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Akako's Fury
Posted 07-20-2017, 10:44 AM |
Divine Intervention
GODLY
N/A, 10.50
----
x in, x lbs
Infinite ep
© Divinity
akako
god of fire

It is quiet. Winter's grasp has recently faded, and in the upper regions of the mountains, the chill of the air is biting and sharp - and yet not as biting as the smoldering heat that festers just beneath the earth's depths. There is rage, there is fury, there is a seething note of unsettled and uncomfortable tension in the air, and its thickness is near tangible.

Build my children a home, Hoshiko had said - and "you are not a child of creation", they had teased him in return. "You know only destruction." He can not possibly contribute - if that is what they believe, so be it. He will show them what they want to see. If he is good only for destruction, then destruction they will see.

The first sign of unrest comes from the far distance: a gentle, quivering rumble from beneath the heated lands of Mt. Pyralis. These sounds are whispers of the cataclysm that is yet to come. Such little time passes before the tremors begin to rock the very earth, and without ceremony or warning, great chasms split the volcanic stone, spewing up bubbling masses of magma that light the night's sky with sudden heat and light as if the day has come too early, too soon. Smoke and ash cloud the air, block out the sky and the stars and not even the moon's light can break through the blanket of smoke that settles over the land.

Akako is unhappy.

The brunt of his rage directed towards those who have stolen from him, from him of all beings; they who spit in his face and balk at his indisputable glory. And the god of flames sets Mountain Lion Ridge alight-- the Rebel Wolves to the pyre. They have no God to defend them - they will be powerless against his rage.

Their red sands now grow hot; searing, burning underfoot as canyons are torn, massive rends of stone breaking through the ground. From within the earth, geysers of super-heated water shoot out, reeking of sulfurous gases that choke the air with sweltering heat. Steam rises from the red rock, visible for miles around. But worst of all are the trickling flows of lava that have begun to seep from the deepest chasms of the ridge and now are beginning to fill into molten-hot lakes. The Stygian flats are flat no longer, alive and angry, furious with Akako's rage. Boiling, massive streams of magma roll from the volcano, which sleeps no more.

How apt the Styx's name seems now, as smoke and steam billows from the stone and the trees, the ground unable to contain the Fire Lord's emotional torrent - it crumbles and cracks and rocks violently, trees uprooted and picturesque cliff sides crumbling.

They deserve this. The Rebels deserve it all, and they will now shoulder the blame for Doutaini's suffering—it is they who took Rykerri away in a time of Fire's need, and who killed her mother in a moment of greed; they who have taken so many of his own! Singer is dead, and in her stead there are those who have not yet proven themselves as worthy, and his patience wears thin. His mind flits to Aegon, who'd been snatched by the Valentine mongrel from his blessed Trace only to end in destruction for their means. When that had not been enough for him, he'd broken Singer too! And worst yet, a spirit he wished never to see, someone whose chains were broken and suddenly the cage's bars were bent asunder—Bellana's presence is the annoying niggling sensation at the back of his mind that drives his rage into a spiral. Lists of names from years past, forgotten to all but him, suffocate his mind - wolves of his flock, naive to the truth that Rebel would be their undoing. If only he could have stopped them sooner.

It was they who had the gall to dare think that any empire would claim his followers as their own; heathens and god-fearing they should have been, and yet they spit in the faces of those who have tolerated their presence in lands that were made for the faithful.

The harsh winds of the Ridge whip the heat from below into spirals, and small flame-twisters can be found spewing heat and sparks along the more desolate areas of the ridge, singeing and burning away the plants and foliage in their paths, a constant ebb of smoke seeming to billow from the Ridge's depths.

The Rebels' ordeal is nigh, and yet they are not the only ones to suffer, for now is the time to bring forth old grievances and reopen the wounds to bleed afresh -- now, the Gelid will find itself unseasonably warm. It takes so little to extend the tendrils of underground magma, to allow them to creep just a little further east, to accidentally pour their unnatural heat into the ground beneath the Sierra and bake it from the inside out. It will be quite some time before anyone notices: the snow will melt a little more quickly at the foothills this spring, and there may be some unexpected geysers gushing from the surface. But the damage is already done, and soon the unstable snow shelves will break free, ravaging the land with avalanches and robbing all but the tallest peaks of their year-round icy exterior.

It is Kiyoshi alone who knows his wrongdoings; Kiyoshi who is responsible for this retaliation upon his wolves. Akako prefers not to wait for such things to resolve themselves-- the Gelid would feel the burn. They all would.

They would all know of their transgressions, and they would suffer for them.
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Akako's Fury - Divine Intervention - 07-20-2017, 10:44 AM