BountyOfTheSeas/VerdantSideStory
"This should be exciting, really. Don't look so sour, we have so much to talk about," says Verdant's predecessor.
Verdant replies, "What would I have to gain from talking to you?"
"Come now, do you really need me to spell it out for you? You know that I researched wondrous medicines. Think of all the diseases you'll be able to cure."
"Indeed. I also know the cost you foisted on others for that knowledge,"
"Pffft. Mortals."
Verdant growls, "People."
Predecessor says, "Oh, please. They're such mayfly creatures, even with my help they'd be lucky to see a century. What does a single mortal's lifespan mean in the face of science?"
The dark seas race by beneath the roaring winds of Verdant's magical chariot. Despite the noise of the chained storm, he can hear his predecessor's words as plain as day. And at those words, Verdant's temper snaps. "What do they matter? Heartless Monster!" Verdant attempts to punch his predecessor, only to have his fist effortlessly caught. The Stormwind Rider shudders and slows.
Predecessor says, "Tsk tsk tsk. You really need to keep your composure. And more importantly, keep your concentration on the matter at hand."
Verdant realizes the meaning of those mocking words as the magical storm slows to a halt and dissipates, unceremoniously dumping the young Twilight into the drink.
As his head angrily surfaces from beneath the waves, Verdant finds his predecessor standing on the surface of the water.
The vision's smug smile continues as oozes into his voice, "Just so you know, the red herbs in the pantry make a nice cure for a headache, such as the one you'll be having after doing that, when boiled in water with a bit of salt." Grinning, the vision turns and walks away towards Verdant's destination, fading away as he does so.
Verdant glares at the space the vision occupied. Even he knows enough about sorcery to know that such a violent disruption of a spell is going to have unpleasant repurcussions. His predecessor dangling a potential cure does nothing to help his mood.
Sighing and hoping that he can reach the Manse before the headache sets in, Verdant dives beneath the waves, the stone hidden beneath his sleeve enabling him to swim faster than he has any right to. Deciding he is deep enough, he swims skyward, Hearthstone-fueled pace gathering steam.
As he breaks the surface of the water and his momentum buys him travel into the waiting sky, Verdant's arms already move in concert, his tongue already chanting the needed words. As his momentum runs out and his travel pass expires, Verdant drops back towards the waiting waves.
Inches above the water Verdant's fall comes to a stop, as obedient winds whip the air around him into a storm that holds him aloft, and the new Stormwind Rider takes off under Verdant's control.
An unfortunate flying fish leaps from the waters just in time to be sucked up in the tiny maelstrom of Verdant's passing. It is whipped about in seemingly chaotic orbits until being forcibly ejected and plummeting back to the waves.
Later, Verdant pulls himself up out of the water into the entrance chamber of the Manse. Sitting on the lip of the entrance pool, Verdant clutches his pounding head.
Verdant says, "I just don't get it. I made the right choice. I chose to save the people of Velence over endangering them. Yet I'm the one who's now alone, with a splitting headache, and only the half-mad monster in my head for company."
Standing up and looking into the pool, Verdant continues, "If I made the right choice, how come I'm the one losing so much? Why doesn't he understand? Why won't he listen?"
The pool is silent, offering no answers.
With a sigh, Verdant turns around, only to draw up short, startled.
Before Verdant stands a four-armed figure in golden robes, face only a brightly shining blur.
"What? Do you want a parade for every little success?" the shining figure asks. "Do you want Creation to bow down and celebrate your making the right choice? You want instant gratification for 'making the right choice'?"
The Shining Figure steps forward and places one finger on Verdant's chest. "Are you truly so vain?"
And with that, the figure shoves Verdant with one finger. Verdant attempts to step back, only to be reminded that he is standing on the edge of the pool as he loses his balance. For one rather comical moment, Verdant's arms whirl as he attempts to avoid the inevitable. But gravity is not so easily denied, and with a splash, Verdant once again ends up in the water.
As surfaces, Verdant finds the figure is gone.
Pulling himself out of the water - again - Verdant feels exhaustion, frustration, and above all, the pain of a now-worsened headache.
Practically dragging himself into the pantry, Verdant feeds on the fruits growing from the plants there, occasionally rubbing his head with one hand.
The fruit is as juicy and delicious as Verdant remembered from his last stay here.
With the edge of hunger off, Verdant enjoys the remainder of the fruit he is eating. "Mmm... at least something's going my way."
As he fills his stomach, Verdant's eye is drawn to one corner of the pantry, where a small patch of herbs with bright red stems and leaves grows.
Another throb, and Verdant's hand flies to his aching head, and his gaze to the red herbs in the corner.
Verdant says, "No. I can't trust that monster. I can't use the knowledge he stole. Yes, stole, he made others pay the price for it, but claimed it as his own...oh, my head..."
At length, pain and the desire for a little relief win out. Taking a few stalks of the herbs, he proceeds to the kitchen, where in short order a small fire is boiling some fresh water, making a tea that Verdant regards apprehensively.
Verdant says, "Well, here goes..." Verdant holds up a cup of the vile-smelling brew. Pinching his nose, he downs the concoction in one pained gulp. Immediately Verdant's face contorts into that of man who has had to down some truly foul medicine. "Ugh. I hope it works...it sure tastes bad enough."
Verdant feels a prickling on the back of his neck... as if he is being watched by unseen eyes.
Grumbling, Verdant turns, half expecting to see his predecessor's smirk. When he does not, he looks around again, closely.
With the activation of the Sorceror's Sight, the first thing Verdant sees is the rioutous profusion of Essence-flows native to all Demesnes and Manses. Here, they are expertly harnessed, flowing in beautiful patterns of geomantic harmony. After resolving the essence-flows, however, an irregularity resolves itself: a tiny god, no more than three and a half feet tall, floating a foot or so above his kitchen's floor and staring at him wide-eyed.
Verdant's eyes narrow. "What are *you* doing here?"
The godling starts when he realizes Verdant is speaking to him. It begins gibbering in Old Realm in a squeaky voice: "Oh, Master, please be not angry! I do no harm to your lovely Essence-home! Vargo merely comes to admire and perhaps rest occasionally, away from Big Bads..."
The tiny god is mottled aquamarine and lavender, a tiny quasi-human shape with fins on elbows, back, and head, as well as webbed fingers and toes.
His shape and mannerisms place him as an assistant to the region's God of Unplumbed Depths.
Verdant says, "And what 'Big Bads' would make an assistant to a God of Unplumbed Depths visit a Man-made structure?"
Vargo says, "Oh! No, it is nothing, Master, please forget that Vargo spoke..."
Verdant says, "Vargo, I'm not having a good day. Are you trying to make it worse?"
The tiny god seems to be shaking with fear. "No no no no NO! Please, Master, Vargo will just... leave, now... and let Master enjoy his Essence-home! Yes?"
Verdant says, "Vargo, calm down."
Vargo hovers in place, quaking.
Another voice calls out from around the corner: "Vargo, who are you talkin- oh!" An identical godling hovers into view, staying in the kitchen's doorway with a shocked expression.
Verdant says, "Thrilling. So, what is your name?"
The new godling seems to recover more quickly than Vargo did, and with a tiny hint of pride and a puffed-out chest, it says "Embargo."
Verdant says, "Well, Embargo, what brings you here?"
Embargo floats over to join its- brother? Cousin? Clone? "'struth, Master, we did only find this Essence-home by accident! We thought to come and rest here, for such a nice Essence-home it is, and much safer than the open waters for those such as us."
Verdant ponders this for a moment. "Well, I don't think you're lying to me, and you're at least able to take some pride in your work. Is Vargo always this jittery?"
Embargo rests a calming hand on Vargo's shoulder. "Sorry, Master. We have not seen your kind in quite some time..."
"And your..." Embargo gulps. "Charm, does little to reassure."
Verdant says, "Ah, so you do recognize me. I should have suspected as much."
"Of course! Who else but a Copper Spider could have found this Essence-home, seen Vargo and I, survived the dangers of the waters...
Verdant chuckles and says, "Flattery, as they say, will get you everywhere. What dangers are you referring to?"
Vargo stutters to life. "Th-th-these waters are contested, by our Liege and another. The w-w-war has made the entire region unsafe."
Verdant raises an eyebrow. "I see. Come, let us sit. I would hear the full tale of it."
Shortly, Verdant and his unexpected guests sit in the parlor of the Manse.
The two godlings are squabbling - more at ease now, both compete for the chance to hold the Solar's attention.
Verdant endures their squabbling as best he can, the throbbing pain of his headache only getting worse. At length, he sighs, "Enough. Let me be frank with you."
Their words cut off immediately.
Verdant says, "I did not return here to arbitrate disputes between lords of realms that I have no experience and but passing interest in. I came here for peace and quiet, and a safe place to consider recent events. While I bear you no malice, your presence here indicates this place's defenses have grown lax. They must be repaired. Once that is done, I am afraid you will most likely not be able to return here."
Vargo and Embargo look at each other with an expression of some concern. "What if we were to help you, O Greatness? What if we could offer our aid?"
Verdant says, "This, unfortunately, isn't a matter open to my choice. The defenses must be repaired, and they are unfortunately not very discerning. Hmm...wait...there is one option, though I do not know if you will like it..."
Verdant speaks thoughtfully. "It is possible to key the defenses to you, so that they will not regard you as a threat, and let you pass safely... The problem of course, is the increased difficulty of making such a lapse in protection specific enough that it will not render that protection useless, but, I suspect that if I had some help, I could do it." Verdant looks pointedly at the two spirits as he says the word "help".
They nod vigorously as they talk. "Oh yes yes yes yes! We can help! You show, we do, yes!"
Verdant says, "Then we are in agreement, then." Verdant says, smiling warmly as he tries to ignore the pounding in his skull.
Eight days pass, as the three unlikely allies work to build a ward around the Manse. Verdant's headache eventually subsides with time, and a book in the library provides the knowledge Verdant needs to put the herbs in the pantry to use in the three's undertaking. Boiled with sea salt and dried in patterns until they harden and hold their shape, the herbal runes are treated so that they will hold their shapes once immersed again.
The runes are placed among the kelp outside, forming the physical component of the ward. Verdant, with the assistance of the two spirits, shapes the Essence of the ward and anchors it to the runes, forming a barrier. As he spends the motes, Verdant is somewhat nostalgic - the three motes would make this effort a major undertaking when he was mortal, but now they are like magical pocket change.
Verdant says, "You are welcome to stay here within these now much safer walls. All I ask is that you help maintain these protective barriers as I have shown you. As I have explained, it's not that much work now that they are made. In turn, you are welcome to stay here, though I do ask you be good, ah, roommates."
"Yes! Yes! Oh, thank you sir! It is our pleasure!" The tiny gods are jumping (floating, actually) up and down with joy.
Verdant chuckles as he walks to the library to put away the book on herbs. As he moves to do so, however, his eyes fall on a single illustration, and he stops. For several moments he stands, staring at the page.
Turning, Verdant returns to the pantry, leaving the book on the table.
Moments later, the Twilight walks back into the library with a leaf from one of the red herbs he had boiled for his headache. He lays the leaf on the open book. He stares at this composition for minutes more, like a man who has just had something he thought he knew refuted.
At length, he sits down in a chair to relax and to think, for he has much food for thought. On the table sits the book, leaf still matching the illustration that caught Verdant's eye.
Below that very detailed drawing, the Old Realm script details the plant in question, mentioning that, when boiled, it is quite effective against a cough or a cold, but at a cost.
The side effect, the book warns, is an unpleasant headache.
The hard work of the ward-building has taken its toll, and Verdant finds himself drawn into slumber.
Inside the cockpit, Verdant sighs even as he makes the necessary movements to keep the warstrider climbing. "Ruler, if you don't mind me asking...are you afraid? Do you feel fear?"
<confusion/lack of understanding?> The empathic response ripples through Verdant's mind.
Verdant chuckles. "In some ways I envy you. Nevermind."
The construct replies <danger/risk of non-being?>
Verdant says, "Something like that, I guess. I mean, on the one hand, this isn't the first god I've gone up against, but the first one buckled under one swipe of my staff, whereas Galla here took two punches from *you* and kept going."
How odd for you to feel that way.
"After all..."
Rounding a corner, Verdant slams his staff into the empty air. His staff seems to connect solidly with something in the air, but it obviously fails to have the desired effect.
Verdant turns around, then with a start slams his staff against a wall. A single spark of Essence leaks out, but Verdant seems clearly unhappy. "Damn."
"You certainly didn't give up after the first swing."
"Not after the second punch, either."
Verdant reels with the pain-echo caused by the god's assault. "Now there's a fine how-do-you-do...uh-oh, we've gotta move!"
Ruler's mighty fists slam earthward, sending rocks of varying size tumbling into the air. With the speed and precision no mundane machine could achieve, Ruler punches one of the larger rocks, sending it rocketing into Galla's now-exposed gut.
"Hardly the actions of some scared child, is it?"
Verdant says, "In a manner of speaking. Ruler, I don't think my friends are going to like this. But it has to be done, whether they like it, or not."
Essence travels down both arms, crackling menacingly as they disappear into the hazy red orbs by Verdant's hands. The titanic machine surges forward, coming out of its crouch with both arms raised, before slamming them down...
"You attacked to kill a god? Despite knowing that no less than three of your kind stood ready to possibly turn on you for that?"
"Irisa agreed with me."
"And the Lunar?"
There is no response.
"I thought so. You don't know her very well."
"I don't get it."
"Don't get what?"
"I was scared. Scared out of my mind. That I'd either die, or Port Valence would be destroyed. And if it was destroyed, then I feel it would been my fault. At least in part."
"And the only way to stop it...could easily have been suicide."
"But you did it. That was courageous."
"Courageous? COURAGEOUS? I was scared out my mind, panicked. How is that courage? I WAS SCARED!"
Verdant stands upon the peak of Galla's Volcano. Ruler of Cerulean Seas is nowhere in sight. What is in sight, however, is Galla's towering physical form. To Verdant's right, he can see Irisa trying to drag the unconscious Victorious Diamond out of a crevice.
GALLA says, "Then KNOW FEAR!"
A massive boulder-hand rumbles towards the distracted Irisa.
Verdant shouts, but Irisa does not hear.
The shadow of Galla's fist nears Irisa, the fist itself not far behind.
Verdant's body tilts, the beginnings of breaking into a run. But no man could possibly reach Irisa in time.
Verdant, however, is not just a man. He is a Copper Spider, Arrow of Heaven, Chosen of the Unconquered Sun.
Verdant's form barely moves, but another shadow appears over Irisa. She turns, surprised, to see the massive fist of Galla too close to do anything.
The fist stops as it connects to a solid object. The shadow on Irisa rockets across the rocky ground.
Where it lands, Verdant appears, burns evident on his form, bellowing an agonized cry of pain.
GALLA says, "USELESS. You are NOTHING without being able to HIDE in the metal titan. Nothing when you have to risk YOURSELF.
"Do you know what courage is, Wyld Warder?"
Galla massive hand reaches out towards the panicking Irisa.
Unable to move without dropping Diamond, Irisa braces herself, turning away from the volcano god.
GALLA says, "You cannot protect anyone, WEAKLING. Not even those whom you care about. Not without a CRUTCH."
GALLA says, "Urk!"
Irisa turns, to find the god entangled in vines.
Verdant stands, leaning heavily on his staff. His right eye is swollen shut, and there are distressingly large burns on his arms and legs. But he stands.
Verdant says, "I am Verdant Waves."
Verdant stands further upright, shifting his weight from his staff to his feet.
"Copper Spider," says Verdant, now holding the staff to one side with one hand.
"Arrow of Heaven," he intones, letting the staff drop.
Verdant says, "Chosen of the Unconquered Sun."
Verdant's burned hands raise up, and he holds them out in front of him. Between them a black orb forms.
Verdant says, "Remember that when you piece yourself back together, you stuck-up volcano spirit."
The orb shatters, sending the Obsidian Butterflies slicing through the magma of Galla's godly form.
Lifeless rocks tumble out of the god's cooling corpse.
Verdant stumbles, falling over backwards.
Verdant lands in a comfortable chair, its cushions made from the finest silk, the armrests made of the material his heart recognizes as orihalcum. All around him is blackness, the chair and himself are the only things visible.
The burns on his skin are gone, his right eye restored to normal.
"Did you feel fear then?"
"Of course I did. What...what are you trying to do?"
"You felt fear? But you acted selflessly anyway, putting yourself in harm's way to save another. Why?"
"I...I am...Twilight Caste. I figured I could take the impact better than she could..."
"So there was something more important than fear?"
"What do you mean?"
"How much courage does it to step outside your house?"
"What? I step outside my house every day. There's nothing courageous about it."
"How much courage does it take to interpose yourself in the path of a god's fist?"
"A heck of a lot, I guess...wait..."
Moments pass, as Verdant's face is puzzled. Finally, he speaks again.
"Are you saying fear defines courage?"
The sound of a single pair of hands slowly clapping is heard. Out of the void around Verdant steps the four-armed, golden-robed shining figure.
"Yes. Of course. Now do you see?" asks the figure.
Verdant says, "So if fear defines courage, you can't be courageous...unless you're afraid?"
The figure replies, "Courage isn't the absence of fear. It is the strength to feel fear, to be afraid, and yet do what must be done anyway. It is the strength to face a god in battle to save a city, though you may fear for your life and the lives of those you care about. Do not be afraid of fear. Show me a man with no fears, and I shall show you a fool. But do not let your fears master you. Master them. Accept them as the warnings they are, but do not let them get in the way of what must be done."
The figure says, "I am pleased with you."
Verdant's eyes flutter open, and he looks around as he wakes in the chair in the Manse's library.
Embargo says, "Master? Master, are you ill?"
Verdant says, "Mmm? No, Embargo, I'm fine. Just a...strange dream."
"Would Master like some tea?"
"No need to call me Master, but I would like some tea." Verdant chuckles as he reshelves the book on herbs. "Just don't use the red herb leaves, whatever you do."
Verdant sits, cross-legged in the pantry of the Manse. He's found it useful as a quiet room to meditate, as neither Vargo nor Embargo need to eat. Besides, the surrounding plants make for tranquil scenery.
Verdant glows softly, his Caste Mark blazing on his forehead, as he gathers in Essence and forces it out through his anima, forcing it to light the room. It is a combination of two Essence excercises: one of harnessing and using Essence, and another for precision, as he tries to keep the glow of his anima perfectly constant.
At length, his concentration is broken by rustling near the red herbs in the corner. The faint, elegant rustling of a cloth finer than can be found in the Age of Sorrows.
Verdant does not bother to turn, but keeps his eyes closed. A slight irritation shows on his face as the expected voice is heard. "Told you those herbs would help with your headache."
Still with his back to the herbs, Verdant replies, "Help make it worse, you mean. I read what those herbs are really for."
The voice of Verdant's predecessor speaks rather quickly. "Ah, well, at least it made you read the bloody book. At least you started taking a half-baked interest in all the work I've done."
Verdant's eyes snap open. One eyebrow raises suspiciously, the other lowers in agitation. Something feels out of place, but Verdant can't identify what, and it annoys him.
Footsteps report the vision's movement from the corner to stand in front of Verdant. "I mean, really. Whatever your objections are to my methods, what's done is done. Are you going to forego the benefits of my efficiency?"
Verdant says, "I would call your methodology cruel, not efficient."
The vision waves a hand dismissively. "And as I said, your objections to my methodology are several centuries too late to be relevant."
The vision leans closer, smirking. "Or are you going to keep studying that occult sorcery, knowing that it distances you even from others of your kind. Or have you already forgotten how your erstwhile traveling companions reacted at Lao's?"
Callidora pulls the arrow out of her, wincing furiously. She stands up and starts to stalk around the corner. "Whoever shot that at me is going to.....oh." Callidora looks at Verdant, impressed and a tad frightened.
Zeleny nods. He had never seen such- instant devastation. Such total devastation. Before such powers....men were mere rag dolls to be torn apart.
Verdant says, "No, I have not."
The vision stands up again, speaking mockingly, "I wonder if dear Irisa would still be warm to you if she had seen that. If she had seen the devastation, the pain, the DEATH you are capable of."
The continual drumming of gently-falling raindrops on rooftops forms a symphony of muted drumming.
Verdant says, "Irisa...do you think I did the right thing?"
Irisa replies, "You know I do. Galla was less potent in direct confrontation than I had feared, but his threat was not ended until you delivered the killing blow."
Verdant looks the vision in the eye. "No, she would understand." He chuckles, "she is a businesswoman. She understands that sometimes the necessary road is a hard one."
"Perhaps. But she is Eclipse, we are of the Twilight. We are the keepers of lore that others would rather not know, the seekers of forbidden lore, the masters of the incomprehensible. How long do you think anyone can keep up with what uncomfortable truths you are capable of?"
"She can keep up, as long as I can."
The vision turns to walk out the door. "Then I guess you're either naive or a really bad sorcerer." The vision pauses at the door. "A pity you didn't let the Dawn come along, she's rather easy on the eyes."
"And you were just saying Irisa couldn't keep up."
"Still nursing that daydream of someone to grow old with? Bah. Find a nice, decorative mortal. Sorcerers can't be understood by anyone else." With that, the vision steps out the door, vanishing from Verdant's sight.
Previously, Verdant might have been angry, been glaring at the space the vision occupied, or as far as he was concerned, fouled. But this time is different, there is a different expression on Verdant's face.
It is the expression of a man who has been given a key, but not told which lock it opens, or where the lock may be -- or is it that of a man who has been given a locked box without any clue where to find the key?
At length, Verdant returns to his meditations, more thoughts on his mind.
Time marches onward, Creation moving down the road that cannot be unwalked once traveled.
Verdant walks through the Manse, heading towards the entrance pool. As he walks, he murmurs, "This place...it's important to me. I guess in a sense it's my second birthplace, the place where I truly became an Exalt."
Walking past the chairs and tables of the lounge, Verdant continues, "Oh, I Exalted elsewhere, but that island has been gobbled up by the Wyld now. And I don't know where I drifted on my boat. Or, come to think of it, how I got here."
Reaching the entrance pool, Verdant stops, gazing into its waters. "But here's where it began. Here's where I truly found my new lease on life and what it means to be Chosen."
Sitting down cross-legged, Verdant closes his eyes in meditation. "And here...is where this chapter ends."
Within moments, Verdant's breathing is regular, as he focuses his will into where he journeys.
In the space within his mind, Verdant walks down a hall. To either side are heartbreaking examples of cruelty: mortals hooked up to one painful apparatus or another. Some beg Verdant for aid, some can only moan incoherently, others only weep, all hope lost.
Verdant reaches the end of the hallway, finding a pristine desk, meticulously organized. Seated at it, facing away, is his predecessor, who turns around to face Verdant as he approaches.
"Well, well, well. At least you *deign* to visit me in my humble abode." A chuckle. "What desperation brings you here? Clueless and afraid to do anything again?"
The corner of Verdant's mouth tugs upward in the beginnings of a smirk. "Actually, I just came here to ask you a question."
The vision shifts, its expression that of a bemused but bored man. "Oh? And what is your question?"
Verdant asks, "How do you set a broken bone?"
The vision's bored expression turns to shock, then to surprise, then slowly to anger. "Wha-wha...what? You would waste MY time on such a trivial question?"
Verdant speaks with the tone of an adult talking to an obstinate child. "And you would waste both our time on evading such a trivial question?"
The vision stands, face a mask of rage. "What foolishness is this? You claim to be able to read, an activity I tried to encourage in your meager mind with the herbs, but now you come to me, asking for such knowledge that could be had for a moment's search in texts I took such care to write?"
Verdant's mouth curls into a full smirk. "Humor me."
Predecessor says, "Humor THIS, you ungrateful little wretch!" Grabbing his own staff, a mirror to Verdant's own, but without the seals that mar the surface of the real Glory's Halo. The weapon moves at speeds beyond those the human eye can track, seeking to take Verdant's head clean off his shoulders...
...and then there is a sound like the chiming of a tiny, finely made bell. The mask of rage vanishes from the predecessor's face, replaced by pure shock.
Verdant stands, calm as when he walked into this hallway, still smirking. His left hand is raised, with only his pinky finger extended...directly into the path of the vision's deadly staff, which seems to be impossibly blocked by that lone digit.
Verdant says, "I thought so. You don't know, do you?"
The vision sputters in rage. "Fool...FOOL! I know everything you know, and more! I WROTE the books you learned from!"
Verdant shakes his head. "No, you didn't. My predecessor did. The one who once was host to the Sun-spark that now Exalts me."
"I am your predecessor, you litt-"
"No, you are not. You are only his monstrous side. Everything I feared becoming. I was so afraid of it...that I unknowingly made you."
"Well, then, 'Maker'...did you understand THIS?" And with that, the vision flips the staff around Verdant's blocking finger, slamming Verdant to the floor, the staff pressing against his throat.
Verdant seems only mildly discomfited, and does not stop smiling.
"I am your senior, not your creation. Otherwise how could I best you when you are so smugly assured you cannot be bested?"
Verdant chuckles. "Oh, because I thought it more important to concentrate elsewhere. This is my head, figment. Think about it."
The vision snarls in rage. "Enough of your addled prattle! I'll crush the breath out of-" Whatever threat the vision would have made is lost as his chair is broken over his head.
The mortals that Verdant had passed as he entered are now whole, free of their pain and their shackles...and obviously very aware of who is to blame for their suffering, and very willing to even the score.
Verdant's "predecessor" reels from the blow to his head, bellowing, "Cattle! I'll show you how pathetic you truly are!" Swirls of mystic runes leap into being around his body, as he begins to chant.
Verdant looks at the vision calmly. With a tone of finality he speaks. "No."
With that word, the spell and anima of the "predecessor" simply wink out.
Bellowing curses in rage, the vision is swarmed under by the mortals it tormented, agonized, harmed. Slowly the desk, hallway, and even the mortals fade away into blackness, leaving only Verdant as he stands up, and the battered form of his "predecessor".
The broken vision asks weakly, "How?"
"I told you. You're just a bogeyman I conjured up. Something to scare me into the right path. But it worked too well. I was scared of doing anything for fear of you."
Verdant looks around him, smiling, "But now, I understand. I still fear becoming you, but I cannot let fear control me. I have to press on, and do the best I can."
The battered vision gasps out, "Then...you'll fail...you'll slowly become like me..."
Verdant shrugs. "That's a risk I have to take. To do nothing to protect this world, to fix is world, is to fail in my duties. I can't do that."
"What...happens next, then? What's going...to happen...to m-me?"
Verdant says, "Like all fears, you will just vanish, when the need has passed."
There is a pause as both say nothing.
Finally, the vision speaks, in a small voice: "I...I'm afraid..."
Verdant leans over, whispering slowly, almost menacingly. "I know."
And the predecessor's body fades into nothingness.
Meanwhile, in the entrance room of the Manse, Verdant's anima has been growing brighter and brighter, and now, at last, the swirling equations of his banner can be seen.
Within Verdant's head, there is the sound of applause. Verdant doesn't have to turn to know that the shining, gold-clad figure has appeared behind him.
Meanwhile, the equations begin to distort, to change, to alter themselves. But they alter themselves not to any random pattern of chaos, but to an ordered pattern that begins to emerge...
"Well done. Well done, Arrow of Heaven. Well done, Solar Lightning."
...the equations are all solving themselves for a single variable, for that most basic building-block of Creation...
"Well done, Copper Spider. Well done, my Cho-"
Verdant interrupts. "I appreciate your compliments, and I do appreciate them."
Verdant turns around. "But I'm not *your* chosen."
...Essence. It is said that Creation itself was made from flows of Essence, organized and placed into set tracks by Those Who Came Before...
"So, you have figured that out as well. You have come far." The glow around the Shining Figure's face fades, revealing a copy of Verdant's own face on the gold-clad figure. "So, what am I then?"
...and Verdant knows this is how Sorcery is so powerful, compared to using Essence for Charms. The power of sorcery lies not in the motes the sorcerer spends, oh no, those are just used to grab the flows within Creation and to alter them, radically...
Verdant sweeps his arm to indicate where the predecessor faded away, "Where that former figment was everything I hated and feared, you are everything about my predecessor I admired. You are the doctor trying to save and improve lives, no matter the cost to himself. And perhaps the monster won out in the end, but the hero never truly died. Even in the depths of his madness, he still created great works, great improvements. All that went wrong was that he lost sight of the cost, that the prices he paid were too high for the progress he acquired with them."
"Well done, then, my creator. Now what? What will happen to me?"
...which creates the spell's effect. This is why sorcery is so difficult, why one must pass the Five Unavoidable Challenges to become a sorcer, because it takes so much to alter such massive flows properly. And the last equation in Verdant's anima is solved for Essence, all of them floating away from Verdant's body...
Verdant says, "I destroyed the monster that my predecessor became. But what he aspired to be, what I aspire to be, the heroic dream...that I cannot cast away."
The heroic vision tilts its head to one side. "Do you know what you're getting yourself into? This fallen Age is no place for those with noble intentions. There is no justice in this world aside from what a man makes for himself. There is no justice inherent to it."
Verdant shrugs. "I know there is no justice in this world. I've been with Captain Impulsive, remember? And however I dislike his methods, I still understand what drives him. I just wish he'd see that his plan won't work. He thinks can just "fix" everything and move on. I know it's not that easy. I know that justice must be maintained for all or it will just shatter again."
...the equations float behind Verdant, all of the essence-symbols clustering near his back...
Verdant says, "I don't know how to do this. I don't know where to begin. I don't know what the future holds. But I know HOW I'm going to begin. I'm going to begin by DOING something, instead of just coasting along waiting for instructions to be dropped on my lap."
Verdant stretches his arms out towards the heroic vision. "Come, dream of a hero. Come, and let us join together, and face the long path ahead as one."
The vision pauses a moment. "Going to get a lot more roomy and lonely in here, with just yourself left."
Verdant grins. "All the more room to think, and to plan. Can't go in with a half-baked plan, y'know?"
Laughing, the Heroic Self bursts into golden light, streams of it striking Verdant in the chest...
...and the essence-symbols of Verdant's anima dart into his back, bloodlessly, though Verdant stiffens, perhaps from what he sees in his mind's eye, or perhaps not...
...the streams of light pour into Verdant, and he laughs in an echo of the heroic vision.
Verdant opens his eyes, and stands up.
The equations stay stuck to his back, and now they unfurl, the lines of their mathematical formulae coagulating into two large wings that spread from Verdant's back and to either side.
Verdant says, "And so a new chapter begins."
