[i] [centre] [h1] [color=red]Vakarlon the Trickster[/color] and [color=violet]Vulamera the Scribe[/color] [/h1] Flawlessly collaborated by [@Mardox] and [@Hael] [/centre] [/i] [hider= The Summariest of Summaries] -Vulamera and Vakarlon talk philosphically for a while -Vulamera attempts to access Vakarlon's memories, and is greeted with a bunch of creepy fire and destruction. She's pushed out of his mind by a foreign force that is not Vakarlon's or hers. -Vulamera tries again and unlocks memories and visions. -During the visions, Vulamera is reminded to pursue knowledge above all else and Vakarlon learns how he became a god. -Vakarlon decides to do Fate's bidding and they both faint at the end of visions. [/hider] Vulamera released her hold of him while she eyed Vakarlon carefully, seeming to consider and judge every aspect of him. She had a curious- but faintly paranoid- light in her gaze, which timidly suggested that she didn't fully believe the Liar's words. How could she? Trickster was in his very title! After what must have felt like an eternity, the Scribe spoke: [color=violet]"Hmmm... memories of a career? A family?[/color] She shook her shadowy head, smiling all the while. [color=violet]"I must admit, brother, I've never heard of a God with a career of tricking nobels. Your life- it sounds far more similar to one a mortal would have... ...of course, how could I possibly know that? There have been no sentient mortals. None whatsoever. I suspect all deities- myself included- have faded, drifiting memories of extraordinarily different lives. Otherwise, I could not have known what a mortal is, or what sort of lives they lead. Or led?"[/color] She shook her head again. [color=violet]"In contrast to yourself, I've had but a single memory that I do not recall experiancing. It occured to me upon my birth, deep in the void-before-world.[/color] Her tone drifted away introspectively, allowing Vakarlon a brief oppurtunity to get a word in edgewise. Vakarlon understood the caution Vulamera showed at the beginning. Some might worry this was a cruel joke to give the goddess hope that knowledge was not her pursuit alone. However, his intentions were pure in this endeavor. Upon Vulamera's pause, he spoke regarding the points she had brought up. [color=red] "I have had legions of memories, but most of these are ones that are incomplete and brief and feel as if I am an observer rather than one participating in the memories. Only the ones that make me feel as if I lived the life of a mortal are solid and complete, those and the destructive ones. I feel like a completely different being in the destructive memories but the ones where I am seemingly mortal feel as if they are my own." [/color] Vakarlon stroked his chin in thought. [color=red] "You mentioned different lives. Perhaps the two sets of memories are indeed from very different people but still mine. What memory did you have in the void?" [/color] Vulamera's head lifted up suspiciously, [color=violet]"Hmmm. Visions of resting on a massive beach, with the sun setting overhead. I somehow knew that the world was ending, and I- or whoever the subject of my memories was- refused to leave it behind. It was short, but has since left a strong impression on me that I cannot forget. Unfortunately, said vision came alone; I've had no other flashbacks. "We'll discover nothing but boredom this way, however. Intelligent discussion is an invaluable resource, although in a situation where we know absolutely nothing, speaking of it leads only to more nothing. [b]We must[/b] experiment. Tell me, Trickster, would you be opposed to allowing me a short study into your mind? It could, perhaps, allow us to find the source of these memories..."[/color] Vakarlon was taken aback by the request to see his mind. His first instinct was to instantly refuse but he quelled it quickly. He needed that knowledge. The cost was unimportant. [color=red] "By all means. It would seem the quickest route to acquiring more knowledge on the subject. Is there any procedure I should follow?" [/color] [color=violet]"No, I don't think so. Of course, this will be my first time trying it on a willing subject!"[/color] A faintly mad chuckle escaped her lips. [color=violet]"None of your siblings have been brave- or insane- enough to offer me a look so far, except Vestec. But don't worry, don't worry, you'll probably be perfectly safe! I'm honestly the one among us in the most immeditate danger during these procedures."[/color] Before Vakarlon was able to voice any objection, his mindful sibling was already dissipating to her typical intangibility. Her body faded away like mist in a wind. In a few short moments, the Transcendent Mother was once more entirely invisible, untouchable and indetectable to any who did not share their divine blood. Typically you don't see mist on moons without atmosphere. Nonetheless, however, mist [b]did[/b] appear: quite suddenly, in fact, as the Goddess's powers begin to work their magic. Vakarlon's mind spun around dizzingly, a hissing sound filled the air, and a probing force was felt within his psyche- the force of Vulamera, who felt overly confident in her abilities. All seemed calm at first. The Shadow of Revelations was at ease, certain that this would be a simple task. But then she felt something [b]wrong.[/b] Not just strange like Jvan's mind, or obsessive like Toun's, or even insane like Vestec's, but [b]wrong.[/b] Something inside the Trickster that swirled like a whirlpool of lost memories, pulling Vulamera closer and closer into it's grasp. [i]A wave of vengeful heat blew into Vulamera's mind. She felt as though smoke was filling her lungs. She was suffocating, weeping and dying all at once. Sociopathic laughter echoed through the burning air. Was that Vakarlon's laughter? Was he doing this all to her? Flames flickered brightly into life, grabbing at her heels. The fire transformed itself a hand, which clawed mercilessly for her soul. It pulled her still-beating heart out, her eyes grew weak, and all fell black...[/i] --- If Vulamera had a throat, she would have gasped for air. Gradually, the vivid, fiery hallucinations receded, but the Goddess was still left stunned. No words could aptly express the sheer terror of those visions, despite that she felt it only right to attempt explaining to Vakarlon what had occured. [color=violet]"Di-did you fe-feel that? Horrible. While attempting to draw out your memories, I sensed some presence within you that can only be described as 'alien' to any I have sensed before. I'll admit, pursuing its call was,[/color] she struggled a bit to get the word out, [color=violet][b]foolish[/b] of me.[/color] Vakarlon shook as Vulamera entered his mind. He too sensed the flames and laughter. However, unlike Vulamera he was unharmed by them except for sharp pains in his head and his distress was due to the surprise. He felt a strange instinct telling him that for him the flames were somehow chained and held captive within his mind. Out loud he said "I'm fine. I sensed the presence and it wished to harm me but other than some minor pain it could not." Suddenly the Trickster doubled over as his head searing with pain. "Ah! There it is!" His head felt as if fires had been lit within and a beast was rampaging about within. The presence, rather than laughing at him, howled in rage. Vakarlon gritted his teeth and willed the pain to die down. Surprisingly, it did. "There is some sort of presence within. Something trapped and not friendly. It matches in how it feels with the destructive memories." [color=violet]"I see. My sympathies."[/color] No legitiment concern for her brother pervaded Vulamera's tone. At this moment, she had finally dropped most of her diplomatic ruse, and was now like a detached psychiatrist diagnosing her patient. [color=violet]"My friend, I cannot cease with this mystery so unsolved. If I did, the knowledge of what has happened to me here would never allow me to rest. I believe I may be able to force both of our otherworldly memories out of their hiding, if you will allow it."[/color] Vakarlon looked at Vulamera in surprise. They had both just endured serious pain and no doubt woken some monstrous creature within him. She truly was dedicated to the pursuit of knowledge. He was inclined to let her try again but he worried the Fiery One Within would grow stronger if she kept meddling. Wait a minute, was that fear he just felt, trying to prevent him from reaching the truth? Unacceptable. The Fiery One Within was chained and would probably stay that way even if disturbed. Vakarlon sighed. The truth would badger him if left undiscovered and the Fiery One would vex him regardless. Besides, if he learned the truth, he might be able to dispose of the Fiery One. He grimaced and said. "By all means, keep trying so that the mystery may be solved for both of us and the more curious of our peers. However, I must ask you to try not to encourage Serandor too much..." Vakarlon had trailed off realizing that he had no idea how he suddenly knew the Fiery One's name. "By Fate! I think you may have already done something! I remember the Presence's name now! We must press on! Answers could be just within our reach!" [color=violet][i]He truly desires knowledge,[/i][/color] Vulamera privately thought to herself with more than a little surprise. [color=violet][i]It is conceivable that I have grossly and extraordinarily misjudged his nature! For what Great One besides I has ever revealed an interest in more than their own disgusting passion? [/i][/color] Her vision narrowed, and a more cynical part of her mind spoke out. [color=violet][i]"No. No. It is not so. Be not decieved by his false woe! He is only doing this for himself. Knowledge means less than naught to the Child Gods- he wishes to understand only to exploit that understanding. His wisdom will never be genuine. I am only dreaming, and I must wake myself before that dream consumes my practicality.[/i][/color] Even with these thoughts of betrayal winding in her mind, the Goddess knew what she must do- the thirst for truth was in her veins. Regardless of this particular being's alignment to the Mind, she must seek truth were it could be found, and right now it could be found in Vakarlon. The deep mist gathered up again, now occasionally pulsating with spots of distrusting light. One could almost suspect that multi-coloured fireflies had taken up refuge within. As if to reinforce that metaphor, a buzzing sound like a hundred insects began to sound off. Louder and louder and louder it grew, till soon it felt like a drill burrowing into their skulls. Then it grew louder still. And with every increase in volume, reality became more blurred. What is real and what is not-real mixed, fusing together like spilled paint. Memories of lives gone by slowly unfurled themselves in that place... [hr] The memories that came were of Vakarlon's apparent mortal life. Quickly, they came, highlighting important events and details. They were first innocent ones where Vakarlon was an inquisitive child. Unfortunately, he had been born in a society where the nobility kept tight control over who was educated in order to retain power. As the youngest of six on a farm, he had no hope of inheriting (unless some tragic accident befell his dear siblings but such things were best left to the nobility). His habits of mischief due to stifled curiosity ruined several apprenticeships. Eventually, no one would take him on. His choices were very limited as his physical capabilities and inclinations were not towards violence thus ruling out being a soldier, bandit or anything similar. On his sixteenth birthday, he received his inheritance (his father did not die, it was more a coming of age thing). It was an old donkey and a wagon that had seen better days. However he also received inspiration. With what money he had from odd jobs, he fixed up the wagon and bought a few bottles and colorful liquids. With these few things, he set out on the road as a traveling "elixir" salesman. Since he had a conscience to some extent, he never targeted the common folk who had little and often gave them whatever help he could. The Nobility however, he deceived with near righteous passion. Since the nobles did not want to look foolish, the word of his deception only spread among the common folk who held him dear. As such, he had to leave each area after tricking the nobles there but word of him never beat him to potential customers. Eventually, he married his childhood sweetheart Nasya and had a family. Together, they traveled new lands and made their way in the world. All was good.... For a while. One day, there heard news of terrible destruction in far away lands. A Destroyer God of Fire was laying waste to the world for his amusement. This Dark Deity was named Serandor. Vakarlon tried to flee with his family to safety. It only delayed the inevitable. One day, he went to a town to buy supplies alone since the wagon would be recognized. When he returned, he found that his loved ones had been murdered by cultists of Serandor. Grieving, and without a way to continue scamming nobles (even if he wanted to), he did the only thing he could and joined the resistance. The resistance won a few battles against cultists. However, the moment Serandor faced the brave mortals himself, their army crumbled. The Dark God rampaged gleefully through the ranks of the mortal rebels. He swung a massive fiery axe with one hand, ending the lives of columns of soldiers in a single blow. When the rebels surrounded him and charged in unison, Serandor simply willed most of them out of existence. It was then that the rebels realized the terrible truth: Serandor had allowed them to assemble and win a few battles against his cultists for the same reason a cat tormented its prey with false hope. The valiant resistance was but an amusement to Serandor. Those who still could fled in panic. Vakarlon was one of the few survivors who escaped the slaughter. Disillusioned and knowing that mortals had no chance of defeating Serandor, he did the only thing he could. He prayed to whatever gods were out there, hoping someone, anyone would hear his plea and save the mortals.Serandor was not struck down, nor did a god come to fight him but Vakarlon discovered that a sword had appeared in his camp. Believing that it was from the other deities, he took up the sword which was warm with ancient power and walked to a hill overlooking Serandor's encampment. There, he called out a challenge "Serandor! Dark God of Fire and Death! I challenge you to a duel! Will you face a mere mortal with blade alone or are you a coward?" This challenge quickly drew Serandor's attention and since he was bored of a lack of any proper challenge and did not wish to look like a coward due to his pride, he accepted even though he knew there had to be a catch. So, the two met on a mountaintop and fought with their blades. Serandor wielded a blade of dark metal with spikes and decorations meant to intimidate. Vakarlon wielded a blade that looked like one that any soldier might fight with. The two fought and since Serandor had unnatural skill due to his godhood and Vakarlon seemed to have acquired similar prowess after picking up the blade, the fight dragged on. They seemed evenly matched for a while as Serandor did not see the fun in using his divine powers to simply strike Vakarlon down. Unfortunately, Serandor was still a god and Vakarlon a mortal. They fought for hours and eventually Vakarlon began to tire while Serandor could endure for an eternity if need be. Soon, Serandor took the opportunity and disarmed Vakarlon and shoved him onto the ground. Proud and boastful, he demanded "Any last words, oh charlatan?". Vakarlon actually smiled at this. It was the chance he needed, almost as if it were meant to be. He replied "Not yet." With that, he used his feet to strike the Dark God in the fork of the legs. Serandor stumbled in pain and Vakarlon rolled with speed and agility not possible for a mere mortal, but more akin to one who had been blessed by something mightier than the Fiery One, over to where his sword was and plunged it through the Fiery One's dark heart. Black liquid gushed from the wound and flowed into a puddle in the ground that would not sink away into the hungry earth. Then, Serandor's body turned to ash and drifted away. Exhausted from his endeavor despite the strength that he had received from some great power, Vakarlon collapsed in a heap. Regrettably, the cultists were still nearby. They seized Vakarlon and chained him to a chair. However, their intent was not so simple as to merely kill the man who had slain their god. Serandor was slain but not destroyed. With the last of his ability, he had preserved his essence above ground and by speaking without sound had told his highest priest to gather the black blood for a very special purpose. Once Vakarlon awoke, he was confronted with a silver goblet. Within it was the black blood of Serandor. His very unholy essence. His distilled soul. With horror, Vakarlon realized that the cultists intended to give their Dark Master a new body: his. They pried his mouth open and poured the liquid down his throat. It scalded on the way down as the Fiery One entered what he thought to be his new body with dark glee. Once it was down, Vakarlon's eyes turned to pools of darkness and flames surrounded him. However, the consumption of Serandor's soul did not have the effect that the cultists and their master desired. What none of them had realized was how Vakarlon had managed to vanquish a god. No mere mortal could do this alone. An entity beyond the power of deities had given Vakarlon the sword and the strength to use it. This blessing was upon Vakarlon still and gave him the strength to retain control of his body and consume rather than be conquered by the soul of the Dark God that had been forced down his throat. By will of Fate, Vakarlon was victorious twice against Serandor the Destroyer. Vakarlon howled with a fury he had never known before "I am Vakarlon still! You who meant to resurrect the Destroyer have only brought about your own deaths!" With that, he set the whole camp ablaze with unholy flame. That was where the memories ended. Vakarlon looked up at Vulamera with shock in his eyes. [color=red] "I remember who I am now. I thank you for this but the other mysteries are yet to be solved." [/color] With that, he fell silent. He contemplated who he had been... And how he became a god. He was not so arrogant to believe it was his own doing but rather thanked Fate now that he knew how he had defeated Serandor. They had saved his world and answered his pleas. He swore inside that he would see Fate's will done in this new universe. As he thought this, he slipped into blackness as the tide of memories and the ferocity of Serandor took their toll upon him. [hr] [i] Vulamera was also struck with visions, but they were different, to say the least. Her's did not come in a practical, organized way. To the contrary, she was assualted with snatches of water-color pictures and sounds, each followed by a voice strangely like her own. [color=purple]"Vulamera..."[/color] The voice spoke, and a disorienting flash of light gave way to the image of an elderly scholar, pouring over a thick, ancient tome. She was eternally on the verge of a great discovery that would change all of history. With every passing year, however, she came closer to death and no closer to understanding. The woman strove for it, thirsted for it, but never found it. [color=purple]"...be not afraid. Know this..."[/color] The scholar's body wasted away over the tome, and like a speck of dust, all her accumulated knowledge left with her. There was no more of her wisdom. Family came to lower her into the ground, where worms would pick at skull, eating away at a mind that once came close to shaking the foundations of society. [color=purple]"...your mind, for all it's potential, is finite. Do not be decieved when you are told..."[/color] Years went by while the scholar's body decayed beneath the world. In time, her family forgot her, and soon they too passed, and were forgotten by their families. In the blink of an eye, it was as though she never once existed. [color=purple]...that Gods are superior. All lies. We are each but links in a vast chain, stretching across many universes. I am a past version of you; I am Vulamera, and we are both like that woman: on an ever-lasting search for knowledge that will fade away in an instant. It took me untold trillions of eons to discover this simple truth, that we- the Gods- are nothing. We create our worlds, claiming them as our own, never to realize that it all means naught. Please, I beg of you, learn this. Let go of your petty diplomacy with the children, forget your allegiance to order, cast aside your wasted arguments with Jvan, and devote yourself to true knowledge before it is too late. Otherwise, you too may fade away with the scholar."[/color][/i] The vision ended, and Vulamera fainted. [hider= Mighty Summary of Mighty Might] -Vulamera used one might to unlock their memories. 7 MP, 2 FP left. -Vakarlon sat there and did nothing. [/hider]