The Mercenary

God-in-the-middle

Hestia looked over her son's shoulder, frowning while she watched him handle the human invention. She was feeling both intrigued and annoyed on how the humans tried to mimic them, and fearing one day they would believe they are gods, as their inventions tried to copy their magic. They could see images from afar through what they call cameras, could move with the speed of sound and could bring back mortals from the brink of death. She cringed at the thought. No, they were not gods yet. Until they can plug their camera in the fabric of the universe, travel through time and bring back someone from beyond death they weren't even close. They relied on their tools: electricity lines, cell towers and complicated machines to keep people alive, bringing them back to life but leaving out the soul of it. Instruments she could topple down with a flick of her wrist.

Zamolxis frowned and muttered:
'Humans have free will, especially for screwing up.'

Hestia looked at him, unhappy. 'Screwed up?' He was spending way too much time among mortals. But it didn't sound good. It meant trouble.

'As you know, mother, I hacked into their servers and put a bridge between their program and our training grounds.

Hestia winced. Here he goes again: hacked, program, servers. She didn't like the sound of it. It did keep though the borders between the realms safe and closed.

'I made the bridge small, so only one soul at a time can sneak inside or come out. A square head made it as big as I10!'

'What does it mean?' asked Hestia, the frown between her eyes deepening.

'In fact not much, mother', Zamolxis tried to calm his mother.
'Sometimes, a human could enter the training realms without an uhm... invitation. For this to happen, he must spend an important part of his day playing the video game. In truth, these are the mortals we are recruiting, mother, isn’t it?' asked Zamolxis with a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. 'The ones finding more enjoyment in front of the computer than elsewhere’ he continued.

Hestia shook her head. She didn't like leaving anything to chance.

Zamolxis stared at the new data coming in. Damn humans! He needed at least a couple of hours to restore the spells. Weaving the fabric of the universe needs careful planning.


'I don't have a test universe', he laughed. One more reason humans will never be like the gods. They couldn't do something right the first time, they needed tests and beta-tests and the result still turned out full of ...err... bugs. 
 

His idea was simple: work in what the humans called the quantum level, manipulate it with what people used to call spells and intercept every communication from the video-game servers. He would then analyze, carefully selecting the target warriors.

His litmus test was the most prized item in the game. By earning it, the players showed dedication, guts and wits. By the sheer amount of time needed to carry out such a deed, they proved they had little life outside the game. The was no danger of them having a concerned family looking for them, opening police reports and creating unneeded stir and noise.
  Now the darn humans made it just a bit easier to get the item. In the next couple of hours, a handful more people will enter the gate separating the worlds. A single unsuspecting player was too many, a handful meant a catastrophe. 
  He started slowly and carefully to change the spells around every wire, one inch at a time. Humans called this a 'man-in-the-middle' attack. 
 

‘Nah!’ he laughed, 'god-in-the-middle'. 


Then he stilled again, dead-focused on working the spells. Seemingly he needed to return the adventurers mistakenly entering the portal one at a time.
‘A senseless waste of power!' he grumbled.

Colin was playing again and Ella took up playing to be with him. When they were together he was alive, swarming around her with care, help and protection. The game’s world was a place where he knew where the good armors are, the shortest path between any two places and the fastest mounts.
There he was a powerful lord, high ranking in every clan and sought after.
Today he was searching for the most desired item in game. Yeah, it had a medieval name, with power, truth and light in its name. She was as always gathering herbs; a mechanical task which left her thoughts free. A roar startled her and she almost spilled the tea. She looked at him, his face was bright and he started to dance. He NEVER danced.

'I got it' he yelled.

'What did you find? 'she asked.

'I got the damn thing', he answered spelling out the item with power, light and truth in the name.

She looked at him with admiration, as gaining the item needed great skill, patience and pure luck. They could relax now and perhaps watch a movie together.

'Wait...’ he said. ‘A message popped-up: it mentions a secret realm. I never heard of it. I am given a key to open the portal and it says the game company will deny rumors of it should I make any enquiries. Let me check with Fredrick.'

'He says he heard indeed rumors but the game company repeatedly denied them and nobody has ever seen it.'

'Try it. A gold farmer couldn’t to pull this trick off. It would mean all the servers are compromised.', she said.

'OK' he admitted. And pressed the button to enter the portal.

What happened next was most bewildering. The light flicked and went out, a spinning sensation took them both until everything went dark.
She woke up in a field holding a bucket, trying to remember her name and why she was there.

'Are you OK, Aleryn ?’, asked a woman. She was must unusually clothed. When she looked at herself, she noticed the same style of garb and she realized she doesn't remember anything. Oh, yes she did. She must return to pick up the grapes on the Stonebridge farm.
He woke up near a large Abbey with no recollection of his name or why was he here. He headed to  the doors hoping the monk guarding them will have answers.

'Good evening, son, what is your name?' the monk asked.

'Name...'  'I have no idea' he thought. And something came from deep inside him. He didn't know what it meant, a faint memory about something else.

‘Reradec...' he answered.

Zamolxis was sifting through scores of would be warriors, assessing the damage. How many souls must he return? He started to resent this idea, which right now was creating more problems than it solved. He almost thought that hiding from satellites was preferable, at least it was fun. However, Hestia liked the plan, and she didn't concern herself with the "little details".

He owed it to her, first for being his revered mother and the Queen of the Gods and second as a payment for a 2000 years-old  mistake.

He still wondered what happened, how their people lost the war when he had everything set up in the slightest detail. No reason to cry over spilled milk though, Hestia was humiliated, and she held it over his head.

"What the..." he surprised himself saying. His mother was right; he was indeed spending too much time in human company.

"What is this fledgling doing here?  " he muttered. He couldn't believe his eyes. A weakling managed somehow to enter the portal reserved only for the mightiest warriors.

"I got to send her back! Now!" he thought loudly.
"She is dead meat!" Zamolxis sighed deeply, unhappy with his repeated slips.

However, when he tried to tug at her soul and drag it on the other side of the portal, he met an unexplained resistance.

"What the hell, the bound is excessively powerful, I can’t see what she is tied to, and... HOW?” he exclaimed with a grimace.

Zamolxis was bewildered. He held the supreme power in the realms. He weaved them. "Nobody knows exactly how the universe began" he said in a mocking voice. "Indeed!"
"I enjoyed shaping the world, and the Titan suit was a real help. Rising mountains, dredging seas and breathing skies was a breeze compared with THIS"

"The master of the Pantheon can't move a weakling.” he laughed with disappointment.

Zamolxis paced the hall thinking of a thousand of possibilities. The Twisting Nether had no interest in such a weakling, although she could easily become a collateral casualty. He needed to do something, and fast.

Although an alternate world, it was, nonetheless, a world, one of the hundred million worlds him and his team of Titans shaped 10,000 and some years ago. Unlike the Earth, it allowed much easier and faster reincarnation but death was death. Every time she died it was tenfold harder to bring her back.

"And some think a handful is insignificant." Zamolxis glowered.

He just couldn't let her die, at least not senselessly, and he needed to buy time to figure out the small issue of her bond.

He wove an elaborate spell around her to remain one of the town people, strolling around endlessly.

"NPC" he thought grinning; that was what the humans would call her. The Twisting Nether minions never dared to approach the town, and she should be safe, as long as she stayed in town that is.

Settling this, he moved to the next ones on his list.
"Reradec and Vayacondios" He winced at the names. He couldn't change history with them; he couldn't change the names.

"They'll never make it into the elite, knights to the King."

Probably, none of them should be here, but he couldn't decide who he should send home. He resolved to let both stay for a time, and the best will remain.

Hestia needed only the best warriors. Zamolxis didn't like the idea of the war redux.  "What was done cannot be changed", didn't she remember that? He helped her because of his guilt. He left her people in their darkest hour to take care of the brave new worlds. First, he had no idea it was their darkest hour... then he thought, in earnest, that everything was taken care of.

He also hoped she would change matters now, rather than the past. In the end, he always counted that Janus will never accept the challenge and agree to a replay.
Zamolxis sighed tiredly. He took care of the whole list and returned most of the uninvited guests home.

Now he could start doing what he enjoyed: like rising mountains, dredging seas and breathing skies...