[hr][hr] [center] [img]https://orig00.deviantart.net/166b/f/2018/132/3/a/larwensymbol_by_crowconuts-dcbboct.png[/img] [/center] [hr][hr] “Brother, please! Please! Don’t do this! I beg you!” Said the pleading brother. “No! The prophecy must be fulfilled!” Came the reply of a madman. “This is the only way.” He stated adamantly, his voice no longer wavering like it had once upon a time. “I can save you! I will SAVE you brother. I will save them all!” The fanatical brother spouted, as his gaze fixated upon the stars. The blood moon was at its apex, hanging above the burning city like a giant’s eye. An eye full of malice and condemnation. A false symbol, yet highly coveted by those with ill intent. The pleading brother watched the moon as he struggled against his chains. His face was twisted in a mix of horror and fear. All around him his home was burning, his parents had been butchered, and his brother had finally descended into madness. Dried blood coated the fanatical brother’s hands. Clutched in his right hand so tightly, to the point where his knuckles were stark white, was an exotic, serrated knife. An old ceremonial weapon, and the artifact of their house. A deranged smile played at the knife-wielding brother’s lips, and his eyes were dilated to the extreme as the moon lulled him to do its bidding. The cold stone of marble, upon which the chained brother struggled, was etched with a dark red rock. A stone unfamiliar to the horrified brother. It was funny he thought, that in a time like this he would be thinking about the color of a rock. But it was useless to struggle. His subconscious mind was trying to make him think about other things. For there was no escaping the chains, and no help would come, his twin had seen to that. Still, he tried anyways, while he still held breathe. The fanatical brother’s gaze fell upon his twin at last, and he reached out with his left hand to gently caress his brother’s cheek, and the two looked at each other in the red glow. The pleading brother was disgusted by the murder’s touch but there was something so familiar in his eyes. For a moment there was a semblance of the brother that he had grown up with, but with a blink, it was gone. Replaced by a monster who sought to fix a doomed city. The pleading brother only had one more question to ask. “Why?” “You do not understand, you never did.” The crazed brother began, “The prophecy is the key to all of this, and our salvation. All those years you mocked me and my beliefs! You turned our parents away from me! And I… And I was alone… But I can fix this. I can bring them back, and I can show all them that I mattered!” He quickly shook his head, “No! That I DO matter. Right now, in this moment!” The pleading brother’s heart broke, and orange tears, reflecting the flames, fell from his eyes. This madness was his to blame. He should have tried harder. All those days growing up where father scolded and beat his brother, he should have said something. But he didn’t. All the times his mother pushed his brother away from her embrace, he should have told her how cruel it was. But he hadn’t. And all the times his brother had asked to do something together, only to be met with a no… He should have been a better. But none of that truly mattered anymore, the sibling he knew was long gone. This was the cold hard truth he was faced with and it cut deeper than any knife could. “No brother.” The chained brother whispered, “I am sorry. Truly, for everything I never did for you. I should have… I should have been your brother, instead of a stranger. I should have stopped you from leaving. I could have prevented you from lashing out and forming the cult. But I didn’t, and for that I am truly sorry to have wronged you. But this is not the way, brother. The prophecy is a lie, it always was. It is nothing but a story told to children on a cold restless night. It cannot justify what you have done.” Anger flashed across the fanatical brother’s face, before being replaced with a sorrowful expression. He backed away a few steps, as if struck by an arrow. “No… No! You hated me, all of you did! I tried and tried and tried. And for what? Nothing… No, I will make you love me again. There is no other way… You’ll forgive me. You’ll see!” “No! Don’t do this!” said he who was chained, but the look in his brother’s eye was final. He began to scream in rage, “This will accomplish nothing! You destroyed half the city; the other half is in flames! Do you hear their screams! Those were our people! You murdered our parents! You poisoned the palace with your lies! How could you?” The crazed brother listened not but began to speak in a language that neither understood. The pleading brother turned to rage as he tried in vain to break free from the chains. It dawned on him finally, he was going to die. He was going to be murdered and all for what? He screamed at his brother for the last time. “I hate you! Do you hear me? I HATE YOU!” Slowly but surely, as his brother struggled futilely, the knife wielding madman drew closer, now speaking faster and faster with each step. At the epitome of the verse, the ceremonial knife found a sheath within his brother’s heart. Then the world exploded, and the finality of death claimed them. But it was not the end. No… It was the beginning of something new. Something far greater. [hr] There was a truth to the prophecy after all, but not what either brother had expected. The old dagger had been a gateway, and the right conditions had been met. In that burning city, a top a dead palace, both brothers died as the world crumbled to dust. Their souls left behind the afterlife, and the hell each had been destined to. Instead, they felt a pull. A calling for a greater purpose and along the way. The two wanted to become one, and so they shattered themselves. Both conflicted souls then sought dominion over the other, and so they fought in the dark between darkness for eons. Each time they broke apart, unable to mold together, they lost their memories and their identities but what they did not lose, was their personalities. And in the dark, the good was stripped away, leaving nothing behind but negativity. And at last, as time became meaningless, the two finally became one. There were no longer two conflicting souls, but one which had been imprinted with both personae. He was hateful, he was destructive, and he was miserable but most importantly, he was. In the great dark, there was silence all around him. A beautiful peace he felt. Yes, felt. The rage that burned inside was controllable in that place. There was nothing to lash out at, nothing to destroy, just tranquil dark and quiet. He was content. But what was [i]he?[/i] He thought upon it, yes thought. What a strange thing to do. After but a moment or two, he realized what he was. He was Orvus and he was at peace. As soon as he thought his name, Orvus felt himself begin to fade, but it did not alarm him in any way. It just felt right. But something kept him awake. The pull. One he had felt lifetimes ago, now growing stronger and stronger. He tried to ignore it and bury the maddening feeling, but it was all for naught. With little warning, something broke the veil of darkness, and cast him into light. It was blinding at first, but his perception adjusted, and he made out a tear in the darkness. Like a cut, it leaked its light into the emptiness that he had knew so familiarly, now making it wholly unfamiliar. Alien. It called him. Something called him. For the first time in his existence, he was afraid. He didn’t want to go. Why was it making him? But his choice had already been made a long time ago. The tear began to physically pull him, and he panicked. He fought against the pull, lashing out at the nothingness, begging for help, but it was indifferent to his struggling and cries. It simply did not care about him, it never had. He grew angry at this undeniable truth, and that anger swiftly turned to unbridled rage. That it would deny him help was unthinkable. Orvus ultimately made a fool of himself. For there was nothing there to destroy, or to hurt, and the nothingness mocked him in return. His fight almost died then, but rage was powerful. Orvus looked to the tear, and his diluted mind bore a delicious thought. If he could not hurt the nothingness, then whatever was pulling him, would soon face his wrath. Then it swallowed him up and the nothingness left behind was once again content to be alone. [hr] The journey was strange, he felt countless others, each a part of the same. A vast amount, more then he could ever imagine, being dragged with him. He tried to fight, tried to claw his way to the back, but he was powerless in such a place. Then there was a bright flash of light and then everything. He felt himself become etched into this new reality, taking a fitting form that could interact. It was black, like a shadow attempting to form into a figure. Like smoke, it rose about him, but never dissipated. Then the light of the bright Goddess imprinted itself upon this form. Where the light touched him, numerous pinpricks of dull white molded to his body and chief among them were two bright eyes to see all that was before him. He wished he had not looked. For he saw [i]him[/i], and he knew what [i]he[/i] was and what to call [i]him[/i]. [i]Architect[/i]. Orvus fell to his knees, the rage he had first felt now but smoke. His purpose was abundantly clear, and he hated it. The young god then covered his face, whether out of shame or grief, he did not know. He thought long and hard about what had happened, what was happening, and what would happen. So caught up in these thoughts, he was oblivious so all those around him. His fellow Gods, these siblings who he knew by name. He didn’t care about them, how could he? They held beautiful forms, ones of creation and purpose. But not he. He carried with him the undoing of such creation. He was better then they could ever be. Yet, a question came to mind, why would the Architect let him in? This thought was maddening. For Orvus had known what peace had felt like! He had not wanted this- this abomination of an existence! Now he felt many things, and none of them were peace. He began to shake, the rage bottled up inside, would not be held back any longer. [hider=SUMMARY] Our story begins with a tale of two brothers. Backstory fluff for Orvus. Nothing really important. Orvus begins to form in the darkness between dark, two souls coming together to form one new one. He finds himself at peace there, but the pull would not allow him to fade from existence. The pull opens into a tear, and he is taken through the portal against his will. He arrives at the Architects palace and takes his form. He knows his purpose is to create, but what he is, is the opposite of such a thing. He falls to his knees and covers his face, his thoughts consuming him for a time. As such he his oblivious to everything around him. He concludes that his existence is an abomination. As such, he begins to tremble as his rage begins to rise. [/hider]