To thunder against the heavens (Alexander and Crvenqueenie)

[Alexander]

There wasn't any sound at all, not the tearing of flesh as he expected, or the clink of metal upon metal, as befitted the protection that she seemed to have. Cyncus was quite confused by his first taste of the unnatural upon his lips, though in time to come that would be a stream from which he drank deeply. The piece trembled in his hand for a moment, before he thrust it forth again, with a similar effect as the first time, as it was deflected away off her skin. The man tried to rationalize his situation where he could not explain the failure in his strike, superstitions coming to mind first. It was a new tool to him, he had not fought with this weapon before, so could it possibly be cursed? He tossed it to the side, and his hand swept to his belt to retrieve a more trustworthy dagger, held by him much longer than an infantry weapon. The figure cowered seemingly defenseless before him on her knees, her arms raised above her head and her gaze pointed towards the floor, and he seemed almost a giant in comparison as he loomed over her. He slashed once more, but no matter his attempt, despite throwing all of her strength behind his blow, nothing would pierce her. The woman kept her cries flowing through the air but did not flinch, as if she were unaware that he had just tried several times to wound her, and his teeth gritted together as he tried to contain his outrage at this mockery.

This wasn't the way that it was supposed to go, his mind thought. He and his group had been far, far to the south, participating in upholding their country's honor through conflict. The passage to and from took a pair of months, but it had a way of feeling like an eternity, and each man would have sworn that the days down there had lasted twice as long. Many listeners to that story might agree, if they took notice of the effect of those long suns had upon the returning soldiers' skin. Slowly, reinforcements had run short, supplies had been cut ever tighter, and eventually the ships stopped coming at all, forcing a retreat from those lands. After an agonizing voyage back towards more familiar seas, it became clear why they had been abandoned so. Ever since he had returned to empty water where his home had used to be, having held out hope even after they passed each missing isle, wondering if maybe his had been special and remained when all others had been washed away as if they were grains of sand, he had sworn vengeance. He cursed Ailis for allowing this, and his heart was crushed when he later learned that it was by her own hand that this all conspired. He recalled how directionless all on their ship had felt, having lost hometowns and families, wives and children and pets all gone. It had become a sort of ritual for them from then on, to find an Oracle who could help them come to terms with their fate, only to receive a vague clue or empty prophecy that held little relevance to them, and hoping that the next one may hold better value and greater wisdom.

Indeed, one finally gave Cyncus a proper measure of his fortune, though she hardly seemed suitable to the rest of those in his companionship. It was a girl in her middle teens, a bright and cheery thing, newly appointed to dispense her predictions after the end of the ancient old lady who preceded her. Cyncus alone held hope in one so unproven, and he entered the Seer's station, where she told him more truth than divination. A story of a minor fisher's town, little more than a dock and rickety boats, sworn into perpetual poverty by the decree that they must provide in full for one special woman and her children. Unable to garner many provisions for even themselves, it might have been better to shirk that duty, but the lady in question was said to be of Ailis's blood herself, and it would not do to mistreat any daughter of a god, especially THE goddess, the one who stood above all others, the one who had so recently wracked the ultimate price upon an entire nation for the great slights and lack of reverence they showed for her. He pleaded for the location of this town, so that he might set right the arrangement, though he knew so little of it...

Cyncus had to come to terms with the failure of his attack at one moment or another, and he let out a deep sigh before disengaging from the woman. Once his back was fully turned, and he began to walk away, a foreign thought shot through his mind. Not seeming of his own voice, and certainly not his usual train of logic, but an idea had occurred to him. He had tried to overwhelm a demigod with a mortal's tool, and it would have been folly to expect success. He peered out to his companions, their hands raised towards the night sky, almost indistinguishable in hue from his own jet hair, holding their torches aloft. His eyes focused upon one of the dancing flames, considering the warmth it could bestow upon his skin, the flavor it could enhance with much of his food, its ability when concentrated to bend a piece of metal as if it were a rope. For an unexplainable moment he was overcome with wonder, when it finally hit him. Yes, of course, fire, the original gift from the mythic to the mortal! Not of human manufacture, but such a common tool that he had overlooked it until that moment. He marched himself towards them, and the light was exchanged to his empty hands. He took a glance back at the woman, who had shifted to the opposite wall, but had made no attempt to flee yet. The blazing beacon rose in front of him, his lids blinking over his chestnut colored eyes as the light become much more fierce, and its fiery tendrils licked the air, blocking his sight of her. From this altered vantage point, she was as good as gone from his view. When he lowered it, she was still there of course, and yet, now he had the sense that he would learn much from her, as he began to approach her for the second time...

 

[Crvenqueenie]

Ailis had been alive since the dawn of humans, her power and influence had shifted the very course of their history. She had even coupled with a few worthy mortals over those centuries, though not many had garnered her notice. Of course those couplings had produced offspring and some even still lived to this day. Most had lived out their natural lives and benefited from her favor. Some had met early ends by gods or great beasts, but none had fallen to a human. Until that day.

Ailis felt the loss long before her attendant came to her with the news. She had felt the fear and despair, had heard her screams and pleas, all before the flames engulfed her. Sorrow had wracked her, but she, like all other deities, was forbidden from aiding her kin directly. Her attendant entered the pillared halls of Ailis' realm to find dark storm clouds surrounding the usually pristine landscape. Ailis, in her true form, was draped over a sculpted bench, seeming to be devoid of light. Her attendant, a lowly goddess who had garnered her favor, gently placed a hand upon her.

Below, in the human realm, rain had begun to pour in torrents, cooling the fire that had engulfed her daughter and leaving behind a charred corpse, stuck in mid-scream. It was a horrific sight, but one that would remain until the ends of the earth. Soon screams of agony rose up around the village as the local children dropped dead, blood spilling from their lips. The local women also had their eggs ripped from their bodies causing unimaginable pain. Punishment for the death of her daughter, their charge. This happened almost immediately after she had breathed her last breath, before the men had retreated.

Ailis pulled herself from her despair and walked towards a pool filled with a silver liquid. Her attendant followed behind and produced a jug which she then filled with the liquid. Ailis glided over to a pedestal that held a golden basin and waited as her attendant poured the contents of the jug into the basin. The liquid, once fully poured, stilled immediately and became a mirror like surface. Ailis dipped a long finger in to the liquid, causing ripples to spiral out from where she touched. The scene of her daughters death formed before her, having happened only moments ago in the human realm.

The man who had slain her seemed to either hold an innate ability to kill or he had prior knowledge to the workings of the gods. Already she could see her daughters powers flow to him, the invulnerability to most attacks, a blessing she herself had bestowed. Her attendant spoke beside her.

"It appears this mortal has been attempting to challenge you."

Ailis turned her eyes towards her attendant before looking back to the mortals dark features. "Yes, he has. I suppose this is one way of getting my attention." Her attendant nodded her agreement and was about to speak again when Ailis held up a hand. "Leave me. I do not wish to be disturbed."

Her attendant bowed before departing from her realm. Ailis was the most prominent goddess in the pantheon, but there were rules even for her. Even though she wanted to, she could not take his ill-gotten powers from him, nor could she harm him directly now. Of course there were other ways to kill him, he wasn't completely impervious to harm, only that from normal, man-made weapons. Still, per their laws she could not exact her revenge directly. It was an infuriating law, but one that had to be upheld.

Ailis had sent her attendant away so she could meet with the mortal. She saw him standing in front of her daughter still, the fire still in his hand. Time flowed differently in her realm than it did in the humans and, while much time had passed for her, only minutes had below. She reached in to the basin that held the image of her daughter and the mortal and touched his mind, pulling him in to unconsciousness. Then she walked to the pool and dipped her entire form in to it.

The mortal, who's name she learned was Cyncus when she entered his mind, now found himself in large meadow, filled with white anemone flowers. It was a heady scent that both soothed and enticed. Surrounding the field, however, was dark storm clouds that seemed on the verge of a terrible barrage. On the other end of the field was a woman, stunning in her appearance. She had long, flowing locks of red hair that resembled the flames of fire and sea foam green eyes that seemed to pierce through him. She had a toned, but curvaceous body with perky breasts the size of melons, a thin waist, and thick birthing hips. She wore gossamer robes that did little to hide her rosy nipples and the light patch of red above her sex.

The woman started to approach him from across the field, but in two blinks she was in front of him, her form almost glowing. She had a heavy presence, but moved with such lightness it was like she was gliding. And when she spoke it seemed to cover his very being.

"You called for me, mortal."

 

[Alexander]

His heart was beating like a hammer against his chest, but his body was entirely still, not even taking a single breath for... he didn't even know how long. It was probably for the best, as he would have found himself on the floor after choking upon the smoke if he opened his nose or his mouth to it. What was just the tip of the torch, had found its way leaping throughout the entire room, and as he backed away, it filled the entire structure. He found his fist clenched impossibly tightly against the torch, to the point that his bottom fingers had dug into the flesh of his palm. A trickle from it had already painted lines of red along his arm until his elbow, but when he found himself recovering from his paralyzed state and began to inspect his hand, he found no marking on it to have produced that blood. It was just as well, as the sky began to loose sprays worth of a fountain upon them, and he had barely made it to his companions before the stain was washed away from the downpour. He was more concerned about the thoughts that had overcome him, and wondered why he could not separate his mind from them until this moment.

He ran the scene once more through his head. The family had not expected him, why would they have? He struck at the mother with his hand, and his companions swept the three children away, covering their mouths and stifling their cries. He did not take pride in himself, but there was plenty that he found himself able to put aside after the loss that was inflicted upon him. It was a step into a darker self for him, but he still understood himself at that point. Once they were alone, there was no need for words. He had pulled out his spear and thrust it against her, just as he had done a thousand times during his practice and training, treating her no differently than he would a soldier. That moment was the most familiar of all of this to him. The blow with the knife was similarly practiced, a weapon intimate to him, though no more effective, and that too he understood of himself. He skipped his mind forward to the point where it broke down. He was a soldier, not a torturer, and not an executioner. Swinging the blazing light around, spreading it to any cloth he could find, slamming the door to the room shut and barring it, those were not the actions of a warrior. He thought to himself as he returned to her the second time, that he might not find himself able to use something other than the tools of a warrior that he had already tried, that his pride elevated him above smoking a living person as if they were a pig on a spit. When the frenzy overcame him, was that courage? Was that the fighting spirit that was needed to overcome a god, by tossing his humanity aside?

He found himself caught up to his men, one at each shoulder of his. They looked at him, but even when they no longer had a country to fight for, they were professionals, soldiers, and they did not judge him. Would either of them have done the same? Did only he hate Ailis that much? He did not feel himself able to talk to them about it, just dwell upon his thoughts in solitude. The rain still did not subside, and as his gaze lowered, the five streams running across his face converged to one upon his chin, then falling upon the torch, extinguishing its fatal flame. The bright light behind them, the burning heat, faded away as well as the downpour drenched the building. The one to his left, not so sullen with pain, lifted a cloak above the final light that they had, and led the others forth to return to their ship. Cyncus spoke up, his voice barely penetrating the heavy splashing of the rain against their bodies. "The children? Tell me they did not see any of this." It was ten paces before the front man replied. "They see nothing now. Each overcome with grief and fainted." He did not elaborate, that each fell over in unison, in a haunting deportation from this world.

Cyncus trudged along, but the man in front seemed to have an incredible pace, that he could not keep up with. To his side he looked for his other compatriot, but found that one too to be halfway between the torchbearer and himself. In a few more moment, they vanished, and he stumbled, only rising to his hands and knees and raising his head once his scalp felt so soaked that he could not feel the rain against it anymore. Indeed, there was no rain once he glanced up once more, but he did find a personage in the distance. The gaze that the woman shot through him was alone enough to identify who she was, that rich green glow of hers known throughout all lands. There were a thousand songs that sang of beauty, but none of them suitably described the woman he saw, giving him a second hint. The unearthly motions she used to weave her way towards him sealed it, as she stood above him. A shock went through him when he realized that, in this position of his, he was prostrated before her. He quickly rolled back upon his heels in a crouch, still too heavy from the rain to lift himself up, and stared upwards at her. The almost intimate garb of hers surprised him, as from this position the very first thing he found upon his eyes was that bright tuft of hers. This was not the time to be transfixed, however, and he tried to meet her penetrating gaze, but found his next obstacle, the chest of hers perfectly jutted out to block his view, and he was met with a pair of peaks instead of a pair of eyes. He took a breath, and finally rose. Their heights were not so massively different, but as he struggled to lift his gaze above her breasts, he felt like an insignificant dwarf against a mammoth.

"Are you near deaf, to have never heard my previous roars, or are you merely tardy in sorting your affairs?" He tried to hold his ground in both words and position, but failed when she leaned closer in to him. He could not describe it, but his legs gave way, as if he were a babe just learning to stand, feeling her mere presence knock him over. Indeed, he had not had this sensation since perhaps twenty-five years ago, as he felt himself shaking as if he were about to be scolded by his mother for his rotten behavior.

 

[Crvenqueenie]

Ailis watched his prostrated form and held back a smirk as he rolled away to crouch and then attempt to stand before her. An elegant brow raised as she looked upon his struggle, his eyes almost meeting hers, but seeming to land flatly upon her breasts before he fell again before her. Still, he managed to speak, and defiantly so. Her laughter fell like bells, resounding with his very soul.

Ailis circled around the defiant mortal, much like a lion circles its prey. Her robes fanned out with her movements and exposed her creamy thighs. This mortal, on his knees, still had the audacity to question her. It was amusing in its absurdity.

"I do not work on mortal time. And your roars were no louder than every other humans pathetic pleas and lamentations."

She had fully circled him and stood before him, her feet bare save for a solid gold anklet on either foot. She leaned down, her hair falling forward and brushing his cheek. If he were to gaze upwards, he would see a glorious view of her bare breasts, perfect beyond any mortals. Still, her voice was low and far deadlier than before.

"You have committed a heinous act of heresy, far greater than any human previously. And you have stolen what isn't yours."

Her words were dripping with venom, so much that it felt he would be poisoned simply by hearing them. She could not harm him though, that was still the law and, despite her anger towards him, he intrigued her. Ailis then stood up and turned from him, exposing her back and shapely butt to him.

"You have started down a dangerous path, mortal. One I do not think you are fully prepared for." Ailis turned her gaze back to him, watching his reaction. "You have already taken the life of my daughter and therefore the lives of the children and future children of her village. There is no reward if you continue to anger me."

In another moment she was in front of him, her hand brushing along his jaw line. "There can only be pain. Pledge yourself to me and I shall ease your suffering." Her words now were sweet, filled with promises untold. She did have need of a champion to rally her subjects back to her and she could tell he was a leader. He had already killed her daughter so there was no redemption for his soul, but she could at least use him before his death.

 

[Alexander]

He didn't care for a lecture on how she did or did not work. Right now, she was in his domain... at least, that is what he thought. In this mystical field, it was difficult to tell. She seemed to have been the one moving towards him, but it was just as possible that she had flung him a far distance from that town, and brought him before her. He shook hid head to remove the several confusing thoughts in his mind. He hadn't taken anything from her, either, at least, no more than had been stolen from him. And even then, it would be like comparing the taking of a coin in a pouch, to the theft of an entire estate.

Just as he found it impossible to compose his posture while in her weighty presence, after she spoke her toxic words to him, it was difficult to share speech with her as well. His jaw felt like it weighed twenty pounds, and he found that both rising and talking at once was quite impossible under this aura, so he settled for merely fending her with words from the ground. He wondered if this strange presence affected her as well, explaining her distractingly loose and light attire. If he did not hate her so, he might have admired the luscious curves that she flared at him. If his body were not so restrained, he might have attempted to caress her skin. And yet, what he would have done to link a chain between her two anklets, and turn her jewelry into shackles... "You claim heresy? What would Kelenor say?" He asked, invoking the patron of law and righteousness, possibly a poor thing to attempt in front of Ailis. "I think it would be declared that justice has been achieved, today." His own definition of justice did not normally include slaying women in cold blood, but with enough introspection, he believed that he would be able to live with himself. The woman was guilty by association, and Ailis herself claimed mothership of that woman, so there could be no doubt about her identity. "There is much pain that can be wrought both ways, Ailis. Do you wish to see your grandchildren in the afterlife alongside their departed mother? Do not touch the village, now that I have freed them from its tribute." He knew nothing of the emptiness of his threat, Ailis already having damned those he thought in his custody to that dark fate.

He shook his head, when he thought of the thousands who would have glady carried her banner, even thrown themselves into the underworld at her request, a year ago. Since then, he had met but one other boat of Phrace in what had once been lively and active waters, and they knew little more than his company did, having similarly been far from home when the reckoning came. "You had your pick of countless worthy heroes." The first that came to mind was his own namesake. Cyncus's father was on a voyage nearly thirty years ago, back when the monsters had begun to rise from depths unknown and were sinking ships left and right as if they were nothing but lead anchors. They journeyed for a whirl-serpent, and the thing had licked thirty men from the deck of the ship, torn off all the masts, and was busy removing the hull ten planks at a time with furious body-slams before one man's harpoon caught its tongue, and with inhuman strength pulled the thing from the water and onto the ship such that the rest could properly attack it, nearly weighing the whole vehicle down to the water line. Cyncus actually had another name before the day that his father returned, but he would never know it. When his father learned that the day that Cyncus was born coincided with that great victory, he wanted his son to share the name of that great warrior. His mother accepted the request, and even when Cyncus gave inquiry as to what used to be his identity, she refused to ever tell him what his original one was.

His hand rose slowly, as if he needed to rip away a chain shackling his arm, but he eventually managed to brush her hand away from his face, before letting it drop heavily and exhausted. "Do not attempt to trick me as Eurethys would. You know the only thing that would ease my pain, and even if you could undo it, you would never admit you were mistaken in your fault." He did not believe that anybody, including Ailis, could undo her fury. With its vast population and influential position on the matters of the world, even a lesser god might find themselves more highly praised than Ailis if its whole population of Phrace were to support that deity. "You might find a champion still, from another land, but never one from Phrace." He gave her a stare that might have frozen a weak-willed human as if he were a basilisk. "Take five such chiefs, if you care to. As soon as word of their deeds and position reaches me, I will go and I will find them, and I will leave your reach into our earth empty again." He found himself in a strange position, one that he had seen from the opposite side, when his country's army held its opposition under its heel, and yet they were encouraged to participate in a token show of diplomacy. Rather than the defeated mongrels taking the small bone they were offered, it was a common choice to die with their teeth bared and their face snarling, instead. Cyncus hoped that his part at this moment might be more of a noble lion defending its domain, rather than a miserable mutt to be taken behind a shed.

 

[Crvenqueenie]

Ailis stared down at the insolent human who had slain her daughter and subsequently the entirety of the children of the village. He didn't seem to know about the others deaths though, at least from the way he spoke. She almost spared a thought to his companions, but they weren't even worthy of that so her focus returned to the one in front of her, the one who dared to brush her away and speak of things he knew nothing about. The pain she had felt at being turned away from by the people she had long protected, and at the height of their glory. She could guess little at their reasoning for abandoning her and after her patience had finally reached its end she had decimated their holdings, sinking their islands to the bottom of the sea where they had begun and sending them to the underworld.

And here she was, facing a mortal who had escaped her cleansing, speaking to her of justice. The change was slow, but the scene around them started to shift from the peaceful meadow to white sands and the scent of anemone flowers shifted to the scent of the sea. Her sea foam eyes also darkened to the color of the deep ocean. With a flick of her wrist she manipulated Cyncus' body to stand before her, a feat that had been so difficult for him. Dark waves crashed against rocks as the ocean raged behind them. "You speak of justice and a nation at the bottom of the sea. Mortal, you have no more control over this world than is allowed to you. If you truly wish to fight against me, than so be it, but remember, mortal, you have a piece of me inside of you now and the further you continue on this path, the more you shall kill that part of you."

Ailis placed a hand on his chest, right above his heart, causing it glow where her daughters power now resided. It pained her greatly that her beloved child's power and last of her essence was now inside her murderer. It even showed upon her features, the pain that her daughter's death had caused, but only for a moment before she looked in to his dark eyes, hers reflecting the ocean that he now roamed. "I'll be watching you struggle, mortal. Do not disappoint me." She than placed her lips against his, a gentle kiss filled with an immense power, but that would fill the coldest of men with life, vigor and an insatiable heat. His consciousness began to fade with her lips still pressed against his and when he would awake again it would be where had been before, laying in the mud and muck, the cries of a dying village resounding in the wind.

 

[Alexander]

It was a little bit humiliating, for her to exert herself so simply over his body when he struggled to achieve what a even a toddler would master, but once he was upon his feet, his body wobbled no more. Instead, it was his mind then went spinning, when she hit him with surprise after surprise. He was quite confused with her words at first, knowing nothing of their bond. Did she mistake him for her son, instead of that departed daughter, when she spoke of what was inside of him? Cyncus and Ailis had no relation, he knew his mother, and it seemed unlikely that their heritage included Ailis much further back. But she knew exactly what she was talking about, and though he did not understand it, he could feel what she referred to when her hand covered him. It was... something foreign, but it also felt like something that belonged, something that he absolutely needed, though he knew little how he came by it, by this part of Ailis, as she claimed. Perhaps that would be a good question for an oracle.

Just as he was beginning to feel control over his body return, where he might have taken his hands and twisted them around her, she stunned him again. The agony in her expression gave a rise within him, and he wanted to amplify those feeling of hers tenfold, but she was hardly as broken as he would have wished, evident when she locked his lips against his. His eyes shot open as widely as his mouth did at this display of... he could not call it affection, but in some way she seemed to cheer him on. He could not understand it, but where there was an invisible weight against his body before, there was now energy. His arms instinctively wrapped around her, Cyncus mentally seizing her body to crush, but the touch was closer to a warm embrace, in truth. It did not take long for the energy to fade, however, as did the rest of his mind, when he began to drift away from his senses.

The sky was no darker than it had been when the world first started twisting around him, but there were no longer the monstrous clouds erupting above him. He twitched his shoulders, and found himself fully in control for once. Curious, he ran his tongue around his lips, but found only the taste of the wet soil upon them, rather than the favor of the Goddess. While he uprighted himself, her words dwelled upon his mind. "The further you continue on this path..." Did he truly care about a part of him that had just surfaced itself, a piece of Ailis that he might want to rid of from this world as much as he would see the Goddess herself driven from it? And yet... there was a new sensation in his heart, something that he had not felt for five-hundred days, since he had departed to serve his country. There was... a sense of compassion for this village, and a love for his children. No, that did not seem right... Cyncus was without a heir. Certainly, he had known of his departure plenty of time ahead, and took every opportunity to help his wife conceive, but he set off for glory and duty before he would have known if his seed had taken. It was not an unusual custom, as he was born in the same manner to his mother and father. Even if his wife did carry, however, his child, his first child, would have met the same fate as his wife when their home had been overcome and sunk. There would have been no time for the many children that his emotions cried for at the moment.

The strange thought occurred to him, that one of his last commands before he took to the sea was to make sure that tribute would be made to Ailis, so that she may bless the two in this endeavor. Not directly, of course, the seers had declared two generations ago that her worship would become an indirect affair, so that the other Gods may have their due appreciation, after Ailis had become an all-dominating figure in their society. Still, the others that he favored, Sotanus of the hearth, the good hunter Pacion, and of course, Diodrones of fruitful dreams all saw their tithes from him doubled, so that they could lend the extra share to Ailis. It was not the most intuitive system to him, but just like a good soldier does not question his commands, he did not push against the instructions said to be of the Lady's will herself.

He realized at this point, even through what little he could see in the dark, that he was alone. He could only guess how long it had been, maybe five or ten minutes with the goddess, but not so many hours that the sun had risen and fallen again. Would his companions leave him here while he was knocked out? Or perhaps, he really was with Ailis, and the two had considered themselves abandoned when he disappeared. It would not be simple navigation, but he knew the direction of the ship, and how unlikely they would be to depart so soon after a storm through choppy waters. He marched his way towards the direction of the coast, trying to compartmentalize in his head all that had happened. As he felt the sludge caked onto his legs as he moved, he yearned for a bath, and he yearned to meet once more the oracle who might help him piece Ailis's mysteries together, and perhaps most importantly, he needed a friend to talk with, to come to terms with the terrible deed he had wrought tonight.