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Xibalba

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Aiden:
Xibalba
The Image
"A kingdom is like a large house... where everyone lives together. As family." ~ The Chancellor’s Eulogy.

Xibalba is a seemingly strange place of many mysteries and wonders. Its streets and halls that warp and twist in mind-bending manners, households and structures rotate, float, and merge, all of it made of black and white stones. They almost make it seem like a demented game of chess.

But if one treads with care, courage and a clear mind, he will find in the hearth of the district that it is in fact a place as odd as it is beautiful, and the more you sink inside the more the beauty becomes apparent. From majestic elven structures, to the streets, to the many facilities generously opened up for its citizens… one could call it a paradise for its people. For indeed, the joyous life of its citizens did not begin until Xibalba’s heart beat its first time, aided by the gentle ruling hand of the Queen and her loyal chancellor. And not a single resident denies the fact that this place was their blessing.

They are happy, truly peaceful and joyous, and their sole wish is to keep living in peace and happiness. And in its center, the tower of Sur Carys rises from the earth, and is built upon by the workers even to this day. Some even think that it will eventually reach the heavens.

The Reality
Xibalba is a realm of darkness and delusion. The original populace have been replaced by shadowy simulacra who ably imitate the motions of daily life. Their average and ordinary homes squat beneath looming half-finished walls of black and white stone, and behind them their true lifeless forms silently labor. Day and night they work to build the twisted abodes of an immortal aristocracy not yet in residence, all of them arranged in an incoherent pattern around a central point.

At night the spirits of the dead and damned haunt battlements dusty with the residue of fresh construction, footprints left behind the only sign of their passing. The wailing of banshees echoes through empty corridors, filling them with a song meant for no living soul. They await their new, pointy-eared masters to come and fill them.

The tower Sur Carys rises up from the center of the citadel, its ancient walls of basalt and marble presenting an elegant facade to the world in a display of classical elven architecture. Here the ruler of this place, the Black Queen Serana, oversees the construction process. It is only a matter of time before her siren call begins to pull those of her chosen master race to this place so they might take their place in glory as her subjects.

The Citizens
Shadows from an old world formed nests inside the former citizen’s skins. Now, they wear their faces and dance awaiting the new. These dark organisms are clusters from an alien energy source from another dimension, dark because their very nature is obfuscating, and they do not possess emotions or a will of their own. Since they lack a proper soul and their very essence is a void, or a negative, sensing them through supernatural means is difficult, and one should not be surprised to have one greet you from behind before you even noticed. They are basically guided by ancient magic into acting out as automatons, and act out just like the original humans would have, even replicating some of their memories. The truth is, the line between truth and fiction is blurred, and they genuinely act as if they were the real deal.

The Tower
Serana has always been nobility, and so even in death she rules all she surveys from above. Though her grand palace and sprawling capital city are lost to her, the central tower from which she ruled her terrible empire remains. It contains the lion’s share of Serana’s thousands of years of magical research, and is defended by magical barriers as strong as she can possibly make them. Only sustained artillery barrages can hope to crack its walls, and they lash out in return with dark curses equivalent to cannon fire. Finally, she may perceive around and within it, and cast her magic therein, without being physically present.

(Jointly written with Francobull3)

Kotomine_Rin:
Ezekiel   8:00 AM

"Good morning sunshine!"

His steps walked down the empty manor's halls that had grown familiar to him lately. Since the sun was shining so brightly today, he found it even more tiring to open his eyes than usual. But he managed to get up like he always did. He left to the streets like he always did.

You gotta do what you gotta do. Life's all about the routines, the habits, the stuff you end up not thinking about anymore.

"Oh hi Zeke, you're up early!" A neighbour who was busy tending his garden greeted him with the same warm smile as always. It always warmed his heart, and for a moment his expression faltered into a glad smile. It was nice to see such a hard working man enjoying the simple things. "Hey George. It's lovely out here! Any luck with the tomatoes?"

"Ohoho~ Silly goose, this time I'm doing peppers!" The old man laughed heartily, and for a moment Zeke wanted to laugh too. "Nice! I'll see if I can find that cookbook you wanted. Nothing like a good pepper stew in the season!" And with that he waved to his neighbour.

And he walked, and greeted Martha, who would always walk her dog at this hour. He luckily would always come with a treat, and mess with that lil old feller's fur a bit before going on his way. Jacob usually jogged the same way he walked, so occasionally he'd talk with him, ask him if everything was alright with school. Must be hard having to put so much work into the future, he sure envied that boy. Wanting to become a doctor, its honestly pretty admirable.

And he'd always see Sarah and Lauren bicker about boy stuff and gossip, but he knew they had their eyes on one another. Lucky devils, romance sure is nice. You can't always deny that kind of stuff and put it for later, you might just end up regretting not having said something.

Because if this little piece of land were a ship, it's the captain's duty to make sure no one's left behind. Right?


10:00 AM

"He's back, he's back!"        "Yay! Let's play! Let's play some more!"     "Will he show us any cool tricks!"    "It's the magician!"

Jeez, now that he got to the little park he set up, he could start working. But seeing the dozen of kids flocking at him, he figured this was the one habit he could never get tired of. His smile was warm when they all pounced into him, trying to bring him down again were they! The little rascals! "Hehehe. That's right, I brought some snacks too! Here kiddos."

He raised up a basket full of fruits and some cheese, even juice boxes. But the real surprise he brought was something hard to come by here. Meanwhile a dozen of children were playing happily around him, some chasing after butterflies, others drawing on the ground.

One of them looked more lonesome than the others. "Gotta eat to stay big and strong and healthy, just like me! Hmph!" He flexed a little before taking a seat, and with that the children that were flocking all over the place for a good while finally settled down.... eventually. Life's all about the routines, the habits, the stuff you end up not thinking about anymore. But some of these kids never got to experience that kind of peaceful habit.

Having to worry about tomorrow, never being sure about what's going to come next. Living in fear. Misery. Sadness. He heard their troubles, their worries. Some would go to bed hungry, others didn't even get to go to bed. And the least fortunate wished they'd never have to go on a bed again... it was hard. He had to take it easy, slowly, but here everyone was a family. And family means no one gets left behind. Life's all about the routines, the habits, the stuff you end up not thinking about anymore. He was just glad he could give them a safe place.

Today, he'd show them how to make a bird from a flame's shadow.

Aiden:
Sur Carys

10:00 AM

The antechamber to the tower of Sur Carys was a structure in its own right - a basilica in black. It was barred by steel doors, too heavy for humans to open. Teams of grey-robed figures, silent save for their shambling gait, were chained off to the side so that they might pull the opening mechanism. Within was a magnificent example of elven architecture - a colossal nave with spaces for hundreds of supplicants to kneel and read. Stained glass in shades of white and shale shone with the haunting light of ghost-flames dangling in cages from the vaulted ceiling, each window depicting a scene from antiquity:

The fall of the King Inioch of the Verdant Court, whose death at the hands of the human rabble sundered the elven race for a thousand years.

The end of the Azrac Empire as the Horn of the Dead resounds throughout the desert, dethroning the tyranny of life so that they dead may rise.

The rise of the usurper Gabriel, the immortal angel who wore the shape of man and claimed for all races the fruits of elven labor in the name of the Wizard's Circle.

The opening of the Shadow Realm, and the reunification of the elven race as the daemons within threaten to consume the world.

The final treachery of the mortal races as they tear down all who came before them.

The ascension of the storm sister Serana as the Harbinger of Death, who restored the Elven Court to glory.

At the end of the center aisle was a ramp of stairs leading up to the chancel, the desecrated space where the darkest of rituals were conducted. A triad of bloodstained altars dominated the space, and upon them were freshly dressed corpses. The scent of salts and embalming fluids filled the chamber as black-robed elves worked their wicked spells on the bodies, chanting in demonic tongues and the most ancient of fae verses to guide their work. They prepared suits of grim, eyeless armor and foul blades seething with necrotic energies to be fused to their victim's forms.

Six women in white robes with pointed hats and carrying golden staves stood motionlessly upon the stairs, gazing out over the shadowy simulacra who knelt in supplication before them. A seventh stood a step further back, and preached in a hollow voice. "... and so the final night descended upon the Valley of Wonders, and all whose voices rose up in blasphemy against our lady were gifted with silence. So it is written:"

'That in death, they knew purpose.'

"So it shall be to all who would seek to end what we have wrought."

'They too shall rest.'

Lightning crackled between their golden staves. "So it is known."

----------------------

Serana

At the pinnacle of the tower she sat, flanked on either side by the elegant corpses of her elven guardians and their ceremonial spears. Her chin rested in her hand as she gazed into the black fabric of the center table, and the crimson crystal at its center. She felt for its power, the arcane catalyst, and felt it ebb and dim. An unnecessary sigh escaped her at this. "Such a frustrating turn of events. It seems the flow of mana in this place is all too feeble."

She crossed her legs, and leaned back in her decadent throne. It was to her taste, of course - ghost-fire braziers along the rounded walls of the chamber, shelves full of trophies taken from a dozen slain worlds. The enormous throne room had room enough for an entire warband to fit within, but for now it was empty. Silent.

"We shall have to correct this deficit." Serana's eyes closed in time with her glistening lips, and her senses reached out to the most... difficult of her servants.

'Come here, You.'

Kotomine_Rin:
Ezekiel

'Come here, You.'
"Yes! Haha, you got it!" A bright light, orange like a flame was now enveloping the children and he. One of them had succeeded in taming the star-fire spirit, and now it was answering to the boy! THe children stared wide eyed in marvel. The fire was blossoming in-between the circle of people and sprouting with new life. A magical gestation that rippled with a warm light.

'She is calling'
The boy stuck out his tongue and exerted himself, his arms reached far towards the flame and he clenched his fists, trying to tame the fire. The magical power. But that power was not something from this world, it came from elsewhere. It was starting to grow berserk, lashing out and growing, growing, growing-

An armoured gauntlet pressed on the kid's shoulder, and Ezekiel smiled warmly. On that moment, the flame stood down and rebelled no more. In fact, it compressed into an orb and then rippled with shadows, until it became a black and orange bird of smoke and darkness, with eyes like molten salt. The children stared at it, marvelling. "Wow!"  "You're so cool!"  "I want to marry you!"

'Do not ignore her'
Of course, he blushed at the compliments and rubbed the back of his head. "Hehe. Yep, this is aaaall normal. Erm, you need to let the magic guide you, like a reflection of yourself. Start out with just making fire dance, you'll get the hang of it in no time! Heck, if you're really feeling brave, you can start doing it on a wooden ship in the middle of the ocean! Ahh, that takes me back! Bwahahahahahaha~!"

Until the voice could be ignored no longer. Suddenly, one of the children spoke, with a voice that did not belong to any being of flesh and bone. A nightmare. "You? What are you doing?"

Ezekiel's eyes widened for a second, and he turned around. "Eh? But I was just..." A sharp pain suddenly filled his head, and he winced. His fangs showed, frightening the children. Until his hand suddenly trailed down to his chest, to the scar that had branded him with defeat. And then he remembered.

'Who are you?"
"Right. Yes."

His dark wings sprouted from his back like rot ripping from a carcass. He took flight with the eyes of a corpse. Flapping and beating the air, they let him gain more and more speed, until he could not be seen from the park any longer. Soon, the children got up and turned around and left, each as if nothing happened, their steps and dull eyes reflected the soul of their creator.

It was just another day in Xibalba.


Sadly, crashing through the window was not an option. That meant he had to take the stairs. Jeez, what a pain in the ass. But whatever, he made it nonetheless. ANd when he reached the main throne room, he was greeted with her mug once more. His eyes turned candid, and he grinned.

"Yo. Honey, I'm home."

Aiden:
Serana

It certainly took its time answering her call, didn't it? Still, a smile made its way to her eyes as her strongest servant finally arrived. "Playing with your toys again? Well, I suppose I can hardly justify chiding you for it with all of the effort you continue to put into them."

Serana motioned for it to approach while one of her thralls moved the table aside. If You had a sense for the necrotic then it would recognize the thin haze that hung over the chamber. It was a subtle incense that carried with it the final moments and darkest secrets of the dying from adjacent districts - the whispers of the fallen.

The lich inhaled it, and knew a fraction more than she did before. Then she inclined her head. "Before I begin, tell me of your activities, You. Inform me."

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