Touch of Fate

Mike absentmindedly used a bit of air magic to redirect the rubble in a safer direction, making sure to shield the two behind him, all the while focusing his attention on the being emerging from the hole in the floo. He concentrated as much mana as he could hold in one hand, preparing to unleash a storm of magic at the first sign of hostility. He wasn't sure if he could actually take on a god, weakened or not, but he figured a strong first strike would help even the odds.

Initially, all he could see was a pale white hand with long, delicate fingers ending in nails that had been sharpened into points. Then the being rose, seemingly levitating into a standing position like in the old vampire movies Mike had seen in his previous life, until he was upright on the lip of the tomb-like hole.

The god, if that was what he really was, had skin so pale that it was practically translucent, shoulder length, wavy hair the color of freshly fallen snow, and eyes that seemingly held no pigmentation at all. The only blemish on his appearance being two small pinpricks of darkness that must be the god's pupils.

However, to reduce this being's appearance to a mere color would be to ignore the unearthly beauty and charm that radiated from his countenance. His face resembled chiseled marble, carved with high cheekbones, a narrow jaw, and a patrician nose as if he was the product of a master Renaissance sculptor looking to immortalize the classical interpretation of male beauty. His body, which was on full display at this point, was slender and lithe, but evoked a sense of power and presence.

The pinprick eyes focused on Mike and a rich, velvety voice emerged from the god's mouth. "Are you the one that awoke me?"

The words were slightly distorted at first, in a manner that Mike had come to recognize as a sign that the other party was using a language he'd not been exposed to before. After a few seconds, the distortion passed as his Communication Magic came into play.

Feeling a bit surprised that the other party wanted to talk, Mike answered. "Uh, yes. I suppose you can say that"

He tried to use Appraise, just on the off chance it had an effect, but he only got static in response.

The god lifted and examined his hands with an expressionless gaze. "Much of me has been lost. The emancipation ritual must have been flawed. Still, I offer my thanks, mortal. You have aided me when few others would."

[This is the bloodthirsty monster my inner demon wanted to make use of?]

"It is unfortunate you are not one of my kin, or I would grant you my blessing…" He paused, staring at Mike a bit harder. "...Although it appears that you bear a small vestige of my bloodline despite being a human. Strange…"

Mike thought back to how he acquired his Vampiric Regeneration, Lesser skill and decided to keep quiet about its origin. He was fairly certain that the last thing he wanted to do in front of the god of vampire and ghouls was talk about how he'd killed one of its descendants and stole one of its racial skills.

"Ah yes, that. It's something of a long story, and one I won't bore you with now. Just let me assure you that I am human, plain and simple."

"As you wish. Tell me, how long have I been imprisoned? I sense that the High Elven magics that once bound me to this place have weakened significantly. Has the citadel of Tarosh Inshana been laid low? Did my kinsman finally topple the tyrant Meltorni?"

"...Well, you were supposed to have been sealed during the height of the Second Age, which came to an end thousands of years ago. As to your other questions, I honestly have no idea, since I've never heard either of the names."

The god stared at him blankly for a few seconds and then turned his gaze to the ceiling. As he did so, Mike saw a flash of intense grief that vanished so quickly he almost thought he imagined it.

There were a few seconds of silence as he waited for the newly risen god to speak when a feeble cough caused the attention of everyone in the room to shift to Dorn who was on his hands and knees, trembling fiercely.

"...If I may...uh...humbly...uh, contribute? Divine one...I don't know what you are saying, but I heard the words Tarosh Inshana. Could it be that you were inquiring about the ancient capital of the High Elves that vanished beneath the sea during the fall of the Second Age?"

The god looked at Mike again. "With a few exceptions, I do not understand this man's words. It seems he speaks a dialect that I am unfamiliar with."

"He says that the Tarosh place you were asking about was swallowed by the ocean thousands of years ago. I feel that I should also mention that the High Elves have basically gone extinct by this point, although there are a few descendant races that still live in this region."

"Truly? Then, pray tell, who rules this world? Have humans become the dominant lifeform?"

"...Well, humans do control a fair amount of the region we are currently in, but I would hardly call them the dominant life forms. I mean, there are a bunch of other races which are basically stronger. Just look at dragons...oh my god, I forgot about Audra!"

"Audra?" The god asked, sounding slightly confused, although Mike was not really paying any attention.

Opening his inventory, he quickly withdrew the sphere of hardened air that he'd sealed the little dragon inside of, dispelling it and spilling her out onto his hands.

At first, Audra was quiet and unmoving, and he feared the worst, but after a few moments she opened an eye and gave him a baleful glare before collapsing back into unconsciousness. Apologizing in his heart, Mike channeled enough Life Magic in her to make sure she was alright before finally returning her to her usual pocket. It seemed like she had suffered any long term effects from her time trapped in an airless void, but he would keep an eye on her going forward to make sure that was the case.

[I'll have to get her something good to apologize…]

As the familiar weight settled into his clothes, he found himself feeling a bit more stable and reassured. Somehow, Audra's mere presence seemed to drive back the dark whispers trying to infiltrate the corners of his mind.

"Ahem." He feigned a cough once he remembered that he was still standing in front of an ancient god-like being, "Sorry about that. It's been a rough day. Now what were we talking about...actually, I don't think I caught your name."

A faint smile formed on the entity's lips. "Like the rest of the gods, I have been called many things by many different peoples. For someone like yourself, an Ascendant Aspirant who has not only freed me from my prison, but has proved themself worthy of the favor of a Wyrm, you can use my mortal name. Call me Aberth."

[Yeah, I'm really not seeing what the big deal is. This guy seems pretty cool.]

Further conversation was interrupted by another distant explosion far above them. This time it was significant enough that streams of dust began falling from the ceiling.

"Shit. I forgot about that part too." Mike muttered under his breath.

"The feedback loop is starting!" Dorn exclaimed breathlessly while trying to struggle to his feet. "This is what the Shadow Council was hoping for when they tricked the ghouls into starting the ritual. I suspect this means that your efforts to prematurely destroy the barrier have proven unsuccessful in-"

Another explosion rocked the ruins, this time shaking hard enough that cracks began to form in the walls. Fearing an imminent collapse, Mike sent a wave of Earth Magic through the chamber, reinforcing the compromised stonework. He could tell that the patch would hold for a while, but several of the more load bearing portions of the ruins were in the process of disintegrating under the force of the chain explosions.

"I'm containing it for the moment, but we'll need to move quickly to avoid being trapped under tons of rock. You two, start running." He stated while motioning the two humans to the exit before glancing back at the god.

Aberth was standing idly glancing up at the ceiling, arms hanging slack at his sides.

"Are you coming?" Mike asked.

The god turned his white-rimmed gaze at him. "I am not sure if I should."

"What do you mean?"

Another faint smile formed on his pale lips. "Do you know why I was sealed in this chamber?"

"No, but is this really the time to be talking about it?"

"I bear the Aspect of Hunger and my kinsmen, the beings you know of as vampires and ghouls, have acquired a sort of resonance with it as a result. I fear that my return to the world will exacerbate their existing instinctual urges."

Mike frowned in thought, barely even paying attention to the next wave of vibrations that shook the ruins from another explosion. "And you are sure that will happen? Could it be happening already?"

Aberth blinked, something that Mike hadn't seen him do yet, and replied. "I am uncertain. The effect may only be minimal. Even at the height of my power, the Aspect's influence was fairly subtle. Since my divinity has been greatly diminished by my imprisonment and the method you used to free me, it is very well possible that there is no danger."

"Ah...sorry about that."

"Pay it no mind. Not many among the gods could have correctly disabled that trap, let alone a mortal. Nonetheless, without verifying what effect I might have on my descendants, I fear it might be unwise for me to be free in this world."

"Just to clarify, is this something that will happen just because you are awake now, or is it more of a proximity thing?"

Aberth paused to consider his answer, once again emphasizing how little he seemed to care about being potentially trapped in a collapsing mountain. Finally, he replied. "In the past it was something that affected all of my kin, but those nearest to me were more deeply influenced by their hunger. I suspect, weak as I am, if I avoid getting close to them, my kinsmen will retain their sentience. Perhaps remaining buried here is the best solution."

Another explosion rocked the ruins, this time creating a series of cracks in the ceiling. Mike realized he would need to move soon or risk having to dig himself out of the resulting rubble. Not to mention the devastation the collapse would visit on the city itself. He needed to figure out a solution to this problem sooner rather than later.

His instincts told him that leaving Aberth alone would be a mistake, but he couldn't really force him to come along either, especially since the god had a very good reason for wanting to isolate himself. Taking a more violent approach was also off the table. Even if Mike got the jump on him, there was no telling what abilities he had or how long it would take to bring him down.

Besides, he had only spoken to Aberth for a few minutes, but he found himself sympathizing with the quiet god. If he had the option, he would prefer to solve this peacefully.

[If only I could just store him somewhere safe until the current crisis is over…wait...]

"Hey, Aberth, do you have to breathe?"

---------------------------------------------

A hooded figure stalked through the streets of Gildusi, ignoring the panicked populace who were beset with the twin disasters of a ghoul thrall uprising and the precursor tremors of some cataclysmic event.

His work here was done. Now all that remained was to make his escape.

He clutched the satchel containing the ancient stone sphere he'd received from the ghoul court as payment for his services, scarcely believing that the deluded simpletons had simply given him the relic, even if they thought it was worthless. It appeared to be made of dull, grey granite and, with the exception of its shape and surprising durability, was unremarkable. As such, it had long been treated as some kind of toy or decorative item, it's owners never knowing the powerful secret it held.

The ghouls were so ecstatic to finally have a means of returning to their prophesied golden age, which likely never existed, they'd never thought to ask themselves why he was interested in the old, but apparently useless artifact. Or why he was even aware of it in the first place.

[Fools. They deserve their destruction.] The man thought, dryly running his tongue the exposed teeth of his perpetual grin as he slipped into an alleyway to avoid a battered group of White Lions who were frantically making for the stairs to the next level.

Another earthquake, causing a few buildings to collapse on a street nearby, rippled through the city. It seems the ritual had failed faster than he'd anticipated, or perhaps an outsider had interfered and triggered the built-in trap. Either way, it was time to leave.

He was soon slipping aboard one of the many ships that were trying to escape. A few members of his cult had secured him passage, but that had largely been forgotten in the night full of tragedies. Nevertheless, a few threats was all it took to secure him a cabin and ensure that he would not be disturbed during the course of the trip.

It would take a few weeks to reach Dovistan, and he needed to focus on implementing the next phase of the plan. He couldn't afford any interruptions when preparing for the end of the world.