It would be funny as hell:lol
[Exalted, ?] Most High
- Thread starter Rihaku
- Start date
-
- Tags
- exalted (white wolf)
I'd ask what Flame was doing, but he's probably otherwise indisposed.
- Pronouns
- She/Her
And the Ebon Dragon appeared to grant good will to all men and peace on the Blessed Isle, right?
Wait, what exactly did Uly choose as his new Anima?
Oh boy.
Let met amend that.
No matter what happens at least if things go horribly horribly wrong, Ulyssian will go down in a blaze of glory, looking utterly badass.
Though if this proves to be wrong I just might break down and cry.
But did it work?
I wonder what this would actually look like.
Midnight Suns
Rihaku
The Internet
Midnight Suns
Resolute Flame.
Sesus Ulyssian's stare was fixed to the Fire Aspect, the would-be executioner of his dearest friend. Scarce months ago, he had defeated Flame in single combat, a mortal overcoming one of the Ten Thousand Dragons. Spurred by resentment, that dragon had grown strong. And so Sesus Ulyssian looked for any means, any opening, any weakness to exploit, any way for that mortal to replicate the outcome of his first battle with that dragon.
Resolute Flame.
He had not learned so quickly from nothing. He'd had examples, people to imitate and follow. And by the mundane movements of his legs, the way he positioned his stance, it was clear - the foundations of his combat art were copied from Ulyssian himself. In any other scenario, Ulyssian wouldn't have had a chance. But if Flame's fighting style was based on that of his mortal foe, then that mortal could predict the exact location of his arm at the moment of impact. There wouldn't be precious fractions of a second wasted aiming or adjusting.
A prodigy the equal of an Immaculate Master. Ulyssian could deflect the blow. All he needed to do was act.
All he needed to do, was the impossible.
He erupted forward, raw speed, rocketing off the front of the box, pumping with bone-crunching force across the glass-streaked sands, muscles pushed to tearing, each step a punishment of jarring, juddering force. Molten blisters spread across his face; char blackened his hair and skin; he smelled boiling fat. But nothing penetrated the circle of his concentration until the movement was complete. He had spent a lifetime honing the exact stances Flame now used. That lifetime's familiarity, he now turned against it, acting without thought or hesitation to produce a single, flawless counter.
In that moment, there was no organism named Sesus Ulyssian. There was only the movement, faultless and unadorned, ideal coupled to form, man and blade subsumed in perfect unity.
And then, there was light.
---
At last.
At last the mortal usurper would get what was coming to him. In presuming to save his betters, he was playing with fire. And Flame did not play.
Not anymore.
Not since Sesus Ulyssian had humiliated him, all those days before.
On that day, Resolute Flame died an inner death. He was a Dragon-Blood that had lost to a mortal. That was lower than a mortal. He, who carried the burden of his entire destitute family on his shoulders, who had studied for years to enter the Naval Academy, who had entered with the bright and earnest hope of creating a better life for his parents, his sister - that man had been unbearably, inconceivably stupid.
On that day, Resolute Flame learned that though he was Exalted by the Dragons, he was not Chosen by them, no matter what the Immaculates said. They had given him an opportunity, and he had squandered it. Deep in his heart, at the very core of his soul, he had wished for nothing so much as a second chance.
But none came. Mocked unceasingly, dismissed by peer and professor alike, he stood alone in an Academy where even the mortal had allies to watch his back. Flame guttered, in those dark days. He was very nearly extinguished.
At his lowest hour, when he prepared to take his own life, he'd thought of his sister - of her kind, patient smile, of her perpetually bandaged hands, her quiet strength. She was frail and sickly, but nonetheless always ready to patch up his bruises and thoughtless scrapes. She was ill, beyond even the Grace of the Dragons to remedy, but she had never resented Flame for his health and vigor. To the contrary, she had thrown every ounce of her being into supporting him.
"All of my Second Breath," she'd used to say, "I give to you. I'm afraid I've very much disappointed the Dragons. I don't know why I was Chosen. But you, you are different. You have such spirit, always standing up for those weaker than you. I may be merely an ember, but you are the resolute flame."
His own life, even his own Exaltation, he'd been free to squander, and merely despair. But what she had given him, he refused to dishonor. Redemption, atonement, a second chance - none of that mattered. All that mattered was that he lived up to her sacrifice. The other Nine thousand, Nine hundred and Ninety-Nine Dragons concerned him not at all.
From the mortal he had learned that strength came only through practice. And so Flame practiced. He practiced until his knuckles bled, until every exhalation was fire, until his arms and legs were more tear than flesh. Burning the wick of his life, he sought any and all avenues of strength, beyond mere fire or sword. He ingested envenomed acid until it could replace his own lifeblood. He learned the finger-stinging secrets to refine firepowder from raw firedust. Burning away his own need for sleep, he worked endless nights to master the Immaculate Dragon Styles, until all of his grim existence seemed but one unending and pain-streaked twilight.
And then Hesiesh had come to him, and all of it had become clear. Like Hesiesh himself, Flame's potential had slumbered, awaiting the moment of dire necessity. Awaiting his nemesis, Sesus Ulyssian.
The mortal. The usurper, who would seek to cast down the Dragon-Blooded and raise the profane banner of mortal rule over Their sacred realm. Sesus Ulyssian, Dynast. Whose line of descent traced to the Empress herself. Who had been trained from birth by the greatest masters of arms that jade and silver could buy. Whose family connection, status, and unnatural willpower would inspire unseemly ambition in the masses of the Realm, and win over even the mightiest of Dragons to his misguided cause.
Unless Flame stopped him.
Sesus Ulyssian. Who by all rights should have been Chosen by the Dragons, and was not.
Resolute Flame. Who by all rights should never even have seen a Dragon-Blooded in his life, and yet was Chosen.
The Dragons did have a sense of irony.
Flame had assimilated the lessons of Sesus Ulyssian. And now he would destroy him.
Around them, the air rippled and streamed. Molten sand bubbled under his feet. The roar of the crowd was all-consuming, rattling in his bones. He pounded forth, a righteous avenger, to destroy the mortal with power gifted to him by the Dragons themselves, at a speed which no mortal could even perceive, much less deflect.
And then, impossibly, Sesus Ulyssian deflected it. As if some heavenly guardian had descended, to turn the blow aside. Light sprang into being around him, such light as Flame had never seen, and a halo of brilliant gold glowed faintly upon the mortal's brow.
No.
A trumpet-blast of dread and crippling awe struck through Flame. This was no mortal, not any more. Behind Sesus Ulyssian dawned a burning star of white. Its incandescent fury, inescapable, seemed to melt through Flame's retinas, his eyes, all the layers of his self, as if they were but wax: burrowing through, inevitable, to sear its presence directly onto his brain.
It was as clear as day.
He couldn't win.
Resolute Flame was a conflagration, a force of nature, but what stood against him was a force beyond nature.
His was the raging fury of a bonfire, but this was the nuclear brilliance of the Sun.
Anathema.
---
Ulyssian, who was Odyssial, struck forth. He was confident he'd angled his caste mark so that it was concealed from all but Flame. The apocalypse of power that had swept through him now was pouring out, fusing into the great orb of light that hung over and behind him like a midnight sun. He had, of course, read about animas in detail when he was small, fantasizing about the day he'd finally Exalt. Though the glory of an anima banner could not be easily suppressed, its form was the product of an Exalt's mind.
Ulyssian found that he was able to focus somehow harder than before, exert greater mental effort to attain greater insights, control, and skill. It was like the difference between half-heartedly performing a task and fully focusing on it, but expanded by ten orders of magnitude. It was like watching the world through an endless night, only to finally witness the dawn. He could see so much further, now. To the very horizon of possibility.
When he looked at Flame, all the possible outcomes of their battle unfolded before him, not in any way that touched upon his senses, but as a simple bone-deep awareness, more present than any mere visualization. In the same sense that a scholar could look upon 5 plus 5 and simply know that it was 10, he could look upon a battlefield and know the consequences of ten thousand different moves. It was no more overwhelming than reading words on a page. If anything it felt familiar, as if a thousand times before, he'd...
A thousand times before, he'd tested the limits of his personal skill to find himself pressed against a cage made of physical law. A human could only move so fast. A human could only perceive so much. Now he pressed, and found no limits at all. It flooded into him, like memories he'd never truly forgotten, what he would have learned if he hadn't been caged.
That same startling level of insight, that same inhuman effort, he now applied to the task of survival. A seemingly impossible task. He was alone, Exalted as a Solar Anathema, in a Coliseum full of the Dragon-Blooded. That his anima banner had taken the form of a dawning sun, purest white and livid with flame, was extremely fortunate. There was hardly a tinge of Solar gold. It meant he had a chance. A chance not only to survive, but to emerge from this empowered.
And where there was a chance, he could find a way.
Flame's anima banner gave off tremendous heat, its mere shimmer sufficient to deform steel and slag mortal flesh. Somehow, Ulyssian's skill of physical endurance, raised to incredible heights, managed to protect him from that heat. But he could use Flame's aura to mask the lack of heat in his own anima, even as he worked to slowly reshape the outward displays of his power, disperse the orb of his anima into a more conventional sheeting of fire. As long as he stayed close enough to Flame, he might be able to profess a Fire-Aspected Exaltation. His own lack of burns at the end would only verify the story, and any peculiarities at the moment of Exaltation could be waved off as an aberration of such moments, incredibly common in practice and lore.
Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Remniscent Pearl - no, that was Sepulchral Ivory - no, that was Professor Ivory - gently carrying Moon away.
He had to stall, at least for a few minutes more. He had to keep Flame from credibly announcing his Anathema nature. He had to control the narrative.
Sesus Ulyssian was a Dynast, through and through. To enter the Naval Academy, he'd studied extensively the Immaculate Texts.
The crowds had gone quiet, uncertain. Stormclouds laden, on the precipice of unleashing a deluge.
"I do not presume to speak for Hesiesh, brother," Ulyssian shouted, as Flame reeled still. "But the Dragon of Fire restrained his own awesome power for all his life, until the one moment that it was truly necessary. His defining lesson, the lesson of his great sacrifice, was temperance. I do not know why Hesiesh Chose me tonight, but do you truly believe that your excessive display did him honor? And against your sister dragon, no less? As ardent an image of Mela as has ever walked this earth, whose only crime was in being," his voice broke, "too, kind, to some of her lessers-"
"You-" Flame emitted a strangled gasp. His eyes twitched, full of shock, loathing, and sheer incredulity. "You're-"
"After all," Ulyssian cut in, raising his voice, stepping forward, pointing his blade at the Headmaster's box, "Was it not Headmaster Zao himself who told us that we do not fight for the Dragon of Air, or for the Dragon of Water, but for the Ten Thousand Dragons together?"
There was a crack of thunder, and Lung Feng Zao was all of a sudden there. In his eyes glinted surprise, deep vexation, and fury at plans foiled. He trembled with barely controlled rage, stalking over to loom over Odyssian. The flames grew taller, and stronger. They licked outwards from his boots, his limbs. White fire.
"Yes," he said, and his tone was ice against steel, a whisper of deadly promise that carried clear through the entire arena, "how very amusing. How very apropos, you insolent, little, FOOL!"
Ulyssian stayed silent, glancing up with shellshocked reproach, not all of it feigned.
"Decades of preparation, FINISHED!" He roared, arm slashing through the air. "A safe lifetime of obscurity, blown for naught! I chose you myself. You were to save us from folly, not plunge headlong into it! With all Creation on the line, you go and act out for, for," his face twisted into a disgusted snarl, "for what? For her? For this frivolity?"
Zao turned away, shaking his head as if in disbelief. "Dragon's Grace! With this development, I may have to seriously re-evaluate your position as my successor, Ulyssian. The power that runs in your veins may eclipse that of Sesus himself, but you clearly lack the very restraint for which you were so ironically lecturing your fellow. The techniques you showed today should have been reserved for your uttermost enemy, not an audience of thousands! If you cannot maintain the simple conceit that you are not an Exalt, how can you possibly outwit the Anathema? How many times have I told you that anonymity is the best defense, that your enemy - my enemies - cannot strike at you if they do not know of you?"
"Sir," Ulyssian swallowed, head down, not nearly as confident in his acting skills as Zao was. Had Zao actually avoided telling any lies during that entire tirade, relying entirely on misapprehended truths? It was possible, if he'd held a higher opinion of Ulyssian than Ulyssian himself could believe. "I... wasn't thinking."
"No," Zao intoned, "you clearly weren't."
"This," Flame stammered, voice carrying feebly as Zao modulated the acoustics of the air, "this is a farce! He- Sesus Ulyssian, he's an Anathema! And you," he pointed at Zao, "you're in on it too! Hesiesh told me, you're in on it too!"
"Enough," said Reminiscent Ivory, emerging slowly from the arena entrance, wiping her hands of blood. "Headmaster, the boy made a mistake, but for the best of reasons. With all due respect, sir, you let your temper get the best of you. If you'd said nothing, they would believe Uly to be nothing more than a improbable Exalt. Now, everyone knows."
Zao grimaced. "We will discuss this at length in the future."
Flame turned unbelieving eyes towards Ivory. "Professor Ivory? You're in on it too?"
"Of course," said Professor Ivory with a vulpine grin. "A mortal boy gets tests in the top ten percent of Dragon-Blooded. He gets into the Imperial Naval Academy, and is chosen by Lung Feng Zao himself to be his personal student, because he's such an exceptional mortal. That's believable, right?"
Ulyssian felt a vague sense of umbrage, because it sounded completely ridiculous for some reason. Even though he knew it was true. Even though she was talking about him!
"I can't believe it," Flame shook his head. "You're all covering for him. HE'S AN ANATHEMA! I, I saw it, I can prove it-"
"Yes, yes," Ivory drawled, "Zao's chosen successor is actually an Anathema. You may as well call me an Anathema. No, even better, I'm a secret class of Exalt who has, for hundreds of years, maintained a world-spanning conspiracy to prop up the Realm."
This drew a few guffaws from the stands.
Zao appeared behind Flame, dispatching him into unconsciousness with a single neck chop. "Resolute Flame presumed to speak for the Immaculate Dragons without ordination. For this, and for the egregious and unforgivable insult he dealt to his fellow Dragon-Blooded, he will be disciplined. But he did speak one truth, tonight. This is indeed a farce."
He sighed. "I apologize, honored guests. I did let my temper go, and that was regrettable. But I think we have all learned something tonight," his face twisted sourly, "my enemies most of all."
This prompted a round of full-blown laughter, as the assembled crowd embraced the welcome release from tension. Certainly, the elders murmured sardonically, this affair had provided such quality entertainment as to exceed even their lofty expectations!
Zao harumphed irritatedly. "My especial apologies to the Heads of House Sesus, for scheming behind their backs. My trespass is nothing less than treachery, to steal the most promising of your sons, but it is not every century that I choose a successor. Sesus Ulyssian possesses a power that may be unique among all the scions of Dynasty. I trust no one will be so intemperate as to ask after the exact nature of his bloodline. It is not my wish to lie, especially not to my esteemed guests."
"And now," he finished, "tonight's festivities are concluded. Sesus, you're with me."
---
Weekend XP Bonus! Because you are distressingly low on XP, fanworks will yield double XP for the entire weekend (from now to Sunday night).
Time is of the essence. Your actions in the next few hours could redound across Creation.
[ ] Family Time - If you don't wish to heavily strain relations with your family, it would be wise to contact them quickly and apologize. Explain that Zao had wanted you to learn humility and resourcefulness without resorting to the skill of the Exalted, and that you were initially not supposed to draw attention to yourself, being instead a mortal that everyone could safely look down upon. You have failed this test, and ruined his plans, but you cannot say you are too unhappy - it is, after all, the nature of House Sesus always to strive towards glory!
[ ] Me Time - You are Odyssial, who is Ulyssian. Ulyssian, who is Odyssial. The same man, with two sets of memories. It would be wise to integrate those memories, and explore the depths of your power, before moving against the world. There is something of great import, locked within your anima, just barely beyond your reach...
[ ] Night Time - Moon is indisposed, but you can do nothing for her. Her fate is in the hands of the healers. Still, you cannot help but desire to act. Perhaps you could clarify the confusion within you on another matter: Reminiscent Ivory, who you keep thinking of as "Pearl." Memories float to the fore, like unanchored buoys, but you would be remiss to investigate them without also investigating her. It feels almost as if the two of you have a connection, but it is fluctuating wildly, uncertain...
Resolute Flame.
Sesus Ulyssian's stare was fixed to the Fire Aspect, the would-be executioner of his dearest friend. Scarce months ago, he had defeated Flame in single combat, a mortal overcoming one of the Ten Thousand Dragons. Spurred by resentment, that dragon had grown strong. And so Sesus Ulyssian looked for any means, any opening, any weakness to exploit, any way for that mortal to replicate the outcome of his first battle with that dragon.
Resolute Flame.
He had not learned so quickly from nothing. He'd had examples, people to imitate and follow. And by the mundane movements of his legs, the way he positioned his stance, it was clear - the foundations of his combat art were copied from Ulyssian himself. In any other scenario, Ulyssian wouldn't have had a chance. But if Flame's fighting style was based on that of his mortal foe, then that mortal could predict the exact location of his arm at the moment of impact. There wouldn't be precious fractions of a second wasted aiming or adjusting.
A prodigy the equal of an Immaculate Master. Ulyssian could deflect the blow. All he needed to do was act.
All he needed to do, was the impossible.
He erupted forward, raw speed, rocketing off the front of the box, pumping with bone-crunching force across the glass-streaked sands, muscles pushed to tearing, each step a punishment of jarring, juddering force. Molten blisters spread across his face; char blackened his hair and skin; he smelled boiling fat. But nothing penetrated the circle of his concentration until the movement was complete. He had spent a lifetime honing the exact stances Flame now used. That lifetime's familiarity, he now turned against it, acting without thought or hesitation to produce a single, flawless counter.
In that moment, there was no organism named Sesus Ulyssian. There was only the movement, faultless and unadorned, ideal coupled to form, man and blade subsumed in perfect unity.
And then, there was light.
---
At last.
At last the mortal usurper would get what was coming to him. In presuming to save his betters, he was playing with fire. And Flame did not play.
Not anymore.
Not since Sesus Ulyssian had humiliated him, all those days before.
On that day, Resolute Flame died an inner death. He was a Dragon-Blood that had lost to a mortal. That was lower than a mortal. He, who carried the burden of his entire destitute family on his shoulders, who had studied for years to enter the Naval Academy, who had entered with the bright and earnest hope of creating a better life for his parents, his sister - that man had been unbearably, inconceivably stupid.
On that day, Resolute Flame learned that though he was Exalted by the Dragons, he was not Chosen by them, no matter what the Immaculates said. They had given him an opportunity, and he had squandered it. Deep in his heart, at the very core of his soul, he had wished for nothing so much as a second chance.
But none came. Mocked unceasingly, dismissed by peer and professor alike, he stood alone in an Academy where even the mortal had allies to watch his back. Flame guttered, in those dark days. He was very nearly extinguished.
At his lowest hour, when he prepared to take his own life, he'd thought of his sister - of her kind, patient smile, of her perpetually bandaged hands, her quiet strength. She was frail and sickly, but nonetheless always ready to patch up his bruises and thoughtless scrapes. She was ill, beyond even the Grace of the Dragons to remedy, but she had never resented Flame for his health and vigor. To the contrary, she had thrown every ounce of her being into supporting him.
"All of my Second Breath," she'd used to say, "I give to you. I'm afraid I've very much disappointed the Dragons. I don't know why I was Chosen. But you, you are different. You have such spirit, always standing up for those weaker than you. I may be merely an ember, but you are the resolute flame."
His own life, even his own Exaltation, he'd been free to squander, and merely despair. But what she had given him, he refused to dishonor. Redemption, atonement, a second chance - none of that mattered. All that mattered was that he lived up to her sacrifice. The other Nine thousand, Nine hundred and Ninety-Nine Dragons concerned him not at all.
From the mortal he had learned that strength came only through practice. And so Flame practiced. He practiced until his knuckles bled, until every exhalation was fire, until his arms and legs were more tear than flesh. Burning the wick of his life, he sought any and all avenues of strength, beyond mere fire or sword. He ingested envenomed acid until it could replace his own lifeblood. He learned the finger-stinging secrets to refine firepowder from raw firedust. Burning away his own need for sleep, he worked endless nights to master the Immaculate Dragon Styles, until all of his grim existence seemed but one unending and pain-streaked twilight.
And then Hesiesh had come to him, and all of it had become clear. Like Hesiesh himself, Flame's potential had slumbered, awaiting the moment of dire necessity. Awaiting his nemesis, Sesus Ulyssian.
The mortal. The usurper, who would seek to cast down the Dragon-Blooded and raise the profane banner of mortal rule over Their sacred realm. Sesus Ulyssian, Dynast. Whose line of descent traced to the Empress herself. Who had been trained from birth by the greatest masters of arms that jade and silver could buy. Whose family connection, status, and unnatural willpower would inspire unseemly ambition in the masses of the Realm, and win over even the mightiest of Dragons to his misguided cause.
Unless Flame stopped him.
Sesus Ulyssian. Who by all rights should have been Chosen by the Dragons, and was not.
Resolute Flame. Who by all rights should never even have seen a Dragon-Blooded in his life, and yet was Chosen.
The Dragons did have a sense of irony.
Flame had assimilated the lessons of Sesus Ulyssian. And now he would destroy him.
Around them, the air rippled and streamed. Molten sand bubbled under his feet. The roar of the crowd was all-consuming, rattling in his bones. He pounded forth, a righteous avenger, to destroy the mortal with power gifted to him by the Dragons themselves, at a speed which no mortal could even perceive, much less deflect.
And then, impossibly, Sesus Ulyssian deflected it. As if some heavenly guardian had descended, to turn the blow aside. Light sprang into being around him, such light as Flame had never seen, and a halo of brilliant gold glowed faintly upon the mortal's brow.
No.
A trumpet-blast of dread and crippling awe struck through Flame. This was no mortal, not any more. Behind Sesus Ulyssian dawned a burning star of white. Its incandescent fury, inescapable, seemed to melt through Flame's retinas, his eyes, all the layers of his self, as if they were but wax: burrowing through, inevitable, to sear its presence directly onto his brain.
It was as clear as day.
He couldn't win.
Resolute Flame was a conflagration, a force of nature, but what stood against him was a force beyond nature.
His was the raging fury of a bonfire, but this was the nuclear brilliance of the Sun.
Anathema.
---
Ulyssian, who was Odyssial, struck forth. He was confident he'd angled his caste mark so that it was concealed from all but Flame. The apocalypse of power that had swept through him now was pouring out, fusing into the great orb of light that hung over and behind him like a midnight sun. He had, of course, read about animas in detail when he was small, fantasizing about the day he'd finally Exalt. Though the glory of an anima banner could not be easily suppressed, its form was the product of an Exalt's mind.
Ulyssian found that he was able to focus somehow harder than before, exert greater mental effort to attain greater insights, control, and skill. It was like the difference between half-heartedly performing a task and fully focusing on it, but expanded by ten orders of magnitude. It was like watching the world through an endless night, only to finally witness the dawn. He could see so much further, now. To the very horizon of possibility.
When he looked at Flame, all the possible outcomes of their battle unfolded before him, not in any way that touched upon his senses, but as a simple bone-deep awareness, more present than any mere visualization. In the same sense that a scholar could look upon 5 plus 5 and simply know that it was 10, he could look upon a battlefield and know the consequences of ten thousand different moves. It was no more overwhelming than reading words on a page. If anything it felt familiar, as if a thousand times before, he'd...
A thousand times before, he'd tested the limits of his personal skill to find himself pressed against a cage made of physical law. A human could only move so fast. A human could only perceive so much. Now he pressed, and found no limits at all. It flooded into him, like memories he'd never truly forgotten, what he would have learned if he hadn't been caged.
That same startling level of insight, that same inhuman effort, he now applied to the task of survival. A seemingly impossible task. He was alone, Exalted as a Solar Anathema, in a Coliseum full of the Dragon-Blooded. That his anima banner had taken the form of a dawning sun, purest white and livid with flame, was extremely fortunate. There was hardly a tinge of Solar gold. It meant he had a chance. A chance not only to survive, but to emerge from this empowered.
And where there was a chance, he could find a way.
Flame's anima banner gave off tremendous heat, its mere shimmer sufficient to deform steel and slag mortal flesh. Somehow, Ulyssian's skill of physical endurance, raised to incredible heights, managed to protect him from that heat. But he could use Flame's aura to mask the lack of heat in his own anima, even as he worked to slowly reshape the outward displays of his power, disperse the orb of his anima into a more conventional sheeting of fire. As long as he stayed close enough to Flame, he might be able to profess a Fire-Aspected Exaltation. His own lack of burns at the end would only verify the story, and any peculiarities at the moment of Exaltation could be waved off as an aberration of such moments, incredibly common in practice and lore.
Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Remniscent Pearl - no, that was Sepulchral Ivory - no, that was Professor Ivory - gently carrying Moon away.
He had to stall, at least for a few minutes more. He had to keep Flame from credibly announcing his Anathema nature. He had to control the narrative.
Sesus Ulyssian was a Dynast, through and through. To enter the Naval Academy, he'd studied extensively the Immaculate Texts.
The crowds had gone quiet, uncertain. Stormclouds laden, on the precipice of unleashing a deluge.
"I do not presume to speak for Hesiesh, brother," Ulyssian shouted, as Flame reeled still. "But the Dragon of Fire restrained his own awesome power for all his life, until the one moment that it was truly necessary. His defining lesson, the lesson of his great sacrifice, was temperance. I do not know why Hesiesh Chose me tonight, but do you truly believe that your excessive display did him honor? And against your sister dragon, no less? As ardent an image of Mela as has ever walked this earth, whose only crime was in being," his voice broke, "too, kind, to some of her lessers-"
"You-" Flame emitted a strangled gasp. His eyes twitched, full of shock, loathing, and sheer incredulity. "You're-"
"After all," Ulyssian cut in, raising his voice, stepping forward, pointing his blade at the Headmaster's box, "Was it not Headmaster Zao himself who told us that we do not fight for the Dragon of Air, or for the Dragon of Water, but for the Ten Thousand Dragons together?"
There was a crack of thunder, and Lung Feng Zao was all of a sudden there. In his eyes glinted surprise, deep vexation, and fury at plans foiled. He trembled with barely controlled rage, stalking over to loom over Odyssian. The flames grew taller, and stronger. They licked outwards from his boots, his limbs. White fire.
"Yes," he said, and his tone was ice against steel, a whisper of deadly promise that carried clear through the entire arena, "how very amusing. How very apropos, you insolent, little, FOOL!"
Ulyssian stayed silent, glancing up with shellshocked reproach, not all of it feigned.
"Decades of preparation, FINISHED!" He roared, arm slashing through the air. "A safe lifetime of obscurity, blown for naught! I chose you myself. You were to save us from folly, not plunge headlong into it! With all Creation on the line, you go and act out for, for," his face twisted into a disgusted snarl, "for what? For her? For this frivolity?"
Zao turned away, shaking his head as if in disbelief. "Dragon's Grace! With this development, I may have to seriously re-evaluate your position as my successor, Ulyssian. The power that runs in your veins may eclipse that of Sesus himself, but you clearly lack the very restraint for which you were so ironically lecturing your fellow. The techniques you showed today should have been reserved for your uttermost enemy, not an audience of thousands! If you cannot maintain the simple conceit that you are not an Exalt, how can you possibly outwit the Anathema? How many times have I told you that anonymity is the best defense, that your enemy - my enemies - cannot strike at you if they do not know of you?"
"Sir," Ulyssian swallowed, head down, not nearly as confident in his acting skills as Zao was. Had Zao actually avoided telling any lies during that entire tirade, relying entirely on misapprehended truths? It was possible, if he'd held a higher opinion of Ulyssian than Ulyssian himself could believe. "I... wasn't thinking."
"No," Zao intoned, "you clearly weren't."
"This," Flame stammered, voice carrying feebly as Zao modulated the acoustics of the air, "this is a farce! He- Sesus Ulyssian, he's an Anathema! And you," he pointed at Zao, "you're in on it too! Hesiesh told me, you're in on it too!"
"Enough," said Reminiscent Ivory, emerging slowly from the arena entrance, wiping her hands of blood. "Headmaster, the boy made a mistake, but for the best of reasons. With all due respect, sir, you let your temper get the best of you. If you'd said nothing, they would believe Uly to be nothing more than a improbable Exalt. Now, everyone knows."
Zao grimaced. "We will discuss this at length in the future."
Flame turned unbelieving eyes towards Ivory. "Professor Ivory? You're in on it too?"
"Of course," said Professor Ivory with a vulpine grin. "A mortal boy gets tests in the top ten percent of Dragon-Blooded. He gets into the Imperial Naval Academy, and is chosen by Lung Feng Zao himself to be his personal student, because he's such an exceptional mortal. That's believable, right?"
Ulyssian felt a vague sense of umbrage, because it sounded completely ridiculous for some reason. Even though he knew it was true. Even though she was talking about him!
"I can't believe it," Flame shook his head. "You're all covering for him. HE'S AN ANATHEMA! I, I saw it, I can prove it-"
"Yes, yes," Ivory drawled, "Zao's chosen successor is actually an Anathema. You may as well call me an Anathema. No, even better, I'm a secret class of Exalt who has, for hundreds of years, maintained a world-spanning conspiracy to prop up the Realm."
This drew a few guffaws from the stands.
Zao appeared behind Flame, dispatching him into unconsciousness with a single neck chop. "Resolute Flame presumed to speak for the Immaculate Dragons without ordination. For this, and for the egregious and unforgivable insult he dealt to his fellow Dragon-Blooded, he will be disciplined. But he did speak one truth, tonight. This is indeed a farce."
He sighed. "I apologize, honored guests. I did let my temper go, and that was regrettable. But I think we have all learned something tonight," his face twisted sourly, "my enemies most of all."
This prompted a round of full-blown laughter, as the assembled crowd embraced the welcome release from tension. Certainly, the elders murmured sardonically, this affair had provided such quality entertainment as to exceed even their lofty expectations!
Zao harumphed irritatedly. "My especial apologies to the Heads of House Sesus, for scheming behind their backs. My trespass is nothing less than treachery, to steal the most promising of your sons, but it is not every century that I choose a successor. Sesus Ulyssian possesses a power that may be unique among all the scions of Dynasty. I trust no one will be so intemperate as to ask after the exact nature of his bloodline. It is not my wish to lie, especially not to my esteemed guests."
"And now," he finished, "tonight's festivities are concluded. Sesus, you're with me."
---
Weekend XP Bonus! Because you are distressingly low on XP, fanworks will yield double XP for the entire weekend (from now to Sunday night).
Time is of the essence. Your actions in the next few hours could redound across Creation.
[ ] Family Time - If you don't wish to heavily strain relations with your family, it would be wise to contact them quickly and apologize. Explain that Zao had wanted you to learn humility and resourcefulness without resorting to the skill of the Exalted, and that you were initially not supposed to draw attention to yourself, being instead a mortal that everyone could safely look down upon. You have failed this test, and ruined his plans, but you cannot say you are too unhappy - it is, after all, the nature of House Sesus always to strive towards glory!
[ ] Me Time - You are Odyssial, who is Ulyssian. Ulyssian, who is Odyssial. The same man, with two sets of memories. It would be wise to integrate those memories, and explore the depths of your power, before moving against the world. There is something of great import, locked within your anima, just barely beyond your reach...
[ ] Night Time - Moon is indisposed, but you can do nothing for her. Her fate is in the hands of the healers. Still, you cannot help but desire to act. Perhaps you could clarify the confusion within you on another matter: Reminiscent Ivory, who you keep thinking of as "Pearl." Memories float to the fore, like unanchored buoys, but you would be remiss to investigate them without also investigating her. It feels almost as if the two of you have a connection, but it is fluctuating wildly, uncertain...
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inawarminister
I ♥ anime
[X] Family Time - If you don't wish to heavily strain relations with your family, it would be wise to contact them quickly and apologize. Explain that Zao had wanted you to learn humility and resourcefulness without resorting to the skill of the Exalted, and that you were initially not supposed to draw attention to yourself, being instead a mortal that everyone could safely look down upon. You have failed this test, and ruined his plans, but you cannot say you are too unhappy - it is, after all, the nature of House Sesus always to strive towards glory!
[X] Night Time - Moon is indisposed, but you can do nothing for her. Her fate is in the hands of the healers. Still, you cannot help but desire to act. Perhaps you could clarify the confusion within you on another matter: Reminiscent Ivory, who you keep thinking of as "Pearl." Memories float to the fore, like unanchored bouys, but you would be remiss to investigate them without also investigating her. It feels almost as if the two of you have a connection, but it is fluctuating wildly, uncertain...
Also. man, that was beautiful.
Much better than killing Flame. Destroying his reputation, destroying the Bronze Faction ultimate plans, just with a split-second improvised scheme? Zao is boss.
My only regret is that we can't do the beautiness of Zao's Five-Elements circle again. Oh well. No harm, no foul. Dawn -> Flame after all, while Zenith -> Wood, so...
Also. man, that was beautiful.
Much better than killing Flame. Destroying his reputation, destroying the Bronze Faction ultimate plans, just with a split-second improvised scheme? Zao is boss.
My only regret is that we can't do the beautiness of Zao's Five-Elements circle again. Oh well. No harm, no foul. Dawn -> Flame after all, while Zenith -> Wood, so...
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Alectai
Speaks Words of Wisdom... On occasion
Wow, that worked pretty well.
I mean, Flame's not fooled, and Anys won't be fooled, but Everyone else was. And it was done in such a fashion that they Can't Prove it.
They can certainly try, they can certainly dig up evidence, and they can certainly unleash cats paws to try and force the truth out, but this was done so smoothly that they can't just point the finger and unleash the Immaculates on us.
All that XP spent to arrange this was all perfectly worth it!
I mean, Flame's not fooled, and Anys won't be fooled, but Everyone else was. And it was done in such a fashion that they Can't Prove it.
They can certainly try, they can certainly dig up evidence, and they can certainly unleash cats paws to try and force the truth out, but this was done so smoothly that they can't just point the finger and unleash the Immaculates on us.
All that XP spent to arrange this was all perfectly worth it!
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"Yes, yes," Ivory drawled, "Zao's chosen successor is actually an Anathema. You may as well call me an Anathema. No, even better, I'm a secret class of Exalt who has, for hundreds of years, maintained a world-spanning conspiracy to prop up the Realm."
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Avoiding the Truth Technique like a BOSS.
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Avoiding the Truth Technique like a BOSS.
What.
AZATHOTHoth
༼ つ ☀️_☀️ ༽つ
[X] Me Time - You are Odyssial, who is Ulyssian. Ulyssian, who is Odyssial. The same man, with two sets of memories. It would be wise to integrate those memories, and explore the depths of your power, before moving against the world. There is something of great import, locked within your anima, just barely beyond your reach...
I kind of feel bad for Flame now. What's wrong with me?
- Pronouns
- She/Her
You're right, this is much better.
I think I'm going to re-read this update later. It deserves to be savored like a fine wine.
Also, we totally pulled this off.
Emerald Oracle
Chaos, yet harmony. Death, yet the Force
- Location
- The Else
This latest update was so excellent that I have done the insane and actually signed up for Sufficient Velocity. What's more I'm actually getting involved in a Quest. Previously, I'd just lurked since at least the Magical Boy quest if not earlier.
I unlurk and join primarily cause I wanted to ask what, if anything, we know about Uly's parents? Do we even know their names? and do we have a bead on their theoretical response to their son finally exalting AND in such a manner/situation? I want to write something about it that isn't horribly out of character.
I unlurk and join primarily cause I wanted to ask what, if anything, we know about Uly's parents? Do we even know their names? and do we have a bead on their theoretical response to their son finally exalting AND in such a manner/situation? I want to write something about it that isn't horribly out of character.
inawarminister
I ♥ anime
Indeed.
I think we have our first new Lieutenant as Odyssian.
We just need to subvert him from Aenys first. Hmm. How would we do that?
Because his mentality is perfect for Ody's army.
The most optimal win is to convert your enemy to be an asset, after all.