Kael
Tiberius trudged through the gloom of the corridors, his way lit by a small witchlight. Even he dare not risk waking the creatures that were rumoured to slumber there. On and on he walked, exploring seemingly the endless labyrinth of stone tunnels.
It had taken him much searching, but after many days and much gold spent, he had been led to a well, bricked up long ago by the ancestors of those who lived in the town. At first he had been skeptical - why would a tomb’s entrance be this dried up well? But it wasn’t long before his information had been proven correct. And so, he explored. Tiberius had long since lost track of time, but judging from the crude map he had sketched of his travels, he was thankful that he didn’t need to eat or drink like a human. Something glittered in the distance. Eyes, perhaps? No, it was something metal. His witchlight intensified slightly, illuminating a pair of vast wooden doors, bound with what appeared to be solid gold fittings inscribed with a font, the origins of which escaped him.
’This is it!’ Tiberius grinned, triumph crossing his features. The vampire placed his right hand against the center of the door and pushed expectantly. It did not budge. Frowning, he shoved harder, using both hands. Still, it did not budge. He snarled, putting every ounce of his strength into opening the doors, but again to no avail. Panting, the vampire dropped to the ground to rest. After a few moments, he became aware of the faint sound of laughter. It gradually increased in volume, until it seemed the very halls were echoing with it.
’Do you seek entry, little vampire? Is that what you desire?’ Spoke a voice in his mind. It was a male’s voice, deep and powerful, its tones rife with suppressed laughter and, he thought, just a hint of condescension.
Undeterred, Tiberius raised his voice in response. “That is what I seek! Open these doors, that I might enter your domain.” ’Oh? Very well, little vampire. Very well.’ Suddenly, Tiberius felt a great force tugging at every inch of his being, pulling him inexorably towards the doors. He dug his feet into the stone floor, grasped at the walls - but still he moved. Closer and closer, while the doors remained sealed shut. And then, just as he thought that he might actually be crushed against them, the force ceased and he found himself in a vast room. The corridor had vanished, the doors along with it. Instead, there was darkness in every direction, but for the small pool of light in which Tiberius now stood. Tentatively, he made his witchlight brighter and brighter, until he could not bear the glow. And yet, there was still no sign anywhere of even a wall. As far as he was currently aware, there were none. There may have even been nothing else but for him and his bubble of light. And so he sat. And waited. Surely, something would come along eventually. ’Oh, but you look lonely.’ Spoke the voice finally.
“Who are you? Show yourself!” Roared Tiberius.
’Well that’s no good. I’ve had no one to play with for such a very long time!’
“I did not come here to play games.”
’Oh, fine. Have it your way,’ answered the voice, dejected.
Tiberius’s witchlight went out, plunging the world into black, and he felt fear touch his heart.
“Ig--”
’Ignis aduro?’ Interrupted the voice, and vast concentric circles of fire pits burst into flame, centered around a stone dais.
Tiberius hesitated, glancing about. He now stood in an enormous room - still too large to be believable, but an enormous improvement on darkness as far as the eye could see. The walls and floor were made of the same sandstone bricks as the labyrinth had just explored, which reassured him somehow. Atop the platform rested a large gold sarcophagus, its lid missing.
“It can’t be…” Breathed Tiberius. He ran toward the sarcophagus and bounded up the stairs. Inside lay a giant bone comb, the full length of the casket.
"... What?" Tiberius's face contorted in confusion as the comb waved its tines emphatically at him.
And then the laughter began again. Deep, rolling chortles. Tiberius spun around to find a tall man standing on the steps of the stone dais, clutching his sides in fits of laughter. The man wore only a pair of loose-fitting trousers, his lightly tanned torso naked in the flame light. When he finally stopped laughing, Tiberius could see vibrant purple eyes glimmering under the man’s short black hair. Well, mostly short. A long braid of hair grew from the back of the man’s head, its tail almost brushing the floor.
’You should have seen yourself!’ He exclaimed. ’The look on your face! Such excitement! Bewilderment! And then such disappointment! I had forgotten how amusing you humans were. Ah, sorry, sorry! I meant mortals.’
Tiberius scowled. “Just who are you?”
The man smiled. ’I think you know. I am known by some as Kismet.’
“Fate?” Repeated the vampire. “But that’s…”
Recognition passed over Tiberius’s face. “But that means… You’re Kael, god of Madness and Fate!”
’Haha! He’s got it, but at what cost!’
Tiberius blinked, astonished. This was definitely not what was supposed to be here. Nor whom.
Kael floated to a seated position on the steps of his dais, clapping his thigh loudly. ’So, young vampire. Why have you come? Is it power, yes?’
“I do. Power to protect my people.”
’Is that so? That’s not quite what I’ve seen. But I think I can help you,’ smiled Kael, a wild glimmer in his eye. ’For a price.’
“Name it,” answered Tiberius.
Undeterred, Tiberius raised his voice in response. “That is what I seek! Open these doors, that I might enter your domain.” ’Oh? Very well, little vampire. Very well.’ Suddenly, Tiberius felt a great force tugging at every inch of his being, pulling him inexorably towards the doors. He dug his feet into the stone floor, grasped at the walls - but still he moved. Closer and closer, while the doors remained sealed shut. And then, just as he thought that he might actually be crushed against them, the force ceased and he found himself in a vast room. The corridor had vanished, the doors along with it. Instead, there was darkness in every direction, but for the small pool of light in which Tiberius now stood. Tentatively, he made his witchlight brighter and brighter, until he could not bear the glow. And yet, there was still no sign anywhere of even a wall. As far as he was currently aware, there were none. There may have even been nothing else but for him and his bubble of light. And so he sat. And waited. Surely, something would come along eventually. ’Oh, but you look lonely.’ Spoke the voice finally.
“Who are you? Show yourself!” Roared Tiberius.
’Well that’s no good. I’ve had no one to play with for such a very long time!’
“I did not come here to play games.”
’Oh, fine. Have it your way,’ answered the voice, dejected.
Tiberius’s witchlight went out, plunging the world into black, and he felt fear touch his heart.
“Ig--”
’Ignis aduro?’ Interrupted the voice, and vast concentric circles of fire pits burst into flame, centered around a stone dais.
Tiberius hesitated, glancing about. He now stood in an enormous room - still too large to be believable, but an enormous improvement on darkness as far as the eye could see. The walls and floor were made of the same sandstone bricks as the labyrinth had just explored, which reassured him somehow. Atop the platform rested a large gold sarcophagus, its lid missing.
“It can’t be…” Breathed Tiberius. He ran toward the sarcophagus and bounded up the stairs. Inside lay a giant bone comb, the full length of the casket.
"... What?" Tiberius's face contorted in confusion as the comb waved its tines emphatically at him.
And then the laughter began again. Deep, rolling chortles. Tiberius spun around to find a tall man standing on the steps of the stone dais, clutching his sides in fits of laughter. The man wore only a pair of loose-fitting trousers, his lightly tanned torso naked in the flame light. When he finally stopped laughing, Tiberius could see vibrant purple eyes glimmering under the man’s short black hair. Well, mostly short. A long braid of hair grew from the back of the man’s head, its tail almost brushing the floor.
’You should have seen yourself!’ He exclaimed. ’The look on your face! Such excitement! Bewilderment! And then such disappointment! I had forgotten how amusing you humans were. Ah, sorry, sorry! I meant mortals.’
Tiberius scowled. “Just who are you?”
The man smiled. ’I think you know. I am known by some as Kismet.’
“Fate?” Repeated the vampire. “But that’s…”
Recognition passed over Tiberius’s face. “But that means… You’re Kael, god of Madness and Fate!”
’Haha! He’s got it, but at what cost!’
Tiberius blinked, astonished. This was definitely not what was supposed to be here. Nor whom.
Kael floated to a seated position on the steps of his dais, clapping his thigh loudly. ’So, young vampire. Why have you come? Is it power, yes?’
“I do. Power to protect my people.”
’Is that so? That’s not quite what I’ve seen. But I think I can help you,’ smiled Kael, a wild glimmer in his eye. ’For a price.’
“Name it,” answered Tiberius.
Divine Domains
Fate
Divine Classification
God
Children
Gender
Male
Eyes
Vibrant purple
Hair
Short, black
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