The Old Dwarf was in his three thousandth year of being pissed off. Everyone knew to stay out of his way except the Administrator. She came into his sacred forge and giggled her commands before disappearing.
By the Old Gods, he hated that shit.
He threw his obligatory tantrum and left a band of knocked out good for nothings he'd had the misfortune to call apprentices in his forge before he stepped out.
Now on the main road of the Elder's Avenue for the first time in centuries, the Old Dwarf marched grumpily towards the entrance. He shoved away the idiots clogging up the path with his hammer, slamming any foot that displeased him, scoffing at any complaints of his gentleness.
He hated coming out here. So many fools trying to ingratiate themselves to gain an Elder's favor.
Disgusting.
Either no pride, behaving like sissy worms, or too much pride, believing themselves messiah's unto the multiverse. Actually, those were pretty funny. He liked the ones with god complexes. So interesting to poke holes into their fragile egos. Making those children realize how small they were was his new favorite pastime. It's not like he had anything else to do lately.
And with that thought, his mood worsened.
He tuned out the noisy chatter of the rabble as he trudged forward.
It was so far to the front, where new Elders were assigned before they could prove themselves. It had been a good long while since the last idiot. He was still sitting at the entrance, having earned little in karma even after so long, unable to raise his rank. Hopefully, the new idiot wouldn't be so worthless.
Although the way the Administrator had described him as a ‘mysterious treasure trove not to be underestimated’ was a little creepy.
He passed the dilapidated wooden entrance of the door marked 135, spiting at the door in disgust, as he came to the last wooden door by the entrance. It was the simplest wooden entrance, given to those unproven, but it was still new and pristine. At the door, a small plaque read 136. He hadn't yet earned the right to place his name on the door.
After who knew how many epochs they had been at war, this was only the 136th to reach the Elder status. His own rank had fluctuated so much throughout the vastness of time that he no longer remembered what rank he was, but he had been here for a long time. Much longer than most. Now a new idiot had joined their ranks.
Despite his grumbling, the Old Dwarf was a little nervous in anticipation. What would be the presentation of the newest Elder. Would they be another combat focused idiot or maybe an idiot that knew something other than just slashing things? By the Old Gods, he needed another craftsman to join the club, or he'd go mad, and that the Administrator asked him to come, knowing his need for fresh blood, had him a little hopeful.
Or she could just be a mean bitch.
Stepping through the small wooden entrance, the Old Dwarf found himself in a standard blank space that was commonly used for recorded martial presentations. He was feeling a real disappointment when he noticed something wonderful behind him.
“Haha, that bitch! We got a new one!” He shouted in triumph, maturely letting slide the Administrator's little joke.
A beautifully crafted crystal wonderland lay before him. The Old Dwarf ran twelve laps around the perimeters, admiring the exquisite craftsmanship that even he, as an old monster of the cosmos, found refreshing, and he hadn't even gone inside yet.
He was practically drooling as he obsessively touched and rubbed everything he was impressed or curious about.
The delicate handling of crystals showed a young but impressive mastery. The Old Dwarf's ancient eyes could easily see the way each material had been lovingly and reverently treated. Each blade of crystal grass that swayed with the wind was worked with the same focused care as the wonderful little stone sculptures that dotted the path.
It was as he admired the systems that used the flowing rotation of the water and purification runes in the form of two crystal fish orbiting a simple gravity manipulation rune, that he was shocked to realize, all the runes he'd seen on every surface of every flower, plants, and trees, and even this... Origin Runes.
There were so many Origin Runes of so many branches. There were the physical enhancement, purification, elemental, light and darkness, summoning, sound... by the Old Gods even pure destruction runes.
How was this possible?
A single Path is the exploration of a single attribute to the pinnacle, and piercing that pinnacle to reach the Origin and achieve Divinity. Endless study and meditation was required to reach the peak of any single Path before they can prepare to penetrate the veil and Glimpse the Origin, thus stepping into the 9th rank and becoming a demi-god and gaining access to the subsequent Origin Runes.
His own primary Path was that of the fire of creation. He was already a legendary blacksmith when he created his greatest mortal masterpiece, his Ego Flame, thus earning his right to Glimpse the Origin. His Origin Runes helped him enter an even greater path as a blacksmith, crafting weapons worthy of gods.
To use an Origin Rune of a different path requires more than recreating the flows of energy.
One must have a mastery beyond understanding in order to gain enlightenment, which means having climbed another peak and attempting to catch a second Glimpse of the Origin.
As an old monster, the Old Dwarf had had climbed three peaks and gained two Glimpses of the Origin. It was his inability to catch the third that had caused him his three millennium long grouchy disposition.
Now he had hope.
This was the garden of some legendary master that had done more than Glimpse. The son of a whore had a whole damn guided tour of the Origin. Seriously, what the fuck was this?
How was it possible to only now become an Elder after having obviously climbed numerous peaks? Was it perchance an old monster from a fringe world that has only now made contact with the enemy and thus the Nexus?
They had always theorized the possibility of demi-gods appearing without the Nexus's support, but they had never encountered one to date. Was this the first?
He was still thinking about what of his treasures he should gift in exchange for enlightenment, marveling still at the delicate beauty around him, when he came to the final piece of the Garden, one that he had tried not to focus on until he made it down. He enjoyed experiencing things in order.
The Old Dwarf wasn't disappointed. He was supremely freaked out, but definitely not disappointed.
Standing under the most beautiful crystal tree, at the heart of the Garden, was a beautiful sculpture of his own mother.
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It had been hundreds of thousands of years since he was last able to recall any memories of those precious early years. He was simply too old, having seen and experienced too many things.
He hadn't thought of the importance of remembering his roots till he had already forgotten them.
Even though he had forgotten what she looked like, when he saw that old smiling dwarf, haggard and hunched from a hard life, it was as if a hidden vault in his soul had been opened and it all came back, fresh as if it were yesterday.
His ol' Mum had been born in a small village with small-minded people. She wanted to make something out of herself, so she ran away to the big city where she found none of her old dreams come true, so she made new ones.
She always said that he was her dream come true.
He'd been a bugger of a dwarf in his youth and paid no mind to the small woman from a small town with her small dreams.
He didn't treat her very well, but she always had a smile and a kind word for her precious treasure.
It wasn't until she passed from a hard winter that he woke up to find he hadn't taken care of his own greatest treasure.
In his grief for his belated enlightenment, he threw himself into making something of himself.
He worked and worked and achieved his goals beyond his wildest dreams. The young dwarf became an Old Dwarf, burying himself in his pride and glory so as not to remember the greatest failure he'd never be able to fix.
The Old Dwarf sat at the feet of his forgotten mother and wailed with forgotten grief. He remembered all the things she'd done for his stupid ass that he never got to thank her for and how hard he'd tried to bury it all.
Now the festering wounds of the past were brought to the surface and ancient tears washed them clean.
Snot dribbling from both nostrils, the Old Dwarf looked up to see his ol' Mum look down at him in the way she always did when she said she loved him.
He felt a warmth envelope his being and his soul being nourished with a gentle healing energy.
He wasn’t aware of the damage to his soul until he felt it being healed. He felt a weight lift from his chest—a weight he hadn’t even known existed—and experienced an unprecedented feeling of refreshment.
The Old Dwarf was getting up from the ground, wiping his face on his apron, when his hammer shook.
His mighty forging hammer held a circular void through its center from the side where his Ego Flame called home. It assisted him in all forms of forging and combat.
The Ego Flame was supposed to help him in refining his hammer to an Ego Metal, which he theorized would allow for his 3rd glimpse. Alas, even after four thousand years, three thousand years more than his estimated thousand, he still hadn't had any form of success.
But now it was shaking.
The Old Dwarf brought his hammer up to his old, wrinkled face with both hands and was shocked to realize that his Ego Flame had undergone a drastic transformation.
It no longer roared in tempestuous flames within its confines as it had since its conception, but swayed in a tranquil dance while giving him a more frightening impression than it did before. The flames had found peace while hiding its even more terrifying heat.
The Old Dwarf didn't have time to hop his happy dance when the hammer shook again.
Like it was waking up.
The Old Dwarf was looking on with wide, disbelieving eyes as his hammer, after thousands of years of careful nurturing, awoke its ego and became an Ego Metal.
He laughed in hysteria as the hammer squirmed and wriggled like a newborn living creature. Which it was.
The Old Dwarf quickly composed himself as he promptly closed his eyes and attempted to communicate with his newest family member.
The hammer slowed its protestation until it finally relaxed into stillness.
Aged but gentle eyes slowly opened to admire his new child, as he gently stroked the hammer like a father welcoming his newborn into the world.
Laughing, he tossed the hammer into the air, where it froze, first in trepidation, before becoming lively. The flame came out and danced around its new sibling where it produced several balls of flame to dance with it.
The hammer shook and poofed various shards of metals into existence that danced with the flames.
This triggered the flame to produce more and more flames, which the hammer answered with more and more shards of metals.
Soon, the entire blank space where the mirrored Garden sat on display was filled with the dancing lights of a thousand flames reflected on a thousand shiny shards of metals that danced just as elegantly.
The Old Dwarf was laughing with emotion as tears streamed down his ancient bearded face when the world went black.
The consciousness of the Old Dwarf shook in excitement at the familiar, out-of-body experience.
Finally, at last, the World Fruit that was his home. His entire Universe was contained in this single magic fruit.
The first glimpse of the World Fruit took his mastery of the Planes Runes unique to his world to a whole new level, but it was what came next that the Old Dwarf had been yearning for.
First was a red stream of energies connecting to his World Fruit. That was the first set of Origin Runes he had glimpsed. The Origin Runes of Fires of Creation.
His second was one he'd walked in tandem with his Primary Path, the Path of Fires of Destruction. A darker red stream of energies ran entwined with the first.
Finally, a new stream of energies he'd never seen before revealed itself.
This one was bright and earthy. It connected to his world fruit in the same manner as the first two, but while the first traveled up in to many branches, this one traveled downwards at a slope before plummeting into the void.
He could now make out more of the World Tree's figure than he had before.
How he longed to see its glory in its entirety, as was every demi-god's inner longing.
He awoke to reality, his two children still immersed in their play.
“Congratulations Old Grumpy Dwarf! You finally did it! Now you can be an Old Happy Dwarf!”
“Puhahaha! Indeed! Three millennia of grumpiness is enough! Hahahaha!”
The Administrator was a little surprised to see the Old Dwarf play along with her. He must have really needed that Glimpse. He'd been so close for so long, he deserved it.
“I'm glad your visit was a fruitful one.” She said with a warm smile.
The Old Dwarf froze at that. He'd almost forgotten who he was dealing with. Lowering one's defenses around the Administrator was just asking for trouble.
“Now that you've gained so much, I think it's time you paid the price.”
“Well,” The Old Dwarf blustered, “I do appreciate the quality soul maintenance, but if I'd known about the issue beforehand....”
“Oh?” The Administrator cocked an eyebrow. “You think that all you've received is a simple healing?”
She looked down at the silly Dwarf, amused.
The Old Dwarf began shuffling embarrassedly at the Administrator's glances.
“Do you honestly think that the master of this place sculpted a statue of your mother?” she pointed out in exasperation.
That was right. What was a perfect statue of his mother doing here? Was the master a pervert?
“Stop thinking silly thoughts. This is a spiritual artifact that the master crafted that soothes the soul by bringing the most emotionally nurturing figure to the forefront. This is a sculpture of his own mother. You, who are experiencing this work, see your own. This nurturing brought true peace and soothed your angry ego flame, allowing them to properly nurture an ego metal. Perhaps those who didn't have a nurturing mother will see another that fits that role. We'll see in time.” The Administrator said, as if that were totally normal.
The Old Dwarf did not share that languidness.
“A spiritual artifact?! As in a treasure of nature? Crafted? Is he a God?!” The Old Dwarf didn't notice the fists full of beard he had been tearing out.
The Administrator bopped the Old Silly Dwarf on the head to save what was left of his mighty beard. The two ego elements had abandoned their play and now hovered around their tormented father in concern.
“He is farther from divinity than you are, but he is closer to becoming a god than all of you,” she said in her annoying, mysterious manner.
The Old Dwarf felt a new raging fire boil in his chest.
“He is very weak. He knows nothing and needs guidance. That will be the price you must pay in exchange for the opportunity you've reaped with his guidance.”
Now he was lost once more. Weak? How can one that has walked so many paths be weak? He was probably the most powerful Elder in the Nexus with how many Glimpses he's had.
“You will understand when you meet him. He is resting in his domain. He has had a very trying day and was too emotionally drained to take in anything, so I let him sleep. I will allow you this once to access his domain without his consent. I trust you, Old Grumpy Dwarf. Don't let me down. Giggle.”
That annoying giggle was still echoing in the Old Dwarf's ears when he found himself again thrust into a different space.
An endless field of some type of purple plant.
And nothing else.
Not even a sky had been manifested, still an empty white canvas.
This contrasted with what he'd expected from one who had such artistic vision to craft the wonderful garden that he'd experienced.
The Administrator mentioned that the new Elder was too tired and was resting. He must not have had even the energy to manifest a proper place to rest. What tremendous battles must someone so powerful overcome to be so weary?
The Old Dwarf spotted a small lump lying on the clover field, fast asleep. He was stunned to sense almost no power from the figure and upon approach was stunned again by his apparent youth.
It wasn't that old monsters couldn't retain their youthful appearances, but there were still differences from actual youth.
This boy was actually young. He could sense the vitality of his energy. Young.
The fuck was going on.