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| − | * - Back to [[GoldenCat/SixthMovement|Sixth Movement]]
| + | #REDIRECT [[ADanceOfAngels]] |
| − | * - Back to [[GoldenCat/DanceOfAngels|A Dance of Angels]]
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| − | == End of Beliefs ==
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| − | '''Cael: ''' After doing his part in making sure the dead were dealt with, and examining the ground in all directions for a hundred miles to see that no more dead were marching anywhere near the city, Cael took his leave and took to the air once more, winging his way at a measured pace towards the fountain of air aspected essence still burning into the sky, making it's way toward the mountains.
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| − | '''Narrator: ''' Under the cold opression of Vorpal's searing white aura of fear, the undead rout.
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| − | The Windians that are left break their remaining formations, and the Spire calms down after the spirits flee.
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| − | It is... an odd kind of calm. The one after such a crushing storm. The noises still seem to deafen Cael, he still feels the heat, the ashes and petals of the battle in his skin, unmarred as he is...
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| − | | |
| − | Whisper herself is trying to conceal her anima as much as she can, running through trees by striking them, leaving a trail of crushed branches and spilled blood as she goes...
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| − |
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| − | '''Cael: ''' Cael's own anima, never driven to totemic heights despite the battle he had fought has since receeded to be merely a burning brand on his forehead, surrounded by unknowable, unreadable words. And so he leaves behind the strange calm of the battlefield, casting his eyes about the great plains in the north, looking first for a glow on the horizon, and then a forest, following with his eyes a trail of body and disturbance ...
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| − | | |
| − | The dead didn't bleed, after all.
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| − |
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| − | '''Narrator: ''' And he sees it perfectly, the will o' wisp through the trees, her trail... she is wounded, careless, leaving a trail Cael has no problem at all in following. He can perfectly see where she is going, to the valley beween two nearby mounts, in the heart of a patch of woods, so both mounts and trees can hide her light, and her wounded form....
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| − | | |
| − | '''Cael: ''' Cael flies far swifter than her wounded form, and higher than she can easily look back and up, especially through the trees and so soon he has overtaken her, searching the forest below for a place he would be best to wait for her.
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| − | | |
| − | He almost misses it, and that's what suggests it to him. A waterfall in the forest, the trees growing over it almost hiding it. The cool water would be a tonic to her wounds, and the sheltered nature of the area would make her feel safe enough to stop here. It was ideal ... as long as she didn't suspect his presence here.
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| − | | |
| − | He called out softly "Goddess of this river, a Solar Wind would as a favour of you, if you would show yourself to him." wrapping the call in some motes of essence, an offering direct to the goddess.
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| − |
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| − | '''Narrator: ''' A figure comes from the river, then, features made of water, a dress made of light's reflection in it, leaves that flow in the current adorning her hair that falls like the watterfall itself... like the great veil of a bride, it goes on and disappear in the water, without end. "It has been long since I met one so polite and educated as you, Solar Wind." She says with a courtsy. "What do you want of me?"
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| − | '''Cael: ''' Cael gives her a small bow in thanks, his posture conveying that the compliment is well recieved and appreciated.
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| − | "It has been a long time since I have seen a river spirit so beautiful as you too, Goddess of the River. There is someone coming through the forest ... a child of Mela. She is hurt and she will stop here to tend her wounds ... I would ask you to hide me until she arrives."
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| − | | |
| − | '''Narrator: ''' "Why, your prayers have made my day, my dear Quicksilver Falcon... and it has been a long, long time since a being of your station... and a man so beautiful... has come this way." She opsn her arms, smiling... "Please, come. It will be my pleasure to hold you until your Dragoness comes."
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| − | | |
| − | * Cael steps foward into the Goddess' arms.
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| − | '''Narrator: ''' Into her arms, Cael is held by the water, not a single droplets leaving him wet... but feeling the dampness all around him, the cold of the water and the warmth of the river's beating heart by having him around her... trying to warm him as she held him, tightly, much more tightly than she should...
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| − | | |
| − | And through the mirror of water, he sees Whisper coming. Now, she is no more a sillhouette of shadows with a beating heart of violet in the shape of a flower. Now, she is a woman of night-black hair, whirlwing in her own winds, deep violet eyes, and milky pale skin... all cut by his wordds, still sporting cuts in their shape. Her attire is a practical black form-fitting suit, open as much as it can be to allow her freedom of movement... she kneels close to the water, and begins cleaning her wounds, the dirt and ashes of the battlefield dirtying her...
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| − | '''Cael: ''' Cael lets her relax, start to clean herself and then he kisses the water around him.
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| − | "Thank you for your help", he whispers. "I will have to come back and visit sometime ... but until I do..." He draws a golden ring from his pocket, set with 3 sapphires, drawing her hand from the water and slipping it on her finger.
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| − | "Farewell for now."
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| − | | |
| − | He steps out onto the shore, castemark blazing still, wrapped in the soft warm glow of the essence with his prayer, light tracing up and down the golden words on his long coat.
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| − | | |
| − | "Hello, once again."
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| − | | |
| − | '''Iron Whisper: ''' She startles. As he comes out, she stumbles, falling back, surprised, eyes wide, her hands running to her knives...
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| − | | |
| − | Far and adrenaline kick into her, her eyes going from wide to slitted, defiant..
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| − | .
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| − | '''Cael: ''' Cael smiles at her, his hands open to show he bore no arms. While it wasn't strictly true, the gesture was none the less reassuirng to most people. His voice, when he speaks is measured and calm, and filled with the warmth of the sun.
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| − | | |
| − | "Relax, please. I do not wish to kill you, I merely wish to talk for now."
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| − | | |
| − | '''Iron Whisper: '''She begins getting up, the daggers still in her hands, defiant.
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| − | | |
| − | "As it that wasn't just as dangerous with your kind..."
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| − | '''Cael: ''' Cael makes no move to stop her standing, no look of reproach in his eyes for the daggers she still holds.
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| − | "A conversation by the side of the river is more dangerous than razor edged essence? Do you wish for death, Daughter of Mela? Are you one of those who would give her life for the numberless undead hordes?"
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| − |
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| − | '''Iron Whisper: ''' Dark Delirium, her daggers of pure black smoke, shift again, and disappear on her hands, something akin to stars being seen deep within the smoke daggers... as they cease being daggers, and become just smoke, disappearing on her arms, disappearing within her bracers. The live bracers, some unspekable creature of sickly yellow joints and black, chitinous carapace whose back opens to accept her glowing hearthstones. As the smoke vanishes she takes a little bit of her hair that is sticking to her forehead - too busy cleaning her wounds to clean her face of the sweat and dirt yet... "I am not there for the numberless undead hordes. I am there for the General. And for the Virtuous Master. And for their dream. I could care less about the skeletons. I do not wish for death, however. Or I would not have run."
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| − | | |
| − | "I felt it when the General died. ''He'' would never run..."
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| − | '''Cael: ''' "That is good, that you do not wish for death." Cael says, with a faint look of approval on his face.
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| − | "He did not run, no. He fought bravely and well right up until the very last blow, trying to strike out even as he finally fell. And before that, he offered us a cesation of violence, a chance for us both to withdraw before fight got worse on either side. I can understand why you followed him, why you believed in him, but he is no more now."
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| − | | |
| − | "Tell me though, of this dream. Tell me why you followed it, why he followed it."
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| − |
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| − | '''Iron Whisper: ''' "So, the Pale Angel got the upper hand. I should have known... the Lover won." She sighs, letting her weight fall against a nearby tree, trying not to think of... trying not to think, much. It was all lost for the moment and she was before a man who could kill her with no problems at all... "My dream? I... I was doing the right thing, I suppose. With the Bishop, with the General, with the Virtuous Master. They found me as a petty assassin, gave me a purpose, to fight for their heaven. The master taught me all I know. The General gave me the thrill of my life, doing the killings for him... killing so many a great god and sorcerer... I was doing the right thing. I belonged somewhere."
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| − | | |
| − | Far as Cael can tell, she is telling the truth - she does it for a chance to belong, to do the right thing in her eyes... for the Underworld. He sees as she lived in a world of people who could do nothing before the great. She became one of the great ones herself, but... something was missing. So many people suffering all around her, and she could just... she always thought she could just be one of them. But on the Underworld... they all have powers.
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| − | | |
| − | They are all great, each and every one of the ghosts. But more than that, for the thrill she feels as she helps the deathknights fight against all odds. To fight such great foes. He can see the moment she received this purpose - when she first met the General, whom she admired and even loved so... who showed her greatness, and purpose. True purpose in her life... and not the least, the love she holds for her 'virtuous master', one whose flare is ot too different from Alexsei's...
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| − | | |
| − | '''Cael: ''' "And yet now you have no-one to lead you, no General to follow and your dream, your heaven, it is a lie ... but a subtle one."
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| − | Cael says, looking at the woman as she leans on the tree.
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| − | "The bishop wishes for all to die, all to know of his religeon, for then all will be happy, yes? Everyone can use the simple magics and no-one dies and everyone will live forever in equality? That will never happen, even if he wins."
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| − | | |
| − | "Every ghost you have met is your equal?<br>
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| − | Every ghost you have met can do all that you might?<br>
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| − | Every ghost you have met can know all the feelings you have known?<br>
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| − | Every ghost you have met knows happiness?
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| − | | |
| − | ...or are they simply content?<br>
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| − | ...or are they simply echoes?<br>
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| − | ...or are they simply dreaming?
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| − | Will they ever match you, match the Bishop match the Virtuous Master, or will you and the Bishop and the Virtuous Master have to join them in the true death, as ghosts themselves ... for their Heaven will not be equal without that, will not be true. It will just be a sad, grey replica of the world they seek to avoid, without even the hope of rebirth, of the cleansing lethe allows."
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| − | "There is no life in the land of the dead. There is no change. There is nothing new. There is nothing that thrils."
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| − | | |
| − | "Their Heaven is stagnation and one that you must die to join."
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| − | '''Iron Whisper: ''' She hears his words... and let them sink in. It was the first time she had someone give her. such a speech... she had talked with friends, with people in the church... and he made his point. "No... they are not. They are strong, but... not like me. It is why I ran... there is no way I would lose my life, yet... but... I cannot remember my past lives. No one can. A gray replica is better to have your personality washed off of you like paint out of a building, for another one to use, Windwraith...."
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| − | "Must be easy for a Solar to know he will leave on..."
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| − | | |
| − | "That replica gives people power, greater than beinjg in the mud, and gives them... eternal life."
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| − | | |
| − | "To rise form the mud if they so want..."
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| − |
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| − | '''Cael: ''' "Is it?<br>
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| − | Is it really?<br>
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| − | What use is being a replica if your memories cannot fill you with joy?<br>
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| − | What use is being a replica if you cannot know the thrill of the new?<br>
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| − | What use is being a replica?<br>
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| − | Is it good to know you ''were'' once vibrant?<br>
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| − | Is it good to know you ''were'' once fresh?<br>
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| − | Is it good to know you ''were'' once powerful?<br>
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| − | I do not think it is. I do not think you do either.<br>
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| − | If you cannot accept the death you seek to bring in others, you are nothing but a hypocrite and a sham."
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| − | | |
| − | "You think I have it easy as a Solar? You think I live on in a perfect progression? You think there is no change?<br>
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| − | Have you ever woken and not recognised your own face that you have worn for all your days?<br>
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| − | Have you ever met someone and know that you have lived a thousand years with them ... and never met them before?<br>
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| − | Have you ever been held accountable for something you did in another life, another millilenium?"
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| − | | |
| − | "The cleansing of lethe is not a horror, is not a punishment, it is a cleansing, a new start, a fresh start, a new chance to live and breathe and thrill and know joy ... or not. This world is not happiness and light either, I know that. It is something I want to change, something I will change, something I will write into the world itself if I have to."
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| − | '''Iron Whisper: ''' "Isn't it?"
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| − | "Is it so horrible to be the continuation of something so old and great? My Deathknight peers... they used it to their advantage. They enslaved their old flames, they reforged their old pacts to their new allegiances... it was their advantage. As I would use my old allegiances when I became a ghost. It is not as horrible as you make it sound... I talked to ghosts, I worked with them, they lose much... but are still themselves..."
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| − |
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| − | '''Cael: ''' "You speak of the good of enslaving lovers ... surely, if they were the same, there would be no need for the chains? You speak of the good of twisting old pacts ... you would like it if in a thousand years of your life as a ghost, someone claimed you through a deal struck long ago?You speak of the good of continueing as a lesser copy of yourself ... and you will always be that lesser copy. You will always know that loss.
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| − | Would you want an eternity of loss?
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| − | | |
| − | Will your eternity ever place you above the ones now above you? the ones who have lived as ghost for longer?"
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| − | | |
| − | He looks at her then, and he is hope and sunlight and glory as he starts to speak again.
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| − | "In my future, people will still know loss, I will not lie to you, I will not say there will be no loss, there will be no pain.<br>
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| − | In my future, though, people will know joy.<br>
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| − | In my future, though, people will know thrills,<br>
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| − | In my future, though, people will know ''life'',<br>
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| − | and they will know death,<br>
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| − | and they will know rebirth, <br>
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| − | and they will know sorrow, I am sure.<br>
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| − | But those that wish to rise out of the mud, they will be able too.<br>
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| − | Those that wish to live new lives, fresh and clean, they will be able too.<br>
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| − | Those that wish to live forever, as unchanging replicas, they will be able too.
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| − | In my future, you do not have to die and live out eternity as a pale phantom.
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| − | Will you not join me?"
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| − | '''Iron Whisper: ''' "I..."
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| − | Violet eyes watch Cael, moved... his words spearing her soul. Violet eyes close, holding back tears.
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| − | "I...."
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| − | She holds herself, seeming so lost, leaning against a tree, the darkening of the world around her as the night falls making her black dress blend with the shadows, as with her face, that vanishes in her jet-black hair as she turns her face away from the Windwraith... "I... what if I do not? What..."
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| − | "I need time to think..."
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| − | '''Cael: ''' "If you do or if you do not ... all I wish from you is your word that you will not harm me or those I care for, and that you will not knowingly work for the Bishop, the Virtuous Master or thier minions."
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| − | "If you wish to work for me, I would have it be of your own will, not bound at my side with chains woven from Oaths."
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| − | '''Iron Whisper: ''' "So, you ''are'' letting me live..." She turns around with tear-filled eyes, staining her makeup...
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| − | "I... can swear it. To the end of this war, at least. You want me to not be on your case later, you work not to be mean enough to me I wouldn't take a contract." She says, trying to keep some poise on her voice... "But other than that... let me think I need to think..."
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| − | her hands raise towards him. She knows how it works...
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| − | '''Cael: ''' "You will give your word not to harm me or those I care about, beyond the end of the war. Believe me that while I am willing to let you live, I would kill you and eat the soul you left behind to protect those I have promised to protect."
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| − | "I will not endanger their lives to your whims years from now."
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| − | "In return, when you have had your time to think, and I do not wish to deprive you of that, which ever answer you give to me, yes or no, you will have money to live for a time and a one-time offer of transport, anywhere within a thousand miles."
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| − | '''Iron Whisper: ''' "And what if you or yours wish to kill me them? You wish me to just lay down and die?"
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| − | "The General came to me respecting me, you wish to take my fangs away..."
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| − | The thing on her forearms writhes. It did not make that spider happy.
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| − | | |
| − | "Well then, go ahead. I promise not to harm you. But how will I know those you care about?"
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| − | '''Cael: ''' ''How poorly you think of me.... ''<br>
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| − | "I do not wish for such a thing, would not ask for such an oath from anyone I wished to work with ... but I will not have you hunting them, hunting me, yes?"
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| − | "As for those I care of ... you will know them as those I fought alongside, those that are welcome guests on the Zephyr, you will know them by my kanji, you will know if you watch those you hunt for any length of time and you will know if you work with me, I am sure."
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| − | '''Iron Whisper: ''' The spider looked up, tentatively. Her anima dried the tears away. She tried to forget the existential conflicts.
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| − | For now.
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| − | "A promise not to hunt is one I could make. A spider knows when to stay away from dangerous prey."
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| − | | |
| − | "Such as yourself."
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| − | '''Cael: ''' He nods to her in agreement then, extending a smooth, tanned hand.
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| − | "Your word, then."
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| − | '''Iron Whisper: ''' She lifts her delicate hand to his', the legs of the thing on her arms receeding from Cael's light. Her fingers entwine in his', and she looks into his eyes. "This Iron Spider of Shadows, Silence and Broken Hearts promises not to hunt you or yours', from this day foward, until te end of her life." She says, solemnly.
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| − | '''Cael: ''' "And the second part?"
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| − | '''Iron Whisper: ''' "There is a second part, Windwraith? I... seem to have lost it." She says with a shadow of a smile.
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| − | '''Cael: ''' "Your promise that even if you do not work for me, you will not work for them, Iron Spider." he says, gently, but in a tone that does not brook contradiction,
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| − | '''Iron Whisper: ''' "... and until the end of this war, I shall not work with the Church of the Shining One again until this war is over, unless I am to protect my loved ones." She adds, the shadow of a smile still there.
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| − | '''Cael: ''' ''Then I will have to find a place for you far from the citadel. ''<br>
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| − | ''I will not have you protecting him, betraying us. ''
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| − | | |
| − | "Let it be witnessed then, by the Heavens above." <br>
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| − | Calling on Heaven.<br>
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| − | Calling on Power.<br>
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| − | Calling on Words.
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| − | Brilliant feathers write the oath into the world.<br>
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| − | Sealed.
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| − | '''Iron Whisper: ''' The light makes Sarut recoil even further, making Iron Whisper wince a bit... and then it is done. She takes her hand away, looking at it as golden words vanish from the air, as her hand seems to... smoke with the afterglow of power... "Held in the web of heaven now, am I? I will have to learn how to walk in it, I suppose..."
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| − | | |
| − | "So, what now?"
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| − | | |
| − | '''Cael: ''' "Now, I do my best to make you heal a little faster, I give you tent, clothing."
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| − | | |
| − | "And then I leave you to think."
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| − | "What happens after that is up to you."
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| − | '''Iron Whisper: ''' She sits back in a bench, not much concerned by her black dress, touching the ripped parts of it, the wounds to her sides... and wincing a little. "That is... quite a bit of help to an enemy like me. I have not said I am at your side yet... your words were sweet, but..."
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| − | | |
| − | ".. you are the one who did this." She said, lifting a blood-stained hand.
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| − | '''Cael: ''' "I would do it again, if I had to." He says evenly "The kanji do not cut people unintentionally."
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| − | | |
| − | "I would still do what I can for you. It seems needlessly cruel otherwise, to leave someone midway between life and death, when you could move them either way."
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| − | '''Iron Whisper: ''' "So that is how you work, then? You will meddle with each and every person around you one way or the other?" She says, with a short, pained laugh. "Well then... come on. Who am I to say no to your help?"
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| − | '''Cael: ''' "Don't we all, in one way or another? In thought, if not in deed."
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| − | Cael asks of her as he steps closer, gently pressing fingers to her side, a carress along the edge of the wound that should hurt, but does not, a feeling of warmth pushing into the body, solar magic aiding the dragon's blood now, wounds closing faster .. not that fast, but faster.
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| − | "It is not much, but it is what I can do." He says simply, stepping back, his hand already clean of her blood. He makes a gesture then, and the words flow from his hand, dense and fast, coallesing into reality. Black dress. Tent. Small Essentials.
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| − | "These, I leave for you to use or no."
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| − | | |
| − | "And now I will leave you, with your thoughts. I wait to hear from you again, whatever your answer will be."
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| − | | |
| − | "Farewell."
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| − | | |
| − | And then he is gone, in a flurry of golden poems, golden feathers.
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| − | '''Iron Whisper: ''' "F... farewell, Windwraith..."
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| − | She watches him leave, watches feathers and poems... she picks a fruit, and as she eats, she closes her eyes... and thinks. Thinks of all he has told her, of the pale shadows of life that is the underworld, of the tricks, of the ashes, of the problems with having past lives... she thought of them... she thought of the General, of his stern mien, of his harsh words, of his unwavering will and dedication to his ideals... she thought of her ideals, her roots, her life...
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| − | | |
| − | ... and she cried.
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| − | '''Cael: ''' He does not fly back to the camp, though he does send a message for those there. The hunt took him further than expected, he will be back in the morning.
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| − | Then he lands by the river, trailing his fingers in the water. A carress.
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| − | "Goddess of the River," he calls out softly, "I find myself out quite late, and with nowhere to say. I wonder if I might .. impose on you for the night."
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| − | ----
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| − | * - Back to [[GoldenCat/SixthMovement|Sixth Movement]]
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| − | * - Back to [[GoldenCat/DanceOfAngels|A Dance of Angels]]
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