Legion02

Divinus: The God RP, Mk. IV

Yamat’s realm looked exactly as Qael’Naath had expected. It was a vast wasteland of jagged rocks and black soot. A dark, pulsing sun offered a rather dreadful light. Left and right the god of magic had noticed the ruins and he wondered which one were of Teperia, and which ones history had claimed. The place reminded him of his daughter’s island back home. Behind the god dust and ash gently blew up. Giving Qael a trail. The god realized the nature of the realm instinctively. Mortals here willing to meet with the god of tragedy would have to sit still for hours before they could even hope to meet him. The god of magic had no such time. “Yamat!” He shouted out, using some degree of divinity to carry the message through whatever barriers might be. “I have come requesting a favor.”

The wind softened and the dust slowly began to settle, the god of magic was left standing there for a few moments of quiet. Before finally another voice spoke out.

”Ah come now Qael, you’re no fun,” Two black arms shot out from the dust nearby, bringing forth four black tendrils, and finally the twisted antlered head and thin and gangly body of the god of tragedy. They crawled up from the soot, dusted themselves off, and gazed upon their sibling. ”What is it you need?”

A thin smile appeared upon Qael’s face, even though it was hidden under tentacles and the shadow of a hood. So far Yamat hadn’t brought tragedy to magic… yet. It was probably an inevitability but for now, the god of magic had no quarrels with his brother. However, the smile vanished quickly nonetheless. Only two of his six eyes were flickering with chromatic colors. Kal, the mortal, was left sitting on a rock in a meditative pose but with no consciousness to speak of. All the attention he could spare was focused here and now. “I’ve come asking you for a favor.” He repeated, softer this time around. “I need a plague.” There was no reason to walk circles around it. But the god of magic gained no satisfaction or pleasure from asking such a thing. His time as a human was beginning to affect him in a way he did not anticipate. It made him understand how to think like a mortal. It made him realize to the fullest extend what he was asking. “I need a plague in the Luminant.”

Yamat couldn’t help but laugh, snapping one of their fingers, suddenly the two were shifted over, a massive twisted wooden canopy covering a table and two chairs. The god of tragedy walked towards it, their gaze still upon the god of magic. ”A plague? In the Luminant? My my Qael I think I have to retract my earlier statement, you’re a lot more fun than before.” They slowly sat within one of the chairs, gesturing towards the other with one of their tendrils, a cup and saucer forming in their hands. ”But, why would you go and ask me for that? Surely you have a good reason?”

Qael took the other chair Yamat motioned towards. His question was a good one. Why didn’t he want to do it on his own? Did he want to distance himself? Pretend like it wasn’t him who caused the illness? Then to whom? Towards Oraelia who would doubtlessly despise the plague and whoever made it? Or would he never be able to look his own daughter in the eyes again, knowing what suffering he would’ve brought? Too many questions, none with answers. “Because none would know how to craft a plague better than the god of tragedy. Am I wrong?” Qael rebutted, with a slight challenge in his tone. “It stands to reason that I would be counting on your discretion. Oraelia still loves the land and the Oraeliari that inhabit it. And while she herself might be as dangerous as a flower, her latest avatar is quite different.”

”I see,” They responded, taking a quick sip of whatever liquid was inside their cup, it seemingly vanishing upon reaching the mask that covered their face. ”I can understand that need, it would not be, the first time I’ve messed with the works of the sun and I can handle her wrath, whatever it is, now of course, I ask another question.” Yamat paused for another moment, taking another sip before continuing. ”Why do you need a plague? And in the Luminant no less?”

Well, it would’ve come up anyway. He leaned in. “I need it because it will become the foundation of my daughter’s empire. And that is why I also need you to give her a way to heal people from that plague.” With those words said he leaned back again and waited for a second. Letting the words hang in the air. “With her healing powers over the plague, people would be forced to flock to her banner. She’d garner power in no time, even for a mortal. That is what I want.” For her, for Soleira. He wanted a white-golden throne in a great palace of an empire whose roads stretched at least all over that colorful realm. She would feed the hungry, give purpose to the forlorn and uplift mortal kind as it should’ve been. And he would give her all of that.

Yamat laughed, a great cackle erupted through the wastes of their realm, sending soot and dirt flying into the great roaring winds. ”Qael my dear,” the director spoke in between breaths of laughter ”You seem to misunderstand, usually, when I create something like a plague, there is rarely if ever a treatment.” They finally composed themselves, allowing their tendrils to wipe away the black sludge that had emerged from their one eye. ”Besides, what's in it for me? I have little care for this daughter of yours or her great empire, there has to be something in it for me.”

The god of magic was just sitting back in his chair. Letting the laughter like a storm wind wash over him. Unaffected really. Getting a plague from Yamat would be easy enough and he knew that. Getting him to give a cure as well, that was the challenge. However, he did not come entirely empty handed. “Tell me, how many lives were lost atop the impenetrable walls of Ketrefa when Auriëlle blew it up? Did you feel it? The exact moment when their sense of superior safety turned into dread when the solid, mountainous stone broke under their feet? Did you feast on their tears? I reckon you did. As much as you feasted upon every defiled altar she sundered. What’s in it for you, you ask? Her. My other daughter’s faithful, eternal service. With my support.”

The god of tragedy mused for a brief moment, swirling around their cup and starting at the sickly green liquid inside. Finally they leaned forward to Qael and spoke ”Why I must admit, the service of your other daughter would be more than useful…’ They let the moment hang within the air, the edge of the great halo behind their head turning a strange red. ”If she were of any worth right now, and not blinded and useless, stuck within your university.” Their single eye gazed upon the god of magic, before they finally slunk back into their chair, taking another sip from their cup. ”You must try better than that my dear, not only will I inviting the wrath of the sun and possibly my closest ally, but creating a treatment does do away with quite a bit of the fun.”

“How insulting of you, my brother, that you think so lowly of my daughter.” Qael said teasingly, hiding the fear Yamat was causing in his gut well enough. “Tell me, do you really think a mortal as tenacious as her will just sit around and accept her fate now? Do you think it was an accident that I placed the greatest sorceress in the world in a treasure trove of magical knowledge? She reached the peak of power she could attain on Toraan some time ago. Now she has to grow beyond that point and the Omniversity is the only place on Galbar where she can achieve that. But sure as prophecy, she will return to Galbar. More powerful than any mortal that has ever existed.”

The god of magic leaned in as well, conjuring a goblet of his own in his hand which he slowly swirled around. “But I understand that to you that is all just speculation.” Qael said. “Yet the fact that you haven’t outright refused means you’ve got at least a price in mind. So, what is it going to take?”

Yamat had to chuckle at that ”Now you’re getting it dear brother, while I’m sure dear Auri will return one day, and I do look forward to it, but, it's going to take more than that.” The god snapped their fingers, causing a map to unfurl upon the table, intricate painted figures were placed at various places around Galbar. Each of their tendrils picked up and put back down many figures, a black reshut wielding a sword, a golden Iskrill wielding a spear, a pale beast with a massive scythe, a reshut and goblin carrying a sack, until finally coming upon a lone figure, many coloured, a human wearing a large floppy hat. ”I’m sure you’re familiar with a certain one of my children?” the tragic director asked, their tendril offering the figure to their sibling.

Qael’s eyes went over the many figures, noting their locations. It would always be useful to know where Yamat’s agents were. There was no doubt in his mind that sooner rather than later trouble would arise in those locations. But when the tendrilled god picked up perhaps the most boring figurine and asked Qael about him, the god of magic just shook his head. “Can’t say that I have.” He admitted rather casually, after which he took a sip of his own golden cup. Which was filled with an amber liquid. “Not all who show a talent for the Arts go noticed by me brother. But do tell me about him. Perhaps he is interesting.”

”This, my brother, is Axin, one of my more, recent, children. He is indeed a user of your magic, though he has some, added effects, courtesy of myself.” They let the tendril slowly deposit the figure back down in its place, near the northern reaches of the garden. ”He is to be, a researcher, while he is still a wanderer right now, once he settles down, I’m sure he will begin testing a great deal of magical experiments and the like, something of which I’m sure you’d be interested in?”

It was no surprise to Qael that Yamat had made some changes to how someone would cast magic. In truth he wondered what took so long. Sure, he hadn’t heard of this Axin but then again, he hadn’t noticed Auriëlle until Oraelia mentioned her. “You have my curiosity brother.” Qael said. “So what do you want me to give him?” He tried to sound as neutral as possible, but deep down was wondering what a child of Yamat could achieve when it came to magic.

”The exact nature of the gift I will leave up to you, but something to aid his more magical endeavors would be nice, I'm sure as the god of magic you will cook something up.” Yamat set their cup down, turning their gaze down upon the map, focusing on the Luminant, and the various angel figures placed around. ”So, in exchange of a plague, the loyalty of your other daughter, and, in exchange of the cure, you aid one of my own endeavors, that seem like a fair trade to you?”

For a second the god of magic just remained quiet. Pondering upon what gift would be appropriate for the mad mage. Well, something that would drive his research for sure. Something to make him obsessed. But not something that would just freely give its secrets. Something that made him work. It should offer a mere glimpse, again and again. Letting the mad one figure out how to use the knowledge gleaned. “A fair trade indeed.” Qael said as he extended his hand to shake whatever Yamat would grace him with.

Yamat extended their own hand, taking Qael’s in theirs, giving it a curt shake. ”It is a deal then.” The god of tragedy then turned back to the map upon their table. They held out one of their hands, allowing dust and soot to settle upon it, with the wave of another of their hands and the glow of the runes upon their skin, the dust took a sickly green colour, almost as if itself had become corrupted by some heinous plague. Their hand then hovered above the Luminant, the single eye of the god of decay looking at their sibling ”Have any preference where it begins? Or shall I just let it all loose?”

“Closest here.” Qael said as he outstretched his hand. Without touching the sickly looking soot a thin, pale light flickered alive near Soleras. It would be close enough so it would be easily killed in its tracks by a doubtlessly overzealous Soleira. But still close enough that she could manage to heal those as it grew. “A plague to make infirm. To sap the strength from all. Rendering them weak and exhausted.” The healing waters would doubtlessly be able to sooth the illness. For a time. Knowing Yamat’s skill though, Qael was sure it would come back. Again and again. Only Soleira’s gift would be sufficient to permanently heal the sick. A faint, melancholic smile formed under his hood. Millions would suffer. Thousands, despite the fact that the plague wouldn’t be lethal, wouldn’t survive because of it. People he learned the name of would suffer. He took no joy in that but it had to be done. For the sake of unifying the Luminant. For the sake of his daughter.

”Very well,” They tipped their hand ever so slightly, letting loose a portion of the soot over the desired spot, the green corruption seeped into the map, slowly establishing itself on the spot. The map itself seem to grow corrupted on the area, turning a horrid pale green akin to the soot that now covered it. ”There we go, give it a while to begin, though Im sure your daughter will realize it before you do.” They pulled their hand back, stopping for a brief moment to allow some more soot to fall from their hand, landing upon a city in the north of the highlands. Yamat then let the rest of the soot fall away into the dust of their realm. ”Now all there’s left is this cure for your daughter, correct?”

The city was not unknown to Qael. He recognized it as a place he visited about three decades ago. Mere minutes to a god. It was the birthplace of Auriëlle. Interesting. The god of magic had no real vested interest in Acadia yet. The Grand Designs did not yet call upon him to aid that area. He turned to face Yamat again. “Yes. Now just the blessing for Soleira. As I will bless Axin.” He said, and the two eyes controlling the Winds flashed for a second. On Galbar, high up in the sky a book was materializing in the sky. Carried by erratic colors towards the World Anchor.

”Yes indeed, have no worry my brother.” They waved their free hand over the area Qael had specified, the runes on their skin glowing for a brief moment. Far below the gods, within the great coloured realm of the luminant, the one known as Soleira felt a strange, almost sickly, feeling wash over her, it lasted mere seconds, almost as if it had been a fluke of the mind. But it held something far greater. ”There you go, your daughter will be the only one to be able to cure that sickness now, though without her help, it will pass, as all plagues do, but, she has the ability. My part of the bargain is done,” They rested their hand back down upon the table, using their other one to take another sip from their cup. ”Do you have anything more you require dear sibling?”

“No… No I think this is plenty.” Qael felt sick suddenly. Sick of having called such a horrible thing upon the people of his daughter. What he had done was necessary. His mind kept telling him that. It was the truth after all. The greater truth. Everyone in the Luminant would be better off in the long term. Yet there were people he knew the name of. Those who came from other villages to trade with Soleras. He took a quick sip of his own drink. Letting it wash down whatever guilt he felt boiling up in his chest. Then he rose up. “Thank you brother. But I must go now. There are… matters to attend to.” And he turned around, heading towards where his divine senses told him the portal back to Antiquity was.

”Of course my dear brother, I hope my services have been, fitting, for your plans.” A cackle rose suddenly from their voice, carried by the dust and wind throughout the wasteland of their realm, it bounced around and invaded every space. Meanwhile a great storm of soot and dust covered the canopy once more, rendering it gone from view. The dust and soot in front of Qael soon formed a path, leading him back towards the portal, away from the wasteland and the horrid cackling.

Summary

Qael comes over to Yamat’s wasteland of a realm to visit and to gain some help from the god of tragedy. After Yamat chiding their sibling for being no fun it’s quickly revealed Qael came to ask for a plague within the Luminant. After some questions from Yamat about why Qael wants a plague, the grand director finally asks what's in it for them. A bit of a back and forth occurs, but the two finally hash out the deal: A plague with Soleira being the only cure in exchange for Auri’s service and a blessing on Axin the Mad Mage. With the deal made Yamat puts the plaque within the Lumniant(And a little bit in Acadia) and blesses Soleira with the sole ability to cure the plague, while Qael sets up a big book to be delivered to Axin in the near future. Qael, a little bit regretting his actions, leaves shortly afterwards, with Yamat cackling all the while.

MP & DP

Qael’Naath Start: 5MP/5DP
-2DP >> Create the Magnonomicon
Qael’Naath End: 5MP/3DP

Yamat Start: 5mp/5dp
2dp-Create the Feathered Bane Plague within the Luminant and bless Soleira as the sole cure
1dp-Put a small amount of the FBP within the city of Acadia
Yamat End: 5mp/2dp

Divinus: The God RP, Mk. IV

It was early in the morning when Auriëlle walked around the Omniversity again. It had to be. The air felt colder on her skin now. Give it an hour or so and it would warm up though. She also knew because there was no noise. Nobody was talking or walking through the halls. Overloading the few senses she still had to navigate around the world. In here she didn’t need the stick to move here. She knew the paths like the back of her head now. Her body moved on its own. Carrying her wherever she wanted to be. However, the further she got from her own bed the further she got from her known world. There were still places in the Omniversity itself she didn’t know like the back of her head.

Right now though, she had mastered the nearest outside gardens and the few plazas there as well. She was making her way towards one of the benches where she could sit and… do nothing really. In the last months, she hadn’t done a thing. She just thought about everything that happened. Would she have done things differently? No. No, not her. Then her mind carried her to Carn. She missed him still. Somehow every day a little bit more. Was he dead? Or was he dead like her? Would she ever hear his voice again? She thought about praying but really, what god would answer her now?

Especially after the revelation. When Oraelia, goddess of light, said she was marked forever as an enemy of light she thought it was just because of all the people she killed. Now it turned out that there was more. For months she had been under the blessing of the god of death himself. She truly was the anthesis of life then. Yet looking back on those months… they were amongst the best of her life. The months before the siege and the months before her reunion were filled with the one thing she loved so much. The feeling she got from razing Teperia was unlike anything. With every raid upon a Ketrefian sided village, she smiled more. If Oraelia had already marked her as an enemy, why not embrace it then?

“Morning… little one.” Auriëlle stopped jumping from unexpected voices. That became to tiresome. But not her body still did, out of pure reaction from the large, bellowing but hollow voice. “You… are awake… early. The sun… is yet… to rise.”

The sun wasn’t up yet? Well, that would explain why everything felt colder. “That’s good to know.” She said as she turned to look up to where the sound came from. She was standing in one of the large plazas. There had been statues here of something but she never figured out what.

“You… do not see… its absence?” The - what Auriëlle guessed to be titanic - creature said.

“I’m blind.” Auriëlle returned as she waved her hand in front of her face. “I can’t even see you. The Sun Goddess took my sight.”

She heard his shape move like stone grinding against stone. It didn’t speak. Instead, let out a soft rumble. “Of course.” It said slowly. “Mortalkind… see with… the goddess’ gift. I had… forgotten. My condolences… for losing… your sight.” Despite everything about it, it sounded gentle.

“Everyone sees with eyes.” Auriëlle noted dryly as she sat down. Might as well, if she was going to talk to a massive thing she couldn’t even sense. “Or with light. But she took that from me. Light will never let me see again. My eyes are fine it’s just… I got cursed.”

“I have… not heard… of her anger.” The titanic creature said. “My master… spoke with… kindness… and compassion… about her.”

Auriëlle scoffed. “You mean she’s so weak she won’t even act until after I slaughtered her followers. And then she just blinds me.” The sorceress wanted to pretend as if everything was okay. As if blindness wasn’t much worse than being dead. You couldn’t feel being dead. It was the end. The finish. One sharp bit of pain and you were gone. She didn’t believe in an afterlife. Blindness though, she had to live with that her entire life now, and it made her weak. So weak. In truth, the goddess had cursed her perfectly.

For a second it was quiet. Auriëlle didn’t mind. But a slight shift signaled the serenity was about to be broken again: “Sight… of light. I ask you… sorceress… how does… the world look… with… light?”

She cocked an eyebrow. “What do you mean? Look around yourself. You’re going to see more than me.”

“Perhaps.” It said. “But not… how you… saw the world. My master… did not gift me… with sight… of light. My… supposed eyes… see the world… differently. Please… indulge… this one’s… curiosity.”

Well, it wasn’t as if she had anything better to do. It would be a welcome distraction from the usual thoughts on a day. “Everything is- was colorful. The plants were green. Treebark's brown. Flowers red and purple and yellow. Things swayed in the wind. Gems glittered in the light. Glittering is like… light sort of broke with them. With the right crystal, you could turn sunlight into rainbow colors.”

The titan grumbled softly. As if he was ruminating on the words. “Tell me… does the world… look solid? Or is it.. diffused?”

“That’s… It’s solid. Everything is solid.” She grabbed her own arm as she held it in front of her. “See this? If I saw, I would know exactly where my arm is. No blurred lines with light sight.”

“Fascinating.”

“You talk as if that’s special. How do you see the world then?” Auriëlle asked.

She heard his body shift again. “I see… the world… differently. Right now… I see you… sweat wafting… off you. Your figure… blurred. I was… told that… mortals… have faces… I have… never seen… faces. Lines… shift. To me… you look… like a cloud… hiding a sun. And your sun… as hidden… as it is… is still… very bright.”

“Sounds… aetheric.” Auriëlle said. Now she was definitely curious. For the first time in months, she felt that siren song. That call to do something. A goal to achieve. Sight through something else than magic. “How did you come to see like this? And what are you actually seeing? Like I know I saw through light, so what do you use?”

“Yes… Aetheric. An accurate… word. I was.. born…like this.” The creature said. “Made… actually. I believe… I see… through… mana. That... which drives… your magic.”

For a second she was disappointed that it wasn’t a skill. But it could be. Nothing said that it couldn’t be. She started focusing and tried to think about seeing the thing before her. Not with light. She had tried and given up three weeks ago on that. Instead, she thought about something else. Like a visible wind flowing over him. Something that would touch his form and return it to her. It didn’t work. Not at the first. The creature kept still and quiet though. Seemingly content to let her try, or it had grown tired of their conversation.

She tried again. This time she heard the rustling of trees. No, too much. She didn’t want wind. She wanted something akin to wind. She wanted the mana in the air to flow, not the air itself. Again. Trees rustled. Again. She heard the wind softly whistling in her ear. Again.

“Maybe… mortals… are not… meant to see… the world… like this.” The figure interjected.

“I don’t care about ‘meant to’. I was meant to lead a crusade against monsters from birth.” Auriëlle said. She tried again. A frustrated gust nearly knocked her over. “Then I was meant to waste away in some cellar writing things down.” She tried again. Wind whistled again. “I was supposed to help people extort people.” She said and tried again. There was no wind now. Her mind focused. “Then I was meant to stay with the man I love.” Did she have to say ‘loved’ now? Wind remained quiet. “I was meant to do many things and I did all the things I wasn’t meant to do. A mortal was never meant to sunder the walls of Ketrefa. I was never meant to work for some thugs in some backwater shithole. Maybe I’m not meant to see the world the way you do. But that won’t stop me from doing it anyway.”

And yet, it didn’t come. The wind remained quiet. In the afternoon there wasn’t so much as a breeze around them. Auriëlle didn’t move though. Skipping lunch, she tried again and again and again. The titanic creature was apparently content to just sitting there and letting her do it. The two of them rare exchanged words now. Until the creature, Duxus, finally spoke up again.

“The sun… is low. You are… weakened… You should… eat… and sleep. Tomorrow is… another day.” The hollow, bellowing sound had become familiar now.

For a second she wanted to sneer, but it- no he, was right. Her stomach grumbled and her mind didn’t want to think about things anymore. She was sure she was close though. So sure that she could see again. “I’m coming back tomorrow.” She said as she got up again, supported by her stick. “You better be here tomorrow. So I can see you. And I will see you, Duxus. That’s my promise. I’m going to see you.”

“I… will be here… for four… more nights. Then… I must go… but I will... return.” Duxus said.

Four nights? Which meant four more days of time. She would find a way to see the way he did in four more days. She was sure of it. Really, how hard could it be to see through magic for someone like her?

Summary

Auriëlle is having an early morning stroll as she ponders upon everything that happened (again). She misses people and then thinks upon the god of death’s gifts in relation to everything else that happens. Accidentally she approaches Duxus. Who is surprised to see anyone awake at such an early hour. Auri doesn’t know what time it even is because she couldn’t see that the sun wasn’t even up yet.

Duxus and her talk a little about sight. Specifically, Duxus asks how mortals saw the world with light. Auri describes it and then asks how the titanic creature saw the world. Duxus describes it and it’s vastly different. He says his mastered created him to see through Mana. Which gives Auri an idea. She tries it as well, or rather she tries to push mana against Duxus and then send back the signals. It’s not working, and at night her body protests too much and she has to go. But she swears she will return to see him.

Prestige

Post Length: 8.9K Characters
+4 Prestige >> Auriëlle

Divinus: The God RP, Mk. IV

Soleira rose up from the river’s waters. Bathing was one of those few indulgences she loved to take. Her white clothes clung to her slender frame. They would dry in the beautiful early morning sun for sure. Today she was early to get herself cleaned though. Kal was already walking towards his rock near the village. People, those who wanted to move the earth like he did, were following him. Soleira hurried over. Right in time to take a place behind everyone, as they spread out before the old man. He shook off his cloak for a moment and then went to stand upright with both palms pressed together. His eyes were closed as he slowly moved his arms up and around in large circles. Every move of his body was slow, careful, meticulous and flowing. Soleira didn’t really get it, and several times she lost her balance or did a move too fast. People around her were better at following Kal than she was but still, she didn’t give up.

Eventually, though, it would appear the old sage had gone through all his moves as he picked up his cloak again. Then he sat down, cross-legged. Some people left then. Others remained and sat down around him as well.

“I suppose you wish to talk about magic.” He said, with a faint smile on his lips. His eyes went over everyone. Though for a moment he locked eyes with her. It seemed to surprise him that she was there, but he then carried on. “Magic is more than simply chanting some words or burning some figures. First, you must know what you are using when you move the world around you.” He took a handful of colorful dirt in his hand and let it slowly crumble in between his fingers. “Mana is what allows all of us to cast magic. It is suffused within everything. Within the dirt that falls to the ground. Within the air you breathe. Within the fires you light. Within the plants you grow. It is everywhere, and that is ultimately what you control. Mana in turn then controls the world. So before you can change the world, you must understand how to control mana.”

“The most straightforward way is through what one would call sorcery.” He said and to prove his point, he hovered his hand over a bit of ground. Without saying a word or even move his fingers in a strange way he raised his palm and the ground beneath it moved in the shape of a palm. Then he looked up and locked eyes with Soleira. “Sorcery is the manifestation of your will. You demand the world to change for you and you don’t care how. To use sorcery your resolve must be unyielding. It requires a certain kind of arrogance to demand the world around you to change yourself. You must stand firm.” Kal rose up. With his left foot he drew an arc around him. Then did the same with his right. Creating a sort of oval in the ground amid which he stood. He took a rather square and squat position.

“Form is everything.” He continued with his lecture. “With the makeshift circle around me, I declare that I will not move from this place. I plan myself here. So when I want the world to change, it must change around me.” As to show it he began to push his hands outwards. The earth around him crept away as if he was pushing it away with his hands. Then he stood upright again and motioned everyone to stand up as well. For some this wasn’t their first lesson. They immediately made the same makeshift circle around themselves and assumed the position. Then they began to push. Some managed to move a little bit of dirt already. Some nearly fell over when they tried to make the circle. Kal just kept a patient but quiet eye over them as they tried to cast their sorceries.

Soleira, as much as she wanted to be a good student, was failing miserably. The making of the circle was easy enough, but when she tried to move the dirt it felt as if it was pushing back against her. She tried to want the world to change around her. Yet she couldn’t summon that supposed arrogance and steadfastness. Her frustrations grew. “Come on.” He said as she pushed forward. Her tongue sticking out the corner of her mouth a little as she tried to concentrate. It didn’t work.

“Remember, sorcery is like a muscle. You must train it.” Kal said at the end of the short lesson. His pupils took heed of his words and then walked away in peace. The sun was rising higher. Soleira’s clothes were dry now. Farmers were heading towards the fields. She would join them, but a clasp on her should by Kal stopped her. She turned around to face him.

“You’re not yet ready.” He said, with a comforting smile. “Someday you might be.”

She returned the smile but shook off his hand on her shoulder. “If I need to be… that hard against the world around me then I don’t think I’ll ever master magic.” With those words spoken, she walked away. Not towards the fields though. She took a few steps towards the hilly region before flapping her wings and letting them carry her there. For the first time, she realized how light she felt, and how effortless she glided through the wind. With barely a breeze moving through her hair. Was that part of magic? Or some other blessing like the shield she could summon.

She was some miles away from the village when she finally landed on the rather high hill with only a few trees on them. In their shadow, she sat down for a second and looked up towards the colorful sky that was dancing above her. Clouds like rainbows moved over her. Casting their large shadows across the hill. They weren’t rooted on the ground, she thought. Clouds were free to float upon the wind. Moving to wherever they wanted. Sometimes they’d moved left then, or right, or not at all.

“Kal says you have to be arrogant to use you.” She said out loud to the mana that probably couldn’t hear her. “But I don’t think that’s right. You don’t need to demand things from people. Or animals. Sometimes you can just ask them. And if they can do what you ask, they usually do. Is it the same with…you? Do you think you would listen to me if I just asked you something?” It felt stupid. But she was alone, so she could be stupid. Stupid and hopeful. She closed her eyes and let her hands move in front of her. As if she was pushing along the air around her. “Mana, if you are listening and hearing me, I would love a bit of wind.”

For a second wind blew around her. Rustling the leaves and her clothes. Before it died down again into nothing more than a very soft, barely noticeable breeze. Soleira, however, shot up with wide eyes. This time she didn’t move her lips but just thought it. She asked the mana to move the air for her. And it did. Amid the strong wind she had asked for, the little Oraeliari was laughing out loud.

That evening she flew back home. Kal sat on his rock again beside the fields. Working his puzzlebox. He had gotten through another layer today. When he saw Soleira though, he put the seemingly half-disintegrating cube down. The seemingly lose parts of it remained, somehow, attached still. “You look happy.” He noted, reflecting her happiness with a smile of his own.

Soleira didn’t speak. Instead she just stopped right in front of him, extended her wings as far as they could and clapped them once towards Kal. A fierce gust of wind, much stronger than what her wings should’ve conjured, blew him almost off the rock. Yet when he sat upright again and gathered his senses he looked at her with a combination of confusion and pure exhileration. “You… you just used magic?” He asked.

“I did!” Soleira exclaimed as she shot forward and hugged Kal. “I did it! I did it!” She repeated several times before she released him.

“So… how did you manage it?” Kal asked as he got up from his rock and grabbed his staff. Pride beamed from his already colorful eyes. For a split second Soleira thought she saw more than just the pride of a teacher for his pupil. Off in the distance though, someone not from the village looked with squinting eyes at the both of them. He had been at the lessons in the morning and now had his eyes on the Oraeliari.

“I just… I asked! I just asked the mana to do this and it did. Instead of you know, demanding it. I just asked.” Soleira answered.

“Remarkable.” There was a sudden, soft glow coming from his eyes. He seemed to be lost in thoughts for a moment before his attention returned to him. “You’ve found a way to surprise, my d- I mean my pupil. Come, come. You must teach me.” The two of them stayed up for hours afterward. People brought them bread and water. When the sun dipped low, nature itself offered illumination. She can Kal kept talking and casting their magic. Exchanging their viewpoints.

Where Kal’s ways were unyielding and demanded strength, Soleira’s way seemed to fall more on flexibility and agility. As the wind itself could blow through narrow crevices or high and unstopped in the skies. They kept talking for hours after sunset though eventually, Kal decided to go to bed. Not Soleira though. She tried to apply her ways to other parts of the world. Sadly rock did not move for her, nor did the plants. She wasn’t giving up though. That night she never got home. Instead, she fell asleep under a tree.

When she woke up she realized several wild cats laid around her. Keeping her warm. They looked so peaceful. Though the second she stirred even a little bit, most jolted up and bolted. No matter, she would thank them later for keeping her warm. She knew where most of them lived around here. However, when she walked home in the dawnlight she was met with Kal.

The sage was surrounded by small, colorful pebbles. He took one in his palm and tightened his hand for a second. When he opened his hand again colorful sand fell from it. Revealing the stone that was rendered into a square. Which he then placed upon Soleira’s wall before taking the next pebble.

“What are you doing?” She asked with playful curiosity.

“Honoring your revelation, of course!” Kal said as he crushed another pebble in his hand and pit on her wall. “You will see what it’ll become.” He said. “You’ll love it!”

Hours later she returned from a day-long working the field. Excited to see what her friend had made. When she finally rounded the corner to her house she was met with a totally transformed front of her house. The thousands of tiny, flat stones had been placed with such care that it showed Soleira. Her wings were extended behind her yet she was floating in the blue sky. One hand outreaching. Glittering pieces of blue-colored obsidian created glitters that seemingly moved around clouds which then moved in the direction of her hand.

“It’s beautiful!” She exclaimed as she once again threw her arms around Kal and hugged him tightly. This time the old man managed to return the hug.

“Anything for you.” And far away in Qael’s own realm, something on Soleira’s island shimmered and shifted. Rocks moved of their own accords until they shaped a mosaic akin to the one on Galbar. Except this one was far more intricate and far grander. Showing Soleira with a grand, sapphire halo and dressed in a dress made of gold. Not just directing the clouds but the rays of the sun and the people below her towards a squat, flat-topped pyramid.

Summary

Soleira’s bathing in the river in the morning and then goes to one of Kal’s magic classes. He teaches people his own philosophy of sorcery. Where it requires strength, unyieldingness, and arrogance. Soleira fails completely at the practice of moving earth and Kal tells her she’s not ready. She says that if she needs to be that hard against the world she’d rather not use magic.

Then she flies off to ponder upon magic and mana. Instead of using arrogance or strength she just sort of asks the mana to make the wind blow around her. And it works! Ecstatically she rushes back to Kal, who is equally surprised by the revelation. They stay up most of the evening discussing the revelation. Then she tries to work her magic on stone. It doesn’t work and she falls asleep outside. Luckily animals love her and keep her warm.

The next day Kal is working on her house. When she gets back from a long day working in the fields she finds the frontage of her house is covered by a mosaic depicting her moving some clouds. In Qael’s own realm another mosaic appears, showing the same scene but grander and with her direction more than just clouds.

Prestige

Post Length: +10K Characters
+5 Prestige >> Soleira
+5 Prestige >> The Conduit
-5 Prestige >> The Conduit: Teach proper sorcery to the people of Soleras (Minor cultural shift)
-5 Prestige >> Soleire: Create soft way of sorcery (Minor cultural shift)

Divinus: The God RP, Mk. IV

Kal sat by the field. His old, frail body broke down some hours ago in the field. Muscles just refused to work anymore. It was tiresome for the god who inhabited him. Something would have to be done about that. Soon. For now though, he relished the spare time he had sitting next to the field while playing with his puzzleknot. Well, the mortal’s puzzleknot technically. The god of magic quite enjoyed playing with his own creations. As he found the personalized challenges quite engaging as he twisted and pushed the parts of the puzzle around. So far he had only opened one layer. He wondered which focus the mortal would’ve gotten. Which role was he destined for in the great designs?

From the corner of his eyes he kept a careful watch on his daughter working with the oxen. The animals loved her, as was evident by the many licks they gave her. She was sweet, nice, kindhearted. It worried him still. A queen had to be just but stern as well. An empress even more so. Her heart would have to be steeled. Somehow.

“Soleira!” A kid hollered from the village. The farmers stopped their work. “Soleira!” The kid repeated as he came to the edge of the field. He was out of breath but still tried to shout: “People! From the south! They’re… They’re coming!” Farmers started to look at each other. Fearful and confused. Soleira handed one of them control of the ard and said her goodbyes to the oxen that pulled it. Then took to the skies and headed south.

Qael really needed to do something about the frail body of this mortal. It made walking tiresome. Still, he made his way due south. Soleira was waiting some distance ahead of the village. Birds were flocking to the skies. Forming black clouds ready to descend upon whatever had entered their domain.

“Who do you think they are?” Soleira asked the mortal she knew as Kal as he finally arrived. Her eyes were still trained on the small dots in the far off distance. Dots that moved closer though.

“No way of knowing unless you ask.” Kal said with a smile she couldn’t see. He saw the worry on her body though. She looked tense. Had raiders tried to attack her people before maybe? He didn’t know. Maybe he should ask someday.

The strangers came closer. They saw three oxen, loaded with sacks. An older man rode a donkey. He looked older than Kal even. In front of the tiny caravan, an middle aged man with a very full beard walked, clutching a staff that looked like it had beaten some animals on the snout before. A few sheep were walking beside them as well. When they were about a hundred meters away, the leader of the group stopped them, and walked forward alone.

“Hail, Soleira. Queen of Soleras.”

Kal could guess her thoughts: she wasn’t a queen.

“I am Ashekan. This is my family.” He introduced them all but two by name and pointed off in the distance. Though kept away from Soleira. Clear as not to appear as a threat. “We have come…” The words were stuck in his throat for a second. “We have come to… beg for a life here.”

“Where are you from?” Soleira asked.

“We have come from the waters south. But the war… the anger. It’s not safe there.” The man said. “Me and my family decided to find a better place to raise our children. They deserve a better life.” The man lowered himself to his knees. Slowly, and with the help of his staff. “I beg of you, Queen Soleira. Allow us to live here.”

Soleira, however, was already looking past the man and at the caravan. That slowly stepped forward out of curiosity. She saw people that didn’t look like the others. Their heads were shaven clean and they kept staring down at the ground. Each had a rope attached to their arm, leading to one of the oxen. “Who are they?” Soleira asked.

The man, confused, looked up. “Those are our slaves, my lady?”

“No…” She said, as she stepped forward. Passing the man without fear. People were taking a step back from the caravan. Afraid of why she suddenly stalked forward. The slaves almost shook in their place. “You’re not slaves anymore.” She said as she took the ropes off their arm. “We don’t keep slaves here in Soleras.”

“But… My lady.” Ashekan said as he came trailing after her. “We have bought these men. They are criminals. They are… They are our slaves?”

She turned to face the man. “Not here. Not in Soleras. Here they are the same as you and I. If they commit a crime, they’ll be punished but I refuse to have my people be slavers.” She turned to the men again. “You are free in Soleras. Go ahead. Make your homes here. Serve the Light, and the people here will help you with food and shelter.”

The two of them muttered their thanks before scurrying away towards Soleras. Trying to get as far away from their former owners as possible.

Ashekan was frowing. Crows and hawks were still high in the air. Their flight pattern became erratic and agitated. Even from a distance Kal could see him doubting the decision to come here, so he stepped forward. Conjuring some of the bread he kept in his cloak. He passed Ashekan and Soleira and approached the mother. “Here. The first gift of Soleras. Nobody goes hungry here.” He said with a smile. One the mother returned. Mortals were so easy to convince. Give them food and they will follow you to the end of the world. Behind him, Ashekan was already softening again.

~

“They’re calling you Daughter of the Sun now.” Kal said as he sat against rock, toying with his puzzlebox. Soleira was just approaching, and cocked an eyebrow up. She was quickly realizing there was more to Kal than he seemed to admit. For one, he was clearly a talented mage but there was more. Nobody just rode around half the world atop a massive, white, flying lion just to visit some place in the middle of nowhere. There had to be a hundred more mythical places between here and the frostlands.

“Are the now?” Soleira said as she sat down with a piece of bread and some berries. The colorful trees gave some much needed shadow from the burning sun high up. Most of the work these days had to be started before dawn now. Not that she minded. It was a selfish delight to lounge in the afternoon heat but it was a delight none the less. “Well I guess its true. Oraeliara did make all of my kin.”

“That’s not what they mean.” Kal put the puzzlebox down again and looked over the various shadowy spots around the fields. There were a lot more farmers now. Each producing much more food. Some had even traded the hoe for the one earth spell Kal had taught them. They were reverent though. “They praise you. Sure, you and your kin are all children of Oraeliara, but they’ll only call you Daughter of the Sun.”

The two remained in relative silence as they ate. Mostly they just enjoyed the warmth. Until Soleira spoke up again: “A lot of people are starting to look up to you as well. These people never knew much magic. They rarely used it even when I just arrived. But your spell has made working the land a lot easier.”

A soft smile formed on Kal’s lips. “I’m here just to serve. Your people should know their full strength. As should you.”

Soleira stopped correcting him whenever Kal said ‘your people’. After she released the slaves of those first few refugees she stopped pretending like she wasn’t here to care for them. “I can’t do magic. None of my kin can.” She said, looking at Kal and then down at the ground. “It’s for the better. It would just be used in the war. They’re already abusing the light of my mother to harm each other. I couldn’t imagine what they’d do if they could set the world against each other.” Yet she felt that pang of jealousy. In the last year, with Kal’s presence, she had grown intrigued by magic. Especially because of how much it was now helping her grow Soleras.

“You’re right. You’re right. Your kin would use the gift for war and murder. Perhaps that’s the reason why they never got it.” Kal said. “But you have.” And then he took a sip of his water.

Soleira turned to face him. “I’m still an Oraeliari. I can’t do magic.”

“When you fly, do you go faster? Do you feel lighter than you should?” Kal asked with a very casual tone. “Do you feel the hard winds against you when you fly into them?”

For a minute Soleira was quiet. She flapped her wings a few time to feel the brush of the air around her. She never thought about it, but yeah. She did feel lighter and she did fly faster than any of her kin. Was it magic? Or just the fact that she has two pair of wings instead of one? So far Kal hadn’t been wrong when it came to magic. If someone would know… “How do I learn how to control it?”

“You can’t. Not yet.” Sorcery required a certain kind of arrogance. It demanded the world to change for you regardless of your own knowledge about it. Fundamentally sorcery was about altering the reality around you to suit your own desires. He looked upon Soleira and he saw someone utterly devoid of such arrogance. Qael’s daughter had always bend herself to the world. He got up and put a hand on her shoulder. “Someday you’ll be ready to learn.”

Summary

Kal is sitting beside the field keeping an eye out. A kid runs up to the field yelling to Soleira that strangers have come. She flies up to meet him. Kal finds her before though, on the southern edge of Soleras. The strangers introduce themselves as refugees. But they bring two slaves. Soleira, upon seeing them, frees the slaves and tells the refugees that in Soleras, there are no slaves or slavers. Just people who are equal to each other. Tensions rise for a split second until Kal offers food the mother of the family, telling them that in Soleras, nobody goes hungry.

Later Kal and Soleira are musing in the shadow for their lunch. Kal tells her people refer to her as Daughter of the Sun. Soleira quickly points back the conversation to Kal, saying many are grateful for him and the one magic spell he taught the people. Upon which he simply says all people should know their full strength. Including her. Soleira says Aiviri cannot perform magic, and says she’s happy because of that. They are already abusing the light to harm each other, the destruction they’d wrought would be worse should they know how to put the world itself against each other. Kal agrees, but still maintains Soleira is blessed with magic. She asks how she could control it, but Kal says she isn’t ready for that yet.

Prestige

Post Length: 8.9K Characters
+4 Prestige >> The Conduit
+4 Prestige >> Soleira

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

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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