After suffering through the leering stares of House Casia-Psellus, we followed Etyl's lead and ascended into the house proper via stairs. Well, the mob behind us climbed the stairs. I was unfortunate enough to ride on this dais of arcana with Etyl while the Troupe danced in midair around us, waiting for us to land in the hollow spires protruding from the First Eye of Zimysta.

Our landing was a spacious court of polished stone, fungal trees, and bioluminescent moss surrounded by angularly gothic edifices draped in cobwebs. Grotesque spiders of every size skittered on every surface; tarantulas in terms of structure, but with skin like carapaces of waxy flesh identical to the descriptions of some demons. For the most part, they ignored the army of drow faces, both foreign and familiar. And surprisingly, me.

It was hard, trying to note their features while the whispers and pleas echoed off the glowing forms of drow around me. Even with the Eternal Eye, they leaked through, especially when many of those crimson orbs showed me the most vile things. The same vile things seen in the other matrons, including Etyl. Yet, in darkness, there was light. Surprising things came from the eyes of a few; therein was my reason for being here. Thus, I stepped off our pedestal with a deep sigh. Only to let out a deeper one once my feet touched the ground.

I outright groaned as the gasps turned into a roar and heads followed the invisible wave shifting the violet moss beneath my feet to a golden hue, uplifting stones to dance around me, and shifting the nearby faerie flames to the sea-green of my arcana.

"So… that happens from time to time," I hesitantly said, hoping nothing more would come.

Etyl didn't seem to mind, however. On the contrary, she spread her arms in glory and shouted. "Welcome to House Za'Darmondiel of Zimysta Falls! The eldest branch of the Eldest House outside the motherland. The first daughter, High Priestess Nadra Za'Darmondiel, and her children." She gestured to a mirror of herself and the eight individuals behind her; mostly vile drow, kin-killers, and three familiar faces worthy of change. Ryda, Sorn, and Nijal.

"High Priestess Yela Za'Darmondiel, the second daughter." She motioned to a much larger version of herself, but with a more chiseled, scarred, and sadistic visage. Contradicting such a barbaric image were Sid, Javrith, Schyrl, and Shaenya; alongside an estranged drow female with fungus sprouting from her hair. Daulery.

Similarly, the next was a star in the dark. A petite drow, a head shorter than me, dressed in crude silk robes and sporting a face meaner than any before mentioned; that, and a mind larger than one could imagine. Likewise, were the eight children behind her. "The third daughter. Mala."

And then there was an entire family that shined bright. Phoruca, Ryldin, Viconia, Aufa, Antton, Aldo, and their sons stood proudly behind the ever-calm fourth daughter, Ilar Za'Darmondiel; one I became curious about after seeing her interactions with Etan through the net. She had a sharp and yet dainty face; with high cheekbones and cropped hair that proudly unveiled the many piercings in her ears. However, I quickly became more interested in the young ones standing closest to Etyl. Twins, no more than a year or two younger than me. "The fifth and sixth daughters, Raki and Ruel Za'Darmondiel." They introduced themselves.

"Some of my daughters, their daughters, and theirs will observe you all during your stay. Yet you are not here for leisure, young Champion. You!" Etyl snapped towards those left unintroduced. "Name yourselves."

A withered drow with the tall and lithe features of the first four children stepped forward. Not to say he looked old, but like Abbot Eiriol, I could somehow feel his age. Regardless, he was dressed in the quilted robes of a bardic scholar and went as far as giving a flourishing bow while saying. "Selph Za'Darmondiel, House Lore Master!"

Following him was a drow almost equal in age, but far more grizzled. His chiseled body was marred in scars from head to toe, yet his visage held the same boyish grin seen in so many other grizzled monks above. Only with the face of Etan. "Evar Za'Darmondiel, House War Master."

The brother Etan talked so much about stepped forward next. An uncanny experienced, as it only seemed like Etan was dressed as an excessively jeweled wizard with an expression that was somehow both angrier and calmer than normal; and I could see the reason in his scarlet eyes as clearly as I could hear it in his voice. "Eban Za'Darmondiel, Second Son and Heart Keeper of the House." And then came the man himself.

"Etan Za'Darmondiel, First Son and House Abbot." He bowed. Then his voice echoed through our channel a second later. {'A disgrace to the title.'}

"I am the one you call The Destroyer, the Eternal, and Telin's so-called Champion." I bowed in turn, fighting back my grin. "My name is Amun, the twenty-fifth child of the Nox. The Undying Reaper; Weaver of Worlds; Devil of Elves; Architect of Arcana. God of Mana."

"Iris Cole!" My daughter declared, landing next to me before anyone could voice their surprise. "Tech Goddess."

"Blude. Goddess of the Seas. Prime Matriarch of the Grand Hadal Enterprise."

"Geri. Celestial of Winter and Spring."

"Freki. Celestial of Summer and Autumn."

"Wilson Koorb, Eldritch Engineer."

"Rickley Ravenbrook, Soul Celebrity."

"Reina Featherfall, Flesh Mother."

"Leary, the Faithful, Goblin God-Emperor."

"The Elven Devil's Troupe."

Although Etyl retained her composure, few others did during our tour. Including me, to a certain extent. We ascended through those ancient halls of hewn stone, padded in centimeters of gossamer, passing corridors leading to wings that were more akin to compounds for the subfamilies, wherein slaves of all types suddenly found their shackles and restraints withering to dust, the paths before them left free. We passed by the library, wherein dusty tomes and scrolls unraveled to self-transcribe their words into the ambient arcana before flowing into me as pure information, adding to the Noctis Archives tremendously. We passed the treasure room, wherein arcana coated the neatly arranged items to appraise them in the blink of an eye. We passed grand industrial spaces and the conduits in my arms pulsed, infusing the ground with energy that powered their constructs and bled a nightly hue into the voluminous dining hall of our destination.

Everything from the tirelessly working slaves to the not-so-hidden courtyards and private caves changed. Everything except the webbed doors on the front face of every level, oriented in the same direction. They radiated with foul, wicked energy, those doors to the Queen Demon Spider's temple. Divine energy. Filthy, pestilent energy, and not in the way my blood made me see kindly. It was chaotic and senseless, ever watching through the eyes of those ruby-eyed spiders, so grotesque.

Even then, I tried opening my mind to some of them, only to be told I was only slightly better than the other males. The spiders of Ilium disagreed. In fact, a jumping spider who found his way into my hair paid no mind to his tiny size and spat at them in disgust.

Atta-boy.

In the grand hall, we were treated to a gourmet dinner of aged steak, mushrooms, and wine spike with with the juice of bioluminescent mushrooms. A staple of drow cuisine that arose from their… familiarity with toxins. An act that came to combine with my necrotic poison resistance to grant my immunity. Of course, my monastic perks gave me the same thing, but redundancies never hurt anyone.

The conversation was light, if not multi-layered with intrigue. They mainly asked about or remarked about my accomplishments over the last year and a half. My displays last year, both with Dende and against my class. Tales of the floating buildings above the Peninsula and the greater worlds above the skies. My walk through Shujen and, of course, the divine beam sent across the World Sea. I answered them both amiably and truthfully by taking advantage of the changes born to the hall. Digishrooms became displays that showcased my meeting with Dende and my fight against Lance. It gave them schematics of Mani's shards, woven worlds, and their hollowed interiors. I told them of my ignorance of the beam still traveling across those vast waters. Then they asked about my parents.

Again, I told them the truth. "I was born and raised in Maru as the royal heir, the Grand Duke, to the House of Cole. Even with my station, I've always been free to do as I pleased, more or less. My father is Emeric Cole. My mother is a Youteran drow."

"Her name," Etyl demanded before I could say it, making me almost roll my eyes in annoyance.

"Eved."

There was some reaction from her; what, I knew not, yet she covered it a split second later regardless. "Just Eved?" she asked. "She never gave you any other name?"

"We've been over this already." I groaned. "You insisted she lost her name during my walk. But if you aren't sure, I can show you this."

I had to hold back laughter once her eyes bulged at the sight of the brooch I was given not so long ago, held out so only she could see and in ways that mirrored the one she wore. More so, I had to fight back from egging her on.

"And where is she now?" She gritted her false calm through her teeth.

"Home." I shrugged. "Wherever that is."

"Yes, wherever that may be." She sneered, then remained silent for a few long moments before rising. "You have been shown your quarters. Rest. When you rise, you will begin to learn what it means to be drow. Etan." She then hissed. "With me."

Everyone in the room watched them go in silence. They, along with the other priestesses, but not the younger Raki, Ruel, and a few others; led Etan like a rothay to the slaughter. Eban, Sorn, and Nijal; Antton, Sid, and Aldo; Selph and Evar. Even Ilar and her children, plus dozens and dozens more, gazed at the exit with placid gazes that belied the whispers of their souls.

'If only I could get away.'

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

'If only I could catch her slipping.'

'If only you hadn't returned.'

'If only…'

I heard their ramblings as clearly as I heard Etan across the comms, poetically saying.{"Tonight, they take me to be beaten. Knowledge is what they seek through violence. Violence is what I shall give through knowledge. They will then attempt to change me. Only to find I have already changed."}

{"You all know how I feel about someone committing such an act to those I care about."} I smiled. {"Although... it may be difficult for me to stick to the plan. This place is a fucking shit hole."}

{'Then do what you do best. Change it.'}

As that word echoed in my mind, a divine disturbance echoed in the minds before me. The fiery auras around the frames brightened, and they turned to me and the Troupe with wide eyes.

"Uh-huh… so." Eban began. "I understand you need no trance or sleep. Is this true for the rest of you?"

"More or less." I shrugged.

"Hmm. Well, I'm no monk and neither is Selph," he swung his arm toward the Lore Master, flourishing his robes with a series of dramatic clanks sourced from his many bracelets. "Trance is something I quite enjoy, and I'll not be guiding you until your time with Selph and Evar is done. Now, I doubt any of us can tell you what to do, but try not to keep the old man waiting. He may croak before you return."

"At the risk of not remodeling the House, I'll remain here and meditate." I snorted, turning to the Troupe. "What will you all do?"

"This place is boring. We're going on a hunt." Freki groaned, rising from the table with his four bards. And not a second later, Geri's small conclave followed in their wake. "Agreed."

"I'm going for a swim." Blude casually shrugged. Yet an urgent warning followed.

"There are dangers in those waters."

With an amused brow raised, Blude kicked into the air to swim over to Raki, lounging in the groves of flowing stone above. "Well, perhaps you can be our guide- help us steer clear of whatever dangerous things lie in those waters." Smiling with a menacing calm, Blude held out her hand for young Raki to cautiously take, and then disappeared down the pits without another word.

That seemed to spur the rest of them into motion. The sons of Antton and Aldo bounded after Freki while Ruel dragged a few others after Geri. "I'm… going to explore." Reina then abruptly stood, leaving her voice to rattle through the comms as she skipped away. {"Something's… calling me."}

{"Oh, you hear that too?"} Iris perked up and followed Reina's awkward and abrupt departure, then stopped to face the room, backing away slowly as her squinted eyes darted from side to side. "I'm gonna go… do things."

"Well then, that's that." I smiled, turning my eyes upon Rickley, Leary, and Wilson, halfway into indulging in their pleasures.

——

In my meditations, I made a transition. A shift from light to dark. A change from the Creator to the Destroyer. An adaptation from the World Weaver to the Elven Devil.

Through the observations made in the following hours, I learned many things about the ruby-eyed creatures called Drow, who prayed to their Goddess, Lilith, the Queen Demon Spider. Drow monks and the highest-ranking clerics - high priestesses - were esteemed in that only they underwent intense training to grow accustomed to the many sounds, smells, lights, colors, and open skies of the surface. The other drow, however, were different. The majority had never come close to seeing Tiatus's light or the unending openness of the Mortal Plane's sky. Many of them had never even ascended beyond the Dark Sky to explore the bowels of the Underground. A daily cycle of light and darkness was a thing of myth to them. Stars were only heard of in legends. The concept of seasons did not compute. Thus, they cared not for the passage of time beyond three things.

The first was a 4-hour pause in the thunderous roar of the waterfall that happened roughly every 26 hours, marking the end of each day. Slaves across the cavern needlessly listened for the ensuing silence that probed every ear within the cavern, ready to send the appropriate messages to those in their house so the floodgates could close and the daily worship of the Queen Demon Spider could begin; for that was their only reprieve.

Second was the steady dip in the volume of rushing water over the Falls. It served as the minute and hour hands to the keen-eared drow. But to everyone else, it was nothing more than an oddity of the falls that gave Zimysta its name. An orchestra of constant noise to accent the endless chaos.

Last was the time it took one to train under a divine tree and eat the fruits of their labor; 13 months, understood across the realms to be one year. Of course, they counted those years in decades and centuries as well, but any other measurement was meaningless to the long-lived drow. Such was reflected in the endless nights of their cities; nights illuminated by biological processes and faerie flames rather than enchantments or torchlight.

The other learned thing was partially what had been written in the annals of fantasy. Drow were the silent, nocturnal, civilized apex predators of Youtera. Pessimistic, industrious, and pragmatic by nature, they were made to be militant and merciless by the harsh climate of their environment and became zealots by the influences of their Queen. At times, the negative radiation of the Darkworld mutated them beyond their light aversion. However, it was their goddess who truly made them sick and twisted; sadists, slavers, hedonists, and torturers.

Naturally, that was reflected in both their actions and their society. Brothels were a rarity, for there existed orgy houses that made BDSM dungeons look like smut lounges. General stores generally sold slaves, organs, body parts, exotic drugs, and the finest instruments of torture gold could buy. Robberies, muggings, and beatings were just as common as extortion, murder, and espionage. Even war was exceedingly common, if not exceptionally short-lived.

Just like on the surface - better than, even - these things went unseen, if only because they were 'hidden' beneath a veil of magical darkness. Like a tarantula on the hunt, such deeds were to be executed swiftly, leaving none the wiser of the culprit. Unlike the surface-dwellers, however, Lilith's drow saw no need to look for the cause of such mysterious deaths beyond it being the will of their goddess to cull the weak. Exactly the way their the Queen Demon Spider decreed. Chaos without purpose.

Now, however, a new player had entered the fray. A Drow God who, intentionally or not, could make the unseen seen, and make the supposed weak suitable for play in this ever-changing field.

***

Etan Za'Darmondiel.

***

"Tell me of the Destroyer's nature."

"Amun is-"

A stinging slap interrupted my answer. Delivered by the hand of my dearest mother, who saw fit to bring her scowl as close as she could to me as she seethed. "Do not say his name in blessed chambers."

With hands suspended in bleeding mithral webs, I could only nod and nod deeper as the weight of a dozen spiders fell on my head to skitter across my body, nipping away at my ears, nose, and lips.

"He is a reincarnated being with a perfect recall of his past life. A life of over a century and three decades, lived in a godless universe of no mana, inhabited only by humans. Even without magic, however, even being human, his kind started as wild prey and grew into the apex predators of their world, and then grew further into advanced beings who understood the very secrets of creation in only a few hundred thousand years. Much quicker than we of the Fae with our magic, but dissimilar in the sense that they learned the natural laws of their universe.

"Using that knowledge, they created tools of metal, wood, and stone, much like our arcane creations, to manipulate those laws and make their lives more efficient- easier; an art they called Engineering. Like enchantments to an artificer, the creations made by their grimy human hands they called technology. Machines, devices, and tools that could do the work of a thousand slaves in hours. Or the impossible, much like magic. Yet, they used this technology primarily for war against each other. Other things came from it, but most were invented for, because of, or by the effect of war. Much like the humans we see around and above us, they eternally warred with themselves, using this ever-advancing technology to cause more destruction than the strongest spells. They used it to destroy cities in the blink of an eye, exactly the same as that crossbow we witnessed in Shujen."

While he spiders continued skittering and nipping; biting and webbing, I kept my gilded eyes trained close on my mother's, shifting and turning from the force of disbelief clashing with realization. And so I continued. "Even then, that was only the beginning. Those humans used technology to extend the hand of death much further than any arrow or spell could hope to reach, crossing oceans and continents to fell entire nations in one fell swoop. Yet they could also use destroy nations without ever drawing blood, attacking through disease, attacking resources or economies; even ideals. So too did they use it to cheat death, extending their lifespans to live as long as we can. They used it to build nations in the void beyond their skies and to bury their secrets in places as deep as gray dwarven strongholds.

"One century and three decades, He spent in that universe. Then He chose to walk through the door of their Death, and he met Telin, the creator of our universe. He was then born in Maru as Telin's Champion, the God of this universe, tasked only with living freely as himself, if only so He may be judged to join Telin after this universe's end. And so, He began training, learning, and, in turn, teaching the moment he could.

"At five years old, he began martial training, much like myself, but with no teacher, for he used the martial knowledge of his previous life to train his new body, half-drow and half-Nox devil. When he later learned about the Mortal Plane and Telin's gates, he dedicated his efforts towards forming a guild. That guild, he decided, would be formed alongside an empire built around the technology of his universe, blended with the magic of ours. He succeeded in those endeavors before we ever laid eyes on him. He is the Guild Master - the Grand Master of the Legio Noctis, and the Eternal God-Emperor of Eotrom."

She believed herself satisfied with my confession. Yet my mother was but a spider who built her web in the gaps of a much larger spider's web; unknowing that the thick columns she anchored herself to, was made of decomposed granite whose collapse was overdue.

And so, I followed my nature and taught her.

"His mother was the most interesting thing he told me about. He told me of when she - Eved told him of Telin's Intervention. She told him of her tasks and asked him afterward, 'What is it that Telin's Champion seeks?'"

High Matron Etyl Za'Darmondiel ceased her pacing upon hearing the name. The spiders around my jaw skittered, and she blurred. Then the cracks echoed as my face was pulled to and fro.

"I now give his answer, verbatim," I hissed through mangled teeth, placating her enough to stop squeezing. Not that it bothered me. Not that it hindered me. For, above all of Amun's memories I witnessed, this was repeated the most. "'Knowledge.'"

I was amused on the inside, seeing the same reactions between our mothers; although that was expected, given their relation. Thus, I continued echoing the memory.

"'I have no wish to rule or conquer anything, if that's what you are asking. The guild and empire I'm planning to form is only a means to an end. A way for my friends and followers to live peaceful lives while I explore these realms and learn everything I can.'"

Knowing what was coming, I prepared early and managed to beat my mother at her own game. A cunning smirk rose from the corner of my lip moments before hers upturned into a scowl. "'And what if, when you have explored and learned, you dislike what you saw, and what you learned turned your face sour? What happens if you see only misery and misfortune throughout your days? What then?' His mother asked, most profoundly of all." I smiled wider at my mother, Etyl, High Matron of House Za'Darmondiel. Or rather, the Nonusian branch of House Za'Darmondiel.

"Continue." She demanded with the utmost calm; a calm belied by the slight tremor in her palm.

"'If and when I explore everything there is to explore, I will create a quiet place to call home and live out the rest of my days surrounded by my friends. If the latter comes true. Then, I will work to remake the realms around me into something a bit more exciting.'"

"Exciting?" Etyl recoiled in shocked trepidation, showing the opposite reaction to her counterpart.

"'Something entirely different. As such, I cannot exactly know. But it will be something that resets everything. Something that'll change the paradigm, or at least give me something else to spend a few lifetimes exploring. As I said, I have no wish to rule over anyone. Nor was I born into this universe to bring judgment on anyone, only to live freely. Thus, I will combine my knowledge and this universe's magic to birth an empire capable of granting people the freedom to live as they wish. I do not care what happens outside of that."

She remained silent for several moments, yet her fingers remained clenched around my jaw like a spider injecting venom into its prey. How auspicious that bout of silence was, however, for it made loud the waves of deep blue energy pouring through this hidden chamber, ignoring the crimson webs as it destroyed every cap, stalk, or mycelium thread my mother forced my sister to spread throughout the Falls.

Then, I continued.

"Had she asked just one more question, however, He would have told her what would become of those who sought to take freedom away from those he called his friends. So, perhaps you can ask him in her stead, dearest mother."