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Since the dawn of time, all who stood perched in supremacy were not devoid of conflict. For as far back as ideals were first conceived in differing forms, so was the strife that tugged apart the realms from strained beliefs. All who hadn’t the need to tread solid ground were not exempt from this rule, for as long as beings existed pedestaled atop shallowly risen conflict, so shall this eternal struggle continue to fester. To the true happenings that filled the world, the majority of higher forces cared not to intervene. These forces busy themselves with personal agendas, having already been packed with greed and hedonistic tendencies. Both of the commonly known variants of these forces having been dubbed with divine fervor, dreaded contempt or in some cases, both; with every voice that roared out in contemptuous and subjective fervor, another would bark back and retaliate with an opposing gospel. And thus, arbitrary standards were nurtured, propagated and shouldered by the sky dwellers from the crippling weight of time. For every entitlement that befell an ethereal being, there was another which opposed the very same; an endless cesspool of overbearing ideals which defiled the pleasures of living and debauched the existence of difference. Give and take, take and give. Those remained to be the two eternally-bound and roped terms which to the minority of the populus’ surprise, gave rise and fall to the varying entities that occupied the mortal realm. The compulsive irony gave unnecessary weight for each and all, a greyed seesaw that never repents to its repetitive ways. Each contested swing of either end giving into harm’s way. It is with these scattered and mal-reactive doctrines that impede the harmony the self-proclaimed followers of light sought, and it is the same scattered doctrines that halt the growth and development of descendant-kind. But fret not, for those sorceries that impede can be usurped by the blantly simple action of acceptance. For all who accept can foster harmony. For all who accept can enact adaptation. It is he himself who impedes himself, for all the complications that plague one’s soul can be spirited away by the saving grace of one’s primordial instinct; and it is only through steadfast resolve that trails toward liberation. Even if one steers back to whence he started, even if one’s true desire disperses by the indomitable and oh so valid trials of faith, they may still be redeemed. For all the malevolent talons that claw into one’s being, they owe only redemption to themselves, as is the only remedy. There is but only one promise which may presumably provide a solution, a sole word that punctures through the thorn encased veil, leaving the previously entombed entity unharmed, and now pure... Sacrifice. Despite all that Diakenis’s cynicism reaps, the being still remains a manifestation of distrust and self-reliance among his fellow “kin”, caring for only the possible near-future in which the immortal squabbles dating back to his conception fades away from both his mind and existence. In spite of this, his methods are of reasonable terms in most instances of his nebulous-dealings, subjectively speaking. The Daemon is not one for unruly actions, refusing to steal from that which it truly belongs, detesting the ideal methods of true self-gain. Diakenis, as to most whom have studied his sparsely recovered scriptures might describe him, is a rather pragmatic force, veering away from erratic behavior that might lead his own form to the purgatory of fanaticism . Although most of his thoughts are often stowed curses toward the heavens, like most Daemons of his nature, they never actually make it through to his speech, nor does his lack of action rumble across the heavens; just as one would expect. His view on the descendants remain firmly latched to the inner-workings of his character: being that all Humans, Elves, and descendant-kind alike, hold no more merit than the white-lies they were forcibly-fed by those who have the authority to do so: the Aenguls, the Ascended, the compatriots of Aerial that rot the soil with prided deception through every given step of foolhardy action. Their meddlesome dealings reach even his own set of ears, with wavering entry. Though he is not one for intervening amongst mortal conflict; the one underlying problem that still remains intact within each and every one of the mortal beings’ very souls, through his own scorned perception; Is that of earthly belief systems, having been brought into the world of the living by the hypocritical seekers of peace. And in that, which hauls back even the most valiant of descendants toward regression. In seclusion, his only loosely set goal was that of maintaining himself. That is, until a rallied array of thoughts invaded his own period of brooding, with every new idea arisen from its arsenal, soon added to the dissuasion of his sheltered life. For a foot out the door may bring the possibility of missteps, so too would the lack thereof. For seclusion just as the others would render him weaker, so he thought. The inciting reason as to what led to his capricious thoughts and behavior remains unknown. Barely scraped together whispers of his current whereabouts composed of only this: his being is still very well enshadowed by the vague retelling of his dwelling, allowing only those whom prove to be of worth beneath his calling, to embody the caretakers of his observations. From his own view of things, the obstruction of the world’s current outlines for action is a necessary one, for the sake of all that crawl under it. For his will is not entirely consumed by his very own being, most of his still intact following has a share in his very same trail of thought. Though most of its purpose is obscured by un-pieced documentations, most who are borne beneath his desire have the incentive to abandon their previous posts in life. The bonds now broken, formed previously of superficiality, being a dreaded abomination far below his own teachings. Priests who attest to shaming their own cravings, to the soldiers who perform only for their solemn bought loyalty. He wishes to destroy the falsified pacts that withhold from happiness, for all that is ordered, may also fall victim to cowardice in facing their own nature. For every head that burrows beneath the ground in shameful mourning for their carnal desires, strikes the Daemon with a great deal of displeasure derived from the very image. The shambling sorrows that shackle mortals doused in callous for themselves, are not to be pitied, as it would only bring further disgrace in lack of assistance. This isn’t to say the Daemon himself is that of gifting-nature, for his gestures of freedom come at steep-prices, and mayhaps steeper consequences if not handled with caution. The notion often deprived of any desire to be truly sought after, turning away all of sound mind by its face-value; his ideal freedom, not well-received by those ill-set in their ways. He hasn’t the need to conform to the words uttered by those beneath his own station, trusting in only the actions from those who truly aim to fuel his own ambition. Words that make haste in delivery, but dwindle in authenticity has always drawn resentment from Diakenis; time and time again has the age old dilemma proven to shed light on his own misanthropic ways . Regardless, despite his attempts at averting most conflicts, sparked by outside forces; he prefers to deal with those that germinate from within. Deciding it best to deal with the world’s disturbances at its roots,being those afflicted by misshapen, inherited brain-washing that rained from the divine realms. And such is the hypothesis for his existence, perhaps beyond the realm of mere coincidence. Credits Writer: Matheus (matheu3) Conceptualized by: matheu3 & Tavernlich Editor: Tavernlich Additional assistance/Guidance: Benboboy (As always, feed-back and critique in all forms are welcome. I will be making additions/adjustments from said feed-back. Thanks for reading!)