The Newt and Demon - Chapter 4.51 - Complications

Fenian had a lot of information about being a champion. But as much knowledge as the elf had, there were holes. Something had changed in the way the system worked regarding champions. They were originally avatars for the gods to inhabit. That changed when Balkor used the feature to bring his heavenly body to the mortal realm. That was viewed as a bad move by all gods, and he was quickly cast down in the Kingdom of Gardreth. Champions now acted as pillars of their respective gods, given innate abilities beyond anything someone with an aligned core could do.

But the plot wasn’t lost on Theo. The more Fenian told him about his condition, the more he came to believe it. He accepted Drogramath as his patron in that moment, realizing all the good that had come of it. In that action, he let the Demonic God into his heart. That innate power bloomed like a Water Lily in the rain, spreading through every part of him in a flash. Then it subsided, battered into submission by Tero’gal.

If Theo had accepted his place as a champion before his realm grew in strength, that power might have burned through him. How much of ‘Theo Spencer’ would have been left after the transformation? Unlike Fenian, he wasn’t that high of a level. With the realm backing him, the invigorating power of Drogramath only nudged him closer to his old self. The entire ordeal was a relief. Someone else had plotted this entire thing out, and it came to a good end.

“Close the book,” Tresk said, miming the action. “And move on with life. This is an absolute win!”

Theo agreed. Alex honked.

“Now that you’ve accepted Drogramath, you can move beyond ‘middling’ for your bond,” Fenian said.

Theo picked Alex up, tucking her under his arm. It was getting more difficult by the day to hold the goose. She’d be the size of a pony before long. He grabbed Tresk’s hand, then nodded to Fenian. “We’ll be back.”

Alex and Tresk tumbled with Theo through the realms. The Marshling yelled something about ‘uninvited interdiction’, but that’s not what he did. He simply forced them to use their [Tero’gal Dreampassage] abilities in tandem with his. They fell through that tunnel until the Bridge of Shadows was in view. For the first time since he gained the ability, the alchemist steered them toward the bridge.

Stepping on the bridge was like landing on semi-realm cloud material. Darkness swirled in every direction. The realm of living shadows spread out in every direction, surrounding the endless bridge. A soft laugh echoed somewhere in the distance.

“Hey Uz,” Theo said, waving at the roiling sea of shadows below the bridge.

“Oh, are we moving on to nicknames?” the Queen of the Bridge of Shadow’s voice came from every direction. “I didn’t know we were so close! Maybe we can have tea, build some shadow-castles! Oh, it’ll be a delightful time.”

“That sounds fun,” Tresk said. She tried and failed to remove her hand from Theo’s grasp. “Hey, I wanna build some castles.”

“I have a question, Uz’xulven.” Theo looked out over the shadows. The goddess must have still felt the sting from the last time he snubbed her. When he was interdicted to the Bridge, he borrowed Tresk’s willpower to escape the place. “A question about… this. Tresk and I.”

“The little mouse wants to know why he’s tip-toeing around dragons. How cute.”

“That’s a good analogy,” Tresk said, nodding with approval.

“My first thought was that Drogramath’s power was protecting me when we traveled through the realms. When Fenian chased the king through the realms, he was pursued by wraiths. Mortals aren’t allowed here, after all. That got me thinking. Systems on top of systems, you know? Why is the system protecting us? Why does it feel like it wants us here?”

Shadows on the bridge gathered together, creating an unimaginable darkness. After a moment it parted, revealing the goddess. Uz’xulven’s shadowy hair floated behind her as though weightless, a stream of constant shadow-miasma trailing with each step. The whites of her eyes stood out in the darkness. Haunting beacons in the gloom.

“For you are the Dreamer,” she said, gesturing to Theo. “And she is the Dreamwalker. Twin roles. A doubled mind to cut through the darkness, maybe. Play your role or fall. Step in line or die. Tick-tock!”

“The Dronon love their poems and riddles, don’t they?” Theo asked, not falling for the queen’s antagonizing tone. “Tell me this ends well. All this conspiracy and subterfuge.”

Uz’xulven approached slowly, each step silent over the bridge. Behind a mask of shadow, Theo could feel her smile. “Trapped in another person’s crusade. Yes. I would say this path provides the best end for everyone.”

“Now you just have to worry if she’s lying to you,” Tresk said with a chuckle. “Spoilers! She is.”

“So much resentment in such a little package.”

“I’m not resentful. I’m vigilant. I’m peerless!” Tresk shouted. “You’re resentful!”

This would have seemed like a strange sight to the uninformed. What were mortals when compared to a god? But it didn’t work like that here. There was an order to the heavens that was set straight by the Arbiter. To exact revenge for such behavior, Uz’xulven would need to enact a grand design on the mortal plane. She’d need to work through her followers, the same way Zagmon did when he tried to assassinate Theo. Meaning it wouldn’t be worth her time to take revenge for such a slight.

Then there was the unorthodox concept of what the Tara’hek bond was. The gods knew more than they were letting on with that whole thing. Where Theo had previously thought to be on the treacherous blade of a knife, he now found himself punching as an equal. Whatever that meant. With a nascent realm, barely able to support itself, he wasn’t drawing many followers. Just the lost souls of Dronon. All these thoughts resolved to the same place at the same time in an instant.

“We’re interested in working with you, Uz’xulven,” Theo said, nodding at the queen. “Since our interests align.”

“And how in the hells do you figure that?” she asked, huffing a breath. “A Brogling does not bargain with a mountain.”

“You’re blind if you can’t see where this goes,” Theo said. It was hard not to look off into the distance. To where the Bridge spanned for eternity. “You shaped your realm for one purpose. So people could travel between the realms. Now you’ve been hamstrung by Khahar. Well, I suppose a demonstration is better than anything else.”

Theo gathered his own willpower, then grasped at Tresk’s. He felt her shrink away from his probing senses at first, only relenting when she felt that it was his searching grasp. Interdiction was an interesting concept, and the idea had changed since Khahar rose to power. The ability of a god to bring someone into their realm relied on a few factors. Between the realms of gods rested vast expanses of nothing. An impenetrable void. He punched a hole through that space, tearing a rift that poured forth frigid air.

“You’re showing your ass again, Theo,” Uz’xulven said, glaring.

“Just a demonstration. I’ll be back to talk to you about this later,” Theo said, pushing through the rip in reality. Tresk and Alex followed with him, forcing their way into the realm of Winter and Death.

An expansive world of constant snow and craggy spires stretched in all directions. Nestled near the foot of a great mountain was a cluster of buildings, all centered around a massive bonfire. The group forded a path through the snow, pushing until their feet met with soft earth. Heat radiated from the fire, washing over them with comforting warmth. Hundreds of confused Toora eyes turned their way, then the booming voice of someone familiar.

“Theo! Tresk!” Benton shouted, trotting over. He left deep tracks in the mixture of mud and snow. “What are you guys doing here?”

“Proving a point,” Theo said, hugging himself for warmth. “And now we’re leaving. I’m going to freeze to death.”

Benton released a bellowing belly-laugh as Theo tore reality open again. Tresk was silent as they crossed the barrier between this realm and theirs, letting out a long sigh of relief when their feet touched warm Tero’gal grass. The Toora god’s icy archway sprung up moments later and he stepped through with a confused look on his face.

The mechanism by which the Tara’hek could pass through the void and into lower realms was clear to Theo now. He had considered how Benton was able to achieve such a thing, then extrapolated based on the [Tero’gal Dreampassage] ability. When he used that skill, he was sent over the Bridge of Shadows and into his realm. When Benton traveled through the void, he used an archway. A miniature version of the Bridge. The Toora god was creating a tiny interdiction event on himself and a few select others.

“We don’t need a bridge,” Theo said, turning to Tresk with a smile. “Not sure why, but we can pass directly through the void.”

“Very academic and all,” Benton said, nodding his head to a crowd of spirits. “But you might have bigger problems to consider.”

At least 50 souls of various colors hovered near the small pond. Belgar was talking to them about something, and they seemed rapt at attention. “What is going on?” Theo asked, breaking out of his thoughts.

“You have some kind of conceptual weight in the void. The souls that are hiding out in the place between places are starting to hear about your refuge.”

“Oooo, more power?” Tresk asked. “Yes please. I don’t understand a damn thing Theo is saying, so this is a nice break.”

Theo didn’t even know if he knew what he was saying. He felt like he was talking out of his ass, trying to connect dots that weren’t there. But he was certain he was on the right track. Uz’xulven was kind enough to drop a hint about that. If he thought of the void as a dream, the titles she gave them made sense. If he considered Fenian’s role, and the throne he was meant to assume, it made even more sense. Once the pieces fell into place, he’d have a better grasp on it. For now, there were spirits to consider.

“They come with some grim tidings, I’m afraid,” Benton said, leading Theo over to the gathered crowd. “Say hello to every survivor from the undead that were unleashed.”`

Belgar finished his speech, then bound over to the group. His form was becoming more solid by the day, although his body was still somewhere between solid and ethereal. The alchemist could see the shape of his horns now, and the texture of his hair. “Pretty interesting spread of souls. Different races, mostly affected by undeath. They’re finding safe havens all within the lower realms.”

Benton cleared his throat. “Theo, I’d like to have a word.”

Tresk and Alex stayed to talk with Belgar while the pair made their way to the spirit fruit farm. Once they were out of earshot, the Toora god sighed. “Something is keeping those souls on the mortal plane. Likely the necromancy, but it has me worried.”

“That sounds bad. We just had a chat with Uz’xulven, but she’s not being talkative.”

“Can’t trust gods in the Demonic Pantheon. Nothing but trouble.”

Theo just nodded, although he didn’t agree. While the spirits could barely talk, he wanted to interview them all before accepting them into the realm. With Belgar as a taskmaster, he was certain they wouldn’t cause problems. In the worst case scenario, he could eject trouble makers into the void. The alchemist clapped his hands before the group, putting on his best smile.

“Hello, and welcome to Tero’gal. I’m sure you’re all eager to hang out by the pond and have some tea. But I have some ground rules, first.”

The spirits’ attention-span was short. They held on for as long as they could while the alchemist went on about their ideals. By the end of it, several had wandered off to check out the spirit fruit garden. Right when they were thinking about jumping into the void, he extended his invitation to the realm to each of them. They all agreed.

The land underneath rumbled. Theo fell on his ass as the realm expanded in every direction. When the earthquake ceased, Tero’gal now expanded far enough for the landscape to disappear over the horizon. A series of notifications popped into his vision. It was hard not to laugh.

“Upgrade options,” Theo said, shaking his head. “It really is seed core buildings all the way down, isn’t it?”

“Yup. Have fun with that,” Benton said, chuckling. “I’ll go explore your realm while you sift through… Wow, two whole upgrades. Have fun.”

“Yeah, have fun nerd,” Tresk said, scampering off to play with the spirits.

Belgar lingered nearby, crossing his mostly solid arms as Theo went through the first round of upgrade options. Just like on the mortal plane, he had three options to pick from. The alchemist read the options aloud.

[Soul Vault]

Creates a vault to store souls in. Souls stored in the vault will not participate in society, but will be held in reserve.

[Harvesting Array]

Harvest the power of the souls within your realm, storing it for future use. The amount of energy siphoned from your souls will not affect their development.

[Bubble]

Creates a bubble around the realm, increasing the skill required to enter without invitation.

“Excuse me? [Soul Vault]? That seems cruel,” Belgar said.

Theo agreed at first, but then got to thinking about it. That would be a good place to put the undesirable souls, if they were to enter his realm. He shook the thought off at once. Eternal imprisonment wasn’t a fair punishment for most crimes. Death was a better punishment for the most severe offenses, so he dismissed that for now. [Harvesting Array] was interesting, but only because of that last sentence in the description. Like the vault, that could have been a nasty little upgrade.

“[Bubble] seems good, though,” Belgar said. “A protective bubble around the realm? Prepare for the future?”

“The inevitable future where someone attacks my realm? Agreed. If the realm is attacked, is a shield more useful? Or power?”

“Depends on what you use the power for.”

“Agreed.”

“Pick [Harvesting Array].”

Theo and Belgar spun around to spot Khahar. Neither of them had felt his entrance into the realm. “Oh. Hey.”

“You can adjust the amount of power you siphon from the souls. Set it to the lowest option,” Khahar said, staring at the space in Theo’s vision where the upgrades were.

“Can you see this screen?” Theo asked, gesturing vaguely at the floating box.

“I can.”

Theo mentally selected the [Harvesting Array], never one to turn away Khahar’s good advice. “Next up we have… huh.”

[Defensive Towers]

Towers will appear throughout the realm. Any interlopers attacking the realm will be targeted by these towers. The power of the towers depends on the amount of souls within the realm, and the amount of stored energy.

“Pick that one,” Khahar said, pointing at the [Defensive Towers] upgrade.

“Well, duh. Synergy, right?” Theo asked, selecting the option. “All done. Two upgrades.”

Khahar smiled, placing a hand on Theo’s shoulder. “When I ascended to Khahak—after I killed Zagmon—I spent several hundred years looking through upgrades. What a pain.”

“Huh, yeah,” Belgar laughed. “God problems. Am I right?”

Theo turned to the dead Dronon. “You seem chipper today.”

Belgar held his hands out, spinning in a circle. “Look at me! I’ve almost got a body back. Not my original body, though. A better one.”

“You’re looking good. Well, uhm… Khahar? You got a minute to hang out? Check out my new realm?”

“Of course. I’ve already sorted the problem you caused with Uz’xulven and Bohor.”

“Bohor? Oh. Benton’s realm?” Theo asked, not knowing how he knew the name. It was just one of those things that itched at the back of his mind.

“Yes. Now, let’s see what Tero’gal holds.”

Theo, Belgar, and Khahar spent hours walking around the new landmass. The realm was now larger than the southern tip of the Southlands Alliance. A new mountain range had formed to the north of the pond and the cottage. Forests to the west, and a miniature sea to the east. The south was just sprawling prairies and sparse clusters of trees. The Arbiter helped the alchemist understand his place in the realm. A few brief instructions, and he revealed that they had some amount of control over the realm. Not like the way they could manipulate the Dreamwalk, but so long as they weren’t under attack they could teleport throughout the realm.

Resting atop the mountain, giving everyone a fantastic view of the sprawling realm below, Theo let out a contented sigh. “What are you setting me up to be, Yuri?”

“You’ve already figured it out,” Khahar said.

“Well, I haven’t,” Belgar put in. “And it’s cold up here.”

“I think you want me to be a different kind of Bridge. Like the Bridge of Shadows.”

“Ah, close. But no,” Khahar said. “You’re getting better at dragging yourself through the lower realms. But what’s the common thread between Uz’Godan Bokrak Tal and Bohor?”

“I’m welcome in both realms.”

“You’ll figure it out. Anyway, why can’t you just be happy?” Khahar asked, clapping a hand on the alchemist’s shoulder. It nearly tipped him over the edge. “You’re managing two towns, now!”

“He’s never happy,” Belgar said.

“I’m happy!” Theo said.

“Even you don’t believe that. You’ve been brooding since you left the mortal plane earlier.”

“I just don’t know where I fit in up here,” Theo said. “The minimum level for godhood is 100, right?”

“It’s not that hard to get to 100.” Khahar laughed, shaking his head. “That’s part of the problem. The progression on the mortal plane is weird. It’s incomplete. Like the Monitor System had an idea for the first 30 levels, then forgot everything else. It made getting to godhood too easy, and rewarded the first string of idiots brutal enough to get there. We’re gonna change that.”

“Uh-oh!” Belgar said, giggling. “Someone’s gonna purge the heavens!”

“Worse,” Theo said. “He’s going to change the way the system works.”

The three men stared off into the realm of Tero’gal. Theo had never been more unsure of anything in his life. But Yuri was acting like himself again. That smarmy little Moscovian. That know-it-all bastard who had an out to every problem. Surely there was someone that would object to his plan. Perhaps the same star-bound, feathered entity that started this whole thing. That was a reality the alchemist didn’t want to see to completion.

“Duty beckons,” Khahar said, his voice sounding distant. A moment later, he vanished.

“I don’t know about you, but I could go for some scones,” Belgar said, kicking his feet over the ledge.

“I think you’re right, Belgar. I’m tired of this malaise. Let’s stuff ourselves until we puke.”

Theo grabbed Belgar’s hand. The scene shifted before them, transporting them instantly to the cottage. Brewing tea and the sharp scent of lemon scones wafted from within the small house.