Ashan 61, Arc 719
The peace you have sought in acquiring Agaperos was a lie. There will never be peace.But there was peace -- for now. Relatively speaking. And it was the job of others to maintain that peace, as Alistair united them all. In the last few trials, he had awoken Kleine from his slumber. It did not come easily, but natural to his Revelation was the ability to Renew others; to restore balance to their body and pull them back even from a state of near death as the Becomer had been subjected to. The rehabilitation process, however, was longer than he might have thought. Even his powers that others labeled as 'divine' and as a 'miracle' had limitations.
But he had access to them nonetheless. Alistair could describe it only in the way he understood; Renewal was reaching into the light, ambient and everywhere he looked, and washing over the individual with its eminence in a way that shined brightness on the darkness plaguing their form. It was not, perhaps, a return to balance in that sense... but darkness was a corruption rather than an inherent aspect of any one form.
With this new ability beneath his ever-expanding arcane purview, the mage had removed himself of all imperfections. Never before had he been in such good health. All things detrimental to his form had been washed away; even the faintest aspect of 'corruption' which he moved from the Creep to apply to all things detrimental. And within these changes, as Alistair stepped forward unto the oblivion of what he perceived to be his flaws, his sparks reshaped and reformed. The Insider, Chevalier, Purifier and Predator; he felt now that he understood them all wholly, and rather than a deranged network of parasitic compulsions he felt that they thrived in a sort of accord.
Alistair had closed shut the Beacon he'd left in Woodstock Hall, returning to his interior the small sliver of his soul that he had offered to it. So many things had changed, now, about the way he felt and utilized magic. He had become eminently more powerful as a result of this Revelation -- he could draw and activate Runes with only his mind, and they were second nature to him. They were immensely powerful, particularly to those he viewed as worthy of his blessing, himself included. Alistair stood, now, with an array of Runes across his body that he felt he could create and replicate unto many others at such minuscule cost. His cheeks were each adorned with chained Runes, one of Focus and one of Touch.
His arms had the chained runes of Speed and Strength, and his legs were the same. At his torso was a chained Rune of Endurance and Strength, powering his core and therefore the remainder of his muscles across his form.
And Alistair was like a God. He moved in a blur and when he ran, it was so quick that a blur could not even describe it. It was as if he were blinking, constantly, but capable of veering into turns and manipulating the trajectory of his movements. His feet that he had acquired mastery over, now adorning sharp claws, dug easily into the ground to control his traction.
Alistair climbed down the mountain from which he'd acquired Arsinalia within trills. And while his body manifested an overt claim to Godhood, the golden spear he wielded would offer to the Helians the ultimate sense of deification.
And so, no longer comfortable with waiting, Alistair returned to the lands where civilization reigned... with bare, clawed feet, clawed gauntlets of Malorite but colored a sandy beige and white-gold, and a translucent faint gold breastplate shimmering above his bare chest. Beneath it was the skirt of a tunic with a belt that wielded his many significant belongings, with Arsinalia equipped within the firm grip of his truly armored hands.
Reaching deeply into the spark of the Chevalier, Alistair knelt unto the ground and settled the butt of his spear against the soil. He placed his armored claws against the outer expanses of Miletos' flood plains and rubbed his palm into the sandy, moist surface. He understood, now, the Quality of Light like nothing else. It was innate to his being and he felt it everywhere he walked. He could no longer be shrouded, and even the moonlight around him seemed to radiate with a golden intensity.
The soil itself now did, much of the flood plains around his immediate vicinity glowing and shimmering golden-hued light through the air above the soil. A platform of Holy-like eminence was crafted around the mage, who stood at its core as he Galvanized the Quality into the soil.
Alistair stood before the walls of Miletos, as people slowly began to gather upon the walls and even through the great doors of the gates, and he issued one demand to the people he had already acquired:
"Bring me my kindred soul -- I am Arsinos, and I command it."
