CONSEQUENCE OF THE COSMOS

[Cepheid 4304]

Spoiler

 

 The contents of this post are a culmination of the events that have occured the past few weeks in Celia'nor with the voidal tear from Valyris's perspective. It's only known to those that witnessed these events, enjoy the read!

CONSEQUENCE OF THE COSMOS

17th of the Amber Cold, 124 SA

 

Nightmares and dreams, they’re all the same in the end. The torment that pulls and tugs at the soul and the mind to anguish over what one hopes to be and what one hopes never to come. It is in those dreams that we find solace within the surreal, only for time to turn its hands back to our unending reality. A reality that we cannot escape from unless it is within that of dreams or nightmares.  

 

Only this time did a nightmare unfold into reality, screams of unrelenting anguish echoed across the forests of the West. An ivory tower had fallen, crumbled into chaos and ruination of kin. The cosmos clashed with the machinations of the material realm, cracks, thuds, and the sound of stone slamming against stone echoed through those very halls that represented the sanctity of the stars. It all crumbled around at last, the glass house that shrouded them from the impending dangers and she was there to witness it. She knew that this day would eventually come, that which seeks to consume and destroy always does. For the folly of mages was inevitable, the fault of others that followed her no matter where she went, no matter how much she tried to stop it. She woke up with a start as the walls rumbled and the cosmic hues shot wide open. The buzz of electricity that was felt in the air and the energies that spun through the room around her. Deafening shrieks of uncanny horrors and citizens caught within the crossfire had surely been heard.

 

A sinking pit was felt within her chest as she knew exactly what had occurred, the unthinkable and the inevitable. She rose from her chambers with an odd thing in her grasp, a tome of forsaken ideals and nightmares of what had occurred. She checked each room with a strange calm that had overtaken her in a wave of disassociation amidst the chaos. The clicking of her boots rang through her ears down the quartz corridor, each level of the palace scanned for signs of life yet there was nothing left. Nothing left but her, how ironic, as the abyssal mists began to wrap around the book that she held close. 

 

Forsaken….            Cruel…                      Abandoned…                Darkness…           Emptiness…

                     Hollow…             Forsaken…                 Guilty…                 Unworthy…

Not her…

     It’s her fault, it’s all her fault, it’s all her fault…                                 What has been done cannot be undone…

 

She knew what would come and she still abandoned us. I knew what was going to happen and yet there was nothing I could do to stop it. Did she make it? Was she just protecting it? It’s her fault, and now I have to pay the price. Unworthy of filling that which cannot be filled, expectations that weigh down until they crumble. Crumble they have from that ivory tower of faux providence. What has been done cannot be undone as the thralls of the cosmos have latched themselves into our reality.

 

The sky had fallen to a darkness that enveloped that of the new hope, Fi’andria. A step was made out of the gardens and into the open hair as unforeseen horrors ripped apart the city. Gore and viscera painted the city in its unrecognizable state, the streets running red with a river of blood. A nightmare on repeat, the hands of reality turning back between two ticks, only it was no mere nightmare. The escape was gone as the perturbation of the cosmos had melded with reality, and this was the cost. What she dreaded to escape from within the dreams and nightmares, had come to fruition. 

 

What has been done cannot be undone. I tried to be better than them, better than the rest of the world. To avoid the mistakes that all who have walked this same path as I am upon. Painted upon in the light of the world as a malefactor of the realm when all I have done has been to do what I believe to be right. Not to hide behind a fractured facade of a paragon of benevolence much like each and every other in my own position. What was it all for if the Descendents point and blame when they are guilty of far worse? The secrets that they hide in the dark, believing no one knows, believing they can get away with such. Yet here I stand amid the chaos, in the midst of what happens when one cannot feign what they are not. 

 

The figure made her trek forwards towards those that were battling the amalgams of chaos, agents of flesh and bone mindless to anything other than to consume. Crimson sticking to her boots as it sloshed over in tides of puddles down the path. She did not see the people fumble but prevail as the last of the horrors was slain by those defending the defenseless. They prevailed, despite the odds they prevailed. The only casualties were those to follow by their own ignorance, those that wandered too close without warning. The lucky few to have made an escape from the nightmares. The Princess of the Cosmos then began to take on a strange hue, unlike anything seen created by one’s voidal alignment. A torch in the dark, to become something more. The City of Stars would soon make known its second namesake, the City of Stars and Embers. The embers have been ignited by the beyond. 

 

But the hearts of men are easily corrupted.

 

It had been an endless toil between those that had remained to fight against the void as a certain stillness washed over the city of stars and embers. A static buzz clung to the air as the amalgams of the cosmos were confined to the walls of her home. The  Elaneh'celia Palace, in absence of a beacon having finished on the cusp of the designs finalizing, the cosmic pharos had erupted in its stead to be ripped apart by the fabrics of reality. The ritual had failed for what was a failsafe by the progenitor of tears, what could rewrite time if not for the weavers of it themselves? Blinked to various points across the realm did most of their numbers result in going to. A tug was felt at her soul, to run, to flee from that which wished to consume. 

 

Resolution.

 

The word rang within the mind of the elf as she stepped out of the hollow, perhaps an answer to what it was she so seeks to find. She paced back in observance of the shockwave that had rippled across the field and she had her answer. It was not a curse for which the land could not be cured, but it simply was not ready to be so. Hallowed ground be made anew, manipulated to use for the defense of the city against the onslaught of forces soon to arrive at her doorstep. Maddened creatures of the beyond that lingered at the cusp not yet to be released into the material. If the inevitable is to come across these lands certainly it would not be so easy by taking what does not belong.  

 

What has been done cannot be undone. Yet, it does not mean the tides of those that linger within the caves cannot be felled off. If not forever, then for the time needed to scorch the earth, the time needed to set ourselves apart and flee. It is not the end, but the beginning of what will become. To cleanse the land, from cave to cosmos, that is what will be. That which is fated to ilMaehr'sae Ilkun'ehya.

[Laeonathan 5889]

A Celianorian Lord on travels thought fondly of his liege and friend Valyris - remembering their first interaction plain and clear. Oh! How she had grimaced upon hearing his fathers name. Yet over time they became friends.

 

A storm rose, and his smile faded as he snapped back into reality, raising his boats sails...

[Morigung-oog 5697]

An ancient survivor of multiple Voidal incursions stands at the window of the room of her Kin’s estate, forsaken and forgotten. Her features sporting a scarcely seen stoicism. Peering to the walls of the city she had fought to protect her lips, darkened by the product of her ambitions, pulled into a frown. The hollow sat but a few hundred metres from her home, a threat never truly forgotten and her guard never let down. 
 

“You failed to listen to me, my royarch.”

 

The elfess spoke, seemingly to but the air around her, hands clasping behind her back.

 

”And now I pose you this. Was it worth it in the end?”

[Mescaffier 6197]

A maddened Necrolyte stewed over the situation, each tap of her foot echoing throughout the catacombs she was laid in. She was there, briefly, to listen to their great martyr's plan of destroying Celianor with it ... the tear. She knew the consequences. Her friends had died, all horrid deaths surely.

 

Alas, she didn't care. "Ruin! Glorious ruin . . . Ek-ek-ek. John died for good reason, he allowed our plans to progress. Hail Iblees, Hail Hydra, Hail Lubba."

[DISCOLIQUID 2701]

An enigmatic Magus prepared her notes on devices to slay Horrors.