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year 5, quarter 3
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Amidst the cataclysmic turmoil of the ultimate confrontation, where the Astrals waged war against Bahamut stood Gentiana. Her presence, once shrouded in the serenity of a silent envoy, now stirred with a tempest of defiance. No longer could she bear the weight of passive observation. Her essence intertwined with the plight of mortals. She was the vessel and voice of Shiva and yet their souls were entwined, a harmonious blend of divine will and icy resolve.
With the Glacian’s frost coursing through her veins, Gentiana transcended her role, embodying the wrath and grace of the Ice Goddess. She was ready to cast aside the chains of destiny, to wield her chilling might against the impending doom. As the battle reached its climax, the cosmos itself seemed to shudder, a cosmic anomaly ripping through the veil of time and space. This rift, a gaping wound in the fabric of existence, emanated a voracious pull, an abyssal force that sought to devour essence and being alike. The pain it inflicted was uncomprehendable to life as it was a maelstrom of agony that clawed at the very fibers of Gentiana’s celestial form.
The journey through this dimensional tear was tumultuous, a maddening spiral through the void that sapped her consciousness and gnawed at her divine powers. Cast into the unknown realm of Zephon, her form — once a radiant beacon of Shiva’s wintry splendor began to wane, her powers diminishing as if almost severed from her spirit.
Her descent was a spectacle of cosmic proportions, her body streaking across the sky like a meteor, trailing a veil of ice that shimmered against the desert backdrop before dissolving into nothingness. With an impact that echoed like the roar of thunder, she plummeted into the dunes of Reikinto Sands, her arrival etching a crater in the sands. The denizens of this foreign land, from nomadic travelers to the wary caravans from Aljana, beheld the spectacle with a mixture of fear and awe. There amidst the shifting sands lay Gentiana, her form still and silent, a fallen deity whose fate was now inexorably linked to the world of Zephon and its inhabitants.
Post by Ardyn Izunia on Jun 4, 2024 7:36:24 GMT -6
The sun wanes and the sands simmer. From his emergence in Zephon to the events that have led him to now, Ardyn has set his sights on the nearest city — Aljana. While he is no stranger to scorching heat, anywhere beyond the seas of yellow was preferable, lest he languish alongside the decadent structures swallowed by the very sands he walks upon. Besides, the midnight curtain pulled over the region of Reikinto was rather mesmerising this evening. Each wayward star yonder the skies was much better company, at least in this terrain.
As if to complement his preference, one of those celestial bodies danced through the sky… at an alarmingly close proximity. Ambered pools followed closely as it was brought further into a hastened descent. The fall was near instantaneous and the impact quaked the sands for a moment. But something was amiss; stars are oft burning with an unmatched fervour and yet this one was bereft of such heat… in fact, it was utterly devoid of it. What soon crept upon him was a chill, one most unbecoming of a star, if it is a star.
Be still thine curiosity. It almost jumped out of Ardyn’s skin had he lacked a firmer rein on it. Not that he’d deny it, of course, for this was quite the momentous event! Only a fool would pass up that immovable question — what was it that fell? To that end, a small twist of the heels and his ebon raiment shifted in accordance as the starscourge began walking in the direction the ‘star’ fell towards.
By the time he made it to the crater, the atmosphere around his body grew heavily stagnant in ire; his hands were clenched and he carried an expression one could only describe as wickedly delighted. As Ardyn had surmised, it was no star that fell into the sands of Reikinto… but never in his wildest dreams would he expect it to be not just a person who emerged here like he did, but one of the very gods he had so previously shunned — Shiva, or in this form she assumed, Gentiana. His eyes lit up like wildfire and the toothy smile could barely contain the underlying cesspool of anguish. “Well,” he mused, easing himself into the crater with steadied steps as a flurry of roseate crystals swirl around his hand to form his sword of yore before adding, “— what wonders. To have the Glacian here, laid before me with naught but faint whispers of a breath. Oh, how easy it would be to snuff that out.” For the astral’s sake, she would do well to come to, otherwise that slumber shall be an eternal one.
Little by little, Gentiana began to regain consciousness. The shuffling of sand and the approach of deliberate footsteps penetrated the haze of her mind, signaling the presence of another. Though the surroundings were unfamiliar, the aura of malevolence was unmistakable. Ardyn Izunia stood before her — grim reminder of the peril she now faced.
As she lay in the crater formed by her impact, the scorching heat of the desert had given way to an unexpected chill. Her descent had wrought a miraculous change in the landscape, the searing heat replaced by a frigid calm. Snowflakes, ephemeral and delicate, drifted downward, shimmering like tiny stars against the golden sands. The temperature dropped sharply. Creating a surreal scene where winter touched the heart of the desert.
With great effort, Gentiana’s eyes fluttered open. Her vision was initially blurred, but gradually, the world around her came into focus. She took in the sight of Ardyn, his form dark and imposing against the backdrop of the snow-dusted dunes. Despite the searing pain that coursed through her body, she managed to form a faint, serene smile upon her lips. Her breath came in shallow, ragged gasps as she pushed herself to a sitting position. Each movement was a struggle, her limbs heavy and unresponsive, yet she refused to succumb to the weakness that threatened to overwhelm her. The air around her shimmered with an ethereal glow, the remnants of her icy power clinging to her like a protective shroud.
Gentiana’s eyes, a deep and tranquil pair, met Ardyn’s gaze with a calm defiance. Though diminished, she radiated an aura of unyielding strength. a testament to her divine nature. The pain she felt was excruciating, but she bore it with grace, her expression betraying nothing of the agony that wracked her body.
“Ardyn Izunia,” she spoke, her voice soft yet resolute, “even here, your shadow looms.”
She drew upon the remnants of her power summoning a delicate barrier of ice around her. The ice sparkled in the desert twilight, a beautiful and fragile testament to her enduring will. Each snowflake that fell seemed to carry a piece of her resolve, a reminder that even in the face of darkness, she would not bow easily.
“Tell me,” she continued, her gaze unwavering, “what brings you to this desolate place? Have you not wrought enough havoc upon the world of Eos that you must now bring your blight to this one as well?”
Her tone was calm, yet beneath it lay a current of challenge. Gentiana, the vessel of Shiva, was determined to stand against the encroaching darkness, no matter the cost. The air around her grew colder still, a testament to her unyielding spirit and the icy resolve that coursed through her veins.
Post by Ardyn Izunia on Jun 9, 2024 20:42:40 GMT -6
Ardyn’s indignation was ever palpable, authoring the grip on his sword to tighten up. However, beyond that, beyond the clear provocations Shiva mustered to goad him on, something stayed his hand for a time. What could possibly forestall his role as her executioner? Even in the presence of a transgressor such as her — a ‘god’ that condemned Eos to ruin because a covetous brother managed to beguile such entities, the starscourge refrained. In truth, while he wanted nothing more than to shatter that glacial frame, Ardyn’s perception remained as cunning as ever, and oh, did he notice a few peculiars.
The heft of a weary strain weighing her body down, and how each breath was a mite ragged. Not only that, but why the bulwark of ice when she’s capable of encasing him in an icy tomb with but a touch of her finger? In fact, the more he looked upon her slumped body, the more those ambered hues gleaned something. Could it be..? Shiva’s descent has all but spent what powers the light availed her with. This is the exhaustion a human, or something near human enough, would suffer.
And all this was surmised in the span of that witty retort, ergo why there was nil change in his expression.
Albeit this delightful revelation, his wariness hadn’t abated and the grip on his sword remained firm. But that didn’t absolve this moment of a much needed comment, as evident when Ardyn said through an eager smile, “Oh, how it pains me to expose the crack in your omniscience.” Ever the sardonic trickster, Ardyn raised his sword hand, aiming the vermilion steel her way whilst the other hand would lift and motion in gesture whilst he continued. “It was not by my hand that I emerged in this new realm. I wish it were— oh, the delight I would bask in, to show you Astrals that your deceitful ways of orchestrating events were all for naught. And yet I speak truthfully, something you and your pompous kin sorely lack in being able to do.”
There are fates worse than death. Perhaps Shiva was enduring it now; being powerless against her greatest adversary. And to think… all those millennia ago, it could have been avoided. Tragic irony, or poetic justice?
“Though it seems you were less fortunate. Yes, I see even those minute details you try to mask. A shoddy attempt, in my humble opinion. But I must say… the crystal’s light has grown awfully dim, indeed. Perhaps the great astrals themselves are nothing more than gilded tools for that pompous Blademaster, as well.”
Gentiana’s eyes, shimmering like frost-kissed sapphires drained from the usual olive greens, remained fixed on Ardyn. The icy barrier around her glimmered faintly, its delicate structure a testament to her dwindling power. She absorbed his venomous words, each syllable a sharp icicle piercing the air between them. Yet, she remained composed, drawing from the deep well of her celestial resolve.
“Ardyn Izunia,” she began, her voice a serene whisper carried on the frigid wind, “bitterness is a storm that knows no bounds. Manipulation is spoken of, yet it is chaos and suffering that is reveled in. The true essence of the Astrals and their eternal purpose remains misunderstood.”
Gentiana drew a breath, the air around her crackling with an ethereal chill. The pain that lanced through her was a relentless reminder of her frailty, but she would not let it define her. The cold around her intensified subtly like a spectral veil of frost weaving itself through the air.
“The light of the Astrals may dim, but it does not vanish,” she continued, her eyes glowing with an indomitable spirit. “Essence endures, even in the face of despair. Strength is found in moments of vulnerability, for it is in those moments that true power reveals itself. A path of darkness and vengeance may be chosen, but it is the light that must be protected and nurtured, no matter how faint it becomes.”
With deliberate, graceful movements, Gentiana began to rise. The ice crystals around her cracked and shattered, cascading down like tiny, fragile stars. She stood tall and resolute, despite the weariness that clung to her like a shadow.
“Truths and lies, but the dark one’s words are often tainted by hatred,” she said, her tone steady and unwavering. “Understanding suffering is claimed, yet its creation is evident. Actions fueled by revenge lack the essence of justice.”
As she took a step forward, her presence seemed to command the very air around them. The cold deepened, the frigid wind swirling with renewed vigor. Snowflakes began to dance around them, caught in an invisible maelstrom, each one a crystalline testament to her enduring will.
“Powerlessness may be perceived now, but know this .. the spirit of the Glacian is not so easily extinguished,” she declared, her voice gaining strength with each word. “Endurance is the path chosen, standing firm against the embodiment of darkness.”
Gentiana extended her hand, and from the ether, a single, intricate snowflake materialized on her palm. Its delicate design caught the last rays of the setting sun, casting prismatic glimmers across the desolate sands. It was a symbol of her unyielding spirit, a fragment of hope amidst the desolation.
“Behold this, Ardyn,” she said softly, her gaze piercing through the twilight. “This is the light that cannot be extinguished, the hope that endures even in the darkest of times. Revel in a moment of triumph, but remember this: the light will always find a way to pierce the shadows, no matter how deep they may be.”
Instead of continuing her admonishments, Gentiana let the delicate snowflake she created dissolve into the winds. She then extended a hand towards Ardyn, a gesture of unexpected sincerity.
“Loyalty to Eos and Bahamut may have been misplaced,” she murmured, her voice tinged with genuine regret. “Before the descent into this world, the true intentions of Bahamut were finally revealed. Silence was maintained for too long, observing without question.”
Her gaze softened, a flicker of vulnerability crossing her serene features. “Inconsistencies in Bahamut’s decisions were observed, and casting one into the darkness was a grievous error, one that should never have occurred. For that, a deep sorrow is felt.”
Her words hung in the air, carried on the icy breeze that swirled around them. The sincerity in her apology was undeniable, a stark contrast to the animosity that had long defined their interactions. In this moment, Gentiana offered not just words, but an olive branch, acknowledging past wrongs in a bid for a sliver of reconciliation.
Post by Ardyn Izunia on Jun 20, 2024 22:20:09 GMT -6
Throughout this display of diminished power, the scourge of Eos remained quiet, pickled with delight to watch a god try (and fail) to elicit fear or hesitation from the man. They both knew the severity, or rather, the sheer onslaught that awaited the Astral if Ardyn so desired it. But as the snowflakes fell and melted into the sand beneath them, the quiet was choked out by a deafening silence when she offered her hand. At first, there was curiosity, but that too was drowned by the tempest of indignation. Was this attempt to consolidate sympathy some sick joke? The floodgates of anger this transgressor set forth screwed his expression; a twitch of the brow and shift of his lip, Ardyn had to restrain the near snarl that ruptured forth.
If Gentiana was looking for a swift death, she was doing a damn good job working towards it.
There was no outburst, no smacking her hand away either. As much as he wanted to, as much as his anger was just, it would be wasted on the likes of her. Instead, Ardyn retreats a few steps before turning his back to her. In no world, whether it be this one or their own would he give her the benefit of getting under his skin. So what will he resort to? A quiet acquiescence? Or perhaps a bitter yet acknowledging stroke of empathy? No. A thousand curses no.
“Is that how it is…” Hasty was the chuckle that followed when Ardyn began turning back to Gentiana, a chuckle that grew in both spite and amusement until it became a hearty laugh— rife with contempt for her brazen gesture. Once it subsided, his tone, still twinged with amusement, voiced the predicament as it appeared to be. “You Astrals are a different breed of cowardice. You extend your hand only because that gilded bastard discarded you from his.” Since the proverbial knife was there, Ardyn decided to twist it some more. “And how quaint, that you now decide to speak up as if the bravado were always there when in truth, the silence would be ceaseless if that bladekeeper were here.” Ardyn laughed again, raising his hands in gesture before her damaged visage. “You gods, who tug and pull the threads of fate. Why, you’re no different than humanity— a selfish and fearful bunch that will happily throw whoever they need to into the lion’s den in self preservation.”
His next comment came with intent tenfold, evident when his lips curl in a wicked smirk and eyes as sharp as daggers. “That is what you did to your beloved Ifrit, after all. He remembered which side you took.” Ardyn and the Infernian had that much in common, but now his voice raised with a mite anger as he spat, “So after all that— after two millennia of torment, you expect me to spare you sympathy?! Ages of darkness and you think yourself worthy of forgiveness?!”
Ardyn’s words cut deep, their venomous edge piercing through the cold veneer Gentiana had maintained. She understood the severity of the position the Astrals had placed Ardyn in and the former Glacian sought neither redemption nor sympathy. His accusations were steeped in bitterness and pain as it resonated with an undeniable truth that Gentiana could not ignore.
“Ardyn Izunia,” she began keeping her voice steady despite the turmoil within, “sympathy is not expected. There is no deserving of it here. Awareness of the regret felt for the involvement in Bahamut’s plan is all that is sought.”
The mention of Ifrit struck a chord within her. It being a pain more profound than Ardyn could fathom. Ifrit’s betrayal and subsequent fall were wounds that weren’t quite healed .. who’s to say that they ever will be? The guilt gnawed at her as a constant reminder of the price paid for their misguided actions. Yet, perhaps Ifrit, wherever his spirit resided now, watched over her, witnessing the change in her heart. Her past actions, as cold as the icy winds she commanded, were at odds with the warmth she now sought to embrace.
Her eyes remained closed as a single tear traced a delicate path down her cheek. Though the full extent of Ardyn’s pain and suffering remained beyond her understanding, a dawning realization took root within her. The Astrals, once seen as infallible, had indeed fallen far from grace. This newfound awareness — this acknowledgment of their failures, was the first step toward true redemption. Or so she thought at least. Gentiana’s thoughts drifted to the long, silent centuries she had spent as Shiva’s vessel. The decisions made, the silence maintained, and the suffering ignored all weighed heavily upon her soul. She had been a passive observer in the story of their world, a witness to the unfolding tragedy set upon Ardyn, and now that passivity haunted her. In the face of Ardyn’s righteous fury, she could no longer remain silent.
“Every decision made, every silence held, has led to this moment,” she continued, her voice softening. “The Astrals in their supposed wisdom have caused immeasurable pain. For too long, the true intentions and consequences of their actions were obscured. It is only now, in the face of such clarity, that the depth of our failure is truly understood.”
She opened her eyes, meeting Ardyn’s gaze with a look of unguarded vulnerability. “The suffering inflicted upon you, the darkness you were cast into, was not a fate you deserved. The actions taken against you were born of arrogance and misguided judgment. For that, there is profound regret.”
Gentiana’s hand still extended, trembling slightly. The weight of her words, the admission of guilt, and the plea for understanding were all laid bare before Ardyn. She knew that seeking forgiveness was a step too far, but acknowledgment and regret were necessary. The path to redemption, if it existed, began with this moment of truth.
“The pain felt from Ifrit’s betrayal, the sorrow of seeing a beloved fall by one’s own hand, is a burden carried every day,” she confessed, her voice tinged with sorrow. “The decisions made in the past were not just, and the consequences have been far-reaching. But now, with clarity and humility, a new path is sought. One that does not repeat the mistakes of the past.”
Her words hung in the air as a fragile bridge extended towards Ardyn. Gentiana knew that healing the wounds of the past would not be easy, and perhaps it would never be fully achieved. But in this moment she offered her sincerity, her regret, and a small glimmer of hope that even the deepest scars could begin to heal. “In the end, understanding and acknowledgment of our faults is the first step,” she said softly. “The Astrals have fallen, but through awareness and change, there is a hope, however faint, to build better relations for the future. That hope is extended to you, Ardyn, as a gesture of the deepest regret and my promise to strive for a better path.”
Post by Ardyn Izunia on Aug 3, 2024 7:59:09 GMT -6
Their purpose remains misunderstood — Ardyn was viciously intent on mocking that statement before Gentiana’s little display urged a disgusted pity, the kind where you would want to laugh at the desperation, and oh how the snake stayed thy venomous tongue. It truly was a pitiful tableau of events, watching the glacian try so hard to appear as his equal or daresay his better. There was a time when a mere touch turned the scourge into a crumbling mass of ice. But this? Anything meagre attempt henceforth would be a far cry from that touch. And yet she persisted. Perhaps gods can feel fear.
But what blunted his wrath? What could possibly stay his hand from a just and vengeful retribution? His thoughts, or rather, the cobbled amalgamation of his thoughts and that of Shiva’s scorned lover, Ifrit. Before the annals of history were forged, few were privy to the nuanced intricacies of the glacian. One of great importance was her role as emissary. It was a role she treated with the utmost precedence. So much so that she omitted the use of pronouns, something only the keenly aware could discern. To Ardyn, he viewed it as a sickening devotion to the gods and their machinations that Shiva’s role was more important than one’s own self.
That was until he heard the fallen astral address them both so personally.
Though the pyre of rage could still be gleaned in his eyes, the lids widening with reflexive surprise dared rob him — a transient invasion, if you will. “Heretofore, you’ve never addressed anyone, not even yourself.” The unexpected interim was quickly discarded with an exasperated grunt and shake of the head. That anger was still there. Use it. “But I’m afraid the lifetime of misery wrought upon my being will not be the foundation of your penance.” Further disparaging Gentiana, Ardyn denied the physical exchange, much less looked at her hand, lifting and flicking his own in dismissal. Whilst doing that, he had callously said, “A pox upon your sweetened words and handshake,” making sure to emphasise the latter word before turning his back to the god.
In the encroaching silence that followed, Ardyn, still rife with anger, gazed at the starlit sky aloft. This indignation was deep rooted. It had long since supplanted what could have been. And even if a morsel of it remained, he could scarcely imagine ever wanting to let go of it, because it meant letting the Astrals off the hook. Ardyn’s will was set in stone that they needed to pay for their transgressions and yet…
“Answer me this— had you the chance to return to your beloved Ifrit, would you stand alongside him, knowing what awaited you?”
“Would standing beside him have altered the course of fate?” she murmured, her voice was barely louder than the whisper of the wind. “In another time, perhaps .. the choice might have been different.”
Gentiana’s eyes softened, her expression distant as she delved into memories both painful and dear. The flames of Ifrit’s wrath, once so terrifying, had always burned with a passion that matched the cold resolve of the once Glacian. Opposite forces, yet there had been a time when differences harmonized, creating a balance as fragile as it was powerful.
“To return to Ifrit .. to stand beside him once more, even knowing what awaited…” Her voice faultered allowing a long pause to stretch out between them, gathering thoughts as the wind stirred around, carrying with it the scent of distant snow. “Yes. Even in the face of certain doom, no hesitation would have marred that choice. To stand with him, fully aware of the truth of what was to come, would be an honor. one accepted without question.”
Her gaze returned to Ardyn. Her eyes holding a new, deeper understanding. “The bonds shared, even when forged in the fires of betrayal, are not so easily severed. Ifrit’s wrath was justified, and his anger towards those who wronged him is a burden carried still. But if the chance to stand beside him once more, to face the consequences of choices made together were offered, that fate would be embraced.”
The cold around her intensified, as if her very presence absorbed the sorrow and regret flowing through her words. Yet there was a quiet strength, a resolve hardened by the very forces that sought to break her.
“But what of the path chosen by darkened one?” she asked, her voice softer now, more contemplative. “With all the pain endured, and all the anger that has taken root, is there still a desire to continue this cycle of vengeance? Or does a part of the heart long for release, for an end to the endless torment? Would there be a willingness to stand beside those who once wronged, if it meant finding peace?”
Her question was not meant to provoke, but rather to reach out. To understand the depths of suffering endured, and to see if even in this moment of rejection, a glimmer of something more could be found — something that might one day lead them both toward a different fate.
Post by Ardyn Izunia on Sept 1, 2024 5:13:41 GMT -6
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[attr="class","wiingtop1"]ardyn
[attr="class","wiingtop2"]a man of no consequence
[attr="class","wiingtop3"]final fantasy xv
[attr="class","wiingtop4"]I'm afraid you're out of luck.
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Release — a word that left a melancholic taste on his lips. For two millenia, that is all he ever desired, yet the gods were the stubborn membrane between his eternal damnation and a great beyond. He could die, yet release would elude him each time. They would deny him his ascension, deny him his fate and his death was merely an intermission. Release? The word became nothing more than a tease, a jest at Ardyn’s expense.[break][break]
In his opinion, the gods' jokes were never the humourous kind.
[break]
“The roots were once pristine and whole, with ne’er a stem of anger. It was the soil that was rotten, salted by abandonment and betrayal. The gods, rather than cleanse the ground, hastened its poisonous touch through inaction.” The ire in his tone was lessened, mired by exhaustion that oft ensnares him. Ardyn could spit the virulent truth, but to dip his feet into the sordid cesspool of his mind, over and over again… It tired him.[break][break]
This by no means absolves him of his doings; the scourge of Eos acknowledged the machinations that set their world into the eternal night forever stained his hands, of his own volition, no less. But this was a path they authored, the destiny they wished of Ardyn. An unwitting pawn in their cosmic game.[break][break]
Gentiana’s grasp befits her previous station, she spoke so plainly without dwelling into the words themselves. Yet one could argue that she asks these as a child would. A god with the grasp of a child, the notion urged a small chuckle that flittered under his breath.[break][break]
“There is no path, oh Glacian. Not yet, at least. A man of no consequence— that is what I once called myself, a jest.” Slowly did blackened heels turn in the sand, propelling the former chancellor around to meet her gaze once more, that devious grin resurfacing albeit a mite. “But here? I am truly without consequence, you see. Although I am still tethered to that infernal rock, Bahamut can do nothing but tarry in his own anger. A fire with no medium to indulge it.” The smirk grew larger. “Knowing he is tasting but a morsel of what I have endured… perhaps you could say that has staved off my anger.”[break][break]
Amidst his response were gestures differing between grandiose and mild. But with the interim for Shiva to absorb what Ardyn said, he brazenly waved his hand in her direction before stating, “Dare I say, you too may yet make something of yourself. if you have the will to endure what humanity can offer. Not as a god, but as one of us lowly dregs.”
Amidst the cataclysmic turmoil of the ultimate confrontation, where the Astrals waged war against Bahamut stood Gentiana. Her presence, once shrouded in the serenity of a silent envoy, now stirred with a tempest of defiance. No longer could she bear the weight of passive observation. Her essence intertwined with the plight of mortals. She was the vessel and voice of Shiva and yet their souls were entwined, a harmonious blend of divine will and icy resolve.
