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| − | * - Back to [[GoldenCat/SecondMovement|Second Movement]]
| + | #REDIRECT [[ADanceOfAngels]] |
| − | * - Back to [[GoldenCat/DanceOfAngels|A Dance of Angels]]
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| − | == Ivory Garden ==
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| − | <b>Cael:</b> Cael finished his run through the trees with a leap, sunlight on his forehead, white coat trailing behind him, landing in a crouch, the coat spilling around him.
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| − | "Stop!" his voice cuts across the clearing, clear and calm as he flows to his feet, a glow visible beneath the coast as the tattoos start to glow.
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| − | "I know not who you are, but you will not harm the Prince any more. You may leave now, or we will fight." His voice is filled with all the inescapable warmth of the sun in the Sourthern desert. His arms spread a little, his fingers tracing out golden patterns on the air, readying himself to fight with words of heroism and valor.
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| − | <b>Stranger:</b> "The Windwraith." The man in the clearing turns around, slowly. Boredom on his face, almost a taunt. Tensing of his muscles, however, show the man readying himself. "So, that is how it is. You have chosen your sides."
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| − | Another sword of bone coming out of his arms, eyes close for a moment... and open again, looking at Cael in the dispassionate way of a killer. "Regrettably, we shall fight."
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| − | * Cael nods his head "And you are?"
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| − | <b>Disciple of Ivory Blossoms:</b> "I am the Disciple of Ivory Blossoms."
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| − | Hands tighten around swords of bone.
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| − | "I would advise leaving the prince's side, but it would do no good anymore." He lets out what might almost be a sigh, “I should have known you would have become... stubborn.”
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| − | He moves then. fast! As fast as Cael himself... swords of bone coming towards the windwraith, slashing once, twice.
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| − | <b>Cael:</b> Cael nods to acknowledge this "Choices have been made, yes."
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| − | Then he flows, his body moving like a dream in the orchard, leaping backwards and away, the sword slices falling far short of him, leaves blow up around him by the speed of his retreat.
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| − | "You attack well and move with grace, I am impressed." Cael says as the second bone blade stops moving. "Now let us see what your defences are like."
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| − | As he hurls a pair of kanji towards the abyssal, subtle words twisted with a depth of meaning, intended to entangle and confuse the man before him, impeeding his movement, slowing his blade...
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| − | <b>Disciple of Ivory Blossoms:</b> "Interesting weapon." The Disciple's anima begins to shine about him once again... the same colorless shine you had seen before. Exploding in neutral white, petals all around him... appearing out of thin air. White petals... joining around his blade, filling the air to obscure the words as he moves with precision to stop golden words with ivory petals...
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| − | One of the petals come against Cael's hand... and breaks, breaks like a thin roasted piece... it is not truly petals, no... rasps of bone, so thin and beautiful they seem like petals. And more and more about Cael...
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| − | Surrounded by a whirlwind of white death. They obscure the eyes, they are there when Cael tries to move... everywhere. Looking about, Cael seems himself on a garden of bone, trees growing like human bones ever upward and hearts as their fruits... and then he comes towards Cael, once again two strikes... strikes he can barely even see, amidst the petals, amidst the garden.. ivory himself a pale shadow in his home.
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| − | <b>Cael:</b> Cael closes his eyes against the distractions of the bone flowers blowing about him. When your senses cannot be trusted, they must be ignored. Thus it is simply the magic woven into his body that guides his first dodge, effortlessly stepping back.
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| − | Then the true nature of the attack became apparent, and before the second attack, Cael dissolved into shadow, only flickering back into reality when the second blow had passed through the space he occupied only moments before.
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| − | Cael has his eyes open when he reappears, scribing another sigil on the glowing light of his oppenents anima, then leaping backwards to put some space between the pair.
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| − | As he leaps he casts the sigil, actually three words wrapped up in one another, splitting as they fly toward the disciple, at once a complement to his skill and a critisism of his nature.
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| − | He lands upon one of the drifting bone flowers, swaying slightly in the air as it drifts down.
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| − | <b>Disciple of Ivory Blossoms:</b> The petals join around the disciple once again... his every movement swaying them. Seeing the words, he begins to move in a kata - the blood drippling from the hearts coating some of the petals, surrounding him in a show of white and red... as he stops each and every word in turn, delicately and precisely, and as he stops, the flowers fall to the ground, forming the path of souls between him and Cael, a shape that spells of begginings and ends... the Malfean garden vanishing about them.
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| − | "Very good. You are a worthy opponent, Windwraith. I expected no less. But this ends now."
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| − | "Next time. The Garden of Ivory and its destiny entwines us now." With his words, a path of stones on a nonexistant garden can be seen for a moment, a connection in false Fate... which was always there, always, since the moment there was a Disciple. "By Ivory, sorrow, blood, our fates are one.. as they were before, as they are now. Next time."
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| − | But then...
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| − | Leaves, sharp as fine steel, come to him. Effortlessly, he swats them away, and turn to the newcomer. Scarlet lands close to Cael, then looks at the Prince... rushing towards him...
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| − | Behind Cael, footsteps. the animas almost fade, and besides the trail of souls on his feet, the world returns to normal. Wind passes between Cael and the Disciple, and he looks behind Cael... people coming. Many people. "The boy surely distracted me. And I have lost too much time here. Next time then, Windwraith. And if you mantain your position, it will come. Little can be done, after all... the garden entwines us, now. Just as blood and fate always did" He begins to explode in pale light, inwardly, becoming... as a tree in the garden of bones.
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| − | In the Malfean garden where the Disciple trained, some trees live too long... growing as human bones, seeking out in grotesque ways... until their time has come. then, they begin to crumble under their own weight... but, on their insides, they break, each step at a time... in a thousand razor-shapr needles.
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| − | They do not crumble - the beating heart of the garden allows them not to crumble, but to end in an spite to all life, and, in a strong beat, all tits force comes within the old tree. And it explodes outward, countless bone fragments seeking the heart-fruits in the garden. And, when the dust clears... there is nothing where the tree used to be.
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| − | And likewise, the Disciple is gone.
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| − | <b>Cael:</b> "Then I shall see you next time, Disciple. My answer will be the same, and we shall fight another battle of light and petal, and word and bone."
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| − | Then he shatters into glittering words, the torrent of needles passing through the space he occupied like thin air, reforming untouched when they have passed. And then he starts to run for the Prince.
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| − | <b>Orchid:</b> Scarlet comes out of a tree where she hid, coming to Alex... holding him... touching his forehead with her lips... orchids coming over the boy, appearing from nowhere...
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| − | Life begins to return to his face, which is... pale. the large blade of bone still in him... ivory, such a smooth, clean bone. his blood all over the white rocks of the garden... more than one might even imagine the little boy had.
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| − | <b>Cael:</b> Cael watches the orchids and the prince and scarlet with a mixture of relief and wonder.
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| − | "Thank you." he says softly, kneeling down to study the blade, though not touching it.
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| − | <b>Orchid:</b> "This is just something I have to do..." She says, eyes closed... then, opening them with a smile. "He will live. But he barely didn't..."
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| − | <b>Militia:</b> "Scarlet!" Comes a voice, and she runs, to the entrance of the clearing... where Cael had heard the footsteps behind him, before... "Do not touch," She asks, to the blade of bone now on the ground, as she rushes past Cael, amost shoving him aside in her hurry... "It's poisoned."
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| − | As Cael turns around, he sees several members of the Hourglass militia, laying on the ground, pierced by the needles of the Disciple, in pools of their own blood. And Orchid coming to help them... and on her back, many of the same needles. She endures them without flinching, possibly using some magic to ignore pain and poison.... she walks amidst the bodies, face draining of all color just as the ranks of the militiamen open to reveal the Hourglass' owner, coming behind them... Rika Sanjuro.
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| − | <b>Orchid:</b> Scarlet shaks her head, "There is nothing I can do for them anymore... they were dead on the moment the needles went through. I'm sorry, Rika..." She says, neverthless kneeling down and closing their eyes....
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| − | <b>Cael:</b> Cael turns to face Rika Sanjuro, studying her as she approaches, castemark shining on his face with a flickering while light, too bright by far to be covered by the hair that normally lies across it.
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| − | "I must apologise for the death my companion brought to your people, Lady Sanjuro."
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| − | <b>Rika Sanjuro:</b> Rika sighs as she looks down with her one eye. The older woman, the infamous god-blooded warrior that made fame throughout the North and East holds the handle of her sword with the one hand she has left, the Kimono falling about her seeming to wave with her fury. "You again..." She almost growls at the sight of the bone needles.
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| − | In spite of her awkward appearance, Rika is still a handsome older woman. Even with her mystical longevity and seeming habit of misplacing pieces of herself, she has aged well. There are vestiges of the Realm in her full lips and long black hair, but her mixed heritage also grants her an aristocratic face, somewhat spoiled by it's usual worn-out expression. While short in statue, her body is voluptuous. There is yet only a hint of sagging in her breasts and her scarred skin only wrinkling around her eyes and the corners of her mouth when she smiles. Well toned muscles move bellow her pale skin, kept firm by a daily regime of exercise that would seem impossible for one with her apparent dislike for physical strain, and a wealth of pale scars crisscross her body, though none more visible than the one which runs from her brow to her chin and over her missing right eye. Long and lustrously black in spite of any apparent attempts to take care of it, her hair is beginning to show signs of graying at the temples and along her bangs.
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| − | She notices Cael then, and as the surviving members of the Hourglass Militia back away from the glowing sun in Cael's forehead, the woman seems to utterly disregard it, and focus on his words, "Your companion?" she lets out rudely.
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| − | <b>Cael:</b> Cael gestures to the pale prince lying at his side
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| − | "I thought your men had gotten inolved in the fight with him and the killer. Though perhaps I am mistaken, and his and the killer's presence at this place was mere coincidence. Never the less, I am sorry for your loss."
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| − | <b>Rika Sanjuro:</b> "He fought Kimei? That young boy? I am impressed he is still breathing." She switches her weight on her feet, looking at Cael up and down... "You are mistaken. He... comes here, from time to time. To remember me of him. To remember me I can never touch him. To try to hurt me." She turns around. "And he has been doing that very successfully so far. So, do not blame yourself, boy. You have nothing to do with this... but you have my gratitude for getting involved." She says, over her shoulder, before heading in... not in the best of moods.
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| − | <b>Orchid:</b> "Damn him..." Scarlet still tries, touching the men, seeing if anything can be done... the rest of the militia gone with Rika, probably to arrange others to move away the bodies, exorcists for their hungry ghosts... and Scarlet lets out a tear, unable to do anything else....
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| − | <b>Cael:</b> Cael watches her walk into the inn, then turns toward Orchid.
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| − | He walks over to her, kneeling by her, very gently touching her shoulder, careful to avoid the spines, lifting her chin a little
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| − | "I'm sorry you can do no more for them. He will not be so fast to leave my next encounter with me, I promise you that." a calming, reassuring tone in his voice, to ease away her pain.
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| − | <b>Orchid:</b> "I... hope. I sure hope..." She smiles slightly, just slightly... "But the damage today was done... and there was nothing we could do... nothing I could do."
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| − | <b>Cael:</b> Cael smiles a little wider at her, his hand moving slightly, stroking her shoulder softly.
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| − | "You saved a life. And you drove him away. You should not worry over what has been."
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| − | He offers her his hand as he flows to his feet.
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| − | <b>Orchid:</b> Scarlet takes Cael's hands, smiling back at him... her eyes fixating on his caste mark... burning so brightly... "We all did. He certainly could have taken me... or the guards. We all did...."
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| − | So close to him. To that heretic light, to that handsome savior... so close. And then she turns her face away, back to the clearing, "You should help the boy. He will need much rest..."
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| − | <b>Cael:</b> "I will carry him back to the Zephyr." he says, "He will be as safe there as anywhere else near here."
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| − | He pauses breifly "I know that healing the boy, and healing yourself will take you some effort, so I will simply ask, when can you heal the Pale Angel?"
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| − | <b>Orchid:</b> She takes the needle from her back, and breaks it on her hand, a viscous gray liquid coming from the porous parts of the bone...
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| − | "Take him to my room. As soon as we are both recovered, tomorrow, I will heal her."
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| − | "Me... I think I can be well.... enough. We still need to discuss one thing though, mr. Windwraith..."
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| − | <b>Cael:</b> "I would prefer he were aboard the Zephyr....but..."
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| − | He leans to pick the Prince up, gently supporting him in his arms.
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| − | "Please, call me Cael. And yes, I think we do."
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| − | <b>Orchid:</b> She takes another, snapping it as well...
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| − | "Be gentle with him. He is still too hurt.." She looks around and sees... the blade. "Pass him to me, and pick his blade up... if it is what I think it is. And if he is who I think he is..."
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| − | She looks at Alex's face... naturally beautiful, perfected by the blade and the stone within it. Even fell, the very image of nobility... as she comes to pick him up, the tatoo on her forehead glaming slightly and... somehow... moving?
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| − | <b>Cael:</b> Cael passes the prince to her, carefully despositing him in her arms, a slight frown passing over his face as he studies the strange tattoo.
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| − | "It is, yes. And he is, yes" he says softly, walking over to the Prince's golden blade, kneeling, whispering a short prayer to the Sun, then picking it up, holding it with the respect such an ancient weapon deserves.
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| − | <b>Orchid:</b> She carries the boy, almost stumbling once or twice, but holding her ground as she can... arriving once again in her incense-filled room. Scarlet deposits the prince in one big ground of pillows over one of her beds, countless scarlet veils protecting him there... picking something to apply to his wounds as she does. "Close the door, Cael, the incense will help us all, and it is too expensive to let out..." she says, without turning from the boy...
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| − | <b>Cael:</b> Cael carefully closes the door behind him with his foot, then shrugs himself out of his coat, lying it on a table and the sword upon the silk lining within. "Now, can I help you with those spines?", He gestures to the ivory slivers of bone in her back
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| − | <b>Orchid:</b> "Hmmmhmmm." She nods, as if she had all but forgotten about them. "See that violet-looking oil there? The third shelf to your right? Could you pick it up? It will help with my wounds when they come out... and help me deal with the poison, just in case..." She says, without moving from her work on the little prince... shirt open, young enough so one can see his ribs as his breath goes up and down, slowly...
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| − | Scarlet herself lets only trickles of sweat come from her forehead, over her tatoos, the passion-red flowers in her hair, blood impossible to see on her loose red robes...
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| − | <b>Cael:</b> Cael nods and walks over, picking up the oil carefully, as well as a small dish and a cloth.
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| − | He kneels beghind her on the bed.
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| − | "Ready?" Then he starts to pull the needles carefully with nimble fingers, dabbing at the wounds they leave with the oil after he pulls each one, setting them in the dish.
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| − | <b>Orchid:</b> She finishes applying a smashed herb to the prince's chest wound, charging it with Essence... the essence of wood, of growing things of life. then she turns to Cael, forming a sharp leaf on her hand... and ripping the back of her robe, "Worry not, I can heal it later..." And indeed, it feels... alive, to Cael. And on the inside of the red robes, Cael sees what looks to be not fabric, but as if it was made of a great, sculpted.. rose petal. "Ready now..."
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| − | She holds back a yelp every time he pulls one out, shivering under the touch of his hands and the oil on her wounds, knetl there, closing her eyes...
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| − | <b>Cael:</b> Cael sets down the last of the needles into the dish, and dabs the last wound.
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| − | "That is the last of them."
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| − | his hand gently rubs the hem of her robe, marvelling at the fabric...or flower...
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| − | He picks up the bowl and stands, setting the bowl down well away from the bed.
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| − | <b>Orchid:</b> "Thank you, Cael. Suppose we are even now." She smiles at him, almost cheerfully... her hand reaching back and, with a flare of orchid petals, making it whole again. "You have my thanks. It won't weight on the payment for my services, but you do have my thanks, Cael." She looks at him... where his caste mark was, as if admiring his forehead...
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| − | <b>Cael:</b> Cael smiles warmly "Thank you. That means something to me."
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| − | He studies her forehead in return, his eyes following all the lines of the tattoos, a softly puzzled look coming over his face.
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| − | <b>Orchid:</b> Her hands touch her own forehead... and the tatoo swirls, the lines stretching a bit, shy of her eyes... "Oh, wondering about this? It was... a gift. A gift from a friend, from long ago... who inscribed ways to protect myself in this. Saved my life more than once..Crimson Aegis, they are called. What about yours? They are... impressive."
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| − | She grins, then, before he can reply, "Or are you just dazzled with my beauty?"
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| − | <b>Cael:</b> Cael's face splits into an amused grin "Who would not be?"
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| − | "Crimson Aegis? They are beautiful, too." he murmurs softly.
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| − | He lifts his sleave so she can see more of the binds than the few swirls that creep onto his hand, hidden below the bracers of frozen sunlight.
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| − | "Mine, they are the Empyrean Binds. I do not know how I got them, I woke with them enscribed on my body soon after my Exaltation."
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| − | <b>Orchid:</b> "My, aren't you a gentleman." She smiles, getting closer to him, admiring... "Can I... touch?"
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| − | "Right after Exaltation? Like that? Like the marks of Lunar Anathema? You are related, after all..."
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| − | <b>Cael:</b> "Of course." he holds out his hand, after slipping the bracer off.
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| − | "I believe the process Lunars undergo is rather different. I certainly know of no others of my kind with them." He makes a vague gesture at the Prince behind her.
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| − | "As I said, I do not know why I have them."
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| − | <b>Orchid:</b> "I have seen a Lunar Anathema before... and yes, they are different, now that I think of it... swirling cuts and claws, waves, almost like my Crimson Aegis, but less intricate... now, yours... this is... Old Realm? An alphabet... so more accurate, detailed... beautiful. Beautiful as well, Cael..." She says, running her hands over his arms... and up... getting closer to him, her lips parting, invitingly...
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| − | ...and then, she begins to waver... as if dizzy, her irises vanishing upward, she brings her hand to her mouth... and then, with a pained, confused moan falls, unconscious, over Cael.
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| − | <b>Cael:</b> Cael does the only thing he can do. Catch her with a faintly confused expression on his face, gently laying her out on the bed, checking her temperature with his hand, trying work out what brought the faint on her. And what she had seen in the Binds, that he still could not see...Old Realm writing ... there was no writing in the Binds? And then his thoughts wandered back to things the Disciple had said ... and it troubled him.
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| − | ----
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| − | * - Back to [[GoldenCat/SecondMovement|Second Movement]]
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| − | * - Back to [[GoldenCat/DanceOfAngels|A Dance of Angels]]
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