06-21-2016, 08:11 AM
Silence was a relative descriptor.
In many spheres, the great depths of outer space were considered the ultimate realm of quiescense. This was largely due to physical limitations on the part of mortal-kind; if one know where and how to listen, the Universe was alive with a rippling symphony of stars, roiling nebulae, and percussive pulsars. In this moment, the Ashen Steppes could not be considered truly silent. Despite the abrupt end of the struggle, there was still a gut-turning rumble that permeated the entire mountain.
The absence of the Dragon Queen's screams, however, created a gulf of peace that made it seem as though the world had been all but muted. Nealaphh had expected to die in a quick, fiery death, but the final blow never came. At length, the god-mind pushed itself upright and gazed solemnly at its surroundings. A sick feeling hung deep in the pit of its soul, a wrenching reverberation that drained Nealaphh of almost all coherent thought. In a daze, the god-mind staggered over to the cooling, blackened body of the Wyrm, shedding its rent cloak as it tentatively approached. An obsidian hand touched the equally tenebrous hide of the Dragon Queen, running along the rough, scar ridden armor.
In its other hand hung a purple, circular sigil. It gleamed with a sinister light, as if it hungered to consume the sacred flesh of Primes. Nealaphh looked down at the Banishment Circle with a narrow-eyed glance. Could it condemn this being to the untold depravity of the Underverse? What would be more selfish; trying to save itself from the guilt, or committing to completing its own agenda?
"Hey."
A gruff, heavy voice came from behind the god-mind. Darunia's authoritative timbre was unmistakable. Nealaphh turned around, but did not meet the chieftan's flinty eyes. His bulky silhouette, backlit by the burning remains of his personal xanadu, was imposing in a way that Nealaphh had not experienced in a long time. Darunia spoke again, his voice cold and heavy.
"Do it."
The shadow, naked in the flickering lava-light, held the Circle up to its face. Nealaphh did not want to...but it was not in a position to negotiate with the Goron. For the first time in the Omniverse, Nealaphh obeyed someone else's command, and pressed the violet sigil into Volvagia's disgraced corpse. Electric light began to flicker forth from the Arch Dragon's countless wounds, as the immense body unceremoniously dissolved into a different, distinct kind of ash that only came from the bodies of banished Primes. It was a thick, oily type of cinder that rolled away resentfully under the force of a breeze, rather than drift peacefully into the sky.
"Good riddance." Darunia spat, his voice harboring no intonation of satisfaction or pleasure. He turned to the god-mind, and spoke in a dangerously low tone. "My village, and my people. They are destroyed, Nealaphh. Killing even another thousand dragons could never justify...this." Darunia said, sweeping a heavy hand across the ravaged landscape. Emotion boiled within the shadow. Rage. Humiliation. A profound bolus of indignant anger rose within the Enigma's soul. Its sense of human emotion, having so long been trapped deep in the recesses of its august psyche, now swirled around its mind unchecked. Nealaphh wheeled around to face Darunia, its acidic eyes burning with vindication.
And what of you, Darunia? How do you justify bringing your people to this Omniverse in the first place? You seemed comfortable enough on your throne; was ruling over a lumbering horde of summoned puppets good enough for you?
Darunia's eyes immediately flared, and his fists balled tightly. He stomped towards the god-mind, the silty ground thumping loudly with each imperious stride. He bent down to come eye to eye with the shadow, speaking in the same, restrained tone.
"My people..." Darunia breathed, "...belong at my side. They want to be by my side, and their love for me is real. How about you, Nealaphh? I've seen your writings, I've watched your followers. Oh, they'll go along with your ideas, but do they truly feel loyalty for you?"
The difference is that my followers are Primes; sovereign entities. These Gorons of yours, you say they love you, but is that their honest disposition? Or did you just make them that way? How long after you discovered Volvagia did you keep summoning them?
The burning firelight of the village reflected off of Nealaphh's carapace as it walked over to where Volvagia's head once had been, and plucked the now-dormant Sword of Kusanagi from the pile of odious ash. Its telepathic voice, laden with ire and frustration, continued to bore into Darunia's head.
You let these imaginary friends of your build up their town and lives for themselves. A beautiful lie to tell yourself, surely, that you could escape from homesickness if you but conjured your village here. Did any of them ever question why you had dragged them into your own waking nightmare? No...of course not. Because they 'love' you, just like you wanted them to...
Nealaphh could feel Darunia looming large behind itself once again, aggression and pain stifling all reasonable thought. It was a predictable outcome, but Nealaphh was also experiencing a lack of emotional wisdom at the moment.
What, Darunia? Are you going to beat me into the ground? Will that make you feel better? Will it help cover up the fact that your selfishness doomed the false lives of your beloved-
Nealaphh's train of thought was abruptly interrupted as it found itself airborne, and then slamming into the face of the cliff with a resounding impact. Stunned, it was unable to catch itself as it plummeted back to the earth for the second time that morning. Reeling from the blow, Nealaphh could still sense Darunia's silent departure into the caverns. A pressure built inside of the god-mind's face. It was an odd feeling, but one that it vaguely remembered. Was its body trying to cry? A single, glassy finger ran down the length of its equally smooth face, over the gleaming, flat wedges that symbolized its eyes. Perhaps it may have wept, but this body that it had been consigned to had no tears to give.
Regardless, it was time to move on. Nealaphh slowly lifted itself on to its feet and began searching for the other remaining Primes who had volunteered for its own, equally selfish desires...
In many spheres, the great depths of outer space were considered the ultimate realm of quiescense. This was largely due to physical limitations on the part of mortal-kind; if one know where and how to listen, the Universe was alive with a rippling symphony of stars, roiling nebulae, and percussive pulsars. In this moment, the Ashen Steppes could not be considered truly silent. Despite the abrupt end of the struggle, there was still a gut-turning rumble that permeated the entire mountain.
The absence of the Dragon Queen's screams, however, created a gulf of peace that made it seem as though the world had been all but muted. Nealaphh had expected to die in a quick, fiery death, but the final blow never came. At length, the god-mind pushed itself upright and gazed solemnly at its surroundings. A sick feeling hung deep in the pit of its soul, a wrenching reverberation that drained Nealaphh of almost all coherent thought. In a daze, the god-mind staggered over to the cooling, blackened body of the Wyrm, shedding its rent cloak as it tentatively approached. An obsidian hand touched the equally tenebrous hide of the Dragon Queen, running along the rough, scar ridden armor.
In its other hand hung a purple, circular sigil. It gleamed with a sinister light, as if it hungered to consume the sacred flesh of Primes. Nealaphh looked down at the Banishment Circle with a narrow-eyed glance. Could it condemn this being to the untold depravity of the Underverse? What would be more selfish; trying to save itself from the guilt, or committing to completing its own agenda?
"Hey."
A gruff, heavy voice came from behind the god-mind. Darunia's authoritative timbre was unmistakable. Nealaphh turned around, but did not meet the chieftan's flinty eyes. His bulky silhouette, backlit by the burning remains of his personal xanadu, was imposing in a way that Nealaphh had not experienced in a long time. Darunia spoke again, his voice cold and heavy.
"Do it."
The shadow, naked in the flickering lava-light, held the Circle up to its face. Nealaphh did not want to...but it was not in a position to negotiate with the Goron. For the first time in the Omniverse, Nealaphh obeyed someone else's command, and pressed the violet sigil into Volvagia's disgraced corpse. Electric light began to flicker forth from the Arch Dragon's countless wounds, as the immense body unceremoniously dissolved into a different, distinct kind of ash that only came from the bodies of banished Primes. It was a thick, oily type of cinder that rolled away resentfully under the force of a breeze, rather than drift peacefully into the sky.
"Good riddance." Darunia spat, his voice harboring no intonation of satisfaction or pleasure. He turned to the god-mind, and spoke in a dangerously low tone. "My village, and my people. They are destroyed, Nealaphh. Killing even another thousand dragons could never justify...this." Darunia said, sweeping a heavy hand across the ravaged landscape. Emotion boiled within the shadow. Rage. Humiliation. A profound bolus of indignant anger rose within the Enigma's soul. Its sense of human emotion, having so long been trapped deep in the recesses of its august psyche, now swirled around its mind unchecked. Nealaphh wheeled around to face Darunia, its acidic eyes burning with vindication.
And what of you, Darunia? How do you justify bringing your people to this Omniverse in the first place? You seemed comfortable enough on your throne; was ruling over a lumbering horde of summoned puppets good enough for you?
Darunia's eyes immediately flared, and his fists balled tightly. He stomped towards the god-mind, the silty ground thumping loudly with each imperious stride. He bent down to come eye to eye with the shadow, speaking in the same, restrained tone.
"My people..." Darunia breathed, "...belong at my side. They want to be by my side, and their love for me is real. How about you, Nealaphh? I've seen your writings, I've watched your followers. Oh, they'll go along with your ideas, but do they truly feel loyalty for you?"
The difference is that my followers are Primes; sovereign entities. These Gorons of yours, you say they love you, but is that their honest disposition? Or did you just make them that way? How long after you discovered Volvagia did you keep summoning them?
The burning firelight of the village reflected off of Nealaphh's carapace as it walked over to where Volvagia's head once had been, and plucked the now-dormant Sword of Kusanagi from the pile of odious ash. Its telepathic voice, laden with ire and frustration, continued to bore into Darunia's head.
You let these imaginary friends of your build up their town and lives for themselves. A beautiful lie to tell yourself, surely, that you could escape from homesickness if you but conjured your village here. Did any of them ever question why you had dragged them into your own waking nightmare? No...of course not. Because they 'love' you, just like you wanted them to...
Nealaphh could feel Darunia looming large behind itself once again, aggression and pain stifling all reasonable thought. It was a predictable outcome, but Nealaphh was also experiencing a lack of emotional wisdom at the moment.
What, Darunia? Are you going to beat me into the ground? Will that make you feel better? Will it help cover up the fact that your selfishness doomed the false lives of your beloved-
Nealaphh's train of thought was abruptly interrupted as it found itself airborne, and then slamming into the face of the cliff with a resounding impact. Stunned, it was unable to catch itself as it plummeted back to the earth for the second time that morning. Reeling from the blow, Nealaphh could still sense Darunia's silent departure into the caverns. A pressure built inside of the god-mind's face. It was an odd feeling, but one that it vaguely remembered. Was its body trying to cry? A single, glassy finger ran down the length of its equally smooth face, over the gleaming, flat wedges that symbolized its eyes. Perhaps it may have wept, but this body that it had been consigned to had no tears to give.
Regardless, it was time to move on. Nealaphh slowly lifted itself on to its feet and began searching for the other remaining Primes who had volunteered for its own, equally selfish desires...
Quote:Nealaphh used 1 Banishing Circle on Volvagia
And, we dream of home I dream of life out of here Their dreams are small My dreams don't know fear I got my heart full of hope I will change everything No matter what I'm told How impossible it seems We did it before And we'll do it again We're indestructible Even when we're tired And we've been here before Just you and I
Don't try to rescue me I don't need to be rescued
Don't try to rescue me I don't need to be rescued