« on: January 14, 2015, 05:09:41 AM »
This is what I was working on a while back for Lightmare. This is why I get sad at the Sol hate and people saying he is a warmonger. I understand no-one but me knows of this, so i'm sharing it now to hopefully share the view of Sol I have.
Keep in mind, this is unfinished. The red bits haven't been edited and don't read as smoothly as I would like, with a whole important section flat out missing (I cannot for the life of me write action. My forte is interpersonal relationships. Something I should work on, I know). But I still am happy enough with it, and think its important enough for lore buffs to share it.
And my usual disclaimer of no longer being cannon still stands. I know Lightmare has changed much about the Overseers.
The angel stood a constant vigil over the reality known as Avarrach. He saw wonders and miracles that could only be achieved by humanity. He loved the Infinite Realms, the myriad of possibilities, the unyielding spirit of humanity.
Sol felt a kinship to humans that other angels did not understand. For the most part, humans were ignored, taken for granted. All that mattered to the others was the war against Torment. An endless, pointless war. No matter who Sol was, he always resented the war. So much time fighting the Demons and he had no idea why. A war between two immortal races. The definition of futility.
But humans… Sol was fascinated with the way humans lived their incredibly short lives. Some built empires that stood hundreds of years. Some devoted their lives to the study of a single pursuit. Some created families and provided. Each and every human had their own interests and motivations.
And every human felt emotion. It baffled Sol that the angels did not take a more active interest in humans and their emotions. For whenever these emotions were felt strongly enough, the angels were born. Sol himself was a physical embodiment of curiosity. It was his nature to question things, understand their importance and place in the world. It was this that lead him to his interest in the Infinite Realities. He wanted to know what reality he had come from.
And so he found Avarrach. A mighty metropolis of scientific triumph and glory. This reality had a short period of Calamity, and had recovered quickly. The event remained fresh in their minds and history, and so magic was forbidden to prevent anything like it happening again. In it’s absence, the populace looked to science to make their lives richer, and the world he saw before him was born.
“They call you the Overseer, you know?”. Sol turned around and watched Azael walk toward him. She looked like a statue come to life, pure ivory that moved with impossible grace. He sensed her smiling at him, an act that disturbed him slightly. Azael was an Archangel, a manifestation of incomparable power. She grew no hair on her head and her face was featureless except for two eyes that glowed an intense blue. Sol couldn’t help but think of a human saying on one of the realities. ’To look upon an Archangel is to know Courage. To have an Archangel look upon you is to know fear’. But Sol never felt that. He felt nothing but warmth and devotion from his oldest friend.
“Who does?” He opened his arms to embrace his friend, a custom he picked up from the humans. It was not common practice in Solace, but Azael indulged him.
“The others. Your absence from the battlefields and drills does not go unnoticed. I tell them you have my pardon, but there is a growing resentment that you are rejecting our ways for that of the cattle”.
“Humans.” He corrected her, holding her ethereal gaze. She possessed more power in her than any previous incarnation Sol remembered having, but she nodded her head ever so slightly.
“Humans. They jest about your constant vigil. Your past deeds are being forgotten Sol. I remember I once wrote songs about your battles.”
Sol snorted. “Those days are long over, Azael. I am finished with the war. I dont care who I will be in the future, I don't care what I am made of. I will never fight against Torment again. If we are emotions made manifest, than this war is the manifestation of futility. Our entire society is made up of battalions and hosts, every moment of our unending lives is spent fighting or preparing to fight the demons of Torment. Why, Azael? Do you even know why we fight them?”
“Because. We have fought them for as long as I can remember.” Sol tried to hide his rising frustration. “Is that the reason we fight? Because we fight?”
Azael’s eyes dimmed, a hint of menace swimming in the soothing blue glow. “They threaten Solace. They threaten the angels way of life.”
Sol checked himself. “Do they? They seem to be the very purpose of our life. Our way of life is devoted to the destruction of Torment and the demons that inhabit it. Since I was reawakened in this form, I have asked every angel I meet why we fight this war. We pride ourselves on our oral and aural history, we tell stories and write songs about our deeds and immortalise our greatest incarnations. But none tell of why we fight. None explain the cause of the war. I sought out what little written history we have. All it confirms is we have been fighting this war for far too long, and no progress has ever been made.” Sol sighed, releasing the stress and tension that had built up. He realised he had done a poor job of hiding his frustration.
Azael stared at him for a long time. Sol feared he had upset her.
“Are you afraid, my friend?” she asked him. He shook his head.
“I am not manifested of fear. My desire to know overrides any fear I may have ever felt in this incarnation.”
“That is not what I mean. Are YOU afraid? Do you fear your current form cannot do battle? Do you fear your legacy would suffer? I would always allow you to fight alongside me. My victories would be yours to share.”
Sol felt frustration and loneliness. She didn’t understand what he was feeling. He cared nothing at all about his legacy. It was as pointless as the actions that granted it. “I felt this way for so long, I just didn't have the knowledge needed to confirm my feelings.” Sol stood up and walked back to his viewing portal. He wanted to to go to Avarrach. He felt so alone in Solace, like he no longer belonged among his people. Not even Azael understood, and that hurt him more than he could comprehend.
He stared down into Avarrach, and felt her hand slip around his, a common human practice. He looked beside himself and saw her standing beside him, her gaze fixed firmly on Avarrach also. “I don't understand what you are going through, my friend. But I will go through it with you.”
Panic flooded through his whole being. Something was going terribly wrong. Sol had been watching over Avarrach when he noticed chaos everywhere. People were going mad, killing others indiscriminately. Sol could not see or understand what was going wrong, but he knew it required intervention.
He raced out of the viewing chamber and launched himself through the air. He knew he could not do this on his own, he needed help. He sought out Azael, knowing if he could convince his friend, she could command multiple Hosts to come and help.
He found her in a drill yard, at least ten Hosts training under her instruction.
“Azael!” He landed beside her without attempting to slow, resulting in a very noticable, ungraceful landing. All angels stopped training and watched.
“Sol! What are you doing?” Azeal was angry and Sol understood the human proverb.
“You need to come and help me. Bring your Hosts. Avarrach is being besieged by madness!”
Audible gasps were heard from the training grounds, many angels unable to hide their shock at the insubordination. Commanding a more powerful angel was unheard of, let alone an Archangel.
Azeal lifted her gun and aimed it at Sol. Her eyes had lost her blue tinge and now swirled with a blueblack that offered to be as forgiving as a storm in open sea. He had embarrassed her, tried to hijack her authority in front of hundreds of her followers.
Sol knelt down before his friend and pointed his wings down, subjugating himself to her.
“Speak. Plainly and respectfully.” She kept the gun trained on the back of his head.
“Most Radiant One, the reality of Avarrach has been corrupted by some sort of madness. What was once a utopia is descending into chaos, civilians tear each other apart on the streets. It isnt localised in just one city either, but spread across the entire land. I strongly recommend intervention on this matter.” He kept his gaze down, but could sense her lowering her weapon.
Her voice boomed across the courtyard, reinforcing her power and status. “Why should we care about the cattle?”
Sol resisted the urge to correct his friend. Quietly, so that none others could hear, he whispered, “Because, it’s my home.”
He felt the force of her slap before it connected with the back of his head. “Dismissed!” she commanded, and hundreds of angels took flight, leaving the two alone. She grabbed him by his outstretched wings and dragged him inside a building.
“I should put my bullet in your head and force you to reawake. You’d be lucky if I didn’t just imbibe you while I was at it. There would be no retribution after your display out there. You’ve disgraced not only me, but all of your past incarnations. What is wrong with you?”
Sol knew he had crossed many lines. Social order in Solace was dictated simply by how powerful an angel is when it reawakes. An entire society based on warring against another, it simply came down to who carried the most weight in battle. Most, if not all, angels had no qualms with warring against Torment, and so it had forever been in everyones best interest to defer to the more powerful ally when orders were given.
Sol had not only spoken out against an Archangel, he had given her orders. Not even the demons of Torment behaved that erratically. He thought of her threat to imbibe him, the act of absorbing ones energy after they died, but before they gathered enough emotion to reawake. It was an unspeakable taboo, so unthinkable that it was not even used against the forces of Torment.
“Azael, I beg forgiveness, but I know something is wrong. The humans of Avarrach are facing an extinction level event. This could be as devastating as the Calamity to that reality. An entire reality that would no longer provide us with emotions to feed off.”
Azael paced the room. She was warring with herself and her emotional make-up. As an Angel of Honor, Sol knew that a large part of her wanted to punish him.
“What is happening to you? You are becoming less an angel and more a human. I’ve told you others are taking notice. I don’t know if I can protect you this time, Sol.”
“I dont need you to protect me, Azael. I need you to listen to me. I have watched this world, I understand it. Something is horribly wrong, and it is only getting worse. This reality is so advanced in the ways of technology, it would not surprise me to find they have the capability to move through the realities. If this gets out, it will harm more than just me. You say the Demons threaten our way of life? They have never gotten as close as whatever is happening in that world.”
“I will do this for you, Sol. This will be the last time I help you, and only because you are my friend and I see how much this means to you. But if I do this, it will be the last time I can cover for you. I will need to create distance from you. Asking me to do this, to risk my standing and the incarnations of a lot of good soldiers, will destroy our friendship. Do you understand?”
“So, do you still want my help?”
Sol waited to step through the gate that would allow him and the rest of his Host into Avarrach. It had been days since the outbreak started, and Sol had watched dejectedly as his favourite world suffered and died. It only took a couple of days for it to spread everywhere. Here and there, a few holdout communites struggled, but the outbreak seemed to be some sort of parasite that manipulated the hosts body after death. No matter what happened when they finally arrived, it was too late for the world.
A few forward scouts had broken into the reality and were making contact with some of these holdout communities. Moving from Solace to the Infinite Realms was a difficult process which drained an incarnation of some of it’s power. The process was made much easier if a Gate was opened from the other side first.
Moving a Host was much easier with Gates, but a Gate required a lot of energy and sacrifice. To open a Gate from the Infinite Realms to either the upper or lower realm, the summoner needed to give a life. Sol hoped that the bleak situation the humans were in would put them under a little more pressure to agree more readily.
Azael had taken particular notice of the events that unfolded on Avarrach. She agreed very quickly that this was a danger to be interfered with. Sol spent every moment not spent despairing for Avarrach berating himself for losing control and losing his friend. Had he of used the proper procedures…
The gate before him began to hum, and light bled across the gate from one side to the other. A sacrifice had been made, allowing Azael and her commanders to lead the Hosts through to Avarrach. In times past, Sol would fly alongside Azael, commanding a Host of his own. As it was, he was lucky enough to be accepted into a choir.
Recon had discovered that the people of Avarrach had fallen victim to a corrupt body modification, or a Bod Mod. It promised to give the body immortality, preventing the death of cells and stopping aging. Somehow, the modification was destroying the mind and hijacking the body. Avarrach was gone, there was no coming back.
His Chorus was assigned to search Kyrallic, the once proud capital of Avarrach. Azael needed to determine how close Avarrach was to travel between realities, or if it were at all a possibility for the humans. Once satisified such technology did not exist, they were to destroy the buildings and any information they held. This was a clean up mission, not a rescue one.
He flew through the Gate with his Chorus, and began the flight to Kyrallic. He saw many of the dead humans that werent really dead. Their bodies were torn apart, either from combat or self mutilation, he could not tell. It seemed as if though mechanical veins were growing from inside their body, and from those veins more complex machinery was being built. Or grown…
They arrived at Kyrallic and split up into Choirs. Sol’s Choir began to search a large building that once housed “TaskTech Inc”. Recon had unconfirmed rumors that this company was the source of the infection.
<Battle happens, Sol is attacked by Zombies and fatally injured. He fears that he will die and enter the reawakening state and be destroyed by the zombies, but Azael arrives to protect him. She fights them off, but is also fatally wounded. Sol is reborn of Vengence, the emotion strongest felt on Avarrach. He is reborn centuries later as an Archangel with facial features, becoming the most powerful angel known. He commands a bunch of angels to keep watch over the world of Avarrach, while he waits for Azael to be reborn.>
The Archangel stood a constant vigil over the vortex that would become his friend. A casual observer could mistake it for an Ebony statue, a tribute to harmony and peace. But beneath the pristine exterior boiled a rage that would never be sated.
He reached out and touched the vortex, a ball of emotional energy being translated into the new incarnation of his oldest friend. The vortex felt positive, something noble. Azael was going to be a little overbearing this time around. Sol remembered a time when he was made up of a noble emotion, and a small part of him missed the peace he had.
Sol heard the whoosh of wings as someone landed beside him. “How much longer until Azaels’ Reawakening is complete?” Irial asked.
“Soon. I can sense the emotions drying up. I fear Azael may be overbearing this time. Might strain our friendship”.
Irial gave her smile, a grimace that often scared those rare few who observed it. “Good. How powerful do you think Azael will be?”
“Not an Archangel this time, despite how long it is taking her to reawake. But still strong. Azael’s reawakenings always grant great strength. This time it will be on me to keep my friend safe.” Sol took his gaze off the swirling energies. “What are you doing here Irial? I told you to watch the Realms.”
“And I have. I followed your orders and missed Goliath knows how many battles against Torment. What you have feared has come to pass. The Realms weaken and the realities collide. I have come to fetch you so that you may see for yourself.”
The fires within Sol were stoked. He had been waiting for a long time for a reason to visit the Realms. He looked back at the Reawakening. His friend would finish transference soon and become physical. His vengeance could wait.
“Keep an eye on it. I will see it for myself when Azael is back with us.” Irial nodded, gave a quick glance to Azael, and took off.