The Gamer Chapter 1292 – The Last to Return (Patreon)

Entering the elemental plane of light was an interesting experience beyond most. As beautiful, lush, or impressive as the planes of earth, wind, fire, and water were, they fundamentally consisted of aesthetics that John could find similarly where he lived. Not in quite the same make-up, of course, but in the rough strokes. A forest with leaves of green gemstones was still, fundamentally, a forest.

The realms of shadows and light were different, albeit one remained more distant from his regular frame of reference than the other. Vast darkness, of caves, of nothing, of eternal night and willow trees, all of that was unnatural and charming in its own way, but it still was possible to accomplish in the regular world.

To stand among the constellations, to see them move about as actual forms, animals most of the time, and to walk over the back of a moon-sized crocodilian, that was not to be reproduced even by modern spacecraft. Living stars and distant lights, all illuminated an endless vacuum that extended in all directions. Matters of size were a suggestion in this place. Its vastness was simultaneously endless and confined to a very small area.

This was best illustrated by the Father of Light’s presence, made up, like so often, by a collection of stars. Each of them existed at a different distance to John, yet all of them moved in unison to paint an, effectively, 2-dimension picture of the humanoid silhouette to him. What did others from other angles see, John had to wonder.

“A question,” John spoke, at regular volume, into the void. Wylus turned in his direction for a moment and returned to whatever else he was doing, once he was certain the Gamer was not addressing him.

The ground under John’s feet vibrated, as the truly titanic creature he stood on raised its voice. Whether it was by distance or the odd physicality of this magical plane, the response that reached him was at the same, regular talking volume. “What is it, John?”

“Apparently the Mother of Shadows has organized that there’ll be some kind of… further development of the elemental girls. Do you know anything about that? Or if you’re included in it?”

“Ahhh, I wondered if you would be bestowed that honour.” While Stirwin answered, John sat down with his back against one of the many hill-sized back-spikes of the Celestial Devourer. If a spiritual manifestation could have appreciated a back massage, the constant vibrations of his voice would have sufficed to get one. “To answer the shorter question first: I cannot be included in it. To increase my might further is outside the realm of the Father of Light’s possibilities.”

“I guessed as much.” From what John recalled, and he usually recalled memories in perfect detail, Stirwin was as old as Wylus. They were both spawned in the same breath of elemental creation, which made them junior to very few other elementals.

John found that fact rather interesting. Ordering them by their age, Fade was the oldest, then came Plasia, Wylus, the Mother of Water, Tempesta, and finally Tecta. What was interesting about this order was that they were, ultimately, creations of Faith and thus their order was tied, to some degree, to the intensity humans had contemplated the concepts they represented.

That the Mother of Shadow came first pointed towards the rise of Faith, as a power, being tied to the development of higher consciousness. Animals could be cruel, but the guile, thought, and planning required for the deals and self-indulgence required for what Fade represented was a definitive manifestation of intelligence. Similarly, that fire was the second dated them back somewhere around the time humans first began to utilize that element consciously.

Had the elementals been born before the advent of the modern human species, then Tecta and the Mother of Water would have been the oldest. That was how John thought about it, at least.

What John found interesting was that the Father of Light and the Celestial Devourer were created in the same moment. Both were embodiments of hierarchy and humility, as light spirits tended to be. Perhaps what had caused them to emerge as separate entities, and what had ultimately caused Stirwin to be sealed away for a while, was the difference of their fundamental purpose. The Father of Light was a ruler. The Celestial Devourer ate decadent gods. Both served to maintain a hierarchy.

Possibly, John was just overthinking all of this. All of these events lay so far in the past that they couldn’t be analysed even if they wanted to. The primordial soup of Faith that the oldest magical entities had been created from no longer existed. All that had spawned from it had filled it with rules, order, and their own designs, warping what it once had been – most certainly for the better. Much as he appreciated Stirwin, John was happy to live in a world where such an entity couldn’t randomly spawn into existence, with no shackles or boundaries.

“Well, let’s continue with the longer explanation then,” John requested. “What am I in for?”

“You call them Tiers, most called them stages, in any case you are already aware that modern elementals develop through five instances. Each time, they are granted contact with the essence of the plane by their respective elemental ruler, permanently empowering them by expanding their current boundaries. The fifth is generally regarded as the final stage. Any more, and the soul of an elemental may become too empowered to stay on the other side on a long-term basis. As such, only elementals that are in service directly to the rulers, and thus never to be contracted on a permanent basis, are given the ability to develop further.”

“Sounds like you’re about to tell me about the exception,” John hummed, excited for that possibility.

“Indeed. In select cases, where a summoner has proven that they can hold onto a larger soul, and has gained the favour of the elemental rulers by treating their elementals properly, they may decide to push what is possible to its limits. Sometimes this manifests as minor increases in power, sometimes they are more notable. In any case, it is an honour.”

“I’m looking forward to that then.” John got up, a more symbolic gesture than anything. “Ready to head back?”

“Yes,” the Celestial Devourer affirmed.

John held onto his light spirit’s essence as he returned back to his world. He tried to wave at the Father of Light as he left, but his arms stopped existing before that.

Back in his apartment, John opened his eyes, and saw the almost comically small bit of glowing light rapidly take the shape of a crocodile baby, less than twenty centimetres in length. Before John could say anything, Claire raised her voice in a ramble, “Ohmygodwhatisthatandwhyisitsoadorable?!”

The vampire maid fell to her knees and picked up the hatchling-sized Stirwin, holding him with both hands like someone would hold an incredibly fragile and precious possession. Creating a little squeak, Stirwin got a borderline fangirly squeal in response. Claire put the hatchling against her chest and cuddled it.

“That’s Stirwin, the last of my elementals,” John responded, a little bit jealous about the way the light spirit was allowed to sit between Claire’s petite boobs. Obviously, he could touch those whenever and however he wanted, but he would never be able to be so completely surrounded as the tiny, magical reptile.

For his part, the intellectually reduced crocodile was a tad confused about the depth of affection he was being shown. That was actually something John felt as well, on second order. Claire had reacted with interest and cuteness appreciation towards other animals, but none this intensely.

Heartbreakingly, she squeaked when John took Stirwin from her and placed him on the floor. “Just give him some space,” he requested. They both watched as the tiny hatchling rapidly expanded into a more grown version of himself, notably spikier and a metre long in total. Claire hopped from one foot to the other and dropped on her knees again to give Stirwin a whole series of pats. ‘Claire loves lizards. Noted.’

“I expected Nia to greet me like this,” Stirwin commented, his voice notably higher in pitch now.

“She is eagerly waiting for you; I just told her I wanted to introduce you to Claire first,” John explained. Getting Nightingale into the room as well had been a possibility, but the two already had the pleasure during the three days of attack planning. “Seems like you two are hitting it off nicely.”

“He’s adorable.” Claire scratched the crocodile under the chin. To let her continue, Stirwin gradually tilted his neck backwards, until it was almost at a right angle. “I hear you get even larger?”

“Yes,” Stirwin responded. “I need to reconnect to the Light Shrine first, though. I can maintain this form at will since I absorbed the god of stars. You probably heard all about that already.”

“Yup,” Claire confirmed, more cheerful than usual.

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A couple of days passed without events. The lull of daily life settled back in properly. After over a week of undisturbed return to normalcy, they were all back in their usual ways.

Rave was sponsoring and overseeing various philanthropist causes, spending both private wealth and Collide’s treasury on all the little things a growing society needed. When she came home from work, she usually was more happy than tired. High energy as his girlfriend was, it was difficult to exhaust her, especially when she had the authority to avoid her paperwork.

Aclysia was following her duality of responsibilities, doing her daily household chores with a smile on her lips and a hum in her throat. Putting down the government work had been the definitively right decision for her. She practically glowed, every day, just taking care of everyone. When she was done with her primary responsibilities for the day, she moved to the maid school to further its development.

Nathalia continued to assert her authority over the business world. What that authority consisted of was difficult to pin down. As Patron Goddess, she had a nearly unique kind of influence that could not be denied. Her critics continued to insist that she shouldn’t be involved in the business world at all because of her status. However, primarily, Nathalia asserted herself by virtue of her personality demanding a level of obedience that was, in the upper managerial occupation, quite helpful. What Scarlett assigned her to get done got done, no exceptions.

Eliana was all over the place, as was normal. For various factors, John was of the opinion that she could never live a really regular life. Anything that tried to confine her, she would rebel against and who knew when she got another panic attack. To her credit, she at least tried. Aside from her artistry, and being a good girl, she had picked up a mini job to restock shelves in a convenience store, of all places. One would expect that line of work to further her hate of humanity, and on some days it did. At large, she was just happy to do something useful three times a week. Obviously, her employers knew that her reliability was irregular, but having a person around that could lift more than the rest of the staff combined was worth that trouble. Plus, John had personally requested they be lenient with her. In the current economy, having one unreliable staff member didn’t hurt them.

Gnome did as was usual and muddled her way through being the voice of understanding between the various elemental factions in the Guild Hall. Sure, she was pushed around by everyone, but that usually only lasted until she reminded everyone bullying her that she could still quake an entire sector of the Guild Hall, if she so decided. When the season elemental really wanted something, her peers and charges were listening.

Salamander continued her evil-overlady shtick, governing the fire elementals with an iron fist that demanded weekly death metal parties and impressive lava explosions. In other words, she was having a good time, sitting in her fortress of doom and scaring potential fire elementalists.

Where Gnome governed in broad strokes, Undine took care of all the details. Using her ability to split herself, the abysstide elemental was practically omnipresent in the elemental affairs of the Guild Hall, making sure things were harmonious. Occasionally, she had to excuse herself, to catch a break from ‘the general stupidity of the masses’ and to re-adjust herself. Always, she returned, happy to take on the responsibilities she had wanted.

Sylph also continued to govern the members of her kind that came to visit the Guild Hall. That being said, ‘governing’ air spirits was like overviewing the world’s most harmonious, stable, and chaotic anarchic commune. Sylph was just dashing around the place, wherever her whims took her, and made sure the pranks of her kind remained non-disruptive.

Siena was less focused on the elemental affairs. Shadow spirits were an unruly bunch too, but they were also more withdrawn, typically speaking. Few of them ventured out of the eternal night of their island. Those that craved contact with the inhabitants of this world usually did so by offering their services at the Elemental Brothel. Everyone else hung around in the various corners and waited for something interesting to come to them. Because of that, Siena had enough time on her hands to instead cover the other part of her constituency: the Unseelie fae.

Momo shared the responsibility of overlooking the fae. That was a mostly easy job, due to the rules the Midnight Court had agreed to follow to be allowed to stay. Being clever and capricious creatures, fairies sometimes found a way around those rules or defined words in a mind-boggling way that let them ignore them. Aside from that headache, Momo also had to deal with her duties as chancellor. Ever the work horse, and able to do her job while John slept, she single-handedly diminished his daily paperwork by at least 60%, leaving only the crucial, the unclear, or the unexpected for him to deal with.

Lydia’s responsibilities were as broadly scattered as John’s own. Practically, she had to do even more. From attending meetings, to signing papers, to organizing festivities and allocating funds, the monarch had sheer endless work. As queen, she was head of all three branches of government. She was the highest lawmaker, the highest executive, and the highest judge. Trying to reform herself out of these positions was quite difficult. Being the highest lawmaker meant that she could suggest laws on her own, but they still needed at least popular approval to be enacted in the semi-feudal society she was operating in. Nobles didn’t exactly have a problem with her diminishing her own power, but with the principle being set that they would no longer be the highest lawmaker, executive, and judge for their own corner of Rex Germaniae. Consequently, Lydia continued to chip away at them law for law, visiting when she could.

Nia was writing. Writing and writing, every day, to formulize and expand Fusion’s military doctrines. Because she popped up so frequently where one least expected her, it was easy to forget that she was one of Fusion’s uppermost military leaders, specifically of the special operatives – the kind of powerful individuals that could decide battles on their own. Consistently, she worked on maintaining proper channels of communication with these, often eccentric, people and attempted to get at least some of them together for an occasional group exercise.

Metra was doing what Metra did best: fight. There was always somewhere around Fusion that could use the hand of the First of Wrath. Whether some local law enforcement had come across an issue they couldn’t safely resolve or she just helped train the garrison stationed in the Guild Hall, she was almost always fighting. Some time every week, she spent checking on Ehtra. The First of Hatred was recovering in some form, albeit slowly.

Scarlett’s businesses were booming and she was working pretty closely with Rave at the moment. Something about polishing her public image by sponsoring infrastructure she absolutely never, not in a million years, would profit from herself. One could say many things about Scarlett, a fair few of them negative, but not that she wasn’t efficient.

Beatrice was a thorn in the side of every last official that insisted their department needed more money than they were currently allocated. At this point, her reputation of only giving dry, sassy responses to all but the most urgent or reasonable requests got her the vast majority of official requests off her back. The lack of requests gave her more time to double-check for embezzlements. Fusion’s finances continued to be terribly healthy.

Lorelei’s daily job was ill defined. She was a member of the House of Exceptionals, so she had some of those responsibilities. Being a representative of the Order of the Golden Rose, she often spent a couple of hours there, reconnecting with the rest of the organization. In a line of work similar to Rave’s, but more focused around uplifting or otherwise helping the poor, she organized a few local operations. At other times, she continued the research on how to prevent her eventual complete blindness.

Lee was continuing to study the Fateweaving craft and, sometimes, helped her father and brother during the research of self-perpetuating Mobile Barriers. Once they developed that technology in full, Fusion’s infrastructure could pull ahead of all other Abyssal organizations, despite being stretched over a much larger landmass than most of them.

The day after her initiation, Nightingale got to work on a vast and potentially state-altering project. Much like she had done during the gala, she wished to connect people across the various governing institutions of Fusion, to have them talk and find their commonalities. The potential drawback of this was that a tightly knit administrative class was more prone to exchange quid-pro-quo favours. Trusting Nightingale, John hoped that the desired advantage would manifest more intensely: that people understood each other across party lines. Nothing was worse for the health of a republic than having oppositions that no longer spoke to each other.

Claire, finally, continued her apprenticeship under Aclysia and the other haremettes. She still didn’t have a definitive place and the Gamer wasn’t going to assign or recommend her one just yet. Because of her information gathering capability, he was tempted to have her as his permanent secretary. Whether she excelled at paperwork hardly even mattered, it was just incredibly useful to have her in the room and have a dedicated chunk of her familiars keep watch over the various ongoings on the Fusion Administration island. It was the heart of governance of the nation and no place had to be more frequently inspected for corruption.

As for John himself, he was not doing anything out of the usual either. His mana was returning, day by day, and he was doing as a president did: signing documents, attending parliament meetings, debating things, holding speeches, and getting blowjobs under the table. Granted, the last one was not usually in the list of presidential occupations, and even when it was, it was usually frowned upon. John continued to happily break the norm.

Eventually, the day all of his mana was back came.

And with it started the patch Gaia had promised.