Chapter 503: Yalor

“When the gods were young,” Dariya said, shifting in her chair in Mason’s kitchen, “they thought to make a plane beyond even their own reach. A place…undisturbed by divine control. They wanted to know what would happen. If life would emulate them, destroy itself, which god it would choose to lead the world. It was a kind of…” she shrugged, and Mason sat back fighting off the urge to sigh.

“Experiment. Test.”

He managed to

just

avoid saying ‘game’.

“Yes.” Dariya smiled. “Just so. Every god was involved. As time went on, and the ‘experiment’ of the prime went well, many gods agreed that even the

other

planes should have rules. Slowly they made them, and the conflicts between them became…controlled. Predictable. Contained. But not every god agreed. A coalition formed behind a god of chaos and death, and a great war began.”

Mason did everything in his power to pay attention and care. He really did. A month ago he knew he would have had no chance at all. But now he was understanding that roboGod’s ‘worldbuilding’ wasn’t just some random story. Even the way it was being described right now was making intuitive sense based on what he knew.

Didn’t roboGod have…internal disagreements? ‘Subsystems’ with minds of their own?

Maybe their mechanical overlord wasn’t trying to understand humans at all. Maybe it was trying to understand

itself

. Just using humans to somehow help it with…what? Fucking

therapy

?

“What does any of this have to do with the seed?” he said, trying to control his tone. Dariya gave him a ‘you impatient human’ sort of frown. If only she knew.

“I’m getting to it. Where was I? Oh yes. The most important thing. Which currently is engulfing the world. Did you want to hear about that, lord?”

Mason kept his eyes from rolling out of his head.

“Well, the gods fought their war, and the majority won—the gods who desired ‘rules’ to govern the planes, and especially the prime. But there was great loss. Broken pacts and betrayals and hatreds with a depth and length mortal men can’t comprehend. The leader of the ‘wild gods’ swore revenge, even when the others spared him.”

Mason shook his head. “Why the hell would they do that? You don’t leave an enemy alive.”

Dariya stared like it was just another lesson falling on deaf ears.

“So wise, are you? These are beings that have seen hundreds of thousands of years, human. No god has ever been permanently destroyed. Who can even say what would happen if they were?”

“Then why the fighting,” Mason said. “If they can’t kill each other what’s the point of it all? It makes no sense. It’s a waste of time. Vanity.”

“Perhaps.” Dariya nodded like Mason had finally said something sensible. “But then perhaps life itself is vanity. Who are we, mere creatures, to hold off the end of all things? To live when around us in all directions is death?”

Mason met the elf’s eyes and blinked. For a moment it was like he was staring through her—like he could see past the fictional world roboGod had made and look straight into the lidless eye of the synthetic god itself.

Hadn’t it asked him why he

bothered

those months ago? Why he struggled at all?

He hardly remembered what he’d said. Something petty, no doubt. Hadn’t roboGod called this ‘game’ the ‘existence purpose finding game’, or something equally ridiculous?

Except maybe it wasn’t ridiculous. Maybe all of this was a machine asking man why they got out of bed in the morning. Maybe it asked not in an intentionally cruel way, but genuine curiosity.

The cruelty was just a byproduct.

“So they spared this ‘wild god’. Who was he? And please get to the seed part.”

“Yalor. Yes, they spared him, and bound him, but only after he agreed. He was the leader of the revolt for a reason—he was one of the strongest gods. A god of death and destruction, who despised order and laws and everything the new pact stood for.”

Mason had a bad feeling as he listened now. He thought about Cerebus and where a god like that might stand in such a war. The ‘horned god’ didn’t exactly seem like the type to enjoy rules. Though he’d mentioned them several times in the fey without seeming bitter or enraged about it.

“You mentioned betrayals,” Mason said. “There were gods who betrayed this Yalor. Was Cerebus one of them?”

Dariya smiled like her ‘student’ had finally started to catch on.

“No, ranger. He was

always

on the death god’s side, and never betrayed him. But you come to the question—what is the seed? It is life itself—an ‘artifact’ created by Gaia and Cerebus before the war, when they were lovers and allies. It was created in the same spirit of scheming as many other such items—to create life, to influence the planes in ways that would not strictly violate the rules.”

“But then Yalor started his revolution, and Cerebus joined him, because Cerebus probably hated the rules. And Gaia didn’t.”

Dariya nodded. “Something like that. It was

my

mistress who betrayed Yalor. She isn’t truly a moon god, but a god of darkness and light, as changeable and fickle as the tide. She was Cerebus’ lover for a time during the war, which is why Gaia despises her, and her followers. But by the end, she’d betrayed them both.”

“Sounds like a real great rolemodel.”

“Still so arrogant.” Dariya glared. “I can see why Cerebus chose you. My mistress isn’t some fool without a plan. She maintains

balance

. She shifts from one side or the other to

protect

the planes. And she succeeded. Without her, everything you care about would already be gone.”

At least Mason knew now why he didn’t trust the old seer. The primary tenet of her goddess seemed to be ‘prepare always to betray’. He had the urge to say something like ‘turncoats always have their reasons’. But he managed to behave himself.

“You’re telling me I serve a god who was on ‘team destroy the world’? Why would he do that? Cerebus is a dick. But he doesn’t seem like a psychopath.”

“I won’t pretend to understand the motivation of gods, Baron, save perhaps mine. But I imagine Cerebus never truly believed they’d win. For him I expect it would have been…protest. To show the gods what he thought of their rules and schemes. Perhaps he saw the size of the army and simply wanted glory. He isn’t exactly a long-term thinker.”

Mason wasn’t so sure he believed that, but he didn’t bother saying so. The gods of this universe seemed more like…philosophies,

ways

of thinking.

For Cerebus, might made right. Maybe he figured if all the gods couldn’t stop the rebels, they didn’t deserve to. And when he’d lost, that was that, no hard feelings. That felt more right than Dariya’s version.

“The Doom isn’t some Maker accident, is it?” he said, meeting the old seer’s eyes. She swallowed and slowly shook her head.

“It is the god Yalor returning. Conditions were negotiated during his surrender. He would be allowed again to try to destroy the prime, within a framework of rules. He can be stopped, but not destroyed. The process has begun.”

Yeah. It’s in about phase 3

, Mason thought wryly.

“Thank you for telling me all this. You might have done it sooner.”

Dariya shrugged and glanced at the similarly amazed and annoyed looking Ayet and Naya. Apparently this wasn’t general elf knowledge.

“My order forbids sharing such knowledge,” she said, “until the time is right.” She turned and met Mason’s eyes again. “I didn’t trust you, human. But I believe I do now.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t.” Mason took a step forward. “I still ‘serve’ Cerebus. Who says my patron doesn’t or won’t advise a plan you won’t like? Maybe he’ll ask me to finish the job.”

To her credit, the ancient elf didn’t back away or look afraid. She only smiled, putting a hand on Naya’s stomach. The elven beauty blinked and quirked her head in question, tears forming in her eyes as the old seer smiled.

“I trust men with futures. Men with wives and children and homes built to last. Cerebus may be your patron, Baron Mason of House Mason. What he will do our counsel I cannot say. But I know you will defend this world, not destroy. Your actions are very clear.”

Mason met Naya’s watery eyes and smiled, despite the annoying seer. He glanced around at his girls, feeling in one way trapped, but trapped by bonds he was glad to have.

She was right, no matter how annoying. If something was coming to destroy what he was building—whether it was some insane emperor, or a god of doom, he was going to put a stop to it. If Cerebus told him to do otherwise, that would be the day they parted ways.

But he didn’t think he would. The elf didn’t understand the god like Mason did. Cerebus would be offended at the idea he’d tell Mason what to do at

all

, except to do whatever he wanted, and make no apologies.

“Haley,” he said with a sigh, “set a meeting for me. I want all the men—player and civilian—gathered at Billy’s place. Use the comm beacon if you like. Tell them I’ll be there in ten minutes. Attendance mandatory.”

“Just the men?” Haley raised a curious eyebrow, and Mason nodded as he went for the door, scooping up the seed on his way.

“And Naya,” he called at the door, “I want a list of every elven woman willing to take a human mate.”

“I already know this, husband,” she said, gathering herself. Whether she believed she was pregnant or not was hard to tell. “Most are willing. But…what shall I tell them?”

“Tell them there’s going to be a mass wedding,” he called, then shut the door.