07-22-2018, 04:59 PM
Armande looked at his notes one last time. Unnecessary, of course. He had them memorized. Perhaps it was impulse. Or maybe the need to rethink his logic. He was not sure what he was trying had ever been done.
The scroll had mentioned a function in passing. He wasn't even sure if it was real. But it seemed consistent. None of this would work if the seed could not be planted. The soil was ripe and ready, freshly fertilized in the most rudimentary way possible. Brandon's sycophants would have filled the place with it. Ambition, hunger, pride, arrogance a mix of perfumes that choked the place.
He imagined Eris and her chaos expanding in ripples, growing with each cycle, gaining energy and momentum, reaching out to lap up and consume city after city, swallowing down thousands of men in great heaving gulps. Unforgotten after 3000 years.
He held the tablet in the palm of his hand, felt the weight of it. His fingertips brushed the ancient copper that was not copper- immune to the passage of time and all her ravaging- feeling the carvings.
Time to toss the golden apple.
Armande intoned the words in the ancient tongue as he pressed his thumb onto the command key. He still felt that ancient kinship. But with Valeriya next to him, it felt unnecessary. This slip of a girl, as fiery and alive as any person he had ever met, was at his side. The living embodiment of Maya, of the universe itself. And he loved her. And Fortuna loved him.
He knew death would one day come, as it came for all life. But Valeriya would carry on. Almost, he regretted his decision all those years ago. Almost, he was willing to have the surgery again, to undo what must never be undone. If only so that their dynasty lasted into the ages. Her seed- their seed- should not perish from the earth. Brandon should quake at the thought. The earth itself should tremble. He felt an evil smile form. God, but it would be glorious.
He was unsurprised to see the cloud in the distance. Silvery blue and grey, it came closer resolving into mist that shifted and billowed, amorphous shape sometimes becoming recognizable as something humanoid.
With a voice like a million bees buzzing, intonation and frequency shifting in and out of register, it spoke in the ancient tongue. "I am here to command."
Armande was no longer unsure. His fingers flew over the keys of the tablet, opening it into the proper mode, setting command pathways. It hovered in the air before him, silent, receiving the direction, mist shifting in and out of shape. A light from deep within glowed, beating in a rhythm that seemed to speed up as he worked.
He looked at Valeriya and then back the ijiraq. This was the part he had been unsure of. Hesitantly, his fingers triggered the function he hoped was real. The light shifted slightly, but it remained in place, compliant. He breathed a sigh of relief and relayed his message. Inside his heart was jubilant.
The final sequence was keyed in and the light flashed more rapidly. And suddenly the ijiraq shivered and quaked, billowing out as though a blast of wind had hit it, then coalescing into human form, the one he remembered, death breathing into his face. Satanic form, pointed ears, black skin split by fissures showing hellish red underneath. It swirled around him, tried to contain him.
Armande felt fear stab through him. He didn't understand. Everything had worked! Everything had happened as he expected.
And then, the scrape of nails on a chalkboard, the whine of a drill on bone, it spoke.
"You are a coward. Pathetic man. I have fed on men like you. You do not command me to die!"
Armande's fingers flew over the tablet, tried to get it into command mode again, but it was not working. It drew closer, reddish eyes a gateway into the fires of hell. Armande could feel the heat as it bared a grin, exposing small sharpened teeth.
"Do you challenge me, human? Come then. Call on your power."
Armande felt its hatred. It was visceral. He could touch it. It drew closer. He felt his skin burning. "Draw it, human, draw your weapon. For millenia I have waited for you. You are my prey. I am not your tool."
He didn't understand. He stood, transfixed, those evil red eyes boring into him. He shook his head, grabbed his heart, quelled the uncertainty. The thing was toying with him, trying to find a way out of its mission. His blue eyes blazed.
"I am Armande Nicodemus. I have commanded you. Obey."
It stood before him, a man now, a demon made flesh, black skin split, magma seeping into the breaks. Its fingers were deadly claws. Armande stood his ground.
It had to obey.
Edited by Regus, Jul 22 2018, 11:58 PM.
The scroll had mentioned a function in passing. He wasn't even sure if it was real. But it seemed consistent. None of this would work if the seed could not be planted. The soil was ripe and ready, freshly fertilized in the most rudimentary way possible. Brandon's sycophants would have filled the place with it. Ambition, hunger, pride, arrogance a mix of perfumes that choked the place.
He imagined Eris and her chaos expanding in ripples, growing with each cycle, gaining energy and momentum, reaching out to lap up and consume city after city, swallowing down thousands of men in great heaving gulps. Unforgotten after 3000 years.
He held the tablet in the palm of his hand, felt the weight of it. His fingertips brushed the ancient copper that was not copper- immune to the passage of time and all her ravaging- feeling the carvings.
Time to toss the golden apple.
Armande intoned the words in the ancient tongue as he pressed his thumb onto the command key. He still felt that ancient kinship. But with Valeriya next to him, it felt unnecessary. This slip of a girl, as fiery and alive as any person he had ever met, was at his side. The living embodiment of Maya, of the universe itself. And he loved her. And Fortuna loved him.
He knew death would one day come, as it came for all life. But Valeriya would carry on. Almost, he regretted his decision all those years ago. Almost, he was willing to have the surgery again, to undo what must never be undone. If only so that their dynasty lasted into the ages. Her seed- their seed- should not perish from the earth. Brandon should quake at the thought. The earth itself should tremble. He felt an evil smile form. God, but it would be glorious.
He was unsurprised to see the cloud in the distance. Silvery blue and grey, it came closer resolving into mist that shifted and billowed, amorphous shape sometimes becoming recognizable as something humanoid.
With a voice like a million bees buzzing, intonation and frequency shifting in and out of register, it spoke in the ancient tongue. "I am here to command."
Armande was no longer unsure. His fingers flew over the keys of the tablet, opening it into the proper mode, setting command pathways. It hovered in the air before him, silent, receiving the direction, mist shifting in and out of shape. A light from deep within glowed, beating in a rhythm that seemed to speed up as he worked.
He looked at Valeriya and then back the ijiraq. This was the part he had been unsure of. Hesitantly, his fingers triggered the function he hoped was real. The light shifted slightly, but it remained in place, compliant. He breathed a sigh of relief and relayed his message. Inside his heart was jubilant.
The final sequence was keyed in and the light flashed more rapidly. And suddenly the ijiraq shivered and quaked, billowing out as though a blast of wind had hit it, then coalescing into human form, the one he remembered, death breathing into his face. Satanic form, pointed ears, black skin split by fissures showing hellish red underneath. It swirled around him, tried to contain him.
Armande felt fear stab through him. He didn't understand. Everything had worked! Everything had happened as he expected.
And then, the scrape of nails on a chalkboard, the whine of a drill on bone, it spoke.
"You are a coward. Pathetic man. I have fed on men like you. You do not command me to die!"
Armande's fingers flew over the tablet, tried to get it into command mode again, but it was not working. It drew closer, reddish eyes a gateway into the fires of hell. Armande could feel the heat as it bared a grin, exposing small sharpened teeth.
"Do you challenge me, human? Come then. Call on your power."
Armande felt its hatred. It was visceral. He could touch it. It drew closer. He felt his skin burning. "Draw it, human, draw your weapon. For millenia I have waited for you. You are my prey. I am not your tool."
He didn't understand. He stood, transfixed, those evil red eyes boring into him. He shook his head, grabbed his heart, quelled the uncertainty. The thing was toying with him, trying to find a way out of its mission. His blue eyes blazed.
"I am Armande Nicodemus. I have commanded you. Obey."
It stood before him, a man now, a demon made flesh, black skin split, magma seeping into the breaks. Its fingers were deadly claws. Armande stood his ground.
It had to obey.
Edited by Regus, Jul 22 2018, 11:58 PM.