A Heart Wrought of Stone

[Rig 17580]

 

 

In the days of his youth, Sul Amirsan aen Sov had been educated. He remembered the days of sitting in a classroom with the lecturer before him going on about geopolitics. The conquest of San’Kala was one such battle he always remembered, where one soldier had turned the tide of battle during the siege, and had snuck into the enemy outpost and opened the gates single-handedly, leading to the slaughter of thousands of Orcs by Renatian and Elven legionnaires. It was then that the youthful elf acknowledged that even those of his own kind could generate mass destruction on a scale hitherto unseen. Sul was disgusted with the nature of human beings, and so was the kernel planted for his own evil– greed is the force which propels territorial acquisitions, lust is the force which rends apart partnerships that matter, romantic or domestic, frugal or rich– and worse still, even “good” men regularly commit evil acts to feed themselves or to survive. 

 

Years later, when possessed by his Striith, he saw countless memories of the darkness within all people’s souls. The Creator of his memory had been killed, God is dead, he professed in silence… but God could be avenged. He forged his compact with Hell and brought forth his grimoire, drenched in oozing rakir, the magical ink which imbibed the powers of the False Princes. Yet, there was one person he cherished always.

 

Isha.

 

It had begun on a beach long ago outside a village which he figured disdained him. He was home from the campaign and had just been gifted a new arm by an automail-maker of good repute. He convened with this woman and over time opened up to her, and there they sat together on the sands with their fingers interlocked, plucking every worry and concern from their tired and troubled minds. They talked for hours and shared much in common beneath the stars that dusted the tranquil night sky. 

 

However, evil persisted. He watched his very organization, his friends and loved ones, splinter apart. Captain Banjo fought against Vyllaenen, and countless of his Valahan friends died. The city which they had fought and bled for had perished and was destroyed. His home, the tower of Breakwater, was rubble. And then came the word of the King of Haense breaking bread with the Lich King Gashadokuro. 

 

Sul was not angry anymore but he knew what he had to do. He pledged his soul to Hell at last and made a compact to do so. All piety of the Canonists was false and the Valahan bartered their souls with the power of Aenguls who had long since distanced themselves from God's grand plan.

“I shall become the greatest of conquerors,” the elf thought to himself. “I shall sacrifice myself to at last bring peace to the world. All life is a mimicry of His design, and God himself would wish a plague of toads upon these foul people. Better still, a flood which shall at last purge them all, and bring their souls together– truly brokered peace, unified, and conquered so that this plane too might join the hellish planes with an honest social order.” 

 

There was nothing that Sul Amirsan aen Sov loathed more than liars, cutthroats and snakes. However, it did not take much for him to give himself to evil, for sometimes it is white lies and tall tales that broker peace amidst polite societies. Vriza emerged from that compact with Velkuzat, and before long an arduous forty-years of learning ensued, and then he joined his soul with the Hells. 

 

As he stood before his compatriots for the last time, Sul Amirsan aen Sov said: “Let it be said that my foes are noble, and they have good intentions. However, with this ritual tonight, we wrest any chance from them for salvation.” 

 

Sul Amirsan aen Sov breathed for the last time before descending into the gory murk, before he was at the center of a Pentacle resembling the one which he served. Together, a great many warlocks summoned their powers as his students watched on, and together they birthed something most foul.

 

In life, it is said that Velkuzat had been a sorcerer of fickle impulses, and had turned himself to stone. Sul Amirsan aen Sov’s body turned to stone then as the ritual reached its apex, and his grimoire dissolved entirely. Then in the Temple of Velkuzat a month later, the stone hatched and spindly cracks showed on its surface, before the elf broke away into plumes of smoke which danced among the lumps of broken stone.

 

Sul Amirsan aen Sov was no more.

 

Long live the Twisted King Vriza.

[Karina 1881]

Spoiler

 

Two golden eyes lay with a hardened, distant gaze upon the pit of gore. He had not known the man long, but ambition spoke highly of him. Some measure of a fellow brother, if he'd ever go so far as to label one of his fellows along that line. Only one had that before, who bore the same terrific corruption through their veins. Sprouted fang, and with venom laced in their tongue. Much like him, Sul represented an abnormality. 

Some measure of stoicism, he daresay even sanity. It clung to them, to their actions. They were not driven by emotion like the others. No, they owned themselves. They had conquered themselves, and in so doing laid the groundwork for his own rise. What would a serpent do but watch from the grass and wait for its meals? He needn't learn the lessons the others so painfully did. Their demise was teacher enough. Their apathy, a cancer he had watched burrow deep and spread. 

By helping another bind himself so fully in chains, he had damned him. This was a sin inescapable, a loss of everything that had made Sul himself. Thus the 'thill came to wonder what the King that rose in his image would be like. In some ways, even this was not so different from the Nephilim rituals. Death, and endless, painful, fire. 

Never would he make the same mistake. This is where the soul went to die, and he held his far too strongly. After all, what could Kendel want but himself? His being? Every thought, every well-trained muscle of that mind. The pit of endless ambition that was his skull contained a terrific ego. He would wrench his very existence out and shatter it, if it meant they would never get it. 

No, this would not do.