Chapter 11

Powers of the World

Somewhere on the outskirts of a certain desert, there exists a shack. The shack is unremarkable by most measures, even when the fact that it is in the middle of nowhere in the sands is taken into consideration. Nestled against the bosom of two sand nudes, it was constructed out of the standard clay bricks inherent to the local architecture designs, it had no windows and a single decrepit door. Inside, there was but a single piece of furniture, a hammock slung from the single beam running across the roof of the shack. In this hammock lay a tall man, long black locks running down his head, which was framed by a bushy beard and mustache. He wore a white robe, meticulously stitched hieroglyphs playing tag with one another on the silk. His eyes closed in peaceful meditation, he seemed unperturbed by the pitch darkness he was currently resting in, the door blocking the sunlight from coming in despite its broken appearance. Lazily swinging himself back and forth with his foot, the mysterious wind that was circulating inside the shack gently brushed his hair and opened up his robe slightly to hint at a chiseled body that could only have come from incredibly hard work at the gym.

There was a sudden knock on the door, a specific sequence of taps that only the man in the room and a few choice others knew the meaning of. The man grunted, and on cue, the door opened slightly, just enough for a paper falcon to come fluttering before closing itself once again. The falcon soundlessly flittered over to the man, who in turn lazily stuck out his hand, shaping his fingers in such a way that the owl could comfortably perch itself on. The man, who had at this point not bothered to open his eyes yet, frowned at the implications the hawk represented.

Something big had happened. He did not like it when something big happens.

He grumbled out an unintelligible phrase, one the falcon understood regardless. The falcon slowly started burning from flames not of the man’s doing, barely illuminating the surroundings despite the brilliant conflagration the bird was currently the center of. As the bird became ash, the ash glowed a resplendissant gold, coming together to form strings that in turn twisted and curled itself into hieroglyphs, spelling out its message in its encoded cypher. The man who had yet to open his eyes, let out a sigh, the message this time was not as bad as he had assumed. At least he could justify staying here a few more hours before heading back to the council. His mood back to its peaceful state, he swiped his hand over the letters, meaning to scatter them. To his immense shock, the message reformed into a continuation of the previous missive. He started going over the new page of information, its contents barely able to catch his attention. That was, until he got the end of it. Sitting up in shock

, he read over the information once again. ‘This was not good, most certainly not good’ he chanted in his mind as he mulled over the news.

He got out of the hammock and put on his boots, grumbling as he did so. The downside of his position was that he was rarely free to do much in the way of taking time off, and when he did get some, some sort of political drama was sure to follow. Sliding his hand across the hieroglyphs hanging midair to ensure that there was no more, he did one last quick scan of the message to ensure it was real, third time being the charm and all that.

Fixing the robes of his office and donning his cloak, he stepped outside into the sand, his eyes finally opening to do a sweep of the area. He hated that what was going to happen would happen to that child. But a free god, by the Progenitor.

Free!

The word alone send shivers down his spine. The last time such a thing had surfaced was centuries ago, long before his time, and he was not knowledgeable of the implications. But if it meant what he thought it meant, in so far as the child potentially providing the answer to break free from the limitations placed on the old gods, then he would just have to beg for forgiveness and make sure the child lived in comfort after they were done.

The flash of sympathy that crossed his face gave way to stern determination, the blazing suns that took up the place where irises were supposed to be making the air before him fluctuate from heat. Wings of flame sprouted from his back, he crouched down and compacted the muscles in his legs as taut as possible, before launching himself upward like a rocket, the wings of flame surging through the air with mighty flaps.

He soared east, to where the central power of the Pantheon lay. There were meetings to be held and a war to be planned.

***

Snow fell gently from the sky, swaying back and forth as it went about its way to the earth below. A soft breeze was coming from the mountains to the east, letting the snowflakes play in the air, performing dazzling feats of acrobatics as they swirled to and fro where ever the wind went. The flakes that were not in the path of the wind only looked on in envy as their journey came ever close to ending. They cared not for the sound of metal on metal clashing, nor for the grunts and screams that came from below.

As gentle as the snow was however, the scene they bore witness to below was anything but. The snow carpeting the ground had splotches of red littering its surface, with slushy pools of the substance forming beneath some of the bodies that lay around here and there, there final postures stark reminders of the finality of a blade to the heart or throat. The shabby leather armor that they wore when they were alive lay in neatly cut strips around them, as if someone had taken the time to cut if off of them after they perished.

In life they had been an up and coming group of bandits that had established themselves in the mountains of Sweden. A group of 50 was now 1. Said 1 was actually the leader and the strongest of them all, not that that counted for much in the face of their demise. They had thought that they would last long enough to become a powerful force in the region, to be respected and feared. That belief lasted all of 2 months before she paid them a visit. She had convinced them to follow her into this clearing at the base of the mountain, where it met the forest. Even now, Adrian was not sure how they had managed to get the attention of one of them, but here he was, being stalked like prey. Whereas before he did not believe in the myths surrounding that group, he was now a firm believer, not that it mattered anymore. He was slated to die and all he could do right now was make sure he made them work for it.

He had his back to a tree, his senses stretched to their limits as he tried to track his adversary. Every time his scan brought him to where his once companions lay, the flames of his anger were stoked further, but he forced himself to remain calm and rational, giving himself to the anger could bring about his death sooner than necessary. Taking a deep breath and letting it out, he brought up his sword, holding it at the ready in a ready stance. He started to channel his qi into his legs and arms, boosting his explosive strength in order to both react and strike fast and hard enough to hopefully overwhelm the girl. His defenses on a whole would slightly weaken but he was banking on his own skill to help see him through. That would be his final mistake.

He felt a slight prick on his chest, akin to a mosquito bite. He didn’t even pay it any mind and kept up his vigilance. ‘Strange’ he thought to himself, ‘why is the floor rushing up to me?’

He never realized that he was dead as his head landed face first on the ground, his body crumpling where it stood, a perfectly carved hole where his heart once was.

***

A soft clapping noise filled the quiet area, the sound bouncing off of the mountain and trees in an eerie symphony. In the middle of the bloody battlefield, a person faded into existence. She was short of stature, 4’5” at best, with pixie cut hair as white as the snow falling from the skies. She wore the Aesir’s special brand of scale mail, the scales having been fashioned from dwarves’ forges. Leather strips formed an “x” on frontal area of the armor, done so in order to hold the several pouches that now hung from them. In her hand she held a wicked looking dagger, made of three blades twisted and intertwined into one another, forming a triangular twister, each blade having a particular color. Red, blue and purple for the elements of fire, ice and lightning respectively, the blade was also enchanted with an intricate glamour, meant to conceal the dagger’s existence from the less perceptive.

The young girl, for that was how old she truly was, just having turned 14 last winter, directed her gaze toward the forest line. Emerging from behind a sapling, barely 3 inches wide, was her chosen god, Loki. This generation had gone to a 14 year old girl from one of the fortresses in Denmark 2 years ago and her story was her own. Nearing the 3rd year of her inheriting the gift, she was of average height, 5’4”, and had platinum blonde hair cascading down her shoulders, sun gold locks framed her round face and chubby cheeks, trimmed eye brows made her look like she was constantly judging you and her green eyes gave her the appearance of a Fae creature. One of the relatively sane ones at least. She was clad in a long flowing cloak made of bear hide, two bear heads on her shoulders acting the part of pauldrons. Underneath the robes, she wore scale mail not unlike Sofia’s, the only different being that the enchantments woven in them were far more comprehensive than those in Sofia’s.

Sofia was the assassin’s name, and her mistress was Freja. The Divide was not the most forgiving of places and unlike the mortal side, there were significantly less safe avenues when it came to getting an education in magic.

And in the Divide, magic was everything.

So she had done her parents had done their best to get her an opportunity to become an Exalted. Those who could weave Genesis from Chaos. A few fortuitous encounters later and here she was, working alongside Loki of the Aesir.

“You did good work here So, they were very clean kills” Freja muttered more than said to Sofia as she inspected the corpses on the ground. Adrian was right, normally the Aesir would not bother with small time groups like there’s, but Freja needed to test Sofia against suitable targets and these men were the first who came up when she was looking for options. Sofia got her practice and the common people had one less threat to worry about, win-win.

“It’s not worth mentioning, they were hardly worth the effort” Sofia stated, carefully cleaning her blade before slipping it back into its cylindrical sheath.

“We needed to test the effects of these so called Classes the WMA has been praising so much lately. Tell me, did you feel any different?” Freja asked, having made her way across the field to stand next to Sofia.

“To be honest, I can’t really say yet. It definitely felt like I was much stronger than I had initially estimated myself to be, but it could very well just be all that training that I normally do” Sofia said, her arms crossed over her chest in such a manner that she could hold up her chin and caress it with her fingers as she mentally analyzed the prior battle.

Freja frowned. It had taken her a lot of money to get a hold of a sample of the so called “Classes” that the Belizeans had been researching on. Currently it was only available to specially curated people, and she would not have been able to get one at all had it not been for her paying off the Aesir that was lined up to get one an obscene amount of money. She had chosen Sofia to use the thing because she had proven herself to be very talented and astute when it came to awareness of body. True it was the 1st trial since they had set out, but for even Sofia to not be sure was definitely a tad bit concerning.

“It’s just the first trial, don’t worry about it. If anything, this just proves that we must be careful with it. The instructions did say that they provided structure, so we just have to figure out how they do that. Let’s see if these guys had anything good before we le-“

Suddenly a bracelet that Loki had on her wrist vibrated violently. With confusion on her face, she lifted up the bracelet to eye level and spoke the command word to accept the transmission. A beam of light emitted from the bracelet and went into her forehead, implanting the contents into her mind. She closed her eyes and sorted through the new memories. Her frown grew deeper and deeper as she went over the contents, before finally letting out a sigh of resignation.

“Change of plans Sofia, we’re going back to the Halls. I’ll explain on the way” Freja stated, before turning around with a snap kick, her cloak high fiving the air behind her. Sofia joined in lockstep and the two walked towards the forest before a gust of snow encircled them briefly before fluttering away, taking the two friends with it.

The only markings of their passage were the stripped down bodies of the horrors committed hear that day. But that was eventually buried in the snow, fated to be forgotten.

***

In a certain palace nestled in the Dragon’s Spine Mountains, a servant was hastily clambering up the 5000 green steps that led to the Eternal Palace. Clutched tightly in his arms was an urgent missive that had just arrived via the Jade Oracle. His Radiance would most certainly be pleased by its contents, and the servant for the hundredth time had to stop a grin from crossing his face. His Radiance was very generous to those that pleased him, and by delivering the message he would most certainly count.

He had to control himself however, else he loose face in front of His Radiance by coming across as someone who seeks opportunities. It would not do as the Emperor had very little patience for such things. It was fine to do so of course, one just had to do it behind a veneer of innocence.

As the servant reached the apex of the climb, he allowed himself the opportunity to reverently enjoy the sheer craftsmanship that was the Eternal Palace. The legends claim it was built by the ancient gods at the peak of the highest mountains in China. At the time there was no such mountain, so the gods made their own mountains, and they then set about carving the palace from the rock itself. Using ancient magics, the ancient Sorcerers transmuted the rock itself into the precious materials that now covered the palace. Although the building was referred to as a palace, it was closer to a gazebo more than anything else. A very, very expensive gazebo. The compound sported a massive terrace area just after one reached the top of the stairs. The terrace floor was inlaid with different colors of tiles so that they formed intricate patterns, meaning nothing yet showing everything. Pillars of Heavenly Jade hold up the roof of the structure, the lack of walls allowing his Radiance to have a 360 degree view of the mountains around him. This was important so that the royal family could always keep an eye on their domain. Dragons carved from the purest gold and enchanted for durability and defensive measures were inlaid all over the place, lending the building a lofty appearance. In the center of it all, measured by the great mathematicians of old, was the throne, smack dab in the middle of the Dynasty. It mattered not that the palace was held so high above that there was a cushion of cloud ¾ of the way up the mountain, for the Royal techniques allowed near transcendent levels of divination, or so goes the sayings.

While the Gazebo was where his Radiance spent his days watching over the kingdom, the 6 other mountains that made up the Dragon’s Spine were carved from the inside out to house the royal servants, the royal family and any guests they might entertain. It was little wonder that the less civilized countries of the world had dubbed his Radiance’s humble abode a wonder of the world.

More than just a palace, the reason this place was a national treasure and a wonder of the world as because of its ability to boost cultivation that was famed far and wide. Rigorous testing throughout the years had proven that one could break into the 5th Shell in record time should they have access to the Palace’s effects. As such, his Radiance in all his magnanimity had decreed that those blessed future warriors and wizards of the Dynasty would be allowed a chance to cultivate here once a year. Of course there were competitions to decide such a thing but that was another matter.

Despite the near miraculous level boost the Palace grants to cultivation, it is seldom ever offered as a place to cultivate through any other means besides the aforementioned competitions. Under regular circumstances the protocol was that if you are of a high enough level to not need the boost provided, then you were worthy of talking to the Emperor. Otherwise one would have to submit correspondence to the Emperor via those who meet said requirements. As such, his Radiance was attended by 7 warriors and mages, all whom have broken into the 7th Shell.

Snapping himself out of his reverie, the servant once more made sure the message was safe before entering the Palace, the stone faced guards giving him no more than a passive side eye before their eyes snapped forward. Directly ahead sat the Emperor, clad in his long flowing silver robes, depictions of mythical beasts cavorting all over its surface. Bi Fang, Zhulong, Jingwei, and the Fenghuang where what could be seen from the angle he was currently at. The Emperor was but 17 years old, just having inherited the throne after his father’s untimely death. The seed was strong, as evidenced by the long fiery red hair that he had tied back in a ponytail, the bushy eyebrows that were shaped just so to give him a contemplating look whenever he was not expressing any emotion. He had his father’s round face, and sharp eyes that held the famous yellow eyes of the Teng family.

Once he got far enough as his station allowed, the servant kowtowed 7 times before offering the message towards the Emperor while still in the kowtow. Out of seemingly nowhere, one of the Radiant 7 appeared next to him and plucked the message out of his hands before handing it over to the Emperor. The sudden appearance caused him to break out in a cold sweat. The servant was no slouch, having long broke through to the 6th Circle of the 5th Shell, but the fact that this warrior had escaped his detection while maintaining the necessary distance to strike should the need arise further hammered the point home that the Emperor was protected by the best the Dynasty had to offer.

The Emperor said not a word as he accepted the message from his guard. Unfurling the scroll, he read through the contents. After, he rolled the scroll back up and handed it back to his guard along with a purse of Jade that he took out of his robes. Wordlessly, the guard placed the bag of Jade in the hands of the servants and disappeared once more. The servant kowtowed 7 more times before backing out of the Palace, his arms all the while holding out the Jade as a sign of gratitude and deference. As soon as he reached outside, he turned around and headed back the way he came. He did not need to check the contents of the purse, as he knew already how the Emperor rewarded his subjects. Just by the weight alone he knew that his family would be fed for many seasons to come.

Back in the Throne room, the Emperor watched his Servant leave with mild amusement. How easy it was to appease the lesser folk. Thankfully the exchange required nothing in the way of conversation, just the way he liked it. Zhu Teng was not fond of tedious conversations and it proved to his benefit today as the contents of the message had been enough to light the flames of his fury. Reminding himself of that incident once again, Zhu stood up and walked down from the platform where his throne resided. On the ground, he circled around to the back of the throne and walked to the edge of the platform that over looked the skies below, the white puffs lazily flowing to some unfathomable location that only the Progenitor would most likely ever know.

He tried taking a deep breath to calm the raging storm in his heart, but it somehow only made it worse, his hair billowing all around him as the winds at his command responded to his temperament. Clutching his fists tightly, he bellowed out into the blue expanse, a massive gale punctuating the act.

“Liu Han Dewei, Asura of Blood. I have found you at last and it is high time that you pay for your crimes. We can start with that boy of yours” Zhu silently declared to the wind after his outburst.

The winds flittered about and caressed the young Emperor’s face, carrying with it the tears that had escaped the Emperor’s control.