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Thread: [M] The Throne of Gods: Memories of Divinity - IC

  1. #111
    Krystalline Moon
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    The voice in his head didn’t relent. Try as he wanted, the voice only grew louder and angrier as the time passed. No matter how hard he pushed to get the voice to die, it was something that wouldn’t go away. Lunae knew he didn’t have the time, but he was unable to stop the voice as it continued. He struggled to get whatever was happening to him to subside.

    Yet when the ground shook for a second time it was enough to bring his attention back to the battlefield. Lunae saw that there was a crater in the ground and that the others were in the middle of a battle. For now, he was not in a fight, and he decided to go and help the god in the creator.

    Riddy was fighting one of the devourers, and it looked like he was having troubles. If one of these creatures has his abilities, then he would need to make sure that it died. He won't allow that woman to have any access to his children.

    Opening a small portal, he pulled out a curved black sword. Jumping into the creator he landed behind the creature, and without skipping a beat he slammed the blade into the ground. The power of the blade activated, and the shadows rose up out of the ground and wrapped themselves around the creature.

    “You look worse for wear.” Lunae said as he hoped the shadows would hold the devourer for a short time. “We need to kill this thing.”

    He engaged in a first aid procedure to repair most of the minor damages to his person. This battle had taken its toll on him, and it was clearly evident in the fact his body was cracked and falling apart. But as he was tending to himself, he saw a god had leapt down into the crater to join the battle. Their attempt? Containment.

    This god, clearly belonging to the woodlands, said something pretty obvious. “You’re a sight for sore eyes, treeman.”

    Out of all the gods, it had to be him. There wasn’t much info on him, according to Riddy’s knowledge. What he did know was enough to confirm that this god was a FIGHTER. And that’s all Riddy gave a fuck about in this moment.

    He conjured up some titanium knuckles and clanked them together, creating sparks. “Sounds good to me. I’LL FUCKING START!

    The God of Industry, for the first time in a long time, called upon his domain to fuel his next strike. In a matter of seconds, an obscene amount of steam vented from his bionic body. This amount of steam caused him to fall forward, but he was betting on this. He used the momentum to take a step forward, lunging high into the air. While at the apex, the steam ignited turning fire as this divine rocketed down; aiming straight for the devourer. “GOOOOOOOO LOOOOOOOOW!


    The odd greeting from the young god was ignored by Lunae. In his life he never did understand Gods and the different ways that they act. He stayed to himself, and concentrated on perfecting his art. He was not much more than a master of forging. He has never used his weapons in battle even though he knows how to use them. Giving a light sigh he just shook his head at Riddy. The young god made the first move, and shot up into the air. It looked like he wanted to end this quickly.

    However, a scream caught Lunae’s attention as he turned in the direction of the devourer. He didn’t have time to react; the devourer closed the distance between them, and punched Lunae in the abdomen. The force caused him to double over as he rocketed to the side of the creator. Dust and debris scattered around as the God of the Forge coughed hard.

    As the dust settled a new crater had been made, and Lunae was already standing. Breathing hard from the impact, golden blood dripped from the side of his mouth. He looked at the creature, but his mind was someplace else. Right before he was struck by the devourer he had seen a green and silver spear where his child had once been. The weapon disappeared right after he had been struck.

    What Lunae didn't realise was the devourer was now holding a short sword. This sword was one of his children. The blade cracked with electricity as the creature waited for Riddy to land.

    He adjusted trajectory, locking in his final descent. He pulled his arm back, and primed a swing. Time was now.

    Ridstus landed like a comet, his titanium knucks coming to meet this beast’s putrid application of a blacksmith’s love and passion. The resulting collision became a flurry of electromagnetism.

    Sparks of electricity danced across the surface of the crater, carving deep into the foul soil. The shockwave caused the crater to expand rapidly by several dozen feet. The dust and debris once more got kicked up, but Riddy did to stop there.

    He kept the pressure by lashing out in a flurry of kicks and punches. It mattered not whether the punches or kicks landed, what mattered was giving the creature no room to counter attack. “GET YOUR ASS UP TREEMAN! GET YOUR HEAD IN THE FUCKIN GAME!” His amplified shouts shook the ground as they battled.


    The battle that raged in front of him sent chills down his spine. He was no match for their speed as he was now. However, he was not going to sit back on his laurels and do nothing. Riddy had sustained quite a bit of damage, and he was still in the fight. Standing tall he wiped the golden blood from his lip, and opened another portal. This time using his blood to open a seal that was in his forge. He pulled out a crystal blade that shined red because of the glow of the magma.

    This bald was able to not only cut through steel but it also was able to magnify the body's natural abilities. Like speed, agility, and strength. Suddenly Lunae disappeared and slid to a stop behind the Devourer, and used the blade to pierce the creature's shoulder. Lunae was not going to show this creature any mercy. As he pushed the blade deeper into the shoulder that was holding the short sword. Forcing the creature to drop the blade.

    “You will not hurt any more of my children.” Lunae said as he hoped this would distract the devourer enough to allow Riddy’s attacks to hit. However, what he heard next made his blood go cold.

    “Silvannus could have done so much better than you. Especially since you hurt him like you did.”

    BAMBAMBAM.

    Each strike landed with succession. The force of each rattled the monster’s body like waves upon an ocean. The thing howled with anger as its terror was halted momentarily by Riddy’s flurry of blows. “EAT THAT BITCH!” A cackle boisterously followed thereafter.

    He then spun and used the momentum of the rotation to kick the devourer to the opposite side of the crater. Its body soared and crashed into the wall with an explosion. And with this distance, Ridstus flipped back to stand side-by-side with Lunae.

    His body was absolutely screaming at this point. They two needed to end this soon, “Hey treeman.. This fight.. I’m almost out of juice.. We have to end this shit within the next thirty seconds...” He finally glanced at him, getting a good look at who it was he was fighting with.

    “Think you can do that treeman??” He saw how this thing was playing mind games with the isolationist god, but Riddy made sure to snap him back to reality.

    He then heard the creature stir and blast its way out of the rubble caused by the crash; revealing itself to the two once more.

    The moment the first strike hit Lunae quickly removed the blade, and got out of the way. His mind was filled with questions at the remark that had been made, and he once again just watched as Riddy continued his onslaught. Why would he have anything to do with that God? He knew nothing other than interfering with others' decisions. He didn’t care about anyone other than what he wanted at the time.

    He didn’t return to the fight till Riddy called out to him. This snapped him back to himself as he turned and looked the other God in the eyes. By the sound of his voice, and the condition of his body it was obvious that he wouldn’t last more than one more attack, and that could be problematic if the creature was not killed. So, The God of the forge made a decision, and it was going to hurt a lot.

    “All we need is one attack from you. However, you might not like what I am about to suggest, but remember it might be the only way to defeat that thing.” Lunae said as he opened a portal once more and pulled out a dagger that looked as if two blades were intertwined as one. Quickly unlocking the blades one black with silver, the other with gold inlays. He quickly explained what the god of industry would need to do.

    “These weapons are used to transfer damage from one target to another. Increasing the force by 100 times the power used. So, once I give the word. Hit me with the strongest attack you have. Don’t hesitate, and don’t hold back. You only have one shot at this. Don’t waste it.” Lunae said as he handed Riddy the crystal blade. It may not completely let him use its power, but it will increase his speed enough to reach Lunae quicker. Then taking the dagger and separating the two blades just as the devourer exited the hole. A voice rang down from the top of the hole and spoke to the devourer to increase its power.

    It smiled a toothy grin as the creature's muscles bulged a little, and flexed. Lunae held the black and silver dagger by the blade. Allowing the blade to cut his hand and be coated in his blood. This was the first step in the ritual that was about to commence, and now the real fight was about to begin.

    Wasting no time Lunae charged at the devourer as he did so he changed the position of the blade that was cutting into his flesh. He was now holding it by the handle, and the blade had a slight reddish tinge to it. The devourer disappeared, and reapered behind the god of the forge.

    “Do you think a useless god like you is going to be able to defeat me?” the devourer said as he slammed its fist into Lunae’s back sending him flying forward hitting the side of the crater once more. Yet the devourer didn’t stop there. It reached him in no time and slammed it fist into his back once more.

    “Silvannus always needed to protect you. You were nothing but a weak god compared to the others. Your only strength lies in your weapons.”

    “You are nothing more than a piece of Garbage that was created by a crazy goddess. What do you know of anything?” Lunae said, ignoring the creature's attempt to provoke him.

    The Devourer turned Lunae around and saw that blood was coming out of his mouth, and he looked to be in pain. Even with all this damage he still wanted to fight. It smiled once more and grabbed Lunae by the throat. Squeezing tightly as it took its free hand and straightening it fingers, and using it like a blade to pierce Lunae’s side.

    “You should know your…” The devourer's words were cut short as the gold dagger was stabbed into the creature's abdomen. This caused it to throw Lunae to the ground as the shock of the damage hit it. The sounds of bones breaking filled the crater, and Lunae chuckled.

    “My weapons might be my only strength, but you ignore those weapons because you think you're superior. That is your downfall.” Lunae said as he stood up, and turned to Riddy. “Do it now,”

    Riddy did not think twice. He had been pouring all his energy into his final strike. Which all came in the form of that steam and heat from before, but now the area immediately around the young god melted into a soupy puddle. He uprooted himself as he grinded forward at Lunae, but the moment he lifted his feet fully, he disappeared in a flash.

    Thanks to the blade’s innate ability, Riddy became a flash of red lightning; streaking across the battle faster than what the devourer could reasonably respond to. As a result, Riddy, with all his strength and stamina, drove the blade straight into the back of the isolationist god. Riddy hoped that by doing this, the gamble would pay off, and it did.

    The damage that Lunae would’ve received was instantly transferred to the other blade that was still deeply embedded into the devourer. As such, that damage scaled exponentially. And before the devourer even realised what Riddy had done, its body suddenly convulsed and twisted. Suddenly, and violently, there was an eruptious, gib-filled, explosion as the heavenly energy found an exit.

    What remained was a hole and parts of the creature sprawled about.

    Ridstus, finally having proved himself a competent fighter, fell to one knee. “I’m...going to need...a minute.”

    He was as still as a statue, the iris of his eyes were gone. And if the god of the forge were to speak to Riddy, he would receive no response. Ridstus, God of Industry, was asleep at the wheel.

    The attack worked at least for the moment. There was no telling what other abilities these creatures have. All he could do was hope that this was the end. Riddy was spent, and he was not at a limit, but now needed to remove the sword that was still embedded in him. The God of Industry was skilled and didn’t hit anything vital. A sad humming sound filled the creator as the sword cried.

    “I know it was hard on you, but it was necessary.” Lunae said as he reached up and touched the crystalline blade that was covered in his golden blood. If the sword had not allowed Riddy to use its ability then this plan might not have worked at all.

    “It is okay. No need to cry.”

    “No, it was necessary. That thing needed to die. Could you imagine what would have happened if anyone would have the ability to make weapons of your calibre?”

    “I can’t allow her to make any weapon she wants. If I didn't do this, she would have access to all of you. How do you think I would feel if she used any of you for her own purpose?”

    The sword quieted down and now he took the time to remove the blade from his chest. It took only a minute, and now he was bleeding, but that didn;t bother him. Standing up he moved to look for the blade that was in the creature. After finding and returning all of the weapons he looked over to the other god he just fought beside. He seemed to be resting, and that would probably be a good idea, but right now it is not a luxury that they could afford.

    The others were still fighting, and who knew if the devourer would stay dead. He took a deep breath as his body was hurting. Lunae needed to at least rest a little. The bleeding would stop in time, but the other damage was beginning to manifest. He walked to the edge of the crater and leaned against the wall sliding to the floor. Relaxing a bit and trying to push the pain to the back of his mind.

  2. #112
    The Grey Lady
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    "Time enough at last..." Marette thought to herself between heavy exhalations and equally heavy inhalations. Calling the breath deep into her lungs was proving a chore, her body ached with no boundary. Every wound, every sore muscle, everything hurt deeply and profoundly. The torture of Hades had taken it's toll on her physically, mentally, emotionally. Gone was the Marette who sat stoically and silently, ever in thought, every watching the planes of men with no desire to lift a finger, only the desire to know more, to learn more. In it's stead was a new and angry Marette. One that resented the abomination that was attempting to kill her and her friends.

    Finally the creature fell silent as it struggled against the ties that bound, the threads that held it's ever more annoying voice at bay. Even Ridstus was a far more tolerable conversationalist than these disgusting abominations that had stolen her power and exercised the Divine Authority of Aegis. The bolts of her time had rendered one of the arms of the creature withered and limp, centuries upon centuries of time had passed for it, and in it's disuse it simply failed to what it had always been, a functioning limb. And in this old age it was almost like the creature had been in part rendered like a baby, a small, pathetic, tiny limb flapping about but to no avail.

    Marette had to act, and to do so quickly, but it was another sound that broke her concentration. The sound of Moriteva's own pained scream as one of the creatures dug into his body. Without a thought in the world her head shot to cast her gaze in his direction and for a moment she could see. The look on his face was one of agony, of anguish. Something was truly wrong and it was not just the physical pain, that was something she knew Mori could endure. This had to be something else. And so, Marette would have to change her plans entirely, and do the one thing she could not deny herself from doing. Moriteva had to survive, at all costs. She cared far too deeply for him and his sacrifice for her to allow him to meet his end this way. What was this she felt to deny herself her own will to survive? Her own right to live?

    "He's not okay... He's not okay. This is not Mori..." Marette repeated the words a few times if only as a final act, a final push to convince herself that this was the right thing to do. "I'm sorry. You're going to have to wait" She blurted the words out, but this time to the creature she had ensnared, and now she was ready to strike. With her palms outstretched she took several pained steps backward. With effortless flicks of her wrist, motions with her fingers and hushed words more bolts of time energy were summoned forth and rained down around the beast, one or two striking it directly in the chest which would cause an outward explosion of temporal energy.

    "Time to do something stupid, Marette." Something Mori and she had once discussed, stepping through time. Marette placed a finger in the air and drew it downward rapidly, a small trail of light following it as she did, and then using her fingers, she placed them inside the stream of light and tore it outward, like opening the doors of an elevator. And just like that Marette disappeared into the fold the light stream dying behind her, and a few seconds in the future she would re-appear behind the abomination struggling with Moriteva, and as quickly as she could, she raised the heavy rod of confluence, her weapon of choice, and channeled through it the chaotic forces of temporal magic, she held it high into the air and brought it down, piercing the creature's back violently as she struggled to force it down in an attempt to complete the job. "GET. AWAY. FROM. HIM." She struggled with her breath but she would not stop, not until she was dead, or the creature was.
    Thanks to Hayabusa/Ryoku for the set.

  3. #113
    The Replicant
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    The Devourer crouched low, coiling like a spring. Visana’s strike had split its cheek into a monstrous smile, making shards of half its teeth, but even robbed of voice it still hungered. Visana rocked from one foot to the other, settling her weight. Her fingers flexed on the hilt of her sword. Come on. Around her the air was howling as magic rended it apart. The ground was heaving, red light pulsing through the cracks as Ridstus and Lunae fought the demon below. Further away Marette stepped through time to batter into the Devourer threatening Moriteva, her staff a crushing arc of lightning-wrapped metal.

    Visana’s head was pounding from where the Devourer had dashed it against the cave wall. She blinked hard, her eyelids gummy with the blood she had smeared across her face. “Come on!” she shouted at the monster.

    The Devourer leapt - face first and at full stretch, almost parallel to the ground. Its ripped cheek gaped, opening its mouth hideously, impossibly wide. As its jaws hinged back to tear into her, Visana threw herself aside, lashing into a spin that brought the starblade thundering into the side of its head. There was a flash like a lightning strike, and again the jolt of a repelled impact splintered up her arms. She felt her own wards throwing her back, and she sensed the thing reinforcing them, as the reaction force vibrated along the invisible tether joining the Devourer to its kin hovering above the fight. Her head snapped automatically towards it even as the first Devourer tumbled past her, screeching. The Silvannus-Devourer was at the centre of a maelstrom, chanting its stolen incantations while the gods struggled to get to grips with it.

    “Atrophos!” Visana shouted, thrusting a finger towards the threads shimmering through the air like moonlight weaving through dust, binding the other Devourers to its power.


    Atrophos dug his heel deep into the cracked chest cavity of the devourer felled by the combined efforts of Visana and him. As the blood seeped from the wound and stained his robes, the God of Decay let out a pleasant content sigh. The bones pressed beneath him started to crumble, the skin curled and popped back from tendons and the skull appeared to sink in on itself. A voice carved through his attention as Visana cried for aid. Her finger thrusting through the dusty air to the devourer in the centre of them all. Hovering over the fight. Words tumbling from its lips as magic crackling in the air around them.

    Concentrating, he could almost see the faint whisps of magic like spider webs, anchoring to the other devourers and giving aid. “Hm” The tut of disapproval left his lips as he bent at the knee. His kneecaps popping softly until his fingers wrapped around a slick clavicle that he slipped free from the rotten casing of the rapidly decaying devourer. Taking one step forward, he left the husk behind as he concentrated on his new target. Flipping the bone between his fingers, he muttered under his breath and felt bacteria sink greedily into the pores of the bone. There was no way that he could actually float up to the creature. Magical means would be reflected immediately. The God of Decay swept his staff in a wide circle before tossing the clavicle high in the air. Curling his staff, he hit the bone square as it fell back towards the earth. The bone crumbled initially but the vast majority flew gracefully through the air and shattered bluntly through the devourer's outstretched hand.

    Visana felt it like the whip-crack of a tether line snapping, and wheeled her attention back towards her own foe. The Devourer was scrabbling to its feet, seeming to stagger for just a moment. Golden ichor spilled from its lips as it let out a blood-thick snarl. Suddenly another explosion rocked the cave, and a crack zagged through the stone under Visana’s feet. The ground began to buckle and slide as Ridstus’ crater grew wider with whatever force was being unleashed down there. The Devourer’s arms wheeled, clawing for balance. Its mangled tongue tried to form words as it slid away from Visana and vanished. Visana raced to the edge, and saw Ridstus and Lunae struggling with their own Devourer as it clawed its way out of the rubble, like something awful being born. Her quarry tumbled and crashed to the crater floor, flailing onto its back.

    Remembering Atrophos’ lesson well, Visana ran her bloody palm along the flat of her sword. Light flowed behind her hand, whisper-script flowing like a river trapped within the blade. She turned the blade, point downward, and leapt.

    She landed atop the Devourer with a jarring crash, and blue light sprayed out in a halo as warded blade met warded flesh. The Devourer’s bloody teeth gnashed together, its hands coming up to wrap around the blade that shivered an inch above its throat. Rune swirls glowed and burst across its chitinous body.

    ...kill you!” her own voice slurred from the demon’s slashed lips.

    Visana shook her head, jaw clenched. “You don’t even know what my power is for.”

    She put the heel of her hand against the sword’s pommel, and drove down with all her might. God-power warred against itself - and then with a burst that shook the crater, the corrupted wards shattered.

    The Devourer hurk-ed, and an arc of burning gold spattered over Visana as it coughed its lifeblood out into the sulphurous air. Visana jerked her blade free. The demon wheezed, blood running down either side of its throat to pool beneath it. And yet, it was smiling through broken teeth.


    Bone fragments were lodged deep within the skin of the devourer that floated high above all. Atrophos watched with a keen eye as the spider web of magic faltered from the hand that had been struck. A smile whispered onto his face as his fingers curled into a fist. Feeling the veins of his forearm tauten as beady eyes focused on that mangled hand. The bacteria newly christened within the body of the devourer soared through its ashy blood stream. A twist of his wrist and the bacteria feasted. First on skin then large chunks of flesh before gnawing into tendons, spider webbing through bone and muscle. The creature let out a hiss of pain, its attention focusing on the threat that stood resting against a wooden staff.

    Before he could react, he felt it. Magical energy focused on him. Holding him in place while light etched into the ground around him. There was no panic. There was no fear. For even as the devourer twisted its bloodied grin towards Atrophos, the God of Decay was certain of one thing. Everything decays. Even magic. Even him. Everything. Fingernails dug through soft flesh as Atrophos’s glare fixed on the creature who seemed to be channelling energy to Atrophos, leaving the others a chance to deal with the devourers without an added magical edge.

    Another ear splitting screech of pain erupted from the devourer. Cracking his neck to one side, Atrophos scanned the fighting cluster of gods. Silvannus was behind them all, words trickling from his lips and tumbling into light within the sand. “Silvannus.” Atrophos called once with no response. He could feel the magical energy from the devourer slicing through his skin. Letting a sigh leave his rib cracked chest, Atrophos tightened his fist before trying again. “Silvannus.” The voice echoed like the toll of a church bell, ringing to alert others that death had snaked within the parish. “Deal with your mess.” His free hand swept up towards the devourer as he returned his attention to the floating creature.

    While the God of Decay could crack within the devourer’s flesh, the magical effect that it was forcing upon the old god was dragging him to his knees. He could only do so much. It was a battle of wills. Who could last longer? Atrophos’s body or the devourers? “Visana.” The God of Decay called to his new partner in arms. “I..I am in need of assistance.”

    Blood stained the lips of the felled devourer. Clawed hands clung to the front of her robes, staining them further with soot and blood.

    “Beware who you put your trust in.” Aegis’ voice hissed up at her, blood rattling between the words. Visana could see the next words, the forming of a name on its cracked lips. Yet the voice of Atrophos dwarfed the dying confession of the devourer. And then just like its predecessor it crumpled and imploded in a swirl of corrupt energy, though the smile seemed to linger in the air for just a second before the un-light faded.

    Visana knuckled her eyes, her skull still thumping. But Atrophos had called for her help. Even as she gathered herself to launch back into the fight, the other Devourer in the crater twisted, glowed, and burst apart in a flash of disintegrating light. As the glare receded, Ridstus fell to his knees in a crash of metal, while Lunae whispered soothing words to a leaf-bladed dagger that was covered in his own blood. Visana paused long enough to exchange a nod and, reassured that neither were in imminent danger, threw herself back up the crater slope.

    A fist clutching the star-blade slammed across the crater lip first, followed by opposing arm and elbow as she hauled herself back up to ground level. Hair clung to her bloodied face, gummed with dust and sweat. A blast of wind flattened her ragged dress against her body, tugging back streamers of hair and fabric as spells and counter-spells detonated in the confined space of the cave. She saw Aegis and Santav pushing forward into the teeth of the gale, fighting towards the levitating Silvannus-Devourer. They couldn’t stop it from holding Atrophos pinned, caught in a web of light that was slowly shredding him apart. Shock cut through Visana like a knife, then fear, then desperate resolution.

    The blade splintered into blue motes as it fell from her hand. Whispering words of starlight, she ran at full speed towards the beleaguered Perisher. Throwing herself at the web, she felt lines of acid heat raking across her skin, scorching her wards. She lunged to wrap both arms around Atrophos, still whispering as she bore them both to the ground. The smell of shrouds and grave dust filled her nose as she went down onto one knee. The god of decay felt so thin, as if any accidental pressure would snap him. She knew him better. As they knelt a pale glow pushed back against the web, backlighting shadows of the wings she had lost. They fanned and then curled, hooding protectively over them both.

    “I’ve got you.” Visana reassured quietly.
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  4. #114
    Immortal Goddess
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    As he hovered complacently to the side observing the mayhem before him, Silvannus couldn’t help the giggle that escaped his perfectly pursed lips. This was all a bit much, but he knew Malphas would do all she could to ensure they were tortured, and to get her point across. His eyes darted across the battlefield as each of his comrades engaged with the threat. Marette, Mori, Visana, Atrophos, Ridstus, Aegis and Lunae. His eyes lingered on Lunae, and as the others fought for their lives, his attention was solely on Lunae, Ridstus and the Devourer they were facing.

    There was an urge that ignited within him. The urge to protect Lunae at all cost. The driving force was so strong, Silvannus found himself floating towards them. It was when Sage spoke to him that his mind snapped back to what was happening. In a devastating display of cooperative power, Ridstus and Lunae overcome the threat that left Ridstus unable to move and Lunae looked absolutely dreadful. The God of Arcana turned to see Marette as she fought against her own adversary, but his senses picked up on something, or rather someone. He could feel something different and his eyes shot in the direction of the two cloaked figures. Although he didn’t see them, he couldn’t help but feel someone watching them. He had no time to investigate as his attention snapped to Atrophos. The God of Decay spoke to him in a way his prized daughter often would, demanding that he take care of his mess. Blinking a few times, Silvannus noticed the Devourer that commanded arcana in such a sloppy and irritatingly offensive manner.

    Silvannus knew if he did not make any movement, if he stood still, someone would die.

    “Let us have a little fun shall we?” Silvannus said to Luna and Sage.

    Just as soon as Marette left her foe, Silvannus took up her space and smiled mischievously at the Devourer.

    “Such an interesting construction,” Silvannus said, touching the Devourer’s head with both hands before it could react. The creature’s mind snapped like a twig as his arcana flowed, sealing its mouth and fogging its mind until iit stood unmoving. Silvannus examined it. From the dark skin that covered its frame, to its eyes, teeth and horns. Marette had done a number on the specimen, and it was deemed too far gone to become any sort of pet or worthy specimen of study. “I am sorry your master sees not the pain she causes, or perhaps she doesn’t care. Even you, a creation of her own, has no place in her future. A pawn. Merely a stepping stone to get what she wants…”

    Silvannus’ eyes illuminated with arcane power.

    “However… I refuse to allow you to suffer because of the affairs of others. Come now, take your rest…”

    There was a humming that split the air, the sound of metal slicing through flesh as Luna and Sage cleaved through the tough hide of the Devourer and perfectly severed its head. Silvannus watched as the Devourer’s form slowly twisted and imploded, littering the area with blood. He held its head close, as if the Devourer was his own child, as if in that short amount of time he’d developed a bond with the creature. A tear fell down his face as the creature’s head soon faded to dust. His vibrant eyes shifted in color as he turned his attention to the Devourer Atrophos had ordered him to eradicate.

    Two adversaries remained.

    Silvannus appeared next to Visana and Atrophos. His eyes lit up with joy as he noticed the spell that kept the two bound. He approached and smiled as he hovered around them like a bee around a flower.

    “What an incredible spell," Silvannus began noticing the looks on both Atrophos and Visana's faces, "but let’s see what we can do with it.”

    He avoided their eyes as he went to work figuring out a solution to the spell that held both the Goddess of Protection and the God of Decay at bay.

    “Voila…. Behold the beauty of arcana," he said, joyfully.

    His hand reached out and touched the light and as his hand neared, the light responded, moving and swaying as if not wanting to harm him until the web of light changed in color and slowly morphed into a beautiful luna moth made of light.

    “There, now do me a favor and send a message for me.”

    The luna moth swirled around those gathered before shooting straight towards the Devourer.
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  5. #115
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    The two cloaked figures watched as the abominations were fighting the rag tag group of gods they had previously feasted on. The power of the creatures was definitely strong. However, the determination of the deities that were fighting back proved to be more than a challenge for the creatures.

    The gods teamed up to fight, and they were slowly gaining the upper hand. However, they were sustaining heavy damage from the Devourers, and it seemed that the creatures were not showing all of their power. There was no way that would be this easy to beat? The Duchess would not send her creations to die. There had to be more to it. Maybe these were incomplete soldiers? Either that, or there was something else they were not seeing.

    “Well looks like they are going to win this fight, but to me these things seem to…” the female voice was saying. However, she stopped speaking as it was not her place to say what she was thinking.

    “Don’t worry about it.” Was all the male voice said as he was watching all of the battles. A devious smile formed on his face as the fight Lunae was involved in was coming to an end. Though something caught his eye. It seemed that Silvannus finally began to move towards the creator. It was almost like he was in a trance, but soon that ended. Especially when the two gods finished off the Devourer. Silvannus snapped out of his trance looking straight at them for only a bit. It was like he could tell they were there but couldn’t see them. Though it didn’t take long for him to write them off and move onto finally helping his fellow gods.

    Silvannus was the only one among them that had yet to fight and had not sustained any damage. Though he has never fought against himself, so it was definitely going to be interesting to see if he doesn't get hurt. However, right now he needs to finish what he came here to do. His attention returned to the creator as a sly grin crossed his lips.

    The two Gods had sustained massive damage from the fight. The god of industry was out for the count, and the god of the forge was in no better shape. He stood up as the hidden smile only grew larger. The god of the forge was ripe for the picking, and it was about time that child remembered his past. His first attempt to free his memories failed because the god is too stubborn when he is at full strength. Now that he was injured and closer to death's door. It should be easier to break. This was one of the reasons they had come to watch the fight. The other was to see the fruits of her labors in creating the ultimate army. It seemed to be lacking, but that didn't mean that it was not effective. The deities were suffering damage from the fight.

    Taking a step forward he dropped off the top of the cave and made his way to the creator. The other cloaked figure followed him not far behind. Reaching the crater with little difficulty or interference they jumped into the hole and landed at the bottom. Looking at the aftermath of the fight it seemed that they were really trying hard to defeat the Devourer. Ignoring the god of industry that was shutdown unmoving and looking more like a junk pile than a god. The cloaked male walked past him to the man leaning against the wall with his eyes closed.

    Lunae had been keeping an eye out, but when the goddess of protection had fallen into one of the cracks of the crater, and killed the devourer she had been fighting, they made eye contact for only a brief moment, and he saw her nodding at him. He nodded his head back, and as she went to help one of the others, he closed his eyes. His body even though he didn't let it show was in bad shape. He was bleeding from two wounds, and he had several broken and fractured ribs. The adrenalin was wearing off, and his body was now beginning to feel the effects of not only the damage, but the backlash of using one of his children. He knew his body wouldn't be able to handle moving at that speed, but it was necessary at the time.

    Relaxing Lunae didn’t hear the god’s land, nor did he hear them approach. With all of the noise he only found that he was not alone when something grabbed him by his throat, picking him up, and slamming him against the stone wall. Opening his eyes he saw the two cloaked figures. The one holding him took one of his arms and held it at his side, just as a green spear materialized, and stabbed the arm embedding itself in the stone.

    Lunae wanted to scream, but he was not able to breathe right with the man holding him. The second figure pulled his arm into the same position as the other, and a second spear struck. Pinning him against the wall as the man moved away. Lunae coughed and cringed as he looked at the weapons that had him pinned. They looked familiar, but right now he needed to find a way out of this mess.

    “This time you will remember.” The male cloaked figure said as the other reached into her pockets and pulled out a vial filled with red liquid. Walking over to the god before he could say a word, she forced his mouth open, and poured the liquid in. Covering his mouth with one hand and blocking his nose she forced him to drink.

    However, nothing happened at first, and the god coughed and gagged at the taste of whatever they just forced him to take.

    “Who are you two, and what the hell was that.?” Lunae asked as he just stood there, his arms bleeding from the wounds that were inflicted upon them.

    “Hmm... I wonder if I need to increase the dose?” a female voice said as she walked over to examine Lunae. Placing both hands on each side of his face she leaned in and began to kiss him deeply. Struggling to free himself from the kiss, suddenly he began to feel a pain unlike he had ever felt before. His struggles became more frantic, as she freed him from the kiss, and an ear-piercing scream left his lips.

    “Looks like it is finally working. To break a spell like these one of two outcomes can happen. He will either be freed or crushed.”

    “It matters not the outcome. He will be useful to me either way.” He said as the spears disappeared, and Lunae fell to the ground in excruciating pain. Gritting his teeth and holding back from screaming he curled in on himself trying to get the pain to subside. His mind and body felt like they were being torn apart from the inside out, and he didn’t even register the conversation between the two. All he knew was pain. Through the pain only one word escaped his lips.

    “Sil…vann…us!”
    Last edited by Yamimoon; 06-08-2024 at 05:36 AM.

  6. #116
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    The Silvanus Devourer watched the approaching moth with a sinister grin. It raised its bony hand, channeling the stolen powers of yet another deity. Two crimson-red constructs of energy materialized beside the Devourer, shimmering with an eerie, translucent light. They took on humanoid shapes, each wielding dual blades of energy that crackled and hummed with lethal power.

    One construct immediately moved to intercept the luna moth. With a swift, precise motion, it slashed through the air. The energy blade sliced into the moth of light, severing it with a blinding flash. The insect disintegrated into fragmented energy, scattering like shattered glass before fading into nothingness.

    The other construct remained at the Devourer's side, its blade poised and ready. The Silvanus Devourer cackled, its voice a chilling blend of triumph and mockery.

    "Your little tricks won't work here," it sneered.

    Santav immediately paused, his eyes widening with realization. “It can’t be…” he muttered, jerking his head towards Aegis and Silvanus. “This Devourer has the power of telekinesis, too! Be on your guard!”

    Right on cue, a powerful gravitational force thrust Silvanus away, sending him sprawling mid-air several feet. The battlefield crackled with tension as the two psychic-energy constructs, blades humming with lethal intent, advanced toward the remaining fighters. Santav, gripping his obsidian lance with determination, stood beside Aegis, whose golden lance mirrored with radiant light.

    Santav lunged forward first, his obsidian lance cutting through the air with deadly precision. The construct met his attack head-on, their energy blades clashing with a fierce, otherworldly resonance. Sparks flew as the Charred's lance struck against the construct's blade, his strength and agility evident in each powerful thrust and parry.

    The construct, however, was no ordinary foe. Its movements were swift and unpredictable, driven by the Silvanus-Devourer's malevolent intelligence. It countered Santav's strikes with a series of rapid, calculated blows, forcing him to stay on the defensive.

    Meanwhile, the silenced Aegis faced the second construct. His golden lance gleamed with an ethereal light as he engaged the enemy. The construct's energy blade clashed against his own, the impact sending shockwaves through the ground. Aegis's movements were fluid and precise, his years of battle experience evident in every swing and block.

    Despite their power and skill, the constructs fought relentlessly, their forms shifting and flickering with psychic energy. However, Aegis seized an opportunity and feinted to the left, drawing the construct's blade aside. With a swift and decisive motion, he drove his golden lance straight into the construct's core. The divine weapon pierced through, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still.

    Then, the construct began to destabilize. Its form flickered violently, and a blinding light erupted from the point of impact. The explosion that followed was far more powerful than Aegis had anticipated. A shockwave of psychic energy radiated outward, enveloping him in a maelstrom of force.

    Aegis barely had time to register the danger before he was hurled backward, the sheer power of the explosion sending him flying through the air. He crashed into the ground with bone-jarring force, skidding across the charred earth before coming to rest in a nearby crater. Dust and debris billowed around him as he lay still for a moment, the impact leaving him disoriented.

  7. #117
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    As the fighting continued to rage outside of the creator the two figures continued to just watch as Lunae suffered under the effects of what the woman had given him. Their goal was so close to being fulfilled/ Just a little bit longer and the outcome will come to fruition. However, the male figure looked up to the edge of the creator as he heard a loud crash and skidding coming in their direction. Watching as the item reached the edge of the crater sliding further across the gaping maw, and then falling to the earth beneath it.

    The impact of the God sent debris and dust up into the air, and in all directions. A smile formed on the gods face under the hood that was hiding his expression. Another of his targets had been dropped at his feet, and no one in their right mind would let a situation like this pass them by. He slowly walked over to the discombobulated god, stepping between the God of KIngs and Lunae who was still trying to fight the effects of what they had given him. His pain voice echoing through the creator.

    “The God of Kings having a hard time fighting such crude creatures. I wonder if you have lost your edge?”

    Aegis gritted his teeth, the taunt cutting through his disorientation. He pushed himself up, his muscles protesting the movement, but his resolve remained unbroken. The divine authority that radiated from him was palpable, a testament to his enduring strength despite the circumstances. And then, he finally broke his Silence.

    "You underestimate the resilience of the God of Kings," Aegis replied, his voice steady despite the pain. He rose to his feet, standing tall despite the dust and debris clinging to his crimson armor. His golden lance, still in hand, symbolized his unwavering resolve. As he spoke, Aegis stepped forward, his divine presence growing stronger. The ground beneath him seemed to respond, the dust settling as if acknowledging his authority. He was ready to face this new threat, to protect his allies, and to reclaim the battlefield.

    "You have made a critical error in thinking this will end in your favor," Aegis continued, his eyes filled with righteous rage. "I will not allow you to harm Lunae or anyone else. Your schemes end here."

    A soft chuckle escaped the man's lips as he looked at the God of Kings. He was as straight forward and filled with confidence like he always was. He never showed weakness. Such a fool he was then and even now.

    “I haven’t underestimated anything. I truly think it is you that has underestimated me.” The man said as he looked at the lance in Aegis’ hand. It was a powerful weapon that rivaled the one that he carried. Made by the hands of the same artisan. Shaking his head he banished the thoughts.

    “Venash, Take Lunae and move him to the edge of the crater.” The man said as he took a firm stance but not pulling his weapon just yet.

    “That is fine by me. I am not going to get involved in this pissing contest.” She said as she walked over to the God of the Forge picking him up, and moving him to the wall right next to them. Placing him on the ground she turned to watch the ensuing fight. She may have called this a pissing contest, but she doubted Aegis would be able to fully handle her comrade.

    Ignoring Venash’s words he eyed the god of King’s. He seemed full of energy. However, looks can always be deceiving. He was always strong, and when defending his beliefs he is even stronger. However, times change.

    “If you think that you can interfere in our plans you are sorely mistaken. Let’s see if your blade has dulled any?” the God said as he began to approach Aegis. The God of King’s authority didn’t scare him. If he was going to use it he would have already. When he was about five steps away from Aegis he summoned his jade spear bringing it down on the god.

    As the man summoned his jade spear, bringing it down with a fierce blow, Aegis reacted with the speed and precision of a seasoned warrior. He raised his golden lance to intercept the attack, the clash of their weapons sending a shockwave through the air.

    The force of the blow pushed Aegis back a step, but he held his ground. His eyes locked onto his opponent's, a fierce determination burning within them. "You forget," Aegis said, his voice steady, “My blade never dulls."

    With a powerful thrust, Aegis pushed back against the jade spear, using the momentum to launch a counterattack. He swung his lance in a wide arc, aiming to unbalance his opponent and create an opening.

    Taking a couple of steps back as the God of Kings pushed back on his weapon he anticipated the gods next move and ducked under the lance. He then rolled to the side out of reach of the weapon. He stood up, back-to-back with Aegis.

    “It seems like you haven't lost your edge.” The god said as he held his spear at his side. “Yet at the same time you are not like you used to be.” The god said as he turned to face his opponent once more. Quickly closing the gap between them the god unleashed a series of quick strikes with his spear.

    Aegis felt his opponent’s proximity at his back but stayed calm. He cocked his head slightly but formed a sly smile at his opponent’s comment about not being like what he used to be. “You can certainly say that,” the warrior chuckled, casting a sideways glance and upholding his smirk. “I’m a bit of a changed man, these days.”

    As the god closed the gap, unleashing a flurry of quick strikes with his spear, Aegis moved with the agility and precision that came from centuries of combat. He deflected the first strike with a swift twist of his lance, the impact sending sparks into the air. “You speak as if the past defines me.”

    The next attack came fast, but Aegis sidestepped, his golden armor glinting in the dim light as he narrowly avoided the blade. “Yet…” He circled his opponent before the next strike, carefully positioning himself.

    Each movement was calculated as a dance of divine power and skill. Aegis parried another strike, feeling the force reverberate through his lance. He countered with a quick jab, and their weapons clashed again, a symphony of metal and energy echoing across the battlefield. As the sparks raged, Aegis’s defiant eyes locked upon his opponent. “I am forged by every challenge I face, every victory and defeat. I am stronger now than ever before."

    Each time the weapons struck one another the weight of the strike, and the emotions behind them became stronger. It may have looked like a dance to anyone who was watching, but it was a duel between two Gods that specializes in battle. Neither of them gave an inch nor left an opening for the other.

    “You say you are stronger, yet your blows seem weaker.” The god said as he blocked a lunging attack that was aimed for his shoulder. The lance cut through the cloak revealing a green and gold material. Using that moment he pushed off Aegis’ lance and landed about ten feet from the God. Aegis, meanwhile, took a few shifting steps to his left, and then a couple back, building distance as his lance readied in a battle stance.

    “It is almost like you are not taking this fight seriously. Are you trying to buy time for the others to finish off that creature? So, they can come and help you? If that is the case, oh how the mighty have fallen.” the God taunted taking his spear and pointing the blade to the ground in front of him like he was going to charge forward. However, he waited for Aegis to make the next move.

    Aegis turned fully to face his opponent, planting the butt of his lance firmly on the ground, the weapon standing upright against the burning sky. A confident smile spread across his face, only growing wider at the man's taunts. “You’re actually quite perceptive, Morax,” Aegis stated, revealing that he knew the identity of his opponent. “At least in your initial assessment, you’re right—I’m not taking this fight seriously. My true goal,” Aegis glanced back at the other deity, the goddess who held the unconscious Lunae captive, “was to get into the perfect position.”

    Standing at the crater’s center, Aegis shifted his stance, ensuring both Morax and his companion were within his range for the brunt force. “Flee,” he commanded, his voice ringing with the power of his Divine Authority. Radiant flames illuminated his eyes, as the God of Kings and Rulership issued his decree.

    Both Morax and his companion were suddenly gripped by an overwhelming fear that grew from their cores and spread throughout their bodies. The visage of Aegis became terrifying, his very presence seeming to threaten their annihilation, reducing their beings to dust in the cosmos. To them, Aegis was not just a monarch; he was the King of Destruction.

    Morax didn’t have time to react to the statement made before Aegis used his authority to force him and his partner to leave. A gripping fear overtook him as he stepped back, his spear disappearing as he continued to take even more steps back. Even Venash moved away from Lunae who was no longer conscious. Her entire being was shaking in fear as she turned to run. However, she stopped in her tracks not moving an inch.

    Morax also stopped moving backwards as his eyes glazed over and became lifeless. Suddenly a smile formed on his face as he began to laugh. Removing the hood that covered his face he looked the God of Kings in the eyes with his golden ones. His long green hair was placed in a ponytail. He began to walk towards the God of Kings. Anyone that was paying attention would be able to tell that something changed within Morax. Continuing his momentum forward he stopped a couple of feet from Aegis.

    “Your ability is stronger than I thought. Such a unique ability. No wonder you are respected among the denizens of Order.” The man said as he just shook his head. “And like all the gods that follow Luthious you like to stick your nose into others business.” Morax said as he circled the god. Not caring if he made a move or not.

    “You should have minded your own business.” Morax gently touched Aegis' shoulder from behind. “Don’t get in my way. You have nothing to do with this.” Morax said as he released the god’s shoulder. Walking back to the front he decided that this would be enough for now. He would come back for the two when the time was right.

    “I will retreat for now. Though, you might want to abandon protecting everyone. You will have a hard enough time protecting yourself from the events that are to come.” Morax said as he had hoped, he kept Aegis' attention on himself while he used Venash to do something to Lunae. “We will finish this one day soon. I am sure your rival will enjoy himself when that happens.”

    Aegis’s golden eyes narrowed at the sudden change in the visitor's demeanor. He listened as the vessel complimented his powers. “And yet, my ability is still taking effect,” he said, his gaze tracking Morax as he circled him. “The fear effect is affecting the physical body, but clearly, Morax is no longer in control. So who are you?” His voice was steady, but the underlying threat was unmistakable.

    With a dismissive wave of his hand, Aegis continued, “Actually, it is no matter. Clearly, you are afraid since you are hiding behind your two minions.”

    He straightened, his posture regal and unyielding, his eyes locked onto Morax’s. “If you have nothing else to say, then your other vessel has about three seconds to remove her hands from Lunae before she finds my spear piercing through her heart,” he declared, his back facing Venash, and his voice echoing with that deadly promise.

    Venash removed her hands from Lunae and backed away from the god. As Morax chuckled slightly at the threat. He bowed slightly to the god of Kings. “Temper, temper. Oh God of Kings and Rulership. No sense getting worked up about what I am doing. If the god of the Forge survived what has been done then all is well. If not, you will have your hands full with the events that are to come.” Morax said as he walked backwards from Aegis. Keeping his eye on the god to make sure he didn’t attack.

    “You never stood a chance. Just remember not all god’s play by the same set of rules.” Morax stated as he reached Venash wrapping his arm around her waist and used the strength of Morax to jump out of the crater. From there they left the battlefield, making their way back to the arena.

  8. #118
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    Through the stalemate between deity and beast, Moriteva normally would have found a strange poignancy in the conflict. Two opposite forces, unable to bypass one another in either strength or cunning. Both of them, locked in an endless and pointless fight for dominance that neither could retreat from, for doing so would result in certain death. The Devourer’s claws dug deeper into his shoulder as Moriteva stood his ground, refusing to relinquish even a mote of energy as the fight for the others’ life force raged on. He knew not how long he stood, refusing to stare the demonic entity in the eyes, but he knew it felt like nigh on an eternity. He could only imagine the struggle everyone else was going through, but this was his battle. He would hold off this Devourer until the others could assist, if not longer. If that was his contribution, then he would be glad to provide it. He only knew he couldn’t dare look directly at his foe and risk an early demise.

    That was the plan. Fortunately or not, a soft shimmering caught his attention, and he glanced over the Devourer’s shoulder, noticing a rippling pulse of light where nothing ought to be. Through this strange pulse stepped a very angry-looking Marette, raising her rod of confluence in an attempt to skewer the Devourer through its chest. “Marette, wait-” Moriteva cried out in an attempt to stop her from her attack, but his warning came far too late. Moriteva abandoned his grip on the Devourer, letting its claws rake against his arms as he leaped out of the way of the incoming rod that burst through the Devourer’s chest with little interference, tearing a hole through it without any serious resistance. The Devourer screeched in pain, writhing in its stony prison as it was pinned to the rod now sticking out of the ground like a javelin. Moriteva quickly healed the new wounds that arose from sickle-like claws tearing the skin on his arms asunder, but couldn’t rush to the Devourer in time to stop what happened next.

    The air behind Marette crackled with malevolent energy as a black ripple in the air began to form. The abnormality pulsed and groaned before a sudden clawed hand burst through the seeming nothingness, and a second Devourer ripped its way through the timestream behind Marette, emerging with a vicious screech and a clawed swipe, knocking Marette away from its trapped self. Moriteva felt fire overtake his systems as he rose to his feet, panic emerging in the usually stoic god. “MARETTE!” Moriteva rushed faster than he believed he’d ever run before, rushing to her side and kneeling before the Goddess of Time. Her wounds did not seem severe, thankfully; Moriteva gently placed a hand against her, letting his energy flow to ease the pain and close the skin. He couldn’t fully heal her in such a short timeframe, but he could at least keep her golden blood from spilling further. He only had a few moments, during which he stood over her defensively, making sure no further attacks took place.

    The second Devourer was more intent on rescuing itself than pursuing the pair. The original Devourer managed to break free of the stone prison encasing its legs, picking up Marette’s rod and fully ripping it out of its chest, leaving a gaping hole dripping black, corrupted blood on the stone beneath it. Moriteva stared at them both as one growled at the other, pointing at the two gods before the other nodded. It seemed they had come up with some sort of plan between them. If that was the case, they had to come up with a plan as well. Both Devourers had a hole in them, so differentiating them was important…

    “Marette.” Moriteva spoke calmly once again, his emotions having calmed as he took a deep breath. “This Devourer has your abilities. It likes to speed itself up to make its attacks nearly unblockable, but it’s predictable. However, it seems to have taken some of our talks and applied them…” He mused carefully, folding his arms as he helped her to her feet. “Do you remember our conversation about leaping into the past and time paradoxes?” While there were now two Devourers to contend with, only one was actually a problem. “If we kill the original, the newcomer should cease to exist. The one that’s still bleeding is the one we need to target.” Moriteva shook his head. “You’re not the only god it’s been feeding from. If we’re going to kill it, there’s really only two ways I can think of. Either we drain it of its life energy, or we cut the bastard’s head off…”
    ---

    Everything had happened so quickly. The Goddess of Time violated one of her own rules, she had acted impulsively. She was driven by feelings she hadn’t known she had to move as swiftly as possibly to protect Moriteva. A selfless act was likely not truly selfless, but now was not the time to be introspective, to try and dissect her motivations. In the next moment as the flicker of energy burst forth behind her, she was thrown aside like a common rag doll. Her slender frame violently clashing against her surroundings.

    But there he was, in an instant, Moriteva was by Marette’s side and used the wealth of his powers to stem the tide of her golden blood. One might have almost called it romantic. But now Marette had clarity, she could see the two devourers standing and pointing, finalizing their plan. One was positively dripping with temporal energy having stepped backward through time in an attempt to free itself and vanquish its enemies.

    The Goddess of Time nodded her head as she heard Moriteva’s words. A smirk crossed her face and a small chuckle fell across her face. “Explaining the nature of a temporal paradox to me?” Marette knew how this went, kill the original, kill the future version, easy. “Tell me one thing… who the hell is it, Mori?” Marette was preparing from the oncoming assault, perhaps the details weren’t necessary, but either way she hadn’t the strength to defeat this, she needed to set it up so Moriteva could. She needed to be a perfect distraction.

    Marette prepared herself and stepped forward. “You think you know my moves? Prove it.” Marette shouted at the Devourer who had made a mockery of her abilities. Her arm outstretched and her palm lay flat, the tips of her fingers curling inward beckoning it, taunting them to come forward. Moriteva had taken the brunt of the damage, it seemed natural that it was now once more her turn. Within seconds the Devourers two had launched forth, charging toward her. Like flashes of light they seemingly appeared and vanished, slipping through the folds of time to reach her and Moriteva.

    With a flourish of her hands she unleashed a bevy of orbs filled with temporal energy, proverbial mines floating within the air just waiting for her targets to reappear in the wrong spots, once more to slow them down through the art of time dilation. The original and the devourer out of time moved in from opposing sides. All she needed in the moment when the Devourer came in contact was to grab it and reach out she did as swiftly as possible. Pulling it back into the loop of time, over and over again.

    Seconds, moments, fleeting glimpses into their assorted worlds and lives. Never spending enough time to cause a ripple in the pond and change the events of history itself. The effects of stepping in and out of these brief windows was dramatic to those who hadn’t experienced it. Certain tricks she had learned over the many centuries of life were foreign and out of touch for a Devourer or so she would hope. To step back into the moment they had left, exactly as they had left it, Moriteva had an opportunity to strike, while the specter of the future so too resumed its assault on her.



    While one might have easily construed the question of ‘who’ as asking which Devourer they were supposed to target, Moriteva knew Marette wasn’t questioning the obvious when he’d just explained it. No, she was asking who else the Devourer had partaken of. Moriteva folded his arms, a stern look on his face. It wasn’t often he hid something from Marette. “We can talk about it when we aren’t in mortal danger. Just do me a favor and don’t look it directly in the eyes, alright?” Moriteva’s frown did not falter; it was evident he was serious on the matter. For the moment, he wondered just how he’d get to the Devourer in the first place. Mori’s inherent failing in combat was that everything he did was incredibly short-range. Not having any capabilities to hit enemies at a distance left him at a disadvantage in situations like these. He shook his head as he thought, though the way Marette took up a combat stance indicated she had an idea.

    Moriteva watched as Marette laid a trap, orbs of temporal energy beyond even his comprehension launched into existence around them. This did not deter the pair of Devourers as they made their attack. Moriteva could not follow them with his eyes; either they moved too quickly, or stepped in between fractions of a second in time. Either way, suddenly and unexpectedly, both appeared in front of them and leaped in their direction…only to vanish and reappear where they once stood, leaping into action once again. The process repeated, again and again, the Devourers launching attacks destined to return to the start, like a skipping record. Moriteva watched the Devourers carefully for a cycle or two, knowing it wouldn’t be long before one of them figured out the ploy.

    Moriteva took calm steps around the temporal minefield, striding with purpose towards the Devourers’ original starting point. He studied the original’s stance, musing to himself about the perfect position to place himself. After a moment, as the Devourer leaped into action once again, Moriteva knew what to do. As the pair leaped at Marette, Mori thrust his arm out, his hand held open in a reaching gesture. As the Devourer reappeared, it did so directly around Moriteva’s arm, the body painfully squelching and moving around the sudden displacement in time and space that should not have been there. Moriteva had sensed correctly just where the creature’s horrid life beat-its blackened heart encased deep within its exoskeleton. Moriteva’s hand, wedged deep in the Devourer, now clutched the heart as it beat, fighting against his grip to keep pulsing the Devourer’s black blood. He squeezed tighter, letting his life-siphoning abilities go to work, their potency increased with his direct contact with its source of life.

    Try as he might, however, Moriteva couldn’t crush the heart, its blackened skin tougher than solid steel, much like the woman he knew its impossible durability was based on. It screeched and roared in pain at Moriteva, swiveling its arms in an attempt to reach him. Mori walked backwards, dragging it away from its counterpart. “No, no. We’re going to have a nice chat.” He continued to fight the creature’s life drain with his own, his own strength growing bit by bit as he continued to drink life energy directly from the heart. The Devourer, however, had other plans. With sickening cracks and snaps, the Devourer’s bones shifted and broke, wedging its own arms out of place to swivel around well beyond the means of any normal bipedal creature. Its broken limbs flailed at Mori, the claws catching into his back and drawing a pained grunt from the Warden. They dug deep, raking gouges into his flesh as the Devourer writhed, doing everything in its ability to prevent Moriteva from ending the job. He continued to walk, depriving it of its companion, but he bit his tongue to keep from crying out. Seeing his blood spill would be bad enough…if he cried out, Marette’s concentration would only break further.

    The Devourer of the future, meanwhile, came to a pause as it was about to leap at Marette once again, the absence of its partner apparent even as it thought to attack. Seeing the sudden minefield in front of it, the Devourer disappeared with an ugly crack that shuddered the foundation of time itself. A moment later, two more Devourers stood before Marette, more shimmering claw marks appearing behind them as additional iterations from the future threatened to break onto the temporal plane. Four menacing clawed limbs tore at Marette, seeking to rip the goddess limb from limb as the sounds of the laws of time beginning to shatter echoed through the volcanic area, the Devourer’s unending fury and murderous determination threatening to break down the foundation of the worlds themselves in its single-minded pursuit of Marette.

    -
    Each shift in the timeline tore through Marette. Her heart beat faster and faster as the chaos filled her and began to ooze from her every pore. These creatures, these abominations were making a mockery of her powers and setting the timeline of the future ablaze. Order was breaking down as creatures were pulled from all manner of iterations of the future. Each one stemming from another choice that could have been made, another answer to the simple question “what if?”

    “ENOUGH!” Marette cried with all the force of thunder, sending temporal energy forward like a tidal wave. But it was too late. The claws of the foul demons before her had pierced her flesh, tearing her through as though she were paper. Golden blood spilled, wasted. With the wave came a great pause in the battle, a pause that fell over every last participant, every last deity if only for a single moment. Marette frozen, her head leaned back, her face contorted in absolute horror as every last nerve ending in her body succumbed to pain.

    Shallow was her breathing, her chest rising and falling almost imperceptibly as she regained control of her body, slowly pulling herself off of the claws of the creatures stopped before her. The clock was ticking. They wouldn’t stay put for long. When she was finally free she let out a gasp of pain as her eyes cast downward to the holes in her flesh, as she could feel the force of her life escaping her. Had Marette finally been pushed too far?

    Lurching forward with staggered steps, Marette rested her hand on the first of the Devourers of the future which had stabbed her, and within the blink of an eye the pair were gone. Destined for the future from whence it came. Visions of a world where things had gone very differently. The scattered carcases of the deities strewn about in a sea of golden aether. And here in the hellscape of what could be, she would let go of the Devourer and vanish as quickly as she came, only to make contact with the next version from the future.

    Slipping in and out of Time was getting harder as Marette slowed with each passing moment, it was like gasping for air and finding none. But nevertheless she would repeat the process of returning each future version to its own time, knowing full well that the time dilation they had stepped into, and the wave of temporal energy that washed over them would fade. The clock was ticking faster. Only the original remained, and Moriteva was in lock with the creation of hell. Trudging forward to retrieve her staff, the rod of divine confluence she pushed through the pain and the dizziness. And with the last of her strength she attempted to push Moriteva aside and sank the Rod with all of her dwindling might into the cavity Mori had created, just piercing the heart, but that would not be enough to kill the creature.

    Long fingers like tendrils had wrapped around Marette’s waist and lifted her into the air just enough to put the two face to face. And the one thing Moriteva had warned her of was before her. A foul gaze and Marette had not the strength to look away. Marette’s eyes and those of the Devourer were transfixed on each other. In the last moments before losing control, her eyes would have widened as she finally discovered exactly who was staring back at her.

    “It cannot be…” The words faded, trailed off as Death was made manifest, and her mind had become a prison of fantasy. A fantasy that seemed and felt and was now her reality. Trapped in an illusion in which Marette was alone, save for the cloaked figure before plunging a dagger directly into her heart. Over and over and over again. A single moment lived out in perpetuity, the sound of laughter echoing louder and louder. A symphony of pain and no end in sight. The Devourer held her, but now Moriteva had his final opportunity to end it. A distracted target, and nothing else to contend with, not for a few moments. He had to act, and to act quickly.

    -
    In a moment, Moriteva felt he had the fight under control. Walking the Devourer towards the crater as it flailed, even as his body screamed from every gouge, every impact the creature made. He could put an end to this. Put an end to the threat and return to help the others. All he had to do was tear off the infernal thing’s head. All there was to it. And in that moment, Moriteva felt confident he could achieve that end.

    In another moment, everything had changed. He could have sworn he’d heard Marette shout, but in an instant he found himself a few feet away, his grip on the Devourer shaken free and Marette’s staff in his place. Moriteva stumbled backwards, noting several ugly-looking wounds marring her usually pale skin, darkening it with golden blood. The Devourers of the future were nowhere to be found; Moriteva realized then Marette must have silenced the flow of time to correct the mistakes in front of her. But now, with her trapped in the original’s grip, her eyes glazed over as she was forced into the Devourer’s thrall…

    “No…” Moriteva knew what would happen next if he allowed it. His every muscle flared with a sudden burst of fiery energy as adrenaline compelled him to act. He rushed behind the Devourer, his hands locking under its scaly, decrepit chin. Moriteva fought against the creature’s inhuman, ungodly strength, pulling and twisting with all the borrowed might he could spare, doing everything he could to force it away, force its head to come free from its body. The struggle may have been just a few seconds, but to Moriteva it felt like an eternity. An eternity spent trying to save his closest friend.

    Another pained grunt, and Moriteva found purchase, an unearthly crack resulting in the Devourer’s head forcefully swiveling back to face Moriteva. Caught off guard and in severe pain, the Devourer’s shriek pierced his eardrums as it tried to break the Warden’s grip. Moriteva, his head down and his teeth grinding against one another, persisted. Just a bit further…a little more…His muscles strained even with his enhanced strength, as the Devourer seemed to resist every physical attempt to break it. He kept pulling, fighting against every inch of retaliation, until with a visceral sound that made bile rise to his throat, combined with a particularly loud shout from Moriteva, the creature’s head flew off its neck, flying twenty feet into the air before arcing down into the crater. The body slumped and began to fall, its appendages releasing Marette from its grip. Moriteva caught her before she collapsed to the ground; as he watched, her grievous wounds disappeared one by one, the futures that caused them now ceasing to exist as the past had been slain.

    Moriteva heaved a large sigh and a smile came to his face. Marette was safe. That was what mattered. He gently cradled her in his arms; while the wounds were gone, healing trauma was beyond his capabilities. He glanced to his right, where he spotted the remainder of another serious battle taking place, much of the rest of the group taking on the lone Devourer remaining. Of course it’d be the Silvannus. Of course. In spite of his wounds, Mori felt he could still fight, but with Marette in his care, it was likely wiser to remain out of sight and act as the healer he was. With that in mind, Mori stood at the lip of the crater, gently sliding down its wall to its center. There, he was greeted by a most peculiar sight; Ridstus laid inoperational in its center, a steaming hunk of metal that Mori couldn’t fathom whether the god was alive or not. Not that he could heal a machine anyways. The Devourer’s head, fittingly, had landed atop Ridstus’ own, leading to a comical-if dark-bleeding skull for a hat. Aegis stood, battered but still otherwise in decent shape, at odds with a pair of hooded gods. Moriteva narrowed his eyes, trying to recognize the pair, but one jumped off with the other before he could get a chance, leaving…Lunae.

    “What in the worlds…happened here…?” Not that Moriteva had to be looking much better, his hempen cloak torn to shreds, his body leaking blood from several wounds, and an unconscious-but otherwise nearly unharmed-Marette in his arms.
    Last edited by Iwazuma; 07-10-2024 at 01:48 PM.
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  9. #119
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    Silvannus hovered close to Visana and Atrophos, wanting to make sure they were okay, but his attention didn’t diverge from the Devourer that contained his abilities. Malphas must’ve taken his flesh when he originally came to her realm and was taken to the chambers. Had he known what she would have used it for, he would have done better to protect the gift that was his and his alone. The Devourer would need to be destroyed to ensure balance within the realms. As many deities that existed, none of them crossed paths when it came to the gifts that they were bestowed.

    Silvannus did not expect what would occur over the next few moments. As the moth neared its intended target, the Devourer utilized gifts that could only be explained by realizing Malphas had more prisoners than them who had succumbed to the dragon, whom the Devourers had feasted on. The psionic power displayed beautifully as two humanoid creations spawned. Each wielded a blade, and one of them cleaved the moth in twain sending a shockwave of energy outward. Silvannus was caught in the shockwave, but managed to recover swiftly, floating around studying.

    He watched as Aegis managed to destroy one of the constructs only for it to explode, sending him across the lava scorched surface like a bullet from a gun. Silvannus tilted his head, concerned for Aegis. He would have gone to his aid had his attention not landed on Santav and his fight with the remaining construct. Silvannus approached the Devourer and sighed.

    “Is this truly what you wish to do? You truly wish to die in this unbearable place? I dare say I have no choice but to engage in this series of unfortunate events. Very well then….. Let’s play!”

    There was no doubt that the longer this battle took, the more the Devourer would uncover more of his power and the harder it would become to destroy it. Silvannus knew that in order to defeat something based on him, he would need to uncover its weaknesses, which would be identical to his own.

    Arcane energy hummed as it flowed through the realm. Silvannus could see the veins beneath the surface, within the sky, around every fabric of reality. The arcane was his domain, it was his to wield, it was his to burden and there was no other fit to do what he did. He shot forward, hands ablaze with arcana. This Devourer was doing whatever it could to keep them at bay, to put distance between them. Silvannus intended to delete such space.

    “Great Creator, I will ensure swift erasure of this abomination. Lend me your strength.”

    Slamming his hands together, one orb appeared, then another, and another. As he continued to barrel towards the Devourer, the orbs continued to spawn around the Devourer, Santav, the construct and Silvannus. Silvannus intended to tackle the Devourer head on.

    The Silvanus Devourer watched his nemesis’s approach with a mixture of amusement and malice. As Silvanus summoned his arcane orbs and barreled forward, the Devourer tilted its head, its eyes glinting with a dark intelligence "Ah, Silvanus," the Devourer intoned, its voice dripping with condescension, "still so predictable. Do you truly believe you can erase what you are facing here?"

    The Devourer raised its hands, and the air around it shimmered with raw power. "Your arcane prowess is impressive, but you forget—I have the same gifts, the same powers," it sneered. With a flick of its wrist, the Devourer conjured a barrier of psychic energy, a shimmering dome that deflected the first wave of Silvanus's orbs. The barrier rippled and wavered under the strain but held firm, its translucent surface distorting the view of the battle within.
    "You speak of balance, of the Creator's will," the Devourer continued, its tone mocking. "But what if this is the new balance? What if the Creator has chosen to bestow these gifts upon me, to merge the powers of the divine into something greater?" The Devourer's voice grew more sinister as it drew power from the ambient energy around them, enhancing its constructs and strengthening its defenses. "I am no mere abomination. I am the future. I am evolution."
    "Come then, Silvanus," it hissed. "Show me the full extent of your power. Let us see which of us truly deserves to wield these gifts."

    The Devourer extended its hands, sending tendrils of psychic energy snaking towards Silvanus, aiming to entangle him and disrupt his concentration. It was a battle of wills, of raw power versus raw power, and the Devourer reveled in the challenge.

    "Let us play, indeed," it whispered, its voice echoing with a chilling finality.

    On the ground, Silvannus moved, hovering beneath the Devourer and the copy it was fighting. He placed his hand firmly against the scorching hot ground and closed his eyes. Nullification Spells took their toll on him, but for this, he would gladly utilize gifts he kept secret. From his core, arcana seeped into the ground. He had originally placed a spell circle onto the ground, but now he needed to activate it and that took power, dangerous power.
    The clone would be a distraction while Silvannus concentrated on activating the spell. As the arcana seeped into the spell circle, it bloomed, spreading across the ground like a virus, creating an unseen barrier.

    “Sage, reach out to Santav and tell him to keep the Devourer busy.”

    Sage immediately took the quickest route to Santav, appearing at his shoulder.

    Santav is it? My master would like for you to keep them busy if possible.

    The Devourer formed a psychic spear, courtesy of the Goddess of Mind’s powers, and launched itself into the air. With a precise thrust, it struck the clone of Silvanus. The form shimmered, the illusion breaking as the clone dissipated, reverting to its true form: an animated fan named Luna. The clone had served its purpose, merely a distraction from Silvanus’s true goal.

    Realizing the celestial's plan, the Devourer glanced down with a vicious smile curling on its lips. It knew the weakness of such powerful spells: disrupt a single rune in the spell circle, and the entire incantation would either dissipate or, worse, reverse its effect. The Devourer hoped for the latter, aiming to turn the God of Magic’s spell against him.
    Channeling the same psychic spear with blazing purple energy, the Devourer hurled it towards the ground. Enhancing the weapon’s speed with the powers of the Mind, it launched with the force and swiftness of a lightning bolt, aimed directly at the edge of Silvanus’s spell circle.

    However, the Devourer paused as its keen eyes noticed multiple shadows on the ground. “What?” it muttered, glancing up just in time to see its psychic construct being grappled by a hovering Santav.
    The Charred’s golden eyes bore into the Devourer, who realized too late that real Silvanus had served as a mere distraction, allowing Santav to get into position. Earlier, Santav had responded to Sage with, "Actually, it would be better if your master is the one that keeps him busy…"

    His trust was in Santav now, for after Sage had delivered Santav’s response, Silvannus changed his course of action and instead acted according to what he believed Santav could accomplish. He played the part, acting as if he were concentrating on activating the spell circle, Sage and Luna floating nearby. Luna was arguing with Sage on her part in all of it. How much the psionic lance hurt and how it would be Sage’s turn next time.

    “I believe you stole this from Kavi,” Santav stated, his voice cold and unwavering. “But I suppose I should return this to you,” he added, thrusting his obsidian spear into the construct.

    As before, the psychic construct began to destabilize, its form flickering before a blinding light flashed. An explosion of energy erupted, the shockwave impacting the Devourer at point-blank range. The force of the blast launched the creature towards the ground, causing it to crash and land prone near Silvanus.

    The explosion was intense. Sage and Luna panicked, wrapping Silvannus in healing ribbons in an attempt to shield him.

    “I am fine,” he coughed. He noticed that the Devourer had suffered from the force of the blast. This was his chance. Silvannus, with the strength he could muster, shot forward like a cannonball and just as the Devourer returned to its feet, Sage and Luna had transformed back into battle fans. Silvannus and the Devourer exchanged heavy blows, and with each successful strike from the Devourer, a new wound opened on Silvannus’ body. Dark chaotic energy slowly seeped from Silvannus’ wounds. The Devourer plunged a psionic spear deep into Silvannus' abdomen. Silvannus grabbed the Devourer’s fist and twisted, breaking the arm like glass. He slammed both of his palms against either side of the Devourer’s head and allowed the creature to peer into his soulless eyes.

    “Chaos. Shall. CONSUME!”

    The sinister power that had once displayed, found itself present again amongst the gathered and with deadly strength, Silvannus decapitated the Devourer. He continued to hold its head until it dissipated, his wound seeping more and more blood as the power of chaos blossomed. Silvannus blinked a few times and his eyes returned to normal. Luna and Sage hovered close to him asking him repeatedly if he was alright as the psionic spear vanished.

    “I’ll be…” Silvannus paused as he noticed Santav and quickly appeared next to him. “Oh my darling child, I’m incredibly relieved to know you’re alright. Do you need anything? Are you hurt?” Silvannus began examining Santav ignoring his own deep wounds as he reached to pinch Santav’s cheeks.

    The Charred displayed fast reflexes, grabbing Silvanus’s wrist to stop him from pinching his cheek as he had done several times before, treating Santav like a pet. Santav cast a sideways glance at the God of Arcane, his face stoic but his golden eyes keenly observing the dissipating chaotic energy. There was a hint of recognition in those eyes as if he understood the nature of the energy before he returned Silvanus’s gaze.

    “Bringing back that mongrel, Baldramort, will not fill the Void in your soul, Silvannus,” he stated firmly before releasing the deity’s wrist.

    Nothing could have prepared him for the words that came from Santav’s mouth. Baldramort, his uncle, the very man who had protected him, trained him, and gifted him with knowledge of chaos, the same man who had done such terrible things while he was alive. Words formed and vanished in his mind as he tried to think of something to say in response, but there was nothing until pain began to slowly cloud his mind.

    “I’m not sure what you mean, Santav, but I…,” he paused, lowering his wrist.

    Sir, your wounds Sage said.

    “Thank you for your….” Silvannus swayed slightly not realizing how much blood he’d lost. He stumbled and Luna quickly wrapped around him, but it was too late. His vision faded swiftly as his body collided with the ground.
    “Lu…nae….” He called weakly to him, the god of the forge. The man he wished to hold, to touch, and breathe in his scent. He didn’t understand any of the emotions that filled him in this moment, but all he wanted was to find Lunae. He scoured the area, looking around without any concern for his own safety. His eyes locked on Lunae. He was at the edge of a crater, unmoving, and Silvannus attempted to crawl to his forgotten lover, but pain responded with every move.. He slowly reached out, a single tear slowly cascading down his face. “Lu..nae….”
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  10. #120
    The Replicant
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    Silvannus appeared next to Visana and Atrophos. His eyes lit up with joy as he noticed the spell that kept the two bound. He approached and smiled as he hovered around them like a bee around a flower.

    “What an incredible spell," Silvannus began noticing the looks on both Atrophos and Visana's faces, "but let’s see what we can do with it.”

    He avoided their eyes as he went to work figuring out a solution to the spell that held both the Goddess of Protection and the God of Decay at bay.

    “Voila…. Behold the beauty of arcana," he said, joyfully.


    Visana steadied herself with one hand against the ground as the web transformed and the pressure against her wards vanished.

    “Well,” she snarked to Atrophos as the god of magic darted away to engage the final devourer, “At least someone’s having fun.”

    * * * * * *

    Battered by force and by magic, the cavern finally fell silent. Visana released Atrophos and, with an effort, rose. The phantom wings hooded around them fanned back and then began to dissolve, unravelling into glitters of starlight. She helped the Perisher up so that they were eye to eye. His hand against hers felt strange - dry, and she could feel every bone and sinew beneath the skin, but not as cold as she had been expecting.

    “Thank you.” the goddess murmured softly. “For trusting me. And for helping me to trust you.”

    Wearily, she cuffed the golden blood from her cheeks and forehead. Her face, and the back of her head, were still throbbing from where the devourer had smashed her against the basalt wall of the cave. By the looks of it, many of the other gods had come off even worse. Moriteva, still carrying the unconscious Marette, had slid down into the crater to help the others, leaving just Atrophos, Silvannus and Santav back at ground level with Visana. Santav was steadying the god of magic by the wrist, but his face was stern. He had heard the words echo through the cave as the final devourer burned to ash. They had all heard them.

    Chaos. Shall. CONSUME!

    Most gods drew their magic from their own bodies, and by extension from the creatures and natural phenomena that gave them form. In Visana’s case, it was the thoughts and deeds of humans, and the instincts of the creatures that had preceded them. But Silvannus drew his power not from one part of the world, but from all. The light and the dark. And with so much potential scattered back into the void, as gods were slain up on Earth and elsewhere…

    Chaos. Shall. CONSUME!

    Visana had not seen Baldramort fall. She had been a thousand miles away. But she had heard whispers, from stranded celestials and from the demons who had been her captors. Some said that Baldramort had fallen to a united front of god-kin; others that his own newborn son had struck him down. The only thing they agreed on was that the Prince of Chaos was dead - and had left yet more of it in his passing.

    Chaos. Shall. CONSUME!

    Visana looked at Silvannus, but saw instead the devourer she had killed, lisping through broken teeth and slashed tongue. A mere shadow of Aegis’ voice of command. Beware who you put your trust in.

    Visana gritted her teeth - of all those she might trust, a demon created by the mistress of illusion should be the last. Feet dragging, she crossed over to Santav and Silvannus. She tried to help, but the god of magic just slipped to the ground and began to mumble deliriously.

    “Santav,” she said quietly. “What do you mean bring him back?”

    Visana glanced at the Charred with his stern face and coalfire eyes, which seemed to know things that the rest of them did not, and reflected that even though they had just fought side by side, she and the others still did not know who he truly was…or what his goal of freedom meant.

    “I think it’s time,” she said after a moment, “For you to tell us all who you really are.” Or were.
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