Elysium's Multiverse

Chapter 199

Chapter 199

A child of the Scythe, and a botched creation cursed by madmen. That is who and what Frimrindle truly was.

The stick-thin scarecrow made of metal hung on a cross of his own making. It remained absolutely still, just as it had done for the past many millenia - not moving a single millimeter while contemplating the mysteries of life. In his left hand, an unlit steel lantern hung loosely at his side. In his right hand, a simple scythe was held - showing now markings or any semblance of just how powerful the weapon was. A creepy smile with a hinged metal jaw hung slightly open, exposing an abyssal hole into the back of the scarecrow’s throat - and two X’s carved into the otherwise featureless face of the scarecrow signified its eyes.

Fimrindle watched in silence, peering through the void and into other nether realms where his potential contractor was speaking to a winged devil much bigger than he was. The soul clone, which Riven still did not know the true nature of, was fascinating to him beyond anything Fimrindle had seen in quite some time. He only hoped he got the opportunity to examine it in more thorough detail, and now that Riven had begun interviewing candidates for his demonic contract slot - Fimrindle’s interest had hit a peak.

Meanwhile the devil, named Chavi, was boasting of his conquests with wings spread and aflame. It caused the skies around it to crash with false power, as in your own nether realm anyone could be akin to a god.

Fimrindle wondered why the boastful creature was so infatuated with war. What was so great about killing things? Fimrindle had learned the hard way that it wasn’t fun and games like he’d been led to believe in the beginning, and it came rather easy. Why did Chavi think it a glorious pursuit? Fimrindle didn’t understand. The way the titanic red ape with wings wielded that silly axe around was more for show than anything else, but then again - Fimrindle couldn’t necessarily judge the demon. He knew very little about social norms and cues, and this in turn was perhaps the largest reason why he’d been banished to this soul stone. He’d thought he’d been playing a game when he’d murdered all those people. Fimrindle was akin to a small child in that aspect, a soul being ripped apart and formed anew so many times that he had a hard time grasping any of his previous memories over past lives.

The one thing he did remember in vivid detail was the aura of the great spirit that haunted his dreams. The spirit of the Scythe was… observant, as was Fimrindle in turn. They watched each other in an endless cycle of silence, while the worlds around them passed Fimrindle by.

The iron scarecrow continued to wait patiently. Ever patiently. He did not move, locked away in a cube of energy. He did not rust, he did not rot, he merely waited - having been here an eternity already for the day that someone would meet the qualifications he desired. For Fimrindle was not driven to act for his freedom by anything in particular unless certain qualifications were met, but he was very patient, and unless he found what he was looking for - why bother leaving this place? It would otherwise only mean a repeat of what’d happened the first few times in the world above that’d so long ago forgotten about his existence outside of legend.

He did not blame his world of origin though. He just didn’t understand. He wished he did, and perhaps Riven would be the one to teach him just what he’d done wrong. Perhaps Riven could be the one to provide Fimrindle insight into the thing he desired most.

But his thoughts were interrupted by the presence of another, and to Fimrindle’s mounting curiosity - Zrogmanthon, the Abyss-Lord and fellow demon of Riven’s final round, had somehow entered his soulstone prison from across the cosmos.

The creature was akin to an enormous black mist, but shifting claws and a grinning mouth full of teeth could be seen like static through a fog when the abyss-lord entered Fimrindle’s tiny home. It circled the scarecrow made of metal, letting out a low chuckle while Riven continued to speak to Chavi the devil in another nether realm.

“Ah… little scarecrow… You aren’t in a true nether realm. You remain here instead… a fatal mistake when combined with the fact that you are competing with someone as great as me!.” Zrogmanthon the abyss-lord hissed, causing the soulstone to shudder and crack as its black eyes greedily gazed upon Fimrindle’s stone-still body. “Trapped in a weak prison such as this? How have you not left yet? A demon like myself would have broken out of such a place eons ago… but you, you’re still here. How… exciting! To think that I’d be able to travel through ripples in the void to take care of the competition!”

The prideful Zrogmanthon cackled and threateningly ripped a hole in space, exiting from a black hole to squeeze into Fimrindle’s home. Enormous black claws, six arms, a body made of shadow and a shrouded, almost featureless face came forward - smiling at the much smaller Fimrindle and rearing to its full height. “How is it, knowing that someone so lowly as you will be devoured by one as great as me? Have you ever experienced pain before, little scarecrow? Because pain you will have… and your dying screams will be the foundation of my growth! I will display your body before my new master and show him that I am the greatest of the five he has chosen to consider!”

Zrogmanthon let the words echo through the cube, his very presence causing the soulstone to break apart rapidly around them - shadow mana radiating across his body and passing over the much smaller, human-sized scarecrow beneath him. “Do you have any words for me, abomination?”

Fimrindle had remained motionless this entire time. He remained hung to a cross, scythe in one hand and unlit lantern in the other, staring into nothingness as his mechanical jaw hung part way open.

Zrogmanthon frowned, tisking in irritation after five or so minutes of hovering over the other demon with an intimidating aura billowing out. Fimrindle seemed to be unaffected by the display entirely despite the soulstone cage quickly deteriorating. “I see you’ve been driven into speechlessness by my prowess… Understandable. If you cannot escape a place such as this and cannot form your own netherrealm despite what you are, you deserve to be shocked into silence.”

The abyss-lord raised one clawed hand, and space itself tore open as his hand shimmered in the darkness. “You are by far the weakest of us five, and I am doing you a favor by not allowing you to embarrass yourself. Be grateful, fledgling, for your path will act as fertilizer to my own.”

Still the scarecrow didn’t move, but a ping of power caused Zrogmanthon’s head to abruptly shift right when the image of some ill-defined entity tore through reality beside him.

Zrogmanthon, being an abyss-lord and a creature who could control spatial powers, was shocked. He didn’t know what that was, but something immensely powerful had just-

Zrogmanthon turned his head right when another blip of power was sensed near the scarecrow, and to his shock - the scarecrow was gone. So was the cross he’d been hung to. How had Zrogmanthon, as great as he was, not sense something like the disappearance of his-

Zrogmanthon died.

The abyss-lord didn’t even have time to scream,and his body shimmered and faded away while the soul stone prison began to reconstruct itself. Fimrindle was back in his motionless spot in the middle of the cube room, hanging on a cross with his scythe in his right hand - his jaw slightly unhinged - and his lantern in his left. Though this time, a small light in his lantern was seen repeatedly blinking until it finally winked out - leaving the room in the same state it’d been in only moments ago before Zrogmanthon’s interruption.

Going back to contemplating and meditating on the meaning of life while simultaneously observing Riven’s proceedings; Fimrindle waited for the fated moment that he would meet this ‘Riven Thane’ character for better, or for worse.

***

Yattazi stirred, becoming restless as she felt a new entity enter her nether realm. It’d been a long time since something had been allowed in, and the disturbance was… pleasing.

Lonely and hopeful, the gigantic serpent began to worm its way out of the volcano it’d constructed its nether realm around - a very similar one to the real version she was hibernating in every one in a while when out of the nether.

If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.

Gills along the serpent’s head flared, and molten eyes opened. Rising up towards the heavens, Yattazi broke out of the lava pit to display her majestic figure to the one who would potentially claim her as a friend.

Spines protruded from her back, dark gray scales even harder than most dragons covered her large body like armor. Frilled ears flared out to either side of her head, and lava poured down off her body as her head began to lower to get a better look at the summoner.

The man was small, many dozens of times smaller than she was, but she did not mind. She was just happy to have someone to converse with, and she gave an excited hiss while boulders and islands in the lava pool were washed away amidst the rising of her glorious figure. Large fangs on the snake were put on full display in an effort to show her potential master just how amazing she was, the teeth crackling with chaos energy in flickers of deep gray - and a molten inner core flared to life with orange and red hues inside the back of her throat.

“Welcome, vampire, to my lair…” Yattazi hissed rather happily, her body trailing out to rise and fall amidst roiling waves of magma behind her as she hovered over the tiny figure below. “I have been expecting you, fellow follower of the unholy path. We have much in common, you and I… and I am hoping that you may join me in my quest to feed.”

The vampire stared up at her with his other two minions, curiously shifting his head to one side. “Yattazi right?”

“That is one the great system calls me…” Yattazi hissed excitedly. “No need to tell me yours… I already know it, Riven Thane of the Blood Moon Requiem. I have many questions, and many answers, to share with you on your road to power; and I hope it is me that you choose for your new minion so that we may one day become friends.”

***

Riven stood at the edge of the volcano’s basin, looking up at a creature that towered over him with an absolutely majestic yet simultaneously intimidating figure. Dark gray scales, enormous spines over the top of its head, magma-infused eyes and a maw that could swallow a small car in a single gulp. Splashing in the magma pools behind the creature, its long body splashed around and writhed like a sea serpent for over forty yards - and the flaring, fin-like ears coming out either side of its skull only added to that impression.

Yet even despite all this, he could feel only a fraction of the heat that he’d have expected. Nether realms, especially individual ones that weren’t shared between demons, were rather tricky in nature and didn’t have all the properties that a normal realm would have. But even so, it was quite something.

“Nice to make your acquaintance, Yattazi.” Riven said with a smile and a small bow. “I would very much like that. Becoming friends with my contracted demons is far preferable to having servants, as both Athela and Azmoth can attest to.”

Azmoth grunted his acknowledgement, and Athela slyly smiled while shifting forms into her blood-weaver body - then hopping up into his arms to let the vampire cradle her.

Yattazi hissed, a serpentine tongue flicking out between her lips as her mouth closed and her head came forward to more closely evaluate the spider in Riven’s arms. “Yattazi knowssssss… Yattazi sssssees. It is why I have attempted to contract with you, as I am very impressed with not only your power, but your relationships concerning your chargesssss. However that is not all I desire, as I also wish to explore the multiverse and find new foodsssss to consume. I am ever hungry.”

Riven paused, frowned, and continued to stroke Athela’s little spider head as she gave the snake a curious look. “For someone as big as you, and if what you say is true, how do you keep yourself fed? If you really kill that often, would you not be a far higher level?”

The great serpent seemed to frown. “There are many pathways to growth aside from devouring otherssssss. I have devoured many other creaturesssss, it is true, but many of them were far weaker than I - and I have alsssso grown in size through means of meditation over millenia while I wait for my world to repopulate from the last great feeding. Insight into the dao is one of many pathways to growth.”

“Oh. Got it. Just curious.” Riven shrugged. “I likely do have a lot of people for you to eat if you contract with me. Thousands probably.”

Yattazi’s molten eyes gleamed brightly and the frills along her head immediately flared wide. “Really!? What manner of creaturessss are we ssspeaking of!?”

“All kinds.”

“Indulge me!”

Riven thought about it a moment. “Well there are numerous invaders headed out way on the integration of our world. We have to hunt down a bunch of other vampires, there are no doubt human invaders, some azag insectoids if you know what they are. There are a bunch of cultists I need to kill too, concerning a certain world quest.”

“Anything large?”

“How large we talkin here? There’s a quest for snow giants, and as long as they’re not actually made of snow they might be up to par with what you’re looking for. They might even be larger than you.”

The snake nodded eagerly with a loud hiss that cracked the air, hungrily, dripping venom from exposed fangs at the thought. It was obvious this monster was rather gluttonous in its own right, perhaps it’d gel nicely with his sin shards.

Athela held up a leg. “But wait! Are you really always that big? It’s going to be a nightmare walking around with you that size! Can’t you reduce your power output and-”

Athela’s words were cut off after the large serpent blinked, and in a flash the enormous creature’s bulk warped. Floods of magma roiled and tore into the sky while the deep gray scales of the creatures condensed and morphed. The large body began to shrink, condensing further and further while simultaneously removing some of its inborn power that it began storing in a growing black-orange orb swirling amidst the bubbling waves of lava.

Seconds later the titanic snake had gone from half the length of a football field and able to swallow a small vehicle - to something more manageable.

Athela curiously peaked out over the edge of Riven’s arm while she and the others all stared down at the now tiny creature, and her spider leg scratched at the top of her head in confusion and amusement. “Well I didn’t mean become a slug.”

“I am no mere slug! I am Yattazi, devourer of all that movessss!!! My body and energy are merely contained!” The tiny creature called back, hissing in annoyance and slapping the ground impatiently. “Redact your insssult tiny spider!”

Athela flatly looked down at the other demon. “You a slug.”

“It issss not so!!!”

“An uggggggly lil slug. You look like one of those really nasty dumps I took the other day-”

“YOU ARE MERELY JEALOUSSSSS OF MY GLORIOUS FIGURE!!” The spines on the small, pudgy snake protruded out further in an attempt of intimidation that just… didn’t work, concerning this form.

Riven began to grin in amusement as Athela teased the once enormous, and now quite small monster beneath him. Yattazi had transformed into a rather majestic, but much smaller version of itself from earlier. Instead of spanning a couple hundred yards and being a mean killing machine that screamed death to those opposing it, the monster was now a three foot snake instead.

It still looked damn vicious though, Riven didn't know where Athela was getting this 'slug' thing from. If he didn't know better, he'd guess she was just antagonizing Yattazi for the sake of antagonizing her. The other demon was certainly becoming rather enraged by Athela’s taunting though.

“I AM MAGNIFICENT!” Yattazi hissed with another smack of its tail.

Athela shook her head in mock disgust. “Slug girl. That’s what I’m gona call you if my glorious master agrees to your contract. Fear not - even despite your slimy complexion he has been known to be a charitable man, so perhaps he’d take pity on you and agree to terms.”

Yattazi glared molten daggers Athela’s way, then she spit a glob of what Riven could only call gunk at the spider - smacking her in the face. “BEGONE!”

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!” Athela wailed and writhed in Riven’s arms, dramatically wriggling her legs around to produce a sigh from Riven.

“Athela we can barely feel anything physical here. Stop being such a drama queen.”

Azmoth agreed with a sagely nod. “Yes yes. Agreed.”

The spider in his arms immediately stopped wailing and glared up at him, wiping away the snake glob and flinging it to the nether realm’s floor. “Fine! Next time you get smacked in the face with goop, I’m just going to roll my eyes at you too! HMPH!”

With that, Athela hopped out of his arms and began to strut over to Azmoth before climbing up her leg and depositing herself on the larger demon’s shoulder - giving both men a sideways glare before turning her nose up and clicking her mandibles.

Riven raised an eyebrow. “Why’d you hop perches? You do realize that Azmoth agreed with-”:

“QUIET PLEBEIAN!” Athela pointed a quivering leg his way. “DO NOT DARE ENCUR MY WRATH!”

Riven opened his mouth to reply, but snorted and kept his smile hidden from his minion-turned-lover while folding his arms and facing the snake again. He’d not expected to see a shrinking ability, and if he had known Yattazi would have a shrinking ability he’d not have expected something like this. “You don’t look like a slug Yattazi, you just look… small. Still intimidating though."

“THAT’S CHEATING RIVEN!” Atheal squeeled from Azmoth’s shoulder with a glare. “You’re not allowed to tell other girls they’re intimidating!"

“She’s a vicious demon snake.”

“AND I STARTED OFF AS A CUTE LITTLE SPIDER, LOOK HOW I TURNED OUT!”

“Oh for crying out loud…” Riven rolled his eyes - flashbacks of how he and Athela used to be in Negrada coming swiftly to his mind with a fond warmth. He had to fully turn his back on the glaring arachnid - interposing himself between her and the still angrily hissing snake to get Yattazi’s attention again. “But let’s talk more about you. What do you like to do for fun?”

The snake stopped hissing, blinked, and smiled. “For fun?”

“That’s right. You want a friend, yeah?” Riven raised an eyebrow. “Aside from eating things.”

This truly seemed to stump the demonic creature, and it thought for a good while before eventually answering with another hiss. “All I have ever known is the need to feed and consume, the urge to grow. But… if I must choose something else, I would sssay I enjoy cooking.”

“Cooking!?” Athela butt in, hopping off of Azmoth’s shoudler and scurrying over to the slightly larger creature. She crossed her front legs and stared suspiciously. “How would a snake like you even cook!?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I am very good at cooking, and have even acquired a ssssssspecialized crafting category for it. Cooking level is at 86.”

“WHAT!?” Athela barked out in shock. “YOU DON’T EVEN HAVE HANDS!?”

Riven turned to Azmoth. “Specialized crafting category?”

Azmoth grunted again, four armored arms still folded over his chest. “They level independently of combat level. If stuck with totems, you might acquired one yourself. It take long time, hard work, but rewarding. That all know.”