GoldenCat/ShardsofthePast
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Shards Of A Shattered Past
The night ends... peacefully. The prince soon vanishes from sight, the weight of his sadness coming down on him as her name is uttered... the memories of the death of so much he held dear coming crashing on him once more... other memories coming out as Selina speaks to a High Goddess of Windia, Vorpal hiding how much the play gave her longing...
The night passes, and the next day comes. Biding farewell to Gasper as he takes Cedric and Millia away to his lands, seeing him vanish on the sunrise, riding a beautiful burning Wyld creature, a young girl with a beautiful prince in her hands... as Kitrain vanished on the morning mists.
All prepared, the three walked out of the camps around Windia, head held high, and brave its wilderness... Going against the storm, knowing it is somewhere on the horizon, having been there once.
Dyes off, they walk, eyes on the beautiful trio of demigods as they walk out of the camps, some of them knowing, some of them recognizing. As they pass the black market and the Guild and Windian merchant exploitation of the refugees, they come behind a small hill a mile or so out of the refugees camps, near a brook and a wide high clearing, surrounded by the trees of the north... and then, they hear.. a voice. A familiar voice.
Familiar, at least to the Pale Angel. One not heard in a long time.. “C-commander?!?” calls the strong, red-bearded man. “Commander... is that really you?!?” He says, walking towards Vorpal and touching her, almost shaking her to know if she is real or not...
Vorpal: Vorpal's eyes widen slightly at the sight of the fiery-bearded man. The Ghost-Blooded halts to her tracks, her green cloak swaying slightly as it settles down around her.
Oh, damn...
"You go on without me", she mutters to Alex and the Dark Angel. "I'll catch up with you two soon."
A voice that shouldn’t be
Selina De Windia: "Hmm?" Selina asks, looking at the man and then to Vorpal. "Shouldn't we get there together, so nothing...unfortunate, happens?"
Alex Holysword: Killed all your company, did they?
The prince smiles, as he sees them....
Things can not be as complete as we believe?
Hopeful, he takes some steps back, looking around... "Well, you think they will strike now?"
Selina De Windia: "I'm not moving till she comes along as well." Selina mutters under her breath, pulling her greatcoat tighter around herself, newly clensed black wings and pale blonde hair flowing in the wind. "For safety's sake."
Alex Holysword: "We just move back a bit, then?" He says, moving quickly, taking Selina's arm, and pushing her back a bit, "Give them some privacy to talk, alright?" He smiles, his hair glittering on the diffuse light of a cloudy late morning....
Selina De Windia: "Fine, fine." She grumbles, continuing to walk south.
They'll come. They have no choice.
Alex Holysword: White cape fluttering on the wind this high on the hill, thankfully still pristine due to the lack of rain, even as the sky threatens to fall itself hard on them, the prince walks back, looking at Vorpal and her subordinate over his shoulder... There is hope for them there... there is hope for Carina. he thinks, walking south with Selina. "You ready?" He says, hand on the Orichalcum handle of his blade...
Selina De Windia: Chuckling, Selina squeezes his hand slightly. "Of course I am." Taking a look about as she continues walking, sweeping the sky with turquoise eyes, the Windian giggles. "We'll see how they deal."
Alex Holysword: He looks at his hand, thoughtful.... smiling. "As am I." He says, confidence filling him much more with her support.... "You have met them before. I hadn't. They had me inexperient, outclassed, outmatched, before. Not anymore."
"I have you now. Both of you."
Selina De Windia: "If they show...but they should." Considering for a moment on whether to dive into the Trance or not, Selina waits. If they shadowed them, they'll know quickly enough. "If they can't have the consideration to meet on neutral ground, instead of their own, then I will force them to. Negociations should only be conducted by professionals."
Alex Holysword: "And you are a professional of negotiations? Thought you ended negotiations, with your skills."
He grins. "So, what are we looking around for... we are settling somewhere, right?"
Selina De Windia: Selina shakes her head. "I am a professional. That is all." Marking a hill before them, a fairly well sized one, she stops. "I'd say that would be about right for our needs. We'll conduct our business in there, so no one else need see. Much better than a otherwordly cathedral."
Alex Holysword: "Thought you liked things otherworldly, Moranine." His voice comes... once again, alien. Older than it should, its tone all wrong... "You always liked the feel on that land of the dead. Enough to sell yourself to it."
Selina De Windia: ...Just my luck, it seems.
"Like I just did recently?" She asks sweetly, poking him in the ribs. "You know, for all I sell myself, you seem to enjoy looking. And I bet, so does the voice in your head. Don't complain."
Alex Holysword: "Never said I didn't..." The voice says, eyes older than contagion trailing her body... like they did before. Looking directly at the voice within Selina, like they had done so long before.... "You really have only managed to get so muhc more... ravishing, in your new incarnations..."
"That doesn't mean I trust you. You betrayed us before." A step towards her... "That doesn't mean I don't want to do this" An as he says so, he pushes Selina to him, stronger than he should be, kissing her... lustily. Not the manners the prince always had, not the way he talked, moved, or...
Selina De Windia: "My little voice says different." Selina mutters under her breath, then starts as Alex does that, kisses her when she didn't even ask for it. Why, her greatcoat is still on!
Deep in her throat, she growls. A low growl, coming through the kiss, one that if loud enough would shake the very ground they stand on. A rumble of armageddon. She pulls away suddenly, eyeing him. "Watch your manners, boy. You aren't the only one with rabid memories."
Alex Holysword: He blinks. He blinks, still breathing heavily. Aroused, and almost not knowing why...
A moment, and he remembers. "Oh... Mor... Selina... I...."
Even more flushed, now out of embarassment, he turns his face away, unable to look at her, "Sorry..."
Selina De Windia: Pursing her lips for a moment, Selina looks Alex up and down. Noting his condition. And then she gives him a taunting little smirk. "S'ok. At least you didn't slide a hand under my leotard. People've tried that before."
Alex Holysword: Turning about, she continues walking, pulling him along behind her.
"I pity these men... with your moon's blood running all month and all." He almost laughs, managing to lighten up a bit.
"Then agaiin, when a duchess dress like that, I would not think many men could resist..." He says, trying not to think of the flavor in his mouth... "Since so many don't seem to worry about being rude or not. Some nobles do not, much less..."
Selina De Windia: "Most of them thought I was just a fancy whore. Sometimes a cheap one." Shrugging, Selina looks back at the other two lagging behind.
When will she come along?
"If they knew I was a noble, they'd probably try much harder."
Alex Holysword: "They were blind, then. Utterly, completely, blind." He says, picking up pace with her so as to not need to be pulled anymore, "Even when you are terrible beyond measure, scary, even..."
Even when you are monstruous...
"You have your poise. Your... aura. You are a princess of Windia, no one can take that out of you. And only a fool can be blind enough not to see it."
Selina De Windia: Selina shakes her head again, wings perking up amusedly. "No, I just did it more then. You'll demean yourself alot more if you're alone. Completely and totally. You'll humiliate yourself however anyone wants, just to get them to stay with you." Snorting at the memories, she wipes one hand on her side, unthinkingly. "I learned not to, in the end."
Alex Holysword: "Alone...."
I thought I was alone.... all alone...
With these terrible women. Darkness all around. No Cedric, not enough hope to comfort Millia... I looked strong for her. But...
These 'terrible women'...?
He looks at Vorpal over his shoulder, and smiles slightly inwardly. Somehow, he feels sad for Selina. More than he ever had before... maybe for anyone. Such loneliness.... "You said... it was not your doing? Your parents..."
Selina De Windia: "You know about it, why ask me?" Selina says levelly, not looking at him. "You heard the rumors, didn't you? Someone used a spell on me, that's all. The rest is true."
Alex Holysword: "I had not heard about that, milady..."
He looks up at her, trying to see her face, trying to imagine... "Must have been horrible. But even then, I do not think you could be anything but a noblewoman playing at being like that." He grins. "What... makes it all the more fun, I ima..." He shuts up then, certain he is being indecorous. "Sorry..."
Selina De Windia: "I imagine it does, doesn't it? Men have this odd fixation on sitting princesses in their laps." Giving him a slanted grin, she chuckles again, licking her lips in the cool crisp air. "Maybe some of them figured it out. My little cousin had better come back a virgin, though, or I'll have to pay a visit to her partner."
Alex Holysword: "She is at the Dynasty?" He looks south, his gaze extending past the mountains, "The emperors of the world. I wonder if we will ever go there..." Stirring so close to the surface on his mind, the god-king he once was remembers the Deliberative, the capital city... and as the prince feels those memories, he closes his eyes, imagining what it would be like to be in the center of the world again...
The Past that Yet Lives
Vorpal: "Aye, Aghar", Vorpal responds with a slanted smile, her glinting eyes crunching up like those of a cat as she lifts one hand to clasp the big man by the shoulder. "You, of all people, should know that it's difficult to get rid of me."
After squeezing his shoulder slightly, she takes a step backwards, her hands vanishing into the depths of her cloak again. Scanning Aghar up and down with her eyes, taking a good look at her former underling, she states: "I thought you died with the rest of them. How did you survive?"
Aye... I thought everyone was slain that day.
And at that thought, she activates Aura-Reading Technique, to check whether or not Aghar is still a mortal.
Aghar: "Har! Aye, aye, I know, commander...." He looks at Vorpal, filled with.... hope? Hope. So much hope, so much joy... a trickle of water appearing on the corner of the red-haired man's eye, seeming so... out of place, in his strong, hardy frame. He wipes it with the back of his hand, "J-just some dust. Damn refugee camp is full of sand and dust... and no job for a poor old mercenary! You seem to be very wel though... of course. Nothing stops the Pale Angel, I should know.... everyone... everyone died then..."
He looks over the hill, thoughtful, as she says asks, "Har, they thought I was dead, but I have blood of giant in me, I tell ya, commander! I got up amidst some corpses that had fell away... not the poor ones who got executed. They thought I was gone amidst these bloody bodies... but har, I'm hardier than that crystal wolfie would know!"
Vorpal: Her mystic scrutiny done, Vorpal lets out a silent sigh. A vague feeling of relief washing over her, she relaxes slightly and looks at Aghar with new eyes. His very presence, the heart beating in his stout chest, was an ample proof that there still was some hope in this world.
"Yes, you are", she smiles in the depths of her hood. There is an unusual tremor in her voice, an emotion seemingly so rare for the cold and distant Pale Angel... sympathy. "You truly are, son of giants."
Then her smile fades away as she chooses her next course of action. There was still a piece of her past life left untouched by the calamity brought upon her by her enemies. It had to be protected.
"Aghar, would you still take an order or two from me?"
Aghar: He looks at the woman... taller than her, but yet, the bulky man seems to look.... up! His lips shake for a moment, and his head bows. "Commander, now that I have found you, I will follow your orders to the depths of hell!" The man says, with a respect he had for few others, for the woman who had once humbled the red-haired, red-blooded son of giants
His fists clinch. "People kept talking about you, saying you had became a wraith, a ghost plaguing the lands, and even had been reborn as a mercenary... I heard so much legends about you, but... I never believed any. I couldn't believe you would be alive... until now."
Vorpal: "I have", she responds, her voice soft and low like murmur in the depths of a shadowy cave. "I have always been a wraith, and I have now risen again. I'm a phantom of the past, a nightmare in the minds of those miserable little bastards who betrayed our Brigade." Cracks beginning to form in the emotional dam within her, she speaks faster and faster, every word fueled with the passion and convinction of her quest, and sheer hatred towards the ones who started it all. "I have let my tale spread around, and I know it has reached their ears already. I'll let them stew. I'll let them dread the day they know will come, when the Pale Angel arrives to their very doorsteps and plucks them one by one like overripe cherry... starting with the Dragon Blooded..."
Her voice trails away and she pauses, seeming to shrink back into the protective shelter of her cloak. She had said it. She truly had said it aloud, and evoked the old memories she thought had been buried deep within the coldest recesses of her heart. The days of the Pale Angel Brigade, the days when she had led her troops from victory to victory. She had always been distant from her men, forever set apart by her supernatural birthright, and yet... paradoxally enough, those lonely days were also the ones when Vorpal had had friends, followers, companions she knew she could always rely on.
Memories of standing a little distance away in the darkness, watching how the small group of her soldiers warmed themselves around the bonfire, sharing a skin of wine and raucous jokes...
She misses those days.
Drawing a deep breath, she speaks again, calmly once more. "Aghar, I have an order for you."
Aghar: Each word impacts him. Each word...
To fight the Dragon-Blooded whelp, to make the Pale Angel brigade live again! She is a wraith, yes, but she is his commander. She is the one he respects. The large man bends then, to one knee before her. As he had done before, only once. "Say it, commander." He says, his voice shaky with hope....
Vorpal: "Get the hell out of here."
Her voice is emotionless, betraying no sign of the inner turmoil she has to go through in order to say it.
"Don't go to Windia. Don't go south. There is an army of undead there, heading up in this direction. Go anywhere else, but don't stay here. It's too dangerous, and I want you to stay alive."
Aghar: He stares up to her, in disbelief. His knuckles clash against the earth, and he seems ready.
He knows what to do. Get up, yell, scream at her, tell her he wants orders to be with her, to rebuild the brigade, for _vengeance_, to... be part of that again.... he almost does.
Almost
A long moment passes, and he simply gets up, and nods. "....I would fight to the gates of Malfeas with you, commander."
Vorpal: "Aghar..." she begins, then swallows and hesitates, searching for words.
Aye, it's the Pale Angel, not knowing what to say.
"Aghar", she begins again, once again laying a hand onto his shoulder. "What I'm asking of you is more difficult than the gates of Malfeans. You and I are the only members of the Pale Angel Brigade who are still alive. All these years, I have thought to be the only one, and the lonelines..."
She swallows again. What in blazes am I going to tell him?
"...and the loneliness has been... crushing.. I... I can't begin to describe what kind of flame of hope it is to see you alive and breathing. So I want you to be my source of strength, Aghar, and for that, I need you to stay alive." Her other hand grabs her subordinate's other shoulder, and she squeezes him slightly. "I can't bear the thought of the last link to my past life being cut off. Please understand."
Aghar: "Commander...." His words vanish, understanding.
And for the first time, seeing a Pale Angel that is not... for the first time, seeing her differently from a perfect statue of ivory, from someone that knew not pain, emotions or loneliness....
I never really knew ya. Maybe none of us did.
"I understand." He takes a couple steps back, turning around. "I will be around. Just ask around for the Aghar, and they will point you where the child of giants left broken bones and deflowered maidens. When you intend to raise back the brigade... I will wait, Commander. Only you to order me to play safe, Har!" He turns his face, trying not to show the emotion... "I will be around."
Vorpal: "Yes."
When all of this is over, and I have become a ghost, I will find you again. Maybe I'll use you as a fetter, to come and share an ale with you, and laugh with you about the old times.
Wistful dreaming, that. But in the harsh world that is Creation, maybe you'll occasionally need a comforting thought like that to keep you going.
Not thinking about what she is doing, Vorpal steps forward, spreading her arms and circling them around Aghar's massive frame. She squeezes him powerfully, her voluptuous body pressing against his. Her muscles do not even strain with effort as she lifts him off the ground, gently, as if holding a young child instead of a man whose height and mass vastly outclasses her own. She embraces him, allowing him to feel the tide and flow of her breathing, the beating of her heart through the soulsteel armor hidden under her mercenary leathers. She allows him to feel her strength, hoping desperately that it would give the big man some small comfort.
"They will pay, Aghar", she whispers into his ear. "This I swear."
Then, she lets him go, steps back and turns away. "Take care", she says, once again with the emotionless voice of the Pale Angel. Pulling the hood further up her head, she walks away, after the two other Exalted waiting ahead.
Aghar: "Oof!"
As he tries to turn away, he sees the Pale Angel... his commander... the alabaster mistress, distant like a goddess and twice as scary, always to all the brigade... come. So close... and embrace him.
Stronger than he remembered. Warmer than he ever knew. He listens to her heart, which all men doubted was even there, or just a frozen rose, a beautiful and deadly winter rose where passion should be, they joked. But no, it is there. It is real. She is real.
She is so warm! She is so... alive!
And he finally finds this out, after she has been cast out of the wheel of life. He stands there, as she walks away, not believing in what he just saw... ready to see them disappear in the mists, as phantoms, ghosts, mirages.
But she is still there.
And that moment... it was real!
"I'll be damned...."
"I will take care, commander. I will stay alive. And i will join the new brigade under you, someday. I will live to see it, no matter what it takes..." Smiling, leaving the emotions inside, leaivng the moment as a shard for dreams, as something to keep close to his heart to the end of his life... the child of giants turns away, his mind once again in whose bones to break, in whose maidenhoods to take, and how to get money during it.
Alex Holysword: Alex sees Vorpal come, and smiles, grimacing a bit on leaving the spicy talk behind, so curious, but also enjoying he won't have to think of how he is embarassed anymore. "Was it good to reminiscence, Lilith? Lots of old stories?”
Vorpal: "No", Vorpal responds curtly, walking past the other two Exalted. "He mistook me for someone else. That's all."
She walks forward, leaving the old life behind, returning to the new life that had been forged for her within the depths of the Crimson Fortress.
Not once does she look back.
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