"It's true. In fact, the wooden man I sent for you is one of its." adds the Reasonable. "However, not all of the things is creates are so harmless. I saw it make a swarm of insects out of some sand that drained all the water from a rose vine. I took care of that quickly, there's no telling what how much damage creatures such as those would do left to their own devises. It doesn't seem actively malicious, however. Everything that I've seen leads me to believe that these creations are involuntary. In fact, I don't believe the being, by itself, to capable of harming anyo-"
It's at that monument that sparks start to fly between it and Crav, as the static taste of energy begins to build up in the air. The creature's long tail circles around Crav, constricting in, and the lead part, the little petal, hovers a hairs breath from his face is seeming fascination. It tries to get closer, and the pressure in the air builds as something in Crav pushes back. The Reasonable can't help but be reminded of what happened when Fortune had attempted to grasp the small petal in his hand. Yes, this was the same sort of buildup, the same pressure, but this time the being was initiating it. It was activity exerting it's power, trying to do....what? He glanced back over at the living ship, all smart and trimmed in gold, and had a inkling.
What was beyond an Overgod?
That, however, was not a question that would be answered today.
As if the two were a pair of opposing magnets, the being broke the connection and was flung away, filled with some much energy that it was not so much a trail of objects as an enormous bolt of lightning. It impacted the desert with a mighty crash, disappearing seamlessly into the sand and taking it's entire tail with it. When the light finally fades away, all that remains is a tiny white flower, glowing softly in the desert.
Then there's a pulse, one so deep and base that the sand lifts up and vibrates before settling down.
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In Spectropolis proper, the Watchman suddenly spins on his heel and looks off in the distance, toward one of the walls.
The Veteran gives his boss the side eyes and goes, "Uh, Boss?"
"Did you feel that?" The Watchman asks.
"Feel what?"
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There's another pulse from beneath the sand, displacing still more. The reasonable looks down to see the kicked up sand covering his boots, and stares at the little flower intently.
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"Oh." Goes the Veteran, suddenly tensing up. "Yeah, that one I felt."
"Come on." Said the Watchman, lifting off toward where the pulses where he felt those pulses.
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"EVERYBODY GET BACK!" calls the Reasonable, but amid the roar of growth and the sudden motion no one hears him. Stems and long thorny vines twist up from the ground, spiraling into the air higher and higher, as water streams from them and collects around the basin of the new growth. Swarms of butterflies seemingly spring into being and whirl around the ever assenting main stalks as cascades of fish rain down, collecting in the basin and little ponds along the way. As the titanic growth begins to slow, an enormous flower bursts forth from the summit, a beautiful white and red bloom that gives off a scent sweet enough to calm even raging beasts.
When the Watchman arrives he finds a sort of citadel the size of a small town. A tower made of enormous, twisting trees rising imposingly from a new moat. Despite the fact that the growth appeared natural it also, paradoxically, seemed crafted. Indeed, from where he was he could see windows, doors, balconies set into the side of this flower as if it had grown them. This was made all the more evident by the long vine bridges leading up across the moat and into the place itself, as if they had just, by shear coincidence, grown that way.
"What in Haels name?" he said quietly as the Veteran caught up.
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The Reasonable pulled himself up out of a small pool of crystal blue water, shaking his head and looking around. They were inside some sort of room, slits in the plant matter above them letting natural light stream down onto the mossy floor and reflect of puddles brimming with small fish to cast dappled shadow on the walls.
"Is everyone all right?" He tries to say, but is drowned out by a booming cry of "MASTER, ARE YOU UNHARMED?!" from a very cramped Fortune.
The entity is nowhere in sight.
Hey son, wanna' learn how ta' make witch balls?
Locked
