Solo Simulacrum pt I: Cold Mirrors

[Daegron]

Fall 85th, 514AV
early morning

Clarity
It was the most important requirement. Achieving a state of mental clarity and awareness was necessary if he was to begin working on this project. There was no room for careless execution and thoughtless action. And even though the whole idea came to him in a whim, he knew that for as long as this experiment went on, his impulses must stay suppressed. It came to him one night, while drinking himself to good shape after the whole KRI mess. But when he got sober the next day and gave it a careful thought, the endless possibilities and associated dangers made it truly worthwhile and him eager to pursue. But he'd spent most of the Fall season procrastinating, very unlike him; as if he was held back by something he could not quite understand,

Getting himself ready was a whole different thing. After a season that involved severe beatings, extreme transformations, drug experimentations, imprisonment, rehabilitation and battle, he was quite tired and drained. But this time he had a focus, a goal; one that he'd try with all his might to achieve. First off, he had to throw the bottle away. This wasn't quite easy, but he was driven with a sense of purpose and kept in high spirits by the promise of new power. For the last ten days or so, he'd kept himself rested and away from trouble. A proper sleeping pattern, as good food as he could afford, and the occasional walks around the city went a long way towards renewing his vigour. And hard as it was, he'd managed to keep himself as clear as possible for that terrible blend Dr. Parnell had made specifically for him. It was strange how young he felt. Adopting a few healthy living habits wasn't so bad after all. He instantly shuddered at the thought.

There was a single goal in this endeavour. Increase of power.

First of all, he needed to reconnect to himself. To re-make what was made wrong. His natural impatience did not quite fit with the gravity that his Art demanded. It had created a world of pain for him and much as he tried to ignore the truth, he was torn; severed from his essence, a stranger to himself. And like an ignorant stranger he tapped and used his djed, abusing what was truly a magnificent gift. While his body should be an ally, it had become an enemy. While his form was meant to follow his will, it defied his orders with all it's strength. Where a perfect union was needed, a chasm existed. The result of this war between spirit and flesh was unending agony.

It was about time to make things right. Nolan Parnell, unknowingly during his personal experimentation had driven the Morpher to a state that only existed in his nightmares. He'd lost control of his magic, and taking a life and will of it's own it had claimed his body. A being of chaos, hungry, mad and all consuming was awakened. It took charge and pushed Daegron's will aside as it revelled into the shaping. Shaping with no other purpose than the sheep pleasure of it. In his short exile, Daegron stayed alive by sheer will. There the first step was made. He re-created his Djed, his essence, this time thoroughly dominating it.
With the combined attempts of his own and Parnell's, the Abominable one was defeated. Daegron with a fateful leap into himself absorbed the energy that entity flailed around and took control. Parnell's poison took the existence of that terrible misshapen horror away.

He still shook at the thought of his ordeal. The torment he'd endured in that metal suit, the failing of his greatest weapon and pride and his eventual break. The keeping of the Morpher's powers leashed for so long, had created a perfect opportunity, some sort of a catharsis.And now, with a mind clear as ever, looking back at the events he knew better. It was much needed. In order to create, you must destroy. He'd emerged more powerful and wiser. It was true that what does not kill you, only makes you stronger.

So there he was, in his windowless candle-lit cubicle, well rested and fully recovered; rejuvenated to perfection. He sat cross legged and shirt-less on the floor in front of three mirrors carefully placed. One to the front and the other two in an angle of about 45 degrees, offering perfect view of his visage and body. Next to every mirror was a single candle, offering much needed light; for the oil lamp was barely enough for the room and he wanted to be able to discern details. He was ready to begin. Little did he know of the implications of this endeavour or how much they would affect him in the long run..

[Daegron]

Concentration.
It was the key element that led to success. It would provide careful execution and would help avoid mistakes and their dire consequences. Never too far away from his grasp, he'd found that keeping himself centered and focused went a long way towards unlocking his destined potency. Magic was something that needed order and harmony in order to master. Even more so, when this magic threatened to tear his physical form apart.This time, in order to avoid the mistakes of the past, it would be wise to concentrate before attempting anything. He had to sink deep into himself, to cut off any external distractions and come closer to his core. There his essence would be reaped and his Djed would be harvested. It would fuel and regulate his transformations. It would be the driving force behind it all. Once the necessary amount of djed was gathered, he'd need to energize and activate it. He would need to align it with his physical structure. His flesh and bones would be like clay; easy to mould. Like water, always taking the wanted shape. His Djed would be the vessel created from his will; the hands that worked the clay. Everything would need to be aligned and all the necessary connections needed to be made permanent. There was a promise of new potential brewing inside him, he could feel it. This union of body and energy would enable him to make the leap of faith and release this new magical power that he'd yearned for so long.

In order to make this trip into himself, in order to rearrange and realign himself in this new level that tranceded his mind and his body, he had to be detached from the world around him. To be detached from this world, meant to be pulled away from the realm where senses ruled. Taste and smell were mostly irrelevant. His sense of touch after all those alterations on his skin, was greatly dulled so there was little for him to do. Hearing was the most possible source of distractions but he'd already found a way to null those. He'd soaked two small pieces of linen, torn from an old shirt, into molten wax and moulded those into a pair of ear plugs. Any sound, other than his own voice was silenced as soon as he put them on. Sight would be needed in the beginning, and all he had to do was to close his eyes.

He leaned forward to the small clay basin that he'd placed in front of him and looked at his own reflection. His fingertips touched the cold surface, creating ripples that spread unevenly; waves crashed on waves, reflecting or strengthening each other and for a few moments he contemplated on an idea that was born in his mind. A few points of pressure, can cause an unpredictable amount of ripples. And in the same way a profound truth was revealed; from a finite amount of events and stimuli come myriads of possibilities, intertwined into a stream of waves that move in resonant or dissonant patterns, unfolding in all possible directions unto eternity. The beauty of Chaos and the Order behind it. He could see his grin broadening upon the rippling water and he knew that there was no better time than today.

His hands submerged in the cool waters and his head was lowered. With slow moves and even breath he washed his face and straightened up again, wiping himself with a clean towel. Keeping his mind empty of any thoughts, he watched as the waves in the basin slowly faded.

He was ready to begin...

[Daegron]

Philosophy.
"At first was the emptiness. A vacuum of nothingness, the lack of existence."
His eyes were shut, his ears plugged and all that echoed in the cold room was his voice. slow and steady, deep and calm. If he was to seize the power that he so wished, he needed to dive deep; straight to the core of his existence. So he spoke, reminding himself how his djed came to be once more during that fateful day at the NMSS. From that point on he'd revisit that experience, retrace his steps and continue from where he stopped. Logic, once again would be his guide and ally. Focus his weapon.

"And in that void, something changed. A subtle hint of something more than what once was." He smiled and paused, contemplating the emptiness, the lack of senses, of feelings or thoughts, of life. Everything else, like useless details noticed in the past, parts of ideas that were not yet born, connections of thoughts that were not made, echoes of memories lost, those haunting remnants of his subconscious self, facts that had no relevance with each other, and all those other things that cluttered the corners of his mind were slowly purged away. Drained as they clung unto those hidden passages, desperately grasping at strands and fibres that were uprooted and torn away. The tower's bell rang at least twice till oblivion, hungry as always had claimed them all.

"It was Will, it had will and something else that is called reason. And therein laid promises of great power. A power so great that was able to make that from which it was made. Change." He could not deny that Change, was the only constant. Even if altered, it was in her nature to change, to move on, to evolve or to wither. There was great power in that concept.
"There was also another power, equal in it's potency that Will in all her reason possessed. Stability. " Like two parts of a whole, stability and change were balancing each other, keeping things under control, or letting things to drift away from it. Both were forces of creation or destruction.

"And so Will, knowing of it's great powers, unleashed them unto the emptiness. And together they danced and swirled till the time was right. They attracted and repulsed, loved and hated for what seemed like forever. There was no such thing as forever though, for there was no measure of time, until then. The fruit that their rapport bore was Time; always moving and always stable, a perfect union in a ceremony of opposites." He paused for a long while, contemplating the gravity of time, it's importance and significance. And though he'd already lost track of time in his trance-like state, he had a measure of his own. The very beating of his heart, the pulse that throbbed on his temples. He did not notice that the tower's bell was silenced.

"For all things, there's a time and a place, and though time existed, there was no such thing as a place, or even a space. To gain awareness of space, a reference is needed." Logic was powerful in it's simplicity.

"Will, realizing it's own existence, was easy to find a reference. It's own self. And watching those powers dance, an idea was created." He focused on that idea, that where no reference existed, a single point would be born. It was one giant leap towards creation. "There was one single purpose. To create. For many passages of time all that Will was, was focused on that idea until it was forced into being. And then, that was the needed reference. It was only a matter of time to repeat that sequence and create more points." He lingered on that last phrase, repeating it for countless times as he followed the instructions of his own narrative.

"So it wondered, after time was running and space was defined: How vast is the emptiness ? How far does it go, and for how long ? The first of endless questions. Thus incited by Change, the driving force of such questions, came motion. And Will, a point in itself, travelled on further away from those other points. Incited by stability it searched for a meaning, a purpose to find answers. Guided by both, Change was motion and Stability was direction. For to wander aimlessly, is to get lost." Motion was a very important concept and this he knew well. It was the thing that connected Chaos and Order; perpetual, divine.

"So it came to be that Will, that had no boundaries nor limitations itself, was able to define the measure of space, containing a relatively small part of it. On that part, Will would reign, and impose it's discipline and imagination upon all the things that were contained, and those things that would emerge." To ascertain control, one needed to divide, contain and rule. Then and only then, through interaction would Will's influence spread out, thus increasing the magnitude of it's effect.


"And all those points contained were forced to converge, to move closer with each other, to connect. And a multitude of interactions took place, unpredictable under the myriads of influences and possibilities. Thus Will created Energy." As the instructions were followed, he felt that energy stirring within him, covering every fibre of his being as it's existence was conceptualized.

"Energy was the manifestation of Will's power. And so followed the creation of innumerable points and the effects of their motion, seemingly random but following a pattern. In order for that pattern to be realized, it had to be divided, contained and explained in a smaller scale. Only then would understanding and knowledge be expanded to cover everything. Thus Energy grew, immense in it's power."
Those were fundamental truths, born of Inspiration and combined by Logic. He clung on those truths, contemplating their meaning and depth for what seemed like an aeon; visualizing the whole journey that his narrative invoked. And energy within him grew.

"Unable to be contained within Will's boundaries, Energy folded unto itself again and again, forced into a vibration. And as points converged and dispersed, while Change and Stability continued their powerful dance of resonance and dissonance, of harmony and discord, all the points melded into one. Thus Matter came into existence" He was nearing the end of his tale, it's purpose was now clear, and all the cards were unfolded. He smiled and stood silent, contemplating and repeating all the things he'd described, all the journey from nothingness to Matter; his personal tale of Creation. And the bells passed, yet he could not know, for the Tower's bell had stopped, and in his deep trance, he cared not to wonder why.

"Matter expanded, multiplied and redivided, it grew into something potent and beautiful. Something pure and absolute." The sound of his voice filled the room and his words grew louder. It was time for the finale. Pride was driving his every phrase.

"This matter was Djed. Strong and true, holding truths and gifts of immense power. And those boundaries collapsed under Djed's influence. And Will, triumphed over the vacuum and was ready to spread out and expand. Thus Essence was born. From my own Will, my own Essence.

From my own Will, my own Essence.

From my own Will, my own Essence.

From my own Will, my own Essence..."

With each iteration of this phrase, he felt his Djed stirring and squirming under his skin. He revelled at that ravishing feeling. The invocation was complete.

"And into that Essence, straight to it's very depths, I now sink...."

[Daegron]

Victory.
A long silence followed his last statement. It's echoes slowly faded and he remained silent, preparing himself for the trip ahead. And his breaths turned into a whisper; a long deep sound was born and was slowly formed from his vocal chords. Just like the Tale of Creation had described, from silence came Will in the form of this vowel. And as the chimes passed, it evolved, adding variation to this monotonous hum. The narrative's instructions were followed to the letter, and likewise a series of consonants, sometimes throaty, other times sibilant, hissed or growled came into being. Thus a pattern was made, a complex one as his chant went on for what could be a few bells, if a different measure of time other than the beating of his heart existed. And as his non-existent words filled up the space around him, the space contained by the four walls of his cubicle, they echoed and folded and formed static waves. And in those valleys and peaks, in harmony and discord his energy was vibrant, his will strong.

In that trance-like state of his, a vortex of some sort was born into his mind, more of an idea and less of an image. He knew that this was his way in. He knew that there would be no easy way out. But the re-connection needed to be done. It was too late to turn back, too soon to falter. And so he let the vortex engulf him, dragging him into that spiralling motion, and he sank. The journey was long. A maelstrom of light and darkness, of feelings unexpressed, of hate and desires, of spiralling colours and gloomy shadows, filled with echoes of a song, or was it a scream ?

And it was when he arrived at his core that the truth he'd long imagined but was unable to realize became apparent. His own essence was nothing like he wished it to be; he was a stranger in his own Djed. As if he was tossed into a dark deep snake-pit without dreams nor chance to come out alive. Focus was his only weapon, his protection sheer will.

Like tentacles they danced, formless, purposeless and downright hostile. They were black as if they hungrily swallowed all light and hope. Like serpents they hissed and formed fangs and claws that threatened; like ichor-festered mouths that came close to swallow. There was no shape, no order in their motion. The enemy he had to defeat was squirming around and underneath him, towering above him in dire warning. It was the essence borne and nurtured all these years by his carelessness and greed, empowered by his inability to understand the notion of balance. Desperation would wash all over him, but it did not, for he had an ally.

Up above this terrible pit, hovered a single sphere of pure light. It gleamed like a beacon, offering sight and insight. It swirled with energy and will. It was Essence, as he had created it that fateful Summer day. Essence absolute and true in it's purity, as his Narrative had described.

"From my own Will, my own Essence.

From my own Will, my own Essence.

From my own Will, my own Essence.

From my own Will, my own Essence..." he sang defiantly as the blackness moved in to consume his very being.

And his own Essence swirled and moved and rested on his now raised palm. The blackness reared, gathering all of it's might to crush the opposition. It took every little piece of courage he could muster, every fibre of his being, every desire he had and all the Will he possessed to give the order. And with his chant's command, the sphere of light concentrated all her radiance into a single beam. The beam was directed by his passion, and flew straight against the nightmare that stood all over him. Like a spear, sharp and fast it pierced the very fabric of that blackness, scattering it's might, severing it's tendrils. In a beautiful dance the beam moved, as it reflected upon the walls of this abysmal pit. And Daegron's chant flourished and grew, the recital climaxed and then fell silent, a mere soft whisper.

With his pure essence now consumed, and himself feeling drained, darkness fell once more. Yet it did not linger for long. For the chant pleaded and suggested and ultimately commanded:

"Become one with me, be with me, live in me, follow me, shape me..."

And the blackness was no more, it slowly shifted into subtle hues and dark shades of red and purple and blue. And it shifted and twirled and moved, folding and expanding till it's very nature changed. Many bells had passed in focus and suggestion until what stood before him was a feast of colours, madly swirling, contained into the form of a sphere, a perfect shape, dancing playfully as it's brightness grew from a dim dawn to a brilliant phantasmagoria of light. Perfect and absolute. Pure and true. From his own Will, his own Essence, wild and tame, solid yet ever changing. Immensely powerful.

And he smiled, for he had won. For a single moment of triumph he felt as if the burden of years that rested on his shoulders was suddenly lifted. He marvelled at the creation of his will, at the victory that he'd achieved.

Little did he know that victories are bitter-sweet...

And they never last long now, do they ?

[Daegron]

Harmony.
His eyes opened. The oil lamp was slowly dying. His gaze wandered around the cold room and fell on the mirror's icy surface. While he was different inside, his visage was unchanged and the world was still the same.

His eyes closed once more. He was still in his Core an his essence was ready to be commanded. What would follow now was the connection of spirit and material, of Djed and flesh. With great determination and confidence he willed his essence to start spinning. And so it followed. The bright colours swirled and danced and the sphere started turning. The colours moved and melded into new hues, their motion unruly and unpredictable. Yet as he's suggested before, the concept stayed the same. For behind their seemingly random motion, there existed a simple order. A circular pattern was created when all of their influences converged. The sphere spun, it's radiance sending away the shadows that clung to those darkest corners, replacing them with new shades.

His chant went on as he revelled at the powerful mass before him. His hands were raised and approached the sphere. His fingertips touched it's surface and as his hands moved, new patterns were drawn, valleys and peaks, streams and geysers of essence formed. He was like a painter that ignored the canvas and dove his fingers in the palette; like a sculptor that forfeited his tools in favour of touching and feeling his material. And his Djed, alive as ever engulfed his hands. Colourful strands rose and grew like vines and found their way up his arms, covered his shoulders and slowly spread all over his battered body. And the strands burned with power and pierced him, seeping under his skin, energizing his flesh, reaching into the most precious and prime element of his existence. His very marrow that hid inside his bones.

His eyes opened. His form was reflected on those mirrors, visible enough under the dim light.

His Djed was ready inside him. It had spread itself over each and every inch of his body. That eerie surge of power that resided within him was intoxicating, almost divine. Under his command his marrow stirred and moved slowly, like a collection of ripples and waves in small repetitive patterns. And through the sum of these slow moving vibrations, the energy that was created, altered the very nature of his bones. The outer shell softened and became like clay, ready to be shaped. The change started from his spine and slowly spread all over his skeleton. And within his resonating skull, his orders were given life and were transmitted all over his form. Through the vast network of nerves his will travelled. Through myriads of blood vessels his essence reached. Till his flesh and muscle and sinew were his to command. Thus was the change initiated.

As his bones softened, he made them shift and change. There was no certainty in the form that he wished to take. He wanted, through careful small steps to condition his own flesh. To remake the union of his natural form and his Djed. To make them work as one, to act as one, to follow his will as one. From his own Will, his own Essence, his own Body. A triad that held so much power when united. He didn't give them a certain shape. Instead, he ordered a multitude of slight alterations of geometry and shape. And his bones, easy to mould followed. Upon the mirror's surface he saw the disturbing beauty of what he'd just asked. His chant kept him in focus, his heartbeat was the rhythm and his breath gave life. Claws grew and sank back into his fingertips, horns sprouted and retreated, Bones were separated and melded back into one.

And he took another step. He willed his muscles to shift. To change position, to move and to wrap around the ever changing bone structure. To follow the transformation and to enhance it. And upon the mirrors the grotesque display of his very own power played on. Tendons moved, muscles bulged and expanded or shrunk and twisted. He revelled at that ravishing feeling of change that washed over his very being. He was solid, yet ever changing.

So he made the last step possible. His very own surface, his skin was altered. It changed colours and textures, it became dense and hard or soft and rubbery. It was stretched and folded.

The show went on for many bells and he enjoyed it immensely. He felt proud and powerful. The only constant in those endless transformations, on his ever shifting form was his broad, sinister grin. His natural form did not resist. It shuddered with joy and answered his command with strange tingling sensations.

Until the time came that his Will, Essence, and Body were one. Their union a sheer triumph. A perfect harmony, and the birth of infinite possibilities.

"Isn't it absolutely wonderful ?"

[Daegron]

Indulgence.
It came out of nowhere. And it was strangely familiar but still, very different. His ears were plugged and he could hear it loud and clear. As if it came from inside. It startled him, but also picked his curiosity.

"I am so proud of you, love."
It was but a whisper. It's sweet mellifluous tone was like music. Like an eerie melody, low and breathy, as if softly sung into his ear. He could almost feel that breath as it caressed down his neck, teasing him, tempting him. He could almost feel the touch of those lips as they phrased those words. And the feeling was one he knew well. He shuddered with a mix of fear and desire.

"Who are you ?" he asked, interrupting his chant abruptly. Yet his flesh still squirmed and shifted, keeping that ever-flowing transformation on it's way towards infinity; as if his focus was never broken.
"You've known me for quite some time, love." she said and that breath moved towards his shoulder. She had her way to make him shiver. She knew how to make him succumb to her whims.
"I have ?" he plainly asked, enchanted by her touch. Yet no one was in the room with him and no one would be able to touch him.
"See for yourself, to your right." she plainly said. The trap was offered to him in the form of a casual call. And the fool, could not stop himself from turning his gaze towards the mirror to his right. He wanted to see her face.
Nothing love.. I've already taken what I wanted from you a long time ago...
And his emerald eyes fell on the mirror, and what he witnessed was unlike anything he's ever known. For it was himself who willed his face to change, into her liking. It was effortless and perfect, as if he knew the shape by heart. As if he'd used the transformation many times before.

Djed flowed and covered his face, focusing there while leaving behind the constant shifts of his body. He could feel the energy within him. Thus he begun. His jaw narrowed and his face was made thinner. His wrinkles faded, leaving behind clear soft skin. The stubble disappeared and his tanned complexion turned pale pearly white, with rosy cheeks. His mane changed into her beautiful locks. His eyelids lengthened and his eyes changed into the deepest blue, taking the shape of almonds. His nose straightened and receded into his skull, his eyebrows became hers. His ears became hers. His thin lips inflated and turned into the deepest red. All those details that made him a man were soon gone. And in that mirror, on the thing that once was his own face he saw her visage.

And he knew her well. She was all he ever craved. All those things that he loved on a woman's face, were now drawn on the canvas that was his flesh. And she smiled while her eyelids fluttered. That face was far from innocent. She was a sweet promise of sin, his deepest desires incarnated. And her voice, the sound of her voice was like a lingering sigh of pleasure. He could not help but hungrily stare.

"Who are you ?" he said, thrilled and quivering at the same time.

"I am indulgence. All you ever craved. All you ever wanted. I am each and every one of your vices."
"All I ever wanted...?"
"Yes, and all you ever reached out and grabbed. I am your greed, your gluttony your lust. I am the reason why you never stop until you have your fill. Your search for pleasures unattained. Your hunger for more power."
"Where did you come from ?"
"You made me. I was a simple whisper and you strengthened me, you gave me life. And for that, you have my undying love."
In her smile, she wholeheartedly offered a torrent of memories. Nights of drinking and feasting. Nights he'd spent by a woman's side, buried under the sheets. Moans of pleasure while sensations are desperately driven over the edge. The thrill of indulgence. The shivers of danger. The chill one gets when grabbing something he shouldn't and taking it for his own. The taste of the forbidden. In that beautiful haze he revelled and sunk, enjoying every guilty moment of it.

She was the whisper he'd kept hearing. She was the one pushing him to overcome his limits. She was the one who kept him wanting to use his Art; the one that hid behind the immense pleasure of the Shaping.

"What do you want from me ?" he said, still enchanted in his trance.

"To be with you, to live in you, to offer you the things you desire, to love you..." she answered, offering herself in his most lust-filled thoughts, offering to sate his every need and ambition.

Yet something was wrong. He had a terrible feeling that something was very wrong, though he stood in rapture, taking in those few pleasurable moments before they would end. The room felt very cold suddenly, almost unnaturally so.

"And what do you want in return ?". He grinned, feeling certain that he wouldn't fall into her trap. But it was too late.

"Nothing love.. I've already taken what I wanted from you a long time ago..."

"What do you mean ? he grunted as that stupid grin froze on his face. Her answer was a fit of cold laughter, mocking him. He could almost see the cruelty dripping from her rich red lips as she beckoned:

"Take a look to your left..."

[Daegron]

Chaos.
Foreboding fear filled his every thought. For he knew that what he was about to see to his left surpassed the worst of his nightmares in horror. The imaginary razor that run along his spine cut deep; the pain that accompanied it contradicted the delight felt just moments ago. As his head turned around, his eyes lingering on that exquisite face before she'd disappear, he made the change. Again, it came naturally, as if the shape was memorized, as if the monster that he'd create lived inside him. Djed flowed and swirled around his head as bones and skin shifted.

Her beautiful locks fell, the last of them caressing his shoulders, like the lingering sigh that was her voice. On his bald head, ugly lumps of bone randomly grew tearing through the stretched skin. Her clear pale complexion took a sickly green hue, brutally ruined by cracks that appeared and blisters that slowly boiled and opened, leaving hideous scars on their trail. His eyes opened wide, the blackness of his pupils expanding while the orbs grew out of their sockets. The thin red vessels were now bulging dark veins. His eyebrows thickened and like bushes grew out. His jaw widened, his chin broadened and the edges of his mouth tore open all the way to his ears, that now hung like misshapen rotten pieces of meat. His nose was turned into a horrible snout and mucus dripped out of his nostrils. His tongue took a nasty purplish hue and grew in length while small thorns sprouted on it's surface. The terrible maw that had opened was swiftly adorned with huge sharp teeth, meant to rend flesh. A true abomination was created.

And he knew it well. It was all he ever feared. All those things that made his nightmares feel real were now real, sculpted on his face.e As it grinned, that tongue run along the row of razors that were his teeth. That face was the atrocious combination of his most frightening transformations, a being of chaos and horror, a beast. And the gurgling sounds that accompanied it's stinking breath was enough to make one faint. He could not help but tremble in awe.

"Who are you ?" he asked and his once deep booming voice was now more like a guttural growl.

"I am an Abomination. Fear incarnate, Wrath taken shape, all those things you loathe and your darkest nightmares. I am what you've become."
"Lies ! You were defeated !"
"Nonsense ! That's what you chose to believe, like the fool you are. I was absorbed. Your essence carries a taint. Yours truly."
"It is not true ! You do not exist !" he said, overcome by panic.
"You may choose to deny my existence, but to do so you deny yourself. I am borne of your hunger, from your rage. I am strengthened by your persistence and your grit. I hide behind your volatile temper and your short fuse. I live in those violent thoughts. Every time you hurt someone or destroy something, you come closer to me..."
And that horror was right. It was absorbed with the essence that he'd made his own. It was his obsession to Morph, his quest for the perfect shape. And all those bad things he'd done passed before his eyes, like a sequence of memories painted with thick red, like the blood he's spilled. All those terrible thoughts, all his hate, all the times he'd swore vengeance. His blood boiled and anger seethed within him.

" I am your unpredictable self. You could say I am your chaotic, sick, twisted imagination"
"You cannot claim me horror ! You are not my kin, you are incomparable to me. You are nothing, a slithering clutter, confused and purposeless. While I can crush your pathetic existence. I have Logic, I have Reason, I have Will ! Your power is mine to grasp !"

The answer came with a roaring laughter that resembled a torrent of curses combined the wails of a tortured soul. It reminded him of himself, as he lied in that metal prison of Parnell's making. It reminded him every agonizing moment of his suffering. The next words that came from it's maw were spat with contempt.

"Most important of all, my...brother... is that I am your very own PRIDE !"
Daegron, unable to accept the truths the mirrors spoke, mustered all his scattered thoughts, desperately trying to keep his focus. Sweat run down his brow as he struggled to avoid looking at them. And strangely enough, as his head turned to face the mirror straight to his front, their mocking laughter was silenced.

It was too easy.

[Daegron]

Creation.
He was running out of time. Those images on the mirrors had faded and all he could see reflected on their cold surfaces was his own tired self. A visage, battered by his Art as it left behind faint traces of every transformation ever attempted. Small scars, bruises, cuts, wrinkles, flaky skin, discolourations, a pallet of textures and marks that was different every time he looked. The ugly truth stared back at him intensely. As he recounted all those traces, he swam on the river of memories that run through him. And he realized something. Those two guests that graced him with their visit, were inside his head; and they'd be sure to come again. There was no chance to make them go away, but he could bury them so deep that they'd be unable to emerge and haunt him.

His own face was a quick glimpse into the depths of his black soul. A recollection of battles, both physical and mental, an account of all the hurt and grief he'd caused or a testament of his deeds. And it wasn't pretty. A wave of self pity and loathing rose to swallow him and he just stared, unable to shake it off. Perhaps his mother was right. He wasn't meant to be born, he never should have, he should have died along with his first scream, debris cast from her womb. Unwanted.

A change was needed. A new face to hide the old. A new self to cover the ugliness of his own. To conceal the truth in a beautiful lie. Something pleasant to see in the mirror, something pleasant to offer to the world. At that time, it seemed like the best choice. Little did he know that his own Logic was flawed, oblivious to the fact that he was willingly stepping straight into another trap, meticulously crafted to beguile him into it's depths.

He focused all his energy and summoned it back into his face. AS Djed swam under the hideous surface, he worked with it, shaped it and willed it to come alive and alter him in a way that pleased him.

His skull resonated with energy and changed shape. He kept in mind the correct analogies and measurements that made it perfect. That harmonious oval shape would offer a solid base for the rest of his appearance. His wide jaw narrowed, his temples and cheekbones lowered, his brow was raised and his forehead expanded. The battlefield that was his skin, scorched by all those wars he'd caused upon it became smooth and soft while his tanned and discoloured patches melded into a healthy and slightly flushed complexion. His messed up raven mane slowly changed into a dark brown, and shortened to resemble a well-done haircut, while the blonde streaks that appeared, gave them a certain shine. His stubble retreated back under the surface and his grin was replaced by a kind and assuring smile. His nose straightened and his angry frown shifted to a calm gaze and though his eyes remained the same, the frame was altered to imitate compassion. His broad and short neck was slightly raised and Djed was gathered in his throat in order to morph his vocal chords. His raspy voice was no more. His repulsive self was no more, for he was renewed.

He looked at what he'd made and rejoiced. The transformation was easy to accomplish, as if he knew exactly what he was trying to achieve. On top of it, it was very stable, offering none of the discomfort of anything else he'd tried before; it felt natural. He was handsome, renewed, magnificent. With that appearance everything could be possible, the simplest of all a new beginning. The way to success was open and waiting to be tread. He was proud. And all he needed now was a name, to give an identity to this new and improved self.

"Your name is..." he stopped for a while, thinking about it. But as he thought, someone else had already decided.

"My name is Raelann Glynn, originally from Zeltiva, as you can hear in my hard-to-hide accent. It's great to meet you, friend." Daegron was speechless. The words were not his but he was the one speaking.
"I'm the son of a modest merchant named Corryn and his lovely and kind wife Ranya. Unfortunately they passed away a few seasons ago in a terrible fire. " The expression was sad, yet hopeful. It seemed genuine. But he wasn't trying to fake it.
"I came to Ravok, feeling the need to bask under Rhysol's absolute protection and praise His name"
"No, this isn't true... a beautifully constructed lie.."
"Yet it's as perfect of a story as it could, right ? Slightly vague and simple enough to make one yawn with boredom and stop asking questions" responded the face in the mirror at Daegron's thoughts. Raelann was very different from the other two. A few steps ahead of the mind that had created him. Or did Raelann create his own self ?
"Who are you ?" he asked, though he knew the answer very well.
"The sum of your best parts. The good man you've never been, the kindness you've suppressed in favour of darker paths.Your aspirations and your steel resolve. Your focus that should never fail. The loyalty you never offered, the truth you've never told. What you could have been, if your choices were right."

The man he could have been. A spiral of regrets pulled him in it's center, wanting him to drown in sorrow. He sighed, burdened by all those mistakes he'd made, all his rushed decisions and his pride that would not falter. How ironic, to find redemption at the mouth of madness ? In the form of an image in a mirror ? How terrible to expect salvation from a facade ?

What would you want from me ? You have everything figured out...

The image chuckled. His eyes were kind and compassionate. And sincere. It felt like a twisted joke played by fate.
" The question is what would you have me do for you ? I am because you needed me. When things get dark and lonely, when all around you collapses, know that you will always end up to me."

Raelann was right. Much as he'd want to deny it, and much as he'd hated to accept the facts, the benevolent man he'd shaped would always be his last hope. Desperation reached out and her cold hands grabbed his very soul, trying to strangle his every hope. He trembled before his better self, weak and powerless.

"Make them go away, please... restore the balance before it's too late." he pleaded and his voice was but a whimpering whisper.

[Daegron]

Fractured.
"I am afraid you won't find me agreeable to that." Raelann said and his gaze hinted of some sort of disappointment.

"What do you mean?" Daegron answered, annoyed and curious at the same time. His plea was very clear although poorly expressed.

"I am a firm believer that in all cases, a mutually beneficial agreement is a better solution than direct conflict."
"Nonsense ! I never believed that !" Daegron hissed, expecting Raelann to follow his will. But it didn't work that way.
"Indeed, but what you can't seem to realize is that I won't be subjected to your whims. We are very different, you and I. "

Raelann had a will of his own, Reason of his own and clearly a way of his own. He was in control. The control that Daegron had graciously offered while desperately seeking a way out of this nightmarish trance. The disturbing fact was that he was a stranger to himself. He forced his gaze to wander off the mirror and in horror he watched as the entities that he'd hoped vanished, Indulgence and the Abomination took their respective places into the right and left mirror. His face shifted to their liking. It was that very moment that he understood how foolishly he'd stepped into their trap. These two images had forced him to resort to Morphing in order to find a solution, and he in turn created someone who was eager to bring them forth. His Reason was flawed, his Will forever fractured.
Had he learned nothing from the poisoner's cruel lessons ?

His gaze shifted from one cold surface to the other as the three entities spoke with each other. Their banter went on for endless bells, and he found himself unable to intervene, or phrase his objections. He was effortlessly reduced to a pathetic spectator as the ensemble discussed his fate. And no matter how different in nature they all were, Raelann's influence was so great that it was a matter of time before they started to see things in a way convenient to all. It was harrowing to see what kind of symphony slowly emerged from their discord. How all those different views converged into a single goal, mighty in it's dissonance. Fear had grasped his very heart, squeezing playfully while it's claws caressed his source of life. Hid Djed was still vibrant, energized and amplified in potency as the rift within him grew; as if his essence relished Chaos.

"What are you doing to me ?" he cried, unable to believe what was taking place before his eyes, inside his brain.

"Oh you'll love it, it'll make you shiver with pleasure..."

"..Bring you to your knees as you revel in power.."

"We are creating stability, what you clearly lack my friend. We are connecting the shattered parts of your sanity, for you have misused and abused them in your negligence and impulse."

"How can this be ? This is not real, this isn't happening, you do not exist..." his eyes watered with despair and agony.

"And still you ignore yourself, your true potential. How can you deny your own self ? When will you accept the truth and embrace us ?"

"Embrace us, love, let us be your passions as we are meant to be.."

"..Embrace us for we are your inner strength. We are your broken self remade.."

Daegron stood silent. He was at a loss for words. He was dumbfounded. All he could do was to hear their final statement, their judgement, the ultimatum forced upon his soul.

" I revel in our union for there is great power in our diversity. For the promised perpetual change. Because we are trully unpredictable. Because we have the chance to grab what we want, and destroy what we don't."

"I revel in our union for it never will stifle our passions. It will feed our cravings and pursue what we desire most. It will let us indulge all we want.

"I revel in our union for it brings us peace and unity. Because there is Order in Chaos and though we are unable to perceive it, we know it is true. Because we have found a reason to coexist in our diversity and strengthen our bonds. Because we are one. And you will accept and embrace our Judgement because you know that without us you will wither and die."

"Wither..."

"And Die !"

And the faces merged into his own. And in all three mirrors he could clearly see the semblance with his three different parts. Parts of a whole. And in all three mirrors his face slowly withered. In terror he watched until what used to be his visage, was now a rotten mask of death.

Till he stood it no longer, and finally found the strength, after his sentence was passed, to get up and awaken from this deep trance. With passion and fervour he reached for the mirrors and as their laughter echoed in his skull, shattered them to little pieces.When it was all done, exhausted he crawled in the distant corner of his cell and cowered. He couldn't stand to see his reflection anymore, lest he face the truth he feared most. He was broken, and lost.

And there, in the dark aftermath that followed the lamp's last flicker, Daegron the Morpher bitterly wept...

[Nemesis]

Daegron

Skills	*	*
Meditation	*	+3
Morphing	*	+3
Observation	*	+1
Rhetoric	*	+2
Storytelling	*	+1

Lores

Morphing Model: Raelann Glynn

Personality: Benevolent

Personality: Indulgence

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Consequences, Injuries, Expenses, and More!

• Overgiving: minor effects, particularly shaking in Daegron's extremities.
• Overgiving: For the next three seasons, he will dread his own reflection and fearfully avoid it. Any other face or transformation he uses will be fine, but he won't dare to see his own natural face at all.

__________

• Liked this thread; nice to see Daegron's personality... breaking up into four separate entities! Lores for the last two, seeing as I already gave you the other, and I can also change the Morphing Models if you want, but I wasn't sure how to do them...