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Title: From the Darkest Night
Fandom: Exalted
Prompt: Cultivate
Warnings: none
Rating: PG
Summary: Iron Dust came from humble beginnings, and snuck his way back into a humble life. Well, as far as we know…
Iron Dust had never thought of himself as particularly strong-willed.
Life had sort of happened to him. He had been born to the village blacksmith and a sailor. He had learned his mother’s craft by watching her avidly throughout his youth, and his father’s craft in his teens when he was forced to take to the ocean like every young man before him. He had known his wife for as long as he could remember, growing up beside her, and he raised their daughter while his wife was the force to be reckoned with.
So, standing up to demons wasn’t something that anybody foresaw him doing, much less forcing said demons to bow to his might.
When he would mock his mild mannered self with harsh words, his wife used to tell him that he had merely yet to be tested.
Who could have guessed that her death and the cold-hearted murder of their daughter would be what it took to make him step forward and accept his fate as Chosen.
Iron Dust had gone from anonymity to infamy. One moment, he had been but a sprinkling of stardust in the night skin, and the next he was a blazing star shooting across the sky in a brilliant display of power. The ocean trembled with his wrath, and the demons never stood a chance as his golden Essence whipped around him like tidal waves.
When the demons had either fled in terror or been obliterated by his powers, he sat in the sand, hands in his lap for who knows how long, lost in his own mind. Over and over in his head he relived the death of his wife that he had been powerless to stop, and then the death of his daughter, their daughter.
Sorrow and pain engulfed him until he didn’t know how he was going to go on. How could he live without them in his life? He was nothing without his wife to keep him strong. What was he worth if he couldn’t even protect their child?
His sifu found him there, shivering in the night as the tide lapped at his legs, blood swirling around him in the water. With a heavy hand on his shoulder, his sifu pulled him to his feet and maneuvered him onto a boat and away from the scene of death and destruction.
He spoke for a long time before any of the words he said penetrated the daze Iron Dust had found himself in, and when they finally did, they made no sense to him.
“You were meant for greater things,” the then stranger was telling him. “And it is through you that we will find a way to save Creation. There is much work to be done, for our enemies will have seen your powers just as we saw them.”
“Who are you,” Iron Dust finally asked, his voice raw.
The man’s bright blue eyes turned to him, and a small smile dared to curve up the corners of his lips. “Finally with us, are you?” Iron Dust waited, and the man’s smile dropped away. “I am called Tallest Tree That the Eagle Nests In, and I will be your sifu. I will teach you the ways of our people, and I will teach you to control your Essence.”
Iron Dust bowed his head and looked once more at the hands laying limply in his lap that were still faintly glowing with that golden light. “What have I become?”
“Demon,” was the prompt reply. Iron Dust’s head snapped up as fear churned in his stomach. The man-Tallest Tree- smiled again. “At least that’s what they call us, but what do they know? We are the messengers of the gods, the viziers, if you will. We are the Sidereals, those that work with the threads of fate to ensure Creation remains safe from those that would destroy it all. And you are one of us.”
Iron Dust stared at him in confusion, a frown narrowing his eyes. “You said saving Creation.”
“I have looked into your future,” he said, bringing his hand up between them, wiggling his fingers and a bit of blue glow danced between them. “And I have conferred with others of our kind. We have to do something to protect you, for you have a mission that must be completed.” He rolled his eyes. “Fate of Creation lays with you and all that, you know how it goes.”
“I’m not-“
“You are. But first, we must get you trained. A year and a day is the standard length, which will be enough for now, but after, after we much see to it we cultivate a new reputation for you. Those that have seen your power at work must learn to either fear it-“
“Or forget it,” Iron Dust said, speaking over him the same way he had spoken over Iron Dust. Tallest Tree grinned at him.
“Yes, now you’re thinking like a Sidereal.”
Fandom: Exalted
Prompt: Cultivate
Warnings: none
Rating: PG
Summary: Iron Dust came from humble beginnings, and snuck his way back into a humble life. Well, as far as we know…
Iron Dust had never thought of himself as particularly strong-willed.
Life had sort of happened to him. He had been born to the village blacksmith and a sailor. He had learned his mother’s craft by watching her avidly throughout his youth, and his father’s craft in his teens when he was forced to take to the ocean like every young man before him. He had known his wife for as long as he could remember, growing up beside her, and he raised their daughter while his wife was the force to be reckoned with.
So, standing up to demons wasn’t something that anybody foresaw him doing, much less forcing said demons to bow to his might.
When he would mock his mild mannered self with harsh words, his wife used to tell him that he had merely yet to be tested.
Who could have guessed that her death and the cold-hearted murder of their daughter would be what it took to make him step forward and accept his fate as Chosen.
Iron Dust had gone from anonymity to infamy. One moment, he had been but a sprinkling of stardust in the night skin, and the next he was a blazing star shooting across the sky in a brilliant display of power. The ocean trembled with his wrath, and the demons never stood a chance as his golden Essence whipped around him like tidal waves.
When the demons had either fled in terror or been obliterated by his powers, he sat in the sand, hands in his lap for who knows how long, lost in his own mind. Over and over in his head he relived the death of his wife that he had been powerless to stop, and then the death of his daughter, their daughter.
Sorrow and pain engulfed him until he didn’t know how he was going to go on. How could he live without them in his life? He was nothing without his wife to keep him strong. What was he worth if he couldn’t even protect their child?
His sifu found him there, shivering in the night as the tide lapped at his legs, blood swirling around him in the water. With a heavy hand on his shoulder, his sifu pulled him to his feet and maneuvered him onto a boat and away from the scene of death and destruction.
He spoke for a long time before any of the words he said penetrated the daze Iron Dust had found himself in, and when they finally did, they made no sense to him.
“You were meant for greater things,” the then stranger was telling him. “And it is through you that we will find a way to save Creation. There is much work to be done, for our enemies will have seen your powers just as we saw them.”
“Who are you,” Iron Dust finally asked, his voice raw.
The man’s bright blue eyes turned to him, and a small smile dared to curve up the corners of his lips. “Finally with us, are you?” Iron Dust waited, and the man’s smile dropped away. “I am called Tallest Tree That the Eagle Nests In, and I will be your sifu. I will teach you the ways of our people, and I will teach you to control your Essence.”
Iron Dust bowed his head and looked once more at the hands laying limply in his lap that were still faintly glowing with that golden light. “What have I become?”
“Demon,” was the prompt reply. Iron Dust’s head snapped up as fear churned in his stomach. The man-Tallest Tree- smiled again. “At least that’s what they call us, but what do they know? We are the messengers of the gods, the viziers, if you will. We are the Sidereals, those that work with the threads of fate to ensure Creation remains safe from those that would destroy it all. And you are one of us.”
Iron Dust stared at him in confusion, a frown narrowing his eyes. “You said saving Creation.”
“I have looked into your future,” he said, bringing his hand up between them, wiggling his fingers and a bit of blue glow danced between them. “And I have conferred with others of our kind. We have to do something to protect you, for you have a mission that must be completed.” He rolled his eyes. “Fate of Creation lays with you and all that, you know how it goes.”
“I’m not-“
“You are. But first, we must get you trained. A year and a day is the standard length, which will be enough for now, but after, after we much see to it we cultivate a new reputation for you. Those that have seen your power at work must learn to either fear it-“
“Or forget it,” Iron Dust said, speaking over him the same way he had spoken over Iron Dust. Tallest Tree grinned at him.
“Yes, now you’re thinking like a Sidereal.”