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year 5, quarter 3
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The name grew sweeter with every iteration. Somnus. At his mercy. Somnus. His pulse fluttering beneath his grip. Somnus. Shivering as he shunned the light of the sun. Oh how Ardyn longed to see it! He longed to watch every, joyful second of his brother’s suffering! He’d been caught by surprise at the sudden reunion, but he thought it had gone swimmingly.
Now he was plagued by the very corruption he spurned. Oh my. The irony rolled like honey on his tongue.
But not all could be to his desire. Should he stay within sight, Somnus would surely notice him eventually, and his disdain would give him strength. No, Ardyn wanted him alone. Alone and hopeless and broken. So while he might have relished the show, he had no choice but to watch from his balcony seat.
”Why hello.” Ardyn’s smile widened as his eyes caught a traveler on the road. He was a merchant, it seemed, walking beside a chocobo-drawn cart laden with hand-crafted wooden idols. There was nothing particularly remarkable about his workman’s clothes or mousy hair. In fact, there was nothing of much interest at all except for one glaring detail.
He came from Provo. The city where Somnus had wandered towards. If there was anyone who knew faces, it was a merchant.
Ardyn made it quick -- one moment lurking unseen in the shadows and the next seizing the man by the throat and lifting him into the air. There was a single cry, a single flash of panic, and Ardyn’s corruption surged into the man like a pressured miasma.
Ardyn was overtaken by visions. A toy rabbit clutched tightly to his chest. A chisel biting into soft wood. A woman, waving goodbye from an apartment doorway. All these flashed before him in a whirlwind of understanding, and in seconds, Ardyn knew everything.
The man’s name was Henry Hamilton. He’d been apprenticed to his father as a carpenter, taking over their meager business after a famine fifteen years ago. He’d married a woman named Marie, but felt trapped in his mundane life.
And then that life ended. Or his human life at least.
The man burst into twisted shadows, and Ardyn felt his fist tighten around the empty space. He sighed. ”A pity.” Henry Hamilton had not caught sight of Somnus. ”Well, there’s always the next one, I suppose.” He looked to the moon, squinting in its light.
There was always another merchant traveling these roads alone. There was always another soldier, vagrant, or flower-seller who wouldn’t be missed. And Ardyn would not rest until he saw his brother’s eyes once more.
Who watches the watcher, eh? After his run in with royalty, well, it might not hurt to see what such a man does. Ambitious, arrogant beyond measure, and as cuddly as a cactus. Men like him had always existed throughout the passing of eons. In his more active days, he would have simply taken the man by the hand and gave him the tools to achieve his dreams. Despite what many thought of him, Hades very rarely got his hands dirty. No, he was more content to simply sow the seeds and let man do the rest of the work for him. A thousand thousand lifetimes had given him a generally good read on how they would act. Rarely was it ever for the benefit of man. Rather, they worked only to ensure their own legacy, secure their own power, and at times, simply follow their whims. The ephemerality of their existence drove their actions. And sometimes, Hades would pick someone and watch. By their actions would the worth of man in its current state be judged. In a world of heroes, that should be easy.
Unfortunately for Zephon, the one to bumble into his office that day was Somnus, who was being pursued by Ardyn. So they would be what he used for man's litmus test here.
And, well, Ardyn was failing spectacularly. Hades was one to observe and little more. Still, even he abhorred watching the man with the fashion sense of an indecisive child go around simply devouring anything in his way. So, when he saw the man grab the merchant, he couldn't help but begin speaking to himself, as he was wont to do. "Come now, do something other than..." And then he got eaten, and Hades could only give a beleaguered sigh at the development. "... Of course." Pettiness. Pure pettiness. This man was simply acting with no larger picture in mind.
Curling his gloved hand into a fist as he raised it, he rapped his knuckles softly against his cheek before leaning into his hand. "Still, repeated observation has confirmed some of my theories." Namely, this disease, of sorts, that Hades had concluded it was, wasn't all that dissimilar to the darkness Igeyohrm had flooded the Thirteenth Shard with. A world of eternal night and unending monsters. But whether it could be used for that purpose, "Buuut, some remain to be seen." Perhaps a closer look would be warranted? He'd be lying if he claimed this man didn't pique his scientific curiosity.
What this man displayed was nothing sort of fascinating. The world of souls was vibrant and colorful, and it took a keen eye to see the truth. A common mistake one new to this beautiful world would be to assume that brightness meant goodness, when it more meant their affiliation. The one that visited his office had not struck him as the heroic type, but his soul was blindingly brilliant all the same, attached strongly to the light. In fact, his soul was so blindingly bright he could likely use what Hades considered the counterpoint to this disease.
Ah, to be rambling again.
The earlier point was that souls tended to be one large part. Oh, they could be sundered and eventually rejoined, but even in that state, the soul tended to remain solid, as if one entity. This was not the case for the man he'd been observing. A patchwork abomination. It was as if every being this man consumed, he simply stapled onto his soul and said "good enough." It was less a complete soul (though he had no doubt the original man's soul was whole, behind all the... additions), and more something crudely stitched together that, when push came to shove, simply didn't have the durability one solid soul would have.
But again, a closer look would be warranted, and so, with a simple flash of darkness, Hades came down from his perch, and simply waited ahead on the side of the road, thumb stuck out. He had contemplated casting aside the imperial regalia he usually wore for this, but he doubted it would make much difference in the end. A simple chance to observe, interact, and leave. If all this man had was darkness, then it meant little to the Architect.
Ardyn couldn’t tell what exactly or even how he knew it. There was simply a change of wind, a strange sense in the back of his corrupted mind, a disturbance in the dark. He paused, uncertain for a moment before turning to consider his surroundings.
And in a flash, there was a man.
Not a flash per say for there was no light. Merely a gathering of darkness that wisped away in an instant. Ardyn tilted his head at the strange man before him. He was clad in a black coat embroidered with fur and gold and red garnish that layered together in bulk. His hair was a short, coifed black with a single white streak along his bangs. What most caught Ardyn’s attention, however, were his eyes. They seemed somehow sunken and lined with black.
Had he warped from the darkness? How very interesting…
”Now you’re a face I haven’t seen.” Ardyn paced closer, eyes sharp with curiosity. It was almost like looking into a warped mirror. The dress, the hair, the eyes, and most importantly that strange sense of something wrong.What powers did he possess? Was he too a creature of the night?
”I shan’t ask as to your origin nor as to your power. We must keep our secrets, mustn’t we?” He laughed to himself, shaking his head before splaying out his hands to either side. ”Now your intentions, well, call me intrigued.”
Ardyn looked deep into those hollowed eyes. Yellow. Another daemon perhaps? But how could that be? The Astrals worked in mysterious ways…
Now that he got a much closer look to the daemonic man devouring all in his path... Hades couldn't help but wonder just what the hell this guy was wearing. It was as if this man cared nothing for his motley appearance and threw on whatever he could get his hands on. But it was the language, the guarded words, the attempt to make him look oh so bigger. He saw it, he saw how immediately the guard went up. He must have been losing his touch here, in this world. Few ever considered him threatening, at least not in his form as Solus zos Galvus. Why, his dear grandson even made it a point to shoot him on occasion. A waste of time and effort for the both of them, but he supposed it made Varis feel better. What was that buffoon even up to?
His soul, now that he was closer, he was able to better study and examine it as his eyes trailed the man. However, he wasn't looking at him, but rather looking into him. Yes, the amount this man held close to his soul was larger than he had imagined. To put it into scale... perhaps he would equate it to the light that Alexander had once held within him. And yet he did not crumble beneath the weight. But was that a result of this man's own power? Or was it how the soul was held together? As much of an abomination as it was, there was a fascinating factor about it.
The monster made the terms clear, and what he said also implied what was left unsaid, he would not ask, but; I expect the same in return. A simple courtesy, he supposed. He'd already had plenty of information, even if it didn't exactly come down to the where or the how. That still left the who, the what, and the why. Still, the first question had been asked. A roundabout one. See, getting answers from Hades was easy; ask shrewd questions, get honest answers. Ask roundabout questions, get roundabout answers. "It's hard not to." He responded as he lifted his arms up, stretching, taking in the lovely night air with a sharp inhale. Fingers clasped together as he pressed outword, with some slight cracking sounds following. "I've always been fond of my naps. I'm a natural night owl, you know." He could exist in the day, but he preferred the night. It was only the blindingly bright light that bothered him.
Hades posture changes as he lazily hunched over. "But the night can be oh so quiet and lonely, that one tends to notice when another is about." Of course, the herd was being thinned. Who could be doing such a thing? Such mysteries. "Some merchants, though they seem to vanish just as quickly. I'd be careful, if I were you. I doubt many of them are reconsidering their life's choices mid-journey, and monsters do prowl the roads." Of course, they both knew who the monster in question for all of this was. It was just, if this man wished to play coy, then Hades would indulge him, and even stay to the conditions set forward; he would not ask of the where and the how, as implicitly requested.
But he had no problem in meeting the man's gaze with his own, staring into that abyss as his lips curled into a smirk. Yet he did not just see amber, but the patchwork that was his soul, in all its crude handiwork. No, he did not fear the darkness. How long had he spent in it? Eons passed, civilizations rose and fall, and the very face of the world changed time and again. Even in the beginning, when his world was whole, did he find comfort in it. Darkness was active, not malevolent. In truth, it wasn't even inherently more powerful than the light. Many just flocked to it because it was quicker, easier, more seductive. When one knew the breadth of the darkness, and the glory and beauty it could create, then one had no cause to fear it.
"Now then, I've answered your question, I suppose I can ask the same; why are you wandering these roads?" The man that wander ahead could wait for the moment. Plus, intentions were fair game, were they not?
I am interested to see what they make of each other
I'm an impatient traveler ready to turn ship.
This man was not afraid. Despite the dark, despite Ardyn’s corruption, despite whatever he had seen, he was as casual as Ardyn himself. Which of course left Ardyn slightly less casual. He knew nothing of this new reality in which the Astrals had placed him, and he knew less as to their methods, but as the man cracked his arms over his head, proclaiming himself a creature of the night, Ardyn couldn’t rid himself of a strange inkling…
This man was like him. What an odd twist of fate.
The man lowered his arms, slouching over lazily. ”But the night can be oh so quiet and lonely that one tends to notice when others about.” Something mysterious lit his eyes. ”Some merchants though, they seem to vanish just as quickly. I’d be careful if I were you. I doubt many of them are reconsidering their life’s choices mid-journey, and monsters do prowl the road.”
”Oh dear. Yes, I’d quite say so.” Ardyn chuckled to himself. ”One never knows what might be lurking in the dark.” Like the two of them. And how did this man come into existence, he wondered? Was it a curse of the Astrals -- perhaps the work of another time? Or perhaps Ardyn had a counterpart on some different plane of reality. Either way, he knew one of similar make when he saw them. Even if he had never seen such a thing before.
The man smirked and met his eye without wavering. Yellow on yellow. Amber on inhuman gold. Ardyn smiled back innocently. What did this kindred soul think of him? Ardyn couldn’t say.
”Now then. I’ve answered your question, I suppose I can ask the same; why are you wandering these roads?”
Ardyn hummed. Now that was a fair question, wasn’t it? And one he mustn’t keep to himself. Still, if the man thought to dance about the truth then he had no qualms in doing the same. It was his specialty, after all.
”Fancied a midnight stroll, I suppose.” He clicked his tongue, pacing around the man with his head tilted thoughtfully towards the sky. ”Such a lovely night. Legends speak of creatures of darkness walk beneath the full moon. Of course, in my time they took to walking the whole of Eos.” He chuckled to himself. Ah yes, and what a splendid time it had been.
And what the man said confirmed one theory, at least. A world covered in monsters of darkness. The rest, he could put together on his own, and he tipped his hand just a little further. "Ah, a Flood of Darkness." He gave the phenomena a name. Unending night and a world of daemons, or voidsent, as most called them in his world. "A land overrun with monsters, cloaked in eternal night." Yes, like the man before him, Hades was all too acquainted with the possibilities of the dark, not just in its destructive form, but also its' beautifull creative form. Light was passive, stillness, and it was rather telling that at least one of the Warriors of Light would readily admit that a Flood of Light was far worse than a Flood of Darkness.
It didn't answer his question, and he had the advantage that his question was a shrewd one. There was a roundabout answer, and then there was just dodging! Unfair, unfair. So he shrug, and shook his head with a scoff. Oh, well. Still, Hades couldn't help but give an amused smirk at the question. "If I recall, you said you would ask nothing regarding my origin, no? Oh, well. I suppose it matters little. I am a man of no consequence, after all, and my origin is irrelevant." And here, he wasn't of any consequence. He had no grand role, no grand stakes. Hades had no real impact in this new world. Neither did that regal buffoon in his dating office, but Somnus seemed to be in denial there.
"In the end, that answer depends on one's definition of a god, you know." That changed from person to person. To the Beastmen of the Source, to King Thordan, to the Ancients themselves, that definition changed. "The immaculate perfection that is the divine as some would see? Or those who are simply powerful? If you have the arrogance of a god, and the power to back it up, who's to say you are not a god?" The second was Thordan's reasoning. He was divine, and he would smite any who disagreed.
Now, how to phrase this without saying "we created them." Or at least, Zodiark and Hydaelyn. Memories of the Final Days flashed in his memory, tearing that spiritual wound open anew, and he once again felt that great burden upon his shoulders as it threatened to crush him, if only for a moment. "But as I define them, yes." Some of the story, but not all of it, that was the best approach. "In my world, they are regularly called by their followers, draining the land of its aether. It's such a common issue that adventurers called Warriors of Light regularly hunt them and strike them down." Of course, the Ascians regularly spurred the summonings. Hades thought for a moment, and wondered how many of the Warriors of Light were in this world. He knew Alexander was, and he was most likely not revealing that he was a Warrior of Light or a Warrior of Darkness. No, he was ambitious, but he always enjoyed the challenge of starting from the bottom.
As for his question, well, gods of another world, and all that. "My turn, I believe, and since you have broken your own rule, I shall do the same. What is your history with the gods, that you would take such interest in mine?" In short, why? He was quickly realizing however, that he didn't really need to keep much guarded from this man in terms of information. A petty monster who would say what they pleased regardless of truth? He likely had no allies, none to stand besides him. Even if Hades told him everything, this man seemed like the type to be doubted purely on character alone.
The man smirked. ”If I recall, you said you would ask nothing regarding my origin, no? Oh, well. I suppose it matters little. I am a man of no consequence, after all, and my origin is irrelevant."
Ardyn paused, eyebrows twitching into a furrow. Was this man using his own words against him? Yes, he wore the same curse, the same demeanor, the same choice of words. Ardyn was more than used to learning of men from the shadows, taking their memories by force or merely lurking in the darkness where he could watch with a devil’s interest. Did this man somehow know him? If so then where exactly had he been lurking?
The strange man considered his question though without any real care. He seemed like someone who had long passed the point that he could be fazed by anything at all.
”In the end, that answer depends on one's definition of a god, you know.” His eyes glinted with something between amusement and exasperation. ”The immaculate perfection that is the divine as some would see? Or those who are simply powerful? If you have the arrogance of a god, and the power to back it up, who's to say you are not a god?”
While Ardyn quite enjoyed discussions of the philosophical, to that he would have to argue a short and definitive ’No.’ Had this man somehow missed the power of the Astrals? Ardyn studied him more carefully. He knew that Eos had long since passed him by, but how could someone of such similar power come from any other origin? Did he mean to say that he’d somehow ascended to the point of divinity? Even Ardyn had never gone that far.
”They are the masters of creation and destruction,” he said. ”Those that toy with humanity from on high.”
Was that really his own definition? What was it that made an Astral, now that he thought of it? He’d never really considered it before.
The stranger, it seemed, had a definition of his own.
”They hunt the gods?” Ardyn gave him a strange look. They were not gods then, really. Nothing more than their corporeal forms at best. Even then, the thought was ludicrous. ”How...interesting.”
He couldn’t tell whether he himself was being toyed with or not.
"My turn, I believe, and since you have broken your own rule, I shall do the same. What is your history with the gods, that you would take such interest in mine?"
”Ah.” It was not something that Ardyn preferred to speak of, not because it brought him pain but because he rather liked his shroud of mystery. He was at any time a man, a villain, or a monster. Yet something compelled him to speak all the same. His own curiosity, he supposed.
”It’s been a rather unfortunate experience, I’m afraid.” He strolled past the man, choosing to keep his back turned as he considered the night sky. ”I was a man molded by the gods, predestined to become their harbinger of endless night. Their Chosen and their sacrifice. Quite the distasteful business, I assure you.”
He turned to him, eyes gleaming with a dark interest. ”And so I wonder. Who are you to carry this self-same curse. Are you not banished to darkness as I am?” How personal, and yet he supposed it was too late to temper himself now? He had never been one for restraint. ”We are of similar kind.”
They disagreed on gods, then. Most were selfish, the primals cared only for their own power, even Zodiark was not entirely immune to this. But Zodiark was still mighty and magnificent. He who had saved their star from total annihilation. Regardless of tempering, regardless of His desires, Zodiark had saved them all, and for that, Hades would forever owe Him, even if that meant following His decrees and doing His will. But he let the man talk, his mood sinking ever so slightly the more he spoke. A man who was used as a puppet, who clearly did not take to such a role kindly. He'd heard the story, and had played the role of puppetmaster himself. He knew completely how those who were used as pawns, especially the ambitious ones, tended to take such a role.
Of similar kind. There it was was. Hades's eyes closed at the question, and when he opened them, there was a harsh coldness in those amber eyes. "You and I are not the same. We both align with our affinities, and our personalities on the surface, but that is where it ends." They both leaned towards the dark, and perhaps simply watching them, one could assume that they had the same personalities, but that was it. Their motives, their desires, their true feelings. The flippancy only came about because it was a way to remember his dear Hythlodaeus. To keep his memory alive. But beneath it all, they were different. Fundamentally broken perhaps, but one chose to cast away their humanity, while the other kept it, agreeing to take on the burden of eons.
His body twisted to face the man entirely. "I chose the darkness. To save my people, I would pay any price." He would pay it again and again. It was unfortunate how it had all turned out, but he would make the same choice. The alternative had been the annihilation of his star and his people, no price was too high. Even then, this man's talk of the darkness belied no small ignorance. "But that also assumes that darkness is inherently bad. It is not. All it is, is Light's other half. Light can be just as destructive. And if anything, darkness can be used as a beautiful force of creation." In Amaurot both light and darkness were used and revered. Neither was favored over the other. The balance only tipped with Zodiark. "But I'm not a monster. Not like you."
There was a small grumble as he shrugged. "Don't misunderstand. You were almost certainly reviled, used and then cast aside, when what your god should have told you is 'well done, good and faithful servant. Enter into the joy of your master.'" Any servant of a god who performed their duties admirably should have been told so. He would acknowledge that this man, were he telling the truth (and he had no reason not to believe so), got screwed. There was no two ways about that. "For that, I pity you. Truly." But that didn't excuse him from what came after.
He pointed a finger at the man. A single finger. "But no gods bind you in this world. I myself have no longer been able to hear the call of my god. He has no influence here, and my mind is entirely my own. The same certainly applies to you. You found yourself in this world, free from any obligations. Your will your own, with only your ability to guide you. And don't say you don't have any. Those who play the role of villain in a god's puppet show are always of exemplary ability." After all, he made sure the pawns he used were of extraordinary talent; no manipulator would ever use those who brought little worth to their scheme. "All that talent, and you chose to just eat anyone in your path like a mindless beast. That's what makes you a monster."
His voice took on a more venomous tone. "You're a monster and it's entirely your choice." Oh yes, they may have been similar on the surface, but this man, he found to be more like his great grandson, Zenos. A monster who simply looked for blood, caring not from where it flowed, all to satisfy his own violent desires. He still kept that finger pointed at Ardyn, "You asked who I am, rather than who I was. It's fair, who I was in my world is irrelevant here. I am Galvus, Matchmaker and owner of Galvus's Dating Service. You, however, had a singular gift, one that you could use to cultivate the health of this star, and you've squandered it." Squandered indeed. The warning signs were all there.
And that cold venom was replaced with the smirk, the patchwork abomination of this man's soul all too visible as he felt himself zero in on it. It made him unique even amongst all the unique shades and hues of the world. "Best I handle it, then. I can think of several, more productive uses of the darkness of an entire star." And he snapped his fingers. And just like that, the assault began, as he began to tear at those patchwork seams, and try to rip that scourge out of him. It would be interesting to see how this beast would take being the hunted for once.
”Oh dear.” It seemed the man thought him a monster. It was, of course, an accurate assessment. ’You and I are not the same.’ No, he supposed not. No matter their power, no matter their affinity to the dark, it seemed he had little interest in spreading havoc and misery. Ardyn hummed, listening politely as the man grew increasingly agitated. Oh, he was very interested in making their exact differences abundantly clear. And his damnations as well.
’But no gods bind you in this world.’ How very true, but it had never really been about the bindings of the gods, had it? If anything, they bound him in his immortality. They had twisted him beyond repair, and here he stood, a product of their making. Could he have turned around in this new world that was not Eos? Could he have used his power for the light instead? Well...not the light, certainly, but for the good of mankind?
No. That had never truly been an option for him. No matter the world, no matter the proximity to the gods, he was to be reviled for he was a creature of hatred and corruption. He knew his heart and he knew it well. He could never be pacified. Not until he found his rightful death that was.
And then the man’s expression changed. It was no longer scornful, but venomous in a spiteful way that Ardyn knew all too well. ”Best I handle it then,” he said. ”I can think of several more productive uses of the darkness of an entire star.”
Ardyn’s eyebrows raised. ”Oh?” And how exactly did he plan to take it from him? It wasn’t as though he had been gifted with-
He snapped his fingers. Ardyn shouted in surprise. It was as though his darkness churned within him. He felt it rip, tear, pull. His humanity broke as he felt it ooze from his eyes, his lips, his pale, ghastly skin. He felt himself snarl like a wounded animal.
And then his sword was in his hand.
In a flick of his wrist, he was gone, replaced only by a flash of red light. His sword was aimed for the man’s chest, and Ardyn followed it, grabbing it from its resting place and slashing with the skill of the king he had been born to become.
The man had been right about one thing. Ardyn was a monster. With his last vestiges of humanity stripped away, he was more than happy to demonstrate.
Well, that was quite the reaction, wasn't it? Of course, it likely would have been rather violent, but to simply say to hell with it and go full ham. Well, mostly people had the good graces to build it up, Rising Action and all that. He was heading straight into the climax! Though one could take it as a compliment. If nothing else, it meant that this lad wasn't messing around and considered Hades to be an actual threat. That was nice! What wasn't nice was that twisted, mutated sword headed right for him. Oh he could get diced up, die, and reappear. But... that was a trump card best saved for a better moment, don't you think?
So up the barrier went as the Mutated Rakshasa Blade slammed into it. He had to give the man credit, he could very easily feel it straining under the pressure of his blows. Alisaie at her best could do nothing, and Thancred could push, but this was, well this was different. He could only stare at Ardyn for a moment, what a wretched beast he'd become. In truth, perhaps this was more an act of mercy than anything. Such a rabid beast utterly eclipsed and devoured by his own pettiness and hatred. A long finger traced down Hades's face as the barrier strained, a shining red glyph formed over his features. If this man wished to unleash his full potential, he could understand that, at least.
Of course, despite the man's appearance, it'd been a simple slash and slice. Shall he answer with a most simple spell, then? "O' Mournful Voice of Creation! Weep for your wayward son!" The aether gathered in front of him for but a moment before the End of Days came straight for Ardyn before Hades vanished, reappearing only a few feet away. A wave of pure energy that splintered even rock, scarring the land and leaving colors of black and bright orange in its wake. And yet at the same time a plan was brewing; such a radical transformation gave him an idea, and so he continued to pull and rip at those seams that made up the man's crude additions. He just needed to push, push, push...
