A youthful mind is a fragile thing. Hopeful, filled with dreams and ideals. An Inner Voice tells the fortunate that they are destined for great things, and if not that, at least for simple happiness. Those who grew up warmed by the Hearth of Care, Wisdom and Love see the world for the best it could be. If everything was as they believed it to be, they could surely make it so.

But just like dreamers, their eyes are closed. And for as long as they remain shut, they can journey ahead, striving towards their beliefs. If they make it far enough in their own Dreamworlds, they stand a faint chance of making their Reality into a facsimile of their imaginations. However, a word of caution is needed. For many, they will not persist long enough in their Dream to wake up in a world that resembles it.

Untold masses of Dreamers shall experience the early Awakening. One that turns their vision into a living Nightmare.
It will be a time of the Great Test. A test of their resolve. When their hope fades, their ideals are set ablaze, their dreams shatter... When they feel the Cold once Warmth has left them...

They will learn of the Call of the Void.

Many will embrace it with an overwhelming sense of dread and despair, guiding them to apathy, nihilism and a drive towards self-annihilation.

A few will face it with stalwart Strength, welcoming the challenge as a test of their Faith, resolving to fight for their stolen Dreams and challenged beliefs.

And for some... Anger and resentment shall fill them in a soul-devouring tide. Rage for all the lies, deceptions, subjugation and atrocities. Those will not answer the Void by taking a leap into its Embrace. They will either burn up swiftly in a hot blaze of their own Fury... Or turn it into raw Power. The Cold Wrath. Becoming the thralls who answered the Call.

In merely one of the Futures foreseen... The things I saw broke me. When the last spark of Hope was extinguished...

I could have given up.
Could have left myself to the numbing touch of Oblivion.

But there was a price to pay. A debt to settle.
For those who have sown the wind, shall reap the whirlwind.

A fatal blow to the Heart tore it apart, but that alone failed to kill me.
For even a heartless husk, I was still a Promised Vessel to the Lord of Scorn, marked by his Eye.

Born of shattered Dreams and snuffed out Hopes,
A witness of too many unpunished injustices, of too many nefarious schemes disgustingly rewarded.

In those hateful eyes, the world was filled with scum and villainy to a point beyond salvation. The acts of goodwill, few and far between, judged as woefully inadequate to redeem it.
The Chains that once held back this Entity, finally snapped, strained to their breaking point. It was Hope that gave them their strength, the Hope to see a world of shared Kindness and Wisdom being the force that contained an immense weight of Resentment gathered throughout the years.
The Spears lodged in my back bearing the memories of every single treachery, great and petty, their jagged points ensuring they are never forgiven, never forgotten.
Once soft and welcoming fur, turned into a carapace of obsidian-sharp quills, each tipped with deadly venom. A reminder of pursuits long abandoned.

With the Light of Life gone, what remains is a Scion of the Void, a servant of the Scornful One.
A demon animated by sheer Cold Wrath, the Sigils of Ruin marking his wings, leaving desolate landscapes and withered husks in his wake.
A calamity sent upon those who found undeserved fortunes in a world that has strayed far from justice, upon the disgraceful usurpers and their witless underlings.

Despair paralyzes. Wrath empowers. Cunning shows the way.
For one cannot mend something so broken, but with enough Power, one can avenge it.
And for all the anguish they caused, the Agents of Malice shall learn Fear.

There will come a day when dark wings shall eclipse the Sun shining upon their faces.

...For one Death was not enough.

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This amazing piece of art came out as a result of a Monsterize Me special Halloween commission I got from Isvoc in October 2023. It just so happened to be a perfect opportunity to portray an aspect of Arcaizen's lore, namely him being a host to a dormant High Demon, a result of a reluctant bargain struck by his father when he was presented with a fateful dilemma. For the entirety of the dragon's quite pleasant youth, the curse remained unknown to him, only present in his dreams and subtle whispers. Yet this particular spirit feeds on contempt, a feeling foreign to the young Arcaizen up until he left the Great Kandhaeris Republic and witnessed the disturbing nature of the outside world, with all its avarice, corruption and lust for power. A journey from the metaphorical Garden of Eden right under the Sword of Damocles was a rather harsh awakening for the still adolescent dragon. When after reunion with his father Velquaznir he started unveiling the lies he was fed, one by one, leading to the eerie discovery of his purpose and the fate of his mother, a confrontation and a reckoning was inevitable. It was a confrontation he lost... But the demon within him won.

This form of Arcaizen is more powerful by orders of magnitude, being the vessel of an entity wielding calamitous powers and its entryway to the Material World. However, each transformation takes a heavy toll on both sanity and body of the host. Only through stoic calmness and willpower can the Voice within be contained. And once awakened, it cannot be put to rest until it chooses to relinquish control. I love how this artwork perfectly captures many of the allegorical components of the Scornful One's avatar - from the runes, to the chains and spears. The whole otherworldly visage only emphasizes the unnatural character of this form, which is quite impressive given the limited color palette.

As a footnote, I'd like to take this opportunity to express my sympathy for all of those who are disillusioned with the world, feeling like it treads over the kind and virtuous, rewarding ruthlessness, boundless ambition and lack of consideration for anyone. The original inspiration for this art was placed in a bunch of similar feelings. To my mind, no one can really be blamed for finding themselves in such a place of hopelessness, or even "doomerism". I would even say it's easier than ever. From uncaring or abusive parents, through an economy shedding any pretenses of rewarding hard, honest work and offering a path to a good life for those who are just "good" and "average", rather than "the best"... All the way to the doomsaying media and the overwhelming threat of wars, diseases, rising tides of political radicalism often aimed towards either violent discrimination or enabling destructive actors in societies. Or even personal failures, like a failure to find love, friendship or even a decent job or a place to live. There are so many deeply uncomfortable things to think about. The Call of the Void is a real thing. It can only really be fought by focusing on the aspects of life where we do have agency - whether it is finding purpose in exploring passions, enjoying the small disctractions and joys of everyday life or cherishing the few people who seem to genuinely care for us.

It is often justified to rage against reality we find ourselves in. Anger is Power, after all. It can be the drive to action even for those who find their motivation to be lost completely. But surrendering oneself to it fully, while tempting at the darkest times, leads down a path of no return.
As long as you see virtually -any- path that could lead to a better place, when the Void beckons, tell it: "Not today".

The artwork was made by the incredibly skilled  leilryu, you can find her upload here:
https://www.furaffinity.net/view/54263755/
Possessed Arcaizen/The Scornful One belongs to me.

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The real villains are often not the ones who lost the fight with their demons, but those who awakened them.
Should you, in your arrogance, push others to their breaking point, beware.
For every hundred that will meekly snap and fall, one will shatter into splinters that will make you bleed.