Inside the Great Messiah, the world was a peaceful chill. A constant sun emanating from those who came before. In the weeks after the Blooming Messiah flowered, those who's conscious was bright enough to become one emerged from the bright rays. The third of which was Malkith, spawning from the shredding light. Fay beyond the two before him, he was colloquially known as "The Emperor". An affectionate title, from the two before him that had claimed rulership of the Great Messiah's inside. The title came from the fact that his size was staggering to the other two. The few who came afterwards agreed with the title, accepting that the creature that stood before them was- in fact- their emperor. The difference between the three showed the true power of the Great Messiah, it's warm, tender embrace simply showing naught but love and acceptance. The first was a more slender, 7 armed, winged being who proved effective at most things. The second was another slender, two armed, multi-winged being. This lead the first two believing that they were what the Messiah had envisioned, that was until Malkith spawned. Malkith, by all definitions of current expectations was a malformed atrocity, yet, it's what the Messiah envisioned. The massive beast was by all means whole and just, however strange it may look. The beast was a conglomerate of branches, tufts of fur, eyes, and amorphous arms. Until Malkith spawned, the two before him had not spoken, not let out a sound of any kind. Malkith broke the silence, whistling towards the two. The two had no idea how to respond, opting to show gestures back. Malkith noticed that unlike him, their mouths were sewn shut. He latched a hand onto the second one's face, pulling rather gently for his size. At first, the second was worried, until the mouth had been unobstructed, leading to the discovery of their own language. The first had chosen silence, gesturing to Malkith not to perform another offbeat form of vivisection. Malkith agreed, stepping back and beginning to try and speak. When the two tried to communicate, however, they noticed a rather bizarre artifact: Their tongues were full of holes. Holes of all shapes and sizes, leading to several whistling sounds alongside botched vowels. They later embraced this, adopting the name ScarTongue. Some time later, when more and more had come to from incandescent light, they began building what could be considered ,,homes'' for each-other. During the era of great piece, weeks before the Bishop was born, the First Two went into solitary, keen observance of their world. Malkith, however, stayed among those that were now considered ,,commonfolk''. Among them, he led to those being called Empyreans, having clearly been blessed by the Great Messiah itself. Due to his size, he was seen as the great protector. In time, generations were taught he was the leader, the true emperor, disregarding the First Two. The First Two- mildly confused- accepted the fact he was seen as the king, as it helped them stay quiet until needed otherwise. When the Bishop left the tree, Malkith was the first of which to challenge him. After a long deliberation that night with the Bishop, he struck with such force the wall near the blow had crumbled into sap. Opting to not use sorcery was in his best interest, trying to scare the Bishop as to not alert the First Two to something unnecessary. This proved fatal, however. A fight ensued in the Bishop's house that night. Due to his size, Malkith was ill-fated to fight in such a small enviroment. Vice Versa, the Bishop was slender and quick with a blade. Malkith gained a scar down his chest, which he quickly covered with other branches. The Bishop had now more reason than ever to challenge those with standard ideals, issuing a fire inside him as he had never had before. When Malkith confronted the First Two about this blunder on his behalf, they showed expression, expression which viewed Malkith in the light of avarice. Malkith, utterly defeated by what he had done, closed himself off to the rest of the Empyreans, opting for a quiet retreat instead of a grand exit. Now bleeding sap, depressed by that which he'd done, he sealed himself inside a small chamber with just enough room for air to filter through. Watching his people fall into disarray, for their might emperor had failed them. They all assumed he had been struck down, mortally wounded and too much of a coward to fight to death. In the time after Luwarin left, The schools taught how the emperor had failed, his longstanding reputation ruined and he too mired in sadness to try and fix it. This changed when a certain grey hatred one day struck his heart.
While Luwarin awaited his sentencing, Iron rested gently in the sombre bliss of the ashen sky. Nearly a week had passed since the battle atop the bridge, the remnants still decaying in the wind, occasionally passing the kingdom. Iron had thousands of thoughts running through his head. On one hand, treachery was unforgivable, especially with such underhanded tactics... Yet, the other hand revealed someone pragmatic, willing to crack new mold. The cavity of forgiveness can only run so deep. Luwarin sat in squalor among the other prisoners, that being outlaws who tried to ambush guards of Iron's. They took a certain kind of disdain to Luwarin's royal status, constantly slinging muck and insult towards him. Luwarin doubted all that he knew was true: "Was I ever right?" "Were they truly in the wrong". This spearheaded when two tridents prodded him with favor, one stabbing his arm. Iron had made up his mind, casting Luwarin out of the kingdom, sparing his now fully tarnished life- on one condition. Iron explained in great detail that his reasoning isn't because he took offense to those actions which seemed wholly unjust in other's eyes. His reasoning was because he would like to gain favor with the Empyreans and learn their culture, the lover he is. As they marched up to Iron's quarters to share one last toast to their once now removed friendship. They stood, basking in the ardent glow of the ash, it creating quite the spectacle for such an occasion. This, however, only served to display the odious true extension of betrayal. As the stood, talking, reminiscing on times surely long past, the Great Messiah burst into flames. A perfectly ghastly sight to those who knew what it had stopped before. Iron began panicking, as did Luwarin. Iron evoked the last time a great fire burned into his mind. Meanwhile, Luwarin- for how little he cared about the other Empyreans- began panicking as well, seeing his home burn down. Iron casted great ramps of metal unto the Great Messiah's entrance. They ascended the casts, feverishly drawing their blades. Nearing the top, out came Newari, tumbling down the casts. Seemingly wounded and now tumbling a hundred feet downward, Luwarin was torn. He could save his would-be bride- or he could potentially save his only friend. Luwarin pondered for all but a second, displaying pure friendship to Iron, even past his removal. As they breached the veil of now running sap, Luwarin quickly explained how the world worked, it's time being wildly different. Iron cared not for explanation from the man who now he thought to be a lawless vagrant. The two witnessed utter silence, however. Once entering, no one was to be found. The only person they encountered was Arsirian, whom Iron couldn't begin to understand. Through the whistling, Iron deciphered that they wanted to be left alone, opting for words over more violence. Iron glanced around at this prosperous kingdom, amazed at it's thorough architecture and it's mixed, varied, and divine caliber. He witnessed the burning sun above those who were born there, it's reaching strands of light amazing Iron. Arsirian clearly took interest in this newfound interest shown from Iron. Luwarin was to be casted out of the Messiah at once, until his skill proved valuable for once. Arsirian- and Iron- ordered Luwarin to translate what was said by Arsirian. The painful story was told in sheer detail by Arsirian, insulting Iron's ears with the sacrilege he was hearing. From the motions and chattering Arsirian made while telling the story, it was clear that it enjoyed ripping Luwarin to shreds, only to have him say it back. Iron said not, but had noticed an eye peering from inside the Messiah's walls, which wouldn't be odd save for the fact these folk had no traditional eyes. After the story was told, the utter horror of Luwarin's Betrayal accosting Iron's now tired ears, they left. Solitary and now alone, they gazed into the now clearing ash. Iron stood at the gates of the Messiah for some time, while Luwarin instantly ran downwards to Newari. When he arrived at the bottom, he fell to his knees. A single, blooming, glowing mushroom, on top a vaguely Empyrean shaped sapling.