Vision Art and The Book of Job: Siren Song Edition · 3:07am May 30th, 2016
The first ever concept art for Epiphany! Angry about something. Probably something Siren said.
It's crazy how much material got written or illustrated for Vision that never got used. Above is the first ever drawing of Epiphany, one of a collection of images of her that I ended up disliking and not using.
I also found a rather interesting segment of text during a search through my old backup hard-drive -- a particularly good dream sequence for Vision that I never ended up using. I really like how dream-like it felt, I just worried it was a hair too close to clop and would change the tone of the story.
In Caligo, I stand, ruler of all, adored by all, and I decide how I shall meet this intruder. A warrior, he comes in a mail of steel and devotion, and an armored skirt of leather and passion. Many of his kind have come to my lands, and as many have perished, for the grasses are my faithful servants, and consume intruders as fire consumes them. This one though is different. He is neither blind, nor deaf, nor numb, as those who came before him, and for those virtues, I shall meet him in person.
I craft a form for myself as the behemoth. In mercy, I give myself the teeth that chew the grasses of the earth, and permit my strength to dwell in my loins, that he will know I do not wish him and his harm. He is a warrior though, and so I build my bones as iron, my hooves as mountains, and let force dwell in my belly. I am prepared whence he comes, greeting him in the halls of my palace. He trembles with fear in my presence, as a youth might quiver with passion in the presence of their first love. It endears me to him at once, and my eye wanders over him. I rise to my rear hooves and snort fire that threatens to burn his flesh, falling to the ground with such force that my hooves shatter the stone below. To my pleasure, it does not send him to flight, but leaves him staring with earnest eyes, and not even his armored skirt can hide his reactions or comely proportions.
“Know that I am Siren Song, ruler of this land of Caligo, and you are an intruder in my domain.” From on high I gaze down, to see how he shall acquit himself. “For this, the sentence is death, but I am merciful, and so I will permit you to justify your existence to me.”
“I am the Knight who shines as the sun!” He bellows, brave even as his voice trembles. “Servant of Celestia who rules the land of Solaris, and I have come to retrieve what you have stolen, for it is known that the jewels of your crown were once hers, and she demands their return.” Many darken my halls through council offered without knowledge, and I briefly consider raising my hoof to reduce him to as much blood and bone on the palace floor—but he speaks able to see what he faces, and that is curiously charming.
“I am no thief—twas she who brought her crown into my lands, and all in Caligo is mine to do with as I please.” I could let this one go. It would be an amusing thing, after all of the creatures of hers who have come to me to find their end, to let one go simply to see how Celestia reacts. But after more thought, that option does not suit me. This form I have crafted finds him desirable, and its needs press. “Still, I will not deny a knight on a noble quest, and so I shall let you wager for the jewels. Your life, against the crown. I shall place it upon the ground, and if you can pick it up, you may leave with it.” His mind is suspicious, but he knows he has little choice, and he nods.
It is with no small glee that I rear to my full height. The stone of the palace shatters around me as I rise, breaking across my head, boulders tumbling down my back as grains of sand. I stretch my wings to the heavens, and the clouds rejoice at my presence by sending forth lightning that tumbles across my coat. I shake the remains of my dwelling from me like the lesser beasts of the earth shake off water, sending the knight scrambling to avoid being crushed by the pieces. At my nod, the crown tumbles from my head, crashing to earth before him. Though he is not blind, his eyes are poor council, and he did not know the scale of things. The least of the jewels he seeks is larger than he is, and the shake of their impact on the earth rattles him. For a moment, he stands at a loss, and despair starts to fill his eyes.
“Take it then, knight,” I whisper as I step towards him. He flinches as he prepares to die under my hoof, but the blow never lands. With every step, my form contracts, so that I am always before him but never reach him, until at last he looks me in the eye. Smoke curls from my nostrils as the broken earth assembles under my hooves, that I shall always find a flat and level path. “Pick it up, and depart.”
“Are you to be a cheat as well as a thief? Wagering in a contest you know cannot be won?” That valor cracks, and he seeks to flee, but when he turns, there I am, and I pull him against me.
“How can I be a cheat? It is you who had the presumption to wager with something I already owned—that became mine when you set hoof in my lands.” I lean close, my words floating into his ears as the scent of smoke finds his nose. He shivers, shudders against me, and when I run a hoof across his side, I can feel his heart race.
“That isn’t... I’m not...” He tries to make some feeble excuse, to pretend he is not mine, bound by memories of one he’ll never see again. The sound dies though, when my eyes meet his, and he realizes there is truly nothing he can keep from me. Oh how exhilarating he finds that thought—how liberating. If he has no choice, then how can this be betraying his love? No longer do I have to pull him close—it is he who takes a hold of me, his forelegs going over my shoulder as our lips meet in the middle.
“Siren,” he groans. My passionate breaths are full of embers, seeming the boil the air around them, the heat under my tail no less palpable. I can see him flinch in pain where the heat touches his flesh, but it does nothing to deter him. If I laid in a bonfire, he’d seek me inside it. “Siren.” His horn shines as he rips away his armored mail, the skirt no barrier to what he plans. “Siren!”
“Siren!” Berry jabs my shoulder, sharply, and with a smart and a shout, I awake, tumbling off the couch and landing on the floor. I land on my back, the impact knocking the wind out of me and sending painful jolts up and down my spine as my eyes struggle to focus. My ears are ringing, and there’s a distinct heat under my tail, the deluge of experiences leaving me momentarily stunned.
Poor Siren. Forced to live among the Philistines.
I know how Siren feels. It sucks being surrounded by people that can't recognize the value of praising the Sun. It's so easy to just latch onto the first person that does and burn them alive in a glorious solar inferno.
That and awkward dreams on airplanes. Of all the times...
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Airplanes are just the worst for those dreams.