[Blue Horizon] Fragments and Findings (Ulric)

[Gossamer]

In the course of history, perhaps no one had ever listened to Ulric speak with such intensity as the God before him did. His eyes were like diamonds, the pupils white as he listened not only to the fragments the young man before him spoke of - dead gods, chained gods, mortally wounded gods, world destruction and rebirth, and having no true place - and took them all in. Ulric could sense he was not only hearing the words Ulric was saying but seeing the possibilities and pathways buried within them. At one point in the conversation, when Ulric muttered Desanks name, the little gasvik sprung neatly from Xhyvas' shoulder to Ulrics where it wrapped a seemingly newly formed tail around Ulrics throat like an Isurian Steel necklace to hold itself in place gently. It watched Xhyvas from there with hungry eager eyes, as if glad to see someone he considered long gone and having mourned. Xhyvas was silent a great long while after Ulric was done speaking, and gestured suddenly for Ulric to follow him. Together they turned, the huge pair of Gasvik following them, and walked down a long black corridor into another room that was primarily comprised of a balcony that seemed to overlook the roof of the world. They were high in the mountains, and although it was summer by the heat in the air, there was still snow tucked into the shadows. The vista that spread out from the enormous pillared balcony was incredible. Mountains flowed westward down to the sea. In the distance a fire burned in high timber but even as Ulric spotted it, he knew somehow that it would only burn a short while unless more lightening fed it in the night. Everywhere he looked - possibilities opened up and ways to overcome them. He could even feel potential oozing from the marble under his feet and in the very air touching his face and in the wind rifling his hair. Xhyvas smiled. "I can only hope one day, Ulric, you will look upon something you've created as I look upon you and see your own cleverness as I see my own in your eyes. Death, while not the end, should come when one chooses it. It should never come unexpected or unwelcome. Not, especially, when one is a God. There is always the possibility of death. Each God or Goddess I interact with wears their masque of immortality only thinly. It does not surprise me that Aquiras is as good as slain, that Sylir is dead, and Ivak chained. But oh how the world must suffer from these things, and not even know it." He shook his head, looking out over the vast expanse finding the sea at least in the far distance. "When I look at you I know I did the right thing. Sometimes your greatest achievement is your last one, but seeing you I know that is not true. We are the same, Ulric, though you do not know it and are not awakened. Why you are here is yet another question. I suspect Tanroa is meddling again, though she swears to the world and through time she only guards it not dips into it. We all know the inaccuracy in that statement, however." He said, turning to look at Ulric again. "You are not something good. No. Never that. Nor will you ever walk among Rhysol's kin. LIght can not illuminate you, Ulric, nor can darkness devour you. Like me, you walk in the shadows touching both but part of neither. We are the same because we are each other. You have just not awakened your full potential yet, Ulric, and until you do every godling around craving ancient power will see you and what you house within yourself as a quick trip upwards in rank. I am not the least of the Gods, Ulric. And all that I am is within you, stored in your blood, for such a time as I will be needed again. It's a neat way to escape death, burying your essence in a bloodline, but it changes you too. For when you reach for me and awaken me, I will no longer be what I am here standing before you. I will be what you make of me because my experiences then will be yours and that which I am now will be only a kin to a memory - useful - but not required. I am staring into the eyes of my younger self, decades earlier and far into the future. It is disconcerting, Ulric. You are so unprepared and so naive. And if anyone ever realizes what exactly you are they will not rest until they take your power and everything that you are for themselves. And make no mistake. Gods devour Gods all the time. And it is easier, far far easier, in a world that is already unbalanced like your own is. Even mortals can take it, Ulric, and will want too. It's a vulnerability I would have anticipated, yet one I could not avoid. I must have trusted you to choose your companions and actions wisely and your pathways with care. Still, one little hungry newborn is already sniffing at your offal. Worrisome, indeed." He paused then, speaking softly, as the Gasvik flanking all of them moved together for a quiet discourse. One turned, leaped off the rampart-like wall that separated the outdoor room from the sudden drop and soared outward. It looked almost zith-like though its skin was a fine mercury and its face wholly inhuman. The other remained at Xhyvas' side as the one winging its way around the parameter seemed to take a patrol. "As for what must you do - what can you do - the answer is simple. Survive. You won't die, Ulric, not of natural aging. Too much within you is awakened. I do not know if it is because you live in such interesting times or if it is the companions you keep. I am already over half awake in you, lying still and blinking into the darkness like a sleeper finding themselves in unfamiliar surroundings taking a moment to get his bearings. And recently too, unless I miss my mark. You will know, once the sleeper is fully awake, all that I know unless I thought that unwise when I wrought what I did to create you. It is the future for me, and the possibilities spread out. It is the past for you so we are oddly disjointed in this time and place. You'll definitely need to survive. You are vulnerable until you rise into your full power. And there are those out there that will feast on your essence and think nothing of destroying what I've crafted so carefully. I wonder too what came to pass that caused such a need to arise. Something threatened. Something big. But then again in every age there is destruction and rebirth - it is a process that forges the world, Ulric." The god said, shaking his head. And while Ulric couldn't see it, not yet, he could sense inherently that Xhyvas was gazing outward, mind full of possibilities, weeding through them trying to pinpoint what was coming and why. Did Ulric's arrival here spur the God to weaving himself an escape from something the god hadn't seen coming? Was it truly just a coincidence that Ulric was here? Was Ulric saving himself, in the past, from certain death in the future? Xhyvas laughed suddenly, delightedly, and shook his head. "We outsmarted them all, Ulric, regardless of who it as or why it happened. You exist. Thus I live. They can all go bury themselves in the Ukalas for all the success they had with their plan. You do not need to be warned and I certainly doubt knowing myself as I do that I would take suggestions from a long dead god on staying alive. You've already managed quite nicely for yourself. And as for the Godling toying with you... she'd probably piss herself if she knew what you really were. I'll look forward to being you seeing that happen." He said with mirth dancing in his eyes. Obviously, he'd seen something, a stronger thread in the weave of what should be, and was holding onto it and examining it for all it was worth. Ulric could almost sense it - not quite - but almost.. and was strangely reassured himself.

[Ulric]

Ulric followed Xhyvas to the balcony, again savoring this inkling of what it meant to be a god. He liked seeing things and realizing their potential. He liked being able to consider the range of possibilities that existed around him, yet for some reason he did not feel the slightest bit powerful. On the ship, when his latent ability had manifested for a brief moment, he’d realized something deeply important about himself – that he did not desire power. He knew there were always consequences. Xhyvas’ legacy might, in good time, allow him to change the world for the better. But he would always be responsible to those he helped. They would come to him with increasing demands. Then there were those that would try to destroy him, to take and twist his power for their own purposes. The thought evoked a deep fear within him, much fiercer than anything he had felt before. He’d spent his most of his life looking over his shoulder, somehow feeling that he was being hunted, yet only now did it make sense. Peering over the vast mountains, he breathed deeply, closing his eyes as he recalled the snowy winter’s night when his foster mother had regaled him with the tale of Sagallius. Her words were broken, more legend than truth in his opinion, but he’d developed a vivid image of the puppeteer during those lingering bells spent in front of the fire. The wizard had shed his mortality to become a god. That was a clear sign of insanity, for only a lunatic would desire to be a god. The mantle must be crushing, what with the demands and the burden of giving. Did prayers really compensate for that? Sylir had given everything, had sacrificed his very existence to save the world, and for what? The greedy gods kept taking. The others kept giving. Ulric opened his eyes, realizing the answer to his question. He was meant to reawaken the realm of possibility, to mend the cracks of the world. He needed to become Xhyvas Reborn. Xhyvas seemed amused by his unexpected presence, but the god also spoke gravely, explaining the perils that he would face for the rest of his – apparently eternal – existence. Ulric bowed his head, considering the inherent curse of immortality, yet he perked up at the mention of Tanroa. If Xhyvas’ suspicions were correct, and the goddess of time had allowed him passage here, then perhaps she was a friend to their cause. Idle speculation wasn’t enough to convince him, though. He’d been bred to distrust, which was perhaps why he’d survived this long. By Xhyvas was right. He was naïve, and weak as well. He didn’t have anybody to watch his back, save for Torc, Sharn, and Desank. Ulric stared at Xhyvas, listening to the god speak. He’d been intimidated at first, but the force of their connection had quelled his palpable fears. Now he was not wary, but entranced by the god that stood before him. Xhyvas had much to say. Ulric followed his words intently, knowing they could prove critical in the days and years to come, that this meeting would be their last. He desperately wanted to go back and seek the Windoak’s counsel, but their course was set. Glav needed to get to Wind Reach, and Ulric would never break his oath to protect the priest-who-was-not-a-priest, not even if he had to fight an entire army. Xhyvas had said that it was his responsibility to shape the future, and he’d rather be slain than become another Rhysol, thriving on deceit and betrayal. “Yes, I suppose we did outsmart them all,” he said with the shadow of a smile, “Despite the death of what we once were. We have endeavored to travel across the face of the world, placing ourselves in great peril, but perhaps that is for the best. Even gods cannot hide forever. My father once told me the tale of a king who kept fortifying his keep, even as his enemies penetrated further into his kingdom. He feared his army was not large enough to prevail against them, so instead he convinced himself that he could hold out forever. He ended up starving to death during the siege. It was inevitable.” Ulric chuckled. “Inevitability is something that I will not tolerate. It would be easy to conceal myself in the shadows, fleeing at the sound of every broken twig, but that I will not do. I do not see all the possibilities yet, but I see many. It is sometimes safer to walk into danger than away from it. It is not always power that wins the day, but unpredictability. It is impossible to defend against the dagger that you do not see. I know little of the perils that await me, but I will learn, and seek wisdom from my mistakes.” “We will survive, Xhyvas, because they do not understand that we are both hunted and hunter.” He patted Desank again, wondering if there were other gasviks scattered across the world. He would have to find them.

[Gossamer]

Xhyvas nodded, listening carefully to Ulric's words. "Indeed. You are more right than you know. One of possibility seems to indicate that there was a need for this rebirth in me - for this transformation - for you are not as I am. You are something different, something more suited to the world as it is in your time. Here, I am just an observer and someone who understands what he sees. There, I suspect, you must be an activist. Such roles are ill suited to me. You will do far better." He added, turning to look at Ulric. He reached out his hand then and touched the gasvik on his right. The large creature nodded, hissed something in a language Ulric had heard before from his own. The God answered him and the Gasvik turned to Ulric, bowed, and then seized him by the waist and shoulders. "It's time you went back. Lingering here does the world no good and just feeds my curiosity to ask you more about things I have no business contemplating. Kavikasisa will drop you off in the River of Time. I'll trust Tanny to get you back to where you belong." He said, reaching out and squeezing Ulric's shoulder briefly. The Gasvik surged upwards, wings snapping open, and labored upwards wings beating heavily. The second gasvik joined them while the one already wrapped around Ulric's neck hung on. He was skyhigh in no time the air icy and chilled. Then, suddenly, the Gasvik tucked his wings, dropped, and the air around them warmed. The landscape went away in a blur and turned into a rainbow hued mesmerizing lack of details. Before Ulric knew it, he was released and let drop, splashing into waters that were both warm and cold, fast flowing and stagnant. He dropped like a rock, all the air robbed out of his body until his feet touched wood. There was pop, as if all the water around him was contained in a bubble, and it fell from its suspension around him. Ulric found himself with his little gasvik sprawled on the deck of the Blue Horizon, soaking wet, with an enormous wave of water washing from around him soaking everything and anything in the vicinity. His vision was still unhinged, threads stretching everyhere, and he saw the potential in the water of the River of Time, leaking away from him rapidly across the deck. It could freeze time or speed time and it did so as it stabilized on the deck spreading outward, rapidly evaporating as it hit the heat of the Suvan Sea.

[Ulric]

Ulric raised an eyebrow. Few people, or even gods, ever told him that he was right, so he wasn’t certain what to say. “I’m ready,” was the only response he could muster before his gaze was drawn to the towering Gasvik. He couldn’t keep from frowning when it hissed, and when it reached for him, he nearly backed away. He would have backed away from its grasp if it hadn’t been so damned quick. “Not yet – please, not yet,” he said, a trace of panic in his voice, but the protest died in his mouth. Xhyvas would not grant him any secrets. He was on his own. Resigned to this fate, he clenched his teeth when the god reached for his shoulder, offering a slight nod, and then the greater creature, Kavikasisa, was carrying him upwards, great wings beating heavily. Ulric couldn’t keep from gaping at the beauty of the skyscape, his fear swiftly receding to wonder as even the largest peaks vanished through a pale shroud of mist. Then the world seemed to burst. He couldn’t keep track of what was happening around him, but he felt a flutter in his gut that spread to his groin as the wind rushed past his face and through his hair, numbing his face within the span of a few moments. Then he was sucking in a mouthful of water. “Glurb glom!” He tried to speak, a stream of bubbles bursting from his mouth as water poured down his frantic throat. He flailed with his arms and legs, trying to swim to the surface, but before he could get his bearings he was cast down on something solid. “Urf!” He grunted as the impact drove both water and air from his lungs. He curled up, more dazed than hurt, and closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, he saw that he was sprawled on the deck of a ship – the Blue Horizon, he thought with a grateful gasp, his wits returning. Desank was beside him. Ulric reached out and took the Gasvik in his arms, cradling it against his chest as he rose to his knees. He glanced around, saw the water gushing over the sides of the ship, to mingle with that of the sea. Xhyvas had left him. Tanroa had left him. Any yet, Ulric was not alone.