Merchant Of Yliaster

In a plane above the one a conventional one could comprehend, a castle stood in a forest of darkness. If one could see this place from above, possessing the necessary ocular means, they would see that the place was actually not only dark, but it was composed of different shades of shadows.

The trees, their leaves, and the dirt underneath all had a different shade of blackness to them, yet perceiving the difference was only someone with the shadow affinity could do.

There was something different in the plane now, marking the first moment in a couple of millennia that the plane faced anything different. Even in this dark world, a dark cloud slowly closed in on the castle, making the impenetrable shadows around it look like the normal spectrum of light.

In the castle, a different battle was going on, as figures could be seen inside. One of them was a woman with a beauty that would make worlds worship him throughout the multiverse, yet her current state of mind made her magnificence diminish.

Around her, her headpriests formed a circle, trying to shield her as the darkness tried to close in, and she tried to stabilise her realm. She had no idea what was happening, but it was getting no better despite her attempts.

"Tell the priests on the outer ring to self-sacrifice," Zeylin said through gritted teeth, as she tried to hold the darkness from claiming her realm. She never felt so insignificant as a higher concept tried to invade her realm like a plague.

It all started with the name that Mortal made her utter, and things quickly escalated. It all started as a blossom of darkness in her realm, but the blossom came with an undeniable feeling of danger that made her immediately break her connection to the mortal plane.

Now, she wished that she had actually killed that ridiculous guy before breaking the connection. Maybe she would feel better if she did that.

She felt power enter her being, as the lives in the outer ring disappeared, turning into sacrifices. Her believers could be many things, but hesitant was not one of them. She immediately used the metaphysical power she now had in spades to condense the darkness before her, finally managing to contain it.

It was a ridiculous humiliation to need sacrifices in her own realm to beat something, but she would purge this instance from any records after she dealt with this abomination. Repopulating the outer ring would be an easy task, as mortals would happily indulge in carnal acts with some encouragement.

As the darkness pooled before her, she relaxed, but her eyes widened as it suddenly started to move, forming a humanoid shape. It wriggled and twisted for a moment, and Zeylin found herself unable to prevent the change.

She watched as a terrible mask formed out of darkness on the humanoid figure, and she locked eyes with the mask, fascinated by it. It was the same mask the guy from the mortal plane wore, yet it was more. This was no mortal plane limited by the fragile rules of the universe, and it made it express itself in a much more fundamental way.

The mask's history flowed, and darkness quickly stabilized, and the humanoid shape suddenly turned into a stable figure of a man, dressed in a sleek suit. Zeylin felt something break in her mind, as memories she didn't know she had flowed, and she started trembling.

"Ah, he actually managed to make you say my name. After many cycles, life still can surprise me. Don't you agree, Lin?" the figure's voice echoed, making the realm tremble. Shadows shook, somehow getting darker. Priests around them fell to the ground, the energy inside their bodies going haywire.

His voice was smooth, but it had an indescribable quality that would make any mortal's mind shatter after hearing.

The goddess just stared at the unbelievable reality before her, still in shock. But her survival instincts were still sharp. She fell to her knees, immediately lowered her gaze, and spoke, her voice having a forced steadiness.

"Forgive us for forgetting, your highness," she said. The resistance she was feeling was gone now, and her realm was stable. The man before him, if he could be called a man, was just glancing around without a care in the world, and his face was still shrouded by his infamous mask.

"Oh, you had no choice. Some people truly have no sense of forgiveness. Don't you think just killing me would suffice for a single mortal life? He even purged me from the continuum," Drakhabgar said, his tone nonchalant.

"Yes, your highness," she said, not knowing what to say. The disappearance of Drakhabgar was a mystery, all the more so now, as no one seemed to remember the ancient god.

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

"Don't be like that, Lin. You even have your own little divine realm now. It's a bit tasteless, I should say, though. Nothing for shadows to consume, and all," he said, as he sat down on her throne. The throne was made so that no one other than her would be consumed by it, but it seemed to welcome the being before it with anticipation, letting him sit.

"I won't stay for long, I found someone really interesting, you know? That guy has a… okay, I should probably be a bit more careful after the last time. Let's say he is pretty special. I will be focusing on him for now. Be sure not to get in his way, okay? He even uses my name. I wonder what will happen when he tries that in higher planes."

"As you wish, your highness," Zeylin said, her voice hitching as she realized she probably made an enemy of someone valued by the madman before her. She knew that Drakhabgar probably didn't have much power right now, but she also knew that the man survived through something no one thought was survivable. She wouldn't risk everything trying to kill the god, now.

"Ugh, you used to be a lot more, what should I say? Fiery? That sounds wrong considering your aspect. Anyway, have fun, dear, I will be watching." The man said, his figure disappearing, letting the energy of darkness slowly dissolve back into the realm.

Zeylin felt the realm's energy return, and she was surprised to feel the tier of the energy. Fucking monster. She thought, as her realm's strength increased instead of weakening due to its quality.

She got up from where she was, trying to accept the reality before her. Only a couple of minutes ago, she remembered nothing of the mad god, and now, she would need to change all of her plans. Work of eons would need to be scrapped, and who knows how many things would become obsolete.

The fact that Drakhabgar assumed that she knew what he was talking about probably meant that the effects of the purge were not even fully gone, meaning that there would still be things she had no idea about.

She turned to her prophet, her strongest subordinate, before giving an order. "Start preparing the lower planes for war," She said. Memories were coming slowly to her, but there was one thing common to all of them. When Drakhabgar appeared on a plane, the war would follow.

Drakhabgar let his self move through the filaments of creation, and slowly descended, letting himself return to the soul of his savior. Anyone who knew him before would be appalled by the idea that he was subordinated to a mortal now, and even he himself found the idea ridiculous.

He, though, despite what other people would say, was a fair guy in his heart. The times when he was described by such a word were long forgotten, but he still remembered them.

If it wasn't for the anomalous mortal, Drakhabgar would have no means of returning, and his influence was clearly didn't mean much for the ridiculous soul of the mortal he was now inhabiting.

In one of the lowest planes in existence, the mortal managed to make someone say his name in a proper divine realm. The effect was immediate and strong, yet he still would need to fuse with the original part of himself in the mortal's soul. It was the first part of him actualized in this world, and it would be the foundation for everything else.

As he descended, he felt shackles slowly increase, making his thoughts slower, but he already felt better after the recent happenings. He was truly forgotten before, now, though, at least a single divine realm would remember him, making his existence much more grounded in the metaphysical plane.

No one could make the world forget, yet his enemies came very close to succeeding, making his existence a fickle one at best. Even now, he felt why he could still live, and it made him mentally smile as he slowly lost most of his mental faculties.

He could still feel it. The darkness still remembered. It sheltered him through the void, and his soul dove into one of the recently discovered universes. Distance lost meaning, as his old friend, who was present throughout the continuum, transported him, and he appeared before the soul of Maxwell Aurelius.

It was an interesting sight for even someone like Drakhabgar. He had no idea how the soul of this mortal could isolate itself from outside so effectively, but fortunately, it was too weak for now. Darkness, feeling his intention, momentarily overwhelmed the soul of the mortal, and he entered, fusing with his core.

He smiled as he felt the awareness of the mortal lock into him as if a mortal had any business being able to do something like that. It wasn't even the outer shell of his being, but the foreign part he brought from the divine realm. The part of himself that was truly divine, and not just a record of a time long forgotten.

It was ridiculous, as seeing him alone should be enough to kill this mortal, yet he kept staring at him. It was apparent that he was going through some agony to do this, but many in his long history would sacrifice their everything for the sight the man before him was now seeing, and they would still fail.

He glanced at the green glow around him, feeling his mind getting hazy. Life truly gives you solutions after you stop needing them, huh? He thought, looking at the unnatural soul of the mortal. If he had something like this in his time, he would be able to survive in a more stable manner; he was sure of that. In any way, Drakhabgar was not someone who would wallow in the past.

He let his mind relax, and sleep consumed him. He would wake up when the time was right.