The Last Experience Point

Chapter 84: Humanity

Eilea Vayra leaned in closer to the glass viewing dome and grinned mightily, and though she would not be able to know what facial expression was to be found on the man with the serpent mask, she had to imagine that, at the very least, his excitement rivaled her own as the two of them watched events unfold.

I am so proud of Queen Vayra, she thought. She has done so well.

Incredibly, Eilea had not even needed to manipulate Fylwen or pull any strings to get the woman to dance. Without any intervention whatsoever, she had somehow just steered Zachys Calador in the exact direction Eilea needed him to go—and what was more, she’d done it from the heart. No games, no deception. It was incredible. Truly, she was so proud of the woman. It didn’t matter that she’d never met her, and that Fylwen had no idea who she was, that she’d ever existed, or the truth of the legacy that she, her daughter, and her husband shared. All of the Elves in the Vayra line, both those who married into it such as Fylwen, or those whose blood ran from the ancient times, such as Kalana and her father—Eilea considered all of them to be equally deserving of titles and roles to play in the world she wished to create. Even without having intentionally served Eilea’s purpose, Fylwen Vayra would nevertheless be honored and rewarded for the service she had performed today.

On second thought, all those with the Vayra name needed to be rewarded. Well…everyone except Adamus Vayra. He would be cast out, but only after witnessing the beautiful world that would spring up around his failures—the failures that Eilea would correct.

If Yorna were still here, she would side with me. I am sure of it.

As Eilea watched the fireworks begin, she suddenly had a craving for that human food known as “popcorn” that she’d tasted numerous times on her visits to the ancient times. Why hadn’t Galterrans made that a thing yet? Another problem she’d correct—and hopefully soon, as Zach was on the path to righteousness that would lead to a new, better world order. He was going to forge a paradise for all of them. And, as it always did seem to be the case, it will have been a Vayra who had set him upon it.

Well done, well done! Strike him down, Zach. Strike down the wicked. The evil. Slay the monsters that corrupted the world!

“I don’t like this,” the man with the serpent mask said. “This is not justice.”

Surprised, Eilea turned her head to face him. He was standing close enough to her that their shoulders were almost touching, yet even at this distance, she could not get an easy read on him. “This is an incredible turn of events. What nonsense are you peddling?”

The man grunted, slowly. “You and I share the same two goals: of creating a better world, and of taking down Adamus. But you and I do not hold the same values. No, not at all.”

“Oh?” She was in far too jubilant a mood to let the man crush her spirits. And thus, prodding him, she said, “Are you not just being a bit too softhearted because he’s your kin, Francis?”

The man whipped his head in her direction so fast that she flinched. “Don’t call me that name.”

“Why do you continue to wear the mask?” Eilea asked him, holding her ground. “It’s obvious who you are: Francis Calador, the human who could have been a Great One if only he’d chosen to do so. I’ve known it was you for months, truth be told.”

The man in the serpent mask looked at her. “Francis Calador died a long time ago,” he said. “I’m just a ghost now. And as far as this whole spectacle is concerned, the boy should not be wasting his time on violence or petty revenge killings. As I’m sure you know, the World Eater will spawn in just five more years. Protecting the world from Moldark’s doomsday weapon is my primary purpose for existing. Though you and I share two goals: this one, to me, ranks higher than both.”

“We share this one as well.”

“Do we?”

“Of course we do,” she said. “How can I create a paradise world if it is destroyed by an abomination such as the World Eater? Defeating that thing is just as vital to my ambitions as it is to yours.”

The man sighed, and there was a note of relief in the sound of it. “Well, I’m glad to hear we agree on that then.”

He gave her shoulder a friendly squeeze, completely unaware of the chills it sent down her spine. He was clueless to how much she had grown to like and appreciate him. Eilea found him charming in a way that she couldn’t quite describe. “Please, Francis. Take off the mask.”

“It changes nothing either way.”

“Maybe, but outside of my dream-like trips to the past, I haven’t looked into another person’s eyes in many, many centuries. For the past fifteen years, I have been blessed with your company. Yet I have never once gotten to see your face.”

“Is it truly so important to you, Eilea?”

“It is.”

With a sigh, the man removed his serpent mask, and now, without any shred of doubt, Eilea gazed upon the bafflingly youthful face of Francis Calador, a man who had supposedly been murdered by his best friend, Moldark, thousands of years ago. His eyes were so filled with determination that the sensation of it was palpable. His wavy black hair was in a bit of a mess due to having worn the helmet for so long, but his rugged good looks were a welcome sight for someone who had been without contact for so long. He was strong, broad-shouldered, and his chiseled jaw reminded Eilea of how much she had missed the company of men.

“I had strongly suspected it was you from the beginning,” she said. “Why did you try so hard to keep it a secret?”

“You misunderstand me. I am not hiding my identify from you. That was never my goal. That was never why I wore this. I wear it because I am not the person you see before you anymore. I’m not here to live out the desires of Francis Calador. I’m here to guide my blood to Dragon Squire so that he can begin taking steps to protect our world from the nightmare ahead. And this,” he said, nodding his chin at the glass viewing dome, “is nothing more than a grotesque display of anger and hatred. I am so disappointed. I pray to any greater power who will listen that my descendent chooses mercy and spares that man’s life.”

Eilea curled her lower lip. “For someone who has shed the Calador name, you seem awfully upset.”

Francis looked off into the distance. “I’ve watched for thousands of years as my family went from legend to myth to a page in a history book no longer in existence. And through it all, I felt relief. Because I would rather my kin grow up, live peacefully, and die as level-1 commoners than use our blood to unleash terror upon the world. It’s why I chose to die. Had I so desired, I could have killed Moldark—and his entire army with him—and I could have done it with a hand tied behind my back. If that was the path I wished to follow, it would have been a thing of ease for me. But we have to better than that, Eilea. All of us do. I don’t want to kill people, and I don’t want others to kill. And if someone wants to strike me, I will turn my cheek at them.”

Eilea raised her eyebrows. “Wait a minute, I know where that’s from—vaguely. You…you believe in the Old God, don’t you? The one from ancient times.”

“And if I do?”

Eilea held up her hands in a disarming gesture. “Far be it from me to tell you what to believe.” She studied him a moment, and incredibly, she, a Great One, found herself become awed by his presence. There were so few men in this world who stood so strongly by their convictions: and even fewer whose convictions were noble. Adamus was an example of the former as opposed to the latter.

“Eilea,” he whispered.

“Yes?”

“Since I have told you something of great value to me, will you answer a question of mine?”

“I’ll try.”

“Are the Elves…human?”

At this, Eilea felt a jolt of surprise for the first time in hundreds of years. What did he know? How could he ask such a question? Someone must have told him something: but who? “To even ask me that question at all implies you know something that no one should ever be allowed to know. How could you possibly…who has spoken to you?”

“No one,” he said. “I’ve deduced it all on my own.”

“Impossible.”

“Not so. I don’t lie, Eilea. Ever. This is a theory I’ve had all my life. It’s something I always wanted to ask a Great One. So please, just tell me.”

Eilea paused a moment. She was willing to break just about any rule, violate any principle, and shatter any alliance if it meant accomplishing her goal of bringing peace and decency back to the world. But the truth about the Elvish…that was one thing she genuinely did not feel comfortable sharing. And yet, who would Francis even bother to tell? Who would listen to him? Clearly, he wanted to know this for his own sake.

“You will never disseminate this?”

“I will not.”

“You give me your word on pain of death?”

“I do.”

“I ask you this only because there is a truly noble reason that we do not share this secret. Among the Great Ones who created the system, there was a great deal of ideological diversity, with nearly all philosophical viewpoints represented. Yet, all of us, including those whose beliefs were rooted in the pursuit of truth—all of us agreed to bury what I am about to tell you and never speak of it again.”

Eilea braced herself. Even uttering this aloud felt like a crime against so many innocent Elvish lives who would be made to feel worthless if it were ever told to them. This was something that was intended by design to be forgotten. For this reason, the Great Ones would not even speak about this aloud in front of one another. Wetting her lips, Eilea faced away from him as she spoke.

“All throughout human history, psionically capable individuals have existed, with many beginning to emerge as early as the 12th century.”

“Psionically capable individuals?” Franics asked.

“Basically, people with gifts that separated them from others. They could move things with their mind, or read the thoughts of others. These individuals have been referred to by many names throughout history, but in all cases, they remained hidden until an incident that occurred in the early 2000s that I cannot talk about: although in this case, it is not due to personal dislike of the topic, but more a restriction placed on me.”

“A restriction? I don’t understand. Why can’t you talk about it?”

Eilea sighed. “Because the Great One named ‘Rose’ who ‘lives’ in that era will come here and eliminate all life on Galterra in a heartbeat if I even speak it aloud.”

“That’s…that’s impossible.”

“No, it’s not. As confusing as it may sound to you, there are Great Ones who are so powerful that they are aware of all times at all times. Rose and her mother—Adamus’s mother—are two such Great Ones. For this reason, I cannot share with you this piece of information.”

“I…I don’t know what to say to that. You’re certain that just by speaking it aloud, someone who lived over five-thousand years ago would simply pop into existence and kill all of us?”

“Or worse.”

“What could be worse than that?”

“Again, I cannot say. That, I will never share.”

“Very well. Please continue, Eilea.”

She drew a breath and held it a moment before slowly releasing it. “As I was saying, psionically-capable humans were a secret, but very significant and important part of human history until this unnamed world event brought them to public attention. And then, about a thousand years later, the Elvish race came into existence. We were created by genetically modifying the embryos of psionically capable humans in order to enhance their power and weaponize them. This led to the creation of what some might describe as 'magic,' but is in actuality just an enhanced form of a natural, scientifically explainable phenomenon."

“So it’s exactly like I suspected,” he whispered. More loudly, he said, “But why change your appearance to look differently from the way that we look?”

She gritted her teeth. “Your question…the answer to it is the reason why we do not discuss this topic. It’s the reason why even those who are opposed to telling lies or suppressing the truth were in favor of erasing what you are about to hear. Because the answer to your question hurts. It stings us in ways you could not possibly imagine. And even just speaking it aloud runs the risk of perpetuating it.”

“Say no more. I can see this is painful for you. If that’s so, then you do not have to tell me why your people—”

“It was a joke,” she said, the bitterness and hurt creeping into her voice. “That is why I look the way I do. That is why my ears are different from yours, why my eyes are shaped differently, and why my hair is a shade of gold that humans cannot naturally obtain.”

“A…joke?” he asked her. She turned back around and looked at him, and to her surprise, there was such a strong and endearing compassion in his eyes. “Do you mean that literally?”

“Yes. I do.”

He widened his eyes in shock. “Truly?”

“Yes. You see, very early on in human history, the Elvish were a race of mystical, magical beings depicted in fairy tales and fantasy stories. Though I was not alive for the creation of my people, I was present when we found the archives on the abandoned research station. And what we learned was that, on a whim, and for the sake of mere levity, my family, my people, everyone I’ve ever loved—we were designed to look this way for nothing more than the entertainment of those who created us in a test tube. It was funny to them. There are recordings of them laughing about how ‘funny’ it would be if they made ‘Elves’ a ‘real thing.’ Well I am a ‘real thing’, and my children were real to me too.”

“I’m…I’m sorry,” he said. “And can I assume that the reason you bury this truth is for the sake of your young?”

“That’s exactly correct,” Eilea said, stunned at how quickly he had ascertained that.

“So, Elvadin, your culture, the pantheon of Gods and Goddesses…?”

“All fiction,” she said. “We made it up for one reason and one reason alone: so that our children could be proud of who they were born to be, and so they would believe they were someone special and important just like everyone else, and not some test subject made to look like fictional beings for the laughter of those who created us.”

A moment of silence passed between them, during which Francis said nothing. Then, finally, he began to nod. “I am against lying. I am against deceit. But in this one case, I agree: you did the right thing. I will never speak a word of this to anyone. And I am sorry for what humanity has done.”

She waved her hand at him. “Truly, I have no hatred of humanity. None at all. No Great One does. We created the system to save it, after all.”

“When you say ‘it,’ do you mean…” He took a full step back and held his hand to his mouth. “The other races as well? Dwarves, Orcs, Gnomes…are they…?”

Eilea swallowed. “Yes. They are all derived from modified human embryos.”

“And humans created them too?”

“No,” she whispered, a bout of shame rising within her.

“Then who did?”

She lowered her voice. “We did,” she said.

“But why would the Elves do this knowing full well how wrong it is?”

At this, Eilea laughed. “Because, fundamentally, we are human.”

And now, he too laughed, as despite being such a simple explanation, it was perhaps the most sensical one that could ever be offered. “So,” Francis said, “all the races on Galterra: all of you are derived from humans?”

At this, she fixed him with a hard look. She knew this part would cause him to lose some sleep, but he’d pushed her to tell him this. “Your use of the word ‘you’ is off.”

“What do you mean?”

“You, Francis: you are also a genetically modified subspecies. Everyone on Galterra is. You’re not a pure human, either. None of us ever were. You were just blessed with maintaining a human phenotype. You look indistinguishable from the way a human from Earth would have looked, but neither you nor any human you’ve ever met can trace their lineage back to a natural birth from a human mother on Earth. It’s why I do not hate you. You are not them. You only think that you are.”

“So…” Francis paused a moment, then briefly departed to pull up a chair. She wasn’t surprised he felt the need to sit down. “So…so every race on Galterra is derived from modified human embryos?”

“Almost all,” Eilea said. “There is one single race that is not.”

“Which one?”

“The lizardmen. Their species remains to this day the only sentient extraterrestrial life that any human-derived species or subspecies has ever managed to locate in the universe. That they are capable of participating in the system is also due to the miracle of genetic engineering. In the mid 3000s, humanity embarked on an exhaustive, galaxy-wide search to see if other sentient life existed in the universe. They had nearly given up when they found the lizardmen on a planet nearly forty-thousand lightyears away.”

“And what happened to them?”

“Somehow, within six weeks of first contact, humans ended up at war with them. Within two years, they were made extinct.”

At this, he released a sad-sounding guffaw. “That sounds like us. I’m guessing human scientists had harvested some of their eggs?”

“No, that too was our doing. We sought to protect the lizardmen. They voluntarily gave the Elves some of their eggs in the hope that we could make them part of the system we had begun developing in secret: so that their kin would live on and know peace.”

Franics shook his head. “What did these people even do to piss humans off so much that we annihilated their entire species?”

With a sigh, Eilea answered his question. “They said the word ‘no.’”

A heavy silence lingered between the two of them, and for a while, neither spoke a word as they returned to observing Zach.