#mianite fic

[syndianites]

jk decided to go ahead and introduce Martha and pre-traumatize her for the story

[ianite-simp]

karl lore i suppose?

wanted to write some lore about karl, kind of ties into the ending of my previous dark!karl fic. sort of happy i suppose? 

The islands came into existence the first morning the sun rose. As the warm rays spread over the calm waves, the islands burst into life with an energy that swirled and ebbed with the energy of the world around them. The rustling leaves, the crash of waves, the low rumble of thunder - these sounds held the essence of the world. The islands joined this essence, became familiar and safe in the world. As the tides rose and fell with the strength of the moon, the islands existed in a harmony with all that was natural.

And then a disturbance rippled across the world. A new energy, a throb of an unfamiliar essence swept through the breezes. Every grain of sand, every speck of life shivered in this new energy. The islands were aware of a new being, a new thing. A person, the winds whispered. A human.

This first man, this being of chaos and energy, its essence touched by those unfamiliar to the islands was welcomed eagerly. After all, the islands were of a trusting, welcoming temperament. They had no reason not to be. This zombie, though not a proper human, was embraced fully. With delight and fascination the islands observed him, studied him, and allowed him to form them to his will. He fit into the essence of the land, adding his own without destroying the old.

Another came, shortly after this. A man not unlike the other, with the same traces of other worlds mingled in his own essence. He had an energy that was unique from the zombie’s; where the zombie was brash and chaotic, he was level and calm.

With growing interest the islands welcomed these newcomers, amused and intrigued by the dynamics of the humans. Something about the small, mortal lives made the islands wish to make themselves known to them. They wanted to communicate with the men, but they could not speak the way they did. The islands sang through what was natural, chattered through dolphins, hummed through the crackle of a rising storm. But the humans, they spoke in a language unfamiliar to the islands.

So the islands decided to create something they could speak from, a human of their own. A human that would contain the essence of the islands themselves. Where the others bore the spirits of gods strange to the world, this one would be of the islands. Born of the earth, it would be the islands’ way of communicating with mortals.

The work of creating a new life from pure essence was slow, yet rewarding. With each passing day, from deep in the earth, the islands sculpted their own man. After the work was finished, the islands hummed with satisfaction. Their human wasn’t quite as dainty as the others, not as refined perhaps (more of a caveman than anything), but it was theirs.

Energy hung with a static strength in the air the day the islands’ man was presented to the others. The islands saw with joy and relief as their simple offering was welcomed eagerly by the others, as it gave itself a name. Karl.

Though it seemed he wasn’t aware of his own origin, the islands watched over their child with an eager fondness, finding a simple happiness in the way he rapidly learned and grew with the help of the others. It was enough to see their own spirit growing in connection to his friends, his brothers. In all his happiness, sorrow, and anger they were present, feeling these new sensations as well.

Others came to the land, of course. It was almost inevitable, given the way the essences’ of the various beings filled the world. Like a magnet, people and gods were drawn to the young islands, attracted by the power inhabiting them. Alongside the good came evil, in the form of a Darkness.

The islands were unable to act against this Darkness, unable to combat its attacks on its inhabitants. The danger, previously unfamiliar to them, could not be fought by any natural force. The void that was this being simply swallowed the storms, the tidal waves, the winds that the islands threw at it. There was nothing the islands could do, a new feeling for them. Helplessness. They could only wait and observe, observe with mounting horror as their own child was taken by this powerful force, changed beyond their recognition.

So they did what they could to help their child, to help Karl. If they couldn’t protect his mortal form, then at the very least they could protect his spirit. Protect the memories, the connections he had, the emotions he felt. Protect what truly made up their child.

With every breeze, every wind that gently caressed him, they peeled away shreds of his person. Though the islands couldn’t help the pain it gave him, it was the only way to protect him from the Darkness. The only way to help. It hurt them, knowing they couldn’t explain what was happening to him. It hurt them, knowing that their child thought he was going to die.

And so they watched, as their child slowly became aware of his fate, as he pleaded for help, for the pain to end. They watched, as helpless as if they were watching a leaf be swept away by a torrent of rain. They watched, as his friends surrounded him, trying to help him. They watched, as he grew resigned to his fate.

They watched, as he lost his hope.

They watched, as his mortal form crumbled into nothing.

They watched, as his essence formed from his memories and dreams, rose to join them.

They welcomed him, coddled him in the embrace of gentle sunlight and soft clouds. They welcomed him home, to a place free of the pain he had felt, free of danger. 

Though he could not return to his friends, not in that world, his spirit stayed with them. In the warmth of the sun on their shoulders, the scent of salt from a cool ocean breeze, and the glow of a vibrant sunset, he was with them.

He would always be with them.

[kheprrison-arts]

War Soldier Chapter One

Fandom: Mianite Ship: Diacate Chapters: 1/? Summary: Tom receives a vision of what happened before he wound up on the island. Extra notes: Of course since this will end up longer than I’d like it’ll be cut up into chapters, though I don’t know how many.

“M’lord!” The fire beast shouted, running down the dark corridor that leads to the throne room of the palace. When he found himself near the throne his kneeled down, panting, out of breath. “M… m’lord.”

“What is it, Furia?” The man in the throne asked, his voice booming through the room. He moved in his throne, resting his chin on the back of his hand while he waited for his guardian to catch his breath.

“The training this morning started,” Furia said, “and there’s new trainee you might want to see.” Furia stood and stepped back a few feet, waiting for the red-skinned being to make his decision. The man stood from his seat, motioning with his hand for Furia to lead him. “Oddly enough,” Furia started while he sorted through some papers he had been holding, “this trainee-guy wasn’t actually in any of the papers. He never signed up or anything. I didn’t even know he follows you.” Furia looked over his shoulder and at his lord for any changes in attitude, the man showed nothing.

They neared the training arena and stood on the highest platform so they could look down on the trainees. The lord hummed as he watched his newest soldiers playing “follow the leader” with long sticks. The movements made by the leader were stiff and rugged, nothing the lord would’ve aloud. A deep rumbling rose from his throat while he watched. The rumbling startled Furia just beside him causing the flame beast to stutter, “U-uh so I’ve been meaning to find a new leader b… uh… ‘cause I knew you wouldn’t like how this one was going. Th-that’s on my list, m’lord, so… uh, so don’t worry.”

“Calm down, Furia,” the lord said as he gazed at the trainees. He chuckled when he saw one of them fumble their staff, it dropped to the floor and rolled off yet the group continued their stiff and jagged movements; thrusting the stick in the air, swinging it side to side and whatnot. His uncharacteristically pink eyes caught one being, a trainee at the end. His bright blue hair stood out from the whole group, let alone the whole property seeing as blue isn’t a color you’d expect from someone following a man characterized by reds and golds. The blue-haired trainee had the most fluid movements of anyone in the courtyard. It was almost like watching an angel.

“Sir?” Furia asked, throwing the lord back into reality.

“What?” He asked, standing upright and towering over his sorry excuse for a guardian.

“I’ll pull the trainee out of the yard and have a talk with him,” Furia said, “you can wait in your throne room or office or wherever you feel like going nowadays. I’ll bring him to you when I get the information for him filled out.”

“Don’t do anything stupid,” the lord said and walked off, his slender tail flicking in what Furia assumed to be some sort of irritation.

Furia huffed, blowing out embers, and stormed off towards one of the staircases that led down to the courtyard where the new soldiers are being trained. He walked up to the leader, but not before eyeing the blue-haired mystery in the back. He wondered what about this boy that made Dianite zone out like that though he wouldn’t be surprised if it were just his fighting skills.

“Malachai,” Furia snarled, showing his sharp canines. He may be the shortest of everyone but he’s the scariest member aside from the lord they all served. “The blue-haired one—” he pointed to the trainee in the back—“what is his name and room number?”

“I don’t actually know his name but it’s 319 I think?” Malachai said, holding his staff close to him. “You know where he came from?”

“No, I thought you would.”

“Nah,” Malachai frowned and lowered his voice, “he just kinda of showed up. With the hair I sorta suspect he might be a Mianite spy but… his skill surpasses that of a regular Mianite follower.”

“Interesting,” Furia mumbled while he watched the trainee over his shoulder, “Thank you, I’ll have to talk to him personally then.”

Malachai saluted.

“Oh, by the way,” Furia dragged on his words and clicked his tongue on his teeth. “I want a word with you after the training is over. Come see me in the throne room of our lord.”

“Oh… uh, of course, Guardian Furia,” Malachai stumbled on his words and bowed quickly.

“Good day,” Furia growled and walked off. He slowly stepped up to the blue-haired trainee and cleared his throat.

The man yelped and swung his staff, nearly hitting the guardian. “S-sorry, Sir,” the man said when he noticed it was just the short guardian. “Is there something you need?”

Furia’s brows furrowed. How could he know of Furia when even Furia himself didn’t even know this boy existed? “Yes,” he sighed, “the Lord would like a word with you.”

Before the boy could muster out a word, Furia had stomped off. He didn’t understand why the guardian had to be so angry all the time. He straightened up and followed the guardian even though he probably wouldn’t be needed until after the training, but better early than late he could suppose. He wouldn’t want to keep his lord waiting.

“Syndicate,” the lord spoke darkly, Furia standing next to his throne still as a statue with his hands clasped behind his back. “And you say you don’t follow my brother?”

“No, Sir,” the blue-haired trainee, Syndicate, bowed his head while he kneeled in front of the throne the lord lounged sat in. “Although,” he muttered more to himself.

“Although?” The lord sat up, causing Syndicate to squeak.

“Oh, um, I actually have a couple friends that do serve your brother, but we don’t really let our alignments really get in the way,” Syndicate explained, sitting up straight, “but if there would be a task you require me to do in spite of your brother and his people then I will serve you every step of the way. No questions asked.”

The lord’s right ear twitched slightly and he sat back seemingly satisfied that his new recruit wouldn’t betray his word. “Where did you learn such skill, Syndicate?”he asked, resting his chin on the back of his hand while he leaned to the side.

Syndicate stood from his kneeling position, his knees having gone stiff and needing a stretch. “I’d say I got it from my father,” he responded, “he was one of your strongest warriors but retired to train me.”

The lord hummed. “I see.”

“He died a while ago, it’s really nothing I don’t think,” Syndicate shrugged.

“Why did you come here?”

Syndicate bowed his head in respect and spoke, “To become your strongest warrior and serve by your side, Lord Dianite.”

[syndianites]

tom in a (season 1 centric) timeloop

thank youuu!

When I tell you that I've had an idea similar to this floating in my head for ages, let me tell you that unironically I have a whole lore for it. (Granted, it uses some of my more out-there Mianite headcanon and background lore for characters, so it'd get revised to be less ooc for the characters if I ever DID write that plot bunny. My similar thought centers on the idea of the crew coming out of the void post-s2 and getting stuck in the entire s1 plot again, except 1) the s2 crew is there and 2) no one seems to remember doing any of this before except for some brief deja-vu moments. The main POV would follow the s2 crew and the main plot twist would be the fact that Tom DOES remember what happened and has the powers of Dianite, but is trying his best to keep the events all together and maybe, possibly, save his Dianite. The ending is a secret tho)

Onto the fic

----

Tom felt the strain burn into his upper back. He was never the best archer- that solidly went to Jordan and his goddess' personal preference for bows- but at this close of distance and how big Dianite was, he knew his aim would be true.

He was conflicted.

Yeah, Dianite disowned him. Sure, he was acting absolutely batshit insane, trying to kill his own sister and fellow goddess. And yeah, Tom had decided he'd side with his friends, but a few swings against his god were nothing in the grand scheme of things. What was significant, however, was how worn Dianite was beginning to look. For all his godly might, Dianite had been deteriorating for months. Tom couldn't figure out why and any attempt at getting answers was met with harsh rebuttal, and by the time he started to get an inkling of what might be going down Furia had decided to start shit.

Looking at Dianite now, you wouldn't think he was a god. Maybe a tough, angry red demon, but a god? No, he was far too battered and bruised to attest to such divine birthright. Even as he expertly parried a strike from Tucker and ducked an arrow sent by Jordan, Dianite just barely managed to escape Sonja's quick slash with a shallow scratch. He was slowing down. Even more so after the crystal atop the pillar at the center of their arena had been broken.

Tom tracked the fight with his eyes, barely moving a muscle beyond the subtle shake of his arms. His bow was redied, his shot clear. Just a quick release of the tension built in his fingers and his arrow would hit home. Dianite's back was turned to him.

Why was he hesitating?

The wait was maddening. How much longer could he hold this position? How much longer until someone got the upper hand- who would it be? Would he be able to stand seeing his god cutting down one of his friends, so soon after Capsize's death? Would he be able to handle seeing his friends cut down his god, the very one that had taken him in, bloodied and bleeding and freshly pulled from the grave?

The choice was taken from him.

He didn't realize until the arrow was already in the air, too focused on the sudden chill that had taken into his fingers. Tom glanced at his hand in bewilderment, seeing the ghost of a dark energy- or was it a deep purple?- before his head snapped back up to Dianite.

To the arrow lodged in his back.

Dianite stumbled, sword clattering to the ground. Tucker and Jordan had stepped back, both with their swords still raised, and Sonja had an arrow knocked in the background, all of them clearly ready for some new power to burst forth.

Instead, Dianite's head turned towards Tom, eyes eerily blank.

They stared at one another as Dianite fell down to one knee, then both. A frown marred his face- not a sneer but something more confused. His eyes fell to Tom's hand that still prickled with cold like he'd just dunked them in arctic waters.

Tom's chest twisted like it was reading its own arrow.

"No." Dianite's eyes found his again. "Not like this."

Stuck in the god's gaze, Tom watched as a shadow seemed to lift from Dianite's eyes like he was gaining clarity. He seemed to wrestle with himself, teeth grit in determination and Tom wondered if he was going to strike him down for the betrayal.

But was it betrayal when Dianite had turned his back to him first?

Instead, Dianite gave a sigh, setting a soft look upon Tom. "Not for you."

Before Tom could react, before he could draw a breath, pain erupted behind his eyes. The world was swallowed in a blinding light- white, at first, then turning a deep, blood red, before fading to black.

Oh, Tom mused, he really did strike me down.

With that thought, Tom blanked out.

---

In a shocking turn of events, Tom came to with a stuttering gasp. His eyes flew open only to burn with the sudden onset of light. He squeezed them closed, hand flying up to protect his eyes. The sound of waves beat at his pounding head.

A groan sounded from afar. It wasn't himself, for he could scarcely manage a wheeze. There was a shuffling of sand, shoes crunching shakily on the uneasy surface.

Sand?

Gods know Tom wasn't the smartest, but after getting blasted by godly power and surely being killed so thoroughly he wasn't likely to get revived a second time didn't put him anywhere near sand.

He peeked an eye open from beneath his fingers as his mind fried itself trying to connect dots.

Smited by Dianite + horrible pain = brain exploded?

Brain exploded + waking up in pain = died and sent to hell?

From what Tom knew about the Nether, sand wasn't out of the question, perse, but it was usually accompanied by the screams and moans of the dead.

Wait, did his soul get sucked up by some soul sand?

As he tried to figure out the logistics of how souls even got stuck in sand, a voice caught his attention, "You alive over there?"

When Tom didn't reply, because surely they weren't talking to him, the crunching of sand got closer and there was a nudge at his side.

Startled, Tom dropped the hand from his face, squinting through the sudden pain and onslaught of light to see a man standing above him. As his eyes focused, the face because clear.

"Tucker?" Tom's brain tried to reboot, not comprehending why his best friend was also here. "Don't tell me you died too?"

Instead of a snarky remark, Tucker gave him a suspicious frown. "How do you know my name? Who are you? No, wait, what do you mean died? Is this the afterlife?"

The questions hurt caused Tom's brain to lag, trying to process the absolutely absurd shit coming out of Tucker's mouth. This was too much for him, honestly, between his brain getting exploded and waking up to his soul getting eaten by soul sand and- wait.

Tom sat up suddenly, head pounding at the movement. He was on a beach. There was a clear blue sky around him and a lack of sweltering heat. Either he was not in the Nether, or the process of getting his soul eaten by fucking sand made him hallucinate.

Rather than answering Tucker's questions, he swivled his head from side to side. He was on a beach, a hill stretching out behind him and leading to a solitary acacia tree. The dry looking grass was familiar, like the savannah grass their homes were all built on top of. If he squinted, he could imagine that mountain off to his side being where Tucker and Sonja's castle home was, and opposite of that he could almost visualize Jerry's Tree.

Tom frowned, looking up at the bewildered and agitated Tucker.

"I'm Tom, dumbass. Don't tell me that dying made you forget me?"

Tucker huffed. "Like I'd be able to forget a talking zombie. I'm pretty sure we've never met."

Despite his confusion, Tucker offered Tom a hand like it was second nature. He took it gingerly, eying his friend warily.

"Sure," Tom muttered, the gears in his brain clicking together like an abandoned machine that needed maintenance five years ago. "Doesn't this place look familiar?"

"Not at all. Don't think I've ever been to, what, a savannah? At least, that's what it looks like. Dry grass and all." Tucker frowned at the stalks coming up to his waist, twisting the top and watching it break under his fingers.

Tom didn't respond, instead opting to climb the hill to get a better lay of the land. There was a mutter from Tucker behind him and the sound of footsteps following him. When Tom reached the top he felt his abused brain step into overdrive.

This place looked familiar for sure. Three mountains surrounded the savannah plain, with a river cutting through it. If he squinted at the one on his left, he could almost see was looked like an incomplete version of Dec's house. To the right, he could imagine the Dianite head statue his friends had made, leading into what would be the Forest of the Abyss.

It wasn't until a flash of red caught his eye that Tom truly felt his mind break.

There was Dec, in his usual ragged get-up, waving in that same carefree way he always did. But instead of making some comment about how Tom looks like he lost a fight with a sand castle, or how Tucker looked like a half-drowned rat, he greeted them.

"Welcome! I haven't seen you all around before. What brings you folk out here to our lovely realm of Mianite?" Dec grinned at them, offering a hand to shake.

Tucker stepped forward to introduce himself, but Tom just stared at Declan.

This was almost exactly how his first day in the realm had gone. He'd washed ashore, met Tucker, and got the run down from Dec. Hell, if things continued he could easily imagine how Tucker and he would start gathering wood and trying to set up a base at the top of that stupid mountain Tucker had tried to push him off of as a joke.

No.

No, there was no fucking way.

Dianite had killed him.

But ghosts didn't feel pain. He'd asked Capsize and she told him as much. His head throbbed with the ache of getting smitted.

They couldn't feel temperature, but the heat of the plains was already seeping into his suit jacket.

Most of all, they didn't have a heart beat, and Tom could feel his barely there, defunct heart slowly but surely beating in his chest.

Something had went royally fucking wrong.

----

Okay, I could probably continue this, in fact I have a vague idea for how Tom's character arc would go for this and I 100% know how I would end it. If you want more, I can keep going, but I'd either need to separate it into it's own post or do a little planning to get the idea more concrete. Because this is honestly a banger ass plot bunny.

Thanks for the prompt!!

[syndianites]

Send Mianite Prompts!

I'm in class rn but I have the itch to write some Mianite so send literally anything my way! <3

[syndianites]

Mianite Prompt:

Something with Martha, Sonja, and Capsize like hanging out maybe doing magic stuff (I guess either post-season 2 or just Capsize is somehow in Ruxomar because nothing bad happened to Capsize ever)

Any ships or not ships you want, just think the girls should vibe ^-^

Sneak-peek at the Sonja/Capsize/Martha fic that has gotten entirely too long

(Context: Capsize still died and turned into a zombie, but instead of killing her Redbeard asked TR to try and cure her bc Tom is literally Right There. She is tossed into the Void with the squad and gets taken in by Sonja who is trying to find a cure for her)

Before Sonja could get lost in the thought Capsize made a noise. At first, she thought it was just an unconscious grunt, but then another one followed, along with the sound of a book sliding across the table. She looked over to see Capsize pointing at what seemed to be a picture of a tree.

Leaning over, Sonja felt like she’d seen the tree before. There was no color in the book, but the shape was distinct. A dense thick of leaves on top, circular in nature, that seemed almost man-made. Below it had exposed roots that weaved in and out of the ground before taping off about three feet from the base. There was a few sparkles around the drawing of the tree that implied it was either magical or gave off light. Or both.

Capsize tapped her finger again, drawing Sonja’s focus to the word just above it. Purple. She traced the sentence back to its source.

”An interesting trait of the Silverwood tree is its ability to change the landscape around it. It will turn the area it's in into a more lush, magically dense mini-biome, even able to cleanse the lingering purple remains of previously tainted lands. This also leads to the growth of other magical plants that…”

Sonja perked up as a tingle of excitement ran up her spine. “Oh my gods!” She turned to mildly startled Capsize, “That’s it!”

At Sonja’s face-splitting grin, the zombie’s face smoothed out into an almost-smile, her shoulders relaxing from where they’d been bunched up. Then she was tackle-hugged.

“You’re the best ever!” Sonja said after she stopped the duo from toppling to the ground, “I could kiss you right now. Would that be weird? Okay, maybe that would be weird but I can think about that later.”

She pulled back, letting an arm linger over Capsize’s shoulder while she turned back to the book at hand, scanning the rest of the page. Her mind flooded with ideas and she hastily cleared a space to start taking notes on their newest discovery.

Of course, being so caught up in her newest lead, Sonja missed the faint blush and wide-eyed look Capsize gave her.

[kheprrison-arts]

War Soldier Chapter Nine

Fandom: Mianite Ship: Diacate Chapters: 9/? Summary: Tom gets a bit curious in his visions and crosses a line with Furia. A/N: I’m so sorry these end up so short. Tags: @syndianites @syndcates @theshadowlord (if anyone else wants to be tagged please tell me and I’ll tag you in future chapters.)

“What’s the protocol today?” Syndicate asked Dianite who sat in his office reviewing some papers. The doors were closed and locked just so people don’t run in randomly and bombard him with questions and complaints, he’d have to finish the paperwork for that first.

“Same as usual,” Dianite grunted. He set one of the papers down on the stack by the corner of the desk and moved on to another paper. He hadn’t signed anything yet.

“Good to know,” Syndicate nodded. He was so confused. At this point he didn’t know what was and wasn’t reality because he turned his head and saw Furia was perfectly fine unlike a minute ago. Furia stood next to the desk Dianite sat at, he’s in his uniform (or armor) on him that associates his rank as a guardian.

“What, Pipsqueak?” Furia snapped, glaring at Tom.

“Be nice, Furia,” Dianite mumbled, barely sparing him an annoyed glance but the way his ear twitches told the two he wasn’t happy with anything and wasn’t in the mood to deal with anyone. It’ll suck when the doors are unlocked.

Dianite sighed and set his papers down. Of course, to ease his OCD he straightened the stack of papers. He stood and approached Tom, waving his hand to him. Tom went over, grabbing his keys he had and unlocking the door. Before he even got to take the keys out Dianite opened the door and stormed out.

“Something definitely has his feathers ruffled,” Furia snorted and crossed his arms before following his god. Tom sighed and followed suit, still confused. He hoped he’d wake up soon, he wouldn’t want to see Furia in pain but he wants to make sure the fire demon is alright. Unless it’s not a dream.

He pushed the thought aside (not that he wanted to) and continued walking before he walked right into a door or walk or something. Furia would get on his ass if he did and he was pretty sure the whole kingdoms would know about it by tomorrow.

Tom stopped by the throne, Dianite’s office being down the hallway behind it but also across the hall from the staircase that lead to his actual room (almost just like the temple back home).

The Lord was already sat in his throne, getting comfortable. “You don’t mind opening the door do you, Syndi?”

The name caught Syndicate off guard, but he bowed his head anyway, “Of course. I just have a question for you first.”

“Go ahead…” Dianite wave his hand, training his eyes one one of his most trusted soldiers.

“I mean… alone if that’s okay?”

“You have nothing to hide, Syndicate, you know this,” Dianite spoke, his tone was not angry but more like a mother to her children which wasn’t unknown to the other two in the room, “we’re a family here.”

“Y-yessir,” Tom swallowed, “do you, uh, by chance now someone by the name of… uh—” he cleared his throat—“Calamity?”

Furia didn’t budge unlike Tom expected him to, he didn’t even look his way. Maybe Furia didn’t know anyone who went by the name Calamity, at least not yet. It is an odd name for someone, though.

“Calamity…” Dianite repeated with a hum, a deep rumbling coming from his throat yet he wasn’t hostile in anyway. His ears did twitch but they didn’t show any signs of actually moving. Maybe they weren’t rotatable like Furia’s is. “I know of a Calamity,” Dianite said, “but I don’t know anyone who actually goes by the name.” He leaned back in his throne, in deep thought.

“Are you sure?” Furia asked, not moving his position beside Dianite. Although he did raise a brow, staring at the god from the corner of his eye. Dianite gave him a confused look. “How ‘bout you let Syndicate explain what he looks like, maybe that will refresh your memory?”

“Of course,” Dianite chuckled and looked back towards Tom, giving him his full attention.

Tom immediately described the Calamity he saw before being knocked out. Striking a scary resemblance to Furia; his long white hair that he swear was glowing, his icy blue eyes that sparkled like opals, and his dark skin. The ears that resembled both the Lord and Furia’s own. And even having parts of his body covered in ice, whether he was made out of it like Furia or it was just a defensive state of his body trying to adapt to the coldness of both his heart and his own destruction.

Furia’s posture did not change but he did revert his attention fully to Tom, his head turned to him with his mouth turned in a frown and his golden eyes narrowed.

“You speak of a guardian I created for my brother long ago,” Dianite spoke and Tom could tell he was hesitant to reveal such information. “His name is Avari. Where did you get Calamity from?”

“I…” Tom didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t just tell Dianite this was all a dream. Just a vision. Or a figment of his imagination. Besides… this felt so real, this felt like it happened to him. Deep inside his gut he knew he lived here, trained here… but he couldn’t pinpoint why or when. Or even where. “I guess it was just… I dunno. A gut feeling.”

[kheprrison-arts]

War Soldier (Chapter Eleven)

Fandom: Mianite Ship: Diacate Chapters: Summary: Tom and Furia don’t exactly have the best time. Yer boi decides to show up.

One of Calamity’s dogs had gotten closer, sitting on its hunches code to the spikes that blocked the boys’ path out. It’s pelt is a pure white and nearly glows, even the pelt reflects the surroundings of the dog like water. The pelt also has thin and sharp ice spikes jutting out and its face also made of the same material. All three are about five feet tall on all fours and threatening as all hell.

Furia’s ears folded back, more in agression than submission, while he glared straight into the dog’s eyes.

In fact… now that Tom thinks about it, the dog looks more like an ancient wolf of sorts.

“Calamity is able to create creatures to protect him,” Furia whispered, “in not entirely a fan of dogs and Calamity seems to know that.”

“So is… Calamity your…”

“My what?” Furia frowned.

“Your… your brother?”

Furia let out an exasperated sigh. He did not want to deal with this but he answered anyways, “Yes. Calamity, also known as Avari, is my brother.” “I kind of figured. You two look a lot alike.”

“I wish we didn’t.”

The wolves started howling and barking. Then they all jumped up and ran towards the left hallway where they and Calamity first entered from. “Hey!” Calamity’s voice bounced down the hallway to the right alongside patting footsteps. Furia chuckled when he and Tom saw Calamity run down the halls, chasing his pets. “Get back here!” He shouted, disappearing down the hall again.

“Okay,” Furia snorted and shifted his weight to his other side. We faced Tom and grabbed a hold of the icy chain wrapped around his ankle.

“What’re you doing?” Tom asked while Furia kept his fingers wrapped around the chain.

“Seeing if I’m hot enough to melt it,” Furia sneered, finding himself disappointed when the chains did not show signs of melting. “Either the ice is not ice, or I’m just still too weak for this… whatever it is it’s not melting.”

“I think you’re just too weak—” Furia glared at him, so he spoke slowly. “I’m not saying it’s a bad thing… I’m saying that you need rest and I’m worried about you. I think… if Dianite is coming, we will have to wait here for him.”

“… okay,” Furia whispered, taking his hand back and dipping his head down. “I’ll stay here,” he looked up at Tom without moving his head, “nothing will happen to us as long as I’m here.”

“Thank you—”

“Besides it’snot like I wasn’t to face those damned dogs,” Furia growled.

Tom chuckled, he knew Furia cared about him, he just didn’t want to admit it because he has a huge ego. He guessed that was something he got from Dianite.

Suddenly he felt his ankle become cold and wet. He looked over and nearly jumping out of his skin when he saw a familiar hand pull itself back. He looked at the owner, Dianite crouched low behind him. He was so silent, Furia would’ve said something if he saw the god but he seemed as surprised and happy and him. “Mom!” Furia nearly jumped into Dianite’s arms but he stayed put so he wouldn’t exhaust himself anymore.

“Hello. Now shush,” he said, patting Furia’s head, “I’ll be right back. I want you to to escape while I go find Calamity.”

“How will we do that, though?” Tom asked.

“I have the whole place mapped out,” Dianite shrugged, “Furia I want you to give him directions while he helps you.”

“Alright,” Furia answered quietly and nodded his head. Tom got up and then helped Furia get up as well, throwing his arm under Furia’s and letting Furia wrap his arm around Tom’s back. Dianite quickly stood up and ran out, despite his weight he made no sound when running. His wings locked close to him behind his back while he disappeared down one of the hallways.

“Don’t be a sissy and just carry me,” Furia growled when he noticed Tom having a hard time figuring out how they’d walk like this. “I don’t way that much!”

“Despite you being half dead you seem to manage bossing me around easily,” Tom snorted and pulled furia’s legs up to carry him. “You’re such a liar,” he struggled.

“Good for you,” Furia yawned and pointed over to a corridor across their way, one that they haven’t seen Calamity go down. He shouted “Pronto!”

Tom groaned and started quickly walking towards the corridor. When he began to run when Furia said that he’s going the right way Furia had cursed and wrapped his arms around Tom’s neck, scared to fall over.

“I gotcha, ya weirdo,” Tom chuckled.