Seconds later, Aurelian staggered backward when he appeared, instead, in a field of grass, and felt his back hit something solid. He turned, and his eyes widened upon seeing the very same tree he remembered from the first time he had arrived in the Realms. A white oak-like trunk with platinum-golden whorls of runic inscription, and the soothing energy of something heard just beyond the audible spectrum.
“It is beautiful, is it not?” the same calm voice asked, while Aurelian spun to face it.
A woman with silvery hair the colour of spun starlight stood before him, attired in a simple white blouse and black pencil skirt, with no shoes to speak of and her hair’s great length tied up into a high ponytail. Her features were beautiful in a way that seemed ageless, and when she spoke her voice was whisper-quiet and yet perfectly detectable.
“The world shard you hail from, I believe it has myths of this. Yggdrasil, yes?”
“The world tree…?” Aurelian asked in bemused confusion while glancing back at the tree. “I mean it’s prevalent in Norse mythology, but what—?”
“Yes. The World Tree. An apt bleed from here to there. Upon its boughs and its surrounds are the Nine Worlds, and at its roots nibbles the great dragon Níðhöggr. Each of its three great roots goes to the heavens’ well of Urðarbrunnr, the spring of Hvergelmir, and the well of Mímisbrunnr.”
“Yeah…” Aurelian agreed warily. “I really didn’t pay that much attention to mythology.”
“I find it fascinating, you see, that you Nephilim come from so many and such vastly different locales, and yet in all of them are kernels of reflection; some immense, and some miniscule. Your worldshards are very interesting to me.”
“Thanks, I gu—?” Aurelian’s eyes narrowed, and he felt Dragon’s Resolve flair for the first time in what felt like an age. She wasn’t going to lull him into a conversation about mythology.
“Hold on a minute, lady.” he said with raised hands. “Just who the fuck are you, and what is going on here?” Aurelian delivered the question more aggressively than was perhaps wise, but he certainly felt entitled to the suspicion. It was not often that one was abducted by strange, too-beautiful women that seemed to have a connection to a multi-dimensional System.
“I am known as the Arbiter,” the woman replied with a little smile, “but you may call me Selenia.”
“Selenia…?”
His mind latched onto a memory when he repeated the name.
> “That is where it becomes interesting. You remember I said that Shadow is reviled by the Godsworn?”
>
> “Yes…?”
>
> “Shadow was the Dominion of Selenia. Solarius’ twin sister.”
>
> “So why is it—?”
>
> “You asked who called the Calamity.”
>
> “Wait, a goddess did?!”
>
> “Yes. Purportedly Selenia grew… weary of her brother and their kin, and regretted the damage they had done to the Realms. She passed on the ritual of the Calling to her followers, and bade them to act in her stead. They very evidently complied.”
>
> “So Solarius, what… killed her?”
>
> “Worse. He drained her of power and used the Influence of the other Eight to imprison her in the Prime Material where she could languish, watching over those she betrayed her own kind to protect.”
>
> “Where is—?”
>
> “She is the Moon,” Tarixi said gravely.
“I see you recall the Echo’s lessons.” Selenia said with a small smile.
“Yeah she was pretty thorough with—hey, don’t change the subject, lady! You’re a goddess! You’re the fucking moon!”
“In all the ways that matter, yes, I suppose I am. I am not precisely the physical aspect of the moon per se, but my power and manifestation are certainly shackled by its mass.”
“But… but I saw you chained in—!”
“The Void. Yes. You saw a reflection of my Cognitive Manifestation in the Void. That representation is the great majority of my power. In this form you see before you, I am both far more and far, far less.”
Aurelian held up his hands again, and paced when he did; brushing his right hand through his shoulder-length platinum hair while his mind raced.
“Okay first of all, why am I so… so comfortable? So calm?”
“That would be the song.”
“The what?” he asked with confusion.
Selenia stepped toward the tree and lightly tapped its bark with the back of her forefinger, and smiled at him wryly. “The song. It is heard across every Realm, every dimension, and every universe. It is the collective chorus of every Soul, in every reality. Even the ones where the System is not actively in play, like your own.”
“Hippie wind chimes.”
“The System is not a Naaru, Aurelian.”
“How the fuck do you—nevermind.” Aurelian waved his hands. “Look, I’m sorry for being rude, but this is crazy. You realise this is crazy, right? I mean you’re… you’re the moon, the System is, what, a tree? A Norse ashwood or something? And I’m… dead? Alive? Having an astral out of body experience?”
“The System is part of everything, Aurelian,” Selenia said while lifting her hands to touch a green leaf hanging off of one of the tree’s lowest branches. “It is the cumulative will of Soulforce,” she smiled at him. “Yes, including yours. It is the union of life across every multiversal and dimensional level. Simply because there is no contact, does not mean there is no exposure.”
“So it’s God?”
“Not in the way you might define it, no,” she said with a demure shake of her head. “The System is cause and effect. It is choice and consequence, equal and opposite reactions. It is the mathematical and metaphysical pseudo-omnipresent underscoring architecture of all existence, and the provisioner of all laws that guide the shaping of what is.”
The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
“So it’s not Sapient?”
“The System’s will, or Intent, is a matter of existence. It wishes to exist, so it nurtures that which aids its goals. You, me, and all other life forms are accounted for within that grand multiversal calculus. The System cannot create Soulforce, but it can refine it. Much like trees emit oxygen in return for carbon dioxide, the System emits its own power in exchange for Soulforce.”
“But the System gives us Soulforce,” Aurelian said with a confused glance at his HUD.
“No Aurelian, your Soulforce is unique to you, and it produces a soundless vibration—a song, if you will—which the System interprets as nourishment, draws into itself, and refines. Mana is the pure distillation of that empyrean power. Soulforce is fed into the System by the chorus of all realities, and in return it purifies, refines, and feeds that back to you as System Mana.”
“That’s… okay. So what the hell are the Realms then? Why the levelling system? Why is everything computational jargon?”
“Everyone interprets the System differently. All I can tell you is that the System’s point of origination was here, in the Prime Material. Where you come from is something called a Worldshard. It is no less real than the Realms—and is technically part of the Realms at large, despite not being categorised as such.”
Aurelian blinked at her with mild consternation, but didn’t interrupt.
Selenia continued with a smile, as if she knew he was having trouble understanding.
“Your particular Worldshard something like a creation of desiccated osmosis. Your Universe is bereft of mana, because it is woefully lacking in Soulforce. There is too much where you are. Too much matter, and too few souls. The Realms within the Prime Material are… contained. To your mind it may seem empty, but that is a simplistic view.”
“So instead of space and galaxies you have… what… the Void?” he guessed.
“Yes. It is the space between Realms. I can no more explain to you why the Prime Material formed this way than I can explain to you the reason all creatures have Soulforce. Perhaps there was another architect. Perhaps the System changed it. I do not know. Nobody does.”
Aurelian turned to the tree and, after a hesitant moment, placed his hand on it. “I bet the System knows.”
“That is quite possible.” Selenia agreed. “The Tree represents its reality. The Multiverse hangs from its branches like fruit, and within each is the contained force of an entire reality of existence. The Realms are… different. Above and below. The main source that feeds its roots.”
“I feel like I should be having an existential meltdown…”
“I felt the same, at first, when I became the Arbiter, and learned the System’s song. It is a lot. But you will abide. You will learn to understand.”
“You keep talking about music,” Aurelian said slowly, “is that—?”
“No. There are no frequencies to be hacked into and abused. All plant life sings, Aurelian. It is merely a subsonic or below-capacity vibration that normal creatures cannot hear. The System is no different, save that you occasionally parse the signal it emits as tangible audio input based upon your limited comprehension of its data bursts. In truth, the sounds you hear are no more real than your presence here.”
“That’s… right then,” he cleared his throat. “How long… how long have I been—?”
“Exactly one microsecond has passed since your consciousness was pulled into the Aether.” Selenia replied with the same quiet smile and placid tone. “Your distress and confusion are understandable, but I would caution you to try to control yourself. We are rather short on time.”
“One mic—Jesus Christ.”
“Time is meaningless here.”
“That’s helpful,” he mumbled.
“But we are short on it regardless.”
Time was meaningless, but they were short on time? Aurelian’s head throbbed immediately.
“Okay, ignoring the contradiction in those words, what does that mean?” Aurelian asked wearily.
“That we must be about our purpose. Or at least, I must. I brought you here to offer you some advice, a warning, and a gift in that order Aurelian.”
He nodded for her to continue.
“First and foremost, I was bade to tell you to remember that while many may pretend to accolades or power, there is no true might in anything but true might itself. You are the Reclaimer. You are the Calamity. All else is misdirection.”
“That’s… helpful I guess,” he said slowly.
“Next, the warning: you have skirted the rules, admittedly through ignorance, and your actions have had grave consequences. Several saplings—that is to say, Local Nodes—of the System have been overwhelmed by the paradoxes you have brought within your short week in the Realms. You are warned, strongly, to not make that a habit.”
Aurelian frowned thoughtfully.
“You mean my weird glitches are—?”
“Malfunctioning Nodes, yes. You have accidentally killed several of them, and while the System does not view them as other creatures few genuine offspring, it is still less than thrilled at the loss of them.”
“Okay. Sure.” Aurelian said with a glance at the large tree, and then a look back at the Goddess. “That’s fair, I guess.”
“You were very nearly torn apart on the foundational level several times.” Selenia continued gravely. “It was only my intercession that spared you, and I must say that the System does not enjoy it when there are exceptions to its rules. I trust you understand?”
“Loud and clear,” he responded with another wary look at the tree. “And the gift?”
“A simple message: Elysea was not the first. Find the source, and you find the truth.”
“That’s it?” Aurelian asked incredulously. “I don't—”
“We are nearly out of time, Aurelian. Do you accept these three offerings?”
“I… yeah, sure, but I have so many questions about—”
“Nothing is literal. Everything is metaphor. One day, Nephilim, we will meet in the Prime Material or another of the Realms, and you will at last grant me the freedom I desire, upon the edge of Calamity’s Blade. My siblings and I have done terrible things, and I wish you well in your fight against them. It will be neither easy, nor absent grief.”
“I… thanks?”
“You are welcome.” Selenia said with a genuine smile. “However, there is a rub with all of this,” she continued with a hint of apology.
“Of course there is.” Aurelian muttered.
“You will remember nothing of this, and have no indication it ever occurred.”
Aurelian stared at her for a minute, and then snorted.
“So what was the fucking point?”
She didn’t seem bothered by his outburst in the slightest when she replied.
“Action and consequence. I chose to intercede, and the consequence is that you will lose your memory of that intercession… or at least, your conscious memory. You have proven aptly driven to trust your gut, Aurelian. I suggest you maintain that pattern.”
“If I can’t remember this, how can I tell myself to remember—?”
Selenia stepped forward and, before Aurelian could react, pressed her soft lips to his.
He froze, and before he could even think about maybe kissing back the ludicrously beautiful goddess, she released him.
“Trust the Shadows, Aurelian. For all my siblings’ conniving, they have ever served me… and in time, they will serve you. If you find me, I will restore your memories.”
“On the… the Moon?” he asked in a daze while his fingers touched his lips.
She tasted like honey.
“No. Yes. Sort of. You will understand, I hope, when it comes time.”
Aurelian’s confusion only deepened at the stereotypically melodramatic statement, and he blinked when he felt her fingers touching his chest. “Trust your gut,” she said again while her silver eyes met his, “and remember who you are.”
Aurelian opened his mouth to speak, but with a smile that he might have even called sad, or perhaps longing; Selenia pressed against his chest.
He was ejected into darkness with the force of a railgun.
Everything faded away.
[https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/1137945382404489267/1202586991817134131/Selenia.png?ex=65cdff69&is=65bb8a69&hm=27a7181be01b8eabfc73d4ae5639d64b91d1e6b631c9403326431ceffe6c55ea&]
Selenia concept art.