Reflection & Meditation

Zaruma wandered off to the place of solace, of quiet. There was only one reason to such - to reflect upon his doings, his goals, his emotions and most of all, himself. All to serve as a practice to Arcane.

The words of White Testament he read previously were rushing through his head. Just like the world around him was ever changing, so the Archon's goals and nature were slowly shifting to the whim of what was happening- not as much as a human would, mind you, but there was certainly something off about him.

Perhaps... the bitter acceptance that he may be as well all alone in this entire continent. True, he had servants, he had allies, he had people to fight for his cause - but none of them were the true companions he could possibly think of. None stayed truly loyal.

Maybe Tragedy was right all along?

'If you've noticed, I'm less altruistic towards the rest of our kind.'

Those words sounded more true than ever. Anger, hatred, betrayal, sorrow and grief - those emotions pulsed within the heart of Occult, as black as that of a monster from darkest horrors, and yet fused with the mind of understanding beyond what would human's clarity allow.

Ambition. That was the first step he had to tap into.

"I want to grow past my limitations... past compromising with anyone but myself. I want to rule this land-- as it has always belonged to my kind."

Words escaped his mouth, and his eyes were slowly closing. A pair of crimson hues no longer graced the world all around them.
(Zaruma)

It was a long path to walk, one that he wouldn't dream of making through on his own, and yet he was persistent like never before; he saw nothing else but greatness in this art, and if he were to become a Lord, a -true- Lord of Agartha, he must grasp it.

The Ambition resonated within him like a drumming beat that never ceased to exist.

But there was more...

Deaths. Bloodshed. Backstabs.

Choi's death... that's where it all started. That's when he first felt grief, sorrow, bitter desire for revenge - the revenge that he never had, for Hatsune was killed by Tragedy. In it's own way, justice was done, but--

Hatred. It flowed through him like a constant stream, the loathing he was bearing towards those that defied him, those that abandoned him, those that lifted their hand upon him - that hatred knew no bounds. Ignorant, conniving, deceptive...

His expression was almost shifted in that reflection of what he felt, but he remained... unfazed. The Archon held his emotions in tact, focused, much like the lessons he went through with Effigy. To fuel one's desire... it was one thing, but to succumb to it entirely would be a fall.

He knew as much very well. It was akin walking on a sharp edge of the knife, cutting your feet every single time you step on it, but you had to keep moving, disregarding the pain - for if you decided to surrender yourself to it, all of your hatred would quickly become naught but scattered pieces...

Anger. That's what he felt when he savaged Noxim Florus, that's what burned in his heart every time he delivered yet another blow to Kaor, with his bare hands. That's what he felt when he was humiliated by the likes of Dryad and his companion, by JaDrako too - all of them had to pay for it.

That's what he felt when he was betrayed, too.

The drumming beat coursed through the Archon's body, reacting and reflecting to all of the emotions that he felt. Yet, it was only beginning of his orchestrated trial.
(Zaruma)

The Fell Wind was warping around him, much like a gathering gale that threatened to cut anything and anyone who'd dare to approach.

And within that maelstrom? He saw in peace, in quiet. That hatred, those whispers that rang inside his head, that focused anger - it caused the wind to transform and tweak itself, directing themselves against their Master.

The first deep cut that was delivered against the Archon was met with expression of pain, of annoyance and disturbance, and yet... he didn't open his eyes. It struck him silently, with naught but a soft brush against the Archon's ears, and a violent slash against his body.

Trance. A trance full of pain, both physical and mental alike.

He was familiar with it all too well. Ever since he meditated with Effigy, he knew that in order to weather this storm, in order to keep himself focused, he had to meditate through this trial; the wild emotions that were pulsing through his very soulwere contained.

Felt... but not expressed. Reflected... but not acted upon.

It was then that he began to see the point of focus within his mind, that very straw he sought of in order to latch on like a hungering, desperate beast that was drowning in a sea of dark, yet tried to not fall, to not succumb to it.

The reality itself began to black out around the Archon. That putrid hatred and anger which coursed through him began to leak out towards the environment, assisting him like a focus towards his Ambition.

Everything he lived through so far was used as a fuel for thought, as a fuel to his own trial, as a fuel to his power.

To his destruction.
(Zaruma)

With his rage focused down on one spot, within that storm of darkness, Zaruma found a new purpose - something greater than being a mere force of nature, a mere tool of destruction. No, no more of that.

Now he would attempt to become the master of it.

The source of any sound was tuned out, and in return, the potential within was increased and amplified; it was that time he attempted to influence the environment around him to extent that was not possible before, to measure that was unfathomable to this young Archon.

The power of Chaos was calling for him, gazing upon him. The destruction awaited for it's young Prince, it's young Lord.

And he answered it with open arms.

Much of his mind was still within the Trance, finding odd tranquillity within the heart of Darkness - despite the emotions he felt, despite the desire of ambition, he was able to weather it and grasp it all to his command.

To command Destruction, the wrath that he'd unleash.

A pair of crimson hues graced the world once more. Gazing at it through a new focus of loathing he felt to everything that ever stood on his path, he gazed upon the world with previously unseen clarity, with opportunities to fulfil his ambitions to new lengths, previously unimagined.

Is this how the alluring power of Chaos felt like? He could only wonder.

After a long meditation and focusing, a brief flash of memories went through his mind - but of course, he had witnessed the power of Telekinesis before from the likes of Tragedy and Effigy.

It was the time to unleash what he carried within.

His eyes were narrowed, and in his state of Trance, he unleashed the wave of Destruction that threatened to wipe out and annihilate anything that stood in it's path - a horribly powerful shockwave that was fuelled by the raw hatred that Archon invested in this meditation, and yet held back this entire time, only now to release it as atool of pain.

This was a moment of truth. How far it would take him, however, remained a question.
(Zaruma)

Only now, slowly escaping the Trance that the Archon was locked in, he gazed ahead at the trail of Destruction that he left in the wake of unlocking potential of Chaos within him.

Zaruma remained speechless. It was impressive, true, but it was nothing like the masters of such art could create. Still- he was satisfied with his progress. Not many go this far either.

The gathering gale that surrounded the Archon slowly began to back down; it went from the silent assaults, the disturbance that poked and prodded at him to attempt disrupt the concentration, and yet- it did naught but assist him in building up the tolerance he yearned for so much.

This much was satisfactory. The Archon turned to float away after this, if only to ponder and recall the words of White Testament within his mind.

His chains were breaking. His true power would bid it's time to awaken, to ascend and rightfully appear in this world.

The Destruction was coming.
(Zaruma)