Vowzra, God of Time
Might: 4
Vowzra watched as the fuming, foaming, frothing darkness released the last of his siblings. Or was it truly the last? The future was divided much, the Strong One had not emerged. It was rather frightening, the difference which the emergence of a god, or lack thereof, could have have on the futures. His vision was blurry, however. He could not see any single future clearly, only snippets. He was not yet strong enough, his mind was unfocused and incapable of mustering the full might of its powers. It all hung in the balance though, there was yet time for that one to emerge...but it was no good to not rise when called. Not even the strength of the Strong One would protect it from the harm that came with delaying obedience of the ultimate command.
Placing that matter to the side, the Timeless One allowed his gaze to slowly drift over those of his brethren who had responded to the summons. Arguis, the knowledgeable one, the one with an eye that could see things even Vowzra could not. This one of sight had come dressed in the garb of war. Vowzra could see snippets of the yet uncertain future, and he saw the potential ally in Arguis, and he saw the most bitter and loathed foe. It was difficult when knowledge collided with knowledge, one could not doubt the correctness and superiority of one's own sight, and if there was another who saw differently, and with a piercing certainty, then it was most difficult to reconcile that contradicting, certain knowledge with one's own certain knowledge. Yes, Arguis would be a most valuable ally, but so would he be a most bitter rival. Vowzra would not have any way but his; it was the future he saw that would be, the order he chose that would come about, the chaos he willed that would arise. Nothing would happen except that he approved of it and willed it, and he willed as Time willed. No god who thought himself the master of knowledge would shake him from his unswerving path.
This is a path, he thought to himself,
in my eyes straight; and I the unyielding arrow.Turning from Knowledgeable One, Vowzra set his eyes upon the one around whom even the darkness trembled in reverence and delight, Astarte. Or perhaps that was simply her aura. Vowzra felt a deep, unfounded familiarity with this one. There was something about her, but he could not quite put his proverbial finger on it. He could not say he felt any particular warmth or had a special liking to her, but he felt that there was a connection, a link that his mind was dancing around but incapable of comprehending. It did not please him at all to know with certainty that there is knowledge he once knew that was now beyond his reach. It further aggrieved him to see that her future was even more blurred than that of others. He could not see whether she would be a valuable ally or not, one who would stick to unswervingly to the correct path or one who would have to be combatted and neutralised. It was often so that the most beautiful shells hid within them the ugliest of realities. Despite his attempts at maintaining a cautious - verging on the hostile - view of her, something within him, and he knew not what it was, told him to bring this one close and nurture a friendship.
Patience and Time will unveil all.He felt the same strange feeling towards the Divided One, Vestec. It was the same unfounded familiarity. What was the link here, he wondered. Whatever it was, however, Vowzra was pleased that one such as this one was Fated to be here. He could see the future with a clarity unlike any of the others. He could not help a knowing, though mirthless, smile.
The one who carries the banner of chaos obeys the will of Time the most, such irony. But regardless, this one's state of being, four essences rather than one, meant that its entire future could change completely as each awakened. While the chaotic one did indeed obey the will of Time, it was also the one whom Time allowed the strangest...
flexibility. Vowzra would see, but it appeared that the United One would be keeping this one in check. Vowzra may well find his job that much easier.
Then there was the Weeping One, whose tears would be oceans and seas. A suffering one, the subject of a most cruel Fate. Cruel? Was it truly cruel? No, he could not say it was; Fate did not favour or hinder anyone. Fate did not pity anyone, it did not delight in the suffering of others. It did only as was necessary. All suffering is justified, all bliss well-reasoned. Vowzra, despite attempting, could not truly fee pity or sympathy or delight at her state. It was all as it should be, she should be thankful. Yet she was not, and her other self was one who delighted in being everything she was not. Vowzra wondered if one could delight in causing their own self pain and suffering. Perhaps there were creatures who were such degraded masochists that they did not need an external sadist at all, they had their very own internal one. This one was one to watch, it would be one to befriend at times, and it would be one to neutralise at others. He would have to work carefully, keeping the future on the correct path was a very precise art-form. One had to know when to nip a potential catastrophe in the bud and when to stage a catastrophe where one could never have existed. This one would be very useful.
Even the world of gods requires its own pawns.His gaze continued over the others, Ferghus. The Fiery One. He was a strategic ally, but one who, very much like fire, would burn the hand which fed him as readily as the wood it extends to him. He was one to approach, but he was also one not to be trusted with one's back.
Fire is an indiscriminate and ungrateful thing, but useful in trained and wary hands.And what of this one who was in every away opposed to Fergus' fire? For the moment at least. Sveiand, the Cold One. Vowzra watched him as he joined them, last of all - and yet he had witnessed the rise of each one of them. He was a being who who had yet to grow, not just as a god. He had yet to grow and find himself. His present was cold and frozen, but Vowzra could see a very different future...
Evelynn. Here was a true mystery. Vowzra could see nothing. It irked him greatly, he could not even sense how she felt. For all he knew, her strange gestures - hugging herself, looking from side to side in an implied state of worry - was all an act. Was it possible that this one had no written Fate? That could not be...he had sensed her coming after all, she was Fated to be here. He would have to watch he very vigilantly, he would need to see over what she reigned supreme and why he could see nothing of her future.
It is most strange, staring into a future that only holds the abyss.The Reptilian, Sauranath, seemed to have little on its mind beside creating beings in its own image. It was a powerful being however, and despite the haziness of what Vowzra could see of its future, he could see it was a dependable one, if not rather strange in its thinking and priorities.
Finally, last of all, his eyes settled upon Escre, the Guardian of Life, the distant warden who overlooked all. This was one with a purpose. This was one with vision as steel, it saw with an eye sharper than others, even sharper than Vowzra's own. It saw the greater context, the great goal, even if it did not exactly understand it. Though he knew it was a creature foreign to 'belonging', he could not but feel a certain...empathy with this one. Though they saw with different eyes, they both looked upon the same greater plan, and their goals were, even if they should pursue different means, the very same.
Woe to we, who are outsiders, and what great joy.'You are Risen'
The two great beings, Fate and Invictus, spoke in unison, their voices penetrating Vowzra's mind. The sound washed over him in a strange manner, but simultaneously, it felt as if he had spoken into a cave and the echoes of his voice were returning to him. These were mighty beings indeed. He felt a sudden urge to ascend further upwards and turn towards them, regarding them in all their ethereal splendour. He had the strangest feeling that it was not only him who had this sudden urge, but that it was an urge all the newly risen gods would have, to form up in a semi-circle before the great beings.
'It is time'
It was only Fate who spoke this time, as Vowzra knew, yet upon hearing these words Vowzra felt a sudden understanding and conviction. He knew what he had to do; he, the Governor of Creation, Lord of Time. As this sudden understanding filled him, Invictus raised an ethereal arm. At the end of his arm, there began to gather a strange energy. Vowzra could not tell whether it originated from within Invictus or from without, but as it gathered it grew in strength and weight. Soon enough, the power was overwhelming, yet it continued to grow until it began to weigh down on the god. And even as it weighed down on him, it continued to grow and so too did the strain it put on him to simply be in its presence. As it grew, it began to blot out the existences of his brethren, so powerful was it that he could no longer feel them. It was like trying to see a fly which flew into the waiting heat of an all-consuming star. Yet it did not stop, it grew, and Vowzra felt fear once more. This was power capable of utterly destroying him and his brethren many, many times over. It grew until Vowzra did not think it could grow any further, it grew until Vowzra could not even sense himself, he doubted his very existence. He wondered, and his thoughts came to him from a far away place,
'Do I exist?'He was not certain if he had simply thought it or spoken out loud. As he listened, he thought he heard other voices. Was someone speaking? He strained to listen, but then he was no longer he. He did not exist in order to be he. He did not exist in order to have ears to listen. He did not exist in order to have thoughts or a mind or even his own, individual essence, he was part of something so...much...greater...
And then it was over. Or at least, it was over for the moment.
Vowzra looked up at the point where the energy had been gathering before Invictus. There was a single, dark spherical shape. It was minuscule in size and was deathly still and silent. Even in the stillness of the nothingness, it was more still. But unlike the nothingness, within that dark sphere was
something.
Without a word from either of the two beings - perhaps they were just as awe-struck by the power they had witnessed that they also could not speak - the sphere descended down and halted before Vowzra, waiting. It was waiting upon him. Vowzra allowed himself to see it, sense it, feel it. It was crippling; he withdrew in horrified shock. How such mass and energy could occupy such a limited space was an enigma beyond even his knowledge. But he knew what he had to do. He had to fix his power to this, he would be the catalyst, for he was the Governor of Creation. Then, one by one, his siblings would fix their power to it. Then it would complete its fated circuit and return to Invictus. What would happen once it returned...even thinking about it caused Vowzra to shudder slightly.
'Thus must it be'
It was Fate once more.
Thus must it be. Yes, that was most true. Without further hesitation or thought, Vowzra placed a wooden hand over the sphere. He felt the strangest sensation as his very essence reacted to the presence of the orb and he felt a pull on his consciousness, as if the orb were attempting to suck him into its depths. But before any such thing could occur, it began to move away from him and towards the next deity. Vowzra watched it go, a thin string of his essence, still connected to his palm, following it. His essence was the darkest black which shone with darkness even against the nothingness of pre-existence.
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