Falias, Finias Chapter Eleven

Suggested Theme:

Main Theme- A Violent Yet Flammable World by Au Revoir Simone

Today is July 24th, exactly a month since Kazdan became a caretaker, and he desires to soak up the last days of free-will before school begins again, but he wakes a little before the alarm can blare into his dreams. He wakes from pleasant memories of last night in Chaotic with the girl, Krystella.

I need to contact her today, definitely not now. Maybe like noon. I'll email her through the site, maybe make a joke about my online deck being locked out. No, I won't make that horrible joke!

He pauses midway in putting on his baggy green shirt.

What if she calls me in Chaotic, while I'm taking care of the ba-toddler? She's not going to see the confident, glamorous player. She'll see my baggy clothes, my lifeless hair, my meekness…she'll see me.

He slides the rest of the shirt down, hiding his disappointing body.

I should be focusing more on the toddler; he can walk now, which means he's probably tearing up the castle. Cothica, the damages will come out of my pay, which means no free lunches for H'earring and probably a lot of yelling from Dairus.

He quickly grabs his Scanner from his desk and knocks his plastic Chaor figurine off its stand in the process. He curses aloud when he sees that one half of the plastic ring that held Chaor up has snapped cleanly off.

This is what I get for not placing him on the TV shelf with Najarin and Moon Horn! But now I can get him a real stand, and I could use some sun. And some more cards…

While his Earth-self is busy with shopping, his Chaotic-self is in UnderWorld City. His eyes are more focused on the topographic screen than the actual Location itself. He expects to run into a lamppost, or, worse, another UnderWorlder.

So when his vision goes dark, he thinks that he's been punched so quickly that his mind hasn't yet processed the pain. But he hears a scream, embodying a chorus of women, and then he sees his Scanner again with its topographic map. He looks up and around for the source and sees nothing but the stone steps of the cathedral in the morning's dim light.

The arched double doors swing open, and he scrambles to get out of the way for whatever Creature was coming out of the building.

A procession of Creatures, dressed in silvery clothing, flow from the austere entrance; he recognizes only one of them, Khybon. The four-armed Taskmaster is holding up a metallic slab with a mummified body resting atop very much like Atlas holding up the world. The blue crystal in the middle of his chest glows darkly, almost like it's a sapphire.

The procession splits into two on the cobblestone road and lets Khybon lead them. Maroon butterfly petals lay atop the cracked dark stones where the Creatures once stood; he picks one up and smells copper tinged with sweet smoke.

He is ten minutes late to work. His nerves should be jittering from the lecture he'll receive from Dairus. Yet, he keeps stroking the petal between his forefingers, consumed with secondhand loss. And with loss, his body is on auto-pilot and arrives at his destination.

"Took you–" The snarl softens into a grimace at the petal. "Who died?"

"I…..don't know. But Khybon was there." He wonders if he should clarify, but Dairus sighs with the burden of knowledge that he doesn't have.

"I forgot that the funeral was today. No wonder I didn't see H'earring last night…" I guess H'earring must be watching his forge for him. But was the funeral for a friend, a lover, or a family member? Dairus sighs through her large nostrils.

"It's for his niece. She was only twenty-four solons old. She had weak lungs, but a lot of miner children grow out of it. She never quite did." Miner children? As in a child of miners? Or was she a miner herself? Either way, she most likely lived near the mines, which means that she probably developed a form of black lung or some kind of respiratory disease from exposure. He looks down briefly, wondering what else to say.

"Will Khybon…..get a break?" She shakes her head lightly.

"Considering his importance to the UnderWorld, I doubt more than a day and a night. For the best really, he can't afford to be consumed by grief. The parents can, especially if it's their first child." And only. I can tell is on the tip of her tongue, but she's holding back. And I feel slightly grateful for that.

"What were the petals from?"

"The petals were Thanatos blossoms; they grow only where corpses lie in the UnderWorld. Most UnderWorlders are cremated, but some followed the ancient, obsolete tradition of being buried because of the belief that those flowers that grow from the corpse are pieces of their code."

"So it's almost like they're not really dead." She nods. "But why scatter those petals?"

"Because those pieces of code act as a light to guide the deceased into the Spiritlands if you believe that junk. Personally, I think it's because the Funeral Guild wants to make some extra copper by providing that service." So Spiritlands is probably Heaven. Then, what's Hell here? Maybe the OverWorld. Or maybe there's none like in Judaism if I'm remembering my World History lessons on monotheistic religions correctly.

"So what about the darkness with a woman screaming? Is that part of the funeral package?" Dairus's raises both her frizzy brows with a wrinkle of her nose, but then she smirks.

"Oh, you've met Blaaxa. And you scared her! A human, how low!" Dairus chortles and giggles for half a minute.

"So was Blaaxa the ghost of the girl who died?" This makes Dairus laugh hard enough to make her belly jiggle.

"No, no! That girl had far too much courage!" Dairus wipes an oily tear away. "She was making sure that the street was cleared for the funeral; it's one of the duties of a funeral apprentice."

"What exactly was she?"

"An Ethereal; they're UnderWorlders that're…..strange in origin. Some are fearsome like Barath Beyond, but then some are…..underwhelming like Blaaxa. Which isn't surprising that Lord Chaor doesn't use her for many missions. He has uses for cowards like Krekk, but Blaaxa is….a bit weak." Of course, I had a chance to scan a Super Rare Creature and blew it! He holds back an annoyed sigh.

"So how has been the toddler behaving?" Dairus grins widely like she's found some rare meat.

"He's been walking about, hasn't broken anything yet. And now that you're here, you better keep it that way, or it'll come out of your wages." And I bet it'll go straight into your pocket! He holds his tongue and nods.

He breathes a sigh of relief at the closed door before him. He takes hold of it and twists it down, and is met with some resistance. He then pushes harder to open it and sees a hill of books pitching forward and clattering to the ground.

There weren't books here the last time I was—His eyes widen at the bookshelf, the newest expense in an otherwise austere room. The book shelf is a stone monolith about five inches taller than him; the stone is dark nickel in color with dragons carved into its side. The dragons have thin bodies, more like serpents, and pupil-less eyes that give no hint of mercy to the worlds they're burning.

This is cool, but wouldn't Chaor be worried that an earthquake could make this fall on the…oh, I see the bolts on the bottom shelf. He must've had this bolted to the wall for that very scenario! He notices that the books are thin, no more than thirty-two pages, and leather bound. He sees the Creature pictograms etched in gold on the spines of the books.

I wonder if it's real gold…oh shit, does he expect me to teach the toddler how to read?! I took the technical track in high school to avoid learning a language! Maybe, I could bribe H'earring to teach him reading. He picks up a book from the floor and skims through it; he notices that the book is mostly pictures.

I was expecting gruesome scenes, but this is fairly tame. There's an OverWorlder, if the blue symbol on his chest is anything to go by, getting beheaded, but I think it's because that OverWorlder plotted to drown UnderWorld City. And the art reminds me of the Elric comics. Sharp in facial features, but lots of odd shapes. He puts the book back and goes over to the crib to see the blankets drawn over a bag-shaped lump with tiny horns. He pulls it off and sees the baby bag and the statue of Chaor.

I'm actually impressed he thought far enough to try and make a decoy of himself, but he clearly hasn't grasped the concept of silhouettes. And he reached the door handle, so he's out. But he's not even one and this place is huge; he's probably close by. Maybe in the other rooms. He can only hope.

He could only search two other rooms, one of them being the bathroom, because the rest of the rooms were locked. The other was Dairus's bedroom if the smell of moldering undergarments were anything to go by.

He's only been walking for a week! The only way outside is through the backdoor of the kitchen or the front; both of which are guarded by very scary Creatures. Perhaps, he went into the Banquet Hall; the hall that I've been explicitly told not to go in. Risk a scolding from Dairus or risk Chaor's wrath? He chooses the former and heads to the Banquet Hall.

The door to the Banquet Hall requires only a good push for him to enter. His eyes widen at the grandness of the room. The T-shaped table, easily could fit a hundred Creatures, shines like black marble with stars trapped in the dark stone. There are no chairs, but a series of benches with gaps to allow for movement. The benches are made from a wood that he would attribute to mahogany if it could bleed, but surely it's just illusion brought on by the glare of the crystals?

And at the shortest part of the "T," there lies the throne, Chaor's throne. High-back like the Europeans, but anchored and detailed like the Marble Throne. The most worn carvings are at the bottom, depicting Creatures in rags on Skeletal Steeds raiding a village. Above it, there's a giant version of Magmon surrounded by Creatures in chains. And above him is a Creature looking a lot like Chaor but with more hair and pupils; he slewed the Magmon-giant with help from others wielding what looks like ancient Pyroblasters. And one of them looks like a chicken.

He smirks, imagining that Agitos is descended from this chicken Creature.

No more Creatures after that. Just the expansion of UnderWorld City. This probably means that the successors of the Liberator never could measure up to him. It's just like what happens to many governments on Earth; starts off promising, then stagnates, then declines, then death, and then some kind of rebirth/rebranding.

He nearly drifts into histories of great rulers and their failed successors until he remembers a very important fact: the toddler is still missing.

Focus! The toddler isn't here! You can ponder about the disappointing heirs of rulers, particularly of the Julio-Claudian dynasty, later! He tears his eyes away from the historical splendor and moves past the throne for the door.

He sees red, nearly the exact shade of human muscle tissue, and ostentatious displays of raw power. Bones, polished to bleach white, hang alongside collagraphs, mostly copper and iron in its platings, of Locations in the UnderWorld such as the Lava Pond and Tartarus Theater.

I was expecting more tapestries and skulls; the bones here look more like rib cages, so maybe Chaor likes to collect spare ribs? Or maybe he inherited all of this art from Gothos? No, I doubt he'll keep his enemy's décor. But where are all the scary, pointy weapons? I thought there would be a mace or two around here…

He stops before a set of stairs. The stairs themselves are not as intimately detailed as the throne nor made of the same marble-like material. These stairs are just gray stones wide enough to let many Creatures go up them without trouble. But on the very first step is a green glow like a firefly in the summer night.

It's a grass blade from Everrain! He picks up the blade and ascends the steps at a quick clip, finally having a direction to go. Upstairs, on the second floor, he is greeted with naked walls and closed doors.

He checks all the doors and is met with the door being locked. He turns down the hall and sees double doors at the very end; one of the doors is cracked open.

He sprints to the door and peeks through the crack.

The toddler is sitting by an open drawer and stacking white rocks, shaped like disks, into a tower. He knocks it down and builds it up anew, and then repeats its fall. Like God stuck on the Tower of Babel.

"Toddler!" His hiss has the same impact as an autumnal gust; the toddler stops his building for just a moment to acknowledge the word, but then resumes with no care. For what can a simple breeze do against a tower?

He heard me! Am I really going to have to drag him out there? And he'll be kicking and screaming like any kid being pulled away from his toys. He sighs heavily and pushes the door open, earning a glance over by the toddler who then returns to his godhood. He rolls his eyes at the toddler's stubbornness, and walks over to him. As he walks, he finally takes stock of the room.

There is a lacquered black armoire about as tall as Chaor in the far corner of the giant room; the handles are shaped like harps, golden and curved. But missing their strings. The desk and the bed frame are made of the same marble that the throne in the Dining Hall, but colored a shade of red that hurts for him to look at for too long. So he looks by the bed.

And his eyes widen at the boots by the bed; brown, trimmed with fur and cobalt.

"I'm in C-Chaor's room!" He squeaks. His face becomes nearly as white as the toddler's skin, while the toddler lets out a peal of open-mouth laughter. He scowls at the toddler who returns to his rocks, Chaor's rocks.

"You can understand me, can't you?" He intends to whisper, but his anger blisters his octave. The toddler refuses to respond to his anger and stacks up his tower.

"You're as stubborn as your–" He nearly cracks his head as he whips it toward the door where the stomping sound is coming from beyond its arch. Down the hallway lit with crystals, he can see the long shadow of Chaor.

Without a thought, he quickly takes the tower of stones and shuts them into the drawer. He then scoops up the toddler and rushes towards the only hiding place: the armoire.

He scrambles towards salvation and nearly drops the squirming toddler; he didn't get to shut the doors all way when Chaor comes in. He sees Chaor through an eye-of-needle-thin slit in the doors.

What is Chaor pulling at under his desk? Oh, it's just a stool. How did I miss that? And how can it hold a Creature of his size and weight? Maybe it's magically reinforced? Or would that be "mugically?" His thoughts quiet down at the sound of a drawer being open; his heart twists as he realizes that he may haven't put the stones back in the right order.

"Rarran, report." Rarran? If I remember his flavor text properly, he's a prison guard. Was there a prison break? The toddler stills in his arms.

"Lord Chaor, the prisoner has finally admitted that he's from the South and committed the robbery at the behest of a masked female."

"And he knows nothing else about the female he worked for." Chaor makes a sound that sounds a lot like a snort.

"And the Locations for meetings with the masked woman would change after every job. So we don't really know if this masked woman was also from the South like them or elsewhere."

"Report to me immediately when the prisoner has yielded more useful information." He hears a loud clatter like Chaor slammed down the communication device. Then, there's a low growl; he sees Chaor move away from the desk and stalking away from his limited line of sight.

There's a screech like a hidden, ancient door being slid open and then closed; then, the sound of water roaring through pipes alert him that Chaor is taking a shower or a bath.

This is my only chance to get out of here with my face intact! He gently palms open the armoire's doors and then slowly closes them. He then walks like a tightrope walker out of Chaor's room with the toddler grinning the entire time.

He thought about putting the toddler in his room and letting him play by himself while he chats with Dairus, but he knows better. The toddler does not struggle as he is carried into the kitchen, which makes him wonder if the toddler was still afraid to be caught by Chaor.

A sound resembling a snort comes from the toddler, making him roll his eyes.

"I wouldn't take him out until dusk; the heat today is as dry as the Mipedian desert!"

"I prefer that over humidity, but we're not doing that today." The toddler harrumphs at that.

"Well, I could use someone to wash the dishes." His eyes glance over at the sink and sees a tower of dishes and pots that nearly reach the ceiling.

"Are all of those Lord Chaor's?"

"No, most of those are from the partygoers last night."

"Oh, was it for a holiday?"

"Summer Scream has been over for serpetems. In another three medsises, Spirit Night will be upon us." She trails off with a shudder of angst. "It'll take me days to go through all those dishes…"

"I'll help you with the dishes if you can provide me some insight." She smiles with her yellow incisors on full display.

"On what exactly? Keep in mind I've forgotten most've the rubbish from schooling."

"I saw these white stones." She shoots him a disdainful look.

"You mean the gravel by the roads?"

"No, these stones were as small as a baby's hand and flat enough to stack on top of each other."

"Like disks you would skim across the Lava Pond?"

"…..Yeah."

"Those stones are for babies that die before their Name Day."

"Oh…"

"How many did you find?"

"Six."

"Poor Creature, wouldn't wish that on an OverWorlder."

"…I….better take him back to his room." He stops talking for the rest of the day after that, while the toddler plays quietly with the statute. Every now and again, he would look at Kazdan for a solid moment like he was going to say something, but then fails to find the right words.

When the day is finished, Kazdan ports home.

On Earth, Kazdan is idling away his night with reading a book that portrays Cleopatra VII Philopator as a competent ruler rather than the salacious tart that the West loved for her to be. He hears a beep from his desk and bolts down the ladder of his bed. He frowns when he gets there.

Damn, that was just my Scanner. Krystella probably won't get back to me until tomorrow because she probably has something better to do then spend half a day on typing up a Chaotic Mail.He presses the blinking logo in order to avoid sinking further into his insecurity.

He drops his Scanner and goes straight to his bed. He lays there, staring up at the ceiling for a good ten minutes before he feels ready to do what needs to be done.

He cries.

Author's Comments- Here are the links:

Blaaxa is not an OC; I recently acquired her when I got my OverWorld Holiday Tin. She is an UnderWorld Ethereal Minion and Super Rare. Her Disciplines (it took me far longer to realize this is another name for stats) are as followed: 20 Courage, 45 Power, 65 Wisdom, and 45 Speed. She also has only 20 energy. Compare that to Krekk who has 20 Courage, 90 Power, 10 Wisdom, 70 Speed, and 35 Energy. And Krekk specializes in Fire, while she appears to specialize in no specific element. In her card, she is hunched over Mommark, ready to attack him from behind. I interpret it in two ways. The first being is that she's one of Mommark's "failed" creations like Zaur and Stelgar; she's gathered enough "courage" to take her revenge and most likely fails because Mommark scares her with something. The second is that she's brainwashed by the M'Arrillians and was assigned to kill Mommark, and likely fails for aforementioned reason: a href=" . /revision/latest?cb=20140907234100"Link/a

Collagraphs are prints resulted from collagraphy, which is a form of printing that uses materials applied to rigid substances like wood. Lithographs, to me and from what I gathered from Wikipedia, are the exact opposite in the sense that the print needs to be on a smooth surface. I figure that lithographs would be an OverWorld thing, while collagraphs would be an UnderWorld thing. And this is the collagraph that inspired me to use such art in this chapter: a href=" . "Link/a

Originally, I was going to use the "conversation" between Pyrithion and Chaor from season one's, episode twelve's "BattleDrome of the Sexes" episode. Because that's probably the only part that players didn't alter in their retellings of the Passage story. However, upon further re-watches, I believe that must've taken years before our gang became players. So I decided to focus on Van Bloot "subtly" building up his rebel faction. And there's only a few months before the events of season one take place in this story, so it's probably best I build up on that before tackling "Lord of Treachery" whenever I get to it.

I have referenced the cathedral in a previous chapter of this story, but I never really got into any specific details on it. I believe the cathedral was first and last shown in season one's, episode three's "Unexpected," and that was from the back.

In season one's, episode 35's "Dual Duel Part 1," H'earring lists out all the favors he has done Khybon, and we never get to hear the last one. I like to believe that he helped watch out for some Locations in the UnderWorld for Khybon, so Khybon could be allowed to mourn properly even if it's for a day. Also, so he could use this against him if need be. H'earring can be nice, but he's not going to pass up someone owing him a favor. Which I theorize he's cashed in on a few to save his green butt on many occasions.

In season three's, episode twelve's "Son of the Spiritlands," we finally get introduced to the Spiritlands, which may or may not be some kind of Tribe in itself kind of like The Frozen of Glacier Plains, which Blügon is friends with. Although in the original Chaotic Now or Never, there were six Tribes. But before that episode, I imagined the Spiritlands to be an analog of the afterlife to many Creatures.

In season two's, episode two's "Dangers of Diplomacy," in Maxxor's office, there is a globe (of what I can presume is Perim) with a dragon wrapped around it. I don't know if this was foreshadowing for the Mipedian Dragons mentioned in The Ultimate Guide To All Things Chaotic, or maybe it had something to do with an OverWorld creation myth that a dragon breathed Perim into existence or something. Either way, dragons exist in Creature canon.

In regards to Chaor's throne, or thrones, I believe each throne fulfills a purpose. The one that we first see in the show is season one's, episode thirteen's "Lord of Treachery." That throne was hidden in a secret location underneath the city, so I presume that's where Chaor gives secret missions while also putting the fear of the Cothica into his subordinates. The next one we see is in season two's, episode 52's "From the Deep Part I." That throne appeared to be in a far more open area of the castle, so I presume that's when he's dealing with the public. The throne in the Banquet Hall is something I made up and is purely for feasts and parties.

Serpetems is my made-up word for a week in Creature lexicon; I used the Latin word septem and combined it with serpent. Medsis and Medsises have to do with month and months respectively; again, I combined Latin memsis with Medusa to make the word.

Next chapter will deal with Kazdan meeting up with Accato and Krystella again.