Xol yearned for nurture. It did so amongst the thousands.
[Madness. Whether he knew it or not, the Subjugator shared this characteristic with his very target, the Osmium King. Larvae in hand, the king was surrounded by whispers—whispers of the end of all things. Designed to incite madness.]
[And then the movement of a silver moon in the sky made his madness fester. He raved. Ranted. Until others were so sick of listening that they tore him from this life. His daughters, fearing for theirs, fled.]
[From on high, they watched—the Witness and its Disciple—plotting their next move.]
"It toys with us, my Witness, as it always has. Our enemy in Fundament's sky. Its movements are a message, one that that belies our machinations."
—-It delays our desires so that it may seek its own. These frail siblings… will soon be claimed by the Light. Unless we claim them first. Our whispers were fed to a weak mind. But we have watched these siblings. These children of the king. They are brave minds. Clever minds. Ambitious minds. Yet unsullied by the weakness of aging that plagues their kind.—-
"Then what compels them to hear our whispers?"
—-Desperation. We will tell the most cunning sibling of a cataclysm. A prophecy… of great loss. We will feed her fear. Her pride. We will say… Young Sathona. The end is coming. A great cataclysm. A God-Wave. In the Sky… there is only death. But salvation… lies in the Deep. Lead your sisters down. Your cunning will spare their short lives. And you… will be reborn. The Witch Queen… Savathûn.—-
"Quite the embellished lie, my Witness."
—-Lie? Or perhaps a truth in the making? That will be of her choosing. She may even stand alongside you one day. In service of the final shape.—-
[In that moment, jealousy, envy- or something more was all but painted across the Subjugator's expression.]