[center][h1]Blue Hues and Red Shades[/h1] [sub]Before Chailiss Saves the Holy Quintet[/sub][/center] [hr] It was odd for a god to be wracked by uncertainty, but there he was- Uncertain. But Chailiss flew on anyway, having found the spirit bird once more. It was taking him towards the bjorklands, farther and farther away from Zima and the champions. The ones he may have sent to their doom. Some adventure they'd be going on, instead of learning of the land and helping its citizens, now they would be hunting down one of his own. For better or for worse, it had to be done. That's what he had to believe. All he could hope was that they weren't stupid enough to try anything. If they died because of Zima… Because of him, he would never be able to forgive himself. His sacred promise of protecting life would be dashed along icy rocks, blood would always flow in the north. Blood… It was what the spirit bird led him to. It was a great bog of the stuff, spreading into the depths of the earth and across it too. The forests fed on it, the soil was discoloured by it - red-gold in every which way. But the smell was in no ways unpleasant - quite the opposite. The trees here vibrated with life as they greedily absorbed the ichor of gods - the golden fluid gyrated and branched out in great twirls and circles up the length of every tree, down every branch, into every leaf. But for the macabre origins of the stuff it would have been beautiful in its way. As Chailiss made his way across the bog and through the trees, he finally came to the wellspring of the bloodbog. It had once been a clearing, a grove in the middle of the forest; now it was a lake of pure ichor. In the middle grew a tree whose bark was as ichor, red and gold, and whose curves betrayed a femininity of form that no tree could achieve by natural means. It called to him, throbbed with life that desired nothing more than release. His expression was one of disbelief and mysticism. Captivated as he was horrified, Chailiss stretched out a hand towards the tree, with all hope in the world that the goddess still lived. His touch sent vibrations through the wood and it held onto him - not physically, but it held onto something in him, breathed him in. Like a child clinging to its mother’s teat, it suckled hungrily and changed before him. The branches retreated and the bark grew into a cloak of red beneath which a white shirt and knee-length pantaloons shaped themselves about skin whose colour - with the welding of gold and red - had become a sun-kissed brown. On her head, leaves transfigured into hair of darkest night on which grew beads of gold, and about her ankles bracelets clattered into being and bangles embraced her wrists. Her eyes were of lightest brown, but seemed - when she looked here or there - to become a pale green, and as consciousness sprung into those eyes a great white snaking line descended from beneath her hair and twirled across her form until she was marked from face to foot with delicate turning patterns that glowed the gentlest white. She glanced down at her hands - perhaps confused, perhaps curious - and then looked up at Chailiss. Her green-again-brown-again eyes took him in blankly, and then she smiled shyly and placed her hands behind her. “You’re very round,” she giggled. Chailiss was taken aback at first, further perplexed by this sudden turn of events. He took a step back to properly take the young girl in. [color=deepskyblue]”Who… Who might you be?”[/color] he asked her, ignoring her comment and feeling in the very air that she was no goddess. She observed him for a few seconds then took in the lake all around and the trees, and the sky above roiling with snow-white clouds. “I…” she started, “I don’t know. I’ve always been here, just standing. I grew and grew, and then I started feeling… feeling everything. I felt you long before you saw me. But seeing is new. It’s different from feeling.” She looked down at her feet and paused for a few seconds. “I don’t quite… feel anymore. Not like before, anyway.” She looked back up at him. Whether she felt anything at the disconnect or not, she did not say. “I should probably ask you who you are right? And why you… well. You changed me, right? I felt that - you touched me right here,” she placed a finger on her forehead, “and then everything changed.” [Color=deepskyblue]"I am Chailiss,"[/color] he began slow, folding his arms across his chest. [Color=deepskyblue]"I… Do not know why you awoke when I reached out. I came here looking for a fellow god. Rosalind was her name. You are not her, are you?"[/color] “Oh, Rosalind. I know her. She used to be,” the girl turned around and gestured to the end of the clearing. A tree stood there with a distinctly humanoid hollow at its base, though the waterline obscured it somewhat, “right there. Someone came and took her not too long ago. It was nice to have her around, we used to chat. She would dance sometimes too - or, well, something would dance. I never quite understood what it was, but it was pretty.” She turned back to Chailiss. “Why are you looking for her?” He followed her gesture, a small wave of relief washing over him, quickly followed by more worry. [Color=deepskyblue]"I was told…"[/color] he looked back at her, [color=deepskyblue]"I was told she needed help but it seems she is gone and now you remain."[/color] “Mmm, yeah. Are you, uh, going to turn me back now?” She looked up at him carefully. “I guess you just needed me so you could know what happened to her,” she gestured behind, “and now you know. Lil ol’ me can go to sleep, right?” She paused. “BUT I WON’T LET YOU!” She turned around with surprising speed and hurtled out of the clearing and off into the forest. He tilted his head, watching her go for a short time and then followed after. [color=deepskyblue]“You are mistaken, child. I’m not going to make you sleep again if that’s not what you wish. Rosalind is gone but you remain and now I must see to you. Now, where are you even going?”[/color] he asked, shrinking down in size so he could avoid the lower tree branches. He found her lying stomach-down on a branch, chin in her palm and feet in the air behind her. “Well, since you’ve given me the power to see and move… I want to use them! I want to see everything. I want to see my bog - it looks so different to how it felt. It’s pretty nice. And I want to see everything beyond it too! Are there other gods? Have they made things other than me? And what about Rosalind? Where’d she go - I’d like to find her and thank her for keeping me company.” She sat up, her feet dangling from the branch as she spread her arms wide. “I want to do [i]everything[/i].” He could not help but smile at the girl. [color=deepskyblue]“You may do so, I assure you. This is the land known as, well, the north by me and my fellow gods. Many of their creations walk upon it, some just like you, if not a bit taller. As for Rosalind,”[/color] he shook his head. [color=deepskyblue]“I do not know what her fate is or who took her. Let us hope she will be alright and that one day you will be able to see and meet her.”[/color] Perhaps this wasn’t such a bad thing. Rosa was gone, yes, but in her place she left a daughter. A mortal he could protect and save. He made to move forward but froze. Chailiss’ smile faltered when a new voice ushered into that clearing. It came from no source he could see, save his very thoughts, like Viho all that time ago. Her voice was unmistakable and her urgency undeniable. It was Kindness with a plea for help. He looked to the unnamed girl, remembering how he had left Zima behind and what had become of her. To save Kindness and her sisters, he could not take her with him. That was certain, but to leave her all alone? No… [color=deepskyblue]“You wish to see the world, yes?”[/color] he said in a quicker voice, walking swiftly towards her. [color=deepskyblue]“You must come with me, there is a danger growing in the west and girls just like you need my help. I will not leave you here alone but I can take you to a place where you can meet others. Please.”[/color] he held out a hand. She stared at his hand for a few seconds, then at how he had floated right up to where she was sat in the tree. “Uh… okay… but only if you teach me how to do that,” she pointed at his flying form, “because that is the coolest thing I’ve seen you do.” He smirked, [color=deepskyblue]“Of course, as a daughter of Rosalind, this can be achieved I think but not now. Now we must depart.”[/color] “Daughter of Ro-” she began, but Chailiss grabbed her hand and pulled her into a gentle embrace. Then before she had any time whatsoever to react he was flying and fast. Over the treetops they ascended and then Chailiss flew west. She clung to him and stared below with wide eyes. She cried out in fear and held on for dear life. After a while - when the initial rush of surprise and terror had passed - her cry turned into a whoop and she laughed and let the icy air wash over her and through her long night-black hair. “This is the best!” She declared, though her voice was quickly lost on the wind. She leaned in closer and shouted into what she thought was the god’s ear. “THIS IS THE BEST!” She let him hold her and slowly let go of him, spreading her arms wide and releasing a long whoop. Any other would have struggled to keep a hold on her with all her odd movements and lack of concern for safety, but it was no struggle for the lord of ice and wind. She turned back to him after she had surveyed the world from so far up. “The trees look so different from above - they’re like the clouds, but on the ground. And green!” She smiled with contentment and leaned back into Chailiss - having managed to struggle until his great rotund form was to her back and his arms circled about her stomach - but jumped wide-eyed when a few seagulls swooped by. “They can do it too?” She asked in awe. But somehow she had already known about them and the knowledge settled down in her mind - affirmed rather than learned. “What did you mean by what you said earlier?” She asked after a while. “How am I a daughter of Rosalind? She was always there, a companion not a parent.” He was quiet for a time, contemplative. When he spoke, his voice came all around her, never muffled by the wind. [color=deepskyblue]“That may be so, that you would see the relationship you had with her as such, but in my own eyes, it’s different. When a god creates living, breathing, thinking life- How could one not call it a child? That place was ripe with her essence and even now I feel it in you. As well as…”[/color] He dipped down and began to descend in a large forested area, his words growing quiet . The trees here were even larger than the ones back at the bog. He did not speak again because quite suddenly they came before a large blue fire, surrounded by the hustle and bustle of other people. All turned to Chailiss and the girl he carried in his arms. They touched down near the flame and were met by a quiet chorus of awe-inspired gazes. [color=deepskyblue]“Where is the Firecharmer?”[/color] he asked aloud, scanning the crowd for Chilali. Hushed whispers came, speaking of her absence and not long after a firekeeper came forth. “Spirit Father, the Firecharmer has departed North to settle a dispute. I am Keeper Alona and at your service.” She gave a small nod and Chailiss gave a sigh of relief. [color=deepskyblue]“Alona, I task you with watching this one.”[/color] He placed a hand on her shoulder and nudged her forward. [color=deepskyblue]“I am needed elsewhere but will return. Answer any and all of her questions, for she is inquisitive. Do this for me and I will be in your debt.”[/color] “Father…” Alona gasped. “Of course! She shall be an honored guest! Uhm, what is your name?” she asked the girl. The girl looked at Alona for a short moment, then glanced at Chailiss. “I’m, uh,” she looked at the fire, then to the childans gathered around, then to the far off trees, “I’m a tree- I mean, Tr… rruuu… ssaa. Trusa. That’s me. Yep. Definitely.” She glanced at Chailiss. “Right?” [color=deepskyblue]“Hmm, perhaps. Perhaps not. A name is a powerful thing. Search yourself, learn from them and you shall see if Trusa is a fit, or not. For now I must leave but I promise, I will return.”[/color] he said, with an intense gaze. She nodded quickly. “Okay! But if you take too long and I feel like wandering then I won’t wait!” She declared, crossing her arms. “And…” she glanced at Alona and leaned towards Chailiss with a lowered voice, “she’s your daughter?” He raised an eyebrow. [color=deepskyblue]“Not exactly… I will explain when I return. So please, wait for me.”[/color] he gave a small smile and a quick nod to Alona then took off. Trusa - as she now called herself - stared after him with a raised eyebrow and huffed. “Gosh. So mysterious.” She turned back to Alona, “so, are you his daughter?” She gestured behind her to where Chailiss was already disappearing over the horizon. “Because it needs a long explanation, apparently.” [hr] [center][sub]After Chailiss Leaves Keltra[/sub][/center] He left Zima behind, the guilt of it wracked him. He never even spoke to her and left his wayward champion at the mercy of Homura. He left, not because he wanted to, but because he needed to. His heart, it was too much to bear and he hated himself for it. Where he went a storm followed, dark and silent as his divinity raced across the sea and into the land. He would have gone straight to the coldest reaches of his realm and drowned himself in sorrow but something stopped him. A remembrance, a small smile and a promise to return. So Chailiss halted in his escape and turned back around. Back to the Site of the First Sin, where she waited. His daughter with a goddess he had never even seen. He knew not how it had happened, only that it had and by all accounts, he could not have another fall. It would destroy him utterly. So he went back with the hope she had remained. He shook his head, for it was not hope that propelled him- but a need. He had to make sure she was alright. For his own sanity, for hers. So he flew and when he arrived in the twilight of the world, all was quiet. Those few sentries looked at him with reverence and others stared. How long had it been since he was last there? Time felt so differently… [color=deepskyblue]“Where is she…?”[/color] he asked, his voice forlorn. The sentries looked to one another, silent. Before any of them could speak, however, Trusa exploded from the forest. “You’re back!” She cried out, “you won’t bel-” she was cut-off as she fell forward and was propelled into Chailiss’ great form before settling on the ground in an untidy heap. “Yachtch,” she muttered into the ground. Relief washed over him as he bent down to help her up. [color=deepskyblue]“It does my heart good to see you again. I am sorry it was not sooner.”[/color] She got up gibbering excitedly, then paused and took in his words. “Oh. It’s okay. I mean, you had important things to be doing. God stuff and all that, very important- and mysterious. You know, [i]I[/i] was busy too!” She smiled mischievously and turned around to the thick trees. “Well c’mon! Why are you hiding in there?” There was quiet for a few seconds. The sentries shuffled uneasily. The undergrowth rustled. “I- uh. I’ve never met-” the dark-haired woman emerged from the dense thicket and stood there looking in all ways disheveled. “I wanted to do it right is all.” She glanced from Trusa to Chailiss, then brought a moonstone hand of a thousand hues of blue and green and black and grey and white to her hair and brushed the twigs and thorns and oddbits from it. Her eyes settled on Chailiss’ great form. “I- uh. I’ve been looking for you a long time, brother. You’re not easy to find- or, well, I guess I’m terrible at finding… stuff.” Chailiss stepped forward, amiss. [color=deepskyblue]“You…”[/color] he breathed, [color=deepskyblue]“You are Rosalind? And you’ve been looking for me? What for?”[/color] he asked, his eyes going between Rosa and Trusa, the resemblance uncanny. More and more Childan began to show up to see the return of him, no doubt. Keeper Alona was there, waiting patiently. He briefly scanned the crowd until he saw a face of the dead… A voiran girl. Quickly he looked away from her inquisitive eyes. Perhaps there was some relief but he seldom brought happy tidings, didn’t he? The goddess scratched her cheek. “I… I’ve been looking for you for so long that I almost forgot why, actually.” She chuckled sheepishly, and Trusa rolled her eyes. “Just get to the point, Rosa. Like a spear!” Trusa told her, making a spearing motion with her hand. “Oh, yeah, like a spear. Well, the thing is- uh.” Rosalind paused. “It doesn’t feel right Trus. Like, just jumping into the whole thing without introductions is a bit weird.” She glanced at Trusa, who was raising an eyebrow at her. Rosalind ignored her. “You- you’ve made something very beautiful here, Chailiss. Even from high up, beyond the sky, it looks beautiful. And now that I’m here I can see that it’s beautiful even from here. I- I guess I should thank you for making something so beautiful.” [color=deepskyblue]“I… Yes. Thank you, Rosalind.”[/color] he nodded, with a small smile. [color=deepskyblue]“Oh, I cannot take all the credit. Zenia, Goddess of Revelry, helped me create this land and these people,”[/color] he pointed to the Childan, [color=deepskyblue]“were given as a gift by Homura, Goddess of Honor, and modified by me. But, yes, thank you. You are very kind.”[/color] Chailiss blinked rapidly. He felt embarrassed for some reason. Were words always so difficult to say? Rosalind looked at Trusa and the giant childans. “Pretty as Trus is,” Rosalind grinned cheekily at the other girl, “she was not the reason I came. And neither were the childans, grand and majestic as they are. And it wasn’t even this landmass with all its forests and rivers and teeming life.” She scratched her forehead with a stone finger, then brushed a dark tress from her face. “It was… I don’t know, there was just something soothing about the world being capped with white. And there was the promise of cool… I liked that. I… uh, I was born with a fever of sorts, so the promise of cool struck me as both beautiful and healing. Serene in a way, you know? It brought me relief and steadiness when everything was quite confusing and frightening. So… yeah, it’s not Homura or Zenia I have to thank for that, but you.” She glanced down at her feet. “And… uh… I think… maybe that’s why you can help me.” She looked up and swallowed nervously. “B-but only if you want. You- you don’t have to if you don’t want to. All I said is still true even if you’d rather not. So- uh, don’t feel you have to.” His eyes became riddled with concern. [color=deepskyblue]“I would be honored to help you, Rosalind, even if you had not said such kind words. I…”[/color] his voice faltered and he looked around, suddenly aware of all the mortals watching them. [color=deepskyblue]“Would you like to take a walk with me?”[/color] he asked in a quiet voice. The goddess glanced at the gathered people, then looked back at Chailiss. “Uh… if you like, yeah.” Rosalind responded. Her eye caught on that of Trusa. “Oh, and can Tr-” “Obviously I can,” the girl said dismissively, “[i]as if[/i] you two can go off and expect me to sit around here.” She wheeled on Chailiss, causing Rosalind to jump, and wagged a finger at him. “I’VE DONE ALL THE SITTING AROUND I’M EVER GOING TO DO. YOU CAN’T MAKE ME DO ANYMORE OF THAT! IF YOU LEAVE WITHOUT ME, I’M GONE!” Chailiss looked at her and tilted his head. [color=deepskyblue]“Ah that may be true but what might Rosa think of that? Leaving her companion by her lonesome.”[/color] he shook his head with a smirk. [color=deepskyblue]“All the same, Rosalind might feel lost without you at her side. Go on then, take her down that path,”[/color] he gestured, [color=deepskyblue]“And I will follow right behind you.”[/color] Grinning from ear to ear, Trusa hooked her arm into Rosalind’s and half-dragged the goddess along with her. The goddess stumbled on her shifting feet, lost balance, then managed to right herself with Trusa’s help and walked alongside her with the odd skip or hop or trembling of her feet. He watched them go for a moment, smile fading before he turned and beckoned to Alona. The Firekeeper came up to him and gave a slight bow. [color=deepskyblue]“I trust she was not too much trouble?”[/color] The Firekeeper shook her head. “Nothing we could not handle, Spirit Father.” [color=deepskyblue]“Good, very good. Later, I need to speak to the young Voiran girl there. The smaller girl with white hair. Do not speak of this to her but ensure she has someone close.”[/color] he whispered to Alona. She looked at him with steely eyes and nodded. Chailiss patted her on the shoulder, then walked off after Trusa and Rosa. [hr] “Oh! I forgot to tell you. You know Chailiss told me the [i]craziest[/i] thing,” Trusa chattered breathlessly as the two eerily similar women walked along, “He told me that you’re my mum!” The goddess paused in surprise and looked back at Chailiss, who was now following close behind, with bemusement. “Uh- I- I’ve never-” Rosalind flushed crimson then turned back and continued walking. “I’m not a mother, so I don’t see how that could have happened. And, uh, I’ve never had a- a mate.” Trusa looked back at Chailiss, a smug look of affirmation on her face. “But I guess Chailiss would know better. The gods work in strange ways and maybe it did happen… somehow. We do look very much alike.” [color=deepskyblue]“Divine… Creation, as it were, can come in many different shapes. One does not need to mate, in this case.”[/color] he said sheepishly. [color=deepskyblue]“That’s not to say reproduction couldn’t occur in such a way. I’ve never seen it with my own eyes but perhaps some of our kin have.”[/color] he followed quickly. Rosalind considered his words without casting a backward glance, then spoke. “So… you’re my daughter.” She stopped where they were in the trees and placed her hands on the other woman’s cheeks, causing Trusa to protest and wave her hands away. The goddess sighed. “I- I would have liked to do it properly. To be there for you when you were little and helpless. To watch you grow…” the goddess muttered sentimentally - which Trusa did not like in the slightest. “What? No! That’s stupid. And not important. I have better things to do than be small and helpless and- and- and cute and all that. Urgh.” She made as if to gag and Rosalind smiled at her antics, though her eyes betrayed a small sadness still. “So she is my daughter? My… creation? As fatherless as I… as [i]we[/i] are motherless?” Rosalind asked, turning her gaze on Chailiss. He shook his head after a moment of contemplation. [color=deepskyblue]“I think all that matters is that she is here now, and you can still be a mother to her. Our creator is not our father in my eyes, but Trusa… she is not fatherless like we. For it was I who awoke her from her slumber and even now a bit of my divinity runs in her blood. Just like yours Rosa.”[/color] It took the goddess a few moments to appreciate the implication of Chailiss’ words, but Trusa had no such trouble. “You’re my dad?!” She exclaimed - not so much shocked as excited. She turned to Rosalind with great animation, took her by the hand, and rushed the few feet to Chailiss. Rosalind let herself be dragged along but otherwise shied from looking at the winter god. “I was wondering why you were being so protective and bossy,” Trusa was laughing, “now it makes sense. Being all paternal and caring, eh?” She half-teased, then lay a hand on one of Chailiss’ great fingers. They were silent for a brief few seconds then, with Trusa grasping both her parents’ hands tightly. Rosalind could only look away shamefacedly and try to keep her feverish feet beneath her from shivering too much. When next she shot a furtive glance at Trusa, she was alarmed to find the white markings on the girl’s body shining brightly. “Uh-” she looked at Chailiss even as her own feet began to shudder beneath her, “is that normal?” He said nothing, but grabbed Trusa’s arm for a better look. [color=deepskyblue]“What is your aspect, Rosa? Mine is cold, and these markings are not of me. They seem to resonate with her excitement.”[/color] The goddess’ eyes widened with fear. “Th- that’s-” she gulped, “I don’t think that’s my-” it was strange saying it, it had never felt like hers, “my aspect.” She glanced down at her feet, which were now beating against the earth, spasms shooting up her legs. “It’s…” a certain terror spread across her face and guilt wracked her eyes, “it’s the fever.” She tightened her grip on Trusa’s hand as the girl’s feet left the ground and she began ascending, the pure white light now pulsing from her eyes. “Wh- we need to do something,” Rosalind managed. Chailiss held onto her, concern splayed out on his face. [color=deepskyblue]“I… What do we do? What is this Fever, Rosa?”[/color] He looked to her. “It… it feeds on- like.” She had never expressed it before. “On sights, smells, sounds. They create emotions and- and the stronger those are- the stronger the fever gets. It feeds on emotions and then...” the goddess looked at Trusa, “and then it dances.” She gulped, seemed to realise that it did not sound bad at all, and continued. “D- dancing is not good. It’s bad. It’s destructive. We have to stop her.” She glanced down at her own feet; their movements had grown ever more intense. “Oh. Oh.” She released the girl and backed away. “I- I have to go.” She whirled on her feverish feet and half-tripped and half-skipped away. “I-it’s bad.” [color=deepskyblue]“No! No, Rosa. Don’t leave! She needs you! I need you!”[/color] Chailiss called after her, his voice becoming frantic as Trusa began to lift ever higher and her form began to waver. But Rosalind did not pause and her burning feet fizzled across the ground and she disappeared into the trees and was soon little more than an echo on the warming wind of the coming spring. Trusa, however, floated still on that sighing air - her head rocked back, her eyelids fluttered, grew heavy, closed; a long breath left her and then she was beyond breath, flesh, blood and the mundanities of mortal forms. There was nothing of her left but light, a light that danced and fluttered, shimmered and twisted and laughed and coaxed and teased - in every colour of the imagination it turned, as vapour and cloud it swirled. Her name then was exuberance, her name was joy, laughter, spring, hope; all that happiness was thought and imagined to be, she was - she was the child snoozing by the warmth of the flame, she was the mother nesting her newborn on her chest, she was the sapling greeting the resurgent sun, she was the light dancing in the depths of darkest night. She was, in sum, Aurora, and all mortal things looked on her dancing and wept for joyous relief and the purgation of all misery. All mortals, aye, but not the immortal Chailiss. Chailiss watched on, a mix of horror and surprise etched like a river across his face. The sky danced and his children would rejoice in their long night of solace but at what cost? Why was there always a cost? First Zima… Now this dancing Aurora and even worse… His gaze turned to linger upon the spot where Rosalind had vanished. A terrible feeling came over him then and he looked to Aurora and a quivering whisper escaped his lips, [color=deepskyblue]”I’m… Sorry.”[/color] The god of cold then sought to find the dancer. It was not a difficult endeavour - for the shaking of earth and heaven found him first. There in the distance where land met sky a scene of limitless harmony and calm washed upon the eye. It could best be described as a slow-moving vortex of striking demureness - no sooner looked upon before its gaze retreated in bashfulness. She seemed a thing of air and ice; ten thousand limbs of earth thus splayed, ten thousand others flaring there - above, below, and circling round with curvature, great breadth, and length. It almost seemed (as Chailiss looked) that an artist’s eye had imagined her, his hand had made and breath ensouled. No stillness was in her at all - her movement seemed an afterthought; the world around her spiraled still and was splayed out as far as sight. In all ways she seemed to be a thing beyond the world and corporeal things, beyond earth, rain, wind, and flame - and yet a force she was, and great, with something of world-ending gait. If horror had been etched upon his face before, now it only deepened into a canyon as he saw the land, its bones, life and all; annihilated in the maelstrom. His heart shattered as if it had been punched and then daggered by a cosmic giant. He felt nothing as the twisting pull of his power leeched outward into his divine form and thus race did he to stop such destruction while he could. As he flew he could only watch as trees became splinters, rock became dust, and the land wrent from existence. At the center of it all was She Who Danced, now more of a dark void - tenebrous hair flung in every which way and form unseen through it - that plunged the world into chaos. He summoned his weapon, the box of calamity and aimed it true, but despite what Rosa was doing, he did not have the strength to use it. Why? He was a stupid God. He drew closer still and this proved to be a foolish mistake. The bangles around Rosa’s feet glowed as molten as the fiery sun and the final beat of her dance ripped his divine flesh asunder, pulling it from his being in most excruciating agony. There was nothing he could do as the orb that he was became nothing but the faintest blue heart. A pinprick that knew only of self preservation. Another mistake, for as bone and flesh and snow and ice tried to coalesce around that struggling shard- Rosalind’s bangles called forth again in the mightiest of crescendos and thus did Chailiss’ fleeting form break like cracks, pulled off his shard and the void claimed him. Thus the god of cold did fall in shock, now nothing more than that small blue flickering shard. As for Rosa, the spirals all about her shrank, were nothing as her twirl collapsed - and all that remained to mark the dance was the cleft that would forever mar the world’s white head. Like a leaf - like wind-swept tears - Rosalind fell from her skybound dancing perch and smiled to think that hell was made for such as her; there was justice in the world. Something did grab her as she fell, for as much agony as he was in, Chailiss was able to create the faintest of impressions to paint himself into the world. Nothing more than a shrouded, blue mist did wrap its arms around the fitting Rosalind. A weeping sigh did escape him as he carried her over a filling void. Where land once was, only ocean would claim. Where the sky once drifted unmarred, now rock danced forevermore. The land was sundered, the west in the North was gone. How long had it all transpired? How long…? How many dead? How many…? The Aurora was over as he flew back now to mighty cliffs that once marked the entry to the west. Now they were a warning to never venture further. How many drowned in those crushing depths? How many…? He searched and searched as Rosalind’s fit quieted. He at last found her, drifting in the setting sun, Trusa no more. Silent as a grave but not dead, no. What little relief it brought was held back only now by responsibility. He had failed. He always failed… He took them to the coldest reaches, past all the green and the rocks and the blues. To the whitest of whites, where cold ruled eternal. Those that survived the calamity would endure, for spring had arrived, with a promise of hope, stifled only by the constant reminder of pain. Chailiss knew only shame and the heavy weight of fatherhood. Not that it mattered… He set them, sleeping and fair, upon the snow as he raised a single, misty hand. He looked past what he could never become again, to the center of it all. There came from the ice a mighty palace of shimmering crystal. It towered over a towerless land, reigning true forever. Encircled by the mightiest of walls. As the ice formed he walked within, raven-haired damsels in either arm. It would be a home. No… A prison. [hider=Summary] While the Homura champs dealt with Zima, Chailiss searched for Rosalind. He does not find her but instead a girl after he touches a tree with her impression in it. The two chat but Kindness begins to pray for Chailliss’ aid, so he takes the girl to the Flamekeepers and tells them to watch her. After the Zima debacle is done, he returns to not only find the girl, now calling herself Trusa but also Rosalind. The three begin to chat in private but with all the good happy feelings, Trusa begins to have a fit. Chailiss asks Rosa for help but she too starts to fit and runs off. Chail can only watch as Trusa becomes Aurora, and dances in the sky, ushering in a beautiful spring in the north. Thinking her lost, Chail goes after Rosalind only to find that she has basically become a small black hole as she dances her way across the west in the north, utterly destroying it. He tries to stop her but her force is much too great and his divine flesh is ripped apart. After her fit ends, Chailiss, now greatly diminished, grabs her, finds Aurora floating in the sky, and with a heavy heart; Takes them to the north pole. There he raises a castle as a home and a prison for those of the feverish sort. [/hider] [hider=Vigor] Chailiss 6 Starting -1 to create the champion, Trusa (Now Aurora) with a simple touch. -3 to Create a monument, Name pending. A large castle sitting at the very center of the north pole. Solitary and confined in a most inhospitable place, it acts to contain the feverish sort, while providing amiable comfort. A home and a prison. 2 Remaining. Rosa 11 Starting -2 to curse/bless Aurora with a feverish fit. She becomes the Aurora of the north, with little volition in the matter. -6 landscape change, Rosa’s feverish fit destroys a good portion of the west in the North, altering it forever more with islands that dance in the sky. 3 remaining [/hider] [hider=Spirit] Aurora Starting 0 +5 =5 [/hider]