Swan Song (Rickter)

[Franky]

Searing 34, 122

Franky watched as Vanessa's ship took off, carrying the survivors of the Gobbler, leaving himself, Rickter, and Weston.

"I'm gonna go pour me a drink. If y'all ain't dead here soon, I'll pour you one."

Weston didn't know Rickter well, but anyone who had such a pure love for eating was usually decent enough. That and agreeing to this mission told the metal armed man all he needed to know. The man grinned slyly as he turned toward the Gobbler, side eyeing Rickter. "Maybe I'll cook you my famous camp beans too." Franky snorted, knowing this was Weston's own way of wishing them the best of luck. He was fairly certain Weston hadn't cooked a single meal since coming to work for Franky.

The man lit up a cigarette and disappeared into the Gobbler. Franky tightened the cinches on the pack he'd brought, his sword was tied up, and he kept his shield ready on his arm. Franky knew what he needed to do, in this crazy, far reaching attempt of his, all he needed was the way to get there. Looking over at Rickter, "So how do we go about this? I don't know what tricks you got, but this ain't gonna be a time for holding back. I have no guarantees about anything I'm gonna try. Just get me in that damn rift and try not to die in the process."

Franky opened his smoke box once more, which still contained his feather from Talon, pulling out two cigarettes, offering one to Rickter. "Goblin Weed makes everything easier." He struck his match on the stubble of his chin, lighting up his cigarette, pulling through it deeply. He savored the sweet stickiness, letting the warmth spread through his younger, more vigorous lungs. The last time he'd truly held this body, he was in a shitstorm in the Imperium, though not quite to this scale.

Maybe this body of his was cursed, a slight snort.

He looked down in his smoke box, realizing he was out of cigarettes. Fate had a funny way of making things work out. The last cigarette before the impossible was attempted. Whoever was in charge of all that must have a twisted sense of humor, but Franky could respect at least this tiny part of it. Franky saw a glint and smiled softly. He'd forgotten about that. He reached in and fished out the copper coin.

He held it up to the light, seeing it bounce off the dull sheen and his smile grew. It was the first coin a customer had given to the Gobbler, in exchange for some really crappy ale Franky had bought from a guy who was cleaning it out of his basement. This coin was one of Franky's most cherished possessions, it meant so much to him. And it was his last coin, the rest of them given as payment to Vanessa to get his people to safety. It was representative of him becoming someone new, something new, different from the soldier or the man twisted by his disfigurement at the hand of a nation who had given up on him, but still demanded more.

Franky flipped the coin into the air, offering it in tribute to the Goblin King, and for the first time asking something of the Goblin King, aloud. "If you could, watch over my family. All of them, not just the warts."

And the coin spun into the light of the rift, and just like last time, it never came back down.

"I'm ready when you are, Rickter."

And the severity in Franky's eyes showed that to be the truth. He was fully mentally prepared to die in this impossible attempt of his. Death might be the better option than if he was successful, but Franky was an inherently selfish man, and he did not wish to see this Rift destroy absolutely everything he'd come to love about his life in the last year. He would do anything to protect them.

Anything.

[Rickter]

Swan Song

Searing 34, 122, 122nd Year, A.o.S.

Rickter watched as that final curtain of hope took to the skies, admiring the irony with his role in this situation as he thought of Hannah. Then of home. Weston seemed inclined to take a load off and have himself a drink, even so much as offered to cook for Rickter should they actually make it back. Quite honestly, food even made him feel slightly nauseous to think about. As much as he loved it, the idea of going into certain death was terrifying. Nonetheless, the wolf offered the goblin a friendly grin at best, proud to have at least met another considerable good guy.

All this death. The chaos. How did one come back from this? Yet the wolf hadn't the time to linger on that now. In fact, there was no time to utterly assess the extreme resorts the wolf had to go through. To prepare for a Mist Storm of that capacity... Suicide or not, he believed in his heart he could do it. "Just gimme a second." He quietly murmured to his Hobgoblin companion while graciously accepting the cigarette, rubbing his finger and thumb over the tip to generate a spark. With a hearty inhale he winced at little before reflexively easing his shoulders with a sigh, indulging the purple smoke with a lengthy plume out of concentrated deliberation.

He looked from the Rift, to the Hobgoblin, to the three abjinurium stones still left inactive. With at least a little bit of time to breathe, he didn't have any trouble exercising some higher made wards. The problem is the consistency with momentum toward their goal, as he doubted he could fully rely on Tunneling alone to get up there. Although he did notice the crystalline structure of a body just a few yards outside the ward. It was by large an entirely huge long shot here, but with the right magics applied at the right moments, then he would see that they crashed through the heavens. How about that Talon... To think I would've literally done that for you hours ago.

What would've happened if he'd committed to his own path, hoping to bring justice on his own terms before carving the path to victory. All those people... if he'd done the same, would he have created something just as horrifying as this? It mattered little anymore. Because now he intended to achieve the exact opposite of that selfish goal! "Alright," He looked a tad terrified but kept his composure as he brought his hands together, "To keep you safe, I'm going to make you the anchor of our main barrier. Understand this, you are the mountain in that barrier, and your will has to remain ever strong against the forces you're about to feel."

Somehow he felt that an important detail Fanky might figure out, or that it was just a dumb metaphor to encourage him to remain strong. Either way, his firm expression lingered with a grim assessment in his eyes. "I must warn you this is entirely new territory for me. A lot about that is magic really," he felt almost on the verge of rambling as he kept the twitches in his hands steady with deep breathes, "but a lot of that learning comes from expressing. Or so I have found. So." at last he felt the caress of the minor high his goblinweed gave, the flavors tickling what senses of his nose he still had as he felt a sense of clarity sinking in. "I'm going to carry you in a special barrier, one that you specifically have to activate... with that." He pointed to the feather glowing within the tobacco box the Hobgoblin owned, as he shifted his gaze from Franky to the rest of the scene behind them.

"Getting up there isn't going to be easy, and you're going to feel a lot of force pulling you down while we're climbing those heights. But I can get us up there, only with no guarantee we'll be able to come back down, if at all." Of all the impossible odds this was the moment he seized his own destiny... Fuck... Seeing Franky do that tribute thing he'd done before brought the wolf out of his thoughts, a gentle grin slightly tugged at the corner of his lips for the man giving him that one final moment of solace. Rickter had honestly been too afraid to think about any of it now, the fact that he wouldn't get to see any of his family or friends ever again.

When Franky said he was ready the wolf then nodded, taking a step to place a hand onto the Hobgobln's shoulder. "You are either brave, or a fool, but I'll protect you to the very end." He promised before holding his other hand before Franky's chest. With steady breaths Rickter focused on weaving his aura around Franky, enveloping the Hobgoblin with a layer of his aether as he forged to serve as the center of his shield. His first task to weave into the ward, traversion, for the purpose of manipulating slipspace particles around the shield's protection. A second ward soon layered over the charging anchor, as Rickter's tasking of negation against the Dreaded Mists went into the programming of his ward. Finally, a third layer applied to reduce the weight of gravity within the barrier, allowing some slight relief against the pressure Rickter had described earlier.

Now onto the fun part. Franky's barrier lit up with a flash of the northern lights before a dome formed around the two, before Rickter breathed in deeply to focus on manipulating the first ward of the barrier. The aetheric shell contracted before gradually sizing down around Franky, before the barrier was shrank into the size of an orb in his hand. "Holy shit..." He didn't expect that to actually fucking work! Yet he managed to alter the fabric of slipspace within the barrier, allowing Franky to be held in a temporary pocket space for the time being. "All right..." He murmured with a bizarre yet curious look to the aetheryte statue. "All right then."

Without wasting another moment he approached the statue and placed his hands on it, undoubtedly knowing the extent of what he was about to do would extremely take its toll. But hey, suicide missions, right? What kept him going now even as he placed his hands on the shoulders of the statue, was the thought of the loved ones he wanted to see again. "Terribly sorry for this, but, hopefully, you know it's for a good cause!" The wolf wished to the aetheric requiem before him, before he reached out with his aether, and began to Osmose the aetheryte statue. Searing hot pain coursed throughout his fingers like never before, even the numb digits felt like aether had set them ablaze once more. Yet he just kept going, draining the aether from within as he took it all inside himself, his entire body soon flashing with bursts of northern lights, as the light within the statue soon faded until nothing was left.

The crystal faded into dust whereas Rickter released bouts of aetherial backlashes just aching to be released. Yet he held onto them, his entire body dipped in an ocean of aetheric fire deep inside. Yet he released Dominion to bolster his stamina and weather the magnitude, to embrace the now rising storm within him as he felt ready to enact the final part of this outrageous plot. The wolf walked cautiously toward the three abjinurium orbs now, taking a position within the center of their locations as they formed a triangle around him. Any longer and he would likely burst like the bomb he had made himself, yet with a steady placement of his hands together the wolf took in a deep breath to concentrate. He needed to weave the Abjinurium into the wards for this to work, thankfully, Lyra had made the hard part easier with her scrivening wards.

Thus with three aetherial chains lancing out from his aura, Rickter wove their protective properties in with the wards, integrated the reinforcements of the abjinurium with an added layer of Dawnfire for protection. It wouldn't likely hold for very long if they actually breached the Aetherium, but, it at least bought Franky that single moment to do what he needed... and for the wolf to enact his final will. He felt ready to burst as he focused on the collected energy within his aura, his eyes locked dead on the big hole within the sky gushing out mist. And to think this is how I go out fighting... Least, I know how you all felt now. The wolf accepted as he reflected on everything, understanding the hurt and suffering he'd already caused others for just being here.

But then look at all the lives he saved. If Rickter had learned anything from this event, it was that he wasn't afraid to tell Fate to shove it where the sun never shines. And with that courage still found in his heart, the wolf felt more than ever determined to succeed against all the odds. No matter the impossible. The wolf couldn't help but roar as he finally started to release the aether he collected, sourcing it into a Tunnel that then propelled them straight into the sky. Right away as his body soared into the air silver flames erupted around him, the barriers reinforcements activated to resist the intense waves they were about to endure.

Though Rickter knew for certain he had definitely over-crossed himself, for the aetherial fire within him only burned hotter the more he released it into the air.

"Every side attacks you when you don't pick sides."

"Common" "Synskrit" "Norvaegan"
"Rickter" "Alistor"

[Dreyfus]

☬ The Vampyre ☬

☬ 34th of Searing, Year 122, A.o.S ☬
Company: Rickter & Franky | Thoughts: Into the rift I go | Mood: Reckless, Curious

☬ Dante watched as Dimitri protested being on the ship instead of by his master's side. For some reason, it was hard even for the vampyre to see him like that. His enhanced vision subsided as he came to stand within earshot of Franky and Rickter, listening closely as they seemed to formulate some plan. It became clear that they were going into the rift itself, and he came to stand near them and peer out at the rip in reality.

He watched them as the wolf laid out his plan, causing the vampyre to watch curiously. It was definitely a plan, one that seemed complicated to the vampyre. He could simply use his ability of Vicissitude to craft wings for them to use to fly up there. If anything the main danger was the mists themselves. He knew at his current level of power, his rune of Vitalis would protect him from most of the mutations, as he could simply rip them from his body and regrow what was lost. He also knew his power in negation was subpar as he wasnt practiced enough in it to truly shield himself from it.

But what would be the point of having near immortality if you don't ever push the boundaries of that? With a deep breath, he would close his eyes, and began manipulating the flesh on his back. painting a picture of what he wanted. He envisioned the many avialae he witnessed while in Kalzasi and their wings. The first came bursting from the upper left shoulder, a massive wing of silver feathers, ones like Talon's. The next was fitted by blood red feathers, coming from his upper right shoulder.

Two more appeared beneath his left and right shoulder blade, and he found himself feeling uneasy as he tried to acclimate himself with the newly formed wings. Flexing his back muscles he found them flapping erratically at first, then in unison after some time. Now with wings to carry himself he looked over as it seemed Rickter and Franky were finished their preparations as well, only for the vampyre to watch as they rocketed themselves up into the air using magical means.

Dante refused to be outdone or left behind, placing an anchor on himself, and setting parameters to shield himself from the malicious aether. He set three of those, and then looked to the rift. He gathers the flux around himself, around his wings and feet, and with a massive push, shot off the ground. The acceleration was not something he was ready for, and the force of it almost knocked him out, but he fought through it, as his rune worked to keep him from experiencing the worst of it. Once at the height of his ascent, he would form a platform of condensed air with the flux, and use it as a springboard to push himself higher, using the flesh crafted wings to carry himself further and higher.

With each push he could see the mouth of the rift getting closer, he could see the trail of silver fire that was Rickter and Franky getting closer too. He didn't know what would be waiting on the other side, but he was ready to face it all the same. ☬

---

"Common Speech"
"Silandris Speech"
"Self-Thoughts"

---

[S E T T I N GxxT H E M E]

[Franky]

Franky was told to keep his will strong. He could do that. He would do that. He had to. Not just for the barrier, but because any sliver of doubt, any creeping idea that came through for this plan could ruin it. No, Franky's mind was steeled, just as it was when he killed Beatrix on that battlefield over a year ago. Making the hard choice was not the difficult part, it was accepting what came with it. Alive or dead.

Franky raised a crimson brow at the gesturing to the feather.

It seemed he was not the only one with a connection to Talon. Franky listened as Rickter explained the mechanics of it all. That was fine. Force was easy enough to deal with. "The brave must be foolish, and the fool must be brave." Then a softer grin, "Thank you, friend. I'll see you on the other side." He looked over at Dante, giving him a nod, another willing to make this likely ultimate sacrifice.

Franky closed his eyes as Rickter set to work. Franky began to focus on why he was doing this, steeling his mind. His mind remembered signing the deed to the building that would be the Gobbler. He did that on his first day arriving in the Knob. His apartment wasn't even such yet, the entire place was filled with chairs, an inordinate and insane amount of chairs. Franky had no idea what the building had been prior to his purchase but he cared not a bit. He saw the beauty and potential in it, and she came through for him, in so many ways.

He remembered the early mornings and late nights as he worked the Gobbler alone. He still didn't know how he had managed to run the kitchens, the bar, clean the rooms, and all well enough that people kept coming back to spend the few coins they had in order to feel a warmth in them. He remembered meeting Millie, the young Zaichaeri born woman who had mustered up the courage to work for a raisined old Hobgoblin such as himself. He wondered if she ever figured out that he was a Hobgoblin and not an Orkhan. That young woman had helped him carry the Gobbler into the sanctuary it had become. She had shown more bravery and strength working there for him than many a soldier he'd commanded. He hoped she would be able to find a better lot in life now. Thinking of her gave Franky the strength that Millie bore each and every day working at the Gobbler.

He thought back to the messy bounce of curls he'd met at the cafe. Yeva, the young woman destined to be a Seer, had joined him for tea. She had grown to be like a daughter to Franky, having looked to him for advice, learning from him, and coming into her own all the while. He hoped she was doing well in Ecith, and was thankful she was not here for this. Thankful she wouldn't have to see what was surely destined to fail. Thinking of her gave Franky the belief that he was following the signs he'd seen were the best path to his goal.

Franky thought back to helping that drunk determined to find an early grave. It took a season of patience but when Franky and Weston met everything changed. Having a partner he could rely upon to have his back in anything was crucial. With Weston's support, Franky found not only the Gobbler achieving success, but he himself was able to flourish and grow far beyond his own expectations. And Weston had sobered up, found a family he didn't have before, and a purpose in protecting and guiding them. Thinking of him gave Franky the power of one knowing that there was always a way back, no matter how dark or deep one dug themselves into.

As he and Rickter moved toward the rift, Franky thought back to the first round table of the Gobbler. This is when the Gobbler trimmed the fat and realized who truly wished to be there for more than simply money. Money meant very little to Franky, it was simply a tool he was skilled at wielding. But that meeting was a turning point, when they went from coworkers to friends, family, partners. They bickered and snapped, pushed and pulled, but at the end of the day, they were there for each other. Thinking of them gave Franky the conviction that what he was doing was for them, and for everyone in the Knob caring for their community.

Franky remembered carrying Florian to a room as he was passed out drunk, he remembered Yeva winning the Throne of the Gobbler. He remembered the late nights trying to make the numbers make sense, and he remembered the pride he felt when the Bank admitted that he'd bested their predictions. He remembered the despair he'd felt when reminded of Beatrix, and the comfort and uplifting his family and Dalma had brought him. He remembered every little fair he attended and hosted, every single drink he'd poured, and every single name and face that came through there. These were all the most special memories to him, and proof that he was a new man, a better man.

But right now, the world didn't need a better man. The world, or at least, his world, needed this rift closed. Now.

Franky finally opened his eyes, sitting down in this bubble that Rickter had formed, and reached into his pack, pulling out a bottle of wine and the cup the man of shadows had given him. This goblet was to be given to the Prince of Light, but Franky had a worse idea. He pulled the cork from the wine with his teeth, spatting it out. Holding the cup steady, he filled it with that deep, blood red liquid. He did not know exactly whom the stranger who had come calling with this goblet was, but Franky had his suspicions. It hadn't taken him long to sus out some stories about a man of shadows. Myths or not, legends or not, it came with a name.

One he spoke quietly across the Wine of Suffering he now held, so soft the wind would carry it away with ease as they raced toward certain doom.

Within his steeled mind, strengthened by the love of, the love for those he cared about, he vowed a Covenant through that wine. The wine that despite the speeds and turbulence from their travel, remained perfectly and utterly still within the goblet. 'I can not give you Talon, but I will give you something far greater. I offer you myself, of clear mind and pure volition, from now until forever more, I swear the utmost fealty to you, Malgar, Lord of Suffering. Give me the strength to close this rift and I will spread your suffering across these lands like none has succeeded in doing before. I will be your champion, I will do all that your require, all that you desire. I forsake all bonds I have with my life before you. I forsake all oaths before yours. I forsake the world if you grant me this strength. I will be your General. I pledge this among the suffering of those still in Zaichaer, of the suffering I've spread through the Imperial March, through the suffering I've carried with her death every single day. Let me continue to suffer in your name, carry a suffering far greater than any other, and I shall spread it through the world. I am yours, Malgar.'

And with that, mere moments before their arrival at the rift, Franky drank the Wine of Suffering in its entirety, knowing that every word he'd uttered was true in his heart, his mind, and soul. He would sacrifice everything, every ounce of beauty and pleasure, every memory and moment, every smile and drink poured. He would sacrifice all of it, and become the monster above all monsters, to save the Knob and those who called it home.

Franky closed his eyes, ready to accept his death, knowing that it would be over in moments if Malgar chose to ignore his offer.

[Rickter]

Swan Song

Searing 34, 122, 122nd Year, A.o.S.

Comets were always a strange and mystical experience, rarely ever sighted save for the millenia that one occurs within the skies of Ailizane. Yet never in his wildest dreams did Rickter ever imagine he would successfully achieve becoming one, let alone race for the stars above in an effort to seal a rift greater than his own being. Yet he had a plan, and so did Franky, the only hard part left was the ascension to the stars itself.

Thus the waves of turbulence generated great resistance to the Tunneling of Rickter's form, his flashing form radiating an immense concentration of aether to resist the mists. His aura could not falter so long as he maintained the surplus of aether, just long enough to get him sky rocketing into the heavens at least! Yet for all the pain and suffering this inflicted on his body, Rickter accepted it for all the regret he had ever generated before now. This was his price to pay to taste divinity, to embrace what Talon had felt that night after his own body had shredded. Did the fires of the Aetherium truly feel this hot within his soul? It felt like Rickter was containing the sun now, a ticking time bomb just waiting for the right moment to go off.

If only, their flight wasn't becoming delayed. The momentum of his Tunneling effect died down until they levitated for a moment, generating a single opportunity for Dante to catch up with Rickter as he felt time slip into a moment of eternity for him. Memories came rushing to him once more. Even as Deference failed to regulate the heat coursing throughout his soul, the pain of that fire suddenly burned away in turn, leaving the wolf to embrace the finality of what would be the point of no return.

" Listen Rickter," Alistor's voice Echoed in his thoughts as the wolf braced himself for the moment of truth, "you're only going to have one chance at this. Understand? When that moment comes you must say these words!"

The ward reinforcement protocols activated as the abjinurium ward flashed into existence around Rickter, generating a diamond-constructed shield that would keep him and Dante safe once they finally blasted into the sky. If the Vampyre had taken the chance to hitch the ride, well, there was no guarantee for his safety beyond this point; not even from Rickter who was practically ready to explode at any given moment. Nonetheless, a sonic pulse blasted from beneath the wolf's feet, his Kinetics rune forced to generate the strongest of Pushes he could, while finally releasing the full front of the absorbed aether within his body.

Within the very skies of Zaichaer a radiant comet was born into the heavens, threatening to pierce the very broken veil that swirled above. Aether sizzled and cracked throughout the skies, as the crystalline barrier reflected a brilliant streak of aether throughout the prismatic storm. Ever to new heights they climbed as the rift drew closer and closer to them, Rickter's gaze shifting down from their destination to his cargo in hand. You really want me to say that?!

"Yes!" They neared the threshold now as the eye of the storm revealed an ungodly light above, the wrath of the Aetherium undoubtedly awaiting them on the other side. If there were ever a moment to declare it then it was now, although, the wolf had his own adjustments to make with the incantation.

"King of the Dawn Arcas, Lord of Oaths Akrivar! I call upon you from far-flung reaches! May your benevolence carry out the will of this sacred pact, for I hereby invoke the Oath to Order!" He paraphrased as he pulled up the anchor that was on his belt, releasing the traversion ward so that just as they breached the broken boundary to the Aetherium, they would have just that sole second to enact whatever trump card was at their disposal. The barrier that kept Franky safe expanded immediately as they crossed over, safeguarding them from the raging storms of the cosmos immediately pelting their defenses. But already those defenses were being severely pushed to the limit, the might of the cosmos cracking the shield as it threatened to cave in around them in just that span of a second.

"I CAST SALVATION!!" It was the one spell that Alistor had provided for him, the one token of good faith that Rickter pulled out of his sleeve. And thus when the feather became present for Rickter to see, the prayer fold of his hands opened to reach out to it. Almost no sooner did the light of the spell make contact with the same light of that feather, did a concussive blast of energy surge from between the wolf's very hands. As a burst of light gushed from the center of his palms, Rickter released everything he had into this one final spell. From within the space of the Rift above a massive blast of light surged out into a dome, funneling deep within the heart of the Chaos Storm beneath it.

[/googlefont]

"Every side attacks you when you don't pick sides."

"Common" "Synskrit" "Norvaegan"
"Rickter" "Alistor"

[Dreyfus]

☬ The Vampyre ☬

☬ 34th of Searing, Year 122, A.o.S ☬
Company: Rickter & Franky | Thoughts: Into the rift I go | Mood: Reckless, Curious

☬ He couldnt believe he was doing this, going inside this rift to try and close it. That being said if anyone was going to bring this city to its knees it was going to be him. He wasn't going to allow them to succumb to anything less that the heel of his boot. Magical chaos storm be damned Dante would find a way to end this so there was a city for him to later dominate.

He continued to spring launching himself further and higher into the air, tapping into his rune of vitalis once again, using Adrenosis to increase his agility. He was moving faster than before now, his wings flapping at a higher rate and carrying higher toward the rift. As the rift came to become closer and closer, Dante couldn't help but be reminded of his life before this moment. He remembered growing up as the weird child that everyone feared or pitied, how he was ostracized by his own community.

He saw flashes of his teenage years being locked in his room, always looking outside and just wanting to be free. He remembered it was at this time in his life that he became fixated on that aspect, of living one's life to the fullest. He then saw his induction into the Order of Reconciliation, following in the footsteps of his mother. He remembered how he realized he had allowed the state to place a metaphorical collar on him.

The next memory was that of meeting Talon for the first time, and subsequently Rickter as well. That one meeting was the first one to open Dante's eyes that the world was bigger than what he was taught it to be. Talon, though naive in Dante's opinion at the time, held an air of confidence in that if things could be talked out, then a mutual agreement could be obtained. Then the riot that occurred, and Rickter's threat.

He remembered when Venetia gave him the Rune of Vitalis, that stroll through the park, and the subsequent battle that ensured. The experience of having your body die and break down only for you to cling to life and having to reconstruct yourself.

Dante felt that at that moment if he could survive that, then this would be nothing. He could easily regenerate himself should something go wrong, but for extra measure, he figured he would make a declaration of his own.

"To any and all of you so called gods that are willing to listen...." he began, seeing the mouth of the rift getting closer and closer, the silver ball of light that was Rickter and Franky slowing down for a moment. "If any of you are real then I beseech you now, I a vampyre, ask that you show us favor in this endeavor, and in return, I will return the favor in kind." he called out as he manipulated the flux between him and the others, pulling himself toward and onto the aetheric shielding.

Putting all his focus into it, he secured himself onto it with Seeming, adhering to the shielding as it passed through the opening of the rift. Dante did his best to brace himself against the onslaught of the cosmic forces, but he could tell it wouldn't last for long. If anything if they survived, he would no doubt be separated from them both. ☬

---

"Common Speech"
"Silandris Speech"
"Self-Thoughts"

---

[S E T T I N GxxT H E M E]

[Paragon]

P A R A G O N

The world…slowed. The colossal rift screamed its fury into the world and the city that suffered its destructive wrath. It shuddered as the three mortals spoke their vows and invoked their promises. Everything around them ground to a halt as time stood still. Below them, they could see the debris and devastation from the rift spreading outward into the city, tarnishing everything it touched. They could see jagged arcs of power rippling from the edges of that great tear in the sky as storms of chaotic energy continued to split the world in twain. Before the three of them, the world then grew painfully bright as a towering column of light erupted out of the rift and struck all three at once.

They were burned. They were destroyed. They were unmade. They were reborn. They were healed. They were strengthened.

All of these things and none of them washed over the three mortals as the universe expanded outward before their eyes. Stars ignited and fizzled out across eons of time or perhaps no time at all. Galaxies spun and stood still. An endless ocean of possibilities and none of them at all spread before them until with a jolt, they all landed squarely on their feet…somewhere else.

To look around was to see a world that seemed made of glass or perhaps mirrors or none of those things. Hanging in the skies were pillars of crystal that shone with starlight, glinting softly in a twilight sky. Ahead of them rose a structure that defied all imagination. It seemed to be made from light and crystal, hanging in the air of its own accord. Beneath their feet was a smooth stone walkway surrounded by waters that glittered silver in the golden light. At the far end of the walkway, perhaps miles away or perhaps just within reach, shone a near blinding brilliance that limned everything in a twilight gold hue.

“You’ve arrived.” A young woman smiled at them. She had long black hair that rolled down her form in long curls. She wore a humble gown of pristine white accented with golden bands around her biceps and forearms. She was beautiful and radiated kindness with keen intelligence in her eyes. A laurel crown of gold and silver sat within her hair and woven into the silken strands were small white flowers.

“They are waiting for you. Come.” She offered no other explanation, gesturing for the three to follow her. At an easy pace she began walking toward the golden light along the path. At any question, she simply shook her head. “All will be explained.”

Walking along the path, the light at the end grew brighter and brighter but it neither hurt nor stung the eyes to behold. It was warm. It was welcoming. It evoked every sense of majesty, peace and wonder that could be described and seemed itself to invigorate the spirit soothing pains the three may not have even known they had. They continued walking until finally they reached the end where only the barest outline of a doorway could be seen.

“Go. The King awaits.” Patiently she gestured for them to step through the doorway of light.

When they finally did, the world became an endless plane of never-ending light. It surrounded them, it suffused them, it penetrated to the deepest reaches of their souls and wrapped around every fiber of their being. In this light there was no pain. There was no suffering. There was only peace, there was an infinite understanding of every ache, every adversity, every hardship they had ever faced and not a lessening of it, but an acknowledgement that they had it within them to not just overcome those pains but to heal from them.

And then the light faded and the three were standing in an alabaster throne room. Beneath their feet was the silvery water from the golden corridor. All around them columns of white rose to uphold a ceiling that seemed to be made from the stars themselves. Infinite galaxies spun in the roof of that ceiling. Outside the roof and past the columns was endless blue sky with clouds drifting lazily all around them. There seemed to be no ground, nor mountain nor anything but the sky and those clouds.

“You had no right to interfere in this!” An angry voice cut through the serenity. The three would quickly realize they were not alone in this immaculate chamber. The voice came from that of a woman. Her skin was a stunning shade of black that was touched by the velvet purple of a midnight sky. Her hair drifted about her in ebony braids interwoven with strands of golden thread that floated about her as though in a perpetual wind. To look at her was to feel the enormity of Fate and to be filled with a sense of boundless Destiny. It was finality and it was infinite possibility. She was pointing a finger accusingly at another figure.

“He chose. Is it not you who fights so fiercely to give them that freedom?” The being who responded was a curiosity that defied all explanation. It was covered in heavy robes, floating just above the floor. Around its head was a single circle of light that radiated a fiery black and orange. Debris floated around its form, drifting to one robed hand. The other hand, a skeletal thing, gestured slowly as though the movement was drifting through invisible waters. Its face was completely covered and though the voice was male, there was no other indication of its form, hidden as it was beneath those strange robes that seemed weighted by terrible burdens.


“You dare--” The woman’s outrage was plain but it was interrupted by the voice of another woman.


“I agree. We know the task that our brother gave. It was convenient timing but he did not interfere. A technicality, perhaps but one that is true.” This woman was nothing like the immaculate beauty of the first. She was ringed by a writhing mass of black oil. Her hands seemed to stretch out as though they were the gnarled branches of a twisted tree or perhaps a spider. A web-like crown adorned her form as a gown that might have once been beautiful covered for skeletal form. The lower portion of her face was plainly visible. Lips that were black with apparent lipstick smiled softly. The skin of her face was a ghostly pale white and utterly flawless.

The top portion of her face was covered, concealed behind the decorative crown that seemed to both adorn her and yet was part of her at the same time. Tattered wings stretched out behind her and what might have been legs jutted out from the ragged remains of her gown, flesh and bone warping to become the tangled roots of what looked like a tree.

“You surprise me, sister. You, more than anyone, know what is at stake here.” The first woman looked at the gnarled beauty in surprise. The spidery woman of ethereal beauty bowed her head.

“I do. However, an offer, an oath and a promise were all made. You know the power of such things.” The first woman’s lips thinned.

“An oath, I intend to see through.” Another voice broke into the conversation. This one a man of immense presence and power. He stood several heads taller than the others. His body seemed to be made from volcanic rock that had cracks of lava rolling through it. His long hair was made from fire itself and his eyes burned with a fury that no mortal words could describe. Despite his harsh presence, there was a regal bearing to his form, it was as though with his mere words alone he could break the world and force it to surrender to his tyrannical will.

“Ah, and that is where we disagree, dear brother.” The gnarled beauty gave a soft smile. “His soul is already mine. I do not intend to give it up so easily.”

The man of fire and fury narrowed his eyes, powerful arms crossing over his chest.

“He invoked the old ways. Did you not just speak on the weight of their power? This cannot be ignored. I will have what is owed to me, as is my right and province.” The eldritch woman smiled sweetly, her veiled gaze tilting toward him.

“We shall see.” That seemed to cause the fires in the man’s form to flow hotter.

The four figures continued to bicker. Clearly an argument unfurling among them.

Through it all, there was a fifth figure who remained silent. A figure whose gaze remained fixed upon the three mortals. Of those assembled, he was the only one seated. He reclined in a throne of simple white marble with no intricate designs to speak of. He was strikingly handsome in a way that made ones very soul ache. His eyes were but pools of golden light and his skin seemed to flow between gold and silver. An aura of light radiated out from him. It was then that the three would realize that all light in this place emanated from him. To meet his gaze was to become lost in the vision of a being beyond description. While the other four seemed comprehensible in that they seemed to emanate something a mortal could understand, this figure could not fit in such terms. He was not mortal and it was clear he never could be bound by such things that mortals could describe.



“Enough.” He spoke and immediately the other four went silent, bowing their heads. His eyes did not leave the mortals when he spoke. He lifted one hand from the arm of his throne and gestured with two fingers. The four parted with a bow, taking up positions opposite of each other. All eyes then turned to the three mortals who had crossed through the rift.

“Come forward.” The man upon the throne spoke. His voice held within it the very concept of authority. Still, his eyes did not waver from the three.

[Franky]

Franky felt the blinding light on his eyelids. He opened them, expecting to see the rift and soon, what laid beyond. But instead, Franky was blinded by a column of light and experienced an intense, overwhelming variety of destruction and creation, weakness and empowerment. He saw the universe itself open up, welcoming him it seemed. Where the rift had been an ugly and hideous scar, to Franky, it appeared that passing through it would at least be a beautiful death. He closed his eyes, at peace and accepting the death that was coming for him, the death he'd chosen.

Then he was shaken, felt solidity beneath his boots and opened his eyes. Everything was crystalline and light and reflective, refractive. Franky could see Rickter and Dante here with him, in this hall of beauty. Franky could only assume this was some waypoint in death, perhaps where one would go before being sent back into the reincarnation cycle. A young woman was there to receive them. They were waiting? Who? Franky had always believed that death was just what sent a soul from one life to the next. He was not a religious man, did not believe in an afterlife, and certainly did not believe that any gods would care if he lived or died.

But it seemed that he was simply destined to have gods in his life. Perhaps that was his own fault for agreeing to Veronica's plan to capture a god. He opened the Font of Chaos with that one it seemed. Franky took the first steps along the stone path, not questioning the guide now. He felt no need in the peace or serenity of this place. He was sure that they all three had died in this desperate plan of his, so what good would ruining the experience with questions that no longer mattered?

At the doorway of light, Franky nodded at the woman, "Thank you."

Inside though, Franky found himself wondering if by The King, she meant the god of gods. The deity that ruled the pantheon. Franky had heard of him, because of course he had, everyone had. The Gobbler was even closed on the Dragon King's Day every week. Not because Franky was any believer, but it was just so typical in customs globally. Franky didn't even know what to worship the Dragon King could mean.

Still, he stepped through the doorway, going first.

A world of blinding light and as Franky shielded his eyes with his shield, he saw the throne room fade into visibility. He gazed around in wonder, knowing that this truly must be some afterlife, for everything he was seeing was impossibly beautiful.

And then it was shattered by an angered voice.

Franky's attention was drawn immediately to the woman, whose skin was dark, knowing that it was she that controlled Fate, simply by looking upon her. She was in an argument with a robed figure, and Franky listened closely. He never fathomed that the gods, for that was who these must be, would argue and bicker just like mere mortals. The argument swelled to include four of these impossible deities. Franky always knew he was mortal, never had any thoughts or aspirations to be more than that. He did not think that beings such as these... with these shapes... all of this, could ever be possible.

The arguments seemed to largely be based around territorial claims of some sort, as well as the following of protocol, or possibly decorum. It seemed even the gods had rules that they were expected to abide by. Franky had just assumed that they could, and would, do whatever they wanted. Franky looked upon the silent, fifth god, and knew, absolutely knew, this must be the King.

And when he spoke, the argument ended.

And when he commanded them to come forward. Franky did, stepping toward the Dragon King, head held high. He'd accepted his choices, accepted his death, and he would accept this, whatever this was as well. He did not let his gaze fall from the King's, was not distracted by the four subdued gods who had separated, not distracted by the galaxies over head. Franky walked forward to what felt an appropriate range from the King, and he stood tall, his arms sliding behind his back, one wrist clutching the other, the stance of a soldier before authority, the habit from his days in the Imperium.

And he waited for the King to speak.

[Rickter]

Swan Song

Searing 34, 122, 122nd Year, A.o.S.

The last thing that Rickter had been able to process after his declaration was the breaking of his barrier, before full wrath of the Aetherium was unlessed with a rapid blast of light. What felt like a moment in eternity soon became a sense of rising out of bed, as the daze in his mind lessened when he found the light in his eyes less painful to shield from. Opening his eyelids though he soon found that, for someone who should've and likely was dead, the place which they had arrived was somehow bright and warm.

What in the... He looked about to find that he hadn't arrived here alone, Franky and somehow Dante being alongside him when the glass-like structure towered ahead of them. Alistor? What happened?... Alistor?? The wolf looked around curiously as he received no answer from the knight, his eyes fallen on Dante as he collectively tried to remember what happened in those final moments. He never brought the Vampyre here to his knowledge, just Franky, so to see that yet another fool had somehow managed to die as they did nearly irked Rickter. It was truly a beautiful place to have arrived at though, and the wolf couldn't help but wonder if this was indeed their final destination before passing on.

At the doorway of light, a woman had greeted them, her genuine smile offered the wolf some small comfort at their arrival. He was utterly confused with the whole ordeal, absolutely confident that they had met their end, and were now about to face judgment for all their transgressions within the mortal realm. Franky seemed openly able to accept where they had gone, even so much as thanked the lady when she offered to guide them within. The wolf on the other hand wasn't sure he felt ready to go, every fiber in his being warning him of something that waited ahead. Nonetheless, he followed with the two as he eyed the majesty of the realm they were in, taking it in while they reached a room where they were soon left alone.

Only they weren't alone. As the first voice cut in and the sight of a Goddess came into view, Rickter's thoughts raced as he looked about the gathered entities. Wait... they're bickering? He pondered to himself as his eyes wandered from one to the next, the Goddess clearly offended by the involvement of another. Honestly, the wolf had worried it was the mortals in the room she'd declared it to, but the further their conversation carried out the sooner he realized... that they were arguing over the mortals instead. It became clear that their actions within the Rift had caused quite a stir, and honestly, just the sight of these four divine beings made Rickter feel insignificantly small compared to them.

But it was when the fifth god, the one and only Eikaen himself, spoke that the wolf's eyes fell to the floor. Every shred of existence he had left here felt out of place now, like a child caught doing something that they weren't supposed to do. Admittedly he had that look of minor guilt in his eyes, when he realized that before him was the Dragon King himself. After he and Franky were given to approach the wolf kept his gaze averted to Eikean's feet, his knee bent into a kneel as he rested his arms atop the other. The wolf wasn't entirely sure why, but everything in him commanded to respect this God in particular.

"Every side attacks you when you don't pick sides."

"Common" "Synskrit" "Norvaegan"
"Rickter"

[Dreyfus]

☬ The Vampyre ☬

☬ 34th of Searing, Year 122, A.o.S ☬
Company: Rickter & Franky & the Gods | Thoughts: So they are real | Mood: Awe-struck, Curious

☬ For someone who didnt beleive in the gods what Dante witnessed was beyond explanation. It was beautiful, to be witness to aetherium as it destroyed them, rebuilt them, weakened and empowered them, as the cosmos enveloped them all. Then there was alight, brighter than anything he had ever seen before. In those final moments, he knew that this was it, that no form of magic could withstand such otherworldly force he was being berated by the weight of the cosmos itself.

Then his feet landed on solid ground, shock and bewilderment painted the face of the vampyre as he looked at the place they were in now, seeing that both Franky and Rickter were intact as well. If this was some form of afterlife it was beautiful. More importantly, this was a culture shock that rocked Dante to the core. He grew up thinking that the gods were just some fictitious folk stories of those less civilized than the people of Zaichaer. He would have never believed any of this if he wasn't seeing it all for himself.

A woman spoke, taking his attention away from the awe-inspiring landscape before him. She spoke of our arrival as if it was expected as if somehow they knew we would come here. When she spoke that the king awaits, a shiver went down the vampyre's spine. "That doesn't sound good at all." he mumbled to himself as they approached the large door of bright light. Franky was the first to pass the threshold, then Rickter. As the last one, Dante looked back at the woman, trying to etch her face into his memory before crossing the bright door finally.

Upon reaching the otherside, his eyes were met with even more beauty, the opulence of the room putting any manor of the Old money of Zaichaer to shame in the level of the decadence of it all. But what truly took his attention was the figures arguing up ahead. The weight of their presence almost caused Dante to buckle but he held himself together. If there was ever any doubt they were real, it was eradicated at this moment. Each one seemed embroiled in an argument over what Dante could only assume to be them, the evidence of that being that one of them mentioned that there was an offer, an oath, and a promise made.

Looking between the three of them, he could assume that all three of them seemed to make a plea to these divine entities. Dante hoped that none of them were aware of the fact he had no idea who they were......well all except for the one in the center, on the throne and looking at them with eyes of power. Dante looked at him with both awe and envy, as he could only assume this was the king the woman they met earlier spoke of. The other entities in the room became irrelevant as the vampyre focused on him.

He could help but wonder what divine blood tasted like, if they even had blood to sample. "So this is what Talon has the potential to become, huh? Color me jealous." he mused to himself. When the King of the gods spoke, the room went silent and Dante was starting to like him even more. When he beckoned them forward. Dante came to stand at the same respectable distance as Franky, his eyes locked on the golden god, a smile of curiosity and intrigue alight on his face as he awaited to hear the words of this king. ☬

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"Common Speech"
"Silandris Speech"
"Self-Thoughts"

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[S E T T I N GxxT H E M E]