Post by The Cryophoenix on Sept 6, 2013 17:37:39 GMT -5
May 12, 23 CLEApproximately 2 months after this thread.
In the depths of the Gelid Vortex, nothing stirred save for the howling winds of the storm itself, forever locked in a frenzy of the lost king’s rage. In time, however, even the great storm continued its inexorable crawl across the Freljord. In the dusky afternoon light filtered through clouds of storm, the last of its winds brushed fingers of loose ice across the rigid rime. A great mound of jagged ice stood sentinel over the site of Anivia’s demise, a silent testament to that final journey she made to protect the Freljord from the evil of the Void.
As the sun peeked through the fringes of cloud for the first time in months, a resounding crack rang out across the desolate fields of ice. With a mighty lurch of the earth, the icy monolith shattered, a great chasm yawning in its place. Another shuddering upheaval of the earth thrust a glacial shelf high into the air, a pure crystalline orb of ice tumbling from fresh maw. The orb pulsed with magical power as the ground continued to tremble, shockwaves rippling outward to reshape the very face of the Freljord.
Post by The Deathsinger on Sept 10, 2013 1:37:37 GMT -5
Amidst the white snow and bluish ice, now trembling in aftershock, a solitary figure stood clad in black and wielding a most uncanny scythe. He did not feel the cold as he floated over the snow, nor did he fear the cataclysm that was surrounding him, the very world itself straining as if under a heavy burden and trembling as if it were about to snap in two. No; he was Death's Herald, Karthus the Undying. Such fears and sensations were for those who still drew breath.
The Lich stopped and knelt on one knee to dust the snow off a most uncanny object. It was a sphere - nay, it was too oddly- shaped for that...Rather, an egg - buried within the snow, the egg itself made of solid ice clear as crystal and pulsating with life energy. Whatever lay within was being force-fed the very life force of the land around it, speeding whatever form of rebirth took place within.
Had Karthus retained any semblance of a face, he would have smiled. He recognized the life within the egg. An offworlder, the immortal Cryophenix. One of two beings that Death has sanctioned to be free of His curse, for now. Karthus stood, sentinel and witness to the rebirth soon to take place. Being forcibly resurrected was never a pleasant process...And, even for one so used to it as Anivia, such a violent resurrection would be all the more painful.
Post by The Cryophoenix on Sept 18, 2013 3:09:36 GMT -5
The as the earth shuddered violently in aftershock, sheets of ice shedding from the exposed glacier’s face around the Deathsinger and the egg he stood over. Even as Karthus reached forth to brush the frost from the egg’s pure surface, a pristine light began to illuminate it from within. The energy of the earth pulsed, erupting from from a thin trickle to an unabated flood of power that demanded life take form. Just as the glacier had crumbled under the earth’s assault, so too did the egg’s face split asunder, light pouring from its depths.
In an instant, the perfectly smooth surface of the egg vanished, consumed by the blossoming of great ice crystals in every direction. Time seemed to stand still as the air itself condensed into the glowing semblance wings and claws. Yet no cry of glory or triumph issued forth as Anivia was thrust back into the world. At no more than half of her body’s original size, the light began to fade, and Anivia let loose a piteous trill of torment. She collapsed under her own weight, wings splaying wide over the broken ice. Devoid of the light of rebirth, twisting veins of silver lifeforce wound their way through the perfectly transparent ice of her body, bespeaking of an intricate grace yet extreme fragility of her very existence. Last to fade was the shimmering white light of her eyes and crest, little more than a ruby tinge to the otherwise clear ice.
She lay prostrate for some time, her entire body shaking with the effort of her slow breaths. Her pain-addled mind failed to grasp at the wrongness of the situation, tormented by both the flashing memories of the void’s corruption, and a overwhelming burn of her incomplete form. Only slowly did she become aware of the figure floating over her. The burning gaze in his skeletal face could belong to only one. Slowly the pieces clicked together, “No… Karthus… Why…” The words rasped out shrill and disconnected between forced breaths. Unable to rise and defend herself, Anivia trembled against the snow in desperate acquiescence.
Post by The Deathsinger on Sept 18, 2013 12:24:26 GMT -5
Karthus ignored the trembling ground as he bore witness to Anivia's glorious rebirth. However, something was not right. The rebirth seemed stunted, as if it had not enough time to grow into it's own body before being thrown back into the world. This was made doubly clear by the cryophenix's apparent weakness and pain as she fell to the ground, barely carrying enough strength to stand.
"Do not strain yourself, Anivia. I know better than most how...Painful rebirth can be, especially such an abrupt one as yours." The lich spoke almost comfortingly as he stared down upon the cryophenix. "Do not think that it was I who hastened your rebirth, for that is not my purpose..." He replied cryptically, pausing a brief moment before resuming his speech.
"It has been said by many that the world will choose guardians to defend itself in times of need. The brackern are all who remain of such guardians, and they themselves area dying people, trapped in hibernation deep beneath Kalamanda. Valoran requires guardians once more...And it seems to have chosen you."
Karthus leveled his scythe towards Anivia, offering what strength he could to help her to her metaphorical feet - a mere trickle compared to the torrent of life energy that still flowed into Anivia from the land around her. "Know that it was the very world around you who summoned you from your regeneration...And I was but a witness to this event." Karthus raised his scythe once the energy transfer was complete. "You have been sanctioned by Death, and are not bound by His laws. Resurrection will still be painful...But know that, as long as Valoran sees fit, Death's hand shall not claim you."
Post by The Cryophoenix on Sept 19, 2013 23:36:08 GMT -5
At the Deathsinger’s reassurance, Anivia convulsed, pulling her body into as small a ball as possible. Relief compounded upon the a storm of emotion unlike any she had ever experienced. A thin crooning rang out to fill the gap in Karthus’s speech, and the glacier itself resonated with the comforting tone, its violent shaking slowing in turn. The Herald of Death himself stood over Anivia, offering neither the peace of oblivion nor the shackles of undeath. So why appear at all?
His words fell over her win waves of sound, their meaning slipping through her grasp. Yet some part of her knew the grave importance of what he said, and even deeper was the unshakable knowledge of the truth those words held. No longer was the Freljord silent to her, the whispering ice reaching out to its new protector even through the roiling tremors.
A new power began to pour into her, not the wrenching force of Runeterra, but a fortifying strength. Anivia raised her head in confusion: Karthus was not one to offer support to others. It was undoubtably his curse to see all beings at their weakest- to ease their passage over the Threshold, not to nurse them to health. A glimmer of light sprang into her eyes with the power he granted. Neither oblivion nor undeath, could it be that he was drawn through a form of kinship?
“Then my life… lives are for Runeterra.” Her voice shook with weariness, expending the effort to regain a modicum of dignity. She haltingly gathered her feet beneath her, shuddering at the foreign sensation of sharp ice scraping across her talons. For the first time, she appraised her own condition. The clear ice was fragile to be sure, but much worse it was warm, threatening to melt in even the thin fingers of the Freljordian sun. Her voice fell to little more than a whisper, “The need was so very great.”
Post by The Deathsinger on Sept 25, 2013 2:48:11 GMT -5
"You yourself have felt the Void's taint." Karthus continued. "It is a stain that still mars this land, like the frayed edges of a hastily sewn shred of cloth just waiting to be torn open once again... And even now, they seek to tear new holes into our world. We have but tasted a measure of the Voidspawn's forces, for they are seemingly as unstoppable as the Serpentine River, and infinitely more deadly. There are many deaths yet to come... Your task is not for the faint of heart, but I know you will be strong."
Karthus started to rise into the air. "I would suggest that you continue to rest for a few more days. You are still recovering from your regeneration...It would be unwise to allow yourself to tax your new form before it is ready. May Death's Hand be forever grasping at your enemies." With those final words, the Deathsinger began to fade away into a black mist, once again leaving Anivia alone on the glacier.
Post by The Cryophoenix on Sept 30, 2013 17:45:21 GMT -5
Anivia shifted her gaze as Karthus continued to speak, taking in his words with silence, even reverence. Anivia had never truly feared death. Though she had felt his dark embrace more than once, she had never thought to show him gratitude. At the mention of the Void, her talons kneaded the earth anxiously, discomfort mingling with a pain that lingered freshly in her mind. The Void was no force to be trifled with, yet every part of her yearned to erase that unnatural scourge from the world. Even so far from the corruption, the sinister presence clawed at the edges of her perception. If Runeterra itself had called her to this task, she would see it done.
Even as Karthus began to take his leave, she slowly shook her head speaking after him, “Death’s hands grasp even at me, though he may choose to let me free of his caress. This is no task that could ever be won by the deeds of one, no matter the blessings they may hold. As soon as these wings will hold me aloft, I must find any that might aid me.” She watched as the Lich’s form faded into darkness, “Thank you, Deathsinger. Perhaps some day I can repay the favor.”
Once Karthus’s black mists evaporated in the mountain sun, she turned her gaze to the desolation of the glacial shelf. Across the once-pristine coat of rime was scrawled the costs of her forced rebirth, a jagged field of broken ice as far as she could see. She had heard the tales of destruction wrought by the rune wars, felt the screaming agony of its distant aftershocks, but never seen such lashing out of a world. Yet the Brackern before her had failed in the task, forced into hibernation by the very rune magic they were called upon to fight. Would her fate be any different? Was she worth the devastation wrought to this land?
She shook the thoughts away, wincing as she gingerly tested a transparent wing. Musing over the past would bring her no closer to protecting the future. The Avarosans were already working to bring the Freljord together in peace, and Rakelstake a second home to many a summoner. She needed to know what could be done, and the summoners what they were up against. The wind picked up around her as she raised her wings, and with a thrust of her wings, the fields of ice were empty without even a shadow to mark her passage.
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