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Lord Zee male Member

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In Divinus: The Deity Roleplay Mk. VI → 2 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Journeys VII - End


It was pain that drove him. Away from it all… No wait- he had to be somewhere. Where was it? Memories flashed before his vision, clear as day. A maddened, white haired girl, clawing out his stomach, feasting upon his flesh. He wanted to scream but his throat felt dry. He was so thirsty, so terribly thirsty.

Viho glided now, midday sun bearing down upon him with indifference. Truth be told, he always knew he was never going to make it back to Keltra. No… He was nowhere now. The only place he was going was the faintest smell of water that had drifted to him, way back when. Now he was coming towards a small body of water. A pond? A lake? It didn’t really matter, long as he quenched his thirst. A small comfort before the end.

He landed with a thud and skidded before the sandy banks. The water lapped at the shore, fresh and sweet. He opened a crusty eye, blinking back debris. He was so close. So painfully close. He used his good wing to pull himself forward, well, at least he thought so. He was getting just a little closer… Just a wing length away. Oh how delicious it would be. Just had to keep going. Yes… But Viho’s eyes began to close. The last of his strength spent, the last of his icy bandages melted.

It was over.

He sighed, it hadn’t been a very good time.

In Divinus: The Deity Roleplay Mk. VI → 2 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Revenant’s Veil




Zima landed back upon the hill in the morning. There was nothing to be seen save animals all around them, here and there. She once saw a faint trail of smoke but it vanished before she could find the source and with her mind running wild with thoughts, she gave up searching. As her feet touched the ground, blackening it, she knew two things as a certainty. One, those against them were many and she and Fear, who could not truly be trusted, were alone. Two, those that had come before them, the god of Hunger, Viho the owl champion and now this Grimm, had all been unexpected. She knew soon enough Fear’s sister’s would come to hunt her down, whether tasked or not.

What could be done? How could she cement her power evermore? Grimm had alluded to raising the dead but this did not truly appeal to her. Perhaps… She knew not if her destiny was to be opposed so openly by so many, or if she was supposed to take a more secretive role. Her allies were so few and her enemies were often backed by the very Gods. She had no such benefactor, an awareness that she found to be only angering. To strike at the heart of champions could only bring higher powers to bay. Was she willing to accept such consequences? She could not die… But she could be imprisoned.

Should this bother her? Was she not meant to bring about sorrow and suffering untold? She had destroyed the Voirans and their wretch of a God had done nothing to her in retaliation. But that was a dangerous line of thought. She sighed and looked out over the open plain. Such an empty land. Even if she had learned to raise life in a deathly state, there was nothing around here to let her do so. Why did it have to be undead? Dead meant the soul would still go to the afterlife but what if… She outstretched her hands and looked at them.

What if she was the solution she was looking for?

Was she not the perfect state of being? Unable to die, unable to live in such a flawed life? She had tried to spread it already, she had been almost successful but Fear was a champion and not so easily corrupted. Other life? Well… She balled her fists, a rare smile forming on her lips.

Wolfish.

She would spread her suffering by not just corrupting the land but the people, the life that subsisted off it and she would forever mar all souls. It did not matter if she could be stopped for she would leave a legacy, as Grimm had said, and none would ever forget her terror. She would destroy her enemies regardless, they would always fail fighting her. For she could not be beaten so easily. Zima laughed a heartless chuckle. She felt no warmth and no emotional response but she knew how to laugh.

She clasped her hands and sighed, then spun around to find Fear. Fear would be the first to fall and it would not take much more to truly blacken her flame. Perhaps this push was all that was needed…

Fear remained silent and still, as if she slumbered where she stood, until her gaze languidly turned to Zima, haunted eyes flickering first, and then the rest of her features shifted to face her. Yet Fear said nothing.

“Only animals prowl this land. Maybe a passing mortal here and there. Honestly, I’m not sure what the Lord of Hunger was thinking trying to spread this parasite here. But all he said was past the desert and we obliged. Now, has it grown?” Zima looked past her with narrow eyes, towards the spot. Truth be told she had no idea how long she had been gone.

Fear simply turned and gestured to where a small red plant had sprouted from the earth, slowly growing in the short time after they had buried it. It was unknown how much longer it would take until the sprout became whatever it was meant to be, and currently the greatest danger to it would be any animal foolish enough to mistake it for sustenance.

Zima frowned and looked back to Fear. “You’re still Pride, aren’t you?”

Pride, who had remained in control of Fear’s body, nodded, and the signs became more apparent with that affirmation; the way she stood and stared at Zima with a firm stance and keen eyes which was unlike her previous mien. The last of Fear’s sisters that Annoyance sought to overwhelm still held her position before she spoke in her childlike voice. “I am. This is the first time we’ve met, but I’ve heard a lot about you, and our time together while I was a prisoner within my sister’s body has said so much more.”

Zima stood a little straighter and folded her arms across her chest. “You may exist outside of Fear, back at Keltra, but right now you are only a fragment of her mind or memory. One that is trying to battle the corruption within her and slowly failing.’ She smirked. “You are not her sister, you are Fear. I wish to speak to you properly, not Annoyance or any other personality that you’ve created to defend herself. If you cannot do that Fear, I will come back inside.”

“If you wished to speak with Fear, you should not have hurt her all this time. You’ve done nothing but inflict cruelty upon her and now she seeks death, an end to her suffering. Why should she hear you? Your threats are bluster, and your presence is sickening. I’m tempted to leave you in your disgrace now, but that would be rude. His grace tasked us with watching over his seed after all. Now, what will you do?” Pride asked, tilting her head as she peered forward and the shifting symbols of the Gnosis manifested on her skin.

Zima scowled, anger boiling. Who was this persona to mock her so? What gave her the right to speak in such a manner? Her hands dropped to her side, balled and shaking. She stared daggers at Fear and then hissed, “What I should have done when we first met.” And then in an instant, she was upon her, gripping her arms with claws. She growled and then made them tumble together down the hillside. Suddenly Fear was ablaze with those accursed flames and in a swift and unseen motion, the two of them were high above the land as they ascended with a thunderous boom.

As the wind whirled by, Fear struck with her knees and fought to free herself from Zima’s grasp, and it became immediately evident that the power of Fear differed from the rest of her sisters. She hit with the strength of a colossus, so much more mightier than any blow Zima had endured at the hands of Homura’s other champions, and her strikes ignited the air around them. Despite the roar of flames and tumultuous clamor of hundreds of attacks as Fear kicked and lashed out with her head, that haughty voice of this defiant persona was loud and clear. “Chailiss has abandoned you! Mish has abandoned you! Now I’ll abandon you! I’m seeing a pattern!”

The two came to the bottom of the hill, breaking apart from the force of the landing. It took several seconds for Zima to come to terms with the beating she had endured. It was unlike the others. This Pride… Oh this Pride. She stood up, turning to ash that which she touched, eyes ablaze as she found Fear. “Finally,” She breathed, “One of you has a fighting spirit!” Like the wind, Zima danced towards her, unleashing her own punches upon her defiant slave.

Was it good or ill fortune that she had seemed to have deprived the Holy Quintet of the strongest among them, as Fear fought with twice the strength of Courage and Kindness combined, and was twice as difficult to land a blow against. With mere steps, Fear flew through the air and in a brief period they were already too far to perceive where the stone outcropping marked the site of where the sprout would grow, having come close to where the lands were shrouded beneath the ring of darkness.

Her prey ceased fleeing, and hastily touched the earth causing massive spires of ice to arise which added another layer of obstacles that Zima faced. More and more pillars and formations, creating a palace of ice wherein Fear hid. If Zima had been at all phased by any of it, her reply was just as tremendous as the ice palace; She flung herself into them all, like a comet of black fire, shrieking like a terrible wind as ice shattered all around them, becoming naught but dust. “You cannot hide from me!” Zima shouted, crashing into more pillars as ice fell in resounding explosions. “FACE ME!” she roared.

There was a whoosh of wind from behind her, as Fear descended from above yet did not attack. Instead she held up one hand, and it became apparent that she no longer possessed two, as the other icy appendage had separated from her wrist and was now joined with an unfamiliar blue amulet that the defiant champion had worn throughout their travels together. “Hear my prayer, Chailiss! Your stray daughter shall be sealed again!” Pride proclaimed, as she came closer, gliding with wings of light and a white fiery aura that glittered like snow beneath the sun.

Awareness dawned upon Zima’s features, eyes going wide. No… She had been a fool! Of course! No No NO! She hung in the air, watching Fear with that pendant get ever closer. She had to think fast, she had to…What was she…She had to sever this unintended possession.

Yes… Now was the time.

Fear grew ever closer, Zima glowered at her, brought her hands to her own chest and embraced the Veil, as a thick shadow spewed forth from her. The night overhead grew suffocatingly dark as Zima’s power encompassed the surrounding area, engulfing the Pride of Fear. From that prison, came forth numerous, clawed hands- All of them striking for the champion of light.

Light and shadows danced around each other, as Fear gracefully eluded her pursuers, but could not reach Zima. The champion was akin to a shooting star in the darkness of the conjured night, yet aimless was her flight and endlessly came the horde of claws that beset her. Once more Pride chanted. “Hear my prayer, Chailiss! Your stray daughter shall be sealed again!” Strange was the sight of her unmoving mouth while Pride spoke clearly, as though her words were merely echoing despite there being a change in the inflection.

All around came the voice of Zima, haunting and layered, “There shall be no help here. This is a dark place, an all consuming place. Now drown. Drown in the deep.” Though there was no way of being sure, the endless night began to shrink, closing in on the lone champion. More and more hands came, spewing hatred and quiet relief from all that pain. There was nothing that Fear could do, her defeat was certain, and yet she did not show terror or anger, or cry out in denial - she danced as though she were part of a performance, and there was a beauty to her motions that unfortunately no mortal could see and appreciate. A last dance that would not be remembered.

“Hear my prayer, Chailiss! Your stray daughter shall be sealed again!” Her voice rang out a third time, and then there was a burst of violent light as the celestial sections tore at the void, and vice versa, with unnatural screaming and the world trembling before Fear appeared right in front of Zima in a flash, and thrust the blue amulet grasped in the hand of ice against her opponent’s chest. “Mother will come.” She said softly, before claws ripped her away from her foe and she was swallowed by shadows.

Within those shadows, Fear was stripped of all earthly possessions as the claws held her firm, covering her mouth. Crimson eyes watched from the shadows with inscrutable intent. Soon Fear was being clad in the same shadow and inky black that held her so tight. It was then that Zima spoke, voice coming from the direction of her eyes. “I hope she does. She’ll get to see her fallen daughter. Maybe then you’ll finally be delivered the death you want but for now, until this comes to pass, you will be a useful tool.” A veil of shadow came over her eyes, cowling her white hair with dark. Then and only then, did Zima step forth, clad in the same garb as Fear had now. She reached forth and passed her hand onto Fear’s chest.

“The parasite protects you now more than ever. A creature made of stone, only with flame do you persist. I’ve tried so hard to make you see…” Zima murmured, “If only you had listened, I could have spared you of all this pain. But alas, you sought to change me and I was the one who changed you. Even then did I fail.” There was a bitter note in her voice, “That’s all I’ve ever done, fail. But no more. You are a part of me now and we shall be joined in profane rite. I will ask you just once, join me of your own free will. Let me end your suffering. I can make it go away, you can be like me and feel nothing. All you have to do…” She leaned in closer, and whispered in her ear, “Is say yes.” She pulled away and the hand that covered Fear’s mouth dissipated.

“We’ve both changed.” Pride answered, struggling in vain. “You cannot end my suffering, and I can’t end yours. We’ve both failed and remain victims of our parent’s folly. You already know my answer, Zima.” Her last words were not articulated for there was no need to pretend she possessed vocal chords, her uncovered mouth becoming still while she spoke further, as though the wind whispered for her.

Her eyes became morose as she dipped her head down, looking at the hand that lay over Fear’s flame. “One day…One day you’ll see.” she whispered. “Willing or not… The rite begins.” Her head snapped up, morose replaced with sullen anger. “First… It’s time for you to go away now.” Zima grimaced and etched a mark of her handprint into Fear’s chest, she then pulled away and her print was replaced by the shadowy garment. She shut her eyes and felt the print. From it poured into Fear a sliver of shadow that she goaded on. It grew weak, so she poured more of her strength into it, gritting. It sunk into the parasite and burrowed deep, threatening to be consumed by it but again, Zima poured her strength into it and it broke free to see the shield around that heart of hearts. It bounced off harmlessly but it had not come all that way to fail.

Zima scowled and unleashed the paramount of her power into that sliver as it burrowed, just enough to break the seal. It poured in, and the barrier closed behind it. Already it began to fight the flame. It was not strong enough to kill it all but it held just enough… Just enough to find the memory and persona of Pride. It attached itself to it, drowned it in the darkest of night and as the flame licked it up and it became nothing- so to did that hated persona.

What remained of Fear’s inner fire was very small, and pressed itself against the shield of light where it still held, attempting to flee from the shadows. Fear became silent once more, and her body went limp, only the faint sounds of her whimpering resonating throughout the internal space of her being.

“It is complete…” Zima said, exhausted. Slowly the darkness around them faded, giving way to star-filled night. Zima caught Fear before she could plummet and for once, held her without bringing her any harm. She was part of her now after all. They fell to the ground without a word and pressed upon the grass with a sigh escaping her lips. She felt… Odd. Almost regre- No no no, she could not feel such things. This was a moment of triumph, wasn’t it? When she realized she was gripping Fear still, she let go and scooted away. “I shan’t do that again… Even if you remember it.”

And Fear fell, laying upon the ground and unmoving.

“I’ll let you rest.” Zima said quietly.







In Divinus: The Deity Roleplay Mk. VI → 2 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Journeys VI




'I no longer need you to find Zenia.' Those were the words that his Lord had told him. Leaving Viho confused and perplexed. Had he been too slow? Was everything fixed? What was going on?

'Why?' He had asked, the only word that he fumbled quickly enough to say. His master’s presence was already slipping.

’She can help me no more. Her coming would spell only further doom. You are free to leave the North Viho." he had said with a cold voice. ’Go be at peace elsewhere, far from these lands.’

He had protested, he had refused but his God was already gone. Viho was alone.

Always so alone.

But he was alright with that… Right?



So he flew. Flew to the one who had given him some semblance of comfort. It felt like an age ago, perhaps it had been. But the owl champion knew he needed someone to talk to. To help him understand what was going on. And that person was one who he had saved from certain death. His only noble act so far in his entire existence. The only thing he had ever done right, it felt like.

When Chailiss spoke to him he had been over the ocean on a direct path to where he believed he could find Zenia. Now he had gone the opposite direction, back to Keltra and the land of red. Yet as he neared the land proper, a curious feeling came over him. Paranoia mixed with his own fear. Down in his gullet, it made him quiver. What was this feeling?

Suddenly the sky became lit with another glow but it was not the sun. It was directly in the path he was going- Keltra. He doubled his efforts in flight, what if they needed his help?

He could sense something amiss on the wind, all pointing to that red keep. Instinctively he used his senses to search for Fear, for when he often thought of her he almost felt… A pull.

He could see the faintest of lines reaching out towards the keep but he was still days away. But at least he had a lead to go off of. Eventually the light faded, even as the faded from dawn to dusk once more. And something else changed, the line he felt connected with, that led him to Fear, had left Keltra. What was she doing? Where was she going? He didn't know but perhaps he would find out. So Viho followed that trail, his mind sputtering with morbid thought.



The trail led him well past Keltra, into new lands of shadow and shimmering lights. Eventually he came to open plains and the sun returned in full splendor. He did not rest nor did he stop. He followed the ever wandering path that never wavered in its direction. Days became night and vice versa as the flow of time went ever on.

He began to encounter, on the rarest of occasions when he flew close to the surface of the land, burnt out villages with strange faces and always death. It was disheartening as it was chilling. For the trail always went through the middle of such terrible sights. Viho's heart sank but he dared to not think of who had done such a thing. Perhaps Fear was on the same trail, following after whatever evil was causing this.

Yes, that had to be right!

And she would need help to defeat it! Perhaps her sisters were with her as well? He pushed himself ever on, not wanting to believe any other alternative. Fear would be alright. He would see to that. Unbeknownst to him, if he had looked, several other trails led back to Keltra before they faded.

Then upon the winds of a coming storm, he found her.

The bright but fading plains let him see many a thing with precise vision. Not as well as he could in the lightless dark but even he could see a small, white haired girl, out of place near a bubbling brook. She was surrounded by tall grasses, golden and blowing in the breeze. It smelled of rain. Perhaps it would have been a beautiful, happy reunion but why was her hair white? Something felt off.

He landed across from her, she hadn't noticed him it seemed. With a closer look, he could see his friend looked worse for wear. Her skin was… It looked odd and he could see her face, as she stared at her own reflection. Such haunted eyes and general weariness.

It broke his owl heart.

"Fear?" He said her name with gentleness, not wishing to frighten her.

Words passed over her like a whisper on the wind, yet she remained preserved in an ethereal stillness, as though she herself had become an illusion, an apparition that was trapped in this mostly melancholic and perturbing scene. Even though her eyes and garb remained a familiar red, it became clearer that she had lost the luster of life she and her sisters possessed when Viho had encountered them before.

“Please leave…” Fear murmured, pain shining in her haunted eyes.

‘Fear…” Viho sighed. He walked closer, unable to just leave his friend as she was. He peered over the other side of the stream, joining her reflection. “It’s me. It’s your Viho.” he said, trying to find any glimmer in those eyes of hers.

Her still features twisted, her mouth and eyes widening in a grotesque display of madness, while the weird flesh of her cheeks fought against forming this vile expression. She choked on nothingness, gurgling and uttering unnatural sounds as she struggled. Her entire body became tense, as she clenched her hands and her arms trembled.

“Go…” She barely managed to utter, the faintly echoing word coming from deep within her as her mouth did not move, and an aura of dread surrounded her.

Viho stared, wide eyed. He knew not what to do for his friend, only that seeing her in such a state was mortifying. If this was in fact Fear, she was in a worse way then he had ever seen. He hopped over the water and landed beside her. “I’m not leaving you. Not again. Come, I will take you back to Keltra and you will be healed of whatever this affliction is.” he said, with defiance in his heart. He hoped she would agree, for if she didn’t, he would be forced to take her.

She let out an ear-piercing scream as her spine bent backwards with a freakish snap, and her entire body seemed to shatter into thousands of thousands of shards before swiftly coming back together. Again and again her shape broke apart and only horrifyingly imitated what she was before, until she was mended. Then she fell forward, stumbling towards him in silent agony. Viho lurched back, eyes unable to look away from the grisly display.

“I’m not Fear! I hate you! Begone!” She screamed as her face was wracked with violent emotions and milky tears while she struggled to push him away.

He rebuffed her with a flap of his wings. He didn’t know what was going on with Fear but he wasn’t going to leave her. “Now you listen well!” He started, nearly shouting, “I’ve been told enough about what I should do and where I should go! I no longer care to listen. I am not leaving you, even if you aren’t Fear. Even if you hate me! Whoever or whatever you are, needs help and I will help you. I can’t do anything else right but I swear upon the gods I will help you!” He finished his shouting, breathing deep. He felt ashamed of his outburst at first but that quickly melted away. It needed to be said and it felt good.

However his reprimand was followed by malicious laughter; Fear shook with a malformed mockery of mirth, and pointed a finger at him. “I don’t want to hurt you… Ah, I’m going to feast on your flesh, you nitwit!” She answered, her voice split between two tones - afraid and sadistic, both competing for dominance.

Viho shook himself, beginning to realize not all was what it seemed on the surface. Something afflicted Fear, deep inside. “Fear, listen to me. You must fight this. Whatever is going on, there are those of us who want to help you. You just have to fight. Wrestle control. I am here for you, Fear, just listen to my voice.”

“Hahaha! Cry, cry, and cry, that’s all you’re good at! No! Save her, Viho, save Zima! Ah! Nope! Why don’t we have just a little fun?” Fear quivered violently before she suddenly surged in a blur of motion and stabbed her hand into Viho’s stomach. The daughter of Homura became enveloped in red and white flames that exuded a foul odor, as she spun in the air and repeatedly slashed him, soaking herself in his blood.

Viho screeched in pain before kicking her away. He then flapped his wings forth and gusted a cold wind at her, drowning out her fire and buffeting her back further. Viho looked down at his bloodstained feathers, the wound felt like fire in his belly, then he looked at his once-friend. How could it have come to this?

He caught the sight of a shadow descending nearby, coming to form that of a woman with glowering crimson eyes. Far more intense than the madness that drove Fear to attack him. She touched her fingers together, letting them rest around her abdomen as if she were watching to see what the outcome would be. Her shadowy form exuded a dark smoke that drifted in the wind. She looked to Fear and then to Viho but said nothing, nor was her blank expression any help to decipher who or what she was doing there. What had Fear said about Zima…?

Viho looked back at the white-haired champion. Fear began curling into a crying husk, clawing at her own arms until tongues of flame seeped out of the accumulating lacerations. Each burning cut provided more putrid fire, and from her back burst forth beautiful wings of light that lifted her skyward, like a puppet pulled by strings. She did not fly like a bird, she simply came towards him as though all forces carried her to him against her will.

Fear was a poor flier, as much as he felt pride in her wanting to fly, it was far too easy to dodge and then slap her away with a quick wing. “You have to fight Fear! I know you don’t want to hurt me! Please!” Viho pleaded, eyes mainly on her but also glancing at the impassive woman standing on the side.

She met his gaze; and it was not the fragile, yet passionate, Fear that looked at him. It was something insidious that sought out suffering - a monster that was broken and intent on breaking him. It only peered at him and his wings briefly, before scanning the land and descending. She began searching through the golden grass; her attention turned away from him for the time being.

Viho could not allow her to have any advantage. The other women, he could not decipher her intent but she was not attacking. Now was his chance to strike her before this continued any further. Even now his wound ached and he dripped with blood. Viho took to the skies with two powerful beats, more akin to a large jump, before he glided back down, aiming his talons at Fear to pin her. She didn’t avoid him, as though she seemed surprised that she was even in a fight, and had only let out a startled gasp when she fell into his clutches, temporarily restrained.

It was astonishing how much strength her small form possessed while she wriggled in his grasp, loudly crying like a child, something malevolent heard between distressed wails and whimpering.

This did no further good to his mind and heart. Each wail threatened to break him further but his resolve needed to remain strong. "Fear! Listen to me! You have to fight for control! Think of your sister's, think of the happy times! Don't be consumed by… By whatever this is!" He pleaded to her as his tears mixed with salty blood.

As Fear continued to struggle, another voice floated by. "Her sister's abandoned her you know." The woman spoke as she drifted to a stop just beyond his reach. Her voice was like silk, carrying an accent of the north but… more refined? "You look like you don't believe me." She said accusingly. "They left her with me, abandoning her to despair. The Fear you knew is somewhere in there but she is far too weak to resist her other personas now. Isn't that a delight?" She stated as fact.

Yet Viho could not believe what he was hearing was anything but lies. "That is outrageous, her sister's would never abandon her to this madness! You! Who are you? Why would you do this to sweet Fear!" He shouted, eyes full of anger.

The woman tilted her head, crimson eyes never leaving his. "Why would I do this? Why does the wind blow? Why does the rain fall? The sun shine? It's the nature of the world and so it is mine to bring sorrow." She shifted forward, leaning her chin on a hand. "She said save me, save Zima. But I assure you, no one will be saved."

His eyes went wide. This was… This was Zima? Fear's earlier words came back to him now. Save her. Save Zima. How? Zima had died. Chailiss had said so! How many lies and half truths did his Lord tell him? Anger pulsed inside him but once again it was drowned by his pain. "Zima..
If this is really you. Then why? Chailiss said you had died."

"He wasn't wrong. I did die. I am dead. I am alive. Neither but both. It matters not anymore. Soon, if Fear does not do it first, I will kill you." She said, her tone darkening.

He looked down to the struggling Fear and found himself faltering. If he could not help her, then she had to find someone who could. He looked back to Zima, knowing his choice would only bring him more pain. "I refuse to play this sort of game." He let go of Fear and jumped off her. "I will not fight you. Either of you. You are both afflicted and need help. So please, let me help you."

"So be it. Fear…" Zima gestured to Viho with indifference, "Finish what you started. Feed."
Fear became silent and still, frozen in her fetal position where she had curled inward like a frightened child. Without shifting from where she lay, she called out in a voice unfamiliar to Viho. A voice that resembled Homura’s, and yet seemed less mature; more childlike. “You must find Mother! Now fly, you fool!” The child commanded.

Then Fear began spasming once more and her body twisted with rage as she spoke in a vicious and cruel tone. “You can’t protect her from us! She is our toy!” She slowly began pushing herself back to her feet, chest heaving with exertion, but a murderous glee glinted in her possessed eyes - in those broken reb orbs that no longer belonged to Fear, but to whatever had claimed her as its trophy.

Should he depart? Did he have the power to find Homura and her siblings? To put a stop to this once and for all? If he would not fight them, then yes, that was the only option. “Fear…” he breathed. “I… I love you. Please, hold on. I… I will g-” The owl champion froze as a lance of darkness pierced his left wing with a flurious snap. Something broke and he fell backwards in pain. Then another lance hit him again, tattering his feathers and breaking more bones. Then another hit his leg and he felt it crumple. Darkness blurred his vision.

“You’ll forgive her, for giving you any ideas of escape. She always makes things unnecessarily difficult.” Zima chastised. “Now hurry up Fear, I grow tired of this place. We need to move on.”

The foul facsimile of Fear chuckled as she approached where he lay in agony. “I’m afraid we’re not the kind to take prisoners... Seems Chailiss will be losing another child now.” She sang softly, every sardonic word seeping into the recesses of his being, as she drew near him. Her presence paralyzed his body, as she exuded this terrible aura of gluttony that washed over him. Hiding in the shadows that pervaded his sight, he couldn’t see her, but he felt as she climbed onto his belly and began clawing her way towards his innards.

She ate chunks of meat that she hungrily tore off, and slurped greedily at the viscera she had started to swim in, nestling deeper into him like an infant seeking to be unborn. Whether it was her intention or not, she prolonged his suffering by preventing too much blood loss and preserving his vitals through her manipulation of ice that she conjured, while also devouring everything else in her way akin to an insatiable fiend. She was consuming him, and he would die if nothing stopped her.

It was a slow agony that built in him. He could do nothing, for he was paralyzed with fear- Had she truly forgotten him? Had his friend given up entirely? Or was she truly as trapped as he? It was terrible, it was excruciating and he hated it.

Was this how he would die?

Having only seen but a few lands and fewer people? Was his great purpose just a joke all along? He squirmed as Fear tore at him. Zima stared, her face emotionless, uncaring. What had made her so? Or had she always been cruel? He thought such strange things as he was eaten alive… Eaten alive?

Was he really just letting himself be killed? Was it too late to do anything? A fire began to grow inside, fueled by the only need any creature truly had- Survival. With a sudden flurry of a kick, he used his hood leg to push himself away from the one who had shot him. Then he twisted and hopped up, used his beak to grab Fear and rip her out of him, before throwing her away. Something ripped and a trickle of cold water mixed with blood began to flow. He had little time. He summoned a huge gust of wind that kicked up dust with his good wing, then used that coverage to infuse his own ice with his broken leg and wing. It would not last long but it would be enough to escape.

Pain tore through him as she took to the sky, flying as fast he could away from the carnage. Lances of darkness flew past him, wildly in the dust but none landed, thankfully. Then he was away, traveling far enough he hoped they would not follow.

He didn't have long before his ice melted and his power waned. Then death would claim him, as death claimed all. For now… He made his way to Keltra.





In Divinus: The Deity Roleplay Mk. VI → 2 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
The Palace of Rime




She awoke from a dreamless void. Eyes blinking, mind shrouded in a fog. Dark was her vision and her head spun with a frightful fit. Her hands reached for her head but stopped when they felt something silky soft. Her eyes wandered, even as her head spun, down herself. It seemed she was covered by some warm material, like a gentle embrace. With careful resolve she bested that embrace and scooched herself up upon her strange bed. It was a bed, she knew that, of course. Her head was lessening in its spin, still, she rubbed the bridge of her nose and groaned. What was going on? Where was she?

The dim light proved helpful but obscured any finer details. So she stared at the source; a tall, narrow slit on the far side of the room. She wasn't outside or in a tree, of course. Squirming her way to the side of the bed, she whipped off her warmth and felt the crisp air touch her skin. A gasp escaped her mouth as her feet touched the cool floor. Suddenly the cozy comfort of the bed didn’t seem too bad but she was of an inquisitive sort. Her feet were wobbly as she stood and she leaned upon the bed for several moments as she gathered herself. Then she put one step forward and then another and another until she was upon the narrow slit in earnest. With careful fingers did she reach out to feel the dark silk, like the warmth that had shrouded her on the bed. It moved as she touched it, back and forth, spraying light forth as she moved the fabric back. A smile caught her lips as she became captivated by such a game she had conjured.

Yet she longed to see what lay beyond and thus in one mighty pull, did she open the fabric further, enough to see the other side and it took her breath away. Through a large transparent window of ice, tinged with frost at the edges but clear as she saw the world proper, hung a giant moon in the night sky. She had never seen it so close and in all of its majesty, how it lit the world in a lunar glow! She swore she could reach out and touch it and even still it seemed to call to her…

Feelings blossomed inside her, ones she had felt before. The moon wanted her to dance, say hello to all the stars, play games of chase and laugh. Oh how she wanted that… How she sought to fly, her only want. She touched the ice and a memory gave her pause. She had flown but… She gripped her head as her memories jolted to life. She recoiled and fell to the floor with a soft thud. She remembered now, the feelings in her chest. The excitement and joy of Rosa and Chaliss. How she became…

"Aurora?" Came a voice that startled her to awareness. She had never heard such a voice, like a wind had called out her name. She looked around and saw nothing. Now that the light poured in she could see the room proper. It was large with a high ceiling and columns of crystalline ice that held up another level. She had missed the stairs that would have taken her up. Her bed was nestled at the far end with numerous furs and those silky fabrics piled all around with those soft lumps she laid her head on. Everything was tinged with a light blue, as it looked to her and upon further inspection she could see that indeed, the room was made of the same substance as the columns. It was opaque and dark but it definitely wasn't made of wood. Was this Chailiss' doing?

"Aurora." The voice came again and she followed where it came from, looking directly above her. There, suspended from crystal circles, hung a wispy shape. Like a small, misty cloud. She stared wide eyed, trying to figure out what she was seeing but the cloud descended and coalesced in front of her, becoming a shape that was vaguely childan in appearance but without any defining details. "Hello!" It cheerfully greeted with a voice that echoed.

She screamed and her vision went dark.



When she awoke next in the bed, underneath cozy warmth. More moonlight streamed through the now uncovered windows and she could see the full majesty of the room. But wait! Where on earth had that cloudy thing gone? She craned her neck and looked up at the ceiling to find it empty. She looked around and didn't see it at all. Why had it called her Aurora? Had it been a dream? Probably not since she could fully remember getting up and opening the fabrics at the window. Not to that extent though. She did catch sight of another light, warmer with a soft glow. It came through a door she had not seen before. Maybe it had been closed?

Never one to be down for too long, Trusa tentatively crept forth from her spot, grabbing a folded fur to wrap around herself. She wasn't cold by any means but more layers made her feel… Safe? Yes!

Next she made her way to the open door and peeked her head out. She peered down one way and then the other. Lit by moonlight and the soft glow of small orange lights that sat on icy sticks. How were they not melting? Was it fire? As much as she wanted to observe and unfold its secrets, she had other things to do, like finding out where anyone was! So Trusa took a step into those dimly lit halls, adorned and sculpted in the same material as the room she came from. The detail was precise and etched with patterns, lines and shapes that flowed and seemed to tell a story. She couldn’t decipher it of course, but she followed the path right down another long hallway. There were rooms upon empty rooms, flooded with moonlight even when it didn’t make sense of the moonlight to be there. Eventually she came to a winding set up steps that led both up and down, adorned by a railing of frost.

She quickly found herself being very indecisive. Curling her nose and frowning, Trusa leaned back and forth as she decided which way to go. Going up would mean being higher right? Going down would mean going lower. So… Lower she would go! With a quick step, and she almost slipped, Trusa made her way down the long winding stairs until she arrived at a door made of ice. It was shut, so she pushed on it and with a little force, it began to open. She slipped through and it shut behind her.

Now she found herself at the start of a short hallway. At the end she could see more railings and hanging crystals. Plus… Voices!

Proudly she walked forth, confident as could be. There were finally people and that meant she would have some answers! But as she came to the end of that hallway, she realized two things. She was still high above them, on a balcony overlooking a very spacious room. She hid behind a column for the other thing was; the people talking were having a very heated discussion. She peered out from her hiding spot and saw the strangest sight yet. A large throne of ice, molded and shaped in the same material as everything else, sat upon the far end. It was raised up on a platform, guarded by two statues of… Well she didn’t exactly know what. They looked like childan, but they wore strange shapes, with covered heads the like of which spurted horns on either side and they held large… sticks? With curved bits sat on the floor. They were made of ice as well, but more transparent. Sitting on that throne itself was a large figure shrouded in a black cloak, face obscured by their hood. Before them, upon the ground, there stood a pale figure.

A very small girl.

She couldn’t hear what they were saying but the way the girl moved could only indicate that she wasn’t happy. Or, at least Trusa thought so. The figure on the throne was unmoving. Ever the gossip, Trusa inched forth from her hiding spot and back towards the wall. Once there, she began a slow walk to get closer, careful not to be spotted. Soon enough, she could hear the conversation unfolding.

“...doesn’t make any sense! You proclaim that you will help me but you still refuse to give me her location!” the girl snapped. Hey, that voice sounded familiar…

”It will not help you.” The voice of Chailiss spoke, Trusa knew that, but… It sounded off. Muted? Or, emotionless?

“Why? Why! I don’t care! I want vengeance! Even if it means my death!” The girl practically screamed.

Chailiss didn’t even move. ”You would die and you would accomplish little for your people’s memory. She is far too strong to be stopped by a child. Greater champions already have tried and even they failed. She is contained and awaits trial. There is nothing you can do.” Trusa found herself wincing at his tone. It was so uncaring, unlike how he had spoken to her before.

“You… You don’t get to decide that!” the girl shouted, “I will have vengeance for my people, by whatever means! You and your trial be damned!” She went to spit on the floor but before it ever hit the ground it froze and not just the liquid. It halted in the air and for once in that place, Trusa could see her breath. It became cold and fast. The girl looked as if she had seen a ghost in that fiery expression. It was only then did Trusa realize who she was. Mair!

”Do not defile the sanctity of this place in your attempt to belittle me, little champion.” That time, his voice did change. It was cold, so cold.

In the blink of an eye, those statues guarding the throne came to life and fell upon the floor with loud thuds. They left their sticks behind and advanced on poor Mair with uncanny movement. Far too fast for statues made of just ice. Mair took a defensive position by holding up her arms but they were so much larger than her. Trusa’s heart began to beat and she began to feel lightheaded. Was she about to watch Mair… As a statue reached out towards her, Trusa couldn’t bear to watch it unfold any longer.

“Stop!” she shouted, jumping up from her hiding spot to hang upon the balcony out in the open. ‘Stop this now!”

The hooded Chailiss turned his head towards her and raised a hand. Immediately the statues stilled, and came to a rest far too close for comfort from Mair. The small Voiran girl looked up at her too.

”Aur-” Chailiss began, but Trusa cut him off.

“No! You don’t get to speak right now! Whatever you were about to do to Mair is unthinkable! And and shameful! I have so many questions!” She crossed her arms and huffed. “To think I’ve been gone a day and you’ve lost your head! What even is this place? Where are we? Where is Rosa? What happened, we were in the forest and now,” she gestured vaguely to everything, “Now this!”

There was silence in that vast hall. Her heart pounded and she breathed heavily but what was said, was said. Chailiss let his hand fall and the statues returned to the throne. Trusa took a ragged breath as a wave of fatigue overcame her. She caught the gaze of Mair, steely eyed, grateful, then the pale girl looked away quickly and left the hall.

"A single day it has been not. You've been asleep for many moons, Aurora." Chailiss spoke, his voice less cold but back to how it had been; lifeless.

"How many moons… and why are you calling me Aurora? My name is Trusa." Thought she had to admit, Aurora clicked with her far more than Trusa ever did.

"Today would mark the ninety-first day of your slumber. You are the Aurora, child. Your name came to being when Rosalind's power manifested itself into you. The Aurora you became brought spring to the north." To her ears it was hard to tell how Chailiss even thought about what he was telling her. The lack of any indication was frustrating and she furrowed her brow in response.

"Rosalind sleeps in the highest tower of the Rime Palace. Which is the location we are at now. This will be your home for the foreseeable future, Aurora. Until we may cure the fever that rests within you and your mother. You require more rest, even now I can tell you are not well. Please, let us return to your room?" The God began to rise but Aurora, as her name was now, had other ideas.

"What do you mean the foreseeable future? I can't leave because of what I did? I don't even remember! I was walking and talking and next I know I'm waking up and seeing clouds! You can't keep me here! You promised I'd get to see the world!" Angry tears began to fall down her cheeks as she scrunched her nose in anger, hands balling to fists. She felt weak but she wouldn't fall.

Chailiss' tattered robes barely touched the ground as he stood fully towards her. "I have promised many things to many people but no more. This is not open for discussion Aurora. You are sick and need to be cured. We don't know what you are capable of and it seems it is not something you can even control. I can keep you here and I will." There was a bitter note to his voice as he floated towards her. Aurora huffed, his words were stupid! Maybe Mair did have the right idea.

So, Aurora ran.

At the other end of the balcony, there was another recessed hallway. That was her goal.

"There is nowhere to go, Aurora." Chailiss called after her. "You will see that."

But Aurora wasn't really paying attention and Chailiss didn't seem all that interested in catching her or maybe she was just too fast! Regardless, she made it to the hallway and down it she could see another set of doors. She bounded to them and pushed them open as the God's cold chill ran up her spine. He was in the hallway! With a push and a groan, Aurora made it through the door but her fur got caught as it closed behind her so she ran in her silky gown down a flight of stairs and into a room full of many chairs and tables made of ice. They were far more refined than the ones the Flamekeepers kept.

Ugh, so easily distracted! She had to keep moving and into another door she went, this time coming face to face with more clouds. She froze and they froze as both parties looked at each other. They were… Sculpting?

Then a voice broke the awkward silence. "Hello Aurora!" Said a cloud with the same voice from earlier and she really couldn't tell which one it was. So, this time, she didn't scream or pass out, she just ran. Ran right past them and into another flight of stairs that led down. She opened the last door at the end of that hallway and was met with chill air. Moonlight made her blink but now she could see where she was. It was a room that was half open and half enclosed, columns down the middle. The open side was a balcony that was kept contained with a low wall. The moon hung overhead, beckoning.

Aurora grabbed a column and peered out into the open air. There were so many stars and the moon, ever so perfect, despite all its scars… But what truly took her breath away, as she walked to the railing, was the landscape itself. The Rime Palace, as Chailiss called it, was set before her and beyond that lay an endless expanse of polar white. As far as the eye could see, it was all touched by the moon's gentle light. Shivers went down her spine and goosebumps lined her arms. The way the light refracted off the crystalline-ice rooftops, and how it seemed to shimmer and dance.

It was awe inspiring.

It unlocked something inside her that had been hidden away. She recalled what happened in pieces, forlorn and bursting with joy. She had become something so vast it had covered the very sky itself. She had been so close to the moon, it was no wonder it wanted her back. She was color manifest, spring born anew, a dancer amidst the stars. She could see it so vividly now, splayed out before her eyes as if she was there. As if she had always been. She had laughed and seen all beneath her. Then it had faded to darkness, she lost the touch of the sky and the favor of the celestial bodies up above. She was Trusa, now Aurora born anew. Temptation held at her lips, for she knew, deep down, that fever could turn against her entirely. She could lose herself and never be seen again as she was now.

Would that be so bad?

"Aurora." Chailiss' voice broke her concentration and she spun around to see the god before her. "There is no leaving this place without my blessing. You would succumb to the elements and be lost forevermore. Please, you must understand."

She chose her next words carefully, the time for outbursts was over. For now. "Why keep us here against our will? What will that accomplish besides resentment and fear?"

He looked past her and floated to the railing. "You may come to resent me. I have made peace with that end but I hope it will not be so. I told Rosa I would help her and I would help you, if you allow it. You must realize, Aurora, this is about protecting the world from true ruin." he turned to her and pulled back his hood. She gasped at what remained underneath. A blue skull, blackened in places, exuding an aura of baleful chill. "You were not the only one to have a fever that day. Once you started, Rosalind soon followed. She destroyed the west of the North. Nothing but torn islands and ocean remain. The loss of life was unimaginable. I tried to stop her but you can see how that turned out." he pulled the hood back up.

"Chailiss… I…" She sputtered.

"There is no need to say anything. What happened, happened and now I must ensure it never happens again. For the good of all kinds. Now you see why I forbid you from leaving. Your fever may be benign in appearance but there is no way of knowing. It could become destructive just like your mother's and there has been so much death…" for once, the God did sound sad but Aurora couldn't tell if it was genuine.

"I don't like this. I wanted to see the world and meet new people." Aurora turned and gripped the wall. The cold pricked her fingers. "But… I am willing to stay, at least for now, if you help me understand my fever. So we can know just how dangerous it really is. Does that sound fair?"

"It does. We shall unlock its secrets and find a cure. For you and for your mother." Chailiss agreed.

“Good. Now please tell me, what are those clouds? Where is Mair? And can I see Rosa?”







In Divinus: The Deity Roleplay Mk. VI → 2 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Restitution




They flew to the south still, farther and farther away from Keltra. Away from the once comfort of sisters and home. Now evermore a bittersweet note to add to the maelstrom of emotions and thoughts churning inside Fear's body, mind and soul. Annoyance still snickered at her, while Sorrow sought to undo her very foundations. Her ordeal had yet to end, when will it end… and so she continued to fight against those that sought to dominate her, to consume her with their vicious mockery and searing presence. Only the otherworldly light she had summoned gave her intervals of peace and quiet when she was capable of immersing herself in its serene luminescence.

Sorrow had demanded she succumb, but Fear refused - repeating those words again and again in her mind until they were firmly etched into her very being, so that she could still resist the terrifying power of the one that imprisoned her. Her spell was sustained by the components involved in the ritual; as long as her body remained intact, the shield will persist until Sorrow eventually overwhelms it, or Fear gathers enough Spirit to dismiss it. The anxious champion could only contemplate how much she must further endure, while she soared across the sky, trapped in her own body.

It went on like that, an ebb and flow, for days. And those days turned to a blur and that blur; into countless passing time. Atleast, she thought. Sorrow would only comment when it suited her but Annoyance was there to keep her company. She was stuck within herself and it became difficult to judge where they were, what they had done or who they had passed. Sorrow did not let her view the world like before, instead she fed her feelings, terrible feelings and lingering visages of what her torturer had done.

More pain, more suffering, more death. She knew not if it was from the present or past, it all blurred in a chorus of screams.

Until, it stopped.

Her vision was restored and Sorrow's voice came alight all around. "We have ventured into a new land, Fear. I wondered why a blistering, salty desert contained it. Now I see. It's far too quiet, don't you think?"

They hovered in the air, overlooking nothing out of the ordinary. It was just a forest, with greenery and flowers and trees. Yet it felt as if the very wind blew silent. Fear fumbled with the thoughts she attempted to arrange in a coherent manner, struggling to answer for a moment. “Begone demon, I see your trickery… You can’t deceive me!” She screamed mentally, in a strenuous effort to overpower the din and discord inside her, her own voice split a thousand times while warring with herself. She could not discern one voice from another, but so many had come together and warned her of the danger in this place Sorrow had shown her.

“You’ve chosen such a poor location, brother. You truly have a terrible sense of direction! Well, what now?” Annoyance asked, as she buried Fear and the other voices deep within their consciousness, allowing her to assert her dominance for a time at least.

The demon snickered in a mocking tone. "Careful now, your cracks are shining through, Fear. But I will admit, for once, there's no trickery. No deception. We had to fly over the ocean to get here. I think there's a reason for that. I shall play along with you Annoyance, until your other personality wishes to show herself. And for your question, I know not but we have only ever pushed forward and so we shall do so now." Sorrow spoke and glided them to the forest floor, underneath the canopy of silent trees.

“You refuse to admit we’re lost… Alas, now the blind are leading the blind through the desert. Dearest Pride says we should leave this place before we find trouble, but I feel like finding some trouble, don’t you?” Annoyance replied with false chagrin, while protruding parts of herself beyond the shimmering barrier to prod Sorrow and see if the demon would lash out.

All she found was a coldness. Something disinterested. "Another personality? My oh my that doesn't sound good." She said absentmindedly as they walked in the shade. Every noise they made felt like a transgression but Sorrow kept going. "You can see, this isn't a desert. We aren't lost either. Perhaps in a lost land but I never did have a destination in mind. As for trouble…" her voice quieted, obviously tired of talking.

So Annoyance happily hummed a simple tune, as she slid her sections of her spirit back and forth through the shimmering shield until she became bored and mused aloud. “Not all those who wander are lost… yet it feels as though we’ve wandered astray. Do you know any songs, Sorrow? Will you sing with me?”

"No." Sorrow stated, holding out a hand to caress a leaf. It turned to a black smoke as she let go, corruptive as her touch was. "This is not a natural quiet." The demon murmured, "At least as how we might know it."

“ Now you’re just confusing me.” Annoyance said with a huff, before turning her attention to their surroundings and seeking amusement. Memories of this land filled her mind as she tapped into the bond she shared with her sisters and called upon their knowledge. There was only a slight hassle as they fought to gain control of the limited space within the barrier, but Annoyance had pushed them back. Now she possessed information and awareness and became curious what they may discover in this abhorrent realm.

The answer to that question became clear enough, from the brush came a beast, a large feline. Their walk was staggering with fangs bared, but the most heinous sight was their form. Through the fur and skin emerged conclaves of mushrooms and fungi, caked in dried blood and surrounded by broken bones, even one of the beast's clouded eyes had been forced to make room for the fungi that seemed to infect it.

The hideous thing bared its teeth, clearly aggressive towards the Interlopers that stood before it now. Yet strangely, not making a single move to attack.

“It seems… I have found my answer.” Sorrow spoke aloud this time. From her hand came a spike of ice and without any hesitation, she flung it at the beast with deathly precision.

With a squelching of flesh she found her mark, piercing the beast through its head, yet it did not fall, it only began to advance, fungi beginning to shake and writhe, ready to burst. Sorrow was unmoving from her position and watched as the creature came. As it neared she summoned another shard of ice with Fear’s hand, this time a pike that pierced the abomination belly first, lifting it into the sky. From that ice came numerous smaller shards that erupted outward. “That’s more like it.” She murmured.

A groan erupted from the beast's lips, and while it continued to writhe, it made no move to free itself from its bonds. Afterall, it didn't need to. In an instant, the fungi erupted in unison, sporocarps giving way to their intended purpose as a thick miasma rapidly grew from the center point of the beast impaled. Converging directly towards Fear's body, seemingly eager, despite merely being a cloud.

With her other hand, Sorrow whipped forth a shroud of darkness that bit into the miasma, decaying it with a lingering touch. She did this several times until she could be sure it was dealt with properly. Then she repeated the same hateful death upon the pinned creature. Ice shattered and decayed, while the very creature became nothing but black smoke. When she was done she looked upon her work. “A parasite. No wonder this land is contained.” she muttered. “It would make an excellent hiding spot, all the same.”

“You seek to hide yourself… So you’re afraid then?” Annoyance asked, as she also observed through the limited lens she was given, and let out a sound of revulsion upon seeing such a grotesque sight, only briefly considering letting Fear resurface just to let her deal with the hideous things to come instead.

“Are you afraid?” Sorrow asked in return, ignoring the question. She began to walk away. “It certainly sounded like it earlier.”

"are you afraid?" Came a voice that sounded like hundreds at once. From the Canopy above a form practically dropped upon them, it was cloaked in tattered white cloth and as it unfurled itself, clawed insectoid arms emerged. It raised its head, revealing only a blackened void, with a twisted smile planted upon it.

"Oh us. What do we have here?" It spoke once more, it's smile fixated upon the Interloper.

Sorrow froze, going rigid as her gaze fell upon the newest being. All attention turned to the newcomer, even what little had been still assaulting their inner flame. Was it finally time for a breath of relief or was this just going to add to their troubles? “Fear…” Sorrow began, “Is beneath me.” With an explosion of force, she drove a wall of ice towards the creature, ripping it from the ground before using the momentum to leap out of its path and to throw a dagger of dark flame at it. “I didn’t realize these monsters could talk…” Annoyance quietly remarked as she watched the encounter unfold.

No movement came from the creature, merely allowing the wall to smash into it. The wall broke around it, not moving them even an inch. It did finally move to dodge the dagger flying towards it, never moving it’s heinous gaze from the interlopers. It spoke once more, "A hunt! Our favorite!" Before leaping towards them with ferocious speed, claws slashing at them.

Sorrow barely had any time to leap out of the way. The tree behind her was sliced in half and as the mighty giant tumbled with such a loud crash, Sorrow took one look at what had unfolded and bolted, running with little fanfare through the underbrush and twisting trees. Behind them, their hunter let out a cackle of buzzing noises, like a hive of eager wasps. Sorrow didn't need to look back to understand they were following behind. In front of them, the forest twisted further, fungi began to emerge from the ground and every plant, taking a hold of everything in their path. But there was no time to appreciate the sights, the cackle was drawing closer and closer as they ran.

“Zima… We have to fly up!” Fear suddenly suggested, hoping her host would listen to her for once, except other voices surfaced as well and drowned her quiet words within a tumultuous sea of commands and directions that clashed and contradicted itself. “Don’t run away!” Courage shouted. “Release us for an advantage in numbers.” Kindness ordered. “Try mentioning Tuku!” Curiosity called. “Hide quickly.” Wanderer murmured. “Pray to the Divine.” Pride proclaimed. “Just let yourself die…” Annoyance offered. They all spoke simultaneously, their voices mingled and melded, their words becoming an amalgam of gibberish and concepts as Fear fought to remain coherent and sane in an orgy of consciousness in order to preserve herself and Sorrow long enough to survive.

Sorrow gritted her teeth, cracking the stone around her lips. “BE QUIET!” She commanded, hammering the shield inside of them with tumultuous force. Outside she kept running, gaining purchase amidst lower tree branches and twisting fungoide masses. Her ascent was nearing the tops of the trees, wings manifesting, cold ledges of ice piercing the wood for the final few steps.

As they ascended, for a brief moment, the cackling stopped. Yet the silence was short, replaced by a cacophonous buzzing as countless bugs swarmed over them, biting and stinging. The swarm did not stay though, it merely moved in front of them, gathering together to fuse back into flesh and bone just atop the tree canopies. Forming the ever grinning form of their hunter.

"Boo."

With a slash the hunter clawed through the tree line towards Sorrow. Aiming not for them directly, but the ethereal wings carrying them up towards the sky and their escape. Sorrow fell as her momentum was cut short. Before she had any further time to react, a wing snapped and she dismissed the other wing with a grunt. They fell further, slamming into the side another large branch, shattering her right shoulder. As darkness flooded the gaps, Sorrow got a hold of herself and spearheaded their fall with her black flame. She pulled at the greenery and devoured it all around them, then pressed her hand down to stop their descent with a billow of flame. It buffered her and she rolled to the side.

“Zima, let me go, and keep going…” Fear tried again, reaching out with her spirit protruding beyond the barrier she had summoned, tentatively touching the tainted sections inside her body around where her inner flame dwelled. “We can fight this monster!” Courage added in assurance. “Let us out, demon.” Kindness growled. “Please stop fighting!” Curiosity cried. “Hide now…” Wanderer repeated. “You can’t win against a god.” Pride proclaimed. “Ahahaha!” Annoyance laughed in hysteria. Fear had become fractured, her mind like a broken mirror that cut itself and seemed precariously close to simply shattering, but it was now completely exposed - vulnerable to Zima’s influence outside the shield of light.

Gaining a semblance of composure, that who was Sorrow, rose to her feet. She turned inward and Zima’s voice whispered, “There will be no going. A mere creature it is not but perhaps a bargain can be met. I told you, Fear, I would fix this vessel. By any means.” Her lingering power wrapped itself around the shield and darkened everything else.

She then spoke aloud, “Come then, hunter. Shall we talk for but a moment, before you have your prey?”

The hunter dropped down, their smile seemingly wider than before. "Well well this is different. Never had prey talk after we hunted them down." They slowly approached, stopping just close enough to jump towards them in case, yet made no move of attack.

"So then, interloper, what did you wish to talk about?"

Zima looked upon it with a neutral expression behind her crimson eyes. “You are a Divine, are you not?” she said aloud, “I have sought for one, long and far, across distant lands and inhospitable places. If you would hear my plea before having your way with me, I would be honored.” She said, crossing a hand over her heart.

The god chuckled "We are divine yes, though our kin would say otherwise. But we see no harm in this plea, we will have our feast regardless. Make it quick, we can get quite hungry."

“Thank you, my divine.” Zima said, “I confess, this vessel would be a most poor meal, perhaps up to your standards but nowhere near enough for your tastes. I can tell that you are one of opportunity and here I am, easy prey. But. What if, instead of being eaten, this vessel could serve you in another way? All I ask is you take a moment to consider this before you make your decision.” She gave a little bow. “Oh, and between you and me, too much stone, not enough sustenance in these limbs of mine.”

"This is true, this, vessel, of yours is fractured." They drew closer, their gaze inspecting all over. "But how could one such as yourself aid us? You clearly had some reason to come to these lands, for surely those other divine would've warned you of our presence." They circled around her body, face mere inches from Zima's. "So tell us dear, what service could you provide to a Divine Cannibal?"

She remained unblinking in the face of a god. “The other divine are cruel. They lie and cast us aside when they are done using us. I was imprisoned by such gods. I tried to rebel against my end but it did not work, so by chance I made an escape and here we are.” Zima finished with lingering malice in her voice, before she took a breath and began again. “You, on the other hand, are at least forthcoming with your intentions. So, I offer you this; This vessel shall complete a task for you, of your choosing. All I ask is you repair the cracks, improve, if you must. I know what it is like to not have useful tools but I assure you, that would not be the case here. If this does not suffice, I can offer but one more thing as a token of appreciation for allowing me to talk for so long in the face of such divinity.”

“You’re a liar…” Fear lamented, as Annoyance mentally shoved her aside, and feebly struck out at Sorrow, akin to a bleeding worm flailing helplessly as she mocked the one that kept her imprisoned and corrupted her: “You grovel before the Divine like the rest of us… what a coward! Ha, you know nothing, Sorrow! Pathetic…” If Sorrow acknowledged them she did not show it.

The cannibal thought for a moment. Their formless void of a face staring deep into the eyes of Sorrow. "Any task? We must admit you do show some promise. We've rarely had a mortal like you fight us, then speak to us hoping we won't tear out their throat." They threw their head back, cackling once more. "But how can we be so sure you will perform this task? You did come here and murder some of our children after all."

Sorrow tilted her head. “An unfortunate consequence of my own judgment.” She next did an odd thing. A blade of cold materialized in her frost-bit hand and in one swift motion, she moved it across herself and cut off her other arm at the shoulder. It fell to the ground with a soft clatter. Sorrow dropped the ice, wherein it melted, and picked up her other arm. She then dipped her head and offered it to the cannibal god. “As restitution for the loss of your children at my hand. I assure you, my resolve is sound, the task will be done.”

The parasite lord grabbed the arm in an instant, devouring it all within their maw in mere seconds. Flesh and stone and bone crunched between their teeth, fuel to their endless hunger. Once done, they turned their attention back to Sorrow. "Very well, we suppose this is perfect restitution. We shall help you, come closer." They moved one of their many hands underneath their mouth, retching and gagging as a white seed, no bigger than a lime, emerged, landing softly into their palm. They held it out towards her. "Eat this."

Sorrow took it in her hand and eyed it with little fanfare. “Don’t eat it… you’ll never escape its grasp then.” Fear warned with what little power her weak voice still possessed, however there was little she could do to prevent Sorrow from consuming the offering. Sorrow spoke inside her, voice growing distant. “Oh Fear, I have already escaped it’s grasp. You on the other hand?” She placed the seed in her mouth before the god. “Consider this my thanks for helping free me.” She swallowed.

Zima’s presence left Fear, all that remained of her was a lingering feeling of doubt and a great deal of space. Her imprisonment was finally over… or was it? The seed descended deeper into her body, until it drew near to her inner flame that sat within. As soon as that warmth was found, it stopped, expanding into a litany of vines that snaked through her body's inner workings. First it found its way to the flame, surrounding it in its vines, a shield- Another prison. Then, white vines and wood began to emerge through her skin, covering holes, reforging flesh and bone, and creating a new arm for the one Sorrow stole. It fused as best as it could, grabbing onto the remnants of her clay and flesh, in order to make the new additions seem as natural as they could. Slowly did the vines adopt the form of Fear’s flesh, though still imperfect if looked at for long.

Yet, there was something more, the seed pulsated, writhing once again.

The god smiled "Very good, our dear spirit. Though we must admit, we are impressed with your willingness to put one of honor up to a task for the god of Parasites." They directed their words towards Zima, who stood close by watching Fear, their smile ever so wide. "So we hope you will see the task completed, we did leave one thing out." They looked towards Fear, pointing towards where the seed sat inside her. "That little thing is a parasite, one of our children. As such, you'll have to feed it. Lies, guilt, and murder. Things we know these honor types love so much. If you fail to feed it, the parasite will take over, leaving your vessel trapped once more, and…" It gave a wet laugh, pointing back to Zima. "And you would be out a vessel. Since you said it would do the task - If that happens, we will consider it a failure for you, spirit, and as such, you would be a vow breaker." They fully turned towards Zima now. "Afterall, you made the promise."

Zima stood, hands folded down as her afterimages pulsed with black shades. Her red eyes gleamed but her thoughts were now indecipherable. She spoke aloud, now with a much richer voice, “So I did and so it shall be don-”

Fear’s body spasmed and convulsed, barely able to remain standing as Fear struggled with it. The parasite did not seize her limbs or prevent her from regaining control either, and even allowed her to feel the contour of her shape and form once more, but her body had become an unfamiliar landscape after suffering Sorrow’s presence for so long, and enduring this newest transformation. Fear was uncertain whether or not it would obey her now, but she found herself instinctively moving the mouth. “Kill me…”

“Pay her no heed.” Zima spoke, floating to stand before the new Fear. “She will come to appreciate your gift and the benevolence shown here today.”

Yesaris drew close to Fear, allowing them a moment to regain their body. For however long it lasted. "Whether it is considered a gift or not does not matter. We care not," they leaned in, whispering to the Homuran, "Fear not, one of honor, you shall do fine. We're sure your siblings will find you soon." They stepped away, searching the forest for something. Finding their item, they plucked a small red orb from one of the nearby fungi, presenting it to Fear. "This is your task, plant this beyond that accursed desert to the north, we do not care the destination, but it must be safe until it's fully grown and able to expand. See it done, and we shall consider you free of this debt."

“It shall be done, your grace.” Fear hesitantly replied, as she felt tears trail down her newly formed cheeks. She accepted the red orb, reminded of her family by its color and the words of Yesaris, but her hope was so faint, she only prayed that she could complete this quest before she succumbed to the insanity that was festering within her. “You could let me do it for you, ya.” Courage offered in exchange for control. “You do not have to do this, let me help you.” Kindness pleaded as well. “Please stop!” Curiosity cried once again before she was mentally murdered by Annoyance and spoke no more. “Hide.” Wanderer repeated, as Pride remained silent, and Annoyance just laughed in the depths where the shadows hid her. Fear bowed before the Lord of Hunger, silently sobbing.

"So shall it be done." Zima reiterated. "Come Fear. We have a ways to travel yet." The shade commanded. Fear felt paralyzed by pain; the phantom pain of her sacrificed arm and shattered skull, the echoing screams of those that perished upon their terrible path that intersected with Sorrow - she still heard their anguish and their wrath and it wreaked havoc upon her. She could feel the pain of crystalized despair that Zima had sown in her chest, and the pain of oppression that lingered on her lips. This was her tormentor that only promised more pain… and yet she followed.

Zima paused before the Lord and tilted her head. "We shall not meet again. A vow breaker I am not." Then with nothing else to say, she walked on with Fear in tow. Back from whence they came.






In Divinus: The Deity Roleplay Mk. VI → 2 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Blue Hues and Red Shades


Before Chailiss Saves the Holy Quintet




It was odd for a god to be wracked by uncertainty, but there he was- Uncertain. But Chailiss flew on anyway, having found the spirit bird once more. It was taking him towards the bjorklands, farther and farther away from Zima and the champions. The ones he may have sent to their doom. Some adventure they'd be going on, instead of learning of the land and helping its citizens, now they would be hunting down one of his own. For better or for worse, it had to be done. That's what he had to believe.

All he could hope was that they weren't stupid enough to try anything. If they died because of Zima… Because of him, he would never be able to forgive himself. His sacred promise of protecting life would be dashed along icy rocks, blood would always flow in the north.

Blood…

It was what the spirit bird led him to. It was a great bog of the stuff, spreading into the depths of the earth and across it too. The forests fed on it, the soil was discoloured by it - red-gold in every which way. But the smell was in no ways unpleasant - quite the opposite. The trees here vibrated with life as they greedily absorbed the ichor of gods - the golden fluid gyrated and branched out in great twirls and circles up the length of every tree, down every branch, into every leaf. But for the macabre origins of the stuff it would have been beautiful in its way.

As Chailiss made his way across the bog and through the trees, he finally came to the wellspring of the bloodbog. It had once been a clearing, a grove in the middle of the forest; now it was a lake of pure ichor. In the middle grew a tree whose bark was as ichor, red and gold, and whose curves betrayed a femininity of form that no tree could achieve by natural means. It called to him, throbbed with life that desired nothing more than release.

His expression was one of disbelief and mysticism. Captivated as he was horrified, Chailiss stretched out a hand towards the tree, with all hope in the world that the goddess still lived. His touch sent vibrations through the wood and it held onto him - not physically, but it held onto something in him, breathed him in. Like a child clinging to its mother’s teat, it suckled hungrily and changed before him. The branches retreated and the bark grew into a cloak of red beneath which a white shirt and knee-length pantaloons shaped themselves about skin whose colour - with the welding of gold and red - had become a sun-kissed brown. On her head, leaves transfigured into hair of darkest night on which grew beads of gold, and about her ankles bracelets clattered into being and bangles embraced her wrists. Her eyes were of lightest brown, but seemed - when she looked here or there - to become a pale green, and as consciousness sprung into those eyes a great white snaking line descended from beneath her hair and twirled across her form until she was marked from face to foot with delicate turning patterns that glowed the gentlest white.

She glanced down at her hands - perhaps confused, perhaps curious - and then looked up at Chailiss. Her green-again-brown-again eyes took him in blankly, and then she smiled shyly and placed her hands behind her. “You’re very round,” she giggled.

Chailiss was taken aback at first, further perplexed by this sudden turn of events. He took a step back to properly take the young girl in. ”Who… Who might you be?” he asked her, ignoring her comment and feeling in the very air that she was no goddess. She observed him for a few seconds then took in the lake all around and the trees, and the sky above roiling with snow-white clouds.

“I…” she started, “I don’t know. I’ve always been here, just standing. I grew and grew, and then I started feeling… feeling everything. I felt you long before you saw me. But seeing is new. It’s different from feeling.” She looked down at her feet and paused for a few seconds. “I don’t quite… feel anymore. Not like before, anyway.” She looked back up at him. Whether she felt anything at the disconnect or not, she did not say. “I should probably ask you who you are right? And why you… well. You changed me, right? I felt that - you touched me right here,” she placed a finger on her forehead, “and then everything changed.”

"I am Chailiss," he began slow, folding his arms across his chest. "I… Do not know why you awoke when I reached out. I came here looking for a fellow god. Rosalind was her name. You are not her, are you?"

“Oh, Rosalind. I know her. She used to be,” the girl turned around and gestured to the end of the clearing. A tree stood there with a distinctly humanoid hollow at its base, though the waterline obscured it somewhat, “right there. Someone came and took her not too long ago. It was nice to have her around, we used to chat. She would dance sometimes too - or, well, something would dance. I never quite understood what it was, but it was pretty.” She turned back to Chailiss. “Why are you looking for her?”

He followed her gesture, a small wave of relief washing over him, quickly followed by more worry. "I was told…" he looked back at her, "I was told she needed help but it seems she is gone and now you remain."

“Mmm, yeah. Are you, uh, going to turn me back now?” She looked up at him carefully. “I guess you just needed me so you could know what happened to her,” she gestured behind, “and now you know. Lil ol’ me can go to sleep, right?” She paused. “BUT I WON’T LET YOU!” She turned around with surprising speed and hurtled out of the clearing and off into the forest.

He tilted his head, watching her go for a short time and then followed after. “You are mistaken, child. I’m not going to make you sleep again if that’s not what you wish. Rosalind is gone but you remain and now I must see to you. Now, where are you even going?” he asked, shrinking down in size so he could avoid the lower tree branches.

He found her lying stomach-down on a branch, chin in her palm and feet in the air behind her. “Well, since you’ve given me the power to see and move… I want to use them! I want to see everything. I want to see my bog - it looks so different to how it felt. It’s pretty nice. And I want to see everything beyond it too! Are there other gods? Have they made things other than me? And what about Rosalind? Where’d she go - I’d like to find her and thank her for keeping me company.” She sat up, her feet dangling from the branch as she spread her arms wide. “I want to do everything.”

He could not help but smile at the girl. “You may do so, I assure you. This is the land known as, well, the north by me and my fellow gods. Many of their creations walk upon it, some just like you, if not a bit taller. As for Rosalind,” he shook his head. “I do not know what her fate is or who took her. Let us hope she will be alright and that one day you will be able to see and meet her.” Perhaps this wasn’t such a bad thing. Rosa was gone, yes, but in her place she left a daughter. A mortal he could protect and save. He made to move forward but froze.

Chailiss’ smile faltered when a new voice ushered into that clearing. It came from no source he could see, save his very thoughts, like Viho all that time ago. Her voice was unmistakable and her urgency undeniable.

It was Kindness with a plea for help. He looked to the unnamed girl, remembering how he had left Zima behind and what had become of her. To save Kindness and her sisters, he could not take her with him. That was certain, but to leave her all alone? No…

“You wish to see the world, yes?” he said in a quicker voice, walking swiftly towards her. “You must come with me, there is a danger growing in the west and girls just like you need my help. I will not leave you here alone but I can take you to a place where you can meet others. Please.” he held out a hand. She stared at his hand for a few seconds, then at how he had floated right up to where she was sat in the tree. “Uh… okay… but only if you teach me how to do that,” she pointed at his flying form, “because that is the coolest thing I’ve seen you do.”

He smirked, “Of course, as a daughter of Rosalind, this can be achieved I think but not now. Now we must depart.”

“Daughter of Ro-” she began, but Chailiss grabbed her hand and pulled her into a gentle embrace. Then before she had any time whatsoever to react he was flying and fast. Over the treetops they ascended and then Chailiss flew west. She clung to him and stared below with wide eyes. She cried out in fear and held on for dear life. After a while - when the initial rush of surprise and terror had passed - her cry turned into a whoop and she laughed and let the icy air wash over her and through her long night-black hair. “This is the best!” She declared, though her voice was quickly lost on the wind. She leaned in closer and shouted into what she thought was the god’s ear. “THIS IS THE BEST!” She let him hold her and slowly let go of him, spreading her arms wide and releasing a long whoop. Any other would have struggled to keep a hold on her with all her odd movements and lack of concern for safety, but it was no struggle for the lord of ice and wind. She turned back to him after she had surveyed the world from so far up. “The trees look so different from above - they’re like the clouds, but on the ground. And green!” She smiled with contentment and leaned back into Chailiss - having managed to struggle until his great rotund form was to her back and his arms circled about her stomach - but jumped wide-eyed when a few seagulls swooped by. “They can do it too?” She asked in awe. But somehow she had already known about them and the knowledge settled down in her mind - affirmed rather than learned.

“What did you mean by what you said earlier?” She asked after a while. “How am I a daughter of Rosalind? She was always there, a companion not a parent.”

He was quiet for a time, contemplative. When he spoke, his voice came all around her, never muffled by the wind. “That may be so, that you would see the relationship you had with her as such, but in my own eyes, it’s different. When a god creates living, breathing, thinking life- How could one not call it a child? That place was ripe with her essence and even now I feel it in you. As well as…” He dipped down and began to descend in a large forested area, his words growing quiet . The trees here were even larger than the ones back at the bog. He did not speak again because quite suddenly they came before a large blue fire, surrounded by the hustle and bustle of other people. All turned to Chailiss and the girl he carried in his arms. They touched down near the flame and were met by a quiet chorus of awe-inspired gazes.

“Where is the Firecharmer?” he asked aloud, scanning the crowd for Chilali.

Hushed whispers came, speaking of her absence and not long after a firekeeper came forth. “Spirit Father, the Firecharmer has departed North to settle a dispute. I am Keeper Alona and at your service.”

She gave a small nod and Chailiss gave a sigh of relief. “Alona, I task you with watching this one.” He placed a hand on her shoulder and nudged her forward. “I am needed elsewhere but will return. Answer any and all of her questions, for she is inquisitive. Do this for me and I will be in your debt.”

“Father…” Alona gasped. “Of course! She shall be an honored guest! Uhm, what is your name?” she asked the girl. The girl looked at Alona for a short moment, then glanced at Chailiss.

“I’m, uh,” she looked at the fire, then to the childans gathered around, then to the far off trees, “I’m a tree- I mean, Tr… rruuu… ssaa. Trusa. That’s me. Yep. Definitely.” She glanced at Chailiss. “Right?”

“Hmm, perhaps. Perhaps not. A name is a powerful thing. Search yourself, learn from them and you shall see if Trusa is a fit, or not. For now I must leave but I promise, I will return.” he said, with an intense gaze. She nodded quickly.

“Okay! But if you take too long and I feel like wandering then I won’t wait!” She declared, crossing her arms. “And…” she glanced at Alona and leaned towards Chailiss with a lowered voice, “she’s your daughter?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Not exactly… I will explain when I return. So please, wait for me.” he gave a small smile and a quick nod to Alona then took off. Trusa - as she now called herself - stared after him with a raised eyebrow and huffed.

“Gosh. So mysterious.” She turned back to Alona, “so, are you his daughter?” She gestured behind her to where Chailiss was already disappearing over the horizon. “Because it needs a long explanation, apparently.”



After Chailiss Leaves Keltra


He left Zima behind, the guilt of it wracked him. He never even spoke to her and left his wayward champion at the mercy of Homura. He left, not because he wanted to, but because he needed to. His heart, it was too much to bear and he hated himself for it. Where he went a storm followed, dark and silent as his divinity raced across the sea and into the land. He would have gone straight to the coldest reaches of his realm and drowned himself in sorrow but something stopped him.

A remembrance, a small smile and a promise to return.

So Chailiss halted in his escape and turned back around. Back to the Site of the First Sin, where she waited. His daughter with a goddess he had never even seen. He knew not how it had happened, only that it had and by all accounts, he could not have another fall. It would destroy him utterly.

So he went back with the hope she had remained. He shook his head, for it was not hope that propelled him- but a need. He had to make sure she was alright. For his own sanity, for hers. So he flew and when he arrived in the twilight of the world, all was quiet. Those few sentries looked at him with reverence and others stared. How long had it been since he was last there? Time felt so differently…

“Where is she…?” he asked, his voice forlorn. The sentries looked to one another, silent. Before any of them could speak, however, Trusa exploded from the forest.

“You’re back!” She cried out, “you won’t bel-” she was cut-off as she fell forward and was propelled into Chailiss’ great form before settling on the ground in an untidy heap. “Yachtch,” she muttered into the ground.

Relief washed over him as he bent down to help her up. “It does my heart good to see you again. I am sorry it was not sooner.” She got up gibbering excitedly, then paused and took in his words.

“Oh. It’s okay. I mean, you had important things to be doing. God stuff and all that, very important- and mysterious. You know, I was busy too!” She smiled mischievously and turned around to the thick trees. “Well c’mon! Why are you hiding in there?” There was quiet for a few seconds. The sentries shuffled uneasily. The undergrowth rustled.

“I- uh. I’ve never met-” the dark-haired woman emerged from the dense thicket and stood there looking in all ways disheveled. “I wanted to do it right is all.” She glanced from Trusa to Chailiss, then brought a moonstone hand of a thousand hues of blue and green and black and grey and white to her hair and brushed the twigs and thorns and oddbits from it. Her eyes settled on Chailiss’ great form. “I- uh. I’ve been looking for you a long time, brother. You’re not easy to find- or, well, I guess I’m terrible at finding… stuff.”

Chailiss stepped forward, amiss. “You…” he breathed, “You are Rosalind? And you’ve been looking for me? What for?” he asked, his eyes going between Rosa and Trusa, the resemblance uncanny. More and more Childan began to show up to see the return of him, no doubt. Keeper Alona was there, waiting patiently. He briefly scanned the crowd until he saw a face of the dead… A voiran girl. Quickly he looked away from her inquisitive eyes. Perhaps there was some relief but he seldom brought happy tidings, didn’t he?

The goddess scratched her cheek. “I… I’ve been looking for you for so long that I almost forgot why, actually.” She chuckled sheepishly, and Trusa rolled her eyes.

“Just get to the point, Rosa. Like a spear!” Trusa told her, making a spearing motion with her hand.

“Oh, yeah, like a spear. Well, the thing is- uh.” Rosalind paused. “It doesn’t feel right Trus. Like, just jumping into the whole thing without introductions is a bit weird.” She glanced at Trusa, who was raising an eyebrow at her. Rosalind ignored her. “You- you’ve made something very beautiful here, Chailiss. Even from high up, beyond the sky, it looks beautiful. And now that I’m here I can see that it’s beautiful even from here. I- I guess I should thank you for making something so beautiful.”

“I… Yes. Thank you, Rosalind.” he nodded, with a small smile. “Oh, I cannot take all the credit. Zenia, Goddess of Revelry, helped me create this land and these people,” he pointed to the Childan, “were given as a gift by Homura, Goddess of Honor, and modified by me. But, yes, thank you. You are very kind.” Chailiss blinked rapidly. He felt embarrassed for some reason. Were words always so difficult to say?

Rosalind looked at Trusa and the giant childans. “Pretty as Trus is,” Rosalind grinned cheekily at the other girl, “she was not the reason I came. And neither were the childans, grand and majestic as they are. And it wasn’t even this landmass with all its forests and rivers and teeming life.” She scratched her forehead with a stone finger, then brushed a dark tress from her face. “It was… I don’t know, there was just something soothing about the world being capped with white. And there was the promise of cool… I liked that. I… uh, I was born with a fever of sorts, so the promise of cool struck me as both beautiful and healing. Serene in a way, you know? It brought me relief and steadiness when everything was quite confusing and frightening. So… yeah, it’s not Homura or Zenia I have to thank for that, but you.” She glanced down at her feet. “And… uh… I think… maybe that’s why you can help me.” She looked up and swallowed nervously. “B-but only if you want. You- you don’t have to if you don’t want to. All I said is still true even if you’d rather not. So- uh, don’t feel you have to.”

His eyes became riddled with concern. “I would be honored to help you, Rosalind, even if you had not said such kind words. I…” his voice faltered and he looked around, suddenly aware of all the mortals watching them. “Would you like to take a walk with me?” he asked in a quiet voice. The goddess glanced at the gathered people, then looked back at Chailiss.

“Uh… if you like, yeah.” Rosalind responded. Her eye caught on that of Trusa. “Oh, and can Tr-”

“Obviously I can,” the girl said dismissively, “as if you two can go off and expect me to sit around here.” She wheeled on Chailiss, causing Rosalind to jump, and wagged a finger at him. “I’VE DONE ALL THE SITTING AROUND I’M EVER GOING TO DO. YOU CAN’T MAKE ME DO ANYMORE OF THAT! IF YOU LEAVE WITHOUT ME, I’M GONE!”

Chailiss looked at her and tilted his head. “Ah that may be true but what might Rosa think of that? Leaving her companion by her lonesome.” he shook his head with a smirk. “All the same, Rosalind might feel lost without you at her side. Go on then, take her down that path,” he gestured, “And I will follow right behind you.”

Grinning from ear to ear, Trusa hooked her arm into Rosalind’s and half-dragged the goddess along with her. The goddess stumbled on her shifting feet, lost balance, then managed to right herself with Trusa’s help and walked alongside her with the odd skip or hop or trembling of her feet.

He watched them go for a moment, smile fading before he turned and beckoned to Alona. The Firekeeper came up to him and gave a slight bow. “I trust she was not too much trouble?”

The Firekeeper shook her head. “Nothing we could not handle, Spirit Father.”

“Good, very good. Later, I need to speak to the young Voiran girl there. The smaller girl with white hair. Do not speak of this to her but ensure she has someone close.” he whispered to Alona. She looked at him with steely eyes and nodded. Chailiss patted her on the shoulder, then walked off after Trusa and Rosa.



“Oh! I forgot to tell you. You know Chailiss told me the craziest thing,” Trusa chattered breathlessly as the two eerily similar women walked along, “He told me that you’re my mum!” The goddess paused in surprise and looked back at Chailiss, who was now following close behind, with bemusement.

“Uh- I- I’ve never-” Rosalind flushed crimson then turned back and continued walking. “I’m not a mother, so I don’t see how that could have happened. And, uh, I’ve never had a- a mate.” Trusa looked back at Chailiss, a smug look of affirmation on her face. “But I guess Chailiss would know better. The gods work in strange ways and maybe it did happen… somehow. We do look very much alike.”

“Divine… Creation, as it were, can come in many different shapes. One does not need to mate, in this case.” he said sheepishly. “That’s not to say reproduction couldn’t occur in such a way. I’ve never seen it with my own eyes but perhaps some of our kin have.” he followed quickly. Rosalind considered his words without casting a backward glance, then spoke.

“So… you’re my daughter.” She stopped where they were in the trees and placed her hands on the other woman’s cheeks, causing Trusa to protest and wave her hands away. The goddess sighed. “I- I would have liked to do it properly. To be there for you when you were little and helpless. To watch you grow…” the goddess muttered sentimentally - which Trusa did not like in the slightest.

“What? No! That’s stupid. And not important. I have better things to do than be small and helpless and- and- and cute and all that. Urgh.” She made as if to gag and Rosalind smiled at her antics, though her eyes betrayed a small sadness still.

“So she is my daughter? My… creation? As fatherless as I… as we are motherless?” Rosalind asked, turning her gaze on Chailiss.

He shook his head after a moment of contemplation. “I think all that matters is that she is here now, and you can still be a mother to her. Our creator is not our father in my eyes, but Trusa… she is not fatherless like we. For it was I who awoke her from her slumber and even now a bit of my divinity runs in her blood. Just like yours Rosa.” It took the goddess a few moments to appreciate the implication of Chailiss’ words, but Trusa had no such trouble.

“You’re my dad?!” She exclaimed - not so much shocked as excited. She turned to Rosalind with great animation, took her by the hand, and rushed the few feet to Chailiss. Rosalind let herself be dragged along but otherwise shied from looking at the winter god. “I was wondering why you were being so protective and bossy,” Trusa was laughing, “now it makes sense. Being all paternal and caring, eh?” She half-teased, then lay a hand on one of Chailiss’ great fingers. They were silent for a brief few seconds then, with Trusa grasping both her parents’ hands tightly. Rosalind could only look away shamefacedly and try to keep her feverish feet beneath her from shivering too much. When next she shot a furtive glance at Trusa, she was alarmed to find the white markings on the girl’s body shining brightly.

“Uh-” she looked at Chailiss even as her own feet began to shudder beneath her, “is that normal?”

He said nothing, but grabbed Trusa’s arm for a better look. “What is your aspect, Rosa? Mine is cold, and these markings are not of me. They seem to resonate with her excitement.”

The goddess’ eyes widened with fear. “Th- that’s-” she gulped, “I don’t think that’s my-” it was strange saying it, it had never felt like hers, “my aspect.” She glanced down at her feet, which were now beating against the earth, spasms shooting up her legs. “It’s…” a certain terror spread across her face and guilt wracked her eyes, “it’s the fever.” She tightened her grip on Trusa’s hand as the girl’s feet left the ground and she began ascending, the pure white light now pulsing from her eyes. “Wh- we need to do something,” Rosalind managed.

Chailiss held onto her, concern splayed out on his face. “I… What do we do? What is this Fever, Rosa?” He looked to her.

“It… it feeds on- like.” She had never expressed it before. “On sights, smells, sounds. They create emotions and- and the stronger those are- the stronger the fever gets. It feeds on emotions and then...” the goddess looked at Trusa, “and then it dances.” She gulped, seemed to realise that it did not sound bad at all, and continued. “D- dancing is not good. It’s bad. It’s destructive. We have to stop her.” She glanced down at her own feet; their movements had grown ever more intense. “Oh. Oh.” She released the girl and backed away. “I- I have to go.” She whirled on her feverish feet and half-tripped and half-skipped away. “I-it’s bad.”

“No! No, Rosa. Don’t leave! She needs you! I need you!” Chailiss called after her, his voice becoming frantic as Trusa began to lift ever higher and her form began to waver.

But Rosalind did not pause and her burning feet fizzled across the ground and she disappeared into the trees and was soon little more than an echo on the warming wind of the coming spring. Trusa, however, floated still on that sighing air - her head rocked back, her eyelids fluttered, grew heavy, closed; a long breath left her and then she was beyond breath, flesh, blood and the mundanities of mortal forms. There was nothing of her left but light, a light that danced and fluttered, shimmered and twisted and laughed and coaxed and teased - in every colour of the imagination it turned, as vapour and cloud it swirled. Her name then was exuberance, her name was joy, laughter, spring, hope; all that happiness was thought and imagined to be, she was - she was the child snoozing by the warmth of the flame, she was the mother nesting her newborn on her chest, she was the sapling greeting the resurgent sun, she was the light dancing in the depths of darkest night. She was, in sum, Aurora, and all mortal things looked on her dancing and wept for joyous relief and the purgation of all misery.

All mortals, aye, but not the immortal Chailiss. Chailiss watched on, a mix of horror and surprise etched like a river across his face. The sky danced and his children would rejoice in their long night of solace but at what cost? Why was there always a cost? First Zima… Now this dancing Aurora and even worse… His gaze turned to linger upon the spot where Rosalind had vanished. A terrible feeling came over him then and he looked to Aurora and a quivering whisper escaped his lips, ”I’m… Sorry.” The god of cold then sought to find the dancer.

It was not a difficult endeavour - for the shaking of earth and heaven found him first. There in the distance where land met sky a scene of limitless harmony and calm washed upon the eye. It could best be described as a slow-moving vortex of striking demureness - no sooner looked upon before its gaze retreated in bashfulness. She seemed a thing of air and ice; ten thousand limbs of earth thus splayed, ten thousand others flaring there - above, below, and circling round with curvature, great breadth, and length. It almost seemed (as Chailiss looked) that an artist’s eye had imagined her, his hand had made and breath ensouled. No stillness was in her at all - her movement seemed an afterthought; the world around her spiraled still and was splayed out as far as sight. In all ways she seemed to be a thing beyond the world and corporeal things, beyond earth, rain, wind, and flame - and yet a force she was, and great, with something of world-ending gait.

If horror had been etched upon his face before, now it only deepened into a canyon as he saw the land, its bones, life and all; annihilated in the maelstrom. His heart shattered as if it had been punched and then daggered by a cosmic giant. He felt nothing as the twisting pull of his power leeched outward into his divine form and thus race did he to stop such destruction while he could. As he flew he could only watch as trees became splinters, rock became dust, and the land wrent from existence. At the center of it all was She Who Danced, now more of a dark void - tenebrous hair flung in every which way and form unseen through it - that plunged the world into chaos. He summoned his weapon, the box of calamity and aimed it true, but despite what Rosa was doing, he did not have the strength to use it. Why? He was a stupid God.

He drew closer still and this proved to be a foolish mistake. The bangles around Rosa’s feet glowed as molten as the fiery sun and the final beat of her dance ripped his divine flesh asunder, pulling it from his being in most excruciating agony. There was nothing he could do as the orb that he was became nothing but the faintest blue heart. A pinprick that knew only of self preservation. Another mistake, for as bone and flesh and snow and ice tried to coalesce around that struggling shard- Rosalind’s bangles called forth again in the mightiest of crescendos and thus did Chailiss’ fleeting form break like cracks, pulled off his shard and the void claimed him. Thus the god of cold did fall in shock, now nothing more than that small blue flickering shard.

As for Rosa, the spirals all about her shrank, were nothing as her twirl collapsed - and all that remained to mark the dance was the cleft that would forever mar the world’s white head. Like a leaf - like wind-swept tears - Rosalind fell from her skybound dancing perch and smiled to think that hell was made for such as her; there was justice in the world.

Something did grab her as she fell, for as much agony as he was in, Chailiss was able to create the faintest of impressions to paint himself into the world. Nothing more than a shrouded, blue mist did wrap its arms around the fitting Rosalind. A weeping sigh did escape him as he carried her over a filling void. Where land once was, only ocean would claim. Where the sky once drifted unmarred, now rock danced forevermore. The land was sundered, the west in the North was gone. How long had it all transpired? How long…? How many dead? How many…?

The Aurora was over as he flew back now to mighty cliffs that once marked the entry to the west. Now they were a warning to never venture further. How many drowned in those crushing depths? How many…?

He searched and searched as Rosalind’s fit quieted. He at last found her, drifting in the setting sun, Trusa no more. Silent as a grave but not dead, no. What little relief it brought was held back only now by responsibility. He had failed. He always failed…

He took them to the coldest reaches, past all the green and the rocks and the blues. To the whitest of whites, where cold ruled eternal. Those that survived the calamity would endure, for spring had arrived, with a promise of hope, stifled only by the constant reminder of pain. Chailiss knew only shame and the heavy weight of fatherhood. Not that it mattered…

He set them, sleeping and fair, upon the snow as he raised a single, misty hand. He looked past what he could never become again, to the center of it all. There came from the ice a mighty palace of shimmering crystal. It towered over a towerless land, reigning true forever. Encircled by the mightiest of walls. As the ice formed he walked within, raven-haired damsels in either arm.

It would be a home.

No…

A prison.






In Divinus: The Deity Roleplay Mk. VI → 2 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
A Failed Bluff




Soaring across the vast sky flying farther and farther south, the little flame of life within the revenant stirred and spoke softly. “Hmm… I was wondering… how did you receive your name, Zima? Was it gifted to you, or did you choose it? What does it mean? Then I wonder, are you… fond of your name? Zima?” The faint voice of Fear asked, those words now echoing within the confines of her corrupted body with nowhere else to escape to, repeating endlessly, again and again. Fear’s questions were also accompanied by the sudden manifestation of shifting symbols across her scarred skin, as the possessed champion called upon the power of the Gnosis with an unknown purpose upon awakening. Despite the damage inflicted upon her body, mind, and soul - Fear’s flame flickered and danced with defiance.

“I was wondering when you would awake.” Zima’s voice was like a dagger, cutting at the flame that shielded her bit by bit. “What are you doing, Fear? Don’t try anything or you will die. And I mean that quite literally. I am the only thing keeping you alive. Also," She paused, "You should thank me instead of asking stupid questions.” There was a note of bitterness in her voice before the dagger relented it’s icy touch from her flame.

“Hmm… you answered the question with a question, hiding away from really answering it… Avoiding it. I’m not afraid of dying anymore, and I’ve already told you now. You can kill me if you wish… Now I wonder why you’d cage yourself inside my broken body if you’re free like those ghosts said? Is this freedom?” Fear continued to inquire and muse aloud, retaining her impassive tone unchanging even after she was a victim of being verbally lashed with effort. The stigma of sorcery still spread itself across her skin, a myriad of swirling and slithering stains consisting of esoteric shapes and patterns, yet she kept her spell silently still.

"Ah, not afraid of dying anymore are you?" Zima chided, "Is that because you find death easier than having to deal with the reality you have chosen? The one where you betrayed your family to free me, remember?" Her voice grew fiercer, "Please, if you knew what awaited you in the Underworld you would fight for life instead of choosing a coward's way out." Her sorcery began to darken as Zima leached into it.

“I will… face death at some point… indeed, I betrayed those I loved, to free you. I’m going to atone for my sins someday, but I want to see you safe and sound before I go. I’m not going to leave you alone to suffer. You’re my sister, after all.” Uttering those soft spoken words, all of the swirling runes and shimmering spirals of the sustained spell receded into Fear’s broken body, delving into the depths where her fire burned brightly and coalescing into a familiar shield of light. Her quiet voice still passed through the protective aura and resonated throughout her being, and she focused what remained of her willpower into preserving the spell.

“For now, I shall call you Sorrow…” She murmured, seeking another name for the being that she could not comprehend. If she was Fear, then she would travel with the one known as Sorrow, she mournfully thought. She called upon more of her strength, tapping into her memories of Courage and her resilient audacity - embracing that manner of bravery and foolishness.

"And you shall be Annoyance." Sorrow snapped back. "Let us be very clear about something; I am not your sister. I never was and I never will be. I'm not even human or whatever you are." She huffed, probing at the shield of light. "You seem to be under the impression that you are going to walk away from all this and be able to atone, Annoyance. Shall I let you in on a little secret? I am going to break your shield, pierce your heart and drown your flame until you and I are exactly the same. You removed my gifts and for that I shall give you one you may never relinquish." Sorrow assaulted her shield but it held, for now.

“Annoyance… that is my name? Thank you! I shall cherish it! I realize I may have made a mistake… if you’re not my sister, then perhaps you’re my brother? Hmm… it was our Father that removed your gifts, you know. And… I’m not going to walk away, or fly away, or just abandon you. We’re walking this path together - you possessing my body, piercing my heart, and drowning my flame… and I, always choosing to remain with you.” The newly named Annoyance announced with glee while she giggled to herself. Fear was not brave, but perhaps Annoyance could be? Fear would hide and seek shelter in the vain hope that all will be well, but with this change in name, she could be armored against the hurting aches that never ended.

Sorrow's anger welled like a tidal wave of endless dark, threatening to wash over everything. Then it abruptly halted and simmered out. When Sorrow spoke next there was little emotion in her voice, "Very well." Then her body flew downwards in silence before they landed. Sorrow began to walk.

“When you have found better company, I’ll lower the shield, and you can rid yourself of me. Or, you can wait, and I will flicker out anyway. I would rather you had someone beside you though. True suffering is being alone, I think.” Her cheerful voice became tinted with forlorn thoughts and memories, and Annoyance seemed to consider her next words carefully, speaking slowly. Fear was afraid and wanted to lash out, while Annoyance wanted to irritate Sorrow longer with vengeful teasing.

“I am glad we’re together. Black and white. Negative and positive. Like night and day, but different… somehow.” She was fumbling with conveying what she wanted to say, and there was a strange audible noise as her flame bit its own fiery tongue and became silent. Neither Annoyance or Fear were capable of commanding their speech when the other sought to undermine the first.

Suddenly Annoyance found herself looking through an eye. In front of them and the open plain was a strange sort of people gathered around a campfire. With horns on their heads and great steads by their sides. They hadn't noticed them yet, for Sorrow stuck to the shadows at the edge of any mortal vision. She then came to a halt. Her voice sounded inside again, bitter, "How much death will you be able to handle, I wonder?" She asked. "Perhaps they don't have to die, perhaps no one has to die while I occupy you. Just… Give into me. Lower the shield and let us be done with this charade."

Annoyance hummed gently as she answered, knowing that denying Sorrow would bring some pleasure. Fear valiantly attempted and failed to quell this division in her mind between despair and jubilation. “I understand the meaning of my name now, Brother, oh I understand, hehe. Hmm… I will not surrender to you. I’m sorry. I really am. There’s also no need to harm those people either, unless you’re seeking to satiate some other desire, Sorrow?”

"You may act as smug and cheerful as you wish, Annoyance. Just know that for every drop of blood that is spilled from here on out- the blame shall be yours alone. You wanted to be brave once, and courageous, yet now when you can fully save the lives of these people, what do you do? Hide away, Annoyance. At least you're honest with what you are." Sorrow's words bit into the shield but were repulsed. She then began to walk forwards into the creeping light.

“You’re mistaking me for my sisters. I’ve never been able to save anyone aside from myself after all. I can’t even accept the blame for hurting these people I don’t know, because I’ve no hands, no voice, and soon no spirit. Also… those people seem to lack blood, so it will be difficult to spill any, Brother.” Annoyance muttered with a tired sigh before she fell silent once more, merely observing whatever was about to unfold. Fear struggled against herself, despising the fact that there truly seemed to be nothing she could do. Only the lies she told herself and others remained.

"You did save someone. Me. But so be it. Blood or not, you shall hear their screams as I use your body to kill them." Sorrow spoke with malice, before her hand of ice manifested a blade of ice. "May your Maker forgive you." The whisper came from every direction and then Annoyance could see Sorrow leap forth with unnatural clamor to pierce one from behind.

He gave a sucking sound and then fell over dead as the rest exploded with screams and fury. Perhaps if they had tried they'd have been able to understand their language but Sorrow blocked everything out but the pain and fear and drove it into Annoyance's shield as she cut more down. They fought back with sticks and stones and spears but it was pointless. Sorrow, even in her body, was too strong.

She cut down a fleeing woman and as her body dropped a small child fell as well. She cried with her large eyes, pawing at her mother to wake. Sorrow raised her blade high. "Don't do this!" Fear cried out, though she could not shed any tears or tremble with grief. She was trapped and encircled by the insidious and the vicious.

But there was nothing the anxious champion could do as a sealed away spectator, aside from desperately calling outwards and praying she was heard while great despair continually gnawed upon her fracturing mind, akin to a nightmarish beast that howled and clawed its way through shattered glass. Fear had endured terrible pain and torture before, but the sight of such wretched carnage again awoke the lurching ache in her small spirit once more. It seemed as though she would be struck against the crucible of cruelty until she was completely broken.

Now she was confronted with so many conflicting paths; she wished to help others, and yet those she saved birthed more suffering. She sought to become strong and stand up for herself like a beacon of light in the darkness, and yet she repeatedly wished her sisters were here to protect her from the frightening shadows she saw all around. She was told by the one who created her that she would teach humanity, her beloved kin, to be afraid of evil by becoming their fear, and yet she fought to be a hero, to be an inspiration. These internal contradictions and many more within Fear created a chaos that was overwhelming what little willpower she possessed, and Annoyance allowed herself to laugh bitterly at her other self who struggled to speak through her own muted weeping and lamentations.

"Please stop." Fear sobbed, hopelessly pleading with the one that imprisoned her.

"Ahhh, so you do care." The mocking whisper came as carnage lay about. Those who were left alive fled that camp with their lives, those dead did not move. There was no blood but it was still a sickly sight. Both eyes stared at the small child before them, still crying over her mother as Sorrow held her blade high, poised to let it fall at any moment. "Tell me Fear, for I know it's you, what is the value of a life? Is this child's soul lesser than your own? Would you condemn her to die, she who has yet to live, to save yourself? I can stop of course, she can live but, what are you willing to give me if not what I already want?"

Fear barely answered, her voice repeatedly assailed by the cacophony of combative thoughts and feelings seeking to twist and warp her words. “I would… give you love. I’d protect you. Please, you can save all of us.”

Without a moment of hesitation, the blade fell and the child grew silent. Sorrow then dropped the blade to the ground, where it turned to water. “Look what you made us do.” She whispered to Fear. All around them the wind blew and Fear bore witness to the carnage one last time, before Sorrow retook her given eye.

“Let this be a reminder; I am in control. Further defy me and we shall bring more pain and suffering to any we come across. Your love is meaningless. Your protection is meaningless. You’ve already fallen Fear. how long will it take you to realize that?” Zima’s emotionless voice echoed all around her and before long they were moving again.

“I refuse to fall. When will you realize that?” Fear faintly replied while what remained of her spirit swam through light and shadows within her possessed body. She could hear Annoyance muttering to herself, “Idiotic… such foolishness…” and she attempted to suppress the sound, but there was no success, and she suffered both the slow sundering of her mind, and the torture of her revenant jailor.

Zima gave a hollow laugh and to the sky they took off into the unknown.




In Divinus: The Deity Roleplay Mk. VI → 2 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Afflicting Circumstances




Zima fell upon her hands and knees into the pond's sandy beach. It sent ripples across its glassy surface, breaking the tension. It was an action that would have killed Fear's own body, had she been in control of it. Her body was, by all accounts, complex yet simple. No mere mortal would have survived having their head caved in and blinded by their own stupidity. But Fear had, because she wasn't just some mere mortal. She was born of clay and stone, her inner fire and water kept her alive and any more spillage would have sent her water out. It would have been a laughable way to die.

As the northern sky lay ablaze with lingering light that turned night to day, Zima shook her head.

Fear was too valuable, at least for now. A bargaining chip perhaps? But more or less a useful, gullible, tool. She already had plans for her, whether Fear was willing or not. But first things first, she would do her small act of kindness for what Fear did to free her and that would be finding her a new body. Or fixing this one. But as Zima looked into stilling water, her reflection made one thing abundantly clear- Fear was not the smartest of her sister’s.

Zima had done what she could, filled the cracks and splinters with her own presence. Crimson smoke poured out those wounds. But more nefarious was how she had stopped the trauma to her head from spreading. It was not Fear’s own eyes that looked back up at them, for she had quite literally smashed them to pieces, but Zima’s. She had filled the gap in Fear’s head with her own, molding it to fit in a vague shape that could have passed for Fear, if it was more tangible and solid. She had even given her some hair back, now streaked with black. It was the only practical decision she had to make, otherwise her vessel would have died.

She pawed at her chest, stone swirling with crimson. Zima grimaced. There was one spot that hadn't been cracked when Fear hit the wall, much to her annoyance. It was where Fear holed herself up from Zima's corrupting influence. Her heart, with a little bit of flame to keep it going. Her presence was weak everywhere else, almost nonexistent but it was there and Zima could not allow it to spread. She needed to break her heart once and for all.

That was the true goal. Bend Fear to her own will and turn her against her sisters.

For now, she would etch away at it. They had all the time in the world after all, for without Zima, Fear would be dead in her exile. All Zima needed to do was search for solutions in this strange new world she found herself in. She had flown far enough away that Keltra was a distant memory or it would be if they didn't come and try to find them with that boat. Her anger boiled just thinking of all those gifts her father gave them. What had she ever gotten?

Abandonment.

Zima punched the water, sending droplets flying. These girls really were coddled. Innocent, doe eyed fawns. Well, even the innocent could fall and they were well on their way. She could break them all by breaking one. That would show them for overstepping their bounds.

She still didn't understand why Fear had gone through all the trouble to break her out. And who even were those others? They had a strangely familiar presence yet something told her there was no way Fear was working with them. Was it all a coincidence?

Zima let out a frustrated sigh. She stood up and gathered her surroundings. This red foliage was beginning to get on her nerves. There was little iteration to it and she had not the strength yet to do anything about it. She unfurled her wings and began to flap them. It was time to keep heading away.

“Still here?” a crackling whistle of a voice abruptly sounded from the treeline behind her. With the corner of an eye, she saw smoke drifting out from among crimson trunks. “The whole land will no doubt be ablaze in no time now. You should keep going until you no longer see red.” The voice hesitated before continuing - or was it another, distinct but identical, following on its heels? “How precious were you to them to stir them so?”

Zima used her wings to turn with a few flaps. She held her broken head high, eyes fixed upon the trees and smoke. She tilted her head ever so slightly, lips turning thin. “Precious-” She began to speak, pausing as the sound of Fear’s voice rang out. “Enough.” she finished. Where once Fear’s voice had been weak and diminutive, now it sounded stronger, more defined but cold and withdrawn. Zima hated it all the same but it would do for now. “And who might you be, hiding in the shadows?” she asked.

“The shadows,” the voice flatly repeated, as though the words were in themselves answer enough. Three red eyes met her look from within the caliginous swirl. “We are what remains when all is stripped from life, down to itself. As are you. As is she, now.” The cloud drifted closer now, and it was three shades, even as those she had seen at Keltra. One of them raised a coiling strand of vapour towards her. “We are Eschatli. Welcome among the rejected, sister.”

Zima stood firm, holding out a hand and allowing the Eschatli's smoke to coil around her pointer finger. So they weren't all alone after all. Wasn't that great, Fear? She drove the thought into her host's sleeping conscious, followed by an image of the Shades before her. "So alike, yet different all the same. Curious..." Zima said to herself. "It was you who came to free me, along with this foolish thing." With her other hand she waved over her vessel. "Why? Do you feel akin to me? We rejected few."

“More than that,” the wraith who had spoken undulated, “One thing was left to you that was denied us.”

“Freedom,” another added, “You don't have to carry the weight of an Eye ever upon you. The favoured playthings of the gods are always bare for you to mar, at your whim and not that of brooding fate.”

“You can do so much more than us,” the third finished, “It were a shame to let you, too, languish in your master’s chains.”

"Ahh," Zima clasped her hands together, "You are enslaved. Such a pity indeed that we few are used so. But you have my thanks, or what's left of it, for helping free me. In fact, I would even go so far to say that I am in your debt. Or we, in this case. If I could break your chains, I would, but some bonds run deep." She next sighed. "Where are my manners? After all you have told me your name… names?" She shrugged it off and gave a slight bow, "I am Zima, this vessel is known as Fear. Soon to change."

“It is a fine enough name, for all her clay could be worth,” one cloud arched overhead like a stretching, drooping slug and glanced down at what remained of the champion’s head, “Pity her, Zima, for she has known our thraldom without our unity, and like us she has but passed from one hand to another.”

“But as long as you have enough, so will she,” another rolled nonchalantly, “Where shall you now, extinguished flame?”

"Do not worry, I feel nothing but pity for this one. She wishes to change me but I think by the end, it will be quite the opposite." Zima mused. "As for now, I shall head as far away from Keltra as I can. I need to fix this body and secure her… Freedom. Many will come to look for me, I shall have to find a good place to hide for a time, I think. What will become of you three?"

“So long as we are Three of Seven, we'll never want for something to waste our time,” swayed the last of them, “Doom knows no rest, so neither must we. You, however…"

She coiled about the revenant, and with the others she spun into a circling ring.

"You should not waste what you have now. What can any do to you that you haven't suffered already? Roam free, defile, despoil. Our spark will be a little warmer just for it."

Zima took them all in, wings folding behind her back. She placed one hand to Fear’s heart. "I will gladly do this for you, sisters. Wherever we go, suffering follows."

"Such is the way of things." The circle swayed. Were the Three still Three? Was there only One left with her? She could not see. "Go now, the world awaits you with its joys."

"To the south, there is an unspoilt garden of peoples, with none but measly leeches picking at it," another voice - or was it the same one? - continued, "To the east, many a divine finger is sunk in one small valley, ripe and vulnerable in its charges. To the north, the Sun's own eye dotes on the futile vehemence of the sand-dwellers. Which will you spite first?"

Zima thought a moment. She wanted to stray clear of any divine influence for the time being. South was the only option.

"I shall take us South and see what might transpire. It has been oh so lovely meeting you. Do take care and break the bonds that hold you." Zima said to them, unfurling her wings.

"Not too loud, now," the Eschatli chuckled in a nimbic crackle as they stretched and broadened their ring, giving way for her to take flight, "Or someone might think you speak in earnest. Travel well, sister, and don't forget what you are in the world."

"Of course." Zima murmured and then she was gone, leaving the Eschatli to return to the shadows. Three eyes followed her umbral trail as it blurred into the sky.

"How long before the underworld changes its mind about her?" asked one.

"If she was lucky, it would forget her," answered another, "But luck is down there now. If she's to defeat the end, she must do it herself."


In Divinus: The Deity Roleplay Mk. VI → 2 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Journeys V




The owl champion’s mind was left to his own devices as he flew. He dwelled upon what he had learned. His sibling was dead, fallen at the hands of the Green Murder. He had never met his sister, yet he felt a profound sense of loss. Now he was alone, flying to the obelisk of the Goddess of Joy. Perhaps it would bring him some sort of comfort. Perhaps.

So Viho, as he always did, flew.

It only took him around a day to find the obelisk. How could one miss the black stone standing in the field of endless white?

He approached and landed down before it. There was no sign of anything. No animals, no mortals, not even chirping birds. Just the wind. With a curious he looked upon the intricate details of the black stone and became enamored with its beauty. But Viho had a task to do and he would do it. Cautiously he approached the looming, towering obelisk as close as he felt necessary. Just so he could reach out and touch it. Anticipation jolted down his spine as his feathers brushed the obelisk.

He waited for something to happen. But after brushing the cold stone with gas feathers some more, he was disappointed. Perhaps his feet would work better? So the owl hopped forward and placed his talons upon it but likewise, nothing happened. It felt much the same.

How was he supposed to find Zenia if he couldn't use the obelisk? Frustration set in as Viho tried a variety of methods to unlock the obelisk but each resulted in failure. The last attempt he made was bashing his head into it. Not so hard to cause any sort of damage but enough to give him a headache. After that the Owl Champion sunk low, wings sprawled out as he shut his eyes tight.

He was tired and upset and out of ideas. Slowly the chorus of wind and the dipping of the sun eased his body and mind into a needed sleep. It had been so long…

He dreamed a strange dream. The place around him was not the Giantlands or anything he had ever seen yet. Marbled stone, etched with finery and details he could hardly decipher stood all around him. He walked through the hallways, it was so bright but he was unbothered by it. Next thing he knew he was staring at a being so profound and grand, with that tear across its chest, that he felt… Excited? There was no fear here, how he missed his friend, but just Joy. He looked down at his own two hands, sun kissed and dainty. He felt his long golden hair and radiance fit for a stellar queen. He bounced over to a mirror and laughed when he saw beauty looking back at him.

Then Viho woke with a fright. He ruffled his feathers and stood up and gazed upon the obelisk under a shattered moon. So that was the trick. Sleep? But what if… With determination in his eyes, he pressed his head against the Obelisk one last time and willed it to obey.

Blinking lights struck out at him as his vision became muddied and brighter. Soon enough he was no longer in the Giantlands again. He caught bits and pieces, white hair, faces of mortals with wide eyes, crowded around and whispering. Anticipation built in the air. He somehow knew he was the woman from before, no, this was Zenia wasn't it? He stripped herself and he felt embarrassed but soon enough she was up in the air, watching her mortals faces slowly disappear as she flew higher and higher. High enough that Viho could make out the land and ocean and etched it to memory. The vision faded as the earth below became a giant orb. He blinked and it faded.

The dawn was rising now and Viho puffed out his chest. He had done it despite the odds. Maybe a bit of sleep now and then wouldn't be so bad after all? He would consider it but for now, he had a ways to go.




In Divinus: The Deity Roleplay Mk. VI → 2 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Shadows Over Keltra


Part I




Five black trails wove through the haze of an oceanic cloud-bank, crossing and winding like threads trying to sew together the ephemeral white mountain before it was inevitably pulled apart by the winds. Below, a dark blue plain ran around and ahead of its shadow, an immense silky drape creasing under the pulls and tugs of countless unseen hands. It was a cloudy day over the waves, and the sapphire ever so often became lead, but the five leapt and breached above the impalpable snowy cap, coiling and dancing in the undiluted sunlight like earthen sprites atop a mountain.

“Even she will have rested there, who was never of ours,” one of the sisters suddenly mused as she cavorted in a spiral through fraying fringes.

“And she has also had her rest in death, which she was never destined to,” another answered, “So what of it?”

A third laughed lightly. “Everything ends up there, but she most of all had it written in her fate. Isn’t that true, sister?”

The three-eyed spectre who flew ahead of the rest did not reply, but bobbed up and down before diving into the white.

“To jump into the stream as she did is the gesture of someone who is fated,” the third concluded.

“And still, death has spat her out,” the fourth Eschatli pointed out as she twirled above the others.

“That too has to be fate. What else?” answered the third without missing a beat.

“Then you mean that what we do now will be fate also, and not a strike against it, as we’d rather have it?”

“Think about that later,” the second quieted them, “Or, better, not at all. If we start thinking like him, then we’ll have already lost.”

As if to sweep away that grim thread, the Outsider sang gently from the clouds:

“Her home is like some crystal urn
Upon whose cold and carven side
Glyphs of cerulean sparkles glide
In scrolls that wander and return;

How fair and strange the art thereof!
But, irony supreme, within,
The poisonous black dust of sin
And ashes from dark pyres of love.”


The celestial island ended, baring the ocean to an iridescent cascade of sun-rays, and a dark strip rose out of the water at the horizon. The Eschatli circled one last time through the milky fog, hung still high under the First Light for a moment, and dived down to where the earth met the sky.



Gentle music continued to fill the Keep of Keltra, as its inhabitants preoccupied themselves with mostly mundane affairs. Beside the great Eternal Fire, Kindness and Curiosity tended to Rowan as the quiet trio bathed in the warm radiance of the blazing monument; letting joy and comfort seep into them, and slowly lull them into a serene trance, akin to the peaceful slumber of their dormant kin all around. Pride held onto her scepter, and continued her exploration of the land with the Incantation of Seeing, focusing her attention upon the Garden of Hevel and the activities there. Courage sought out the Recusant, seeking to engage in conversation with the only other awakened beings in Keltra. Lastly, Fear paced back and forth, watching the rest of her sisters and anxiously waiting for the opportune time to arise.

Xan was standing watch by Zima’s prison, with Core-Soth right next to him muttering something about the impracticality of the room having entryways when one of the champions had the ability to simply create and uncreate walls. Core-Amul was in earshot, shaking his head as he stood guard over the sleeping humans alongside his patrolling comrade, Core-Repha. Core-Garren and Core-Orphi were out in the workshop, while Core-Naulty, Verdin, and Thiddock all had left that morning with Core-Lorelei to gather reinforcements at the Gardens — which left Cosi-Dern as the final soldier.

The Cosi was standing by Courage, his face hidden behind his mask as he listened to her words.

“So, you’ve decided to bring reinforcements here, but what about our brothers and sisters elsewhere? Our sleeping kin need protecting, ya, but there’s also those that need help against the dangers of the outside world. Our Maker hasn’t mentioned much about her own plans, but I was wondering what ideas you may have? Whether Apostate has said anything, or something like that? I’m mostly checking in to just see where my sisters and I can be of help.” Courage simply smiled as she asked her questions, fascinated by the presence of the altered humans and their objectives.

“The Recusant Army currently operates in reach of the Garden of Hevel, but we have plans to expand. So in short, our current operations stretch across center Termina. The biggest challenge right now is determining an effective strategy to move resources and troops long distances reliably and consistently. Keltra is our furthest garrison and it’s severely lacking at the moment, being cut off from general supply.” Dern folded his arms behind his back. “It doesn’t help that this garrison is under a shared command.”

Courage chuckled upon hearing his answer. “We’ve shared the same challenge; trying to move so many of our kin as well. When Asshole finally learns his lesson, maybe we can ask him to make more colossi that we can operate and use for transportation?”

Dern blinked at Courage. “Astus is the leader of the enemy, he’s not going to make tools for us. If anything, that should go to show you why this is so important. The enemy forces already have reliable access to transportation. We are lagging behind dangerously in that regard.”

“I meant after we teach him some manners, ya. After the gods settle their dispute or whatever it is they are doing, we’re going to have to work together, right? So we can ask him then. There’s also another way to get here, but we need help from another god. I think he’s sleeping though, so… we’re stuck waiting.” With a sigh, Courage gave a shrug and glanced towards where the rest of her sisters gathered.

“You talk about it so lightly.” Cosi-Dern crossed his arms. “Do you know what’s going on?”

Courage nodded. “I’ve seen it, but we’re stuck here.”

Cosi-Dern interrupted, and held out a hand. “No, it seems you don’t. Astus or Hevel, myself, the Primes, and the Recusant Army — many of those names will be obliterated and will die by the end of this. A lot of things are going to die. While your sister sat here and wasted her power on music and dancing, I’ve been picturing the reports, thinking about the casualties. This isn’t a game, this isn’t a family, no one is going to win and then say let us work — no one may very well win. This is a spiral of entropy, and at least a few of us are rebelling with what time we are given.”

Courage tilted her head as she looked at the masked man beside her. “You mortals and your limited perspective…”

Cosi-Dern let out a sharp snort. “If all you plan on doing is looking down on me with insults, you can leave. Go pretend somewhere else.”

“Always assuming, sort of like our Maker…” Courage continued.

“Did you not hear me? Are you also deaf?” Cosi-Dern held out his hand pleadingly.

“Always concerned about death, but blind to the beauty of life…” She spoke as though she were indeed deaf, or had not heard him at all.

“Smoke be damned, why are you still here insulting me?”

“Neither of us are insulting each other, brother.” Courage said, raising a hand as well.

“I disagree, you’re being a bitch.” Cosi-Dern rested his hand on the hilt of his blade. “Just like Pride, you dismiss us because we think differently than you, I don’t need any more of that in my short life. Now leave me alone, I have a job to do.”

Courage shook her head and crossed her arms. “Come on, don’t be like that. I’m not dismissing your ideas, but I think you need to see a bigger picture if you’re going to lead your people.”

“Who am I to argue with the one who knows everything.” Sarcasm dripped through Cosi-Dern’s mask, the recusant soldier taking steps back. “You’re more than welcome to prosthelytize to my gravemarker once I’m either nagged to death or slain.”

“So you’ve given up already?” Courage asked.

“I know a lost cause when I see one.” He shook his head and mumbled a few more words under his breath. “Smoke forbid a moment where you people could see eye to eye.”

“There’s times when we all have to accept defeat, but I don’t understand why you seem so intent on hastening your demise? Shouldn’t you want to live?”

“Pah! There is no greater moment in a recusant life than when we get to die,” Cosi-Dern replied.

“I’ve yet to meet Voi, but I think he’ll find it sad that there are those among the living that so readily seek out death. You’ll get the opportunity to ask him for me when you die, and I suppose there will come a day when I stand with my grief over your grave, Cosi-Dern. I’m not looking forward to that day.” Courage peered at her hand, as if lost in thought or seeking an unseen answer in her palm.

“Ah well, don’t feel too bad when it happens unless you’re the one who killed me,” Cosi-Dern offered, “the day I die will likely be sooner rather than later. I’m a burner after all.”

“As one who knows everything; accept that it’s a truth that you’re not a burner. Not to me, at least, so just try to not die, ya. We’re all warriors, but we have to remember what we’re fighting for. We can’t spend our whole lives fighting, or you’re right, and nobody wins.” Courage chuckled again, and smiled at the soldier once more.

“No, I don’t think you understand.” Cosi-Dern waved his hands. “I am a burner. I don’t have a lot of years left to live. Some of the infected become burners, we burn many times as hot at the expense of our lifespan. It’s all hazeries and fighting for me… and leading the vanguard at Keltra, of course — so I guess no hazeries.”

“I propose an alternative then, but it’s your choice. Just to be certain, your goal is to protect your family, right?” Courage inquired, gesturing around her and the area with one hand.

Cosi-Dern stood up straight. “My task is to lead the vanguard garrison in setting up a secure perimeter to then ensure that the humans present at Keltra don’t fall into the hand of the enemy.”

“What about after that? Do you have any other goals? This is prevalent to your task, I’ll add.” Courage questioned, peering at his mask, as though she were attempting to see beyond it, even beyond his face, to what lay behind the exterior.

“Are you asking me,” Cosi-Dern’s voice softened, “what would I do if I could do anything?”

Courage stepped back, as though she were struck by his words. She blinked in confusion, and thoughts seemed to race across her eyes, until she became very still. “I… I am.”

Cosi-Dern slowly and quietly inched his blade from its resting spot only so much as to show the every start of the sharpened edge. “You see this edge?”

Courage nodded, and smiled slightly. “I do.”

“I’d put it in the eye of whoever thought the creation of this realm was a good idea,” Cosi-Dern finished before slamming the blade back in its spot. “Then I could die happy, for all the good that’ll do.”

“I like hearing some of that defiance! It’s hard to find with all the fatalism you spout. Well, let me explain my alternative then; your current system is greatly flawed considering you’ll be dead in a few years! I don’t know if Apostate plans on remedying this flaw, but if not, I want to offer you the chance to join my sisters and I on the Sacred Path. You’ll then have a shot of what you said before… a shot at being able to do anything.” Courage said, extending her hand towards him in invitation of what she promised.

“If that path has anything to do with how awful your sister treats me and my soldiers, I think you know what my answer is. Contrary to whatever ideas you may have of us, we don’t abandon our comrades.” The Cosi looked away from Courage and to the sleeping humans — or rather the clay vessels that they were. “We’re only here because of those right there.”

“The Sacred Path is what you seek if you don’t wish to abandon your comrades. It's what you seek if you want to prevent further theft. It’ll be our answer to our accursed fates, and give you the power to face your creator and the creator of this realm, ya. To be explicit, my sisters and I can give you the power to change your fate.” Courage stated, placing her hands on her hips nonchalantly.

“You’ll have to speak plainly, I’m just a mortal,” Cosi-Dern replied, no ounce of submission in his tone.

“That’s the chain used to cage us, so I’m offering to make you immortal. I’m offering to make you a god, ya. At least, I’m offering the chance to become one.” Courage answered.

The commander crossed his arms. “That’s a really weird thing to say without an explanation.”

Courage shrugged with an abundance of mirth. “I’m quite weird. I can’t see ahead on the Sacred Path, only guess at things. Anyway, as a mortal, you’ll always be limited in your power, behind the divine, or beneath them, if you like. My sisters and I were given the power from our Maker to walk beside her. Through a ritual, we can give you that same power, and you may be able to ascend, or something like that. Hopefully, that makes sense to you.”

“You have my curiosity if nothing else, but before you say anything further, I'll say that my answer is absolutely not — unless you can show me the benefits through the combined actions of yourself and your sisters as beneficial and good. Lead by example and all that, if you have faith in yourself and your sisters, and show me and the others that you're all capable of something good, then I’ll give your offer another look.” The Cosi rested his hand back on his blade and scanned Courage from behind his mask. “Reasonable?”

Courage bowed before the soldier, and spoke from her bent position. “Will you not accept my offer now?”

“Not before I see the fruits of its labor reflected in its disciples.” Cosi-Dern took a step back.

Courage slowly straightened herself, and nodded. “I can only give you a choice… You’ve seen what I’ve to offer, and I’ve told you what I promise for the future. My invitation remains while you still yet live, brother.”



Fear watched as Kindness and Curiosity had closed their eyes, resting with Rowan now, while Pride remained in her trance, her vision far away from here. She looked to where Courage and the one leading the soldiers continued their conversation, and was thankful that their attention was not on her. This was her opportunity.

With delicate steps, she approached the inattentive Keeper of Keltra, betraying no hint of her hidden intentions. It seemed as though she merely sought company, the comforting feeling of Pride in her arms like the rest of her sisters had so often seeked after their return - earning each of them complaints and harmless whacks on the head. The irony is that there was a part of her that truly did wish to only hold onto her small sister, and forget this plot that would endanger her family.

Fear moved to embrace the small champion from behind, pretending to playfully hug her sister for any that may glance in their direction, but before she could turn back, before she could give up on her plan, Fear called upon the Gnosis, letting the shifting symbols cover her body, and then did what she thought was necessary. Her hands swiftly grasped the blue pendant, and shifted the accessory through the body of her sister and into her own possession. There was no reason to avoid rushing now, and with a hurried pace, Fear began her trek towards the prison containing Zima.

She could sense the growing unease as she neared the prison; her ruse was quickly becoming apparent, and now she could only pray that all went well. Her Wings of Light emerged and she flew towards her destination at high speed, reaching out with the power of the pendant to begin the process of freeing Zima. In the blink of an eye, she stood at the doorway as though she had stood there when the prison was first erected, and she watched as the ice began to viciously crack down the middle to reveal the revenant it held in its cold grasp.

Fear held up her frozen hand and summoned frigid cages around both soldiers, frosted threads intertwining until two glaciers stood beside the winged champion. Within the cell, more of the ice parted, and began to let go of Zima while Fear looked behind her, taking in the fact that all were now aware of her betrayal.

“Listen! You must flee! Get up quickly!” Fear called out to the revenant. Zima was unresponsive but the prison was shattering more and more with each passing second.

At the edge of her vision, black shades blossomed to fill the corner of her eye. There was a roar as Core-Amul rushed to the scene from his periphery post, but before he had time to approach her, something inky and nebulous burst from one of the higher gates. A cloud of charcoal smoke rolled across the chamber, splitting into five shapeless, spectral nimbi as it advanced. Each of the shades held its single crimson eye fixed on her, save for one, whose three lobes swept an expressionless glance over the fortress’ interior. Then it sharply veered aside, followed by two of the others, and lunged for the closest inanimate vessels, even as the remaining two rushed towards the locule and - she could see now - the crumbling block beside her.

Uncertainty struck Fear who had not expected the arrival of these wraiths, but she couldn’t hesitate lest her betrayal was for nothing. She flew into the prison, and grabbed onto Zima, tossing another shield of ice to block the doorway for those that pursued her. She swiftly intoned the Incantation of Sending, surrounding herself and Zima with more otherworldly runes, and then with a burst of strength lifted herself and the revenant through the back ceiling of the prison. There was a clang of metal as the blade of Mourning loosened from Zima’s grasp to drop upon the red stone and melting ice of the prison floor.

They passed through the scarlet stone as though it were merely smoke, and the second to last obstacle in freeing Zima was overcome. The dark champion was still out of it however, a very thin layer of ice, almost like frost, covered her still. All that remained for Fear to avoid was Pride and those unknown trespassers, but it seemed she was fortunate in that regard.

Kindness, Curiosity, and Pride were focused on protecting their helpless sleeping kin, calling forth thousands upon thousands of stone hands that shielded them, the vessels, and the Recusant, from the three wraiths. So truthfully, there was only Courage to contend with, but her sister wouldn’t leave Keltra because of her condition… Fear desperately hoped.

The brash champion was blazing with sacred power, having rushed past the soldiers directly towards her. Fear didn’t need the connection they shared to see the great rage of her sister as she approached, and a deep sense of dread washed over her. The feeling was accompanied by her sister’s thoughts threatening her with the promise that Courage would indeed split her skull open when she reached her. Fortunately for Fear, Courage couldn’t fly.

A chill stronger yet than the touch of the thawing Zima swept through her legs as the two smoke-spirits that had darted in pursuit swept by, brushing her with their cold trails. They did not swerve to follow her, but instead whipped down to interpose themselves between her and Courage.

One of the two threw her an impatient glance with its eye and hissed "Keep going!" Its voice was the dulled whistle of a flame through the air, and before the surprise at its ability to speak had left Fear, it hurled itself at her sister along with its companion, spitting out tongues of grey fire at the grounded champion.

Sheathed in cosmic flames flickering with a myriad of colors, Courage lashed out with a flurry of blows; striking away the torrent of fire directed at her with blurred fists that burned the air around her. “Fear!!! Come back now! Don’t do this!” She shouted, and continued her dash from below despite the attacks from above.

All of Keltra seemed to stir, the entire Keep shifting and molding as the scarlet stone shaped itself into a multitude of limbs warding away the trespassers. Shadows danced across the floor composed of over a hundred thousand hands covering the Recusant and those that slept peacefully during this encounter. From near the bright Eternal Fire, a massive upright palm with curved towering fingers arose from the floor, and seated in the center of the palm stood Kindness, Curiosity, and Pride.

The otherworldly music that filled the vast hall seemed to understand the dire nature of the situation, changing into an intense melody evoking both the tension and awe of incredibly powerful forces at work. The voice of the small champion reached all from afar, echoing throughout the keep. “Cease this nonsense, and come here, sisters!” She called out.

If the three shades that had broken from the flock harboured any doubt that her words might be addressed to them, they gave no sign of it, much as they did not flinch at the spectacle of such puissant marvels. They stubbornly bore down upon the stony shell that had formed around the inanimate bodies, before scattering at the last moment before impact and weaving among the still coalescing limbs further away. The three-eyed one swayed and billowed along to the crescendos of the ambient tune, and its movements seemed to guide the others, for they dove and lunged in a way that preempted the hands' interlocking reaching - so that when an instant later the last ones closed over their charges, the wraiths were likewise trapped beneath them.

“You would hide before the Keeper of Keltra, a Herald of Honor, Daughter of Homura, and wisest among the Sacred Sextet! There is nowhere you can conceal yourself here, for I see with the Gnosis, and the Eternal Fire rejects you! You shall not bring harm to these children!” The thunderous voice of Pride reverberated throughout the scarlet stone as each hand was seeded with the sound of her ordainment and sprouted numerous small simulacrums of the little champion that repeated her words. Her mind was joined by Kindness and Curiosity assisting her processing, allowing her to easily concentrate on multiple tasks, while sustaining her spells. She traced each of the wraiths that thought themselves hidden, and excavated them with shifting stone.

Beside her, Kindness and Curiosity had begun to dance, calling upon their spirit and the power of the Gnosis. Pride observed that the former imbued the scarlet stone with greater resilience and swiftness, while the latter empowered her Shield of Faith in preparation for any further danger that may arise. However, with the absence of Wanderer, there were not enough of their own forces to defeat these trespassers and prevent their escape with Zima. “Let us resolve this peacefully, sisters! I will not offer a second time, and you have no power here!” She proclaimed, and could only pray to the Divine for a peaceful resolution, though she did not foresee such an occurrence with her spell.

The last of the frost finally began to melt away from Zima, ushering in a loud gasp from the dark champion as she began to squirm with animation. Fear's protective barrier against Zima's withering also began to fade and eat at her. The frail demon looked around her and down below to witness what was transpiring. A moment later Zima slowly moved her head to gaze upon Fear, frost and what little ice remained, cracked as her body stilled. Her crimson coals burned as she looked Fear up and down, a thin frown forming on her dark lips as they fled farther from the fight.

"It would be you to free me. Did I leave such an impression?" She asked with a somber tone, darkening a strand of Fear’s hair as she twirled it with a slow finger. "I would thank you but one should not coddle the foolish." She let out a small sigh. "Oh but if it helps your heart any, I am sorry for what comes next, Fear. But you should have let me be."

Fear shook her head with apprehension and scowled at the Revenant. “The gratitude is appreciated, but we fools aren’t free yet!" With as much haste as she could muster, the anxious champion carrying the demon in her arms flew towards the wall of the inner keep. She understood that Pride couldn’t summon stone from nothing, she had to shape it using the finite amount of stone present - however considering everyone found themselves surrounded by aforementioned stone, her little sister was never lacking in needed resources.

Every doorway had been closed, but the shifting symbols of the Gnosis still stained both Fear and Zima, and with great speed the former flew the duo towards the shimmering stone wall. “Close your eyes, this can be disorientating!” She warned, before both of them collided with an uproarious boom against a very solid structure that rejected their passage. Like a tiny bird battering against a resilient window, Fear fumbled in her flight, staggering a great distance downward until she finally recovered and resumed her ascent, soaring upward while she panicked.

“I don’t understand! It worked before! It needed to work!” She screamed, and the damage inflicted upon her by the collision with the wall was observed by her other sisters who’s eyes she saw through now. The upper half of her head had shattered like crystals struck by a hammer, her skull and all above the nose region had been broken upon impact, shards and cracks spreading throughout the entirety of her body where tongues of prismatic flames seeped out.

Her movements became unsteady and aimless, as she pressed against the wall again and again in an attempt to flee from the keep and the punishment of her failures. “I can’t do anything! Anything!” She wailed, and pounded against the stone with her feet in a feeble attempt to break it.

“You would abandon your kin?”

The terrifying and familiar voice of her Maker haunted her now, calling out to her from the cosmic inferno that was the Eternal Fire, but Fear did not want to hear that voice, she did want to face the one she had betrayed in an effort to earn her approval, not when she had failed again. “Leave me alone!”

“Then go, and do not come back until you have atoned…”

Suddenly the stone yielded, then both Fear and Zima were rushing past the blinding barriers of the macabre monument and outside the Keep. The warmth of the Eternal Fire expelled them farther and farther, where Fear could sense that all of Keltra was animated now, hear the tumultuous shifting of stone, even the outer wall which danced and moved like an incomprehensibly immense ring of fire that prevented their escape. Pride was everywhere and possessed the great power to mold the fortress into whatever shape she desired. However, even that last blockade did not intercept them; the Incantation of Sending allowing them to pass through it safely, and the two then seemed free to depart from the bastion of Homura.

“I’m now banished…” Fear whispered, the truth of those words hit her harder than crashing against the unbreakable walls of the keep, and there was no warmth that would wash her guilt and grief now. Only the cold presence of the demon she freed, held in her arms.

Zima had remained silent through it all and only now did she speak in the freedom of the air. "Sweet Fear," she lulled, "What did you ever expect to accomplish from this besides pain?"

“Life is wrought with pain, so I’m going to change that. I’m going to bring you to your friend too. You can kill me if you want, since I’ve known nothing but failure so far, but I’d suggest otherwise. The voices aren’t here, and my sisters will come eventually, also I don’t think you want to be imprisoned again.” Fear replied, adding a humorless chuckle at the end, as they continued to fly.

"Such a noble soul." Zima mused, a malicious glint in her eyes. "A traitor now banished for doing what she deemed right. Wounded and failing. Not to worry, Fear, I'm not going to kill you. You are far too valuable now. Let me… Heal you and ease your suffering." She whispered into her ear. "All will be better when we are together."

“I’m dying, Zima. You lack the power to heal me, and I’ll perish soon. You can kill me now, or wait for my broken body to fall apart, but there’s a chance you keep your freedom with patience. I’m lost either way.” Fear answered, trying to ascertain whether she was traveling the correct direction. “By the way, are we still heading north? I can’t see anything right now.”

"You talk too much about things you know nothing about. Now hush, rest your weary soul." Zima's form began to fade from her grasp, becoming crimson smoke. "Death will not claim one who has helped me spread suffering." And before Fear had any say in the matter, Zima entered her newest vessel with a cold laugh.





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