Legion02

Divinus: The God RP, Mk. IV

“You shouldn’t be in the fields all day.” One of the humans said as he looked up to face the four-winged angel working beside him. working through the earth with the same kind of hoe he used. The field around them was being prepared, and the sun-mother willing they would have a bountiful harvest. Again. “You’re our queen. Queens shouldn’t be here.”

Soleira never stopped working. “I’m not a queen.” She said. “Just… someone wanting to help.” The humans around her were insistent. They kept calling her queen or chiefess. She didn’t feel like a queen. She didn’t want to feel like a queen. Working in the field, ankle deep in the fertile soil with sweat rolling off her brow was always a good reminder of who she was. Just a girl, an Oraeliari. One without her halo even. Despite that, several other of her kin had chosen to join her.

Both of them, an all the other human farmers, continued their work in the field. Then when evening fell. “You did very well.” Soleira said as she petted the oxen that pulled the ards through the earth. They just brayed at her in acknowledgement. They were simple creatures, but always willing to help. Having thanked all the creatures that helped her and her people work the earth, they all returned to their homes. Soleras they called it, in honor of her and the sun. Soleira returned to her colorful clay-brick house as well. It was larger, but not by much. Just enough so her four wings wouldn’t push everything off tables and other furniture.

But before she entered, something glimmered on the horizon. Something larger than an Oraeliari or Neiyari. Other people stepped out as well, to look at the quickly approaching figure on the red horizon. Warriors, a necessity Soleira had learned to accept, formed up. Armed with leather, wooden spears and hide shields. A few of the people gasped in fear.

Luckily the figure seemed to descend faster than first though. At that rate, it would land not inside the village but further away. Amid the newly tilted fields. Soleira didn’t take any chances though. She moved out, ready to meet the strange thing outside. Hoping it wasn’t dangerous. In the distance, black spots of crows and eagles flew out towards the stranger. Soleolis’ first line of protection were the animals around it. Like a cloud they approached the thing, then flew away again. Soleira frowned out of confusion. The animals had never let her down.

The figured came closer. It looks animalistic. When it was close enough, dusk had well and truly set. She thought she could see white fur. It came closer. It was large and catlike. Finally, it landed before her, and Soleira could see the animal in its full glory. A leon, though she had never seen such an animal before. Immediately smiled as she extended her hand towards. “Hey there.” She said softly. The animal nuzzled her hand. “You must be far from home. What brings you here.”

“Nothing but an old man.” Something said from atop the leon.

Surprised, Soleira took a step back. Then, appearing from the other side stepped an old, robed man. His long robes were strained with mud and sweat and filthy rain. His beard was an uncut, untended mess. His face was filthy. Yet his eyes flickered with a light she had never seen. Not even in the rainbow eyes of the humans.

“Who are you?” She asked as she still petted the leon, who gladly accepted the attention.

“Just a stranger. My name is.. Kal.” He made a small bow. As much as his body would allow. “You must be Soleira.” He then said with a smile.

“I am. Have you heard of me?” There were some stories of her going around in the Luminant, she knew. Several of the nearby villages had already come paying tribute in gold. Believing that was the only thing she wanted.

“In a way. Would you mind if we spoke some where more… comfortable? My old body you see.” The stranger said.

Immediately Soleira stepped forward to take him by the arm. “Yes, yes! Of course. Apologies. Allow me.” With the strength of an Oraeliari it was easy to uphold the frail human. Slowly they walked towards the village. With the winged lion creature in tow. Villagers were awaiting her return at the edge of torchlight. When they saw their queen helping an old man walk, with a lion walking behind them they all took a step backwards. “Easy! Easy! He’s not here to hurt us.”

The novelty of the stranger faded quickly in the face of the winged, white lion. Soleira stopped for a moment and turned to the leon. “Please be nice to my- I mean these people. They don’t mean you any harm.” The creature let out a grunt and then a long growl. Soleira smiled. “Yes of course.” Then turned to one of the people around her. “Do we have any meat?”

“One of the goats took its final breath just this morning.” The man sounded gleeful about it.

Soleira only felt sadness. “It’s best you feed my new friend over there. He has flown a lot and has barely eaten.” With a nod the man walked away. Assumingly to grab the meat. Then she and this Kal continued to walk on until they were in Soleira’s house.

“I’ve got some fresh water, and the sap of elder berries.” She said as the man took a seat. “Oh and some herbs for a brew. If you want I can make some bread but that’ll take a moment. Sorry, I’ve got nothing fresh. Maybe some berries?” She offered.

The man just raised his hand in refusal, but with a bright smile. “Thank you but-“ His stomach grumbled. “Actually I think I’ll take the berries, and the sap if you’d please. It would appear this body missed food and water more than I thought. Ha! Mortals, how do you keep going?” He joked and laughed.

The four-winged Oraeliari didn’t join. She just raised an eyebrow before gathering up everything. Moments later they were both sitting, Soleira in her special chair that didn’t crush her wings against her back. The man was devouring the berries. Eventually she felt compelled to ask: “So… Kal. Where are you from that you’ve found such a strange companion.”

He liked his fingers clean before answering: “I’m from the far north. A place called the Highlands. Beyond the mountain range there. Do you still call it the Anchor? Well, I’m from a place even further than that. They call it the Dûnanlands now, I think.”

Soleira just frowned and cocked her head, then remembered the stories of the far away Frostlands. Where the bitter winter cold struck for more than half a year. A place of stone and hard soil. Not a kind land, especially not compared to the fertile Golden Fields just a bit to the south-west or the Luminant itself. “You must’ve travelled for very long.”

“I have, actually.” And he looked that way as well. Even smelled that way. “And I guess you now want to know why I am here.” He leaned backwards. Making himself comfortable. Soleira quietly nodded. “I’m here for you?”

“For me?”

“I am what you could call… a prophet. But a crappy one. I’ve only ever had one vision in my entire life, and I’ve gotten it a year ago. When I was in that cold land. In my dream I saw you, standing on an island floating in the large void.“ he pointed up at the sky. “You are destined for many great things.”

She let out a chuckle. “I’m sorry you came all the way here for me but I am not even a queen. Your dreams, however vivid, were just that. Just dreams. I’m not made for greatness. There are others for that. The sun giant maybe, but not me.” She got up and walked over to her small larder. “You can stay as long as you want though.”

“I figured as much.” Kal did not seem to take offense at Soleira’s dismissal. He just raised his cup in dismissal. Seemingly accepting it before taking a sip. The two of them kept talking though. About the Frostlands, the split rivers that ran along the east of the great mountains and the sun-touched, golden lands to the far north-west. Where a temple sat that could cleans everything. He told Soleira about the leons and Lucia, the Firstborn of the sun. The girl took it all in. Alas, in the end both of them were exhausted and fell in a deep sleep.

~

“How do you do that?” One of the mortal humans asked as they watched Kal simply mutter a sentence and raise his vertically held, flat hand. Before him, the earth opened up. Creating a furrow without ever touching an ard.

Kal just turned and smiled. “This? It’s a little spell created up north. Do you want me to teach you?” Despite his casual toon, glee rose up in the mortal newcomer.

“Magic?” The man said, taking a step back. A few of the people looked anxiously around. “We aren’t mages, sir.” Mages here were still rare. It took study, and there were few opportunities in a world where dreadful creatures could come from the skies and kill you. Even in the relative safety of Soleras.

“Nonsense! Here, I shall show you. Just hold out your hand and say the following words: Tennath, Erak Nee Tiré.” A few of the farmers dared to step forward, closed their eyes, held out their palms and recited the words. From the Winds of Magic high above, Qael could sense the flicker of an attempt. A careful touch of a mortal upon the mana. It remained unresponsive to such a delicate, uncertain touch. “It takes practice.” Kal said, and then joined the farmers in working the fields by hand.

It felt weird, working the fields as a god in a mortal body. Despite the body’s shape, he though he made good progress. Not as fast as the younger men of course, but fast enough. That wasn’t really his point. At night a few words muttered would make him catch up. The village of Soleras wouldn’t suffer because of him. Still, as he took a break at midday he realized how tough it was to be mortal. He looked around, beats of sweat fell from his face. His muscles ached. It was a strange, but not entirely unpleasant feeling. All around him people were working still. Some planted seeds, other just dug. He smiled as Soleira was hard at work in the far off distance as well.

“She’s been a blessing to us.” One of the farmers, an older gentleman though not much older than Kal, said. “Just wished she would start leading us for real.” There was a sense of flustration in the mortal’s words. “I don’t know why she keeps refusin’.”

“Take heed friend.” Kal said as he turned around to face the man and put a hand on his shoulder. “Someday, a god will crown her as empress.”

Summary

Soleira is helping to work the farmland, though farmers insist that she shouldn’t. Still, she just continues. Finding the work to keep her humble. In the evening though, a strange thing is spotted at the red horizon. A creature many times bigger than a Oraeliari came flying towards them. Luckily it landed outside the village of Soleras. Soleira steps out to meet the creature, and then also the rider it carries. A stranger from the Frostlands.

She takes him to her own hut, where she offers him food and drinks. He accepts and then they talk about why he is there. He claims he is a prophet who saw she was destined for greatness. Soleira rejects the vision, claiming others are destined for such things but not she. Still, she allows the stranger to stay as long as he desires.

The next day the stranger, Kal, uses magic to dig a furrow. Astonished, the farmers ask to teach them, though they’re not really magically talented and the spell fails in their hands. No matter, everyone goes to work by hand then. Even Kal. Which gives Qael himself some insight into mortal lives, and allows him to admire the hard work of his daughter. A farmer says he wished she would finally accept her title as queen, but Qael tells him not to worry. Someday she will be crowned as empress by a god.

Prestige

Post Length: +10K Characters
+5 Prestige >> The Conduit
+5 Prestige >> Soleira
-3 Prestige >> The Conduit: Extraordinary feat: Tame a Leon

Divinus: The God RP, Mk. IV

A strange sight approached the gates of the castle. An old man with a long, white beard. Completely alone. Seemingly having trouble walking. Supported by a straight and true branch. Wrapped in a long, heavy green cloak. To say that he was walking would be an insult to walking. It looked more as if he was dragging his own body. Yet he kept moving from the distance. Strange but only slightly. Yet as he came close to the great gates he looked up and pulled his hood away. Revealing two rainbow colored eyes, glowing visibly even in the midday sun. He looked up with a rather content smile. “Hail denizens of Caisteal Na Grèine.” The man spoke with a gravel-like but distinctly mortal voice. “I seek entry to your sundom.”

Three heads looked over the wall, each with long, golden locks that drifted lazily in the breeze as a bird might. All were women with curious eyes.

One of them eventually spoke up, "Hail stranger! What business might you have here?" She shouted down.

The stranger’s smile brightened. “I’m here to visit a very old friend.” He shouted back up. “She goes by the name of Lucia. But I believe you know her as the daughter of the sun.” Well, he wasn’t entirely sure that’s what they called her these days. Maybe it was just one of the many names she had these days. Still, anyone who laid eyes on Lucia would grasp what he meant.

The three exchanged looks and then two disappeared. "Give us a moment good humani!" She shouted down again. And indeed, it took several minutes before the other two returned, stealing away the stare of the woman who had remained. There was another quick exchange and there was some muffled shouting on the other side of the castle walls. Before long, the gates began to open and Lucia waited in the growing gap, wearing plate armor. Her eyes narrowed when she saw him.

"You say you are my friend but I'm sorry, I don't think I've ever seen you before. Is this some sort of trick?" Lucia asked, eyeing him down.

For a second the stranger frowned. Looking confused, but then realization dawned on his face. “Ah, of course, of course.” He said as he looked down to himself. Seemingly observing his own body. “Mortal bodies can be terribly constricting.” He held out his hand forming a cup as if he was to catch water. Above it appeared a bright orb with endlessly shifting colors on its surface. The surface shifted to that of a sun. Glowing and warm. Then it turned into a miniature moon with its white, dust seas and deep, grey craters. Once more it shifted and turned into a statuette of Lucia, made from the same stone of the Sunlit Temple that was so far away from here now. But then the shape cracked and crumbled in a hundred little pieces. All of them carried away with the wind as if it was ash. With the demonstration over, he looked back up at Lucia with a slightly challenging grin on his face and asked: “Can you do that now too?”

A slow realization dawned upon Lucia's face, becoming a grin. She outstretched her hand and from it came her own mini sun. It shimmered and changed colors. From yellow to red, to orange and green. Then she closed her palm and the light vanished.

"It's been a long time." she smiled.

The stranger smiled bright as he saw the fruit of Lucia’s skill. She had grown proficient to be sure. “It has been, but that was excellent.” He said as he leaned forward. Looking like he expected to move but his feet remained firmly on the ground. When he realized he wasn’t moving he looked down and once again a dawning look appeared on his face. “Oh right.” He said as he took a step forward, looking as if he just relearned how to walk. “I swear, I don’t know how you mortals do it.” He said as he stepped closer, with still that awkward walk as if he was dragging his own body. “Would you mind if we find somewhere to sit? I really have chosen the wrong body to control. It feels as if it’s collapsing on itself. Everything feels so.. loose.”

Lucia walked over to him and looped her arm around his own and helped him walk. As they walked, the gates began to shut behind them. "Come let us find a quiet spot." she hummed then commented, "What a strange avatar you've chosen, Qael."

“Would that this was an avatar.” He said, sounding somewhat strained. Though the help of Lucia was deeply appreciated. With the inkling of divine power he had to use the body would cease aging, but that wouldn’t help the aching joints or fatigued muscles now. “I can see the merit of choosing a more corporeal envoy like my brothers and sisters chose to make.” But still, his Winds had their own strengths as well. Besides, he just wanted to use this form to explore the world from a more grounded view. “But enough about me, tell me. What have you been up to? I see you’ve made yourself an odd home here. I never figured you for a queen if I’m honest.” With curious eyes he looked around the place.

Lucia laughed and his eyes wandered to many curious faces. Up close the golden haired ones were very tall and they walked with wings upon their backs. Many were doing mundane tasks as they walked by them and a few were training with weapons of light here and there. All gave them, or perhaps Lucia, a nod of respect. She then spoke, "A home this is for now, but by no means permanent. I am not a queen either… More of a person in charge sent by my mother. It’s a bit complicated. This place is war torn, the land I mean, and my mother feels to blame because she helped the people here. She asked me and my wife to build a lasting peace in her stead. To prevent further bloodshed. We have the support of one major player here and some smaller ones, and we are reaching out to others. I am optimistic we can achieve our goals by next winter at the latest. Hopefully.” She said a bit quieter, as they walked down a long hallway. ”How are.... Godly things? Oh! How is Orb?” she asked.

“You are describing a queen, my dear.” Qael playfully noted as he walked beside her. One could hardly become more worthy of that title. But he didn’t push the issue. Some just didn’t want the crown. He kept an attentive ear as she talked about the lands around them. A small smile formed on his lips, as he knew another faction would join Lucia soon enough. Though he doubted she would notice in the beginning. And then, of course, there were the Cenél. Those stubborn, proudful people that he was growing fond of. He wasn’t certain when they would send their envoys. They had already struck up a deal with the Dûnans. It was only a matter of time before they would come take a knee before the daughter of the sun.

“Orb is good.” Qael said as he tried to keep pace with Lucia. “He’s far away from here sadly, but he has several hundred pupils now. None of them will grasp magic as well as you, but they are good students and are making great strides in magic.” Every few weeks a new god-forged spell was hooked and mastered. Bound to glyphs, phrases and moves. To his own delight, the Mystics seemed to have no problem with sharing their knowledge so far. For a second he opened his mouth to say that he misses her. But that would be a lie. Orb was, despite his sometimes living demeanor, still simply an feelingless automaton.

“Other godly business…is good as well I suppose.” He then continued, his mind pulling towards his twins. “I…discovered I have genuine children. Two daughters. Soleira and Auriëlle.” He smiled even at the mere mention of their names. Was this what love was?

They entered a modest looking room. There sat a large bed, some nice furniture with clothes strewn about on them and a cozy nook with a few tables and a fireplace. ”Daughters! Why isn’t that wonderful!” Lucia beamed, guiding him to a chair next to the fireplace. Lucia then threw some logs in it and shot a beam of light that scorched them into a blaze. ”This place is very warm as it is, so I don’t really know why Solus made fireplaces but I think it acts as a sort of novelty really.” she lulled, taking a seat across from him. She folded her hands and then asked, ”Tell me about them, these daughters of yours! What are they like? Where are they now?”

“Oh you would love Soleira! She quite like your blond-haired winged companions that roam around here. Though she has two pairs of wings.” Qael said, looking rather impressed are her luminous magical abilities. Even though Lucia was right and the room was already comfortable, the god of magic felt the body enjoying the increased heat. Out of habit, it stretched out its arms towards the fire. Letting the digits warm up as well. “She’s back in the Luminant, that colorful realm your mother made. You’d like her, much like you she’s resisting becoming a queen of the land. The human folks adore her, as do the animals. Thanks to your mother she can talk to them. It’s been quite a boon. She’s lacking when it comes to magic, but her heart is on the right place.” When he spoke he was beaming with pride. But then he got a little downcast. “I hope she can fulfill her destiny and heal that place. The Luminant War has scarred more than the land. The Oraeliari and Neiyari are suffering. And I don’t know if she is strong enough yet for the task.” His voice betrayed an almost uncharacteristic worry. In truth Qael’Naath didn’t care for Oraelia and Neiya’s petty squabble but it was weighing upon an untested and untrained Soleira. Alas, should the worst come to pass, he would intervene again but he wanted her to succeed.

”She sounds lovely, Qael.” Lucia said, smiling a bit. ”I’ve never been to the Luminant, but from what these Oraeliari told me, the war was basically over when they left to come here. Rhiona, my mother’s newest avatar, she takes things very seriously… I’m confident Soleira will be able to endure and if not, she has my mother and you.” Lucia said with confidence. ”Okay so how about Aurielle, was it?” she said, ”What’s she like?”

“She…” Qael paused for a second. Visibly searching for the right words. “Magic becomes her. In the past few years she has grown very, very powerful. Unleashing sorcery I had not thought possible yet. Magic that no normal mortal could unleash.” Once again he beamed with pride that vanished. Not so much out of worry but something else. “You would hate her.” He finally confessed. “She’s destructive. Hateful. Arrogant. It was her who broke the walls of Ketrefa and sacked the city of Teperia. Rhiona herself came down to Galbar to curse her.” For a moment the god of magic wondered if it was a tragic tale yet. Despite the horrible things she had done, Qael did not speak of her with any pain or malice. He was simply stating the facts. “But she’s no longer around. So you’ll have nothing to fear.”

Lucia's lips turned into a thin frown. "I'm sorry to hear that. I had no idea what was going on over that way. It seems there's a war everywhere." Lucia sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose. Then she said, "But despite everything she's done, you love her still. Don't you?"

“Not despite.” He admitted. He wasn’t sure which had come first. His idea of her becoming a destroyer or her own thirst for power turning her destructive. Maybe the ruining spirit came with the inkling of power she was given. Or maybe it was there since birth. Those were questions for much later though. For now though, he needed her to be a destroyer. A weapon, even though she was his daughter as well. And for now she seemed to keep choosing that path on her own as well. None of that he could admit to Lucia. She was very much the daughter of Oraelia.

Instead he tried to switch the subject a little. “The return of me and my siblings have brought many changes. For better or worse.” Without the supernatural senses, he could only see fire and the walls around him. If the human body he ‘wore’ right now had any divine senses though, he knew bright light would lit up all around him. “So how will you do it?” he then asked as he turned towards Lucia. “Peace here, in Ha-Dûna? And what will you do after?”

Lucia shrugged, eyeing Qael. "Gather leaders, chiefs, elders. Bring them together and talk instead of fighting. Who knows how long it might take but I have Sanya with me and my mother. After that… I'm not sure. Perhaps gather our things and live out the rest of our days in my mother's realm. It was so peaceful there." she lulled.

The god of magic was not convinced peace in the area could be achieved so quickly. At least not a lasting one. Resources were scarce and some wounds ran deeper than most knew. It would take a generation at least. Yet he kept mute on the subject. It wasn’t his place to offer up the opinion. “You really want to live away from Galbar for the rest of your life?” He asked with a meek smile as he watched the fire. No longer warming his fingers by the fire but actively making the flames dance atop the wood. “This world will miss you… And if it could speak you’d hear it call for you.”

”I can still hear it…” Lucia whispered, looking down at the table in front of them. ”Like faint echoes and calming whispers. Sanya and I… We are tired of fighting. All we want is peace and we found that in my Mother’s realm. We’ve been here for so long… Now it’s time for a change.” she said almost in a whisper.

“Maybe you’re right.” Qael said as he turned to peer into the flames again. Lucia was after all a mortal, as was her mate. They had lived for two thousand years. Each no doubt doing their best to keep the world at peace. What more could the divine ask of them? Still, he knew they were needed in this world now more than ever. A faint, melancholic smile appeared on his lips. But then his mind trailed towards what he had seen in Antiquity and the horrid things unleashed at the Luminant. “I hope your mother’s realm remains as safe and peaceful as you desire it to be.” He rose up again and with it his somber appearance vanished.

”So do we.” Lucia answered.

Then in the palm of Qael’s hand a white owl statuette appeared. It was small and seemingly insignificant. “This world, and us the divine, have asked many things of you already, Lucia. I hope we won’t have to ask much more.” But fate was a fickle thing. He took a step towards her. “In an effort to return faster, I offer you this. Present it to the Cenél. They will follow your every word then. I promise you that.” He put the statuette upon the table. “And now… I think I should be heading out.” He looked around for a second. “You wouldn’t happen to know the way to Mydia.”

Lucia eyed the small owl and then picked it up, rubbing her fingers over it. She then turned to Qael and shook her head. ”I’m afraid not. I’ve never been off this land, that which is out there is unknown to me.” Lucia paused, then set the statuette back down. She then went and hugged Qael. ”Thank you. I will remember this and the Cenél.”

He hugged her back, the body closed its eyes as a reaction. It felt good. That in of itself was also a strange feeling. When they eventually broke apart again he took a step back, and brushed a strand of hair behind the back of her ear. “I’ll be seeing you, Lucia.” He said, after which he took another step back, and then turn around to walk out. He was still moving awkward. Getting used to having only one pair of knees and lifting his knees. But as he touched the handle to open the door he stopped and said: “When you hear of her… tell your mother I’m grateful for what she did for my Auriëlle. She’ll know what that means.” And then he left.

Lucia pondered those words for a time, then went to go find Sanya.

Summary

A stranger approaches Caisteal Na Grèine. He seeks entry to visit an old friend, the daughter of the sun. They fetch her but Lucia doesn’t recognize the stranger. That is, until he performs the same magic trick he showed her when they met. Lucia, realizing who it is, returned the gesture. The both of them enter the castle. They talk a little about Orb and where he is now.

Then the subject shifts to Qael having two daughters. He tells Lucia about Soleira first, saying they’re quite alike in denying their inherent status as queens. Soleira’s back in the Luminant still, trying to carve out a spot of peace in the colorful realm. Lucia then tells Qael about how Rhiona send her here with the Oraeliari to establish peace and then asks about Auriëlle.

The god of magic admits that she’s the polar opposite. Violent and malicious. Lucia is sorry to hear that but in truth Qael is very proud of her, but quickly switches subject to peace in Ha-Dûna. He asks how she would do it. Lucia plans to gather all the leaders and elders and talk it out. After which she wants to leave Galbar again and live in her mother’s realm.

Qael for his part, is sad to hear that she desires to live away from Galbar and says the world is calling out for her. Something Lucia maybe understands better than the god of magic, even though he doesn’t know that. In the end though, he understands and thanks her for everything she has done for divinity. In an effort to achieve peace faster, he offers her a statuette of a white owl to give the Cenél. When she gives it to the Cenél, they will follow her every word for sure. With that, he leaves. But not before telling her to thank her mother for what she did for Auriëlle.

MP & DP

Qael’Naath Start: 4MP/5DP
- 1MP >> Give some random bloke the “Divine Conduit I” Title. Making him the “Conduit” ‘hero’.
- 2MP >> Create the White Owl Statuette with title: “Alien Visions II”.
Qael’Naath End: 1MP/5DP

Prestige

Post Length: +10K Characters
+ 5 Prestige >> The Conduit
+ 5 Prestige >> Lucia

Divinus: The God RP, Mk. IV

Esiré was holding the Oaken Branch to a still crying Auriëlle. The war was still raging, but the magic of the sorceress had been stilled. “It’s not working.” Esiré said, her lip quivering in panic. How could it not be working!? The branch had to be broken. Something was wrong with it. It always healed the Prophetess and anyone else! She needed certainty. Auriëlle needed the same certainty. With the blade of her dagger, she cut her hand open, not caring about the wretched pain that shot through her, and then rested the gnarled end of the oaken branch to it. The wound healed instantly, but Esiré’s heart stopped. The blindness could not be cured. “Prophetess.” She said with a shaky, trailing voice. What could she possibly say?

And then, in a flash of chromatic light, Auriëlle was gone. Nothing left behind of her. Esiré’s eyes turned wide as she fell to her knees, patting around on the ground. The assault was already failing at the breach. People were retreating. She couldn’t. “Prophetess!” She cried out, but others of the Cult noticed the sudden disappearance. Some had broken from the front lines, survivors of that terrible battle up close.

“Esiré!” One said as he came close, pulling her away right before an arrow dug itself into the earth right where she had been standing. “Priestess we have to go.” He said again, but Esiré was kicking and screaming. The Prophetess was gone and blind! How could she leave her like that!? “We have to leave! We have to live.” Esiré knew the words to be true but didn’t want to accept them. In the end they had to drag her away back into the forest.

---

At one moment the noise of battle and carnage had been all around Auriëlle. There was still the distant heat of fire and the sound of arrows digging themselves in the earth. That all just vanished. Replaced by the gentle chirping of birds and a cool breeze giving the occasional break from a warm sun on her skin. Where once she smelled smoke and battle, she now smelled grass and the scent of flowers - she assumed - that she had never smelled before. It felt like a soft and pleasant place. Except Auriëlle was utterly terrified. The only glint of light in her life right then, the guiding voice of her friend Esiré was gone. She was in an utterly strange place and no way of knowing where she actually was. With trembling knees, she rose up slowly. With shaking arms she reached around her, trying to find something touch.

“I was told you were going to come.”

The sorceress unleashed a bolt of lightning in a split second from where she heard that noise. She could hear its impact and smiled a little. She wasn’t yet beaten. All she had to do was find where she was and how to get back to the Esiré and Carn. Slowly, carefully, she took a step. Then another. Then another. And then she tripped over a rock couldn’t know was there. On the ground she turned around on the ground, carefully feeling where the stone was until she had it in one of her hands. A second later it was nothing but sand.

“Impressive.”

Again she unleashed a bolt of lightning towards where she heard the voice. Again she heard it impact, but this time she wasn’t so sure she had defeated that which was clearly watching her. She tried to listen. To hear the footsteps or maybe feel his movement on the wind. Maybe she could smell him? Her senses let her down though. She had to see him. So she willed the light into her eyes. Trying to break whatever curse was laid upon her. Trying to force her to see! For a split second, she felt a burst of heat on her face. Like she had been in the midsummer sun too long. It vanished again, but she still only saw black.

“I don’t think that will work.”

Again she unleashed a bolt, but this time she never heard it hit anything. In her other hand, she prepared fire. Whatever was toying with her, they were going to rue the day they chose Auriëlle as their little plaything. She would make them suffer. Make them bleed from within. But nothing happened. There was no counter-attack. No humiliating laughter. Nothing at all but the soft breeze. Auriëlle tried to move around again. More careful now. She felt grass underneath her feet.

“You’re learning.”

She didn’t release the fire she held in her palm but she did aim her arm at the source of the sound which seemed to move soundlessly around her. “Where am I?” she commanded.

“Far away from anywhere you know.”

“That’s not an answer.” She snapped back. “Tell me where I am or I will burn you where you stand.” But as she said it, she felt the imbalance in her stance. Slowly, awkwardly, she moved her foot. Trying to stand more centered.

“No, you won’t.”

The voice came from a completely different direction. The sorceress turned to face it. Then moved slowly backward. Trying to be mindful where she’d put her feet. The fire in her hand almost begged to be unleashed. “Tell me where I am or I will burn you and everything around me!” She yelled as she summoned another flame in her other palm.

“You could try.”

Another direction again. She turned, jumping backward. Wanting to keep her distance. She tripped. As she fell, she unleashed her fury. She felt the heat of the fires she summoned on her skin. The smell of burned plants hit her nose, replacing the fragrant scent of flowers. It wasn’t enough. She reached out with her magic to any of the stones nearby, not caring where they were, and threw them around. Certain she’d hit something. Anything! The wind was whipped into a frenzy around her as flames and fire lashed out everywhere around her. She moved around, tripping and falling many times over her own wrecked environment which couldn’t let her stand balanced, but getting up every time. She raged like that for what felt like hours. Ruining everything around her. Not caring what it was. And then she collapsed. The fires of rage faded. Replaced by pain and sorrow as she laid on the ground. Sobbing. She was blind! How could she continue on? Whatever toyed with her, whatever had been taunting her, it had won.

She waited for the end. To be killed. Nothing changed but the warmth of the sun overhead. It turned soft and almost pleasant. With nothing to do but to die she only now realized how good it felt. Maybe it was fitting. That she would die far away from any home she had known. Acadia was a terrible place in her opinion, but she still had her family there. Would they ever accept her back? Probably not. Then there was Nalla. Gods she hoped Tekret wouldn’t punish her for breaking her promise. She wanted to go back to Nallan. She really did. It was easy there. Comfortable, safe. The queen had her weird mind manipulation for sure, but she still let the sorceress do what she wanted. In perhaps her own weird way she cared for her. Then her mind wandered to Esiré. Loyal Esiré. The girl must be freaking out right now. Her and the others of her strange cult. It was only now, in a moment of forced serenity, that she realized how much they all looked up to her. And then there was Carn. Would she ever see his face again? Taste his lips on hers?

There was nothing left to do. What could be broken laid broken. What could burn had burned. It never mattered. A tear fled from the corner of her eye, running quickly down the side and falling off. She tried to calm herself. Breath slowly in and out. It didn’t really help.

“Finally at peace?”

Pouring all her hatred into it, she launched everything at the source of the voice. Rocks, plants, ash, fire, lighting, the blood seeping from her scraps. Everything! She could hear the wave crush everything in its path. It wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough. The fires flared in her chest as she cast one more spell. Total annihilation made manifest. It would reduce everything that could burn to ash, and all that couldn’t to flash-molten slag. She knew this as she knew how to breathe. It was a certainty. Whatever had been taunting her had to be dead.

“Your father warned me about that.”

The voice came from behind her before she could react a roaring gust of wind she never heard coming knocked over. Throwing her back down again. Where the ground silently seemed to consume her. Stone and sand wrapped around her. She screamed for her life. With a touch, she rendered the stone that gripped her to sand. Only for new rock to rise from under it. It bought her time though. She jumped up. Wind aiding her. Yet she had no idea where to go. For a second she felt weightless. Afloat in the air. Before she felt the fall in her gut. With a heavy thud, she dropped down again. The punishment her body was taking became too much.

“It’s… better if you stay down now.”

The voice sounded almost concerned. Auriëlle didn’t care. “I won’t… die with my face in the mud.” Her voice was as strained as every muscle in her body. Still, she got up. As fast as she could, which was still slow. She reached out again and unleashed flame. Even from the heat, she felt how small it had to have been. Her arm fell down beside her body. It felt as if acid coursed through her legs. Her breathing was ragged.

“Sit down. Rest. It is over.”

“No!” She yelled at it. Casting out her hand again, fighting as much against her own body as she was fighting the stranger. Scorching heat exploded from her hand. Heat radiated across her hand, and then the pain came. Not the dull, aching, insistent pain of fatigue but a stinging, burning one. Something hot and wet ran along her hand. The rush of fire was the last though. Her mind fogged. Turned black. She tried to remain awake. Alive. She couldn’t. The last of her power expended, she fell on her knees and then on her side.

She woke up.

The warmth on her skin was softer now. It had to have been later in the day. Slowly she tried to get up. Something was wrapped around her hand. She could feel it. Then the stiff pain coursed through her, forcing her to lay down again. With nothing else to do, she did just that.

Time passed. She couldn’t know how much. Five minutes? An hour? Two hours? Never in her life had she realized how much she depended on her eyes to know the time of day.

“I see you’ve finally calmed down.”

The voice was close now. Very close. “Are you here to kill me?” She asked, not masking her complete resignation to powerlessness. It was like the tales they told everywhere around. The higher you climb, the lower you’ll fall.

“Me? Kill you? Gods no. Why would I kill my own ward? Others might though, for destroying the moss-stone garden.”

Was that a joke? Well, that was one clue of where she was. The moss-stone garden. Though she had never met anyone who kept a garden of mossy stones. She sat upright again. For a while she was quiet, and it would appear the other… thing either left or remained quiet as well. She could almost hear the sound of the wind now. Blowing through the gaps and around the jagged stone she’d made.

“Stand up dear.”

She did as the thing said. Its voice was distinctly unhuman. But she could decide if it was perhaps troll or something else. A hand took her non-burned arm, gently. Though she’d swore she counted only four fingers on her. Slowly whatever it was led her somewhere. Telling her when to mind the cracked and the broken ground around her. Eventually, she felt soft - assumingly green grass - under her feet again but they kept walking. Slowly, though with every step Auriëlle gained a bit more confidence. Until he bid her to stop again.

“Can you feel the tree before you?”

She reached out with her hand. No, she couldn’t. Maybe it was further away? But the entity beside her kept a gentle but firm grasp on her shoulder. She wasn’t supposed to move. Maybe if she reached out with her magic? She tried it and… nothing happened. Again and again, she tried to reach out with magic but it felt as if something sensory did come back, it was chaotic and impossible. “I feel it.”

“You’re a terrible liar.”

She felt insulted. Years of habit made her face him. Only for her to realize that facing someone now meant nothing. She couldn’t see their face, she couldn’t see whether it was joking or stern. She just… couldn’t see. Yet she heard the wind rustle, a sharp crack, and something came flying for her. She ducked, but the sound passed her by about six feet she guessed.

“Careful. This will help.”

She felt something wooden be laid in her hand. With both hands, she tried to grab it. It was thin and rough. The bark was still on it. She tried to bend it, see if it would break, but to her own surprise, it was pretty strong but bendable. It was, by now obviously, a stick. “What do you want me to do with this?” Auriëlle asked.

“Touch around!”

The strange creature seemed strangely excited but the sorceress did as he bid. She poked down in front of her until it touched something. She tried to grasp some details. Maybe pressure or something like that. It didn’t really work. She just knew there was something, presumably dirt or grass, in front of her. At least she could feel ahead of her now.

“Come, come. Let’s head inside. You must be famished and someone must tend to those cuts and bruises.”

Once more she was taken by the harm and gently guided away. With the stick, she kept poking forward. Trying to know where to go and where there were things in the way. It worked, if only a little. But it made her a little more confident about walking. Then suddenly she felt the ground underneath her harden. Soft grass was replaced with sun-soaked, flat stone. A road or path, but one she hadn’t seen before. No place in the highlands was so extravagant that they could use flat-cut stone just for a path. “You still haven’t told me where I am.” She eventually said. The creature seemed to remain quiet for a little while.

“You’re in the Omniversity now, dear.”

Summary

Esiré, tries to heal Auriëlle with the Oaken Branch with little success. She even tests it on her own to see if it isn’t broken. Meanwhile the assault at the breach is starting to falter. Then suddenly the Prophetess vanishes. Leaving a desperate Esiré who has to be dragged away from the battlefield.

To Auriëlle, the chaos of war is replaced by soft grass and the smell of flowers. Slowly she gets up. Only be taunted by someone, though she can only pinpoint the voice. Several times she tries to kill her supposed taunter with lightning. Failing every time as she can’t seem to find her target. Eventually she unleashes her rage.

After feeling burned and spend, the stranger seemed to have returned and helps her up. They take a stroll through what Auriëlle learned to be a garden. The stranger gives her a stick to help her feel where to go as both of them head inside to find some food. Upon which Auriëlle learns she’s in the Omniversity now.

Prestige

Post Length: +10K Characters
+5 Prestige >> Auriëlle
+5 Prestige >> Cult of the Destroyer
+5 Prestige >> The Magic Headmaster

MP & DP

Qael'Naath Start: 5MP/5DP
-1 MP >> Teleport Auriëlle to the Omniversity
Qael'Naath End: 4MP/5DP

Divinus: The God RP, Mk. IV

Fifteen pairs of sapphire eyes peered from a nearby, rocky hill towards the purple forest. The first to be sent out by Enura. None of them were happy to be sent out to such an accursed place. Each came with their own slave as well, who were right now setting up the tents and preparing a meal. Tall, three-legged tables holding a bowl with sand were already prepared for the mystics adept in glyphs. Ready to start probing the forest with magics from afar.

“I don’t like this.” Innurta, a large fellow said as he looked out towards the forest with crossed arms. The inky signs on his skin marked him as one of the Queen’s chosen few. A vanguard of magic. Innurta had fought many golems and demon-flowers down in the Labyrinth. Just as he has hauled a great many riches up. Furthermore, he had three of the wisp-spells under his command. Each he had etched on his skin as a mark of pride. “Something’s off.”

“It seems rather unresponsive to magic.” His apprentice, a younger girl named Isseha said. Many would describe Innurta’s eyes as icy, while Isseha’s were bright and beautiful. The girl just hadn’t seen a man splattered across the walls yet. She looked rather disinterested at the woods. They were, after all, just woods.

“It can seemingly mislead. Don’t underestimate the wrath of the gods.” Strange things were happening. The shadowy creature from the Labyrinth had put the veterans on edge. “Send three slaves into the woods. To check it out. Tell them not to go too deep.”

As commanded, three slaves were given sticks to prod things with and send towards the woods. The glyph-mystics were at the ready in case of a runner, but most of Anghebad’s slaves knew that running was futile. At best you were free in an unforgiving and hot world. At worst you were caught made an example of. Still, none of them wanted to head into a wood one of their own had warned them about. For a moment it was a fight between heeding the crazed woman’s words and following their masters’ orders. The threat of imminent, painful punishment won out. The three walked towards the forest’s edge, poking a few plants. Nothing happened. They went in deeper, trying to stay within sight of the Mystics. After an hour of nothing but prodding and poking, they came back. Claiming – much to their own surprise – that it was safe.

Innurta didn’t want to believe it though. Taking his apprentice he went for the woods. Careful to stay at its edge. At first the slave seemed to have been right, until Isseha began to summon fire and unleash it at a nearby shrub. It lit up, but the tree nearby cracked, groaned and its branch reached out. Slapping the apprentice and sending her flying.

“Isseha!” Her master ran over to her. When she landed the wind was literally knocked out of her lungs. No bones were seemingly broken, luckily. But there was a large, gaping wound. The fire burned out, barely harming the shrub. Meanwhile the branch moved back to its original position.

Five minutes later a slave was branded for his failure. Even though Innurta knew it probably wasn’t his fault. The laws had to be followed. Failure had to be punished. Especially failure that resulted in the endangerment of a citizen of Anghebad. Hamurai was very clear on that point. That night though, Innurta removed himself from the rest around the campfire. Heading away from the fire light until there was only the half-moon’s pale light. With eyes still towards the purple forest he pulled several figures from his bag. Each carved from wood. Their quality was lacking, compared with some of the more artisanal craftsmages of Anghebad. Still, they were carved in the shape of the gods of Anghebad. The sun and the moon, the mystical god of magic and even the Night Cat each had an image. When they were placed in a half-circle around him, Innurta kneeled down with his eyes closed.

“Blessed gods. I thank you for the food you’ve given us today. I thank you for the drink that has lessened our thirst. I thank you for watching over Isseha.” He continued on giving praise and thanks for his wife, his children, his queen, his powers. He thanked the gods for everything. And when he was done, he opened his eyes again. With his prayer over, he peered towards the purple wood. He wondered what made it. Fasthus had played dangerous games with that tree of his, but then again the Mystics were playing dangerous games every day. In fact, it felt as if Enura liked it that way. Two of the demon-lilies are floating in her own garden back in Anghebad. Ever since they were pulled out the Labyrinth they hadn’t bloomed, but still. Again he pushed his palms flat against each other and said: “Dear gods… I know I shouldn’t ask for knowledge-“ It was a tenet of Orb himself. “But why… why make this? To punish us? For what? Have we not praised your names.” Even as he spoke the words, he felt arrogant for even asking.

From behind him, he had an incessant meowing. While giving his praise, he noticed that the carving of the night cat had vanished. “What…” A confused, and slightly frightened Innurtha said as he reached and picked up the now normal piece of wood. With his hands he ran over it, trying to see if there was a trace of his hard work. Nothing, there wasn’t a groove left on it. Slowly he got up to see if anyone was around him. And as he turned around he locked eyes with a black cat.

As he stared at it, it began to casually walk towards him, brushing against his leg. The sensation was cold and alien, it most certainly did not feel like any kind of fur. He took a step back away from the creature as he felt the coldness from it.

The entity quickly lurched behind, and he suddenly felt a gust of frigid wind go down his neck. As he turned around the cat was looming over him. Innurtha jumped backwards, as he touched one of the marks on his arm and snapped the fingers on that arm towards the creature. Wind began to swirl horizontally in front of him, creating a sort of tube of whipped up sand that grew smaller and smaller until the tube of wind contracted completely. Sending out a small beam of sand forward towards the giant cat.

The sand launched towards the cat, and seemed to just vanish into the darkness of its fur. It began to speak in a monotone whisper, “I merely came to answer your question.”

The cat talked. Cats don’t talk. The Mystic’s body was trembling as he fell back with his back to the ground. His arm still outstretched towards the creature. It was the battle-fear. Had to be. Had to be.

The mystic's sight suddenly left him as he was cast into sheer darkness, until specks of lights began to appear in every direction around him, including ones which rested where moments ago it would have been beneath the ground, casting most of the area to light by twilight except a massive tower of the original darkness remained.

The shadow began to quickly shift until it immediately in front of the mystic, taking the vague outline of a cat’s face. It didn’t appear to have a mouth, but meaning emanated from it, “Did you not have a question for me?”

Realization dawned upon Innurtha’s face. At first his eyes went wide, before he fell down upon his knees. “Oh Night Cat.” He spoke as if it was a prayer, averting his eyes from the divine projection. “I-I I didn’t mean to…” He wasn’t sure if the God was here to punish or answer his question. In the stories the Night Cat was often indifferent. It hid away secrets, good or bad. The myths rarely spoke of him though. “I beg forgiveness for my arrogance. I should not have called upon you.”

The god image was static, but it replied, “Your prayer is not the reason I take offense to your arrogance.”

The mystic turned pale. The gods were angry. His heart was beating in his throat. But he remained quiet. Not daring to speak and step out of line.

It continued, “The only thing that the people of Angebad shall find within the woods is a lesson, that no matter however powerful you believe you are, there is also someone to whom you are a speck of dust in a great, empty void, and a cure if someone needs to learn this lesson through losing something important to them. Is there anything unclear about this?”

“N-No.” The Mystic stammered. “I have understood perfectly.”

The voice continued, “And as I am to understand it, you are hosting one of my faithful in your halls. I suggest you grant her a generous farewell once her task is done, or I might need to make secret the light of which I govern.”

And when he was finished, the mystic's eyes opened.

Summary

Innurtha, his apprentice Isseha and thirtheen other Mystics travel to the accursed woods a the command of the queen. They setup camp on a nearby hill and then send out the slaves to probe the forest. Because the slaves were forced to hurt or harm it, the forest did not retaliate. But when the mystics themselves approached it, a branch attacked the apprentice. Throwing her far away. She survives with some bruises, and the forest is deemed dangerous by the mystics.

The failure of the slaves is punished. Innurtha recognizes that it might not all be their fault, but nonetheless doesn’t intervene. He’s a pious man though, and at night goes away from the camp to pray in front of several statuettes he brings with him. He prays and then hears something behind him. The carvings of the Black Cat, Anghebad’s deity of the Night and Secrets, is gone. Leaving only a lump of wood. Instead a black cat appears behind him. The creature reveals itself as the actual deity.

A shocked Innurtha struggles back, launching spells at the cat. It does nothing. Instead it answers the questions the Mystic asked. Anghebad, no matter how arrogant it believes itself, is still just a speck of dust in the eyes of a god. They will release the Augur with them peacefully. Then he vanishes again.

MP & DP

None expended

Prestige

Post Length: 8.4K Characters
+4 Prestige >> Mystics

𝑫𝒆𝒔𝒄𝒆𝒏𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏 {A God RP}

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ɢ ᴜ ᴀ ʀ ᴅ ᴇ ᴅ

_{The Gala}

Tlaz & Ares

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The air high up was significantly colder than Ares had expected. He had been pacing across the roof, hidden from everyone below. Through the skylights he could see the classical gala proceed. Women were dressed in the most expensive dresses. This wasn’t some party where that meant extravagance. Many were part of high-society for their entire lives. Which meant they knew how to show their wealth through details. Uncertainty screamed, confidence whispered. High ranking men of all sectors were shaking hands and trading golf stories while holding their preferred drink. For half of them that meant a true, Scottish whiskey. From high above Ares had observed how they battled. These days the daggers and swords were replaced by veiled threats and humiliating knowledge. You could quickly see who was subservient to whom. A clap on the shoulder, a roaring laugh, a downcast smile. Social hierarchy established itself with every word spoken.

On the other edge was the entrance with the flown in paparazzi who didn’t want to miss this party. Who would walk up with what dress? Who would walk up with what woman? Are they dating? Are pregnant? Who has a bit of white powder sticking on their moustache? Jupiter’s security was capable enough to keep them away from any damning stories. Though they hadn’t been skilled enough to keep Ares out. Ares, who had been pacing on the roof for the better part of an hour. Looking at his phone and the countless calls he had ignored in the past two weeks. For two weeks he had been adamant that he couldn’t talk to her until he knew what words to speak. Then he had to tell her face-to-face. No matter how adamant he felt, he couldn’t help but feel doubt set in. Was he causing more pain than holding off by waiting so long? In hindsight… yes. Resigning himself to that guilt he realized his time was up. It was genuinely now or never again. And to an immortal god, never was just too long.

“The moon is beautifully bright tonight.” He typed on his phone. “You’ll have the best view from the gardens.” He was already going down the stairs when he pressed send. At the same time, several of his best dressed goons were ready to peacefully intercept anyone from going into the gardens. Anyone but Tlaz.

In the time that Hathor had spent away from her in search of another round of drinks, Laz had gracefully peeled herself from the dance floor towards a bar table before leaning against the sturdy material and taking a short breather. The two sun kissed goddesses were some of the few and only attendees to have found themselves dancing to the classical and occasional swing-esque numbers. Sin was taking place all around her and it took everything in her to not leer over the shoulders of mortals and prey upon their vices. Instead, she opted to gaze after them, enjoying seeing them toil around one another, hiding things from the likes of their "friends". It sent a shiver up her spine, one she felt pleased with.

A silent buzz emanating from her clutch that sat on the table pulled her attention away from the chatty humans and to dig in the accessory in search of the culprit. A simple text attached to a name she hadn't seen cross her phone in well over two weeks had her willing Hath to arrive sooner and with a heavy handed drink. Or two. Nevertheless, caramelized honey scanned the plethora of faces surrounding her in an instant, searching for the owner to the message. Scouring his location and wondering as to why now of all times has he decided to reach out to her. Annoyance and indignation coursed through her at the message and it didn't abate anytime soon, taking her leave from the high table and gliding through the mass of bodies chatting it up like old friends. A dark humorous chuckle escaped her, _{'Old friends with fucked up relationships...'}

It didn't take her long to spot the well suited guards patrolling the party, sticking to the walls and conversing in subtly. Types of men who, with no fault of their own, would not be on Jupiter's payroll. Not hitting the kinds of standards fit for the Roman king. So she's heard. The Spartans had always been part of the frequent fliers that visited the club when Ares, or the rare, occasional blessing of Hades, popped in for business. One in particular gestures for the Aztec to follow him, pulling her from her from previous memories, his head craning to the french double doors leading out and into the well manicured gardens of the establishment. A roll of her eyes and she was pushing past him without so much as a glance in his direction.

The moon hung low, still on it's ascent for the evening, foretelling of a very eventful night indeed. Especially if this is where Laz was finding herself so early on. Chilled air caressed at the exposed skin her dress saw fit to leave bare, nipping like teeth at her. But she was impervious to the bite, instead that annoyance quickly soured into a fiery rage as the silhouette of a man, a very familiar man, made himself known to her sight. "Ares—" her voice caught in her throat and there was a moment where the thought crossed that he didn't hear her, but she knew him better than that. He would have picked it up, somehow, some way. But he would have heard. And he would have been able to feel the fury of the words as she spat his name out like poison.

With one step he came out of the shadows. It was just them, alone and his heart whined. The way she spoke his name, it was sharp. Like a bullet meant to hurt him. That was understandable, after everything he did to her. In truth he was still expecting a slap or even a fist to the jaw. He’d deserve that too. “Tlaz, you look… beautiful tonight.” He spoke slowly, his mind for once going over every word and carefully choosing the right one. That was how it should be now, careful and cautious. Even if his heart was telling him to just shut up and kiss her again. But that would be unjust. A slight smile formed on the corner of his lips. A departure from his elsewise confident smirk.

“I’m sorry for what I did to you that night.” He started, fighting off the shame and desire to just look away. Running was coming up far too often in his mind now. He fought that too. The least he could do was look one of his best friends in the eyes when he apologized. “I shouldn’t have kissed you. But I had to see if Aphrodite’s mist was true. It wasn’t Julie who I saw then.” There were still small wounds on his face from his fight with Hathor. Wounds that refused to heal at the rate they should. A reminder of the truth, even if he disliked it. “I finished things off with her twelve days ago. Because what I did to her…” Even though he had trained the words for days, his mind kept turning blank. Again and again. “It was wrong, what I did.”

For a second he paused. The words he had to say now hadn’t fled him yet, but he right now he wasn’t so sure if he could say them. Life would be easier for him if he just shut up. But that’s what a coward would do. “But I did see you in that pink fog. I saw you and I knew it was true the second I touched your lips.” The memory alone made his heart rage in his chest. Like an addict it demanded more. He bit his lip, fighting every emotion that was going through him now as he still kept his distance.

Distance meant nothing to Filth as she easily narrowed the spacious gap between his words. a Well manicured hand rose and made contact with the side of his face that held the most amount of scrapes and bruises. The most physical pain she could bestow on him in this moment brought her a sense of comfort, but tugged at her chest in a way that said otherwise. Laz had to force that down and away, her form physically shaking with an enmity she thought was past.

"You don't get to disappear on me because you felt like it. We're supposed to have been friends, Ares," surprisingly her voice was level, albeit on the brink of cracking, clearly holding herself back. "All this time, and not once did you mention you were spoken for? And then the other night?" A hallowed shell of a laugh escaped her but that was all she allowed for that incident, wiping at her lips with the back of a shaky hand. "You think some fucking half constructed idea was going to make it better? How can I trust you anymore? What's true and what isn't?"

Relenting was something she wasn't prone to do unless the bedroom called for it. This was no bed chamber and he was no lover of hers. The onslaught of jabs, slaps and just general beatings she threw at him landing on arms, shoulders, face, were dwindling in steam as she stood there spitting questions and statements at him that have plagued her for the last two weeks. "If it was a moment of weakness that's fine. I could live with that. Even we aren't above that, especially after the witch's meddling," her thoughts traveled to Aphrodite's hand in this whole experience. If not for her and her trying to "help" the Aztec and Greek wouldn't have been placed in this predicament. "But then to just leave… Really? Never the one to back down from an issue, so why the fuck with me? Why me? What wrongs have I done you?!" She rested her fists upon his chest and just diverted her eyes from him.

He could take the slaps and jabs. Hell, he could take that much better than her words. The hollow laugh tore through him like no sword ever could. Each word was worse than a bullet ripping through him, and Ares had many pieces of lead shot at him. Truth was that she was right. On almost all counts. They were best friends and he kept his secrets from her. He kept Julie from her, even though he would’ve introduced them to each other in due time. But it wasn’t the intent that counted, it were his actions right now he had been lacking to say the least. But there was one thing, one thing that worked like a bellow to his flame. He didn’t just disappear because he felt like it. When she said that, a glint of flame appeared in his eyes. His jaw remained clenched shut as he felt the muscles in his neck tightened. He didn’t just vanish because he felt like it. His heart begged him to roar back, but he fought it. Tonight was not a night for fire.

“I’m trying…” He said, his voice strained. Words failed him again. Inside he fought his fire. His body begged to just grab her and push her against the wall so she would listen. But her onslaught of questions continued. Why her? Why with her? He wasn’t prepared for that. It build up pressure inside of him. Why? Why? Why? “Because when I kissed you I knew I loved you!” He finally roared as he grabbed her by the arms to make her stop hitting him. The breath was knocked from her chest in the same moment the words rolled off his tongue. Love. How foreign a word and concept. An emotion she thought she felt so deeply for others, was a feeling that never was reciprocated on their end. _{'A beautiful lie,'} she thought as memories danced before her of a silver haired healer left in a town because words on her part were left unspoken. Shaking the painful memories of the past away, her bite was back as the fire in her eyes rivaled his own, "Love isn't something you push away from though…" How hypocritical.

“And I had to leave you…” In an instant the flame was covered up again, though his entire body trembled. She scoffed, arms still trapped in his ironclad grip, refusing to release her, trying to make her listen. However, she didn't fight to get away. Succumbing to the position they were in. “I left before I made things worse. Tlaz… that night... after the kiss. There were no right choices. I failed that night. I don’t… want to fail again.” That’s why he broke it off with Julie. That’s why he was now here after that, confessing everything instead of following what his heart wanted. There were no easy paths to follow. Nothing to be beat up or that should beat him up. “I waited because I had to be sure of what I was going to say. I waited so I wouldn’t make things a hundred times worse. I waited because I don’t want to force what I felt on you again.”

"Nothing would have been forced had you just reached out to me; talked to me." Her voice broke, barely above a whisper, and the words caught up in the small breeze that picked up around them. Though she felt not the cool, biting wind, too wrapped up in the fury and ire of the two of them standing chest to chest. Blood pumping through their veins at an insane speed, it was clear their emotions ran hot, passionate, for the subject of debate. Laz could feel him shutter and shake beneath her. She wanted so much to fall into him and wrap herself in his presence, his warmth. But she couldn't. Not fully and not with the hurt still evident within her.

It may have been his words, or the timing or the place, but it didn't feel right. Didn't feel whole. She didn't feel right and it was driving her mad. Because this is what she ultimately wanted right? Rolling her tongue between her painted lips and pearly whites she couldn't help but sigh. This was not how she foresaw the evening going. "I had resigned myself to fucking you, the brilliant ideas of others. To get you out of my system as it were, since we hadn't seen or spoken to one another in some time and you quite literally pushed me away." A small smile at her attempt at humor in this situation was laughable on it's own.

Ignoring his heated stare she continued on, "Thoughts of you, and I, have plagued my mind every night since. Us tangled with one another, a life together, even one not permanent. And-and it isn't fair to me. I thought you wouldn't be here. Too busy with your put together life with your mortal... so sure was I that it meant nothing to you, that I meant nothing to you. How easy I was cast aside." Topaz gems peered through long lashes up into his face, her righteous fury bubbling softly beneath the sultry facade she carefully crafted and wore on display.

Ares’ heart hardened in his chest when she told him she wanted to fuck him out of her. It was as if ice crawled over it, pulling it away and trying to protect it. The feeling worsened when she told him what she thought all those days. His life, in the last two weeks, was far from the well-put together one he lived before. His world had been crumbling. Yet right now, in this moment, he only pain and guilt. He wanted to step away. Give her space. Tell her farewell. Remove himself from her life and stop inflicting so much pain. She didn’t deserve that. He even swallowed deeply, trying to push away the guilt for a second.

But he didn’t step away. Suddenly Ares was much too aware about the heated blood that coursed through his body. A fire erupted in his chest, breathing new and arrogant life in his heart. His expression, soft and careful a second before turned into something intense. Hate or love, he wasn’t sure. Right now they felt like one and the same. He was done being icy, distant and careful. The fire between them was too evident, and he was done denying it. “I’m done pushing away.” He thrust her backwards, pinning her hands next to her. Exposing her as his breath turned hot. “Fuck me then.” He said. “Fuck me and then see if you never want me again. Cast me aside like I did to you.” His heart was raging in his chest as heat began to radiate from his body. He was close to her, and he could smell the sweet, earthy and musky scent on her.

"Ares—" this time when she voiced his name, it didn't crack, only escaped on the wind of a whisper. Air was knocked from her lungs as he pinned her to the outside wall of the gardens, holding her in place with arms at her side. There was nothing left for her to do but look up into the fire burning in his eyes and she would be embarrassed to admit she didn't know if it was fury or lust induced. Her ire had diminished though she tried to keep her flames from dying out. Trying to feed off his own fire to keep hers alight. The warmth emanating from his touch was enough to burn, but she kept still, refusing to pull out of his grasp. Again his name fell from her lips but nothing more followed. What was there to say, what could she do? Laz expected to be met with resistance, a fight, something, but not this.

There was a twitch upon her skin that told her he was going to pull away soon, something she felt she didn't want. Before he could move she grabbed the fabric of his shirt and pulled him down to her level effectively connecting their lips. A sense of warmth enveloped her traveling throughout her body as she pressed herself closer to him. Melting into the scene. Lithe hands, decorated in hammered bronze, carded through his dark locks, tugging him even closer, attempting to steal the breath from his very lungs. This was her moment. Her chance. To convince herself and release the signs put in place by an outsider for what love should be for her. Here was a man a god, who seemed to love her. He said he did. He ruined his life for her. Couldn't she do the same for him? Truly?

She didn't want to be alone once more. Not with her thoughts, or questions. Not for anything. But to force him to be with her in something she herself wasn't even sure was true or not, didn't sit right. Wouldn't be right. A furrow of her brow was set in pace as these thoughts danced behind her eyes. Giving a final nip to his bottom lip, hands sliding down to cup his face she pressed their foreheads together. Breath colliding between them in the cool night air around them. "You will always hold a special place in my heart. I owe you so much." Where once her voice shook out of rage, it now cracked under sorrow, tears welled along the lash line threatening to spill over "I'm sorry, Ares."

He wished she hadn’t said those words. He wished the moment would’ve lasted an eternity. For a split second he felt complete again. He felt what he felt two weeks ago. When he kissed Tlaz for the first time it paled any memory of love he had. It was the reason why he broke up with Julie. Now he had it in the palm of his hand. He had her…yet like sand she slipped between his fingers again. He took a step back, looking at the paved ground below him. His heart first ached, then felt as it collapsed into an all-consuming black hole. Ripping a hole that could never be filled in his chest. A shiver ran across his back, he trembled as a sob went through him. But no, he couldn’t show that. Not here. Not now. Not in front of Tlaz. “I understand.” His voice was weak. For a moment he looked her in the eyes. There were tears in his, though he hoped he could fight them off long enough. “I’ll be seeing you, Tlaz.” Deep down he knew it was true. Eternity was too long and the cities they were forced to reside in too small. In a year, a decade, a century, it didn’t matter. They’d see each other again. Each with other people. Each smiling their knowing smiles perhaps. But now the pain was too raw for that fact to help. He walked away, heading towards a quiet, silent and lonely place for the night.

Divinus: The God RP, Mk. IV

A Life of Choices

---

As Carn raged his battle eye to eye, blade to blade, so too did Auriëlle fight from afar. Wielding not blades but the elements of this world. Arcs of lightning were thrown up the wall, while a torrent of arrows flew down. Unbeknown to the sorceress, the eyed metal disk on her hip was subtly moving the arrows around. Leaving her unscathed even after an aimed volley. Seeing all the arrows around her but none of them hitting her made her laugh out loud as she threw another ball of fire that collided up against the wall.

The sorceress only saw a flicker before she felt a searing pain in her tight, forcing her to a knee. A beam of pure light had burned away the cloth armor on her leg. Cinder still ate away at the black edges of the elsewise blue cloth, while the skin underneath began to bleed. With a snarl she pulled the gnarled wooden staff from her back and put it against her leg. It hurt, but flesh began to knit itself together again. Auriëlle held it near the wound for just long enough to seal the wound. There was no time to spare. When she ducked out of the stone covered she looked up. Only to be blinded by another flash. She winced and ducked away again, blinking a few times in an attempt to regain her sight.

“Now you’re pissing me off.” The sorceress said. Again she pulled from her cover but instantly reached out with the building hatred for whoever was throwing the light at her. The malice manifested itself into the sorceress’ eyes. “You think light will save you!?” Auriëlle yelled out, knowing her victim couldn’t hear her. “But if you love it so much, then I’ll take it from you. Forever!” She closed the grip of her outstretched hand, completing the hex. Knowing that high up there on the walls, whatever fool had thought her prey was on their knees screaming as her hex destroyed her eyes.

It brought a strange sense of serenity to Auriëlle as another five arrows fell just short of her and someone else died, impaled on a shard of ice beside her. A smirk formed on her lips. “Look at your pathetic follower, Oraelia. That is what worshipping you brings them. Maybe they should’ve been worshipping me.”

”There you are.” Came an impassive feminine whisper all around her. The air began growing warmer. ”Betrayed by your hubris.” She said with a mocking laugh. All at once a pillar of light descended from the heavens, surrounding Auriëlle in a torrent of color that resembled a rainbow. Nothing else could be seen, not even the battle that raged around her. ”A mortal life is a precious thing, Auriëlle.” She said with anger, there was no warmth here, just heat.

The sudden pillar took her by surprise but she quickly shook it off, replacing it with defiance as the goddess spoke. She could still hear the battle raging around her but saw only color. A snarl formed on Auriëlle’s face as she kept a tight grip on the staff in her hand as she realized the voice lacked any kindness. It wouldn’t matter, she survived the onslaught of something divine before. She could survive again, maybe even kill it! Arcs of blue lightning travelled over her scaled arm in anticipation. Her red eyes peered around, ready to strike at whatever form the goddess would take while saying: “Then I have destroyed many precious things. I chose to kill” A smirk formed on her lips. “And I’m no longer afraid. No longer alone. No longer lost. I have found myself.” By now she was practically begging for the sun goddess to take form.

”Yes, you have found yourself. That is clear now. No longer are you the misguided child Oraelia talked to so long ago.” A woman’s face, made of light appeared before her from the wall. She looked disappointed. ”And look how far you’ve fallen.” She said, lips unmoving.

Auriëlle almost frowned when she heard the mention of Oraelia. Did she just send a pawn to deal with her!? How disappointing. “Fallen?” She took a small step back, her smirk growing into a full grin. “I have ascended!” Auriëlle proclaimed, firmly ignoring Neiya’s advice to never go up against a god. “I have grown more in power than any of your worshippers. Nothing can stop me!” With those words said she reached out with her arm, launching the bolt of lightning at the manifestation of light.

The lightning hit the face on the wall, then arced upwards, briefly turning the pillar blue. When it at last dissipated, the face was gone yet the ring of light remained, fading back into its colors. ”And it seems,” the voice came again, a new face forming in the wall, ”That your aspirations have clouded your judgement. You are sick, Auriëlle. Sick of the mind. Drunk on this lust for power. You have murdered innocents, you have razed towns and now, you attempt to be worshipped like a god? What are you doing Auriëlle? Think for but a moment, is this truly what you want to be?”

She never had to think. She had two years to think. Yet even now she looked down at the hand that had cast the lightning. Was this who she truly wanted to be? But the scale that had formed on her forearm brought her back. Why wouldn’t she want all this? Before she was weak. Now she was strong. The goddess before her would have her believe, apparently, that this lust for power was a sickness. Was wrong. How could something that felt this good be wrong.

“It is.”

Again she threw her magic out, lightning arced from the oaken branch towards the newly formed face. With her free hand she called upon every bit of shadow found in every nook and fold on herself and bid it to crawl out. To banish the light and push it away.

The light bent backwards, the chorus and view of battle seeping into view like slits on a cut bag, then it exploded outwards and dissipated. The battle still raged on and the heat was replaced by cole. But it was not the end.

”So be it.” Came the avatar's disappointed voice. A blinding flash of light erupted before her in the very air. When the light died down, a tall oval mirror was suspended over the ground. It did not show any reflection from her world, but of one beyond beauty, of a faraway place beyond the war that surrounded her. And then from that mirror- no, that portal- She came.

Tall, eatherael and with beauty beyond compare, an avatar stepped forth. An embodiment of Oraelia. Arms outstretched.

Waiting.

This time, her lips did move when she spoke. ”Go on then. Strike me down. Kill me. Show the world how it should fear you.” She said in a voice like a summer breeze.

For a second the taunt pushed Auriëlle off base. Could she really kill a god? Was she powerful enough for that? Seeing what she assumed to be the goddess herself now made her doubt. After all, just a moment ago she learned that there was another curtain in her life, and she had peered beyond it for only a moment to realize she was still just a speck of dust compared to what was truly out there. How she wished she still wielded that power now.

But this speck of dust was going to stand up now. Like before, she didn’t just imagine the goddess dead. She wanted her destroyed. Erased from history even! Never to have existed! With a banshee scream she unleashed the mirage wave at the creature of light.

The wave consumed the avatar, wrapping all around her in foul dark magic. All was quiet, a singular focus was on that sight. Then the mirage was cast outwards, like leaves blowing in an autumn spring. Revealing an untouched being, who dropped her hands down to her side.

”I wanted you to see me. So that the last thing you ever saw was the Light.” she said, unbothered by her attack. She then tilted her head at Auriëlle and waved her hand. ”I now take from you, that which you took with your hex and cruelty.”

Real fear gripped Auriëlle when the avatar waved her hand. What did she do!? Where would the stone come from!? Nothing happened. It was nothing. Of course it was nothing! She was protected after all. Now even from the gods… wait. Something was happening. The bright day, once an ironic symbol of what Auriëlle presumed to be a true uncaring goddess, grew dim. It wasn’t even close to evening? Did clouds appear? The world became darker. Akin to early dusk, yet the sun was still bright above. “What did you do?” Auriëlle asked, an inkling of fear crept in her voice. The world kept darkening. Shadows grew more prominent. “What did you do!?” Auriëlle yelled. Day turned to night before Auriëlle’s eyes. The only light she saw came from faint, unfocused fires. But even that fire faded. Coated the world in a deep darkness.

The sorceress collapsed on her knees, frantically looking around her. The fighting was everywhere around her, yet she couldn’t place it. “What did you do!?” She screamed as she turned around and around, trying to find something to see. Fear truly gripped her now as her body began to shake. Anything could be coming for her. Anything could hurt her now.

Her voice was closer now, ”Why, you serve the darkness do you not? Taking sight from those you have murdered. It seems only right that the same punishment is given to you.” Her voice loomed over Auriëlle now, ”Isn’t it fitting, to feel that fear? To know, in the end, you were powerless to stop it? Nalla felt the same. In fact, she’s the reason I even found you, her memories were so… So fixated on you and your crimes. Now you’ve both been punished but… Hmm… Yes, I think every face that sees you, every child, woman and man- They should know just how far you’ve fallen. A testament to hubris and the enemy you've become of life.”

A finger touched her forehead and something burned in her flesh, lasting for a painful few seconds. The finger then lifted away. ”There, a Sunbrand to mark you.”

A second after the finger touched her forehead she struck forward. Bidding fire to explode before her. And a second later she heard deafening screams. The fire hadn’t struck the goddess but her own mages. Two of them were now burning and screaming and running. Others turned to look at her. Even if the battle’s flow had ebbed somewhat, arrows and bolts of fire were still exchanged. Most didn’t know what was happening. Most didn’t know Auriëlle and her magic well enough. But when the sorceress clawed back, causing another great burst of fire Esiré was one of the first to realize something was deeply, dangerously wrong. She looked at the light and then her increasingly frantic Prophetess. Fear gripped her own heart.

“I will kill you!” Auriëlle screamed as she unleashed a burst of ice hitting and gutting another sorcerer. The druids of her band were stepping away, muttering their prayers to Oraelia or whatever native name they knew. “I will kill you!” She kept yelling as she frantically flailed around with her magic. But tears began to stream from her face as fear set in completely. Eventually she tripped over something, she never saw what, and fell down. Her rage shattered like it was thin ice. Replaced by desperation and dread.

”Now you see what happens to those that aspire with such wickedness in their hearts. Fear not Auriëlle, by the grace of your god you still yet live, as thanks for his patronage of My Lady’s daughter.” the voice seemed to echo above her. ”There are much worse fates than losing your eyes, just ask all those that you’ve marred. I shall leave you now, but know this, Auriëlle. I wish you the best and perhaps one day, you will find your way to the Light again. Farewell, Daughter of Qael.” There was a strange sound, like fabric being ripped and then nothing but the dying of men.

Loyal Esiré waited, hidden behind one of the raised stones until the avatar and her light had finally vanished. Auriëlle kept throwing around magic in a desperate attempt to hit something. Anything! Anything so she wouldn’t feel so weak. So helpless. Esiré dashed towards her, sprinting and dodging arrows left and right. Her heart nearly broke out of her chest as she managed to jump over a wave of fire unleashed by the Prophetess. A roll only half-broke her fall. Something warm began to trickle from her shoulder but she ignored it. Finally she reached Auriëlle. “It’s okay! It’s okay! I’m here. I’m here!” She exclaimed, taking Auriëlle into a hug and ceasing her indiscriminate assault upon everyone around her.

For a moment Esiré held her there as Auriëlle cried out. When she pulled back though, she saw frantic eyes looking around and something new. A black arch with thorns, no a black half-sun branded upon the Prophetess' forehead. “I can’t see you.” Auriëlle said in a meek voice as she held Esiré firmly. Afraid that she’d be alone and in the dark again if she left. “I can’t see anything.”

Summary

Auriëlle fights from the backline against the few mages and archers still on the remains of the wall near the breach. One brave mage even manages to hit her with a ray of light. Which prompts her to hex and destroy their eyesight. Then she challenges’ Oraelia’s very godhood by saying that maybe the mage should’ve worshipped her. Finally Rhiona decides to make an appearance to shut the mouthy brat down. A rainbow colored beam of light came down upon the sorceress as a face of golden light appeared upon the wall. The two enter a short conversation. Rhiona is not impressed by Auriëlle’s growth, in turn pushing Auriëlle over the edge as she tries to destroy the face. Twice, in fact. Finally Rhiona decides to come down from her realm to face Auriëlle face to face.

The sorceress, in her boundless arrogance, unleashes her most devastating magic. Only for it to have no effect on the avatar at all. Rhiona then finally decides on a fitting punishment for the sorceress. With a wave of her hand she took away Auriëlle’s sight. Rendering her blind without a chance to ever heal it. The sorceress slowly realizes the light is taken from her and thrashes around, throwing fire all around her in an effort to hit the avatar but instead hits her own troops. Then Rhiona marks her with the Sunbrand, declaring her an enemy of life itself. With the punishment delivered, Rhiona pulls back into her realm. Esiré then manages to get close to her Prophetess and draws her in a disarming hug. Only to notice a moment later that Auriëlle is branded by a black half-sun on her forehead.

MP

Oraelia 4MP/5MP
-1MP To portal Rhiona down to Galbar
-1MP To portal Rhiona back to her Realm
-2MP To Curse Auriëlle with blindness. This blindness cannot be healed by any means.
-1DP (Sunlight) To Mark Auriëlle with a Sunbrand, designating her as an enemy of life.
-1DP (Sunlight) To do sunlight shenanigans.

0MP/3DP Remaining

Prestige

Post Length: +10K Characters
+5 Prestige >> Auriëlle
-3 Prestige >> Auriëlle: Using the Disintegration spell
-15 Prestige >> Auriëlle: Upgrade Heliath I to II

Divinus: The God RP, Mk. IV

Visitors from the East

“They will reject us?” The girl riding beside Darragh, Ciara, said. Her dark eyes looked on as if they were peering through the burgeoning town. She always had a strange fascination with the place and the druids. Their connection with the gods was so much stronger than their own. Even though they had lived in these lands for so many years. Only a few years, which felt like a lifetime, she had snuck into the town again and again. Pretending to be a pilgrim as she learned about Reiya and Seeros. They were so different from her own seasonal gods. They did not go to sleep for three quarters of a year, and could apparently hear them everywhere.

“Yes.” Darragh said from atop his highland deer. A hundred miles at least to the east laid a cove of dead Sigeran worshippers. Slaughtered to the last. Their duty was fulfilled and he had no doubt that the théin Boudicca would honor her word. But the druids were a dangerous and arrogant bunch. Where Ciara's dark eyes were filled with admiration as they approached the main gate, his blue eyes looked icy in comparison. They were slowed down at the gate, as a long line of entering travellers blocked the entrance with sleds of wares, livestock or big family flocks. At the gate stood guards - from their vantage point atop their deer, they could see he was carving down something on a wooden plaque as he let a family enter into the town before waving over the next.

The two of them awaited their turn. Darragh kept fiddling with his spruce wood carved icon of an owl that hung from his neck. Speaking wordless prayers to Irra to protect them. As her emissary was now protecting their homes. Ciara, for her part, could not suppress the smile she had on her lips as she would enter the great place once more. When they finally could approach the gate and its guards, Darragh said: “I have business with théin Boudicca.”

The recording guard looked up past a raised brow. “That’s sanndatr Boudicca now - long may she reign. Have you anyone to speak for you?”

“Only sanndatr Boudicca herself.” Darragh already prepared himself for the refusal. Such was the way with the serpents. Words and honor never meant anything to them. None the less he remained calm. Hiding his disdain for the place behind a mask of friendliness.

“Mhm,” the guard mumbled skeptically and looked to one of his colleagues on the right. “Go, uh, go see if Aifric’s available.” The guard nodded and went off into the city. The gatekeeper pointed to a few benches off to the side of the gate, upon which there already sat some families around a campfire in the centre. “Please, have a seat while we see what we can do about your query. If you’d like anything to eat, ask for Duncan and he’ll bring you some grub. Now, if it pleases, move to the side, if you would. The line is long and the air is cold.” Before they could move, the guard had already stepped to the side and beckoned over the next family in line.

“We will, thank you!” Ciara practically beamed as she stepped her deer away and then dismounted. Darragh was right beside her. Out of earshot he mumbled: “Only a Dûnan would complain about the cold.” None the less the two Cenél sat around the fires. Families were talking and sharing food. Ciara was quick to join them in the conversation. Many children asked about the long braid that fell from her brown hair to her shoulder. Adorned with white plumes and small trinkets. Though she brushed it off as just something she liked. The girl asked many from where they were and what they were doing here, outside of the town.

Darragh, meanwhile, stayed away from the fire and the people but also stayed out of the way as well. He kept fiddling with the owl icon as he stared intensely at the gate and its keepers. His eyes strayed upwards from time to time. Hoping to catch a glimpse again.

“So, what brings you here?” came a voice. It came from a large, round man with a sloppy cap that hid his receding hairline and patchy brown beard covering his jaw like a ragged blanket. He wore thick furs, and in his gloved hands, he held a bowl of steaming oatmeal with what looked to be mushrooms and onions. In between chews, he offered Darragh a sun-like smile, enhanced by the redness of his face.

“The words of-” Darragh tried to say, but Ciara was quick to jump in: “We’re here for sanndatr Boudicca. About a deal we made with her back when she was a théin.” The girl said as she pulled off her leather glove and offered a hand, together with a nice smile, to the man she assumed was Aifric. Her elder, first surprised, then took a step back. Letting the girl handle the dealings. She, after all, had a strange talent for talking with the Dûnans.

The man gave a small sign that the declaration had made him choke on his porridge. He brought his fist to his mouth and, after breathing for a bit, swallowed. The man took the hand politely. “Ugh-... Pardon me - didn’t expect that, is all. Where’re you from, to have business with the sanndatr?” He grunted. “Oh, and I’m Duncan, by the way. Nice to meet you…” He turned his hand as to gesture for her to name herself.

“I’m Ciara.” The girl said motioning to herself. Then she pointed to her elder behind her. “And this is Darragh. We’re from the-” A hand on her shoulder stopped her from speaking. The old man stepped in for a second. “We’re just with a band of mercenaries. The sanndatr asked us to finish some heretics away from here. My daughter here, you see she loves the sanndatr and always wanted to meet her. She’s a true inspiration.” Ciara, catching up quickly, nodded with a smile. “She’s amazing!” That, to her, wasn’t a lie though.

“Oh, she sure is,” agreed the cook, scooping another spoonful of porridge into his mouth. “Mercenary work must be good in these times - bet you two will be walking home with a bag of silver trinkets each. Was it Sigerans you went after?”

“Yes.” said Darragh, as he released his grip on the shoulder of Ciara. She glanced behind her, seeing Darragh take his seat again. “I’m sorry for my dad. He can be a bit grumpy. If I may ask a question, why must someone vouch for us now? I’ve been in town a few times and they always greeted strangers with open arms?”

“The Dûnlands ain’t what they used to be, y’know,” the cook lamented with a shake of his head. “With Sigerans on the warpath still, and bandits attacking traders and travellers in open day, sanndatr’s been pretty thorough with checking around for their ilk, and that’s why we’re taking down the names of those who enter and leave.” He ate some more porridge. “Ain’t nothing we want more than to welcome everybody in here to just live together in peace and joy, but, well, that just ain’t possible. At least not nowadays.”

Darragh was turned away from everyone. Luckily, because he nearly winced when he heard ‘Dûnlands’. As if it was theirs. As if they had always been around. They weren’t the same? What did the druid-kin know of these lands? Darragh walked over the bones of his ancestors. Ciara remained friendly though. “That probably explains why they didn’t let us through. They went to get someone called Aifric. Do you know who he is?”

“Oh, Aifric’s no man. She’s a fine lady, a théin at that! She’s in charge of the guards in town. Proper, polite, powerful - can’t ask for more in a théin. Oh, there she is now, I think - yup, that’s her.” A leather and fur-clad woman with a bronze belt buckle and a woolen bonnet approach, flanked on the right by the guard who had fetched her. She had an axe at her belt, but otherwise looked rather civilian, her torso held warm by a red and green plaid and her legs, covered by a kilt of the same pattern reaching down to her knees. From her feet to her knees, she wore white, woolen kneesocks. Duncan offered her a chestbump salute, and Aifric returned it.

“Afternoon, Duncan.” She said politely. “Are these the ones?”

“The very same, théin. Old man’s named Darragh; girl’s name’s Ciara. Say they’re mercenaries coming to claim the prize promised by the sanndatr.”

“Mercenaries? We haven’t hired--...” She paused for a bit, eyeing Darragh closed. A light of realisation flashed in her eyes. “... Oh, no, I, I know what this is. Alright. Thanks for waiting with them,, Duncan.”

“Least I could do!” the cook answered with a grin and toasted her bowl to both the guests and the théin.

“You two - come with me, please.” Aifric beckoned for them to follow while the guard at her side returned to her post.

“See you later Duncan!” Ciara said as she waved him goodbye. Darragh just offered him a very small nod and a grunt as he passed the cook. Letting Airfric guide them into the town. As usual, Ciara looked around with awe. Every time she returned it seemed as if the city had grown. Darrah, for his part, was looking for the scars left by the Sigerans. While great efforts had been made to hide them, three years of neglect and destruction could simply not be erased in the span of a few months: many buildings and houses were still in ruin; the road was bumpy and unkept; blood and soot could still be seen in spots and stripes on many walls and corners. This city’s scars would take decades to fully heal.

“How’s Cenél this time of year?” came a question from the théin before them, her head turning slightly to ask as they walked.

“Well enough.” Darragh lied. The Cenél were reeling as much from the Sigeran threat as Ha-Dûna had, and they didn’t have the copious amount of blessings from the gods. However, they did have generations worth of knowledge of the land. They would heal like the land would heal. Their houses would be regrown and sacred groves would turn wild again. But for now, they were consigned to suffering as the Dûnans were.

“That so? That’s a relief. There were talks earlier about sending over a delegation with food and supplies eastward to those affected most harshly by the winter. Cenél was on the list, y’know.” She offered Darragh a knowing look. “The offer is still there - you know what they say about the oatcakes here.”

Darragh cast some dark, hard eyes towards the théin but the pleading gaze of his student soften it. It would break his honor. What were they without their honor? Alive, at least. But the Cenél would have to restore their glory. “It would be appreciated.” The elder finally said.

Aifric nodded. “We’ll be discreet about it. If you’d like, you could bring it to them yourself, say you earned it on your own for your people. Ha-Dûna doesn’t have to be involved in any way. It’ll be Cenél’s achievement - not ours.” She took a left onto the main street and nodded to the guards flanking each side of the walled city core. She then pointed across a bustling marketplace to an ageing longhouse adorned with shields, carved animal heads and a great plaque featuring the symbols of the each represented with jewelry and gems: a golden sun, a marble moon, an aquamarine, a silver star, an emerald leaf, a tiny mirror, a wooden harp and a granite tusk. “She’s in there.” Aifric turned back to Darragh and crossed her arms over her chest. “And about the supplies… How you want it delivered, though, is up to you. We don’t want conflict anymore - none of us do. We understand, though, that nothing can go back to the way it was…” She looked off to the side. “We can only, well, beg for forgiveness and pray that bonds of friendship can be relinked.”

Can bonds be relinked if they never existed in the first place? Darragh was about to challenge Aifric’s statement, but chose not to in the end. “I thank you for your offer, but I would be lying to my people then.” With those words spoken Darragh passed the théin. Ciara just offered up a meek smile as she followed her elder towards the longhouse. “They represent the eight Dûnan gods.” She whispered to Darragh, as they both looked at the symbols. The elder had no short amount of distaste. It was, after all, a Dûnan god who caused the atrocities. Not of the last five years, but of the last three decades. They pressed on, reaching the longhouse.

Pushing aside the bearskin door curtain, they were greeted by the scent of charcoal, burnt grain and sweat. The inside felt like a sauna, the heat slapping them in the face like a wash of hot water. Six bodies hunched around the central hearth turned their heads curiously, then lowered their brows in suspicion. “Hail,” came a polite greeting. “You lost, strangers?”

It took a minute for both Ciara and Darragh to recover from the sudden, almost oppressive wet heat. “We… théin Aifric told us we could find the sanndatr here.” Said Ciara. Behind her, Darragh was already preparing for the worst: having been played with.

“Oh! Yeah, she’ll be here any minute. She’s just around the corner, uh, answering nature’s call.” The speaker tugged on his shirt, which was drenched in sweat. “By the gods, Brian, do you really have to keep it so warm in here?”

“Sanndatr’s orders, Faolán,” a fat bearded man likely known as Brian retorted with a nod. “Nothing irks her more than the cold.”

“Yeah, but this is just sadistic.” The man known as Faolán dabbed his forehead with a towel and turned back to face the two at the door. “Well, don’t just stand there - come join us by the fire! You must be freezing, you two!”

“Plus, you’re letting in cold air,” came a sour addition from a brown-skinned woman with black hair. Brian sighed.

“Now, now, Hilda, don’t be rude to our guests - all travellers are welcome in our town.” The woman scoffed and got up from her seat. However, just as she was passing by Darragh, she stopped, eyeing him closely.

“Hey, I remember you.”

Only a Dûnan would complain about the cold. Darragh’s eyes avoided those of the woman named Hilda, as he stepped inside. Though he kept his distance from the fire and the other people. “You must be mistaken.” He said with a faint smile as his eyes wandered around in the longhouse.

Ciara, meanwhile, did not have the same reservations and threw off her heavy fur cloak and the thick wool garment underneath that. Stepping closer to the fire in a very dull wool tunic that was held together with a belt and some copper pins. “It’s really warm here!” She exclaimed to both Faolán and Brian.

“Sure is. Hope it’s not offensively hot to you, friend. Hey, you hungry, by the way?”

“Oh I just ate outside at the gate!” Ciara said as she sat beside Brian with a big smile. “And I mean… I don’t think I’ve ever been in a place this hot.” The Cenél didn’t burn their fires so hot. At least not to warm such a big longhouse. They found it deeply wasteful. She wanted to ask how they could stand it for seemingly such a long time but she didn’t want to insult them.

“Yeah, none of us really do, either - well, except maybe Kaer Aethel over there.” Brian pointed at a bearded man sporting his first wrinkles of age, barely dressed in a white robe with a plant fiber rope around his waist. The man frowned back and slapped the pointing hand playfully away.

“That’s because I live here, you dolt!” the druid replied. Meanwhile, over by Darragh, Hilda cracked a smirk.

“No, I definitely know you. You were the one who held up Boudicca for an age just as we were marching on Ha-Dûna earlier this winter. Come to claim your prize for the work, have you?” Around the fire, the others grew wary.

Even Ciara turned tense as she watched her elder closely. Darragh turned to face the woman. “I have. And I shall claim it off the sanndatr.” His eyes trailed from Hilda towards the druid sitting by the fire. He would not like what would be said in moments.

Hilda eyed him up and down, her bead and bone-decorated brains swinging with her bobbing head. She eyed the cautious stares of her peers by the fire and then turned back to Darragh and scoffed quietly. “Alright. Behave yourselves while you’re here.” With that, she cast aside the door curtain and stepped out. “Shit, it’s cold,” was the last thing she said before her voice disappeared into the distance. By the fire, the five others unleashed as one a long sigh.

“Sorry about her, friend… She doesn’t take well to for-... Strangers,” Brian apologised quickly.

Darragh just let out a grunt and turned away again to observe the longhouse. It felt soulless and bloodless. Completely unlike the houses grown by the Cenél. Darragh was calming himself down. Once the Dûnans were strangers. In his eyes thirty years didn’t change that fact.

Meanwhile Ciara looked visibly anxious as she fiddled with her fingers. Her eyes darting around. Eventually she broke the question: “So what’s she like?”

The five got quiet, exchanging nervous looks. “She’s a bit of a wildcard, that one,” offered Kaer Aethel and took his ceramic pipe out. Brian caught the gesture and took out his own, as well; the remaining two who hadn’t identified themselves yet did the same. Lightning his pipe up with the bowl half-full of pipeweed, he continued, “Fantastic fighter, dutiful théin and able commander, she is, but her heart is full of rage and hate for, well…” He took a slow drag and exhaled into the fires, the smoke shooting up through the hole in the ceiling with the hot air. “... Let’s just say she isn’t very supportive of the sanndatr’s wish to open up Ha-Dûna to everyone again.”

Ciara got quiet for a second. To her, Hilda probably lost someone. Recently. Someone dear. Darragh who overheard was more sceptical. The Sigerans came from within Ha-Dûna. Not from without. Hilda probably despised the locals. Despised them. The two remained quiet and just waited for the return of the sanndatr.

A few minutes passed in smoking silence, the room filling with the cabbagy scent of pipeweed and the occasional sound of coughing. Then, at last, there came stomping on the doorstep and the curtain flew off to the side, revealing none other than Boudicca, dressed in unlaced boots, a woolen kilt, a bear pelt that hung down over her shoulders a little past her chest, and nothing else. She gave her scarred cheek a scratch and groaned. “Ugh! That was the hardest, sweatiest, most painful shit I’ve taken in--” She then caught sight of the visitors and swallowed the rest of her sentence, clearing her throat. “Oh, uh… Good, you’re here.” She stomped over to sit by the fire, taking her reserved spot with the druid at her right hand and one other woman at her left, kissing the woman on the forehead and the man on the lips. “Welcome to my hall, Darragh the Cenél - I see you’ve brought a companion. What’s your name, little sister?”

“Ciara!” The bright eyed girl said. “It’s an honor to finally get to meet you, sanndatr.”

Darragh looked less enthusiastic. “Sanndatr Boudicca.” He greeted her with a small nod. “The heretics lay dead.”

“Good. I expected nothing less from the Cenél. The Sigerans were once our kinsfolk - we take no pleasure in eradicating them; however, just like the herd must be culled when disease is found, so must the evil be vanquished so the kind may remain. You have done us a great service.” She rolled her head around on her neck and shrugged the bear pelt off her shoulders, sweat dripping down her forehead and making her chestnut hair stick to her face. “Name your prize.”

The elder suddenly straightened his back. Standing slightly taller and straighter than before. “A promise of tranquility, peace and respect towards my people and our lands.” The words had been carefully chosen to declare Cenél’s independence from Ha-Dûna. Taking back the conquered lands of the Sigerans, and simultaneously taking the assurance that they will not be attacked in the future by some warmongering Dûnan who would doubtlessly want to raid the lands they once saw as their own.

“And…” His eyes fell upon the druid sitting at the ring. “...a promise that the sacred rites and traditions of my people will never be ridiculed and prosecuted by the Dûnans ever again.” Anyone who knew anything about the Cenél, knew that he wasn’t asking for something as dull as religious freedom. Darragh was talking about magic and his gaze did not waver from the younger druid.

Boudicca furrowed her brow and pursed her lips. “Done,” she then said curtly and stood up, baked sweat running down her torso like rainwater. “Let anyone who speaks ill of the Cenél or transgresses their border be subjected to the whip and rod. Five lashes for blatant ridicule; fifty for religious persecution; one hundred for bringing unrest and chaos to their lands. Pen this down in Dlíbóka post-haste, so it may be made law.” She looked back to Darragh and raised a brow. “Will that suffice?”

“One more thing.” He said, as he walked up towards Ciara sitting by the fire. He put both his hands on her shoulders as he stood behind her, looking at everyone around them. The gods knew he hated this, but it had to be said. Ciara, for her part, had no idea what was happening and looked around rather nervously. “To foster prosperity between our people...I and Ciara will remain here. As representatives to the Cenél.”

“What!?” Ciara exclaimed as she shot up and turned around to face Darragh. “You can’t do that!” Yet as she looked into Darragh’s eyes, she realized he could. Slowly she sat down again. Still looking shocked by the news.

Boudicca gave her armpit a pensive scratch. Following her example, too, the other Dûnans around the fire started loosening up their shirts and robes to avoid their sweat soaking their clothes even more. With a wry brow, she leaned over to Aethel and whispered something to him. The druid’s face turned into a frown and he whispered something back. Boudicca’s answer was curt and the druid sucked regretfully on a tooth. “You’re both welcome to stay for as long as you’d like. You will be given lodgings and food as any other guest would, and you will have my ear should you have thoughts to share. However…” Boudicca rose up, stepped over the bench she had been sitting on and went over to a table upon which stood a covered pitcher and a couple of neatly arranged drinking horns. She lifted the fabric cover and poured some yellow, watery substance into the horn and gave it a sip. “... You will not be allowed to pray to your own gods in the Circle, nor in the temples. Just as we are to respect your faith, we ask that you respect ours by keeping it separated from the Eight. You may have a patch of land on which to build your own altars or godhouse, however - that can be arranged.”

Pray to gods in a temple? Darragh had to fight the disgust so it wouldn’t appear on his face. The Cenél did not worship the seasonal gods at man-made places. They worshipped in places the gods had given them, amongst nature. Of course, only druids would be so arrogant as to create their own, convenient places of worship. “I thank you for your hospitality.” Darragh said with a small nod. “May Cenél and Ha-Dûna prosper with this newfound friendship.”

“That was ever our intention,” Boudicca added and the two clasped hands.

SummaSum

Darragh is grumpy, believing Boudicca (a Dûnan) will reneg on their agreement. Together with his apprentice, the young Ciara, he approaches Ha-Dûna. But is stopped at the gates. Because only sanndatr Boudicca can really vouch for him they are asked to sit to the side amongst other families. Where the cook Duncan strikes up a conversation with Ciara. Though Darragh makes sure the fact that they are Cenél isn’t dropped. After a while théin Aifric comes to get them.

She leads them to a longhouse which they enter. Only to be instantly hit in the face by some truly oppressive heat. Especially for a Cenél. Darragh keeps his distance from the people inside. Patiently waiting for Boudicca to appear while denying Hilda that she saw him before. Ciara talks a bit with the people inside until a bearskin-wearing Boudicca comes from the world's most descriptive dump session.

The Cenél Fakir and her engage in some basic diplomacy: a non-aggression pact, respect of Cenél religious practices (which basically means magic) and allowing himself and his apprentice to act as ambassadors within Ha-Dûna for the Cenél people. The sanndatr agrees on terms that they will not worship their gods within the Circle or the Temples.

Prestigios

10k+
Boudicca 7 + 5 = 12

𝑫𝒆𝒔𝒄𝒆𝒏𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏 {A God RP}

---

Hel

_{Acropolis Party}

Goddess Of Helheim

---

The base was thumping, even though Hel could barely hear the music. But that base, she could feel it in her stomach and it made her blood course faster. She stood against a wall away from what appeared to have been dubbed the main dancefloor. For the first time, she realized dancing had evolved. From something you did together, to something you did alone or with two. Seeing those kids dance, smile, sweat, and sing along the songs made the corner of her own lips rise a little bit. Sometimes she wished she could dance like that. Hathor had taught her some moves but now she felt almost ashamed of her manners back at the Jade Jaguar. Even though it was just her and the Egyptian goddess.

“A drink?” One guy almost yelled in an effort to rise above the volume. Which pulled Hel from her own thoughts. He looked nice enough. A bit older than most, but still pretty young. With a nice smile and the same golden hair as Baldr. He was holding out a red cup. Probably filled with beer.

”No thanks.” Hel quickly refused him with a handwave.

The youth was insistent though. He came standing next to her, with his back against the wall. Looking at the dance floor. “So why are you here?” He asked over the loud music.

Hel assumed he was referring to how she was dressed. Assuming she was just someone’s older sister who was supposed to be somewhere else tonight but somehow got trapped here. Well, she cast a quick glance at Hebe and Coco to make sure they were safe, before she said: ”To do my duty.” With those words she pulled away from the wall and walked towards the stairwell. To where she heard that soft whisper calling her. She had tarried for too long and indulged in her own curiosities too much already.

The roof wasn’t entirely abandoned. A few chairs were scattered around. Some people were just talking without having to raise their voice. Other circles seemed to have been abandoned. A rather cold breeze was blowing over the roof. Or so Hel assumed, as quite a few people looked like they were shivering a bit up here.

Hel ignored most and walked towards someone who was sitting on the ledge on the ledge of the building. Wrapped in a blanket. Her legs dangling off the side of a building. Looking out into the city as well. Or so it looked. Hel knew what being forlorn looked like. Like mist, she floated over the roof until she reached the girl. ”You mind if I join you?”

The girl for her part only looked up. Underneath the blanket, the blonde looked like a party girl. Quite akin to Hebe, Hel thought. Only with blonde hair and perhaps a more revealing outfit. “Sure.” She said with a small voice before she looked out into the city again. She had a red cup between her legs and was fidgeting with tarot cards in her hands.

Hel did so and joined the blonde in looking out over the city. She couldn’t see it, but the graveyard was in that direction. Hidden by houses and tall buildings. For quite a while they were both quiet. Just looking, listening to the thumping bass below them or the police sirens echoing from a distance. From here, the streets were bathed in the golden street light. People moved like ants. The party was certainly garnering quite a crowd. Yet the blonde remained upstairs. Alone with Hel.

“You waiting for someone?” The goddess finally asked.

“No. Not really.” The girl answered. Never taking her eyes off that far off point she wasn’t really looking at. “I’m sorry. You probably came up to have a smoke or something. I’m alright. Really. I just…like it here. You don’t have to stay here to make me feel better.”

”You tried to talk to your sister today, didn’t you?” Hel said, never looking away from Seattle’s skyline. It would be easier for the girl.

The blonde next to her just let out a chuckle. “I mean… yeah. She texted me about this party. It’s stupid really. She thought it would cheer me up.” She took a sip from the red cup. It didn’t smell like beer or mead. Hel could see that much.

”Not your older sister.” Hel noted, looking sideways now at the girl. ”Your younger one. Elise.”

Quite instantly a frown formed over the girl’s eyes. She even shot up. “W-Wha… how do you know!? Are you stalking me?” She sounded incensed. Even violated. The goddess knew her eyes would be burning on her. Though she didn’t turn around to look the girl back in the eyes. “Fuck you.” With those words, she started to stomp away.

”She said she’s sorry about Derrek.” Hel said, still looking over the city. She was used to anger. To hate. To sadness. People felt a thousand and one things when they died. Rarely was it good. There was nothing she could do but take the punches and shrug them off later. For now though, she just wanted to help Elise and her sister. ”She said she’s sorry that she kissed him and she still love you very, very much.”

“How did you-“

”Know about the kiss? Elise told me.”

“You can talk to the dead?” the blonde said, scoffing as she stood with her arms folded towards Hel. But the goddess could hear that faint glimmer of doubt. The girl wrapped in her blanket believed in something. Now she just had to end up believing in Hel.

”I can. And I bet you’ll want me to prove it. I will if you want me to.” Hel turned to look at the mortal. Her icy eyes looking straight through her. ”But I’ll warn you. Calling on the dead is not a light matter. If you want to call upon someone, do it with respect.”

The girl seemed to be weighing her options. She looked back, at the door. There was a party going downstairs and here she was. Talking to a crazy woman dressed like she was going to some high-class ball. Yet Hel could see the hope in her eyes. She bit her lip and stepped back towards the edge of the roof where Hel was still sitting. “Alright…could you-“ There was doubt in her eyes, and no small amount of fear but also yearning and hope.

Hel took her hands as she got up to stand in front of the girl. “It’s okay.” She said with a soft voice. “Who do you want to talk to?”

“My sister… Elise.”

Hel just nodded faintly, then closed her eyes. It wasn’t so hard to find the recently deceased girl. She was so young. So beautiful. ‘Your sister wants to talk to you.’ Hel let echo in her thoughts.

‘You found her!?’ The goddess could feel the excitement in the ghost girl’s voice. ‘This is amazing! Thank you! Thank you so much! My sister…could you ask her if she’s still going after Jackson?’

”Are you still going after Jackson?” Hel asked out loud, suppressing a light chuckle.

She couldn’t see it, but the blonde whose hands she held was blushing fiercely all of a sudden. “What! No! Is she asking that!?” And so the banter between the dead and living continued, with Hel as a conduit. Somewhere during the improved séance, she opened her eyes again and saw true belief in the blonde called Amber’s eyes. The sisters talked about many heartfelt things. Love. Studies. The future. Even though they couldn’t hear each other, they shared laugh after laugh.

But after about fifteen minutes, Hel gently squeezed Amber’s hands. ”It’s time to say goodbye.” Hel said. ”I can’t hold Elise for much longer.”

Amber nodded and said her goodbyes and then Hel released her hands. The blonde broke into a sob as she whipped away a tear. From each eye. Smushing her mascara. “I’m sorry.” She said, even though she was still smiling. “I just…she died so suddenly. I never got a chance to say goodbye and…I miss her so much.” The sobbing didn’t stop. It only increased.

Hel didn’t want to hug the girl. For obvious reasons. Instead, she just offered a comforting smile to the girl. Both of them returned to sit on the edge of the building. Amber kept talking about her sister. About the things they did. Their fights and how they always hugged it out after. The less Hel said, the more the girl spoke but the goddess took it all in. Letting Amber just talk and vent. Though eventually, the conversation began to stall again. Both of them were again looking out into the city. Though this time Amber looked significantly less somber.

“Do you have siblings?” Amber then suddenly asked.

It caught Hel off guard. “I… do.” Visions of Fenrir shot through her head, from the few photos she had seen. They still hung over her bed. Those old, already fading polaroid’s. Next to more recent pictures of her father.

Amber must’ve sensed something was off. “You don’t see them often?”

Hel just stayed quiet for a while. Her stomach turned inside out as her heart ached. How did Jorm look these days? What was he doing? Did he read her letter? Would he send one in return? What kind of sister didn’t even know what her brother looked like? She missed them. So much. ”No…” She finally said softly. Trying to swallow the tears that were pooling under her eyes. ”Not as often as I would wish.” She finally admitted. But then gently wiped the tears out of her eyes. “It’s…complicated.” If she ever got close to her family, Ragnarök could be unleashed. Complicated felt like an understatement.

“I didn’t see my sister a whole lot either,” Amber admitted. “We used to play together every day. But as we grew older she and I grew apart. Then the fighting started. And then we both went away to college. If I had known she would die so soon, I would Facetimed every day with her.” The girl pulled her knees up to her chin, but a small smile was conjured on her lips. “I’m happy I got to talk to her one more time.”

The two of them remained on the edge roof, together, for a bit longer. Hel fully expected Amber to leave sooner rather than later. She was still dressed for the party and the goddess couldn’t imagine her wanting to stay up on the roof for much longer. Such was the way with people. They moved on. Hel, for her part, was happy to have fulfilled her duty for the night and just look into Seattle night. If Hebe or Comus wanted to go home they could text her. Or they’d find her up here. Which was doubtful, but still.

Sunken in her own thoughts, Hel didn’t even realize Amber was suddenly standing up beside Hel with an outstretched hand and a big smile on her face. “Let’s go to the party.”

The goddess shook her head. ”It’s quite alright. You go down and have fun.” She would stay upstairs where she belonged. Away from the laughter and the smiles and happiness. She was always told to stay away from such things.

There was, for a split second, an intense battle going on between their two stares. Gauging just how stubborn the other person was. “Well…okay.” Amber said eventually, sounding quite defeated. “Just… find me when you’re coming downstairs! I’ll make you an amazing cocktail!” And then she had her arms around Hel. The goddess barely knew what happened before Amber was bending down and pressing herself against her. As a reaction, she reached with her arms around but was in time to stop her. She couldn’t embrace Amber. No matter how badly she wanted to. Slowly she pulled her arms away again and Amber released her.

The blonde vanished down the stairs. Hel realized she was genuinely all alone on the roof and then her mind carried her thoughts away upon raven wings towards the abyss. Towards Jorm. And Fen. And her father. How she missed them. How she just wanted to be with them. And hug them! Hug everyone! Her lip trembled as she felt her sorrow pool under her eyes again. Now, alone, she couldn’t fight it anymore as the first tear fell. A sob shook her body as she tried to suppress that dreadful, all-consuming feeling. But she missed them. She wanted to see them. ”I’m sorry.” She whimpered softly. “I’m so sorry. I can’t. I really can’t.” She spoke the words as if they could hear them.

Divinus: The God RP, Mk. IV

Duxus

Quite a few birds were already resting on Duxus’ stone carapace. It wasn’t often they could just sit down on something so high up in the air, where it was safe. The great, stone construct for his part didn’t care. Duxus was slowly but constantly seemingly swimming through the air. The giant lobster figure had flown through a heavy rainstorm already. Which he shrugged off with little care. His duty was simple and direct. Go to the lodepoints of civilization and bring those willing to the Omniversity. In the future such travelling would be easy enough. Now though, he would have to stay put for longer. Perhaps even have to convince whatever local sapient species lived in the vicinity of the merit and advantage of the Omniversity. Alas, as the birds resting had already heralded, the giant construct saw land for the first time in its existence. It started to descend and get closer to the water. With a leisure pace it approached the mouth of the river, which was flanked by two steep walls of stone.

It still took him about two hours to get close to Fragrance. He had slowed his speed significantly as he came down on the mouth of the river. Sinking his legs down first and then lowering his body carefully as not to displace too much water. It’s great claws were safely tucked to its side, while the large, blue crystal-like eyes looked in the direction of Fragrance. On the way, he passed by multiple farms and fields, full of purple skinned humanoids, all of whom immediately ducked for cover upon seeing him soar by. Upon reaching the town itself, he found it seemingly deserted - or rather, that was until his eyes took in the scene, which revealed tens upon tens of muscular males, all sporting javelins tipped with long blades of obsidian in one hand and leather shields in the other. They were adorned with armour fashioned from feathers, leather and fur. All of their ears sported thick dots of cotton. Out from behind one of the houses came one singular male, well-toned body barely hidden under a leather harness bolstered with shark skin and bones. He held no javelin, but wielded a flat club with shark teeth running the perimetre around its edge. White teeth gave some light to his dark colour and he spoke, “That’s far enough, foreigner. Speak to us your purpose right this second, or you, too, will know what it means to come unbidden into Fragrance!”

“I have come…in peace.” The men could hear the words booming through the valley. No mouth moved. Instead Duxus spoke through magic. Moving the air to shape the sentence. The tone it assumed was baritone and seemingly vibrating. Words were spoken slow, loud and clear but also seemingly otherworldly. “My purpose… as given by the gods… is to carry those willing to the Omniversity.” His eyes remained unblinking end lidless. “To learn… and then return… and apply. Your city… was chosen by the gods… worthy to attend… at the mist hidden island.”

The nelves exchanged looks, then some burst into laughter. Their leading representative shook his head and smirk. “Okay, okay. Who put you up to this? Was it Fax the Trickster? What is this ‘Omniversity’?”

Duxus remained silent for a moment. He expected many responses. Everything between awe and dread. Never laughter. “I know not…of Fax the Trickster.” He said, as he moved closer. His shape pushed the flowing water around him away. Causing small waves to form and wash onto the banks of the river. “The Omniversity… is a place… of learning. Risen… from the mists of time. Returned… to aid mortalkind’s… minds… and magic.” The soft glow of his eyes grew brighter and more focused. The light fell upon the muscled males as Duxus observed them with more attention.

The light immediately crippled the nelven attitude, everybody immediately covering their eyes and making all kinds of sounds from grunting to squealing. Even the leader recoiled in pain and clutched at his face. “Agh! Cursed-... Nng!” Pausing to tie a length of black silk over his eyes, he slowly, but surely, attempted to reclaim his smug attitude. “I-interesting, stone beast! A-and what must be given in return, then?!” The others were slowly recovering, too.

The stone giant was not blind to the effects his focus had. Quite quickly he diffused the light of his scrutiny again. Allowing his eyes to merely glow once more. “Your time… and dedication.” Duxus answered. “I should warn… It is not… a place for unearned… arrogance.” The men before him, as confident as they seemed, did not strike him as exceptionally curious, studious or creative. Instead his gaze turned towards the city as a whole as he stepped closer still. “Where… are your sorcerers… and inventors… little nelf?” Duxus finally asked as he slowly turned his gaze down to look upon the men that presented themselves to him.

The speaker rubbed his eyes. “You mean the sages? They are already educated! Go away! Leave us a--”

“Lavender! That’s enough. Let me talk to it.” Another male approached, this one dressed in jewelry, silk and fine furs: A lemur pelt had been twisted around his neck; his chest was bare, sporting a many-ringed silver necklace; his arms were sleeved up to the shoulder in black silk, and his nethers and legs were hidden underneath a black silk skirt. He greeted the stone giant with a series of clicks and touched his forehead and belly. “Good night, divine giant - you are welcome here. I am rach Rose, Sovereign of the Fragrance Merchants. Forgive my peers - they were tasked with guarding our home, and to guard is all they know.” He laughed politely. “Now, you mentioned that there are great opportunities to learn and study at this… Omniversity?” His rose perfume oozed forth like a stormfront. “I would very much like to send my youngest two boys to study at your institution. Would they be taught to be great leaders and traders?”

“I see you…rach Rose… of the Fragrance Merchants.” Duxus’ voice echoed through the canyon as he turned his attention towards the well dressed man. With no way of normally smelling, Duxus only saw a bright red miasma hanging around him2. “The Omniversity… teaches many things… your children… would learn the secrets… of nature… how this world… works… and how they can bend it… to their will… Magic… and technology… mind… and might…. How they chose… to apply the skills learned… is for them… and them alone… to decide… the Omniversity… offers tools…alone.” For a second Duxus’ attention returned to the larger whole of the city. “All… are welcome… All… will be tended to… There is food… and beds…enough.” And such was the truth. No doubt representatives of nobles and kings and sovereigns would present themselves. Offer up their children to be schooled. But the poor and the old would also be accepted.

"A proposal we simply cannot reject, I say," thanked the rach. "Please, grant us a night to gather our children and they will be with you by twilight tomorrow." He bowed deeply and clicked.

“Your wish… is granted… and more.” Duxus said, as it once more shifted itself. Moving closer to the shore, eventually beaching its head. The maxillipeds covering its mouth open up, revealing a gate-like structure it had for a mouth. Which also opened. “Inside… you will find… knowledge… about the Omniversity… and quarters… for travel… I shall stay here… for five nights… and five days… all who desire… may enter.” With that said, the glow dimmed, reducing to a mere flicker in the now dull, almost grey-looking rough crystalline eyes. In turn, inside the grooves and lines in the wall and ceiling lit up in a soft blue light. Revealing the great hall beyond.

The rach looked inside and nodded. “Wonderful. Now, everyone! Run home to every rach and his rachfi - tell them of this godsent gift and have them send at least two sons each. Their education shall carry our civilisation into greatness, fueled by the masterful teachings of the Omniversity! Now, disperse!” Swiftly, the nelves all ran back to their masters to share the news. Many of the greater and lesser lords of Fragrance were initially reluctant - their sons should grow up to be dancers and soldiers, not scholars. Scholars weren’t meant to lead, after all, but to counsel. Therefore, some had to be convinced to give up their sons - often in exchange for gifts. Eventually, though, the nelves had gathered up twenty eager and not-so-eager students who were looking forward to start their careers as scholars. They bound cloth over their eyes and stepped inside the giant’s mouth, where they made themselves at home, already steeled for this sort of absence from their parents. At the bank, all the people of Fragrance had gathered, overseeing the event. Spearheading the crowd was rach Rose, flanked on each side by sages, rachs and rachfis. Waving farewell, rach Rose bowed before the giant. “Bring them there safely, great Duxus.”

“You have… my solemn promise… rach Rose… I shall bring… your progeny… safely to… the mist-hidden Isle.” With those final words spoken, the gate-like mouth closed again, and Duxus’ maxillipeds sealed it completely. Inside the children could find their quarter and parlors. With several observation decks allowed them to look through his carapace as if it was made of glass. A soft rumble echoed from the giant stone lobster as it slowly raised itself from the water. Rising higher, and higher, until he was safely above the canyon’s walls. Then he turned gently and floated away on invisible currents towards the Omniversity.

Inside, the children did everything from burst into homesick tears, cheer at their newly claimed freedom, play around aimlessly, or sit quietly in a corner. One of those sitting in a corner, was a small, plum-dark nelfling with recently cut hair and white freckles on her face. As the sounds of the ocean could be heard outside, the nelfling dug its face into its arms.

“Hey!” came a nearby whisper, and the nelfling jump, turning to face a grinning young boy about the same age. “My name is Sage, son of Nilla! What’s your name?”

The nelfling swallowed and looked down. “I-I’m--... T-Timia…”

“Pfft! Timia! What a girly name!” mocked the boy and leaned down further to inspect the other. The nelfling hunkered down further, covering up the face. Sage scoffed. “You’re weird.” Then he ran away.

Timia felt tears well up in the eyes. Mother had been so adamant that the nelfling should venture out to bring the family pride - to bring her pride. It was rare for nelves like Timia to get an opportunity like this. Stealth and concealment of identity was adamant. After all, no one could know that she was a girl.

Summary

Duxus, the flying sentient bus monster of the Omniversity is arriving in Fragrance, where the gently lands in the shallows of the river’s mouth. Lavender and his boyz await him, while everyone seems to be gone. The two go back and forth. The hero doesn’t believe Duxus at first, then asks what the Omniversity is. Their behaviour earns them the scrutinizing eye of Duxus. But soon rach Rose comes in for more diplomatic conversation. The rach decides to summon every other rachs and rachfis. In total 20 children board the monstrous creation before it leaves five days later. We are then introduced to the nelf girl Timia.

Prestigios

10k chars
Lavender 5 + 5 = 10

Divinus: The God RP, Mk. IV

Qael’Naath

&

Sirius

A mere two thousand years ago Qael’Naath would not have imagined he would enter one of his sibling’s realm in name of mortals. Yet in a way, the world created had shrunk and sometimes a mere handful of mortals truly could prove to be of fundamental importance. Even the Great Designs agreed with that now. It was a fact the god of magic had issue facing, ever since he discovered his two daughters. Yet it also made him realize that those who worshipped and praised him in the ways he desired, by using and advancing magic, were worthy to be fight and protect. He did with the Cenél and he would do it again with the people of Anghebad.

Once more he his way through Antiquity, noting that in that strange mid-realm something had seemingly changed. Though he couldn’t truly put his finger on it. There was no time to ponder upon it, though. So he pushed on until he found a portal radiating some familiar energy. He floated through, only to find himself facing a massive stone door. Well, he supposed he could hardly fault Sirius for wanting to keep undesirables out. The god of magic knocked three times on the door, and then awaited the response.

The doors slowly opened, revealing the nothingness of the starry ones domain, parts of its cast in blinding light while others were soaked in the deepest darkness with no gradient between the two. Parts of the darkness soaked into the light and part of the light into the darkness, forming a path deeper into the realm.

“Sirius?” Qael called out. In the vastness he had no real clue where the god of the stars was. And his mana was often rendered useless in the realm of others. Call out was a rather mortal way of drawing attention. But it would suffice for now.

The star god’s whisper echoed, “Yes? I have created a path for you through my realm. But if you wish, we can converse from this distance.”

“Ah, no I was just not sure if you were here or somewhere else.” Qael said, softer. Knowing the god probably heard him. Slowly he floated over the path deeper into the realm.

Following the trail of contrast, there was little of note. A mortal would have difficulties seeing within the realm at all, though a god could notice the bits of space debris appearing and disappearing within the mostly empty void. Sirius floated among the nothingness, turning around to face Qael as she approached, though the way that a person could tell is by the rough-spun cloak he worn and by the geometries of his bipedal form, “Of the all of the gods, I did not expect that you were one for visiting. What brings you to my realm?”

“Anghebad.” Qael said, not wishing to draw this out into a lengthy and odd conversation like he had back with Gibbou, Artifex and the strange new sibling. “Your influence did not go unnoticed, brother.” He was simply stating the facts though, with no real expression in his voice. He let the words hang in the void for a moment.

Sirius replied in his own emotionless whisper as if stating the facts, “Yes. The issue has been resolved. There is no need for any further intervention.”

“There was an issue?” Qael said as he raised his non-existent eyebrow under his hood as he stroked his tentacles hanging from his chin. “The city has fared well even with the encounter of the Labyrinth. It's a prosperous location. I did not see an issue that had to be resolved. At least not by a god.”

“They took something of mine and perverted it.” he said simply.

“Sounds rather...possessive.” The god of magic said. “As gods, is it not our task to offer gifts to the humans?” Magic, the Topaz Texts, the Foci. Gift after gift after gift. With not a prayer expected in return. Was this not the true nature of the gods? Even Cadien offered up gifts to his followers. And even though many of his sibling’s gifts were rather self-centered. Still, none seemed quite so controlling over theirs.

“They may commit their evils with the gifts of the other gods, but not with mine.” Sirius replied, the domain grew ever slightly colder for a mere second when he said it.

“Evils?” Qael was rather shocked to hear such harsh words spoken about one of his more favorite locations. Did he miss some grave sins? Were they abusing magic and hampering its growth? Surely not. Orb would’ve known and told him. Besides, the Winds of Magic were sure to fly over often. Allowing the god of magic a sharper sight of the region. “What evils are you talking about?”

“Slavery. It is sorrowful enough that they should practice it, however to involve my creations within is where intervention was required. However, that has been resolved.” he said, almost expectedly, as if that was where the conversation should end.

For a second the god of magic remained silent. So far Anghebad’s tradition of slavery had been an immense boon to them. In fact, he was considering aiding them in their endeavors. They seemed to agree on the idea that not all mortal life, not even within the same species, was equal. And while one could certainly be born with magical talent, Qael began to see the merit of Orb’s teachings and the institutes the Mystics were creating.

“You say it is resolved, what if some other issue dawns? Will you intervene again?”

Sirius paused, seemingly confused by the question, “If they will not heed the warnings, then what other recourse is there?”

“Leaving them be.” Qael said, with a little force behind his voice. “If you believe your gifts are abused, simply remove them.” But he would not see such a burgeoning center of magic destroyed over something as pretentious as divine morality.

“If you wish for me to remove the entirety of my influence over the region, that can be arranged. Though I do not think you would like the result.” Sirius replied, his voice not betraying its calm demeanor, though the environment itself chilled in response.

He wasn’t here to argue, that would be far too tiresome. He noticed the now rather threatening tone Sirius had taken after a perfectly reasonable suggestion. If the trees were the offending factor, remove the trees. Don’t burn everything around the tree. Though it seemed his brother preferred drastic measures over sensible ones. “My wish is to see the city prosper.” Qael said. “And to tell you that it is protected. By me. I will allow the woods to stay if only to serve as a warning against your influence.” With those words spoken, Qael turned around and moved back towards the stone door and the portal beyond.

Summary

Qael’Naath visits Sirius in his realm to have a quick chat about the mortal city of Anghebad. Around which Sirius created his accursed woods. The god of magic asks the god of the stars why exactly he created those woods. The two have a quick back and forth about the evils of the city and Sirius’ solutions. Ending with Qael stating that it is a place protected by him now but that he will leave the woods as a warning against Sirius’ influence.

MP/DP Spendage

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