Elysium's Multiverse

Chapter 200

Chapter 200

The rest of the time spent with Yattazi was very refreshing - though she did end up reverting back to her normal size after Athela kept pestering her about how her smaller form looked. Despite what and who she was, Yattazi had a very warm personality. She was easy to get along with and eager to please, but

When discussing combat power, it appeared that she was heavily focused on close combat and body enhancements. Most of her abilities and insights were focused on making her physical body more powerful both in offense and defense. There were exceptions to this, including a ‘Chaos Cannon’ martial art that created a blast of raw chaos energy, a petrifying flash-glare ability that often silenced enemies if they didn’t turn to stone, a constricting martial art that utilized her long body, a martial art that used her fangs to inject a potent venom, and a ‘Magma Chamber’ martial art that was essentially a zoning ability that trapped enemies in place within a large designated space which began to fill with magma. She had a variant of Hell’s Armor that Azmoth used, a spell similar to but better than Riven’s own Blessing of the Crow, and a handful of different passive buffs that increased resistances against all types of damage.

After parting ways and telling her that at the very least she was under heavy consideration, Riven left and moved on to the iron scarecrow - Fimrindle. Selecting it next, he found himself being pulled out of Yattazi’s realm, only to receive a notification.

[Fimrindle has failed to create his own nether realm. Do you wish to use your already acquired demons for use of their nether realms instead?]

He glanced at Athela, then Azmoth. “That’s weird. Either of you want to give up your home for a bit?”

“OOOH! OOOH PICK ME!” Athela exclaimed excitedly, shifting back into her small spider form and waggling her arms in the air. “PLEASE please please! I’ve been wanting to show you my nether realm for a while now!”

“Don’t care.” Azmoth said simply.

Riven gave an amused chuckle, but nodded to Athela and motioned for her to get on with it - selecting ‘Yes’ and then mentally checking into Athela’s realm when a strange tug yanked at the borders of his mind.

In a temple?

Towering statues of black spiders were on either side, a long hallway to a throne where a woman who looked very similar to Athela - yet older, sat on that throne, and pillars of stone held the ceiling up high above them with only trace amounts of barely visible light leaking in through window slits at the very top adjacent to the ceiling.

Athela was nowhere to be found, until she suddenly popped into existence and squealed in excitement. Jumping up into Riven’s arms and simultaneously morphing into her more humanoid form, she tugged at his hands and motioned towards the throne. “Riven! You HAVE to meet my mom! She’s been waiting all this time and I’m SO EXCITED to show you to her!”

In a flash of light, another figure soon joined them. It was a scarecrow for all intents and purposes, wielding a rather simple scythe in his right hand and a metal unlit lantern in his left hand. The scarecrow was posted upon a metal cross, was stick thin, with a metal jaw that lay slack and almost unhinged with sharp teeth smiling his way. The eyes were only X’s carved into the otherwise almost featureless metal of the face, and the way it stared at him was… rather creepy.

“We’ll get to you soon Fimrindle, just wait a moment!” Athela piped up, still yanking Riven forward step by step while giddily motioning over to her ‘mother.’ “MOM I’M HOME! AND I’VE BROUGHT THE HUNK!”

The old woman on the throne stared with a small smile creeping at the corners of her mouth, but remained sitting as Athela pulled Riven her way. She glanced at the scarecrow, frowned, and motioned towards the newly arrived demon. “Honey… perhaps you should talk to the scarecrow first? Riven and I can meet afterwards. I don’t think it is wise to have such a creature enter your nether realm like this only to be made to wait… because without me also being here, it would be rather dangerous for you to let him into your safe space. That creature is deserving of respect, and you should show him as much.”

***

Riven’s eyes shifted around the rather dark and unholy temple display, taking in the statues of spiders, driders, and other various creatures of arachnid origin. Numerous sets of red eyes peaked out from the dark corners that even Riven’s sight could not penetrate, and shifting figures in the shadows adjusted their positions on the outskirts.

“You’ve brought a lot of the family!” Athela said enthusiastically, letting go of Riven’s arm and running across the room - past Fimrindle - to throw her arms around her mother. “I thought it was only going to be you!”

Riven glanced between this new woman, the figures in the dark, and the demon scarecrow who continued to remain on its cross unmoving. Apologetically holding up one hand Fimrindle’s way, Riven began to walk over to where Athela and her mom were standing side by side - Athela having a giddy wide grin on her face while bobbing up and down on her toes.

Athela’s mother was strangely beautiful in a very sinister way, very close to how Athela looked - only slightly more menacing in her humanoid form. She had three pairs of mandibles coming out of the sides of her throat along a slit that likely opened up into an additional mouth, had smaller red markings across her otherwise pitch black and patchy white skin, and had four red eyes instead of two. Otherwise the athletic outline and the six blade-like arachnoid legs sticking out of her back were the same.

Sensing Riven’s nervousness, Athela’s mother grinned - and she stepped forward with an extended hand. “No need to be wary. After seeing the lengths to which you’d go in order to save my daughter, I am most pleased to make your acquaintance. It meant a lot to me, and the entire clan, that you seem to continually put her above everything else - and fully support the relationship you two have cultivated together. My name is Ytrikel’Vorindi, although you can just call me Vorindi.”

Riven reached out and took her hand, and to his surprise he was actually able to feel it. The tangible nature of this nether realm was somewhat different than others had been, but he wasn’t sure why. “It’s incredibly nice to meet you, Vorindi. I just was somewhat blindsided! Athela would occasionally talk about you before, and I guess I wanted to make a good impression in case I ever met you.”

Athela giggled and her mother Vorindi smiled widely.

“No need to worry about that. As I said, you have done more than enough to make a good impression with the clan.” Vorindi let go and put her hands behind her back, inspecting Riven and then turning her gaze to Azmoth. “Fascinating. Your path has truly been fascinating. I must ask, Riven, when it is you intend to marry my daughter? I assume her first time performance was adequate?”

“MOTHER!” Athela barked, clapping a hand over her face and blushing furiously that turned her skin a different shade of black. “You CANNOT ask such questions! Riven DON’T YOU DARE answer that question!”

Meanwhile Riven’s own face had gushed a bright red, but he promptly nodded with an embarrassed grin. “More than adequate. Just how much did you see?”

“Most of it.” Vorindi replied, unperturbed by the loud groan escaping Athela’s lips. “It isn’t as if we can just look wherever we want to, but I can see Athela’s experiences through her bond and I pay an information broker who utilizes scrying abilities to monitor you.”

He sheepishly scratched the back of his neck. “I see. I probably need to get anti-scrying formations in place around my manor… Don’t I? As for the marriage question…”

He trailed off, settling his gaze on Athela who continued to hide her face behind her hands. But she did peak out at him a moment later to watch. “Telling that kind of information would ruin the surprise, wouldn’t it? As long as she wants to, that is. Not any time soon, but perhaps after everything on Panu settles.”

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

He let on a gentle smile and Athela’s body went rigid - eyes wide.

The response was more than enough for Vorindi, and she slowly clapped while nodding in approval. “I’m incredibly happy to hear it and look forward to such a surprise. I will refrain from asking more questions on the matter before my child dies of embarrassment, but I approve. Hopefully when things have settled down as you say, you and I will have more opportunities to become acquainted. I am sorry for interrupting your contractual obligations, but I and the rest of the family now here couldn’t help but set eyes on you in a more personal fashion. Regardless it would likely be wise to go ahead with the contract, I apologize for needing to stroke my own curiosity - if only briefly..”

From out of the shadows, a spider leg waved his way - and Riven chuckled with his hands being shoved into pockets. Athela slowly walked over to him and pushed her head into his chest, wrapping her arms around him and avoiding eye contact while he stroked her hair. “Yes, that’s likely wise. Otherwise mother will keep embarrassing me.”

She shot her mother Vorindi a glare.

Vorindi smiled innocently in turn, gave Athela’s shoulder a kind squeeze, and then gestured towards the scarecrow. “I believe you have an demon to speak to.”

He nodded. “That was very brief, but it’s been a pleasure. Let’s talk sometime soon after the contract is set. Maybe later this week?”

“Stop hitting on my mom.” Athela replied with a teasing laugh, head still buried in Riven’s chest. She looked up, red eyes wide, lips quivering, and she planted a firm kiss mouth to mouth while getting up on her toes before letting go. “Let’s go talk to the scarecrow.”

During this entire exchange, Fimrindle hadn’t moved even a single millimeter. The large, carved X’s for eyes in its metal face did not blink, did not twitch, did not shift. The metal jaw and teeth remained slightly unhinged, and a black void remained at the back of its throat. The lantern and scythe on either side of the creature were utterly still too, and the rail thin body of the metal creature was completely undecorated.

It kind of looked like a child’s stick drawing taken real form with a twist of evil to it.

• Fimrindle, Unique: The Iron Scarecrow, Unholy / Blood / Death / Machine, Level 120. ELITE. - This truly odd and misunderstood demon created from metal was actually spawned as part of an experiment done by black magic users who tried merging a machine, an undead, and a demon. The experiment was a success, but the creators didn’t survive the ordeal. After destroying multiple cities, the creature was banished and sequestered into a soul stone laid in a crypt at the bottom of an ocean trench. There he remains, waiting for the right summoner to take him from his wretched prison, so that he can once again experience life. He doesn’t talk much, and he’s a bit creepy even by Elysium’s standards, but he certainly knows how to wield a scythe. [159 Willpower Required]

Riven came to stand beside the creature, taking in the entire rail-thin body. It didn’t necessarily look all that impressive just at a first glance, but the description of the demon was promising.

“Tell me, Fimrindle, why choose me as a prospective master?” Riven eventually asked with a frown. “You don’t even have your own nether realm, which begs the question as to why that is. Don’t most demons choose a summoner because they want to explore the mortal realms without danger to themselves? Yet, you’re already there. It doesn’t make sense to me.”

An odd tugging sensation caused Riven to look away for a moment. When Riven’s eyes came back to where the scarecrow had been a moment before, he nearly jumped out of his boots and took an involuntary step back - seeing Fimrindle’s metal face only an inch away from his own with a wide smile.

“JESUS!” Riven muttered under his breath, heartbeat pounding in his chest while glaring back at the demon. “Don’t do that!”

The scarecrow remained stock-still, continuing not to move a single inch while the X’s for eyes stared blankly at the spot Riven had stood seconds beforehand.

Catching his breath and straightening, Riven blankly stared and then sputtered a laugh. “Are you just going to stand there? Or can you not talk?

Riven blinked, and during that blink the scarecrow shifted its position - inspecting Athela with crossed arms and the scythe-lantern combo settled on its back.

Riven’s brows furrowed. How the hell was this creature moving so… jerkily? It was like watching a horror film where the ghost or monster made such abrupt movements that it couldn’t be tracked between movements.

Eventually Riven blinked again, and found Fimrindle looking his way again. And when the creature finally spoke, the mouth didn’t move. Only a raspy, whispering voice was heard - as if someone from far away was yelling through a tunnel to talk to him. “I am looking for one to teach me… one that understands what it is like to be shunned.”

Riven waited for the scarecrow to continue, but Fimrindle didn’t utter another word. Riven clicked his tongue in thought, shot the others a glance - only getting shrugs, and sighed. “That isn’t much of an explanation.”

Again the scarecrow did not reply.

“Mind expanding on that a bit?” Riven asked with a raised eyebrow.

“You are interesting. As is your sister.” Fimrindle replied with that whispery voice. The jaw of the creature didn’t move, but the words came out anyways. “I do not fear death like so many others. I do not need contracts to live on, nor do I need a nether realm to hide behind like so many other weaklings choose to do. Should I ever die, my soul will enter nirvana and be reborn. I am already dead, but I somehow remain alive. I am here standing before, and I am not. I am an abomination in the eyes of the system, a machine by body and a demon by nature. I try to find my path where there is none. I want you to help me find that path, and in return I can offer you help along the one you choose for yourself. That is all.”

Riven’s eyes narrowed, and he contemplated the words the demon spoke. Dead but still alive probably meant he was also undead. He didn’t know anything about this ‘nirvana’ the creature talked about. Finding a path could mean a large number of things, but in the end it didn’t matter too much as long as Fimrindle obeyed commands and got along with everyone else. “I see. While that’s a rather cryptic answer, I’ll take it for now. What’s your fighting style?”

“Assassin. I am a child of the Scythe, the great spirit that brings home the souls of the dead. Every movement I make must have meaning.”

Riven blinked. “You being serious? I haven’t heard of this ‘Scythe’ spirit before.”

Fimrindle took a while, but eventually acknowledged his words.

“By nature, the Scythe is the embodiment of death. It is in many ways an equivalent to the sins, but was a being spawned by the pillar of Death as a manifestation of the end. Speaking of which - I do suggest that you begin to follow your own path more fervently, vampire; should you lose favor with Gluttony due to your lack of proper choice.”

Riven’s eyes widened, and he crossed his arms. “Well this got a lot more interesting. What do you mean by my lack of proper choice? What have I done to lose favor with Gluttony?”

The scarecrow paused, then its whispering voice proceeded to echo back at him after a low and ominous chuckle. “You have pleased it thus far. But you hold on to your humanity. I see your soul, Riven Thane, and I find it lacking. I see potential being squandered. I wish to correct you, for both our sakes. Do not confuse violence and gluttonous wants with evil. You may still cultivate sin and the evil inside you without bowing to the notion of evil itself, though this is a harder path than that of embracing the essence of evil. I tell you now that the more you kill, the more Gluttony is appeased. The more you devour, the more you crave power, the more you grow, and the farther you will tread. Gluttony’s aspect is similar to and almost a combination of Wrath and Greed. You must eat, you must kill, you must grow, in a never ending cycle of self indulgence. You must learn to love these aspects of yourself, give in to your wants, for these are the fundamentals of Gluttony. Bathe in the blood of your enemies and drink them dry. When you do this enough, you will one day find your hunger insatiable - but only then will you find the true power your soul now wields. The true power your soul now buries under flawed personal beliefs on the nature of good versus evil.”

A shudder ran down Riven’s soul aperture, and he felt his soul vibrate and resonate with the demon’s words. The five shards of Gluttony surfaced in that moment, acknowledging the scarecrow’s words as true with a tidal wave of overwhelming hunger, before fading again into the background once more. He even gained a very fleeting flash of inspiration, which caused him to almost stumble forward - but the images left as soon as they came.

“Are you ok?” Athela asked worriedly, wiping sweat from across Riven’s brow as he involuntarily shuddered. She glared back at the scarecrow, not sure what was going on, but calmed down when Riven nodded his head.

“It seems you know a lot more about my sin than I do.” Riven stated after some time, the maw along his chestplate rumbling in agreement. Jackal came up to his leg in canine form and rubbed against him, and he bent down to pet the weapon-turned-pet before straightening again to stare long and hard Fimrindle’s way. “Tell me more about this… ‘Scythe’ spirit.”

The scarecrow remained silent.

Clicking his tongue, Riven continued with another question. “Why should I choose you over the others?”

The scarecrow yet again did not reply.

Riven’s eyelids dropped slightly, then he called the demon’s bluff and turned around while putting his helmet on. “I guess he doesn’t want it as bad as I thought he did. Let’s go.”

“The devil is a fool.”

Riven paused at the scarecrow’s words, smiling slightly underneath the metal of Messenger’s protective shell. “Go on.”

“He is impulsive and violent without forethought to any action. He will get you killed the moment he antagonizes an opponent greater than himself, and it will not be him that dies the true death because of it. The devil Chazi will not care if you die, as he will find another master so he can pursue the glory of battle at little risk to himself.”

Riven turned around to stare at the scarecrow, folding his arms and nodding along. “Ok. What about the others?”

“Rheufa Chak Tal is a deceiver. You have not met him yet, but when you do - ask him about what he did to his last master. And if you do choose him, be sure to triple check his contract. It will no doubt be very long, and carefully worded in his favor in ways that you may not see. The snake, Yattazi, may be a monster but she is also pure in soul. She above all else follows her path with true fervor, and I have nothing negative to say about her aside from the fact that I would beat her in one on one combat.”

A small chuckle escaped Riven’s lips. “Is that so? I would be interested in seeing such a battle. What about the Abyss-Lord?”

Fimrindle paused. “What Abyss-Lord?”

Riven raised an eyebrow again and pulled up his list of potential demonic contracts, the list of 5 that Athela had narrowed it down to, only to see that list had dropped down to 4.