《Femalekind Book Two》2.034 The Final Act
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[Maintaining your presence on the Spirit Plane; you lose 1% existence. Current Total 20%]
Several gentle hands under my arms ease me upright, my lack of solid form seemingly not a hindrance in this instance. Their touch isn’t only the spirit version of physical I quickly realise, their strong emotions supportive as well, genuine affection with multiple smatterings of heartfelt love. Why do I deserve their affection? I have done nothing but flee ever forward, escaping from Azizos in the beginning and Zeus at the end coupled with each evolution leaving a trail of lesser or greater deceit behind me. Is that not cowardly?
I float upon their shoulders – when? Did my self-examination so isolate my consciousness? My eyes now open, I am content to observe, enjoying the freedom of allowing others to guide me. They rush me through the cobble stone streets of the Snake Kin City, the shops, and residences either side are closed, inside only darkness. Empty. A city bereft of habitation, soulless. I must remember where I am, this is my first visit to the centre of my worship, yet no one comes and goes, no hustle and bustle for me to appreciate and therefore I am unable to immerse myself in the experience, a façade or stage without actors. There is a disconnect, the paint upon this Spirit Plane canvas is lifeless. A sadness wells up within me as I realise my inability to add detail due to the lack of any memories makes my journey plain and therefore less. My stumbling rise deserves no more. Impossibly my mouth runs dry or at least my brain tells me so.
Descending from upon their shoulders my bare feet caress the grand marble of a perfect semi-circular stairway which arcs out before the entrance of my grand Cathedral. The white marble columns … they remind me of another architecture, foreign, even to this world … upon them a gable is finished with a triangular pediment. Only carvings in the likeness of Zeus are missing … what has my Arch Priest constructed in my name?
I vault up the steps of my Cathedral, my will blasting open the giant twin stone doors at the entrance. Light streams in behind me illuminating a familiar figure.
“Welcome Aphrodite!”
The doors slam shut and the main worshipper section, the nave, plunges into an eerie shadow. I evolve a set of eyes most suitable and the interior is once again plain to me. His confident smirk, his swagger … irritates.
Flashes and then pain. Sorcery! He rewards my surprise with a boisterous cackle.
[Successful Spirit Strike; you lose 1% existence. Current Total 19%]
This is my place of worship! He is my Arch Priest and yet he defies me. I exert my will upon him, stretching out, he observes, his arms fling wide, relaxing, basking in fact so certain is he and all the while grinning.
[Exerting your Will; you lose 1% existence. Current Total 18%]
My attempt to crush his presence instead slips off and slides around him, a cocoon of protection envelopes him. His sinister laughter pierces my being, what have I created?
“I wield all your worshipper’s offerings Goddess … the offerings meant for you and instead without, you are a whisp, smoke …”
Several flashes and pain follows. His head dips to one side, a confident smirk upon his lips.
[Successful Spirit Strike; you lose 1% existence. Current Total 17%]
The pounding on the Temple doors echoes the pounding within my mind … more of this and I will be reduced to nothing and then thrown out of the Spirit Plane. Yes, thrown out, the outcome I need … I raise my head to ensure my eyes reach into his dark betraying heart.
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“I declare Arch Priest Allene Corser Excommunicated. I extinguish your authority to represent me before my followers, to access any Divine or Faith Magic in my name, I claim back the honorific, which you no longer deserve.”
[Exerting your Will; you lose 1% existence. Current Total 16%]
The Greek style interior flashes out of existence, the plain functional style interior I would expect unfolds before my eyes, confirming my will. Two layers of the same building, both in the same place challenge for ownership to establish a single truth. He or another has created this second layer and has begun the conversion to enamour a Greek Pantheon, perhaps to summon them or seal an agreement.
More flashes and pain.
[Successful Spirit Strike; you lose 1% existence. Current Total 15%]
There is another will present maintaining the second layer. Allene attacks while the other conquers the discrepancy, trying to join the two into one and enforce their reality.
“I declare Cult Spirit Magus Drexel Marner Excommunicated. I banish his right to reside in any place of worship consecrated in my name, to access any Divine or Faith Magic in my name, I cast him into the void of the Spirit Plane.”
[Exerting your Will; you lose 1% existence. Current Total 14%]
There isn’t a scream. One layer, the layer created by Bellas on my behalf stabilises. Allene the traitor bends over, his teeth clenching and unclenching and from between his lips a single word, no. Eyes wide he stares and then turns away, stumbling although not falling, catching himself like a well-practiced drunk. Declared an enemy of my faith, the Cathedral consecration protections attack him. I am certain without confirmation my Arch Priest would have ensured my Cathedral constructed to his design, would be one blessed with formidable defences.
In an instance of thought I am beside him and with my wraith like existence I envelope him. His lips move, swearing I would guess.
[Exerting your Will; you lose 1% existence. Current Total 13%]
My presence can’t stop him, only hinder and all the while the protections attack the trespasser. He crosses the transept, away from the twin doors … away from freedom? No, beyond the front doors are my allies …
[Maintaining your presence on the Spirit Plane; you lose 1% existence. Current Total 12%]
Now? Why? I walk for days and no existence is lost, and yet during conflict … no, this makes sense, Bellas created and I journeyed, easy. Here and now a contest of wills and the wielding of actions. If only my worshippers’ faith reached me in full.
“Give back what is mine you betrayer!”
“You betrayed me first Goddess!” he snarls, breaking his silence.
What betrayal? Possibly a deceit I have forgotten. The shock of his accusation slams into me and I check myself, allowing my former worshipper to slip from my feeble willow like grasp. I recover as he reaches the utmost rear of the Cathedral and in a moment, I drape myself over him once again.
[Exerting your Will; you lose 1% existence. Current Total 11%]
He tries to shake himself free of me and failing he speaks again his ethereal face twisting with spite.
“A boon you were to grant me upon conversion of the Frost Giants, our love consummated my dream …”
I slide off him, mouth open, lost for words and in that moment, I see his now free hand reach for a lever, the stone carving of my harpy form a lifelike masterpiece. I can imagine our struggle, his arm reaching, my weight trying to prevent him, the Cathedral protections attacking him, all of which he avoids with his outrageous declaration as he slips through a bolt hole in the Cathedral wall.
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Beyond the opening, the manicured emerald green grass I gaze upon confirms he is free. I rush through as a cloud of swirling mist, my form lost as I hold onto a single focus – him.
The search is quick, he squats upon the white stone boundary wall of the Cathedral grounds, smug expression upon his face.
“Do you feel it yet?”
I don’t understand … then there is a gravity upon me … my wisp shape fails to reform as I struggle to coalesce. As a dispersing formless cloud without self-control, I sink into the Cathedral lawn.
“You have no Arch Priest Goddess Aphrodite.”
His pause deliberate. He knows why I fade away and is savouring every moment …
Belly shaking laughter floats over me. “Your Divine Dominate Goddess … is less now.”
[Warning: Divine Dominate about to disperse due to lack of Arch Priest.]
The rules flash before me, my failure to maintain one hundred percent Divine Dominate … but how? The Arch Priest anointment doesn’t grant Divine Dominate …
With the last of my will, I form a face within the grass. “I will return, you will pay for your betrayal …”
“Not before I triumph, while you my dear Goddess.” His head shakes side to side while he tut-tuts. “Lacking an Arch Priest means you no longer have the hierarchy to support a Cathedral, which of course invalidates your quest … a hilarious tumble of building blocks.” He continues shouting in jubilation, “Excommunicating me throws you back to square one, so I win.”
I am not finished yet I scream to no one, because my complaint doesn’t find voice. My face losses form prior and with this failure I am unable to speak further.
“Goddess, arise and be renewed …”
Did I receive an actual missive, or imagine the words in my failing mind? Perhaps they are one and the same?
(Arch Priest of Goddess Aphrodite anointed: High Priest Alasse.)
[Divine Dominate dispersal stabilises; Divine Dominate reduced to 100%]
I rise forming my eyes first, imagining them bright red and blazing. They celebrate by witnessing the unfolding vision of despair before them as Allene’s jaw drops, his eyes growing wide.
“How,” he splutters.
[Worshipping grants existence; you gain 1% existence. Current Total 12%]
My new Arch Priestess supports my presence and I wonder how my quest would have been if Allene did the same.
My first thoughts are of revenge, to knock him off the wall he squats upon and squash him. I am unsure of the cost though, my Divine Dominate is on the brink and although my existence improves to twelve percent, I am barely more than a shadow and I am yet to complete my Quest. He realises the same I suspect as his hands finish rubbing his face, eyes locking onto mine.
“An Arch Priest anointed so quickly … the only explanation … the how now unimportant.” He raises an eyebrow. “You are cautious, pity. It is time for me to find a new purpose, perhaps I will return to my own.”
I manifest my Sphinx evolution within, as I feel the need to apologise for my neglect or at least the misunderstanding which led him on this path as my intent was always another reward. I am certain, even if I knew his expectation I would have refused as I am Mother, and my progeny is of my own conception as I was conceived by my Creator. Prometheus’ way is my way.
[Exerting your Will; you lose 1% existence. Current Total 11%]
The innate spell [Remove Curse] completes in an instant and his form reverts. He, now a she, falls off the wall.
[Exerting your Will; you lose 1% existence. Current Total 10%]
In a flash her head and shoulders appear above the wall. “Why?” Allene screams.
“Is this not what you want, to return to your feminine form? I thought this the reward you sort …”
A sorrow fills her eyes … she still wishes, hopes for our union … after betrayal, after excommunication. Why?
“Do you not think the Magus didn’t offer the same …”
I close my mouth. I thought the Magus held the removal of the curse over my Arch Priest, clearly not the case. The ramifications altogether different, Allene a willing partner? My heart aches.
“You don’t understand, do you, so I will make it plain. My love for you burns as fiercely as my hate, that is what you have driven me to and that is what the Magus leveraged without any resistance from me. With your return after failing your Quest I would be there to console you as your Arch Priest. A chance to remind you of our true love … that is all I wanted …” Her head drops, forehead resting on intertwined fingers upon the wall, unconcerned by what I may do while her eyes are off me.
For me to do anything I would need to leave consecrated ground, is that his intent? “You will never regain the trust you have lost.” I state the obvious playing for time, waiting for her next move when I should be charging, the obvious choice.
Lifting her head, she answers, “No, I won’t but I don’t need to, because in this moment I have decided to accept a Greek gift, for I am promised another Aphrodite …”
“Not the Greek Pantheon, Zeus can’t be trusted,” I call out interrupting her.
“Such passion in your condemnation Goddess, weren’t you a former Priestess of Zeus?”
“Yes, so I know firsthand he uses and then discards, you will be a nothing to him once you have fulfilled your part, which I assume is inviting that perverted Pantheon back into Neoedafos.”
Her smiling lips fade as does the rest of her and now I am alone.
The clash of weapons reaches my ears, and, in an instant, I stand upon the circular steps before my Cathedral and assess the conflict in progress in my name. Ames bellows orders from above the battle, which my Dungeon spawned troops obey. In the main Lizard Kin are their opponents pushing and shoving, while hewing any before them. I sense the presence of Tor before I spy him, leading his crusade of vengeance from the front relishing the destruction he rains down upon lessor beings, the ultimate bully.
“Is it justice you seek or false vengeance Godling Tor?”
His head twitches as he continues his downward killing stroke, the sole acknowledgement of my accusation.
The battle line before the aspiring Godling withdraws and Lizard Kin flood in while Tor stands back, his sharp teeth on display, leathery lips curling in triumph. He hasn’t been paying attention beyond his immediate surrounds as elsewhere the God of War has been manoeuvring my troops via alleys, lanes, and streets for tactical advantage, allowing an illusion of victory to his opponent. My Dungeon troops hold the crossroads, while the Snake Kin of Bellas lob their elemental destruction upon the ranks of Lizard Kin behind the front lines. My appearance on the steps of the Cathedral an unknown to me, trigger for the final act.
Ames howls into action, the Dog of War clearing all before him, Tor unable to confront my War Leader without clearing his own Kin first. Impatient he calls them back and shortly the God of War and the God of Justice face one another hefting their weapons while eying their opponent.
Tor launches the first strike, weapon on high, brutal downward stroke his biceps straining. A grimace on the maw of the God of War is the only outward reaction as he darts in and under the arc of Tor’s swinging weapon. Brute force no match for finesse as Ames’ strikes through Tor’s exposed throat.
Such a strike would ordinarily mean death for the Godling and destruction of his Divine Spark and role; on the Spirit Plane such a result is simply defeat.
[Runes Truth and Mastery are available to be claimed.]
Ames’ head snaps around, his eyes find mine.
“I would not become a God of Justice. I would be a War God with the capability of True Death as that is where my Mastery lays. Those who I or my worshipers slay would be vanquished forever, body and spirit destroyed the memory of their deeds lost for all time. The campfires of an army would be bereft of the warmth of war stories about bravery and sacrifice and so I decline.”
I must reassess my God of War, I assumed he would have grasped such power without question and yet he believes there is some nobility in war or at least comradeship and the dead should never be forgotten by the living soldier. Is anyone truly dead when others recall them in stories and tales, their memories of the fallen gifting them life when at their most valiant, when they shine brightest and perhaps, just perhaps able to embolden those who listen so they can face the possibility of death in the next battle.
The Mastery Rune appeals to me, although I am uncertain which of my other Runes would be influenced, one, three or all and to what outcome. Can a God personify five Runes?
“Goddess?”
His deep rumbling voice identifies him, so I merely nod.
“Would this servant of yours be too forthright in requesting he claim the Runes?”
Nasim the Stone Giant, God of Justice … I would like to see that!
“Approach Ames, God of War and ask him.”
Hands by his sides and head slightly bowed Nasim wades through my troops until he reaches the open ground, the clearing in which Ames and Tor briefly fought. I note how Ames’ eyes follow my worshipper through the crowd, his brow wrinkling, contemplating. As Nasim takes a knee before the God of War, Ames glances at me, I smile but no more. This decision is his to make without fear or favour from me.
The former Dog Kin bellows out peals of laughter, throwing his head back. “They are yours ...”
Two glowing runes, golden and bright are drawn from Tor and smack into Nasim, who rocks back as he absorbs both, needing to push off the cobbled road with his grey stone-like hands to rise.
[Adding Dominion Justice God: One who personifies this role without prejudice anointed – Spirit of Stone Giant Nasim; Granting Divine Spark, anointing Neophyte God of Justice. Realms: Truth, Mastery. No physical body, therefore, God will reside on Spirit Plane until God Plane created. Warning: May be banished from Pantheon by Good God if/when appointed.]
(Justice Role of God Nasim: Your worshippers will be inspired to protect and save the grateful and the ungrateful from injustice in the Dominion. Slay monsters both real and those who hide behind the protections of civilisation and/or tradition to work their misery.)
(Divine Dominate: Realm of Truth +5%, Realm of Mastery +5%, Consecrate Shrine +1%, Consecrate Site +3%, Consecrate Temple +5%, Anoint Initiate +1%, Anoint Adept +3%, Worshippers > 640 +6%. Total > 22% = Minor God of Justice Nasim.)
The Lizard Kin opposing my Dungeon spawn begins shifting and looking about, low growling and hissing, an intricate conversation of some sort for sure and shortly after a smaller group distances itself from a larger group. Tor fades, his spirit form no longer before us. This a signal of sorts as the larger group of Lizard Kin sprint from our presence. Ames, the God of War waves down my troops allowing free passage. I open my mouth to protest and then quickly realise a battle on the Spirit Plane is in essence a nothing. I remain silent.
(Divine Dominate: Worshippers > 80 +3%. Total > 22% = Minor God of Justice Nasim.)
Nasim raises his arms above the remaining Lizard Kin. “I am honoured you believe in Justice and as your God I will hold to those ideals, your Kin or otherwise is of little import as I value what is in your heart.”
Although Lizard Kin are tall, Nasim is taller as his Spirit Lizard Kin flock to him and raise him upon their shoulders, cheering.
A hissing cough interrupts my observations and I acknowledge Bellas with a smile.
“Tor won’t simply disappear, so you need to send Ames to destroy any Sites or Shrines which still venerate the former God of Justice as the drop in worshiper numbers to the new God of Justice seems to suggest.”
“I am certain you are correct. Unfortunately, we don’t know the locations on the Spirit Plane and how could we know the real locations?”
Bellas slithers from beside me to in front, hissing. “Former worshippers of Tor, now sworn to Nasim would know …”
I hold out my hands taking both of Bellas’. “The drop in worshippers wouldn’t only be those who choose to stay or go with Tor, they would also be those who were slain when they found themselves outnumbered, on both sides. The best we known is Nasim, God of Justice, holds at least one Shrine, one Site and one Temple. If he holds more, only he knows. How Tor will use the consecrated sites he holds is anyone’s guess, but he must hold at least one as his form on the Spirit Plane vanished and his remaining followers fled to join him. They didn’t wander around lost for example.”
Her grip tightens, this isn’t a physical response through her hands I realise, but an emotional response. “Send Tor to follow them …”
I shake my head. “If I commanded you to find all the traders who weren’t your worshippers and slay them would you?”
Her hands drop away as her body recoils. “They could potentially be my future worshippers once they …”
I smile and open my arms. “Yes, and also who I am to order you to do anything? I have not yet completed my Quest and even once I have, I don’t envision myself a Ruler God who orders about her Pantheon of Gods. How long would I last before there is resistance and possibly revolt? My Truth Realm would especially curtail Greek Mythology like deceit, and I don’t want to descend into one who holds all the wisdom, false or otherwise and be blind to alternative ideas or possibilities.”
Bellas’ long forked tongue slowly flicks around tasting the air about us, purely from habit of course and yet a sign she weighs up my words. Her tongue withdraws and a curt smile showing fangs follows as she turns away to greet several of her worshippers crowding the bottom step of my Cathedral.
[Eight Sparks of Divinity assimilate to your being; Fifteen of Sixteen in total.]
The notification appears as I appraise the various Godlings and their followers. Ames amongst my troops bellowing in celebration. Nasim in quiet reflection with his few worshippers, while Bellas organises her multitudes into a hierarchy maintaining the integrity of the various Houses I surmise, given their willingness to obey. I spy a solitary Swift Spear upon a nearby roof keeping watch until he releases a roar. None react and I swallow down my concern, while debating if I should sprint to the Cathedral roof or not. Sprint? I am there in an instant studying the only reality on this Spirit Plane I am familiar with, the path I travelled, spotting ones and twos treading upon the paved road, towards Snake Kin City. Even at distance their Lion Kin forms are discernible, and I imagine the same response to Swift Spear’s summons happens in every direction.
The Spirit Plane though is not my final place of existence and the Godlings efforts are perhaps blinded by their time already spent here, waiting, and making the best. While acknowledging the spirits they interact with are significant, they aren’t alive and at best would be practice, at worst delusion. Therefore, I need to complete my Quest and reveal to them the true meaning of their existence; serving the living and answering the question, what becomes of them once they die.
In an instant I am beside the Quest Plinth.
A troop of Orcs are assembling and apart from nodding pay me no more attention before moving off. I should probably inform the Dungeons I no longer need reinforcements; the main battle has been fought and won.
[Vision of Spirit Plane extended; you lose 1% existence. Current Total 9%]
The path to my first Temple and beyond solidifies before me. I know this ground well, forest, village, temple, and river. Instead of appearing I dash and dart, arms flung wide and then by my sides as I skip towards my Temple. I know where the last Spark of Divinity lays, I knew without thinking, how could this truth be otherwise?
There are multitudes of spirits going about their business, several greet me, many don’t. I see the attraction of pretence. I could remain here on the Spirit Plane in this false reality, like the Godlings and exist without fear, at peace.
“You can’t Goddess, you are denied such tranquillity as the future of the Kin depend upon you.”
Alasse, Arch Priest of Aphrodite speaks and I … must listen.
[A Spark of Divinity assimilates to your being; Sixteen of Sixteen in total. Quest completed.]
[Offering Ruler God Role to Ruler God Elect Aphrodite …]
There is joy and dread in my heart. I have completed the quest, success and now at my destination the next step is obvious. To meet the expectations of all who know you, all who love you, a heavy weight upon your shoulders. There is no option to decline, to do so would crush them, hopes dreams and desires extinguished in a moment … everyone expects me to accept and once I accept my future belongs to others and I will never be able to escape.
While I hold no sympathy for Zeus, he defeated his father to rise and I am sure he thought the world would be a better place with him as Ruler God to justify his usurping. But over time, how does he hold to that original ideal … it is easy to see he fails daily, so is his taking an interest in me and this new world just a game or given his persistence, seducing Allene with promises for example make this more than a game to him for a reason I am yet to comprehend.
The System offers me a choice and yet in reality I have none …
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8 95A Long Refrain
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8 189Stay With Me
"Unexpressed emotions will never die. They are buried alive and will come forth later in uglier ways." - Sigmund FreudWe're good in the day. The slogan "Fake it til you make" can never go out of style. That's til we're alone by ourselves.The mask begins to crack, there's no fixing it.The bottle of emotions begins to burst , you can tell all over your face , you're in agony. You're not alone.I'm here with you through every page. Stay with me, we'll push through together. Stay with me til the end, I promise we'll all here together."Stay with me" contains substances, raw emotions, and trauma. If sensitive to any of these topics, you have been advised.
8 65the legend (Completed)
در عجبم بعضی انسان ها تا چه حد میتوانند به خدا نزدیک باشند و در طرفی دیگر انسان های درنده خویی در حال نابودی زندگی یک بنده ی دیگر باشند..(این داستان حمایتتون رو نیاز داره بهش یه شانس بدین از خودش دفاع کنه:))
8 55