The tree the giant sleeps under isn't guarded. Very little attention is paid to it as a result, and herein lay Iaurdagnire's tactic for keeping it safe from wanting; instilling in others the notion of ones singular possession, you create the desire to want. A simple mathematical choice derived from watching those of the instinctual nature, who do not show their pride in their belongings but do so much as to flaunt and guard with obsession. The Fortress is known for inhabiting areas just like everyone else, but never has he proclaimed them "his"; regardless of this, others know them due to him. He named Dandelion Hill, drew notice to his sanctuaries, and furthermore invited the forest to enjoy them with him. None are his, they are simply where he thrives; where he spends most of his life, rarely alone.


And that, exactly, is the problem. If he were a wondering vagabond perhaps they wouldn't find him so easily. They wouldn't know where to look, wouldn't be able to tell his scent from the bark of every tree. But they could. Deliciously pungent deposits of his bonfire taste were locked in every coil of his ferns, and his giant hooves had ploughed the ground from there to the hill.


You didn't need to be a predator to find him.


Lately every crevice of his home is infested with distrust. All that welcome him are dreams of smoke, the taste of salt, choking sulphur. Damp. Fractured bone. Fluid lungs. Hopelessness of escape, slow motion hands thrusting through water pounding on the doors of a dark blue tomb. Depth. Infinity. Breath choking in the velocity before hitting the bottom. Fumes. Toxic. Bloodshot eyes and their screams stripping the paint off their walls. Fire melting them down to nothing. Destruction, obliteration, annihilation; call it all what you will. But whenever Iaurdagnire closed his eyes, he saw the world tear itself apart. No... not itself; it is never their fault. All he could hear were pleads to Gods.

A higher power exists where something is needed to be blamed.

Scar-Giant stirs. White wolven eyes appear... his tongue gently churning the viscous magma seeping from his throat. As he walks he leaves a trail of black stone behind him and encircles the fires of Iaurdagnire's visions. Roars and growls seem to feed the flames in display as he thrusts the lava from his jaws; globules hiss as they touch the ground until the resulting rock is picked up by his aqueous movements once again. The lower body is cast in a haze of untouchable heat sourced from the ground, blinding yellow and ruby-red rivers fracture and crack the body as it moves. A threatening white tsunami crest rises with his head, jaws ready to to burn, to drown.







The bulls eyes are opened, glazed over in the throws of a night terror. He is not there; he cannot see. But within his dream, he is standing in the centre of a vast crumbling coal-black crater, the walls of which simply a thin line on the hazy horizon. The sky is afire, and Iaurdagnire is the last drop of deep ocean-blue facing an almighty extinguisher of life.
"I see you."
The wolf flicks his tongue up against his nose lapping up his molten fires. Every breath a swell of a sea's wave, and every snarl a gurgle of a bubbling sulphur pit.

Vessels constrict, and his scarred shoulder quivers. In his dream, he lunges, barking like a hell-hound,
"Your fangs will not mark my skin again."
"Ha!" Came an audible crack of splitting earth, "Is that a threat? Don't forgot your promise to the "Gods"... I need your help, remember?"
His voice was laden with malicious sarcasm. Every sharp tooth was unsheathed as he let loose a maniacal cackle that ended with a strike at the ground.
"Pathetic."
Iaurdagnire looked on as the wolf rounded him again, confused.
"You think the Gods created us, don't you?"
Time seemed to freeze in that moment. Iaurdagnire did not answer, it seemed a rhetorical one - was he wrong?
"We existed long before the Gods did. You've seen outside of their little divine forest - you think their command is over worlds beyond, too? Hm? Never questioned your own evolution, asked any of us why we bother to operate outside of your precious trees and that puddle you call a pond?"
His expression sank... No, he questioned none of it.
"I - we - were simply a change. We were a nameless phenomenon that brought change. It is the Gods that gave us a name, and that is the moment we existed to the world. In giving us a name, the Gods gave us purpose. We looked to them for fulfilment like any life will, and they gave us... you."

Click... click... click.
Rainwater from the wet leaves above drip steadily onto his sleeping body. The sound is loudest when they hit his antlers, and his eyes flicker with every fall. Thinking. Processing like a precision machine.

"Winter and Autumn don't need you any more. They don't want you. Being the annoying intelligent shit that you are, you made them see reason. That is a mistake. You see, I had my reason a long, long time ago, the very first time I saw you die in the jaws of an enemy. Natural law is what I abided by, and I gave the world what it needed to grow and took away what hindered it. Hm, just like you. You gave us what we needed for us to gain our intellect; who we are. But you know, our kindnesses will be forever overlooked."
"I do not give anything to you." The stag growls, trembling with hatred, "It is taken. That is not my kindness, it is your cruelty."
"And what do you know about cruelty, hm? Nothing but our wrath, exactly the same as everyone else. The forest you live in is the last sanctum the Gods can control, and the rest of the world? New creatures came from my nurturing, and the world went on without them. It is naïve for anyone to think that a Gods will is not finite; the forest is their only remaining sanctuary. But me? My brothers? We were always beyond their power, and the more we realized we had, the less we wanted."
"I do not understand..."
"It isn't enough. None of it. Now we have an understanding of the world, you think it is easy to sit back and continue as before? I gave them too much, and now it is my creation who burns me. Ignorance is truly bliss, servant. You were none the wiser until-"
"-Then why. Why was I made aware if it was so important? It makes no sense, you all could have had what you wanted. I could have remained in blissful ignorance to my purpose."
"Ah-ah-ah, there's that naughty word again. Purpose. None of us asked for it-"
"I did not ask for it."
"Wrong again, 'Fortress'. You go so far as to try and escape it. Tell me, who are your family? Your brother, sister, best friend... mate. Answer me honestly."
His heavy breathing is more noticeable. And in his body left in the real world, jaw and eyelids clench in discomfort. Eventually, he faces the wolf and answers.
"I have none."
Funnels of fire flare from where the rubble of Spring's paws land, and he prowls the ash covered ground stopping just inches from Iaurdagnire's face. Not so much as a flinch came from him.
"A-ha, and can you tell me why?"
There is another pause, and a heavy exhale into the hot acid breath emanating from the wolf.
"I vow to not let higher powers such as you have any control over me. I cannot let anyone else do the same; it is better this way, and less hurtful for them. Everyone in relation to me is an equal, and I find my strength in the favour of none over the other."
"You favour balance, Iaurdagnire. A rationality of what is wrong, and what is right. You take measures to ensure your own solitudinal existence. Insignificance. That is what you really want - you actually fear the grandeur of your duty to us."
"I fear nothing, and my duty so far has been a farce."
"Really. Then it's about time I show you my duty. It has been the same for millennia, but now my actions are worth more in the eyes of those who scuttle beneath me. I am prayed to. They beg to curry my favour in exchange for menial things that are of no matter. Has anyone ever pleaded to you to spare their life, 'Nire? No... Summer knew what was coming to him."

The bright white of Springs eyes force themselves upon the blacks of Iaurdagnire's. Walls of dusty grey stone rise around them perfectly flat, and the deafening drumming of something mechanical fills his ears. The smell of tar and crude oil fill his nostrils, then more walls - round this time, billowing white smoke - yellow contraptions scraping up the earth and rotating teeth feasting on everything green. A great net trawls the world, swallowing earth and beast within it. Pink faces blow their own smoke and fill black pockets with their own evergreen.

"I provide what is needed for creatures to live. And they take it away in the hopes of something better to be grown from destruction."
Springs dark malevolent voice sputters amidst the catastrophes. Iaurdagnire's eyes are wide with terror. His nightmares repeat themselves, but this time with a being behind it.
"I show them what real destruction is. What happens when my waters are poisoned, when my earth... when I am abused for my bounty... I take whatever they have stolen from me, back."

The tens upon thousands of shrill cries and drowning screams rise and fall with every disaster. Millions more will cry and beg for release, rescue, their life in exchange for another. But none are listened to, and their world churns and fractures without mercy. The innocent and the guilty are murdered as equals, in the name of damage control from a God.
It is over.

A forlorn voice utters in the now pitch black,
"... Why."
"What was that little mouse? Why? You know, they will only rebuild. There is no such thing as contentment, a race of life is never happy. They will always want more, and so do you. You want to relinquish responsibility, and that is not in your contract."
"I... I am not responsible for what you do."
"No. But you are responsible for making me aware, and giving me the ability to choose what I think needs to be reminded of how selfish an existence it lives. The world is well aware of my existence - I have no illusion of that - but no matter what they try to do to appease me, they have gone to the point of no return. There is no going back for them."

A silence falls between them, and the pair lock eyes in a defensive stare. Iaurdagnire is the first to speak,
"... You are right."
"What did you just say?"
"No matter how happy you are, you will always want more. Until... the point where you are no longer happy. To the point where there is something else keeping you where you are. You're at the point of no return, aren't you? Despite your power, you've never intended to kill me, have you. You don't want to be like the living - you've seen far too much. You can't leave your own personal vendetta. The Gods are who you blame for your purpose, not me."
"My purpose was taken away by the mere allocation of one. I am beyond their control, I am a God."
"Then what do you need of me, if you have it all under control? Do what you need to do so Summer can return - so I can speak to Velocity and put things back where they should be. And the bond between you and I will be herewith dissolved. The Gods gave me their word."
"We are on our own, Iaurdagnire. They lied to you - there is no going back. Now is the point of no return; we have gone to far, and the world ends with me."

His visions fracture and shatter, and the last he sees is a fold of rushing water sparking flames as it dives down into the very fabric of existence. Be gentle when he wakes, and cautious of his tormented gaze. Iaurdagnire will now spend his slumbers hunting a running wolf.