Post by Cephrian on May 30, 2005 22:05:16 GMT -5
The battle had waged on for weeks. Neither of them gained an advantage. Their powers had waxed and waned in the time, between sunrises and sunsets. They have moved from their most powerful spells, to melee, to close quarters combat, to psionic powers, to divine powers, and back again. Each new turn and step in their dance an orchestrated and calculated stroke, a move in chess. With feints and poised attacks, with ambushes and slights of power. The last two warriors of the game had fought on, through blistering heat and cutting wind and endless snows of a thousand worlds dead from the chaos and oblivion that truest war will bring to a living universe.
He had forgotten how to speak. Conversation was not a requisite of battle. It was a useless skill in this place. Those who talked, died. And as swiftly as their blood met the air and dissipated into a thousand jeweled spirals of essence, 3 more ran up to meet their destroyers. And so, the cycle went on, defining the truest nature of battle. The nature of slaughter and submission. In a Game held on the chessboard of an entire universe. Where each piece grew and swelled, and was cut down. Where each swing of the blade could be your last. Each breath was held in infinite silence, drawn deep from within to echo outwards as the final one - the death rattle. Each man waiting at the edge of the cliffs of mortality, to plunge forever into the slumber of death.
The blade slid easily inbetween two folds of his opponnent's armor. Too easily. Was it a feint? Was it a ruse? Was he dead? Thousands of worries and questions flooded Cephrian's mind as the flesh underneath the armor separated. The bones cracked and split apart, shards flew into internal organs, and internal bleeding flooded the chest cavity. Soon after, his opponnent's eyes widened as he understood, the piercing steel cooling him from the inside out. The weapon thieved his essence from within him, drawing his soul like poison from a wound. Cephrian's opponnent withered away, fell to the ground in a pile of ash, so that naught but his armor remained. And in this moment, Cephrian closed his eyes for the first time in two weeks, and smiled. His task, his fealty, was complete. Over three milennia he had been trapped here, the lifeblood of the universe sapped and drawn from within him, he had not known this peace.
The instant Cephrian's crown fell to the ground, a flash of brilliant goldenrod waves echoed on the distances of his vision and played a harpsichord melody in his ears. The soft potion poured into his eyes, revirbirating within the halls of his mind so that his memories stirred and returned to him. Within the majestic sounds and smells and sights that befell him, a voice echoed in his mind, and through every volume of the universe he had resided in for oh so long.
"Cephrian, you were charged with the sentence of eternal battle until death or victory in Terrinus. As this is the custom that we have set forth for breaking the Divine Law of our religion, we have been successful. And so have you." A form reached out from the dark expanses of the astral plane, drawing itself from many places, pieces of the grand Tapestry weaving together to form the One. The Alpha and Omega. The First and the Last. The Beginning and the End. And in His grand majesty, Cephrian bowed. His head fell down, his beard and hair falling low to the ground, gathering dust in the sands of his most recent battlefield.
"I am now humbled before the last and greatest master of our Endgame. I bestow upon you all of those powers that belong to you, as our champion. Return home, and live your life." The words were small, and left much impact for their length. As concise as His words were, so was His exit. Of course, He needed little introduction as the Creator of this universe.
Cephrian's eyes closed, and opened once. And in that instance, the world around him seemed to shrink together under his feet, drawing into smoke at his feet. Dark, obsidian smoke that curled around him in lazy fingers. His lower half soon mirrored the form, and he smiled. His final smile to give to this place. This dead place, that he had destroyed. And in that instance, the smoke imploded, and took him with it. Back to home. Back... ...to Ulster.
Of course, Cephrian required much more in the way of introduction.
He had forgotten how to speak. Conversation was not a requisite of battle. It was a useless skill in this place. Those who talked, died. And as swiftly as their blood met the air and dissipated into a thousand jeweled spirals of essence, 3 more ran up to meet their destroyers. And so, the cycle went on, defining the truest nature of battle. The nature of slaughter and submission. In a Game held on the chessboard of an entire universe. Where each piece grew and swelled, and was cut down. Where each swing of the blade could be your last. Each breath was held in infinite silence, drawn deep from within to echo outwards as the final one - the death rattle. Each man waiting at the edge of the cliffs of mortality, to plunge forever into the slumber of death.
The blade slid easily inbetween two folds of his opponnent's armor. Too easily. Was it a feint? Was it a ruse? Was he dead? Thousands of worries and questions flooded Cephrian's mind as the flesh underneath the armor separated. The bones cracked and split apart, shards flew into internal organs, and internal bleeding flooded the chest cavity. Soon after, his opponnent's eyes widened as he understood, the piercing steel cooling him from the inside out. The weapon thieved his essence from within him, drawing his soul like poison from a wound. Cephrian's opponnent withered away, fell to the ground in a pile of ash, so that naught but his armor remained. And in this moment, Cephrian closed his eyes for the first time in two weeks, and smiled. His task, his fealty, was complete. Over three milennia he had been trapped here, the lifeblood of the universe sapped and drawn from within him, he had not known this peace.
The instant Cephrian's crown fell to the ground, a flash of brilliant goldenrod waves echoed on the distances of his vision and played a harpsichord melody in his ears. The soft potion poured into his eyes, revirbirating within the halls of his mind so that his memories stirred and returned to him. Within the majestic sounds and smells and sights that befell him, a voice echoed in his mind, and through every volume of the universe he had resided in for oh so long.
"Cephrian, you were charged with the sentence of eternal battle until death or victory in Terrinus. As this is the custom that we have set forth for breaking the Divine Law of our religion, we have been successful. And so have you." A form reached out from the dark expanses of the astral plane, drawing itself from many places, pieces of the grand Tapestry weaving together to form the One. The Alpha and Omega. The First and the Last. The Beginning and the End. And in His grand majesty, Cephrian bowed. His head fell down, his beard and hair falling low to the ground, gathering dust in the sands of his most recent battlefield.
"I am now humbled before the last and greatest master of our Endgame. I bestow upon you all of those powers that belong to you, as our champion. Return home, and live your life." The words were small, and left much impact for their length. As concise as His words were, so was His exit. Of course, He needed little introduction as the Creator of this universe.
Cephrian's eyes closed, and opened once. And in that instance, the world around him seemed to shrink together under his feet, drawing into smoke at his feet. Dark, obsidian smoke that curled around him in lazy fingers. His lower half soon mirrored the form, and he smiled. His final smile to give to this place. This dead place, that he had destroyed. And in that instance, the smoke imploded, and took him with it. Back to home. Back... ...to Ulster.
Of course, Cephrian required much more in the way of introduction.