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Malcolm Tent
Malcolm Tent

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Wish upon the Stars chapter 1035

We emerged from the portal back out of the council chamber, into the same hallway we’d entered from. The council was waiting for us. As were my parents, my grandparents, and several other people, including the Moonlight Pope and Uncle Sam. As soon as we stepped out, my mother rushed out of the crowd and scooped Callie and I into bone crushing hugs, one arm each. “You’re ok! Oh gods you scared me out of my wits. You couldn’t have been more descriptive?”

I shrugged. “Sorry ma, character limit.” I pulled back and withdrew a small booklet of black stone from my ring, engraved with a list, and tossed it over to the nearest S-ranker without even looking at who it was. “Might want to check up on everyone on there,” I advised.

He nodded, and I turned to look at the others. “Look, I’m just…this was a lot. I know there are going to be questions, but can we keep it to the absolutely necessary stuff? I just want to sleep for ten and a half weeks.” My head was still fuzzy, and the longer I went like this, the more exhausted I became.

“Good and bad news on that front,” said Desmond. “We won’t be needing to ask you anything. But someone will.” He jerked a thumb at where Aiden was waiting nearby.

The blood drained from my face. Not because I was worried about talking to Aiden. Because I knew he wouldn’t have wanted to question me. No, if he was here to get me, it was to take me to see someone else. “Twice in as many weeks,” I croaked, my voice shaky. “Must be some kind of record.”

“Don’t you just feel like the luckiest kid in the world?” Aiden grinned ruefully.

I turned back to my parents. “Seems like I have some facetime to get to with the old man. Don’t wait up, ok? I’m sure Aiden will get me back safe and sound. Just…” I glanced at Franklin and Callister. “Don’t let them get killed before things are sorted? I made promises, and if I’m going to fail to keep them I’d at least like to be around for the fallout.”

My mom nodded solemnly. “Anyone who wants to hurt them will go through me. By which I mean they’ll have to go through your grandmother. And woe betide any lunatic stupid enough to pick that fight.”

I barked out a laugh. “The old man himself would think twice. Thanks ma.” I leaned in and gave her another hug, then turned to Callie, wrapping my arms around my wife. “Thank you,” I murmured in her ear. “I’d have been dead without you.”

She smiled softly, leaning her head on my shoulder. “I took a vow when we got married. To keep your dumb stunts from killing you. I’m paraphrasing, of course, but that was the spirit of the agreement.” She winked at me, then stepped back, her face turning solemn. “Answer whatever questions you feel comfortable with. Nothing else. When you’re done, just leave. I don’t care what he’s the god of, I won’t have him pushing you further than you’re ready for.”

Her tone was iron, and I knew every person here understood the implicit threat. If the old man pushed me, we had gods in our corner too. I wasn’t actually sure what Atlas could DO if push came to shove, but considering what my mother had been able to do to an S-ranker when channeling that gem, I had to wonder what kind of power my S-ranked grandfather could wield doing the same.

Aiden chuckled. “Wow, she’s even scarier than my wife. Don’t sweat it, kid. The old man doesn’t take care of things like that by hand. If he wanted Shane dead, he’s got dozens of ways to make it happen without anyone ever finding out. He just wants to talk. He has questions. If it makes you feel better, most of them don’t have anything to do with this little kerfuffle.”

I reached down and squeezed her hand reassuringly, then followed Aiden down the hall and into a maze of corridors, not bothering to remember the route as he led me to the library where we’d found the old man last time. The core of the Wishworld.

Pushing through the doors, we entered that same immense chamber of books, and walked to the same table we’d met the Wishmaster at last time. Sure enough, he was still there, surrounded by books. He was writing in a pair of empty bound titles, each hand moving independently as he told two different stories, but he stopped as we approached.

“You can go,” he told Aiden bluntly. “I’ll summon you if I need you.”

There was no kindly old man or absent-minded scholar in that voice. Only power. Certainty. The assumption of obedience. Aiden nodded, then shot me an apologetic smile and left.

Once he was gone, the Wishmaster’s gaze pinned me to the spot. “You killed one of mine. Spared another who my charter said should die. Took responsibility for a pair of traitors. What exactly do you have to say for yourself?”

I stared at him. At my ancestor, the original Wishmaster. At a god in human form. I expected to feel awe, fear, maybe gratitude, but all I felt was…anger. My hands shook with it, the hot roiling mass of it rose in my stomach, scraping the back of my throat as I spilled up my neck like bile before erupting from my mouth in a furious hiss of molten rage. “FUCK YOU!” I spat so hard I was afraid my teeth would crack.

“Interesting approach,” he observed idly. “Show your work.”

“Bite my ass you self righteous piece of shit,” I hissed. “How DARE you? How dare you do…THIS, while we all fight and suffer for you. How dare you speak of Roland’s death like you aren’t complicit! Like it wasn’t YOUR fucking fault I had to kill him! How dare you sit in here while we all scramble to react to problems you could solve with a snap of your fingers.” I was crying. And shaking, and my hands were clenched so tight if I hadn’t been wearing gauntlets they’d probably be bleeding. But I just couldn’t care.

He’d just…sat here. The whole time. Watched it all happen. We were in HIS world. He could have stopped it. Could have intervened. But he did nothing.

I was so sick of it. So sick of apathetic gods who ignored their descendants and worshippers and left us to fend for ourselves. Of lofty immortals who treated us like errand boys and tools without caring about what we felt or thought. They weren’t human, I knew that, but I was sick and tired of watching them act like we weren’t either.

He stared at me for a long minute. I seethed. “What?” I demanded. “What do you WANT from me?” I was crying so hard I could barely speak. “What does anyone want from me? Why can’t you all just leave me alone? Why do I have to deal with so much?” I fell to my knees, palms resting on the floor as tears blurred my eyes. “Just…make it quick,” I said tiredly. “I don’t care anymore.”

“Hmm, you got there early,” he observed lightly. “Usually takes another couple centuries. Admittedly, you’ve ended up under an outsized amount of pressure. Makes sense you’d fold quick.”

I sniffed, glaring up at him. “If you’re going to smite me or whatever at least have the courtesy not to make me listen to your fucking mockery.”

He sighed wearily. “I’m not mocking you, Shane. I’m empathizing. Or trying to. I’m out of practice, I’m afraid.” He leaned back, staring down at me. “Tell me,” he said softly. “What makes you think I didn’t intervene?”

I yanked my mask off, spitting on the floor as I angrily swiped at my tears. “Because you didn’t!” I snapped. “Someone would have noticed, even if wasn’t me!”

“Really?” he said idly. “Who?”

I froze. He hadn’t put any special emphasis on the word, or stressed the sound in any notable way, but I could HEAR it. Under the comment. The sound of a familiar creature making a familiar sound.

“The OWL?” I sputtered. “That was you?”

“Well honestly,” he scoffed. “Who else did you think it was?”

I frowned. “But I thought The Quiet Room was godproof. No one is supposed to be able to intervene or sense what happens in there. Not even you.”

“Ah,” he said sagely. “That was a lie. I don’t build things that inhibit ME. I’m not an idiot, Shane.” He leaned back, and to my utter shock, I saw him cringe, adjust his body to favor one side in his chair. He saw me noticed and gave me a wry smile. “Taking on two gods who have prepared so thoroughly is no easy task,” he said with a sad smile. “Not even for me. I admit, I was a tad sedentary about my observations of the palace. But since the battle, I’ve been recovering.” He leaned back, lifting his shirt a bit to reveal a patch of horrifically burned skin weeping a strange red pus. “They sucker punched me with that toxic muck. I don’t know where they got divine souls, but there was a drop of divine energy in there. Must have found soul shards from some dead god or other.”

I felt all the rage and scorn drain out of me as I looked as the festering wound. I wished it would come back. I felt small without it. Fragile. “But…but you’re white Wishmaster. You’re a god.”

“So was Raxus,” he said patiently. “So was Suvaya. That is not dead which can eternal lie, and with strange aeons, even death may die.” He said, with the air of someone quoting a favorite passage from a book. I didn’t recognize it, but I understood the gist.

I wished I didn’t. I’d been happier thinking he was apathetic. Knowing he could be hurt. Really hurt. Or even be killed. It made this all too real. There was no barrier keeping this away from me. The war was at the gate, and I could be swept into it at any time. Had been swept in. “If I arrange things with the Lady and Verdyn,” I said slowly. “Will it hold up? Can I make an alliance? Will the rest of the six honor it?”

He nodded. “Once you take office, you speak with my voice. The youngest will do as they’re told, and the Queen and Emperor won’t gainsay me without compelling reason. Of course, their worlds must remain in the Void. They can’t be anchored to realspace, otherwise this whole war has been for nothing. However, there ARE other options. There are places in the Void where a world can be anchored. You’ll be visiting some on your journey. Keep an eye out for potential locations. I’m not against aiding a campaign to capture a few stable pockets of space.”

That was…interesting. I wondered if that had always been an option, or something about the birth of the Void god had changed the game. Either way, I was just relieved. There was a chance this could all turn out ok. For some values of that word.

“Feeling a bit better about all this?” he asked me with a chuckle. “You certainly seem to have relaxed.”

I nodded. “I am. Not GOOD. But better. I’m just…I’m tired. Can I go?”

His expression changed, going from somewhat kind to a wolfish grin. “Oh not yet,” he said quickly. “You aren’t going anywhere.” He gestured for me to sit down, and I did, climbing slowly to my feet as I suspiciously pulled a chair out. Once I was done, he steepled his fingers, elbows on the table as he stared at me intently. “Now, with the big stuff out of the way, why don’t you show me this Domain of yours.”

Comments

Always nice when good old Lovecraft pops up. I wonder if the void will have any of his monsters

Jachin Nelson

The old man never pretended to be a humanitarian. The things the others told Shane about him are true. But his self interest includes the clan to an extent, so he WAS invested in what was going on.

Malcolm Tent

So he just interested in shane domain and wanted to prove to him he actually cares about the chosen ones TBH that logical and valid one don't waste their efforts on clones or extra work

Redeyes Eclipse


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