…And the deepest cut is the one no one sees coming.
-Zein Thousandhand
28-15
Hope Forgotten (II)
The Hungers raged, spewing venom with each word. They arrived like a storm cloud forming over the court. With the recession of the Heaven of Truth's cosmology, a swelling patch of darkness pooled above, forming a third boundary between Veylis's paths and the Stormsparrow's stage.
The swirling maw of darkness twisted and splashed, like waves displaced by an erging mountain. The first ridges of the City Eternal presented themselves. Dragons cycled through each other like torturous implents, burrowing through one another's forms. Golden blood spilled out in the shadows, diluting the deepness of the nether.
A vast cityscape of countless ziggurats, canals, and accretions greeted Avo's perception. With each passing second, the oppressive atmosphere only intensified. But unlike before, Avo didn't feel suffocated. Though the Hungers were still superior in cognitive bulk, Avo was sothing else entirely—a being aligned with the nature of cognition, while the Hungers were rely its source.
Traitors! Traitors and bastards all! the Hungers bellowed. The rejection of their rage fell like an anvil of hatred. Countless Saintists cried out, their wards cracking beneath the onslaught. Static composed the Infacer, who shivered as if grains of dust caught in torrential gales. But the Neo-Creationist mind endured, as did all those under Avo's protection. When the Hungers projected their rage, the Burning Drear beca their bulwark, shielding them from any chance of nullification.
And so it was that Jaus stood, a man rising above the porcelain mask that roofed the Storm Sparrow's stage. Ghosts flicked from his form as he levitated, carried by Avo's will. As he erged atop the Storm Sparrow's stage, he stood like an unshaken oak before the tantrum of a distant hurricane, with a dissonant placidity. With this sa contrast, he spoke, all eyes on him and the Hungers, across New Vultun and beyond. Seen from the void, Avo felt a convergence of perceptions—of his templates, of the citizens and subjects of this wretched, ruined, wounded, yet magnificent world.
Greetings, Masters of Noloth, Jaus said, without any hint of insult or mockery. He pursed his lips as he regarded the Hungers, sampling their sweltering fury. Ti has not done you well. The wound at your heart has grown ever sicker. A sense of sadness crept over his expression. I had hoped that you would have learned bitterness or so form of temperance, found so asure of release, despite all that you have suffered, despite all you intended to inflict.
Temperance? Bitterness? The Hungers were aghast. Composed of countless millions, the collective consciousness beca an orchestra of disordered outrage. You wretched bourbon, you... How do you even speak these words? Where do you get the breath? Where do you get the boldness?
Because it is the truth, Jaus replied, without any sense of hesitation. I have always desired to bring about the best future for everyone—not just my people, not just for the Guilds, but for you as well. Because I considered you one of mine—my compatriots, my burdens, my charge, those I wished to bring into the light, into an eternal future of glory and bliss, never to end.
Then Jaus fell silent and contemplative. But that was never to be, for you wanted more than bliss, you wanted more than glory, you wanted dominance and control. Fear, fear was what consud you, and fear was what I wished to cure in you, every ti we spoke, every conversation we traded. But I must ask you to forgive now, for I am but a man, and you are a civilization, one that lived in darkness, one that festered in the underbelly, away from the prying gaze of slavering gods. I was not enough. I apologize, but you were also not enough for yourself. That is not an apology I can offer on your behalf.
Avo didn't know how, but the outrage of the Hungers only grew. Yet how little that mattered. What worth was the impotence of an exiled kingdom, cut low before they could ever be a true threat to the Guilds, a genuine power in their own right?
You did this to us, the Hungers said, their voices low and mournful. For years, you cast us to the other side, used us as a fulcrum for your twisted benefits. The Nether, this realm of ours, ford of thoughts, the substance of our immortal souls, used as little more than a canvas, a dung heap for everyone to exploit. We are here, we drink your wasteful dreams, your traumas, all that you do not wish to rember, detritus and filth, staining the waters in which we drift. And as we bleed, that becos the substance of your ntal nectar, those dreams you inhabit, those paradises you construct within your own minds. The best from us, and the worst from you. That is what you did to us, Jaus Avandaer.
My dream, Jaus said, cutting the Hungers off with a resolute declaration, was to incorporate you into my plans to co. Instead, you forced my hand and made engineer your exile. And before you speak next, acknowledge what you intended to do. Acknowledge your desire to claim the minds of everyone within New Vutun. To betray all who stood alongside you during the gods' fall, just out of fear. Out of the desire to be the sole inheritor of our great deeds and darkest sins.
I did not cut you down in an act of injustice. No, Noloth, you were sealed away for your sake and ours. The creation of the nether, likewise, was another necessity. No more heavens that rule over minds could be made, or down that path too much sorrow lay. For the self-determination of a human is one of the few privileges they might ever know. And to take that, to determine the limits of that…
Jaus cast his gaze downward, staring through the colorful mask that had once endured the bombardnt of cosmological cataclysms. Horrifying, Jaus finished, regarding Avo.
And yet look at us now, the Hungers said, referencing the very sa thing Jaus was contemplating. The Burning Drear, our bastard legacies entwined. You say you did not wish for the mind to be made a heaven, for there to be another god of cognition. Well then, Jaus Avandaer, we mock you. We laugh at your wretched fate. For in whose embrace do you lay? For by whose whims do you exist?
"My own," Jaus replied, giving the Hungers a smile. "It is my act that seed to set all this in motion—everything I have done to engineer a proper future, a foundation for what is to co."
A proper future for what? Determined by whom? You? You and your family? The Hungers' voice was thick with disdain.
No. Gods, no. Jaus laughed. His chuckles were mirthful, yet humorless. For the first ti, a sense of sha entered him. He looked upon Veylis, slowly coming asunder, split by a blade across ti.
Then why didn’t you talk to us before? the Hungers finally asked. Where was this rcy you desired to offer, this clency?
Jaus simply stared at them. “I have spoken to you countless tis, but where my failing was hope, yours was fear. Fear that you could not maintain control. Fear. Sa as all the other guilds. Sa as my daughter. Sa as any other power in this world.” He gestured toward the gatekeeper and shook his head. “The truth is that I never intended to reign over you. I, too, am bound for servitude beneath the whims of a more rational master. A more rational mind.”
The Hungers stopped, all of a sudden. Dragons that composed the continents of its civilization shuddered as the wide eyes lining the cracks between their scales glared down upon the sunken form of the gatekeeper. Where once the gatekeeper had seed an angel of chains, its mind and body composed of shifting links, now it was a ruined amalgam of tal and radiant wounds, broken by Veylis and split from its purpose.
"Truth,” it murmured, projecting a power all its own unto the world. With each passing mont, an aura of disbelief grew, plunging down from the Hungers and drowning everyone. Slowly, laughter began to rise from the citizens of Noloth—humorless, joyless laughter, laughter of disbelief.
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Really? This? This thing? This is what you would have chosen? To reign over us? To be our steward unto the future? This is your desired lord?
“Yes,” Jaus replied, without a hint of sha.
“No,” Veylis countered, standing in opposition to her father. Even as her flesh ca apart, even with her head split clean in two, she could still glare upon the gatekeeper and project her own scorn. “No, I will not be ruled by anything lesser than sothing worthy of true power. Father, you speak of projected fear, yet fear has unmade you, stripped you, and diverted you from glorious ascent.” Veylis held out an arm, performing an almost pleading gesture toward her father. “Be you a node, be you an illusion, it matters not. You are icon enough, the symbol of the savior. Hear my words now and know them to be true. I, Veylis Avandaer, will accept nothing less than the reign of the worthy, the reign of the powerful.”
Her voice took on a dangerous edge. “The gatekeeper is not born of struggle nor strife. It is an instrunt taken by a ti of tribulation, a ti that failed their tribulation. Voidwatch has given us much, granted us a second lease on life and wonders beyond wonders. Yet despite the power of our cousins, despite all they had achieved, we sit here, we dwell here, we suffer here because of their actions. And this is a truth above all other truths. And that is why we must be enough. You and I, Father, but especially you.” Her voice softened with pain. “You could have been more. You could have taken more. You could have been empowered more. Yet you turn away because you are—” her voice trailed off, almost pained, “too human.”
She paused, her expression filled with conflicted emotions. “I love the humanity in you, but it is poison. It is poison for you, and it is poison for . As you were afraid of seeing born into a world of strife, I was sickened to see you unmanned by the temptations of peace. Totality necessitates a strong hand. And to see you cede power in fear of what you might beco, what promise might make of you, that broke my heart most of all.”
"What you want of is beyond any man, Veylis," Jaus said, a mournful tone consuming his voice. For the first ti, the savior was gone, and there stood only a father, spent beyond the asure of his strength. "I am just a man, Veylis. What you wish for to do, what you desire of , it is more than any human can bear, more than any mind can endure."
"And so we must progress," Veylis continued, her aggression taking hold. The High Seraph could not be denied now, even as the Heaven of Love spread sores across what little organic tissue lined her bifurcated face, even as she slowly drew closer to a temporary demise. "We are human. We co into this world barely more than animals, screaming, wailing, blind, and drowned in sensation, soiling ourselves, painting our bodies with filth, and crying out at the indignity of our suffering. Yet in this world that becos our cradle and our tomb, we strive, we slay. Within us burns a breath of ambition, a desire to beco and to surpass.
"The bones of our enemies beco our spear tips and axe handles. The sky becos a veil we will try to go beyond, to seek further mysteries, to master the fla that burns us and enslave it to our own desires. That is what it ans to be human, Father. Not enough now? Then find a way to be more—more, progress, ascend, beco."
And with those words, a resonant cetery rang within Avo. Now more than ever, cold dread seeped through the Burning Drear, and he realized that the High Seraph might have been closer to him in spirit than any other. But where she was fear, where she was all about dominance, he was about experience. He cared nothing for rulership; he simply wanted to beco, while she wanted to be above all others.
A look of pure heartbreak passed across Jaus’s face. He did not respond to his daughter imdiately. Instead, he simply shook his head. "Did you ever get to live the life you desired, my girl? Did you ever beco an archaeologist? Did you ever delve into the mysteries of bygone empires, search through ruins, sample their mysteries? Did you do any of this? Did you have a family? Did you spread your joy?"
"This is a privilege not afforded to us," Veylis said. "We are at war."
"You chose war!" Jaus interrupted. "I wanted you to have peace. I did not cause the gods’ fall for my own privilege, for my own benefit. I wanted to see you experience the dream, for everyone to experience the dream, to have a second chance at utopia, one that our forefathers failed to achieve, one that we might be able to bring into fruition. It was for you—all of you—but you didn’t want peace. None of you did."
At that mont, Jaus gestured towards Avo as well, while looking at the Hungers. "Look upon us," the savior laughed, slightly hysterical. "Look upon us and see this tragicody. We gave so much to ensure our legacy, and yet, they don’t realize, they don’t appreciate, and they never wanted it. All that we have done, it is for our own selfish desires, projected onto our children. And in the end, what was it for?"
The Hungers spoke no more. Their hate still burned, but now there was a discomfort, also staining their wounds like an infection kissed by salt.
Releasing a sigh of despair, Jaus looked around and asked aloud, "Where is Naeko, Veylis? Bring him—bring him out, bring him to . He deserves to speak to as well. I have missed him too. Let see my son-to-be, but never who never was.”
The High Seraph stood unmoving, like a tombstone rather than a person. And in the silence, a chorus sang out,
AND AS THE GRIEF REACHES ITS HEIGHT, THERE IN THE DARKNESS, A TRAITOR PERFORMS AN ACT OF TRANSGRESSION, TOWARDS UNUSUAL DELIGHTS.
Avo looked upon the Storm Sparrow, but she simply shook her head. "The chorus sings, but I do not know. Again, I am rely the star, and not the writer of the show."
—[rcy]—
From the perspective of countless famines, rcy looked on at the miserable scene. But slowly, thoughts inside him were turning, turning faster and faster. There would be no way he could strike at Jaus Avandaer—not with the InFacer there, not with the High Seraph there, and certainly not with Avo there. There were too many points of failure, and the Gatekeeper was still too powerful.
Yet, Jaus wasn’t the only fulcrum upon which New Vultun rested. There was also another, another that held even more importance. Another that composed the beating heart of the nether. With the shard of defiance added to him, the path between loyalty and treason grew ever thinner. But if he was going to do what he just thought, if this epiphany he gained was to be turned to actual action, then there would be no road back. Betrayal and service would beco one and the sa.
What are you thinking? Defiance asked.
I am thinking that the city needs a proper king, rcy replied, gazing upon Avo. I am thinking, thinking of how to disrupt all the pieces on this board, to strike a clean blow, and grant him a path forward, and grant us an opportunity to crown him with the City Eternal.
And how will this be done? Defiance asked.
With the warmind, the Forgotten. Your suggestion remains true, but the target has changed.
And who is the target now? Defiance whispered, his voice almost treasonous.
The Hungers, of course, rcy replied. Who else? Who else could see this coming? And who else holds the balance to the nether?
You know, if you do this, there will be no road back for us.
There was never any road back, rcy said. This was sothing that needed to be done a long ti ago. And it’s only after your incorporation that I see it. The Hungers are masters individually. They were legends, artisans, geniuses, wonders all. But together, together they are fearful. Together they are so small and wretched. And so, what we need now is a radical transformation for our civilization and a new path forward. This mont, this place, the Court of Truth and the Gatekeeper—it will be our witness, and it will be our channel. There is no other opportunity, and there is no other way. Noloth will return as a power unless it is transford.
Defiance simply smiled beneath his hood. Well, the Hungers did ask to be burned.
That they did, didn’t they? rcy said. And with that, he cast his mind out to all the Famines of Joy before seizing them for his own use.
—[Avo]—
The space around the Hungers disordered. The feeling was faint at first, but then it grew stronger. Avo noticed a disappearance in the nether. It was like an absence forming across the vastness of the cognitive realm. They were shaped as if teeth closing around the City Eternal. And as they drifted forth, he prepared himself and marked the details on his cog feed for all connected to his mind to see.
Yet it was not he who needed to be worried.
As Jaus and Veylis sparred verbally, the Hungers reeled back, giving a cry of alarm. Wait, what is this? Which one of you— No! Stop! Wait! No! Not—this won’t—RCY, I WILL—
And without warning, without preamble, and without a hint of explanation, the jaws of sothing unseen clamped down on the City Eternal. And all of a sudden, and the full weight of the collective Nether suddenly felt lightened as a cognitive disruption unlike any other swept through Avo and every other sophont on Idheim.
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