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One Last Opal, pt 2

comidacomida copyright 2023

Corwin created His Avatar to be well off and ingrained into high society, but there were still things that He could not simply will into being; even though He was a god, He was no Ancient. It took several decades to found, operate, and grow a burgeoning industrial empire but, by the time fifty years had passed His was the only business to have a mining interest in the areas surrounding the metropolis. During that time, Corwin let no one and no thing stop Him, going to great lengths to impose His will upon the industry with mortal techniques coupled with the patients of a deity. That... plus a willingness to circumvent morality.

While abusive business practices were nothing new, an Avatar of the God of Questioning was even less restrained than mortals who lacked scruples. All mortals knew that Karma was nothing to be tempted thus, even the most 'morally flexible' industrialists were unwilling to cross a line which Corwin saw as a mild suggestion. Once the opals began to pour in His capacity to stretch the sensibilities of 'good graces' pushed to a level that would have been near catastrophic for anyone else. Still, Corwin Muscroft didn't believe in evil for the sake of evil; in His mind, the ends didn't only justify the means... they required them.

Despite his capacity to cause harm, the abuses Corwin inflicted upon the mortals around Him followed three main rules: first, He would act in the best interest of His plans in a way that would minimize any potential harm to others; second, He would entreat those who willingly followed Him as honored followers and lavish upon them all due favors; finally, He would cause harm only to those who deserved it... and Corwin knew who deserved it. Despite having always been relegated to the status of a lesser God, He had an insight into the ways of the world-- asking enough questions ultimately provided Him great answers. Unlike others, Corwin Muscroft was able to SEE Karma.

While His knowledge and understanding of mortals was mostly theoretical or done through observation before He descended to join them as an Avatar, the decades He spent among them allowed a much greater understanding which, coupled with His innate capacity to sense the Karmic Load of mortals of both goodly and maligned varieties, Corwin sought to let their positions within his plans mirror the light or dark within their souls. Karma, He knew, would only ever call someone to task if their evil deeds greatly exceeded their benevolence, but He had no such reservations.

Goodly folk had nothing to fear from Him while those bereft of compassion an altruism became stepping stones on His path... and he did not tread gently. By the time his first century among mortals had come and gone, the Muscroft name had become not only the most powerful and influential one in Maan Ellis; it had gained notoriety across the continent from Maan Ami in the East to Maan Ika on the western coast. Having reinvented Himself with word, law, and His powers as an Operator, Corwin passed the time, ageless, yet without anyone questioning His place in the world. Yet financial power alone was not His goal.

Between His trade empire and mining interests, Corwin's first hundred years among the mortals resulted in an enormous store of Opals. While only three out of every five Opals pulled from the earth were white, those were the ones Corwin sought; all others were bartered away and sold to further fund His ventures. By the time He had mustered enough to move on to the second part of His plan, Corwin had cornered the market on opals; He had become the sole producer of them and anyone seeking the stones (of any color but white) had to get them through him. Soon enough, no white Opals were available new and the only ones to be found were traded on the second market.

Some of the scholars and sages among the more familiar with more esoteric knowledge had theories as to why a man would so jealously guard semi-precious stones-- unlike other mortals, they knew that white Opals were proof against Karmic Backlash, able to ward off the payback done by a wearer for their dark deeds. These learned mortals often wondered (though rarely aloud) if the Muscrofts were secretly selling Opals to criminals, brigands, and other evil-doers at a premium to protect those with darkness in their hearts against their come-uppance. None of them realized the truth.

It wasn't until His dozenth decade among the mortals that Corwin Muscroft began to proceed to the next phase of His plan. His employees by that point numbered in the hundreds of thousands, though His true followers were less than 1% of that. While He was willing to employee any man or woman of any race, He favored those who were destitute, desperate, and pitiful. Corwin pitied the mortals who, through no fault of their own, were left with less than their fellows; the world, despite how 'perfect' it had been created by the Ancients, had a habit of being unfeeling and uncaring... He, however, was not.

Among those who had the greatest capacity to serve His needs, Corwin inducted them into His inner circle, requiring far more of them than He did His other employees, but His generosity was that much greater. Those who caught His eye were those most ignored, most cast aside, most accosted or abused, and, therefore most in need of His intervention. Although His power was limited in His mortal form, His intervention was still far greater than anything else any of the mortals had ever seen, and His commitment was otherworldly. Every last one of His followers became just as committed to Him. Perhaps that's why everything managed to survive his death.

Corwin Muscroft was not without enemies. The rise of the Muscroft line over 120 years did not go unnoticed by others who had previously sat at the top within Mann Ellis. Many of His mortal 'contemporaries' became jealous, indignant, and even spiteful; Corwin was content to let them remain that way. One family, however, did none of those things; they were far more dangerous because they started seeking answers. As the God of Questions, Corwin knew that few things could create as much chaos or interfere with carefully laid secret plans than having someone shine a light on them. He acted with decisiveness.

The actions undertaken by Corwin Muscroft could not have been tracked in a linear line using any sense of imagination; His plans were far greater than any mortal could follow, starting with the taking of a wife. Elizabeth was the youngest daughter of the Lefler household, a grand house which had been one of the most prominent in Maan Ellis before he took that role. Her parents despised him, but not enough to deny him the request of their daughter's hand... especially since she was unable to produce children. She had been horribly mistreated but, under His house, she was treated like a queen.

In a matter of weeks she had come to love Him dearly, and would have denied Him no request, though he made none. Elizabeth was surrounded by opulence; her every need was seen to and, when she desired, He would visit her. They would spend long hours talking about whatever subject she desired and, when they were done, He would provide her a tender kiss on the forehead and tell her that she was very important to Him. She knew it was true, because it was. He made no attempt to hide from Her that He would one day ask something great of her, but She felt that she owed Him everything; there was nothing she would not do for her dear husband.

Although Corwin did not require further access to Opals, there had been one portion of the Egnol Ellis Plains inaccessible to any miner or surveyor; a tribe of Werulfs had claimed the land for generations. Corwin's plan required that He take ownership of it, but not just for the minerals; He knew that one of His greatest followers would emerge from the people and, with the single-minded goal of accomplishing His tasks, Corwin took every step necessary, not only to liberate the land from the Werulf, but to free his greatest devotee: Ferren. The Werulf was one of the singular, most important components to His plan, and the furred disciple was everything Corwin knew he would be.

Mortals, Corwin knew, were guided by their needs, their wants, and their desires. Ferren was one of the few mortals He'd met that had none. The Werulf had gone through life doing what was demanded of him with no ambition of his own-- he was an empty vessel looking for direction... seeking something to desire. Although Ferren was not well liked by his tribe, he was far from the cast-offs that usually represented Corwin's most faithful. Ferren, however, was chief among them because he had never learned to want or to desire until Corwin met him-- at that point, the Werulf's entire life changed and the Avatar became his sole focus; He had given Ferren the greatest gift and the greatest curse: purpose.

Ferren quickly became Corwin's most ardent follower, and for good reason: Corwin recognized his importance in the great plan, and the Werulf flourished under His care. Second to Ferren's loyalty was the Werulf's second most important trait: despite Ferren's inability to cast magic, his spirit burned bright and was infused with a great amount of mana... it was a resource that Corwin would one day need and, since the Avatar played the long game, His relationship to the Werulf was closely cultivated.

Corwin knew that He would require powerful casters, knowledgeable scholars, and great minds-- He would also require an heir. More specifically, He required a familiar, who would become His heir because, as the plan continued to unfold, Corwin Muscroft realized that He was fated to die. It was not something that He feared, or resented, or even disliked; it, as with everything else, was all part of His great design. The rest of His plan came together nicely as He assembled the puzzle perfectly, culminating with the recruitment of Garna-- the Werber He knew would be the perfect Caretaker. With all of the pieces in place, the game could finally begin and Corwin's first move was to sacrifice a queen.

* * * * *

The ritual Corwin had used to create Joshua was significantly different than the one designed to summon a Familiar; it was a divinely inspired combination of multiple different rites that His followers had carefully combined over ten years of work. The rite-master, Altan, a devoutly loyal Heudan follower had worked out all of the details, including the most important components that Corwin had required be included. The creation of a Gaunt was no small feat, especially one that was more than 'just' a Familiar.

It was a very straight-forward understanding among those versed in the ways of magic: all Familiars were Gaunts but not all Gaunts were Familiars. Familiars were almost always magic manifested into a physical form-- generally an animal which was then uplifted once it was imbued with a small spark of a caster. Gaunts were usually manifestations of wild mana instilled into an inorganic totem or, on rare occasions, a plant. The ritual Altan had created on Corwin's behalf, however, bound a Familiar into a totem. It required three main components: a great sacrifice, the entire mana pool of a half dozen ritualists, and 230 pounds of pure white opal shaped into the perfect form.

Ferran, Corwin's most loyal follower had been the one to complete the task of ending Elizabeth's life and, as the Werulf had promised, she had not suffered; Corwin would have accepted nothing less. Between His grief at the loss, and that of Garna, who had been her handmaiden for some time, the ritual obtained all of the due emotions suited to a proper sacrifice and every last drop of mana from those assembled which, upon the culmination of the spell, resulted in the loss of consciousness from all but the ritual leader and Corwin Himself. Even if Altan remained standing, however, the Heudan was exhausted, and so he was dismissed to rest. At that point, Corwin was alone with His greatest creation.

Joshua was the perfect image of a son-- the greatest Corwin could have hoped for. His Familiar was young enough to be graced with ageless beauty, which would be an invaluable trait since he would exist among the mortals for quite some time-- quite literally never aging. He was moments old, but held the bearing and demeanor of any high born youth with years of schooling in etiquette and, when he spoke, his words were perfectly enunciated and genteel. "Per your request, Father, I have come."

When the ritual summoning a Familiar was at its most successful there was little difference between the will of the Caster and the mind of the Familiar; not only did they compliment one another seamlessly, it was often difficult to tell where one ended and the other began. Familiars in general varied depending on the Elemental Magic used to craft one (almost always the complimentary element to the caster's birth sign). Corwin, however, had selected Opal as the principle element of his son's construction... and for good cause. Embracing the 'young man', Corwin spoke calmly and clearly, eyes staring into those of His new heir. "You understand why you are here with Me now, do you not, My son?"

Joshua nodded, the casual gesture still somehow presented regally, yet approachable. "Of course, Father. All that You have built is endangered due to the jealousy and pettiness of mortals. You have a plan, and I am a large part of it."

Smiling, Corwin wrapped an arm around His son's shoulder and led him out of the room. "Quite my Son... but remember that you too are Mortal."

The young man did not so much miss a step. "I understand, Father... it is all part of Your plan. The ritual cast created me as Your Familiar, and yet I will not disappear when You are slain."

Corwin nodded again. "I am pleased that the ritual instilled in you the understanding-- that will save us valuable time."

The ritual had summoned a Familiar, which was normally undone if the caster died; in Joshua's case, he was summoned as a Familiar but, when Corwin died, the young man would become a Gaunt, free from a connection to Corwin but, in return, his time alive would be limited. In all ways, Joshua would become a mortal, and that was the key. The young man continued down the hall with his father as if he were already at home in the house. "You could not grant Inspiration to an immortal, Father... it only makes sense."

Corwin smiled anew; the plan was coming together perfectly.

* * * * *

Although Corwin only had a fortnight with His 'son', it was more than enough time for His heir to prepare him for what would need to be done. Two weeks was nothing compared to the two decades that would be needed for Joshua to complete the plan but to Corwin the time was not the concern-- variables were. He had no doubt that Ferren disliked Joshua, but He also knew that His most loyal follower would do as He asked. Corwin had told the Werulf that His son was to be respected, obeyed, and protected, thus He knew that Ferren would do all within his power to make it so. Lord Muscroft left it at that... until a moment when He knew that His words would have the most impact. THAT was left until He lay on the floor dying from being run through.

The attack against Estate 7 occurred during the weekend; Corwin was, of course, expecting it. He had sent the majority of His security forces home for the night, maintaining just enough that it wouldn't look suspicious. The men who stayed with Him would not survive against the assassins and their deaths would trouble Him for years to come, but it was a necessary evil... as was every other He had been forced to commit. He, Ferren, and a half dozen of His rank-and-file followers remained in the manor-- the security tech and the magical wards gave Corwin the warning he needed to speak his piece.

Corwin stood from His desk, turning to face Ferren. "The moment of which I warned you has arrived, My friend. The assassins come for Me."

The Werulf's fur stood on end, his paw going to the long, slightly-curved blade at his side. "They will have to go through me first, my Lord."

Lord Muscroft smiled benevolently to his best friend and most loyal follower. "I don't doubt that, Ferren. Joel, Karger, Len, and Voltir are already slumbering the eternal rest. I fear that my detractors mean to pay for my death at a premium... seven assassins in total-- only one has fallen."

Ferren let out a low-toned growl. "And they shall pay dearly."

Corwin nodded, resting a hand on the Werulf's shoulder. It made its way to the top of Ferren's head, fussing with the unkempt mane there before patting it. "Janna will be coming through the door soon to warn Me. Zachariah is breathing his last now. When the door opens, Janna will have just enough time to shout an alarm before she is cut down-- I will be facing three assassins coming through the window, and will rely on you to face the three in the hall. Can I count on you?"

The Werulf's conviction allowed no doubt. "On my life, Master Corwin."

The Avatar stood, staring into the eyes of his most dear follower, seeing no hesitation or fear in them. If Ferren expected that he would die that night, he doubtlessly felt that there was no way he would rather go. Ferren, however, was supposed to live. There was a fine line Corwin traveled, but He knew it would work. "You will not die tonight, Ferren... do not fear."

Ferren flicked an ear, fire in his gaze. "The only thing I fear is letting You down, my Lord."

Corwin smiled, gently caressing the side of the Werulf's muzzle. "You never have, and never will, My most treasured companion. This, I know."

The time was upon them and there was nothing more to be said. Turning to face the window, Lord Muscroft counted down the moments in His head, and, as the numbers continued to grow smaller, He heard a soft whisper from Ferren. "I hear foot fall in the hallway- it must be Janna... she sounds wounded."

Corwin drew his rapier and his off-hand rondel dagger. "No matter what happens, defeat the men coming in after her."

He heard the leather wrapping of Ferren's sword hilt straining beneath his grip. "Your will be done, Master."

The breaking of the room's window was accompanied by a rapid, acrid cloud of dark brown vapor rising up from the ground as the launched pellet broke open, releasing its chemical cocktail. The fluid interacted with the air to create a blinding cloud of smoke, but it didn't catch Corwin by surprise. Shouting out a word of power, he gestured in the air with his short blade, carving out a quick incantation and a powerful blast of wind surged forth, disbursing the cloud and revealing the first assassin as she sprang through the window.

The glass, which would have otherwise showered Corwin, was instead sent blowing back the other direction, throwing off the composure of the intruder; the would-be assailant died after a well-placed strike by the Avatar's rapier. The second assassin followed the first, much more on guard, and she carefully parried His attack, attempting to riposte. Corwin's off-hand blade nimbly deflected the attack and He launched His own counter attack, only to be blocked by the woman's own second blade. He could see in her eyes that she sneered at Him from behind the scarf that covered her face as she spat. "You die tonight, Muscroft."

Offering a patient smile back at the aggressive woman, He also added a wink. "I don't doubt that... but at least I'll be in good company."

His casual response caught her off guard, allowing him to offer up a strike with His rapier, drawing a long cut across her left wrist. A lesser-trained combatant might have dropped their primary weapon in order to clasp a hand over the viciously bleeding wound, but, to her credit, the assassin simply clamped her arm against her abdomen and struck back with a flurry of blows. He blocked them all easily, well aware that she was herding Him toward another assassin that had slipped in during the initial commotion. Allowing Himself the lapse in attention, Corwin began counting down His final moments-- all of His plans hinged on the next ten seconds going perfectly.

Even as an Avatar, Corwin still had control of His senses of time; those ten seconds spread out over the course of a minute or more as He took in everything, carefully observing everything as if he were detached from the goings-on, gazing down at things from an omniscient view. He watched as Ferren, ever diligent, ever self-sacrificing made good on his promise to finish the assassins attacking from the hall; the Werulf was an amazing warrior, second perhaps only to Corwin Himself, but three skilled combatants were still testing his prowess. The cut-throat hiding among the shadows was tensing up, getting ready to deal the coup de grace once Corwin was just a few steps closer.

Corwin, of course, was going to take those steps; if the plan were to succeed, Lord Muscroft was not to survive the night. His followers were under strict orders to spirit Joshua away to safety and keep him hidden for at least fifteen years before returning the Muscroft family to prominence. Ferren knew nothing of these plans, but Corwin had faith that the Werulf would continue to do His will even after He died-- He relied on it, and knew that the Werulf would not let Him down... but, for that to happen, Ferren needed to live.

One more step and Corwin was within range of the second assailant. At that point, multiple things had to happen at once, and the Avatar was more than capable of making that happen. Dropping his rapier, Corwin reached out with his dominant hand and pulled a massive amount of blood out of the assassin in front of him, draining it right out of her wrist. Sanguimancy was a powerful magic in and of itself, but nothing compared to what a master caster could accomplish combining it with Alteration. The assassin's heart stopped before she hit the floor, and the solidified blood lance streaked across the room to impale one of the two remaining assassins trying to overcome Ferren, right before the man was able to bury his short blade into the Werulf's back.

Knowing that His plan was successful, Corwin spun around to accept His fate; the final assassin slammed his blade home, right into Lord Muscroft's chest. It was a new sensation for the man who had been a god: a burning heat amidst any icy coldness. The eyes of his killer stared with as much violence as the blade had caused, but Corwin simply met the expression with a smile; using the last of his energy, He raised his bade and neatly slid it right into the side of the man's neck. They fell together.

Corwin stopped focusing on the passage of time, simply reveling in the sensation of death. Despite all of the powers of the other gods, none had experienced what He Himself would come to understand. All of His questions would finally get answers that Seir Kadan could not provide, and over which De'anna had no providence. No amount of inspiration from Strove could provide the understanding that would be granted to Corwin. Somewhere off to the side He heard the sound of Ferren successfully dispatching the final foe.

Although His vision was growing hazy, Corwin could still make out the fuzzy silhouette of His finest companion and greatest follower. He heard Ferren's voice as if it were echoing to Him from the end of a long tunnel. Ferren, for the first time Corwin could remember, was losing his nerve. Although He found it hard to do anything, the Avatar spoke. "Ferren. Stop. Calm... listen."

The Werulf complied immediately. "I am here, Master."

He felt a paw grip one of his hands tightly. Corwin smiled. "Good. I need something from you after I am gone."

He was certain Ferren was shaking his head, though He couldn't see it clearly. "Take my life, Master. You can... you can take it for Yourself. I know you can."

If Corwin's heart had still been working, He was sure it would have swelled at the loyalty, but He knew it had been pierced by a blade and His time was limited. "I am dying, Ferren... you cannot stop that."

"No, Master... No! I--!"

Lord Muscroft managed to summon up the strength to be far more commanding than His body should have been capable of. "SILENCE." Ferren complied, except for the faintest, helpless whine. The Avatar continued. "This is not My end, Ferren. I promise you. In return, you must promise Me something..."

"Anything, Master."

Every part of Him began to feel heavy; He felt tired... exhausted. He found it increasingly difficult to think, let alone speak... or breathe. "Follow... Joseph. Obey him... as you would obey Me."

He heard Ferren's incredulity. "Your Son?"

Corwin clung to his rapidly failing body, refusing the call of the Divine to pull Him away from the dying shell. Every instinct, every thought cried out for Him to leave His Avatar and ascend back to the heavens, but He knew innately that His plan could not allow for it. "We have a plan... Ferren. I have a plan... let... him.... follow it."

"Master... I--"

Corwin wasn't about to let Ferren object. "Promise me."

Ferren's voice broke, and, somewhere far in the distance Corwin was sure he felt the Werulf's paw applying pressure to His chest wound... not that it would help. "I... I promise, Master. If you... if you say you'll return then I'll do anything to make it happen."

Corwin smiled when He heard the words He knew were spoken in truth. "I... have one... more request... My friend."

"Anything, my Lord."

Corwin wheezed as he spoke, finding breathing all but impossible. "Stay... with me... and... one.... one k-kiss..."

Ferren no longer tried to fight back his tears and Corwin could hear his soft sobs from ever-so-far away. He died before He could feel the kiss, but He was sent off by the warm splash of a single tear landing on His forehead. Death's embrace was all encompassing, even for a god. It was exactly what He expected... but it was not the end-- not in the least.

The End? No, The Beginning