Ulric was surprised at just how easily he'd passed through the various stages of grief to reach a calm acceptance of his fate. Dying, it turns out, was way easier when a god decides to mediate and hold your hand through it. It helped when god also had a rocking set of knockers on display, and didn't mind your eyes wandering.
None of you people are allowed to judge. You weren't there, you didn't see what the ever so slightly chilly air did.
Running through a mental grounding exercise for the third time, helped reset his center of balance. He took the window of mental clarity to address the elephant in the room.
"You…made me a new body?" he asked. Hurriedly he continued "It's not a bad body, I'm not complaining. In fact, it's great. I feel like a kid again." he patted his stomach and chest as he said this, noting that his muscles had none of the stiffness he'd grown used to. There was none of the rigid tightness in the tendons of his hands, they felt loose and powerful.
The Watcher observed him with her now familiar patience and replied "It was necessary. A material body cannot survive the resonances involved in PASSAGE. Self-mutilation through indifference aside, your old body had been further crippled by the death of your world's Watcher. He was unable to guide the genesis of life and the result was evolution through chaos. That any intelligent life managed to survive was remarkable testament to the robustness of the progenitor code, the script we use to encourage development of advanced life forms."
Again with the world shaking, but, for once, he didn't dwell long on it because the Impossible was laying some heavy context on him. He wanted to ask questions but it seemed like you should probably just let god roll.
"In addition to culling the more virulent forms of disease and ensuring protective mechanisms to prevent the progenitor code from corrupting and inducing malicious variant lines, the Watcher of thine world was unable to guide the formation of soul crystallization in higher life forms. This resulted in a severing of the Akashic record, and prevented species memory from properly forming. One of the cults of thy world refer to this as Babel, the loss of species language. It also prevented the life on that world from harnessing the FIELD, what the cultures of thine world called magic.
Oh damn, another tooth rattler has hit the field. This one washed through him and seemed to sit particularly behind his breastbone.
Wait. Magic?
"Magic?" he asked. "You're talking about magic, as in the ability to use the Force, will made manifest, and working the aether with your brain?"
"You are using words in ways that are inherently nonsensical. I am referring to the collection and processing of mana by thine core, that thou may wield the tuned forces thereof. " She said, the first signs of impatience he'd heard so far creeping into her voice. Huh, guess even an immortal can get irritated by blatant enough stupidity.
"Sorry. Really. It's just that I was recently murdered by a cosmic deviant, resurrected ten minutes ago, told that the god of my universe is dead, found out I'm an alien soul stowaway, learned that DNA and magic are both the result of gods playing SimLife, and have you seen the size of these fucking TREES?" He pointed at the primordial tree he'd woken under as his voice slid higher in pitch.
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
He felt like he was handling it pretty well, all things considered. No running. Minimum profanity. Only a little screaming, and none of it strictly incoherent.
Besides, these trees were absolutely massive and he had always had a passion for old growth forests. The glade he stood in was the nearest thing to divinity he'd ever experienced, the way a cathedral must feel to a Christian.
The outburst must have settled something in the Impossible's mind because she shifted and slightly tilted her chin, as if considering a relevant thought.
"The fault was mine." She nodded her head to him, one of the most dramatic gestures she'd made thus far. "Thou are right to be unsettled and it should not come to thee to remind me of this instability."
"My interference with events is taxing. I will seek to resolve this meeting and permit thy destiny to unfold as it will."
She took a sudden step forward, somehow making that step cover the entire distance between them and placed a hand on his chest. He felt a rapid pulse of warmth in that space behind his breastbone. Heat rippled outward from chest to digits. The hairs on his head felt like they briefly lit on fire. Immediately this heat was replaced by a cold like frost forming on his bones. It had to be the single most uncomfortable sensation he'd ever felt.
"There." She said stepping back to her original position with satisfaction evident on her face. "The core has been tuned, joining thee to the Akashic record. It will now also be able to properly harmonize with and utilize the FIELD."
Vibration through his bones washed away the sensation of thermal cycling his nerves. He didn't feel any different. Shouldn't he feel different?
"Shouldn't I feel different?" he inquired.
The Impossible gave a slight head shake towards the negative.
"The core is tuned but has not harmonized for long enough to fill. It requires time, proper technique, or proper place for a core to fill rapidly. Fear not, it is tuned and soon enough thou will be able to guide the mana to form. Have a caution. I have forged thee full meet, and, in the fullness of thine strength, great harm can thee bring to thyself. Most enjoy a lifetime to learn their limits. Time is not a luxury, destiny awaits thee."
Ulric was feeling at his chest as the Watcher finished. He couldn't feel any difference, especially not when his entire body was a novel experience.
"A final gift.” The Impossible told him before its eyes flashed and a spike made of ice felt like it was jammed into his skull.
The flare of cold turned molten in his brain and he dropped to the grass and tried not to claw too much at his eyes, since he only had the pair of them and was going to need them later. The heat turned into a loud buzzing that faded away. Ulric almost sighed in relief. Almost. Just as well he’d been breathing in or he might have screamed.
Images blitzed through his wetware, each one a razor blade, pillars of fire reaching heavensward, Incendere, a running river pounding rapids, Aquae, stone unmoving grinding through eons, Terra, lightning flashing roar of thunder, Ceraun, winds driving whipping clouds, Caelum, frost creeping bringing silent stillness, Infrig. Alongside the images, a bell tone hummed a harmony for each, loudly, but in his chest, not his ears. Other images played briefly, too rapidly to catch, some horrific in nature, and his brain went white for a second, overwhelmed. He gagged once before he managed to recover. Looking up balefully at the incarnation of perfect form.
Ulric, climbed shakily to his feet and, once more, directed profanity towards what might be god, “The fuck did you just do to me you primordial cosmic deviant?”
His spiteful tone passed around and through the entity without any visible effect. It replied casually, and he tried to calm down. If it wanted him dead it wouldn’t have to work very hard at it.
“You have been imparted the smallest fragment of knowledge of the fundaments of the FIELD, what is called mana by those born of this world.” The Impossible told him, quieter now, as if from across a greater distance, “The peoples of this land would learn of such things from their parents, yet another luxury thou will make do without, but some things must not be done and this knowledge is necessary to preserve certain balances you might upset through ignorance. Lastly, there is a way to view your connection to this world. Visualize thyself, thine own image, concentrate on thy being and name. Feel the core and call to this image. Some prefer to call out with their voice while they do this, and it may help. Synchronize with thyself and say Status."
The Watcher's form began to shimmer, the already ethereal colors in her robes becoming something indescribable.
"This will allow thee to access thine own portion of the Akashic record to view it in its entirety. Beware. Others of sufficient wisdom and with a strong enough soul can call to the Akashic and view not only their own piece but that of others. It is a magic called [Scan] and it is a potent weapon."
Now fading beyond sight, Ulric heard her voice only faintly.
"Journey well and far, warrior for though we will not meet again in this life, I will always be Watching. May thine destiny be kinder in this thy home world."
And then Ulric was alone.