By the time Abaasy returned, Arsene had cleaned his fur in a basin of clean water kept in a side chamber, then dried himself on a coarse rag. His fur came out embarrassingly frizzy and refused to be combed back down into a sensible style but at least he didn't look like a drowned rat any more, only like a mutated Nopon. The others had disappeared to make their own preparations. Marcus returned in a clean loincloth and set of bracers, much more finely crafted and ceremonial-looking, and he had smoothed down what little hair he had. Belzegaas had also tidied his appearance up, although there wasn't enough time for him to fully wash and dry his ample, thick hair. He had also picked his teeth clean, so that he smelled less of rotting meat. Daedala had polished his armour plates and changed his oil. Evidently, the figure they referred to as 'Abaasy' was a respected and influential person, God of Darkness or no.
First, Arsene heard a roar loud enough to shake the entire mountain. Then Arsene met Abaasy and saw that the odd strangers hadn't been delusional at all. The figure regarding him with dark unblinking reptilian eyes, its long-necked scaly head snaking through the entrance corridor and barely fitting, was a dragon. Arsene had never seen a dragon before and only had a vague idea of what one looked like but this matched everything he had been told. Something deep and primal told him it was true, the same thing that told him to be scared of Belzegaas and that Daedala smelled weird. He could feel Abaasy's spiritual presence, too, in the same way as he could hear the storm still raging all around him. From the sheer waves of dark power emanating from the dragon like a black tsunami, causing Arsene's fur to stick straight up on end and completely destroying his earlier attempts to force it not to, this could only have been a genuine Dragon God.
Abaasy's scales were dark blue, the leathery webbing of his wings and underbelly a dark purple, the colour of midnight and the trees in Satorl Marsh. His broad, stocky body was covered in spikes and ended in four powerful clawed feet. His wings also ended in spiked tips and his head was crowned by several sharp spiny crests. He perched with his tail wrapped around a boulder and stared at the newcomer with feline intensity. At least Arsene didn't feel like prey. Abaasy was obviously far beyond the intelligence level of a beast, maybe of any kind of mortal.
Suddenly, he heard speech directly in his mind, as though they were his own thoughts. He resisted the urge to flinch. The voice was slow and deep.
"I can sense the Monado on you," said the voice that could only have come from the dragon, "Not as a wielder, but as someone who has tapped into it. I was told about you. You have been picking up leakages from the Monado, have you not? Visions. Power you shouldn't have yet."
"I am a Bunnit, and an Emperor-to-be. There is no power I should not have," opined Arsene, "It is true that I have visions, though, and I am curious to know what they are."
"You can speak to me through your thoughts in return, if it is easier," Abaasy advised him, "You have heard of the Monado?"
"I only know that it is a blue blade of light, powerful and very dangerous, and it appears in my visions."
"It is the sword of the Bionis. It can potentially hold all the power of the Bionis," explained Abaasy, "The person who it has been given to, and the fact that it has an intended wielder at all, is what makes it so dangerous, though. The Monado only truly awakens when great changes are going to wrack the world. Both worlds. These changes could be enough to destroy both the Bionis and the Mechonis. And the wielder - one of the eight known as the Great Threat - is a Homs who has been given great power, maybe more than ours. A Homs will not spare us. He will invade our homes and hunt us for sport. Before, even an army of Homs didn't really have the power to wipe us out, but the power of this Homs is very different. The Bionis will not instruct him to leave us alone, either. The Bionis is like a force of nature. It doesn't show any mercy to anyone."
"I saw a Nopon as well," said Arsene, "I always suspected the Nopon would wipe us all out one day."
"The Nopon who is one of the Great Threat is just as dangerous," said Abaasy, "If they are left unchecked, they might one day destroy the world themselves. I'm telling you this because I want you to do something about it, Arsene."
"You want me to battle them?"
"You wouldn't win. And besides, it wouldn't solve the problem. They have a destiny to fulfill right now. Whatever the resolution of their quest, it will bring change and destruction," he said, "I want you to track them down, using your link to the Monado. I want you to warn others when they get too close to a settlement and stop them from wreaking too much havoc, maybe draw them away. Fight them if you must. You won't be able to slay them but you could delay or redirect them. You must learn to understand the nature of their quest as well, and report their progress in the quest back to me."
"This is a worthy mission for a would-be Emperor Bunnit," agreed Arsene, "But you still have not explained why I am having these visions, only where they come from. I am aware that the Imperial line is close to the Bionis, divine beings that we are, but I suspect there is another reason. If you know so much about this Monado, you must also know why I have the visions."
"I'm afraid I do not," said Abaasy, "I only know that the Monado's power should not be leaking like that, or giving power to those other than its intended wielder. It implies something very worrying - that the Monado is faulty in some way. If your family is sensitive to the power in some way, maybe it is genetic, to do with your particular primordial origin within the Bionis or your cells' resemblance to Bionis cells. Maybe you even have a rather unusual power to interact with the world in the same higher dimension as the Bionis. Whatever the case, you have that power, so you need to use it for something practical."
"Why is it you who is asking me, though? Why not the spirit of another Emperor Bunnit, for instance? We Bunnits have our own problems. We aren't supposed to get involved with giants and dragons and Mechon."
"Arsene, you are not only a Bunnit. You are Unique among Bunnits," said Abaasy, "The fellowship you were invited to by Final Marcus tonight is known as the Order of Uniques. All of us have some kind of trait or ability that makes us significantly and noticeably different from others of our species, something that puts us at a much higher power level. The founders and leaders are called the Sages. Marcus recommended to me that you join the Order as a full Sage. That is how vital a link to the Bionis is for our survival."
Arsene considered this. He remembered the way Daedala had said the word 'Unique', the way everyone looked at him when he told them about his talent. The way that the other Bunnits related to him only as a constant threat to their own position in society, to the extent that they were obsessed with taking him out of the picture now before it was too late. He hadn't really considered that they were terrified of him, that they saw someone far above their own power level, even by the standards of a strong Bunnit ruler.
"Why is Marcus in charge and not you?" he asked.
"Because being in charge is a job in itself, a constant responsibility, and I have enough tasks already, a lot of which take me far away from Three Sage Peak. Marcus is a good ruler. He likes to keep everything tidy and organised."
"One day I will rule the entirety of Bunnitdom," said Arsene, "I will also be very busy with the task. Are you not worried that I will have no time to complete my duties to your Order?"
"This is a concern of mine. I hope that the Great Threat will end soon, that the trouble with the Monado will not escalate, but I fear this is wishful thinking and that I secretly know better. However, you are the only one who can perform this task. No other Unique has the ability to channel Monado energy. That is the payoff for being truly Unique - you must use your ability. There is no choice. Otherwise, you cease to be yourself."
"There is a ceremony," Abaasy continued, "Ask Marcus to tell you about it. You need a Unique Name."
Arsene relayed the information and Marcus' eyes lit up. This was clearly his favourite part of his job.
"A Unique's descriptor name always means something special about you, that defines you," explained Marcus, "I am 'Final' because of my role within Giant society. When a tribe of giants is in decline and knows they will soon be no more, they choose someone to be the official last of their race. That person absolutely must survive until the last, no matter who else must die to preserve them, and they are charged with preserving and protecting the most important parts of that tribe's legacy and culture."
"I am 'Ancient' because I am the oldest living Mechon," said Daedala, "And I was created too long ago, lost too long ago, to be under Egil's control."
Arsene had no idea who Egil was but he kept quiet as Blizzard Belzegaas told him his own story, explaining in a low rumbling snarl that his Name originated from his close connection to Valak Mountain, a rather unique region in itself, and the fact that his powers grew much stronger in a blizzard, when the Mountain's rage and might were at their climax. Avalanche Abaasy explained that his Name was purely to do with his power level, so great that it could cause natural disasters if he did more than brush the mundane world with a fraction of it. Arsene could tell that it was no boast.
Then Marcus asked him to choose a Name for himself.
"Emperor Arsene?"
Marcus shook his head, "There are other Emperors. It is not something unique to you and it does not define you."
"Stupid-Looking Fur Arsene?"
Marcus laughed, "I'm afraid that defines almost the entire Nopon race."
"How about something to do with the Monado?"
"That business might end one day. This must be something permanent," said Marcus.
"How about something to do with your personality? Maybe your position as a ruler," suggested Belzegaas with a yawn. He had seen an Apis fluttering behind Abaasy and was clearly waiting for a chance to catch and eat it.
"Unpopular Arsene?"
"What makes you so unpopular?"
"I don't know and I don't care, to be honest," said Arsene, "They're probably all just jealous. Or they have really twisted personalities and are moping because I won't them do anything too utterly depraved or stupid. And because I won't start a war I can't win."
"What do you plan to do as a ruler, then?"
"I'm going to keep those maniacs under control. I'm going to rule with an iron fist, to get Bunnit society properly in order. No informal duels, only real tests of strength, no insubordination by my inferiors, no disrespecting elders or neutral territory. Sensible tactics for a conquering nation, not cowardice or recklessness. And no burrowing allowed anywhere near the Imperial Palace."
"How about Iron-Fisted Arsene?" suggested Belzegaas, "Or Dictatorial Arsene? Draconian Arsene? Fascist Arsene? Despotic Arsene?"
Arsene liked 'Despotic Arsene'. Somehow it sounded right. It was poetic. It made him sound strong and dangerous. It was easy to rattle off the tongue.
"Despotic Arsene," he agreed.
"Despotic Arsene it is," said Marcus, "We will have the ceremony tonight. Then a trial. Something appropriate, to prove you are worthy of your Name."
The ceremony lasted all night. There were long speeches, swaying and chanting, lots of Arsene standing still in the cold, in the middle of a ritual circle that stood between a crossroad of leylines and made him sneeze and his fur stand on end. After the official ceremony there was wild dancing, drinking vast quantities of mead and strong spirits, music and, mercifully, a huge bonfire. The Uniques had their own song, loud, powerful, fast-paced, like something huge crashing through the undergrowth and ambushing you from behind, pursuing you halfway across the world before cutting you down, something you didn't quite realise was more powerful than it should be and that you won't ever forget the name of again.
The song was called 'You Will Know Our Names'.
