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ASPECT: Wonder Woman Pt. 1

Tiberis cried in pain as the whip cracked against his back.

How many blows had it been? The crowd of onlookers wondered on how many more he could withstand and as the blood spilled from the great wounds in his back onto the floor of the camp it felt that he might die before relenting. The Arch Sayer, Pantheon stood above him, the great whip of Attrition gripped tight in his hand, blood flowing down its handle and onto his great, calloused knuckles.

“Will you yield, Tiberis?” bellowed the Arch Sayer, his voice wearied and sick from the task at hand, “Do not make me continue this terrible deed, my Liege. Simply… yield.”

Pantheon was asking of Tiberis to give his loyalty, unbroken and unquestioned to the Goddess Gaia, ruler of the first kingdom. This, of course, was not in Tiberis’ power to do. Not because he was physically unable, but because his pride would not allow him. For his entire life, Tiberis and his kin had lived under the rule of the Goddess Gaea, she who saw over all Pangaea, the great land of the Celtic Tribes and had permeated all that she touched with her presence. As Tiberis had come of age he had become unsettled with this presence, the very air itself seeming to him to be permeated with a scent, the sickly smell of woman. He beseeched his father, the King of the people of Brigantes to open his senses to the wrongness all around them and to see that a terrible mistake had been made. His father, stubborn as all mules would not listen and when he passed, Tiberis’ gladly took his place as King. Immediately, he turned his attentions to the Great Council Of Brigantes and told them of his views, of his belief that Gaea, that woman was not meant to rule over men such as they and that it were time for them to take back their rightful position as rulers.

Blasphemy, cried the council and the Arch Sayer, the mighty Pantheon warned Tiberis of such heresy. Long had the Arch Sayers stood as ambassadors for Gaea in all her lands and none amongst them were more feared than Pantheon. He told Tiberis of the fate that would befall him if he continued upon such a path of heresy and Tiberis knew that the Arch Sayer was not a man of idle threat. Yet still this fire burned in Tiberis’ chest. Still a voice cried to him and in the darkest moments of night, he would seek its council, so soothing was its’ rage so wise were its’ words. It told him of the lies that Gaea had built her kingdom upon, of how she were not the first of the Gods to rise from Chaos and lay claim to the world of Pangaea. The voice told that there had been figures before her, figures of Man and that it were their right to rule, their right to lay claim to all before them, not Gaeas’. Tiberis knew that as long as the eyes of men were blinded by the words of Gaea they would never know freedom, so he set upon the terrible task of burning her from his world.

He set ablaze the churches of Gaea in his kingdom, followed by a band of zealots, he put fire to her beliefs and when his kingdom awoke the next day to see what had occurred, they thought their King lost to madness. The Arch Sayers soldiers dragged the King and his followers to the great podium at the centre of their empire and one by one, Pantheon cleft the followers heads from their bodies with his mighty sword, Tartarus. Of course, such a fate was not befitting of a King and having forced the King to his knees, his tunic ripped from his torso, Pantheon proceeded with the whip of Attrition. It was unseemly for a King to die with madness upon his lips and, if there were no option but to execute Tiberis, then the Sayer knew he needed to draw a retraction from him for his actions, lest the people of Brigantes be unsatisfied and seek satisfaction in other ways.

Lash after lash rained down upon the young Kings back, yet, speak constantly did Tiberis, question his torturer did he, his voice droning on and on with reason and steel certainty that what he believed was true. Out into the ears of the onlookers did it reach, each word strong and undeniable, broken only by the sickening gulps of air that would be forced from his tattered body by the falling of Attrition and the thud of whip upon bone.

For many an hour did the torture proceed, sweat seeping from Pantheons’ brow as blood seeped from Tiberis’ wounds. Yet still did he talk, still did he argue his position and finally realizing the futility of his actions, Pantheon dropped the whip of Attrition and put his hand to the hilt of Tartarus, the blade of death.

“Having failed to repent for your sins, Tiberis,” Bellowed Pantheon, to the ragged form below him, “I have no choice but to end your reign as King, as surely as I must end your life. Such s the power bestowed to me by the Goddess, our ruler, Gaea!”

Sick of heart at the task at hand, Pantheon drew the great blade and raised it above his head, intent on removing his Kings head in one fell motion. It was then that the Arch Sayer became aware of a stirring in the crowd, a dull hum at first that rose up, louder, into a voice of dissent. The people had begun to surge toward the podium, their faces angered, their voices as one in their disapproval, not only at the Arch Sayer, but also at her Mistress, the goddess Gaea. Tiberis’ words had been powerful and their conviction had found their way into the hearts and souls of his people. They believed their King and not just content to die for him and his cause, they were also prepared to kill any who would harm him.

Taken aback by what was occurring, Pantheon swung Tartarus about him, its’ mighty sweep sending the crowd scurrying back before it.

Infidels!” He screamed, “Have you lost your reason to the same madness that has taken your King!?”

The crowd paused a moment, their eyes transfixed by the sight before them. For what Pantheon could not see was the sight of the tattered and wounded King Tiberis rising behind him, his sword drawn and a great, bloodied smile carved across his face.

“Let those who brand others as mad,” He spat as he flashed his blade through the air and lopped off the sword hand of the Arch Sayer, “Be made aware that they live in a world of madness.”

Pantheon fell to his knees, blood flowing freely from his terrible wound, his face locked in agony. Tiberis stood above him, his face like steel, his body warped and twisted by its injuries.

“This road ends in Hell, Tiberis?” The Arch Sayer seethed, his skin growing pale and gaunt. “Gaea will not allow this.”

“Then we shall kill her, Pantheon.” Tiberis thrust his blade through the Arch Sayers’ neck, ending his life instantly, “And we shall bathe, free in the blood of her abdication.”

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NEXT - ASPECT: Wonder Woman Pt. 2

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