Apprentice level Inspection results

Name: Shesepankh Ilderflame

Minor titles: [Agent of Cerridwen] [Child of the Inheritors]

Stage of Being: [Second order Angel]-[Lesser Demi-god]

Energies: [Mana] [Aether] [Psionic]

Physique: 53

Agility: 42

Wisdom: 55

Toughness: 49

Reflexes: 37

Willpower: 63

Resilience: 43

Perception: 44

Presence: 27

Race

[Primary race: Celestial Paragon lvl. 17 / 50] [Evolution stage: 3]

[Sub race: Angelic Emissary lvl. 18 / 20] [Evolution stage: 1]

[Total Evolution stage: 4]

Classes (½)

[Arcane Agent: lvl. 35]-[a]

Professions (1/2)

[Justiciar (a) lvl. 12] [Manipulator (b) lvl. 6]

Shesepankh smiled as she stood in the ancient chamber of gates. She marvelled at the work of the Originals, the creators of the world that was their Pantheon’s inheritance. She still remembered the first century of her birth, those first terrible years of almost two centuries of catastrophe and war.

The Darker children of the Originals seizing the chance to claim power for themselves not meant for them. Many had been driven into the wilds or the most undesirable of lands. Some had been made slaves to atone for the sinful acts they performed during those times.

The tapping of padded feet accompanied by the clicking of taloned feet announced the other two who were to accompany her on her divine mission and dragged her thoughts back. If only the gate would function properly so they could begin the mission.

The two Psychopomps entered the woman with her arms crossed while the male of the pair held his hands behind his back. Their look of indifferent disgust as they saw her made her cringe a bit on the inside. She didn’t know when it had happened but every child of the Originals a bare handful had turned cold and visibly disgusted by all the children of the inheritors and the inheritors themselves. They rarely even spoke to anyone outside their own kind any more despite the deep friendships that had formerly been between them and some of the children of the inheritors.

It unnerved the angel mostly because her justiciar skills allowed her to see that their disgust was justified yet she couldn’t figure out why. What had the children of the originals learned about them that had caused such a dramatic shift in attitude.

Then again she still remembered the actions of the pantheon when one of them had told them to go fuck themselves when commanded to appear before the mortals with a message. It had been… sudden, violent and final. Ever since then they’d seen the disgust and open hatred for them on open display from every single one of the children of the originals and while they obeyed the pantheon it was clearly the unwillingness of someone with a sword to their throat.

Yet they never revealed the reason to any of the Inheritors children for their sudden shift in attitude. She couldn’t blame them either, while the Pantheon treated their children with the care a parent showed they didn’t extend the same to the children of the originals.

Something she couldn’t for the life of her understand. Shouldn’t the children of the originals be honoured and treated well? Wasn’t it their parents, in a way, that made the world? So why weren’t they honoured and instead….

Her thoughts turned to what she’d seen of how the most cordial of slaves were treated and to her mounting horror was seeing some rather stark similarities in treatment. “What do you want.” The woman of the pair stated, her voice a barely held back growl of hostility.

The woman was Sariel, a Sphinx that had gained humanoid form from rising to become a Deva, a celestial or heavenly being. The Leonine woman had thick copper hair that fell down to her waist with feathered wings of the same colour sprouting from her back. The only thing that didn’t really belong on her body according to Shesepankh’s sensibilities was the snake acting as her tail.

“Is there really a need for such hostility when we are to do the work of our gods?” Shesepankh asked gently but felt a bit of ire rise at the clear dropping of any civil considerations for her.

“Perhaps but there is certainly cause for it. What is it your gods want to command of us. Agent of Cerridwen.” The male reached out with his taloned hand and placed it on Sariel’s shoulder to calm her down his voice though barely contained the visceral disgust he had for Shesepankh which threw her on the back foot.

She’d always felt unnerved by Remiel’s appearance. He was a sphinx as well but a Koráki sphinx before he’d grown to become a Deva like Sariel. His head was a large raven skull with black feathers covering most of his body while his forelimbs clearly had the form of a raven’s talons blended into their forms. His form was even more offensive to her sensibilities simply because to her he was like some spectre of death. She also hadn’t missed the emphasis on the Pantheon being her gods and not theirs. A sentiment she could sort of understand but theirs were dead. Realizing she’d been peering silently at the two modestly robed librarians for a bit longer than socially acceptable she cleared her throat and spoke.

“We have been handed a mission to enter one of the gates when they open next.” She paused at the seething look of utter hatred and desire to rip her throat out that rose on Sariel’s face that took her aback at the sheer visceral feeling it evoked. She only continued when Remiel calmed his companion down with a taloned hand on her shoulder. “Our mission is to see what the mortals there contend with and to make contact with their divines to see if there is a chance of bridging our worlds together.”

“And if they don’t have their own divines?” Remiel’s dry response had the angel swallow a little at how uncomfortable it somehow made her.

“Then we are to teach them of the virtues of our pantheon to bring light to the mortals.” Shesepankh answered but flinched at the hateful growl that rumpled through Sariels throat. The look in her eyes also told her that the sphinx wanted nothing more than to rip her throat out.

“Then you will let us know when the time to depart approaches and we shall prepare. However know this agent.” The word agent was laced with derision as Remiel spoke up again. “If you put us in chains, our aid will be less than minimal. It’ll be non-existent.” He said it in such a hard tone that Shesepankh felt hurt, they had been friendly acquaintances only two centuries ago after all.

The two didn’t bid her farewell and simply turned and left the chamber of gates. Not bothering to be in her presence more than they had to. Their actions and treatment of her making her realize that perhaps things weren’t all right in the divine realm. Her paranoia making her send a quick inspection of the two right as they disappeared around a corner.

The locked status and requirements to advance worried her. Something was up with those two and it had been causing her curiosity since before the sudden change in attitude. Now it had turned to suspicion.

Basic level Inspection results

Name: Remiel

Minor titles: [Child of the progenitors]

Stage of Being: [Lesser Demi-god]

Energies: [Mana] [Chi]

Race

[Primary race: Koráki-Sphinx lvl. 35 / 50] [Evolution stage: 2]

[Sub race: Deva lvl. 19 / 20] [Evolution stage: 2]

[Total Evolution stage: 4]

Classes (2/2)

[Soulseeker: lvl. 28]-[a]

[Lesser Psychopomp: lvl. 20 /20]-[b] [Advancement unavailable, Requirements not met]

Professions (3/3)

[Mántis Zoí (b) lvl 0]-[Locked] [Necromancer (a) lvl. 19] [Arcane Librarian (b) lvl. 8]

Basic level Inspection results

Name: Sariel

Minor titles: [Child of the progenitors] []

Stage of Being: [Lesser Demi-god]

Energies: [Mana] [Chi]

Race

[Primary race: Gino-Serpent-tail-Sphinx lvl. 14 / 50] [Evolution stage: 2]

[Sub race: Deva lvl. 21 / 20] [Evolution stage: 2]

[Total Evolution stage: 4]

Classes (2/2)

[SpiritWalker: lvl. 38]-[a]

[Lesser Psychopomp: lvl. 20 / 20]-[b] [Advancement unavailable, Requirements not met]

Professions (2/3)

[Mántis Nekrós (b) lvl. 0]-[Locked] [Enochian Senior-Occultist (a) lvl. 12] [Arcane Librarian (b) lvl. 9]

In the end all she could really do was sigh and look at the gate they were to go through. It’s inert ring of marble inlaid with silver and golden runes was her only comfort. She would wait here until she felt it stir and then she’d retrieve Sariel and Remiel and go through it.

Every century or so a gate would open and Cerridwen had found through the weave of fate that the next two times a gate would open it would be this one.

Going down on her knees she spent the time in silent prayer.

What was happening to the heavens?

-

“Arnei who’s that?” One of the elites in training asked casually as she looked through the glass wall that showed the large training area beyond.

Areni looked over and noted the trainee was pointing at Mors as he went through strange movements with his body with a frown on his lips. He’d asked for a place to go through training himself to adapt to a mortal body, his words.

At first she’d thought he was joking but the giant winged serpent he’d turned into to prove his point had her agree readily.

“I’d also like to know.” Both woman heard coming from a little further ahead as the commander of the elites and the man in charge of their training said with a very foul frown on his lips.

“Oh? You don’t know commander?” The trainee said after saluting the man properly. Arnei doing the same as her status as royalty was nearly null and void on the academic grounds. The training facilities having been added on when the highest ranked academy was chosen to also house the preliminary training of their elites. It would give the people the sight of how proficient the novice elites were as well as allowing them to further their own education in the process before they were shipped to the off-world facility that further refined them and trained them to the standard required.

“I don’t.” The commander said in gruff grunt. “I saw some of the more aggressive of the novices challenge him to a spar after he’d gone through a few of those strange formations of his.” The commander looked at Mors with a deep frown. Clearly he didn’t like the man.

“How did it go?” The trainee asked while Arnei was rather certain she knew of the results.

“That man puts our elites to shame.” The Commander growled. “It was surgical, he tore them down piece by piece and looked bored doing it.”

“I know the elites don’t begin the full course of combat training before we are shipped off-world but they should still be properly trained right?” The trainee asked a little bewildered.

“It wouldn’t matter anyway.” Areni sighed and clearly got both of their attention from that. With a finger pointed at Mors she spoke up. “That is Mors-”

“The god of death and creation.” Mors’s deep otherworldly tenor interrupted her as he walked out of the shadow behind the commander with a mischievous smirk on his lips.

Both the commander and trainee flinched, while the trainee whipped her head around to Mors with a slackened jaw, the commander almost drew his service weapon. Only stopped by the low growl that Mors let out as he stared challengingly into the slightly shorter mans eyes.

“Wh-wha?” The trainee let out as she whipped her head to look from the place she’d last seen Mors on the training mat he’d been on to him once again.

“Hello Princess, have you been well?” Mors said, the picture of a gentleman as he gave her a soft bow of the head. “Zak’thul reported to me this morning that the men who had the contract out on your head have been dealt with so you have nothing to worry about.” He then continued smoothly with a smile.

She’d been unnerved by Mors ever since she’d seen him literally raise the dead as some horrific monster of myth before her very eyes. She also knew Mors had picked up on her unease and had given her all the space that she required until now.

She supposed it wasn’t that hard to figure out, given she’d visited the island manor he stayed at only twice now over the span of a month. Then her father had allowed him to visit the Academy to peruse it's libraries and make use of its training facilities to kill time.

“Zak’thul?” Arnei asked a bit confused before the widening eyes and slight squeak of terror that the trainee let out clued her in.

She turned and took a step back as her shadow pooled and grew. Taking on the appearance of ferro liquid as it bubbled and slowly rose up from the floor. Parting slightly as the antlers pierced through the liquid and the creature rose fully from the floor to tower over them all.

“My lord.” The ancient whisper of a voice echoed from its canine jaws as it bowed down before Mors who’d moved in front of them.

“Zak’thul.” Mors said simply as he reached out his hand towards the creature that handed over the same sack it had been handed in its creation along side a much darker yet familiar obsidian dagger. Small lights within the black crystal of the blade giving it almost a cosmic look.

Mors smiled and as he looked the dagger over he started to snicker like whatever he was sensing from the dagger was the funniest thing he’d heard in a while.

Areni was about to speak up but then a sudden change came over Mors, his face hardened and his eyes grew alert as he looked over her shoulder. She was about to turn around to see what he was looking at when a small burst of warm air flew down the hallway. It wasn’t just her but the other two who turned around but before she’d turned she’d noticed how Zak’thul had cowered behind his master.

Seeing the cause she could understand it perfectly.

There floating in the middle of the hallway was a being with four white pristine feathered wings with the same strange pointed ears as Mors had with golden antlers that made a crown upon her brow. The pointed tips seeming to hold aloft the golden ring of energy that haloed the being.

“What is one of your vile ilk doing in this world?” The woman said with imperious disgust as she produced a flaming spear and pointed it at Mors who didn’t seem all that impressed. With a snap of his fingers Zak’thul disappeared into shadows once more but clearly was pulled into the strange black ring on Mors’s finger.

“And what… pray tell do you mean by that?” Mors asked courteously as he calmly moved to stand in front of the three mortals in the hallway.

“Your here to corrupt and defile my goddesses great work as all your eldritch ilk do when they enter this world. I will slay you before you get the chance-” The Angelic being said as she brandished her spear and landed, clearly taking a ready stance to attack. Though her voice petered out when Mors not only didn’t seem worried but also snickered. This snicker wasn’t one of joy though it was dark and more malicious than Arnei thought a snicker could ever be.

“The only world were humanity is worth anything other than shit beneath my boot? I’d hardly ruin that given that you managed to achieve the exception that so far has proven the rule.” Mors spoke with the voice of death, not the voice that she knew would harm morals at the mere sound of it but it was close. It sent a cold shiver down her spine and she was starting to realize that despite the gentlemanly and approachable manner he’d carried himself he was a being of death. And death rarely was kind.

“What do you mean creature?” The Angel snarled with furrowed brows.

Mors smiled maliciously and raised his hand up to count on his fingers, raising each up when he spoke. “One, humans rarely if ever show the nobility of the humans that I’ve been reading about in this worlds galactic history. It would be a shame to corrupt the only noble example of humanity I’ve ever come across.

Two, do not lump me in with the usual eldritch horrors that invade this world through the rituals of madmen and idiots. Those were mere children or too starved to be anything I’d consider a threat.”

He paused here as he raised the third digit and sent the angel a hard eyed look. “And third, I’m an elder god not some piddling horror. I slay those that intend me clear harm. Malice for malice and benevolence for benevolence. A rather simple philosophy to live by correct?” He sent the Angel a small smile, not malicious this time as he finished.

“Y-you-’re an elder god?” The angel was shivering, the spear shaking in her hand as she stared at Mors.

“An infant one. yes.” A calm yet infinitely warm voice seemed to whisper into the hallway as another woman appeared. To Arnei’s stunned amazement Mors actually bowed before the woman as she entered into existence next to the Angel.

The woman was robed in a tasteful toga like garment with hair of purest gold and the same could be said for her eyes. Eyes that seemed to be abysmally deep pools of the warmest golden light imaginable, filled with love and comfort for all that she’d created. Arnei somehow knew in her bones that before her was the goddess that created the galaxy itself.

“Infant is relative, my lady.” Mors replied smoothly, the picture of the noble gentleman before a queen.

“Yes…” The woman said charmingly. “You’ve existed long before you were born and will do so even after your supposed death. Though… your energies are strange. What is your title godling?”

“I am [The Autarch of the Twin Cycles], the cycles are death and life, creation and oblivion.” Mors promptly replied, still bowing to the woman.

“And your parentage?” The Lady asked softly though Arnei had seen the Angel flinch at the title Mors had supplied.

Mors was silent for a long time before he finally stood tall once more and looked at the Lady with a… sad smile? “I am the child of five in a sense, The primordial craftsman, The druid of the deep woods, The formation witch and the void dragon make up some of me. My surrogate mother and murderer is Sas’seshkaneth [The fate weaver] and [Mistress of the great web].”

The Lady seemed to pick up on his sadness and asked almost tentatively. “Who of the first four was a parent?”

The sad smile made itself rather evident as Mors’s usually mischievously glinting eyes dulled to look void of any warmth as he spoke sadly. “The Craftsman viewed his apprentices as his children. He watched them burn in humanity’s fire of greed. The formation witch had two disciples she considered her children. Like all humans they decided personal power was worth killing their mother and master over.”

Mors almost appeared chocked up when he was about to continue while Arnei had heard the absolute and utter loathing Mors had for humans and if he’d had to watch them do that to him over and over again she understood the hatred he held for the species. However when he spoke once more it was in the same hollow voice her father had spoken in for over a decade after her mother died in childbirth alongside what was to be her youngest sibling.

“The void dragon adopted two and took a third as his ward. Now that I have hindsight of the events.” Mors’s voice trailed off as he looked away from the Lady.

“What happened to them.” The Lady asked as she took a few small yet impossible steps to reach him in a moment and placing a hand on the side of Mors’s cheeks. It allowed Arnei to see something she’d been rather adamant that Mors would be incapable of doing.

He was holding back tears.

“We lived in a lesser world.” He said bitterly and the sharp inhale from the Lady made Arnei confused. “Sas’seshkaneth pulled the Void dragon from it and placed me with my other half's in my egg.” Mors continued and lowered his head. The Lady that until now Arnei hadn’t noticed was even slightly taller than Mors himself lowered her head down and pressed her forehead to Mors’s own before tears rolled down her cheeks as if seeing all the events Mors had spoken of first hand.

“Sas’seshkaneth is devoid of tact as always.” The Lady said in a bitter chuckle before she waved to the Angel and all three were swallowed up in holy golden light before the hallway appeared as if they’d never been there in the first place.

The hallway was silent for a very long time after the otherworldly entities had left. The silence suffocating even.

None of the mortals knowing how they were supposed to react to anything they’d seen. Least of all seeing the very being responsible for their existence as a whole.

-

It was the strangest thing the Seraphim had ever seen. An eldritch being that she could describe as beautiful simply from the fact that she spent her time staring down at the galaxy her lady had created and loved the beauty of the cosmos. There laying down curled up with its head on her Lady’s lap was a being that looked made of a vibrant cosmic view of nebulous stars. Slowly turning from a vibrant bloom of life to a near empty blackness of encroaching oblivion before it returned back to its vibrancy.

The being now slept after her lady’s powers not only calmed it but coaxed its story from its own lips. She couldn’t understand how, at least to her knowledge, four different beings one might consider Mundane had somehow combined into this Eldritch being before her.

The infection point was certainly from what it considered the life of its aspect of death but it still troubled her.

“Do not worry. Sas’seshkaneth is an old friend.” Her lady quietly said as she looked down at the creature with a strange look to her eyes. Similar to the look she directed towards her creation but not the same either.

“Perhaps… Yes those two might do this one some good.” Her Lady said with a soft indulgent smile on her lips.

“You mean the spider and moth? Those anomalies?” She asked a bit dumbfounded.

Her Lady smiled and giggled a little as she stroked the creatures bald head. Then both gasped a bit as the creature’s skin appeared to boil and the snapping of bone rumbled beneath its skin as scales pushed themselves out and the form completely changed.

The both stared at the huge four-winged snake now curled around her Lady, It’s head on her lap while its size on the other hand was easily enough to swallow four men whole in a single bite. “Oh you are full of surprises aren’t you little one?~” Her Lady cooed.