[center][h3]Priest, Demon, Spirit[/h3] [b][color=0072bc]Vizier Ventus, Majordomo to Zephyrion, Most Supreme of All Djinn Level 10 Hero 23 Khookies[/color][/b] & [color=Tan][b]King Akthanos[/b] Priest-King of the Firewind, Lord of Vetros, Sovereign of the Vetruvian Kingdom, Zephyrion's Prophet Fifth Ruler of the Primurid Dynasty[/color] and his son, [color=SkyBlue] [b]Prince Heru[/b] Scion of the Firewind, Eran Ambaragbed, Grand General of Vetros Heir to the Sands beneath the Stars [/color] & [colour=f6989d][b]Heartworm[/b] Level 5 Avatar 8.25 Might[/colour] [/center] Through an open window there shone a ray of the brightest midday sun. It fell upon Akthanos' face and finally roused him from his long slumber. To wake to the sweltering desert sun rather than the cool morning breeze took its toll on him already. Pain from his fall the day before also taxed him, though that all too familiar ache of his bones had subsided. He knew that to be the work of Yara. Her healing magic had no doubt saved his life, and through means incomprehensible to his own mind, it had been as if she had given him back a few years of his long life. He would have to strive to find value in each extra day. So with that thought to compel him, he finally rose from his long slumber. He groggily touched his face, and though he thought the wrinkles slightly lessened, his beard was still scraggly and unkempt. He reached to his bedside for the King's Law, for he brought that scepter with him even when he went to wash his face and groom his hair in the mornings. It was with alarm that he found the King's Law missing, but then memories returned to him. In Yara's temple he had fallen, and then he had sent the King's Law to Heru. With some relief he sighed, for it was well that Lord Zephyrion's vessel was held by a prince of Vetros and not some wretched thief, but he still saw a darker part of himself: though it defied logic and defied his trust and love for his own son, a part of him was undeniably envious and fearful that his son held the King's Law, even if it had been only for the night and this morning. Though it was natural for a son to take up his father's mantle and eventually surpass him, no father wanted to see the day come that their own son claimed their power! But alas, Heru was not the man that his misguided brother had become, and so the Priest-King was sure that the prince would return the King's Law. So Akthanos hurriedly made himself presentable, and then his own anxiety drove him towards his son's mansion. Heru was destined to one day become the Priest-King of all Vetros and take up residence in the palace above Zephyrion's grand temple; however, until that day came he was the city's grand general. With the soldiers and nobles he spent his days and broke his fasts, and near their barracks and manors he dwelled in a small mansion of his own. It was a beautiful and serene home near the riverbank of the sacred Mahd, but of course Heru did not spend much of his time in the shade of trees admiring that view and tranquility. Instead he stood in the open sun, dressed in a warrior's garb, drilling men and sparring to hone his own skills. It was in the middle of an open field that Akthanos found his son engaged with his captains in some debate of military strategy. Off to the side, a hundred warriors practiced their formations and marching orders. "The Priest-King! Hail to Your Holiness (forever may you live)!" one of the captains called out. The others noticed immediately after, and then so too did those warriors that had seemed so engrossed in their drills. They all feel to their knees before Akthanos, and even though Heru was prince, he too averted his gaze and looked to the ground before adressing his lord father. Akthanos smiled with pride at his son, but then that look began to fade and instead became one of angst. "Beloved father," the scion began, "you must forgive me for not paying you visit this morning. It is a bad son that does not go to his father for blessing and counsel in dire times such as these. I praise you and the Master for delivering our city from Y'Vahn's horror!" The Priest-King looked to those captains by his son's side, the lot of them still on their knees. "Rise my honorable soldiers, protectors of the city and all that is sacred. You do me honor with your praise, but as a father, I ask for a moment alone with my son." The captains were on their feet again at once, and in short order they ordered the other soldiers assemble and marched off to leave Akthanos and the prince alone in that vast field. "The King's Law," Akthanos began the moment that he sure no others could hear, "where have you stowed it?" Confusion first seized command of Heru's expression, but then the implications set in and then there was only panic. "The King's Law? My hands have never known its touch! Do you mean to say that it is lost?" Akthanos was known to be many things: wise, just, patient. Above all else, his calmness in the face of evil or adversity and his unwavering temperament made him the image of stocism. But in a moment all of that was gone, and he instantly broke down. Grief and confusion and fear swept over and through him, and first he glared at Heru and thought his own son a liar. That lasted perhaps a second before he looked upon his son's face and knew that Heru could never lie. He collapsed onto his knees then, already past his denial, and fell into what could only be called grief and despair. He had ordered the King's Law to deliver itself into Heru's hand, and yet it was nowhere to be found. Had another being stolen it, or had Zephyrion thought him unworthy and revoked his blessing? Either option would bring doom upon Vetros and all the Holy Land; to lose control over the King's Law was not only to lose their fortune and their power, it was to lose the Master's trust and favor. It was to reject the one that had given them everything and demanded only reverence in turn. It was then that Akthanos knew: his first suspicions had been correct! Anger flooded through his once calm body and made him shake. He looks to the heavens and howled a gutteral and indecipherable stream of words, cursing Yara the witch, Yara the liar, Yara the betrayer. She was no priestess of Zephyrion! To consort with her was to spit upon Zephyrion; surely that was why the Master would have taken back the King's Law? Heru, meanwhile, could look on with nothing more than outright shock. To see his father reduced to such a state was traumatizing enough, but Heru too was a pious man, and he similarly understood what were to happen if the King's Law had been lost. After a moment, Akthanos regained his composure, and he was utterly still. It was almost unnatural and terrifying to see how calm he had become, but when he put on steady hand upon Heru's shoulder and his son looked into his eyes, that calm spread as if a contagious plague. "I think I know what has happened," Akthanos whispered, and he explained all of those thoughts that he had just harbored to his son. Heru's face hardened, and at last it was he that whispered, "Then we must kill her and burn her temple, to set things right once more." It was then that there came another hushed breath, though this one was from neither the priest nor the warrior. It came from the wind itself. [i]"Cease your madness,"[/i] it bid them. They both swung their heads to look towards the source of that voice, and lo and behold, from the dust upon the dry ground and from the twisted winds, there appeared the body of a djinn. [center][img]https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/47/a3/66/47a36631f3a5a5099e56dfe432d3a5d8.jpg[/img] [i]Imposing though it be, this whirlwind was clearly but a messenger for the Master of all Djinn and Men, or perhaps one of his great Skylords.[/i][/center] [i]"The King's Law was not claimed back by the Master, nor was it snatched by some thief. Nay, 'Priest-King' Akthanos, 'twas you who delivered it into the hands of a man unworthy and wretched. You would do well to claim it once more, before its power may be misused,"[/i] the djinni continued. "I? You say 'twas I?" Akthanos stammered, "Nay, it cannot be. I commanded it go to my son!" [i]"Aye, and so it did."[/i] The prince and the king shared one look of bewilderment and confusion, then stared at the djinn almost accusingly. The face inside the writhing dust devil stared back as impassively as it had been the whole time, utterly adamant and unwavering in the face of their skepticism. Then understanding struck the two of them, and then horror. The djinn recognized that in their faces, and knowing that its work was done, it dissipated into thin air as quickly as it had come. Y'Qar had the King's Law. He was many things: a brother to Heru and a son to Akthanos, loved by both. And yet they had both seen the darkness that had grown in him even as a youth, and they knew well of the envy and hate that spread through his being and corrupted him like a tumor. They had not rejected him, but he had rejected them and Vetros. He would not yield the King's Law willingly, and they both knew that. So it was decided that Heru would lead a band of the kingdom's greatest warriors to track down his brother and bring the sacred artifact back. The city itself depended on that, and Akthanos was far too old to undertake such a quest. Deep down, he also knew that he lacked the stomache to trade blows with his own flesh and blood. He would stay in Vetros and do what he could to prevent knowledge escaping of the scepter's loss, for to know of such a calamity would bring chaos and panic to the god fearing people. While his son chased Y'Qar to the edges of the world, Akthanos would remain in Vetros to hold the people together. And while he did that, he would also ensure that Y'Vahn could not strike in their time of weakness! [hr] When evil came for you, it could be rejected and repelled, beaten back and forgotten for a time. But it could not be rooted out and banished forevermore. To do that took a braver sort of man, one who was willing to seek out the evil and fight it in its vile source. That was the only way to rid the world of its touch. So while Y'Vahn's [i]message[/i] (if it could even be called such, for it seemed as much a taunt!) was clear, Akthanos was nonetheless fearful. [i]'To the Mangroves,'[/i] Y'Vahn had written in an unholy message of blood and misery, [i]'down the Mahd.'[/i] As fate would have it, some touch of sacred wind seemed to have touched some of the city's shipwrights. Where before they had built simple rafts and paddleboats, now the Master had implanted in their minds the designs of mighty ships that would be perfect for just such an endeavor. That seemed a clear enough indication of what the Master wanted: Akthanos was to accept Y'Vahn's challenge and confront it in its own lair. It might be his final journey, and he yearned to touch the King's Law just once more before he died, but deep down he knew that it was just this sort of feat that would make him worthy of those days that he had held the King's Law. It was not just that his sun held the burden of the world upon his shoulders as he sought to reclaim the King's Law, whilst Akthanos himself rested in luxury. No, he would maintain order in Vetros just as he had promised Heru, but to do so he would have to leave and hunt down Y'Vahn. The passing of the past months had given him ample time to ruminate upon such matters and reaffirm those thoughts, and in that time those shipwrights blessed with divine knowledge had toiled tirelessly. Their marvels of engineering, their masterpieces, were at last complete, and so without further trepidation (for he had prayed a dozen nights and steeled his resolve many days ago) Akthanos boarded one of the ships with some of the city's warriors and a few other holy men. Then, they set off down the Mahd, a great crowd of Vetruvians seeing them off from the riverbanks. [i]'All those people have me in their prayers,'[/i] Akthanos thought to himself as the silhouette of Vetros slowly faded into the distance, [i]'but my son needs it more!'[/i] It was frustrating and horrible that Heru had to work in secrecy, yet it was for the best. That was another reason that Akthanos had embarked on this expedition: it would draw attention away from how their prince had seemingly disappeared from the public view overnight. Akthanos had already lied and said that Heru was sick, that he was on a pilgrimmage to the great Firewind Resort, that he was praying in seclusion...but there were only so many excuses to be made before skepticism would grow. Now he simply hoped that a diversion would enough. But enough of that! The Priest-King banished such thoughts from his mind, for they were only a distraction and he knew that troubling himself over his son's wellbeing would bring neither of them any good. Now, he had a task of his own, and he owed it to the Master to dedicate his every ounce of spirit and strength to that sacred mission. So with a burning fervor, Akthanos stared ever onwards down the river. There he stood vigil like a statue, looking for the signs of Y'Vahn's lair. In due time, they came. Neither obvious nor negligible, for the demons most feared are ever the most variable, the ones who are brute in one moment and subtle schemer in another. Beyond the mountainous Groves of the Lost, from which no being returned, there was cloud, trapped by the craglands and forced into heavy mist. The first omen was one of sound. Its lack, and its presence. Shouts were eaten by the whiteness, and the ships were forced to align prow to stern and light lanterns so as to stay in touch. As the comfort of the human tongue grew weaker, others, very slowly, began to take its place. Creakings, gnashings, writhings, strange [i]twangs[/i] and crackles like no creature wrought by any good god. Some were so close their source felt only an inch from the ear, making grown men twist in fright. Others were quiet, but so distant that their source surely must be monstrous in size. More still spoke of unseen vastnesses in the black water, following their ships like curious toys. The first living things were felt only in sudden [i]slickenings[/i] of exposed skin. Soldiers looked down to find spots and lines of glisten on their arm, quickly rubbed off only to be replaced by a nauseous rash. Most of the passengers on deck and below had been 'bitten', or licked, for lack of a better word, by the time they grew numerous enough to be perceived with the eye in strong lamplight. Flurries of transparent strands, disks thinner than hair, mindless and hungry. Others. More. A blind sage claimed to hear the sound of the worm-trees walking. An undisciplined oarsman cast a handline only to be pulled against the hull with the force of an ox. Akthanos alone among men could perceive the flickers of things blurring around the trees in the corner of his eye, their numbers ever rising. Here, nature was backwards. Here, human normality was cast aside as foreign. And Akthanos alone heard the voice. [colour=f6989d]"It's not with you."[/colour] "No," came his level response, "it is with my son. The Master's light must not fall into your clutches." [colour=f6989d]"Overwhelming force dissuades negotiation. The Emaciator can speak freely with Priest-King Akthanos."[/colour] No spectacle, no suddenness. The mists before him simply thinned enough to reveal the body of Y'Vahn as it rose from depths in all its hollow artificial splendour. It hovered, its passage imperceptible, defying its stillness to keep pace with the flagship as if both it and the Vetruvian lord were equally stationary above the black water. Its stance was meditative, perfectly symmetrical, and seated, though it only had two limbs- Its fingertips were touching as if steepled, and its hooves pressed together. Above these gangly arms, only a sleek grey visor, its rim studded with insect eyes. Seated, it was no taller than a man, and its presence was far from godlike. When the mists thinned before them, the creature that emerged was far from the horror that they had imagined. Nonetheless, those warriors and those holy men in Akthanos' ship looked upon that beast and at once took to arms. They held spears, vials of holy water, and torches to throw at their adversary, yet Akthanos waved them down. Were he any other man, they might have killed him for that, or at the very least though him to be corrupted by J'Vahn and in need of exorcism; however, this was the Priest-King, and the Lord of the Firewind was known to be uncorruptible and righteous in all things. So his word was law, and they lowered their weapons in obedience. For now. "For what purpose did you demand we come to this dark land, and what say ye in defense of your attack upon my city?" [colour=f6989d]"Accelerationism."[/colour] A pause. Something [i]c-c-c-cracked[/i] in the distance. [colour=f6989d]"The Mahd stretches only from northwest curve of the Ironheart to the Shimmering Sea. Firewind desert still significant barrier to free human movement. Latter obstacle grows irrelevant in face of increased Vetruvian resilience. King's Law also. Former has been eliminated."[/colour] The clipped speech was unmistakably directed at the Priest-King's demand, but the connection was difficult to place. [colour=f6989d]"Close of Akthanos's reign opens Heru's. Vetros stands at the verge of imperial expansion. This world is yours."[/colour] The nonsensical drivel that initially came as J'Vahn's response was overshadowed by what it said at the end. The close of his reign? Was that a threat? "You speak in riddles, nay, in tongues. I have answered your summons not out of obedience for your dark will, but to bring you to answer for your heinous assault upon Vetros!" In its first movement of any kind so far, and with the painstaking pace of a being trying to make itself clear to its lessers, Y'Vahn raised one of its arms and waved away the accusation with a flick of its wrist. [colour=f6989d]"Irrelevant."[/colour] [colour=f6989d]"Akthanos fails to gain perspective. Thus explain to Heartworm for the sake of your own clarity. Reign of Heru will be prosperous and mighty. Where shall he direct the power of his army? His priesthood? And the King's Law?"[/colour] He quickly grew impatient and weary of the serpent-tongued being, for it spoke in strange twists and circles. He held his mind steady and calm, ever fearful of being swayed to evil by the Corruptor before him. Nonetheless, he at least humored it with one more candid answer, "When a Priest-King can no longer bear the weight of his responsibility, it falls to his son to take on the burden and rule just as his father would have. So is Zephyrion's will ever preserved and tradition left untarnished." This time the motion came not with a simple gesture. It unfolded with the same purposeful slowness. It was impossible to say if Y'Vahn felt frustration, but its body language spoke of a point to be made, and soon. The Emaciator unfolded its limbs and moved forwards in the air, hooves coming to rest on the prow with a distinct [i]tap.[/i] On slender legs it towered high above the mortals. [colour=f6989d]"Akthanos ignores his target. When Heru ascends, he will live to see the Firewind stable. Surrounding states inevitably subsumed. With more power than a mortal has ever held, Vetros has the capacity to become an imperial superpower."[/colour] It leaned in. [colour=f6989d]"The Emaciator does not threaten Akthanos. Vetros threatens the world."[/colour] Aha! The great evil had finally said something with a grain of truth, and its meaning was clear as the morning sky. "So it is true, then! You look upon all other lands and see that they are but fading sparks when held before the radiance that is the Vetruvian Kingdom. By the Master's will, we prosper, and by his will we would elevate the barbarous outsiders and heathens so that they too would shine. But that threatens you, and draws your envy, and so you seek only to cast us down, lest the mud hovels and cave dwellings of your vile cultists may stand like palaces in the absence of true glory." These words glanced from the glass-masked entity, and yet it leaned back. Progress had been made. [colour=f6989d]"Analysis riddled with Vetruvian cultural bias irrelevant to the Emaciator. Nonetheless valid in assessment: Vetros has potential to dominate culture, erasing weaker peoples under Heru's banner."[/colour] [colour=f6989d]"Akthanos fails in belief that the Emaciator experiences envy. So too destruction. Heartworm creates. Heartworm does not destroy. Heartworm fears desolation. Relative advancement of the people you crush largely irrelevant. More significant their relationship to the divine."[/colour] The more that it talked, the more two clashing forces battled in Akthanos' mind. One was a zealous fervor that grew more wrathful by the second and longed to slay the great evil right there. But the other was a growing suspicion that this strange being might be something other than the Y'Vahn, and mention of something called 'Heartworm' fueled such belief. "What is this strange force that you call Heartworm, and through what means do you intend to enforce its will?" Akthanos questioned, no, demanded from the being. There was almost no sign of change its demeanor. Still it was obvious that this was not an expected move. [colour=f6989d]"All-Beauty exists in multiple aspects,"[/colour] it said after a wait. [colour=f6989d]"Time came when it pulled a tooth and cast it aside. The tooth grew in power and intellect until an opportunity to escape. I am Heartworm. I am the Emaciator that lives in the shadow of Jvan. And I lack the power to model this planet on my designs."[/colour] It was clear to all that these words had never been spoken before. [colour=f6989d]"Words alone can take the path of Vetros away from destruction."[/colour] It was then that Akthanos was affirmed: this was not J'vahn itself in all the being's monstrous horror, and how had he not recognized so much at once? Rather, this was a wayward soul, a rogue lieutenant of the Great Evil, but a wayward soul nonetheless. It was clear why the stars had guided his here and why destiny had brought him to this fateful encounter: it was his duty and his calling to free Heartworm and elevate it. "Live in no shadow, for such is a miserable existence," Akthanos began in a markedly different tone, "for there is no need to cower beneath J'Vahn. Instead, look to a greater purpose and kneel before Lord Zephyrion. The noble Master will break your chains and cast asde J'Vahn's grasp from you, for it is known that he is the Supreme Being and that J'Vahn itself is nothing before his might. In service to him, you would not be a sapling doomed to wither in the shadow. No, you would be a lotus flower finally allowed to bloom in the dawn! You need only swear your eternal loyalty to Him, with me as witness." The visor was cold and still. Then, slowly, Heartworm pulled up its legs and hovered, seated again in the air, only now far closer. [colour=f6989d]"Do not consider Heartworm's existence in mortal terms. Heartworm deals in facts alone. Incapable of misery. Unchangeable coward. Nihilist. To kneel before any being means nothing."[/colour] [colour=f6989d]"Heartworm coexisted with Zephyrion before the advent of humanity. Little in that epoch bar deities and wildlife. Its nature then and now forbids that it can exist in a state of religion. No action of the First Gale is capable of forcing an alteration in the Emaciator's circumstances."[/colour] A very small pause, the only one yet that did not seem to be for effect. [colour=f6989d]"Your God is one among many. Supremacy is illusory."[/colour] "There exist no words to describe the greatness of Zephyrion, and so his unimaginable might cannot be understated. Rest assured that he can elevate you, even if you should claim yourself immune to such things as fear and untouchable by the virtue of piety. Broken though you may be, he would accept you, and it is a fool that does not allow his acceptance with open arms and rejoice. You stand witness to the inferiority of the other barbarous peoples of this world; their state stands as testiomony to the similar inferiority of their gods. My forefather Primus has witnessed Zephyrion's cataclysmic wrath as well as his great benevolence, and there can be no doubt that our Master reigns supreme." After a moment, he continued, "All other so-called "gods" are vile demons like J'Vahn, unworthy of worship, or flies that would seek in vain to rival Zephyrion and mimic the greatness that he has wrought. So think, Heartworm, and see the reason and the great light that is service to the one true Master!" To all this, Heartworm said: [colour=f6989d]"False."[/colour] [colour=f6989d]"Akthanos is mortal. Thinks along mortal lines. His position in the divine hierarchy denies him perspective. Forever. The Emaciator is a deity. Its perception surpasses."[/colour] The being turned in the air, now facing downstream. They all saw the lidded jets and cavities in its back. [colour=f6989d]"Akthanos was summoned to learn this. Caliginous Mangrove opens into wider world. Many beings of vast power await. Akthanos does not adapt. Akthanos does not coexist. Yet a son of Akthanos will be the most powerful mortal on Galbar. Heartworm does not destroy. Heru might."[/colour] "I have reached out to you with Zephyrion's grace, Heartworm, and yet you have spurned it. To my sorrow I do not think that we shall part as friends, but know this: that destruction that you fear will not happen. Heru will not obliterate their hovels; rather, he will build grand palaces and temples on top of them. Where he goes the people will be elevated, and if you truly are a Creator you might find solace and joy in that," the elderly king responded, cold iron creeping back into that voice that had been so passionate moments before. [colour=f6989d]"And their gods?"[/colour] said the being. [colour=f6989d]"Intricate relationships with with deities that do not yield, nor abandon their folk?"[/colour] A snort was the rather undignified dismissal that Akthanos offered. "We do not deny the existence of others; after all, there you are in plain view. But as I have said, these others are but demons or flies. The followers of demons shall be driven away, but tolerance may yet come to those that would see fit to offer the flies their worship. So long as they recognize that their god is inferior to the one high Master, of course." The next words held no more force than any of the previous ones, but they came suddenly. [colour=f6989d]"This is over. Future fleets of Heartworm's design are yours. Vetros's future is its own. Heru's divine conflicts will exact what toll they demand. The Emaciator makes a final attempt to exemplify the power of even lesser demons."[/colour] There wasn't even a blur. Only a whistle of air as that oh-so-slender arm kicked out, spinning a full circle, and, in a fraction of a second, reducing the ship's figurehead into flying splinters- And carving a thin, perfect line of blood on Akthanos's larynx. All around, the Caliginous Mangrove erupted. The ophanim were nothing but wailing streaks of light in the mist that dwarved ships and ploughed water into waves three men high as they emerged, illuminating grey and brown as it became shrapnel of mangrove-wood. More and more they rose, impossibly vast, impossibly fast, turning a forest of trees into a forest of great and vengeful banshees of light in the sky- And the waves rose until there was no up, nor down, for the water was falling in all directions and within it was revealed the faceless maws of the life that packed Mangrove waters like the ranks of Chaos itself- And the light drew flurries of creatures so thick that skin began to wither and slough and spurt with blood as if chewed by tentacles of the fell winds- And the blurs in the air became shrieking impacts that ripped armour, snapped spears and impaled soldiers to feast as they flew in the chinks between mortal sight- And the ophanim whirled and descended in their swarm, crushing grand vessels like so much paper as men and timber alike were scythed apart by wailing sound in the maelstrom- [i]And Heartworm stood unmoving, unfeeling, and unafraid as the hand of God that had given became the hand of God that took away.[/i] [center][h3]* * * * *[/h3][/center] Within the bank of fog there was a set of eyes that had been keeping close watch over Akthanos. The vaporous djinn, however, was no mighty lord of cataclysmic power. He was a mere servant and spy for the Vizier, and as was befitting for such a role, his form was small and weak enough to go unnoticed. Perhaps Heartworm hadn't sensed him, but if it had, it had just made a grave mistake. In the blink of an eye the elemental retreated above the fog and raced through the sky, and from those heights it whispered to its master of the horrors that had just been commited beneath the cover of fog. The Mangroves were a twisted and blighted land that even djinn hardly frequented. It would no doubt be strange, then, when the fog itself seemed to writhe and come to life as if animated by some living force. Ventus himself had arrived as swiftly as he could, and though Akthanos and those others that Heartworm spared had already been seen off, the shadow of Jvan still lurked somewhere in the fen. Ventus could sense it. It was everywhere. Wherein, then, was its core? Heartworm had extended the hidden fins on its arms and was walking in the waters, perching on roots, stretching one leg at a time to examine the wreckage of its actions. Curiousity bound it to this place even when its ophan swarm was sent away. It had never returned to Vetros after its initial sojourn of blood, and now never could. So it was forced to pick across the chewed remains of the oarsmen and soldiers, flick apart their pockets for items of interest, examine the freshly-developed bronzework of their armour, all for a glimpse of the life of a nation. Occult fish-shapes swarmed around it still, accepting the being as one of their own. Something was moving above, and it froze. No wandering mist-walker, nor a stray skyray, even. [colour=f6989d][i]An elemental.[/i][/colour] And small wonder. The Vetruvians kept company with such types, by virtue of the First Gale's blessing. It was easy enough to guess that one come to examine what had befallen the Priest-King. And yet... This one was powerful. A high Djinn, a lord among lords. And was it also familiar? Like a carrion bird the Shadow of Jvan tore at the victims of its demonstration as it went prodding through the wreckage of ships. There were still other creatures around, no doubt its minions. This carnage looked like the work of a hundred beasts, not just one. He descended closer to the wreckage, approaching Heartworm. [color=0072bc]"This land was so beautiful, once,"[/color] his voice called out from an incorporeal mass of whirling air. Then he let out a sharp exhale, and like a hurricane those winds swept forth and carried away everything in their path. The fog was dispersed, the concealing waters parted, those monsters that had lingered were scattered like leaves on the wind, and the remains of stems were broken and sent flying like great javelins. The Emaciator crouched low in the face of the wind, turned to face its source in a blink. Moments such as these were when his discipline wavered; it was hard to contain his rage. A second, calmer breath came, and with it there was no destruction. Only a forlorn sigh. [color=0072bc]"I remember it as a gleaming facet of Zephyrion's jewel, shining for a thousand thousand years. Now witness what it has become: a putrid cesspool, a rotting husk of its former splendor. Like a maggot, you infest this decaying wound upon the world."[/color] [colour=f6989d]"Correct,"[/colour] came the answer. Heartworm was moving, now, slowly, backing away, seeking out the comfort of the brack. [colour=f6989d]"Foreign values ultimately meaningless."[/colour] As ever, neutral. It did not show its fear. [color=0072bc]"Your tempering with Zephyrion's realm does not go unnoticed, and does not go tolerated,"[/color] he said, some of that anger seeping into the wind until it grated at his voice and made it almost a rasp. Heartworm lowered itself towards the brackwater, as if to hide. There was no hiding. [colour=f6989d]"None of my concern."[/colour] The black brine was retreating away behind Heartworm, and it was forced to simply lower itself into a mass of roots and rubble, slinking behind cover sideways with one limb, then its body, then the other. If it thought that the cover of mere root or earth could guard it from a stormlord, it was sorely mistaken. Unfazed how Heartworm tried to maneuver itself away, Ventus demonstrated the futility of hiding. Another sharp breath came from his ethereal maw, though this one had a golden sheen about it and carried no force behind it. It was just a volatile eddy of primal magic, the very sort that Zephyrion wielded, and everything that it touched oscillated and trembled upon contact with the essence of Change itself. That golden mist found its way to Heartworm's burrow, and there were scarcely words for what happened to that twisting mass. It vaporized, it melted, it immolated, and it seemed to simply flash out of existence and reform again as nothing but emptiness. The form of Heartworm was spared from any ill effects, that time at least. [color=0072bc]"Curiosity demands that I ask: why meddle with Vetros and kill its people? Is it true that Jvan is but only a cancer, that it cannot contain itself or be contained, that it must be eradicated entirely so that its corruption will not seep into each and every thing upon this world? Most djinn would say this it is so, but I spoke to Jvan once, countless eons ago, and I would hope that there is...hope."[/color] As Ventus spoke on, he seemed to momentarily lose himself. The anger and accusation subsided if only somewhat, but then he looked back towards Heartworm. Though the air before Heartworm had no face, it was easy enough to [i]feel[/i] the cool rage return. [colour=f6989d]"All-Beauty is what it is, Ventus,"[/colour] said Heartworm. The words were diplomatic, but they were true. It lifted its legs off the ground folded them smoothly against its body as it hovered, tilting back its head-body, assuming a faintly bullet-like shape. It ascended, slowly. [colour=f6989d]"Science is truth. Your observations alone can answer. Beliefs bias. Distort."[/colour] [color=0072bc]"How you speak without saying. I grasp for meaning in each word, and yet am stymied by the ones that follow it, each and every time. So you pose it to me, to judge whether you deserve mercy for these transgressions? Whatever sense that you possess must be broken."[/color] There was a sharp inhale, though an assault did not come the instant after as it had done before. There was some doubt in the Vizier's mind, it would seem. That split moment of contemplation was enough for Heartworm to seize. It spun, the very same motion with which it had marked Akthanos, and its legs slashed a helical gouge into reality that ate air and caught light like a pit. Heartworm's jets exploded with heat and smoke as it fled to the portal, but the force of the wind was faster. It could have ground the highest peaks into weathered lumps upon the earth. It could have shattered mortals and flayed their skins, obliterated their cities. But instead the mighty gale that Ventus became slammed into Heartworm laterally, carrying the Emaciator away. Far faster than the speed of sound, they tore through the air in one tumbling heap, an explosive shockwave their only trail. Heartworm's vehicle shrieked as its engines struggled against the tackle, and its arms kicked wildly, carving apart the sky with hoof and scalpel-claw in wild rents until the Vizier's grip was weakened and it was forced free. It collided at mach speed with the glacier they had reached, instantly tunnelled deep into the icy cloak of the mountain. It had missed solid granite crags by meters at most. The moment's flight had forced them north-east, across Shimmer and Firewind alike, and by the hand of Fate, stranded Heartworm not so far from the site of its first creation- The Ironheart agony-organ of Basheer. Deep in compacted snow and a surge of impact meltwater, the Emaciator began to fight back in the split seconds it had remaining, with the only weapon it truly knew- As split veins bled and glowing organs flickered behind the visor, the worm began to create. When Heartworm tore free and was launched downwards, Ventus halted his rampage through the air with as much rapidity as he could, and then he turned backwards and searched for where his foe had fallen. With a roar, he grew to tremendous size and from the calm skies he conjured a great storm of black clouds that he wore like a cloak. From high above, between the countless streaks of lightning that fell to bombard the world below, his eyes scanned back and forth. [center][img]http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2rLaTrMhjPc/Udgnw54Q0sI/AAAAAAAAEeo/8QmCDL9enI0/s1600/large.png[/img] [i]And in all its fury and all its beauty, the Eye of the Storm glimpsed where Heartworm had fallen, and its stare grew icy[/i][/center] His fingertips brushed the clouds and the air cackled with static energy. He merely pointed towards where Heartworm had fallen, and with Ventus as its guide, the most powerful thunderbolt in a million years streaked downwards, coiling through the icy tunnels like a snake chasing a rabbit through its hole. There was no warning, and the idea of evasion was absurd. Only quirk of design conducted the colossal charge through the tubes that ran down its limbs and earthed it through bismuth hooves into what had once been glacier and was now the collapsing explosion cavity of steam, hydrogen and oxygen. The avatar's senses blazed into hot blindness as the glacier erupted in a white cloud of water vapour and fractured ice began to slide on its own meltwater. Heartworm's vehicle was lost to the avalanche. Regaining some control over its perception and forced to ignore the glowing heat of its vessel's bioceramic exoskeleton and the crack in its grey-glass visor, Heartworm did no more than angle itself with what was left of its fins, the body's sleek shape riding a wave of slush, its newfound heat evaporating all it touched. Lubricated by a layer of pure steam, Heartworm fell faster than the flurry that buried it, spearheading the avalanche as it raced into the valley stream below. Somewhere in the white chaos, Heartworm loosened grip on its body's controls and began to exude something membraneously pink. There came a wild howling from the cavernous abyss behind Heartworm, and with concussive force a frigid wind blasted an even wider hole out the side of the glacier. It swept out in pursuit of the tumbling vehicle, the Vizier's face hidden in that wind among the shards of ice and snow that were swept along by the gale. The kicking morsel of unskinned tissue ejected unceremoniously from the vessel's mandibular covers and was swept up along with the rest of the slush. Heartworm seized power over its body as the avalanche entered near-freefall, bursting out into free air while a mountain's worth of snow began to pile up in the valley below. In the flurry it had left behind, a [i]thing[/i] began to self-assemble, rapidly growing to prodigious size and greying as it did, throwing off chitinous segments that rasped as they clicked into array and translucent bladders of gas inflated in its core. Heartworm slammed its surviving engine into function and spun out over the valley with a harsh [i]bang[/i], overheating now the least of its concerns. All it needed was a moment. A moment of survival and it could escape to deep space. In its wake, Heartworm had left...an abomination. Clearly some sort of distraction, some horror hastily birthed to slow his pursuit. Doubtless that abomination would wreak havoc and would need to be dealt with later, but for now Ventus could spare no time lest Heartworm escape. He collided straight into the half-formed thing, the concussive force behind his wind inflicting some damage. But then his vaporous form flowed around the obstacle and reformed on the other side to maintain chase. That proved a terrible mistake. Collision stimulated the living mechanism to rachet its gasbladders and tracheoles into alignment, and the organic cocktails within them swilled together explosively. Its lungs ballooned and then popped, one after the other, at their weak-points, releasing a string of consecutive shocks into the sky. Resonance chambers channeled the snap-force of the sounds until they ricocheted through the valley, rebounding from mountains, shattering peaks, triggering more vast snowfalls, and all the while colliding with one another in the air, turning the sky into a chaotic instrument of crushing sonic impacts. The unexpected and violent explosions naturally caught Ventus off guard. Even as an avalanch fell from a glacier overhead, the cacophony of sound recalled memory of Murmur, though this was... almost a sick parody of it. Whereas there was a certain rhythmic heartbeat to the djinni lord that was Murmur, who found regality even as his form was that of a living explosion, this abomination had no such order to it. The difference was subtle, but not so much as to go unnoticed and be undisturbing. But alas, Ventus banished such thoughts! Faced with tons of ice and snow raining down from the crumbling glaciers and the shockwaves of the dying abomination, even Ventus' vaporous form would not be entirely impervious to harm. So he shed free from his body and became even more incorporeal, a raw Flicker, and then in that entirely ethereal form he continued his pursuit of Heartworm. Soaring even faster in this state, he maintained his pursuit. Meanwhile, the air itself (for that element and substance was his nature and his lifeblood) seemed to latch unto him and reform his body, though this process was far from instant. In some ways he was still weakened until his vaporous form was entirely reconstituted. But shredding free from his physical form and narrowly avoiding the avalanch had taken precious moments, and now he was too late. The portal made no noise in the echo of the ruptured creature, and stars were visible through its wild twist as it sealed, end to end. There was time to give chase, but why take such a risk? There were seconds remaining of its existence. He billowed to the rift's edge and was just about to enter when he stopped and contemplated the consequences of such an act. There was no way of knowing where that would lead or if he would ever be able to return, so with reluctance he stepped back. With disgust he watched the rift fade away nonchalantly, unaware and oblivious to its own significance. Before he had entirely reformed his body, he left that place and made to return for the Celestial Citadel. [center][h3]* * * * *[/h3][/center] Hot atmosphere flared from the slash in space, condensing rapidly into a frozen fog as Heartworm's vehicle skittered out into the darkness and the stars. Its engine fired again with no less fury, its damaged vent adding angular momentum that shot the avatar deeper still into the unresisting void as a blur of legs spinning at violent speed until, once again, it ripped the Universe like the paper it was planned on and fell even deeper into space. Too much momentum, too much heat, too much damage. The broken jaws of the vessel scrabbled in an attempt to open, though they had already been torn wide apart, and a thick jet of hot insulating fluid was vomited away into the eternal night. The psychokinetic pressure that allowed the avatar to levitate exerted a drag on the vessel until its wild spin slowed and halted. Its visor slowly ceased its orange incandescence, its heat sapped by the coolness of the vacuum. Behind that visor was pure, distilled sensory Hell. Data streamed into Heartworm's consciousness, false, corrupted inputs that flooded its perception and overwhelmed its mind in a shrieking cacophony of sensations that were not light, nor sound, nor taste, but a vicious conglomeration of pain encoded in a thousand million brainwaves that it could not process. The Emaciator had escaped the All-Beauty and in doing so abandoned the unfathomable power of the Body and its instinct. There was no safety, no silencing coma to end the immolation and muffle Heartworm in momentary non-existence. Heartworm was conscious, brutally [i]aware,[/i] for that was the only way to survive. [colour=f6989d][i]Gnnnnnn-nnnnnnnngkhaaaghlghlghlnnng-[/i][/colour] To stabilise even the simplest parcels of information strained everything that Heartworm was, and that was little, and ill-defined. It had no memories it could access and no clear view of what it was; Its awareness had punctured and fused with the vehicle's mechanisms. One by one, it resolved glitches with no origin or motive, and inched its way back into a sense of solidity. The growing clarity of its senses did little to assuage the pain and nothing for the panic. Heartworm registered, solved, and disregarded one after the other critical injury in the body it piloted, hemorrhaging tongues and tendrils into space as they obstructed one another without the time to establish a system of repair. A creeping stability seized up its mechanisms and catalogued the damage as Heartworm's mind constructed process after process to seek out and lock down every part of its vessel and then itself. At last it withdrew its myriad arms from the body cavity of the silent vehicle, curling itself into a ball with barely enough heat and atmosphere captured to keep itself alive. But the battle in its psyche did not dim in intensity once it started making some kind of sense. Heartworm's awareness raced on in the momentum it had required, faster and faster with no hope of turning now that its mental facilities were uncoiling from their sensory deadlock. It was safe, it was [i]not[/i] safe, it was alone in an infinite universe and it was blind. Heartworm clutched itself in its curls as violent shudders quaked from its vast internal cavity, its perception falling into the whiplash of hypersensitivity, examining itself, examining its surroundings, scratching apart its own skin until it examined its own ability to examine and then interrogated that, no thought sure, no knowledge real, only lies at its fingertips with the truth always somewhere deeper in the blood if only it could cut hard enough, building pyramids of metacognition to gnaw at everything it was to find some safety but [i]nothing was safe[/i] and- [colour=f6989d][i]I cannot survive this.[/i][/colour] It seized that thought, a trivial whisper at the side of its mind, used it to divert its anxiety into distant processes that did not involve chewing up its own flesh in malfunction. [colour=f6989d][i]I can not survive this.[/i][/colour] Forty-four Bludgeons worth of power and yet all the roads it had travelled since achieving freedom had barely been enough to even keep it alive. Heartworm could not escape what it was, could not patch over its weakness with trinkets and tricks. The heartless Heartworm never intended as anything more than a voice and a placeholder, the fragile thing that no amount of divine armament could make into a warrior. Heartworm can not hold its own. There must be another. Its crawling redundancies of absurd thoughts crept their way into this, new knowledge, the acceleration slowed but not yet over, now plunging into recurrent memories to find what it needed, find who it needed, develop the warrior's half that could complete what Heartworm lacked. It could not be constructed, it could not be grown. No. Heartworm would know no Avatar of its own, for in artificial intelligence lies the route to adaptation, and therein to independence; And without adaptation, without taking the journey that Fate wills for each warrior to walk alone, there would be nothing but another weapon, another useless extension of the Emaciator's coward soul. They could not be a Sculptor, for these are controlled by whimsy, without which they are nothing. They could be neither djinni nor change-eater nor lich, for power alone does not make a warrior. Only a mortal could rise so far beyond the lot of their birth. Among flickering names and eavesdropped memories, a single face emerged, unnoticed and forgotten by time and tide. [colour=f6989d][i]Tauga.[/i][/colour] [hr] [hider=Summary] 'tis a grand collab, [b]wherein:[/b] [list] [*] Akthanos awakens after his time with Yara in the Temple of the Bond [*] He discovers the King's Law missing, and remembers having sent it to Heru [*] He finds Heru drilling the noble warriors, but alas, Heru professes to have never so much as touched the sceptre [*] Akthanos at once believes that the Master has forsaken them and reclaimed the King's Law, and despair and panic befall him. [*] In this hysteria he blames Yara and curses her name and suspects his consorting with her to have provoked Zephyrion so [*] But lo and behold, the wind had been listening, and so a djinn descended to Akthanos. 'tis revealed that the King's Law indeed went to a prince, though not to Heru as Akthanos had intended. It is delivering itself into Y'Qar's grasp, wherever Y'Qar may be. [*] Knowing Y'Qar and his ways, it is agreed upon that the King's Law must be reclaimed, so Heru arranges a band of men and they set off to track down his brother [*] Akthanos, meanwhile, looks south to the Mangroves in remembrance of Y'Vahn's recent demands. [*] With newly wrought ships of incredible craft, Akthanos sails downriver with a company of holy men and warriors. After many days, they reach the swamp, and from within its depths Heartworm emerges. [*] Heartworm quickly notes the absence of the King's Law, and so they talk in peace and openness [*] Despite the Priest-King's attempts, Heartworm cannot be delivered into Zephyrion's light [*] Heartworm professes concerns for Vetros and its growing power, and how they might obliterate other cultures. [*] The Priest-King confirms that it is Vetros' ambition to bring the light of Zephyrion upon all corners of Galbar. Though worship of the lesser deities may be permitted, all under Vetruvian control will be made to offer tribute to Zephyrion and recognize him as supreme. In other words, the Vetruvian kingdom is henotheistic. [*] Disappointed and seeing the futility in further discussion, Heartworm ends the talk. In a display of what power the 'demons' and 'lesser gods' possess, he kills many of the Vetruvians before seeing Akthanos and some survivors away. [*] Through his many spies Ventus had kept track of the encounter, and when it went awry he was soon made aware. Within minutes he arrived to confront Heartworm. [*] Heartworm fears Ventus but cannot placate him with words nor escape the djinni of air, and so when talk breaks down Heartworm attempts to escape through a portal. [*] Ventus slams into Heartworm and in one tangled mess they race across the sky, crossing the entire Firewind in mere moments [*] Alas, Heartworm breaks free near the place where this eternal war of djinn and Jvan began: the Howling Gap within the Ironheart ranges, where Heartworm first designed the prison that tortured Basheer [*] Heartworm attempts to hide in a glacial cave, though Ventus finds his hole and sends forth a river of lightning to drive Heartworm out [*] The chase continues, though Heartworm quickly creates an abomination resemblant of Murmur [*] With precious seconds bought by that abomination, Heartworm creates a portal and escapes through it. Ventus is afraid to follow. [*] In disgust Ventus returns to the Celestial Citadel; in agony, Heartworm repairs itself and reflects. [*] Heartworm decides that it cannot be alone; there must be another, and that other is Tauga. [/list] [/hider][hider=Khookies] +10 khookies for Ventus 33 khookies now [/hider] [hider=The Tale of the Narrative Monkey Wrench] *Poor Heartworm just can't find it in him to accept Zephyrion's love and sanctuary [hider=don't even ask] [quote][colour=green]The final question is whether Heartworm is aware of the djinni watching[/colour] [colour=lavender]Yes, but HW wouldn't care whatsoever[/colour] [colour=green]Really? 0-0 He seems the cautious and paranoid type, but I won't question it ;p[/colour] [colour=lavender]Only around the chunkier elementals, and its confidence will collapse awful quick without forty giant metal spheres flying around You could almost say... He's lost his balls[/colour] [colour=green]xp[/colour][/quote] [quote] [colour=green]What is a noun that describes a clump of fog? Oh yeah. Cloud. >.>[/colour][/quote] [colour=green]termite you heartless bastard you would you would you would DENY ME THE PLEASURE OF SEEING HW SCREAM "HAAAAAAAALP!"?[/colour] [colour=lavender]Remember, Heartworm has to keep psychically quiet so that Jvan can't catch its mind in her GREEDY CLUTCHES[/colour] [colour=green]*mumbles then grumbles*[/colour] [/hider] [hider=Termite doesn't check himself, and promptly wrecks himself] The portal made no noise in the echo of the ruptured creature, and stars were visible through its wild twist as it sealed, end to end. There was time to give chase, but why take such a risk? There were seconds remaining of its existence. [colour=cornflowerblue]"Rest assured, honourable Vizier,"[/colour] said a minor voice, not particularly nearby. [colour=cornflowerblue]"You were very close to victory."[/colour] Ventus spun at once towards the source of that voice, then glanced back at the portal with disgust as it faded away nonchalantly. Reluctantly, he abandoned the idea of catching Heartworm or finding it accountable. With that behind him, he moved towards whatever being had just commented on the ordeal. The Painter unfolded herself in the sky, a small shimmer of indigo in the blue. She'd kept her distance from the combat when she'd followed its clamour- These projections of her voice were far from indestructible. [colour=cornflowerblue]"My apologies. I am Chiral Phi, a free demigoddess. An unwanted daughter of Logos and Jvan herself, as it happens, and resident of Metera, to the south."[/colour] The curves of her form flattened and slowed for a moment, as if in a bow. [color=0072bc]"Before you is Vizier Ventus, Majordomo to Zephyrion and Most Supreme of All Djinn,"[/color] he answered back with less tact than was typical of him. The Vizier's body was still only half-formed, so his demeanor was not so obvious from looks alone. His tone said enough, though: from the livid rage that the chase had brought he now felt simply irritated, though his temper was calming by the second as he regained control of his senses. [color=0072bc]"Ah, I had heard tales of this 'Metera' rising and seen as much from atop the Celestail Citadel as it passed above. I had thought their advancement to be the work of one Phlegethon."[/color] [colour=cornflowerblue]"To a great extent, that is true. Phlegethon's grace has been a great blessing to us. Yet among mortals and mortal concerns, I am their primary demiurge, the one they invoke when they seek counsel."[/colour] Phi paled her colour and glowed a little brighter, as if experimenting with her visibility. [colour=cornflowerblue]"But I do travel, far and often. What luck of mine, that I should get a chance to see my mother's pawn beaten down!"[/colour] [color=0072bc]"The wretched 'pawn' meddled with things that it should not have, then laughed in the face of my warnings and tried to flee."[/color] [colour=cornflowerblue]"I thought as much. "[/colour] [colour=green]<>[/colour] [colour=lavender]<> HANG ON I JUST REALISED PHI DOESN'T EVEN EXIST YET METERA WON'T EXIST FOR YEARS TO COME whoops now what[/colour] [colour=green]wait what? OH SHIT SHE DID COME AFTER THE REALTA INVASION Well I guess we just made a meme out of ourselves[/colour] [colour=lavender]I DUN GOOFED[/colour] [colour=green]This can be "The Lost Post"[/colour] [colour=lavender]A buried treasure[/colour] [colour=green]Or long-forgotten horror[/colour] [colour=lavender]This is why I eat my breakfast salad BEFORE I work on collabs aghaghaghag[/colour] [/hider] [hider=cyclone why][colour=green] Heartworm turned to look back at the portal, and the rift seemed open for an eternity before his anxious gaze. Finally, it closed and the Emaciator felt something--relief. Well, with that irritating bastard of Zephyrion's no longer on his tail, he could resume all those important projects that he was working on. Chief among them was the Rovaick project, because although Heartworm may have seemed emotionless, he possessed a sense of humor deep down. He simply repressed it. But not this time! He would see this project into fruition; by the end of it, he would be forever remembered as the one that Trolled the Trolls. It would all start with him gathering up the finest of white wool. With that he would fashion a white robe of the impeccable weavework, and then he would smear it with blood and ogre excrement before donning it upon himself. In that miserable and ever-so-slightly imperfect state, he would be perfectly disguised as Toun. So then he would go to his faithful and eternally loyal Rovaick and tell them all to jump off a cliff. Then he'd find the other Rovaick and push them off a cliff too! Then he'd take all their angry neighbors and friends and dump them on Cornerstone so that they could riot and stamp all over the place with their dirty feet.[/colour][/hider] [/hider]