World Shaman Senkovar Et’Tart waited for the other Imperials to leave before he settled into one of the overstuffed chairs in the suite’s common room. “You are Earth’s Planetary Sovereign, are you not?”
Serenity wasn’t sure why the World Shaman felt the need to wait to ask that. It wasn’t known on Earth, yet, but it would be eventually. It was, however, at least somewhat known offworld and that mattered a lot; Serenity’s reputation would be one of Earth’s better defenses for a while, because many invasions came down to how strong the strongest were; if they were strong enough, they could make their way through massive numbers of the enemy.
It wasn’t true in all places. Enough numbers could work as long as the Tier difference wasn’t too high, and there was usually very little reason for people at a high enough Tier to easily handle hordes to attack. On Earth, the difference between Tiers was reduced; short of the Emperor himself, Serenity wasn’t sure the Empire had any single person that was capable of conquering the planet, and the Emperor would have to destroy the planet’s surface to do it.
That was why he needed the Imperials to know something of Earth, after all; they wouldn’t care about Serenity’s personal power, but if they knew the population had unusual advantages, they’d leave Earth alone or try other methods. Serenity wasn’t about to stop his fellow Earthlings from joining the Empire if they wanted to, but he wanted to make sure they had that choice. It was better if it never came to open conflict.
“Yes, I am,” Serenity admitted. “At least according to the Voice. I’m not the ruler of any of Earth’s countries, though.”
“It’s usually easy for someone acknowledged as Planetary Sovereign to become the true ruler,” the World Shaman stated. “It can prevent many issues, as well. If not to rule yourself, why don’t you support a single ruler?”
Serenity shook his head. “Why would I want to? I want a place that’s as good as possible for me and my people. I don’t want to run other peoples’ lives for them; that’s not the point. It also sounds pretty exhausting. I’ve tried to pick choices that give everyone a chance to make their own future, as much as possible. There are problems, of course,” Serenity couldn’t help but think of the town Legion ran into where the Mayor was effectively keeping everyone hostage.
Strangely, the portal cost to and from that town had mysteriously dropped to nearly nothing for a few months. It lasted long enough that a lot of the population was able to leave and find work elsewhere. It wasn’t good for the future survival of the town as a community, but Serenity suspected that was probably already a lost cause after the nearby dungeons were destroyed. Too much value could be pulled out of dungeons to make places without them attractive.
Senkovar inclined his head a little to the side. “I see.”
Serenity didn’t think he agreed; that sounded more like “it’s not worth an argument.”
“Well enough. There’s no reason you have to rule, I suppose, though you must have the position for a reason. Do you know how you got it?” Senkovar’s words were relaxed, but his posture didn’t match his words.
Serenity wouldn’t have realized that if Aide hadn’t placed an overlay on his vision that pointed out the way the other man’s hands gripped each other tightly and something about the shoulders. It wasn’t the first time Aide had given Serenity an overlay, but it was the first time he’d used it to point out a discrepancy in a person’s actions. Serenity wasn’t certain how to deal with that, so for now he decided to keep going as if he hadn’t noticed but remember it.
Serenity shrugged. “Not for certain. The Voice awarded me what it called Planetary-level authority as a reward for a Path Quest that I completed when the last of the invasion portals to Earth were closed.” Serenity frowned. He knew there was more to becoming a Planetary Sovereign than that normally, but it was clear that he didn’t know what those requirements were. Maybe they varied from world to World?
Come to think of it, there was another reward from that quest, wasn’t there? He hadn’t used it much because he didn’t really need it, so he’d almost forgotten about it. The World Shaman would probably be very interested in that particular reward. “It also let me place something the Voice called a World Interface Crystal. I think it might be for people who can’t otherwise talk to the World Spirit?”
Senkovar visibly sighed. Aide’s visual overlay changed to show that he’d relaxed his hands, though his shoulders were still tense. “That means the World Spirit agreed to it and may even have suggested it. That’s one of the ways to gain dominion; if the Spirit of the area believes you should have it, the Voice will give it to you. The Voice values Spirits, especially World Spirits. You’d think that the Shaman Paths would be easier because of that, but they’re not. You have to work with the Spirits or the Voice doesn’t recognize it as a Shaman Path.”
“Are you suggesting that I should have a Shaman Path?” Serenity shook his head. “I don’t. I don’t remember one ever being offered, either.”
This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
Perhaps this was a result of his odd situation where he was blazing upwards in Tier with far too few Paths? Most people would have four times as many Paths and therefore four times as many Skills as he did at his Tier; while many of them would be direct upgrades where he’d skipped ahead, having a secondary chain of Paths wasn’t that unusual. Vengeance had more than one secondary chain because he chose to Tier up slower than most.
On top of that, many of the Paths Serenity did have were Species Paths. He wouldn’t even see other Paths when those were offered; perhaps he’d missed the Shaman Path the last time it was offered or perhaps he hadn’t gotten offered it until after his last full Path Choice. It was also possible, maybe even likely, that he didn’t have the choice even now. Yes, he’d dealt with Worlds and talked to them and helped them, but he wasn’t sure that was exactly what a Shaman did. He hadn’t intervened on behalf of people with Worlds; instead, he’d helped the Worlds themselves.
The World Shaman gave an elaborate shrug. “You are untrained, perhaps you need teaching before you can follow that Path. Perhaps I can teach you something if we are in the same places for long enough; you will have to choose if you wish to be a Shaman of one World or many.”
That was kind of a hard choice. Serenity cared far more about Earth than he did about other planets, yet he liked both Tzintkra and Aeon. Lyka was too quiet for him to be certain how he felt yet. “Is there any reason to choose one world over many?”
Senkovar laughed at the question. “If you have one World that is of the greatest importance, as most people do, there’s a very good reason. You are a Planetary Sovereign; would you not prefer to talk the best to your own World and leave others alone?”
That wasn’t a good argument, not for Serenity. He had more than one World. On top of that, there was Zon. He’d never promised to try to fix things there, but he did like both Andarit and her father, not to mention Ceney and Xarx. “If there’s a World that is in bad shape because of poor dungeon management, can a World Shaman help?”
The World Shaman frowned. “Gaining five Tiers in four years doesn’t sound like you have poor dungeon management.”
Serenity grinned. “I’m not talking about Earth, I’m talking about Zon. I’m not sure how long they’ve had issues, but as far as I can tell they’ve been mismanaging their dungeons since they first appeared. I think they didn’t go through a Tutorial that taught about them before they appeared?”
“Zon?” The World Shaman took a moment to think. “I don’t know the world. Have you spoken to it?”
Serenity shook his head. “I didn’t try. I probably should have, but that was before I’d talked to a World other than Earth or Tzintkra. I didn’t think about it; I wasn’t planning to stay once I finished what I was doing there.”
“You’ve already talked to multiple Worlds.” World Shaman Senkovar Et’Tar’s voice was flat and calm. Serenity couldn’t tell if that was from a lack of surprise or if it was from surprise extreme enough that he was suppressing his reaction. “Let me guess: that’s why the symbol you’re wearing has several planets on it. It’s not some unknown empire that you’re trying to bring Earth into; instead, it’s the planets you’ve spoken to.”
Serenity glanced down at the shirt he was wearing. It was one of the new ones Rissa had made after they got back to Earth to match the symbol on his chest that included Lyka and Aeon as well as Earth and Tzintkra. “Uh, yes and not exactly? They’re my worlds.”
Didn’t they know that? Yes, he hadn’t exactly shouted it, but Ekari and Stojan Taso were Planetary Managers, not Planetary Sovereigns. Shouldn’t they have already made that connection? He was a Planetary Sovereign and his symbol held three planets and a moon. Wasn’t it obvious?
Apparently not.
The World Shaman shook his head slowly. “I’d guessed you were a Planetary Sovereign based on what Cymryn told me; his theory that you’re a forerunner trying to pull a new world into the empire you belong to would only make sense to an Imperial. I hadn’t guessed four Worlds, though. I suppose I should have guessed at least two. I assume the last two Worlds are recent, after you originally met Cymryn?”
Serenity shook his head. “I gained control of Lyka and Aeon a few months before I met Lord Cymryn. I guess he was going off the symbol on my shirt?”
“Lyka and Aeon?” The World Shaman sounded surprised. “I know Lyka, of course, even if I’ve only been there once since that became its name. Where is Aeon?”
Serenity guessed Senkovar must have assumed Serenity’s question was rhetorical. There wasn’t really any other reason to have connected Serenity to exactly two Worlds, after all. “Aeon is Lyka’s moon. Lykandeon ripped a chunk of Lyka’s surface out along with a piece of Lyka’s World Core and set it up as his Holy Land.”
Serenity frowned at the memory. It was a horrible thing to do to a planet. It wasn’t something he could fix, either; for all that they were linked, Aeon and Lyka were different now. “Aeon’s more talkative than Lyka but neither of them uses words, just emotions. Tzintkra uses words but is quiet, while Gaia is the most vocal once she gets to know you. Maybe Tzintkra and Lyka just don’t know me that well yet? I know Aeon was grateful; it was very clear about that.”
“Lyka ought to be old enough to talk, probably, but that sort of damage…” The World Shaman shook his head. “I know Tzintkra is old enough, but Earth has to have been awake for a very long time if it can talk. You said it was badly injured at one point; do you know how long ago that was?”
Serenity shook his head. His estimates were all over the place; all he really knew was that it was long before A’Atla sank. He’d estimated that it might be one of the mass extinction events, possibly the one at the end of the age of the dinosaurs, but that was only a guess. “Millions of years, tens of millions of years … all I know is that it’s a long time.”