It almost sounds like Flame was baiting us.
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.
Oh, the irony of calling Odyssial's successor a usurper...
You may no longer be playing, but you're going to get burned regardless.
Not since Sesus Ulyssian had humiliated him, all those days before.
To be fair, Flame, you humiliated yourself by attempting to brazenly extort meaningless pledges of support from House Sesus, confident in your own Exalted might.
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.
He is Ulyssian's opposite in a lot of ways. He was given nothing, except the one gift that meant everything: the gift of the Dragons. Ulyssian had all the swordmasters and resources of a Great House, yet was denied that. I suppose that symmetry is the point on which Anys' plan hinges.
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.
Not half as ardently as Ulyssian wished for Exaltation...
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.
How punny.
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.
She sounds... nice, for someone who's ostenisbly the reincarnation of our fanatically loyal lieutenant.
"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."
A heartwarming statement, befitting the Chosen of Hesiesh... but it's also more than a bit ironic, for in his desire to honor his sister he has betrayed the ideals that she so loved about him. The oppressed and disenfranchised Outcaste has now become the oppressor. Or perhaps his sister never truly apprehended his nature in the first place. Love blinds just as easily as it binds, after all.
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.
A beautiful sentiment, but that single-minded focus appears to have given way to presumption and self-righteousness.
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.
Admirable conviction. Misplaced and engendered by callous manipulation, but still admirable.
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.
I think you mean Hesiesh 'herself', Flame. Wonder how Syn does it? Appearing in dreams, probably; Quicksilver Hand style would be well suited to that, if Syn isn't too diminished to utilize it.
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.
For a second there, Flame seemed almost likeable. But then he had to go and take a swan dive into full-blown zealotry and start capitalizing words like 'their'.
Unless Flame stopped him.
Naturally, Anys would fan the flames of his hero complex until he would see himself as not only the world's Chosen savior, but the only one capable of doing so. On another note, his name lends itself so naturally to puns it's almost too easy.
Sesus Ulyssian. Who by all rights should have been Chosen by the Dragons, and was not.
Well, it's not the Dragons' fault that they didn't want to interfere in Odyssial's plans! That's just common sense!
Resolute Flame. Who by all rights should never even have seen a Dragon-Blooded in his life, and yet was Chosen.
It is kind of strange, the fidelity of the various reincarnations around here, especially the Dragon-Blooded ones. Did Odyssial arrange for all of them?
The Dragons did have a sense of irony.
The Dragons, if they're even involved in the Exaltation process at all, have Chosen some seriously questionable individuals. That's true of every Exalt type, though; Lyta, I'm looking at you.
Flame had assimilated the lessons of Sesus Ulyssian. And now he would destroy him.
So you say.
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.
In this instance, he is objectively incorrect, and has misjudged the measure of his foe's capacity. Ulyssian can deflect his blow, even without Exaltation.
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.
With Exaltation? He can do much, much more than deflect it.
Within that word is encapsulated a truly delicious surfeit of horror.
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.
Wonder what anima power is responsible for this.
Fitting, for the Sun's Chosen. Although... Ulyssian isn't really Chosen by the Sun, come to think of it. He was Chosen by his past self, so he's actually more the Exalted of Odyssial.
Behold, the monster of your own making. Perhaps that's giving him too much credit, though. Flame is merely the spark that ignited a world-consuming conflagration.
Resolute Flame was a conflagration, a force of nature, but what stood against him was a force beyond nature.
Come now, don't despair! It's only your worst enemy uplifted to the heights of power! What happened to being resolute?
His was the raging fury of a bonfire, but this was the nuclear brilliance of the Sun.
Could be worse; it could always be nuclear green hatefire!
To you? Certainly. But Ulyssian is no soul-stealing monster sprung fully-formed from an Immaculate fable.
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.
Makes sense that Ulyssian would know all about this. Also, the title makes its appearance.
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.
Possibly the origin of the chapter title. A sun, rising in the most improbable of all circumstances.
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...
Solars, man. When we come into our own, the Roseblack and her ilk will look upon the work of the Lord Strategos reborn and despair.
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.
The line about memories makes this a particularly auspicious recollection to bubble to the surface, and serves to highlight the degree to which Odyssial and Ulyssian are really the same person.
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.
An impossible task? Must be Tuesday.
And where there was a chance, he could find a way.
More of Odyssial bleeding over into Ulyssian.
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.
The Exaltation itself must've healed his pre-existing injuries, I guess. The entire situation is fortuitous, but it's good that Ulyssian is adapting to changing circumstances this well.
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.
This confusion is worrisome, but it's good that Ivory is looking out for her favorite student.
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.
All you have to do... is socialize. Yeah, you're probably fucked. Or would be, if not for the presence of allies.
Sesus Ulyssian was a Dynast, through and through. To enter the Naval Academy, he'd studied extensively the Immaculate Texts.
That must've been a bitter pill to swallow, reading about your own ostensible inferiority and lack of spiritual perfection.
The crowds had gone quiet, uncertain. Stormclouds laden, on the precipice of unleashing a deluge.
A fitting metaphor for a tournament taking place in Seacrown.
"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-"
In attacking Mooon, Flame truly has committed an unforgivable sin. I imagine this part doesn't take much acting.
"You-" Flame emitted a strangled gasp. His eyes twitched, full of shock, loathing, and sheer incredulity. "You're-"
Problem, Flame? Seriously, though, he must be losing his shit right now. The sheer audacity, for an Anathema to even attempt such a thing...
"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?"
Except Flame, by his own admission, does not fight for the Ten Thousand Dragons, just one in particular. Or at least that's what he tells himself.
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.
Looks like we're making progress with our anima. Now we just need to figure out how to generate actual heat and reframe our real anima power in the context of something appropriate to a Dragon-Blood.
"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!"
Flame must be desperately hoping that Zao'll live up to his reputation and smite the wicked Anathema.
Ulyssian stayed silent, glancing up with shellshocked reproach, not all of it feigned.
Not the reaction he was expecting, but I suppose Zao wants to refocus the audience on him and his admittedly impressive chastisement.
"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?"
Man, he's good. You'd never guess that beneath that snarl lies deep-seated gratitude.
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?"
Nicely played. He's deflecting questions about our supernova anima banner by framing it as a specialized technique, now fading.
"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."
It is strange, that Zao seemed to anticipate our Exaltation, yet knew nothing of Odyssial. For such a cynical and world-weary man to have faith that, this one time, a man's courage and unfaltering determination would be justly rewarded... there must be a reason.
"No," Zao intoned, "you clearly weren't."
Hey, we were actually a good deal more clear-headed than Zao himself would've been if he'd intervened!
"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!"
Wait. Hesiesh told him? As in, just now? He's in constant communication with Syn? Troublesome... I'd hoped to corral the information, take her by surprise with Ivory funnelling misinformation, but it appears that will be impossible. It's also nice to see that trick from the opening ceremony making a comeback, though it's probably second-nature to Zao by now.
"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."
Ah, the nickname! It appears Pearl isn't alone in taking liberties in that regard.
Zao grimaced. "Enough, Professor. We will discuss this at length in the future."
Yeah, I think Ulyssian, Zao, and Ivory really ought to sit down and make sure everybody's on the same page here. Winging it like this is extremely impressive, a feat worthy of centuries-old master manipulators, but should only ever be a last resort.
Flame turned unbelieving eyes towards Ivory. "Professor Ivory? You're in on it too?"
Heh, Flame, Ivory is in on so many things that your poor, pious mind would explode from shock if you knew the tenth part of them.
"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 a exceptional mortal. That's believable, right?"
Ten trolls out of ten.
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!
ATT in action once again.
"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-"
You are required to do nothing, Flame, least of all believe. In fact, I can't help but think it would be better for you if you didn't believe; this zealotry thing isn't working out well for you.
"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."
... No words. This, this is beautiful. Ivory abused Avoiding the Truth Technique last time around as well, with the Salbeibama situation, but this is just stunning.
This drew a few guffaws from the stands.
Ivory knows her audience, it seems. If Anys is watching, I wonder how she feels? Watching her last ally betray her while all those hard-fought for dreams dissolve into dust around her? I hope it hurts. Flame's still alive, so the candle of her hope will endure for at least a while longer, but our revenge is almost better this way. A woman as committed as she is cannot allow herself to succumb fully to the luxury that is despair, so she'll have to do battle, even knowing the futility of her cause. Perhaps we will even have the opportunity to deliver the coup de grace in the future. Still, Ulyssian knows none of this, and it would be foolish to discount someone with Syn's resources even if she is in dire straits.
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."
Sometimes it's easy to forget that Zao is, in fact, Captain Planet. Then he goes and trivially disposes of an Immaculate Master; I suppose that must have been somewhat cathartic for Zao, given his feelings towards Flame and what he just attempted. The lucky bastard doesn't know that we basically spared his life twice, once by choosing to intervene, and once by not optimizing to beat him like a redheaded stepchild upon our Exaltation. Still, if he's dead, he can't suffer, so there is that silver lining to the cloud of his continued existence.
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 into a sour grin, "my enemies most of all."
Such masterful deception. He did let his temper go, but not when he ostensibly lost it at Ulyssian.
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!
Ah, the Dragon-Blooded, jade-clad jaded hedonists one and all, with coffers filled with more of the same. Difficult to entertain at the best of times; it seems annoying in a hard-to-define way that such a pivotal moment for us is nothing more than entertainment for them.
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."
Yet more deceiving without actual lies.
"And now," he finished, "tonight's festivities are concluded. Sesus, you're with me."
Yeah, I'll bet. Zao's probably pretty pleased, having dodged a scandal and gotten the Solar student he always wanted.
[ ] 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!
They are not likely to be happy with us having 'concealed' our Exaltation from them, so there are fences to be mended here, and opportunities to be seized.
[ ] 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...
We really ought to get a handle on what just happened to us, but our soul isn't going anywhere, and we chose the perfect integration option, so this is not as high a priority as it would be if we were conflicted.
[ ] 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...
The outcome will be some variety of positive, so as much as I'd like to see Ivory, I can't help but think we should shore up our withered Dynastic connections. We chose to stay in the Realm against all odds, so let's exploit that.
---
1639 words. Not a full reaction, but I felt I should contribute something.
From what I know of Exalted (which isn't much) going for the "kill them" option just makes more problems (Primordial war, Neverborn, Usurpation, etc etc) when you could just social it away.
