There was only sorrow. An endless amount of it. That was what Zima felt when her eyes opened and her senses returned. She gripped herself tight, a numbing cold running down her back. She looked up to judge what time of day it was. The world had gone dark but it wasn’t night. She could see the sun but its warmth and light eluded her. That sun, it looked wrong, like a foggy haze covered it and the sky. Or maybe that was just her vision? Zima rubbed her eyes and opened them again. She could still see of course but it was a different view then what she remembered and still like before, misty.
The spirit sat up with a single thought and took in her surroundings again just to be sure. She frowned, for her entire world was covered in a haze that muted once bright and vivid colors. Trees dripped with water, like looming giants waiting to see the light of day. The bank she sat on was damp and dark. Swirls of the spectral mist whipped and blew here and there. She felt as if that was just how it was now, a depressing sight. Why was that? Not really thinking, or thinking too much, Zima plunged her hand into the wet sand, eyes going wide as her fingers went in. In the past… She could not do that. She would have had to possess it with her strength, take control and use it as a body.
She removed her and looked out at the still and quiet lake. The gate, she found, was still there. Even covered in a haze it stood out to her like a beacon. She could see the Vahuras ferrying souls, like the squirrel that brought her and…
Mish-Cheechel.
Pain erupted in her mind as she re-lived her most recent memories and Zima grimaced. The tunnel run. Mish vanished into the air. She ran after him. She… She looked to her hands to find them very much see through and grey. She moved them in the air before her, a smoky black after-image trailed where her appendage went. Where once this would have distrubed her, she hardly felt a thing. In fact, the pain in her chest and head had quickly faded once her memory had been jogged.
She died again, hadn’t she?
But where was Mish? She looked around for him but she didn’t see anything or anyone. His curse meant he was alive somewhere, probably where the Green Murder killed them. She knew not where it was and didn’t really care. Mish had gotten her killed again. What had been the point of even trying to escape?
Well, she knew what to do. With or without him, she had said. It was time for peace.
She rose and walked upon the water towards the gate. Each footstep left a small ripple in the water that faded into the dark waters. Leaving Mish behind would be fine. It was a decision she did not have to wrack her mind against. This was final and it would be so. It would also serve him right for getting her killed again. In fact, this was a mercy on her part! She would save him from having to make the hard decision to use her as a weapon again. That earlier trial where he had confessed to her about his thoughts, rang true in her own mind and Zima grew angry.
Her hands balled into fists as her posture straightened. This was all his fault to begin with! She had been stupid to wantingly kill herself just so they could scratch a god. How insane was that?
Before long the apparition from the first time she had arrived, rose from the water and stopped right before her, breaking her train of thought. Zima relaxed a little as she stared at it.
“You may not pass.” It said suddenly, “You are not worthy.”
She froze. “What?” she asked in a voice with brimming emotion, taken aback. She blinked, and rubbed at her throat. Even her voice sounded different, almost lifeless and devoid of energy. “H-How am I not worthy?” She managed to say.
“Only the worthy dead my pass. You are neither dead nor worthy.” It crossed its arms, loose robes tattered and drifting far too slowly for it to be wind.
“What… What do you mean?” Zima asked, eyes growing wide, breath quickening. If she needed to breathe or not, it was lost upon her as her mind tried to wrap itself around what the apparition was telling her.
“You are not dead. How could you be worthy?” It stated as a matter of fact.
Zima blinked. She looked at the gate, then all the souls being brought to it. Giant squirrels, bats, owls, other creatures she could not name brought the shapes and forms of bjork, beast and other humanoid creatures. Some wept, some shouted, others were silent.
“I’m not alive.” She said, glaring back at the apparition. “I can see the gate. I can see those souls being ferried! Only the dead may do that.” She pointed at herself.
“They are worthy. You, on the other hand, are not alive. Nor are you dead. You are not worthy, Zima Zimmer. One who is cursed may not pass.” It began to pass beneath the waves, like before, saying one last thing. “You are barred from the underworl-”
Or at least it was going to, before Zima lurched forward and grabbed it by its ethereal garbs. Water rippled underneath her as her fists clenched the creature who made no sense. Though the figure had no face, she could feel its full gaze upon her. “Unhand me. Now.” It commanded.
Zima did no such thing. It was not an impulse that drove her to grab the figure, it had been something else more nefarious. She wanted answers and it didn’t get to leave without telling her what she wanted to know. A scowl formed on her face, born of hate.
“No. I won’t until you give me a better answer.” Her voice grew with anger and disbelief. “You aren’t making any sense. How can one not be alive and not be dead? I’m cursed? How? Why?” It said nothing to her, nor did she give it the opportunity to do so. “Tell me.” Her voice cut like a knife, growing distraught. “Why won’t you say anything? Just tell me! TELL ME!” She shouted at it and the figure began to squirm in her grasp, trying to break free.
A black, smoking flame quickly spread from her fingertips and across the figure’s robes. Where the fire consumed, its body wore away to nothing. It only gasped as she watched it become nothing within her grasp. Zima had never even let go.
Her hands shook as she looked at them. What had she just done? What had… She had just killed. She had just… Murdered. The thing that was Zima caught her reflection in the glassy waters below and she stared at the creature that looked back. Gaunt was her face, harrowed and tired. Her entire body was practically see through with swirling grey lines and black after-images. Her hair drifted in a breeze she could not feel. But it was her eyes she could not peer away from. Black pupils, surrounded by a deep crimson in a sea of grey. Where once they had been blue and friendly, now her eyes only reminded her of something darker and pervasive.
Zima recoiled and tried to change forms, tried to make the living nightmare end but it was no use. She had been attuned so strongly to the world and now her connection was gone. She could not change her form, she could not even use the waters as a shield to hide her visage.
Yet. It was not her image that frightened her, however. It was more so that she felt nothing for what she had just done to that apparition. A greater part of her was more annoyed at the fact she hadn’t gotten any answers to her current predicament. Another part only felt disgust at the act but even that was fading.
She clutched her fists again and strode forth towards the barrier with renewed focus. About halfway to it, she felt repulsed by some invisible shield. No matter how much she wanted to go on, the Gate never became closer. This didn’t work well with her, so Zima screamed with rage and battered her fists on the force that repelled her. Black flame leaked from her hands, dripping into the water and making it exhume a dark steam. It was odorless and Zima paid no attention to it as she pounded her fists against the unknown.
With a final strike, she was flung far back onto the water, sending violent waves as she sank beneath the waves. It was an odd sensation, for it felt as if she was falling through the water. It did not want to touch her and only then did Zima gain a semblance of control over herself. She landed on the murky bottom and stared up at the darkness.
What had she become? She clutched at her bare chest.
Something was missing… Try as she might to remember, she could not. What was it? What had it been? Where had it gone? Who took it? She was not the same as she was before. This was not a startling fact, for it felt as if it had always been so. But that wasn’t right. It couldn’t be. She remembered everything before she rushed through the gate. How life had been, how she had acted, how she had felt.
But now?
They felt like the land around her, foggy. She grabbed her head and slammed a fist into her temple out of frustration. Gritting her teeth she let out an anger filled cry, muffled by the water. This wasn’t her. She wasn’t like this. What was she missing? What was-
A rock sank right beside her. Then another, a small ways off. Zima perked up and calmed herself just enough to stand upon the rocky bottom before she floated to the surface. Another rock came tumbling down as she neared the surface. There was some sort of muffled voices up on land.
She peaked her eyes up out of the water and saw a strange sight. There stood two figures. Both were breathtakingly pale with glowing blue eyes. The smaller one, a boy, with stark white hair, was being held back by the larger figure. One hand was over his mouth and the other was gripping his wrist, which held a rock. The larger figure was a girl, with wide blue eyes and long grey hair. They wore fur garments and then the boy, with his free hand pointed at her. The girl turned to look and froze. She blinked and her eyes stopped glowing, then the boy’s. IThey looked shocked to see her.
The girl gave a quick and hasty bow, before she began to pull away the boy with great haste. Enough that he dropped his last rock. Zima erupted from the water and landed upon the surface, sending waves. She shouted at them, “Wait! WAIT!” as she began to give chase but they didn’t stop, vanishing into the forest.
Zima reached the beach, her legs carried her with a speed she had never known on two legs. She could hover but could she even fly still? She shook her head, there would be time for that but not now. She didn’t know who they were but Zima was intrigued and there was nothing at the gate for her anymore.
She would have answers to her questions, no matter what it took.
Zima wakes up from her transformation and thinks herself dead again since she can see souls and what not. She looks around for Mish, blames him for her predicament and gives up. So she heads out over the water and is stopped by the ghost apparition again, who says she cannot pass for she is neither dead, worthy, or even alive for that matter. This doesn’t go over well with Zima and she accidentally murks the dude. She finds out she cannot even get close to the gate, for she is repulsed by an unseen force and so throws a tantrum and sinks to the bottom of the lake. A little later she sees that rocks are being thrown down and nearly hitting her at the bottom so she goes to investigate and finds two Voirans, a boy and a girl, who upon seeing two crimson eyes peering out from the water at them, dip real fast. So Zima gives chase.
Zima = 16 +1 for post +1 for main char +1 for medium length
LORD of the DEATH-ROAD | WATCHER | DEATHDART | SHEPHERD of SOULS | MASTER of the SCALES of JUSTICE SOVEREIGN of the AFTERWORLD | LORD of SOULS
&
Chailiss
Blinding Love
On the Eternal Field of Champions, beneath the Tree of Knowledge, in the tree-hollow leading to the Chamber of Weighing and Judgement, sat the creator and sustainer of all souls, the Lord of the Death-Road, and the Master of the Scales of Justice. Voi the Deathdart, face of darkness hidden beneath his hood and eyes of blue light gazing into distances beyond mere sight, neither sighed nor wept for Mish-Cheechel the Avenger or Zima the Zimmer. Though the likes of Mish-Cheechel were blinded by the likes of Phelenia to the true source of all mortal suffering, Voi was in no way blind. “This, too, will pass. That’s how it is.” The god murmured, looking away and rubbing a gloved hand across the inside of the hollow. When he next lifted his gaze, it was to find his long-awaited visitor approaching.
“You are not easy to find, Voi.” Chailiss spoke, as he flew across the expanse that separated them.
Voi stood as the other god approached. “And yet you have found me, brother.”
Chailiss wore the guise of his true form, but much smaller, before that too changed as he landed by the Tree of Knowledge. He took on the form of a man, cloaked in white with icy eyes. He approached Voi and stopped at a respectable distance, before bowing. “I apologize for coming unannounced, but I have need of you in this my troubling time.”
The Sovereign of the Afterworld approached the Warden of Winter and the world shifted momentarily. When it returned to normalcy, two cushioned curule chairs had appeared and Voi gestured for the other god to make himself comfortable. “Be seated, brother, and steel your kind young heart. Sorrows never come by their lonesome, but march in endless legions to strike the grieved heart low. That’s how it is. But whatever it is that troubles you, I will aid you in what way I can.” And so saying, Voi sat down and leaned forward, his blue pinpricks staring attentively at the winter god.
The winter god looked around after finding the world about them so subtly changed. His attention soon after fell back upon Voi and he sat down, leaning forward as well. He crossed his fingers together and laid his chin upon them as he spoke. “You are kind to a strange kinsgod of yours. It does me good to see that and I thank you for it. First I must ask you, what is this place we are in? Long did I travel in this underworld of yours, seeing and hearing many things but none of those places were quite like this.”
Voi looked around and then nodded. “It is true, this place is different. It is not a place of trial, like those that come before it, and it is not a place of judgement, like that which comes after it. This is the Field of Champions, where the weapons of the worthy are laid down after a long journey, and where preparations for judgement are made. Mortalkind has yet to learn, however, and so none have yet passed through here on their way - save two, but that is quite another matter.” He turned his gaze on the enormous tree. “And this is the Tree of Knowledge. Questions come here for an answer.” The god turned his face back to Chailiss. “I never thought that even divine questions would be answered here, but here we are.”
Chailiss raised an eyebrow. “Then I am the first of our kind to be here?”
“That you are,” Voi affirmed, “although there was one divine interloper some time back. He came by a rather unconventional back route of sorts, which I have not been able to replicate. You are the first here though, yes. You honour me.”
“Honor…” Chailiss frowned slightly at the word before moving on. “And I am honored to be had. Though, I suppose what you say isn’t too surprising. Only few care for what happens when the living die. Others do not, or are obsessed with stopping it completely. Others… they would seek the doom of everything. Do you know who the interloper was?”
Voi was quiet for a thoughtful moment. “I… do know, yes. He is the one known to bjorkkind as the Singing Maker; our drunken brother, Jiugui. Why do you ask?”
“Simple curiosity I suppose.” Chailiss gave a small smile.
Voi chuckled. “I can appreciate that. I too am rather the curious sort. Our brother Jiugui is… quite entertaining.”
“I know nothing of him besides his name and the impression he left upon the bjork. A drunken god… who would have thought?” He leaned back and crossed his arms. “You did say two others, mortals, had visited this place? Who were they, might I ask?”
“There is no need to hide it, I suppose.” Voi enunciated slowly. “They came together, and tried to leave together too, but…” he did not quite sigh, but rather simply paused. “It was Mish-Cheechel, the manbjork whose people you buried sometime back,” the god did not bother to explain how he knew this, but continued, “alongside one of yours, going by the name of Zima.”
The other god’s eyes lit up and he sat straight. “Zima? Zima is the name she chose for herself? Zima…” he smiled. “It is a good name, I am glad to hear it.” But his smile faltered and with a sigh he looked to Voi once more, “What happened, Voi? Where is she?”
“Mish-Cheechel happened, brother. She stood right here,” he gestured to a spot right before the tree hollow, “one step away from the promise of eternal bliss.” He leaned forward. “She could have been happy. That’s what she wanted, she said as much. But…” he sat back, “she thought to go try find happiness with Mish-Cheechel - and Mish-Cheechel is many things, but happy he will never be and happiness he’ll never bring.” He looked down. “I guess love blinds us to what stands in plain sight. That’s how it is.” The blue pinpricks beneath his hood flickered momentarily, but then returned. “So they took the path back to life together - and I told them that way lies pain, but they did not heed me. I told them that they had chosen to go together and had best keep to that, else their pain would blossom into true suffering. That’s how it happened. They did not keep together brother, what am I to do? Go look at them now.”
Chailiss stood, fists balled. A cold mask spread out over his face. “What has befallen my daughter, Voi? What has this Mish-Cheechel brought upon her? Why would she listen to him? Why?” He sighed, utterly defeated, and sank back into his chair. “No. You are right. Love does blind us all. It would blind me to rage but my heart cannot take more violence against any for a long time, if ever.” He leaned forward, grief splayed out on his face now. “Please Voi, please tell me. What has become of my daughter? What have you done to her? Please.”
“Not I, Chailiss, not I. They did this to themselves. Don’t seek her out, it will only mount pain on your pain. If in time she can overcome her suffering, she will find you. Of that I have no doubt.” He slid from the chair and bent on one knee before the other god. “Don’t ask me again, because I will not withhold it from you. Just know that if you do, the answer will do nothing but inflame your pain. There is no need, trust me on this.”
The other god’s eyes became downcast as he gave Voi a small nod. “Apologies for assuming… I do trust you, Voi. But I do not have the luxury of being oblivious to the plight and pain of one so dear to me. As her cre- Father. Love, after all…” he gave a weary smile, “so tell me, please.”
The Lord of Souls rose and returned to his seat, head bent pensively. “Your daughter has become something neither completely living nor entirely dead, cast from the underworld to wander the material plane. I can’t say if she knows who or what she is anymore, or whether she can even feel. Where she goes, no good feelings remain and all is suffering and discord. She is suffering and discord. That’s how it is, brother - I told them, ‘do not go there, do not walk there, there is only pain there,’ but they did not heed me. That’s how it is; that’s how it will be until she awakens to the truth of suffering. None can save her but herself, no one can and no one may; she herself must walk the way.”
The god brought a hand to his face and said nothing for several minutes… until at last he rose from his feet. His eyes were raw. He had never looked so haggard as he was now, and sorrow was his expression. “Thank you for telling me. Even if she can’t be helped by another, it is my duty to at least ensure she cannot harm others. I must go now, before it is too late. Your hospitality, despite the heavy news, was a pleasure, Voi.” He began to leave but stopped. “Homura will seek you out soon. She wanted Zima as a witness to stand trial for attempted murder, to be reprimanded. I don't think she’ll get that wish but I thought you should know to expect another.”
Voi did not say anything for a few moments, but then nodded slightly to Chailiss. “I will expect her.” As Chailiss began to walk away, Voi spoke up again. “Though, brother, there are surely many witnesses. What crime is this?”
He turned to Voi. “Phelenia will be called to answer for her needless murder against the bjork. I’m sure you will be of most help to Homura when she comes asking for witnesses.”
Voi’s blue eyes flickered. “Hmm, odd indeed. What need is there for witnesses when the perpetrator has not denied the deed? Because that’s how it is. Perhaps..,” he glanced up at Chailiss, “well, it would be cynical to say it, but maybe there is another matter she seeks me for, which she has withheld from you. I will expect her in any case.”
“I am sure Homura can fill you in on all she needs. Her mind is alien to me.” Chailiss continued on his walk and Voi walked after him.
“I’ll walk with you a while. You seemed rather a little… off when I mentioned honour earlier. Is there something you hold against Homura?” He glanced at Chailiss with twinkling eyes, “other than what is known, of course.”
“That goddess thinks that everything is a perversion of what it should be. That nature is an abomination that cannibalized upon itself, that death has no place in the cycle. That all of the mortals should be kept upon her sacred path. I can make no sense of it no matter how many times I listen. She has offered me the chance to kill her upon every occasion we have met if I thought she would fall down a darker path. The most frightening thing about it is that she is serious.”
Voi glanced at his brother as they walked. “If Homura is anything, she is passionate. When first we met she created her spear - Daybreaker she called it - and pointed it at me, pressed it right here,” he tapped his chest, “things could have gone rather awry if I were the angry sort.” He paused thoughtfully. “She spoke to me of war then, asked me what I would do when war came. I guess that says something about her - always looking ahead, always preparing for the worst. Always seeing the worst. You need gods like that, they’re the ones who come through when everything goes wrong. That’s how it is. It might mean she misspeaks sometimes - what, with her eyes so fixed on distant disasters - but it should not be held against her. She just cares very deeply. That’s how it is, brother.” The god looked heavenward. “I doubt she meant what you think she did about death. She knows the importance of balance to me, the importance of life and death to me - to all things. She is passionate, that’s all.” After a few seconds, he looked at the other god with twinkling eyes. “Did you see how she dances? It is beyond beautiful.”
“You speak highly of her. I cannot say I have seen her dance. Perhaps you could ask to dance with her when she comes? Might do her good to take her mind off things for a time.” Chailiss mused, causing Voi to chuckle awkwardly. “But regardless, I am sure you will find out exactly what she means and what she doesn’t mean when she seeks you out. Passionate or not, maybe if it comes to it, you can reason with her where others have failed.” Chailiss looked straight ahead as he spoke, arms at his side in a slow pace.
“W-well.” The Lord of Souls mumbled. “I’ll do what I can. She’s not bad. And you’re not either.” He fiddled with his grey gloves. “Do you think-” he stopped himself. “Ah, no, that’s stupid.” He cleared his throat. “But speaking of dancing, it appears that a certain other dancer has managed to find her way north, and is not in a good way at all. Our sister Rosalind even now bleeds her life out in your domains. You should see to her.”
Chailiss stopped in his tracks and peered down at Voi out of the corner of his eye. “Why is it that such sorrow strikes my heartland?” He then fully turned to Voi. “How are you certain of this?”
Voi glanced at Chailiss then shrugged slightly. “There were witnesses, and word reached me. Now I don’t know if a god can bleed to death, but she will be finding out if something is not done soon. That’s how it is.”
“A few of our kin have already passed… But Zima…” His eyes became downcast as he wrestled with the decision. “You said Zima would wander… Then I hope I will be able to find her before she does something terrible. Now,” he placed a hand on Voi’s shoulder, “where is Rosalind?”
Voi raised his gloved hand and snapped his fingers, causing a gyrating wisp to form up before them, which slowly took on the shape of a small bird of swirling blue flame. “My little friend here will show you to her.” The blue bird hovered in the air before them, then beat its ethereal wings of flame and shot off. “Godspeed, Chailiss.”
He looked to the bird, then to Voi. “Thank you, may we meet again on happier tides.” He let go of the god and began to shift into his divine form, becoming snow, but his voice echoed ever on to his fellow god, “you know more than most that life is fleeting. Ask her to a dance,” before the snowflakes became a distant orb and the god of cold was gone.
The Lord of Souls watched his brother leave with eyes of widened blue, then chuckled and shook his head. “Clever snowman.”
-Chailiss arrives in the Field of Champions and visits with Voi. The two gods discuss many things and questions are answered. -Eventually their talk arrives upon Zima and Mish and after some prodding and reassurances, Voi tells them the fate of his daughter. This devastates Chailiss and he makes a move to go after her and at least contain her. -Voi travels with him for a time and they talk of Homura, the need for witnesses and love. Voi eventually tells Chailiss that Rosalind is bleeding out in his own realm. Coupled with a dire choice, Chailiss decides to go bring aid to Rosa, noting that Zima will have to be by herself for a time. -Chailiss leaves Voi on good terms and tells the Soul God to ask Homura for a dance when she arrives to visit him.
Chailiss
1 (gains +1 for Yolly week) None spent
=2 vigor
Voi 3 Vigour
--Create the Eternal Field of Champions - A great field of grass, earth, and knolls, at the centre of which stands the enormous Tree of Knowledge. All souls who are armed with weapons and armours to protect them along the Death-Road and through the Trials ultimately end up here. This is the place they shed all their equipment and magics so as to move on to the final judgement in the Chamber of Judgement and Weighing. These weapons and armours can be found littered across the Fields, and any living person mad enough to brave the underworld may be able to find their way here and claim a mighty prize. This is a permanent divine quest that any living non-divine can take. --Create the Tree of Knowledge - A tree of enormous size in which is an equally great hollow. Anyone who wishes to pose a question to the Lord of Souls, or is after some form of knowledge that has evaded them in the world of the living, can come here in pursuit of it. Those who complete the divine quest to reach the Eternal Field may opt for a philosophy or certain technology as a prize, as opposed to arms and armour from the Fields.
“Didn’t I tell you to go home?” Mish-Cheechel asked. He was standing above her shattered and frozen form, the Green Murder’s own body some feet away. The trees loomed all around and his coal-black eyes were hard. “Didn’t I tell you not to follow me?”
“W-What?” Confusion rippled with Zima’s voice. “Mish? But you were…” What was going on? “I… I had to follow you. You are my friend and I promised I wouldn’t let you go alone.”
“Yes. But I told you to stay where you were; I told you to go home. Friends listen. You didn’t, and now… look at you.” He gestured to her shattered form, sorrow and fury etched on his face. “Didn’t you pause to think before rushing in?”
“I… I didn’t.” Her voice grew soft. “I saw you in danger… Gesturing for me… So I did and I died.”
The manbjork bent low and leaned over, gazing into the fractured remains of her eyes, stroking what passed for a kit’s lips. “And if you had stayed away, like I said, like I insisted, like I ordered you when I was lucid, would you have been there to see the gesturing of a madbjork?” His eyes shimmered and there was almost a single tear in one of his eyes, but he looked to the side and blinked it away. “You… you acted selfishly, Zim. If you had any regard for me you would have listened.”
“I acted selfishly?” She asked him, voice growing with anger. “Don’t push your guilt onto me! Don’t blame me for what I did! I am not some thing to be ordered around, Mish-Cheechel. It was my choice to follow after you and my choice to jump into that burning spear. I HAD TO! For- For BEAR! Or did you forget him when you tried to kill that stupid god?” When her tirade finished, Zima was appalled. Where did those words come from?
The manbjork’s jaw hardened at her words and he scowled down at her, though the hurt could hardly be masked from his eyes. “Here is a simple truth: Bear was a wild creature. Without that saddle, he would have mauled us. Did I care for him? A bit. Did I care for him as much as I care for you? No. But that bear taught me something. It taught me that you can die. It taught me that you are not built for the warpath. And it taught me that I would offer you up in sacrifice for the sake of vengeance.” His face contorted with guilt and anger. “And I told you to stay away. I told you Zima. And here you are! Dead; shattered; broken! You should have listened to me. Better yet, you should have felt for me. But you were so holed up in your own head that you just couldn’t could you?” He rose swiftly and kicked a block of ice into the dark depths of the forest, fists clenched and shoulders trembling.
“I… You… Sacrifice?” She stumbled over the words, wrapping his words around her mind. His words cut something deep inside of her that threatened to overwhelm her in the same sadness she felt, she still felt, for Bear’s death. Her voice filled with emotion. “I have felt… Every bit of your pain. Every brush with death, from the moment we met and fought over Zabitsyn.” Though she could not feel it, she knew somehow, she was crying. “Hidden behind that mask of hate and fire, behind those brooding eyes; it’s just pain and the fear of feeling nothing. I thought that perhaps you would learn to smile and laugh again with me at your side. You cared for me and for that I am thankful. Did I make mistakes along the way? Yes… And I’m sorry for making you feel this way over my decision. We were two souls who only thought in the moment. But please, do not believe for one moment that I never felt for you. I have and always will.”
The manbjork did not turn, but his fists unclenched and shoulders relaxed. “So if you understood… if you felt for me, as you say… why did you not stay away?” He turned back to her. “Why did you help pull this monster growing in me from the womb? Why did you let me kill you?”
“Mish… My mind at the time was not thinking straight. I was so sad, perhaps I still am, where nothing at all felt the same. Like a dark hungry void saps all the joy away. Your words… I did not hear them as I should have. So when I came upon you in this clearing, my mind went to but one thing- Protect. That was what pap- father made us Nisshi for, after all.” She took a deep breath. “I died… Mish… Because I love you. Because even when all seemed lost, I could at least try to keep you from harm. I realize now that I failed you. But this isn’t you… Not really.” She sighed. “The apparition said… only one. But if this is how he feels… I’m so sorry.”
The manbjork bent down and started gathering up her shattered pieces. Slowly her face - now kit-like, now otterlike, now not so unlike Homura - took shape, then the rest of her. As he brought her back together, the ice melted back into one and before long the nisshi lay whole before him. Quietly, Mish-Cheechel looked at her. He did not smile, but there was sombre thoughtfulness there. At last, though, he sighed and placed a hand on Zima’s head and spoke. “You’re good, kit, you’re good.”
And he faded; the forest faded; the Green Murder’s form faded. All faded but Zima.
She blinked and when her eyes opened she was somewhere else entirely. There was a stony path with a faint white glow coming from somewhere down it. Lining the path were trees and above them were an uncountable number of stars in the dark. She gasped loudly and was met with a laugh.
Startled, she looked towards the source and found herself looking up at a very tall being. Her skin was tan, darker in the night sky, while her long hair was auburn with a glint of fire. She had a kind face to her, so unlike anything Zima had seen before.
“I was just like you, when I saw the heavens. It was so beautiful.” Her smile was warm and Zima felt at ease in her presence.
“Is this… Another trial?” Zima squeaked out.
The woman shook her head. “No, this is a place for rest after the trial is done. My name is Lansa and I was the first to come here. You are the second.”
“Lansa?” Zima said aloud, “I am Zima… the Zimmer. Why are you so tall?”
The woman chuckled. “Hello Zima, it is nice to meet you. As for your question, I am tall because the Spirit Father made us this way.”
“The Spirit Father?” She asked, floating around Lansa and taking her in. She wore a funny thing, like a skin over her skin. Was it fur?
“Yes, the Spirit Father. The Guiding Spirit? Lord of Winter?”
“You mean papa?” Zima asked with sudden excitement as she zipped in front of her face.
“Papa…? Are you… one of his daughters, Zima?” Lansa asked.
“Yes! Pa- Father made me, a Nisshi, with a lot of others. He made me aware and I have been living ever since. Well, not anymore I suppose. I died.”
“I died too.” Lansa confided. “How did you meet your end, Zima?”
“I… tried to protect my friend. We both paid the price though. He said he would wait for me on the other side of the gate. Whenever and wherever it leads. How did you meet your end, Lansa?”
The woman’s eyes grew sad. “Death came to me in the guise of jealousy. I’ll spare you the details but here I am.”
“I’m sorry, Lansa.” Zima said with a pang of sadness. She knew what it felt like to die. There was no need to pry for answers. Still, she did need to know one thing. “Why don’t you move on to the next gate, Lansa?”
The taller woman looked down the path and smirked. “The first trial was hard enough. I might stay here for a time, see if I meet any others. I had some regrets in life, I need to know if I might ever get them resolved. Just to see. Don’t let me stop you though. I’ll be alright. There are plenty of stars to look at.”
The sounds of birds chirping and running water came first to her ears and as she opened her eyes she was welcomed to the sight of a glade. Flowers of purple, yellow and red dotted the ground, with a few bushes of berries. The buzzing of bees was what she noticed next, large and bulbous without a care in the world. Zima smiled at that. There was a pond with lily pads and cattails too, fed by a meandering brook that cut the glade in half. The smells here were fragrant and floral, of honey and fresh air. It was beautiful.
Still, she looked past what was before her and found that she was surrounded by pine trees as tall as her eyes could see. They were so dense and packed she could see nothing beyond them except for the brook that lazily winded down and cut into the forest right next to the…
Gate.
She had almost forgotten the apparition’s words. There could be many or none. It seemed her trial was not yet over. She began to walk through the tickling grass, past the small pond, by the brook and flowers. A reflection in the still waters caught her attention and she looked with a gasp. Staring back was not who she expected to be staring back up at her. It was her… but different. She touched her pale, almost translucent skin upon her new face. She pinched her cheeks and felt them. All the while, icy blue eyes watched what was going on in a mix of awe and fear. Why did she look like.. or sort of like Lansa? Her hair, a translucent silver, was long and curly. Her arms were skinny, and she wore fur- no, clothes (as Lansa had called them). It was a silly thing that covered her small chest and ran down past her knees. Very lightweight, she lifted it up to see an undergarment of a simple white cloth before letting the cloth go. It was very airy, not at all tight like fur, she imagined at least.
Well, odd as it was, she found herself admiring her new form with her small button nose and round eyes. She flashed a smile and saw pearly whites. She giggled. But this new form in no way impeded her journey towards the gate, so as fun as it was to stop and stare, she continued on. Or at least she started until… She felt a tug on her new clothes.
She looked down behind her and gasped.
It was a bjork kit. The bjork kit. Zabitsyn son of Mish-Cheechel!
He laughed, “Nisshi! Want to play a game?”
She blinked. “Z-Zabitsyn?”
“That’s me!” He proclaimed with a beaming smile.
“Oh Zabitsyn!” Zima cried, falling to her knees and hugging the small kit. He returned the hug, burying his face into her chest. She coddled and wept as she held the kit. It had been so long and his life had ended so tragically. Yet he was here now and Zima found herself happy. She hadn’t felt happy since… Bear. But the question still nibbled at her mind.
“I wanted so much to hug you and the others. But then you n-never came and I…” She cut herself off and wiped her tears away before, briefly pulling away, and rubbing her hands across his cheeks. “How are you here now? Where is this place?” She asked him.
The bjork kit giggled. “I don’t know! But it’s nice! Just like when we played at the creek!”
“Those were happy days, weren’t they?” She said with a lax smile. She looked around again, holding the kit tight to her. Her gaze fell upon the gate and her jumbled thoughts pointed her in that direction.
But…
“Why don’t we play a game Zima?” he asked in a small, excitable voice. Zima looked back down at him and smiled.
“I would love nothing else.” She replied. What was one game before moving on?
Zabitsyn squirmed his way out of her arms, and began to run back up towards the pond. “Bet you can’t catch me!”
Zima smiled and then laughed, “Oh I bet I can!”
So the two friends, once apart, played games in the sun of the glade. They chased each other in games of tag, they would see who could jump the farthest into the pond, who could hold their breath longest under the water, who could swim fastest and who could make the largest splash. All the while they laughed and Zima felt content and happy. She hadn’t realized just how much she had missed the interactions with the kits. It was a simple time and the memories were only of mirth.
The young kit was a master of figuring out games to play, he could always come up with a new one after he or Zima won the previous one. There was never a dull moment and on the rare occasion they took a break, Zima would hug and hold him. They would talk of those days past and what it meant to them but… That was about it. There was never any talk of the future or the present besides, ‘do you want to play another game?’ and Zima began to wonder when the trial would start. Surely it would be soon? But the gate… her eyes were beginning to wander to it more and more.
It was still open.
“Zabitsyn?” She asked once. “I think I need to go soon. The gate…”
“No!” The bjork kit shuffled onto his tiny feet and looked up at her. “Please don’t go, Zima.” He grabbed her hand with his two small paws and a pang of guilt wrenched at her heart. “Please stay for another game.” Tears welled in his eyes.
How could she refuse?
Zima was beginning to lose track of time. How long had she been here? How many games had they played? How many times had they talked of the past? It all blurred into one, like she was in a never ending loop of fun and happiness. She loved it of course, but she had a nagging feeling. Her purpose was to complete the trials and meet Mish-Cheechel on the other side, right? Then why was it so hard to do that?
She knew she had to go but each and every time she said goodbye, Zabitsyn would disagree. He would become sad and distraught at the sight of his friend wanting to leave. It broke her heart each and every time, how he guilted her into staying for just one more game.
As time passed and the cycle continued, Zima began to realize- or perhaps she always knew- what the trial actually was. She had to leave. No matter what. Despite the pain it would bring.
Upon their final game, seeing who could collect the most blades of grass, Zima let Zabitsyn win. As the small kit whooped and hollered, Zima slowed down and looked to the gate, dropping all her blades.
It was time.
She walked before him and knelt down, wrapping him in a hug. “Zabitsyn. I… Had a lot of fun here.” She smiled, “But I have to go now. Your father is waiting for me, I can’t keep him waiting forever. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry you died. I wish I could have protected you.” She gave him a kiss on the forehead and pulled away.
The bjork kit began to cry. “P-Please don’t go Zima! Please! I’ll be all alone again! Just one more game, please? One more?” He cried, pulling on her hand.
Zima looked past him and to the gate. Her own face felt wet and she took a deep, ragged breath. She wiped his tears away and with a smile, nodded. “Let’s race to the trees, alright? First one there wins.” She pointed him in the opposite direction of the gate.
Zabitsyn grew excited, his tears turning to laughs and giggles. “Okay! I’ll win for sure!”
“I bet you will.” Zima lied, lining herself up with him. “Are you ready? Okay… Go!”
Zima watched Zabitsyn begin to run. She took off in the opposite direction, towards the gate. With tears streaming down her face, she began to cry.
“Hey! Wait!” Zabitsyn called after her. “W-Wait! Zima! Don’t leave! Don’t leave me like my papa did!” He screamed after her. She felt her heart break with each step until she was at the gate.
She didn’t look back, despite the pain, as she hurtled through.
Zima found herself running through dark trees, the bright moon providing the only light that filtered through the treetops. She slowed down, trying to catch her breath. This place had a completely different feel than the trial with Zabitsyn. It was dark, almost suffocating and so quiet. There was not a sound to be heard, just her own breath and the beating of her soul.
Every direction she looked was the same. Or it at least looked that way. There were trees, bushes and the earthy smell of decay. But no landmarks to identify, no direction that felt like the right way. She was just alone in the woods. It was dark but at least it wasn’t cold. What was this trial? What was she meant to do?
Zima grit her teeth and steeled herself. Then she took a step ahead, not knowing where it would take her. But at least it was a direction.
Except, she fell. For her direction had been a cliff. An eerily similar cliff, one etched into her memory, one that she could not escape from. She only began to scream when the rock below came to meet her.
She expected doom but her eyes had been closed and no pain wiped her away. So she opened them and that was when the nightmare began.
She was back in her old form, wispy and shaking as she looked up at the demon bearing down upon her. Its flesh oozed black and it laughed - a terrible noise to her ears. She panicked, fell backwards and began to back up as it approached with raking claws and broken bones.
“N-no no no n-no!” She stammered, eyes wide with horror. It crawled towards her, crushing the bones and bodies of all the dead bjork kits from the massacre. The ground became a pool of wet, sickly blood, iron-tinged and smelling of death. She opened her mouth to scream but nothing came. She froze when her form touched wet, matted fur. She shook with so much terror in her heart but looked anyway.
It was Mish-Cheechel. His throat had been cut and he looked at her with cold, lifeless eyes. His spear was in his hand.
“M-M-Mish!” She cried out. “Wake up!” She pushed him as the demon’s laugh came closer and closer. “S-Save me! Please!” She wailed but it was pointless. Mish was dead and the terror was almost upon her. She turned back to the creature and froze.
It was Bear.
For a split second at least. Before his flesh and fur were ripped apart as the demon took root. His bones broke with sickening cracks, his head twisted and shook with such violence that she thought it might explode. His glassy dark orbs became fueled by a green flame of malice. Horns sprouted from his head in a vicious mockery of a crown. Limbs elongated and claws grew long and sharp. His mouth opened far too wide, wide enough to devour her whole as it laughed.
Zima grabbed her head and closed her eyes as tight as she could. This was too much for her. It was too much. She could not move, she was frozen with fear. Bear was her friend. She could not harm Bear. Even as the raking and the clawing got closer with each bloody stomp. Mish had saved her before, Mish would do so again.
Right?
He had to!
She couldn’t do this by herself, she couldn’t- she couldn’t! Bear had died because of her. Because she was too weak. She hadn’t been able to save Zabitsyn or the other kits. She hadn’t been able to save any of the bjorks. She failed. She was a failure and she was going to die all over again.
It was only right.
Except, deep down inside her, something screamed to stand. To fight back. It was drowning in a sea of dread but it was there. She just had to reach out for it, pull it to shore. Save herself from a certain defeat. Could she do it? Was death not her punishment for failing them all so horrifically? The feeling grew. She opened her eyes, and everything seemed to slow down. The demon with its corruption was nearly upon her. Bear was gone, she told herself. So was Mish.
No one was coming to save her.
No one… but herself. And even as she thought it, a feminine voice echoed all around and in the depths of her mind. It whispered softly to her, with such calm as brought serenity wheresoever the voice radiated. “No one saves us but ourselves. No one can and no one may. We ourselves must walk the way.”
It welled up inside her now, banishing the dread just enough for her to take a stand. So she did with a ferocious, primal shout. Zima grabbed Mish-Cheechel’s spear, stood up in swift - serene! - motion, and drove it deep into the demon’s skull.
A white light erupted forth and suddenly Zima found herself standing before a great swirling gate that seemed to gyre endlessly and endlessly motion. It was over…
So she walked through.
-We follow Zima through her trials, first going through Chailiss’ which covers the virtue of empathy. In it she is the shattered spear and Mish is there, they are back at the clearing and the Green Murder is dead. Mish is upset at her for not listening and this devolves into a fight before Zima realizes she was not understanding of his feelings and passes the trial. -Before she reaches the next gate the scene shifts to a winding road underneath a beautiful starry sky. She meets a familiar face there and stays for a time. - Next we find her in Zenia’s trial, where she stays with Mish’s son in endless games and happiness for literal centuries. (Or as it feels like, as she is unable to move on). She notices that her form has changed to reflect the person she met in the previous trial with noticeable differences. (She looks like a spirit ghost girl). Eventually Zima grows weary of her time playing games and realizes she needs to move on. After a very painful trick, she leaves a crying bjork kit behind. -Her final trial is a test of Courage, Rosa’s gate. She faces the Wehniek once more in twisting horror. She is all alone, Mish is dead and Bear is the Wehniek. Zima almost fails this trial but is encouraged by a woman’s voice after figuring out she has to save herself. She passes her final trial and steps through the last gate.
Zima = 3
+1 for post +1 for main character +1 for collab +1 for medium length +1 for extra length
Chailiss did not react to the world as he flew south. He heard the words of the champion and felt something else amiss in the heavens but anything else was lost to him or set aside for later thoughts. His mind was a crypt of grief and anger. For his nisshi was dead and he was to blame for abandoning her as much as the green murder was to blame for letting her kill herself. So he flew and his mind turned darker. Colder. A precaution for whatever new insults Homura would throw at him.
He made landfall in the twilight, passing a sea of inland red. Stained like crimson in the deepening dark. Viho’s knowledge was sound and soon enough a glow lit the horizon. This Eternal Flame, protected by a red keep.
It was night when he finally arrived. The three familiar colossi stood near the shore, their massive hooves hidden beneath the deep red waves, but even they seemed dwarfed by the size of the citadel close to them. The walls were almost twice the height of the titanic creatures, and formed a great circle where more than twenty of the massive machines could easily fit within. The cubic keep itself seemed to stand even taller than the walls, but lacked any features; there were no windows or balconies, no architectural flourishes or designs. For all of its grandiosity, Keltra was an incredibly barren place.
The presence of Homura lingered all across the land, but it lacked the true power of divinity, informing the Lord of Winter that the red goddess was currently absent. However, noise could be heard coming from within the keep, and the familiar sounds of Courage, Kindness, and Fear as they conversed with others that spoke with similar voices reached Chailiss.
His divine form fell away as he approached the voices from the air. He took the guise of a tall Childan man, gaunt and haggard. His hair was white, there were fresh scars upon his chest and his icy blue eyes looked on with cold clarity. He wore his artifact like a medallion, far smaller than it ought to be but just as dangerous. It hummed with power.
His feet touched down inside the keep without sound. The mortals within did not hear his arrival, but the scarlet stone called out to him. The voices of thousands cried as they sensed the coming of their lost kin. His medallion and the keep itself had once been one, but now they were nothing more than shattered corpses that had been recycled by the Divine. The mark of the Calamity was not yet healed, the wound only festering as the gods warred with each other, and life was devastated in the crossfire.
Another sacred power detected his presence, welcoming him with its light. The Eternal Fire which sustained the life inhabiting the citadel was the only thing that did not seem macabre about the fortress, where the walls and structure had been forged from death, the burning monument had been created by Homura offering her own essence to the world. By the large bonfire, the Heralds of Honor gathered and happily conversed about future plans for where they would visit, wondering about the sights they would see, and the people they would meet. Courage, Kindness, and Fear; all of them still wearing their blue crystal pendants, the last with her hand of ice, all bearing his power, then there were three more; two more simulacrums of Homura, and then a much more smaller, childish version of the red goddess.
They sat in a small area furnished with soft red pillows, and large white owl plushies resembling Viho, while a nearby table was laden with divine artifacts; an egg, a dark orb, a sheathed knife, and a wooden staff. Further within the vast hall, thousands more of the dormant vessels Homura offered were all currently sleeping. In one corner, there was a small room that seemed dedicated to one being that also slept peacefully.
His eyes went back to the smallest one. Memories of Nisshi came to his mind and he found himself staring at her. He felt a pang of regret at that moment. They looked nothing alike yet… She was small. Nisshi had been small too. It was enough for Chailiss to want to leave. The guilt was too much and he about did, as silently as he entered but he knew he had come too far now. It was too late to go back empty handed. So the god of cold summoned a small chilling breeze and sent it into the room.
It ushered a subtle disruption in their conversation, and caused a few to look towards the doorways where the God of the Cold stood. At first they hesitated, but Courage, Kindness, and Fear were quick to recover. They arose, and stepped closer before they bowed before the tall god. “Your grace, welcome to Keltra.” They said in unison.
The other three regained their composure and approached as well, repeating the same act of reverence that their sisters performed. All of them straightened themselves and looked at him with cheerful smiles which soon turned to concern when they saw his weary visage. “Are you hurt, your grace?” Kindness asked.
”Nothing that won’t heal in time, dear Kindness.” He said, forcing a small smile. ”Viho delivered Homura’s message. Here I am but where is the Lady of the keep?” He asked, changing the subject.
The smallest champion moved to the front of her sisters. “My name is Pride, and I’m the Keeper of Keltra, your grace. Our mother said she was seeking an audience with the King in Heaven, and will return soon. I’ve been told to inform you of her future intentions regarding the Green Murder and your role as the one Whose Breath Bears Icy Winds.”
He knelt before the small champion and nodded. ”Pride. You were mentioned as well. But before you tell me this,” He said, ”Who might be your other two sisters? I have not met them.” He looked upon the two whose names he did not know.
“I’m Curiosity! Nice to meet you!” The first announced, and almost jumped with her unbound enthusiasm, the sister next to her was much more subdued and simply said a single word while Curiosity poked and prodded her to get her to introduce herself. “Wanderer.” The reticent champion murmured softly. They seemed to be opposites in personality and demeanor, but their love for each other was there, hidden beneath the masks they presented.
“We heard about your land from our sisters, and we'd like to come visit sometime! Mother also promised to show us snow when she gets back!” Curiosity continued, and looked eagerly between her sisters and Chailiss. The others remained unfazed by her jubilant excitement, and stayed both polite and formal around the god. “Easy, sis.” Courage commented, but then they all awaited an answer from the God of the Cold.
”Curiosity. Wanderer. Well met.” The god tilted his head to them, eye lingering on Curiosity. Her joy, excitement… Nisshi. He went silent for several moments then gave her a small smile. ”You and your sisters are always welcome in the North. Just… Let me know if you ever come.” His gaze fell back upon the trio he knew first. ”I heard of an ill fated journey. Tell me, Fear, how is your hand treating you? Are you well? And you Courage. Are you well? Who was it that saved you?”
“I was saved by another goddess, her name was Sala. She brought me back, and reunited me with my sisters. I’m doing well, ya.” Courage answered, and a hint of sorrow slipped in her voice at the end. She stepped in between Kindness and Fear, and placed her hands on their shoulders. Her anxious sister then spoke, looking at the hand of ice that served as a replacement for her lost appendage. “I’m doing well, your grace. Your gift has really helped me. I can’t tell you how thankful I am for what you did.” Fear allowed herself to smile, and placed her frozen hand over Courage’s.
He gave a nod and then his icy gaze fell upon Kindness. ”I can only imagine what must have gone through your mind. All of your minds. Be gentle and kind to one another, for life is fleeting.” he blinked and looked to the floor. ”It can be taken from us without a moment’s notice. Hang tight to those that you love and let them know love all the same.” A frozen tear shattered upon the keep floor and Chailiss took another moment to steady himself before he looked upon Pride. ”What would your Mother expect of me then?”
The six champions looked among themselves, before wordlessly approaching the deity. Each of them embraced Chailiss, Courage tossing Pride up so that she could hug the tall god properly. “Before that, rest, your grace. Even the Divine need their moments of respite.” The small champion whispered as she clung to him. Kindness was the first to let go and spoke softly. “It is not your fault… What happened.” Curiosity joined her. “It’s not your fault.” Then Wanderer, who offered a solemn nod. Last was Courage. “Don’t blame yourself.” The usually brash champion spoke much more gently. Fear and Pride continued to hold onto Chailiss, refusing to let go.
The God of Cold did not know what to do. It was in his capacity to understand what a hug was. A sign of affection, for comfort and warmth. But to a god? So he let himself be hugged for a time, neither moving or breathing. The fact that these mortals had hearts larger than any divine, was not lost on him. For they were the future and what they all should be fighting for to protect. Even if Homura’s champions did not know the true depth of his pain or even the cause of it, they recognized something was amiss and had acted. What a gift it was. What a gift.
”Sweet things.” he began, ”The world can be a dark and cruel place but you make it better. Compassion, empathy… Kindness. These are the virtues we must hold so dear. Without them, all else seems lost.” He sighed. ”I will tell you something, for your Mother must know as well… I have met the Green Murder, she is the one who has scarred me so. And she… My… Daughter, Nisshi… She died trying to kill her. Died… Trying to avenge the death of her friends.”
The four sisters that gazed upon the god and the two that held onto him found themselves confronted by what they had been dreading ever since their mother taught them the cruelty of the world. Like before, they refused to surrender to despair, and thought they could not understand the pain Chailiss felt. They could not completely understand this divine being they inherently loved, but they could love him completely. They silently offered prayers for their fallen sister, hoping their mother heard, that the King in Heaven heard.
Pride felt the tears trail down her face, and pain constricting her throat, but she would not let such deny her the ability to articulate her feelings. “I’m sure she still loves you. She’ll love you always.”
“The Shepherd’s lost… and his home is far… The night is long… and the path is dark… Look to the sky… the dawn will come.” Wanderer sang, and then her sisters joined her.
“Shadows fall, and hope has fled… ice your heart… the dawn will come…”
Then Fear let go, and looked to Chailiss. “You saved me. Let us save you.”
As mortals, there was nothing more they could do. They stood by him, and offered their support. They were all aware that they lacked the ability to undo the damage, and that they could cause more harm if they tried to simply erase the pain. However, they would remain with him. They would always be there when he needed them.
Chailiss sat in silent reflection, shedding but one more tear. For the loss of his daughter, for the beauty he witnessed from mortals who had never even met her. His heart and soul felt the warmth of their song and touch. Perhaps his grief could be shared after all, whether he spoke or not, they did care. ”All of you remind me of her.” He said after some time. ”I think she would have liked to know you all. Perhaps even building a lasting friendship. Here…” An idea came to mind, and Chailiss waved his hand. From the ceiling came small snowflakes and then a story.
The snow acted as a medium. It showed a small wispy creature, more of a cloud or made of smoke. It danced around another figure’s head, Chailiss in the form of a bjork. The bjork disappeared and she took different shapes. A small bjork, a smaller mink, a chirping bird, and a fawn. All the while she played within the snowy images, brushing the red hair of Fear and Kindness as she danced around the room. Then the form dissipated into a poof of snowflakes that fell around Curiosity.
”A parent should only want what’s best in life for their children. I failed my daughter, for I was not there to protect her from such… Needless cruelty. Take heart, Daughters of Homura. You have pried my heart open a little, allowing warmth in again. For this, I shall always be thankful. Know that you are all beautiful souls and any parent would be proud of you.” Chailiss gave a small smile to them.
Love and grief tasted bittersweet, and though their hearts ached, there was an inner feeling that consoled them, comforted them despite the pain. “Your words bring us much joy, your grace. We can’t understand the burdens you carry, but we can pray that an angelic light guides you. As Keeper of Keltra, know that you’re always welcome here.” Pride said, unable to ascertain whether she was crying because she was sad or happy.
Then the six champions looked to the doorways, where the darkness of the night had been banished by an otherworldly light. They sensed the return of their mother. Chailiss sensed the return of Homura.
The red goddess descended towards the entrance of the keep, appearing in one of the many southern doorways where she alighted on the ground. Daybringer illuminated the world around her, and all of the dancing shadows within Keltra retreated into the Eternal Fire where they hid from the stern visage of Homura, as she approached the denizens gathered around the large bonfire.
“Brother.” She greeted him with only one word, as she stepped towards him and bowed.
Chailiss rose from his knee, his expression becoming hard and gave her a respectful nod. ”Homura. I must thank you for extending an invitation to visit your home. Your daughters and I were just about to discuss the topics you had in mind.”
“Hmm… I arrived at an appropriate time then. Allow me to explain my reasons for calling you here. First: I have learned the identity of the Green Murder. She is our sister, Phelenia, Goddess of Plants and Animals. For her crimes against life, she will stand trial and answer to justice. I require you to provide testimony as evidence, so you are being summoned as the Guardian of the North and all life that dwells there. I must ask, and know that I mean no offense, but do you still claim what you once said to me; that you will protect life? If you claim otherwise, I only require your testimony and you need not attend the trial in any other greater capacity than that.” Homura explained, her ever impassive mask and tone giving no hint to her thoughts on the matter, or regarding the one she spoke to. She was neither warm or cold, she seemed robotic in her presentation.
Chailiss nodded. ”I still claim it.” He put simply. ”As I told your daughters, so I shall tell you. I fought Phelenia. She returned to the north and summoned a flood to wash away the bjork. Too late I arrived to stop the flood outright but I did what I could to help those who suffered… Too late I arrived to stop my own daughter from dying when she tried to kill Phelenia. I… Almost killed her myself. But it was not my place to be an executioner when she had not yet been judged. I told her as much. That you would judge her. All I ask is that you do so.”
The red goddess remained silent for a moment, evidently pondering his words until she finally spoke. “She has committed greater crimes than I thought. Your daughter will have to attend the trial as well. Her attempted murder is still a crime, but as a child, she shall simply be lectured and taught the proper path. Phelenia will now face judgment for three crimes. Though it may not be worth much, you have my condolences for the pain she has caused you and your family.” There was emotion in her voice then, and a look of understanding in her eyes as she listened to Chailiss.
”Nisshi is dead, Homura. She cannot attend a trial. Her soul is elsewhere. Nor can she be lectured or taught the proper path. Her actions were born out of revenge for the loss of a friend and she, as much as I hate to admit it, paid the ultimate price. Let the dead rest.” he said in a quiet whisper.
“Hmm… I apologize, as I apparently was not clear. She will be attending the trial. That is the truth. I will speak with our brother, Voi, about the fate of her soul, as that is his aspect. Whatever ultimate price you speak of, it is nonsense. There was only theft. Phelenia stole a life that did not belong to her. I digress, if it pains you, we may move on to the second reason for why I called you here?” Homura replied, unfazed and stern once more. Her eyes burned like shimmering rubies in the light of the Eternal Fire, and they were not the eyes of a mortal that did not understand the meaning of their existence. They were the eyes of one that had stared into the blazing sun without being blinded, and saw its light.
Chailiss stared blankly back at her, unfazed. ”So wise is the judge of the Creator. Indifferent, as any good judge should be.” He said coldly, giving her another slight bow. ”I was not aware of Voi or his aspect. I will be most curious to see what he says. It does give me hope… Now, what is that reason?”
“The second reason: I wish to share information. I have encountered a few of our other siblings and ascertained their aspects and alignments. There are our brothers; Voi the God of Souls, Voligan the God of Earth, Iqelis the God of Doom, Jiugui the God of Wine, Apostate the God of Defiance, and Tuku the God of the Hunt. There are our sisters, Zenia the Goddess of Revelry, Yudaiel the Goddess of Prescience, and Sala the Goddess of Salt. I have yet to meet Yoliyachicoztl the Goddess of Heat, or Astus, Avros, and Ruina; of unknown aspects. I do not know how many other deities exist in our pantheon, but our allies are few and two of us have been slain by our own hands. What helpful information do you possess, brother?” Homura asked.
”Yoliyachicoztl is an ally, I have not met any others save Zenia. This is all I know, besides the stench of death and decay in the north. If it is another God, I have not found their identity.” Chailiss said absentmindedly.
“Hmm… Voi, Voligan, Zenia, and Apostate have agreed to protect life. I am uncertain regarding Jiugui, Tuku, and Sala. Iqelis and Phelenia advocate death and despair, and Yudaiel has a violent temperament. I would not be surprised if she is willing to sacrifice many lives in order to achieve her goals. I wish to discuss the nature of the role our Lord has given you. I do not intend to enforce you into obedience, but we must cooperate. I ask that you grant me permission to visit the north, so that I may help those that are suffering there. Know that I do not desire to intrude upon your domain, and will inform you of my every intention while I am there. Please, brother.” Unlike the two deities that easily stood and faced each other while they talked, the six champions found that attempting to remain still and standing was rather arduous. They silently bowed and stepped back to allow the two deities to continue their conversation without an audience.
”Tell me one thing. How would you help those suffering?” he asked, looking her in the eye.
Homura gestured for him to follow her outside of the keep, and answered while she walked. “I must inform our brother, Jiugui, that he is no longer considered the one that holds jurisdiction over the Bjork. That is now your responsibility. Then I will provide life with the resources it requires to sustain itself. This cycle of cannibalism ends now, and our children will no longer have to eat each other to stay alive. I will teach them the arts, communication, and how to protect themselves from evil. To do this, I need to establish an embassy, where I can manage the details of the operation, and exert efforts into restoring peace. Whatever nefarious plan you thought I would conjure, it will not happen. I advocate sacred change, and spiritual growth. Perfection is not a word I employ in my vocabulary. It sounds too similar to perversion. Does this explanation suffice?”
Chailiss looked off into the distance now. ”And what if the denizens of the north do not want your aid? Would you become a tyrant and enforce such change? Would you kill those that disagree with you?” he sighed. ”I never thought you nefarious. You just think so differently than any others when it comes to how mortals should be and act. You gifted humans to many gods, and yet you were disappointed when you learned how they would be living and cannibalizing, as you say. Why give them at all if it pains you? I simply cannot wrap my mind around you or your thoughts. You wield so much power now Homura, as Judge, to any of we gods would listen to you- Your words will carry weight.”
She closed her eyes and contemplated his words, letting their lingering silence be overwhelmed by the song of the night. The sea beyond the wall with its waves washing along the shore, and the sky filled with the whispers of the wind. She listened to its voice as well, and felt the weight of the world.
“I am not infallible. I have made mistakes, and I will make many more, but that is why we must cooperate. I will not heed only one voice, I will hear all of the desperate pleas, the furious curses, the hopeful prayers, and the unheard cries of lost children. I would seek wisdom before making any decision. I… I understand your apprehension. I am also concerned. I originally thought that all of our siblings would be worthy of the gifts I shared, but I was wrong. I did not want this power, and it means nothing if I ultimately fail. Know that I cannot lie, and my previous words spoken on those cold shores still hold true. If you think I am a threat to life, do what you believe is right.” Homura looked at one of her hands, both were hidden beneath scarlet wraps, and she clenched her fist with a mix of sorrow and frustration. Her gaze turned to Chailiss, as she presented him with the decision of her fate once more.
He stepped forth and laid a hand upon her shoulder. ”My heart could not bear the weight of more death, and to take away your daughter's Mother. I would be no worse than Phelenia or Iqelis.” He let his hand drop and looked back out at the expanse. ”The fact you yourself are concerned speaks volumes. Even the noblest of intentions can be led astray and down into a darker path. I would hope clarity and reason would preserve if it ever comes to that. You may have access to the north, as a sign of good faith between us. Only know that if your methods become a detriment to the peoples of the north, then you will have to go. And I would prefer to have a voice within whatever council or body you elect to run your embassy.” he rubbed his temple and looked back at the smaller Goddess. ”I am putting a lot of trust within you, Homura. The North has suffered enough from those wanting to teach lessons without giving anyone a choice. Do better.”
Homura smiled slightly, and her relief was apparent. “Thank you, brother. I will endeavor to help those in need, and will only act to guide them, not control them.” As she spoke, she revealed a shiny stone in her hand, shimmering like the moon in the night sky. She held out the stone to him.
“I hope I can help you reunite with your family, as you have helped me with mine. This stone is a promise of aid from our sister, Yudaiel, and she will know how to find Voi. I will give you this, and you can call upon her to help you. I must speak with our other siblings, but we should reconvene either here or in the North after you have spoken with Voi, and I have met with those that will work with us. You can always call out to me, and I will come as soon as I can.”
He looked upon the stone, thoughts twirling and running in his head. But then he shook his head. ”That was intended for you, Homura.” He gave her a small smile. ”I thank you regardless. I will meet this Yudaiel in time, for if what you say is true about her, I do not want to be indebted to such a Goddess. As for Voi, now that I know he exists It is only a matter of time before I find him. There are strange happenings in the North, perhaps it all ties together.”
“So be it. Finally, my third reason for summoning you has been partially handled. You have a weapon to defend yourself with now, but I wish to offer some of my own power to further increase its potency. Will you accept this offer?” Homura replied, and then asked as she gestured to the cold medallion around his neck.
Chailiss clutched the medallion and felt its power thrum. ”I am not sure… It is a dangerous artifact, Homura. Forged of destruction and violence. Yet my soul is wary of the times yet to come. If Phelenia ever returns I have a feeling she will not be so ill prepared as last time. She will want revenge, for one as misguided and cruel as she cannot change for the better.” The medallion came loose around his neck and he clutched it by the straps, showing it to Homura before nodding.
“For now, we must be ready to defend ourselves, but I hope for a future where peace and prosperity has been established, and all among the pantheon work together to create wondrous beauty. This fortress was forged from the same calamity that echoes in this relic, but such terrible violence… I pray it will forever remain a bitter memory.” Her hand reached out, and began to pulse with divine power, radiating celestial light that transformed into glowing rivers which swam towards the artifact, then pierced it. Time slowed, as it seemed her actions had released the ferocious storm held within and powerful gales of frost spread in all directions, but as the destruction spread, the air that had been around them did not stir, and the land was not shook or torn asunder. The storm within the artifact did not touch the world, as though it were only an illusion.
“Hmm… I do not have enough power to complete my work, but I think you will appreciate what I have done. Your weapon is dangerous, but only to those that you deem an enemy. Its strength and rage will not harm the innocent any longer.” Homura explained, as what little of her remaining power receded back into her.
”That will suffice. Thank you.” Chailiss said, and placed it back around his neck. ”Was there anything else you wished to discuss?”
“Nothing necessary. I wished we had the time to share ideas and create a better world together, but I am afraid that is not an option. We must rush to those that suffer even now, since that is our duty as the Divine. I wish you good fortune on your journey, brother. We will need it.” She answered, peering back into the warm confines of the keep where her champions waited, then her attention turned to the west where the presence of another god reached her senses.
“Iqelis is here. You should take your leave, and find Voi. Find your missing daughter. We will meet again, Lord of Winter. It brings me joy that this farewell ends with hope instead of anger.” The red goddess continued, holding her spear tightly as she prepared for the arrival of Doom.
”I would stay and help you but I know this is not my place for now. So I shall go. But.. Ah, I am not without gifts of my own before I leave.” From his hands came a swirling of mist that grew larger and larger. He held it up into the sky as she spoke and it formed, ”Your champions are always telling me they wish to visit the North. I know not how you will feel about this gift, Homura, but do not judge it so harshly as you would others. Even young women need time away from home.” Before them came a sleek and narrow boat of dark pine, oak and cherry. Large enough to fit five or so humans comfortably, wide enough for only two to sit side by side but with room for cargo more at the narrower front. A layer of frost began to cover the hull and from the underside came flurries. At the back there was a rudder and a spot for someone to steer the ship by controlling it. When it was completed he looked towards the interior of the keep and shouted, ”Daughters of Honor! Come and visit me!” before he turned to Homura, winked and then dissipated into a flurry of snowflakes that formed into his divine form and vanished into the night.
They emerged from their home, and saw the ship that was near Homura. Their eyes widened, and they looked at the snow swirling in the air left in the wake of the Winter Lord’s departure, and their eyes alighted with even greater wonder. Homura merely shook her head with a content sigh. “So the cold has a sense of humor… Chailiss has given you all a gift. Do not break it while I go on a walk.” She said, as her champions all bowed to her before loudly calling out to the heavens in hopes that he may hear. “Thank you, uncle!”
-On the night of Chailiss Eve, the God of the Cold visits Keltra. -He meets with the Heralds of Honor, and together they share a moment of grief, love, and hope. -Homura returns to Keltra, and finds Chailiss there. She explains her reasons for calling him to the red fortress. -They share information, figure out their roles, plan for the future, and make progress towards resolving their previous dispute. -Homura senses the arrival of another god, and Chailiss begins his departure, but she offers him a gift, and he gives one in return. -Merry Christmas!
Cycle 3 Homura's current Vigor total: 2. Vigor spent: 2 + 1. 3 Vigor spent to empower the Box of Calamity: Serenity - The wrath of the storm when the artifact is used no longer damages any life and the terrain unless Chailiss wills it. Remaining Vigor: 0.
Chailiss Starting 4 Vigor
-3 To create an Artifact boat. Name Pending. Can hover and fly through the air at very fast speeds, whilst keeping those sitting inside safe and secure (Also able to talk and move about as if they were in a warm room.) As well as it being very durable.
-1 Vigor remaining.
Courage, Kindness, Fear, Curiosity, Wanderer, and Pride gain 3 Spirit. (+1 Minimum, +1 Collab, +1 Medium)
Viho flew for a long time, for his mission was by divine decree and nothing would stop him from reaching his goal. He had to find his Lord, deliver Homura’s message. Though, he did find it embarrassing to be already flying back to the North. He hadn’t even been gone for that long. What would his Lord think of that? What would Winter think of all of this? Would he even want to leave the North to visit Keltra?
This Iqelis… The name was foul even thinking it. But he was their enemy? He had slain a fellow deity? All life was under threat? And the Green Murder! The one who had slain the bjork and defiled the north with innocent blood. Perhaps his maker would like to learn the truth and Homura could provide assistance in combating such a vile god.
So Viho flew faster than he had ever flown before. For this was a message that could not wait to be told. It was paramount and he had to do this. All by himself, no divine aid this time. It was true, after all, despite Homura readily wanting to give him a gift- Viho did not think himself worthy enough of one. WIthout Chailiss, Fear would have died, and Viho would have delivered a corpse. The mere thought of such a thing sent shivers down his flight feathers.
He was glad Fear was alright, and even happier she had been able to reunite with her sisters. Even Courage! What a name, a name that provided relief to his aching heart. He had thought her dead for sure. It would have been a terrible failure on his part, unable to see her down in the depths. He had to be better, stronger, if he was ever going to be worthy.
So he flew.
Over the land with its trees, grass, and hills. With its fresh smells and vivid scenes. Then over the ocean, soaring high up above as the great blue shimmered below him. It rolled and flowed and smelled of salty brine. The currents were good to him and propelled him ever on.
When a storm threatened to impede his progress, he took no chances, and flew high up above. He crested the storm and was meeted with the eerie quiet. The stars and moon were his only companions and the distant rumble of the storm began to lull him to sleep. It was so peaceful up there. Away from the world and all of it’s problems.
Eventually the sun began to rise upon the distant horizon, painting him in early morning light. The sky became one of color. White to yellows into faint oranges and deep purple melding into blue. It took his breath away but his only complaint was that it lacked any red.
But there was green amidst the blue, like a hazy image.
He was close to home.
Upon entering the north he felt his maker’s presence and went to it. It led him to the east, and the great forested region of pine and water. Things did not look out of the ordinary but why had his Lord not answered his prayers? He soon found the answer.
A great swathe of land had been destroyed. Like someone had tunneled into the earth upon the surface in long straight lines.
He found his Lord where the destruction ended. He began to speak but stopped when he saw the tell tale signs of battle and the utter state of his maker. Chailiss knelt on both knees, staring at the dirt beneath him. His chest bore terrible scars and that box sat beside him.
Viho landed with silent feet before him and gave a bow. He waited and he kept waiting but Chailiss never spoke. Anticipation welled up inside him and it forced the great owl into action. He looked up and spoke, “My Lord, what has happened here? Are you alright?”
He waited for what felt like an age for a response and when it finally felt as if he would have to speak again, Chailiss finally stirred.
”Never take for granted the life that surrounds you, Viho. It is fleeting.” His voice was raw.
“My Lord…”
”Death will come to us all, either when we are ready or not.” He looked up at Viho then. There were no tears in his weary eyes, just a mask of cold upon his face. ”Why have you returned, my champion?”
“I…” Viho took in a breath. “I found the Lady and spoke to her. Now I bring a message from Homura to you, my Lord. The Goddess of Honor gave me this quest, after I delivered Fear to her safe and well. Your assistance saved her life and for that I am thankful.” He bowed.
Chailiss gave a nod. ”What does the Lady wish of me?”
“She wishes to speak to you. She says she has found a means to uncover the identity of the Green Murder and will share it with you. Or if you have already found out, she said she will assist you in handling it.”
”I’m sure you saw the land with your eyes, Viho. Though I never found out her name… We are well acquainted, the Green Murder and I. The Goddess of Honor could not help me with this then. It remains to be seen if she does anything about it at all.” The god sighed. ”Anything else?”
“Yes. There is another matter she wishes to convene with you on, though I do not know what. You have been invited to her keep, Keltra. Though she may not be there when you arrive, I was told one of her heralds, Pride, would fill you in on the topic.” Viho looked upon his maker, apprehensive about what he had to say next. Something had happened to his Lord, something terrible. More bad news… It could worsen everything.
[color=deepskyblue]”I suppose that’s only fair. On account that I do not wish her in my own lands. Maybe that can change… We will need all the allies we can find. There’s no use in petty squabbles. But a journey to this Keltra? I have not left this land since… I’ve never stepped foot on another continent. Who would watch over? Who would ensure this does not happen again? Can I risk it?” he seemed to ask those questions aloud to himself.
“My Lord… There is more. The Lady Homura also wishes to inform you that Iqelis is an enemy. He… He slew a fellow deity and wishes to destroy all life. She said, be weary of the eye that weeps the tears of time, with sinful claws stained by god blood. I am sorry, I did not wish to be the bearer of bad news but the message is complete.” Viho said in a quiet voice.
”Death… Without it we would know nothing. With it, fear. Thank you Viho. You have done well.” Chailiss rose to his feet. He steadied himself. ”I shall go to Keltra to see Homura or this Pride of hers. I will leave the North unguarded for a time. I’m sure something terrible will happen, as is this place’s constant luck.” he sounded defeated.
“No! No my Lord. Please, I shall stay and defend it!” Viho exclaimed with a puff of his own pride. He would not let the North be defiled by those that sought to undue everything his maker had created!
”No.” Chailiss stated. ”You are needed elsewhere.”
He was crushed in an instant. “My Lord? Where else could I be needed if not in the defense of my home? Why would you send me away? Why? Wh-”
”I won’t lose another!” The god shouted, silencing Viho. What did he mean another? What did he… It was a sudden sinking feeling. There was a reason he found his creator in such a state, wasn’t there? If he had lost a fight, his condition would warrant more than a scratch.
“What ha-”
Chailiss shook his head. ”I have not the heart to speak more than this, Viho; My daughter, your sibling, died fighting the Green Murder. And a part of me with her.”
The news struck him in the face. His sibling? One that he had never met, one he would have liked to have met- gone. He stumbled back. “I… Is there nothing we can… Surely there must be something we can do?”
The God shook his head again and shut his eyes. ”I will not lose another champion. I will not lose you, Viho. Anything that befalls the north, shall be equally returned. Forever more.” He opened his eyes and Viho felt as if they were piercing his soul.
”Promise me that you won’t seek vengeance. Nor revenge. You are a wanderer, an explorer. Not a killer. I will deal with my Kin with the help of my Kin. Promise me, Viho.”
Viho wanted to scream, wanted to lash out and shout out his grief but the Owl held his tongue. Begrudgingly, he yielded. “I promise.” No matter how much he thought otherwise, no matter how much he wanted to make someone pay- His Lord was right. He was an explorer and a wanderer.
”Good, Viho. Now, listen close. You are to seek out Zenia. Tell her I am in need of… Good company and aid. Journey to the obelisk in the North, there you will find where she is through her own eyes.” He gave a small smile to him. ”Do this for me Viho. Fly, fly and be free.” He touched Viho’s chest and departed in him the location of the obelisk and Viho knew he too, took the location of Keltra before he let go.
“As you wish, my Lord.” Viho turned and outstretched his wings. He flapped them but then looked back at his creator. “I am sorry for her loss, father.”
Viho then beat his wings and carried himself into the sky, flying further north.
Chailiss watched him go and clutched at his heart.
”I am too.”
Viho ruminates on the message of Homura. He travels fast to the North, the land and sea below him a pretty blur. He travels high up into the sky, where the stars kiss the Galbar and he finds peace so up above. But his journey continues on and he finds the North as he left it, but… The tell tale signs of battle let me see something amiss. He finds Chailiss, well, he finds him all depressed and doesn’t glean much as he tells Homura’s story. Chailiss eventually slips that Viho’s sibling was killed by the Green Murder. This sends him into rage but he tempers himself for he has another task. As Chailiss will go to Keltra, Viho will seek out Zenia.
Their flight was both short and long. Long in the sense that only the sun dipping into the horizon and the great moon rising could only convey. Short in the sense that Viho did not wish it to end. He was built to wander, to explore and learn. That would often be a lonely task, one not suited for any who could not fly, or in the case, ride. He enjoyed the young woman’s companionship, even if they hardly knew each other and even if it was ultimately her decision on where she wanted to go. Viho felt as if she were a fledgling that needed protection. A small girl, modeled after a Goddess, who needed protecting? It was a funny thought. He had saved her, yes, and maybe she needed to get a better footing on her limits, but Viho had the feeling that she didn’t actually need any protection. She had untapped potential, stifled by only a name. Why had her maker named her Fear? Why? When she showed as much courage as the one she idealized.
Was it fear that had compelled her to chase after her kin? Was it pressure? Was it Courage or courage? These questions had answers but none he could perceive.
He had come to terms that such events happen for a reason. He was meant to happen upon her when he did and save her. Viho was struggling with the idea of a goodbye and it hadn’t even happened yet. As the two chatted and talked as he flew, a bond began to form. At least to him. Fear was a kind soul, after all. He hoped the trauma of the sea would not leave any lasting blights upon her soul. For she did not deserve it. Eventually, as they crested red forests and blushed mountains, it dawned upon him. A life met, needed not end in goodbyes when the time came to depart but with a promise to meet again. Therefore, a goodbye was not needed because it wasn’t truly a goodbye. Still, doubt crept in as they neared Keltra. Viho thought it odd to feel such things. Yet he knew it was just something else to learn.
So they flew over lake and stream, red plain and white tree until at least the beacon that was Keltra came into his view. Red walls that reflected the sun rose with a splendor he had not yet seen in that world. It was magnificent, as it was haunting. Like a lone perch sat atop a mountain. Still, he could only find himself in awe at the sheer size of it.
“You did not tell me your home was such a jewel, Fear.” He said to the small passenger upon his back. She seemed to consider his words for a while, but in truth it was only a brief moment.
“All homes are such beautiful jewels for those that have a home to return to. I’m… glad you like it.” She climbed further up her companion’s back to gain a better view of the immense citadel, and saw something she found amiss. “There should be two more colossi.” She warned Viho, pointing to the massive metallic being standing in the red sea nearby.
Though he could not see her pointing, Viho spotted what she was talking about. So caught up in the keep, he had failed to notice the titanic creature that stood within the sea. “There’s… There’s two more of those titans?” He said with awe in his voice. “I did not know anything could grow so big.”
“The colossi have always been with us… since the day I was born… Were the other two left behind because Courage and I… weren’t there to direct them?” Fear hesitantly asked herself, feeling guilty upon realizing that Kindness would obviously have not been able to efficiently control all three colossi by herself.
The lone colossus was an ill omen that elicited a painful lurch in her heart, and the anxious champion found herself dreading to face what she may find in the great fortress. It was a fiery jewel, shining brilliantly, and she was a failure that had wandered astray and would probably be unwanted in the end. The otherworldly light of Daybringer that poured forth from the keep itself indicated that the Goddess of Honor must be there, Fear observed as well, wondering what her Maker would say upon seeing her.
“It should be safe to land anywhere within the walls.” She said, clinging desperately to the small hope that she was wrong, and the other colossi were simply elsewhere. She wanted to have faith that Courage had survived, and the ones that had been stolen were now recovered. It was a faint hope she held, but it was all she had.
“Worry not Fear, I am sure there is an explanation. Come now, let us meet your maker.” Viho said on the final approach. There was a warmth here, one he was not all that fond of, but he kept his tongue in his beak for that one. Eventually he landed within an open courtyard, extending his wing down so that Fear could descend.
Standing at one of the many entrances into the keep were three more beings identical in appearance to Fear, and as the anxious champion climbed down, upon the sight of those waiting for the duo, she suddenly stood still.
With a burst of speed, two of the clones charged Viho and Fear, with joyous expressions on their faces. Neither had weapons, and the owl champion could see both had the blue amulets gifted by Chailiss that Fear also wore.
They crashed into the frozen Fear, together toppling her, and the relief all three of them exuded as they embraced each other filled the air like liquid laughter. One of them spoke, with a voice similar to Fear’s, but more lively and wild. “You’re back! You’re alive, and you’re here. I didn’t mean for you to get lost!” She said, while hugging the overwhelmed girl.
“Fear, are you alright? What happened to you?” The other one asked, her voice soft and quiet, but still clear among the louder one, and the fumbling for words that came from Fear.
The owl champion could see the third doppelganger approach him, but she moved with an otherworldly grace that denoted her as one of the Divine. The Goddess of Honor. She stood before him, wielding a golden spear, and with a cryptic expression. “Welcome to Keltra. I am Homura. You have returned someone dear to me, and for this I am very grateful. What is your name, child of Chailiss?” She asked.
Viho dipped his head low at the divine. “Lady Homura, it is a privilege. I am Viho, the wandering owl and I bring a message from my Lord.” He cleared his throat still bowing. “Chailiss has heard the whims of the Monarch and will aid you despite any past differences, if the Lady wishes.”
“You may arise, Viho. It is a pleasure to speak with you, the savior of one of my heralds. I have heard the edict of our Lord, and I am glad my brother has paid heed to his call. You have done more than I could ever ask.” Homura replied, her voice becoming more gentle as she spoke.
Fear had been brought back to her feet, answering her sister’s questions, and describing her journey from the small rock out at sea, to soaring through the sky with Viho. She gestured to the owl champion and introduced her sisters. “Viho, this is Courage and Kindness, the ones I told you about. Curiosity and Wanderer should be somewhere around as well.”
Viho rose, giving a nod to Homura before peering down upon the three heralds. A wave of relief came over him at the sight of the one he thought truly lost; Courage. To know she had survived and three were united again did him well. Fear would be alright now. In time she would heal well.
They all looked so alike, basically copies of their Maker, what he could only assume were different personalities. Perhaps of the Goddess herself? He gave a bow to Courage and Kindness. There was just the subtle difference of their expressions and the way they carried themselves that made it somewhat easier to identify which one was which.
"Well met Courage, Kindness. It is good to see you all reunited." He looked to Courage. "It does my soul good to see you standing here. Had I known there was another in the sea… I would have tried..." He shook his head, "It matters not anymore. But pray tell, how did you come to be here before us? I am most curious."
“Well, I was saved by another goddess, ya. She brought me here, and spoke with our Maker, then took some humans and left. I was going to come back for ya actually. I had a plan and everything.” Courage explained, flushed with embarrassment and joy. “You have my thanks, Viho!” She added before swiftly bowing respectfully.
“I cannot think of a way for us to return the feelings of gratitude you have given us, please forgive me.” Kindness said, bowing beside her sister. Her voice was soothing, but too quiet, like an unheard whisper uttered within a storm. Yet it was heard nonetheless.
When both had arisen, Fear had awkwardly patted them on their shoulders, and nervously laughed while looking at the owl champion. “This is my family. Um… I hope you don’t think we’re too strange.” She said with a smile, feeling stronger and braver beside her two sisters now.
“Viho, Champion of Chailiss, how can I properly reward you for your acts of heroism? You may ask for whatever you desire, and if it is within my power, I shall make it happen.” The Goddess of Honor proclaimed, and the golden spear she held began radiating celestial light across the field, though the effect was quite subtle. It caused the stone all around to faintly shimmer and brighten, like the sea as it catches the light of the great sun.
It took him by surprise, the offer of the Goddess. He did not know nor could he think of anything that he wanted or needed. But would it be inappropriate to deny the Goddess? He racked his thoughts for a time coming to his conclusion. He looked upon the small Goddess, with such fearsome strength and beauty and he spoke.
"My Lady, I am honored by this. But I was not the only one who helped Fear in her time of need. I prayed to my Lord and he answered by ensuring the young maiden would survive. Besides, what I did, any could do in the given circumstances. It does not feel right to ask for anything in return for my act. Knowing well enough that both your heralds survived is a gift all on its own." He said, dipping his head once more.
“Hmm… so be it. I will remember your words, Viho, and never forget what you have done here. Whether or not it was your intention, you have achieved symbolic immortality, as the first of heroes to rise among our creations. Would you like to rest, or are you ready to answer the call to service once more?” She spoke with the authority of the Divine, her speech imbued with sacred truth and great power. Visions of what she meant were woven into her words, the weight of being worshiped, the burden of defying both death and despair. Homura did not mention the terrible irony of a noble hero preserving the one called Fear, as such would be cruel.
Viho blinked in surprise. What did the Goddess need of him? Well, there was only one way to find out. He stood a little straighter and fluffed his wings. "I am always at the service of Goddesses, Gods and maidens. What would the Lady ask of me?"
“I must speak with my brother. Seek out your Lord, and carry these words to him: I have found a way to uncover the identity of the Green Murder, and shall share this gift with him. If he has already found the answer he seeks, then I will come and assist him with handling the situation. Secondly, I would ask that he come and visit Keltra, as there is something we must convene on, however I may not be present. Pride can properly explain on my behalf. Lastly, inform him that Iqelis is our enemy. He has slain a fellow deity, and seeks annihilation of all life. Be weary of the eye that weeps the tears of time, with sinful claws stained by god-blood. Carry these words, Viho, and may fortune favor the bold. If there is anything I can offer that will assist you with this task, then let me know.”
Homura allowed herself to smile at the sight of the owl champion, towering tall with valor and virtue, an apt example of an honorable servant. Her champions had stepped back, and moved to stand behind her. It was strange and otherworldly, seeing four identical figures, standing before him. The three mortals behind the goddess looked at him with wonder and awe in their eyes.
He felt a sense of pride as they all looked to him and then a weight upon his wings. He could easily accomplish this task but the news itself was unsettling. Still, it was also vital. He gave a nod and then said, "I shall do as you ask my Lady. Where once I prayed to my lord I can do so again." And so he shut his eyes and prayed to his lord, asking for an audience but Chailiss did not answer. Again he asked with urgency but nothing happened. There was no presence in his mind. Nothing.
He opened an eye and squinted at them with an embarrassed chuckle. "Perhaps it will not be so easy as last time." He opened his other eye and relaxed. "I shall fly post haste to deliver this message, my Lady. If I am successful, you shall know."
Fear ran forward and leapt onto his feathery chest. “I’m going to miss you. We’ll meet again, I hope... This isn’t goodbye forever.” She said, her voice muffled by his plumage, and the tears in her eye contrasted by the happy smile she wore. She did not want to let go, but could not prevent him from leaving either.
Homura simply nodded, but remained still and silent, her presence akin to a steadfast statue standing vigilant over the world and its people. Her earlier words faintly echoed in the air, and ushered her heralds towards a respectful farewell for Viho. Courage and Kindness bowed once more, and offered silent prayers for the champion of Chailiss.
His earlier thoughts came back to him. They had reached that moment he had come to dread. Suddenly Homura's offers seemed enticing. Why not ask for Fear to accompany him? But the thought was born of selfishness. She was happy here with her sisters and so she would remain so. He covered the small champion with a wing and looked down to her. "Do not say goodbye, Fear. Goodbyes are forever." He cooed. "We shall meet again and soar across the land." He looked to the other two champions. "Courage, Kindness. Take care of each other and no swimming." His eyes crinkled in a smile as he unfurled his wings from Fear and the girl returned to her sisters.
Then Viho looked to Homura and dipped his head once more in a bow. "My Lady…" He said as a goodbye before looking up at the sky and taking off. The journey home had not been one he thought he would undertake so soon but it was necessary.
So to the north he went.
-Viho and Fear are flying across the land of Keltra when they finally reach the fortress. Fear has been brought home.
-They enter, and are greeted by Homura and two of her champions. Viho introduces himself after being welcomed.
-Homura provides Viho with a task to deliver a message to Chailiss, which the owl champion accepts.
-Viho bids farewell to the goddess and her champions, telling Fear that they will meet again, before he sets out and flies towards the north.
Homura did not spend any Vigor.
Viho gains 8 Spirit. (+1, +1 Collab, +1 Main character, +1 Post length, +4 for completing personal quest)
Courage, Kindness, and Fear gain 3 Spirit. (+1, +1 Collab, +1 Post length)
“Hold it steady. Hold. Almost… Just a little longer.”
“My arms are growing tired and my back aches.”
“Shhhsh! It’s good for you, builds strength in those scrawny arms!”
“I don’t need strength when I have the flame. None of us do.”
“Then shall I have someone fetch you an arm rest?”
“I don’t nee-”
“Stop! We are done!”
They hovered around the smoldering pit, with sweat upon their brows and exhaustion coming in deep breaths but they still had smiles on their dirty faces. With a wooden tool they uncovered the kindled logs, now blackened and charred, to reveal clay balls the size of their palms. Carefully they removed the now fired clay and broke them apart to reveal a metallic glint.
Fragments of reddish brown stared back up at them. There were cheers and pats on the back, for their work had been successful! All of the fragments were then carefully collected, as if the Mother Spirit herself had given them, and placed into a large clay pot, for ease of travel. They still needed to be cleaned in the water for any lingering impurities before being further worked upon.
"Take this copper to the Firecharmer after you have cleaned it, Shysie."
Shysie, a newcomer learning their ways, nodded. "It will be done, Keeper Alona." She wandered off with two other acolytes, past the discarded rock piles and the mounds of sticks kept for burning. Then they vanished down the wooded path that led to the river. Alona turned back to her pit and said a prayer to the Great Spirit of Fire, Yoli.
She was joined by the other Keepers and their voices became gospel. "We thank the gift of fire, for its wisdom and strength. We thank the great Goddess of the flame and her kindled daughter. For without them we are nothing. For without them we are those who would let the flame burn out in our apathy. Never again. The flame shall burn eternal, even when we are ash." Once the Keeper's were done with their prayer, they went their separate ways. The metal bringing was over for now until more of the green stone was brought back. The sun still lingered lazily in the sky, for it was still young and not yet tired enough to dip. That meant there was much to do at the Sight of the First Sin still, for their charge and home was always growing.
Two twisting lines of orange fire collided with one another followed by a bright burst and the roar of dying flames. When the air cleared, two Keepers, wearing nothing but a cloth around their waists, stared at one another. One had her auburn hair in two braids, while the other’s black hair hung loose down her back. Their stances were opposed and then the fire came. They dueled one another as a crowd of acolytes and passerbys stopped to watch. Moving and feeling the fire they conjured, whipping and throwing it at their opponent.
To strengthen one’s flame was the highest of goals, to burn the brightest, strongest and longest. Such was the mark of a Firecharmer to be, when she had no more equals or betters. So dueling was encouraged, a mock fight to showcase one's durability in battle. One could only win when the other, either too exhausted or beaten, yielded.
Neither had done so yet, but the signs were beginning.
Keeper Alona, tired from her morning of work, wore her hair up as she watched her sister’s spar. The Sacred Flame’s gifts were on full display. Where one fire leaped forth the opponent would cancel it out with their own. They moved like water but fought like a raging fire. Determined, strong and fierce. When it became evident that neither would yield but both were slowing, Alona stepped forth and ended it in a draw.
“You fought well and were worthy of the spirits but more practice is needed to overcome another. Keep at it and may the Flame protect.” She said in a more regal voice. As an original Keeper, she had more perks then the others and more control of her flame. “The rest of you, get back to training!”
In a flurry, the acolytes grabbed their spears and found partners, while Keepers watched them practice. They had grown large and still were growing as more and more displaced women came back to the flame. It was no large band by any means but it was a tribe.
Shysie, looking quite distraught, came walking by and Alona followed.
“Shysie?” She called her but she gave no answer. “Shysie!” She said again, grabbing the girl’s forearm. Shysie wrenched away and Alona felt a painful tug on her arm before she let go.
“Keeper A-Alona!” she stammered. “Please forgive me, I do not know my own strength.” her expression, once distraught, became mortified.
Despite the pain, Alona shrugged it off and did a circle with her arm to show she was alright. “The Guiding Spirit’s gift is one some need to still get used to, do not worry. Now, where is your mind?”
“Keeper, my mind is here. I was just lost in thought.” She admitted with a frown. Alona nodded and put a hand on her shoulder.
“How does it fair?”
“It… It still sleeps. I am worried it will not wake. The Firecharmer says it will but… I do not wish to offend any spirit or sacred being. I must atone at the Sacred Flame before… Before it wakes.” Shysie confided.
Alona gave her a squeeze and smile. “Do not worry. Mistakes happen, even the Spirit’s know this. Now go speak to the flame and may you be untouched. Besides… If you did do true harm to it, then wouldn’t something bad have already happened?” She smirked.
Shysie’s eyes went wide and she began to turn away but stopped, “Keeper.” She hastily said before running off.
Alona laughed, what a silly girl.
The Firecharmer brandished her long knife. Against the blue flame of the Sacred Fire, the metal danced as if it were alive in the dark. It had not been so long ago that such a tool had been unknown. You could not find it now as it was, in the wild. Couldn't just pluck it from a bush or a stream. No… Only by the fire could it be forged from rock to metal to tool. She gave a quiet prayer to Yoli for the knowledge of such a gift.
"Chilali?" Came the voice of Alona. The woman blinked and looked up. Several pairs of eyes were still on her. She had gotten lost in the flame.
"I…" She straightened herself and put the knife away. "Sorry. The flame took me for a time. Now where were we? Discussing the sky dances again?"
Alona and some of the others nodded. "The topic will not die, Firecharmer. Many moons have passed and the sky, as Wapeka prophesied, has not danced. More and more of our people become disgruntled."
Chilali sighed. "And will they do anything about it? None can know if the sky will ever dance save for the Spirits and as much as we have asked for guidance on the matter, we hear nothing. This is not in our power to make happen. The Childan will have to learn to deal with it until there comes a time where either the sky dances or the women give in."
"Well…" Alona started. "Many of the women are giving in. Not because the men are forcing them but because they want to. I have seen… Small ones, children as they are called. Babies with tiny fingers and little laughs." She seemed to go distant with a smile on her face.
"Alona… You know we can't." Chilali frowned. They had all taken an oath to never lay again with a man. To have no small ones. No children. It was better that way.
"I know." Alona said quietly. "Some try to hide them from us, others are open about it. What is one to do? It is only becoming frowned upon around the lakes and plains. Others are holding out stronger. What are we to do?"
"We are to do nothing. Let it be as it is, if they want to restart the union between man and woman, so be it. Our task will always remain even with division and divides. A vast majority of our people still clutch on to the day of Lansa’s death. It will not be forgotten so easily, or forgiven. Only time will bloom open hearts. Now tell me of our findings." Chilali spoke and as Firecharmer, her words were heard and obeyed. As Yoli commanded it.
“Some nisshiniek were seen down by the bijjiork clan of Lowpine. I talked with a local shaman and he said they were preventing the young bijjiork there from drowning. The funny thing is, they are born natural swimmers and there was no danger at all.” Came a woman’s voice from down the fire. This received warm smiles and small laughs. The Nisshi were good spirits and were playful as they were mischievous. “Trade between the local tribes and the bijjiork is also going well. I have seen fine pebbles, and shells traded for nice sticks and other trinkets.” She then nodded.
"Tala, chosen of the Spirit Father, is rising in name. It is said she carries an axe of ice and is stronger than even our Father's gift was to all the other women. One man told me he saw her wrestle a bear and another said she fended off a wolf attack with only one hand, a babe swaddled in another." Beamed another Keeper.
"I would like to meet her, I think." Chilali smiled.
Than another Keeper spoke. “A spirit Guardian wandered through Tionda’s band, they fancy to call themselves the Tiondara Tribe now, but the Guardian began to teach them how to chisel stone. Perhaps we should send some acolytes to gather this sacred knowledge?”
“An apt suggestion.” Chilali mused. “Let it be done.”
“Yes Firecharmer.” the woman nodded. “ I must also say that the blood takers are on the rise again. We need to be careful, there are rumors that they might even be walking amongst us, wearing our skin.”
“Quite alarming. We shall tell our spearwomen and passing bands to be on the lookout. Perhaps we can come up with a way to prevent this, if the rumors are true? Either way, very disturbing.” Chilali looked around the fire and her eyes fell on Alona, who spoke next.
“The Dwami enclave at the foot of the Fern hills would like to meet you Firecharmer. When we showed them our knives, they seemed full of mirth. I wonder what we can learn from the people that live under the hill?” Alona beamed.
“Much I hope. If they have more copper we could keep forging. In the morning I shall go to them with a few Acolytes and Keeper Alona.” She looked up at the sky. “The moon rises, is there anything else?” she asked, looking back down.
“Firecharmer.” Everyone turned to the speaker, it was Tayen. Her face was lit up by the blue flame and she wore a mask of fear. She had just returned from the far northern tribes and her news was eagerly waited for.
“Speak Tayen.” Chilali gestured to her.
“Wapeka the Brave insists that her band be given exclusive rights to a hotspring she found. She does not wish to share with any other bands or the men’s bands. She said it was her gift from the Spirit Father and that any would have to take it from her. I tried reason but to no avail. She is not as afraid of the fire as others and her defiance turns them away from what we are trying to do. What do we do?” she asked timidly.
“Wapeka oversteps, she claims something that any could have. She must be reminded of our power!”
“No! Wapeka speaks for many, we could risk everything we have been striving for. Think of the flame, think of Lansa! Let her have her spring.”
“We cannot let this spring become an object of fixation. Open it for all or destroy it.”
“We cannot upset the Father Spirit by destroying his land over petty disputes!”
The talk quickly became a shouting match as the Keeper’s debated on what to do. Before anything else could be hastily said, Chilali raised a hand and they quieted down. They looked to her for guidance.
“Alona.” She took out her copper knife and held it to the smaller Keeper. “Take my knife and offer it to the Dwami leader in good faith. I shall go north and settle this dispute before it causes unneeded violence. I shall leave tomorrow with the acolytes ready for their final trial. Is there anything else we should know, Tayen?” Alona took the dagger and clutched it to her chest.
The woman nodded slow, her eyes enraptured by the blue flames. “There were whispers in the quiet of the night. They said it could smell the coming death, that it was hungry. That a wehniek had come. You must be careful Firecharmer. Women have been going missing, they say those without the strength are most likely to vanish. Something wicked is afoot.”
Chilali nodded. There was no worse enemy than the dread wehniek. Not even the likes of the men-who-stole-women could compare to such a creature. They had fought one before and it took nearly four Keepers to bring it down. Fire was it’s weakness but they were still dangerous.
“Go rest now Tayen, you have done well. Let us not speak of anything else this night. Let us be thankful to Yoli and our flame, that Tayen has returned unharmed and well. Let us rejoice for another day passed and a new dawn tomorrow. Our flame is eternal, sisters, always remember that.” Chilali stood and bid them all farewell. She lit a small flame in her hand as she walked in the dark to her fur tent.
Out of all the places to learn how to hunt, the most unlikely had been from the bijjiork shamans. They learned much from them and put their teachings to good work. Bone could be used on their spears, leather could be made from the skin and fur of animals and meat provided more food to fill their hungry bellies. Some women had even left their own bands to become one with the wilds and the Masked Spirit. And because the bijjiork built their own homes, the Childan had began to emulate what they saw. Perhaps some weren't the best but they provided shelter and all was good. As always, the bijjiork were a gift from the Great Spirits.
Chilali's tent was made from the hides of the wandering buffalo, stag, and furred ox. It was a simple thing but it was home, easily moveable and warm. Held up by long straight sticks and other woven branches. She passed a smoker on her way and grabbed a bit of drying meat before finally arriving at her hovel. Opening the flap, she spoke, “I hope you are hungry little one."
There in the darkness two blue eyes stared back at her. She lifted her flame higher to find something she had not been expecting.
Earlier that day an acolyte, Shysie, had managed to grab hold of a small bird. Unlike others of its kind, this one had white feathers and blue eyes. Eyes the same color as their Eternal Flame. Was it Lansa come to inspect them? A guide from the Spirit Father? Or something else entirely? It was brought to the Firecharmer when it was found out that the Acolyte had squeezed just a bit too hard. The poor bird had been knocked out cold and so, to prevent making any spirits unhappy, Chilali had decided it was best to care for the creature and ensure it would make it.
She had homed it in her tent ever since. Throughout the day she had made it comfortable but it had not awoken. Night had approached and the Keeper's gathered to discuss the newest sightings of the land.
Now there was a small pale child staring back at her. The girl clutched her right arm as she pressed herself into a corner besides Chilali’s furs. Her face was a mix of fear and anger and the poor thing wore nothing at all.
“Oh…” She managed. “By the flame…”
Our post opens with an excerpt on ancient copper melting with a twist. We are introduced (in a way) to the Flamekeepers, now a holy order formed by the Spirit of Heat, Yoli. We see a little bit into their lives and learn how things have gone since the First Sin, through a meeting of the Keepers that recount events and explain their current situation. Lots of interesting tidbits and some cameos as the teachings of the gods and bjork mingle and expand with one another. Chilali, the leader of the Keepers, decided to go North to talk to Wapeka and settle a dispute over a hot springs. The post ends upon Chilali going back to her tent, where a certain bird was recuperating over almost being crushed, (which is explained in the post) only to find a frightened, very small pale kid.
Yoli starting 14
-3 Holy Order; The Flamekeepers, an all woman order of Fire wielders, who keep the sacred and eternal flame of Lansa alight for all time. Besides their main goal of keeping the flame, they will also act as officials, leaders, guides, and voices of reason in the brimming lands of the Childan. -1 (discounted to 0 through Heat) Lansa’s Flame, the Sacred Fire, the Eternal Blaze. A monument to the first sin, now evermore a part of the land. These flames burn bright blue, cold or hot depending upon the weight of one's innocence. -1 (discounted to 0 through Heat) to teach the Flamekeepers the way of ancient copper forging
Ending = 11
The Flamekeepers
Starting = 0 +1 For significant role +1 For length
She flew upon a brisk wind, far and away from her people’s land. Many moons had passed since then, with many new events to mark the passing of time. Some were more difficult to process then others, whilst some had surely gone without notice. Still, she had been doing as her maker asked- exploring, being his eyes and ears in these Giant Lands. She had gone about naming it something else though. A better term for one whose eyes were always watching and learning.
The Land Betwixt.
She felt loneliness often, for she knew another was exploring as well. One just like her. She knew not where he was, only that she carried hope enough he would be alright. Worse, her people were far away too, across the land, further and further from her reach. So much land between, full of vales and mountains, meadows and prairies, with rivers, streams, and creeks. All manner of things, like the herds of horned beasts that turned the land into brown seas. Or the mass of the tusked ones that shook the earth as they walked. Once these things had amazed her but now they were only quick glances. A nod of acknowledgement.
For this is what their God had wanted from them. To explore and gain knowledge. What knowledge could one gain from seeing the same sights over and over again if they never changed? Perhaps she was foolish, or slacking and maybe she would even be punished for such actions but Mair found herself caring little as the days crept on.
She stopped at times to witness new events, like when she had stumbled upon a ghostly mist, which she had thought was a fading soul, taking the form of water to protect a young calf of some animal from a pack of hungry predators that stood as tall as she did. One blast of water from the lingering soul was enough to scatter the would-be attackers. Mair left with a sense of awe and could not wait to tell her twin. But it was that thought which sullied her mood once more and she flew on.
Once she came across a sight that still haunted her, sending shivers down her spine at the mere thought. It had been a dark night when she found a perch in a warm tree, she had learned to be careful as animals could not differentiate her being something more than another prey item. It did help that she was smaller and most left her alone, not wanting to expend too much energy trying to catch her. Her other issue was that she was stark white, even in raven form. Her feathers were not black and her eyes were not dark but a colorful blue, or so she had seen at a small pond once. The still water revealed much to her, both raven and Voiran form. She was disappointed by her appearance. Too dainty and small in a world of giants. Not much physicality with her form either, though she felt perfectly strong. Perhaps it had been what their maker had intended, or not, she just couldn’t question it all that much.
But back in that tree, she felt comfy enough to sleep. Until she heard something terrifying. Like the death throes of a crowned beast but twisted into something dark. There came a mighty crack and the thunderous crashing of footsteps beneath the trees. Down into the abyss below but ever curious, Mair investigated. What she found altered her perception of the Land Betwixt once again.
With quiet flaps she glided down to a lower branch and bore witness to a grisly sight. A creature was feasting upon a slain beast. It did not look like any predator she had ever seen before, for it was far too decayed and smelled like putrefying death. It looked like a crowned beast, with mighty antlers, but that was where the similarity ended. For it stood on two legs, like she did in her other form, and was far too lanky and misshapen. It ate and ate but it never stopped, even when the meat within it overflowed and crashed out onto the ground with sickly plops. It made her gag and that had been the moment of her mistake.
It looked at her within a split second, flaming green eyes like slits within the dark honing into her exact spot.
Mair froze.
A hundred thoughts entered her head at that moment. Could it tell what she was? Would it care? Would it come after her? But though it stared for several seconds, it must have lost interest in her and went back to its meal. After all, she was just a morsel compared to the beast it gorged itself upon.
Right?
She didn’t care to find out and left rather quickly, never looking back.
That had been weeks ago, and it still stuck out to her. Had it been some sort of dream or test by the maker? Had it been her imagination? Perhaps… Perhaps her twin had had a similar experience? Hopefully her people would be alright if that thing came prowling their way.
She could only hope.
Mair continued on, much of what she had seen recurring in different ways or shapes. Forests became plains, plains become forests or hills or mountains and ravines. Animals looked mostly the same as well, some variations, like large birds that she did fear or the ones that flew by her, with inquisitive expressions. Those ones always gave her a surprise but they were friendly enough. It wasn’t until she felt for certain she was thousands upon thousands of wingbeats from home did she finally meet something truly amazing.
Her people were not alone. For she had found another.
They were people, not pale like her but dark skinned and tall. So very tall. They had long black hair and different faces, much narrower with higher cheekbones. And they were all women, who fed sticks and logs to some demon of rage. The demon never attacked, nor did it seem very much alive, but to her eyes it was as if they kept it alive for warmth? She watched them for days, first from a distance but then she flew closer and closer.
Over that time something even more strange happened. Their demon of rage became blue, like her eyes and Mair felt a pull. She had never seen such opaline beauty before. But this proved to be a mistake on her part, for as she flew down upon a stick, so entranced by the pull, she did not see the woman before it was too late.
Two hands grabbed either side of her, massive hands. So large in fact, they surrounded her small body completely. She struggled and squaked, trying in vain to escape that heavy grip and then she tried to bite but she couldn’t move her head. Fear settled in as a crowd gathered and then everything went dark.
Wow, remember that champion that that one guy made and then he left? Well that would be Mair and she is on a mission by Voi to learn what’s in the giantlands. She sees many things and basically becomes really homesick but she keeps going on. Eventually she finds some Childan and gets snatched after she finds a really cool blue fire. What happens next… Well, just wait and see how it all comes together.
Mair starting = 2 (From her birth post)
+1 for post +1 for major char +1 for medium length
It knew nothing but pain. Burning, biting pain. It could not escape the agony. Not as it’s fur burned away to crispy skin, nor after blackened chunks of flesh ripped apart with each cruel step.
It screamed.
Then it tumbled over rock and stone, plunging into an abyss. It hit water cold, as a fiery malignant mass, extinguishing the flames in a blink. Yet the sensation of burning did not leave, like a thousand pinpricks of hungry hate.
It knew not how long it sank, or how long it drifted in the deep, but the colder it got, the better.
Despite the pain, it sensed death and another pain flared because it was hungry.
Ever hungry.
So it pressed on, leaving the husk of that burned thing behind in the water. It had tried before, oh so many times to leave, but the burning would have consumed it to ash. But now, it was free.
Never free.
It drifted in the water, the light of the sun becoming more and more apparent as the watery floor met it. All the time, the feeling of immolation never left its senses. Then it saw death. A small, scaly thing, decaying and preyed upon by smaller things as the water rushed by. It found more, so many more, with the smallest of orbs floating like the stars. Life growing within.
It cared for life. For life brought an end to the hunger, for a time. So it went into the dead fish. For fish were what skimmed in the waters, the most elusive sustenance. The blackened spirit was diminished in size and strength by the burning and thus it fit right at home within its newest host carcass.
It was a new purpose.
So it fed and gained strength.
This went on for many moons, as more and more life came hither to his maw. Dying in droves before he could even reach them. He swam with death for they were kin and he ate, never fulfilled. Then one day there came the rushing of water, like the power of that dread kin, and it swept him away.
Far, far away.
There was no point in fighting, yet it did so for it knew not what else to do but lash out in the face of that which stole its food.
The flood as it were, eventually began to subside and the fish that it was, continued on in search of prey with little direction in mind.
The water began to turn, growing wider and deeper as the taste changed. What was fresh grew with salt but it did not seem to mind until its form broke apart by those waters and thus the change was felt.
So it adapted, jumping from carcass to carcass. There were many in those waters. Some fresh, some dying, some already dead. Feasted upon by multitudes of fish, crustaceans and other creatures that swam in the depths where even it dared not to linger.
It drudged on, finding a way to survive in the endless blue by allowing itself to be eaten, before killing its host and inhabiting a fresh body. It saw many sights in those days and heard many voices, songs and hated melodies. There were giants that swam without care, larger than any it had ever seen that had walked upon land. They avoided it as his stench only brought danger time and time again. There were also vast multitudes of colorful rainbow-like fish that swarmed the waters. Despised adversaries, as they were not scared of its stench but hungered for it. Many a time it would flee only to be sucked apart and eaten. Each and every time its spirit would diminish in strength until it was forced to hide. A relief came when their presence faded and it was at last able to gain strength once more.
He grew stronger.
For all the wandering, the eating, the hungering and his battles- They brought about an awareness gleaned through a crucible of struggle. He hated that struggle. For it was ever a perpetual cycle, driven only by his unending hunger. A hunger brought by the one who cursed him.
The plague god.
He hated the plague god with all his spirit. He hated the kin who denied him his meal. He hated the morsel that burned him. He hated the colorfish that nibbled on his spirit, he hated the giants with their songs, he hated the dancing fish that he could not catch and he hated the ocean.
He was not a predator here. He was prey. It was time for a change.
Yet awareness was a fickle thing at that time, and it came and went. Lucidity depended upon the state of his hunger. For it was endless as that which he swam through. Either bountiful, splendid when teeming or fathomless and empty as his soul. Still his appetite begged him ever on.
Time went on.
Then there came a gradual change. Where the waters became shallow with warmth. By then he had grown accustomed to the churning temperatures of the sea but this felt better. He did not like the warm but his fel eyes did not spot flame, which even he dreaded and that was all that mattered. Corals came with small fish, unlike the giants where he came from. Rocky outcroppings gave way to sand and at long last, a verdant land splayed before him.
Ripe for the taking.
To shed his watery form, he would need a carcass. One more suited for land. The form he wore currently had been a large predator. Full of sharp teeth for rending flesh, with fins to cut through the water and a tail to propel ever on. Now decayed, twisted and blackened as he.
Though he was large, he swam through narrow channels, heading up intakes and rivers in this quest. He saw many creatures drinking and swimming, all far too small for his needs and much too out of reach to satiate his hunger. He eyed the shores when he could, taking in the sights. It all felt… Wrong. Much too small.
Too peaceful. He hated that too.
It was not until dusk that his opportunity finally arrived. An antlered prince with his court, paltry to any he had seen in his memory.
But it would do.
With an explosive burst of speed, he launched forth from the water before they could react and in an instant with but one bite- It was all over.
And it was a beginning.
The Dread Wehniek survives his encounter with Mish and Zima, but barely. Not heavily diminished in strength, he eks out a living by using the corpse of a salmon that died in spawn. There is plenty to eat and he slowly regains strength but then a FLOOD comes and washes him away where his journey continues into the ocean cause the food is plenty. He finds the open waters taxing, with whales, goldfish, laektears and all that jazz. It is a cycle of him losing and gaining strength. He eventually gains awareness that comes and goes with his hunger.
He then finds a new land ripe for the taking, with its peaceful and small sights. So he takes a form quite familiar to him- A deer.
And the land would thus know only horror.
Wehniek Champion started with 8 spirit +1 for featuring +1 for main character of post +1 for 10+ paragraphs =11 spirit
Long had he flown over his maker’s lands, surveying and gathering all that he could see with his eyes. He saw the vast buffalo grazing upon tundra plains, and the caribou migrating like an ocean over land. Mammoths like moving hills, trampling the land with their sheer bulk and all manner of predator hunting prey. It was life imagined as the creator intended but Viho knew there was more across the vast blue waters. That was the direction he was headed. When he grew tired he slept, when he grew restless he flew. He found no trouble, save for the occasional crow or raven seeing him as a threat but even they yielded to his wings.
Day became night, where he felt most at home underneath the stars and moon. There was peace there, found nowhere else. At least, not that he had found. For his time in the world had been short. His Lord had imparted in him many wisdoms and knowledge but the drive to explore had been the chiefest among them and he was to learn that which his maker knew nothing of. What more honor could be had? What other distinction did he need? The will of the creator was at his back and it would carry him ever on. If there was a land full of peace and quiet then he would find it and change his thoughts accordingly. Yes, Viho did not know everything but he knew enough to know that even he could learn more.
So the days wore on, the landscapes below became vast forests and upon the nights he could see the raging of fires. Only once did he swoop down to get a closer look and when he did, he bore witness to his Lord’s Childan. They whooped and hollered at him, before holding up hands out of reverence or something else. Viho did not know and he was far too busy to find out. There would be plenty of time one day to learn of the inner workings of the two legs but not now.
Eventually he did reach the ocean, never hesitating to leave his birth land behind. It was not long before another mass of land came into view- an island. He flew high enough to make out some sort of structure upon it and made a mental note to remind his Lord of something strange in his lands. Then he was out over the ocean again, with little more to be seen then the water below.
The ocean currents were different then the ones over land. The winds could be harsher, smelling of salt and sea but on clear days it was a jewel in those eyes of his. The sun reflected warmth, radiated it even and the blue skies were cloudless as they were endless. Less savory minds might have gone mad, maybe he was mad but Viho knew he could find land eventually. His lord had promised him that and in the one direction he knew, towards the cataclysm before his times. Surely there had to be land there? Even if there wasn’t, Viho didn’t mind. He could soar upon those currents forever until something came into view. He could even sleep upon the wind if he truly needed to, for though Chailiss had removed the need for drink and water, sleep was a necessity. A few more days and he would see what would prevail.
Reason or madness. It would come as no surprise.
Dark clouds threatened his blue skies. Always something to ruin the mood. But before the darkness had swallowed up his vision, he could make out just the faintest of landscapes. Or was it some sort of trickery? Viho knew not but he let the gizzard in his stomach propel him further on. He had two choices, above or below. To journey up would take him over the storm, to chill air and little vision but he would be safest there. To go below would put him at the storm's mercy. Fierce winds, salty air, thunder, lightning and who knows what else? What a foolish idea to go below!
The only thing Viho had to worry about was death and it would take more than a little storm to kill him. Especially if he played it smart and flew above.
Or so he thought.
The storm was upon him as he was flying up, a small miscalculation on his own part. Or just his addled brain making errors on lack of sleep. Either way, he braced for the worst and got exactly as he feared. The wind currents were all over the place, pushing him down as the struggle to reach higher and higher became downright exhausting and he couldn’t have that. It would be a certain death. One drip into the swirling ocean below and he would be swallowed forever more. So he dove through the clouds, avoiding the tingling of the lightning and the torrential rain. His feathers repelled the water with ease, keeping his down dry and warm. If he became soaked, that too could kill him. It would kill any lesser bird, any other stupid owl or any creature with two wings and half a brain as he.
After some masterful acrobatics fighting the wind, Viho managed to break out from the bulk of the clouds and gave witness below to the full picture splayed out before him. It was dark, storming and the winds were whipping with cold ferocity but he was born in the North, for the North and he would not succumb to such an undeserving storm. He spat at it, shouted out his warcry and buckled in despite all that sought to defeat him.
He was Viho, the owl! Champion to his Lord, Explorer of the world and he would not die this day.
He would not!
So the winged champion flew! With conviction and grace bereft of nothing but his display against the storm. He was defiant, he was strong and even despite the peril, he would preserve.
But that all changed when he saw the faintest bit of red amidst the waves. One second it was there, the next, gone. What had it been? Another wave, another flash of red, before it too, was gone. Curiosity was an alluring beast all its own, wasn’t it? There he was, in the midst of a storm and he wanted to see what had caught his attention.
So he did, turning around mid flight. Even backwards the wind was against him but he beat his wings yet until he saw the red once more, before it gave away to a different color- blue. It was the faintest trace of it amidst the swirling black but it was there. Then he blinked and it wasn’t.
Viho scanned once more despite the roaring of the storm and rain and the wind. Shining objects were rarely seen so deep, so out of the norm. He was in the middle of the storm, what else could it be? He kept looking, flying closer, just above the highest of waves did he circle, or try to, against the winds.
There!
The same blue, sinking fast. He squinted, flying closer still, never taking his eyes off it. He pushed himself further, closer- just a little closer. Despite the waves, he could make out a trace of red and the blue, a small beacon in the deep, sinking lower and lower before he could see… He could see…
His heart dropped. He knew what the small blue was, wrapped in red swirls of hair. He stopped thinking at that moment, put his wings to his side and dove. Not ten heartbeats passed before he unfurled his wings and stretched out his claws, plunging them into the sea. He only had one shot, one desperate chance to do it right. If not…
He felt something in his grasp and tenderly squeezed, before beating his wings like never before. Up up up he went to avoid the next wave and when he was sure the dark abyss couldn’t get him, did he look upon his catch.
Drenched and fractured after being battered by the raging sea, she remained limp in his talons, like a discarded doll after being broken. Seeping from fissures spread across her form, as well as the gaping wound upon her wrist where her hand should have been, scarlet blood mingled with the cold water that coated her body and stained her attire. She was alive, but barely, as the faint pulse of life that desperately called out grew quiet.
Viho acted quickly, and breathed upon her wrist, freezing it to stop the blood loss. He did not care who she was or why she was out in the middle of the ocean. All that mattered was that she needed help. The wind continued to whip at him, a constant struggle with no end in sight. What would he do? What could he do now that he had another life in his clutches? He pushed his sight to the limits, looking for anything that might shelter them but when nothing yet still could be seen he went beyond his restraints and pierced through the darkness. In all directions he looked, and upon his farthest left there was a rock. A rock that he could make it too if he just-
A terrible gust pushed down against Viho, lightning flashed and in that briefest moment before his vision returned to normal, he swore he saw something vast and dark swimming within the ocean below. It frightened him to the core, for the deepest secrets of the ocean were not meant for some eyes, nor did he wish to find out whatever the creature was.
So he took off towards the rock and when he arrived, he found it to be nothing more than craggy, windswept island. Barely high enough to topple the waves that licked at it but it would do. If the girl was to survive, they both would need rest from the storm. So that’s what Viho did, he found a spot where the wind wasn’t so bad against the rocks and he settled in. He looked her over once more, barely breathing, barely living. It was a grisly sight to say the least, especially the loss of her hand. Frustrated at the lack of help he could give, Viho did the one thing he could do. He placed the girl within his downy feathers, where his warmth would bring some meager amount of comfort against the wet and cold. He hoped it would work as the storm boomed and the waves crashed light drums in the deep.
He shut his eyes, crouched down and dipped his head in the elbow of his wing. His thoughts wracked him. What else could he do? He did not know enough, that was one of the reasons he had been sent out after all, to learn. But not even his Lord could have expected such a thing perhaps…
His Lord!
Viho was not one to ask for help without exhausting all other options or being left with no choice. This was one of those times, so, for the first time in his life, he prayed. ‘Lord of Winter, Shepard of the North, hear me please. I need aid. I ask not for myself but for another. A red haired champion, one of Homura’s, lost at sea and dying. She is with me. Please, please my lord. Heal her. Heal her so she does not die.’ he repeated his prayer again and when he was about to start over a familiar presence washed over him. It said nothing but he felt… He felt something happen and then, the presence was gone. He sighed in relief, thanking Chailiss for he knew his prayer had been received. Then Viho settled in, waiting for the storm to end.
The howling wind and tumultuous waves abated after a time, when the sun had risen and yet was obscured by the presence of ominous clouds spread across the sky. When the storm came to an end, she awoke, blanketed in a mass of warmth and feathers.
Fear found that she could not immediately open her eyes, nor move, as though a malignant force had seized her body from her, and left only a senseless and dark abyss for her mind to wander adrift in. Every thought and silent word she attempted to grasp seemed so far away in this sea of shadows, and she struggled to find anything that would offer some sense of stability, some salvation from the nothingness she was lost in.
She began to perceive shapes and sounds around her, a vast undulating mass that reminded her of water… of the endless sea and its mighty song as waves crashed and splashed against each other. Then there was a much smaller shape in the dancing darkness, rising and sinking beneath the surface of the umbral water.
“Fear!!!”
A desperate voice called out from the small shape, struggling to stay atop the waves that attempted to pull it under, over and over again. The shape became more clearly defined, and Fear realized she recognized the shape as her own… but not her own. Something that she held as precious in her heart, she thought.
“Fear! Don’t go!”
Her simulacrum cried, losing against the tide, and Fear could only watch as the one that sought her help sank deeper and deeper into the abyss. She could not move. Even when she could see color, the red hair, her pale sickly skin, the frightened eyes of her sister looking at her as she drowned in the depths of despair.
“Don’t let me die.”
“No… why is this happening? Why?” Fear found her voice, and floated aimlessly atop the sea of shadows after losing Courage again. There was nothing she could do aside from let the currents carry wherever they will. “Was it my fault?” She asked herself in the silence, but there was no answer. Her lonely journey came to an end when the sea of shadows became still, and she slowly sank as well.
Then she opened her eyes to the sight of feathers, like those she had seen on the creatures of the northern realm. At first she did not understand what she was seeing, until she felt its warmth and the beating of another heart. She could hear the breath of life in another, and knew that she was not alone.
“Courage?” She asked with a weak voice as she began to tremble.
There came a ruffling of feathers and she felt herself being shifted around by the weight of something large. Not long after, sunlight pierced the dark and a large blue eye peered in on her between feathers.
“Calm, calm.” A masculine voice said with gentleness. “I mean you no harm little one. You are safe here, you are safe.” It tried to reassure her.
There was no strength in her limbs, no vigor left in her spirit, she simply stared back at the blue eye and struggled to regain her senses. “Where am I? Where is Courage?” She asked again, resisting the temptation to surrender to fatigue, to the sweet embrace of sleep, as her head felt like it was being tossed back and forth, and a swell of nausea almost overwhelmed her.
The blue eye grew softer. “You are safe. I know not where we are, only that we are upon a rock amidst the endless sea. I… I… Do not know where this Courage is.” He said, struggling to get the words out.
“She was with me… in the water. We were together, and we look alike. Please, she was beside me, we were together. Please, you must’ve seen her.” Fear surged upwards, trying to grab at the eye and its voice, despite the protest of her exhausted body. Her hand reached out, frail and unsteady, and the champion could see that instead of her hand extending forth, it was an appendage sculpted from ice, a frozen simulacrum of her hand.
She did not utter another word, it was an agonized wail as she realized what had happened and grief struck like a hurricane. She ignored the sharp pain and dull aching of her body as she sobbed and shook, shedding tears for her lost sister and hand, for the loss of her innocence in a world that would cruelly punish those that were naive.
She choked out a few words, “Please… please… give her back…” and continued to cry.
The eye grew wide as realization dawned and pulled away. “Oh no… She was…” He spoke in a voice of crushing defeat. “I didn’t see her. I didn’t… The storm… It was dark. I-I failed.” He did not say anything for a long time, the only sound was her crying. The eye came back after a time, illuminating her fiery hair.
It was tinged with sadness. “I am sorry.” He began, “I only saw the pendant, that striking blue in a sea of dark. If I knew there was another, I would have saved her. I would have-” His voice caught in his throat before he coughed to clear it. “I cannot give her back to you. I am sorry.” The eye began to retreat out of shame.
With tears staining her cheeks, and each convulsion squeezing her chest, the pain finally reached a crescendo before it began to subside. Her uneven and heavy breathing eased away, and she slowly became quiet and still. She could feel the presence of the voice behind the curtain of feathers, and had watched with silent sorrow as the caring eye receded from out of her vision.
Thoughts of her sisters then filled her mind: she had abandoned Kindness… left her alone. Curiosity and Wanderer did not know what happened. They had failed their maker and their kin. Fear could not face these terrible thoughts, and retreated away from the shadows in her mind. Instead, she reached out to the one that had spoken to her; the one that shielded her from the outside world.
“My name... is Fear. What is your name?” The raspy cadence of her voice broke the silence, and sickened the trepid champion. The sound seemed so much more stark and aberrant to her ears.
A reply came after a while, “My name is Viho.” He said. “Viho the Wanderer, the Explorer... The Failure.” He paused, sounding bitter at himself. “I, uh, sorry. Well met Fear. It is unfortunate that any would meet in such a way but here we are. If there is anything you need, anything I can do to help, please ask.”
“You saved me, how can I ask for anything more? Thank you, Viho.” She spoke with forlorn quietness, afraid of her own voice. Her words seemed hollow, as if she were simply following a script and imitating the motions of conversation. “I have to find my maker; she can help my sisters. I need to find her.” Yet Fear remained still, uncertain, and lost.
“You are… Welcome Fear.” he almost whispered. “Now, where might your maker be?” he asked.
“She said she would return. She would come back and we would continue across the sea. She was going to Keltra, then to the white orb in the sky. I do not know where she is now.” Her gaze drifted over the patterns of Viho’s pinions, his soft and warm plumage, and she allowed herself to pretend that perhaps she could just stay like this, and her maker would find her instead.
“The… The moon?” He said to himself. “Well we can’t get there, unfortunately but perhaps I can take you to this Keltra? Do you know the way?”
Fear shook her head. “We were following the rising sun. Crossing the sea in search of others among the divine. I don’t know where I am, I just want to go home.” She shifted to her side, and curled inwards, trying to find memories of the paths she had taken, and where she went. “There are others that would know; the other gods and goddesses.” She offered.
“It was my Lord, you would know him as Chailiss, who healed you. A simple prayer was all it took. Perhaps, perhaps you could pray to your maker?” He offered.
“I’ve never prayed before. Will I make a mistake? Will I fumble with my words? Would she answer?” Fear contemplated her own questions, and found herself conflicted between hope and despair. Was she worthy of receiving salvation after letting hundreds of the sleeping humans be stolen, and then foolishly risking her life in an attempt to rescue them… would Homura want to hear her prayers?
“Save them… please. I know you can. You would always protect us, so I beg you, please save those that were taken. Please save Courage and Kindness. I will do anything you ask, if you answer this prayer. Just say yes, and don’t let them suffer for my sins.” And Fear could only wonder, would Homura hear her whispers, her desperate plea, or would she remain silent?
Fear waited and waited, clinging to the hope that her maker would unveil the feathers before her, and show her both Courage and Kindness standing behind her. The red goddess would say, “It is safe now, and you do not need to be afraid.” Fear could feel herself smile as she envisioned being uplifted and running to embrace her sisters as the bright sun shone down upon them, and the walls of Keltra stood tall and strong all around them.
She waited and waited.
“...Fear?” Viho called out to her. “Has your maker said anything? The skies are clear, we need to leave while we can, before another storm comes.”
“If we leave, how will she find us? We can’t go! I don’t want to.” She could hear the song of the sea, the dancing waves, and whispering wind. Viho’s feathers only suppressed the noise of the world, and Fear felt too weak to face the music, to confront the cruel outside and continue moving on.
“My maker will come. We were not far from the colossi. Besides, the divine are so powerful, they don’t need us. Why fight when we don’t have to. When we will only fail.” Fear bitterly chuckled, and looked at her frozen hand, seeing her distorted reflection upon its glistening surface.
“Very well, Fear. We shall stay. But I disagree with your assertion.” Viho said, “Yes, the Divine are powerful. But you are wrong, at least in my case. My Lord needs me, for he seldom leaves the North. I am to act as his eyes and ears out in this world. I have to fight, for he will not always be able to save me. Will I fail… Yes. But if I survive such failure, then I will only learn and grow. Perhaps most don’t need us but then ask yourself, why bother even making us in the first place?” He began to rise. “Hold onto me for a moment, I must stretch my legs.”
Her hands found purchase among his pinions, and she clung to the owl champion as he stood. The answer to his question eluded her, and she closed her eyes as she recalled all of the words her maker had spoken. “I don’t know why I was made. I was only happy that I had been made, and that was all I wanted. To be born.” She murmured to herself before opening her eyes and seeing Viho.
“There is nothing wrong with that. If your maker did not ever tell you why she made you, then perhaps it is for you to find out? I cannot say for sure.” He walked around, silently upon the weathered rocks, slow and methodical. “To be born is to be alive. To be alive is to live upon this earth. To breathe its air and smell its aromas. To watch the sun rise and set. To fall in love and grow old. Yes, there is nothing wrong with wanting to be born. As long as you are happy, as long as you live. Least, that’s what I think anyway.”
“She asked for our help. Carrying our sleeping kin to the three colossi that would take them across Galbar. I didn’t think about what would come after, I just wanted to be useful.” Fear listened to the muffled music all around her, and found it lulling her into a tranquil state as she spoke softly in rhythm with its melody.
“Back and forth, we went, until so many were laid upon the three colossi that there was nowhere to walk. We were careless and haphazardly placed all around. Even if the calamity hadn’t struck, I think they would’ve fallen anyway. Our purpose upon birth, rendered pointless in an instant, and I remember struggling to pull Courage out of the water as she leapt in after those that fell. It took us so long to place them, and… there was no possibility that she could grab them all. Sorry, I’m not sure what I’m saying right now. I just remembered that... Courage didn’t hesitate, she just leapt. I wish I had feathers like you.” Fear nuzzled into his wings, and felt the shadow of a smile touch her lips. Pain and joy pushing against each other, like night and day competing across the sky.
“There is no need to apologize. You are safe in those feathers of mine and safety beckons the type of talk that we seldom say. I am honored by it.” Viho said, carrying them close to the edge of the island. “She asked and you helped, there is no nobler purpose than that. Even when tragedy struck, you tried your best but even we have limitations. Some can be overcome, some cannot. There is no shame in admitting this. Only that we strive to be better.” He walked them back to the center of the island. “Sometimes even flying can be scary, with or without feathers and wings. To be afraid is natural, to meet it head on is often necessity- Courage, if you will. There are many types of Courage, from the bravest of feats, to the most simple, like, helping another out of the water or confiding in a strange bird. That, to me, is often the bravest thing a person can do. Make themselves vulnerable. It is hard to do, I think but so worth it, in the end.” Viho settled back down.
She did not speak, nor stir, when he seated himself. She was quiet, as she slept peacefully while keeping hold of the owl champion.
Viho stayed guard for a time, then yawned himself, gave a small hoot and shut his eyes too. A good sleep was a good idea.
-Viho, the owl champion of Chailiss, flies across the northern realms and travels southward -He flies over the sea and encounters a storm. He sees Fear, champion of Homura, sunken beneath the waves, and then rescues her. -Fear awakens and Viho comforts her as she grieves the loss of her sister. -She prays to Homura, and waits for a response from the red goddess. -Neither champion leaves the little island they wait upon, and both eventually fall asleep.
Chailiss starting = 3 Vigor
-1 Vigor to heal Fear and give her an icy appendage. (Note, it is only slightly cold, working more like magical ice that works as a new hand, maybe with secrets to unlock?)
Chailiss ending = 2 Vigor
Viho starting = 2 spirit
-2 to push a limit
+1 for post +1 for main char +1 for collab with other champ +1 for medium post length
= +4 Spirit
Fear starting 0 Spirit +1 for post +1 for collab with other champ +1 for medium post length
Member
Enzayne
Goldeagle1221
wintersoldier
Cyclone
Vec
Tim the Yeti
Fetzen
Crusader Lord
Timemaster
