Fae Chronicles 9

As usual, what I intended to write and what I actually wrote has diverged a bit, but it's in a reasonable state. Hopefully I'll be able to write the Summon Perfect Warlady chapter in time for Monday. 

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    Being X appeared, on the surface, to be as he was in their original conversation: an old man in a robe, unpigmented white hair voluminous enough to guarantee the lack of having seen a pair of scissors for over a year, but at least set to minimalist hygiene standards: that hairstyle and beard had seen a brush and soap recently. 

    But to Tanya’s new magical senses, he appeared somewhat less… humble. Innumerable wings and eyes made up his non-glamored form, a shining golden light that Tanya now understood their treasure was a fragment from. Despite this oppressive feeling of power, Tanya firmed up their resolve and spoke lightly: “I was wondering when you’d show up.” 

    “Cut the pretense.” Being X commanded, “Return what is mine.”

    Really? “Well, assuming I do know what you’re talking about, the asset to which I believe you are referring to is mine, fairly purchased.” Much like when speaking with the Lady of Owls, a single weakness in wording can and will be exploited. “Signed, witnessed, and registered with the proper authorities.”

    Being X scowled, his inner light flaring with fire that stank of sulfur. The sound of a pipe organ paired with his frustrated exhalation. “You cannot believe that such a bargain was legitimate. Base trickery, scamming one too young to understand.”

    Tanya arched one eyebrow incredulously. “Trying to appeal to my humanity, are you?” They asked, “Bold move, for the one who took it away.”

    “You did that on your own.” Being X retorted, every single one of his eyes focusing onto them. “Now what do I find you with but one of my blessings, stolen from its rightful place.”

    “Acquired from a fair transaction.” Tanya corrected, “It was as  fair as could be; Mary prayed for the power to rescue and protect her father, and when it came time to give that power up in return for that very thing, her father right in front of her, safe and sound…” Tanya traced a heart shape with their fingers. “She gave it up without hesitation, happy and free. Roll credits.”

    “Ripping away her purpose, to lead and inspire the faithful.” Being X finished, snarling with his human face and spinning up a wheel of fire with his real one. It was kind of interesting, seeing two emotional reactions in sync like that. 

    Tanya chuckled. “So, let me get this straight: A girl begged for a desired end, and one of us offered her power enough to not only accomplish this, but so much more, with a secret plot to further that person’s designs on the world.” Tanya flicked their hair ornament, adjusting the style to be a hair tie for a high ponytail that now trailed back down their back. “The other one of us instead offered her exactly what she wanted, no strings attached, for the modest for something that, with the bargain concluded, she no longer needed.” Tanya spread their hands, presenting the scenario. “Tell me, from an outside perspective, if you’re even capable of contemplating such, which of these roles makes the one inhabiting it sound better?”

    The wheel of fire’s spin accelerated, turning into a ring of incandescent light, a halo of power that Tanya suspected was his equivalent to seethingly clenching his fist, although his false face instead put on a placid expression, as a pair of wings withdrew from the glamor, instead leaving behind strings. Remote control, making the false face a puppet they directed at an emotional remove? Interesting. “You sound like you’ve made yourself right at home among the devils, sharpening your tongue and learning the arts of twisting words.” The puppet smirked, “Not exactly your strong suit, the last time we met.”

    If he wanted to provoke them, he should have chosen a different line of attack. “I will admit to a certain level of mortal weakness, back then.” Tanya said, admitting fault while simultaneously denying the continued existence of that fault. “I suppose we could revisit that conversation, while you’re bringing it up.” Lesson seven from the Lady of Owls: never call a fae out on their past deeds. They can quickly become present deeds, and if you didn’t like it then, you’ll like it less now. “I believe the subject up for debate at the time, disregarding the trivialities, was the matter of faith: Why was it lacking in the modern world, and how to increase production. Would you dispute that as a fair summary?”

    The puppet growled, and the halo of light’s spin started to whine as the sound of the energy’s pulsations rose into the audible range. “It was your lack of faith that was being discussed.” He insisted, putting emphasis on the correction. 

    “I very distinctly recall you speaking in more generalities than would be warranted for such a narrow topic.” Tanya replied easily, “The conversation may have started that way, but it did move on to a broader application of the topic.”

    The whining noise had progressed to the point where it was too high-pitched to be in the audible range, going faster and faster. Idly, Tanya focused on one of their wing-eyes and checked what was directly behind them. Just the sea, nothing important. “There’s no point in continuing, not after you ruined the test. Thrice over, even.”

    “I disagree.” Tanya said insistently. “In fact, I’ve had plenty of time to contemplate the words I used back then, and how utterly inadequate they were at presenting my opinion then, much less reflecting my current understanding of the topic.” Tanya chuckled; “I was hardly at my cognitive best at the time. Death in the family, you understand.”

    “It was your death!” Being X spat, the wings that directed the puppet going back inside. Interesting… Does he think they can’t see that? 

    “Who was the one in my family I was closest with.” Tanya said, beginning to enjoy themselves with this verbal duel. “Yes, it’s a bit gauche to proclaim a preference, but between you and me, I spent way more time with him than I did with my parents.”

     “Enough.” Being X proclaimed, the ring of light condensing and launching towards Tanya as a beam of light, filtering through the eyes of the puppet to emulate laser eyes. They weren’t there to be hit by it, mind you, as they used Being X’s blessing to dodge it with a twist in space. 

    The beam of light reflected off of the time-stopped water like a mirror and shot out into the distance, curving upwards towards the sun and effectively vanishing from sight. “...Would that have even done damage?” Tanya asked rhetorically. “Or would it have just hurt?” Tanya tutted at the entity. “Nevertheless, point to me. Can I proceed to the thrust of my statement? Or do I need to wait out your tantrum?”

    If Tanya only had the puppet’s actions to go off of, they wouldn’t have stood a chance of avoiding the barrage of light beams, lightning bolts, and fireballs. But they could see Being X’s true form, and him keeping the puppet going despite this told Tanya two things: One, that he didn’t know that they could see it. This naturally led to the second, which was that Being X could no longer read their every thought. 

    That said, the difficulty of dodging was still quite high; while they had frequently had to dodge rains of fake attacks during those horrible parties, as King Oberon’s permissive attitude towards abusing them wouldn’t extend far enough to use something that could actually do damage, Being X’s barrage was on another level. It was just that they could make use of a variety of defensive measures using Being X’s blessing, which more than made up for the increased level of aggression. 

    After Tanya had lost count of the number of potential deaths they had dodged, Being X’s assault slowed to a stop. The central shining light that all of his wings and other manifestations sprung from was notably less luminescent than it was before. “How?” He asked. 

    “Years of bullet hell games.” Tanya said, not lying but conveying their point in the most infuriating manner that they could think of. “You know, because video games translate perfectly into reality. It was your entire argument for calling me a murderer, so why wouldn’t it apply here?” That was just twisting the knife. 

    “Insolent wretch.” Being X said through the puppet’s gritted teeth. “Mental sin is still sin. That has nothing to do with this.”

    “Which lets us circle back to the topic of faith.” Tanya said, smoothly leading the conversation. “Let me begin by confirming some foundation: You, personally, created humanity? As in, you designed our natural impulses and state, while also granting free will? Completely, start to finish? I may not be a biblical scholar, but what little I have heard from your clergy is adamant on that point.”

    Being X very much did not look like he wanted to answer that question. After a silence that stretched on unnaturally, the utter stillness of everything else only accentuating the awkward silence, the puppet nodded. “Yes. I am the creator, and all in nature is by My Design.”

    “Good.” Tanya said. This would have gotten quite complicated otherwise. “Now, in order to properly explain why faith is lacking in the modern world, by my estimation, we must ponder the converse: why are some people still faithful?”

    “It is because they have seen the truth of Creation.” Being X asserted. 

    “Humans are not born with some innate knowledge of some higher power.” Tanya asserted, “As an example, they do not know the Ten Commandments, as you claimed responsibility for. They must be taught these things by someone else. This requirement means that faith is, when it comes to survival and spread, no different than any other technology or cultural artifact.” Tanya said, summarizing their core point. 

    Being X actually looked like he was going to retort, but for some reason he just… didn’t. The light in his central core dimmed at the attempt, which caused a glimmer of triumph to swell up in Tanya’s chest. 

    “As a technology, what is faith’s use case? Primarily, it’s a unifying social order. An excuse to declare people who are otherwise strangers as within your in-group, because you can be confident that they share the same ethical framework that you subscribe to and can assume reciprocity from them.” Tanya elaborated, “But there are other ways to achieve this. Nationalism, government, public education. With the rise of these things, religion becomes less useful. Not useless, but less useful. That is what I meant when I attributed the loss of faith to being in an advanced society. We did not need a divine overseer to impose a unified ethical code.”

    “Laughable.” Being X said, renewed energy. “Need I remind you of-”

    Tanya cut him off. “The Crusades were fought among people who still all, nominally, worshiped you, personally. You’re not going to win any points talking about Imperial Japan, which I assume you were going to bring up.” The verbal riposte died in Being X’s puppet’s throat, and his light dimmed even more. Huh, was losing the argument actually impacting him? “While we’re on the subject of Japan, I must point out something that impacted the rise of reason: The fact that multiple religions popped up meant that any you created were discredited by the ones that weren’t.”

    “The religion doesn’t matter.” Being X said, smiling at being able to make a point that they couldn’t predict and wave off, “Only that faith be had in the divine.” To prove his point, his puppet shifted into multiple religious icons. Vishnu, Bhudda, Thor, a coyote for some reason, even Amateratsu, before turning back to the same face he used in their first meeting. 

    “...Huh.” When he complained about the ten commandments, they assumed… “Well, the point still stands, even if there wasn’t a ‘correct’ religion, the fact that the only thing distinguishing old religions from things people made up now, like the infamous Scientology, is the age of those beliefs, that means that the vast majority of your believers don’t have any basis for that belief, it’s just what was explained to them by their parents and community leaders, and the occasional media,” Back in the day, their college roommate was a big fan of this vastly popular western animation known as The Simpsons. Several episodes, early ones to Tanya’s understanding, were downright confusing at the time, only later realizing that it was just Christian beliefs that were deeply baked into American culture. “-which is admittedly a very sturdy foundation for belief. That is why that less useful technology can retain longevity, no different than the idea of dinosaurs as having scales instead of feathers.”

    “Watch your tongue.” Being X admonished, “Faith is not a mere technology, it is the foundation of enlightenment.”

    “The core point here is that from a mortal perspective, as I told you before, there is no evidence that the specifics of what religions preach are anything but the invention of a storyteller, invented to teach morality in a heavy-handed way.” Tanya spat in disgust. “Like any fans of a long-running story, the canon becomes built up by new writers each generation, some changes fading away and others finding enough of an audience to be as solid as those foundations. If there was any grain of truth, it becomes obscured by the piles and piles of clear falsehoods.”

    “So you would demand that I exert myself to pander to mortal whims?” Being X proposed, erecting his own strawman. “Bow to the selfish prayers of mortals who refuse enlightenment in favor of greedy self-interest?”

    “Of course not.” Tanya replied, “But being completely uninvolved and then being surprised when it all spins out of control in directions you did not wish it to isn’t the right answer, either. Any programmer, engineer, or even parent can tell you that both neglect and over monitoring is just going to lead to disaster.”

    Being X actually laughed, as if he had Tanya exactly where he wanted them. “How naive!” He shouted, “That window of doubt is essential to create the most enduring faith!” His wings flexed, innumerable eyes flashing as the puppet regained his arrogant mein. “Give them proof of a divine existence and in less than a century they utterly ignore it!” He laughed ruefully. “Mortals make no sense at all!”

    Tanya stared at Being X. “...So what you’re saying is, actually interacting with mortals just leads to them not having any faith in you at all?”

    “Exactly.” Being X declared, “You’re new to being a magical being, but trust in your senpai’s experience.” Really? He went there? 

    “That makes perfect sense.” Tanya refuted. Being X recoiled as if struck. “I have literally only had two conversations with you, and from knowing you for just that long, I’ve already lost even the level of faith in your abilities and good intentions that I would give to a literal toddler.” Being X’s puppet gaped at them. “I would automatically assume that anything you do would be done with the express purpose of causing me misery, and even if it is entirely within your best interests to do something, I would also assume that it would require a level of supervision so extensive that assigning you any work at all would be a waste of payroll.”

    The divinity’s center light dimmed notably, every rhetorical hit seeming to damage him physically as well as emotionally. “You…” He choked out. They had heard of this in Castle Oberon, of how duels of words could inflict actual damage to… djinni. 

    …Oh. Israel was under the domain of the Caliphate, wasn’t it? Dijinni, whose fantastical powers seemed unlimited… While Being X wasn’t necessarily a Djinni, he could theoretically be another, possibly unique type of magical being. “...I believe I do have something to apologize to you for.” Tanya said, words that affected X as a balm. Tanya smirked. “I’ve never introduced myself to you. Not in this meeting nor the last. I apologize for this dreadful breach of etiquette. I am Duchess Titania Argent of House Argent, Blessed with the Favor of God, Sovereign of the Twilight Crossroads, the Lady of Currency.” This might have been the very first time that she had ever introduced herself by her new name, actually. All the fae she interacted with, who could be given the name ‘Titania’ safely, already knew her name. It felt… weighty. Final. “You are?” She asked politely with a smile so sweet, the innocence of her question could not be denied. 

    As before, Being X seemed even more bound by societal convention than she was. His puppet scowled, but he bowed politely nonetheless. “I am Elohim Adonai, God of All That Is, Master of the Heavenly Host, Lord Ruler of the Heavens Above, King of Kings.”

    Elohim, huh? She always wondered just how high Arcadia extended, and what happened if you went up and kept going. Guess that answers that. “Right. Now that the minimum levels of courtesy have been observed…” Tanya drawled, “As I thought from the start, your systems are poorly constructed, your ills are self-inflicted, and the only reason anyone would ever respect you at all is by not having any idea what you’re actually like. I refuse to relinquish my property, and unless there is another matter you wish to address, or perhaps some kind of trade offer you intend to extend, our business is concluded.” Tanya channeled the power of the man before her, and tasked it with little understanding of what she was doing. It worked, though. Arcadia now moved with the normal flow of time, as her fragment proved up to the task of undoing his works. 

    Elohim’s puppet vanished with the timestop, oddly enough. His true form was all that was there. Interesting. Her total lack of shock seemed to finally let Elohim register that she could see it the whole time, though. “You are a thief and devil.” Elohim said spitefully. The air trembled, and the biblically accurate entity turned into a beam of light that shot upwards. The air stopped trembling. 

    …That was probably King Oberon noticing the bastard. It would make sense. Still, with the realization that her hated foe was now… in retreat, she had one question to contemplate. 

    …Did she just win? 

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    House Argent is on the rise. The landmass of the Twilight crossroads had multiplied over a thousandfold, going from around ten acres to three hundred square miles. What’s more, she now had an army… which was an expensive luxury that she doesn’t get to do much with, but she still had them! The extra landmass paid for their upkeep and a little extra. 

    Furthermore, her halting of the Francois’ perfidy meant that the Empire was able to retake Arenne without much issue, freeing Visha from her prisoner of war status without her needing to force her servant to desert. Every POW that was saved got a month of leave, with the expectation that the blistering advances allowed by the Type 95 would mean that they were done with the war. 

    So… “I do like being taller than you…” Visha admitted. They were workshopping Tanya’s new adult body. They did this by manipulating a mannequin-like glamor construct in her living room, with Visha garbed in a glamor-woven dress that Tanya had gifted her for usage in Arcadia. 

    “Hm. Well, you’re reasonably tall, so maybe…” Tanya adjusted the size of the mannequin. Currently, her height is about four feet. There was quite a bit of room for growth while still being shorter than her favorite servant. 

    Visha walked up to the mannequin and gave it a hug. The facsimile of Tanya’s new form hugged back, and… hm. Tanya tugged and pushed at the mannequin with her fingers, still several steps away, but through a trick of perspective, the changes applied anyway as if the fake was a tiny figure in her hands. 

    It was, admittedly, a little weird to fine tune her body on the basis of what melded best with Visha… but she found that she didn’t care much. She knew that if she didn’t have something to guide her in creating an appealing woman’s body, she’d probably make herself look like a seven foot tall anime character with maximum moe, breasts the size of her own head and hips that could knock a man on his ass on accident. 

    Not that there was anything wrong with being tall and statuesque… but there are practical concerns with such a thing, most notably the actual cost of refining her body does go up the bigger she goes, even if the size facet of the transformation composed only half of the cost. Even then, once that obviously bad idea is dropped, she’d probably just copy Visha or Elya’s body types, which was an easy way to open yourself up to mockery in the social scene in Arcadia. The artistic skill to create a beautiful form more or less ex nihilo was valued, implications of plagiarism were bad. 

    So, she must improvise: Just tall enough for Visha’s chin to rest on her head, shoulders just narrow enough to allow an easy grip of Visha’s torso… Things of that nature. The rough bodyplan was what Tanya considered reasonably modest: she was by no means scrawny in any way, but it was to the point where, if she were an anime character, she would not be considered to be exceptional in any way. By mortal standards, of course, this meant she was exceptionally cute, but that seemed to be in the best window of attractiveness to interact with mortals. 

    “How about this?” Tanya asked Visha, inviting critique. 

    “It’s perfect.” Visha proclaimed, “Beautiful and mature, but not a single bit less cute than your child form!”

    “How’s the hair?” Tanya asked, “I think it could use some tweaking.”

    Visha closely inspected how the hair fell on the mannequin’s face.  “Maybe a little longer in the bangs?” She tugged at the hair slightly, and the glamor responded to her suggestion, growing about half a centimeter. “...it would probably look slightly better if those side locks are either gone… or a lot longer.” 

    “Hm. Ojou-sama hair drills…” Tanya waved her hand and copied over the design. “Like this?”

    “...Not with that suit, I think.” Visha said, “It would fit better with a ballroom dress, I think.”

    “Good point.” Tanya said, copying the mannequin and changing it out for her most elaborate dress, while the one still wearing her gilded suit removed all the hair in front of the ears. In a fit of inspiration, she added a set of light glasses to the more masculinely dressed one. “How about now? 

    “Oh, it looks so good!” Visha gushed, “If only you could do both…”

    “Well, I only need to pick one for permanent change. If I wanted to temporarily change, that’s a lot easier.” Also, theoretically she could change just the hair without any notable expense at all. 

    “Oh, right.” Visha said, giving both mannequins another hug. “...I like the hair drills. They’re cuter. Works better with the height, too.”

    It took another four hours, five total, to fully decide on her new body, down to the tiniest, most embarrassing detail, but once it was settled… Power. 

    One thing that none of the other fae ever bothered explaining about why fae usually preferred to assume a superior form, besides the obvious social norm reasons, was that a form you sculpted and optimized for maximum benefit felt powerful. The difference was as the distance between heaven and earth, to borrow a turn of phrase from a bad light novel she once perused. 

    Sure, she passively used up more glamor just to sustain her existence, but that was easily counterbalanced by her income at this point. Tanya punched forwards, the motion creating a crack of air as it passed the speed of sound. “Excellent.”

    “You’re so pretty, Tanya!” Visha shouted, bringing her into a hug. “I love you…”

    Tanya smiled, her new body blushing at the contact where she didn’t before. “...I think I love you too. Come on, let’s go show off to Elya.”

    “Mm!”

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    “You look… different.” Were Zettour’s first words after Tanya answered another beckoning at their special bunker. It was substantially less fortified than before, which she appreciated. 

    “Fae don’t age normally.” Was Tanya’s response. “Maturing into an adult occurs when one expends the magic to permanently change one’s form. Which our partnership has allowed me to accumulate. For dealing fairly with me, I thank you.”

    “...How old are you?” Zettour asked. 

    “Now now, it’s rude to ask a lady her age.” Tanya admonished, “But the amount of magic we’re talking about typically takes two hundred years to earn, so your acceleration of that timetable is appreciated.” This was a deliberately misleading figure. To be more precise, a richer fae would accept a personal oath of service for two hundred years in return for the proper amount of glamor. “Now, how have you been? Have you been able to spend time with your wife as the war becomes less fraught?”

    Zettour chuckled. “As a matter of fact, yes I have. I’ve delegated the authorizations for Protocol 95 to the General of the Western Front, and assuming he doesn’t overcommit with it, the Francois should be brought to the negotiating table soon.” His face turned serious. “Which brings me to the subject at hand: We want you to be at the peace talks when they happen.”

    Oh? “That is a potentially thorny issue, General.” Tanya said delicately. “However, I am willing to hear you out, as the courtesies have been observed.” She took a sip of the tea that was provided. 

    “While the Francois have yet to respond, the diplomatic arm of the Empire have been hard at work arranging the event in advance: location, attendance, etcetera.” Hm. Doing so would also indirectly pressure the Francois to surrender, both from the show of confidence and by influencing the Francois’ allies to abandon their support. Well, the Albish were still technically in the war, but after a blockade got destroyed by the mages deploying the type 95, their ability to contribute in a land war was fairly limited. “To that end, I believe that you would make a good ‘neutral observer’ to potentially mediate any disputes. This would benefit us in that you would act as a counterbalance to the Unified States, who are also nominally neutral but biased against us.”

    “...As long as you do not expect me to be biased in your favor but instead truly neutral…” Tanya said warningly, “I would be willing to act in that manner. If nothing else, they represent a supply of wealthy customers. I’ll be sure to bring business cards.” This could… end very well. Imperial Germany surviving World War I was always going to be a big middle finger to her memories of history, but if she could prevent the kind of punitive reparations that were so disastrous in her old timeline… 

    Well, she doubted she could make it end worse, anyway. Worst case: nuclear apocalypse; but the timelines were different enough that her “future” knowledge is basically useless for any attempts to avert that anyway. 

    “That’s all I ask.” Zettour said confidently. “We have fought nothing but a defensive war, our only offensives being counterattacks. Further, we are in the advantageous position both morally and strategically, any fair result would benefit us.”

    He wasn’t wrong, but… “Well, if that is all, I must be going. I have a party to attend.” For once, she’s actually looking forward to it. 

    After all, she’s the one throwing it.