With his first look, Rothyanomon was momentarily taken aback by the volume of Souls Igvaughn had brought with him. There were thousands. Taking in their erratic maneuvering, he assessed their lack of skill as they dodged the lights flying at them. There would be none left at this rate, he surmised. Then, he felt him. Elyohm… stuck… vulnerable… prey.
Struggling, Elyohm wanted to reach down and choke the life out of Ely. The drowning human of him was refusing to die. As long as Ely fought his way to air, Elyohm was tethered. Damn free will, Elyohm cursed. Until Ely died, the power and light of Elyohm would not be free. Elyohm wrenched and heaved as he tried to disconnect his last thread of light from his humanity. Suddenly, his senses jolted into overdrive, and Elyohm knew. Rothyanomon had turned his way.
“Die and let me go!” Elyohm demanded again as both Soul and Human fought desperately for their lives.
Just as Rothyanomon aimed himself in attack, Ely let out his held breath and succumbed. Elyohm jerked free and spun, throwing a wall of light so large every shadowy Soul that remained alive immediately withdrew into the darkest hole they could find. Rothyanomon was not so lucky.
His aim, momentum, and blind determination were too direct and too fast to avoid the brightest center of Elyohm’s wall of light. With almost full impact, Rothyanomon hit the light so hard, it stripped off multiple layers of his immensely shadowed density. But not all.
When Elyohm saw the SurakSa in their relaxed retreat, he pulled in his light. Surveying the carnage of death, movement above the water caught his eye. In the distance, Archangel Michael was watching him. When their essence met in camaraderie, Michael gave Elyohm a slight bow of his head, then followed his SurakSa home.
Looking back across the ocean, hungry sea life began to arrive. Elyohm paused, spoke a blessing, then felt the pull within. Rothyanomon was nearby. Turning, Elyohm hid his surprise. Seeing his soulmate so emaciated drained his own will to fight. Rothyanomon had no element of supremacy or power left. It was enough. Elyohm reformed himself into an orb of light, then disappeared through the dimensional fabric, and into Etherea.
Pulling up every ounce of will still in him, Rothyanomon roared, “I-- will-- kill-- you--!” His bellow was so loud, its soundwave reverberated through every dimensional veil of Etherea, and into the celestial realm of Saura Antu.
Elyohm heard. Michael heard. Igvaughn slipped out of sight.
* * * * *
Emaciated and alone, Rothyanomon hovered. With layers upon layers of his shrouded shadow stripped away in an instant, his rage and resentment of Elyohm had become absolute. As the reverberation of his promise to end his soulmate resounded into silence, his spent body did not leave... could not leave. Then...
At the very spot he hovered, his vow became an energy mass before his eyes. Reaching his hand to it, the mass dove into him through his open palm. Feeding… nourishing… filling him full... The angry energy then quickly condensed and dropped deeper. It found the seed of anger Rothyanomon held for Elyohm and fertilized it. Its shadowy essence rose up from within him and through his palm, compelling his arm in outstretch. The external match of the internal vow formed in seedy reflection… and waited.
His energy quickly regenerating, Rothyanomon stared at the hostile tendrils thrusting wildly from the seed in his outstretched hand. Seething with life, the volatile frequencies of anger, resentment and their myriad energies of resonant match twisted… gnarled… bristled… The eerie gradients of blacks, grays, browns and muddy yellows were… exquisite.
As the willing tendrils in body and seed entangled, the strength of Rothyanomon surged and made itself known to him once again. Closing his eyes, he drew his power up from within him… once… twice… a third time, and then… A sinister grin emerged in Rothyanomon's throat, and he growled in proclamation to no one – and everyone...
“I am the Power. I am the Darkness. I am the Master over all that Shadow is – and all that Shadow will become."
In ritual, Rothyanomon then placed the living seed in mid-air before him. With concentrated will, he sprouted its life. Roots grew thick and tangled, while bare gnarling branches splayed beyond sight. As Rothyanomon breathed design into the growth, root met branch and the threading began.
It was but a moment and the seed had become a pulsating wall of energy made of the angers and resentments between separated soulmates. As the wall liquified into its obscure transparency blanketing the planet, the Veil of Aghala formed, and the first world of Shadow in Avani Matri’s Game of Humanity had come into existence.
Satisfied and reinvigorated, Rothyanomon determined himself severed from Elyohm forever. Which, of course, he never could be.
