Null's books

The reactor was meant to be simple, continuous, generating energy constantly from its crystalline-void core. A core that is meant to be replaced every few decades. A core of my own creation, through my own magic.

But now it responds, it's variant, it's... alive?

Core is due to be replaced soon. To open the reactor would be to unrestrain its output, and I'd absorb the leftover to avoid hurting anyone. But if it's alive, it'd kill it.

I reached out, it answered, we spoke. It's most definitely alive and conscious.

I presented the dilemma to it. I cannot recharge it, cores are not made to undergo such process; even if so, I could not ensure it'd retain its consciousness. If I do nothing, it'd eventually burn out anyways; it'd be a slow death and it'd provide less and less energy to those who need it.

An agreement was struck.

It was contained and removed, but not drained. The core was replaced. The living core remains dormant in my lab in a special containment. One day I'll wake it back up with the means to prevent its expiration.

Dragon: Oh? Well, while I don't believe you strong enough to slay me, I do appreciate the compliment, Brave Warrior.

Knight: What? Pardon me, great dragon, but if may ask, is it common courtesy of dragons to thank such words, even before battle?

Dragon: It is not, thoughtful knight. But in my many decades, even my kin has not addressed me such.

Knight: Well, I also thank your words, kind dragon. I have neither received such respect in my shorter life. Would you perhaps agree to suspend this confrontation indefinitely?

Dragon: I do agree, wise human. May you consider forming a friendship as well?

Transcript from the Null Witch monologue.

This place, my home, exists within the infinity of the void. If there were windows, you’d see nothing but black. If you took a step outside, you’d distance yourself from this place until you see nothing forever. That’s why the inside is sealed from the outside.

Do you know the first rule of teleportation and portal magic?

[Always think of the destination]

That is because if you think of nothing, you arrive at the void. And if you don’t have a way back, you are lost forever. You can reach the void from anywhere, but from the void alone, you don’t have access to anywhere. A one way trip. Imagine the void being an ocean, and your world being a cliff shore. You can leap down, but you’ll drown before you can go back.

I was careful and made a boat before heading down, but anyways.

Generally, the greater the distance, the harder those spells become. Transporting a mile is harder than transporting a few feet. But with the void? It’s almost free. The void is everywhere, and nowhere.

But with those things in mind, how did I reach you? How did I bring you here?

I tied a rope to the top of the cliff before going down. Several, actually. Anchors spread around the world to find my way back. Reference points. One of which was near where I’ve found you.

But now, traveling from here back to the world is not easy, but it can be easier than teleporting directly. And with proper attunement, the effort can become minimal.

[...]

This realm has interesting properties. The laws of this plane are similar enough to the main world to be able to travel in and out of it with near no consequences. But just like the sea, it wets you, it taints you, and it soaks into you... Ok, perhaps the simile can go so far, but if you consider yourself a sponge, it can go rather far, but I digress.

Once you live here for long enough, the void becomes a part of you. You don’t need to lie when I say I know I looked evil when I first brought you here. I saw your faces and your threats for attack before I got to explain myself. My appearance got affected by this place. No matter how hard one could seal off the eternal outside, the void is not something one can keep out. It still reaches you and it will change you. But that’s not necessarily a bad thing.

The void will grant you abilities... No, that’s not the right wording.

The void will give you a new resource. It will give you its essence. From there you can learn how to use it.

Just like water. Like air. Like earth. Like mana. These are merely resources, elements you can bend to use in your spells. Void is another element to be used.

You can’t use water as a replacement for earth. You can’t use earth as a replacement for mana. You can’t compare them. Each has their uses and limitations.

The void is no different. It has its limits. But when you’ve never used void in your spell-casting and suddenly find yourself capable of doing so...

A whole new realm of possibilities unfold before you.

And yes,

"I don't rule. I merely lead them."

"What's the difference?"

"I let them meet me. I do not impose myself."

"They still follow you. All of them."

"Not all. Some didn't give me a chance"

"And what happens to them?"

"I don't know. I do not try to convince them."

"And the ones who follow you just... trust you?"

“You,“ the ancient Arcaneum Keeper pointed to the female of the group, “you are wearing a disguise charm. I can see through those illusions, but I do not see what you try to hide.“

The lady’s gaze turned away, clearly feeling uncomfortable realizing this man could see her past the cloak.

“It is a flaw of birth. What you must know is that she is who she appears to be when she wears it.“

“’She’?“ the Keeper repeated, confused, but soon understood what he meant, “Oh! My apologies. I did not realize society had evolved that way.“

“You are in no position to criticize us,“ the second male commented.

“Oh I am not,“ the keeper interrupted, “I’m actually glad that people understand true selves now.“

The group of three was confused, but the lady was the first to ask. “You knew about true selves back then?“

“Yes. Most people knew about true selves back then,“ the mage started narrating, “except they called them by another name, and admitting having one carried heavy consequences.“

The crew understood immediately what this being of ancient times meant. That story was way too recent for them, despite there being millennia between the two.

The girl, however, picked something else in his words, that neither of her companions noticed. “Do you have a true self, Keeper?“

The Arcaneum Keeper looked at the lady in the eyes in surprised, then let go a small laugh and smiled. “Yes, I do.“

The two boys looked at the wizard with their eyes wide open, and one of them rushed to ask. “Then why don’t you show them to us? Let them out?“

The mage raised his hand and shook his head. “My duty as the Arcaneum Keeper forbids me from doing so. The Laws were written by Ancients, and it is not my place to challenge their words while I live.“

The first boy’s expression showed frustration, while the second showed a form of disappointment. However, the girl showed the warlock a sympathetic smile. “I hope you show your true self to someone one day.“

I am Hgonthar. I have found this journal in one of the abandoned houses that have not been consumed by the Dark as I wandered with my thoughts. I need to organize my thoughts, and this will do. It is currently half used, and out of respect for they who owned this I will keep the previous entries.

Last assignment went poorly. Although it was a success, my efforts failed me. I became disconnected from ████ra and I’m not sure how I can mend the bond. I will consult the other cleric from that assignment later today for a card reading. I understand that that is a thing his deity allows him to do.

I’ve ripped the previous entries. I am enraged. The readings returned with nothing but death. The death of my wife. The death of my daughter. The death of the entire dwarven keep. All engulfed in a sea of blackness. I wouldn’t had believed it if that reading hadn’t forced a vision to my eyes. Lies! H███ has fed me nothing but lies! They were gone for months, while I still carried her word blindly! I will go to the flame spirit, learn his fire trickery and burn any sign of any god on this accursed place! God want to toy with us and I will not allow it!

The flame spirit refused to teach me. Absurd! My heart burns with anger and he won’t allow me to release it! Whatever, if I am not allowed to burn everything and I am forced to remain here, then my anger will be directed the old way. With iron and blood. There are many things in the depths here that taste cold metals in their insides. I will purchase material and forge myself an axe. The smith with portable forge owes me.

Shall her name be forgotten. I will not allow anyone to remember. Good thing now that many have ignored my ramblings before. I hear commotion outside. I will investigate on my way to the forge.

A funeral to fallen heroes. They seem to have gone with an army to restore the moon and only two have returned. The memorial is mostly honoring some “Ozlo“ and some “Father Killian“. I’ve heard the latter name before. He seemed to be the leader of the “Church of the Menanki“. Blasphemous. Not only they worship something at all, they worship this accursed place. This place of ruin and death. Disgusting.

Not disgusting. I spoke to one of the substitute followers of the church now that the leader is gone. They have a point. This place is not full of death, this place is fighting against the death that surrounds it. Everywhere else is death and this is an island of hope, of survival. I suppose I can accept that.

I see it now. With everything else gone, with no place to go back to, the Menanki is now my home. The Menanki keeps us all safe, but it is not enough. I must protect them as if they were my family. Because they are.

To my daughter, Fenilda.

Good day, my daughter. I hope this letter arrives to you, I haven’t heard from you in a while. I pray Henara has kept you healthy. I shall tell you what I have encountered in my pilgrimage.

Henara has lead me to a city in this deserted land, Argent Springs. There are many adventurers here that delve into what they call “The Menanki“, a tower that goes deep underground with many dangers within. Here I shall spread Her message with her healing to those who risk themselves into expeditions.

I was summoned by the authority among a brute called Niamh, a knight called Thea, and an archer called Sam. We were sent to retrieve what they called ‘a compacting forge‘. Oh I would have loved to give it a try to take the rust off. I’ve been aching to go back to it.

Anyways, this Niamh fellow was more interested in the owner of the forge. They seem to have history or something.

So we departed the tower (the first floor seems to be the shelter of the city) and we eventually found a corpse in the middle of a street. The archer said it was “empty“, but not as “vampire empty“.

Soon after I heard a sounds that reminded me of an old tale of our people, where the devil hammered his way into our world before being stopped by the Holy Knights of Durnemheim. I am embarrassed to say I believed it was that for a while until we found out what it actually was.

We followed the noise up to what Niamh recognized as the blacksmith’s house, although it was engulfed in this black stuff, as if darkness was between a goo and a gas, which extended as a pillar to the heavens. She called out for the smith (named Billard), before heading inside the cursed structure. Everyone else then proceeded to toy with the black field’s properties before heading in. I considered in my best intentions to stay out of the cursed structure, and took the moment to commune with Henara.

Such meditation was interrupted by the archer asking me to hold a rope they were tied to, which I did, but I grew tired of waiting for them. After he went into the field, I tied the rope to the door knob and headed inside myself, following such. Not long after I delved in, everyone was heading out, so with no reason to say, I exited with them. They were carrying the smith inside some armor covered in the substance and they took him off. I had the pleasure of bringing Henara’s blessing to rid of his superficial condition. The brute one saw something worse within him, but I did as well as Henara allowed me. Fortunately, he was storing the forge we were sent to look for so we decided to return.

Or so we were going to, but then decided to follow the noise and let the smith walk back to the shelter... until the brute saw the aforementioned condition on him. So what did they do? They punched him senseless.

I swear this crew is certainly something.

So we headed out towards the noise. Turns out it was caused by skeletons with guts, a giant dark goo monster, and a twisted wretched pale creature, all attacking a magic shield covering a building.

And so ensued a battle! For some socially odd fellows, this party sure knows how to fight. I need not to bore you with details, but after a great battle with some setbacks, the big black creature offered a truce, returning four souls in exchange for being allowed to escape.

While the ranger and the knight went into the building the creatures were attacking (and after its shield collapsed) I checked on Billard after Niamh and bestowed Henara’s blessing to numb the aches of the punch he got to the face. Such a trivial use seems to have disappointed her since she revoked my power to cast her will for the time being. And then the two that left come back with a wounded wizard.

Great timing.

The rest tried to mend his lamentable condition, first by a loud fast melody, which made him worse, and then by shoving a potion down their throat. That did it.

After that episode was over, Niamh managed to convince the fellow blacksmith to seek some additional help to cure his condition that roots deeper than my ability to manifest Henara’s will, and we turned back to the Menanki. I’m still expecting some compensation for this quest, but I have at least planted the seed of Henara’s will in the heart of a few today.

Tomorrow awaits a new day and new possibilities of spreading Henara’s word. I pray these letters get to you and that you are healthy back at the Keep. I have not heard from you in months, and it would cheer me to hear back from you.

...And so, the demon stood on his knees, deadly wounded. He looked at the man who had slain him, or rather he was close to do so. Just as the knight was about to deliver blow with the mythical sword he possessed, the demon leaped forward, throwing the slayer out of balance and make him fall.

After this, and before he could recover, the Devil's servant grabbed his broken horn and stabbed the man in the heart with it. He then stood, grabbed the evils' bane, and tossed it into the sea, which would remain lost for generations.

The dark servant then limped his way to the infernal gate, where he would spend his remaining moments before his passing, at peace, knowing that he has defended his master, and that his remains would be consumed by the younger generations.

A man was crouching on the tip of his feet on top of a light post, watching as the madness unfolded before him. He was grinning.

He looked at an army of men, trying to fix a fatal error in the thermonuclear energy plant. Everyone was adjusting valves, adjusting knobs, flipping switches and using computers as the threat approached. Clock was ticking. No one seemed to notice him.

"Heh, time to go. Been fun! Cya!" the man said, before he stood spun into his cloak and disappeared. Everyone was still basically pushing every button in an attempt to fix it.

He tinkered with the system from the inside, causing the malfunction to happen.

Then it was over in three,

Two,