Rarely do I go spelunking in the dark, dusty, cavernous archives of my blog, but when someone else does -- and brings back unsavory remains of things dead and decaying -- I am compelled to put on my rubber gloves and do some serious spring cleaning.
I have been keeping journals for as long as I can remember. The whole lot of them in notebooks which I do not have anymore. In the advent of the Internet, I started jotting down my thoughts in the vacuum of cyberspace. Unlike notebooks, however, these do not get lost easily, and are readily accessible with but a few magical mouse-clicks. This may be a good thing for some -- and for most of us, this is NOT. Especially when one goes through a period in one's life which, oh, let's call it the Dark Ages. Unfortunately for me, a few remnants of my Dark Ages managed to seep through the Internet before I completely broke away from it, circa 2001-2002. And now that a friend of mine has most graciously pointed it out, I am finally purging myself of them. Thank the cosmos forgetting is just as easy with, again, but a few magical mouse-clicks.
To fragments of who I was -- fragments I grind to dust and cast into the wind -- I bid a most sincere adieu. Cross into the light, be at peace, and may you never come back to bite me in the ass.
Friday, August 28, 2009
Thursday, August 27, 2009
The Tome of Blue Flames: Storm on the Celestial Castle
Disclaimer: Rohan Online is not mine, but YNK Interactive and -- I guess to a degree -- Level Up! Games let me use it as a playground. I am not making money out of this, so please don't sue me. Also, the order of which the story should be read is as follows:
001 PROLOGUE: WITHOUT A NAME
002 CHAPTER 01: OF GODS AND MONSTERS
003 CHAPTER 02: AN UNLIKELY EMISSARY
004 CHAPTER 03: AN ADVENT TO SHADOWS
005 INTERMEZZO: WHITE NOISE
006 CHAPTER 04: SEEDS OF DESTRUCTION, THE BOY-AVATAR AWAKENS
007 CHAPTER 05: STORM ON THE CELESTIAL CASTLE
008 CHAPTER 06: THE PATH TO DECIMATION
009 INTERMEZZO: THE LAST PAWN
010 CHAPTER 07: EIGHT YEARS AGO
011 FINAL CHAPTER: THE WISDOM FROM FRIENDS
"I gathered the dead and burned them. Peering into their fear-burnt and lifeless faces, all I could think of was the paralyzing void of loss. There was nothing else in my heart. These people had families, people who loved them waiting for them somewhere. The overwhelming sense of it was packed tight into my 11-year old body. I could only imagine how Rosalind must have felt.
"I buried our parents last. Our father's sword, I laid on his chest; our mother seemingly asleep beside him. Her face was immaculate. Their bodies and faces both seemed to say they were ready to cross the veil. I was carrying Rosalind as I lit the pyre. She was silent now, her hands cold and numb, no doubt mirroring the chill in her heart. We stayed where we were until there was nothing but ash."
Alaric was looking at his feet, head reclined on the back of the couch, empty goblet of wine twirling on his hands. His eyes looked more distant than sad, as if he were reading himself a story from a book. He placed the goblet back on the table, let out a sigh, smiled, and looked at me. "Nothing much happened after that. My sister and I never returned to Ash Valley. We never went to Ehres Harbor either. We took a path and walked straight on it without looking back, living off the land. With my newfound strength and endurance, I could walk on for miles without needing food. Hunting game for my sister was not that difficult, and I almost never slept, watching over her during the night.
"Eventually, the path we were on led us to Einhoren. It must have been five days since the Festival, but the town was still talking about the devastation that happened at the Tranquil Forest. Me and my sister never said a word about it. Instead, I tried looking for honest work -- from the smallest fetching duties to apprenticing for one of the minor blacksmiths.
"It wasn't long before the Guild Master found me. Of course, I didn't know it at that time. All I knew was he was an old Dekan with the bearing of a hardened warrior and a battle light that reminded me somewhat of my father. He said he sensed an unusual resonation of power within me, offering not only to take me under his tutelage, but a roof for both me and my sister as well. I agreed right on the spot. By the following summer, I was elevated to Commander status, with Einhoren as my jurisdiction."
"And here you are," I said, with a slight flourish of the hand, reflecting his smile.
He mock-bowed. "And here I am. So..." his own smile widened, "... friendship?" and held out his hand.
I regarded it with an amused, if slightly bored, expression. I looked at his face again, fingers poised under my chin, feigning deep thought. I let him hold his breath for a while, and without warning, I stood up. "It is late," I declared. "You shall stay for supper, and I shall have the servant golems prepare your rooms for you." I started to walk to the door, expecting him to follow. "Your horse, if you have one, shall be tended to as well, and will be ready until your departure at daybreak."
I never saw the playful way he skipped off the couch, nor the victorious grin he had as we exited into the hallway and teleported to the dining hall. I smiled, despite myself.
001 PROLOGUE: WITHOUT A NAME
002 CHAPTER 01: OF GODS AND MONSTERS
003 CHAPTER 02: AN UNLIKELY EMISSARY
004 CHAPTER 03: AN ADVENT TO SHADOWS
005 INTERMEZZO: WHITE NOISE
006 CHAPTER 04: SEEDS OF DESTRUCTION, THE BOY-AVATAR AWAKENS
007 CHAPTER 05: STORM ON THE CELESTIAL CASTLE
008 CHAPTER 06: THE PATH TO DECIMATION
009 INTERMEZZO: THE LAST PAWN
010 CHAPTER 07: EIGHT YEARS AGO
011 FINAL CHAPTER: THE WISDOM FROM FRIENDS
"I gathered the dead and burned them. Peering into their fear-burnt and lifeless faces, all I could think of was the paralyzing void of loss. There was nothing else in my heart. These people had families, people who loved them waiting for them somewhere. The overwhelming sense of it was packed tight into my 11-year old body. I could only imagine how Rosalind must have felt.
"I buried our parents last. Our father's sword, I laid on his chest; our mother seemingly asleep beside him. Her face was immaculate. Their bodies and faces both seemed to say they were ready to cross the veil. I was carrying Rosalind as I lit the pyre. She was silent now, her hands cold and numb, no doubt mirroring the chill in her heart. We stayed where we were until there was nothing but ash."
Alaric was looking at his feet, head reclined on the back of the couch, empty goblet of wine twirling on his hands. His eyes looked more distant than sad, as if he were reading himself a story from a book. He placed the goblet back on the table, let out a sigh, smiled, and looked at me. "Nothing much happened after that. My sister and I never returned to Ash Valley. We never went to Ehres Harbor either. We took a path and walked straight on it without looking back, living off the land. With my newfound strength and endurance, I could walk on for miles without needing food. Hunting game for my sister was not that difficult, and I almost never slept, watching over her during the night.
"Eventually, the path we were on led us to Einhoren. It must have been five days since the Festival, but the town was still talking about the devastation that happened at the Tranquil Forest. Me and my sister never said a word about it. Instead, I tried looking for honest work -- from the smallest fetching duties to apprenticing for one of the minor blacksmiths.
"It wasn't long before the Guild Master found me. Of course, I didn't know it at that time. All I knew was he was an old Dekan with the bearing of a hardened warrior and a battle light that reminded me somewhat of my father. He said he sensed an unusual resonation of power within me, offering not only to take me under his tutelage, but a roof for both me and my sister as well. I agreed right on the spot. By the following summer, I was elevated to Commander status, with Einhoren as my jurisdiction."
"And here you are," I said, with a slight flourish of the hand, reflecting his smile.
He mock-bowed. "And here I am. So..." his own smile widened, "... friendship?" and held out his hand.
I regarded it with an amused, if slightly bored, expression. I looked at his face again, fingers poised under my chin, feigning deep thought. I let him hold his breath for a while, and without warning, I stood up. "It is late," I declared. "You shall stay for supper, and I shall have the servant golems prepare your rooms for you." I started to walk to the door, expecting him to follow. "Your horse, if you have one, shall be tended to as well, and will be ready until your departure at daybreak."
I never saw the playful way he skipped off the couch, nor the victorious grin he had as we exited into the hallway and teleported to the dining hall. I smiled, despite myself.
Thursday, August 20, 2009
The Tome of Blue Flames: Seeds of Destruction, the Boy-Avatar Awakens
Disclaimer: Rohan Online is not mine, but YNK Interactive and -- I guess to a degree -- Level Up! Games let me use it as a playground. I am not making money out of this, so please don't sue me. Also, the order of which the story should be read is as follows:
001 PROLOGUE: WITHOUT A NAME
002 CHAPTER 01: OF GODS AND MONSTERS
003 CHAPTER 02: AN UNLIKELY EMISSARY
004 CHAPTER 03: AN ADVENT TO SHADOWS
005 INTERMEZZO: WHITE NOISE
006 CHAPTER 04: SEEDS OF DESTRUCTION, THE BOY-AVATAR AWAKENS
007 CHAPTER 05: STORM ON THE CELESTIAL CASTLE
008 CHAPTER 06: THE PATH TO DECIMATION
009 INTERMEZZO: THE LAST PAWN
010 CHAPTER 07: EIGHT YEARS AGO
011 FINAL CHAPTER: THE WISDOM FROM FRIENDS
A fortnight had passed since the siege at Siemech. Naturally, our guild had taken the stronghold. Before sundown on the same day, the banners of the opposing guild were taken down, replaced by our own -- a single silver star on the corner of a black field. During the festivities that came after, our Guild Master magnanimously bestowed Siemech to a lesser guild which had proven their allegiance to us for many a time.
Of course, the Guild Master never forgot the special mission our small unit undertook, although I was the only one to receive the honor at that time. Both our young leader and the Dhan were still at the care of our guild's healers (pretentiously calling themselves the Conclave of the Pure) and they would not be available until the morrow, I was told.
I was anxious to speak with our leader, but the icy White Elves did not permit me to enter his rooms, promptly slamming the door to my face before I even finished stating my request. I'd made sure to bow apologetically to the the offending door, careful not to let a few prissy White Elves get the better of me. The continents think Dark Elves arrogant, but the White Elves are actually even haughtier, pretending to like everyone. At least we admit to our arrogance. The guards regarded me with a perplexed look.
I spent the evening at Siemech, hoping to talk with the leader the following day. My patience was unrewarded however. In the afternoon, while I was exploring the stronghold's underground library, I was told by a young, nervous-looking Dekan novice from our ally guild whom I'd clandestinely hired the previous evening to keep an eye on our young leader that our quarry had left the care of the Conclave. I gave the trembling apprentice a curt nod and a pouch heavy with Crones and sent him on his way.
I was left in a conundrum. There was no way for me to know the whereabouts of our young leader. This guild thrives on secrecy -- names, origins, personal affairs of each member, even ceremonies are kept to the barest minimum. Only the guild crest magically embedded upon initiation at the back of each novitiate's left hand serves as a testament of affiliation. And even that, only our Guild Master and his commanders can activate.
I stepped out of the library and headed to the portal in the middle of the courtyard, trying to hide the tumult in my mind by looking purposeful and taking long, deliberate strides. There was no doubting we would meet again, of course. I simply had to shelf the idea as to when, else I'd go mad with anticipation. "Ignis. Montt," I said to the portal keeper, and in a breath, I was home.
001 PROLOGUE: WITHOUT A NAME
002 CHAPTER 01: OF GODS AND MONSTERS
003 CHAPTER 02: AN UNLIKELY EMISSARY
004 CHAPTER 03: AN ADVENT TO SHADOWS
005 INTERMEZZO: WHITE NOISE
006 CHAPTER 04: SEEDS OF DESTRUCTION, THE BOY-AVATAR AWAKENS
007 CHAPTER 05: STORM ON THE CELESTIAL CASTLE
008 CHAPTER 06: THE PATH TO DECIMATION
009 INTERMEZZO: THE LAST PAWN
010 CHAPTER 07: EIGHT YEARS AGO
011 FINAL CHAPTER: THE WISDOM FROM FRIENDS
A fortnight had passed since the siege at Siemech. Naturally, our guild had taken the stronghold. Before sundown on the same day, the banners of the opposing guild were taken down, replaced by our own -- a single silver star on the corner of a black field. During the festivities that came after, our Guild Master magnanimously bestowed Siemech to a lesser guild which had proven their allegiance to us for many a time.
Of course, the Guild Master never forgot the special mission our small unit undertook, although I was the only one to receive the honor at that time. Both our young leader and the Dhan were still at the care of our guild's healers (pretentiously calling themselves the Conclave of the Pure) and they would not be available until the morrow, I was told.
I was anxious to speak with our leader, but the icy White Elves did not permit me to enter his rooms, promptly slamming the door to my face before I even finished stating my request. I'd made sure to bow apologetically to the the offending door, careful not to let a few prissy White Elves get the better of me. The continents think Dark Elves arrogant, but the White Elves are actually even haughtier, pretending to like everyone. At least we admit to our arrogance. The guards regarded me with a perplexed look.
I spent the evening at Siemech, hoping to talk with the leader the following day. My patience was unrewarded however. In the afternoon, while I was exploring the stronghold's underground library, I was told by a young, nervous-looking Dekan novice from our ally guild whom I'd clandestinely hired the previous evening to keep an eye on our young leader that our quarry had left the care of the Conclave. I gave the trembling apprentice a curt nod and a pouch heavy with Crones and sent him on his way.
I was left in a conundrum. There was no way for me to know the whereabouts of our young leader. This guild thrives on secrecy -- names, origins, personal affairs of each member, even ceremonies are kept to the barest minimum. Only the guild crest magically embedded upon initiation at the back of each novitiate's left hand serves as a testament of affiliation. And even that, only our Guild Master and his commanders can activate.
I stepped out of the library and headed to the portal in the middle of the courtyard, trying to hide the tumult in my mind by looking purposeful and taking long, deliberate strides. There was no doubting we would meet again, of course. I simply had to shelf the idea as to when, else I'd go mad with anticipation. "Ignis. Montt," I said to the portal keeper, and in a breath, I was home.
Sunday, August 16, 2009
A Journey Of A Thousand Miles
... will get you sore feet that will not move for anything as soon as you get home in the evening. Yesterday's Manila trek with Chris and Ly was one of the most exhausting trips I've ever experienced.
It's not without good trade-offs, however. Got to try out Estero at Binondo for lunch, for instance. Food was really good and really cheap. Chris ordered a shrimp dish, and Ly and I got beef in spicy sauce. For rice, we had Shanghai fried. We barely scratched the surface of what Estero had to offer, so I hope we're be going back in the near future.
After our tummies were happy, we walked to Binondo church to say hi to the statues and, well, mostly get away from the heat. It's been a while since I stepped inside a church, so I felt the need to ask, "What do we do inside?" I had to convince myself we won't get struck down by lightning in divine retribution just by being there and looking at the murals. Growing up studying in a Catholic school has made me a bit paranoid about being inside churches, apparently.
After paying our respects to the Lynda Carter angels (Ly's fault) by the church's main entrance, we headed out for coffee to wait until the heat fizzles out. But as it turns out, our wait wasn't worth much since the heat was still pounding down on us by the time we decided to walk again.
Ly wanted to check out some craft stuff at Divisoria, which was... I suppose relatively near, so we thought it would be OK to walk. After twenty, thirty minutes of trudging through back roads and alleyways and streets of freshly-laid out asphalt burning through the soles of our shoes, we finally found Tabora. Up and down we went for more or less an hour and a half until Ly had his fill of things he doesn't need. (Hee hee.)
By 4:00pm, we started walking towards another destination. This time from Tabora to Reina Regente, where we were getting a jeep to take us to Recto and ride the D. Jose train to Pedro Gil. Amaryllis will be at the Level Up! Games event that was taking place at Robinson's Manila, and I said I'd dropped by to say hi and check out the festivities.
We got there by 5:00pm when the event was about to end. Good thing we still caught up with Amaryllis, tho. Chris had to go home by this time, so Ly and I went with Amaryllis instead to Walter Mart Makati where she'd be meeting up a friend at 9:00pm. We kept her company until around 8:00pm and then Ly had to get home.
I walked with Ly from Walter Mart Makati to Buendia where he'd be getting a ride to the Ayala MRT Station. I thought it was still too early, so I decided to keep him company until he got to Ayala. Arriving at the station and having nowhere else to go, I turned back to the direction where I came from and started the long walk home.
By the time I got to Dela Rosa, which was almost near my place, my feet were already begging for mercy. I almost took off my shoes to walk barefoot since there was no one around anyway, but decided against it. The minute I got home, I fixed myself a large tumbler of ice-cold orange juice, retreated to my room, put my feet up, and gave in to happy, happy, blissful exhaustion.
It's not without good trade-offs, however. Got to try out Estero at Binondo for lunch, for instance. Food was really good and really cheap. Chris ordered a shrimp dish, and Ly and I got beef in spicy sauce. For rice, we had Shanghai fried. We barely scratched the surface of what Estero had to offer, so I hope we're be going back in the near future.
After our tummies were happy, we walked to Binondo church to say hi to the statues and, well, mostly get away from the heat. It's been a while since I stepped inside a church, so I felt the need to ask, "What do we do inside?" I had to convince myself we won't get struck down by lightning in divine retribution just by being there and looking at the murals. Growing up studying in a Catholic school has made me a bit paranoid about being inside churches, apparently.
After paying our respects to the Lynda Carter angels (Ly's fault) by the church's main entrance, we headed out for coffee to wait until the heat fizzles out. But as it turns out, our wait wasn't worth much since the heat was still pounding down on us by the time we decided to walk again.
Ly wanted to check out some craft stuff at Divisoria, which was... I suppose relatively near, so we thought it would be OK to walk. After twenty, thirty minutes of trudging through back roads and alleyways and streets of freshly-laid out asphalt burning through the soles of our shoes, we finally found Tabora. Up and down we went for more or less an hour and a half until Ly had his fill of things he doesn't need. (Hee hee.)
By 4:00pm, we started walking towards another destination. This time from Tabora to Reina Regente, where we were getting a jeep to take us to Recto and ride the D. Jose train to Pedro Gil. Amaryllis will be at the Level Up! Games event that was taking place at Robinson's Manila, and I said I'd dropped by to say hi and check out the festivities.
We got there by 5:00pm when the event was about to end. Good thing we still caught up with Amaryllis, tho. Chris had to go home by this time, so Ly and I went with Amaryllis instead to Walter Mart Makati where she'd be meeting up a friend at 9:00pm. We kept her company until around 8:00pm and then Ly had to get home.
I walked with Ly from Walter Mart Makati to Buendia where he'd be getting a ride to the Ayala MRT Station. I thought it was still too early, so I decided to keep him company until he got to Ayala. Arriving at the station and having nowhere else to go, I turned back to the direction where I came from and started the long walk home.
By the time I got to Dela Rosa, which was almost near my place, my feet were already begging for mercy. I almost took off my shoes to walk barefoot since there was no one around anyway, but decided against it. The minute I got home, I fixed myself a large tumbler of ice-cold orange juice, retreated to my room, put my feet up, and gave in to happy, happy, blissful exhaustion.
Friday, August 14, 2009
Getting Back Into Shape
It feels good, having a renewed vigor in writing. It isn't much now, but at least I'm getting myself back into shape. Or, I don't know, was I "in shape" to begin with? Ah, well. I'm just glad I'm doing something productive with my time.
I owe this reincarnation to my most recent vice, Rohan Online. Sans the bugs and the rowdy community, the mythology is kind of cool, albeit (such an ugly word) suffering from a few loose details. Nevertheless, it tickled nerves enough in my brain to hotwire a revolution.
I started with one piece, and, without initially intending it to be, it is currently growing into something more. Enough, even, for me to draw out an outline (collective gasp). Yes, I have never been so formal with any work of fiction before, but the ideas just kept on gushing out that I felt I had to dam them in somehow else I might end up with something like this again.
Still. The prospect scares me. I feel I have bitten off far more than I can chew... but that has always been my problem. How do I know it's too much if I don't venture forth beyond the proverbial fog of war? I can do this. It's about time I do this.
____________________
PS: Too, I owe this hotwiring to someone I fancy calling my sister, Amaryllis. She gave me that little nudge which got me into role-playing my character in the Rohan Boards. Eventually I'd gotten to know other creative spirits, and even gods and goddesses. A deep court bow to the Mad God of Blue Flames, Flox, and his twin sister of white magic, Marea. This scribe hopes his words provide enough amusement to merit his continued existence.
I owe this reincarnation to my most recent vice, Rohan Online. Sans the bugs and the rowdy community, the mythology is kind of cool, albeit (such an ugly word) suffering from a few loose details. Nevertheless, it tickled nerves enough in my brain to hotwire a revolution.
I started with one piece, and, without initially intending it to be, it is currently growing into something more. Enough, even, for me to draw out an outline (collective gasp). Yes, I have never been so formal with any work of fiction before, but the ideas just kept on gushing out that I felt I had to dam them in somehow else I might end up with something like this again.
Still. The prospect scares me. I feel I have bitten off far more than I can chew... but that has always been my problem. How do I know it's too much if I don't venture forth beyond the proverbial fog of war? I can do this. It's about time I do this.
____________________
PS: Too, I owe this hotwiring to someone I fancy calling my sister, Amaryllis. She gave me that little nudge which got me into role-playing my character in the Rohan Boards. Eventually I'd gotten to know other creative spirits, and even gods and goddesses. A deep court bow to the Mad God of Blue Flames, Flox, and his twin sister of white magic, Marea. This scribe hopes his words provide enough amusement to merit his continued existence.
Thursday, August 13, 2009
The Tome of Blue Flames: Intermezzo (White Noise)
Disclaimer: Rohan Online is not mine, but YNK Interactive and -- I guess to a degree -- Level Up! Games let me use it as a playground. I am not making money out of this, so please don't sue me. Also, the order of which the story should be read is as follows:
001 PROLOGUE: WITHOUT A NAME
002 CHAPTER 01: OF GODS AND MONSTERS
003 CHAPTER 02: AN UNLIKELY EMISSARY
004 CHAPTER 03: AN ADVENT TO SHADOWS
005 INTERMEZZO: WHITE NOISE
006 CHAPTER 04: SEEDS OF DESTRUCTION, THE BOY-AVATAR AWAKENS
007 CHAPTER 05: STORM ON THE CELESTIAL CASTLE
008 CHAPTER 06: THE PATH TO DECIMATION
009 INTERMEZZO: THE LAST PAWN
010 CHAPTER 07: EIGHT YEARS AGO
011 FINAL CHAPTER: THE WISDOM FROM FRIENDS
Blink blink.
Dimness. Dust. My consciousness wakes. I feel a certain density slowly pressing down on me, filling my lungs with... water? Yes, all around me was nothing but water, yet I feel not the fierce struggles of drowning. There is only the sensation of both ascending and descending, of floating. And complete and absolute silence. At peace, I stay like this for a while.
Only the movement of dust suggested the passage of time here. So slow, so minute was their progress that I could not be sure if only a second had passed or an eternity. I was left contemplating on this.
Eventually, I found a voice. "I am. I am. I am," I repeat this to myself, but my mind could not seem to walk past it. The concept of who I am is closed off to me, and a wall shaped of smoke and shadow guards its secrets jealously. Still, I press on, and like a song or a prayer, I chant, "I am. I am. I am..."
And then I stop. I hear a faint voice in the distance. I float towards what I perceived to be its source, warily. The voice grows in volume, but no more discernible, like a chattering of a hundred angels. My movement becomes urgent, hurried. Upward and upward my legs propelled me until, at last, I find myself breaking through the surface.
I discover it is night. Moonless, but a vast field of stars stretches endlessly above. The voice is relentless. Treading water, I look around. After a while, I see a pulsating light in the distance. The voice strengthens. I swim.
Hours seemed to drag on; a glacier in my mind. As I swim, my head twists from side to side, seeing nothing but the white specks of stars splattered on dark canvass and the wide expanse of obsidian water spreading out in all directions. In front of me, occasionally, the light pulses intensely.
It wasn't long before fatigue begins to weigh on my limbs and the voice becomes oppressive, forming sharp, solid words assaulting my senses. At the exact same second when my arms are about to give in and my legs collapse from under me, the light explodes to a spectacular nova. And within moments, I felt the searing of flesh and a dagger-sharp pain through my chest. "The time is now," the voice imploded in my head. I screamed.
Blink blink.
Dry. Steam. I stir, and find myself on dry land. I feel the jagged sharpness of the untamed earth biting into the flesh of my back and legs as I move to sit my body upright. I seem to be naked, but somehow it does not matter. I hold on to a protrusion of rock on the wall beside me to steady myself while I stand.
I look around. It must be nearing dusk. Nothing but boulders and pebbles and the occasional jet of steam permeate my vision. Something in the distance catches my eye. A sudden bluish spark. My hand never leaves the assurance of the wall of rocks beside me as I limp towards the object, glinting as a jewel would perched on top of a hill under the setting sun -- like a proud, old queen on her throne. But as I neared it, I noticed it wasn't a jewel at all. It was not even small. I walked around another hill of rocks to expose the entire body of my discovery.
A small, narrow tower stood before me, almost twice my height. Four sides it has, all black as soot. The corners were lined with glyphs, all ancient, crackling with crimson energy. And at every facet, three ribbings running parallel from base to tip exposed what was inside -- the slow, languid flow of cerulean manna.
Doors start to open in my mind and fear creeps into my veins. I climb the beside the tower to have a farther view of this strange, seemingly barren land. Upon reaching the summit, all doubts flew from my mind. Scattered across the terrain, almost hidden in between the rise and fall of volcanic rock, were a smattering of blue-glowing towers. Mana ports. And in the distance, far to the south, set upon the sky like an obsidian bauble, were the dark spires of Montt. I am in Ignis. This very spot is Sinner's Inheritance.
I fall to my knees. This is all wrong, somehow. I clutch my chest. I feel a certain emptiness, a sense of something lacking, something incomplete swimming inside of me. I shouldn't be here.
"The time is now," said a sing-song voice in my head, the tone suggesting a warning. It made me look up. Below me and to the right, on the rocky path, I sensed the approach of something dissonant. Something ominous. I turned my head to look at the path below and behind me, but plumes of smoke obscured my vision.
I heard before I saw. It was a horse. On it was... a man? A woman? The hood and cloak concealed enough for me not to be entirely sure. The arms seemed slim from this distance but the legs that straddled the beast looked lean and masculine.
As it neared, however, I noticed something strange about its periphery. Human, its life signs suggested, emanating an ordinary frequency as Humans would to the Weave. There was something different about this one however. Something disparate. And then I saw it. Or rather, I felt it. Time slowed to a crawl. The yawning emptiness in my chest raged as the rider passed. I crumpled to the ground as the pain wracked in waves through my mind. I struggled to keep my vision open, boring through the rider with my eyes. There it was! A flicker, as if in resonance to my own, and absolutely separate from the Weave -- the same black throbbing emptiness that I possess.
I struggled to my feet, trying not to convulse in the intense pain. I must follow it. And, without knowing how I did it, I took to the air and followed it.
001 PROLOGUE: WITHOUT A NAME
002 CHAPTER 01: OF GODS AND MONSTERS
003 CHAPTER 02: AN UNLIKELY EMISSARY
004 CHAPTER 03: AN ADVENT TO SHADOWS
005 INTERMEZZO: WHITE NOISE
006 CHAPTER 04: SEEDS OF DESTRUCTION, THE BOY-AVATAR AWAKENS
007 CHAPTER 05: STORM ON THE CELESTIAL CASTLE
008 CHAPTER 06: THE PATH TO DECIMATION
009 INTERMEZZO: THE LAST PAWN
010 CHAPTER 07: EIGHT YEARS AGO
011 FINAL CHAPTER: THE WISDOM FROM FRIENDS
Blink blink.
Dimness. Dust. My consciousness wakes. I feel a certain density slowly pressing down on me, filling my lungs with... water? Yes, all around me was nothing but water, yet I feel not the fierce struggles of drowning. There is only the sensation of both ascending and descending, of floating. And complete and absolute silence. At peace, I stay like this for a while.
Only the movement of dust suggested the passage of time here. So slow, so minute was their progress that I could not be sure if only a second had passed or an eternity. I was left contemplating on this.
Eventually, I found a voice. "I am. I am. I am," I repeat this to myself, but my mind could not seem to walk past it. The concept of who I am is closed off to me, and a wall shaped of smoke and shadow guards its secrets jealously. Still, I press on, and like a song or a prayer, I chant, "I am. I am. I am..."
And then I stop. I hear a faint voice in the distance. I float towards what I perceived to be its source, warily. The voice grows in volume, but no more discernible, like a chattering of a hundred angels. My movement becomes urgent, hurried. Upward and upward my legs propelled me until, at last, I find myself breaking through the surface.
I discover it is night. Moonless, but a vast field of stars stretches endlessly above. The voice is relentless. Treading water, I look around. After a while, I see a pulsating light in the distance. The voice strengthens. I swim.
Hours seemed to drag on; a glacier in my mind. As I swim, my head twists from side to side, seeing nothing but the white specks of stars splattered on dark canvass and the wide expanse of obsidian water spreading out in all directions. In front of me, occasionally, the light pulses intensely.
It wasn't long before fatigue begins to weigh on my limbs and the voice becomes oppressive, forming sharp, solid words assaulting my senses. At the exact same second when my arms are about to give in and my legs collapse from under me, the light explodes to a spectacular nova. And within moments, I felt the searing of flesh and a dagger-sharp pain through my chest. "The time is now," the voice imploded in my head. I screamed.
Blink blink.
Dry. Steam. I stir, and find myself on dry land. I feel the jagged sharpness of the untamed earth biting into the flesh of my back and legs as I move to sit my body upright. I seem to be naked, but somehow it does not matter. I hold on to a protrusion of rock on the wall beside me to steady myself while I stand.
I look around. It must be nearing dusk. Nothing but boulders and pebbles and the occasional jet of steam permeate my vision. Something in the distance catches my eye. A sudden bluish spark. My hand never leaves the assurance of the wall of rocks beside me as I limp towards the object, glinting as a jewel would perched on top of a hill under the setting sun -- like a proud, old queen on her throne. But as I neared it, I noticed it wasn't a jewel at all. It was not even small. I walked around another hill of rocks to expose the entire body of my discovery.
A small, narrow tower stood before me, almost twice my height. Four sides it has, all black as soot. The corners were lined with glyphs, all ancient, crackling with crimson energy. And at every facet, three ribbings running parallel from base to tip exposed what was inside -- the slow, languid flow of cerulean manna.
Doors start to open in my mind and fear creeps into my veins. I climb the beside the tower to have a farther view of this strange, seemingly barren land. Upon reaching the summit, all doubts flew from my mind. Scattered across the terrain, almost hidden in between the rise and fall of volcanic rock, were a smattering of blue-glowing towers. Mana ports. And in the distance, far to the south, set upon the sky like an obsidian bauble, were the dark spires of Montt. I am in Ignis. This very spot is Sinner's Inheritance.
I fall to my knees. This is all wrong, somehow. I clutch my chest. I feel a certain emptiness, a sense of something lacking, something incomplete swimming inside of me. I shouldn't be here.
"The time is now," said a sing-song voice in my head, the tone suggesting a warning. It made me look up. Below me and to the right, on the rocky path, I sensed the approach of something dissonant. Something ominous. I turned my head to look at the path below and behind me, but plumes of smoke obscured my vision.
I heard before I saw. It was a horse. On it was... a man? A woman? The hood and cloak concealed enough for me not to be entirely sure. The arms seemed slim from this distance but the legs that straddled the beast looked lean and masculine.
As it neared, however, I noticed something strange about its periphery. Human, its life signs suggested, emanating an ordinary frequency as Humans would to the Weave. There was something different about this one however. Something disparate. And then I saw it. Or rather, I felt it. Time slowed to a crawl. The yawning emptiness in my chest raged as the rider passed. I crumpled to the ground as the pain wracked in waves through my mind. I struggled to keep my vision open, boring through the rider with my eyes. There it was! A flicker, as if in resonance to my own, and absolutely separate from the Weave -- the same black throbbing emptiness that I possess.
I struggled to my feet, trying not to convulse in the intense pain. I must follow it. And, without knowing how I did it, I took to the air and followed it.
Friday, August 07, 2009
The Tome of Blue Flames: An Advent to Shadows
Disclaimer: Rohan Online is not mine, but YNK Interactive and -- I guess to a degree -- Level Up! Games let me use it as a playground. I am not making money out of this, so please don't sue me. Also, the order of which the story should be read is as follows:
001 PROLOGUE: WITHOUT A NAME
002 CHAPTER 01: OF GODS AND MONSTERS
003 CHAPTER 02: AN UNLIKELY EMISSARY
004 CHAPTER 03: AN ADVENT TO SHADOWS
005 INTERMEZZO: WHITE NOISE
006 CHAPTER 04: SEEDS OF DESTRUCTION, THE BOY-AVATAR AWAKENS
007 CHAPTER 05: STORM ON THE CELESTIAL CASTLE
008 CHAPTER 06: THE PATH TO DECIMATION
009 INTERMEZZO: THE LAST PAWN
010 CHAPTER 07: EIGHT YEARS AGO
011 FINAL CHAPTER: THE WISDOM FROM FRIENDS
When our entire force arrived at the outskirts of Siemech three hours prior, our Guild Master wasted no time and called for a War Council with his commanders right away. Every one of them was present, although I wasn't made privy to their names. No one within my rank was, I suppose, as was customary. This is an old, strong guild with old, strong traditions. It still makes me wonder why I was recruited in the first place.
The Human youth was among them. I have seen him a few times before, sitting at the council table during fortnightly gatherings, but not everytime. He speaks when he is spoken to, but more often than not he is seen sipping on his goblet, lips a morose straight line, and eyes ponderous and thoughtful.
It wasn't long before the Council adjourned and the commanders dispersed to their respective squadrons. I was surprised to see the Human youth walking towards me. "Brother Dark Elf," he called.
"Brother," I said in acknowledgment.
"I have special orders from our Guild Master. I am to choose among the force three individuals to create a special squadron." He paused for a response. I nodded for him to go on. "While the rest of the force is assembled throughout various points around the Siemech stronghold for the siege, our squadron will stealthily infiltrate their walls and take down their Captain of the Guard."
"My magic would mainly serve as support, then, rather than assault."
"Yes, and transport." He produced a ring from a little pouch slung on his belt. "Here is a summon ring. Two more Dhans will be recruited to complete our party. I shall activate it once our squadron is complete. Be ready."
I nodded one last time before he turned away. It was rather odd, taking commands from someone significantly shorter, but the inert power the youth possesses is undeniable. Any doubts I might have from him being in the council have been adequately dispelled just by a few moments of being in close quarters. I returned to my meditation.
001 PROLOGUE: WITHOUT A NAME
002 CHAPTER 01: OF GODS AND MONSTERS
003 CHAPTER 02: AN UNLIKELY EMISSARY
004 CHAPTER 03: AN ADVENT TO SHADOWS
005 INTERMEZZO: WHITE NOISE
006 CHAPTER 04: SEEDS OF DESTRUCTION, THE BOY-AVATAR AWAKENS
007 CHAPTER 05: STORM ON THE CELESTIAL CASTLE
008 CHAPTER 06: THE PATH TO DECIMATION
009 INTERMEZZO: THE LAST PAWN
010 CHAPTER 07: EIGHT YEARS AGO
011 FINAL CHAPTER: THE WISDOM FROM FRIENDS
When our entire force arrived at the outskirts of Siemech three hours prior, our Guild Master wasted no time and called for a War Council with his commanders right away. Every one of them was present, although I wasn't made privy to their names. No one within my rank was, I suppose, as was customary. This is an old, strong guild with old, strong traditions. It still makes me wonder why I was recruited in the first place.
The Human youth was among them. I have seen him a few times before, sitting at the council table during fortnightly gatherings, but not everytime. He speaks when he is spoken to, but more often than not he is seen sipping on his goblet, lips a morose straight line, and eyes ponderous and thoughtful.
It wasn't long before the Council adjourned and the commanders dispersed to their respective squadrons. I was surprised to see the Human youth walking towards me. "Brother Dark Elf," he called.
"Brother," I said in acknowledgment.
"I have special orders from our Guild Master. I am to choose among the force three individuals to create a special squadron." He paused for a response. I nodded for him to go on. "While the rest of the force is assembled throughout various points around the Siemech stronghold for the siege, our squadron will stealthily infiltrate their walls and take down their Captain of the Guard."
"My magic would mainly serve as support, then, rather than assault."
"Yes, and transport." He produced a ring from a little pouch slung on his belt. "Here is a summon ring. Two more Dhans will be recruited to complete our party. I shall activate it once our squadron is complete. Be ready."
I nodded one last time before he turned away. It was rather odd, taking commands from someone significantly shorter, but the inert power the youth possesses is undeniable. Any doubts I might have from him being in the council have been adequately dispelled just by a few moments of being in close quarters. I returned to my meditation.
Tuesday, August 04, 2009
The Tome of Blue Flames: An Unlikely Emissary
Disclaimer: Rohan Online is not mine, but YNK Interactive and -- I guess to a degree -- Level Up! Games let me use it as a playground. I am not making money out of this, so please don't sue me. Also, the order of which the story should be read is as follows:
001 PROLOGUE: WITHOUT A NAME
002 CHAPTER 01: OF GODS AND MONSTERS
003 CHAPTER 02: AN UNLIKELY EMISSARY
004 CHAPTER 03: AN ADVENT TO SHADOWS
005 INTERMEZZO: WHITE NOISE
006 CHAPTER 04: SEEDS OF DESTRUCTION, THE BOY-AVATAR AWAKENS
007 CHAPTER 05: STORM ON THE CELESTIAL CASTLE
008 CHAPTER 06: THE PATH TO DECIMATION
009 INTERMEZZO: THE LAST PAWN
010 CHAPTER 07: EIGHT YEARS AGO
011 FINAL CHAPTER: THE WISDOM FROM FRIENDS
Another three fell before me. I lowered my staff and whispered an incantation of dispelling of psychic threads to the Weave, and exhaled. Looking to my right, it seems that my Dhan comrade has just ended his little frolic with two of the enemy guild's numbers as well.
The leader of our squadron, a Human male no more than a stripling youth, is hard-pressed on his battle with the Captain of the Guard. The singing of steel on steel rang on through the cold, crisp Siemech dawn, with no telltale signs of breaking.
"Do you think we should help him out?" said the Dhan, who was suddenly, stealthily beside me. I have long stopped being surprised and amazed at how silent and agile the Dhans can be. The culture and the ways of their people might be a mystery to the entire continent, but the fact that they are all trained assassins is no secret. Chilling to think about what they go through before they are given leave to explore the walls outside Kowarre, their home country.
"He will not allow it," I said without taking my eyes off the fight. Although I must admit, there is a faint scalding in my throat of a spell of empowerment threatening to be let loose. But our leader made it clear before our assault that he alone will face the Captain of the Guard, and he will brook no interference from any of us. Young he may be, but the potent power in his voice reserved no place for contention.
001 PROLOGUE: WITHOUT A NAME
002 CHAPTER 01: OF GODS AND MONSTERS
003 CHAPTER 02: AN UNLIKELY EMISSARY
004 CHAPTER 03: AN ADVENT TO SHADOWS
005 INTERMEZZO: WHITE NOISE
006 CHAPTER 04: SEEDS OF DESTRUCTION, THE BOY-AVATAR AWAKENS
007 CHAPTER 05: STORM ON THE CELESTIAL CASTLE
008 CHAPTER 06: THE PATH TO DECIMATION
009 INTERMEZZO: THE LAST PAWN
010 CHAPTER 07: EIGHT YEARS AGO
011 FINAL CHAPTER: THE WISDOM FROM FRIENDS
Another three fell before me. I lowered my staff and whispered an incantation of dispelling of psychic threads to the Weave, and exhaled. Looking to my right, it seems that my Dhan comrade has just ended his little frolic with two of the enemy guild's numbers as well.
The leader of our squadron, a Human male no more than a stripling youth, is hard-pressed on his battle with the Captain of the Guard. The singing of steel on steel rang on through the cold, crisp Siemech dawn, with no telltale signs of breaking.
"Do you think we should help him out?" said the Dhan, who was suddenly, stealthily beside me. I have long stopped being surprised and amazed at how silent and agile the Dhans can be. The culture and the ways of their people might be a mystery to the entire continent, but the fact that they are all trained assassins is no secret. Chilling to think about what they go through before they are given leave to explore the walls outside Kowarre, their home country.
"He will not allow it," I said without taking my eyes off the fight. Although I must admit, there is a faint scalding in my throat of a spell of empowerment threatening to be let loose. But our leader made it clear before our assault that he alone will face the Captain of the Guard, and he will brook no interference from any of us. Young he may be, but the potent power in his voice reserved no place for contention.
Sunday, August 02, 2009
The Tome of Blue Flames: Of Gods And Monsters
Disclaimer: Rohan Online is not mine, but YNK Interactive and -- I guess to a degree -- Level Up! Games let me use it as a playground. I am not making money out of this, so please don't sue me. Also, the order of which the story should be read is as follows:
001 PROLOGUE: WITHOUT A NAME
002 CHAPTER 01: OF GODS AND MONSTERS
003 CHAPTER 02: AN UNLIKELY EMISSARY
004 CHAPTER 03: AN ADVENT TO SHADOWS
005 INTERMEZZO: WHITE NOISE
006 CHAPTER 04: SEEDS OF DESTRUCTION, THE BOY-AVATAR AWAKENS
007 CHAPTER 05: STORM ON THE CELESTIAL CASTLE
008 CHAPTER 06: THE PATH TO DECIMATION
009 INTERMEZZO: THE LAST PAWN
010 CHAPTER 07: EIGHT YEARS AGO
011 FINAL CHAPTER: THE WISDOM FROM FRIENDS
We are at war, that much cannot be denied. I have learned so many things, and I have been made privy to so many secrets since the Ceremony of Severance opened my crimson-cerulean eyes. I, and a great number of my peers, have been thrust in the middle of an ancient and cruel game of Gods and Monsters: Flox, the creator of our noble race whom I have been taught to respect my whole life, his twin sister Marea, and the rest of their wretched otherworldly kin, plan to kill us all.
Dark Elves have neither Mother nor Father. Rather, our concept of a "Mother" or a "Father" differ much greatly from that of other races. We are all of us, quite literally, born of flame. The molten, volcanic rocks of Ignis are the framework from which the ethereal spirits of flame and shadow coalesce into pale corporeal flesh. Our distinctly mismatched eyes represent the dual command we have over both the Crimson Fire of Life and the Cerulean Weave of Magic. Any other Dark Elf whom we refer to as Mother or Father are merely our mentors in mastering the arcane arts and harnessing the power of flame. Kinship therefore, for us, encompasses all Dark Elves in existence -- yes, including the murderous, scheming, incestuous Flox.
The Ceremony of Severance does exactly what it says it would do. It severs our ties from Flox, the madness he represents that taints the Weave, and the kinship embedded into us from our time of emergence. The Severance reveals that each Dark Elf, after being ensconced for a specific amount of time within his or her own corporeal form, develops an ethereal spirit akin to, putting it simply, Gods. Indeed, each individual Dark Elf possesses the inert potential to create life -- to create worlds -- as Flox had done with us, and as Ohn had done with Flox and his siblings.
The Fire and the Weave that mature together inside our pale forms will be the twofold key to unlocking the mystery of creation, and it is this exact same mystery His Grand Majesty George Lyonan had been working on his whole life.
The Academy of Blue Flames, before its fall to the plague of monsters, was dedicated to this research -- to unravel the various secrets of the Weave. Fortunately, the fruits of research have been well-preserved, even after the Academy has been overrun by the aberrant Worms and Golems. Flox's one great mistake was that he made us too much like him -- meticulous, down to the very last hair's-breadth detail.
What I do not understand however, is the reason why His Grand Majesty decides to hide this from the fledgling Dark Elves. He keeps them in the shadows and lets them mindlessly mouth exultations to Flox until he decides it is time to wrench them from blissful ignorance.
Perhaps his wisdom is beyond my understanding, but now that I have gone through The Severance, I am speculating it was necessary for us fledglings to completely understand our divine origins first and foremost. Perhaps he meant for us to understand this divine bond we had with Flox, and in turn, Flox's divine bonds with us, and how those selfsame bonds were painfully severed in rage and madness. Perhaps he meant for us to understand that as Flox, a God, severed himself from his children, we, logically, can sever ourselves from him.
This understanding, coupled with the knowledge that we are ourselves divine, catalyzed by our innate powers over the Flame and the Weave, both evolving over time and memory, in effect, turn us into Gods.
But enough philosophizing. Us Dark Elves might have been created with superior intellect surpassing any and all the other races, but overestimating could yet be our downfall. That is a mistake which should never happen. What I do understand is yes, my power is my own, and Flox, Marea, and their equally disdainful siblings, are raising hell on my home. Ohn must have seen this -- which makes it unsurprising why he decided to leave without a trace.
The Gathering Hall at Ehres Harbor was quiet, or at least, as quiet as it could get before first light. Nevertheless, I awoke from my reverie. My staff was humming with resonant, ambient magic, signaling my brothers-in-arms nearby. I stood up from where I was seated, dusted myself off, and lightly tapped my staff to the ground twice to dispel the magical cloaking I cast on myself the night before. I strode silently and leisurely through the closed stalls, past the cargoes being unloaded from the port, past the wounded, the sick, and the dying, and onto the nearest bindstone.
An unmoving form, silhouetted by the mana-blue light pillar before him, stood in response to my approach. "Brother," the silhouette voiced. Sharp and clear as the zhen it bore, the voice pierced through the dawn mist.
And in response, countless shadows moved in every corner of the forest, stepping into the light of the bindstone. To those I knew, I gave a nod. To those I did not know, I rendered the same courtesy. These are my brothers and sisters. These are my kin. Dark Elf I may be, noble and proud and esteemed of all races, but in a war of Gods and Monsters, us Gods must belong to one side.
The strongest among us, the Dekan silhouette, raised his zhen. The first dawn light seemed to split in two as it kissed the edge of the ancient draconic blade. "Dark Elves!" he shouted. His voice a deep, booming war drum rumbling the earth we were standing on.
I and my Dark Elf brethren raised our staves as one, channeling a mounting light from the Weave, portal spells ready to be cast at a word from our Guild Master. We are at war, a single mantra, a prayer, marched through my mind.
"To Siemech!" And before the radiant blanket of light engulfed the entire assemblage, I figured out who I was praying to. I smiled. We are at war. "And we will win," I breathed.
001 PROLOGUE: WITHOUT A NAME
002 CHAPTER 01: OF GODS AND MONSTERS
003 CHAPTER 02: AN UNLIKELY EMISSARY
004 CHAPTER 03: AN ADVENT TO SHADOWS
005 INTERMEZZO: WHITE NOISE
006 CHAPTER 04: SEEDS OF DESTRUCTION, THE BOY-AVATAR AWAKENS
007 CHAPTER 05: STORM ON THE CELESTIAL CASTLE
008 CHAPTER 06: THE PATH TO DECIMATION
009 INTERMEZZO: THE LAST PAWN
010 CHAPTER 07: EIGHT YEARS AGO
011 FINAL CHAPTER: THE WISDOM FROM FRIENDS
We are at war, that much cannot be denied. I have learned so many things, and I have been made privy to so many secrets since the Ceremony of Severance opened my crimson-cerulean eyes. I, and a great number of my peers, have been thrust in the middle of an ancient and cruel game of Gods and Monsters: Flox, the creator of our noble race whom I have been taught to respect my whole life, his twin sister Marea, and the rest of their wretched otherworldly kin, plan to kill us all.
Dark Elves have neither Mother nor Father. Rather, our concept of a "Mother" or a "Father" differ much greatly from that of other races. We are all of us, quite literally, born of flame. The molten, volcanic rocks of Ignis are the framework from which the ethereal spirits of flame and shadow coalesce into pale corporeal flesh. Our distinctly mismatched eyes represent the dual command we have over both the Crimson Fire of Life and the Cerulean Weave of Magic. Any other Dark Elf whom we refer to as Mother or Father are merely our mentors in mastering the arcane arts and harnessing the power of flame. Kinship therefore, for us, encompasses all Dark Elves in existence -- yes, including the murderous, scheming, incestuous Flox.
The Ceremony of Severance does exactly what it says it would do. It severs our ties from Flox, the madness he represents that taints the Weave, and the kinship embedded into us from our time of emergence. The Severance reveals that each Dark Elf, after being ensconced for a specific amount of time within his or her own corporeal form, develops an ethereal spirit akin to, putting it simply, Gods. Indeed, each individual Dark Elf possesses the inert potential to create life -- to create worlds -- as Flox had done with us, and as Ohn had done with Flox and his siblings.
The Fire and the Weave that mature together inside our pale forms will be the twofold key to unlocking the mystery of creation, and it is this exact same mystery His Grand Majesty George Lyonan had been working on his whole life.
The Academy of Blue Flames, before its fall to the plague of monsters, was dedicated to this research -- to unravel the various secrets of the Weave. Fortunately, the fruits of research have been well-preserved, even after the Academy has been overrun by the aberrant Worms and Golems. Flox's one great mistake was that he made us too much like him -- meticulous, down to the very last hair's-breadth detail.
What I do not understand however, is the reason why His Grand Majesty decides to hide this from the fledgling Dark Elves. He keeps them in the shadows and lets them mindlessly mouth exultations to Flox until he decides it is time to wrench them from blissful ignorance.
Perhaps his wisdom is beyond my understanding, but now that I have gone through The Severance, I am speculating it was necessary for us fledglings to completely understand our divine origins first and foremost. Perhaps he meant for us to understand this divine bond we had with Flox, and in turn, Flox's divine bonds with us, and how those selfsame bonds were painfully severed in rage and madness. Perhaps he meant for us to understand that as Flox, a God, severed himself from his children, we, logically, can sever ourselves from him.
This understanding, coupled with the knowledge that we are ourselves divine, catalyzed by our innate powers over the Flame and the Weave, both evolving over time and memory, in effect, turn us into Gods.
But enough philosophizing. Us Dark Elves might have been created with superior intellect surpassing any and all the other races, but overestimating could yet be our downfall. That is a mistake which should never happen. What I do understand is yes, my power is my own, and Flox, Marea, and their equally disdainful siblings, are raising hell on my home. Ohn must have seen this -- which makes it unsurprising why he decided to leave without a trace.
The Gathering Hall at Ehres Harbor was quiet, or at least, as quiet as it could get before first light. Nevertheless, I awoke from my reverie. My staff was humming with resonant, ambient magic, signaling my brothers-in-arms nearby. I stood up from where I was seated, dusted myself off, and lightly tapped my staff to the ground twice to dispel the magical cloaking I cast on myself the night before. I strode silently and leisurely through the closed stalls, past the cargoes being unloaded from the port, past the wounded, the sick, and the dying, and onto the nearest bindstone.
An unmoving form, silhouetted by the mana-blue light pillar before him, stood in response to my approach. "Brother," the silhouette voiced. Sharp and clear as the zhen it bore, the voice pierced through the dawn mist.
And in response, countless shadows moved in every corner of the forest, stepping into the light of the bindstone. To those I knew, I gave a nod. To those I did not know, I rendered the same courtesy. These are my brothers and sisters. These are my kin. Dark Elf I may be, noble and proud and esteemed of all races, but in a war of Gods and Monsters, us Gods must belong to one side.
The strongest among us, the Dekan silhouette, raised his zhen. The first dawn light seemed to split in two as it kissed the edge of the ancient draconic blade. "Dark Elves!" he shouted. His voice a deep, booming war drum rumbling the earth we were standing on.
I and my Dark Elf brethren raised our staves as one, channeling a mounting light from the Weave, portal spells ready to be cast at a word from our Guild Master. We are at war, a single mantra, a prayer, marched through my mind.
"To Siemech!" And before the radiant blanket of light engulfed the entire assemblage, I figured out who I was praying to. I smiled. We are at war. "And we will win," I breathed.