Guide "Caravanning through Nero"
Chapter 7
Wild Ocean: Some Time Later
This place was difficult to describe in words and even harder to envision. A sphere... It was an absolutely black sphere. In the literal sense, "absolute." And yet this surface was flat, as if it were not closed. But somehow it was still everywhere: above, below, and on all sides around the creat who stood... In the center?
He touched with his finger one of the numerous streaks of light passing through the entire sphere, pulsing, moving, parting and reconnecting every second. Only around the creat's finger did a static, motionless knot of threads form. The creat's eyes were closed, and his forehead showed clear tension. He did not move. And this is no figure of speech; the creat truly did not breathe, and nothing betrayed him as the living humanoid he was... Was he?
Another humanoid approached him silently. He was short and had long ears, which likely marked him as an elf. Though, it's unlikely that elves grow fur on their ears, as he did... Gray hair, a thin beard. He seemed young, yet his eyes were tired and wrinkles covered his face.
-- Any thoughts, Gabriel? -- he said in a steady, quiet voice, but the black sphere completely muffled the sound. Yet for the creat, it was like a clap of thunder: he released his finger and the glowing lines immediately vanished. For a second, the space was plunged into darkness, but then Lis lit his gray hair and illuminated him.
-- Any thoughts?
-- I have already told you all my thoughts. I don't particularly need this immortality of yours; I only need a little help, which you are unwilling to give me.
-- And what do I have to do with that, Gabriel? -- Lis smiled. -- I swear on my life, I would have done everything I could! Therophon doesn't want it. I cannot go against the head of the Pantheon, -- he clicked his tongue several times with theatrical sadness. -- By the way, you settled in quickly. You know, when I first got here and they showed me all these things and tricks... My head almost exploded! -- In the next instant, his hair emitted a particularly powerful flame, and the shockwave nearly knocked Gabriel, who was standing nearby, off his feet. But he held his ground, fortunately ready for such a trick. Lis added: -- See! That's what I'm talking about! You catch on quickly. It would be a shame if your abilities went to waste, vanished into oblivion... Well, anyway. Therophon is gathering everyone; I must take you with me. Let's go, Gab.
-- Therophon thinks too much of himself.
-- Hold your tongue and take my hand, -- Lis replied. They closed their eyes. Opening them again, the two found themselves in a mirrored room. The walls, ceiling, round table in the center, chairs—everything reflected light. But they did not reflect the humanoids sitting on the chairs at the table. Though, they were not humanoids in the full sense of the word.
Everyone was here. Gloomy and proud Therophon. Calm, somewhat cold Nuu. Ore — formidable, terrifying, but somehow not entirely alive... Like a withering old oak. Batoru placed his weapon under the table, then grabbed four mirrored glasses at once with four hands and began to consume their contents. Many others sat at the table; Gabriel didn't even know more than half of them by name... Only Fartlos and Ferlita were missing. Ah yes, Mrak, of course, was also absent. From the words of the others, Gabriel knew that Mrak was different, of a different nature, although they hadn't explained further yet. However, the creat had access to the Orb — that same black sphere that projected part of what happens on Nero into the "user's" consciousness. This meant Gabriel could figure it all out himself; he just needed a little time. And a bit of rest for his head, which was swelling from all this.
-- Ahem-ahem, -- Therophon coughed to draw attention. -- It seems everyone has gathered. So, let us welcome our newcomer, if any of you haven't seen him yet. His name is Gabriel, and he currently refuses to take a
normal name—one that would sound proper not only among hippies but be fitting for a mighty, immortal being. However, due to a complete lack of magical abilities, he doesn't exactly pass for an immortal being, -- he concluded sharply. A wave of whispers, chatter, and even loud exclamations rolled through the hall. Some were betting how many years this new "immortal" would last before catching a cold; some cursed fate for once again granting an ankh to a magicless being. There were, however, those who tried to defend Gabriel. Lis stood nearby and simply smiled cunningly, but the creat was grateful to him just for not participating in this stormy outpouring of words. To Gab's credit, he bore everything calmly. At that moment, the head of the Pantheon raised his hand, and silence fell instantly.
-- Yes, our newcomer is clearly no gift for us. In recent centuries, we established an unspoken rule to help each other so that together, through joint efforts, we could maintain our cults and stand against various threats. We immortals cannot be killed by ordinary means, and therein lies our greatest strength, but people can stop believing in us... These ankhs amplify our abilities—those we have from birth and those we acquire later. This allows us to spread our cults on Nero and maintain them directly. Those among us who, like Gabriel, simply possess no magical talents, find that the ankh has nothing to amplify within them. They cannot earn sincere worshippers or those who will perform rites in their honor, and therefore they are allotted a normal humanoid lifespan and nothing more. Such as he steal ankhs from the more talented and capable, and then hang like dead weight around the Pantheon's neck until they finally die. And yet our ethics do not allow us to exile him. However unpleasant it may be for us, he is now one of us. So now, -- Therophon took a glass. -- Now let us celebrate! Let's drink to the health of Gabriel-the-loser! Just don't drink everything at once; we still have an important matter to discuss!
At these words, true bacchanalia began in the camp of the immortals: everyone grabbed glasses and began insatiably consuming their contents, actively pairing it with food. Gabriel did not eat; he only reflected. Eventually, he turned to Lis, who was eating and drinking no less than the others:
-- I think I can leave now. Forgive me, but this is no time for fun.
-- Hey, wait! -- Lis grabbed the arm of Gab as he started to stand and sat him back down. -- This is only the first part. Therophon didn't gather us just because of you, buddy.
-- I don't think anyone here will be interested in my opinion.
-- Well, I will, for example. Legends are told about the prudence of creats! Why not listen to one? Moreover, you'll find it interesting yourself.
-- What will be interesting?
Lis leaned conspiratorially toward Gabriel's ear and spoke aloud:
-- Therophon wants to speak of Tritamat!
-- I've heard something like that, but...
-- Ha, ignoramus! Tritamat is a unique book, as ancient as our Therophon. It is packed with ancient magic. It practically doesn't tear, doesn't decay, doesn't wear out... But most importantly—it can serve as a means of communication between the mortal and the immortal. A direct and unbreakable link! A mortal possessing it can use this link for their own purposes. No immortal will refuse a request from a mortal if it is transmitted via Tritamat. In turn, this is of great benefit to us! For such a mortal becomes your best adept; he will never, ever betray you, will obey your will without question, and can convert many to your faith... Therophon gathered us because there are some problems with Tritamat. He didn't tell me anything, but I fear the channel may have been seized by one despicable type, Fartlos. Have you heard of him? -- Lis added mockingly.
Gabriel stood up.
-- That changes everything! I need to...
-- Now where do you think you're going? You won't get out of here anyway without my help.
-- True...
-- Let Therophon finish the meeting, then I'll help you. In the meantime, eat, drink, be merry! -- Lis threw up his hands and began to follow his own advice.