Prior to the Masquerade Ball in Arthuran, in the Grove south of the Grand City

Sharay had given Aurora, Goddess of Spring, her word that she would do what she could to save her sister Elysia's life against the Spider Birvuo, and she had kept her word. Alas that did not stop Meristali from spilling the Winter Goddess' blood, seemingly ending the life of Elysia. Sharay was not such a fool to believe that the Alerian Goddess of Death, no matter how insignificant Sharay believed to her to be, could so easily defeated, and once the body disappeared and the snowy vortex appeared to signify Elysia's victory over the Birvuo, Sharay considered her task finished.

The Grove had turned into a frosty wonderland of crystallized ice and snow. It was breathtakingly beautiful, but Sharay was not interested in the ethereal landscape. She was here for one purpose and one only, and she stepped away from the carnage to view Blend approaching her. Those onyx orbs glittered dangerously at the skeletal figure. Tempesturo's Champion or not, Sharay would have no problem whatsoever reducing Blend to nothing but bone fragments and simply taking what was 'borrowed' from her, but now was not the time or place for such a tearful reunion. A coy smile played upon full red lips. “I'll be seeing you soon...old friend.” Sharay simpered before vanishing from sight.


Arthuran...Northsea Manor/The Masquerade Ball

Arthuran was a frozen desert wasteland as far as the Goddess of Chaos and Death was concerned, hardly suitable for sub-humans much less a goddess, yet here she was. Cold hardly affected her, but still the Goddess was wrapped in furs as she lurked in the shadows near the home of Verial Akilara, Lord of Arthuran. Ah Verial, only you could fall into a steaming pile of dung and come out smelling like a rose, she mused as she watched Verial socialize through the windows of the ballroom.

Sharay entertained the idea of attending the Masquerade, and honestly could have done so without being detected by anyone, but truly what was the purpose in doing so? Clearly she could view the Lord Verial from her vantage point. Her keen gaze sharpened, her brow furrowed as her eyes narrowed when her 'daughter' appeared on the balcony, seemingly in poor health from the looks and sound of it. A tiny smile crept upon her lips as she listened to the young woman retching off to the side, hopefully unnoticed by others. Sweet Deanna, rejoice my love. Your sickness means your offspring is healthy and growing. How lovely. Dark pools rolled in their sockets as she noticed Verial follow Deanna outside in an attempt to comfort her, and finally had to turn away in disgust the moment they embraced. Enjoy the moment now, child. It will not last.

Sharay could be patient. She would wait, and that was exactly what she did. Until the time was right. Which took forever, or so it seemed.

The festivities had died down and many were heading, or rather wobbling and talking rather loudly, into town to their respective taverns for the evening. Sharay was paying close attention to a particular figure clutching a jar to his bony chest. Thickly lined fur boots sunk into the snow covered ground as she followed Blend in his ridiculous 'costume', and after a while of trailing him undetected, Sharay grew bored. The Goddess stopped in her tracks and whistled an intricate high pitched tone, drawing the attention of Blend who slowly turned to regard the sultry Goddess.

Sharay smiled beautifully as she sauntered over to where Blend stood, her dark curtain of hair glistened with flakes of snow that fell in a steady drift.

“Hello Blend,” her voice was low and throaty. “Interesting choice of costume, dear.” She eyed the jar that contained a few coins and other interesting pieces that had been offered to the skeleton in disguise. Sharay cocked her head to the side as her smile faded, but it was not hostility that drew the look of seriousness onto her face, simply one of curiosity. “Tell me Blend, that day in the Grove when sadly our little reunion was cut short...were you planning on giving me something? Perhaps something that you were holding onto for safe keeping until you could return it to me?” This time Sharay did smile a little as she held out a slim pale hand toward Blend.

"The doll, Blend. I'll be having it now."

After leaving the ball, Blend felt himself digging deeper into the darker chambers of his mind and memories. An aura of self-loathing wrapped around Blend as he wandered aimlessly away from the Masquerade Ball, uncertain where he was headed. And that was at the heart of the problem, wasn't it? Blend never knew where he was going. He just went. He had no friends, no enemies, no objectives, no desires. His utility in macabre events, such as the scene which was witnessed in the 'Crystal Grove', seemed wasted. Indeed, he was only a weakness for the deities, one which the Almeddans had eagerly exploited in their attempts to slay Elysia.

What was his purpose, then? Tempesturo might know, but the god seemed inclined to let Blend figure this one out on his own. Blend found his thoughts returning inevitably to his origins, to the frightening entity that waited for him in Chaos, eager to betray. If anything, Blend had to solve the problem plaguing that disembodied spirit named Fingers, the man who claimed to be the other half of Blend's torn soul.

Such thoughts were drumming through Blend's head as he moved aimlessly, unaware of Sharay as she followed Blend through the cold streets. It wasn't long until Sharay grew tired of watching the skeleton, and a beautiful whistle echoed through the streets as the Goddess of Death and Chaos made her presence known. For once, Blend found himself pleased to see Sharay, if only to draw him out of his self-reflection.

The pleasure faded rapidly as Blend recalled the agony that Sharay inflicted on him, when he tried to save Deanna from the ethereal prison Sharay had constructed. The memory of pain was so vivid and intense that his skeletal fingers clenched into a fist as he studied the goddess.

Of course, Sharay was here for one obvious reason, and she made her motivations crystal clear as she thrust out her flawless hand, demanding the soul-snare that contained her essence. Blend's laugh was cold and calculating.

"Your essence?" Blend began rummaging through the hundreds of pockets that his beggars coat contained. "What makes you think that I will just give it to you? You forget, Sharay, that I owe you nothing. In fact, I saved your life, disregarding all those vicious attempts you made at turning my soul into confetti.." He patted the pockets in his sleeve, searching. "Really, you're in debt to me, and a proper business man doesn't go making new deals until the back-pay is settled." Opening his coat, the skeleton's fingers continued to check each hidden pocket. "So let's have us a sit-down and come to some terms, or I'll be keeping what the gods gave me."

Exasperated, Blend gave up his search and offered Sharay a helpless shrug.

"Besides, I forgot where I put it."

The Goddess of Chaos and Death regarded Blend with those deep pools of unblinking darkness, yet said not one word in response to the skeleton's claim of misplacing the remainder of her essence that had been filtered by Valorius, just as she had. This particular bit was completely pure, restored to its original untainted state of being, and the Dark Goddess wanted its return. Seconds ticked by into minutes as she bore her onyx gaze into those empty sockets of his, until finally Sharay commanded abruptly.

“Walk with me.”

The Goddess did not wait to see if Blend would comply as she set off into the nearby woods at a slow even pace. She knew the skeleton had nowhere else to go, and curiosity over her rather bland reaction would get the better of him. He would follow. He was, after all, a servant of Chaos and of Death and therefore bound to the ties. Despite the chilling and bitter cold, the moon was full and cast its silvery glow over the many conifers that decorated the snow covered landscape.

Sharay's voice was soft when she spoke to Blend who, although keeping a distance from the Goddess, fell in line as she strolled, weaving through the tree line. “Before we speak of the misplacement of the soul snare, allow me to enlighten you on a few matters, Blend. Firstly, you made your own choices in life, and one of those was to come to the swamps that day with the Aliscowri, just as you chose to liberate them when they were scheduled to be destroyed for their crimes. You went against the traditional 'moral righteousness' because that is in your nature to do so.” Sharay paused for a moment to glance at Blend, a wry smile upon her lips. “You were, after all, the Avatar of Death itself. One may shed his skin, so to speak, but that does not change his nature no matter how much he protests or denies the truth.”

Fur covered boots sunk into the snow once more as Sharay continued walking. “You lament over your purpose in life even as you can claim to be that idiot Tempesturo's Champion, but ask yourself this: Exactly what are you a Champion of? What purpose does Tempesturo serve when it comes to Chaos?” Sharay laughed some. “He, like his siblings, are useless deities to the realm and the fools who serve them.” The Goddess tilted her head into consideration. “Perhaps Elysia has some worth, a pittance amount really, but it is there. I saw it, as did you in the Grove.” Sharay clucked her tongue. “To go from Avatar of Silenti to...,” Sharay gestured to Blend, arching a raven brow. “Erm...yes, well..."

Sharay stopped in her tracks once more to face Blend, flinging her dark mane behind her shoulder. The Goddess leaned against a towering pine. “As I said before, you chose to come to me. You chose to follow me, and therefore can fault no one for your actions but yourself. Whether you wear armor or skin, whatever name you chose to go by, does not change who you are and you, my dear Blend, are a servant of Chaos and Death just as my sweet Deanna is.” Sharay waved a hand dismissively. “She denies it as we speak even though she was shown by Djarin the truth of her own personal nature, and as you attempt to do so now, blames others for her fate.”

A cloud passed over the moon casting the forest in darkness and shadows then. Sharay's serene features hardened and her words were laced with icy coldness. “Do you truly believe that had my child wanted with all of her heart, her soul, to stop me in some manner, that she couldn't have? It is true that I was stronger than she with my will, but you have met my Deanna. She is not without her own personal strengths and convictions. Fierce.” Sharay smiled bitterly. “Perhaps she could not have forced my will to break, but she could have bent it in some manner. She did not. She chose not to. Why? Because of the lure of darkness, Blend. She claims it, just as you do, but denies it and is disgusted by it, as are you.” She plucked at the heavy furs that draped around her form. “It is the same concerning Verial. He could have stopped me. He could have prevented so much death from occurring. He chose not to.”

“I watched you, in there.” Sharay jerked her head toward the Villa. “I watched her run from you as well.” The Goddess chuckled. “It was not fear of you that drove her away in a frenzy, Blend. It was 'the knowing' that struck panic within her. That knowledge of what surrounds you...what surrounds her. All beings are born knowing the chaotic nature and the darkness that is inside of man's black heart, but some like you, like my Deanna, are destined to be a part of it always. She was reminded of her time in Chaos. It is why she ran to him, to Verial.” Sharay snickered at the thought. “Touching wasn't it? Such affection between the two, some cosmic force that drove them together.” Sharay laughed suddenly. “That force was me. They are bound together by chaos and by death, and as such are drawn to each other. Do not let Verial fool you. He is capable of great destruction and has demonstrated it in his past, and though he may regret his deeds now, that regret will not wipe the stains from his soul. They are children of Chaos just as you are. They have tasted the darkness they harbor and are able to wield, and are drawn to it. I admit though he is better suited for her than the vampire, whom I loathed.” Sharay shrugged as she smiled to the skeleton. “I veered off topic for a moment. Forgive me dear.”

“You claim you saved my life, but the truth is Blend, my life did not require saving for I cannot die. However I was not without my own taint, and it was Valorius through his rather unconventional methods whom restored my balance, so to speak.” Red lips twisted into a smirk. “Though I deplored him at the time for it, I suppose now I am grateful for his intervention. No Blend, you did not save me.” She kicked at the snow with a booted foot. “You must admit though, had it not been for me and the events that followed, you would have remained ignorant of your identity, Xezvimhi.” A beat or two was followed by”You're welcome.”

Sharay smiled brightly and clapped her hands together. “Back to business. You have something that does not belong to you, as it is and has always been mine. Therefore, there is no 'pay back' as you put it. It simply does not exist.” Sharay lifted a hand to examine her fingernails. “Now you tell me that you have misplaced something of great value, something that could be used as a weapon should it fall into some worthless being's grasp and expect me to believe that? You are not that stupid, I think. Personally, I think this is just a feeble excuse for you to remain in my company, which I completely understand.” Her lips tilted into a quirky smile, and gestured for Blend to follow her. “You wish to discuss matters. Fine, but we shall not do it here. Someplace warmer, I think.” She looked at him in amusement. “I would take great care if I were you, Blend. Brittle cold bones are so easily broken, are they not?” The Goddess grinned deviously as they made their way back toward town.

The steep and jagged buildings of Arthuran crouched above the narrow streets, empty windows peering down with a silent curiosity as two unlikely figures spoke of death, chaos, and spirits bound in sticks. Snow drifted through the glacial winds, settling on rooftops (and shoulders) only to be shrugged off, sent forgotten to drift down to the frigid land.

Blend's steps crunched over the snow while he studied Sharay. The grinning mask of the pauper hid beneath it a smooth and expressionless skull. Not unlike the mask, his skull was eternally contorted into a grin, but there was little humor in Blend's soft voice as he responded at last to Sharay's veiled threat.

"Crush these bones, go ahead, and grind them into bread to feed your appetite, I wouldn't mind. I've had three bodies in the last year. A change of scenery wouldn't hurt." Blend tried to sound more confident than he felt. The fact was, this skeleton was his true body. The human that had died before, and the bundle of sticks he'd visited Verial with, were only temporary vessels. By contrast, there was no guarantee that his skeleton was temporary. If it was destroyed, would his soul be able to flee to Chaos, therein to make for himself a new body? Or would he be chained irrevocably to the remnants of his body, forced to witness eternity from the perspective of dust?

To his credit, Blend anticipated Sharay and suspected she wouldn't kill him - not until her essence was reclaimed, at least.

"It's funny," he said after a moment of silence. "You and I really are a lot alike. I never realized it before. It's true, I was Silenti's puppet. And to you, it seems I've traded Silenti for Tempesturo, that I'm still a puppet.. But, I am beginning to realize something, something Djarin showed me so long ago but which I'm still trying to grasp. There's.. an absolute order, in this world. In me. Every action I've ever done has forced an opposite reaction.

"And what happens when I apply this to atrocities, like the Aliscowri? It hasn't happened yet, but I see what is inevitable. The death they spawned will be repaid with life, glorious and pure life. Something wonderful will form from that horrendous mob, something of my design.. And this, Sharay, is where we are different in truth. You embrace death and the chaos it breeds - chaos formed from resistance and the inevitable victory of Life. You plot revenge and petty designs that show you hardly understand what's at stake here. I embrace Chaos, in its true form, devoid of death or life. There is a balance, you see. Chaos isn't only death. It's everything.

"I could've let those Aliscowri die. I could've burned your soul-snare in a heartbeat, in the presence of Gods and men, and we would've killed you or bound you to eternal suffering. But that would've done nothing to redress the balance, to restore Chaos to its rightful place. I did what no one else would do, because it had to be done." He shrugged, sending another flurry of snow to the ground as it fell from his shoulders. "You could be such a wonderful Goddess. You've breathed Chaos, you know its touch and texture. You could guide the worlds down a path of eternity. Instead you wish to slay, slaughter, and destroy this delightful reality. Why is beyond me.."

He reached into his cloak and rummaged through a pocket tied to his hip. The leather pouch contained several bizarre artifacts: the eye of a Gulawrath, a stone of igneous rock found at Galenous' Fall, a crystallized C'udiskan beetle found at the Crystal Grove, and finally.. Sharay's soul-snare. This last object was incredibly simple, utterly failing to represent the power it contained. A bundle of sticks, crudely bound together in twine, carried enough energy to blow the entire town to rubble. Looking at Sharay, Blend wondered what he was doing. Was he really redressing an imbalance? Or was this his attempt at causing a new imbalance? He wasn't sure.

"A funny thing about possessions.. You claim this bundle of sticks is yours, that I cannot possibly possess it. Yet here it is, in my palms. I could burn it up, you know? I could let all that free, innocent energy flow into the universe, forever beyond your reach. So is it yours? Not yet. It's still mine." His voice grew cold and hard. "I need your help. I need to kill someone. It's your forte, isn't it? So let's trade. An eye for an eye.. or in this case, a soul for a soul."

The wind howled bitterly, tearing the snow off the buildings and leaving them naked in the darkness. Flurries of white danced around Sharay and Blend, eavesdropping with anticipation on their discussion while Tempesturo's Champion awaited a reply.

"Crush these bones, go ahead, and grind them into bread to feed your appetite, I wouldn't mind. I've had three bodies in the last year. A change of scenery wouldn't hurt."

The Dark Goddess rolled those glistening pools of onyx. “Don’t be so dramatic, Blend. It is unbecoming,” she murmured with a soft drawl. Sharay had no true intention of destroying the skeletal Champion, at least not currently. If anything, she found the bony man amusing. The sad part was that Blend was not afraid of the Goddess of Chaos and Death for he believed he held a trump card. Arrogant fool.

The Goddess stood casually as the snow fell harder, fat flakes drifting faster than the eye could see upon the duo who were foolish enough to remain outdoors in the drift. It wasn’t that the weather affected Sharay, it didn’t, and from what she could see neither did it Blend. The cold and snow were more bothersome than anything else, and Sharay pushed her irritation aside as she listened to Blend’s vocal musings.

He spoke of Chaos and of balance, both of which she was quite familiar with especially after the time spent with Valorius, but after a while the Goddess grew bored and glanced toward the Villa, idly wondering what her child was up to. Most likely cutting herself and sobbing about how unfair life was.

It was only when Blend turned the focus of the conversation toward Sharay did the Goddess turn her head in interest once more to Blend. How curious, she thought. In one breath he actually said very flattering remarks about her, which caused her to truly take into consideration the earnest words spoken. Of course Blend had to spoil it by threatening her. Was he mad or simply had a death wish?

The Goddess narrowed her eyes at him and took a menacing step forward as Blend held the soulsnare in hand, tempting her with what she desired most. She could feel the pulse of dark energy flowing through her form. It would be so easy to fling that darkness at Blend, laughing as it consumed it. Not even Tempesturo would be able to protect Blend as his current form would burn in the fires of Chaos. Sure Blend would be able to replace it eventually, but the satisfaction of bringing that smug bastard to ruin would no doubt bring Sharay endless months, if not years of pleasure. Blend would temporarily cease to exist, and she would have the soulsnare back in her possession.

Sharay was in the process of sending Tempesturo’s Champion straight to the abyss of hell, when the next words Blend uttered saved his life, or at least bought him some time.

"I need your help. I need to kill someone. It's your forte, isn't it? So let's trade. An eye for an eye.. or in this case, a soul for a soul."

Sharay wasn’t sure whether to throttle him right then and there or laugh in his face. The Goddess adjusted the furs that enveloped her lush form, her gaze stony. “Do I look like an assassin for hire to you, Blend?” She snapped as the winds began to howl. Her nostrils flared in anger, but after a moment’s consideration, the Goddess visibly calmed, a faint smile appearing on her lips.

“I had every intention of killing you,” Sharay folded her arms over her breasts. “However you have piqued my curiosity with your request.” She waited a beat or two before dramatically sighing. “Very well, my skeletal friend. We now have a binding agreement. I will take care of whomever it is you wish dead, and you in return will give me the soulsnare that contains my essence.” Sharay nodded once. Sharay and all she represented might be hated by so many, but if her word was given, she kept it at all costs.

Sharay’s arm shot out faster than perhaps Blend was prepared for, and she snatched the mask that covered his skull, exposing his true form as she tossed the mask onto the snowy ground. The Goddess of Chaos and Death held out one palm as she slashed at it with the nail of her index finger on the opposite hand. Blood from the wound and she flung it at the skeletal figure so that it splattered against bone, the crimson fluid seeming to come to life as it weaved its way into Blend’s empty eye socket before disappearing.

Sharay smiled beautifully to Blend, the gash on her palm already healed and restored to its perfection, and she helpfully offered an explanation for her action.

“Insurance, sweets, in case you decide to renege on our deal. I simply bound you to me until the job is finished. A soul for a soul, as you put it. Once complete, you will hand me the soulsnare and I will then free you. My word is my bond, Blend.” Her smile faded to reveal the seriousness on her face and within her eyes.

“Now, exactly who am I killing?”

Bones creaked as Blend's skull turned to examine Sharay, that lustful Goddess and newly contracted assassin for hire. Dark pits spattered with blood seemed to stare through Sharay as the skeleton prepared to announce the unlucky bastard who would be her victim.

Should he trust her word? It was questionable, to say the least. There was no love shared between the pair. Yet, he had to admit.. everything Sharay did was consistent with what she said. Was she good at manipulation? Absolutely. But she was also proud, and proud in that uncertain way which demanded proof. So, by virtue of her vanity, her word might be trusted. Obviously, Sharay wanted to see his bones turned to dust, but they both knew that was an imperfect murder, and besides.. Blend had greater ambitions.

"I want you to kill the Tiger Birvuo."

Chaos.. it's such a funny thing. So fickle. So demanding.

There was a catch, but when was there not? Sharay had her rituals, her binding pacts and crimson signatures. Blend had his own way of hooking the fish so he could reel it in, wide eyed and squirming towards its fatal destiny. They now had an agreement, and Blend knew that Sharay would see it through. A soul for a soul. But Blend wasn't a soul - not a whole one, at least. He was incomplete.

Xezvimhi and Katrophe, Blend and Fingers... Together, they made the Tiger Birvuo. In many ways, they were a living representation of Chaos. One balanced the other, chained irrevocably to their destinies and actions like tortured prisoners in light-less cells. This impervious bond between them first intrigued Blend, until he understood what it meant in its full potential. It meant Blend was incapable of changing anything. Every life he saved was another life slaughtered. There was no net gain, no way of advancing. He was still at square one, and had been for thousands of lost years. It was his blessing and his curse.

Perhaps it had taken true amnesia for him to understand the only solution to this vicious cycle. The problem could be solved.. With one final, vicious act. With one cruel Goddess who was capable of disturbing that balance.

Deanna understood what it meant to sacrifice oneself... What one could achieve. Djarin was a testament to that. The man had proven, beyond doubt, that selfless admiration for the true nature of Chaos was a path to immortality and redemption. "My brother," Deanna had called the mad prophet. Yes, she could understand.

If death creates life, what does it serve to fear death?

He left these things unspoken. Instead, the skeleton growled in a bitter voice, "Let's get this over with." He flourished his hand and a burning wound screamed into life before the pair. Blend glanced briefly at Sharay, then walked into the howling inferno. For a fleeting moment, as his ragged cloak caught on fire, the haunting skeleton was a perfect fit for the scene beyond the doorway. He'd opened a rift into Chaos, where Fingers waited. He'd opened a rift into Hell.

Gods forgive me.

--

Being an immortal has its perks, 'Fingers' thought to himself. If a man can learn to appreciate those potent moments of inspiration, the exciting periods where creativity pours like an unending stream through the parched mind, he can tap into enough incredible potential to make the gods envious. For another thing, an immortal has plenty of time to master his trade, so the work that flows from his hands is flawless and incomparable.

Katrophe had been busy. Ohh, busy as a bee. Machines to build, energies to harness, worlds to create. It didn't help to play God without having a few tools, and he'd turned this little corner of Chaos into his latest project.

Agatha's wooden hut was cluttered with cogs and bits of metal. Devices littered every table, chair, or bed in the building (which was essentially three rooms - a main common room and two bedrooms barely big enough to fit your hand into).

The old woman and hostess herself was on a rocking chair on the porch, silently scowling at Katrophe as he rummaged through the debri. Glancing at Agatha, Katrophe returned the scowl, his golden eyes narrowing. "Don't give me that look. It's not like you were usin' this table anyways." He grabbed a few objects and headed away, leaving Agatha behind before she could nag him.

At his machine, he had another visitor and another impatient scowl.

"Sorry about that, Djarin. These should do the trick. We'd better hurry up, he's almost here."

--

When Blend stepped through the rift into Chaos, he wasn't certain Sharay would follow him. But he knew who would be waiting for him, within this realm. Somehow, he wasn't frightened - even though he knew there was death behind him and death before. Sharay was right, after all. Death was an inimical part of his nature, and of hers.

For a brief moment as he moved through the portal, the world around him, within Chaos, was a blazing inferno. Heat seared at incredible temperatures, and Blend took a few moments to get accustomed to the scenery around him. Amazingly, there were figures in the blaze, and as Blend's eyes adjusted, he noticed a man - unharmed, grinning, with long black hair and pale skin - waving him over through the maelstrom as if the flames didn't exist.

Taking a step forwards, Blend left the fiery doorway and absorbed the scene before him.

The first thing he noticed was the hut. He knew it well. He saw the building for the first time outside of the Grand City, when he liberated the Aliscowri. They hid inside the ruined building briefly, and it was there that the undead werewolf had approached them and sent him on his path to meeting Sharay. He revisited the hut later, after Delorah killed him to use his energy to breach the Grand City walls. This second visit was as a spirit within Chaos, where he met Agatha, the true owner of the building. The hot-tempered crone made for him a soul-snare not unlike the bundle of sticks that housed Sharay's essence, so he could warn Verial. A third visit here was during his talk with Katrophe, a personal and uneventful affair that failed to explain the distorted landscape this hut was housed on.

The hut was positioned on a hill, but Blend wasn't certain the hill was made of land at all. Metal protruded from the mound, shifting and hissing with urgency as gears churned against one another. Pistons pulled and pushed, releasing puffs of charred ash, their metallic arms heaving against circular marble plates spaced around the sagging building. These beautiful polished stone slabs held archaic symbols which glowed coolly in the midday sun, but more disturbingly, they held bodies.

Fingers, better known as Katrophe, was standing near one such body, waving Blend over with frantic glee and hollering loudly. Blend had different ideas - he was close enough to see the details and had no intentions of getting closer. That mangled mess was completely dismembered, the marble stone it rested on streaked with glimmering blood. It had the meticulous handiwork of a surgery, with each limb and organ separated carefully from the next, the skin peeled back to expose vital parts.

Tearing his vision away from the sight, Blend looked towards the porch, where he saw another bloody scene.

Ohh, Agatha...

If it wasn't for her rocking chair or the bundle of sticks clenched in her bloodied hands, Blend wouldn't have recognized the old lady. The poor woman didn't deserve what this madman had done to her. But who was responsible? Was Katrophe the killer? Or was Blend?

Katrophe, laughing from the distance, called towards Blend. "Look! I took his eye! He was blind and I took his eye!"

Blend glanced towards the portal, impatient for Sharay's presence. As if she would protect him. Hah!

"I want you to kill the Tiger Birvuo."

Sharay arched a dark brow at the proclamation, yet despite the rather surprising death request from Blend, the Goddess of Chaos and Death did nothing more than nod in understanding. She did not question or comment, nor did curiosity get the better of her this time. They had an agreement, plain and simple and Sharay would stand by it.

"Let's get this over with."

The doorway into Chaos was created and opened by Blend, and Sharay’s lips twitched some in silent appreciative surprise. She had not been aware that Blend could create a dimensional portal, much less into Chaos itself, and she added that unusual tidbit of information to her memory bank. The heat that emanated from inside the doorway was intense, but like the frigid cold that they stood amid, the heat was not intolerable to the two even as flames licked at Blend’s cloak.

“As you like,” Sharay demurred as Blend descended into Chaos, the Goddess taking her sweet time following him. Heat that was capable of scorching and melting skin greeted her as they entered the infernal abyss. The Goddess shrugged out of her furs and stepped out of her boots, leaving the garments in a pile to await her when she chose to depart. Sharay was left garbed in the long diaphanous black skirt that swirled around her ankles and nothing else. Ashen striped tattoos covered her bare torso, arms and legs and her hair hung in a midnight curtain down her back. Her bare feet did not burn or blister as she walked across the bubbling surface, her palms pressed together before her face and she dipped her head in greeting and respect to those who resided in the flames. Servants of Chaos they were, and they responded in turn as the Goddess acknowledged them.

The scene changed then and Sharay found her gaze fastened upon a hut that was nestled upon a hill made not of earth it would seem, but a living hill made of steel and metal. How peculiar, Sharay thought absently as each graceful step carried her along side of Blend as the skeletal figure came to an abrupt halt. Not particularly far off was Katrophe or Fingers, Blend’s other half, and he whom Sharay was requested to kill. As did Blend before her, Sharay’s onyx gaze took in the display of insanity and carnage that was obviously
the handiwork of Fingers.

Such a waste.

Sharay watched as Blend turned to glance over his bony little shoulder to see if the Goddess had indeed followed, and though it was difficult to discern facial expression from the skeleton, Sharay smirked at Blend anyway knowing those empty sockets were fastened upon her naked upper body, and she breezed past Blend toward Fingers who was waving and shouting like the lunatic he was.

The dismembered bodies upon the slabs did not disturb her, nor did the pools of blood that puddled around the once pristine marble. The being known as Katrophe was obviously maniacal, for who would senselessly and brutally murder servants of Chaos if not for some archaic rituals that were best never completed? No doubt he was highly dangerous and deadly, for why else would Blend wish for Sharay to destroy his other half? A task, Sharay surmised, that would not be a piece of cake. It was not as simple as tearing Katrophe in half, or else Blend would have done so himself.

The Goddess was quiet as Fingers busied himself with the eyeball in his hand, her lips pressed into a thin hard line, for she had a very good idea to whom that eye belonged to. Her daughter’s ‘brother’, and even though there was no true blood connection between Deanna and Djarin, they were spiritually bonded and shackled by the revelations of Chaos, which meant that Djarin meant something to her wayward daughter. Sharay let out a slow hiss of breath and tapped Fingers upon his shoulder, taking a small step back as he turned around to face her.

“Hello Katrophe. I hate to disrupt you during your ‘playtime’, but allow me to introduce myself,” The Goddess began in a pleasant formal tone even as she channelled the dark twisted fibers of Chaos. “I am Sharay.”

"I am Death, yours to be specific."

Whether that was entirely possible or not presently, Sharay would soon find out. Black oozing tentacles rose from beneath them and lashed out at Katrophe, swiftly winding around his waist, his wrists and his legs to bind him to the bloodsoaked ground. Like those he carelessly murdered, Katrophe was a child and servant of Chaos and Death. He thrived upon such and most likely would nourished by any acts Sharay used in killing him. It would require something else beside the skill of murder to effectively snuff out Katrophe’s life force.

Sharay decided it best if she attempted to absorb Katrophe into her being, a path similarly taken with her by Valorius.

The Goddess lurched forward and wrapped her arms tightly around Katrophe’s neck and pressed her body against his, pinning him to her. She closed her eyes and focused on draining him of his essence to take within herself, essentially destroying Katrophe.

Or so she hoped.

Blend's gaze followed Sharay as she passed, heading straight for Katrophe. The Goddess carried herself with an aura of confidence, her bare chest set in a defiant stance as she passed Blend, smirking at him as she moved. Lifting his hand in protest, Blend called after Sharay.

"I'm not sure that's the breast.. err.. best idea! He's crazy!"

Crazy, sure, but crazy with a purpose. Katrophe wasn't simply raving lunatic, he was a madman of the deadliest caliber. If he was anything like Blend had been, then Katrophe had deadly ambitions and his eyes would be set on the final prize. What that prize was, Blend hadn't the faintest idea. The scenery offered no explanations. The only thing that was clear was that Katrophe had made for himself an elaborate device and that he had been waiting for them. Blend knew a trap when he saw it.

But had Katrophe been anticipating Sharay? Or had he expected Blend to do this on his own? And do what, exactly?

The events of the next few moments would answer those questions with resounding finality.

--

Tapped on the shoulder, Katrophe turned to face Sharay, his feline eyes trailing over the curves of her partially exposed body. The Birvuo's attitude betrayed little of the surprise he felt, and he recovered quickly as Sharay's sensual voice washed over him. A perfect voice, almost inhuman, almost..

It was then that Katrophe realized she was a Goddess.

For a mortal, there would have been no time to react to Sharay's sudden attack. For Katrophe, there was only fractions of a moment. Black, liquid whips rose from the ground, hungry arms lashing out at Katrophe. Diving under one tentacle, Katrophe lurched to dodge another one, but there was no time. In moments, he was trapped: wrists bound, legs imprisoned, chained to the earth and at the mercy of a deity.

Eyes wide with horror, his chest rising and falling rapidly, Katrophe spoke to Sharay.

"It's too late.. The ritual.. Stop this at once!"

Yes, it was too late -- for him. The Goddess pounced, clutching Katrophe as if he was her lover. Sharay's bare chest pressed against his blood-mottled shirt, her arms linked around his neck like shackles of iron. There was something incredibly intense and erotic about this fatal embrace, and even as Katrophe felt his spirit being tugged from his body, his lips curled into a smile.

--

Katrophe's essence, consumed by Sharay like poisoned water, wasn't settling well within the Goddess. It flitted through her mind, defiantly refusing to join with its new-found host. A hollow, sad voice filled the Goddess' mind.

"This has ruined everything.."

Knowledge flowed into Sharay, pure and unfiltered memories. As their essences blended, the Goddess was gifted with Katrophe's millennia of anguish, his countless years of spiritual suffering as the two parts of his soul grew further and further apart. And she saw his solution, a beautiful, simple solution to end all the problems.

Katrophe and Xezvimhi could become one. They would live together as they were designed, within one soul, within one body and mind. They would find balance. It would come at a sacrifice, a horrible but necessary cost. Thousands of realms must die.

His machine was nothing more than an elaborate trash compactor. It destroyed entire realms, grinding and churning them until they were raw, primal energy. This energy could be harnessed, with it Katrophe and Xezvimhi could merge..

It was, of course, too late. The process had begun. The pistons of the machine hissed, the marble slabs turned a quarter, and a distant world blazed out of existence.

--

Blend watched the whole scene play out in shocked silence, his feet rooted to the ground. Katrophe had gone limp, and Sharay seemed to be recovering. He knew it wasn't done. It was his turn.

As he walked forwards, heading towards Sharay and Katrophe's dead form, the machinated landscape churned into life. Booming through him like a drum, an uncomfortable sensation penetrated Blend's being - as if every atom in his body had vibrated slightly out of place. The effect wasn't only in his mind. Earthquakes shook the landscape and thunder boomed in the distance.

This was only the beginning. As the machine hissed again, a stronger earthquake devastated the landscape. Gaining speed, the machine groaned, the marble circles baring bodies turning yet again and bringing with them more earthquakes. His teeth nearly falling from his skull, Blend lurched about, struggling for balance. Mountains sagged on the horizon, kicking up thick clouds of dust. The machine was in full tilt now, wheels spinning slowly as steel arms pushed and pulled against stone. Blend wasn't aware that it was crushing another world out of existence every second, churning millions of souls into a pure, filtered energy.

"What's happening to me?!" Blend demanded of Sharay as this energy burst into him.

--

If ever a man could ascend into something more, this was the moment. Katrophe's fading essence refused to succumb to Sharay's will just yet, clinging on desperately to watch with shocked excitement from inside the Goddess as Blend consumed the energy of thousands of worlds. It was a shame the ritual was botched. Blend was missing a key ingredient - Katrophe.

Any second now..

--

Is this what it feels like, to become a god?! Some unseen door had been opened within Blend's mind, and through it poured infinite knowledge. Overwhelming him, the skeleton struggled to stay upright as the machine thrust the filtered energies of world after world into Blend's soul. The ritual was designed to stitch his severed spirit, but without Katrophe, the energy had no purpose. Instead it flowed around Blend, radiating from him in deadly waves and causing the earth to shift and sigh dangerously (if any 'normal' creature was in proximity, they'd be dead by now).

"Ohh.." Blend struggled with the knowledge pulsing through him. He was ascending! He was becoming a god! No.. The knowledge showed him something else, something cruel. Like Icarus in the Greek tragedy, he wasn't just ascending. He was burning up.

Blend looked towards Sharay. The sockets of his skull were bright pools of fire, so hot that the bone of his face was turning a brittle grey. His hand reached into the pouch at his hip and found the essence of Sharay, hidden within a doll of sticks and surprisingly intact.

"If I somehow make it through this.. You finish the bargain, you hear?" The knowledge pouring through him drowned him out, mocking him with it's infinite precision. You won't make it through this, those voices howled. He tossed the soul-snare to Sharay, giving an appreciative nod towards her bared chest. "Those look nicer than I imagined." Then the screams of a thousand worlds consumed his spirit, and Blend died.

To be more accurate, he exploded.