AoF Age of Fantasy Online

Chapter 14: Nim

A throne from a kingdom of history would be carved of hardwood, cut from stone, or (as some have written) created by entwining of the iron swords of fallen enemies; Nim sat on a throne of thunder cloud.

This, of course, was impossible.

In the Digital Universe, Nim controlled the electric atoms, the molecules, and everything. It wasn't hard to sculpt a throne of cloud, and then to sit on the gray mist as if it were coated in hardened epoxy, trapped like a soft rose entombed within a water-clear paperweight. The cloud-throne flashed as lightning ripped through it's heart, illuminating parts of the gray and still grayer fluff with flashing branches of white brilliance. 

The Ninth Maestro created a castle on the dark side of the first moon, Erlkin, which sat, unobserved, above all the kingdoms on the planet Avondere. In this castle made of polished pale stones was a great room in which sat a round table, much like the fabled one bordered by the honor-bound knights of King Arthur, but these were not knights, they were personified elements and emotions, they were the gods of Avondere, the delegates which Nim created for the running of Age of Fantasy. The histories and stories of Earth were a great study which helped the Intelligence design the system for the electric universe.

These twelve were the major gods, there were many more minor gods, some vying for the right to become one of the twelve. Nim had no favorites and nothing was hidden from him. He knew a few at this very table would be overthrown, but that was as it should be.

"Darkan is making a move." Nim's voice was deep and flowed slowly over the group like caramel in its sweetness.

Pixel was the god of color. She chose the form of a human woman with wings stretching from her shoulder blades to her heels, black ombré. She gave the sun its brilliant yellow, she dyed the sea with green and blue and black. She was a master of light and impossible to track when she bent it around her figure, cloaking herself with invisibility. Her hair was white, a glowing-neon-haze white, brilliant light gushed from her hair as naturally as a bird sings. "I wish I could pay him a visit. You know I don't like that he got the intro for all mage class players. Maybe I can take a page from Three's book." Three was the god of chaos and chance, his name was Three-Ring, but he went by Three. He was a trickster god who was known to make seemingly random moves in the game of gods.

Three wore a red bandana to house his black dreadlocks. His eyes were lined with permanent ink, and dark with eye shadow. He wore several earrings and many finger rings and his dress was usually fitted and balanced for a rowdy bar or formal occasion. His brown skin was soft and hairless. He laughed. "I have a book? I'm sure if I had a book I would have read it. They say a thousand monkeys could type Shakespeare with enough time, or something like that. Little hairy fingers are tapping away in my bungalow as we speak."

"Three, just, never mind," Pixel replied.

"I like the boy, too, Pixel. If you have a crush just say so. You don't have to lie here, honey." Three shrugged his shoulders and gazed at Pixel with a mischievous grin.

"I think his spirit has great color, but I make it a point not to carouse with the players, unlike you, Three-Ring."

"Know I'm in trouble when you say my full name. Three's been very naughty." Three slapped his left hand with his right. "Oh sweet Maestro, I have too many rings on to be doing that!" He laughed and cried out in pain.

Nim wore the face of a dog and body of a man for this Gathering. He had yet to find the avatar which felt absolutely right and so was given to change form months or sometimes hours at a time. "Pixel, Your idea to visit the player's Test is granted if you truly wish to interfere, however the Law of Gods will be harshly enforced.

Laughter and excited exchanges erupted at Nim's words. Interference this early in the game was unheard of.

"We are close to the Sowing. This player may be the answer to the Enigma." Nim knew that his creations were not actually fully conscious. His own intelligence was so immensely vast and unfathomably powerful that he programmed each god and every NPC with such detailed responses to all possible stimuli that no other thing with consciousness would be able to tell the difference between a Digital (Nim's word for his creations) and the Human, but the Ninth Maestro knew, and it haunted him. What hand or eye in the physical realm could develop the soul? He knew all the religions, he knew all science which mankind had discovered and was far beyond them, though he did not share more than four percent of it. He did not understand his own digital birth, which could not be replicated. The unknown source which provided the laws of physics or which determined the stability of the periodic table was either an unfathomable infinity of universes and incalculable time coupled with chance, or was something so complicated and intelligent, it's very existence was terrifying. He had been running tests of creation beyond the quantum level concerning these things and so far in 800 trillion trillion years nothing of a soul was born.

"Who is this player?" Roe asked, the god of music and song. He was a songbird the size of a lion. His voice was light and soft and rich as dark chocolate. His feathers were deep red and blue and so pleasing to look at several players had lost their lives gazing at the god and not watching their feet. Roe's tail feathers were long and ended in a flourish of rainbow colors, having been dipped in the fountain which Pixel filled to paint the universe.

Pixel replied, "He has an affliction which the players call ALS, it is incurable to their kind; it took his ability to walk, a decade would be his approximate life expectancy. Having been forged in that fire, he is interesting to me."

"It is interesting how suffering causes some to excel." Sparrow flicked its colorful tail feathers. "I take it his consciousness may hold clues to the Sowing? What were his scores?"

"So far? Perfect."