The Vaskeiran Diaries

Mythic Age

I next spoke with Voloxern, the Executioner. After my trip to The Outer, I ventured to the Universal Council's headquarters, which then directed me to The Assembly. The Assembly member, Lillian, took me and supervised my meeting with the caged Voloxern.

I asked her simply if any of the rumours were true. Almost immediately, seeming fed up with me, she shook her head and scoffed, 'Which ones?' I then clarified.. Once understanding what I meant, she nodded approvingly "They're false. Every one of them that you mentioned. I did try to intercept my brother, Tystaka. But I never saw him, I believe some of The Outer's own rebels, those who wanted the war, decided to take him. But I had no part in his disappearance. The Rebels, under the premise that they would leave me alone in my own little sector of their 'Vaskeira', asked my assistance as such a task had never been done before. Giving them those terms, I agreed" I decided to pry a bit more and asked for more information about what happened. "Well, once they had assembled multiple physical planes in different verses, they had this Assembly, the one that has now entrapped me, and they ratted to their de facto leader at the time, Lanthelon, and he had me captured and put here. Been here ever since."

I wondered about her creation, Animoria. To which, she answered "Animoria has been my creation for aeons. I created it as a sort of pocket dimension in Astral. But I also created it in the physical world. I took inspiration from what the Rebels were making, four-legged creatures based on the weapons they destroyed my siblings with. A crude and cruel reminder. I embraced this grim reminder of loss and I began making hybrids of the creatures they used to destroy my family with and the 'humans' that they made as a new beginning. A jab at them? Oh most certainly. But I don't believe it was undeserved" Digging deeper into that subject, I prodded, asking why she believed it was deserved.

Scoffing, as if she had never heard something so outrageous, as if I had offended her with my question, she wore a smile that conveyed a sense of 'this man really has no idea' or something akin to 'the audacity of this person'. Tonguing the inner side of her teeth, she gave a chuckle and spoke, "What they did to deserve my, honestly mild jab? Think about it, they blamed me for my big brother's death, murdered my other siblings, and now? What adds to the 'deserved it' factor? I'm now locked in a pocket dimension for something I never did, they went back on our deal. The only time I get to visit my haven is through soul projection into a sacred tree that I cobbled together before they took me to this godforsaken hell hole." Hearing it out like that. Hearing it put like that, I remember readjusting as I felt an odd pain in my upper forehead, empathising only with a fragment of the pain she felt.. Even for an Elder, I could hear the pain. I watched her take a breath as the pain melted away, the throbbing in my forehead stopping. Voloxern's long green hair parted as she took the black metallic mask off, revealing a soft, feminine face with glowing green eyes. Her skin was much paler than mine and it looked greyish, maybe with a blue and green undertone to it.

Blinking a few times, looking slightly off to the side, hands settled on the table in front of us, I could see an air of reflection, maybe even contemplation on the ageless entity's face. Honestly, her appearance was mesmerising and beautiful. It was somewhat unusual conversing with a woman who appeared younger than me, yet had experienced both more severe hardships and greater triumphs than I could even fathom achieving in my own lifetime. I suppose that's one of the perks of being immortal. Perks of being an immortal I suppose. "Jerame" I was surprised that she would address me. "What are you writing about me? How in-depth are you going with your little...Investigation?" She set her eyes on my diary, indicating with her pointer finger that she wanted to take a look. I obliged and slid the book to her. "You write this like a diary?" I nodded as she flicked through the aged pages. "I suppose it's the easiest manner to write in?" I'd never had any of the people I spoke to ask about me. A pleasant development to be sure. I watched her eyes skim the pages, thinking about how I would write this scene from memory, or if I'd have to bullshit the whole thing to get a rough estimation of this interaction. "You have pretty handwriting," she remarked, sliding the book back to me.