World Keeper: Birth of a World

by Justin Miller

  After sending the messenger off, the group decided to approach these creatures. Having a body similar to theirs, but larger, meant that they should be able to see reason. Furthermore, Sjorn could make out leather satchels hung over their shoulders, similar to the packs the halflings themselves wore.

  Intent on starting a peaceful dialogue, Sjorn himself went forward. If, by some chance, these creatures were not intelligent, then they could at least befriend them as they did with many other monsters and beasts. “Greetings, friends!” He called out in a high pitched voice, drawing the attention of the creatures to himself. “I am Sjorn of the far lands! I have traveled many suns to find this place.”

  When the creatures saw him, he thought that he saw a look of surprise on their face. Due to his Hunter levels, he was able to clearly hear them making strange noises to one another, as if they had gone mad. One of them pulled an item familiar to Sjorn from his back, a bow similar to what he himself used. However, the one wielded by this creature was several times larger than his own.

  The bow-wielding creature came forth with large strides. Pulling an arrow from the satchel on its back, it nocked it on the bow and called out loudly with that strange tongue. Sjorn could only frown, unable to understand the creature. Thinking it might be a matter of not being close enough, he hurriedly walked forward, much to the surprise of the party he was addressing.

  “I’m sorry, can you repea-” His words were cut off when an arrow pierced through the wind, and into his skull. This drew a gasp from the five halflings behind him. Very rarely would a halfling ever harm another halfling intentionally, and these five had never seen such an event. The idea of an intelligent creature willingly killing another was unheard of to them!

  There was one, however, who was not caught unaware. Sjorn’s own companion, a feralic named Caborn, roared in anger. It stood back on its two hind legs, four thick arms raised up in hatred. Its body was covered in a golden fur, making it stand out among the growing grass.

  When Caborn fell back down to its hind legs, it began charging towards the creatures that had murdered its friend. This caused them to all pull out bows similar to the first one, all nocking arrows that flew towards the feralic. Yet, it continued its mad charge. Even when one of the arrows flew into its eye, it did not stop. Blood calls for blood, and so it arrived in front of the first enemy.

  Just as it was swiping one of its forearms out to slash its long claws at its enemy, the creature nimbly stepped back. It pulled out a leather scroll from its satchel and ripped it in half, causing a spear to appear in its place. Only when the spear had struck directly into the feralic’s remaining eye did it fall.

  By now, the first of the halflings were starting to snap out of their daze. One of them pulled a small leather scrap from their pack and ran, hoping to get far enough away to send a warning to the Rest. A warning to stay away, one which was never delivered.

  The hostile creatures easily caught sight of the fleeing halfling, their faces twisted in scorn. Before the scared halfling could escape to the next hill, a dozen arrows rained down upon his body. Unlike Caborn, this halfling did not possess the vitality of a feralic. The red line of his health almost entirely vanished in a single moment, and he fell to the ground.

  From the distance, the creatures could not see that final sliver of red that was slowly fading away, so they turned their attention to the remaining halflings. Seeing as they had started to recover, they likewise began fleeing, running in different directions. This caused their opponents to laugh, suddenly treating this like a hunt.

  Meanwhile, while his friends and family were being hunted down, Salvin, the one who tried to send the warning, slowly opened his eyes. He could feel his breath weakening, and knew that he had no time left. With his last breaths, he drew the symbol for danger on the leather scrap, and grasped it in his bloody hand. “M-Makin…” He called in a weak voice, causing the thin shirt on his chest to rustle. A furred creature, almost two feet long with four paws and a long bushy tail, crawled its way out of his outfit. This was Makin, Salvin’s lifelong companion, who had been hiding itself inside of his shirt when the arrows struck his back. Makin looked up at him with watery eyes, knowing that his friend was dying.

  “Makin… please… send this.” He held the leather scrap out to Makin. “Send it to the Rest. Please…” With that, the light in his eyes faded, his body finally going limp. The small, furred creature let out a sorrowful cry as it pried the scrap of leather from his dead hands. On it, the symbol for danger had been all but erased. All that remained on it now was a single, bloody handprint.

  Still, Salvin had asked him to deliver it with his dying breath. And he was going to do just that. Unbeknownst to the creatures hunting the rest of the halflings and their larger companions, a small figure fled away within the grass, quickly disappearing from their field of view. All that was left was the laughter of the ‘hunting party’.

  * * *

  As part of their regular pattern, Elter Greymane was leading his herd to hunt near the tall woods. Traveling beyond the woods was forbidden, as that meant leaving the domain of their god. Yet, being this close often proved to be a suitable hunting ground, large creatures sometimes leaving the tall woods to be hunted by them.

  Yet, this particular hunt had an unexpected outcome. While they were seeking out new game to bring back for the rest of the herd, they heard a shrill noise that caught their attention. One of the youngest, a buck with black hair, turned to the Greymane and respectfully asked. “Greymane, what are those things?”

  As for Elter, he turned to look at what the young buck had pointed out. Immediately, his eyes widened in surprise. What he saw was only half a man, barely half a child. While the upper body was that of a centaur, its lower body had been replaced by two small legs. “Is that a new type of cursed?”

  “Greymane, apologies, but that name has been forbidden.” The young buck advised, glancing to the herd. With the reign of the first king, Ashur, the variants were no longer allowed to be called the cursed. Instead, they were given their proper names, the ‘unicorns’, ‘pegasus’, and even the rare ‘qilin’. However, Elter was from an older time, and had grown up with the old names.

  Even though the king had passed into Tryval’s embrace, the laws left behind remained. “You’re right, old habits. Still, what are they? They carry none of Tryval’s grace, and if their path is true, they come from the tall woods. Do they not fear His wrath?”

  After asking that, Elter pulled his bow out, as well as one arrow. “Leave this place!” He shouted back to the tiny thing, slowly walking closer. “Remove your blight from His land, or be cast in blood!” As he spoke, he nocked his arrow, ready to fire if the thing did not heed his warning. While it did not have Tryval’s grace, it had the head of a man, so it should speak as one.

  Yet, what surprised Elter most was that this thing did not heed his warning at all. Rather, he ran forward, shouting some shrill cry. Thinking it a charge, Elter naturally fired his arrow. He had trained for many years, and had broken past the old limits of power. With his strongest Powers being those of the Archer and the Warrior, his aim was true. The arrow pierced through the thing’s skull before it could finish its cry.

  However, still more surprises came. It was only at this point that Elter noticed a small horde of beasts gathered a distance behind where the tiny one came. Among it were five other tiny ones, seeming even smaller than the one he had just killed. Yet, a roar caught their attention, a six-legged golden bear charging towards them.

  “Kill it!” Elter said, no longer able to see this as anything other than an attack from outsiders. He pulled more arrows from his satchel, each one striking true on the bear. One even managed to claim its right eye, yet it refused to fall.

  When the bear approached, Elter wasted no time in hurrying backwards. Discarding his bow, he grabbed one of the promise scrolls in his satchel, tearing it to retrieve his spear. Calling on his Power of the Warrior, Elter pierced his spear into the bear�
��s remaining eye as it stretched its large paw out towards him. Thankfully, the spear’s reach was longer than the paw of the bear, allowing the Greymane to stay out of its range.

  When he looked up, he saw one of the tiny ones running back towards the tall woods. “Shoot the running one! He will call for aid!” After he spoke, he bent his knees to reach down and retrieve his bow. He could hear twang of the bowstrings as arrows were fired one after another. Like the first, this small creature also fell. “Now the rest, let none escape! For the glory of Tryval!”

  “For Tryval!” The hunting party gave a cheer, splitting off to chase the rest of the small ones as they ran in different directions. They would paint the grass in their blood, and remove them from His land.

  Chapter 68

  “Well… that went worse than I imagined.” I said with a dull groan as I stood up from my computer, having watched the first meeting between the halflings and the centaurs play out on the screen. When I walked out from my room, I was surprised to find that the entire pantheon had gathered in the living room, their eyes glued to the television. Even the self-proclaimed shut in Udona was there, though she was tucked away in the corner.

  On the screen was the same scene that I had just been watching, and the gods had different reactions to it. Most of them were simply disappointed that the first meeting had gone so poorly, but there were two with different responses. One was Aurivy, who was leaning against Terra on the couch with watering eyes.

  The other was Tryval, who stood behind the couch, his fists balled up in anger. When he saw me, he immediately made his way past the other gods to stand in front of me. “Milord, please let me go down and put an end to this conflict before it can proceed any further.” As he spoke, Aurivy looked up with hopeful eyes, and I could only sigh reluctantly.

  “No.” I said, surprising most of the gods present. Only Terra seemed to have expected that answer, smiling approvingly.

  “What? But, why?” Tryval took a step back, shocked by my denial. “Surely, you do not support this fight between the races?”

  Even Aurivy’s eyes seemed to turn cold when he said that, but I shook my head. “It is nothing like that. Really, I wish that they’d stop fighting as well. But, we can’t have the gods interfere in this battle. If you want to get involved, you can only do so by using the Heavenly Game.”

  Tryval still seemed not to understand, his brows furrowing in confusion. “I request an explanation, milord. I simply cannot understand why you would not allow us to end such a bloody battle.”

  Rather than answering him, I turned to look at Terra. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but the gods can’t interfere with the invasions, correct?” She nodded her head in confirmation, so I turned back to look at Tryval. “You’ve spent all of your time on the world below, so it is normal for you not to know about this. But, once this world becomes powerful enough, it will be invaded by others. These invaders will be seeking nothing less than the complete destruction of the world itself.”

  Seeing the surprised gazes once appearing on several faces, I came to the conclusion that Terra had not told a few people about this matter. “During these invasions, the gods cannot interfere with the fighting. But, if we start using you guys to prevent wars now, they will become dependant on that. Most of the races will never figure out how to fight for themselves. And when the time comes that the world is invaded, they won’t be able to fight back, thinking that you all abandoned them.”

  Hearing my explanation, Tryval took another step back, nodding his head. “I understand, sire.” After that, he turned towards Aurivy, his gaze softening. “I am truly sorry for the actions of my people, little one.”

  Aurivy didn’t immediately respond to Tryval, just looking pleadingly at me for a moment, before nodding. “It’s… alright, Tryval. But, can I make a suggestion while everyone is here?” When Aurivy said that, everyone turned their attention from me to her. “This is… hard to say. But, no matter what happens, or what wars go on, can we all make a promise now that we won’t let it come between us?”

  As she asked that, she looked between every god and goddess in the room. “I don’t want our family to get hurt because of what is happening below. And maybe, just maybe, if we spread the word after these battles are over that we see each other as friends and family to our people, they won’t want to fight each other as much.”

  Seeing as she was the first victim of such a conflict, her words carried even more weight. One by one, the gods and goddesses began to nod in agreement. Terra even spoke up, reaching up to ruffle Aurivy’s hair. “Since when did you become so wise, huh?” Of course, this caused the halfling goddess to flail her arms about pitifully, raising a round of laughter from those in the room.

  “Anyways…” Terra said as she looked to me. “You should fast forward a bit again. Not by much, just a week or two. We’ll need to see whether the halflings choose to fight or to flee.” After saying that, she looked towards Aurivy. “And don’t interfere with their decision this time, okay Rivy? Like Dale said, they’re going to need to get used to fighting like this eventually, so let them decide for themselves this time.”

  Although Aurivy looked like she wanted to protest, she nodded her head slowly. “Okay… I don’t like it, but okay.”

  With that taken care of, Terra clapped her hands. “Okay, then! Everyone who hasn’t already started the Heavenly Game, feel free to pick a side to contribute to this battle. Remember, we want to minimize damage, not help one side win over the other.” Hearing that, the others all looked away awkwardly. “Wait… did all of you already create an incarnation?” Terra asked in surprise, closing her eyes and focusing on something.

  “Aye, lass.” Tubrock spoke up first. “It seemed too interesting a thing not to do.” Several people nodded at his words, showing that they shared a similar believe.

  “I needed to begin practicing and spreading martial arts.” Bihena continued, giving her own reason.

  “I only suggested the system in the first place so that I could learn more about magic.” Ryone admitted with a nonchalant shrug. “How about you, Terra?” She asked mischievously to the catgirl goddess, whose ears flattened against her head.

  “Well… I wanted to see what it was like to be mortal.” She spoke in a quiet voice, causing the others to laugh. Surprisingly, Irena was the one to nod in agreement this time.

  Smiling at their reaction, I couldn’t help but ask a couple questions. “Is there a reason why you guys can only have one incarnation at a time? I didn’t remember seeing that as a restriction for this system. Also, are you even able to make one that’s not from your own race?”

  Unsurprisingly, it was Terra that answered. “We could make more than one, but even we can only split our minds so many times before we start slowing down mentally. Especially when most of those fragments have to move at a faster speed than what we have here. I might be able to support an extra incarnation because of my system knowledge being a substitute for training, but I doubt the rest of them can.”

  I nodded my head, understanding that issue. If it were me, I might not even be able to split my mind once, with both moving at a normal speed. Let alone with one moving tens of thousands of times faster.

  * * *

  For two days, Makin ran as if his life had depended on it. It took him less than an hour to overtake the large spider that had been leisurely crawling along to deliver its own message, not even stopping to explain. He did not stop to sleep, or to eat or drink, using his own power and will to push through the journey.

  By the time he arrived at the Rest, his own red bar of life had begun to gradually deplete. Seeing this, Savir quickly ran up to greet Makin. “Little one, are you alright?” Savir was the Hunter living in the Rest, and thus would often take the messages from the beasts and monsters that delivered them.

  Seeing that Makin was near death, Savir took out some food and water, slowly feeding them to him. At the same time, he accepted the message that Makin was desperately trying to push
into his hand, opening it up to see only the red handprint, the blood having long since dried. Unable to understand the meaning of the message, he continued to nurse Makin back to health for a full day and night.

  Only when his health had recovered did Savir connect his mind with Makin. “Tell me, little one. What became of your friend.” After saying that, a blurred scene replayed within Savir’s mind. Makin often slept in his friend’s shirt, finding it more comfortable, so his first real sight of the creatures that attacked them came only after Salvin had been felled. All he saw were the strange creatures laughing as they shot down the halfling, and the expression of despair on Salvin’s face as he handed the scrap to Makin with his dying breath.

  Seeing this, Salvin felt as if his mind had been struck by lightning. His blood began to boil with a rage he had never known. Unlike the young ones that were with Sjorn, he had heard of halflings killing each other before. Each time he received a message of such an act, he would send word to every Rest within his reach, letting them know that person was not to be given shelter. As a people blessed by the goddess, to slay one another was the greatest betrayal. And yet, these creatures did so with such pride and joy.

  “Do not worry, little one…” He said as he looked to Makin, who was curled up on the floor, resting to recover his health. “I have received your message.”

  For the rest of the day, Savir began writing messages to every Rest, sending back replies with every beast or monster that entered his Rest. Blood had been spilled, so he sought to gather every halfling in the area. Any who would heed his call. And with every message, he would cut open his own palm, placing a bloody handprint on the back of the message. This would serve to remind them of the urgency, so that none would delay.