**
No longer Sunlord, no longer shouting ; They let Their light speak for itself. This new being is simply Sun, and a new day is dawning. This new priest pleases Us.
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"Think you the Dark has any power on this day? Think you the pitiful absence of light has any dominion of the Light Itself?"
When Volcano makes ready to begin the day, the teakettle from Samen's pack erupts in sound and light.
As this speech gains momentum (and volume), a pinpoint of light, so painfully bright the color is difficult to see, expands into the space between Temple and Phoenix.
Like a vivid illusion (only humbling and real), the Dark pulls back from directly above you, revealing a sight to make your eyes water - a piercing blue-green Sky, like an ocean of cloud impossibly suspended in the air. The speech winds down with a few more over-wrought statements, and the Sunlord goes back into his teapot. A shriek, somewhere between kettle-whistle and hawk-scream, echoes in the still morning air as the Phoenix beats with one last pulse of power.
"No, THIS WAY!" You feel your rapier tugged in various directions, darting about. Like poisonous fumes killing flies, the shards pop, burn, and lie still. The ordeal is exhausting , and the yellow aura of light, grumbling about imperfect vessels, flies back into Samen's pack.
The death of that great concentration of Dark creates an imbalance. I must act. A golden voice unfurls from inside a kettle concealed within Samen's pack. "Champion!" I bellow both aloud and in his mind, heedless of politeness and protocol. "The darkspawn grow bold, and are likely to swarm this bleeding artery of magicks at any moment. Cleanse this miserable pile of onyx offal! Show all creatures that the Dark cowers before the light of Sun!
"That is fine work, young fireling! I despise getting wet in the rain."
The runner looks back behind him. "Did one of you say something, my lords?"
Samen: Make certain we are not captured in this domain! My power could be used by this Cauldron Lady and catapult her to deityhood on her own.
**
A humbled Sunlord intones, Now is the morning to be your best self.
He basks in pewling groveling of His followers. He breathes deep of the sacrifices made in His name. All He must do is burn and glow, and spur others to let blood in His name. He would do it for the rest of time, if we allowed Him to do so.
For all to hear, the Sunlord messages, I grow tired as the light of the land wanes. I require rest soon.
Drink the light of the Sun, friends!
Opræterius speaks into Samen's mind. Cast your Silence upon me, Champion, so that my words might have no effect upon you as we leave this place. I shall not shame myself by lusting after those lenses of great focus a second time. A pause. Please.
The Sunlord, in a subdued tone, still gives his greeting to the new day. "All shall see the glory of a true dawn when the Sun truly rises!" Samen, the two cracked salamander lenses in your posession heat up noticeably while the Sunlord speaks, just shy of blistering your delicate human skin.
Silent and filled with shame, the Sunlord retreats deep inside the kettle.
As you pass by the lenses, the Sunlord yells, "Wait! Take Us to the lens! We could destroy every enemy! Sunbeams could cleanse and purify everything!"
As bright commences, the teakettle becomes hot, and the Sunlord bellows,
"Pah. Humans."
The teakettle Sunlord gives his daily bellow,
Slightly after seventh candle, with no warning, from out of Samen's pack bellows,
Your pack briefly smolders. Then the teapot appears to be quiescent once again.
Priest, you dream of laying in warm green grass, basking under a yellow Sun and a living Sky. Dream well.
Gabriel, you hear the Sunlord's voice begin to fade from your mind; he sounds tired after reaching out from his teakettle protection. Of course, little shadow. We trust you will see the proof of Our cause with your own eyes, and come to your own conclusions. Goodnight.
Gabriel, the Sunlord speaks clearly but not overloud into your mind. We know you have no fondness of Us, shadow-elen. We want to speak clearly, and ask but a single question. If you decide to keep these changes and remain human, you could likely develop the powers of your mind even more, just as others have before you. We make no guarantees - We only offer to open the door toward freedom from...your tongues have no word for it. Freedom from obligations, We suppose. Will you at least consider becoming human? The door will remain open to you as long as my priest bends his mind toward this noble task.
Opræterius speaks into the minds of the two humans. Yes! Show them the burgeoning glories of the unfettered mind!
Opræterius shifts their attention to the commotion outside the closet, then back to you. "What is your opinion of the salamanders, priest? Too treacherous to trust at all?"
"Digest my words, priest. Yes, you shall be my advocate; my great speaker and smith and priest. We shall show to one and all the perfect shape of Our cause, and the many shall choose freedom, the many shall choose to break their own chains!..." As the impassioned speech goes on and on, you feel intense heat in your stomach, as if you downed half a gallon of boiling-hot soup all in one go. There is no pain, but the extreme discomfort distracts you from the Sunlord's words. The feeling settles, and you find a reservoir of golden energy roiling in your very bones.
Samen, an assistant healer gives you a handful of gently glowing pebbles, and gets back to sterilizing bandages and checking other patients. ** In the small supply closet you have been allowed to use, the pebbles and your own spell drive away the shadows. "Excellent. Thank you, priest. Now, you are familiar of course with the touch of the gods upon elens? Ash, pearl, flower, and cloud?"
"Glorious Sun was not so hasty with her creations. She watched as elens roamed the land, using their gifts and talking to their gods. Using only the gifts they began with. Never truly innovating, just refining the magicks they had been imbued with, through no efforts of their own." "The great revelation of Sun was this: the most extraordinary gift a god can give to their people is nothing. Humans have not a trace of elemental power within them; it was given to them to create their own power." "You, priest, are an excellent example of this. Though weak of body and with no natural protections, you are free to walk paths of magic that no elemental god could envision. Pathways of the mind. Do you understand this great gift, priest?"
Ask for a private room, priest. A small room. Use your magicks to create light for this vessel to bathe in, so we might commune more comfortably. Not quite a command, but the imperious tone of the Sunlord is difficult to miss.
"Find a small room, and light it well with lamps - get Us out and sheltered from this surrounding darkness! We will tell you of the Abandonment, just get Us somewhere more pleasant first."
The Sunlord holds their blazing hands up to their incandescent temples. They take an uncertain step back, unsteady.
Like a guttering flame, the Sunlord diminishes in size, but still has the force to knock Samen over like a child. You feel the Sunlord's desperation, like a drowning elen clutching scrabbling at life. Among Samen's possessions, now spilled across the ground, the Sunlord comes across a battered copper kettle. The remainder of the suffocating Sunlord leaps into kettle, sealing the lid with a brief burst of molten magicks. An imperious face appears on the kettle a moment later. "Thank you, priest. We are pleased to see you are resourceful as well as loyal. |