Mazera Mega Story Thread

A little something to held Diamondeye's story... or perhaps not...

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Overcouncil Requests Calabim to Step Down

Overcouncil representatives, in light of concerns over the actions of the Calabim government, have asked the Calabim to relinquish the post, and other Overcouncil leadership roles, until the matter of the attempted assination of Flauros can be settled. Many have also asked that an official Overcouncil investigation be launched into the actions of the Calabim government.

Concerned nations have asked Enion Logos to represent their concerns. The leader of the Eloheim, followers of the Order, assures that the Calabim that full justice will be pursued, and no vendettas pursued, but the Order's views on what justice is, and the Calabim's past policies, bring difficult questions. Enion Logos has offered to lead the investigation, to include priests of all the major Overcouncil religions, to clear the matter personally.

The Grigori did not vote one way or another, instead conferring with the recovering Flauros.

 

The ale was fine, but it wasn't enough. These days, nothing seemed to be enough. No strong drink, no sparing match, nothing seemed to calm him. Soon Messa left the petty inn, and nearly stalked the streets, looking for something, anything.

Ever since the North, since meeting the Angel of Fire, since freeing Brigit. She had done something, he was sure. Or perhaps it was better that meeting her had triggered something in him. Something had to be done; this world was burning, the demons taint corrupting it at the edges. Not just the demons: gods, good and evil, were playing out their games her. At times, it seemed only Dagda and Arwan didn't meddle in what wasn't theirs.

He wanted to do something. Had to do something. Retreiving Volanna had been the last action that had felt meaningful, but it wasn't enough. He wanted to make this world, his people, better, and inability to act was driving him crazy.

Well, perhaps not that far. He was likely already there.

The visions of people, the ones always on the edge of his vision since childhood, the hosts he had seen while so close to death... he saw them constantly now. Dreaming, shambling, but also following and watching. He knew, knew in his bones, that they were the dead of Arwan's domain. With the ale in his veins, he saw them fully.

They paid almost no heed of the living and their barriers, and the living passed through them without notice. Two crowds, constantly flowing through each other, paying no heed.

Except...

Messa stopped in the middle of the alley as a child in the robes of a Empyrean danced around the ghosts with ease. To others, it was a game. But Messa could only stare, stare as the boy danced in patterns around the dead, never touching them.

And then, to Messa's hazed amazement, one of the ghosts bowed to him, to Messa, and knelt to the boy. The boy lifted his gaze.

The boy met Messa's eyes, and stared into them as he completed his dance. He stared as Messa had seen priests stare at him in his childhood, a confused stare as if not understanding the voices in one's own head. But the boy's eyes cleared in understanding, and he bowed politely to Messa.

"You understand, don't you?"

"Understand why what?" Messa asked. He wondered if he needed to watch his purse strings around this youth.

"Why I avoid them," the boy said.

"I don't understand what you mean," Messa denied, denied as he had learned when the topic of his invisible watchers had come up. Denial was easier.

"I believe you do." The youth bowed again. "I am the one you may know as Last Child. You may call me Leo. I have been looking for you, Messa."

"The one survivor of the Chislev?" Messa asked, skeptical. "Why are you here? How do you see them?"

Leo smiled, and his effiminate features blured in radiance.

"I see because my eyes have been opened, much as yours were. And I come to offer you what you are seeking."

"And what's that?" asked Messa.

"A chance, one way or another, to begin to fix the wrongs of this world."

Leo, the effiminate boy in priests robes, spoke. And Messa listened.

---

 

Besides Flauros' bed stood several figures. Mouar of the Grigori, and envoys from the Bannor and the Elohim. The vampire was still severely crippled, but sat up in his bed nonetheless.
Coughing, he started out:

"I know you are only trying to do what is best - for Mazera and for yourselves - but I would like to ask of you to wait with your verdict. I know my Sister's situation is grave and that the evidence is against her, but if I can trust her" - Flauros mentioned towards the many wounds on his body and the bloodstains on his linens and clothes - "I think you can too. At least until she has had a chance to answer the accusations. I ask of this patience from you."

The envoys nodded, unable to refuse the fair claim, and left the room, leaving Flauros with Mouar. He looked at her and smiled, still pained by his wounds. "Mouar, I need you to do something for me."
The Grigori woman nodded. "Of course, Flauros, what is it?"
"I have seen... heard - of a man who can listen to the voices of the dead. I want you to find him and send him to investigate the chambers of my sister."
Mouar frowned. "... Are you speaking of Messa?"
Flauros nodded hesitantly. "Yes. He is travelling with a boy who wears the colours of the Empyrean. I think you know how the Empyrean feels towards me and my sister. If they lend their word in her defense, few would question them."
Mouar nodded. Flauros continued, "and if he should find anything to prove my sister's innocence, I know he is well renowned among the Redeemed aswell. Convincing them of my sister's innocence would be useful as well."
"But, Flauros, are you even sure of her innocence?"

Flauros looked at Mouar, a fierce glint in his eyes. Had he not been severely wounded, Mouar would have taken a step back at the gaze, and she realized that she had hurt him. "I stood before a god besides her, Mouar. And she is my sister. I know what I am doing."

Mouar left his bedside, whispering to herself: "I hope you do, Flauros, I really hope you do."

Strange Sightings in Sidar lands
Several Sidar citizens have been shocked to see a stranger walking the streets of their cities. The man, who manages to escape detection of even the Sidar whenever he feels like it, bears the exact image of Votakara's dead son, and despite his seemingly heavy injuries, he walks around and proclaims in a high voice that the Sidar need to take action against the destructive forces of Mazera.

 

Prethread for the sequel to Mega Story: Mazera. The link is here and it is called Mega Story II: The Unfreezing. Old writers are welcome, new writers are welcome. It's pretty much a clean slate in Mazera (Name now removed). It's kinda like the beginning of a FFH game. Just take a look, read about it, ask questions, give suggestions, and if you're interested, leave a post saying you're in. Thank you and thank Duke Sallos for Faeryl's breasts.