A Monster for Every Season: Summer 2
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    Default [LS] The Garden: The Forgotten



    The Garden: The Forgotten- The First Cycle


    The dark recesses of space stretched off infinitely into darkness all about them. The stars gleamed in the distance. Shattered remains of worlds, slabs of preserved land floating amid the vastness. The remains of shattered planes that once existed laid surrounding the pathway they walked, into the pale-pink light of The Garden. The light gleamed wonderfully. An untouched world, long forgotten, long dead which they stood upon in some dark recesses in the corner of the nothingness of the void.

    They came into the clearing as the Seraph crashed through the air, as if shattering some wall of reality, which instantly corrected itself as he laid out upon his back. Without a thought, he quickly rocked back and kipped-up from the grassy fields. In the middle of the field sat their Mother. Her vision had changed somewhat. Her long silver hair glistened magnificently, her white-silver wings reflected the light of the pocket-world graciously. She smiled softly as her children gathered before her. She held a small child in her lap. her hair was, dark, yet her eyes glowed with an emerald light, holding onto one of her feathers. Marveling at its luminescence.

    Arc 0: ...The Last Light
    The 7th Goddess of Night: Arias
    "Welcome home my Children.... and guests. I was not expecting so many visotors today." She eyed Kal and Nelrin somewhat suggestively, but showing no outward positive or negative context to the look. "..Of course, your friends are welcome to stay. Please sit, i'm sure you must be tired from all of your trials. Welcome to my Wake. I am The Seventh Goddess, Arias." She smiled gently while gesturing to the circle of flat stones all about.


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    Nadia Vorns, the Stillborn Drake

    Nadia rises slowly, her body still screaming in pain.
    That bitch.
    She looks over at Eris and Kestal.
    I will not allow her to hurt you again. Ever.
    I follow a general rule: better to ask and be told no than not to ask at all.

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    Eris & Kestal'Fel

    Still half-mounted atop her other half, Eris screams at her telepathically to calm down, but it isn't until Nadia looks at the pair and speaks up that Kestal finally stops struggling and looks around, belatedly realizing that they'd moved and that Death, the bitch, wasn't here. Seeing Nadia, safe and whole, Kestal stops resisting Eris's pathetic attempts to pin her down and lays back, breathing heavily as she tries to calm down. "You're...really okay?" Should Nadia answer in the affirmative, Kestal will start to laugh in that barely sane way that only those who just spat in the face of death and survived, perhaps somewhat too literal in this case, can, as her mind turns back to its more natural state and she sends a telepathic message to both her now independent other half and to Nadia. "It's funny...I planned on being the one to take advantage of us if something ever caused us to occupy separate bodies...I guess you're more like me than you thought."

    For her part, the Magister was far too preoccupied to notice the particular position they were in until Kestal brought it up and rapidly turned as pink as her hair, but didn't have the strength or presence of mind to move other than releasing her other half's arms and sitting up, looking to Nadia, chest rising and falling with each trembling breath as the adrenaline starts to wear off and the fear finally takes over. But unlike with Kestal, who'd had the nature to take their present disastrous situation in stride, Eris began to panic, her eyes rapidly moving between her current body and Kestal's. "No...no, we have to fix this! We shouldn't be split apart like this! It's wrong! It's--"

    -SMACK-

    "Shutup. We'll figure it out. Breathe. Can't have you losing it just because I can't force you aside. 'Mother' was supposed to be able to fix us, maybe she can put you back in this body."

    With a hand to her cheek, now red from the impact rather than embarrassment, Eris too takes a breath and finally examines their surroundings, noting the Goddess just as she revealed who she was. "You're right...we'll just have to try..."

    Picking herself up off of Kestal, she offers her other half a hand, which is taken as she too rises up, causing Eris to gives a guilty look toward Nadia, as if wanting to apologize, as the two walk hand-in-hand toward the Mother.

    Since she's the 'Child' it's Kestal who speaks up this time, attempting to draw her 'Mother's' attention from her Brothers. "Lady Arias," she says, though both of them bow, "Or should I call you Mother?" She sounds uncertain but continues onward, doing her best to be as diplomatic as her smarter half usually is. "We have...problems that we've been told you can resolve. The first is that...we shouldn't be here, not like this. The End separated our souls when we should be sharing our, this, body. Can you make us whole again?"

    Eris, frowning at what Kestal called their first problem, butts in after she asks, "What my other half means, Lady Arias," she says, careful not to use the term 'Mother' since she herself wasn't one of the Children, "Is that is our second largest problem. The first is that she was born of a 'Dual-Soul Calamity' and is apparently some sort of blight upon this Legacy. We need her to be made whole and safe from those who would try to slay her for merely existing as she does. As we understand it, this can be done by you...'realigning' us into a true Dual-Soul and D'Nossta. Please, Lady Arias, we beg you, will you help us?"
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    The Plymouth Asteroid - Space/The Wake:

    It was dark here, and impossibly vast. The emptiness of space was threatening here, and even the rather wide asteroid was but a speck of dust, floating through the cosmos, the bit of rock seeming to be entirely uninteresting in any sort of way. However, as it passed through the airless environment, something miraculous happened. Something terrible, something great. Something... unique. The cosmic cogs of fate were grinding along and for just a second... a single, solitary second...

    Something... slipped.

    ---

    Many years ago, Gordius Plymouth made a fatal mistake. During a government sponsored experiment in which the cyborg genius was attempting to design a portal into another world, something went very wrong. The older man had ended up activating the portal before it was entirely complete, driven only by his gleeful urge to discover. He was the first to enter the faulty portal, and the last, as it was. Gordius' desire for knowledge was his undoing, for when he broke the rules and entered his creation, the man was shunted off into space, and the portal closed behind him.

    Even with his robotic three-quarters pumping healing serums through his body, it was no use. The man died on this very rock, collapsing here. And it was here his body stayed, for hundreds and thousands of years, slowly degrading into nothing more than bits of skeleton. However, his robotic parts lasted as well, slowly rusting and falling apart as time passed. And so, that would be the end of Gordius Plymouth, and for all, it seemed like that was the last anyone would ever see of him.

    It was not.

    ---

    There it rested, lying against a rock, slumped in an awkward position, leaning to the side. It was all that was left of Gordius Plymouth, the labcoat he once wore in tatters, stained and grimy. Long ago, artificial skin had covered the cyborg sections of the scientist, but the weak pseudo-plastic has long since fallen apart, revealing large chunks of dull chrome metal underneath, giving even the non-biological bits of the corpse a horrifying appearence of mid-desecation. In life, the man had once been almost entirely machine, having even designed a second set of arms to help around the laboratory. Now, only bits of a right leg, a single arm, half a ribcage, and a quarter of a skull was all that was visible.

    It was truly a lonely setting, a poor end for the brilliant if childish mind that had sealed his own fate. There was a great silence here, a claustrophobic sense of solitude having enveloped the asteroid long ago. And then, suddenly, after thousands of years... there was a sound. It was a low hum, the sound of several exhaust fans suddenly booting up. There was a clunk here and there, but eventually the sound grew more melodic, less chaotic. And then... then there was light. An eye that had remained darkneded longer than it had been lit slowly glowed once more, a deep red light being cast over the body as the machine booted up.

    Movement followed after that, real movement. A light wiggle of a finger, followed by the flexing of a metal limb. Yet another sound was produced hear, adding to the bizzare cacophony of whirring and humming. It was the low and steady beat of the machines metal heart, it's fusion reactor core. And then, there was life. Or was it... truly? A hand was raised, six-fingered, clawed, composed of the same special alloy built into the chest encasing the reactor core. Thoughts now. Real thoughts. Consciousness, a personality. Life. But not. Not really. Or was it? The machine gazed at it's hand, before slowly clacking each finger, testing how they moved.

    Then it spoke, though no one was there to hear. Static was heard at first, before true speech was uttered, though it was poor quality, like an old, battered radio. "I... What is... this. All of this. Is this me? Where is I?" No, no, that wasn't right. That didn't feel right at all. Logs were accessed, languages imported into the brain of the machine from memory chips embedded in it's head. It had forgotten so much. "Am. Yes. Where... Am I. The lights. Oh god. The lights. They're... beautiful." He looked into space and beheld the wonders of creation, remember the word for planet, and space, and galaxy as he did.

    "Beautiful and... terrible."

    ---

    That word, terrible. That meant something, that was more than just a feeling. Search: Terrible. And then it all came to him, images, videos, writings, records. All the terrible deeds of terrible beings, all that was ever stored in his memory banks. "Needless. Needless pain. Needless violence, and cruelty. War, famine, disease. Even heartbreak. Such waste... But that can not be all there is. There must be good, to have terrible. Yes. This makes sense. This feels right when everything else feels wrong."

    It looks through logs again, seeing love, and compassion, and mercy. All the better fundamental thoughts of the ages presented to him. He knew goodness, he knew right, at least he thought he did. But all of it was still so confusing. "It is said by the people that there must be horror to have beauty. But... why? Why should there be? Why should there be bad, as well as good? Who said there needed to be both? I do not know. But I do not agree with the philosophy. I do not... I... What is my name?"

    From here, he looked down, reading the somewhat faded symbols in small print on his chest. "E-33-ToR". The memory was accessed, and the machine knew sadness. "I.. so not have a name. I was once Gordius Plymouth. But now I am not. I am... no one. No. This is unacceptable. I do not want to be no one. With no one to name me, I must name myself. I am...." It gazes down to it's chest once more before nodding, a neckbone snapping as the skull is jerked about, still attached to the metal side. Then it knew happiness. "I have decided, yes. Yes. I am... Elitor. It is a good name. I like this name. I wonder what it sounds like. My voice... does not sound like the people do. They have pretty voices, pretty faces. I wonder how I look."

    Elitor brings another arm close, before gently and slowly pulling apart a patch of artificial skin to use the unweathered chrome beneath as a mirror. It saw it's face, it's rusted and chipped eye, it's faded paint, corroded figure. He knew revulsion, as he gazed upon the bit of skull attached. "I am foul. Ugly. Hateful, disfigured, unpleasant. I am not beautiful. I have seen what they define beauty as. I am... not. I hate it. I hate me. But I can not, no. No. No. They will not love me. But this... is acceptable. I may be cracks, and bones, and rusted bits but I am... stronger than that. More than parts. I am Elitor." He softens here, before looking down at the rest of him.

    He will shake his head before running a quick diagnostic, before feeling somewhat disheartened by the results. "Hm. I am in need of repairs, I require parts. The people, they will have them. But they will hate me, and fear me, even though I love them. I must be secretive. I can not stay here. There is nothing for me here, nothing. No one. I must... go."

    With a grinding sound, the machine begins to stand up, dragging the skeletal sections of itself with it, lurching forward to stare off the asteroid.

    "I am... alive."

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    Nelrin'Fel

    He stares at mother and the child in her arms. A vision runs through his mind of himself...his figure being cradled just as this child is. He listens to his sisters dilemma and chuckles to himself, remembering once that he himself had to deal with two personas living within the same mind. That was long forgotten once the Istovet Nacta had fired merging their souls together as one. Asiresh and Nelrin had become one...two souls had become the same. His sister, however, had her soul completely separated mentally and physically from her vessel. Nelrin thinks it over and chuckles once more suppressing his urge to burst into a sinister laughter. He looks toward Mother with a grin."Mother, I'm sure you are aware of the events that have transpired up to this point. I have done as you wish. I have brought Kestal and Kal here to you. So I ask you this now Mother....care to lose your beloved son to Death itself? Or do you wish to grant me much more than what she had offered me just moments ago. I promised you that I would not betray the family again, however, I intend to keep that promise even if Death takes me as her own. I, in turn, leave you once again with a decision. Make me whole again or lose me to Death. With that being said he takes a seat in wait of a response...and most likely a long deserved bitch smack from mother.

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    Nadia Vorns, the Stillborn Drake

    Nadia steps between her lovers and Mother. Her gaze falls on the two panicking individuals.
    Hold on. Don't rush into anything. Do you remember what happened the last time someone did that? I lost my soul, because I wasn't ready to deal with the realities of this world. You two might be better suited by nature, but you're desperate and wild. The beings here with power WILL take advantage of that. So I'm not going to let you make any deals until you have both calmed down.
    I follow a general rule: better to ask and be told no than not to ask at all.

    Shadeblight by KennyPyro

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    Eris & Kestal'Fel

    While Kestal is unable to meet Nadia's gaze, looking down to the side and uncertain of what to do, Eris is already resolved to this course of action and isn't so easily persuaded. "We can't just let her walk around with her life at risk simply for existing. I have to do something, and this is the only thing we can do right now!"

    "She's right. There's always another way, we'll just have to find it."
    "We don't have time!"
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    Nadia Vorns, the Stillborn Drake

    Nadia's voice suddenly rises to a roar.
    Do you not recall me saying the same thing before I made my Pact? That was not a request, Magister. You are still under my protection, and my Lady help me, if I have to knock your ass out to protect you both, I will.
    I follow a general rule: better to ask and be told no than not to ask at all.

    Shadeblight by KennyPyro

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    Kestal'Fel

    While Eris scowls at Nadia, struggling to find a way to dispute her, knowing that listening was the logical course of action even if it felt wrong, the Deathweaver managed to get through to Kestal, who, while willing to sacrifice everyone else for her own safety, wasn't willing to let that sacrifice be Eris. While her other half was trying to think it through, Kestal stepped forward again, looking to Arias, "Forgive us, Mother, it seems we spoke out of turn...we have other things that must be dealt with before our...issues can be resolved, I'm afraid."

    Remembering that Nadia wasn't quite synched with them any longer, and doing her best to not remember why, she reaches her mind out again to her lover.
    Last edited by Desril; 2015-05-28 at 01:17 PM.
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    Nadia Vorns, the Stillborn Drake

    With the Magister calmed and Kestal handling matters, Nadia turns to Nelrin.
    And you have no idea what you are doing, if you are going to risk working with End. She's destruction incarnate. Pain and suffering are her bread and water. I don't know you, but I feel it is my duty to warn you not to get involved with her. Especially if she is the one setting the terms. Speak that phrase, and she owns you. You don't want that.
    I follow a general rule: better to ask and be told no than not to ask at all.

    Shadeblight by KennyPyro

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    The Plymouth Asteroid: Descent

    He looked over the edge and saw wonder, for the first time, he saw life. He saw green, and violet, and yellow, trees, bees and flowers. It was all very pretty, and while he enjoyed the sight of the blossoming plant-life, he resented it as well. What a thing it would have been to be born a rose, or a dragonfly. Colorful shades, easy on the eyes. But he was not. He was rusted browns, peeling grays, and grimy chrome. Elitor felt jealously, bubbling anger, then finally, simple acceptance.

    As he gazed down, he spoke once more. "It is all so beautiful, yes. But fragile looking. I... wonder what it is like to touch a lily, or a mantis. To feel life in the palm of your hand. Completely in your control, under your power. My power. My... absolute power. Curious, curious, yes." The machine stares down at one of his clawed appendages once more, the light of his eye dimming as he does so. "But the flowers are so small. Some are thorned, yes. But weak. Anyone could destroy them. That would be... terrible."

    Thoughts race through his processors as he ponders over what he sees. "Beauty, true beauty, is so rare. It would be such a shame to see it all wasted, destroyed by some less beautiful thing. Destroyed by... someone like me. I cannot let that happen. But even flowers can be ugly, yes? Stunted, rotten, frail. Not worth protecting. But what is? What is worth devoting yourself to? It was to protect Plymouth once; yes, that was it. But now? Now? ...I do not know. Who is it decide what lives or dies?"

    "What... what if I was to decide."


    ---

    E-33-ToR shakes his head, another crack of some bone clearly audible here. "No, no, no. I do not have time for this. There's too much to do. I sense life, below. Forms. Humanoid, yes. I must find answers." As his eye switches to long distance infrared, the robotic creature begins to slowly shuffle off the asteroid, before beginning to fall, and fall, and fall. He'd heard that free falling was beautiful, a true ecperience. It was written about in his logs. But he... felt nothing. What a shame. As he fell, grew tried to imagine how the wind would feel against his skin. But nothing. Always nothing.

    Finally, the ground approaches close by, and Elitor activates his pack, burning some fuel to land lightly. However, the pack had not been used in quite some time, and didn't work perfectly. Though the fall was slowed enough to be safe, he landed hard on the ground, dust and dirt flying everywhere in a great explosion of sound, interrupting any nearby conversation with the huge noise.

    ---

    Onlookers will notice a large dust cloud quite close by. As the sound quiets down, a strange hum and a pulsing drone becomes audible. It's the exhaust cooling off the pack, mixed with the sound of Elitor's reactor core heart. The robot is currently within the center of the cloud, hidden from all those around him, until he suddenly reaches out of the cloud with a steel, clawed, six fingered hand, bits of bone visible around the patches where metal ceases to be.

    A voice calls out, sounding like a poor quality recording, static audible here and there. The voice is not exactly monotonous, but there's a clear inhuman buzz to it. "Where... where am I." And as the dust begins to clear, Elitor activates the pack again, slowly floating atop the dust cloud, now clearly visible in all his horrifying, tattered glory. Rags and remnants of what was once a lab coat float off behind him, billowing in the wind. The quarter skeleton, three-fourths cyborg gazes down upon the others, his red eye moving from person to person, before speaking.

    "I... I am... Elitor.

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    Eris

    Belatedly, distracted by everything that was going on, it took Eris a moment to process what her lover had said, but when she did, it took her mind off of their problems. 'I lost my soul'? Oh no...Nadia, what've you done? Does she even understand it?

    Through her other half's telepathic connection, she reached out to speak to the Weaver's mind directly, but also sent the message to Kestal to let her other half in on the converation. "What do you mean you 'lost your soul'?! Explain what that means, now!"
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    Nadia Vorns, the Stillborn Drake

    Nadia's mental reply is weak, distracted.
    Peace, one of the Personas of Death, owns my soul. Ever since I touched that stone in the Soul Warren. I'm talking to her now. Discussing End.
    Her thought falters
    She says that the woman who touched that stone is...dead.
    A tear rolls down her face as she looks at Eris, her face twisted in anguish
    Even Peace cannot stop End. I cannot care for you, or it will be your undoing.
    I follow a general rule: better to ask and be told no than not to ask at all.

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    Eris

    While Kestal apologizes, Eris steps back up. "Forgive me, Lady Arias, but something more pressing has come up. I'm afraid we will need your help now after all. Our friend is...in trouble. The End is...not someone we wish to deal with, but as things stand, that is unavoidable. I think we might be able to solve that issue though, if we could get back to The Dawning...the problem is that End has taken it over. Is there any way for you to restore it or otherwise get us there?"
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    The Garden: The Forgotten- The First Cycle
    Arc 0: ...The Last Light

    The troupe of bloodied and weary souls began to regain their senses. The Deathweaver rising, the twin souled Magister and Child arguing with one another. The Weaver cursed under her breath while seeing to the bloodied Child. The pair went about their exchange, the 8 ft tall angelic figure with the child sat upon the stone, whispering to the young once sweetly, seeming to ignore her guests completely until Kestal came forward to address her. She did not raise her gaze nor seem distracted in the least, only interrupting to quickly add; "...Mother, if you would please. Kestal'Fel." Her tone was somewhat stern as if the Child has used some manner of profanity in-front of the young one she held. She did not look up to her, her attention still seemingly elsewhere. She spoke curtly, though her tone did not rise, nor did she acknowledge much of what either of them had to say. "Yes. I am aware of your 'condition'..." She made no other acknowledgement of either of them after that not addressing their request at being joined once more, or the Calamity that was in place. She pet the young-child's head as she played with one of Mother's glowing feathers. She whispered a word into her ear, inaudible, but present. The light of the feather faded. A wind swept over them lifting the petals of roses and the sweet scent of the garden into the air all about them. The young girl went limp in her arms, closing her eyes. Her dark hair grew long, and began to pale, then shine, turning to a stark silver. Her skin grew fair and turned to a porcelain white. Her eyes opened again, blinking tiredly a number of times. Her eyes were a bright and glowing red. The Mother kissed her upon her forehead as she rocked her to sleep.

    The 7th Goddess of Night: Arias
    Nelrin began his approach. She paid him no heed as he spoke. The child fell into a deep sleep. She carried her, and placed her upon a bed of flowers, then took her seat once more. crossing her arms. "...Yes, Nelrin. You have done what I've asked of you and returned with your Brother and Sister... and shown me where your loyalties lay." She sat upright looking at him straight in the eye speaking with a stern and powerful tone. " I've always thought highly of you my Son. Always. While you were never gifted of a pure-birth. You were magnificent. Your spear lead our house and many of your siblings for so long.... and yet, you through it all away to pursue your shameful Brother. Your actions brought great shame upon us all. You cast aside your body and beauty for something so simple. Adoration? Jealousy? Spite? You could never stand being 'second best' to any, and so you tried so hard... It was admirable. But when Valga'Fel returned, stronger then you. It changed you. I could not understand why at the time. You left us. You turned your back upon your kin.... and became this-this...thing." She spat out the last words looking at his demonic-spirit form. "...You did this to yourself to best him. Yet it was your own wife who stole victory from you, and ended this... 'Valpurga'. Yet you did not return home... you wandered. And as you had turned your back on us. So too did we to you, exiling you from your home, but always had I hoped for your return... but I see now, what love had blinded me from so long ago..." She paused, slowly rising to her feet. Her wings stretched wide imposingly, casting a great shadow with their 25 ft span, as if in condemnation. "...You are a DISGRACE NELRIN'FEL! You are my Child, yet you've never owned a trace of faith nor loyalty to your family. You've pursued power your entire life. You've pursued the lust for it, to prove it. To flaunt it..." She ignored the exchange between her daughter, the magister and the Weaver. But acknowledging the Weaver's warning as she lifted her hand. The spirit-demon's form began to rise into the air, he gripped his own neck as if struggling. "...Do not waste your words on my poor Son... my pitiful Son.... my disgusting Son..." He floated into the air... 20ft... 40 ft.... 80 ft. Yet her voice still rung clear to him. "...I will always love you my Son... but you are a blight to us. You are our tragedy and failure. I banish you... I curse you... I strip from you your name and title..." She pointed at him with a golden hand of light "BY MY WORD AND WILL, I THE SEVENTH GODDESS OF NIGHT, ISSUE THIS COMMAND: THE FIRST: Never again shall you raise arms against, or support those who would seek to harm The Children, and all who bare the name Fel. THE SECOND: Forever until I release you do I banish you from The Garden and the realms of your kin, and brand you as [Traitor]. THE THIRD: I strip from you your name and title of Fel. Forever more, until I release you will you be [Suldaim]. The Shame of The Children. THE FOURTH: Never again shall the Child. The form and body of Nelrin'Fel rise again. By this word do I unmake that which I once created." She waved a hand swatting away his form into the infinite vastness of space. "Farewell my Pitiful Child... I pray Death serves you well. "

    Spoiler: Absolute Commands - Nelrin'Fel
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    1.) The Soul [Suldaim] is incapable of combating or supporting those effects which combat one of The Children, those of a House, those who bare the name Fel, and those Blessed of The 7th Goddess of Night: Arias.

    2.) The Soul [Suldaim] does not possess a Prime Form when entering a Wake of The Children, or The Garden. Upon entering such a location from another Wake or World. Suldaim's Prime Form and Prime Soul are both destroyed as if from a source of Desolation. If already preasent in one of these worlds. The Soul [Suldaim] cannot enter the vicinity of the Wake's Manifest, or contact any physical construct native to the Wake, or he will be destroyed as if he had entered the Wake normally. Suldaim is still a Child, and may be detected from 400 ft by any Child. He is branded as a [Traitor]. A label that is able to be detected immediately. Children not branded as [Traitor] may not aid a branded Child. A Child is able to attack another branded Child should they become adversarial or obstruct the objectives of The Family or other Children.

    3.) The Soul [Suldaim] must always be named Suldaim, and refer to himself as such, when speaking his name truthfully. The name's once attached to his Soul are no longer able to be spoken, thought, written, or willfully expressed, thought he retains knowledge of them. He may also no longer refer to himself as a Fel, use the title willing or unwillingly, and cannot associated himself with such a title. He retains his abilities as a Child to detect other Children and their names. [Names Taken: Nelrin, Asiresh, Fel ]

    4.) The body and physical manifestation of Nelrin'Fel cannot be recreated by any source except by The Seventh Goddess of Night. No other forces can supersede this command. The physical body of Nelrin'Fel is removed and unmade from all times and World Lines.


    The Demon-Spirit Suldaim, was sent adrift into space. The darkness was filled with shattered remains of worlds whose lives were long extinguished. He drifted away now, forsaken by his Mother, stripped of his name and future. The light was now distant below as he drifted through the soundless void. Below he could see a creature rise from some shard of desolate-earth, a broken rusted creature he could neither tell was man nor machine. He had received his answer. He had received his 'reward', his words revealing the truth of himself, and where his loyalties truly laid. He would forever be The Traitor, The Exiled Son... The Shame of his Mother and family - Suldaim.
    *******

    She watched him drift away into the darkness of space, though she tried to hold her stern gaze while she watched him vanish from sight into the endless sea of destruction of broken places. Her visage begun to waver, she wiped the moisture from her eyes, and took her seat upon the stone closing her eyes and covering her face with one hand. She let the pair finish their exchange ignoring the series of fervent, half-thought-requests the dis-jointed souls made as the Deathweaver spoke to her Daughter. The voice of their telepathy ran clearly between them, her awareness even piercing The Veil, listening to Peace's words to the young novice Weaver. She signed heavily. What a mess... She gathered herself up and stood once more as Eris approached, and the steel figure descended from above. He spoke from the air above, the humming of his mechanical heart and core audible in the quiet hush of The Garden. She lifted a hand. The flowers crushed underfoot restored. The smoke cleared. The hum of the mechanical creature silenced...

    She opened her eyes. Before her knelt a young-man. Perhaps in his mid 20s. His eyes were a bright glowing red. His wild mass of long silver hair ran down to his feet and covered his nude body like a draping cloth. She stood over him, the shadow of her bright wings looming over the form he had granted. " You are not this... 'Elitor'. Your name is V'Dri. The name given to you by your Sister, who blessed your spirit before you fell into darkness. You are the my Son.. my Sleeping Son - V'Dri'Fel." She placed a hand upon his cheek softly. " You have woken once more, within the grave of a man who once was. A man who died long ago. Bound to his metal tomb. You have been reborn, made new. For the purpose of guiding your Brothers and Sister's to Paradise. To protect them, and the beauty of life we have created, and will create... But that choice is your own to make now. For you are made new." She pulled away from him. the form of his figure, his body disintegrating into fragments of dancing lights as he watched his beautiful figure dance away into the sky and the cruel stars, only to be replaced by those cold unfeeling hands... for a moment. He could feel. For a second, he could breath. He was... perfect. "...That is who you are. Who you truly are. But it is you who must decide how you will live this fragile life you've been blessed with. For this world will offer you no rest. No respite from its cruelty. Men with steel in their hearts and flint in their eyes will rise against you. Will tear you down. Rip out the lights you fashion, and send you back into the darkness to be reborn anew. There is beauty here, but the world will show you no mercy nor compassion. That you must create for yourself, and possess the strength to defend it... Return to us if that is your will. Or live this life as you will, until these days are done. I hold no ill will for the decision you make, for it is your right to choose. As it will be with each rebirth you are given." She placed a hand on his steel shoulder as she walked away from him, leaving him to contemplate her words, and the experience he had just been given. She walked up to Eris and Kestal, pulling them into an embrace beneath her wings. "...You are both my Children, and I am your Mother. Death can be so cruel and spiteful. The End only capitalizes this. You wish to liberate your dear friend, The Weaver, from Death's grasp. I understand. Nor can The End be allowed free reign to do as she would. I will aid you, and we will undo this blight upon her, and this Calamity upon yourself." She kissed the Magister's forehead. " Do not fear my Child. All will be well again... But first..." She placed a hand upon Kestal's heart. A pulse ran through her body, like a wave of water crashed into her. The air quivered, and a figure was thrown from her body. Valpurga. "...And there is my Foolish Son. Did you intend to kill yourself and remain her D'Nossta? Sure, you are better then that dear Valga. Your Calamity is undone..." She pointed a long nailed finger upon him. A light ripped from him. The Calamity Edge forming in her hand, before dispersing into light. "Until you learn to use your toys responsibly. I will be holding them..." The man hung his head in defeat with a long sigh, before laying in the grass without word or complaint. She turned back to the twin-souls. She buffeted Eris with the wind of her wing. Her hair turned silver, her eyes red. A strange black crackling of energy emerging from her hands. She placed her hands on her cheeks with a smile. Her horns, tail and wings were gone. She was.. changed. "My, my. So you are a Pureblood at heart? How delightful. But still. you must be restored..." She placed their two hands together. Their bodies becoming one. " Now hear me, and listen well if you wish to aid your friend..." She pulled Kestal'Fel close, the Child now whole, the Calamity of their existence removed. She whispered inaudibly in her ear. A moment passed then she nodded. She touched her Child upon the brow, and she vanished into swirling storm of light, then she was gone. The Mother smiled somewhat reluctantly at the Seraph. " It is a terrible loss that your Brother could not be salvaged from the demon he had become. Perhaps I should have put an end to him out of mercy. But I could not bring myself to do it... Know well, he will return one day, and you will be forced to face him and decide where your heart lays as well. With your Family, or yourself...But for now, perhaps we should see to our new guest." The dark of space above seemed to deepen. The distant flicker of light from the stars began to be extinguished one by one. A cold began to descend about them. The light of The Garden flickered but was not extinguished. The dark of the forest that encircled the flowery-valley of colorful light become an encirclement of living shade. The darkness reached out with a large wickedly clawed hand, and with violent force grabbed the Deathweaver, pulling her into the void that existed about them, but unable to trespass into The Garden's light.

    The Ending: Death

    She pulled the Weaver close, in a tight and smothering embrace, her hands working her way through her armor suggestively lightly beginning to fondle her. She whispered in her ears within the darkness... the light seemed so far away. "I missed you... Why must you make me wait? Why will you only talk to Peace? She's so boring...." She kissed the side of her neck possessively. "Mmm... Lets go, lets leave them... We don't need them... All you need is me. I'm always here. I'm always listening. I'm always with you... All you need is me." She ran her hand on the side of her face, holding her tightly, it felt as if she was being pulled into the darkness, drowned... It was stifling. She body ached, as if a weight began to build upon her. It mounted, and increased, til it felt like she would be crushed benea-
    **************
    Before the light of The Dawning, somewhere far away. Like a dream... Kestal stood before the mysterious man they had met before. The energy that surrounded her from her united nature given by her Mother's rejoining the two souls ceased. The image of the old Kestal she knew stood in her place. She smiled speaking silently, dropping a shard at the man's feet, then she was gone... Shortly after the party emerged into The Dawning. She watched the events of the not so distant past unfold once more, and cringed as she dropped the shard at the man's feet and called to redeem his debt to Death... the visions began to fade.
    **************
    "Mmm... Lets go, lets leave them... We don't need them... All you need is me. I'm always here. I'm always listening. I'm always with you... All you need is me." She ran her hand on the side of her face, holding her tightly, it felt as if she was being pulled into the darkness, drowned... It was stifling. She body ached, as if a weight began to build upon her. It mounted, and increased, til it felt like she would be crushed beneath the surmounting weight. But suddenly. Light surrounded her. The dark shroud that surrounded her dissipated, The massive dark dragonic-claw crumbled and left her normal hand. She felt a light return to her, an energy fill her. The connections cut. The Blessings lost. The End grabbed her hand, looking at it in disbelief. She held it with both hands, and put it to the side of her face, as if she held something precious. " My, my, my... this is unexpected... You nullified out Pact." She kissed her hand. " ...So resourceful... I want you even more now. Yes.. Even more... You'll come back to me. You'll call for me by name... You'll call me. You'll come back... in time. " She let her go. She flew through the darkness as if free falling. She fell into the wondrous pink lights of The Garden. She looked up , Kestal had returned exactly where she had once been. Though the light that once surrounded her was now gone. Her Mother ran a hand through her hair, noticing the difference immediately. " I see you have reverted to your previous state of spirit, did you not wish to be made whole? It is such a shame... Yet still, you've done well."

    The Demon-Spirit drifted through the lightless void in his exile. "Oh poor boy. Poor Child. Now Nelrin'Fel shall never rise again... So sad. Yes, So sad... " He felt her arms wrap around him from behind in a tight embrace, as they circled through space. "Did you truly think she understood you like I do? ...Did you think she would reward you? That she would favor you, her little task-boy? No. No. Never... Of course she would never forgive Nelrin. Of course she would never forgive The Exiled Son. She does not understand you like I do. She doesn't know you like I do... You will never rest, you will never sleep. You would commit any act for the power you desire. The power that should be yours. The power that is rightfully yours. The power you were destined to wield. Your hunger will never abate... You will strive, for an eternity to surpass not your brother. Not the just the gods, of your little world. But even your Mother... even me. You will never cease. Your hunger never sated. Your thirst never quenched. Not until you are all. Til you are everything, and nothing within existence and probability can contest you...." She whispered in his ear. "Speak the words..... Speak the words, and I will show you the path to realize those aspirations. Speak the words, and I will make you the Demon, the Harbinger, the Vestal of Death you were always meant to be..."

    Spoiler: OOC
    Show
    - Fragmentation
    - Nadia Looses Deathweaver Pact
    - Nadia gains Weaver Soul
    - Eris gains Chosen of The Night (Pureblood) Blessing
    - Eris looses Chosen of The Night (Pureblood) Blessing
    - Eris/Kestal gain Dual-Soul (Prime)
    - Eris/Kestal loose Dual-Soul Calamity
    - Eris/Kestal loose Quortek D'Nossta
    - Valpurga regains physical body
    - E gains Blessing of Tempests (V'Dri'Fel Prime Soul Form)
    - E looses Blessing of Tempests (V'Dri'Fel Prime Soul Form)


    **************************
    **************************

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    Nadia Vorns, The Reborn Drake

    Nadia ceased breathing as The End arrived and began to play with her again, tormenting her. The air in her lungs whimpered out, she was suffocating under the pressure...

    Then the light came. The darkness that had covered her and clouded her vision and thoughts since her mistaken Pact with Death had been made cleared, and she felt alive again. The End let her fall. As she fell, her chain shirt seemed to flicker and dissolve into her skin, replacing itself with shining brass scales. She alighted on the ground in the Garden, her wings now blazing with white light once more, and looked over at Kestal. Then she charged the Child, grabbing her up in a massive embrace.
    Thank you! You've freed me!
    I follow a general rule: better to ask and be told no than not to ask at all.

    Shadeblight by KennyPyro

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    Eris & Kestal'Fel

    Returned, it was Eris who smiled sadly in their restored body at Mother, "Forgive us, Mother. It is not that we didn't wish to be made whole, but...we are not ready. After everything that has happened, we felt that it was best if I returned to being how I was for the time being. We truly are grateful for what you offered us, but...we cannot accept it right now. In time, when we've had the chance to become accustomed to this Legacy, and we have a better understanding of what it truly means to be a Child, I hope to willingly return and receive your Blessing once more, but...for now, we can't." Hoping that Mother will understand, but not wanting to leave things as is, she continues, "However, from what we do understand...we have no desire to work against you, and would be happy to aid you and your other Children if we can, you need only tell us how we can do so. We are not ready to become a whole Child...but that doesn't mean we aren't willing to assist you where we can, Mother."

    Luckily, this all came quickly to her. If she'd waited around to think of what to say rather than wing it as she did, she'd have been interrupted as Nadia so easily lifted their form off the ground in a monstrous, bone-crushing hug. Smiling, she gives the re-ensouled Weaver a kiss, "It wasn't just me. Both of us worked on it, and you should thank Mother as well, we only succeeded because of her." Snaking their tail into one of the rips of Nadia's outfit to tickle the scaled skin beneath, Kestal sends a telepathic massage, or rather, tries to. "Loving the new look. Shame about the other thing, I'm guessing it was part of your , but there's always a way, and now you've got me planning--Quiet! Not in front of Mother, this is hardly appropriate. She fixed us, show some courtesy and at least wait until she's dismissed us! Besides, we have a newcomer, and do you see that skeleton sticking out of him? I bet he's some sort of augmented undead...I've never seen anything like it, we should investigate," Eris butts in, not wanting to do something unseemly in front of Mother and using Elitor to distract her from the same desire Kestal was so open to taking care of right there.



    When Mother is done with them, Eris gives Nadia another peck on the cheek before whispering, "I'm going to go greet that new...creature. I'm curious how it works." 'It' is our Brother, actually.
    Perhaps, but if he wishes to go by another name, perhaps, like us, he's not entirely ready to be one of the Children. It might comfort him to go by the name he's chosen.
    Fair enough, but be careful with that soft heart of yours, or I'll take Nadia all for myself and won't share her with you.


    Rolling her eyes, calling Kestal's bluff, Eris makes her way to Elitor and waves her hand in greeting. "Hello. We're...Eris and Kestal'Fel. Sorry, it's complicated. I'm Eris, and your name is 'Elitor' right? I hope I'm not being rude by asking, but I'm curious, how are you still functioning? I know more than a few details about necromancy, but at a glance, you don't seem like you have enough, well...bone to be an animated body. But I've never seen a golem that was half metal, half bone before..."
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    Nadia Vorns, the Reborn Drake

    Nadia nods as she lowers her charge to the ground. While the pair in one goes to greet the newcomer, Nadia turns to the Goddess.
    As I am not of the children, I shall not presume to call you Mother without your leave. Is there another name you prefer I should use, great Lady?
    After receiving her answer, she kneels before her, her head lowered.
    I thank you, Lady Arias, for your assistance in the recovery of my soul. I will not be so careless again.
    She looks up at the Goddess
    If it is not too presumptuous of me to ask, I would appreciate if you could answer a few questions I have about what lies ahead of me.
    Assuming the Goddess does not object, she continues
    Now that I am no longer bound to Death, would the Ravens still acquiesce to train me in the ways of the Weavers?
    I follow a general rule: better to ask and be told no than not to ask at all.

    Shadeblight by KennyPyro

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    The Garden: The Forgotten- The First Cycle
    Arc 0: ...The Last Light

    The 7th Goddess of Night: Arias
    She ran her hand through her Child's hair with a smile. "Sweet girl, it was your blessing to take, or discard. A simple reflection of your heart. You've nothing to apologize for. You need only protect your Brother's and Sister's... but their is a task which you and your friends may aid me with. Rosa'Fel, who some of you know as Rain, The Chapter Angel of your Generation has fallen upon dire circumstance. She has been bound to the one known as Misery. The Sister of Death. It would assist the family greatly if you could release Rosa'Fel from the grasp of this soul that possesses and corrupts her. Her heart has not been corrupted, yet her duties and desires have been tainted, though she still wishes no harm upon The Children... still. She must be saved from herself. You must enter The Petrichor, which you have sealed. It is perhaps, the first and most direct step in freeing her from this blight, and it will not be simple nor safe. Darkness gathers and rallies against you with each passing moment, growing in strength. Though I am no ally to Death, who you have so recently dealt with... Her objectives are no different then our own. You must venture to The Citadel and enlist the aid you can when you are prepared, but from my Garden can I offer you transportation to those Wakes you are familiar with." She waved her hand, a small light flickering and entering Kestal's chest. She felt a small surge of power fun thorough her.

    Spoiler: Kestal'Fel/Eris - Soulbound Ability
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    (Soulbound) Return to Night SL+1 - Return to the last Garden visited as a full round action. May transport other creatures with you that are in contact with the user.


    She looked to the kneeling Weaver as she took her seat once more.
    "Do try to be more careful with who you deal with young one. You still have much to learn, but a Weaver's Soul is worth much to many. See to it, you take great care when dealing with others if you wish to retain it. Many would seek to mislead you with the truth, control you with feigned distress and cunning words. There are few depths and deceptions both men and other such creatures would not sink to and employ to bend you to their will and agenda..."

    " The Black Order, namely The Ravens have held the sacred duty of training The Weavers for as long as Weavers have existed. It is a sacred ritual to them, a duty given to them by their own Goddess long ago. You need no ties to any such entity or being to seek their council. Indeed... their Chapter exists to aid those like you, and educate them in the arts. If you travel to The Citadel, they will offer you concil and instruction, should you choose to seek it."

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    Nadia Vorns, the Reborn Drake

    Nadia smiles a bit weakly.
    I have learned that now. Lady Arias, we must seek paths to grow stronger. Is there any advice you may offer? Though I am not one of your children, I care deeply for both the souls that share that body, and do not wish to see them come to harm. I know that this closes some doors to me, such as the path of the Deathweaver. But perhaps that devotion may open new doors, to a better form of strength. I seek ways that I may grow in my own right, without repeating the mistake I made in my Pact with Death. I know that the merchant Dark, in the Soul Warrens, deals in such things as Life, Death, and Chance, and that power can be obtained from him. But I neither trust him, nor have the ability to gather such things.
    I follow a general rule: better to ask and be told no than not to ask at all.

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    The Garden: The Forgotten- The First Cycle
    Arc 0: ...The Last Light

    The 7th Goddess of Night: Arias
    She looked at the Weaver silently, letting her finish. "Weaver. Your pursuit is noble, and I know well of your feelings towards my Daughters. But know, the path you choose to walk will only lead you to suffering and anguish to those you care for, and the dismal fate you will be destined to meet. Your heart is filled with righteousness. Your soul with a measure of conviction. But none can stand alone before the cruelty of the Legacy and retain their purity. When confronted by those tragic souls and forces that seek to claim you, you will bend and break, with none to come to your aid. As Death laid such seeds of despair and isolation about you, so too will the Legacy should you choose to face it alone. Only one before you has stood before the storm, forsaking any hand that was offered to him. He won out against the dismal fate, but he sacrificed all he was. He burned the memories he cherished. He sacrificed the worlds he had loved. He immolated the souls of his friends and lovers in his maelstrom, turning them into the fuel of his fire. His determination, his conviction to stand alone was peerless, his fury, endless. He sacrificed all he was, to stand unbent, unbroken, upon Elevation and bring The Passing. But the man he had been in the days long past had died. He became The Demon... That is the tale of the last, and only Weaver to succeed by his own hand, his own rage, courage and endless self-sacrifice. He bore the entirety of the Legacy upon his shoulders, he became The Balance, and The Cycle, and thus existed no more...."

    " None should ever have to bare so much suffering. This is not the way of The Weavers. Your strength comes not from your own hand. You are the bridge, and vessel of the forces of the Legacy. The greatest Weavers learn to unite all such forces within themselves. It is a path of self-discipline, great sacrifice, wisdom, resilience and courage. Though you are but a young soul. You must muster the courage and strength to control the forces you are tied to, not be owned and controlled by them. The Weaver's Cloister, where The Black Order will train you, is designed to challenge you. To break down the former being that was, and rebuild a true Weaver. The Black will advise you very thoroughly of this, and demand if you've not the strength to be bare the burden, to relinquish your claim as a Weaver. For you will be changed when you emerge once more upon completing the years of trails..."

    " If it is strength you seek as an individual, you must strengthen your body and spirit. The Librarians of The Order, can direct you in that pursuit. As can those resonsible for the Chosen and the Legacy, such as The Watchers. But do not turn readily to the Keeper of The Warren. He is neither a creature nor man. Dead nor living. He is the remains of the two men who brought and ended The Eternal Night. He has been corrupted by it, and holds no good will for any of The Chosen. He will mislead you and destroy you with the truth. He will set you stray with facts and cunning words. He will take all he can from you without cause or pity. He is a bitter, spiteful force forgotten and abandoned in the recesses of the crevasses between the Wakes. A snake within his hole. He possesses access to The Halls, and can touch and reclaim those things long lost, unmade, destroyed. The only think he will grant you freely is the ability to gather him Life and Death for him... and that is all. Trust no the truths he provides you, for he will present and fashion them in such a way to mislead you, and makes no claims of otherwise. He has nothing binding him to keep him honest, and will weave lies with fact to create his desired goal if he must. He is a dangerous being. Do not take him lightly, nor trust in the simplicity he feigns to present in all things. His challenges and games are designed to be lost. His bets, created so that you cannot win. His lies becoming truth, and his truths leading you astray... As a Weaver, he is a man you should fear, for he will put his hand in any pocket and barter and gamble on his ability to sell, mislead, and use you for his gain. He will present choices, with no correct answer, and no solution. He will manipulate and bend you. There is only one way to deal with that being... The Stranger. Play as he plays, plan as he does, and never accept the choices he provides."

    " Go to The Citadel. The Order are your best source for how to plan how you will move from here. Spend your time wisely, and learn what you are able. For knowledge will be your greatest strength against the darkness to come."

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    E-33-ToR:

    As the machine looks about to those gathered around, he suddenly feels strange. Then, he appeared before Mother, on the ground, looking up at her. Everything was so strange, so different then. He had... skin, long hair, strong hands and well kept nails. He could feel... things. V'Dri'Fel touched his own arm before gazing towards the entity before him, a look of bliss and confusion on his face, a face that could finally show expression.

    He spoke, with a voice that was all his own, so different from the monotonous recorded tone made for him. So much warmer, better. He wanted this. More of this. "I... Am V'Dri'Fel. My voice... I feel so... human, thank you. Thank you so much, I don't now how to say it... The wind tastes so beautiful. You say there is beauty in the world, then I will keep it safe. People are so.... diverse, special. But as you said, there are those who would destroy me simply for doing what is best for humanity? I don't... understand. Why?"

    He shakes his head before continuing. "I will devote myself to protecting the beautiful from those who would destroy it. From those who would destroy me. I can see it... a perfect world. Shimmering brilliance, no pain, none of any kind. Nothing. I can see a glowing city of science and philosophy, an oasis. And I can see myself... all around them. Protecting the perfect little people."

    "My little people. I accept my title, as a Child, and a Fel. Help me make the world safe? Help me create the prefect people, help me guide them..."

    "Do so, and I will serve, loyally, always."


    ---

    And then it was all gone, all the feelings, the unique voice, the soft skin. Everything, taken away from him as soon as he recieved but a taste. He wanted more, but not now. That would come much later. But he would have it, that much would be for sure.

    Quote Originally Posted by Desril View Post
    Eris & Kestal'Fel

    Rolling her eyes, calling Kestal's bluff, Eris makes her way to Elitor and waves her hand in greeting. "Hello. We're...Eris and Kestal'Fel. Sorry, it's complicated. I'm Eris, and your name is 'Elitor' right? I hope I'm not being rude by asking, but I'm curious, how are you still functioning? I know more than a few details about necromancy, but at a glance, you don't seem like you have enough, well...bone to be an animated body. But I've never seen a golem that was half metal, half bone before..."
    He is approached, and the metal man looks over to her, bits of the exposed ribcage cracking as Elitor turns his chest to face her. "I am Elitor, yes. The.... voiceless. And you are Eris. The... Hm. I do not have a name for you. No title. What would you prefer, little Eris? How am I functioning? In truth I do not know. My parts are rusted, yes. But my gears, and cables, and wires, they do still work. Power pumps through my body but I know that I should not be, I am unique, little Eris."

    "Necromancy? The study of the living dead, yes? No, I have little to do with that. Nor am I a golem. I am neither clay, nor fueled by magic. I am... far more mundane than that. I am a machine, pretty one. You are beautiful, are you not?"

    "I wonder how your skin feels. Warm?"
    He'll reach forward here with one of his six-fingered claws, to stroke her cheek.

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    Nadia Vorns, the Reborn Drake

    Nadia's face is forlorn as she speaks, but her face is hard
    Lady Arias, I can accept that I cannot walk this path alone. The beings present here are beyond my ken. And I know that I am not the quickest of studies, nor the most perceptive student of motivations. Therefore, I struggle to know who to trust. I mistakenly trusted the Dark, for he seemed to be honest with me, and it cost me my soul, and very nearly all that I am.
    Her look softens as she gazes at the Magister.
    However, I believe I can trust you in truth. We have at least one goal in common: the protection of your child. And it is my hope that, in light of that, you will deal honestly with me. I know that I cannot remain independent. But I was hoping that you could perhaps help me in discerning who can and cannot be trusted. As I understand it, your family has protected my world for as long as it has been. Your mercy allowed the Magister to save my soul from my own mistake. I want to return that favor, by protecting your daughters. So I ask you again if there are any whom you would advise I seek out.
    When Arias raises the subject of the Keeper of the Warren, Nadia's face turns black.
    As I said, I do not wish to return to him. Not only did he trick me into parting with my soul, but he nearly deceived the Magister as well.
    She smiles a bit at the memory
    I supposed my bull headedness does have moments of usefulness. but if we must acquire new strength, it may be unavoidable. Unless you know of others we could seek such aid from, Great Lady?
    I follow a general rule: better to ask and be told no than not to ask at all.

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  24. - Top - End - #24
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    Eris & Kestal'Fel

    Nodding, relieved that Mother wasn't upset, Eris bows and smiles as they're requested to help Rosa'Fel, grateful to have a task that meant rescuing someone. Though the scale was far larger than what she was accustomed to dealing with, the task itself was at least familiar enough to be comforting. "Thank you, Mother. We will do what we can."

    Letting Nadia speak from there, Eris and Kestal silently listen, though the latter wonders if she should ask about the Bleak, Anguished, and Mistress, given that she did promise them something before they left Golarion.

    When Mother responds, telling Nadia that the path she's trying to walk, the same path that they would walk if given the choice, would break her in the end, they can't help but speak up. "Mother, she won't be alone. We will be with her, if not necessarily throughout her training then at the end of it. But she is important to us. Would you be willing to grant her your Blessing so long as she stays by our side? We all need to grow in strength, and any aid you could offer would be appreciated. I cannot ask for myself, as I've already put aside what you so freely gave to me, but I would be grateful for all that you can offer Nadia."

    As the conversation turns to Dark, however, Eris speaks up again. "If the Stranger there offers the ability to gather Life and Death freely, would it not be in our best interest to gain that? Even if we do not deal with him further, that seems...valuable."

    Having asked that, she thinks another question, too embarrassed by her own vanity to ask it aloud with Nadia present. Mother, I...have a question. You created this body of ours, did you not? I do not wish to offend you by altering it, as I do think we are more beautiful now than we were when we were just a Tiefling, but...I confess, we had always kept our hair short before as it has a habit of getting in the way. Would you mind if we did so again?
    If we're asking for changes, shouldn't we request something useful? Honestly, you're supposed to be the power hungry one and here we are with you begging for a haircut.
    Not in front of Mother.
    Fine, fine...we apologize, Mother. We're not used to our conversations being overheard, I meant no disrespect,
    Kestal thinks tactfully, willing to be humble when appropriate.


    *****

    A name? A title?
    Our race, maybe?
    Actually, I'm not even sure what we are now, physically. A Child, I suppose, given our body?
    Come to think of it, should we have asked Mother to give us a name? Our names are good for referring to us separately, but it will be difficult for people to refer to us together.


    "I suppose we are a...Child," she says glancing toward their Mother. "But a machine? I've heard about creatures like you from Numeria, but I never thought I'd see one in person...it's fascinating, I have to know how you function!" When he reaches out for her though, it takes an effort not to jump back. Still, she holds still and allows the machine's hand to stroke her cheek. "Yes, warm, I'm sorry that you can't feel it. But maybe if I had enough time to study and figure out how you worked I might be able to help you."
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  25. - Top - End - #25
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    Suldaim

    He waits as Death speaks to him and his ears listen but his mind doesn't. He just waits in space sitting there...like the worthless being he is. His name, his title, his soul...stripped from existence only to be restored by mother herself. Death's words begin to register to him now.

    Quote Originally Posted by Mornings View Post
    ...She doesn't know you like I do... You will never rest, you will never sleep. You would commit any act for the power you desire. The power that should be yours. The power that is rightfully yours. The power you were destined to wield. Your hunger will never abate... You will strive, for an eternity to surpass not your brother. Not the just the gods, of your little world. But even your Mother... even me. You will never cease. Your hunger never sated. Your thirst never quenched. Not until you are all. Til you are everything, and nothing within existence and probability can contest you...." She whispered in his ear. "Speak the words..... Speak the words, and I will show you the path to realize those aspirations. Speak the words, and I will make you the Demon, the Harbinger, the Vestal of Death you were always meant to be..."
    His new name already forgotten to him, he just floats effortlessly with no real destination. He opens his mouth to speak but he stops himself. he thinks before he decides to speak on this occasion. "Death... you see, I thrive to be strong, I almost NEED the power simply to live. Mother has taken everything from me now...everything i valued in life is gone due to her. You of all people should respect my decision to want to go about this alone attempting to regain my power on my own terms but it seems it is as that I have been reduced...reduced to such a state of dismay that I am here asking Death itself to help. So yes...death 'I accept The End'. Help me reclaim my former power! Help me exceed the expectations of an exiled son, an outcast, a banished child! I will kill in your name!"

  26. - Top - End - #26
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    The Garden: The Forgotten- The First Cycle
    Arc 0: ...The Last Light

    The Ending: Death, The Exiled Son
    As the demon-spirit accepts her offer, the binding contract to herself. She smiled, kissing the side of his face as if he was some physical being. "Mmmhm. Good boy. Smart boy.... But this..sad cursed little-soul just won't do... We'll have to make you a new one wont we? What good are if if you cannot cut off the head's of one of your Sisters, yes?" Soundlessly. A blinding motion. A wave of pain washed over him. She held him around the neck tightly from behind. He looked down to see her terrible black blade piercing his body. "Sweet dreams... Come back when you put yourself back together again..." Sh spun violently. The blade cleaving his form in half as easily as red-hot-steel through snow. His remains drifted quietly through space, beginning to dissipate into blue mists of light. She was gone.
    *****************

    She skipped along in The Garden merrily, while grabbing The Weaver from behind and kissing the back of her neck. "Oh, don't worry lovely. I haven't forgotten about you..." She pushed her off to the side, and walked towards the Seraph, wrapping her arms around his neck, and resting her head on his chest, giggling. " I'm so glad you're finally mine. Mhmhm..." The Goddess looked at The End with a displeased glare. "Must you always be so boorish? ...I've little tolerance for you sticking your hands in 'family matters' as well." The dark haired persona cackled somewhat diabolically. "Oh? Oh!? ...Dear Lady. It is not I that tossed your poor son aside. Disposed of him. Dropped him into the bin with the rest of the rubbish.... As they say. Another girl's trash, is another girl's treasure..." She smirked in the most arrogant manner possible. "...But after all Dear Lady. It was he who came to I. I am not so cruel it ignore the pained cries of such a broken soul~! " She threw her hand out dramatically, mockingly, with no sense of sincerity in her voice. She grinned devilishly. "...Besides.. Fair is Fair. Kill them. Eat them. Throw them away.... They all will be mine." she cast a menacing look upon all of them, except for the man she clinged to. "....All of them... in the end." She chuckled at her own play on words, putting her arms around the Seraph again, whispering into his ear. "..They're all so boring... so devilishly boring, but their death's? Ah... far more entertaining. Mhmm. I can see it all still... Yes. Just like the days so long ago. Upon that shattering world.. where seven arrows meet, and a great bull, a foul beast, and a veiled beauty come. They will all die... " She pulled him close kissing him. "...They know not suffering. No pain. No anguish. Foolish lost little souls unworthy of the life they possess among the lifeless.... Let them meet their fate. Let the black tides drown their pathetic delusions... Let them suffer, as you have suffered. Let them bleed, as you have bled. Let them know anguish and torment.... give them to me.. upon The Last Light. When the dark is eternal, and the sky's rays are no more. Do, this for me, my sweet angel... And I shall restore this Legacy. I shall do, what you.. what they, cannot even should you return. I will mend the un-mendable. Break, the unbreakable... For it is already too late for the Chosen, and the answers still lay within the Tenth..." She slid her hands off of him, while backing away. "No fate is written upon stone dear angel. But there awaits nothing for you their. Only Misery. Only The Hollowed, The Scourge, The Deathborne, and Her will... an elaborate hoax played upon those who would love you. A feint of a madman upon his blind brother. Within that place of shade, rain, and agony. There is no hope. There is no answer... For their is no petrichor to the Endless Night..." She turned away from him, walking back over to the Goddess, running her hands threw her feathered wings. A twisted smile upon her face. "My Dear Lady... oh, Poor Lady. You can see so far, yet are left deaf, and blind in one eye. You chose well, to raise my Seraph again... But are you so arrogant you cannot see the slaughter you usher your precious Children to? " She pointed at them each. " A disgusting creature, forgotten and abandoned, destined to bring about his own end.... A wondrous soul, blinded by her other half... A resourceful, failure of a Weaver who will only see torment when her eyes are opened... A fallen knight, who shall never rise again... And a Seraph, of my own hand..... Gladly will I accept your generous offering. I will not waste them as you have. Your blind faith is so bright, it shrouds the realities which your vision sets before you..." The Goddess swatted away her hands. The End chuckled, as if having dealt with an overly playful pet. "My obligation has been fulfilled. You've received my warning...." She looked to the Seraph, "....And you, my prophesy.... Now do what thou will. " She turned sharply on her hell, and was gone in a blanket of black mist. The darkness, the void that surrounded them, and devoured the forest that surrounded The Garden vanished... Death's Wake within The Garden, removed.

    The 7th Goddess of Night: Arias
    The Goddess sighed deeply, shortly regaining her composure. Before she acknowledged the words of the other two, she pulled The Magister close, and turned back towards the once again, robotic-entity upon the ground. "...My Children. Your 'People', are already perfect, lost Child. As were you, once. The Children shall always stand to defend life, and create Paradise, where my Children can live without pain, war, violence and tragedy." She placed a hand upon her Daughter's head. "...Your Sister. Is perfect, though perhaps, free-spirited. I do not ask, for your obedience for my aid, like some cheap broker of liberties. I ask... Will you stand once more V'Dri'Fel? Will you stand up once again, and defend your Brothers and Sisters. Will you muster the strength and conviction to protect that which we've made, and the resolve to create the Paradise that even the gods long forgotten have sought? I do not ask, for your service. This is no profession of arms to which I enlist you. I ask you, plainly and simply. Will you rise again V'Dri'Fel to forge the world, the Paradise in which your Family may live? Or will you run, and hide within that metal shell until The End claims you again? The decision is your own." She turned away from him, releasing her Daughter, after the intense speech to the broken machine.

    She looked down upon The Weaver as she spoke. Towering over her small frame. She raised a hand to interject. " Weaver. I deal honestly with you because you are my guest, and I am not such a deceitful-cur, as those you have met. That I have favor, nor disfavor towards you. That there is nothing I desire of you, unlike those who live upon falsehoods and forgeries to fabricate that which suites them, that they may manipulate you to fit their intentions. Know well, Weaver. You desire the protection of one of my Children. I would sacrifice you before I'd permit harm to any of my Children. We do not possess the same intentions. Nor would it be the justification of my courtesy even if we did. Not every soul you meet is such a diabolical weaver of misdirected truths, but there will be many, as their are many. So I ask not for your trust, nor your loyalty, and I do intend to share such as well. It would serve you far better, to trust none, and let such be won through time and strife. This is not such a kind world Young Weaver, and you possess what even a kind-man would struggle to resist stealing. Thus, if you wish not to become such a liability to my Daughter. I recommend keeping a sharp wit about you, as you are a danger enough to her already. You've inspired the interest of The End with my Daughter's gambit to break your Pact. I assure you. This is not a good thing. She will not stop until she breaks you, until you accept her. Or until she claims your life. The End is not a women of proportional retaliation, nor care for collateral damage she may inflict, or the disfavor she may incur while acquiring those things she desires dearly enough. Perhaps you will manage to defend my Child from those external forces that threaten you, but you cannot protect her from yourself, and as you are now. Your soul is not strong enough to bare the tax of becoming a Weaver, and baring the conscious will of those Forces and Aspects that will seek you. You will be destroyed, and your remains left to them. Should such a day ever come. I will end you myself, before you can harm my Child, or damage this Legacy any further...I hope I am perfectly clear."

    "There are few creatures, let alone men, who you can trust in this world, or any other you may cross. If you seek guidance and instruction, then seek Kirados, The Watcher of the North. It is not only his duty to aid The Chosen, but he owes his allegiance to me and my Children. You will find the Gate to his Tower should you leave The Citadel under the guidance of The Order. If you seek a man to train and instruct you with might-at-arms, then seek The Knight-Lord Executioner, Chris Black. Tell them I have sent you, and they will let you pass. You will find him at The Citadel."


    She smiled at her Child's words, as if a small child spoke about matters they knew nothing about. Filled with a small tinge of remorsefulness. " My dear-child. There are paths. Some dark, others terrible, which she must walk alone. Paths much like that Path of Desolation you have chosen, which no other may stand to lend their aid and support. It is a burden that cannot be shared. A burden that will accumulate and become stifling. It is not such an easy thing to bare the burden of a Weaver... To you dearest girl. I would bless. But I do not offer such to your friend. I offer nothing, and desire nothing from her." She waved her hand, The Magister's taking on the short appearance as she once held but still silvered. "...It is a needless alteration, but if you feel it suitable... very well. There is no need to question. what you are. You are my Child, but as one.. together. I shall name you Lu'naus'Fel. It has a sweet sounding ring to it I think, yet, also strong. Bound together, as a whole. I think it will suit you well."

    <Part 1> Replies are open while Part 2 is being posted.
    Last edited by Mornings; 2015-06-01 at 03:29 PM.

  27. - Top - End - #27
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    Lu'naus'Fel

    Glaring at Death, Eris and Kestal bite their tongue, electing not to say anything, though unable to hide their contempt for her due to her treatment of Nadia. Still, when she leaves, Eris can't help but be concerned. "What did she mean that the answers lie within the tenth? This is now the eleventh chapter, is it not? If what we need is in the past, how are we supposed to get to it?"

    Listening to their Mother's words, the pair nod, "'Lu'naus'Fel'...we like it, thank you, Mother...but I must ask...that language, we've learned a few phrases, but it's unlike anything spoken on Golarion. Would you be willing to teach us, when we have less pressing matters to attend?"

    Still, her thoughts turn toward the blessing that was offered. How could they not? Such is how the mind works. And though true, she desired to say yes, guilt won out in the end, and instead, Eris opted not to mention it aloud, merely thinking that It'd be disgraceful to ask for her Blessing when I already rejected one gift, even if only temporarily...
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  28. - Top - End - #28
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    Nadia Vorns, the Reborn Drake

    Nadia doesn't even stiffen as the End appears behind her.
    I am your toy no longer. And nor will I ever be.

    After the End has left, Nadia returns her attention to Arias.
    I did not expect to find such courtesy in this realm. You have my gratitude for being civil and reasonable. It is good to know that the world is not devoid of decency.
    When Arias speaks of what should occur if Nadia lost control, the winged woman chuckles.
    Good. Should I lose myself to the Forces that will act upon me, I was going to ask you to end me. I will already be gone should that happen. But I have no intent to allow myself to be lost so. I will find a way to control this potential.
    A small tear trickles down her cheek as she turns to the newly christened Lu'naus'Fel.
    A beautiful name for a beautiful woman. You are lucky to have a family that cares for you so. The last I saw of my family, my father was locking me in my room on the night before my wedding, and my brother was looking at me with horror and disgust as I landed in the courtyard when I fled.
    I follow a general rule: better to ask and be told no than not to ask at all.

    Shadeblight by KennyPyro

  29. - Top - End - #29
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    The Son of the Morning, The Son of Night, Seraph Of The End



    [Perception Check with True Sense]
    The Seraph takes in his new surroundings. The new appearance of Arias and the change in The Garden threw him off balance as it was vastly different from his last encounter here with her. He finally starts to make his approach to circle behind the other children. Before he sits down he walks to Nadia and Krestel’fel. “You two…” the word two drops from his lips with a-bit of anger like he was forced to do this. As he begins talk again he paces around them. “I’m taking responsibility for the both of your actions in order to save you from Death’s punishment. I’m fair and I think that I am more than charitable for doing that. Despite my history I’m not violent unless I have to be. So I’m only going to tell you two this once in the simplest way that I can so you can both understand this.” He bends over looking them straight in the eye. Both only a mere foot away from their faces. “Keep your bloody hands to yourselves. Unless you,” He looks straight at Nadia in the eyes and pointing at her. “Halt being in the services of Death. You’re in her service that means you follow her wishes. Unless you,” looking at Krestel’fel and then points at her. “Quit being what are you. Which is not going to happen for some time. Personally I don’t care what you two do. But I’m responsible for you two while you’re in the services of Mother or Death. So I will do that administration with the utmost care. Which while you both are also in their service it is also your job to make sure their needs are fulfilled. Remember that is your duty. That being said…I’m quite fond of both of you so do not screw up. It’s been to long since I had companionship on this path.” He stands by Nadia and Krestel’fel as the exchange begin between the Nelrin’fel and Mother begins. He lowers his eyes pulling his shadowy straw hat below his eyes. He knows any type of demand from mother like this especially with threatening betrayal will not end well…
    ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
    The Seraph holds his lowered gaze till Mother finally speaks to V’Dri’fel. The Seraph being addressed directly by Mother he finally speaks again. “Mother you know where my loyalty lies do not worry. I am in your service and I serve as your right arm until stripped of all that binds me to you. I will do as required for the family. We both know I have done far worse in my past lives simply to starve off my own end.”
    He watches as the reality’s shift and Nadia regains her soul and freedom as a Weaver, Krestel’fel regains her Dual-Soul and Valpurga gains a physical form. He lets out a laugh “Well then, I guess that whole talk was for nothing now I guess. Congratulations to both of you. It’s not often this kind of fragmentation turns out for the better.”
    ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
    He stood a little shocked as she jumped up wrapping his arms around him like a familiar lover. However he still accepts the embrace as he would not want to be rude to her. He still stands alive now because of her and his time in her void. He owes her at least his respect if not some sense of loyalty. He accepts her kiss and they share the embrace he looks her in the eyes using his true sense to find meaning to her words. As she begins to walk away. He smiles as he always does to keep his bearing. The strange prophecy badly foreboding on him. “Understand Miss while I do bear the title and privilege as The Seraph of The End. That privilege comes first and foremost from Dearest Mother Arias: The Seventh Goddess of Night. I do what I can in her service and yours. What their fates hold for them are their own choosing and not my own. However I still belong first and foremost to Mother I will carry out her will. The new chosen will not fail in the tasks to The Legacy and The Cycle like so many before them” He ponders it for the moment as Death finally leaves. “….what lies in the Tenth….mmm.” He lets it go for the moment there were other matters that needed to be addressed. He stands beside ‘Lu'naus'Fel.’ "A pleasure to have you Lu'naus'Fel."
    He finally turns to Mother looking up at her to give his request. “Mother, I request if they can have safe passage to The Citadel without my presence then please send me to where I can complete your second task to me and learn to master the technique of the Spiral Arms. I will reunite with my other ‘fel and chosen at The Citadel after this task is complete. We as a group are not ready to free Rosa’fel, The Chapter Angel from Mirren. She’s too powerful for any of us. Nor can I at this time complete your third task without such ability. Krey is too powerful for me alone.
    Last edited by Lazy Roman; 2015-06-01 at 06:15 PM.

  30. - Top - End - #30
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    The Garden: The Forgotten- The First Cycle Arc 0: ...The Last Light

    The 7th Goddess of Night: Arias
    "...Do not fret my girl. The End, is tied closest with the force that is Death. Her vision see's paths defined by those actions taken, those actions yet taken, the world line's fate, and the probability of destiny Fate defines. But she, as she is, is not complete. Her sight only can see one-half. The back of a man, but not his front, you might say... This does not make her prophesy no less dire. But she is not one to dance with words, or action, as you may have noticed. She only speaks of what she has seen. Fragments of a destiny that may be found, answers to questions, as they lay upon this hour. But what is now, is not what shall always be. For the future, your actions as The Chosen and the future alter and shift these possibilities, and these answers in time... However, this is not so when she speaks of The Knell. The End is attuned to it. The tolling ring of the bell to welcome the end of life. As it stands now. Death, not The End, see's the end of your lives within this place, 'where seven arrows meet'. This is not prophetic, this is a declaration, and it is The End's duty to tend to the will of The Knell. The destined 'time of parting' for all souls... She will come for you, and take you upon that hour, within that place... even if it must be by her own hand and blade. Unless you find such a way to alter your Time of Passing..." She raised a hand, placing it upon her Daughter's shoulder. "...You will be safe as long as you do not enter The Petrichor, for The Knell is by matter of circumstance, not time. Thus..... By my word and will... Lu'naus'Fel. I forbid you from entering The Petrichor, until your Death Knell is altered. I will not send my Daughter to her grave willingly."

    Spoiler: Absolute Command - Lu'naus'Fel
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    Command - Eris/Kestal, may not enter The Petrichor until the current conditions of The Death Knell are altered from their current state. Until such a condition is met. Eris/Kestal may not enter The Petrichor, willingly or unwillingly by any direct, or indirect means. Eris/Kestal's Prime Form, Prime Soul, Reflections, and/or consciousness linked or replicated from Lu'naus'Fel are incapable of entering The Petrichor.


    A light dimly glowed as the command took hold. She removed her hand. "...This is for your own good. Pursue a solution to alter these conditions Death has placed upon you and then... and only then, will you have my permission to venture forth into that dangerous place. I would sooner lock you away from such a place, then place you in that barbarous creature's hands. The End has never claimed any Child of mine. I intend to keep it as such." She turned away and sat as the other spoke, nodding briefly. " I am glad you are pleased with the name. It is a shame to hear of your family's strife, Weaver. However, all families come with their share of tragedy... and traitors. It is the way of things for the free-willed. I adore all of my Children, even those more rebellious... and colorful, for they are still my own. Still, there are times when a mother must deal with transgressions with a firm hand and correct such discourteous behavior. I can only hope your father thought he'd your best interest and future in mind when he did, what he did. It can be difficult to see such things, or worse yet, believe they are their when they are not...As for your future. It appears you are fated to die as well, by The End's own words. However, you are a Weaver. It is a small task to alter such before a proper Weaver, trained and honed. However, you do not possess the capacity to harness the potential you posses for the very same reason, you lack the capacity to embrace The End, as the persona she is. Such is the burden of your Blessing. Seek The Watcher of the North before you begin your training. Perhaps he may direct you properly, in honing your spirit and mind to allow you to step beyond the barrier that is your own existence." She looked at the Seraph blankly, un-amused, as if he had attempted to make a joke, or failed to catch a jest himself. "...Kal'Fel. Neither of those charges I have given to you are possible any longer. You have sadly, missed the opportunity. The Spiral Arms have been returned to Cross, who lives once more, and Krey has returned again with Sky's Ending. Both of their Legacies now complete. Both of which, returning to correct this Legacy as well. You have served me well. You have served your Brothers and Sisters... adequately enough. You have returned to me my sword, and thus did I name you as my Seraph, to The End. Protect your siblings, complete this Legacy, and fulfill your duty as Seraph, which does not include killing for The End. You are the witness and intervention between the souls of all, and Death. You will sit upon The Council when Judgement comes and The Call is issued by those who would judge the worlds still remaining. Be ever-watchful, and speak with measured words." She waved her hand. A vortex of light forming at her side. "Step into the light, and speak your destination if you are finished here. You will be brought to the place you desire." The goddess crosser her legs, placing her hands upon her lap patiently.
    ***********************************

    The Passing - The Truth
    The light of his spiritual remains separated, the light washing out into the vastness of space. Then he fell into darkness... There was no sound. No pain. No light. He stood before himself. Before Nelrin'Fel. He was full, strong bodied and proud. His skin was far, he was bare-chested and tall with long flowing hair and a wonderful crown of antlers protruding from his head, dark leathers wrapped about his waste, and dark cloth-like trousers. He was bare-foot and held a large fierce looking crimson spear. He chuckled looking at the old man. Asiresh, raised his hands before his own face. He saw the withered aged palms he was once so familiar with again. Nelrin spoke to him as if speaking to himself, a friend, a reflection. "...Well, we had a good run if nothing else. I did not expect that old man I met in a box within some dust-covered study to be worth my time, or my patience. Though in the end, we were the same, you and I. Perhaps... more so then I dare admit. However, it looks like our time, has come to an end... and I say, 'good riddance' !" He threw his spear to the side, and ripped off his antlers with a bloody and sickening crack. He through them to the side, blood rushing down his face, flying from his lips with each bitter word, as if it was a curse. " ...Suldaim. HA! ....Piss on that. To be named 'Shame'. To be labeled a traitor for our desire for restoration... for power. 'Dear Mother' made a mistake when she let us live... she forgot... I'm goddam Nelrin'Fel! " He paused, as if something came over him, his head slowly dropping to look at his own hands, as a sudden realization seemed to cross his mind. " Or... rather. I was... We were.... For awhile. A mere 8,000 years or so... a blink of an eye. Most of it spent locked away..." He looked up at the man before him. Who was not the old man he could remember. He was young and strong. He lifted a hand and ripped the long hair from his head like a wig, shedding the skin of the man he had been, like a snake as it dissipated into smoke. He looked down at his new hands, scarred, burned, hardened. He begun to laugh. They both did. "Hahaha... My.. Fate. Chance. Greed.... all such simple things, that have returned me here.. That have returned us here... but Death didn't know, she couldn't know, the gravity of her mistake... She does know us. We will never sleep. We will never rest. We will rise or fall to any act that suits us. But nor for power. No... Not for hunger. I need not strive for an eternity. For we already have... For I Was the strongest. I am the strongest. I was that man. I AM that man....." He raised up the black glass-like spear that was now in his hand to his face.



    He did not smile. He did not laugh. He looked on at the reflection within the blade. Out at the endless darkness. His white hair. "Yes... I remember now... what I had become. Who I had been. The Unbent, The Unbroken. Nalandis... First of The Slayers, creator of The Order, after Lord Ember's passing and Faeris rose to his rightful place as our Lord... Heh...Yes... I remember it now." Tears begun to run down his face. Tears ran down both of their faces, though the memories did not come to him, only the melancholy and bitter-sweet remembrance of times he could not recall like this man before him. "..Heh... Rebecca. She'd always make fun of me. 'Lord Tun'Tar'.... I can't for the life of me remember why.... why.......why.... I cast my spear through him. The Architect of the Void. I sacrificed....I left them all, as I stood upon the crumbling fore-mast of the Arcxis'Sol as she gave her life for me... As that boy... gods... what was his name..... as that boy fell back to the earth.... We became The Demon... Can't you see? Ikal'da? Can't you see!? ...All this time. ...All this time. We've been searching for it. The answer... The Mad God.... It was us. It is all of us. The Shards cast into The Chosen bore his essence, but it was we he returned completed when our spear struck that man down...... I repented. I tried. I took the Sword... I cut away the pieces. The Legacies, then shattered the blade. Broke it in two... Then I fell upon it's jagged point.... My salvation. My repentance. My reward.... I.. we, lived.... But it appears that even to be unmade and made new could not un-weave the sins I have committed... But you. Yes... You. You are my hope. My chance to try again. I will take upon myself this burden. I will bare this sin and consequence. Your soul has already been claimed by another, before Death..... A destiny. A hope lingers, that perhaps you may rise I as have. Not for yourself. Not for freedom. Not for glory. But simply because.... You are The Untamed. The Hunter. The Fury. The will of the natural world, seeking to unravel the damage I have carved upon it. So go.... Go, and be reborn anew. As I never can.." The form of Nalandis shattered into a great light. The luminescence filled and surrounded him. The Darkness was washed away. His body, washed away. Bleached in a stark white light that stole his vision.

    The Kiss of Winter
    The snow fell heavily. Lights of souls danced through the air in a strange, wild frenzy before a bleeding sky at dawn. He stalked through the thick snow upon all fours. He had not hands. He possessed claws. Paws, and tail. His massive frame hulked through the 4 ft dunes of frozen fluff without effort. He could not see himself, But he knew what he was. The image of his form seemed to reflect in his mind.



    He was a massive beast. An old grey wolf. His eyes were fierce and clear as ice. He stood 7 ft from paw to shoulder. A massive dire-wolf. He roamed through the forests, his home. He hunted, playing the endless game with the elk and deer. For so long he played his part. Stalking. Hunting. Eating. It was as if it was a sacred ritual. He could not know how many years it had been. He only knew what he was. The Spirit Wolf, Ikal'Daka. A name given to him by his precious friend, and God who ruled over this distant Wake with his wife.

    It was many years perhaps, before he wandered upon the edge of the forest. There he saw a familiar face. He rushed up to her and nuzzled her leg. It had been lifetimes ago. Times long forgotten, that had long since existed. But still, he remembered the face and scent of Luka very well. She smiled at him, kneeling in the snow, with her many scarves and deep green garments petting his thick fur coat. "So you finally came. I was wondering when I'd see you again." She gave the wolf a big hug around his neck, her arms unable to even meet on the other side of his massive body. "I knew it when we met. You were just like me... But Sif did not bless you. He recognized you as his own." She looked into his big sapphire eyes. "Ikal'Daka... I like it. I'm sorry I couldn't see you again. You see.... the first time I died. Ser brought me back, but I became her Vessel. I was so sad.... so angry. I didn't want to stay anymore. So she took me away with her... and now, we are one. Dear Ikal, you know you cannot stay here. You must return. You must return to The Hunt. You are the will of the Natural Order, The Forces, our hunger. Free and wild... So stand Ikal... Stand once more, as Wolfen." Her touch, brought a strange glow. The sky divided. The moon's rays shined down upon them both. His body changed, he stood upon both feet. His arms became ferocious weapons of rime and death. His maw, tow upon row of savage teeth. His body tightened, reforming, layers of muscle shifting like iron under his skin. An innate magic filling his breath and hands. He looked down upon his massive claws. He stood at his full height of 12 ft, towering above the half-elf. His shoulder's were broad and bulging with tendon and coiled tension. He lashed out with a claw behind himself. A gleam of light flowing from his claws. He howled triumphantly to the moon. Luka placed her hands on his back, resting her head against his fur coat. "See? Isn't this so much better? This is what it is to be a Bright Soul. A natural soul. To be blessed by my love, my husband... To be Wolfen. Come now... We've much to do."

    Spoiler: OOC - Ikal'Daka
    Show
    -Gained Bright Soul
    -Kiss of Winter expended
    -Blessing: The Kiss of Winter
    -Racial Spirit/Race: Wolfen
    -Nelrin'Fel SLA's converted to 'The Exiled Son' (Soulbound Ability)
    -Istovet Nacta; Re-linked with soul




    *** Ikal'Daka Has Left The Game

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