99. A Wanderer
Elsewhere, still a ways to go, a great and lumbering four-legged fool was followed by a tiny, insignificant insect hopping behind.
"Night time already, how time flies, eh, little cricket?"
"Heh, time has no hold over me, for I am the Dread Ziriothrax, Devourer of a Billion Souls, Origin of All Evil, Archon of Suffering, King in Crimson Cloth, He Who Lurks In The Dark, The Lord Below, The Malevolence, Plague of Exo Prime, Progenitor of the Dynasty of Blood, The Flaw of Fate, Herald of Extinction, The Cataclysm of Worlds, Emperor of Obsidian Sol!
"Such a base fourth-dimensional thing such as time has no sway over the Great Me, for my Will transcends all dimensions!"
The trees did not shake in response to his proclamation for, despite its apparent swagger, he was at the end of the day, nothing more than a simple cricket.
Twitch.
And a dumb one at that.
Twitch.
"Haah," Jeffbob sighed. "Does not the grandstanding grow tiresome eventually, little cricket? One cannot help but wonder to what extent these proclamations are merely your attempt to drown out the truth of your circumstance: that, despite it all, the heavens still stand. That, despite it all, insects are still crushed underfoot."
Ziriothrax boiled with fury, the very air warping around his tiny figure.
"I have warned you again, and I shall once more. Do not speak of that which you know naught, you mindless thing. Daring to lecture me, from upon your pedestal up high? You say that insects are crushed underfoot then what of me? Entire universes chant my profane name, subjugated by my myriad armies. My conquest is endless, eternal."
Jeffbob shook his head.
"Then it is fruitless, for that which is finite can never hope to overcome true infinity."
Ziriothrax merely grinned.
"If there were any in the Multitudinous Existence who could pull off such a feat, it would be none other than Me! For I am He Who Shall Consume Infinity!"
This time there was a little bit of a pop and crackle in the sky, but truly it was rather underwhelming. Jeffbob, did not pay such things any attention, however, engrossed in his own, blinkered world.
"Perhaps, little cricket. And I await that inevitable moment with bated breath. After all, the first second of eternity has already passed, and all that remains is a twisted loop."
"A twisted loop?"
Ziriothrax asked, his momentum broken by the confusion. Jeffbob, however, had returned to his usual, catatonic state. At least this time he wasn't drooling everywhere, so I suppose it is a small step up.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
As they continued along the path, lit only by the pitiful flickering of the weak and hateful stars above spread out so gloriously upon the obsidian canvas of the night sky, Ziriothrax found his own thoughts wandering similarly. Drawn in all directions, by the states of being that surrounded him. His thoughts soon turned chaotic, each of his minds latching onto a strange, new idea.
Abruptly, a pulse emanated from deep within the core layers, shocking his mind into silence. Shaking himself free from that reverie, he narrowed his insect eyes.
Is that...Class XX? No, it's higher?!
I suppose the lumbering buffoon may have been correct this one time: we enter more than hallowed ground. This is the territory of something truly ancient...and unfamiliar. This is not the stench of an Outer God, but something in a similar vein. Flecked with starlight and loneliness, cleansed of corruptive influence. Something so powerful, so unknowable, yet paradoxically, so weak?
I see...an outsider, and one not just to this universe...Such a thing had long been theorised, but to see it in the flesh...
What terrible form would such a thing take!?
***
At the same time, the blindfolded figure itched behind his ear.
"So then, if you are here, I assume you are travelling somewhere? Please, regale of me your tales. Food and flame is never truly complete with an accompanying story, and that is a truth older than this universe."
The nobleman still seemed shaken by what he had heard earlier, so it was up to Kalzin to speak up. Ignoring the latter half of his sentence, he replied.
"Me and my brother are simple guides for Lord Noble and his guard. We come from a village nearby, so these lands are well known to us. Apologies if we overstepped, we have used this place many times before without running into someone else."
He bowed his head slightly despite Jeropher's frantic gaze.
No, this situation is...strange, true. But nothing more. Just like before, I feel it deep in my gut, that this encounter only hints at danger. But within that hint lies the clues to a salvation far greater.
Wait, how could I know such a thing? Where did such a thought arise?!
With fortuitous chance, or perhaps purposeful timing, the blindfolded man chose that moment to speak up, thereby interrupting Kalzin's spiralling thoughts.
"No need to apologise, Kalzin Talontail, how could I begrudge a fellow traveller such as you from making good use of this place? I made it for that purpose alone, after all. So these are your lands now, I see. It has been some time since I last visited, and much has changed."
His tone held an odd edge to it, hard to exactly pinpoint. Sadness? Or perhaps something adjacent?
"If you don't mind me asking," Kalzin had grown slightly bolder. Or perhaps his amygdala had simply given up attempting to elicit a response and gone on strike. Most likely the latter. "How long exactly?"
The blindfolded man chuckled.
"Well, it's difficult to say for certain. Sometime between a few hours and eternity, I'd reckon."
The grin on the blindfolded man's face clearly belied his amusement. At that moment, the nobleman, having recovered his high-born demeanour after his brief loss, asked politely.
"Sir Voyager, you speak of these worlds out there in a strange manner...as if they are familiar to you. As if you have been there with your own two feet."
"Your intuition is spot on Plutarch Cavitus, many places are indeed familiar to me. If there is one thing I pride myself on, it is being the foremost traveller in all the lands."
The nobleman grew more animated, losing his previous, shaky bearing.
"Then are you what they call..."
His voice became hushed and he leaned closer, causing both Kalzin and Jeropher to mimic the movement.
"A Wanderer?"
For a moment the word hung in the air, before the blindfolded man tipped his head back and laughed out loud.
"Now that is a funny question indeed. I believe you have gotten it backwards my friends. Wanderers, as you ascribe them, are simply what you call those like me."