Difference between revisions of "Sui's First Age Story"

Revision as of 09:48, 3 August 2015

The Harrying of The North

The Master Of All Arts turned away from the window in disgust.

"Do you think I haven't heard you plotting? You think you can defeat me? You think there is somewhere I could not find you? Do you forget that our hearts beat as one?" The rhetorical questions were directed at the panther curled by the fireside. "Do you not see the corruption amongst our students? Do you not see how lazy and foolish they are?"
"Not all can have your Perfect Exaltation, dear." It replied, scornfully. "They learn as well as they can. What you take for laziness and corruption is the natural state for Mortals, as well you know. And though our hearts have beaten as one for as long as I remember, you have never beaten me yet."
"You dare to challenge me? Do you not recall the devastation wrought by the last one to attempt to usurp me?"
"Calm down, dear. I know your work is hard, and nears completion, but do not let it cloud your mind to all other pursuits. You should relax. Come lie by the fire a while?" The Luna shimmered and took on human appearance. Clad in loose silks, the lithe, sleek muscles still betrayed its panther-like form.
"Do Not Tempt Me!" The Master of All Arts grabbed a pile of books and scrolls from his desk, and stormed out of the room. The Human/Panther stretched, and slipped back into its Relaxing By the Fireside Stance, passing this off as another of The Master's 'episodes'.

The Assembly Bell rang through the Illustrious Halls, and student and Master alike made haste to the Great Hall. It would not do to keep the Master of All Arts waiting.
Once all were in attendance, The Master rose from his throne, gathered the tomes and scrolls that represented his Great Work, The Final Art, and walked in silence towards the hearth that lit and warmed the Hall. Pausing only to glance up at the panther crouched on the balcony, he tipped his Most Precious Treasures into the fire. A gasp ran around the room.
"AND THAT IS WHY YOU ARE WEAK!" he bellowed "Have I not taught you Silence? To be fearless in the face of the unexpected? Did I not put Serenity at the forefront of your lessons?"
The room fell back into silence, abashed and stunned. Even the Masters threw each other sidelong glances, wondering what would come next.
"Have I not laboured long and hard at this Work? Have I not taught you the very nature of Creation? And how do you repay me? Why do you bring your petty squabbles? Why do you interrupt my work with your lowly concerns? Why must you constantly bother me with your miserable lives? NO MORE!"
A fist flickered at the nearest student, killing him cleanly as he stood. A foot took another, and The Master of All Arts began to Cleanse the room of Sin and Ill-Virtue. As the flames consumed the pages of his Greatest Collections of Wisdom, so he consumed the vice and villainy from the Temple. None could stand against The Master of All Arts, and before long, none stood at all.

"Was that really necessary, dear?" purred the panther.
"Would you rather see my Works fall into the hands of Evil? Would you stand by and watch it used to destroy, rather than build?"
"I just did"
The Master of All Arts tensed his muscles, ready to turn his Righteous Fury against his Beloved, but a breeze caught his cheek. The servants' door was open. Someone had escaped!
"I shall deal with you later, dear"
Turning on his heel, The Master of All Arts strode out of the hall, out of the Temple, and out into the City. Someone had escaped. Had taken the knowledge of The Final Art out of the Temple. They must be found!

It took many years for The Master of All Arts to track down the Traitor. Disguising himself as a lowly Master of One Art, he moved from town to town, city to city, seeking any whose Arts seemed unchallengeable. And with matchless skill, he would unleash his Unrivalled Solar Form upon them, knowing that only one who had learned his secret Glorious Unparalleled Defence would be able to survive such an attack.
After killing most of the Arts Masters of the North, and a great many of their students, he finally tracked down the Traitor, who stood firm in the face of The Master Of All Arts' attacks. Try as he might, The Master could not pierce the defences he had taught. Looking around for an advantage, he saw a shadow in the hedgerow, and too late recognised the lithe, supple movements it made. The panther leapt from where it had been observing, and with a quiet whisper of "You have failed Creation", tore past his parries, and ripped out the Heart that beat in the same rhythm as its own.
Falling to its knees and holding the heart up to The Silver Mistress, seeing the great scar than ran through Creation, and the irrevocable hole in the nature of The Arts, tears fell down its face, glinting gold in the mid-day sun.

TL;DR - Tired of his Students not being as Excellent and Perfect as Himself, he killed them all, and destroyed his work on the Final Art. One student escaped, and in an attempt to find the Traitor, many, many Art Masters were killed. When he did find the Traitor, he could not defeat him, and then his Betrothed Lunar killed him for his crimes. But this still left a near-irreparable hole in the state of Martial Arts, and The Final Form would never be found.

[[Category:First Age Story