Animadverto Licentia
I own nothing. Done for the Christmas fic contest. Dedicated to my big brothers, both of them, and to my little brother and my sisters for being an awesome family.
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Prologue
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Darkness was all around him, swirling and swerving about, the myriad of shades in tones unable to be related to mortal eyes dancing an archaic ballet. He shivered in the icy grip of a being too old to be real. It felt as if it knew some ancient anger, the wrongs of every being that had ever lived bearing down on him, forcing memories of its victims' terror, pain, hatred…
The shrill cry of a being, a solid mass, an unknown creature that sat at the bottom of the ocean sent unanswerable fear coursing through his body. The entirety of the ocean trench was shown by flat green, the waters, pitch black, and there, in its midst, was a mass so great it seemed almost godly. The creature, the being, he wasn't sure what to call it, had no eyes, nor nose, mouth, ears, or appendages. It seemed as though it were a large rock, or some such heap of matter, and he would have assumed it to be as such were it not for the anger that radiated off it in undeniably powerful waves, crashing against his frailty like the waves so dauntingly high above on the shore.
Yet, even as he felt the rage of the gargantuan being upon him, there was a gentle understanding like that of a loving father who knows his part in a child's misbehavior. It cradled him, bracing him against the strike of the waves, holding him in one piece even as that rage threatened to tear him limb from limb.
A voice, smooth and overwhelming, tore into his ears, tears pouring from his eyes as he tried in vain to understand what was being said in the dead language.
"Young one," breathed a wind across the song of the flowing language in a soft dialect of Chinese, purring as it was caressed and complimented by the highs and lows of the other voice that twirled about it. "(Vereor mihi) Fear me… (ut vos mos.)as you will. (Tu) You… (trado nefas obviam meus populus, et) have committed wrongs against my people, and… (ego auditor) I have listened… (in torque) in torment as they called… (ut accersitus sicco pro misericordia)out for mercy. (Misericordia vos) A mercy you… (nunquam abicio)never gave. (Ego ferio) I would smite… (et terminus vos hic , tamen vel tu)and end you here, but even you… (corrumpo scortor ut vox es non relinquo meus parvulus) a spoiled wench to power, are not forsaken my child. (Ego vadum) I shall… (anhelo vita in humus) breathe life into the dirt… (et illic vos vadum exsisto,) and there you shall be, ready and free from… (vestri preteritus convicimus exilix matrem filius) your past sins, a motherless son… (parumper parentalis abbas) for a parentless father. (Vos aversabilis) You must… (non alieno) not forget… (vestri voluntas) your purpose."
He tried to shout, to ask what was meant by his purpose, but the words were drowned in tears of ecstasy at hearing this god, this creature beyond definition's voice.
And then it was hurt. He wasn't sure if he was the one hurting, or it, the creature – god, thing – was, but an echo of horror rendered him immobile as he felt himself being slowly disintegrated, little crystals of sand moving him from this nightmare to a place that was warm, unkown, safe…
In front of grand cedar doors, a palace that was permeated with warmth and kindness, a blanket of softest silk and warmest wool wrapped itself around the dirt as a tiny form was built from the ground. The form had an infant's appearance, and no memory of why it was there, but the peace that radiated from the neither-cold-not-hot night coupled with the soft light from within the palace coaxed it into a soundless, comfortable sleep.
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In the warm hall of a Mongolian Palace, three wise kings sat gazing upon the stars. Powerful Jupiter had aligned itself with the beautiful Andromeda Galaxy, and to them, that could only mean one thing: a king of kings had come.