The Hermit's Tale

by BlackRoseRaven

Entry Ten

Entry Ten

Over the past week I've experimented on and off with different enchantments, and again I've been forced to come back to this stupid pony enchantment for recording purposes. It's frustrating. But unfortunately, my entries using other spells have resembled this:

LOCATION: ROOM 2300. CONVERSATION WITH EXCELSIOR. CONVERSATION WITH PIPSQUEAK. EXIT ROOM. LOCATION: CENTRAL HALL. EXIT AREA. LOCATION: ANTERIOR HALL. EXIT AREA. LOCATION: EMPLOYEE OFFICE.

In other words, neither efficient nor very detailed. This narrative format is irksome and I dislike how it reflects upon me, but at the same time I have not found any other effective form of recording these entries. I dislike that these ponies seem fond of this form of irritating scripting. It annoys me. It's too informal and seems to put too much weight on minor incidents.

So for now, I've decided to continue allowing the enchantment to record information for me, which I will then edit when I have the opportunity. On a related subject, I wish to make a few notes regarding the week past:

- Antares Mīrus was employed as a messenger to Hel. Seeing as he is in liaison training in any event, this was suitable mission for him. He was accompanied by Trainee Valkyrie Prestige Luster and Terra, and all three performed their duties satisfactorily.

- We have begun a major overhaul of laws dealing with demons and Helheim. Pipsqueak is an exemplary employee.

- Aria has shown an eighty-eight percent approval rate. She is doing well in her new position and training the new Valkyries well alongside the other coaches.

- More Pious have been gathering outside of the Giant's Denial, bringing materials from their home realm to build their Cenobium. I have been informed that they have already completed a church in Looking Glass World, but have yet to begin spreading their so-called 'Holy Word.'

- I have made no contact with Gymbr. Following this report, I plan to head to his laboratory and attempt to speak to him.

I will now once more enable the enchantment and let it take over this process for me. I feel that recording my interactions with Gymbr are extremely important.

I sigh and sit back as I lower my hand, the magic taking hold. I'm tempted to open the safe and check the scroll, but... no, I can hear the faint scratching even through the metal across the room. I shift in my seat, and turn my eyes towards the notes I've written over the paper on the table. I'll combine that into the manuscript later.

I pick myself up and shake myself out, and I'm unable to stop myself from looking back at the letter again and smiling wryly. In spite of what I've written, my true feelings on the subjects are... mixed. Aria still hurts, and happy as I am that Antares is working out so far as liaison, I'm... concerned that Hel is only boosting his confidence in an attempt to manipulate him. Perhaps to manipulate us both.

At least the Pious are keeping to themselves, and using their own materials. They seem to be the most stable part of this forming equation, and what I'm least worried about. So I'm glad to leave them alone and out of mind while I instead focus on what has me most concerned at this moment in time: Gymbr, and the results of bonding the soulstone into him.

A large part of me wishes Terra was here... but I know I have to do this alone, and she's working, anyway. It's important that she works, continues to make a positive impression and help with Valhalla's trade business. It'll help when it comes time to review her permanent residency, which is something I've already had to exclude myself from, thanks to my... clear personal bias.

We spend... almost every free hour together. I think on this as I head for the door of my study, and it gives me a faint smile as I jingle the bracelet around my wrist, which feels... comforting these days, instead of weird. I don't realize it at the time, but my hand reaches over to play though the claws and teeth... all little pieces of Terra, made into this lucky charm.

Terra brings me a sense of peace, and helps me feel more positive about things. Reminds me that there's good things in the strangest of places. It's funny to be happy, and strange to find myself thinking of someone at all hours of the day and night when they aren't there beside me. Just like it's funny to be able to lay down next to someone, doing absolutely nothing, and yet feel... accomplished about it at the end of the day.

I head though the halls, still fiddling with my bracelet unconsciously. Employees and soldiers and civilians greet me, and I nod back to them here and there. My reputation has healed somewhat and my approval rating has returned more towards normal. Many of them still think of me as too weak of a negotiator or even incompetent, but I don't let that bother me. Maybe it used to, but these days it feels more like... no matter what happens, I feel like I have a buffer. I can be more confident in myself, and that I'm doing my best.

I reach the secret door in the less-traveled hall, and look back and forth for a moment before reaching up and touching it. It slides open silently, and I quickly step through and head down the staircase as the panels lock back into place behind me. I descend into darkness... and sigh in relief at the sight of blue-fire torches burning brightly and the strange, gemstone lanterns glowing with their own supernatural radiance.

“Kvasir... welcome.” Gymbr's voice is strong, and floats across the hall towards me. I look up in surprise as I stride into the hall... and my eyes widen further at the sight of the creature walking calmly towards me, looking strong, and healthy, and... smiling.

But he has reason to smile: his broken claws are folded back into silver hooves for the first time in as long as I can remember, and his body is restored and his coat gleaming, and no longer sweating rot. His mane and tail are a wreath of black fire with the faintest streaks of blue here and there twisting through it, and his eyes are lucid.

The only thing that catches my eye is the fact that... his flesh has sealed around what now looks almost like a glaring blue eye that takes up almost his entire breast. The dome of visible soulstone glows with dark, terrible light, making the fused flesh around it thrum eerily... but when Gymbr sees where my gaze has been drawn, the creature only laughs quietly and murmurs: “Do not fear it, Kvasir. We are strong. We are whole. We are powerful again...”

Gymbr raises a front hoof that clicks apart into a claw, gesturing calmly with it... and all of reality ripples, a blur of sound and light and... emotion twisting in arcs through the air around it, all made impossibly-tangible. I stare in disbelief at this show of power before the gleaming arcs vanish, and Gymbr smiles and lowers his head calmly. “And we are sane, and yours to command, Lord Kvasir. We were correct: we were an unraveled story, but now we have given ourselves new emphasis, new life... a new plot.”

Gymbr's voice takes on feminine tones, and I'm... surprised that it actually has made what I recognize maybe a little late is a stupid, inelegant pony joke. But I'm relieved, too, as I nod awkwardly and then smooth my dress jacket down, saying quietly: “I... I am admittedly very relieved to see how much your condition has improved, Gymbr. I don't think I have to explain why I may have been concerned before...”

The god-thing studies me, then nods before its claw locks back together in the form of a hoof, and it settles this to the ground as it says softly: “We understand, and we will be doing our best to prove to you that all we desire is to do... the right thing. To be a strong defender of Valhalla. And you, Kvasir, shall command us. We require only one thing more of you.”

I look uneasily at Gymbr, but the creature seems honest as it raises its head, saying quietly: “A final donation of your blood... leave your handprint upon our soulstone core. It shall connect us, and we shall acknowledge you as our master.”

“I... appreciate the sentiment.” I say slowly. It's difficult to think of any other way to phrase it. I don't want to reject this creature's offer, after all, but nor do I desire to be responsible for its actions... Gymbr, after all, is a powerful and dangerous force, and friend or not... no one should be in possession of this much power all at once.

That show of its strength that it had just performed... it reminded me not only why I was so eager to bring Gymbr on as a defender of Valhalla, but also why the creature puts such... fear into my heart. But... I know that I have responsibilities. And like it or not, this being is one of them: I brought this creature into Valhalla, and for better or worse, I can't simply say 'no' because of what it might do in the future, and that by doing this, I'm not only promising to continue to keep its secret... I'm going to open myself up to a brand new series of recriminations from the Valkyries as well.

So I nod slowly, and then I begin to reach into my jacket... but Gymbr only smiles and raises its tall obsidian horn, which glows with a strange, dark radiance before a black knife forms floating in the air in front of me. I reach out and catch this by the handle, and the creature says softly: “We apologize if we seem eager. We... suppose that we are, in a sense, but we are also enjoying... having our powers back. We would like to request a leave from Valhalla for some time, Lord Kvasir, once this final step is completed. We desire to test our powers in a place where we will not put anyone at risk, and will not have to worry about holding back. We desire to see the new extent of our strength, and to ensure that we will not begin to lose cohesion once more.”

I nod slowly, then look down at the knife. It feels solid, and real, and... dangerous, in a word. And to think... the creature simply created this with a thought. A feat of power far beyond my own strength; it's frightening.

I roll my sleeve back, then settle the blade against my arm and pull; with ease, it slices through my flesh, draws my blood, and red floods upwards, as if eager to be released from imprisonment inside my veins. It wets the dark metal and runs down my limb and over the obsidian substance of my hand: with the barest concentration, I guide the flow of my blood over my palm and fingers, leaving a semi-liquid glove of red masking the dark material.

Gymbr smiles at me as I draw the knife away, and I step towards the creature as it raises its head and pushes out its chest. The soulstone core gleams in its chest, and I swallow a little as I reach out and settle my hand over this, breathing slowly as I firmly push against it.

The god closes its emerald eyes, smiling, its breathing halting for a second... and then it sighs and shivers, as if in bliss. I stumble back with a wince, looking down at the handprint of red on the crystalline orb, then I watch as the blood slowly... no, it doesn't dissolve like I think at first. It's drawn inwards, absorbed, as the radiance of that soulstone heart glows all the brighter.

And then there's silence, and I'm left standing with the red-stained knife in one hand and my other arm still trickling blood. I look across at Gymbr as the god gazes back at me, and after a moment the creature smiles and says kindly: “We cannot thank you enough for accepting us, Lord Kvasir. We are glad you do not hold what we did to you in our broken storyline against us.”

I half-force a smile, and then shake my head slowly before clearing my throat and holding up the knife. Gymbr, with only a glance towards it, makes the weapon dissolve into smoke in my hand: this time it didn't even have to summon up any kind of magic. I'm also only vaguely reassured by the way the glow in its core is slowly fading out: it feels less like an acknowledgment as 'master' and more like it... like it took something from me.

But it's too late to do anything either way, and I sigh as I reach up and put two fingers against the thin wound in my arm, then draw them quickly over the mark. The wound seals closed immediately, leaving only a thin red line that quickly heals as the excess blood turns to steam. I flex my hand slowly... and then wince as Gymbr steps closer to me, uncomfortably so.

It looks at me with a smile, and I look nervously back before the creature says softly: “If you so desire, we can give you great power, Lord Kvasir. We have many gifts to give.”

Some part of me is repulsed by this thought. It flinches back like a rabbit scurrying for its burrow at the scent of blood, the crackle of the predator's approach. I shake my head too quickly, maybe shift too much away, and Gymbr looks almost disappointed before it glances away, murmuring: “Well, we cannot blame you. We have much to do to earn trust, we know.”

It stops, then looks up at me thoughtfully before saying kindly: “Well, it is fine. Perhaps others will accept our gifts... perhaps we shall offer strength to Terra, or if she does not require strength, then other tokens of affection. We have much to give... and look forwards to easing back into existence. Rejoining the ponies.”

I look at Gymbr, still feeling uneasy... but perhaps it's only because this thing is so... so strange, and different. It's trying so hard to reach us, but whatever the creature is has left it so far away that it's still communicating with... alien signals, and through unknown means.

I feel... sorry for the creature in that moment, I feel sympathy despite all my fears of being manipulated or used by it, but... with a single claw this thing could probably destroy Valhalla if it wanted to, and here it is, trying to be friendly, trying to connect with me and communicate with me, trying to talk about a future where it... belongs.

As it stands there, not seeming blank but at the same time, somehow disconnected from reality, I clear my throat before prompting carefully: “Rejoining the ponies... you mean, revealing yourself...”

“But only in time.” Gymbr nods and looks up at me, and I nod back: more a supplicant gesture than anything else, trying to show this being I'm not trying to rush it, not trying to push it. I simply want to try and... clarify things, and understand what it has in mind. “It may be difficult to believe, but... we direly wish to once more be known by the ponies. We wish to... save the ponies.”

This strikes me as strange, as I tilt my head and frown slightly, but Gymbr only smiles calmly as it looks up at me, shaking its own and murmuring: “Do not fear. We are not sure of what the future holds, but there are... many uncertainties on the horizon. From allies of Valhalla we are unsure of the qualities of, to Hel's forces.”

“Hel wanted to meet with you.” I decide it's best to just say it, and I study Gymbr's reaction: his eyes narrow slightly, his features shift subtly towards the masculine, he straightens a little. He's not happy about the thought of meeting with Hel, and I actually find myself a little surprised by this reaction, so I decide to press the subject a little. “She was... insistent.”

“Of course she was. She fears our power. We are stronger than her, better than her.” Gymbr says calmly but clearly, raising its head proudly as it steps back. “Hel has no vision. We possess great vision, and do not require the aid of thousands of Archives to rule. A single claw would be enough to keep our universe in its grip, in perfect order. And unlike Hel, we give true rewards to those who earn them. Bestow strength upon those we care for... but Hel cares for no one apart from her own self.”

I look uneasily at Gymbr. The creature has become so... so sharp all of a sudden. But after a moment, it shakes its head quickly and looks up, relaxing and loosening up. “Our apologies. We... forgot ourselves for a moment. We are strong and lucid, but still... very proud, and we do not desire to simply stand by and allow your enemies to frustrate you, Lord Kvasir.”

“Hel is not an enemy. She is... a necessary ally.” I say slowly, and Gymbr shifts slowly, then nods and lowers its head politely.

“We will listen to your wisdom, but... know that Hel is not irreplaceable. Not now that we are rejuvenated.” Gymbr is calm, pleasant, but the implication of what it's saying makes me nervous. I frown a little at the creature, but he only looks back at me for a few moments before smiling. “Do not fear us. We are now yours to command. You have helped shape and give us our purpose.”

Why does that not reassure me? Why does that just make me... even more afraid, for some reason? I study Gymbr for a moment, but the creature is quick to take the initiative, saying politely: “If Hel desires to meet with us, we shall be civil and polite to her so long as she remembers that we are meeting on equal terms. We desire to meet her here, if it is possible.”

“That shouldn't be a problem. I'll send a message to Hel, likely via Antares. These serve as good training missions for him.” I reply, and for a moment, Gymbr seems... is that longing I see in its emerald eyes? Its whole demeanor changes, visibly becomes softer, gentler: not necessarily more feminine, but... more tender, loving, parental.

“Antares Mīrus... our miracle. Our salvation.” Gymbr looks up, then smiles more. “And Innocence... the daughter we most desire to see. We cannot have children, Kvasir... our children will always be nothing but monsters, to be chained, collared, controlled, or killed. How we envy Scrivener Blooms and Luna Brynhild and their beautiful, wonderful Twilight Sparkle...”

Gymbr stops, then murmurs: “We shall never make the mistakes we made with Twilight Shadow again, Lord Kvasir. We did not free her, only destroyed her... as we brought ruin to Celestia, to the rest of our family. Oh, and Scarlet Sage... I long for her, as well. For all our lost friends and family... but we will rebuild them. We will do it right this time, we swear, for we do not wish to destroy but create. We believe we can finally reach that purpose now...”

My nervousness is worsening. I shift uneasily, and touch my bracelet as I automatically slide back from the god... and Gymbr shakes his head, looking up and giving a small laugh. “We apologize. You know our history; we suppose it must be disconcerting for you to hear us speak so but... know that we do not mean we will recreate our family the way we did in the past. We wish to... be accepted by those who already exist. Not transform them into monsters.”

I nod slowly, but I still feel a tickle of unease. Even with how much I want to trust Gymbr, how much I emphasize with him... this conversation is starting to bring up worrisome thoughts. I'm second guessing myself, and wondering more and more about Gymbr's intentions,what his goals are. Family and friends I can understand but... it sounds like there's something beneath his words, like he has something else in mind...

I lose myself in a fog of thought for almost half a minute before I realize that I'm just standing here, playing with my bracelet. I wince and hurriedly drag myself back to reality, but Gymbr is only standing there, studying me in the silence, looking almost... enthralled. It's not a comfortable way to be looked at by such a powerful deity: as I've learned, affection can very quickly sour into pain... or worse.

“We understand that you are worried, but you do not need to be. We are sane and stable, and we have no ulterior motive, no hidden agenda.” Gymbr says softly, and then it bows its head cordially. “We would like to make a request: in a few days, come and visit us again with Terra. We like her. We enjoy her presence. And during that time, we will test our new strengths and weaknesses and report them to you, Lord Kvasir. Perhaps that will assuage your concerns.”

I hear... something eager beneath its cultured, calm words. But all the same, I nod uneasily before straightening and saying as normally as I can manage: “Of course. That sounds like it would be beneficial for all of us.”

“That is our thought as well.” Gymbr smiles at me. That calculating, cunning smile, that has so many different layers to it... but beneath everything, is composed of sharp fangs in a hungry mouth that belongs to a twisted god made from malice and cunning, from love and hate, from pain.

I should never let myself forget that.

I've edited out some useless narration to move directly into my second meeting with Gymbr. I believe that structuring the narrative thus gives the best overall glimpse of Gymbr and his behaviors. The narrative resumes from after I've led Terra down the stairs and into the laboratory.

I'm thankful to see that everything is as brightly lit as it was the last time I was here: I'm still certain it's one of the few tells as to Gymbr's mood and sanity. Terra seems to take reassurance in it as well, but more than that, she seems intent on trying to reassure me, smiling at me an reaching up to gently touch my back. “It's okay, Lord Kvasir. I believe Gymbr.”

“You haven't seen or spoken to Gymbr. You're essentially saying that you believe Gymbr if I believe Gymbr, which is a polite way to avoid praising my ability to judge a person's character or silently denouncing me as an idiot for trusting him.” I mutter in response, and Terra leans over and pushes her cold nose against the side of my neck, making me grimace and shove at her, a faint flush crawling up from my collar. “Not in public.”

“This isn't public.” Terra teases, and I give her a sour look, one of my hands slowly clenching, and Terra winces a bit before she says in a gentler voice: “Lord Kvasir, please calm down. It's going to work out fine. I believe that Gymbr is okay: if he wasn't, there's no reason he would be continuing a charade of servitude, now is there?”

“Terra is correct.” Gymbr says softly as we approach the bottleneck corridor, and Terra smiles supportively as I look up moodily. But the god doesn't approach us: instead, it invites: “Please, join us. We would like to share something with you.”

I don't like the sound of that, but Terra happily barges ahead... yet even though she shoves me aside and tromps happily into what could be an ambush, I know enough about the way she works to be thankful for it. She's put herself between me and Gymbr, and risked setting off whatever trap or ambush could have been ahead.

I follow slowly, and I'm glad to see it was only stress and paranoia... and furthermore, surprised when I see that Gymbr is seated calmly at a round, marble table, resting back in a massive black throne. There are two more chairs on the other side of it: one is comfortable and cushioned with a solid oak frame, the other is a massive half-mat, half beanbag chair. Terra all-but-pounces into the last, and I sigh and shake my head slowly.

She looks very content on the chair that I can't help but think is stupid. My own chair is comfortable and fits my body easily: it doesn't look like much, but it does the job it's designed for... a metaphor for the way I like most things in life.

Gymbr smiles at us knowingly, and as I tent my fingers on the table, Terra nods in gratitude. I study the god: it doesn't take a genius to figure out the creature has created these objects specifically for us. In a subtle way, it's just very clearly demonstrated that it knows us better than we think.

Then the creature simply raises a claw as its horn glows, and the soulstone core in its chest gives its own faint pulse: a moment later, silverware and dishes appear in front of myself and Terra. A wine bottle appears to fill a tall glass, while a dark red substance is poured into a goblet by a floating barrel in front of Terra. Food appears over our plates; fish and meat and thick red gemstones for my demon companion, and salads, a few dumplings, and a grilled cod for me.

Gymbr looks at us, and Terra stares in disbelief over the food as the barrel and bottle silently set themselves down off the table and out of the way. I, meanwhile, pick up my glass and swirl it once, then sip at the wine and close my eyes... before nodding slowly, murmuring: “Aged twenty years. A hint of cinnamon, and... smoke, absorbed through wood. This isn't just Manna.”

“It is more.” Gymbr agrees softly, calmly... proudly. It looks for a moment like a child showing off a new trick, as it gestures easily with both forelimbs out over the table. “The food is real. The table is real. We are able to not merely alter reality, or create simulacrum... we create reality. Our strength is greater than before. We are beyond the limitations of any god. We are strong.”

I shift uneasily, and Terra looks up hesitantly before asking: “But can you create life?”

Gymbr's emerald eyes slowly turn to her, and the creature studies her for a few moments before it bows its head and says softly: “We did not think it would be 'right' to try. We are lucid, and sane. We fear that if we do not limit ourselves, we may fall into old ways.”

There's silence for a few moments, and then I nod slowly and swirl the wine. Real wine. Creating most substances temporarily is a feat of strength. Creating a specific object is even greater. A simulacrum, that eventually fades away or dissolves? Greater still.

But making real food, real drink, real materials? The level of power is staggering. And the implication of such an ability... think about it. To be able to create raw materials whenever you liked, or food wherever, whenever it was needed. It's the answer to a thousand problems... or, is the unfortunate way our world works, it is a disaster waiting to happen.

I shake myself out, then look up as Gymbr says quietly: “Please eat. We may discuss my powers more in a moment... but we will make one suggestion. We must remain a secret for now. We do not wish to start a clamor over what we are capable of, or to face suspicion, fear and hostility until... we are fully in control, and fully comprehend the enormity of our own abilities.”

That also sounds ominous. I grimace a little, looking uneasily at Gymbr before I state slowly: “You're implying, Gymbr, that you don't entirely know your own strength...”

“We expected to be powerful. We did not expect to be so powerful that we must limit ourselves, for fear of what we may become compelled to do otherwise.” Gymbr replies calmly, then it smiles kindly. “But you are our... safeguard, if we may refer to you as such. Your blood is inside us, inside our very heart of hearts. We are keyed to you, and you may control us.”

I look up in surprise at this, then glance down at one of my hands automatically, thinking of the core, of that short, strange ritual, before Terra frowns and leans up, asking slowly: “Kvasir can order you to do... anything... but what's to stop you from...”

“We cannot harm him. We promised. We cannot break our word to Kvasir, any more than we may lie to him. We used old magic, powerful magic, to complete the ritual... in a sense, we have... willingly placed his knife in our heart.” Gymbr reaches up and touches its visible soulstone core, smiling at us. For some reason, though, it sends a chill down my spine instead of making me feel more in control. “It is his knife. It is his hand on the grip. With ease he could twist it, to punish us... to destroy us. We feel this is best.”

I feel nauseated. And more than a little afraid. I swallow a bit at this thought, then shake my head slowly as I carefully put down the cup of wine before my trembling fingers can spill it. I look down at the plate of food in front of me, and then slowly draw my eyes up to Gymbr even as I feel Terra's claw settle on my shoulder, and she leans towards me worriedly.

Gymbr: the most powerful creature I have ever seen, and I'm the one holding the leash. To do my orders, follow my bidding... a creature that I know has a sadomasochistic, literal mindset. That knows me better than I know it, and can likely manipulate me better even if he really was nothing more than a puppet on a string, and I the puppeteer. But also a creature that would destroy an entire world – or worse, and how it sickens me to think that this entity can easily inflict suffering far worse than death – without hesitation if that planet somehow got in the way of completing its objective.

Why does it frighten me? Because this much power does not simply act as a deterrent... it acts as a magnet, drawing in challengers, or people who want it for themselves. Because one wrong order could make Gymbr annihilate an entire city instead of a single enemy. Because I am the one who brought Gymbr to Valhalla in the first place, I am the one who hid him away, I am the one who bargained with Hel for the soulstone core that has apparently made him even more powerful than he already was... and I have this terrible sensation, in the back of my mind, that I am the scapegoat and figurehead Gymbr wants to hide behind, not the true master.

And of course, to truly prove my terrible judgment and inability to handle this situation, there's the fact that I can't help but still want to trust this creature.

I breathe slowly in and out, and Gymbr smiles soothingly, saying quietly: “You have many worries. That is fine, and expected. It is why we suggested we stay secret for now. And do not fear that we will use you to hide behind, Lord Kvasir, or this is some ploy on our part: it may be foolish to try and reassure you through our words alone that we have no designs against you or Valhalla, but... we do not. We no longer desire to play the villain. We wish to be... something different.”

“Let's... take a moment to sit back and think. That might be best for everyone.” Terra says carefully, and then she smiles a little and reaches up, picking up the enormous goblet and sniffing it. She squeezes my shoulder as I sit back, feeling ill, feeling worried, but I can't help but sigh and feel exasperation wash away some of that horrendous unease rippling through me as she toasts: “Well, to... to new friends and better days.”

Gymbr smiles, and when Terra looks at me pointedly, I sigh and pick up my wine glass, then wince when Terra bangs the goblet it into it almost hard enough to knock it out of my grip. I glower at her as I lean back a bit – even as I take comfort from the claw still on my back – and then I sip slowly at my drink as Terra gulps down that strange, thick red substance.

I swirl the wine, then swallow it down... and admit my real fear to myself as I do so. My real fear isn't the responsibility of looking out for Gymbr, but... of myself. Of what I would like to do with such power already, as I shiver a little at the thought of it, then look silently down towards the dish of food. Food, an import-export issue that I could now solve...

And Gymbr means... all our necessary allies are no longer strictly necessary. There's still the issue of numbers, yes, and how many soldiers we need to have in order to efficiently defend the Vale and Castle of Valhalla and deploy in the field, but... perhaps Gymbr can provide even that...

I can be great. I can be successful. I can be powerful, have... anything I wanted. Finally see my plans enacted in full and... yes, it's all for the benefit of the ponies and Odin's projects and the honor of Valhalla, but I'd no longer be left... sitting back in the shadows, the forgotten desk jockey who negotiates instead of fights like a true warrior. Well, finally, even the true warriors would have to acknowledge what I'd done... that I am a worthy heir to Valhalla.

These thoughts are terribly tempting. And I know that these thoughts are also toxic, and mistruths if not flat-out lies, and can and will only lead to pain and suffering. After all, my role in the same story that created Gymbr is little more flattering.

I close my eyes at this thought, shaking myself out uneasily. I realize then, more than I ever have before, how easy it must be to take a single step off the path and tumble down into darkness. How simple it must be to become a villain in everyone else's eyes...

Terra's claw grips into my shoulder, squeezing it slowly, and I look towards her. She smiles at me, supportive, there for me... and I smile faintly back after a moment, just... letting myself be comforted in that moment. Letting her presence wash over me and marveling how... even though we're both seated here, in front of this perhaps all-powerful deity, and yet it's not Gymbr that's the most powerful thing in my vision. It's Terra.

I know that's not rational, and I reflect on how easily the rational mind is overwhelmed by the emotional. And how strange it is to sit in the company of this creature that is so... other, and not shrug off Terra's touch, Terra's affection, and display my own emotional vulnerability. Do I trust Gymbr that much? Or do I just trust that the creature is so strange that it likely cannot understand whatsoever what these emotions mean?

I settle back after a moment, breathing slowly in and out as I straighten up and look down at the food in front of me. The lettuce of my salad is crisp, the cod is so warm it's steaming. I don't feel like eating, but I pick up a fork all the same and squeeze it slowly in my fingers: it feels like real silver. Gymbr can create... can do... anything. Whether I'm in control of the creature or not, it would not be wise to risk offending it, especially at this point.

I look across at the entity, and the god-thing smiles at me and gestures with one hoof: for some reason, the fact he's regained his ability to hide his claws doesn't reassure me. It makes me think of Scrivener Blooms and his own hidden claws, which leads me into wondering silently if one day, a second Gymbr might rise... but I put these thoughts out of mind when the creature soothes: “Eat. You shall feel better, and then we shall show you that we are honest about our desire to serve you. To be a force of good.”

Good... I'm not sure I strictly believe in good and evil. After all, Valthrudnir desired 'good' things, and his aspirations included destroying the known universe to pave the way for his own perfect reality. A reality that... I know would had been only the start to some much-larger process. Our universe is much larger than what we use the word to describe, after all: our ninety nine layers are their own microcosm, and there are... countless other worlds out there, perhaps as protected as our own, perhaps stranger and wilder than our controlled, geocentric Midgard.

Terra eats much more heartily than me: she uses mainly her claws, which even at the moment I find disgusting enough to lean away from her awkwardly, revulsion pushing through the mass of confusion and worries in my mind. Her appetite is ravenous and her lack of manners atrocious, and even Gymbr seems to find the show a little... disconcerting.

When she looks up with gleaming eyes, licking her lips greedily and chewing up the last of one of the red gemstones, Gymbr sighs but creates another plate of food for her without being asked. His features shift subtly, becoming more masculine and moody as he leans away, and I'm surprised that it's this of all things that actually makes the god-entity seem more... relatable.

The food is good, but sits like a weight in my stomach with all the implications of Gymbr's abilities still running around in my head. Terra apparently doesn't have that problem, because in the time it takes me to finish my one plate, she's gobbled down four. I envy her for that, and I'm thankful for the way that in spite of everything she still stays close to me, and she somehow manages to comfort me through all the worries and confusion running around in my mind.

When we're both done, Gymbr's horn glows, and the dirty plates vanish. Destruction is much easier than creation, but all the same, it's impressive. He levitates the barrel and bottle to refill our respective cups, and I study him silently for a few moments before nodding once as the containers float away, picking up my glass and asking: “Why haven't you eaten yourself?”

“We neither need nor desire to.” Gymbr says almost dismissively, shaking its head. “It may strike you as strange, but we desire to be careful, to keep close watch on ourselves. If we begin to give in to every urge, no matter how small at first, we fear that we may collapse into old ways. We wish to avoid that, Lord Kvasir.”

I nod slowly. I think it's being honest. I think it really does want to start over, to serve Valhalla and eventually integrate itself into society... but a specific concern gnaws at me as I glance up and force myself to ask: “Do you want to replace Luna Brynhild and Scrivener Blooms?”

Gymbr chuckles quietly at this, then smiles as it responds: “We do not blame you for believing this. How could we? But we do not, because we are not Luna Brynhild, and nor are we Scrivener Blooms. We are Gymbr.”

It's not the answer I expected, to be honest. I know that even if it had plans to try and replace the beings the entity was made from in the story that first gave it life as a Tulpa, it wouldn't tell the truth... but in the past it's always been proud of its strange heritage, the two beings that form its singular duality.

It helps me believe that it's being honest, though... or at least, it's trying to be. I'm concerned that in the future it might attempt to 'adopt' the children of Luna and Scrivener through fair means or foul, that it might even try and wiggle its way into the lives of other ponies... but for now, the entity itself said it wishes to remain a secret.

This, of course, has its own bevy of concerns. I swirl the wine in my glass as I finally feel some composure, some strength of character returning to me. Terra is picking her teeth beside me with one claw, acting like this is nothing but some informal lunch with an old friend, which is... oddly reassuring in its own way. She has sharp senses, and I know she wouldn't relax if she sensed any kind of hostility from this god-thing.

I begin to open my mouth, to ask my question, but Gymbr surprisingly beats me to it: I don't think he's able to see into my mind, but sometimes I forget how well the creature seems to know me. Which is dangerous and foolish and perhaps a little naïve on my part, and yet all the same... it keeps happening. “We do not desire to create a disturbance before the worlds are ready for us. Before preparations are made and failsafes in place, in case of... problems. We shall be patient. We shall bow to your will and desires, Lord Kvasir.”

I nod slowly, and then ask quietly: “So you're willing to stay here, then, until we can better figure things out? But what if I need your assistance with something... furthermore, Gymbr, do you understand what it means to try and be a force of order, to fight for Valhalla? I cannot risk... using you, for lack of a better term, if you're going to cause collateral damage.”

“We know this. And we desire you to keep this in mind: no matter what we do, no matter what our actions may seem like, we shall always do what is in Valhalla's best interests. We shall protect you and your legacy, Lord Kvasir. We make this oath.” Gymbr says softly, and I look across at the creature with... how can it reassure me and yet just make me all the more worried at the same time? And why do I get the feeling that it's sensing something, that there's something specific it's trying to warn me about?

All the same, I just nod again, then glance at Terra. She's studying the creature intently, looking slowly over Gymbr before she asks curiously: “What do you think of the new alliance with Helheim, then? I mean, we might not need your power with the Archives backing us, and Hel letting us access them freely. Especially because, you know, we've got all this help from the Pious and others, too.”

Gymbr looks ruffled at this, and I admire Terra's courage in poking at this creature so glibly. Even if I do have ultimate power over the god-thing, I don't think I could ever bring myself to purposefully irritate it.

The entity is quick to catch itself and calm itself down, though, closing its eyes for a moment before looking up as the features seem to... ripple again, take on a strange, feminine hardness. It looks at us for a few moments, then answers softly: “All of them may betray you, though. We shall never betray you. We shall always do what must be done to protect Valhalla. To protect the layers. To protect this universe... that is our new, self-given goal.”

Protect the universe... it's a little chilling. I don't even know why it strikes me as almost menacing... no, I do. How many 'protectors' are really tyrants? How many fortresses are only cages? And does Gymbr know the difference?

I shake my head slowly, but that's another worry for another time. Better for now to focus on the present, and what I can work out with Gymbr.

Terra looks at me pointedly, and I give her a mild look in return before I turn my eyes back towards Gymbr. The creature only smiles in response, and it takes me gesturing to it to speak for it to finally say quietly: “Do not fear, Lord Kvasir. You may request anything of us that you like. And we shall bow to your words on this matter, as we shall in all matters.”

“Reassuring.” I say dryly: it's not. There's a subtle hint of patronization or mockery in the creature's voice... maybe both. Or maybe that's just my imagination, I don't know. “I'm glad for your goals, Gymbr, and I hope that you can live up to them. And while I recognize that there are many reasons you might have to conceal your presence, I'm curious as to which is the most important to you. Which you consider is the greatest reason for you to remain hidden.”

Gymbr looks at me thoughtfully for a few moments, and then it suddenly smiles at me, which makes me feel... awkward. Uncomfortable. “We believe the greatest reason we have to remain hidden for now is because those who made us will be the most suspicious of us. We fear that they may try and turn you against us, barring a demonstration of your control over us. And you seem very hesitant to assert your power over ourselves, Lord Kvasir.”

“Well, what should I do?” I ask moodily, fully aware of the irony of asking my self-proclaimed servant exactly what I should order it to do. “Should I make you create more food? File tax forms? Dance? All these things seem like particularly wasteful uses of your range of abilities.”

“Then we would ask you to have us do something that is not wasteful of our abilities.” Gymbr replies with a strange eloquence. I scowl a little at the creature, and Terra coughs before I give her a soul look as well when I realize that she's trying to suppress a grin.

Part of me hates her at times like this. Part of me envies her ability to take even things like this in such stride. All of me knows that I need her, and now more than I ever have before. I sigh quietly, then turn my attention once more to the god-thing, saying carefully: “I'll consider the ramifications of your powers and come back to you with an answer once I have found something suiting for your range of talents.”

Except what could possibly be anything but trivial to a god that can create reality, and to an extent that even it seems to yet have to fully comprehend? I shake my head a little as Gymbr studies me with... interest, I think. Being studied by Gymbr with curiosity makes me feel like I'm an ant being studied with curiosity by a terror from the Void. It is not a reassuring feeling.

After a moment, however, Gymbr shows a surprising amount of diplomacy by broaching a subject I hadn't actually expected it to bring up, despite how often it's led with the promise to in former conversation: “Then in the meantime, allow us to share with you our vulnerabilities, if you would like. We have ascertained at least one serious weakness that we still possess.”

I nod slowly, then gesture for it to go on as I pick up my glass in my other hand. Take a sip of the wine, and then glance down at the cup as I swirl the liquid in my mouth; I feel the cool liquid tickle around my teeth, its smoky aftertaste saturating my tongue. I still can't get over the fact that this isn't wine that's been aged for years and prepared for a special occasion: this is a mass of particles assembled by the god-entity in a matter of seconds at the moment it was desired.

We are in the presence of a true creator, conversing with a thing beyond the actualized concept of 'god,' eating food it has made for us from thin air, drinking liquid it created from the same.... and now it wants to calmly confess how we can perhaps... kill it.

I can't lie and say that I'm not glad for it. The information, after all, will be recorded in my scrolls. Assuming that they're not tampered with, this crucial information will be passed on if something happens tome before I can do so myself, along with the log of this entire surreal experience, from which better minds than mine might be able to get a glimpse of Gymbr's motives, personality, whatever tells or secrets are hidden in his words and actions.

“Antimagic harms us badly. Weakens us. Our soulstone core, unfortunately, acts as a much greater receptor for such vibrations and energies than our horn.” Gymbr says quietly, and I frown and lean forwards intently. It's not the greatest news, perhaps, but it is an important tool, and one that even I can wield against it... albeit carefully.

The issue is that as a homunculus, antimagic tends to have excruciatingly painful effects on myself as well. I'm not simply a pasted-together god, after all, I'm what you could call a 'magical construct' by my strictest definition. Not a term I'm precisely eager to apply to myself, of course, but one that's true all the same.

A vulnerability that we both share... it brings with it a ludicrous sense of kinship to this deity. I shake myself quickly out, then force myself to focus only on the dry facts as the creature continues in a calm voice: “It is so far the only thing that we know of capable of truly devastating us... but we know that there may be other holes in our defenses as well. We are not impenetrable, and we now wear our heart bare upon our own breast.”

“Will you be armoring or protecting that? I suspect pure physical trauma to that area might cause you more than a little distress.” I say, mostly to judge the creature's reaction: the point is a rather obvious one, after all.

But Gymbr only smiles and shakes its head slowly, replying in soft tones: “We shall not, unless it is absolutely necessary. We have learned that our soulstone core can also be harnessed for great feats of power... and we recognize that the idea of having such an open vulnerability somehow soothes you, does it not?”

I don't reply to this. I stay silent, shifting to sit back before Terra asks uneasily: “But what if you had to fight... say... someone like Hel?”

“Hel is no match for us.” Gymbr says softly, but with such terrible confidence, such dangerous pride... and worst of all, there's not a trace of arrogance in its tone. It believes itself to be as powerful, more powerful than Hel... and both Terra and I are forced to recognize that this isn't just bravado. This is an undeniable truth, and Gymbr knows it.

There's silence, silence that that spirals out into minutes, because neither Terra nor I know how to reply, and Gymbr has said everything that he needs to say.

Comments

[BarrenBaron]

So Gymbr is back, kinda hoping he isn't going to suddenly become a douche-nozzle, but my hopes aren't high given the mortality rate of persons/ponies of interest in your stories... not to mention how his entire debut story is basically a slow slide to hell (albeit a interesting once).

But while on topic of Gymbr, I have a weird fascination with names, and whether or not they're of significance to the character's actions or not, so where did Gymbr come from? Assuming it isn't actually a prophetic name or some allusion?