"The planet is dying, and we must work together to prevent it!" Agamemnon declared.

Cian's eyes swept across a sea of faces to catch the audience's reaction. They all sat on three different elevated platforms; each platform represented a nation and held its dignitaries discussing amongst themselves. He had worked tirelessly visiting and pleading with influential individuals so that this hearing could even be held in the first place. This had to be their wake-up call or else the safety of his tribe was in peril. Getting the surrounding nations to do something about the crisis had proven impossible for his father Tamu, the previous chief of the Ar’awn tribe. The three surrounding nations rarely cared about the Wasteland. They saw it as a convenient natural border, and none of them thought highly of the people living there. It only took a famine in the human kingdom, dying trees in the elven forest, and mana drying up in the demon lands for them to take his tribe's warning seriously.

"The people are still reluctant," Cian concluded. They needed a bigger push for their cause or else the council of the three nations wouldn't decide to act. He looked over at Agamemnon who didn't look nervous at all. The prince seemed to rather enjoy the attention of the stunned audience seated above him.

It was initially supposed to be Cian who would have stood in the center of the room instead of leaning against the wall at the back. However, he was not as trusting as his father and had since young understood that these people saw him as primitive. It was the reason they all sat on their platforms above, to signify that they sat at a height of power, and would push you down if you tried climbing up. In the same way someone's neck would hurt looking up at them for too long, they wouldn't spend too much time looking down either. Cian had to give them a reason to fix their gaze down below, onto someone they saw as an equal. That is why he had the human prince Agamemnon speak for him. So far it is going well.

"This is all lies," an elf said, interpreting for the representative from the elven forest; they all spoke in the human kingdom's language Trecionian since they were the ones to ask for a council to be held. "It is just a coincidence. If anything, I believe this lowly tribe are the ones who are the cause by spreading some curse."

If Cian remembered correctly this was Faenor, a part of the elven leadership and the oldest of the moon elves. The idea of his tribe being the cause of the disasters was something he had heard a million times over since he was born. Especially from elves since they got sick easily and detested the thought of his tribe living close to the elven forest. Luckily, he had made some preparations.

"I knew someone would say that. That is why I, Agamemnon son of his majesty Gerald Trecoin, had commissioned some proof." Agamemnon signaled to his assistants, and mages projected a huge illusion for the entire council to see.

Cian had managed to persuade Agamemnon to commission scholars to recreate two maps of the region. One from detailed expeditions 20 years ago, and one made a month ago with the help of the Ar’awn tribe. The difference was obvious for even a toddler to see. The wasteland was expanding.

"The dwarves have also encountered their very own disaster as you may have heard," Agamemnon continued. "They found mineral veins where the ores had merged to a weird black mass."

The old dwarf standing beside Cian walked forward. "What he is saying is true!" The attention shifted to the dwarf and he bowed towards them in response. Agamemnon looked at Dwargon with annoyance, but allowed him to speak. "Members of this council, I am Dwargon, a representative from the Miners Guild. I have already handed in a means of confirming my identity to the guards. We dwarves have never encountered something like this before." The magical projection changed to show a cave holding an iron ore vein, but with an eerie black area covering the middle. Several of the dignitaries leaned forward trying to comprehend what they were looking at. "The black mass is indestructible and devours whatever it comes in contact with. The good news is that it seems like it cannot devour everything equally as fast, but the bad news is that it devours nearby ore veins at a superior speed."

"Are you sure?" The human king Gerald asked. "The great mountains where the dwarves reside lie on the other side of the planet!"

Dwargon nodded. "I am afraid so, your majesty. As I speak, our crown prince Helanor is on his way to the demon lands for an audience."

The human king looked at the demon king who nodded in response. "I have gotten words of his visit, and he should be here in a matter of months." She said through her interpreter.

From that confirmation, the whole room burst into conversations. They were finally taking this seriously. The dignitaries were talking to each other with much more fervor, and some even mouthed questions to dignitaries from other nations. The demon king silently observed the panicked crowd, including her own retinue, and then continued speaking.

"However." The room immediately fell silent. "I do not believe this is something to panic about. I still believe if our nation's best mages work together they might find some spell to stop this curse on our planet." She nodded to Dwargon and also threw a glance at Cian. "We have to agree to do something. I have also gotten some correspondence from the dragons. There seems to be something wrong with the lava the dragon king takes his baths in. It is as if something is blocking the flow of magma from the earth's core, which I presume must be this black mass."

"The dragon king!"

The human king glared at his entourage for making noise but looked at the demon king. "That monster is a maniac who would kill us all if he wished. I do agree with your reasoning that we should work together. Speaking further would not be productive, so I propose that we create a joint team of our best mages and end the session here."

Cian walked forward. "If you would allow me to speak."

The human king examined him. "You are the chief of that tribe who lived in the wastelands are you not? You may speak."

Cian bowed. "Thank you for the opportunity. I would like to propose an expedition into the caverns below the Wasteland. As the chief, I have expert knowledge of every place in the wastelands and would be the perfect candidate to act as a guide. I believe the problem is the Immortals that my father warned you all about when he was chief."

Faenor scoffed. "Immortals? Some humans call us elves immortal since we live much longer than them. But the truth is that immortality is a myth."

"I agree," Cian said, confusing Faenor. "But I think it would be believable enough that some beings are the cause of it all, especially if you read the record from the previous expeditions that made the three nations seal off the entrance."

The demon king raised her hand. "If so, would not opening the seal be a risk? Some mage mage has to be the cause of this. Sending another expedition would be a waste of resources."

"I would say not doing it would be more of a risk, and a foolish mistake on your part." His direct response seemed to have caught her off guard. It was a risky move to confront the demon king so directly, but Cian had done his research. Demons do not care about race but rank each other based on power. The demon queen Nyx had a reputation for being stern but caring for her people. He needed to show strength and hint at the importance of her supporting him if she wanted to look out for her people. "I do not disagree with king Gerald's idea of having the best mages work together to stop this … curse. But my people have been warning of the Wasteland growing for decades now. It would be unwise to not take our words into consideration. You may close off the entrance until we return to the surface, but I do believe sending a new expedition would be valuable. If no immortals are found and my tribe were proven wrong, we could nevertheless come back with valuable knowledge that may be of help."

People in the council looked around at each other and continued discussing. Everyone standing on the floor were ordered to leave the room so that the council could converse in private. Outside the massive doors to the room, Cian closed his eyes and pleaded to the gods that they would agree. He had to get revenge for his people, and he had to get his older sister back from the Immortals. It was his only reason left to live.

After a moment of discussion, they were let back into the room. "The assembly has accepted the creation of a joint team of mages to undo the curse. As for allowing another expedition, the leaders of the three nations will come to a conclusion in a private meeting at a later date."

*

"You did great, chief!" Siora told him. "By the grace of the gods they will find reason."

Cian sat on the floor hunched back from the stress. Why couldn't they have given their response now? He couldn't bear the wait and feared how he would respond to a denial.

Dalin nodded. "She’s right, Cian. At least they agreed to give our people refuge since living in the Wasteland is impossible now. And you know, don’t beat yourself up over what happened to Tephi. It has been 5 years, and—."

Siora glared at him to shut up and looked ready to challenge him to a duel at that very moment. But Cian stood up before she could cause a ruckus. "I understand what you mean, Dalin. Don’t worry, as the chief I will do the best for the tribe. Let's just go back to the others after I have thanked the prince."

They were getting annoyed glances from the people walking past them since they were sitting on the floor. The hallway was huge so Cian did not understand why they minded. The land was everyone's home, but he guessed this was another example of a difference in culture. Cian noted to himself to revisit the bookstore; he has to continue his research on the three nations' practices in order to properly carry out his role.

Just like Dalin said he was able to provide a place to live for the Ar’awn tribe, but it wasn’t anything fancy. Only a small plot of land between the demon lands and the human kingdom. The land was the only route of invading the other, which had happened in the past, so both nations benefited from the arrangement. Cian couldn't deny that another war between these two nations wouldn't happen in the future either. There is no doubt that this wasn't the perfect location for a permanent settlement. The land is still technically a part of the Wasteland, but happens to be slightly less affected by the abnormalities since a river separated it from the greater Wasteland. If the Wasteland expanded yet again, and they got no more help, their only choice would be to settle in one of the nearby nations.

Cian knew assimilating with the surrounding nations would be difficult. Demon society only cared about strength, but after years of struggles, most of his people focused on survivability rather than their fighting prowess. The tribe's most skilled fighters had died with his father when the Immortals decided to thin them down. The human kingdom would not accept them since many of his tribe's people were mixed race, and of course, the elves would not accept anything other than their own kind. Cian had no idea what he was supposed to do. It was his sister who was trained to become the chief, not him.

Cian took a deep breath in, and then breathed out. He couldn’t afford to give up. The whole tribe was his responsibility.

"Chieftain, you did not have to wait for me." Agamemnon said.

Cian bowed. "It was nothing, your highness. I simply wanted to express my gratitude for your help. It means a lot for our humble tribe." Cian knew by now that he had to act the part for him to be taken seriously. Agamemnon helped him so far, but who knew for how long?

"I spoke to my father and the representative of the other races. They will come to an agreement about allowing a new expedition in a week. I will have a messenger sent to your place when they come to a decision."

Cian put his hand on his chest. "I appreciate your support. Defeating the Immortals is of high importance for me."

Agamemnon waved dismissively. "That may be. But if I may speak truthfully to you, I have to agree with the demon king's proposition. Some mad mage must have used a spell in the wastelands that caused this phenomenon. With the expertise of the great mages of my kingdom, the curse can easily be lifted after some time. The mages did tell me that the longer and more extreme a curse is, the easier it is to learn its structure and weaknesses. That is why my brothers use small detailed curses against me, and it is always such a bother."

Cian did not really care since he already knew all of this, but he still nodded along.

"Also," Agamemnon said hesitantly. "I do understand that people like yourselves have their own customs, but you should accept that those Immortals that your tribe believes in must be myths. Time will teach you I presume."

"Thank you for your suggestion, your highness." Cian made sure to hold back Dalin and Siora, and said his farewells to the prince.

When the prince had left the hallway Dalin spoke. "How could you let him talk to you like that? He was acting like we didn't know anything."

Cian sighed. "We have to be in the prince's good graces to survive. I have told you that several times already. Also, weren’t you the one that dismissed the idea of going after the Immortals moments ago?"

Dalin fixed his gaze on the ground. "I did not mean it like that."

Of course, Cian knew that, but he couldn’t argue with the fact that his obsession with getting revenge could affect what was left of his tribe. Was Agamemnon right that his tribe's knowledge was superstition? He could still remember seeing the Immortals kidnap his older sister Tephi, but had he actually hallucinated for some other reason? Cian wasn’t sure, yet he knew somehow that he was doing the right thing. If he was wrong, he would find the proof of it eventually.

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

*

Cian told the others that he wanted to go for a walk, and told them to go prepare for their departure. Father would always take him on short trips around the Wasteland whenever Cian was stressed. The wind clashed with his face, and the warm weather of the wasteland made him feel free. Then there would be no one else around as far as the eye could see, it was only them. His father hadn't been perfect, but he did try his best to cheer Cian up. After his fathers death, Cian had grown a habit of walking around to relieve his mind of stress, but every time he knew it wouldn’t help. Walking alone isn't the same.

The council building was near the border of the human kingdom close to the elven forest. It was a building in the middle of nowhere with a massive glass dome. The human kingdom had created an exquisite garden that anyone could stroll in to discreetly insult the elves. The garden was full of flowers and trees from the human kingdom sorted in traditional elven styles. They thought the elves would feel insulted, having their culture reduced to an aesthetic, but the plan backfires when the elves thought they had managed to make the savage humans more proper. They even donated a single tree from the elven forest to the garden. Something that is a very big deal since elves hate when something of theirs is lost to the outside. Over time the garden became the main attraction of the three nations council, and some dignitaries would even plead to tag along on a council session just to have the opportunity to take a stroll in this garden. None of them knew which tree it was of course — the elves made sure of that. The comfortable earthy smell in close proximity to the wasteland, for the demons and humans not used to the level of vegetation in the dense elven forest it was an oddity to be appreciated. Although, Cian always understood it as the people appreciating the peace their three nations sought for. Peace is readily appreciated, but not easily preserved.

He looked at a tree as he walked around it. Living in the Wasteland had made him adept at noticing something out of the ordinary. The lonely elven tree looked like any other tree, but it was the bright blue lines racing across its bark that gave it away; elven trees are containers of spiritual magic and this tree looked like it was filled to the brim with it.

Along his walk he had noticed someone he did not know walking towards him. Cian had talked to a lot of nobles, but he did not prefer to converse with them for unnecessary reasons. He tried to look at the tree and look busy, pretending to be an uncivilized savage scared of most nobles, but this one did not mind.

"Like noticing a grain of gold in the middle of a dessert. Beautiful isn't it?"

"You know what it is?" Cian asked, impressed.

"My father has told me a great deal about his expeditions, so naturally I have picked up a trick or two. Most would believe elven trees only can be found in the elven forest, but they are also an abundance in the deceased fairy queens domain – what's left of her domain at least."

Cian guessed this wasn't any normal noblewoman. She certainly had the aura of one, but she was dressed as if she was going on an expedition. Thick long pants for the cold, solid raven boots, a coat that could easily be taken off if it got too warm, and a belt with some gadgets around her waist. An experienced adventurer.

She nodded at him. "You must be Cian, the chief of the Ar’awn tribe?"

"Yes, that is me. You are?"

She laughed. "Sorry, I forgot to introduce myself. I am Valery, the daughter of the great adventurer Raul. He was the last one to venture into the caverns below the wastelands."

Raul. Cian remembered his father talking about an adventurer days before he died. Apparently, he had ignored the tribe's warning and ventured with his crew into the Abyss, which was what his tribe called the home of the Immortals. In the end, he was the only one to return alive, and with his influence, he managed to persuade the three nations to have the entrance sealed off with the strongest magic available.

"My father wrote a journal when he explored the caverns about the Immortals. No one believed him but he still kept his notes. I could try and pressure the council to allow a new expedition, but only if you allow me to be a part of it."

Cian had no idea how she would manage to do that, but he had no reason to not accept her offer. "I accept. Let’s defeat the immortals together then."

Valery beamed. "You’re confident. Aren’t you scared? What reason do you have to go so far when you still have your own life to protect."

He looked her in the eyes. "I need to find my older sister. She was kidnapped by the Immortals 5 months ago. I know that is a long time, but I at least want to find out what happened to her."

"That is … unfortunate. But you could still choose to live your own life. Don’t you have your tribe to lead?"

Cian did want to protect his tribe, but he knew he wasn’t the perfect chief. "I will have someone else take over if I die. Immortal or not, I will have my revenge."

"Getting revenge is a good motivation and all. However, there are no records even in my father's notes on how to defeat one."

He grinned. "Anything is possible."

Valery looked confused but gave a nod in agreement. "I guess you’re right. How to kill an Immortal, sounds like an interesting tale to tell."

*

"Hasn’t Sir Raul been acting a bit strange since this morning?"

The other maid hushed her. "What if he hears you?"

Raul ignored them and continued pacing around the mansion. The journal was gone, and that could only mean one thing: he wasn’t of use anymore. Ever since the expedition 10 years ago, he decided to settle down in the countryside to live a quiet life. He thought it would make him more relaxed, but the nightmares never ended.

He slammed the doors to his study open and hurried over to his desk, grabbed an ink pen and some parchment, and began writing. This was not going to be the end of the world's greatest adventurer Raul.

In my early twenties I had found the secret tomb of the first human emperor, the first high elves' bow, and even ruins of an old civilization no scholar knew about. My reputation preceded me and I found myself known as ‘the world's best adventurer’. I loved the prestige and the joy of exploring the unknown. However, the honest truth is that I did not reach this place from my own hard work. It was with the help of Master.

I first met Master in the orphanage I grew up in when I was five. He was a priest who visited the orphanage in his free time and had especially grown interested in me. He told me all manner of things about the world. About where I could find lost items that any adventurer dreamt of and encouraged me to become an adventurer. At that time, Master was my only friend since the other children constantly bullied me, so I listened to him. I promised him that I would always keep my trust in him. Becoming an adventurer became my life goal.

When I was seven years old, a revolt against the church took place when people found out about their corruption. Master died for the first time that day. The next day a younger four-year-old girl in my orphanage came to me and told me she was Master. This child knew all the things I had told Master and spoke like him too. Her voice was monotone and her eyes fixated on my every move. At that time I thought it was a blessing from God. God wanted me to become an adventurer.

Master never spoke much, but when they did they always said the same thing. "Do not dare betray me."

At the time I did not find it strange. Master never told me to keep their existence a secret. If it was because they did not care or thought nobody would believe me if I told them, I do not know. But I still kept Master's inability to die a secret.

When I became an adult at sixteen years old, I left the orphanage and pursued my career as an adventurer. Just like Master told me I found these missing items and became known as a young prodigy. Master always followed me, and they never died. When the little girl died of disease while we were exploring the jungle, Master came back after a couple of days as a middle-aged woman. Another time they came back as a middle-aged man. Master went with me on my adventures and never cared if they died, because they would always be able to come back to me. Eventually, I told Master that it would be suspicious if all my partners always died, so they settled for a teenage boy.

I still thought Master was my only friend, but over time I found other friends. Eventually, I had a crew of people I adventured with. They cared about me, and I cared about them. That was how I realized something was weird about Master. I did not feel that Master cared about me. They were always fixated on me doing expeditions, but never told me what they ultimately were after. Every time they answered it was a God's hidden will.

Everything changed during an expedition to the Nevermore forest, the deceased fairy queen's domain. We were looking for the missing tiara of dreams left by a fairy when Melissa fell from a cliff; Nevermore forest was famous for having a massive unstable crater in the middle. She managed to hold onto a branch, but Master refused to help her. If anything they seemed annoyed that this was stalling their mission. I managed to rescue Melissa and then argued with Master. They did not care what I thought. That was when I realized they were just using me. I wanted to be free so I told them to leave me alone and pushed them off the cliff.

Master did not come back to me after that. After some years of living in constant paranoia of Master's return, I eventually managed to calm down. Master was gone, I thought. I fell in love with Melissa and we had our daughter Valery. I was thinking about stopping adventuring to live with my daughter while she grew up, but Melissa was the one who persuaded me to go on one last adventure. Me and my crew had received a hefty commission from the queen of the far eastern nation of Kohn. It was for exploring a certain underground cavern in the middle of the wastelands. By that time I knew about the wasteland, but I didn’t think it was anything important there since Master had never mentioned it. I didn’t know what a queen of a nation on the other side of the planet wanted from the wastelands, but I decided to oblige. The request was only to survey the cavern and not proceed in battle.

When we got close to the entrance we encountered the local Ar’awn tribe. We managed to arrange for them to watch our horses. Their chief warned me from entering, but I did not listen. In hindsight he said something that saved my life: 'if you are in a red room then you can kill the Immortal'. I was arrogant and did not believe anything they said about the Immortals, so I continued.

The caverns were weird. It was like a staircase around a huge hole in the center as if something had fallen down to the core of the earth. The place did not look like it was naturally created. Eventually, we reached a cavern that split into eight different directions. I was foolish and decided that we all split up. I thought we would all see each other again. I thought this was going to be easy.

Together with my wife and two of my other friends, Tim and Haley, we went into one of the caves. Eventually, we arrived at a red room. It had straight walls formed as a cube as if it was man-made. Venturing onwards we saw something that no one on the surface believed me about. It was a small settlement underground. There were people of all races living there. Some of them wore weird white masks and covered every part of their skin. Melissa said we should talk to the people here, but when I spotted them walking around with Jeremy’s corpse on a pole, I told everyone to hurry back.

Tim made some noise and the people noticed us. We ran back to the red room. The people who followed us stopped at the entrance to the red room. They blew a horn and our exit was blocked off by a stone wall. They also threw four of my other friends into the room.

Everything took a turn for the worse when Tim stabbed Haley. Then Jake. Before he could kill someone else Mark killed him, but then Mark began killing the others. I screamed for them to stop but they didn’t. When it was only Mark, Melissa, and me, that was when I realized my stupidity.

"You shouldn’t have betrayed me." Then he started to laugh.

That was when I realized this wasn’t Mark, it was Master. That gaze, that laugh, I hated it. I was scared. I didn’t know what to do. That was when I remembered the words of the tribe chief: if you are in a red room then you can kill the immortal.

I killed Mark.

But after he died Melissa laughed, and I cried. Master would only die if everyone else died. She had HIS GAZE and laughed at the same time. I KNEW IT WASN'T HER.

That is why I killed the love of my life. I butchered Melissa to death to make sure that she would die. The whole time Melissa, no master, did not cry. I only heard laughter.

When it was done the stone blocking the exit disappeared. I didn't dare look at the onlooker's expressions and ran out of there. I did not want to think about what had happened. When I came out of the cavern in blood, I screamed at the tribal people to guard the entrance and galloped away with my horse. I went straight to the king whom I knew personally and pleaded with him on my knees to persuade the other nations to block off the entrance. I refused to go back home until he had done it, pleading the whole time on my knees. Luckily, the council met some days after and the king was able to fulfill my request. I received my commission money since I had completed the expedition. The queen did not ask for my journal with the notes, she had died on the day of my expedition. After that, I headed back home.

I DID NOT DESERVE TO LIVE.

But approaching my mansion I tried to keep myself together. I had killed Master, an Immortal, in the red room. There should be some truth to the knowledge of tribal people, so they were dead. Melissa wouldn’t want me to go mad, and I needed to be a good dad to Valery. Yes, I had Valery, and she was the only light in my dark dark world.

When the carriage arrived at the mansion she was waiting for me at the entrance. I ran up to her, but then I stopped. My daughter, my precious daughter, why was she laughing?

According to a maid she had heard something funny and couldn't stop laughing. My daughter was normal after that, but since that day I was never able to look at her the same way. What if she was Master? Or what if someone else in the mansion was Master? Just in case I

Raul looked at his writing, there was blood all over it. He raised his head to see what could only be described as a monster. It was a beast that came out from a crack in her body. Its skin was purple but with flickering light as if it would disappear from reality any second. Looking at the beast Raul felt weak, insignificant. The monster was unreal, but sheared itself into his mind making sure he could never forget it. Flickering multicolored patterns traversed its skin in chaotic complexity, but conversed near the human part in a strange harmony.

"You shouldn’t have betrayed me," Valery said.

*

Valery sighed. Why did this mortal have to be so useless? She thought her investment had paid off when he got so far into the Immortals hideout, but he had to mess up. After all of that, he had the audacity to seal off the entrance! Did he have any idea how much of a bother acting like a child was? Don't forget the useless new emotions she had to deal with and having to fake this bubbly attitude.

She held her neck and tried straightening her back. Changing to her true form always gave her such pain when she returned to human form. She kicked his corpse, making even more blood splatter around the room. "This is all your fault."

Her mission needed to be completed before the worldeater absorbed the entire planet and any potential future vessels for her to survive in. She thought she had to live as an adventurer for years, or even worse, try to cheer up this deadweight to go on one last expedition to avenge his wife or something. But those Immortals proved to be as arrogant as ever. They always made fun of her kind for hiding themselves all the time, but we do it to keep every situation in our favor. By revealing themselves they sparked a fire of vengeance in that boy Cian. And if she had learned anything in her years of interacting with lower species, vengeance was the easiest emotion to manipulate – and the most dangerous.

She crouched down and patted what was left of her dead father's head. "To think that you thought I was an Immortal. Congratulations. Holding in the urge to kill you was the greatest challenge of my existence."

Her next greatest challenge was getting a promotion. The Immortals were conquering far more planets than her kind, and it was unarguable that the war between the two strongest species in the universe had reached a stalemate. If she managed to retrieve what that runaway Immortal had stolen, then she would be able to turn the tide of the war, and maybe even receive a gift from Mother. But killing an Immortal was always so much work.

The journal was still in her satchel and she opened it to skim through it again. According to his notes and what she had gathered herself, there are seven Immortals from six different houses in total. Six houses meant six different interpretations of immortality. As powerful as she was, that was going to be a lot of work to deal with. However—.

Someone screamed, and Valery looked behind to see that one of the maids had opened the door. Valery began crying and fell to the floor. "Daddy isn’t moving!"

Whatever was going to happen in the future, she would manipulate it in her favor. Manipulation was after all the specialty of her kind. She battled the urge to start laughing. "That boy Cian was speaking the truth: anything is possible. That is the reason why playing with lower species is always so fun."