Knowledge's Realm

[Ephemeris]

The burnished sky of Ephemeris, the scholar’s idyll, rang to the bellow of a god on one endless summer afternoon. Thunderheads were massing beyond Mount Improbable and its lesser range; Castle Conjecture and the Mercury Sea were being lashed by the precursor to a vicious thunderstorm that would later sweep down onto the central bowl, but for now the golden capital, Sunshadow, bathed in the eternal sunshine.

“Casiran!” came the strident roar, crackling across the landscape like the approaching summer storm and making the cypress trees in picturesque array bend their sculpted forms. Scholars looked up from their work, startled, at the sound; took one look outside and pulled their windows firmly closed, turning back to their books and scrolls with a little more vigour than was perhaps strictly necessary. Powerful wizards, disturbed from their studies, took a look about Ephemeris with an eye honed by aeons of long practice, and then dug out all their old research that would require them to spend hours in the depths of their cellars under the towers, leaving their assistants and spirits to do the sky-work they usually kept for themselves.

In the glittering courts of the cities, Machiavellian luminaries heard the call and speculated about whatever great event must be afoot down on Braesorn. Court wizards by the score were summoned to reflecting pools and focused down onto the mortal world, in preparation for whatever was to occur.

Seconds after the booming bellow, a darker streak blazed across the sky from the eastern periphery of the dominion, heading for the towers and terraces of Keep Ephemeris itself, bulking in rose-wrapped splendour at the centre of fabled Sunshadow.

The oldest and most striking of all the Radiant Servants - those blazing luminaries who burned with the fire of the stars themselves - Casiran was the Marshal of Castle Conjecture, charged with defending the gates of the realm. His was the mastery of the Mercury Sea, its argentine waves matching his moonlight plates and the lightning from Ephemeris' thunderstorms that howled in across it the perfect counterpart to his wings of electric blue energy, six radiant fans of blazing electricity, flashing and flaring behind his form.

Obedient to his master's call, Casiran landed lightly on the mosaiced Sunset Terrace, high on the western face of the enormous palace, looking out over the plains. The Mercury Sea glimmered in the far distance, a great mirror reflecting the sky; clear on this side of the realm and unobscured by thunderstorm or the Probable range that curled across the eastern half.

Banners waved lazily in the summer breeze, the near-black roses in their ornate planters ranged around the terrace and its balconies nodded serenely, their scents intoxicatingly heady and disorienting to any mortal, and some of the lesser immortals, too. Casiran headed for the entryway, a simple gap in the outer wall of one of the inner corridors, down a short, semicircular flight of stairs. He paid no heed to the empty silver chair - its simple, elegant lines and discreet decoration suggesting 'throne' without trumpeting it to the rooftops - that looked emptily out at the leagues of Ephemeris, nor to the Servant guards who blazed up - both brilliant white - as he approached.

Half a mile up - as the Servants flew - even from the Terrace, was the Camera Obscura, or to the mortals simply the Tower, the tallest structure in all of Ephemeris. From its golden roof there proudly waved Alannis' banner, but the true treasure lay underneath the tiles, in the domed chamber just below.
The Panoptic Eye rested serenely there, Alannis' greatest artefact, able to pierce the void of probability and all defences save for those of the Creator himself, it was a triumph of arcano-divine engineering and sorcerous skill, letting the God of Knowledge oversee all of the realms, mortal, divine and diabolical alike.

In its resting state, the Eye looked out at the universe as a whole, turning the tower-top room into a starry night that stretched to infinity all around. Right now, though, it was active, and what was worse, in the middle of changing, a disorienting whirl of colour and sound and indefinable movement that was hell on mortal and immortal eyes and stomachs.

Alannis, of course, was supremely unaffected, his golden eyes fixed on the maelstrom of hadean colour in his creation. Casiran's silver plate glowed more brightly in response to his master's power even as he fought through the unnerving feel of the changing Eye and the havoc it wrought on perception to his lord's side.

"My lord?" Casiran's voice was quiet, as Radiant Servants went, with only a faint, bell-like whisper of the double-toned, resonant voice they all had to some degree.

Alannis spared a distracted, strained smile for his ancient servant - not that anyone would know his age; the seneschal wasn't remotely human, after all, a collection of solar fires from the farthest stars plated in close-helmed moonlight, ageless and almost as eternal as the god himself. "Seneschal Casiran. A matter has come up on the mortal world of Braesorn that will require my personal manifestation. Another matter." Alannis looked mildly irritated, and with perhaps good reason; the god rarely intervened in the flesh on Braesorn, content to manage his affairs through dream-sendings and an extensive network of mortal agents, dealt with by trusted elements of his priesthood, embodying the darker side of the god.

This particular issue, however, was sensitive; an aspect of his master plan had been delayed, and given the struggles it had taken to bring his scheme to fruition, and the turmoil in the Heavens, it needed the personal touch if the whole thing were not to die a-borning. Already the rate of it was laying strain on the god; earlier, as true time was measured in the Heavens, Alannis had gathered his court on the Sunset Terrace and, wrapped in rainbowed fire, had communed and consulted with his great records and the other divines who had not strayed from their paths.

Aurorae had skittered across the burnished dome of the sky, every tower had spouted fire; as much of Alannis as was in his body was invested in his realm, so large as it was, and he needed all of himself for the task ahead.

The reflecting pools through which the assembled once-mortals and Radiant Servants had watched events had been confused, flickering, shifting between many different viewpoints. Only snatches of conversation had passed through the rippling waters, fragmented visions, and when their lord and master returned there had been something different about him, as though every fibre of his being had been put under subtle tension. He had drained glasses of red wine - the headily potent stuff his vintners brewed for Siris night, but aged beyond mortal consumption - and run his cupbearer ragged. The cannier among his court speculated he might be trying a mortal fancy of some sort, but none dared to ask him what, for his fingers were claws and his figure a female's, and the shifting golden aura that mantled his shoulders had the painful, wrathful afterglow of divine fire, his eyes nascent supernovae.

Casiran, though, was immune by dint of long service to his master's moods, no matter their cause, and saluted smartly with his marshal's baton, spilling silver light that warred with Alannis' golden mantle briefly before being subsumed. "Very good. When will you be departing, divinity?"

Alannis flicked a glance at the Eye - it had settled from its psychedelic whirl and a crystal-clear image of a city shone all around them, an image that moved closer and closer as god and servant watched together, districts, streets and businesses peeling away, then walls and roofs, leaving them gazing into a spacious and well-appointed office of some kind; quite different from the normal sights the Eye showed.

"Now. We wish to be away from Ephemeris as little as possible during these...unsettled times." Alannis' figure became fluid, momentarily; all his changes were impossible to define or pin down exactly, a conundrum to which there was no answer. "There have been no incursions?"

"No, my lady. The Mercury Sea is at full reflection, as per your command."

Alannis nodded, sharply. "Good. Can't be too careful. Now. Kneel, Casiran."

Knowing what was to come, the seneschal bent his knee before his mistress.

Glowing with power, even as the Panoptic Eye swirled back to its lazy observation of infinite space, Alannis gestured to the Servant. "By this the divine right I hold over the realm of Ephemeris I recognize and grant my loyal Servant, the Marshal Casiran, power plenipotentiary here to use in defence of our realm until such time as we return to take up our mantle once more." A final flash of energy, and the loyal Casiran commanded the very fabric of Ephemeris, from the shining Mercury Sea to the burnished sky overhead. Temporary, of course, and it immediately faded when Alannis returned to his dominion, it nevertheless made sure Ephemeris was protected from incursion.

"Keep my silver throne safe, Casiran."

"Swift Wisdom, my lady." The seneschal saluted after his benediction, even as Alannis grew faint and winked out of existence - not bound by the Ephemeral Laws that governed all other beings - and then turned to the execution of his duties. He would ensure Alannis' silver throne on the Sunset Terrace remained for his lord to return to.

In the Eye, just as it finished its switch to observing eternity, the tiny avatar of Alannis winked into existence, unobtrusive and unremarked, in one corner of the insignificant office he'd been observing.

[To Rasmorya]

[Ephemeris, Keep Ephemeris, Sunset Terrace]

When Alannis returned to his realm, the wellspring of his power and a substantial part of his very being, there was no quantifiable change in the fabric of the dominion; the Mercury Sea still blazed painful silver, at full reflectance, the burnished sky still shone and Sunshadow still drowned in its eternal roses, but somehow everyone and everything in Ephemeris knew of the return of their god.

His manifestation in the heart of his power was not spectacular; golden motes simply spun themselves into his usual form of a fey young lordling in silver and gold. Eight wings of shimmering, shifting aurorae flashed for a moment before fading away as Alannis stepped properly into his realm, relishing the feel of the heady-scented breeze on his face and the polished mosaic floor beneath his feet.

Merely an aspect of himself, of course, but such a pleasurable and satisfying one. Alannis looked out, past his empty silver chair and the ranks of banners, out over the golden leagues, allowing himself just a moment of introspection. Things were, thus far, proceeding to plan – or at least, within acceptable and projected deviation. Gods never tired, they were proverbial for it; the unceasing watch of the divine, but Alannis felt he’d got as close as it was possible to be in the recent past, scouring his records and scrying with his Panoptic Eye as all around him the heavens trembled to a new, sour dissonance in the symphony.

Casiran, loyal, ever-dependent Casiran, quickly materialised, landing perfectly beside his master in a whisper of argentine and a crackle of lightning. “My sovereign,” he intoned, a light carillon.

Alannis smiled. “Ah, Casiran.” A slight wrinkling of his brow. “I can feel you’ve pinched off part of the realm.”

A soft bracer-clash against a cuirass. “Yes, divinity. With the Mercury Sea at full reflection, all entries have been rebuffed.” A pause. “I used the Eye to track the disturbances; an emissary from Chaos requesting admittance. Not wanting to countermand-”

“Yes, yes,” Alannis said impatiently. “I see. Hold the Keep, Casiran. If you urgently require me, I’ll be at Castle Conjecture, in that little pocket-realm.”

The God of Knowledge vanished from the Terrace, leaving his seneschal staring into open space. If he wanted to follow, the Radiant Servant would have to fly and then take one of the fleet of xebecs currently at anchor in the Gateway Port; the Mercury Sea was rather terminal in its responses when ordered to bar any transit.

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[Ephemeris, Castle Conjecture, Bubble]

The world returned to Alannis with a sharp pop; a tiny part of his demesne curved in on itself, formless and with shining walls, with its centrepiece the emissary, an amorphous mass of violent red energies coursing with coruscant lightning.

No wonder Casiran had contained it; continual shivering feelers and pseudopodia reached from the thing and reflected back from the curve of the bubble, chaos trying to collapse the very fabric of the realm, an irritating little tickle in the back of Alannis’ mind. It looked as though Anarchy had simply pulled up part of her realm and given it a few simple instructions and instincts; but Alannis was canny enough to understand that not everything was always as it seemed.

“We are Alannis, honoured emissary. The wait and containment were unintentional on our part; we had urgent business in the mortal world and were not expecting a visitation.” He paused, a half-heartbeat, perhaps considering whether the servitor would understand the offer of Siris wine and cakes. “Now, we will have your purpose for being in Ephemeris, and no doubt the warm regards of my divine kin, also.”

A few bolts cackle out of it's form, held back barely in time before it actually struck the God of Knowledge. Taking a measured step back from the God, the unnamed servant of Chaos bowed it's scarlet, circular head respectfully. It then stands upright, orbs of sparkling yellow looking at Alannis, but not directly, hissing in a voice that probably sounds more like a snake speaking.

"My Lady the Goddess of Chaoss ssends her warmest regardss."

As it's mouth opens to enunciate every chosen words, the bolts of lightning would cackle softly and flash - so much so that it sounds amusingly as if there was a broken record playing as it spoke.

"Sshe hass ssent me to tell you that sshe wisshes to sspeak with you about ssomething important."

The Chaos Servant finishes it's words with a deep bow. The red aura that composed it's being circle around in it, stirring the air around it into chaos. Such was the nature of Anarchy's realm; it attempts to bring everything into a state of pandemonium. This was, perhaps, a reason why many Gods and Goddesses alike abhor having the Goddess of Chaos visit their realms. One can only imagine what Alannis thought of this, as the Servant stares politely as it awaits a response.

[Ephemeris, Castle Conjecture]

Alannis frowned as Chaos made another determined – although probably unintentional – attempt to destabilise the little pocket realm. Ineffectually, as it happened; he was there himself, after all, lending it strength and rebuffing the pseudopodia with little more than a mildly irritated thought; well was it said that all the gods were omnipotent in their own realms.

Being friend and advisor to the Goddess of Chaos meant one had to be prepared to put up with this sort of thing every so often. Given all the benefits available to Alannis in this arrangement, he was prepared to pay that small price.

“I thank you for the message, now return from whence you came. I thank you for your service; inform your Lady I shall make for her side as soon as I can.” Alannis stepped back and spread his wings, great fans of sparkling, shimmering aurorae, pinions of shaped light and maybe. “Go on, go!” He put a little power behind the command, something to speed the creature along as it sped across the aether to Anarchy’s realm in the heavens, a nightmarish maelstrom of energy and rock continually forming and being destroyed, an orgy of creation and wanton destruction without any constructive, guiding hand.

One of the intricate rooms of Castle Conjecture swam back into existence as the servitor vanished beyond the gates of Ephemeris, a room lined with blazing guards used to dealing with exterior threats of one flavour or another. There were no windows, and only one, heavily-barred and warded door that could be detached from all the rest of the realm, a useful containment mechanism.

In any case, Alannis did not remain long, sending out long cords of his power to wrap around Cynosure and Canopus, the two white Radiant Servants who guarded his terrace and served as envoys and guards when he had need of such things. They would be proof against the random chaos of Anarchy’s dominion, he would see to it – unless, of course, she turned her full attention to them.

In any case, soon the three of them were hurtling across the heavenly aether, burning across the twisting, endless sky, heading for what in divine sight appeared as a giant bloody ruby, spilling crimson all around it as it moved as part of the heavenly puzzle, all the realms locked in an elaborate dance.

Alannis kept a watch for unfriendly forces; while little could directly inconvenience him, delays were never appreciated. He flicked a smile at his two Servants, blazing painfully bright even to immortal eyes, close-helmed and unreadable to all but the most experienced. “Let yourselves get drawn in to Chaos and I shall be very annoyed,” he told them, deadpan. “I’m not anticipating any trouble, but let’s not get complacent, hmm? Readiness is the prime part of preparedness, and all that.”

He looked down at the glowing ruby that was Anarchy’s demesne, and touched down with his power, making it ring like a bell to divine senses. “Better let the Lady of Chaos know we’re here, after all.” His fertile mind was racing even as he maintained the outwardly friendly façade, running through potential scenarios as he waited.