The Hanging Garden
~~~
The Secret Gardens, West of Coven Bristle Crios. Late Evening.
The air was alive with skeins of power, though most of them could only be viewed with mage sight; to the eyes of those not yet awake, the only evidence of arcane manipulation were the flower petals which were constantly dancing through the air, on and on, without cease. The ground, too, was abound in flowers; roses of all different strains filled the wide flower beds, including a pure rosa gigantea at the center of the entire thing.
It was at the center, that Kaius stood. He'd stood there for hours, next to the plinth that supported the planter that held that foreign rose, the rose that had reminded him of the necrosa gargantua.
He felt' powerful, there.
It was his private place, away from the Coven. Well, mostly private at least. "Too private, now" he mused quietly, unable to keep the ironic smile from tugging up a corner of his lip. "You were never meant to be in seclusion," he continued, talking to the plants, ?" I wanted to' glorify you."
Perhaps part of the reason he felt more powerful in the Garden he'd built for the Goddess, so long ago, was that it was filled with the notion of glory. As the thought crossed his mind, he couldn't help but also consider the bittersweet notion of his failures also culminating there.
Renna " or someone he had thought to be her, calling herself "One" " had repaired his severed arm; in doing so, she had also made his last, strongest, memory of her to be that of anguish and tears upon her face even as she commanded her Proxy's help in subduing him. His regrown arm was whiter than the native one, but just as durable " so far at least. He didn't feel the exchange at all a fair one, but' what?s fair, after all.
Atticus had repaired his Myriad or something very close to it at least. Kaius hadn't understood everything that the High Mage had said " proving Kaius's own inexperience with the objects. From the way he'd made it sound, there was nothing wrong with Pathfinder to begin with, except to Kaius mind; it had somehow been disconnected, perhaps by Kaius on will or desire. Atticus had had an answer to that though, and put a "patch' as he described it, that he called "Wayfare". Kaius hadn't used it to great effect, yet.
Tonight would be his first test.
He had to test himself, to push himself; he couldn't abide by those who were still showing concern. It had been ten months now since he'd returned. They needed to get over themselves and realize that although the damage done to his mind and body could be and were healed; there was another damage that needed something he apparently couldn't provide a bandage for, the damage to his soul.
In his mind's eye, he opened his Myriad " Pathfinder " and the darkness of the garden was lit by a hellish red glow emitting from his third eye. Power surged through him, as he prepared himself, letting Pathfinder delve into the area around the garden, caressing all the enchantments that he himself had put there, and also the ones left by' another. He could feel the dimensions of the garden perfectly; all space within the garden was one with him.
He kept reaching out, further and further, deep into the ground below the garden, and all around its circumference which, from the sky above, made the layout of the beds themselves resemble roses in bloom. As the power of Pathfinder began to rush through him, he did something he had not done before, nor even though possible " especially through the use of his Myriad. He bi-located. Not once, not twice, but many times"
The bi-location continued until Kaius appeared in nine different spots around the Garden at once; eight around the perimeter, and the one "original" directly in the center. As one, since one they were, those on the perimeter extended their arms out to their sides, as if seeking to contact their fellows; he who stood in the center gradually turned in a circle, as if drawing in from everything around him, amassing power until his eyes " their eyes " finally opened.
The opening of their eyes was the beginning a conflagration that lit the skies above the gardens, as Pathfinders power bored into the ground around the garden, and beside it even, as if burrowing.
And the Garden entire disappeared, leaving behind an apparent quarry with a few stray petals falling through the air " the only petals from the garden ever to have touched the ground.
~~~
The Hanging Garden, Somewhere above the Marketplace. Even Later Evening.
The 'duplicates" of Kaius had collapsed in upon themselves, and he fought a feeling of severe disorientation. His senses had been thrown in far too many directions with what he'd done, but it wasn't the first time that he had been wounded by his ambition.
Still.
It had cost him the ability to use Pathfinder, again, though he realized now that it was only temporary; his Myriad was acting like a muscle, and he had strained it, and now had started to exercise it again. It was still weak, or at least weaker than he would have preferred. Weaker than it had been before he had injured it.
As Kaius looked out across the new vista that the garden had, he found himself looking evenly with the tops of the tallest buildings in the city. He sighed, and collapsed back on the plinth beside the Negzacurgian rose, sitting cross legged and letting some form of sleep steal over him for the moment. He would modify the applications of Pathfinder's powers on the Garden come the morning.
Or whenever he could draw on his Myriad again.
Until then, he was stuck there it seemed. Resigned to his fate, he stretched out onto his back, arms behind his head, and looked up at the moon. Thankful that the previous mythals laid by Pathfinder were shunting most of the wind away from his new perch, he allowed his eyes to close.
Sleeping here wouldn't be so bad, nor would it be the first time.
Depending on how you define "here?.
~~~
The Secret Gardens, West of Coven Bristle Crios. Late Evening.
The air was alive with skeins of power, though most of them could only be viewed with mage sight; to the eyes of those not yet awake, the only evidence of arcane manipulation were the flower petals which were constantly dancing through the air, on and on, without cease. The ground, too, was abound in flowers; roses of all different strains filled the wide flower beds, including a pure rosa gigantea at the center of the entire thing.
It was at the center, that Kaius stood. He'd stood there for hours, next to the plinth that supported the planter that held that foreign rose, the rose that had reminded him of the necrosa gargantua.
He felt' powerful, there.
It was his private place, away from the Coven. Well, mostly private at least. "Too private, now" he mused quietly, unable to keep the ironic smile from tugging up a corner of his lip. "You were never meant to be in seclusion," he continued, talking to the plants, ?" I wanted to' glorify you."
Perhaps part of the reason he felt more powerful in the Garden he'd built for the Goddess, so long ago, was that it was filled with the notion of glory. As the thought crossed his mind, he couldn't help but also consider the bittersweet notion of his failures also culminating there.
Renna " or someone he had thought to be her, calling herself "One" " had repaired his severed arm; in doing so, she had also made his last, strongest, memory of her to be that of anguish and tears upon her face even as she commanded her Proxy's help in subduing him. His regrown arm was whiter than the native one, but just as durable " so far at least. He didn't feel the exchange at all a fair one, but' what?s fair, after all.
Atticus had repaired his Myriad or something very close to it at least. Kaius hadn't understood everything that the High Mage had said " proving Kaius's own inexperience with the objects. From the way he'd made it sound, there was nothing wrong with Pathfinder to begin with, except to Kaius mind; it had somehow been disconnected, perhaps by Kaius on will or desire. Atticus had had an answer to that though, and put a "patch' as he described it, that he called "Wayfare". Kaius hadn't used it to great effect, yet.
Tonight would be his first test.
He had to test himself, to push himself; he couldn't abide by those who were still showing concern. It had been ten months now since he'd returned. They needed to get over themselves and realize that although the damage done to his mind and body could be and were healed; there was another damage that needed something he apparently couldn't provide a bandage for, the damage to his soul.
In his mind's eye, he opened his Myriad " Pathfinder " and the darkness of the garden was lit by a hellish red glow emitting from his third eye. Power surged through him, as he prepared himself, letting Pathfinder delve into the area around the garden, caressing all the enchantments that he himself had put there, and also the ones left by' another. He could feel the dimensions of the garden perfectly; all space within the garden was one with him.
He kept reaching out, further and further, deep into the ground below the garden, and all around its circumference which, from the sky above, made the layout of the beds themselves resemble roses in bloom. As the power of Pathfinder began to rush through him, he did something he had not done before, nor even though possible " especially through the use of his Myriad. He bi-located. Not once, not twice, but many times"
The bi-location continued until Kaius appeared in nine different spots around the Garden at once; eight around the perimeter, and the one "original" directly in the center. As one, since one they were, those on the perimeter extended their arms out to their sides, as if seeking to contact their fellows; he who stood in the center gradually turned in a circle, as if drawing in from everything around him, amassing power until his eyes " their eyes " finally opened.
The opening of their eyes was the beginning a conflagration that lit the skies above the gardens, as Pathfinders power bored into the ground around the garden, and beside it even, as if burrowing.
And the Garden entire disappeared, leaving behind an apparent quarry with a few stray petals falling through the air " the only petals from the garden ever to have touched the ground.
~~~
The Hanging Garden, Somewhere above the Marketplace. Even Later Evening.
The 'duplicates" of Kaius had collapsed in upon themselves, and he fought a feeling of severe disorientation. His senses had been thrown in far too many directions with what he'd done, but it wasn't the first time that he had been wounded by his ambition.
Still.
It had cost him the ability to use Pathfinder, again, though he realized now that it was only temporary; his Myriad was acting like a muscle, and he had strained it, and now had started to exercise it again. It was still weak, or at least weaker than he would have preferred. Weaker than it had been before he had injured it.
As Kaius looked out across the new vista that the garden had, he found himself looking evenly with the tops of the tallest buildings in the city. He sighed, and collapsed back on the plinth beside the Negzacurgian rose, sitting cross legged and letting some form of sleep steal over him for the moment. He would modify the applications of Pathfinder's powers on the Garden come the morning.
Or whenever he could draw on his Myriad again.
Until then, he was stuck there it seemed. Resigned to his fate, he stretched out onto his back, arms behind his head, and looked up at the moon. Thankful that the previous mythals laid by Pathfinder were shunting most of the wind away from his new perch, he allowed his eyes to close.
Sleeping here wouldn't be so bad, nor would it be the first time.
Depending on how you define "here?.