Before the Storm

Chapter 9: To Chase... Power

All the while Ingressus was sneaking Achillean through Hailstone on that fateful night, plots and schemes were being played out elsewhere, for in the Nether, Pythus had gotten on Vulcannus' last nerve. It was time for his reign to come to an end

But as meticulously as Vulcannus had planned, he had forgotten one variable, and it led him down ten years of pain and torment

Author's note: FLASHBACK TIME! we love the flashbacks - here, we jump back a bit to around the time of "Aftermath" chapter 16, for reference

so how did Vulcannus get into the position he is? well it wasn't simple, I'll say that much XD

also to note, this chapter illustration positively killed me. I've never drawn a Netheran before and it was tough and decidedly painful. I also decided to shake things up a bit and do a perspective piece. you'll see what I mean when you get there, but if not, I'll explain it at the end

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154 years had passed since the Great War. That was nothing to the Nether, for time simply does not pass – it was how Ingressus and Achillean had been able to bypass their ages when returning to the Overworld – but for Vulcannus, that had been long enough to sit by and watch his younger brother continue to usurp power from him every day since he had killed their father. Upon the retreat – of which Vulcannus had begged their father to commit to after seeing the Voltaris falter in their defences – they had barely made it back into the Nether before Pythus had exploded in the throne room, demanding all kinds of reasoning behind their hasty retreat from what could have been total conquest for the first time since the reign of the Enderknights.

Vulcannus remembered it well. He was mere feet from where it happened, and even to this day, 164 years on, he could still remember the look on Chronos' face as Pythus drove his Nether sword into their father, preaching about priorities and power and commitment. He remembered how Pythus showed no emotion at the killing of their father, and how he had been dead for minutes before he watched his younger brother snatch the crown from his head and seat himself on the Nether throne. He remembered it had only been a day before the rest of the realm bowed to him without question.

He wasn't irate about it because it was him that was to ascend to the Nether throne after Chronos, because having power was not an ultimate goal for the older Netheran. Instead, it was the psychotic manner with which Pythus took to regain control after the Great War. He became unhinged. Power-hungry. Determined. Vile. He would take his frustrations out on the closest thing to him, inanimate object or not, and he would find ways to make the non-compliant pay for their insolence. He wasn't even bothered about making them compliant to a point where they could be useful – valuable, even – to the rest of the Nether. He wanted vengeance only.

During that time, Vulcannus had been compliant with his younger brother. He did everything that was asked of him without question – not out of fear, but out of respect. If anyone had to have respect left in their family, it was him, and far be it from the older to allow morals and traditions to fall by the wayside because of the younger's detriment. Even when Tygren had first appeared in place of the expected Deathsinger to speak of traitorous dishonour and plans that remained unfollowed, and a shiver went down the Netheran's spine merely by looking at this Voltaris did Vulcannus oblige to every order.

But after 154 years of Pythus' reign of terror – nothing but a power-hungry child in a place of power – Vulcannus had given up trying. He had hoped that he could find someone to help him with his master plan to overthrow his brother and reclaim the crown as his own – someone who understood his feelings and felt the same, perhaps; but over that time, he could not find anyone willing, nor could he imagine someone in the Overworld willing to aid his plans for a cause they knew nothing about. He had survived long during Pythus' reign over the Nether on respect and honour, alone. Now, he had to abandon them altogether, and if it meant that he was the last one standing at the end of it, then so be it.