by Andur
“Maybe she gives up when she is faced with overwhelming odds. But it may also be that she turns out to be some kind of fanatic. Or someone who simply has no other choice. I went through all the information we have about her. She has family with Draconis, a brother and her parents. Moonray might be blackmailing her.”
Aswang scowls. “That's a disgusting idea, but entirely possible.”
Doreen tilts her head to stare at the ground. “I can't believe that he would go that far. But then again, I didn't believe a lot of things about him.”
Ishaan makes a dismissive gesture. “I think he is capable of a lot more than that. Someone who has obvious ties to the slavers must have done something to gain their trust.”
My mother nods with a grim expression. “I think we all would do good to forget about the Moonray who once was our ally. Instead we should start seeing him as the traitorous rat he was all along.”
“We are going off course,” Manti complains. “Aren't we thinking about a possibility to subdue Miraven without damage to the surroundings.”
I blow a strand of hair out of my face and decide to end this. “You said that she is a mage. What's her speciality? Anything to look out for?”
Doreen bites on her lower lip. “The girl specializes in area of effect magic. She also has a few skills against single opponents, but I haven't seen her use them all that often. Most of the time she stays out of harm's way to cast spells.”
“So a pure mage character?” Shade asks with a frown on his face. “Easy, we just have to subdue her quickly before she can cast something like soulfire and the whole city goes to hell.”
All heads turn towards him and he realizes what he just said. “It's not like I know magic which can jump from person to person and use their souls as fuel. Preposterous. Just think how dangerous such a spell can be in confined places like a town.”
“I'll deal with it. I have the perfect skill for people like her. Don't worry, we just have to wait for the next exchange.” I lean back and cross my arms in front of my chest, hoping that I convey confidence.
“You have?” Ishaan asks with doubt in his voice.
I nod vehemently and smile mysteriously. “Yes, but it's a secret.”
With that we declare the meeting as finished. All we have to do now, is to wait for the next time our spy decides to send a message. That's either tomorrow, or the day afterwards. Unfortunately we didn't see a pattern to the meetings. It's probably something that Miraven decides randomly and then attaches the next exchange date to the message.
So all I can do until morning is waiting. In my head I start planning the rest of the day. I like to have a list of everything. It makes me feel secure.
Shag my husband.
Shower my cute Seria with love, though that requires wringing her out of Doreen's hands.
Shag my husband.
Feed Seria.
Make some adjustments to the city.
Shag my husband until we fall asleep.
Being woken up by the baby, feed it again.
Then another round with Shade, and sleep until dawn.
Hm, sounds like a plan to me.
The next morning comes much too quickly...
I am waiting at the central square in front of the palace. A spirited soul decided to open a small restaurant in this place. Normally such an establishment would lack the necessary supplies, but Yggdrasil adds a good amount of items to the menu. Though there aren't many items on the list. There is monster meat, bread, fruits and some juices. Mostly stuff which grows on Yggdrasil.
I go with juice to start the day and order it from the nearby waitress.
Miraven left the palace a few minutes ago. By now she should be done with her exchange. The courier will be caught by Quianna and Antonius. That should be easy enough since he is just a mid.
The rest of our group will be backing me up, though I doubt that it is really necessary.
The waitress returns with my drink when I feel a slight tug on my mind. “She is coming,” Shade informs me via telepathy.
I look up and search the plaza for a familiar face. A few seconds later I see her. Miraven is returning to the palace. Her long, orange hair is flowing down between her shoulders and she holds herself in a perfect posture. Neither does she walk too fast, nor too slow; the perfect image of a morning stroll.
I raise my hand and wave. “Miraven!”
She stops, startled, and looks around. Finally she notices me. I raise my glass and point towards the free seat at my table. Just come here and share a drink with me. Nothing is wrong, we have no clue about your secret messages.
At last Miraven decides to join me. It's not like she has a reason to walk off and ignore me. When she is close enough for talking, I greet her, “It's so nice to find you here. I was a little lonely in my quest to try out the various items on the menu. This juice is perfect.” I offer her my drink.
Miraven smiles a perfect smile, though she seems a little stiff. “Thank you. It's an honour to be invited by someone from the leading group.”
I wave my hand dismissively. “Don't blow it out of proportion and sit down. We are more like administrators and you yourself are a god. If you have a problem, you can always come to us. We will take care of it.” I study her droopy, grey eyes. If she ever decides to play a sad, teary character she already has the perfect face.
“I am sure of it. This juice isn't bad by the way,” Miraven's eyes fall down to the glass in her hand and she relaxes a little. It's a slight shift in the way she sits, but I notice it immediately.
I raise my hand and snap my fingers towards the waitress. “Two more please.”
When gods fight with each other it is highly unlikely that it happens without collateral damage. The best example is the battlefield in front of the city. We destroyed a few square kilometres of land and now the area looks like a moonscape.
And that was without either side resorting to mass destruction, which surprised me a little to be honest. Enwick may not have access to a spell on the scale of a nuke like Shade does, but he, or at least one of his minions, must have something similar. I suppose he really wanted the city back, instead of destroying it.
“What are you thinking about?” Miraven asks me with an innocent expression on her face.
I start babbling. “Aw, just about how horrible this realm is. But don't worry, my husband and I will create something that's worth living for. We want for our daughter to live in a nice world. And I am thinking about one or two siblings. Being a succubus makes the entire process incredibly easy, but I am not sure if I want to take the pain again so soon. Maybe I will wait for a while.”
Miraven's expression turns sour, but just for a moment. It's a slight twitch at the corner of her mouth, one wrinkle more at the corner of her eye. If I hadn't been looking for it, even I wouldn't have noticed. I guess she isn't all that bad. But I suppose I've given her enough chances by now. A shame. Well, maybe she really is getting blackmailed.
“Oh, look! Isn't that your boyfriend?” I point somewhere into the crowd on the plaza. Of course there is nobody there. I just want to startle her. Especially since she isn't in a relationship.
Miraven's expression turns surprised and then troubled. Her eyes follow my finger. “I have no boy-”
I form a fist and give her a good whack, hitting the spot right under her ear. A passive protective barrier breaks as my fist overwhelms it through sheer strength. It's enough to shut her down instantly.
To stop her from falling backwards I grab her shoulder and lower her onto the table. She is quite the paranoid one to run around with a passive protective spell. Luckily such measures stand no chance against a determined attack.
I take a sip from my juice and watch the others approaching. Nobody on the street realized that I hit Miraven. It happened so fast that most lows probably wouldn't see it even if they stood right in front of us.
Too bad that she didn't talk on her own, or at least sought out our help. I guess we have to interrog
ate her once she is properly restrained.
52. ~Interrogation.~
“In Inuit mythology, Kigatilik is a vicious, violent demon, especially known for killing shamans. Additionally Kigatilik might be similar to a tribe of spirits known as the Claw People.”
The Journey to the Afterlife
Dedessia, the Sea of Souls, Semper Fidelis
Shade
I empty the bucket of cold water above Miraven's head. She opens her eyes wide and gasps in shock. Her whole body writhes to get away from the cold, but the crystalline restraints of the wheelchair hold. A few moments later she finally realizes that there is no escape and her eyes start searching the room.
“Good morning!” I greet her cheerfully.
“Where am I!? You can't do this to me!” She barks.
“This is the dungeon under the palace. We are using it to interrogate our prisoners. Since we found out that you are secretly sneaking messages to Moonray, it was decided that I am the one who has to loosen your tongue,” I explain. Then I take grip the wheelchair's handles and push her towards the exit of the small medical room. Elona wanted to make sure that she is okay before I get to do the 'convincing'.
“I don't know what you are talking about! You've got the wrong person.” She starts writhing again.
I try to sound sad. “Oh, I am very sure that we have the right person. In fact, we have several recordings of you sneaking messages to your courier. We even intercepted the last one and caught your co-conspirator. He was very qick to spill the beans. Next time you should try to look for someone who doesn't work for money, but also an ideal.
But I have to admit that you guys put a lot of effort into making a map of the palace's new layout. Do you really think that another attack could get farther than the city's walls?”
Miraven stays silent. Either she has accepted that she was caught, or she is conserving her strength to escape when the opportunity arises.
I decide to explain her situation. “You know, getting information from enemies is actually one of my specialities. There are so many things you can do. First, you can invade their mind with telepathy, mind magic, and pluck the information directly out of their brain. But that's troublesome since it involves betting your will against the target's. One of the two combatants inevitably has the weaker will, mind, soul, whatever you want to call it. Once the weaker one breaks, it leaves him or her as a sobbing and drooling mess. A sad way to spend the rest of your life.”
“Option number two is to kill you and take your soul. A soul without the spiritual connection to a physical body can't do much to influence the world. I can lock you inside my mind and have my way with you until you decide to tell me everything. That's actually a very safe method. I've encountered very few people who are stubborn enough to endure such a fate. The only problem is that death is a pretty permanent issue unless you go through a lot of pains to reverse it.”
“You are Angrod. I heard rumours, reversing death doesn't sound impossible to you,” Miraven interjects with a sour voice.
“You are right. But it still takes time. Time which I don't want to spend on traitors. Three. We can start with a few educational lessons in the real world until you die. Then the interrogation continues inside my soulspace.”
I feel a burst of mana coming from Miraven, but the crystal handcuffs are sucking it up before she can use her magic. She is bound at her ankles and wrists. Additionally I have a cuff around her belly and her neck to secure her to the wheelchair.
Finally she realizes that her magic isn't going to work.
Once again, I pretend that I didn't notice her attempt to escape. We are on a long corridor with huge windows to the different interrogation chambers. I stop at the first one and let Miraven have a good look.
Miraven gasps upon taking in the scene behind the window. “A big water wheel!? With people from Imothep! They are normal soldiers. What did they do to you?”
I sniff in disdain. “One of them looked strangely at me and his eyes reminded me of a certain someone. I put him on that wheel to see if he remembers something about me. I don't like it when someone forgets one of my lessons. And much less if he works for the enemy.”
We watch the waterwheel for a while. After two minutes of watching the soldier being dunked in and out of the water it gets boring, so I carry on.
Next is a bloody, old fashioned torture room with bits and pieces of people lying here and there. Miraven doesn't say anything, she simply stares at the body which is held on thumb screws and dangling from the ceiling.
I sigh and move on. “Yeah, don't worry. I am using that one only to blow off some steam. We will start with the moderate methods and work our way up to the life threatening ones. There is no point in it if you die on the first day, right?”
I show her to the next room where a woman is mumbling something and hitting her head against the glass. She has worked her forehead into a bloody mess and dirtied the window with a big, red smudge. Dressed in a straitjacket for insane people, there isn't much else she can do inside the small room. “I am sorry, this one has to be cleaned up soon. I've trapped her inside an illusion of me entering and leaving the room. It's not directly interfering with her mind, but it must be disturbing to have someone screaming at you every five minutes. Lack of sleep, depression, after three or five days most people break. The really strong ones manage a week.”
“Why are you doing this? All the rumours about you defeating evil and saving the multiverse, taking down the dictating council; I thought you were the good guys,” Miraven asks with a dejected voice.
“Being good or evil is a matter of perspective. I see it like this; someone hurts me, I hurt him a thousandfold. Someone hurts my family, I kill him. Life is easier once you start living by that rule.” I twirl the wheelchair around and kneel down in front of her. “And good guys? Seriously? We simply exchanged one order with another. We never cared about bringing peace to everyone. The others were just glad that we removed their dictators and left them to their own devices. Our only interest was in living how we wanted to.
That is the circle of life and death. It goes on and on. And as you see in this realm, even the multiverse isn't an exception. Not surprising if you think about it. Given that I already restarted the multiverse several times.”
“What are you talking about? This is Dedessia, the realm between life and death!” Miraven screams.
I purse my lips. “I don't think so. The multiverse died and this is the new iteration with slightly different physics. The old multiverse wouldn't have allowed for an infinite realm like Dedessia. Call this multiverse version x to the power n.”
She shakes her head. “Then why don't we remember anything about Dedessia!”
I stand up and turn her around. “Because this iteration is too young and I highly doubt that there are many gods who manage to live long enough to regain their memories about Dedessia. I have regained almost all of my memories by now, but that's only because I share a soulbond with two others.
My memories returned in almost chronological order and from what I heard, it is the same for the others. How many gods manage to become older than a hundred years before they get eaten by a spirit or killed by another god? This realm is simply too violent. Maybe there are some selected individuals out there who managed to piece the truth together.
“Take Doreen as an example. She is a fucking Methuselah of this world, isn't she? Over two thousand years of regaining memories. Right? Or Ishaan?” I answer with a cheery voice.
“R- r- right,” Miraven answers shaken.
“So, and she only regained memories up to the point of being some old deity of the planet Earth. I don't know if you ever reincarnated there, nice planet, but no magic. The location was in a godforsaken corner of the multiverse. My own timeline takes me a lot farther into the future. Ishaan remembers the days when the council fell and my pantheon took over. But his memories end a few thousand years after that. Elona and I remember a lot more after that point. The multive
rse existed for quite a while. And there is also the fact that this world has no pathways...”
I continue guiding Miraven through my little horror show, explaining the various rooms to her. I am especially proud of the one where you get pricked with needles all day long while being healed by a passive regeneration spell.
Once we arrive at the last room, I gesture at the window. “How about starting with this one? Being tied naked to a bed and tickled with feathers all day long isn't that bad. I even increased the oxygen content in the room's atmosphere. It is to make sure that nobody dies from laughing too much. We can do this as a warm-up. If you aren't that ticklish, then we can always ask my wife to heighten your senses. She is good at things like that.”
I hit my fist into my palm. “That's actually a wonderful idea! If Elona can brew up something that makes the prick of a needle feel like being stabbed by a sword...
“A totally new world!” I call out.
Miraven doesn't answer, so I walk around the wheelchair to look at her. She seems a little pale and doesn't look that well. Her eyes seem glued to her knees. Maybe the prospect of having the honour to be the first to make a speed-run through all my torture rooms is getting to her?
Finally she decides to say something. “Please. I'll tell you everything you want to know. Just try to save my family.”
I stroke my chin and regard her for a few moments. “So you are one of those guys. What's Moonray threatening you with?”
53. ~Split the Dragon.~
“A dragon is a legendary creature, typically scaled or fire-spewing; with serpentine, reptilian and avian traits, that features in the myths of many cultures. There are two distinct cultural traditions of dragons:
European dragon, derived from European folk traditions and ultimately related to Balkans and Western Asian mythologies. Most are depicted as reptilian creatures with animal-level intelligence, four legs and a detached set of wings.
Chinese dragon, with counterparts in Japan (namely the Japanese dragon), Korea and other East Asian countries. Most are depicted as serpentine creatures with above-average intelligence, four legs and wingless.”