Anise lets go of me, her face is still red. She wipes the tears from her face.

“My god is more like half a god."

She says.

“Twenty or Thirty thousand years ago, and following the first war of man. Psymon the god of knowledge came upon a dilemma. He was a god of all knowledge, and was known as the revealer of secrets due to the fact that he was known for consistently doing just that. He believed that knowledge was to be shared throughout all peoples. However the first war of man shook his core.

He had seen the knowledge that the races had cultivated, and studied suddenly used aggressively against each other. His internal conflict was so great, that he split into two parts.

Helon a god who believed all knowledge should be shared equally, and that the morality of the user should curb the use of such things.

Her counterpart was Volen, a malicious god who hoards knowledge, and secrets to his own benefit. Using any means necessary to grow in power.

While Helons scholars shared and embraced magic and technology, becoming a patron god of wizards, and advancement. The cult of Volen seduced those in position of influence with the promise of even greater power, blackmailed librarians, and practiced profane rituals.

Thousands of years pass, Volen has long since left the council of gods, and his followers are long gone. All think him dead, suddenly a fire breaks out in the citadel of infinite knowledge. The magical enchantments that are meant to protect the books, are consumed by the flame fueling it further. Assassins kill Helons greatest, and most knowledgeable clerics, grand archmages, and even a few of Helons host of angels.

Helon taking this as a declaration of war ordered her followers to strike back at Volen. What followed is known as war of the libraries. Volen was crafty however, and he had spent the years since his disappearance growing in power. Hiding his weaknesses with subterfuge.

Helon was furious, Volen was nowhere to be found, and not a single scrap of knowledge on him anywhere. Any tome on him was uselessly outdated, or contained falsified information. Helon ordered her second in command, a deity and former angel named Honesty to curse all creatures to only speak the truth.

In retaliation Volen sent a beast of his own creation called Silence to kill Honesty. Silence was made of the bodies of dead gods, and angels from the first war of man. Honesty was slain with a swift hand, and Helon wept in return.

Where Honesty fell from the heavens became the land of truth where no one may speak a lie. Helons tears touched Silence, granting it sentience. Silence looked at the carnage in it’s wake and in shame vanished. Volen was not idle, and during the funerary rights for Honesty he personally wounded Helon. Using a dagger carved from the bone of a god he struck her in the back. She was expecting some form of attack and mortally wounded him.

On his deathbed he used the magical items, and his knowledge to become undead, the first lich. That served to only twist his personality further.

Ever since Helon and Volen have been at war. While the war of the libraries is over they still “skirmish”. While Helon had a large number of followers, Volens followers are almost five to one in terms of power.”

Anise pauses for a moment.

“Then there are the Red order, the Grey cross, and the Cult of Psy. The Red order is a branch of Helon that pursues knowledge at any cost, and then subtly shares their results so they are not found out. The Grey cross is a group of defectors from Volen, that hoard secrets they deem to evil, or powerful for people to know. Finally the Cult of Psy, they want to unite the Volen, and Helon back into Psymon.”

She rubs a mark on her arm. An eye, with the lids stretched open.

“The Red order abducted my mom. They were trying some ritual, I think to try, and make a lich. Well my mom was pregnant with me at the time. The poison they pumped into her killed me in her womb, but my body continued to grow. When she finally died, I came out crying. They took to carving symbols in me, believing me to be an incarnation of Velon. Both dead and alive. I don’t even heal from positive energy, just negative like an undead.”

She smiles sadly tears in her eyes.

“I guess they were kinda right, he has always been in my head. Telling me what to do, pushing me further and further. The Geas/Quest was the first time he did something forcefully exerting his will on me.”

I stroke her head.

“You're not alone.”

It’s still night out.

“Get some rest, I’ll watch over you. Us broken things have to stick together.”

She smiles weakly, and grabs my hand.

“Thanks,”

Anise whispers. I give her a smile. I blow out the candle, and roll out a blanket. I sit down, and begin to focus. I hadn’t had time to do this while on the road. That blank space, it was a hint. Something Waylax was telling me to do. I just knew it. It not so many words, but…

I centered myself, and grabbed at the space. Trying to feel it around me. It continued to slip through my fingers, briefly flickering behind my closed eyes. I focused on the feel of the room around me, how had it changed when I went to the white room.

I felt the hairs on my spine crawl up my back, and all my hair stood on end. A low ringing went through my ears. It felt wrong being here the air, the ground, even the voices it all felt wrong. Was that it? I was somewhere else, not my home world or plane. The space was different. I had felt oddly uneasy since I first came here. Was this the reason, I wasn’t on my home plane?

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I focused on that feeling of unease, forcing myself to feel it more, and more. Suddenly I no longer felt it.

I could no longer focus on that feeling anymore.

The white room had felt…. The opposite, like I was safe. Sitting at home, and just nodding off. Warm and fuzzy, like after a good meal when you get drowsy. I tapped into that warm feeling.

I felt an immediate response my heart beat slowed, my muscles relaxed, and I unconsciously released a breath I hadn’t known I was holding. My eyelids flutter open, and I find myself sitting in that white space once more. Alone now however. I didn’t know exactly why I needed to come here, but I did. I stand up, and look around. I’ve done it I guess, not sure exactly what I’m supposed to do now.

“Go web!”

I shout hoping for something to happen.

“Shazam, abracadabra, open sesame, make my monster grow, let it rip, Plus Ultra, excelsior, Pikachu I choose you, I bless the rains down in Africa, it was me DIO.”

Nothing happens. I stomp my foot in frustration. Something had to work, was this even magic though? Maybe I was Psionic. I press my fingers to my temple, and concentrate. Trying to feel some invisible force. I just wind up making myself light headed. I let out the breath I’d been holding, and breathe heavily. No Psion for me then. I wouldn’t bring myself so low to start cultivating so I was at an impasse. I didn’t want to devote myself to any gods, or devils right now so cleric was out. I wasn’t edgy enough to be a warlock, despite my tragic backstory. Bard had potential but I wasn’t slutty, or roguish enough for that.

“Hey uhh look like you need some help.”

I spin around to the voice. A large insectile headed creature looked at me. It wears a dark blue corduroy suit, and a bow tie. Fedora is placed haphazardly on it’s head. It picked something from between it’s large mandibles and flicked it with a dull metallic hand.

“Who the fuck are you?”

The thing lifts it’s other hand, in surprise and points a long tentacle wreathed in shadow at itself.

“Huh me? Oh I’m just the guy who has made sure nobody has ascended to godhood (or demi-godhood) for the last couple thousand years. You looked like you needed some help, not often dragons can get to soul space so quickly.”

He looks around using a third hand made of vines and leaves to scratch where his chin would be.

“It’s pretty big too. Anyway… like I said you looked like you needed help.”

A large spider abdomen. extends from the back of its suit, and it reclines backwards. Four arms extend from holes that cover the back end of the abdomen haphazardly, it pulls a piece of thread from it’s spinneret and begins weaving.

“You never answered my question. Who are you, like a name.”

I reply, crossing my arms.

“Well if you said my name I would disappear wouldn’t I.”

It pulls back it’s mandibles in what I assume is a smile.

“You’re a smart lad you’ll figure it out of that I’m sure. Now about that help… Before I can give it I need a small favor.”

He raises his metallic hand, and puts his pointer and thumb very slightly apart. I let out a sigh.

“It’s nothing you wouldn’t do anyway, but transactions deity to mortal, even a dragon, need some form of exchange. Them's the rules, ain’t nothing I can do about it.”

He finishes weaving a large sack that ripples with rainbow hues. A fifth hand emerges from one of the holes, and up ends a slightly smaller bag. Tiny white balls fall, into the large sack.

“So,”

I say.

“What do you want mysterious chaotic deity?”

He folds his hands together.

“Well I have a vested interest in your friend Cleric, I had to pull in a number of favors with various fate altering deities to make sure that the little event you had came to fruition. Now, now before you go all murder happy on me, if that event does not happen in 89% of futures she becomes an arch-lich who wipes out civilization, and conquers 39 different planes before I can intercede during her ascension to godhood and kill her. In 10.9 repeating % of futures she dies within 10 years with no lasting effects personally but another war in the heavens starts. And the last <.1% she hangs herself within the month.

So I just need your word you will look after her and train her, that’s it, I promise. No Geas/Quest or anything just your word.”

He shakes the last few white balls from the small bag out, and stitches the now full shimmering bag closed. He tosses the beanbag towards me.

“Here should be a bit more homey now.”

The bag is going much faster, and with more power than he thinks, and it impacts my face with great force. I fall backwards and hit the floor.

“Ow,”

I say I rub the back of my head in pain.

“Ah whoops I forget how soft you mortals are.”

The bean bag wraps around me, and then squeezes between me and the floor. Adjusting itself to a perfect amount of comfort, but not enough to get sleepy. The god slayer looks at me expectantly.

“Fine you have my word.”

I feel a pulse, a throb in my chest.

“Wonderful, now let me help.”

Many arms at least 30 pop out of it’s back. It’s form shifts, the corduroy suit vanishing, and it becomes much more insectile. Like a praying mantis with the abdomen of a spider. The hands begin to weave pulling light from thin air, and creating a large butterfly net by the looks of it.

“You have not lived with magic, so you don’t know how it feels. It would take a decade or more for you to be able to use your powers. Maybe if you were of an exceptional talent you could use them in less time, but your proficiency is lower than average. That means we have to cheat. We are on a time crunch afterall. You’ll feel slight pressure.”

The many arms extend, they quickly lose their skin, becoming pillars of muscle and bone, protruding from its back. The woven light in its hands encircles me. I feel pressure along my hole body, and nothing more. Something in my chest begins to build that faucet I felt previously. It starts with my extremities. Some liquid filling them up slowly. Until it reaches the top of my head where it stops. Energy like lightning in my fingertips, and fire in my blood. I breathe out a freezing wind, and my sweat sizzles with acid.

“Now you should be extremely careful. Normally children with magical bloodlines have years to grow into them. However you have unlocked yours overnight, and sorcerers aren’t known to be the most stable of beings. That doesn’t even count the fact you have a deeper knowledge of physics, than most wizards. Metamagic will likely come as a second nature.”

One of the hands pats me on the shoulder,

“Now go get ‘em.”

I revel in the new power, but the feeling fades.

“Will do Frankenstein.”

I say.

“Frankenstein was the doctor not the monster.”

It replies.

“No I'm pretty sure Frankenstein was the monster."

It chuckles.

“Indeed, indeed. Now you’ve been a good sport so I suppose that I can at least, give you a hint. I’m so fragile if you say my name I will disappear. What am I?”

His abdomen retracts, and the arms vanish revealing the insectoid head, and blue corduroy suit. He puts a finger to his mandibles. He disappears in the blink of an eye. I lay back in the chair, and close my eyes. That mother fucker.

Light hits my eyelids and I open them. Dawn is breaking outside casting rays into the room. Time to get my shit together.