ORIGIN

Regalia drifted into the hole once again, feeling excitement to once again be descending, to be visiting the God that it so craved to see. That it so craved to hear from. Before it, it held the heart of obsidian that it had ripped from the zebra's chest not too long ago, what viscera had remained clinging to it long decomposed into oil (that Regalia had consumed swiftly). It descended down the tunnel, making sure to keep its gaze on the stone but excited to see the Altar appear before it, beautiful void-white marble glimmering and beckoning it forward.

There was a jolt in its chest as the obsidian began to glow white as well, white as the altar, and it sped up its pace until it, at last, reached the deep cave that it had craved so desperately to see.

Ah...ah this was wonderful. It was back here, within the heart of chaos, where He had spoken to it and told it to become worthy, to show that it could destroy and consume...perhaps it had not achieved those goals yet, however. No, it did not. It had not consumed enough, it had not destroyed enough. There was still so much more to do.

But, for now, it set the obsidian on the altar, releasing its grip of magic. It was here just for one reason.

Once the stone had been placed on the altar, Regalia drifted forward, sinking down so that it was, more or less, sitting. Not in the way a cat would sit, as its body would imply, since as soon as its legs began to touch the ground, they pooled outwards. No, it sat until its gem was resting on the ground, no longer holding itself up in the air - sitting. It still had the body, head, and tail of a cat, just...no legs.

Excitement was wracking its brain. It was going to see Him again. Oh how it had desired to be trapped within His grasp again, hearing His voice, feeling his all-consuming will pressing down against it, showing it images of chaos and destruction and violence that it had fully taken into its being.

It was too much for Regalia, and put a stop to its magic before it could fully form.

Regalia paused for a moment, calming itself. Focusing, so that it could reach out. Perhaps not to create such a personal, two way connection this time, but at least casting its voice forward so that, if He was here, if Anyone was here, then they would hear its voice. Even if it just touched the magic in the air, if there was any risidual consciousness near or within the altar...hopefully, Regalia's magic would touch them.

"I have brought this offering for you," it whispered in its hundred voices. "A heart of obsidian, pulled from the body of the unworthy. I have destroyed her. I have consumer her. And I offer what remains of her life, of her magic, to you." It wished that it had more to say, more to offer to Him, but that was it. Perhaps to keep it simple was better. This was not a grand occasion, at least it hoped it wasn't, but simply an offering, as a subject would offer to a god. As Regalia wished the gembound of these caves would do for it...but that was another matter. Right now, it was between it and Him. Nobody else.

Its excitement was satiated when His presence once again appeared to it, sweeping it up in chaos and overwhelming power, nearly choking it in the thick smog of Him, but it steadied itself. It was strong. It could hold itself in His presence. It didn't know what He would want with the stone, but it wasn't expecting Him to crush it. Perhaps receive it or just leave it there or drain the magic or life or something else. It happened so fast that Regalia barely comprehended what happened before a bolt of black something arched for it and struck its gemstone.

It had never experienced pain before, nor suffering of the flesh, believing itself to be wholly above all of that, with its lack of a physical nervous system, but it realized in an instant that it was wrong. It could feel pain. A different kind of pain then the rending of skin and bone but something deeper and so much worse. Its very core was breaking apart, His influence so powerful and filling that its very soul was going to split. It screamed, both in its many lights suddenly glaring up at once and through magic, the echo of agonized screeching rising from the ground beneath it. In a second though, it went silent as it was swept away by something Else. Chaos, it knew, more of Him. And it had been given a gift - the last of the horse's magic, twined within a piece of Him.

It was still for a while as the shadows disperse, eyes staring forward for a moment, before it began to rise, legs reforming, until it hovered, once again, an inch or two above the ground.

It said nothing as it turned around, listening closely to the whispers that followed it. Straining to hear. Those are secrets. I must hear them. I must make more chaos - so that they will speak to me and I prove myself worthy. But something else followed Regalia out as well. The memories of pain and suffering, just for a moment, more intense then any emotion or feeling or moment it had ever experienced before. Pain that was quelled by chaos and rewarded with power. So it left with a shard of its heart darker then before.

Suffering it is, then. Pain is what brings us closer to power. We balance our suffering with chaos. Or...no, chaos fights pain? Pain causes chaos... It juggled its thoughts, for the first time confused, but it had to seek it out more. Pain. Suffering. In itself, in others. It had to know.

*exit