RE: Deity - The Breath of Creation

3:18 Fear



3:18 Fear

The Hidden Realm was dark, and damp, and filled with all kinds of nasty energy that made the Rival’s skin crawl. Spirit stones of all shapes and sizes jutted out from the walls, which were made of a strange, sticky black substance he was afraid to touch. Not because it might be dangerous, but rather because it just looked slimy and nasty, and for as long as he had lived icky things were still icky. To top it off, this entire place was probably pretty dangerous, if the tree spirit currently inhabiting him and letting him borrow its cultivation’s fears were anything to take seriously.But it’s not like they could go anywhere, either. So far as he was aware, they were stuck in this Hidden Realm - because that's the only thing it could be, right? The Rival bent and picked up a little stone made of pure wind energy, examining it closely, feeling the dormant qi laying within it. The Treant’s soul hissed in his ear.

“There’s really not anywhere to go.” He drawled slowly, rubbing his shoulder and pocketing the stone, eyeing a spirit stone of fire that was the size of his head. Y’know, he hadn’t really decided on an element to use in this life; but fire was so overdone that he was kind of sick of it at the moment. Maybe after a few more lifetimes he’d find it cool again…

The Treant’s words echoed in his ears like leaves brushing against each other in the wind, a gentle, worried sound that filled his mind with thoughts of pain and death. For a moment the Rival was confused about what it was talking about, then looked down at himself in realization. His clothes were tattered. Blood dripped in a steady stream out of his nose, droplets blooming like red flowers on the black stone beneath his feet. A chunk of wood was embedded in the skin of his forearm, and he knew his hair must look a mess.

To top it all off, it felt like his cultivation was about to burst. No matter how fantastic and strong-willed he was, he couldn’t overcome the limits of a weak body, especially when an immortal-level soul was pumping power through said body.

Thankfully, he was awesome, and knew how to channel that power for maximum efficiency and minimum damage. Still meant he’d be laid up for a little while afterward the immortal spirit of the Treant left him, though, and he wasn’t quite ready for the crash. There might still be things to do.

The Treant’s concern was touching, but he still had a few minutes left before his cultivation imploded.

“You sound like my therapist. ‘Take care of your body.’ ‘You’ll feel better if you quit.’ ‘I'm not dating you no matter how charming you are.’ Sheesh.” Though his words were harsh and joking in nature, he still smiled and sent a wave of appreciation toward the Treant’s soul for the concern. But he had to make it to shelter first, before he allowed it to leave and collapsed from exhaustion. A shriek of triumph had him turning around to behold the battleground – entire swaths of the long cavern hall they’d found themselves in were torn asunder, trees growing where once there was none. Life magic was so much fun to wield; making forests grow from nothing never got old.

Many of those plants were shattered into a thousand pieces, the life energy that made them up spreading out in to meld with the ambient qi of the Hidden Realm. But the Rival only had eyes for the little bird, standing atop the two prone bodies lying amidst the wreckage, bleeding from multiple places and bound with a type of wood so dense and strong, even immortals could not break it. Scorch marks lined their skin like stripes from where the immortal bird paced across their bodies, embers falling from its feathers and smoke curling from its beak. The two evil, devil-cultivator immortals, beat down and properly restrained like the worthless dogs they were.

The Rival yawned.

That’s what they get for messing with him.

He liked that old man, dammit.

And the bird is cool too, he supposed.

Now, where the hell was the exit? He looked up and around, casting about for the portal they’d fallen through – no one had questioned that they were going to fight in here, the real question had been where everything had He’d felt those dark spirits that had been around when he'd first challenged the devil cultivators. Hells, the Treant had him about the spirits. But the moment they were dragged down into the abyss or Hidden Realm or whatever it was called, they up and vanished.

Spooky.

Another squawk drew his attention back to the bird, the immortal, elemental woman having spit on it. It puffed up, fire spilling from its feathers as it prepared to incinerate them.

“Hey, leave them be. I have a couple questions for them…bird.” He said lamely, knowing that an immortal bird likely had a name but didn’t know what it was. Said bird shot him a glare, eyes glowing coal-orange with anger. What were his questions again? Right, he had a few immortals held captive, it would be remiss of him not to interrogate them about the world at large. They seemed like the arrogant type. That should be easy enough to handle.

It – The voice was that of a girl’s – snapped. The Rival held up his hands defensively.

“Sorry, sorry, my bad Sola – oh shit.” His instincts alone were what kept him from panicking and killing himself right then and there, to save his skin. Because out of everyone, he alone could feel it coming.

It wasn’t through qi. It wasn’t through whatever immortal senses you gained upon becoming an immortal. And it certainly wasn’t due to any Monkey Wrench bullshit – which had largely been suppressed in this lifetime. It was solely because he had an uncountable number of years of battle experience that he was able to avoid being slaughtered by what came next.

And that was only by standing perfectly, perfectly still.

here?” the voice was at once soothing and domineering, echoing through the Rival’s mind and around the entirety of the chamber. A shiver ran down his spine, blood running cold in a way that rarely ever happened to him anymore, as a passed through the cavern, hissing and clicking as it went. Foul miasma spilled across the ground like a mist, clinging to the spirit stones, muting even their power – it didn’t smell like death, or decay.

It was cold, in a way only the Void could be, and echoed with the relentless march of Time.

The voice came from everywhere and nowhere, each word slow and methodically pronounced, rhythmic like the ticking of a clock. The Rival remained stock still, even the Treant silent as the dead, as slowly padded by. It was a dog, a wolf, whose head maybe reached chest-height. Its fur was grey and black, eight spidery limbs sprouting from its back. It did not so much as glance at him as it padded by.

The Rival thought, counting the seconds that slowly passed. His only saving grace was he hadn’t given the being a reason to pay attention to him yet – assuming him beating the crap out of those two didn’t qualify.

Solana shrieked again, puffing – only to freeze in place, its fires stilling in the moment as it was frozen in space and time.

It cackled, coming to sit directly in front of the two immortals. The Rival licked his lips and took a careful step back, then froze in place as it glanced at him. The wolf’s head had eight eyes upon it, red like a spiders, and only one was needed to fix him in place. Its teeth bared themselves ever so slightly and the Rival cursed, watching as Solana’s fires slowly flickered in reverse.

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Beings that could control time were among his least favorite to deal with, much less one as powerful as this – and with a hint of too.

He knew what Void felt like. It was one of the few dangers to a Monkey Wrench. If this little shard-soul of his got infected with void-madness or utterly destroyed by the void, not only would he lose his entire memories of this lifetime, but the infection may spread to his main soul. He’d seen it happen before. He'd had to put down Monkey Wrenches like that. It was never pretty.

“What…are you…?” the elemental girl, Terra she said her name was, gasped. The being chuckled low and deep, shaking its head.

It snarled.

“You are…Morgan…” the Terra woman breathed suddenly, eyes going wide. “The Great Defier. I thought you were struck down, a myth –“ she was cut off by a single spider-like leg slamming down in front of her face.

It snapped.

“Never.” Terra spat.

“Uh, dear – “

Morgan hissed, leaning its face closer. “

The Rival wondered, sweat beading his brow. He didn’t have all that much time left until the Treant’s soul exploded his cultivation, and it was really starting to hurt. But he might need its power to escape…if that was even possible.

Morgan turned to the bird then, cocking its head to the side as she struggled against the time magic cast against it.

The Rival felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end the moment it said that, sweat practically pouring from his forehead. He slowly reached into his back pocket to grab the talisman, even if he wasn’t certain it would do any good – and the Shadow’s gaze snapped to him.

Taking that as permission to speak, he did, carefully taking a step back. “Look, sorry for intruding, I didn’t mean to interfere with…whatever this was, so if I could, I’d really like to be on my way. I just gotta find Sylvia –“

The name made Morgan twitch, one ear perking up, and the Rival immediately crushed the talisman stone to activate it. Only, nothing happened. Space seemed to freeze, time passing at a crawl as the Shadow fixated all eight eyes upon him.

it said, eyes narrowing at him.

“UHHHHH,”

Morgan stalked forward with each word, the Rival’s panic rising with every passing moment. act as I please.” And it lunged.

For a split second, the Rival thought he was dead. The wolf’s maw opened, revealing darkness and death, the Void itself in its stomach, intent upon eradicating him.

But the moment never came. Space shattered. Time was rent asunder. And a girl with nine swishing fox tails came hurtling into the fray, a staff of solid bronze piercing the air between the Rival and Morgan. The Shadow’s fangs impacted upon the staff, a ringing clear as a bell echoing in the chamber.

“Yo!” she said happily, flipping over the staff and tossing the Shadow to the side along with it. Solana shrieked. Time resumed its normal pace. And as Morgan stood, hackles raised, the nine-tailed fox girl saluted at him. “I’m Kei! And it’s…time to run!”

***

“Seriously? This is what makes you become a Pillar? Gods damn it, Kei.” I demanded, slapping my hands upon my knees, drawing me fully out of my meditations. Had she not managed to break through Morgan’s barrier I would have made a move myself – there was no way I was going to let Morgan destroy my friend’s soul…even if it was just a soul-shard. But that idiot should have been more careful.

Is what I would like to say, but how was he supposed to know Morgan would do that?

My eyes narrowed as Kei promptly scooped up the Rival, darted over to Solana to grab her, and promptly ran screaming out of the Hidden Realm, Morgan hot on her heels. She’d managed to block its strike so easily only because it had been an incarnation of Morgan, but now she’d managed to piss it off and it was coming at her full-power. I stood from my seat, a bit of my own power flexing as I glared down at the escaping trio, Kei laughing like a madwoman as she ran. Her power rolled from her in waves, the freedom of her existence – to live and be as free as she wished, to play and prank, unchained by space and time – melding and bolstered by the steadiness of Randus’ own power, and adding a touch of balance to the weight and strength of Gilles’.

And it gave her the power to flee from Morgan. Uncontainable. Uncontrollable. That was Kei.

“Hey Gramps, watch this!” Kei shouted, looking directly at me and promptly vanishing, for the briefest of moments, from my sight. My eyes narrowed in shock, even as I caught sight of her again halfway across the Hidden Realm – Morgan skidded to a halt, howling its rage to the skies.

“Ok, that was impressive.” I admitted, though that she’d been able to escape my sight for even just a moment was worrying in a few ways. She had been training for it since before the Sun War so she could prank me, but…still.his choice is even better than before. The others will not approve.”

“No, they will not.” I told it. Morgan nodded then, all rage and anger gone.

“Good. Do not –“

“Do not.” I interrupted, firmly, not wishing to discuss the topic further. “Touch the Rival again. He is a guest in our house and will be treated as such; you will not break the rules of hospitality. Do I make myself clear?” Morgan’s ears flattened on the back of its head, scowling, eyes narrowing as they met my own. Without another word it spat and turned away, stalking back through the Hidden Realm. I nodded to myself, and turned my attention, briefly, back to Kei and the Rival.

That was a meeting that was bound to go poorly. Kei had been tracking him for years, and now she was...healing his wounds? Huh. She hadn’t interrogated him yet, even as he chattered on, full of nervous energy. The Treant’s soul returned to the cycle of reincarnation, the duo who had been rebelling were free of their bonds and now wandered the Hidden Realm, and Solana and Kei were hitting it off like old friends. But my attention was mostly on the Rival.

I had never seen the Rival that scared of anything. The fear that had colored his soul upon meeting Morgan was so clear, so bright it was impossible to miss…he hadn’t even been that scared back when he’d been threatened by a crazed fan, back on Earth. Now I knew why, but still…

I hated seeing him like that. I’d have to send him an apology, but that will be a bit later, I think.

There was a meeting coming up between Origin Deities again. Gilles would have to come. I think Keilan should as well.


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