Neophyte World Builder

SENA

Even in her time, Chall had long ago figured out that the moon was an object in the sky. Little else was known about it, but that it was a round and physical object was common knowledge. Sena knew her people had argued about many of the details of its physical composition and what it must be like, but that hadn’t been something she had been interested in.

“If you have a place to stay on the moon in the afterlife, are there people on the moon in the living world as well?” Sena asked, letting her curiosity leak out. It had been over a thousand years, perhaps things had changed.

“No,” Muerve replied curtly. “One of the reasons we choose to meet here is because no mortal souls call it home. You were only brought with me because Akasha insisted upon it.”

Sena had not heard Akasha say anything of the sort, so she just nodded. Silently, she filed away the question, and presumed that the gods—or at least Akasha—had some means of communicating silently when not in the direct presence of others.

The idea of gods was still a strange one to Sena. She had been told about them, of course. Of the many stories that Kenta had told her, several were related to the gods of Upside, as he called the place beyond the Great Barrier. After enough explanations, the concept had finally clicked with her enough that Sena could understand the idea, at least enough to envision it.

Crystalline pillars flanked the road they walked upon, with elaborately tended vines encircling them. She knew they were just spirit-stuff, not truly plants nor even structures, but the appearance gave the place an impressive look regardless. She also knew that Muerve could have brought the two of them directly to their destination, but they had not done so. Sena guessed it to be a petty attempt to impress her.

She idly wondered if anyone had made it to the Great Barrier yet. While she knew what lay beyond it, her people had never been able to get close to it thanks to the Burning Web. Surely someone had at least made it to the foothills in that time?

“Behold, the gods,” Muerve announced, though their dry delivery told her they were none too enthused to have her there. “And one mortal soul.”

Sena knew they were being this way in an attempt to claw back some of their dignity and control of the situation. Muerve obviously respected Akasha enough to listen to her, but not enough to like it. She let them have their moment, since she had no reason to destabilize them further.

Yet.

She was thus far unimpressed by the one who would supposedly handle the deaths of any in the entire world.

“I see,” Sena murmured, stepping forward into the courtyard they had arrived at.

Several of the figures socializing in the courtyard were elves, of course. Kenta had mentioned that, aside from dragons, they were the eldest of the races. She saw one that looked like an aquatic vaskan, two more that were rooken—finally seen instead of merely described—and even some small insect-like creature with an armored carapace. Form mattered little for the gods, she knew that, but she also knew the elves were probably the elven gods that had existed in her time.

She saw no sign of Akasha.

A third rooken was in the middle of the courtyard next to a small garden, where he was making broad gestures with his wings and speaking to one of the elf gods. She was giggling at the bird-creature’s antics, and Sena could immediately sense, somehow, that this rooken was the mortal soul that Muerve had mentioned.

Several turned to look her over when Sena entered, but before she could introduce herself—or let Muerve do it—the mortal rooken glanced over and did a double-take. While the gods were still silently looking her over, the rooken soul chirped and hopped over to land in front of her. Sena stepped back as the large avian swept a wing to the side and dipped his head respectfully.

“Honored progenitor! It is a treat to meet one of the first of the exalted Deep Watch! Twice, I have worked with your descendants in their mission to safeguard the world.” The rooken peeked up. “They call me the Wanderer, and rarely have I wished I could carry a memory into life like I wish to be able to today.”

Sena took a step back, but only one. Muerve lifted one eyebrow as they observed the meeting, and she saw the ears of the elves lifting in what she now knew to be curiosity. Even the gods were startled by Wanderer’s statement. They’d be no help.

“I am sorry, but I am not aware of any mission to safeguard the world. You surely have me mistaken for someone else,” Sena replied with a slight chopping motion of one hand, trying to dismiss the idea. Inwardly, she wondered about that, though. Her soul had taken the same shape as her body, just younger… and she had a very, very distinctive appearance, with all the Stigmata she had selected.

Wanderer tilted his head as he stood up straight—as straight as the rooken could stand—and chirped lightly. “Then perhaps I owe you an apology, my lady. I was informed that I was to meet an old soul from well before the Age of Silence, a contemporary of my First Life. I had presumed you were the Lady Asha, the founder of the Deep Watch and the herald of the Exalted Bloodline.”

Sena felt her tail sway in her ephemeral body. A genuine smile of amusement touched her lips, and she shook her head.

“I am Sena. I know nothing about the Deep Watch.” She waited a moment for Wanderer to sigh, before she added more. “Asha was my daughter. A gift from the System.”

Wanderer stiffened, and Sena felt the pressure of several gods peering at her soul. Most of them, in fact… but for two of the elves, who had a different expression she’d come to associate with humor.

“What is… Deep Watch?” Muerve asked. Sena knew they’d heard the term before, but the god of death had a slight pride problem that kept them from asking things they really should know. The fact that they finally broke down and asked was progress. She could work with that.

Not that she knew what Deep Watch was, either.

Wanderer stepped in to explain. “Oh, my dear friend, this is something you really should know.” The rooken hopped up to one of the stone benches. “Gather round, my divine friends! Hear a tale of how the mortal world handles its problems, before many of you were a twinkle in the world’s eye!”

“How is it that the gods don’t know about this?” Sena asked quietly of the elf girl Wanderer had been speaking to. The petite goddess glanced up at her, then swayed her tail once before answering.

“If your daughter founded the Deep Watch, then it must be Downside. Until recently, all the active gods were Upside.” She gestured at Muerve, who snorted softly but didn’t deny it. “We have only a few souls who spent time on Downside lives. If they never learned of it, then they’d only run into it while giving out Quests. That hasn’t happened yet. Eventually it would have… worshippers filter in knowledge over time.”

Wanderer clacked his beak and spread his wings. “Truly, it was a trying time! The dungeons had only just started to appear, and my First Life learned this… upon death!” He flapped his wings theatrically. “For that is when I became a dungeon! The dungeon of Culling Hive, one of the first in the land!”

A wing pointed at Sena. “And it was her descendants that formed a secret force, the Deep Watch. For as you know, dungeons collect around wrongness… and their operation destroys that wrongness. But what if some mortals interfere with that? What if something happens to keep the dungeon system from working properly?”

The rooken trilled and laughed. “The Deep Watch is how! This organization hunts down and removes any threats to dungeon survival. No one, not even myself, understands their full scope… but a rare few have a distinctive Totem that breeds true. It appears we have met the very first!”

Sena frowned, feeling all the eyes upon her. Muerve sighed heavily and addressed the other gods.

“I found this soul carried ancient memories from ages ago, and awoke them to see what it was.” They grumbled and stretched out their arms, then they too took a rooken form, hopping up next to Wanderer. “It would appear this Crown entity has some power over the souls of mortals. I worry at the irresponsible sort that he is doing such things.”

One of the elves flicked her ears back and down. “I’d say she is more distracted, not irresponsible. She did force herself into sleep for a long while just to fix our problems.”

Wanderer laughed. “My, leaping to their defense already?” The rooken clacked his beak and pointed at Sena. “Perhaps the lovely lady here has some insight, hmm?”

Sena raised her estimation of the rooken several notches when he did that. She had given no indication that she knew Crown, and the bird-soul had put it together that she was associated with Kenta—Crown—purely from the comment Muerve made. Which meant he understood quite a lot more about how things worked than even the god of death.

She found that very interesting.

“I knew him as Kenta,” Sena murmured. “And he does indeed come across as absent-minded. He forgets things, tries strange experiments, and leaves mortals after messing things up with no clue what he is doing or how it will ripple outward.”

She noticed that three of the elves were looking at her oddly, and mentally marked them as the three companions Kenta had told her about. She shrugged her shoulders.

“I find that to be important,” Sena continued. “We are who we are because he hasn’t planned everything out. He wants to see what we do, he likes to see it go in different directions… that’s the point.”

Taking a step back, she gestured around at not just the moon, but the expansive ephemeral world she was within.

“If Crown does something with purpose, you should pay attention and respect it. He likes to let things run, but when he does something, it’s important. I learned that in my relationship with him. I also pieced together who he is… what he is.”

Sena swept a finger over the assembly. “He created all of you. Not just took your soul and put it in a god, but created. He was here before we could speak. He shaped how the world works. He gave you the very power you use over mortals. I was there when he created Spirits. I was there when Akasha first called him father. I witnessed the first dungeon, and remember him trying to explain he made it. I founded the Dungeoneering Academy… and yes, he may seem strange, but I respect him more than you seem to.”

A male elf stepped forward. “We knew him long ago, but as a woman. I think our casual friendliness may have given you the wrong idea. Crown has our own friend within him, but he is more than just her. Sena is correct. His existence is tied to the world itself, not just running it. I doubt he wants you to treat him as something glorious, but you should defer to his judgement and help him however you can.”

Muerve had shifted into a short, stony-faced creature with a long beard. They grunted. “It seems to me that he leaves everything to Akasha.”

And that was when Akasha’s voice interrupted everything.

“You will treat father with respect.”

Everyone turned to the small elf who had appeared at the edge of the courtyard, but Sena saw something was off. Questions died on the lips of the gods, and even the alien-looking bug-thing that had thus far been silent skittered off to the side.

“Everyone. I am taking Sena for now,” Akasha announced. “Things are going to change here. Be on your best behavior with father.”

Sena frowned, but when Akasha held out her hand, she took the small, blue fingers into her palm and held firmly. This time, she wasn’t disoriented at all when she appeared back in the facsimile of her old cabin once more, standing next to the warmth of the crackling fire.

She felt Akasha’s arms wrap around her, and hold firmly without a word.

Many people had called Sena cold and ruthless over the years, but she had raised a child by herself. She could see the signs when one needed comfort. She didn’t know what was wrong, or why the normally playful girl was like this, or why she’d been chosen instead of Reyth.

She didn’t need to.

Sena held the elf silently, as long as was needed.