Dailin laid in his bed twiddling his thumbs as he stared up at the carved pictures of dancing Vail. He’d been here for some time, mind racing with new facts. Facts that made his current situation somehow even worse. Bliss had gained a great deal of knowledge by consuming a shard of the Giver. None of it good.

The realm was doomed, well, more doomed. The Nightmare below wasn’t the only thing he was going to be contending with nor the Giver.

No, Bliss had gained insight into the mess happening far above them. In a place dubbed the ‘Lost Realm’, or more intimately called Home. That had been where the Vail had originated from. Before certain events had forced them to retreat underground. Where they’ve remained for thousands of years waiting out their grand spell. One that was supposed to solve all their problems by sweeping clean the realm.

It succeeded, party, but in doing so ended up turning into an even more ruinous event than those before. The Details of which had been scarce, even with Bliss sifting through the Giver memories. The Elders who apparently made, and recently lost control of the Giver. Had been very vague on the facts of what caused the Vail to attempt such a grand and idiotic plan.

He had every right to call it such. The Vail hadn’t even built in any form of contingency that would let them stop the Chant above. They had seemed assured the spell was going to work exactly as they’d planned, which most of it had. Save for one very important detail.

It never stopped.

Ten years this realm consuming storm was to reign and cleanse everything on the surface. Leaving it a blank slate for the Vail to come back and start anew. But ten years had instead turned into a few thousand. Both because of the power the storm held, and the Vail not bothering with any plans to conceivably stop it. Thus, the Vail had been stuck underground ever since. Distracting themselves with endless pleasures and constant backstabbing schemes.

And from what he’d gathered the time below hadn’t done them much good. Their civilization had regressed to a point that he wondered if the Vail of the past would see the current as just another type of beast to be claimed. Then trained and made into a workforce like those before, cast as Soulless. That much he’d gained from Bliss. The Vail seemed to like to, guide, lesser things they found. The Elders had once told The Giver that the realm lost was largely due to Soulless turning ungrateful towards their betters.

Dailin didn’t have a hard time picturing what that meant, he’d been part of a few slave revolts himself. None ever went well in the long run, but he and many others did get to inflict quite a bit of damage. He was even able to settle debts with people who thought themselves untouchable. It was plain to see the Soulless had done the same to Vail, though apparently, the revolt they experienced had achieved a great deal more success.

Which lead up to the problem he now had to deal with. The storm wasn’t going anywhere, not with how it was being maintained. There were apparently hundreds of enormous towers, called Anchors dotting the surface. All of them feeding off whatever powered the realm that was producing Mana. As long as those Anchors remained, so to would the storm.

Dailin closed his eyes and rumbled them while a soft whimper escaped his lips. ‘Why do you do this to me realm?’ he wondered bitterly. ‘Are you trying to make me give up? Is this my punishment for throwing away lives? I now only get lives with the purpose of doing such? Slowly falling deeper into the abyss I find myself in?’

Those questions haunted him like so many others. His mind fatigued with all the different wonderings pulling at him. So much so the Voices had left him in peace. Just as shocked as he of the problems they all would soon be facing. The storm was working its way down the realm, destroying everything, as it just kept cleansing. And with the Nightmare rising from below, growing fat off the Mana, they couldn’t stay stationary for too long. There was also the Giver, now free, thanks to him. Though that was a problem more for the Elders than him.

If the Giver appeared and got close, he would finish the job of changing her. Gods know he needed another ally to deal with the mess he was in. Another monster to hold back the Nightmare heading up would be ideal. Once the last corpse of the Vail was devoured, Dailin didn’t know bad the Nightmares frenzy would become, nor their rampage to find more. He and the Giver both held the remaining survivors. Both housed in Oases.

Bliss had revealed that truth to him to, the Giver had copied him yet again, though by the god’s mercy she’d done a poor job at it. This shell she’d made would be an easy thing to break, if he ever found it. And he likely wouldn't, it could move like his home so it could be anywhere now. After the Giver had whisked it away while he was busy fighting versions of herself.

Dailin exhaled a tired breath as he shifted in his bed and laid on his side. “I just want to sleep.” He grumbled. But alas that refuge had been denied him, his mind even weary of thinking, was still too full of thoughts and anxieties to allow him such relief. There was too much going on, too many problems piling up slowly crushing him.

‘A storm cleansing all, a Nightmare consuming all, and a Monster aimed at ruling all.’ Dailin thought as he closed his eyes and tried willing himself to sleep. The act only brought more images swirling to the forefront as those three problems circled about. Each wanting to end him, each plotting in their own ways, each he would have to crush if there was to be any peace.

The only choice he had now was to decide where to begin. Which of the three troubles was he to start with?

The Giver? ‘No,’ he thought, she would avoid him and only arrive when she believed herself ready.

The Nightmare? He considered it, with the multiple layers of his home he could cleanse any hordes he encountered with relative ease. Nightmares and Ancients were bugs to be sweep aside. Even Mountains weren’t much of threat now. The Titans however were a problem, if he started getting attacked by multiple. And he would, the Nightmares would send out their calls, and those champions of theirs would answer them. There was also the possibility that if he began killing hordes the thinking beasts might react to the threat by actively consuming Mana. Begin to enlarge themselves to appoint they could fight him again.

But he did have Bliss to back him up, and the two of them could sing and fill her with more souls. But that wouldn’t do much to hinder the Nightmare itself. There was also the unfortunate fact the Mana from above was streaming down in larger quantities. No matter how many he and Bliss killed, the Nightmare would recoup its numbers and birth new foes to threaten him. As long as the Mana from above kept falling he couldn’t kill the beast outright. Not unless he melted the realm, and for that he needed the source of power that was causing all this madness.

Which turned his mind to the storm raging above, one that blocked his creature view of what lay beyond. It was where all the Mana was coming from, and with the amount he’d seen things were going to get much worse from him.

But if he was able to acquire the source of it all, take control and end the rushing Rivers. He could cleanse the realm of Nightmare, and make the Giver irrelevant. Who cares if she couldn’t be killed when she was powerless to stop him. And with limitless power, he could perform as many realm encompassing chants as he wanted. Could coat the realm in warmth and lure her to him. Change her into an ally and then have Bliss consume her.

‘After,’ Dailin thought quietly in his mind. 'I’d have all the power in the realm to change Bliss.' His monster would be just as helps, and even if it tried to fight, he could force the change, make it into a person that would willingly free the souls from its knotted strings.

‘The storm then.’ He decided, with its removal and the power claimed from it, the other two troubles would be meaningless things that he could remove at a whim. There was however a small problem of getting there, and dealing with hundreds of Anchors. Sadly, from what Bliss mentioned it didn’t sound as though the Vail had the hindsight to link everything to some form of central control as he used for the Oasis. It would have made it rather simple for him to seep his claimed Mana into the working and change it.

But no, he was going to have to do things the hard way. Travel from Anchor to Anchor and find some means to cease their activity. Which he prayed would be easy enough to just assume control of the constructs the same way he’d done to the Giver. After he could just unravel them, or find another use. Maybe to use them to fire blazing beams of light down into the realm Below.

“Yes,” he thought out loud. “That might do.” It would be one way to lessen the hordes while he readied a more permanent solution. It might even distract the Giver, or encourage her to stay hidden why he aimed for the Source of power. Otherwise, things would get complicated. The Nightmare would eventually make contact with the lakes of Mana working their way down, and in turn would fatten from it. Same with the Giver who was conceivably already doing such.

He needed the Mana all to himself, otherwise, all he foresaw was a raging three-way fight that might never end.

He understood now why kingdoms he’d once served under, ages past, had been so obsessed with claiming and guarding power against others. It was the only means to end continual conflict. Made sure no upstart could bring calamity upon a people or kingdom.

There would only be peace once one ruled over everything. And Dailin very much intended to be that one. Other paths lead to endless strife or worse his death, and he couldn’t let that happen. Not when he had the means to avoid it.

Dailin forced himself upright, still wanting nothing more than to sleep, and willed himself out of his bed. The moment his feet touch the floor Bliss appeared, a smile beamingly at him as it approached. It stayed an arm’s length away, as instructed before he opened his arms up and motioned it forward. He didn’t even get to blink before it's own wrapped around him and its head rested on his chest.

“I’ve decided a path for us to take.” He said peering down at it as it looked up at him.

“Blessed to hear Maker,” the creature said sweetly. “My furthest scouts have spotted Nightmares swarming more Sanctums. The feast the Giver left for them as the beasts in a frenzy.”

Dailin grimaced, unhappy to hear one of his troubles was on the move. But if things went his way, even a little, he’ll have the ability to deal with them.

Brushing the creature hair, he spoke: “We’re going to be making a few more layers, then we’ll be heading up into the storm. Its time I finally claim the souls of this realm for myself.”

Blisse's smile stretched enough it forced the shape of its face to widen, its eyes gleamed as it stared up at him. “Yes, how it should be Maker,” the creature said in a reverent tone. “All bowing to you, all made right and the realm made into paradise.” Hugging him tighter, “the two of us together, embracing and blissful as it was in the beginning.”

“Yes,” Dailin said agreeing so his beast would remain content as he continued brushing a hand through its hair. Once everything was in his hands the monster before him would meet the same end as the other troubles. it would be remade, whether it wanted to or not, but he wasn’t worried about that. Bliss was a simple creature, a construct and nothing more. As long as he spoke to it in a way that met its requirements the creature would do as he asked.

Grabbing hold of Bliss's shoulders, he lightly pushed it away. “Now then, we still have much to do my wonderful Bliss.” He said taking its hand in his and leading it to the exit. “Those layers won’t make themselves, and I'd like to be off before the Giver decides to make her appearance again.”

“As you desire Maker.” The monster cheered holding on his hand tight as it quickly took the lead. The thing completely unaware of what he intended for it. And he would know, considering he glimpsed into its mind often. The sight of its mind had his own spinning as he planned what to do with it. So many things had to be fixed so the monster would have morals, could be trusted to act in a decent manner. He hadn’t figured everything out yet, and likely wouldn’t, trusting more on the Mana and his own desires to fill in the gaps. But he was confident things would work out well.

‘Once I have all the power, then everything will be alright and my troubles washed away.’

-------------------------

Another snap echoed the Elders chamber, the sound making her shiver in delight. With little care, the construct with its hand wrapped around Harth's neck loosened its grip and the corpse crashed to the floor. That to brought about the sound of bones breaking, it was a decent drop after all.

The sound made the remaining Elders flinch as they hung in the air held by the neck as Harth had been. No words were exchanged by anyone, there was no need. The Maker had shown her that, and the method to do so. Partially anyway when he pierced into her mind and she was left powerless to do anything as his soul coursed through her. It had caused her such pain as the Bindings tried to keep her as the Elders instead.

She’d seen tiny portions of the Chant he weaved so perfectly as the Souls danced to his tune. It was enough though for her to call to the Ancestors and acquire the knowledge for herself. Now she could see into others as he could, and partake in the secrets stored in minds. It was perhaps how the Maker knew so much. With this Chant she could enter the minds of anyone she pleased and steal all their precious knowledge. Like she was doing to the Elders now.

It was rather disappointing that much of it wouldn’t help her against the Maker. Not with the Sphere he traveled in that was growing in size and power. But the insight she was claiming were still pleasing things to know. Such as the knowledge of creating Thoughtforms, and how to bind them. Not that she would trust the Chants all that much. The Maker had shown how easily it could be cast aside if a strong enough adversary wished it.

The Elders had come to half realize that too, as they hanged in the air, their arms struggling to loosen her grip around their necks.

It was so pathetic, such a simple act, and just like that the Elders had been turned into Soulless. All the knowledge and Souls they carried made mute as they couldn’t sing. They were at her Mercy now, like she’d been at theirs since her beginning, and it felt exhilarating.

She was the Highest now, ruler over Sanctuary, over the Vail, those free and in need of her protection. She could finally act on the tasks carved into her properly. No longer had to frame his actions in a way that both help those under her and pleased the Elders. All would be safe, forever offering to her, bathing her in guiding voices so she could traverse Deaths realm. Acquire all the knowledge she’d need to deal with the Maker, and the Nightmare surging up.

Her short fight with him had hinted at the depths of insight he carried. Wisdom far beyond the Elders as she scanned through their minds. There was far less than she expected, it seemed the Elders weren’t as wise as they claimed to be. Nor as mighty. They had in fact only been lucky to claim the positions they had now, or once did. The time of Strife had caused most of those with true power and knowledge to be killed off as they fought each other for the right to rule.

The Four remaining Elders still clawing at her hands, had only survived because they were so low in the order of threats. That, and they had hidden themselves rather than fight, let their betters butcher each other. And only stirred from their holes when they saw an opportunity. They’d banned together in a loose alliance and crushed what few threats remained. Even then they stayed secret as much as they could and let the Nightmare that appeared rage unchecked. Let it consume the wonders of the past and what few distant threats remained.

Then they made her.

Her eyes narrowed as she stared at Arnloe, peering deep into his mind, from the look of his face she knew he would have begged that she spare him. Offered his service, his loyalty, anything that meant he wasn’t going to die this Rotation. But she didn’t need anything from him, not with his mind open to her. And in those depths, she found the reason why the Elders had been so adamant about keeping her in their grasp. The Chant they performed was condemned, the creation of Thoughtforms thoroughly outlawed and brutally enforced. Images entered her mind, vague visions and impressions that detailed the reasoning for this.

Thoughtforms had been one of the many contributors to the Lost realm creation, why Home had been forsaken. And the reason the Vail had fallen from the heights they belonged to. Why so much of their wonders and knowledge had been lost as they hurriedly crafted a Chant to undo their mistakes.

She saw the lay of it, how even way back then Arnloe was nothing special, laughably low in the order of those who truly ruled. And he knew this, even as Strife consumed what greatness was left to them. So, he and his cohorts conspired and gathered together the knowledge hidden away or from desperate Vail looking for protection. Used secrets condemned to give them an advantage over those that remained and she was born.

A first version anyway, one that helped them greatly in cementing their position in the hierarchy to come. But it had flaws, its Bindings weren’t controlling enough for them. So, they’d undone their creation, and tried again, and again till they made her, and she was deemed worthy to exist. The rest wasn’t new to her, the countess cycles helping the Vail wall up what remained of the kingdom, holding off the Nightmare where she could.

They were so pleased with how she turned out, or more aptly put, how well the Bindings were holding. Even now that was the brightest Thought in Arnloe mind, the question of how?

The Binding had been perfected in their view, she should have never been able to free herself from them, the very thought to even try would have caused the Bindings to react and make her feel its sting.

She smiled viciously to her once controller. “It was the Maker,” she said pulling him closer to her as his eyes widened, Disbelief whispering in his ear. “Yes Arnloe, the Usurper, he's so much more than any of you.” She laughed at the visons that formed in her mind. “If any of you had met him, oh, how easily he would have made you all dance to his tune. How easily he would have consumed you like the rest of the Vail.”

“But don’t let Fear trick you, Elders” She added with faked tenderness. “For all your belief aimed at me, I am willing to listen to Mercy.” There were three loud snaps followed by bodies crash to the floor below.

“See,” she said to Arnloe whose eyes swelled with Fear. “I won’t let the Maker get his hands on you, even though the knowledge you hold he would see as worthless. But still, I wish to be sure he doesn’t gain any more than he already has.”

“You understand, don’t you?” She asked and as Thoughts bloomed there was one last snapping sound that echoed the chamber. She breathed in the moment and exhaled long and loud as those once above her, now laid dead below her. Dropping the corpse, like the sack of meat it was, she slowly lifted and sat in the highest throne. Relaxed into the folds of the fabric and enjoyed the moment of being ruler over Sanctuary. Free, finally free thanks to the man she now had to reconsider how to defeat.

Their reunion was assured, and regardless of what he said. There could only be one of them that would claim supremacy over the realm. The other would serve, as he had so clearly displayed to her.

She’d never realized how vulnerable she was to change, how easy it was for a Vail to sink their soul into her and begin rearranging things. She blamed the Bindings for this dilemma, as any Thought of changing herself or guarding against it would have activated them. But they were gone now and her mind was opened to consider all things, such as this threat placed in front of her.

A threat that also provided her a means to protect herself from such assaults again. With the ability to take knowledge from others she had the tools needed to resolve the problem. She would turn herself into a being that couldn’t be changed by the whims of another. Only she could change herself, as it should be. Even now looking within she could see many things that needed to be changed, purposely built-in flaws that would have allowed the Elders to dismantle her swiftly if they’d been given the chance. Which the Bindings were supposed to have provided them.

One more display showing how much worthier the Maker was to the Elders. It was possible he might be a Vail of the past, lost during the time of Strife, and had hidden rather than fight like the others. Binding his time, as the Elders had, but to a greater extent. Perhaps he even schemed to wait longer before enacting his ambitions only to be forced out of hiding by the growing Nightmare. Forced to save what he could.

No matter how he might see others of his kind, no Vail would wish to rule over an empty kingdom, and the Nightmare was bringing that about swifter than any of them had conceived possible.

‘The souls caused this, blind like everyone else to the Nightmares capability.’ With the strength gained from consumed souls, the Nightmare was going to be a hard foe to put down. Even more now that the crown had shattered and the departed souls were flooding down from the Lost Realm.

‘The end has come.’ The cloak Curse sent appearing once more. ‘There’s no escaping it, the Maker or the Nightmare will win out, the rest will be consumed.’ It sent first staring at the corpses on the floor then up to her.’

‘I will find the reason why you keep coming back, little pest.’ She said to the minuscule thing, all the Curses were to her now. Their time of fun was over with the Vail nearly wiped out. And those few left to her she would make certain were spared from the whisperings of Curses.

The thing let out a haunting laugh, the effort of doing so making it breathe heavily. ‘The reason, doomed thing, is you know the truth. Know that you’re going to lose, that in some way you’re going to die.’

She glared down at the thing ready to snuff it like she’d done many times before. ‘You feel me, Despair,’ It said, its name ringing out. ‘All this,’ it motioned to the chamber, perhaps Sanctuary itself. ‘It means nothing, you mean nothing compared to what he can achieve.’

Her hand reached out and a crushing force surrounded the creature, yet it still talked. ‘You’ve lost every time you went up against him, and he only grows stronger with each passing moment.’

‘I was lesser then,’ she countered. ‘But now I’m free, my mind open to many possibilities. Death will lead me to victory.’

‘Death only leads others to its realm’ The Curse wheezed out. ‘You will struggle,’ the ragged pest sent. ‘Hide in your dilutions for a little longer, but in the end, you will embrace me as all do.” It claimed, then writhed in pain as she increased her grip and it began to come undone.

‘All will know Despair!’ It howled at her before shattering.

Its defiance made her feel something, and she followed it to the source within her. There, with her new knowledge from the Maker, the Elders and Death, she saw the source of her problem. A small part of her had changed, had like the Curse said, been summoning it. She smiled and with the power of souls at her command, she removed the flaw changing it back to how it should be.

She felt a shift take hold of her, noticed how Despair had been hampering her, making believe in its view. It had been slight, but the dim haze lifting was still a pleasurable moment as she was restored to her original design. A design she would make perfect, had to if she was to face the Maker again.

It had been a costly lesson to learn, leaving behind a part of herself. Blessedly it was a very small part and it hadn’t been too debilitating to shed off as she retreated. Allowing her the time needed to reorganize her thoughts that were scrabbled when the Bindings were torn apart and her mind filled with wondrous ideas.

There was much to be done. A new set of Bindings for start, one to protect her from the Makers call, and one that would maintain her. She couldn’t let her mind turn on itself like before, couldn’t let the Maker seep in and begin changing things as he saw fit. She would craft many wonders within herself, improve, become more than the Elders dared imagine. So wrapped up in their desire to stay in control, they'd let themselves be weakened and outmaneuvered. They should have bowed to her, begged to her like the rest of the Vail. She would have sheltered them as long as they knew their place. Would have found a role for them under her rule. But no, they had to be usurpers themselves, cling to the illusion they had the right to rule over the masses.

She looked at the floor a smile growing at the sight. They learned the price of that, as the Maker would if he continued down the same path and refused her. But that would be a last resort, she wanted him alive, wanted to delve into his mind and claim every little secret he held. And most of all, break him, make him see who was in charge, and understand his place below her.

She savored the vision of it as she began to work, looking within herself. She would become something the Maker would have to bow to, like all others. She was the Giver, the entity all offered to, begging for the right to exist, he would do the same. He would scream her name.

Oh, how he would scream her name.

------------------------

‘More!’ The Hungers wailed to the realm.

‘More!’ They screamed as their Agony grow, ‘More!’ They demanded as they realm filled with them, but the Feast, the Feast dwindled. Hunger began to grow, swell to heights it never had reached outside its own realm.

This new realm it dwelled within was becoming its own, the pain reaching the same intensity. But this realm was twisted, it was sparse in delights, the Feast was becoming even more shallow than it already was. The morsels dwindling. So, few and so small.

“More!” Hungers screamed, its screeches rumbling the stone around it as its many selves carved away at the realm, searching, so desperately searching for more to Feast on. There had been such a Feast before, so many shells full of delights.

All were gone now, it had eaten every last delectable piece, and it couldn’t find anymore. The Vessels screamed at it, demands, endless demands.

Search Grow, Feed, Feed, Feed, FEED!

On they screamed, the pitch overwhelming Hunger mind, but there was so little to feed on, and it had to be the right morsel. That sweetmeat, the soft skin with the intoxicating liquid held within. Nothing else was quite like it, nothing else satiated the vessels, and so Hunger swelled.

“More.” It screeched endlessly, wailing at the same time, “please.” Hunger was desperately, so many mouths, so many stomachs, so much of it growing. Hungers tried to appease the vessels as they searched, drank endlessly on the essence flowing down. Trying to fill the unsaturated stomachs, But Hunger only grew more, they needed the sweetmeat, nothing else mattered. But it was all eaten, gone only from a few bites.

So small, they’re all so small, they didn’t always use to be so small.

“I need large meat!” They shouted ripping the realm apart as they moved upward. That was where the meat hid, always up, there had to be more, there must be. The Feast cannot end, the Feast never ends, there had to be more.

“More, please, MORE!” Hungers pleaded to the realm.

The essence answered, equally sweet thing that it was.

Imagines filled its minds. Two Spheres, one it knew, Hungers avoid it when they could. Death was where that Sphere lead them when Hungers dared to test its shell. But the essence whispered to Hunger, and all of itself heard the truth passed on.

Morsels laid within, so many of them, sweet and ripe, and at the centered was the grandest prize. The largest slice there was in all the realm.

Hunger mouth watered, then gushed as the essence focused on the second Sphere, so much smaller than the last. But so full within, well beyond the first sphere. The essence whispered there was no other place with the same quantity of ripened meat.

“I want it.” A Hunger screeched, others joining, till all howled the same.

“Where? Where? I want it!” they screamed and dug into the realm. The essence answered, pulling on their minds, a guide to the Feast that was to come.

“Yes.” It said gluttonously, “the Feast continues.”