Post by Gaea on May 30, 2016 16:10:15 GMT -8
The Aetherborn
To be one of the Aetherborn is to know a deep yearning for meaning - before they are Celestials, before they are angels or divine, they are but simple presences, a creation of light and sound but not form; formless, meaningless, struggling to snatch reality from the jaws of fantasy. Dimly aware of their own imperfection, they naturally seek meaning, belief, the will by which to define both themselves and the world around them. Most never find it, consumed by others of their kind, summoned to Elibe as slaves before they can achieve sentience, or drawn in by a fully-formed Celestial's light, to bask eternally in that glow as they cast off all delusions of a reality of their own.
But - some do not.
To truly be one of the Aetherborn is not simply to exist, but to live, to find some meaning in existence that allows them to be something more than a mere presence. Single notes become a symphony, light becomes dazzling in its complexity, and that one vague desire slowly grows into something more, sprouting hopes and dreams and fears and beliefs like so many fruit. They do not - can not - leave behind who they were, what they are, but Celestials who reach an existence of their own find entirely new meaning in the questions of existence. Before, it was sufficient to truly be - but upon reaching that goal they find that the world is far more complex than it seemed originally, that simply existing is not the cure to all of life's questions that they had hoped.
Instead, it is but the prelude to a far richer tapestry of questions, each individually harder to answer than any before. What is the nature of existence? What is purpose? What is truth, life, justice, meaning, belief, conviction? There are as many answers as there are questions, and ten thousand more of each beside. Many of the Aetherborn find them overwhelming, seeking solace in the bonds of their kin - accepting the reality, the answers, of one with an overarching will who will lead and control them, a sort of willing slavery much like the relationship between a general and his shoulders, and it is from this tendency that their reputation as slaves to order grows. From the perspective of the Aetherborn, though, it is not weakness so much as the realization that their 'truth' lies with others, with order itself - trusting in the one above them to use them well, to paint the world with meaning using them as countless sparkling brushes; ten thousand minds but a single will.
But for many celestials, the answers to those questions are more personal, truths that they must discover on their own - whether by strength of will or simple stubbornness, they refuse to accept the truth of another, hunting deeper meaning and personal fulfillment in unique answers to each of their questions. Perhaps they believe meaning can only be found in combat, or that the answers to their questions cannot be found in the Aether at all, or that to exist is simply to question. These celestials are the ronin of the Aether, the wandering vagabonds and noble Valkyries and peerless warriors and stolid defenders who can be found in all reaches of their world and often descend on Elibe as well in hopes of answers or meaning.
Each searches for order in their own way - few celestials actually cultivate chaos - but with methods and beliefs so vastly different it is simple for those of Elibe to misunderstand that crucial aspect. To these beings, the question of existence and morality is more than a simple philosophical dream, but the underpinning of their entire existence.
Celestials do not age or die exactly as humans do - in fact they do not age at all, though their journey from nascence to individuality is somewhat analogous to childhood so most of those who have experience with Elibe understand the concept of childhood particularly well. Death as well is alien; those who die in the Aether are most commonly simply absorbed by their killer, one song added to a greater chorus, so there is little question of afterlife or eternal suffering, and thus surprisingly little fear of 'death' among those not tainted by Elibe. Elibe-born celestials find matters somewhat different - taking enough damage to discorporate or simply losing their anchor to Elibe drives their spirits back to the Aether, to slowly forge a new physical form after a period of weakness and the necessity of finding a new path. Taking fatal damage on Elibe, however, can kill them, bringing for them permanence and uncertainty of true death. While most celestials are aware of this, many struggle to understand the severity of it, almost completely unable to understand the concept unless they have found something worth truly dedicating themselves to.
Celestial Physiology
Unformed celestial spirits are naught but light and sound, apparitions and spirits barely held together by an overarching desire. Highly vulnerable to suggestion and being subsumed by stronger wills, with the natural propensity for order that the Aether embodies, they are easily controlled by Elibean summoners and developed Celestials alike, wielding a surprising amount of power without complaint - once the spark of individuality is extinguished they will never regain it. While not nearly as powerful as full-fledged Celestials, the ease of control makes them very popular among summoners as compared to their famously difficult developed kin.
Awakened Celestials, known as Aetherborn, Celestials, Angels, Archons, and the like, retain aspects of their original form - an incredibly strong propensity for Aether magic over all others, appearances generally fitting of their nature, and depending on the individual, many end up reflecting their original existence in some way; whether it is as simple as just sparkling or more in depth like encasing their original existence in suits of armor that bleed light rather than blood, words that thrum with a strange rhythm, or (most commonly) simply a tendency to emanate light in action, usually in combat - unless channeled through Aether magic it is generally harmless.
To be one of the Aetherborn is to know a deep yearning for meaning - before they are Celestials, before they are angels or divine, they are but simple presences, a creation of light and sound but not form; formless, meaningless, struggling to snatch reality from the jaws of fantasy. Dimly aware of their own imperfection, they naturally seek meaning, belief, the will by which to define both themselves and the world around them. Most never find it, consumed by others of their kind, summoned to Elibe as slaves before they can achieve sentience, or drawn in by a fully-formed Celestial's light, to bask eternally in that glow as they cast off all delusions of a reality of their own.
But - some do not.
To truly be one of the Aetherborn is not simply to exist, but to live, to find some meaning in existence that allows them to be something more than a mere presence. Single notes become a symphony, light becomes dazzling in its complexity, and that one vague desire slowly grows into something more, sprouting hopes and dreams and fears and beliefs like so many fruit. They do not - can not - leave behind who they were, what they are, but Celestials who reach an existence of their own find entirely new meaning in the questions of existence. Before, it was sufficient to truly be - but upon reaching that goal they find that the world is far more complex than it seemed originally, that simply existing is not the cure to all of life's questions that they had hoped.
Instead, it is but the prelude to a far richer tapestry of questions, each individually harder to answer than any before. What is the nature of existence? What is purpose? What is truth, life, justice, meaning, belief, conviction? There are as many answers as there are questions, and ten thousand more of each beside. Many of the Aetherborn find them overwhelming, seeking solace in the bonds of their kin - accepting the reality, the answers, of one with an overarching will who will lead and control them, a sort of willing slavery much like the relationship between a general and his shoulders, and it is from this tendency that their reputation as slaves to order grows. From the perspective of the Aetherborn, though, it is not weakness so much as the realization that their 'truth' lies with others, with order itself - trusting in the one above them to use them well, to paint the world with meaning using them as countless sparkling brushes; ten thousand minds but a single will.
But for many celestials, the answers to those questions are more personal, truths that they must discover on their own - whether by strength of will or simple stubbornness, they refuse to accept the truth of another, hunting deeper meaning and personal fulfillment in unique answers to each of their questions. Perhaps they believe meaning can only be found in combat, or that the answers to their questions cannot be found in the Aether at all, or that to exist is simply to question. These celestials are the ronin of the Aether, the wandering vagabonds and noble Valkyries and peerless warriors and stolid defenders who can be found in all reaches of their world and often descend on Elibe as well in hopes of answers or meaning.
Each searches for order in their own way - few celestials actually cultivate chaos - but with methods and beliefs so vastly different it is simple for those of Elibe to misunderstand that crucial aspect. To these beings, the question of existence and morality is more than a simple philosophical dream, but the underpinning of their entire existence.
Celestials do not age or die exactly as humans do - in fact they do not age at all, though their journey from nascence to individuality is somewhat analogous to childhood so most of those who have experience with Elibe understand the concept of childhood particularly well. Death as well is alien; those who die in the Aether are most commonly simply absorbed by their killer, one song added to a greater chorus, so there is little question of afterlife or eternal suffering, and thus surprisingly little fear of 'death' among those not tainted by Elibe. Elibe-born celestials find matters somewhat different - taking enough damage to discorporate or simply losing their anchor to Elibe drives their spirits back to the Aether, to slowly forge a new physical form after a period of weakness and the necessity of finding a new path. Taking fatal damage on Elibe, however, can kill them, bringing for them permanence and uncertainty of true death. While most celestials are aware of this, many struggle to understand the severity of it, almost completely unable to understand the concept unless they have found something worth truly dedicating themselves to.
Celestial Physiology
Unformed celestial spirits are naught but light and sound, apparitions and spirits barely held together by an overarching desire. Highly vulnerable to suggestion and being subsumed by stronger wills, with the natural propensity for order that the Aether embodies, they are easily controlled by Elibean summoners and developed Celestials alike, wielding a surprising amount of power without complaint - once the spark of individuality is extinguished they will never regain it. While not nearly as powerful as full-fledged Celestials, the ease of control makes them very popular among summoners as compared to their famously difficult developed kin.
Awakened Celestials, known as Aetherborn, Celestials, Angels, Archons, and the like, retain aspects of their original form - an incredibly strong propensity for Aether magic over all others, appearances generally fitting of their nature, and depending on the individual, many end up reflecting their original existence in some way; whether it is as simple as just sparkling or more in depth like encasing their original existence in suits of armor that bleed light rather than blood, words that thrum with a strange rhythm, or (most commonly) simply a tendency to emanate light in action, usually in combat - unless channeled through Aether magic it is generally harmless.
