Memories of Lysander
Time: Jiǎzǐ 44th, 1st Year of the 108th Epoch
In the Gu Sea, a chasm runs deeper than any other in the claimed Inner World. An order of magnitude greater, in fact, than any shallow hole that could be found on pitiful Earth. The former Beasts of the Sea, may their Souls succeed in the next life, knew to stay away from the lightless abyss. Even in their last few days, when the purple haze was at its darkest and the inhabitants driven mad with bloodlust, not a single Beast dared to invade.
This was not out of fear, for in their berserk state, such a concept was inconceivable to them. No, this avoidance was out of instinct. Should any creature choose to freely venture into this silent unknown, it would mean their end. The what, how, and who did not matter. Every Spiritual Beast that once flourished before the culling games simply knew the cost of entry was too high, and none wished to pay.
Like the Sea, this chasm was not the product of natural forces. Rather, it was dug by an individual with the intent and purpose to be this individual's home. A place of sanctum that reminded the first champion of Gu Sea, the Hellenic Kraken Lysander, where his roots lay—in chilling depths surrounded by death.
Although for nearly four weeks all the chasm reminded him of was that he was being punished for… enthusiastically questioning that mouthy Wanderer. His Mistress sent the Kraken to his quarters with the purpose of meditating on his actions. After all of a day, Lysander decided his only mistake was not protesting at sending that incompetent Spirit to Earth. All the bodiless fool had to do was find some landbound ape capable of stabbing a stick into the ground and bring them back to be Gatekeeper. Yet the Spirit returned with what might just be the most infuriating ant he'd ever have the displeasure of meeting.
Having reflected on his actions, Lysander waited patiently at the lowest point of the Inner World for his divine Mistress to call him back to her side. He never once dared to imagine that the opposite would occur.
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On the underwater chasm floor, illuminated by a rainbow of thousands of bioluminescent coral, there danced a young woman. Her Void black hair and pristine white dress swirled in salt water, still tinged by a lingering wisp of purple. Every movement she made sent conflict into the surrounding waters, primordial turbulence that cascaded endlessly until the surface above was pockmarked by impossible whirlpools.
As she danced, one couldn't help but notice that something was in the woman's arms. She held that something like how a child holds a precious stuffed animal, tightly bound in an embrace that would smother any living creature. Yet what she carried was indeed a creature no bigger than the average teddy bear. It had an uncountable number of stubby arms, fleshy reddish-pink skin, and a single colossal eye that glowed a deep shade of violet. To this ugly plushy-like creature, the women sang.
"He did it!" Celebrated Eris, Bodhisattva of Discord and Strife, her dancing shadow engulfing whole sections of the narrow chasm walls. "He did it! He truly accomplished the impossible!"
"Mistress!?" Cried Lysander the Pet, who was currently blinded by her bosom. "This humble pet does not understand what is happening!"
"Oh!" Gasped Eris and held her Pet at arm's length before giving his rapidly blinking eye a stern look. "I had forgotten that you have been in solitary meditation this entire time. I was far too engrossed with my dear students and forgot to call for you."
"Students?" He asked, not at all bothered at being forgotten.
"Well, did you learn your lesson?" She demanded, ignoring the question.
"Yes, Mistress."
"Good," Eris smirked with twinkling eyes; their divine radiance felt like the comforting warmth of a burning civilization. "Then I shall inform you of what has transpired since we last spoke."
So the two ancient beings chartered away in the crushing depths produced at 99,000 Li below the surface. Eris told her little Pet of the successful negotiations, of the creation of a 6th Faction and the accelerated training its members were undergoing, but what had taken the spotlight was the audacious goal of that Wanderer.
By the end of the recounting, Lysander of Clan Nyx knew two things. First, he was incredibly thankful that no being would ever know of this embarrassing form the Bodhisattva insisted he take when they were alone. Second, the Kraken should have swallowed that Spirit the day he found them wandering the orchard. Then, none of this would have happened, and he wouldn't have to do this distasteful task.
"Mistress, forgive this pitiful pet for daring to question you, but I feel that I must ask how you know of… his success."
"My dear Pet," she pouted. "When did you become so suspicious? Is my word alone not enough?"
"If a Bodhisattva declares that day is night and night is day, then none save a peer could argue." He quoted a favored saying used between servants of the highest Cultivators. "I apologize for my curiosity. If the Mistress declares it-"
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"Ka! Kakaka!" Eris's cackle silenced the not-so-giant squid. "Do not take the rebuke so seriously, I was only teasing you."
By way of an apology, the near-immortal scratched her oldest and only confidant on the mantle behind the fin and giggled as his tentacles wriggled with pleasure.
"Hmm. In truth, my little Pet, I may have left out one recent change in affairs since your punishment."
Eris displayed her Core Screen, an unthinkable taboo for a Cultivator, let alone a divine one, but she knew her secrets were safe with Lysander. Her Pet had proved his loyalty time and time again.
"THE 19TH CUT!?!" Gasped the squid in beak-dropping shock.
"KA-KAKAKA!" Eris broke into a new fit of manic giggles as she began to dance once more, this time holding her Pet like a dance partner as she was swayed by music none but she could hear.
During this mad waltz, Lysander was finding this new reality hard to cope with. Even still, he could not deny the fact that only something as insane and reckless as directly contributing to the birth of a Calamity Cultivator could award her such massive gains. For Eris not only had a knack for fraying the fabric of harmony, she also had a Class that rewarded stirring up trouble on an epic scale.
What will be, will be, and so Fate gains the likeness of a still pond. While the pond inhabitants may stir up the silt and muddy the waters, the surface will remain undisturbed. But stillness had a nasty habit of rotting into stagnant Destiny. In Destiny, there is no potential or change; there is only an end set in unyielding stone. Such a static existence could never be tolerated by the Heavens, for the Dao must be eternal. So, occasionally, an agent of disorder is permitted to break the peace.
Lysander's Mistress was one such agent.
Eris was known through the Realms as the Progenitor of the Original Snub. Many tremble at the title, fully versed in how she obtained it, but nearly nobody truly knew why she sought such a legacy. Admittedly, as is often the case, within the rumor mill and fog of legend, there was a kernel of truth to be found. His Mistress did wish to sow chaos and despair in the ranks of the conceited and pompous pantheon; what forgotten child hasn't craved revenge against their parent. However, revenge was but a sweet dessert when power sat on the table.
The Kraken knew the truth. Everything that occurred, from tossing a single apple to the fall of one of the most quintessential Capital cities under her absent parent's rule, was done in the name of her Dao. Eris had thrown a pebble in the pond of Realm Gaia, known presently as Europa, and the ripple created spurred the Realm to a dynamic state once more. Billions of individual Fates, from the microbial everyman to the accended koi, were swept up and altered forever.
The Trojan War engulfed a Realm for 20 millennia and awarded the newly ascended Bodhisattva five Cuts in a single stroke. However, progressing a Cut at the beginning of a Rank was as stepping over a puddle when compared to the vast oceans one must cross later in the same Rank. For Eris to go from the 17th Cut, a stage that had hardly progressed even a tenth of a percent in Lysander's lifetime, directly to the 19th was insanity. Meaning the ripple created by that Wanderer had to be-
"Oh, Lysander." Cooed Eris sweetly, her words shattering the Pet's troubling speculations.
Dear sweet merciful Dao, the Mistress had used his name… Was it just his imagination, or deep the chasm suddenly dropped in temperature?
"Y-yes?" Asked the trembling Kraken, so frightened he might ink right in front of her divine greatness. "How could this worthless Pet be of a-assistance?"
"Do not be so frightened, my dear, brave Lysander." She giggled, her hair slowly encircling him like an enemy army. "I only need you to quietly visit a Celestial Pagoda and have them deliver a letter to a Cultivator on Olympia."
She opened her palm, and between one massive bink to another, an envelope with her purple divine seal appeared where there was none. The black parchment making up the correspondence was entirely unbothered by the water it drowned in, and remained unsoiled.
Color in the plushy squid's flesh shifted to pale white as he feared Eris was planning to contact that wretched human. At the present moment, his Mistress could escape heavenly punishment as she wasn't responsible for how the former Gatekeeper abused his gains from their deal. No case could be made, regardless of whether she benefited greatly from that man's sin. However, should Eris make contact while aware of what happened, it would be impossible to escape judgment from the Court.
But, it was not Lysander's place to alter his Mistress's will, only to follow it, even to a gruesome end.
"Very well…" He managed to choke out. "To whom is this letter to be sent?"
"Why, to the Hound." The near-immortal snorted, likely aware of the foolish fear of her Pet. "Now that my part in the Bifröst is over, I have finally found the time to write to her."
"Ah! Of course, my Mistress, right away." The Kraken's color flooded back as he gratefully accepted the letter with two tentacles. On a relieved whim, Lysander turned the envelope over and saw the word 'Recommendation' printed neatly in gold script. "A recommendation?"
"The Hound and her team are visiting Olympia during an event meant for Cultivators of her Rank, and she requested any wisdom I could offer."
"The fact that she came to you for advice is proof of her intelligence." He nodded. Which was a fascinating gesture to witness on a creature with no neck. "I am convinced the young Lady's performance will be a sight to behold. She is her father's daughter, after all."
"I know! I only wish I could be there myself. Sadly, going anywhere near that quadrant now would likely drown me in a torrent of fell Karma." Eris pouted before immediately brightening with a monstrous smile Lysander hadn't seen since announcing the start of another Gu. "After all, I am sure the Professor and Spirit will make an excellent addition to the team!"
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The humans of the Tutorial were frightened beyond belief that far too early morning. First, the strange color-changing sea began to resemble Swiss cheese, given the sheer volume of whirlpools forming. Now, the air was suddenly filled with the deafening cacophony of something that almost sounded like a woman's laugh.
Not for the first time, many of the Earthlings muttered a curse against the one who forced them all into this mess. After all this strange world, this hellish training, all of was because of that damned Arbiter.
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End of 'Act 1' of:
Mediterranean Foundations