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Oct. 13th, 2018
via https://ift.tt/2yhWE3p
angelrider13:
bev-nap:
How about a young Ardyn?? xD
@sparklecryptid
LOOK AT HIM. URGH. THIS ADORABLE SMUG ASSHOLE. I LOVE HIM.
Also, I know this is young Ardyn, but before I got to the description, I was all “Who created this beautiful masterpiece of Jean Izunia for Moose???”
(Your picture was not posted)
angelrider13:
bev-nap:
How about a young Ardyn?? xD
@sparklecryptid
LOOK AT HIM. URGH. THIS ADORABLE SMUG ASSHOLE. I LOVE HIM.
Also, I know this is young Ardyn, but before I got to the description, I was all “Who created this beautiful masterpiece of Jean Izunia for Moose???”
(Your picture was not posted)
via https://ift.tt/2ITKSjJ
angelrider13:
hamelin-born:
angelrider13:
charlottedabookworm replied to your post “Alright, so this is not what’s going to happen in the actual fic…”
Okay /wow/. i love this! Just, the Regis and Clarus relationship and the way that they get each other, Nyx asking Thalassa for help and her /helping/ and the way that Nyx is the only one of the 4 who seems to have any idea what’s going on. The scene with Ardyn broke my heart. And the adoption? I loved it
@charlottedabookworm
Thank you!
Ramuh made certain that Galahd remembered its roots. When the rest of the world forgot the Dawn Mother and her siblings, Galahd remembered. When the rest of the world forgot Ardyn Lucis Caelum, the Sage, the First King, Galahd remembered. It was a bit of a culture shock when the Galahdians arrived in Insomina and most of what they know is the Draconian and the Prophecy. It’s a bit strange because black and gold are Etro’s colors, the royal coeurl image that is repeated over and over through out the Citadel is Etro’s symbol. Yet no one seems to know her.
It takes them a while to realize that, for the rest of the world, the Cosmology is the truth.
Nyx has read the Cosmology. He was not impressed. Only some of it matches the stories he was raised on. The Sage isn’t mentioned once in any other way then as the Accursed. The Crystal is considered nothing more than a divine gift rather than Eos’s stolen Heart. So much of the focus is on the Astral War, on Bahamut’s Prophecy and his gifts. Everything else - Bahamut’s mistakes, the resulting schism - isn’t touched upon.
But Ramuh walks through his children’s dreams and the seaborne tell Leviathan’s stories. So Nyx knows in a way Regis and Clarus and Luna do not. He’s actually met Leviathan before, his grandmother was one of her children. He trusts her, knows how she works more than the others.
Regis is actually in for a bit of a surprise because Leviathan is actually very fair. She will hold a grudge for forever and a day against someone who harms what hers, but she won’t so much as glance at their child. Somnus killed Ardyn, her Chosen, and she hates him for that with everything she is. And he knew that, so he warned his children away from her, and they warned their children, and so on. She could care less about them. They have never wronged her, so they have nothing to fear from her.
Thalassa has absolutely no problems adopting the heck out of Regis and Clarus. She wraps them up in her coils, smug as you please, and dares Bahamut to try and take them. I have this image of Ardyn coming to visit at one point while Regis and Clarus are there and he is just. So done.
Also have this idea of Thalassa strolling into Maagho with both of them some time post fall and Weskham absolutely flips out on them. His very eccentric, semi-regular customer with the King of Lucis? Regis aren’t you dead? And if you’re dead, shouldn’t Clarus be dead? What is happening???
@angelrider13
I am working on a longer response to your au of an au post (you have sparked. SO MANY ideas; it’s AWESOME) but I just wanted to drop by and add my two cents to this post.
Honestly, I just. Poor Wes. I have the mental image of Thalassa showing up for dinner one evening with two men she introduces as her brothers - one is an older individual, with a beard and a walking stick, and the other appears to be a bald, dark-skinned man around her own age. They talk quietly together in a foreign language for most of the evening, complement Wes’ meals and choice of wines, and leave a generous tip when they head out.
…the older brother leaves a single, perfect stick of shimmering fulgurite. The bald one leaves an ingot of gold-encrusted ruby. Thalassa, in turn, leaves a small stack of glimmering seaglass in her wake.
@hamelin-born
*whispers* Yeeeessss. This is perfect. I can’t believe I didn’t think of this.
No, but I’ve already established that Thalassa shapeshifts and Shiva has a human form in canon that Ardyn implies she’s used before. So obviously all the Astrals do.
Just so you know, you said this and all I saw in my mind was Thalassa rocking up to Wes with Gandalf and Lincoln from the 100 (aka Ricky Whittle) in tow. So they are now officially what Ramuh and Titan look like in human form. Because reasons.
@angelrider13
RL is a bit busy at the moment, so I haven’t had the time I would like to type responses to all the wonderful, wonderful things floating around tumblr at the moment. It should be up shortly, I hope.
Wes probably found the siblings - somewhat odd (especially in the random/valuable objects they tend to leave in their wake) and he must admit that he was ferociously curious about this glimpse into the life of one of his most enigmatic customers.
Ramuh liked the steak. Titan was just happy to eat again after being stuck beneath a meteor for several thousand years.
I see the Astrals as having human forms, even if some of them use them more often then others. Even so, unless the Astral in question is making a deliberate effort - there’s always something just. A bit strange, that registers with humans on at least a subconcious level. (Shiva got around that by pretending to be a Messenger, who are themselves something Other then human). They are - it’s like wearing a suit, I suppose, one that fits less then perfectly - there’s just. Something slightly off.
(Your picture was not posted)
angelrider13:
hamelin-born:
angelrider13:
charlottedabookworm replied to your post “Alright, so this is not what’s going to happen in the actual fic…”
Okay /wow/. i love this! Just, the Regis and Clarus relationship and the way that they get each other, Nyx asking Thalassa for help and her /helping/ and the way that Nyx is the only one of the 4 who seems to have any idea what’s going on. The scene with Ardyn broke my heart. And the adoption? I loved it
@charlottedabookworm
Thank you!
Ramuh made certain that Galahd remembered its roots. When the rest of the world forgot the Dawn Mother and her siblings, Galahd remembered. When the rest of the world forgot Ardyn Lucis Caelum, the Sage, the First King, Galahd remembered. It was a bit of a culture shock when the Galahdians arrived in Insomina and most of what they know is the Draconian and the Prophecy. It’s a bit strange because black and gold are Etro’s colors, the royal coeurl image that is repeated over and over through out the Citadel is Etro’s symbol. Yet no one seems to know her.
It takes them a while to realize that, for the rest of the world, the Cosmology is the truth.
Nyx has read the Cosmology. He was not impressed. Only some of it matches the stories he was raised on. The Sage isn’t mentioned once in any other way then as the Accursed. The Crystal is considered nothing more than a divine gift rather than Eos’s stolen Heart. So much of the focus is on the Astral War, on Bahamut’s Prophecy and his gifts. Everything else - Bahamut’s mistakes, the resulting schism - isn’t touched upon.
But Ramuh walks through his children’s dreams and the seaborne tell Leviathan’s stories. So Nyx knows in a way Regis and Clarus and Luna do not. He’s actually met Leviathan before, his grandmother was one of her children. He trusts her, knows how she works more than the others.
Regis is actually in for a bit of a surprise because Leviathan is actually very fair. She will hold a grudge for forever and a day against someone who harms what hers, but she won’t so much as glance at their child. Somnus killed Ardyn, her Chosen, and she hates him for that with everything she is. And he knew that, so he warned his children away from her, and they warned their children, and so on. She could care less about them. They have never wronged her, so they have nothing to fear from her.
Thalassa has absolutely no problems adopting the heck out of Regis and Clarus. She wraps them up in her coils, smug as you please, and dares Bahamut to try and take them. I have this image of Ardyn coming to visit at one point while Regis and Clarus are there and he is just. So done.
Also have this idea of Thalassa strolling into Maagho with both of them some time post fall and Weskham absolutely flips out on them. His very eccentric, semi-regular customer with the King of Lucis? Regis aren’t you dead? And if you’re dead, shouldn’t Clarus be dead? What is happening???
@angelrider13
I am working on a longer response to your au of an au post (you have sparked. SO MANY ideas; it’s AWESOME) but I just wanted to drop by and add my two cents to this post.
Honestly, I just. Poor Wes. I have the mental image of Thalassa showing up for dinner one evening with two men she introduces as her brothers - one is an older individual, with a beard and a walking stick, and the other appears to be a bald, dark-skinned man around her own age. They talk quietly together in a foreign language for most of the evening, complement Wes’ meals and choice of wines, and leave a generous tip when they head out.
…the older brother leaves a single, perfect stick of shimmering fulgurite. The bald one leaves an ingot of gold-encrusted ruby. Thalassa, in turn, leaves a small stack of glimmering seaglass in her wake.
@hamelin-born
*whispers* Yeeeessss. This is perfect. I can’t believe I didn’t think of this.
No, but I’ve already established that Thalassa shapeshifts and Shiva has a human form in canon that Ardyn implies she’s used before. So obviously all the Astrals do.
Just so you know, you said this and all I saw in my mind was Thalassa rocking up to Wes with Gandalf and Lincoln from the 100 (aka Ricky Whittle) in tow. So they are now officially what Ramuh and Titan look like in human form. Because reasons.
@angelrider13
RL is a bit busy at the moment, so I haven’t had the time I would like to type responses to all the wonderful, wonderful things floating around tumblr at the moment. It should be up shortly, I hope.
Wes probably found the siblings - somewhat odd (especially in the random/valuable objects they tend to leave in their wake) and he must admit that he was ferociously curious about this glimpse into the life of one of his most enigmatic customers.
Ramuh liked the steak. Titan was just happy to eat again after being stuck beneath a meteor for several thousand years.
I see the Astrals as having human forms, even if some of them use them more often then others. Even so, unless the Astral in question is making a deliberate effort - there’s always something just. A bit strange, that registers with humans on at least a subconcious level. (Shiva got around that by pretending to be a Messenger, who are themselves something Other then human). They are - it’s like wearing a suit, I suppose, one that fits less then perfectly - there’s just. Something slightly off.
(Your picture was not posted)
via https://ift.tt/2CIzYNG
angelrider13:
Alright, so this is not what’s going to happen in the actual fic (probably - who knows really, I haven’t even gotten to the part where Ardyn comes in yet), but then @hamelin-born said mer!Regis and mer!Clarus and my brain when down that rabbit hole and ran with it. So. Have 3400 words of snippets and a bunch of half-thought out scenes that I pieced together to make a sort of fic for an AU of an AU that is all hamelin-born’s fault. How very dare you.
(P.S. This isn’t edited at all, but I wrote so many words and I am tired now and I wish to share them.)
May also interest: @sparklecryptid, @theperidotshade, @charlottedabookworm, @starofthemourning
Keep reading
@angelrider13 @sparklecryptid @theperidotshade @charlottedabookworm @distressedherbalist
Before I say anything else, please let me inform you that this was fucking awesome, and I read it over and over and over again. I just - I love everything here? The characterization, the descriptions, the plot - I love how Leviathan turns everything on its head, I love how Regis et al’s assumptions are completely dashed, I love the tie-ins with - everything. Honestly, even though you stated that you probably wouldn’t - I really hope you manage to incorporate this somehow, even if only as an au spinoff - it is good.
My own speculations/responses are listed in further detail below. It’s really a number of scattered plots/ideas/scenes that popped up into my head and refused to leave. Written more or less without any planning behind it and unbeta’ed, to boot. (Um. One or two lines adapted from a favorite fanfic…)
Regis’ scales are an iridescent black, chased with blue, and Clarus can’t help but muse on how appropriate that is. Black is the color of Lucian royalty, blue the sparkleburst of his king’s magic - but the hues suit him on a personal level as well. Clarus’ own tail is a far more prosaic dark bottle-green; such a strange thought, that. His tail.
It’s even stranger how normal the concept feels. As if - as if they have always been this, always had a tail instead feet.
It’s easy, adjusting to what they are now. It wasn’t - it wasn’t so at first. Clarus was still spewing water on the sands of that unknown beach, Regis’ hands clutching his arms as Clarus shook and shivered through his own change - as legs melded, scales multiplying across his skin as teeth and nails grew sharp, sharp sharp.
And then scales had moved beneath his hands as Leviathan laughed. And called the sea.
The wave had been upon them quicker then thought, white foam crashing to either side before the resulting rip current dragged them back, sweeping King and Shield into deep water before they could do so much as draw breath to cry out. And then the sea had closed around his head, and still-muddled instincts screamed at him to hold his breath, to struggle for light and air and sky except he was sinking, he didn’t know how to move in this strange new body, he didn’t know how to swim -
Coils encircled him, blue and grey and green, all the colors of the sea as a single golden eye fixed the Shield with a timeless, endlessly patient stare.
“Breathe.”
And he could.
I am breathing water.
A familiar, shaky laugh echoed off to one side, and Clarus’ head turned, drawn to the sound as a lodestone to iron. It had been - far, far too long since he had heard Regis laugh - but his King was smiling at him in hesitant, slowly growing joy. I am here, and you are here - and isn’t it amazing?
“Come.” Leviathan circled them slowly, an effortless grace in every flex of scale-shod muscle. “You are of the sea, now and always - I shall teach you my waters, and you may do as you please.” And oh, but there is a cadence to the words, ritual threaded into each sound - a promise, older then recorded history, bound deeper then blood.
“Come, my own, my little loves. Come further up; come further in.” The sea-serpent of legend, the mermaid queen, She Who Encircles The Globes slides deeper, deeper into the sun-strewed waters.
They follow.
***
There are people, living beneath the waves.
Merfolk, much like - like he and Clarus are now. Merfolk, who live alongside a kelp forest, sliding like silver blades through the swaying fronds - and then dart deeper, to dance between the pale, pitted columns of the stately buildings of a long-drowned city.
Merfolk, who greeted Regis and Clarus warmly as ‘cousin’ and welcomed them into their homes without hesitation. Who are perfectly aware of who they are - were? - but don’t seem to care. “No offense, your Majesty,” Alys - a middle-aged mermaid with a coral-red tail, who wore her scars like the finest jewelry, “But we’re not exactly your subjects.” The wryness of her grin detracted some of the sharpness of her teeth; she promptly thrust a ceramic pot of cooked shellfish into Regis’ hands, with the instructions to ‘eat up - you’re far too skinny.’
The merfolk treat him with respect and affection, but not that owed between subject and ruler. It’s more like the kind shared between a vastly extended family - casual and almost teasing in nature. He’s - he’s just Regis here. He’s not a king, just another mer - one free to wander as he wills, to stay or go as he pleases.
Regis likes it.
There is so much to do, to explore, to learn - so many stories, so many adventures to be had if he so desires, and it would be easy, easy to spend lifetime after lifetime lost in the wonders of the deep.
But there are questions. Questions that need answers, answers that the tidefolk cannot - or will not - give.
“It’s really Mother’s story.” Mikkia - a tow-headed merman who delights in racing alongside dolphins tells them apologetically. “Hers, and Brother’s; you’ll have to ask them, but Brother isn’t here right now. Hasn’t come by for a few decades. Mother, though - she’ll probably tell you. If you ask.”
***
“Once, little king” Leviathan begins - and it is Leviathan now, the great, finned serpent of legend. Hunter, mother, guardian, goddess, inevitable as a tidal wave, older then the foundations of the earth - scales shiver, water rippling in her wake as she settles into place, coiling slowly around the ruins of a long-drowned temple. “Once, you offered me anything, if I would only save your son. It was a dangerous promise - yet one that your ancestor swore without thinking when the sword-master offered him a crown.”
Her eyes are larger then the world as they rest on the two merfolk - tiny beings, dwarfed by even the smallest of her fins.
“And yet it was not Somnus Lucis Caelum from whom the price was enacted. For the sword-master’s price was simple - very simple indeed. And it was such a little thing.” The words are acid between her jaws; her wrath darkens the water as her voice sharpens, and all the biting cold of the sea-born glaciers surges through her words.
“Anything, the Mystic promised. Anything.”
“The draconian gave unto him the prophecy. Somnus Lucis Caelum receive the Ring, the Crystal, and the prophecy that from him and his would stretch a line of kings unbroken until the Chosen King of his blood arose to scour the starscourge from Eos and earn fame everlasting. And Somnus Lucis Caelum accepted, and bound all his line to the same.”
“And the price? The price was simple. Such a little thing.”
“For the prophecy, for the promise, for the Ring and Crystal and a crown, Somnus Lucis Caelum sacrificed his brother.”
“His older brother.” And oh, but Leviathan watches as Regis’ face goes pure, pallid white as shock and realization break across him like a cresting wave. “His brother, who was the King of Light. Who forged Lucis from the shards of lost Solheim, who was a King as of old, who ruled with mercy in one hand and justice in the other. Who loved his people as the tides love the shore, who had sacrificed everything in their service - his life, his health, his dreams and hopes and ambitions - and who loved Somnus, with all the unreserved, unthinking love of an older brother.”
“T’was Somnus - Somnus Kinslayer, Somnus Kingkiller - who took up the hammer and drove the first nail home when he crucified his brother.” Leviathan’s voice continues, merciless as the sea which is her domain. “The King’s Shield who has sworn himself to the King of Light’s service, who had vowed loyalty until the stars faded and the seas boiled, until the mountains ground to dust and ash - t’was he who hammered the second nail through the flesh of the man he had sworn to protect.” And now it was Clarus who trembled as if someone had suddenly withdrawn the foundations of the world. “And it was the High Priest of the Draconian who struck home the third.”
“All Somnus Kinslayer had to do to gain everything he’d ever wanted was kill his brother. Wrench his crown from his head, and declare him damnatio memoriae. Take his deeds as his own, take his name for his own, declare his brother a deamon given human form - for the King of Light was a healer, you see.” Leviathan explained to the ashen forms of her Drowned. “A healer, who fought the Starscourge, the plague that haunted his kingdom, by taking it from the afflicted and drawing it into his own veins. The Draconian had come to him with a prophecy, you see - the King of Light had been told that it was his destiny to do this, to defeat the disease, and he did so gladly. Because he loved his people, and he believed in the sword-master’s promise. So he healed the starscourge and took the plague into himself - until his own blood ran black as night, and he screamed at the touch of sunlight.”
“That is the price that Somnus Kinslayer paid.” There is something of the abyssal in Leviathan’s smile - the lipless grin of the deep-dwelling fish, every movement a nightmare waiting to be born. “The life of his brother.”
“His brother, who was my Chosen.” Rage rippled through the waters. “My Chosen, who Bahamut would not even let die! ‘Cursed you are, and cursed ye remain, until the Chosen King of the Stone shall slay you’. He stole my Chosen’s death, condemned him to life in ceaseless agony, cursed him to exist as a walking plague - oh, my child. My Chosen, my tide-son, who danced along my shores and wove flowers through my hair. Who loved with the ferocity of the gale, of the hurricane, with all the deep and abiding loyalty of the deeps. Oh my child, my child, if I could I would have driven armies and madness across the earth and ocean to save thee, oh my son, my son - “
And the grief of the goddess was bitter, bitter on her tongue and her teeth as she mourned.
(Your picture was not posted)
angelrider13:
Alright, so this is not what’s going to happen in the actual fic (probably - who knows really, I haven’t even gotten to the part where Ardyn comes in yet), but then @hamelin-born said mer!Regis and mer!Clarus and my brain when down that rabbit hole and ran with it. So. Have 3400 words of snippets and a bunch of half-thought out scenes that I pieced together to make a sort of fic for an AU of an AU that is all hamelin-born’s fault. How very dare you.
(P.S. This isn’t edited at all, but I wrote so many words and I am tired now and I wish to share them.)
May also interest: @sparklecryptid, @theperidotshade, @charlottedabookworm, @starofthemourning
Keep reading
@angelrider13 @sparklecryptid @theperidotshade @charlottedabookworm @distressedherbalist
Before I say anything else, please let me inform you that this was fucking awesome, and I read it over and over and over again. I just - I love everything here? The characterization, the descriptions, the plot - I love how Leviathan turns everything on its head, I love how Regis et al’s assumptions are completely dashed, I love the tie-ins with - everything. Honestly, even though you stated that you probably wouldn’t - I really hope you manage to incorporate this somehow, even if only as an au spinoff - it is good.
My own speculations/responses are listed in further detail below. It’s really a number of scattered plots/ideas/scenes that popped up into my head and refused to leave. Written more or less without any planning behind it and unbeta’ed, to boot. (Um. One or two lines adapted from a favorite fanfic…)
Regis’ scales are an iridescent black, chased with blue, and Clarus can’t help but muse on how appropriate that is. Black is the color of Lucian royalty, blue the sparkleburst of his king’s magic - but the hues suit him on a personal level as well. Clarus’ own tail is a far more prosaic dark bottle-green; such a strange thought, that. His tail.
It’s even stranger how normal the concept feels. As if - as if they have always been this, always had a tail instead feet.
It’s easy, adjusting to what they are now. It wasn’t - it wasn’t so at first. Clarus was still spewing water on the sands of that unknown beach, Regis’ hands clutching his arms as Clarus shook and shivered through his own change - as legs melded, scales multiplying across his skin as teeth and nails grew sharp, sharp sharp.
And then scales had moved beneath his hands as Leviathan laughed. And called the sea.
The wave had been upon them quicker then thought, white foam crashing to either side before the resulting rip current dragged them back, sweeping King and Shield into deep water before they could do so much as draw breath to cry out. And then the sea had closed around his head, and still-muddled instincts screamed at him to hold his breath, to struggle for light and air and sky except he was sinking, he didn’t know how to move in this strange new body, he didn’t know how to swim -
Coils encircled him, blue and grey and green, all the colors of the sea as a single golden eye fixed the Shield with a timeless, endlessly patient stare.
“Breathe.”
And he could.
I am breathing water.
A familiar, shaky laugh echoed off to one side, and Clarus’ head turned, drawn to the sound as a lodestone to iron. It had been - far, far too long since he had heard Regis laugh - but his King was smiling at him in hesitant, slowly growing joy. I am here, and you are here - and isn’t it amazing?
“Come.” Leviathan circled them slowly, an effortless grace in every flex of scale-shod muscle. “You are of the sea, now and always - I shall teach you my waters, and you may do as you please.” And oh, but there is a cadence to the words, ritual threaded into each sound - a promise, older then recorded history, bound deeper then blood.
“Come, my own, my little loves. Come further up; come further in.” The sea-serpent of legend, the mermaid queen, She Who Encircles The Globes slides deeper, deeper into the sun-strewed waters.
They follow.
***
There are people, living beneath the waves.
Merfolk, much like - like he and Clarus are now. Merfolk, who live alongside a kelp forest, sliding like silver blades through the swaying fronds - and then dart deeper, to dance between the pale, pitted columns of the stately buildings of a long-drowned city.
Merfolk, who greeted Regis and Clarus warmly as ‘cousin’ and welcomed them into their homes without hesitation. Who are perfectly aware of who they are - were? - but don’t seem to care. “No offense, your Majesty,” Alys - a middle-aged mermaid with a coral-red tail, who wore her scars like the finest jewelry, “But we’re not exactly your subjects.” The wryness of her grin detracted some of the sharpness of her teeth; she promptly thrust a ceramic pot of cooked shellfish into Regis’ hands, with the instructions to ‘eat up - you’re far too skinny.’
The merfolk treat him with respect and affection, but not that owed between subject and ruler. It’s more like the kind shared between a vastly extended family - casual and almost teasing in nature. He’s - he’s just Regis here. He’s not a king, just another mer - one free to wander as he wills, to stay or go as he pleases.
Regis likes it.
There is so much to do, to explore, to learn - so many stories, so many adventures to be had if he so desires, and it would be easy, easy to spend lifetime after lifetime lost in the wonders of the deep.
But there are questions. Questions that need answers, answers that the tidefolk cannot - or will not - give.
“It’s really Mother’s story.” Mikkia - a tow-headed merman who delights in racing alongside dolphins tells them apologetically. “Hers, and Brother’s; you’ll have to ask them, but Brother isn’t here right now. Hasn’t come by for a few decades. Mother, though - she’ll probably tell you. If you ask.”
***
“Once, little king” Leviathan begins - and it is Leviathan now, the great, finned serpent of legend. Hunter, mother, guardian, goddess, inevitable as a tidal wave, older then the foundations of the earth - scales shiver, water rippling in her wake as she settles into place, coiling slowly around the ruins of a long-drowned temple. “Once, you offered me anything, if I would only save your son. It was a dangerous promise - yet one that your ancestor swore without thinking when the sword-master offered him a crown.”
Her eyes are larger then the world as they rest on the two merfolk - tiny beings, dwarfed by even the smallest of her fins.
“And yet it was not Somnus Lucis Caelum from whom the price was enacted. For the sword-master’s price was simple - very simple indeed. And it was such a little thing.” The words are acid between her jaws; her wrath darkens the water as her voice sharpens, and all the biting cold of the sea-born glaciers surges through her words.
“Anything, the Mystic promised. Anything.”
“The draconian gave unto him the prophecy. Somnus Lucis Caelum receive the Ring, the Crystal, and the prophecy that from him and his would stretch a line of kings unbroken until the Chosen King of his blood arose to scour the starscourge from Eos and earn fame everlasting. And Somnus Lucis Caelum accepted, and bound all his line to the same.”
“And the price? The price was simple. Such a little thing.”
“For the prophecy, for the promise, for the Ring and Crystal and a crown, Somnus Lucis Caelum sacrificed his brother.”
“His older brother.” And oh, but Leviathan watches as Regis’ face goes pure, pallid white as shock and realization break across him like a cresting wave. “His brother, who was the King of Light. Who forged Lucis from the shards of lost Solheim, who was a King as of old, who ruled with mercy in one hand and justice in the other. Who loved his people as the tides love the shore, who had sacrificed everything in their service - his life, his health, his dreams and hopes and ambitions - and who loved Somnus, with all the unreserved, unthinking love of an older brother.”
“T’was Somnus - Somnus Kinslayer, Somnus Kingkiller - who took up the hammer and drove the first nail home when he crucified his brother.” Leviathan’s voice continues, merciless as the sea which is her domain. “The King’s Shield who has sworn himself to the King of Light’s service, who had vowed loyalty until the stars faded and the seas boiled, until the mountains ground to dust and ash - t’was he who hammered the second nail through the flesh of the man he had sworn to protect.” And now it was Clarus who trembled as if someone had suddenly withdrawn the foundations of the world. “And it was the High Priest of the Draconian who struck home the third.”
“All Somnus Kinslayer had to do to gain everything he’d ever wanted was kill his brother. Wrench his crown from his head, and declare him damnatio memoriae. Take his deeds as his own, take his name for his own, declare his brother a deamon given human form - for the King of Light was a healer, you see.” Leviathan explained to the ashen forms of her Drowned. “A healer, who fought the Starscourge, the plague that haunted his kingdom, by taking it from the afflicted and drawing it into his own veins. The Draconian had come to him with a prophecy, you see - the King of Light had been told that it was his destiny to do this, to defeat the disease, and he did so gladly. Because he loved his people, and he believed in the sword-master’s promise. So he healed the starscourge and took the plague into himself - until his own blood ran black as night, and he screamed at the touch of sunlight.”
“That is the price that Somnus Kinslayer paid.” There is something of the abyssal in Leviathan’s smile - the lipless grin of the deep-dwelling fish, every movement a nightmare waiting to be born. “The life of his brother.”
“His brother, who was my Chosen.” Rage rippled through the waters. “My Chosen, who Bahamut would not even let die! ‘Cursed you are, and cursed ye remain, until the Chosen King of the Stone shall slay you’. He stole my Chosen’s death, condemned him to life in ceaseless agony, cursed him to exist as a walking plague - oh, my child. My Chosen, my tide-son, who danced along my shores and wove flowers through my hair. Who loved with the ferocity of the gale, of the hurricane, with all the deep and abiding loyalty of the deeps. Oh my child, my child, if I could I would have driven armies and madness across the earth and ocean to save thee, oh my son, my son - “
And the grief of the goddess was bitter, bitter on her tongue and her teeth as she mourned.
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1) “He’s a very respectable match.”
“And dinosaurs are very respectable creatures, but that doesn’t mean I want to marry one.”
“The count isn’t that old. You’re being ridiculous.”
2) “You could do worse. The countess will provide you with a comfortable life and much wisdom.”
“And a life support machine.” They continued stuffing their belongings in a bag, all set to run.
“Then nobody will notice when they die, leave you their ancient fortune, and I’ll come and live with you.”
“I don’t want to murder her! I just don’t want to marry her.”
“All I’m saying is that there are smarter ways to get what you want then running. They’ll only drag you back anyway.”
“…you have something in mind?” They asked their lover.
3) They looked at the young, foolish thing they were supposed to marry and felt a stab of amusement at their antics. At the least suitable match they could find dangling on their arm.
“So, we want to announce we got married last night,” the young royal declared.
Oh, this would definitely bring some life back to the palace.
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1) “He’s a very respectable match.”
“And dinosaurs are very respectable creatures, but that doesn’t mean I want to marry one.”
“The count isn’t that old. You’re being ridiculous.”
2) “You could do worse. The countess will provide you with a comfortable life and much wisdom.”
“And a life support machine.” They continued stuffing their belongings in a bag, all set to run.
“Then nobody will notice when they die, leave you their ancient fortune, and I’ll come and live with you.”
“I don’t want to murder her! I just don’t want to marry her.”
“All I’m saying is that there are smarter ways to get what you want then running. They’ll only drag you back anyway.”
“…you have something in mind?” They asked their lover.
3) They looked at the young, foolish thing they were supposed to marry and felt a stab of amusement at their antics. At the least suitable match they could find dangling on their arm.
“So, we want to announce we got married last night,” the young royal declared.
Oh, this would definitely bring some life back to the palace.
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jumpingjacktrash:
jeza-red:
thecollectibles:
Fairy and the peasant girl (for Mythbook 3) by Yuliya Litvinova
wooooow
i like how she’s grabbing for a stick. i know what happens next.
@elenothar
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jumpingjacktrash:
jeza-red:
thecollectibles:
Fairy and the peasant girl (for Mythbook 3) by Yuliya Litvinova
wooooow
i like how she’s grabbing for a stick. i know what happens next.
@elenothar
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softiesuggestion:
reblog if you want more interaction w your lovely followers
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softiesuggestion:
reblog if you want more interaction w your lovely followers
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it looks fucking awesome that’s what it looks like
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it looks fucking awesome that’s what it looks like
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unicornempire:
Big 2018 mood.
@sparklecryptid Ardyn?
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unicornempire:
Big 2018 mood.
@sparklecryptid Ardyn?
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i-am-now-gargamel:
This guy has some form of energy. Not sure what, but he has it
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i-am-now-gargamel:
This guy has some form of energy. Not sure what, but he has it
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