The End
'Brother! Cease this foolishness at once! You know not what you do,' Caraghar battled the overwhelming force bearing him down, grimacing in pain as he fought to stay upright, to slowly, but surely, approach his brother, 'you will see us ruined!'
With all his godly strength, Caraghar pushed against the force of his brother's crazed machinations, floating ever upwards towards the source of it all.
'Et tu...you too, Caraghar?' his brother's voice reached him as if from a distance, yet it resonated and echoed in his mind, it was as if he was whispering in his ear, from above, and now he was inside his head once more, 'have you betrayed me like the others? Do you not see what I see? Do you not hope as I hope?' his voice was so alluring, even now Caraghar could feel himself relaxing ever so slightly, even now he could feel his tired mind asking, why not?
'We are so much more, Caraghar. There is so much to be had. We just need to reach out...reach out...', his brother's voice, even as it echoed in his head and far away, had a very distant air to it. As if he was only half present, as if his mind was occupied with things far greater. What could he be seeing, up there...?
He shook his brother's siren voice away and pressed on, he could not fail. It was not just for the other's, it was for himself too. His brother was delving into what no god had a right to delve into, he had to be stopped or else...or else that-
A huge, piercing shriek silenced his very thoughts. It ebbed and flowed from every direction and in every direction. The world, or what remained of it, shone a most radiant white. So white, so very, very white.
'Invi-!' but Caraghar's voice halted even as it left his throat. He could no longer feel the force, there was no longer a burden. It was all so very, very white.
He thought he felt himself floating. He thought...
'Get Thee Down from It'
***
The two dark figures stood in the nothingness - if you could call it standing. It was more 'hanging'. They were not exactly physical beings, more ethereal, wavering as if they could be swept away at any second. Yet they remained, waiting. If one had to describe them, the closest thing would have been a wisp, but there the comparison began, and there too did it end. Their darkness revealed no features, their faces were blurred, as if small storms were riding into each other on their surface, their legs, if they existed, were entangled and floating in and out of each other. And they were terrific in size. Indeed, it was difficult for something appear 'big' while floating in this nothingness, but big they were.
'Rise'
One of them gave the command - or perhaps they said it in unison. Before them, the nothingness began to warp and change form. It began to rise up and engulf itself, devouring itself again and again, becoming smoke-like. But not like any smoke. A very heavy, weighty smoke. Even looking at it caused the great beings a degree of alarm. What creature would need be alarmed to see the very essence of all?
It was not their own power which brought about the smoke, they were the catalyst of something far greater. However, to be a catalyst for powers so great was in itself a tremendous feat. Lower beings would be torn asunder, their fragile essences unable to handle being used for such high purpose.
They were coming now, slowly their essences were seizing upon the gap, they were latching on to the opportunity to be once more. Wherever they were, in the 'Abyss' or the 'Void'; in the 'Hells of Time' or 'The Warp'. They come, they come, they return.
They Rise.
Vowzra, God of Time
Might: 4
Might: 4
A strange voice does whisper in the heads, in the minds. It says strange things, great things. It speaks of what is to come and what has been, and what does happen now. It speaks, and as it speaks, all listen.
"Let the worlds be witness, let them cry out in joy and fear, in happiness and misery, for you have arrived in this world, you have now set your entity and being into this world, you have come into existence.
No.
You have always existed. You have always been here. Waiting. You , Vowzra, the Master of Creation, the Lord of Time, have ascended, you have taken your rightful place in this New World, as was your destiny, your Fate."
Gone were the Hells of Time. The essence bristled at the memory of that place. It ate into itself, attempting to shrink and weep eternally. No more. No more would it suffer in that place. It ripped out.
Weightlessness. Floating in the nothingness. Vowzra slowly allowed himself to see. Allowed himself to feel and sense. Allowed his innate power to spread around and know all, allowed for his all-seeing eye to pervade the fabric of this new world.
He Saw.
There was Nothing. A virgin world. Creatures of immense power stood nearby - no, they did not stand, they just...existed there. It was difficult to pinpoint exactly how they existed or what they were or why they were, indeed, their was simply a gap in Vowzra's knowledge about them.
Their's was a power greater than Vowzra knew to exist, far greater than a god...
What were these things which hung there, as if they were part of the scenery? Yet around them was an aura of such might and glory. So much that they could not be ignored, that nothing but them could truly be regarded. Despite his inability to see or know anything about these too beings, Vowzra found a name creeping into his mind. The one called Invictus spoke.
"You are become Life, the creator of worlds," it said, the pleasure in its voice so overwhelming that the usually serene and emotionless Vowzra felt a strange euphoric happiness rise up in him. He tried to remove the strange emotion, tried to uproot it and chuck it away, but no matter how he tried, he could not. He could not overwhelm the happiness of this Invictus and bind it to his own serene, disdainful will. So Vowzra bore with it. He slowly floated outwards, still in a smoke-like state, slowly taking form.
First a wooden hand emerged from the smoke of creation, then a wooden head, and a body followed close behind, until an old man, made of wood with leaves for hair and bark for skin floated before Invictus. For a while he looked at it, then at the other creature, knowing with a certainty that it was Fate. That thing which he was so tied to, for Fate and Time were interlinked and related, a future could not exist without Fate, and there could be no Fate without Time. And without Vowzra, this world would not have Time.
It was a strange feeling, not to be able to know more about these beings when he willed himself to know. He did not ask though, a god did not ask, especially one so proud and patient as Vowzra.
He knew, however, that there were more like him. He could sense them, his...siblings. Slowly, Vowzra turned and stared into the smoke of creation, and as he stared into it, he could feel that living, breathing, all-consuming darkness staring into him. His very essence shriveled before might and power which dwarfed him in untold ways. If a god could feel fear, then it was what Vowzra felt in that moment, before he once more gathered all his disdain and lack of emotion within his essence.
His siblings were coming, and together, yes, together, they would defile this virgin world with their energies. The voices of the two mighty beings came from behind him, but they seemed to echo in all directions, they seemed to originate in Vowzra's very being.
'Rise'
