//------------------------------// // 938 - Chains of Fate // Story: Lateral Movement // by Alzrius //------------------------------// Lex scowled as Odin stared into Kryonex’s eyeball. He’d already changed back into his flesh-and-blood body, returned Belligerence to his pocket dimension, and dismissed the sanctification that he’d laid on the area a few minutes prior. Solvei had also finished explaining everything that had happened, having told Lex enough to let him know that Sanguine Disposition was the one who’d saved them, sending them all to what sounded like some sort of demiplanar maze. No doubt the repulsive blood-drinker would say that he was owed another favor for that. Worse, Lex knew that he’d be right. “Fenrir’s still there, alright,” announced Odin abruptly, looking up from where he’d been having a staring contest with the glowing blue eye. Lex frowned, having no idea how the Aesir deity had come to that conclusion. After having dropped multiple revelations in the span of on brief conversation, he’d paid very close attention to Odin’s examining the last piece of Kryonex, analyzing the old man even as he’d analyzed the oversized eyeball. But much to his frustration, Lex hadn’t been able to sense a thing. Even after silently invoking several divinatory spells to augment what his mystic senses could detect, he hadn’t been able to find out anything, except that Odin’s spear – since that was what the pointed head of his walking stick looked like – had a powerful cloaking effect built into it, hiding whatever magic it had. Aside from that, however, all the elderly human god had done was stare into the eyeball and give the occasional grunt. And yet now he had apparently determined that some remnant of Hrothvitnir – or rather, Fenrir – yet remained within Kryonex’s eyeball. “Of course, there’s still plenty of that elemental demigod in there too, but not as much as you’d think,” continued Odin, before casually tossing the kickball-sized disembodied eye to Lex. “Which isn’t too surprising. Even dead, Fenrir’s tenacious. In fact, I’d wager that he was still there in the back of Kryonex’s mind the entire time, trying to reassert himself. He’s probably overwhelming what’s left of him in here now.” Telekinetically catching the eye, Lex frowned. What Odin had just said reminded him far too much of his own experiences with the beast from Darkest Night that he’d merged with. And if some shard of Kryonex’s personality remained alongside the progenitor wolf from Solvei and Akna’s mythologies, the last thing Lex wanted to do was implant such a repository in Solvei. “If that’s the case, then you should take this,” decided Lex after a moment’s consideration, moving the eye back toward the old man. Although it was doubtlessly a powerful relic, Lex had never chased power for its own sake. Magic, governance, wealth; all were simply tools that he’d coveted only for their use as implements in helping to improve the welfare of his people – and in doing so, he could admit to himself now, chase his futile attempts to compensate for his own defective personality, winning through massive overachievements what he couldn’t through simple interactions – and nothing else. Power that didn't serve as such an implement wasn’t something Lex cared about, and although it would mean that Solvei wouldn’t grow any stronger – at least, not this way – she would also be spared any further crisis of identity. From what she’d told him, merging two personalities into one had been less traumatic for her than it had for himself, but that was because Solvei and Akna had been in relative accord before their unexpected fusion. He doubted that Kryonex, or Fenrir, would be anywhere near as easy to deal with. Besides, this will spare me any further entanglements with the Aesir. That was a benefit in-and-of itself. Between Kryonex, Vystalaran, and even other members of the pony pantheon, the last thing Lex wanted was to get involved with yet another group of gods. Taking Kryonex’s eye had been an insurance policy, a last-second answer to the demigod’s crazed ranting that the Aesir would not stand idly by in the wake of his death. If giving the eye away now – rather than having to make good on what had, at the time, been little more than a spiteful taunt about having Solvei take Fenrir’s place – would sever any ties between himself and Odin’s pantheon, then Lex was more than happy to relinquish it. But the old man was already shaking his head, refusing to take hold of the eye. “No, lad,” he answered. “It was you who saw fit to recover Fenrir’s vestige, rather than allowing death to claim it. That means that you’re meant to have it.” Lex clenched his jaw at Odin’s refusal; it was as though elderly human was determined to avoid anything that could simplify things! “That’s deterministic palaver. If Fenrir has some sort of connection to your pantheon, then it makes the most sense-” “-to presume that now you do too, in some way,” interrupted Odin. “I told you before, lad, fighting fate results in much effort being spent to accomplish very little. It’s only when you accept it, and work with it, that you start to see new possibilities.” “This isn’t fate!” snapped Lex, losing his patience for what was sounding increasingly like superstitious garbage. “Fate is nothing more than an ill-defined term for when certain events are selectively imbued with unwarranted significance within the context of preexisting belief systems, ignoring or deemphasizing obvious factors in causal relationships in favor of groundless presumptions that are preposterously esoteric – and often ambiguous to the point of being unprovable – for why things happened as they did!” Again, he telekinetically thrust the glowing eyeball toward Odin. “I didn’t kill Kryonex because of what he’d done to Fenrir, and I didn’t retrieve his eye because I was acting as some sort of cosmic agent to preserve that wolf’s essence! All of those events, and the events that preceded them, were formed by decisions made by myself and other individuals, each asserting their own instrumentality within the pertinent circumstances that we found ourselves in! Nothing more!” Odin waited for a moment, and when Lex didn’t continue, he gave let out a slow breath. “I’ll admit I’m surprised.” Lex snorted, pleased to have put the patronizing elder in his place for once. “So now that we’ve established that-” “All cocksure young lads rant about being masters of their own fate at one point or another,” continued Odin, as though Lex hadn’t said anything. “But most of them treat pith as a virtue, rather than an enemy.” Lex dug his claws into the ground. “I’ve reached the limit of my patience-” “Let me ask you this: if I refuse to take this eye, will you simply throw it away?” The question brought Lex up short, glowering at the old man. He knew full well where that question was headed, but that didn’t mean he could do anything about it. “No.” “And why’s that?” “Because carelessly discarding a relic of great power would be irresponsible in the extreme,” answered Lex sullenly. “Indeed it would,” replied Odin with an approving nod. “Much like simply destroying it with that weapon of yours would be irresponsible as well, since it would only feed the creature within the quill.” Lex didn’t say anything to that, having already come to a similar conclusion. That he’d been able to absorb the godly power that Belligerence had taken had been completely beyond his expectations...but by that same token, Lex felt certain that it had to have been beyond the void creature’s also. But now, however, they both knew that, and since the thing clearly resented his stealing the divinity it had taken – to the point of expelling outward for anyone to collect rather than letting him take it – it was an open question whether or not he’d be able to do that again. It was entirely possible that, now that it knew that the divinity it took could be taken from it in turn, the void creature would absorb any more godhood that it took as fast as possible. Like someone chewing and swallowing their food before it could be snatched out of their mouth, there was no guarantee that Lex would be able to make the creature turn over stolen power in the future. Especially how, before he’d started taking Vystalaran’s divinity from the thing, it had been straining against its bonds. For all Lex knew, the thing had only expelled some of the avatar’s divine essence; there was no way of knowing if the sum total of what Lex had taken and what Belligerence had dispersed shortly afterward was the full amount that it had received from slaying Vystalaran. After all, the void monster had an intellect now; it was entirely possible that it would come to understand deception as a tactic. Lex had no intention of getting into more fights with gods, but that resolution meant little; he’d had no intention of fighting a battle to the death with Kryonex or Vystalaran either. And if Belligerence began to lay long-term plans for escaping, then the best way to go about that would be to judiciously horde small amounts of divinity for itself, even as it surrendered what would seem like the entirety of its spoils, until it had collected enough to burst its bonds in one fell swoop. Given how little Lex knew of the thing’s nature, capabilities, and intelligence, that wasn’t an implausible scenario. Which meant that no matter how much wanted to feed Kryonex’s eye to the ebony quill – if for no other reason than to spite the smug old human god – Lex knew he couldn’t do that. More to the point, he needed to refrain from using Belligerence against gods as much as possible. Now that he had a better understanding of the risks involved, turning the quill against a deity was now a measure of absolute last resort. Given what had happened when he’d tried to speak to the Night Mare before, counting on her to renew the binding if the void creature ever broke free would be...inadvisable. “And since you seem like a lad who can’t afford to spend all of his time sitting watch over that eye like a hen over an egg, I’d say that the most responsible thing you could do would be to give it to another,” continued Odin, seeming to have everything figured out. “But since I won’t take it, and you can’t afford to pass it off to someone who might have evil intentions, that means your list of acceptable candidates is quite small indeed.” “...” “It would have to be someone who you trust completely. Someone whom you could always watch over. Someone that has a great deal of personal compatibility with it, being a wolf like Fenrir as well as a creature of the cold, and so could take it into themselves, meaning that it couldn’t be purloined or pilfered.” Lex scowled, hating that he was somehow on the losing end of this exchange. “I won’t do that to her. After everything she’s been through, she deserves more than to spend eternity fighting two alien intelligences for control over her own mind.” Odin cocked his head. “You mean you didn’t collect Gleipnir also?” Lex looked up, his brow furrowed. “What?” “Gleipnir,” repeated Odin. “The binding chain that we used to imprison Fenrir on the Plane of Ice. It was enchanted by some of our greatest smiths specifically to restrain the beast.” Lex frowned. “I saw no chain. The only thing that Kryonex had when he took what I assume to be Fenrir’s form was this.” He produced the caparison as he spoke, his horn glowing as he held it aloft. “And it had no such restraints.” But rather than looking discouraged, Odin’s remaining eye widened. “Gleipnir?!” Before Lex could say anything, Odin darted forward and snatched the cloak out of Lex’s aura, looking it over with seeming much more care than he had Kryonex’s eye. For Lex’s part, he watched as the old man turned the icy garment over, frowning and muttering to himself as he seemingly examined each inch of it in detail. He even brushed it with the butt end of his runed spear, his brow furrowing more with each passing moment. “It is Gleipnir,” he pronounced after several minutes. “Somehow, it’s been completely reforged-, no, transmuted. It’s original function is still there, but to have its shape altered so much...there aren’t many even among the gods who could do that.” “And Kryonex was one such deity?” “Far from it,” murmured the High One, staring into the distance thoughtfully. “He was no crafter that I ever heard of. Which means-” “That he had assistance,” finished Lex. Odin nodded, one hand coming up to stroke his beard. “Which would explain how he was able to slay Fenrir to begin with. Even chained, that wolf should have easily overcome an ice elemental, no matter how strong they were. And when, we realized he’d been slain, we just assumed that Kryonex had thrown the chain away...but to have turned it into this...” But whatever intrigue the old man was contemplating, Lex was more interested in what he’d said a moment ago. “You said that it’s original function is still intact?” “Hm? Oh, yes, it is,” replied Odin absentmindedly. “The protective enchantments have all been tweaked to defend the wearer instead of restraining them, but its power to suppress Fenrir specifically-” “Is almost certainly why Kryonex kept it.” Odin nodded. “Now you’re catching on, lad. If he had the wolf in the back of his mind all the time, threatening to tear itself free and become the dominant personality, keeping Gleipnir on himself would have been the only way to keep Fenrir in check. In fact, I suspect that’s how he was able to absorb him in the first place without being totally overwhelmed.” “As can Solvei.” It wasn’t a perfect plan by any means; quite the opposite. But it would allow for Solvei to grow stronger – potentially markedly so – and that was something Lex couldn’t ignore. Not when Gwynharwyf had just slain one of the people he’d retained to protect Solvei and his other two soul-bound servitors; not when the eladrin or someone like her could come back at any time to kill or kidnap them. The next time that happened, it was highly unlikely that Sanguine Disposition – or anyone else – would show up out of nowhere to protect them. And if the alternative was losing more people he cared about, the risk was justified. All the more so since Lex knew how much Solvei had been tormenting herself recently over not being strong enough to be more of a help to him. “Well then, lad, it sounds like you know what you need to do,” announced Odin, lowering the cloak at last. “I assume your goddess will help make sure your wolf takes to the eye alright?” Lex fought back a grimace, recalling that Kara had already volunteered to help out in that regard. “Something like that.” Odin grunted at that, then shrugged. “Well, so long as it gets done. In the meantime, I need to start making some inquiries. Someone attempted to throw fate – the Aesir’s fate – for a loop, and that’s not something I can let stand.” He turned back to the portal then, walking briskly toward the gateway without so much as a backwards glance. Irritated at being ignored so abruptly, Lex glared at the old man’s back. “You still haven’t told me what significance Fenrir has to you!” “He kills me,” called back Odin, not missing a beat. “It’s my fate to die by his jaws come Ragnarok, the twilight of the Aesir.” Lex’s eyes widened, that having been the last answer he could have expected. “And you want to make sure that your own end comes to pass?!” Odin came to a stop a half-step away from the portal’s edge. “I’d have thought you’d have picked up on the clues by now, lad.” Glancing back at Lex over his shoulder, Odin’s remaining eye twinkled. “If death doesn’t have to be the end for mortals, why would it be for gods?” Then he strode through the portal, which abruptly closed behind him.