Legend of Ransera

"The prelate and the poet." Aværys chortled lightly as He repeated the alliterative sentiment, "E'en now dost the poet ply his vocation in so saying."

His attention was drawn to up and to the right, where Vrædyn began to unfasten his belt preparing to give more of himself to the water, it seemed.

"For you, Deus, I might wax evangelical..." Stripping the last of his vestments, the pretty pontiff slid down to join the other two on the submerged bench seat. "It is strange. I always fancied ours to be a crusader culture."

"And so it is. It is merely that I would expand upon our methods of conquest. When I was reborn in this fetching form, lads, I was an eruption of righteous rage set upon the goal of reordering our society... righting it. I was a blade forged in the fires of grief and fury. There is still a place in My church for the conqueror, to be sure, but We must verily acquaint Ourselves better with this new age ere We launch into such an enterprise. It is through ye that We shall receive some of that education." His attention turned to Finn at his assertion and the Founder smiled, pleased that it came as a proclamation, rather than an entreaty.

"Thou art." He agreed, lifting his head if only that he might nod it in affirmation. He shifted his body slightly away from Vrædyn to face Finn more directly, eyeing him with new and thorough scrutiny as if those golden eyes peered beyond his fleshly form into something far deeper.

"There are many who claim Leh'anafel lineage, aye, albeit fewer who bear it in sooth. Thou, Finn... thou dost stand amidst the latter and the smaller number. So I say: Strike thee up that ancient orchestra. Wake hearts and sway them toward thee. Thou art born to inspire and fit to command." He took in a deep, meditative breath and exhaled it in a contented sigh, before leaning to kiss Finn upon his cheek.

"Think thee how much more beautiful this world will be for thine effort."

Aværys' ease seemed to flood out of His nimbus and pour directly into the Emblems of his Radiant as it waxed. After whispering his warm words against Finn's flesh, he turned to regard Vrædyn as the human suggested they collaborate.

"Art and Faith have ever been intimate friends." Vrædyn observed with an affirming nod to Finn. "We might aid each other."

The God-Emperor of Solunarium kissed that pale cheek, next. The two were similarly complected, and neither of a hue that resembled his own Hytori bronze. At Finn's demurring, Aværys arched an eyebrow as he withdrew his lips from the face of the Princeps Pontifex.

"The modern Solunarian church hath not the wisdom to fully understand Our religion, Finn. Their scripture was cobble together from our quotations and edited by mortals with their own agendas who could not reach Us. We were ill-prepared for Our fall. When one hath Ambition, Hunger and Pow'r as His domains, hubris doth stowaway withal." Aværys observed, sounding more amused the regretful over his past folly. He had been well and truly punished, after all.

"Your 'concience' concerneth Me not if thou dost follow My tenets. Pow'r cometh in many forms, and I care not whether thou dost follow the strictures of the Solunarian church, so long as thou dost honour Me and the pillars of My domains. Mine only quarrel with 'conscience', child, is where it doth stand athwart the due course of advancement. I cannot abide that brand of selflessness that doth offset a path to personal puissance, nor humility that hampers hunger." He looked deeply, now, into Finn's pale eyes.

"Do you understand what Mine attention doth betoken? What My Mark doth declare? It proclaimeth that in the schema of the great hierarchies that do sustain stability in this world, thou art special." His hand slid down both their backs to rest at the small, just lightly resting on the shelves of their rears.

"Superior. Canst thou brook that designation, or wilt thou disappoint Me in demurring from thy due?"

Aværys chuckled at Finn's reference to his trial at Kaladon.

"Selflessness, perhaps, but humility?" He chuckled, "What I saw thither was willfulness. Courage withal, for it doth take a brazen heart to defy the Divine as thou hast. Were thou Solunarian raised and behaved thus, We might have let thee burn." He shrugged cavalierly and kissed Finn's shoulder. "But I am pleased We let thee live. Thou'rt so precious a beauty to blithely discard, sweet human." The deity smiled encouragingly as Finn's acquiescence.

He sniggered heartily at Finn's allusion.

"Chains are the domain of My sister-bride. All relationships have their tethers, but I do not believe thou dost hamper nor hinder thine amatus. If ye both be wise, thou twain shalt rise the faster for the influence of the other." He tipped his head back to laugh at that last question, as Finn did the same. Even Vrædyn joined in, albeit half a moment after the other two- as if nervous to dare to make merry at the mention of dragons.

"Peace! Speak soft when thou dost invoke dragons in jest! But to answer thy query: In general? Næ. Gods and dragons are thy betters, but... There are ways in which thou art superior to e'en the loftiest of creatures. Mortality hath boons denied to them for whom time hath less meaning. Explore thyselves, my Radiant, and learn what maketh thee peerless."

Vrædyn listened attentively, though he seemed disinclined to contribute much to the exchange. Perhaps it was his natural deference to the God to whom he'd devoted his life far more than most. He rather wished he had Finn's ease, since it seemed to be welcomed by the Rex Regnum.

"Alas! I have had time abounding to practise my prattle, imprisoned as I was lo, these several millennia. If Mine oratory be florid, it be in part for the trends of the time I last spake these tongues, and in part for the sewn seeds of idle ages." Aværys sighed in satisfaction. He was free and surrounded by beauty in profusion.

"You should be so fortunate." The Rex Regnum granted, at Finn's expressed hope for familial bonds with the draconic line of his lover. "They are covetous creatures, our Zalkyrians, but passing loyal. I would not fain find Myself at odds with them, but I have been blessed with their favour, ever since the murder of My firstborn lifetimes ago..." He trailed off, a wisp of wistfulness pervading the hedonism for a trice.

Vrædyn cocked one of his prominent eyebrows at the sense of an incursion into his Symphony. The last time Finn had made such an overture, it had been met with chastisement. On this occasion, Vrædyn's hackles lowered promptly enough and he sighed.

"My position was never promised. The youngest son of His Divine Radiance saw to that when he contrived the Sol'Aværys laws of succession in the aftermath of the Rending. My loyalty was to the Crown when the Crown was the closest bridge to the Founders I could find. But now I sit in the presence of my messiah- His chosen." The light eyes of the prince scanned the tanned bronze skin of the Deus Imperator, and then across to Finn. It occurred to him that both he and this human were pale-skinned, dark-eyed creatures in the vein of Varvara herself. Did the King of Kings, perchance, have a 'type'? He cast that from his mind as soon as he noted the broadening of Aværys' grin that seemed to suggest he was aware of the line of thought.

"My allegiance is first to Him, of course, but... We are brothers after a fashion now, Farstrider. Linked by this mark that only we in all the world do bear. In the presence of the Master of Majesty, all lesser bonds of fealty are forfeit. I am His creature. Beyond that? I am still getting the lay of the shifting land."

"Take comfort, Minstrel. The Princeps Draconum, firstborn son and heir to the Crownwyrm and chosen of Varvara Imperatrix, hath lofty protectors who share that burden with thee." Aværys observed, "And if his heart be true to the common cause that doth bind Atraxian hearts, both Divine and Draconic, then he will remain under the watchful eye of the Exalted. The politics thou wouldst be wisest to fear are those that wend outside of Solunarium's sands. Though long We have rested, We have enemies with long memories..."

Vrædyn cleared his throat and spoke up.

"When it comes to the internal politics, Farstrider, your amatus is the son of their deftest conductor who doth employ thee in her clandestine order. As we are now in a brotherhood of our own, you may also rely upon me to help you navigate the mire, as well."

Aværys slid off the bench seat and out of the arms of His chosen, rising to slowly wade through the warm waters, sniggering at Finn's query.

"Mistake Us not, child. In solitude, We were only brought closer... fortified in the righteousness and virtue of Our crusade. Our will is as one, and We will stand together unto æternity or oblivion. But I do hope, in either instance, We bring more hearts into the fold of Our great work. Alas," He turned back to face them,

"Patience is a necessity, albeit an irritating one. I have played enough at interloping, this day. Worry not, My Radiant Ones, I shan't intrude upon thine every rendezvous. With My resurrected liberty, I find Myself a bit... indulgent. Eager to soak up the pleasures long abjured from My senses. But I remain master of Mine impulses, and well I know that the sweetest pleasures are cultivated o'er time.

"Fare thee well, My Empyreal Exemplars." He turned to ascend the steps out of the bath, the dimples of His bare arse shifting with the taut, chiseled muscles doing their graceful work so clearly beneath bronze skin. "Be about the work of empire building, and always remember that the Golden Path slopes ever upward." His Divine Nimbus seemed to glow brighter as He said a Vastian word that seemed to bear particular potency as He uttered it.

"Excelsior!"

And in a flash of sunlight, He was gone.