Post by Maeve Rakshasa on Jul 8, 2016 3:05:20 GMT
Tick...
...Tock
Tick...
...Tock
The sounds of the heavy pendulum swaying back and forth filled the mystical room. Standing alone within it was the up and coming Kami: Maeve Rakshasa. The demonic goddess had her eyes squeezed shut as she tried to recall the words her master had imparted to her before she entered the strange room. The kitsune had done a lot of research to find what needed to be done for Maeve to become ready to fully embrace her role so she wanted to follow her instruction perfectly. The demoness' brow knitted as she cleared her mind with the ticking of the clock.
...Tock
Tick...
...Tock
The sounds of the heavy pendulum swaying back and forth filled the mystical room. Standing alone within it was the up and coming Kami: Maeve Rakshasa. The demonic goddess had her eyes squeezed shut as she tried to recall the words her master had imparted to her before she entered the strange room. The kitsune had done a lot of research to find what needed to be done for Maeve to become ready to fully embrace her role so she wanted to follow her instruction perfectly. The demoness' brow knitted as she cleared her mind with the ticking of the clock.
The visage of the small kitsune girl appeared before the dragoness as she cleared her mind. A soft smile crossed the golden fox's lips as her words echoed out through Maeve's memory. The clarity of each word drowned out the pendulum and allowed Maeve to focus.
"There are three trials that you must undertake in order to ready your heart and soul for the transference. You must face the darkness of your past, present, and future to create the divide between the good and evil in your heart. Only then will I be able to transfer and seal away your negative energy. Only then will you be able to claim your role as Kami."
Maeve's eyes opened as she looked up to the various gears that ticked endlessly above. "I need to face the darkness...Of my past..." Her gaze shifted down to the floor before she felt a pulse pound in her heart. "M-my past..." Her eyes widened, pupils contracting as a new flood of memories hit her. Lunar's dark sonata, the battle with Habana, the death of Natto, and the battle with Etoru's demon spirit. Her clawed hands balled into fists causing her fingers to pop. An image of a silhouette consumed in fire burned away the memories. A shadowy figure bore down upon her threatening to consume her in the flames of disaster that seemed to radiate from it.
"Rakshasa..."
Her demonic ancestor's spirit was always with her. It influenced her actions and empowered her rage. She could recall feeling him grasping her blade alongside her. So, if she were to dispel the evil in her heart she needed to confront her ancestor first and foremost. Thankfully she had a means to (symbolically) do so. The very room she stood in could distort time and space to send the consciousness of the user to a time and place of their choosing.
The pendulum swung back and forth as Maeve thought of her destination. The low ticking consumed her mind until everything was silent. Her eyes opened to look upon the magenta sky. Her gaze shifted down to the rapidly shifting landscape up to the chaotic mess that composed the horizon. She looked away, the landscape fading into obscurity as she turned to face something that caused her heart to stop.
Splitting the ground into a series of fissures was titanic piece of metal casually embedded within the rocky terrain. The massive object reached up like a towering skyscraper making it nearly impossible to see exactly what it was. Beside it was a monolithic monument that had been carved into a mountain by the hands of countless slaves over the course of many brutal years. Just from one side Maeve could see hundreds of hieroglyphics written in a Demonic tongue long forgotten. Crude images of conquest, death, and violence were displayed alongside each of the hieroglyphics telling the countless stories of a demonic god's reign.
"This is...A shrine to my ancestor? I-Impossible...It's...Gargantuan! These people see him as a god..." She choked, her eyes widening while her pupils contracted to pinpoints in her mixture of unfathomable awe and sheer terror. She took a step back, jaw slackening as she tried to articulate thought but could only stammer as she tried to fathom just what sort of impact her blood had left on the realm.
"There are three trials that you must undertake in order to ready your heart and soul for the transference. You must face the darkness of your past, present, and future to create the divide between the good and evil in your heart. Only then will I be able to transfer and seal away your negative energy. Only then will you be able to claim your role as Kami."
Maeve's eyes opened as she looked up to the various gears that ticked endlessly above. "I need to face the darkness...Of my past..." Her gaze shifted down to the floor before she felt a pulse pound in her heart. "M-my past..." Her eyes widened, pupils contracting as a new flood of memories hit her. Lunar's dark sonata, the battle with Habana, the death of Natto, and the battle with Etoru's demon spirit. Her clawed hands balled into fists causing her fingers to pop. An image of a silhouette consumed in fire burned away the memories. A shadowy figure bore down upon her threatening to consume her in the flames of disaster that seemed to radiate from it.
"Rakshasa..."
Her demonic ancestor's spirit was always with her. It influenced her actions and empowered her rage. She could recall feeling him grasping her blade alongside her. So, if she were to dispel the evil in her heart she needed to confront her ancestor first and foremost. Thankfully she had a means to (symbolically) do so. The very room she stood in could distort time and space to send the consciousness of the user to a time and place of their choosing.
The pendulum swung back and forth as Maeve thought of her destination. The low ticking consumed her mind until everything was silent. Her eyes opened to look upon the magenta sky. Her gaze shifted down to the rapidly shifting landscape up to the chaotic mess that composed the horizon. She looked away, the landscape fading into obscurity as she turned to face something that caused her heart to stop.
Splitting the ground into a series of fissures was titanic piece of metal casually embedded within the rocky terrain. The massive object reached up like a towering skyscraper making it nearly impossible to see exactly what it was. Beside it was a monolithic monument that had been carved into a mountain by the hands of countless slaves over the course of many brutal years. Just from one side Maeve could see hundreds of hieroglyphics written in a Demonic tongue long forgotten. Crude images of conquest, death, and violence were displayed alongside each of the hieroglyphics telling the countless stories of a demonic god's reign.
"This is...A shrine to my ancestor? I-Impossible...It's...Gargantuan! These people see him as a god..." She choked, her eyes widening while her pupils contracted to pinpoints in her mixture of unfathomable awe and sheer terror. She took a step back, jaw slackening as she tried to articulate thought but could only stammer as she tried to fathom just what sort of impact her blood had left on the realm.
"How disrespectful. Would you think they'd see anything less? Littlest Ember?"
A powerful voice calling Maeve by her childish nickname shook the air with a deep rumble. Maeve's headfins shot up in alarm as she suddenly felt a shadow cast over her. Before she could move A cage of mighty, clawed fingers crashed into the rock around her. She scrambled back pressing into one of the digits as she watched the ground crumble beneath her as the claws effortlessly dug into stone flooring and closed around her. She watched as she was lifted up, gravel slipped between the behemoth's grasp as she looked out to see her surrounding's rapidly ascending. The metal like object jutting from the ground was actually the massive sword of Rakshasa. The stone monument meanwhile, turned out to be a massive throne. Sitting in it was a colossus that was Rakshasa. The originator of her clan and bloodline.
Within moments she was brought before the ancient demon's face. He was just as the legends foretold: with eyes of liquid gold and hair composed of crimson flame; he clearly was the originator of Maeve's striking pigmentation. Other key features such as his armor like scales, headfins, claws, and pointed ears made the connection between ancestor and descendant more abundantly clear. His ridiculously jaw dropping scale, imposing ebony armor, and vicious aura of a slaughterer of countless lives easily set them apart however.
He was the physical embodiment of the clan's ideals: Violence, power, and dominance.
Maeve's trembling caused her to lose her footing making her collapse into a sitting position within the spacious palm of the leviathan. She gawked against her originator as she was threatened to be consumed by his fiery gaze alone. "Y-You know...Who I am?" She managed to barely squeak out: fear compelling her to find her words against the mighty visage before her. She flinched and lowered her headfins in a submissive manner as Rakshasa shifted in his throne. She relaxed, slightly, as he moved his fist not to crush her like a bug for speaking; but to rest his jaw against his fist in a bored manner. His tail flicked left and right as it draped against the throne's arm rest to display his dissatisfaction.
"You continue to underestimate me. My spirit has influenced you and the rest of your clan for countless generations. I've always been with you, as such I am well aware of this illusion you have created with the magic of mortals. Even if I wished to punish your insolence and disrespect you and I both know that it would be a futile effort. So speak whelp, and I may humor you. What does the 'hero' of the demon realm desire of her ancestor...."
His voice rumbled as he looked upon the much smaller dragoness with an impatient glare. Maeve bristled slightly under his glare but eventually stood to face him, her golden eyes meeting the intense glow of that glare. She exhaled through her nostrils, flagged her headfins, and straightened her back as she took a more confident stance and stepped towards Rakshasa.
"If you've been with me, you know why I have come." She spoke, more and more confidence slipping into her words as she went on. "You must have seen the path that I have chosen. You must already understand that by walking it I will be disregarding my home in the Demon Realm for the safety of the Earth. I'll be shutting you out. If I choose to go through with this I will fight on my own from now on. I will no longer be your pawn in exchange for your power." She recalled once more how Rakshasa's spirit would over take her filling her with his latent fury and used it as a mighty weapon.
"I know I must bring you great shame b-"
"Silence. I will not tolerate such foolishness."
The great demon's voice echoed as he interrupted the young woman.
"If you had brought shame upon my name, do you honestly think we'd be talking at this moment? Would I continue giving power to a worthless WHELP?"
Rakshasa's growl thundered around Maeve as his fingers began to curl around her. The demoness staggered back as the blade-like claws threatened to impale her.
"While it is true that I do not understand why you choose to support and protect WEAKNESS: you are no weakling. You have faced foes of all kinds fearlessly as someone of my blood would. You exist as the strongest demon within the mortal realm. You are now taking your place as ruler of one of their worlds. If you think you are different then you are merely deluding yourself. Violence, power, and dominance still guide your actions even if you refuse to admit it. You are a my descendant. Nay, my second coming . Countess."
His furious hiss echoed out as his hand suddenly closed over her form to hold her tight and draw her closer still to his burning eyes.
"I have fueled your endeavors with portions of my might to aid you so you may continue following my footsteps! Like you: I was an outcast. In a realm of tricksters and fiends I fought with honor and with pride, and by my hard work alone I carved my place into history with my blade! I became one of the most powerful demons the realm had ever known! A single stroke of my blade was all I needed to end wars. It was all I needed to annihilate any threat to what was MINE. With my help, you too will have the power to shake realms."
To emphasize his point the demonic ancestor would lift his blade in his free hand and swipe before him. A massive wave of black and red energy would suddenly rip from the blade sending a bluster of energy slicing through the ground and into the horizon only to explode in a violent light.
"Is this not what you seek Maeve? The power to make a difference? The power to change things? Admit it! Without me you'd never get to where you are now!"
Maeve struggled in the demon lord's grasp. Her fists clenched, each of her scaled knuckles popped as she listened to his words. Despite the smug tone there was a semblance of truth to each of them and that caused her blood to boil. She paused however as a sudden realization dawned on her and slowly washed away the rage. She looked up to her ancestor and suddenly let her aura flare. She let out a roar as she was consumed in a silvery aura while she suddenly broke free from his grasp creating a ripple in the air which spread outward. The ripple caused the chaotic, ever changing realm to suddenly still as everything seemingly stopped to listen to what Maeve had to say. Without hesitation she would speak out.
"You're wrong..."
It was a short, simple, stubborn, yet powerful phrase.
"We may be alike in some regard but I don't need you! I couldn't have gotten here on my own, but: I had help...My strength comes not from my rage but from my friends! My courage comes from the desire to protect them! You used people and killed those you couldn't use! You may have fought with honor but how you treated your 'spoils of victory' was deplorable! Your 'throne' spells it out plainly! "
Rakshasa's eyes suddenly widened as his flesh suddenly started to fade away into sand. He looked down to his hand as his hefty blade slipped free from his bony fingers. He let out a wheeze and fell to his knees as the weight of his armor suddenly became too much for his crumbling form to bear. He looked up, his liquid gold eyes losing their glow as he reached out for Maeve suddenly letting out a groan of shock and pain.
"If I just followed your footsteps I'd be alone..." She looked out to the scattered pieces of the warlord's armor that formed a graveyard of sorts. "All I'd have is a body count. All the joy in my life would be for naught." She said as she lowered to the ground approaching the skeletal dragon. "I can't be ashamed or afraid of you anymore. Even with you haunting me I've managed to make a great life for myself. If I'm so afraid of my past I'll never grow, I'll never move on! So...This is over. I don't want you whispering at the back of my neck any longer. I want the freedom to live on my own!" She snapped, and with that the storm of wind would blow the realm away.
When the sand cleared, all that was left was the ticking.
A powerful voice calling Maeve by her childish nickname shook the air with a deep rumble. Maeve's headfins shot up in alarm as she suddenly felt a shadow cast over her. Before she could move A cage of mighty, clawed fingers crashed into the rock around her. She scrambled back pressing into one of the digits as she watched the ground crumble beneath her as the claws effortlessly dug into stone flooring and closed around her. She watched as she was lifted up, gravel slipped between the behemoth's grasp as she looked out to see her surrounding's rapidly ascending. The metal like object jutting from the ground was actually the massive sword of Rakshasa. The stone monument meanwhile, turned out to be a massive throne. Sitting in it was a colossus that was Rakshasa. The originator of her clan and bloodline.
Within moments she was brought before the ancient demon's face. He was just as the legends foretold: with eyes of liquid gold and hair composed of crimson flame; he clearly was the originator of Maeve's striking pigmentation. Other key features such as his armor like scales, headfins, claws, and pointed ears made the connection between ancestor and descendant more abundantly clear. His ridiculously jaw dropping scale, imposing ebony armor, and vicious aura of a slaughterer of countless lives easily set them apart however.
He was the physical embodiment of the clan's ideals: Violence, power, and dominance.
Maeve's trembling caused her to lose her footing making her collapse into a sitting position within the spacious palm of the leviathan. She gawked against her originator as she was threatened to be consumed by his fiery gaze alone. "Y-You know...Who I am?" She managed to barely squeak out: fear compelling her to find her words against the mighty visage before her. She flinched and lowered her headfins in a submissive manner as Rakshasa shifted in his throne. She relaxed, slightly, as he moved his fist not to crush her like a bug for speaking; but to rest his jaw against his fist in a bored manner. His tail flicked left and right as it draped against the throne's arm rest to display his dissatisfaction.
"You continue to underestimate me. My spirit has influenced you and the rest of your clan for countless generations. I've always been with you, as such I am well aware of this illusion you have created with the magic of mortals. Even if I wished to punish your insolence and disrespect you and I both know that it would be a futile effort. So speak whelp, and I may humor you. What does the 'hero' of the demon realm desire of her ancestor...."
His voice rumbled as he looked upon the much smaller dragoness with an impatient glare. Maeve bristled slightly under his glare but eventually stood to face him, her golden eyes meeting the intense glow of that glare. She exhaled through her nostrils, flagged her headfins, and straightened her back as she took a more confident stance and stepped towards Rakshasa.
"If you've been with me, you know why I have come." She spoke, more and more confidence slipping into her words as she went on. "You must have seen the path that I have chosen. You must already understand that by walking it I will be disregarding my home in the Demon Realm for the safety of the Earth. I'll be shutting you out. If I choose to go through with this I will fight on my own from now on. I will no longer be your pawn in exchange for your power." She recalled once more how Rakshasa's spirit would over take her filling her with his latent fury and used it as a mighty weapon.
"I know I must bring you great shame b-"
"Silence. I will not tolerate such foolishness."
The great demon's voice echoed as he interrupted the young woman.
"If you had brought shame upon my name, do you honestly think we'd be talking at this moment? Would I continue giving power to a worthless WHELP?"
Rakshasa's growl thundered around Maeve as his fingers began to curl around her. The demoness staggered back as the blade-like claws threatened to impale her.
"While it is true that I do not understand why you choose to support and protect WEAKNESS: you are no weakling. You have faced foes of all kinds fearlessly as someone of my blood would. You exist as the strongest demon within the mortal realm. You are now taking your place as ruler of one of their worlds. If you think you are different then you are merely deluding yourself. Violence, power, and dominance still guide your actions even if you refuse to admit it. You are a my descendant. Nay, my second coming . Countess."
His furious hiss echoed out as his hand suddenly closed over her form to hold her tight and draw her closer still to his burning eyes.
"I have fueled your endeavors with portions of my might to aid you so you may continue following my footsteps! Like you: I was an outcast. In a realm of tricksters and fiends I fought with honor and with pride, and by my hard work alone I carved my place into history with my blade! I became one of the most powerful demons the realm had ever known! A single stroke of my blade was all I needed to end wars. It was all I needed to annihilate any threat to what was MINE. With my help, you too will have the power to shake realms."
To emphasize his point the demonic ancestor would lift his blade in his free hand and swipe before him. A massive wave of black and red energy would suddenly rip from the blade sending a bluster of energy slicing through the ground and into the horizon only to explode in a violent light.
"Is this not what you seek Maeve? The power to make a difference? The power to change things? Admit it! Without me you'd never get to where you are now!"
Maeve struggled in the demon lord's grasp. Her fists clenched, each of her scaled knuckles popped as she listened to his words. Despite the smug tone there was a semblance of truth to each of them and that caused her blood to boil. She paused however as a sudden realization dawned on her and slowly washed away the rage. She looked up to her ancestor and suddenly let her aura flare. She let out a roar as she was consumed in a silvery aura while she suddenly broke free from his grasp creating a ripple in the air which spread outward. The ripple caused the chaotic, ever changing realm to suddenly still as everything seemingly stopped to listen to what Maeve had to say. Without hesitation she would speak out.
"You're wrong..."
It was a short, simple, stubborn, yet powerful phrase.
"We may be alike in some regard but I don't need you! I couldn't have gotten here on my own, but: I had help...My strength comes not from my rage but from my friends! My courage comes from the desire to protect them! You used people and killed those you couldn't use! You may have fought with honor but how you treated your 'spoils of victory' was deplorable! Your 'throne' spells it out plainly! "
Rakshasa's eyes suddenly widened as his flesh suddenly started to fade away into sand. He looked down to his hand as his hefty blade slipped free from his bony fingers. He let out a wheeze and fell to his knees as the weight of his armor suddenly became too much for his crumbling form to bear. He looked up, his liquid gold eyes losing their glow as he reached out for Maeve suddenly letting out a groan of shock and pain.
"If I just followed your footsteps I'd be alone..." She looked out to the scattered pieces of the warlord's armor that formed a graveyard of sorts. "All I'd have is a body count. All the joy in my life would be for naught." She said as she lowered to the ground approaching the skeletal dragon. "I can't be ashamed or afraid of you anymore. Even with you haunting me I've managed to make a great life for myself. If I'm so afraid of my past I'll never grow, I'll never move on! So...This is over. I don't want you whispering at the back of my neck any longer. I want the freedom to live on my own!" She snapped, and with that the storm of wind would blow the realm away.
When the sand cleared, all that was left was the ticking.
