Death

Post Reply
Sarin
Posts: 81
Joined: Tue Jun 09, 2020 5:21 am

Posted by Sarin »


Azuriel stands in front of the portal to Arborea, the key in her hands. The flame had gone out. Negative and positive. That all consuming faith in the right, just order of death was gone. Doubt, love, passion, anger, regret. She could no longer hold onto it. Sometimes death was not just. Sometimes people who died should not. Sometimes people who live should have died.

The demons who killed her father lived, and her father, her world, her brothers and sisters and all of her gods were dead. Was that just? Unjust? Or was it just chaos. Endless coin flips forever. The multiverse had a purpose, it had to have. But the multiverse did not make sense. There was no grand truth, no great mystery. Just cosmic marbles on a table flying around, bouncing off each other, exploding on impact, passing through. Death was not just. And her faith had faded with that knowledge.

But it was more than that. Sarin, Null, Wrath, Mikistsanatl. All wanted to die. They had small things connecting them to this world. A friend here or there, gold, memories, power, desires. But now? Now she had so many things to live for, it was getting annoying. She had a family. She had friends to protect. A city she would fight for, and get mad and sad and feel pain, and suffer because of what happened to it. The death and carnage the tax and refugees had caused made her feel… angry, sad, happy. Her history, the ethics she said she went by said: she should simply accept the death and pain as normal and good, and continue as normal.

She looks down at her dustmen badge, clipped to her chest. She takes it off, and tosses it onto her bag of personal possessions. She would stay until the current mixup ended. Then… Things would happen. Plans get destroyed when they actually start to happen. She made no plans. She wanted to become a xaos. But she did not know or care how. She steps through the portal.

The Sensates' link to Arborea left her close far, far too close to Olympus for her liking. For her dislike of the Athar, their hatred of the gods due to the denizens of this place was right. At least in her mind. She took to the air, wings of mist extending from her back, and began to fly. The soothing, warm air quickly gave way to blistering heat. Then after, a few miles, massive gusts of wind and strikes of lighting. Azuriel had her goal. But she had no plan for how to get there. This would happen, one way or another.

Eventually, she sees a settlement under her. She came down for a landing, and looked around. Arboreans milled about, going through their day to day activity. Azuriel wandered for a bit, simply watching, until she stumbled into somebody selling animals. The animals were not caged, nor chained, nor restrained in any way. A bird caught her eye. Large. The size of a raven. It was strikingly blue, with bright golden plumage.Azuriel bought it with a random handful of coins she had to gather, realizing that using currency from Mechanus might not be the best idea. She looks at the bird for a moment, and realized she had no idea why she bought it. She held a hand down, and it hopped on. It then hopped, and with a flutter, landed on her shoulder.

Azuriel continued to move. The court of stars had no ‘location.’ no stable portal, unless you wanted to go through the protected one in the plane of water. So, there was literally no destination for the angle. She takes to the air again, and to her surprise, the bird follows her. They both fly, continuing in the same direction, away from Olympus.

As she moved, Azuriel passed quite a few things on the ground. Parties, fights, weddings, towns, wilderness. The landscape changed drastically as they moved. Deserts, dense forests, mountain ranges, tundras. It takes eighteen hours of flying for Azuriel to glance over, and realize that the bird is barely keeping up with her. She quickly heads for the ground, and lands with a plume of sand in a desert

She deftly catches the bird as it attempts to land next to her. She looks it over. Exhaustion, sleep deprivation, starvation, dehydration. These problems were normally fixed with a simple spell by the angel. But she had no magic. Reaching into her dozens of bags of holding, she quickly produces items

A self-deploying tent, a stone which radiated comfortable coolness for 20 feet in the sweltering desert, food, and water. She knew the wilderness would not be tamed for very long, but it would last for now. She had created hundreds of birds, from bone to organ too feathertip for her god, and she knew what to do.

Slowly, she fed the bird enchanted, pure, slightly cool water, and a small amount of food. Carefully, she makes a small bed, and places the bird in it. Within moments, it sleeps. The angel glances around, suddenly afraid of danger for herself, and the bird. Slowly, the wind blows, the sun scorches overhead, and her attempt to tame the desert starts to be destroyed. She created a small swaddle out of cloth and sticks, to block from the sun, placed the sleeping bird in it, collected her things, turned the cooling stone far, far down, placing it near the bird, and stood, starting to walk.

The angel is not afraid of the scorching sun, blowing winds, or burning sand. She moves through the desert easily, stopping every few hours to care for the bird. She very quickly realizes that while her water and food work, they are not correct. This was a creature of Arborea, and her supplies were gathered from Arcadia. She began to look for a town.

Eventually, she stumbled upon not a town, but tents. A caravan of people who lived in this land had set up, for now. She walked into their midsts, recognized, but not bothered. Out of acceptable money, she barted for water, and multiple types of food. Seeds, strawberries, a few types of freshly killed insects, and grubs. She mashes up the food in her mouth, and slowly feeds it to her bird.

She stays at the village, until her bird is healthy again. Then, the angel starts to travel.

She stays on foot, with the bird on her shoulder. What was the point of ‘having a journey’ if she just flew over a place. The wilderness of Arborea was intense, and hard to manage. The weather was unpredictable, and often violent. The landscape was sometimes so dense the only way to truly get through it was a mixture of flight, and following her bird. Towns where traveled through, sometimes she might even find something worth calling a city.

Eventually, she came across a party. A massive party. She entered it, and was instantly pulled into the relavrie. She danced, sang, and drank. It seemed endless. It might have been endless. She stayed there for what seemed like forever.

Eventually, she noticed the bird circling overhead. She pulled herself away from the merrymaking. It flew down, and landed on her shoulder, giving a slight cooing sound. The angel reached up to scratch the feathers on its neck. She turned to the party, and realized it was too much for the bird, it would get hit, and thrashed around. She continued on, moving forward.

After some more time of travel, the angel realized somebody was following her. Two people. She decided not to worry about it, and continue on. Another party. She avoided this one, although she couldn't avoid a bottle of wine being shoved into her hands. She Traveled on for some time, until she eventually stumbled across what looked like a noble holding court. She decided to join.

Unlike the past encounters, these were Eladrin. And they saw her for what she was. She was given a wide berth. The lord of the court spoke.

“Come forward,” *He said, a command, with no question about its authority. Azuriel does so, standing before him.

“Why has a creature of order and death come here? This is not your domain, not your land. You are not welcome.”

Azuriel does not speak for a moment thinking about her words.

“Everything I was died, and rotted. And I never continued. I have come here to be reborn.I’m tired. So very, very tired. But I dont want to be. I want to recover. To be well.”

The lord considered for a few minutes, then gave a slight nod.

“Please, join us.”

Azuriel joined the court. She knew this. She was a devil, once. She was an Arcadian. This was not some massive party. There was music, there was dancing. Sometimes tensions ran high, sometimes there was merriment, but it held a degree of dignity to it. Azuriel joined. The angel's emotions were already returning, before she returned to the realm. Endless years of repression as a dustman had damaged them, but the love for her family, for pleasure, for her friends, for her city, had allowed the resurgence.

The angel asked for rebirth. She didn't really understand what it meant. But here, she was allowed too. The magical nature of the plane, the structure of this ball let her She bragged to the Eladrin about how much she loved her family, and when her family was insulted for their race, she got crushingly angry and demanded duels. She listened to the music of a satyr playing a flute, and really, truly heard music for the first time in an age. Understand that it was more than the correct sounding notes. That it was an expression of passion. She heard what the satyr felt at that moment. She forgave, she wept, she grew angry at the injustices done to her. It all came exploding back to her. So much changed. But nothing changed. She was herself, she felt the same. But she could really, truly feel them. Her love, anger, spite, joy, pleasure. Were heartfelt. Full. true. She left the court the same woman, but not dead.

She traveled by foot, the blue bird on her shoulder. It didn't take more than a few miles for those people following her to reveal themselves. An arrow flew out of the dense forest. Azuriels hand fleshed up, and batted it away. She had been ready for this for a long time. Two armed men rushed out of the forest, carrying greatswords. In a flurry of violence they attacked the angel.

She made no motion to attack back, and easily dodged all of their attacks, batting arrows away as she danced circled around them.

“I dont want to hurt anybody,” *She said, ducking under a swing, reached up to keep the bird close to her, making sure it went under the swing.

“You stink of the pit,” Said the archer as he walked forward, loosing more arrows.

“I know. But that's not who I am anymore. I dont want that.”

“You are a spawn of order, of death. This is a place of life. Return to your domain creature,” He spoke again.

“I… I am, yes. But I dont want to be. I want to escape that.”

More arrows, more sword swings.

“But you didn't. You came here as one. Leave, or we will kill you.”

“I can't,” Said the angel, moving with slight worry as she had to deflect a sword swing on her chain covered forearm.

“Then you die,”

The archer unleashed a flurry of arrows. The first one was deflected, and the rest were dodged, or bounced armor. But there was a squawk, and a flash of red, as one hit Azuriels bird. The angel gives a pained cry, and suddenly dropped to the ground, pulling a potion from her belt, and attempting to force it down the bird's throat. The two with greatswords raised them for a coup de grâce. But then stopped. The one who shot the arrow hesitated, his bow lowering

The arrow had gone through the bird's chest. Even as Azuriel attempted to force an immensely powerful healing potion down its throat, it was too late. Forgetting she was being attacked, she clutched the bird to her chest, and sobbed. She had made birds. That was the duty she was given. But it was not a job. Her birds. Her children, all of them. The good, the bad, the smart, the stupid. She had given up that angel. And become an angel of death. But she looked at the dead bird and sobbed, tears falling onto the ground. The three Eladrin that had attacked her all stopped, seeing her reaction. The two swordsmen seemed unwilling to strike the grieving woman, and sadness and pain suddenly swept across the archer's face, as he realized what he had done.

The angel whispered. So silent no other creature would ever hear.

“Please. Let me in. I need help.”

Suddenly, a portal to the court of stars flashed open, before the group. Five Shiere stood on the other side, armed and armored, ready for war. The three Eladrin that had attacked Azuriel stood back, one gave a nod of respect, one bowed. The archer simply watched. Azuriel stand, carrying the dead bird, and went through the portal.

The Shiere did not escort her anywhere, but they followed where she went, their weapons out. The intention was clear. You may be here, but you are not trusted or safe. Azuriel did not mind. She did not deserve any better. She saw a palace, on top of what looked like a mountain. A massive forest surrounded her, with impossibly large trees and animals. Azuriel walks through it,heading for the palace. It doesn't take her very long to reach it and as she travels, she slowly starts to realize she knows all of these locations. Her travel through Arborea was across this exact terrain, at least in shape. The desert, the planes, the snow, none of that was there.

Azuriel suddenly realized none of it was real. Or perhaps all of it was real. That she was in the realm of Morwel, in some way, since she first entered Arborea. She goes to the palace, which takes days, although time did not pass here, so it did not truly mean anything. She does not enter. She simply stands before the gates.

“The order of good can be tyranny. Sometimes evil deserves a second chance. Sometimes rules must be broken, for people to be helped. Sometimes you do stupid things for love. Sometimes you do stupid things for a long time. Sometimes you get lost, for endless years, and nothing makes sense. Hopefully, you eventually find your way. I came here because I love my family. My friends. My city. My devotion to order is almost gone, and I want to make things better, not worse. I dont want pure chaos. I dont want evil.”

Azuriel pauses. That was her speech, the thing she had prepared, hoping to gain some attention. And nothing happened. She glanced down, and realized, at the moment, she didn't care.

“Please. Let me bring him back. I dont want any more of my birds to die…” The last part was just barely choked out, past heart-broken sobs.

Suddenly, power surged through the Angel. No fire, no negative energy, no positive energy. Life, chaos, warmth, love, rage. As the angel suddenly kneels, and starts to recite a resurrection spell, her form slowly shifts. The angelic form was a lie, and it was dead. A broken, twisted fiend, blessed by a power, but rotten to the core. By the time the spell was complete, her form was gone, reborn into a creature of life. Her base, soul connection to her personal demiplane of death slowly began to break down during the spell as well. That anchor she had held onto, that she reformed in, that she drew power from, melting away, finally being allowed to die, as its owner died, and was reborn. Everything in it that lived, spilled out into the first. The change Azuriel looked around. Her guards were gone. She picked up Rosemary, as a portal opened, right next to the Sigilian portal to the festhall..
Post Reply