The Last Philosopher

The Game

Way back in the time of the last gathering, near a grove of oaks, some insignificant lifeforms were nearing the end of a long line of manipulations.

"What in magick's name was that?" The youngest member of the Sol cooperative pointed.

They all stopped chanting. It was only ritualistic anyway, giving the thing the right ambiance. Also, it made them at least look like they knew what they were doing. But the Spell was already cast. The most powerful piece of Loitar magick ever performed.

"I don't see anything." Their faction head squinted into the dusk.

"Over there, by the tree, it looked like an arm coming out of the ground?"

"You're imagining things," another sorcerer whispered loudly. "Just because this spell will take life is no reason to get nervous."

"Exactly, nothing will happen anywhere near here," their delusional leader explained. "Soon the Brotherhood will be scattered or dead, and the Black tower will be ours!"

Unknown to the Sol cooperative, the only witnesses to their ritual casting was a secret society. The same one that had manipulated these events into being. Every member of Penetralia had their eyes locked on the game-table, another powerful piece of magick. The table allowed them to observe any place on Sojurut. A big advantage when most couldn't rely on a letter being delivered to next door.

The players of 'The Game' had spent the evening mocking the Sols. For being dumb enough to think the Spell was actually their idea. Still, even with all their scheming and information gathering, the group was far from all-knowing. For example, they had no idea they were also seeing the age of displacement start in real-time.

About to reassure his flock, the head of the Sol faction stood among the kneeling figures in forest-green robes. His arms stretched out like a preacher, he was clueless to the fact that no one would ever hear his sermon. Vidanto had already pushed his naked body out of the ground and stalked around behind him. As he was about to speak, the newly spawned Afreet leaped on his back, biting into his neck and tearing it open.

"That's not supposed to happen," the player codenamed Wrath screamed.

"What's going on?" The representative of Anja, or Envy, looked worried.

"Who is that?" The player from the Muladhara family, licked her lips.

The players all turned to the Game-Master for explanations. The Spell was always meant to backfire. Turning the continent against all sorcerers. But this man-beast hadn't been part of the plan.

"Just a side effect, nothing to worry about," Pride reassured her players. "It seems we're being spared the trouble of getting rid of the Sols ourselves."

As the delegate of the Sahasra family. The GM of Penetralia had the kind of privilege that made people untouchable. She'd barely reacted to the violent display, assured in her arrogance that such small matters would never lead to any consequence for her. Besides she'd never cared about details, she had people to care about that for her.

She was more interested in things like the ancient magick that ran through their massive game-table. Big picture stuff. The table was older than any of the modern magick schools. Predating even the age of magick. It went all the way back to the rise of Bilib, the continent's first city, and it's seven founding families. The picture on the stone wasn't as detailed as the GM would've liked. Still, it was clear the sorcerers were no match for the man attacking them.

Hunger and animal desire consumed every instinct of the new demi-god. He tore through the Sols, like a sharpened butcher's knife through soft boneless flesh. After the initial onslaught, the few surviving sorcerers managed regroup. They used their symbiotic oaks to defend, the ones they'd brought with them to spruce up the old grove. The tree branches were powerful, but much too slow.

One by one, the trees stopped moving as the Sols' limbs stopped being attached to their bodies. After their masters died, the traumatised oaks took root and never moved again. The memory of the violence would remain in that place for as long as any of the trees still stood.

After finishing his first meal, and covered in viscera, Vidanto sprinted from the bloody scene. Howling his frustration into the night and cursing the green moonlight.

It wasn't long before the players lost sight of him. Penetralia had seen the man-beast's Human like figure. Still, they hadn't noticed the scale looking scutes on the sides of his belly. Or that instead of genitalia, he had a smooth hairless bump. If they had, certainly they would've set their considerable resources to finding out what had been created.

Not that it would've helped. How could they have understood that the figure was the theoretical sibling of Dick? Even if they had been aware of the black hole, which they weren't. It's not like there was a family resemblance, since demi-gods can take on any physical form. Nonetheless, both Afreets were spawned for the same god.

Updated: 15.10.2023