|
|
Line 1: |
Line 1: |
− | * - Back to [[GoldenCat/EighthMovement|Eighth Movement]]
| + | #REDIRECT ADanceOfAngels |
− | * - Back to [[GoldenCat/DanceOfAngels|A Dance of Angels]]
| |
− | | |
− | == Mother of Chaos ==
| |
− | | |
− | Spire...
| |
− | | |
− | It was calm, now.
| |
− | | |
− | The air seemed so much... fresher. As if the whole city had been gripped by its metaphorical throat, and could not breathe free until now. Days saw it even on the clinic... as the spot of Iselsis' destruction was warded off, as Monev slowly healed from his horrible burn wonds, waking up shaking many times during the nights... as Iselsis seemed to be in the deepest of comas. And Fiona, in a pleasant sleep... from which she slowly woke up. Her eyes opening slowly... mumbling something, shaking her head... the feline ears twitching a little bit.
| |
− | | |
− | And then, without realising where she is, sleepy still, she stretched and yawned.
| |
− | | |
− | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' Snow Monkey has seen it. He has seen it all, through the fogged lens of his quarter-broken self. Monkey did not move, did not budge, and barely even ate, refusing to move from his spot close to Fiona, watching her like a puppy watching its young master as she sleeps. While some of it was devotion, and some of it was the newfound connections that lay within Fiona... most of it was abject terror as the mere notion of not being there when Fiona came to.
| |
− | | |
− | Fear trapped in fear, Days simply remains there at the foot of her bed, crouched and stone-still, not even his tail moving an inch. Still, his eyes say everything his body refuses to show and his mouth refuses to put to words.
| |
− | | |
− | '''Ryshassa: ''' Ryshassa sits close to the bedside, minding her patients, but Fiona in particular, for she anticipated she would wake very soon. Archren might be a terror to deal with, but she definitely knew what she was doing. Now the danger to Fiona's life is gone, though the cat-like features are not.
| |
− | | |
− | "Good morning, Fiona," Ryshassa says in her best bed-side manner. As Fiona's vision clears she can clearly see the vivid colors of the kimono she now wears, a verdant leaf green with songbirds flitting among tropical flowers. She does not, of course, mention the cat-ears or let her expression show any sign that something is unusual or untoward. Patients should wake up calm and soothed, not alarmed!
| |
− | | |
− | "How are you feeling?"
| |
− | | |
− | '''Kanti: ''' Kanti looks down at Fiona as she lies there, sleeping so peacefully, looking so odd, with her new ears and features.
| |
− | | |
− | ''Well, not odd, but .... strange for Fiona, at least.... ''
| |
− | | |
− | ''But Ryshy says she'll wake up fine... ''
| |
− | | |
− | ''Days seems so concerned.... ''
| |
− | | |
− | ''...and scared.... ''
| |
− | | |
− | ''....how can a fae be scared? ''
| |
− | | |
− | Kanti alternates her viewing between Fiona and the Child of Wyld days, eyes flickering between concern and worry as they go between the two. And then she saw Fiona twitch, and stretch, and her heart lept.
| |
− | | |
− | "Fiona ...? Hello Fiona!" She speaks, voice filled with joy. On her shoulder, the little kitten meows.
| |
− | | |
− | '''Fiona: ''' She blinks, a few times, her perfect brown eyes now crossed with slitted, feline irises. The ears perked up as she saw Ryshassa, her lips breaking into a most serene smile... "Ryshy! I... um, I am alright.... what happenned? Did I doze off... why are all of you..."
| |
− | | |
− | "Kanti! That is a cute kitten!"
| |
− | | |
− | '''Ryshassa: ''' "It ''is'' cute!" Ryshassa enthuses, not having even noticed it there until now. She giggles pleasantly, resisting for now the urge to pet and cuddle the cute fluffy kitten. Must... resist... fluffy... kitten.
| |
− | | |
− | "Well, Fiona, you've actually been out quite a while... what is the last thing that you remember happening?"
| |
− | | |
− | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' Days simply stares. As soon as Fiona comes to, his eyes widen, and the hands planted on the floor begin to curl, practically digging into the ground as he waits for her to look his way.
| |
− | | |
− | '''Fiona: ''' "I... was here in the clinic, had just treated that poor Dragon-Blooded girl back to health, and nursing those poor people in the cave-in of the tailor's house... and, well. I think that is it... and now... um." She looks up... and brings her hand up to touch...
| |
− | | |
− | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' Monkey tenses. ''My fault? She should have been healed. Maybe I struck her too hard. Maybe I... maybe... ''
| |
− | | |
− | '''Kanti: ''' Kanti smiles a little wider at the people who like the kitten, raising a hand of her own to stroke her head as Fiona speaks of the last thing she remembered...
| |
− | | |
− | ''Such a long time ago ... or was it? No, only a few days ... though that's still a long time to be out... ''
| |
− | | |
− | ''Oh how will she react to the ears...? ''
| |
− | | |
− | ''And what is so wrong with Days...? ''
| |
− | | |
− | '''Ryshassa: ''' Ryshassa takes a deep breath. Here was the part that might be unpleasant. "Well... I do not know the details myself, I was not present at the time... but when you were brought into the clinic, Fiona, it was just after you had been possessed by a cat-spirit, a Virdynn..." She wonders whether Fiona is familiar with such creatures already; after all, she is a sorceress and a prodigy, young as she may be.
| |
− | | |
− | "The others, they had to... stop you. From hurting others too much. In any case... you seem to be back to your ordinary self, plus some additions. But you might have been lost altogether, if not for the thaumaturgist Archren who helped put your Essence right."
| |
− | | |
− | '''Fiona: ''' She listens... blanking... touching her ears...
| |
− | | |
− | Her expression is unreadable. More than unreadable, it is ''strange''. Picture what you would see in someone's face if their mother walked into the room naked, with an avocado on her head and a dog you had never seen in her hands. It is a similar expression. She touches the fur, pulls... pulls... and winces.
| |
− | | |
− | She listens to every word Ryshassa speaks, and to those shocking facts, she has only one inquiry.
| |
− | | |
− | "... I have ''ears''?"
| |
− | | |
− | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' ''She didn't mention me? But I... no. No, that's good! Fiona can't blame me for what's happened if she doesn't know! But... but I did help her. I did find Archen... but Archen hates me, too. Maybe Fiona will, eventually... ''
| |
− | | |
− | His tail twitches, and he betrays motion. Perhaps ready to move, to bolt, to panic? Hard to say.
| |
− | | |
− | '''Ryshassa: ''' "Why yes, you do have ears... we all do," Ryshassa says encouragingly, "except yours are, uh... not quite human any more. Archren probably would not apologize for it, but I will. She could not completely remove the trace of the Virdynn's influence from your essence. So now..."
| |
− | | |
− | She reaches over to a nearby bedside table, picking up a gilded mirror so that Fiona can see her own reflection fully...
| |
− | | |
− | '''Kanti: ''' Kanti bites her lip, wondering how Fiona will react...
| |
− | | |
− | '''Fiona: ''' "... I need a mirror." Is all she says, and notices Ryshassa is already at it...
| |
− | | |
− | Her hands run down her hair, touching her teeth...
| |
− | | |
− | She looks at herself in the mirror... pushing the ears out, to put them in evidence, to see... to think... and then she looks at each and every one of them, asking their opinion... a very judgemental, yet pleading look, in her pleading eyes...
| |
− | | |
− | "... I think they are ''cute''. What do you think?"
| |
− | | |
− | '''Ryshassa: ''' Ryshassa lets out another breath, this time of relief, at Fiona's reaction. Perhaps Days would not look so... forlorn and frightened now, either, if Fiona is pleased...
| |
− | | |
− | "Why, I think they are lovely on you. Just think of it as a new look! I am sure they still function just as well, probably better, even."
| |
− | | |
− | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' Days takes in a quick, deep breath as Fiona looks at him... and does something quite unexpected. He withdraws, almost like a scolded dog, and simply doesn't say anything, too worried that even speaking might be the wrong thing to do.
| |
− | | |
− | '''Kanti: ''' Kanti bites her lip, watching Fiona's reaction as she studies herself in the mirror, so very nervous and wondering how Fiona will cope, what she will think.
| |
− | | |
− | ''Cute....they are cute, yes. ''
| |
− | | |
− | ''Almost as cute as Xue. ''
| |
− | | |
− | ''Though maybe Xue will be jealous now... ''
| |
− | | |
− | ''Are cats so bad as cat gods? ''
| |
− | | |
− | Kanti smiles at the young solar, her friend and nods. "They're very cute!"
| |
− | | |
− | '''Fiona: ''' Those comments - especially Kanti's enthusiastic smile and nod light up Fiona's face... and as the Solar do so, butterflies fly out of her stomach - litterally, multihued butteflies do so and vanish soon afterwards, feeling like cotton candy if they ever touch one's skin - and she opens the warmest smile, pointing her open arms to Kanti, "And don't I get to hold it? Let me, let me, let me! Does he has a name? Or is it a she?"
| |
− | | |
− | "And why are you so silent, Days?"
| |
− | | |
− | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' "I... I am..."
| |
− | | |
− | It is all that Monkey can do to speak, as he strains to finish. "I am broken, Fiona. I will take some time to fix."
| |
− | | |
− | '''Ryshassa: ''' Ryshasssa smiles at the display of butterflies, touching one with the tip of her finger as it flutters by.
| |
− | | |
− | "Broken...?" This is the first time Days has really addressed something about his... predicament... even in such vague terms, at least to Ryshassa's ears. "Perhaps I might be able to examine you..." she suggests to the fae gently, almost hopefully. "If... if it is something I could help."
| |
− | | |
− | '''Kanti: ''' "She. Xue is a she." Kanti nods and then reaches up, taking the cat from her shoulder and offering Xue to Fiona on the palm of her hands. "There, take her. Xue, be good for Fiona..!" She smiles, before Days says he is broken....
| |
− | | |
− | ''how did a fae break? ''
| |
− | | |
− | ''what was wrong? ''
| |
− | | |
− | ''is that why...why he is not so ... wrong? ''
| |
− | | |
− | '''Fiona: ''' Xue is... wary. She looks up at Fiona, and mews. Wary, sensing something quite like her but not exactly like her... and then Fiona picks Xue, her legs hanging below her in that undignified manner until Fiona cradles Xue on her hands against her chest... and then, the kitten begun to look up, trying to bat at Fiona's bust or face... while Fiona herself focused on Days, her caste mark shining, her irises becoming dream-butterflies as she watches Days intently, never forgetting to pet the kitten... ".. broken?"
| |
− | | |
− | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' "You cannot help!" It is both anger and intense frustration as he snaps at Ryshassa... although that moment fades into whisper-voiced apologies and such as he remains guarded and twitchy. "It is not something... mortal hands can fix. I simply used myself too much."
| |
− | | |
− | '''Fiona: ''' She begun to pet Xue, and it looked somewhat uncomfortable for a moment, mewling, still indomitable into not giving up to her. But Fiona had time, if anything...and her gaze continued to travel the Raksha's form, her trance sight seeing... "Broken... isn't there anything at all we can do? Maybe you need some time in the Wyld?"
| |
− | | |
− | '''Ryshassa: ''' Ryshassa recoils at the sudden outburst, then calms herself willfully -- ''he does not seem in control of his reactions at all, I cannot blame him for that. ''
| |
− | | |
− | "I apologize... No need to be alarmed. I will not touch you if you do not wish it," she says simply, resuming her seat to watch when Kanti hands Fiona the kitten. In all honesty she had absolutely no experience or idea how she might help a fae heal in as abstract a fashion as that. Part of her wished to explore such a possibility, even if it were indeed impossible, but the patient's desires come first.
| |
− | | |
− | "You have overextended yourself since the recent battles, then? Will it simply take time to recover, or..."
| |
− | | |
− | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' "Pain."
| |
− | | |
− | He looks down, leaving it at that... before coughing a little. "... I will need to rebuild myself soon. This form is succumbing to Creation's pressure." Even that is only a touch above a whisper, and Monkey doesn't look too willing to actualy look Fiona square in the eye now.
| |
− | | |
− | '''Fiona: ''' Fiona continues to pet Xue, who finally begins to give up a little and purr, as she tries to get up... surprisingly relaxed, although her sense of balance is still a little off... and now... she has a tail! She stopped for a moment to look at her own tail, move it around a little bit... before reaching with one hand, keeping the other to Xue(who, despite being purring, holds at her hospital shirt, claws touching her breasts and making the girl almost yelp) and reaching with it to Days' shoulder... "It will be ok, then... I will go with you, I know a thing or two about the Wyld..." She smiles, sweetly, before turning to her fellow healer... "Ryshy? Can you go into more detail on what has been happening...?"
| |
− | | |
− | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' Days momentarilly recoils... then relents to being touched, still not looking Fiona directly. He says nothing, tail thumping on the ground as he waits for something to go wrong. "... it is dangerous, Fiona..."
| |
− | | |
− | '''Fiona: ''' She pats a bit at Days' shoulder while she waits for Ryshassa to collect her thoughts about the events, making sure Xue will not fall with her other hand... and, sat on the bed as she is, she swishes her tail back and forth. It is... odd.... "Days, the Wyld cannot hurt me. I learned how to ward that on the way here." She says with a smug grin, which display feline teeth...
| |
− | | |
− | '''Ryshassa: ''' Ryshassa perks in interest at mention of this ward... something she herself had been interested in learning. But she keeps her attention towards informing Fiona of the recent events, at least the ones she knows enough of to be able to speak of. The Virdynn, Monev and Iselsis's sacrifice, Calobis and the ritual, and so on. She takes care to mention Days' feats in particular -- striking the Virdynn so that it would leave Fiona's body, the lone fight with the massive spider Bouki, Calobis's hekatonkhire mount -- in the hopes it might cheer the fae some to be reminded of his own heroics. She is quite an excellent storyteller, after all, though she hardly needs to embellish the tales, as the truth alone is brimming with shocking revelations and extraordinary feats.
| |
− | | |
− | '''Fiona: ''' "Ooooh!" Fiona listens to every word, drinking it down, the tension, the heroism! How could she be asleep during something so epic? To hear they went through such pains to get her back... to hear a whole neighborhood was burnt to ashes in a flash, that the ''famous'' Elizabeth Holysword had returned as a Chosen, all that... and of course... Days. Fiona lets go of Xue, placing the kitten on the bed so Kanti can pick the now closed-eyes-and-purring mass of fur, finally steps down from the bed... picking Days and Kanti, and hugging them both! "Thank you!"
| |
− | | |
− | She smiles a little to Ryshassa while holding the tall man and the short girl - hoping she would understand they needed to be more congratulated by their parts in it, both by their magnitude being far greater than Ryshasa's in it, and by being who they are... but yet, not forgetting it was Ryshassa who doubtlessly tended to her while she was unconscious...
| |
− | | |
− | '''Ryshassa: ''' Ryshassa just smiles back, somewhat sadly, but still genuinely. It was to be expected; she told the tale, did not live it. But it was not as if she had not been thanked many times before for a profession that can at times be a thankless art. The heroes are rarely the healers, but the healers ensure that the heroes may continue to strive.
| |
− | | |
− | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' Snow Monkey '''tenses''', although only for a moment. That passed, he simply lets himself be hugged, looking quite ashamed of himself. "I did not mean to strike your body too hard, Fiona... "
| |
− | | |
− | Ryshassa: In any case, the tale is told, the hugs are dispensed... Ryshassa meanwhile finds herself pondering how Days' finished her sentence from before. Pain... he needs to be hurt in order to be helped? The very thought of striking someone who seems so frightened and timid rankles her.
| |
− |
| |
− | '''Fiona: ''' She smiles at the Child, and lets go of her and Fiona, doing a twist about herself... and nearly falling in the proccess. "No, no, don't be! I'm fine! Whatever you hit was not me... just a thing possessing my body! And Ryshassa has taken care of things... I don't even feel bruised! I feel fresh! I feel fine!" In fact, that was not true - her body still ached, but it could probably be from the transformation it went through, and she would rather let that little white lie pass than saying so - Days, right now, would clearly think it was his fault.
| |
− | | |
− | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' "If... if you say so." And with that, the Child rises from his crouch, still refusing to look directly at Fiona. "We should go... I don't want to risk having my form collapse before I can rebuild it. There's no telling who's out there waiting for me..." The hesitation and raw worry in his voice can't be hidden, and the mighty raksha warrior fidgets, almost as if trying to marshall what fragments of courage he has left simply to leave.
| |
− | | |
− | '''Fiona: ''' "Alright... let's go, then! And don't worry, don't worry... you heard Ryshassa. All the bad guys around here got beaten..." It was hard to look at Days like that. He was so proud, so powerful... what could make him become like... that? It hurt just to look at it, indeed... and then, Fiona excuses herself, giving Xue some more petting... Kanti and Ryshassa were busy with the clinic, and Fiona walked out saying she needed to walk around a bit, she felt she had been on the bed too long...
| |
− | | |
− | And so, she walks out with Days, following her to wherever there is a Wyld in Spire...
| |
− | | |
− | "Ryshassa said you spent all the time next to my bed, Days... thanks. I didn't know you cared so much..."
| |
− | | |
− | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' "You mean too much to me now, Fiona."
| |
− | | |
− | Days moves along where his senses tell him to, eyes on the ground and posture slumped. Even his tail drags along the ground. "The thing that... assumed your body. It revealed something to me. Something a bit... a bit..." ''Unbeleivable? Ironic? Hilarious? Damning? '' "... unexpected. Since then, I've thought of nothing but those words."
| |
− | | |
− | '''Fiona: ''' Fiona, on the other hand, feels so... athletic! Like she never was before! She jumps up and down the debris on the streets, her face a little further foward than her body, seeming to be hunting... her tail moving unconsciously, perking up and down.... and looking at Days with eyes that only a curious cat can have. "Oh? What did that thing tell you?"
| |
− | | |
− | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' "Your essence. It... here. This might answer everything." Monkey, lazily reaching out into thin air, pulls forth an old and somewhat tattered book from the depths of Elsewhere, offering it to Fiona without a word. "You always did want to read it. Perhaps it might give you some answers that I don't think I ever could dare say right now..."
| |
− | | |
− | '''Fiona: ''' "Oh? Is that the famous Writ of Wyld Days?" She asks pleasantly, picking it on her slender fingers... and opening it, reading as she walks, absent-minded... and without noticing dream butterflies begin to flutter about her. As she reads, tendrils of her anima, hues of golden and violet come out, touching the writ, pulling words out and letting them hang about her... and the more she walks, the more her own form is lost amidst the hues, the words and the butterflies... and Fiona herself does not notice, engrossed as she is in reading the writ...
| |
− | | |
− | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' Monkey cannot help but notice this, even if it's in momentary glances now and then. Nonetheless he plods along, already beginning to show the signs of 'stress': here and there, small strands of his form begin to peel away, the ends slowly turning to little more than glittering dust and old, dead dreams in the breeze. While it doesn't seem to cause Days any pain, he obviously looks concerned, patting down what strands he can in a futile attempt to maintain shape.
| |
− | | |
− | '''Fiona: ''' She walks with the Raksha, although how she is able to see where Days is going - even though she seems unaware of her surroundings, reading the book in the strangest way possible, turning the pages with vacant eyes as her anima plays tricks that are nothing sort of surreal with everything around her, paragraphs of the writ shining around her with violet and crimson hues, golden essence holding them all together as butterflies slowly drank them... and like that, she followed Monkey to the Wyld.
| |
− | | |
− | To the Park amidst Spire, one with tall iron gates, with strange flowers appearing to scream to get out. Some did scream. Some did cry. Some did sing. Five concentric rings of irondust lined the park, but now those lines lay corrupt, broken, and through them, Monkey can walk. Walk towards the shapeless sky that shifts colors, the great tree of snow that almost rivals the Palace of Timeless Winters in its old size, with passion fruits that turn into warm tropical courtesans that Spire nobles sometimes used, no prostitute disease more characteristic than a few choicy wyld mutations there. And a park that lovers ventured to run into, with glades of dreams for young, adventurous couples, where the trees sing of their eternal love, sing songs that reflect their moods, giving them soundtracks of dream like those of a love in an opera... or even retain the memories of a young couple's death-pact forever.
| |
− | | |
− | And as they walk past the rings, Fiona opens her eyes, and all of the paragraphs - now the whole writ around her in golden words - exploded all around, becoming word-dews on the flowers of the bordermarch. "... oh."
| |
− | | |
− | She says, looking at Days... and Days could see herself, deeper and deeper and many times in Fiona's eyes. And then she remembers of what the Virdynn had said. How the Virdynn had opened all the doors inside Fiona's mind. It seemed like all doors were open now, and Monkey saw himself inside each and every one of those, each inside another, all in her eyes... "I am... I am... and you..."
| |
− | | |
− | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' "Yes."
| |
− | | |
− | In those eyes, in that gaze, in the presence of Solar, spiritual mother, creator... The Child of Wyld Days feels very, very small. He cannot pull away from those eyes at first, though. Their gaze is too deep, their meaning too overpowering. Monkey feels helpless, panicked, jealous, disgusted... and afraid.
| |
− | | |
− | "... this will do."
| |
− | | |
− | '''Fiona: ''' She holds the writ with a mixture of sacred reverence and the casual care of something that is ''hers'''. She knows and feels it as she walks towards Days... remembering. All doors had been opened, but she had not looked inside them yet. Not until now. The flowers hear her thoughts and sing. Sing of mother, creator, of Solars and Rakshas. Of strange parentages and a monkey created by a diary. The flowers sing, and the bees with bodies of women fly around them, buzzing curiosity as Fiona's arms go around the tall man-monkey's form... "Days.. you are... mine... you are..." She looks up... "You are my... her... legacy... my ancestor, me... it is... strange..."
| |
− | | |
− | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' "I am... I am..."
| |
− | | |
− | Perhaps without thought, perhaps without concern fo the end result, Snow Monkey begins to reassemble himself, even as Fiona holds onto him. Shreds of dream-flesh fly, used and empty gossamer dust spreading in all directions to coat the flowers and give the air an almost magical appearance... and Monkey begins to shrink as Air is sucked in and wrapped into a cocoon of Essence, dream and emotions once held back by the Valor of a raksha who dared to walk among godlings.
| |
− | | |
− | "I am... yours?"
| |
− | | |
− | '''Fiona: ''' "Days? Are you... are you alright?!? Days? Talk to me, Days?" She nearly panics as Days seems to shrink, trying to hold on to the Raksha, feeling that she is going to lose him, that he is going to disappear right when she learned their connection, the Raksha's importance... as the emobidment of all herself had written in another lifetime. Of all she had been, once... and instinctively, light against the Wyld races around her, creating a coat around her skin, around her hospital clothes... giving them a golden sheen, with tinges of multihued dream, and the forms of butterflies and leaves trailing around, as if her skin and clothes had became fine silverware... "I don't want to lose you!"
| |
− | | |
− | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' "I am not lost. Not yet. I am broken..."
| |
− | | |
− | What was once a towering man-monkey is now quite different. Still in Fiona's grasp as Essence and gossamer comes together into a final, spur-of-the-moment shape, the Child of Wyld Days... looks quite like he----no, she feels. Small, timid, helpless. But the characteristics of the Warrior Atop The Dragon shine through nonetheless.
| |
− | | |
− | She is only slightly taller than Fiona now, slight in figure but with the look of a barbarian, trim and athletic. Aside from her sudden shift in gender and apparent age, little has changed about the Monkey's normal distinguishing features, or her clothing... which means that her vest is only barely keeping her modest. Her hair's much shorter, though, similar to the hot springs monkeys she steals her appearance from, snow-white and almost mane-like in quality.
| |
− | | |
− | The Child of Wyld Days is very much a child now... and she wastes little time in clinging to Fiona, shivering. "But I won't be lost. I promise. I '''promise'''. I can't be lost now..."
| |
− |
| |
− | '''Fiona: ''' She smiles, looking at the girl on her arms... a little taller than Fiona herself, and yet more boyish, less developed as a lady than the Solar herself... and pushes Days into a heart-felt hug, as a child, a sister... "Good. I am not letting go of you either.... I am going to keep you safe..." She says as she tip-toes to kiss the Raksha's forehead, the gold-and-dream coat covering her body changing leaves to thorns to make sure to keep the Wyld out of Fiona's body, at skin's length.
| |
− | | |
− | '''Child of Wyld Days: '''Days can do little more than hug back, nonetheless trembling a little. Perhaps she shouldn't have promised that. What if she fails? What if all those brave words come to nothing, and she fails Fiona? Why did she even have to speak in the first place? So many things to worry over...
| |
− | | |
− | "I'll... be fine. I just... have to get over this." She shivers a little at the kiss, more out of surprise than anything. "... I won't fail you when I'm not afraid."
| |
− | | |
− | '''Fiona: ''' Fiona begins to walk with Days, holding the Monkey-girl's hand and walking through the garden, closer to the tree of crystal, flanked by great mirrors... Fiona smiled at the monkey with her eyes, and dust begun to pour out of her natural wyld-warding coat, glittering. Glitter and Dust, the her that was the Child's spiritual mother, was there in a way, smiling... and then Fiona stopped, to look at the mirror-walls... and how they showed Days and herself. Many lives were frozen in reflections there. The proud, female monkey with the large bosom. The male warrior monkey. And on Fiona... the slave to the Vestal, which she would rather forget. And two others... "Glitter and Dust." She says, pointing at the Twilight, beautiful in traveler's clothes, a coat of an scavenger seeming so unassuming, a long viridian hair, and the trinkets that glittered so... "She was me once... and... and..."
| |
− | | |
− | "Festival... he killed me..."
| |
− | | |
− | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' "He is a Crusader. He yearns to see the world run red with mortal blood again. There are many, many like him. All of them dangerous, many of them hands of the Mad Princes beyond the Marches." Monkey looks away from the mirror, tail sagging. "... I am sorry."
| |
− | | |
− | '''Fiona: ''' The form of Festival appears there... on one of Days' rows, oddly enough, as if he was a reflection of the Young Raksha herself. Fiona walked closer to him, her tail not swishing anymore, but still, hung low, touching the image on the mirror with fear... "He killed me... I died..."
| |
− | | |
− | "... why?"
| |
− | | |
− | '''Child of Wyld Days: '''"Because he hates." Days... shrugs, weakly. "We are monsters, Fiona. Some are just more tolerable than others." Out of the corner of her eye, Days sees the reflection showing the Festival of Hearts... and the hairs on her neck rise. Fear is replaced by disgust replaced by hatred enough for the Monkey to turn to the mirror and punch at the Festival-reflection with all her might. "... but I am not him! '''I am not him! '''"
| |
− | | |
− | '''Fiona: ''' The Child is still unearthly strong, her punch enough to break the glass, cutting a little her knuckles, but leaving nothing where Festival's chest used to be, cracks running up and ruining his face.... Fiona wince, and looks at the reflections... noticing something peculiar. Glitter and Dust, the Twilight, is there twice... for her, and for Days...
| |
− | | |
− | Fiona's hand touches the Snow Monkey's shoulder, her voice soothing. "I know... I know. You are too sweet. You would not kill just because you hate, just because you feel like it. You saved Iselsis, you saved many in the Boil, you gave us presents..."
| |
− | | |
− | "But he... he is a part of you, isn't he?"
| |
− | | |
− | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' "Always. Always and forever."
| |
− | | |
− | Even in fear, Days finds it in her to spit on the ground in disgust. "... am I destined to be like him, then? Do raksha even have destinies? Last I heard, we don't... Fate only cares about what we do now. Funny, that..." Days' shoulders slump, and she sighs heavily. "... I'm useless right now, I know."
| |
− | | |
− | '''Fiona: ''' She walks closer to Days, hugging her from behind, arms encircling the monkey's chest and belly... "No, no, you are not. I... am not sure if you do have a destiny. You do not have one in Creation... but the Wyld has great gods too, doesn't it? It may have its own destinities, but..."
| |
− | | |
− | "We make our own destinies. Just being here, is probably not a Wyld-Destiny. Just being here defies it..." She looks at the pieces... and sees a woman in a great white and grees form-fitting clothing, with a great white cape and a very peculiar headress, a striking image with two great tools in her hands... "That is Rhiannon. It was me, too, so much longer ago... I wonder if I am destined to be her. She is so grand, so powerful... but there was so much sorrow too... I hope I do not have to live her sorrow... I have so much of my own."
| |
− | | |
− | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' There is a long pause, and for a moment the fear is gone, and the Child is safe in the arms of a friend, a creator, an ally. That feeling quickly passes, though, enveloped by undeniable jealousy. "... I envy that, in a way. Real emotions, real pain..."
| |
− | | |
− | '''Fiona: ''' And the Enchantress can do nothing but smile...
| |
− | | |
− | Yours' are not real? Who says so?"
| |
− | | |
− | She walks closer to Days, hugging her from behind, arms encircling the monkey's chest and belly... "No, no, you are not. I... am not sure if you do have a destiny. You do not have one in Creation... but the Wyld has great gods too, doesn't it? It may have its own destinities, but..."
| |
− | | |
− | "We make our own destinies. Just being here, is probably not a Wyld-Destiny. Just being here defies it..." She looks at the pieces... and sees a woman in a great white and grees form-fitting clothing, with a great white cape and a very peculiar headress, a striking image with two great tools in her hands... "That is Rhiannon. It was me, too, so much longer ago... I wonder if I am destined to be her. She is so grand, so powerful... but there was so much sorrow too... I hope I do not have to live her sorrow... I have so much of my own."
| |
− | | |
− | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' There is a long pause, and for a moment the fear is gone, and the Child is safe in the arms of a friend, a creator, an ally. That feeling quickly passes, though, enveloped by undeniable jealousy. "... I envy that, in a way. Real emotions, real pain..."
| |
− | | |
− | '''Fiona: ''' And the Enchantress can do nothing but smile...
| |
− | | |
− | Yours' are not real? Who says so?"
| |
− | | |
− | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' "Everything that I feel... it's cobbled together from what Creation says I '''should''' feel... that's how we work, how we learn. We basically raid the library and read for months on... end..." Monkey trails off as she looks at the wyldmirror, showing her last two forms... and her tail twitches. For a moment, Fiona can swear that she sees real dismay, true-to-life horror on her face as her jaw opens and nothing comes out at first. Finally... without warning, without any kindness to the woman holding her, Snow Monkey pulls away and brings both fists down at the mirror, face contorting in... rage and agony and passion and guilt and shame. Fearful, broken Monkey shows a moment of what could be best described as madness, shrieking wildly as fists pound and feet stomp.
| |
− | | |
− | "MONSTER! '''MONSTER! ''' '''''MONSTER!!! '''''
| |
− | | |
− | '''????: ''' ''monster monster monster''<br>
| |
− | ''monster monster monster''<br>
| |
− | ''master master master''
| |
− | | |
− | It is a chant, a chant of echoes, and then figures begin to appear on the broken glass about Monkey...
| |
− | | |
− | Girls, younger than Fiona, glassy-eyed and broken, wearing outfits of pure veils, collars with chains dangling from their necks...touching Monkey, and chanting. Milena, Anya, black and gonden hair, and words. Monster. Master.
| |
− | | |
− | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' As soon as Monkey realizes that what she's hearing isn't a lie, she freezes again, fur literally standing on end and eyes wide with... with... '''something''' as she beholds the two, broken, used, lost, likely inches from dream-eaten if the courtesan had been working on them. Monkey sees them, feels them, smells them, tastes their thin air of broken dream in the air.
| |
− | | |
− | Monkey reacts as if those words were barbs, their touch the purest of cold iron, shrinking away from them and whining pitifully. "... go away... I didn't... I did... I didn't want to... I wanted to... it was horrid good delicious agony hypocrite monster '''MONSTER'''!"
| |
− | | |
− | The once-brave Child of Wyld Days is left cowering before two wyldslaves, trembling pathetically.
| |
− | | |
− | '''Fiona: ''' "Go '''''away'''''!" Fiona calls to the Wyld-images, going to Days and holding her, pushing them back... and much like memories in mist, they simply disappear, but their words remain on Monkey's ears, pleading, pleading, reaching to him... without shame, without pain, without innocence, just as the monkey had made them...
| |
− | | |
− | Fiona only barely understands it. But she holds Monkey anyway...
| |
− | | |
− | "If you did... you won't do it anymore, right?" She smiles... "You have a second chance now..."
| |
− | | |
− | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' Monkey... yowls frightfully, shoving Fiona away... before she realizes what she's done and cowers again, on the verge of actual tears. "You... you... you don't understand, Fiona..."
| |
− | | |
− | She takes a moment, trying to drown out the ringing in her ears. "I came here... and I told them---'''I TOLD THEM! '''---... that I had a Heart, that I was going to save them, that I cared! And I did! And I didn't! You... you don't know what it tastes like, raw innocence..." Monkey practically drags herself to Fiona's feet, looking up at her. "... it is sweeter than any food, better than any one thing you can feel... a rare candy you can extract only once... and I did that. I was given the means, and I did it. And I loved it. I loved every moment with my Essence. I HATED IT! I hated every moment deep in what I pretend is my soul! How could I... how could I..."
| |
− | | |
− | The Child begins to weep, fingers digging into Fiona's ankles. "They trusted me. I should have fought her. I should have done everything I didn't... but I didn't. And I know I may do it again someday, Fiona. You don't understand the hunger! You can't... you have your dreams." She promptly lets go, hands over her head again. "... but it felt so right. So natural... so good. It wasn't even about fucking them... that just drew the dream out, brought it to term... and I did it. Me... a hero. I am a monster, Fiona... should I just stop pretending to be anyting but? Should I just stop fighting? Should I just prove everyone right and be just another mad faerie? What should I do? What?!"
| |
− | | |
− | Her eyes lock onto Fiona's again, cheeks shining and face trembling as a million feelings crawl along her countenance.
| |
− | | |
− | "Please tell me..."
| |
− | | |
− | '''Fiona: ''' Fiona hears... and Days can see her eyes filled with shock. She understands what Monkey did... and her lips curl in disgust. For a moment, her hands curl to fists... and she sees ready to launch a harsh piece to Days. "You... you did..."
| |
− | | |
− | But then, Days looks up... so broken... and there is no way she can say anything of the sort. Her anger softens for a moment, and she goes on one knee, cupping Monkey's face... "You saved my life. You saved the Boil when you warned us of Kodak. You saved us, Days... you are a Hero. You are. You have a second chance now, in this body... but you can't do that again, Days. You hear me? You can't... you have to be a hero, not a monster."
| |
− | | |
− | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' "You hate me. I felt it. I felt hate..." Days scoots back, away, still prostrate before Fiona, withdrawing from her hand. "I... I don't know... can I? What do I do when I'm hungry again? What do I do when I feel that urge? I've tried so hard to fight it, Fiona... Heaven knows I have. But I'll fail again... I know it. I'll hurt someone again, Fiona! Maybe you!" She rises, quickly, and her hands clamp onto Fiona's shoulders. "... don't think I haven't been tempted... the fear of dying doesn't make it go away... it just makes it behave..."
| |
− | | |
− | She quickly lets go, looking down at the broken wyldglass below her. "... I am the Child of Wyld Days, Fiona. I am raksha. I cannot deny this. But I will try to fight, try to be a hero. For you."
| |
− | | |
− | "I will certainly fail... but I will try."
| |
− | | |
− | '''Fiona: ''' She looks away from the Child for a moment...
| |
− | | |
− | "I don't hate you. But I am ''angry'', yes. I have seen monsters who break people... and you shouldn't be one..."
| |
− | | |
− | "But people change, and you can too. I... I heard you could just drink from the ambient... being together with us all, in our fights, in our loves, wouldn't be enough? Just... be closer to us, be there, more. You should have been in the meeting... Alex made such a speech, Moon and Gennadi called him on it, Opal and Valencia and the Pale Angel were almost worshipful of him, Iselsis broke it all to announce she was a turn-coat traitor-plant and was defecting... can't you just drink from it...?" She wishes to ask about what Days has thought... how she has thought of hurt her... but she does not.
| |
− | | |
− | Not yet.
| |
− | | |
− | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' "It is thin. It... suffices, but it is so thin, so teasing... so empty." Monkey remains where she is, the trembling dying down somewhat. "It can be done, but... I will hunger, and supping on scraps won't be enough." She wrings her hands for a moment. "Fiona..."
| |
− | | |
− | Monkey looks up. "I'm not a person. I can change, but... I don't know how long I can deny what I need. I just want to know that... if I fall, if I lose myself... you would be gracious enough to destroy me quickly, yes? I need to know..."
| |
− | | |
− | '''Fiona: '''"No."
| |
− | | |
− | She says simply, her face turning so very serious, so very hard...
| |
− | | |
− | "You are not getting this easy way out. If you fall, if you lose yourself... I am going into whatever wyld holds you and drag you back to Creation, drag you back to sanity, kicking and screaming if need be. I am Glitter and Dust, and I am not letting my memories become a monster to be put down." She only half realises how she holds Monkey's arm now, as if to stop her from going away. "Do you understand?"
| |
− | | |
− | '''Child of Wyld Days: '''Whatever Days had planned to say dies in her throat, and there is only the helpless little monkey girl, who wilts under the might of the sure and certain Sun.
| |
− | | |
− | "... I understand. Please forgive me..."
| |
− | | |
− | '''Fiona: ''' Fiona kisses young Days' lips, bringing her up with her... "I do. You know, I like you like this. You look my age... but you are right? You are even younger than me..." She trails off, looking at what is left of the mirror... and the woman int he great cape of white and viridian, appearing to form wings as it falls down her body... "Rhiannon..."
| |
− | | |
− | And then, the mirror explodes, shards falling everywhere around them...
| |
− | | |
− | * A white whip, looking like a dragon whose scales fade to viridian in its edges coils, a weapon, but alive, screeching. And then a form steps out of the glass... long blonde locks nearly covering the form of the Thaumathurge, the lady Days had saved before, Archren... over a flowing dress of pure silver, framed with astrological wheels and words... her eyes still pools of power, motes glowing out of them, and every step of her crushing glass underfoot... her face tense, serious, murderous eyes taking on both girls...
| |
− |
| |
− | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' Monkey watches her, shudders before her, cowers uselessly next to Fiona, immediately cowed by the woman she'd simply found an ingrate before the madness fell upon her. Now, she seemed a thing of destruction and decay, coming to make her pay for her numerous sins. Thus, the Child cowers, whimpers, and quietly awaits the inevitable.
| |
− | | |
− | Deep down, though, the broken remnants of Victorious Monkey scream at her, demanding she rise and face her destiny. It is all that Valor, lost as it is, can do at this time.
| |
− | | |
− | '''Fiona: ''' Fiona watches Archren stride forth, taking worried steps back, touching Monkey behind her... shaking. She was totally... unprepared, surprised... her eyes open wide as she looks at the Geomancer, now wielding such power towards them.. "Wha... who.... what are you...?"
| |
− | | |
− | '''Archren: ''' Archren walks closer, serene as death, the dragon vanishing into simple lines of white and virdian essence, lashing about Archren, coming from her hand, where it is birthed from a fountain of essence foam... "My name is Archren. I was the one who brought you back to the world of living, little Solar."
| |
− | | |
− | "I heard you, here. I was... curious."
| |
− | | |
− | "I heard of you, of Glitter and Dust, of... Rhiannon."
| |
− | | |
− | She comes closer, her eyes and mouth leaking the sheer ''power'' countained in her frame, turquoise gems shining on the back of her fists... "I felt it before, but so faint. I felt it before, and if I was at my prime, I would have realised it, and destroyed you then and there, instead of saving you. You are Rhiannon. And you must die."
| |
− |
| |
− | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' Monkey continues to cower, and the Valor still within her continues to scream at her, telling her to rise, to defend, to fight, to be a hero.
| |
− | | |
− | ''The lure does not work now... I am already broken. ''
| |
− | | |
− | '''FIGHT. '''
| |
− | | |
− | ''I will be useless against someone so powerful, someone of Earth... ''
| |
− | | |
− | '''FIGHT! '''
| |
− | | |
− | ''Maybe... maybe I simply deserve to be erased. Maybe this is Heaven's punishment for an upstart raksha... ''
| |
− | | |
− | '''FIGHT, DAMN YOU! '''
| |
− | | |
− | Monkey twitches... and gently grips Owl and Serpent, still trembling as she stands before Fiona, unable to shake her fear but unable to back down. "Over my dead body."
| |
− | | |
− | '''Fiona: ''' "You are not the first to try..."
| |
− | | |
− | And thus, Fiona spreads her arms, her chains tingling, spreading, touching the chaos about her and her own soul, and she... shifts her form, all of the shadows on her flame becoming multihued like the dream-butterflies on her essence, as her very form becomes dreamliked, flowing like blood...
| |
− |
| |
− | '''Archren: ''' Archren sighs. Wasn't this Raksha in Bedlam? This is just not how things work!
| |
− | | |
− | But she darts foward anyway, the whip of pure essence moving to bat the Child away...
| |
− | | |
− | "If you wish, then... I shall. Over your dead body!"
| |
− |
| |
− | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' "To think... I saved your life. And now... now it has to be like this."
| |
− | | |
− | Tears drop. Glittering dust swirls. Light explodes from the monkey, and she is in motion to defend herself, to save herself, to stand and fight once more... even in the grasp of Bedlam.
| |
− | | |
− | "Why? Tell me why!"
| |
− | | |
− | '''Archren: ''' ... and Archren throws her whip, letting it dissolve on essence-foam, touching the Raksha... and ''ripping'' it out of her, the tears and dust filling Archren's form instead, as she closes her eyes for a moment with the ecstasy, the rush that is to be like that.... "I a master of essence, Raksha. Even to the untamed ones..."
| |
− |
| |
− | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' ... and that shakes Monkey visibly, her somewhat steady stance losing much of its sureness.
| |
− | | |
− | "... you... why? How could you..."
| |
− |
| |
− | '''Archren: ''' "Essence. Geomancy. My little Soul-Foam Serpent can strike at it, bring it all to me. This is Solar Magic, this is the power of Rhiannon. I am like you, Monkey. I have met my maker. I have." She nods, the whip-serpent shifting about her in sinuous glances now, dripping the tears, covered in dust. "... and I have to kill her."
| |
− |
| |
− | '''Fiona: ''' Fiona begun the movements to bring on her own dreamlike form, to flow like blood... and then stopped. If Archren could do it... if she could... then pehaps... pehaps she would do the same on her? No, she could not risk it... and thus, she takes a hold of Monkey's arm, pushing her...
| |
− | | |
− | "Run, monkey, '''Run'''!"
| |
− | | |
− | "Don't you control those things? Shape us away, or something!"
| |
− |
| |
− | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' "I... I do. I do! But it's not as simple as just moving us... this is one place, not the Wyld itself!" Monkey pulls her hand away... just long enough to look at Archen, nonetheless trembling. "... leave Fiona be, and content yourself with your own determination!" She waves...
| |
− | | |
− | And there is only Archen. Surrounded by mirrors millions of them, each reflecting her appearance... and in each one, she sees the ugliness of her soul, the spiritual stains that her offensive have written on her face, a brush dipped in the blackest ink. It is terrifying, it is humbling, it is disgusting... a barrage of feelings that crowd around Archen, threatening to crush her down to a little pebble of withered spirit. All those face, marked, scarred, laughing, frowning, crying... all the darkness reflected back at its source, clawing at her with nails of regret and disgust.
| |
− |
| |
− | '''Archren: ''' Archren closes her eyes, even as she is surrounded by the immensity of mirrors...
| |
− | | |
− | And then lashes out, calmly, breaking them as she goes.
| |
− | | |
− | "You are good, Child... but it takes more than that to break me!"
| |
− | | |
− | '''Fiona: ''' Fiona runs with Days, as Archren is occupied with the mirrors...
| |
− | | |
− | Past stairs, into more woods, hoping she is losing their trail, with the cover of the woods in the park...
| |
− | | |
− | "That... that was great! Did it... work, or is she right...?" Fiona asks, panting...
| |
− | | |
− | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' "It... it did not." Days runs, not showing any sort of physical fatigue, although the emotional strain...
| |
− | | |
− | "I am sorry... I should have tried harder. She is stronger than either of us expected..."
| |
− | | |
− | '''Fiona: ''' "She... is. I saw what she did to you... she could do it to me... rip essence..."
| |
− | | |
− | Her breaths come, panting, as she looks around... the passion fruits far above them a mark of the Courtesan that Days knew to be close by... but also knew she would hide, wanting nothing to do with this. It was all quiet... too quiet, the sound of glass not heard anymore... "You think we missed her...?"
| |
− | | |
− | As if to answer it, a bush explodes behind them... and it is the whip, as a serpent.
| |
− | | |
− | All white, with shining viridian eyes.
| |
− | | |
− | The eyes look straight at them...
| |
− | | |
− | And Fiona urges the Child foward.
| |
− | | |
− | "'''''Run! '''''"
| |
− | | |
− | | |
− | ----
| |
− | | |
− | * - Back to [[GoldenCat/EighthMovement|Eighth Movement]]
| |
− | * - Back to [[GoldenCat/DanceOfAngels|A Dance of Angels]]
| |