The Last Experience Point

Chapter 79: Conquest

“Are you certain, Eilea?” asked the nameless man with the serpentine mask and black shawl, who shook his head as if simultaneously agitated and confused. His eyes were unreadable, hidden behind the bronze visage of an angered serpent that concealed his features and identity. For this reason, Eilea had only tone and body language with which to gauge his reaction. Though he spoke calmly and his voice came through at barely above a whisper, there was no mistaking the sense of surprise and apprehension that bled through each of his words. “With how much confidence do you place this assessment?”

“Complete confidence,” she replied. “Today is the day. We are mere minutes away.”

“But…this soon? Surely not. I'd imagined we’d have more time to prepare.”

She waved a hand at him. “It is only the beginning. There will still be time.”

“Nevertheless, it for sure begins today?”

She nodded. “You place far too much emphasis on what is nothing more than a marker. As I’ve said, this is merely the beginning: nothing more.”

Though Eilea had her suspicions, she could not be entirely certain of the identity of the man whose features lay behind the mask of the serpent. He had appeared before her fifteen years earlier, claiming he wished to aid her in her cause. That on its own was remarkable given that she resided in an ancient castle buried eight-hundred miles below the surface of Galterra. It was both her home and her prison. For all her power, she could not escape. For over a thousand years, she had been locked away, forced to use “other” means to influence events to the best of her ability, all while her animosity and desire for revenge grew stronger by the day.

Adamus, she thought. You will know the pain you’ve caused me!

Of all the Great Ones who had once worked side by side creating and upholding the system, only two now remained: Adamus Vayra, the half-human, half-Elf sage who resided in orbit around Galterra with his “OMP,” and she, Eilea Vayra, who Adamus had imprisoned in this dark, crumbling ruins of what had once been a bustling kingdom used by the gnomes so very long ago. All the other Great Ones had left through a one-way, since-closed wormhole to begin anew in another spiral galaxy, and not a day went by that she did not wish she’d gone with them.

But for a very few exceptions, she had been without companionship or visitors—until this man with the serpent mask and shawl had simply “popped” into existence. Though he was no Great One, it was not for lack of ability and power. Never, had Eilea seen a human with his level of strength. Well, other than the boy, should he live long enough to realize his potential.

He must, she thought, refusing to consider any other alternative. I will never defeat Adamus without him.

Having shown up uninvited, this mysterious, anonymous figure had claimed that he, too, wished to settle a score with Adamus, and that while he was not at liberty to divulge his identity, he had given her his assurances that he was not the treacherous type and sought only to aid her plans. Considering his intimidating mask and bizarre mannerisms, he was not the sort of man most would be at ease placing their trust in. And yet, she had no reason to doubt him. A prisoner to this subterranean, fallen kingdom, there was little he could do to worsen her position and much he could do to give her a much-needed advantage over her cruel, uncaring husband. Even just the possibility that he could finally bring an end to her seemingly infinite captivity was worth placing her trust in him.

I stayed behind for you, Adamus. And you repaid me by locking me in hell and refusing to acknowledge even the memory of my existence. You will suffer as I have. I do swear it!

Eilea watched as the serpent-masked man paced around the dark, dreary, and uncomfortably damp floor that had once been the throne room. Cracked and half-broken pillars covered in moss and fungi were the only obstacles that remained in what had become a barren, joyless space. She observed him carefully, once more attempting to see beyond him: to peer into his mind and coax out the secrets that lay within. Yet somehow, despite being a mere human—or so she assumed, based on his build, manner of speech, and unfamiliarity with the Elvish language—she could not read his soul. He had somehow blocked her off. Nevertheless, she estimated with a ninety-percent certainty that she did, in fact, know who this man was. The only question was how such a thing could even be possible.

A matter for another day.

Approaching the one sturdy table in the entirety of the rundown former throne room, he retrieved a glass viewing dome and a vial filled with Sight-Powder. Clearly, this secretive, masked ally of hers could not bring himself to believe what she had told him. Thus, she remained quiet as he spilled the Sight-Powder into the glass viewing dome and waiting for it to swirl around and take color and shape. Very quickly, it formed into the image of a young boy with wavy black hair moving rapidly towards a T7 fire wyvern, having just blasted himself miles away using the item ability of a ring he’d acquired in Archian Prime.

“It just seems too soon,” he said, now with an even greater degree of apprehension.

“If you are who I believe you to be, then your reaction strikes me as quite odd. I’d think that you of all people would be celebrating this news.”

He lowered his head as if to stare at the floor a moment. Then he sighed. “If I am indeed who you suspect, then you should not be surprised by my reaction. I simply do not understand how this can be happening to the boy so soon. It makes no sense.”

“To the contrary, I think it makes perfect sense,” Eilea said.

“Hm? How so?”

She shrugged. “When one has so far to climb, it should not come as a surprise that the ascent begins early.”

Tapping his chin several times with his gloved index finger, the man in the serpent mask nodded. “That’s a fair point.”

With a slowly forming grin, Eilea moved over to where he stood near the table and joined him in monitoring the boy. She caressed the glass as though it were far more precious than it actually was. “He’s our only chance,” she said to the man. “Galterra will not survive without him.”

“It’s truly mad, isn’t it?” the serpent-masked man whispered, and unless Eilea was mistaken, she detected a hint of sadness in the way he finished his words with a slow exhale.

“What is?”

The man folded his arms and narrowed his eyes. “That your husband would willingly let an entire planet die simply for the sake of upholding a principle.”

At this, Eilea released a loud, but brief bout of laughter. Yet there was no joy, humor, or amusement in it. It was a chuckle totally devoid of even a trace of mirth. “Why do you think he locked me up here in the first place?”

“You interfered?” the man asked.

She nodded. “Many times. All I ever wanted was to help people. It’s why I stayed behind in the first place. My dream was to create a world where people could live and work together in peace. The same dream my husband once shared. Even after the other Great Ones declared the Galterra Project a failure, I refused to abandon the people of this planet: and so too did my husband. Even now, in a bizarre sort of way, we both still share the same vision for a better world. But whereas he does not believe in steering the world towards this greater vision, I have seen the necessity of it. Unruled and left to their own devices, the various races that participate in the system will kill and brutalize each other.”

“My kind in particular,” the serpent-mask-wearing man said with a grunt, all but confirming that he was indeed a human.

“True,” Eilea said. “Humans have certainly outdone themselves time and time again in that department. Nevertheless, even were there to be no humans whatsoever on Galterra, the other races would still be no better off. Even the Elvish have not found a way to live at peace. My kind has both persecuted and been persecuted throughout history in equal measure. There must be a guiding hand. My husband does not understand that ‘law’ is not a dirty word. Absolute freedom is nothing more than an aid to tyranny.”

“I tend to agree,” the man said. “Although my grudge against Adamus is personal and not ideological, I would be lying if I said I didn’t think his concept of choice and freedom were antithetical to basic decency. It’s why the two of us never…”

Releasing a slight gasp that was almost inaudible, the man with the serpent mask quickly closed his mouth as if sensing he had been on the verge of saying too much. Not that it mattered, as Eilea was now ninety-five percent sure that she knew his identity. The only reason she was not one-hundred percent certain was due to the simple fact of how impossible his existence should have been. Put simply, he should not be among the living. Yet she knew better than to pry into the personal business of her only ally. When he was ready to talk, he would talk: hopefully.

For now, she was content to observe as Zachys Calador inched closer to the first true moment of his existence. Even as he ran across the grasslands to aid his friends, he was completely oblivious to the fact that he was also running headfirst into his own destiny. And while this would not be some fundamental, life-altering change, it would signal the unmistakable beginning of his ascent. Even he would not be able to deny it any longer.

“How close are you to destroying the barriers that keep me here?” she asked.

“Very. It’s a matter of days now. Not even weeks.”

After fifteen years of constant effort, her human savior was going to set her free. She had not seen sunlight in over twenty centuries. What Adamus had done to her in keeping her here—it was so far beyond unforgivable. There was nothing in this world that could quell her rage. Yet, even still, she did not intend to use violence or torture against him. And no: not due to some perceived, holier-than-thou sense of principle or self-proclaimed possession of greater virtue. Not out of some altruistic longing for decency. And not even due to some lingering love from a time past. No, it was quite simply because physical pain and torture were not effective tools of punishment against the likes of her husband. To truly hurt Adamus, she would need to defeat him ideologically. She would need to crumble his worldview and impose a better vision of the system than he had devoted his life to believing in. That would ruin him. That would cause him a misery far greater than gouging out his eyes or flaying him alive. Blinded, he would not see how wrong he had been; without skin, he would not feel the breeze roll over a peaceful world that prospered as a direct result of opposition to his misguided views. That would be her revenge. That would be her vindication!

And for this to come to pass, she would need the boy: Zachys Calador. She, and her new ally along with her, would guide him. She did not yet know how she would convince him to listen to her: but she was sure she’d find a way. She would teach him everything that she knew about diplomacy, leadership, and the responsibility of being a ruler, as one way or another, she would mold that oblivious, foul-mouthed, pessimistic child into a respectable emperor: one far more powerful and also far saner than Peter IV or any Brayspark who had come before him. With Zach as her vessel, the world would be theirs for the taking. At last, there would be an end to conflict. They would impose a global vision of unity, peace, and prosperity among all races and all kinds.

Conquest—and then peace. That was now the only path forward.

With Zachys Calador leading the way.