#metrakan

[prjctc]

Let Down

Joshua gasped, pleading with his body to remain as the storm tore through the empty city streets around him. The battle with Oblivion waged on in the distance, the Heilifolge holding out for time until Marco would arrive. The boy's allies were specks in the distance, though his eyes still followed their every move.

"This is it then, eh?" His head turned at the unfamiliar voice. A man with hair tinged green squatted next to him, his coat collar obscuring his lower face to the dying youth, "You struck a chord in that one." He pointed to the gargantuan black beast in the distance, blasts of light illuminating its tarry skin. Marco must have arrived.

"Leave me," a cough, blood splattered atop Joshua's pale chest, "I've," a gloved hand pressed itself upon the boy's forehead, cutting him off in surprise.

"You will meet with my brother soon. Your purpose is not yet fulfilled."

"But" he struggled to feel them but couldn't, he knew it was useless. He had watched his wings fall to the ground along with him after Oblivion's killing blow, "what use am I now?"

"This body is only temporary. Another awaits you." As the stranger spoke, a blackness seemed to envelop the world around them. Dark tendrils erupted from nothing, smacking at the world around them in defiance to some unseen force. Joshua could feel them grasping at him as he grew weaker, eyes closing. Even then, he could still see what all was transpiring with the Heilifolge, the green-haired man's voice becoming like a narration, "You are so much more than the son of a catalyst. Duty drives you forward when most would give up the ghost. You speak through action, and through action find solution. That is the making of a Heiromancer. A sign of justice."

The teen fell into the darkness, chaotic energies swirling about him and slowly rebuilding his tattered remains. A new body, much the same as the old one, just as the stranger foretold. When his eyes opened once more, though his vision was blurred momentarily, he found himself capable of rising to his feet easily enough.

The world around him now was a bleak reminder of Oblivion's aimless fury. A place he had only heard Marco mention once before, the details of which were left to nothing. Seeing it for himself, however, the boy understood why the Heilifolge's commander had not told them the full tale.

Red skies. Mountainous deserts to the horizon. A world no more.

"It is time then, I see," an elderly man approached from the distance, waving his walking stick as to get Joshua's attention.

"You knew I was coming?"

"Of course, of course. The totemic can feel these things after an age." The old man chuckled, "Stelzkan will be your guide from here."

JOSHUA: Begin your training.

[prjctc]

Seeing Things Through

All men reach a turning point in their lives where their priorities align with idealist dreams; they go about the impossible task of discovering a way to immortalize themselves to their world. Though, that impossibility had been realized upon the throat of New Gaia on this day. Everett Hart was reborn unto himself, though it could be argued that he was possessing someone else entirely. Still, it was his body.

A younger body than he had grown used to after some time. The white-haired man flexed as he removed his torn vestments, eyes turning skyward as his bare chest was bathed in the desert sun. His thoughts turned to Neil, his most trusted vassal. It must have been his doing that the Dark Lord was back in this little game of fate.

Instead, he was greeted by a stranger descending upon him from the air, dressed in a roguish garb. Slowly, the green haired man levitated himself to the ground to meet Everett’s golden gaze.

“You would break the Oath of Prometheus then?” The stranger spat at his feet before pointing a gloved finger at Everett’s throat, “Do you realize what it is that will become of the-”

“Indeed,” the halo of the Oblivion Seed flickered to life before the former despot’s face as he interrupted; a glowing, violet, shape reminisce of an eye, “And I’m tired of you and your kin receiving the exclusive privilege of traversing these planes.”

“You know not what you speak!” The rogue drew a dagger from one of several sheaths tied along his belt, though it was quickly swept away by a wave of solidified shadows. The weapon was quickly placed within the grasp of the one it was meant to be turned against.

“No, you are but a fool who has lived past his time, Metrakan.” Everett chuckled, tossing the weapon to the side and extending his hands upward. Every ounce of darkness from the surrounding area seemed to be being drained from the source. A great ebony tower began to construct itself from the swirling, black aether at the Dark Lord’s beck and call. It was a stark contrast to the blindingly reflective, golden sands that reached to the horizon, “You and the rest of the Totemic.”

The traverser of strings seemed taken aback by the knowledge presented more so than the action taking place before him, “So this version of you...” He swallowed dryly, “You know the truth of things then?”

“And neither it nor the memory of your mother’s face as I stole it from her will ever leave my mind.” Everett growled, the spire spanning further and further upward until its top could no longer be seen from ground level, “I refuse to be just another plaything of ‘fate’ like the rest. Not to her, and definitely not to you. Should my actions turn me to a raving beast like Oblivion? So be it.”

The newly ascended mortal would begin walking up the spiraling staircase along the tower’s outer walls, intending to leave Metrakan behind. This would not dissuade the demigod from following, but to Everett it mattered little. If he interfered, the rogue would be slain just the same as anyone else who stood in his way.

Everett Hart was too determined not to fail a second time.

[prjctc]

Haunting

“You? Envious?” Stelzkan turned at the familiar voice, nearly tripping over himself and into Coyote’s grave despite his prideful display prior, “Never imagined I’d hear that.” Hair tinged green from years spent within the dataspace that only they and their kind were privileged to knowing of fell wistfully over his brother’s headband and over his right eye. His attire was constantly changing, last the thief had seen him Metrakan sported a stunning set of armor, but now he appeared draped in a simple, split cloak. Black, skintight attire wrapped his torso, the bare musculature of his arms faintly peeking out from within before he placed his hands within his pants pockets.

“Brother,” Stelzkan chuckled, “must be something spectacular occurring here for you to have returned.”

“You could say that,” the phantom of his past, seemed to glide as he approached, running a curious finger across the fabric still clinched in the graverobber’s fist, “though we both know there is no telling whether I am the same me that you remember.”

Stelzkan pulled the scarf away from him greedily, “Yes, yes, infinite numbers of us across infinite strings, I know.” He clicked his tongue after eyeballing Metrakan with a stern up-and-down, “You still haven’t explained why you’re here.”

The Totemic pair locked eyes, the wind whipping up as they stared one another down. Their past was complicated, no matter how things played out across the timeline. One blessed with unlimited freedom, the other bound to boons of the past and present. Their father mistook them for rivals, when they both knew the two of them lived in far different worlds from one another.

After a moment locked in anxious silence, Metrakan finally closed his eyes and smirked. With a shrug he turned from his brother and began to walk away, “Who wouldn’t want to at least witness the nail in the coffin for where they were raised? It may be different, but,” he turned his gaze to the sky, a wistful expression enveloping his face, “I would like to see it for myself.”

“So, it’s true then.” Stelzkan shuddered, turning from him in turn and looking off toward the mountain range in the distance.

“Oblivion has been freed.”