AbyssalRoadTrip
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Abyssal Road Trip - 456 - Handle with care
🕑 Added 2025-08-29 01:00:06 +0000 UTCPhaedra’s PoV - Far Chaos
Without the sun to tell her the passage of days, time felt odd as their journey stretched on. Outside, the melody of it was absent, and only when they passed boundaries like their own realm did it shiver across them in a fluxed and frayed fashion. She resorted to the tempo of her dominant theme to determine the length of days, but it helped only while awake. When she slept, the lack of a changing reference point made it impossible to tell how much time had passed.
The limited space inside their haven meant that Nicholaus’s usual projects came to a halt. The only thing he tinkered with during the trip was continuously rebuilding a series of discs with toothed edges. Though Phaedra didn’t know their purpose, Amdirlain recognised them as primitive versions of the gears and cogs that would comprise the Titan’s servants. While the first version spun on its own through three dimensions, later ones rotated through thousands of dimensions, and listening to them kept Phaedra distracted from the pain inside.
Eventually, Phaedra heard their course approach a bubble that contained an odd-sounding mountain range that was larger than their world. Along the millions of tiers and shelves that covered the slopes stood countless standing stones, all made of the strange stone Nicholaus had used to protect them. Their room settled in a hollow between spurs running from the central mountain before the roof and walls peeled open. One of the cliff faces, high up the slope, turned into a glimmering eye that swam with constellations and exploding stars. Above it, the sky was black without a glimmer of stars or sun.
“Who would use me as a resting place?” There was no sign of a mouth, meaning swirled around them, carrying heavy implications of erroneous judgment.
“Nicholaus, son of Kronos, and my daughter Phaedra. We’re travelling to learn more about different realms. We came here seeking one called Maker.” Nicholaus kept his hands out from his sides, though the closest thing he had to a weapon was his hammer that rested by his forge. “Would you be able to direct us to them?”
“I’m called many things, though most refer to me as a variation of that term. However, I don’t share my real name outside a circle of equals and my superiors. I know about your travels. Your miniature realm is so noisy that I have observed you since you left your home realm.”
Nicholaus grimaced in frustration. “I’ll improve it.”
“Why are you here?” The ground beneath their sphere lifted it until it was level with the centre of the eye.
“I need to create a realm.”
“That still doesn’t tell me why you are here. If you are capable, why didn’t you try?”
“I’m told my nature meant you might advise me. The souls within a realm deserve better than merely trying when I have other choices.”
The surrounding pressure lessened, but there was a feeling of suspended reaction—the silence before a vicious storm rolling in from sea. “Do you plan to create a risk-free realm then?”
“Life is never without risk, and hardship helped me grow in strength. Yet there should be rewards to accompany the risks they endure, and I don’t know enough to ensure a proper balance.”
A galaxy of burning stars swirled across Maker’s eyes.
“Your daughter will not aid you?”
“I don’t want to be a God,” Phaedra protested stiffly. “They’re cruel and mean, and even the ones that say they care let my family suffer.”
The eye shifted to lock onto her. “There is no need for you to be a deity to provide help. I will not tell you why you should help; instead, ask yourself if you have no desire or reason to act.”
A memory of the wave she’d failed to stop crashed around her in reaction to Maker’s words, and Phaedra hid behind Nicholaus. Tears burned in her eyes, but she held them back not to distract Patér from this mammoth being.
They died because I didn’t act; it’s my fault. How can I help Patér?
As her stomach churned and roiled, she tasted bile in the back of her throat; she let go of her father’s leg and wrapped her arms around her middle.
Don’t throw up.
“My daughter is mourning our lost family, please leave her be.”
“I will provide you with advice and some locations where you can find recruitable allies for creation if you agree to do two things for me.”
“We’d need to hear the fee first,” Nicholaus replied.
“If your daughter isn’t helping you, she doesn’t need to hear the arrangement.”
Phaedra swallowed hard and realised the pain from her injury had faded at some point, but she’d not tried to sing again. “I’ll help. I don’t know how I can, but I will. They can’t continue to treat people that way, making them suffer, taking everything from so many, and paying no price.”
Her nails dug into her palms as she spoke, and the last words tore a sob from her, tears flowed freely.
Nicholaus hurriedly turned and awkwardly crouched by his daughter. She heard the broken places within him that Mḗtēr’s death had caused and wailed into his chest. “I’m sorry, Patér, I’m so sorry.”
The pain she’d held in while travelling multiplied and seemed to feed on itself, a fuel that carved the grief deep and set an emptiness in its wake.
“Please believe me, little one, you did nothing to cause this. My little songbird, don’t let them claim you as a victim as well,” Nicholaus rumbled, his arms gently enfolding her.
“I hear every beat of the water in that killing wave every time I think of her. I want her back, I want my brothers, and we have nothing of them to hold on to.”
“We have our memories,” Nicholaus said, patting her back gently. “Try to focus on happy memories of singing or laughing together. Wherever she is, she’ll be glad you’re safe.”
“You’ve travelled far, and you’re both justifiably grief-stricken. Rest here for a few weeks, and we’ll talk afterwards.”
The eye disappeared, turning back into a cliff face, and the surrounding air stilled. The ground lowered and set them in a hollow. Throughout the created space, familiar fruit trees sprouted and grew to maturity, until a wide variety of ripe fruit hung from their branches. Bushes sprang up between the trees, cycling through blooming flowers and into berries.
Nicholaus moved to sit with his back against the forge and cradled his daughter.
“I’m sorry for being a distraction,” Phaedra whispered.
“You’re not a distraction. We’ve been constantly travelling, and neither of us has had time to mourn. I’m sure here is the safest place we’ve been since we left home,” Nicholaus reassured her, his hand gently patting her back. “Your grief is necessary and important, Phaedra. If you felt no grief over your Mḗtēr and brothers, then it would show there was something very wrong with you. Shall I tell you the story of when I first met her?”
Despite having heard the tale many a time, Phaedra nodded and settled down to listen with her head against his chest. She fell asleep during the story and woke in the same position, Nicholaus not having shifted in the slightest. Nearby, she heard a trickling stream, the sweet promises of the ripe fruit tickled her nose. Overhead was a silvery skin with a sunny orb that was just a spot of energy drifting across it at the proper rate for home. As they went about their day, Nicholaus pulled apart their transport and sketched out a new design.
The gentle days let some tension release from her body, though the grief remained a raw wound. After keeping her grief from her Patér for weeks, the frequency of her tears and sobs was embarrassing. The turn of days slowly eased a fraction of the pain, yet still Maker didn’t show themselves. Ten days rolled into twenty, and soon forty had passed, the wait allowing the edges of grief to soften.
On yet another morning, Phaedra was plucking plums from a tree when the side of a nearby boulder turned into a gleaming star.
“What previously brought you happiness, Phaedra?”
Caught with a mouthful of ripe fruit, Phaedra almost choked on the juices, but forced herself to finish chewing before she replied. “Music.”
“If your grandfather had never told you about your power, what would you have done?”
“I don’t know. I love music, and nothing else compares to its vibrancy. Everyone else in the village was a farmer or a fisherman, so I don’t know what I would have done.” Phaedra paused. “How did you know what he told me?”
The start of the conversation had caught Nicholaus mid-assembly, and he unhooked pieces he hadn’t finished fastening.
“I checked the surveyor records from your home realm. They track the goings-on of primordials to see how they influence the realm’s progress.”
“Oh. You know how stupid I was then,” Phaedra sighed.
“I know more about the manipulative nature of your grandfather than about your intelligence. You’re a child with thousands of years of growth ahead of you.”
“No, Patér agreed he’d take my divinity from me. He agreed!”
“Your ability has nothing to do with divinity, and you can ensure a long existence all on your own.” The star in the boulder turned into a spiral of lights. “Many things can fuel creation, Phaedra. It may seem strange, but pain and a desire for change can be valuable sources of inspiration for creating something better. It’s important to remember that acting for vengeance creates nothing anyone can use long-term.”
Phaedra stiffened. “I want a place where people can hold their gods accountable.”
“Where does that balance out, little one? Consider this: a group of gods become known on many worlds, and those people think they are good. Then, over time, people in one culture or upon a world change and become mean, much like the gods who hurt you. Should those gods, revered as good by mortals on many worlds, still be at the mercy of mortals from one world who no longer share the same viewpoint?”
“I don’t know,” Phaedra choked out.
Nicholaus strode over and put a hand atop her head. “Speak to my daughter with me, or not at all. As you seem aware that my Patér did the same thing to her, and I’m sure twisted the truth in knots.”
“You could hear everything we’ve said, so I didn’t keep you from the conversation. Both of you are very young, but considering the viewpoints of a myriad of beings is something to think about in your years ahead. Realms need proper planning and a balance of light and dark to endure.”
Phaedra shook her head. “But I want Patér to have a good realm.”
“Absolute goodness is just as bad as absolute evil for souls in a realm.” There was a profound sadness that sang in the stones, the weight of it eclipsed her grief and caught the breath in her throat.
Did they lose someone special to them as well?
Sure that the mountain itself was Maker’s flesh, even though she could not hear within, she moved to the boulder and gently patted the rough side. “I’m sorry. You’re grieving too, aren’t you?”
“My losses are many, but my joys outnumber them. What is important now is for you two to understand something from our last conversation. Do you know what I mean when I say the well-being of souls is the utmost important feature of a realm?”
Phaedra shrugged helplessly.
While Nicholaus frowned. “The pantheon didn’t raise me.”
“Then let’s start with a simple connected concept. Do either of you understand the issue with absolute good?”
“I don’t see how it could be a problem,” Nicholaus admitted, and Phaedra looked at him in surprise. “It would have to be better than mortals being the playthings of gods.”
But Patér knows everything about making things.
“That is a separate issue. With only absolute good allowed in a realm, there are two problems. First, there is no choice because the route for it is very narrow, and second, it leaves no room for souls to grow stronger. At some point, souls start to stagnate and rot, and the entity directing them becomes sure that everything they order must be good. After all, their orders and convictions face no challenges, only obedience; eventually, the realm fails, dooming all.”
“But I can choose to share a treat with someone or not,” Phaedra protested. “Isn’t that good?”
“You’ve a child’s innocence. What if absolute goodness required you to pass it over to someone whom you hadn’t seen that day? How would you know? Thus, a greater being would need to impose strict control.”
Phaedra hummed sadly and retreated behind Nicholaus. “I can hear if someone is cold.”
“Not all beings share your ability. When it comes down to it, experiencing mistakes and having regrets promotes the strongest and most lasting growth.”
“Souls are enormous, so much so that I don’t understand how they fit inside people. How can something like that grow stronger?”
“To understand, I suggest you listen to them rather than take my word. I can direct you to realms where you can experience it for yourself, or you can listen to recordings from my observation stations.” Stones shifted along the tiers, and a ledge carrying a dozen of them lowered down near the outer plum trees. “Or you may do both.”
Phaedra peeked out from around her Patér. Tears blurred her vision, but she could take in the surrounding melodies. “How are you sure I can hear them?”
“As one who has made much, I can understand your ability. The first part is perception: energy comprises all things and you hear the pitch and amplitude of that energy. The second part is creation: you can create materials and events by unleashing the correct music targeted to a location. If you exercise that ability, you’ll be able to do many things.”
“That’s what you meant about helping Patér?”
“In part. The other element is that your Patér and your views of life differ. He builds what he can perceive now; you look for songs that have yet to be, creating music from nothing. Point the way for him so that he can see distant goals.”
“I’ll try.”
“Pick a stone, and I will unseal it to let you hear its contents.”
“How do you know I’ll hear what you intend?”
“I’m an expert at making things, and these I adjusted to align with your ability. Listen and then tell me what sort of life the souls recorded in each lived, and which is stronger for it. Consider the surface feel without delving into the details.”
“The skin of the plum,” Phaedra waggled her half-eaten breakfast.
“Yes.”
Phaedra spent the day examining the records of souls. In each, she found the same thing—the determined strength of those scarred by hardship exceeded the languid energy possessed by those who’d experienced a trouble-free existence.
When she finished surveying the last, she stared at the still-turning spiral shining from the boulder. “Why do you create realms?”
“To study how others grew and from those lessons learn how I might grow, and improve my crafting.”
“Is that the only use realms have: teaching infinitely strong beings how to grow stronger?”
“That is my reason for creating realms. The common purpose of all realms is to bring order to the Far Chaos, and express its potential in a sane fashion. The mechanisms and secondary goals that are used to move towards that primary one are in the hands of a realm’s creator.”
Nicholaus waved towards the silvery sky. “How does the creation of souls order that energy?”
Images appeared of souls lifting free from shadowy bodies, shedding energy as they crossed the planes and through planar boundaries. In some pictures, the souls went to eternal resting places, while in others they were reborn. While they went on to their afterlife, the energy shed flowed in a different direction. Its trip followed multiple stages, being transformed in the process so that when it reached the realm’s outer skin, the energy reinforced it. The images shifted, revealing that energy drawn from the Far Chaos became the core of new souls.
“A Soul is infinite in scope and possibility for choices in life. It might even be why souls that are given the widest of choices grow the strongest. Souls moving through life provide the energy for a realm’s borders to strengthen and grow, and souls themselves are refined from the material of Far Chaos. The more souls a realm contains, the more material it has ordered.”
“You still haven’t addressed your fee for this help,” Nicholaus noted.
“I want you to rescue a few individuals from the prisons that hold them, and reuse the resources from within a failed realm when you make your own.”
Hearing his pain spike at the mention of prisons, Phaedra leaned tighter against Nicholaus’s leg, and he patted her shoulder reassuringly.
“Why were they imprisoned?” Nicholaus asked softly.
“Conflicts within pantheons and, for some, disputes with their creators.”
Nicholaus sighed. “What should we do with them after we rescue them?”
“I’d have you give them a place in your realm.”
“I don’t want to involve many others. There are rules of accountability that are needed, and I don’t want others interfering.”
“You’ve decided your rules already?”
“Bahamut gave me some general advice and told me about the complexity of negotiations when too many are involved. I don’t want our say in the realm's rules diminished.”
“You’d be foolish to provide all supporting roles an equal voice. As a principal, there should be a balance between what someone provides and the rights you grant them. If someone can’t contribute to the creation of a realm, then don’t let them set rules. You tell them the rules and what goals they need to fulfil and leave them to it.”
Nicholaus stiffened at the advice. “Why tell us that? Bahamut warned me that others would extract a price for help.”
“You have the potential to make many realms. It is in my interest to ensure lesser primordials and deities do not hobble you.”
Patér is strong enough to create a realm!
Phaedra looked up at Nicholaus. “We came here for advice, and Maker’s price sounds reasonable. Did we make the trip for nothing?”
Nicholaus frowned. “How many would you expect us to rescue?”
“At least three, but I’ll give you a list you can investigate. Choose whomever you feel is the most acceptable, or return for another list.”
“If we can choose who we help and who we leave imprisoned, we agree.”
“Very well. Let me start by teaching you how to identify abandoned realms.”
As the lesson pressed hard at the limits of her current intelligence, Amdirlain released the memory flow with a jolt and focused on supporting the songs with Gilorn.
Sarah rested a hand reassuringly on her shoulder. “Are you okay? You had barely gone distant in the mental link, and then you jerked.”
“Yeah, just Phaedra got a bit of a mind dump from the Maker fellow, and it was overwhelming even with Lethe restricting it.”
“Maker, Mr Eye in the ceiling, dragged you around for nearly two decades, that fellow?”
“Yes, I’m less concerned about whatever deal we struck now. Though only he knows what strength is required to fulfil it.”
Did I avoid Verdandi’s funeral to avoid a fuss or because I wanted to avoid any grieving? I grieved Torm for so many years, and I think now it echoed those earlier wounds; I felt so hollow, like Phaedra’s experience of loss. I can now see how unhealthy the relationship would have become, given his tendency to obey the most powerful of his ‘pack’. If I can’t be around mortals, I’m going to lose touch with myself.
“I’ll get these worlds created, and then, do you want to travel? I need to see how my priests are managing on the worlds with the Lady of the Forest.”
“That would depend on the world. I thought you wanted your old memories back first?”
“It feels like I need to hear some souls here to help ground that first memory.”
Sarah nodded understandingly. “And it’s better to hear the souls of the living than the dead. Plus, you can combine tasks, since you should see more of your worlds, aside from Qil Tris.”
♫ ♫ ♫ ♫ ♫ ♫
Maker’s PoV - Far Chaos
The Phoenix was a symbol of life and rebirth within many realms, yet Maker’s original purpose for it was to test an expansion theory of Soul energy. The symbolism had come much later, and they’d had no part in it. Other beings had assigned the meaning to the Phoenix and taken it with them when they grew strong enough to leave their nest and create realms of their own.
Despite the odds against it, the living flame stayed in the Phoenix form as it solidified into something greater and absorbed more potential from its surroundings. Residue within the new Primordial’s core identified both its realm of origin and who had set it loose. Surprise was an uncommon emotion for Maker, and satisfaction even rarer. Pleased with what they’d witnessed, they moved the new entity within a realm they’d just finished making. There, it would have time to grow unharried by the denizens of the energy mire that had gestated it. With that pleasing task performed, an examination of its trail led to a nearby realm, home to their recent guest. They found the boundary worryingly pitted from many Eldritch incursions and two wounds that came from within. While one matched a request they’d made to the founders, the second spoke of a risky approach to intake initial energy with lingering consequences. The latter was their problem to resolve, but the former Maker felt some responsibility for not providing them with a better education.
They tied off the conduit between the realms and considered the residues of the last battles between its natives and the Eldritch entities within. Fragments of the rigid rules that once existed were now shards scouring the remains of shattered planes. The stark failure of those they’d trained soured Maker’s mood. With a thought, they cut the conduit on the old realm’s side. No longer parasitically drawing on its replacement, its boundary imploded. The former conduit they merged back into the boundary’s skin, ensuring no chance of influx. With the pruning complete, they reported on the progress of Phaedra’s reincarnation before returning to their purpose for their trip.
They mentally nudged the Titan and, with his surprised permission, started creating observation platforms on the many populated worlds within this realm. As they did so, they read through the supplementary data that their one platform here hadn’t transmitted, and looked back through the realm’s history.
While they made some errors in judgment, for a first-time effort, they certainly did well. I should check if she’s ready for the first part of her payment yet.
Comments
Glenn Wright
A different creator abandoned Bálnerith's old realm; Maker simply didn't want the resources and souls within it to go to waste.
James Skinner
Thanks for the chapter!
Luboš Hemala
Say, the old realm of Bálnerith, did the Maker abandon it or was it one of those he gave to Phaedra to save from?
