IceAndWave/FuturePossible
Future Possible
In which the a mountain is climbed, the possible haunts the certain, and an ancient work is found...
The 16th Day of Descending Air, Realm Year 764
The wind howls, much as it has done for the past two days; a harsh wind, it turns the snow into knives that cut the warmth out of those walking up the lonely path cut into the side of the mountain. Visibility is poor, and only the carved marker stones keep everyone on track, trudging upwards.
Sian would complain about the cold, only he doesn't feel it as strongly as the others do.
Cassia pulls the coat tighter about herself as she climbs, watching Venia ahead of her lest she fall, tiredly trugging up the hill.
Venia manages to hide the hand gripping Sian's coat with her body at least, as much holding herself up as walking, bitterly wishing she'd remained silent back in Whitewall.
Sian occasionally looks back to check on them, but doesn't speak, as his words would likely be lost in the wind.
Cassia keeps on climbing, too cold and miserable right now to actually complain.
The path turns sharply, cutting around the mountain and leading straight into the wind. Streams of snow form white lines against the gray background. The marker stones, against all desire, insist that that this is the correct path, the strange river-like carving described at the journey's start on each one.
Sian sighs, and attempts to block as much of the wind as he can, better able to resist it than the women.
Venia grumbles, "I don't like this... what sort of priestesses make a temple out in this hell? Crazy ones. We're going to the crazy priestesses insane temple."
Cassia stumbles a little as she turns into the wind, but keeps walking after she rights herself, blinking against the snow the wind whips into her face.
The path seems to stretch out into infinity, the snow forming an endless tunnel that obscures all else. The sudden appearance of sunlight is, therefore, something of a surprise; the wind cuts out without any warning and the blizzard conditions mellow to a light snowfall, and all within a few heartbeats.
Sian staggers, used to leaning into the wind, and almost drags Venia down as well.
The clear air reveals a lost city, below the mountain. Lonely broken towers poke out of the yards-thick snow, the outlines of streets visible in shadow and shape.
Venia holds tightly to him, braced against the expected fall. She peers around his shoulder, "Have I mentioned I don't like this? I don't think I have..."
Cassia almost falls, her usual grace numbed by the storm, though she keeps herself upright just about. "At least it's warmer.."
"Mhm." He reaches back to take Venia's hand, and looks to both of them. "Shall we go find these priestesses?"
Cassia nods repeatedly, brushing some of the thick snow off herself.
"If I said no, I'd have to walk back, wouldn't I?" Venia shivers at the thought. "Let's get this over with. I want to go back, get warm again."
"Mm, okay." He starts to lead them down the mountain, trying to find the easiest path for them.
The walk is much easier without the wind fighting, the path leading up and around the mountain. It stops at the foot of a narrow stairway, cut straight and true, going ever upwards along a narrow ridge. At the top of the stair, on a singular peak, rests a many-domed structure that glows golden in the sunlight.
"Well. At least it's pretty. Maybe they aren't so bad."
"I thought they were crazy?" Sian smiles faintly, starting up the stairs.
"They must be... all these stairs..." Cassia starts to climb too.
The stair is the better part of a half-mile long, without landings or rest-stops it climbs relentlessly towards the Temple of Untrod Paths. Close to the summit the air, warmed by the sunshine, gets damp and cold, and a thick fog washes up the ridge, enveloping the walkers.
Without wanting to, the three become seperated in the fog, unable to see or hear each other, and left with nothing but the stairs.
Cassia looks around her at the thickly enveloping mist, "...Venia? Sian?" she asks of the fog, trying to make out any sign of them in the grey.
A shape is visible in the mist, a figure walking down the stairs towards her. It emerges, and Cassia looks into her own face, a few years older, and with a quantity of makeup she has never tried. An elegant dress clings to her body, as this other Cassia looks up and half-smiles, "Hello."
Cassia stares at the... other Cassia. This... is me? Will be me? Where is Venia? Sian? "Hello.." she says back quietly, another look around for the others...
"He said he'd look after me," the older Cassia says, "Teach me things, make me strong. If I let him do... things to me." She sniffs, "It had just happened, I didn't know any better." She takes a few steps down the stairway.
Cassia follows almost by instinct, "...Who did? ...why... why did you need looking after?"
She turns, "I had just changed," her fiery anima flares up briefly, "I was scared, didn't know what to do... The merchant, he took me in, told me what I was... I owe him so much." She cries, "But he doesn't want me anymore. Takes the younger girls instead. What did I do wrong?"
"Nothing, nothing..." she reassures... herself. I would never have done that? Would I? But you didn't know then, did you Cassia?
The other Cassia walks onwards, "I'll prove myself to him, I know I will. I'll get that bitch in the Palace, that'll prove how much I love him." She continues onwards, fading into the mist below.
She's talking about Asura... "...No... you mustn't hurt her..." she says to the... her, as she vanishes into the mists. I should climb up... so she turns, and she does. I could have been with him... she shivers.
The clink of metal and leather sounds from above, now, the regular footsteps of someone in armour. Emerging from the mist, the warrior wears Cassia's face, if anything still older. Red jade plate encases her, a mighty sword hooked over her shoulder, and one eye is covered with a black patch, the skin around it visibly burned somehow.
"...Hello?" she asks in greeting to her... martial self.
With a single eye she looks her younger self over, the practiced gaze of the soldier, judging her capabilities. "Greetings," she replies, letting go of the hilt that protrudes over her shoulder.
Cassia doesn't flinch as she is studied by the warrior woman, studying her in return, "...What happened to your eye?"
"A fight with the Dead," she shrugs, "I've had hundreds." She shrugs and unhooks the breastplate of her armour, setting it down and sitting on the stairs. Her arms and shoulders bear dozens of scars, "It's good to rest, though."
Cassia winces at the number of scars, her eyes still following the paths they trace on... her own skin. "...Rest?"
"Things are getting worse. They attack almost every night now, since Whitewall fell." The soldier shrugs, "Sometimes I want to just go somewhere else, but this is my home and I will fight for it." She stands up, and hooks the armour back on, "A few minutes is all I need, but I get it so rarely." Practiced strides start taking the stairs in again, heading down into the mist. "Rest where you can," are her departing words.
whitewall fallen... home under attack... How much of this is her life? How much is mine? Who did I run to then..? It is home though...
Surrounded by fog, Sian stands apparently alone. The sound of footsteps echo down the stairs, and a gray shape is visible in the swirling mist, approaching. Suddenly visible, Sian recognises himself - different somehow, but definitely him.
Sian blinks at this, and wonders if he has somehow wandered into a mirror, reaching out a hand to touch the apparition.
The other figure nods, "I'm real," touching his hand to Sian's.
Sian instantly recoils, drawing the hand back as fast as he can, and stares at the other Sian. "What?"
"Working for the Syndics has taken me all over the North. I have seen things I couldn't imagine in their service, but I can't help but feel that they are disappointed in me," the other Sian walks slowly down the stairs, "I wonder what I did wrong, sometimes. I tried to be fair, impartial, to only do what they wanted, even if that hurt."
Sian frowns at this, idly rubbing at his hand, as if injured. He doesn't speak.
"I don't know how much longer I'll stay here, though. It's almost like they don't need me anymore." He shrugs and continues walking down the stairs, "I wonder what else there is to see? I would like to have a wife, I think."
Sian starts to follow, wondering where this is going.
The other Sian walks into the mist, a gust of wind causes it to swirl around him, and the figure vanishes as quickly as it arrived. Just then, from further up the stairs, the sound of sobbing echoes down. Deep, wracking sobs that speak of endless pain.
Sian turns quickly at this, and looks back at where the other Sian was, frowning deeply to himself before heading back up. This is not what he expected.
A figure huddles on the stair, sobbing with the pain of the wretched and heartbroken. Male, and dressed in the functional clothes of the North, occasionally it says, "I didn't want to! I didn't want to!"
Sian pauses a short distance away, frowning a little less. The figure looks out of the huddle at the movement next to it. Once again Sian sees his own face, this time filled with an endless grief, the eyes pits that speak of a broken soul. "I didn't want to, but I had no choice! Please forgive me!"
Sian stares once more. "What... what did you do?"
"I had to! They had already killed her mother, and I loved her so much. But the Syndics said that if I didn't stop them millions more would die!"
"Who? What are you talking about?"
"I killed my daughter!" he collapses into tears again. "Forgive me? Please?" is sobbed out.
Sian gazes at him, stunned by this, but unable and unwilling to see this version of himself in such torment. "I... I forgive you."
"Thank you," he cries, looking up, eyes red and raw. He grabs Sian's sleeve, "Treasure what you have. Treasure it!" He then lets go and returns to his sorrow, but which sounds lessened.
Sian leans down, and touches his shoulder carefully to give the man a small measure of reassurance, before starting up the stairs once more in search of Cassia and Venia.
Cut off from her friends, isolated by the fog, Venia hears footsteps coming down the stairs towards her. Soft, padding footsteps, and a figure can be seen through the mist. Visibly slinking along, the figure becomes resolves through the murk into Venia - a starkly different Venia. Wearing rough furs, her hair short and scraggled, her skin covered in swirling scars. She smiles wickedly, "Hello."
Venia blinks, backing away from her and yelling out to Sian and Cassia. "I, uh, hello? You're... me. This can't be real, this isn't happening."
"I was weak, once," the savage Venia says, "Let them take me, do things to me." She takes a few steps down the stairs, "Couldn't do anything about it then, but I did something about it later. I found someone, someone strong. He gave me these," she points to the scars, "but he also gave me power. What do you have?"
Venia takes another few steps back. "I... what? What are you talking about? I have friends, I have plans... I'll get through this somehow... why am I telling you this? I should be asking the questions!"
"Yes, you should," the other Venia walks down the stairs, her gait effortlessly seductive, "I had friends, too, but they couldn't help. I hope yours are better than mine were."
"What are you doing here? What's going on?" She bites her knuckle viciously to try to clear her head, taking up a weak fighting stance immediately after as the shadow gets closer. "Stay back! Probably some sort of Fae..."
Walking past her confused self, the scarred Venia looks her in the eyes, the same mismatched eyes as she herself has. "He did it to me, too. I just found an answer. Have you?" she says, and then walks down the stairs, and is swallowed by the mist.
Venia rubs at her temples, backing her way up the stairs now, twisting and turning rapidly to try to avoid being surprised again. She mumbles underneath her breath, slipping once or twice but avoiding falling as her heels clip the edge of the stairs.
From the stairs above comes the *click* *click* of polished shoes on marble, a sound Venia recognises from her more civilised times. Stepping out of the mist Venia sees herself in the finery of the Realm; an elegant silk dress, her hair flawlessly coiffed, the whole a package designed to excite both mind and lower senses. She looks at Venia, her eyes dark and cold, "How did this happen?"
Venia freezes in place, mouth agape. It's some time before she speaks. "I made a mistake... two of them. That's all."
The contempt in the gaze is palpable, "You should have known better. Mistakes will cost you." This other Venia steps slowly down the stairs, her gown restricting her to small steps. "What are you going to do now?"
"I... I don't know." She shrinks in on herself. "I'm trying to get to the Temple, but you won't let me."
"I'm not stopping you. You stop yourself, always and only," she gestures up the stairs, "Think about that."
"But... you are me!" She does what the copy says nonetheless, trying to puzzle this strangeness out. It's not really happening, but at least they aren't eating her soul yet.
"No. You're not, and you never will be," the elegant woman walks down the stairs, "You see, I never made those mistakes."
Venia trips again, not really needing the new addition to all this confusing. Different versions of her? Why is she the weakest one of all possible Venias? Now she mostly wants to find Sian and get that promised dose a bit early.
The other Venia's footsteps fade into the mist below, leaving only the faintest hint of perfume in the air.
As quickly as it arrived, the mist fades, sinking into the depths on either side of the ridge, leaving bright sunshine to bathe the pilgrims once again, now only a short climb from the doors of the Temple.
Cassia blinks in the bright sunlight, looking confused, though relieved once she sees the other two, running over to them.
Sian stops again, and locates the women, obviously a little disturbed by what he saw.
Venia just sinks to her knees, sitting on her heels in the snow and watching them. "I dislike this place again."
Sian just nods in agreement to this, and offers her his hand. "Hopefully, we're almost done."
Cassia just nods absently.
Venia lets herself be pulled up, docile and distracted for the moment. "They were... me."
"I saw myself as well," Sian starts to lead her up the steps, motioning for Cassia to follow.
The first of the others... Cassia shivers.
The doors, huge bronze constructions carved with strange symbols that attract the eye, open smoothly at the approach. Warm golden light spills out from within, and silhouetted within is the thin figure of a woman dressed in layers of veils, "Welcome, travellers, to the Temple of Untrod Paths. You have been expected."
Sian shields his eyes with his free hand, trying to make the woman out.
We have? Cassia thinks.
Venia blinks and watches the woman lazily. "Sorry if we're late, but you should really clean the mists off your steps if you want people on time..."
"The fog is part of the temple. It shows you possibilities, things that might happen, or that might have happened." The priestess bows, "It is never easy."
Sian lowers his hand, accepting this. "May we enter?"
"You may. We have refreshments and food within, and it is much warmer. Please, come in," she bows again, and steps out of the direct light.
Sian does so, after the women.
...Things that might happen? Cassia suddenly looks more nervous. "...Thank you," she says though, at the invitation to come in, and the offer of food, stepping inside.
Venia is appeased by the promise of warmth, wandering slowly inside after Cassia takes the lead.
Sunlight fills the interior of the Temple, shining in through a massive crystal dome. At the centre of the hall, surrounded by a golden large cage, is a sphere of everchanging colour and texture, floating in the air. It ripples with rainbows and seagulls, then changes again.
Sian blinks at this, and idly unbuttons his coat to help deal with the sudden warmth.
Cassia stops as she sees the strange sphere within the cage, letting out a wondering gasp.
Venia continues wandering, looking at the walls and dome. She stays close to the other two, though, hands wringing back and forth behind her back.
A table at the side of the chamber is set with food and bottles of wine, tended to by the shaven-headed priestesses of the Temple. "Please," the one who greeted them says, "Take a seat."
Venia sits rapidly, unthinkingly following the command.
Sian smiles a little at Cassia's reaction, but he too takes a seat.
Cassia takes slow steps over to the table, not taking her eyes off the sphere, "...What is it?" she asks of the priestess.
"It is pure possibility," she replies, "Also called the Wyld."
Sian stops smiling fairly rapidly at that.
"...Oooh." Cassia's expression takes on a little wariness, and far more curiousity as she looks at it anew.
"That can't be good. It's supposed to be far far away... What happens if it decides to stop being a pretty ball in a cage?" Venia asks.
"Thousands of years ago, scholars and sorcerers came together and captured a small fragment of it. They bound it here and studied it at length, trying to learn all that they could." She turns at Venia's comment, "That will not happen, the sorceries that created this place reinforce themselves with every day that passes."
Cassia absently nibbles on some of the food as she watches the Wyldball.
"Well, it is the wyld, isn't it? I thought anything could happen with it, so it's a matter of time..." She shrugs, not really wanting to think about something like that any longer, and goes for a bottle of wine.
Sian tries not to look at the sphere, and instead focuses on food, which he finds pleasant.
The food on the table is both well-made and plentiful, and the wine is excellent. The warmth of the Temple washes out the chill of the journey, although not the memories.
Cassia starts to eat more heartily, realising how hungry she is, still glancing up at the ball on occasion.
Sian eats quietly, assuming the priestess will speak again when she is ready.
Venia is rather less hungry, still a bit sick to her stomach from her walk. Still, she eats some, not wanting to seem to criticize the fare by not participating.
"The Junction Sphere you came for is being prepared," the priestess says, "It cannot be hurried."
Sian nods slightly. "We will wait."
Another priestess emerges from one of the doors, carrying a small black leather bag. Whatever is contained within is no bigger than a young man's fist, and she passes it without a word to the other. "Ah, it is done. It will be another fifty years until the next one is needed."
Sian rises from his chair to accept the item.
The bag weighs both more and less than would be expected, almost as if its very weight changes from moment to moment. The priestess inclines her head, "The journey down is easier, the mists only affect those arriving."
Venia looks over to Sian, standing a few moments later and clearly wanting to go.
"Thank you, then, for this and the meal."
Cassia stands too, "Thank you for the meal, yes."
"It is rare that we have visitors, we try to make their stay here as pleasant as possible."
"Does the mist thing always happen?" Venia asks.
The priestess nods, "Always."
"The same? Different?"
"The experience is the same, but those you meet are not."
Sian says, "Can you tell us about the ones we saw today?"
"They were possibilities, things that could have happened had things been different, or things that might yet happen. It is different for everyone who visits us."
"You do not know the specifics, then."
"I do not. I am sorry."
Venia nods. "It is... understandable."
"No apology is needed... I was merely curious." Sian bows deeply to her.
"You are welcome to stay for as long as you desire. The Temple's gardens are bountiful, and we can provide pleasant company, should you so wish."
Sian looks to the two women.
"...Could we see the gardens?" Cassia asks of Sian, with hopeful curiousity.
"If you like, yes."
Venia remains quiet, mostly contenting herself with the thought of warm beds instead of having to trudge back into the snow. And surely he'd give her what she needs here...
