“Kill. That’s what the main point has always been. I would need to kill it. ‘Drowning’ is just killing with water.”
Sparrow pauses for a moment, looking into the fire.
“That’s just the thing, though. It’s made from a Book of the Drowned God, at that point the Underlord. So it came from the Underlord. So there’s nothing to reclaim. No, I’d want to destroy those chains. From there, we’d see what it does.”
“Well then I guess I need to look into better ways to destroying god chains, huh?” Seilaan replied, reclining back on her comfy chair.
“I can do it,” Sparrow says. “If it’s brought to me, then I can tear them off. Before me, Ba’loch’s power withers.” The way Sparrow says this is peculiar. His voice loses an edge, an energy he holds even in melancholy. In its place is a mysterious quality that is both cold and ferocious. It does not sound like how ‘Sparrow’ would sound in any other conversation.
Seilaan has heard this before, and from these sessions has likely grown familiar with this tone of voice.
“That’s something to be proud of, Sparrow. You’re useful. You can do a lot. You should take pride in that.”
“But nothing direct. I…I want to shatter him. Storm into the realm of the old gods, drag him out and destroy him, split his power up among the others. Like we did with Forturnal. But I can’t. If I even start to consider it, it escapes me. It is not the way of the Underlord to take favorites. So I have to be indirect. My followers I can help. And any brought to me. But there is only one way to bring anything to me.”
Sparrow stops to pause. “I can only think of how small he is. How small they all are. When I think of destroying them, all I can see is how much more powerful I am. Even weakened as I am, he is like a child. And as bad as he is, as horrible as the things he has done are, I can’t help but feel that if I were to hurt him, any of them, it would be so much worse.”
“Your power is relative, Sparrow,” Seilaan said quietly. “Even the gods are held to our worship, in some way.”
“Relative, huh? Bah! Yeah, I guess you’re right. Look at me!” Sparrow spreads his arms out. The light in the room noticeably darkens, despite the flame. “All the power in the world. Power over Gods, over Et’Ada. And I can’t do a damn thing!”
Sparrow lowers his arms and stares at the fire. His eyes have an intensity, and Seilaan can tell he’s staring at the fire itself, following the tongues with his eyes. “None of it makes sense, you know. Everything is so damn precious. I can’t do anything. Even when my whole thing is about killing! It’s how I convert! It’s how I proselytize! But lift up my sword? Resolve to kill for something? And it all falls apart. I can’t do it. How the fuck did the Lord of Death become a pacifist?”
Sparrow tosses his cigarette into the flames.
“So instead, I fight Void. Channel all the agression into that. Tell myself it’s better that way. That is has to be done.”
Sparrow’s head hangs, and he whispers into the fire: “That it’s what she would have wanted.”
“She?” Seilaan asked, furrowing her brow.
Sparrow glances at Seilaan, looking as confused as she does.
“She?” Sparrow said, and then losing balancing. He grabs his head and almost falls over before grabbing hold onto a chair. He sits down, looking faint. “Shit,” he mumbled.
Seilaan stood up and hesitantly made her way over to Sparrow. “It’s all right, you can talk, take your time.”
Sparrow takes a moment to compose himself. He appears to be sweating.
“Sorry. Said that without thinking. Or like, it came to me. That happens sometimes. It’s like, I’m doing something, don’t think about why I’m doing it, and then it comes to me. I don’t realize anything. I just kind of remember. And then it’s like I always knew it.”
Sparrow takes off his hat, “I remember a little bit more every day, Sei. A little bit more about what I, well, the Underlord has done. What we want. Why we act.” Sparrow pauses. “I wanted to talk about one of those memories, Seilaan. But it’s hard. The more I think about it, the more I feel like it’s going to tear me apart. I don’t even remember it really. I just know it’s there. And that one day I’m going to be able to relive it perfectly, like it’s still happening. And I don’t know if I survive that.”
Seilaan says nothing, but gets him more hot chocolate, and smiles. She lets the silent last for a bit.
Sparrow takes the hot chocolate. It seems that he has achieved greater control over his “vessel”, and has no trouble moving his hands and fingers. He takes a sip.
“In the beginning, Omega created us,” Sparrow says. “We were her first creations. And her greatest. Fire, Water, Air. Light and Dark. The ingredients you need to make a universe.”
Sparrow looks up at Seilaan.
“But there was a problem.”
“Yeah? What was the problem?” Seilaan asked.
“Alpha had already made his own universe. So we destroyed it.” Sparrow sounds numb while saying this. “I don’t know if there was anything living in it yet. But if there was, we killed them all. Burned any buildings. Shattered any realms. We tore apart that universe and pulled it all–” Sparrow stops for a second, gathering himself before continuing. “Pulled it all into the Void. And then we made our own.”
Sparrow lets out a laugh, but there is no mirth, joy, or even irony to it. Really, it’s more like a grunt. “And here I was talking about how my emissaries are for a natural purpose, corrupted by the Void. They’re probably just doing what they’ve always done.”
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