Paths of Creation

17 Years Ago

Akasha had his eyes closed as he sank into his thoughts. He had never cared for a baby before; he had no experience. He thought about asking Velgrynd and Velzard for help, but they didn't want to see Milim.

They were upset to learn that their brother had lost his powers and become human because of a baby who died at the hands of an ordinary human. The anger was so great that it became a taboo for the remaining true dragons to have children.

After several hours, Akasha opened his eyes upon hearing Milim's cries. "Velda... you've left me quite the task," Akasha sighed heavily, although a small smile lingered on his lips.

Making a decision, he got up and walked to his room. He opened the door and approached a pink crib. Inside lay Milim, crying and squirming.

Akasha crouched down and picked her up, making Milim stop crying, look at him blankly, and start playing with his hair, drooling in the process. Akasha wisely chose to ignore it and took her outside to prepare her food.

He mixed the bottle and sat on the couch, cradling Milim in his left arm. "Now, you're going to eat and then go to sleep. Understand?" he asked Akasha while looking at her.

Little Milim blinked, staring at the bottle in Akasha's hand, and nodded, surprising him. "You... forget it, take it," he said, handing her the bottle as she began to drink.

Half an hour later, Milim had fallen asleep while nursing. Akasha placed her back in her crib and tucked her in before stepping out and closing the door behind him.

He arrived in the living room and sat on the couch, closing his eyes while clearing his mind. Soon, he found himself in another place.

Absolute emptiness. That's how he felt returning to this place. A space that held nothing but had the potential for everything. Meanings and concepts had no place here; calling it "nothing" would be degrading.

But Akasha was this; all of this was Akasha, and he felt at peace. He relaxed and searched for what he wanted. He found it instantly, and his life flashed before his eyes in a second. Finding what he sought, Akasha nodded with a smile.

"Initiating manifestation of existence... creating vessel of existence... soul created."

Akasha opened his eyes, returning to the living room of his home. With a gesture of his hand, a purple sphere of light appeared before him. He looked at the soul with a smile.

"Voice of the World, construct a body for this soul," Akasha said to the void. Immediately, the Voice of the World responded.

«Request granted. The creation of the body and evolution of the individual: Scáthach will begin shortly.»

«Initiating process... process failed, insufficient energy.»

Akasha did not flinch, and in his hand appeared a dazzling golden chalice. "Use this; it should suffice," Akasha said.

«Analyzing... Holy Grail. Can be used as a substitute for energy.»

"Use it," Akasha declared. With that, the white core dispersed into particles and flowed into the purple soul.

«Confirmed. Initiating process... it has been detected that the individual: Scáthach possesses attributes that do not correspond to any existing racial classification. Analyzing... data analysis complete. A new life form has been identified that does not fit within existing classifications. Creation of a new racial classification is recommended: Divine Spirit.»

«Initiating acquisition of intrinsic abilities; Immortality, Magical Manipulation, Multi-layer Barrier, Universal Detection, Spatial Movement. Acquiring resistances... completed. Pain Nullification, Physical Attack Nullification, Resistance to Spiritual Attacks acquired.»

«Adapting abilities. The skill God Slayer evolved into the unique skill [God Slayer]. The skill Wisdom of Dún Scáith evolved into the unique skill [Wisdom of Dún Scáith].»

When the evolution finished, before Akasha stood a beautiful woman in a long purple battle outfit with long purple hair cascading down her back. Akasha caught her before she could fall to the ground and took her to one of the rooms; he would wait for her to wake up.

---

The Next Day

Scáthach opened her eyes. Immediately, a blood-red spear appeared in her hand, disappearing and reappearing in the center of the room. She scanned the area and, despite feeling no danger, remained on guard.

She stepped through the door and walked down the hallway, her steps light yet firm, her face serene despite the myriad ways of killing the person who had sent her here racing through her mind.

After walking a few meters, she arrived at what she assumed was the living room of this place, where a baby no more than four months old giggled while watching cartoons.

Ignoring the baby, Scáthach looked toward the source of the food aroma. There sat a man with a somewhat androgynous appearance, at least twenty-five years old, with white hair tied in a high ponytail and a simple black tunic covering his body, looking at her with emotionless blue eyes.

"Finally awake. Good, set the glasses on the table," the man said, averting his gaze from her as he prepared the food.

Scáthach didn't know how to react for a moment; she stared at the man who dared to speak to her like that, she who had killed men and gods alike throughout her life. But her curiosity won out, and she did as the man requested.

When the man served the food, he went to the baby and sat her on his lap while a glass of milk appeared in his hand, which he handed to her.

Scáthach watched as the baby happily drank the milk while she heard the rhythm of the man's fingers.

"Please, have a seat. Ask me anything, and I will answer you," the man said, joining his hands in front of his chest.

Scáthach looked at him, feeling insecure about the confidence radiating from the man, but still sat in a manner only a queen would.

"Who are you? Where am I, and why did you bring me from the Shadow Realm?" she asked, staring intently into the man's eyes, searching for any hint of anything.

The man didn't reply for a moment as he organized his words.

"The Root records everything, not like a library where you store data or information. It records your existence. It does not distinguish between your future or past self, from timeline 1 or 560; you do not exist as a soul, you are simply 'you' in your purest form."

The man paused for a moment and continued. "I simply manifested you and placed you in a vessel, what they call a soul; then I brought you to this world," he finished speaking as he took a sip of his coffee.

Scáthach said nothing, but she knew what the man was talking about. She was connected to the Root like all the gods in the Age of Gods. But she was still surprised by the last thing he said.

'Did he really pull me from the Root?' That thought was the only thing that truly surprised Scáthach.

Finally, with no other option but to accept his explanation, she nodded, feeling somewhat more relaxed. "Alright, but tell me, what world is this? The magical density here is the same as in the Age of Gods."

The man smiled, and between his fingers, a golden light formed that shot toward Scáthach's forehead at a speed she couldn't react to.

Immediately, Scáthach felt memories being implanted in her mind, from the structure of the world to its realms and culture. Although the amount of information was nothing for her brain, she still glared at the man, annoyed.

The man shrugged. "That saves me an hour of explanation. Lastly, call me Akasha; that's what everyone calls me," he finished casually, while picking up the baby who had fallen asleep while eating.

He stood up and began to walk when he heard Scáthach's voice behind him.

"Akasha?... you... you... are the Root..." Her voice, no more than a mere whisper, reached Akasha's ears, causing him to sigh and continue on his way.