Chapter 42: Dark Designs

Chapter 42: Dark Designs

Was there a limit to the universes vastness?

The purpose of science and magic was to push back the boundaries of human understanding of the cosmos ever farther. But the more Valdemar learned, the bigger the universe appeared. Each new piece of information showcased how little mankind mattered in the great cosmic dance.

And as he glanced at the map before his eyes, Valdemar felt incredibly small.

The Bloods magic derived from Ialdabaoth, true but the almighty Stranger was only a node in the vast web of life. There were countless of its kind across the planes, connected through the bonds of kinship and lineage.

There is a war in heaven.

This map represented one of the sides. The side of aberrant life; the side of the Blood.

An army of Strangers made of countless smaller lifeforms that had broken off from the whole. Each shaped like a sphere

The black sun grew to encompass the universe itself, the shadow of eyes, mouths, and tentacles wriggling beneath its surface.

Could it be Valdemar whispered as he remembered his visit to the Silent Kings alien realm and the brief glimpse of the abomination lurking inside its blackened sun. If it can happen with a star, then

What about a planet?New novel chapters are published on

Lady Mathilde had theorized that the eyes of Ialdabaoth were the signs of a parasite spreading through the tunnels of the world. Considering what Valdemar had learned so far, he was tempted to consider a more worrying hypothesis.

Ialdabaoth was the world. Not just the people living on it, but the entire planet.

Could the world's heart be made of flesh rather than magma, as geologists believed? What if the crust of the planet, those depths and surface of rocks and stones, were nothing more than a shell? The remnants of cosmic dust and meteors slowly accumulating across the eons?

And if this theory was true, then was Earth a slumbering Stranger too? Was it an egg that would one day hatch and unleash a cataclysmic abomination unto the cosmos?

No, I cant think like this, Valdemar thought as he focused on the memory. Even if thats true, Ialdabaoths freedom is not inevitable. It wouldnt need outside help if it was.

At least this explained how the Blood could contact other worlds and planes. The web of flesh transcended Ialdabaoth and had spread its tendrils across the planes. All universes blessed with life were connected by these sentient worlds, bound tightly through a double-chain of polynucleotides.

And as he observed the map while trying to make sense of it, Valdemar noticed a troubling fact: Ialdabaoth occupied a central place in the web and was linked to many other living worlds. This placement could simply be the result of the Pleromians using their worlds Stranger as the baseline of their map for practical purposes, but somehow Valdemar doubted he would be so lucky.

Now, Ialdabaoth was sealed long ago and is now trying to break its bindings, the summoner thought as he assembled pieces of the puzzle. If we assume that these wards are somehow connected

Then Ialdabaoths freedom would start a chain reaction through the web. Its freedom would unleash dozens of its kindred, the ripples spreading through a hundred more across the planes. The Strangers would wake up to claim the multiverse as their own.

They would win the war, whatever it meant.

You are the me from the other side, the Nightwalker had said.

But what was this other side?

Death is the universes natural state.

Though the map was detailed, Valdemar couldnt help but notice the vast empty space separating each living world from the other. The Lilith had made a valid point, the universe was filled with death. Life was preciously rare, far too much for Valdemars taste.

Something out there was doing its best to scour the cosmos of its inhabitants. And if the Whitemoon was Ialdabaoths counterpart as much as Valdemar and the Nightwalker mirrored each other, then the rogue planetoid that cast mankind underground was only an agent of a greater power.

Show me what you were running away from, Valdemar whispered as he compelled the memories to answer his questions. Show me what you feared so much. Were you worried that Ialdabaoth would wake up? What is the Whitemoon?

The memories around him blurred. The walls turned to flesh and humanoid figures started writhing everywhere Valdemar looked. The dirty smell of sex filled his nostrils, while the summoner tasted something salty in the air. Even the Black Pillar took on a phallic shape

The memories were riddled with holes and the Pleromian had filled them with disgusting sexual imagery.

Curse you, you ecstasy junkie! Valdemar whispered in condemnation. All this priceless, cosmic knowledge, and you filled your brain with pointless pleasures instead?

Words couldnt properly convey Valdemars sheer disappointment. The Pleromians had achieved so many wonders and they threw them all away.

No matter. Even if the Pleromians memory was faulty, the Black Pillar still held the full wealth of his kinds knowledge about the Strangers. Valdemar only had to return to the Institute and decode it.

He couldnt say the same for the portals.

Show me how you can open tears between worlds, Valdemar ordered. Tell me how to reach Earth.

This time, the Pleromians soul answered his command.

The memories of orgies and sexual imagery collapsed into nothingness. A new vision rose from the depths of the harvested soul, showing a familiar underground dome and an archway of black stone. Metal cables held the doorway in place, as they would centuries later.

The Institutes Pleromian portal had changed little across the eons with one small exception.

Empress Aratra, if Lord Ochs tale was to be believed, had betrayed her own mentor and established a tyrannical regime underground for centuries. Valdemar had hoped that the Empire would reform upon finding new worlds full of resources and sunlight, but now he doubted.

Lord Bethor only believed in strength and violence. To him, sufficient might could solve any problem. He was a necessary evil when mankind faced threats like the Strangers and Otto Blutgang, but against a peaceful civilization? He would shatter any resistance thrown his way with fire, subjugate the weak, and seize all the resources he could. A necessary evil was still an evil.

As for Lord Och himself, Valdemar refused to let the Liliths words poison his mind. And yet

And yet he could tell something didnt add up in this scenario.

Valdemar simply couldnt imagine Lord Och letting his apprentice learn such an important secret without having discovered it himself first. The lich was too cunning, too hungry for knowledge, too careful. He had already butted heads with Valdemar about their respective visions of the world.

Had Lord Och already extracted the information from the Pleromians mind before surrendering it? Or maybe he couldnt reach the depths of its memories because of how the creatures mind worked, and he had sent his apprentice to sully his hands by eating the soul?

Valdemars mind flared with paranoia as he examined the portals memory. He was certain souls were the fuel keeping it open, and yet he hadnt sensed any within the device when he visited the real one. Had the long centuries degraded them, much like how only the echoes of pain and degradation remained in the Pleromians vaults beneath the Institute?

In that case, it explained why the portal wouldnt work in the present day. It was functional, but it had exhausted its fuel. And the way to recharge it

A doubt seized Valdemars mind, and he immediately reviewed the memory of the portal creation. The procession of sacrifices rose from the dead to repeat their execution once again; and Valdemar couldnt help but feel a sense of dj vu in more ways than one.

The dokkar male walked first to his death, his arrogant, aristocratic way of talking echoing Friggas smug confidence.

The human followed, bloated and complacent like the Empires masses. A troglodyte carried on with the same grim resignation as Hermann, whenever he and Valdemar spoke about their kinds inability to coexist.

The many-legged bug that walked after them was no Master Loctis, but maybe the living swarm could serve as a substitute?

And the doppelganger Iren was half of one

That undead bastard Valdemar whispered in outrage.

What were the odds that a member of almost all of the species sacrificed to open the portal had been gathered in the Institute? Fed promises of medical treatment, of a better world, or political advantages? Even Frigga had signed a magical contract of some kind to study at the Institute, and the lich could have easily hidden a sacrificial clause inside.

What a heartless dick! Valdemar clenched his fists in rage. He knew.

Why would I sacrifice you, when I know we shall eventually succeed with another method that wont cost you your life?

The lich had never said it wouldnt cost that of someone else.

No, wait he doesnt have the Pleromian. Ive eaten the soul. But Lord Och had tried to clone them in the past. He had shown Valdemar the lab. He didnt need a Pleromian with powers and knowledge, only someone willing to sacrifice themselves as part of the ritual.

The lich was immortal. For all Valdemar knew, he could have raised a Pleromian clone in secret and indoctrinated it to serve as fuel for the portal. Lord Ochs apprentice didnt even know where his master kept his true workshop.

Even the Derro could easily be arranged. The Empire had many prisoners of war in its cells, one would perhaps accept the sacrifice as part of an exchange. Or perhaps that was why Lord Och had insisted on following his apprentice? To negotiate sharing blood banks with Otto Blutgang?

Maybe Im just being paranoid, Valdemar muttered as he tried to calm himself. How could he have known? He would have needed a living Pleromian to interrogate, or to find instructions. The ruins beneath the Institute didnt have any as far as I know.

But

But Lord Och did access another source of Pleromian knowledge in the past.

I know of at least another gate like this one in Ariouth, though I havent been able to examine it since my previous apprentice and I had a Lord Ochs voice turned cold as ice. A disagreement.

The other portal in Ariouth. The one under Lord Phalegs control.

The lich had always been evasive about the cause of his feud with his former apprentice, blaming it on ungratefulness. But knowing Lord Ochs deceitful nature, Valdemar wondered if it had something to do with the second portal. Perhaps the two Dark Lords had found a trove of knowledge and couldnt share, or disagreed about how to use the device. The Institutes vault didnt have any guide to work the portal, but the Pleromians could have left hints in Ariouth.

I knew he was a snake, the summoner thought, and I still let him bite me.

Why all this plotting? To get the command word? Or was the lich trying to manipulate Valdemar into agreeing with this terrible plan, wearing down his reluctance one revelation at a time? Or maybe Lord Och didnt know about the portals requirements, but had come to suspect them through trial and error.

Whatever the case, Valdemar couldnt ignore the signs. Even if Lord Och didnt know how to activate the portals, he had the means to do so at hand. The lich had kept his apprentice alive because of his unique nature, but Valdemar didnt doubt for a second that he would hesitate to sacrifice less precious assets.

The moment the summoner returned to the living world, Lord Och would scan the command words from Valdemars mind.

But the summoner couldnt forget them either. What were the odds that they could capture another Pleromian that knew them? They would need to collaborate with Otto and all the ghastly prices that he would demand.

Valdemar had to register the command words somewhere the lich wouldnt find them, erase them from his mind, and somehow find a way to recover them later with Lord Och none the wiser.

A highly difficult, impossible task.

No, Valdemar muttered, his heart full of determination. Impossible is but a word.

He had an idea.