Maru gathered his wits at the sight of the coin. There were so many questions percolating in his thoughts but he ignored them. He decided to push on with the script of his mission despite his new doubts about the Brotherhood although he did make some changes to the plan. He grabbed for his briefcase which had been almost forgotten in the booth beside him.

“This supplicant comes before you in the hopes of—,” Maru began to say in the ancient, ritual language.

“I’m going to stop you right there, son,” the Father said, interrupting him. “While I appreciate your manners and boy do I have to say, it’s a blast from the past hearing someone speak in Akkadian, let’s dispense with the pseudo-religious talk. I get enough of that from those folks over at the Church of the Restful Dead.”

“Very well, Father,” Maru responded, recovering quickly. “I was sent here by the Brotherhood of Kings. My body and mind have been conditioned to be as close to perfection as possible and I have been extensively trained in martial arts, social etiquette, and mana control. The Council of Six has hopes that you will find me worthy of receiving your guidance and perhaps, one day, becoming one of your Anunnaki.”

There were many names for the Aspect known as the Father: the Undying Dreamer, the Progenitor of Man, the Lord of Souls, The Shadow of Death… The list went on and on. However, the Brotherhood knew him by another name preserved since the days of yore before the Great Trial.

Kingmaker.

In the ancient Old World, the Father had a hand in some of mankind’s greatest rulers; Menes, Sargon, Solomon, and others whose names were lost were all great rulers guided to greatness by the Kingmaker according to their oldest texts, preserved with the greatest of care even through the Great Trial.

“Hm.” The Father took another drag from his cigarette, eyes closed and head tilted back. Two trails of smoke blew out of his nose toward the ceiling. The smoke swirled unnaturally forming vague figures and shapes before it dispersed. Still looking up, he said, “Is that all?”

It wasn’t but Maru had refrained from continuing. It seemed like the Father was reminiscing, something he saw the appeal in with his memories slowly resurfacing.

It was probably nice like remembering the warmth of his mother’s embrace so he didn’t want to interrupt.

Am I empathizing with an Aspect? he wondered. Was that even possible? He shook his head to shake the errant thought before it broke his focus. Opening his briefcase, he removed a weathered tome wrapped in preservative plastic.

“The Council also entrusted me to return this to you along with a message,” Maru said. He handed the book to the Father. His mouth felt a little dry so he took a drink of coffee before reciting the message. “‘We of the Brotherhood of Kings return this tome entrusted to us back to you. We offer this gift and our brother in the hopes that you will share your wisdom with him as you did with our forefathers.’”

The Father didn’t even look at him as he delivered the words of the Council. His eyes were glued to the tome. He had set down in front of him, his right hand tracing the marks on the thick leather cover; Maru had no idea where the protective film had gone.

“Where did they find this?” he whispered, so softly that Maru barely heard it. The question distorted the reality around them. Apparitions manifested behind the Aspect. The back of the café became a shadowy scene packed with spectral forms sitting at the other booths, talking in groups, and drinking from phantom mugs. Meanwhile, he gingerly opened the book, his gaze lingering on the first page. He looked… sad? Regretful?

Maru struggled to identify the emotion amidst the overwhelming sense of awe. The question hadn’t been directed at him; of that, he was certain although he couldn’t say how. He wasn’t sure it was directed at anyone, seeming more akin to the idle mumbling of man presented with a vexing mystery. The vague intent made what was happening all the more incredible.

All mortal creatures capable of wielding mana had a soul, an anchor to their physical form in the Astral. Upon death, souls went beyond the Boundary, some occupied the Astral, and others disappeared completely with efforts made by invested parties to track them failing. Unless a soul became a revenant, they couldn’t manifest in the physical world after death. These weren’t revenants; they were normal souls at rest and he was no medium, capable of sensing spirits in the Beyond. From what he could tell, it wasn’t an illusion or some form of trickery either. What he was witnessing was something extraordinary.

The Father had split the Boundary.

It wasn’t like anything he’d thought possible. Sorcerers of the fifth order and higher and powerful Awakened could impose impressions of the Astral onto the physical realm. It was a complex technique that required an absurd amount of mana. More importantly, that method only applied the natural warping of reality caused by mana saturation in a controlled manner. This wasn’t the same thing.

Maru hadn’t sensed a sliver of power from the Father even with his heightened sensitivity to mana. Yet, the Astral was there, in the back of the café. Concrete and abstract juxtaposed onto one another. He could get up right now and walk into the Astral shedding his body and becoming a purely spiritual entity.

The Father noticed his expression and turned his head toward the back. “Ah, curses. My apologies if I startled you. This book belonged to someone I knew a long time ago. I just got a little sentimental.”

As quickly as it came, the scene vanished. He locked eyes with the Aspect and barked out a laugh.

A little sentimental?

He said it like it was an accident. A heady rush of adrenaline surged through Maru as he came to terms with the massive difference in scale between the two of them. To his credit, he collected himself swiftly and the Father thankfully didn’t seem to take offense at his impropriety.

“It is I who should apologize, Father,” he said. “I was indeed startled and lost the reigns on my emotions.”

“Is that so?” the Father laughed. He closed the book which instantly vanished. “Well, between the coin and your order’s gift, I cannot deny the legitimacy of your right to request my guidance.” He sighed and shook his head. “Here’s some advice for free: Avoid starting any secret societies or cults, they lose their luster in the face of immortality. You’ll spend more time than you’d like dealing with their plots and fanatics whether you want to or not.”

“Thank you?” He had to stop himself from scowling while he tried to parse through the advice. Was the Aspect saying that there was a deeper plot at hand aside from the Brotherhood’s plan? If so, what could it be? The Father had made him aware of his potential connection to one of his ancestors. On top of that, the Brotherhood had placed subtle compulsions on his mind which had unraveled in the Father’s presence. Had that been planned or was there someone in the Brotherhood foolish enough to try their hand at fooling an Aspect?

“You’ve yet to answer my question, by the way,” the Father said.

Maru failed to keep the confusion from his face. He reiterated, “I’ve come to receive your guid—”

“That is what the Brotherhood of Kings wants you to do.” The Father regarded the coin on the table as he added, “You cannot bear the dream of another to the gates of Etāqu’Astra.”

A shiver ran down his spine at the statement: Etāqu’Astra, the realm beyond the Astral. Its existence was purely theoretical, guessed at by great minds who had achieved a high enough Order of Power to see the farthest reaches of the Astral. To hear it mentioned by an Aspect… It plucked at a deep-seated memory. One of his earliest days in the Brotherhood reading the limited information about the Father and his presence on the Old World, about humanity’s fate in the Great Trial, and the aftermath when the Father emerged. He’d devoured those texts, eager to learn more about the Aspect who had emerged from the Old World. The stories of old had been his comfort in the cold, clinical halls of the Brotherhood training facilities.

“You know, even the Brotherhood doesn’t know a lot about your time on the Old World,” he said making eye contact with the Father who raised an eyebrow.

The Brotherhood of Kings had records spanning millennia and to his knowledge, it was one of the oldest surviving human organizations. Still, their records weren’t complete especially those about their patron. They had weathered the Great Trial better than most due to their significant resources and relative isolation at the time. Still, the story of the Father was a coveted mystery to which not even they had a true understanding.

The Father finished his cigarette and flicked the butt into the ashtray. “Of course, they don’t. Many have tried and failed to find out about my past. Tell me what accounts has your Brotherhood managed to scrounge together?”

“As I said, our knowledge is limited,” he answered, hesitating at the notion of revealing the Brotherhood’s secrets. It was ridiculous, he realized quickly. He wasn’t about to attempt to mislead an Aspect, even one as personable as the Father seemed and strangely, he found he just didn’t want to lie to the Father, not even due to fear or respect. He just didn’t want to disappoint the entity before him. Could it be the lingering effects of another compulsion or maybe something from the Father himself?

He wasn’t sure but he continued, “The Brotherhood records state that you appeared sometime before the founding of the First City but we don’t have an exact date. After the Great Trial, we were able to speculate that you were likely the first astral being to come into contact with mankind. From there, you are mentioned as everything from a god to an immortal to a great spirit by our scholars from numerous ancient cultures across the Old World. Your last cited contact with any of our members was in 44 B.C.E when Councilor Cicero reported a dream in which you visited him to discuss the nature of death. After that, the best we have are unverified rumors and obviously, the major instances of your activity after the Great Trial along with a few, smaller credible sightings.”

“I was the second,” the Father said, his eyes distant.

“The second?” Maru asked, astonished. In such a simple sentence, a theory about one of the prevalent forces of the universe had been confirmed.

“Indeed, there was another creature from the astral who came with me.” His eyes refocused on Maru who was transfixed. “My Libbu.”

His heart? Maru’s brow furrowed. In the old language of the Brotherhood, Libbu translated roughly to “heart” or “center”. Was the Father being literal or metaphorical? It could easily be both considering the being in front of him was capable of bending the laws of the universe as easily as breathing. There was also a decent chance that Libbu was the name of this other astral being. Maru sped through the possibilities, a slight flutter alighting in his chest.

The Father smirked, no doubt seeing through to the desire at Maru’s heart. He gestured at him. “Speak your wish, son. The first step to making a dream into reality is to acknowledge it.”

“I…” Maru gathered his thoughts and carefully formulated his next words. Few mortal in all the universe have had such an opportunity like the one before him. He didn’t want to squander it. “I want to know your story.”

“And why do want to know?” the Father asked leaning forward on his elbows to regard him over steepled fingers.

The question almost seemed silly at face value. An Aspect’s story was a treasure of immeasurable value. Two planets went to war over a single technique passed down by an Aspect just a half-century ago. They were forces of the universe that commanded absolute domain in their territories. A few like the Father wore the mask of mortal guise but all except the Akashic Record were shrouded in mystery. He could’ve given a slew of answers to that question but only one rang true in his heart.

“I want to learn from it. The Brotherhood venerates your legacy yet we know so little about it. I want to know the truth. Why did you disappear? What happened during the Great Trial? How did you become an Aspect? I want to put the pieces together, to understand.”

“Hm, a very human desire, to understand the unknown,” the father said as he got up and stretched. He brushed a few wrinkles from his pant legs before regarding Maru. “Ok.”

“Ok?”

“Yeah.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that.” The Aspect wore a broad smile that simultaneously made Maru feel safe and uneasy.

In his periphery, he saw the skull coin vanish. He kept his eyes on the Father who walked back toward the bar.

“I accept your tribute, Maru,” the Father said. “For the time being, consider yourself an honorary member of my family. Now, come here.”

Maru nearly hopped out of his chair and followed the entity behind the counter. He failed, once again, to hide his confusion when an apron was tossed his way.

“The tribute got you in the door,” the Father said while tying his apron. “But you’ll have to earn your keep during your stay. It’s good that you got here early; we’ve got to prepare for opening but there should be some time to go over a little of what you want to know.”

Maru listened in a bit of a daze as the Father showed him how to operate the many pieces of equipment at the counter and went over the various drink and pastry recipes. He committed the information to memory with ease. All the while, he contemplated his circumstances. Was he about to become a barista under the employ of an Aspect? Surely, there was more to this than the ridiculous situation at hand.

Finally, the Father stepped back asking him to make a few drinks to test his knowledge.

“Alright, while you do that, I’ll tell you about why I disappeared from the world so long ago. It may require a bit of background to understand the full picture but it was love, actually. That damn emotion…”