Exodus

[Tom Marvolo Riddle]

It had been a much more simple matter to retake my human form even after only ten minutes of recovery. Something about the blind helplessness of the form simplified resting or perhaps it was the nature of the battle around me and source of my power being drawn from it. Whatever the reason, I was once again whole, though still far more phantom like that I would have liked. The burning pain riddling my spine, cover and paper was there in the back of my mind, but it was tolerable in the most unbearable sense.

“It’s unfortunate my assault on the city’s invaders was a fruitless venture in securing an alliance.” I said, weariness riddling my voice. Smoke was still pluming from some unfathomably primitive hobble just behind the wall. The wait for my newfound allies apparently was going to take much longer than I had hoped.

I gave a side long glance to the being who called itself Nealaphh, still wondering about its curious appearance but broaching such a topic at the moment seemed… taboo. Instead I thought about something else. For all the time I had spent with him, and I was often skilled in understanding most within a handful of hours, Nealaphh was one of the few that I could not classify. There was no humanity to derive a nature or set of goals from.

My fingers fumbled with the diary that housed my soul; even with my thoughts on such topics as my companion other things also came first. Cracks upon my cover burned with a fiery weirlight stained with drying ebon ink. That my form was burning was unusual, but then so was what I had infused within the tome once upon a time.

The genderless entity nodded once before its thought-speak rang out quietly, “In time though they may come recognize your contributions to the battle and the boon they owe to you.” His expression was unreadable. The timber in his telepathy though was unmistakable, as such that I felt his was of a similar quality to my own state of mind.

Both of us bore our wounds on our sleeves so to speak, mine perhaps literally.

I sighed, “Something unusual did happen. That one individual spotted you through your guise without any reason to know you, and the red haired usurper-“ A rumble forced its way through my words, “absconded with my power, my knowledge and turned it against me. Both are new experiences, are more to be expected?” Pain shot down s my construct’s backside. Everything for an instant stiffened before I relaxed my inadvertent grip upon my binding.

My magic had been defiled by someone neither worthy nor capable of wielding them properly! Then. Then! When the advantage was mine to end the threat and possibly collect artifact of some sort, I had been interrupted not once but twice. And I was still blind to the ways of things. Though the Dataverse had satisfied some of those particular requests. And fortunately Nealaph himself had been able to provide me a detour enough to obtain the corpse of the one who had fallen from the sky by my hand.

A preservation charm and banishing it ensured it would keep until I retrieved it from a pocket universe.

Waiting for a response I began flipping through the assortment of pages that comprised me and catalogued the injuries done and what spells would be best to rectify them. Among them was a letter held within me like a bookmark, the one Omni had struck down, the one requested me to deliver.

I chuckled despite the ire burning within even as I read aloud the name upon the corner, “Demetri Malius.” The one I had hoped to contact in Nealaphh’s absence, the one who we were waiting on now and the other. If luck was with the one this letter had been destined for, he’d be coming to us. That is if he had survived the onslaught, to which I was skeptical of. If what had been done to me was just a taste of what these new worlds had to offer, then what hope did others have? It was questionable at best.

Already my magics had bested two foes. Though one had survived, if barely, due to the interference of the other, retribution was still due there. I would see it-

Someone was approaching in garb befitting the area around us. The need for such clothing conjured a number of reasons, the most primary was survival. Human, or human like. An entity bound by biological needs. Perhaps the one in question? It was a queer look to say the least be in some ways fitting for the form presented.

He had completely ignored me which was barely understandable. I was nothing more than someone else merely in the company of another. However he seemed to pay particular attention to Nealaphh which provoked the man into prattling. A whole speech even which was somewhat concerning, had this man been practicing the entire way from Nippur?

Vice Dean of Unity.

That matched with records that Nealaphh had provided, they were listed in the Monotruth’s glossary that he had given me or was it something else. Either way the information was there and that made this man the recipient of the charge I was given by the… mail lady, if one could describe the entity that could match Nealaphh in similar nature before Omni himself struck her down.

When he finished his entire monologue he simply turned to look at me, no more than glance but it was enough to give me an excuse to hand over the letter.

“It seems Nealaphh you were right about him. I wonder why the Courier’s last act was to charge me with delivering this.” I said with a bit more strength than I really had; presentation was important and I held my tone to a ‘knowing’ sound. It would grant me some level mystery while implying a greater scope of current events.

Immediately it earned me a second longer glance as he took the letter from hand. I could practically hear the gears turning as he measured me. As cliché as it sounds, it fit the situation the perfectly. And what were clichés if not the stereotypical representation of life? They were stereotypes for a reason because of their common place nature. Further more the fact that neither of us recognized each other meant any combat we had both seen had been separate. It gave me the advantage that I knew more of him than he of me. Those narrowed eyes and the piercing stare told me more than I needed to know. There was some intelligence behind them, reckless possibly but still intelligent. Though I could been simply be mistaking intelligence for unadorned, hard-won, experience.

Time would tell.