“Today is the day,” said Seneschal. He looked around at the others that sat at the table with him, and grinned.

There with him were Alister Kim, Queen Amorra ManaMonarch, Bernard Maelstrom, Caspian Coin, Chozen Lilith Crown,, her brothers, Orbit and Tartaria, and the youngest prince of the realm of Maelstrom, Alexander Archon. There were many other powerful figure heads at the table, but Seneschal felt them to be only partially valuable to the efforts of the war to come.

The individuals all conversed casually, and Seneschal found himself shocked at how well this organization of terrorists and HonorBorn nobles seemed to fit like misshapen puzzle pieces, forced to fit within the same boundaries.

After a while a woman strode into the room and was guided toward Alexander. The woman’s wide-eyed gaze let Seneschal know that the woman must have recognized some of the faces in the room and was astonished at the sight.

Finally she and the guards that escorted her stopped beside the prince and she leaned in to whisper. The words came to Seneschal’s ears as if they’d been spoken directly to him, making the demon’s brow raise.

“If I find a way, I’m going to kill you, you little brat, and that’s not all, I’m going to—“

Alexander cut the woman off with a raised hand. The young boy’s gesture powerful, making not only the princess he’d been talking to pause, but the woman who was speaking to as well.

“Waste any more of my time and you won’t have any more time to waste,” started Alexander, glaring at the woman beside him before he smiled back at Princess Chozen Crown.

“Have you finished what I needed of you?”

The woman nodded, and the prince’s smile deepened.

“Good, have the guards take you home, I will contact you soon with payment.”

“Payment, what kind of payment?”

Alexander just glared up at the woman, and Seneschal couldn’t help but chuckle at the grumbled response she returned as she was escorted out the room.

“Abduct me, and then threaten my life only to pay me in the end, must be true what they say about HonorBorn children all being crazy…”

Alexander’s gaze shifted to Seneschal’s from halfway down the long table and nodded, giving the demon the signal that their task was complete. The final piece of what the group needed to accomplish to take the realm of Maelstrom as a whole was enough that even Seneschal had begun to believe it to be potentially impossible, yet…

“If I may…”

Everyone in the room looked in his direction and Seneschal pressed his hands on the table in front of him, taking in the gazes of an incredible number of renowned individuals and began.

“I have good news,” continued Seneschal and all around fell silent.

“Our project is done and the final step of our plan can now begin.”

“That is amazing, I was beginning to believe that the goal we’d set forth was never going to come to pass,” said Alister Kim, giving Seneschal a supportive nod as he spoke.

“So… we can really do it now,” started Chozen. The princess of the foreign realm was more excited than many there, as her want for the plan to succeed was higher than many there.

“That would be amazing,” finished Amorra. The Queen and the princess beside her both had much to gain if the machine they’d developed worked, and Seneschal couldn’t help but smile as he nodded toward both of them.

“Yes, we will start with the realm layer first, and then begin the expansion to other realms soon,” responded Seneschal. The demon couldn’t hide his own excitement, slowly bringing his hands together. Though the gesture was performed at glacial speeds, the clap that emanated rang throughout the room.

“This will be the grandest spectacle anyone has ever witnessed,” said Seneschal. He looked at those gathered once more and pulled down the hood of his cowled jacket, letting his long black hair fall free.

His pure ivory horns came into existence like that of a stag’s own antlers. Normally hidden by the spacial pocket of his jackets hood, his horns made all around stare wide-eyed.

Though Seneschal’s voice sounded like that of a gruff old man, and his beard was as grey and white as any Sekt elder, his facial features were like that of a middle aged man in his prime. While his horns were as refined as an Ancient DragonKin male. The horns forming a crown around his head, both elegant and terrifying to take in.

Seneschal’s smile grew at the faces of those around him and he spread his arms wide.

“Soon, Cloud Lake, Ascension and the realm of Maelstrom will become one, and a new dawn will begin.”

It was then that Bernard lifted his glass and gestured all around, clinking glasses with the sneering Caspian.

“Cheers, to the dawn of a new age!”

…

Arson walked toward a burned section of the City of Palaces that he’d never seen before. Not even from the vantage point he’d visited the day he arrived.

It wasn’t until the moment he stood in front of the scorched ring that lined the perimeter of the massive library that he was even able to truly set his eyes on the home of tomes and knowledge.

He looked around and realized that if he wasn’t looking directly at the structure, he couldn’t see it at all. It wasn’t until Anastasia spoke up that he understood why.

“Look at the scorch marks.”

Arson gave the burn lines left in a circular pattern a second look, and was able to distinguish the runic patterns scorched into the ground. The tribal-like symbols somehow beautifully eccentric and chaotic in nature all at the same time.

“That seems…”

Arson didn’t know how to feel. He knew instinctually that if he didn’t have the library grounds as his absolute focus, that he would forget what the building looked like with every blink that he took. Even in the briefest moment that he glanced toward Light behind him, Arson had to struggle to return his eyes to the library.

It's no wonder that none within the city visits this place.

“You can’t seriously be headed in there!”

Arson chuckled at the flailing Light, the young elf wrapped in an ever tightening cage of draconic bones that Arson connected to one of his ChainArrows to make it easier to drag him through the streets of his home.

“Of course I am, Nightlight, why wouldn’t I?”

“Because it is a place where the strong go to die, a place where only truly horrific things lie, where even gods hide their secrets and mistakes. Just let me go and I will never bother you again, I will forget I even knew your name, as will time itself, I promise!”

Arson looked at his wrist then, and Anastasia’s widened eyes met Arson’s own before he felt an imperceptible shrug returned in response to his questioning gaze. Arson returned a shrug of his own and sighed heavily.

“I suppose you can wait outside for me right here, Nightlight, just be good and try and keep the screaming to a minimum.”

Arson fired the arrow Light was connected to, the arrow lodged itself deep into the marble of the perimeter wall at the top edge. Light screamed as Arson lightly kicked off the ground and drifted upward toward the upper ledge of the perimeter wall, stepping into the library grounds in two steps.

Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

“Come on, you can’t leave me here!”

Arson ignored the screams. His mind consumed by how light his steps were. He felt as if he could fly since he learned the movement technique during his recent training, losing himself in the freedom his new elusive skill gave him.

“You're so simple sometimes, you know that, right?”

Arson didn’t even look down to answer his watch, growing more excited by the sight of the seven towers that surrounded a skyscraper so tall that its top couldn’t be seen. The surrounding towers were like that of a staircase, each one taller than the last. The structures all connected by enclosed bridges that wrapped around the main building in a spiral.

“Simple how?”

“You are smiling like it's your birthday and you're about to try cake for the first time, and I don’t know if it's because there may be books in there for you to read, or if it's because you want to try and climb that bloody building that is filled with demons for all we know…”

“Am I really that transparent?”

“Yes.”

“Well, between you and me, it's both of those reasons exactly!”

…

“Son of a DemonSpawn…”

Stream cursed, and Camilla giggled as they approached the library.

“Your friend has an odd sense of humor, doesn’t he.”

Stream looked over at Light, who glared at him and Camilla.

“Let me down from here, now!”

Light kicked his feet frantically, trying to dislodge himself, and Stream did his best not to laugh, knowing that the situation was already bad enough. Yet, he couldn’t help himself.

The ridiculousness of the entire occurrence made Stream chuckle aloud, shaking his head slowly at the sight before him. Before Arson arrived the sight of Light being captured like a common criminal and hung from a wall would have been an absurdity, but now after spending time with the young Cultivator he was honestly more surprised that it hadn’t occurred sooner.

“Should we let him down,” Stream asked Camilla, but she shook her head before responding.

“No, we don’t have time... do you see how high up Arson is already?” Camila said with an almost completely vertical point upward toward the shortest of six towers around the main structure.

“Sparks, I didn’t even see him up there.” Stream focused, only truly able to see the pure white of Arson’s longbow draped across his back.

“Embers, that is cool, are you ever going to learn how to do that ArchersStep or whatever Arson called that movement skill?”

“Ha, why would I have to do something like that?”

“It would be nice right now, don’t you think? How are we going to get up there?”

Stream gave Camilla a shy smile and spread his arms wide, dropping his hands to his sides before looking away with a shrug.

“I know how I’m getting up there, I’m a giant,” said Stream underneath his breath.

“Don’t you even think about it,” started Camilla, but it was too late. She tried to lunge toward Stream, but he’d already jumped.

“I’ll be back, Cam. Help Light get down and go get my father!”

Stream was over the wall and bounding after Arson in two powerful leaps.

“It’s date night, you owe me, you brat!”

Stream couldn’t help but smirk. He had to push the thoughts of their date aside as he chased down his friend. Arson was closing in on an opened window that Stream hadn’t noticed before entering the grounds.

For a moment Stream wondered if he could either break the barricade made from planted TitanSteel trees in front of the massive front doors, or burn them down with the new weapon Arson had made for him, giving up on the idea once he watched Arson disappear inside.

He was up the few dozen long steps that led to the base of the trees in a handful of breaths and quickly began his climb. It wasn’t until Stream was half way up the trees and a third of the way toward his target that Stream was forced to acknowledge the feat of dexterity and strength that Arson must have used and be capable of to have climbed up the library so quickly.

“That fool is a bloody monster in a Cultivator’s vessel…”

As if the soul of reality itself wanted to agree with Stream, a roar was heard emanating from the interior of the library. The timeliness of the sound made Stream pause. Though he felt it was a ridiculous notion that his thought alone could trigger the event to occur, he still stayed frozen, waiting in silence for something, anything, to happen.

It was as he sighed in relief that he felt the tremble begin. A soft vibration that shook the entire City of Palaces and the jungles beyond its limits. Stream cursed as everything started to shake violently, making his upward climb shift from exhausting and subtly difficult, to incredibly dangerous.

“Son of a bloody demon… Arson!”

…

Across the trial planes held within the dimension created for all things forgotten, a group of entities began to rise from their slumbers.

Known as the Primes to those who descended from them, an awakening unlike any other since their imprisonment touched the minds of those connected to the original Reaper of all. A Cultivator unlike any before or after. The first immortal, also known as the King of the Void Sun.

Their sleep was said to be due to their lost connection to the most powerful entity to ever live and with that loss, came a new age. An age where the primordials could sleep unbothered by the demands of both the living and the dead.

However, those same Primes knew that a new dawn would come. A time where their return would be necessary to restore the balance that came with peace. As endless life for some, could only be sustained with the culling of keepers of wasted power and potential.

At first, came the awakening of the Seven Bodied Monarch. Their knowledge alone was enough to create realms, destroy entire universes of life, and even control the system that regulates Uni-Vare. The group sitting within their palace, and home said to be filled with all forgotten knowledge, all opened their eyes at once, and gasped.

Avatars of races even older than Elders and Ancients, all stood slowly, taking in their environment for the first instance since the dawn of time itself.

The group looked at one another, making sure that all of the members of the hive soul were there and returned from the DreamScape itself.

“The soul of Father is being reborn,” said the first Elf known as Maximo. His body rejuvenated itself from a state of skeletal proportions and an illustrious robe draped itself across his shoulders from thin air as his wings spread wide, a plume of gold and white feathers filled their frame.

“Indeed…” Maximo turned to see his brother Vigor rise to his feet. The giant orc’s own muscular form returning layer by layer as his muscles grew and grew, until his pure white skin reformed and again became fitted with black and gold armor. The material made from a metal only known by his son, the god of tinkering known as Metal.

“Where are we? This is not Endless,” asked a musical voice, and Maximo turned to see his sister, Union.

Her body formed yet still seemed ethereal. Her ghostly form as translucent and hard to capture with even an immortal eye, moved like mist unless she was speaking; which would cause the person beholding her to see the most beautiful figure their mind could imagine.

“It seems we are in a prison made for father, I can feel his armor nearby,” explained another. Maximo turned again to see his brother, Emperor. The horned demon stood and darkness wrapped itself around the monarch like an all black business suit, tailored to perfection. The demon’s gaze distant, his red eyes flaring with golden light momentarily as he peered through the walls of the palace they resided within.

“Should we not be greeted by one of the Icarian, only one of their blood should be able to bring forth a candidate for Father’s replacement…” The familiar tone of Maximo’s powerfully invigorated sister, Ambrosia spoke, her voice rippling through the room made flowers grow and the once prevalent garden around them all bloom. The mother of Eve and all mortal life, such as humans and the Demi gods known as Cultivators, couldn’t help but be concerned, as what she stated was true, and gave even the fearless Maximo pause.

Maximo didn’t enjoy seeing his sister this way. Her halo’s normally unrivaled light dimmed, only lighting the area around herself, making her pure white toga look immaculate even as she dusted herself off, frowning at the sight of her dusty attire.

“Something is wrong with the realms, I can feel the distortions of balance from here, Endless and Heaven are no longer one, and from what I can tell the Icarians are all but extinct.” All of the siblings looked over to see Aquarium float to her feet,. The Elemental queen folding her feet underneath herself to sit on a storm cloud that formed beneath her from thin air. Her form only distinguishable from the darkness around them all as the sight of galaxies and universes spun through the limits of her pure black body. The tone of her skin only equivalent to that of the night sky itself.

“Surely you jest, sister,” said Maximo, but what was spoken next confirmed it all for the siblings.

“She does not lie, brother, things are worse than we could have ever predicted. The laws of creation and destruction have been broken, the system of power has been rewritten, and the gods have begun to use our children, and even their own as nothing more than tools, or maybe even worse, as nothing more than batteries or simple food for their pets…”

Mimic lifted his head from a book, and turned to look toward Maximo. The Fey's entire form rippled and changed constantly. At any instant the king could seem to be related to any of the siblings there, almost as if he was all perceivable races that could be or ever would be.

The siblings all looked at one another at Mimic’s words, knowing that though he was the creator of the mortal lie, he himself could tell no lie. Once truth was held by the sin eater, the primordial could not stray from its boundaries.

Maximo nearly cursed, but an odd sound was heard. The entire group lifted their gazes to the far side of the throne room to see a youngling wearing a crown on his head reading a rather large tome that floated in front of him as he ate one of the apples grown in Ambrosia’s gardens.

“Hey Arson, I know that your closed eye dominion isn’t working currently, but…”

The woman’s voice came from the youngling’s wrist and he looked up to see the children of Reaper standing there. His eyes widened momentarily, before his brow furrowed, and he shrugged, waving at the group before he walked away. Maximo looked around at his siblings to see a plethora of various levels of confusion returned in his direction, then back to where the boy had just been.

“Was that our father’s journal in his hand,” asked Maximo.

“Yes,” responded Mimic.

“Are you telling me that we were woken by that weak Cultivator we just saw,?”

“Yes,” repeated Mimic.

“Why does he smell like that of an Icarian?”

“Because he is one,” said Aquarium.

“But…,” started Maximo, but nothing else came. The inventor of science and engineering as concepts struck stupid by the sight of a mixed blooded child whose very genes should be an impossibility. Maximo looked between his siblings, the entire group stunned to silence by the weight of their own thoughts.

“What?”