Quendalon/Session24FetekInterlude
In the demon-wrought library, the darkness of Kaihan washed over Breath-of-Midnight. Five-Moons, the name echoed through his mind. Five-Moons, lover of Amalion, it was strange to see those words on the pages of these ancient books, written about him... but not... him.
Tall and swarthy, he studied his handsome refection. He fastidiously adjusted his dark, silken tunic and combed his long mustachios. Just as carefully, he shifted the color of his eyes and the length of his hair and a myriad of other, tiny details. Tonight everything had to be perfect. Tonight was the Festival of Luna Resplendent, when the Lady shines most brightly upon her Favored Ones. And tonight, after years away, he would be reunited with his beloved.
Startled, he jumped. Fetek was not accustomed to these visions. The Chosen of the Unconquered Sun seemed plagued by their past; he had believed himself above that. But in his heart, he feared now that that was simple arrogance. He turned to speak of this to the Descending Sun, Tepet Aekino, who sat beside him, sharing the book that spoke of his past.
He whirled on the dance floor, his radiant bride in his arms. While Five-Moons battled the Wyld Folk in the East, Amalion had been busy advising those Solars of the Twilight Caste on the construction of a great Manse on the Blessed Isle, one that would help keep the cursed Fey from Creation. Pride welled up in his heart as he looked upon the demon whom he called his wife.
But in this grand ballroom, all was not well. Although he turned his face to Amalion, he sensed the presence of another. And, she was most unwelcome this happy night.
Like a cloud obscuring the moon’s fair light, Sharn Larenn entered the hall. She looked about, her eyes filled with false mirth, until they fell upon Five-Moons. She moved away from those with whom she had been speaking and watched him as he danced a graceful mazurka. Petty jealousy poured from her like rancid oil. Through the whole of the evening her venomous glare followed Five-Moons and his spouse, a black flaw in an otherwise perfect celebration.
Breath-of-Midnight’s eyes widened in surprise, and then narrowed as Tepet Aekino’s head slowly turned to meet his gaze. After a moment, they both returned to the book. They read in silence of the lives of these Exalted, of the fashioning of the great maul Thundering Triumph, of the Battle of Leiji Plain, of the razing of Mudanjiang.
Mudanjiang was in flames. A crimson glow flooded the moonless night, lighting the deep darkness. In what was once the marketplace, tongues of flame writhed reflected in the moonsilver armor of an enraged form - half man, half serpent. All around him, Essence raced as his anima blazed with great silver dragons dancing through ever-shifting runes of grey and blue. He strode through the ruined streets seeking his prey, the bitch Larenn.
For what seemed like the ten-thousandth time, they had challenged one another. Magics high and low had flown between them, while men and spirits ran in fear and the breath of Hesiesh devoured the town. This would be the end, though. Five-Moons tired of this. He tired of Larenn; her constant plottings and interference. Tonight, he thought, flexing his talons, he would put a stop to it.
Once again, the two Exalted looked at one another. Fetek struggled to keep his expression placid as he careful gathered up the various tomes he had been researching and slowly moved down the table, away from the Descending Sun. He was confused, disturbed, but Tepet Aekino seemed to take it in stride. Indeed, the Twilight seemed almost dismissive. With a look, Aekino reminded Fetek of his own words, spoken in conversation not that long ago: “You Children of the Sun live too much in the past. The past is over, only the future matters.” Breath-of-Midnight sighed, softly. Easy words, he now realized. Easy words.
