ImmortanJoJo

  Shaed’s eyes never left mine. Like we were having a staring contest, for he never blinked. His steely, bright blue eyes never left mine, as if he waited for me to have some sort of reaction. Shock? Anger? What was he waiting for?

  “Constructs,” I repeated what he said, “They’re constructs.”

  “That is what I said,” Shaed said ftly.

  I nodded slowly. Isn’t that how gods are made? I thought to myself, forgetting Shaed could hear such things. Mother said we pray them into existence. Therefore, yeah, they’re constructs.

  “We’re you not paying attention, Luna?” Shaed asked, his tone now sounding annoyed.

  I perked up and looked at him, his expression causing me to shrink away. His eyes were hard, his brow knitted, carving deep grooves into his forehead as he frowned. The man looked like the most disappointed father, and he sighed with disappointment.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “You’re dumping so much on me right now, I just–I’m having a hard time wrapping my head around everything. You also never fully answered my question, about what happened during the Twilight War.”

  “I’ll get to that eventually,” Shaed said, turning away. He began to levitate down the hall. I followed behind. “There are more pressing matters we should discuss,” He said.

  I sighed and rolled my eyes. “Okay, fine, so the gods are constructs, so what? We already knew that. You were created into a god, therefore yeah, you’re a construct too.”

  “Not like them!” Shaed barked, and I jolted.

  He spun around, his face angry like before, though the inky bckness did not engulf his eyes. He gred at me. “Think about it, Luna,” He growled. “Actually, think about it. You said it yourself when referencing your prior universe’s birth. The Big Bang. How can something be created from nothing?”

  I gulped. “I-It can’t. I-It’s a paradox. It’s unknowable.”

  Shaed eased a bit, his expression softening slightly though his gaze still bore into me. “Precisely. The gods and their legends state their pantheon is what birthed Enora and the known universe. That they gain their power from followers, yet if that is the case, who was there before to follow them? Who gave them their power, who birthed them? Constructs are created, Ami showed me this, he helped create me. He showed me how gods are born. That means, someone, or something, created them. Gods are not merely born from nothing, Luna, something cannot come from nothing. You said it yourself.”

  He’s right. I thought. It doesn’t make sense.

  “They’re omitting something,” I said, “that’s why they killed that empire. Those people knew how to create gods.”

  Shaed’s expression softened thoroughly, and he looked relieved. “You are beginning to see,” he said softly. “The gods themselves do know where they came from. Yet they wish to keep it a secret so that they can continue holding the power it brings.”

  I pursed my lips. “When you say they’re constructs, I picture the machines like the Veinrites use. Or that tractor thing I saw on the farm. Are we talking about machines; robots? The empire you mentioned were technological…” My eyes widened. “Are they like some kind of A.I.?”

  Shaed took a deep breath. “Not… exactly,” He said slowly, which did little to ease my nerves. “You are on the right track. People imagine the gods as mystical beings of grace, almost humanoid-like. Others imagine creatures like the Ursan folk and their beast god. The gods of Enora are projections of these things, but they are not them.”

  “Then what are they?” I asked.

  “I don’t know,” Shaed said, disappointed, his head lowering.

  “Well what are you then?” I asked. “You became a god. Surely–”

  Shaed grimaced. “I said I’m not like them.” He looked at me. “I am not a machine, Luna. I am not…” He hesitated. “I am a man. Or I was. I am something greater. Greater than them, and what I was.”

  I didn’t know how to respond. “What does Ami think they are?” I asked, changing tactics.

  Shaed’s hands balled into a fist, and he sighed as he composed himself. “I don’t know how to expin it, for even I do not fully understand. My memory is also hazy.”

  “Hazy?” I asked.

  He gnced at me briefly before looking to the floor as if ashamed. “I told you time here in this reality is slower than on the material pne. When I failed all those years ago and was trapped within this yer of space-time I feel as if I’ve been trapped here for tens, if not hundreds of thousands of years. I honestly do not know, I lost track after the first millenia. Much of that time, I was a broken man. My mind became stretched thin, I lost sense of myself.”

  He turned to the paintings on the walls. “These pieces. Remnants of my subconscious, memories that remained which I began to compile into these paintings. A way to preserve what my primary consciousness was forgetting. I could not secure it all, but I have enough to reconstruct much of what was lost.” He sighed. “But to answer your question,” He said, getting back on track. “Ami said that the gods are artificial souls given life and intelligence. At least, that was his yman expnation.”

  “Artificial souls.” I repeated to myself. “Eborate please?”

  Shaed sighed. “I just said I don’t fully know myself,” he said quickly. “We would need to contact Ami if you want to know everything.” A hint of frustration was evident.

  I squinted at him. “You’re lying,” I said, and Shaed gred at me. “You do know something. You’re just not telling me. What happened to you revealing all you knew to me?”

  Shaed’s jaw set, and he gazed at the painting we stopped beside. I hadn’t paid attention to it, but what was painted there was interesting. It was Shaed, a human with olive skin and long dark hair, wearing what looked like a white and gold-trimmed officer's uniform with buttons on either side. Beside him was another man, an elf-like creature with long dark hair and bright green eyes. The elf was tall, probably seven feet, a whole head and a half taller than Shaed, and wore some sort of bulky purple pte. The two were standing side by side, the elf’s hand resting on Shaed’s shoulder, and they smiled as if posing for a picture.

  “Why now?” Shaed muttered to himself. “Of all the years, why did you show up now?” He growled at the painting.

  “Don’t get sidetracked now,” I said. “Can we, for once, just focus and stop going off on these tangents?” I asked, frustrated.

  Shaed looked at me. “You’re right,” he said. “I apologize. I was lying; however, I will not tell you.”

  I gred at him. “Why?” He said nothing. I threw my arms up in frustration. “Fine, whatever, keep your secrets.”

  Shaed took a deep breath. “It’s time we discuss our next moves, Luna.”

  I jammed a finger at him. “You still haven’t answered my damn question, you old geezer!” Shaed arched an eyebrow at me. “Don’t py stupid with me.” I was fuming. “You’ve constantly been prancing around it. What happened two thousand years ago? When you tried to conquer the world. Why did you do it? Why kill so many people? Already you said you’ve done shitty things taking over your homend and then became a god, then what? You tried conquering the world? For the love of god, if it’s some Nazi shit, then I’m out.”

  He blinked. “What is a Nazi?”

  “You don’t wanna know,” I said bluntly. “They’re bad people.” I sighed. “The stories say you fell in love with one of the gods, I can’t remember their name, a sun goddess. Something about how you could never be with her and therefore you went mad.”

  Shaed didn’t say anything. Not at first. “The story is partially true,” He said.

  I frowned. “I’m confused, I thought you didn’t like the gods?”

  Shaed nodded. “It’s complicated.” He sighed. “What I did then was foolish. Ami and I thought we could fulfill our mission with force, to unite them. To end the struggle and squabbles over petty issues, like I had done with my homend.”

  “By sughtering those who got in your way–”

  “They would not listen!” Shaed snapped. “Illumina and I tried to expin, she was the only one who sought reason. She understood. Yet, even when their own god spoke of what is coming. They denied her. They denied me…” His hands balled into fists. “And they ended her for it.”

  I blinked. Illumina? I never heard that name. In the books Isa had, they only referred to her as the “goddess.”

  “That is because, like me, they want her to be forgotten,” Shaed growled. “They saw her as a traitor. A false god. Of all those who exist, she was the only radiant among them. A truly good god, and it was because of her kind heart. She was cast out.”

  “So you went to war with the world,” I said softly.

  “It was the only way,” He said but trailed off. Shaed’s head hung low, and he sighed. “At least. That is what I thought at the time. I was blinded by rage, and Ami did little to stop me. Quite frankly, he urged me to go through it. He had the knowledge, I had the armies. Together… together we almost completed our goal.”

  “To unite the world?” I asked. “Under a dictatorship? A theorcracy?”

  “Perhaps…” Shaed said in a low, menacing voice. “I did not merely wish to rule the world, Luna. I wanted to protect it. I wanted all of Enora to work together. Even if it meant I had to become the vilin to have them set aside their differences then so be it. I did it because I wanted to protect them.”

  “From what?” I asked though I felt I knew the answer.

  “From God. The one we know as the All-Father, our mutual enemy.”

  “As I thought,” I said, sinking back. “You’ve known about him for that long? Same for the other gods?”

  “Yes. When Ami showed me the truth, I devoted my entire life to the cause. It is why I became a god, to obtain the power I needed to stop them. To convince the others. But… I had failed,” He said, expression distraught. “I had wrought so much death. I know that I am a monster. At the time, I had understood what I was doing. I justified it. Now, I have lived long enough to see the error of my ways. I know I cannot attone for my sins, this is a burden I’ll forever carry.” He looked at me. “Know that I understand if you despise me, Luna, but trust that you and I are on the same side.”

  I gritted my teeth. I had no idea what I should be feeling. This man, this thing, he was awful. I had hoped he would’ve denied the stories, the necrophage, the bck armies. The storm he unleashed upon the alliance armies. The Twilight War had killed millions for a noble cause to protect the world, yet that doesn’t justify anything. How can you protect something that has already been destroyed?

  “I don’t think it’s right,” I said, looking at him. Shaed seemed genuine, and he looked genuinely distraught.

  “He will lie, he will cheat, he will do everything in his power to make you trust him.” Charity’s voice rang in my mind.

  The two of them. They worked towards the same goal. To end the petty squabbling and fighting, to end death. To bring peace. At least, one seemed far more extreme than the other.

  “You condemned millions to death,” I snarled, and Shaed looked at me, his expression bnk. His blue eyes were shallow and empty as if no life were behind them. “How can you say it’s to protect them?”

  “Sacrifices–” He started, but I stopped listening.

  I turned away. “Bullshit, you’re spouting bullshit!”

  “You cannot argue with the facts, Luna,” Shaed said in a low voice. “I was the reason the Warriors of Light and the Global Alliance exist. Already rge swathes of the world are united, all we need to do now is to stop the two alliances from killing each other and to work together.”

  “So that’s it?” I asked. “That’s your justification for genocide?”

  “It is better to lose a few then all,” He said, though his voice wavered. His emotionless expression twitched faintly.

  I gawked at him. “You seriously think you did the right thing, don’t you?” I asked, my voice hushed.

  He didn’t respond immediately. However, after a moment, he said, “No, but I will not deny the results, Luna… What I did was dreadful. I do not ask for forgiveness, for I know I do not deserve it. All I can do now, is do better.”

  I gred at him, my eyes searching for any ounce of information that would prove he was lying. Yet I couldn’t find anything. He appeared genuine, no, broken. His eyes were empty, and his tone wasn’t emotionless but dead.

  He truly is a monster. He’s no different from Charity and those apostles. Except, what choice did I have? It was either trying something to stop Charity or whoever those apostles were, or what? What if I chose not to follow through with any of this? Shaed could just possess me again. Or maybe I am the key to whatever pn he has to stop Charity, and without me, she and the apostles “get rid of death,” whatever the hell that means. It's probably killing everyone. No one can die if everyone’s dead, right?

  I growled and clenched my tiny fists. “If you do anything or order me to do anything that I disagree with,” I said, “Then I’m out.”

  Shaed gritted his teeth and looked troubled. “I, I cannot make such a promise,” He said gruffly. “What we’re doing, Luna. It will take us pces and make us do things that will potentially put us in situations that you may not like.”

  “Like what?” I asked.

  “I do not have a straight answer,” He admitted.

  “What is our goal then?” I asked, frustrated.

  “To unite them,” He said grimly.

  I blinked. “Excuse me,” I started, “you want to try again? To unite the world? A second Twilight War?”

  Shaed jerked back and shook his head. “No!” He sshed the air with a knife-hand. “Never again do I wish to try something so foul. Already, the world is plunging itself into darkness. I wish to stop it from doing so. To try diplomacy again.”

  “And you think they’ll listen to you?” I gawked. “The one who nearly ruined the world with a vampire-zombie apocalypse?!”

  “I never said it would be easy,” Shaed said almost pleadingly.

  “Master–Shaed, I mean, you’re actually crazy.” I was floored. I turned away, hands running through my hair.

  Me, diplomacy? I could barely handle a phone call at my old IT job. Now, this guy is asking me to talk to world leaders?!

  “You won’t be alone,” he said. “I can try to help. When we find Ami, they can assist as well.”

  “Why do I have to do it?” I whined, now beginning to feel overwhelmed. “I-I’m a kid again. No one will believe me if I go out there and start saying that I have the bloody Dark Lord in my head. I’ll be thrown into an asylum or something worse!”

  “We still have time,” Shaed said, his tone taking on a more calming nature. “Or, I think we do.”

  “You think?” I huffed and rolled my eyes. “Doesn’t really make me feel better when god says ‘he thinks’.” I groaned.

  I’m not hero-worthy. I’m a nobody, just some overweight dude trapped in a girl’s body. I’m nobody but a freak cospying. I’m not cut out for this saving-the-world shit. I just wanna go home with my family…

  “I’m sorry,” Shaed said, “I know this is too much, but the truth usually is, Luna. You were chosen for this because I need you. I truly do.”

  “But you can’t tell me why,” I said, trying to compose myself but doing a terrible job.

  Shaed nodded. “Yes. I can’t, telling you would be harmful. Just know that you are the key.”

  “You’re not making me feel better.”

  “I know. I’m not trying to make you feel better, I’m trying to expin the truth. None of us wanted this, Luna. God, the All-father, is the one forcing this on us. Whatever it is, they are our enemy, and we must convince the world of their agenda.”

  I wrapped my arms around myself and took a deep breath. “H-How? How would we start?”

  Shaed sighed. “I don’t know, but I will think of something.”

  Cailynn Ashflow

  Cailynn leaned over her unconscious sister-in-w, anxious; she tended to the head wound Saria had received when the insane mage attacked them. The back of her head was soaked with a bit of blood where she had cracked it against the wall; thankfully, it was a small cut and not as threatening as it appeared. Head wounds always tended to bleed more, and Cailynn spent some time wrapping the wound with a bandage provided by one of the Ionans. At least, Cailynn hoped it wasn’t as bad as it seemed. She was a former schor and an adventurer, even though she only knew how to treat basic wounds—splinting a broken arm or leg, bandaging cuts, and stitching cerations. Even then, if she had a scroll of rejuvenation, she wouldn’t need to bother with those skills. If Saria was concussed or, even worse, bleeding internally, there wasn’t much she could do, not without a doctor or magic.

  Ever since that pulse emitted by the machine, Cailynn had felt hollow. Her magic tapped. What was once like a roaring river, the burning energy inside of her had been stifled. Her well had run dry. She was vaguely familiar with anti-magic spells and had heard stories of the military experimenting with new weapons, yet had never personally witnessed such devices or spells. She never thought she’d be on the receiving end, and heavens forbid she ever be again. The sensation was draining, for she felt exhausted.

  She had become so reliant on her spells and magic to keep her going throughout the day. A catnap here, a resilient to numb any aches—all of it was gone in a fsh. She knew this would only be temporary. Hoped for it really. Saria, while her injuries don’t appear life-threatening on the surface, would need to be treated soon just to be safe.

  “Silly, woman,” Cailynn muttered under her breath as she brushed Saria’s hair. “What happened to you?” She asked herself. “Why did you stray away from Margon’s fme?” She sighed and gnced over her shoulder towards the pilr of magrite.

  The power source of the entire city. It was more of a natural wonder than anything. It must have been the most giant solid crystal of magrite she’d seen to date. Slyran had mentioned the size of the one the Veinrites held within the fortress; she assumed it had to be about the same size, if not a bit smaller than what was seen here. She wondered how they’d gotten the crystal down here, or perhaps they dug and built around it.

  Who were they anyway? She knew it wasn’t some private contracting company or the Heinmarran government. The archeo devices around here seemed far too complex than what she’s seen or worked with. The Far Reachers? Most likely. The few arcanium pnts Cailynn had seen over her years of travel were very crude compared to this, but they were smaller as well. She wondered how the power was drawn from this machine. She could see metal wiring encased in khantorian rubber coiling all over the machine. Dozens upon dozens of cables led to metallic csps that clung to the pilr and fed back to the wall behind it. Some sort of pumps, perhaps?

  As her eyes wandered over the machine, she focused on the one outlier amongst the mechanical mess around the glowing pilr. Her daughter, Luna. Her small right hand was pressed against the pilr. At first, her eyes shone brightly with ether, and Cailynn feared her daughter would experience what was known as a spell cascade. The result when drawing in too much ether at once and rupturing. A common cause of death amongst overzealous initiates and even cocky renowned magisters.

  Thankfully, this did not happen. Luna, who was then emitting a pale-blue ether, had gone catatonic. Her eyes shimmered with the same blue light as they gzed over and closed. As quickly as she started glowing, it began to fade, the pale light evaporating off her like clouds of mist. Then nothing.

  Her little girl said she wouldn’t be long. That this conversation with this “Master,” the Darklord, would only be a minute. It’s been five minutes now, and Cailynn was growing anxious. None of the Hein’s Guard soldiers who survived the crazed mage’s attack have woken up. The Ionans were tending to them now, and though Cailynn only knew a small amount of their native tongue, she was surprised to hear the three ughing and joking as they looked over the wounded.

  How could they be joking at a time like this? She never could understand it. Slyran was the same way. During their adventuring days on the grungiest days or the darkest of hours, he would somehow find a way to crack a joke. They nearly had just been killed, yet they seemed to shrug it off and find humor in it.

  “I’ve spent too long with my nose in a book and a ruler up my ass,” Cailynn muttered under her breath.

  “What is up your ass?” An older man’s voice snapped Cailynn back to reality.

  Cailynn started and sputtered as she turned to see a familiar face staring at her quizzically with an arched eyebrow. Oscar was his name? One of Luna and Isa’s friends. The Grandfather of the little elf–no, he was an uncle. Right? Yeah, the uncle of the little girl Anne.

  Cailynn blushed heavily, held up her hands, and waved them. “N-No, that’s not what I-I meant. I was just–” She cut herself off when the elder’s face cracked into a broad smile, his eyes twinkling with amusement. Her face was burning as she turned away, unable to get her words straight.

  “I joke, I joke,” Oscar said in accented maurich. “I heard what you said. Though old, I have ears like earwin.” He chuckled and sat on the floor beside Cailynn along the wall. “How she?” He asked, pointing to Saria.

  Cailynn looked at her sister-in-w. Though Saria was known for having pale skin, she seemed to be as white as a sheet. Even shrouded in the shade that was Cailynn’s body, she could tell. “I don’t know,” Cailynn admitted. “The wound on her head doesn’t seem too bad at first gnce, but, I fear she may be damaged internally.”

  Oscar nodded. “Get her to doctor we must,” he grunted and forced himself to his feet despite having just sat.

  “But, what about Luna? She’s still…” She looked at her daughter standing at the pilr's base like a statue. “Doing whatever she is with the Master.”

  “Then stay,” Oscar said, stepping past Cailynn and squatting over Saria. “She is hurt. Help needed. I take her to doctor I know. Not too far… I think.” He pursed his lips and cocked his head. “Where are we?”

  Cailynn blinked. For a moment, she chastised herself internally for thinking everyone had to stay here till Luna was done. Oscar was right. She could have the soldiers take Saria to the hospital, but then he had to go and ask that. The man was old for an elf, about middle-aged, at least compared to those who lived a millennium. Was his mind slipping already? It’s not unheard of for Elders to experience cognitive dysfunction.

  She shook her head and focused. “What do you mean? Do you not remember how you got here?” She asked.

  Oscar snorted. “Trip here was, uh, what word? Krek-show. Yeah! A krek-show. Ruins we came.” He waved his arm dismissively back towards the rge entrance. “Too dangerous. Filled with evil machines.”

  “The Veinrites?” Cailynn gritted her teeth.

  “Bah! Wish I do, much easier, too big to fit in corridor.” He made a small box with his hands to show. “These old machines.” He trailed off, his face scrunching as he thought. “Uh, what is word? Forgotten Empire–Far Reachers!” He corrected himself. “Old constructs.”

  Cailynn’s eyes widened. “So there’s more to these ruins? And there’s ancient protectors lurking?” Oscar nodded.

  Any other day, Cailynn would be thrilled by this. In her adventuring days, she’d round up Slyran and possibly even Isa for another bout of dungeon delving. However, that was the old days, old Cailynn. The version of her that was far more arrogant, energetic, flirtatious, and curious. The Moonweaver.

  Now she was just Cailynn Ashflow. A mother and a baker, and unlike the Moonweaver, she was not excited by the prospect of an ancient ruin filled with far-reacher constructs marching beneath the city. The st time she had–her mind paused, and she grimaced. The st time she’d encountered those things–her mind halted again, and she closed her eyes. No. She couldn’t think about it.

  Lorizio, you rotten bastard. She gritted her teeth and looked back up at Oscar.

  “Is everything okay?” The older elf asked, his brow arching.

  “Yes, I just–you’re right, we must go. If those ruins are filled with those archeo-constructs, then we’re not safe here.” Cailynn started to stand, but Oscar held his hands up, repeatedly saying something in Ionan.

  “Whooaa, whoa! Hol’on there.” She halted, and he spoke again in maurich. “Path we come. Sealed. Tiny hole we crawl through, too big for construct. Beside. Pulse, most likely, uh, what is word? Bed them.”

  “Bed them?” Cailynn frowned.

  “Yeah!” Oscar excimed happily. “Like, uh, sleep! That is word I meant.”

  Cailynn sighed. “From what I know of the far-reachers, I doubt a simple anti-magic pulse would’ve shut them down.”

  Oscar simply shrugged. “This, I dunno, but as said. Tiny hole. Very tight. No fit.” He wagged a finger at her and smiled broadly. “Man was too big, you see, like,” He stretched his arms out wide, and Cailynn rolled her eyes. “Hole could not handle them.”

  “I get it,” Cailynn said, though she couldn’t help but smile faintly. “Crude old man.”

  “Elder,” Oscar chided her gently as he feigned offense. “Not old, old is for geezers who sit on porch entire day. Sipping i’ona tea.” He mimicked slurping from a teacup.

  “Fine.” Cailynn pced a hand on her hip. “You’re a crude and goofy elder.”

  Oscar smiled gently and pointed at Saria. “I take her to doctor now. I don’t know what Luna do, but stay with. Elder says so.”

  Cailynn snorted and rolled her eyes. “Sure.” She smiled faintly. Perhaps this is why Slyran and those soldiers joke around. Doing so meant she didn’t have to let that sense of anxiety press down on her constantly. Turning away from Oscar, she began to walk towards Luna; behind her, Oscar called out in Ionan towards the soldiers. She guessed he was telling them about his pn from what words she picked up on. As Cailynn drew closer to her daughter, she couldn’t help but wonder where Anne was. She and Oscar had been together when the Veinrites attacked, right? Well, the time to ask questions had passed. Perhaps ter, she can tell Luna to contact Anne about that.

  She needed to get her daughter out of there and somewhere safe. Except. Where is safety? The Veinrites attacked from the sky. Like a swarm of dragons, those archeo machines were fast, if not just as destructive. Johanneson was a trap. Like a dessert mirage, it gave off the illusion of safety, yet just like naivety before she allowed herself to become too rexed. Not anymore. They needed to flee, to get as far away from this city and bsted war as they could.

  So she reached out to her daughter and—

  “No, stop!” A male’s voice boomed in her mind as her hand gripped Luna’s shoulder.

  And her mind was overwhelmed.

  "The Cerebellium, also known as the Cognitive Realm, or even the Land of Dreams. It's said to be the realm where all go when dreams take them. Others state it's where the gods reside, and many others believe that's not even a pce. Just some old folk tale carried over from the days of Kings and Queens. As to what I believe, that's what this book is for. It'll be a long, winding tale to express my thoughts on such a matter, perhaps filled with pointless ramblings and hypotheses, but I can assure you, dear reader. Once you are finished, my thoughts will be made clear. But here's the short answer to those who ck the patience. I do believe in the Cognitive Realm. As to why. Well, you'll just need to keep reading... "

  - Excerpt from "Peering into the Inbetween" by Terry Rosewall, Page 1.