The Colors that Never Come

[GSM]

The battle with Aphros has ended, for a time.

The Shadowlands remain as they were, encroached upon by the sons of men.
The attacks would never cease until the daylight, where the humanoid shades would seemingly depart from the front lines of Aphros's borders.
Though still they would linger, the territory that they spanned was far less than before the attack was launched.
One may expect to disappear within the depths of the Shadowlands, rather than just outside of the sight of the city.

With the pyrrhic loss, one that nearly begot loss on either side, the mind of the attack, the Owldrake, had to pull away as instead of routing their foes, they were driven back.

A battle assessment was needed, and chalking up the results of the battle meant that it was quite clear that they needed one thing to truly prevail over the stagnant state of duality.

Power.

---

For a time, the younger demons that it had taken under its wings had left it, as had its Familiar and assortment of allies and sworn servants.
The Obelisk of the End had become a breeding ground of higher minds and powerful ambition.
But none matched its master's.

It stood upon the ether core of its spire, taking in a few of its books it had within its more highly guarded and heavily sustained personal keep.
Books of strength, of will, wars, history- anything and everything it believed could help it attain this power.

To shed this skin.
Or was it to take the skin it longed for?
Or growing skin out of its current and reshaping it to another...?

---

"This world is so callous, cruel, and unforgiving to our kindred.
A seeking of knowledge, a wish to grow, a wish to right a wrong,
And we are driven back with tails between our legs.
We lack the strength to reign as we are.
We lack the presence to do all but defend ourselves,
When the entire world would point swords to our throats.

That mantle, that effervescent dream of power...
Imperfection.
Many seek it for power, I know that much.
But... how does one attain power when this form already bathes you within it?

And why are we destined to resemble the sons of men that scorn us so?

...

I cannot seek it for power.
Even though, for my aspect, to be branded a Demon of Knowledge,
Power and knowledge are one in the same, interchangeable.
I must seek it to know what that state is like.

I must seek it to know what lies beyond.

So, if this world may drown in blood, so I may seek all the knowledge within it?
I should not care whose blood is spilled.
I apologize, my kindred.

I know I raise many young and aid our growing.
But to utilize a piece of the board, one must develop it to its apex and let its full potential shine.
If that is not enough, if it would be struck down regardless,
Then a more valuable piece of the board must reign at the top.

It saddens me to come to this conclusion.
It pains me that my kindred may die for my selfish obsession, to fulfill my aspect so we may yet grow stronger.

So I may yet grow stronger.

But that is the price of Perfection."