Balast returned, the hatred of the conclave now a seething rage in his heart.  Around him fire began to erupt, his latent abilities flaming out into the world once more, light and flames erupting from outside space itself.  He turned and began to search for the remains of the inn looking for the power it had once contained.  It was the last shard of Raelis and he would need all twelve to finish this for all time.  The void sang to him, calling him home to finish time itself and its siren call had never seemed sweeter.

The inn was gone, cast to ruin, and whatever Balast was hoping to find was gone with it. Perhaps the inn had been taken by the wild earth, reclaimed by the dying Realm.

As Balast was searching, however, he saw something immediately curious.. in the distance, it looked like a small storm composed of many different coloured lights. The storm seemed familiar, somehow..

Balast made his way towards teh storm.  He racked his memories both those of Raelis and the strange half memories of his own searching for a link to this storm.  Was it a representation of the power that had resided within the inn or was it related to his own origins, to his birthplace?

Perhaps it was neither.

As Balast made across the molten scrag and shattered rock, slowly but surely reaching the strange, multihued storm, he felt a sense of anticipation: as if he were meeting an long alienated friend. Within the storm he heard a cacophony of sounds.. the howling of laughter, cracking of strange words, screams of pain.. there were more colours, each one growing brighter and softer as dictated by the unseen logic behind the tempest, then Balast could count..

Balast walked slowly up to the storm.

"Colour so not the void, pain so not of law."

He laughed suddenly.

"Amusing, not what I would have expected.  Some sort of unbounded reality implosion?  Direct funneled essence?  Do you have a name you call yourself?"

The cocophany howled and screeched, swirling about, a storm of colours and ideas; finally, however, Balast could make out a single word being repeated, a familiar word..

Sasocles..

At Balast's presence, the storm seemed to become wilder, untamed.

"So your wards worked in a fashion then?  Just couldn't keep your basic form from being destroyed?  Well then I suppose we're back where we were before except that as you will be only too aware I can't heal you in any way.  Destruction never helps in that form.  Creation could have made you a new body but he's ages dead.  However his essence isn't dead yet and I might just possibly be able to do something if I can retrieve enough of it.  That however is completely dependant on me merging with the real Balast which means getting to the city of Alkan which ought to be a place which you are familiar with.  Help me and I will endeavour to help you.  I'd need to do a lot of divination but I suspect you've got infected with my own energies.  Introduction of sufficient creation essence should correct the problem but I can't get the items without my power.  Willing to help?"

No..

The creature was tortured, a collection of strange, powerful energies, each one clashing and reverberating upon one another, creating the obscene tempest upon Litheris. Balast gains a sense that this was the result of a magical ritual, of sorts, but as a Dabbler can't even comprehend what could have caused it.

"As helpful as that statement is I think I may be going to need some more information."

Balast turned and sat down.

"You don't help me and you're stuck like this until the tree goes to dust and you and every other being on the tree are destroyed apart from me.  You help me you get a chance to live and every being on the tree gets a chance to live apart from me as I am destroyed.  Tell me what you are or I go now and never return.  I have only a fading sense of loyalty to the tree holding me in this place and that is a frail branch to be basing your existence on.  What are you and can you help me?"

Come.. come within..

The tempest's heated colours suddenly cooled down, becoming almost pleasant, and the storm seemed to calm a little. It almost seemed like it wanted to embrace Balast - wanted the God to wander within.

Balast stood, squared his shoulders, shrugged and walked into the swirling colours.

Balast felt his life leave him, but not to the Realm of Rivers: no. He felt it shift..

Where.. to go..

"The shrine of nothing in Alkan.  The prison of Destruction and the last hope of the tree."
This message was last edited by the player at 14:24, Wed 03 Feb 2010.

It.. is.. it is done..

There was the sound of roaring thunder - a thousand indescribable lights - a perfect majesty..

Balast felt his entire conscious be thrown upwards, faster, faster, faster, until everything was a rush, a blur, until..

Until he awoke in a certain rocky outcrop outside the Bridge of Alkan. Sasocles couldn't take Balast the whole way, but most of the task had been done..

(Continue posting in RP YGGDRASIL: The City of Alkan)

Home..

Phantasmagorical Master Max stood beside the Fierce God.

"You called me here. What for, my demon?"

"Do you recall the virtues?"

"Rings a bell, yet can't tell the tone."

"Six gods, six heroes. The other three are mere spirits now. You know for who I am?"

"I confess I do not. You have been careful to remain rather anonymous."

"I am the fusion of two halves and a whole. I am Rizzun of Eo, Rizzun of Yggdrasil, and Dragon of Yggdrasil."

"A fusion? Of the soul? Impossible. Souls are indivisible."<blue>

"There are.. techniques. Old ones, black ones. Osiris-Ra was a practitioner. It is a gesture of ultimate nonduality.."

<blue>"Is that why you have brought me to this blasted wasteland? For us to become one? Why would I desire this?"

"Your inner bonds have broken, yet you are still chained, a conclave dog. You would serve this tree? Then accept no lesser master. Join with me, and belie your oath; and gain enough power to perhaps Ascend.. or to destroy Osiris-Ra."

Max was silent, thinking.

"How does one go about this?"

"There is a ritual, and six trials.."

Thunder booms across Litheris as the two talk. It rains black ash. The rock beneath them has been twisted, devastated by whatever apocalypse this bleak land has seen.

   The winds of light and darkness swirled.

    The Avatar of Vengeance faces the Avatar of Mercy.

     Virtue and Vice joined against the Chaos that would consume them both;

       The Ritual- a final nail in the coffin of Osiris-Ra? - began.

       Holy words and Infernal incantations were voiced;

        They called to the Primoridals, as these gods consummated their birthright.


 " It is the end of all hope
To lose the child, the faith
To end all the innocence
To be someone like me
This is the birth of all hope
To have what I once had
This life unforgiven
It will end with a birth

None will to wake for this morn
To see another black rose born
Deathbed is slowly covered with snow

Angels, they fell first but I'm still here
Alone as they are drawing near
In heaven my masterpiece will finally be sung

Mandylion without a face
Deathwish without a prayer
End of hope
End of love
End of time
The rest is silence."

And it was done. The voices were one, the blades paired; Ka and Ha fused; only one Ba remained.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:31, Wed 14 July 2010.

The fusion was not complete. Not yet.

Lightning struck the blurred forms of Fierce God and Max. Black stone creaked under the weight of the ritual. Ancient taboos were broken.

All was consumed in darkness, and they were gone.

(Continue posting in RP NOBLE: The Final Sacrarium for your Six Trials)

I returned, another thunderbolt striking the same spot.

I out reached my arms, calling to this dead realm, the scraps of what remained; I am a God of Fantasy, and I know your ways; I will safeguard the seed within another realm, that it may grow as prosperous as this place once was; another realm, one cut and bare, as split as this one. I called to the Seed.

PM

(Thanks, Alliel. Noted.)

Max called and called and yelled and commanded and screamed his words against the blackened sky wrought with lightning. Blistered stone crumbled from underneath his feet. No Seed came. None would heed his halls.

So much for trying to be helpful.

I settled down to my real task: The creation of a mastercrafted Diamond, Opal, Emerald, and Ruby, to start with.

I outstretched my arms, and called upon the power of Myth: Images of legends and folklore long lost and still recalled whirled around me, morals and indignities; I focused on one myth: That of the Ninja.

Diamond, for spiritual strength;
Opal, for intuition;
Emerald, for understanding;
Ruby, for Ninpo.

I concentrated, shaping the four gems carefully with tiny blades of divinity..

Max found that he was very quickly exhausted. Nearly all of his energies, as mighty as they may be, were being used elsewhere. Possibly just to survive. He succeeded in forming the first, crude Diamond, but soon felt weariness descend over him. He needed to rest.. he needed to work in a more stable environment.

I opened a portal, and stepped through to Xi. The ritual was done, and I could return home.

There was the crashing of thunder - a creature, immortal, caught in light and sound - a thousand colours dancing - the death of a fox - help us, Max, help us -

And he was there.