Death: Genesis

Outside of the Pillar, Zeke stood before the gathered people, his eyes flicking from one to the next until they settled on Kianma and Silik, standing in the center. The pair looked much the same as always – one a hulking brute of a kobold, the other much smaller and slimmer, though with a sense of dignity few could manage – but there was something else there, as well. Was it pride? Maybe. Or it could have been simple satisfaction. That made sense, too. Whatever the case, the pair practically glowed with authority, which was precisely the point of the entire exercise.

To the left were two others. Eta, Zeke recognized, but there was a dwarf there he’d only met in passing and whose name he couldn’t remember. Timaso, the lionkin who’d become the de factor leader of the tower’s beastkin population was present as well. To the right, there was a centaur and a human. The final participant was Adara, looking as if she wished to be anywhere but in front of thousands of people.

Out of her armor, the former Knight of Adontis was just as impressive as when she’d worn it, with plenty of muscle to suggest what Zeke expected was considerable strength. However, there was a definite cast of femininity about her that he found appealing.

“How cute,” said Eveline. “You have a crush.”

Zeke didn’t deny it outright. Instead, he inwardly replied, “I can find someone attractive without it being a crush. Besides, I don’t like that word. It sounds so immature.”

“And yet, it’s a perfect descriptor for what’s going through your mind. You should just take her,” Eveline advised. “She seemed amenable.”

“I’m not listening to you right now,” he muttered to himself.

Indeed, he had other, far more important things on his mind than his nonexistent love life. Because over the past few days, and after quite a lot of going back and forth, he’d settled on a structure for his new government. Each of the tower’s races was represented, though Kianma and Silik were unquestionably in charge. Zeke had impressed upon them the gravity of impartiality, as well as how important it was that they look out for the tower’s – and his – best interest over anything else. They had responded well, claiming to understand his orders. Yet, he was still nervous about how it would all work out.

The most controversial inclusion was, of course, Adara. Despite her surrender, she was, ostensibly, still the enemy. However, after quite a lot of discussion, it had been decided that the captive Knights needed representation as well. So, she was the obvious choice.

“Obvious because of your crush. There were higher-ranking Knights that could have –”

“Enough.”

“I’m just saying –”

“I know what you’re saying, Eveline,” Zeke stated. “But I’ve heard it a hundred times already. I don’t need to hear it again.”

Zeke wanted to believe that his reasoning hadn’t been affected by his admiration for the woman, but he knew that wasn’t completely true. He just didn’t want to be reminded of it. Regardless, he stood by his decision, largely because Adara had been the first to petition for better treatment for the imprisoned Knights. Still, he wouldn’t have done it if they hadn’t found an elf who had a skill related to Framework contracts. With that in hand, he’d had no problem with releasing Adara.

And he hoped he could release the other Knights soon as well. Some of them – most of which had been confined to the fortresses within the labyrinth – had already professed their innocence. But there was no way he was going to let any of them run loose without some protections in place. As far as Zeke knew, Framework contracts were foolproof, but there was no limit to the knowledge he lacked. So, there was every chance that they could find someone to remove the restrictions of any contract he could force them to sign.

Yet, it was better than simply executing them.

“Agree to disagree on that one,” Eveline said.

Zeke ignored her. Instead, he spoke aloud, “You are the first Council of the Tower. I expect each of you to work toward the greater good. If you cannot come to a consensus based on the rules we have established, then I will step in. Believe me when I say that you do not want that. Do you understand?”

They all professed that they did.

For all intents and purposes, he was the final authority within the Crimson Tower. With a thought, he could restrict anyone inside, both in terms of where they could go and regarding their actual power. And that wasn’t even considering the degree to which he exceeded their personal might. There was a time when even the average Knight would have given him trouble; Zeke well remembered having a brutal fight with a kobold legionnaire back in the Rainbow Forest. However, his power had grown exponentially since then, and now, only the elites of the realm could truly challenge him.

And soon enough, even they would fail in that endeavor.

“Don’t get too big of a head. There are still plenty of people out there who can and will kill you,” Eveline reminded him. “That Blood Wraith wyrm you left back in Min Ferilik is still alive, and I can guarantee that you wouldn’t last more than a few seconds against him.”

“I know.”

“And from what I can tell, Adontis is nothing,” she went on. “Cast-offs, has-beens, and a bunch of never-wases. Conquering this kingdom is no great accomplishment.”

“We haven’t conquered anything yet,” Zeke stated. Indeed, they’d accomplished a lot, but the war was not finished. Half of Adontis still remained under the thumb of the Knights. Until the last of them were dead, subdued, or imprisoned, Zeke knew he and his army wouldn’t be safe.

“We will not disappoint you, Ak-Toh,” said Kianma, placing her hand over her chest and bowing her colorfully plumed head. The rest mimicked her salute.

“Good,” he replied. “Now, let’s get down to business.”

And they did. At first, Zeke paid close attention, but he quickly lost interest when they began discussing the minutiae of the tower’s inner workings. There were a couple of highlights. First, Sasha approached the Council to request that a school be founded so she and a few like-minded scholars could embark on a quest to instruct the young. Kianma supported it, and the Council approved it unanimously.

After that, Eta gave a report on food production, which she followed up with a request for more laborers. It seemed that the recent arrests had taken quite a bite out of her work force, and she needed bodies to replace them. The council chose to allocate some kobolds to temporarily alleviate the shortage, which was enough to satisfy Eta.

Following that issue being resolved, there were a dozen other subjects covered. More than anything, that reaffirmed Zeke’s certainty that he’d made the right decision, because he couldn’t imagine devoting the time or brainpower to doing any of that himself. It was bad enough that he’d committed to attending the first public meeting. If he had to repeat the appearance even once a week, he would have gone insane.

However, there was one subject that interested him, and that was combat training. When that topic was broached, Adara stepped up and offered to lead the way by establishing a martial training academy. Not to be outdone, Silik volunteered to teach the kobold way of fighting as well. After that, there were three others who pushed for their inclusion, and just like that, they faculty for the academy was established.

Zeke expected that it would be quite popular going forward, though the war meant that training had taken a bit of a back seat to everything else of late. That would certainly change once they’d defeated the forces of Adontis.

After that had been taken care of, Zeke once again lost interest, and soon enough, the session ended. Though he was happy to see that the would-be instructors of both the martial academy as well as the school broke off into their own, mixed groups, presumably to hammer out the details. Zeke hoped that the spirit of cooperation would continue.

“Thus begins a new era of the Crimson Tower,” Eveline said.

“Don’t be so dramatic. It’s not that big of a chance,” Zeke insisted, though he wasn’t sure if he completely believed that. The establishment of a government was a huge step toward his people’s development, and the ideas of an academy and school made so much sense that he wondered how he’d never considered either of them before.

“Because you spend almost all your time bashing people’s skulls in,” Eveline remarked.

Zeke couldn’t really disagree with that. That was why he’d wanted to establish the council in the first place. If the residents of the Crimson Tower could govern themselves, then that meant he’d be free to pursue his own goals. For instance, he still had quite a lot of work to do if he was going to upgrade his current skills as well as prepare himself for when he gained the opportunity to make more. In addition, his attempts to inoculate himself to his own Will – or rather, the Path of Arcane Destruction to which it was connected – were ongoing. And finally, Zeke needed to work on his own martial abilities, lest he be found wanting when he came up against an opponent who could match his raw stats and skills.

In short, Zeke had a lot of work to do.

And that wasn’t even considering the war. Adontis had been punched in the mouth, proverbially speaking, but they had not been knocked out. At best, they’d been staggered by the sudden rush from the Zeke’s forces. At worst, they were simply consolidating their power for a more stalwart defense.

“You should also spend some time with your friends and allies,” Eveline said.

“Huh?” he asked as he left the Pillar behind. “That doesn’t sound like something you would normally suggest.”

“I wouldn’t,” she acknowledged. “However, I’ve come to understand you a lot better over the past couple of years, and I know how much you need your friends.”

“You make that sound like a bad thing,” he remarked.

“It is neither good nor bad,” she said. “It just is, Ezekiel. Some people are islands. You are not.”

“I’ve spent long stretches alone before,” he pointed out as he traversed the Residential District.

“And it nearly broke you each time,” Eveline argued. “I can see your memories, remember? I know what state you were in after climbing out of those troll caves. You weren’t thinking straight, and it caused you to make some truly terrible choices. One worked out. Another did not.”

Zeke found himself nodding. Back then, he’d altered his skill in an attempt to save Pudge, and though it had worked out, he’d often chastised himself for taking such a stupid risk. In some ways, he could claim ignorance – he didn’t know how poorly it could have gone – but he knew the real culprit was simple loneliness. Until that moment, he’d not encountered a single creature since being reborn that wasn’t trying to kill him. That he finally had found one had overwhelmed all good sense.

The same psychological issues had led Zeke to befriend Abby, which wasn’t a bad thing in and of itself. Yet, it had caused him to cling so tightly to her that he never even saw the warning signs that would later come back to bite him.

“You were on that same path in Hell when you first met me, too,” Eveline said. “That was one reason I latched onto you in the first place. I thought I could use that to my advantage.”

“You did?”

“Of course. I’m a succubus.”

“And now?”

“We’re stuck together, so I have a much more vested interest in keeping you whole and sane,” Eveline said without a hint of shame. “At the time, I expected to separate from you once I rebuilt my soul. Things didn’t work out that way, though.”

“Do you regret it?” Zeke asked, stepping onto the teleporter. “Attaching yourself to me, I mean?”

“At first I did,” she admitted. “Especially when you built that skill. You have no idea what it’s like being confined like that…”

Zeke felt her give a mental shudder, and he teleported to the Lord’s Manor. Once he reappeared in the grounds outside his home, he said, “I knew it was bad for you, but I didn’t know it was that bad.”

“Whatever you’re imagining, it’s worse,” she said. “And this is coming from someone who spent years being tortured until I became a demon. My tolerance is high, but that…that’s more than I could bear for any significant time. So, thank you for not using it more often.”

“I’ll…uh…I’ll try to keep that in mind,” Zeke said. More than once, he’d used [Bulwark of the Triumvirate] with a flippant disdain for how it affected Eveline. Since she’d revealed that it was painful for her, he’d tried to limit that manner of use, but he’d still slipped up a couple of times. Now, he endeavored to only use it if absolutely necessary.

Of course, it would still remain in place at all times. He had no intention of exposing his mind to outside forces. However, he would not use it to imprison Eveline within – not unless she gave him no other choice, at least.

“Very noble of you,” she said, adopting her typically acerbic mannerisms. “What will you do now?”

Zeke shrugged. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “Tomorrow, we need to move on and continue the campaign against Adontis.”

“But that’s tomorrow,” she said.

“Right,” he responded, glancing back at the teleportation pad. “I suppose I could put in some time in the Hunting Grounds. I’ve been pushed pretty hard by a few of the Knights. I definitely need to work on my technique.”

“Do you want my advice?” Eveline asked.

“Always,” he replied. Indeed, Eveline was often annoying, especially when she was in a teasing mood, but she often gave great advice.

“Rest. Relax. Make a pie. Do something that isn’t about fighting a war or progressing,” she counselled. “If you keep going like you’re going, you’ll burn out. We’ve talked about this before.”

“Yeah.”

“And? Are you going to take my advice?”

Zeke sighed. “I am,” he said after a moment.

“You could go talk to that hulking brute of a girl,” Eveline suggested. “You could compare training regimens.”

“She is not a hulking brute,” Zeke argued. Indeed, Adara was only a little more muscular than an average woman. Certainly, she was smaller than Zeke himself, if only in mass. They were of similar height. “Besides, she’s busy, remember? She’s working with Silik on the academy.” He sighed, running his hand through his hair. “I am going to take your advice, though. I’m just going to rest and relax for today. Tomorrow, we’re back to work.”

“Probably for the best,” Eveline said. “You haven’t smashed anything with your hammer for a while, and I know you get antsy when you go a day without killing something in some horrific manner.”

Zeke ignored her flippant statement, instead heading to the manor where he intended to take a much-needed day off.