I’m getting there. Long games are, well, long. They take time. Like good chili. Or tomato soup. Or picks. Or cheese. Especially cheese.
–Beginning Basic Narration of Recording 17–
“Where are we?” Grapefruit inquires as the recorder again awakens to a sight of a darkened supply closet. It is the same room that the first recording started in.
“A closet,” Sarela answers.
“A place where we can discuss a solution to the problem,” Lapadj explains in more details. “Your form is problematic. You need to choose something that is not edible for a Human.”
“Aye,” Sarela concurs, still invisible. “Unless you would like Lapadj to try to eat you. Maybe that would transfer your title to him.”
“One has to show dominance and mastery over the title to get it,” Grapefruit the Goddess of Programming asserts, not detecting the clear sarcasm of the quip. This elicits a burst of laughter from Sarela.
Lapadj shakes his head in utter rejection of that idea. “That is wholly untrue,” Lapadj says.
“Your Ascended proved his intelligence and knowledge and took over the position as God of Knowledge and all that,” she refutes. “He showed mastery over such things–it is a necessity.”
The cloaked Empirian crosses his arms across his chest. “You selected one of the two instances where that is true,” Lapadj responds. “The other instance is Haeihlseth Magayak and his taking of the title of God of Magic, the instance where that is not true.”
Something like a grumble comes from the Goddess. Not quite an admission of that truth or some twisted way of rejecting it. Something that was barely a something.Then it formed when she spoke: “Well, it sure did take mastery over magic to summon the being that granted him his true Immortality so that he could defeat the old God of Magic.”
“What was his name?” Sarela wonders aloud. “The God of Magic.”
“Magus?” Lapadj guesses. “Whatever. Vehk. But King Haeihlseth did not become the God of Magic at that moment. He only did when he defeated the God of Magic in their duel.”
“Which, as we all know, involved no magic at all on his part,” Sarela adds to that.
“Are you so sure?” Grapefruit questions pointedly.
“Yes,” they both answer at once.
“Watching Haeihlseth bludgeon a God with his staff is close to required viewing in the Empire,” Sarela says. “Who could not want to see such a display of Empirian qualities? It is glorious.”
Lapadj nods his head and makes the motion to click his fingers. As he is blocking his ability to perform that action, it accomplishes nothing.
Grapefruit humphs. “Well, I am not an Empirian. I would like to see it so I can be sure of it.”
“Sure, I love watching it. Makes me feel such pride in being an Empirian,” Sarela says.
“I have to agree with that,” Lapadj murmurs. “The Spine can show it to you discretely, thankfully.”
“To be sure,” the Szarehan says to that. “Spine, show the Goddess of Programming that scene.”
At the utterance of my title, a fraction of my being begins to do as the Empirian Sarela asks. That version of my being projects the display of the specific shared memory of that duel in such a way that only the two Empirians and Goddess may see it and behold its glory.
It begins with the sight of the recently-made King of Magaya, Haeihlseth, standing before the God of Magic. A crowd of Empirians, swarm the space around the pair. Words are shared by them, muffled because it is irrelevant to the then-desires of the Goddess and the pair of Empirians. It speeds forward to show the duel between them. The God of Magic uses various displays of magic and might to attack Haeihlseth, but he is unfazed. All damage dealt upon him is regenerated. He strides forward, summoning his staff into his grasp. Then he proceeds to beat the God of Magic with it for some time until the God cries out the Tyra Tarkush word for conceding. It is in this moment that the title is transferred to King Haeihlseth. The projection concludes as the scene is now over.
“It is so beautiful,” Lapadj chokes out, water leaking from his eyes. “Sarela, Sarela, turn the recorder off, I do not want them to-“
His desire is made real and the recording ends abruptly.
–Ending Basic Narration of Recording 17–
I, ugh, derailed pretty hard. I can’t resist bringing up how Haeihlseth became the God of Magic. I just can’t. It’s almost as bad as my jokes/references/use of Cyclone being, well, dead. I’m trying really hard not to make a joke about it right now.