AN: Returning to Fanfic after a long hiatus. Been out of the country for about 2 years while on assignment and my mind hasn't been in good places. Everything is now being cross-posted to AO3 so it's not plagiarism.
He was careful with what knowledge he gave her, always wary of her rushing into things, that one day she would bite off more than she could chew. To her credit, Salem was always careful with her experiments, following the instructions in the tomes to the letter, and when it came to alchemy she had a healthy respect for the subject after the first time she deviated she had almost blown herself up. Thankfully the magics of the tower protected her, teleporting the bubbling cauldron a safe distance away seconds before a mushroom cloud rose up over the horizon. Salem had stared at the cloud in shock before she hurled everything to do with alchemy out the window, best not to repeat that mistake. Still her spell list was somewhat limited by the fact that she was still stuck living in a tower so she wasn't able to fling around magic like she would've liked.
She had gotten creative though and used the window as a perch to practice hurling fireballs, ice spikes, boulders and all sorts of other nasties down on the ground before. Seeing her flinging fireballs down, her arms wreathed in fires as her eyes burned gold had brought a tear to his eye, an image of his eldest daughter superimposing itself over Salem for just a moment. Looking at her he was reminded of his children, some long buried paternal instincts flaring up within him, but still out of all the kids, in all the multiverses, why was it Salem that called to him?
Sure their circumstances were similar, toys of Fate and destined for greatness. She was trapped in a tower by an abusive Father, while he was trapped in darkness by abusive relatives. At the same time just peering into the multiverse he could see a million children who suffered the same fate, and even versions of himself that paralleled one another except for key differences. Sometimes he was a man, sometimes a woman, small or tall, fast or slow, warrior or scholar, all these things and a thousand in between. In some worlds magic didn't exist and he led a world of technology, others he reigned on high in a Tower as an Archmage in all his eccentric splendor, a literal force of nature whose whims rocked the entire planet. It was something to think about, maybe something to ask Daphne the next time he visited her. Even after all this time, she was still his first love, the world that they knew long since dead, but the people and more importantly their children now living on a mirror to that earth nestled within the Infinite Realm. It was his own private domain, a place where he went to relax and talk to his family estranged that they might be because of his duties.
But back to Salem, this wasn't the first time that he had seemingly adopted a child, but it was something far and few between, the last one being millenia ago. This was the first time though that one so strongly touched by fate caught his interest, well at least since he had the great idea of traveling to an alternate world in which he raised a female version of himself who later went of to crown herself Empress and set out to conquer the stars in a disturbing Rule 63 parody of Warhammer 40k crossed with Stargate. He wasn't sure what was better at that point, Origin or the Imperial Truth, and he had no inclinations to return to that reality. Though he was aware of his 63 counterpart fully manifesting into the Immaterium and beginning to encroach upon other parallel universes, slowly whispering into the ears of Tabletop players and Neckbeards, teaching them, pushing them to build more and more advanced technologies to the point that they begin playing with the fabric of reality, and when it's at its weakest she punches a hole through to that dimension the Golden Bucephelus at the Vanguard.
Even in M400 there is only war and the laughter of a bloodthirsty Empress.
Salem was different, where his Fate was always fickle and malleable; the destiny laid out for her was as immutable as could be. Where most could be good or evil, Fate had decreed that she would be the Antithesis of all life on Remnant.
Heh Remnant, even before the calamity that Fate had woven, this place was already becoming a shadow of what it could've been. The Brother Gods were already straining against their leads, knowing that they were bound by some force to act, yet never able to clearly see who held their leash. He could feel Chaos' amusement at their attempts, as well as the inevitability of them slipping free. No doubt it would be done simply for her amusement, a way to mess with the so-called "Natural Order'. Just because Chaos and Order learned to coexist didn't mean that they were above taking petty snipes and holding grudges against each other. This world was the castaways of something greater, something that had required the personal touch of all the Aspects, an experiment, whose consequences could cause tremors throughout the multiverses. Perks of being omnipresent, and omniscient in regards to his domain, he didn't need to directly oversee their pet project, allowing him time to ponder.
What was it about Salem that drew him to her?
If he didn't know better he'd say he was a pawn of Fate, some super-existential force guiding his actions, but that was impossible. He was the End, what use was Fate when in the end nothing would exist. He wasn't just Death, the End of Life, but the Anathema to Existence, no one could dictate his actions. Shaking his head, he walked through a portal to Salem's tower, bypassing the defenses and appearing into her room.
She was sitting at her vanity, brushing her hair when she saw the roiling darkness manifest in the corner of her room, her eyes lighting up as she stood to greet him.
"Salem," he greeted, placing a hand on her shoulder. She opened her mouth to speak, only to catch her breath, unsure of how to address him. "I see that your language skills have not improved since my last visit." He teased, dispelling the glamour around his lower face so that she could see the small smile he graced her with. The young girl pouted at his teasing, leaning into his hand, as she reveled in the physical contact. After so long alone she craved his touch, whether it be a hug, a simple pat on the head, or the rare times when his duties did not draw him away and he allowed her to lean against him as he read to her. Each and everyone of those fleeting moments were treasured by her, as he could tell in her heart that she still thought she was dreaming, that one day she would wake up to the real world and be alone once more.
She was broadcasting her feelings so strongly that even he whose emphatic abilities had long since shriveled to a husk was feeling overwhelmed by the longing for freedom that she projected. Perhaps a gift was in order, something to allow her to see the world?
There were many times that she would question his stories, his tales of beautiful and enchanting sorceresses, Morgana, Circe, the Morrigan, and even his own wife. It was his hope that she'd pick one as a role model, but what it lacked was visuals. He had thought about transferring his memories of them to her, but then thought better of it, who knew what she might see within the depths of his mind.
With that in mind he had the perfect gift, one that would be both educational and practical. A single thought later the large window, Salem's only tie to the outside world, was outlined by burning emerald runes that carved themselves into the wood. Touching several of the symbols the image of the outside world shifted to display scenes of battle, sorcerers and sorceresses of untold might more akin to demigods and forces of nature manipulating the weave to cause devastation on an unparalleled scale. The armies they killed were almost immediately resurrected by opposing magic users, as both sides waged a war of attrition. Touching a few more runes he changed the image to show verdant plains, animals grazing while predators stalked from the tall grass. Taking Salem's hand he placed it against the image, which rippled like water. Together they walked through, their spirits soaring high above the grasslands.
She couldn't help the childlike glee that overcame her as she flitted above the animals. Her ethereal form glided on unseen currents as she attempted acrobatics that she'd never been able to do on land. Cartwheels, flips, corkscrews, and all manner of movement came as naturally as breathing, she was about to dive down when a hand gently touched her shoulder, guiding her.
The scene shifted and now they were on the tallest peaks of the world, snowcapped, and deadly, at a height that would've been fatal to most. From this vantage point she could see everything, near and far, a world of wonders and enchantments.
Turning to her mentor, her father figure, she smiled at the scene, her tower far off in the distance but still visible, "one day this will be mine." She turned to the sun, "Everything that your light touches shall be my domain. My birthright, a kingdom of the Sun." Turning she saw a blackened continent, devoid of light and life. "What is that shadowy place?"
He could only shake his head amusedly, so many times before had a monarch thought that they had divine privilege, that everything under the sun was theirs to command, Salem was no different, her fate and ability to lead a thing far into the future. Turning to where she was pointing his eyes narrowed, before a glint of amusement appeared. "New Jersey, you must not go there until you're much stronger."
"New Jersey." She spoke, the pronunciation foreign to her. "Was there an Old Jersey?"
"In another time." He mused. "Come, there is much to see." Taking her hand he whisked them off, diving into the deepest of oceans, exploring reefs and mountain tops, forests and deserts. Lands that had never known the touch or sight of humans lay ready for her to discover, lastly he took her to the heavens, their astral bodies staring down at the blue marble below them.
"They are so small." Salem wondered, awestruck at the sight before her.
"Yet their problems are so large." He commented. "At least to their own minds." Looking down he flexed a sliver of his power and flicked his wrist as if he were tossing a stone. The planet trembled as a meteor struck home, and the seas roiled as a wave 3 kilometers tall suddenly loomed. It was like throwing a stone into a pond and seeing it ripple, only in this case the stone was slightly smaller than Chicxulub and the pond was an ocean of a planet.
A desolate island, devoid of sapient life but the picturesque image of a tropical paradise was swallowed up by the sea as the wave traveled far faster than anything on this primitive planet could ever move.
Landmasses were devastated, mountains and forests swept away, and anything living on or near the coast was instantly wiped out.
"Why?" Salem asked, staring at the damage.
"This world is one of bloody evolution, remember that." He answered simply. "Evolution is unforgiving, but in the end it will push you to greater heights. From this the world will cool, the survivors will be hardier as the weak are driven to go stronger and smarter. Magic is a cheat but even that will evolve as they use it in more creative ways." Touching her shoulder he brought them back to her Tower, their astral forms rejoining their physical bodies.
Salem was quiet as he prepared their meal, bread made from fine flour, meat and fish of the highest quality, food that she would've eaten under her father's rule. She stared at the food idly, poking at it, "I want to leave."
"Hmmm." He pondered, spooning some soup into his mouth. He could see the Fate laid out for her, an immutable thing enforced by divine decree, until it wasn't. His hand stilled, there was a disturbance, no…
His smile was all teeth, a predatory thing that would've sent the souls of the damned fleeing as it promised an end to any that saw it. It seems like his continued presence was having more of an effect than Fate would have him believe.
"Patience." He answered, removing a pair of books from his robe he held them out to her. "The enchantment allowing you to view the world will disappear in 1 month."
The look of horror on her face tugged at his heartstrings, it was cruel he would admit, threatening to take away her one connection to the outside world, but it should provide sufficient motivation for her. "This book," he tapped the top book, "has the theory behind the spell work. While the other has the theory of enchantment, you'll need both to understand how to create a scrying device."
Conjuring a plinth and crystal ball on the table he enchanted it with a touch to automatically create a new crystal ball when the previous one was lifted away. "Any item capable of being used to view something or imbued with the concept of "Seeing" can be used to create a scrying device, whether it be mirrors, glass, still water, or even a window. Difficulty arises the further you stray from the concept, an example being a muddy pool, you can't see into it and the spell to allow you to do so would draw more as it is the opposite of what it needs to do at its core. Other more advanced enchantments require specialized tools and materials, but you should be able to create a decent scrying orb with just this crystal." Picking up the orb, the plinth instantly created another one. "Don't worry about running out of material to practice on, but as always be careful." He gently chided, before loading a spell into the orb and negligently tossing it out the window.
A moment later the scene was one straight out of hell as the scrying device with its sloppy rune work was seized by a greater demon and turned into a portal for the armies of the demonic. The landscape was twisted and corrupted as pools of lava and flame, spires of twisting iron and madness began to arise in Salem's courtyard. Space and time bent to the whims of the greater demon as it roared triumphantly into the heavens, daring any to stop it. The Baron of Hell turned to stare at him, or at least it did for a moment, right before it's head was turned into a fine mist and a pillar of ice shot from the floor stabbed upwards and impaled it for all to see. Turning he could see the peeved expression on his ward's face as she stared at the demons with contempt.
"You, are too loud." She said softly. Sitting back and idly conjuring a chair for herself she picked at the grapes on the nearby table, all the while her right hand began to pluck at the weave of the world.
Like the Queen that she had been destined to be, she passed judgment on those beneath her, her gaze never faltering as she indulged in the sweet fruit, the screams of death, the backdrop to her coronation, punctuated by the sharp staccato of thunder and the cracking of lightning.
Storm of Vengeance.
His brow rose in surprise, he hadn't seen that coming. The self-contained apocalypse, capable of calling down lightning, thunder, acid rain, torrential downpours, hail the size of boulders, and sustained winds strong enough to rapidly erode mountains. He hadn't expected her to be able to cast 9th level magic, at least not so early, she was barely into her teens, physically at least. He had expected her to take another 2 decades at least before she was able to cast anything above the 8th level...this called for a specialist.
Plucking at the air and manipulating reality itself he created a sphere of annihilation and dropped it on top of the hell mouth. 'That would keep them busy for a while.' He smirked. The Burning Fields where he had sent the sphere were a part of Chaos' realm, and he could only imagine his on again off again partner in crime's face when she found out that a part of her realm had been cut off and banished to another extra-planar realm.
"1 month." He reminded her, running his fingers along the window allowing the runes to glow brightly so that she could study them. A simple wood and glass hourglass materialized next to the plinth, the sands slowly dropping, informing her of the impending deadline, and with that last parting gift his form wavered, and he disappeared from her tower.