H - 10: I'm a Celestial Maggot (Patreon)

He barely noticed the plaza onto which the door opened, a mirror of that which lay before the front entrance to the lair.  Kaln rushed across it, past the pristine Timekeeper architecture, and grabbed the waist-high Timestone balustrade, leaning out to gape at the vista which opened before him.

The valley was surrounded by an unbroken wall of craggy mountain peaks; though waterfalls spilled into it in two places, this appeared to be the only entrance.  This early in the morning, it was still mostly dark, the sun being barely a glowing suggestion behind the eastern ridges.  And yet everything within the valley was full of light, because of what kind of city it was.

A kind he had never heard of, one that was widely believed not to exist.

A Timekeeper city.  An entire city. Timekeeper artifacts varied from pocket-sized to contraptions too big to easily move.  They had left behind monuments, and even entire structures, but these were all isolated, and by this point in history surrounded by the cities of lesser and younger civilizations.  By layers of them, in many cases, as the Timekeepers had been gone long enough for entire cultures to rise and fall around them.  The beautiful, utterly impervious buildings were too useful not to become the focal points of whatever country grew around them.

But Kaln had never heard of more than a small handful of such things existing in proximity.  An entire city?  Utterly unprecedented.  There were scholars who would commit any crime imaginable just to have a glance at what was now laid out before him.  Kaln had met quite a few of them personally; more than one had told him so in as many words.

The ruin of countless centuries was evident here.  Seismic events had changed the very mountains around this valley; parts of the city were buried by ancient avalanches, with untouched spires poking out of what now looked like mountain slopes.  To judge by those emerging from the lake which filled the center and lowest part of the valley, that had not been underwater when this was constructed.  And, of course, trees and vines of all sorts had taken over, the surrounding walls providing ample shelter from the mountain winds.

And yet, unlike any other ancient city left in such a state, the actual structures were untouched, and untouchable.  The crushing tree roots, flooding waters and even the weight of the very mountains themselves had inflicted not a scratch.  Though strangled, flooded, and buried, the works of the Timekeepers were impervious, standing as pristine as the day they had been built.  Light filled the shadowed valley, the windows and decorative features of Timeglass glowing as it always did when not directly illuminated.

The effect was truly beautiful.  Melancholy and unearthly, but a stunning picture nonetheless.

“I…what…how?” Kaln managed to stammer.

“I see you have a proper appreciation, husband,” Emeralaphine said with approval in her voice, sauntering forward to join him at the rail.  “Good.  I fear I would find nothing to talk about with a man who has no regard for history.”

“But…this is here,” he protested.  “Just…just lying here.  Have you any idea what…  No, what am I saying, of course you do.  You, more than practically anyone.  But this is amazing!  Precious!  There can’t be another one like this in the world!”

“I know of no other whole cities still intact,” she said offhandedly.  “Though I take it as given that they must exist.  Some, perhaps, kept private as we do this one.  I should think others are lost under various oceans and deserts and the like; the face of the earth itself is more malleable than the works of the Timekeepers.  Then again, what little can be inferred about their civilization from its scant leftovers is inscrutable, even contradictory.  Though their artifacts are found on every continent, perhaps they did have only a few cities.  Perhaps only one.  Who can say?  They were surely as strange a people as they were powerful.”

“And nobody knows about this!  Do you know how badly scholars would want to see this?”

“We are dragons,” she said archly.  “Sharing is not in our nature.  I should think you could imagine Atraximos’s reaction to the idea of allowing mortals here to study the ruins.  Even with him gone from the equation, what would you propose, husband?  Can you conceive of any way to open this to the world without likewise opening the entirety of our business?  To say nothing of the sheer catastrophic nuisance of it, for you in particular, our privacy is potentially a matter of life and death.”

It brought him up short, a reminder of his own complicated situation that dumped sand all over his sudden scholarly fascination.  Truthfully Kaln wasn’t even a scholar himself, merely a highly literate layperson with an interest in history.  This spectacle was enough to shake anyone with the slightest such inclinations to their core, but he had more immediate concerns.  Chiefly, his wife.  Fortunately she seemed pleased by his interest, but still…  He could not afford to neglect Emeralaphine’s perspective, not when he specifically needed to court her affections.

But still.  To just siton this, when it would revolutionize everything known about one of the world’s greatest mysteries…

Then his attention was redirected yet again as he felt the sudden pressure of a dragon’s intense focus upon him.  Not Emeralaphine’s, either.  He recognized this one.

By the same gift of his new magic, he recognized the intent was was mischievous, not malicious, and managed to restrain himself from an undignified spectacle of panic.  Kaln turned around and raised his head at a carefully circumspect pace, just in time to see the green shape swooping down upon them.

Vadaralshi banked at the last instant, the wind of her passage yanking violently at their hair and clothes, and then she was soaring away across the ancient city, her voice ringing back at them.

“Bye, Emmy!  Bye, Mr. Pants!”

At his right, Emeralaphine emitted a most unladylike snort.

A huge hexagonal panel of what resembled blue glass appeared from nothing, directly in Vadaralshi’s path and far too close for her to evade.

Kaln winced in sympathy as the young dragon smashed face-first into it, her entire sinuous body scrunching up from the impact like a blacksmith’s bellows being depressed.  And then she went tumbling out of the air, plummeting into a stand of trees far below with a crash that set a flock of squawking birds scattering in all directions.  That took her out of view, but they could hear two subsequent impacts, followed by a splash.

“Is…”  Kaln gulped.  “Is she…”

“Regrettably, that is as severely as I dare discipline the little pest,” Emeralaphine said disdainfully.  “We do not meddle in the rearing of one another’s offspring for the sake of keeping peace within the family.  No matter how badly that idiot child needs her claws trimmed, I prefer not to ignite an annoying and unwinnable conflict with Tiavathyris.”

She flicked her claws and the conjured wall of glass still hovering in midair vanished.

“Rude,”came Vadaralshi’s voice from far below.  Moments later she emerged from the tree cover, clambering sinuously up the side of a tower.

“I will not say my Pheneraxa is without her annoying habits—the young are after all young—but do note that she behaves like a person and not some manner of enormous, nominally sapient monkey,” Emeralaphine sneered.

Kaln studied her contemptuous expression, then looked back at the city, where Vadaralshi was just launching herself off the roof of the tower.  She seemed none the worse for wear from her humbling, and in moments was once again soaring away over the mountains.

“I’m getting the impression Vadaralshi is something of a character,” Kaln said diplomatically.  “Though to be honest, it’s Vanimax I’m most worried about getting along with.”

“Yes, husband, well spotted,” she agreed, giving him a speculative look.  “But I advise you not to worry, as such.  You are the head of this family now, and among dragons, that carries certain expectations.  If Vanimax cannot mind his place, you will simply have to put him in it.”

“Simple as that, eh?”

She smirked, then turned to look out over the city again.  “Based on your display yesterday eve, the only difficulty in that will be to sufficiently restrain yourself to spare his life.  The boy would be even less a loss to the world than his father, but I fear Izayaroa would make herself absolutely impossible to deal with if any of us were to seriously harm him.  Speaking of the young ones, husband, if you decide to go exploring in the ruins, I recommend having one of them show you around.  They all spent their early decades clambering about in there and doubtless know every corner.  No sizable animals remain this close to a dragons’ lair, and of course the structures themselves are perfectly sound, but the place is not without its dangers.”

Emeralaphine kept her face pointed out over the vista before them, but glanced sidelong at him.  Kaln couldn’t help noticing her pupil remained a narrow vertical slit; the sight of him did not fill her with satisfaction as it did Izayaroa.  Not yet, at least.

“You are a much more resilient creature than you were at this time yesterday, husband.  It is unlikely you would perish from falling, drowning, spontaneous burial, or any of the mishaps which might befall you down there.  On the contrary, we must be mindful of exposing you to intensely emotional experiences.  A godling subjected to serious trauma tends to become the sort of god whose presence in the world is to no one’s benefit, least of all their own.”

“Ah, and that brings us back on topic,” Kaln said, putting on a winsome yet knowing smile—one of several highly specific expressions in which Haktria had deliberately coached him—and gently twined his fingers through her claws again.  “That was gracefully done, my lady.”

He could tell by her momentary flash of expression that it hadn’t been her intent, but then she smiled and raised her chin, too proud to demur a compliment.  If there was one saving grace to his need to manipulate this wise, ancient creature, it was that uncounted years of social isolation had left her amusingly transparent.

“Yes, obviously,” Emeralaphine lied so smoothly he had to wonder if he’d just accidentally convinced her she had done it on purpose.  In Kaln’s experience, that often worked on sufficiently egotistical people.  “By all means, let us proceed.  Begin by telling me what you do know, husband.  Undoubtedly your quest began with research; just as undoubtedly I shall have to correct several misconceptions, in addition to filling in what I am sure are substantial gaps.”

“I think…you’re right about that,” he murmured.  Still holding her hand, he stepped toward the nearby stairs, which descended into an ancient avenue below.  Fortunately he had already settled on a plan to navigate these tricky waters, but he indulged in a moment of stalling to help re-orient his mind.  The revelation of the ruined city had rocked him entirely out of the crafty mindset he needed to get information without betraying weakness.  This also provided the chance to investigate a hunch.  “In fact, Izayaroa made a suggestion that I think has merit.”

Emeralaphine curled her lip in irritation, a particularly alarming expression as even in this form she had noticeable fangs.  Were Kaln not impervious to dragon attack now, he’d have been far more concerned about the tightening of her claws against his fingers.

“Did she.”  Her voice was flat, scornful.  Yep, the signals he’d been picking up on were as good as confirmed: there was serious tension between these two.  Kaln had risked poking at it now only because he had a ploy ready at hand to immediately alleviate it.

“When I asked her opinion about apotheosis,” he said, affecting a nonchalant tone as they descended the last few stairs.  “She said that I should ask you, instead, since you were the expert.”

Emeralaphine’s steps hesitated as they emerged from the base of the stairs onto a walkway which overlooked the descending terraces of the city.  “Izayaroa said that?”

“Mm,” he murmured, keeping his tone light and innocent.  “Evidently she has had scant interaction with or interest in godlings over the years.  Izayaroa said her own knowledge was surely incomplete and likely incorrect in some details, and that I should get my information directly from a more trustworthy source—which is to say, you.”

He paused, glancing nonchalantly over at her as they strolled carefully down the avenue, stepping over tree roots and bits of tumbled rock that had failed to make any impression on the impervious pavement.  Along their right was a row of walls with windows and doors, their Timeglass glowing happily, and Kaln didn’t dare take his attention off Emeralaphine to appreciate the architecture.  She now wore a slight frown of consternation, but it was clearly a more bemused than angry expression.  Bless her centuries of relative isolation; if this woman were half as socially smart as she was intellectually smart, he would be hopelessly over his head.

“It gave me a thought,” Kaln continued after a moment in which she did not speak.  “If Izayaroa considers herself ignorant of the subject, it goes without saying that I am much more so myself—and also undoubtedly wrong on a few points, as you pointed out.  So if you would kindly indulge me, Emeralaphine, let us proceed from the beginning with the assumption that I know nothing.  And let me thus salvage a bit of pride when I learn how…misled I may have been.”

“Hmm.”  She finally looked over at him, pensively, but then smiled.  “There’s a measure of wisdom in that, I suppose.  Ordinarily I would very much object to wasting my breath on unnecessary education, but provided you can restrain the urge to argue and interrupt, it might indeed be faster.  Besides, all the nuance and intricacy in magic is in its higher mysteries.  The basics, that which concerns your situation, can be summarized in a few sentences.”

“Perhaps I was less ignorant than I feared, then,” he murmured.

“Perhaps, but…we shall see.  Very well, then!”  She raised her head, and her whole demeanor changed, her expression becoming proud and content as her stride relaxed.  Despite her demurrals, Kaln could not fail to notice that she relished the role of educator.  “There are three things which always occur together: a god, a realm, and a system of magic.”

“A system?”

“Magic is not a system, husband,” Emeralaphine lectured, “but a category of them.  By magic, we refer to any phenomenon by which physical reality can be directly controlled by thought.  Gods are created when a sapient being achieves apotheosis,the process of breaking free of their physical limitations to become a higher-order being.  A godling is, in essence, a god in a larval state.”

“I’m a celestial maggot, then.  That’s humbling.”

She shot him a sidelong glance of mild irritation and continued her lecture without acknowledging the interruption.  “It is a transitional phase: at one end of the process is a mortal, and at the other, a god.  Nearly all of the details of apotheosis are too individual to be categorized.  There is no single, reliable way of achieving it, the nature of each godling’s journey is entirely unique, and the nature of that which is ultimately created at its conclusion likewise.  There are certain commonalities, however, and it is with those that we concern ourselves now.  Over the course of apotheosis, a godling’s ongoing evolution will be shaped by their experiences.  The process concludes when the godling has achieved three things: transcended the need for a physical form, created a unique realm, and created their own system of magic.”

“How long does the process take, on average?”

The dragon shrugged.  “As I said, husband, these things are not so readily quantified.  Based upon what little precedent I specifically know?  Somewhere between a few minutes and a few centuries.”

“I’m…not sure I have that long to work on it,” he admitted.

“Provided that we succeed in protecting you from the various forces in the world which would make it their business to stop the ascension of a new god, husband, you should.  Mortality is the first thing you shed: it would now take substantial magical intervention to destroy you.  It…is not necessarily true that you will no longer age, but rather that your aging process is no longer a function of your body’s cells gradually failing to repair themselves.”

Kaln blinked.  “Is that what causes—”

“Rather,” she continued, still ignoring interruptions, “as you have become an entity strongly influenced by your own perception of reality, you may find yourself taking on a more mature appearance over time as you come to feel yourself a more mature individual.  But to most normal physical failings, husband, you are now impervious.  You will not decay or sicken, and very few strictly physical interventions will do you bodily harm.”

She paused, glancing expectantly at him, and he nodded slowly to show he was absorbing the lesson.  “I see.  All right, then: that leaves a realm, and a system, yes?”

“Just so.  A god’s realm is as unique as everything else about the process.  These are the various heavens and hells, as it is quite common for gods to devote their realms to house the immortal souls of their followers.  Not all, however; in dealing with gods, there are precious few true universalities, so few that I am easily able to summarize them in a few minutes in layman’s terms.  There are realms whose creators are no longer known, serving no purpose save as places which exist—many such, in fact.  There are also gods who keep their personal domains strictly private.”

He nodded dutifully.

“And lastly, there is a system of magic.  This is why the study of magic is so diverse, husband: almost no rules are universal.  Even the most widely-known tendencies have exceptions.  Every type of magic has different strengths and weaknesses, different things it is suitable or able to do.  Every type has different rules for how to access it—different strictures placed upon its use.  There are gods whose magic systems are accessible only to their priesthoods, gods who leave their magic available to anyone who knows how it works, gods who seek out specific individuals to empower based upon criteria specific to their interests, and every conceivable thing in between.  If you ask what is the strongest system of magic, the answer depends entirely upon what you are trying to do.  The question of which mage will win in a duel nearly always comes down to which knows in advance what kind of mage they are up against, and has time to make specific preparations against them.  For a generalist like myself, one who collects every accessible style of magic possible, strength is in versatility.  There are, however, specialists whom I would not wish to challenge, mostly because those tend to have the ear of their patron god.

“It is widely but not universally observed that many gods seem to be empowered by the devotion of their followers, which neatly explains why it is so common for them to build and sustain religions focused upon themselves.  It has even been observed that to deprive gods of their followers weakens and may eventually destroy them, if they become utterly forgotten.  But even to that rule there are notable exceptions, and it is not understood why. If there even is an answer to that question it is unknown to those of us who are not gods, and I strongly suspect it may not be known even to them.  In short, husband: the rules are what you decide them to be.”

She came to a stop.  They had arrived at another small plaza, from which another decorative protrusion extended over the gap to provide a lovely view of the city spread out before them.  The path continued on in two directions on this level and also had staircases going down and up to other terraces.  Kaln indulged in a glance around at the scenery, because he couldn’t not,but kept the majority of his focus upon Emeralaphine, who was gazing at him with clear expectation.

“I’m very glad we decided to do it that way,” he said, giving her an earnest smile.  “For such a simple explanation, it contained a fair few details I did not know, as well as some about which I was wrong.”

A little white lie, mostly there to caress her ego: he had known absolutely none of that, his scant knowledge of magic barely skirting the edges of most of it.  Even that much had so re-framed his entire understanding of gods and religion, to say nothing of mages, that he was having trouble keeping that whirlwind of thoughts at bay so he could focus upon his eccentric, beautiful, somewhat cantankerous wife.  Very soon Kaln would need to find time to sit and think,if only to sort out his thoughts about all this.

“Indulge my curiosity on a point, then, husband.”

“Gladly,” he said with a winsome smile, inwardly cringing.  Crap,she was going to make him prevaricate and deflect, wasn’t she…

“What sort of magical education is available to a court scribe in Rhivkabat?  I gather, husband, that you must have sought out some very unique sources of information, otherwise we’d have been inundated with ambitious scribes looking to rummage through Atraximos’s hoard for years now.  Still, I find myself curious what manner of schooling in the magical arts Izayaroa makes available to her servants.”

Oh, that was much easier than he’d feared.  And, of course, another sign of her rivalry with the Empress.  Kaln was starting to suspect he needed to do something about that, since he couldn’t exactly keep them separate by brute force the way Atraximos doubtless had.  The question was whether he could mediate between them without making it worse.

“Well, there are divisions of labor within the Regency’s operations,” he explained, keeping his relaxed smile in place and lightly caressing the back of her scaled hand with his thumb.  “Actually, a scribe such as myself probably has a more varied perspective of the Empire’s governing systems than most public servants who aren’t at a much higher level.  The Royal Archives handle all the records necessary for the running of an empire, of which there are many; almost everything comes through us at one point or another.  But…well, magic is something of an exception.”

“Oh?” She raised a supercilious eyebrow.

“It comes down to politics,” he explained.  “Not even the Golden Empress is an uncontested power.  Magic in Rhivaak is the purview of the Nine and their faithful.  They not only have enough political influence to keep the Regency out of their business, but the social power to strongly discourage…competition.  There are no laws against most kinds of magic, but unaligned practitioners in the Empire are usually, ah…passing through.  If they try to set up shop, well, the temples have ways to make them feel unwelcome without breaking any laws.”

“Hah,”she snorted, tossing her horned head.  Her expression was an amusing blend of derision and vindication; Kaln really hoped he hadn’t just handed her a fork with which to jab Izayaroa.  “Temple-trained, in Rhivkabat, and they put on airs?  I will make a meal of my own shed scales if any of those clerics know anything more sophisticated than Vaniiri ritual casting.”

“Actually I had friends who served in the temples, but they were very cagey about business,” he said.  “No great loss, I suppose, since I…well, you know.  The Nine are out, anyway.  That being the case, my lady wife, where would you suggest I begin in learning magic?”

“What?”  She whipped her head around to scowl incredulously at him.  “No. Husband, have you not been listening? Magic is the power of gods! To use magic is to invoke one of the few entities in creation which is not only capable of harming you, but may be strongly motivated to do so.  On this matter, I would not trust even the most allegedly benign of gods, nor any system whose creator is believed absent.  No, Ar-Kaln, our focus will be upon developing your own power—guiding the form it takes according to our—that is, your best interests, and ideally finding a way to maximize its strengths and minimize the inevitable weaknesses.  Obviously this shall be a largely experimental undertaking, as the gods jealously guard their secrets and I have no direct experience in such an endeavor, but the breadth of my magical knowledge is significant.  I do not doubt for a second that I have enough theory to set you up with a splendid starting advantage.  But you must do no other magic, husband!  Do not call down the attention of any extant gods.  Avoiding them is by far your best chance of survival.”

Kaln really hoped the sinking feeling which had grown in the pit of his stomach throughout her speech did not show on his face.  He cleared his throat, doing his very best to marshal his expression.

“I see.  Very well…that makes sense, when you put it that way.  And, ehm, on that note…  What would you suggest we do about any gods who are already specifically aware of me?”

Emeralaphine released his hand, stepped away, and folded her arms.  The way she glared at him now really emphasized the difference in their heights, somehow.

“Which one?”

“It’s not really a question of one, so much as…”  He paused, thinking back to the confusing experience of his apotheosis.  The memories were hard to parse, now, consisting mostly of sensations his brain wasn’t capable of processing anymore, but some details stood out clearly.  “…fourteen?”

In fact, he strongly suspected, fifteen.  Eventually, she was bound to find out about the Entity; they all were.  Kaln really needed to be on firmer footing around here before that happened.  They probably wouldn’t throw him out or try to destroy him if they learned what a helpless puppet he’d been for his entire journey, but he knew better than to trust six dragons with one iota more power over him than he absolutely had to.

Emeralaphine closed her eyes for a moment, drawing in a long breath through her nose.

“How in the name of…  All right, let’s hear it.  What did you do?”