Khoregos

[an aspect of loxias. see polyonomos' lore to complete the story, also possible cassandre]

everyone knows that it's not safe to sing or dance in loxias' domain. making art is fraught. writing poetry or fiction is asking for trouble. far fewer know why, but loxias does, and it is a source of constant despair for him.

there is a sense in which the ruined town is loxias' dream. the patterns of his subconscious unfold and warp around him. strange things happen to those who are caught in his orbit, and strange beings lurk in the shadows of the spaces he inhabits. this is not by his own design, and though he is aware of his strangeness in a superficial way, it is impossible for him to fully grasp the idiosyncrasy of what he is. in his shallow interactions, his speech, the machinations of his conscious will, he plays at being mortal. he is not.

there are everlasting beings which guard the firmament. each watches his own star, and is embedded in the cosmic dance, the long rhythmic movements of spacetime. each unfolds endlessly through time and possibility, and, though capable of manifesting a tangible representation, can never be captured in a single persona or image. loxias' father was one of these beings, or a facet of one. his mother was mortal.

there are so many stories about the children of gods which give them linear paths from earth to heaven, which allow them to show their greatness among mortals before finding their place among their immortal forefathers. loxias would tell you not to believe anything you hear from storytellers. he knows that, as a demigod, he is only the residue of a process that was never supposed to occur, an interaction between two beings who were never meant to meet. he is a cosmic accident, and his all-too-mortal mind strains at its bounds, attempting always to understand the limits of its own unfathomable being.

on some unconscious level loxias' selfhood is constantly growing into the environment around itself, expanding and duplicating, developing facets and offshoots, a shadow of its divine father. loxias' obsession with archaic poetry and song has not escaped this process, and has instead somehow enchanted the world around him, making any act of creation fraught with unknown potential and often danger. polyonomos, a corrupted element of loxias' being, preys on artists and poets. but there is also khoregos, the bard.

when loxias is particularly happy, or sad, or angry, some have noticed a beautiful man walking about in the unfrequented halls of the caves, or in the forest. if one speaks to him, he will offer a song, which will inevitably be a true example of the sublime. unusually good luck will follow the hearer for some time afterward. this is khoregos.

khoregos is a quiet, rarely-seen presence, and on a conscious level, loxias does not quite know about him. he cannot see through his eyes as he can see through polyonomos'. nevertheless, he is just as much a part of loxias' being as polyonomos is. rumors of khoregos' existence have begun to make their way back to loxias, and they always make him smile slightly under his mask. after years of being painfully conscious of the ravages that polyonomos has worked on his loved ones, loxias is tentatively delighted to know that there is a part of himself that might simply be good. he has searched the seemingly endless expanse of his immense, overwhelming experience and found, occasionally and only faintly, a song of greater beauty than anything he has encountered in his research. he fancies that over the years, the feeble strain has gotten stronger, and somewhere deep within his mind he entertains the possibility of forgiving himself.