***The World***

***Ascathon***

“Satellite network going online,” I mumble as I adjust the brightness of the holographic globe at the control station. A week’s worth of labour was enough to set up a network of spy satellites, bought from an advanced part of the multiverse and advertised as the perfect do-it-yourself product. Satisfied with the brightness and sharpness of the projection, I give an appreciative nod.

After all, I want to know what’s going on in the world. So, setting my laboratory up as a spy-network is the logical thing to do.

Scratching my ass, I watch the slowly spinning globe at the ceiling of my bat-cave, illuminating the whole space with a faint, blue light.

“Gods, why does he have to do that all the time? It's such a turn-off,” Willow mumbles behind me.

“I don't know, but I noticed that he never did it while he was his female version,” Karin replies with all the wisdom and observation powers of a child.

Turning around, I glare at the both of them. “I can scratch my ass, or my nut-sack, whenever I want as long as I am a man! It's socially acceptable for the male gender.”

“Not really...” Willow mumbles silently. “I want to know who taught you social behaviour.”

“Aah,” I groan. “Just get on with it. Why are you two here? Is there some new development I have to know about?”

“It's your turn teaching Karin,” Willow explains stoically. “Over the last two weeks Ashley had her fingers on her, and before that, I spent a month tutoring the girl.”

“You know very well that I don't have much time. In any case, I would be a bad tutor because I get teleported around at irregular intervals,” I answer in an expert attempt to weasel my way out of taking responsibility.

“You can at least do a little tutoring with the time you have,” Willow replies and turns around, walking away and showing me without a doubt that it's the end of the discussion.

“I hate it when she does that. A proper minion wouldn't just turn her back on her lord and master,” I grumble, watching her departure. “I am just too soft on her.”

“Yeah. You are one of those people with a hard shell and a soft core,” Karin confirms.

“It's not that. It's just that I can't be mad at her forever,” I muse. “And, you know, that nice, shapely butt is a real prize to hold onto when she bends forward. You can feel your fingers sink into the flesh and pum-”

“Ah! Nanana!” Karin covers her ears. “Let's not go there!”

“Fine.” Turning my attention back to the girl, I order her to give me an overview of what she learned from Ashley and Willow while I continue my work on another project.

After confirming with Karin, I realize that the girl-child picked up an impressive set of skills from both her tutors, so I only teach her one specialised form of magic which should round out her skill-set, Blood Magic. Once I am sure that she has the basics down, I decide to concentrate on overall theory.

But a few days later, soon after the start of our regular lessons, she suddenly seems reluctant to learn the dry theory of how to shape a spell matrix.

“This is so boring! Just numbers and formulas. Why don’t you teach me another spell instead?”

“Karin. Do you know how a battle with magic is fought?”

“Yes.” She breathes in to answer.

“Wait!” I raise my hand. “Let me rephrase that. Have you ever watched a magical duel? If not, then I might take you somewhere where you can learn when you are ready. I’ve thought about taking you to a real-life practice environment anyway.”

I chew on my lower lip as I consider the following explanation. “Karin, when it comes to magic, pure power rarely decides a confrontation. Try to cast a spell.”

She furrows her forehead and looks around the laboratory. Then she shrugs as if saying that it would be my fault if something gets damaged. Even as she raises her hands, shaping the spell matrix for a fireball, I gesture with my hand, sending out a thin tendril of shaped mana.

The almost invisible line of energy impacts her unfinished spell-formation like a whip. Naturally, Karin loses control and her relatively simple spell falls apart before she even manages to summon a sizeable amount of energy.

She tries again with another spell, and again and again. Each time, I intercept her flawlessly, not even allowing her to finish building the spell matrix which is necessary to shape energy into a spell.

Finally, she gives up. “What? Why? What? How!?” She shakes her little fists futilely, letting out her frustration with a scream. “How are you doing that?”

“I know what you are trying to cast, so it’s easy to interfere with your spells. Insert a little more power than necessary, adjust a variable or two, and the whole spell-matrix collapses.” I take a deep breath. “Magical combat is all about predictability. I mean, it’s okay to have a solid set of spells which you can cast in your sleep, but the more a person knows you, the easier it gets to stop you in your tracks.

“Blindly using spells that others created is never a good thing. We always start out by teaching new magicians an easy spell which allows them to push gathered energy away from them. That avoids injuries and mana burn. It also gives the new student the necessary training to control his or her magic. But it isn’t the end of all things.”

Turning away from my work, I make eye-contact with Karin. “At the end of the day, you have to understand why a spell-matrix creates a certain effect. You have to adjust the spells we teach you to fit your style or come up with something completely new. Once you reach that level,” I raise a hand and conjure a fireball above my palm. “You will be able to adjust a spell on the fly.”

Without re-casting the spell-matrix, I change and reassemble it, turning the fireball into a little ball of lightning, and then shove it away from me towards Karin. But instead of lightning, she is hit by a little wave of telekinetic energy which sends her down to her butt.

“Once you can do that, it’s much harder to counter your spell before you can cast it. Once your control and understanding are sufficient, I’ll also teach you a way to hold the components of the spell matrix in position without actually assembling the spell. With that technique, the time-window for interference also shortens and you suffer less backlash if you get interrupted.”

Unsurprisingly, the resilient girl gets to her feet and nods. “I understand. Learn the basics, or I’ll be just a brute who swings a gun around like a club, without understanding what he is holding.”

I smile. “That’s a surprisingly fitting analogy.”

Time flies by as I split my attention between the child and the new machine which I call a mana condenser. It's as much intended to prove my theory regarding the blue mana crystals, as I am aiming at making full use of the theory, should it hold up to a real-world test. Merely recreating mana crystals would be much too boring. Even just enchanting them would be far from my true goals.

If my theory is correct, then mana crystals are very much like a stable form of neutronium. They are pure energy, condensed to the point of taking physical form. Now for the golden question, how does someone manage to condense energy to such a degree? How is it possible for this power to reach a stable state in a normal environment?

So many questions which have yet to be answered.

Well, that’s why I need what I call a mana condenser. A device which isn’t just able to create an incredibly dense form of energy, but also has the ability to direct this power so that I can shape the mana crystal according to my wishes. If I am right, then not only will I be able to create items which are naturally enchanted, but it should be possible to shape something like a computer core.

This core would be like a seed that’s able to tap into the energies around it and grow by itself. Maybe it's even possible to tap into the energy which runs through the pathways.

While having one eye on Karin as she trains a control technique which I taught her, I pick up one of the quartz crystals – a clear, staff-like cylinder – which I slowly grew over the course of weeks in a special machine, making sure that their molecular structure is perfect and that there are no impurities in the material.

A few atoms of another element or a scratch would be enough to fracture the laser light which I intend to use in order to transmit energy within the crystal. As a result, the light wouldn’t be transmitted perfectly, and even a small imperfection would cause the whole device to have a catastrophic meltdown.

Slowly, ever so carefully, I lift the oversized excuse for a glass-fibre cable to insert it into its fixation. Slowly, slowly now. I don’t want to spend another month with supervising the growth of another perfect crystal.

Flash!

Startled by the light, I flinch and the quartz slips out of my fingers. It impacts the blue, crystal floor first with one end, ‘Clang!’, then with the other, ‘Clong!’

Gasping and eyes wide, I bend down and pick up the important part. It didn’t shatter, but one glimpse is enough to notice the fine fractures that run through the quartz, turning it utterly worthless for my endeavour.

Screaming in impotent rage, I approach the nearest wall and bang the quartz-stick against it. “Fucking shit! Three weeks! Three goddamn weeks of work! Curse the creators of the multiverse and all their descends. May they live in misery and thralldom for all their existence!” With each blow, the quartz shatters until I hold only a fist-sized piece. Clenching my teeth, I throw that also against the wall, shattering it to a thousand smithereens.

“Ahem!”

Ever so slowly, I turn around, for the first time consciously acknowledging the room I am in. It’s a large and luxurious office. A large window-front gives a perfect view of the skyline of the Crystal City. And sitting at the large office desk, carved from the bone of some humongous creature, then polished to look like marble, is Tjenemit.

The Council member’s eyes are on my feet, where I stand inside a sea of shards of quartz, messing up his office.

Noticing a trash-bin, I laugh artificially and scoop up the shards as well as I can with a telekinesis spell. “Hahaha. I am so sorry for my outbreak. Whew, we are lucky that you have no carpet in your office. That would be annoying to clean. Hope you understand. I am on an emotional edge since you involved me in this program. Being teleported to random worshippers isn’t...”

One moment!

I look up, searching the room for any mortals. When I find none, I look at Tjenemit.

“No,” The Council-member replies coolly, one eye twitching in annoyance. “I am not one of your worshippers.” He sighs and gets up. “As it happens, I need your expertise. The multiverse knows, people like you should be silenced for good, but as it happens your unique abilities are just too useful.”

I would also like to silence you. I would silence the whole fucking Council if it meant I would be left in peace.

“Okay...” I put the trash bin down. Seems like I get to live another day. “What is it this time?”

Tjenemit gets up and walks around his desk, then pushes some hidden button on the left wall next to the window front. With that, a previously perfectly hidden door opens.

Clapping my hands, I giggle like a little child. “Oh, that's just perfect. Do you have more of this secret-agent stuff? Maybe disguised toys? You guys are aware that things like a secret door mean nothing to us gods? Why don't we just use the pathways to go where you want us to?”

Tjenemit leads the way into the small room behind the secret door and I follow him. The Council member looks at me without saying a word, then his eyes wander to the door of what turns out to be an elevator. It silently closes behind us.

“We are going down to the lower levels of the Crystal City. The tunnel system is protected, so there is no getting in or getting out.”

“You can cut off pathways?” I ask, astounded. I didn't know that is possible. Even as I talk, I can feel my stomach rise as the elevator plummets with incredible speed, stopping mere seconds later with a force which would have brought a mortal to his knees.

He grunts and steps through the opening door. “It doesn't block the pathways. It only blocks our ability to use them.”

Figuring that I wouldn't get a satisfying explanation anyway, I shut up and follow Tjenemit through a confusing network of tunnels which are intersecting each other at regular intervals. Somewhere far away, I can hear the thrumming of some mysterious machine. Come to think of it, I never got to see the Crystal City's source of power. Maybe that's it?

From time to time we come across random personnel of this facility. Subconsciously, I tag them with random services they may or may not fulfill down here. Maintenance guy, crazy scientist, clean-up crew, bend-over secretary.

My mind is still floating and I begin to worry about what may be my job down here. I am far from ready to take on the Council. What if Tjenemit took me down here to make me vanish like the others? What would happen to Willow, Karin and possibly Ashley and the others? Would they be brand-marked as rogue gods if they awakened on their own?

Especially, with Willow, I had given my best to hold her at the brink of transcendence after Janice transcended to godhood and disappeared shortly afterwards. I swear that I'll one day find out what's happening to all those people. I still owe Janice for teaching me about soul-magic.

At last, we arrive at a room which I immediately recognize as a medical bay when Tjenemit opens the door. There is something universal about medical installations throughout most of the known multiverse. From the colour, to the furniture, down to the smell.

A woman is lying in the only bed, propped up with several pillows in a sitting position, her head is resting loosely against the pillow. Three people in white, two women, and a man, are tending to their patient with various machines.

Tjenemit steps aside, allowing me to enter, then closes the door behind me.

After paying short attention to the set of doctors, I concentrate on the patient. She looks very different from what I remember. The haughty and confident expression is gone and a long rope of drool is trickling down the corner of her mouth. Her empty eyes staring at nothing as she lies within the leather restraints which are meant to keep her from falling out of her bed.

Her deep brown hair is hanging loosely, entangled into a wild mane which shows that her caretakers are not in the least concerned about their charge's looks.

Whatever happened to her, there isn't much left of Eris, Goddess of Strife and Discord, Member of the Council of the Gods.

Shoving past one of the doctors, I poke Eris's cheekbone, causing her head to loll to the side like a doll's. “Wow. Something got her really good! What did you do to her? Lobotomy? She is a wreck! Is this what they call 'those who ascend high, fall deep'?”

The medical man who I shoved aside returns the favour in order to get to a machine on Eris's wrist, checking some result on a little screen. Meanwhile, one of the female doctors returns the patient's head to a more comfortable position while giving me the evil eye.

“Eris had an accident while she was working on important Council business,” Tjenemit explains patiently. “We want you to fix her.”

“Me?” I point a thumb at myself, probably looking as surprised as I truly am. I am not a doctor!

“Me sorry!” I continue mockingly. “Me great Soul-Mage! Me not bother with mortal shell.”

Clearing my throat I return to a normal tone when, judging by his expression, I realize that Tjenemit seems to be developing a temper. “No, for real. Why would I be able to fix what your doctors can't? And even if her body is beyond help, just finish her off and wait for her to reincarnate in a new body.”

The doctor who I shoved earlier clears his throat and runs a hand through his long blonde hair while showing me a board with an illusory image of the patient's body, everything showing up green. “We would have done that if it would have helped. But according to everything we know about her body, she is completely fine. That body is healthy and the brain should be perfectly capable of operating within normal expectations. It's safe to assume that even a reincarnation wouldn't make a difference.”

He looks at Tjenemit. “Whatever the so-called accident did, it has nothing to do with her physical health. What was affected was her mind, her soul.”

Standing there with crossed arms and drumming his fingers onto his elbow, Tjenemit takes over. “That's exactly why we are keeping us a pet Soul Mage.” He gestures at her. “Do your best, Ascathon. And don't even consider implanting some kind of Geas or Thrall in her mind. Don't sift through her memories, just repair her. Prove that it's worth keeping you around.”

The doctor raises his terminal to his chest, smiling smugly. “Don't worry, Sir. All three of us are well versed in mind-magic. Even if this man is as good as you think he is, we will be able to notice any mind-altering effects. Or if he took a too deep look at her memories.”

“Goodies. You must've heard some really bad stuff about me if you think I would do such a horrid thing to someone who did me no harm,” I reply. I mean, of course, I definitely would do such a thing if I had the chance to turn a Council member into a loyal puppet. Who would waste such an opportunity!?

Sadly enough, it's probably too dangerous to risk such a thing if my work will most likely get checked by several independent parties. I have no idea about their skills and knowledge, so I would take a real gamble by playing with Eris's mind. Discovery would mean that the whole Council would come down on me like a flock of carrion eaters.

I am relatively sure that I would be able to deal with at least one of them, but what about the others? Not to mention that they command a sizeable number of gods and deities who suck up to them at each of their fingers.

I sigh, trying to sound sad. “You don't believe me.”

“No,” one of the female physicians replies, a cute little thing with chocolate-brown skin and dark hair. “You have enough of a reputation to give us reason to triple-check anyone you touch.”

“Quit talking, more working.” Tjenemit gestures at his comrade. “Fix her.”

Stepping closer, I place a hand on Eris's forehead and close my eyes to concentrate on the patient's soul.

There is no resistance whatsoever when I send my energies deep into her very core. Speaking in understandable terms, what I find is a mostly empty castle with its gates shattered and wide open. It feels like someone plundered her treasure chest... or like something took a generous bite out of her very soul.

I take my time judging the damage in an attempt to find out what caused it. But there is no indication. This is something I have never seen before.

Slowly, I open my eyes and look at Tjenemit. “What the hell happened to her? Her mind and soul look like something took a bite out of them. I know the results of mind to mind combat, but this is worse. It's almost as if something tried to consume her memories, sucked them directly out of her very soul.”

Tjenemit's eyes narrow as he considers this. “We don't know what happened. Like I said, she was working on Council business and when we found her, she was in this state. There was nobody else in the room with her. Can you fix her?”

I shrug. “Maybe, but there wouldn't be much meaning to it. I can try to repair what was broken, reconnect the soul with the body. Though, I can only guess at how things should be. There is substantial damage to her soul's metaphysical connection to her physical body. At a first glance, I would say that all of her soul's recent memories are forever gone. That's for sure. And with recent, I mean the last few centuries.

“Even if I succeed, she would be a different person from the one you know. Her old memories will feel like they aren't her own if I do this. It's likely that she will behave like a child in the beginning,” I finish my explanation.

Tjenemit furrows his forehead and looks down at the floor, deep in thought. Quite some time passes before he comes to a decision. “Do it anyway. We will help her to get back to her feet. Her position as a Council Member was mostly representative anyway. Once she is ready to return to her role, she can retake her position.”

How generous.

He looks up, glaring at me and the doctors. “What are you waiting for!?”

“Yes, my Lord and Master...” I mumble and turn back to the patient, wondering what happened to damage her soul to that extent.