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 Posted: Sun Feb 26, 2017 10:02 am
 "Mt. Shaeila has long been dead, or so the people of Epsilon belive. It has never erupted before and it has shown no sign of life, it was thought to be safe, thought to be a right of passage for young Ethen boys to fly down into the Volcano and explore its many tunnels, tunnels thought to travel all across Epsilon. Mt. Shaeila is a very large Stratovolcano, scraping the sky at 19,685 feet, The top 3,000 feet are covered smooth obsidian with a small narrow staircase having been carved out of the obsidian, while the rest of the 16,685 feet of the volcano is rough climbing. When you climb to the side of the Volcano stable ground can be found only if you fly down 5,000 feet, but from the edge of the Volcano you can see what is inside. A strange unmovable ruin of a city carved entirely out of Obsidian sits in the Caldera, in its center a large temple the size of many castles today also carved from the obsidian that formed within the Volcano. You can enter the Volcanic tunnels though the obsidian temple. The Mountain has been dormant for over 4201 years, recently the goddess Agni has been released from below the tunnels.
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Posted: Sun Feb 26, 2017 2:26 pm
✺Forgotten Son (I don't know if you want me to quote you, so I'm sorry if you didn't want that.) (current) EC: 0 Last night had ended reasonably well for the count; he'd almost forgotten what a chore social events could be for people in his strata; but, nevertheless, he left the night with a certain wanting just as those on stage in that tour de force--as it was forcefully called by those in the Zalto and Empirical peerages, the pedantic lot--left the crowd at the festival wanting another curtain call. Some were yelling for an encore, but they fell to the blank sound of applause.
For a moment, upon waking that day, he wondered what might have happened to those heavenly bodies that illuminated the night. They gave it a form, you know; Dixon remembered where he was sitting only because it was dabbed iridescent in green reflections; he knew there was a dance only by the scent of a dragon princess which clung tight to his skin like the fuzzy light above the streets in the hot summer rain.
After pecking his way out of the sheets he was down the stairs as though he'd fallen--typical morning. Breakfast was nice: just enough protein to snap him out of whatever stupor he burrowed into; and of course it wouldn't do to have something almost ruined--I assure you the milk was fine. To save himself from silence the count had waved in some of the help to read for him a few of the writings published by one Alistair Drosselmyer. Anything they could find: copies of letters (that weren't private, of course), pamphlets; the limited intelligence of the count and his people were just good enough to bring him a better picture of who it was it accidentally offended last night--potentially, the stoicism was still there in person, after all.
════════════════════════════════════════════════════════Esther was an interesting one as well, but he decided it best to get on with the day's tasks. Remember, this was the count of the people; he hadn't time to sit at home writing letters and having journals read to him, else how could he expect to get any real work done?
At lunch he had taken tea with some of the men. They were the same bulls who were working with him to build the new road leading out of his county; the intent being to side down by the delta and diffuse out along the border, which of course required lots of sweat. A portraitist was hired for the day, making sure to catch Dixon and the boys splitting rails with perfect clarity and hierarchy. Beautiful souls, all of them--especially the orphaned lad from the south.
And, following tradition, the count took to the air to reset himself for the second wave of work. People didn't really seem to mind his extra little rests; some had even taken to it themselves, coming back with double force. In the air he heard the curious cry that everyone else had.
It took him a minute to pin it down, but the count had eventually concluded the sound was coming from around the old mountain. They had meant to mine that, too, seeing it had been dormant for quite some time, but hadn't quite gotten to it yet. And, seeing as it was on his land, Dixon saw it as his work to investigate this.
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Inside was an absolute marvel. Dixon had never actually been inside, but believe you me the accounts of those who had failed immeasurably--not saying anything about their abilities as writers; the pillars, the structure, the pristine silence in the glassy rock were now where the heart of the count dwelt. He planted himself firmly in this place, and as he moved he felt a stinging pull; and this was offset by an equally painful melting feeling he had as the voice drew up on the walls and threatened to swallow him up. He could feel it: today there was something to be done which would be pivotal to those who hadn't the slightest for the supernatural--himself included.
"... Hello?"
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Posted: Sun Feb 26, 2017 5:15 pm
"The crying would continue in the ears of all those with Ethen blood, and as Count Dixon would travel to Mt. Shaeila he would be blinded for a moment by the red smoke, luckily it was only a mere curtain for as soon as he would fly though to the Obsidian City in the Caldera, no longer would he be blind.
The Crying would be louder in the Caldera, echoing off the sides of the mountain and rebounding toward the city. It sounded like cries of fear, and when Dixon called Steam would erupt in front of the Count but luckily it wouldn't scathe him as it curled around in the air, the steam temporarily becoming curved and buxom and woman like in shape as it reached out and touched the count, the steam leaving a searing handprint upon him before the steam that touched him evaporated "come" a voice would echo in the Caldera just as another vent of steam broke though the ground, followed by another and another, leading him into the temple and down into the tunnels.
The steam would occasionally let out another puff as it would lead him farther into the tunnels until it came to a wall, ornately carved in the shape of the Fire Goddess. The steam would fly forward, entering up though the carvings nostrils. Its star ruby eyes would glimmer for a moment before suddenly the carvings chest would rise, its mouth parting as it began to breath and take on color. Each breath bringing more color into the Obsidian carving, the stone melting away and being replaced by peach flesh and red hair, and within minutes the carving had become a breathing body held to the wall of the tunnel by chains made of obsidian wrapped around her ankles and wrists "Child of Ethe, why does my land cry?" the former carving managed to speak, its voice soft as if it was trying to remember how to use it."
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Posted: Sun Feb 26, 2017 6:54 pm
✺Forgotten Son EC: 0 Just what had he gotten himself into! The count was ready for a certain amount of adventure today, but this was admittedly a bit much; each step jostled the burning in his face up to the surface of his mind. Though he would have liked to have explored more in better circumstances, the phoenix with as much curiosity as empathy followed the voice he had been hearing until...
"My God..." The count stare slack-jawed at the goddess for a moment, feeling a weakening in the knees as a feeling inexplicable as it was powerful and true clawed at his tendons so to pull down into the hot waters of death in this cyclopic city of volcanic glass. His hand trembled, forgetting its way to his hair. He swallowed hard to suppress any scream which might erupt from him and shatter the thinly stretched air of civility between them.
"I... Er..." Needless to say, any man would find words a difficult thing right about now. It reminded him of the first time he saw a woman nude; there was a certain coldness in the center of his back now, and he could not remember if he'd actually woken up this morning at all; this woman, being so divine in her beauty, threatened to steal the count's essence and lock him away in a hot, dense, twinkle in her eye. He bowed.
"Your land is hurting; its people cannot stand to call themselves Ethen anymore. They go about their business as anyone from the other nations might..." Dixon couldn't fully grasp what he himself was saying. It was as if the words were being pulled through him by the cosmos, simply because they needed a voice. At this point the count began to weep bitterly, silently; in an invisible illusion he was crushing the very ground beneath him, and his wings spouted from his aura, now a sad, sad cobalt.
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Posted: Sun Feb 26, 2017 7:54 pm
Alistair Drosselmeyerstarting ec:1000 Alistair spent the day and the night in the air. he had not used his phoenix form in a long time. he had forgotten its power, how light he felt. he let out a cry of pain every so often. why did he feel this? he was sad definitely, and very lonely indeed, but why had seeing Evelyn and his sister flirting effected him so strongly?
he let himself fly while letting such thoughts occupy his mind. and before he knew it the sun had risen yet again. and he once more found himself in the skies of Ethe.
he breathed in its air and claimed as high as he dared. that's when it hit him. a cry one that resonated deep within him stirred him to action. he let his six crimson wings propel him forward. suddenly like a man possessed by a mission he made his body a bullet and he sliced trough the air. his body moving at reckless speeds.
Red that's all he saw as jets of steams tried to touch the high flying prince of the empire. yet he dared to get closer. he dared to fall like a star from the skies. a cry of sadness of anger rang out alongside his own. his heart that seemed to ache beat even faster in his chest. he saw a shape enter the volcano but that was beyond his travel. he travel in. into the volcano itself his wings slowing him down enough to let him barell into another tunnel. the half breeds wings almost seeming like fire as his body kept itself in the air traveling along the tunnel until he came upon a wall. and there he saw her his heart finally stopped aching. he felt sure of himself. in his dragon form he could barely fit in the tunnel. he looked around noticing someone else as he slowly walked closer.
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Posted: Mon Feb 27, 2017 7:45 am
"The Goddess looked at Dixon for a moment "Do they not know the gift that fire brings any longer?" The goddess spoke, exhaling a breath made of steam from her lungs as she looked down at Dixon from where she was chained "Do not be sad, Child of Ethe, everything has a purpose. From the fire and ashes to my being and you finding. It is all a matter of finding out why" The goddess whispered as she inhaled, a rumbling starting though the mountain until she released another breath.
The Goddesses eyes of Star Rubies moved to the dragon behind Dixon and held upon the large form of the dragon "The land cries, those whom are the true children of Ethe hear it, the people are the land and with the peoples return the land shall heal." The goddess twisted her wrists within the chains pushing her ankles out from the wall until with a gush of steam the chains broke away but still she remained stuck to the wall. The goddess turned her head full of red hair in order to look behind her for a moment before she placed her hands upon the shoulders of the Count. His shoulders would begin to get wet from the steam her hands let off.
The goddess moved her feet forward and leaned away from the wall, as if she was trying to break one last bind. The Sickening sound of ripping flesh, snapping tendons and breaking bones would fill the air, every few seconds a snap would echo though the tunnels as the Goddess pulled herself from the wall. White feathers would fall from behind her, stained red with blood. One last break and the goddess finally took another step away from the wall, this time free. A few hollow bones and white feathers would be peaking out from the wall as if wings had been imbedded within the obsidian. The goddess would turn back to look once more at the Dragon "I see dragons are now in Ethe, are they Invaders or do they hear the land as well?" the goddess said as she folded her hands in front of her, gold beginning to form on her body in an archaic long forgotten fashion.
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Posted: Mon Feb 27, 2017 8:13 am
Alistair Drosselmeyerstarting ec:1000 Alistair looked down and noticed that the count was there. he listened to the words spoken and frowned. he did not flinch as he heard the sound of bones snapping it was a noise he had gotten rather used to. tho that this being was alive, and chained in a volcano and chained, her very way of getting out f the wall told him who he might be dealing with. he remembered reading about the etheian gods in his time in ethe. " I am not dragon." his voice echoed and rebeverted in the cave. it was a deep throaty voice that escaped his lips instead of his regular voice. he let his wings unfurl letting feathers fall from them as proof. " i am half dragon half pheonix, Goddess agni."
he spoke with respect but curiosity in his voice. a god had decended. he wondered why this would happen. and just why Ethe seemed to be in such dire straits.
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Posted: Mon Feb 27, 2017 6:17 pm
✺Forgotten Son(Sorry~ Minor change in formatting) EC: 0 At this point he wasn’t aware of anything; yet he did see everything around him from the blind eyes of touch, hearing--perhaps the curious sense that some call number six… Too focused on processing this doom, the count was registering these as an animal might; for a moment he had become wild, a caged bronco bucking at the sky from window four-by-eight; that version of him left the volcano at the first shake, but the lord of Titanus was still.
He raised his eyes at the touch of the goddess; thrown wide-eyed and tense for a moment, as though he were a scolded boy. Then he started to feel it. Before he could respond to her sentiments about his being there in front of her, the goddess of volcanic glass turned flesh started to peel herself away from the wall to which she was bound, rending her seemingly mortal form in the process; she used Dixon’s strength to steady herself as she did (sorry if I misinterpreted sweatdrop ).
“No, wait!” Protested the count grabbing hold of the peachy-skinned woman; he supported her with strong palms softly cradling her elbows as he watched her tear herself apart. The feathers began to fly...
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One of them made contact with the count. It sent him on the ride of a lifetime: countless lifetimes of toils and joys flooded together with mutual sovereignty so that for a moment the phoenix, called ‘Child of Ethe,’ was without a mind. His eyes were overtaken by a bright, silver fire, and his aura began to swirl slowly around him. He fell to the ground; the desert of his mind was hot and cold at once; he felt himself wander for days at a time, following the stars, pulled by his heart; he came to a temple where a man was arguing with another and a third man, who shined like the moon in the summer, was meditating.
--He was called a blasphemer. They were the heretics. They killed him; he awoke again and again, just as the sands have life when they are moved by a crab feeding. These lives were so alien to him that he couldn’t rightfully call them his, but there was still a closeness… A familiarity.
“... You,” he uttered with a charred voice as he began to rise up again. “I remember.” He was standing before the goddess now, flames churning a deep deep violet. “I remember the day you were born… Agni.” He turned to the hybrid for a brief moment before looking back to Agni.
“My people have grown cold; we have let the fire burn unclean fuel.” He took a step toward her, looking into her eyes as a lover now. “Let me do what I was born to do.”
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Posted: Wed Mar 01, 2017 11:52 pm
The goddess looked at Alistair as her attention was momentarily displaced. She would take a few steps toward him "When I moved across this world as nothing but steam in the morning and a glittering star at night my people did not know what a Dragon was. When I moved across the land with my own two feet and when the wings I carried where not bound in black stone, when I could dance within the flame to the sound of my children's voices those with wings such as yours bowed before those with wings such as mine. How times have changed since then." The goddess would turn around and move back so she was standing in front of Dixon "When I stood amongst my people long before the children of Ethe where children of Ethe, you demons owed us your lives, but it does make me wonder. Which blood calls you more, Both bloods carry fire, both carry pain. But while one cries the other screams, both bloods burn, but what one do you feel more?" The Goddess asked
Looking back at Dixon the goddess placed a hand upon his left, bringing it up to chest height "I see your past. Many of them. Dieing young, Dieing old. Servants, Nobles, Farmers. You come from a long line of loyalty and faith." The Goddess closed her eyes and took in a deep breath "you do not see how far back it goes, the fire creates a wall that you can not cross, but all your life you have been faithful...all the way back to when the Children of Ethe had wings of White and ruled this land in the light without fear, without objection, without subjugation, without having to drink the muddied waters of the streets." Agni looked up at the roof of the tunnel "You remember the day I was first found, not the day I was born. You remember the day that the fire was released once more...By then wings had turned red and truth had been buried by a vengeful hate... But that day the people released me Ethe began, and when I vanished Ethe began to fall...but no longer. Child of Ethe, you have found me and you have released me. Already you have begun to do what you have been born to do. And now that I am back Fire will burn clean once more, Both in the hearth and in the blood of those faithful, and that which had been the cause of the peoples suffering... for turning them away from me and the fire which kept them safe shall be punished." The Goddess stared into Dixon's eyes "What is it that you where born to do?" she asked him before trailing her eyes over to Alistair "What is it that you where born to do?"
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Posted: Thu Mar 02, 2017 6:46 am
Alistair Drosselmeyerstarting ec:1000 Alistair felt his body change. the magical change back into his human form. he felt the lost of his wings of his sight and senses. of the power that came from the other form. still dressed in the attire he had when he was in the festival. he had bags under his eyes. he looked tired and exhausted.
the words of booth the goddesss and the count had left his mind swimming in mystery. he now stood next to Dixon. he wondered what the man thought his mission in life was. he did not let his eyes leave the goddess. what is it that he was born to do?
he held one of the feathers that seemed to have activated the vision that Dixon clearly had. yet he felt nothing. the tingling sensation of life was not in the feather. he stared at it. " a lot of what you say make no sense based on what we know." he starred back at the goddess. his hands in fist. " I was born. that is all I know."
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Posted: Thu Mar 02, 2017 9:09 am
✺Forgotten Son EC: 0 It happened again; the goddess of his people since time uncounted touched him again. He, this mortal man, was graced with the heavenly brush of the goddess' semi-etherial flesh. His mind did not exist; he was, in a word, stupefied, and followed her hand dumbly down to his chest, reaching in reflex to place his hand over hers. He drew back, coming to the realisation that he was in--was he in danger? A dream? His heart clutched hard at the front of his spine, and the white which had befell him with the gift of pure ecstasy a moment ago now incinerated his core.
All he could do was take a step back and breathe deeply, wheezing a little; having not the mental or physical strength to bear all that had bombarded him at once, it had become clear to see the count's mortal self was being peeled away aggressively by the goddess, who was apparently aiming for his core. The new information made it seem as though he couldn't go on; and indeed it was much more difficult to endure now that his visions were being thrown into question--to some degree--by the one responsible for them in the first place.
Though he wouldn't fight it. Obviously, he was at a loss; and ever being the sensational type, was bound by the strength of this feeling to obey the goddess. If she wanted an answer, he would indulge her, for doing so, he hoped, would prompt Agni to give him the true answers.
"I... I am born to bring glory to my name; we are House Titanus, and we served you always..." He glanced over to Alistair, a tear welling in the edge of his eye. "My people, they are no more pure to your blood than this man: he is a phoenix with the blood of a dragon; I am only half of a phoenix."
"Please, give me your light! The blood is too thin; even if my line is pure, how will I rebuild a nation to have all white wings as you deserve? What oil should I burn so that the flames of Ethe burn bright and un-muddied again?" His aura had turned a dark blue now, spots of black throughout the rippling. He stood looking at his god for answers, and felt his heart sink as the hybrid prince touched a feather.
"No..." He whispered, voice now weak and scratched, "Please... We have our sacred place." It looked like he couldn't go. The count resigned himself to turning and taking steps away from the two of them, ashamed for Alistair and for his people and for his ancestors.
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Posted: Thu Mar 02, 2017 2:12 pm
"Having white wings once more is not possible. A very long time ago the phoenix made a grave offence to the highest god of all" The Goddess moved down onto her knees and ran her hands over the ground, picking up the dirt and obsidian and opening her hands to show the dirt on her palms "An offence so horrible that the Greatest God of all chose to punish the Phoenix for all time. Why the Children of Ethe no longer have white wings is on my shoulders as long ago you where my warriors and my guards, The Titanus family my closes confidants. When I vanished what other choice did the Children of Ethe have but to follow the Mistress of Glass. But Wings of White or Wings of Fire the children of Ethe are still my charge, not just your family but all the families of this land that call themselves Children of Ethe. And they will be saved" Agni dug her fingers into the dirt and pulled out a blue stone that seemed to be slowly pulsing.
The goddess looked at Alistair "For you. To find your way, and to know what path you must take" The Goddess said, giving him the blue stone before looking back at Titanus "and you, Child of Ethe" she said as she moved in front of him "My Blessing" she said as she placed a hand on his head "A bless for you and all your family for all time. Already you have glory in your name, and it wont be long until that glory is unlocked. As goddess it is my duty to help my people. It is true you care for them too, so do what you have been doing, lessen their suffering, and when time comes I will call on you.... As of now I must go see this world and find the source of my peoples suffering" she said before she turned to steam and vanished, floating upward though tiny holes in the tunnels.
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Posted: Thu Mar 02, 2017 7:00 pm
Alistair Drosselmeyerstarting ec:1000 Alistair felt confused. the pulsing rock in his hand. mde his hand pulse. it pulsed in a way that rock should not pulse. this is living rock!!"
he turned to talk to her before she vanished only to see her leave. his right hand tightened on the rock. he could feel it. the Life energy of the rock being transferred to his fingers and being embedded into his very being. the hairs on his body stood on end, and not just from this exchange. he fetl as if cold water had been dumped unto his body.
he turned to look at Dixon. "wings of white?" he repeated the phrase that had gotten stuck on him. he wondered what she could be saying. what could she be referring to?
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Posted: Thu Mar 02, 2017 7:29 pm
✺Forgotten Son EC: 0 The count was just beginning to come to; the entire time Agni had been speaking he was in a trace of sorts; at this juncture he was not aware the stone had been handed over to Alistair--too small on the radar to register, perhaps?
He was now practicing the time-tested rite of flexing and unfurling one's fingers after undergoing a profound change; indeed, it was this action which alone that could tell the world one had, to use the plebeian tongue for a moment, 'seen some s**t.' He was in the steerage of a boat captained by Alistair: the sea curling in was the answers unsatisfactory to either, plowing through now--the name of the vessel curiosity--at the new silence, the calming of the storm.
"Yes," replied the count, turning his body faster than his head was able to come to face Alistair's, "... Yes, that's right." He took a breath to steady himself. "I don't suppose this means we can go back to just being royal and noble... --Aye, it's a regular myth, innit?" He added with a chuckle.
"... However," he said, allowing his face to become stern, business-like, again, "I get the feeling there's something more to be discovered. I was able to see so many things when she--" and here he paused, pulling a hand quickly through his hair and exhaling--"the goddess! touched me; but even that seemed to fall away as she told me what really happened--past lives, yeah?"
"I felt... Pure. That's the only way I can think to describe it--these 'white wings.' man." The whole ordeal had left the count so frazzled he reverted to his urban accent. Very un-noble of him, but these were dealings far beyond the pale line of nobility and peasantry.
"You've got something too, eh?" He returned, gesturing to Alistair's hand.
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Posted: Fri Mar 03, 2017 5:35 am
Alistair Drosselmeyerstarting ec:1000 Alistair watched the noble before him as he let the full weight of what happened seemingly enter his very being. he would choose not to remark on the urban accent. he did not mind it. he liked that someone was taking this seriously.
"when we met i was just a noble. my father has ruled less then a year. " he reminded him. it seened to him that time was an odd thing. once one became a royal it seemed that they where always a royal if you had to guess by the way others treated him. " past lives, white wings. and genocide.... if there wass one thing that might enrage the greatest god it might be genocide."
he spoke with a bit of detachment, tho his knuckles where white from how hard he was holding the rock. he stared at it as the count brought his attention to it. "yes. i have never seen a rock like this. it pulses as if it was alive. "
his eyes seeed clear of all emotion, even as his brain raced with ideas. Stoic. girls always called him that. when under pressure he liked to erase his emotions. and there was no more then this. " in the maude there is a statue with white wings, and one with black. i cant remember the tale right now but supposedly something bad is supposed to happen if a thread is cut there. i need to find the answers now more then ever." he looked at the count. " what do we do with this information? do we tell others that we have seen agni, or do we keep this information to ourselves? do we move around in shadows to acomplish our mission?"
he waited. to see what the count would say. still the look of an impassive wall.
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