Malcolm Tent
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Wish upon the Stars chapter 1083
🕑 Added 2026-02-14 01:44:58 +0000 UTCStepping into the crevice that was the Valley of Broken Gods was a surreal experience. In some ways, it just looked like an empty cave, but I got a palpable sensation of otherness on entry. Or rather, several senses of otherness. Such as: a hungry beast lurking in the darkness, a shadowy presence waiting at the top of the stairs, the sensation insects crawling through my veins, and about a dozen others all unique and nearly impossible to put into words, colliding inside my brain in the worst way.
Leviathan’s protective warmth rolled through me, melting the encroaching frost of the conflicting auras like warm sunshine blazing down over new fallen snow. I let out a long, slow breath as the conflicting energies cleared away, stepping deeper inside and looking for any visible sign of what I was sensing.
It didn’t take me long. The walls of the crevice were lined with shrines. Nothing fancy, just some rectangular stone boxes with peaked rooves set into indents equidistantly along the wall. Each box had a small door made of opaque glass set into the front of it, and from behind the glass I could see various glows of different colors, shades, and intensities. The two closest were red and green respectively.
I stepped forward, and the omnipresent auras faded into the background as two of them slammed down with bonerattling force, nearly driving me to my knees. “MORTAL!” boomed a growling voice. “SUBMIT!”
Gritting my teeth, I turned to the blood red aura, which was the one that had spoken. “Bite me,” I said bluntly.
This was not a god. This was a fragment. These were all fragments, which meant they were all dead and that wouldn’t be changing unless I decided to change it. Which I wouldn’t. I saw no reason to be polite with these things, especially not while they were actively attacking.
“YOU DARE!” howled the voice. “Do you know who I am? I am Alrax the Decimator! I am the great beast who dwells within the blood red sun! I am the unceasing ferocity of the unending chase, the screaming terror of impending doom! I am-”
“Dead,” I finished for him. “For a while now. Which means you’re no longer any of those things.”
A ringing snicker split the air. “He’s got you there, Rax. You’re just a jumped up ghost with an attitude problem now.”
“Like you’re any better Alraune,” rumbled the first voice. “The might god of insidious whispers reduced to a muttering nuisance. You’re one step up from commentary section at a children’s blood ritual.”
I blinked. “I…a what? Nevermind. I’m going to move on if you guys don’t need anyth-”
“HALT!” boomed Alrax. “Go no further, mortal! To pass through our influence, one must be worthy! You are not. To prove yourself worthy of my acknowledgement, I require a mighty warrior who has lived a live of strength and violence. You are but a suckling babe of a single score of years, I find you wanting and reject your passage!”
When I tried to continue, a wall of force smashed me down to my knees, and it became clear that I absolutely would not be bypassing this hurdle by forcing it. I glared at the red window. “Theres got to be fifty gods down here, there’s no way any one person could pass all the tests, right?”
“It is possible,” he intoned. “But yes, very difficult. That is why the Valley of Broken Gods has kept intruders out of the Acropolis for…hey, what are you doing? Stop that! Get back on the ground.”
I grinned at him as I rose, stretching expansively with an exaggerated yawn. “Thanks for that. I had a crick in my back. I’m good now.”
“Impossible!” he spat. “I just assessed you! You weren’t worthy! You should be unable to pass!”
Smirking, I stepped forward, hitting another wall as the green window flared. “Interesting,” said the second voice, the god Alraune apparently. “You have some means of bypassing the tests, but those means are manual and must be activated. Curious. How did you do it?”
“I have the strength of ten men because my heart is pure,” I answered sarcastically. “Now what’s your qualification?”
In reality, I had cheated. When he mentioned the qualification of being a lifelong warrior, it occurred to me that I HAD warriors in my court. I’d incarnated Abaddon, letting his entire life roll through my head, and it had allowed me to pass unhindered through the wall of force.
The green voice paused for a moment and then sighed. “Very well. I was Alraune, as my oafish brother already revealed, I was the god of insidious whispers. Secrets revealed in the dark and unmentionable deeds were my purview. But my true love, my most treasured pastime, was subversion. Not the secrets themselves, nor the whispers, but the extrication of that forbidden knowledge with guile and grace.”
Nodding, I let the power of Abaddon fade away as I called forth Belial. Sure enough, as soon as my first form manifested in my body, the wall of force faded, and I was able to pass easily forward.
The issue was that incarnation was not a casual act. I hadn’t allowed most of my court to dwell within my body, and there was a reason for that. Trying to process a whole other life, and more than that, two other lives counting Leviathan. After a slight pause, I triggered Piece of Mind, manifesting a parallel and putting it in charge of running the other selves. My main brain was immediately freed up from the quagmire, and I let out a sigh of relief as I stepped forward to stand in front of the next shrine.
Rather than bullrush through and get stopped, I just waited, and the yellow light behind the glazed glass pulsed warmly as a cheerful feminine voice all but sang. “Oh, hello! A visitor, how exciting. My name is Mara, goddess of, happiness, love and cherished kinship. Those who wish to pass through my trial must have strong and enduring affection for others and prove their regard with word and deed.”
I frowned, not sure which demon to manifest, but before I could decide, the voice continued. “I see you are a caring and affectionate person, and you are welcome to pass. Be safe along your journey, and please feel free to come by again and visit. It does get a bit monotonous down here.”
“Thanks,” I said slowly. “I just…pass? Like I’m allowed through right away? No hoops?”
“I’m not sure what a hoop is,” she said happily. “But it sounds delicious. And yes, you’re free to pass. You’re a wonderful person, from what I can tell, and I wish you luck and wisdom on your journey.”
“Well, thank you,” I said lamely. “That’s very nice. I was expecting more pushback on that.”
I nodded gratefully to the shrine and then moved on, approaching the next shrine, a sky blue glow flickering behind the window. “Halt,” intoned a gravelly voice. “You stand before the great got Durrus, lord of earth and stone, master of stoic protection. Only staunch defenders may pass my trial, those who remain implacable against unrelenting force.”
This time I did hit the wall, and I admitted that was fair. Luckily I had this covered. Mornax made an appearance, and the life of my most durable defensive form was an easy pass for Durras’s trial.
I couldn’t help but feel a little in awe of Atlas’s security features on this place. I assumed there was some kind of back way or alternate route to get in since there was no way having twenty legendary heroes on hand to get you past this every time was sustainable, but this was SO perfectly suited to me that it blew my mind.
Had he foreseen I’d be here? Had he influenced my choices to make this happen? Was it just a crazy coincidence like so many things involving gods? Was it somehow all three of those things? I genuinely had no idea, but I completely understood why I would be the one who needed to come to this place to access whatever plans he’d left behind. The only way through this place if you weren’t ME was a huge team of incredibly specific people with very focused personalities.
The next shrine was a bit more ominous. Darkness. Not like an absence of light, but like tangible black energy clinging to the inside of the window. The voice that spoke this time was dull and distant, like the whisper of dead leaves over a cold grave. “Mortal,” it whispered. “What is it you seek?”
“I mean…this is a hallway,” I pointed out. “And I’m already partway down it. I’m not sure how much clearer I could make my intentions.”
The voice laughed darkly. “That isn’t what I asked. I asked what you SEEK. What is your deepest desire?” I frowned at that. It sounded…familiar. I stepped forward, and the voice spoke up. “You never ans-hm?” It stopped, trailing off. “I sense the power of the wish. You are worthy to pass. How interesting. Your divine blood, from whence does it come?”
“My ancestor is Alistair Wyndham,” I said without bothering to conceal anything. Either this thing wasn’t a problem or it WAS and I didn’t want to piss it off. “They call him the Wishmaster.”
“A boastful moniker,” it sneered. “Ill suited to a creature of subtlety.”
I shrugged. “Not sure I’d call him that. Guessing you don’t know him. Was wondering if you were like…my grandcestor or something.”
“Your blood smells of familiar power,” it said slowly. “Child, know this. You stand before the last remnants of Rylant, god of poison desire. Should you wish to explore your gifts, to understand the heights to which the power of the wish can be polished, return to this place. Your bloodline is novel, but its might pales in comparison to the true force that can be unleashed by the desires of the heart.”
That should have been an interesting concept, and I might have been tempted, but before I could respond, I got…almost a premonition. A flash of insight so strong that it nearly drove me to the ground.
Rylant’s wish power was fundamentally opposed to my nature. The god of poisoned desire stood as the antithesis to my ancestor’s concept of the wish. Fairness, balance, technical perfection. The principal that both parties benefit and making those benefits more than the sum of their parts.
My ancestor was kind of a dick, but he was a FAIR dick. He did his best to remain impartial and to give people what they wanted, as long as he got something out of it. Rylant was different. Rylant was like those genies from the old stories. His entire purpose was to twist and subvert the desires of others, to use their wishes for his own ends. He was closer to someone like my dad than the old man.
“I’ll keep it in mind,” I said slowly. I wouldn’t, not personally, but I wasn’t against letting my dad know about this place and this particular god. I suspected he could use the information for something, and if he could, that meant I could extract payment from HIM, which had already come in handy a few times. His more flexible wishes had helped me out of a couple jams.
Rylant went silent, no longer deigning to speak to me now that he’d said his piece, and I moved onto the next shrine. One by one, I passed through them, using the incarnations to bypass each individual requirement, until finally, after one or two dozen of the damned things, I emerged from the crevice, from the Valley of Broken Gods, into a massive…place.
I didn’t have words to describe the hollow in the ring of mountains, its sheer size beggaring my imagination, but I DID recognize some of the smaller mountains inside the ring. The corpses of gods. I sighed as I glanced around. Now what the hell was I supposed to do NEXT? Then I paused. Actually, I didn’t need to figure that out. I had access to a primary source. Time to contact Callie and have her wake up her old man. I had some questions for Adam Atlas, and I wasn’t going to be ignored this time.
Comments
Peter Smith
I don't think they are actually trapped. They are conscious enough to talk which means that they could easily convince people to take them. However note as well that each one that has been mentioned has some form of guardian or sedentary aspect. Which means that they are the gods conpletely okay with sitting in place for millenia on end with little to no interaction. Just at peace with their existence. Which makes sense because part of becoming a god is breaking the final mortal shackle which has been stated to be the shackle of self. Where they no longer see their direct selves as the sole aspect of their souls.
Redeyes Eclipse
Those fragments could they be set free being trap somewhere for however long is cruel
