‘The Hermit’ stood next to Alicia. It was no longer the man she used to trust, merely a function, a mission personified, if it can even be called a person.
Alicia was bleeding in every orifice, every piece of flesh boiling in a flameless conflagration. She was draped in artifacts that healed her, knit her skin, supplied her body with what it needed, yet it seemed to do nothing for her.
Every hour she was awake she would pluck her eyes and shatter her ears in an attempt to disorient her from her senses, but even in the lightlessness of her mind the flame still flickers. She hasn’t rested. She has spent every moment living through all futures that she could.
A moment she spent three different lifetimes in her visions, then another that made it twelve, then another that made it thirty, then another gave her a hundred more lives. This went on for days. Her mind was slowly breaking and she remembered the eons she spent in another time. Each one she burned and each one a flame that moved sideways in each vision followed her. If she would run away to another future, it merely burned the one next to it.
This was agony. Something she was once proud of overcoming with her fortitude. But now she is there, living a billion, billion lives and changing none of them.
So she prays. She holds her friend close as she asked for anything, anyone to save what she has spent years accruing, what she spent so much protecting. She holds on to the mans robes in a desperately sad attempt at comfort.
So she lays on the floor, skin flayed and boiled, eyes plucked and regrowing, ears pierced by her hairpin, sobbing with the one she called family in her arms.
But it was not her friend.
It used to be the body of Lomias, the hermit, the nameless. It still uses that name with no shape, merely as a mask and nothing more. It has no name, so it could take whichever it could. Just like the thing was before.
It had the power to take anything from anyone. It was the sacrifice it obtained. The price for a wish that will be fulfilled, regardless of cost.
Lomias is not what he was before and he never will be again. He is no longer a thing bound to a name, now a function imposed to the world. Lomias is not a name anymore but a temporary descriptor of a functional operation that is made to perform a mission.
“Please let her be safe”
A wish to curse him into an immutable thing at the cost of a name. It could be considered a God, only in a sense that it is a phenomena that can never be stripped. But it has no will but the one given to it now.
He has usurped the god within himself and now he is no longer alive. It would be simple to call what happened to him as death, it would be too simple to call that he is now in oblivion, yet no other words may describe what he did to himself. He is now anathema, akin to a color that can never be described, a foreign mathematical function that cannot be put to reason. A logic, a pattern bent into blasphemy.
The closest thing that could ever describe him now would be an ‘imaginary number’, one so foreign that it is different to anything existing, yet calling it the opposite would also be incorrect. He has usurped the god within him, and now he is dead. A death could not fully describe the tragedy he did to himself, yet that is all that is left. Nameless and bound to a promise, he is no longer here.
It has usurped the god within him, and now he is dead.
It was in her room watching her weep and shiver. It was emotionless, uncaring, made to perform a function and nothing more. It has morphed it’s body language and face into concern. It has warped it’s own soul signals to emulate the feeling of distress. But only because the girl would harm herself if it did not do so. It’s calculations demand it to, and so shall it be.
“Alicia, please speak to me, tell me what’s wrong?!” It says in the voice of what used to be Lomias.
The girl shivers. “I don’t know what to do Lomias. Everywhere i look, in every future, it’s all flames. It’s as if every future bleeds into the next. As if everything, the threads of fate, the things that allowed me to guide others are burning. Their burning and I don’t know what to do.” She hugs the thing that’s shaped like a man.
“Look, please look. I cannot bear this any longer. You can temporarily strip me of my power yes? You are the hermit, the nameless! PLEASE JUST TAKE IT FOR A NIGHT! Take it please it is much to heavy for me now.” She cried as countless lifetimes of mindless agony took her.
“It’s okay, it’s okay everything will be okay.” The thing voiced that made concern apparent. It stroked her hair in a way that would comfort the girl. Then he reached in and plucked her sight.
The room shook as a great blasphemy has occurred. The thing took her vision of the future and the girl lost consciousness. It followed it’s calculations and it did them well. Now she was asleep, and she will sleep a bit longer tonight.
The light twisted around the thing and the girl. Dimensions collapsed and shape ceased to have borders.
It enacts it’s plan.
It sees what the girl saw and follows. It follows the shape that the steps leave behind and it calculates.
It steals the space between space, and steals the time lost from the moments that pass. And it forms it into the shape of a circle. A symbol that pulls and changes causality. A ritual.
Just like it’s calculations said.
It shall call the Demon Gods for assistance. One of the very few futures where the girl does not burn and that she would be safe. Somehow the girl omitted many choices that would yield it the possibility of survival. If the thing was alive, it would have called her foolish.
But it wasn’t, so it did not matter, and it did not care, and it did not think to care.
The world resonated and hummed a sorrowful song. A song of anguish, sorrow, and tragedy filled the air. The music of sin. Then everything stopped. Stopped time, within stopped time, within stopped time. Only stillness became reality, they were in the land between reality and unreality, the very border where the gods of sin still had influence in.
One by one, seven voids of color formed around itself and the girl and danced. Orbs danced as if those spheres reveled in the taste of life and agony. One them promised destruction, a sacrifice, a horror that shows devotion. Another that feared nothing as it blinded the world in it’s light, as if it knew all would gravitate around it. A pale one that kept collapsing in on itself as it yearned for more. One reached out to the world, grasping at the air that refused to touch it. One promised safety as it spun in place, always faintly promising ruin as it felt the stillness of the world. One pulsed and simply stared at it and judged with a grudge of it’s own. Then a faint one so small that it seemed starved and malicious, as if it held a hunger so potent it could swallow the world in its indulgence.
The demon Gods, the calamity that shall befall all and the key to bringing safety to the girl.
Then voices that sounded like a million crying, begging, screaming tongues that sung a song in it’s elegant demise. The voices would have broken the girl and the man the thing’s shape was based upon. But it is not the man, and it is not a thing, it simply isn’t, and it listens.
“Aberration, filth, daemon, thing why do you call upon us so? Where has a thing like you stolen our names from? Let us go, lest we sunder your lands and grant you the succor of desire and see if this mission of yours still matters.”
A voice that sounded so pained, that sounded so hungry screamed soundlessly. But a new voice spoke. It held the kindness of sleep and the desire for repose.
“Hello friend would you perhaps let us go? We mean you no harm. We are friend yes? So let us free and you shall be given a gift. One of our own make, how does that sound.”
--Negative. Pact requested. Protection.--
“Foolish beast! How dare you speak to us with your shape! How dare you keep us here! I would burn you if not for my patience!”
The third voice spoke a blinding song of gold and glory.
“Brother-sister stop. It want’s something. Something that only we can give it. We hold all the cards here. It wants something. Why not hear it out?”
You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
The fourth spoke like a dream beyond perception, a desire that brought pain.
“Sister-brother it’s kind cannot be trusted. It does not want what is natural. It does not want the way we want things. It has it’s terms and nothing more.”
The fifth spoke with age and childishness. It spoke of the temporary and the divine. It spoke of agreements and throats.
“Yet it wants something. It is still a child. Does it want purchase in our lands? Does it want footing in the worlds denied by it by the rat? I can feel that it does albeit in a warped way. It still does so, beyond all this drivel.”
speak
The sixth voice spoke with such pain that it promised only that. Yet a pain that comforts. It spoke of history and blood, stories and sorrow. It was quiet, but everyone listened.
--Request extraction. Trade future for another.--
“Hahaha what could you possibly give us child-thing! That girl there barely has enough god-blood to quench our lips. And you don’t have anything we need. Why would we go through all that effort for this child? I say we simply take her and strip this thing of it’s shape, it’s parts, and it’s mission.”
The seventh voice doubted. The voice hated the it even if it had no name or no shape of it’s own. Yet it felt the yearning it held. It pulled ‘the hermit’s’ body and flattened it to the ground.
It’s form bleeding. It’s form bent and torn as the seventh shined it’s unearthly glow.
The different voices spun. Amused at the scene of violence transpiring before it.
It would be smashed and torn to shreds as the very un-concepts that formed it would merely be a meal for the seven things that reveled in it’s destruction.
--Freedom. Seven. Whole. Play.--
--Game. Variable. Unseen. Leaves shape.--
It stopped. The arms that bent it out of shape stopped.
“How amusing it thinks there is a way? Then why can we not see it? It’s merely biding time. Knowing it’s kind, it probably spewed out these falsehoods in an effort to confuse us. I say we destroy this thing and be on our way”
“But does it not sound tantalizing dear sibling? Maybe we should see if it fulfills it’s end just this once.”
“Falsehoods! Lies! SCUM! Let me feast on it and tear it’s shape apart!”
“Oh but is it not exciting. If it tells the truth, then the game continues. But if it doesn’t, then chaos...”
A brief silence filled the air as the seven figures observed the man shaped thing
Then they listened.
continue
--Lich located. Proposal. Help. Request. Trade.--
“You? Help us? How laughable, honestly i should rend you where you stand!”
A pressure filled the room as the dimensions cracked and bent by the anger of the demon god. The voice has suffered an insult, a grave insult, and so it will correct this by destroying this filth of an object.
“You have angered me beast! You have angered me greatly!”
--Appease.--
It’s body was smashed and it’s limbs bleeding. The girl it held slipped from it’s arms and felt as if the weight of the world collapsed on it.
--Forgiveness.--
The thing felt a name flood it for the first time. A purpose beyond a command. A shackle that bound it. It it felt the very first emotion since it’s birth.
Fear.
--Damage cannot be sustained.--
Quickly it asked for forgiveness, for reprieve, for mercy at it’s transgressions. It feared the name given to it.
--Forgiveness.--
--Repentance.--
Sibling stop! We must try to listen to it. It may have made a simple mistake yes? How else could it have known anything more? It is merely a child.
The world repaired itself and shifted back to place, just as easily as it cascaded to chaos a moment ago.
“Hmph, be grateful childling. Choose your words, lest I make you exist and fill you with a name.”
The time inside faltered for a moment and the seven figures burned their gaze upon the thing. And they smiled. As if the word excited them to no end.
“This thing says the truth.”
“Amusing, very amusing. What say you eldest? They helped you have they not. Will you betray them?”
....
“So the eldest is faltering, ha! Fine, I agree to your demands daemon.”
“I agree with sibling. If we take it then we can play.”
“Me too. There is amusement in such a play.”
“Do i even have a choice? Fine daemon. If you betray us, then I will ensoul you and see that you suffer.”
“I shall remain neutral.”
“I will not accept help from such a thing. No, I will not assist this endeavor of yours, dear siblings. What say you eldest?”
no i will not
“Then it is settled we shall assist you daemon. Four out of three. How did you locate him then? Ever since that death goddess meddled in our plans we haven’t seen the lich or it’s allies. And it only got harder when that life bitch put her hand in. If you want our help, then tell us this. How did you find him?”
--Shape.--
--All leave shape.--
It was changing. It was warping a name. And it was scared. Nevertheless it must follow it’s mission. Keep her safe. This was the only way.
--The absence of something leaves emptiness where it touches. Emptiness has shape.--
A moment passed before a low ominous laugh filled the air.
“Ha..hahahaha..oh how amusing. How amusing indeed this thing might prove useful dear siblings. I propose that we threaten this girls life and use this thing. It’s mission is related to her safety, how obvious can it be. It want’s us to capture it. I don’t know what you are planning daemon, but this will provide us entertainment.
“I vote to play to this things tune. Hear that daemon hahaha do not disappoint us.”
Agree
“I agree”
“Hmph, fine”
“Alright then, why not”
“I vote to do so dear siblings”
“Yes, it’s been so long that we had this much work. Hear that beast, you should be honored that we would keep you. I may not agree with the other’s on your supposed ‘help’, but your presence is amusing. Very well then, I agree.”
The thing predicted this. So it all falls within calculations.
Seven terrible voices spoke in unison, blending their million voices into billions more. It was as if the whole noosphere was given a way to talk to it. The thoughts of countless lives crashing down on it as it resonated in it’s ears. It’s flesh was melting and it’s shape was failing.
Just as predicted.
:::YOU ARE BOUND TO US NOW DAEMON. WE OWN THE GIRL NOW, BUT NOT ALL OF US WILL HELP YOU LEAVE:::
The air charged with plausibility and joy as four of the seven gods focused on it. Four voices still as potent and as all of them combined. Malice and ecstasy coalescing into a perverted form of enlightenment.
Three of the four disappeared and only four remained. They might have been called by it, but nothing locked them in place. What would normally be impossible to escape by many, was merely childsplay to these beings who only deigned to give it attention out of amusement.
And so it continued. Just as planned.
::WE AGREE TO YOUR DEMANDS. SAFETY OF THE GIRL, FOR THE LOCATION OF THE LICH. YOU SHALL BE OUR CONDUIT IN THE PHYSICAL REALM WHERE OUR SONG SHALL BE SUNG::
--Affirmation. Accept proposal. --
The four voices filled the infinite darkness inside the thing and it became the gate to realspace.
It agreed to be the conduit
The Gods spun and coalesced, laughing at the tragedy they were about to commit. Four hands overlapped reality and took a part of her word, her essence, one that was attached to her being but not her soul. The word was snapped into five, one taken by each of them, and the other burried by it.
The girl screamed as if loosing an integral part of her, loosing the very memory, mind, and story that binds her to the idea of her. She was ‘the moon’, the bloodied child of tragedy, the diviner of the dark, and she was no longer those things. She was just a braindead girl, trapped in the prison of flesh.
::WE GIVE YOU A PIECE OF HER, FILTH. WE WILL WATCH AS YOU FAIL YOUR MISSION. WE WILL WATCH AS YOU HIDE HER FROM YOUR CRIMES. WE GIFT YOU GUILT AND SIN, THE VERY SHAPE YOU LACK NAMELESS BEING.::
The dimensions revert back and unwarp around the thing. The broken floorboards returned, unblemished by the presence of the malefic beings, glass shards floated back and returned to their position, and the damage dealt to it’s shape becomes nothing. No bleeding, no bent limbs, and no wounds seeping out. Only the figure of a man clutching a sleeping girl.
The girl, no, Alicia was catatonic, just as predicted. It has stripped Alicia of the word that gives her foresight, her mind, and it hid the word beneath the shape it possesses. Swallowing the girl in darkness.
She will dream forever and it will do as it was ordered, keep her safe.
The plan commences.
Two figures run into the room, one pulled the space around it to simply appear and the second moved through all matter and barriers as if it meant nothing, Temperance and the Chariot.
“Lomias! What happened, we felt the presence of several Gods in the crossroads then it just vanished. Are you alright? What happened to Alicia?!” The Chariot spoke, panicking. He moved to see if Alicia was fine, placing his hand along the charred, slimy, pus-filled skin of the girl and tried to use his ability to directly move his lifeforce through her soul only to find that she was brain-dead.
“Jupiter, there’s something wrong. She’s not there, she’s not there, her soul is present but she’s not there!” The chariot stumbled, he tried to sense her brainwaves as he moved his mind through hers only to find an empty shell. “She’s in a coma!”
“It was the demon gods! They mentioned the lich!” The thing lied.
Jupiter was silent. He looked at the thing unerringly, then placed a hand on the one pretending to be Lomias. Jupiter flashed the symbol of the Magnum opus, commanding the universe, real and unreal, to bend to it’s perfection.
Jupiter moved the thing past chronology in an attempt to find out if it was the traitor. Jupiter moved the thing back to see if the actions it had done would show falsehoods. It began walking backwards, talking backwards, acting as if time was flowing back. It let Jupiter do this, after all it was neither real or unreal.
Jupiter tried to read the synaptic pulses, trying to decrypt the thoughts and stimuli it’s brain had. Jupiter was scanning it’s soul, something unattached to the daemon. Jupiter did the same to the dust, the particles, and the fluctuations around the room. If he was still Lomias, it would have divulged everything. It would have shown all it’s falsehoods in perfect clarity.
It would not work however, since it was no longer Lomias, merely a shadow, a parasite that was taking it’s shape. It mimicked everything it needed to fool the virtue with ease.
Jupiter took a slow breath and calmed down.
“Night, I want you to bring everyone here now! Even if we’re all incomplete, the meeting will happen tomorrow. Gather everyone you can.”
Jupiter grimaced.
“We’re going to war.”
It will keep her safe.