Rowan had always thought that Primordials were figures of great powers whose interests could never align with each other, but he saw something different here, apparently, whoever this figure was, it warranted enough of a threat that it would appear that all of the Primordials came together to kill him, and if he counted the weapons sticking out of the figures back, which were three different weapons, then that means there must at least be three Primordials.
He knew of only Chaos, but this proved that there were still two other Primordials in existence, and there could also be more.
Yet there were six seats before this table, where were the other two entities that were supposed to be here? Were the Primordials even supposed to be part of this gathering?
What also struck Rowan as important was that their method of attack was through assassination and not frontal battle.
What were Primordials? These were beings who could bend every law and reality to fit their whim. It was impossible for Rowan to even begin to comprehend what creatures like these were capable of, but against the true body of his father, they had to ambush him.
The more he understood about the mysterious entity that was his father, the deeper the rabbit hole grew.
Rowan almost fell into despair at the seemingly impossible task of killing his father, before he realized that the person he would be killing was a reflection.
This was also a start, no matter how small. If he could kill the reflection of a being with a power that was similar to or even greater than a Primordial, then one day he would be able to kill that being.
What also gave him cause to not despair was that within him was a prize that was earnestly sought by this creature. That meant Rowan was more valuable than he realized and perhaps the cards he had to play had more weight than he gave them credit for.
“I will kill you, it does not matter how high you reach or how deep your resources are. You will suffer for the pain you have caused me.”
The destruction of his Spirit Matrix Gate freed him of the consciousness power that he could channel into his body, arresting the rampaging powers that had nearly infiltrated his bloodline.
As he easily kept them in check his mind now freed of excessive distraction Instantly recalled two mundane events in his life that he had not even considered as important, but everything seemed to tie itself together when he saw the cup on the table that held the single drop of blood whose reflection held his father.
His breathing nearly stopped as he began to furiously analyze what they could mean with the new information he had available to him.
The first important recollection was when he found the world with a red moon for the first time. While inside the Nexus, he had come across a strange yellow crystal that had taken him to this strange world.
He had later come to find out that this yellow crystal could only be found on Trion and nowhere else. Rowan had been planning on acquiring this crystal but for the moment he had not been able to get even a small portion of it.
Focusing back on the memory, even disregarding how strange that world was, and the availability of souls floating around, what was more important was that when Rowan was being transported to that world, his Soul fell into a grinder, as the strain of teleporting to that strange place tore his mind apart.
Due to the Primordial Record and his powerful bloodlines, he was able to awaken his Spatial Sight Aspect, and due to the process of awakening his Spatial Sight, he had come across certain visions that seemed nonsensical.
He had seen a bright white light that was shattered into pieces by a clawed hand, the pieces of the broken light became many colors that became solid blocks.
Those blocks were covered by a wave of darkness; the darkness was split apart by a terrible roar, and with that sound chaos erupted.
Rowan had felt his mind reassembled, only to break again when new scenes entered his mind…. .
A rain of blood that erupted from an ocean’s worth of bodies.
Stars fell from the skies only to be eaten by massive mouths, a mountain with spider legs dancing, and a smiling cup of tea that was devouring other cups.
That last portion was important because that smiling cup of tea was the same as the TeaCup on the table that his father had inhabited. .𝒎
What were the odds that the vision he saw of that TeaCup would be random?
The second place he had come in contact with a similar TeaCup was during the story of Erohim being narrated by Circe Boreas during their time together in Jarkarr.
Medan was a unique language of the gods that could be used to transfer not just words but emotions, pictures, and even entire memories, and the story Circe told him had likely been told to her by someone else, all the way to whomever first told this story, and this recollection came with the memories of the first person who recited this story.
The story begins with Erohim’s struggles to be born and the difficulty of his birth. His father Orum had left for a place called the Ends of the Universe to the so-called Ancestors to ask for help but he was rejected.
Upon returning home to his wife, he was met with despair at the situation he met, his wife had been torn apart by the emerging Erohim, and Orum in his rage tore Erohim to pieces with his bare hands.
Orum began to torture the people that were left on the planet for they had been sustained by the blood and the breast milk of his wife.
He made the sun burn too hot or he took away its light, leaving the world in darkness. From this darkness, he had created terrible monsters that he let loose upon the lands, bringing great suffering to all.
Erohim, even in his reduced state could not endure the wickedness being perpetrated on the people by his father who had gone mad with rage decided to also visit the home of the Ancestors of the gods using his voice and the remnants of his flesh.
𝘳𝑎.𝒸ℴ