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| − | By MunificentPerception Back to [[/Dawn-2]]
| + | #REDIRECT [[SaltLotusSalt_Lotus/Zenith]]-2/[[SaltLotus2]] |
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| − | '''That night...'''
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| − | The war ghosts flared in flames of gold as the Charm-driven blade of glass cut through their materialized corpora. Burning away under the onslaught of Solar-aspected Essence, they experienced either the final horror of Oblivion or entry into the merciful state of forgetful bliss that would see them on the way to future mortal incarnations. As the last of the dead combatants flicked out, Holvic Kagi stood in a circle of illumination underneath the prophetic glow of the constellations. His vigorous expenditure of Essence had called into being the Caste Mark on his forehead, which shone with noon sunlight. The sun’s newly chosen priest waited in the Golden Essence Attitude stance for a count of thirty after the last opponent had vanished. He listened carefully to the wind and blowing grass to discern the sounds of additional enemies closing across the hilltop. At the end of his count he was certain that he was alone. There were no whispering ghosts lurking outside of the light, and the soldiers of his father’s talon were already weeks behind him.
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| − | After leading the Kagi soldiers to decimate the ranks of the dead outside the mining camp, Holvic had looked into the eyes of his friends and comrades. Fear, worship and abhorrence had shown separately on many faces while mingling freely on others. Holvic, the best of them, stood revealed as an Anathema or as the glorious apotheosis of the dead whom he struck down. Looking upon the Kagi soldiers, Holvic had seen that in his continued presence they would fall upon each other in violence.
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| − | And so he had led them out of the tributary lands of Thorns; away from the Mask of Winters invasion force. Once clear of the war zone, he had left them with a message for his father and family; then climbed into the nearest hills where he had fasted and gone through the kinetic meditations of the Sword Saint Forms.
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| − | Now, Holvic had a mission best suited for one unencumbered.
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| − | At present, he knew of no shadowlands nearby — of no overlaps between the lands of the living and dead in this region — and was genuinely surprised to have been attacked by war ghosts off the road leading to Great Forks. Had these been soldiers of Thorns’ new ruler? If not, he imagined that they must have been greatly astonished to have discovered that their intended victim was one of the Sun's Chosen.
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| − | Regardless, Holvic decided to depart quickly. His battle had cast displays of power that could be seen from far off at night, and the possibility of meeting another war band of the dead was not to be discounted. There were four hours left until dawn, and four hours of sleep forsaken would see him that much closer to his goal by the next time the sun set. Following omens seen in the lights of the sky and the flights of eagles, Holvic continued eastwards.
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| − | '''Elsewhere...'''
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| − | In the dark beneath Creation, a pale hand pressed against a pallid brow. The black Caste Mark concealed beneath the hand's palm had split open and now wept blood. Abnegation of Ebullience removed his hand and sat back in his high-backed chair of ash behind a writing desk of ebony. An open arch on the far side of his study revealed a view of the obsidian waters of the River Acheron, a mighty river that ran to a sea made up of all the tears the world had ever shed. The cold stars that glared down on the waters held nothing of the fates of the living — only the futures of the dead. Abnegation of Ebullience knew that a gifted servant of his master had divined the emergence of one of the hated Sun's Chosen by reading the skies of Creation. Acting on those omens, in accordance with his liege's wishes, Abnegation had dispatched bands of the sacred dead and packs of Hungry Ghosts to search for additional signs. The bond of power that had connected him to one of those bands had just been cut, signaling that five of his trusted sergeants had somehow come to their ends.
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| − | Abnegation sighed. Normally the Midnight Caste Abyssal would not have risked the sapient dead out in the realm of Creation. However, his lord had been specific in his orders and commanded that his priest’s best and darkest be among those dispatched with all haste. It was not Abnegation’s place to question his master’s wishes, but he sensed that his liege had learned of the Sun Child’s Exaltation somewhat late in the course of events, and that he was behind in the race to claim the vulnerable, newly Exalted Solar. His rival, the Mask of Winters, had his own dark Inquisitors roaming the hinterlands of his new dominion, looking for the Sun’s Chosen.
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| − | Desirous of acting correctly in the face of opportunity, Abnegation of Ebullience crossed the space of the room and knelt on the stone floor, facing the view of the River Acheron. Thus settled in a position of meditation, he prayed to his master's Neverborn patron for some sure sign of its intentions.
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| − | Next: [[/Twilight-2]]
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| − | Back to: [[/Dawn-2]]
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| − | Back to: [[Salt Lotus]]
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| − | ''This is a work of fan fiction set in White Wolf’s Exalted fantasy setting and is no way meant to challenge White Wolf’s copy rights or trademarks. The characters Joyous Gift, Mirror Flag, Ribbons of Sorrow, Shield of a Different Day, Spinner of Glorious Tales and Weaver of Dreams of Victory, as well as the city Great Forks are trademarked White Wolf Property.''
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