When Elise died, the eclipsed sun regained its color and began to warm the bones of the small critters who survived the night. Its rise heralded both the new day and the end of the nightmare for all the forest animals.
As the sun rose, the dawning orange and yellow on the horizon juxtaposed the vivacious blue in the sky and represented nature's benevolence that helped the forest forget the artificial malevolence of the shadows.
And as it climbed higher into the sky, the orange turned to radiant gold that nurtured the trees and its dependent critters. It gave nature precious energy to sustain itself and replace what it lost in the dark.
The sun was relief; it was aid; it was health; it was life itself.
But, to Farron, the sunrise was a burning fire. The harsh red beat down on him and reminded him of the fires. It reminded him of both the fire he allowed to kill his coworkers and the blaze Rolan kept him in. But, above all, it reminded him of the ring of fire at the entrance to the cave he lost Elise in.
The sun mocked him and the blood he shed. It mocked his effort. It mocked what little value he began to believe he had.
From Rolan's grasp, he cried and cried as he crumbled under the sun's whip. He crumbled to nothing as he imagined himself fading away to ash, never to be reformed by Life again. But Life was relentless and cruel and would never allow him to die.
As the forest slowly faded away to desert below them, the sun rose into the sky and became a cold, silver medallion. The sun hurt him before, but now, it was indifferent. It was indifferent to his pain and his loss.
To the animals, the sun was life, but to Farron, the sun was Life. To the animals, it was benevolent, graceful, and beautiful, but to Farron, it was simultaneously cruel, indifferent, and sadistic.
With the silver in the sky, the foundation for Farron's Apollo began to form. Part of him was becoming like the sun in the sky, cold, numb, and indifferent.
Farron's tears had dried before the distant sun was halfway across the sky, and soon after his tears dried, they arrived outside a massive city, the capital of the Zarath province. When they landed, Rolan placed his hand on Farron's back and guided him through guarded gates.
The guards would have normally moved to intervene when somebody tried to use this entrance, which led directly to the Serpent's palace, but when they saw that it was two High Leviathans and a Noble Leviathan, none of them bothered, particularly because Lao wore the stygian armor commonly gifted to members of Nergal-Ushezib's court, marking him as an ally.
After they passed through the gates, Farron was slowly guided through busy, dusty streets filled with bustling leviathans attending to their regular business. He was within one of the seven hearts of Babylon, his enemy, but he only allowed himself to be controlled. Grief paralyzed him.
When they arrived at the palace, he was led through massive stone halls with distant ceilings supported by gold-capped marble pillars until they reached an audience chamber where a warrior with a prodigious build sat, attending to regular matters brought to him by ministers of various heights, builds, colors, accents, and more.
His massive body rested on the back of a black marble throne, through which ran lines of gold and silver. He was over fifteen feet (4.57 m) tall and weighed well over 1100 pounds (~500 kg), most of which was composed of muscle.
The rest of his weight came from his dense bones and thick gray scales that resembled large stones but were far harder. He was designed for combat, but he wasn't designed for war by anybody else. He built himself.
Every waking moment he could spare was spent in training, research, and discovery of how to possess greater lethality. Among all the serpents, he was the most brazen and the one you hoped to meet on the battlefield the least, though that was not to say that he was the most dangerous.
When he saw Lao approach, he commanded his aide, "Ger, get them out of here. We're done for now. Return with them in twenty minutes." After they had all filed out, Nergal-Ushezib asked, "Lao, I see that you've returned, but it seems like one of you is missing and you have a titche in his place. Why?"
Lao kneeled, and the other two serpents did so as well. Farron remained oblivious, absorbed in his thoughts. The others ignored him.
"Oh, great Serpent, I deeply regret to inform you that Malik has perished in the event. The human killed him. In recompense, we have brought him as a replacement. He is also a lord, and I believe you'll find his gift to be more valuable than that of the one he killed."
"More valuable? Malik allowed me to find almost any information from prisoners. He was extremely useful in torture and subterfuge. What can the titche do for me that he couldn't, and how could he kill him? For a human to kill a leviathan, particularly a High Leviathan, is… rare.."
"His gift has little utility value to us, but he can be nurtured into a far greater warrior than Malik. He is immortal. Furthermore, he killed Malik by using magic without the use of an aid. He did so swiftly by using what I believe to be ES12 energy as a garotte and SS14 energy to control it."
"Immortality and magic without an aid?" The second was not an impressive feat by itself, but if the talent of the caster exceeded a certain level, then they were a force to be feared by any warrior because of the variety of the means of attack and power of attack.
Nergal-Ushezib once explored the route of using magic during battle but decided that it would take far too much practice to become proficient enough for it to be of actual use.
Instead, he opted to use that time to hone other skills while using magic by proxy of what was put into his equipment.
He sighed, "Fine. I'll take him. You'll still receive a penalty for failing to prevent the death of a lord, particularly one participating in such a high level contest, but it will be greatly alleviated because you took the initiative to replace him."