Sure. Just throw it in somewhere near the top. Probably easiest to link to the sword's sheet from Thacel's sheet until 'everything can be put on the wiki'.
I keep my creation sheets here so I don't have to deal with the image-flooded character tab too much. All of Toun's creations are there.
So this maybe a foolish question but is there anyway to link directly to the Vigilance section, or just to there in general? It is fine either way, just wanted to ask.
A mosaic of the stars above reflected from Cornerstone below. The gloss of the white porcelain made the floor a flat blue lake, dappled with constellations and bright blotches of moons.
Against the water-like reflections were a legion of repeating grey structs, leaning to support four-limbed bodies decorated with vicious and barbed extremities. Around them fussed the comparatively small slave hain, only resting as per their shifts and roles. With flowing, synchronised dances, they willed the very reflections on the floor up in shapes of opaque porcelain to use as materials for the suspended bodies. Their dances lined up in exact movements, making even the smallest piece falling into place resound in a echoing chord. The rhythmic clinks and clacks gave the night a cold, methodical chill.
If the sun still graced the sky, and if his sister had not spent so much effort to make herself elusive, Toun would have already noticed the presence approaching from the east.
The presence had decided to finally visit her brother, and she was going to bring him a gift. It was not that she believed Toun's favor could be won with pleasantries. In truth, it was more of a catalyst for conversation with the aloof sibling. The gift in question was the twelve white giants which Alefpria had captured a long while ago. They were stuck in a net like a handful of crabs, flying forth between two huge flying siphonbeasts at the wall. Despite her body's looks, the goddess could carry such thing with ease.
She gently landed on Cornerstone's tiles. The giants continued to struggle in their bindings, scraping the perfect floor for their efforts. It was her first time in that odd land of clay, and it did look as imposing as the stories told. She looked around for a short time, and while she could just try to sense the god, she knew it was better to announce her presence.
"Hello? Toun?" She asked, not letting any hint of intimidation or awe the place caused seep into her speech.
The methodical factory worked on for a lonely while. The intimidation only closed in.
A calm, if quivering, voice sounded in Ilunabar's mind.
"In the centre, sister." The place was suddenly less oppressive. "I did not expect to see you. Why have you brought those units here?"
"These are the giants that walked into the territory of Alefpria. Since they do attack some of the creatures under Lifprasil I decided to constrain them before they got into fights and risked being destroyed," she answered.
She walked for a short while before jumping down near the location where the porcelain clad sibling was. Toun stood adjacent to the only tile lifted out of place; a circular block at the very centre of the vast floor, spinning like a potter's wheel. He had his hands splayed around a lump of prototypical clay. The furthest joints of his fingers stretched onto its surface with bright red ink, painting instructions in exact calligraphy. There, Ilunabar got to observe the calligraphy in work, and her interest in the skill showed.
Toun did not appear changed by the attention. He stayed focussed on his task. "I see. They may be disposed of, then." The white giants were of little interest after all.
The clay on the wheel began to take on a new form, texturing with lumps that could have been the stumps of limbs. And then it stopped. Toun looked up from his work, peering suddenly at his cloaked sister with a vacant eye. "That is not all, is it?" He asked. "You have servants. You still came personally. We have not spoken in some time."
"Sending any of the Divas would have been rude, I believe." She turned up to face her sibling. "Furthermore, I wanted to see you by myself, it has been a long time. Maybe all the recent events have made me somewhat melancholic. Maybe I just want to cultivate a healthy connection to a sibling whose objectives are not all that different from mine"
Toun's look sharpened. He straightened his back and brought his hands behind him into the opposite sleeves of his robe. A respectful, if uncertain posture. "The deaths in the family affected us all." He looked aside, pausing. His gaze returned to Ilunabar no more certain than it had been before. "Although, I have observed a number of your creations on this planet. How is it that you believe our goals align?"
"Our aesthetic might change, but we are creators, not destroyers." That was not entirely true, considering the Metatic Ocean and the slave hain. But it was not entirely false, considering Logos. "Furthermore, we both seek perfection while also not limiting ourselves to flesh and physics."
Toun's eye narrowed and his voice lowered. "You are either confusing the ends with the means or you are trying deliberately to alter my viewpoint. How can I trust your agenda? What reason should I have?"
"Oh, I see. Let me rephrase what I said minus the euphemism." She took a heavy breath before continuing. "You are not a god who had tried to harm me or my projects. We also work with similar materials and concepts. We can work with fully physical things like porcelain and glass; with concepts that have a physical form but need a conceptual context, like color and calligraphy, and with fully ideal concepts, like oaths and stories."
She stopped, rethinking her position. "I spoke a bit too much, I am sorry. The point is, I believe I have valid reasons to want to be in contact with you. If you fear a sinister agenda behind my words, I do not know how to prove to you that is not the case beyond mentioning that in the past I have helped Vowzra, Teknall, Astarte, Lifprasil, Lazarus, and others without asking for retribution for my contribution. Beauty in itself is a very self-achieving objective, I do not need schemes to deal with the siblings who do not want to destroy my work."
Toun's gaze remained defensive and still. He obscured his thoughts behind an uncomfortable silence. It ended with Toun's usual bluntness. "Come with me." He stepped around his wheel and offered a hand upturned to Ilunabar.
She was a startled at first. It was not within the answers she expected. Still, she complied. "Sure." She reached for his hand.
The instant that their hands touched, Toun wrenched them both across a quarter of the entire planet in an instant. The temperature from the warm equator to the far north suddenly dipped. They appeared in a craggy land, covered in snow. The goddess was less surprised by the sudden flight than by the previous response. Her only reaction was willing her cloak to be more 'winter-like' once they set their feet in the cold.
In front of them were two notable features; a portal to a wavy landscape beyond and an immense pillar of porcelain written with red characters and four godly signatures. The writing was an epitaph that bound the actions of gods by its terms. Behind the pure, despondent fire they evoked behind their godly eyes, the words were as clear as they day they were written:
"Here lies the memory of our sister of knowledge Vulamera and our brother of time Vowzra. Here in their tragic deaths, we swear an oath to never seek the death of any sibling of ours signed onto this pact. We do this for the sake of our souls as well as the integrity of our hearts, for death begets death, and grief begets grief. May this place within the gate be a place where no god sets foot to do battle. In sacred remembrance of this, we declare: Fate shall no longer toy bloody games between our bodies into this timeline."
Staring at the pillar, Toun released Ilunabar's hand and tucked his own hands into his opposite sleeves. "Sister, your words have made me realise something." He turned his head to look at her. "I need your help. But before you can help me, I need you to sign the Oath."
"The Oath huh?" She said, casually placing a hand on her hip in a relaxed stance. "Pardon me for not having signed it before, I just found it to be redundant. It is not like I can kill anyone unless they are allergic to angry flute playing." She jested, despite the knowledge it would only fall on deaf ears. "And any god who wants to hurt me is enough of a brute to also be an oathbreaker."
Toun did not react.
"But thinking again, sometimes redundancy is a good remedy to avoiding communication noise. Furthermore, since I am working so hard to keep Vulamera's ambitions alive, it seems proper to pay respects to her memorial. For the other siblings too, but her case, for me, is something beyond." with that said she vanished, just to return seconds later with a bottle of ink of a thick, glittery magenta color and a metallic and a jeweled reproduction of a peacock feather.
She dipped the pen in the ink and wrote her name on the memorial. The deep purple contrasted with the other colors, there seemed to be something unnatural in it, but the effect it caused made it more memorable, not less.
"And just to avoid myself from abusing the meaning of a name."
Shifting the color of the ink to fit her needs, she wrote the name of her four divas by her own name's side. Meimu in a flowery pink (visit it in another season, and it might be green), Notte in the colour of a starry sky, Piena in steel, and Chronicle in brass.
"You will find all of parts of your pure essence joint and severally bound," Toun mentioned monotonously. "Jvan's 'painter' signed the oath on her behalf. They are both beholden to it, as will be any other shard of themselves. However, the sentiment will not be lost on others."
"It is done brother."
Only now, with Ilunabar having demonstrated herself, did Toun's eye soften and look down. Gone was his hard tone, slowing into a sombre trill. "You have my thanks. In deepest sincerity." His hands slowly separated from his sleeves and his fingers weaved together. "Now, I should begin to explain. What do you know of the nature of demigods, sister? Not their genesis, per se, but their role?"
Toun began to turn around, offering a hand to proceed back to Cornerstone again. They could both feel the effects of the Oath still weighing on their emotions just by being near it.
"Well, what I have been focusing the most about the demi-gods is the typical fate of their parents. But let me think," Ilunabar took his hand again. The wrenching sensation was as expected. Dappled tiles and equatorial warmth appeared again. She typically liked to move by herself, but she felt like Toun's intention was not to assert dominance.
She continued brooding. "Typically, their roles are ones that are not taken by gods. There is the exception of Teknall's daughters, but they were based on the Divas’ theoretical design, and therefore are very specialized in one area."
"You are mostly correct. However, there is a deeper pattern." Toun walked calmly back around his wheel and placed a hand upon it. "Their roles are ones that are not taken by living gods. Whatever processes that dictate their roles mutate their exact nature, but it would appear that demigods are being born with concerns similar to gods that have perished."
Toun pushed the edge of his wheel to make it spin. It did not slow. From its centre, an image expanded, distorted as though looking through the eyes of a small bird. Beyond was a cavernous interior, hewn by dwarven tools. There stood a cloaked figure in a stitched mask.
"This is Farxus. He appeared in balance to Reathos' demise."
The image blinked and changed to observe a bronze, avian, almost machine-like humanoid.
"You mentioned Lazarus. She is obsessed with secrets and knowledge. Appropriate then, that she appears after Vulamera."
With another blink, three figures were seen striding through a temperate woodland. Toun gestured to the woman in the large feathered black cloak.
"You may or may not have heard of Helvana. She has an affinity for darkness. Her appearance was late to replace Julkolfyr, though his essence waned over a long period."
Toun grabbed the edge of the wheel between his thumb and finger, instantly halting it and winking the image back to flush white clay.
"There are others. They all point to the possibility that the essence of dead gods is...preserved in divine children."
Ilunabar's eyes widened with realization. There was definitely such 'balance' in the world. She could irrevocably perceive it now that Toun had mentioned.
"Yes... Definitely. I do not know if it is a natural thing or a machination of the higher gods, but the examples you give make a good point. They would have convinced me if I was not already convinced by an experience of my own."
Toun's face turned a degree, curious.
"Ever since Vulamera departed, some of her words have been echoing in my mind. What she said in the times before the creation of this universe. She wanted to build a library in reaction to Ull'Yang's kindness."
"If Lazarus, which thinking now, I sought out to help for no good reason, took the aspect secrets and experimentation. I have been definitely led to a path of achieving and memory." Ilunabar mused aloud.
Her talking was far more paced than normal. She thought of the extraordinary implications. "It makes me remember the very first thing we heard. Our Name and Role. Perhaps... that is a god's essence... And though the Name might be lost, the universe cannot afford losing a Role. And if no god is fit for it, then a demigod shall be born."
"This is but speculation," Toun lifted a hand to placate Ilunabar's reaction. "However, your conclusions are similar to mine. The next question I sought was the role of the parent gods, if any are involved. I have not witnessed the creation of a demigod first-hand, though inferences can be made based on the results. Consider Conata, the-...or rather a daughter of Teknall, now that you bring that to my attention..."
Toun flicked the wheel again, opening the lensed image of a metallic girl sitting on a beach with a wending lump of lustrous fluid between her raised hands.
"Observe how expertly she handles metals. She was built for it. Teknall promised the southern Ironheart rovaick a helper to exploit the greatest natural resource in their homes. She was designed and built. Her 'role' was willed by her progenitor."
Ilunabar raised a hand to her chin, this was more complex than babbling. A bottle of wine accompanied of a wine glass flew into her hand, landing in a surprisingly gentle manner, she apparently had brought it all the way from the Pictaraika.
"You have to consider that Conata is a pure-work of Teknall. Back then, we crafted two beings, Kinesis, a collaboration between our styles, and Conata, which was based loosely on my design and theory, but was mostly built only by Teknall." she sipped her wine. "And with all respect, it shows. No wonder she had to live among mortals to learn some sense of nuance, as being the child of only one god did not provide her new worldviews."
"Beyond her, there was The Bard. Which was born when Vowzra made me craft a musical instrument. I do not know what his purpose was, but he seems to have done what Vowzra needed to do, and now he outlives his father." This caused her to drink a large quantity of the alcoholic liquid. "And then there is Maeus, which was created when Vestec stole and drank a powerful beverage I had made with the objective of inebriating Logos should he attack me. He… wasn’t designed for a purpose. Outside of being a god of alcohol, he seemed to be a collection of random aspects. Vestec’s fault, I believe."
"Your recounting demonstrates-" Toun raised two joined fingers to punctuate his response. "-just the next measure. Precision of concept. Conata could arguably be a subset of Teknall's essence purely. He understood metals just as innately -- he created them. Only he could define it so precisely. Granted she still exhibits irrational or spontaneous behaviour. That may have been due to your involvement in her design, which influenced the will of her role. Possibly defining you as a lesser-influencing parent." Toun did not stop to let either the slight against Ilunabar's sense of judgement or the implication of her new motherhood sink in. "Had Teknall been the only one involved in her creation, perhaps then the will would have been more precise in concept. But, assuming that was only one being, what happens when the wills of two different beings intersect? You bring up the Bard and Maeus. They are special cases that I have not had the opportunity to observe yet, but there is a clear case in Keriss that could inform their outcome as well."
Toun began to pace around the wheel, walking behind Ilunabar as he talked and back to his wheel again. He gestured his obsession. "Keriss was born of Vulamera and Vakarlon. Trickery and knowledge. And her affinity is in suffering." He threw up his hand. "Suffering! This is beyond the means of both parents independently. Their essences mixed to bring suffering. A unique power!"
Toun placed both his hands flat on his wheel, eye wide and pupil dilated. "Now, with this knowledge, we have ideas that can be brought together." Toun flicked one wrist and his index finger tapered to a red nib. He wrote one character in Tounic calligraphy. Two concentric circles. "An essence corresponding to a role, when in flux, will be drawn into a new divine body." Another symbol was scribed; a precise cross-section of a funnel. "The exact nature of an essence may be drawn specifically by a divine being with great precision of concept." One more symbol was scribed. This one looked like a diptych of two opposite patterns. "Essences with roles beyond the full understanding of a single divine being may be drawn by the intersection of understandings from two or more divine beings without the full understanding of the role."
He stood up straight and spread his palms above the wheel. "We, the two of us, hold instruments that may define concepts so precisely that they may define the role of a divine essence. My calligraphy, your aesthetic." Toun enclosed the three symbols in a perfect red circle. "Do you know what this means, sister? Do you realise what is now possible!?"
Ilunabar's face became far more serious. Before, it had been just talking, but now Toun was moving into the area of practice, and she knew the possible practical effects of creating a demigod.
"You also need to account the consequences... Vulamera, Belruarc, Vowzra, Vakarlon, all had very clear demises, which is quite different from what Julkolfyr suffered, for example."
"The consequences? Are you describing the 'parents'?" Toun threw up a hand and stepped to the side. "The consequences will not be bringing a new divine being into existence, sister. Are you not listening?"
"I just needed to make sure that fact was known, brother, considering I always took that into consideration when I made the previous demigods." Still, she relaxed, continuing with the tension would just create animosity between her and Toun.
"Nevertheless, I'm truly intrigued by what you propose. Indeed, as I said in the beginning of this conversation, we both know how to work well with the conceptual, and coincidentally or not, we both are writers. Yet, your proposal implies a very focused idea of a god, I do not know if I have such a clear cut idea of a god right now."
Toun's stance changed. He lowered his arm and faced Ilunabar fully, returning his head to an anatomically viable position on his neck. "Neither do I. I do not expect that from either of us, for it would make what I wish to try possible without us both involved. Cast those doubts aside -- I shall tell you directly what I have discovered if it will stop conceiving such doubts." His tone levelled to flat fact. "Kyre is dead. His traces are gone."
The goddess raised an eyebrow in mild surprise. "He is? I know he was being awfully idle in face of some issues, but I did not expect him to just die..." she judged despite not knowing the circumstances.
Toun gave a pause. "We can bring him back."
"Ah! Yes... We probably can…"
Without breaking eye contact, Toun walked around the wheel while Ilunabar continued.
"Yeah, it could definitely work. Though maybe we should check his situation first... No, thinking again, that would give time for a new demigod to appear, we need to act now."
As if the final word caused the movement, a white clay tablet sprung up from below Ilunabar's vision. Toun was holding it from next to her, staring expectantly.
"Write him." Toun pushed the tablet into his sister's hands.
"Right..." she couldn't start immediately because she needed to think what system she would use. She had learned the Diva's model wasn't as ideal as she thought. "Let me just get my equipment, it shouldn't take more than a second." With that, she vanished.
In the blink of an eye, she returned, this time with a full case of ink bottles, three different pens, and some sort of eyewear which had a thin metallic frame holding a pair of glass lenses. The glass itself, however, was covered in cloth, as if to "seal" it.
Toun had already commenced writing on a separate tablet with his red ink and fingers.
Without a word, the goddess started to write. After she finished writing the introduction, she took the cloth away from the glasses before wearing it. It was colored in a weak hue of the beyond color Vowzil, showing all the possible potential of each page, while only causing a soft sensation of having her eyes burn.
On the other tablet. Tounic calligraphy spread in shifting formations as all four fingers of one hand scratched upon the tablet's white surface. The symbols clashed and organised in loud marches and deep strategy, bound on their edges only by fencing runes that kept the concepts stable.
The goddess's work was far more 'delicate' in a sense, as it involved long indexes, thorough examples, complex flowcharts, and detailed descriptions. It all focused on the small aspects that formed combat, and from there it built up in a procedural form to cover battles as a whole. The same method was used to define personality, as she had first used with the Divas -- an initial framework left open to add personal experience into its content later.
The pieces of written essence, running from the high abstraction to low on Toun's tablet and from low abstraction to high on Ilunabar's tablet, crossed over in content during their progress. In that moment, they diverged by direct comparison. Even independent of the distinct semantics in their writing styles, stark differences occurred until they could not be considered describing the same being. All was going to plan.
Toun's eye remained half shut as he wrote, Ilunabar was similarly absorbed. Only the silence between the two gods hinted at the weight of their actions. To bring back a fallen sibling could secure their own lives, if they had family to bring them back from the dead. However, this was but a mild side effect. Grief from losing immortal kin was what truly lent passion to their scrivening hands.
The pair silently worked as the stars passed over.
The sun began to beam over the serrated edge of Cornerstone's horizon. Ilunabar found the final flourish of her quill before Toun was finished. However, Toun was not far behind. Another hour of corrections and revisions saw his work complete in turn.
His hand lowering, dry of his red ink, Toun faced Ilunabar once more. His eye glowed in a shape of anticipation. "Your doubts. Are they still present?"
"Not anymore. It would be too late to worry, anyway." She shrugged, giving one tired look to the tome she wrote, rubbing her eyes in hopes of making the burning feeling in them go away. It was still there even a time after she took the glasses off.
Toun, in turn, looked down at his version one last time. "That is well. The point where this succeeds or fails hangs upon what comes next." He gazed over at the white wheel hovering. His arm stretched to place the red-written tablet a hand width from the exact centre of the circle. "Place your piece next to mine. We must both weave a body for Kyre to occupy."
The muse nodded, and placed her own work next to Toun’s. The ends of the tablets struck flush together with a satisfying snap.
The wheel spun. Slow at first, settling into a speed that made the tablets blur into the appearance of a disc. Toun extended a finger and curled at the air near to its edge.
"Come."
The single, familiar word was all the effort that Toun displayed. The tablets blurred and weaved into a new shape on their own. Tendrils of red and magenta blurred into gradient swirls. They embraced in a twist at such speed that it formed a colour of its own. Symbols of war.
"Observe," Toun said. "An essence is drawn."
The goddess paid close attention as the design came to fruition. Whatever happened next, she needed to observe it down to its most tenuous details.
The silence was broken by a steady beat. It called to him across the vast nothingness, the only sound to ever exist as far as he could recall. What could create such a sound. It was not the thump of a heart, he was yet without one. No, it was primal, a sound that resonated with every fiber of his non-existence. A drum, that was the sound. Not just any drumbeat however, no it was a call to war. Was that why he could hear it? Why it was the first sound to reach out to him? It was trying to tell him something and he knew exactly what it was saying. War was coming, for he would be war. All he had to do was exist. Surely such a thing couldn’t be difficult. If he was able to hear the noise there must be something on the other side. A conduit to allow him access to existence.
He extended his consciousness, farther than he had ever been able to before. Without the concept of time he did not know how long he was searching, following the beating of the drum towards his destination. It grew stronger the closer he came to the breach, a breach that had been created only for him. He knew this to be true for none of the Others moved towards it. He alone could hear the sound, and eventually see the crack that would lead to existence. Such a novel concept, existing. Of course, all these thoughts would disappear the moment he slipped through. They could not survive the shift. In a sense, it wouldn’t be him existing. He was simply another part of the process. His consciousness brushed the breach, and then there was nothing.
'Thought, that is all I am. I have no physical form. I cannot interact with the world in this state. Not in the manner I will need to. No this will not do at all.' On instinct the transparent spirit of runic design merged with the nearby clay. Within a moment, the material began to stretch upwards, stopping when it was a few inches over five feet in height. It did not remain still for long, though the next step of the process occurred more rapidly. Where there was once formless clay now stood a pale human figure clad in a robe of the same color as his skin. For the time he paid no heed to the two truly divine entities before him, instead he turned his gaze down to his clothing. With a wave of his hand color bloomed from the bland garment, turning it from the pale tone it had to a vibrant red. Satisfied with the change, he finally acknowledged the two formidable presences before him.
Toun was looking back, statue still and blue eye wide. "Something is amiss..." He muttered.
It spoke back. "I need information. The current blank slate that is my mind is unacceptable. Can either of you amend this?" Despite the youthful look he possessed his voice was deep, though unable to resonate due to the expansive nature of the surrounding area.
"Blank slate?" Toun repeated, slow and confused. His turned his head slightly from the figure. His brow opposed down over his wide eye. "He is different to before."
"It seems it is more than just a simple difference, brother," Ilunabar said. She hadn't reacted much to what has happened outside of diligently taking notes of each detail. Yet, for her, it was easy to tell what was amiss from basic things like speech and behavior pattern alone.
The red-clad figure had remained silent as the two beings spoke to one another, lips pulling down into a frown the longer they went on without explaining anything. His question had been a simple one, or so he thought. It appeared that they had more important matters to discuss, the main topic going completely over his head.
"I can help you. But first, could you take one of these?" Ilunabar formed three illusory tools in the air in front of their experiment; a pickaxe, a hoe and a sword.
Toun's eye blinked to the items and back to the figure. The experiment was clear. Ilunabar needed to assess how much the project had deviated from the expected result.
Now he was finally addressed. It was not with an answer, but rather a request from the more feminine of the entities. His scowl grew more pronounced but he believed the only way he would get the information was to play along. He took a step forward to close the distance between himself and the objects that had been summoned out of thin air. Narrowing his eyes, he examined each one in turn. At first they were meaningless as his mind was still new, but after a moment words and connections began to form. Supplies, food, and battle each one on their own was fragile. They could only reach their true potential when utilized together. Yet he had to choose only one.
"No, I cannot. They are meaningless on their own, so picking one would handicap me more than if I had none." Once the words fell from his lips he took a step back, mouth still turned downward.
The goddess took a heavy breath. It was not a reaction motivated by anger but instead a self-censorship so she would not share aloud a joke about bringing the wrong sibling back, as the nitpicking behavior of the spirit reminded her of Vowzra.
"It is not Kyre for sure." she commented, side glancing Toun before looking to the newborn demi-god again.
"It seems we brought you to this world by accident as we were trying to resurrect one of our siblings," she said in an uncompromising manner.
"I hope you do not expect an apology for your mistake. I am not sorry, if an error had not been made I would not be here. While it would not matter if you had succeeded in your goal I am glad that you did not. Existence is preferable to nothing, I would presume." His tone was even and cool. He did not have time to apologize for something out of his control and even if he did he had no desire to do so.
Toun did not oblige the argument. "Do not apologise for our failures, essence-stealer," Toun rumbled. "Your act of existence is merely sealing our brother from us." Toun's fingers icicled into long, shining claws at his sides. Barely contained anger trembled them. "I'll destroy this one. We shall try again."
Self-perseveration was pushed to the back of his hollow mind when other thoughts began to swirl within. He could not devote attention to the predicament created by the porcelain one when the first stirrings of knowledge were in the process of birth. Only one thread had become strong enough for him to grasp. It was a simple concept, but one of immense importance; a name. Focusing more intently, he gave it a gentle tug, needing to know what the name was and what it belonged to. Both questions were soon answered as the thread bloomed.
Toun raised one of his long clawed hands...
"I am Thacel."
...And halted.
"Interesting name. It is certainly better than nothing I suppose." Thacel mused to himself aloud before turning his attention once more to the duo before him. While he had missed the words spoken by the one wearing robes, he noticed the talons that had not been there before. Their sudden appearance, combined with the quaking, clearly indicated that he had done something to garner the negative attention of the ceramic divine.
The second thought passed from the halted claws. Toun clinked forward.
On instinct Thacel took a step back while lifting both hands before him placatingly, the only action he could take as his words failed him.
"Toun, wait." Ilunabar said, not in a particular rush, but not as casual as before either. Her words were quick enough from Toun's previous hesitation to make him stop once more, slowly lowering his claws. His blue eye turned to her side, though he did not turn to face her.
"Not all mistakes are imperfect, the shining obsidian is born from seismic failures after all. We do not know if he is stopping Kyre from returning yet, just like we do not know if Kyre can return at all."
"You propose we keep this being alive?" Toun asked slowly.
"Yes, that is my proposal. Do you feel like killing him immediately is absolutely necessary? Even if you consider him an error, we need to put thought into it, see where the mistake began." The goddess crossed her arms and stared at Toun. She hadn't moved a step since the whole process began.
With the attention moved away from him, Thacel finally allowed himself to take a breath. While his existence was no longer in immediate danger he knew that his circumstances could change in less than a moment. His flat gray eyes fell upon the yet unnamed feminine entity who had taken to protecting him. It was clear that it was not out of any form of bond between them, but it was better than the pure hostility coming from the other, Toun. With this thought, he took a step to move himself closer to the female divine, distancing himself from Toun while also turning her into an obstacle between them.
Meanwhile, Toun felt Ilunabar's eyes on the back of his head the entire time. His chest breathed up and down. He slowly tilted his head to one side, and then shouted anger into the sky. His body wrenched a turn on one foot and threw his right claw underarm, extending its tips to the tiles below. They screeched at the contact, and as the claw followed through, the tiles beyond were thrown and broken in a line of force hundreds of fathoms before him.
The unfiltered rage shook Thacel to his very core. Even if he had been part of this world for centuries he doubted he would have ever experienced something as primal as the fury before him. He was grateful to be closer to the side of the female and capitalized on the position by taking another step toward her, though he stayed several behind her as a precaution.
"What could it have been!?" Toun shouted. He threw one arm through the air furiously. "We wrote Kyre! We coaxed him forth! Every mote of his being! All planned! All wasted!" He let out one more frustrated snarl.
The goddess' stare moved from her brother’s back to the destruction to his left. She was clearly distant, considering the possibilities while also being unaffected by the screaming that surrounded her. Finally, she calmly turned the stare of her deep purple eyes back to Toun.
"Let's say Zephyrion had not been temporarily banished by the greater gods, but outright killed," she said, unaware if Toun knew what had happened to the deity that previously hosted her. "And we were now writing him back into life. Do you think we would have added a line to stop his fatal mistake from being made? I think so, because otherwise what happened would just have repeated itself."
She finally took a step forward. "We wrote most of Kyre, but Kyre is dead, no matter if by murder or accident, the fate is the same. A correctly written Kyre would have all the words that lead to his death. A perfectly written Kyre, however, may not exactly be like that." She stopped.
"If you want, we can try again, this time making an effort to crystalize all the flaws in the paper."
Toun stood simmering. He responded with his back to Ilunabar still. "The course of life. That...No, we would still need to release his essence from this..." He waved a sharp finger lazily in Thacel's direction. "...Imitation."
Silence fell between the two divine beings. A silence that allowed Thacel’s thoughts time to be heard once more. The conversation, more importantly the parts contributed by the feminine idol, had shown him much. He had already known that they were his creators, but it was now clear that they had done so in order to bring back a being much like them. He took a moment to let his gaze trail along his own form.
"I do not believe I contain any essence of the one you sought to return to life, and if I do it is such a minimal amount that extracting it would not yield significant gains. Take a moment to compare the three of us." Thacel lifted his gaze to look upon the back of Toun. "I am a speck when in the presence of you two. Wouldn’t it stand to reason that if I contained a large chunk, enough to warrant my destruction to try again, of this Kyre’s essence I would stand beside you as an equal in terms of stature? Or at the very least the difference wouldn’t be anywhere near as massive as it is."
Toun's hunched shoulders continued to rise and fall.
Stepping around his goddess barrier, Thacel moved instead to stand between the two, his eyes still focused on Toun. "I am not Kyre. I am the product of your desire to bring back one that was lost. I am your time and effort given physical form. The pair of you sought to create perfection. Do you doubt your abilities to the point that you believe you missed the mark? I for one do not. You did not revive your Kyre, you created a being made in his honor."
"...I shall not dress my mistake in honour." Toun's anger was crumbling in his voice. "Kyre is a brother. My heart weeps too broadly to insult him so. All my siblings deserve better, god-whelp." The avoidance of Thacel's previous point spoke silent concurrence.
"If he deserves better, make me better. Craft me into a living monument to your fallen brother. With the wisdom and power held between the two of you, the foundation could be placed with ease. Or let me remain as I am and watch as I build myself to the same point." Thacel’s voice remained steady, he had avoided death for the time but that was a small victory.
Toun's head turned until the corner of his blue eye peered over his shoulder, shining back at Thacel. Disdain seeped with it. "You believe yourself his equal? Arrogant creature." He turned, elbows out and chin lowered. His fingers lengthened to splayed claws again. "Even in potential, you are a mistake. You have been suffered long enough. I shall not keep reminders of my failures before me-"
"He does seem to be clinging quite stubbornly for a chance to live, so it is quite hard for anyone to believe this is a mercy kill." Ilunabar crossed her arms, while at first her words had an edge to them, they became increasingly softer as they continued. "There is no sign that he is trapping the essence of Kyre, your own words denounce that realization. This is just murder for the sake of murdering."
The goddess measured her words. A direct confrontation would fan Toun's fury, but she was set on grasping the opportunity the new demi-god presented for the sake of a quest for something that could very well be unattainable.
"I have seen today that you are a kind soul Toun, do not let your ire bring more death to this family." she said, in a calm plea.
Toun's eye relaxed. He turned one of his clawed hands, looking down at the edges that threw the light of the morning sun. His claws shrank into curling fingers, this time just as he hung his head and wrinkled his brow. "What now, then, Ilunabar?"
The goddess's hand reached for her chin. "About Thacel, I would be fine with letting him go, as long as he abdicates his wish to be like Kyre. For the resurrection project, it seems we both do not have the power or knowledge to bring a god back... at this moment." She sighed.
A long, still sigh escaped Toun's nonexistent nostrils. Ilunabar had given him thought that lasted another quiet pause.
Toun turned up his eye, raising his brow. "Thacel, god-whelp. You are not Kyre." He spoke gently, in spite of his words. "You never will be. Though, I will allow you to live if your life is not wasted. Make yourself better, if that is still what drives you."
Turning his hand again, Toun curled a fist and raised the little finger of his right hand. It lengthened to a claw, though not poised to attack. He wrapped his other hand around the finger. "If you at least swear that much..." A sharp crack sounded as the long finger abruptly tilted. "...I shall ensure you keep to your word."
Thacel took a deep breath, composing himself after the back-to-back threats that had been placed upon his life. He lifted his head to meet the eye of Toun directly, gauging the sincerity of his...father. "I can swear to this easily, for my words earlier came out misspoken. I do not intend to try and emulate your fallen brother, I know that is beyond my abilities. What I had meant is that I would build myself to be worthy of the attempt made by you two. I will not allow myself a life of luxury because of my divine origins, I will forge myself into something of use to the world. That had been my intent and I apologize for creating a misunderstanding between us."
The words left a bitter taste in his mouth. Confessing he had made an error was not easy, but the bitterness was honest.
Toun turned his full attention to his broken finger, still lengthened to a claw. He ran the hand it was severed from up and down the flat between its edges. Tiny red symbols bled out of the flush clay surface. Before their eyes, the claw's base swelled into the handle of a short, narrow sword. The guard was in the circular shape of Toun's insignia, while the pommel was a simple sphere of jet. With a flourish, Toun waved his free hand up from the ground, willing the clay tile below him to ooze upwards a thin white shape, tinted orange by the morning sun. The hand that held the claw-sword spun the blade and perfectly sheathed it within the ooze. The tile let go of the sword's new housing, leaving behind a filled scabbard. Toun let the assembly go. It floated into Thacel's hands. One last touch of a small white cloth fluttered from a tiny ring on the jet pommel. The sword and scabbard were lighter than expected. Lighter than the clay it started as.
"With that, there shall be nought but full understanding." Toun warned. "It will watch you, Thacel."
For the first time, the stoic face of Thacel broke, surprise coloring his features as he held the light blade in his grasp. He had not anticipated receiving a gift from Toun, after everything that had occurred between them in the short time since his creation. With a slow, almost reverent, movement he drew the blade from its sheath. His eyes danced along the flawless sword before returning it to its home within the pale sheath.
"A blade of such quality deserves a name equal to it. I can think of none better than Vigilance. A constant reminder that my actions are being watched and to act accordingly." Thacel’s tone was not that of one offended nor frightened, but surprisingly warm. At least compared to how he had been speaking thus far.
Toun paused. Something had taken him off-guard. He straightened to a rigid posture. "Do not disappoint me." His eye flicked to Ilunabar. "I shall continue my work. What we attempted here may not do well in the knowledge of others. Yet, sister, if you should be revealed to any new information, we may try again in the future. There is no more progress to make today, excepting reflection."
In Ilunabar's mind, Toun privately conveyed a reluctant addition, away from Thacel's ears. I owe you for preventing a further mistake. I will always be ready to help, should you require it, Ilunabar.
The Muse nodded, showing acknowledgment of both sentences. On that topic, all things have been said. There was no point delving further into such scars.
"As time passes, advancements in resources and concept will be eventual," she said before turning to the new demi-god. "Speaking of resource, I think you might want to follow me back to my holy land, Thacel. The archives in there will probably give you the context you need in this uncertain world."
Toun's head rotated to face Thacel. He clasped his hands behind his back.
"Thank you for the offer, it is incredibly generous and I would be a fool to turn it down." While Thacel spoke, he had turned his gaze away from his father to his mother. He was still coming to terms with the fact that beings as powerful as the two before him were his creators.
He let his gray eyes return to Toun and nodded his head. "I believe this is our farewell. I look forward to making good on my vow here."
"It is no farewell," Toun corrected. His hand swung from behind his back to point at Vigilance. His little finger had already grown back. "Not while you carry the blade. I may call upon you again, if you think yourself useful." The same hand waved forwards, shooing them. "Go."
Ilunabar flies to Cornerstone with a net full of the Alefprian white giants. She intends to return them to Toun and take the opportunity to connect with him.
Toun is apparently indifferent, but he suspects bad faith in Ilunabar's reaching out to him and gets defensive.
Ilunabar placates Toun by swearing that there is no benefit to her in tricking Toun.
In a sudden shift, Toun teleports them both to the Oath of Stilldeath. He mentions that there is something he needs her help with, but she must sign the oath in order to gain his trust.
Ilunabar implies it would be useless for her to sign it as she had no plans or means to murder a god and that any god that actually tries to harm her is enough of a savage to be an oathbreaker, but she signs nonetheless. She places the signatures of her divas as well, but Toun points out that they would be held to the oath as well, explaining how Chiral Phi signed on Jvan's behalf, binding all of her avatars as well as Jvan herself as they are of the same essence.
For skimreaders: Ilunabar is now beholden to the Oath of Stilldeath.
Toun finally loosens up and thanks Ilunabar. They proceed back to Cornerstone.
Using his droningbirds to show Ilunabar what he has seen, Toun explains a pattern he has observed: Demigods are being created with domains and portfolios strikingly similar to dead gods.
With a back and forth conversation discussing the implications of this, Toun puts forth a theory that explains how the domains and portfolios of demigods come about. It involves three elements:
1. There are 'roles' in the universe that draw divine essence. When a role is not occupied by a god, a new god is born to occupy it. 2. Gods may draw essences out to fill particular absent roles by willing it so. Most gods either unconciously will the essences to fill familiar roles or simply let the randomness of the universe pick for them. 3. Gods can only really will essences to take roles that are a subset of their own role, but two or more gods can combine their essences to will a new essence into a role that none of them possess in full.
Ilunabar agrees to an extent, but she believes a living god can take certain roles too, like her own experience in chasing Vulamera’s lost dream of a great library.
Both are rather excited about this theory, as they could possibly work together to will back a particular concept, ala a fallen god. Toun is upfront in his desire to resurrect Kyre, who has become deceased in intervening time. With Toun's calligraphy and Ilunabar's aesthetic, they *should* be able to precisely will a divine essence into Kyre's previous role to bring him back, right? Right?
Unfortunately, Toun is not Teknall and he proceeds to confirm his theory without testing it beforehand. Ilunabar is too caught up in the revelation and doesn't think to slow down and test the theory properly either, though she does warn Toun about possible side effects of creating a god.
Toun and Ilunabar write their best understanding of Kyre onto two clay tablets. Once done, Toun places the tablets together on his creation wheel and draws out an essence.
A divine being forms. It's not Kyre, as they quickly realise.
Ilunabar is more level-headed about this turn of events, testing the being's personality to confirm that they had made a mistake. Toun is not so patient. He steps forward to strike down the divine being, both to take out his anger at his self-critical insecurities beating down on him and to start over fresh so they can try to bring back Kyre again.
Toun is stopped by two things. First, the new being names himself Thacel, making Toun stop for long enough for Ilunabar to tell him to wait. The goddess’ protectiveness is mostly rooted on her repulsion to wasteful behaviour and the mindset that there were flaws inherent to Kyre that seem to not be present in Thacel.
With Ilunabar wanting to see what was wrong and Toun having to suffer his mistake for longer, Toun gets a bit angry and breaks some tiles. Ilunabar tries to reason with Toun, while Thacel tries to negotiate for his life in turn and ends up inflaming matters. In the end, Toun is swayed by Ilunabar telling him that he's basically murdering for the sake of it at this point and he needs to stop and think about what he's doing.
Toun, suddenly remembering that he's not a fan of divine murder himself, backs off and speaks to Thacel upfront. He tells his new son to improve himself and the world. Make yourself useful, basically.
Thacel is more than happy to oblige. Almost as happy as he is to be alive.
To watch over Thacel, Toun crafts a sword for him that he believes will ensure Thacel's wellbeing and save him making a droningbird to follow him around.
At this point, even though they made progress, Toun and Ilunabar realise that they don't have a solid idea of what they are doing with divine essences, so they agree to part ways and keep each other posted on what they know. Toun is still a grumpy-pants because they screwed up and accidentally had a kid, but he secretly conveys to Ilunabar that he's grateful for her stopping his baby-murder and she can call him up for help any time.
Ilunabar takes Thacel under her wing to take to her repository of knowledge and enact her own designs on him.
Toun tells Thacel that they may meet again. He then tells them both to get off his lawn. End scene.
-2 MP: Creating Thacel's blade, Vigilance. An artifact jian-like sword and radio-baby-monitor-thing. A sheet describing its full details is to come later. -10 MP: Toun levels up to 8 as his understanding of the universe broadens with first-hand experience.
{wew} <Wew indeed. What's on your mind?> (First, stop Toun, then try to convince him, that since Kyre died, there must be a part of him that went wrong. Their work however, was not wrong, therefore a Kyre that did not die isn’t the same as Kyre. Basically "maybe you are too perfect for this") <Well, it's a reasonable argument. By the way, if you feel as if Ilunabar is being railroaded to do anything that wouldn't make sense, let me know. If she wouldn't try to convince Toun not to kill Thacel, for example, we can backtrack a bit.> {She would, no worries. She is judgemental as fuck, and she truly believes Thacel must be better than Kyre since he is HER work, unlike that Kyre that just didn’t seem to do much.} <Fair enough. No wonder Thacel is so arrogant, looking at both his parents, hahaha> {Right? If Logos was involved we would have the whole trinity of ego} <The demigod would be named Gaston>{WEW}
Rekzild hadn’t even noticed when one of the other goblins crept up on him too engrossed on the work he was doing. While the first paragraph had been dedicated to detailing the current scene within the cavern, he had paused as he considered how to start the next section. The humdrum noise created all around him by his fellow newborns slowly faded away to little more than white noise as he focused in on the wall.
’For any who care to read this, my name is Rekzild. I would say it is a pleasure but honestly the likelihood of us actually meeting is slim to none. At the time of writing this I am the same as you, nothing more than a newborn goblin beginning the journey of finding a place in this new world I have been born into. There are some differences between us, at least from what the older one was saying. Aya is her name, in case she is still the one in this position upon your birth. My entire group took longer than usual to awaken, I do not know the cause of this but it is a strange occurrence according to her.’
The only voice that managed to cut through the rabble of the others was that of Aya, and thanks to her speaking the Chief’s voice was heard as well since he appeared just a moment after her words fell. Rekzild did not turn to face the new arrival, instead he simply paused in his writing to listen to him. Curious, apparently they all possessed unique gifts which in itself wasn’t surprising but rather the fact that they all had them was. He hadn’t given it any thought at first, his mind had been on getting away from the rest of the group, but he knew what gifts were along with several other concepts that as a newborn one would think he wouldn’t have access to.
While his thoughts shifted to this “new” information he vaguely heard the others begin asking questions. Naturally he had questions of his own, but he pushed them aside to continue following his current train of thought. As he delved into the innate knowledge that rested within his head he came to realize that it made sense that they had all of this information, it was key to their survival that they have them. Satisfied by this he turned his head around to finally take in the appearance of their Chief. He looked nothing like the rest of them, though this was explained by the Chief himself. Apparently he had evolved a few times from the time he was a newborn like them and was now a Bugbear. Evolution was one of those concepts already known, though the exact process was not firmly in his mind.
With his attention once more given to Kishi, Rekzild thought carefully about the questions he most needed answers to.
”Where can I find some books? From your response to her question about digging supplies would I have to acquire writing materials from the humans as well?” Rekzild’s head tilted to the side as he spoke.
Just for the record I am still here. Rekzild just doesn't have much to say and I didn't want to bore you guys by detailing exactly what he is writing on the wall.
’Too much noise damn it. We just woke up, can’t they keep the volume down for another five minutes?’ Rekzild made a noise of discontent as the thoughts drifted lazily through his mind. The voices of two of his fellow newborns grated on his nerves, more so the first rather than the second. It had nothing to do with the sound of their voices, they were regular enough overall, no it was the simple fact that they were interrupting his attempt at continued slumber.
He rolled over onto his side, his breathing slow and calm in an attempt to mimic sleep. If he was lucky it would fool everyone enough for him to be left alone. A grumble left his lips, knowing that there wasn’t any chance he was going to be able to fall back asleep regardless. With a frown on his ugly, by other creatures standards but average among his own race, mug he sat up and opened his dark brown eyes to gaze around the cavern that was their temporary home.
His lips curled up into a grimace when a shard of light from the outside world struck him directly in his eyes. Lifting an arm he rubbed it against his face, trying to remove the stinging along with the stars in his vision that accompanied it. Blinking slowly for a few minutes he finally stood when his sight was cleared once more.
Rekzild shambled his way over to an uninhabited portion of the cavern but close enough so he could still watch the main entrance. Plopping back down onto his hindquarters he leaned against the cool rock that the cave was made of. From what he could tell nothing of importance was going to occur immediately.
With a little amount of free time available he turned so he was facing the wall he had been leaning on. Looking around he happened upon a rock not too far away. Retrieving it he took to scratching words in the Goblin tongue on the cavern wall, describing the current scene around him to pass the time.
Appearance: He is a goblin, with all the ’gorgeous’ physical qualities that such a creature would have. In other words a four foot tall, horrendous looking and sickly green critter.
Personality: Rekzild is not a social butterfly, or perhaps moth given the appearance of his race, he would rather find himself in the company of the books he has collected than with other Goblins. The chitter-chatter of mundane conversation bores him, though there are a couple Goblins he doesn’t mind dropping by. As mentioned he is a collector of books, and while he can currently only read those written in the Goblin tongue he does have some written by humans that he hopes to read one day. He has a rudimentary moral compass, but there are few things he won’t resort to if needed to obtain a new book. In addition he attends the major gatherings of the village for the sole purpose of writing down the oral stories told, helping him grow his collection. While protective of his books he does let the other Goblins read them, so long as they stay within his line of sight.
(Of course most of this will only apply once he has started his collection. He naturally won’t have one at the start since he will be a newborn.)
Past Life History: Ryan Kurhajetz was an average everyday librarian. There really wasn’t anything special about him. He had a wife he loved dearly, two kids that he adored and a nice little house. He was the perfect picture of a run of the mill guy. The one thing that made him “stick” out was his memory, which was excellent. It helped greatly with his job, he could return every book to its proper place without issue. He lived until the ripe old age of 67 before passing away in his sleep just a week after his wife.
Gift: Enhanced Memory- At the start Rekzild simply has an excellent memory, rarely forgetting a face or voice etc etc. One advantage of this will be allowing him to recall the oral stories if he can’t write them down fast enough. The first step of development after the initial stage will lead to an eidetic memory.
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Mae