The Lord of Ardor

So all I gotta do is jump in and out of his shadow and you'll pay me HOW much?!
— Last words of a Prime new to the Hive

The planes have mysteries, cutter, and not all of them have answers. Walk the planes long enough and that’s something you’ll take to heart. Some things just ARE. You don’t question them, you don’t fight them, and you don’t so much as stand in their way. They just exist and you accept it.

Not the lord of ardor, no, The Lord of Ardor. His Rapture, His Lascivious Majesty, and the ultimate power in Cypher. He keeps and controls the portals of the City of Keys, and He bars the powers from entering. Appearing as a tall, dark-skinned man, nude but for a white feathered mantle and eleaborate jewelry, He is the protector of Cypher and all of its inhabitants, not that He likely personally cares one way or another for anyone in the city. But any threats to Cypher itself or to His own power and He reacts. During these select few times in Cypher’s history, terrible His fury has been, and most Hivers prefer to forget such occurrences.

From time to time, He may randomly appear in an obscure part of the city, passively observing before vanishing around a corner without a trace. It is said certain acts may draw His attention, but no one can say for sure. Wise bloods look away and avert their eyes, or quickly find business elsewhere - too close proximity with the Lord can drive a berk mad. He never speaks; never has in the history of Cypher as far as anyone knows, though there are rumors that His voice can turn angels into whores. In the scant few times He’s needed to make His will known directly He’s done so through one of His servants, the dabus, as He floats silently behind them, always a look of smug mischievousness on His face. Not that it’s wise to stare into that countenance.

He’s not a god, get that straight. He’s something else, more or less; none know the dark of it. But never worship Him, not even in jest. Those who do are found dead; their bodies twisted and faces frozen in rictuses of deadly pleasure. Whoever His feathered and smoky shadow touches, their body is seized by violent tremors of ecstasy so powerful that they can crack bone and pulverize flesh. This is known in the chant as "wracking". None have ever survived the touch of His shadow, nor even been successfully resurrected afterwards. They die, that is certain, for when He acts, He acts with certainty.

The Dabus

Commonly seen in most every part of Cypher, existing as the silent caretakers of the City of Keys and servants of the Lord of Ardor are the dabus. The dabus appear as satyr-like humanoids with white skin, goatlike horns, and a shock of white feathers on their heads instead of hair. They float off the ground, their hooves never touching the earth. It is nearly impossible to tell one dabus from another, and due to their physical similarity it remains impossible to estimate the true number of dabus that inhabit the city.

The dabus act as the caretakers of Cypher, floating, rather than walking above the streets in small groups to repair the roads, trim razorvine back from buildings, and keep the streets clean of debris and detritus. Within Cypher, legend has always held that the dabus reside within hidden warrens deep beneath the city streets. However, none have ever observed the dabus entering these fabled retreats of theirs. At most, when dusk falls over the city the dabus have been seen floating down into openings to the Great Below, or simply turning corners and vanishing from the streets.

Perhaps the most defining, and the most perplexing, feature of the dabus is the peculiar manner of communication they possess. The dabus are mute, and while they can apparently listen to and understand any known method of communication, they possess neither audible nor telepathic modes of speech. Rather, the dabus project above their heads a string of illusory symbols and pictures that form words. The so-called dabus rebuses can be confusing and difficult to translate to those unfamiliar with their chosen method of speech, though the rebuses are always phrased to translate into the favored language of whomever the dabus are speaking to.

The dabus are utterly loyal to His Rapture, and any harm or molestation of the dabus is taken as a threat to Cypher itself. Those guilty of this crime are, if not immediately, often sent to the mazes within a short period of time. On those rare occasions when a dabus has been killed, the murderer has been seen transfixed by the feather edged shadow of the Lord in full view of the public, their body wracked with spastic orgasm as punishment, their screams of pleasure lasting minutes before death takes them.

Speculation on the true nature of the Lord is rife among scholars, sages, and the common folks of Cypher alike. But answers are never forthcoming from any source. Still, the common chant, most likely all screed without a shred of proof, holds a number of common myths. A few suggest He may simply be an illusion of the dabus themselves, or their king, much like that among bees in a hive. Now dead sages, rumored mazed or wracked, have claimed that the Lord is not the ruler of Cypher, but its ultimate prisoner, doomed to wander the multiverse with the city. Some have compared the Lord to an overpower, or some unique, but nondivine being, so ancient as to defy mortal definitions. A being who exists to keep Cypher free of any and all divine influences, perhaps in an attempt to balance the planes themselves.

Of course, not a shred of proof exists to shed a light upon the mystery. And those who seek to delve too deeply into the Lord’s secrets tend to vanish without a trace, gone, whisked away on the winds of oblivion.