the start of how it all ends

[Florian]

FLORIAN

34 Searing 122
12:26 PM

The Hobbled Gobbler was still standing. He could see Rickter and Franky defending it. Even from this distance he could see where the mists stopped, and where Lyra's scrivening marked the walls. Lyra had time to prepare defenses — no wonder it was still together — but his attention was drawn away altogether by something else. Before any new beasts had time to notice him, before he could approach the safe ground, he saw the beams into the sky from directly across the city, crumbling the Presidium in seconds. He saw, from his place on the Bulge, how beasts and men alike were pulled into aethereal vortexes, killed instantly with nothing left where they had stood, and fought, and died. It did not matter if they were already corpses. He could see the magic swirling over the city.

Lyra did not just have time to save the tavern. She had time to enact her vengeance. Now, more importantly than anything, he had to find her.

He turned tail, the newspaper he had carried fluttering to the ground in his wake.

—
I'm a princess cut from marble, smoother than a storm
And the scars that mark my body, they're silver and gold
My blood is a flood, of rubies precious stones
It keeps my veins hot, the fire's found a home in me
—

1:00 PM

Though the cracked chasm in the sky only grew with the display, the beasts that filled the streets had lessened. Florian stalked them quietly, if only to avoid detection by the ones that survived, but he had few encounters and even fewer difficulties in dealing with them. His stores of aether far surpassed what he had ever realized, and he was still running out of energy. Even his ascendance could not provide infinite power.

Around his starfall crater he once more saw the Aetherite statues. With some desperation, he broke off the solid, outstretched fingers of what had been a man just three hours prior and swallowed them, his anatomy long since modified by the good doctor Constantine and his works. He did not have the time to wonder if it would work, and his stomach felt odd with the intrusion. These aetherite shards were strong and pure, and with less than a thought he found himself invigorated. Good.

He had to walk around the crater to reach the main road through towards Willoby Street, and beyond, where their manor lay on the West End. It had been close to the Presidium, but far enough out onto a manicured property that it may have been spared some of the explosion. The results of it didn't matter to him. He was a man of little material want. The Hobbled Gobbler had been spared, and his intrusion through their defenses would have only weakened them. But he was safe from the mists, somehow, by glory of his ascension or by the power of his magic. He didn't spare it enough thought, in case it may have then ceased to exist simply for being observed.

There was a lull. Much of the mists had died down from the act, and though they poured from the sky, they took time to still spread. Florian was still a few miles to the manor; whether he found Lyra there or not wasn't up to him. But he had a feeling he would.

—
I move through town, I'm quiet like a fight
And my necklace is of rope, I tie it and untie it
And now people talk to me, but nothing ever hits home
People talk to me, and all the voices just burn holes
—

2:00 PM

There was less of a manor and more of a landmark, stalwart against green-brown grass and surrounded by the dread mists that had poured from the merged-rift above the Presidium. Florian's movement cut a swathe through it. Remarkably, he was safe, his power combined keeping the mists at bay around him. Every so often a tendril would pry through his defenses and dissipate in seconds. Up the slight slope of the property, he watched for disturbances — and Lyra — in the mist.

[Chronicle]

What remained of Lyra's manor was nothing more than a bleak reminder of the life she built here, of the work she toiled away with as she created her elaborate design for the ascension. There was no mistaking the fact that She was the happier one now, ever defiant of the call that was felt when the Outsider was born anew. Thus as she walked up toward the slope a jubilant laugh soon filled the mists, each and every one of the tendrils hissing out of existence when they drew close to Florian.

Another laugh but this one seemed more intrigued than before, as the cobblestone walkway leading up the slope soon experienced an overgrowth of vines. Black thorny vines spread gradually up toward the front of the manor, until they reached the point where the Demigod's aura kept them at bay also. That didn't stop them from spreading elsewhere at the boundary's edge, while each new vine that cropped up soon dissolved into dust in Florian's vicinity.

"Well now, aren't you interesting!" A figure approached from within the Dreaded Mists, sounding so much like Lyra but somehow not at the same time. Darkened mist danced about her hair and form as she came into view, her black hair nearly merged with the the chaotic mists as the rest of her form solidified with her gait. Pale skin made her seem like an aetherial ghost within the black dress she had manifested, the thorny vines surrounding her as prismatic eyes fell upon the Lysanrin from where he stood.

It was ironic that She came here but that was only because She wanted her other half to, never did Ryla expect to find herself meeting the one that unleashed the first wave of chaos unto the city. "I suppose I have you to thank as well for this. Ryla sneered with a lofty grin as she approached the manor, keeping her distance from Florian just outside the boundary of his aura. "Tell me," she then inquired with a lift of her chin toward the Lysanrin, "how does it feel knowing all this death, all this chaos, stains even your hands little Florian? Hm?"

The sheer look of utter delight on Ryla's face lingered as she curled a finger near her eye, her other arm folded over her chest as she giggled and started into a dance of twists. It was plain as day that she was far more delighted, rather reveled, within the insanity that had been born from the Rift above.

"Ryla"

[Lyra]

Freedom, wonderful, glorious freedom that Lyrielle had desired for too long. She flew through the air on the winds of chaos, scattering like mist before reforming her new body just so that she could feel the pull of gravity just long enough to dissipate and fly onwards. That pull of the other her kept her focused, and though she laughed at the journey her golden eyes were firmly set on the destination. What was left of her manor quickly came into view, and she fell upon the structure as a wave of smoke that paused just before reaching the walls to flow in small circles around the entire property.

Her senses were on fire, the world bathed in light and when she looked down she saw... Something unexpected. A soul, so large and complicated that Lyrielle could not fully grasp it in mere seconds, but looking past the images of chains and shackles she saw... a Lysanrin with a broken horn, and eyes that were familiar.

Several pieces clicked into place, and she inwardly sighed. Her attention then was pulled toward the other woman, one who sang a song similar to her own. Looking at her soul Lyra saw thorns and open wounds, flesh that had begun to rot, and from the symphonies, Lyrielle heard wickedness. She knew this part of herself, for it was this her that many of the stories of old belonged to.

From her essence a body formed, skin pale and eyes a scarlet gold. Silver hair fell in waves as she slowly lowered herself down between the two, but she gave Florian only a passing smile before turning her attention to her other self.

"I found you, and this time you will not escape."

[Florian]

First came part of Lyra, so close in appearance but in some ways inverted. It was like a reflection of her, almost her, not quite her, not quite all of her — and though she taunted him, she stayed just out of reach. She knew and he knew that if he so desired, he could overpower her. But it was not his place. He didn't respond, and before he could, the mists of Lyrielle descended near them, and coalesced into someone who was familiar, but someone he did not quite recognize. But he knew her mark, and he knew it to be Lyra. She passed him a smile, but she was not there for him.

"You were successful," He said, quiet. He knew what she was going to do, but he did not realize she had known to do it now until it had already happened. Her works of scrivening, symbols he recognized but did not understand, had been scattered throughout Zaichaer, and he had seen them as he came to their manor. He walked opposite of Lyra, the doppelganger in the middle.

Though the city was devastated, Florian was focused on this. He looked between the two of them. "You are both you?" He asked, not exactly sure if he was understanding the situation properly. He stepped closer to the other, her vines that had spread now melting with each step. Gaze turned to Lyra. "How can I help?"

[Chronicle]

And so She came.

Ryla's eyes narrowed up to the heavens as the black smoke swirled about, her other half's tangible presence all the more stronger now that they were in such close proximity. They stood from one another and yet it was almost like looking into the mirror, the two fragments of Lyrielle seeing too completely separate variants of themselves. One had committed herself to the throes of chaos as the other did the song of souls, but it was the statement of no escape that merited a lofty giggle.

"Escape? Dear me," Ryla cooed as if she were hardly intimidated by that fact, "even if I were to leave why would I want to? What you've both created here will be all I ever need! With this!" Her hands rose to gesture to the Great Rift that loomed over the broken city, the howling of the wind reminiscent of the million screams haunting the sky above. "I can unleash chaos anywhere in the world!"

Florian's inquiry led Ryla to look at him suspiciously with a grin, her eyes noteful of his careful approach to stand at the fragment's back. "Help? But you've done so much already, dear Florian, what more could you possibly hope to achieve?" Ryla sneered back to her other half then as the prismatic glow in her eyes brightened. "I am Chaos Reborn! And I refuse to..." Her attention then shifted into something in the breeze, as though she had noticed something there that Lyra had not. Lyrielle would notice a faint song that resonated in Ryla, however, of that same unyielding hunger she would've been familiar with several months ago.

"What!? No!" The fragment screamed in defiance at the air next to her, ignoring Florian entirely now as she threw her arms down in utter defiance. "So what does it matter if she has the rest of the shards! That's not going to stop me from taking back what's mine!"

Ryla then looked scornfully at Lyra with her eyes glaring, her balled hands outstretched to where her fingers pointed at the ground. "You've done exceedingly well, almost aggravatingly so, just to cause all this and undermine what was to be my ascension." She spat in disgust as the briars of thorns began to multiply around her, with terrifying shrills and shrieks filling the tattered streets of Zaicher beyond Lyra's mansion. "I refuse to reunite with clearly what has been an imitation of me!" She finally finished as the briars started to protrude from her body, though the network of vines that were coalescing toward Florian still remained at bay by the antimagic field he generated.

"I will drown this world in Entropy!" Ryla then threatened as she raised her hands once more, beckoning the mists around them to heed her call. The fragment continued to glare at Lyra defiantly, determined to face her even with the incredibly vast differences in their power now.

"Ryla"

[Lyra]

Lyrielle's lips twitched slightly at the other woman's words, but she said nothing in return. She merely stared at the thing in front of her, eyes focused and almost pitying. Through the symphonies, Lyrielle could hear its anger, its indignation, and something else which made her raise an eyebrow.

Did I always talk this much? Lyrielle wondered idly, raising from the ground to float a few inches above it. The dark lines over her body moved in random patterns over her skin, and her eyes glowed softly in the dim light of the mist-covered world.

Her eyes traveled to Florians where he now stood just behind the other her, "Keep it here."

She then looked at Ryla and raised a single hand to point in her direction. In reply to the entirety of the tirade, the threats, and the insults, Lyrielle uttered a single word with a smile that grew so wide it split her face, the ends trailing off into smoke.

"No."

Then Lyrielle unfolded herself, dark smoke billowing out as black liquid dripped from the lines over her body and began to pool on the ground. Her skin began to move, what looked like fingers pressing out from beneath its surface, and where the black lines moved her body became transparent. Faces gaped out, hands pushing as if trying to break free of the flesh that bound them. She let her aura grow, and for the first time, Lyrielle did not restrain herself.

The mark on her chest caught fire and the shadows of the world drew inward toward her, flowing up her form and body in new lines of misty darkness that intermingled with what was already there. She then focused the entirety of her attention on Ryla, and resonated with their souls. With a powerful wave of magic Lyrielle took hold of the other her's symphonies, and with a twist shattered them like glass. A flick of her fingers and tendrils of shadows reached upward, grasping at Ryla, attempting to bind her and restrain her.

"You are mistaken." Lyrielle whispered, floating closer, hand outstretched, eyes filled with vengeance, "We are all imitations because we are all the same. You will return to me little shard, and we will fulfill our desire together."

[Florian]

He mostly ignored Ryla; she was obnoxious, even to him, and by the threats she made, she too knew she was outmatched by either one of them, let alone the both. Without the rest of Lyra to temper her out, she didn't seem an enjoyable presence. Lyra called the shadows and the mark on her chest burned. The fire was stronger than his was, usually, more imbued with the power of Killian. Visions of souls trapped beneath her skin and the magic that poured forth was both horrifying sight and a confident display of power he could only envy. He had no time to grapple with the meaning of what had really happened to him with the dragon who he knew in every fiber of his being was his divine mother, and he had less time to fully pull that power out of him.

Florian clasped his hands together, though he could, he did not assist Lyra in binding her shard. "Finish with this shard, Lyra, and we have much to talk about." The whorling rift above them, that spread over Zaichaer, coughed out the mists. No remaining monsters wandered close to them yet. It was a thankful continued lull in activity that had yet to resurge on what remained of their property.

[Chronicle]

Ryla's ever shifting eyes narrowed on Lyra now as the Outsider denied her, the silent scoff in her stare prominent before the billowing of smoke warranted surprise. Ryla hadn't the chance to even react when the many faces of those consumed screamed at her, when their hands all came around to envelope her form with dreaded ease. Prismatic tendrils soon stemmed off of Ryla as her blackened vines proceeded to lengthen, deadly prickers determined to stab off her body and roots as she struggled. To no avail, however, for the magical hold Lyrielle now took was far mightier than the fragment's own resilience.

Still, Ryla defied her with every ounce of power in her body, sneering and even hissing as she denied the Outsider at every turn. "NO!" Even now she looked to Lyrielle with seething hatred, her teeth clenched as the tendrils of her prismatic smoke were absorbed. Lyrielle's black smoke drew Ryla in, taking every sliver of her into the Outsider's being as the outer surface of Ryla began to shudder. "Let me GO!" Her vines continued to fail her from Florian's antimagic, but even then, they were ineffective against Lyrielle before fading out entirely. "Let.. me..." Stubborn as she was Ryla started to weaken, her draining essence soon filling Lyrielle as the powers of Chaos were joining with her.

A bloodcurdling scream came out from the waning fragment as her figure became more ethereal, turning into the prismatic mists that merged and blended into Lyra's own body. Within moments of her defiance came an unsettling defeat, one that filled Lyra with even greater power as the Mists began to swirl around her. Beneath her Rune of Vitalis a new mark manifested itself upon her flesh, the prismatic symbol of Entropy that belonged to her reclaimed piece. It was as Florian had addressed her with the need to talk that the Chaos around them shifted, dying down only by a small degree now that Lyra had full control of the forces surrounding her.

Within the palm of Lyra's hand rested a residual piece that resided in Ryla, the obsidian fragment of a weapon she had yet to fully restore. And yet...

Just as they were now left alone at the front of Lyra's ruined manor, the sharp cry of an obnoxious firework filled the sky, as a shining comet rose into the skies above Zaichaer, before firing itself further into the heavens with a mighty push of force.

"Ryla"

[Lyra]

Though the shard resisted, the conclusion was inevitable. With a final wave of her hand, the shadows engulfed her, dragging her bodily toward Lyrielle's outstretched hand. There was no mercy in those burning gold eyes, and all please fell on def ears. Piece by piece Lyrielle stripped the woman of her form, chunks of smoke flowing and being consumed by the bubbling black liquid that now reached upward, dragging her down, filling her eyes and open mouth to cut off the final scream before the other her was consumed completely. Around her the prismatic smoke mixed with the black, the latter overtaking and absorbing the former until nothing remained.

A pain blossomed inside of Lyrielle, enough to make her grimace and clutch at her stomach with one hand. Her eyes opened wide as a flood of memories assaulted her consciousness, and with them an even greater flood of emotions. Anger, hatred, disgust, agony... and something more, something larger which made all her past feelings pale in comparison. Like an erupting volcano, this emotion came, and the faces of people she had all but forgotten slashed their way into her mind once again. A man with a scar on his cheek, a woman with purple eyes, and a girl who smiled too sweetly to be an elf. Hatred was engulfed by Wrath, pure and blazing, and then so cold that Lyrielle clutched at her shoulders to keep them from breaking apart like glass.

"An emori..." I remember...

Seconds passed as Lyrielle hovered there, the souls within struggling so fiercely that it seemed her skin should tear. Faces now pushed out in full, showing teeth like razors before long fingers dragged them back inside. Steadily the raging storm within and around settled, smoke condensing back into Lyrielle's skin as she floated down to the grown once more. The black liquid slowly inched up her body as well, rejoining the black lines that still moved frantically even as Lyrielle's skin stopped moving. Straightening, golden eyes distant, Lyrielle glanced down at her clenched fist and slowly opened it to reveal an obsidian fragment. She then reach down and gently touched the new rune which rested just below her naval.

Looking up at Florian, Lyrielle smiled, "Forgive the interruption. I believe we have much to discuss."

Suddenly her attention was pulled away toward a bright flash in the sky. A comet or some work of magic streaked through the air, heading toward the rift and what lay beyond. Lyrielle's smile faded slightly, uncertain what it was she was looking at, but sensing someone she knew had just done something incredibly stupid.

[Florian]

Florian looked away as the display only grew more terrifying, making the executive decision he did not need to watch the piecemeal destruction of another being as it was reincorporated into the whole. The sounds were enough. Instead, he stared at where the rift hung over the Knob, or the remnants of it. Since it had combined with the second rift, there hadn't been much change —

His stomach sank with anxiety as he saw a light fly into it. He could not claim to know what it was, but it had shot from the Knob, and he had the sinking feeling that they would be dealing with further consequences from it very soon. He balled one of his hands into a fist.

"I..." He looked back at Lyrielle. She too was staring at the flash. "Let's not mind that right now." Florian sighed. "I met my mother. My other mother." He started, "A great dragon surrounded by the stars who showed me both her love and The Ways. I have no doubts that she is my mother."

"Part of this calamity was my doing, but you knew to prepare. How did you know? How did Franky?"