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Pathian's Dreams of the First Age

Dreams of the First Age: Part 1

    *cue dream wibble*

"It is necessary that these abominable cults be eliminated!" says the long-haired man, pounding his fist on the table. There is a small jade plaque on his desk written in the now familiar fluid characters of the Old Realm. Though you cannot read the text, you still know exactly what it says--Running Crane, Secretary for Primordial Affairs."

"Why not have the Terrestrials do it?" Dancing Ruby Phoenix asks. She looks almost the same as her current incarnation, though her hair is coal-black. Her sword "Answerer" is strapped to her back. "It isn't like we need to infiltrate the cult. We know all its members and their dwelling places. Why send a Solar to do it."

"The Deliberative feels that the increasing number of these cultists is a serious enough threat that an equally serious example must be set" Running Crane leans forward, steepling his hands. "The people deal with the Terrestrials governors on a day to day basis. They are used to seeing them, and even though the Dragon-Blooded are gods among men, the Solars are gods among the Exalted and would make a far deeper impression on the people. This impression is necessary if we are to stop this disturbing trend in its tracks."

"Besides, there is something you may not know. I have received evidence from an excellent source that Alia has been lending aid to the cultists. You may be required to combat her, and--if necessary--kill her. If the allegations are true, she has proven herself unworthy of her Exaltation."

Ruby gasps and opens her mouth to speak, but Running Crane holds up a hand.

"Will you do it, Seventh Son?" he says

In the dream, you can feel yourself nod as a grim smile spreads across your face. "I would be honored to so serve the Deliberative," you say, placing a fist over your heart. The other reaches down to one of the Orichalcum chakrums hanging at your waist, testing its for the edge you know has never left it since the day it was forged. It would be a task worthy of your time.

"I will put in a time for you at the House of Doors immediately," Running Crane says. "Be there at dusk. Dismissed."

With a nod to Ruby, you bow and walk out of the room.

    *dream wibble*

Dreams of the First Age: Part 2

    *cue dream wibble*

You hang suspended from the ceiling, cloaked by your anima and the power of your Essence. Below you, two Fair Folk nobles sit at a mahogany table and play a board game. They look innocent, but you are here because they have been accused of breaking the terms of their habitation contract. And so you listen.

"It's so...static here," one of them says. The speaker is a wearing a robe made entirely of bird feathers, with colored plumages that only the birds in the jungles around Rathess could match. His hair is bright blue, shot through with streaks of silver, and his eyes are every color of the rainbow. "I can't imagine why we came here in the first place, Arashi."

"The novelty, of course," says the other. It's Arashi, all right. After he rode at the head of that army, you would recognize him anywhere. "Change can get ever so dull. Besides, the others will be so jealous. They've never been granted the opportunity to live here in the Changeless Lands."

"Those agreements we had to make, though..." the first speaker trails off. "Are you certain you've found a loophole?"

Arashi smiles widely. "Of course I am. I wouldn't have called you here if I had not."

Like a spider, you crawl away across the ceiling. You've heard enough.

    *end dream wibble*

Dreams of the First Age: Part 3

    *cue dream wibble*

"No, you can't just kill them!" Ashraielle nearly shouts. She just got off the airship an hour ago, and her long green hair is still wild from the wind. It makes her look almost like a tree sprite, though more beautiful than any tree sprite you've ever seen.

"Why not?" you ask, fingering your chakrums. "They've been preying on the people north of the Valley of Snows for some time. This is the third petition they've sent to us asking one of the Chosen to intercede for them. We can't just let them get attacked!"

"We can and we must!" She sighs, pushing her hair back. "Look, Seven-kun, I know how hard it is to just leave them to their fate, but we have no choice. What with the plague last here, that area is already a red zone and there isn't enough trade there in the first place that I can afford to have it redirected from elsewhere. The barbarians provide a useful buffer on keeping that part of Creation static until we can replenish the population of the local villages. You know that an army of Fair Folk would be worse than anything that rabble does to those villagers.

"So we do nothing," you say. You clench your fists, letting the pain of your fingernails digging into your palms dispel some of your anger.

"I've already directed a request to Hayako-chan to see if she can increase the bounty of the surrounding land," Ashraielle replied. "But you know that I'm right. A Wyld incursion would be far worse and be harder to clean up. If you killed that tribe, the villagers might be happier for a season--maybe even for a year--but the Fair Folk would sense their chance and attack, and then it would be far worse than what would otherwise happen." She paused. "You know I'm right, Seven-kun."

You sigh. "You're right, you're right. But it goes against everything I believe to just let them die like that."

"It wasn't easy making this choice," Ashraielle said, "but I'm in charge of the border here, and I do what I must. Even so, it haunts me. The villagers wouldn't listen to my attempt to make peace and let the bandits coexist with them, so this is what I'm forced to do. I couldn't just force them to listen to me...it wouldn't be right. At least this way, they get free will...but they still die." She frowns. "I wish these decisions were easier."

You smile at her. "Ordering people to their deaths should never be easy, Ashrai-chan. When we forget that we were once human, that is the day we no longer deserve our Exaltation."

She slowly, radiantly, smiles back at you.

    *end dream wibble*

Dreams of the First Age: Part 4

    *cue dream wibble*

Your anima flares around you like a guttering candle as you walk through the caverns, lighting the dark stone walls for the first time since the Primordials brought Creation out of the swirling chaos of the Wyld. The darkness beyond the muted colors of your anima seems to press in you, almost like it's alive. The floor beneath your feet is worn smooth by the passage of eons of water, but no humans have ever walked in these hallways before.

The governor of Gethamane had sent a message up the command chain about miners in the Undercity disappearing without a trace, and Ashraielle had told you about it. She knew that you were interested in this sort of thing and offered you the first chance to go see what was wrong down there. Now that you're actually here, you're starting to wonder if it was a good idea. These tunnels were never built by human hands.

You remember the stories the Twilights tell of forgotten gods, banished by the Primordials to the depths of the earth. How they breed and spawn their monsters in the darkness, growing ever more twisted as their hatred for the light increases. How the followers that worship them become...changed. Warped by the channeling of their twisted Essence. A lovely thought. Nine Lives, Sun's Setting, and Hikari might be able to handle things that should never have been, but you prefer your reality stable.

Another fork. You pick the left one, heading deeper into the depths of the earth. You can't remember the number of times that you've done this, and you still haven't found anything useless beyond tunnels and more tunnels and more tunnels beyond the reach of even the most devoted miner.

Then the tentacles flash out of the darkness beyond the light and latch onto you.

Struggling to free yourself, you channel Essence through your body and flare your anima. For a moment, the tunnels are illuminated starkly in the blinding light of the noonday sun, and you can see your attackers clearly. The creatures in front of you, flinching away from the blinding light, should NOT exist!

Then the banner goes out, and the tentacles tighten their grips about your arms.

..and, your heart pounding and a battle-cry on your lips, you awaken.

    *end dream wibble*

Dreams of the First Age: Part 5

    *cue dream wibble*

You stagger out of the cave mouth, your body covered in a multitude of wounds and your caste mark glittering darkly on your forehead. Hundreds of tiny cuts, scrapes, bites, weals where tentacles or razor-edged mouths fed, burns, and worse marks cover your body, but you still live. You are chosen of the Unconquered Sun.

The miners stare at you in astonishment, amazed that one so gravely wounded is still standing under his own power. They move forward to asist you, but you immediately wave them off. You'll take an airship to the Blessed Isle to see Shining Star, and all that time in the air will let the Body-Mending Meditation do its job. But you have work to do, here and now.

"Seal off the new excavations," you order. "Today. With all the workers that you can spare."

The workers looks of astonishment only increase as you utter those words. One of them, the largest and strongest, steps forward. "But the new excavations yield twice the haul of all the previous excavations put together! There is even a vein or two of pure orichalcum down there! I apologize for doubting you, Prince of the Earth, but can we truly-"

"Yes. You can, and you will." You gesture behind you into the darkened tunnels. "All the wounds left upon my body, and the disappearances of the workers, can be traced to one thing--the Forgotten Gods. The deepest tunnels of your mines extend too far down, and they have broken that which should have never been unsealed. You must reseal the tunnels."

You lock eyes with the speaker, daring him to argue against you. He does not, and looks away after only a moment. Another man, braver or more foolish than his companion, does raise his voice.

"But, honored lord, you are a Prince of the Earth! Can you not defeat them as you defeated the Primordials in times past?"

You shake your head. "We could do it. But such a campaign would take generations of the lives of mortal men, and while our attention was diverted by the Forgotten Gods, who would guard the borders of Creation? No, it is better to seal them off and leave them as they should always have been. Forgotten."

The man bows. They part as you walk towards them, letting you pass between their ranks. You can see the winces as they stare at your abused body, and one man in the rear needs to vomit after your pants-leg blows open and reveals the pulped ruin of the flesh on your thigh. But you barely feel the pain. You have work to do, and Shining Star and Maenin will both be very interested in what you have found here.

    *end dream wibble*

Dreams of the First Age: Part 6

    *cue dream wibble* 

Maenin moves his Behemoth two squares forward, threatening both your Solar and your Lunar. Fortunately, he didn't seem to notice that your Fair Folk Noble on the upper board is in a perfect position to stop his latest attack. With a quick scan over the boards to make sure that there is nothing else he can do, you move your Noble into position, blocking his Behemoth. The two pieces growl at each other as Maenin blinks. "Good move, Seven-san," Maenin says. You smile. "It would have to be. I almost never have any support when I'm out working. I've had to learn tactics as a matter of course." "Are you enjoying your work?" Maenin asks. You nod. "Mostly. It gets somewhat repetitive. Kill this person, kill those bandits, kill that traitor, kill that Yozi cult, kill, kill, kill..." You sigh. "I sometimes feel like I'm one of those automatons that the Twilights are so proud of." "We are all made for a purpose," Maenin replies, fingering the golden torc about his neck. "In each of us, the Unconquered Sun has placed a portion of His Essence. You are-" You laugh, breaking Maenin off in mid-sentence. For a moment, astonishment fills his sun-bronzed features, but then he laughs as well. "I apologize, Seven-kun. I can be a bit pedantic at times." "That is the purpose of the Zenith Caste," you say. He smiles again before looking down at the board. "Where is Hikari?" "In the West. She went with Shining Star to stop the Fair Folk incursion." He looks at the Fair Folk Noble and the Behemoth, who have begun to fight a duel on the board. "If only that were the way things happened in Creation. The world would be far less trouble for us." You smile. "Back to the game, Maenin-san." He nods. "Back to the game."

    *end dream wibble* 

Dreams of the First Age: Part 7

    *cue dream wibble*

You slip through the corridors of the manse, silent as a shadow. The watcheyes do not see you, the endlessly patrolling automatons ignore you, the bound demons do not sniff you out. You are a ghost, a phantasm, a scent on the wind, and you move unseen towards the very center of the manse.

It’s dawn on New Year’s Day. By all rights, you should be at Meru in the Temple of the Sun, welcoming in the New Year, but you cannot. You have a task that must be done. Shining Star can’t be left alone anymore. You would have brought your complaint to the Deliberative, but the Children of the Sun have grown corrupt. You, however, can still see the truth, and so you have absented yourself from the ceremony to fulfil your mission.

After several minutes of wandering, you finally reach the central room of the manse. Shining Star is here, concentrating on the pedestal in the middle of the room. You cannot see exactly what she is doing, but it looks like she’s concentrating on a hearthstone of some sort. Fortunately, the hearthstone is unsocketed--it will do her no good. Her anima is already flaring, filling the room with a pillar of red-gold light, with larger bright points picking out the constellation of the Crow. Another useful point. Your reserves are almost full.

You drop your disguise as you reach out and hit the touch-panel, closing the door to the room. Shining Star perks up and starts to turn around, but before she can turn fully you concentrate Essence into your palm, forming a mote of burning light. Then, just as she turns to face you, you activate the Rain of Holy Light. The mote explodes outward from your hand, multiplying dozens--hundreds--of times over as it flies through the air towards her. The smile on her face dies as quickly as it was formed as she throws herself backwards to avoid the storm of cutting light. It is not enough.

The light fades, revealing Shining Star lying on the floor, bleeding from a dozen wounds. As you take a step forward, she rises to her feet, her eyes blazing with fury.

“HOW DARE YOU!” she shrieks. She begins chanting, the syllables harsh and discordant. Quickly, you reach down to your belt and remove the chakrams hanging there, charging them with Essence before hurling them at her. Like the motes of Essence before, they too multiply as they fly through the air, crackling with debilitating Essence. The impacts stagger Shining Star, causing her to lose control of the spell. There is a soundless explosion, throwing you off your feet and causing you to crack your head against the stone wall near the door.

You get up again, shaking the bright spots out of your eyes. Shining Star is lying on the floor. Most of her hair and clothes have been burned away by the renegade Essence of her spell, and what skin you can see is horribly scarred--even bubbling in places--but the supernatural toughness of the Exalted holds out, and she is still alive. You take a few steps forward as she raises her head.

“Why…” she rasps.

Your frown down at her. “I did what must be done,” you say. “The Children of the Sun have grown corrupt, and you not least among them. We all know of your ‘experiments,’ and your consorting with demons. The service of demons is one thing, but deals with them? Conversations? Friendships? It borders on treason.”

“I did…what was…necessary…”

“As did I. I can only hope you find peace in death.” You watch her struggle to speak through a mouthful of blood, then finally give up and sink to the floor. Her labored breathing slows and then finally stops as death films over her eyes.

And then, with only a moment’s warning from your supernatural awareness, raging fire explodes outward from the floor. The stone is vaporized in seconds, sending you tumbling through a cascade of rubble and flame. You pour all your remaining Essence into a defense, but the fire is just too hot. As the heat finally overwhelms you, your last thought is that at least Shining Star will do no more harm.

    *end dream wibble*

Dreams of some Age: Part 1

• dream wibble*

“Wake up, lazy head” you feel a hand tap you on your shoulder “its time for breakfast”

You make an unarticulated groan that your mother seems to take as “I’ll be right down” and she leaves your room. You get up and go about your morning routines, just like every other morning. You go downstairs and take a seat at the table, and begin methodically shoveling food into your mouth. Several minutes later when you are almost finished there is a knock at the door, your mother goes to answer it, and is in front of the door when it suddenly vaporizes in a spray of wood chips and ice. Ice? This is the dead of ascending fire, there shouldn’t be any ice! Your mother goes down impaled by shards of what used to be your front door, and you realize for the first time what is standing out there. A man in black jade armor steps into view.

“MOTHER!!” you scream.

The man in the jade armor smiles cruelly, “I see we got to you in time ANATHMA” he says, as he steps over the broken and bleeding body of your mother

“NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!” you scream as he starts for you. You grab at the table for something, anything that can protect you. Your hands close about your mug, and you hurl it at the man who has just killed your mother. As the mug leaves your hand, something miraculous happens; it leaves your hand with about 5 times the force that you should have been able to manage. The mug makes a screaming noise as it flies through the air, leaving behind it a trailing glow. The mug strikes the armored man in the face, leaving you just enough time to register the look of surprise on it before it is caved in, and the shards of what once was your mug rip into his face, removing several large chunks. The man makes a wet boneless pile on the floor next to your mother, as another man, this one in red armor steps through the door.

“Hey Micha… OH MY GOD” as he reaches back for his sword, which is strapped over his shoulder, your breakfast plate goes the way of my mug. The plate, being fairly un-aerodynamic, wobbles a bit in mid air, and instead of striking him edge on, as you had intended, it hits him bottom first, shattering his nose and knocking him back head over heels through the doorway. Outside you can hear many more cries of alarm, and you realize for the first time that the house is surrounded.

You grab what remains of our kitchen cutlery, and make your way upstairs. As you reach the top of the stairs, several fire arrows come through the window of the kitchen. The house, being wood, begins to burn quickly. The smoke quickly begins to rise to the second floor; you go to your room and peer out of the window. There are only two armored individuals out on this side, one in blue and one in green. You crack open the window and throw one of the knives aiming for the man in green armor. This knife glows much like the mug that you threw at the first armored man and takes the green armored individual in the throat. The blue armored man swings around and begins waving his hands in your direction. You sense a sudden flash of danger, back away from the window and dive through the doorway of your room. Seconds later the outer wall to the room is disintegrated by thousands upon thousands of black shards of glass, you make your way to the front of the house toward where your parent’s bedroom is, the smoke is almost enough to overcome you, as you kick out the window. The sudden rush of cool air is a blessing that keeps you from passing out. However your destruction of the window does not seem to go unnoticed, as four arrows come streaming in at you, you get this sudden urge to dive to the left, you dive out of the way of three of them but the fourth one scores a long scratch along your abdominal muscles, it bleeds for only a few seconds before stopping, so you figure that it isn’t too serious, It just hurts like hell. You don’t move for a few seconds, thinking that they might go to another one of the windows, since that has been your pattern thus far. You strain your hearing to its utmost, and suddenly you can hear them outside… you can hear them as if they were standing inches from you, and not yards.

“Let’s check the east side of the house” you recognize the voice of the man in the red armor from earlier. “You’re new at this aren’t you?” “What is that supposed to mean?” “Look at the smoke coming from the window and tell me what you see” “It seems like the smoke is reflecting the light from the fire from below it” “And why would that be?” “Well the room could be on fire…” “Just because they are anathema doesn’t mean that they aren’t stupid, they don’t run into burning rooms” “Well the floor could have…” “no, there you go again making assumptions, he wouldn’t have run into a room that was burning, and if the floor had burned through, he wouldn’t be running into the room either” you hear a dull thwap as if a mailed gauntlet had just been slapped onto the helm of the younger officer “there is no need to rush him in a fit of vengeance because he bloodied you, this anathema has been expensive enough as it is, we don’t need to loose more people.” “So if that isn’t fire what the hell is it?” “When anathema use their powers the dark energies that they use manifest themselves and make themselves easier for us to detect, this one has been using his powers, and now they are showing us that he is sitting in that room and waiting to see if we move off.”

What?! Energies? Manifestations? You are so confused that you look up into the smoke to see if you can tell what they are taking about, and realize that the smoke is glowing slightly. You are doing that? Well this puts a damper on your ability to escape… you decide to take a chance, and move back to the door of the room

“HA,” you hear the red armored one say “there he goes”

You go down to the end of the hall and break out that window too, and then get out of the way before they can shoot at you. You sprint down the hall back into your parents’ room and gathering yourself you leap out into open space through the hole where the window used to be. You aren’t falling… in fact you are still going up. This is amazing; it is as if you are flying. A sudden pain in your chest causes you to look down; you stare amazed as a broad headed arrow point punches its way through what used to be your right lung. You aren’t flying anymore… you are infact crashing to the ground… you manage to spin at the last second and roll with the fall. Unfortunately this also has the effect of breaking the arrow shaft protruding through your back, sending new waves of pain through you. You stop rolling facing the shambles of your house. Your unseen assailant steps forward from the wreckage that was your front yard. “You almost had us convinced anathema, we are just lucky that I have been on my share of wild hunts”… you recognize his voice as the man who was talking to the red armored man earlier. You shift, sending waves of agony through your chest. “For what it’s worth, you put up a good fight; few anathemas have ever killed someone under my command, let alone three.” You reach for your last knife, only to realize that it isn’t in your waistband where you left it tucked, it seems to have fallen out when you rolled. The dragon blooded smiles as you realize your defeat is at hand… you are slowly bleeding to death from the arrowhead that is still pushing its way through your chest, you can’t breathe very well, and you ache all over. You search for something, anything that can help you, as the dragon blooded raises his white jade bow and takes aim on your heart. “Good bye anathema” he says as he looses the shaft. In your last second you throw your hand forward, and wish with all of your might that something would happen that would stop this, or even perhaps just enough to take this self confident ass with you. And as if someone had heard your prayer, hundreds of breakfast mugs appear out of nowhere, and fly unerringly toward your opponent, the look of shock and dismay as he is disintegrated beneath your final attack makes it all… worth while… and then his arrow punches through your heart and the last thing you see is the home that you loved burning… burning and falling… and black.

• end dream wibble*

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