#voluntatem

[offulgurian]

“ Not sure if you could tell... ”

voluntatem answered: Here

“And how is this supposed to be news to us?”

“I am just curious as to why my presence is needed. It is wise to have multiple opinions, but, wise to set aside my work as Judge of Angelgard?”

[rexdivinus]

Principium

@voluntatem

Endless fields of blue flowers as far as the tiny wyrm’s eyes could see. A veritable garden of Eden draped in a haze for it is here in this realm separated from another of her creations that Bahamut was born. Cradled by All-Mother Etro’s watchful eye. For all children are born into innocence even those of the gods whom are forged from a different aether than the pyreflies fluttering about the field. They too shall one day become souls of mortals to propagate the new world she creates.

For now they are but playthings for he and his brother, Ifrit, to admire. Tiny lights in which to distract their wonder. Barely alive for a century, the pair know naught else but this existence. Though woven into their bones the two feel their existence special indeed.

Inquisitive and bored Bahamut sought his sibling playfully circling him. “Let us play!”

[amicitiaeclipse]

{voluntatem} Fixing her an unblinking stare, the Inferian proceeds to give the human girl a goat.

@voluntatem new friend !

    She’s heard tales of the Infernian and the Astrals during her religion classes from childhood. The colorful illustrations of the Cosmogony still remains fresh in her mind. The heat emanating from the mighty being makes the air around them sweltering. There’s astonishment and consternation in her eyes—for what normal mortal would not be in complete awe when faced with a God?

    But it breaks when she hears a bleating sound from the enormous fist that lowers right in front of her. More than fear, she’s confused and curious. As his fists unfurls, she sees it. 

    A literal flaming goat. 

    Iris looks from the bleating goat who walks towards her to the Astral. “He’s magnificent,” she starts, albeit a bit uncertain. “And cute.” Could she even pet it? Would it burn? Her hand extends towards the mystical creature. Feeling nothing but a warm heat she gently pokes its head. Oh! It doesn’t burn! Now it gets pets! 

    “What’s his name? Or is it her?”

    Can she keep it? Oh man, she can’t wait to show everyone else!

[ladylunafreyaoftenebrae]

{voluntatem} So hence the Oracle comes to them, harking for a Covenant to be pre-forged? Laugh the Infernian does, and Ifrit swings down their scimitar, a bar to further entreaties for a prince dotted to be sacrifice. "Pray all you want, Oracle," says the Infernian. "We will not grant our Covenant, and death is still death, ever awaiting at the horizon, and Death will /never/ cure the Scourge."

Lunafreya inwardly quails, but stands tall----relatively speaking, of course. Outwardly she doesn’t flinch despite the Infernian’s roared laughter. Her braids are beginning to unfurl from the heat rolling off of Him, but the Oracle does not falter. Her smile in response is sad, but certain. 

“You speak as though You will have a choice in the matter, Pyreburner. The prophecy is even now set in motion, and even You know the fated outcome: the King will rise, will ascend with or without the aid of the Gods, and will purify the stain of the Scourge from our star. Is it not far simpler to comply and lend the Chosen King your aid, rather than be defeated and subjugated by force?”