Chapter: 557 Bonus - Ripples (Patreon)

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Anatalis lifted his great lupine head from where it had been resting against the edge of existence within the Lunar Hunt.

He let out a rumbling laugh as the ripples of power and consternation radiated out through Existence, itself.

Reality got uppity several times a century—most recently only a few months ago, as the superficial tracked time—but Existence? That almost never had to step in and enforce itself, and even then, it was generally because some great power stepped in.

At first, he thought some Sovereign or god-beast had extended themselves to grant a boon. The very idea got his blood pumping, and he started to pant in excitement as that meant he and his Pack could go hunting in a new land while a guardian was weakened

Unfortunately, his Vidarra soon sent him her feelings on the matter. No… this was nothing new. It was old power.

The aura of whoever had caused it was long gone, but the underlying structure of the power had been clear enough, at least to his Vidarra.

So, it was a boon—granted long ago—being tested?

Yes, that made sense.

He laid back down with a harrumph of frustration. If anything, the being whose ancient power had been called upon would be more powerful in the short term, now that their granted boon had been enforced.

There wouldn’t be any good hunting, it seemed.

  *

Vidarra crooned as her wolf laid himself back down against her, their spirits close in a way that brought her great comfort.

She was more connected with Zeme than he, and she liked it that way.

He was their fangs, and she their pelt.

The Pack was a building manifestation of their combined power, and they were almost ready.

Three of her daughters, and two sons were on the cusp of advancing to god-beast. All they lacked was dominion and sovereignty.

She tittered to herself. They were missing only that.

Still, the five were ranging in the Great White North, searching for just that.

When they found it, they would not be so foolish as to claim it, of course. It was already difficult for her and her wolf to keep the others at bay, assuaging their fears of a pair of beings such as them working in perfect tandem.

Oh, how little they knew.

They and their power were not a pair, they were a Pack.

Soon, Zeme would feel the howl of the wolf, and her chosen people would rise.

It seemed that humanity would rise with them, which was a novel idea.

The unwilling ascendant might even take that final step, and when she did, the very foundations of Existence would shake. Never had a Sovereign or god-beast built such firm foundations as that one.

Truly, the next millennia would be one of great change.

Vidarra closed in on Anatalis, not surrounding him completely, but pressing against him more fully.

Those changes were coming, but they were not here, not yet.

She had time to be with her wolf.

She had time to enjoy her bonded, her children, her Pack.

She had time.

  *

Death stirred, and the dead in a thousand cells raged without knowing why.

Even so, the power that had disturbed the comatose Sovereign hadn’t weakened any of the seals.

Their time of freedom would come.

Even though it hadn’t yet, it would.

Death was inevitable.

  *

Dauphin the Enduring groaned and glared toward the south. Someone was rocking the boat again, and that meant more work for him.

Thankfully, another had already responded to the disturbance, so he was spared the irritation of getting up.

Good. He’d been too active of late. If he wasn’t careful, he might actually get invested in the lives he was watching flicker around him, and that was in nobody’s interest.

He wasn’t like that silly wolf, continuing to have spawn of one kind or other.

Dauphin simply was, and he always would be until then end of all.

That was as it should be.

That was enough.

  *

The Arcane King felt his focus drawn briefly to the little island off the shore of the lands that truly mattered.

He had some little power flowing from that place, and one of his favorite toys was easier to find there.

Humanity really doesn’t do well on the mainland… He was always glad that he’d shunted so many of that least-of-all-races to the little ocean-protected land.

It had been ages since he’d visited, even so.

He was still a bit cross that someone had broken so many of his toys, but they seemed to be getting on well enough even so.

Now, though? Someone had poked against a boon, and that meant there might be opportunity.

If it was an ancient boon, then it simply meant that some rising power was testing themselves and learning the rules of Zeme that few ever encountered.

If it was a new boon, then it meant that someone was worthy of receiving such a boon, or—less likely—some old boon had finally been called in.

No matter what, it meant that things were shifting.

He just might need to arrange for a visit in the next little while. It was high time he checked in on the wayward tribes of humanity, after all.

It was always good to check in on his collection—his herd—every so often, and it seemed that he’d neglected that for far too long.

  *

The Hollow Queen gave the smallest of grimaces as she ever-so briefly changed one of her mirrors to a view of some dreary woodland.

Doing so ruined the otherwise infinite progression of her that was forever extending outward in every direction.

She immediately smoothed out her grimace. It wasn’t an expression worthy of her magnificence.

The Mezzanni? Really? She scoffed, the perfect mirror already returned to the only sight that mattered, herself.

It would take her at least a decade to fix the damage done to her face by that single unpleasant expression, and that didn’t even factor in how much she’d lost by breaking the infinite, perfect reflection even for the eyeblink.

She would be seeing echoes of that brief look, and that minute expression for eons to come.

She kept herself from breaking her perfect, slight smile again.

Even so, she let the fire of irritation stoke within herself.

If she ever had the chance, she’d take retribution on the one who disturbed her.

As unlikely as it was, that brown-haired hussy would regret it if she ever crossed paths with the Hollow Queen.

  *

Ra'Drathadaxor stirred as the scattered fragments around him buzzed with a faint resonance. The small, oddly heavy bit of quartz reacted more strongly than most of his horde, but that was to be expected from a piece of undamaged existence.

It seemed that one of the silly ‘advanced’ beings had expended a bit of their power.

He didn’t much care who or why, but he knew that the others who considered themselves potent would be momentarily distracted.

His claws reached out, a thousand tiny rends opening through the void that encompassed the Doman-Imithe, allowing him to snatch little trinkets and bobbles that had caught his eye over the last, uncounted length of time.

Many of his attempts were rebuffed by defenses that he could have pushed through, but he had no need. He gathered unto himself more than enough increase for the moment.

When the opportunity had fully passed, he curled more tightly around what was his, crooning and rubbing his cheek against the little quartz.

Truly, it was proving to be an invaluable addition to his collection.

  *

Mansa the Gold looked up toward the surface.

It had been ages since anything up there had called to him. Even now, this little ripple was barely more than the distant tolling of a bell.

He turned his attention back to what lay before him.

The molten core of Zeme lazily spun beneath his hands as his magic quested through the endless sea of material.

The iron that was primary within the molten ball was annoying in one sense, especially when it bound with that which he sought.

In another sense, however, it was a boon as it allowed him to reflect and extend the range of his own magics without requiring him to swim in the magma himself.

Though, if the whole core was precious materials, he would gladly have so submerged himself…

He nodded once, definitively.

The iron was a curse upon this world.

He considered forging another set of iron dasgannach in order to reduce the amount of that material on Zeme, but it was too much effort, and yielded too little results.

After all, he wasn’t fool enough to create such a thing in the core. That would be tantamount to a second shattering.

He continued to let his thoughts wander as tons of copper, gold, silver, platinum, and other precious metals streamed into his very soul, drawn from the ever-spinning core.

  *

Krol the Conqueror’s body, his existence, twitched in the ripple that radiated out from somewhere on Zeme.

The bindings on his being tightened, and not cognizance, sapience, or even sentience stirred within the long-dead Sovereign.

May the stars never allow that to change.

May the world rust away instead.

  *

Reine of the Deep streaked through the water, enjoying the exfoliation of the salt therein.

He chatted with the sea-life as he passed, only rarely having to swat away the questing tentacles of the occasional kraken or leviathan.

He loved his life beneath the waves, and none would contest him in his domain.

Silly land-bound. They somehow never considered that there was so much more territory under the ocean’s auspices than above the surface.

Regardless, their foolishness was his gain… well, his and that of the few fellows he shared this bounty with, but they generally preferred the deeper portions.

That was fine with him.

He vaguely sensed something happening on the surface, but he couldn’t be bothered with every little blip of power.

The silly surface beings would do what they did, and the ocean would endure.

It always had.

It always would.

  *

The Mountain Kings shifted on their stone thrones, looking toward the northeast, but the matter didn’t hold their attention for long.

It was a thing of forests and boons of those far from rock and stone, metal and power.

They had no need nor desire to waste their time with such fleeting concerns.

  *

Mirza Far Sight leaned forward from where she sat on her bed, shoveling handfuls of buttered, salted, popped rice into her mouth.

What she was looking at couldn’t be seen by anyone else nearby, and leaning forward accomplished absolutely nothing, but she still felt the need.

The elk had decided to engage with a human of all things. True, the human had tweaked its nose just a bit, but she clearly hadn’t meant to.

Mirza Far Sight shoveled in more of her snack.

The current events were so novel that even the Hollow Queen had looked in on the happenings—however briefly.

Mirza Far Sight wouldn’t miss a single moment for all the deep-fried goodness in the world.

She was obviously watching other things as well, but that hardly mattered. She was watching everything after all.

She reached out, trusting her sight to guide her grasp, and she pulled her hand back laden with a masterpiece.

Someone had, indeed, deep-fried an entire chicken, even going so far as to stuff the bird with extra goodness before battering and cooking the thing as a whole.

It had been in a stall alongside a half-dozen others, so she knew it wouldn’t be missed, not really.

Mirza Far Sight would enjoy the puzzlement of the workers if and when they did notice, but that was just a bonus.

She took a large bite and almost closed her eyes in ecstasy, but she’d never actually do that.

She hadn’t closed her eyes in uncounted years, ever since her ascension, and she planned on keeping it that way.

How could she risk missing anything interesting in one of her subjects?

The fact that everyone and everything were her subjects was just a bonus, and drove home the point that she would absolutely miss something of interest if she blinked even once.

Best not to risk it.

She took another bite and shivered.

This chicken really was decadent.

  *

Padishah of the Plains glanced toward the woods before dismissing what he’d felt.

It was no concern of his, and he had enough to be dealing with at the moment.

  *

Basileus the Betrayer grinned as he felt such an old fragment of power forced to the surface.

Someone was stretching their legs in a new world… Well, ‘new’ from their perspective.

New beings meant new prey for him to… help.

He knew his nature better than any, and no matter how loudly he announced his own title, there were always those who wanted what he offered.

In a world where faith to a concept was the hallmark of power, most simply couldn’t grasp the idea that the breaking of one’s word held a power all its own, so long as that breaking was one of spirit, not of actual law.

Even Basileus the Betrayer wasn’t fool enough to cross the titans of Order which enforced the bindings, oaths, and agreements of power.

Only an idiot would draw the wrath of the juggernauts of Existence, after all.

And though Basileus the Betrayer had been accused of being many things, an idiot had never been one of them.

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