Peace was welcome to Rekenarak and the negran celebrated in a display that coated the domain with joviality, many years were spent praising the end of the war, or at least it's perceived end. Many members of the Centions thus believed that strength was no longer a factor that contributed to success in their booming world, leaving them to lose their motivation, many new ideas strew their presence across the land, leaving lasting monuments to progress.

But, as inevitably comes from peace, the military weakened, a few noteworthy individuals, among them Dara'eluk, Darrak, Errinnar, the remaining Sain-Apocrypha and the offspring of the Reperants, Dara'eluk's children, Harens, Loron and Relnor, and Errinnar's children, bound respectively, Zarunq, Molnrex and Vasraptren, continued to train.

However over in Nallak, Belianon began a much more sinister stagnation. Using Dara'eluk's arm he sang backwards the source of the contract and the being of Errinnar himself. The king of right remolded this in a being that would function like Errinnar does, but permanently severed from it's reperant due to the being never existing in the first place. These poor creatures were twisted by sorrow with the ratio of it's parts being thrown to the wind. Each one was awfully mutilated in form, and they numbered nine. Each was made loyal to Belianon, but he saw them as mere beasts and they were not named. Thus they dwelled in permanent pain, driven half mad by agony.

They snapped at each other, endlessly squabbling. The beasts were all different, and all angry. Belianon too drove his domain into cruel progress and built monuments to subjugation and servitude, many cruel tortures were devised and Belianon utilised them upon his own people, yet over the whole of Nallak was rested a cover, that made glorious that which in substance was not, a thin sheen of light that covered the cruel dark below. In truth Belianon, overcome by ambition and greed, had begun to mutate behind his glorious facade, a permanent expression of arrogant smugness ruled his face, only ever replaced with a snarl of anger, his flesh rotted and released a putrid stench which he hid with song, he began to ooze the fluids associated with decay but they were converted to a golden liquid that flowed from him. His bones began to show through, and finally he sung his flesh to regrow at a speed equal to his decay. Thus to his skeleton hung a few scraps of endlessly rotting meat, eternally continuing the stench. However over this he kept his beautiful facade, never revealing the face below, a black skull with two endlessly staring eyes locked in the sockets. Many things under Belianon in any age were beauty over decay and corruption.

The stagnation of the realms was the end of the long war, but Belianon was not willing to have his cause to the purpose of subjugation denied. Behind the planular walls of Nallak the army was grown and trained above the cut and caliber of the army of the long war. The officers grew to know actual tactics and performed drills against each other so half the army would die, but more just be sung in for the next morn.

In Rekenarak the population quickly recovered and bloomed, among the threads of their reality they unwound the strand created by the first Great Magic and sorcery was practiced among the villages of the planar denizens. Unto this end two factions emerged, the ones who moulded their magic with words and their life and the ones who controlled their magic through energy via their thoughts from the energy of the world.

Belianon was consumed by the fear he instilled in his world and as such he was blind to the miracles occurring in its antithesis. Sorcery therefore was absent from all his thoughts and thus flourished the miracles of Rekenarak.

The towns that surrounded Nartarux grew with the population thus did cities develop with Nartarux forever as the capital, the four greatest of these lay to the four cardinal directions, and they were thus named: Lornal to the east, Brezzen to the north, Hroindal to the west and Sanfron to the south. Each the dominion of one Cention, Lornal to Locrenar, Sanfron to Freelcaz, Brezzen to Kreelcaz and Hroindal to Regenax. Each developed schools unto the magical arts. An account of these can be found in Evolution, the third book of the Heretical Omnibus.

Belianon in Drennor finally believed he was ready to march on Rekenarak, but his knowledge of the song was clouded. Belianon could only repeat words and melodies the other children had sung in convoluted and twisted combination. Azmorosu had been constantly singing strength into the planular border in order to prevent the formation of another rip between the two planes, and as Belianon began to sing in the rip Azmorosu noticed and began to sing it closed. As the two children layered melody on melody, pitch on tone and every musical skill in their repertoire Herulax called the Sain-Apocrypha and called them to raise the centions for the renewal of the Planular wars.

As both the Original and Corrupted Choir joined their Kings in song even the Drokkenai started from their trance to observe the spectacle. Belianon however underlaid a tone below the fight which forced a probe through the walls outside the observance of Azmorosu, and, before he could locate and isolate the intrusion Belianon expanded and formed an even stronger link than the previous and Belianon's legions raged forth.

As some of you may have guessed the Heretical Omnibus was originally just a way for me to vent my ridiculous tendancy for a large amount of pretentious/confising/nonsensical or whatever you want to call it, bullshit. And over time in my mind it formed a narrative capable of being the crux for the mythos of all my stories and just became the overall focus. The ridiculousness wasn't really supposed to be posted but was and... To be honest... I love the overdramatic cheese.