First Light [Theo]

And so the tale of Ikana's life was told. It was one he'd never heard before, one she never shared before. In that time, there was nothing to do but to wait out for the right time to strike against their misbegotten brothers and sisters. The dark skinned woman left long before such events took place, and if Theocelese had his say....none of the others would have been involved either. He never said the following, other than in rare circumstances, but all that he chose to do, and the decisions made, it was all done so others would not have to. The burden, the weight, the guilt, all of it. It would rest on his shoulders, and his alone, and he'd never wish it upon those he called family. That way, those that followed him could have the right to point their fingers outwards and say "Theocelese made this decision, not me", and thus, any blame or punishment could be directed elsewhere. There would never be the desire to see others turn into the very thing he was fast returning to. Ikana, least of all, as she was the last fractured piece of a memory, a haunting shade, that came to life to him again. Above all others, he'd covet her safety and wholeness like some ancient, sacred artifact.



There came to be some commonality between the two. Both were from an old era where the gods happened to be prevalent. Despite the medicinal remedies keeping his ticking time bomb of a temper from exploding, the dulled, golden eyes came to life in a weak fashion. Like they were back in the torture chamber, Ikana would bear witness to some intense madness or hatred at the mention of 'gods'. His hands turned briefly into fists, eliciting several pops and cracks from each appendage. Such a look made not necessarily at her, but the part of her story told, would come to be understood soon enough. One thing was for sure, there was someone, something, or a great deal of either or he wished harm upon.



Silence lingered from the man, and now he made no action to hide the bottle within his pocket. Even thinking about what he was going to do in due time made his vision blurry, a reddened haze settling across his field of vision. Half of the remaining contents were poured into his mouth, and like before, he ground the pills down before swallowing them. With closed eyes, Theocelese let the tension clear from his entire body. Surfaced veins now hid beneath his bronze, and abused skin, and when his eyes opened, there was an obvious drug-induced serenity. A faux-aura of calm only capable by whatever the Hell he was taking, but whatever that collection of pills happened to be, it was working. Theocelese chuckled suddenly, letting the pill bottle rest on the window sill as he lit up a cigarette. This one, he'd come to smoke far more slowly than the others.



"I know such a story. Funny isn't that how it led you here, funny is that the Lion and Gazelle should be speaking right now." There was no confusion as to who was who in this situation. Hell, with his long his hair and beard had grown, he did have the mane of a great beast. A single hand rose and fell against his knee repeatedly as he let out a hearty laugh. "I've been called a Lion for many years...but I did not arrive in this world as such. No...I was something your grandmother would speak of to get you to go to bed. Baba Yaga, Babulous, Babau, I'uomo Nero, I was not just the bogieman. I was the thing that showed up to fucking murder the creature plaguing you, before taking your life myself. The night is my sanctum, the nocturne my hours of domination. In Hueco Mundo, there is nothing that can stop me." He rose the cigarette wielding arm with dual purpose, to both inspect to see if his arm was really human, and make a point. "Do not forget your past, or try to hide it." If there was one thing anyone would be able to remember about Theocelese, it was the way he spoke. It wasn't the thick accent, or the soothingly deep voice, but it was manner in which he went about talking. Never could he give a simple yes, or no, or even just directly answer a question.



"I recall my previous life, and the origin life of my soul. I'm unsure if there was much, if anything in between. Such knowledge has not been granted to me." He started, but was unsure where exactly to begin. Perhaps to recall his most recent life as a human was the best place, Theocelese reckoned.

"Not more than a few decades ago I was a mortal man in the modern world. There is nothing about that life that I do not know. I was...married." He paused suddenly, cigarette coming to rest in between his lips to run his hands together in almost the exact fashion Ikana had run a hand across her throat. Though the major points of contact rested on finger where his wedding band had recently come off. The difference in coloration still persisted, as if he'd only taken it off some days prior. "Had a family. Ran a successful business, one legal through and through, one, less so. We left home due to circumstances that resulted in the start of events that are soon to close." Theocelese cleared his throat, perturbed by something he hadn't quite let slip just yet. The trailing smoke that rose above his head was sucked in with a strong pull, and the stick found itself resting inside the ashtray with its spent brethren.



"The other life I remember was from a time when men still fought with sword and spear and shield. Kings, both benevolent and not, ruled. More than just man could be found, if you looked hard enough, and much like your own past, the gods were very much an important part of our life then. I was a soldier back then--more than that, a prince, and a leader of my own warband that was widely feared and respected. I was conceived from both human and god, and in that time as you might be thinking now, yes, I was what you would consider to be a demi-god." Theocelese went silence, eyes stuck to the floor, but scanning them. It was hard to tell whether he was debating how much to spill out, or whether he was remembering it all. He sighed quietly, a look of irritation coming forth with furrowed brows and a slight scowl. His fingers picked up the cigarette, and he began the process of speaking again. "I fought in one of the most read about wars. North, and to the east from your probable homelands, bordering the Aegean. It was there that I, and I only dictated my only fate.



Much like you, the gods came into play in our own little war. I was not there for honor, but glory. And with full knowledge from my mother that if I decided to pick up arms, I would not come home again. What I truly wanted, as I told one particularly unlucky priestess, was what all men wanted. I wanted it more. To be known for the rest of time. I'm no different then as I am now. The mortal realm may not know the name I bear now, but in this afterlife there isn't one well-informed and intelligent Shinigami, Hollow, Arrancar, Vizard or Quincy who do not know my name. My demise did not come from some traitorous sacrifice, but guided by a god. A single arrow." He mimicked the noise of that single arrow launched from its resting place on the bow chillingly perfect. He'd even gone as far as to make the motion as well.



I pissed off that god. The protector of that land, and it was him who aided the man to originally kill me. Our forces eventually took the city, sacked it, and were so thorough in its destruction they can barely find it to this day. But all of that was after my pyre was lit." The intentional censuring of names was obvious. Even a drugged out person would have slipped something out by now, and to call Theocelese drugged out was being nice. Maybe if Ikana pried a bit harder, he'd let up, or at least, return to being cryptic. Not giving her the obvious answer, but leaving enough bread crumbs that, in the event the woman looked into the right pages, she'd know exactly who he was.



"That god has toyed with my soul for over three thousand years, Ikana. In his revenge, he wronged his brothers and sisters. All for one desecrated statue. And it is this god who has orchestrated this." His hands brushed down his form, as if showing off a fancy new three-piece suit. "Cursed and blessed at birth. The sun was to cripple me, but another, my mother of Darkness, lessened the effects...and I grew accustomed to feeling normal at night. Well..." Theocelese paused, taking a drag off of the cigarette, face turning outwards to Hueco Mundo's eternal night sky with a somber grin. "Actually feeling alive, is a better way to put it." The smoke blew out the window, dissipating into the air. He continued to stare outwards, as if for searching something.



"He took my wife from me after we moved to Karakura. Not immediately, but some years after. Three of his pawns, three enemies from my past. He tried once, and was thwarted. The second and third times, he succeeded. Once when she was a mortal, once as an Arrancar. It was some time after we had our falling out when I found her, and I knew this Adjuchas to be her because she spoke to me in our native tongues, and called me by my mortal name. Seran and I toiled day and night to try and reverse the effects of a degenerating mind but could find nothing. When I'd come to accept she'd be nothing more than a...simple creature, those three came again. And they took her from me.



So in a fit of rage, I stormed off to find her, and came across the very city my countrymen destroyed those so many years ago. I killed a fellow demi-god. A man I could call cousin, I suppose. And then? I was forced to kill my wife. I'd nearly died myself, but the very gods I have, as of late, come to grow so dependent on, saved me. Made me whole again, told me who I was and set me on the start of this quest of vengeance to kill one of their own. Not only did I learn who I was, who I really am, who I try not to be most of the time, but I grew in power. There is a secondary stage to the powers we have sealed away, you know..." One last drag from the cigarette, and he smothered it with the others in the ashtray. Still, his golden gaze lingered out to the ivory desert just beyond the pane of glass.



"She's alive. My true enemy holds her essence captive, and now I've reached the final act of this tormenting play. When the time is right, I will leave here again, and I will kill a god. I will devour his soul, and the injustices many others have suffered just by...being involved with me, shall be addressed. I cannot even imagine what it must feel like to be punished so...so...insanely, all because of one man's love for you." There was silence once more. Theocelese spoke all that he did, not to just answer the question asked of him, but because he did promise to tell her of himself. Granted, he wasn't clear in many regards but there was now an answer for many things. Maybe it just wasn't the Quincy arriving and the many they butchered for the reason why he'd gone to such great lengths to see them suffer. Maybe he was planning for someone else. From the stillness in his body language, he could have passed for a corpse. There was more he wished to speak, but as before, even in his addled mind, was able to pick a part and decide on how he would say, what would be said.



"Would you call me king?" He asked suddenly, almost as if he was disinterested from even hearing the answer. "My great grand mother, the one from my most previous life...she had the power of insight. Could see things before they happened, and on her deathbed, she called me king of the sands. I thought it was the dementia attacking her brain." A hand rose up, and finally, Theocelese turned to face Ikana. "And then...she grabbed me with the strength an old, dying woman shouldn't have, and she pulled me in closer, and she whispered to me these words with a hatred I did not know she could have ever possessed...she said to me, 'Kousti, the deities loom nearer. They'll find you'. The cards have been laid, the die cast, the blade drawn, trigger pulled. There are a thousand and more ways to say my fate has been told to me...but do I just accept it, Ikana? Or do I just...keep fighting it?" His arm lowered, and his form slumped now. Theocelese's eyes dropped to the floor again, scanning them as they did before, but this time, not to find the right words to say, but contemplating. As to what the man thought of...well that answer was the only thing plainly given.



He knew of the shattered tribes well below Hueco Mundo, of the old and terrible power that ruled over them. If he were to venture down there, destroy that power, would those thousands upon thousands of beings drop to their knees to him? The Alliance's motto was 'No Kings, Only Shields'. It was an oath they all took, to prevent any growth of power that in turn, spurned madness. And what of Apollo's rabble? Would they also sway their allegiance to the one who ended the life of their master? "...If you ever call me such a thing...swear to me here and now you will not let me become the thing I hate the most..."

The ball was now in the African Princess' court. Her words, and her words alone on this final subject, would decide much of the future to come.