It’s been a long time coming, hasn’t it? I managed to catch a breather at work and poured that time straight into writing so I could wrap this up as I promised. 🖤👻
With that said, let’s take a look at what’s new in this update:
💀 The second part of chapter three is here. It has nearly 25k words of brand-new content.
💀 First glimpse of the Prince/ss of Solaris (poor Nick, I apologize).
💀 Dear Éoin takes care of Death, or at least tries to.
💀 New choices focused on Death's new dominion and A LOT of variations.
💀 Fixed typos and tweaked a few scenes for better flow.
Update Schedule:
Public release: February 16 (Public Update Released!)
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“Sometimes, sometimes he dreams of mother. As she was before—back when everything made sense.”—Deirdre, He/Them
“If nothing else, Lorelai has her mother’s jewels. They’re a cold comfort, but they’re all she has left.”—Lorelai, She/Her
“He enjoys the disgust—fear—the twins wear when they catch sight of him. They thought they rid themselves of mother, but she’s still here—his very existence proof; his very nature a reflection of hers.”—Ahriman, He/Him
Synopsis: Edasis had loved Sol since the beginning of his very creation. Though his love had persisted through all sorts of hardships, it seemed as though this was the last straw.
Warning(s): Angst, not very quality writing, based on my headcanons, told from 1st person (Edasis) POV
Original work by: @theabyssal
Next Part
In the beginning, everything was dark; it was utterly dreadful in the abyss. I don’t know how I survived, but at the end of it all was the brightest light I’ve ever seen.
It made me feel as if all my efforts were worth it.
And you were there to greet me the moment I scrambled out of the absolute darkness of the abyss, standing in all your glory.
It was love at first sight.
Everything from your bright smile. Your unconditional love for your creations. Everything about you was just so admirable to me.
I couldn't help but fall in love with you.
But you didn't love me.
It was expected. How could anyone ever love someone like me?
Even so, when I had laid down all my expectations, the pain of my love was unavoidable.
No matter how many times I’ve come faced with reality, my heart couldn’t stop.
Even as I lay here, in the darkness that I so feared, as a mere shell of who I used to be, my heart can only yearn to see your face again.
Even with each hateful word you'd say, every enraged glare you'd send...Even as you detained me, stabbed me with rods and stripped me of my power and title, even when you declared me a monster to the entirety of the world, even when I could feel my heart break, my love for you would not end.
It was as if I was born solely to love you; my love for you wouldn't falter even as you crushed my heart to nothing but fragments of what it used to be.
Why was it that even when you only burdened me with more scars...Why could I not hate you?
Perhaps it was because I knew you too well, and you knew me too little.
After all, how could I possibly hate you, who so dearly cares for your loved ones? How could I possibly hate you, when all you do is for the best of your creations?
Perhaps, all the sin was on me in the first place.
How could I, one so evil and hideous, dare to covet such a wonderful, divine being?
Even your hatred is too good for me.
You may hate me for eternity, you may hurt me for eons, but my heart will forever lie with you.
Unfinished sketch for @theabyssal-cog
"Ruins of Hylaria"
By Shale du Mor (a heretic burned at the stake for Abyssal Worship)
Written in the Fallen Era.
Thieves and Robbers alike know to steer clear of this place. For the villages who neighbor the ruins claim it to be cursed. Even the gods fear to step into this home of injustice and suffering. It is as if the World itself has left this place to fall. Even as I lay here, hoping to find my Goddess, I can't help but feel the sorrow that drowns this place.
The temple of Decay... once the beloved Necropolis of the Goddess of Death. It now sits on the edge of the Black Sea where the lady was taken. Ivy drowned stone blocks the main entrance. Forcing any good-be worshiper to shimmy and force themselves through the broken mural of The Bride. Forgotten by the people of Hylaria as a whole, it is no wonder that the inside is far worse than the out. The sweet smell of decay almost poisonous as I set up camp amongst the broken pillars.
This place is now nothing more than a blot on the God's good name. For the crimes that had taken place here were numerous and without recourse.
Centuries ago, when the good lady death had first been locked away by the gods. A massacre took place.
One that NO god should have permitted in good conscious.
Her chosen were murdered, lives taken in the cruelest of fashions, men, women, children- it had not mattered in the slightest to the monsters, only for their bodies to be left unceremoniously at the goddess' statue's feet to fester and rot. It is clear that none of the Mother's children were laid to rest, their souls still remain, forced to relive their last moments in horrifying detail.
But this humble servant of death has no way to aid them on to the other side. I am no wraith or psychopomp. But still I try. Even as I search through ever room, through ever book I find in the upturn rubble it is clear to me:
I will never be able to help my brothers and sisters reach the other side.
The monsters who demolished the temple did much to erase her work. Leaving no stone unturned. Her texts, statue, and murals have been defaced. Her tools broken to bits and bobbles. The bodies once housed for worship are now nothing more than ash and dust. The only living thing in this broken home is the tatterings of snake skin and the golden roses of the Sun.
The love that lady death once gave is now gone. Her temple now void of her essence. I fear for what the gods have done to the Abyssal mother for her embrace to be so far gone. None of the shades I have captured could reach her. And as I pray for the loving Sun to free his fallen bride, I can't help myself from sobbing.
The Abyssal One is gone.
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Omae is the cruel and selfish Lady of Despair. Her dark eyes are a black void, skin pale like freshly scavenged bones, and long hair that drags on the ground and black strands that bleed into shadows. She wears clothes she finds laying about; scarves, rags, entire fits torn off from corpses. All clothes are stained in the color of fresh blood. She walks the world bare foot fulfilling her “duty” of stealing innocent souls and mocking the mourning. She takes the greatest amount of pleasure in stealing children! She would walk through a town in the dead of night and sing a tune. All children who hear it get up from their bed and follow her, never to be seen again. But perhaps her greatest sin was tricking the light of the world, Sol, into falling in love and marrying in an unholy union. The world may have been blessed in the couple not having unholy spawn that could have ruined everything.
For the monster and trickster that she was, Omae needed to be vanquished and sealed away along with all worshippers. The world is better for having Omae be forgotten.
That’s what the mortals say now.
Everything, but appearance, was wrong.
In truth, Omae was stoic and emotionally distant. But so gentle and loving to the souls under her care. She tries to attend each passing personally but it became impossible as the populations grew and grew. Omae takes her role very seriously and fulfills it with a strict sense of duty. She carries an hourglass, sand made of golden soul residue, that goes down when someone close to her is about to pass. But even the mighty fall sometimes. In the events of mass fatalities, Omae becomes overwhelmed and stricken at the loss of lives. Especially in the deaths of children and infants. In these moments, she’s comforted by her other half; Sol. Sol who was the first to befriend her outside her siblings. Sol who she never dared to think would want to love her. Sol who not only reciprocated but showed her another way of existing. Sol who married, bonded himself to her and named her his soulmate. Sol who made her know happiness.
Sol… who was her downfall. Who sealed her away. Who casted her from his light and wounded their bond beyond repair. Who let waste away in her mind for thousands of years…
Y’know, whether it be mortal or god, any conscious being left to only their mind and darkness as company tend to… change. Their memories at first keep them entertained but even they start to turn on the person. They shift and change, taking the person with them. The person becomes panicked, unsteady. Their perception is changed, their personality is changed. Until the person settles, but a husk of their former themselves. What fills the husk then?
Madness.
And if this new person were to be released… well, Omae may just become what the mortals fear most.
____________________
Wow this might the one of the more intense Mc/Ocs I have. Omae had everything around her but it was taken seemingly so fast :(. Any check out ans support The Abyssal wip! I have a feeling the shit’s about to get started.
Lyric inspiration (and playlist):
In General:
“I am creation, both haunted and holy
Made in glory
Even the depths of the night cannot blind me
When You guide me”
- Creature by Half Alive
Betrayal:
“And you thought the lions were bad
Well they tried to kill my brothers
And felled in the night
By the ones you think you love
They will come for you”
- Daniel In The Den by Bastille
On Duty Hymn:
“Come little children
I'll take thee away
Into a land of enchantment
Come little children
The time's come to play
Here in my garden of shadows”
- Come little Children cover by The Hound + The Fox
