Chapter 81
Aspect's Chosen (I)
“In the Darkness, we cannot be found; forever bound amidst the river of cosmic deliverance, sustaining the apotheosized Lords and Ladies of Ashes. We await, o’ the Winged One, for your arms to cradle us, and deliver our bewailment.”
Fragments
It had happened just like the last time, beginning with a bedeviled whisper. Noah felt his soul ripped from its seams, cradled in the winds of chill and dark, dragged and tossed through the dimensions themselves. He felt sick, within and without, his eyes unable to adjust to the surrounding blend of the reality, bending and breaking like the shards of glass. It was all collapsing, right in front of him, but he was unable to completely comprehend it.
He gritted his teeth and willed his mind to stay awake, despite the desperate cries calling for a complete shutdown. No… it was even worse than the last time, he realized as the spinning world finally came to a halt. He was lying, staring at the sky so dark it lacked a concept of color. The ground beneath his back was rugged, jagged, and was poking at his back, forcing a yelp out of him as he pushed himself to sit up, something beneath his fingers crunching and breaking. Glancing down, he found himself mortified; bones. So, so many bones – a number beyond counting. All around, forming an eternal ocean, were only the bones – some white, some ashen, some dark and black, like obsidian.
It’s different? He noted – the last time the Dark, or whatever it may have been, had reached out to him, the sight was entirely different. Ghastly, yes, but not quite to this level. It was only then that he felt someone standing behind him. He didn’t know how, and couldn’t even quite describe the sensation, but it forced him to spin his head around and face the figure, or rather, the creature standing there.
It was tall – that was the first thing Noah noticed. Well over whole thirty feet tall, he had to bend his neck back and over to look up at its face. Unlike the sea surrounding it, the figure showcased no bones – at least on the surface – as it was clad in the cradling shadows forming an armor of sorts. The armor had layers to it, forming spikes at the bends, bone-like protrusions as far as he could tell. Where the head stood was instead a helmet, shining in a ghastly splendor, bent inwardly around where the chin ought to be. The face that was supposed be there could not be seen, only two eerily crimson dots shining amidst the ebony dark.
The figure was different as well – not the wailing ghost of a woman who wept incessantly, but something far less repentant from what Noah could gleam. He swallowed a gulp and forced himself onto his feet, continuing to stare up; he was yet to accustom himself to these fanatical and fantastical parts of this world, especially the ones that sported the creatures beyond the membrane of imagination. He felt so tiny and weak, insignificant, staring beneath the behemoth, wondering and pondering on its intent.
“… you are weak,” the creature spoke out in a booming voice, one that had seemingly pushed the winds into existence, the same ones that washed over Noah like a berserk force, pushing him back down onto the uncomfortable bed. “Feeble, like a welp. She chose you? A mistake. An insignificant, warm-blooded creature of desire and pride. So weak, so pathetic. Barely Enshadowed, yet so vain and complacent.”
“…” Noah lacked the necessary knowledge to properly process everything, but, if nothing else, he knew he was being relentlessly mocked and talked down to – which hardly bothered him. Who’d actually dare and refute that thing? Certainly not him. “Make me stronger.” By now, he’d begun to also grasp the general outline of the creature’s ‘personality’, slowly panning out the conversation as to benefit him the most.
“Impossible,” the creature replied with a snort. “A hollow-boned worm like you wishes to become stronger?! Forefathers would mock Us were they dead to see!”
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“Make me stronger.” Noah repeated, gritting his teeth once again and lifting himself back up to his feet.
“You dare stand before the Judicator?!!” the creature snapped in a barking tone, the frigid, biting winds besieging Noah once again, cutting into his flesh like well-sharpened blades. He felt them all, each and every pang of pain that blurred his consciousness temporarily. Despite being well-aware it was not his body being attacked, his mind couldn’t distinguish – it understood as it was being hurt, and it relayed exactly that. Conscious effort to override it was entirely fruitless. “You furnished a few, hollow tricks, and doll yourself out for strength?! Pre-born children of Our Age were stronger than you, worthless welp!” Pre-born children? What the fuck?!
"… m-make me stronger." Noah repeated through the clenched teeth, using all of his willpower not to cry out in pain once again. He'd already projected the personality of a hardened, army general onto the creature – someone who would ride the bones and the souls of the recruits and wouldn't look twice at those who faltered. And that was something he couldn't do – falter.
“Ecfigies weeps, welp. Yaggaal bends in shame, welp. How low have we fallen… to depend on the likes of you?! This Curse!! Curse the World!! Even in Death, We fight! Why?! Why?! Why?!!!" the roars bellowed out one after another, Noah's eardrums slowly beginning to pray for a quick death. "What can you change?! A boneless welp born of flesh and bones and blood! Using Shadows to hide, to skitter, to yelp around those more formidable!! A worthless creature bending its knee to the wasted children of the fake fire! They shouldn’t be worth becoming your slaves, cretin, and yet you fear them!”
“…” Oi, shouldn’t you be noticing my spirit by now, you bastard?! I’m dying over here for fuck’s sake!!
“… no,” the creature said, its voice calming down. “You aren’t worthy. I don’t care for what she said.”
"…" Noah felt himself slowly being pushed but was unwilling. Did he really just endure all that for absolutely nothing?! No – at the very least, he had to vent the frustration lest it ate him alive. “Listen here you fat-fuck!” he screamed out, clawing his way back into the sea of bones, refusing to be pulled out. “Who the fuck do you think you are, huh?!! A pile of dead fucking bones acting self-aggrandized?! ‘Ooh, we were so strong, we were so special, look at this now—’ boo-hoo. If you were so strong and special, you wouldn't be fucking dead, and if I were so weak as you say, I wouldn’t be fucking alive! So get off from that empty throne of yours, and make me fucking stronger, you hear?!"
“…” the pull stopped and Noah wondered whether it worked, stealthily glancing up at the crimson eyes that hadn’t seemed to change. He… shouldn’t kill me, right? Showing a bit of a backbone could usually spark something within people like him, but… well… he may have momentarily forgotten that this thing wasn’t exactly ‘people’.
“… the Dark… is not about the Shadows, welp,” the creature said as Noah silently rejoiced. “What is the Darkness? It is everything. Why use it to hide, when you can use it to swallow the world? It all belongs to you, every part of it. The aphotic visage of the world is our cradle, as much as it is our tomb. The Fragments inside of you compose a whole, like drops of the ocean make it. The Fragments… aren’t living, breathing, or even dead things. They are motes; just as you stare at the sun and bathe in the motes of Light, stare into the abyss and revel in the motes of the Dark. You are weak, human. All of you are weak. You bow to fake gods and construct fake sons and daughters of fake Aspects. Our Age has long since ended… but you lot have forgotten too quickly. All of you have. The whole world of you. Some pray to a toy and seek guidance from it, others pray to a worthless rock, and yet others to a rotting piece of a blade. You are weak.”
“…”
“Everyone can yap their tongues, welp,” the creature said. “Everyone. Can you rise above it? I don’t think you can. Few of Us do. You seem woefully fascinated with empty and worthless causes you’ve entirely forgotten you are the Aspect’s Chosen. Why would the Chosen bother himself with the worthless crowns of the vain? They wouldn’t.”
“…” Noah remained silent, admitting as much as he could to the memory. Though he had no means of knowing even half of what the creature meant, he did know he was being taught some rather important and, more importantly, otherwise wholly forgotten things.
“If you want to prove Us wrong, become a Herald, and reclaim what ought to be rightfully yours. If not, continue chasing the empty shine and forgetting who you are.”
“… who am I?”
“…” the creature looked down at him for a moment, suddenly lifting its hand and pointing its finger at him. “Let me show you…”