-|Beyond The Element | IC|-

In the middle of nowhere, with nothing around, there stood a woman. She was gorgeous by all rights, with long flowing blond hair, and skin as smooth and creamy as any in all the worlds. Her eyes held no color and the pure black orbs almond in shape, were knowing, all too knowing. There was power in this being, and wisdom that came with age. This one, this woman, was the oldest. She was ruler of all. Everything bowed to her, though none knew of her. She preferred it that way. Enjoyed watching all that was hers flourish and come to life. But there were troubles ahead, and it pained her so to see that there would be pain. And death. Even knowing those things to be mandatory for balance, it still made her ache for the losses her creations would feel. They were all her children. All hers to protect, and to care for. But now, she must let them chose for themselves, must let them decide if they would stand up, and fight that which was coming, or perish. Turning from her spot, the Nameless one looked into the small pool of water that appeared behind her, simply floating there, unhindered by time or space. This was where it all begin. Time and space had no authority here, not for her, nor any she chose to bring here, not that she'd ever brought anyone there. No, the Nameless one was content in her solitude. That didn't mean she wasn't above helping, even when two worlds were always at war. Reaching out her hand, she sent waves, small at first, and then slowly they grew to great crashing things, into the pool of water. Thoughts, feelings, and clarity raced through the night, into the heart of the Gods, those that she loved, those that knew nothing of her, and filled their heads with the clarity to see what was coming...

In a land of water, ruled by the one true Goddess Cerridwen, sat a woman, the Goddess herself, in a pool of gorgeous water. She was suspended, the water forming a throne behind, and under her. A gorgeous Goddess she was, with flowing rivets of hair the color of onyx, and eyes, as green and cool as the seas themselves. She was silently sitting there, staring at her priestesses as they bowed and paid her homage, as was their custom. "Enough, my dearest, devote servants. I have much to speak of, much that has come to my attention, and not a moment to spare on the matter." Frowning, she lifted her gaze to the looking glass that hovered next to her, though it was no ordinary glass. The center, where the pane should have been, was cool water that was constantly moving, flowing, swirling round and round. "I need a spirit brought to me. One of courage, and strength. Bring me... Bring me Tanna. She is who I wish to see." Nodding lightly, Cerridwen leaned back in her chair and let her eyes fall on her Priestesses as they nodded and bowed to her once more before turning and gliding out of her temple, their minds set to find Tanna Nhayaryl...

-|Sometime later|-

The Goddess had spoken to her? Her personally? Tanna was still in slight shock at the out comings. She hadn't ever expected to have a private audience with the Goddess herself. It had thrilled, and terrified, the water spirit all that the same time. And yet, here she was, some hours later, with naught but her mind and sword to guide her in this journey. She sailed through the waters, her deep auburn hair lightly held in place at the back of her head so that numerous other tendrils fell down her back to wash lightly over her skin. She wore a gown of white, that dipped low in the front, and back, pooling lightly around the edges, and her shoulders were bare, save for the very top, where the gown was clasped with a small, silver amulet in the shape of a water drop. Her eyes were cool, the color of sharpened glass, as they looked in front of her. There, the portal to the Dance was just there. With a surge of speed, her tail jerking nervously as she swam through the water, Tanna darted through the portal, legs instantly appearing instead of fin, and fine legs they were, the color of cool peach, as was the rest of her skin. And though she was no longer wet, she smelled of the sea, salt, and there was triumph in her eyes as she looked about the dance, trying to find her Polar opposite.

I felt the tension move through the hall, a small kick in the stomach of the assembled Yevon. Marthas was about to speak, and we would listen to him for the first time in over a hundred and seventy years… The room spun lightly around me, the great torches baking the room to a comfortable glow seemed to shiver with anticipation, and the air vibrated with the force of Marthas’ will.
“Freedan. You will end it.” Marthas, the God of Fire, was a being of few words and little wasted effort. When he asked that something be done, it was done and done quickly because that was what our lord and benefactor had asked. I stood silently, abandoned my meal and my conversation, and walked swiftly and confidently down the marble path between the tables to approach the empty throne table. I stopped in front of the representation, a physical table for a being that had long since abandoned his intimidating physical form, and waited for the remainder of the message that would seal my fate.

When Freedan reached the Dance Of The Gods, a holy union of the worlds that transcended the barriers between the balanced nations, his key began to feel heavy in his hand. This is where he would meet a Gelus for the first time. Cold, heartless beings that thirsted eternally and despised fire… He could see the repulsive, slimy skin of a water dweller already. His vision stood in stark contrast to his own form, tall and muscular, with bronzed skin and spiked black hair. His leather armor was a functional work of art, more for show than any real need for protection. The silk headband fluttered lightly in a nonexistent breeze.

The stone towers rose around him, some pristine and others worn to near shreds by the ebb and flow of magic around them. This was the will of Marthas, that he be the warrior to challenge a God, alone but for the meager assistance of a watery tart with no soul. He entered the circle, head held high, and challenged his future to be something more than he could face, challenged it to show him his true strength. This would be his goal, his worthy fight, his defining struggle for centuries to come!