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[Book II: Allyse Ascendance]


The Stolen Memories: 00921
Day 00921, Lumindi, Of the 2nd Hour

“Like stars, like stars, like stars...” Those were his words before the Consortium, Criexdrian explaining the importance of establishing a central power. The court of Pures looked upon him with varying dimensions of skepticism, their white ornate tunics shimmering with certain uncertainty itself.

The Pures were not entirely accepting. Normally the swirl of their central color would glow with approval, but here they were cool, tentative.

The young God stood at the center of the stone court, his face a storm of desperation and contempt.
“You misinterpret me, my fellow gods.”
He turned to them with a glowing ardor in his bright silver eyes, “Stars to a nebula, a galaxy to the universe. You can see quite plainly that there exists a hierarchy that we've ourselves help establish.”
Silence pervaded. “What I propose is that we unify ourselves, like these luminaries, to become one higher form.”

He paused, letting any words set in. “What I propose is that we give this privilege of forces united to a capable, ambitious god, with the merits to hold the collected power. No longer are the days of catastrophic err on the world Aeternum below us, but perfection, and harmony.”

The Pures looked among themselves with varying luminosities, searching for an answer that would satisfy the youngling's ambitions.

Unfortunately, nothing they could say would sate the God of Logic, his lip curling back in defiance of his handsome face, his once-controlled yellow-blue hair falling into his eyes, graceless; his angled jawline met a square, sky bound chin. His skin, the color of sun dried wheat was now dour with his all too forward composure.

I watched this from my throne in the outer ring of the room, Pures center, Deities next, and Gods third.
Leaning forward in my marble chair, with eyes of worry. Here, I, the God of Frost, was more perturbed than ever, squirming in my chair as irrationality would inspire.

After that meeting, the perfect postures of the Consortium had been altered. There was a silent secret in the air, they all knew it, they could all feel it.

What Criexdrian would imagine next for the Consortium, only a certain few could see, and even fewer would survive to tell the tale...

This is the first day of the Siege.

Criexdrian's first strike came a year after that fateful meeting. No doubt he had been amassing power since then.

We could feel the balance in the air shift-- the sudden disappearance of young demi-gods was the first sign, then after that, the lowest Orders of gods receded permanently, into the graying yesterday.

When he at last came for us, we were no match for the power that he exerted, a will-defying aura made all beneath it understand his wrath. When one stood before the New Criexdrian, in volition bent, one could only bow to his might or, in broken defiance, stop and weep.

I've sent an Envoy to my son, I do believe, perhaps blindly, that he will escape unharmed.

As for myself, I shall stay behind with the other Gods, to slow down Criexdrian's madness...

I entertain the idea of living.

Froxxaleus, Elder God, Of the 2



[Days of the Scholar: 00169]

[Arrulien Airae]

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