[Daemon] Asura, Daemon of Chaos

[squakhawk 7945]

 

SYMBOL: The Fox

DOMAINS: Chaos, Entropy, Disorder

STATUS: Unknown

 

 

ORIGIN

Servant of the Betrayer

 

It was one of the fading memories of the ensnared daemon that she once stood beside Iblees, Lord of Ruin, as an observer and supporter to his cause. In her shorter and shorter recollections, she’d recalled little time in actually supporting Ruin in his endless conquest of descendantkind. Instead, Asura had delighted in the infernal climb; the stories, the drama, the treachery. No king ruled forever, none but Iblees and his less-favoured son atop them all. 

 

She’d muted his lessons, his droning tales of when certain victory was to come in his soon-to-come attack on the four brothers; The First War. She’d thought much about what the world was, and what it would be. For now, petty kingdoms which mirrored the climb itself; sundered under the undead of Iblees as entropy was restored once more. The anomaly of descendants would surely be crushed under Ruin’s very boot.

 

But that did not quite seem to happen.

 

As Iblees faltered before the four brothers in The First War, as the weakling Asura provided so little help against the overwhelming forces that banded together between The Triumvirate and further, she was the first, if quietly, to question this plan, and to question this war overall; though it was not reason that caused her to think. In fact, far from.

 

If Ruin is to win and Iblees becomes Lord of All, are things not the same as before? An emperor and his kingdoms, his kingdoms and their people? Order, in one way or another. Even if he was to lose, how is it Descendantkind had earned such a response from nigh-all of the heavens above? Is it not the nature of things, predators and prey, for the weakest to fall and the strongest to survive? Why would the angels above help in this battle from which they gain nothing?

 

Asura spoke none against Iblees and his failures, as the war came to a close. She was too weak to put any fight against him, too erratic to form any scheme, and too focused on one goal to ever do anything but reach directly for it. Let the natural forces take place, heedless of orderly nature. 

 

II

The Natural Disorder of Things

 

As Iblees sieged The Grove in Athera, the waking of Malchediael had given him chance to escape as he disappeared from the mortal plane oncemore, a freed Aengudaemon in his hands from which he would sculpt one of the greatest enforcers of his will. Chaos, however, found herself free to do whatever she’d liked. Iblees was gone; and his attention now clearly enthralled with the newborn she had cared so little for. 

 

During the grove, much to her dismay, Chaos saw it again. Aenguls descending from the heavens, blessing forces of descendantkind with might and magic to fend off Ruin and his undead. In the time between, it seems the Triumvirate and their heavenly allies had defended the disorderly, treacherous, witless mortal men and women for nothing. Some high goal, perhaps. And whilst he did not speak the loudest, nor claim the title, she’d despised one of them more than all the rest put together. Xan. Order himself, the one she saw at cause for these interventions and the deific power handed to descendants alongside the Ascended, with The Paladins. In the end, if she was to ever succeed in returning things to entropy, Order must die first.

 

It was then that she had created the Itharel, the fledgeling Aengudaemon creating beings of pure chaos meant to sew discontent and burn away nations from outside and in. Ravenous, hungering creatures that stalked Athera at the fringes of nations, burning villages, attacking caravans, eating away at society’s most vulnerable edge. There too were her Itharel made in the mortal image, sent to disguise and cause rebellion and strife in nations. To bring them down from within, and to let the grand collapse come with the fall of descendant’s foundation in nations.

 

But the collapse never came, and society simply struggled onward. Unfortunate for Chaos, descendantkind was frustratingly tenacious. She’d frequently lingered on descending herself at times, barely controlled as her emotions caused her to become less creative, less enthused, with her dwindling and failed Itharel. Servants of Order mopped up her creations, fueling her fury as with the last of them destroyed with not even a raise of Order’s finger. It was than, that all became clear.

 

III

A Moment of Brilliance, To Break The Cycle

 

It came so suddenly, and so quickly; her eyes widened as clarity was granted unto the Aengudaemon by none other than herself. How couldn’t she see it sooner? Too soon did she fall into the same cycle as Iblees, thinking of how perhaps her goal was different, but her methods were the same. Armies and creatures of her own sent to destroy descendants, and yet each time they had failed. If she was ever to win, how could she simply hope heavenly Aenguls would not intervene once again and thwart her one desire?

 

She was weak from the start. A Daemon nigh marginally more powerful than some of the others within the pantheon; a Daemon which inspired no following, no faith, and no kinship with the rest of her kind. Would she accept to stay in torment forever? A cycle unbroken, a cycle which stood as antithesis to her very being?

 

She’d grinned, a smile the widest she’d borne ever since she first observed a demon climbing his way to the top. Disorder begins with the death of order; and yet she could not kill him, not even if she was twice as strong as she was. But perhaps chaos, entropy, is not something that comes within a day. Nor a month, nor a year, nor decades and centuries. She would not sit within this cycle forever, but victory was certain if one thing had happened.

 

Poison Xan from within, chaos birthing itself once again from the seat of order. 

 

Asura knew that he would fall for it; were she to offer her own death in open arms to him, Order would seize the opportunity in an instant, and hold her mantle from anyone else. 

 

She’d come before Dragon’s Peak, Lair of The Xannic Order, her arms spread as Entropy revealed herself in full, a maddened look upon her face as she’d promise destruction over Xan’s servants if their master was not summoned. The same grin spread across her face as when she first was struck with brilliance, in preparation for what was to come. She knew her arrogance was rightly placed; for Xan would arrive without ask or hesitation.

 

Xan struck with the force of heavens behind his blade, a cleaving attack from which a single swing would kill his greatest enemy in an exploit of her seeming insanity. Stars moved and the sun moved along with his blade, golden light cleaving Asura in twain. Yet from the golden blade of order which cut cleanly through her, a blackened trail of smog followed.

 

Xan absorbed Asura, both mantle and realm. Eaten whole, wiping the last traces of Chaos from existence as she was smothered in golden light, embalmed in his golden realm as The Daemon of Chaos became a sealed mantle of Xan himself. 

 

 

PRESENT DAY

Whispers from The Throne 

 

As the Dark Lady lay dead, only the barest essence of her grand soul intermingled with Order’s own, her mantle lay dormant as ashes from that which once was still yet haunted him.

 

It was a gentle accrual; a cancer we began as a benign few mishaps. The Titan of Order, Xan, had began to err mildly in his ways; at least as perceived by his own ilk. Centurions within his realm observed as Order behaved more belligerent- quicker to anger, even if mildly so. Cold, half-calculated demands and orders which seemed at best vague, and at worst and rarest, erratic. It was uncommon for Xan to show any falter, any hint of fear, hindrance, hesitation, or mercy for his foes and brothers alike. And still yet, was it exceptionally uncommon. However, the nature of it seemed to have change. A smidge of brutality, of variability, of turbulence and unfaltering impatience. And though Order maintained his mighty, deific grip over Descendantkind and all it entailed as the greatest holder of mortal subjects and cherished by them with love and respect, something was apparent to only the most devout Centurions of Xan; even unnoticeable from his eldest keepers.

 

Order was no longer perfectly orderly.

 

PURPOSE

Explanation

 

Although Asura and her eventline associated are long-dead, her influence still does somewhat remain as her mantle is an innate part of nature and existence. She did not quite get much time in the spotlight nor the support from the team she really deserved during 4.0, and likely won’t get so again; but she still serves as a part of the pantheon and a motif for other deities, primarily Xan, who she still presides within as a cancerous part of the deity. Maybe she’ll work with new eventlines in the future with the proper flavor, theming, and support Asura deserves to be an interesting and three-dimensional character among the rest of the pantheon.

 

Credit:
Squakhawk - Writing.

Werew0lf - Formatting.

Vailoen - Consultation.