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The Freelancer's Testament
CHAPTER ONE [PART FIVE]

CHAPTER ONE [PART FIVE]

CHAPTER ONE [PART FIVE]

The Citadel

103 Years Since the Citadel's Founding

Year of the Void-Scarring Talon, Month of the Egg.

“Very well, Burst. You have summoned that which you seek to usurp, what now?”

The god wasn’t there and then was. It loomed over us, the dome of its head nearly brushing the ceiling. I wondered whether somehow or another the temple had been built sufficiently to hold its physical form, or if the god restricted itself to its environment.

“It’s the latter,” it answered.

“Please don’t read my mind.”

The god’s expression was unreadable, both because of the hood that shrouded most of its head, and because it’s furry muzzle appeared static. Yet, I could feel amusement from it anyways.

“I’ve not had fantasies like those in a while,” it said.

“Stop,” I repeated, embarrassed.

“Enough. Do you know what we call you, among mine?” Burst said.

“Among yours? The Cult of the Dispossessed, is it?”

“You’re familiar,” Burst said, unwilling to reveal whether or not this worried it.

“I know, as well, that you title us aberrations.”

“You do not deserve the power you were given. There is nothing divine or holy about you. The gods of this world must be of this world. Thus, you are aberrations.”

“Now, now. We’ve been here longer than any other entity. I can hardly even remember what I was before I got here. And even then, I am merely a copy. An imitation. I am not the original. The original could never step foot in this world, and likewise, without this world, there is no me. I am of this world, despite your proclamations otherwise.”

“Yet, still unnatural. Still tainted by those memories.”

“I’ve forgotten most of it, really. Hundreds of millenniums of existence will do that to you. Did you really beggar my presence just to demand I disappear? You’re well read, Burst. How often have you heard of the God of Patterns appearing before a mortal? You are the first, are you not? Don’t waste my time.”

“I’ll state my intentions plainly. I am going to kill your Avatar.”

“Unless?”

“There is no unless. It will ruin the pattern. Weaken you.”

“Is this your theory?”

“Weaken a god’s aspect, and they become vulnerable. You weave patterns. Violate the patterns, and you are unmade.”

“Very well, then. Proceed.”

“I’d like to object,” I said.

“No need. Look.”

Burst, despite its threats, did not move.

“A holding spell?” Burst said.

“Isn’t it a bit naive to think me so weak in my own temple? One would think if you’d challenge a god, you would have a bit more humility.”

“You could do with sprucing up your temple a bit,” I said.

“If I encouraged such acts, more people would feel welcome. Aside from that superstitious one who lights these candles, you’re the first two visitors this particular place of worship has received in a long time. I think the number remains in the double digits since it was built. But I prefer my solitude, so I won’t protest. Let my followers sense my pattern from afar, lest they begin to think they can manipulate me into acting one way or another.”

“You think you have the advantage now?”

“Why, yes. I believe that everything is going more or less as intended.”

“It is, but not for you.”

“For the both of us, or all three of us, I meant. You intended to meet me, to confirm your suspicions, and so you have. My Avatar intended to learn why he is here, and not overlooking the world from some mountain of the gods, and he will have his answer shortly. And I intended for my would-be usurper to escort my Avatar to me. All as intended.”

“You think I follow your patterns?”

“Everyone follows my patterns. You may believe yourself capable of deviating from it, or of deceiving me, and I welcome you the effort, Burst, but you will fail.”

“Too much time as a god has made you think you’re infallible. Unassailable.”

“I await the pleasure of the surprise of being proved wrong.”

“And it will come.”

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“But presumably not now. I assume you have nothing else to say to me. You’ve gotten what you came for. You’ve witnessed the aberration you seek to depose. Return to your dispossessed, then. Tell them all you’ve witnessed. Lull them into arrogance by convincing them their ambitions are attainable. But do not forget to warn them as well, that the aberrations are ever aware of their war. Perhaps some among you will heed that wisdom. Though wisdom is hardly something one can expect from a cult committed to the goal of deicide. And how much more dull would existence be without the unwise and their irrationality? Now, leave.”

Burst collapsed in a heap, it’s body lifeless.

“Did you kill it?”

“This was only a puppet, more or less.” The god clapped its hands. “So, shall I call you 3451 too? Or qhimphal? No, I think Avatar will do. Until you have a proper title.”

“And what do I call you?”

“Weaver will do.”

“Will you give me some answers, Weaver?”

“To which question?”

“I’m a bit hesitant to say this. Gods after all, tend to be notorious for, if nothing else, their temper.”

“It’s true. Even among us aberrations, time has dulled whatever diffidence we once had. Mine is no exception. And with that, the right to a temper seemed natural. Nevertheless, go on.”

“I’m meant to be a god, like you.”

“Yes, that is what your memories tell you. But you’re not merely meant to be a god like me, you’re meant to be me. I’ll allow you a moment of shock. There. You’ve had your moment. Avatar, nothing went wrong with the transition between your old existence and this new one. How should I put this? You are a clone of myself as I was when I first entered this world. But those memories you hold, you can think of them as simply being the mold onto which you were built. A preset. You are me as I first arrived, without all the power. You are not a god. You’re as mortal as anyone else. Prone to death, and disease, as anyone else. You should give up on notions of godhood for the moment, you will not attain it.”

“Huh.”

“Yes, it’s a lot to register. But you’ve had a full day to recognize you are no god, I would have hoped that would be enough time to come to gripes with your… mortality. Fear not, you still have a role to play here. You are my Avatar, after all. My agent in this precarious expanse. And I have need of you.”

“Does it have anything to do with the cult trying to wipe out your pantheon?”

“Ha. No. At least, not yet. They may prove a bigger issue down the line. Truthfully, none of us aberrations have ever died, so we are not so worried as you might expect. We are not sure if there is any method to kill us, for that matter. That won’t stop people like our friend Burst from trying to learn how. And I won’t decry their research. It would be useful to learn what our fatal weakness proves to be. Besides, of course, a god’s arrogance. Which brings me to the one exception. Burst did not lie to you. At the end of Ntro’s rift lies her power. And, should someone claim it, Ntro would be powerless. There to be killed. And replaced.”

“I’m supposed to do something about that.”

“You’re going to prevent it.”

“And how will I accomplish that? Forty-two academies at the very least, who knows how much more. Producing countless freelancers, most of them vying for that rift. Do I have that right? They have a head start, don’t they? And, you may not realize this, but without godliness, I’m not all that special. Surely there was someone a bit more exceptional you could’ve found in the Known Infinite to be your Avatar instead of copying yourself. You seem aware of your own lack of humility, yet you don’t act on it.”

“You think I’m mistaken for relying on you… or myself?”

“I don’t think I’m entirely useless, but I have a hard time believing you couldn’t have found a more suitable option. Is it a lack of trust? Fear that you’ll be betrayed? Aren’t you worried I’ll have ambitions of my own?”

“A lack of trust, yes. Your ambition isn’t something I fear. It’s something worth fermenting, in fact. See, while there is no hope of you taking the place you believed you’d be given upon waking up, you are not exempted from what all the other freelancers seek, do you understand?”

“I can complete the rift myself?” My golden fleece.

“And take Ntro’s power.”

“I never expected I’d grow to be that duplicitous. But how many milleniums did you say you lived through? I guess there’s a vast difference between how you think, and how I think.”

“Not as different as you might suspect. Ntro has given mortals a path to godhood, but she herself is participating in the attempt to prevent them from attaining it. And she understands that what she is doing, it’s a threat to all of us. A mortal killing a god is hard to fathom, just yet, but a god killing a god-”

“You mean you’ve tried killing each other? Ha. Of course, you’ve tried. How many of us entered this world? Even if you said a dozen, all it takes is one to betray.”

“I’ve not made any attempt myself, but suffice to say you’re not incorrect. That is besides the point. I’m not merely making an attempt at self-preservation. The risks of allowing Ntro to lose her powers, they’re too much. So I will stand against it. She’s well aware of this. Well, she was. Before she gave it up.”

“You’ll take a stand through me? And what if I did attain Ntro’s power? Is this part of your plan?”

“I find myself more comforted by the thought of you as a god, than a stranger.”

“Ah. Well, I guess I’d feel the same.”

“I know.”

“But we’ve not gotten past my initial criticism: what makes you think I’m anymore capable? Won’t these dispossessed be aware of me now? Won’t they try to get rid of me? I’m powerless, as far as I’m aware.”

“Ntro’s game is meritocratic. Well, in so much as the breadth of her considerations allowed. You will have power, if you work for it. And of course, you will have the backing of a god.”

“What does a backing entail? I’m led to believe you’re a bit of an absentee deity.”

“Absentee? No! No. Did you not hear Burst speak? The patterns, they’re always there. And these patterns allowed me to be ready for your arrival. With that said, I have a gift for you, Avatar.”

“A gift from a god? Finally, something to make me feel special.”

“Look to your hip.”

I looked down, to feel a sudden bit of weight there. There was a belt, and on that belt, a pouch. I unfastened it, and pulled out a… deck of cards.

“Spell cards? Like the one Burst had.”

“Yes, and no. Containers, like the one Burst had. But examine them.”

On the back of the cards, there was nothing much to discern, merely the image of a lock. And on the face of the cards, a title and a silhouette. I shuffled through it, reading names haphazardly: Commander, Mime, Sentinel, Zealot. Only a few among several dozen cards. Titles?

“What is it?”

“These are… victims of my cruel whims.”

“Victims?”

“All for you.”

“You’re being obtuse.”

“Ha. Yes. I forget myself, sometimes. But isn’t that just the manner of a god and its adherent? We all have roles we have to play.”

“Adherent? I don’t know. I have a hard time with the idea of worshiping myself. And you should know that worship alone isn’t something I’d be much keen on.”

“Nevertheless, you wish to survive, no? And not just survive, but thrive. You have no choice in the matter. Most adherents do not, else why would they spend their time putting us on pedestals. Obtuse, you said? Fine, I’ll be blunt. Each card is a container for someone long dead. An individual that has been forgotten by history, up until the remnant of what they were will cross your path. You will give them a second chance. And they will protect you, and help you. The catch is, you’ll need to find them yourself.”

“How?”

“You’ll figure it out, Avatar.”

“And until then? How will I protect myself from Burst while this gift of yours remains useless?”

Weave shrugged. “Pray to the God of Fortune?”

“What?”

And vanished.

“Hey. You’re still here, aren’t you? This is your temple.” Nothing. “Fine. But if I die, I do hope these dispossessed do accomplish their laudable goals.” I frowned at the chuckle that reverberated in the temple.