite the heavens being shrouded to them. It took many years. So many he lost track of time, but with his efforts, he found great success marred by mediocre execution. He found that skills had somehow been divorced from mana points and he was capable of enhancing people’s base capabilities despite how the ritual had originally been enacted to cripple them. So, he attempted to reveal a path.

Yet, none could hear him, and despite his efforts and striving, the people soon gave up on understanding the gift he offered, any attempt at communication he’d learned, through crystal, spell, speech, or mana, was locked down so completely he could not reach out to any. His efforts were stillborn before they could even bear fruit; the curse too complete.

He tried for so long and so hard, but repeated failure over millennia soon had him retreating in despair and seeking solace in the only place he could find, deep within his memories and dreams.