GoldenCat/ShadesOfEventide03
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Silent Dreams
The Fountain of a Thousand Tears.
The Temple has... many floors. It is not just as tall as a mount - it is just as wide, making it seem even greater than the Boil's clocktower even though it is much, much shorter. And it seems to be all made of... some blue material. As if it was all of solidified water... translucent. No torches were needed on it.
A few worshippers walked there, a couple elementals, and the Sisters of Storms walked in their robes and their weapons. It was a real strange place. But then again, it was Spire. There was a reason it was strange, that sort of thing seemed always beneath the surface, even the temple unobtrusive until you walked close to it.
Seventh Moon was told how many believers sought shelter in the temple, and clouds kept it hidden... the dead decided to conserve neutrality, apparently. And the Goddess of Rain could only weep that she could not save even more... not that it was a happy time for her, in any way.. it was winter, time to weep for the sin committed on the great goddess of rains, her superior, so long ago...
It was after a long walk that Moon got to the innermost sanctum, where spirits of squalls and two Sisters of Storms stood.. and on the center, he saw the great tear. The Tear Of Mela.
And within the tear, was she... and she looked out, in the middle of the waves, protected, but barely covered, in an armor of the purest Blue and Black Jades...
"... Seventh Moon. I was waiting for you..."
Seventh Moon: "Thanks..." Moon answered, uncertain how else to answer, sweeping his eyes slowly over the goddess. He was never sure how to act around gods. Part of him would always be impressed, because part of him would always be the same lowly street punk looking up at them from far bellow. But he had never particularly respectful of them, no matter how lowly he was by comparison.
He tossed his head, flicking hair out of his face, and peered sideways at the Tear of Mela. "Was told ya need my help with somethin'?"
Levana: She turns inside the tear, looking straight at him.... and he can feel as if droplets of a squall fell on him, dots on his shirt, so intense is her observation of him. Her eyes shine like jewels for a moment, and then not... and the water waves. "No. I wanted to talk to you. To see you. To be sure."
"You are Ofaniel. I believed so... but now I am sure. You are Ofaniel. Although..."
Her fingers touch the front of her face as she watches his reactions...
"You are very different from him. In nearly everything."
Seventh Moon: "I ain't him." Moon answered quickly and sternly, a frown creasing his face. "He and me already had us a long fuckin' talk 'bout that."
Levana: "Oh, so you are afraid." She nods, leaning on the waves inside the tears like they were a throne.
"Even if you deny you are the reincanation of one of the most gallant, puissant, beautiful... one of the greatestest geniuses of his time, you must understand you are his heir. His old loves, enemies and creations are all around you... you do not even recognize them, do you? Worried as you are with spurning his legacy..."
Seventh Moon: "Just cause I don't want some crazy old fucker dickin' with my head don't mean I'm afraid 'a him." Moon's voice carried an undertone like a throat growl, his eyes narrowing at that affront to his... whatever the hell he had to affront. Honor, manhood, whatever.
"Sure as fuck didn't ask for any'a that either. I lived my own life just fine before all this shit started happenin'. I got my own friends and enemies. Fuck all if I need that jackasses too."
Levana: "Jackass?"
Jackass?
He dares?
He is the jackass here, this uncouth, dirty little...
Her features tighten. Her eyes become slithers, and the water begins to boil...
Somewhere far away, thunder is heard.
Before it explodes, her features soften, however, and she calms down.
"Do you have any idea who he was? What he did?"
"You..." She says, with sympathy on her voice, eyes searching his own.
"Have no idea who you are talking about, do you?"
Seventh Moon: Moon felt a tingle run through him as she stared at him with those strange eyes, the distant crash of thunder filling his nostrils with the scent of ozone. It made his skin flush faintly. For the first time in this meeting, the goddess seemed more than something cool and untouchable. A bit more than something fun to look at. There was a challenge to be had here...
"Yeah, I do. Ofaniel. Crazy fucker with a big bird. Lives in my head. Tried ta push me under so he could take a tumble with my woman." He shrugged, folding his arms across his chest with finality. "Think I got all the parts that I need ta know down, y'know?"
Levana: "And someday, you will live in another's." She says, a leg of pure water coming out of the tear... as if she dared herself to walk out, but then did not, and the leg retreated. "And you, I believe would do that, but do not believe he would. Is that really why he wished to surface? To be with your woman?" She asks, droplets touching Moon again... inquisitive.
"And your woman... who is that?"
Seventh Moon: "Somethin' like that. Close enough. Didn't start makin' noise till she shouted his name 'n shit." Truthfully, his memories about the whole incident were a little confused. There were holes in places where he knew things had happened and memories of things that he was almost certain had not.
Like Opal being molested by the two demonic women.
"Dark Angel. Anine Blackwater. Culwyeh. Fuck knows what else she's callin' herself today." He grinned to himself at that. He really should ask her about the five or six names she threw about for herself sometime... "Ain't really my woman, exactly. We're tight and all, but she ain't exclusive ta me by any stretch, y'know?"
Levana: "Oh... her. So, she is Moranine, now? Ofaniel always deserved better." She says, shaking her head, making waves inside hear tear. "Not that she was not a star of light and magic before... but falling seems to be her destiny. A sad, sad destiny. And following her there seems to be yours'... but you do not know any better, do you?"
"And you need to... to know the history of Ofaniel, one of the greatest chosen of Luna I have ever met."
Seventh Moon: ... falling seems to be her destiny...
And following her there seems to be yours...
That, finally, made him pause and consider the conversation might have been something more than just another unwanted reminder of a past he didn't want.
"Selina, she ain't..." But she was. He'd seen the things she'd do, even if she said she only did them to people who deserved it...
"I mean, I ain't..." But he was. He never once thought about just breaking it off with her, no matter what she said or did...
Moon glared at the goddess, the air around him stirring like the fur rising on an angry dog. "A'ite. Talk. Just don't count on me listenin' ta everythin' ya say. You don't got the fucker crawlin' 'round in ya head after all."
Levana: And then, her leg came again. It hovered for a moment.... and then, it touched the ground. And another leg came, and did the same. And slowly, she came out of the tear... clad in her armor, modesty held by a stream of rain coming from her hair and coiling about her in a spiral.... "Do try to be a good listener, Moon. I am going to talk about Ofaniel... a poet at heart, a warrior at life. His poetry... oh, it melted much a maiden's heart. He sang, with a voice clear as diamonds, and the world listened. He created the songs that fill the air in Windia. Ever hear them? Ever wonder why Windia has no Olde Home, no Needle Peak with the Wyld like that so close to the Boil? His songs, through the circuit of windmills... they keep the tapestry close together. They fill the holes with music, and no chaos or shadow enters Windia."
"His legacy binds kingdoms together, Seventh Moon."
The goddess begins to walk close to the tear, touching it as the elementals come to her and place her jewelry on, helping her as she stretches.... "And even the Windians. He was a Hawk, and he gave life to the children of wings. They are his children, all of the Windians. Moranine's touch helped them, she created so many winged designs in their city because he liked wings... but ultimately, they are his'. Even the Dark Angel, has a little of Ofaniel in her."
"Of course, you lived away from those wonders... in the Boil. So pehaps, it does not matter to you."
Seventh Moon: He watched her. Watched as she emerged from the tear one leg at a time. Watched her move about the room, dressed up in water. Made from water, though no less attractive for it. He watched, but he listened too, just like she asked.
"I ain't that fuckin' uncultured darlin'. I seen the windmills." There was some pride in his voice, packed into the emphasis of the word. "They got one's like 'um up in the Boil too, but I seen the ones in Winlandia."
The rest of it, all of the rest of it, not too long ago would have been difficult for him to grasp. But not anymore. He couldn't help but be curious. Ever since he met Lucraia, had met another Lunar who wasn't some insane old man, he'd begun to wonder about just what he was capable of. "He could do other shit though? Change people 'n shit?" Singing didn't interest him too much. Poetry didn't really either, even hearing that a good one could make a lady curl her toes. But changing people... that was more recent. More relevant.
Levana: She looks at Moon.... the droplets fall again. Clouds shift in the floors, walls and roof of the great hall, as a hundred candles of lighting lit. "He... could. It was not his main asset, however. Fintan, the white emperor, could make a thousand cowards into an army to follow him. Blessings could make any pair he wished, and turn lovers into sworn enemies. And Lucine could turn humans into... something else. But Ofaniel had his share. His music... his music could change a man's spirit. He was his lady's bodyguard, and some say he made her more brave, more compassionate. He read her poetry, and it changed her. He sung to those who wished to destroy her, and they changed their minds. He lifted hearts and lowered bravery with it. He moved people."
"And when he wielded Silent Dream, he could do that and more."
"He worked hard at that. For himself. His claws were to protect her." She frowns. "But when he was himself, he changed people, yes."
Seventh Moon: Music and poetry again. It wasn't what he was looking for and his face showed it. But she still had his attention, even if the things she described made him more morbidly curious than enthralled. Powers to move men like that, it seemed so dangerous. So terrifying. And here he was, playing with the same thing, with people who could do all those things she described and maybe even more.
"What about changin' 'um in other ways?" he pressed, searching for the answer he was really interested in. "Ya said he made the wing folk. Or helped. Whatever the fuck it was, he could change folk like that?"
Moon could change himself. It came so naturally that half the time he didn't even realize he'd done it, even if he resisted the impulse most of the time. Never really occurred to him that he might be able to do the same to other people.
Then, something else she said caught his attention and he briefly forgot about the first question. "Whoa, whoa, hold up. Silent Dream...?"
The name hauntingly familiar.
Levana: "That, was something he had more talent in. His music could not change many a man's heart for long, and none of his true foes would be swayed by it. It could not hold great crowds like some of his compatriots could. But it was sone of the things he was most proud of. But to change.... he could give them wings, little Moon." She smiled at him as she walked down the stairs, still pampered by her elemental helpers. "He could touch them with his totem, and give them wings, feathers, the eyes and the claw. They became one with it as well. Your totem is the.... dog, is it not? Fitting. If you learned what he knew, you could give your allies your senses, your teeth, your resilience. And by placing a little of your soul in them, make it permanent."
She was at the end of the flight of stairs, and walking towards him... "Silent Dream."
"It is a flute."
"A flute made of the heart of chaos. A weapon of an age past, elegant like that age."
"Something like Ainerach, I am sure you heard of it. Or Acheron. Moonshadow. So few of those survived..."
She stops, closer to him. But not too close. "That is... a long story. You sure you want to hear?"
Seventh Moon: She was standing close enough for the air around him to be filled with her scent. A scent that had that soft feminine odor to it, mixed so strangely with a salty tang and the metallic tingle of rain clouds. A distracting scent that nearly flooded out the words she spoke to him...
It made him think, made him remember rainy days in any number of alleyways, pressed up tight against Wes or Hannah some other gang girl.
A whiff of perfume and the memory changed and he was laying under warm, heavy blankets with Sarah drawn up hot-skinned and languid against him as the raindrops rattled the window.
It made him remember Selina, skin wet and glistening as she eased up against him in the bath, turning water that had grown cold suddenly warm.
He took a step closer to her, formalities be damned. Stood nearly toe to toe with the goddess, like rivals or lovers do, and peered into her eyes.
"Yeah, I do." The rest... the rest he had heard, would think about later. Maybe ask about afterwards. But the flute-thing she spoke of caught his attention more than even the goddess herself.
Levana: He was close. And as he came this close, for the first time, she did not seem so high and mighty. She seemed human... and aprehensive. As if a mask was breaking... and as he looked into her eyes he saw... something. Something wanting out. But then, she turned away, and begun to walk, asking him to follow. "You know there is Wyld all around us, right? On the fields to both the north and south of Spire we have freeholds... well, had. Chaos is all around. This has... many reasons. One of them is the war that happened here when Moranine decided to purge the shadows of the world, and take half of it with them. A decision Ofaniel supported, protecting her to his last breath." She says, looking into his eyes again, icily, before turning around again, fast. "And the other reason is the coming of Sangoful, the Unshaped Chaos-Spawn from whom Ofaniel ripped Silent Dream, at the end of an earlier war, when his chaos spread to the North... and for a moment, the Pole of Air ceased to exist, thrown nearly irrevocably into Chaos."
They walk in a ground that shifts like clouds, and every sends waves like a pond left after the rain... as they walk in a more comfortable place, full of pillows the colors of the storm, and a pound in the shape of an 'u', with droplets falling from the roof continually on them. She walks up to the pond, motioning the pillows for him... ".. I believe this is more comfortable for you than a table?"
Seventh Moon: The way she moved, the way she looked, the prey-aura of confused emotions around her; Moon could almost image she was human. She wasn't, of course, but it never failed to amaze him how similar gods could come. Same faults, same emotions, same desires. And reading Levana was just as difficult as reading any mortal woman would be. But there is something there that he can feel, even as she moves away quickly to hide it.
Prey on the run...
Of course he's going to follow.
It takes him a few moments to get use to the idea of walking clouds. He trails behind her at first, frowning and roughly prodding the floor bellow him with the toe of his boot just to make certain it won't suddenly give way bellow him. Once he's certain he won't suddenly plunge to the bottom of the temple though, he quickly catches up to Levana.
"Much," he grins slightly, taking no hesitation to flop into the nest of pillows, shifting and settling until he's sprawled comfortably across them. And leaving no choice for the goddess but to sit close if she sits at all.
He thought for a moment before he gave an answer to anything she said. Thought about Selina fucking up half the world to 'save' the other. And realized he could see her doing just that. Thought about himself standing by her the whole time while she did. And hoped to high fuck that he'd never have to find out if he would...
In the end, he avoided commenting on that part of the tale at all. "I met some fae. One'a the fuckers betrayed us. Other's been a'ite so far, though says not ta trust it. So I don't."
"If that Sangofuloko or whatever the fuck it's call was so fuckin' dangerous, why the hell did he keep part'a it 'round?"
Levana: "Many reasons, I guess. It was powerful, and power is always dangerous. It was a piece of chaos... and the army that was Sangoful was an artistic piece that took his fancy. And in the end... it was too hard to keep it destroyed, and simply easier to rip part of it and keep it close. It was not just Silent Dream that he made out of it... his armor, the Chalice Spiral, had parts of the Chaos-being ingrained in it as well." She nods, looking at him... seeing she is making him think. She lazes on the pond, remembering... resisting the urge to hold herself "He played for me once... as I rained over him. It was... it simply was."
"Silent Dream, as well as his other artifacts, have been lost in time... last I saw Silent Dream, it was used by a buffoon of a Lunar before the contagion. You... must feel it, no? It was attunned to his soul's music... and his soul lives in you." She smiles, as she looks at him... and the droplets being to form a melody... a melody that tugs at his heart, to take him away...
"Surely, if you were to find it... much would change in your fight, no?"
Seventh Moon: "Yeah, I guess so..." he answered, shifting again where he sat. "Fuck all if I know where it is though, darlin'. Shit like that's bit bigger 'n me, y'know?"
But it didn't have to be. He knew that. He wasn't nobody anymore. He hung out with princes and generals, slept with world famous assassins, and now was sitting here talking to a goddess. They all had their titles and legends to keep them safe, keep them larger than life. He was still just... Moon. Something like these things she was talking about could give him something to stand on. To really stand equal to the rest of them.
Did he feel it? Moon looked uncertain at her question, rhetorical or not. Every time she said the name it provoked a sense of deja-vu within him. He didn't know enough about what he was to call it a connection. It was almost more of an echo. He tried though. Closing his eyes, he tried to feel some connection. He focused on just the name at first, but that soon became lost. Lost in a song, a melody of raindrops pattering around him, washing over his senses. Calling him away, sending a deep throb through his chest.
A'ite, where the fuck is it?
Where
Levana: Music. He felt the music on his soul. The music on his heart.
Tugging strings of nothingness and showing him a road of rainbow bricks.
And where does it lead?
"I know. You would never go looking for it. I can see just by looking at you. It is not you. Its music. Its power. Its magic. And even if you did," She adds... "That you are not the only one that might look for it... the remains of Sangoful's army have long looked for it... after what the Guardians of Destiny, Myria, Ofaniel and their friends did." She whispers, not trying to break his concentration.... and somehow, enhancing it, as she makes him think of it... "It is a fragment tore from him after the Guardians wove Creation back in place. It is fury and song, it is creation and silence, it is... above you. Beyond you. Greater than you."
And he finally feels it.
He feels it... somewhere... to the Northwest. Not too far. To the Northwest from where he stood...
Seventh Moon: Close...
So damn close he could almost reach it. Lost in the song, the sensation, he actually tried to reach it. His arm stretched out for it in the direction it tugged him, fingers grasping...
Until they nearly touched the goddess.
As if just the proximity of her presence had been enough to break the spell, a long sigh loosed from his throat and his hand fell back to the pillows. He eyes snapped back open, peering up at her glassy and unfocused, but cleared a moment later.
"... why you doin' this?" he asked, brows knitting as he peered up at her questioningly. It had been that question, thrust suddenly into his mind, that had ended the trance. "Ya knew Ofaniel, said so yaself. Ain't said nothin' but praise for him or damn close. You were deep on him, weren't ya?"
Levana: "... Yes. He flew in my skies. He took my droplets on his feathers. He played for me, at times. Always there... always showing me what I could not have. He loved his lady. He fought his friends and died for her. I could shed my tears over him, and he would comfort me, and remind me..." She stops. She is holding herself now. And then she looks at him... a look that is charged with emotion, yet... almost impossible to describe. "... and I am doing this because I hope that you can become something worthy of having his soul inside you."
Seventh Moon: "... darlin', I appreciate ya tryin' ta help me, but I ain't gonna live up ta no fuckin' ancient dead heroes legacy, even if I am him or got him rattlin' in my head or any'a that shit," he said, his soft but hard with conviction. He met her gaze and didn't rebuff the look in her eyes, but he knew it wasn't meant for him.
How fucked is that? Fuck knows how many years the bastards been dead and she's still pinin' for him...
... poor darlin'...
"That just ain't me. Ain't never gonna be. I don't fuckin' know what I can do, much as I've been tryin' ta find out lately. But I do know who I am. And that's just some poor dumb fuck in over his head half the time. I'm just out there tryin' ta do right for once..."
Levana: That... does not make her happy. She felt... a deep, deep sadness, and he could feel the waters going colder. A deeper blue, as well. "... yes... you would never be. You would never get to his feet. Never..." She lets out, closing her eyes.... "Try to... not embarass him, at least. Respect him. His legacy. Wether you want to or not..."
You carry it.
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