Shadow of the Abyss

"The Madness of the Queen is the price we all must pay."

Altair gritted his teeth. He didn't understand what that had to do with him. Damn the Abyss. Damn the Queen. He wanted only to be sane, not a lesson on history. History be damned.

Furiously, he opened his mouth to speak his mind, but primal instinct held his mouth shut.

No matter how Iliana behaved, she was fiercely loyal to her queen, to the Abyss. If he had criticism, it was best to leave it as thoughts.

"Master…" he had to squeeze the words out. "How does this madness help me?"

Iliana shrugged. "You've your father's nasty habit of indulging. Matters of the flesh seem oh so sweet to you, Snows. We Abyssals understand. We are no different, especially after our queen commanded that no Abyssal shall reproduce asexually. So, for the first time in our history.

We indulged in matters of the flesh with men."

'More history lessons.' Altair had to bite back the curses on the precipice of his tongue.

As if reading his mind, Iliana went on. "Don't be so quick to dismiss my words, boy. It's these very lesions that'll keep you alive within the Abyss. Your torment is minuscule compared to what you shall face there." she shook her head suddenly. "There are two ways to survive the elements of the Abyss. One is by being one with the Abyss.

Knowing it, or being strong enough on your own to resist it. You are far from that."

Altair might have flinched if anger had not permeated his features. "The Elements? Surely you…"

"The Spatial Winds, within the confines of space, can kill even a Fell God, myself included in some Zones. Dead Laws could spring up, and you somehow find that the Element of Destruction has eroded other Dao, turning you into a mist before you know it.

Battle between Lesser Abyssals; those not yet blessed with conscious thoughts are frequent, many strong enough to force their way into the Omnis Ranking: This is the type of place my Queen seeks to banish you to."

"Dead Laws… can do that?"

"You are currently in a Refined World, so there is little chance of creating Dead Laws, even if you use Almighty. For Almighty was used to refine the rest of the Tower." Iliana folded an arm beneath her breast and stared. "You've been extremely lucky, or Athena or some of your other patrons have paid quite a price to keep you alive when Dead Laws do descend. But they are dangerous.

I once stepped into an area where there was no such thing as 'Force.' I nearly died, forced to create my own laws then and there; in the same instance, my cells lost structure.
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Altair drew in a deep breath and released it, alongside his anger, to possess the calm of a still lake. A difficult thing, with the madness raging on inside his head. He had managed to keep all his emotions in check. All except lust. He could do nothing about that. But it was enough that at least one of his desires was out of control.

Two at the most.

"What is this training?"

"Two types of training," Iliana said joyously, patting him on the shoulder. It was only then he realized how tall she was. She was nearly as tall as he was. "The first is your eternal battle with your other you. You needn't despair so much. That part of you is a fragment.

It cannot torment you long. Five hours a day tops with how weak you are. You'll train with him. Or rather, he'll kill you a lot. Take this time to learn from him. That mere fragment is everything you hope to be but crueler.

Crueler in ways that will break you if you let him lose."

'The second type of training will be with me, training both you and—"

"The Vale King"

"Sure. The Vale King. When he is loose, he will die by my hands." she gave a flourish of her palm, and an intricate formation emblazoned with abyssal runes came to the surface of the lawn. "Hades is quite the genius for creating such a formation. So I stole it and made it my own. This formation will keep you alive no matter how much I kill you."

"I don't want to—" HIs world went to black at the palm he could see but not resist, touching his forehead. His head was probably a mist by now, he thought, finding himself once more within the dystopian Realm of Madness.

Hundreds of red eyes and mouths, gleaming with jagged teeth, rose as if to swallow the Shadowscape and him, the Vale King, wielding a sword of blackest night.

"Draw your blade, Blackwood,' he demanded.

A jagged fang of Vale snapped into Altair's palm, shaping into a longsword. In his off-hand, another appeared, as he stared, opening himself to the Sword Path, to the world of perfection: Hundreds of slashes, strokes, and thrusts that foretold greatness.

"You'll only die quicker!" The Vale King declared, planting a foot forward. He vanished, and the twenty paces that separated them were crossed in an instant.

Altair didn't have time to wonder how the Vale King could skip through space while he could only command speed, which made him appear as if he had teleported by compressing space. His blade shrieked, arcing into a turbulent gale that clashed against the Vale Kings.

Embers fountained into the night, illuminating the ghoulish eyes and mouths plaguing the realm.

And as quickly as they clashed, a hundred more followed. Shadow Blade, Severing Edge, Devouring Night, Falling Moon, Heavens End, Black Abyss, and Grave of Night all seamlessly erupted in a clash so defying the two appeared a like black sun.

Most of the forms Altair had never used. His body simply couldn't handle the power, but he had no choice. Not only was the Vale King proficient in each of the Seven Forms of Grave of Night, but he had achieved a level of mastery Altair never imagined was possible.

'Combinations!' he thought, battered by hundreds of lacerations across his body. To say nothing of his shattered bones and injured internal organs now mush form his poor proficiency over the Seven Sword forms of Grave of Night. He was alive only due to desperation, he knew, clinging to hope. Yet no matter what he did, The Vale King always held the advantage.

Unlike him, the Vale King had hundreds, thousands of combinations in which he swung his sword with each form, forcing him into a trap that he could not even defend against but rather had to sacrifice either a limb or a deep laceration. He always chose the latter.

"Die, die, die!" The Vale King roared as his sword wove a pattern of a rose blossoming thousands of petals, scarlet as blood and as evil of sin. Altair blinked, omniscience devouring everything he could as his head, arms, eyes, and fingers were shredded to pieces.

****

"I win!' The Vale King crackled. "I always win!" he grinned, turning to face the amused Iliana. His smile deepened, and his palatine voice grew ever more regal. "Even if I lose. I'll at least scar your body. Perhaps I will claim it."

"In all the myriad heavens, there isn't a greater hand-to-hand master than I." she declared. "In all of the Myriad Heavens, there is no greater Arcanist than my sister Renru. Weakest amongst us generals, her mind is absolute. And we, Abyss, all possess the ability to share each other's lived experiences. To be the other while being ourselves. We are a hive mind, boy.

If you think you can scar me. Even as a mortal, then you are either arrogant or a fool. Perhaps both."

If the Vale King was perturbed, he did not show it, electing a laugh. "Altair has just begun to Master Patterns. But you. How far are you? How high have you reached?"

"Me?" Iliana grinned. "It's funny how a worm that has yet learned to crawl approaches a god, demanding such knowledge." Her lips thinned, and an otherworldly resistance pulled at causality. "Come at me, boy. Let your master shatter that foolish notion of yours."

The Vale King was without fear, even as his body trembled with knowing, even when the Heart of Darkness thumped furiously in his chest. He would forever walk towards his death without fear. Undeterred and Unsullied.

He bounded forward, pushing Sovereign Gale to its absolute limit, weaving his sword into such an intricate pattern it seemed almost impossible to gage the slashes. Yet effortlessly, Iliana weaved through them with the grace of a dancer.

"For your Omniscience," she declared as her forefinger moved across empty space.

In a single instance, the Vale King saw, or rather perceived, an attack that existed as a one-dimensional attack, somehow divided into two, then four, then six, stretching into infinity, exceeding the perceived limit of comprehension.

"To be an Archeon, one needs not to surpass infinity but break it." she proclaimed, lowering her finger. "To reach Paragon, one needed to devour Infinity or what comes after the Breaking. Let this be my lesson to you, child."

Blood trickled down the Vale King's nose as the Vale Sword in his palm disbursed. He stumbled back, inches from Iliana, and tumbled to his knees. A look that could not be perceived whirling through his eyes as he looked up at her.

"You are my Master…" And he was gone, turned to less than particles, his conscious mind returning to face Altair within the Dystopian Shadowscape.