Tale:Galvyria Act I: Difference between revisions
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==Day of Reincarnation== |
==Day of Reincarnation== |
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[[Category:Scope: Galvyria]] |
[[Category:Scope: Galvyria]] |
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[[Category:Tales]] |
[[Category:META: Tales]] |
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[[Category:Author: Smoothie]] |
[[Category:Author: Smoothie]] |
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Latest revision as of 04:30, April 24, 2025
Act I - Accursed Twins
49,711 BE
Gemitra held out a hand as he coughed blood onto the barren stone. Offering all the Essence he had left, he simply nodded towards Kaiyos. Their fate was inevitable, but perhaps they could push back the Haemagora long enough that someone else would succeed them. Kaiyos, teary-eyed and worn out, took the Essence, and combined the twin echoes of order and chaos to create a devious ward on the Skyshard.
Cursing the Skyshard to attract warriors from across the realm, Kaiyos put all of his energy into his rage at the Haemagora. The Blights, the faceless pestilence monsters that had taken everything from him, from countless others. Emotional acid welled up from his stomach. Rage buried long ago resurfaced in violent shocks. Energy of pure malice, pure anguish. Years of stress and powerlessness and pain, fighting without a foreseeable goal or end, just staving off the inevitable loss of everything, just pretending that this one battle would make things okay, just acting like he still had a place in this inhospitable and forsaken realm. The toxic power that charred its way through his lungs felt chartreuse, viscous and frothing with electric heat, and yet it looked like nothing. Just a surge of overwhelming power that took its toll.
"Ever since the damned Primordials, twins have always been a curse. Only malice and evil has ever come from twins. That is the absolute law of history. The twin Primordials that fought so often that all were thrust into mortality, the twin tyrants above the 16 Gateworlds of old, and the twin plagues spreading across the realm this instant. As I stand here with my twin, my broken fate, and I see the plague approaching, I realize it now. It takes a curse to break a curse, and even if we die here, I will enchant this land to bring more accursed twins. I will set in motion the undoing of these blights and not even death will stop me from repaying the galaxy for my birth! Haemagora, I will not let you take my world!"
The words that sprang from his screaming gut were pounded into the heavenly isle with such magical force that all but the enchanted stone was obliterated. The structure was turned inside out and crushed, the bodies of the twins were gone, and all that remained was a blank rocky canvas and an untold well of residual magic. An Amaranth glow shone from the Skyshard into the eyes of the fateseers.
Ascent of Mourners
The short days of Sespira were a curse moreso than a blessing. Did the people of the world live for thousands of years? Technically, yes. But they didn't experience that time. The slim sliver of daytime was all the time they had, since night brought with it the petrification of all beings. Again, the motionless suspension did count as sleep, so the people were always rested, but it still counted as most of a day's worth of time lost compared to the rest of the realm. Terve pondered the idea of leaving, looking up to the merlot-splattered sky. Right. Haemagora has the world all but surrounded. The lone Skyshard, Bastion, loomed above with its guarding presence. A slim shield against the carmine Blight that hoped to take Sespira for its mass.
Terve felt through the stony soil and dense wood that someone was approaching him rapidly. He tensed before realizing that the footstep pattern was of his twin brother, Melos. The messy-haired and slender young man ran up to Terve's stone amphitheater, panting with a terrified glint in his eye. As Terve opened his mouth to ask what was wrong, Melos blurted out "Bastion!" before basically screaming about a glowing ribbon or something. Melos vigorously pointed to the Skyshard, and as Terve craned his neck to see it, a sky-splitting howl of unrestrained anger resonated from it across the entire world. A violent flash of gold and plum light enveloped the whole thing, arcing with fire and lightning through the Haemagora's massive tentaculous flesh graspers. The whole of Bastion exploded and then imploded, becoming a blank slate of new stone. The crimson abomination faded in the sky just a bit, reeling and shrieking in pain.
"Terve we, we have to-" Melos coughed, "Bastion, we have to go now! It's glowing some Amaranth color and I don't think that's good!" Terve couldn't see a glow, but he didn't want to stay put on Sespira when something that exciting just happened. Nodding to Melos, Terve raised his fists into the air with force, severing a disk of stone from his little rock garden and hurling the two towards the Skyshard. Control over stone may not have helped much to protect his family, but as the barely older Matryana brother, Terve was not going to miss the rare opportunity to be useful with it.
The two landed on Bastion's recombined rocks, a perfectly flat elliptical surface. The stone felt somehow different to Terve's Echo than it used to, almost like it had some kind of built up pressure while still being relaxed. It certainly wasn't normal Skyshard rock anymore. Melos looked around, both bewildered and disappointed. He also seemed to be looking into the stone, despite not having any connection to it.
"Melos, you should try gathering water from the atmosphere. I don't think this big old rock is gonna help you out." Terve knew that Melos' fluid-controlling Echo wouldn't be of much use high up here, but he honestly didn't feel confident enough to protect the two of them on his own. The Haemagora wriggled far above. Was somebody on here before, fighting that thing directly? It was a stretch to believe, but what else could have done whatever the hell this was to Bastion?
Terve mixed up the oblong village-sized island's terrain with his Echo, creating ditches for rivers and lakes and adding hills and boulders. If the rumors of the Haemagora's lobotomized army were true, then Terve felt more confident in less simple terrain. Melos meditated on one of the taller hills, slowly thickening a torus of water around him by wringing the sky dry of it. It seemed that things would be peaceful, at least for a while. As the sun set over Sespira's short daytime horizon and the curtain of frozen night arrived, Terve looked up at the sinewy plague far above him, to watch it suddenly jump forward several hours in time.