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After Day 3 Council had concluded

Usriel’s Room

The door to Usriel’s room vibrated slightly as Kaldun banged on it. “Brother! I have come to talk with you! I missed the rest of the council when I left to calm myself! I need you to tell me what happened in my absence!” The door slid open and Kaldun strode into the room with a vibrant grin. “It is good to see you again Usriel!” His arms went wide to hug his brother but he paused. “I almost forgot! You do not want to be embraced!”

“Tell me! How are you doing!? I saw that the events of the Council affected you greatly! It was a trying time for all of us, but we made it through without a drop of blood being spilled before our father! That is a victory!” He sat in front of the blackened meeting table, beaming across at Usriel. “So I ask again brother! How are you holding up after today’s Council session?! I could feel father’s anger crackling through the air even after I had left! It must have been as passionate as the debate that I participated in!”

Though, even as Kaldun came and exclaimed, the father of the nineteenth had not moved from his seat, only a slight turn of the head with the red glare of his helmet pointing back at Kaldun. There was a moment of silence before Usriel would respond, “Indeed. The Stargazers were being held accountable for their motions of disembodying Astartes with grievous injuries and putting them upon augmented chassis. After all, only in death does duty end.”

Eyeing the Golden Conqueror for another moment, Usriel leaned back in his seat, bringing his hands into a steepled position as he cocked his head ever so slightly. While his voice did not show it, it was clear there was an air of skepticism as he continued to speak, “Yet, I feel as if that is not what you had come to talk about, Kaldun. After all, you seem to be more inclined to go to that shapeshifting witch far more than wanting to deal with myself. So I ask now, why have you come?”

Kaldun shook his head with a laugh. “Come now! I love most of my family, but that does not mean I am blind to their faults! Eiohsa views the Stargazers actions emotionally and as great crimes against our sons and daughters! She would have only informed me of her view on it, which is not something I need!”

“You however, I know will only tell the truth! You are many things Usriel, but you will not lie to me or spin any of the facts in your own favor!” He gave a dismissive gesture. “As for my other question, can I not ask my brother if he is doing alright after seeing him cry?! What kind of brother would I be if I simply ignored that?!”

“My tears over my niece were the same as any other atrocity committed against my sons and their cousins. Though, I suppose I cannot argue against your kindness,” Usriel responded in his normal coldness, his gaze unwavering. A moment past as he adjusted his hands to grip his chair, speaking out as coldly as he could, “Now, since you have come to talk, let us talk. How do you feel about Daena’s promotion to warmaster?”

Ignoring the increasing coldness of his brother, Kaldun responded with a beaming smile. “As you say! Just know I am always here for you Usriel! That is what family is for!” He turned his head to the side in confusion at the next question, but shrugged. “I think she is an excellent choice! Impartial, logical, fair and very dedicated to the cause! There are some who will call her a mutant, but given the existence of the Edict and the wide variety of our own siblings that our father has shown no issue with I think that she will be fine! A far better choice than me, at least! Someone who will care about the day to day operations and how well all of us are working together! I would just point in the vague direction of the galaxy and say ‘Conquer all of that’!” He laughed, pleased with himself.

“Why do you ask, brother?!”

“Mere curiosity,” Usriel said blankly as he began to condense the loud words of his sibling into the whys as to why Daena had been made into the warmaster. He turned his head to look towards the wall bearing the Cog of the Mechanicum. Another moment of silence before the colder of the brothers next spoke, “I suppose she is a fine choice, I hold her in high enough regard to say that she will prove capable for the time being.”

“A fine compliment brother! She will prove capable indeed!” Kaldun laughed again, amused at the idea of one of their siblings, genetically designed by their father to be perfect and nigh unstoppable, being merely capable at the art of war.

“Speaking of war brother, are you joining us on the craftworld siege that Augor is preparing?! I hear that there is a great deal of tech and information on the planet that will benefit the Imperium and our efforts!”

“Of course. Albeit, I am not attending out of the prerogative of implementing the foul xeno-tech, but I am attending to behind reaping vengeance for my sons. Augor had since restrained me from bringing the entirety of the Steel Sentinels to bear, but I will be taking my finest,” Usriel responded, his coldness breaking away momentarily as he seemed to relish the idea of purging the Aeldari there from existence.

“Excellent brother! I look forward to purging the xenos that refuse to surrender with you! I have not spoken with Augor myself yet, but from what I understand our Imperial forces need more psykers to combat the psychic powers of the xenos themselves! Unless I am mistaken I’ll bring my own finest sons to battle their finest psykers in glorious combat! Which brings me to my next question!” Kaldun leaned forward onto Usriel’s desk, excitedly. The desk groaned under the added weight, almost inaudible beneath the primarch’s words.

“You have connections to the Mechanicum, yes?!” Before Usriel could respond, Kaldun continued. “Of course you do! That means you could get robots with specific designs built, yes!? My sons and I need to increase the variety our Guardians! The factories we have managed to secure for our use have been satisfactory, but are not up to the standard of flexibility of the rest of our army! Could you help us in this endeavour, brother!?”

“Perhaps…” Usriel mused for the moment,
bringing his gaze back to the Golden Conqueror, pondering the thought of reallocating some of the production to aid another’s legion. “However, retooling manufactorums and production lines takes time, Kaldun. Not to mention, you have not spoken of the STCs regarding these ‘Guardians’ of yours. Upgrading those sacred instructions will take time and will need to be approved by myself, the Holy Synod of Mars, and the Synod of Vion 5.”

“Aha! Fortunately you will not need to upgrade the sacred instructions of Baalros!” Kaldun declared, with more than a little amusement, setting a datapad down in front of Usriel. “My sons have identified STCs that will require minimal modifications! These models are perfectly designed to allow a psi-crystal into their matrix! That will allow them to be controlled even better than the Mechanicum’s own cybernetic warriors can!”

Kaldun started pacing around the room, swept up in his idea. “We can test them out on the Craftworld invasion, the Eldar are strong warriors and they will provide ample testing grounds, and if they are a success we can look into improving other robots so that my sons and other Librarians could use them to the same effect as these designs!”

“Think about it brother! Your own librarians would doubtlessly be even more skilled at controlling such designs than my own sons, and you could keep them more secure from being targeted by the various enemies of man!”

Usriel had a moment of pause as he thought about the words of Kaldun, knowing full well of how useful such weapons could be against the Aeldari threat. The Nineteenth son watched Kaldun’s pacing, before his mind was nearly instantly concluded. He said in a more of an enthused tone, clear that he was smiling faintly behind his helm, “You need not to say another word to convince me, Kaldun. I shall have some lines of production altered so you may have these weapons. Of course, all modifications will need to be approved, but our standing as sons of the Omnissiah will sway the Synod of Mars.”

“Excellent! Soon enough we will be able to crush our enemies with the might of the Astartes and the cunning of the Mechanicum!” Kaldun beamed back at his brother. “We will see the perfect testing grounds upon the craftworld as we bring the vile Eldar to heel! It will be a glorious sight as we crush them beneath the might of the Imperium!”

“How soon do you want me to visit and pick up the designs!?”

“I will send you a message as soon as we have the first working one made so that you may see and judge for yourself,” Usriel responded, bringing up a data-slate and typing into it for but a brief moment, “As soon as I return to Vion 5, I will have Fabricator-Technis Arx work upon this. Should I not be there, it is he who you will speak to.”

“Excellent! I knew I could rely on you brother! Between our two forces we will crush the Xenos that oppose us!” Kaldun grinned again, practically shaking with excitement.

“Which reminds me brother! What happened during the rest of the Council after Sarghaul’s crimes were revealed? I know there is something about Augor happening, but I had to leave lest my rage overtook me and made me do something regrettable!”

Usriel paused for a moment only another Primarch could register, thinking to himself before speaking, “It was about the Stargazers as a whole, it seemed they took the critically injured Astartes that were no longer able to healed and took their brains to be put onto metal chassis, so that their duty does not yet end. They did so to other legions as well, such matters did not seem of much import for me to note otherwise, though the Witch was against Augor’s view.”

“Ah! The Stargazers’ practice of keeping Astartes fighting! A sensible action that some of our siblings seem to have taken issue with! It is no different than dreadnoughts no? Regardless! Which ‘witch’ spoke out against Augor? That moniker could describe any of our sisters who are psychically inclined!” He laughed again, grinning at a memory. “I have been called such a title by rebel humans who had never seen psychic abilities before! So really, any sufficiently psychically powerful sibling of ours could get such a moniker! So! Which of our siblings is against Augor?”

“Eiohsa and Nimue,” Usriel answered simply, before proceeding to elaborate, “Though I will admit my comment of ‘witch’ was based upon Eiohsa alone.”

“Nimue and Eiohsa agreeing on something? That is the amazing part of this! Though I suppose Augor’s methods go both against the morals of Eiohsa and the aesthetics of Nimue! It is a strange thing to be caught upon, preserving the life of one of our children when each of them is a precious resource to be conserved at all cost! I imagine the three of them argued for some time, so we can skip over that! What was our father’s ultimate decree upon the matter after hearing the arguments for and against?”

“The Emperor decreed that the Stargazer’s procedure shall be mandated and taught to the other legions,” Usriel stated, before bringing his arm up to a display that appeared on the table. The blue hum echoed across the darkened chamber, though the contents were clear enough, a frame of Eiohsa and Augor clad in their respective armors. The two were facing each other down, weapons drawn with the intent to kill each other. “Though, the warmaster decreed that Augor and Eiohsa settle their differences through a duel. That is something I figured that you’d enjoy much more than talk of proceeding and rulings,” Usriel revealed, leaning back in his chair and cocking his head towards Kaldun.

Kaldun immediately stood up with such force that his chair flew backwards and crashed against the door behind him. “There was a duel?! And nobody told me?! When?! Where?! Who won!? How did it happen!? Don’t answer that! I can just watch it!” He paused, and then looked at Usriel. “Could you start it instead of showing me a screen?! Quickly, please! I want to see how Eiohsa’s distractions affected her fighting! And how Augor did against a psyker of such potent power, without the might of his full army behind him! Our brother is formidable, but a duelist he is not!”

Usriel allowed a silence to pass before he brought up the recording, allowing the duel to play out just as how it had been recorded for the public to see. The standoff, the fight, the carnage, and Augor being declared the winner by the warmaster were those parts that were only useful for Usriel to even be given so much as a light grumble about. The Nineteenth was happy to see Augor having won the duel, more so to see that Eiohsa had gotten her dues for being the shapeshifting witch that he saw her as. However, Usriel could truly only care for Eiohsa, not her well being, but rather the fact that he viewed her injuries as not enough to satisfy his own roiling anger against her.

Kaldun commented, mostly to himself, as he watched the duel.

“I think each of them brought enough firepower to destroy a planet! Shame they aren’t like us, and use only simple weapons and powers eh brother?”

“Yes! Yes! You’re a stronger Psychic, use that to your advantage!”

“A ranged fight? Hopefully not the entire battle!”

“I spoke too soon! Go, go get him!”

“Aha! That is a big gun! Nothing like a spear of course, but explosions are always exciting!

“Hit him directly! Stab him with the spear!”

“Golden shields! Works every time!”

“How many guns does he have, anyway?”

“Throw his weird metal tentacles away, haha!”

“Rip him to shreds! To shreds!”

“Hmm, she’s distracted! He’ll take advanta-Yeah, there he goes!”

“Scrambler grenades? A bold strategy!”

“Oh, boo! How can we watch if they’re in the middle of magma?”

“Why are you helping him? He’s clearly not done! This will just-there it is!”

Kaldun looked over at Usriel, a grin across his face. “An excellent duel, brother! I feel that having it so soon after Eiohsa’s battle and claims against Sarghaul was a mistake, as she was clearly distracted! But, it is what it is! Hopefully this will put Augor’s petty oath to rest! He’s always been unnecessarily sensitive! Was that the last thing I missed? Or was there another exciting development from the argument?”

“No,” Usriel said simply, commenting in a grim tone, “Though in my opinion, Augor should have finished the duel properly.”

“He was already being pulled from a molten death by Eiohsa! Even with her distraction he only won due to her lack of thought!” He looked his head at Usriel, smile fading. “Unless you mean killing her! That would be a foolish decision! In addition to killing family in cold blood being the gravest sin you could commit, his life and his legion’s life would be forfeit! A duel is not a battle to the death, and killing your opponent is murder! And, as I’m sure you’re aware brother, murdering one of our father’s children is treason! The punishment for treason is death!” His voice was sharp and disapproving.

“That witch is nothing more than a security risk, even less a sibling. Her worlds are already proof enough that she cannot be trusted, but her ability to change bodies at will is something I cannot abide. No secret is safe so long as she exists,” Usriel hissed at Kaldun, standing from his seat with such intensity as to almost knock it back, his hands laying upon the smooth surface of the table. The Nineteenth Primarch, spoke in a voice wrought with anger and paranoia, “She is a treacherous wretch, Kaldun. She is unfit for leadership if she is to allow her daughters to be taken by some rogue Astartes! I will never call her sister, nor you or any of the others brother or sister! My family has been long dead and none of you are ever going to replace them!”

“Do not think you are the only one who has lost his first family!” Kaldun snarled back, leaning in to face Usriel, his fingers digging into the desk. “We have all lost those who raised us, some of us were not even lucky enough to have them! Do not think you are not the only who has known the shock and grief of finding out they are gone, and you are certainly not the only one to mourn such a loss! We’re all you have left! We’re the only ones in the entire galaxy who can even begin to understand what you’re going through Brother! We’re your family!”

Kaldun shoved off of the desk and began pacing back and forth through the room, waving his hands as he ranted.

As the door opened, Kaldun threw up a hand and blocked it off with a barrier of golden energy, preventing the Sentinels from interfering. He continued, growing louder and angrier with each word and every step.

“Your paranoia is getting the best of you! You see a dagger in every shadow, a lie upon everyone’s lips! Eiohsa does not do the things she did during the Rangdan if she was a traitor! Billions of potentially useful humans and thousands of her daughters, annihilated! We’re Primarchs! We’re all security risks! Sarghaul flouts our father’s commands and experiments upon humans, which even you can’t pretend is the work of rogue sons of his! He created the Infestus, and he taught his sons how to make more! Why do you think the Imperial Army fears working with them?! Death is preferable to what they do to you if you are wounded! I possess a temper so strong that I could destroy entire armies if provoked enough! Nimue is so arrogant and ambitious that she openly sides with Sarghaul out of sheer spite of Eiohsa, accusing her baselessly and plotting her death! To say nothing of her ability to influence others!”

“Augor is so blinded by religion, something banned by our father I might add, and so fragile that he is willing to swear a treasonous oath of murder and vengeance upon loyal citizens and astartes of the Imperium! Who knows what spying technology he has placed to ensure that his cult is protected and he is never caught unaware! Wode cares so much for his men that he might choose them over the Imperium! Nelchitl is as easily filled with rage as I am! Sekhmetara only speaks in honeyed words that hide her true intentions! Daena is capable of pronouncing dooms that force people to obey her word! Kaelianos has his own personal empire and endless drive! Micholi is a master of subterfuge and diplomacy with the Xenos! He doesn’t see them as slaves, he sees them as equals!”

“You are a master of fortification, loyal to the Omnissiah, and filled with paranoia! We are all security threats! By the very nature of being Primarchs, we are a threat! The only thing keeping us in check is loyalty to our father, and our combined vision of a united galaxy! And your complaint against Eiohsa is that she possesses abilities that several of us also possess? She can shapeshift! So what?! Nimue can manipulate the minds of all of those around her! I can destroy almost anything in front of me! That all means nothing! You speak of rogue astartes? What about yours? Your rogue sons started a war that was only averted by the Inheritors coming and making things worse!”

“Trea-!” Kaldun began to continue to rant but was cut off by Usriel’s fist coming into contact with the Golden Conqueror, snapping his head back. A staggering blow that had come from a Primarch that normally allowed words of others to go through him.

“None of my sons are rogues, you wretch!” bellowed Usriel in an anger that bordered hatred, the nineteenth Primarch now showing the full extent of his care of his sons. He brought back another fist, moving to continue his assault, exclaiming, “You know nothing of MY sons!”

Kaldun grinned at Usriel, blood trickling down his jaw, as he stepped back and deflected the follow up punch. He blocked the next one, mocking Usriel. “Ah! You punch harder than the witch! Maybe add that to your paranoia! ‘Eiohsa is fortunately not physically stronger than me!’”

He with his own flurry of punches speaking as he stepped forward. “Forgive me, brother but sons who ignore orders and do what they will sounds an awful lot like rogue astartes! Do not worry though! You have no rogue sons because the Daughters of Iron killed them as soon as they acted against orders! Convenient, no?!”

“They did not ignore orders! The Daughters’ idealism got in the way of protocol, you oaf!” Usriel bellowed, stepping away from Kaldun’s flurry, seeing the strikes coming before Kaldun had finished with the last. One impacted into the armor of his shoulder before Usriel rammed his side into Kaldun to push him towards the wall. He cried out, “They killed MY sons for following protocol! My sons! They are nothing but idealist wretches waiting for their mother to lead them to slaughter again!”

“We all saw the report! Your sons were ordered to stand down, and then they fired upon the Daughters!” Kaldun stepped to the side, avoiding most of Usriel’s shoulder charge. Usriel was not the only one with prescience. “When the Daughters retaliated in self defense, your sons were killed!” Kaldun grabbed the desk and threw it at Usriel, immediately following behind it with a charge.

Without a word, Usriel let loose a cry of anger, sending a blow through the desk and carrying it through to Kaldun in his charge. Kaldun deflected it with his arm and crashed into Usriel. The force of Kaldun’s charge took the two of them through the wall, breaking through with a thunderous sound. The two Primarchs fell to the ground, still struggling.

It was then that the Astartes of the Nineteenth managed to breach into the room, having to resort to using plasma cutters to drill through the wall. The sons of Usriel came in, following the devastation and raising plasma rifles at Kaldun before a loud voice, shrouded in authority and anger at the fighting Primarchs came over the two, “Father, Uncle! Stop this madness!”

Kaldun paused and looked up, fist raised to strike at Usriel, a quizzical look on his face. “What? We are simply settling differences of opinion! There is no madness here!”

The sons of Usriel looked unswayed and Kaldun gave a small shrug as he pulled himself to his feet. "Very well! I will meet you on the Craftworld brother! Together our legions will crush the Eldar!" With that and a cheery wave, met with smoldering silence from Usriel, Kaldun headed back towards his own quarters. The plasma rifles followed his every step until he was out of sight.
Chailiss Week





These are the dark days of winter
dismal dull dawn becomes dreary dusk
then darkness
and yet another sunless daybreak.

A few sullen lonely snowflakes
waft on frigid breeze
reluctantly falling to sodden soil.

This existence leaves an aching
in one’s spirit
a taste in one’s soul
like cold ashes of the dead.

These are the dim days of the season
the gloomy season of the year
a shadowy year of life.

So all be ware of winter’s might
lest you feel its frigid bite
and know the daggers of ice -
come for all who heed not his advice.

He stalks the season, stalks our dens
stalking our kits and stalking our kin -
casting a spell of cold upon all us.

Yet even he, so frigid and cold
would save us from beasts of green
and avenge kits yet lost
by the green murder’s hunt.

For even the wolves and bears must retire
as the frost come hither and desire
her pelt, her fangs, her time of hunt.

Her waters chill to ice
And her breath now shown in air -
we see her the green murder there
so that we may flee from her own snare.

It was then we knew and felt his grace
to save us - our salvation
and let his breath sweep all the land.

Now know his touch, his cold embrace
know his love and snowy dance
as frost and ice come out and play -
The Northern Lord is here to stay.


Cycle 4







Yudaiel defied sleep, even as it clawed at her and tried to carry her away. In the wake of her battle with Iqelis and things unknowable, things far worse, she was weary, but she willed herself not to rest, not to succumb.

Weakness, Pain, and Exhaustion returned like old friends, just like they had after she’d struck down Ashevelen and battled with Epsilon. And some ‘friends’ they were! They were the fingers of sleep’s choking, grasping hand. They invariably crooned and whispered every conceivable justification to surrender her will and give in. But she was stronger now than she had been back then when last she’d dreamt, or so she’d like to think.

Hysteria, Psychosis, and Mania made for better company. They kept her vibrant, alive, and struggling, even if they couldn’t keep her mind in one piece.

”That foolish, tree-dwelling Horse claims dominion over the dreamlands now,” Mania hissed.


“Yet it’s hardly a part of the Tapestry; it existed before the Horse and will long after. So what if the Horse claims it? It’s all just pretension,” echoed the soft, resigned voice of Weakness.

”I want us to return to that lazy river we dreamt of long ago, to rest and be at peace,” Exhaustion admitted.


”Peace? There was no peace there. Even there we were harried by our foe the Fly, until we smote him again. There, we Saw that horrific cyclops, and He Saw us too!” Psychosis shrieked.

Pain’s sharp and insufferable cadence cut through the clamor, “And He was a horrible threat, but He can evidently See many things anyways, and His coming or going cannot be stopped if that is what He intends. There are worse things, like those that struck from the blackness, the void. We must hide from them and recover. I WILL be heard!”


Everything trembled – Yudaiel’s mind throbbed – as Hysteria battled with Pain and the two shook the rest of the chorus, until Pain finally relented. A silence so short-lived as to be nigh imperceptible followed, before it was then broken by Hysteria’s roar, “Dark forces loom everywhere! We SHALL remain vigilant and See them as they come! We SHAN’T succumb to weakness or blindness or the clutches of that Horse’s den!”

A defiant Mania tried to hiss its dissent and uncharacteristically urge for caution just out of spite and obstinance, but Hysteria and Psychosis brutally mauled it alongside the other three. They crushed, devoured, and assimilated all other shards of Yudaiel’s fractured psyche, and then joined together. Her mind was one, once more. Another voice rang through it though, a foreign and yet familiar one:

”Jingui, the Monarch’s Wit, know that your contributions to the realm have been seen and are appreciated. And though our dear Rosa has fallen, let it be known that she is the Unforgotten.”

Before she’d had time to contemplate the implications of such developments, the speaker made His entrance. In one moment she had been alone on her pale white rock, and in the next the Monarch of All had suddenly loomed before Yudaiel’s field of view. This time she hadn’t kept him waiting; she had Seen the coming of His arrival. Still, the goddess said nothing in greeting and only met the gaze of His eyes with her one. The silence between the two, however, would not last as His words wormed their way in the depths of Yudaiel’s psyche, making His voice heard.

”No ideabstractions? I must say, your silence astounds me for once.”

Echoes of her quarrels, that with Iqelis and the horrors and that with her own mind, faintly resonated through the bridge between their minds. Annoyance and anger was there, too; it was masked and yet it simmered beneath the surface as hot and violently as a volcanic vent lurking in depths of the seas.

”Please, I know your brawl with that upstart has you on edge but I have not come to talk about that, despite the spectacle that it was. Rather, I have come about the beast you two encountered.”

The Monarch of All’s words were filled not with the normal malice that He bore towards Yudaiel but rather of curiosity, a genuine curiosity towards her ordeal. Yet, she knew that He did not truly mean well, or have that genuine feeling, it was written all over how He acted. She could even See it woven into the Tapestry and within the Flow. His dance was an ominous one.

So the reticent goddess was loath to surrender the entirety of the truth and what she’d witnessed, and yet she was also certainly afraid to defy Him outright – especially not now, not while she was still weakened so. Fortuitously, it was easy to deceive when the contents of a memory were already so fractured and nonsensical – all thoughts of that light in the dark, that glorious Lord of Rippling Shadow that Towered over All, the one whose voice had lent her strength and clarity from within the horror’s gullet… all thoughts of Him, she buried deeply.

But everything else, in all of its madness, she relayed with perfect lucidity.

The Ancient One had listened intently with an unmoving form, His light solely focused upon her as she showed Him. When she had finished, the Monarch of All idly turned His gaze to the great void, past the light of the palace and into the great cosmos unknown to the gods. There was a moment as He seemed to recall something, though there were no words that He would speak. Yet, the silence could not last, even Yudaiel knew such.

”Such creatures, so wild and unyielding. They refuse to be tamed no matter how much power one has. I must commend you and Iqelis for being able to challenge one.”

Yes, it had been just one, kaleidoscopically split into too many shards to count, some paradoxically greater even than the whole. It had been like a puddle made of a million droplets, each grander than a lake.

Hmph. Praise was often an easy enough way to make Yudaiel glow, but not now.

The Galbar, the moon, and even the resplendent Jade Palace were all revealed as just mountain peaks on one tiny isle. The endless black ocean of the void was all around, and with piercing gaze, the vision revealed the endless schools of fish. The cosmos and realities beyond teemed with something analogous to life, though much of it was monstrous and abominable and anathema to even reason in every way – for every one of the infinite stars out there, there was a Horror, and all knew it.

Where rivers of light and warmth left the island to meet with the shore and their deltas sated it with warm and life-bearing silt, the fish were drawn nearer. Closest to the ocean was the summit of the moon, and atop it a single eye, albeit one endowed with Sight beyond sight, was set alone to spear the lurking monsters and stave away the madness.


The Great Lord of Reality nodded to Yudaiel, affirming her vision before His light would turn back to meet her gaze. Within a single step - He traversed the entire surface of the moon, seeming to inspect it all the while and admiring certain aspects of it. There was a pause as He came back to Yudaiel, His gaze unwavering from her until His arms folded over His great and infinitely deep wound. His voice penetrated her mind once more.

”Yes, I am aware that they would be drawn here and there are likely more yet to come. Precisely when or where, however, is lost upon me as I can no longer See into the Tapestry. That is why I have come to you, Yudaiel.”

So the mountain whose summit was crowned with an eye twisted around, its stony spine cracking as it turned its back to the shore (even if only briefly!) and faced inland towards the mountain of the sun. Staring expectantly into the dawn’s light would have blinded many, but not this Eye. The deleterious rays of incinerating, blinding heat would have smitten many things and cast them into the black river of the Flow, but not this eyed moon-mountain. It was scarred, and yet unyielding.

And so further moon-mountains yet all of the same Eye rose upon the periphery of the shores, all gazing outwards into the oceans and upon the abhorrent beings. Great ships sailed out to meet each of the beasts, beings bearing the banners of the sun skewering each yet cheering the moon-mountain’s name. The great island was now joined by many against the teeming fish and now able to call upon great armies of the sun, such power gifted to the Eye allowed it to stand triumphant over the void.

Such works could be constructed, such aims achieved. Yudaiel envisioned another two jewel-bastions patrolling the Galbar’s night sky, one black as onyx and one an immaculate but hazy grey opal. The trinity was perfect: one Eye blessed with three pupils so as to see past, present, and future.

Figments and wisps of such fancies manifested in the ideabstraction. A storm of thought suddenly focused upon the Monarch Himself though, but it was not interested in Him as a person so much as His potential – specifically that of an instrument for attaining her desires. The storm’s charged aura coursed not over His visage but into the bottomless depths of His wound, towards one specific crystalline shard.

The Monarch of All seemed to recoil at the sight of the shard, not out of fear or shock, but of pain and anger of yet another god looking to steal more of His power. His hands clenched, claws digging deep into the Artist’s palms and drawing from it His very ichor that slowly pulled itself downwards and threatened to fall upon Yudaiel’s immaculate sculpture. The anger radiated and it consumed the moon in its entirety as He stared down the great eye, wordlessly.

The island was no longer in the void, a time before such creation. But then it rose, first as a low-lying atoll, and then as that proper isle with its two peaks of the sun and the Galbar. The Eye was still able to make its own summit along the shore, raising the moon-mount from the tide. Why could it not do so again? Why did the great eye-mountain need the shard in order to make further more? The Mountain of the Sun stood defiant against pleading and power hungry masses that came to ask for further pieces that made it whole.

The churning seas circled the lonely island hungrily (or perhaps they were still as the island danced and spun and twirled; it made no matter) and the fish followed the currents. Warmth and silt and shallows by the beach nurtured reefs, and those reefs lured in those alien fish of the deep sea from the outer currents. Abominable, thrashing, fleshy things that were part shark, part whale, part godfish defiled the reefs and creation, and those fish-Horrors multiplied and clambered onto the shores with strangely misshapen and asymmetric legs.

Here and there, one strayed close to the Eye’s mountain, and she defended its slopes and fjords vigorously from atop her summit. There remained a great deal of shoreline that she did not defend, and would not defend, for it wasn’t hers; after all, what was hers was here, and there, and everywhere: the ephemeral, the Key to Seeing the Past, the Future, and Far and Near. Nothing so tangible as the sandy shores, or the craggy cliffs… not even her own mountain was truly, fully hers so long as the Sun greedily possessed its Key.

Moreover, a rainbow wall consigned her to guard her own mountaintop; she couldn’t descend down to the island’s jungles below even if she’d wanted. The Sun Mountain had decreed it, and so the rainbows forged from His prismatic light had bent themselves into a great barrier around her peak.


Still, rainbows were tenuous barriers, and they had proven no hindrance to the Eye as she had conjured great gales to sweep up and abduct a mortal – the one that was called Biluda – from what should have been its sanctuary below. It likewise did little to stop the moon-mountain as it gushed out great wellsprings that flowed downward as rivers that carved and gouged and reshaped the island all around as the Eye willed. In body the eye might not have wandered, but in spirit, it had most certainly violated its oath, and the Sun’s blinding radiance illuminated each of these transgressions in turn as they were shown. Still, He was a warm and just sun, and so had done nothing but simmer even as his patience was tested. So then, great torrents of the fish swarmed first the Moon Mountain, before the Sun sent His armies to stop the greedy beasts. Perhaps she would learn her lesson if she were left alone to the mercy of the circling wolves of the void that were so eager to prey upon all those who were not protected by His command.

The entire island tore itself from its foundation to flip upside down and soar into the emptiness of a plane above this ocean. As it ascended above and crumbled into nothingness, it cast a reflection in the waters below: that of another island that could have been. The one Horror which had contained and become so many other Horrors appeared again, but this time when it attacked, the Eye merely fled. Unassisted, the Fly fell before the monstrous extradimensional invader, and then with glamors and tricks and folds of the Tapestry, Yudaiel masked her own presence and diverted the thing to the peak of the Galbar where it wreaked havoc.

A ripple pulsed through the ocean, tiny by the grand cosmic standards of this surreal perspective, but massive enough to erase that small reflection of a universe. When the wave had passed, a more familiar reflection returned: that of their present Reality, and one for which the Eye’s lord ought to have been grateful.


The great claws of the Monarch of All dug into the eye of Yudaiel, dragging her form so that all she could see was His blinding radiance. Anger was all that she could see, and that anger enveloped her surrounding everything and invading all her senses. He had been angered by her constant visions of trying to merely leave His kingdom and abandon her duties, yet this rage was subdued.

His mind was harder to entomb within a prison of illusions than the likes of the Fly’s, or any of her vapid ‘peers’, so when her progenitor broke free with such ease and struck at her in Reality she recoiled with a hiss. To her credit the amorphous pupil dissipated and then reappeared somewhere else within the storm of consciousness, mostly unscathed from the rending swipe… mostly. With her Sight blurred by that strike, she still looked clearly into His wound and Saw what she wanted, and so much more, just waiting in there. He was inside her sea of consciousness, within her grasp. It was so, so tempting to reach into His chest and seize what she wanted, to eviscerate Him herself…

”Not yet.”


The whisper was faint, so faint that she was certain none beside her would have perceived it, and she almost took it for the Monarch’s own voice. The familiar tone was almost like the Monarch’s own cadence, but not quite… it was colder, more distant, less passionate.

She heard it and obeyed, arresting her racing thoughts before the Monarch sensed something amiss.

”You would not survive out in that void! You know not what lives beyond the periphery of my domain - beasts and monsters would be the least of your concern if you found ‘him’!”

Psychosis stirred from its slumber and reared its head once again, just long enough to relay an ideabstracted memory of that dream by the river… that part where the cyclops in the sky had peered at her.

The Monarch was a mountain before the trees of his making, which clung to His side and in His shadow. But proud as He was, upon the horizon were many, many more peaks… some that threatened to perhaps tower even taller than He.

The venerable Monarch of All was wordless, not because He lacked coherent thoughts or words to answer the question, but because He did not want to answer it. Lowering His arms, the Monarch of All looked back towards the star-filled void and watched it for the briefest of moments as His claws dug into His palms once more. There was a new feeling that emanated from Him, one that was unknown to any of the gods - fear gnawed at His mind as he glimpsed into the void. A single utterance graced Yudaiel as she watched the unmoving form of her liege.

”Amphiboles.”

So He had offered up a name to that alien giant with the nigh-omniscient eye, yet names meant little. Yudaiel knew and Saw many things: things that she should not have been able to See, knowledge that should not have been possible to attain, secrets that should have been forgotten. She knew that somewhere out there was that cyclops – Amphiboles – and that such a being might well be the Architect of His Undoing, if it smelt weakness and division.

Yudaiel, with no even a hint of subtlety, projected thought at the Monarch of All and imparted into his mind the suggestion that she keep careful vigil over the Tapestry’s threads so as to track the movements and machinations of that ‘Amphiboles’... perhaps the Tapestry’s weave could likewise be obfuscated in strange and arcane ways, so as to hinder that probing eye of the cyclops.

The Monarch of All continued His gaze outwards, looking beyond the great void that contained His opulent realm. With a sigh, He turned back to Yudaiel and gave thought to the proposal that He Saw. In the end, He nodded to her in silence, giving her the duty to watch over the tapestry so that the great Architect would not meddle within His affairs. The safety of His realm would not be guaranteed with her aid, but it would be a step in ensuring a warning.

And yet the apparition of an open hand, its palm still empty, invaded his mind.

Silently, yet angrily, a hand went to the deep wound upon His chest and went to the great many shards that made up His being. The Monarch of All felt His fingers pluck away one of the crystalline structures from its place within His core. He let out a sharp, pained breath and staggered - almost losing balance as yet another piece of His soul left His body. There was a moment as He stood there in pain, staring at the crystal that contained countless different orbs - an untold number of moons that could possibly be crafted and controlled. The Hallowed Lord regained His composure after a brief time and extended the hand holding the shard out towards Yudaiel.

”Do not make me regret this.”




Yoliyachicoztl Week


The great fields were alight that night.

Fields are smoke,
Smoke is air.

Gazing ever on to the dancing light,
The only light that could give us fright.

It took the moisture from our throats,
It came and made us dry.

It was Fire.

Fire! Fire! Ferocious Fire!
You restless wall of flame.
Fire! Fire! Roaring higher!
Your fury to never tame.

You show no mercy – no regard:
A writhing army uncontrolled.
At least you don’t discriminate,
Coming to exterminate:
All dealt with equal pain untold.

Fire! Fire! Ferocious Fire!
You restless wall of flame.
Fire! Fire! Roaring higher!
Your fury to never tame.

In time of drought you run amok –
An open chimney of the land.
Prefer to scorch than suffocate:
In blinding zeal, incinerate
To blackened vista now unmanned.

Fire! Fire! Ferocious Fire!
You restless wall of flame.
Fire! Fire! Roaring higher!
Your fury to never tame.

Destruction be your only goal
For you to vent your jealous wrath
On gentle life with caring soul
And human victims to console:
As you are none, but psychopath.

Fire! Fire! Ferocious Fire!
You restless wall of flame.
Fire! Fire! Roaring higher!
Your fury to never tame.

So there it is – you are but flame:
Reacting gases to adorn –
With orange flicks of flailing arms,
You’re flaunting your demonic charms!
Now leave us for bereaved to mourn.

Fire! Fire! Ferocious Fire!
You restless wall of flame.
Fire! Fire! Roaring higher!
Your fury to never tame.

So many lives to claim.
Too many for you to swallow.
And yet that roaring flame -
It would soon make us hallow.



The Monarch of All

&

Aethel





Stretching out with a mighty yawn as Aethel left the ocean of dreams behind in order to return to the waking world, the deity reached up to softly rub sleep out of their eyes before they took a moment in order to focus on what they wanted to do now that they had their energy back.

Leaning back and propping themselves up with their hands, Aethel absentmindedly reached out and plucked one of the tops off of the mushrooms in the circle, bringing it to their mouth and taking a comically large bite out of it as they relaxed and looked up at the night sky. The cool, refreshing air felt wonderful against their skin and a brief transformation so the humanoid form they tended to favor when dealing with mortals of all shapes and creeds in favor of their natural divine one as the four legged equine made themselves comfortable and closed their eyes in order to fully enjoy the sensation of the wind against them.

As their senses infused with that of the wind, Aethel’s consciousness followed the breeze as it slowly stalked its way out of the treeline, rising into the air and pressing against a cloud, pushing it along its course. Soon one cloud became many clouds, combining together into a big cloud that was heavy enough to release the water that made up its very being onto the ground below.

As time passed, Aethel found themselves mapping the wind currents across the entire surface of the planet. For a split second, the entire weather system of the planet was something that was completely known to them: Where the water rose up from bodies of water, where the wind was going to take those clouds and where rain and storms were going to form and fall. For one single second, the weather of the world was completely understandable and in order. And then, with a single flap of the wings of a butterfly… that illusion of order and understanding disappeared in an instant.

Aethel’s eyes snapped open as the rays of the noon sun warmed their coat. An idea had come to them… and a grin appeared on their face… only for it to pause.

They had dreamed of other plans that they wished to invest their strength into. While the Ocean of Dreams proved to be a resounding success, the root of the problem was that in order to have more power to make their plans reality, they needed another title… and there was only one being who could grant them one.

Turning their gaze up towards the Divine Palace, Aethel took a deep breath and called out loudly enough for the Monarch of All to hear, “Monarch of All! This servant wishes for an audience!”

Surprisingly, despite how loud the shout had to be in order to be properly heard, the forest around Aethel’s clearing didn’t seem to be disturbed by it in the least. However, the loud sound of a portal, the bridge, opening for Aethel did very much disturb the forest as a blinding light erupted to signify the event, singing scurrying animals and the like in all which direction. Within that portal, there stood a brightly burning Tlanextic with the Monarch of All at his side, the Lord of Reality giving a nod of approval to the once mortal. The Monarch of All’s words could be heard by Aethel, a pleased and prideful voice coming over Him.

”Excellent work, Tlanextic. For this I shall name you ‘Protector of the Vestibule of the Lord’ and the ‘Head of the Palace Guardians’. Now leave us, I shall speak with Aethel.”

Tlanextic gave a nod before walking out of the throne room and leaving the Monarch of All to sit upon His throne with the open portal.

Aethel waited until the Monarch’s… Guest? Servant?... had left the throne room before they stepped through the portal and, having now properly transitioned to the Celestial Palace, offered the Monarch a respectful bow as was tradition when entering the domain of another. “Your majesty, thank you for finding time in your busy schedule to see me so quickly.” They offered earnestly.

”I trust you have been doing well, Aethel. Now tell me, why have you requested an audience?”

Aethel nodded their head. “I have been busy trying to make this world an interesting place. I do hope you’re enjoying some of the stories I’ve helped to create. But as to why I am here…” the smaller divine equine took a quick breath before saying, “I require some additional power. I have so many plans to make this world a more exciting, colorful and entertaining place but I can only do so much at once… and one of the projects I wish to introduce is to help fill the void that has been left by our dearly departed Luck.”

While Aethel had never met the Goddess of Luck, it was kind of clear from the way that they held themselves that the loss of the deity had deeply hurt them. “The world cannot be left to the whims of those who demand that everything occurs as they expect it too. Without luck to alter the outcome, everything falls under the predictions of fate… and I refuse to let such a thing happen uncontested. Since Luck can no longer serve as a foil, Chaos must do so instead.”

The Monarch of All looked over Aethel, contemplating their words and desire for yet more of His power, just as the other gods seemed to have come begging for. If He could have frowned He would, but despite his faceless expression, His mood was cast all around the throne room. A deep impatience brewed in the air, the lights in the room flickering brighter and lower as He scraped his claws along the throne. Yet, His anger did not boil over and He dusted off the pieces of Jade before He spoke in a clear and concise voice.

”While the death of Asheleven is a tragedy, Luck itself has not been erased, much to Yudaiel’s disappointment. Tell me of what you had planned and I might entertain the notion of giving you more power.”

Taking a deep breath, Aethel decided to make their sales pitch. “The idea is simple in design, but in practice would quickly grow into something greater. Across the planet below there would be seeded…special creatures. By their nature they would take the forms of an appropriate species to the region, but I admit to a fondness for butterflies and other winged creatures in this regard. Unlike a standard creature through, they secretly co-exist in the realms of probability: Every time they flap their wings or perform a certain, normal action to their species if they’re not winged, they will send a ripple of disruption through the realms of probability, causing distortions and interference that can cause alterations to luck and chance to give them a true factor of randomness… as well as cause attempts to peer into the future to vary wildly and be unreliable.”

“Now clearly, a single wing flap would start off small and hardly be noticeable at first, but over time the ripple it caused would grow and cause bigger distortions. A headache to be sure, but something that a dedicated being like Yudaiel could likely overcome and possibly hunt down the source of to remove in time… but seeding the world with tens of thousands of these things would ensure that in any given second, an unknown number of new ripples will be sent out. Much like the ripples in actual water, some of these ripples would naturally combine and strengthen into larger ripples or outright cancel each other out… but that would merely add to the chaos and turbulence of those trying to map out the course of the future.”

“It is a small thing, but it will always assure that no matter how certain an outcome or future appears to be, there is always the possibility of something completely random happening to change the course of history.” A grin appeared on Aethel’s face as they decided to add for the Monarch’s benefit “As an all powerful being… doesn’t the possibility of watching as events happen in a manner that even you couldn’t predict sound… Exciting? Entertaining?”

What went unsaid was the fact that by doing this, it would also effectively screw with Yudaiel to a great degree, effectively punishing her further for her actions against Asheleven without the Monarch having to declare an additional punishment to her beyond her home arrest on the moon. A chance for the Monarch to put any doubts of being too lenient to rest without having to lose face or go back on his word.

”You see, Aethel. As I had said before, luck itself is a concept that can not be merely erased from reality. Asheleven merely could control it and bend it to her will. Furthermore, Yudaiel has likely foreseen this very conversation and has planned against such action.”

The Monarch of All looked past Aethel and towards the moon of Yudaiel, looking at what she had done so far with her power as a divine being. He had already barred her from adding her strokes to the Galbar and He knew that she would see this as an open act of hostility should He bless Aethel with the power to do so. The Ruler would not yet risk open rebellion within His kingdom, not when there was already much discourse between Himself and some of the other gods. He spoke once more, decisively dashing the idea of Aethel’s plans.

”While I cannot stop you from doing so, I will not aid you in this creation. I will not risk rebellion from Yudaiel, such a thing would bring forth other gods to her side.”

For their part, Aethel looked disappointed but… understanding. “I see. I admit I’m disappointed but I can respect your logic on the matter. I might put this project into motion in the future but for now I do have other things I kind of want to focus on first. If nothing else, I think you’ll find it all interesting to observe.” It was clear that Aethel wasn’t going to bring up the details of this new plan here and now.

“Before I head back, have you had a chance to experience the Ocean of Dreams I created? It was a spur of the moment creation I admit, but I feel like it came together rather well all the same. Having tested it out myself, I can safely say that it has greatly enhanced the experience of sleep.” They boasted somewhat proudly.

”I do not sleep, as such I have not experienced it. I have no need to experience it when I can periodically watch it, just as I watch over the Galbar. However, it was interesting seeing it created.”

Well of course you don’t have to sleep. I don’t have to sleep after all. I just do it anyway because it’s enjoyable seeing what my mind has to offer me.” Aethel answered earnestly. “At any rate, you should properly think about putting someone in charge of looking after it. I designed it to be pretty good at looking after itself, but I suspect it’s only a matter of time before one of my siblings decide to play around with it for their own goals and amusement.

”I shall keep it in mind, Aethel.”

The Monarch of All words were dismissive at best as He leaned back within the Jade Throne to look past the God of Magic and upon the Galbar once more. It was not a long gaze, however, before He looked back to Aethel, two of His four hands coming together to touch the tips of their long claws together. It was clear that He was within thought, a momentary ponderance as He looked over Aethel and all that they had accomplished.

”I have a project I am working on, one that requires a certain touch. You will have your title, but first I will require something of you. As you have noticed, I am establishing a guard in the palace but they will need great power to contend with rebellious Lords and Ladies and I am no expert in your field of control.. In order to get your title, I will need your strongest divine mana.”

For a moment, Aethel paused in confusion at the request. “What do you mean ‘divine’ mana? There is no such thing.” There was a brief pause before an explanation was offered “While I am sure there will be mortals who believe mana to be divine and that a deity like myself or any of my kin using it would make it seem as such, it should never be infused with divinity in and of itself. If you’ll give me a moment…

Turning from the Monarch of All and turning their gaze towards the Galbar, Aethel’s numerous tendrils waived for a moment as they caused a… small shift in perspective. The world was still there, but suddenly the winds of mana in all their glorious colors were visible to the Monarch of All to see. “I won’t go into the full technical details of what you’re seeing, but as chaotic as the mixtures of coloration appear as it clashes or support each other there is a… balance to it. An order of things deeper than can be seen. A large part of that comes from the fact that for each color that exists… each ideal they represent and embody… There must also be disparity. For there to be growth, there must be decay. For there to be order, there must be chaos…

And for there to be divinity, there must also be unholy.” Aethel finished with complete seriousness. “Even if I was to just create mana that represents the ideal of Divinity to exist solely within your Palace for the use of your guards, it’s counter would come into existence of its own accord no matter what either of us tried to do. So unless you would want something that actively corrupts and poisons the divine existing as an active influence and power source somewhere down on the Galbar, it’s better we leave things as they are.

Taking a moment to catch their breath, Aethel did offer a counter. “However… What I can do is make it so that your Palace Guard will be able to be granted a mastery of mana usage true to their natures that would be on par with that of my kin. It might not be the advantage you seek, but it is what I can offer.

”Such unholiness does already have its roots, but it can be staved off. I suppose, however, if you do not see it best then so be it.”

He gazed away from Aethel once more, watching the Galbar tentatively as He thought of Aethel’s offer for a brief moment. His hands separated and rested on the lower ledges of His throne as His answer came to Aethel, His voice commanding and cold as He spoke as a king would to a begging lord.

”Very well then, give the Palace Guardians mastery of your ‘Mana’, let them use it as tools to better enforce my will.”

Easy enough to do, my liege.” Taking a deep breath, Aethel focused for a moment, calling upon some of their own being as they announced in a rather official manner as their horns started to glow brightly “May those mortals deemed worthy by the Monarch of All to be apart of his personal guard attain an understanding and mastery to rival those of any deity that actually took the time to learn how to channel and use mana.” Blessing given, the glow faded as the equine offered the Monarch of All a simple “There you go. Even set it up so that any mortal you bring into the fold will get the benefit of understanding and mastery rather than just an individual. Saves us both the trouble of having to invite me back every time you select a new guard.

Offering the Monarch of All a respectful bow, the deity turned towards where the portal bridge would likely manifest… before they made a request. “If you might, could you drop me off somewhere in that large desert area on the… Well, let’s just call it the ‘bottom’ part of the planet from where we’re seeing it. I do have something I’ve been meaning to do there and I would be thankful skipping the walk.

Without a word the portal opened in front of Aethel at their desired destination, with the Monarch of All seemingly pleased enough to see them out personally. The Great Lord of Reality nodded His head to Aethel before giving them a promise, His words holding grip over the realm as He would give them their title.

”You will receive your title as promised. Let it be known that you, Shepherd of Dreams, shall watch over your creation and make sure that none may seek to twist it for their own purposes.”

Thank you, my liege.” Aether answered with a deep bow, since the bestowing of a title truly was an event worthy of such diligence and respect. “I will live up to the title and duty you have bestowed upon me. I wish you well until we meet again.




Yesaris Week





It was a silent night.

Not even the wind yet stirred amongst the Eidolon Plains, not even the great saltlands to the south of a lonely tribe, which consisted of not even fifty souls, stirred in that silent night. It was still dark as well, the great and indomidatable clouds over them had yet to disappear and it had not for untold suns; suns, which not even they could not track. They had been surviving but just barely - herds feeding on what long grasses could be found along the plains’ southern border, not that there was much to begin with. Despite the situation, the people of the tribe slept soundly enough knowing that they would just need to continue their trek to the east.

Yet, it was that dead of night where an Eidolon stumbled out of the salt-filled deserts, on the verge of starvation and dehydration with the prospect of death quickly following behind him. This did not go unnoticed by a sentry, a scrawny man by the name of Asur, who roused the sleeping people before running to the aid of the man from the desert. Once the sentry reached the man, the stranger collapsed and fell into the arms of Asur who looked back and with a worried voice, “Water! Grab water!”

As someone ran to fetch the life-giving substance, Asur was able to look upon the man and notice how beautiful that he truly was, even in this state of near death. He was transfixed on the man for a moment until another had come barring a small bowl of water of which the stranger eagerly drank and in its entirety before two others came to take the stranger away for some much needed rest. Yet, Asur’s eyes could not stop looking upon the beautiful man, staring upon the man until he was out of sight and then roused from a hand shaking his shoulder.

“Asur, are you okay?” asked a familiar voice.

He turned his head to meet the view of his woman, Styx, who had given him a worried look due to his blatant dissociation. His response required no words as he took her bronze-skinned hand before bringing it to his cheek and giving it a singular kiss. Asur gave her a warm smile that was all the answer that she needed, allowing a moment to pass before she would take back her hand and begin walking back to the tribe. His mind began to travel back to the aesthetic man getting lost in trance once more; ponderance had begun to take his mind as the strange person consumed his thoughts.

’How could a being be so beautiful?’

That was the question to which Asur pondered as his mind tried to wrap around the man as it was less so that the man in question was extremely attractive. Rather, the man was simply unnaturally beautiful, so much so that he did not even look to be a true Eidolon but a replication of one of his own kind. Perhaps he was being too harsh in his line of thinking, but one could never be too sure during these dark times where the unnatural loomed around every petal of grass. It just seemed so strange that an Eidolon would come from the salt desert, to which no life could go into without dying; where only the dead of his tribe would venture out to. Asur had his suspicions, but he was taken away from his thoughts when the clouds began to give way to a full moon, bathing the plains in its beautiful light.

Asur could almost smile, though a shrill scream cut through his relief before further screaming and yelling came from his people. He stood frozen as he saw dozens of abominations lung from the tall grasses, chasing down any and all in their path. The creatures had fangs longer than any creature he had seen and their visages were more terrifying than any darkness that he could have lived through. For that reason, Asur remained glued to his place, unable to move as he witnessed the creatures pounce upon person after person and drain them of their life force by piercing their fangs into their bodies like savage beasts. The worst part was that Asur knew that there was little that he could have done to save any of his kinsmen, unable to even think of what could be done in the situation.

Then he saw him. That so elegant man, stepping away from the slaughter and approaching the stunned Asur with malice and evil deep within his smile, within his eyes. No, this man did not look as if he were upon death's feet; he was death incarnate, come to kill him for his cowardice of leaving his people to their fates. Yet, the man’s visage began to shift with bones snapping out of place as he walked, gait becoming predatory and eyes becoming nothing more than blackened beads, fangs growing and maw opening, back elongating in an unsightly arch. His finger grew into claws and his skin became taught and skeletal. Truly, this was the silhouette of death itself so terrifying and evil that Asur could do nothing but stare and make noises that only came from a cowards lips.

He knew that he must fight for his survival! He knew that he must fight just as his ancestors and his kinsman would have!

Yet, Asur was not his ancestors nor was he his brave kinsman whom he could hear fighting to drive away these monsters. All he could do was swallow his own spit whilst taking a step back, only to lose his balance and fall backwards. It was then that the terrible man lunger upon the form of Asur, sinking his fangs deep within him to draw out the life force of the Eidolon. Asur let out a scream as he thrashed, kicking and punching with all the might that he could muster, trying to survive. However, each passing second brought with it further strain, yet further bleariness as he felt his life ebbing away. There was nothing that he could do to save himself.

So, he gave in. His arms fell to his sides and his legs collapsed as his breathing began to slow. Asur looked upon the beast that drank from his heart and all he could see was beauty. Beauty was terrible, it was naught but death and hunger that stalked in the night.

The man, his murderer; he was beautiful.

And so the night was silent.


Cycle 3







The great and mighty Tlanextic, legendary ruler of Chicomoztoc and demon-banisher, had been watched over in his life. Perhaps not his entire life, but once he had banished the first of the demons, he had certainly felt a looming gaze watch over him and his great city. It was as if the indomitable sun, through the stone and night, had never let its gaze fully leave the empire; even in the time of great darkness, when the blackened clouds blocked out the sky itself, it seemed as if the sun had never left him, and, once those demon clouds were cast away, the sun never shone brighter. Chicomoztoc and Tlanextic were clearly the sun’s chosen on the Galbar, for they had banished demons and erected the greatest empire that could be witnessed; for over a century had the divine emperor directed the labors of his seven tribes, and now within the grand and sprawling capital city beneath the volcano, there were a dozen palatial abodes that were each grander and more ornate than any dwarven hole, let alone the hovels that other breeds erected on the surface.

Yet, that was so long ago and now Tlanextic had grown old and venerable, the old heat of his youth having left him long ago. The slow-death, petrification, was beginning to set in. On each occasion that he spilt his blood into the flame, as was now custom, the chisels had to bite deeper through his rocky scales, and each time there was less blood, and it was colder. Even now, as the venerable king laid within his chamber, deep in the volcano, the sun never left him. Even as someone approached from around the corner, with skin glowing brighter than any of his kind had seen before, the sun never left his sight. Then, the stranger spoke in a proclaiming voice as if it was a king to a subject, the voice commanded all attention, Tlanextic’s attention.

”Tlanextic, Mighty Ruler of Chozomoztoc, Banisher of Demons, you have served me loyally for your entire life. You are the only mortal to show such strength against those great pariahs, for that I have come to personally see you, your loyalty demands as much.”

And the First Tlatotoque was not surprised, for he had looked into the molten flows and seen this scene many times before in the prescient visions. He bowed his head, more than a little blinded by this figure who had come into the dark halls garbed in the aura as the sun. ”Great Sun,” Tlanextic addressed the Monarch of All, ”thy presence honorest a waning Tletzintli beyond words. Perhaps thou hath Seen mine intention: soon my time shall be at end, and rather than turn stone, I would rejoin the flames. With the sacrifice of all the blood that I have left, mayhaps the Smoking Demon may die, or be remit for ages to come.”

”But the honor is mine, Tlanextic, for it is no small feat for your kind to match the Smoking Demon.”

The Great Sun’s words ebbed through the chamber as He looked down upon the relieved ruler, glowing eyes scanning the aged form meticulously. The Monarch of All allowed Himself to inch closer to the old one, taking His time to gaze upon Tlanextic in what amounted to a bit of awe. It was only when the Monarch of All was but a mere step away from the First Tlatotoque that He allowed the light of His form to dim so that he may gaze upon the Great Sun. Calmed words, ones of reassurance softly came from the Monarch of All’s form.

”I am sure your blood would be enough. You will be remembered as someone for having fought until you were naught but mere stone, young one.”

To all of Chicomoztoc, the First Tlatotoque was beyond venerable, his youthful body torrid to the point that it had allowed him many, many more decades than any Achtotlata could rightly expect; any other would have cooled to his present point long ago. It was strange then to be called young, but then even the stone itself must seem a petulant youth to the timeless magma below. ”I think that nothing less would be meet. Hereat mine expiry, my demesne must pass to another. I sired many fruit, and all all think such station fain. My final yoke is to anoint the next Tlatotoque; in sooth, it behoof the land to choose ‘tween two, yet I am at a loss.

“Pleading for shrift, I would ask only one favor from you, Great Sun. Would thou rede me which be the worthier: Yolyamanitzin the elder eke hath wisdom past his year and warmth, who conjureth they that built the fire-dikes, or Yaotl, he who is stronger, who hath carveth many of these tunnels, who thinketh himself like the heated flame below, who doth swink without tire, yet who doth be the younger.”


"The answer is clear to me, Tlanextic: Yaotl, for he will carry all that you have built. He would grow to dislike the - nay! Yaotl would hate Yolyamanitzin! Know that Yaotl will grow wiser over the years, but Yolyamanitzin shall not grow stronger."

The Great Sun’s answer was swift and uncompromising, for He knew that His choice was the correct one; thus was His decree. The God’s eyes had reached the blood that Tlanextic had drawn with an unmoving gaze, only shifting when a drip slowly came. It was a moment of silence, as the Great Sun continued to study the great elder, seemingly hesitant on passing a judgment, before a smile came across His lips. Yet, still, He said nothing more.

Tlanextic had briefly contemplated the answer; the Monarch of All sensed that this had not been what Tlanextic had expected to hear, or what he likely would have done, but apathy and deference to authority were more than enough to make him see reason.

”In wisdom, I rise,” the Tlatoani quoth as his eyes lifted up from the floor and slowly, his gigantic form began to shudder and move. ”Thy will be done.”

The Monarch of All stepped out of the way of Tlanextic, moving an arm to gesture towards the door and bowing His head to the venerable leader. It was He who understood to bow to another in their domain, for it was their place to rule; He would follow behind Tlanextic until his sacrificial end. The Great Sun spoke once more with a soft and gentle voice not afforded to even many of the gods, affirming to the king that all would be well.

”Know, O great Tlanextic, that your rule was just and that your heirs would eagerly seek to follow in your footsteps. You will be missed by many, hallowed by many more. This will be a sad day for your empire, though they will be happy knowing that you shall sit by the Great Sun’s side.”

That last statement had finally roused the Tlatoani’s attention; perhaps the sun’s light had been too bright for him to have Seen such a fate. ”Be that the place whereinto all fare, eftsoon expiry?”

The great Ruler of the Gods shook His head, dismissing the assumption that all would join Him within the Divine Palace, by His side amongst the other gods. He continued to speak softly, though with a voice that carried with it a modicum of pride as His words graced the Tlatoani.

”No, your destiny is much greater. As such is the fate for those as mighty as yourself, dear Tlanextic, that you would be the first to earn a seat at my side within the hallowed Halls of the Gods. I know you shall understand.”

Tlanextic nodded, and in that moment the shuffling scrape of a dozen claws upon stone echoed from a passage outside. It was time; his escort had come, and so they followed after their ruler’s gradual gait. The Monarch of All walked with them too, and even the base guards who lacked the Sight could sense His power. They knew then that this must be a great sacrifice indeed, to draw the attention of a divine; not even they knew that it was to be Tlanextic’s final such rite, though.

It was in the sweltering heat of the volcano’s open caldera where all had assembled. Two suns illuminated the shadows of the pit: the one overhead, and the Great Sun among them. And the red-glow of the Galbar’s blood was overbrim in the bottom, a feverish lake of fire, and its red glow likewise banished darkness. The air itself simmered from the calidity.

Tlanextic lumbered to a ledge imminent above the bubbling lava. Aides made to bring whetted granite chisels and an obsidian bodkin, but the Tlatoani reared up to stand on only four claws, and used one of his foremost to wave them away. No more bleeding.

”Hist! Hear ye?” the lord quoth, and thousands of salamanders affirmed with cheer or roar. Inly Tlanextic began to grow afeared, but the Great Sun’s assurances helped to banish the seeds of those poisoned thoughts before they could sprout. ”My time is forby,” he declared suddenly, a statement that shocked them all into silence. The bubbling of the lava and hiss of its volcanic gases were all that sounded.

”Ye rejoice; meseems not one but two spirits grace us,” he continued, one molten eye flickering to spot the silhouette of Ea Nebel where she had stood in one of the few shaded alcoves.

The maiden stood silent, then revealed herself with dignity: a slim Tletzintli, her face covered with fibreglass woven as finely as tetlacuicitl-wool, and bright bangles of moonstone on her wrists. Under the veil, none could see her alien eyes which did not shine, nor that they faced not the crowd, but the Great Sun.

“By the grace of the Highest God, let the sacrifice proceed,” she said, and all heard her river-soft voice.

The Great Sun let loose a warm smile as Ea Nebel let herself be known to the masses, His head giving her an affirmative nod before the almighty gaze shifted over those under Tlanextic’s reign. When He spoke, the voice boomed and yet was soft, all within the Empire could hear and all would be graced by the Monarch of All’s words as the gentle words swayed within the breeze that carried it.

”Know, children of Yoliyachicoztl, that you have prospered under Tlanextic’s rule, for it is he who had banished the Smoking Demon. Know that it was he who fought where others could not. O’ mighty Tlanextic, may your sacrifice keep the great beast from awakening for generations to come, and may you serve by my side forever longer as you ascend to the Sun.”

”Let my yearn be discovered,” Tlanextic boomed, ”I hight lief Yaotl as Tlatoani; rule hence, rule well. Take my last sacrifice – this gift – and inscribe my name, and forget not my rede.”

And then Tlanextic cast himself from the ledge, down into the brimstone. The lava did billow as his massive stony form fell upon it, but then there was nothing as he sank and his once-formidable body returned to flame. Only once the body was no more did the Great Sun look into the air, before reaching out to pluck something out of the rising gasses. There was an iridescent orb sitting within His hands, a soul, Tlanextic’s soul. Aloft He held it so that all present may witness it, to bask in its radiant glory before extending a hand to Ea Nebel and beckoning her to join Him at His side. With nary a tremble, the young goddess approached, and laid her salamandrine hand in His claw, turning once more to the people. Her form wavered, like a reflection on rippled water, and for a moment they saw her embodied as a woman in imperial regalia. Then she was one of them once more.

”Yaotl, as Tlanextic’s chosen heir, may you strive in his great footsteps and lead this empire to yet further heights!”

With that proclamation, the Great Sun and the Shrouded Maiden disappeared in a flash of light, leaving Yaotl to pick up where the First Tlatoani had left. In the sky, the sun had shifted from its zenith to pronounce the end of the monumental event for Tlanextic’s empire.




Upon a grassy knoll, the Monarch of All looked over Ea Nebel, His true form, albeit not as mountainous as it truly was, still stood over the Lady of the Grave. His eyes looked over her before dismissively looking away, offering not a word before speaking to the soul He held within His hands. Only when He released it to go to the Divine Palace did the Monarch of All turn back to face Ea Nebel, once more in natural form, and speak to her.

”Good day, spawn of Iqelis. It is a bit early for us to be meeting. Though, that is not an issue. Pray tell, why were you in Tlanextic’s empire?”

“Sire,” Ea Nebel curtsied in her gown and held the pose. “I wanted to see what happens when a demi-god dies.”

The Monarch of All let out a cruel laugh, almost mocking the assumption that Tlanextic had truly been of the divine without holding a shard. The four arms of His form each grew long claws as He stepped towards the smaller goddess, casting a long shadow over her form. He let out a nearly frustrated sigh as He could not bring His true menace to bear against one who did not deserve His ire. The claws slowly receded back into His hands. He spoke slowly, His voice carrying with it a neutrality as His supposed animosity subsided.

”Tlanextic was not a true Demi-God. He was surely powerful, and soaked in divine energy, but he was not one such as yourself.”

She nodded slowly. “You honoured him very highly. His reign must have been great...” She looked up and held the innumerable nameless colours of His eyes firmly in her gaze for the first time. Only for a moment. Only through the veil. “Who else on this Galbar could possibly have earned such a privilege?”

”None have proven themselves enough. Tlanextic has done a great service for me and my realm by banishing one of my ancient enemies. No mere mortal could perform such a feat. Yet…”

The Monarch of All looked away as a pang of guilt overtook Him and He spoke in a saddening tone filled with that same guilt.

”I am sorry that it is you that must answer for your father’s crimes.”

Ea Nebel blinked, stiffened a little. “I… understand that he has slain the god, Aletheseus. I can only imagine that it was in his nature.” She tugged a little on the wide skirt of her gown, fingers curling in against the black lace of her glove. “It was before I was- born. I only know what I’ve been told.”

It was then that He let out a small sigh, looking to the skies and trying to speak more about why He had done what He had to Ea Nebel. Yet, none of His years of rulership had made Him ready to face what He was currently dealing with. For once, the great Monarch of All was stuttering over his words before two for His hands went to rub the sides of His head. Knowing that He had to tell Ea Nebel to free Himself of the feeling, He spoke in a slow voice.

”I have imposed a punishment upon Iqelis, one which would ultimately determine your fate, for that crime. I know that you do not yet know of what I speak, but in due time you will. I will not tell you what it is that you must do. What I have required of Iqelis to do to you.”

Ea Nebel’s hands tightened into fists on the silk of her gown. She could not unclench them. “Very- Very well. Sire. My father and I will suffer his just punishment together. I trust that your judgement will be both fair and wise.” A bead of milky sweat like candle-wax had formed on her forehead. “Is there anything else that I should know?”

Within a moment, the Monarch of All was sat upon one knee with His eyes gazing sadly upon Ea Nebel, unable to meet her gaze. Raising an arm, He tore loose a length of fabric from His own cloak, just large enough to fit around Ea Nebel’s form. It was there that He threw it around her, only then able to meet her gaze.

”Know that while I cannot tell you of what you might face, you can be prepared for it. This- it will allow you to make even the fiercest and most vile of creatures enjoy your presence, so long as you bear no hate in your heart.”

Ea Nebel shivered a little as the shawl settled on her shoulders, lifting its edge to her gaze with trembling hands. The entire surface was like a portal into a kaleidoscope world of many-coloured forms and patterns. Every angle of it showed a new parallax of hue, even as she moved. “Thank you,” she said, feeling oddly exposed under the cover of a garment so bright, “Grandfather.”

Grandfather.

That was a title that the Monarch of All did not think that He would have heard from the likes of someone whom He felt had been wronged. He froze, unable to know what to think of the word, unable to accept family from someone so below His station. Family had been forfeit for Him since He had taken up the name and station that was the Monarch of All. Yet He spoke not against the word- ‘Grandfather’- truly not knowing what to say. He knew not of whether or not to consider Ea Nebel as family, as He knew not of whether or not to even consider the gods themselves as His family. The Monarch of All rose away from Ea Nebel and spoke to Her.

”I- I shall be watching over you, Ea Nebel.”

For her part, she could only nod, and then, of course, curtsy. It would soon be time for her to depart.

And so the Monarch of All returned to His hall and climbed atop the Jade Throne with a troubled brow. Finally, He cleared his mind, and called out, "Arvum, your works have not gone unnoticed; you, who Taught Man to Toil, are to be honored. I would give offer unto you a courtyard in my own palace, if only you will cultivate it into a worthy garden. And Zenia, Soul of Joy, I would like to see you in these troubled times."






Four Questions


Know this my kin; know this tale of our lords, our creators. I have traveled far to give you this story.

There once was a tribe, a great tribe, whose lands spread far and its herds knew no bounds and their mountains stood above all others. Their opulence was unmatched and the gifts to their allies were grander than any dwarf could even imagine. For all this grandeur, one flaw made itself clear to all who knew of them and all who heard of them; their greed was one to surpass any boundary for they were determined to keep their wealth and hoard it away from all. The tribe hid away their wealth in mountainside caves, only coming out with their herds to allow them to graze along some mountainside patches. They turned away the downtrodden, the beleaguered, and kicked away their own tribesmen for not having anything to offer to the tribe.

This was the life of the Four-Top Tribe, one of greed so consuming that at times they barely resembled a tribe for even the children were taught to have it out for themselves. The way of life drove away potential allies and traders, but the Four-Top cared little, so long as they held their hoards and herds, they were content to be isolated upon their mountains. Eventually, their friends drifted away and people stopped coming to their lands altogether for so self-consumed they were. “Wretches,” they’d be called, “Paupers,” they’d respond, even by those who cared about them most would all disappear. This did little to open their eyes, even if they had, some say that it would not have changed their fate.

One day, as the sun looked over the mountain and the winter’s breath began to caress the mountainside, there came a stranger who was haggard and without wealth. He wore a cloak that hid his form, hid his face with the exception of a long, graying beard that extended well past his chest. The stranger beseeched them for nothing more than a place to rest his head, somewhere where the cold would not bite at him and where he could warm himself. Each of the Four-Top sent him away, out into the cold and surely to die by night when the all-consuming frost came. Meanwhile, they sat by their fires, warm and relaxed, not even a thought of the old dwarf who had come to visit them had dared to cross their minds.

The next day, the haggard dwarf came back once more and, to their surprise, he had no sign of black toes or fingers; the frost had seemingly done nothing to him. They believed that the aging man had simply found a place to stay for the night tucked away from the deadly frost. When the haggard dwarf spoke once more, he asked them but naught but some wool so that he may make his cloak warmer so that the chills would not bother him and he could sleep more comfortably at night. Again, each of the Four-Tops refused him and this time said that if he wanted more wool then he would have had his own herds. Again, the haggard dwarf left and they believed that this time he might die to the frost as it crept through their mountains. They knew that none could survive twice out in the exposed mountains; death would come in time and rid them of a nuisance.

For the third day, that same haggard dwarf came back without a mark on his cloak, not seeming as if the frost had come for him in the slightest. They asked him how he survived the frost but he would not answer their question, for he did not wish to give his secrets despite their pleading. Instead, he asked if he could drink from their river to patch his thirst and then he would tell them how he survived the deadly cold. Once more, the Four-Peaks refused for the dwarf was not one of them and so he would not partake of their water, for which they had plenty. Again, the haggard one left surely this time to die of dehydration, the ultimate killer, for none could live without water.

Yet once more, for the fourth day, the haggard dwarf came back to them, this time with anger and heartache within his voice. Before they could ask how he survived the night again, he asked them for nothing but the scraps of their food, so that he may eat and then be gone from their sight. This time the Four-Tops all considered letting the haggard one have some of their food. Had they changed their hearts at this old dwarf’s persistence? All the same, though, they would each turn him away. He roared at them in anger, not for himself, not for being rejected, but for not taking kindness upon an old weary soul that would have died without shelter, in the cold, and without drink or food. He raged against them before he told them that he would have given them the riches of the gods had they once accepted his pleas of salvation.

It was only then that they fell to their knees seeking forgiveness, begging him to give them the riches and that they would become the best people that he had ever known. But it was too late and instead would look upon them with disgust in his eye before telling them that Voligan had made a mistake in making them. This wrought confusion and fear from the Four-Tops who continued to plead to the rich dwarf, even as His eyes began to glow and as He spoke to them one final time.

It was there that He said, ”You know only greed, it has tainted your souls and made you calloused to the sufferings of the weak. So, you shall walk this planet forever more, food will turn to ash, water will be dried, clothes ripped at the seams, and the frost shall forever follow you. Let it be known that the Four-Tops will be nothing more than wandering spirits who will never satisfy their wants and desires.”

And so, the Four-Tops were cursed to wander Galbar forever as spirits, the dead wanting nothing more than to merely live once again. Their own greed had blinded them, made them think that they were above the sufferings of others and now they paid for it. Listen well kinsman! Know that greed is a curse and should we see a poor downtrodden soul, we should reach out and help should they ask! For it is the great Sun God that watches over our every action!


Cycle 2










It was a dark day over the storming seas of the Galbar, a day so dark that it seemed to consume the very lands of Voligan. A dark miasma threatened the lands with inescapable dark clouds and yet, its source was constantly shifting, always on the move. From Termina to the outer banks of Thousand Lakes and Orsus, the clouds seemed to concentrate to blot out the Divine Palace from view. Panic struck mortals, animals whipped into desperate frenzy knew what the darkness meant, and plants refused to bloom. A battle was coming and the Galbar itself seemed to know as the inner mantle of the planet seemed to echo with battle cries.

Yet, there would be no battle this day, not as long as the great sea serpent was still hunting its elusive quarry, a constant game of cat and mouse. It was a tedious frenzy of movement, the oceans themselves churning as the great war beast of the Monarch of All refused to relent and the Pariah refused to be caught. However, up in the Divine Palace, the Monarch of All sat upon His throne and gazed down upon the growing darkness. He saw that darkness swirled over the world and He could not help but feel the need to investigate where His new enemy had decided to come from. So, the Monarch of All stood from the Jade Throne and opened the bridge once more, yet, he did not step through it.

The Monarch of All hesitated in stepping upon the Galbar, not out of fear or threat of the great Pariah that distantly loomed, but of the sight that He came upon. He saw a mountain range, Serendipity’s End, and could nearly gaze upon the gravesite that had been erected for Asheleven. It seemed that He was right to chastise Yudaiel when He had, but He knew that, in a sense, He had essentially killed off a part of Himself as all the gods were an extension of His very being, whether they liked it or not. The murder of Asheleven was nothing more than Him continuing to weaken and deteriorate; the wound ached at the thought. Worse yet, He could see that the shard of Luck, the very being of Asheleven, was not something that He could recover as the shard had been smashed and ground to dust compared to Him; now it was nothing but bloody diamonds scattered across the mountains.

Finally mustering the strength to step into the graveyard, the Monarch let loose a single breath as the lands parted beneath Him once more, forming a great stairwell that descended into the dark rock below. He continued walking, taking His time to inspect the walls as He descended before turning and making a long hallway that stretched beyond what would be the horizon of the planet. The Monarch of All came upon a sphere, one that was sinister and imposing, yet shined as if it were made of onyx. At a time before the gods, He had once thought it had been impenetrable, unable to be opened from the inside, and yet, here He was, gazing upon a part of the sphere that had been shattered and broken.

To think that such a seal could be broken by the likes of nothing more than a mere beast of war. The Monarch hated the thought, but knew that He had to come to terms with such a fact that the seal had indeed been broken. Though, He noted that the cracks had formed along the outside of the cage, not fully penetrating the onyx sphere; the gods in making Galbar had weakened the structure. The Monarch of All reared His head back and let loose a call to the gods, His divine will being carried by the very winds themselves.

”Homura, Highest Judge of the Monarch, I ask of you look to maintain the law of my realm, ensure that none dare break the bounds the tie us. Chailiss, whose Breath bears Icy Winds, make known that Homura’s judgement reaches all should she say so.”

The Monarch of All let loose a breath before looking to the ground and seeing the great tracks left behind by the beast, the pariah, and decided to look to where it led. He saw that it led straight up, He needed not track where it went, however, as He had already fought and sent a hound after the beast. Yet, He knew it to be better safe than to regret it later, but He was no hunter tracking a quarry to the ends of the planet. His voice became quiet, only carried by the softest winds so that no other would be able to hear His message.

”Tuku, my Master of the Hunt, I require your aid.”




The Pariah and the Serpent




The throne felt cold as the Monarch of All continued to gaze out upon the Galbar, occasionally shifting over to the moon that had been crafted by Yudaiel, only to then inevitably stare upon the spot where Ao-Yurin had been struck down by His hand. Two clawed hands ran themselves over the armrests of the Jade throne, causing a high pitched scraping sound to resonate throughout the empty palace halls. It had never occurred to Him what it would feel like with the weight of murder upon His shoulders, He had never considered such a thing before, but in the moment, be had thought it to be an act of kindness to end Ao-Yurin’s suffering. The thoughts weighed upon the Monarch of All as He continued to gaze upon that spot, yet, He knew that inaction would continue to perpetuate the feeling that was gnawing upon His soul.

With a sigh, the Monarch of All stood from His throne and opened the bridge to the Galbar, stepping forth until His feet stood atop the calm waters of the oceans. There was nothing but the open seas, even the horizon displayed nothing more than the creation of a now dead god, save for the occasional hole that had been brought about by Ruina’s hand. The Monarch of All looked down upon the ocean, seeing through the waves with perfect clarity, seeing the fish go about their meager lives and the reefs that occasionally dotted the sea floor. Yet, there was a further darkness deeper into the seas, one that was impenetrable even to His own absolute and indomitable gaze. Normally, nothing on the Galbar could hide from His sight, however, this darkness did not seem to be normal and appeared to be the antithesis of His divine light. He already knew what that meant, for there were few things that could have brought one of His subjects so low.

The Monarch of All dove into the water, His body compressing into that of a terrifying creature: an elongated snout filled with teeth gave way to a rotund body, six flippers dotted its sides, and a tail longer than any whale propelled His new form. The great tail swaying back forth sent the Monarch of All deeper and deeper, coming towards that impenetrable darkness that His gaze could not seem to move through. Then, with a sudden turn, the Monarch of All began to circle the darkness, knowing that it was not all-encompassing amongst the sea floor, before one of His eyes focused on the darkness and noticed that while He was looking at the darkness, it too was looking upon Him. It was a hideous creature, one that ate all the light that touched it and spat out the hideous fumes that coalesced around it. Such a sickening display brought nothing but hatred and anger to the Monarch of All, and He knew at that moment that He must strike first before the beast attacked.

The form of the Monarch of All’s beastial form turned and launched itself at the beast, though He had not expected the creature to launch a counterattack. Smoke billowed into the glowing eyes of the Monarch, causing the supreme god to veer off His course and slam into the sandy bottom of the ocean. However, such tricks were little more than a nuisance to such a being like the Monarch of All, who launched Himself at the monster, His teeth clamping down upon its arm and ushering it to release a bellow of pain. The smoke became deeper and blocked more light, but the Monarch would not lose His grip upon the being, not while He had it right where he wanted it. Then, a force only capable of being produced by another divine slammed into the top of bestial form, dazing the great Monarch of All and forcing him loose before a hand grabbed the back of His head and threw Him back.

Transforming back to His true form and reorienting himself, the Monarch of All let out a snarl to the creature, disgust and an anger unseen filling the air.

”So, you finally show yourself, pariah. I am impressed you show such strength.”

Yet, the beast bellowed out yet more of its black smoke as it spoke back to the supreme god, definitely responding in a low guttural tone and in a tongue unknown to reality, as the Monarch of All had decreed it. Then, it launched itself upon the ruler, who caught the beast as the two flew through the oceans, each moment that passed the two beings hitting each other with such force as to cause miniature earthquakes and pockets of the ocean to temporarily recede before collapsing back in upon itself. For a moment, the Monarch of All seemed to gain the upper hand in the bout, as one his clawed hands dug itself into the skin of the beast and spilt ichor into the ocean, choking out life and blacking out the sun. The creature responded in kind by slamming a fist into the Monarch of All’s side, causing the deity to buckle before the supreme deity grasped onto its arm and flung into the ground with such force as to split the very ground in twain.

Unrelenting, the Monarch of All advanced at such speed that the water parted before Him and when He impacted the creature, a great explosion ruptured the ground even further. Yet, such a blow was not enough to fell a creature made with divine intention, as the blackened monster loosed yet another wail and leapt upon the Monarch of All, and the battle continued, the two fighting their way towards the surface, striking and knocking each other all the while as more dark ichor spilled into seas. Then, the creature sent a mighty shock into the Monarch of All, delivering a punch into the great wound upon the chest of the Monarch, causing the divine being to recoil and gasp for air that He did not need. Staggering backward, the Monarch of All grasped at His chest, feeling as if He were unable to breath.

The creature advanced, but with all the energy the Monarch of All could muster, He sent the palms of two His hands into the beast’s chest, sending it flying backward. He hunched over, tracing the edge of His wound, expecting the creature to mindlessly come and attack Him once more. Yet, it did not come as He had expected and He waited and waited, until He had regained His breath and when His vision was no longer blurred. The great Monarch of All let out a pain groan as He straightened himself, looking to the horizon from where the pariah had been found to.

With a hiss, the Monarch of All looked to His chest to see a singular trickle of blood roaming down towards His abdomen. He took a single claw to it, dragging some of His divine essence to His eyes and merely gazing upon the sight of such divine ichor, the life blood of all that existed upon Galbar. Anger resonated as He looked upon the blood for He was immortal, how could it be that such a being of perfection as Himself could be brought so low by nothing more than a mere beast of burden. The anger boiled over as He let loose a scream into the air, nails digging into balled fists that brought out yet more of the divine ichor that now openly fell into the waters below Him.

As He loosed his cry of pain and anger, a small sea serpent came across the divine substance but knew better than to touch the blood. Yet, the serpent, flicking its tongue, could taste the poison left behind by the beast that had fought the lord of everything. It saw the devastation of its hunting grounds and now the pain of a god. Wanting to better serve the great Master of All, the small, but determined, sea snake turned back to the divine substance and threw itself into it. The serpent felt the divine ichor surge through it, driving it to become more than it was. Its body grew and grew, enough to swallow a whale then to more than two, then larger enough to fit a mountain but its slender back.

Two frontal legs sprouted from the limbless form, giant gliding wings erupted on either side of the great beast, and tendrils swayed from the beast’s chin. With a maw of middle filled teeth, the serpent looked upon the Monarch of All gazing upon its master before it bowed its head out of obedience and respect for the ruler of the gods.

The Monarch of All looked down at the serpent, feeling His anger leave Him for a moment before folding His arms behind His back.

”You are a brave little creature, serpent. For that I shall reward you; first with a name, Zhongcheng, and secondly, with a task.”

The Monarch of All paused in thought as the bridge to the Divine Palace opened behind Him, the Heavens in full view for Zhongcheng to see just passed his master. It was a beauty that no true mortal had seen, and yet, the beast knew not beauty or grace for he could only comprehend the great supreme one and his orders.

”Find the pariah, track it to wherever it has decided to crawl to. Then, let loose a roar to the heavens and summon me.”

With those orders, the Monarch of All turned and walked through the bridge, leaving the beast to its hunt



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