by Aaron Crash
“You have a little white worm, Buck!” Gluck shouted brazenly.
“Little but as thick as my wrist!” the dwarf barked back with a laugh.
“Please!” Professor Albatross called from the front of the room. “I find the discussion very interesting, and it’s a good review for your Second Exam tomorrow, but we cannot get off track.”
Darisbeau showed his disgust. “But you didn’t answer the original question, Ymir. Is there the idea of a Seedmaster among you barbarians? And I don’t mean the seed in your sack.”
Ymir grinned. “Might as well be talking about the seed in my sack. I plan on populating another continent, and damn the Age of Withering.”
Professor Albatross cleared her throat. “Please. I’m assuming that the answer is no. So how did the world start if the Seedmaster didn’t seed it?”
Ymir turned to face the professor. “Some say the Wolf, running through an endless night, got randy and fucked the night. That brought forth the Shieldmaiden, who created day. Then the Wolf fucked the day, and the Axman was born. And then the Wolf ran through the night and the day, until he had to take a piss. He lifted his leg and took a big, long piss where the day met the night. And that piss gave birth to the Tree of Life.”
Darisbeau’s laughter was full derision. “And so all of creation comes from wolf piss?”
Ymir laughed along with him. “Then perhaps we shouldn’t take ourselves so fucking seriously then. Am I wrong?”
Darisbeau laughed again, merrily, in spite of himself.
Professor Albatross chuckled as well. “And so the stars are puddles of wolf pee, reflecting the light of the sun and the moons.”
“And if the Wolf could pee on one world, he could pee on all the worlds, connected by this mysterious Stair.” Ymir thought for a moment. “The Seedmaster spread the seeds. Perhaps some of those seeds are still around. Perhaps they just need the right soil to grow in.”
Linny Albatross caught his eyes. “The right soil would help. It’s been said that the Seedmaster grew the worlds not so that he could bring forth life, but so he could play a game, a game we couldn’t possibly even begin to understand. The Gamemaster theory is interesting, though I’m not sure I like what it symbolizes. Some believe all the wars that have ever been fought have been a part of the game. Some believe our sexuality is a game, while others think that the dark forces in the world are actually players in the game. And the final prize? The entire world. All of the people. Every one of us.”
From how she talked, it was clear that Professor Albatross believed in the Gamemaster theory far more than she did the Seedmaster, even though she tried to hide her admiration. So Raxid was started as a game. The idea amused Ymir. He didn’t believe a word of it. A game had rules. There were no real rules to the world. There were guidelines, however, and the Sacred Mysteries of the Ax did a fine job in making suggestions on how to live well. Those weren’t rules. If you broke them, you weren’t punished. You simply suffered the consequences of your actions.
There was a moment of quiet before Darisbeau spoke. “Or maybe the Gamemaster created the world for his own amusement. There is no prize. There is only him watching us all running around, thinking so many things are important when they’re not.”
“Then this Gamemaster needs to die,” Ymir said quietly. A thought struck him. “We’ve talked of what the different races on Thera believe. What of the Wingkin? What of dragons? What of the strange people to the west, on Ethra? I’ve heard stories of dwarves living in trees, giant horse women, and demon women with four arms. What of them?”
“All uncanny fruit from the tree,” Professor Albatross said. “Or if there is no Seedmaster, then all people everywhere are pieces in the Gamemaster’s game. And wouldn’t a dragon be a most powerful piece?”
A dragon, yes, who had claimed it started the Midnight Guild, who spoke of games and such things. Once more, Ymir found himself embroiled in a mystery.
Ymir noticed the clock on the professor’s desk. “This has been interesting, but I have studying to do. In the end, we’ll never know how the world began. We have this day, and the small hours of our life. I will live that and leave others to make up stories.”
The corners of Linny Albatross’s lips curved upward. “We create the stories of history with our lives, Ymir. ‘To forge tomorrow in the hours of this day is to become the master of life.’ You of all men know that.”
Ymir thought it was a good place to end, though it was strange that Professor Albatross was quoting that particular line from Amleth to him.
The rest of the class got to their feet, with Kacky and Gluck telling Buck Minefinder dirty jokes.
Darisbeau, though, stayed seated, thinking.
That swamp boy better get good at games. He was marrying Arribelle Josen, and from all accounts, Arri would be there at Old Ironbound after the Winter Solstice Holiday ended.
And not just the queen of Josentown, but rulers from all over Thera. They were coming to talk about the demon conqueror, to discuss the various issues affecting the continent, and to suggest who the next grand vempor of the Holy Theranus Empire should be.
There was much to discuss.
Too bad there might be a dragon around to hear every word, hidden in the shadows, untraceable by mermaid divination, Flow magic, or even the Veil Tear Ring.
Chapter Thirty-One
YMIR HANDLED HIS SECOND Exam without incident. As always, he enjoyed the exercise.
As per an agreement with Della, he didn’t take the Akkiric Rings with him when the Examiner led him down the circular stone steps. He did have the Black Ice Ring, but that was only to be used as his Focus Ring. Stopping time wouldn’t exactly be fair, and besides, he didn’t have the Gather Breath Ring to power it.
The Examiner was a professor from another university, brought in to give the Old Ironbound scholars their test. It was completely anonymous—the Examiner wore thick gray and black robes. A mask, shaped like an open palm, covered her face. And this Examiner was a woman, based on her curves.
That meant it wasn’t Unger leading him down into the depths of the tower to murder him, unless Unger could turn into a woman, which probably wasn’t difficult.
The maddening thing was, they didn’t know if the dragon was Unger or not. And they didn’t know if the master assassin was even at the college. Most likely, they were all just jittery. Ymir was dealing with women, and for them, it was always about to rain. Even Della was on pins and needles about the school’s upcoming assemblage of esteemed dignitaries.
As for the exam itself, Ymir spent most of the time talking to Aegel Akkridor, or a simulacrum of him. Form magic created the famous vempor as a man in black armor, with a black helmet. The recreation had eight rings across his fingers. They were simple jeweled things, not magic, but it was an interesting touch.
Not all paintings of the vempor showed him with so much jewelry, but there was a fair amount that did. And in Tori’s vision, when she’d seen the vempor, he’d been wearing the eight Akkiric Rings and the same red cloak that hung from the simulacrum’s shoulders.
The vempor asked Ymir a series of questions, about Aegel’s father, about his sister, and about his childhood growing up in the palace at Four Roads. But Aegel’s real education was on the campaigns, and Ymir listed them, the Red Road to Ssunash, the Fool’s Path to the Judgement Peaks, the Sorrow Coast Trail.
They were in a room, with snow on the ground and icicles hanging from the corners. Something about the ground looked strange. It took a moment for Ymir to realize it was a map of ancient Four Roads, covered in frost, with Long River cutting through the middle of the city.
The vempor simulacrum stood right where Castle SkyReach was.
The Examiner stood in the corner, watching.
Then the vempor pulled his long sword, a straight blade with a sharp tip. It burst into black flames. “You know about my sister, Ymir, but what of my brothers? Can you name my brothers?”
“Honoria was your everything,” Ymir
answered. “Aegustus and his wife Yulia had sons, yes, and some daughters because that was before the Age of Withering. To name them is easy. Adaam, Benjaai, Caalleb, Danlik, Efraam, Fraannek, and Gideoff. But they had a way of dying, mysteriously, but not by your hand. Perhaps by Honoria. Was she a sister or a lover to you?”
The simulacrum didn’t respond to Ymir’s jabs, which was a pity.
The fake Form vempor did stride forward and hack at Ymir with his long sword, and Ymir pulled a curved ice blade from thin air to parry the blows.
“And the old gods?” the vempor asked.
“Seven of the old gods, mostly forgotten, but still beloved by the Gruul and Morbuskor, and some thought that you worshipped them, but you didn’t. You only ever loved yourself, your power, and your wives. Let’s make this interesting. Caelum caelarum!” Ymir used Moons to float over the vempor. The clansman cracked his sword against the helm.
The vempor whirled and struck, and Ymir parried every blow. “Some say you saw your wives as the old gods. So I will list the names of both the god and the corresponding wife. Horrensia the Raven as the Forger. Brave Kurla as the Warrior. Shy Emalia as the Artist. Hailey Gold as the Merchant. Bly as the Mother Sea. Kyla as the Father Sky, or at least she’d be special to him, since I doubt Kyla had a cock. Lucee the Last as the trickster Reveler.”
The vempor swayed, and Ymir smashed off the helmet with his blade. A whirlwind came spilling out of the headless suit of armor, and Ymir easily extinguished a blizzard that might have frozen him to the ground. It was a bit beyond him, jelu fascinara magic, but Ymir found the cold enchantments manageable. He froze the vempor’s armor to the ground.
The Long River became a crack, and half the room fell away, but Ymir cast another Moons spell. “Caelum caelarum!” He floated from the pit to the ground in front of the Examiner.
Ymir addressed her directly. “I think Aegel thought he and his sister would rise to power together, and she murdered their brothers, and even some of their sisters. Then she fell ill and died, because the Wolf pisses on the healthy and the sick. That old dog is as much a trickster as the Reveler ever was.”
“You slayed the vempor before he could ask the final questions.” The Examiner spoke in a bored, monotone voice. “Who is the new god and what are the new beliefs?”
“The new god is the Tree of Life, and those who are religious believe that the Tree is inside them, guiding them down certain branches. All who live will know a spring, when the buds open, and a summer, when green leaves catch afternoon storms, and an autumn, when the leaves die, and there is the winter of death, when our bodies fail, and we die. In our funeral pyres, we are burned to ash. But even that ash returns to the Tree, as does the believer’s soul, to know the unity of all thought and creation.” Ymir smiled at all that poetic claptrap. The Examiner might like it, though, and he was there to pass the exam. “It’s why Aegel Akkridor never wanted to die. He wanted to live forever, because he smelled the funeral pyre of his sister, and he swore he would not die, ever, nor would his wives, who some worshipped as the gods I named. However, he could only see them as pale ghosts of his beloved lover-sister.”
Ymir tossed his sword to the Examiner, and he created another one. “Let’s fight while we talk. I like that part.”
The Examiner sputtered, “This is highly irregular!”
Ymir struck at her, and she parried the blow with some skill. Her feet shifted in the snow so she was balanced. Again, he was impressed. And he recognized those eyes behind the Flow mask. It was Yannc Winslo, not a professor, but someone who served the Alumni Consortium. She’d come to investigate Della on many occasions for various murders and impropriety and whatnot.
Ymir couldn’t name her, no, because that might spoil his exam, and he’d already passed it handily. As the pair dueled, Ymir chatted. “Aegel conquered all of Thera, but he couldn’t conquer his own fear of death. But he didn’t just win himself a thousand years, he had his wives live that long as well. As for his governors, he would fake their deaths, and then add a number after their name. Hensorror II, Kullis IX, Elim V, Boyle III, Laykis III, Cullen III. Those governors never died, nor did the seven Corvidae, his person guards. Seven wives, seven governors, or seven protectors. Or all just his wives? That’s what Zinn thinks, and I would agree. Aegel won immortality for all eight of them.”
Winslo leapt from the cliff and floated there on Moons magic. She arced electricity at him, but Ymir had learned to undo the lightning. “Caelum fascinara.” His Moons & Flow teacher might be a silly fairy, but Lolazny Lyla was an adequate teacher. And to think, she was also the magistrate of the Sorrow Coast District.
“You believe that he’d found the Helm of Immortality?” the Examiner asked. “Or was it the Elixir of Life, brewed from the first fruits that fell from the tree?”
“The Eternity Apples.” Ymir ran and leapt into the air above the abyss. “I’ve been obsessed with seeds lately.”
He didn’t mention the Akkiric Rings, but he was fairly certain that was what had given Aegel Akkridor and his harem eternal life.
He and the Examiner fought while they flew about the room. Winslo hurled snow at him, and Ymir showed off by creating a Sunfire shield. It wouldn’t count against him, but he didn’t think he’d get any extra points for using Studiae Magica so far outside his specialty.
Finally, the Examiner dropped the sword and melted away the snow with powerful Flow magic. The exam room turned back into a simple stone space, with torches burning in three of the walls and a door on the fourth wall. “Enough, Ymir. You have passed. You have passed.” The Examiner actually laughed. “You love the learning, barbarian. I heard tell you did. You study up in the Librarium Citadel until all hours of the night, and there you are, in the morning, with kaif and a book. We hope you will stay on to teach at the Majestrial. You are savage, but you are powerful. And young. Perhaps a few years will polish that savagery out of you.”
Ymir still had his sword. And he flung it as hard as he could at the Examiner. At the last second, he called out, “Jelu jelarum!” With a simple cantrip, he melted the blade, and water hit Yannc Winslo. “I would not count on time polishing me. I will cling to my savagery, my passion, my life, until I too am dust.”
The Examiner gasped. “I stopped the exam! You flung your blade at me! You wet my robes!”
“All of that is true,” Ymir agreed. “You also said I passed. Let’s not forget that. These first months of my judician year have been tedious, at least the schoolwork has been. I don’t care about your Theran religion, and I am tired of studying the same parts of Aegel Akkridor’s life over and over. I want to know the end. Who killed the vempor? Why was Castle SkyReach burned with a fire that could melt stone? Was it the so-called ShadowFlame? Perhaps spouted from a dragon’s maw? And what happened to his artifacts? Burned as well? Or secreted in the Illuminates Spire? Lastly, Examiner, I am curious about what happened to his wives. Their bodies were not found. Many think they were taken away and they died in anonymity. I doubt that. I doubt that very much. I also doubt that they were all human, though that is the story. Would you care to comment?”
The Examiner didn’t say another word. Winslo stormed past him and pushed her way through the door. her footsteps echoing as she clattered up the spiral staircase.
Ymir grinned. He wondered what Della would think about his Second Exam of his judician year. He could see her being very upset. Or he could see her laughing.
No, she would laugh. There was no love lost between Della Pennez and Yannc Winslo.
Ymir simply had to hope his Third Exam and Fourth Exam would be more of a challenge. And that he would finally get some answers.
He had said something during the exam that he had almost forgot. The Eternity Apples were grown from magic seeds, and supposedly they could give whoever ate them a long life.
It was some more uncanny fruit he’d have to research.
Winslo was right about one thing—he was doomed to spend a lot more time in the Librarium Citad
el. At least he could glance down at Della in her mezzanine office. He liked working so close to her.
The Honored Princept was special, and Ymir was grateful to know her.
For a moment, he could picture her in his ptoor, in some far-off land, in a palace, where they could fuck and fight and read the forbidden literature of other realms.
For Ymir was learning that the universe was big, and there were many, many worlds. Maybe he would find this Stair when he was done with Old Ironbound. Maybe he would visit all of the worlds and seek out battles only he and his harem could fight.
It was a nice idea, but he had to chide himself. He wasn’t going to walk a path that wasn’t ready for him. He’d stay in the day.
“Me a teacher here?” Ymir guffawed loudly and hoped the Examiner—and whoever else who might be listening—heard him. “I’d rather remain a savage!”
He left the exam room and hurried back to the Zoo. He wanted to bathe, put on his best clothes, and escort his wives to the feasting.
The Winter Solstice Festival had such good beer.
Chapter Thirty-Two
THE HONORED PRINCEPT Della Pennez sat at her desk on the mezzanine and watched a very perplexed Yannc Winslo make her way down the steps to the Librarium floor.
Winslo’s presence on the campus hadn’t been pleasant—she’d come to help with the imperial royal family and stayed on to help Della with the assemblage, which would take place after the Winter Solstice break.