The Fall Of The Tribes

by Philip Read

  At the age of 21 with three children to my name I was to choose a third man or avail myself to the communal men that any woman can chose to take pleasure from at our leisure.

  I grew to the ripe old age of 260 and had 63 children in all. 43 of whom were girls and I was honoured for my fertility and spiritual powers by all the other tribes amongst my people. My children became known as the Africans for their dark and beautiful skin.

  I lived again as a man who became a magician in a kingdom where magicians are honoured, pursuing my craft with passion and diligence and became a Master Magician, then a Grandmaster Magician eventually a Archmage.

  At the cusp of Ascension I was challenged and killed by a fae Archmage looking to Ascend herself. And she did, trampling over my corpse on her way to the top. I lived, I lived I lived. And by the time my allocated mortal lives where spent and I returned to the spiritual realms with all the memories of my many lives there was war within the realm and factions were forming.

  I chose a neutral faction and spent a thousand years enjoying the peace, power, enlightenment, joy, wonder, contentment, mystery and mastery that is the spiritual realm which can only be experienced through spiritual bodies. Bodies the mortal realms can’t even fathom in their splendor. But neutrality was not to be and we were pursuit and forced to defend ourselves becoming less and less neutral as we did.

  But even spirits aren’t equal and I am the product of the Union between the Progenitors Xάος and Αἰθήρ. Two of the seven children of the Trinity known to the mortals as Chaos and Aether. A rare union that has only produced a few thousand of us over the eons.

  Several hundred of us older spirit beings in the faction and a few hundred thousand of our children, some spirits that are the direct unions of the other children of the Progenitors. For though the Progenitors have a few thousand spawn with each other, we have hundreds of thousands amongst ourselves, and our children have millions amongst each other.

  Some of the lesser spirits even making the occasional Union with one or more of the Progenitors. So though we were few in our faction we didn’t lack power from our diverse parentage and personally amassed power.

  And with the aid of the Universe we found a way to enter the mortal realm but at a great cost. An unfathomable cost even for we had to lose our spiritual bodies, our power, and our Greater Understanding in order to even have a chance of cramming ourselves in the constricting confines of the physical realm.

  For as we currently were, we were too much for the mortal realm. Too substantial in our spirituality and Greater Understanding. So we would have to take on mortal flesh on a permanent basis, something unthinkable. For to die as a mortal is to be joined with the Maelstrom, and who knows what happens there. A true death most likely.

  But the true death of a spirit is worse, for we become nothing. And so we found a way to be more than mortals yet less than what we were to escape the war. We became deities, and as the mortals were introduced to the worship of gods we grew in power.

  Gods were nothing new to mortals, for the Progenitors are known as the Seven among many mortals throughout their worlds. Revered and respected, but never before worshiped. Not until we planted seeds for ourselves to be worshiped anyways.

  The first amongst us to gain a true following was Nyx the daughter of Xάος.The first child the Progenitor had in immaculate conception without a Union with another.

  Nyx became worshiped throughout Gaia as the goddess of the night becoming a trail blazer for us to follow. We quickly realized that the more specific the domain of each ‘god’ the greater our power over that domain. But there were unintended consequences.

  The ideas the worshipers had of who we were and our roles in the worlds and their lives started actually influencing who we were. Changing us to become what our worshipers envision over time. And those ‘gods’ that lost their followers also lost their accumulated power.

  The only way to stop this change or power lose being to Sever the aether connection between us and our worshipers before it got too permanent, an action that results in us no longer gaining power from worship but also not being diminished any further by the lose of it.

  Severing became a gambling game, some Severing too early only for their cults to gain a greater following. Others Severing too late as worship of them fell away and became unpopular. Losing their power to be relegated to lesser deities, if even that. Others losing all their followers to natural disasters, famine or war before fully Severing and becoming what we call Ghosts.

  Echoes of their former selves that have some role in the worlds but will never become more than dead things in the larger scheme of the Universe.

  To some I became known as Celphata, the goddesses of darkness. Other’s worshiped me as Erebus, the god of darkness and shadow. The two personas helping to balance each other and gained me very versatile powers in comparable to my many siblings. But not necessarily the most power.

  In Saanjh, also known as Twilight, one of the seven first habitable worlds is were I gained a true following as Erebus gaining great power and a less malevolent continence in comparison to Celphata on Gaia. Unlike on Gaia where darkness is associated with death and silence in a lot of societies. In Saanjh they embrace darkness, thrive on it and honour it.

  Ten thousand of our faction were the trailblazers. Heading to the mortal realms with the huge risks involved and those of us that survived became known as ‘The First Mortal Gods’. And even some that Severed late and lost much of their power still retained a lot of influence and specific power through that title, also teaching us of the power of titles.

  After us though it became harder not easier for other spiritual beings to follow as the Universe realigned itself to maintain a sort of Balance. Some spirits ended up possessing mortal beings and growing through such bonds.

  Others became abstract concepts, not worshiped as gods but acknowledged as having their own domains, like the spirit of the North, South, East and West. Other’s still managed to possess physical objects like a mountain, a tree, a forest, a river, a fire.

  But some who were unable to overcame their hosts where banished back to the spiritual realm. Arriving diminished for the attempt, with no easy way to regain a spiritual body besides the thousands of years needed to grow one, so diminished but not permanently. Manifesting in the mortal realm eventually became so difficult that no spiritual being could accomplish it without help from the mortal realm itself.

  And thus the first contract between mortals and spirits was made, and sorcery was born.

  *

  I sigh as I pat my physical stomach gently. Though as a deity of night I can manifest in my literal form, for the past two decades I have maintained my physical form because of a contract with a mortal. Well not really a mortal but a spirit that was still living his mortal lives, but somehow gained an inkling of what he was.

  A very odd thing to happened, which is the main reason I noticed him to begin with. This human spirit known as Atticus the Bold whose last reincarnation I now carry in my womb.

  Chapter 18

  Sachihiro

  I float within the pool of water used as a communal bath house. Soaking gently and drifting to and fro slightly. Only Om and I in this particular pool. The water temperature and pressure perfect as I occasionally sink down to fully relax before coming up for a breath. I miss my baby.

  The talk with ma after the fight yesterday wasn’t about the fight specifically. She asked me about Vigdis Saya del’Mira again. My daughter with Mira, conceived on the trip to the Hito people. At the time we didn’t know where we were going, we didn’t know how long it would take to get there and we didn’t even know if we would survive the trip.

  There are creatures in those mountains even Asriel as an Awakened Lord made sure we skirted well and far away from. We had been traveling together, training together, learning everything we could from Asriel together, surviving a few close calls together.

  By the time we first had sex we had developed a mutual
respect and a slight attraction to one another. Mira is beautiful there is no question about that. With her fiery red hair, beautiful brown eyes, well symmetrical face, toned yet supple body and narrow waist with wide hips.

  But she had a very foul mouth which at first prevented me from seeing that and dismissing her as a southern savage. But we got to know each other, respect each other and rely on each other. We managed to open all our chakra points on that journey through the mountains and valleys and we did that by opening up about ourselves.

  Asriel and Mira learnt a bit about my personal life, some of my shames, some of my aspirations and private dreams. And I learnt about theirs, even Asriel’s with his son he never knew he had, Monk. The son who surpassed him in every way causing jealousy within my mentor who confronted him, only to find out that Monk was his son.

  I still think that’s an odd thing not to know, who your son is. Ma asked about Mira, about whether we had intentions to be mated, about our child Vigdis and the child expected to be born.

  Mira was raised a happy and carefree child but ended up a slave. Her own ma trading her to slavery to save herself the same fate. Knowing what she now knows would have happened to her ma, Mira sometimes wonders whether or not to hate her still. But that hate and anger has been the only thing keeping her warm some nights where others would have given up.

  I told ma Mira and I wouldn’t mate, but could possibly have other children besides the two. Sex with Mira is not something I see myself giving up if I can help it. And her absence is felt now that I have no release. Especially after getting used to having sex almost on a daily basis. The woman is incorrigible, but now I have a sex drive that is driving me along the wall without release.

  Among my own people I have always been a bit awkward, a bit misunderstood and only tenuously fit into the mold of a normal tribesman. Now though I’ve changed. I wash often, dress strangely to them in a combination of my tribal roots and some comforts I got accustomed to in Shimane village.

  I am slightly smaller than most Barbarian warriors, outright lean by Barbarian standards. The Hito diet and training shaping my body more for speed and flexibility than the usual power and endurance, though I have those too. My mother is a foundling, not a tribeswoman by birth and Daewon and I are slightly shorter than average at 8′2″ and 8′1″. Or at least the last time we spoke I was taller.

  Now Dee is off somewhere with a few seers trying to establish his dungeon. I look to my nodachi placed at the side of the pool so its not to far from me. Om follows my gaze but says nothing as he usually does. Only grunting and going back to soaking. Since I’ve been back he has been by my side.

  Though he was mainly Daewon’s friend I can’t deny that I missed his stoic presence at times. And he is very easy to talk to, and I have been. Going on and on about Saya this Saya that and he endures it. Only half listening but he takes it none the less. An admirable trait. A dependable friend.

  I sigh, there is so much to do now that I’m home. The seers say the southerners are amassing for another big battle after a series of skirmishes and are to be reinforced by over a hundred thousand Stone Dwarves. The dwarves we refused to treaty with because they required we sever our ties to the Dawn Dwarves.

  There is a force of the reclusive Undine that has silently invaded our waters and have been spying on us. But because we are starting to get weary of making any more enemies they have largely been ignored. Our emissaries sent directly to their people in their homelands.

  The elves are also on the edge about the proposed treaty. Thinking even less of humans than the fae do and dismissive and disdainful in any meeting without a fae present. An attitude no tribesman can tolerate for long.

  I have been busy catching up and trying to involve myself in the toils of my people but I am yet to truly find my place again. Om has taken me to the work crews twice and under his supervision and that of the overseer I helped build a house from the ground up in just under a hundred hours.

  A hard day’s labour that made me feel like I finally contributed to something positive since I’ve been back. I paddle closer to my nodachi again. That was coming close to melancholy again. I get depressed whenever I’m too far from my zanpakutō. I think we all do, maybe this is why Kazimoto drinks so much.

  His zanpakutō has been reforming within him for almost two millennia now if his age estimates are correct. The Beautiful Madman. The first to form a zanpakutō, doing so using so much of his soul, direct ether and spirit energy that it has taken him over a thousand years to recover. But rumours claim that he is almost to full health again.

  “We gonna stay here till our skin shrivels?” Om suddenly asks and I grin. Om has gotten more assertive as well, and I like it. I know what he’s thinking more often these days.

  “You want to go meet that highlander girl that has eyes for you?” I tease.

  I met some of his new friends after the second construction work crew. A family of highland brothers and an uncle with a sister they dot on who has eyes for Om. I forget her name but I know ma and Tadita have met with her family to talk about a union.

  Om grunts a neutral none committal grunt. The fact that I can now interpret the sounds he makes probably another benefit of my language blessing from the cult of knowledge. Too bad they all died in the raid on their monastery. Only a few priests of the cult of night, light, darkness, rain and ironically death survived the attack.

  “Well isn’t this a pretty sight.” Says a voice prompting me to follow the sound. My eyes landing on a tall beautiful woman placing her clothes and weapons on the side of the pool as she walks into the water naked.

  The sight of her has an immediate and noticeable effect on my naked body, while Om grunts, looks her over and says nothing else.

  “You look familiar.” I say, trying to wreck my brain into remembering where I know the long haired, slightly blue tinged. Tall, slender, muscular and beautiful woman. I don’t think I know any of the Jotnar personally.

  She grins. “I promised to let you clean my blades.” She says floating around the pool as though she were a merwoman. Moving with ease in the water and swimming between Om and myself.

  I smile and look at the hilts of her sheath twin blades.

  “Yes, I remember now. You stole my loot.” I say as I move towards her. Herming her in between Om and myself.

  “You’ve grown young pup, so brazen now.” She says with a smile as she somehow eludes me, swimming away. Om now as affected as I am by the sight of her floating breasts and scowling as though mad at us, or himself.

  “I am an old soul.” I say teasingly as I try to catch her again. The woman looks to be in her thirties or forties but that means nothing to a tribesman.

  Many of the older women avail themselves to the younger men for their pleasure and to teach them experience. Something I was never fortunate enough to encounter in my village. Though I had eyes for Tadita, Om and Harold’s ma.

  “What are your names Norsemen?” She asks looking at Om’s loins eagerly.

  Om is very well endowed, even for a Barbarian tribesman and I’m only average going on small for my people at a little over 7 and a half inches. Om is on something like 9 inches erect and it’s an intimidating sight. I had gotten used to having one of the biggest cocks when bathing amongst the Hito.

  “Om.” Om says as he sways towards her slowly. He gives me a loom and I nod.

  “I’m Hiro, this is Om. What is your name”? I ask smoothly.

  “I am known as Henrietta.”

  “Ruler of the house.” I automatically translate. She gives me a slightly surprised look.

  “Yes, very good. Well then Hiro, Om. Do you care to catch me today or not?” She asks while swimming around us.

  “Oh, we most definitely do.” I say as I redouble my efforts. Om just grunts and tries herming her in with his long arms. The scowl replaced by a look of determination. The young man is too serious for a 20 year old, 21 year old? Not sure anymore but younger than my 23 years of age.

 
; Chapter 19

  The Ancient of Days

  Israel and I spent the first ten-day at the compound getting acquainted with each other and the strappings of current modern society. I adopted quickly to wearing shoes again as they were of elven design and enchanted to almost be imperceptible to walking barefooted. Israel shunned them for their origin.

  I got used to the finely designed pants made by Malachi and mostly worn at the Order by initiates of the ways and paths. Israel disdained them for their human origins. He disregarded the talismans and enchanted weapons for favour of his own crudely made but effective spear. The compound is big enough that we didn’t encounter too many new people and his interactions with others were brief.

  We did settle on a set of clothing eventually. Leather, sinew, suede, exotic hide and fur. All clothing commonly worn by demi-human societies within their various territories on Pangaea. Shoes he went without as we embarked on a journey to free his twin sister and mother from many decades of slavery. The righteous anger in the boy was powerful and would eat him up if it wasn’t curtailed.

  We used mostly mundane forms of travel this time, walking and then riding in a carriage pulled by two beautiful mastiff horses.

  I tutor Israel in the current history of the different kingdoms and their societies as we travelled. Though the boy has disdain for all around him, especially elves and humans me he respects. And he takes my words in like dry ground takes water. Learning quickly and eagerly as though this may be his only opportunity to fulfill his dreams.

  By the time we reached the kingdom of Ulgeria he knew most of the cities and towns along our route by name. After passing two villages and a boarder fort we arrived at our first human town A small town by the name of Westernmost, surrounded by a wooden palisade and armed guards of the local militia.

  The little kingdom surrounded by the Eldridge Forest, home to magical beasts, panther demi-humans, panther demi-elves, a tribe of marsh elves and swamps. Not an ideal place for humans to migrate to but they did, due mainly to the most vicious of all predictors, other humans.