Completed [Nyka] Dominion, or the tragedy of the commons [Ialari]

[Tarot]

The ghost nodded quietly - something that suited her new nature just fine and made no further comment, but could not help but notice how these hardships seemed to have changed Ialari in subtle ways. The Isur was not the same creature she had first met in the depths of Sahova's torture chambers. Perhaps the first-hand experience of how cruelly magic could twist your very essence had done something to evolve her bottomless ambition into something deeper, richer, and just a bit sadder. As for Shalla, she'd lost her own shell and gained ten years to finish her business in Sahova - and maybe, just maybe, find someone who would mourn her when she was gone. Ialari Pythone was an accomplished Magecrafter, and that helped her to a degree. Not so much in the actual tracing of the lines, as with the psychological ordeal of it. For there lay the greatest source of frustration: the feeling of complete uncertainty. It was something you experienced in Magecraft and other world magics, of course - you were never really sure if all your hard work would translate into the desired outcome. With Magecraft at least, you developed a certain knack for sensing if something was wrong with your item: a heightened sensitivity to delicate Djed patterns plus a plethora of tools if you were lucky enough to have them, gave the task a certain measure of predictability. With Dominion, though... it was literally just chalk lines on the walls. There was no way to know that it would work in the end, and if it did not, the user was left utterly clueless as to the reason why. Standing in a room that should have been magical but remained a jumble of chalk lines - and looking like a complete fool, no doubt. In time, Ialari might develop her own ways of quickly cross-checking sections of a Dominion work with some accuracy, but as a beginner, this really was an act of faith. If she ever faltered in her conviction, she would simply see herself in a room with silly scribbles, doomed. As if there weren't enough problems with lines that never met where they were supposed to. The scrolls mentioned that there was some tolerance with the layout, but that mistakes would end up reducing a Dominion's total size. Hence why beginners were limited in the space they could fold; the accumulation of tiny mistakes limited the output of the entire design. This much was not going to be a problem for her - any Dominion, no matter how small, should be able to fit her needs. Hopefully. Two days later, her supplies long exhausted, Ialari was done tracing the lines. She had drawn the floor last, and making her way back from the far wall to the entrance so as not to step on her own lines. Any corrections would quickly turn into a nightmare if she was forced to walk back in and disturb large sections of her work. Four days, and only six hours of sleep. Total. Shalla emerged from the floor behind her just as she was giving it the final inspection. "Well, that sure is... something," she said, watching the finished thing. The entire room was slightly mesmerizing to look at. "We don't have much time. There's a man in the market who keeps bumping into people and asking them questions. He doesn't look quite... right but he's dressed like a monk and they try to be helpful to him. He's getting close. We may not have another day in here." Ialari now had to pronounce an Oath and vouch for her dominion to assert her own will upon the fabric of the universe. Finally, she had to reach a state of deep concentration that - if she'd done her homework right, and if the scrolls were truthful - might allow her to get a glimpse of the Ukalas. A far more fearsome place than any dead Morpher, no matter how powerful.

[Ialari Pythone]

Lack of sleep hammered Ialari's mind and body in consistent waves as she crafted the seemingly meaningless lines and patterns. Her body was already broken and her mind had been shattered and glued back together; both held together now by faith and stubbornness. There were moments where Ialari almost doubted that any of it would even work to begin with. She knew there were places where her measurements could have been off a bit but didn't have the time or energy to attempt any corrections; that was assuming corrections were even possible.

As she made her way toward the room entrance with the last lines coming into existence one last movement of her metallic hand, Ialari gazed into the room. Holding herself upright inside the door frame, Ialari marveled at the odd work she just completed. In all its seemingly chaotic, randomness, she had a sense that there was something more in it. Whether or not that something was what she was looking had yet to be seen but there was no doubting the feeling. You're just tired, Ialari. You've probably missed something or drew the wrong line. It probably won't work and you'll just be left pleading for Berliotz to end it quickly. That voice, her own yet not exactly her, it always seemed to haunt her at the worst times. No, she thought in defiance, He is with me. I could feel his hand guiding my own. I will not fail. This will work. Her internal argument was interrupted by a soft, ghostly presence behind her. Shalla's voice brought Ialari back from the brink once more.

Ialari lowered her head at the mention of the stumbling, questioning monk. Her eyes were burning, her head was aching and it was all she could do to stay standing. She knew Berliotz was getting close but hearing it confirmed brought the reality of the situation to the forefront of her mind. "If we survive this, I'm going to sleep until I wake up. Then, you are going to share what is left of my body and together, we are going to enjoy the strongest drink we can find." Ialari took a deep, labored breath. The easy part of her task was over as the hardest part was now at hand.

Ialari moved to take her place for the final piece of the puzzle. Before she started, Ialari remembered her home, the dark beauty of the deepest caverns, the faces of the people she had sacrificed herself for, the life she had lived, the life she had left behind and the life she had chosen to pursue. She remembered specifically being a child sitting in the palm of Izurdin's statue. She remembered a particular talk she had with her divine father through the grand marble construct and what she said to him that day.

Father, I heard something today I didn't quite like. Master Volunus told me that we were once the greatest people around. All races looked up to us for our strength and creativity. Our Kingdom was one of the largest in the whole world. But then he said that when the humans angered the gods, everyone suffered for it and our home was destroyed. I don't know what we did to also make you mad at us but I'm sorry. I know I wasn't alive then but I'm still sorry. I'll do anything to make you proud of us again and restore your faith in us. Just let me know.

As she began the Oath, tears streamed down Ialari's cheeks. Izurdin had finally let her know. The first words she spoke were more for those who she knew were out there somewhere, watching and waiting as well as for those who may be affected by what she was about to do though they may not know it yet.

"I stand before a grand audience,
upon a grand stage,
the living, unliving and the dead,
mortal and divine,
they all watch and wait for one moment,
for when two realms divided by greed,
Merge once more in Dominion.

I, Ialari Pythone Pitrius, am the vessel of this merging,
I have sacrificed my body and health,
I have sacrificed my strength and sanity,
I have sacrificed my blood and spirit,
I have sacrificed my soul.

All that remains is my faith and will to succeed,
for I am the creator,
and this is my Domain."

The Oath taken, Ialari then attempted to push away all other thoughts and clear her mind. Sleep deprivation was surprisingly helpful in this task as it was difficult to stay too focused on too much to begin with. Whether or not it was enough, she worked to remain calm and quiet while pushing her body yet a little further in order to stay conscious. She wasn't exactly sure what to expect next aside from the technical details provided by the scrolls.

[Tarot]

The Isur set herself to the final part of the task while Shalla retreated. "Been a long while since I tasted… well, just about anything. A long time indeed" was all she said to Ialari's proposal, but she did not sound like she was objecting to it. But there was no rest for the would-be Domineer; the nerve-wrecking part was only about to begin. Ialari recited her oath and infused it with memories from her childhood and thoughts of all she'd sacrificed on her path to power. The room accepted it all without a sound, seemingly uncaring. But once something was done in the world, there was no taking it back. It had happened, and the thread of causality only moved forward. Ialari then forced herself to relax on focus on more metaphysical thoughts. It wasn't easy, what with an overpowered psychopath out there looking for you and getting ever closer. Shalla watched attentively, but made no noise whatsoever and might as well not have been there. Her ghostly features gave no indication as to whether she believed, wondered, doubted, or despaired. The Isur didn't know how long she had been attempting to reach enlightenment in this fashion. There was no visible change as far as she knew… except the tiniest draft sweeping across the house and carrying the smells of wet plant life, deep and earthen. Definitely not a Nykan kind of smell. Shalla stirred. "Did the lines just… pulse or something?" It was barely noticeable, but the complex drawing had seemed to glow softly for an instant. Then it did it again, with more impetus this time. Like a slow heartbeat, steadily accelerating. It started to discharge static electricity with each tiny blast of power. The air started smelling like it does at the outset of a lightning storm. Light poured down the lines, filling them like blood vessels. The reaction seemed self-sustaining and swiftly accelerating to a point of no return. Forked beams of energy flashed through the room, making sounds like whips being cracked. Then there was a single, overpowering blast of blinding light that poured out of the door. And when the light subsided, Ialari was standing on the threshold to somewhere else. If it could even be called a place. Stretching out in front of the Isur was a twilight landscape under a blossoming carpet of unknown stars. Forest-covered hills gently rolling in the distance, grass swaying in the breeze, a thin silver mist embracing it all. Black shapes swam across the skies and the very ground seemed to subtly shift when you weren't looking at it. Ialari's Dominion had connected with what looked to be the edge of a deciduous wood at the base of the hills. "There! On your right!" Shalla pointed out in a rare loss of composure that turned out to be entirely justified. For, standing between two other trees, was some kind of ancient oak. A multitude of bodies were hanging from the limbs, their necks crushed by thick ropes. That in itself was creepy enough, but not necessarily otherworldly. But it didn't take Ialari very long at all to notice that the bodies all looked alike, and very familiar indeed. "It's you!?" If Ialari felt brave enough to cross into the Dominion and approach the tree, she would be able to confirm that yes, despite the onset of rot and decay, bulging the eyes and blackening the skin, the bodies all looked like her beyond every reasonable doubt. The tree bore the weight of at least fifty Isurian bodies with no apparent effort, which wouldn't have been possible anywhere in the world of things. But something else would become apparent to the young Isur: while the corpses hanging from the lowest branches were near-perfect matches of her appearance, including one with a crushed skull that was wearing identical clothes to her own, the ones hanging further up looked like they were older and more mature versions of herself. One with daggers protruding from the chest was wearing the attire of an instructor at the Silver Tower. Another looked like it had been drowned, another still seemed to have mutated as though it had been exposed to some hostile Djed or gnosis. One was missing entire chunks of meat that had been removed with surgical accuracy. The one on the treetop wasn't hanging. Instead, it appeared to be perched there, easy to mistake for a statue at first. Yet it was no statue, but yet another Ialari, only made of thinly veined onyx. That is to say, just like her blessed arm, except on her entire body. Sadly, if she tried to reach the tree, she would find an invisible wall blocking her advance before she could touch the bodies. It was something the scroll had warned her about; the Dominion always came with rigid limits to the greed of mortals. She could look, but not touch.

[Ialari Pythone]

Ialari's exhausted senses barely caught the shift in scents carried in on the tiny breeze. Having spent so much time awake surrounded by alien sights, sounds and smells, the moist odor that tickled the air reminded her a bit of home. When Shalla spoke up about activity in the drawn lines surrounding them, Ialari took closer note. She watched, unable to speak, as the room slowly filled with the unique hum of magical energy. Involuntarily, a slight smile crossed her lips before the entire room slowly began to crackle and snap with greater force. As the display of magical power reached its climax and exploded in a blinding punch of light, Ialari's hand shot up to shield her eyes but to no avail. Momentarily blinded, Ialari stood firm in the same spot until her vision started to clear.

The sight that greeted her, at least for the moment, muted her fatigue as a sense of profound wonder washed over her. Ialari took in as much of the landscape as possible. The strange stars above were so that she felt she could stare at them for days and never tire of it. The forested hills in the distance reminded her of the foothills of Sultros and the subtly shifting ground around her made her hesitant to take any steps forward. Of all the things she had experienced since leaving home, nothing compared for indeed her original quest for the unknown had taken a decisive turn.

Shalla suddenly broke Ialari's revelry of the sight before her and drew attention to something just a short distance away. The ancient oak tree baring a number of broken, rotting bodies sent a wracking shiver throughout Ialari's body and caused no small amount of pain from her torn muscles and bruised/broken bones. At Shalla's pronouncement of the sole identity of all of the bodies, Ialari felt drawn to finally take a step forward thus crossing into the Dominion.

Everything else around her faded into the background as she slowly approached the gruesome tree. Ialari could not help but look at each and every body; their tortured visages with signs of unimaginable mutilation, brought a bout or two of dry heaves as Ialari had little in her stomach to release. As strong-willed as she thought herself to be, Ialari wasn't prepared for such a sight. Yet she still couldn't help but look as her gaze moved up the tree. Though she couldn't find words to speak, her mind was racing. This time however, unlike before, her mental voice failed to taunt her instead it mirrored her terrified curiosity. A warning perhaps? A sign of what will befall you at any point in your future if you decide to walk the path of those before you? Or is it something else entirely?

Ialari's eyes finally rested on the figure perched atop the tree. She then looked down at her arm then back to the figure before taking another step forward toward the tree. Her advance was cut short by an invisible force. Then it began to dawn on her, the limitations of Dominion. From the scrolls and from Berliotz's own warped memories she recalled the troubles brought on by mortal greed in relation to Dominion. Perhaps it's a test? The tree stands there, taunting you, pushing you to expand your Domain in hopes of finding some answer to it all. You're already feeling it, the pull to grow your power if only to find out the meaning behind the tree. Then what? The tree may simply vanish only to appear again at the limits of your control. Leave it be for now. This isn't why you're here. Her own thoughts were actually trying to help her now however it really only served to confuse her more. Relenting, Ialari forced herself to step away from the invisible wall and strained her body to turn away from the tree. Despite the horrific sight now behind her, she felt more at peace in the strange place than she had in a very long time.

Time, it was something she had little of at the moment and peace was not something to be had without a price. As much as she wanted to immerse herself in her surroundings, she simply didn't have the time. There was still the matter of the mad ghost to attend to and a deal made with Death to fulfill. She made her way back to the doorway with a disturbing thought occurring to her. She didn't possess the skill to construct more than a single doorway into her Dominion and the one she did create opened from the outside. She briefly wondered if she could still pass back through the doorway as long as it remained open otherwise she would be trapped in the Ukalas without the skill to create another door. Her sleep-deprived mind struggled with the thought as she approached the doorway.

[Tarot]

To stand, alive and breathing, in the cosmic vastness of the Ukalas was no ordinary feat. The very air Ialari breathed felt different than anything she'd ever tasted before; a bit like fresh mountain air coming in from the filthiest sewers, perhaps. Everything was charged with possibility. Cause and effect were not set in stone. Before and after, left and right shifted with one's point of view. The self affected reality which in turn affected the self - like two mirrors reflecting each other without end. Hadn't the formula said so? "Up and down are the same..." It was like being in a dream you couldn't possibly explain without sounding silly to your own ears while awake, yet making perfect sense in its own self-contained reality. What if the gods could feel this way everywhere? The Isur needn't have worried about getting out, either. Once opened, the door would grant travel both ways - it simply couldn't be opened again from the Ukalas side if it ever closed. It would simply vanish, dooming the visitor to stay in this slice of elsewhere, possibly forever. The tree and its grisly decorations did not react to her in any way, merely rustling in the breeze. "So bitter is the root of knowledge, as the fruit is sweet," Shalla mumbled, quoting some ancient philosopher. "Still, I have heard of trees of life... but trees of death? Odd. Things really are upside down here." Just as Ialari crossed the threshold that led her back to Nyka, a heavy crashing sound was heard in the mansion. Downstairs, the door was easily ripped off its frame and flung across the room. The Isur had no need to see what was going on; the atmosphere changed suddenly, and she felt like she was in the Aperture again, though the madness in the air carried a sickly sweet scent, like something gone bad. An angry ghost was like a force field radiating its own twisted vision of the world for others to feel. It was strangely cold. Amir Berliotz's insanity slapped Ialari across the cheek well before a moan rose from the living room downstairs. "Tick, tock... tick, tock... time's running out... daddy's coming home... belt's already in his hand... you been naughty again haven't you?" The voice was somewhere in between a human's and Berliotz's ghostly one. It seemed to be getting closer. The staircase creaked as something took the first step up. "Ugly ugly ugly little Amir... With a face like that... You'll never amount to anything son... all you do is run and hide... come take my belt like a man..." Creak. Creak. Creak. Shalla whispered. "He seems to be coming apart at the seams. Maybe being denied Dominion did that to him? Or too many contradictions in his personality..." "No daddy..." the voice turned whiny and high-pitched now, "Look daddy, I learned a new face today. I'm not ugly anymore am I?" "No good..." the other, deeper voice said, "ugly. Ugly. Ugly. Your ugly can't be cured with just that... It'd take all the Ukalas, son, and then some... now. Here. Comes. The. BELT!" And with the final growl, the door of Ialari's room came down in a shower of splinters, revealing a dark silhouette of something barely human. How had Ialari prepared herself?

[Ialari Pythone]

Having left her Dominion in the Ukalas, Ialari fought the near overwhelming desire to return to it. The wonders; sights, smells, feeling and possibilities of the divine realm teased her senses in a way no drug could. It also created a powerful contrast against the mortal world. That contrast was further cemented by the sounds coming from the floor below. Before the sounds though, the sour smell and immediate onset of disturbing cold assaulted her already battered and exhausted being. The menacing voice that echoed throughout the building caused every hair on Ialari’s body to prickle. Though unnerved and shocked at all that she had witnessed thus far, she now felt truly afraid. If not for the past few days of focus and mental preparation, difficult as it was, she would have most certainly been paralyzed with said fear.

Steeling herself in a battle with the growing terror that threatened to ruin all that she had planned, Ialari immediately ran to the large mirror she had procured from another part of the house. Lifting it instead of dragging; the sound not something that would help at the moment; she quickly moved it into position in front of the Dominion doorway. All the while Berliotz’s voice penetrated every inch of the house as he seemed to relive torturous events of his childhood. Quickly, Ialari was able to piece together something of an outline of Berliotz’s story. Recalling the broken shards of the dead wizard’s memories, many of them began to solidify as she saw them through his eyes. Unfortunately, she wasn’t sure how much of it was actually Berliotz’s own memories or those stolen from the countless people he had tortured and destroyed in his search for Dominion.

An abusive father who hated his own life took out his anger upon his son. Seeing Amir as one of the causes for his misery, the father never ceased to break the child mentally and physically. Nothing Amir could do was ever good enough. Amir, though not really an ugly child, nonetheless fell victim to his father’s insults and displeasure. He would run and try to hide every time his father returned home. Unfortunately he was caught each time and beaten within an inch of his life. In his search to please his father, Amir discovered a natural talent for manipulating djed. This took the form of morphing which Amir used to change his appearance to appear less ugly to his father. This only served to enrage his father further. His father’s claim that it would take the Ukalas and then some to rid Amir of his ugliness was the obvious moment that sowed the seeds for seeking out Dominion.

The memories shattered again as quickly as they had solidified and Ialari was left only with the feeling that Amir had eventually done something quite horrific in an act of vengeance against his father. It was then she caught Shalla’s whispers about Berliotz coming apart at the seams and the continued cries of the mad ghost below that cleared her sleepless mind. Berliotz was coming up the stairs, the moment was upon them.

Ialari motioned for Shalla to hide and then dashed to the nearby room where she took up position. She stood just out of sight in a way that her reflection would be caught by the mirror. She and Shalla had laid out the positioning of the mirror earlier so that it would catch Ialari’s reflection just right so that to someone of diminished mental capacity and perception, she would appear as though she was standing between the door to the stairs and the door to her Dominion.

In the last few seconds before the stairway door exploded, Ialari quickly whispered out a string of prayers. “Divine father, my strength in your name, bless me. Revered Uncle, the sickness of my opponent I offer to you, feast upon it and acknowledge me. Mistress of Death, the soul of Amir Berliotz, Master Morpher and Wizard of the Seven Robes I offer to you, favor me.”

The door exploded and the outline of the ghostly horror that was Amir Berliotz stood in its place.

Pouring quite literally the last reserves of willpower and strength into what she had to do, Ialari’s stood strong and proud as did her reflection in the mirror. For the moment, there looked to be no weakness, no pain, no fatigue. She stared defiantly at the dark form filling the stairway. With her metallic fist clenching the scrollcase, she looked ever so slightly to the side of Berliotz as to not focus too much on whatever gruesome visage glared back. “Amir, Amir, you’ve definitely been very bad. And ugly, so so ugly. Indeed it would take all the Ukalas to fix you. Here it is, Amir. Here is the Ukalas. It’s long past time you come and take what’s coming to you.” Ialari’s reflection held out the scrollcase and waited for what happened next. Her breath was shallow and she hoped that her words would bite deep. She played upon his crippling insanity while offering that which what little sanity remained would recognize. Hopefully, his crazed attention would remain on the scrollcase and the idea of Ialari being the source of his newest failure.

[Tarot]

The figure stepped out into the dim light of the room, still dressed as a monk of Nyka... at least on the surface. It was barefooted, the skin now ashen and marred with wriggling grave worms. Amir Berliotz hadn't recovered at all - on the contrary, his condition had been worsening steadily. If his soul had split upon death as a coping mechanism of sorts, then no matter how badly he might have wanted to be reunited, it would only result in disaster. The monk's hood fell back on his shoulders, revealing a deformed head in which bloodshot human eyes were floating freely. The mouth was circular and leaked vile fluids on the floor below. Instead of a nose, a mere opening into the head. His cheekbones had pierced the skin like blades. Bugs had nested in what was left of his hair. "I... am... not... uglyyyyy!" he screeched at the word, his head still morphing as he emitted the sound. He grew a snout and fangs. A dead hand dropped to the floor, only to be replaced by a lump of muddy, liquid meat. His eyes took in Ialari's reflected figure and the scroll tube. He seemed to remember both things very well, for he howled then. Every window in the house was shattered (the owner had been rich enough to afford glass windows) and even the mirror cracked at the power of his inhuman voice. Such phenomena were exactly why a night curfew existed in Nyka. Still, many a Nykan woke up in a sweat that night and prayed that their house's painted wards would be strong enough to withstand the evil that stalked the darkness. What Ialari hadn't anticipated was that her strategy might prove too successful. Berliotz had lost it completely. "Give me Dominion give me Dominion give me give me give me give me..." He moved a step towards the mirror, and as he did his body began to bloat. His torso swelled first, as if suddenly filled with gas. Then his limbs followed suit, looking like someone were pumping air into him. There was no finesse about this, just an immense display of instinctual magic. The animal reflex of looking as large as possible in front of an enemy. Only, he was taking it to the horrid extreme of unlimited growth. "Give me give me give me!" He howled at the reflection in the mirror, which he was now looking down on. Once his height reached eight feet, he bumped into the ceiling, his clothes torn and discarded - his nudity consisted of countless folds of decaying fat with the occasional green-rotted bone jutting from the meat. He fell to his knees from the sheer lack of space. He took a clumsy swing at the mirror with a tray-sized slab of flesh that had once been a hand, shattering the thing in one blow. He wounded himself in the process, gallons of pus deflating the arm momentarily as they oozed all over the place but making the scene no prettier at all. Berliotz's massive, screaming bulk was already pressing against two walls and would soon crush Ialari against the opposite corner of the room as well. The ceiling creaked under the pressure of his growth, debris and sawdust raining all over. This was the power of one of the Seven Robes, with no direction at all, like a toddler toying with a loaded crossbow. He bent his massive lump of a body forward, his huge head ramming the Dominion's door and smashing it open. The otherworldly light of the Ukalas streamed into the mansion, drawing Berliotz's attention. "Give me give me give me..." he raged, basically unable to move under his own weight. "He's stuck, he's petching stuck," Shalla hissed. Berliotz's head had made it through the doorway, but if the head alone was almost as large as the doorway there was little hope of getting the rest of the body past the threshold in this state. And the house groaned with the mad ghost's struggling against the walls and ceiling. The architect clearly hadn't designed it to withstand something quite like this.

[Ialari Pythone]

Ialari, while trying to keep from looking too closely at the twisted form, could not help but look. In but a short time, the body the dead wizard had taken had rotted at an unnatural pace and the diseased spirit that was Amir Berliotz was spilling out of every possible point. Instead of trying to look away anymore, Ialari shifted her gaze directly to Amir and forced herself to see the result of a broken mind and body, ravaged by spiritual decay and consumed by undying rage and yearning. Her inner voice returned. This could be you. Consumed by hatred, unable to let it go you will become just like this. Ialari shook the thoughts away as Berliotz howled in anger at her taunts. Her plan was working well so far. She played on her opponents weaknesses while at the same time keeping his focus on the perceived prize. At the monster's hollow, otherworldly howl shattered the windows and shook the walls, Ialari grimaced hard as she resisted the desire to cup her hands to her ears.

It was then that Ialari realized immediately that her plan had taken a turn for the unexpected. She watched with fading hope as Berliotz moved to the mirror, his rapidly bloating body continuing to expand at an alarming pace. Reaching the mirror, Berliotz unleashed his anger upon it. Ialari was suddenly filled with a feeling that she hadn't truly realized even after all she had been through up until that point, fear. She had worked sleeplessly for days to prepare the trap only to watch all of it now shatter along with the mirror.

The bloated monster now threatened to crush Ialari either with its own rotting mass or by bringing the entire house down upon them all. She could see and hear the splintering wood of the walls, floor and ceiling as Berliotz's size and weight were becoming too much for the structure to contain. The terrible magical power still held, barely, within the diseased being that was Amir Berliotz could be felt washing over Ialari like the fluids that dribbled, squirted and poured from the sickened flesh of her opponent. Then, in his flailing, Berliotz smashed open the door to Ialari's Dominion. From within, the Ukalas was revealed. Now, only able to stick his head through the door, Ialari was given the briefest of moments to think as Berliotz's attention was fully set on his prize.

"He's stuck, he's petching stuck," Ialari heard Shalla hiss. Ialari brought her hand to her forehead as if it would help her think more clearly about the situation. She had come so far, went through so much, only to have it end like this; crushed by the weight of an insane, diseased nuit/ghost completely consumed by the desire for the Ukalas. She had endured so much, given so much for the gods whom she sought guidance from. She had done things she detested for the sake of a greater goal. The gods even granted her the secrets of Dominion only for her to now end up there, in that house, so close to such a terrible end. Why? Why would they allow this all to happen? Why would they reward me with Dominion only to snatch it away so soon? I've done this all for my people, for the gods, none of it for myself. Why would... A strange realization dawned on her. Ialari had always told herself that everything she did was for her people and for the gods. She told herself she would willingly sacrifice all that she was for them. Words however were one thing, action was something completely different. With that realization came a moment of clarity for Ialari.

She looked at Berliotz's absurdly massive, disturbingly grotesque form. It was bloated and infected, diseased and sickened. Her prayer moments before came to mind. "Revered Uncle, the sickness of my opponent I offer to you, feast upon it and acknowledge me." Her opponent was now sickness and disease incarnate, unable to move and offering a perfect target.

"Mistress of Death, the soul of Amir Berliotz, Master Morpher and Wizard of the Seven Robes I offer to you, favor me." Her prayer to Dira had been answered in the form of Berliotz's head now past the Dominion door and his momentum to follow. In that she saw how Berliotz would finally die.

"Divine father, my strength in your name, bless me". Ialari pulled her hand from her forehead and gazed upon its black, metallic surface. Her arm, her connection to Izurdin, in it was all the strength she would need.

It was not enough to simply find Berliotz and gain the secrets of Dominion. It wasn't enough to claim the willingness to sacrifice oneself for what they believed in. Ialari now saw that such a gift, such a sacrifice on the part of the gods to impart a mortal with such a blessing, required an equal sacrifice in turn. She had to follow through with her claim. With Berliotz's attention solely locked on entering the Ukalas through the Dominion door, Ialari took a few steps toward him while raising her fist. She then tried something she knew to never have been attempted before by one of her race, at least not in recent history. Ialari bypassed the normal preparation process and called upon her mark to Izurdin thus invoking Izentor. Usually such a thing was done at a much slower pace by someone who had prepared themselves for the splitting of their soul in order to impart a piece of themselves upon an object. What Ialari was attempting was quite different and she wasn't sure it would even work. She was attempting to impart something of herself upon another being. Added to that, she had only the first mark of the Divine Father thus normally, no matter what she tried to impart, the result was always the same. She prayed that just this once, it would be different.

Her fist raised, she invoked her mark. As she did, her body jerked hard with the force of the activation. The divine marks on her arm ignited and a powerful glow of chromatic energy engulfed her entire arm; bathing the immediate area with swirling red, green and blue light. Having not taken the time to prepare; a process that usually took hours and sometimes even longer, she could barely contain the force though her recent experiences with such things had toughened her a bit. Still, her body was failing and as she stepped she staggered and was almost unable to right herself. Her mind began to lose focus and her vision started to blur. These were the signs of danger taught to every isur as soon as they were old enough to impart. The imparting process was to never be rushed else one could destroy themselves even from the smallest transfer of essence into an object. Pushing onward, Ialari moved but a few steps although it felt as though she had traveled many miles. As she swung, her fist flew through the air leaving trails of chromatic energy in its wake. Behind the fist, Ialari sacrificed a bit of herself as she had before when using Izentor. This time however, she sacrificed the very thing that had driven her thus far; the only thing other than her faith that she wrapped herself in each night. Ialari let go of her hatred.

As her fist came into contact with Berliotz, Ialari closed her eyes and though hopeful, accepted whatever happened next. She hoped that she was right and that Izurdin had indeed accepted her sacrifice and blessed her. She hoped that her sacrifice was enough and that the force of her strike would damage Berliotz in a way similar yet greater than what happened when the mirror shard pierced his arm. If the impact was enough, perhaps it would release the hulking creature and with its crazed momentum, send the monster diving into the Ukalas and into the open arms of Death.

[Tarot]

Shalla could do nothing but stare helplessly. Her ghostly powers made her an even better spy than before, but were ill-suited for a major physical confrontation. Right now she entirely depended on Ialari to fulfill their end of the bargain with Dira. She did not doubt that, if the Isur failed, her own ethereal existence would not outlast her companion's bodily one by a large margin. The goddess of death did not take lightly to oath-breakers. But what could Ialari do now? She was tired, wounded, and even at the best of times a pure world mage - a 'half-baked' mage, as they were disparaged within wizardry circles. Yet Shalla was eternally a follower, not a leader. She'd worked for too many employers to count. She'd served Mashaen as well, but he couldn't lead her well because she couldn't relate to him at all. She could, strangely, relate to Ialari Pythone, whom she'd first encountered on the wrong end of a torture session. They were both creatures of pride and reflection, who eschewed social niceties in the pursuit of an ultimate goal. They didn't have hearts of gold, but they did what they could in a world gone mad. And so, when Ialari's arm began to glow with chromatic power - something she'd only read about in a textbook - and she got a glimpse of what the Isur was going to do, all she said was, "You... you can do this, Ialari." Power coursed through her blessed arm with a painful sense of rushed release. Even when faced with the hopelessness of her task, she did not abandon hope. The disgusting coils of meat that made up Berliotz's morphed body were so huge they looked impossible to seriously damage with anything short of a siege engine or at least the biggest battle ax on the market. But Ialari charged up her Izentor and turned her prayers to the gods. Then she delivered a single blow empowered with the single-minded hatred that had been driving her all along. Time stopped for an instant halfway through. She felt that strange sensation again, just like her first evening in Nyka, when Izurdin had stood beside her for a moment. She was aware of a warm hand on her shoulder. She felt renewed strength trickle down from her shoulder all the way to her finger. It brought relief to her aching joints, and left her with a sense of overflowing determination. Then everything resumed all of a sudden, and her hand made contact with Berliotz's body. Something like an explosion took place, a bright flash and the roar of thunder. She was knocked back by the powerful recoil, but the target fared much worse. The punch dug a one-foot hole through twelve feet of rotting fat and ripped the head off the body. The head rolled into the Dominion. The body was thrown with incredible violence against the side wall, which couldn't take it. The wall came apart in a shower of bricks and blocks of pink margble that poured on the overlooking street. Berliotz's decapitated body flew outside and fell flat in the middle of the street now awash in an impossible amount of festering pus. There'd be commotion when the monks found the gargantuan body, but not hysteria - for stranger things had happened in the Nykan night. The monks would certainly take the credit for slaying yet another menace to the city and then dump it into the Aperture from whence it had come. When the dust settled, Ialari could see the head still rolling on the grass of her Dominion. It was still morphing, indicating that Berliotz's soul was in there. Tiny feet sprouted from the neck, and the head managed to get up in a rather comical way. "Dominion dominion dominion..." it slurred, taking a few awkward steps as it looked around. It hit something and fell backwards, unnaturally large eyes staring up at the sky. And locking in on the woman in black he'd just bumped into. While of average height, she looked terrifyingly big as she loomed over his fallen form. "Hello," said Dira, "and farewell." Two jackals - real jackals this time, one snow white and one pitch black, flanked her slim figure. She looked just like she had at the infirmary, but in the Ukalas she was... more. No-one would mistake her for a mortal here. She existed in more dimensions than the mortal eye could catch, and the very geometry of space was skewed and warped ever so slightly around her. Berliotz backpedaled uselessly; the jackals snarled at him and pinned him down with no effort at all. Dira bent over him and plunged her immaculate hand into his disgusting form. The dead wizard screamed then, and began to transform again, but this time the metamorphosis was no work of his. He shrunk like snow melting in the sun, turning jet back and shiny like metal. Smoke rose with his screams, until he had no more mouth to scream with, but Ialari suspected he retained his consciousness every step of the way. When Dira was done with him, she picked up a small black coin from the ground, still steaming from whatever process it'd gone through. "For someone who did nothing but use others like currency, it is only fitting that you spend a few centuries as an ashl coin yourself. On the bright side, you are now worth three Mizas, which is a definite improvement." She pocketed the coin that had been Amir Berliotz and looked at Ialari Pythone with a half-smile playing on her lips. The jackals relaxed on the grass. "That is some nice tattooing you got there, Ialari." She was referring, of course, to the second mark of Izurdin radiating from her shoulder all the way to the elbow, where the warm hand had touched her.

[Ialari Pythone]

As the familiar feeling returned, Ialari couldn't help but remember for but an instant, the first time she sat in the hands of the statue of Izurdin when she was a child. As with then although infinitely more pronounced, worry and pain was washed away and her mind cleared. Everything slowed down around her. The Divine Father was with her, she recognized his presence and knew his touch. She also felt her own poisoned hatred exiting her body as though she were vomiting forth a meal of bad meat. In its place, she was overfilled with focus and resolve. She actually found herself almost smiling as the moment finally passed and her fist slammed into Berliotz. The following explosion and resulting shockwave almost felt good to Ialari. She had restrained herself for more days than she chose to count. Her body, her thoughts, her fears, her hatred, she had kept it all together by force of will alone. Now that she was able to let it all go, slamming into a wall and being blinded by bright light, deafened by thunderous booming and choked by dust and debris didn't feel as bad as she thought it might.

When things began to settle, Ialari picked herself up from where she had soundly landed on her rear end. She coughed out chunks of blackened dust-mud and tried, with little success, to wipe some of the remains of Berliotz from her robes. The massive hole in the side of the mansion wasn't something easily missed and a quick glance outside revealed one part of the aftermath of Ialari's strike. As bad as the inside of the building looked, the street below looked much worse. Turning away from the hole, Ialari could see the extensive damage to the upper level of the mansion left it in a state of questionable safety. It then dawned on her that something was missing from the gore outside. Her head turned to her Dominion and the second part of the aftermath.

Ialari was immediately filled with a mixture of relief and disbelief. The sight of Berliotz's head rolling on the grass while continuing its morphing brought a short, hard sigh spitting from Ialari's mouth. "What does it take to kill this thing," she thought to herself. The feet sprouting from the severed neck that allowed it to right itself followed by its ability to still speak was slightly amusing to her. "Just die already," she said bluntly.

It was then that Berliotz's head ran into something that hadn't been there a second before. Both the disembodied head and Ialari looked in unison at the woman in black that was simply there where she wasn't before. Recognizing the figure who appeared to her after the first encounter with Berliotz, Ialari was, in no small way, struck with a bit of awe at seeing the goddess in a less muted way. Being the presence of the divine, even as often as Ialari had in recent days, still left her gentle trembling. The feeling of wings fluttering in her gut tickled in a slightly uncomfortable way. Ironically, it was when Dira spoke that Ialari's attention turned from the goddess to the two forms next to her. Ialari had seen drawings of jackals once as a child yet this was the first time that she had ever saw anything close to those drawings in the flesh. The feeling she got when looking at them though was unsettling though she silently admitted to herself their odd beauty.

Ialari stood silently, viewing the event transpire as the contrast between the side of the doorway in which she stood and the side where Berliotz now faced Death caused her to keep focus in her Dominion. When she tried to look at both worlds at the same time, it gave her an intense yet temporary headache. "Ugh, this is going to take some getting used to."

As the jackals snarled then quickly and soundly restrained Berliotz, Ialari wanted to smile but couldn't. She thought before all of this that she would be happy to see Berliotz die. Yet now as it happened before her eyes, she felt pity. "If I had lived his life, would I've been any different?" Berliotz's cries as Dira harvested him, would echo in Ialari's mind for a long time to come. As his remains began to shrink and seemingly melt inward, smoke rising, Ialari couldn't help but note what was left; the jet black, metallic form drew her eyes to the silhouette of the grisly tree not much further away and to the black form that perched above. Turn her attention back to Dira, Ialari raised an eyebrow at the small black coin in the goddess' hand. When Dira turned her own focus to Ialari, the isur felt somewhat insignificant; a feeling she couldn't help while at the same time not really wanting to try.

When the goddess spoke, her words turned Ialari's head to the side. Lifting her arm slightly, Ialari looked to where her first mark had been etched across the surface of her arm. At the sight of that mark now enhanced with sharp, perfect angles, flawless curves and precise, deliberate designs stretching from her shoulder to her elbow, Ialari's eyes filled with tears. She caressed the mark with her off hand and tilted her head to kiss her shoulder on the same spot where Izurdin had touched her. Remembering herself, Ialari wiped her eyes, righted herself and looked back to Dira. After clearing the growing lump in her throat, the taste of foulness still present, Ialari spoke clearly yet with a bit of reverence in her tone as she acknowledged the goddess' remark, "Thank you Milady and hope you're pleased with my gift. Also, if I may, have I proven you wrong?". Of course she meant no defiance with her words and she hoped Dira was pleased enough with Berliotz's soul not to take offense. Ialari couldn't afford the time to dwell on what she said since after all, it was Dira who tasked Ialari to prove her wrong.

Ialari could only imagine how she must have appeared to the goddess. Her robes were torn and barely hanging in places; she would likely have to replace them. Her blonde hair was more than a mess with all manner of foul stickiness causing terrible matting. Her skin was covered in drying puss and rotted blood with her newly marked arm absent of anything but a metallic sheen accented by the glinting of raised silver veins. Though Izurdin's touch had refreshed her and the pain and fatigue gone for the moment, she still had a hard time standing straight and the damage was obvious to anyone looking at her.