Chapter 81: 82. Beholder Carpalis

Beholders were better known as Gods to all in Elysia. They were the highest order of the Deities of the Nexus. Beings of unprecedented power that had never known defeat until the loss of Paradise.

Scriptures, cults, and theocracies were created all around the world in homage to these beings that resided high in the celestial heavens. But they paled in comparison to the Ateliers that a Beholder commanded.

Ancient tales and history etched into stone and written in blood went as far back as the initial rise of the first Advent. They were not primordial beings, but their sheer age far surpassed that of all sapient races in Elysia.

Where Elves, Demons and Dragonkin could live upwards of hundreds of years; they were still a prisoner to time.

The Beholders on the other hand were free from its ebbs and traditional biological restraints, as evidence by Carpalis’ hair which had essentially become her right hand, and her age which sat at a staggering 200 years.

She appeared perpetually within her… 30s? Frost could not tell.

Fathoming how one even managed to preserve their mind after so long was frankly impossible for Frost to comprehend. The one month she spent in the Black Forest had desensitized a major part of her mind; that being the disgust she once possessed towards devouring creatures and their innards.

If she spent a year, never mind 200 years trapped in the Black Forest then there was no telling what sort of depravities she would have warmed up to. The mind was a fragile thing, and while Frost was confident in her willpower, she was woefully aware that she was not mentally invincible.

The uncanny Beholder stood idly by Magus’ side like a personal guard, swaying like a tall reed in the wind. The fingers by her waist were almost embedded into her body and proved to be the woman’s major characteristic… aside from her creepy manner of speech and drained smiles.

“… scary eyes… I’m sorry if my jokes are unfunny.” Carpalis apologized, her tall ear-like horns drooping forwards. “Communication is difficult… and tiring. Delegating is easier. Contracting… making deals.”

Carpalis mustered every ounce of strength to smile under her intense gaze. Frost’s blood was perpetually set alight under the presence of one of the single-most powerful beings in Elysia.

The same beings who controlled the Ateliers, and the ones that abandoned countless to the whims of the world. Her prejudice against them was immense, and even though she was well-acquainted with the Archetype of Hope, Frost could not bring herself to trust this person immediately.

No, never mind trust. Given that she could not assess their stats, she had to assume that this Beholder was as powerful as herself. The greatest mistake she could possibly make was underestimating the might of a Beholder.

Frost did not speak. The words were stillborn, stuck in her throat as Magus cleared his throat, prompting Carpalis to raise a single finger.

“My manners are out of date. I’m sorry… Introductions must be underway. That’s the standard for every budding relationship. My name is Carpalis. The Golden Hand. I would shake yours but as you can see…” She looked down at her missing arm again, tiredly grinning at herself. “Hehe… How lucky of you to receive a Golden Ticket. They tend to find the right person. People call it fate, but I call it an extension of my hand… please don’t bite it… Archetype of Amalgamation.”

“The Amalgam. Please call me the Amalgam, or Frost if possible. You sound like you know something about me.” Frost spoke with edge, raising her guard to the maximum level as she studied every little finite movement, down to each strand of the woman’s hair.

“A teeny, tiny bit. The Arbiter made it their mission to find you after all…At the expense of my… sanity, sleep and a good 20 of my Exalted personnel.” She said, brushing a hand against the golden claw. “… Magus… Do I look tasty? I feel like your Archetype business partner wants to eat me. I promise I only taste like apple perfume and cyanide. I am not… a sweet forbidden apple.”

The woman then nibbled on one of her fingers, as if to prove her point.

“Mm… I do have an acrid taste… hehe.”

“As you can so clearly see she is of a healthy state of mind, and therefore warrants our highest form of trust!” Magus announced, sliding the fourth card in the center, revealing the Devil. “But would you personally make a deal with a devil? Between you and the great I – I should warn you in advance to not shake her hand.” He spoke as if conducting an aside, speaking as if Carpalis couldn’t hear every single word at all.

The entire space was suddenly halfway split between a zone of light and darkness. They were plunged within its twilight, a gray area whether it was neither bright nor dark. Silence consumed them for the longest few seconds of Frost’s life as she desperately tried to read the face of this enigmatic being.

“Haha… ha… don’t bargain with a Demon. And don’t try to cheat one either. It always ends terribly wrong. As so the stories of the Library went… My hope brings you all the way up here, and snip, you fall so low into the dark that your ups and downs become skewed.” Carpalis rambled, looking down as she said up, and up as she said down, illustrating her ‘perfectly healthy state of mind’. “That is if you break my contract.”

“You mean your technology?” Frost spoke.

“Technology it is. Demons aren’t known for making deals. They’re… perpetually convinced of the futility of existence. The absolution of corporeality, and the meager insignificance of the mind… as you can tell, I didn’t get along with them… because I’m all head empty.” She rocked left and right, knocking on her head which, to Frost’s shock, echoed hollowly.

She had to wonder what the point of this conversation was. To ease her heart? To warm her up to Carpalis? To present as much transparency as possible? That she was different from other Demons? Not that Frost knew what they were like to begin with.

In the end, her mind could not retain one specific suspicion, and therefore left her in a convoluted mess that only caused her guard to heighten. She scrutinized every minute detail possible and consulted with Nav in short, awkward pauses of silence.

Nav. She’s strong despite how she looks. I can’t even gauge her HP.

“Unbelievably so. She is one of the few beings capable of taking on Apocalypse-classed Corrupted. But…”

Hm? But what? You trailed off. What’s wrong?

“Frost… you may not believe this, but I can communicate with this Beholder. She reiterates that she’s not tasty at all.”

Frost blankly blinked, straining her eyes momentarily as Carpalis happily nodded when her death-stare finally broke. And with only one phrase, the weight of Frost’s suspicions was instantly alleviated from the woman’s shoulders.

“The Blessing of the Magician... you recognize it. Beholder Galia was given the Blessing of the Arbiter. Funnily enough… hehe… it was only the most normal of the Beholders who became acquainted with an Archetype.”

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“Normal?” Frost inadvertently said aloud. “… sorry, normal? In what way? The fact that you’re not secluded up in the Nexus like the other Beholders?”

“Partially. But more so that I am not characterized by my obsession. My technology. My aspirations. You can tell I have a firm grip on myself… Haha. Ha.” She tapped on the golden hand that painfully clutched at her waist. “But I am close to strangling myself… as usual. Unlike Beholder E of Inflow Direct. Haha… well, what’s left of the poor man.”

Carpalis then carefully walked over to the side of the table. Her presence easily dwarfed both Frost and Magus combined. The air itself parted ways in the wake of her movements, and her creepy yet astoundingly refined strides oozed with undebatable divinity.

Quite ironic for a Demon.

Then, the woman suddenly lowered herself enough to peer beneath the poker table.

 “… you’re not normal yourself either. What a masculine way of sitting and conduct… cute.” Carpalis uttered before erecting herself upright again.

“It’s more comfortable like this. I’m not wearing anything skimpy so it’s fine. What does it matter?” Frost said defensively, sighing right afterwards.

“No… but I find it funny. And oddly endearing… Have you warmed up to me yet…?”

Frost’s brows furrowed. She swallowed the Beholder in her gaze again, pinning her under immense scrutiny as Frost moved to nip the bud of this woman’s intentions.

“… what do you want? Surely there’s something you want from me other than my trust.” She spoke hypercritically, offering no avenue for this woman to weave herself out of.

“But of course! There is no trust without wants and needs! The necessity of both sides is what creates true trust!” Magus rose from his seat, lifting his diamond-encrusted cane and pointing it towards Frost, and then to Carpalis. “Like how we both seek to Awaken for instance! Madam Capralis! Do let her know of your intentions!”

“I was getting to it slowly. I just didn’t want to die… like all 20 of my Exalted personnel to the Arbiter. Her eyes are scary… Frost… Frost. What a cool name. Hehe… Sorry. Flattery doesn’t work on you. I just wanted to see you smile. Smile?” The Beholder spread her cheeks wide, attempting to garner a response from Frost.

Feeling a little pitiful for the woman now that she resorted to begging, Frost finally broke into a small smile just for her. Carpalis’ black and golden eyes instantly lit up as if savoring it.

“I do adore a good laugh. A smile… Frost. What I seek is a connection. A relationship. My power woes at the strength of your soul. It is the same with my Archetype.” Carpalis revealed as Frost’s feathers ruffled to this truth.

“’My’? See how delightful she can become!?” Magus exclaimed as if trying to sell Carpalis to her like a product. “It’s precisely how I was discovered. My soul was exquisite! impregnable! Unbreakable like the crowned diamond jewel amongst the gems that are the wonderful people of this world!”

Carpalis’ horn-ears flickered up and down, as if nodding in agreement with each word that left Magus’ invisible lips. The two, despite their near polarizing differences in appearance and personality, were incredible in tune, like two peas in a pod.

“But – we are only gems at heart. Diamonds in the rough. The remainder is all but a coarse coal. Awakening is akin to realizing this potential. Becoming us in the truest sense, one that is not stifled and corroded with impurities, or degraded like whatever those Corrupted are.” Magus nearly danced as the final and fifth card revealed itself as Temperance, a card symbolizing one’s true meaning.

And at once – countless playing cards began to rain from the golden heavens above, showering them in its exalted light like shooting stars. There was an odd emotion amid this beautiful storm. A small wave of melancholy hit her when her eyes fell onto the Beholder who could only gaze up longingly at them.

When she reached out a hand and tried to touch one of these cards it merely phased through. The mood sharply shifted. It darkened suddenly as an incomprehensible lyre of sadness played while these cards fell.

“Stars are never meant to be touched. Yet we chase them… do you believe that is true hope? Or a guise like the overhead glow of our cities? I know an Angel that strayed too close to a star and lost their wings. I know of the healers that sought hope and had their principles nipped. I know of the common man that sought to cherish life become twisted by greed.” The world visually thumped as she spoke, as if she commanded the very strands of existence itself.

“The promise of a happy thereafter at the cost of others? How can true hope exist when it presents itself as the source of another’s despair?” Carpalis’ voice changed, carrying the wisdom of countless unspeakable experiences she possessed.

The creepiness was no longer present. Frost could only see a woman struggling to hold onto what was left of herself. The woman seemingly grinned as if sensing this inadvertent pun, gliding over to Frost’s side ever so carefully. She presented her palm as if to show that she meant no harm.

Then, Carpalis spoke again with an agonized voice.

“Frost, perhaps we got off on the wrong foot… so I shall start over again.”

With a small bow and a strange clacking sound from her metallic hand – She then reintroduced herself with a presence that demanded every ounce of her body’s attention.

“I am Beholder Carpalis, the Golden Hand and the founder of the Golden Index. This is the Faustian Bargain; my hand creates the Golden Tickets. My technology was founded by an interesting, otherworldly tale named Doctor Faustus. The stronger one’s contract is with my power, the more bounded they become to my commands… I am a tamer in a sense.”

The eloquence in her voice was jarring. Confusing and it failed to fit the image of this gloomy Beholder. It felt as though these words were spoken by someone else. But in Frost’s heart she knew that this was perhaps the woman’s true voice.

“What I yearn is uniform happiness in this dark, dark world. Hehe. That’s why I like gold. And bright lights… so long as it’s not right after I awaken. Currency is the equalizer of all languages… Ahaha. Strength. Linguistics… they stimulate little greed. But violence? That is the language that trumps all. I hope that isn’t yours… I’m sorry. Please don’t glare at me… don’t be so cold, Frost. Ahaha… sorry.”

This was Beholder Carpalis. And suffice to say, she was wildly different than what Frost could have ever envisioned.

To also think that she was considered one of the normal ones as well…