The Tears of Kas̆dael

Meditating proved a task easier said than done. As Jasper sat down and closed his eyes, he found himself fighting to focus. There were too many things competing for his attention: the horrors of the ruined city, the Bloodspiller's slaughter of the villagers, playing bait for the rampaging wyrm, Ihra's death. It was the first time in days that he'd had the chance to stop and reflect on everything that had happened, and he was swiftly overwhelmed as all the horrors came rushing over him at once.

I am the River that flows around all things; I am the rock around which all flows. Slowly, painfully, he let the waters carry the fears downstream, let the rock root deep in the riverbed as the images of death and ruin bombarded his mind. And as his spirits calmed, the door clicked open.

He opened his eyes as a cold draft ran down his back, a wind cold enough to freeze bone and flesh instantly if he were actually physically there. Instead, he shook it off with a shudder and took a quick step back as he realized he'd manifested outside the hall of S̆uḫruru, and beside the unfathomable chasm that split the temple from the city.

"Kas̆dael?" He spun around slowly, taking great care not to trip as he moved away from the drop-off, but the goddess was nowhere to be seen. "I guess she must be inside," he muttered, and wandered off into the dead gardens that surrounded the entrance to her temple.

The winding paths weren't easy to navigate, but after a few false tries, he found a door into S̆uhruru. As Jasper stepped inside, the bitter cold was slightly lifted by the thousands upon thousands of candles that lined the walls and floors - or at least he thought it was. In truth, the change was so subtle he wasn't sure if it was actually warm, or if the cheery light of the candles simply tricked him into perceiving it as such.

There was only one path forward through the candles and, following it, he soon reached her central sanctum. "Kas̆dael," he called out again, fully expecting to find her, but, again, only silence greeted him. Where the hell is she?

It had been a long time since he had traveled past the great hall, and he was forced to double back as he wandered down a dead end that had clearly been a dormitory for priests once upon a time. Eventually, though he stumbled onto the corridor that led to her throne room, but that too proved empty. Thoroughly confused and a touch worried by now, he pressed on, passing through untold numbers of abandoned rooms and halls until, at last, the silence was broken by a sound up ahead.

Hurrying down the hall, he paused outside the door and listened carefully, relieved as he recognized the voice as Kas̆dael's, though he couldn't hear whoever she was talking to.

"My lady?" He knocked on the door politely, and receiving no response, tried the handle. She had her back to him, bent low over a table, but as the door creaked open, she turned around.

"Oh, I hadn't even noticed you arrived, Jasper," she sighed, and as she stepped away from the table, he realized she wasn't alone. Lord Dipāru was sprawled across its surface, but it didn't seem to be a friendly examination. His legs and arms were bound with thick silver chains, his eyes were shut tight, and his body seemed abnormally still.

"Is he…dead? He didn't try to attack you did he?" Jasper asked, immediately kicking himself for agreeing to help the god cross over to their world. "I didn't know what to do when he asked to come. I didn't think we could make it out on our own, but bringing him along seemed risky…and, of course," he rambled on, "it just seemed cruel to leave him there when he seemed to be the only sane creature left in that hellscape, but-"

But Kas̆dael dismissed his concerns with a weary smile. "The son of Nur will be fine, Jasper. He's bound for his own good right now, as it will take some time before I can fully dispel the corruption that clings to him, but he poses no risk to me."

His shoulders slumped in relief. "Oh, thank heavens. You had me worried there," he grinned back at her. "So he'll really be alright?"

"The struggle he'll face now has little to do with the corruption still bound to him," the goddess replied. "It is rare for a splinter of a god to survive the death of its greater part, and my brother is a jealous lord; he will not abide a rival sun god to stand at his side. I am not sure if he will survive the transition to this world, or end up fading as Nur did, but if he dies, then at least he shall pass in peace. Either way, you did him a great kindness."

"It would be a shame if he died after all that," Jasper frowned. "To spend aeons trapped in a ruined world, only to die shortly after rescue…"

"I never said he would die, Jasper - merely that his transition remains uncertain. His best hope is to reach a deal with my brother and be assimilated as one of his aspects; his survival will likely be guaranteed then, but if they cannot reach an agreement," she shrugged, letting the implication linger before continuing. "But I imagine you didn't come here to check in on Dipāru."

"I didn't even know he'd be here," he admitted. "Truthfully, I came because I was hoping I'd receive a special reward for helping Lord Dipāru escape; now I just feel bad for counting on that," he shot a guilty glance at the god strapped to the table behind her.

"Lord Dipāru's fate is not in your hands," Kas̆dael replied softly, as she offered her cold, pale hand to him. "And I think you will find you have earned the reward he sought."

Jasper blinked as the screen popped up in front of him, and his eyes quickly flitted over the details. He'd gained fewer levels than he'd expected in his main class, just fourteen, which fell short of unlocking the next benchmark for his class, much to his disappointment. I guess I've hit the point where the levels really slow down.

But his disappointment was largely dispelled when he looked at his secondary class. "Whoah, what did I do to earn this?" he asked Kas̆dael. "I don't remember having a quest from you."

"You didn't, but you fought a foe of mine nonetheless." Kasdael looked away, chewing on her lower lip pensively. "I take it Lord Dipāru did not speak to you of the origin of the mimmul?"

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"No?"

"The mimmûl is the death that comes to all, the darkness that extinguishes every light. It is the cause of my ascension, and the final foe I face before the world is reborn. Some of my followers foolishly worship it as an aspect of myself, but it is not of my make. Understand?" she said sharply.

Jasper nodded briskly. "Don't worry about me; I won't be founding any doomsday cults. I mean, seriously, who even does that? Obviously, a sex cult is the superior choice."

"You better not start any cults," she said severely, but the tension in her shoulders eased as her lips twitched with amusement. "But do not fear, you have more than earned this reward. Few indeed escape the mimmûl's grasp."

Satisfied with her response, he took one last glance over the stat sheet, and decided to put off assigning any levels until he looked at his rewards. There were two boxes waiting to be opened - one for passing level 75 in Kasdael's class and the other for helping Lord Diparu, which he clicked on first.

The first option was easily dismissed, and the third was greyed out with an error, leaving only two real choices: a new spell or unlocking a racial trait. Jasper was more than familiar with what a new spell would entail, but he wasn't quite sure what to expect from the other option. "Any suggestions, Kasdael?" he asked, reading his options off.

He was a bit surprised, though, when she immediately told him to pick the spell. "Really? I thought the trait would be better?" Or at least more unique - when's the last time I got offered the choice.

"It's a good choice," she replied, "One I'd advise for many, but I don't think it's the right choice for you."

"Why not?" he frowned.

"Because unlocking a racial trait is quite likely to change your physical appearance. It can be a powerful choice, as it will often offer you new abilities that require no resources to use, but you are already unhappy with the changes you've undergone, are you not?" she asked knowingly.

He glanced down at his arms, with an almost reflexive grimace. The new, darker red they had turned after his race had changed to a Dayyamut Djinn was a decided improvement on the old color, but he still missed his old appearance. Do I really want to risk looking even more freakish just for a little more power? What if I got horns, or a forked tail, or something worse? "I guess you're right," he conceded reluctantly, "though it's a little disappointing to choose the same old reward."

"Better that than something you'll regret."

A new box appeared as he clicked on the second option, and he quickly scanned the results.