Grand Inquisition

Something didn’t add up.

A detail he did not see from the bigger picture.

Wyrmwood was already close enough to Oceania to begin to influence its inhabitants.

Little Spider was deeply concerned. It shouldn't have been possible considering his star maps were up to date thanks to Synth.

There was a wriggling shadow upon the floor.  The wriggling mass swept past him and touched a simple mirror he had in his private room. The silvery sheen went as dark pitch.

Lightless as the bottom of the ocean.

Little Spider shuddered.

There was little on this world that could inspire such… Fear. The prismatic dragon whom he won…. Neutrality from.

There were sounds from which no mortal lips could issue them. Horrid sudden changes from soft whispers

To harsh screams.

The sound of a thing attempting language for the first time.

“FOund You”

His dragon eyes spied the shadow it was issuing from somewhere. Shadow tendrils emerged from the shadowy main mass.

“How reckless of you to creep into my home.” He clapped his hands twice just before the tendrils reached him and the entire area burst with a sudden intense light.

The sudden intensity rendering the shadowy mass powerless and indistinct.

There were things the inhabitants of Oceania were not ready for. He had confiscated certain objects, because they were dangerous. The things they contained were dangerous.

Or had the capacity to horrendously misused.

That golden brick couldn’t remain here.

Not in his private arcology in his reality marble.

Sure as shit, the shadowy mass was coming from the secret passage he had hidden the heavy golden book.

“ARC, Begin level four quarantine parameters.”

Brilliant light pierced the area as the hidden door slide open.

“Inducing light sensitive neutralization.” The bland emotionless voice articulated.

Copious streams of inky blackness seeped from the locked book.

The entry point.

He gripped the binding of the book. It was cold as the void.

He gasped as he felt tendrils pierce his right arm as he ran with all the strength he could muster.

“Initiate, True Lockdown with level one quarantine on my mark.”

He made it back to the entry room.

Little Spider easily hefted the occupied coffin.

“Begin”

As he felt as though he was being sucked through the merest crack.

The tiniest slice of sun cracked over the horizon. The agony was simply beyond description as it washed over him.

Alas, Death could not come for him. Like all third generation…. Condemned to eternity. It had to be done…

Little Spider found a safe space to hide Wyn’s coffin. His body began to crumble to dust.

He’d return by dusk. He vastly preferred the sun’s deleterious touch than the cold embrace of an ancient evil’s…. defilingly intimate caress.

He was an old thing. An ancient thing whose ire once provoked proved most difficult to quell.

Come sundown….

When he returned…

There would be blood.

With that last thought of vengeance, he crumpled to dust.

“Now that you are full and have some whiskey. “Cadoc’s eyes softened as he told his sorry tale about how he got his lover snatched by monsters.

Drinan was tired.  He realized as he finished his meal and his recounting of events.

“Yes?” He drowned his sorrows pretty well. He didn’t feel anything.

“Sonja and I did some digging here and there’s something you want to see in the basement.”

“W-whats down there?” Drinan slurred his honey brown eyes unfocused from the potent drink.

Cadoc got up and helped him from the chair. Curiosity tugged at him.

What did the governor who was fast becoming a valuable friend want to show him?

They made it to the basement without incident considering the revelry echoing from outside.

Cadoc set a hard pace that Drinan struggled to follow.

They made it to the back of the basement.

Cadoc stopped in front of a shroud. A hidden figure hidden by an obscuring veil.

“Did Mr.Weaver say anything about how old he is?” Cadoc asked.

Drinan didn’t see the point.

“Well, No…?” Drinan stammered.

“There’s… A reason for that. Before the founding of this city there were few settlements here. Gorllewin was founded a thousand years ago.”

Cadoc gripped the shroud.

“I don’t understand.” Drinan slurred as Cadoc pulled the shroud off.

It was a weathered statue. Its facial features completely recognizable.

Mr.Weaver’s visage stared back at him. The unmistakable nose. The eyes. The craftsmanship was superb to hold the facial features so exactly.

Drinan chuckled and was glad he was drunk. 

Cadoc looked at him with concern.

“Why does the first founder of the city look like Mr.Weaver. Drinan. Why does Mr.Weaver look identical to Zail?Gorwellian’s founder?”

Drinan wasn’t nearly drunk enough to answer. A small spider skittered across that recognizable face in ancient dress.

Drinan chuckled.

No wonder Mr.Weaver disliked the grand inquisition. The Grand Inquistion was a suspicious organization and tended to hunt down anyone who was long lived. Those long pass a normal lifespan were hunted down.

A thousand years at least. That put Mr. Weaver substantially older than many supposed “immortals.” None of them to date lived up to the title. Five hundred had been the record Drinan drunkenly recalled.

The Grand Inquistion was known to forcefully interview such beings the inquistion had acquired.

Many of those supposed immortals died under questioning.

"I need to sleep," Drinan stated.

He needed a long rest.