Dreams

[Sugar-Free]

Laloch rubbed at her chin thoughtfully. The idea of accompanying Mygon further made her itch, but there was an unknown threat looming, somewhere out in the ether. The way it could invade minds and speak directly into one's soul, their very sense of being...she shivered. It was unholistic. It was the sort of debauchery described in fairy stories, of Shamen who use their magic to control minds and raise the dead...

 

She chose not to linger on the thought, for now. She had made her decision, and she would seek out her goal, come hell or high water.

 

She motioned toward Mygon, drawing his attention to what appeared to be a tunnel, defined by an edgeless archway. There were more placards and screens following the walls, urging her soundlessly to its discovery. Deep within, she knew it to be the wretch's work above, but she knew better than to fight a current that led her homeward.

 

"Um...you, whatever you call yourself," she couldn't recall his name, nor did it strike her to ask, "I suggest we take our leave through that archway. I agree; it's doubtful that this place would hold such a loophole. I don't know, nor can I pretend, what this place holds in store with us..." She leaned back on a heel, a smirk in the corner of her lips. "But with my strength and your pretension, I'm certain we'll make short work of this stage-work."

 

She turned her back on him, turning her head to look back.

 

"Come, and find that friend of yours. Or don't. Let's make our way on toward destiny...together, I suppose."

Edited October 6, 2016 by Sugar-Free

[DuskOfTheStars]

Eternal Slumber screamed in pain -- and then the voice sounded. A vast crowd bore down on him. He roared in fear and pain, turning to limp-run from the crowd -- and through the door they aimed for. Too late, he realized they were heading for the door as well. They had almost caught up when he hobbled through the door.

Edited September 23, 2016 by Dusky_Flareon

[Thaelasan]

Gods.. and men.

A god is a being beyond mortal comprehension, beyond all things which the mind could grasp, an intangible web of spinning ethereal existence and sentience, power beyond wildest imagining. A being who could destroy worlds with a wave of a hand, consume land in water, raise and lower tides at will, move the planets with single motions. A god is any being who does things mortals cannot explain.

When the Greeks saw acts they considered miraculous, they gave it a god. When the Aztecs saw things beyond reason, they gave it a god. When the Mayans or the Egyptians beheld awe-inspiring feats or how nature acted, they created gods.

On a world, far beyond our own, a world so close to its own sun that the burning heat scalded the world and made it impossible for life to survive, a single, burning creature spurted from the magma and lava of the broken surface and struggled to live. A single word burned in its feeble, but determined sentience.

"Exist."

Others followed. Evolution occurred. A grand amount of time passed. Centuries of manifested life going from generation to generation until finally ending at a present day. But these creatures were not graceful, beautiful, or elegant.

Existence on their world had led them to become fierce, devilish creatures, with features akin to the demons of mythology. Predatory claws and longer hair. Wings they had evolved along with a tail to fly along the hot air of their world to seek their prey. And somehow, along that path, they had evolved a form of sentience, understanding.

"We are alive, and we are powerful. We exist, and we are the strongest. Others die, so that we may live."

But even they, who deemed themselves so mighty and strong for existing on such a burned and corrupted world, feared beings beyond them. They had people they praised... Or rather, something beyond people.

They, during the course of their existence, had stumbled upon the remnants of a civilization so technologically advanced that they could only see them as one thing - one thing that could be the only explanation for such wild and miraculous science.

Gods.

Vikwun. A word in their tongue which meant Flame, Strength, Power, and Heat. A word which, if a single letter of their writing was replaced, also meant Forge.

In English, the word meant Crucible.

This was the word they had used to give their planet a name. This word, which signified something upon which one could create, was the calling of their homeworld. Their race was diverse, and many species of the same creature lived and moved amongst the buildings and roads of the multiple empires. Many tongues were spoken. Many goods were shared. To humanity, they would seem to only be a darker version of themselves, currently undergoing the technological feudal era, but somehow, different.

Within their temples, thirteen gods stood, watching over them - seven male, and six female, but they didn't truly know their gender. Their pictures were based on pictures found in an ancient text in a strange, glowing machine that one of the creatures had stumbled upon and been deemed a messiah. His face was also immortalized below them, forever remembered as a prophetic hero when he was merely a man who had been at the right place at the right time.

See as the camera pans down the walls of the temple vaults. Imagine, if you will, the scent of burning incense in the air, strong with the scent of what could be close to the scent of cloves. Notice the absence of dust on the glass and statues, tended to so diligently by ten priestesses and ten priests, each day, as part of their ceremonies. Hear the sounds in the distance of the town, and realize that none of those sounds are allowed to enter here, a place of worship and sacred rituals.

And finally, all of this ends as all eyes rest upon a single, black-armored being, hulking, kneeling with his right hand firmly gripping an ebony sword that sits before him. His long hair pours over his face to hide his expression. His great wings are folded upon his back. A golden crown is barely visible from the mass of horns and hair. There is nothing but silence. Yet, somehow, it is very, painfully loud.

The being stands to his feet, the armor making metallic noises as it slightly moves upon his form. To a human, he would appear as a demon within a church, a devil within the house of god. But to those of this world, he was far, far more righteous. He lifted his blade back to his backside, putting it away as he stood before the glass mosaic that depicted the messiah, Callipesi of the Glowing Light, bearing the strange construct which had given all demons their gods. If one were to pay attention, they would notice that the demonic being standing here resembled Callipesi in a way.

He turned away from the glass and began to step out of the church, his cloak flying behind him.

Only less than a hundred years hence, this demon had made his name here in this very Cathedral. Its significance had been so great that he had erected his entire castle around it in the years following. His kingdom, born of the sin of a false prophet, a false god. This, is where it had all happened.

His name was Lokus - Lokus De Volus Ferrellian. Volus, of course, meant in their tongue "Emperor", "Noble Blood", or "Ascended." Ironically, he sometimes mused, his name meant "Exile" or "Forgotten One."

At one point, he'd had another name, but that name had quickly been replaced following Lokus' words against the previous king. At the time, he had been shunned as a heretic. Now, he was hailed as a hero. He found it fitting.

Less than a hundred years ago.... Still, it weighed heavily on his mind. It was almost as if he still lived in that climactic moment. Ten years of war and battle, a grand coup staged almost as a chess game. The loyalists and religious had stood against him. The poor and the noble had stood with him. But as time passed and it waged on, more realized his cause was just.

And finally, within that grand cathedral, he had found the previous king, a man who had deemed himself a god, enacting unfair rules and strict laws upon his people and stating it was "for the heavens." A man driven mad, believing his own lies. A sick, twisted, pitiful wretch.

No being like that could be a god.

"All men are avaricious and sinful beings! All of us! You think you do the work of a hero, but all you do is taint your hands in the blood of a god! You are DAMNED, Lokus! Damned to the end! Your soul is blacker than you can imagine! I can see it! I can see it! With these eyes!"

Their confrontation had led to the decapitation of that god and the rewriting of several pages of history. His name would be forgotten. His legacy would be forgotten. The man himself would be forgotten. And it was all part of making sure that the world changed, without him ever having been a part of it.

All according to Lokus' grand plan.

But now, he felt empty. A hundred years after that, a betrothal and marriage to a glorious demon woman who suited him. Men and women who would die for him. And yet he still felt as though something was missing. Something, a purpose he could not identify.

Dreams for the past few nights had haunted him. Dreams of him losing his crown and dying. But that was not what had frightened him.

What frightened him was that the DREAMS didn't frighten him. The idea of death, losing his crown, being shamed... he didn't care. It didn't touch him as it should have. Was it because he was simply too brave, or had nothing to lose? The crown should have meant more to him, he assumed, but he couldn't grasp that idealism.

He was so lost in thought that he didn't notice the woman before him until her arms were around him, stopping him in his steps. He looked up slightly.

No one else would have dared to even come close to him. No one else would have ever tried to touch him, speak to him, lest they cross him. But this woman feared none of that. Lokus doubted she feared anything, if he really thought about it. Even before they were engaged, she had always been the same.

"News then?" Lokus finally asked, his arms falling to his sides. He did not return the embrace. He merely sighed.

The woman gave him a forlorn gaze but it was quickly replaced by a bright one. She flapped her wings slightly as she pondered the question.

"I was not aware that a wife was required to bring news whenever she wished to see her husband." the woman replied, putting a finger to her chin mockingly. "I thought that was the job of a herald. Have you reduced me to such a task?"

"I may consider it."

"How rude." she placed her hands on her hips. "My talent would go to waste delivering messages. Besides, that's so boring compared to the joys of being an empress."

"Yes, because speaking to the other lands and arguing politics is something to celebrate." Lokus replied, beginning to walk again. The woman ran in front of him, stopping him.

"Yes... dear..?" Lokus added the last part very reluctantly.

"May I remind you that it should be a husband's privilege to entertain his significant other when she is bored or feeling out of sorts?" this woman, Syllana, crossed her arms. "You've been like this often recently."

"I apologize then." Lokus replied bluntly.

"And you say that as well. You're more depressed right now than a man forced to live on a torn blanket and bare scraps." Syllana commented. "Did something happen that I'm just not aware of? You do know you can talk to me about such matters, correct?"

"Yes, I do. But..."

"But?"

Lokus leaned down to her level, his eyes grave.

"I fear how you will react when you hear it, my love." he said.

"Have you been having some form of adulterous affair?" her eyes were playful.

"Please be serious." Lokus grimaced. "No... I ..."

He thought for a long moment.

"I have no idea what life should mean any longer."

The two of them were silent for a long time. Finally, she put a hand to her face, sighing.

"You're the emperor of a kingdom, the protector of gods, the chosen warrior. You're married and have anything most of our kind could only dream of having. Yet you feel... as though life has no meaning?" Syllana put a hand on her side. "Are you stupid? Did some seer talk to you or something and give you funny ideas?"

"No."

"This is a real feeling? This isn't a joke?"

"No."

"I really don't know what to think about this." Syllana considered it for a long time, scratching her hair nonchalantly. "Out of all the men in this world, for YOU to feel that sort of thing.. It makes no sense. What exactly do you mean?"

"I feel as though I've lost... purpose." Lokus replied, trying to find words. "As though the goal I had in my life is gone. What is there beyond being king, beyond being ruler? What is there beyond giving to my people what they desire? They are pleased. They are content. I did what I was meant to do. But I feel as though there is nothing left to accomplish."

"That makes more sense." Syllana crossed her arms. "But what do you propose-"

There it was.

The door.

As the both of them stared in utter disbelief, a shining, glass door appeared before them. A few onlookers stopped and stared as time went on. One of the priests happened to catch it as he was looking out of the temple.

Many eyes were on the iridescent threshold which had materialized before them both. There was nothing behind it or in front of it. A silver handle was clearly visible on it. But that's not what caught Lokus' attention.

His reflection, in the glass, was almost the opposite of himself. Both he and Syllana were wearing silver armor rather than black. His cloak was elegant, beautiful. His horns were tended to. His crown was even more glorious. Her hair was tied. Her appearance was utterly divine. And both of them were pleased, happy... content.

"What sort of witchcraft is this? Who... who summoned this thing?" Lokus asked, almost demanding. "Who.. Who brought this vision before me?!"

"There was no magic used nearby, darling." Syllana assured him, laying a hand on his shoulder. "Nothing. No one summoned this."

"...Then..."

"It's a sign! A sign of the end times!" a man nearby shouted, hysterical.

"Or maybe an omen of good tidings? Some things don't have to mean evil, especially not something so beautiful..." a woman said from next to him. Many of the people in the crowd began to speak as more people stepped closer.

"....Well what are you waiting for, my king?" Syllana finally said, turning to him and laying a hand on his. "We both know what you wish to do."

"....But... the kingdom... the people..."

"Will be fine without us." Syllana assured, placing his hand on the door handle. "But you won't so long as we stay here. And I will be with you. I would rather you were a poor man who smiled than a rich man who did not."

"Very well.." Lokus' face filled with sudden resolve. He grasped the handle firmly, pulling down upon it so that the door clicked.

Light shone from within as it began to open. Some people looked away. But Lokus and Syllana did not. To them, it wasn't painful - it was warm. It was welcoming.

If you truly wish for things to change, then you may enter.

A voice seemed to speak in Lokus' mind. He did not know if Syllana heard it. He stepped over the threshold, her foot following his. Soon, they entered the borders of the door, and it began to close behind them.

The last sight of his world and hers faded behind them both as a soft click noted that they were now in a place far beyond it.

And they were not sure when they would return.

Finally, they began to look around to try and make sense of this new area...

 

------

 

He brushed away a thin layer of dust that had covered the slab, ignoring the rest of the crowded individuals who also seemed to have come here to see it. But they did not concern him. He did notice, however, that many of them wore clothes that signified they were not of his realm. It mattered little.

"Syllana... this language here. This isn't of Vikwun, is it?" Lokus asked, turning slightly. She stepped to his side, peering down at the slab with curiosity.

"No... this isn't of any of the provinces, not even of Baelun or the Outer Reaches." Syllana stated surely, standing back to her full height. "I don't even think any of our dead languages match it."

"Then how are we able to read it?" Lokus asked, concerned.

"Beats me." Syllana shrugged. "I may have been a scholar but that doesn't mean I studied every tongue in our lands. You do realize that the civil wars left many tongues dead and lost to us forever?"

"Of course. A shame." Lokus stared back down at the slab, intrigued.

 

"Before you are a series of challenges. Some will be easy, and others difficult. You are to complete them all in order to proceed. Once you have completed the objective set forth in a particular level, a door will appear. Walk through the door to continue. If you manage to walk through the final door, you will be rewarded with immense power, enough to make your wildest dreams come true. However, if you die during one of the challenges... you will not be able to return. There are no time limits, and you may take as long as you need to finish a challenge."

 

Immense power....

Lokus crossed his heavy arms, pondering for a long while just what this stone edifice could mean. Who was offering these challenges, creating this "game" or "contest", as it were? For them to be able to cross worlds meant their technology was far superior to Vikwun's. To Lokus, that could only mean they were just as Vikwun's gods.

"By Avalor." Lokus breathed, realization dawning on him.

"Lokus!" Syllana frowned. "Why on earth would you incite the name of the Broken one?"

"Look around you, Syllana. Look at these people. Look at us! Whoever gathered this group here... their magical might would rival even Muwan, I'm sure of it!"

"What insanity...." Syllana mused. "If that's true... then certainly such technology belongs in the hands of our empire of Calden. Anyone else would not be able to use it to its fullest extent. My lord, I think you've found the... meaning you've been looking for."

"As in?" Lokus asked, turning back to the slab. She laid both hands upon his shoulders, straining her height and placing herself against him.

"Behold, my beloved, your new adventure... OUR... new adventure." she whispered. "Imagine your triumphant return to Calden, bearing such raw power. Would you not be the same as your ancestor, Callipesi? No, even BETTER than he!"

"Syllana, that's-"

"Do not say that is heresy when it is truth, Lokus." Syllana hissed, backing away from him slightly. "It is not greed or pride speaking my words. It is me. You would be bringing a boon to our people that no one has seen in over a millennium. This must be the divine providence of the gods, to choose us as the ones to undertake this endeavor. Surely, we have been chosen."

She poked his chest, smiling.

"Besides, who could make a challenge that we together could not overcome? No one. We have slain a god. We have ended a reign of terror that no other man would dared have done. We have won numerous skirmishes and conflicts with both might and magic. There is no one - NO ONE ELSE - on our world capable of what we are capable of. Believe me when I say, my king, that we are the strongest pair our world has to offer.

Lokus was silent for a long while, frowning as he thought heavily upon this subject.

"Syllana, I'm not going to become the king I killed. I swore this. If indeed we do bring back this technology or magic... whatever it is, I am not going to claim to be a god. Neither of us will. Ambassador perhaps. But not prophet or messiah. I am a mortal, nothing more, nothing less. I bleed. I love. I hate. And I fear. To make my people believe I am divine would be to make them believe less of our gods if I am of their ilk. Is that clear?"

The two of them stared at each other for a long time before she ran her hand through her hair, sighing.

"Of course, of course." she shrugged. "I was not saying at all that we should try to become THAT, that wretched husk of a man. But we should at least say we were CHOSEN by the gods. You cannot say this is just mere flick of fortune or coincidence. No sane man could."

"I would not. And if that's what we will say, then I will gladly say it. But I am not Callipesi."

"No. You're not. You're far more honorable than your promiscuous ancestor, and I would like to say far more handsome." She placed a hand under his chin, grinning.

"Many men said I was a fool to choose you. When you do things like this, I wish to see them hanged." Lokus smiled, taking her hand gently in his own. "Very well."

He turned back to the slab, then stood at his full height, determined.

"I, Emperor Lokus De Volus Ferrellian, King of Calden, Lord of the Seven Forges, Hand of the Outer Reaches, the Flamebearer, and the Ebony Blade, accept the challenges held before me with certainty, alongside my wife."

Syllana stepped forward as well.

"I, Empress Syllana Ferrellian, Queen of Calden, Lady of the Inferno, Mistress of the Damned Ones, the Blade of Na'Thun, the Valiant Red-Angel, and the Whisper of Smoke, accept the challenges held before me without question, alongside my husband."

As soon as they had finished speaking, the slab began to transform. The pair of them did not move as the glass door formed before them. The similar reflection called to them both.

Gods, and men.

The magic contained here... it could only be the work of a god... What man could create this?

Lokus' mind was focused only on this thought. Syllana, however, had both arms around his left arm, holding him firmly.

"My King, your trials await." she said slyly. "It is simply up to you to open the door for us both."

He swallowed after a long moment, steadying his nerves. For once, he felt anxiety. Lokus, the king who had never feared gods or death, now stood before his fate, shaking slightly. Syllana noted this but said nothing, sharing his concern.

"We are alive, and we are powerful. We exist, and we are the strongest. Others die, so that we may live." she said.

"The Creed of Avalor." Lokus muttered. The words had always held true. He placed a hand on the door, feeling the very essence of magic that coursed through it. The door opened silently, only a blackness beyond. He took a deep breath, and stepped into the world beyond....

 

[Lemniscate]

((boop small nudge))

[Felixr2]

Mygon never told Laloch that Agh'Nahgal is a wolf... so I'm just assuming she said "friend" instead for now.

----

 

"Very well said." Mygon said, starting to follow her. "Oh, and my name is Mygon." The agression had left her and she seemed to be thinking normally again, which was nice. Instead of trying to kill him, the dragon was now being somewhat kind and helpful, exactly what would be necessary for either of them to leave this place alive. Perhaps it was a test of their capabilities, both mental and physical.

 

But tests come with competition and competition comes with victors. And losers. Would this go on until a select few is left? And how many would it be then? And most importantly: what happens to the victors once they claimed their prize? He kept these questions to himself for now, not wanting to bother Laloch with all of it. Agh'Nahgal had always liked Mygon talking to him, he even replied in a way understandable to Mygon every now and then.

 

But Laloch wasn't like Agh'Nahgal, not at all, and Mygon understood that.

 

"Watch out!" Mygon shouted, as he used a grappling arrow to pull away a tablet that was about to fall on top of Laloch.

Edited October 7, 2016 by Felixr2

[Sugar-Free]

The compliance he showed was a relief to Laloch. She cupped a hand around her elbow and fingered at her Dragonstone, feeling the minute fractures running inside the core. It wasn't near breaking, that was for sure, but still, she had been callous in her fervent haste. A stone was only to be used in times of dire need, not whence rampaging at the head of some tuber. The shimmering glow from deep within did not falter, though it no longer remained whole and uniform.

 

A thought of mortality chilled her. In this caged clasp, the essence of her self was contained.

There were means to create another, but not by her own hand, here in this foreign land. Without it, she had no more use than corpses. Without it, she was close to the ground, unable to breach the sky-barrier whenever she pleased. She was among them...

 

She squeezed her Dragonstone tightly, willing away that pitiful fear.

 

"Watch out!"

 

A sound of twanging release startled Laloch from her rumination. A screen flew past her head and crashed off to her side, pulled away by what looked like an anchor-shot of sorts. He was not far from it, holding onto the lead and releasing the bolt from its hold. She caught herself frozen for a moment, then recovered enough to step on toward where he was standing. She figured she owed him a thanks of some sort. She opened her mouth.

 

"Stop it."

 

It didn't come out as she would've liked. It was in moments like these she recalled Mahmet's gentle chiding, how she'd remind her not to hold onto her prejudices--

 

"Stop it immediately. The last thing I wish to bear is any sort of debt to be paid." She drew her hand up under her chin in a look of dismissal. "I've already accrued more than I'd like now, so if you would please, let me die next time and save myself the trouble."

 

Laloch averted her eyes, unable to conceal the too-obvious farce she was constructing. Indeed, she didn't want to be in his debt, but it hurt to say anything softer. But it was fine--even if he noticed it, it wasn't nearly as bad as stooping to the point of kindness.

Edited October 6, 2016 by Sugar-Free

[Lemniscate]

-----Thaelasan-----

As the duo stepped in, absence engulfed them, depriving them of all senses. Balance didn't exist, there was no gravity. Minutes and years passed simultaneously, both forwards and backwards. The voice spoke its warning, reminding them not to teleport, the only sensory stimuli present. After forever and an instant, light began to filter into the void, bringing sight back. Gravity lowered the duo gently down onto the ground as a slight, air-conditioned breeze blew past them. There were no other signs that their other senses had returned, yet there seemed to be an overwhelming feeling of sheer prescence. Invisible arms they weren't aware of released them, almost reluctantly, as the voice dictated the objectives. "Please locate your group accompanied by your partner who is next to you. Do not attempt to leave or kill them, as you will be disqualified if your partner is not with you by the time you find your group. There is no possibility of becoming lost, as it is impossible to find another group." The voice repeated occasionally, seemingly neutral and mechanical in nature. As the details of the room refined themselves, the panels on the walls practically glowed with information. None of it was permanent, but it created a sense of wonder. It seemed that not only the entire history of Vikwun was recorded within the panels, but also the history of all the other worlds in existence. There were no signs or signals, but somehow the information seemed to draw the duo along. As they traveled, they seemed to draw closer to their destination, presumably their group. No dangers presented themselves, nor did anything feel less than perfect throughout the entire span of time since their arrival to their destination.

 

It almost felt like a different world, a peaceful, knowledgeable one full of mysteries and innate purpose. An aura of peace and purpose fell over them, granting them a subtle confidence. Somehow, it felt like their wish had been granted the moment they entered the door. But it couldn't have been that easy, could it? There was only one way to know, and that was to continue.

[Thaelasan]

Have you ever thought of Heaven, Lokus?

 

Heaven?

 

The texts speak of a paradise beyond our own, one where the souls of those who die with honor and glory in the name of our gods can live eternally, in utter bliss.

 

What sort of nonsense is that?

 

What do you mean, Lokus?

 

Priest, I am a King. I can relax as long as I wish. I can be attended to. I can be waited on. I can have a thousand servants eager to attend to my every whim on demand.

 

My King-

 

I can ask for whatever I wish, do as I wish, and act however I wish whenever I wish it. I can sleep for as long as I want and slay anyone who may wish for me to wake before I myself choose to do so.

 

My lord...

 

But do I?

 

No... no you don't.

 

Because that's not my Heaven, Priest. If you wish for me to live an eternity of bliss, then give me something I do not already have.

Give me meaning.

 

A hand laid upon his own as a whisper echoed within his mind.

"My King... I believe it is time for you to awaken."

"Are you Syllana?"

"I am."

He blinked once, placing a hand on the floor beneath him. The events they had just seen appeared to be as a dream but he knew they weren't. Lokus couldn't be fooled by illusions. He had seen too many lies to fall for more of them. His clawed hand grasped the ground as he heaved himself up to his full height, rolling out his shoulders, the armor knocking against itself.

"Where are we now then?"

A room sprawled before them, decorated in seemingly the same sort of stars and planets. It was a world of imagination. There, before him, was Vikwun, marked in runes he shouldn't have been able to read - yet was. Beyond it, their Sun, very, painfully close, marked with a blazing rune that said "March."

"March?" Lokus questioned. Their Sun had never had a name, so long that he had known it. The only word they had for it was the same word they used for Anger, yet missing a syllable. Wurgak. Nothing close to March.

As he watched, multiple names decorated Vikwun's surface - Apothesis, Forge, Saterus, Nova, and then... Caesar.

Why did Caesar sound so... right? What was the meaning of this? He traced a finger upon the surface, only for the runes to dance around his hand and seemingly disappear like mischievous fae. Syllana frowned, concerned, as she laid her own hand upon his, her mind calculating.

"Why does Caesar sound so... familiar?" she whispered to him. "Is this not Vikwun?"

"I know not." Lokus stated firmly, turning. "But it is most likely a trick of whatever higher power brought us here. I'm not in the mood for jokes and illusions. Let us continue."

She wrapped her fingers around his own, holding his hand firmly as they walked along from wall to wall, staring up at the runes with wonder. Another planet beamed out from the depths of another galaxy. Earth. Again, it was another, familiarity. It's as if it had always been something known to them.

 

Mother, what is that, deep within the sky?

 

Those are stars, Syllana. They watch us from far away. They speak to us through our prophets.

 

They speak? But how?

 

Without words. With feeling.

 

She grasped Lokus' hand more tightly as the memory began to surge within her mind. He looked down at her, concerned.

"Is everything alright, Syll?" Lokus said, his voice warm, which didn't seem to fit him.

"I suppose. It just feels... eerily large in here, beyond understanding, and I don't like that feeling." Syllana admitted, gesturing with her free hand. "I feel... so small in this room. Like everything in this universe is just documented here, like it's nothing more than numbers."

"Other planets? Syllana, all of this must be fake. The only true planet is Vikwun. The prophets did say 'The blessed planet Vikwun shall be the forge of new life.'"

"But that's just IT, Lokus. NEW life." Syllana said. "What if... what if we're not the first? Or the last?"

Lokus' gaze wavered.

"Look around us, Lokus. These planets. Only some of them are named. WHAT named them?"

"...What do you mean?"

Syllana released his hand and held out both hands to the stars and planets decorating the walls, her eyes full of certainty.

"I feel... absolutely sure. This isn't an illusion, my King, my beloved. This isn't some form of trick. This is our host showing us a truth."

"A... truth?"

"A thousand... thousand worlds. A thousand stars. A thousand kingdoms that have come before our own and along our own." Syllana whispered, her voice in awe. "A million lives, across multiple times. Look at the scriptures. Look at the runes. Understand the truth."

Lokus gazed upon the walls, his long cloak laying behind him as he stood, his arms by his side, feeling suddenly very, very small. A king of over a billion demons who would give their lives for him. A lord of a thousand lords. A leader of ten thousand leaders. A father. And yet, but a speck of life amongst a hundred, thousand worlds, maybe even more.

"Then... what does that mean? That there is no meaning, Syllana?" Lokus breathed, dismayed. "If these worlds are real... if these names are real.. if there are people upon them, aren't there other kings? Other gods? Other deaths and lives? Then what is the point of MY existence? What have I done that they would even know of? Do they even know... even know of our very being?"

"I cannot answer that, my King." Syllana admitted, looking down at the floor. "Even I feel small right now."

"....Has it all been for nothing?" Lokus said, seemingly broken. He fell to his knees, his heavy armor cracking the floor beneath him, dust billowing around him. For some reason, no matter how much his mind wanted to scream it was impossible, no matter how much his body wished to rebel, his heart told him it was true.

Every single one of the worlds before him that was given a name, any name, many names, ... all of them had to have been named by something, god or otherwise. Did that mean Vikwun had had life before them? And what about after? He could feel his soul telling him it was all true, from the moment Syllana had begun to speak.

This... was all real. A god had brought them here to show them this to show them the futility - he believed - of his own, selfish desires. What did his desire have that made him special amongst the millions.. millions of other ambitions? Why did he deserve to have it fulfilled? He was a king of but a single world of note, that many might not even know existed. Why did he deserve to be here? Was this what the God - Gods - was/were trying to tell him? That his desire was a foolish notion?

Did he come here to be taunted for his futile, prideful selfishness? His arrogance? His lust for something that in the grand scheme of things didn't matter? Compared to what the ambitions of others could be, was his even that special?

I want meaning in my life.

What sort of foolish desire was that? How utterly ignorant and depressing. With a million worlds decorating the walls, he felt a single thought brim in his mind.

How dare I even try to bring my proposal before this being, a selfish wish, when there lie a thousand worlds beyond mine?

But another wish began to brim within his mind, and his body began to grow emotion with it.

"I exist."

He frowned, beginning to stand back to his full height. Syllana gave him a glance, confused.

"What?"

"I exist. And so do they."

"So then-"

"And so I will prove the worth of my ambition, of my desire." Lokus growled. "And if it is found wanting... then I will conquer every single world sprawled across this planetarium."

He held out both hands, grasping his fists slowly. His face slowly began to change from despair to one of wanting.

"Yes... perhaps this is what the God has given me. A sign. This shall be the meaning to my existence..-"

"Lokus, no.." Syllana began, uncertain.

"The king of a single planet means little. But what about the King of a Thousand Worlds? The Queen?!" he turned to her, grabbing her hands. "Think of it Syllana!"

"No."

"....Why not?!" Lokus asked, slightly infuriated.

"Because you are not your ancestor, nor should you pretend to be, Lokus." she said firmly, releasing his hands. "That is not the meaning to your existence, and it's a fool's gamble. If you conquer all of them, then what?!"

"What do you mean...?"

"If you conquered a hundred, then a thousand, then when would it end?!" she screamed, grabbing his collar and pulling him to her level. "Remove these thoughts from your mind and think of the TRUTH! This isn't about conquering anything! It's about respecting what we HAVE!"

"But you were-"

"I want you to lead. I want you to be a King. And I want you to be HAPPY." Syllana said firmly. "If I thought conquering anything more would make you happy, I'd agree with you, and I'd serve with you as I always have. But how would it make you happy? You'd have a hundred thousand worlds, and if you conquered them all, then what's next? What else? What lies beyond that?"

Lokus blinked, trying to consider the question.

"...Nothing."

"Precisely." Syllana released him, crossing her arms. "You're losing your mind over this. This isn't about taking, conquering, or getting more of anything. That's not what you want, and that's not the man I married. That's not the meaning of life you're searching for. Kings have conquered for years. You own more than any man on Vikwun, and yet you still feel meaningless. So how would doing it more change ANYTHING?"

Lokus stared at her, crestfallen. She rubbed her eyes, sighing.

"The meaning to your life won't be found by getting more things. It will be found by looking at what you have." she whispered, almost inaudibly. "And you're too blind to see it."

"Then if you know, why won't you tell me?" Lokus pleaded, at a loss for any words beyond that.

"Because... because I want you to see it for yourself." she said, shaking her head. "This isn't something I can tell you because it won't hold meaning. You have to see it for yourself. And you have to remove that cloud from your eyes that blinds you."

"....You are such a confusing woman, Syllana."

"And you are a headstrong brute of a king." she retorted, smirking. "This is a fun, little game. I won't ruin it by spoiling the answer to the riddle. Besides, when is the last time we had a real vacation away from all the royalty and responsibilities?"

Lokus paused a moment, and then smiled.

"Very well. You win this argument." he sighed, shrugging. "What now?"

"We move forward, my King. And we don't stop until you find what you seek. What we seek." she said, taking his hand again.

"As you wish, my Queen."

Edited October 14, 2016 by Thaelasan

[Felixr2]

Mygon was somewhat averted by Laloch's rough reaction, but mostly taken by surprise.

 

"Wh-what? A-alright... however, please do keep in mind that you will never owe me anything; I've saved you because that was the right thing to do, not for your gratitude. But if you do feel like you have to "pay me back", please do that by allowing me to save you. I won't ask for anything else."

 

---

 

Short post, not much to do here for Mygon it seems, other than giving yet one more speech to Laloch. (really how many times does he have to do this? and Laloch basically already seems to know almost all of it but just needed to be reminded...)

[Lemniscate]

((boop))

[DuskOfTheStars]

((Can't do a thing till Batty enters the door.))