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Tsiyoti reached out with both hands and, holding the Light steady with one, pulled Dajjal off with the other.

"Now is not the time, Dajjal.  We Do remember, and that is far more important.  Task at hand, task at hand.   And we have something..." his voice grew darker as he spoke "else to discuss."

The Titan let go of the God and Exarch and nodded to Arvad and Isura before turning back to Pamora and the Chained Silent One

"Why is this God Chained, Pamora.  And why does it sleep?   Explain yourself.  Immediately."

Arvad found his way blocked by the massive bulk of Tsiyoti.

"Hail Friend.  Wait.  I learned well what conflict does when I faced mighty Tireas in combat.  Isura was there and can attest to what occured.  Let us allow Pamora to speak.  Perhaps there is a reason for all of this."

"I had always wondered where the other Elementals had ended up.  The world was too quiet without them.  It is good to know they have been located.  I know nothing of Tireas' capture, but I respect whomever did it for capturing quite the fearsome warrior.  I agree with Isura.  Let Pamora make an accounting of her actions, and then we can decide her fate."

Dajjal broke. There was no other word for it, no other word coul describe it. No, that word was not enough. It didn't fully encompass what happened inside her as she could not, would not comprehend the word.

It was no a word, no, that's what her brain told her. It wasn't even a sound. Had she even heard it? No. For that fraction of an instant she knew, the Light had not spoken, the mouth had not moved, and no fatal word or curse or malediction had tumbled from therein. In that instant there was peace.

But it was a word, a word she had known for a very long time, almost since birth. She was a sister, yes, the Velt, and Od'Vidr and Tsiyoti and... It was a word. And the burbling, frothing, foaming turmoil ceased under the tide of cool logic and she settled. Yes. Sister. She was sister. A sister to four.

No. Three. Three brothers and a sister. Yes? Three brother and... but the sister wasn't her, the sister was another, a hated other, a vile, loathed and despicable other. Why was this so difficult?

Because she had forgotten. Just as she had forgotten a mother, she had forgotten a sister. But she could not comprehend, because her brain could not process, could not allow that other admittance.

And so she broke, she collapsed. Upon herself she fell, into a smaller and smaller point. Until it was infinitesimal, until it was nothing, until she was nothing. And still she fell, and all the winds in all the worlds fell as well.

The quaint little assembly of gods was disrupted by a sucking sound, quiet at first, but growing louder all the time. Dajjal had disappeared from their midst, her godly form diminished to a singularity, impossibly small, and the sound continued to rise, growling at first, then climbing to a steady roar. It was as though a hole had been punched in the fabric of the universe, and all the air was being sucked through it. The sound rose, to a deafening pitch, and then louder, even more terrible and awesome than the speech of gods in its breadth and tone.

And then the motion, the motion of the wind and the air all moving inexorably towards this spot. And the winds rushed, the winds blew, and the winds tossed, sucking towards that infinitely small point.

In the world, the full breadth of the effect was seen as hurricane force winds rushed at the planar boundaries, sucked towards that point in time and space, and as the winds went, so did the trees, pulled from their rootings like a child grasping at twigs. And the houses, and the people, plucked from the earth by the gale-winds.  And the mountains themselves trembled, and the sky was awash with water from the seas, and trees and earth from the land. And the vacuum created by the disappearing air sucked all upwards in its maddening pull. And the gods had mere seconds before the earth itself would split, buckling under the pressure of the suddenly vanishing winds.

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