Fic: Destruction's Confidant - Chapter 3
Title: Destruction's Confidant: Chapter 3.
Author: Locust
Rating this Chapter: PG-13
Pairings: None. Nope.
Warnings: Creepy shit. Hallucinatory sequence.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
“What do you mean, I called you here to begin with!?” Orlaag asked, no longer able to isolate the fear he felt from his voice and gestures. The intense, white light from Salacia’s eyes was beginning to hurt his head, but he couldn’t bring himself to look away. It would have been no trouble at all for Salacia to entirely possess the other man’s will right then and there - the ability to link with and manipulate the minds of the deeply religious came automatically to him (he could do this with the more worldly-minded as well, but not without considerable effort and energy expenditure). However, Salacia needed his connection to the earthly plane to come to serve him in one piece; that is to say, he would need to come to terms with his fate in a state of self-awareness, rather than as a mere mindless pawn. Unfortunately, this man who had unconsciously committed himself to that role by summoning Salacia from the astral plane in a delirious trance was far from easy to lead in waking; clearly, it would take some effort to get him to accept their fated bond. Salacia would somehow have to bring the content of Orlaag’s unconscious mind - the very content that had led him to unwittingly bring forth Salacia - to his conscious attention. Salacia put his hands on Orlaag once more, as he had done that morning, using his mind-altering abilities only to make him temporarily less reactive - just to settle the other man’s nerves long enough to get him to listen.
“Your unconscious mind has been calling to me for some time now. I had no choice but to respond. Do you not remember the words you have been hearing in your dreams? The words you spoke in your sleep last night? Your unconscious self has been in communication with me through your dreams, and it was that part of yourself who called me here from the other side. You are more desirous of power - my power - than you have ever allowed yourself to be aware of.”
Orlaag suddenly felt nauseated with fear and frustrated confusion. He spoke up to respond, looking up at Salacia with glazed and melancholic eyes, his voice quiet and his words a bit slurred from the sedating effects of Salacia’s energy. “Then why did you tell me you were-”
“Be quiet!” Salacia growled abruptly, tightening his grip on Orlaag’s upper arms. As he did this, Orlaag felt the bitter, nervous sickness that had come over him dissolving in ethereal waves of opiate warmth, despite the fact that Salacia’s long, tapered nails were now digging into his skin through his clothing. “You asked me to tell the truth - to give you straight answers, did you not? That is what I am doing, and you will let me do it! You were not easy to deceive… I am thankful for that.”
“Just what exactly do you mean?” Orlaag asked, his voice carrying a sort of blunted desperation.
“I mean that I will need you as much as you need me… and I cannot be expected to count on someone who is weak of mind and spirit. You are unstable, conflicted, and vulnerable, but you are not weak.”
“And what is it you need me for, Salacia?” A small pang of cloaked dread surged through him as he began to form associations in his mind based on the texts he had studied nearly his entire life - the very texts he had withdrawn from the world to contemplate. He wondered if this man in front of him who called himself Salacia (a name associated with the ocean, which played a major role in the Prophecy) could be the Half Man, and if he could be the one the Half Man was fated to choose as his trusted servant and confidant.
“Will you allow me to show you psychically?” Salacia asked quietly.
“Please. I need to know,” Orlaag replied in a resigned tone. If that was to be his fate, he felt he should at least be aware of it, rather than attempt to deny it, or worse yet, to play God and fight it.
With that, Salacia lifted one hand in front of Orlaag’s face. His hand was surrounded by a brilliant, crystalline lavender glow that Orlaag felt his consciousness pulled into as if that light were a current of water. Within that light, he saw Salacia’s true nature, and he saw his own fate as the servant of the Half Man. He saw manifestations of his own unconscious will; demonic creatures encased in golden and ianthine light that formed strange, almost grid-like patterns around them - the light of the universe as channeled by egoic urges, and the essences of ego and negativity formed in flesh. He wanted more than anything for absolutely none of this to be true, but he could no longer allow himself to expend emotions of fear and despair on something he could not change. When the thought of escaping this fate by death flickered across his mind, his thoughts were interrupted by visions of what would happen if he were to do that - if he died now, the world would be destroyed at that very moment, without the chance of being saved by the foretold heroes. There was no hope for any sort of divine intervention unless the Prophecy was allowed to play out as it was written.
After what felt like many hours of immersion in this visionary state, Salacia lowered his hand from Orlaag’s face back to his arm, releasing the other man’s consciousness from his psychic projection. As the ascetic slowly returned to normal consciousness, he was breathing heavily, as if physically exhausted. He could barely stand, let alone speak. His skin was clammy and his eyes had a glazed, far-off look to them. Gradually, his senses and strength returned to him as Salacia held him upright. Even though his mind had returned to a normal state, he had no words at that moment for what he had just seen.
Author: Locust
Rating this Chapter: PG-13
Pairings: None. Nope.
Warnings: Creepy shit. Hallucinatory sequence.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
“What do you mean, I called you here to begin with!?” Orlaag asked, no longer able to isolate the fear he felt from his voice and gestures. The intense, white light from Salacia’s eyes was beginning to hurt his head, but he couldn’t bring himself to look away. It would have been no trouble at all for Salacia to entirely possess the other man’s will right then and there - the ability to link with and manipulate the minds of the deeply religious came automatically to him (he could do this with the more worldly-minded as well, but not without considerable effort and energy expenditure). However, Salacia needed his connection to the earthly plane to come to serve him in one piece; that is to say, he would need to come to terms with his fate in a state of self-awareness, rather than as a mere mindless pawn. Unfortunately, this man who had unconsciously committed himself to that role by summoning Salacia from the astral plane in a delirious trance was far from easy to lead in waking; clearly, it would take some effort to get him to accept their fated bond. Salacia would somehow have to bring the content of Orlaag’s unconscious mind - the very content that had led him to unwittingly bring forth Salacia - to his conscious attention. Salacia put his hands on Orlaag once more, as he had done that morning, using his mind-altering abilities only to make him temporarily less reactive - just to settle the other man’s nerves long enough to get him to listen.
“Your unconscious mind has been calling to me for some time now. I had no choice but to respond. Do you not remember the words you have been hearing in your dreams? The words you spoke in your sleep last night? Your unconscious self has been in communication with me through your dreams, and it was that part of yourself who called me here from the other side. You are more desirous of power - my power - than you have ever allowed yourself to be aware of.”
Orlaag suddenly felt nauseated with fear and frustrated confusion. He spoke up to respond, looking up at Salacia with glazed and melancholic eyes, his voice quiet and his words a bit slurred from the sedating effects of Salacia’s energy. “Then why did you tell me you were-”
“Be quiet!” Salacia growled abruptly, tightening his grip on Orlaag’s upper arms. As he did this, Orlaag felt the bitter, nervous sickness that had come over him dissolving in ethereal waves of opiate warmth, despite the fact that Salacia’s long, tapered nails were now digging into his skin through his clothing. “You asked me to tell the truth - to give you straight answers, did you not? That is what I am doing, and you will let me do it! You were not easy to deceive… I am thankful for that.”
“Just what exactly do you mean?” Orlaag asked, his voice carrying a sort of blunted desperation.
“I mean that I will need you as much as you need me… and I cannot be expected to count on someone who is weak of mind and spirit. You are unstable, conflicted, and vulnerable, but you are not weak.”
“And what is it you need me for, Salacia?” A small pang of cloaked dread surged through him as he began to form associations in his mind based on the texts he had studied nearly his entire life - the very texts he had withdrawn from the world to contemplate. He wondered if this man in front of him who called himself Salacia (a name associated with the ocean, which played a major role in the Prophecy) could be the Half Man, and if he could be the one the Half Man was fated to choose as his trusted servant and confidant.
“Will you allow me to show you psychically?” Salacia asked quietly.
“Please. I need to know,” Orlaag replied in a resigned tone. If that was to be his fate, he felt he should at least be aware of it, rather than attempt to deny it, or worse yet, to play God and fight it.
With that, Salacia lifted one hand in front of Orlaag’s face. His hand was surrounded by a brilliant, crystalline lavender glow that Orlaag felt his consciousness pulled into as if that light were a current of water. Within that light, he saw Salacia’s true nature, and he saw his own fate as the servant of the Half Man. He saw manifestations of his own unconscious will; demonic creatures encased in golden and ianthine light that formed strange, almost grid-like patterns around them - the light of the universe as channeled by egoic urges, and the essences of ego and negativity formed in flesh. He wanted more than anything for absolutely none of this to be true, but he could no longer allow himself to expend emotions of fear and despair on something he could not change. When the thought of escaping this fate by death flickered across his mind, his thoughts were interrupted by visions of what would happen if he were to do that - if he died now, the world would be destroyed at that very moment, without the chance of being saved by the foretold heroes. There was no hope for any sort of divine intervention unless the Prophecy was allowed to play out as it was written.
After what felt like many hours of immersion in this visionary state, Salacia lowered his hand from Orlaag’s face back to his arm, releasing the other man’s consciousness from his psychic projection. As the ascetic slowly returned to normal consciousness, he was breathing heavily, as if physically exhausted. He could barely stand, let alone speak. His skin was clammy and his eyes had a glazed, far-off look to them. Gradually, his senses and strength returned to him as Salacia held him upright. Even though his mind had returned to a normal state, he had no words at that moment for what he had just seen.