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The Glass Wizard - The tale of a somewhat depressed wizard
Ch. 10.2 — Albweiss Mountains. Underground Passageways - Midnight - Dawnings and Sprites

Ch. 10.2 — Albweiss Mountains. Underground Passageways - Midnight - Dawnings and Sprites

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As the DΔϢΠΙΠƓϛ infiltrated her, their intrusion was brutal, an overpowering force that delved into the very marrow of her bones and Rothar. It was a violation that extended beyond the physical, seeping into the core of her being. No negotiation, no subtle appeal; they seized her forcefully, their cold feelers penetrating her, claiming her essence without compromise.

Upon realising that they were takers, not givers, Midnight resisted. She strained to repel them, to dissolve into the shadows and evade their invasive touch. Yet, she found herself ensnared in a state of numbness, a paralysing grip that surpassed the boundaries of the physical. In the midst of this violation, she recognised their overwhelming strength, a stark display of the chasm between their power and hers — a proclamation of dominance over all beings of darkness.

They took from her, extracting fragments of her essence. Frustration surged within Midnight, a visceral emotion echoing through the caverns of her being. However, even in this violation, she clung to a crucial truth. She had not willingly surrendered parts of herself. Her all had brought her this far, and she had resisted with all her might — and because of that, she still possessed the potential to become all she could be.

The distinction lay in her refusal to yield; she did not let it passively happen to her but bore the consequences of a fight she lost. The outcome remained the same, yet the difference cut deep. Voluntary surrender meant acquiescing to an imagined fate, but Midnight's resistance represented a defiant struggle for a better outcome. Resisting left the future uncertain, an undefined path where she fought for the entirety of her potential. It was not a defeat willingly embraced; rather, a battle waged against the inexorable. Even when you lost, you grew from the experience. Amidst the repercussions of a lost battle, she clung to the knowledge that she had never given in, but demanded and fought to be more.

As the DΔϢΠΙΠƓϛ persisted in their invasive act of extraction, the darkness surrounding Midnight suddenly thickened and tightened. An unnatural warmth coursed through her veins, escalating into a searing heat. Tremors wracked her form, a response to the unsettling energy now forcibly etched into the crevice that remained where her essence had been torn. Alongside their relentless extraction of Midnight's essence, the DΔϢΠΙΠƓϛ infused something back into her. It was an enigmatic exchange, a symbiosis of darkness and an indiscernible substance. Midnight struggled with the ambiguity of this intrusion — what were they doing to her, what were they giving?

Their gestures, their language, their presence — if the DΔϢΠΙΠƓϛ indeed communicated — she was unable to decipher their intentions. They took from her, and in return, they forced something upon her, into her, a cryptic exchange devoid of explanation. As the DΔϢΠΙΠƓϛ continued their ministrations, Midnight perceived subtle yet profound changes within herself. A hunger awakened within her, a craving for something beyond her comprehension. It clawed at her insides, demanding something she could not name. In exchange for the stolen essence, the DΔϢΠΙΠƓϛ bequeathed her the feeling of darkness lurking beneath her skin, an elusive, pulsating presence.

Suddenly, the presence of the DΔϢΠΙΠƓϛ intensified, inundating Midnight's senses with a maelstrom of emotions, complex and contradicting amalgamations of indifference, amusement and desire merged into alien sensations beyond her grasp. It was as if the creatures shared a collective consciousness, an intricate network that transcended her understanding. Overwhelmed, Midnight staggered under the weight of uncountable words bearing down on her. Were they talking to her? Was this a ritual?

Abruptly, everything ceased. The DΔϢΠΙΠƓϛ released their hold on Midnight, their forms dissipating into the darkness. From one breath to the next, she stood alone in the narrow cavern, trembling, her ebony fur bristling.

Midnight drew a shaking breath, her chest rising and falling as she sought to steady herself amidst the lingering haze of the encounter. With each inhale, the oppressive weight of the cavern's atmosphere lessened, though the echoes of the DΔϢΠΙΠƓϛ' presence still reverberated through her. The air now bore a different taste — charged with an otherworldly energy that clung to her like an invisible shroud. Midnight took deeper breaths, regaining control. She was changed, marked. A part of her essence had been lost, yet she could feel the pulsating power of something new within.

It took her a while to grasp that she was, once again, truly alone. It took even more time until she recovered from the shock and regained control of her body. Afterward, Midnight found herself compelled to wash herself extensively. Her movements followed the same fixed routine she had known since birth, offering a semblance of calm amidst the tumult of her thoughts.

She could not shake the belief that she had encountered Gods.

Midnight had heard about the concept of Gods, but had never truly comprehended what they might be. She had never been able to imagine anything other than creatures that were simply much bigger and stronger than dragons and giants, something akin to grand females that birthed different parts of the world. Such thoughts were abstract, complex, and unfinished, considering a concept too difficult and beyond her immediate needs. With so many creatures on earth bigger and stronger than Midnight, she had never concerned herself with the invisible and elusive entities that humanoid peoples worshipped.

During her fledgling days, even wizards had seemed godlike, with their myriad abilities to shape the world and foresee future events. However, as she observed, learned, and bonded with Yves, Midnight came to understand that wizards were merely different from her. While there were things her wizard could do that she could not, there were also things she could do that he could not.

Midnight reflected on the intricate balance of differences among creatures. She surpassed many beasts in height, yet there were others towering over her. Her strong teeth could tear through a rockshade weaver, but those weavers possessed venomous fangs which she had not. Four powerful legs granted her exceptional running and climbing abilities, distinguishing her from avian beasts with only two legs. Conversely, the winged creatures could soar through the air, a feat beyond her reach.

Considering this perspective, even a dragon was fundamentally just another beast different from Midnight. Their greater height, robust teeth, powerful legs, wings, and wizard abilities set dragons apart, because they were greatly superior to Midnight in various aspects, but at the core, they were still just different.

Was a God not simply a being even more powerful, even more different than a dragon? Where lay the distinction between a beast that was merely very different in the way that she was very superior, and a God?

Midnight had shared this contemplation with Yves once. He had very much agreed but added that Gods were considered different from strong creatures because they were creators. Some Gods were believed to be the creators of entire peoples. This response had left Midnight dissatisfied, as it seemed to imply that she, too, could be a God. Like all females, she could create life if she chose to. There were females everywhere on the continent. The pathera females created all pathera. The fersis females created all fersis. The rockshade weaver females created all weavers. All the living creatures on the continent and in the seas existed only because females created new life.

During their conversation, several years ago, Midnight had not been sure if Yves understood this. He was just a wizard, after all, and they did not have females. They could not birth their own children. Then again, Yves created so many lifelike beings, and so often treated his illusions as if they were real life, that Midnight believed he was, in his wizard way, as close to being a female as any male could get.

When Midnight had wondered whether Gods were just powerful females who birthed an extensive amount of offspring, Yves had expanded her understanding. He had said that some Gods were credited with creating fundamental elements of the world, such as water or stars. From that, Midnight had concluded that Gods were grand females with unique abilities. And they were revered for these abilities by lesser beings, as long as they used them for the benefit of the worshippers.

Such a God was, to Midnight, not a beast worthy of respect. Lesser beings had their own affairs, and there was no reason to interfere with them. In her analogy, Midnight might well be a God to any random group of insects. She could be unique and very different for any herd of fersis, if she suddenly decided to establish a territory for them and protect them from any other predator. They could worship her as their protector. If she dug them a stream, they could name her their Goddess of Water. They might even agree to repeatedly and ritually sacrifice one of their own, as some peoples did for their Gods, to satisfy Midnight’s hunger. And if she did so for decades and without allowing her fersis any contact to prey outside of her territory, there might even be generations that worshipped her without knowing that she, too, was a predator, and that they, to her, were nothing but prey. She would be a God to them, but she would be a lesser beast to any other pathera, because she would abandon her existence as a predator. She would sacrifice her pride as a hunter for the admiration of lesser beings. Being worshipped by prey was to feast on fear and illusion.

These unsettling and unsatisfying conclusions had been Midnight's thoughts on the concept of Gods. But now, her encounter with the DΔϢΠΙΠƓϛ had drastically reshaped her understanding. None of her previous assumptions held true. Because now, Midnight believed she had encountered true Gods.

The DΔϢΠΙΠƓϛ were overwhelmingly different, and, though she did not yet understand what it was, they had given Midnight something unique. But this was not what made them Gods.

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While Midnight acknowledged her status as a lesser being to them, she had not felt like prey, not like a fersis facing a predator disguised as a protector. She had been overwhelmed and overpowered, yet she had not felt deceived, nor that the dawnings acted contrary to their nature. Instead, she had sensed a profound connection, a knowledge embedded within her. She knew their name, even though she had never heard of them before. The knowledge had been there, in her, just like breathing, just like taking energy from the world. It had been there all along, and it had awoken upon touch.

Gods were not fallen from pride. Gods were not powerful beings that acted against their nature by overwhelming and tricking lesser beings. They were not predators misleading prey, nor did they act to be acknowledged by such prey.

It was the opposite. With this new piece of essence she had received, with the newfound, pulsating hunger coursing through her veins, Midnight now believed that the defining characteristic of Gods was a different nature. They were not predators, or trappers, or prey. No, they had a unique nature — it was inherent in them to impact other beings. Gods did not act to be acknowledged by lesser beings: they were the ones who sought and acknowledged lesser beings, as the DΔϢΠΙΠƓϛ had done with Midnight.

Gods existed to make lesser beings more.

The DΔϢΠΙΠƓϛ had demanded a sacrifice, yet they had also acknowledged Midnight’s request. Something new resided within her, accompanied by this insatiable hunger that the surrounding energies could not satiate.

Midnight pressed forward, compelled by a sense of purpose intertwined with the dark currents and the breath flowing through the heart of the Albweiss Mountains. With each step, she felt more attuned to the darkness, her ability to follow and direct it becoming more natural. Unlike before, where she fed the entering darkness until it left her, now the darkness within responded to her commands even before being infused with her energy.

Within minutes, the singular tunnel leading out of the narrow cavern expanded, revealing grotesque remnants — the bones of humanoid peoples and beasts neatly sorted by size, stacked and lined up against the walls like a macabre tapestry. They were the remnants of hundreds of creatures, yet all the skulls were missing. The air hung heavy with the thick scent of decay, death woven into the very rocks. Soft echoes of distant drips reverberated, blood and water slipping along the walls like serpents.

Cautiously passing the bone display, Midnight focused on potential dangers hidden amidst the piles. Ever so often, she slowed to navigate past individual bones that protruded from the stacks, their surfaces etched with scratches and grooves from the passage of time. With every step, the lingering scent of decay intensified, revealing an undercurrent of something more, something alive. She sensed the darkness responding to her needs, caressing the stone walls and bones like an extension of her whiskers.

Suddenly, the silence shattered into whispers and laughter, distorted echoes of humanoid and high-pitched cackling. Midnight's fur bristled as they materialised — two sprites, ethereal in form, flitted at the edge of her vision just as she reached the end of the tunnel. The path continued but was blocked by layers of large bones. The laughter swelled into a sing-song of overlapping voices.

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--------------Wel-come, wel-come, yum-yum, yum-yum

----------yum-yum, yum-yum, Wel-come, wel-come

-

Midnight did not acknowledge them. Most sprites were malevolent, but some merely observed and mocked unless provoked. All sprites were dangerous.

She merged with the darkness to shift past the barrage of bones, when a blast of something surged through her, abruptly pushing her out of the darkness. Disturbed, Midnight found herself back in front of the barricaded path, now in her natural pathera form.

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----Oh no, oh no, you cannot go

----------------you cannot go, Oh no, oh no

-

The sprites swirled into her path, now dense ethereal forms. One was dark green, and the other was a sickly, poisonous purple, both with grotesque humanoid figures, disproportionally large heads and even larger maws that gave them an unsettling appearance. They darted around Midnight with calculated mockery, surging through the air and slipping between her legs, their ephemeral bodies deliberately brushing against her ears and tail. Midnight's senses were assaulted by a cacophony of eerie laughter, their high-pitched voices reverberating through the cavernous space.

-

Wel-come, wel-come, yum-yum, yum-yum

We let you come,

We let you pass:

But if you want to go,

Tell us something we don’t know.

Midnight maintained her stoic composure. She bowed her head once, showing she understood.

What, no questions? — You know, normally, people go like ‘Who are you?’

Or: ‘What are you?’

Very rude.

Or: ‘Help!’

Or: ‘Where do all these bones come from?’

Or: ‘How can I possibly know what you know and not know?’

‘Did anyone ever win this game?’

‘How is this fair?’

‘Oh no, oh please, I don’t want to die!’

Midnight stared.

Oh, and also, you know, if we know what you think we don’t know —

Yeah, if you don’t know what we don’t know —

If you think you know what we don’t know though we know all you know —

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--Ꮤ𐌄 Ꮤ𐌉𐌋𐌋 𐌄𐌀𐌕 𐌙Ꝋ𐌵

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And you know

there is no —

thing you can do about it.

Wel-come, wel-come, yum-yum, yum-yum

Just wanted you to know that.

Yes, that was one thing we know you didn’t know.

Now you can return the favour.

Yum-yum, yum-yum, fun-fun, fun-fun

Midnight stared.

Well, if you have no questions —

then you have something we don’t know?

Midnight nodded once.

Pause.

Well, what is it?

What do you possibly know?

Midnight flicked her right ear.

Speak now.

What do you know?

Midnight flicked her ear again.

What?

Midnight flicked her ear again.

What is that supposed to mean?

Is that supposed to mean something?

No fun, no fun, this game is done —

Midnight flicked her ear again, with emphasis.

What is she doing?

Is that on purpose? Is she pointing? Is that talking?

I don’t know, I asked you! It’s irritating, that is!

-

There was quite a long pause.

Then they let her pass.

And then, to her annoyance, they followed her.

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