Aleris

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Unbound

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Author: Wanderer
Post Date: Fri Mar 07, 2014 4:17 am
Post subject: Unbound

"What will be left when I die?"

"Nothing," Chaos answered. "Even I will be gone."

--

Change has always defined Aleris. The seasons warp the world around them as their gods control the land, death becoming life while the living fall into decay. In such a world, it's perfectly reasonable for the sleeping to open their eyes and embrace a new day.

Except, in this case, there were no eyes and the sleeping should be dead.

Djarin was blind, and he rose from his bed in a world of darkness, his hands desperately grabbing for purchase. He couldn't remember what had happened over the last few months of his incredibly bizarre life. In fact, he had changed so many times, he hardly knew where or what he was.

An essence deep in him responded with an answer. You are what you always were. You're human.

A blind human, at that, both eyes gouged out and hidden beneath a mess of brown hair. Djarin grasped the edge of a desk, all the while certain it was a table, begging for sight. His eyes were gone, and the beauty of vision wasn't his to be found. Sightless, he had another sense granting him crucial information; a voice spoke in the darkness with words that sent a chill through his spine.

"We've been waiting for you," the voice said, a deadly sound laced with impatience and adrenaline. She was behind him and Djarin turned around, tilting his head to hear better. Her tone carried violence, and his instincts flared helplessly. She spoke in his native tongue, that of the sparse desert nomads that traversed through Heruin's vast deserts, but this wasn't the voice of a friend or relative. "Sharay has been waiting."

Before the reborn prophet could respond, something cold and hard crashed into his temple, and Djarin returned to his precious oblivion.

Author: Wanderer
Post Date: Thu Mar 13, 2014 2:44 pm
Post subject: Re: Unbound

When he came around, Djarin's first sensation was the smell of horses and the jerking motions of the cart beneath him as it rattled across a gravel road. The sun was bright, and he felt the warmth on his skin. Managing to get into a sitting position, Djarin discovered his hands and feet had been bound. He'd been reborn as a captive!

Why was he here, he wondered. Not just in this cart.. but in this plane. Djarin was supposed to be dead. His last human memory was of dying, his hand on the king, a blade thrust through his chest - that fatal gift courtesy of some overly ambitious soldier who failed to understand his harmless intentions.

Harmless? He wanted to bring Chaos to the realm. In truth, he had succeeded. So had Sharay.

Memories slammed into him as Djarin recalled what happened that night. Deanna, Verial, Blend... the whole fateful battle that brought the Alerian capital to its knees. Most importantly, he remembered the goddess of Death and Chaos. His captor had said something about Sharay, before she knocked him out cold, and it was no wonder. Chaos had many gods and it wasn't simply Tempesturo who watched Djarin with a curious gaze. Sharay had been there every step of the way, watching with eager eyes as Djarin raised an army of cannibals from the devastated land.

What happened of his army, he wondered as the cart bumped and groaned over the road. The great Aliscowri tribe was destined for a path of glory and sacrifice, if the gods of Aleris hadn't interfered. Surely, most of them had been wiped out by the wars, but the Aliscowri had a gift unparalleled: the ability to share their faith with others through touch alone. It was a gift Djarin had first discovered that fateful day he nearly died in the desert, a gift from Tempesturo himself.

Had the wildfire been contained? Did Tempesturo's rabid army flicker out, as quickly as it had once burst into life? These questions wandered through his mind, and Djarin sighed, leaning back against the edge of the cart. He'd get answers soon enough.

"You're awake?" The voice of Sharay's servant called to him from ahead. She must be riding the horse, he reasoned. "Good. We're here."

The cart rolled to a stop, and in a few short moments, Djarin was yanked from the cart.

Where was 'here'? Where else? Welcome to Sharay's temple, you poor, blind fool!

Author: Wanderer
Post Date: Fri Apr 04, 2014 12:43 am
Post subject: Re: Unbound

Hours later, in the mid-day sun...

"Where is she?" Djarin asked, his voice a hallow croak, the man sitting with his back against a sun-baked wall as Tempesturo glared down angrily from his molten chariot in the sky. Djarin realized with a touch of irony that his first words as a reborn man asked about Sharay, not Tempesturo. Which god did he worship, he wondered. Did that god have a name too?

He'd been left outside, his hands and feet untied ("Who could escape what they could not see?" his captor had mocked). The cursed goddess's apostle entered the temple alone. With her return, the blind nomad lifted his head to hear her response.

At his feet was an overbearingly friendly black cat, bumping Djarin frequently as the man reached out with his right hand (my lost right hand) to stroke its neck.

"She's dealing with more important matters." The Aliscowri sounded exasperated, and Djarin listened to her sigh as she leaned against the wall.

"Does she even know I'm here?" Djarin asked above the purring of the feline as it circled him. The creature was so involved in its own pleasure that it didn't notice the Aliscowri woman tensing angrily. Djarin didn't notice either, until he felt the cold pressure of a blade against his neck.

"She'll know when I kill you." The Aliscowri sounded upset, and for a brief moment Djarin imagined what it must be like in her shoes. She had been waiting for him - as if she knew that someday he might rise. How long had she waited? Days? Weeks? Months? All this time, growing more desperate.. Eager to earn for Sharays' favor. His empathy led Djarin deep into the Aliscowri's head, and he smiled softly as he leaned back.

"She will come," Djarin said confidently.

The blade lifted from his neck and the Aliscowri walked away, her angry footsteps fading off as she returned to the temple to beseech her goddess.

Djarin sighed and turned to his only true friend, the friendly black cat, offering his right hand. The feline replied with a happy purr and flopped onto its side so the prophet could rub its belly.

Author: Sharay
Post Date: Thu Apr 10, 2014 8:11 pm
Post subject: Re: Unbound

“You see Darice,” The Goddess of Chaos and Death approached from behind one limestone outer wall, addressing the Aliscowri woman who exited Sharay’s temple on cue with her Lady’s arrival. “That is why I spent much time and effort seeking this one. He is devout. He is a believer. He believes with every fiber of his being.” The Goddess smiled as she finally stood before Djarin and peered down at the blind prophet who was contenting himself with the small black cat who demanded his full attention.

The Aliscowri woman bowed her head in reverence to her Goddess, her eyes widening a fraction when she lifted her head as she saw what trailed behind Sharay. Darice had never seen a tiger before, but she had heard tales of such magnificent and powerful creatures. Maneaters, they were called. She imagined them to be incredibly large, but these two majestic beasts...were enormous. Patterns of black stripes contrasting against gleaming white fur, the tigers flanked their Mistress, their heads reaching Sharay’s shoulders, and the Goddess, thanks to Valorius Malku, was not a short woman. Vibrant icy blue eyes travelled from the Aliscowri woman to regard Djarin with curiosity, only to finally land upon the black feline who was tinier than one of their gargantuan paws. The tigers made some sort of chuffing sound, which to Darice sounded suspiciously like an amused snort, and more than once did the priestess believe these creatures possessed uncanny human like intelligence that defied their animalistic nature. After all, such beasts belonged to the Goddess, so her theory wasn’t exactly so far-fetched as to not believe it to be true.

The Aliscowri woman slid her glance to the Goddess and groaned inwardly seeing the smile fade only to be replaced by a tight thin line of her lips. Dark ebony pools met the priestess’ own, and Darice knew the reason for Sharay’s displeasure.

“Darice, when I asked for you and your sisters to find the prophet and bring him to me, it was implied that I wished for him to unharmed in the process.” Sharay crouched near Djarin and shoo’d the cat away from him so that she might inspect the rather large and ugly purplish lump forming on the side of the prophet’s head. A slow breath was let out and it seemed the Goddess was counting silently to herself...or contemplating the murder of the Aliscowri woman.

It was the hissing sound of the little black cat, her attempt to prove her bravery and worth against her giant feline kin, that drew Sharay upright with a sigh. “Did he refuse to come with you when you informed him of my request?”

“I...uh...did not truly wait to hear his response, Mistress. I knew you required him, so I wasted no time bringing him to you. Forgive me for my brashness.” The Aliscowri woman bowed her head to Sharay in repentance.

“Hmm...you did not even offer him food or drink, nor an opportunity for reprieve from the midday sun. He should have been bathed and brought clean attire, rested and fed before I returned, yet none of this happened, Darice.” The Goddess stared at her priestess, tapping her lips with a forefinger as Djarin who was still sitting upon the ground, his back resting against the wall in silence, was momentarily forgotten. “I cannot forgive such discourtesy. Therefore my servant...it will be you who is in charge of feeding Ri and Sumai. They are in the mood for young goat, I believe. Enjoy!” Sharay simpered sweetly, a bright smile gracing her lips as she handed thin golden leashes to the open-mouthed Aliscowri woman before snapping her fingers to Djarin.

“Come. Up now. I am sure Darice’s siblings will be more than happy to welcome you properly, Djarin.” She waited until the prophet rose to his feet and place his left hand upon her bare right shoulder. “I shall guide you...and your little friend, it would seem too.” She smirked at the sight of the cat who refused to leave Djarin’s side. They strolled past a rather unhappy Darice who looked at the two giants with trepidation as they issued low growls in unison to the Aliscowri woman.

“Welcome to my temple, prophet.”

***

Sharay had erected her temple in the center of the isle that was surrounded by the Claudelle and Gaul rivers. The spot had been chosen deliberately as a slap in the face to Tempesturo. Her own private lush oasis in the middle of Heruin.

The temple was surrounded by a large thick wall of limestone that reached thirty feet high and was surrounded by lush date palms. Within the walls lay Sharay’s temple of gleaming polished marble. Though not particularly large or ostentatious, the temple suited Sharay with its simplicity in design and domed roof. Leading Djarin through the wooden doorway, the blind prophet would be unable to truly see the spectacular structure within.

Pillars were scattered through the main chamber as were braziers that burned day and night. The polished marble gleamed throughout and various windows that decorated the walls from floor to ceiling allowed cool breezes to travel throughout the temple. Sweet smelling incense was burned as they made their way within, her trio of saffron robed priests, blind and mute, slowly making their way around the temple, their heads bowing as their Goddess passed them.

Before the dias lay Sharay’s altar, a large slab of granite that seemed out of place against the alabaster domain. The remaining two Aliscowri priestesses stood silently to the side of the altar that was prepared for Sharay’s arrival. Upon the golden tray, glass decanter held a rich red vintage and two goblets, a second tray held various exotic fruits, dates and nuts, as well as cheeses and flatbread. Fat candles in red and black burned upon the altar and both women dipped their heads as Sharay removed Djarin’s hand and led him to the Aliscowri women.

“Kulaa’ne and Gemeti will pour you wine and fill a plate for you,” Sharay intoned as she poured herself wine before making her way up the stairs that led to the dais where a polished marble and gold throne awaited her. Behind the altar was a lifelike statue of the goddess stood, and it would be here (as it was in the past) where offerings to the Goddess would be laid.

Sharay waited until food and drink was provided to the blind prophet and he was led up the stairs to where the Goddess sat. Various cushions were provided for Djarin to sit upon and relax, and his plate and goblet were placed upon the marble flooring so that he sat to the right of Sharay, near her feet.

“I will be brief, for I am sure you hunger and thirst.” She did not add that she had someone of importance waiting for her. Her nose wrinkled some. “You could use a bath too, but let us not quibble over your body odor, shall we?” The Goddess took a sip of wine and indicated the Aliscowri women should remain near Djarin should he require anything.

“Djarin, once the prophet of Tempesturo,” Sharay began, ignoring the little black cat that made herself comfortable upon one of the cushions near her new human friend. “You blindly, excuse the pun, followed what you believed to be your calling, to spread his word, his message. You sacrificed so much for this false deity," Sharay took another sip of wine.

“Tell me...how did that work out for you?”

The Goddess did not wait for an answer, instead she leaned back against the throne and tucked her legs under her body. “Your eyes are gone, but you see clearer than most. You have been given a second chance at life, much like my own daughter Deanna.” She smiled. “Whom I’d like to add is not faring as well as you, my dear Djarin. She is not as accepting as you are in life, and this causes great discord within her.” Sharay sighed then. “I hope to remedy that soon enough, but I digress…,”

The empty goblet was handed to Gemeti and Sharay stared at Djarin for a long time as he picked as his food. “Whether you are aware of not, this world Aleris is being purged as we speak. Those who prove weak and unworthy of life will meet their demise soon enough, but there is hope for those who are deserving to appreciate life. This cleansing, though quite brutal and harsh in my opinion, is necessary for the preservation of Aleris. Balance must be achieved for life to flourish properly, but you know this already, don’t you prophet?”

“The so-called gods are useless. I cannot even justify their existence nor a reason for a single Alerian to utter a prayer to them. Frankly, I would see them gone for good, faded from the existence of Aleris. They serve no true purpose.”

She waited a moment or so to allow Djarin to digest her words before continuing on. “I have decided that I shall remain in Aleris to see it return to its former glory after this...purge...has taken its course. The realm has been steadily declining for some time, but I need not tell you that. It is obvious to see. I tell you truthfully that I plan to rule it, a single deity for all to worship. It is my intention to ‘purge’ this world of the gods or boy kings, as Aleris truly only needs one competent being to rule. That would be me.”

“I believe strongly that you can understand my desire for change, for growth, Djarin. That is why I desired to locate you as I know that you are instrumental in my quest for the rebirth of Aleris. You are a leader of men, whether you believe that or not.” She studied him for a minute. “Your lack of sight is unimportant as you well know, for as I said, you do not require mortal eyes to see or to lead, and that is what I would have you do. Lead my army, your army really of whomever you choose to rebuild...reshape Aleris. A New World Order, Djarin, with you at the helm guided by my hand, to bring forth change in my name.”

Sharay snapped her fingers and Gemeti appeared beside her Goddess with the goblet filled once more with wine before taking her place once more beside her sister priestess near where Djarin sat. The Goddess drank deeply, peering over the golden rim to observe the prophet’s body language.

“So,” she licked the remaining droplets of wine from her lower lip. “What say you, prophet? Does anything I say offer interest to you? Do you have anything to offer in response? Questions, comments? Don’t be shy now.”

The Goddess settled against the comfort of her throne, awaiting Djarin’s response to her proposal.

Author: Wanderer
Post Date: Tue Jun 10, 2014 3:18 pm
Post subject: Re: Unbound

Life and death.. Two words which defined even the most fundamental of creatures. These words formed the world around them, separating every tangible entity into these two basic classes. These words made warlords dream of immortality while paupers begged for their end. They were two words which no longer applied to the chaotic entity known as Sessilleks.

After all, he had killed the God of Death.

Once a water moccasin, Sessilleks had become something more. He'd been gifted knowledge and understanding, and with it the ability to change. It hadn't taken long for the snake to become more intelligent and more powerful, as he struggled to comprehend the revelations he'd been given. Only days passed before the snake had crawled out from the swamps to consume Silenti like an over-sized rat, only weeks until he wandered into the realm of Chaos, into the remains of the Warren of Eliskan, where he grew legs and walked like a man.

But it took a year for him to become what he was now. And what was he? Sessilleks didn't attempt to define himself anymore. The changes were too reliable, the only certainties he had was what he wasn't. He wasn't a snake, or a man. He wasn't a god, and he wasn't a servant. He was only himself, an entity wholly apart from the regular fabric of this fickle existence.

Even an observer couldn't readily define Sessilleks. With a long sweeping tail, a hunched back, and a ridge of feathers that ran down his spine, he seemed like an amalgamation of many different creatures. Part snake, part bird, part man, he existed in a constant state of renewal, each day different from the last. Black scales flecked with red covered every surface of his glistening skin, where the red scales had formed spirals that swirled in disorderly patterns across his body. A pair of sharp green eyes peered out from beneath a sturdy brow, studying the landscape around him with eager curiosity.

He spent his days exploring Chaos, becoming familiar with its' many tastes and textures. And how many tastes there were for him to sample! The realm was ever changing, like the creature who explored it, leaving his curiosity pleasantly rewarded with each mile that passed beneath those clawed feet of his. He had seen stones that move and float weightless, he'd seen rain that seeped from the earth and plunged towards the heavens, his eyes had witnessed the birth of a thousand new creatures with wills and dreams of their own. Chaos was a place of rebirth, filled with the powerful energy of change and renewal. Death didn't apply here, not like it did in 'reality'. Here, death was only another tool used by Tempesturo to shape his maddening landscapes into something new. Nothing ever ceased, nothing ever really died. It changed.

Now was his turn to change. He would shed his skin one last time and in doing so shed his life in Chaos. Something deep within him reverberated with the knowledge that somewhere the prophet had returned; that man who had given Sessilleks meaning... who gave him purpose.

Letting out a final hiss, Sessilleks walked into the filament that separated Aleris from Chaos itself. Then he walked through it, to return to his home-world and find Djarin.

If he was lucky, he might get a tasty snack too.

--

Djarin followed Sharay, listening to the Goddess as she guided him deeper into her temple. He couldn't see a thing, but his other senses told him almost everything his eyes could say - the space was immense, an airy temple built of dense marble that echoed the steps of their footsteps as they moved. Wind pushed the familiar scents of Heruin incense past his nose, reminding him of simpler times when he was nothing more than a nomad who harvested salt for a living. The smells of incense; a reminder in fire and smoke of Tempesturo.

Incense was also a reminder of death, the solid matter burning into spiritual smoke that eventually drifted away, never to return.

At his side was the loyal black cat, who was following him around without a care in the world. The tigers hadn't phased the brazen feline, nor did the presence of Sharay. Indeed, all it wanted was Djarin's attention, which was sorely lacking. The blind prophet didn't have time for a cat. Not with a goddess at his side.

Sitting down at the table, Djarin continued to let Sharay speak. The Goddess spoke more now to him than she ever had, and Djarin was eager to learn what exactly was the motivation behind this powerful deity. They shared a common heritage now. They were family, both harbingers of Chaos in a world of Order.

As he listened, Djarin took some of the fruit and ate it. His mouth almost stung as it salivated happily, the blind prophet allowing himself a smile as he crunched on a grape. He'd almost forgotten how good it was to eat. How long had it been?

A memory of the T'ral Ithan clan fluttered through his mind. The quick, light tents they set up each night and peeled down each morning. Smoldering piles of charcoal, laden with incense and surrounded by offerings to the gods and the sun-lined faces of his family and his friends. Food.

That was years ago, he realized with a shock. Then he got lost in the vast Heruin deserts and Tempesturo guided him out, and Djarin never needed food again.

Pulling himself out of his reverie, the prophet returned his full attention to Sharay. The goddess made a quip about Tempesturo's failures, which brought another smile to the prophet's sun-lined face. The god had never failed him, he thought as he swallowed another grape. The opposite was true. If he was alive now, he could only blame Tempesturo - the very god who had given Djarin power over the wills of others in the first place. Whether or not Sharay was ever willing to accept it, Tempesturo was the reason Djarin held any value or sway in this world.

Her discussion took on darker tones as she continued with her speech, bringing up the 'purging' of Aleris and the eventual rise to power that Sharay intended. She wanted to usurp the Alerian gods, to become the sole ruler of this realm. Sugarcoating did little to hide this blatant truth, though that didn't stop the frightful goddess from trying.

The truth was, Djarin felt a sinking in his stomach as Sharay spoke, because he realized before she even mentioned his role in this what he would be doing for her. She wanted another army, another force that made the Aliscowri look like a botched experiment. To do that, she needed his.. charisma? Was that even the right word for what Djarin had? He wasn't sure, but Sharay needed whatever it was that he contained within himself.

Perhaps, he thought with bitter irony, she really needed Tempesturo.

Either way, Djarin wouldn't deny the goddess. Not here, at least, not when he was in her temple. She was a Goddess of Chaos and Death - the second of her domains being the more important one in this decision. For very simple and obvious reasons, Djarin didn't feel like dying so soon after returning to the world of the living.

Besides, he reasoned to himself as he rolled a raspberry between his forefinger and thumb thoughtfully, Sharay's plan wasn't entirely flawed. It was true, Djarin desired change. It was his magnum opus, his single and greatest goal in life. He'd seen what Chaos has to offer, and knew that it was necessary to bring Chaos into this world - at any and all costs.

The cost of life was a necessary but unpleasant expense. But it was one Djarin would willingly pay to bring the storms of Tempesturo's madness to this realm once more.

Sharay, he understood, would be his stepping stone. She would help to forge the path that he would take, the path to greatness.. The path to Chaos.

"Very well," he said, his words simple. Unlike Sharay, he wasn't one to mince words. "I'll help you, on the condition that I have full autonomy within the ranks of this army I shall create. They will be my army, not yours. And they will serve Chaos, not Death."

He popped the raspberry in his mouth and smiled blissfully, turning his head towards Sharay.

"Then we have an agreement? If we're done here, I could use a bath.."

Author: Sharay
Post Date: Sun Jul 13, 2014 7:01 pm
Post subject: Re: Unbound

***AAron...sorry it took me soooooo long! Ben...follow up is coming soon I promise! Thank you for being so patient with me!***

The Goddess of Chaos and Death smiled to the prophet at his bold request. Actually it was more of a baring of white teeth behind thinly stretched lips. Though she admired his fearlessness, Sharay was more than just a lovely face and perfect form. Djarin may have readily agreed to her generous offer, and truly who would resist such temptation, but the Goddess knew his hidden desire.

Tempesturo. Damn that inferior so called deity that her ‘new recruit’ so devoutly followed. Sharay found this to be more of an inconvenient annoyance more than anything else, but decided not to confront the prophet with her suspicions. After all, what would be the purpose of going through all the trouble to locate and convince Djarin to fight for her cause, and for the cause of Aleris, if she went to battle with her newest recruit over such petty matters?

“Of course, Djarin,” Sharay dipped her head in agreeance to his request...or was it an attempt to command? “If you can find what remains of the populace to be suitable for your needs, then by all means, Prophet of Chaos, choose whom you will to follow your lead.” The Goddess’ gaze bore into the young man, dark indigo flames danced with merriment within those ever seeing orbs. “As I said before, you may use what you require within my temple to provide for your comfort,” she gestured with a sweep of one slim fingered hand. “I know you will understand if I depart now. The death toll in Aleris rises and souls cannot linger long without guidance.” With that final parting, Sharay turned sharply upon one heel and swept out of her own temple pausing only for one last backward glance to Djarin.

“I trust you will make wise choices, my friend.”

Then she was gone.

The two priestesses, proud Aliscowri women who served their goddess devoutly remained behind in their beloved dark mother’s temple. Instructed by Sharay to see to Djarin’s needs, the two women were given another set of instructions, private ones that could not hope to reach Djarin’s sharp ears.

Do not let him out of your sight. Observe quietly, report to me. Nothing more.

***

Chaos was ever changing. A realm unto itself, it was indeed the private domain of Sharay and her personal means of transportation to other realms. Chaos was where the thousands of souls stood in confusion, unsure of how they managed to find themselves in the antechamber of this mass cavern. The dead would not feel the dampness of the ground, the slightly moldy scent in the air. They would not feel the droplets of water that slid from stalactites that grew sporadically from the cavern’s ceiling. Lost souls that required direction from the Death Goddess, they shifted in droves, hushed whispers that finally died once she did appear. She who would guide them accordingly into the afterlife.

Radiant in all white, a gleaming light in the dim interior, Sharay stood on a stone platform that rose high above the masses. Standing beside but a few paces behind and clad in splendid gold was her priestess Darice. A few steps behind the two women stood the saffron robed priests of Sharay, twisted and warped both physically and mentally, they served their goddess with blind silent obedience, having traded their sight and tongues for a chance to honor their goddess.

Sharay waited until all chatter died, until the light breeze that blew throughout the cave settled, until all deadened eyes were upon her before speaking. Her voice was low and somber, yet soothing to their senses, as each and every one lifted their gazes to focus solely upon her.

“I sense your confusion. I feel your pain. Your sense of loss. Some of you are acutely aware of what has befallen you, some still struggling to comprehend.” Sharay paused some, her arms outstretched before her. “Do not fear though, for all shall be explained. The loss of your physical form, that burden of a shell you carried until now, is one of liberation. You are all free now, your souls having shed their corporeal forms, so that you may revel in everlasting pleasure…,” her voice dropped an octave. “...or for so many of you, eternal pain.”

The caverns echoed in the cries of so many souls who feared eternal punishment for their wrongdoings and tried to flee back into the dark tunnel that once led them into the antechamber, but they search was in vain as the chamber’s walls were smooth stone. Not a single opening was made available save two enormous wooden doors on either side of the chamber that were seemingly not present before. Both doors were locked and neither would open until Sharay decreed it so.

The Goddess of Death shook her head sadly. “Your fates are inevitable, my children. You cannot escape what I have in store for you. The end of your road is here and now with me.” Lowering her hands, she pointed to the door on the left which slowly began to open. A soft luminous glow began to light the dark chamber. The scent of fresh grass, sweet smelling flowers, and warm sunshine suddenly filled the nostrils of the dead.

“For those who have led a life of righteousness, of good hearted nature, for those who lived their lives of kindness to their fellow man, animal and world, for those who were taken from that world with purity in their heart, this gift I give to you.” Sharay’s lips curved into a gentle smile. “For all of your hard labors in life, you shall enjoy the spoils of paradise following your death. Let go of your loved ones, your enemies, your friends, for paradise chooses whom shall dwell within it. Allow your forms to drift toward the light, children, for once you enter, your soul shall feel as light as air, your worries and fears shall flee and naught but light, love and happiness shall fill you. Go now and be at peace.” Several hundred found themselves pulled towards the opened doorway and into the glow despite the pleas and shouts of others. Some of the undeserving attempted to follow but were met with invisible resistance. Sharay’s will. None would pass who did not belong. None.

The earthen room was still quite full as the last of the souls entered their golden paradise, the doors shutting with a quiet thud behind them. Sharay fastened her gaze upon the multitude that remained and shook her head in despair. “Now this is a disappointment. So many sinners here.” The gentle soothing tone previously adopted by Sharay was replaced by one of malevolent humor, and the goddess clapped her hands together briskly. “Ah well, let us not tarry, shall we?” She turned her head to the right and the remaining door opened with an ominous creak.

There was no light, not sweet smelling flowers or grass to greet those who remained. Instead the stench of decay would fill their nostrils, the sound of dreadful whimpers would meet their terrified ears, the icy cold that drifted from the darkness would entrap their souls.

Sharay’s dark gaze once more took the trembling masses who cried out for forgiveness, some dropping to their knees, begging the goddess for mercy. Sharay glanced at Darice and rolled her eyes, shaking her head as she held out her hands.

“Come come now! On your feet! Stop this foolishness!” Her voice cracked like an icy whip and the pleadings stopped, only muffled sobbing remained. “Truly now? Do you truly believe that after a lifetime of wickedness, of cruelty and debauchery, of hateful spite, that you could simply ask for forgiveness, for atonement and POOF! Your sins would be washed clean? That the taint upon your souls, and let me tell you...it is tainted beyond belief...would suddenly be erased and all would be well again?” Sharay laughed and wiped an imaginary tear from her eye. “No my dears, I am not THAT kind of god.” All traces of humor vanished as she stared coldly at the huddled souls who feared their eternal punishment in such darkness.

“You made your choices in your pathetic lives, and now you will know their consequences. I did not make such choices for you. I am only the reaper, and today I have come to you for collection. You want hand holding? Sweet kisses and caresses? Soft words that are whispered in your ears that all will be well? That you are forgiven for your tresspasses? That would be Elysia’s department, naughty children. I am a TRUE GOD. Judgement has been passed upon each and every one of you. Now it is time for payment.”

“Each one of you has your own personal hell to face, and face it you will. You will suffer. You will agonize. You will remember all that you have done in the past and relive it in your immortal afterlife and you will KNOW it was I who put you there FOR ALL THAT YOU HAVE DONE! You will relive each and every single disgusting act that you have done to others for the rest of your miserable eternity. That is my judgement. That is final.”

Sharay smoothed her dark locks and smiled then. “Any questions? No? None?” She peered to one crying woman. “You there. Yes you. Murdered your children, did you now? Chopped at them like they were plump rabbits waiting to be dropped in stew, did you not?” Sharay held up a hand as the wraith female opened her mouth. “No. Do not give me the excuse you were not yourself. That you were fouled by darkness, the plague that is sweeping this world as we speak. Your heart of hearts was already a blackened cruel thing, else you would have fought the evil that wormed its way into your body.” She speared the rest with a look. “As would all of you. You became corrupted because you were already corrupt to start. Evil can and does beget more evil, but only if one is weak enough to allow it to do so. Now…,” the cruelty in her tone had vanished and was replaced once more by softness. “...it is time. Go. Your eternity waits for you.”

One by one the remaining souls shuffled through the doorway, screams, sobs and curses were instantly heard until the last one was forced through and the door slammed shut with a loud bang to silence the whimpering. It was done. Sharay had ferried the souls to their final destinations, knowing it was only a matter of time before a new batch came before her and the cycle would begin anew. She closed her eyes and whispered her prayers for the dead, all the dead and then it was time for her to return to the realm.

***

The Goddess stood on the small island oasis breathing in the salty air when she was summoned by Darice. It had been a long day, and though she did not tire as a mortal would, there was mental and emotional turmoil that came with the job she held. Chaos. Death. They could drain a deity. Drive them insane or mad with violent tendencies. The human body that housed such divinity held human emotions, thoughts, reactions. A goddess had to take great care not to allow such to consume her being. Hence the need for solidarity in her retreat. When the mental request for her presence interrupted her zen-like state, Sharay cursed loudly, yet even as she did so, her hand sliced through the air so that she might step through the portal to return to her temple.

“What is it?” Sharay demanded as she stormed across the marble flooring to where her priestesses, all three stood solemnly. It was soft spoken Gemeti that addressed the Goddess first.

“Drybrush has fallen, my Lady. Those sea beings, whatever they are, have taken the city as have the infected. Those that are not dead already have--,” Gemeti’s words were cut off as the Goddess suddenly swayed, lurched and nearly fell to her feet had not her priestesses been there to catch her. A visibly bright glow was seen through the tall windows that decorated Sharay’s temple from the direction of the fallen city they spoke of, before it disappeared altogether, leaving Sharay to let out a breath before unsteadily rising to her feet. Slowly the Goddess turned her body to stare at the outside world, but it was not the demise of Drybrush she was concerned most with. Unblinking eyes saw everything and nothing in that single moment and when she was finally able to speak, her voice was hoarse and barely carried above a whisper.

“What have you done, you stupid boy?”

Author: Wanderer
Post Date: Tue Sep 16, 2014 4:37 am
Post subject: Re: Unbound

((I took ages to respond! I'm bad at this... ))

Djarin went to sleep that evening after speaking with Sharay. He didn't wake up for months. But he had dreams.

--

Fire swirled through the sky, golden fire with ribbons of blue which hissed and sparked. Thunder was drowned out by it's own cacophony as bolts of lightning twisted downwards to crash into great metal stones which floated in the sky. The landscape was a confusing mixture of fire and ice, with massive violet crystals struggling to grow next to the violence of their neighbors.

This scene was painfully familiar to the prophet. Too familiar. This wasn't a dream.

The first time he'd seen Chaos, Djarin had been confused by the randomness of the place. Now, he expected it. Chaos was always predictable in its unpredictability. And it was always active. Stagnation was antithesis to everything that defined the nature of this place; Chaos begets change.

The landscape was changing even as he watched, but Djarin wasn't too eager to stare at crystals and lightning all day. If this wasn't a dream, he fully intended to explore Chaos to his hearts content. It was then Djarin realized he didn't have a body.

This sensation wasn't new. Death had visited Djarin before, and Chaos had claimed his spirit then. Until this recent rebirth, Djarin had been exploring - and interacting with - the chaotic energies that dominated this place. When he died, he didn't have a body. He still had a consciousness, a will, and a unique freedom to move through Chaos (or mostly anything) with ease. This was Tempesturo's finest gift to a devoted prophet. A weight had been lifted, and after tying up some lose ends, he spread his ethereal fingers as far into Chaos as he could until his very spirit was one with the tumultuous energies that roiled through this place. It was then he lost self-awareness, a sense of identity, and perhaps died in truth. Though he never really died, did he?

Case and point: he's still alive!

This 'dream' offered that same familiar freedom. Djarin was without form, a flowing and energetic being that could be as large or as small as his will desired. Speed wasn't an issue. The only issue was knowing where to go next, but Djarin didn't let that stop him and he radiated outwards, firing deeper into Chaos at insane speeds.

Something caught his attention, something new. His exploration ended as quick as it began and he neared the focus of his curiosity: a massive marble tower, pock-marked with holes in incredibly complex, spiraling patterns. From these holes, bands of light radiated, arching in curved patterns that would flicker as they darted about, each a different shade of blue. Nearing the structure, he noticed the lights vanish into the tower.

These were no ordinary lights, he realized, but sentient creatures. As he neared the structure, he reached out with his mind and touched theirs. What he saw was both beautiful and horrifying.

This was a dying race. They were hungry creatures - they consumed the very atoms of material realms and tore them apart into raw energy, using some of this energy to fuel their fast-paced lives. This nature of destruction was their undoing, and they were being hunted in turn. Thousands of their marble cities had once dotted the landscape, but now.. they were dying before his very eyes.

The marble pillar had been infected. Millions of microscopic hunters bred in halls that once glowed with the light of scholars and artists. These thoughtless and hungry parasites sucked at the energy of their hosts as they bred ravenously: a cruel gift from Chaos to change the nature of this peaceful civilization.

For the dying energies, it was the final nail in their coffin. They faced a bigger threat, more immediate and vengeful: the hunters that chased them. The appetites of these beautiful blue-lit creatures had spawned many enemies. Soon, they would be extinct.

Could they run? His mind raced for answers as he explored the curious tower. The spirits seemed eager to let him in, enthralled by his presence and hopeful for a solution. No, they responded, their minds flashing to the loneliness, their weakness by themselves, their strength in numbers. Alone, they would die. This city would be their last. Nowhere in Chaos could they escape their hunters.

Djarin drew at one final straw and showed them Aleris.

Suddenly, all the blue lights were focused on him and Djarin felt like he was in a broadway show.

--

Build an army. Hrmph! Wait 'til Sharay sees this one!

Djarin would have grinned with pride if he had a mouth. Instead, he turned his attention on the brilliant lights which raced after him. Thousands of them. Each its own individual, running from the common threat of death towards the unknown promise of a paradise. Aleris. A world filled with matter they could consume. A world filled with freedom.

Hopefully they don't have energy-ticks there.

--

The plan was simple, and they all seemed to be in accordance. In fact, the creatures were amiable for the most part, as long as they were allowed into Aleris. Leaving their last city alone left them exposed - the city would be destroyed or overrun if they returned. There was no turning back.

There was no where else for them to go.

Djarin would return to Aleris, to his body (assuming it was still in one piece). With him would come one of the energy beings, a pale cerulean light which chose the name of Fel. If everything worked out, Fel and Djarin would be in proximity and Djarin could try to decide what to do next. None of the creatures knew how they would manifest in Aleris. There was no promise they would be pure energy - Djarin certainly wouldn't be. Perhaps they would take forms, like the other chaotic creatures Djarin encountered before.

Regardless of what they looked like, Djarin needed to know they were safe and controllable. Fel would be his test run. If all went well, these other beings would be his army.

Fel, for the most part, thought this would be a jolly old time.

--

I'd rather be alive.

That thought was his first as Djarin returned to his physical form. He was tossed into agony, his entire body racked with pain. His right hand hurt the most, tendrils of pain twisting up his wrist like the hungry coils of a snake. He tried desperately to open his eyes. Of course, he couldn't open his eyes - they were missing entirely, and his lids refused to budge. Wrapped in blindness, Djarin struggled against this encroaching black cage, eager to return to Chaos. Eager to be dead again.

It's strange how priorities shift.

The moment passed, though the pain didn't. How long had he been gone? Djarin didn't know, but his body certainly found the answer. His muscles hurt to move. His joints creaked with apathy. He had sores from laying in bed too long, and air whistled against the sandpaper lining of his throat. Dehydration and starvation had taken their toll, and he looked more like a mummy than a living man.

Sharay's devout must have cared for him. His nose was quick to pick out those scents most unpleasant - the sweat, the aging skin, and worse the piss that recently soaked his bed - but underneath were the smells of incense and wine. How long did they tend to this unconscious man? Djarin didn't want to know. He suspected Sharay relished in his demeanor, and he shot a defiant grin towards the ceiling as if she was staring down at him. His lips cracked and bled at the effort.

At least he had one thing to show for it. In his aching right hand, Djarin clenched a wriggling creature. Also, his hair was standing up!

--

"Zzzgrrrzz!"

"Uhh.. Fel?" Djarin's voice was a soft whisper, and it hurt to speak, but the energetic creature in his hand wasn't helping much. It struggled to escape, and if it left his field of touch.. well, Djarin wouldn't be able to find it. "Hey, stay.. stay still!"

"Zzzgrrrstill... FELZ!" The sudden burst of energy from the creature grew and Djarin let out an angry hiss (which really sounded more like a raspy cough).

"Fel, stay still.. calm down.. You know..?"

"Calmzzz..." the creature paused for a moment, and then let out what sounded like a gurgling laugh - if you tossed it in a blender which was standing next to a fan. Then it bit Djarin.

This wasn't a friendly bite. The last knuckle of his pinky on his right hand was sheared clear off in one fell swoop. It didn't even hurt at first - Djarin was already overcome with pain from his aching body, and the first thing he noticed was the lack of sensation coming from his finger. There was no pain. The second thing he noticed was the warmth as blood began soaking his thigh.

Of course, he let the damned thing go.

"Zzzgrrrgllzzz.." The creature - god knows what it looks like - jumped from the bed while Djarin frantically clenched his finger. The pain would come any second - he knew it - and Djarin was already uncomfortable enough. No amount of clenching could save him, and Djarin let out a howl as true pain shot up his arm, his finger forever mutilated by the cursed little blue light that had invaded Aleris.

An Aliscowri entered the room, thankfully able to talk. Her next words were critical.

"You're awake!" She paused as her attention focused on something else, and she let out a soft laugh. "Your cat looks ridiculous! Why is her hair standing up like that.."

"I'm.." Djarin coughed. "My finger.."

"Meow!"

"You're not contributing," Djarin grumbled towards Cat-Fel as the Aliscowri rushed over to help.