Remus shut his eyes tightly against the pressure threatening to tear the hair off his brows, fingers stubbing with pain as he clung on with all his might.
Unfortunately, this ascent was substantially longer than his first. Dancing winds launched themselves at his flailing form for no other reason than to annoy him, and even through the closed curtains that were his shut eyelids, Remus found himself blinded by an impossibly bright light. Out of sheer, mad curiosity — the kind that killed innumerable numbers of cats on the regular — he allowed them to slit open ever so slightly.
The sun beamed down with all the storming wrath you would expect from a perpetual hellblaze, and Remus only had time to squirm under its authority, before Iris stopped abruptly mid-air. Imagine hurtling upwards at a hundred miles per hour, only to abruptly stop in one wind-whipping halt. It was enough to make his stomach heave.
“Any higher, and you’d have trouble breathing, or there would be too many clouds obstructing your view,” Iris explained, bobbling in a barely noticeable fashion, “I’ve tempered the winds to disperse in our local vicinity, but it would exhaust me too much to maintain our position this high up, and do the same to the entire local sky.”
“How long do we have up here?” Remus questioned, eyes scanning in awe at the collection of circular and triangular strips of land that made up Hybrid.
“Hovering is considerably less demanding than flying. We have enough time.”
Reassured by the admittedly vague answer, Remus processed the entirety of the city expanding below him in a splurge of contrasting colour. First was the very outer areas of Hybrid: the eight territories. All unique, warring regions, in a perpetual stalemate where hardly anyone could conquer an extra inch of land.
At their immediate location, gusting winds beat down stubbornly on the immense flatland that was the Tempest Territory; the Sky Fortress now a mere blip far, far below their feet. Of course, nearby, in roughly equally as large landmasses, were the other territories he and Violet had dragged themselves through — Territory Seven’s non-ending sprawl of green muck, neighbouring the pyramids and mountains jutting out on either side of the ravine that split Territory Eight roughly in half. Just beyond, the haunting bonfire of the Flame Sect’s territory set a hazy filter over the entire area, but Remus spared little thought for the territories as a whole.
Sure, the crystal-clear waters of Territory Four, hosting the underwater cities of the Aquatic Sect, were nothing to scoff at. And, yes, without a doubt, Remus couldn’t help but marvel at the colossal tree at the precise epicentre of The Wild Clan’s Territory, stuck in all four seasons at once in a bizarre clash of aesthetics. But that didn’t change the fact that Remus had come here to search for the Ambition Sect, and it would never be found here.
No, for if he ever wanted to arrive at that elusive landmark, Remus would have to pass his line of vision further up, and to the right. Towards the ring of nonsensical earth that was the Shifting. A bizarre dreamscape right out of a fever dream. One spawned out of the disillusions of a fierce headache, a blood-curdling nightmare, and a drunkard, with more alcohol than Ichor passing through him.
It was an imperfect circle containing yet another imperfect circle, the latter being the city proper. A run-down, plant overrun castle where the reigning monarch, God-Graced Juniper of The Wild Sect, would sit comfortably upon the Silver Throne. Remus almost drooled thinking of the power that seat could bestow, but he knew he was not yet ready to harness it. One day, however, he thought to himself, anchoring his attention fully to the Shifting, one day.
The secondary circle demanded considerably more willpower to station his gaze at, primarily because the millenia old castle was far simpler. The eyes strayed towards the sight they were most accustomed to, and something he could put no descriptor upon was utterly foreign. He did his best to fashion the absurdities into words, as he turned his attention to the Shifting, regardless.
Imagine a thousand different environments, a least half of them alien, with no regard for the kinds of biomes that would ever naturally form. Now shred all of these into a grinder, and watch the fragments flicker through the air like fleeting snowflakes. Lastly, in the world’s most convoluted jigsaw puzzle, plaster them all together, with no heed for logic. And visualise this process occurring over and over again, in a perpetual mishmash. A mess basking in a greater havoc than Violet could have ever hoped of spurring into being.
This was the sight Remus laid witness to, blinking rapidly in a fruitless attempt to stop his eyes from stinging.
“Are you finding anything?” Iris called, over the deafening sweeps of the wind.
“Just getting to grips with what exactly it is I’m seeing . . . or what I’m looking for.”
Remus hadn’t actually considered what a legendary, ancient sect would look like. Particularly a clan of such a vague idea. What powers could an Ambition Mark bestow the Enkindled? Remus hadn’t the slightest idea for either of these questions, but he felt a giddy excitement that could have very well been sickness mistaken. Remus’s entire journey, in a sense, had all been one long search, scouring for these answers. If he knew anything, it was that up here would be his best shot at acquiring them, or at the very least, a start.
There was also the troubling issue of how the sect would maintain its position, in a land prone to reconstructing itself from the ground up at any passing second’s whim. If it travelled along the tide of the altering turbulence of the Shifting, he had a better chance of finding a needle in a haystack.
Iris spun slowly in full, repeating turns, allowing him to strain his eyes in his efforts. It was hard to see anything in full detail up here, and yet another aggravating issue presented itself: what if the clan was too small in size to be spotted from miles above? Perspiration dripped down Remus, as he was struck by the scale of his task.
Think! He told himself, scrambling his brains. Assuming that the Ambition Sect stays put, that would mean the surrounding area would also remain unchanged.
Collecting himself, blind hope pushing frantic fear at bay, Remus underwent another scan of the surroundings. “Tell me if you see someplace that’s left unaltered down there. I’m getting the feeling that might be our jackpot.”
Restraining from speaking unless necessary, to preserve energy, Iris obliged by his request. For a time, this silent search continued, with Remus’ scowl growing more defined by the minute. With every passing second the fabled clan eluded him, his finite hope gradually tapered out.
One word, and it was revitalised to maximum capacity. “There!”
Remus shot to where Iris was looking, a hearty laugh booming out of him. An unmoving patch of razed land was situated beyond the perimeters of Territory Three, of the Mammal Sect. The vague outlines of buildings were but toy blocks the size of dust particles beneath him, and there was the chance it wasn't even the Ambition Sect at all. Nevertheless, it was his best shot.
“Thank you Iris,” he practically yelped in glee, a smile presenting all his teeth widening on his face, “I’ve found it. You can take me down now. I really mean it, I can’t thank you a . . .”
He trailed off, noticing the horrified expression contorting the woman’s features.
“Iris?” Remus spoke again, carefully this time. “What’s the matter?”
When greeted with no response, he instead followed the direction she was facing.
If Remus wasn’t under the mercy of an air bubble, and a steady hand upon his escort, he would have scampered backwards in a lethal reaction.
A splinter in reality itself, like nothing he had ever seen, pulsated in a harsh violet light before him. Throat running dry at the sight of it, Remus didn’t know what to think, as a hand followed by an arm — embraced by a wildly expensive gauntlet — reached out of the tear. The upper body of Nova, God-Graced of the Chaos Sect, emerged. The leonine man grinned in a fixed rictus, his crimson irises — Violet’s irises — tiny pinpoints of hellfire.
“At last we meet, Death-Marked,” he intoned, and Remus found himself joining in with Iris, as the woman trembled gently, “though I suppose that title doesn’t quite fit you anymore, does it? Remus it shall have to be then.”
“How did you,” Remus choked, feeling the supporting tempest around him growing abnormally shaky, “how did you find me?”
Nova barked in a laugh that ended a little too quickly. “Perpetual Sight. Us God-Graced are quite intune with Infinity you see. We can have eyes anywhere we wish. Once I sensed a group of presences so high above Hybrid, my interest was piqued, and just look at the fortune I scored! Now then-” He huffed. “-where is my daughter?”
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Remus felt his every muscle contract, as a thousand agonises were inflicted upon his helpless body. The winds surrounding him dispersed, and the only power keeping him aloft was Nova, but under the cries that throttled out of his throat, he wasn’t entirely sure which scenario he would have preferred. Hurtling straight to his death, or being left as the subject of Nova’s ever creative cruelties.
A warm presence beside him was robbed of all its heat, leaving a shallow cold in its place. In a turn of the head that cost him an agonising struggle, Remus' eyes had no trouble widening.
They watched as Iris’ body swayed from side to side, the Mark streaking across her forehead dimming, and in a fate that now seemed so painfully inevitable, she toppled over. Her lifeless form sank downwards, and for the very first time, right at the end of her life, the woman was at the ruthless mercy of gravity.
A pitiful squeak escaped Remus, followed up by a world-shattering wail.
“You bastard!” He roared, giving no heed to the consequences spouting such profanities to a sect leader would have. “Rot. Rot in he-!”
A blast of power, not meant to kill or maim, but to simply hurt, cut him off.
“What are your feelings on death, Remus?” Nova teased. “Are you afraid?”
“I don’t know.” He spluttered in response. “Maybe I’ll have settled my feelings on the matter after I pull the heart out of your- gaah!”
Another vexing chuckle. “You have quite the mouth for someone at the end of their line, I’ll give you that. But you haven’t answered my question.” His tone grew serious, and Remus whimpered under the added pressure threatening to crack his bones right down to their marrow. “Where is Violet? I know she must be somewhere down there with you. At the Sky Fortress, perhaps? Please save me the boredom of summoning down hell onto this petty outpost, and tell me of her whereabouts. We’ve had enough bodies raining down today, but don't think I won’t hesitate to add yours to the stockpile.”
Before Remus could omit his next breath, a blast of neon green fizzled into existence at their side. Nova scrowled, before the woman could even make her appearance. “Joining us for tea?”
“For Infinity’s sake, what on earth are you doing right above my city, Nova?” A stern voice questioned, as Juniper’s face appeared.
Gods above, Remus cursed inwardly, his throat aching too much for the comment’s strain, two God-Graced after my head. Lovely.
The leader of The Wild Sect laid her eyes upon Remus, no surprise at his presence.
“Don’t act like you’re not aware of why I’m here.” Nova spoke. “Our little fugitive here got too cocky — too comfortable — and thought it a wise idea to reveal his location right to us. Not that I’m complaining.”
Juniper did not look pleased at all, the tiny cut above her lip more prominent than it ought to be. “I sensed another presence here, but it simply vanished. Did you kill a citizen Nova, not on the battlefield?”
“She was conspiring with a criminal Juniper, and in case you have forgotten, the world has been at war for the past millennia! Humanity was stirred into the Mortal Realms as vessels of warfare, and noting the fact that we’re out of Divine Ground, no holy oath inhibits me from killing who I see fit. I could even raise my arm towards you, gods forbid I ever be tempted.”
“Don’t get cocky Nova.” She wrinkled her nose. “Just because your sect has seen some impressive progress in the past two decades, doesn’t mean The Wild Clan couldn’t diminish your men to their Ichor if they so wished.”
Nova waved a hand to the side. “Water under the bridge. We’re both after the same thing at the end of the day, to deliver justice.”
His eyes returned for what felt like the hundredth time to Remus, and it was only out of his inability to move that allowed him to hold Nova’s glare. “Answer me, or I might just get bored of keeping you up here. Where. Is. My. Daughter?”
Each word came with its own puncturing attack. Remus shivered, as what felt like four separate blades, unperceivable to the human eye, knifed him. Whether he would be actually injured, or if this pain was just for show, wouldn’t be revealed until later.
If Nova didn’t render him a grease stain onto the palace below, that was.
Remus looked over in desperation to Juniper, but she kept her features rigid. Whilst not necessarily agreeing with torturing Remus, what reason did she have to oppose it?
Remus knew he was done for, after ten seconds of stubborn silence, before the burly man groaned in exasperation. “More guests. Wonderful.”
His saving grace was the last person he’d come to expect. A third haze of colour — in this instance, a dazzling gold — and the situation somehow grew a billion times worse.
Damosh’s signature skin of gold would have been a spectacle, if it wasn’t for the Godling the layer adorned. Well-kept hair, the shade of poisonous green, was set into a ducktail cut on his flawless face, which eyes of the same pigment were set into like insidious pearls. His perfect whites actually twinkled as he opened his mouth.
“What is all of this commotion about?” His voice dripped with annoyance, despite the fact the Godling had taken the time out of his own day to arrive here, out of no-one’s violation but his own.
“Stick your nose out of business that doesn’t concern you, Damosh.” Nova muttered, wise enough not to raise his voice too loudly against the ruler of a city he was partly based in.
Remus’s heart leapt into his throat, as the target of all his ire turned a lazy head towards him. “The Death-Marked. So you found him.”
“So he can see!” Nova laughed with no humour behind it. “Now if you would kindly bugger off, I was just finishing up business.”
Damosh frowned, and Remus knew that Juniper was exhibiting more intelligence than any of them by keeping her mouth shut. Nova wasn’t particularly high amongst First Rite’s sect Rankings in the first place, and had solidified himself as one of the key players in Hell’s Floor. Losing a little favour with the reigning king wouldn’t impact him too severely, even if Damosh did decide to punish him a little for his insolence. Nevertheless, he was pushing his luck.
How Remus longed to hold enough power to openly spit in Damosh’s face, knowing full well the Godling couldn’t do anything of substance to get back at him. That was the ultimate goal, to choke Damosh with a helping of his own medicine.
“I'll soon be leaving then. I won’t be taking your insults personally Nova, not only because I’m above your petty attempts to squabble, but also because I can’t turn a blind eye to the issues you’re resolving for my city, with tracking down the Death-Marked and his associates.” Damosh rambled, sinking back through his rift in space. Remus didn’t know how exactly the trio surrounding him were achieving the quirk in reality, but he concluded, in his dazed state of mind, that it was likely something to do with their symmetry with the greater forces of Infinity. “Though in the future, in case I’m not in as forgiving a mood, learn to hold your tongue, okay? It would do you some good.”
Juniper spoke up before Nova could bark back.
“I’ll too be departing.” She announced, her features slowly being engulfed by a verdant corona. “I trust you not to overstep too far in my kingdom, Nova, correct?”
“You have nothing to worry about, Juniper,” Nova muttered, before the group finally disbanded in flashes of fading light.
“A little privacy at last. Where was I? Oh yes, you.”
Remus could do nought, as his entire body spasmed, a puppet at the whims of intangible shackles.
“Last chance.” Nova said matter-of-factly, almost nonplussed. “Tell me. Or die.”
There it was, creeping through the crevices of Remus’ mind in deadly toxins, destroying the essence of his character. Fear, doubt, indecision — all elixirs to undo his being, to crush away his own will, leaving nothing in its wake but the retired desire to simply obey. To let his endless struggles slacken.
“I know where we are Remus. In case you aren’t aware, I sent off my other daughter, Verity, to assist Juniper’s clansmen. How inefficient they are, left to their own devices. My point is, one simple message from me, and Violet will be found either way, regardless of if you decide to cooperate or not. You either die without cause, or live. It's that simple.”
The God-Graced leaned in closer. “I have nothing against you personally Remus; it's Violet I’m after. Killing you just comes down to business. I could almost see myself admiring your schemes if they weren't so foolish.”
“Great.” Remus quavered. “Always wanted an unhinged fanatic as my number one fan.”
Nova furrowed his overgrown eyebrows. “You’re in an exceptionally precarious situation. Buckling a knee to me is your only means of salvaging your own life. So be a good little Death-Marked, and kneel.”
His lips gained a lopsided imbalance. “No.”
Suddenly, Remus felt his secured position wavering, the spaces between the invisible netting holding him in place seeming to expand. His hands instinctively scrambled for non-existent handholds, but found no purchase in the formless air encompassing him. As the last of Nova’s suspending strings dispersed into the reaction of Infinity and Chaos that sustained them, Remus caught one last glimpse of Nova.
Or the horrid beast that had taken his place. A pale white entity waved a pale white hand, its bald scalp as free of hair as his grin was restriction. “Sweet dreams, little one.” Gravity seemed to catch up with Remus, all the world’s weight plunging down upon his chest with the sole purpose of crushing the life out of him. “Sweet dreams indeed.”
Nothing held a crumb of sense. He was hurtling now, the ground rising below him in an indisputable fatality. Not even the cushioning from any catching clouds would save him, the material that made up the Sky Fortress seeming to harden depending on the pressure omitted upon it. His burning form might as well have been a comet dislodged out of orbit, zooming directly into the indifferent arms of concrete.
You were right Violet, even his internal voice choked, what you said about your family . . . you were right.
Still persisting over the threat of his imminent death was Nova’s face — his true face — all cruelty and spite under his undercut front.
Remus stopped struggling. He stopped racking his brain for solutions that weren’t there. If he was going to die, he would face his fate with dignity.
The last thing he saw before shutting his eyes was a blaze of purple, before everything went void.