Lord Zee
Vec
Rekkuza
Iwannabeyours
princess
Cmmelody
Necrodancer
ActRaiserTheReturned
TimemasterNot a thing upon the mortal world nor the high heavens could’ve missed it. A continent shook. Divinity bled. The earth bore a scar. It was an awful thing. A sun-bleached hellscape where no life could ever survive. White, desolate sands. Dunes of glass. In the distance, Qael’Naath could see the petrified remnants of what would’ve been mortals. Their lives eternally sealed within their last expression. Yet the wind blew as tranquil and serene as it always had. Oblivious of what it swept over. The Winds of Magic had coalesced once more in a denser form. With enough imagination, one could imagine it looked like Kal. The Conduit was fast approaching atop his leon. Mortal eyes and mouth that may be much needed. Even though this hellscape was not suitable at all for him. That would have to be solved but only when the issue came up.
For now, the perceived immortal being that was Qael’s avatar floated forward. Into the dunes and white sands. Into the scorching heat. The god of magic registered it but nothing more. Heats continued to climb. Then, from the white sands came small things. Creatures that looked familiar. Dozens of them came to attack the Winds but could barely reach him. One found himself lifted up and floated in front of the Winds. “What are you?” Qael’Naath asked out loud. The question carried upon the air of Galbar as well. The creature in his magical hold twisted and turned. Its form was so very familiar. Though he quickly lost interest when he felt the cheer lack of magical affinity within the creature. He tossed it, and it crumbled instantly.
He carried on. Deeper into the oppressive heat. Far beyond what most mortal life could walk through and live. Then he passed into even hotter places. Where patches of the white sand were replaced by glassy ponds. Deeper in the ponds became lakes. And deeper still Qael felt the oppressive heat that could not and should not be upon Galbar. And there in the central crater, he found the first being not made out of glass and sand.
A tall and winged humanoid in the shape of a woman, with shimmering black and blue wings - reminiscent of the winged aiviri of the Luminant, but with long horns that set her apart from the mortals that dwelled in the south. Furthermore, she radiated divinity and the essence of one Qael had sensed many times in the past. The mother of the neiyari - the ‘love’ goddess. It was not hard to deduce that this being was a servant of the goddess, not to mention she appeared as undisturbed by heat and glass that Qael’s vaguely humanoid Wind-shape was. She bobbed up and down in the air with powerful beats of her wings, cutting and slicing through the occasional fragile being that came charging at her through whipping dusts and rising from old piles of glass.
To help her on this constant crusade was a long, golden blade - seemingly liquid and solid at the same time. It too radiated a blinding amount of divine essence, a considerably more familiar one. It felt angry, as if the blade itself was driven by an endless anguish and rage. The winged woman swept it briefly towards a small creature, and the mindless glass wraith disintegrated and melted from pure heat, despite already being native to an endless expanse of intolerable heat. The blade was unnatural to Galbar - to Antiquity - even to a deity’s own realm, and it didn’t seem like something she would have created. It seemed like something more. An echo of what had once been.
The god of magic stood stunned in his own realm as he watched the woman slaughter. Pieces in his mind fell in place. The crater he had found her in was awash with a particular divine essence he had felt before. It, however, was merely an echo of what had happened here. The blade she wielded though, was burning with the power of the sun itself. A realization came to him. Solus he was called. Something he had glimmered from Soleira’s mind. A protector. A guardian. An avatar of the sun itself.
“You!” He said. The air carried his voice through Galbar. Making it sound storm-like. The physical body of the Winds floated closer. “What have you done!?”
The woman righted herself in the air, turning to settle a gaze on Qael'Naath's avatar that seemed to carry nothing but aggressive disdain. After a long bout of silence, she pointed the long blade in his direction, and it dripped of slag metal as it lingered in the scalding air. He saw it seemed to have affected her as well, long golden cracks glowing down the skin of the hand and arm she used to hold the hilt. They pulsated with the blade itself, almost as if it was spreading to the rest of her. Her voice boomed in turn across the desolate landscape, arrogant and haughty. In it he could sense an attempt to twist his mind and sow fright - nothing that affected a divine being. "All I have done is finish what I started decades ago. Be happy that the tyrant of the Sun will never again leave his blighted stain on our world,” she spoke before pausing, regarding Qael’s avatar with renewed focus. Her eyes narrowed to slits, and the blade lifted ever so slightly. ”You stink of mana. Kneel before me now, and you may yet be made to serve your purpose."
Something crackled over the Winds body. Then it shifted, growing taller. Though clearly more evanescent. He outstretched his hand towards her. “Hand over your weapon.” The winds storm-like voice became booming like thunder. It was dangerous beyond belief. A weapon that could harm the sun’s divinity should simply not exist. Until they found a way to extract Solus’ essence and perhaps reshape him, it could not be destroyed either. But there was just no way Qael would allow it to exist within the divine realms. It had to remain on Galbar. In the sole place where it would be kept safe.
First, though, he would have to break through the megalomania of this other avatar. But he was a god. And in the end, all avatars would understand they stand no chance against the full powers of divinity. “Hand it over, and I will allow you to live.”
The winged avatar scoffed sharply, a cutting breath to go with her disgusted frown. "It is war, then." she declared with a malicious finality. Her wings shimmered and moved, and without further warning the divine woman dove straight towards Qael'Naath's tall form with no apparent regard for his imposing power and threats. The blade sung through the air, as molten metal seemed to heat the very particles in the dry atmosphere. The liquid blade swung in an arc as she charged, aimed straight in an attempt to decapitate, with swathes of slag launching in the aftermath as the blade passed. She attacked to kill, that much was clear.
The winds moved. Human instinct. The influence of Kal took over for a moment. In truth Qael’Naath did not expect to be hit. Not in such an ethereal form. It was that mortal aspect that he had bound with that was having at first assumed unfortunate effects on him now.
Then the blade bit.
It did not pass harmlessly through the Winds’ ethereal form. The slash tore through his avatar’s form. Separating divinity from its source. The ripped clouds spawning from the wound coalesced together. Turning into glistering purple and blue rain that fell upon the Glass Wastes.
At first, the god did not understand. The winds were incorporeal. Untouchable. Yet the blade, already dangerous enough, was stronger still. He even felt the sensation back in his own realm. He touched his chest. Luckily there was no wound. While on Galbar the Winds recoiled. Shifting and shattering like ice before reforming higher up. “I will say this one last time. Surrender the blade or perish.” His voice now a full-blown storm as the clouds were pulled by the ever-growing vortex of mana.
Aveira did not appear to listen; for the aggressive winged avatar, the time for talking was over save for a quick and furious "Die, cur!" Either mad, overconfident or truly fearless, she sneered at Qael'Naath's presence with a haughty, utter disdain unfitting for a lesser being. Giant wings beat again and flung the horned woman forward to drive the molten blade in a rushing attack straight for the vague humanoid shape's centre of mass. The air steamed and hissed as the blade singed and set fire to dust and oxygen, and the lethal golden tip shot forwards in a violent and confident stab.
Something flashed. Qael’Naath fell down to his knees in his own realm. The connection with the Winds severed. Down on Galbar Kal collapsed as well. On the ground he felt as if he could barely breathe. Both of them clutched their robes. Qael’s felt wet. He looked down to see the old wound from which he had carved out Qull was bleeding with raw divinity again.
The Winds pierced by Requiem raged and shrieked around the blade. Where it once looked controlled and humanoid it now looked animalistic and violent. Raging against everything around it. The piercing blade kept a hold of it. But it was fighting with the powers of a hurricane. Lashing at Aivera and the blade. Until it was finally free. Only to be shackled again by a desperate Qael’Naath. Who did not wait a second to get his mutilated avatar away.
Leaving the vortex of power he had summoned behind. Still coiling over the center lands of the Glass Wastes. The mana, uncontrolled and without purpose, lashed out in the air around it. In certain areas an all freezing wind blew and vanished again. Other places the natural light of the sun became a searing heat. The sand and stone moved and quaked on its own. Gale winds could whip up and appear out of nowhere, and be silenced just as quickly. It became an even more unpredictable, lethal land.
The winged woman gave chase behind Qael'Naath's avatar for a handful of moments, but even her massive wingspan was no match for the endless flexibility and speed of the Winds. She became a blur on the horizon that mixed with the heat waves boiling the air, and eventually could no longer be said to be giving chase. For better or worse, the horned avatar, and her lethal blade, remained somewhere in those hostile wastes. Slowed and kept occupied by worsening weather and growing volatility. Hopefully.
For now, the perceived immortal being that was Qael’s avatar floated forward. Into the dunes and white sands. Into the scorching heat. The god of magic registered it but nothing more. Heats continued to climb. Then, from the white sands came small things. Creatures that looked familiar. Dozens of them came to attack the Winds but could barely reach him. One found himself lifted up and floated in front of the Winds. “What are you?” Qael’Naath asked out loud. The question carried upon the air of Galbar as well. The creature in his magical hold twisted and turned. Its form was so very familiar. Though he quickly lost interest when he felt the cheer lack of magical affinity within the creature. He tossed it, and it crumbled instantly.
He carried on. Deeper into the oppressive heat. Far beyond what most mortal life could walk through and live. Then he passed into even hotter places. Where patches of the white sand were replaced by glassy ponds. Deeper in the ponds became lakes. And deeper still Qael felt the oppressive heat that could not and should not be upon Galbar. And there in the central crater, he found the first being not made out of glass and sand.
A tall and winged humanoid in the shape of a woman, with shimmering black and blue wings - reminiscent of the winged aiviri of the Luminant, but with long horns that set her apart from the mortals that dwelled in the south. Furthermore, she radiated divinity and the essence of one Qael had sensed many times in the past. The mother of the neiyari - the ‘love’ goddess. It was not hard to deduce that this being was a servant of the goddess, not to mention she appeared as undisturbed by heat and glass that Qael’s vaguely humanoid Wind-shape was. She bobbed up and down in the air with powerful beats of her wings, cutting and slicing through the occasional fragile being that came charging at her through whipping dusts and rising from old piles of glass.
To help her on this constant crusade was a long, golden blade - seemingly liquid and solid at the same time. It too radiated a blinding amount of divine essence, a considerably more familiar one. It felt angry, as if the blade itself was driven by an endless anguish and rage. The winged woman swept it briefly towards a small creature, and the mindless glass wraith disintegrated and melted from pure heat, despite already being native to an endless expanse of intolerable heat. The blade was unnatural to Galbar - to Antiquity - even to a deity’s own realm, and it didn’t seem like something she would have created. It seemed like something more. An echo of what had once been.
The god of magic stood stunned in his own realm as he watched the woman slaughter. Pieces in his mind fell in place. The crater he had found her in was awash with a particular divine essence he had felt before. It, however, was merely an echo of what had happened here. The blade she wielded though, was burning with the power of the sun itself. A realization came to him. Solus he was called. Something he had glimmered from Soleira’s mind. A protector. A guardian. An avatar of the sun itself.
“You!” He said. The air carried his voice through Galbar. Making it sound storm-like. The physical body of the Winds floated closer. “What have you done!?”
The woman righted herself in the air, turning to settle a gaze on Qael'Naath's avatar that seemed to carry nothing but aggressive disdain. After a long bout of silence, she pointed the long blade in his direction, and it dripped of slag metal as it lingered in the scalding air. He saw it seemed to have affected her as well, long golden cracks glowing down the skin of the hand and arm she used to hold the hilt. They pulsated with the blade itself, almost as if it was spreading to the rest of her. Her voice boomed in turn across the desolate landscape, arrogant and haughty. In it he could sense an attempt to twist his mind and sow fright - nothing that affected a divine being. "All I have done is finish what I started decades ago. Be happy that the tyrant of the Sun will never again leave his blighted stain on our world,” she spoke before pausing, regarding Qael’s avatar with renewed focus. Her eyes narrowed to slits, and the blade lifted ever so slightly. ”You stink of mana. Kneel before me now, and you may yet be made to serve your purpose."
Something crackled over the Winds body. Then it shifted, growing taller. Though clearly more evanescent. He outstretched his hand towards her. “Hand over your weapon.” The winds storm-like voice became booming like thunder. It was dangerous beyond belief. A weapon that could harm the sun’s divinity should simply not exist. Until they found a way to extract Solus’ essence and perhaps reshape him, it could not be destroyed either. But there was just no way Qael would allow it to exist within the divine realms. It had to remain on Galbar. In the sole place where it would be kept safe.
First, though, he would have to break through the megalomania of this other avatar. But he was a god. And in the end, all avatars would understand they stand no chance against the full powers of divinity. “Hand it over, and I will allow you to live.”
The winged avatar scoffed sharply, a cutting breath to go with her disgusted frown. "It is war, then." she declared with a malicious finality. Her wings shimmered and moved, and without further warning the divine woman dove straight towards Qael'Naath's tall form with no apparent regard for his imposing power and threats. The blade sung through the air, as molten metal seemed to heat the very particles in the dry atmosphere. The liquid blade swung in an arc as she charged, aimed straight in an attempt to decapitate, with swathes of slag launching in the aftermath as the blade passed. She attacked to kill, that much was clear.
The winds moved. Human instinct. The influence of Kal took over for a moment. In truth Qael’Naath did not expect to be hit. Not in such an ethereal form. It was that mortal aspect that he had bound with that was having at first assumed unfortunate effects on him now.
Then the blade bit.
It did not pass harmlessly through the Winds’ ethereal form. The slash tore through his avatar’s form. Separating divinity from its source. The ripped clouds spawning from the wound coalesced together. Turning into glistering purple and blue rain that fell upon the Glass Wastes.
At first, the god did not understand. The winds were incorporeal. Untouchable. Yet the blade, already dangerous enough, was stronger still. He even felt the sensation back in his own realm. He touched his chest. Luckily there was no wound. While on Galbar the Winds recoiled. Shifting and shattering like ice before reforming higher up. “I will say this one last time. Surrender the blade or perish.” His voice now a full-blown storm as the clouds were pulled by the ever-growing vortex of mana.
Aveira did not appear to listen; for the aggressive winged avatar, the time for talking was over save for a quick and furious "Die, cur!" Either mad, overconfident or truly fearless, she sneered at Qael'Naath's presence with a haughty, utter disdain unfitting for a lesser being. Giant wings beat again and flung the horned woman forward to drive the molten blade in a rushing attack straight for the vague humanoid shape's centre of mass. The air steamed and hissed as the blade singed and set fire to dust and oxygen, and the lethal golden tip shot forwards in a violent and confident stab.
Something flashed. Qael’Naath fell down to his knees in his own realm. The connection with the Winds severed. Down on Galbar Kal collapsed as well. On the ground he felt as if he could barely breathe. Both of them clutched their robes. Qael’s felt wet. He looked down to see the old wound from which he had carved out Qull was bleeding with raw divinity again.
The Winds pierced by Requiem raged and shrieked around the blade. Where it once looked controlled and humanoid it now looked animalistic and violent. Raging against everything around it. The piercing blade kept a hold of it. But it was fighting with the powers of a hurricane. Lashing at Aivera and the blade. Until it was finally free. Only to be shackled again by a desperate Qael’Naath. Who did not wait a second to get his mutilated avatar away.
Leaving the vortex of power he had summoned behind. Still coiling over the center lands of the Glass Wastes. The mana, uncontrolled and without purpose, lashed out in the air around it. In certain areas an all freezing wind blew and vanished again. Other places the natural light of the sun became a searing heat. The sand and stone moved and quaked on its own. Gale winds could whip up and appear out of nowhere, and be silenced just as quickly. It became an even more unpredictable, lethal land.
The winged woman gave chase behind Qael'Naath's avatar for a handful of moments, but even her massive wingspan was no match for the endless flexibility and speed of the Winds. She became a blur on the horizon that mixed with the heat waves boiling the air, and eventually could no longer be said to be giving chase. For better or worse, the horned avatar, and her lethal blade, remained somewhere in those hostile wastes. Slowed and kept occupied by worsening weather and growing volatility. Hopefully.
