#——— ⟢ 𝐃𝐔𝐀𝐋𝒘𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒔 】₊ rafal.
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nelithic · 1 year ago
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He'd traded words with an Emblem once, admitted something at the tail end of their exchange regarding siblings. A belief that he truly meant- that he well and truly believed. 'Elder siblings are not the only ones who care.'
Stalking the docks- searching for his older sister with a grim expression that staved off strangers in a sweeping radius- that opinion clung tightly to the truth. He pushed past the men and women going one way with single-minded focus. Rafal stuck out. Rafal didn't care. He thought about transforming and scouting for her from the air just to make the search quicker, and only vanquished the thought at Nel's sighting.
"Here you are, sister." An angry furrow cleaved the space his brows even before he approached her. So easily sprung up at any annoyance. At this juncture it was a signal of something deeper; worry and distress. Nel hadn't been on his ship. Word of major assignments to different continents flooded his ears instead. It was easy to connect the dots.
"You are on a different ship. Did you tell them it was a mistake?"
But it wasn't a mistake. He knew that. His shoulders tensed preemptively with the burden of that knowledge, wanting to erase it. Wanting to change the rules. Rafal had promised to be her brother to him, to her, and to himself, and he had meant it.
A frustrated sound whistling sharply through his nose, he dragged his fingers through his hair. ". . .No matter. I can simply accompany your ship. I can fly if I have to—if there isn't room for another passenger. If they intend to stop me they may contend with my fangs."
chance was the word the weak used to explain the planning of the strong — so had it often been said in gradlon, land of their origin. whatever opinion one may hold on such a maxim, it is what occurs to her curiously now as a pale, stormy twin pushes his way through the milling crowds towards her. despite his thunderous expression, nel's loses a fraction of its own with relief. before she can say, however, that she had been searching the docks for him as well and so his finding her here was not only owed to coincidence, he launches into accusation: more and more familiar now since he had shed his skin as nil, but still yet an adjustment from the meek and compliant temperament she had known for centuries.
yet there are certain things that remain the same. a frenetic energy beneath the outburst that speaks to its root. she finds a smile touching her lips whilst he rails, for what greater comfort can there be to a fraught fell dragon, ever mindful of her other half's safety, than to know that the desire to remain at one another's side is returned in full?
it eases the part of her that had, for a moment in time once, feared— doubted— that his triumphant rejection of her after the shell of nil had been sundered was not so made of flagrant display as she had adamantly believed. in the clutch of that urgency at the fall of a world, it was all she had had to believe, and so she had clung to it then with an unshakeable tenacity and a willful denial of any other truth ironically befitting of sombron's once-favored heir.
she is remitted for it now, in each moment like this one.
"you know as i do that that is not an option, rafal," comes her anticipated, staid reply — stone to curb his agitated flame. "you must have heard that my destination is hostile to our kind. i would not tolerate you putting yourself at risk." a quick headshake. "and before you ask — i will be careful."
quiet gaze returns to his, garnet to garnet matching, and with the disquieted shadows of his face and figure to the waiting background of large ships moored for imminent sail, there comes an undeniable pang in her chest. were they somewhere quiet and alone together, she would perhaps transform and enfold him in the microcosmic blue of her wings in an embrace that had always come more naturally than those of this smaller and somehow inadequate form. instead, she only takes his hand, holds it firmly as though she intends to lead him somewhere as she always has.
"i understand how you feel. to be separated when you have waited a thousand years is indeed cruel beyond words. i am also pained that i cannot watch and protect you as well, as i have since we were nestlings. it will be the first time we have taken long missions apart. i trust you will return to me safely."
a statement, not a request. at the fall of a wholly different kind of world, it remains still an adamant belief — a willful denial of any other truth.
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nelithic · 4 months ago
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AND ONCE MORE, THOUGH WILD EYES replace an anxious peace and feral grin an easy smile, there is a ghost of identity there. something about griss' turn of phrase, the way a thought occurs to him——curiously percipient——and the way he chooses to speak it. the similarities are intangible and gone the very same moment ; she could not explain what, precisely, it was.
only acknowledge that architecture of absence with a nod. "the arenas, then. i agree." and to rafal, who speaks next on his plans, a similar approval. "take care you do not draw scrutiny. this church seems to be. . . fond of their secrets."
the little emperor edelgard. her skeletal axe. the wariness in her gaze as she coveted her shadows from a compendium of eyes too keen to pry them open. it is not my intention to keep secrets, she had said something once to effect, and it had come to the dragon's realization after that it must be a part of the nature of fódlan itself. it was a different manner of inborn and instinctive conditional untrust than she had been born and raised knowing, though of adjacent tenor.
red eyes shift unconsciously to her twin, as if wondering if he has in their time here perceived the same; but at the same moment, he turns the same cardinal red upon her, bold with the familial authority of concern wearing fortitude's face——and with a statement, brushes thoughts of wariness from her mind for now. she sits up a little straighter: "of course."⠀(⠀they have each their own fell pride's constitution ; on her, appreciation wears acquiescence's face.⠀)⠀a second time. . . the admonishment made into warning does not go unnoticed. her face does not falter, but a subtle gravity creeps behind her eyes, recalling——more than the cold fang of steel——the wild despair of a brother. "it will not occur a second time. i also meant to include myself."
and just as quickly is flown. "then it is decided. for now, we will rest and restore our strength." griss' condition and evident hunger notwithstanding, even the durability of dragons was susceptible to wear and stress.
"and then our work begins."  
₊ mortal immortality ┃┃┃ end.
Mortal Immortality [Griss, Nel, & Rafal]
Recovery | Infirmary task
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nelithic · 1 year ago
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rafal's rancorous obstinance is not an uncommon sight; the hesitation of unspoken dread less so. she has rarely seen that pall come over his face — not even so often as nil, and hardly since — and the pale of her hand closes tighter about his in equally wordless answer. she knows he would not finish the thought, just as she would not, just as neither of them had ever been taught precisely how to; as gradlon's survivors, they are the scar tissue of dark scales and lightning, not soft entreaties and upturned palms. even centuries in safer harbors, quieted by the pastels of lythos' sanctuary, could not change the lesson that plainly offered hearts were open for cutting.
she accepts what he gives — that silence, pregnant with unturned grief, a resonance she shares. she hears it in her mind like the sonorous ring of a tuning fork: a perfect pitch between imperfect twins.
she does not need to say i know this.
she would not do him the disservice of questioning that he would return any less than whole and safe.
with a dragonstone and a strength all his own, greater than hers, he was no longer nil, sheltered beneath her wing. the corners of her eyes soften, happy for his boast. "i would accept no other outcome," she replies with calm certainty, letting her hand fall — empty but still warm — to her side again when he releases their hold. and as though buoyed by that, the thunder returns to his expression again, and nel thinks that she could remember this moment even should all other memories fade with time: rafal, chest forward and head high, reassuring her that his strength would not fail him, making equal demands of her to return as she always had. the cloudless cerulean sky; the surging crowds of the pier.
( a world where they were truly halves. )
"rest assured, our promise remains first in my mind. i refuse to give you grief and deprive you of your twin; that has been the cause of my actions all these years."
as fell dragons, they part in triumph only: "when we return, i look forward to hearing what you have experienced. save your finest tales for me — i will cherish every word."
                   ₊ rafal ┃┃┃ end.
No matter how fiercely his complaints gusted there could be no budging Nel's stone. Rafal wilted at the cool reach of her reason, the fingers reaching deep and the words even deeper. Resignation would have suited him here, he knew her sensibility better than anyone- she knew the one known as 'Rafal' more than enough- but it was still a time of firsts and a willful son of Sombron rooted so stubbornly in his ways didn't have to like it.
They would fly two separate stretches of the same sky, further apart than they'd ever been before. His lip curled in distaste, not at her, never at her, but at the insolence of probability and chance and fate itself to tear two twins from one another at their invisible seams. It lied even on the fringe of an insult- after everything this was to happen? After Rafal renewed his promise he would be made a liar so soon? The only reprieve in this moment was honesty; his emotions were far from a mask.
"This will be the first and only time." The sound of a childish insistence even to his own ears. He would have paced like a caged beast if she allowed it, if he hadn't wished to preserve the warm link of their hands for as long as he could. "You know what I would do if you only said the word. There is no meaning in my existence if I cannot be there to protect you." If you are not there beside me. "If you did not return to me, Nel. . .I would . . ."
He swallowed on the unspeakable end of that answer. It would have been easier to smooth over these things as 'Nil'; Rafal by comparison waffled on his intense words and hoped for the best. That he would somehow be understood. If Rafal would one day fall on the sword of his own atonement, it was still Nel that he lived for- his comforting scabbard, his defense against the ills of the world, the home he returned to. He pursed his mouth on these thoughts, ignoring the mewing of the gulls above them all the while, the salty stench of the sea behind him, one part of him- the silent, undeserving, never to be worded part- wishing for their time in Lythos again.
"But if we must be apart, then I shall not break your trust. It is less my intention to cause you worry. I will not fall—whatever concerns you possess for me may die here. There is no chance that I, Rafal, would be cut down on some foreign shore."
He dropped his hand- he let her go- not because he wanted to, but because someone between them had to. Because they were always two contrary halves of a whole; he who roused and she who caused slumber; she who reached and he who pulled away. Comforted by that, a familiar petulance even returned with his spirit. The arrogant bearing, the love too strong and too proud for easy sentiments: "So do not break your promise to me either. I will not forgive you if you do, sister."
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nelithic · 6 months ago
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FOUL AND UNFAIR AND FEARSOME SHE MAY BE, but derelict of her twin's mind and wellness she would never stand re-accused of henceforth. these topics may be strange to her, but they had lived through peace before and not once had she thought to stray to such matters. always, even in prosperity, she perceived threat ; even in harbor, she gazed out to sea for storms, heedless of the churning and changing life behind that she so closely safeguarded. perhaps this was the beginning— an indication of the alien rebirth she had claimed to sorely desire but could never accept.
peace. a peace where she and rafal stood amidst little ones in a ballroom, at the side of transient lives among confectionaries, and talked of preferences of the heart.
a peace where rafal loudly and affectedly spurned her for intrusiveness, stamped his foot and beat the wings now newly in his possession, and turned his back for want of sinless and puerile dignity — and in doing so drew out not rebuke but the lift of her smile. had these not been the scenes of her fondest dreams, unable ever to be realized?
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with that in mind, it is difficult to swallow the tenor of her mirth when he calls her ' fearsome ' ; a playful note from her mordant and equally as fearsome little brother — how uncommon. "to my knowledge, as your older sister, i have never been required to answer to your interrogations. now, yourself on the other hand. . . "
but answer he does, gradually and in some fashion ; and that answer stops her momentarily in surprise, returning the two of them again to the very beginning of this exchange. so had rafal so keenly scrutinized the manner of her relationship with the little ones, only to himself profess such a radical mindset where his own choices were concerned? . . .the humans as their best and only options. she considers this perspective for only the moment his ready departure allows her, but do their kind number so few as he would claim? already she has met or heard tell of a handful of dragons, or similar long-lived individuals, since the manner of her arrival had first beholden her to secrecy. a secrecy she had since recognized unnecessary, upon witnessing the others.
compared to these, the choice to pair oneself so deeply to one who may well be gone upon next waking. . .
perhaps in any other setting, she would debate and discourage his logic ; and the instinct to do so certainly does rise. but she quashes it, with reminder of the crystal-golden lights and the distant music inviting laughter and dance, with the thick aroma of drifting satins and powders cautioning that this is not the time nor place. ". . . very well." instead, she closes the gap with two strides forward, and captures her twin in his moment of retreat. "we will not discuss this further here."
steady hands straighten the fold of a brother's bent collar, re-center the magenta teardrop and its golden band at the hollow of his throat. in passing she transfers one from her ring of white feathers to his proof of engagements — a settlement, or consolation, or gesture of still and quiet affection perhaps — and sends him on his way. "enjoy the evening, rafal."
 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐌𝐄.
              ❪ ethereal ball 2024 ❫
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nelithic · 7 months ago
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whatever armistice they had reached, discussion would have to wait another day. clamor rings out, burning in sudden torchlight and the bent reflection of feathered bows and makeshift clubs. graverobbers? were these the villagers? nel looks suddenly to the newly-corrupted as if remembering for the first time that it was there, but rafal thinks quicker. perhaps he had even expected an outcome like this to pursue him. and with an order, he sends the reincarnated life to its second death by the same hands.
perhaps it marks a fitting end for a cycle of humans who could not reach accord, the necrotic bridge of two settlements who would war each other until more polluted what little water remained between them than the disease of their corpses. certainly in times past, there would be no shortage of those who would call this justice, or divine retribution. perhaps it is both or neither. like the ouroboros that consumes itself, pride and hatred surfeited the fangs to gouge their own flesh. it would come to an end — just as gradlon had, just as elyos had.
and they, too, would survive this. survive as they always had, born from the womb of death and desolation and finding its tombstones scattered henceforth no matter where they went, no matter what paths of peace they walked.
they too would survive this — another tragic tale too small to be acknowledged, pleading within a paradigm too full of tragedy to be remembered. and they too would forget one day, as dragons do, an ending eroded by the infirmities of time and the weight of more experience than the body was meant to carry. just as gradlon, just as elyos: the hand of the world inscribing memoria upon scales too dark to discern, for what better being than they to call imperfect Witness?
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one hand in the other's, a tether of blue to red amidst the wood, of black to white beneath the stars, they run.
two twins to live another day. two children between whose palms that blood was clasped.
a constellation carved out within the velvet; a scene unremitting and adored.
and within it, two have begun to discern the truth. in this world, god gives no apologies. their dreams have yet to sleep here.
                ₊ theory of resurrection ┃┃┃ end.
 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.
     ╰  ❪ board: fracture / + authority ❫
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nelithic · 5 months ago
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THEN THEY WERE AGREED, rafal's reluctance notwithstanding. she could understand his misgivings ; even as nil, master of minor tricks and enchantments and their employment as he was, he had shied away from the larger trades of magic. at the time, she had thought it parcel of his weakness, the same destined infirmity that had culled him of tooth and wing robbing him too of ancestral power.
whether or not that remained the case, two thousand years gave her insight to his other well-sought strengths: for even one deemed ❛ failure ❜ was still a child of gradlon, who learned to leverage anything within reach. "if we are fortunate," comes tacit agreement on the tail of a twin's assertion, "then that confidence may remain and serve as our advantage. however, she has already been imprisoned not once, but twice. though she is still young, her hubris has proven imperfect. she will be cautious."
"rafal, as faculty of the black eagles, you are the best equipped among us to gather information. pasithee's identity, the motive for keeping her alive, the extent of her power, and where potential weaknesses may lie." the plan of action is the same as besieging any city, or fighting a war where the enemy boasted greater power, greater numbers, greater morale. these were their inheritance from a dying world, and a method they knew well. "your eyes and ears will serve us well, and i know you to be more than capable."
"griss, our task falls to finding any and all means available. against such an opponent, variety in options will be more useful than devotion to a single strategy. if she traps us again, even the most unlikely tool may be leveraged to grant us an opening."
. . . for an imperceptible moment, authority makes room for silence. once accustomed at least to five, of which now three remain.
but the same order remains:
"do not forget that you are each of you indispensable. loss may be recovered, but lives cannot."
 ▀▀ next ,  @twistedisciple ₊
Mortal Immortality [Griss, Nel, & Rafal]
Recovery | Infirmary task
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nelithic · 6 months ago
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UPON HER CHEEKBONES, A RARE DAMASK OF ROUGE, to be chastened by her twin with such impunity. such occasions throughout their joint centuries numbered thankfully few, yet not altogether denied. ' i know how delicate she can be. ' that even across ages knit again and again through war and peace, he had seen within her enough to make pass such judgment, spoke of their rare and vulnerable brevity.
there is no room to deny it. she is thankful when rafal assumes the discussion with little of that same inhibition. humor, even, makes its seldom light known in her eyes at the familiar return of her initial answer in perhaps playful riposte, honesty or no notwithstanding. but then just as quickly, his next reminder siphons such humor out, replacing the beginnings of her smile with a more familiar solemn stillness. the time of ' nil ' and nel is behind them, and he speaks of his former impressions with bold certitude indicative that none of its weight burdens him still. yet the reality of it is still a reminder of the tenderer mantle upon which she had failed him in the centuries-long interest of their shared physical safety.
she does not land on it long ; he does not let her.
"the most adoring of eyes. . . " she parrots slowly, letting that and its understanding filter through her anew. none of it surprises her ; demands were from birth until oft-untimely death placed unremittingly upon the fell children, and so they were known in turn to demand much of the world as in recompensation. she remembers when her thinking had been the same once— that remuneration could only be fair for all they had weathered. unending fires bred a certain madness within their kind ; an intensity, a gluttony that could never be sated. "yes," she reconciles, "i suppose that is only natural."
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"but you have not answered your own question, rafal. shall i repeat it? ' human or dragon, man or woman. older or younger. ' these distinctions are those you named yourself. and i would return the same sentiment as well — that. . . none would be seen as disagreeable. insofar as seen in isolation."
"i will warn, however, that any individual you may be taken with must first pass my appraisal. i will not yield on this. if there is one you have in mind of late, now would be the time for me to hear it."
 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐌𝐄.
              ❪ ethereal ball 2024 ❫
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nelithic · 6 months ago
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THE OUTSTRETCHED HAND DOES NOT GO UNNOTICED. and the tableside ballroom goes silent for it as glass waiting to shatter — for fear, for uncertainty, for anticipation. a conciliatory gesture, though recognized, ever carries shadows in the eyes of the children of gradlon ; rafal is all she has and all her love ; and yet even from a twin, perhaps only from a twin, can she partake of the scent of threat in such love, and thus each in the other entwined as one head and one tail. were he to have reached her cheek then, she would have accepted it, and perhaps even closed her eyes, taking solace in the portent of killing claws gentle upon her face. of blood shed and recycled back unto the heart.
luster returns to anamnesis, sweeping away the dull red of yesterday. she is grateful for the change in subject, and finds herself aimlessly searching the confectionary table for something less sweet she might sample, to remind herself of where she is.
". . . i— fail to see where this sudden curiosity comes from. we have never talked of such things before." for rafal to pry into the matter now, on nothing more than the tail of a misplaced conjecture. . .
is this, simply time for them to become interested in such things? she had thought they'd long passed the age. but bewilderment does not frame refusal ; her tacit reluctance drags its feet, but falls short of reproach. instead, it sounds as though she is simply stalling for time. . . grappling for a means to express herself, and harness language for a topic seldom felt and even more seldomly considered. preferred passions? the thought alone fills her with discomfort, a soft, frenetic ticklishness under the skin akin to an instinct to flee ; it is only in recognition of the ridiculousness of such an impulse that she does not.
fingers land finally on a shortbread dessert that promises a banal, if inoffensive, flavor.
and at long last, she can find no answer for him.
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"is this something you have considered, rafal?" she sighs instead, turning it ( unfairly ) back upon him. "your own. . . . . . ' preferred passions '? i have not been able to give my own much thought. all these years, my attentions were occupied by more pressing matters, your safety and that of lythos foremost."
a burdened pause.
"as for the divine one. i had considered none of those factors in my prior affections." indeed, she had considered very little ; it had simply shown up over time: unprecedented, unfounded, and, at first, well-unwanted. "however, their being a dragon simply made sense." eyes turn anew on her twin, probing yet vulnerable. "if you are to ask me such questions, then it is only fair that i return them. as your elder sister, i am entitled to ask of yours."
 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐌𝐄.
              ❪ ethereal ball 2024 ❫
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nelithic · 8 months ago
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one thousand years wove the gulf between them. though the lifespans of their kind far exceeded that of the large majority of known beings, a millennia was not altogether a paltry sum even so. enough to be humbling. enough to bring rumination again to the fore. enough to think of the once-pristine halls of the somniel where they had slept and fought and meandered, desecrated by decay, supporting itself for one thousand years around the epicenter of a singular point. red, white, and blue upon the marble. she might imagine it — that river of motion, a place of vibrant life for them both, finally emptied out its solitude on the distant shores of extinction.
to that length of solitude, her slumber was but the footnote to a silent and interminable ellipses. nel cannot remember now what she had dreamt then, or if she had dreamt at all. like this, she could not perhaps hope to understand rafal's suffering, but she might imagine it.
then what was there to take rafal at, in the face of all that time, but his word? in its shadow, the mire of her regrets, anxieties, and fears appears selfish and shallow, untested burrs beneath the scales she clung to faster than she would her own twin. it is at last the thought that she had spent millennia demanding him of his trust in the ownership and safeguarding of his life, and found herself so now unwilling to give hers, that pushes a harsh sigh from silent lips. "rather than stolen, it is more accurate to say that it was given to you."
nil, even now, a tender wound carved into the recesses of her chest with the careful remembrance of his name. love, pain, grief, all these things which hallowed her memory. "the place at my side has always rightfully been yours. nil and rafal — you are both to me."
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"which is precisely why i cannot afford to lose you as well." blood garnets sharpen on awaking, fixing up again on her twin's pale mien amidst the shadows and the dead.
then the slivered ice thaws its edge in her voice; she continues more levelly. "you are proud, rafal. as much as i and any of our once siblings. and i know all too well the search for strength to protect another, in any way one might find it. but in protecting nil — protecting you — i realized even more keenly that i was no use to you hurt, or ill, or injured. i had to see to my own health foremost, lest i place us both in grave danger."
"do you understand? resorting to such extremes defeats your intention. should something befall you, you can no longer protect me as you desire."
"and i . . . i will lose that which has given me my way forward, all this time."
 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.
     ╰  ❪ board: fracture / + authority ❫
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nelithic · 7 months ago
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the level return of griss' gaze is wordless confirmation. she had done so neutrally: as she had voiced at the gathering itself, because it was the most sensible course of action given what they knew. that mindset remains the same now; it is with a mild frustration that she regards their current situation as a consequence of the failure of her allies to exercise due caution. many of them had compassionately preached mercy, some perhaps for their own reasons perceiving a reflection of the world's struggles within the chained girl. nel did not begrudge them their kindness — indeed, the world had need of it, lest they bear witness to a second elyos' fate — but it was a kindness overwrought.
rafal's new look to her brings crimson to meet crimson sidelong, features ever unchanging. he may be a brother remade, and griss may not be gregory, but feet fall into old shoes all the same. she finds both pairs of eyes expectantly upon her, as ever.
and as ever, she shoulders them as a matter of course. "no. it would be reckless to kill her now. as you say, it would only be a matter of time before we were found, and maintaining our place at this academy is crucial. we cannot afford to make enemies."
"in that dark space, a voice instructed us to determine her fate. myself and several others spoke in favor of her death, but others were opposed. if that voice spoke true, the fact that she remains alive indicates a majority elected to spare her. any attempt made on her life would therefore likely be met with significant resistance."
". . . however, we cannot ignore the chance that the speaker never intended for her to die, and the discussion merely a device to waste time. but we have no evidence of this."
a sigh through her nose; eyes narrow. "we must assume that it is not a matter of if she will break free, but when, and make our preparations accordingly. against a powerful mage and illusionist, our focus must lie in countermagic and training for detection. this will not only aid us against pasithee, but similar manners of future threat as well."
 ▀▀ next ,  @twistedisciple ₊
Mortal Immortality [Griss, Nel, & Rafal]
Recovery | Infirmary task
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nelithic · 6 months ago
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' FRIENDSHIP ' SEEMED AN EQUALLY IMPRECISE label for the occasion ; impassive lips pinch vaguely in thought as she weighs the same conclusions from that new light. while in theory she was not opposed to calling the self-proclaimed righteous mageling friend, it somehow felt. . . complex. akin to slotting an ill-fitted weapon in its sheath, forcing a confinement of irregular borders. she and poe were acquainted individuals who had spoken and assisted one another on several occasions, and she was one of whose strengths, weaknesses, and disposition she possessed some knowledge of.
that seemed to be all that could be said.
and yet, it was true that for poe, that had been enough to compel her here though she had expressed little personal interest, to expend enough effort to find her suitable attire that, nel must admit, was all at once practical, well-made, and appropriate.
a rather self-conscious silence settles between them— a rare moment of human discomfiture not from rancor, resentment, or disagreement, but stranger matters of the heart of which they were both late and maladroit students. nel opens her mouth to withdraw, redirect them on a matter of different course now that the misunderstanding has been resolved ; but rafal comes to words first. and he instead does anything but. he presses further instead, stretching a clumsy and uncertain foot into the foggy moor : without compass, without destination, opening blindly. "wonder of. . . what about my preferences, exactly." nel's brow pinches further in equal disorientation. it did not strike rafal as reasonable, he said, that she would pursue a human without indication. "if you speak of entangling with humans in such a manner. . ." she finds herself shaking her head before the words are even out, "it is out of the question. they live but minutes in our eyes. you know this." she sleeps, and generations of them are gone ; she would watch their last echoing ripples fade far past her grasp. . . and her memory.
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"and, besides. . . " it cannot even begin to be considered. red gaze half-lids, falling somewhere off to the side.
she has moved on.
she has acknowledged that perhaps it was never more than idealism. and grief, equally, for idealism.
( what then does that mean for her capacity— to love? )
"i do not know if there will ever be another."
 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐌𝐄.
              ❪ ethereal ball 2024 ❫
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nelithic · 9 months ago
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such is the understanding between twins of their origin that rafal does not need to speak before it is clear she had not pleased him. his level and watchful gaze does not shift or waver, nor lose its diamond hardness. when finally he repeats her word as though it were venom, nel barely holds back a sigh.
mindful.
even she could acknowledge it had not been an ideal choice of words, but it appears that he has misunderstood her once more. if only she could make him see . . . he would know how his own suffering caused her the greatest anguish.
she searches for something more adequate to convey this. to explain herself. but velvet and warmth had never come easily to her, and it is while wading through the garden of her natural thorns, looking for the moss and bedding, that he continues with or without her response.
fortunately, even without her intermission, he seems to have comprehended some of her heart. the fire cools; the roiling of thunder abates into the hazy rumbling of an armistice day. she finds reprieve in the softened lines of his eyes, and allows her shoulders, too, to fall. my ambitions are no longer what they were, he claims. with iron steadiness and conviction, head upright and posture proud. the same as he had claimed he would stand above the flock; the same as he had claimed he would take the divine one's life and any others deemed necessary. it is not that she finds no comfort in his declaration, merely that it feels too promising to weigh for belief. ( or more, perhaps, than she felt was deserved. did the pieces not fit together too well? ) she had ever — or perhaps their kind had ever — glimpsed water amidst the sands and thought first of mirage.
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"if what you say is true, then nothing would gladden me more." two fell dragons, true twins in a new world, standing as equals who would prove and preserve one another. it was a fantasy that their former selves could have only dreamt of.
( and, more important to her still — a fulfillment of wishes for the brother who had so long struggled to stand. )
thoughts turn inward, however. to the moment that had been decided on a precipice, the moment that still stood foremost in her memory. rafal, twisted with agony, unbearable to witness — how different from that he was now, composed and certain. in the drifting sea behind her eyes, she watches her own hands gripping the pole of her spear, feels its point pierce her gut, hears, as though through murky water, the embedded stone on her brother's chest shatter. "but i must ask," she prefaces then, carefully, recentering attention on him once more; like a solitary lakebed, her crimson remains cool and still, but within it trembles some ripple of disturbance.
"this is . . . a sudden change." no less sudden than nil's own self had died, a shell splitting open to birth another name. "is this a result of my own actions at that time?"
 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.
     ╰  ❪ board: fracture / + authority ❫
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nelithic · 7 months ago
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continued.
WORDLESS THOUGH THE EXCHANGE HAD BEEN, her distaste was not ; it lingered still on her face, in the downturned corners of her mouth, in the knit at the inner edge of a closed brow, on silent tongue processing the sudden and overwhelming saturation of sweetness for which she had been wholly unprepared. why sweeten coffee — one of the few oases to be found in common human cuisine. were the beans from which they were harvested not meant to be bitter?
she feels the weight of rafal's sidelong eye before he even speaks, and the echo of amusement in his lighter voice serves as both balm and salt to her disappointment. now that he sips it ( savors it, even ), she can smell it still from here ; how had she missed that thick cream and sweetening before in her haste? or is it only the lingering residue in her mouth she can't dispel. " . . . you have missed your chance," she answers dismally, with only a mote more than she would allow most others to see. "i will not make the same mistake twice." and at a gathering such as this, she would be even more hard-pressed than usual to find the deeply-flavored spices and complexities she would prefer ; humans often preferred their confectionaries at social functions. rafal, she is certain, is spoiled for choice.
but then, where she had anticipated a comfortable spell of quiet in which to nurse her small and momentary pities, finds it broken the next moment by a change in subject — rafal's tone deviates from the buried laughter at her expense, moves to something coy and slow that she has seldom heard. but she knows the colors of insinuation nevertheless.
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to her knowledge, there had been nothing strange about her company. was it only that her twin had never met poe? indeed, she had never thought it necessary to introduce them. "i do not understand your meaning. if you intend to imply some manner of favoritism, you would need to speak more clearly, rafal." favoritism ; the word once spoken strikes a possibility, and she regards him more closely — with a hint of admonishment almost gentle to only a brother's eye made discerning by centuries of reliance. "all your centuries known to me, and you fear now for my loyalties? you know well none will surpass you."
 ▀▀   @rafent ₊
 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐌𝐄.
              ❪ ethereal ball 2024 ❫
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nelithic · 7 months ago
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BLUSTER AND SPLEEN REFUTE HER REASSURANCES, a stark contrast from the shy and soft acceptances the face of ' nil ' had permitted her. had she misspoken, and instead offended him? the manner of his expression suggests both yes and no, vacillating before it cleanses into a look more forthright and lifts to meet hers again. and nel recognizes the furrow of that pale brow, and the accompanying wideness of those eyes so like and unlike hers — she prepares for grousing, as he had done even then ; and, internally, smiles. it is good to see that, even acting, there had been some of this twin in the cocoon of the other from the start.
poe. he gives the name with frank acuity, but she is unable to wonder at the manner of their acquaintance before his continuing account lifts both her brows in subtle arch. . . .rafal's infamous tongue, then ; she is still growing used to it herself. ( instinctively, nel looks to her twin's own choice of attire, and the wide window it offered of his chest. she reserves the remark for herself. )
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and not a moment too soon ; matching scarlet snaps back up at his last word — and here does outright expression show itself this evening in marble features made sharp with disbelief. "courting? your suggestion is incorrect." but even as she shakes her head, nel thinks back again on their arrival, on poe's insistence on her attendance, on selecting her garments. is this the same impressions others had been given as well, without her knowledge? "let me explain. several days ago, the subject of this ball arose in our conversation, and i expressed no inclination to attend. as you know, these festive environments are not my preference. upon hearing this, she was insistent that i do so regardless, and went out of her way to select this. . . costume for me. i acknowledge that certain accents of it align with her own. but that does not mean. . . "
. . . the words can hardly bring themselves to be expressed. instead, black-fringed head shakes again, as though to hopelessly dispel the encroaching reality rafal had presented. "are you certain this is the message it sends?" after all, did he possess such a wealth of experience on such matters that she was not aware of? "there is no possible alternative?"
 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐌𝐄.
              ❪ ethereal ball 2024 ❫
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nelithic · 1 year ago
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who were they? nel and nil. nel and rafal. a sister and brother. two fell dragons who from their nesting grounds flew, fleeing something — what: persecution, redemption, a chance at power for a chance at life — infinitely larger than themselves. who were they? ships adrift at sea, the harbor at which they had been moored sunk beneath the waves. homeless but for one another. together they had drifted to a new harbor, made a new life. this one too had sunk beneath the waves.
who were they?
one dead, by the other's hand killed. hers had buried the blade; his had drawn the blood. when he bled, the red from her veins flowed. i will free you, she had said. with this action, i will free you. how much of it had been true? how much of that answer did she seek?
death was the easy way out. she had not meant to punish him.
divine one, i have always been afraid.
...
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"... rafal."
even now, she did not wish to believe. her eyes are closed. disapproval plays across her face like the shifting alpine shadows that'd descended across the high, rocky moors of merceus once the moon had risen, but this is ultimately a farce.
as had been their peace.
even so, the stench of freshly-turned earth, of pale and new decay, refuses to allow her cowardice. and for this, she is grateful; after all, she had promised that she would not avert her eyes a third time. ( exactly when, it is uncertain — at some indeterminate point of her death and the life given back to her, at some indeterminate point before then, at some indeterminate point she had watched her other half flounder and spit venom and weep. ) crimsons open, as dark and ruddy as the blood the bloodless body beside rafal's pale figure lacks, forced to behold and acknowledge the evidence that the last memories of their former world had not simply been a dream. that he lived still: the twin who had claimed to wish her dead.
buried only hours ago, the corpse still bears the softness of the newly-deceased, a matted, caved-in skull the only indication of their brutal end by covetous neighbors. seeing it, nel knows the indication that oroboros had sunk its self-devouring fangs in deep — these two townships wouldn't hear of cooperation, not from a remote and unfeeling church and not from the two of them. they would tear each other apart until one remained.
then why this — the open grave, the corrupted light, her twin's implicated posture. as something within her runs cold and empty, she nearly finds herself wishing rafal kept better secrets.
with such a regret, she continues: ". . . so this is what you were looking for."
 ▀▀ @rafent ₊
 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.
     ╰  ❪ board: fracture / + authority ❫
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nelithic · 8 months ago
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contemplative eyes studying griss' response flick sidelong at the strong dismissal from her brother's sharper voice ( so much more assured than nil's. ) , then narrow. it is unusual, being refuted so firmly by her twin on a matter of their shared safety and the next appropriate action, but apart of the immediate sense of surprise, there is confidence to be taken as well. rather than leave her less disposed to make her point, she finds herself more at ease to do so with a brother who would so willingly speak his mind.
"do not forget that she is an accomplished sorcerer, and we do not yet know the full extent of her power. she has already trapped us all in illusions requiring considerable effort to untangle. who is to say this vulnerability is not yet another of them?"
they had all sailed to one a year ago; dwelt in one in the time since, and in all that time never so much as suspecting; then walked through yet another, boasting numerous layers. "underestimating one's enemy leads swiftly to death. i have said this many times, rafal."
but — as head turns to once more bring griss back among them — she reconciles one point he spoke true that she had not spent nearly as much time considering. "however, you are correct we may leave at any time. but even so, pasithee's power has been seen to reach multiple lands at once, shrouding them all the same. until we are certain of her limitations, we cannot guarantee safety."
rueful crimson falls for a moment to the dirt-tracked stone floor, weighing again the shadow of a gathered caucus in a dark space, held under the force of a watchful voice whose identity they still did not know. a dismantled and divided selection she had been made to call allies, not unlike those who had once only tenuously walked beneath the divine dragon's banner of war.
"she should have been killed when we had the chance."
 ▀▀ next , @twistedisciple ₊
Mortal Immortality [Griss, Nel, & Rafal]
Recovery | Infirmary task
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