Daiden trembled when the aeter spilled from the Mioveroldian Page, in motion, to take the form of a thick book. He could hold it as a separate item, and noticed the page disperse upon the completion of its task. The book slowly descended into his hands, shimmering with green aeter. The Origin of Takshaka, he heard the words echo in his head once more. His gaze shifted to the sword, reflecting a gentle emotion.
“This could be an important step to deepening my bond with Takshaka,” acknowledged Daiden. Aloud he asked, “Would you like me to read it now?”
The jade-coloured, stone sword held to its silence. Daiden felt a nervous energy permeate from Takshaka. It ate away at his heart. He frowned, and decided for a moment to put the book away, out of consideration for his named weapon. But the sword responded this time, reverberating an uncertain approval. Daiden nodded, with respect, and turned his attention to the book. He touched the hard surface and gently flipped it open.
[Your soul is overcome with the memories of Takshaka.]Daiden’s body distorted, pressured by the pull from the book. It started with his fingers. His eyes trembled around the corners, when his arms shattered and dispersed into nothingness. Daiden lowered his gaze to notice his feet succumb next, and then his torso. The magic inched upwards, at a slow pace. He firmed his heart to the effect, convincing his mind of the experience as harmless. The last of his body twisted painlessly and eventually tore away from Mioverold and into the book.
***
Mioverold recognized Void Helena as a special existence, a person of immense influence and power. She stood atop several other influential priests and priestesses, as the Void – as the leader of Sol Sanctum. But among Godvildian nobles, Helena represented something else entirely. A being over several hundred years old, she looked not much older than a woman in her thirties. Her dark, naked body reflected the proportions of a goddess, ever her face – with bright, beautifully separated eyes, and a sharp nose. Given her position, she didn’t often engage with men, but the special few recounted their time with the Void as divine, indescribable.
Aelius felt a strange weakness in his knees, more under the influence of Helena’s smile, and her fluttering brown hair. His aeter failed to manage against the Void’s presence. With clenched fists, he resisted the urge for a touch. Helena’s guide flinched at the sight. She experienced a sense of inferiority, reminded of her failure in impressing the Godvildian High Lord. Her scorn fell on the dwarf, Magellan as well.
“You may leave us, Aura,” said Helena, gently. “I sense that you are not welcome here.”
Aura crumpled at the words. Her expression distorted to disgust, but she held from voicing a protest. She bowed and slowly retreated, before turning away at a distance.
“Please wait a moment.”
Aura stopped. She followed tradition and returned to the company of their visitors.
“I would like to hold you to your proposal,” said Aelius, with a wide grin. “Once I’m done here, with Void Helena, perhaps?”
Aura perked at the consideration. Her face eased to a pleasant smile. She looked to Helena and blushed when the latter nodded in approval of the Godvildian High Lord’s request.
“Leave us,” said Helena, more authoritatively this time. She watched Aura hurry away and refocused to her two visitors. “She covets my position.”
“I can see that,” said Aelius, cautiously. “I don’t think her capable yet, though.”
“You’re too kind, High Lord Bloodheart,” said Helena, with a soft, almost deceivingly genuine voice. With a sigh, she firmed her expression and added, “Well, I suppose you’re here to investigate the extent of the invasion. You needn’t worry. The Relictan soldiers never made it here.”
“I still intend to take full responsibility,” said Aelius, sincerely. “We promise to secure your territory properly for any such future incidents.”
Void Helena cocked her head to one side and burst into laughter. She waved her hand, dismissing the situation in front of her. “Meaningless, absolutely meaningless.” With a smile, she continued, “Dear Bloodheart, are you aware of what makes a Void special?”
Aelius swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded. “Yes, I’m vaguely aware. Your religion follows the path of time, and the Void stands as a presence with the ability to predict its flow. Is that…correct?”
“Yes, yes,” said Helena, absent-mindedly. “But perhaps there’s a deeper meaning to why Mioverold even allows us to exist here, outside Aeterna’s influence.”
Aelius frowned. He failed to understand the Void, but held to silence, in hope for more information.
“Your war with the Relictans was largely one-sided; it boggles my mind somewhat, their persistence despite the might of the Godvildian Empire,” explained Helena, merely adding to the confusion. “You were so close to driving them to another request for peace. And yet, the tables have turned.”
Aelius grumbled. His heart felt a small spark of rage. “What do mean?”
“Ehedus doesn’t want peace,” revealed Helena. “He manipulates your world, his brother, Baha as well. Soon the races will realize, of your God’s transgression. They will move to hunt your prized treasure, your little Awakened, Daiden Lost.”
Aelius fully understood the weight of the words from the Void. History often recorded them as a precursor to the truth, as something near inevitable. His mind raced with the consequences of several scenarios, and paused with simple bewilderment. He wondered if the flow of time had changed due to his actions in the Earthen Realm. It rose to fear, in memory of Nilheim. Helena shook her head then, reading Aelius’ mind.
“You allow war as a temporary solution, to alleviate the exertion of Nilheim,” observed Helena. “But there is a disturbance, yes. Your Empire already stands at a position of supremacy; the unfair acquisition of an Awakened is likely to stew further animosity among the races. But I still predict Nilheim’s growth, to eat away at a fifth of the world in just a hundred years.”
Aelius shivered. It took three-thousand years for the first tenth of the encroachment. Helena’s revelation indicated at complete eradication within a few hundred. It confused him still.
“You dismiss the child easily, Dear Bloodheart,” said Helena, with a smile. “Rightfully so; he’s insignificant, but also important. His death is likely to result in something definite. Protect him, and in return, he might protect all of us. But who am I to dictate Mioveroldian politics? We’ve been wrong before as well, you know.”
Aelius sighed, and noticed his heart ease to the Void’s light-hearted comment. “I suppose it was unnecessary for me to come here and check on you. But I appreciate the enlightenment. The Godvildian Empire stands indebted once more. I hope you forgive and continue to trust us in the future.”
The Godvildian High Lord disguised his nervousness under a mask of calm. He needed to appease the Godvildian nobility first, before all else.
“Meaningless; we aren’t bothered by a stopped invasion,” said Helena. “Maybe bring your Awakened pet here, next time. It’s been so long since I interacted with someone not of this world. You could consider it a form of apology.”
Aelius simply nodded, respectfully.
“Leave me then,” said Helena, with a wave. “I must return to my sleep. The sun, it bothers me so much.”
Sol Sanctum’s Void casually walked away, but halted, and then hummed. “Don’t forget to visit Aura, Dear Bloodheart. You did promise her that. Do remember that you needn’t worry about much else.”
“You have my thanks, Void Helena!” said Aelius, with a deep bow.
Magellan bowed as well, but the sight amazed him, nonetheless. It wasn’t often a Godvildian High Lord bowed as a servant would to his or her master.
“Ah, there is one small thing I would like to confirm before your leave,” said Aelius, hastily. He watched Helena turn, and continued, “Was it him, who stopped the invasion?”
With a slight nod, Helena walked away.
