Fantasy Shattered Fates: Renewal - A Dark Fantasy Boss Battling Epic

[Siren77]

So, these horrifying visages of which Irosane had beheld during his time of rest was nothing short of his own memories. While he received this one answer, albeit through the help of Niatiel’s own curiosity, another burning question was to be raised in his mind. What sort of hellish creation would he have been to have witnessed such a terrifying incident that would cause his own soul to suffer in such a way? To behold monstrosities close enough to devour him, but in the end only would taunt him with their sharp teeth and darted eyes. He dared not ask Nera, for fear of hearing an answer he might not like. Surely whatever existence his soul arrived from was nothing short of a nightmare, a terrifying realm of impossibility that he wasn’t quite sure he wished to return to. After all, this place may be a horror in its own right, but at least he was surviving it. For now anyway.

Others were not so Lucky. Irosane silently followed the rest of the group, lost in thought and festering in his own dread of origin. While he thought on his own fears and doubts, others were not so lucky as to be even breathing in this moment. He felt almost foolish for letting his own issues take precedence over the loss of his comrades who had aided him and the others in killing The Twisted Judge, and freeing their souls from the first of many challenges. It seems they were all not the first, and surely they would not be the last.

Countless graves could be seen as far as the eye could see, littering the garden of which they tread as a common sort of decoration. So many had perished, and it sickened Iro to behold such a great loss in this place. It was a continuous cycle of deaths being exchanged until they too would return to the soil as a discarded failure. He couldn’t help but feel as if he himself might’ve been buried in this place at one point or another. This thought is nothing more than conjecture, as the idea of cycles and multiple lifelines was nothing short of impossible. He had one soul and one life. It couldn’t be expended in such a way over and over again. Then again, he was meddling with the overwhelming and incomprehensible power of a literal God. To say something was out of their control was to doubt the very nature of a Gods power. Irosane might be foolish and stubborn, but he knew better than to deny a law of the infinite universe.

Moving forward, it seemed another burial was in order for the husk of a person being cradled in Goddess Nera’s own arms. One to be added to the vast collection of souls long past that she held in her domain. As the husk was laid to rest in the grave prepared for them, Irosane fell to his hands and knees and did now his head as he joined the Goddess in a word of prayer. He himself was to think his own few thoughts of prayer to whatever greater being existed our there, most of it a pathetic begging to be spared of such a shattered fate. That his own soul might wax strong in the face of adversity, and might endure to the end.

All words were said, and all hopes given. When the Icon of Wrath was to raise his Crimson eyes once more, he beheld the name etched upon the stone before him. Rage, Sorrow, and Guilt immediately burst forth in his lack of a heart, poisoning his mind and destroying his faith. Mordred, one of the few chosen that Iro had a predetermined bond with was one of the few to pass. He couldn’t help but mourn for the man that he knew nothing about, save for the determination and strength of his soul. It wasn’t much, but it was enough for Irosane to understand lost potential and a waste of life. Hot tears burned at the corners of his eyes, his fists clenching and digging into the earth.

He’d give anything to have his ally still here among them, even to the point of trading place his own life. But, everything happens for a reason. Irosane was only alive because fate willed it so, and he would not play the fool and deny fate it’s payment. It Mordred would not be here to snuff out and appease whatever threat the Goddess Nera had brought them here for, the Irosane would bring forward the work of two souls to compensate for his allies death. All who stood in the way of making his death worth something would be swiftly cut down by the blades Iro wielded. With this newfound strength, he would pummel his adversary so they might know of the pain he’s already endured in his short day of new existence. They would fall, or they would be on the verge of doing so after somehow subduing the wrathful soul.

“His death will not be in vain. I swear by my own voice as one of the few of thine own champions remaining, that none of those Lost will have perished for nothing. I will do my part in ensuring as much, as well as ensuring that none others are to fall.“

It was a pitiful way of speaking. So much hope but with no reason behind it. How could he even say he’d live long enough to do his own part? Perhaps he’d fall all the same shortly after, to be trodden down into the dirt and to be left behind to be forgotten.

Such thoughts didn’t have much time to linger, as they were cut off by the sobs and sniffles of his fellow companions. Many mourned, rightfully so. The closest of which was the other two of the three souls that Irosane had a strange familiar connection with. Niatiel, the very same soul he had aided in combat during the initial encounter with the Twisted Judge. And Kyo, the brave soul that did not back down when found in a one on one confrontation with the beast. It was obvious mourning on ones own would be far from good, so he opted to approach them.

Wiping his own tears from his face, the soul was to feign a look of bravery as he did stand and approach the two before kneeling down between them. He said nothing, for nothing could be said for their comrade who they knew nothing of. All he did was offer a hand of comfort that he placed on both of their backs. It was a silly gesture, and one he was sure would be met with curious looks. But it was all he could to do try and support his allies still with him.

The others were mourning too, but they weren’t as close and he only had two arms. They’d need to wait their turn.

 

[Euclid Leaf]

...

Vystari approached Kyo, and placed her hand on her shoulder.

"Don't cry. It isn't your fault... if anything, it is mine..." and with those words, Vystari suddenly shed a tear. Her face flushed red. Even though she was trying to be the one to comfort someone, she only ended up embarrassing herself and revealing her own guilt. Her hand retreated back, and she turned away from Kyo. With each heavy breath, she tried to stop the tears. But they wouldn't stop. If only she was stronger.

Vystari shivered, sniffling under her own shame.

Nera watched all of them quietly. The Goddess gave a small, affirming smile, turning to the others with a melodic hum. Her black eyes were soft, despite the startling submerging energy they permeated. She looked at the crying and mourning with a bit of uncertainty. From the reserved way she acted, it seemed like they had seen this countless times. But even still, it all affected the Goddess a great deal. There was a moment of silence as she pondered what to do, also allowing them to take in the death of their friend. But it seemed some of them were able to find the strength to help their fallen allies. Watching this act of kindness uplifted her smile. She rose up, blooming like a flower in the melancholic dew.

When she spoke, the Goddess' words were equally as light and bright.

"Each of my chosen have a purpose, one they carry out even past death. Their lives are all important... Whether or not is may be apparent now." she waded between them, stepping between the tufts of pale grass and looking down at the survivors. Finally, her gaze reached out to the blanketed horizon. One dotted by countless grave-sites. "But fret not my dear little ones. They will live on... in our hearts. As heroes of this... dying world."

The Goddess tilted her head, leaning back and smiling once more. "So smile. They died to ensure that we live on. Let us not take it for granted, their sacrifice."

Dwynn spoke out, from what seemed like forever. His words resonated with a twisted feeling, as if his emotions were in chaos right now.
He sounded almost lost. "So that's it? This mound of roots and dirt... This is our final resting spot? We just fight until we die and end up here? A sacrifice for the next group of souls you so graciously yank from oblivion? What is the point of it all?"

Suddenly, he picked up his spear and aimed it. "If that is so, then why don't I just kill you and take your powers for myself? No more death. No more tears."

Vystari jumped up in defense of The Goddess, her silvered weapon manifesting in her hands as she stood between the two. Her sorrow was replaced by a steeled look of disgust. "Ironic. I could say the same about you. Even on your third life, you wish to foolishly throw it away. When will you learn?"

"Stay your arm, Vystari. This one merely has a question. As promised, I shall answer."

The Goddess looked at him and shook her head, a disappointed expression in her eyes. "Why not take my powers, you ask? Because you can't. You need me. And I need you. We are harmonic, intrinsic in nature. One cannot exist without the other. But don't believe me? Look."

Raising a talon, she slid it against her forearm, and suddenly you all feel a sharp pain. Pale blood dripped from her cut, and by no coincidence each of you see one in the very same place upon your own body. Pale blood now dribbled from a wound on your arms.

Dwynn gazed down at his wound, which bled and showed no signs of closing up. It seemed the healing magic from earlier wasn't in effect. Perhaps, because of the nature of the wound. Though this seemed only to be the case for him, as everyone else soon was relieved from the pain and blood. Still, it seemed he was not convinced.

The blackened lance leaped out of his hands. The tip crashed far beyond, but not before grazing The Goddess. A gash split the flesh on her shoulder, a deep wound. But instead of them all sharing the pain, it was only him. Dwynn began to gurgle as blood pooled in his mouth. He spat, scowling and wiping his mouth. His tattooed shoulder now bore a nasty cut across it, but it was clear he was injured in places deeper than that.

He glared upwards, "So now what? We're puppets in your game? What if I refuse?"

Again, she shook her head. This time opening her arms wide, as though trying to comfort a child throwing a tantrum. "No, you are not puppets. You are all precious. You think that is so easy for me to send out and lose so many? I remember all of them. Their faces, their voices, and their dreams. All so, very precious... I wouldn't do it if I had no other choice... My powers are not infinite. Even now, I feel them fading. Therefore, I must do something while I still can." her voice suddenly shifted to a more serious tone, "But it isn't like I make an unfair offer to any of my chosen. After all, I can't force anyone to fight. It goes against my nature. They must want to. You, of all should know. For those who carry their old memories as manifestations, shackles of regret, there exists a reason beyond just getting a second chance at living again. Isn't there? You wish to venture back to that broken, shattered world. "

The towering figure stepped up to Dwynn, her black eyes swirling. Menacing, "Tell me, do you miss him?"
For once he seemed on the back foot, snarling in anger and frustration, snapping his weapon from its resting spot and turning away from the predatory eyes of the Goddess. As the chain reclined, he made sure to steer the weapon well away from Nera.

"Enough. I understand." he huffed.
A smile returned to her face, "As you wish."

As though his acceptance was what was needed, his wounds would finally begin to magically close.

Then, with a turn of her hand, she pointed to the doorway that lead you all here into this strange place beyond the other reality. Or was this true reality? It was hard to tell with how many different set-pieces that you have all traversed in such a short amount of time. Either way, it seemed like the Goddess wished to go back.

"So do we understand our purpose more clearly now? You all must fight, in order to stop this wicked cycle. So that there may be no more graves to fill. I will not lie, and say this path you must walk will be filled with success and glory. But to overcome all odds, this is what a hero must do. The type of hero this world needs." she explained, while doing a twisting motion with her hand. With each flick of her wrist, it was like she was winding a clock. Suddenly, a ticking motion can be heard. A hollow knock, then a low metric hum. The flower-sprawling courtyard shimmered, and a flash of black spilled from all directions.

It was like you closed your eyes. Just for a mere second. A split fraction of time. In that slipping moment, a flush of cold springs from deep inside of you. It pulls through you and you feel like you had just been dragged into a body of deep water.

Then, all of a sudden, each of you are standing back in the main atrium. You are greeted again by the annals of hallways leading to mystery and the dim slit of the fading red star far above. But it was not the same as you remember. At the center of everything was a torn, broken stairway. It appeared to have pushed everything out of the way and grew from the very stonework of the lost temple. With steps that went both upwards and downwards. But standing there, against the railing that guarded the edge, you can tell that the steps leading down ended quick. And there was nothing but a dark pit into the abyss. Upwards seemed no different. Leading to nowhere. What even was the point of it? But surely, there had to be a point.

Now sitting far above in the archways, The Goddess' body was obscured by the darkness and bloom of the flushed red. The sight was familiar. It was like you had awoken for the first time all over again. And there she spoke, pointing to the red cut in the sky that looked like a serpent's eye staring back.

"Did you know? When a star dies, it leaves an everlasting void. A ceaseless horizon that swallows all. Even light cannot escape its unending appetite. A place were reality is shattered, utterly and wholly... But there is a law that remains constant. An intrinsic law to the universe. All consequences must be caused by an action. A prime source. A proprietor. Do you wonder what lies at the very core of this transcendent darkness? The very root of calamity? That is your ultimate destination, my chosen. To find a way to the epicenter of the collapsing universe, and reverse the chaos that has erupted in the waves of the dying stars."

The Goddess turns back, whipping her legs and looking down. Her black eyes suddenly shine with a bright light. With her silhouette blackening every feature, they looked like a pair of stars.

"The Judge was but the first of many whom you will have to face. He is only the beginning. I'm sure you were told this, while he still retained his humanity. But let me ask this of all of you, before I go on any further. What is a 'God' to you?"​

...

 

[Juju]

It was dark inside Niatiel, but she did not realize just how forlorn she was until she felt Iro's hand on her back. The gesture was a simple one, and yet it gave greater comfort than any words ever could. Nia lifted her head from her arms, taking a moment to wipe away the strands of hair that had stuck to the wetness around her eyes. Even if Iro was putting on a brave face, it didn't seem that way for Nia. All she could see was pure strength and made her dare to think that she herself could be strong.

"Why Mordred? He was so strong, a fighter..." She choked on the words, but behind her eyes, all she could see was that burning light that had reached into the abyss to save her, like a golden chain. "Why didn't he get a second chance?"

Why did she? A shiver ran up Niatiel's thin form, fresh tears running hot down her face. If not for the soul beside her then she would have been in a grave beside Mordred, or perhaps in his place.

Niatiel looked at Irosane, the gold of her eyes misty from sorrow. She wanted to thank him, but her throat tightened, making even the act of breathing painful. So instead she pivoted around and quickly tucked herself under Iro's arm, grabbing him in a tight hug and pressing her face into his robes. As she clung onto Iro she listened to the goddess' words, eager to believe that the wisp and the wolf had not died for nothing.

She remained huddled against Iro, even when Dwynn confronted the goddess, until Nera made the shared wound. The sharp pain made her recoil away from Iro with a muted whimper. She grabbed her wrist in alarm, gasping at the open wound and the pale blood seeping steadily from it. Fortunately, as quickly as the wound was created it was sealed up, though the same could not be said for Dwynn. Niatiel watched in horror as he threw his spear at Nera, grazing her shoulder. Strangely, she didn't seem to be bothered by it, but Dwynn had blood dripping from his mouth and clearly in pain

"Dwynn..." she muttered worriedly, wanting to go to him but too afraid to do so.

She was afraid he was going to die, but when he accepted Nera's words he was healed. Breathing a sigh of relief, Nia turned back to look at Mordred's grave while listening to the goddess. The only way to stop the cycle was the break it, though the only way to do that was to fight. Dread gnawed at her as she thought back to her shattered dagger. How could she? Even with all of their strength three of her allies had died against a single foe. Nia chewed on her lip. She couldn't give up, Mordred never would. They had to fight for him... and the fallen judge.

As the flowers began to fade away Nia took one last look at the grave and whispered, "Goodbye Mordred..."

When the surroundings changed Nia took a moment to take it in. It looked like the place she had woken up in, but different. She looked for the goddess but didn't notice her up on the archway until she spoke.

"A god?" Nia said, tilting her head thoughtfully.

As she pondered on this she held the plucked flower close to her chest and looked down at its bright petals. She didn't really have any specific memories to form a concept of 'gods', except for that horrible dream. They had shrieked and attacked her...did that mean gods were a bad thing? No, that couldn't be true. Nera was a goddess and she was helping them. Gods were good, and those people were not real anyway. She dismissed the faces, but she could still hear the raspy voices in the back of her head, feel a tingle where her skin had burned. Godwoken...godwoken...

Nia had a small frown on her face when she finally came up with her answer. "A watcher? Someone that guides the lost, mends the broken and... gives hope when there is none..." Her voice trailed off somewhat and she kept her eyes to the ground, feeling suddenly reluctant to meet Nera's gaze. Was that the wrong answer?

"Nera? Can I ask you a question too?" she tentatively asked, "What was the Judge's name? D-did he have one?"

 

[Lekiel]

The auburn-haired woman followed the group along impassively, though a hint of intrigue coloured upon her facade, reflected in a glimmer of her emerald green eyes. The place seemed like a mixture of a dream and nightmare, if she could remember what those were like. A surreality that brought a light feathering against her heart, as did each and every new experience beheld since she awoke. It wasn't as if she'd been here before, she couldn't have. But each tiny detail, brought with it new sensations, feelings that evoke figments of memories within the still murky depths of her mind.

Thus, it was when they stopped to revere their fallen fellow wisp, that a twisted mix of emotions flitted across her features. As she watched each tear shed, a mask of concern grew on her brow, or perhaps... disdain. The name of the fallen one held no meaning to the Kal`Borian, anymore than she would remark upon the dusty floor that had broken her fall into the abyss. Broken her fall, but a floor nonetheless.

"Mordred" A breath of whisper uttered from her lips, before confusion marred her face.

She knew his name. Nothing else. Their time together had been fleeting, barely considered a moment in the grand scale of things. And she was sure it was the same for the others. In fact, as she watched those that had shed tears, she realized that they all were bearers of the silver shards. They gave up their memories... The suspicion suddenly struck her, remembering the circumstances through she once again knew existence in the presence of Nera. But the revelation did nothing but grow her confusion, and now, contempt that she felt for the others. Could they not bear such a minuscule loss? It was true, that Mordred had fought with them, aided them in his chosen way. But this was nothing compared to the feelings of anguish she knew lurked beneath the surface of knowing within her mind. Perhaps when you remembered nothing, you'd more easily mourn the loss of the first thing you see.

She turned away from the pitiful sight, her eyes scanning the endless gravestones that stretched to the horizon. At the very least, it seemed Nera truly knew loss. It sobered Brielle's incredulity for the others just a little bit.

There was a brief altercation between Dwynn and the Goddess, one which caused Brielle to flinch as she felt the gash against her forearm. She did not protest, far too distracted by every word the Goddess spoke, answering the burning questions that festered her mind, but yet creating even more.

"A God... is a name given by others to those whose presence they cannot yet understand." Brielle uttered.

They were now back at the original chamber. Nera's sudden question brought with it another memory, a vision of a vast desecrated plain, as if the watcher floated from on high. Mountains were sundered, forests turned to ash. The wails of the dying keening in the smoldering wind.

"They will never know it..." Brielle's voice faded away as her gaze grew distant.

Until they try...

 

[seasonedcat]

Kyo tried to smother her sobs with her hands so that the others didn't hear her, but it failed as Vystari noticed. At Vystari's comment on how it was her fault Kyo's face morphed into one of confusion. How could it be her fault? She wasn't the one who got controlled by her weapon and couldn't help the others as they were at risk for falling to death. She didn't let her anger control her and let the others suffer alone.

How could this be her fault? Kyo shook her head. They all had her reason to blame themselves, she wasn't herself in that fight, maybe it really was Vystari's fault, she wouldn't really know. Not to mention all the others here were being strong, what gave her the right to cry over this while the others weren't. She had to be strong like them. She couldn't let herself be weak like this and end up being controlled by her weapon again.

Kyo whipped her tears off her cheeks and let out deep breathes. Her sadness beginning to calm down as she let out deep breathes. Kyo frowned as Dwynn began to yell at the Goddess. It didn't matter what he said, this was their fates now. It was much easier and took much less energy to just accept it as that fact. Why bother making such a big deal over something that they can not change? It was just a waste of time and energy.

To her surprise, when the goddess scratched her arm the wound was also on Kyo's arm. This meant that they couldn't hurt the goddess without dying. This also means that they couldn't kill her without dying. If one of her allies got fed up with this or forgot that fact, could end up killing them all. But she guesses it made sense that the Goddess would have some measures in place to protect herself against them if not, they might be able to kill her.

Kyo's eye widens as their location changed, not having expected the sudden change in location. Kyo glanced at the Goddess as she began to talk again. She frowned at the comment that they'd have to face beasts like the one from earlier again. Kyo frowned at the answers to what a god was, "A God. There is no such thing as a god. Gods are just things people made up so that society didn't lose hope and understand that life is pointless. There is no such thing. There is no God, and you are not one either. You are just someone who may have great power, but you are no God. And if there were Gods, they gave up on people like us and worlds like this long ago."