[center][h1][color=Deepskyblue][b][i]Reflection in the Ice[/i][/b][/color][/h1][/center] [hr] The crack of ice echoed across the endless white of the frozen landscape. Icebergs and snowbanks were the only residents there in that place and they would make no complaints about the noise. Even if it had been going on like that for several minutes. It seemed even the gods needed to vent their frustration. Chailiss was no exception. Again and again his fist hit the ice with tremendous blows. He did not scream, he did not shout, all he did was wear a mask of grief, mixed with rage. He still wore the form of his newest appearance, the Father Spirit, as the Childan deigned to call him. It gave such great expression to his thoughts that any would be able to see his struggles. For he had allowed thoughts of rape and murder to crop up in his people. He had let the bjork suffer the punishment of a foolish god and worse, he had lost his little Nisshiniek. What would become of her, lost and alone out in that realm of his? Why wasn’t he out looking for her even now? Why- His fist struck the ice again and the ice shelf cracked further, breaking apart. Chailiss allowed himself to sink with the weight of his failures into the cold depths below. The sweet embrace of familiar cold. The free-falling expanse of encroaching dark. He recalled his earlier conversation with Homura and her speech of paradise and all his land being an affront to such an ideal. Worse yet, now after the Monarch’s decree, he was to be the messenger of her judgment should she say so. Would he be foolish to go against such a decree? He whose Breath Bears Icy Winds. A visit to the monarch was due, to clarify such a position as that. Chailiss was unsure if he could be at the beck and call of someone so... His thoughts turned back to his humans. What had she expected? He had given them free will and by doing so, they would forge their own destinies. So they could struggle and grow, even if that meant that undesirable outliers would crop up. His eyes widened at a sudden realization, had he made them with such thoughts? Or had it just cropped up like some malignant tumor? What pushed men to force themselves upon another? Their wretched thoughts had turned to only lust… And worst of all, they had gotten away with it. Was he incapable of finding them out? He was a God after all, wiser than all mortals, older than the land they walked. But, then why did he feel so inferior? He had allowed a sibling to spring up in his land and murder the bjork. Molesting his land with their hatred and spite. He had failed them. And his champion… His poor champion. Already aware and suffering a loss he could not comprehend. He had left her too, but at least on that occasion he had succeeded in stopping a calamity. He could only guess the cause of such destruction. But the words of the Moon Goddess gave little doubt to the culprit. A kinslayer. A murderer. Another God had been slain and he had done nothing. Because he was simply unaware. Perhaps he was wrong in assuming such a heinous thought that the Moon had committed such a crime but perhaps not. Only time would tell. Time. How long had he been in the arctic? Beating at ice like some fool. He was better than that but a feeling of doubt overcame him in that moment and he knew even God’s were not so absolute. He was left shaken, so, like a coward he retreated where none would see and now he settled into the ocean floor, so deep and dark below. The pressure was immense and not but bubbles of salt and heat vents did give him company. It was strange, the peace it brought and he could have spent the longest of times there but he knew, even with all the turmoil that addled his mind, he still needed to act. To make amends. Even if rape, murder and other atrocities could be brought about by mortals and his kin, that did not mean all of them would act on those impulses. The world would be harsh but kindness and compassion would prevail, he would make sure of it. Despite the elements, the actions of a few, the dim outlook he saw- His land would be made into a bastion of hope. Perhaps even a fledgling paradise but forged by those that lived within. Wouldn’t that be a thought? The god of cold stood and balled his fists. He could not hide in the farthest reaches of his realm forever, nor should he have even done so in the first place. He needed to act while the wounds were still fresh and in need of healing before they festered with rot. He crouched down, knees bending with great power- before he exploded forth. It was but a second later he stood upon ice, water freezing as it left his body to shatter on the ground. First, he would alter the weapon of calamity he had saved his land with. He found the box sitting nearby from where he had sat it. The power within hummed with dark intent and for but a moment the idea of leaving it forever in the darkest depths of the ocean was tempting but even Chailiss knew he needed something that could help defend himself and his land with. A deterrent. He poured a bit more of his strength into it and the box, even closed, lapped it up readily. It changed, grew a bit larger and far deeper with a stain of blue color. It hummed angrily at first but the hum became a soft beat, not unlike that of a heart. Next he fashioned a chain of ice that looped through the handles of the box and tied it to his person. He would have to keep the box close, for fear of misuse crossed his mind. With that done, he moved to his next task. Chailiss needed a servant, a champion who could leave his realm freely and act as a messenger, an explorer, with eyes and ears in the outside world. One whose heart was brave in the sight of danger and true in moments of doubt. Thus, Chailiss picked up a small bit of ice and shaped it into the figure of an owl. He could think of no better identity than the one he envisioned. With his breath, he whispered an awakening over the figurine and placed it down before him before taking a few steps back. Before his eyes, ice cracked and grew, giving way to flesh and bone and white-brown feathers. The shape grew and grew, rippling with strength and height before all ceased back to the quiet rustling of the wind. Standing before him loomed a very large, sleeping owl, easily twice the size of his own human form. The feathers were pale colored, bits of brown and greys interweaving to form a complex pattern of beauty. Speckled within those feathers were jewels of icy blue. Its head was heart-shaped, with tan feathers forming around its eyes and pale yellow beak. True function over form, as Chailiss knew its hearing would be excellent. It opened its eyes slowly after a time, revealing a dazzling blue that almost seemed to glow faintly. There was depth and intelligence in those eyes and it peered down upon its creator with curiosity. [color=deepskyblue]”Your name shall be Viho, champion of the skies.”[/color] Chailiss said. “I am Viho.” A quiet voice echoed around the God, as in affirmation. Chailiss raised an eyebrow, for the beak of Viho had never opened in his speech. “Is my purpose set Lord?” Viho asked, stretching out his dazzling wings. [color=deepskyblue]”It is.”[/color] He stated. [color=deepskyblue]”Journey far and wide, explore, and meet new faces. Do not dishonor yourself or me, for you are the envoy of this land of ours. And if you run across any creations of the Goddess Homura, give her this message. ‘Chailiss has heard the whims of the Monarch and will aid you despite any past differences, if the Lady wishes.’ Go now.”[/color] “I will not disappoint you, my lord.” Viho dipped his head, flexing out his left talons. “These winds will carry me far and away. For now, I bid you farewell.” And with a quiet flap of his wings, Viho the owl champion flew off into the unknown. Now it was time for Chailiss to depart. Next on his list was to find and educate his wayward children on the nature of their crimes. [hider=Summary] Chailiss reflects on what's been going on and is disappointed in himself and in the events of his peers and what has transpired in his land. After a long period of thought he realizes it is unbecoming of him to act in such a way. Thus he begins to set things right, and powers up his artifact a bit out of paranoia. Then he makes a new champion who will explore the world. The post ends on Chailiss endeavoring to search out his wayward children and teach them the errors of their ways over Lansa’s death. [/hider] [hider=Vigor] Starting 6 Vigor -2 vigor to power up the box of calamity 2 +2 now = 4 -1 vigor to make a new champion, Viho the owl. Ending with 3 vigor [/hider] [hider=Spirit] Viho starting 0 +2 for post = 2 [/hider]