Ascension

‘Praise be to the gods! They who saved the world! May they forever stride amongst the heavens sheltering us for the end of old and that which corrupts our human hearts!’ Tess rolled her eyes. The seecher’s words rung emptier than her belly. Or at least to her they did. The masses of starving who lived amongst the filth and rot between countless towered streets rose to the seecher’s call.

‘Come! We who survived the end shall celebrate! When the end was upon humanity, was it not Quintos, who held the tide. Was it not Maraona who brought us to safety and the Architeict who motioned the world’s survival! Was it not…’

By the Architect… he’s going to collapse if he keeps that up

The seecher’s skin clung to bone, his face a starved pale. He looked a lot like those who crowded the doors of the cathedral. Yet unlike those who hobbled daily to conserve what little energy they had, the seecher always managed to move like he had eaten the Grumadrige feast by himself, when pronouncing the gods.

Tess would have sworn the seecher was concealing the gifts of Kizarra. It was the only explanation she had behind the seecher’s impossible enthusiasm. It wasn’t like other seechers hadn’t broken their vows of service before. Word from new Nursia was a seecher no more than 5 rises ago had faced Atul’s scythe.

The thought brought a smile to Tess’s face. Good. Lack of food to go around anyway.

Glancing over the hungry faithful to the wayward seecher, his skeleton still elevated above the deadlocked crowd, Tess remembered what made him different. On the day her young soul gleamed the gates of I’risi, the seecher bestowed his own gift of Kizarra to her. The growl of an empty stomach broke Tess’s fond memory.

A tight grip warmed the heart shaped artefact around Tess’s neck as she maneuverer against the crowd with a wicked smile.

The final piece. Today I return the favour. Today I usurp the gods.

* * *

‘Mimir,’ the astute voice laced with authority trailed into thoughtful assessment.’ We are missing something.’

The golden orb, no bigger than a fist, cautiously floated towards its master. Mimir knew to float below head high and to keep a respectable distance; he was after all in the presence of his creator. ‘Are you not perfect already my Architect?’

A brow of ridge steel began to furrow for the first time in centuries. ‘Upon the coming of the end, we gods saved the world. We took what was and cherished it, sustained it.’ The Architect’s words began to draw from a cold place. ‘Yet through dissidence they faltered. With guidance there are still those who refuse. There are even those who corrupt the guidance given. My Guidance! The guidance, I, the Architect set out! Th…’

The Architect paused in self-awareness and promptly adjusted.

I search for perfection in utopia Mimir. Yet utopia is a journey not a destination. And there is no perfection in a journey that is not fleeting… Not yet.’

’Centuries of memories, glided through thoughts of melancholy. ‘I have been patient Mimir. Yet no man or god has ensured the future I crafted. We are missing some…’

A divine silence befell the solitary room. Inspiration had awed the Architect’s mind.

‘Architect?’

‘Yes Mimir?’ the golden orb retreated at the utterance. Something had changed. Mimir could only equate his master’s look to recordings he has seen of beasts native to the forests. Beasts that long ago even his master would have feared.

‘Mimir,’ snapped to attention the perfect sphere watched as his creator began to leave the observatory. ‘I am going to the surface; prepare the ritual for when I return.’ The golden orb chased its creator dizzied by the request. ‘You mean…?’

‘Yes… I am going to save the world again.’

* * *

Quick breaths matched with even faster feet as both raced through the village, rain drizzling against the muck. Every stride Tess took was hampered. The icy air peeled what little heat she created from her bare skin while every drop of water felt like a frigid weight slowing her pace. Tess wished she had grabbed something to cover herself but knew she would have never escaped the cathedral.

Tess finally skated around the last tower just as another piece of the artefact flew from the mob at her heel. Escape was in sight.

Just a little further. Just a little further. They won’t follow me outside the village… right?

Tess had barley thought about her situation; everything had happened so fast. Looking back at the piece of the artefact protruding from the mud and the seechers disgusted expression; tears began to blend with the rain against Tess’s face.

All wanted to do was help.

Doubts and apologies, frustration and anger, repressed emotions began to flood Tess’s senses as her unwilling mind began to ask…

Why? Why!? They were cold… Starving… Suffering… Dying…

Tess could feel something colder etching itself against her heart. Memories of the needless hardship Tess had witnessed and experienced began to squeeze her chest. A blackened void began to consume her person. Tess tried to contain herself. She needed to concentrate and conserve energy however the crushing weight of the void became too much.

‘What did I do wrong?! What did I do wrong…?’ As Tess’s words tailed into silence, a sharp pain pierced her back, throwing off her balance. Tess tried to adjust but a puddle took the mud beneath her and replaced it with water. In a moment of pain and misery Tess fell.

The mob roared in excitement, their pace matching a pack of hungry wolves. Against the mud, her back bleeding, ankle broken, Tess heard the roar and softly exhaled. She was never going to get the answers she sought, so closed her eyes in wait, gripping the heart shaped artefact as tears began to well again.

At least make it fast.

‘What is that?’ asked a voice from the crowd.

‘Gods be…’ The seecher held his tongue. He would not curse a god in the presence of another. ‘Bow before the first! Bow before the Architect!’ Without hesitation the seecher lowered himself into the mud in reverence of the being before him.

Less than a meter above the exhausted Tess suspended amongst the dark clouds and surrounded by a sphere of golden light was an aged man, tall, whose garb came from a place no human had tread.

Tess gave a grim smile as her tears subside out grim curiosity. She wondered why the stories of the Architect never spoke of his wrath, for she knew she had garnered it.

The Architect watched as the faithful prostrated themselves in the mud. The sight was unpleasing. He usher them to their feet then looked to Tess beneath him. It did not take him long to understand what happened and who had drawn him here.

Without moving, oblivious to his surroundings the Architect calmly asked, ‘Female. If you wish to survive, you must answer one question for me.’

Speechless, Tess stuttered to lovingly thank the deity though as she continued to look up, the strangest features began to slowly paralyse Tess with weary horror.

He’s not blinking?

‘Architect,’ The seechers words were humble yet drenched with rage. ‘This woman is a mage. A monster of the old world. Her punishment should be death.’

As the Architect looked back the once expressionless face moulded into vicious anger. ‘You dare recite to ME what her punishment should be. I, who save this world! I, the one who gave you those rules!’

The architects waved his hand. Barriers of golden light followed the motion, surrounding all the faithful, in an impregnable cages. The faithful begged for forgiveness and once again prostrated themselves.

‘Silence!’ With a single word, the Architect had stilled the cries of despair. Tess raised herself from the Mud to see what had happened. To her amazement, the faithful only a few meters away still begged for forgiveness however she could not hear them. Even the sound of the wind and rain had become quite in wake of the Architect’s word.

‘My question is as follows,’ the Architect once again focused his gaze on Tess. ‘Should I set them free or should I leave them there to rot for eternity?’

Tess pondered, her back still bleeding, her ankle still broken, the cold and still peeling away the heat. As she looked upon the faithful Tess wondered if they knew she was in control of their fate. She wondered if they would plead as they do now. Would they forgive her? As Tess pondered her decision she locked eyes with the Seecher. Unlike the others he had stopped begging, instead he chose to glare. Tess tried to see past the anger; she craved for him to show something other than disgust. Yet as they continued to look upon each other nothing changed.

Then without warning the void etched into Tess’s heart and strangely began to make her skin feel warm again.

‘Leave them,’ Tess muttered.

‘Is this your final answer?’

‘Yes.’

The Architect smiled an unnatural grin.

‘You have passed. You shall now become a god.’

Tess’s eye widened, but before she could respond the Architect had already whisked her away. The faith still begging to be released, the seecher still disgusted by what he had raised.

* * *

Disoriented from the transport Tess could barely believe what had just happened. Tess knew she had been covered in mud, she knew her back was bleeding and her ankle was broken yet as she stood, it was apparent none of those things mattered any more. Searching the featureless room of any indication of where she was, all Tess could see was white. Then memories of the of the Architect’s finally resurfaced.

‘You shall now become a god… What does that mean?’

‘It means just that.’

Caught off guard Tess turned to see the Architect materialise before her. The room changed with his presences, the illusion of a pure white room slowly began to fade to a dull grey with intricate patterns seemingly scored into metal walls. Tess recognised the patterns immediately. She opened the artefact still around her neck, it had the same patterns etched into the inside of the metal; Tess had found an ancient book that called them circuits.

‘What is this place?’

‘It is my home,’ the Architect gracefully extended his hand for Tess to follow.

Tess slowly retreated as she remembered the seecher’s teachings well.

‘Isn’t this the magic of the mages?’

The Architect smiled, ‘You are astute however no mage created this room. Now do you wish to be a god or not?’

Tess froze, the Architect’s voice was emotionless and still he hadn’t blinked once.

‘How… How do I know you’re not an imposter?’

The Architect smiled once more and gracefully extended his hand once again. This time however, the illusion of flesh slowly peeled away to reveal the same patterned metal that lined the walls. Tess awed at the sight. This god was truly no man.

‘Do you still think me a mage, human?’ Impatience laced the architect’s words.

In that moment even though Tess still didn’t truly comprehend what was happening or what she was seeing, She extended her hand taking the Architects. The only thought that ran through her mind was how the artefact could have brought an end to the suffering an end to the death. Tess wanted that. She wanted to be that and as a god she could.

I can save them. I can stop the suffering. I will be a god of peace.

‘No human, you will not be a god of peace,’

The void that had etched Tess’s heart crushed what it has scarred in a cold vice as the Architect’s cold hand gripped her wrist, his words responding to her thoughts.

‘You will be a god of Wrath. MY Wrath.’