Welcome to Gaia! ::

Ishum stared miserably into the dimly lit hallway, wishing from the bottom of his heart he wouldn't be the only Aoide currently left in his master's service. He didn't mind being sent on errands, really, he didn't, but he did not at all feel comfortable with the current role of being Underworlds official messenger forced upon him. There was just too much which could go wrong considering the fact that his tongue often enough seemed to slip on its own. Not every deity was as kind and forgiving as Lady Kishara (at least as long as Lord Nergal wasn't mentioned in her presence)..

If he picked the wrong words, or should babble without without previous thinking once again, he might end up as a bloody smear on the Pantheon walls one fine day. Or something much, much worse, considering the deities which had occassionally frequented the Underworld in the past..

More than anything, however, he was worried he might hurt his Lord's reputation with a thoughtlessly spilled comment of his. Technically being merely Underworld's stable-boy he just wasn't cut out to properly represent his Master, he felt. The stables, that was where he belonged, taking care of his Lord's beasts and mounts, chatting and sharing the newest gossip with the other servants.. But that had been a long time ago, he reminded himself with a wistful sigh, and who knew if it would ever be like in the good old times again. Here was here, and now was now, and he had an errand to take care of, a message to relay - and he'd better stop whining and feeling sorry for himself and take care of it before his Lord would run out of patience and come looking for him in person.

Taking a deep breath the Aoide approached the door which had been described to him by Gaia and knocked, praying he wasn't disturbing Lord Lucius' slumber or something. Nergal had sent him out awfully early, and not everyone was a morning person like the Lord of the Underworld who seemed to require less and less sleep lately.

"Lord Lucius?" The Aoide called out, after having waited for what seemed to be the appropriate amount of time to him after knocking. "I.. am Ishum - faithful servant to Nergal, the Overseer of Souls," he continued after having cleared his throat and taken a deep breath. "He requests an audience with you, my Lord, to talk with you about a matter he deems to be of great importance; and, erh, to ask for your assistance with an artifact of old which came into his possession."

He paused, eyeing the closed door cautiously. He might be talking to an empty room here, and secretly he prayed that this was indeed the case, that the Universe simply.. wasn't at home.

So the Universe was at home. There was something bizarre and ridiculous about that thought, which almost caused the Aoide to laugh out loud even despite his innards felt like they'd frozen stiff from fear. The Universe was everywhere, after all, and the thougth of it.. him.. being "at home" somewhere.. The Aoide shook his head, trying to shake off those silly thoughts before they could do any harm. Fingers trembling, he opened the door and stepped inside, allowing himself only a quick glance at the surroundings to satisfy his curiosity before he bowed deeply, a slight quiver of his golden wings being the only sign of how tense and nervous he actually was. He was getting better at this. At least, he hoped so.

"My Lord," he greeted him respectfully, not daring to look up.

"It is not up to me to question the ways of my God," Ishum murmured quietly, still keeping his glance downcast. "He is.." He hesitated for a moment, discarding several adjectives to describe Nergal, none of which were what you'd exactly call flattering for the Underworld deity, and in the end decided against actually finishing the sentence. "Think of it as his way to show his respect for you," he said instead. Because, basically, that was it. He knew Nergal had felt quite conflicted on how to approach someone who had been marked as sinned, and he could only guess why he had decided to treat him with the same measure of respect as any other member of his kind.

"Any time which pleases you, my Lord," Ishum replied to the question. "I can go and fetch him right now if that is your wish - there are currently no matters which demand his immediate attention." Which was the most formal and polite way he could think of to say he's got nothing better to do.

"Of course, my Lord, that was uncalled for, my apologies," the aoide muttered hastily and bowed deep once more, his ears burning bright red in reaction to the rebuke - but at least this time he managed to overcome the urge to drop down on all four and crawl out backwards as he would have done some time ago.

"I will inform him right now, thank you." Ishum's hasty retreat was nothing more but a barely disguised flight, especially with the door slamming shut much louder than it had to be. The golden-winged Aoide was more than glad that he was forbidden to show his face to Universe once more - he was scary.

"Enter."

His voice was stronger this time, the command of a raw power, old and terrible. An thing of ancient birth, and it shocked him to hear such a voice, cold and humanless as it was, issue from his own mouth. He remained in the alcove, shifting colours beneath milky, clouded darkness. The hour had not changed his attire, either. He did not stand as the other came into the vast rooms, and looked the other godling over. Here was one who's face was too round and too angled, much like Khiviance. A gender-shifter, but the aoide had said 'Lord' in all things, so he would take this Nergal as 'he'.

"Welcome, Lord. Your aren't the first to seek the cursed, though admittedly you are the least known to me. I recall not even your host. Better then, perhaps, for fairer airs between us. "

"As you stand before me, then your realm is not gone anymore then my own, Underworld. There is sepulcheral air to your wings, as if the dead could be in them...time will tell, since memory does not. Are you realm or are you just shepherd of the realm?" My money would be on the former. It feels more right, though I could just be searching for kinship in any place. Any reason might do, to give me counsel to treat with these younger gods...to find friend among those who weren't there. I walk some line of human and inhuman, hateful chance. What did she do to me? "Largess you may make to me later, for whatever we deem appropriate when you are better come to your strength. "

He looked over the scepter, long and hard, before accepting it into his own hands. It's lines were solid and fair, too fine for mortal wrought. "Artifact indeed, though it's power seems faded, it's once-majesty is plain enough for the eye to see."

"It stirs no shadows. What is the purpose of the thing, and what do you ask of me?"

He couldn't help but wonder whether the binding of nearly all his power would affect the 'tokening' or not. The younger certainly would have no idea, so there was no reason to bother striking up a discussion about it.

"Conflicting signals?" There was no definitive proof, perhaps there were more then one being of the highest echelons being sought in the olden days, but his mind strayed to the very first.

His body flashed brilliantly, like a contained nova, when he was done and he looked up to her from his crouch. The brand was weeping again, mixing blood with tears that still fell. "I ...do not understand the meaning of this. I cannot find a single beacon. There are glimmers, spread over the worlds, that seem familiar to this gem. 7 comets where there should be a star?"

Pana rubbed her lips with the fingertips of one hand. "Seven fragments, then?-"

It may not be correct, but Lucius' eyes burned with a certainty that he would have, if optioned, bet on the conclusion to be made of the fragments. The mark of the Sinned on his face bled starlight again as he looked from the scepter back to the godling. "Reborn through many lives, Sanatruces is but another, later, name for Aristogeiton. Panacea came to me long ago with Harmodius' own amulet, said to hold his life in the prototype manner to our own Edelsteine. I searched then, finding fragments of a being all over myself. So, Underworld, would you ask the same of me as she did?"

"And I am to defer to my rival once again. Won't He be proud." There was no relish in Universe's tone. Well, wasn't this one the poster child for humility and nobility. Touching, to feel so honourable and righteous in a chosen path. He almost clapped for the b*****d, but restrained himself. This was no time for such, and he was not truly so high to set scorn to others for being what they were. Nergal was being honest, however ignorant he may be of how his actions may be taken by one so Sinned and thrown down. He was treating as if he did so with another of his own kind.

He could not fashion a star. Not even a nebula. There was nothing that he could create that would be a symbol and part of his power to infuse into the object and send it from his sight.

Lucius looked over at his once-wounded wing, the movement slow. A feather was not strong enough...it was just a thing, one of countless that made up the inconveniences on his back. He lifted one of his hands, palm out and fingers spread, like displaying fetching jewelry to the other god. His fingers pulled together and, turning his hand back to himself, drove claws in to carve out the eye beneath the brand.

Light like water trickled as a fountain from the wound, and he dropped the organ into the orb. The seams of the artifact flashed, turning colours like a kaleidoscope, before settling. Light seemed drawn into the thing, which pinpointed and sent shadowy lines spidering along dim patches of Lucius' skin.

He held the scepter out again to the younger, "It is done."