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Eternity
A concept of time no mortal can properly comprehend.
To live for an eternity meant to still exist even when thousands of years have passed. To still exist as nature changed the landscape, creating and destroying itself in the lasting cycle of life. To still exist as the stars in the distant sky fade and ignite anew.
The Great Deities had always known that they would exist for eternity. To represent their destined paths as the natural forces of the world turned on its axis. To create, guide and destroy, forces of power that no mortal could hope to go against lest they be reduced to nothing.
Avarice, Order, Obsession, Guidance, and Madness.
Once, in a time no one can recall, were destined to be Abundance, Resolution, Passion, Freedom, and Truth.
But time erodes even the purest of intentions. Absolute power corrupts absolutely. And as others grew discontent, the Deities responded in return to demand compliance. They rarely go outside of their kingdoms, separated to pursue what they most desired and what gave them a sense of purpose within this eternity of their lifetimes.
Avarice who hoards everything that would catch her fancy. Trapping it in a world of her own making, to enter the cycle of give and take that she has constructed. Where her followers scar themselves for her, where she scars herself in return, always wanting more as it can never be enough. A greed her followers give into as they give and take, give and take, give and take.
Order that secludes itself at the peak of the world. Where one enters, they never leave. Take on trials to prove their resolution or be struck down by the leader's sword to have your soul be trapped as a wandering spirit. A land where, once the trials are complete, the outside world is forgotten as you become part of the Citadel of Order. Part of the cog in the machine that holds back those same wandering spirits from breaching the Citadel's grand walls.
Obsession where one will never stop working, to never fall into temptations of comfort or get stuck in a routine. A Wonderland where there are endless possibilities, where the subjects may never stay in place but must continue to search for fixations. Impulsivity is rewarded, carefulness is weakness, where their leader is paranoid and quick to cut the heads of those who oppose her ideals.
Guidance, the one who left. The one who has forgotten how the world had once looked like but yet yearns to spread peace and freedom. Creating a Garden in the deepest parts of the world where lost souls can wander, those souls who have suffered outrageous fates by the cruel hands of Gods dictating their once lives. Where all souls are led to peace, either by moving on from the world of the living or remaining by Guidance's side. A Garden that would be destroyed should it ever be discovered by the Deities she once called friends.
Then… There is Madness.
A Kingdom floating in the sky, having grown large enough to block out sunlight for a day when it passes the people still clinging to life below. A day no land born wants to experience, a day of darkened sky when they are at risk of growing mad simply by looking up. If the King so wishes, multiple eyes can open under the floating Kingdom, shifting with hypnotic colours as the King gazes at the world below him. If one were to look up and lock onto one of those multiple eyes, they would have one small piece of the world's Truth whispered to them. Causing nightmares that would keep them up at night, Truths that would haunt their every waking moment.
And yet, looking upon those eyes of the King is one of the lesser fates that could befall mortals in the Deity of Madness's presence.
If one were to ascend up to his Kingdom, willing or not, they would see an almost empty kingdom. Where the denizens have become twisted beyond mortal recognition. Wandering aimlessly in a mockery of what could be called life as experiencing the Truth of the world warped their minds and bodies that are distinctively not themselves. Wandering aimlessly as husks of what they once were. And if they happened to see another who has not been exposed to the Truth, the seams that hold them together unravel as the eyes within them, mirroring that of their King's, gaze out from the shadows of their being to attack. Consume. Pull others into the darkest depths with them. Even if one were to escape the denizen's grasps, simply being close to Madness is enough to unravel and twist the minds of any lesser mortal.
Broken. Desolate. What had once been a prosperous kingdom was nothing more than a husk, much like the King himself.
A King who is crippled with boredom and loneliness. One who yearns for his departed friend yet knows that she will never return to his side. One who scours the land for any interests he can amuse himself with, either by sharing Truths that are not meant to be discovered or witnessing life-changing events between space and time. Only through watching other beings descend into insanity can the King feel some form of amusement. A feeling that flickers and dies too soon in his eternal existence.
Another day where the twin black sun shines upon the lands. Another day where the King sits on his crooked throne, eyes closed as his other eyes gaze at the world below him to find signs of life. Only to see twisted nature and wandering ghosts. No signs of true intelligent life, none that he can whisper Truths to.
How utterly dull…
His throne room has not taken in any willing audience for millennia, and any unwilling was still centuries long in the past. The Kingdoms that his dear friends had cultivated still held a cycle of life of their own. Yet to him, that cycle of prosperity was too dull to keep in his own Kingdom. Too stagnant, too tempting to watch those mortals become overwhelmed by their own minds to resist casting them down into the darkness. And now when he was searching for more life… He found none that he wished for.
Three physical eyes opened as Pure Vanilla cookie gazed past his thin veil of fabric over his empty throne room, two eyes from his first conception, one third eye on his forehead that he gained once he embraced the Truth. He couldn't remember what the throne room had looked like when he first created this kingdom, before he warped its design to be misaligned, chaotic, shifting warmth into cold, hard truth that he felt was only right to share with those around him.
If He was to see the Truth of the universe… Why should he allow others to be blissfully ignorant of it?
His Soul Jam gleamed in a bright blue light as he stood up from his throne, pulsing with power as the slit pupil within its clover shape flickered briefly. The infinite scroll shifted over his shoulders, words of the universe's Truths being scrawled over it so it could be shared with those he wished to amuse himself with. A multitude of swirling, shifting eyes covered the inside of his topmost robe, now looking around the empty room as Pure Vanilla reached his hand outwards to the side.
A sunflower with a long thorny stalk heeded his silent call. One with shifting eyes just like those under his cloak, moving like a snake up along the throne's armrest so it could reach up towards its master. As Pure Vanilla grabbed hold of its thorn covered stalk, the sunflower with eyes shifted into his trustworthy staff. One that has been with him for his entire existence. One that has never left or failed him.
The staff did not have a voice of its own… Only reactions to his inner thoughts, a reflection of himself and his deeper desires. Else, it could have counted as his one and only company within his kingdom. For mortals who gaze upon him quickly find their minds start to unravel. His attempts at concealing the Truth of his form only slowed down their descent into Madness. But it was a descent that was inevitable, leaving Pure Vanilla without any intelligent company soon after he gained it.
Pure Vanilla swiped with his staff over the space in front of him, one that tore past the veil of reality. A power he has gained from embracing the universe's Truth, how there were many different worlds and his own was only a small piece among the infinite space spanning across eternity. Worlds that he could see and enter through this window.
Will his eternity be longer than that of the universe? How dreadfully boring that would be. For what was a King without subjects? What was Madness and Truth without anyone to hear and feel its call? No, he did not wish for his Eternity to outlast that of the many universes. Total annihilation is not what would bring him any type of fulfilment, he realized this long ago. To share Truth has always been in his nature, since his first conception.
Making mortals see that Truth and crumble under its weight was much more fulfilling than trying to shelter them from it.
These alternate universes, how curious they could be. Curious, yet not amusing to him. Worlds where he could see himself and his old friends, how they once could be. Fools that cherished mortal lives as if they would stay forever, as if their assigned virtues meant something. How utterly dull and boring their lives were, all of them.
But if there was one good thing about these alternate universes were that they could be amusing. Especially concerning one specific individual as the universe's patterns were consistent… One that in most universes embraced Deceit, one that created spectacles of grandeur, one that was the other half of Pure Vanilla's whole in that world. One that enjoyed torment similarly to Madness himself.
Shadow Milk.
How grand it felt when he attempted to fool a Shadow Milk by pretending to be his Pure Vanilla. Only to be seen right through his disguise within seconds. Despite the many being unable to see the Truth that was himself, Shadow Milk had been able to see it. While not the one from his own universe, they had still been connected. The unease and horror from that talented jester when he realized who Pure Vanilla was, it still tasted delicious on his tongue.
That one had proven to be an excellent plaything, driven mad to the point that he had killed his universe's Truth because he was convinced it was Madness. The way the jester had looked at him with rage as he laughed over the other Pure Vanilla's corpse, how Deceit had slipped deeper into itself to be touched by Madness. He had ridden on that high for years afterwards up until his plaything broke completely.
It was with that hope to cure his boredom that Pure Vanilla was searching through the universes once more. To find something new, to find something that was exciting, a new plaything for him to enjoy. He had yet to find his own Shadow Milk in his own universe despite his many eyes and years drifting across the land. But one day, he would find him. One day, he would find that jester that could keep him satisfied.
After all, he had an eternity to search for it. And the time until then, he spent as he wished to cure his boredom.
This time as he was looking over the timelines, Pure Vanilla saw something new. The core Timeline, it had been split. Timekeeper Cookie, the guardian of the realm, had been meticulous in her defences to prevent Pure Vanilla from entering it. For the timeline that was the core to everything was one that everything else branched off of. Including his own.
And yet, now, it was split in half. A split created by something of untold power, one that was not quite a deity yet close to reaching that ascension. A power that, once Pure Vanilla reached for it, deliciously resonated with his own Soul Jam in a weak pull.
He couldn't help but settle a hand against his Soul Jam, a wide smile slowly stretching over his face. With how many versions he has met, he would recognize that pull anywhere… Oh, dear Shadow Milk, what wondrous chaos have you wrought for his enjoyment this time? And to the Core Timeline no less, to bring the entire space-time continuum to its knees under his influence. What webs of Deceit was being spun by one of his most entertaining play writes?
While Pure Vanilla could not enter, he could still see to a certain extent. He reached out for that universe's Deceit and found himself looking at a desolate wasteland. Brought to absolute chaos by gigantic beasts, beasts that were filled with corrupted souls. Devastation unlike any other universe Pure Vanilla has gazed into before, one that left the world devoid of all types of life. A world covered in ash.
And there was a Shadow Milk unlike any other counterpart Pure Vanilla had ever seen before. One that was brimming with power, one that was filled with multiple corrupted souls, one that seemed to be unaligned with his own body as his soul was not the lone host of it any longer. A body that has ascended into something greater, something that shifted between more forms than one. If the layers between them were any less, he would have been able to feel Shadow Milks emotions. Emotions that would no doubt ache with boredom and longing as he was watching the desolate land before him.
This one… This one was touched by Madness of a different form. Not Madness through grief, not Madness through Truth.
Madness by falling so deep into his own Deceit that he could not differentiate between the two.
Pure Vanilla wanted to meet him… desperately so. To gaze into those eyes, into his heart to see the Truth he carried. To see if he had finally, after searching for so long, found someone that could understand him and his desperation like no one else can.
And yet, the construction of the Core Timeline prevented him from doing so, even while it's split in two. He had finally found a new source of entertainment, legitimate interest, only to be prevented from reaching it because of the Time Keeper's rules.
But if he cannot enter the Core Timeline… Then, he simply need to give Shadow Milk a trail to his own, a reason to come search for him, to look beyond the world he was set to conquer.
Those souls… Yes, the unstable state of his body. Pure Vanilla could stabilize it, could soothe Shadow Milk's pain with his healing. One that Shadow Milk seem to require if the way he was grasping his chest was any indication. Yet, if Pure Vanilla was the one to reach out, the jester would no doubt be on guard. He always seemed to be prideful no matter the universe, and the Core Timeline would be no different.
No, he would need Shadow Milk to search for it himself… to reach his universe. To gaze at him so Pure Vanilla could address him directly. For now, he would instil a simple Truth, one that would be indistinguishable within the amalgamation of souls and voices. A Truth that Shadow Milk was falling apart, that he needed healing… Healing that was comparable to that of his other half.
Pure Vanilla felt his offered Truth seep in among the souls of the many. A Truth they started to echo and Pure Vanilla pulled away from his view before his meddling could be discovered. His heart beat loudly in anticipation, because the road of that Truth would lead that Shadow Milk to him. A Truth that he had no choice but to follow or risk crumbling.
His boredom was satiated in the form of anticipation. One that made Pure Vanilla sit back on his throne with a large smile, replaying that scene of a land covered in ash and the corrupted jester hovering above it in his mind. A hand covered his mouth as his smile grew even wider.
Just how sweet would that Shadow Milk's Madness be…? He could wait. He could always wait…
After all, Pure Vanilla had an eternity.