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Post by Hero on Jun 15, 2018 18:15:25 GMT
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Post by Hero on Jun 15, 2018 19:18:10 GMT
The amber of the heavens burned incandescent across the delicate roses of the silent plain, trailblazing a world unknown to the eyes of man. Where the aroma of honey and pollen fresh and natural beckoned the peace of the vast wildlife, not a mortal soul could be found.
In what appeared to be nowhere in-particular, however, a single ash tree— still and tranquil— made not a sound. Crimson dots marked the opposing branches where compound leaves danced in the zephyrs of the morning sky, but not once could it be heard. Yet this ash tree, several meters tall, towered over the beloved roses beneath that seemed unconcerned with the lack of light they would receive under its impregnable umbrella.
Beneath the single ash tree lay a man, naked and barren, absorbing the sunlight of the rising sun as if one of the flowers itself. His back to the moss covered bark, he was mesomorphic, rugged, but held an atmosphere that made him handsome in his own right.With a face shaped like a diamond his accentuated jaw and thick black eyebrows with sharp inclines on the points of each, spaced evenly apart, he was beautiful but held a certain weight of pride. A roman nose, iridescent eyes that held the cosmos within them, thick lips that glistening in the morning sun— he was the personification of what many human beings strove to be. Yet...his face: it wore indifference even as serenity clung to all that existed in this sacred place. Where was this? Who was he?
Drawing breath for the first time in days, more of a formality than it were a necessity, he sighed.
Much like another certain eternal he was but a fragment of the true whole. The truth was scary and perhaps even complex, but rather than becoming two pieces, or even three, he was dozens. Many smaller than others, and the few who wore the semblance of infinito draconis within their very souls sometimes unbeknownst to themselves. One such man, a soldier of a feared theocratic empire, Evaristus Sicamedes, had been one of them.
Who? Evermore. The strongest swordsman of Valucre; honored knight of Kadia and Throne of Balance. Feared as the iron gavel of Alterion there were none who dared challenge him in the time where his power was true manifest, in the prime of his youth he was unstoppable so much that even the king himself did not dare to challenge him. The symbol of strategy and work ethic he became a shimmering beacon alongside Cornelius for which the kingdom had begun to unite the magical world underneath one banner of truth, and any who crossed his blade were struck down without ever revealing the truth of what the Sicamedes School had to offer. Revered as the sacred art of swordsmanship separated from his divine blessings and all that the world knew, some claimed it to have originated in Rosinder, yet the truth was even rarer than the art itself.
It came from beyond, a world that none had trekked or even allowed themselves to even begin to comprehend. The originator lay in the grass, a behemoth of muscle that took in the rays of light in silent zen. After Evaristus' death, the Infinity Dragon who took the form of a perfect human being (atleast in his own eyes), took it upon himself to find the piece of him that had fallen to the demon by an angel's name, and after doing so, he annihilated that very enemy himself without lifting a finger. Yes, in comparison to Evaristus who was world's ahead of many, Adell Illiandes Laemington, The Immortal Light, but to most, The Infinity Dragon, was in a league that not many even knew existed. Worlds burned at his behest underneath a condescending gaze, and others were outright crushed under a fist so tight that nothing could exist within. No longer a warmonger of belligerence, or a scion of hope, he had become something that lacked a moral compass altogether. In a world where many lived and died all the same, it was only when he formed The Eternals that he realized his purpose; or perhaps his lack thereof.
“I do believe Zaratras loved you...”Adell murmured to the tree, staring directly into the sun that could never burn as bright as he, even if it appeared to.
“And what a fool he was to do so. This is why he is dead. Emotions of folly can only coexist without pain in dreams...”
His left hand combed through the blades of ethereal grass soaked in beads of ether reminiscent of water, though glowing as did all life here. The sun, the grass, this tree. It was special, somehow, atleast to he whom he had absorbed only moments prior. Virtrius...Evaristus...If the student of that man could feel his life force it would inevitably bring him here, to a world isolated away from the rest, a place he would only feel was separated from Valucre when it was too late. Once one stepped foot in this land of dreams their life would change forever, for better or for worse, only the sun man could decide.
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Post by patyofurniture on Jun 19, 2018 9:12:24 GMT
Jackson couldn't explain anything that happened.
One moment he had been standing over the body of his teacher, and the greatest swordsman in Valucre, Evaristus Sicamedes. In his grief, he had blocked out the rest of the world; so wouldn't have heard whatever it was that had happened... if it was something that could be heard at all. All he knew was that his mentor had disappeared in front of him, and the next thing he knew he was floating through space. He had lost his mask at some point along the way, yet the silence in the void was almost deafening. He called out, but nobody responded, his voice not even echoing in the vast area he found himself in.
He had no idea how much time passed between when he entered the void and when he came out of it. There was no sun, no moon, no stars; nothing to mark the passage of time. Slowly he began to feel his senses leave him; first sight, than sound, and finally touch. The experience of existing without feeling was indescribable; though if asked he would definitely say it was unpleaseant. But eventually, once all other senses had faded he somehow became aware of something he could not before; he was moving.
It wasn't long after this realization that he emerged into a world of flowers and hills. When he hit the ground the sun was high in the sky, but when he woke up the moon had replaced it. He rose to his feet and checked himself over; finding that his simple clothing of trousers, boots, and shirt were still there, but he had lost his sword. But before he had time to dwell on it he felt something, something that he couldn't describe, but he knew instantly what it was.
"Master..."
Jackson started running toward the direction where the feeling was the strongest. He ran all out, not stopping until the sun had once again switched places with the moon in the sky. By that time he had come to stand on a hill, overlooking a valley with an ash tree in the center, underneath which lay a man. He couldn't make out the mans form, but the sensation told him it was Evaristus. Having caught his breath, he began to run toward the tree, eager to know what had happened.
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Post by Hero on Jun 21, 2018 18:43:57 GMT
This place was not governed by the laws of the physical world. Lunar cycles and astrology dissolved into mysticism and something pure beyond words. None of it made any true sense to an outsider, someone who was alive and had never died, but to Adell Illiandes Laemington, a man who had died twice before and returned, he found a certain peace in it all. When Jackson first arrived Adell's body became wrapped in a milky light ethereal and bliss. This light, brighter than the sun, and the droplets of mana around them, was the very spirit of his inner dragon lingering around him, obscuring even his face from view. For what reason? It mattered not his face, or who he appeared to be, The Infinity Dragon was far more than what many had come to see.
Unlike Evaristus Sicamedes, of whom was now apart of him, that of which he had overcome was beyond a single world. Not only was he fighting the enemy of balance in a complicated existence beyond which most could never understand, but the gestalts or (or fractals) were also acting in the name of he who was once known as The God Dragon. Across many parallels, dimensions, worlds, galaxies, universes entirely, pieces of his soul like regenerative skin was cast beyond to touch all that it could. While his intention could very well be what many naive people considered evil, the purpose of it all was something the many could never understand. Not even Evaristus Sicamedes, who drew closer and closer to the truth before the concord of fate removed him from life. This was not the doing of his greater counterpart, but merely a crude twist of coincidence.
The wind here carried the voices of those who had passed on, whispering silently as Jackson wandered, only to realize that someone was beyond him, at an indiscernable distance. Everything remained ever shifting as if a wizard played with the reality of which this world was made true, and while that wasn't the case, it wasn't far from the truth. This was not the world of The Infinity Dragon, and there was a grand machination of understanding that one could bring themselves to understand if they studied the impeccable teachings of gnosis, but none of that was relevant for their exchange.
Not yet atleast.
“No and yes. I am Evaristus Sicamedes. However, I am also Sato Kaneda, Rion Leingod, Victor Zemarchus, Pankraz Vasilije, and half a dozen more...” Adell spoke, appearing almost as a man of ivory enshrouded in an impenetrable light at the base of a tree that stretched heavenward, silent but grand.
“In short...your master and your world are merely a smaller piece of the bigger puzzle. I, Evaristus, was merely a piece of my true self set forth to bring order to the world of Valucre. I am not God, nor do I associate myself with that which seeks to call itself true divinity. I am merely an observer willing to do as much as possible in the midst of his research to keep balance across all worlds and dimensions that I possibly can.”
Rising from where he once stood, the light stretched itself and condensed moreso to take the shape of a body, chiseled, though still very vague.
“The truth is...the world we come from...where we were always raised. The world we always knew...is strange. Unique, but still merely a piece of the grand puzzle. My death was meant to happen, a part of the progression that would move it forward. And so now my work there is done. And now, someone who is able to see me, and see this world, have a choice to make.”
His left and right hand outstretched to his sides, his arms rising as if preparing a ceremony, yet one did not come. In his left hand a blue flame, scorching hot, enough to tear at the mana about it, yet within it one could feel satisfaction and hope. In his right? A golden flame darker than the shimmering light that surrounded the vague silhoutte of The God Dragon but within it a clarity of truth and mystery.
“There is nothing more that I can tell you unless the choice is made. What matters to you most? Is it those that you have left behind? That you have sworn to save? The reason to began your conquest to seek power? The blue flame will set you on your path for that itself, and perhaps you will find the ending to your tale that you sought all along. Evaristus alone may return, although with the damage done by Gabriel I cannot guarantee that there won't be downsides. Still, the love of those close to you is powerful in mortal beings...”
“The golden light, however, is something you have never experienced before...I spoke once before of a smaller piece to a bigger puzzle. That is you, your world, and those involved within it...yet you can rewrite your purpose in this world with the knowledge gained in everything that exists beyond. What you learn may set you on a path to grow in power, or in ways that you never thought imaginable. This is, however, only if it is appealing to you.”
And so the two arms lowered side by side, outstretched before Jackson, where one of his hands would have to reach out and grasp one with confidence.
“Who do you want to be? Who do you want to become?”
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Post by patyofurniture on Jun 25, 2018 8:30:29 GMT
The light of the golden flame was alluring; its glow promising knowledge and power, but more than that, a chance to start again. A chance to reshape his life, to decide his own purpose and pursue it without limitation. Maybe he could even rid himself of the curse he had carried all his life; have a chance to know his parents. All that and more was held within that flame; Jackson could feel it just as surely as he could feel its heat. All of that power...
But for what?
Looking back on the majority of his life was like looking into a void; as he had spent most of his years alone, doing only what was necessary for survival. There was no passion there; nothing extraneous to distract him from the work that consumed his life. Work had to consume his life, for if he stopped to look around he would realize how alone he truly was; and he wasn't sure he could bear the weight of it. So he didn't think about it, and even if he wasn't happy, at least he wasn't miserable.
And then the Orphans of Izral had come into his life like a sun rising over a hill to scour the darkness from his life. For the first time he had known the warmth of camaraderie; the joy of having someone to share his life with. Though it had lasted scarcely longer than a blink in the course of his life, the light had remained; even once his friends were gone. Dimmer perhaps than it had been before, but enough to show him the way forward; a road that had led him to his master Evaristus.
Their relationship had never been a particularly close one; as from the beginning, the Sword Saint had made it clear he was only training Jackson for his own reasons. For the younger man this had worked out perfectly; as Evaristus's goal had been for Jackson to kill the man who had taken his friends from him; the entire reason he had sought out training in the first place. Still, the Saint had never been cruel to Jackson and had given him a place to call home while he trained. And every once in a while when he performed a new technique flawlessly, he was sure that he saw something like pride warm the other man's features.
Yes, the golden flame promised him power and knowledge like he had never known before... but what was the point of having it if he had to give up all the reasons he wanted it in the first place?
So without speaking, Jackson reached out and closed his hand around the blue flame; and then waited for whatever came next.
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Post by Hero on Jun 28, 2018 14:23:54 GMT
Jackson was human, but the chance of a lifetime gave him the opportunity to transcend those mortal limitations.
However, whether it was hubris, or the folly of emotions, he chose what his heart felt regardless of what the truth may have been. Truthfully, Adell would have done the same once upon a time, in a world where the white-haired vagabond lived for those around him to be happy as a hero above all else.
In the present space and time, however, none of that mattered to him.
“I concur with your choice,” Adell announced, the golden flame no sooner dissolving from his parallel hand, “Evaristus would be proud of you.”
From the tree beyond that had a history born of conflict but beauty all the same, was born a body. Attached by neon green mucus shimmering with ether a pure face covered in golden hair emerged first, and then a naked body, tall, lithe, but athletic. Duke Evaristus Sicamedes no longer a duke but still the man who had been reclaimed by the Etherstream emerged, falling face first into the the soft grass quietly from behind Adell. The metatemporal representation of a golden scion that Jackson had been speaking with began to transform, the golden aura collapsing inward into the hue of a man who existed but appeared to be a ghost all the same. His usually ivory suit gleamed gold as did his skin, shoes, and even hair, covered in mystical ether derived of phenomenology that almost broke what it meant to exist here.
“I have given Evaristus back to the world, you may take him and—”
Two bodies moving in symmetry, a naked swordsman disappeared from the grass as did Adell, only shockwaves becoming minutely visible of their exchange.
When they reappeared, Evaristus was but a fraction to Jackson's right with a trickle of blood falling slowly from his crown, and a scowl of hatred aimed at Adell who stood only a few meters ahead of them.
Adell's hands being seated in the pockets of his slacks, his right hand lifted and snapped, clothing Evaristus in the same attire he wore before he died.
“I would be careful, Jackson just gave up more than he can imagine to bring you back to life, I would hate to take that back away from him.” Adell sneered, his youthful yet arrogant facade looking down upon the two.
“Jackson listen to me,” Evaristus panted desperately, pushing off the ground to stand to his feet with poise, a demeanor of royalty filling his bones. With another breath drawn, “We have to kill this thing.”
“Bahahahahahahahahahaha!”
Adell's voice cackled, slowly becoming multi-toned, hundreds of pitches fading into one another in hysterical laughter. As he laughed, Evaristus continued.
“This is bigger than Kadia, than Valucre. We will return home, but before we do, this evil must be punished. Planets and planets of people have become decimated by an archaic form of balance that never truly existed. I have seen the truth within his heart, as we are one in the same. If he is allowed to continue existing, I fear Valucre may become next.”
Evaristus was never one for many words, or to feel fear at all, but this superseded anything they had faced or experienced in Valucre. Even the vampire who was responsible for his death, Gabriel, paled in comparison to this maddening evil.
“You don't understand anything do you. Well Jackson? Will you blindly follow your master's orders or help him see reason? You know this can only end one way.” Adell shouted to Jackson, ignoring Evaristus altogether. What was the power gap between them all? Just how powerful was Adell? And would this world have anything to do with what he was capable of? Furthermore, would killing him here truly mean the end? So many questions that Jackson didn't have the answer to, but the clock was ticking.
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Post by patyofurniture on Jul 1, 2018 11:24:09 GMT
Jackson was conflicted.
On the one hand, he trusted his master's judgment implicitly; as the man had never lied to him, or been anything but completely honest. If he truly believed that this Adell needed to be killed for the good of the universe, then he was inclined to believe him. Still, if it hadn't been for Adell, Evaristus would still be dead. While the man was certainly odd, Jackson didn't think he was evil. Then again, he could also feel that the man was powerful; certainly more so than Jackson himself. At the moment, he didn't know if they could win.
He took the sword on his hip, still in its sheath, and extended it to his master. He looked at him, and carefully considered his words before speaking.
"Master... If you tell me we must fight this man then I will fight beside you. But I have to say that without him, I never could have revived you. And even if we must fight him... I'm not sure we can win."
Jackson turned his gaze back to Adell, "But if you ask me to, I will fight just the same."
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