@Balthazar007 Am I free to add/come up with lore for the lizard tribe or do you have a background/way of life already in place for them?
Vec
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Just as humans grow and change with time, interests change as well. I wish I had the urge to roleplay like I used to...
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@Balthazar007 I'm leaning towards someone from the poison fang tribe. I've been wanting to play some kind of snake being. Could you elaborate a little on how beastfolk use magic? Strengthening would be one aspect. Would they be able to eventually control it, like how humans do?
I'll create a regular character probably. Can you talk a little about "magic" as you said in the OP? All organic beings have this "magic"?
I just wonder how powerful regular characters can get. Is there some kind of system in place for these characters to power-up, is it left to us to make it up as we go along, or will regular characters become lackeys of the crystal bearers?
<Snipped quote by Vec>
Interesting. I'll Google it when I get home from work. Never heard of that before. I appreciate your interest. 🙂
It's mainly the existence of these stones that is similar, the world in that story is medieval/high-fantasy, not sci-fi.
This seems interesting. I can't help but draw similarities between this and the Choice of Games story named "The Soul Stone War".
Justified text alignment. Please.
Shooting Stars I
Despite the Falling Star clan being known for some of their more esoteric practices, the sect's elders did not forget the Goddess's core teachings. Thus, after leaving Haven and establishing a foothold on the area surrounding their stronghold, the most wise and powerful members of the sect had gathered to form the Elder Council. A brainchild of the previous sect head, the council's sole purpose had been to gather, record, and consolidate all the differing esoteric arts available within the clan.
On the outside, it had been framed as a means to exchange ideas between clan members, to ponder on the wisdom fellow members had to offer that may help with one's advancement. In reality, the few true powers within the clan knew that, by virtue of losing Haven, they would have to now be responsible for the protection of their homes and lives. The potential battles that were to come could not be fought by a haphazard force of martial artists; controlling the battlefield and knowing the force and capabilities of your troops would be of utmost importance.
Unquestionably, outsiders would find their way to the sect at some point. Beings that had not been graced with the teachings of the Goddess would arrive and seek shelter; the sect could not, and would not, deny them entry. After all, who would say no to a pair of extra hands?
Thus, the plan to form a standardized system of training for said new recruits, along with the invention of the sect's very own core technique to pair along with it, had been put into action. A set hierarchy was created, mainly around the idea that those who had received direct tutelage from the Goddess would form the Inner Sect, leaving everyone else to become Outer Sect members. Of course, it helped that the former tended to be stronger than the latter, although there were some exceptions as well.
Existing clan members were still allowed to practice their own personal techniques, however new members would have to first complete their apprenticeship – which meant going through basic training, education, and learning the clan's core technique. Promotions – and demotions for that matter – would be given according to one's merit within the sect; from anything as simple as completing an errant or quest, to as grand as winning a martial or literary tournament, would be used to calculate said merit, and members could then use it to exchange for rewards with the clan to further their advancement.
And so, Dolsoe had grown up within the clan; with his parents both being Outer Members since the inception of the system, their standard of living could be considered mediocre, neither better nor worse than their peers. Children born within the clan fell in the same category as outsiders, and as such were forced to go through apprenticeship from the age of 10 to 18.
By the age of 17, a whole seven years, Dolsoe spent his life away from his family – apprentices were forbidden from contacting other sect members, as the clan had deemed it detrimental to their development as a functioning clan member. The only exception to this rule had, of course, been their fellow apprentices, as well as their teachers. Well, there was also one other exception: apprentices could exchange letters with their loved ones once a month. During all those grueling, tiring, painful and stressful years, Dolsoe cherished those letters the most; returning from training to find one in front of his door made all that accumulated fatigue disappear in a flash.
He loved reading about his parents' daily lives. His mother had a proclivity to go on and on about all the different gossip she'd talk about with her friends, something that helped him keep in touch with the sect's affairs as a whole pretty well, even isolated as he was. His father, on the other hand, wrote a ton about advancement, any quests that he might have completed – along with all the juicy details around them. He also updated him on the various martial tournaments that would take place, for he knew that, prior to his apprenticeship, Dolsoe had loved attending them as a viewer.
However, as fate would have it, around five years into his apprenticeship, those letters would suddenly stop. For a while – around five months' time - Dolsoe would receive no correspondence from his family. As each month passed, he would grow more and more worried about what happened back home, and the increasing stress upon his psyche slowed down his progress considerably. Alas, quitting the apprenticeship was something unheard of – even the clan head's own direct descendants had to go through with it, there were no exceptions.
Then one day, a new letter would arrive. One could only guess how elated Dolsoe had been to find it, and as such he had swiftly wrenched it open, his eyes devouring its contents. Unfortunately, just as quickly as he read the letter, his face transformed from that one full of excitement to one full of dread and hopelessness. Both his parents had died.
The letter would go on to explain how it had happened; a particular beast native to the Darkwoods had been terrorizing a village near the outskirts of the clan's territory. Several previous Outer members had tried to hunt it down, however they had all never returned. Well, his father had been recruited by an Inner Sect member into a group that would tackle this specific problem; the member in question had been known for the power of his fist techniques and was quite influential within the Inner Circles. He had proclaimed that, under his leadership, they would return triumphant, that they would bring the beast's head for all to witness along with them.
A month past after their departure, and news came back from the outskirts. After the second month, the Elder's Council had organized a second expedition, this time a rescue mission the leader of which had been one of the Elders himself. "They" would return after another month; just the elder would stagger onto the front gates of the sect one day, missing an arm and an eye but holding on to a huge, sharp, curved tooth beneath his armpit. Apparently the beast – a pitch black leopard of enormous proportions – had been slain, but everyone else except the elder had died along with it. A few days later, however, the elder had also succumbed to his injuries and had passed away.
Dolsoe's mother, unable to bear the sheer weight of grief at the loss of her husband, had decided to take her life after just one month of hearing the news. Understandably, Dolsoe had also been devastated by the news; news that, had the letter system not been in place, would have never found their way to him. Only way later would he find out that the sect had to do away with the letter system, as the fallout from several apprentices finding out about their loved ones' deaths had also drove them to suicide.
Dolsoe, too, had contemplated the act numerous times. Then, after a few weeks of bad thoughts stewing in his mind, he'd decided to go through with it. His plan had been simple; numerous martial artists, in their attempt to attain further progress in their martial arts, would go into what had been termed "closed-door" training. During this time, they would isolate themselves in order to attain enlightenment through meditation. This could go on for a long time, years in some cases, depending on the power that said martial artist already possessed.
Sometimes, however, in their fervor to obtain this type of reward, a martial artist would make a mistake during the process, causing the energies coursing within their body to clash, the so called "essence deviation". This most often would result in the death of the practitioner – some deaths being more gruesome than others – but there were also exceptions.
Dolsoe did not plan to be one of those exceptions. He would shut himself inside his room and forcefully induced the essences to clash, leading him to literally explode from within. And he would have gone ahead with it, had it not been for one unexpected variable: the same day that he had chosen to be his last, he had found a new letter waiting for him on his doorstep.
At first he had refused to even pick it up, letting it stay there in front of his door for several hours. Yet the sheer knowledge of the letter's existence slowly eroded the tall walls that fortified his mind, completely shattering his fragile determination. In the evening of that day, he finally decided to read it, his curiosity unable to withstand it.
Somewhere within the vast reaches of the cosmos, that all-encompassing silence enveloping everything within its cold embrace had been, at last, broken. As if but a single water drop touching the surface of a still lake, the ripples of creation traveling through the eternal tapestry had roused a long-forgotten entity from its timeless slumber.
Even in its sleep the being’s senses were immaculate; detecting a disturbance – even tiny ones such as this – was easy. After a slight shift in space, brilliant light, heat, and colors unimaginable burst forth, showering the previously pitch darkness with iridescent magnificence. The being’s nebulaeic form slowly coalesced what, at first glance, seemed to be a face, but upon further analysis ended up being a collection of celestial objects arranging themselves as such.
From within a massive cloud of gas and celestial dust, two colorful, swirling spiral galaxies slowly emerged. Both moved in unison as the whole structure floated through space, turning its attention towards a certain direction. The entity seemed to be measuring – nay – judging the new arrival, and as it did another gaseous form slowly emerged from within the cloud; an appendage akin to an arm of galactic proportions took shape, complete with a forearm, hand, and articulated fingers.
After what seemed to be a moment in time, yet lasting longer than some stars' lifespans, the being closed its "eyes", causing the rotating galaxies to squish down into thin, hot, plasma-like lines stretching light years in length. And then it breathed in.
Space roared; Time bent, and two small black holes popped into existence near the center of the being's "face", instantly vacuuming up everything within their immediate vicinity, yet the nebula endlessly generated more and more, an endless spring of creation bursting forth with potential.
Then, just as suddenly as it had started, everything came to a still. The black holes dissipated; the swirling colors within the nebula, and as a result the being's complexion as a whole, dulling down a bit. The entity's eyes opened once again, slightly this time, just enough to peer once at its hand before turning its attention back to the source of the disturbance. As it did, a crack in the fabric of space split the lower half of the cloud, forming a jagged imitation of a mouth, with its edges slightly tilting in a mock grin.
And then it breathed out. More so a deafening – even silenced as it was by the vacuum of space – bellow than a simple exhale, the being's maw spewed forth creation incarnate; it gave birth to a stellar tornado of gigantic proportions that shot forward at beyond light speed, plowing through and picking up everything in its wake.
The sheer amount of energy generated from its unnatural movement would not be denied, causing the tornado to heat up exponentially. All the various space debris and material swirling within it rapidly melted down into their purest forms, quickly coming together to merge into a small – for galactic proportions – sphere.
The orb shot off into the figurative horizon; carried forward by the momentum of the tornado, and towards the direction of the disturbance. Left behind, the entity could do nothing but watch the bead's journey. Its senses, although mighty, did not extend beyond its sphere of influence. Once the connection between itself and the dormant "gift" it had so generously wrapped up had been cut off, the entity knew that the object had truly entered the deep unknown. Satisfied with itself, the being nodded once before fading away, back into slumber.
The excursion into the deep dark, although lengthy, had been pretty much uneventful. Posing both as a protector as well as a means of travel, the tornado kept up with the orb for much of the journey, yet the harsh environment would prove to be its undoing.
From the moment it had come into existence, the sheer cold of space had been gnawing away at its stellar energies, akin to a crow encircling a dying rat and pecking at it from time to time. The two would clash innumerable times, yet the tornado would come out as the weaker side time and again, losing both heat and momentum in the process. Alas, it dissipated into nothingness just before reaching their destination, leaving its passenger to travel the rest of the distance on its own.
As if sensing the absence of its guardian, the semi-sentient orb – albeit still dormant – willed its vessel to push on ahead, the one and only order left behind by its creator having been burned into its instinct; reach the destination. When its outer shell met the thin, water-like barrier of the newly formed nascent universe, it knew it had finally fulfilled that command.
As if a dam had suddenly burst open, a rush of new information spewed through the, newly minted, connection between the universe and the consciousness within the sphere. Along with this information came a sudden surge of power that, almost forcefully, washed away all other remnants of external influence that might have been left on the orb.
Had it had actual sight at this time, the consciousness would have experienced everything going dark as it reeled from the sudden intrusion. However, the only indication of it fainting had been the slight dimming of the colorful lights emitted from within. In this split second of true unconsciousness, new rules, directives, and responsibilities slipped into it; as if a thread being carefully stitched onto fabric, the intricate patterns that emerged ended up seamlessly absorbed into, and made part of, the nascent deity.
The bestowment of divinity, and all that it entails, is a mysterious process; one would not be far off in assuming that – like a caterpillar turning into a butterfly – any change that might occur on the inside would reflect on the outside as well. Well, in this case they would be wrong to assume that, as there was absolutely no external indication that the entity had been turned into a divine.
On the contrary, the sphere turned an even duller grey-to-black color; flashes of golden hued light emitted from its center as it slowly floated in space. After some indeterminate amount of time, another celestial object – an asteroid – passed by near the vicinity of the orb, inadvertently catching the unconscious deity in its orbit. Like this, it 'traveled' around the system for a while, piggybacking off the asteroid. However, it seemed that it, too, had been orbiting around another, bigger object all along.
Galbar.
Incredible how one small – in the grand scheme of things – rock, floating in space as it was, would be the host of such wondrous variety of life. The divines, in their creative fervor, had riddled it with all sorts of interesting little things. Some had gone for the more usual creations: life-giving flora and sentient fauna, boring but necessary. To complement their critters, the gods gifted some with the knowledge of architecture, as to shield themselves from the elements and prosper as communities; the relatively smarter creatures – mostly bipeds, but there were also a lot of quadrupeds for some strange reason – took to these teachings like a duck to water, spreading all over the continent and forming their own settlements.
Other deities had decided to be more moderate in how much influence they exerted over their surroundings. A few experiments here; some changes there; a few mortals for servants and an abode to call their own; there is nothing wrong with taking it easy sometimes, but one ought to do… more. A mortal's plight, a limited lifespan on top of no access to divine power, was certainly crippling enough. Yet so many of them rose to the challenge, some imitating their superiors, others charting their own paths; their creations, in the end, being the result of effort and sheer force of will.
Of course, those deities were not really at fault here; their invoker had not really given them specific goals to achieve, and so they were somewhat… winging it, per se – some quite literally at that. One, however, had lagged behind the rest.
Well, getting locked in orbit with a quasi-satellite of Galbar, and experiencing the mind's equivalent of a blackout on top of that, is not something to scoff at. By the time the young deity regained enough of its senses to get a hang of the situation, its overbearing partner had run a few circles around the planet. Trapped as it was between the two celestial objects, the orb's orbit destabilized due to the superior pull of Galbar, and so at some point it had started hurling down towards the planet.
The day had long passed; the sun had set and the moon – one of them anyway, as they somehow had managed to multiply – had risen over the horizon, illuminating with its silvery light the world below. The wind carried the sound of the distant waves, all the way up the many cliff sides riddling the south-eastern edges of the continent, and into the dense, forested maze that were the outskirts of Logiopolis.
There, upon one small clearing near the edge of one such cliff sat a person, alone. Occasionally, the distinct clacking sound of two hard objects hitting each-other would be heard, followed by the person quickly glancing up at the night sky for a brief second, before quickly looking down onto whatever they were tinkering with.
–Clink, clink, clink–
With a sigh, Titus straightened his back, taking a couple of seconds to regain his breath whilst marveling at his finished creation. "Finally, finally, finally, finally!" He repeated the same word over and over again, sheer excitement written out all over his face. A few hands-width in length away from him lay a relatively thick slab of stone; he'd found it on a beach a few days after the God of Knowledge had first visited and gifted them with names, language, writing, and many more.
"God must be looking after me, else I doubt I'd have convinced that meat-for-brains to drag this thing all the way here." The young man stood up – dusting off whatever dirt had gotten on him from all that work, and started slowly circling around the slab, peering at it from different angles. Depicted on it, were a set of points, carefully chiseled in and connected with lines in between; rough as it was, the image constructed from the arrangement of said points and lines ended up, curiously, being that of a book.
"Hmm, a little rough around the edges for sure… maybe if I carve a little bit over here…"
Lost in thought as he was – ninety percent of what went through his mind at that moment were related to his masterpiece – Titus failed to notice a towering presence slowly approaching him from behind. "Hey, hey, hey, oh that looks familiar." The sheer suddenness of the new voice spooked the lights out of the poor man, causing him to jump and fall on his face, much to the chagrin of the intruder.
Titus slowly rolled over in place whilst letting out a pained grunt, eliciting more laughter for his troubles. "Y-ye-yeah, laugh away…" Titus sighed in resignation, splaying his arms on the ground, and simply staring at the stars above. After a moment, however, even that view was taken away from him as the figure from before walked right next to his head, replacing the stars with… something equally exciting.
"How's the view from down there, astroboy?" The red-haired kinnara looming above Titus questioned with a grin. "Uh… um… It's, uh, pre–" his stumbling for words was cut off by a sharp but relatively soft kick to his sides, causing him to roll over once again. "Enough, Archon's back from the hunt; it's time to return to the cabin," she declared before walking off towards the piece of stone on the ground.
"You sure made good work of my good work… I know what it looks like, but why… this, of all things?" She pointed at the stone carving before looking back at him. Titus, much to his credit, did not get angry at her words. "Calm down, it comes from a place of ignorance… calm… down…"
"This is a constellation, or a depiction of one at least," the young man explained as he stood up once more, only to be met by a raised eyebrow. "A consta-what now?"
"Con-stel-la-ti-on. It's an area on the celestial plane in which a group of visible stars form a pattern, that we can then perceive and depict!" The man patiently re-iterated, his excitement there towards the end of his explanation evident in his eyes and tone. Yet what faced him was silence, a troubled look, a tilted head, and full-blown eyebrow frowning that made him want to claw his face off.
"OKAY, YOU HAVE THE STARS, RIGHT?" Nod. "THEY ARE UP IN THE SKY, YEAH?" Nod. "WELL, SOME ARE BRIGHTER THAN OTHERS, AND WHEN WE DRAW LINES BETWEEN THOSE BRIGHT ONES, SOMETIMES, WE GET NICE PICTURES!" Titus was left full-on wheezing towards the end of the brief rant, yet he stared the kinnara straight into the eyes to see if she'd understood.
After he'd finished, she remained silent for a while, sometimes looking up at the stars before looking back down at him. She did this for a few minutes, making Titus swear he could hear grinding sounds coming from the inside of her head. Suddenly, however, she turned to him; "First of all, we're having a long talk later," she said matter-of-factly, immediately making Titus break out in cold sweat. "Secondly, yeah I get it now. Lastly, a question: what happens when one of those stars shoots down?"
"What? Uh, well, Archon's said that those are shooting stars, they have nothing to do with the big ones that form the constellations, Myra…" Titus nervously replied. "Aha, I see. So, it's not a punishment from God…" She mumbled her understanding whilst staring at the sky, prompting Titus to join her. They watched in silence, a mixture of awe and terror as an object sliced through the night sky. The sheer speed and momentum that carried it caused the atmosphere to spontaneously combust around it, carving a beautifully haunting flaming arc across a dark background.
Within a few seconds, the object had travelled all the way from the equator to the south-eastern coast of the continent; inhabitants of Logiopolis and the surrounding areas would have been the primary audience for this celestial spectacle. Only for a moment in time, night turned to day, and then back to night as blinding light radiated outwards from the object as it passed by high above.
And the sound, oh the sound. It came an instant later, a deafening boom accompanied by a shockwave – enough to make the forests sway in unison, but not enough to rip them out from where they stood. The wind, as if following the trail set by the shooting star, blew strongly towards the north. However, it was soon met by the wall that was the Stormbreaker Mountain Range and hailed to a stop, unlike the trailblazing meteor that continued well beyond those snowy peaks.
Be as stable as the earth you tread on, for it is it that gives you sustenance; be as flexible as the water you drink, for it is it that courses through your veins; be as passionate as the fire you cook with, yet never grow too fond of it, lest you be burned to a crisp; be as considerate as the air your breathe, for every living being on Galbar requires it to keep on living.
Staggering between two bushes, a lone deer emerged into an open clearing; its mouth drooled frothy saliva as its nose sniffed around, trying to detect potential predators. Stopping for a moment, the deer raised its head – ears stretched as high as possible – and took in the surrounding area. A thin, long piece of wood was sticking out from its side, slightly up and towards the end of its spine. Blood was dripping out from the puncture wound, seeping into its fur, and painting it a carmine red.
The clearing was situated on the south bank of the water channel that, unknown to many still, divided the lands of Galbar in two. Further south and equally covered in dense, coniferous woodland – fir and spruce, some pine here and there too – the mountain that delineated the northern border of the Darkwood Forest rose tall, a natural landmark. Somewhere on the other side of the mountain, the Falling Star sect's stronghold stood strong, housing one of the Twelve Clans of Haven.
It was one such clansman of Falling Star that had wounded the deer so gravely. Dolsoe was his name, a relatively known young hunter and martial artist within the clan; Dolsoe's prey tracking abilities had even elicited a passing comment by one of the sect's Inner Disciples – being noticed by someone that had received direct tutelage by the Martial Goddess could be considered a blessing.
And yet, upon laying eyes on him, no one in their right minds would guess that he was a member of the Falling Star sect. His attire consisted of rugged, cut up "clothing" – in actuality a random assortment of leathers, haphazardly stitched up together to look like something one might wear – adorning his torso and legs, clothing that looked like they had been worn for years on end; no shoes, of course; disheveled, mop-like long hair that shrouded most of his forehead, eyes, ears and nose – gods knew how he could see even a foot's width in front of him in that state.
Dolsoe had broken many rules and regulations, skirting his responsibilities and taking to the mountains as a way to escape from all of it, yet no matter how far he went, his past always seemed to be haunting him.
The man crouched low, his second wooden spear in hand, primed and ready. He inhaled once, then again, and then a third time, taking in the scents of the forest – pine sap and wet foliage mixed together to create a truly unique kind of scent. As he lay there low, scanning the area, his eyes suddenly locked on to something; different from the endless shades of green that dominated the forest, this was a deep, dirty crimson. The color of blood, even dried out, is unmistakable to a seasoned hunter.
Dolsoe, albeit still sticking close to the ground, moved swiftly towards the newfound clue that would lead him to the location of his prey. "Yeah… not much more now…" he murmured to himself as he touched the red, sticky ichor with his fingers. "Ah, this one is fresh… you're close aren't ya?" He straightened his back a little and set off towards the north, his pace brisk yet silent.
Like a hawk, Dolsoe kept his eyes wide open as he moved through the forest, picking around bushes and cutting down vines in the process. As he neared the end, he crouched low once again and assumed the spear throwing position. Hidden behind one of the bushes, he popped his head up for moment, and lo and behold, his prey had entered his sights once more.
Dolsoe kept his eyes trained on the wounded deer; it had moved all the way to the edge of the water channel. It greedily swallowed gulp after gulp, its eyes lidded from either the pain of the wound or the exertion of having to escape an unyielding predator. "You're thirsty… well, I am hungry!"
Just as he was preparing to launch his other spear, however, a terrifying noise reverberated across the area, alerting both the hunter and the hunted that something had gone wrong, very, very wrong. A split second later, a white flash covered the sky, and then everything went black.
"Ugh… wh-where am I?"
The being's jumbled mind felt sluggish. As if a newborn calf not having yet realized it had been born, the consciousness drew upon every ounce of mental power it could muster at that very moment, organizing its thoughts into something that could make sense. Then suddenly, like a fumbling key finally finding the lock after repeatedly failing to do so, everything became clear.
"I see… so it's come to this…"
The being willed it, and the world that surrounded it revealed itself to it at once. "How fascinating…" Its mind scanned through the information in its possession, going through everything not once, but twice – just to make sure.
For a being of its level, slowing down its perception to account for the sheer speed at which it had been travelling through the atmosphere was, for a lack of a better comparison, a parlor trick. A world of blurring colors and heat instantly slowed down to a crawl, with the lands beyond quickly becoming recognizable to the naked eye. "These… are mountains, and those are trees, no, forests!" Its remarks echoed within its own mind, yet sadly no one was there to share them with.
Then its sight locked on an interesting discovery, an intriguing trapezoidal structure of uneven surface. At first glance, the being had no idea as to what its use might have been; its location for one? Utterly dreadful. Who would even consider that juncture as prime real estate? Whoever had ordered the construction must have held a grudge on the one responsible for actually building the thing, the being concluded.
It was at this time, however, that the being noticed it was increasingly approaching the surface of the world beneath. Just as it passed by the tall mountain peak that loomed over surrounding area, its sight was greeted with more of the same land. "More forests, mountains and… buildings…" Had it had a mouth, the being would have let out a sigh.
"Well, I guess my other… colleagues do love their green and brown stuff…" Somewhere in its mind, the thought clicked that if it let itself to land without doing anything, the impact could probably take out a good chunk of the ground below. "Yes, it seems I was called here to help, not destroy, so…"
"STOP".
The world bent around the being's will and, in a split second, the stupendous amount of kinetic force behind its fall became null, causing its body to come to a sudden halt midair, just above where it would have landed. Unfortunately for the land below, it hadn’t really extended that command to all the forces at play here.
As a result, the compacted gas that had, until that time, been burning bright right in-front of it kept going downwards, smiting the ground directly below and engulfing it in a flaming fireball, disintegrating trees and creatures alike. Fortunately for the land, the crater that resulted was aptly situated; water from the water channel dividing the two continents quickly rushed in, filling it up and creating a new lake.
A dark, sphere like shape slowly descended from above the lake, and as it did, a cylindrical piece of land rose from the depths below – right in the middle of it – as if the lake itself was extending a hand, welcoming the orb's arrival. A small indentation in the rock formed as the orb settled; divine energies crackled, and the obelisk became riddled with blackened cracks. From within, nebulous mist seeped that, after a while, would create an ethereal environment, enveloping the lake and some of the surrounding land, and hiding it away from plain view.
"Ah, that's much better… now to make it a little more interesting." With that thought, all sorts of fantastical plants started growing in the area surrounding the lake. Golden-stemmed bamboos of different sizes and shapes shot up, mostly occupying the area at the borders and up to the middle of the small realm, enveloping the core within a veritable new forest. Taking advantage of the ideal conditions that the mist had created, a whole host of mushrooms-types grew in between the bamboo, multicolored and of various degrees of fluorescence. Nearer to the lake, smaller grasses and roots; forb; ginseng; licorice; ginger to name a few, slowly sprouted.
However, the greatest change took place in the middle of the lake, right where the obelisk had been erected. The land rumbled, creating ripples in the surface of the water as two thick, dense, golden-brown roots slowly crept up from the recently created lake, twisting and turning around the obelisk, only to come to a stop upon meeting at the top. As if sensing it was their time to appear, numerous branches grew outwards, the thing starting to, more and more, resemble an actual tree now.
Only the final touches were needed, and so the being willed the trunks of the tree to mold themselves around it, allowing the orb to escape its tight embrace. As the being floated away, a small, sphere-sized hole was left in the middle of the tree, enshrining it as this deity's resting place upon this planet. At that moment, the whole tree burst with life; golden leaves grew, shimmering purplish-white flowers bloomed, and a perpetual small breeze started blowing out of nowhere. As if alive, the tree, its branches and all other surrounding foliage started gently rocking to the whims of the wind. Occasionally, flower petals would get detached from their
"I've got to say, rocks and trees do make for a nice landscape after all… seems like the other deities are on to something here." The being, amused by its own thoughts, floated down towards the base of the tree. Whilst doing so, dark, golden-hued liquid slowly seeped out from within the deep recesses of its vessel, the orb. Slowly, the liquid formed into the rough shape of a featureless torso with four equally featureless limbs, a body adequate enough to hold its vessel in place, albeit not really needed.
Gingerly at first – walking was not something that came naturally to it – the being moved around the garden, marveling at the sights and scents. It took its time, not rushing through the first moments of its existence on Galbar. After all, the notion of time was irrelevant to an existence such as itself. Its walk eventually took it back to the center of the lake, wherein the tree stood tall. The being stretched one of its appendages, gently touching one of the many swaying flowers, and a sense of peace and tranquility washed over its entire being. "Delightful."
But then a small noise, a sound akin no other existing within the realm, brought the deity back from its trance-like state. The divine followed the sound curiously, leaving its innate inquisitive nature to bring it to its destination. On the south edge of the realm, among the tall bamboo and mushrooms, a small wisp lay down on the ground, curled up in a fetal position. "How curious, a biped, here in my realm."
The deity had spoken softly, trying to not startle the creature, yet its voice reverberated outwards, interfering with the divine essence of the place. With it as their epicenter, ripples in the fabric of space extended towards all directions, some penetrating straight through the fragile exterior of the small visitor; the wisp let out a pained wail and hurriedly scurried away, frightened out of its mind.
"Oh, this won't do… this presence of mine is too much for mortals to bear…" The deity stopped and thought, trying to come up with a solution to a newfound problem. "Hmm, maybe if I had a more relatable appearance?" Suddenly, its form turned back into the primordial liquid it had emerged from, flowing up and setting around the floating orb which, soon, started spinning around in place; at first it went slowly, but as rotation after rotation was completed, its speed ramped up exponentially.
Through this movement, a vacuum-like force was created that started sucking in everything around it. Nearby golden bamboo and grasses were ripped up and flown straight into the orb's greedy mouth, along with water from the lake and the divine essence leaking from the cracks within the obelisk. Somewhere within the realm, the wisp of a man had detected this immediate danger and had taken a calculated risk; he'd swam across the lake, reaching the land where the giant tree lay and hid behind it – it seemed like only thing incapable of being torn apart at that moment.
Fortunately, it didn't take long for the orb to calm down, and as it did a burst of light emanated from the core of the spherical object. Innumerable rays of light penetrated through the dark liquid surrounding the orb, turning it bright a bright golden color, before dissipating into nothingness once more. The transformed liquid then latched onto the orb, enveloping it in its gooey embrace.
Throughout the ordeal, the wisp had remained mostly hidden behind the tree, however when the lights died down, it curiously peeked around to look at what had been happening. What it witnessed was like something straight out of a fairy tale; semi-transparent threads of divine energy extended downward, creating a scaffold-like structure that then was slowly filled in by the golden liquid above, forming a rather tall, humanoid body. Bone, organs, veins, and muscles formed on the inside, while skin enveloped the outside – all but the brain, which was replaced by the orb itself and encased within a shiny, translucent skull, formed beautifully.
Every ounce of ichor left after the completion of the transformation flowed up onto the deity's head, seeping into the skin. By the time the body had floated down, its feet meeting the ground, a knee-length, goldenrod mane of hair had fully grown in. Two striking, citrine-colored eyes carefully measured their surroundings, viewing the world through mortal lenses for the first time.
He breathed in, testing the both the air and his new lungs, the action quickly eliciting a smile from the god. "Despite some flaws, the engineering prowess and skill that must have gone into creating the blueprints for such a race of creatures is astounding. I must make it a goal to meet their creator at some point…"
As the deity mused on this new reality that he had been summoned into, his eyes spotted a tiny head peaking from behind the tree. Unfortunately for the wisp, those few milliseconds it took to realize it had been spotted were enough for the god to cast his will on it, seizing it in place and preventing it from running away again. "Not that it would go far… I know of everything that goes on within this realm."
The god waved in with his left hand, exerting a force of attraction that slowly dragged the intruder towards him, while with his right hand summoned a set of simple, linen robes to cover his modesty. After getting dressed, he sat down on the ground, legs crossed, and watched as the wisp – despite struggling against its invisible tethers – kept on approaching him.
"Y-yi-yooooooou, no." A cough and several adjustments later, the deity projected his voice out a second time. "You needn't struggle, I mean no harm."
He had only heard accounts of the deities, never witnessing one from up close. Dolsoe's parents used to tell him stories about the divine creator, the Goddess that saved their race from the pits of oblivion. She had given them many gifts to aid in their survival: the gifts of language and writing being the first to pop into his mind. There were others as well, such as the gift of architecture, governance, and war; the last had often been a hot topic during the sect's monthly literary tournaments.
Apparently, after the humans and chimeras were cast down from Haven, they were made aware of the existence of other deities. Their Goddess, Teacher, and Protector was not the only one capable of harnessing reality, taming and manipulating it according to her whims. Rumors spoke of texts hidden deep within the sect's library, far away from an Outer member's eyes, that held information about the others – their veracity eluded Dolsoe – however those who knew for certain were among the highest ranked within the sect.
And yet, right then and there, a living, breathing, and smiling deity was sitting across from him, the two separated by a flat, table-like rock. On top of the "table" lay a wide assortment of fresh fruit; dewy, full-bodied grapes, green and golden pears, apples of various shades of sweetness, a veritable galore of berries of all sizes and shapes, were among some of the fruit made available to him. Some fruit, like kiwis, were especially hard to find in the area surrounding the Falling Star sect, and as such were considered a delicacy – some of the more gluttonous members would go as far as to use merit to obtain them.
Dolsoe glanced back and forth between the god and the feast in front of him, his mouth drooling wispy saliva. As if sensing his hesitation, the god nodded his assent, and Dolsoe instantly grabbed at one of the apples, only for his hand to phase right through it. His eyes blinked a few times, the confusion evident on his face, and so he made several more attempts, all ending in the same manner. Then the realization hit him, and he slumped back in defeat.
"I am dead, aren't I?" The first words leaving Dolsoe's mouth were not particularly targeted at the god, yet he still nodded his head in confirmation. "I admit, my arrival could have been better, but you really were not in the best of positions there." The god snapped his fingers and all the fruit, along with the table, turned a ghostly purple color. "Uh, should be fixed now."
"What's the use even… I'm dead…" Dolsoe stayed still, head hung low. His life had finally come to an end, and what end it had been. "Spicy is one word to describe it," the god quipped in before floating a cluster of grapes in front of him, separating one, and launching it into his mouth. "Aha, minty!"
The sheer absurdity of the whole situation caused Dolsoe to let out an amused exhale which, after a second, was reciprocated back by the god, followed by a giggle. Dolsoe joined in, and soon after – like two sick people taking turns sneezing on each other – both had devolved into full-blown, over the top, knee-slapping, tummy-hurting laughter.
Nevertheless, just like how fire cannot burn without enough fuel, so too does joy. One's got only so much energy to spend on laughter, anyway, before their mind changes the subject back to something more somber. After the racket had finally come to an end, both sat there, staring at each other in silence. Then, much to Dolsoe's surprise, the god – after awkwardly shifting his weight around a little – addressed him first.
"So, you know how you being dead is, uh, kind of my fault–"
"Yes, one hundred percent." Dolsoe nodded his head in a hasty reply, cutting the god mid-speech, eliciting a tight smile and a blink of the eyes from the other party. "Sorry…"
"Yeah, so I was thinking: it is my fault, so who's better to fix it other than me? There are two ideas I am currently entertaining; one could roughly categorize them as the 'fast-and-easy' versus the 'slow-and-hard' approach."
Dolsoe, careful not to make the same mistake as earlier, decided to wait until the god signaled that he could talk. "Tell me more about the first one…"
"Oh, well its nothing other than resurrection. We make you a new body, identical to the one you had before, plop you right back in there, and off you go. Super comfortable. Cheap to boot."
The god's last choice of words worried Dolsoe a little. "Che– no, you know what, no. Thanks, but I would rather not return like that." Dolsoe rejected the offer after some consideration.
"Would you care to elaborate on the reason? I will understand if you choose to remain silent, however."
Dolsoe looked straight into the eyes of the man sitting across from him; ten minutes ago he was alive and well, ready to take a life for food, and now – ten minutes later – he is face-to-face with his own killer, talking about methods of giving that life back to him. The ghostly vagabond let out a deep sigh, taking some time to gather his thoughts, before finally speaking up.
"You know, I have been through a lot in my life – lost a lot. Time; emotions; credibility; family… Some I lost myself, while others were taken away from me." Visible tears started welling up in his wispy eyes as he mouthed those words, but he steeled himself and continued. "In some way I looked forward to my death; I have always wondered, no, hoped that there was no afterlife. Having to live with these memories stuck in my head is one thing, but having to carry them all the way to eternity after I am dead… I would rather go insane."
"Of course, maybe somewhere out there, there is a God of Death taking care of all the dead people, picking them up in his jolly little boat, and herding them off to some place for safeke–" Realizing what he'd just said, Dolsoe scratched his beard, looked behind his shoulder a couple of times to make sure, and leaned a little forward towards the god. "There's no God of Death with a boat, right?" His voice could barely count as a whisper.
The deity remained silent for a while, seemingly thinking quite hard about the question. "You know what," he said before he, too, leaned in closer. "I have no idea! I am kind of new to the job, so… yeah." The deity concluded, shrugging his shoulders.
"Right…" Dolsoe straightened his back, returning to his previous position and – after clearing his throat once – dug a hand into his breast-pocket, fishing out a small wooden pendant. It looked handmade, yet the roughness of the edges and the poor quality of material indicated a lack of skill from the craftsman's side. "This was made by my daughter, Sohee; she should be sixteen cycles old at this time."
Again, Dolsoe's eyes welled up at the mention of his daughter, and the man seemed to almost be on the verge of a breakdown, however he somehow regained his composure. "She's undergoing her apprenticeship in the sect; I am barred from meeting, or even talking with, her until it is over." His fingers rubbed on the pendant gently as he talked.
"I've thought about ending it many times before you came knocking, you know? Yet all those times, her face appeared in my mind. I constantly counted the years, telling myself it was going to be alright. I had to be there when she finished, when she'd finally come back home… when we could be a family once more." The hand holding onto the pendant had long clutched into a fist, Dolsoe unwittingly crushing it within.
"You know, resurrection would fix that problem for you. Plus, I could give you a younger body, so that you and your daughter could have more time to spend together. To make up for the lost time and all." The deity interjected.
"Yes… but there's a problem with that solution; how would I ever be able to explain that I died, and the god that – accidentally – killed me, took pity on me, and brought me back? Also, there are two more years until she is finished with the apprenticeship. I am not sure I can even hold on for that long…"
The man chuckled at a thought, much to the god's surprise. Laughter did not fit the mood at that moment, prompting the deity to inquire as to why he had done that. "You know, for a god you are awfully inquisitive. Aren't you supposed to be all-knowing?"
The god, in return, shook his head in refusal. "No, my powers are currently limited; what knowledge I possess is either through my, very, brief existence so far, or the pieces I've gai–" It was the god's time to stop himself in his tracks, as he'd said too much already. "Just no," he added before remaining silent.
Dolsoe shrugged his shoulders at the answer. "Fair enough, I guess. Well, I was considerably more stable back when she first started her apprenticeship, but these long years have ground me down… I also did some not so regal things back at the sect, and now I am shunned whenever I show myself around those parts."
The god remained silent until the end, earnestly listening to what Dolsoe had to say. Only when he felt that the man had truly finished his story did he speak up. "Very well, I can take that as an acceptable reason for refusing the first offer. This means it is an automatic win for the second offer!" The god clapped his hands excitedly. "And what is that exactly?" Dolsoe asked.
"That would be resurrection–"
"I literally just listed all the reasons why that would be–"
"SILENCE!" The deity immediately burst forth with rage; his eyes turned pitch black, and a large portion of his divine will crashed down on the discourteous soul. "Just because I enjoy a good conversation does not mean you are allowed to interrupt me, mortal. You will not do this again, understood?" The man could not move a muscle – figuratively – but he assumed the deity could simply read his mind, and so he projected his sincere apologies with his thoughts.
In a split second, everything returned to its previous calm state; the moment the deity withdrew his power, Dolsoe felt as if he could breathe again. "As I was saying, the second offer is resurrection, with a caveat. Follow me, closely." With a flourish of his sleeve, both the stone table and the food on top of it immediately disappeared; the deity floated up from whence he sat, coming to a standing position mid-air, his feet just barely hovering above ground.
Dolsoe watched as the deity floated past him; at that moment of close proximity, he could feel nothing of the sort of power and sheer magnificence from before. If he hadn't experienced it firsthand, he would swear that the man in front of him was just another regular human being. Dolsoe hurriedly followed behind the god, not daring to go against him a third time.
They had been situated near the southern border of the realm, yet they didn't take long to reach the edge of the lake. The deity continued moving forward, effortlessly floating above the surface, while a few steps behind him giant waterlilies, their leaves as wide as that table from before, simply popped into existence. Dolsoe was hesitant at first, but then remembered that he was literally dead, and so started hopping from plant to plant in a bid to catch up.
Upon reaching the central landmass of the lake, the deity finally landed, turned around and watched as the ghost finished making his way over. Dolsoe could feel the god's gaze on him after finally landing on solid ground; had he been still alive, his forehead would have surely broken in cold sweat. Then, the god simply extended his arm, his hand pointing forward. "Deceased first," he added with a smile.
"Uh, thanks…" The man nervously walked ahead; the only real thing taking up most of this space, from what Dolsoe had seen, had been the tree. Thus, one could only assume how surprised he was to see a new structure. The immediate land surrounding the tree had previously been circular, however now a perfect semi-circle had been sheared off, akin to a person taking a bite out of an uncut pie. Profane.
As they neared this inner shore, Dolsoe's eyes finally caught glimpse of another surprise; rows upon rows of solid granite steps, conforming with the new shape of the land, jutted out from the side before disappearing into the depths of the lake. Then the god's voice was heard once more as he walked right next to the man.
"I have great plans for this world; we were brought here to be many things, from creators, to adjudicators, to – sometimes, yes – even destroyers. I have a rough idea as to what my place is within the grand scheme of things, however I am also not without flaws – at least I assume so. I actually dread the day I find out I have achieved true perfection, for that would be the day I have become my anathema."
Dolsoe studied the deity's face; its eyes, for the first time throughout their meeting, gave the man a strange sort of feeling. Dolsoe struggled a little to find the words to describe this feeling, eventually concluding on what felt like a close approximation – unfathomably distant, yet full of warmth. His trance was broken by the deity raising his right hand and gestured, as if calling something from behind to come forth.
Dolsoe turned around to see the small, spherical indentation into the tree light up. After three seconds, the light died down and small bead of liquid started slowly floating towards the duo. The colors of the liquid were truly… bizarre to Dolsoe, the mortal mind unable to comprehend them; had it not been for the stabilizing power of the realm, the ensuing insanity would have, no doubt, disintegrated his soul.
He watched as the bead floated above the surface of the water, lingering there for a brief second before sinking down into the lake. A few moments later, the lake took on the same colors as the bead, however a little more muted, and less taxing on the mortal mind.
"There, now we are ready to proceed. So, as I was saying before, resurrection with a caveat. By simply immersing yourself into the lake, your soul will be deconstructed and rebuild from the ground up, after which it will be ready to latch on to a new body. You will be a biped, that is for certain, however which race of biped is up to debate. Additionally, there's no way to know where exactly you will be placed in the world. Your memories and personality will stay intact, facilitating a faster re-integration into society. That, is your first choice."
"As for the second choice – and this is a special service from me to you, a one-time deal – you will, again, have to fully immerse yourself within the waters. However, by going the extra step and ingesting the water itself, your mind will be cleansed as well; all your memories will disappear, and your soul will become a clean slate. Furthermore, you will have no control over what body you will come to inhabit, but I will make sure that the resulting soul will have a strong, protective instinct towards your daughter. I will also make sure to let you loose near her vicinity."
The man's eyes stayed locked onto the deity during the whole time; his mind had been a jumbled-up mess of questions during the first half of the explanation, however once the second half came about, everything became crystal clear. Slowly, a smile crept up on his face, but as Dolsoe made to say something, the deity shushed him.
"I will know."
Dolsoe nodded once before turning around and started walking towards the steps. Just before going down the first, he stopped and turned around once more. "What is your name?"
Name… Indeed, mortals had such a concept. "I suppose I have none," the deity replied after some deliberation.
The smile on the man's face widened even more. "Can I name you?"
The sheer presumptuousness, oh the gall! The deity immediately burst out in roaring laughter at the ridiculous request. "Sure, such a reward seems fitting for being the first person to engage in conversation with me. Go ahead!"
"Well then, see you later, Einod."
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