Member
Dane
Scrawl Banditta
Lewascan2
Neziul
TheyraIFRIT AND AKANE
(collab with @sadu
This did not sit right with Ifrit.
To be fair, when did anything ever sit right with the god? But staring at the aged book in his hands made a pit in his stomach. This felt… abnormal. No, it felt classified. Like it wasn’t something he was supposed to see. Like he got caught with his hands in the cookie jar.
The low hum of the Dutchman;s engine was the only thing keeping him company on the bridge of the Guild’s flagship. All the other magicians went off on their raid, and the other S-Classes who accompanied him are doing gods-know-what. Hopefully keeping an eye on their juniors.
After his private conversation with his wife, before the voyage started, he got a premonition. A “divine calling” so to say. Usually, these are from his mother. Either giving him a prophecy or simply checking in on her favored son. But this was different. It wasn’t a familial tug, nor a pleasant feeling. It was foreboding. Like a morbid curiosity that makes people wander into the middle of the night.
That premonition led him into the forbidden archives of his library. A place only Mio and himself would ever go, or would even know exists. He prides himself in knowing anything and everything that is kept within the library’s walls. He can tell you what specific book is in what specific case, or recite what versions of a certain series they may have. He knows everything. He should know everything. Then why was there a book he’s never seen before?
The book itself was nothing spectacular. A decrepit leatherbound tome with parchment that looked like it would crumble as soon as it touched. What gave Ifrit concern was what page it was opened to, and the language it was written in.
It was a dead language, one not spoken for thousands of years. It contained forbidden information. Stories and half-truths that hold sensitive information. Worse yet, it made perfect sense to Ifrit.
Now, back on the bridge, he clutches the tome in his hands. Rereading it for the hundredth time, hoping he misunderstood something. He didn’t, he rarely does. The curse of his true power, some might say.
He sighed and closed the book for the final time. Whispering a layered incantation, he temporally locked the book. Making it anchored in time. Nothing could open it, interact with it, or even touch it. It now exists in a point of time that has not yet been reached. It’s the most secure option he had
He closed his eyes and felt the ticking hand of a massive grandfather clock. One so supernaturally large it encompasses everywhere all at once. He’s tapping into his mother’s domain. Usually, the Rivers of Time are barred to everyone except Chronus. But, he has special exception. By walking through the fonts where time ends and begins, he can force a projection of himself into another point in time. Similar to a thought projection, but a little more whole. He’s not dividing his power into two halves, he’s making an echo of himself appear in a completely separate point.
He might need all his power for what will come next.
He fractures through the barrier between temporal and material, and manifests his echo into the Guildhall. Surely, such a paracausal breach will be noticed by the Guild’s guardian. Its exactly what he wanted.
“Akane, we need to talk.”
One could only imagine what the fox was up to. Having plenty of free time since the trial, and the… unfortunate events that followed, she was left mostly to herself. Even so, when Ifrit summoned her, it was almost too convenient that she was nearby in an instant, almost as if she had been waiting for him. That likely wasn’t the case though, she was just unnaturally fast when she wanted to be.
She just sat there, in her smallest fox form, staring at Ifrit, tilting her head as if questioning what it was he wanted. It was not rare for her to be called upon, but by Ifrit… well that was unheard of.
Ifrit approached the fox with a hesitant trepidation. I stared down at the vulpine figure with the weight of eternity in his eyes. “To whom am I speaking to? The fox or the god?” A blatant accusation. A challenge. A declaration. He’s calling her out.
The stories of that mysterious image filled his head. They clouded his mind like an evil thought that refused to die. I wished what he learnt was wrong, but it made things make too much sense.
Akane had a short moment, a little… ‘Ah, so that’s what this is about’. As she had a brief think to herself. Honestly it was a wonder it took this long for him to realize it. She reached up with her hind leg, scratching behind her ear, not seeming too worried about the whole situation. But she did ultimately shift into her more normal, human form, crossing her arms as she looked up at the taller man. “Why not both? You have always spoken to me.” She looked him over for a few long moments, before adding “Does whatever it is you have learned about me concern you? Whatever my assurance is worth to you, it really isn’t a big deal. Were it something you should concern yourself over, I would have told you. Or Ur would have told you.”
Though it crossed her mind she didn’t really know what it was he knew, or how he came about whatever information he did. “Why don’t you tell me what it is you learned, and why it concerns you so?”
Ifrit took a deep breath, trying to cool himself down. He wanted to feel frustrated, threatened even. Another God, so close to his domain yet flying blatantly under his nose. She was powerful. She was a threat. She came here to kill him, like so many others-
Ur’s words cut like a spring wind in his mind. Her wish for Ifrit to “play nice with the other S-Classes”. He sighed. Akane was right. If she was truly a threat, Ur would have told him. Or something would have happened already. Still, knowing a small glimpse of her true story put the young god on edge.
“A premonition came to me. Not one from a deity that I have known before. It gave me a book I’ve never seen. In my own library.” He leaned on a supporting wooden beam. “It showed me a legend about a tyrant drake and a fox that absorbed its soul. This story is about you, isn’t it?”
“What happened to that god? The book said you killed it, but you stink of its soul. It’s still around, isn’t it?”
With a slight sigh, Akane stretched a bit. Having been a fox so much was a bit aching. “You’re usually a smart man Ifrit, why don’t you answer this question, for yourself. Who writes the books of history? Is it… honest people, who just want to record what happened for future generations?” She let that question sit for a minute, before she answered it. “We both know, whoever is left, is who writes history. Whoever wins, writes history. If tomorrow, Crais came to our guild and wiped us out, were she able… would history remember us as a guild who stood against her for the better of the world, or would history forever label us as rebels who wanted to bring anarchy to a nation?”
With that thought lingering, she finally answered his question. “There was no tyrant. She was a beloved God. You should know, to this day the people of that land pray for the return of their deity. But Gods are not often kind, are they? Many of them only seek power. Power over mortals. Power over other Gods. If you picked any God, from anywhere, and offered them the opportunity to be the only God left in the world, chances are they would take it with glee. And so, as happens too often in history, the God of that land was betrayed.”
Her sword appeared behind her, a sword that seemed too large for her small frame to wield. It floated, bobbing as it was held up by some unseen force. She put her hand on it, and slid her palm along the metal. “Kitsune are supposed to be guides for lost souls. I’m just fulfilling my duty is all. And when I was gone, history wrote away the events of that day, and they needed a new villain for the story they had written.” She looked back to Ifrit, adding, “As you can see, it doesn’t always matter what you read in a book. She is in my care, and will be until the day she reawakens.”
The old proverbs of conquerors and history isn’t one lost on Ifrit. Nor was the notion of gods and their power hungry disposition. He’s no stranger to killing gods, nor taking their power for himself. All the more reason he has to be weary around his "brethren". But, to see the soul of a god being shepherded around by a fox spirit is… unsettling, to say the least.
To fully kill a god, you have to erase their spirit. Their divine consciousness can live on, even without a corporeal vessel. In fact, the true power of a god comes from that very soul. Its something that they treasure the most. The very font of their might, the source of their power.
In all the gods Ifrit has seen, and those he has killed, they all had one similarity in common. They would rather destroy the very ground they stand on than risk their soul being destroyed or consumed. So to see Akane address the subject so casually unsettles him. He did not know this god, beloved as they were or not. But now, seeing her caress the blade, he can feel how powerful it was. Strong, easily stronger than he was, limitations counting. This only spoke to Akane's true might. How did she manage to subdue it? How could she have masked its presence so thoroughly? Or, was the god even subdued at all? Was there some contract made in between them? An agreement of sorts?
No matter how much Ifrit thought, all conclusions led to more questions. “You placed a charm on the blade, didn’t you? I cannot focus on the blade, nor the god’s soul. A misdirection, of sorts?” Ifrit hated yokai magic.
“Why hide it, though?” He still seemed tense, but much more at ease. Less accusatory, and more inquisitive? “I can understand masking its true intention from the lower classes. Hells, I can even see why you wouldn’t say the truth to some other S-classes, but why from me? From Mizore, or Ur-”
The thoughts connected in place. In an epiphany, he understood. “They know, don’t they. They always knew. You did not hide it from them, you hid it from me.”
He could not speak for the other S-Classes in the guild, but he knew Ur and Mizore like no one else did. Ur, for… obvious reasons. And Mizore for the contract he made with her. They are both smart, powerful, and exactly the type of people who would know if a fox spirit was hiding a god’s soul in their guild. Akane would have told them, surely. Those three have been in the guild for generations. Unlike Ifrit, who only officially joined recently.
That doesn’t change his role. He is the second-in-command of the Guild. The owner of the guild’s library. Its secretary, its bankroll, its-
He should have known about this. He should have figured it out, or been told, or something! It was hidden from him, a direct play against him! What did they plan for? Did they want to fool him into violating the domain of another god? Were they planning to use this god’s spirit to directly fight him? Kill him? Take his power like he’s done to so many others? Consume his soul? Bind his soul to a-
Ifrit slammed his head against the wall. He was spiraling. He had to focus. There was no attack. There was no threat. There is no slight against him. He’s making this problem larger than it really is.
He sighed, finally speaking up after he recollected himself. “Why hide it from me?”
Akane all the while, sat back, letting him go through it all. She just stared at him, mostly blank faced, hand on the sword. When he finally asked a more, simple question… she answered just as simply.
“How many Gods have you met, Ifrit? And how many of those Gods still live? If it were you in my place, and you were the shepherd of a God’s soul… would you tell you about it?” He had to admit, his history with other Gods wasn’t the best. If anything was going to be a threat to the soul of a God… it would be him.
“As for who knows… of course Ur knows. I wouldn’t hide anything from her. Mizore? She probably knows. She is a creature of many masks, who thinks she is clever, playing every side she can for her own purposes. I care not what she knows.” She then let out a long sigh, and rather than speaking, Ifrit heard a voice in his head. It was her voice, and yet not… as if he was speaking to someone, or something entirely different. Yet it was assuredly her voice, no matter how, different. And what she said, was the honest truth to him, that only he would hear.
After saying what she did… she added one little touch after it all just to really get him to realize what the situation between the two of them was, and why she had always had such a distant relationship with him. What she said, was once again for his mind only, and was far more eye opening than what she had just said prior.
Ifrit’s eyes glossed over in a stupor. Out of every outcome that could have happened, this was the last thing he ever expected. He knew what she said was truth, he was a known God-Slayer. Not just by title, but by action as well. If he were in her position, he too would keep the soul of this god a secret.
That was not what shocked him. That much he could expect (though, in total honesty, he did expect more hostility from the fox. Just goes to show how much he truly knows about the other S-Classes). What she whispered in his mind is what left him dazed.
“Y-you and… Wha? N-but that means I- And y-?” He’s blabbering. His circuit’s fried. He keeps stammering for a bit before he forgets whose company he’s in. He clears his throat and stands straight. All sense of trepidation, anxiety, and stress has left his body. In place, his cheeks are flushed red, he’s embarrassed.
“Well… Lady Akane, I- What I mean to say is-” All attempted sense of grandiose deflates within him. He slumps his back a little in defeat and says. “I… I was wrong. I’m- I am sorry.” He would try to put a hand out to shake hers, but this isn’t one of his boardroom deals. He accepts that this is probably as far as he will get for today, and turns away to leave.
Another revelation fills his mind as he stops midway. Turning to face Akane again, he says “As the God of Acquisition, and a member of the Kronosian Pantheon, I… The god you ferry around may be more familiar with the subject of deific sovereignty than you. In essence, the god’s of other pantheons do not interact with each other unless there’s express intention for action. An agreement between two beliefs, an honor duel to determine territory, or… Or to consume their soul and inherit their power. I-” He stammers a bit, still not fully recovering from what Akane has said.
“Someone is out against you. Either for you, your charge, or both. That book I found was never a part of the library's collection. Something put it there, and something led me to find it. It’s from an old language. Not foreign to this world, but old. Far beyond ancient. If… If there is anything I can do to help, tell me. I will gladly break the deific sovereignty. On that, I give you my binding vow.”
Binding vows are practical sacrament to Kronos and her ilk. They’re oaths tied to their very domain, notarized by time, and are all powerful. To god’s in the Kronosian Pantheon, a binding vow means an oath they cannot break. In a way, it gives the oath bearer total control over their very soul. It's not a promise they can turn back, or something they can avoid. It means total dedication to the vow. Ifrit has only ever given his binding vow once before. On his wedding day.
There was a moment of silence, before Akane made a noise, something between dismissive and awkward. “It’s nothing to be so dramatic over… but if you are going to be like that about it.” Another pause, and she turned away. “If you ever hear anything about the God Susanoo, then you tell me.”
And with that there was a flash, a bolt of lightning, and all that was left in her place was a book, floating just like her sword had been. It was definitely not a normal book, and even had a bit of visible static arcing across the surface. Her voice echoed in his head again, though just a short ‘Open that when you want to know the truth about what happened back then. But don’t rush it.’
Some time after, now back across the River of Time, Ifrit sat back on the bridge of the Flying Dutchman, his mind on the two books in his hands. One, emanating a primordial static, and the other an aura of malfeasance. His mother gave him a premonition. Of rise and ruin, of drown and duress, of redemption and light. He knew this was the beginning of something. A legend? A story? He could not tell so early.
Sighing, he chanted some words of power using one of his consumed Stories. They sounded like three voices all speaking in different cadence, layered over each other and slightly off time. The mysterious book fractured and disappeared. He placed a stronger temporal lock on it. One that cannot be undone as easily as the one before. He sent it through the River into the restricted section of his Library. Chronus knows Mio would learn about it as soon as it appears. But for now, it’s the safest place for it to be.
He retreats to the captain quarters. A simple room. With bookshelves, a lounge chair, a study, an assortment of magical pens, and a conspicuous hourglass. He sat at his study and let the low hums of the engine lull him into a trance, as he opened the book Akane gave him and began to learn a new story.
(collab with @sadu
This did not sit right with Ifrit.
To be fair, when did anything ever sit right with the god? But staring at the aged book in his hands made a pit in his stomach. This felt… abnormal. No, it felt classified. Like it wasn’t something he was supposed to see. Like he got caught with his hands in the cookie jar.
The low hum of the Dutchman;s engine was the only thing keeping him company on the bridge of the Guild’s flagship. All the other magicians went off on their raid, and the other S-Classes who accompanied him are doing gods-know-what. Hopefully keeping an eye on their juniors.
After his private conversation with his wife, before the voyage started, he got a premonition. A “divine calling” so to say. Usually, these are from his mother. Either giving him a prophecy or simply checking in on her favored son. But this was different. It wasn’t a familial tug, nor a pleasant feeling. It was foreboding. Like a morbid curiosity that makes people wander into the middle of the night.
That premonition led him into the forbidden archives of his library. A place only Mio and himself would ever go, or would even know exists. He prides himself in knowing anything and everything that is kept within the library’s walls. He can tell you what specific book is in what specific case, or recite what versions of a certain series they may have. He knows everything. He should know everything. Then why was there a book he’s never seen before?
The book itself was nothing spectacular. A decrepit leatherbound tome with parchment that looked like it would crumble as soon as it touched. What gave Ifrit concern was what page it was opened to, and the language it was written in.
It was a dead language, one not spoken for thousands of years. It contained forbidden information. Stories and half-truths that hold sensitive information. Worse yet, it made perfect sense to Ifrit.
Now, back on the bridge, he clutches the tome in his hands. Rereading it for the hundredth time, hoping he misunderstood something. He didn’t, he rarely does. The curse of his true power, some might say.
He sighed and closed the book for the final time. Whispering a layered incantation, he temporally locked the book. Making it anchored in time. Nothing could open it, interact with it, or even touch it. It now exists in a point of time that has not yet been reached. It’s the most secure option he had
He closed his eyes and felt the ticking hand of a massive grandfather clock. One so supernaturally large it encompasses everywhere all at once. He’s tapping into his mother’s domain. Usually, the Rivers of Time are barred to everyone except Chronus. But, he has special exception. By walking through the fonts where time ends and begins, he can force a projection of himself into another point in time. Similar to a thought projection, but a little more whole. He’s not dividing his power into two halves, he’s making an echo of himself appear in a completely separate point.
He might need all his power for what will come next.
He fractures through the barrier between temporal and material, and manifests his echo into the Guildhall. Surely, such a paracausal breach will be noticed by the Guild’s guardian. Its exactly what he wanted.
“Akane, we need to talk.”
One could only imagine what the fox was up to. Having plenty of free time since the trial, and the… unfortunate events that followed, she was left mostly to herself. Even so, when Ifrit summoned her, it was almost too convenient that she was nearby in an instant, almost as if she had been waiting for him. That likely wasn’t the case though, she was just unnaturally fast when she wanted to be.
She just sat there, in her smallest fox form, staring at Ifrit, tilting her head as if questioning what it was he wanted. It was not rare for her to be called upon, but by Ifrit… well that was unheard of.
Ifrit approached the fox with a hesitant trepidation. I stared down at the vulpine figure with the weight of eternity in his eyes. “To whom am I speaking to? The fox or the god?” A blatant accusation. A challenge. A declaration. He’s calling her out.
The stories of that mysterious image filled his head. They clouded his mind like an evil thought that refused to die. I wished what he learnt was wrong, but it made things make too much sense.
Akane had a short moment, a little… ‘Ah, so that’s what this is about’. As she had a brief think to herself. Honestly it was a wonder it took this long for him to realize it. She reached up with her hind leg, scratching behind her ear, not seeming too worried about the whole situation. But she did ultimately shift into her more normal, human form, crossing her arms as she looked up at the taller man. “Why not both? You have always spoken to me.” She looked him over for a few long moments, before adding “Does whatever it is you have learned about me concern you? Whatever my assurance is worth to you, it really isn’t a big deal. Were it something you should concern yourself over, I would have told you. Or Ur would have told you.”
Though it crossed her mind she didn’t really know what it was he knew, or how he came about whatever information he did. “Why don’t you tell me what it is you learned, and why it concerns you so?”
Ifrit took a deep breath, trying to cool himself down. He wanted to feel frustrated, threatened even. Another God, so close to his domain yet flying blatantly under his nose. She was powerful. She was a threat. She came here to kill him, like so many others-
Ur’s words cut like a spring wind in his mind. Her wish for Ifrit to “play nice with the other S-Classes”. He sighed. Akane was right. If she was truly a threat, Ur would have told him. Or something would have happened already. Still, knowing a small glimpse of her true story put the young god on edge.
“A premonition came to me. Not one from a deity that I have known before. It gave me a book I’ve never seen. In my own library.” He leaned on a supporting wooden beam. “It showed me a legend about a tyrant drake and a fox that absorbed its soul. This story is about you, isn’t it?”
“What happened to that god? The book said you killed it, but you stink of its soul. It’s still around, isn’t it?”
With a slight sigh, Akane stretched a bit. Having been a fox so much was a bit aching. “You’re usually a smart man Ifrit, why don’t you answer this question, for yourself. Who writes the books of history? Is it… honest people, who just want to record what happened for future generations?” She let that question sit for a minute, before she answered it. “We both know, whoever is left, is who writes history. Whoever wins, writes history. If tomorrow, Crais came to our guild and wiped us out, were she able… would history remember us as a guild who stood against her for the better of the world, or would history forever label us as rebels who wanted to bring anarchy to a nation?”
With that thought lingering, she finally answered his question. “There was no tyrant. She was a beloved God. You should know, to this day the people of that land pray for the return of their deity. But Gods are not often kind, are they? Many of them only seek power. Power over mortals. Power over other Gods. If you picked any God, from anywhere, and offered them the opportunity to be the only God left in the world, chances are they would take it with glee. And so, as happens too often in history, the God of that land was betrayed.”
Her sword appeared behind her, a sword that seemed too large for her small frame to wield. It floated, bobbing as it was held up by some unseen force. She put her hand on it, and slid her palm along the metal. “Kitsune are supposed to be guides for lost souls. I’m just fulfilling my duty is all. And when I was gone, history wrote away the events of that day, and they needed a new villain for the story they had written.” She looked back to Ifrit, adding, “As you can see, it doesn’t always matter what you read in a book. She is in my care, and will be until the day she reawakens.”
The old proverbs of conquerors and history isn’t one lost on Ifrit. Nor was the notion of gods and their power hungry disposition. He’s no stranger to killing gods, nor taking their power for himself. All the more reason he has to be weary around his "brethren". But, to see the soul of a god being shepherded around by a fox spirit is… unsettling, to say the least.
To fully kill a god, you have to erase their spirit. Their divine consciousness can live on, even without a corporeal vessel. In fact, the true power of a god comes from that very soul. Its something that they treasure the most. The very font of their might, the source of their power.
In all the gods Ifrit has seen, and those he has killed, they all had one similarity in common. They would rather destroy the very ground they stand on than risk their soul being destroyed or consumed. So to see Akane address the subject so casually unsettles him. He did not know this god, beloved as they were or not. But now, seeing her caress the blade, he can feel how powerful it was. Strong, easily stronger than he was, limitations counting. This only spoke to Akane's true might. How did she manage to subdue it? How could she have masked its presence so thoroughly? Or, was the god even subdued at all? Was there some contract made in between them? An agreement of sorts?
No matter how much Ifrit thought, all conclusions led to more questions. “You placed a charm on the blade, didn’t you? I cannot focus on the blade, nor the god’s soul. A misdirection, of sorts?” Ifrit hated yokai magic.
“Why hide it, though?” He still seemed tense, but much more at ease. Less accusatory, and more inquisitive? “I can understand masking its true intention from the lower classes. Hells, I can even see why you wouldn’t say the truth to some other S-classes, but why from me? From Mizore, or Ur-”
The thoughts connected in place. In an epiphany, he understood. “They know, don’t they. They always knew. You did not hide it from them, you hid it from me.”
He could not speak for the other S-Classes in the guild, but he knew Ur and Mizore like no one else did. Ur, for… obvious reasons. And Mizore for the contract he made with her. They are both smart, powerful, and exactly the type of people who would know if a fox spirit was hiding a god’s soul in their guild. Akane would have told them, surely. Those three have been in the guild for generations. Unlike Ifrit, who only officially joined recently.
That doesn’t change his role. He is the second-in-command of the Guild. The owner of the guild’s library. Its secretary, its bankroll, its-
He should have known about this. He should have figured it out, or been told, or something! It was hidden from him, a direct play against him! What did they plan for? Did they want to fool him into violating the domain of another god? Were they planning to use this god’s spirit to directly fight him? Kill him? Take his power like he’s done to so many others? Consume his soul? Bind his soul to a-
Ifrit slammed his head against the wall. He was spiraling. He had to focus. There was no attack. There was no threat. There is no slight against him. He’s making this problem larger than it really is.
He sighed, finally speaking up after he recollected himself. “Why hide it from me?”
Akane all the while, sat back, letting him go through it all. She just stared at him, mostly blank faced, hand on the sword. When he finally asked a more, simple question… she answered just as simply.
“How many Gods have you met, Ifrit? And how many of those Gods still live? If it were you in my place, and you were the shepherd of a God’s soul… would you tell you about it?” He had to admit, his history with other Gods wasn’t the best. If anything was going to be a threat to the soul of a God… it would be him.
“As for who knows… of course Ur knows. I wouldn’t hide anything from her. Mizore? She probably knows. She is a creature of many masks, who thinks she is clever, playing every side she can for her own purposes. I care not what she knows.” She then let out a long sigh, and rather than speaking, Ifrit heard a voice in his head. It was her voice, and yet not… as if he was speaking to someone, or something entirely different. Yet it was assuredly her voice, no matter how, different. And what she said, was the honest truth to him, that only he would hear.
After saying what she did… she added one little touch after it all just to really get him to realize what the situation between the two of them was, and why she had always had such a distant relationship with him. What she said, was once again for his mind only, and was far more eye opening than what she had just said prior.
Ifrit’s eyes glossed over in a stupor. Out of every outcome that could have happened, this was the last thing he ever expected. He knew what she said was truth, he was a known God-Slayer. Not just by title, but by action as well. If he were in her position, he too would keep the soul of this god a secret.
That was not what shocked him. That much he could expect (though, in total honesty, he did expect more hostility from the fox. Just goes to show how much he truly knows about the other S-Classes). What she whispered in his mind is what left him dazed.
“Y-you and… Wha? N-but that means I- And y-?” He’s blabbering. His circuit’s fried. He keeps stammering for a bit before he forgets whose company he’s in. He clears his throat and stands straight. All sense of trepidation, anxiety, and stress has left his body. In place, his cheeks are flushed red, he’s embarrassed.
“Well… Lady Akane, I- What I mean to say is-” All attempted sense of grandiose deflates within him. He slumps his back a little in defeat and says. “I… I was wrong. I’m- I am sorry.” He would try to put a hand out to shake hers, but this isn’t one of his boardroom deals. He accepts that this is probably as far as he will get for today, and turns away to leave.
Another revelation fills his mind as he stops midway. Turning to face Akane again, he says “As the God of Acquisition, and a member of the Kronosian Pantheon, I… The god you ferry around may be more familiar with the subject of deific sovereignty than you. In essence, the god’s of other pantheons do not interact with each other unless there’s express intention for action. An agreement between two beliefs, an honor duel to determine territory, or… Or to consume their soul and inherit their power. I-” He stammers a bit, still not fully recovering from what Akane has said.
“Someone is out against you. Either for you, your charge, or both. That book I found was never a part of the library's collection. Something put it there, and something led me to find it. It’s from an old language. Not foreign to this world, but old. Far beyond ancient. If… If there is anything I can do to help, tell me. I will gladly break the deific sovereignty. On that, I give you my binding vow.”
Binding vows are practical sacrament to Kronos and her ilk. They’re oaths tied to their very domain, notarized by time, and are all powerful. To god’s in the Kronosian Pantheon, a binding vow means an oath they cannot break. In a way, it gives the oath bearer total control over their very soul. It's not a promise they can turn back, or something they can avoid. It means total dedication to the vow. Ifrit has only ever given his binding vow once before. On his wedding day.
There was a moment of silence, before Akane made a noise, something between dismissive and awkward. “It’s nothing to be so dramatic over… but if you are going to be like that about it.” Another pause, and she turned away. “If you ever hear anything about the God Susanoo, then you tell me.”
And with that there was a flash, a bolt of lightning, and all that was left in her place was a book, floating just like her sword had been. It was definitely not a normal book, and even had a bit of visible static arcing across the surface. Her voice echoed in his head again, though just a short ‘Open that when you want to know the truth about what happened back then. But don’t rush it.’
Some time after, now back across the River of Time, Ifrit sat back on the bridge of the Flying Dutchman, his mind on the two books in his hands. One, emanating a primordial static, and the other an aura of malfeasance. His mother gave him a premonition. Of rise and ruin, of drown and duress, of redemption and light. He knew this was the beginning of something. A legend? A story? He could not tell so early.
Sighing, he chanted some words of power using one of his consumed Stories. They sounded like three voices all speaking in different cadence, layered over each other and slightly off time. The mysterious book fractured and disappeared. He placed a stronger temporal lock on it. One that cannot be undone as easily as the one before. He sent it through the River into the restricted section of his Library. Chronus knows Mio would learn about it as soon as it appears. But for now, it’s the safest place for it to be.
He retreats to the captain quarters. A simple room. With bookshelves, a lounge chair, a study, an assortment of magical pens, and a conspicuous hourglass. He sat at his study and let the low hums of the engine lull him into a trance, as he opened the book Akane gave him and began to learn a new story.
