“Again.”
The Provider sat behind Wilheim in a tastefully ornate chair, a walking stick in its hands, across the two arms of the chair. Wilheim continued throwing punch after punch at the godly wood, (Arboridium), gritting his teeth through the bouts of pain that came with each strike. 20 strikes per set. That was the goal that The Provider had issued. Any more and Wilheim risked permanent damage to his hands, since Arboridium was so magic based and dense. The only rule? Each strike had to be harder than the last in the set, making each blow hurt even more. But despite the pain, each one would eventually start hurting less. And then Wilheim would move forward and start hitting for more sets, and train his strength, and gradually, his power would grow. It was a slow, slow process. But he’d come far from punching ordinary trees. He progressed out of that after two years, when he’d put his fist right through a 150 year old oak. It took him 5 years to move past rocks, starting with softer slate, and then moving towards granite, basalt, and even some specially sourced bedrock, which took a further 3 years, every day, non stop training. Still though. For an unbreakable material, it sure took some effort, but eventually it splintered and shattered around his fist. From then, The Provider decided that he was ready to take on Arboridium. For the past 18 years, he’d been hitting this forsaken wood every chance he got, enhancing his strength, durability and resilience, all under the watchful eyes of The Provider.
The final hit shuddered the post he was hitting, his hand fitting perfectly into the imprint that had been made from the nearly two decades of hitting it. The Provider rose. Even without its hat, its face was still shrouded in shadow, only the glinting golden eyes hinting at real features. “You’re doing well.” It said, its voice rebounding around the gym-like room. Without turning, Wilheim walked over to his towel, hung over the back of a different chair, and wiped the sweat from his brow. His toned arms ached, and the rivulets of sweat ran down his muscles. “The valley has been interesting for me.” Without turning around, he could sense The Provider raise an eyebrow. “Tell me more about that.”
Wilheim blinked and suddenly he was sat down across from The Provider, who was wearing a different hat now. It was as if Wilheim had taken a shower, changed clothes, and had a 2 hour beauty process in not even a tenth of a second. This was still something he was getting used to. “Well, I’m sure you’ve noticed, I have a son now.” Wilheim began. “Strawberry, a Sniffer egg.” The Provider nodded. “Yes, despite my request to avoid becoming close with individuals. No matter. Continue.” “I’ve become friends with many people. Ghostzone, Gale, Dill, Matern… Ulysses.” He went on. “They’re all interesting characters.” “Any enemies?” It questioned, and stood, pacing around the small, velvet-walled, dark room. “One or two. A guy called Swamp, and his husband, Gummy.” Wilheim revealed. The Provider turned to look at him sharply. “Gummy? Of rot and infestation?” Wilheim chuckled. “Yeah, that sounds like him.” It looked at the ground, and then back up. “Keep your distance as best as you can. I can’t protect you from him.” Wilheim frowned, but moved on with his story. “I started taming dinosaurs, and I have a pet Infernal pumpkin named Lewis.” The Provider nodded. “Oh- I downed three children a while ago in order to teach them a lesson, of not starting fights that you can’t win.” This got a laugh from The Provider. “I’m sure the parents weren’t happy with that.” It chuckled. Wilheim shook his head. “No, I don’t feel like that contributed to Swamp and Gummy liking me.” He said with a small smile. “I don’t regret it, but I did end up thinking whether it was the right thing to do.” “Well, I’m sure the lesson was taught, no matter what.” The Provider shrugged, and leaned against the soft wall. “More recently, Ghostzone was struggling mentally, and I suggested that a fight might help her feel better.” The Provider sat down once more. “Did it?” Wilheim hesitated. “Kind of- a bit- but now she’s been missing for quite a while. I downed her 11 times, before she snapped out of her daze.” The Provider nodded. “I see.”
“Since then, I’ve been having sort of- visions- hallucinations. I didn’t think this was possible.”
It was silent for a moment, and then spoke up. “The only way those could exist is if another God is influencing you, or affecting you in some way. Just consider this when you return.” “I will.”
They sat in silence for a while, before Wilheim stood. “I should prepare to go back. Thanks for the rest, I needed it.” The Provider shrugged. “No worries, I could tell that you needed it.” Its golden eyes glinted as it looked at him. It released a heavy sigh.
“Good luck.”