Difference between revisions of "GoldenCat/Heads04"

Revision as of 18:41, 5 March 2007

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Serpent of Order, Serpent of Chaos

It had not been too long since Fiona had woken up...

And walked out with the Child, scared as he was. Kanti had taken Xue to Spire with her...

And then Fiona ran into the clinic, with a monkey-girl only slightly taller than her, and looking no older in tow, almost dragging her, face flushed, covered in sweat, and absolutely terrified...

"Ryshyyy!" She calls, her voice filled witrh fear...

Child of Wyld Days: It might not have looked it, but the girl Fiona was dragging was more afraid than she could ever be. Afraid of Archen, afraid of her hunger, afraid of herself, afraid of hurting Fiona... the list could go on and on, but survival was first and foremost on her mind.

"Fiona... are you sure we should..."

Ryshassa: "F..fiona??" Ryshassa's afternoon has been quite peaceful, for once, up until now -- routine checkups more or less, though she still worries about Iselsis, who remains unconscious.

Gathering the hem of her silver butterfly-patterned white kimono, she rushes to meet Fiona. The healer doesn't quite recognize Days... but can't help but think the girl as terribly familiar...

"What is going on? Please, calm down and tell me if I can help you. Either of you..." Ryshassa turns to the monkey-girl, as well. She seemed so very much like Days that they could very well have been related -- or more.

Fiona: Fiona holds Ryshassa's arm, urgent, trying to speak between pants, her face red with exhertion...

"She is... after us! Where is Kanti? We need you, we need Kanti, Kanti can fight, she is close, this was closer than Spire, we need you... me and Days, we've been running, she has... she has powers, we cannot stop her, we tried, and she stole her power, she, she..."

Ryshassa: A threat?? Instantly Ryshassa's arm sweeps outward; the Caduceus, resting nearby one of the bedsides, stirs at the mere gesture and darts close to her side, the wing-feathers at the crown rippling with anticipation.

"Who is 'she'? And what powers do you speak of? I can lend some of my essence if need be, I have been quite idle today..." Without thinking, really, without considering propriety, she reaches out to touch both Fiona and Days' shoulders with both hands... to sense their general state of body and spirit.

"Kanti is... I am not sure, I believe she would be with the Prince..."

Child of Wyld Days: "Archen."

Monkey still looks shocked, the memory of her dance of Snow and Ice being stolen from her, devoured, taken by that woman's unusual Essence... and the memory sent shivers down her spine. Shivers of fear... of regret. Never should have saved her. Never should have done this... never should have been here...

Fiona: Fiona is... afraid. Scared. Fighting something that can deny her her very powers...

And even more scared at what she hears...

"She is.. out? Then we have to go, we have to go now... can you fight, Ryshy?"

Ryshassa: "Archren!" At the mere mention of the woman her eyes narrow, as close to anger as one might ever see the gentle healer... "She did this! That bitch --" As soon as the word comes from her lips she flushes a florid red, but she shakes her head stubbornly, refusing to acknowledge the embarrassment...

"I... Fiona, combat is not my typical expertise. But I will do everything I can to help both of you." She nods firmly. Alexsei had taught her some. Very, very sparingly in comparison to the other Exalts she has known. But if it meant the safety of friends...

Child of Wyld Days: "I... I don't know if I can fight again. She... she tore my Essence from me so easily, stole my Kata... what if she does it again? What if I cannot touch her? I... I am just raksha! I am no Exalt, I am not the power of Creation... I... I..."

Monkey looks on the verge of tears, either in self-hatred or outright horror.

Fiona: "... you are not? We have to hurry, then, we have to hurry, go find Kanti, she may come on at an..." Fiona does not even have time to finish the sentence before the wall close to them explodes, sending debris everywhere... and the serpent, the serpent of white and viridian essence peers inside.

And then a form steps out of the debris and dust... long blonde locks nearly covering the form of the Thaumathurge, 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 them all. She 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...

"You should stop running, Rhiannon." She says, running a hand through her hair, sighing. "It is not something I enjoy doing, but I have to kill you. I am sorry... but just stop, and accept your fate."

Ryshassa: Ryshassa fixes Archren with a baleful expression, her eyes glowing like miniature sunsets. Mustering more courage than she necessarily feels, she proclaims, "You cannot kill her, or anyone in my presence! I will not allow it!"

Her left arm swoops inward, drawing the Caduceus to the front of her, its wings spread protectively wide. Her right stretches out, keeping a hold on Days. Golden warmth radiates from her palm, sinking into the fae, infusing her with a touch of added Essence.

Archren: "There is nothing you can allow or not, Bleeding Heart. Now move out of the way."

"There is only one I have to kill, and this one is Rhiannon. You do not want to die yet, I don't think."

Her essence weapon curls, impatient. It seems to be ready to strike...

Child of Wyld Days: Monkey shudders as the essence floods her, unwanted in a way but nonetheless sucked into her being, a tasteless meal she is glad for. The next thing that Monkey does is to bite her lip and take a stance in front of Archen.

"As... as I said before... you will have to fight past me first... I cannot lose her... not now... not so soon..."

Something about her changes.... an air, an aura of... control settles upon Monkey, running sharply against the feeling of helplessness that remains. Monkey binds her not-soul, defining herself in this fight and decreeing that she will not fall without a fight.

"You must slay me, Archen... or I will slay you... somehow..."

Fiona: "Days... I am counting on you..."

So, there was nothing she could do but to fight now. They were trapped on the clinic... it would have been better if they hadn't come here, it seems... here, they were sitting ducks, waiting for Archren. If Kanti had been here... Fiona knew, how well Kanti fought. Now all of her hopes were on Ryshassa and Kanti... and herself. 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: ... and as Fiona does so, Archren's serpent touches her. It burns throughout her form, and rips the Dreamlike flow from her, draining it to Archren herself... and the shadows on Archren's body become dreamlike and multi-hued instead. Archren smiles. "You should know those tricks should not be done close to me, Rhiannon..."

Child of Wyld Days: "... if I cannot defeat you with Essence... then I will defeat you with all I have left."

She looks uneasy, even as she closes the distance... her stance is nowhere near as steady as it has been, and her movements stiff and shaky. Even now, fighting for Fiona's life, she's gripped by gutwrenching fright directed at the woman before her.

I can't win I can't win I can't win I can't win I can't win...

Two strikes rain down at Archen, with all the fury she has in her shaken, small body, shrieking with anger/fright all the while.

Archren: Archren sees the strikes coming.... but her movements are not those of one moving frantically to stop an incoming strike. She takes one step, and her foot moves a rock. She takes another step, and crushes a little piece of wall underfoot. She moves her head slightly. And then she stops, in a perfect position, and the whip comes... finishing a geomantic pattern about her, burning the air, covering everything around her with a fortress of essence to stop any and all of Monkey's strikes!

Ryshassa: "I will not die." Ryshassa says simply, at Archren's words to her. She would not tremble, she would not show weakness. Enduring is what she has always done.

Quietly, she observes Archren with the others... her words, the essence flows surrounding her, the strange 'power sucking' she seemed to do with Fiona. In the wake of Days' desperate attacks, she presses on verbally, not daring to muster Essence for a defense after what she had just seen...

"Why do you call her 'Rhiannon'? For what purpose must you kill her?" As she speaks, she too edges forward, so that she remains with Days between Archren and Fiona. Her questions are not merely words; they are gold-laced, insidious, probing subtly for the meaning behind what Archren might speak.

"Who are you?"

Archren: "I am Archren. I am the ultimate Geomancer... and I call her Rhiannon because that is how she calls herself. I walked... and I saw." She says, while her fort stops Monkey's strikes... shimmering, but not breaking. "Geomancy. Essence. Know how to move it, and you can do anything. This is my power, my gift. And for that, I will have to kill her."

Ryshassa feels it. How Archren had walked behind the Monkey and the Girl, curious... and learned. Learned that Fiona was Rhiannon, as Fiona confronted her old selves on the Wyld. And it made something change. It made an old trigger on her soul click. For she is Archren Ilyamar, the Prismatic Lady, the Gardener of Soul's Fire. For she was created by Rhiannon in a time of Golden Rule, and had betrayal seared on her soul by Starborn magic. She had been bound to a spell to kill her creator... but she was already gone. The trigger remained, however... to surface now, that Rhiannon once again walks....

"And this is enough to destroy you, Monkey." Once again, she moves. She tingles her earrings of sun and moon. They made sounds that travel to the geomantic fort about her... and it shimmers, feeling the vibration. One hand touching above her. One below. Both palms to the monkey. A deep breath. And then, both palms strike the fort, and it explodes outward, sending a rain of pure, ordered essence, of soul's fire towards the Monkey, to burn her wyld body and soul!

Child of Wyld Days: "No. It's not."

Monkey doesn't move. The world itself moves for her. Things shift, positions alter, gravity itself defies Archen's request. And in the end, there is a staff between what was a certain-kill... and now is more than likely just a failed attack.

Archren: .... and the torrent of soulfire strikes at Days.. and breaks.

Bending gravity, bending it all, the Monkey's chaos breaks the order of the essence-torrent.

And she stands, unconquered.

"Damn you, Monkey... do not make this so hard."

Child of Wyld Days: "You don't understand, Archen! I can't let you take her from me! I refuse to! She has so much to tell me, so much to show me... if you cannot remove me, I will certainly remove you."

For a second, the true Monkey shines... and then the quivers of fear return, staff shaking in her hands.

Monkey hesitates... then screams in fear, screams in anger, screams for no other reason than to drown out the voices whispening in her hear, telling her than she is doomed to fail, doomed to let Fiona die, doomed doomed DOOMED.

She screams, and her staff is a blur, lashing out at Archen thrice in rapid, looping succession.

Ryshassa: It is clear to her in the space of seconds... everything that has brought Archren to this point. An ancient creation during a Golden Age, steeped in betrayal by the Starborn. And Fiona -- Rhiannon, who created her, and now must die for it.

But knowing it gives Ryshassa so little. Knowing it merely confirms that Archren will not stop without force to stand in her way.

"Days, I will support you. Do not fear harm! I will bear your pain, I will ease your suffering. So take your belief, your love for Fiona, fight for her and yourself!"

Even if the words do nothing to soothe, it still feels right, to encourage her. To be the bastion of calm and certainty, the way Alexsei has been for her.

Archren: Archren steps back... and now she is afraid.

The strikes come, and she steps like a dance, standing in one foot... her arms protectively around her, and her snake becomes pure light... forming a pentagram before her, two, two pentagrams in a mystical circle rotating on their own axis in front of her, draining force from her position, from the geomancy of her soul....

Monkey strikes at Archren... breaking her shields, sending pieces of essence and pentagram breaking about, sending her through the wall, nearly through the one behind it! Archren nearly goes through the wall... and looks at them, relief on her eyes. "So... sorry. And th... thank you..." She coughs blood, then, before she falls to the ground, her inert body close to the gates of death...

Child of Wyld Days: Monkey... rather carelessly crumples into a heap on the ground after the final strike... and starts trembling visible, unwilling to look in the direction of Archen, inwardly blaming herself for saving her... inwardly blaming herself for killing her, just a puppet of her destiny. Just a puppet.

Like she was, although she'd never admit it.

Ryshassa: No... wait... you are thinking too narrowmindedly. Of course -- Fiona is a sorceress! Just like Rhiannon before her. Ryshassa cannot help, but Fiona can undo it, this... rage birthed in Archren.

But it is too late to say -- almost. Almost! Archren still breathes after Days' devastating attack. Ryshassa actually hesitates at the sight of Archren crumpled against the wall. Knowing she can be saved, but not wanting to save...

And why should I?

Ryshassa watches Archren's blood seep into the ground. The heart is such a wondrous muscle. Pushing all of that fluid all throughout the body. Now the body is cut open. The blood seeps out. Beat... by beat... by beat. How strange it is to hold the life of one she had so little regard for in the palm of her hand.

I can merely turn away. She would never help me in return. She would give me nothing. Nothing! She would spit in my face for my concern!

But then the second thought rises: Then I will just have to spit back.

"Fiona," she says coolly... stepping towards Archren's body. So much blood. So close to death. How must it feel? To sow so much petty scorn for others and know that a healer who has never refused to heal before would nearly have left you for dead? "You can save her, still. Her anger was created by magic. If you can counter it... you can still break it."

She kneels. Lowers her hands onto Archren's throat. Squeezes -- but relaxes, moments afterward, letting Archren's pain flow inward, into herself.

You owe me, hateful woman.

Fiona: Fiona watches the Child's movements with astonishment, awe. The Child was... so powerful. Even being so afraid, even in that petite frame, she could still fight Archren, could still save her. Could still tame her inner demons long enough... "Thank you, Days..." She says, her arms finding the Child, looking at Archren with fear, even as she lay dying... "You saved me... again."

But then, Ryshassa speaks... and suddenly, things make a little more sense. Archren had saved her before, after all... it was strange, now that she thought about it. And so, Fiona walks closer.... and Ryshassa can see her eyes becoming like Archren's. Pools of power untamed, shining with soulfire. She touches Archren, and the hues of twilight come from her eyes, like tendrils to touch Archren... and dream-butterflies, shimmering like rainbows begin to flutter about the solar, touching Archren, becoming part of them... part of her examination.

"... yes, it is Sorcery. I can feel it... and I can break it, I am sure..."

Child of Wyld Days: Days doesn't respond, doesn't move aside from the occasional tremble, doesn't even say a word. Too much, too soon, and too little courage to face it all has left Monkey simply withdrawing outright from active participation with reality, if only for a little while. After all, it's easier to fear everything when you don't have to see what you're afraid of...

Ryshassa: Bruises sting Ryshassa's body, underneath the snow-white kimono. The blood stains it, of course, stains the butterflies with crimson. It would wash away, she would ensure that one way or another.

The stain of knowing her own potential for hatred is not so easily forgotten, though. When she has taken the wounds from Archren that she would... enough that she can breathe without loss of blood... she rocks back onto her heels, crouching. Shivering, somewhat, as the intense feeling of loathing subsides. Somewhat.

She will not thank me. But I will be better than her -- I am above her petty moods. My purpose stands before my emotions.

Still... she feels more than a little bit dirty. Like her soul has been tarnished. She takes a deep breath, and pushes the entire thought of it aside.

What is done is done.

She turns instead to watch Fiona work her magic, deeply interested as a new student into sorcery herself.

Fiona: Fiona sees it... sees within her. And then, the girl gets up.

Around her, the butterflies continue to appear. Them and the leaves... colored by Twilight, they seem like burning autumn leaves... falling all over Archren. The butterflies begin to lower on her... and then, all, butterflies and leaves, begin to lose coehsion... and become part of something that can only now be seen around the Geomancer...

"Be..." She draws it out, inhaling...

"Undone"

And it is.

In an explosion of light, breaking green lights, scatterings miniatures of Jupiter about, crashing, breaking, going through their bodies, destroying more of the walls about them, undoing their hairs and roughing their clothes... but then, all is still.

And Fiona looks at Archren... whom she... knows?

"... it is done."

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