Another place in Khobos

Nothing much is happening here yet, but who knows... who's the Inheritor? How does it tie in?

Everyone has a Dream. For some, it defines who they are; others are content to simply draw strength from knowing they’re there. Most people, as one could reasonably assume, are not overtly driven to reach their goals. They may not be content or satisfied with their lives, yes - but Dreams? Aren’t Dreams some outlandish thing, far away and unreachable except by the greatest explosions of fortune? Why bother truly expending the effort to run after them, full sprint? These people, I find, are called reasonable. The unreasonable ones - they’re the ones who will stop at nothing to achieve their true Dream.

Iryllis had never had a dream she could call his own. What was it like to have such grand visions of your own future? What did it feel like to have that shining beacon at the back of your head, just outside of your reach and yet so distant? She supposed it would have given her vertigo, gazing up that insurmountable mountain known as the Dream. Yes, she had never had a Dream. And so, as a seer and many seers predicted a year and ten years ago, bathing in the still-golden glow of New Maladia, when she did gain one - it would, inevitably, become the Dream that shattered the world. For they knew she was the Inheritor. And the seers, and the ten seers, they were not called All-wise for naught.

Iryllis, yes, the Inheritor - that was her name. A Dream most dreadful did she gain, and a Hunger of the worst possible kind imaginable. Picture, if you will, the Colossal Serpent, who in her terrible hunger finally devoured herself - such was her lust, and such was her hunger, and such was her sin! Her coming was feared!

And not a single Self was saved!

**

Leaves rustled peacefully in the warm summer breeze, making leaf-shaped shadows dance on Marji’s dress as she gazed down into the city. A warm hum shrouded it in pleasant sounds, scents and sights; distant but familiar, they soothed the anxious countess’ nerves. This spot, located at the very top of the Summer Palace, was Marji’s favourite. It was a lush garden, filled with the most beautiful plants one could find anywhere on, purchased and transported there at great expense to the Council. But as beautiful as the plants, trees, flowers and miniature lakes of the Thousand Gardens were, they couldn’t hold a candle to the view it offered. Gazing down from the gardens, one could see the entirety of New Maladia and everything around it up until the sea, from the beautiful gold-lined buildings of the city itself to the lush green fields around it, to the downwards-sloping coastline dotted by dazzlingly white docks and shipyards, off of which the sunlight shone as if reflecting some inner glow from within the stone, even to the myriad of lush, green parks and recreational lakes dotted around the city. It was a literal paradise, all made possible by the magnificence of the Eleven Potentials.