Irwyn sat on an elevated platform, breathing in the sickening divinity around him. Right behind him was Lucas Wisenose who was directing the entire event and there were a few other members of the Blackburg clergy situated on both his left and right. Irwyn had seen Brite being carried out of the door by a maid a few minutes, if he remembered correctly she was also one of the two he had seen back when he broke into Brite’s room. And Irwyn was about to also undergo the procedure which had knocked Brite unconscious.
“Is everything ready?” Lucas asked, looking around the room. It was highly ornamental with various golden decorations as well as various statues depicting a single beautiful woman. That was Etza, the deity that the Blackburg ancestor had cut a deal with. The Blackburg family would spread her influence through the lands they controlled and in return she would grant her grace and protection to those of his direct bloodline. The ancestor whom Irwyn hadn’t seen since his early youth was an awakened after-all, powerful enough to negotiate as an equal with a god.
“Then call the girl in and let’s begin,” Lucas nodded, beckoning with his hand toward the maid standing by the door. She carefully opened the door allowing Elizabeth to enter as the maid herself left, shutting the door behind her. Elizabeth was wearing rather unusual clothes, a heavily decorated ebony robe with haphazard golden engravings which seemingly lacked any deeper meaning or purpose. Despite being crafted on very short notice, the clothing was extraordinarily well made. Even Elizabeth’s accessories were unusual.
The rather ordinary armband bearing the Whisper regalia was still present, however, it was combined with other bracelets of identical shape either also ebony or golden, worn so that there were 4 on each of her hands, ordered to contrast with each other. Even her long hair was not spared as two knitted locks were going down either side of her head while her usually loose hair was fettered into a ponytail, bound by a golden hairpin. And lastly, a completely raven black small urn was carried in her hands, the single item which lacked the touch of decoration.
Overall, her young features sparkled a certain feeling of innocence engulfed within the opulent gold and solemn black. Whoever came up with the design definitely deserved praise, especially considering how little time there had been since Irwyn blindsided everyone by insisting Elizabeth would be the one to bring the urn for him.
She slowly stepped closer towards the platform, each of her steps carefully following a certain pattern. The amount of ceremony was needless and frankly annoying, however, Irwyn had concluded that it would still be faster to go along with it than to convert the priests and priestesses in the room to his opinion. Everyone remained utterly silent as Elizabeth trod her way towards Irwyn, taking minutes before she finally arrived just in front of the platform.
“Etza, oh, one with darkness,” Lucas finally exclaimed at that time. Raising his hands above his head. Despite his usually pragmatic approach, the man was still a priest. Most deities did not insist on blind faith unless it was fundamental to their doctrine.
“Etza, oh, one with darkness,” the rest of the clergy repeated like an echo. Irwyn found the procedure especially ridiculous since after Brite’s ceremony there was no point in summoning what was already present.
“A son of Blackburg blood has come to seek your guidance,” Lucas continued.
“May you grant him what he seeks,” the clergy deviated from repeating Lucas’ lines that time.
“Drink deep,” Lucas beckoned towards Elizabeth who on her cue bowed as low as she could, handing Irwyn the black urn, “And be embraced.”
Resisting to cringe at the undue respect given to the goddess, Irwyn took the urn and opened it, releasing a debilitating stench from within. Without hesitation, he brought it to his lips and swallowed the foul liquid in one gulp. The effects were almost immediate as an uncomfortable feeling spread through Irwyn’s body. The contents he had just swallowed were, in fact, a potent poison meant to temporarily dissolve the outermost defences of his soul so that something else could enter unhinged. Of course, with the strength of his soul, he merely felt slightly uncomfortable rather than instantly passing out like Brite had. As to not raise suspicion he naturally still collapsed as though his will slipped away and manually withdrew the defences of his soul which failed to dissolve under the mixture’s influence. And when he did that, he felt it encroach.
And so Irwyn set a lure and waited, careful as to not reveal what he truly was. The tiniest fragment of his soul, not larger than that of a common man, shone as a beacon while the rest hid in the candle’s shadow. Soon enough, the prey was caught. A piece of divine will entered, attempting to beckon Irwyn's own mind to follow.
When Irwyn allowed that, he suddenly found his consciousnesses manifest as a spectral body within his own soul. The landscape around him was dark, engulfed by a black impenetrable mist. Since he has cut off the vast majority of his soul it was not difficult for the other party to control the leftover bit.
"What is your name," a booming voice sounded from all directions. Irwyn clearly felt the intent to terrify him through sneer might. The divine presence was compelling him to bow down, to cover in fear and respect. However, there was no deity across all of existence that could make Irwyn do either.
"I have many names, abomination," Irwyn chuckled, reuniting the entirety of his soul. Instantly the tables turned as the ebony mist dispersed with a wave of Irwyn's hand, revealing the monstrosity hidden within. Once its cover was gone Irwyn could clearly see its form: Dozens of misplaced limbs of various sizes and decay, as though they were each ripped away from a different corpse. The husk of lacerated flesh that could be considered torso was not only horrifying by also covered with hundreds of eyes, few of which even appeared human.
As soon as the mist was gone it began to contort the limbs, twisting them in angles which should not even be possible and they rapidly shrunk. It did not take even three seconds before the miscreant's shape transformed completely, becoming a beautiful black-haired woman. Her appearance was the exact same as the statutes in the ritual room dedicated to the goddess Etza.
"What are you trying to achieve?" its expression twisted into a strange combination of a brilliant smile and a furious scowl. That did not surprise Irwyn, after all, gods had to manually manage the expressions of their illusionary bodies, often sticking mostly to 3 or 4 well-practised expressions. It was only natural that Etza would slip upon realising that this fragment of her consciousness was trapped within a seemingly impenetrable barrier.
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"Your submission," Irwyn smiled at the goddess, still feeling disgust in his heart. After necromancy and heresy against the aspects, deities would likely be the third thing Irwyn hated the most on the universe. They were nothing but vermin, not even supposed to exist in the first place. Roaches that were impossible to completely eradicate no matter how hard one tried.
"Ridiculous," the deity replied, "Even if you can overpower what I have brought her, it is nothing compared to my vast divine will."
"I am well aware of how tenacious your kind can be," Irwyn kept smiling, "That is why we have created a tool to keep the tumour you are from poisoning even more of the body."
"You are speaking nonsense," Etza replied, seemingly calm, however, Irwyn could feel her constantly trying to stealthily puncture through his soul and cry out for help.
But rather than bothering himself with such s thing, Irwyn closed his eyes and genuinely concentrated. What he was about to do was only possible because they were within his soul. If he attempted to utilise so much of his soul outside, it would likely result in his body bursting into a spray of guts and gore, assuming he even could stop the deity from fleeing or destroying his fragile mortal form before it was finished. His lips moved and a chant left from his throat:
Hereby I evoke the bargain,
primordial and eternal.
As the heir and signer,
the section most kernel.
Seemingly out of nowhere a blue flame suddenly manifested in front of Irwyn forming into letters of a long-forgotten language, typing out the words he spoke.
Etza, young among divine,
yet still not unbound,
shall follow my twine
which I now shall found.
Obey or disappear
are the terms I present.
Revoked be all appeal
until you relent.
When those words sounded Etza suddenly froze. She no doubt felt the strings set by Irwyn envelop her very form. Usually, Irwyn avoided using this specific magic, mostly because by the time his body could even properly withstand it he could just deal with the issues through brute force. The damage to the entire universe that overuse could cause was also not neglectable.
“What the hell have you done to me!?” Etza screamed, alarmed and perhaps genuinely terrified.
“Not much for history, are you?” Irwyn felt a certain degree of schadenfreude at her confusion, though he knew it would not last, “Then let me lecture you: What you had just witnessed was 11nth of the 11 high sorceries, the Primordial contract. A pact which had been made to dictate the order of our nascent universe right after its birth.”
“I signed no such contract!” Etza protested, losing her composure further.
“That is of no consequence,” Irwyn shook his head, “The contract has been made by 7 of the primordial kings, the 2 sons of Ignis and the High divine. As a goddess of darkness, your divine form is fettered by the seal of your greatest predecessor while your dark magic is bound by both the Void emperor and Ignis Umbra. After all, very few are exempt from obeying the will of those who guard the very essence of their power.”
“I am going to struggle even against these chains,” Etza insisted, though her tangible emotions were already weakening, “I have worked centuries to be where I am now. Struggled and bled. I will not let you take it away.”
“You seem to have misunderstood to what I have bound you,” Irwyn once again shook his head, “The Contract does not compel your will. It merely listens to my conditions and punishes you for not obeying them. In our case, if you ever disobey me, the contract will make it so you cease to exist. A quick and inevitable death. You already felt the seed of that ending take root in every fibre of your being and that is not limited to the fragment you had sent here,” that time around Etza did not retort. She became strangely silent.
“Despite my dislike for your kind, there is one thing I can appreciate about you,” Irwyn smiled, “You are all so acutely aware of how finite death is for you and it terrifies you without exception. You all who live like a monster without a soul. Well, even less than a monster as those were at least created with a purpose unlike your kind, divine abominations,” Irwyn stared at the form of Etza. Her strange expression was not a reliable source of information, however, the fluctuations of her being were. Etza was flustered and furious but those emotions were receding rapidly. As a God, her will was not entirely her own, it was deeply affected, if not dictated, by those who supplied her with their faith. Any signs of personal will besides self-preservation and related fears rarely lasted more than moments.
“So, what do you want me to do,” Etza finally relented. Any fury gone, leaving behind only a fully pragmatic will.
“I know not to push you too far,” Irwyn nodded and assured her. But more importantly, he had to consider his own unfortunately damaged body when casting the spell, thus the binding was not quite as firm as he had lead Etza to believe. In the end, all Gods were still awakened and If he pushed her to do something directly going against her sense of self-preservation it was not impossible that she could break free, “Not long in the future I will be leaving the North and thus your domain. I have only a few commands for you to abide while I am gone for the next few years. First of all, you will never intentionally do anything that you think would do me harm nor will you intentionally forget my commands. Second, you will not process any information pertaining to my weaknesses or the origin of my soul. Third, you will keep, and if I so desire, share with me any information about the inner schemes within the Blackburg family. Particularly, of Avys von Blackburg through your priest Lucas Wisenose. And last of all, you are never going to retell what happened here nor will you convey or record it anywhere besides your own memories.”
“That is all?” Etza said, though her expression did not manage to properly express surprise.
“Your domain is also the domain of the Blackburg family,” Irwyn replied, “They are far more effective at dealing with things than any of your priests. Had it not been for that involuntary traditional ritual I wouldn’t have bothered binding you. Simply put, I currently have no acute need for your help, rather, I wish to be left to my own devices.”
“Since I have no choice I will do as you say,” Etza nodded, “If you would allow me, I will take my leave and relay this to the rest of my being. If this sensation you had made me feel spread there, it is going to cause confusion.”
“Go right ahead,” Irwyn beckoned and the way parted. It was his soul keeping the goddess caged there in the first place, “I hope that the next time I return I will have no reason to speak with you again.”
Etza’s form then dispersed, vanishing like dust. Irwyn’s eyes shifted over and the patch where she stood was incinerated as special care was taken to make sure not even a smithereens of her remained. Now that the Goddess was gone, Irwyn allowed his expression to twist into a needless frown as a way to relieve his frustration. After all, Gods were the third thing he hated the most in the entire universe, preceded only by heresy against the aspects and Necromancy. In the past, he had often wished to slaughter them. To obliterate and scour them from the very reality. Unfortunately, precedence was quite clear: The untimely death of a God only ever lead to another being born the next morning to take its place.
With a foul taste in his mouth, Irwyn eventually closed his eyes. He had been knocked out long enough. And if everything went according to plan, he had things to do right after he woke up. With that in mind, his will slipped away and the world around dispersed.