The Seeds of Unrest: the Iconoclast Oracle

[beleos]

RUNNING OUT THE CLOCK

The situation is bleak.

The Blight - and the massive labyrinth of roots tearing both cities asunder, spreading deadly flowers wherever they penetrate - have progressed to a point beyond catastrophe. People are dying in rapid numbers. Bearers are having difficulty keeping up with the spread of infection - even among one another. The collapse of Kenos seems inevitable; a cure will not come in time. You can do nothing but watch as each new day brings further disaster, ticking down the seconds until it all falls apart.

And then, you feel something seize your Shard. As if physical fingers have wrapped around it, as if it is being clutched through you by invisible hands, you feel invaded. You feel wronged. But before you can panic, a voice enters your mind through Communion.

“Excuse the dramatics, but there isn’t much time for pleasantries. The Trees are about to hit the point of no return. But there's still work to be done. The Tree of Life will take you where you can find it: the Oracle and the creature causing all this mess. Fix this when you find them. However you'd like.”

Have you heard Aetos’ voice before? Perhaps it is the first time; perhaps it is familiar to you. Either way, the last thing you will remember is a confusing jumble: a spell of immense and incredible power, one utilizing the Tree’s strength to shelter you. The sensation of every cell in your body coming alive, yet seeming to break apart and render you into billions and billions of tiny pieces, all hovering in different times and places across all the different iterations, timelines, and realities in which you have ever existed. A voice that speaks not through words asking your forgiveness, unspeakably sad.

And then, there is nothing.

AWAKENING

Your eyes open, gritty with the feeling of a long, deep slumber.

Perhaps it takes a moment to shake off the heavy veil of exhaustion, to recollect what you were doing before you fell into this state of hibernation - but as soon as you do, you feel an immediate sense of foreboding around you. It is thick in the air, oppressive and pervasive, and you aren’t left long to wonder at its source. You lay beneath the branches of the Tree of Life, but as your bleary eyes focus… you see it. The Tree is all but bereft of life. Its bark has withered down to gnarled wood, the soft lichen dried up, and the grass that should be alive beneath you is long dead and gone. There is not so much as a single leaf on its decaying branches.

It has been this way for a long, long time... you realize this with a feeling of intense dread as you see it - the beautiful expanse of stars, of the cosmos, of universes scattered like starlight above the tree's boughs, gone. In its place hangs a sickly, ominously low-hanging, and dying sun ready to sing the end of everything.

You can't help but wonder how long Kenos has been in this state, but a sense of gratitude fills you as you realize that the Tree expended the last of its energies to protect you, the Bearers, during your state of rest. Had Aetos worked with the tree to see you sent here?

The next question comes quickly: how much time do you have left…? And can you find the Oracle before that time expires?

ABANDON HOPE (DAYS 1 & 2)

The cornerstones are still active and will take you to whichever city you wish to see.

Highstorm and Springstar sit like empty monuments to the cities that were once filled with life - yet the first thing you will notice is they are strangely absent the signs of the Tree’s overgrown roots, the Blight, the catastrophic damage that you can recall all too easily. Instead, each city sits as those they were summarily abandoned overnight, leaving nothing but their shells behind. There is a stillness in the air that is unnatural and unsettling. Despite the lack of any sign of the citizens of either city, you cannot help but feel… watched.

Something terrible happened here. Best you find the Oracle before something terrible finds you, instead.

The burning of a dying sun beats down on you wherever you go, unbearable heat sending waves off the aged cobblestone streets. Perhaps it is your instinct to seek refuge in the shade - but linger too long about the shadows and that feeling of eyes on your back, of being unable to breathe, of your world closing in around you will grow untenable and drive you back into the light. If you hope to explore the ghostly shell of your city in search of the Oracle - or to sate your curiosity, some problem-solving might be in order.

And while you acclimate yourself to your circumstances, you cannot help but note you feel wrong inside, somehow…

EXPLORATION

• If your characters choose to explore previously unreachable areas, please use THIS TOPLEVEL to report when they get there in the thread! We will get back to you with what is discoverable in that location.
• The following areas are off limits for exploration: below Yima’s Manor; below the Church of Heliopolis; Alenroux; Kowloon.
• The Great Trees of both Highstorm and Springstar are in a similar state to the Tree of Life and will not respond to Communion.
• Generally speaking, items will be of poor quality. Most will look as though they’ve aged thousands of years. Others will be in half-decent shape, but sparingly so. Oddly enough, it doesn’t seem like the whole city has aged at the same rate, so especially diligent rummagers can find worthwhile supplies. Please consider this should be rare and don’t go overboard!

NOTES

Here are some prompt reminders - see the full thing at the OOC Summary!

• Characters will have a diluted connection to the Zenith or Meridian.
• There will be periods powers are weakened or non-functional during days 1-2 (up to player discretion).
• The sunlight results in scorching; the shadows cause claustrophobia and fear while outdoors.

THE RITUAL (DAYS 2+)

The place you started your journey to Kenos is also where it seems it will end. As soon as the first Bearer makes contact with the Iconoclast effigy, you are collectively drawn to the roots beneath the Tree - like a pang sent through your Shard. Your objective has been found. The Oracle awaits.

Trusting Aetos seems like a fool's errand, but you must put your hope in the Tree. What choice do you have left? It's time to find what lies at the end of this.

Bearers descend, your steps echoing in the dark, cavernous space. Once brimming with life and vitality, the roots are now dried and brittle like the bones of some ancient leviathan that died long ago. As you make their way deeper into the earth, the deadened roots twist, leading you to a vast chamber deep within it; the air here is thick with the smell of decay, and the faint glow of luminescent fungi and mosses barely illuminates the space.

To your left, the Bearers will notice what has drawn them here - and the object of their search.

An effigy sits on the ground between two darkened tunnels. The effigy is made of gnarled, dead branches woven together in a humanoid shape; its hollow, empty eyes are sightless, yet you cannot help but feel it is watching your every move. Branded on its forehead is the Iconoclast symbol carved into the rough wood.

Once all Bearers are present, the Ritual will begin. Your means of exit have been sealed off, and you are trapped, slowly deteriorating together…

NOTES

• Bearers will have access to the Ritual Chamber which is a very wide, open space with the effigy situated against the far wall from the entrance. Several smaller tunnels off-shoot from the Ritual Chamber. They all run to dead ends; some are very small or narrow. This may afford you meager privacy away from the group.
• Once a Bearer steps into the Chamber, they can no longer head back out the way they came. They’ll find themselves automatically walking back into the Chamber as if of their own volition.
• For brevity’s sake we won’t list them out again here, but the complete description of effects Bearers will experience days 2+ is available in the OOC Summary.
• The effigy is impervious to damage.
• It Is Watching You.
• In a dead-end root tunnel attached to the Iconoclast’s Chamber is the Blighted statue of an Otter that may be familiar to some… Please see THIS TOPLEVEL for more information!

THE PURGE (DAYS 5+)

The sap has festered in your veins for what feels like days. It’s impossible to tell how much time has passed; this place has no sunlight. The effigy watches as you remain trapped, huddled together around it, unable to leave as you find yourself sick with the affliction of the Meridian, Zenith - or both.

And then… something finally gives.

Though it does not move and speaks no words, you feel the effigy offering you guidance. Knowledge. Much like the Tree speaks to you in impressions and feelings, you are conveyed wisdom you did not have before: a way to take what you want and rid yourself of what you do not. A way to make your convictions known to all who would hear them. A way to be known. To write your path in blood, be it yours… or theirs.

When all is said and done, only one force - Zenith or Meridian - will gain its favor.

Show it who you are. Show it what resolve looks like to you - and what you are willing to do to attain it.

NOTES

Here are some prompt reminders - see the full thing at the OOC Summary!

• You can Purge your alignment through various methods: Trading, Corrupting, or using the Effigy itself.
• All characters will understand the end goal is for everyone to Harmonize; the alignment with the higher rate of Harmonized Bearers alive when time’s up wins the Oracle’s favor.

NOTES

• A reminder that the Harmonization tally will take place on Friday, the 19th and be open through Monday, the 29th. The results will be released on Wednesday, the 31st OOCly.
• Don’t forget to submit any deaths to the Death Tracker, with a gentle reminder characters will remain dead until the event conclusion!
• Reminder to fill out the SETTING POLL ASAP if you haven't already!
• Have some MUSIC if you'd like. LYRICS here!
• HAVE FUN!!

CODING

Comments

the archivist | zenith, harbinger

[eyesite]

( plotting comment here! these will be closed starters. my plate is pretty full for him, but should anything arise from occurrences in the event that necessitate an interaction, please feel free to reach out to me via PM, plurk, or discord! )

link:

[eyesite]

( john would prefer to see the Iconoclast's ordeal as that which checks the veracity and strength of one's convictions — that those who Harmonize and cling to the ideals of either faction for feeble or petty reasons would find those challenged and ultimately broken. despite how some might view him, he is ultimately uninterested in gaining anyone to Zenith's cause that isn't strong in their personal decisions to Harmonize as such. they would only hobble their coalition in the future; their thin determination would dilute their trust. and as far as Meridian is concerned... there is a grim and tactical part of him that thinks it's a long-term benefit, to allow those that might one day self-destruct and potentially bring down some of their once-allies along with them to remain among their ranks. it's the logical part of him, though morality and emotion dictate more along the lines that he would prefer an opponent strong in their principles rather than one operating on alternative means.

for one: actions of the former are far easier to read anticipate than the latter. for another: if this were a good and fair competition between two equal forces, struggling for the fate of all that is, it would be determined by those of such strong faith. but he is of few illusions. this conflict, just like those who wage it, is not good or fair or equal, and they will have to do all that they can do to try to guarantee the eventuality they desire. that's the way of kenos, just as it has been in nearly any other world.

violence is a rule written into the margin of those written in stone. perhaps it might not have been intended in this ordeal (or perhaps it had been all along), but it is a byproduct nonetheless. some Shard-Bearers have turned to violence, and bereft of the only ability he has to defend himself, john makes himself scarce. though there is no true escape from the ritual chamber, there are tunnels which shoot off from it like spokes from a wheel. he finds himself in one of these now, laying low as desperation among those seeking how all will finally Harmonize reaches a fever pitch.

but he is not alone.

the tunnel ahead of him is a dead end — he knows this already — and soft footsteps approach from the direction of the ritual chamber. he's effectively trapped; he just has to hope it's not by someone who would wish to do him harm. if there was anyone who might think to help him, they are far enough remote from them that he doubts they would make it in time. the stranger still approaches, and john is tense in his silence, unsure of what to do. he decides only as the stranger rounds around a bend and to the place that he had been hidden, largely doing so in a split second; he clears his throat, raising his hands to reveal empty palms, the right marred by a whorl of burn scars. ) Try not to be too startled. ( said somewhat dryly; this is just the type of situation where it's hard not to be. ) I don't mean you any harm.

( well. not physically, anyway. john is not and will likely never be one for physical violence, though mental and emotional... is often a different story.

of course, he now just has to basically hope that this young man, who he has spoken to and received a statement from before but who he has never met, has similar peaceful intentions. in this moment, however, john hasn't yet recognized him. )

[bakedapple]

[ Convictions can be a funny thing sometimes. A strong enough conviction can get a person to the finish line where lesser dedication would not. So much of what people devote themselves to, no matter what it is, comes down to commitment — high skill means nothing without the drive to use it. Then, of course, there is the other side of the coin, in which no degree of determination can overcome a deficiency in ability. Everyone has their own mental and physical limitations, whether they be a commoner or a Shard-Bearer, an academic or a warrior.

John feels that he is without the one ability he has to defend himself in their present dour circumstances, but when everyone is without their normal strength, the clarity of his mind constitutes an advantage. And as Link shuffles towards him, one hand against the root-covered wall to help him stay upright as he walks, the Hylian's comparative disadvantage is clear.

He's exhausted. Mentally, physically, spiritually. He spent the last month working himself to the bone to help as many people in Springstar as he possibly could — with the exception of his death, which took him out for over a week and which he has had no time whatsoever to process since it happened. No, there was simply too much to do, too many innocents to try to help and save from the Blight, for him to spend any time taking care of himself. Even after Akua chastised him, and even after Link found himself agreeing with her, the need to do more was too great.

Not that there was much that could be done. As the days went on, relief efforts turned into recovery efforts. He was pulling so many dead bodies out of rubble in the days prior to Aetos' message that they blur together in this head. The Blight was beginning to infect his entire body, even after the sparse handful of blood trades he stopped to do. Not, in this dead and unmoving version of Kenos, the effects of the Blight are gone, but he finds himself burdened with a question he can't put out of his mind: had everything he'd done been pointless?

Two days wandering the lifeless, decomposed cities, and another three trapped in these dark dirt tunnels with the others, has worn down whatever was left of his mental endurance. Scavenging had barely produced a single day's worth of food; the stress of intense hunger feels like he has heavy weights strapped to every limb. And then there's all the screaming, of course. Can't forget that. Kenos' finest, the wayward souls plucked from the timestream by Yima to compete for the multiverse's future, are either resorting to base violence or paralyzed by the prospect of it. Link has never been one averse to violence, but... this? Being asked to kill people who are largely complete strangers? Even those he's met are acquaintances at best. And with what? His bare hands? Flaking, crumbling bits of roots and twigs down in these tunnels? He didn't become a solider to hurt his fellow man. The role of the Hero is not to fight indiscriminately or when it is convenient, but out of necessity, and only against the forces of evil.

But there's no evil here. Not here, where everyone is being confronted with the real possibility that claiming this Oracle will do nothing to get them out of this dead world at the end of everything.

So he barely responds when he hears John's voice. It registers as familiar, but he can't place it with all of everything swirling in his head. He needs to Trade, he knows it, if only to get this despair and hopeless to stop plaguing him, but... again: what was the point? ]

I... You...

[ Swallowing dryly (he is so thirsty. if he had the Master Sword, he'd trade it for a mouthful of water right now.), he squints through the darkness in the direction of the voice. The outline of a man is barely visible. He doesn't mean him any harm, he says, but Link is so fragile that he probably wouldn't be able to fight back against someone determined enough to wrestle him to the ground. Motivation is nothing without the ability to do anything about it. ]

Who...?

[eyesite]

( perhaps he should be grimly grateful for all of the terror and harrowing ordeals he had weathered while working in the Archives prior to coming there — they had, after all, at the very least prepared him for situations like this. not to say he's entirely prepared, of course; the intrinsic horror of their situation does not escape him (he might actually be the one best-equipped to see it, to feel it, to have a finger to its very skipping pulse each second of every day), but he feels strangely removed from it. by this point he has traded much of his Meridian energy away and has felt assuaged by the sensation of Zenith which flows in to take its place. being trapped in these tunnels is not ideal, yes, but he is certain it could be far worse. even though his body seems to remember its need for food and water, these needs scratching at the back of his mind seem like dull and distant echoes from the true hunger that the Eye imposes — having taken not only silco's statement but also having read link's prior to aetos' voice calling them all out from their version of kenos, he's rather satisfied in that regard.

so he is, perhaps, insulated from many aspects of how terrible things have gotten down here. or perhaps, after recovering from his own death recently, he has felt only barely tethered to his own sensibilities of humanity — it makes it harder to feel all of those things, running fraught throughout the Shard-Bearers as they are. it makes it harder to care, but for those he already has a vested interest in or those that intersect with his very specific ideals.

he hasn't met this young man in person, but he is one of those people who falls under these specifications. he is drawn to others who hail from worlds and backgrounds similar to his own — those that had already ended, by most's approximation — darkly intrigued by how they sought to deal with it. and, more often than not, how it differed from his own.

link doesn't look well. really, that's a bit of an understatement, but having likely seen glimpses of him in the last few days, he can tell he has only gotten worse. john's feeling of human sympathy might be dulled by his Discord and everything else, but he still feels a pang of something resonate in his heart for the young man; he has already tasted his fear, felt it for himself... it's a bond, to him, stronger than even Communion, and it is far more difficult to drown out. )

We've spoken. You - you offered your fear to me, when I asked. ( always a weird thing to say, but it's the truth. he steps forward, rounding around so that he is slightly more illuminated by some dimly florescent fungi nearby.

even though he does so, his eyes still seem so dark; pits of shadow carved out beneath his brow, endlessly deep and ceaselessly watchful. ) Link, are you - ah, well, I know you're not well. ( he frowns slightly. ) Is there anything I can do to help?

( he certainly owes the young man for his kindness in sending him a statement. )

[bakedapple]

Oh — you... Your name was... John, was it...?

[ Relief washes over his worn features. Although it's hardly akin to a second wind, he picks up his head and draws closer to him, lifting his hand away from the root-covered wall as he does.

The dim lichen casts dark shadows across his face, but as haggard as he looks, his youth is apparent. Or, his apparent youth, at least — John is one of a handful of people, and the only Zenite, who knows about Link's true age, and the tragic circumstances that lead to his 100 year long stasis. Link knows this fact, and the fact that he shared that much and more with him several months ago, but it does not register in his mind as a risk factor, as something that could be used against him. He'd needed it to sustain himself, hadn't he? And the taint of the Zenith in his Shard, still ferociously strong despite having a few trades under his belt already, keeps enveloping whatever caution he might normally have within a shroud of what was the point.

Nevertheless, he looks at John with a glimmer in his eyes. Maybe... one more time. Maybe one more trade will do it. ]

Do I look that bad? [ yes, Link, you really do. He's still got his babyface but he looks like he hasn't slept in a week. And, really, he basically hasn't. ] I'm sorry, I... I'm still under the horrible spell this place cast on us. Would you... I hate to impose, but...

[eyesite]

( he nods. ) Yes, that's correct.

( there is a certain level of uncontrollable sympathy that he can exhibit for those that have shared statements with him, particularly those that have submitted them to him willingly. it's simply an aspect of who and what he is as the Archivist. the process is not him delivering the fear and handing it off to the Eye to consume — no, he would be so lucky that his involvement was so off-handed. instead, in inscribing others' fears onto himself and feeling them with the same fervency as their originator, he becomes the mediator — he becomes the very substitute that the Eye "feeds" from through their indelible bond. he had read link's experience, and, in doing so, he had felt the fear and pain and despair he had felt in it as if they were his own.

it's hard not to feel a sort of kinship to someone after something like that. and then there was the added similarity in link's world — one that was on the brink of total annihilation, though, rather than the one that john had left behind (which had already toppled over the edge).

john... is not a good liar. he considers giving it an attempt, but when link poses the question and looks to him so earnestly, he can't help but reflect it at least in part. but he at least attempts to answer in a way that doesn't single him out: ) We're all going through Hell, and we all look the part. I might be more concerned if you appeared otherwise.

( a feeble attempt at assuaging him accompanied with a similarly feeble smile, but it's the best he's got.

the request, though... his smile fades. it's not that he's against the idea — he still has Meridian to trade. ) Yes... I - I think I am able to help. ( he pauses, then gestures to a level portion of the cavern nearby. ) I have some questions to ask you first, though, if you wouldn't mind. Would you sit with me for a moment?

[bakedapple]

[ Questions, he says. Link isn't sure what sort of questions he could have at a time like this, but he doesn't challenge it. To a certain extent, he finds comfort in the fact that he's found a Zenite who isn't actively trying to maim or murder someone. Someone he already knows he can trust with his private thoughts, nevermind the vulnerable and weakened state he finds himself in.

So he nods, and offers his own feeble smile, even after John's has faded. With a sigh, Link collapses in the spot John invited him to sit and leans back against the curved cavern wall like he's reclining in an armchair. ]

Is it... about what I sent you?

[ He asks quietly, head tilted back and eyes closed. His tone is soft and even. As horrible as the memory is, he isn't afraid to talk about it. ]

[eyesite]

( when is there ever a bad time to have questions? john feels as though he's never found one — well before he had begun working for the Magnus Institute, he had primarily been motivated by seeking out answers for the types of questions they weren't readily available for, so he doesn't even consider that the timing of such a thing here and now would be considered strange.

john will likely never be the type of person to go after someone with the intent of hurting or killing them. it's just not really his style (well, not unless you get to "jonah magnus" levels of personal grudges, but that would be extremely difficult). but it would likely be a mistake to discard him out of hand as a concern simply because he isn't a physical threat; information is his weapon, and he's very good at obtaining it.

but that's not necessarily his aim here with link. strangely enough, most of the statements he's received in kenos have been given to him directly, so he'd been able to ask questions and really pry at others' thoughts and feelings on what they'd shared. link, having sent his to him in writing (and with a visual aid, even), hadn't given him that luxury. and considering the situation they were in... it just makes him even more curious. )

Related to it, yes.

I'm curious less about the event that you described, but rather the - the state of your world, what it was like when you left it behind and were brought here. You mentioned that there was a "Calamity," and that there was a war that was lost...

( this all feels a little too broad. he tries to find a way to narrow it to a more concise question. ) If you were to go back, what sort of world would you go back to?

[bakedapple]

[ There is a moment of quiet following the question. Link looks almost serene, leaning back against the wall with his eyes closed — if one were to stumble across him as he is now, he might appear to be asleep at first glance. But his mind, his soul, the inner space that swirls around and within his Shard, is anything but calm. Perhaps it's a good thing John was to talk before doing the Trade. Link can still attempt to play the part of a hero who has everything together, struggling with nothing more than a blip of strife in the course of his destiny. That's the person he knows he needs to be, and is trying to be, even in this horrible situation.

John's question is a fair one. Link didn't include any of those details in what he wrote to him. He'd asked for his fear, after all — not his baseline, his "normal." ]

...if you're picturing a war-torn world... well. I guess that actually is an accurate way to describe it. But it's not... it isn't all fire and death. I've been told that there was a time when Hyrule was like that, for years after the Calamity happened, but the Hyrule that I know is...

[ He trails off. Words are not his currency. He doesn't know how much schooling he received when he was a boy — those memories are gone, and probably lost forever — but he knows he's no scholar. The hero has no use for a silver tongue, so perhaps that's why the Goddesses chose not to bless him with talents of persuasion. But... there are many moments where he finds himself needing words anyway. Like right now.

Opening his eyes, he looks up at John, his exhaustion softening his gaze. ]

...it's beautiful, actually. Lonely and scarred, and full of monsters, but green... blessed with trees and animals. Enough time has passed for nature to return. [ He glances away. A part of him senses that he's done a poor job with describing it. Hyrule means so much more to him than that.

If there's one thing he does want John to know, it's this. ] It isn't a dead world, if that's what you're imagining.

[eyesite]

( it's not a statement, so the only picture john is given is the one he can paint with link's words alone. he isn't sure what he's expecting. perhaps there's a part of him that wishes that anyone who comes from a world seemingly torn asunder by what many might consider an apocalypse to resemble his own — a desiccated and ruined corpse of what it once was, cut to pieces that were divided between avatars of fear as their wardens, their gardeners, so the souls consigned to each domain of specific, personal fear could be raised and reaped to their greatest potential. when he remembers it, he thinks of how horrible it had been, but there is some deep and removed part of himself that had been impressed with this efficient and orderly architecture of terror that jonah magnus had managed to construct. perhaps that part of him is the part closest to the Eye, through which they both share a mutual bond.

link might believe that he's done a poor job, but john doesn't think so. still, his reaction isn't necessarily a positive one. it's open, but it's distant and grieved, grateful that link's hyrule had managed to rise from its ashes but... he knows that couldn't be the case for his own world.

when they had come forth to enter the physical plane, the Dread Powers had overwritten the laws of nature and reality to suit their needs. nothing would ever grow in the soil of his world ever again — nothing that wasn't sick, twisted, and bent towards fear and suffering. )

Good. I'm glad that - that it sounds like there's hope for you, there.

( he sounds genuine because he is. even if it's something that alienates them from one another, it's not as though he would wish the fate of his world on anyone else's, regardless of how much misery might want company. )

So once you return... if you are able to defeat this, this "evil" that caused the Calamity in the first place, is that it, then? You would have saved it from both Oblivion and this Calamity.

[bakedapple]

[ Those words make Link open his eyes. When he looks to John, there's a subtle and soft but noticeable thread of skepticism on his face. He's... happy that there's hope for him, back in his world...? That strikes him as such a strange thing for a Zenite to say. Happy for you, but looking forward to taking that possibility away at the same time? Or perhaps John is not as committed to Yima's promise as some other Zenites are? He tries to remind himself of that, to tell himself that he knows nothing about this man except that he needs people's fears to survive, but... well. They're here in these tunnels in opposition to each other. And even though the state of this sun-blasted Kenos and the fate of the Tree seems to have foreclosed either of their factions from obtaining their goals, Link's understanding continues to be that if the Zenith wins, he will never see his home again. Not Zelda, not Sidon, not any of the rolling green hills or snow-capped mountains or palm-lined beaches. None of it.

He does not feel anger towards John. The man has done nothing to offend or upset him specifically. It's this damned world and the damned position it's put them all in that has him looking away as John asks his follow-up question. Instead of answering immediately, there is a short silence in which Link begins to rifle through the rocks around his feet, looking for a sharp one to use to draw his blood for their Trade. ]

...yes. Or, that's the idea.

[ ah. here's a good rock. Link holds it up in the low light of the glowing lichen, dragging the pad of his thumb over its sharp, arrowhead-like edge. John's question is... sticking in his mind, actually. He's not done answering it, but he finds himself having to take another moment to choose his words, between his exhaustion and frustration and the influence of the Zenith still tainting his soul. ]

I mean... everything we know about it is from legends... [ he trails off, considering. then: ] It showed itself ten thousand years ago, and was defeated back then as well... and even before that, for thousands of years, over and over. It used to be... a man. Or that's what the myths say. A man who wanted to rule in place of the monarch with divine right, so fervently that his malice stays with him between lifetimes.

[ So in other words, to more directly answer John's question....... no, actually. He would save his Hyrule, but the Hyrule of future generations is cursed to face the same threat over again. But the weight of this does not seem to have struck Link, even after explaining it. It's so inherent to his universe, so central to his own sense of self and his role to play in the Goddesses' eternal conflict, that he has never truly questioned it. ]

[eyesite]

( he doesn't think of it that way. he can't. not because it isn't true or applicable, because it is absolutely both, but if he started to view his decision to strive towards Zenith's ultimate ends as anything but the sole use it is providing for him in drowning his world in Oblivion and ensuring that any and all trace of the Fears go with it, he will end up breaking in a way that's not reparable. he doesn't do this because it will destroy the chance for others to return to their worlds (he doesn't do it in order to ensure such a thing either). it's an unfortunate incidental which he horribly, hypocritically, attempts to wash his hands of.

but it's a knife that cuts both ways. sure, perhaps it is just one world out of an infinite multitude, but would any one Shard-Bearer on Meridian's side like to look john in the eye and personally take the emotional burden of ensuring that every living soul in his world was once more damned to torture and be tortured for the rest of eternity? no, likely not any more than he would like to look link in the eye and consider that his dedication to Zenith would destroy this world that he fought for — that he has already given his life to protect.

it's just too terrible to consider. and so he doesn't.

for just a moment, john is content to let it rest at that. the worlds they leave behind are different, and their circumstances as well; he likes to believe they should be allowed to make whatever decision is best for them, based on what they feel is imperative to deal with this impossible choice they've been given. he doesn't want to force link's hand if that's the width and breadth of it.

but then he continues, and something grows still and dangerous within him, rising from the cavern of his chest to catch somewhere in his throat.

he forces it out as words, somewhat stilted. ) So... Even if you do succeed, it will only be until this, this — evil force which used to be a man returns to threaten your world once more?

( some would argue that ten thousand years is worth such a sacrifice. human history has only been recorded on earth for five thousand short years.

and yet...

something dark and despairing begins to unspool itself from somewhere at his core, something which mixes with the myriad phantom limbs of terror that the statements and resonates with them, with his own experiences — he hadn't even read it, it had been a statement martin had read for peter lukas when researching the Extinction, but he can't help but think of a young man who had wandered into the fields to hear a mysterious broadcast of seemingly random numbers which gave him a deep terror of impending doom. numbers that, when properly decoded, personified that nascent Fear which had never truly been born (or had it been there all along?): THE WORLD IS ALWAYS ENDING. those words have been close to him since arriving in kenos; here, where they feel perched on the precipice of the end of everything, they feel like they're a part of them. the selfsame sense of that impending, inevitable doom seeps into the current of their Communion like toxic runoff into a stream. )

If you can never truly defeat it - ...defeat him, ( he continues, his tone dark, heavy, almost oppressive, ) it's an eventual inevitably that he will one day succeed.

( he says it with unswerving certainty.

because, for as long as the Fears had distilled themselves from the inborn terror of living creatures and for as long as human beings had been aware of them enough to be affected by them, to serve them, to worship them, they have attempted rituals on their behalf. for thousands of years, those rituals have for one reason or another failed. but they could never be cut off at their source because the Dread Powers' influence would always find their way back to the world, so permeable to their blind, instinctual fumbling as it was.

thousands of years of failure, and one might think that they were always doomed to failure. but then jonah magnus had perceived from that quagmire the one pivotal point that they had all failed to miss, the single reason why all those rituals had failed, and he had taken advantage of that to finally enact one that succeeded.

john himself is the key he had forged, and that's why he's able to speak with such certainty right now; down to his very essence, he himself is the proof. )

[bakedapple]

[ Echoing against the recesses of his soul, transferred inadvertently through the heightened Communion that exists here below the dead Tree, Link hears it too. He feels it, that single, simple concept that carries a sentiment just as applicable to his world as it was to John's. The world is always ending.

The world is always ending.

Every time the Calamity had been defeated, it was not a true defeat. It was simply a resetting of the clock. A gift of peace to many lucky generations of Hyrule, paid for in the blood of the unlucky generation born around Ganon's subsequent reawakenings. A cycle that has gone on for tens of thousands of years in his world, each colossal disaster erasing hundreds of years of prosperity and wiping clean the slate of written history.

This concept hits him so hard, and so suddenly, and yet resonates with him so thoroughly as the truth, that Link nearly finds himself physically reeling from it. He's still blinking, reaching up with his shard-bearing hand to lay over his heart in an instinctive gesture of disquiet, as John continues to talk. Somehow, he manages to listen through the roar of the Zenith blazing within his Shard, his words acting like a gallon of gasoline thrown into the flames. ]

No. No, the... the Goddess wouldn't let that happen.

[ But even as he says that, he knows that it isn't true. Or, maybe it could be, but it's certainly not something that can be said with confidence. After all, the Calamity happened in the first place. More horrifying is the thought that what John is talking about has already happened. Hyrule is gone. They'd failed. If it never comes back, then... that was that. Ganon prevailed in the end, before the end. ]

You... [ He takes a ragged breath. ] Why are you saying these things?

[eyesite]

( it is the natural state of existence to decay — this is the natural law of entropy. ironically, once the Fears had finally gotten their way and rushed into the physical world to claim it as their own, this is one of the first laws that they had undone. almost universally ignorant of past and future, they sought to make the present eternal. a constant, ceaseless state of terror and pain for those lives trapped in the fabric of their domains which, of course, transcribed to a constant feast of fear for the Dread Powers and those avatars that carried out their will. but even in a world as twisted as john's, there is always something which places its hand upon the scale to cause things to slowly trend towards finality. for him, it had been Terminus, the End, the Fear of inevitable, inexorable Death. those that made their way through its domains did die, permanently, freed from the wheel that all the others would be tied to.

and when one of Terminus' domains was emptied of lives? what then? well, they could not be left fallow, so they would have individuals transferred to them from the other Fears'. and one day, so far into the future it's hard to even define it, they would be entirely barren. all the lives of Earth would have finally been spent, and the Fears would be left to riot and starve in their absence, trapped for all eternity. perhaps then, the End would have its last feast, feeding from the animal horror of its siblings.

one day, even Hell would end.

one day, kenos would too. they've now seen the proof.

john laughs, though it's a wounded and broken shard of a sound. ) In all my time recording and researching the statements of those who have encountered the supernatural, I've never once been given a statement of a miracle. If there are gods and goddesses... they either don't interfere, or they can't.

( gods and goddesses walk among them here on kenos. how can link think that they might be any less powerless than they are?

john has long since stopped wasting his time thinking of such things. he had once hoped (perhaps even gone so far as to consider praying) that there were "good" entities, diametrically opposed to the Fears, which could be relied upon to combat them. there aren't. just as it is in life, it is a matter of those that feed and those that are fed upon. faith and miracles have nothing to do with it.

he doesn't intend on hurting link. later, he will regret it. but it is the shameful, foolish nature of someone in pain to lash out and try to drag others with them — for a drowning man to thrash and cling to those also fighting for their own lives so they might both sink to the depths. )

Because they're the truth.

( regardless of whether or not that's true, he speaks with ironclad conviction. )

Because I have never seen, read, or felt anything to convince me otherwise.

[bakedapple]

[ At the edges of Link's perception, a harrowing darkness starts to enclose around him. It is quiet and gentle, but it encroaches without permission, unceremonious in its intent to snuff the last of the Meridian from his soul. His Shard, normally warm to the touch, feels freezing cold, prickling the skin on the back of his hand. Where his palmis laid over his heart, it saps the body heat underneath it — but no, it is not absorbing that heat, but obliterating it outright.

The state of his mind is just as grave. A voice — his own voice — wails sorrowfully that John is right, that Hyrule, and all worlds, and this world too, are all doomed. The young Hylian has seem immeasurable loss in his short yet unnaturally long life, and every ounce of it the seed for a pound of grief. That grief is greater than any burden the Goddesses could have saddled him with. A responsibility for the deaths of countless victims, the enslavement of the ghosts of his friends, and one hundred years of suffering by his princess. Saving Hyrule has been about his redemption, just as much as it was ever about saving his people — but he will never find the redemption he seeks, will he. Even if he did, it would all fall apart eventually. It would all trend towards collapse and disaster.

What's the point of fighting to survive if you will always lose in the end?

The last of his hope is vanishing fast, like an ice cube thrown into a blaze. Only a few more seconds and it would be completely burnt away, replaced by the brand of the Zenith on his soul. But then, cutting through the miasma, is a sharp, horrible pain in his hand. His other hand. Like a screeching alarm clock, it interrupts the spiral long enough for Link's mind to come up for air, just long and barely enough for him to look down at the searing pain. In his hand, his other hand, is the sharp rock he'd picked up for the purpose of drawing his blood for the Trade. He was squeezing his hand so hard that arrow-like point of the stone was driven deep into his palm and now scrapes against his metacarpals.

Gasping, he drops the rock. Gooey, viscous, blood-colored sap begins to ooze uncontrollably from the deep wound. Staring down, watching the foreign compound bleed from his body, gives him a strange and new kind of clarity. This, he knows. Pain and injury. The fear of another death, of becoming permanently disabled in some way such that he could never complete his goals. This hand is his sword hand. He needs this hand. What would he do if he couldn't hold a sword anymore?

What would he do. How would he spend his days. What would he look forward to? And this is the core flaw with the Zenith, at least insofar as it has any application in Link's life. If he were to abandon Hyrule, to stop caring about its fate, then he would essentially abandon the meaning of his very life. He would have no reason to go on, no reason to care about any world, including the new world promised by Yima. If there is "no point" in trying to save his home, there is no point in trying to make a new one either. Because if all of it is pointless then all of it is pointless.

A glowing warmth suddenly rushes back into his Shard. Taken by a sudden panic, Link jumps to his feet, clutching his right hand in his left. He turns and stares down at John with wide, intense eyes. ]

What was that? What did — what are you trying to do to me?

[ He's stunned, angry, hurt, and betrayed. John had just tried to corrupt him, hadn't he? To force himself into Link's soul. To change his mind, to hurt him. His other emotions give way to his anger now. Very few things make the level-headed and mild-mannered Hero openly, visibly angry. Betrayal is one of those things, and at the moment, he is feeling very betrayed. ]

How dare you. How dare you try to... lead me astray...!