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| − | * - Back to [[GoldenCat/SixthMovement|Sixth Movement]]
| + | #REDIRECT [[ADanceOfAngels]] |
| − | * - Back to [[GoldenCat/DanceOfAngels|A Dance of Angels]]
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| − | == Elegy for a Faith ==
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| − | '''Ryshassa: ''' Somewhere on the outskirts of the Palace of Timeless Winter, an old abandoned church stands. Desecrated by who or what none were certain, but its effigies have been smashed into bits of marble rubble, leaving twisted statues of goddesses with a single limb or wing, with faces in benevolence or exultation half caved in, with gaping pieces missing in the torso. All of the valuables have long been stripped away, the chalices and incense holders and holy symbols of some worship Ryshassa is not sure she recognizes.
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| − | The healer sits perched on what might have once been an altar but is now more a misshapen slab of rock, facing out towards rows upon rows of empty pews as if an audience were in attendance. It is now approaching sunset, her favorite time of day, and the last vestiges of sunlight stream through arched, stained glass windows marred in places with spiderweb cracks and jagged holes. There are candles lit all around her, too, in iron candelabras rather than the ornate, precious metals that might have once been used. She wears a kimono that starts white at the shoulders, blending into a belladonna purple towards the waist and downward, embroidered with clusters of mourning bride and black orchid in an darker black-purple.
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| − | And she plays, her fingers glossing across the orichalcum strings of her seven stringed lyre, its silver-white body resting propped up atop her thigh. The song she wrests from them is of a timbre most appropriate to her attire and her surroundings, a dirge to stir the hearts of even the most pitiable of ghosts, had they been listening.
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| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' Selina had had to do a good amount of looking for Ryshassa to find her -- even given her ability to work in such surroundings it hadn't been easy. But then, the city is half-desolate. In the end, vague ideas of where she had gone and the music had been what showed her the way.
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| − | A desecrated church to one of the Whiteshield deities, probably long since snuffed by the invasion. That is where the dirge is coming from. Selina archs downward in her low, building evading flight, and lands at the entrance, attired as she customarily chooses to be. The doors are no longer there, wrenched off their hinges, shattered and torn to shreds about the entrance.
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| − | The assassin steps through the gaping portal and into the building, her steps making on the slightest of sounds even in a building that carries sound well. Then she speaks, curious. "A dirge for the passing of gods and their worshippers?"
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| − | '''Ryshassa: ''' Ryshassa's head jerks up briefly, surprised as she is by the unexpected entrance of the Dark Angel. But her fingers do not pause, and in fact do not even falter as she continues through several more measures before bringing the dirge to a solemn and utter conclusion.
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| − | Only then does she lower her hands, and present her full attention to her visitor. "You could say that," she says, her voice carrying easily across the chamber. "There are many to mourn in times of war. Many I have come too late to save or lack the reserves of strength to do so. Many who cannot be saved at all." She speaks these truths with an even, accepting tone, though a note of sadness still weighs down her words.
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| − | "Though I suppose mourning them is my husband's domain more than mine. Those who cannot be healed, he remembers, and so they pass on to be reborn." Dismissing such thoughts for now as useless musings, she offers Selina a smile. "Is there something you need of me, lady Aine?"
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| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' Selina looks across the empty expanse of the temple, then shrugs. "A question, actually. What exactly is it you saw when you looked inside my sister's mind, that time days ago?"
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| − | '''Ryshassa: ''' "Oh..." Ryshassa keeps her lyre cradled atop her thighs, stretching her legs out as she attempts to recall it. It crosses her mind that Iselsis might not want her to speak of the dream, but Selina is her sister... it cannot do any harm...
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| − | "She was having a dream, a very real dream. I can't say I know the places or the people that were there. But by the time I 'arrived' so to speak, it was already all beginning to be consumed by light. Streams of burning light. The people were trying to pull her down into it. I remember the one closest to her, holding her legs. She was... a golden blonde, I think her eyes were purple... rosy wings, and a green leotard."
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| − | Speaking almost as if she is entering a trance, the Twilight closes her eyes, trying to dredge more deeply into her memory of it. "They were all saying things, a chorus of words... 'You have to remember,' 'You have to save Windia', over and over and over. And the only part of her dream that tried to come to her aid was what looked to be a demon, shadowy and horned with orange eyes..."
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| − | Abruptly she shakes her head, breaking the trance-like recitation. "That is all that I can remember. I pulled her from the light, just in time. But it seemed as if the light wanted to erase what she ''is''... and replace her."
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| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' "I can't confess to be able to recall who that woman is, but I know the light, now. That light is Adorjan, the Silent Wind." Selina says without passion, words echoing throughout the church. "One of the Primordials we defeated ages ago, in that old war. One of the ones who was locked away in surrender instead of falling to us as my current patron did."
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| − | Selina exhales heavily, blowing a whisp of her hair back away from her eyes, then shakes her head gravely. "It would be best for you if you did not do that again, unless it was of the uttermost urgency to. And even then, it should be weighed."
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| − | '''Ryshassa: ''' "She spoke more of that, actually," Ryshassa admits. "I mean, of Adorjan. When we had some time to talk after the Circle meeting. She has been looking for a 'cure' for a long time, is what she said... it's part of why she's become so engrossed with reading books on occult topics."
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| − | Her legs still propped up and dangling from the shattered altar, she kicks her bare toes in the air as if she is swimming. Tilting her head at Selina she asks, "So there really... really isn't a way to cure her? She told me that the change happened when she was put into some sort of artifact that the Windians use to turn normal mortals into low-end sorcerors. I had not even known such an artifact exists..."
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| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' "Not one that I would know of." Selina admits, leaning against a weathered and damaged pew. "It would certainly require magic far beyond what I am currently capable of, and probably everyone here."
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| − | "My energies might be able to cleanse her of the Yozi's presence but...they would likely destroy her as well. Oblivion requires a fine control to wield as a thing of healing, and even then it is useful only for cutting away dead or diseased flesh." She sighs at that. Control such as that would require much study -- study she cannot afford right now. Maybe once the war is over...
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| − | ''If she lasts that long. ''
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| − | '''Ryshassa: ''' "Mind you... I was already tempted to see for myself, whether I could help, but I did not. Not after what happened with Kanti... I thought I had best not put too much faith in my own abilities."
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| − | "Especially given my chosen methods of healing. Even if it were possible to draw out Adorjan from your sister's body, I do not think I could simply eradicate her afterwards. If anything, the Yozi would probably take root in my body instead... which... does not solve the problem, simply creates a new one." Ryshassa sighs softly, and runs her fingers across the lyre strings once more, a minor chord bordering on intentional dissonance.
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| − | "It saddens me, that Adorjan may eventually kill her... that her presence in Iselsis is slowly eroding her sense of self. But this affliction could not simply be an accident, could it? Might it have been set up that way, for Iselsis's body to be the vessel for the Yozi?"
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| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' "It could have been." Selina shrugs, then moves a wing forward to examine the feathers half-heartedly as she continues. "But I could not say who would have done so. Most obviously, a Yozi cult...but others might stand to profit. I hear Heaven has quite the agenda."
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| − | '''Ryshassa: ''' "Heaven?" Ryshassa tries not to look too surprised, so as not to seem too naive. Layers upon layers of influences... she had lived such a sheltered life, it would still take her some time to really ''understand'' how deeply these plots and counter-plots could interconnect. "She did also say that Gennadi makes Adorjan react... though that might as well have been coincidence."
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| − | Something else nagging at the edge of her thoughts comes to the forefront. "Though... if Adorjan was the light in Iselsis's dream, then what was that dark, demonic-seeming being that I saw trying to come to her aid?"
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| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' "Heaven. Besides the Chosen, the Yozis hate -- or so I have heard and read -- the gods the most. Heaven would have the most to lose, and thus, some people would be able to manipulate them without as much suspicion, or so I would think." She shrugs again, sharply, then smirks. "But that is just a supposition."
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| − | "I'm not sure what the demon would be, though." Selina replies. "I doubt it would be me. Too many unknowns in her case..."
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| − | '''Ryshassa: ''' "Hmmmm..." Ryshassa hums musingly. She pulls her legs up now, so that the lyre rests between her torso and her thighs. "Before... everything happened, with your parents, did you and your sister get along? Seeing you together, it's hard to believe you haven't seen each other in a while. The protectiveness, even the fights... very sisterly, if I may say so." A touch of reminiscence, now, arises in her tone, in the wistful smile on her delicate features. "It's just that the situations and subject matter are so much bleaker."
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| − | "I don't mean to talk about what I don't know. I do have a younger sister, though. Back in the Blessed Isle, though by now she must have graduated from secondary school... if that's the path she took..." ''I wonder what Atmadja thinks of me now, after all these years. ''
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| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' "We got along fairly well." Selina says with a faint smile, putting one hand back on the pew behind her to balance herself. "I was a little tyrant then too...but we didn't hate one-another. After all this time she is quite...different. But then, so am I. She never even knew me when I was golden."
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| − | Her eyebrow raises at the mention of Ryshassa's sister, however. "Your sister grew up in the heartland of the Imperial Cult, or so I like to call it sometimes. In Winlandia the Immaculates maintain a much lesser presence, so I am disliked by Izabella much less for being an Anathema and more for being an Accursed kinslayer."
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| − | '''Ryshassa: '''Ryshassa decides she likes seeing the smile -- however faint -- on the Dark Angel's face. Another quiet justification for her, perhaps, that becoming so Accursed does not completely overwhelm the parts of you that can feel caring, affection, even compassion. In a way just coming to her this way to speak of Iselsis was a kind gesture to a relative stranger. After all, it did not have to matter to Selina whether she lived or died helping Iselsis.
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| − | "I have noticed that, in this part of the North. 'Anathema' are not so looked down upon, even seem to be accepted. Here in Whiteshield the heir to the throne is himself golden. On the other hand, when I was Chosen it was when I was still a student in the Realm... it was Alexsei who brought me away from there before I could be hunted." Ryshassa shrugs helplessly. "My sister perhaps would hate me by now, though I like to believe she would be capable of more independent thought than that."
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| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' "In this part, yes." Selina replies thoughtfully. "The Lunars have held sway here quite handily -- so much of the North is marginal for the Realm's interests that it seems not to invest much energy in policing it beyond the satrapies on the Inner Sea -- and so the people feel less threatened by non-Terrestrial Chosen. Or respect them more, however you wish to put it."
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| − | "You survived being Chosen in the Realm?" The Windian asks curiously. That would be an interesting story. As far as she had ever heard, all Solars and Lunars chosen there, died there. "I myself did not go there before the incident, though my mother and father spoke of it on several occasions, for when I grew older, and after, well...it would have been suicide."
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| − | '''Ryshassa: ''' "Gethamane is quite indifferent to the Realm, as well. Its people have maintained a sense of independence since they established themselves there. I wonder how fleeting or ephemeral that is, though, with darkness lurking in the Underways, and the Guild above..."
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| − | "But yes," Ryshassa says, in answer to Selina's question, "I was not originally from Gethamane. I was raised a Dynast. I was... am... a granddaughter of Cynis Wisel, the progenitor of said House's infamous slave trade." She always felt the need to admit this to people straight out as soon as they made mention of her Dynastic origins. Why, she was not so sure. Perhaps it merely satisfied her to be honest about it.
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| − | "I was so frightened and confused during my escape that I cannot say I remember many details of it. My husband, he is a Starchosen, so he ...saw when my Exaltation would occur, and paved the way beforehand for my escape. There is a method the Sidereals have, of making prophecy when three of them convene and join powers. He found out about me through this... though he and I do not yet know what it means."
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| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' "Interesting." Selina observes with a wry tone. "So he had the help of two others in that. It is good I removed myself from the destiny writ in stars."
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| − | ''Now, at least, I can see the hand steering me. ''
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| − | "I myself am descended from Mnemon on my mother's side...though at the moment I can't recall just how many other Dynasts seperate me from her. Always wondered what she was like...though now meeting her is out of the question, I'm afraid."
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| − | '''Ryshassa: ''' "I do not believe I have met Mnemon in person... though... if I have, it would have been as a servant to a guest." And perhaps more. And perhaps behind closed doors. But that was what Ryshassa had been when she had no other talent to show except her deep desire to be useful and her ability to cater to the needs of others.
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| − | "Do the Starchosen make you uneasy? I can say that Alexsei is more often than not at odds with others of his kind. Including in his... attachment to me. As for myself, I owe my life to them. I do not necessarily believe that means I am obligated to them, but it would be hypocritical for me to say I dislike them. Some of them, perhaps..." ''Like Damien''. "But... not all."
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| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' "They make me uneasy, but mostly because I do not like the idea they know more than me." She says simply, moving off of the pew, walking up to the alter slowly. "And that they might use that knowledge to direct me. Sacrifice me. Hmmm..." Selina trails off, suddenly thinking to herself.
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| − | ''Perhaps I was... ''
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| − | ''No. ''
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| − | ''I will test that theory soon enough, but not now. ''
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| − | ''And they must not be aware I suspect this. ''
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| − | "I am a bit tired of being someone else's pawn in life, you see."
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| − | '''Ryshassa: ''' As Selina approaches the broken altar, Ryshassa rises to her feet atop it, her bare feet dancing in slow, aimless patterns across the rough surface. A subtle ringing sound every time her feet hit the stone hint at the presence of belled anklets underneath the purple folds of her kimono.
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| − | "I understand what you mean," she says musingly, halfway through her dance when she suddenly stops, self-consciously. "I mean... not that I think my beloved is making me his pawn. In fact, he has always told me he wants me to seek my own path. He saved me, but he did so to free me. And if I chose not to be with him, then..."
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| − | "I don't want to be apart from him, though," she says, with a sudden, vulnerable, yearning innocence. "In the end, I chose to trust him... that he is not taking advantage of me for his own gain. So much of the events here in the North, though, speak of betrayals. Of loved ones, of family, of oneself."
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| − | "I think I would be crushed, if Alexsei betrayed me."
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| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' Selina blinks at the Solar, wondering what the dance is for. But she seems somewhat abashed after she interrupts it mid-way, so the Abyssal says nothing. Instead, she replies. "Some people may be trusted. It is true that given infinite possibilities, there may always be the chance that the trust given even to the most seemingly trustworthy has been manipulated to be there...but that is a crippling way to think." She ends with her teeth biting her lower lip softly, then looks skyward, up to the roof.
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| − | "Gennadi may indulge in that on occasion, I notice. I am not sure whether he believes it or not, however. But sometimes you have to adopt an attitude of chopping off what is incomplete, and saying 'this is over because it ended here'."
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| − | '''Ryshassa: ''' It is nothing, really; she is simply restless, or so it seems. As Ryshassa continues to talk she balances across the edges of the altar, walking toe to heel around its perimeter, lyre cradled in one arm.
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| − | "Gennadi seems to be particularly paranoid, always trying to cover his tracks and make sure everyone is on his good side. It is oddly charming how he does that. I know he did not want me to dislike him for what... reputation Alexsei might have told me of him. But of course it was also to help ensure that I would heal him when he needs it."
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| − | "I do not think he is cold-hearted, though. In fact I do not think any of the Circle truly is, at least those I have met. Even Lilith, the Pale Angel. She frightens me terribly, though!" she admits, a blush clear on her pale cheeks as her pacing turns her around to face Selina once more.
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| − | "So then, who among the Circle we have been formed into would you trust the most?"
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| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' "Gennadi thinks he is, or actually is, a player. And a player must always appear to be on top of his game, regardless of what it is." Selina says with some amusement and surety in her voice.
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| − | ''The same with every successful general, every statesman, every backalley thug. ''
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| − | ''And every man who thinks he can talk you into pulling your unmentionables down your legs better than most of the others. ''
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| − | "The Pale Angel frightens you?" She asks curiously, looking up at the other Celestial. "Why is that?"
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| − | '''Ryshassa: ''' ''Hmm''. Ryshassa notes Selina completely avoided the question of trust. Or perhaps her mention of the Pale Angel intrigued her even more.
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| − | "Why... well... I think that I find her unpredictable," is what Ryshassa finally admits, settling after a moment back down into a position seated on the short side of the altar, one hand propping her up as her long hair cascades down to pool atop the center of it. "Sometimes I think that she likes me, other times... that she does not. She is easily irritated. And at other times, so sentimental. I wonder whether she finds me annoying when I say or notice something too true to her heart, even without meaning it."
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| − | "She does not make it easy to make friends with her. But I will continue trying, even if I wish to run away," Ryshassa says with a shrug. Soft and even meek in demeanor at times, she can still be stubborn when it comes to a goal she wants to reach. "I wish to understand better those who will be my comrades in arms."
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| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' "That is an interesting view of her. Many seem to find her rather predictable, and me to be the wild element." Selina muses, chuckling to herself softly.
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| − | Then she looks back to Ryshy. "As for trust: I must say I simply do not know. Or choose not to know, myself." She shrugs, and this time her arms come up as well, spread to either side, wings extending along with them. "You might say that I have been in an environment where trust is a rare commodity for so long that I simply take people as they come...making whatever allowances seem necessary, and taking whatever precautions I feel merited."
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| − | '''Ryshassa: ''' "Really?" Ryshassa seems incredulous at the general opinion of the Angels as stated. "I find you much easier to talk to than her. And I've been around you less. How curious."
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| − | "Maybe I am not as frightened of you as I ought to be," she says with a laugh. Suddenly she steps up, away from the altar entirely, walking around it so that she stands close to the black-winged woman. Closer than arm's length. More than close enough to touch, but not actually touching. "Do you find me uncomfortable now? Would you hurt or break me because I dared to come this close uninvited?"
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| − | "I don't believe you would," Ryshassa says simply, and after a moment, takes a step back and away. "Maybe I am too trusting? You take a more cautious approach than I do... and likely it serves you well. I wonder whether I will end up dead and broken one day, for wishing too much to see the good in others."
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| − | The last Ryshassa says with a sad, helpless smile on her face.
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| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' Turquoise eyes widen just a bit in surprise as the other Chosen does that, but they return to normal soon enough.
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| − | "I wouldn't." She admits with some amount of embarassment. "Though that kind of thing does stir the urge to make certain kinds of responses." Selina shrugs. "But the Pale Angel is rather cold, I will admit. She was alone for more of her life than I, and when she could mix she kept more of a wall between herself and others than I, as well."
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| − | "We both turned to darkness, but dare I say it, her misery was more spread out across her life than mine. I was broken as deeply as I think possible...and hardened. She hardened over time, layer upon layer."
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| − | '''Ryshassa: ''' Ryshassa does blush somewhat at the implication of the 'certain kinds of responses.' But she has a brighter smile on her face now, and clasps her hands in front of her, having put the lyre atop the altar when she left it.
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| − | "You seem to have gotten much closer to the Pale Angel. That is understandable, you've both gone through a similar... transformation. Though perhaps for different reasons. Maybe I am not 'hard' enough for her."
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| − | "I would like to be, though... in a way. I don't want to be seen as a pushover, because I have devoted my life to the arts of healing rather than killing. I would like to be tough... but I would also like to keep my ability to be compassionate, to recognize and bring out the best in others. Does that not make me seem a bit of a fool to you?" she says with a disarmingly innocent giggle.
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| − | "But I think..." Ryshassa's expression becomes suddenly grave, as if a shadow had unexpectedly fallen over it. "I think that if I did come to believe that no one can possibly be trusted, that all that is good in a person can be easily corrupted and eliminated... I would want to be more like you. Dark... and destructive."
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| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' "Should it?" Selina asks, almost asking herself as well as the other Celestial. "Our paths give us certain perspectives -- there is as much potential blindness and weakness in destruction as creation or preservation, if we let them become our totality and shun other ways of approaching situations."
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| − | Then, Selina catches Ryshassa's gaze with her own, seemingly gauging. "You would prefer destruction to victory, like the Pale Angel's way, or subterfuge, like Gennadi's way? Why?"
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| − | "As for the Pale Angel, she is simply guarded with everyone." Selina adds. "It took me quite a bit of pestering her and forcing my way in to get as close as I am now...and she still makes me contend with her for some of it."
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| − | '''Ryshassa: ''' "Healing," Ryshassa explains, "is my calling and my duty, is what fulfills me and helps me feel I have a place in this world. And I mean not simply healing wounds, but healing hearts as well, healing rifts between others. Harmony of the body, harmony of relations and the soul."
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| − | "If I came to realize that trust was futile and goodness ephemeral, I would feel no more desire to preserve anyone or anything. In a way... it is too a form of healing. If the sickness of the world is the world itself, then it should be eliminated, should it not? The way I may neutralize a disease or knit a wound with simply a thought."
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| − | The healer seems almost breathless and flushed to even admit such things to anyone. "But, lady Aine, I desperately, ''desperately'' do not wish to believe in a truth such as that. The only other fate I could see for myself if I ever came to that point would be to end my own life. Mine... or everyone's. There could be no other way," she says, and her voice by now is almost a whisper, as she holds herself and shivers.
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| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' "That is something I believe as well...in a way." Selina admits. "Though I am unsure what the cutoff point for me is, precisely."
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| − | "Some things are hard to heal, though." She pauses for a moment, unsure of how to extrapolate on that. "Which is to say, that some things must be learned, I think. And killing works no better on those types of problems -- there are always more people who think that way where the dead ones came from."
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| − | '''Ryshassa: ''' "That is true..." Ryshassa says, more wearily now. "It is very difficult for me to admit, but ...it is true. Though that does not mean I could not serve as a guide to help them learn what they should know, to mend whatever despair or fear or shame is inside them. It would simply take time... and so long as there is a glimmer of hope that they can be helped, I would continue to try."
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| − | "I think that is part of why I want so much to see the good and decency in you and in the Pale Angel. I have seen the hint... and so I wish to delve. I wish to validate that what I saw is not merely a trick of my mind. And I believe, I still believe you are a good person. Beset by terrible circumstances yes, that led you to darkness in order to take ultimate control over your own life. But you ...you could have been ''me'', too. As I could have been you."
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| − | She touches her forehead, and with a small manifestation of Essence, willingly allows it to show between her fingers... the Caste Mark, a golden circle with the top half filled, upon her pale brow.
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| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' She would not admit such to many other people. But, for some reason, it seems ok to admit that outright to this woman. "You...are probably correct." Then she shrugs slightly. "But there is also much darkness. I not only did terrible things, I took much joy in them at times. And such may happen again. I may not think I am unredeemable, but there is...a ways to go for me."
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| − | Selina's anima flickers about her, a faint corona of shadow, wind wafting about her for a moment, and then both are gone. Her caste mark is much the same as Ryshassa's...though it is not golden, merely a black brand upon her forehead. "Perhaps so. We are two of a kind, after all. No great destinies binding us together, or two identical purposes. But similar purposes, oh yes, in a way -- all things need knowledge of them to be preserved, afterall. Even after they are gone into the Void, or remade through Lethe." She smiles at the other woman.
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| − | '''Ryshassa: ''' "I would never deny that you are capable of such things. But I do not think you would do so simply at a whim. To prove a point perhaps, even if the point is to show that you are indeed reprehensible, just as you believe yourself to be."
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| − | Ryshassa returns the smile that forms on the Dark Angel's face, not a smile of guile or seduction or triumph or sadness but simply a genuine smile. "Well, I am glad we had this talk, lady Aine. Thank you for looking out for me. I will remember about Adorjan and care not to delve into your sister's mind too deeply."
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| − | "I hope we can become friends," the Solar adds cheerfully, turning to collect her lyre again before sweeping past Selina and into the aisle with a little, fanciful pirouette. "Or if not friends, at least allies -- not only because we share this Circle, but because of mutual understanding. Maybe someday..."
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| − | She does not finish the sentence, if indeed it had an end, simply letting the silence fill in as she slips past the shattered halves of the door and into the street beyond.
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| − | '''Selina de Windia: ''' Selina, for her part, nods with that faint smile still on her lips, then exits herself, after several moments of reflection on the scene around her.
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| − | ''Between their kind, perhaps there is hope for us all. ''
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| − | Better not let her sister know she thinks such thoughts too highly, though.
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| − | ''I'll never hear the end of calls to redeem then. ''
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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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