Tree of Aeons (an Isekai Story)

303

Year 276 (Part II)

“You know, I think our interaction with Osroids is gonna be pretty messed up too.” Edna said as she rested on a corner sofa. She stretched, and felt her muscles turn. They were all very happy to be home, even if there’s a lot more to discuss.

“With creatures of that level of power, I’m not surprised.” Stella sighed. The two female domainholders frequently spent time with each other, somehow, they both saw each other as a bit of a kindred spirit. “Few things grow to that level of power without a little bit of madness. We all are mad in our own way.”

“Hah.” Edna said. “You think that’s the key missing thing to be a domain holder?” 

“I don’t know.” Stella picked up a glass and poured herself some fermented fruit juice. “But at the rate we’re going, every domain holder we meet is going to be unusual in their own way. They don’t become domain holders by being normal.”

“What are the odds there’s someone like you out there?” Edna countered.

“If you mean whether there’s bound to be someone who can travel worlds? I think the chances are very high. But also, if you’re like me and we have the ability to run whenever things get dangerous, all we’ll be doing is to keep running.” 

The knight paused for a long, long time. “You know, that’s a very valid point of view. There really might be a domain holder that’s only running from world to world and hiding constantly. Or a void mage.” 

“Yeah. Why bother staying and fighting when running is so easy?” She drank the fruit juice and barfed. “I’ve no idea why I drink such things.”

“You enjoy a little bit of misery.” Edna chuckled, as she suddenly jumped up. “Did you personally agree with our choices?” 

“Which ones?” Stella said, and somehow, took a second big mouthful of the fermented fruit juice. “The node worlds, or the subdomain?”

“The one about the node worlds?”

“Eh. Could be worse. Nodes are disposable, I think it’s fine to just correct as we go. I’m planning to bug Aeon to continue our tour of the Void Layers.” Stella said, barfing again, and then walked over to one of her bookshelves. It was a magical contraption that unlocked only with her magical signature. “I think we’ll waste a few years, but we can afford that.” 

“We could, eh.” Edna said. “Alka’s waking up next year. I wonder what he’ll think.” 

“I think he’ll think like us.” Stella said matter-of-factly. She chose a book written by one of the  Valthorns on strategic expansions. 

The two women shared a long comfortable silence. Stella sat down and began to read on one of her finely polished wooden tables, and Edna continued to just look out the window. The view of Freshka from Stella’s mansion was quite good. 

“Do you think we all think alike? That we’re having a bit of a groupthink going on?” 

That made Stella pause, and turn to look at the Knight. “Is that something that’s bothering you?”

“A little. I was actually fairly uncomfortable at how the White Statue marked everyone’s soul and injected them with a ‘life mission’. But then, I realized not a single one of their denizens thought that way. To them, having a life goal was good. It gave their life purpose, meaning, and it shaped how they directed their time.”  

Stella wanted to say something, only to stop midway and seemed to think for a long time. Eventually, she continued the conversation. “And I think they have a point. I would’ve loved to know what I was meant to do. Having to figure shit out for ourselves is a pain.”

“Ah.” Edna laughed, at first, and then stopped when she realized Stella was serious. “Come on, it’s not that bad?”

“I mean, in hindsight, sure it seems that way, but back during the early days when I’m still a lost, sad, depressed painter? Not at all. Those rose tinted glasses are hell of a thing.” Stella said. “I would’ve given a lot to have a purpose thrust into my soul, and not just that, it’s something I’d even wholeheartedly believe in.”

“Do you think Aeon should do that?” The knight asked, suddenly. “I mean, hypotheticals, of course. It’s just something I thought about when I saw the fellow people of the White Shore, and I saw purpose.” 

“What? No!” Stella said. “It’s crazy. I know that motivation and morale is a big problem over the longer term, but I still think spiritual tampering is still a step too far.” 

Edna nodded. “I guess so.”

***

Lumoof looked at the city of Claritas, and the beautiful white marbled city. He sighed. “Reminds me a little too much of the Magic City, and the prison of the Crystal King.”

“But a deal is a deal.” I countered, and through Lumoof, I could sense the White Statue’s pulsing presence. He was at the heart of a complex web of spiritual connections that was then linked to almost every single citizen of the White Shore. More than anything, I thought that was a level of control even beyond what I was willing to do. 

It was similar to Bitu, only, more direct. It was impressive. In a way, though the people around us resembled humans in every way, their actions were guided, and so, they were more like autonomous ants than actual independent people. Only the people from the faraway wildlands were spared of the White Statue’s spiritual meddling.

Lumoof was right at the gates when the guards paused. Our presence didn’t need an introduction, the White Statue must have known we were coming, because a full battalion of highly decorated soldiers stood waiting for us, armed with enough weapons to match the angels, and even Hawa’s elite guards. 

The elite White Guards escorted Lumoof through the city. “This way, distinguished guests.” 

The walk was brief, and somehow, the streets were empty. Not a single one of Claritas’s citizens were on the street when we walked.Somehow, they clearly marked this as a sensitive event.

Unlike Edna’s visit, this time, two of the strongest White Guards escorted Lumoof through the door, and the White Statue’s domain pushed against ours. 

“I see where your compatriot’s confidence came from. It is rare to see one that bests me in power.”

Lumoof nodded as it felt as if two winds swirled around us. A hurricane against a tornado. “Level 200 is still a very respectable power, White one.” 

“Let us get to the matter at hand. I agree that we will spare the pagan god’s summons from a quick death, you agree to tell me what your compatriot hinted at. Everything of these administrators, and the gods you have met.” 

My priest reacted quickly, unsurprised by how quickly the White Statue got down to business. “In return, we ask that all of the heroes are kept safely. We will take them away from your world when they arrive. I ask that they are fed, in a physically good state and kept healthy until we can retrieve them.” 

“Agreed. You have my promise as the current master of the White Shore. Now for your end of the bargain. Explain.”

Lumoof took a moment to pause, catch his breath, and then began his explanation. On our end, we saw no risk to the decision. Not an immediate one where we couldn’t correct. So, he spoke about the Level 250 choice, the existence of the World Faith System, gave an overview of the faith system, and why their ‘drift’ meant they were fading from some worlds. It was a fairly peaceful process, where Lumoof explained, and the White Statue answered with a nod. 

“And that is why we are here, and we still want to rescue the heroes.” Lumoof ended.

The White Statue did not respond, but the fluctuation in the spiritual energies around us made it clear that it was deep in thought. The temple only had small windows, but somehow, the winds within were strong.

There was a really long silence, Lumoof was used to it. He was around me so often that he seemed used to the hours I normally took to reply. 

The winds then gradually softened, as the White Statue calmed down.

“If what you say is true, my earlier punishment of the old gods as pagans was misguided. It truly seems that we lacked context.” 

I was a little surprised, but then again, I suppose not all gods and domainholders are hostile.

“It is easy to assume so when the old gods don’t communicate.” Lumoof said with a sigh. “Perhaps it is their arrogance. After all, in their eyes, mere mortals are still way beneath them. Informing us costs faith points, and there’s nothing much that could be done even if we knew.”

The White Statue clearly wanted to correct, because the statue’s hand moved, but then, it stopped. Again, after a few minutes of silence, it continued. “To think that even lesser deities like us remain insignificant.”

Lesser deities. 

“Less so. Less so.” Lumoof said, and he decided to go on the charm offensive. The rare moment of vulnerability suggested the White Statue was open to negotiations. “But I see you have built a great world here, and you have a way of defeating the demon king.” 

“We do. More specifically, I do.” The White Statue answered. “As a statue, I can shift my being and presence to any of my other statues, and with that statue, I fight the demon king. I leave a little fragment of me behind, hidden amongst my other statues, so that I can regenerate if defeated. But we’ve gotten better at fighting the demon kings, though in my earlier centuries I still had to borrow the powers of the pagan summons. This was long before this drift, and back when my world resembled yours very much.” 

“It is an impressive thing to do. It’s a feat few worlds can claim to have achieved.” Lumoof answered. For a Level 200 plus to defeat a demon king isn’t thoroughly impossible. Maybe it’s power set was better suited to combat than mine.

“It is so. But we must look forward. If there is this option at Level 250, then I must now prepare for it.” The White Statue answered. “It will take a few centuries to get the levels needed, since the demon kings only arrive once every 20 to 25 years. Unfortunately, nothing else provides experience like them.” 

Lumoof didn’t want to suggest the obvious. He could also defeat the demon kings on other worlds. The White Statue was likely smart enough to know that was an option, but unless he mentioned it, he wasn’t going to suggest it.

There was no track record to justify continued trust, but its explanation of how the White Statue’s soul was spread across all the statues revealed a key point if one day we were enemies. It was able to separate its spirit and spread it to all of its statues. It wasn’t a full clone like mine, but still, a decent failsafe. 

Once again, the two stood as the White Statue continued to be in thought. 

After a while, it asked. “Long ago, this world had two of the old gods. Hawa, and Neira. Have you encountered them?”

“Only Hawa.” 

“I see. If you meet Neira, I ask that I be informed. I have some ancient grudges to settle. My existence today can be traced to a Neiran blood ceremony. A ceremony to bless a statue to serve as a guardian for this city, and our old pagan ways involved blood sacrifices. I was once a doctor, I forgot how many thousand years ago, and I was sacrificed against my will and my spirit was thrust into the Statue.”

Lumoof looked, but off my head, without any special intervention, moving a soul from one body to another was such a traumatic process that only hero-souls survived. Our own experiences on our death row prisoners informed us that it is fairly difficult to encase a person’s soul in a new host, unless special powers like mine were involved. Blood magic and sacrifices rarely met the conditions needed for it to happen successfully. “That shouldn’t work. The soul usually doesn’t survive such traumatic damage.”

“Yes. But I was no ordinary mortal. My soul was stronger. Much stronger, and so my spirit lived when thousands of sacrifices before me failed. It is a cruel irony that they were right to do so. I did protect my world from the demons for tens of thousands of years.” 

“You purged all belief in the old gods?”

“Almost. I cursed them for creating me, but in time, I’ve come to a state of peace. Now, the wildfolks still carry on their weird beliefs, but there must be some chaos to give my men a concept of order and purpose, so I tolerate their existence.” At that moment, I thought that we were quite similar. The system encouraged conflict. Rewarded struggles, challenges. So, for Order to be, there must be a state of Disorder. “The old dungeons too. We needed their special resources and the monsters, so I left them as they are. As controlled opponents.” 

In the end, the two domain holders looked at each other once more. Lumoof thought it was mostly over, and so. “I believe that is all. If there is nothing else, we will return.”

Again, another wait. It was not too long.

“It is most unusual to meet someone that I could finally claim to be an equal. We will honor the agreement, I will spare those summoned by the drifting gods. And there is one more thing.”

My avatar stopped, turned and looked at the statue once more.

“I wish to join your pantheon and this fight against the demons.”  

I was stunned, and Lumoof was too. We couldn’t answer immediately.

***

Treehome

There was a quietness on Treehome. With so many of my level 100s deployed on the other worlds, the city’s ultra high end market was significantly quieter. The merchants especially felt it, because many of their regular customers, those who belonged to my elites, were all away for long stretches, and that had a knock on impact. 

They still worked with my mid-tier Valthorns, many of them were busy preparing for their own trips to the other worlds. We didn’t have much of a choice. The order may be a massive, and very powerful institution, but the very nature of how levels are gained and the exponential nature of the experience requirement meant it was a lot slimmer at the top. 

Those that provided ‘lifestyle goods’ to the elites instead have to redirect their production to provide portable goods. Goods that my elites could take to their faraway deployment. Even though a few years honestly just felt like a few weeks to me, for my elites and for the businesses, they still had to make adjustments. 

The crafters, those directly under our employ, and indirectly as subcontractors or outsourced manufacturers, continued to experience huge quantities of orders, though the nature of production now shifted towards infrastructure goods. 

Now that Lumoof, Edna and myself could handle demon kings, my central planners anticipated a slowdown in crystal bomb production requirements. This was a resource requirement that choked the world’s economies, such that the past ten to twenty years were periods of ultra high crystal prices. 

Strategically, we would continue to rebuild our crystal weapons stockpile consumed during the Demon’s Comet incident, but as a whole, the pace of this replenishment could be reduced. This would have a knock on effect on the prices and profitability of crystal mines everywhere if we suddenly reduced our purchases, so the Order as a whole continued to buy, though at a reducing trend. 

Instead, I’d like to figure out a better use of the magical storage properties of crystals for the war effort, not as weapons, but as some form of utility tool. We already have crystals capable of doing computations, recording images, storing bits of memory, and we have also used crystals as temporary spell cores, where they created an area of effect that enhanced or weakened things and people in their immediate vicinity. 

I didn’t have many ideas of my own, so I put it to the Valthorns for ideas.

There was feedback on the ground for some kind of deployable protective spheres, so that the Valthorns could quickly protect injured non-combatants from attacks, from our experience with the natives. Alternatively, a mobile food and healing kit, stored as spells within a set of crystals. 

Maybe Alka would have some ideas when he finally reawakened. 

Deep within my main tree, Alka floated in a pod that dabbled with powers that made no sense to me. His body was reconstructed by an automated will that could only be the system, his flesh reconstructed in bits and pieces in a way that is more as if a perfect replica was being built. 

I tried my best to understand it, but truly the system understood Alka’s existence at a level of depth that I couldn’t capture. 

When I looked at Alka’s reconstruction, I saw parallels with the void layers and Shrubhome. Maybe the system had a mirrorworld where Alka still lived, and what happened was a perfect copy. 

It is times like this where I question the fundamental nature of the system, because when a world popped out of nowhere is hard to grasp for those without the mental flexibility to contemplate how the state of existence could just flip from nothing into something. 

“Don’t think too much about it. Just accept it.” Stella once said. “The void sea is many things, and it’s quite hard to pin down what it is. The Zaratan I met once said it is a state of all that is not existence, and more. It is a state of possibility. When we carve a path through the void sea, the Zaratans once described it as walking in a type of dream-like space, where things exist if you imagine it to exist, and could supply the void energy to motivate the void sea to respond to your imagination.” 

Even that didn’t grasp the full scale of the void. 

Increasingly, I felt that staring into the void was like going into the inner workings of this world. 

I wondered if we ventured deep enough, did the void layers lead to Earth?

Or perhaps, an Earth-like world?

***