Chapter 691 - Long Delayed

“They are waiting for you,” Oberon said, leading him through the forest.  Zeke could feel that most were inhabited, much like the embassy back in the Nexus had been.  Though unlike that massive oak tree, these were home only to fairies.  There was no way any could accommodate his presence.

“All of them?” Zeke asked, taking in the sights.  The forest was ancient, with the trees spaced far apart.  Between them were gnarled roots, babbling brooks, and moss-covered stones.  In addition, wildlife abounded, though none of it was aggressive.  As far as Zeke could tell, they were all herbivores, and they lived in perfect harmony with one another.  “They’re not in the tower?”

“Most are,” Oberon stated.  “A few ascended long ago.  I gave them sanctuary, and they have used that to their advantage to grow more powerful by the day.  I admit I tried to poach them from you.  They possess true potential and would make for great additions to my flock.  However, they are devoted to you as no others I’ve ever seen.  You are a lucky man.”  He glanced at Zeke and smiled.  “Or Primordial, I should say.  You haven’t been a human for quite some time, have you?”

Zeke shook his head.  “I guess not,” he admitted.  Even as far back as the Mortal Realm, he’d been a cambion.  And it had been quite a while since then.  So much had changed. 

Over the next hour, they trekked across the forest.  It was an easy walk, largely because the trees seemed to shift out of the way to offer Oberon a path.  When Zeke asked about it, the old god simply said, “They are quite polite.”

Zeke didn’t know what to think about that – after all, the concept of politeness as it pertained to trees was an alien one – but he didn’t make a big deal out of it.  Instead, he simply nodded as if that made perfect sense, which elicited a chuckle from Oberon.  Then, they continued on their way. 

Eventually, the trees grew even larger, and other races made appearances.  Zeke saw a few elves – or elf-like creatures – which caused quite a lot of silent irritation from Eveline.  She didn’t say it, but she had every reason to hate elves.

Zeke also saw a multitude of other races ranging from those with scales to rock-like people whose shape resembled that of dwarves.  To say that they were odd would have been quite the understatement, but after his experiences in the Nexus, Zeke didn’t find them quite as shocking as he once would have.

On and on they went, and it soon became clear that everyone in his realm revered Oberon.  They weren’t afraid of him, though.  To be sure, they respected him, but there was no terror that came with his presence.  Not as Zeke suspected was common with other greater gods.

Was that indicative of the type of person Oberon was?  Maybe.  Or he might just treat his followers well.  That said nothing about how he treated everyone else.  Regardless, Zeke vowed to remain vigilant, lest he find himself betrayed.

And he hated having to think like that.

Perhaps that was the prerogative of true power – he wouldn’t have to worry about that sort of thing anymore.  If he was strong enough, people could do whatever they wanted, and their plans would amount to nothing.  Maybe that was the entire point. 

Eveline cut in, “Don’t look now, but you’re getting very close to self-reflection, Ezekiel.”

“I reflect all the time.”

“But you never really look at the underlying reasons behind your actions,” she said.  “You have a surface-level understanding of what drives you.  If you really want to figure things out, you have to look much, much deeper.”

“Not sure I want that.”

“And that’s why you are who you are,” she pointed out.

With that, they continued on.  Oberon kept a running commentary, describing the history of the place along the way.  He’d started with nothing.  Dwarves were not typically attuned to nature as he was.  However, through quite a lot of blood, sweat, and tears, he’d fought his way to the top.  At some point, he’d garnered the worship of the fairies, which started him on the path to true godhood. 

“True godhood?” Zeke asked.

“We refer to one another as greater and lesser gods, but the lesser are…well, lesser,” he answered.  “No one who knows anything considers them true gods.  They are pretenders, most of whom will never see real power.  Useful tools and nothing more.”

“I see,” Zeke said.  “And me?  Am I a useful tool?”

Oberon answered, “You’re different.”

“In what way?” Zeke asked.

“Anyone stupid enough to try to wield you is bound to feel your bite.  You are a weapon to be sure, and a mighty one.  However, I am not so deluded that I would attempt to control you.  My goal is to help you.  Perhaps point you in the right direction.  But I have no interest in trying to control your actions,” Oberon stated, having stopped next to a large pond.  “I expect that, in the end, you will sacrifice me much as you intend to kill the others like me.  It is the only way you will ever grow powerful enough to join the battle in The End.  I am okay with that.”

“Why?” asked Zeke.

“Because I’m old, Zeke.  I’m tired.  Once, I thought I could accompany you.  That was my goal.  Maybe it still is, after a fashion.  But the reality of it is that I can’t keep up with you anymore,” Oberon explained.  “I wish I could.  Seeing you destroy Mak’tar was a treat, and it’s only a hint at what you will one day be capable of accomplishing.  When the time comes, you will either leave me behind, or you will take my divine energy for yourself.  I can only hope that you will put it to proper use.”

“I see,” Zeke said. 

He didn’t dispute the notion that he would one day kill Oberon.  He’d already considered it, and he wasn’t one to shy away from that sort of thing.  It wasn’t ideal, and he wouldn’t enjoy it, but reality couldn’t be denied.  If it came down to killing the dwarf or not getting what he wanted, then Zeke knew which way he would go.

So did Oberon, which was the point of the whole conversation 

“That is not an issue we need to address at this point,” Oberon stated.  “You have quite some time before we reach that impasse.  Come.  We are almost there.”

After a little while longer, Zeke found himself staring at a massive stone manor that looked like it was in the process of being reclaimed by nature.  Vines hung from every corner while vegetation and moss covered almost every inch.  The structure stood on an overhang that extended from a tall cliff and loomed over an idyllic sea.  Zeke saw white sand beaches down below. 

“My little slice of paradise,” Oberon said with some degree of appreciation.  “When the time comes, you may summon your tower gate over there.”

Zeke followed the dwarf’s gesture across the overgrown grounds to a small clearing.  A few fairies flitted about, clearly having spent some time preparing the area. 

“First, you will want to see –”

“I feel them,” Zeke interrupted.  “Pudge.  Talia.  And…Tucker.  They’re inside.”

“Not for long.”

Just then, the manor’s front door swung open to reveal Pudge.  A second later, a barely perceptible blur flitted across the intervening distance, and suddenly, someone had their arms wrapped around him.  It only took a second for him to recognize Talia, though she looked a bit different than when he’d left.

A hundred years had passed for her, so that shouldn’t have been surprising.

“You’re back,” she said, burying her face in his chest as she hugged him tight. “They kept saying you weren’t coming back, but I knew you would.  I had faith.”

That’s when Zeke felt something else.

A dozen shadows crept across the sun-dappled landscape, though Zeke could scarcely feel their owners.  In fact, he suspected that if he didn’t sense a connection, he wouldn’t have even seen that much.

Suddenly, a shape flickered into being.

Zeke knew it was a kobold, though unlike any he’d ever seen.  His scales were pitch black, with red markings above his eyes and a short, squat build.  He also radiated demonic energy, telling Zeke all he needed to know. 

Once, he’d bestowed a bit of his power on a group of kobold rangers, and they’d quickly become a group of feared assassins.  Zeke hated himself for it, but he couldn’t even remember the name they had taken for themselves. 

It might have been a century for everyone else, but it had been much, much longer for him.  It only made sense that he might forget a few things along the way.

In any case, he nodded at the assassin. 

Only then did he see Pudge walking toward him.  Sasha was with him, though they both looked slightly different.  More refined.  Still beastkin, certainly, but more human than ever before. 

As he awkwardly hugged Talia, Zeke felt tears dripping down his cheeks.  He was no stranger to crying.  He’d done so more times than he could count while descending from one Circle of Hell to another.  But those had always been due to pain, emotional turmoil, or simple stress.

This time, though, the tears were a mixture of good and bad.  On the one hand, he couldn’t put into words the level of relief he felt at seeing Pudge.  The others, too, but Pudge more than anyone else.  But on the other, his guilt over leaving him behind was too powerful to ignore. 

It also highlighted just how much he’d missed everyone.  He hadn’t realized how big the hole in his life had grown.  Not until he saw his friends.  His family. 

Pudge made no effort to cover the ground quickly, though neither did he go slowly.  Behind him came Tucker, who looked much the same as ever.  The only difference was that he’d adopted a broad-brimmed hat and a multi-colored cloak. 

Eventually, Pudge reached him. 

“You’re back,” the bearkin rumbled.  His horns were gone, making him look less demonic.  But the attunement was still there, though it was buried deep in Pudge’s core and surrounded by divine energy. 

“I wanted to come sooner.  I tried…”

Pudge threw his arms around Zeke, hugging him tight.  “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Look, Pudge…I’m sorry for leaving you behind and –”

“It was the right choice,” Pudge said, pulling away.  He had grown much more articulate.  “I see that now.  I felt some of what you endured.  Just an echo in my mind, but…but I would not have survived that.  You were protecting me.”

“You don’t hate me?”

“I did.  For more than a decade, I cursed your name,” Pudge admitted, staring at the ground.  “I abandoned the tower entirely.  I went back to Kabalith where I helped the other beastkin.  Over the next two decades, we slowly established a kingdom.  But they  never forgot you. 

“They worshiped you, Zeke.”

“I never asked for that,” he insisted.

“Yet they did all the same,” Pudge pointed out.  “Eventually, my anger faded.  Every time I felt your pain, I knew the truth of the matter.  Even then, I was too weak.  I couldn’t keep up.  So, I devoted myself to self-improvement and eventually, we decided to ascend.  When I told Talia what I had planned, she insisted on coming with me.  So did Tucker and a few of the kobolds.  Most stayed behind, though.  We were going to bring them all here.”

“We still plan to,” Talia insisted.  Then, she explained what she’d been doing.  Her fate had always been tied to the tower, but according to her, it looked very different now than when he’d left.  It was practically a world of its own, and the various races had established their own territory within.  “The undead are still with you,” she finished. 

“I see,” Zeke said.  “I guess I should see it for myself.  The tower, I mean.”

Oberon then took the lead, saying, “There will be time for later.  For now,  your ascension calls for a celebration.  I have had a feast prepared.  When it is done, we shall see what the Crimson Tower has become.”