The Primordial Record

Chapter 1902: A Game of Hunger

CRADLE OF ENOCH (63 Million Cosmic Eras in the past)

The gigantic body of Rowan, covered in red mortal blood and appearing as dry as a cadaver left out in the sun for years, collapsed into the cave. For a long time, he remained still, his chest not even rising or falling, and anyone who wandered inside would think he was a long-dead titan the size of a small moon.

For centuries, he could not move, until his heart went against all common sense and shuddered, a motion too small to be called a heartbeat, but it was the first sign of life that had emerged from Rowan for centuries, and on a day like every other one, a few more centuries in the future, his eyes slowly blinked open.

He groaned as he slowly dragged himself to a sitting position, and a few days went by as he made his way to his feet. He fell more than staggered towards his wooden throne that was now covered by dust. Only that movement nearly drove him back to the arms of oblivion.

“How long was I up there?” he whispered… Rowan could not tell anymore; there was no space in his consciousness to consider how long he had been up in the skies drawing all the lives slain from the beginning of time into himself.

His fingers twitched, and a large pool of cool water appeared above his head. And tilting his head back, Rowan opened his mouth and allowed the water to quench his thirst.

Sensing a disturbance not far from his head, he opened his eyes to see Enoch watching him. The first time Rowan had seen Enoch, he was in the form of a boy whose face was made from the void, and now, after all the years he had spent consuming Rowan’s mortal blood and poisoning him, he was a fully grown man.

The man now floating before him was fully grown, with short black hair, eyes, and lips. He had a short, stylish beard that, when set against his black lips, almost made it seem as if he was wearing a mask, and his resemblance was both distinct and yet familiar.

Rowan looked into his memory to find the source of that familiarity, and when he discovered it, he was startled. The face was one that he had not seen for so long, and he wondered how he could have ever forgotten him.

As a mortal prince of Trion, one of his subjects that was swept alongside the chaos of Rowan’s existence was a young boy and his family, Regolf. He had only seen Regolf as a boy, and then as the Champion of the Abomination, Lamia.

Regolf had taken his place as the Champion of Lamia after Rowan escaped her clutch, and he later met him again, but this time, the Champion of Lamia had broken free of his chains and was his own creature. After this time, Regolf had chosen to follow him for a while, and when he asked for his freedom and wished not to be monitored, Rowan granted him that request. After all, Rowan saw Regolf as his subject, and after all the suffering he had endured as an Abomination Champion, he deserved the chance to plot his own future.

Rowan had not seen him ever since. Perhaps he was dead, or was living the life he chose in the depths of Eosah’s reality. Rowan did not know about it, and he was surprised that in all the faces he expected to see here, it was his own.

Spending so much time here with Enoch had shown him that he could not trust what he saw; the being was a shapeshifter, and his ability to take any form was unparalleled. He was connecting with Rowan on a deep level every time he consumed his mortal’s blood, and this face was most likely selected from Rowan’s memory.

Still, it was disturbing to consider that Enoch was looking through his memories, but that was not too strange when you consider that all of his life had always been under the microscope, and entities like Enoch saw the dimension of memory as easily as a mortal sees light in the visual spectrum.

When Rowan was weakened, there was no way to hide his memories from Enoch, and the only reason he was not more panicked at this act was because of an important distinction: Enoch could read his memories but not his thoughts… those were private to him.

A mortal might not be able to separate their thoughts from memories, but they could not freely explore the dimension of memory as easily as Rowan and other higher-dimensional immortals. Enoch might see his memories, but to him, it would be like watching a movie, without the thoughts flowing through Rowan’s head or any of the other parties inside his memory; Enoch would lack the needed context to take apart these memories completely.

All of these were the standard defenses inside a mind as complicated and powerful as Rowan’s, but that was not enough, not when it came to entities the likes of Enoch. From the moment he set foot in this weird realm and saw the boy, Rowan had understood that he might be in a situation that was nearly impossible for him to control, and for that reason, he began to edit his memories.

Stripping away the core portions of his secrets, Rowan tied them directly to his lifeforce, which meant he could access them anytime he wanted. However, they were not located in his spirit, soul, or body, and if he were to perish, the memories would vanish with him.

He learned to do this by watching butterflies.

Rowan could not be tortured or compelled to do something against his Will, but his enemies might be able to get to his secrets if he were killed, and for this reason, Rowan created this technique. There were parts of his secrets that he was going to take to the grave, and no one, not even those closest to him, would ever know them… the creation of this technique assured him of this.

“You would want to know… if this face is my own, or something I picked from your blood,” Enoch smiled, “That and more I can bring to the table, an equal exchange between you and me.”

Rowan blinked, “You would do this? I thought you were going to watch me kill myself?”

Enoch smiled, “At this point, we all know the truth… the next time you enter the desert, you shall perish. What is the use for this, Rowan? Well, it matters not, because I still win in the end, because I get to eat more of you, and trust me, in my long life, you are among the best food I have ever tasted.”

A feeble laugh like a dying wheeze escaped from Rowan’s throat, “If I could, Enoch, you would see me rolling my eyes in amusement. Have you not seen it yet, my ability to last longer outside this cave?”

“What of it?” Enoch snorted, “Sure, you remained outside for sixteen billion years, but that only gave me such a prodigious amount of your mortal’s blood that it could flood an entire dimension. You will last longer the next time around, maybe trillions of years, but it would be your last.”

“Don’t be so sure about that,” Rowan said, trying not to be surprised at the long number of years he had spent outside this time, “After all, I have the best chance of success here with me.”

Enoch frowned, “And that would be?”

“You,” Rowan chuckled dryly, “Your poison inside my body that fills it up. You know, Enoch, I am surprised I’ve been able to last for so long… You have access to my memories, and you know that no technique, not even one perfected by me, can give me such strength and endurance… the only factor aiding me is your poison in my vein. Every layer I climb, I do not eradicate your poison; I make it a part of my strength. So, Enoch, this might not go the way you want it to… You are eating me, that is true enough, but I am also eating you.”

Rowan settled back in his wooden throne and began to run the seventeenth level of the nameless techniques inside his consciousness in preparation for entering the next level. What he said was a mix of truth and subterfuge. Of course, it was true that Rowan converted the poison left behind by Enoch every time he consumed his blood to become a part of his strength, but if he had spent so much time outside the cave, then this was not enough.

He knew that Enoch did not lie to him about this number because of the greater flow of time now available inside this cave, which had grown by two thousand years, which would roughly coincide with the time that could be allocated to him when he was outside of it.

But there was another important part that gave him strength, and that was the invisible fire burning inside his chest.