Chapter 677 - Explanations

The room flickered with warm candlelight as Zeke pulled the chair out.  He sat, but he didn’t relax.  Instead, he crossed his arms in front of his chest and asked, “What do you want?”

“I’m hurt, Zeke.  I thought we were old friends.”

“You’ve been using me from the very beginning, and –”

“Guiding you.  Developing you.  But I haven’t begun to actually use you,” Oberon reminded him.  “I thought you might be more appreciative of everything I’ve done for you.  Without my help, you wouldn’t be here.”

“Do you expect gratitude?” Zeke asked, glancing around.  The place looked like an inn’s common room, complete with a few buxom barmaids and a couple of drunk patrons.  He wondered if they were real or just projections.

“They’re real,” said Eveline in his mind. 

Oberon answered, “The mind spirit is correct.  And yes, a little gratitude would go a long way.  I did save you, and multiple times.  Without my influence, you would probably still be stuck in oblivion.  Or having been tortured and twisted into a demon.  You’re welcome, by the way.”

“I think you set all this up.”

“Flattering, but I don’t have that kind of influence,” Oberon stated, taking hold of a tankard of ale.  He downed it with a grateful sigh.  “You want something to eat?  I’ve been watching you, and I know you haven’t had a proper meal in some time.”

Zeke shrugged, though his watering mouth and growling stomach betrayed him.  The last thing he wanted was to accept anything from Oberon.  He wasn’t sure why he didn’t quite trust the god, but every one of his instincts screamed at him to keep the dwarf at arm’s length.

“Why do I suddenly distrust you?” he decided to ask.  “Not that long ago, I took everything you said at face value.  But now, I’m looking at all the angles and trying to figure out how you’re going to deceive me.”

“You have no idea what you are, do you?” Oberon asked.  “You just chose that class without any notion of what it meant.”

Zeke shrugged.  “The Framework told me to.”

“Of course it did.”

“So?  Are you going to tell me?” Zeke asked, annoyed.  One of the barmaids set a bowl in front of him, and the smell alone elicited a cramp in his stomach.  Oberon received a similar bowl, and when he dug in, so did Zeke.  It was quite possibly the best stew he’d ever eaten, and that was not hyperbole.  Everything about it was perfect, and soon enough, he couldn’t focus on anything but shoveling it into his mouth. 

Oberon was right.  For all that he’d survived his descent through the circles of Hell, it had not been easy.  He hadn’t eaten a real meal in years, and his body knew it.

It took quite a while for him to finish, but in the end, he’d consumed four bowls of stew, three hunks of fresh bread, and more than a few tankards of ale.  Finally, he leaned back, satisfied for the first time in recent memory. 

For his part, Oberon had finished long before, but he had yet to return to their conversation. 

So, Zeke repeated his last question, asking Oberon why his instincts were telling him to distrust the dwarf who’d saved his life on multiple occasions.

Oberon answered with a question of his own.  “Do you know what a Primordial is, Zeke?”

He shook his head.  “Something older than a god,” he answered.  That was just about all he knew for certain.

“There were once more of them,” Oberon stated.  “Many more.  As they fought against the darkness – against the forces intent on unmaking reality – we plotted and schemed, and eventually, we betrayed them for power.”

“How?” Zeke asked.

“I don’t know the answer to that.  It was long before my ascension,” Oberon admitted.  “No one was alive that long ago.  But the stories claim that they did it for the same reason we kill anything – progression.  Primordials are powerful, and they…you are worth a lot of kill energy.”

Zeke’s fingers tightened on the armrest of his chair. 

“Don’t worry.  I’m not so depraved that I would try to kill you,” Oberon stated.  “I don’t even think I could, given that what you see before you is a mere projection.  A sliver of my power is far from enough to endanger you.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

Oberon shrugged.  “Because I want you to trust me,” he answered.  “Despite what your instincts might tell you, I want what’s best for you.  I want to work together.”

“Why?”

He sighed.  “I’m tired, Zeke,” the dwarf said.  “I’ve lived far longer than anyone should.  Even before my original death, my people were long-lived, and my new life spans eons.  I am the oldest of the new gods, though not the most powerful.  I want it to end, but my honor drives me forward until I can find a way to ensure the continued existence of this universe.  I refuse to die until that happens.”

“And you want my help.”

“It’s not a matter of want,” Oberon said. “I need it.  You are a nascent primordial.  Even in your infancy, you are more powerful than any lesser god.  You are likely stronger even than a relatively young god like Mak’tar.  He will have an advantage in raw energy, but you are working with a level of personal strength he can’t hope to match.”

Zeke shook his head.  “But why me?  Why was I given this…class?”

“It’s a race, too.”

“Yeah, but why?”

“Divine energy is part of it.  You cultivated millions of worshipers before you even left the Eternal Realm.  There is power in that,” Oberon answered.  “It goes deeper, though.  You learned to tap into it, and in doing so, you were forced to fight your way through a much more difficult version of the Pit.  That descent should have killed you a million times over.  Yet, you persisted, and though nothing but willpower.  You have forged yourself into something different.  The first primordial in eons.  You are special.  You always have been, but in my wildest dreams, I never believed you could reach such heights.”

“He sounds awestruck,” Eveline remarked.

“I am,” Oberon stated bluntly, once again proving that he could hear her thoughts.  He let out a little chuckle.  “You should have seen me after you obliterated my other projection.  I didn’t move for hours.”  He looked Zeke in the eye.  “You are the first real surprise I’ve experienced in millennia.”

“So, my instincts tell me not to trust you because…”

“Because nothing good has ever come from mixing Primordials and gods,” Oberon provided.  “I understand if you don’t want anything to do with me.  If I were in your position, I likely wouldn’t either.  All I can tell you is that I have no ill intentions.  I hope it’s enough that you can trust me.  At least until you escape this detestable place and reunite with your people.”

Zeke nodded.  “Do you have a plan for me to escape?” he asked.

“More of an outline,” Oberon answered.  “It won’t be easy, though.  And if you make the wrong move, you will garner the attention of Mak’tar.  If he captures you…it will not be good.”

“I’ve been tortured.”

“Not by him.”

“What if I’m not okay with just leaving him behind?  What if I haver a personal issue with him?” Zeke asked.

“Then you push it deep down until you’re strong enough to settle it.  That is not today.  That will not be for a long while,” Oberon explained.  “You are stronger than a lesser god, but not by leaps and bounds.  You fall far short of a true god, even one like Mak’tar.”

“You don’t.”

“I have little power in his domain.”

“What?  How is that?”

Oberon sighed, then looked away.  “Domains are the foundation of a god’s power,” he explained.  “They are the anchor, and they reflect a god’s true nature in a way we can’t really mask.  Mak’tar is a former imp.  A venomous trickster at heart.  So, this place is what it is.  A pretty façade masking true horror.  However, domains also provide strength.  They are inviolable by another god.  Even if I’m stronger – and I am – I can’t truly act against him.  Not outside this embassy.”

“Why?”

“It’s the way the universe works.”

“That’s not much of an explanation.”

“I don’t disagree, Zeke, but that doesn’t change the reality of the situation.  If you choose to fight Mak’tar – or if he catches you – there is very little I can do to help, save for sponsoring an outright war by sending my followers here.  I won’t do that.  I can’t do that,” he said.

Zeke ran his hand through his hair and leaned back.  He had one more question, and it was one that seemed obvious.  “But I’m not bound by those rules, am I?”

“They’re more like natural laws.  But no, you are not.”

“That’s why they killed the Primordials, isn’t it?” Zeke guessed.  “Power might have been an excuse, but really, it was just gods banding together to rid themselves of a threat.”

It made perfect sense.

“I can’t say that wasn’t the reason.  It’s just not the one we tell ourselves,” Oberon answered. 

Zeke looked away, wondering if he should have simply skipped the Ethereal Realm to join the eternal war.  But he didn’t even know the name of the enemy, much less what fighting that war might entail. 

“You could ask him,” Eveline reminded him.

So, Zeke did just that, asking Oberon what he knew about the next and final realm. 

“It’s not a realm, exactly,” Oberon stated.  “It’s outside of the Framework.  The frontlines of a war against the enemies of reality.  It is called the Shattered Mind.  I don’t know much more than that, except that it is just as powerful as our Creator – perhaps even more so – and it is capable of creating an endless army of eldritch beings.  Fighting against it is the reason the Framework exists.  We protect our reality as well as all realities that might blossom from this one.”

“How?” Zeke asked.

“All energy is funneled upward, augmenting with each layer of our universe,” he explained.  “And we pass a portion of that energy onto the creator, much as my worshipers impart power until me.  All existence fuels the war, but to truly fight the Shattered Mind, some of us must join the battle in truth.  That has always been my eventual goal, but…but I was too frightened to go alone.”

“I see,” Zeke lied.  He couldn’t understand how anyone could shirk that responsibility, though he supposed that Oberon had placated his sense of duty by working toward raising people like Zeke himself.  “So, what now?  How do I move on?  How do I progress?”

“There are two ways,” Oberon answered.  “The first is kill monsters and funnel that energy into your progression.  You have noticed that yours tatus has changed, correct?”

Zeke nodded.

“That’s not normal.  Normally, the Framework would take care of it via the typical leveling process.  You get levels, it uses that energy to slowly increase your power,” the dwarf explained. “That’s not possible for you because you exist partially outside the Framework.  It will continue to guide you, but much of your progression will be up to you.  I can help with that.”

“And the second way to progress?”

“Kill gods and absorb their divine energy,” he said.  “As I’ve already explained, Primordials are a threat to gods.  Some believe they are our counterparts, meant to keep us on track.  Others think they were our enemies, related in some way to the Shattered Mind.  I don’t know which is true, but the fact remains that the easiest – and fastest – way for you to progress is by killing my kind.  Lesser gods will give you only a trickle of energy, but true gods will push you forward quite well.”

“Why are you telling me this?” asked Zeke.

Oberon leaned forward.  “Because you would find out sooner or later.  Better it comes from me.  But know this – if you want to reach the peak of this realm, you will almost assuredly need to kill the seven major gods.  Including me.  So, I hope you’re prepared for what’s coming.”