It took him a while for that hideous presence and humming sound to vanish from his ears. Even after that, all Lukas could do was to curl up, focus his will, and try to push it away from his thoughts. His right hand had gone ice cold from Everfrost, but it was impossibly difficult to procure some fire-mana and neutralize its effects.
Still, it was a nasty surprise. He had always thought that Inanna held an intense amount of power. Her ability, Kinetomancy, had been the most bullshit thing he had ever chanced across. In this world where the real monsters were masters of elemental manipulation, the power to control Motion itself made everything else look tame. It was why he had put no one on a pedestal, despite it all being so amazing and supernatural. After all, elemental manipulation was only a sub-part of what true Kinetomancy was about.
And that was without getting creative.
All of that had made it easy to forget that after all was said and done, it was not what made Inanna the Supreme Queen.
Hell, she had used Kinetomancy in the Vikahl Ashlands. Which meant that the Inanna in the memory had used Kinetomancy against the Fire-god Asshur, and failed.
And then she had gotten something worse.
Her words came to mind.
The Vikahl Ashlands are truly ancient, even for divinity. A power that exists only to purge others. A power that was the antithesis of Asshur’s Truth. I embraced it. For a time. For a price.
He remembered how it felt the first time when he had seen that dream. He had seen — no, he had been Inannna in that dream. The feeling of slowly losing oneself, of slowly throwing away pieces of his — her humanity at every step that he—she made into that flaming valley wasn’t something he had forgotten, or would forget anytime soon.
It was right after this that he had asked her a very vital question.
Is that why you always refer to me as ‘Mortal’? To remind yourself that you aren't’?
Inanna had avoided answering. Lukas had thought it to be an invasion of her privacy and dropped it. But now, he knew differently. It made him wonder, just what was that power she had invoked in the Ashlands? What was she after? What did she get?
A power to purge others?
Her Truth was Depredation. Ordinarily, that word referred to plundering. Ravaging. Destruction. But plundering was an act, not a power and certainly not something as esoteric as a Truth. Which meant that Depredation had a different, infinitely deeper meaning than that. One so complex and yet so utterly fundamental that it became a bedrock for civilization itself.
But that child hadn’t called it the Flames of Depredation. She had called it Deprivation.
Deprivation. The act of taking away that which is others. The core concept wasn’t about taking it for oneself, but to take it away from others. To snatch.
Deprivation and Depredation.
To snatch and plunder.
The act of a robber, an invader, a tyrant.
Wasn’’t that exactly what Inanna was?
Goddess, Tyrant Queen, Butcher… I personally liked the last one.
And she had even cursed him to play her role with her demise.
Be the invader that I was. The monster. The conqueror.
In his ignorance, brimming with his emotions, he had agreed. He had even willingly accepted it all, never knowing, never understanding what it was he was accepting so freely.
He had started the journey for the sake of survival. He had bargained with her for survival. And now, he sought power, sought growth and evolution. He wanted to break the System’s limitations and get as much power as he could, even if it meant snatching from others.
One only needed to look at the massacre in the borderland for proof. Sure, they were out there, baying for his blood. He had tried, several times, to stop the battle and try to escape, but the muspels had been relentless. And somewhere in the middle of all that, the escape attempt had changed to a widespread massacre. Hell, he and Tanya had made a game out of it, as if the monsters were nothing more than pins to bowl away.
But even then, if her Truth was Depredation, what the hell was Deprivation? Were they the same? Just a play on word choices? He thought about her words some more.
I embraced it. For a time. For a price.
For a time? For a price? What did that mean? Did she not have it anymore? Why? Had she rejected it when she had become the Supreme Queen? Both powers were practically synonyms, at least in terms of modern language.
Unless…
Unless Deprivation had nothing to do with snatching at all?
What was he missing?
He looked in front, about to ask Frost about his latest quandary, when the sight before him froze him to his very bones.
Avatar of Fimbulwinter, Alter-ego of every Everfrost user since Meynte, Frost was currently sitting against the wall on the floor, as physically far away from him as possible while staying in the room, her knees curled up against her chest, shocked and scared out of her mind. Lukas didn’t know exactly what he had felt inside that memory, but if it was enough to make Frost visibly scared just by witnessing its memory was something he’d better not risk invoking.
“Frost?” He tried.
She flinched and let out a small squeaking sound. Then she got hold of herself and blinked up to look at him.
“What was that?” He asked.
Her voice was silent. “An anathema. That which cannot happen.”
She met his eyes. “A Taboo.”
Out of everything else she had spoken so far, that surprised Lukas the most.
“Taboo?” He narrowed his eyes. Inanna was a goddess. She was the Supreme Queen. She reforged his own soul out of the remaining flecks of her divinity.
“Inanna is a goddess. A Supreme Queen of the Akkadian Pantheon. You yourself claimed her Truth binds you.”
“I know what I said, soulcrafter,” she snapped, though the heat in her tone was missing, replaced by uneasiness. “And I know what I saw. That, that power is a Taboo! It’s wrong!”
“So are you.”
“You don’t understand, Outsider,” she truly snapped this time, her eyes practically glowing an intense white. “That power cannot exist! That place does not exist! Has not existed! Will not exist! Neither will that power!”
“And how do you know that? By your omniscience? Because a fat lot of good that did for Meynte or your other vessels.”
Frost practically growled at him. “Your levity will not change the truth, Outsider. Your perception of reality limits you. That power… it cannot exist.”
Lukas bit down on whatever retort he was about to make and took a moment to reconsider everything she had told him.
“Frost, are you certain that it is a Taboo?”
“Without a doubt.”
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“But how’s that even possible? Inanna is a goddess. And as you said earlier, one cannot ascend with a taboo. ”
“That girl that took on this power was a mortal, like yourself. She was no goddess.”
Not then, perhaps, Lukas mused. Inanna told him she held the power for a time, and for a price.
If crafting a Truth was the ultimate act of Ascension, bearing a Taboo would be the ultimate sin, at least as far as the World was concerned. If he were to believe Frost, then Inanna had first become an Anathema — a Taboo-wielder, and killed Ashhur, followed by many others.
Had she then discarded her power and become a goddess through one of her collected relics? That didn’t sound like the Inanna he knew. Inanna was a cruel bitch, but she was a proud one. She’d rather die than be known for a power that belonged to someone else.
But by that logic, even Deprivation belonged to someone, or rather, some place else.
The Vikahl Ashlands.
Was that why she had given up this power? So that she could find the path of her own Ascension? Something similar to the power she once held, but something that belonged to her and her alone?
It was all speculation but not one without its merits.
“And… if this Taboo doesn’t exist, then why are you panicking?”
“You do not understand, soulcrafter!” claimed Frost, slowly standing up. “You do not understand the pieces you have set in motion.”
“Then help me understand.”
Frost glared at him, but he didn’t look away. Finally, she consented. “Unlike a Truth, a Taboo always exists. From the very beginning to the very end. The march of progress starts from the emptiness of the Formless Infinity, expressing Potential in infinite forms, reaching their individual zeniths and forming Truths that get added to the Origin. A Taboo? It’s always part of the Void. You might not know when it will rise, when it devours a pantheon and obliterates Potential, but it is there. It is always there. For this Reality, the Taboo is, was, and will always be Fimbulwinter, that which consumes Potential.”
“Then this Deprivation…”
“Is from a different Reality. One that doesn’t, that cannot exist.”
Lukas opened his mouth, but no words came out. He was finally seeing what was so weird about this. It was like watching a dinosaur on TV, only for the dinosaur to shatter the screen and jump into your room. The issue wasn’t that the dinosaur couldn’t exist, because it did, millions of years ago. But this dinosaur was a product of imagination. An illusion belonging to an illusory world crafted out of technology. It was not and could not, become real.
Yet the same thing had happened. For Frost, neither the flames of Deprivation nor Inanna were real. And while Inanna’s Truth was a perfectly good addition to this reality, to this… Origin, the same couldn’t be said about the Taboo of Deprivation.
Her body language tensed even more. “Reality is large enough for Infinite Truths to co-exist together, soulcrafter. But a single Taboo is all you need to return that back into the Formless. And this Reality has one. That is my purpose. But this power is so impossibly powerful that it was tearing through the foundations of Time and Reality itself. One that was attempting to leave the constrictions of Abstract and become the Real. It can even deprive me of my purpose. My destiny!”
“It is a memory.” Lukas stressed. “It isn’t real. If it was, then resurrecting Inanna would be a lot easier. And no offense, but for someone that also wants to destroy Reality, you’re making a big deal out of this!”
“I do not seek to destroy Reality, soulcrafter. I exist to revert the march of Potential. There is a difference.” Her expression was replaced with a cold, hard, glacial look. “If this Taboo enters this Reality, both powers will collide. It will be cataclysmic for Reality itself. I’m afraid I cannot let you do this. That Anathema cannot be resurrected. No matter the cost.”
“Makes sense.”
“A Taboo like that, empowering its Anathema, will destroy this Reality, and nothing you can do can hold it at bay. You cannot…. Wait, did you just agree with me?”
The confusion on her face looked so innocent that Lukas couldn’t help it and chuckled.
She scowled.
“I’m not stupid enough to bring another world-ending power into this mess.”
Frost looked utterly flummoxed. “But your goddess —”
“I intend to resurrect the goddess, not an Anathema. I have invoked her Divinity in the past, but could only manage a temporary resurrection that lasted for minutes.” He freely admitted. “I need something… permanent, and for that, I need your help.”
Her features softened. “You are an enigma, soulcrafter. You faced the might of Meynte and risked the end of the world for the girl, yet you’d shrink away from the same when asked to resurrect your goddess? Perhaps your devotion to her isn’t as deep as you put it.”
Lukas frowned and tilted his head to a side in honest confusion. “I don’t understand. Saving Tanya was my choice. As is resurrecting Inanna. But what has either to do with stopping this Anathema from entering this reality?”
Frost blinked. “But —”
“I owe Inanna my life. I will pay back my debt. But that does not mean I will destroy the world to bring her back. There has to be a different way.”
“And how do you know that?”
“Because I believe it does. Inanna called me her miracle. What else is a miracle but something you wish to be true?”
Frost snorted before sighing deeply. “You are unbearably optimistic, Outsider. Truly, there hasn’t never been anyone as hopelessly optimistic in the annals of all of civilization.”
“Who is more hopeless? Someone that never gives up? Or someone who doesn’t even try?”
“Outsider—”
“I’m not stupid, Frost. I know how much you despise Meynte for what she did. And I also know that I risked this world by saving Tanya. But that doesn’t need to happen if you help her.”
“... Help her?”
“Become the vessel, yes. The Anathema for this Reality.”
Frost tilted her head, studying him. “You surprise me, Soulcrafter. An Anathema is a destroyer. If the girl is not strong enough, the power will twist her and turn her into a devastating force that leaves only ice and death in her wake.”
“Then what do you expect me to do, kill her? Don’t treat me as a fool. If Tanya dies, you’ll just manifest in the next person. You said the Taboo is always there, waiting for a vessel. There is just no end to it. If not Tanya, then someone else, and the cycle will keep going, until the Anathema is born. But if she can learn to control it, maybe she can be… more.”
“...more?” Frost looked utterly uncomfortable with the idea.
“Fire burns, but fire also keeps the cold away. Ice can freeze one to death, but it can also soothe. Everfrost can end Potential, so that makes it the perfect tool to balance the scales when someone messes with it.”
“You mean a god —”
“I mean a lot of things. Tanya’s own grandfather is a monster. One that must be eliminated. I’d rather have her master Everfrost and destroy that monster’s potential. It doesn’t matter if you’re a Warlord, a King or a freaking god, if you have potential, Everfrost can slay you. The way it looks to me, Truth and Taboo are two sides of the same coin. A duality that maintains the balance of Reality.”
“And you think the girl —”
“Can become this balance, yes. Especially if you help her.”
“Are you not afraid that I could abuse it?” she asked, honestly curious.
“Of course I am,” he replied, actually surprised that she asked such a thing.
“And yet you’d have her become an Anathema? I’d have pegged you for a savior, hero.”
Lukas blinked, before it hit him. “Frost…” he began slowly. “I don’t think you quite understand me. Saving Tanya was my choice, just as choosing to become the Anathema will be hers. Meynte tried to snatch that choice from her, and I fought her for it. What makes you think I won’t do the same against you?”
“And what if the girl becomes the demon that Meynte feared? What if she becomes the monster that only knows to devour?”
“Frost… the moment I chose to save Tanya, I already took into consideration that she could end up as a threat to just about everyone.”
“Then why save her?”
“Because it’s not right to sacrifice someone that has yet to express the wish or the intention to harm innocents just to be on the safe side. And to be honest, if I were to eliminate every potential threat to other’s lives, I'd eradicate every single being in this world, including myself.”
It was the truth. The greatest threat to a person’s life was every other person. He’d have to eliminate the yokai for they fed on bremetan souls. He’d have to eliminate bremetans for they bound kami to themselves. He’d have to eradicate kami because they possessed bremetans and could wreak havoc.
“And what if the girl chooses to become the destroyer? What if she takes up the role of the Anathema and crushes the march of potential?”
Lukas fisted his hands and closed his eyes. Frost had hit the right button with the question. It was why he had wanted to maintain a distance from Tanya, despite his feelings for her.
When he opened his eyes next, they were a mesh of green and brown.
“Then I’d take responsibility for having saved her life and stop her myself.”
It was not a threat, nor a warning. Merely a declaration of intent. The declaration of a resolution made before she even began considering how he’d react to her twisted schemes.
Lukas smiled. It looked like she had expected him to be naive, someone with no real grasp of the harshness of reality, someone just blindly believing the best of others. And to be honest, that wasn’t completely wrong, but it was a product of clear, deliberate choice, and not ignorance.
He had known exactly what Inanna had offered him back in the anomaly. For all her endless power, she’d make him a toy, a puppet that followed her whims. His grandfather had always taught him to shoulder the consequences of his own actions, and what Inanna was offering was a way to shift the blame.
Was there any surprise why he had rejected her time and tide again?
“Do not misunderstand me, Frost. Inanna saved my life. I owe her a debt. It’s mine to shoulder, just like the world I carry within myself. But just like Tanya, if the resurrected Inanna turns out to be a danger, a true monster, then it would be upon me to put her down.”
He paused, fisting his hands. “It would crush me, yes, but I’d do it.”
“Why?”
“Because,” he said, the smile on his lips never reaching his eyes. “It would be a monster of my own making.”