"Personally I like a little less bureaucracy than that in my life, but you do you. Am I going to have to learn about local politics?" she wonders. "I bet I'm going to have to learn about local politics."

Esther considers Alice for a moment, and her eyes widen slightly. "You are an interesting woman... April. I would share a drink with you, if you care to, somewhere more private. I have not the time for a more involved liaison at the moment, bureaucracy being what it is, but I can spare the time for a coffee."

"Sure, I'll take a coffee."

It's surprisingly easy—maybe it shouldn't be so surprising—to hold herself with April's casual confidence, the confidence of someone who has been through some shit and is also in the process of making friends with the single most terrifying man in all of Barbarian Fairyland. She doesn't actually think he's in range to come rescue her—he never managed to reach April while she was with Sean, though that wasn't for very long—but she can still feel the shadow of his unadorned certainty settle around her shoulders like a mantle, if she thinks about it the right way. The thing to remember, he'd tell her, is that your will is yours, not anybody else's. They can't take it unless you give it to them. So don't.

Simpler when you're older than the written word and have been a nearly unbeatable warrior for most of that time, she suspects. But it's a comforting memory to keep in mind. Even though he's not here, she knows that if he was, he'd have her back.

Esther takes her into a small coffee shop, orders them a couple of drinks - "My treat," she says like someone enjoying a private joke - and sits them down in a booth.

Then she says "From my tongue and to your ears; no one listening shall hear."

Then she says, "First things first: I swear before my grandsire Solomon David, bearer of the word Diamond and god of the seven-part world, that I will not deliberately lie to you while in this café. If I knowingly break this oath, so will he break my neck."

"...damn," she says, visibly impressed. "All right."

Esther shrugs. "I felt that a show of faith was called for. That being said... you are not an emissary. None of the demiurges would send someone so ill-informed to Throne with a star on her brow. Except Incubus, but you are not one of his. That means you are either a very lucky thief, or something new. And I do not think you are a thief."

"I didn't steal this," she agrees with a vague wave at her forehead, "it just kinda happened to me. I don't have any convenient oaths to swear about it, though, unless you'll take 'in the name of someone you've never heard of who gets really ticked off about fraud'."

Esther waves a hand. "I do not need you to swear. I have one question, and in return I will answer as many of yours as you wish - and I can imagine you have many questions. I do not even really need you to tell me the truth, for I learn almost as much from a lie. My question is: whose key is it?"

"I don't actually know! The guy whose head I carried into the alley gave it to me. He didn't exactly say where he got it. Not super keen on explaining himself, that guy."

"Fascinating. Alright, I will answer your questions - any that do not betray a trust, at least. But you may learn of me anything that is common knowledge, or at least not a terrible secret."

She thinks for a second, and then asks, "What's an angel?"

"The secondborn of YISUN after the gods, permeated by the Cold White Flame of Order. A roiling nuclear furnace contained within stone. Each angel has a name, such as 69 Bloody Feather Vanquishes Darkness; the number is how many times he has been reincarnated, the phrase is a fragment of the Law of YISUN which he bears in his heart. This law grants the angels a bone-deep knowledge of all laws, and an equally fierce love for order and hierarchy. Also, a talent for certain celestial martial arts, which they have invariably honed beyond mortal comprehension over the kalpa of their existence."

"Sounds like a bunch of dickbags. Okay, what's a god?"

"We're in one. They were the first children of YISUN, born from the division of YIS and UN; they created the angels, the devils, and the Wheel that contains every world; and then, having created these wonders, they died, leaving their vast corpses behind. Divine carcasses form the substrate of the city of Throne."

"...devils?"

"Formed from the Hot Black Flame of Chaos, in diametric opposition to the angels. In their natural state, primal devils are mindless but powerful. A devil can be instantiated as an individual if someone names and masks it, giving it a personality, the capacity to form memories, and the ability to enter the physical world. A newly bound devil is blue; as they grow older and stronger, they will shed some of their given names and find names that suit them better, and go from blue to red to green to gold to black, with each stage changing their nature. Devils are unpredictable, untrustworthy, and dangerous - but they have their uses."

"I'm much more comfortable with chaos than order, personally. —you said 'the kalpa of their existence' earlier and I don't actually know that word."

"A kalpa is measured as 4.32 billion years. It's generally used as hyperbole. Sometimes it isn't."

"...that is too many years. How do you even keep being a person...? Okay, whatever. Local politics, common knowledge, go."

Esther raises her eyebrows. "This will take a bit. Let me prepare my exposition."

After a few seconds, she starts in on her exposition, conjuring illustrative illusions as she does so. "YISUN divides itself. The gods are born. Reality comes into being. The gods create angels, devils, humans, and sundry other races known collectively as servitors. These four categories are known collectively as inheritors. Then, the gods die, leaving the firstborn angels, the Primes, to guard Throne." She rotates her hands illustratively. "Pass a few kalpa. A human is born. His name is Zoss. He is a master of magic, and of dark science, and of the arts of war, and most importantly, he is royalty. True royalty. Through his science he recovers a fragment of the true name of YISUN; through his magic he wields it to breach the walls of Throne; through war he slays the Prime Angels; and because he is royalty, he drags the rest of the Name from Metatron's dying lips. He becomes the conquering King."

"With the firmament breached, it was not long before others came. They were the ultimate masters of their kind. Heroes, magi, poet-kings. They who inherited God's final works, and would seek to rule over them. They gathered in Throne, the dread masters of the universe, who sought ultimate hegemony. The Demiurges. And thus did the conquering King become the ruling King."

"The demiurges rebuilt the works of the gods, and bent them to their will. They forged bodies for the lesser angels. They bound the devils and stole their numinous secrets. For a time, they were content to live apart from all other worlds, a society of virtuous philosopher god-kings. They coaxed many secrets from the universe, and lived their days in enlightenment, art, and song. It was a fat age, ripe with learning. It was not to last."

"That is where your Key comes in."

"The Demiurges were warrior-kings at heart. They built themselves weapons - capable of ripping through reality and bringing them wherever they wished. And so they conquered, until they had conquered all that was. Heaven was already too crowded; soon the entire Wheel was not enough. At first they pretended their war was civilized, but then their singular hunger for dominion consumed them. They went mad. Worlds burned."

Esther shakes her head, dismissing her most recent (disturbing) illusion. "Anyway. The war for dominion had seven victors. The last of the Demiurges. Seven sovereigns, seven lords of infinity. They made a pact: the Pact of the Seven-Part World. To each, 111,111 realities."

She pauses to breathe. "Sorry, that was all backstory. The proper exposition begins now."

She raises her eyebrows slightly and makes a 'go on' gesture.

"First, I will betray my bias by telling you of my grandsire. Solomon David is ruler of the Celestial Empire. Everything there is as it should be. His worlds are united; his works are grand; nothing is unaccounted for in his laws. Every century, he holds a grand tournament, where all the greatest warriors of all the worlds gather to fight for glory and fabulous prizes. The greatest prize of all is single combat with Solomon David. If the champion can draw a single drop of blood from his body, my grandsire has promised them any reward they desire. Any. None have ever claimed it."

"Next there is Mother Nadia Om, his most... civilized... counterpart. Her empire is nearly as vast as his, and certainly far grander... at least, the parts that are meant to be. She sucks the life from each world as she passes over it in her floating citadel. Her minions descend, and they scavenge every resource, natural or living, until the earth is bare sand. In her citadel, and in her trade worlds, there is no such thing as want. In the worlds she drains, there is nothing else. On a more personal note, she is a sorceress of unfathomable power - it is difficult to leverage such a thing as magic on the scale of demiurges, but she does it."

"Mammon, the Hoarder. He was born to a race with no concept of personal property, but he was a mutant, endowed with a greed so potent that he slew his friends, family, and clan out of petty outrage and suspicion that they had stolen from him. Eventually he became so rich that he bought a Key of Kings from its then-holder, and hid away in his bank-fortress of Yre until the war had concluded. He takes little interest in the administration of his worlds, choosing instead to wallow in unthinkable wealth in his bank-tower. But do not think him powerless. He is a potent enemy, even if he is past his prime."

"Jadis was once a sorceress-queen on par with Mother Om, and one who had mastered the martial arts as well. But in her arrogance, she used her powers to gaze upon the infinite shape of reality, and it harrowed her so terribly that she was forced to entomb herself in glass to keep from fading into nothing. Now she desires death, but none will grant it to her. She whispers dire prophecies which are interpreted by her high priests, and she waits for the End."