#he's of great virtue but at the cost of great doubt and suffering

[lord-squiggletits]

When Optimus in Chaos Theory said "Hatred may sustain you, but it diminishes me. I am lessened by it." that was so fucking deep of him

[formerlycookierunauprompts]

I did

another thing

-

The Ever-Loyal Monster, Blinding Syrup Cookie

Long ago, in the past when the Beasts were first baked, there were other ‘first Cookies’ outside of the ones that went rogue.

A hatched egg of defiance.

A iridescent butter of creation.

A gleaming oil of innovation.

And then…there was little Sterling Syrup Cookie. He lacked the obviously strong attributes of the others. He did not have great magic or powerful physical might.

What he was, however…was Loyal. He admired the first Heroes and their strength. And he admired the Witches for creating them.

…but when the Beasts went rogue, something in him snapped. And that admiration of the Heroes turned to hatred.

When he heard that the Witches doubted some of their creations after the fall of the Heroes, Sterling Syrup was determined to prove his devotion. He approached the Witches outright, declared his loyalty, and…

What happened next is unknown. But the Witches did not doubt his loyalty anymore.

But they couldn’t have known that the Virtue of Loyalty that Sterling Syrup held, had become Fanaticism.

He was rebaked into a new being - Blinding Syrup Cookie. And his role? One was to hunt down the Beasts, no matter the cost. No matter how far he had to go.

The other was to ensure loyalty and devotion among the Cookies that remained…and punish any dissenters.

While his exact involvement is unknown, he had a hand in the breaking of Gleaming Oil Cookie.

He tracked the Beasts across the world of Earthbread, doing whatever he could to drag them back in chains to the masters they betrayed. Whatever he did during that is also unknown - and the Beasts certainly don’t want to talk about it. Nor should you ask.

Shadow Milk Cookie remembers the burning light.

Mystic Flour Cookie remembers the groans of the suffering.

Eternal Sugar Cookie remembers the chains pulling at her neck.

Burning Spice Cookie remembers the cold gnawing at his dough.

Silent Salt Cookie remembers the screams he couldn’t voice.

In the end, Elder Fairy Cookie sealed them…without Blinding Syrup Cookie’s help. Utterly infuriated, he made a decision.

As it was his duty to forever hunt the Beasts, he would forever wait for their return.

As it was his duty to ensure loyalty and devotion, he founded the Army of the Oven - a titanic faith formed of any and all who served the Witches. Survivors of the Beast’s rampage, who wished to never suffer like that again. Their dedication would be forged to an unbreakable point by Blinding Syrup. He made sure they would never betray the Witches’s law.

And then…he went into dormancy. A slumber that would only break when the Beasts broke free of their seal. And they would break free.

He still needed to punish them, after all.

Eventually, the Army spread out across Earthbread, becoming several separate factions. One of which would eventually become the St. Pastry Order.

And the rest…is history.

-

behold, a terrible person

oh he sounds horrible(in a good way), am I allowed to punt him?/pos

also what the heck did he do to the beasts? I'm rather interested in that, as well as how he had a hand in breaking Gleaming Oil Cookie.

[thedragonagelesbian]

Once upon a time, Cyrus Hawke had taken great comfort in pain. Hurt was a kind of testimony-- on the battlefield, in the bedroom, evidence of his physical existence that he could bear witness to and thus discover, again and again and again, his place in the world, both literal and metaphorical.

But there was no solace in this, the fever drawn between his eyes down to the pit of his stomach, throbbing like an open wound, raw and festering and pulsing out to the blurry edges of his being. The tadpole writhed against his skull, its small wriggling form quaking with anticipation. Perhaps it danced in time with its six kin, a coordinated celebration of their metamorphosis, life exalting in the correctness of its evolution.

Their revelry had run afoul of the tea Cyrus usually brewed to help himself trance, spoiling it in his stomach before he could set his mind at ease. The memory of Lae'zel's dagger pressed to his throat wasn't helping anything either. Nothing would at this point, he supposed, slumped against the floor of the cavern and sweating out his last hours like a sick dog.

I could have stopped this, once.

He didn't know if that was true or not, but he had never missed the crackle of divine magic at his fingertips as much as he did then. Like sunshine after a storm burning away the fog, he had once been filled with such warmth. His very blood had run hot with miracles, and he could open himself up to the bodies of others, soothing their ailments.

What was he now?

A voice he had spent decades trying not to dwell on snaked through the aching delirium: You will never be anything more than my champion.

"That is not true," Cyrus hissed, loud enough to hear himself over the blood pounding in his ears, and when that wasn't enough to banish the doubt gnawing at his rib cage, he reached for the knife instead. Nestled by his side, small as it was, its hilt felt heavier than anything he could manage to lift now, but he took comfort in his white-knuckled grip through the leather of his glove.

Whatever certainty he had left, it was this: he would not wait for Lae'zel to end him in the morning. He would not leave his death in someone else's hands.

...Although if he were to leave it to anyone's, he trusted Lae'zel's the most. He knew singularity of purpose and duty and devotion more intimately than he knew anything else about himself. He also knew what that singularity had cost him. He wondered if Lae'zel would live long enough to realize it too.

He watched her sleeping restlessly at the far edge of the camp before, one by one, he took the rest of them in. The cleric of Shar, so convinced of the virtue of her suffering (which wide-eyed fool did that remind him of?). The vampire spawn whose body had not been his own in two hundred years, who could not remember what he looked like beforehand (should he have mentioned it? that he had also forgotten what he had looked like before magic had scarred his body?). The Hells-touched barbarian who had not known comfort or intimacy in a decade (an all-too familiar story). The wizard who had tried to show him the wonders and beauty of touching the Weave (maybe it hadn't been a ploy; maybe it had been a gesture toward mutual understanding. Toward friendship. What miserable irony to finally have friends again only to lose them now...)

And Wyll...

Wyll...

He had a harder time keeping up the facade in his sleep, tail lashing, tossing and turning and knocking his horns against the ground. As his vision began to swim, Cyrus watched him, wishing desperately to be able to take that pain away. For himself, for all of them, for Wyll especially, a man too good for a world that didn't deserve him as its hero.

I'll find you. The thought came to him slowly, pouring like hot molasses over sluggish and slowing synapses. My soul will travel to Avernus and find yours. I won't let you live out eternity there.

It would've been a good thought to end on... but the darkness that claimed Cyrus lasted only a moment. A heartbeat suspended in nothingness, and then light flooded his vision. Blinding and cold, like steel glinting in sunlight, it cut through the fever. He tried to blink the whiteness from his eyes, but all he saw were strands of color mingling with the brightness. Purple and gold and pink and silver shimmering in the void.

And a voice, distorted and distant but closer and clearer with every word: "I came just in time. You are transforming."

A gauntlet, a shimmer, a memory that was not his imposing itself on his mind, and as Cyrus sat up, he saw her: a tall and imperious woman dressed for battle, severe and familiar down to the frightening blue of her eyes.

"Meredith..."

Perhaps he should have known right away that the figure wasn't her. For all the care and detail in its facade, it didn't smile like her, and it had shifted back to give him room to breathe-- room, indeed, to throw up his hand. A gnarl of withered flesh across his palm stood between them in some meager defense.

The next morning, Cyrus would loathe that that was his first instinct. That he had cowered like some caught prey animal instead of bearing his talons and forcing this thing--memory, ghost, guardian--away from him.

"How...? What are you...?"

"Be at peace, Cyrus." A command uttered with softness and gentleness was still a command. "I saved you before." He reeled again as his mind flashed unbidden to the crash of the nautiloid, to the fall that should have left him little more than a smear of viscera against the beach. But something had caught him. She had caught him. How had she...? "And I'm here to save you again."

"No." His voice--a voice he owed to her--cracked. "I do not want to be saved by you."

[yhwhrulz]

Charles Spurgeon's "Morning & Evening" Devotional for September 24

Morning

“The kingdom of God is within you.”

Matthew 19:1-2

Matthew 19:2

This is a most encouraging fact. If Jesus cures multitudes why should he not save each one of us? Why should we not cry to him for help, and expect to receive it? The healing virtue in Jesus is not diminished: seek it, and it will be freely given.

Luke 17:20-37

Luke 17:21

They looked for an outward reign, as many do still, and so they missed the glory of the inward spiritual kingdom. Outward pomp and show in religion are still the main things with many, but they forget the words before us; “Behold, the kingdom of God is within you.”

Luke 17:21

No doubt many a time the apostles said, “Would God our Lord were here,” especially in those dark days when the Romans compassed the city.

Luke 17:24

There will be no need of inquiries then. His coming will be plain to all. Yet there was need of this caution, for in all ages deceivers have risen up, and have misled many by prophecies concerning the second advent. Vain dreamers of ten go insane upon this matter.

Luke 17:25-31

The most valued properly must be sacrificed to save life. Loitering has cost many a man his soul.

Luke 17:32

She looked, she longed, she lingered, and she died, yet she was Lot’s wife, and was on the way to escape. Alas, how many arc near to salvation and yet perish. This little verse should be often before our eyes.

Luke 17:33

Those who die for Christ’s sake have saved their lives, and those who are cowards and deny their Lord to escape from death have in the highest sense lost life.

Luke 17:34-36

When the Romans came only a few escaped, and so even now death finds many unprepared. Families will not be saved in the bulk. True religion is a personal matter; one by faith will live, and another will perish in unbelief. Who among us will escape from hell when the Lord shall summon us to judgment?

Luke 17:37

The first fulfilment of this prophecy was at the siege of Jerusalem, when the Roman eagles gathered around the dead body of the Jewish state. Then did the Lord come forth to punish impenitent Israel, and then his disciples, being warned, fled in haste from the condemned city. Never, however, let vs forget that his great coming is yet future, and that zee ought to be hourly prepared for it.

Evening

“Suffer the little children to come unto me.”

Mark 5:13-16

Mark 5:13

No doubt their mothers rightly judged that the Saviour’s blessing would in the best sense enrich their children, and conduce to their future happiness, and so they led their boys and girls to him. The disciples thought that he would be annoyed with the little ones, but they did not know what a kind heart he had. No fathers or mothers should think their children too little to be converted. While they are boys and girls, Jesus can bless them.

Mark 5:14

We do not often find him much displeased, and therefore we may learn that to discmirage a child from coming to Jesus is beyond all other things displeasing to him.

Mark 5:15

We must possess the simplicity, teachableness, and trustfulness of children, or else grace is not in us. Like them also we must be free from avarice and ambition.

Isaiah 40:10 , Isaiah 40:11

The tenderness of Jesus to the little ones proved him to be the Messiah, for we read

Psalms 128

Now that we have before us this choice act of Jesus’ love in receiving children, let us pray that all in this house may be blessed of him, and that the children may be saved while yet young. Have we not the promise of it? Is not the promise to us and to our children? For our encouragement let us read and pray over

Full of love was Jesus found

To the little ones around;

And his tender, loving eye

Would not pass an infant by.

When the young to him were led,

Gracious gentle words he said;

While he took them up and smiled

Kindly on each little child.

“Let the young ones come to me,

And forbid them not,” said he;

“Many such, in heaven above,

Dwell with God and share his love.”

Copyright Statement This resource was produced before 1923 and therefore is considered in the "Public Domain".

[followerexwrittenstuff]

The Ever-Loyal Monster, Blinding Syrup Cookie

Long ago, in the past when the Beasts were first baked, there were other ‘first Cookies’ outside of the ones that went rogue.

A hatched egg of defiance.

A iridescent butter of creation.

A gleaming oil of innovation.

And then…there was little Sterling Syrup Cookie. He lacked the obviously strong attributes of the others. He did not have great magic or powerful physical might.

What he was, however…was Loyal. He admired the first Heroes and their strength. And he admired the Witches for creating them.

…but when the Beasts went rogue, something in him snapped. And that admiration of the Heroes turned to hatred.

When he heard that the Witches doubted some of their creations after the fall of the Heroes, Sterling Syrup was determined to prove his devotion. He approached the Witches outright, declared his loyalty, and…

What happened next is unknown. But the Witches did not doubt his loyalty anymore.

But they couldn’t have known that the Virtue of Loyalty that Sterling Syrup held, had become Fanaticism.

He was rebaked into a new being - Blinding Syrup Cookie. And his role? One was to hunt down the Beasts, no matter the cost. No matter how far he had to go.

The other was to ensure loyalty and devotion among the Cookies that remained…and punish any dissenters.

While his exact involvement is unknown, he had a hand in the breaking of Gleaming Oil Cookie.

He tracked the Beasts across the world of Earthbread, doing whatever he could to drag them back in chains to the masters they betrayed. Whatever he did during that is also unknown - and the Beasts certainly don’t want to talk about it. Nor should you ask.

Shadow Milk Cookie remembers the burning light.

Mystic Flour Cookie remembers the groans of the suffering.

Eternal Sugar Cookie remembers the chains pulling at her neck.

Burning Spice Cookie remembers the cold gnawing at his dough.

Silent Salt Cookie remembers the screams he couldn’t voice.

In the end, Elder Fairy Cookie sealed them…without Blinding Syrup Cookie’s help. Utterly infuriated, he made a decision.

As it was his duty to forever hunt the Beasts, he would forever wait for their return.

As it was his duty to ensure loyalty and devotion, he founded the Army of the Oven - a titanic faith formed of any and all who served the Witches. Survivors of the Beast’s rampage, who wished to never suffer like that again. Their dedication would be forged to an unbreakable point by Blinding Syrup. He made sure they would never betray the Witches’s law.

And then…he went into dormancy. A slumber that would only break when the Beasts broke free of their seal. And they would break free.

He still needed to punish them, after all.

Eventually, the Army spread out across Earthbread, becoming several separate factions. One of which would eventually become the St. Pastry Order.

And the rest…is history.

Personality: Little is known about Sterling Syrup Cookie prior to his corruption. He seems to have done his level best to cover up any information - what is known is that he used to admire the Beasts. Moreover, he was frustrated at his own weakness compared to the rest of the Heroes- he knew how to make things, but they were…average. No enchantments, no great might - just things. He was dedicated, yes, but he constantly felt like he wasn’t doing enough. Never enough. He had to be more, all for the Witches. In that…a flicker of what he would become could be seen.

…afterward, he changed. He seemed to gain a ‘split side’ of sorts. To those he viewed as allies and loyalists to the Witches, he was kind and almost fatherly - the guardian that would push back the dark and give the dedication to fight back to those who chose to stand with him.

To those he saw as enemies? He was a monster. All affability would fall away to reveal cold hatred, and even that would fall away to reveal a frothing rage if his enemy ‘survived too long’ in his opinion. When he fights, he fights to traumatize. And I’ll let you guess which side is his true personality.

[docholligay]

Doc, what did you think of "Midnight Mass", however much you watched of it? And do you plan to watch "The midnight club"?

I never finished it! I got like...three episodes in? It was bad, and also not good.

I don't have a HUGE problem with deeply derivative works, and that's Flanagan's modus operandi even at his ABSOLUTE best: "I'm going to take this idea from another piece of media and perfect it" GIRL ME TOO, I AM THERE.

But Midnight Mass is a Stephen King vampire book from the 80s. Flanagan and I are both huge King fangirls, that's not my issue. It's that I think, on some level, Flanagan doesn't understand what makes a King novel (when it works) work. Midnight Mass is a BAD Stephen King novel. Admittedly, I never finished it so it might pull out of the spin, but somehow I doubt that.

So Flanagan is taking this Kingian idea, and looking to refine it, but it just feels like such an amateur effort. Someone told me (IT might have been @madegeeky?) that this was Flanagan's early draft that he wrote like ten years ago and couldn't get anyone to buy, and THAT I believe. Hill House is fucking great. It's a masterwork. One of the best horror stories I've seen realized.

Midnight Mass is almost childish in its efforts to engage with ideas of sin and virtue, identity, and the cost of survival. I cannot believe (while absolutely believing) that he grabbed that ten year old script and was like "NO NOTES." Can you imagine? There are fanfic pieces, that were very well received at the time, that I'm going back through right now, because I'm like, "Wow this could be better". I can't imagine someone handing me something I wrote ten years ago, and going, "No I've learned nothing about writing since then"

Honestly, Flanagan may never write another good piece again. That's also fine! We need to bring back the idea that its okay to write To Kill a Mockingbird and go. I liked what Bly Manor was in moments, but if we're all being honest, Bly Manor was a fucking mess. (Also he didn't write Bly Manor. He wrote the framing device and left. Which ALSO could have been fine (full disclosure: I like the idea of the framing device but not the execution) if he had given the whole project to ONE writer/showrunner). I've never seen anything else from Flanagan that grapples with the HORROR OF BEING HUMAN the way Hill House does.

So yeah, I would go so far as to say Midnight Mass fucking SUCKED, and that's not me wanting Hill House, again, as I was very careful not to bring that baggage to it and also, if anything suffered for that on the first watch it was Bly Manor, which went from "What a mess" (derogatory) to "what a fucking mess" (affectionate)

[human-antithesis]

I

«Everything, except GOD, has in itself some measure of privation, thus all individuals may be graded according to the degree to which they are infected with mere potentiality.» Was there not an inconceivable loss of knowledge at Bethlehem? Christ's abasement, His subjecting Himself to the laws of Human birth and growth and to the lowliness of fallen human nature... Did the Son remain the transcendent Logos, is there not a radical and fatal dicontinuity between the consciousness of the transcendent Logos and the secular Jesus? Obedience to the point of death, falling down through increasing Pressure into the deathlike region of ooze and slime and decay. These are the fruits and symptoms of the abasement of the World, the assumption of humanity and the simultaneous occultation of Divinity. « And He is before all things, and in Him all things consist. » Triune GOD, morphed into a Being of apparent theanthropic nature deprived of the Light of Splendour. Dost thou still stand in undiminished Majesty after the exinanition of divine attributes the face of profound fire gone astray, exhaling austerities in concealed, divine radiance? Kenosis, O theory of great peril! Blinded, sanguineous eyes and with a trembling hand, a frail androgynous being holds the perilous doctrinal balance, robed in a maculated garment spattered with the sordid blood of the Flagellation, of the lacerations and fierce wounds carved by royal attributes, of the crimson spurts dripping without end, as was celebrated the High Mass of the Comforter. Kenosis, O theory of great peril! Rob GOD of any attribute and fill the shattering universe with the pestilent scent of putrefaction and the glorious cloud of death, for steadfast, at any cost, He must be. Solely the incarnate Word proclaimed by all the prophets and apostles would have, in dying, an infinite value, sufficient to atone, by His astonishing work, for the Sins of the world. Res Rapta... Res Rapienda... hast thou succumbed to the original malady? « For being empty himself, He giveth empty answers to empty enquirers; for whatever enquiry may be made of Him, he answered accordingly to the emptiness of the man » In Visceribus... A willing expiatory Victim, calling constant shame and ignominy upon itself; was thine irretrievable substance still intact in this Sinai of global Penitence, dost thou remember thine past Theophanies, the burning bush and the Angel of the LORD? « In the next place, it never approached an assembly of righteous men; but avoideth them, and cleaveth to the doubtful-minded and empty and prophesieth to them in corners, and deceiveth them, speaking all things in emptiness to gratify their desires... » Art thou working on collective deliverance? Observe Merkabah, the chariot of the glory of GOD, adrift and exiled, the Pilgrim of Light, grandiose and weeping. Thine aura, compared, is but pale and frail, alike to the one of an ailing child... Vacillating faith, thine salvific virtue shall fail to make nil a cataclysm of Judgement. The suffering of the Just shall be aggravated in grotesque proportions, pillaged, ravaged, overthrown. The realms of warmth and reassurance, of a maternal womb, shall disappear gradually under the crumbling yoke of Sin and Time... The Advent of Plerosis is the destiny of Man and shall shatter up to the Heavens, a savage aperture to the High Mass of the Comforter: «Therefore, my beloved, as you have always obeyed, not only in my presence, but so much more now in my absence, work out your own salvation with fear and trembling...»

[sullustangin]

Okay, strange question for Theron. I hat does he believe in. Beyond duty and doing things for the greater good.

That’s a good question! It’s going to get long, so some of this is beyond a cut. 

Theron was raised as a Jedi until adolescence - his belief system is rooted in the existence of the Force.  It exists in all living things, and some people can access and use it, while others cannot. The Jedi are the good guys.  He was also raised as a citizen of the Republic.  He believes in the Galactic Constitution, which bars slavery and grants all sentients certain rights.  The Republic is a representative government with elections and enfranchised people choosing their leaders. 

Duty and the Greater Good

“Duty” and "The Greater Good” concept have to be defined with Theron, because he is not a lawful character.  He’s a neutral, leaning chaotic character in D&D terms.  Lawful characters go by whatever society approves of; chaotic characters have their own internal compass.  Neutral considers both.  A great example of this is when Director Trant of SIS and Jace Malcom the Supreme Commander of Pub forces tell him to get the job done and basically ignore the fact that two planets full of people are going to be sacrificed to do it.  Lawful characters do as the authority says.....and Theron decides to go rogue and disobey with a Jedi in order to at least save the second planet. His “greater good” is a lower death count, rather than guaranteed Republic victory. I would argue that Theron interprets his duty as belonging to a larger galaxy rather than exclusively the Republic and its political/military objectives; he is pro-Republic, no doubt about it, but there are limits. He’s also pro-Jedi, but there are limits -- some of them can be real asses.   I discuss his alignment further here.

Going into Forged Alliances in SWTOR, we have a man who works for the Republic and endorses the ideals of the Galactic Constitution.  He knows the Republic is not perfect.  He does believe the Jedi are “right,” but he does have some issues with their attitudes toward non-Force users.  They are not perfect. We get some very vehement statements in Annihilation about Theron’s experience with the Jedi after he was found not to be Force sensitive:  the arrogance of the Jedi, how they looked down on non-Force users. He even applied this metric to Satele in their first real conversation with each other.  I discuss this more here.  This doesn’t make him anti-Jedi, but he doesn’t view them with the same rose-colored glasses he did as a youngling. Individuals aside, he follows the Light Side of the Force.  

The Dark Side decisions that a Pub can make to please Theron in Forged Alliances/Shadow of Revan involve deceiving the Empire -- first, by destroying the Revanite cyborgs on Rakata Prime; second, by setting up perimeters around the Yavin base that track Imp movements just a little bit closer.  The blowing up of cyborgs rather than fighting them is to prevent Lana and the Empire from scavenging them later.  It’s not about killing them -- they as individuals are already dead.  You have to kill them to get to the next room anyway.  It’s just a matter of whether you give the Republic an edge by not permitting the Empire the opportunity.  It’s a chess match.  On Yavin, it’s about the Republic having more information than the Empire here as well.  These aren’t traps or weapons that would hurt Imps -- it’s just about having more information.  That is his duty to the Republic as an SIS agent while still supporting a cross-factional alliance to defeat a shared “Greater Bad.”  So while dishonest and Dark Side and ‘anti-Jedi’, Theron still does things in support of a government that has the Galactic Constitution while doing no direct physical harm to the Sith Empire’s operatives (a rather Light Side-y solution).

What else does Theron believe in, besides all that?

Theron believes – most of all and with the most optimism --  in the future. We saw that at the end of Lost Suns.  We see that when he chooses to save civilians on a planet he’s never met.  We even see it in his Dark Side decisions in-game; he anticipates that the war will resume against the Empire, and he wants the Republic (and its Constitution) to have the best odds winning.  I believe that Theron would rather have a rough life himself and save others in the future from the same work and suffering he’s gone through.  Does he do it like a Jedi? Nope.  He isn’t honest or honorable all the time, but he draws the line of sacrificing innocents or excessive for a cause.  Does he do it like a traditional agent of the Republic, taking orders without question?  Good Lord, no.  Trant complains about that all the time in Lost Suns and Annihilation.  Theron is Trant’s best agent, but half the time, Trant wants to throw him out a window or down a trash compactor because he doesn’t do things by the book. 

I discuss in that alignment post how beat up Theron gets because he does things that are “right” in his mind, but not protocol. Theron fights for a brighter future.  Based upon what he’s willing to do personally to ensure that happens, his life comes second to those yet to be born and a better galaxy for them.  Call it Jedi virtue, call it a zealous belief in the Galactic Constitution -- Theron does it (and he meets his end that way in the Nathema Conspiracy, if the player chooses that path).  This is also partially why he doesn’t have an SIS partner. Theron might be assigned to another agent, but he wants to do all the work himself, his own way.  Trant has learned it is pointless to assign Theron a partner because the partner is left out and doesn’t even know when Theron gallivants off.  His risk, his way.  

So to be very specific, Theron believes in the future for others, not necessarily himself.  Theron has a certain lack of selfishness paired with stubbornness that makes him put himself in danger because he believes there is some greater cause; he, the individual, doesn’t matter as much.  We see this in other SIS agents -- they’d die in the line of duty without much of a second thought. I read about Lana’s early experience in the Talay initiative, and the SIS agents she encountered were particularly devout.  

For Theron, that duty isn’t just to Republic or SIS -- it’s for the better future of the galaxy as well.  We can also use this as part of an argument that suggests why Theron isn’t shown romantically involved with anyone unless he gets with the player.  Theron thinks it would be nice if he survived to see this great future he wants for the galaxy and the Republic, but he understands he may not live to see it. That’s not fatalism or pessimism however.  He knows what Jedi did during the Fall of Coruscant.  He was always told by Ngani Zho that he was so loved by his mother that she had to give him up, so she wouldn’t have divided loyalties when it came to the good of the Republic.  His personal happiness doesn’t rank very high here; it is virtuous and right for individuals to make choices that cost themselves something rather than others. Theron doesn’t like to be selfish.

During KotFE Theron leaves the Republic after they’ve accepted the political fiction that Saresh is out of office.  Everyone knows she’s pulling the strings and promoting constant warfare against the Sith Empire, while bending the knee to Zakuul the entire time.  They are oppressed, but she gets to have her little wars.  Theron joins the Alliance because it is resisting an oppressive power that the Saresh doesn’t seem interested in throwing off and that the Empire can’t seem to throw off.  In KotFE, you have Theron as a companion.  He does NOT accept Republic memorabilia in order to raise influence -- I don’t think that’s an oversight, since Lana takes Imp memorabilia with enthusiasm.  Theron believes in the Galactic Constitution and all of its principles – but the Republic is failing to do that right now by tolerating Zakuul and their systems of slavery. If you recruit Bowdaar, you do so by Fight Club or “Eternal Championship” or whatever, and it runs off slaves and people owned by others.  This was what Theron worked against during his career in SIS prior to the whole Korriban thing….and now the Republic tolerates Zakuul’s use of it, as long as Saresh has her little wars with the Empire.

By KotFE, Theron no longer believes in his duty to the Republic, but in the Galactic Constitution. Now that the Jedi are gone, he doesn’t believe in them as much as the broader, greater good that the Republic never fully reached for due to its conflict with the Sith Empire.

This also brings us to the idea that Theron believes in the player.  When all the things he valued in the Republic and SIS went to dust, he went to the Alliance, knowing that a key element was the rescue of the player from carbonite.  Somehow, he thought this person – this key figure that he had worked with previously – would be able to head an Alliance that would save the galaxy one last time from the Sith Emperor.  

With KotET, the player can decide whether they are a peacekeeper Alliance or a new Empire. Theron supports the player and doesn’t make any move to leave or go back to the Republic, regardless of the decision (a flaw in writing, in my personal opinion, but it is what it is).  This is the game’s mechanic, but we may also interpret this as Theron’s belief in truth:  we are what we say we are.  A benevolent empire may not have elections, but it has a greater good in mind.   The Republic claims to support all of these ideals in its constitution…but it doesn’t under Saresh.  Even with a more brutal Eternal Empire, there is truth in advertising.  We are doing this, that’s the way it is.  We’re not hiding behind some Constitution that’s pushed to the wayside in favor of continued war with the Sith Empire. I know this is spinning the wheels hard to try to make it work, but Theron has to have rationale for staying, and it’s not provided in game. In Onslaught, we see a return of Theron’s temper; players who permitted high casualties on Corellia had Theron stomp out on them in anger.  That is consistent with what we’ve seen previously, but the writing had made him somewhat of a sycophant to the player character for awhile; it was a good surprise for character development, bad if you were romancing Theron since you don’t get a smooch off him for that ending.  

Now, if you go all Light Side for Theron, then it’s more easily explicable as to why he stays with the player – the Alliance does what the Republic will not, and he rather be in a place that does what the Republic should be doing, rather than be in a Republic that’s all talk and no action. He’s happy to return home to the Republic, if you make that choice in Onslaught.  He’s also accepting of remaining independent.  He only expresses concern with an Imperial alliance because he doesn’t want his home ground to dust....and all the people in it.  All those little individual futures that we as Alliance commander can control -- and if we’re working to make them better, that coincides with Theron’s own beliefs.

Does Theron Shan believe in love?

The virtue of love, in the sense that one cares for the good of others and the galaxy, is approved of by Jedi.  The idea of having someone, of bonding to someone and wanting to maintain that relationship – and the associated fear of losing that relationship – can lead to the Dark Side.  Now, Theron may not buy into that as much as he did when he was a kid, but it might stick in the back of his mind, since unless the player romances him, he remains single.   He’s also devoted to his ideals and his work, his duties. He’s a self-admitted workaholic -- that sort of kicks romance and personal love down the ladder of priorities. 

On the other hand, Theron hasn’t been treated well by ‘love.’ Ngani Zho loved him… and left him without telling him the truth.  Zho also told Theron all the time that his mother Satele loved him so much that she had to give him up….and we have yet to see her ever admit that to him, face-to-face. We can argue that the latest patch, Echoes of Oblivion, points toward that happening, but even then, she only indicates that to player, not to Theron himself.  We saw Jace Malcom’s rejected paternal overtures in Annihilation and then alienation from Theron during Iokath.  Player choices decide whether that relationship is recoverable or not.

In an unromanced game, Theron is alone, but not necessarily lonely.  We can view this as sort of a holdover from his Jedi youth and as his adult life as a spy – love is a good thing in the galaxy but attachment is not, given the risks he takes.  There is no suggestion that he’s romantically involved with another NPC, unlike other games or even the Lana/Koth thing -- which is ultimately left up to player interpretation as to what exactly that was. 

This next bit is more subjective, because it’s how I’ve interpreted the Theron romance to this point on neutral/Light-leaning characters, specifically a smuggler.  I think prior to the playable character, Theron believes in love, but once again, not for him personally.  If the player romances him, it’s a whole different bantha wrangle.

Love is difficult. Being mutually attached is difficult for Theron, because most normal people want a certain back-and-forth, a certain amount of information sharing before they really commit.  Theron can’t give as much as they can.  Hook-ups are physically satisfying, but emotionally lacking.  

I know some authors have him as a someone who slept around a lot, while others have him as a serial monogamist.  Many just don’t discuss the idea of him being with anyone else besides their playable character.  I’ve written him as someone who can get hook-ups, can do a relationship or two seriously, but also has long spats of celibacy mixed in because he’s busy working. The greater good isn’t going to happen by itself, so Theron works at the cost of his personal relationships.  Because of being a spy and the issue of his parentage, he can’t disclose his work routine or why he’s come back with a new scar – it’s easier to let the relationship fall to the wayside than explain. Where are his parents? Who are his parents?  Easier to let the relationship go than explain.  

Theron is a consummate professional.  Even in the era of KotFE/KotET, Miot and Koth refer to him as ‘stiff’ or ‘stuffy’ and not knowing when to “not work.”  His duties come before his personal desires.  This is why we have to get through all of Rishi before we even get to kiss Theron, plus another few weeks/months on Yavin before they playable character and Theron hook up.  However, if we take a look at the player’s path from Korriban or Manaan (Pub and Imp side encounters with Theron), it’s a courtship over the course of a half-year or more.  There are a lot of headcanon explanations for this, ranging from playable character inexperience, demisexuality, “behind the scenes” action that emphatically states that they were hooking up long before we saw them, and so on.  

I took what I saw on screen to be a signal of Theron’s professionalism -- no time for lovin’ until the job is done -- but also his attachment issues. I’ll do another post on this later, but I’m writing him with the label “fearful avoidant attachment” in mind.  Basically, Theron wants to be attached to someone, desperately, but he is terrified of it.  I don’t blame Satele for this one – this is all about Theron not only being ditched by Ngani Zho, but also then being dismissed from the Jedi Order because he wasn’t even Force sensitive to begin with.  Suddenly, the father he knew and the way of life he thought he was going to follow til the day he died – gone.  Now he has to integrate with ‘normal people life’ where you’re supposed to do the personal life attachment stuff that Jedi frowned upon.  In my fan fic, Theron confesses that SIS and his duty to the Republic – more accurately, to the future – take the place of the Jedi order. He attaches himself to that more readily than individuals.  

The playable character changes Theron; he says that in his “I’m back at SIS” letter.  He’s more open to teamwork and reaching out to Satele.  Again, fans have run with this, including having Theron in a relationship with the player until the Eternal Fleet incident, having them just hook-up and leave it at that (particularly if Imperial), or something in between.  Ziost marks a time where Theron is both relieved and embarrassed the player is there to catch him when he falls.  The last we see of Theron in-game Pubside prior to Popsicle Time, he says he won’t hesitate to reach out (unlike what he did this time).  

Then we get the “For When You Wake Up” letter.  It reveals that Theron is in love, whether or not he wants to openly acknowledge it yet. He doesn’t send a letter to an unromanced player stating that the fact they’re still alive is “the thing that keeps [him] going.”  And he’s also worried, nervous, or even scared that the feelings are not mutual -- “I don’t want to presume.”  

The Theron romance starts in KotFE the night of his arrival. The kiss can be a tentative “let’s try this,” and then dating starts.  I took it as “let’s go back to my place” and a full-blown committed relationship starts between Theron and my smuggler.  There are other interpretation in between.  Any way a person shakes it,  Theron had been holding on to his Yavin hook-up for five years in his heart.  Based upon letters you get throughout these two expansion pacs, Theron still has workaholic tendencies.  He still struggles with the writing of words and expressing love publicly – but he is attached, and painfully so, as we see in Chapter 12, when the player goes on an impromptu camping trip with Marr and Satele.  In my interpretation of all of that, love is still difficult – but not because of the reasons Theron had prior to Eternal Fleet, when he was fully committed to SIS and the Republic.  It’s because in order to save the galaxy from the Sith Emperor, the player may have to be sacrificed for the greater good.  Theron can’t step into their shoes on this one; he can’t take their place.  

After the main KotET chapters, we see the Traitor arc and all of its flaws – but also the consistency of Theron’s character, if we remember how he believes in a better future, even if he doesn’t get to live to see it.  That does include potentially sacrificing his romantic relationship with the player and possibly his life as well.  If the player chooses to kick Theron out of the Alliance, the question of where he goes next is valid – he won’t go back to the Republic, and he’s not an Imperial. Where is Theron Shan, in those player universes?

If Theron (and his romance) survives to Echoes of Oblivion, we see a letter that is downright gleefully sweet.  His mother isn’t dead, and it’s because of you that he has a chance to try to make something of that relationship…again.  I’ve expressed my skepticism about this, since this is the exact set-up we had prior to Eternal Fleet, and then Satele ghosted Theron.  We’ll see; I may be a bit of a cynic or an angstmonger.  The point is, the way the romance is written to this point, Theron is happily in love with his partner/spouse. Love is for him, after all. 

Even without the romance, a living Theron in the Alliance (or whatever it is now) in Echoes of Oblivion is one that has attachments to friends and potentially family again.  There is a future -- and he’s in it.  That may have been more than what Theron was anticipating when we first met him at 23, nearly 17(!) years ago. 

[mybeautifulchristianjourney]

Moses: An Example

by J.C. Ryle

"By faith Moses, when he became of age, refused to be called the son of Pharaoh's daughter, choosing rather to suffer affliction with the people of God than to enjoy the passing pleasures of sin, esteeming the reproach of Christ greater riches than the treasures in Egypt; for he looked to the reward." (Hebrews 11:24-26)

The eleventh chapter of the Epistle to the Hebrews is a great chapter; it deserves to be printed in golden letters. I can well believe it must have been most cheering and encouraging to a converted Jew. I suppose no member of the early Church found so much difficulty in a profession of Christianity as the Hebrews did. The way was narrow to all, but preeminently so to them. The cross was heavy to all, but surely they had to carry double weight. And this chapter would refresh them like a cordial--it would be as "wine to those that are of heavy hearts."

The three verses I am going to explain are far from being the least interesting in the chapter. Indeed, I think few, if any, have so strong a claim on our attention. It seems to me that the work of faith described in the story of Moses comes home more especially to our own case. The men of God who are named in the former part of the chapter are all examples to us beyond question. But we cannot literally do what most of them did, however much we may drink into their spirit. We are not called upon to offer a literal sacrifice like Abel, or to build a literal ark like Noah, or to leave our country literally and dwell in tents and offer up our Isaac like Abraham. But the faith of Moses comes nearer to us. It seems to operate in a way more familiar to our own experience. It made him take up a line of conduct such as we must sometimes take up ourselves in the present day, each in our own walk of life, if we would be consistent Christians. First, Moses gave up rank and greatness. "He refused to be called the son of Pharaoh's daughter." We all know his history. The daughter of Pharaoh had preserved his life when he was an infant; she had adopted him and educated him as her own son. Moses might have been, if he had pleased, a very great man. If he had been content with the position in which he found himself, he might easily have been among the first (if not the very first) in all the land of Egypt.

Let us think, for a moment, how great this temptation was. Here was a man of like passions with ourselves. He might have had as much greatness as earth can well give. Rank, power, place, honor, titles, dignities--all were before him and within his grasp. These are the prizes which there is an incessant race in the world around us to obtain. To be somebody, to be looked up to, to raise themselves in the scale of society, to get a handle to their names--these are the very things for which many sacrifice time, thought, health, and life itself. But Moses would not have them as a gift. He turned his back upon them, refused them, gave them up! Moses refused pleasure. Pleasure of every kind, no doubt, was at his feet if he had liked to take it up--sensual, intellectual, social pleasure--whatever could strike his fancy. Egypt was a land of artists, a residence of learned men, a resort of every one who had skill or science of any description. There was nothing which could feed the "lust of the flesh, the lust of the eye, or the pride of life," which one in the place of Moses might not easily have commanded and possessed as his own.

Pleasure, be it remembered, is the one thing for which millions live. Pleasure and enjoyment in the holidays is the grand object to which a schoolboy looks forward. Pleasure and satisfaction in making himself independent is the mark on which the young man in business fixes his eye. Pleasure and ease in retiring from business with a fortune is the aim which the merchant sets before him. Pleasure and bodily comfort at his own home is the sum of the poor man's wishes. Pleasure is the shadow which all alike are hunting--high and low, rich and poor, old and young,--each, perhaps, despising his neighbor for seeking it, each in his own way seeking it for himself, each secretly wondering that he does not find it, each firmly persuaded that somewhere it is to be found. This was the cup that Moses had before his lips. He might have drunk as deeply as he liked of earthly pleasure, but he would not have it. He turned his back upon it. Moses refused riches. "The treasures in Egypt" is an expression that seems to tell of boundless wealth which Moses might have enjoyed had be been content to remain with Pharaoh's daughter. We may well suppose these "treasures" would have been a mighty fortune. The pyramids, obelisks, temples, and statues are still standing there as witnesses.

Let us consider the power of money, the immense influence that "the love of money" obtains over men's minds. Let us look around and observe how men covet it, what amazing pains and trouble they will go through to obtain it. Tell them of an island many thousand miles away where something may be found that may be profitable, and at once a fleet of ships will be sent to get it. Show them a way to make one percent more on their money, and they will reckon you among the wisest of men. To possess money seems to hide defects, to cover faults, to clothe a man with virtues. But here is a man who might have been rich and would not. He would not have Egyptian treasures.

Add to all this that Moses did it deliberately. He did not refuse these things in a hasty fit of youthful excitement--he was forty years old, in the prime of life. He did not refuse them because he was obliged to. He was not like the dying man who tells us "he craves nothing more in this world;" and why?--because he is dying and cannot keep it. He was not like the pauper who makes a merit of necessity and says, "he does not want riches;" and why?--because he cannot get them. He was not like the old man who boasts that "he has laid aside worldly pleasures;" and why?--because he is worn out and cannot enjoy them. No! Moses refused what he might have enjoyed. Rank, pleasure, and riches did not leave him, but he left them. Others have refused much, but none, I think, so much as Moses. In the way of self-sacrifice and self-denial, he excels them all.

Now, I wish to consider what Moses chose. For one thing, he chose suffering and affliction. He left the ease and comfort of Pharaoh's court and openly took part with the children of Israel. They were an enslaved and persecuted people, an object of distrust, suspicion, and hatred. To the eye of sense, there seemed no chance of their deliverance from Egyptian bondage without a long and doubtful struggle. If ever man seemed to be choosing pain, trials, poverty, need, distress, anxiety--perhaps even death--with his eyes open, Moses was that man.

We draw back by a kind of instinct from suffering and avoid it if we can. We spend our days in fear and anxiety when we think affliction is coming near us and use every means to escape it. And when it does come, we often fret and murmur under the burden of it. And if we can only bear it patiently, we count it a great thing! Moses saw the cup of suffering that was before him if he left Pharaoh's court and chose it, preferred it, and took it up.

But more than this, Moses chose the company of a despised people. He left the society of the great and wise among whom he had been brought up, and joined himself to the children of Israel--slaves, serfs, pariahs, bondservants, laborers in the brick kiln who were oppressed, destitute, afflicted, and tormented. Moses chose reproach and scorn. Men would tell him he was mad, foolish, weak, silly, out of his mind. He would lose his influence. He would forfeit the favor and good opinion of all among whom he had lived. There are few things more powerful than ridicule and scorn. It can do far more than open enmity and persecution. Many a man who would march up to a cannon's mouth, lead a forlorn hope, or storm a breach, has found it impossible to face the mockery of a few companions--to be laughed at, made a joke of, sneered at!

Finally, let me speak of the principle which moved Moses and made him do as he did. We have the answer in the text: "Faith." He did it all because he believed. God set before his mind's eye his own will and purpose. God revealed to him that a Savior was to be born of the stock of Israel, that mighty promises were bound up in these children of Abraham and yet to be fulfilled, and that the time for fulfilling a portion of these promises was at hand. Moses put credit in this and believed. Faith was a telescope to Moses. It made him see the goodly land afar off--rest, peace, and victory, when dimsighted reason could only see trial and barrenness, storm and tempest, weariness and pain. Faith told Moses that all the rank and greatness of the earth was a poor, vain, empty thing, fleeting and passing away; that there was no true greatness like that of serving God. Faith told Moses that worldly pleasures were "pleasures of sin," ruinous to the soul and displeasing to God. Faith told Moses that these pleasures, after all, were only for a "season." They would weary him soon; he must leave them all in a few years. Faith told Moses that there was a reward in heaven for the believer that was far richer than the treasures in Egypt: a crown incorruptible.

What has all this to do with me? someone will ask. For one thing, if you would ever be saved, you must make the choice that Moses made. You must choose God before the world. I do not mean that the statesman must leave his office or the rich man forsake his property. But I mean that if a man would be saved, whatever be his rank in life, he must be prepared for tribulation. He must make up his mind to choose much that seems evil and give up and refuse much that seems good.

Are you making any sacrifices? Does your religion cost you anything? Are you, like Moses, preferring God to the world? Is there any cross in your Christianity? Do you know anything of the afflictions of the Gospel? Is your faith and practice ever a subject of scorn and reproach? Many, I fear, would like glory who have no wish for grace. They would fain have the wages but not the work, the harvest but not the labor, the reaping but not the sowing, the reward but not the battle. But it may not be. As Bunyan says, "The bitter must go before the sweet." If there is no cross, there will be no crown.

Dear reader, would you be eminently holy and useful? Would you, like Moses, make it clear as noon day that you have chosen God before the world? Then take this advice: go and cry to the Lord Jesus Christ, as the disciples did, "Lord, increase our faith." Faith is the root of a real Christian's character. Let your root be right and your fruit will soon abound. Your spiritual prosperity will always be according to your faith.

[runnfromtheak]

hide your soul out of his reach (soldier keep on marchin’ on)

New fic I posted on ao3 already, but I figured I’ll post it here too!!!!

What better for Dumbledore than a child with no sense of self-worth? What better than a child willing to throw his life away for any to show him kindness? What better for Dumbledore than a child who knew no love, burdened with a world of lives he’d value above his own? What better for Dumbledore than a child who lived only to die?

After all, the only difference between a victim and a martyr was how far they were willing to go, and by the time Harry had walked to his death for the final time, he’d had nothing.

“He accused me of being Dumbledore's man through and through."

"How very rude of him."

“I told him I was.”

 -Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince

* 

Tom Riddle made him a victim, but Albus Dumbledore made him a martyr.

 His existence has always been defined by tragedy, by death and destruction at a power-hungry creature’s – not man, never man – hands. His earliest memory to this day is colored by a green brighter than his mother’s eyes, voiced by Lily Potter’s begging and then her screams. From the moment that bloody prophecy had been uttered he’d been a target. From the moment Severus Snape betrayed his childhood friend in hopes of saving her, he’d been a casualty. From the moment Voldemort killed his father, the moment he’d ‘marked Harry as his equal’, Harry had been a victim.

He’d survived, saved by love, only to live a loveless life surrounded by hatred and anger for nothing more than breathing.

He’d survived, by virtue of the endless parade of corpses shielding him from his delayed fate, leaving guilt to fester within his heart.

He’d survived, but to some (him), the cost had been too high. He lived with Voldemort in his head, in his soul, with nothing but that haunting green color to remember his parents by.

 “…a power he knows not…”

 Before he could walk or speak, the entire world knew his name. Before he had his first friend, the entire world had a picture-perfect image of the Boy Who Lived – who he was, who he would be, and who he should be.

Nobody expected a knobbly-kneed child half-starved with a cupboard under the stairs as a bedroom. Nobody expected a Slytherin playing at Gryffindor, with the mind of the former and the heart of the latter. Nobody expected him, and that’s why he’d had such a hell of a time making friends.

Real friends, friends who didn’t give a shite about his name and called him out for being a git. Friends who were there in the hard times as well as the easy ones and didn’t run at the first sign of Voldemort.

 At the end of the day, he didn’t have many real friends, as the Second and Fourth Year had made abundantly clear.

 Harry James Potter had all the ‘mates’ a bloke could want, but Harry could count his actual friends on one hand. Because they expected things of him, they each had this image in their head of what he was supposed to do and who he was supposed to be. What magic he was to know and who he was supposed to know.

 To them, he was a hero, a savior, but he’d always viewed himself as a victim.

 By the time he came to Hogwarts, he’d been starved for love more than he was for food, desperate to cling to whatever scraps he could get. He’d needed proof he wasn’t a freak, proof he was important. The absence of parental love or guidance instilled him with a certain abandonment complex, a certain need for approval no one seemed able to satisfy. All he’d wanted was to belong, for someone to care, and that played perfectly into Dumbledore’s plans.

  “Difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind either. There’s talent, oh my goodness, yes — and a thirst… to prove yourself, now that’s interesting. . . . So where shall I put you?”

 Malfoy had been cruel, cruel to someone who had only shown Harry kindness, so he turned from that cruelty towards kindness. He’d had enough of cruelty with Aunt Petunia’s indifference and Dudley’s taunts and Uncle Vernon’s rage.

 “Not Slytherin, eh? Are you sure? You could be great, you know, it’s all here in your head, and Slytherin will help you on the way to greatness, no doubt about that — no? Well, if you’re sure — better be GRYFFINDOR!”

 Privately, he wonders if Dumbledore would’ve been as approving if he’d been sorted into Slytherin, as the hat had desired. He wonders loads of things about his old mentor, few positive. There’s a wisdom that comes with age, and a bright-eyed first-year fresh from an abusive environment didn’t have the distance eighteen-year-old Harry has.

But Harry hadn’t had that wisdom at eleven, hadn’t had it until seventeen staring into that same green light.

 “…I’m ready to die…”

 He hadn’t known it until he’d stared at the faces of those he loved, those who’d died for him, and Dumbledore never crossed his mind.

 Lily and James Potter, who died in his place the first time (his fault)

Sirius Black, who died to save him (his fight)

Remus Lupin, who died in a battle he prolonged (his war)

 He’d always been Dumbledore’s boy, through and through, but as he faced his destiny, as he faced the end to his suffering and the end of his curse on others…

 “So when the time comes, the boy must die?”

 “Yes…yes. He must die.”

 He realized some things, some lingering questions he’d never been brave enough to voice. Times where he’d thought Dumbledore completely barmy, mad, and never gained any insight on his brilliant plans.

 First-year, where Dumbledore guided him towards Voldemort, towards confrontation, for his destiny.

Second-year, where Dumbledore lied to him to preserve his childhood when he’d already almost died twice.

Third-year, where Dumbledore encouraged him to use the time-turner in place of an adult.

Fourth-year, when he still did not tell Harry his ultimate fate and allowed him to participate in a competition designed for adults that killed hundreds.

Fifth-year, where he kept Harry in the dark until it killed his Godfather, and even still did not reveal the death coming.

Sixth year, where he died and left Harry with a half-baked plan and a suicide mission he didn’t know about.

 He hadn’t had time for anger or grief with the guillotine handing above his neck waiting to drop, the expiration date written in his blood, body, and soul approaching zero. He hadn’t had time to process, which is exactly how Dumbledore would’ve wanted it.

Harry didn’t get a chance to understand anything other than his death, and his role in ending the war.

He’d been raised as a weapon – a sacrifice – gathering the necessary skills under Dumbledore’s careful instructions. Forced into a home that was no home because it left him vulnerable but made him protected. It left him desperate for approval, for Dumbledore’s approval.

 “You’ve kept him alive so he can die at the proper moment… You’ve been raising him like a pig for slaughter.”

 “Don’t tell me now that you’ve grown to care for the boy.”

 Dumbledore gained his trust through mystery, through kindness and distance and the appearance of being more than he was – caring more than he did. He made Harry think he cared, think he valued him, to earn his loyalty. The Dursleys insured Harry had no sense of self-worth, no sense of restraint, and what better than a weapon with no limits?

 From First Year, walking towards Quirrell and what he believed could be his death without hesitation, eyes narrow and trust and faith all he needed to straighten his spine, to every year after it.

He didn’t hesitate, didn’t question.

He’s walked to his death countless times in countless ways, sustained solely by the belief that Dumbledore knew best, and that the information he didn’t know was for his own good.

But then Sirius died, because Harry wasn’t given the right information.

Then Dumbledore took him on missions, still withholding information.

Then Snape revealed the truth, the real truth, with his dying tears

 “He must die… and Voldemort himself must do it. That is essential.”

 Walking to his certain death with eyes wide open and no faith left…

Staring into the creature that killed his parent’s malicious red eyes, watching his lips mouth the incantation Harry knew all too well as the world seemed to still…

 He hadn’t had the time to process what being raised as a weapon meant, to see why Snape had seemed so disgusted at Dumbledore’s words.

 But then, he lived.

 And he watched the memories again and again, until they were seared into his own mind.

 Maybe Dumbledore hadn’t known how the Dursleys would treat him, maybe he hadn’t known how miserable Harry would be…

 Or maybe he had. Aberforth said Dumbledore didn’t know how to view people as opposed to chess pieces, and Snape’s memories showed a colder side of Dumbledore Harry had never seen.

 “What will you give me in exchange, Severus?”

 What better for Dumbledore than a child with no sense of self-worth?

What better than a child willing to throw his life away for any to show him kindness?

What better for Dumbledore than a child who knew no love, burdened with a world of lives he’d value above his own?

What better for Dumbledore than a child who lived only to die?

 After all, the only difference between a victim and a martyr was how far they were willing to go, and by the time Harry had walked to his death for the final time, he’d had nothing.

 No parents, no godfather, no uncle figure, no family.

 Everyone he cared for died, without exception. His death spared many, but his hesitation cost many too.

 His death had been welcome, at that point. The Boy Who Lived had wanted to die, and that had been a difficult pill to swallow.

“Must be difficult to cope without Dumbledore’s favoritism,” Zacharias Smith says with a snort, looking at McGonagall from the Eighth Year table. “Can’t earn points just for breathing anymore.”

 Harry stiffens as the table goes silent, feeling Hermione’s hand clutch his wrist in a death-grip.

 “He doesn’t understand,” she murmurs, tracing patterns into his skin to calm him. “None of them do.”

 Harry grits his teeth, silent.

 “Come off it, Smith,” Ron fires back, “Just because a cowardly ponce like you can’t earn points doesn’t mean there’s favoritism.”

 “Like anyone buys that.” Nott crosses his arms and glares at Harry’s lightning scar. “We all are aware of Dumbledore’s… preferential treatment towards Potter and Gryffindor.”

 “You say that like I bloody well asked for it,” Harry snaps, hissing a little when Hermione’s fingernails dig into his arm. “You don’t know a damn thing about me, so don’t act like you do.”

 “Such a hardship that must be,” Smith fires back, and Hermione releases Harry’s hand with a small gasp as if burned. “Never-ending hero-worship that you don’t even have to ask for—”

 Harry’s burning, he must be, because his skin feels like an inferno and his heart’s beating as fast as it had when he died.

 “I was Dumbledore’s fucking pawn, Smith, that’s why he practically handed us the cup every year! He had me raised by fucking muggles that hated me so I’d be his perfect bloody soldier, his perfect weapon! He wanted me loyal to a fault even if it fucking broke me, to the point where I willingly walked to my death to get it over with!”

 And he stands, pulling away from Hermione and Ron because he just can’t deal with this, and his magic is hard enough to handle when he’s not on the verge of exploding—

 “You, all of you, seem to think that being the Chosen One is something I should be honored to be, that it’s something to want to be! I never fucking wanted to be special! I never wanted to die or to lose my parents and anyone who got too close because some sociopath with no nose said so! I never asked to be Dumbledore’s man, but I was because I trusted the man I knew, and now I don’t because he had me bred to walk to my fucking death! Do you want a walkthrough, Smith, of what the Chosen One actually is?! Do you want me to tell you how I can still hear my mother pleading with Voldemort to not kill me, that I can see her die every time a dementor gets too close?!”

 Smith’s face pales, and he doesn’t have to look at the staff table to feel the Headmistress’s eyes, to see Hagrid’s pity. The fight and the anger and rage leaves him all at once because he’s so tired. He’s tired of the grief and the pain and the suffering. He’s tired of the eyes and the judgment and the condemnation and the praise.

 “He is just a boy!”

But he’s never been just a boy.

 “Do you want me to tell you about the loneliness? About growing up either hailed as a Saint or hated as a madman? Do you want me to tell you what it’s like not being able to trust anyone, because they might use you, or they might betray you to make a quick buck? Do you want me to talk about loss, and grief, because everyone you love, everyone you care about dies? Do you want me to tell you about my Godfather taking a killing curse to the chest and falling through the Veil in the Department of Mysteries because of my mistake? What about death? Being marked for it, having to deal it out? Because that’s what the Chosen One is too. It’s death and pain and grief and loneliness, it’s self-hatred and martyrization and a bloody parade of trauma. What is it you want, Smith? An apology?”

 And Harry snorts because as much as he sometimes wants to drop to his knees and beg for forgiveness, beg for redemption for his fuck ups and failures, Smith has never deserved an apology. Smith has never been a victim, not by his hand at least.

 “You don’t deserve one, you cowardly git. I have many things I regret, and none of them involve you so shove off.”

 The Great Hall shakes as he runs, runs to lick his wounds and hide in peace, in the place where he lived and died and where he first saw Voldemort come back.

 It’s cold.

 Not as cold as before, when he’d carried the Resurrection Stone into the clearing and felt okay for the first moment since Sirius died, but cold still.

 The leaves crunch beneath his feet, and he can feel the draw of the resurrection stone, the remaining power trying to attract him. It’s tempting… tempting because he misses Sirius with a fierce longing, but he knows better. He does.

 Harry treads the familiar path, watching the clearing open towards where he felt peace, where the familiar curse corrected itself.

 “Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived… come to die.”

 He shivers, holding his too-thin school robes tight to his chest. He hadn’t had the foresight to wear a jumper underneath his robes or anything beyond the thread-bare shirt he’d bought while on the run.

 They don’t understand.

 They don’t know.

 They don’t know what it’s like to be hated for years in a home you never asked for.

They don’t know what it’s like to watch everyone you care about die and suffer for nothing more than knowing you, caring about you.

They don’t know what it’s like to crave death, to want to die, and then have to come back.

 He still doesn’t know he is outside of that death, outside of Voldemort’s death. Outside of Hallows and Horcruxes and a fragmented soul that never felt whole and still doesn’t. Outside of the titles he doesn’t want – Boy Who Lived, Master of Death, Chosen One – and the things he’s lost.

 Because he’s a victim, not a hero.

 He’s an orphan shaped by trauma and grief and hollowness, desperately chasing after love and affection to make up for what he’d never experienced.

He’s a child shaped by manipulation and misplaced trust, seeking approval and guidance to redeem himself for sacrifices he didn’t have a say in.

 And above all else, he is as Albus Dumbledore intended:

 A martyr.

 Too bad he didn’t stay dead.

[nadziejastar]

If you were to put together a deck of KH Tarot cards which characters would be which?

Ooh, this is fun. It’s like the characters in Persona.

Sora - The Fool

“The Wild card is a playing card that can represent any other card, or something that has an unexpected effect on a situation. It is like the number zero… empty, yet holding infinite potential within itself.”

The Fool represents new beginnings and carefree adventure. Though this card could indicate foolishness, it is more optimistic in the sense that it stands for pure actions and being free from the constraints of your present life. More than likely, there are important decisions coming your way. This Arcana is originally the only one that doesn’t have a number, thus it is considered as the Arcana number 0. The Fool Arcana tends to be the “jack of all trades”. Mythological figures of the Fool Arcana are often heroes, fools, or the protagonists of their own mythological stories.

Donald - The Magician

“Attaining one’s dream requires a stern will and unfailing determination.”The Magician is symbolic of action and power in your life. Its positive connotations illustrate someone who is a smooth talker and good at all aspects of communication. This card suggests using your strong will power to move forward and take action. A common trait shared between members of Magician Arcana is their strong vision and aspiration for the future, and fulfilling their inner potential.

Kairi/Naminé/Xion - The Priestess

“The silent voice within one’s heart whispers the most profound wisdom.”The High Priestess is a spiritually intuitive woman full of mystery, wisdom, and understanding. A journey of self-discovery goes hand-in-hand with the presence of this card in your spread. She stands for things yet to be discovered in your life. Individuals associated with the Priestess Arcana are usually quiet, reserved, hardworking and very intelligent. They are often modest and shy.

Aqua - The Empress

“Celebrate life’s grandeur…its brilliance…its magnificence…”

The Empress stands for all things motherly. A nurturing, loving problem solver, she indicates successful business ventures or other positive, productive opportunities to come. She suggests moving forward to fulfill your full potential. The Empress Arcana often belongs to women of authority or wise and motherly figures. Characters under this Arcana may also be cold-hearted in personality, but still present a high degree of care and concern towards others. And like queens, they are also very elegant in character.

Terra - The Emperor

“Only courage in the face of doubt can lead one to the answer…”  

The Emperor, as the counterpart to the Empress, stands for all things fatherly. He is structure, order, and authority in your life. While moving forward in your endeavours, this card indicates that assertiveness and rationality will take you a long way. In tarot readings, the Emperor symbolizes the desire to control one’s surroundings, and its appearance could suggest that one is trying too hard to achieve this, possibly causing trouble for others; some elements in life are just not controllable. Characters of the Emperor Arcana are often male leaders or father figures (or both). Often times, the Emperor character is troubled by something very personal and doesn’t know how to deal with it.

Eraqus - The Hierophant

“It is indeed a precious gift to understand the forces that guides oneself…”

The Hierophant is a symbol of education, authority, conservatism, obedience to rules and relationship with the divine. The definition of a “hierophant” is a person who interprets sacred mysteries or esoteric principles, and the term was originally used to name ancient Greek priests who did so. Characters of the Hierophant Arcana are often older than the protagonist, and are typically quite wise and logical. The most common connection between Hierophant characters, however, is their association (and obsession) with the past.

Elrena - The Lovers

“There is both joy and wonder in coming to understand another…”

The Lovers Arcana initially represented two paths life could lead to, and thus a symbol of standing at a crossroad and needing to make a decision. Today, however, it is portrayed more of a symbol of love and romantic relationships, although it can also be a symbol of finding agreement with an ordinary friend or even two conflicting elements within.

Goofy - The Chariot

“One of life’s greatest blessings is the freedom to pursue one’s goals.”The Chariot reveals some sort of journey. With a positive connotation, this journey will most likely be a progression of some sort. It could also be the final success you have been working for. Portrayed as a king leading a chariot made up of two differently colored horses. The Chariot Arcana is a symbol of victory, conquest, self-assertion, self-confidence, control, war and command. Characters who are of the Chariot Arcana are typically very driven individuals, who have a personal goal that they aim to achieve at any cost. Combat-wise, they also tend to focus on physical attacks rather than magic.

Even - Justice

“To find the one true path, one must seek guidance amidst uncertainty…”

The Justice card is all about karma, fairness, and balance in different affairs in your life. It does not suggest an outcome that is either for or against you, but accountability, dignity, and integrity are all liked to its presence. In tarot readings, it means that one will have face a trial of their justice. Commonly, characters of the Justice Arcana are concerned with matters of fairness, and otherwise are very stoic individuals.

Ienzo - The Hermit

“It requires great courage to look at oneself honestly, and forge one’s own path…”

The Hermit is a card symbolic of seeking some sort of spiritual enlightenment. Solitary introspection and contemplation are also associated with the Hermit. Perhaps some soul-searching and reflection are required on your part. Similarly, Hermit Arcana characters share the commonality of placing themselves in situations that hide them from the public eye. Hermit individuals hide away from others or act in more supportive roles rather than putting themselves in the spotlight.

Luxord - Fortune

“Alongside time exists fate, the bearer of cruelty.”The Wheel of Fortune stands for fate, luck, changes, and a new direction in your life. While it also shows ups and downs, the overall feel of the card is a positive one indicating changes for the better and good fortune. Human characters of the Fortune Arcana are usually individuals who attempt to seize their own destiny in spite of fate and are typically involved with making important choices and decisions in response to what life throws at them.

Riku - Strength

“Only with strength can one endure suffering and torment.”

The Strength card shows a presence of self-assurance and confidently facing problems in your life. It suggests a person who enjoys power but has the capacity to exercise great self-control in all matters. Portrayed as a young woman holding up a terrifying beast, the Strength Arcana symbolizes an imagery beyond the Beast and Beauty, and is associated with the morality about the stronger power of self-control, gentleness, courage and virtue over brute force. A commonality between characters of the Strength Arcana is their strength of heart. Strength characters are not upset easily and typically portray the fortitude that the Strength card represents in readings.

Dilan - Lust

“Clearly distinguish between your ego and your intuitive self.”

The Hunger/Lust Arcana is not found in standard tarot decks. The Lust Arcana is the Thoth tarot equivalent of the Strength Arcana, numbered XI. Lust symbolizes the danger of losing control, of being consumed by power. The card also implies strength, but strength which comes through Dominance. It is not true power, but the pure bliss of abusing power.

Ansem - The Hanged Man

“In the face of disaster lies the opportunity for renewal.”The Hanged Man suggests some sort of metamorphosis through breaking patterns, letting go, or going through a period of transition. Although it could indicate having to give something up in order to gain a fresh perspective, it has neither positive or negative connotations. In Tarot readings, this card’s appearance can be seen as an advice to take the time necessary to reflect over one’s upcoming actions. Hanged Man characters are sometimes self-sacrificial, but are more often notable for being caught between two different extremes, parties or stages in life.

Lauriam - Death

“Free yourself from a past that no longer serves you well and proceed toward the future with all your heart.”The Death card shows some sort of dramatic change in order to have a new beginning. It is often associated with some sort of loss, failure, or destruction. While it is associated with foreboding and doom, the Death Arcana also symbolizes metamorphosis and deep change, regeneration and cycles. In the earliest Tarot decks, it was the only Arcana that didn’t have a name, but the depictions of an ominous skeleton bearing a scythe led people to call it Death.

Demyx - Temperance

“Find balance in your life and approach problems with a calm demeanor.”

The Temperance card suggests divine intervention, optimism, balance, and harmony. The positive overall presence of this card in your spread reveals high levels of self-confidence and control in your endeavors. Characters of the Temperance Arcana are often struggling to find a balance in their lives and in their hobbies.

Braig - The Devil

“Making the wisest of decisions requires one to escape from the desires of temptation.”

The Devil is about all things negative. Anger, violence, temptation, fear, and doubt are just some of the terrors associated with this card. It suggests feeling trapped perhaps in an unhealthy relationship, an addiction, or a lie. Portrayed as a hermaphrodite devil over two naked and chained figures, the negative aspect of the Devil Arcana represents the urge to do selfish, impulsive, violent things, and being a slave to ones’ own impulse and feelings. Human characters associated with the Devil Arcana are often “devilish” individuals; they can be greedy, proud, lustful, or otherwise of poor character. It is not uncommon for this type of character to have somewhat of an antisocial tendency, often not caring much for the needs or well-being of others.

Aeleus - The Tower

“See things as you want them to be in order to make them become that way. Knowing the worst is behind you can give strength.”

The Tower is all about unexpected events and changes coming up in your life. However, the changes are along the lines of something catastrophic, disastrous, and overall negative. The Tower Arcana is commonly associated to overly arrogant, prejudiced and authoritarian organization, which walk to their own ironic demise. Furthermore, it is also more generically used as an omen of doom and disaster. It can be seen as the worst card of the deck, as it rarely has a positive meaning. Human characters of the Tower Arcana can be arrogant, and typically find themselves in bad situations where they themselves have fallen from grace.

Roxas/Ventus - The Star

“The time of your renewal is approaching. You have chosen the right path to restore your mental and physical health. By being brave enough to choose the riskier roads, you will inspire those around you.”

The Star’s presence signifies a period of respite and renewal for you. This renewal may be spiritual, physical, or both. It is a light in the darkness, illuminating your future and your past. The Star is symbolic of hope, renewal, and beauty. It suggests a period of spiritual tranquility, happiness, and positive opportunities. The overall feeling of this card is optimistic and serene. Characters of the Star Arcana embody their arcana’s traits of hopefulness and joy.

Isa - The Moon

“The struggle to reach your potential may bring about many conflicts in your life, but the results will be beautiful.”

The Moon is an illusive and confusing card. It suggests the presence of risks, secrets, and some level of mental confusion. It is associated with creativity, inspiration, dreams, madness, illusions, fear, fantasy, the subconscious and trickery. In tarot readings, it can also represent being attuned subconsciously to the world around, gaining the ability to sense things without being told about them or without anyone else knowing. Characters who are of the Moon Arcana are often similarly psychically-attuned, but a more common trend is their projection of their own fears and faults onto others. They often tend to have trouble accepting themselves for who they are and, because of that fear, try to correspond to an ideal person. And like the Arcana, there is a hidden depth as to why they act in their behaviors.

Lea - The Sun

“Let your light shine. Be confident in the sacred power of your original nature.”

The Sun, being the opposition to the Moon, is a card full of life, joy, and energy. It reveals positive achievements, successful endeavors, and an overall manifestations of good fortune in your life. It symbolizes happiness, joy, energy, optimism, and accomplishment. Occasionally, it is also associated with one’s initial happiness. Persona of the Sun Arcana commonly excel in Light and Fire-based attacks. They are typically mythological figures directly related to the sun, light, or fire. Characters of the Sun Arcana almost always (ironically) find themselves in terrible situations, the situation belying the underlying optimism present in nearly all of them. Also, as the Sun Arcana portrays accomplishment, some of these characters have deep thoughts about the meaning of life and manage to find their answers.

Xehanort - Judgement

“The fruits of your decisions are coming and you will receive that which you deserve. The path at your feet and the direction it is leading you are clear. You will see your ultimate desire through to the end.”

The Judgement card is representative of some sort of change or transformation, likely one that has already occurred. It could mean the presence of a spiritual or professional calling and making decisions that will lead to your success. The Judgement Arcana, in tarot, is associated with realizing one’s calling, gaining a deep understanding of life and a feeling of acceptance and absolution.

In gameplay, the Judgement Arcana is commonly associated with a balance of Light and Darkness. Figures of the Judgement Arcana are usually related to Judgement Day myths or are gods tied directly to the judgement of humankind. Characters of the Judgement Arcana are well-aware, quite intelligent and view the world with infinite possibilities. Most powerful when combining their intuition with their smarts, their thought process is among the most vast and realistic.

Mickey - The World

“You must find your purpose to accomplish it. The same with dreams; you must first be aware of it to make it exist.”

The World card means satisfaction and success at a journey’s end. Fulfillment, rewards, certainty, and positive outcomes are all things directly associated with the presence of this card. It often appears as the final triumph arcana, creating miracles and aiding the protagonists. The World Arcana is a representation of the world’s totality, the symbol of fulfillment, wholeness and harmony. The World Arcana is commonly associated with Social Links, where its power is based upon the protagonist’s bonds with others.

[sanrionharbor-blog]

Everything I Can Reasonably Surmise About the GOT Finale

Disclaimer: Discussion of leaks, casting, and fantheorying follows. I neither completely trust nor distrust the leaks. Many of the leaks have ended up coming true, but I sincerely doubt that they are all 100% true. I’ll wager 90% true, but would love to be wrong. Some of the leaks for 8x05 sounded worse out of context (imo they’re still pretty bad--but, for example, the bells didn’t make Dany go mad they just represented a decision she was about to make--according to commentary it was the sight of the Red Keep and what it represented to Dany that pushed her off the edge, but--). 

Anyhow, let’s jump into it:

What They Have To Squeeze In the 80 Minute Time Slot

-Tyrion’s reaction to Jaime and Cersei’s deaths

-Davos’ reaction to Daenerys

-Tyrion’s reaction to Daenerys

-Jon’s reaction to Daenerys

-Arya’s reaction to Daenerys

-Something with Sansa (I really would not be surprised if this Mad!Dany demanded a trial, or said something sinister to Jon about Sansa--but Sansa is weeks away and I can’t see them rushing up there to take care of a hasty trial anytime soon)

-Daenerys’ reaction to Tyrion’s actions 

-Brienne’s reaction to Jaime’s fate

-Whatever the heck Dany’s armies are going to do after Dany’s fate is decided 

-Bronn (dunno what interesting thing he could do though--gosh, his whole sub-plot this season really was a throwaway huh...) (Please don’t give him High Garden)

-Bran (man I wish being a Three-Eyed Raven meant more to the showrunners --the amount of lore-related plots we could have had)

-Samwell (he’ll probably just be a cameo, sadly)

-Gendry (whether he takes Storm’s End or not, reunites with Arya or not)

-Epilogue for all surviving characters

Who We Haven’t Seen Yet

The leaks haven’t mentioned characters that have been confirmed with cast listings:

Edmure Tully

Robin Arryn

The New Prince of Dorne

Could they simply be cameos? Possibly. But the leak that mentions a council consisting of Bronn just sounds...look, I can’t put it past the showrunners, but if there IS a council, my money is on Tully and/or the Prince of Dorne being included over Bronn. 

The Fate of Tyrion

If the leaks are to be believed, Tyrion will be put on trial, probably survive (I’m actually 76% sure he’ll survive), and then become part of some sort of ruling council. I think his ending could have been so much more, but they dumbed down his character arc and watered down his character so much I just can’t see them pulling off anything more nuanced than that. The best I can hope for is a thematically satisfying marriage with Sansa, or hints at their being together--and I truly mean that from both a shipping AND non-shipping perspective. Having a Stark and Lannister willingly come together, having two characters who have long dreamed of romance and suffered from abusive relationships, wow, it would just be--it would actually be something of lasting substance I could take away from this show. 

Until then, there’s always the books. 

The Fate of Jon & Dany

I will be the first to admit--I can’t believe that the Dany Going Mad arc actually made me...well, I never really supported Dany, but wow did I emphasize with her in this season. I think she’s going to experience a descent arc in the books too, but I think it will be a heckuva a lot more complex, Shakespearian, well-earned, and dare-I-say human in the books. 

That said, I’m almost 100% sure Dany will die. The only other scenario I could see...geez, I dunno, losing her last dragon and going into exile? A death could at least be poetic, thematic. It’s possible they’ll give her a spark of humanity before that. It’s too bad we’ll never get her reaction to the old dragon skulls or other haunts of the Red Keep, since they were destroyed. 

I wouldn’t be surprised if they showed her in a vision with Khal Drogo and her son--harking back to her vision of the Iron Throne covered in ash, a throne she never touches whilst she goes through another door and towards her family.

Jon will probably kill her. Man, I feel bad for Jon. I feel bad for Kit Harington. He did NOT have to be this sidelined and one-dimensional of a character. Why on earth did D&D take “good guys will always be duped by their good intentions” away from Ned’s death, and then apply that to Jon and Tyrion? Ned meant so much more than that. Jon was supposed to be Ned 2.0, in my opinion, and Tyrion is probably meant to be Tywin 2.0.--but when I say 2.0, I really mean “what those characters SHOULD/COULD have been.” Taking the best elements, learning from their mistakes, and, while making new mistakes, striving to incorporate all of the foils and flaws and make the best of it. 

Which is a theme at the heart of GRRM’s books. Making the best of our own vice and virtue, no matter the personal cost. 

The Fate of Jaime

Look, I don’t want to get everyone’s hopes up. Jaime’s dead, right? 

The only reason I bring that up as a question is because they supposedly filmed on location for Brienne’s homeland and supposedly Coster-Waldau was seen there and supposedly Coster-Waldau was paid to appear in all six episodes. 

It would be somewhat cheap to bring back Jaime Lannister back from two stabs and the entire crushing weight of the Red Keep. 

No, it really wouldn’t make sense. Doesn’t mean they might not pull that out of the hat though. I don’t know why, but because I see a 2% chance of silly plot armor plot twist, I’ll include this. 

Bran As King?

I know, I know, it’s a lackluster ending. I can sorta see the in-universe logic here, though, and I can point out at least a few inklings of foreshadowing that Season 8 has given us thus far:

If the Bran as King is true, I think THIS was the point of Tyrion and Bran having two significantly framed scenes together this season. 

Tyrion will be one of the key players deciding on who takes the throne after, I only assume, Dany is taken out. Tyrion now knows Bran’s entire story. He’s vouched for Bran and cared for him since he was a boy--telling him that his life would not be limited by his disability, for the most part. He made him a saddle to help him continue living his life. He took the time to see Bran as a human being--something even Bran himself is incapable of these days. Then, they had their second chat, after the Long Night.

I think they’re going to establish that Bran having an insane amount of knowledge/the literal memory of all of Westeros + he can’t desire anything (good or bad) + he doesn’t want to rule (WHY DOES THIS MAKE A GREAT CRITERIA) = best choice. Which, um, again still leaves us with the heir-to-the-throne situation. 

On the plus side, if Bran were king, even if he had no heirs, it would still guarantee a Stark to inherit the throne. Specifically, Sansa’s child, because of her place in the family tree. Which means it only makes more sense for Sansa to get married/implications of being married, but see below for my thoughts on that. 

Of course, the other possibility is they introduce a quasi-Republic system or slap a little Magna Carta on the side. 

Or the leak is wrong. Time will tell. 

Romance

I actually don’t have a hard time believing that Arya and Gendry will reunite. They’ve at least set up Arya’s character for a moment like that: Arya, finally given permission via the Hound to turn back from a life of vengeance, Arya who inexplicably survived an entire city falling to pieces around her, Arya who also witnessed the horror that Daenerys released in a supposed rage of “this is what happens to people who mess with my family.” Yeah. I could see Arya now running to embrace life head-on and she and Gendry being the ones to continue on the Stark line. 

BUT. 

That doesn’t mean that Arya should be the only Stark who gets an S.O. and a new lease on life and the ability to carry on the Stark line. 

The possibility of platonic Sanrion is strong. The possibility of romantic Sanrion is just that--a possibility. Again, I simply can’t trust the showrunners to follow up on their extremely vague hints regarding Sansa and Tyrion. 

But it’s like Peter Dinklage once said: when it comes to Sansa and Tyrion, “...there’s just something you can’t put your finger on about them.”

The leaks say that Sansa rules Winterfell alone. Nope, I don’t agree with that as a satisfactory conclusion to her arc. Doesn’t mean it won’t be portrayed that way, but I have no trouble believing she’ll have a much richer ending in the books. Ned himself said she would be with someone kind, gentle, and strong. Yes, Sansa is strong on her own. But ‘aloneness’ goes against the Stark motto: the pack survives. 

Sansa and Tyrion make sense on MULTIPLE levels, but frankly I don’t expect levels from GOT. I don’t even feel anti towards D&D: I’m simply unhappy, disappointed, and yes, still holding out for at least some sense of closure from the finale. If they manage to pull Sanrion through, I would be happy not just from a rose-glasses perspective of a shipper--it would be something that thematically makes sense and fulfills so many parallels:

The War of the Roses parallel (uniting two warring families together)

The Florian & Jonquil parallel (a story from the ASOIAF universe; some have thought this applied to Sandor, a knight, or to Sansa’s misplaced trust in Dontos, a fool. But Tyrion embodies the archetypes of the knight and the fool and rescues Sansa time and time again; he is also, like Florian, not stereotypically handsome)

The Beauty & the Beast parallel (Martin has only explicitly stated that Braime are supposed to be a Beauty & the Beast story, but with Tyrion being a Lannister bro as well and also having toxic love vs. healthy love as one of his struggles, I see no problem in Jaime and Tyrion both sharing a twist on this trope)

Simply the fact that both characters are intellectual politicians who were able to make the best of an awful situation and vouch for one another when they didn’t have to. 

She could provide the heir that will inherit after Bran (if Bran becomes king) [theoretically, if we assume that Sansa does not get married and that Arya and Gendry have kids, Arya’s kids could still inherit, but, um, whatever I like Sansa’s kids inheriting mmkay].

Anyhow, that’s all I’ve got for now!

[siren-dragon]

FFXV Observation -- Episode Ardyn *Spoilers!*

Hello Everyone!

With the release of Episode Ardyn and the official completion of content for FFXV, I wanted to write my thoughts about the dlc down. And since the episode only came out today, there will be spoilers and everything will be beyond the cut.

Now be warned: this is just my personal thoughts and opinions of the new DLC content. If you don’t agree with it, that is fine; I only ask that you be respectful in your comments. Now then, let’s get started!

First of all, I just want to say that this Episode was beautiful and tragic, and I really loved it. While I didn’t get as much lore as I wanted (and I wanted the dlc to be WAY longer!) I did appreciate what we got. I have to say though, two really big highlights in Episode Ardyn has to be the music and the fact that we get to see a shirtless Ardyn. However, there were a few things with the story I found interesting and that was what I wanted to talk about.

Somnus Lucis Caelum:

Yes, the first thing I wanted to talk about was Ardyn’s “dear” younger brother; but please hear me out. In complete honesty, I really dislike this blatant hatred for Somnus. Don’t get me wrong, he did a lot of bad things- but we also have to look at it from his perspective too. In the Ep. Ardyn, Somnus actually tells Ardyn that he was jealous of him which is quite a feat for a prideful person. Now, as someone who has three siblings, I can kinda understand where Somnus is coming from. Even now, I sometimes feel pouts of jealous from my siblings despite us all being older. I can’t imagine how inferior Somnus felt when his older brother was literally the golden child of a entire nation.

However, this does not excuse his actions in regard to his treatment of Ardyn; what he did was cruel. What I do think is that Somnus did not know the the true burden of being king really meant. I feel like he wanted to have a chance to shine and show his people that he too wanted to protect them, even if it was in an extreme manner (*cough burning people alive *cough). But when Aera said that Ardyn was chosen to be king, I think that was the final push that sent Somnus over the edge. Even though they were meant to rule together (as talked about in the Datalog about the two blades being used together to symbolize their combined rule), Somnus finally had enough.

Yet when he was finally bestowed the Crystal and Ring, Somnus then understood the extent of what the calling of the king was and what Ardyn was meant to truly be. Somnus realized that he was never going to be the “True King” as that calling was for Noctis, and instead he pushed the only family he had left and was left with nothing but the guilt of what he did for 2000 years as his soul resided within the Ring of the Lucii. I’m not saying that Somnus was a good person and that he didn’t do bad things; he even says that he doesn’t expect Ardyn to forgive him as he knows he did terrible things. But let’s not forget that the two were once brothers and that once upon a time, they did not hate each other.

       2. Aera Mils Fleuret:

Now then...let’s talk about Aera. Okay, so here’s the thing: I’m kinda on the fence about her. She is a very cute character and it is sweet that she loved Ardyn, but I don’t think she is as perfect as some make her out to be. To be fair, no one in this game is perfect and everyone has their faults, some bigger than others, but there is some information about Aera that I wanted make known. First of all, Aera is the Oracle- the First Oracle; who was chosen by Bahamut himself to represent the will of the gods on Eos. The actual quote from the Cosmogony is this: “In the distant past, Bahamut, the Draconian, descended to the mortal realm and graced the people of Tenebrae. From among them, he handpicked a pious maiden and bestowed upon her the power of the Stars and his trident. Using these gifts for the good of all, she became the first Oracle—she who joins heaven and earth”

I don’t doubt that Aera loved Ardyn, but that is the key word there. I think that she loved him, which is evident by when she died to save him- but I believe that when Ardyn became recognized as the Adagium, she put her love for him aside. She betrayed Ardyn and told Somnus information that was, for lack of better term, meant to be classified in regards to the prophecy and who was too be king. Granted, she felt guilt for that, but Somnus did not manipulate her into to telling him- she did it of her own free will. Also, we need to take into account Aera’s own calling as well: she is the Oracle and is known to be a pious maiden. What’s interesting there is that pious actually means to not only be “devoutly religious”, but it also means “making a hypocritical display of virtue”, or to be self-righteous. In the more archaic definition, it means to be dutiful or loyal, in this case; Aera’s loyalty to her calling as the Oracle and to the Astrals. She actually forsakes her love for Ardyn and regards him only as the Adagium and that he will never escape his fate. She puts the needs of others before that of the one she loves most in the world, which is brave of her to have done but also a horrid betrayal to Ardyn too.

While I truly wish we got to see more of Aera’s relationship with Ardyn and how they grew to love each other, she is not perfect. She choose her duty over the love of her life and forsook him when he became a “monster”. Now, that is a difficult choice and I commend her for choosing it to do what is right for the world, but I don’t believe Ardyn will ever fully love her again after that (based on that ending where he kills her and Somnus)- her actions put in motion events that had damaged A LOT of people’s lives just as badly as Somnus did. I understand that she was called to be the Oracle, but she still made a choice and has to live with it too.

        3. Bahamut and the Astrals

Firstly, that title I just wrote sounds like a band name and it’s kinda of funny. But for heaven’s sake Bahamut, what the hell man? I admit, the dragon is a kind of a dick in the game, and that Ardyn definitely gets the short end of the stick with this. However, I can see some of where Bahamut is coming from.

They had a unknown illness that was ravaging the entire planet and the Astral’s didn’t know what to do and didn’t have the power to deal with it. And the Astral’s are sworn to defend the star at any cost, even if they must fight each other. So, I can see why they choose mortals to do their bidding for them, because humans are far stronger than we’re given credit for. Yet Bahamut’s folly was in not telling Ardyn that he had been chosen to bear the burden of darkness just as Noctis was meant to bear the burden of light. Ardyn simply wanted to help people, but Bahamut doesn’t explain that by containing the scourge within himself, he will eventually help the entire planet. Instead, he expects Ardyn to just suck it up and deal with what’s happened because that’s just the way it is.

I definitely think Bahamut is being very cold to Ardyn about everything, but you have to understand that what he says is that “so it has been ordained” meaning he too has no control over this. Bahamut even feels some pity for Ardyn too when he calls him a “pitiful creature” and I believe he knew that he was once a good man. But sometimes we have to do things that are unsavory because there is no other option- and Bahamut likely had no other option. It’s true that Ardyn was put through literal hell due to the calling he was given, but the Draconian actually compromises and allows Ardyn not only his revenge upon the royal family, but the reprieve of death too. He even warns Ardyn that if Noctis doesn’t kill him, he will just suffer forever in darkness and shadow; unable to die. If he truly didn’t care, Bahamut would have allowed the royal family to continue their existence and just have Noctis vanquish Ardyn with no consequences.

         4. King Regis and the Crownsguard

So, one bit of information I found interesting in the game was that the royal family actually knew of Ardyn’s existence. Which mean’s he wasn’t entirely forgotten, just locked away like some weird national security secret. The fact that there is a unit of Crownsguard that is entrusted to respond at a moment’s notice if Ardyn should be released from his prison is interesting. Which means that Somnus actually put in safety measures to ensure Ardyn didn’t escape. Also, the fact that Ardyn doesn’t know what “Adagium” means or is when he first awakens probably means his name was replaced with that word and over time it became a legend- like a bedtime story you told misbehaving children. “You better be careful or the Adagium will get you,” seems like a fairy tale that would stay in Lucian history.

Now, I have to say that after the fight with King Regis, I believe that he was one of the strongest kings Lucis ever had. First of all, Regis is able to physically manifest multiple weapons at once from his Armiger, which you don’t even see Noctis do when he activates his Armiger (they’re all spectral weapons). Secondly, Regis was actually brave enough and strong enough to fight off against Ardyn by himself in order to defend his people which was really cool to see. All in all, it was great to see Regis in his prime and engage in full-blown combat (no matter how short lived it was).

          5. Ardyn Lucis Caelum

I still have so many thoughts about this DLC, but I’m going to have to end it early and I saved the best for last. I have to say it was so much fun to play a Final Fantasy game from the villain's perspective. Ardyn is a wonderfully written character and I am going to miss seeing more of him; Darin de Paul did a magnificent job on this and he has truly managed to bring an amazing character to life. Now then, let’s talk about Ardyn’s story.

While I do feel sympathy for Ardyn, a lot of people have to understand that he is the villain and would likely never get a canon happy ending: which I am actually a bit pleased about. Happily, ever after endings are often unrealistic and it wouldn’t really fit with Ardyn’s character to have a happily ever after (that’s not to say one shouldn’t write fanfiction about it ;) After all that Ardyn experienced, it would be incredibly difficult for him to simply let things go and I think that is his main folly. He actually discards his humanity and basically goes “to hell with them” which is why I love him as a villain. Usually it is the hero that fights destiny, so I loved seeing Ardyn fight his fate while Noctis humbly accepts his.

Another thing I enjoyed seeing was the extent of Ardyn’s powers. Granted, we could have used that in the main game (maybe they’ll do a patch update) but it was a lot of fun to see all of his abilities. I honestly believe even Ardyn himself does not know all that he is capable of doing and is constantly evolving and discovering new techniques for him to preform. But it seems like there are abilities that are unique only to him as a Lucis Caelum; such as the way his armiger functions, the way he slows time as he “warps” or “shadow steps”, and even his illusions. Though ultimately, I liked that he was able to showcase all of these abilities without doing some extreme final-form transformation. 

Overall, this DLC has made me love my favorite character even more- even though it does not excuse his actions in the main game. He experienced so many horrors but that does not condone his actions. Despite how he was in the past, Ardyn is a final fantasy villain; and one of the best ones.

I am certainly gonna miss seeing more FFXV content, but all good things do come to an end. Now it’s time to go and write fanfiction about the new content. ^_^

[hylocerea]

A Light in the Black

((This piece is not written from Hylo's perspective. This is intentional. The next will be.))

"Mister Keldronai?"

The false-human glanced up from his ledger, peering over the half-moon lenses he pretended to need. "Yes, Melinda? Is something wrong?"

The woman was more nervous than usual, a curious change of demeanour. Her sureness was rarely affected by anything she was familiar with, so this had to mean something new. And new meant exciting to a creature like him.

"Not… wrong, exactly, no. There's just… a new customer who we're not sure how to handle."

He raised an eyebrow.

"It's a… draenei. One of the, ah, shiny ones. With the gold."

A Lightforged? Oh ho ho! Exciting indeed! He stood, closing his accounts with a smile. "Please let them know I will be right out to discuss business personally."

"Of course, sir. Thank you."

As she relatched the door behind her, he laughed softly, removing the wire frames from his face and setting them stop the ledger. He felt a deep excitement at this; draenei were exceeding rare among his clientele already. One of their Lightforged paragons was completely unexpected.

He took a moment to review his illusion in the mirror before exiting his office. Everything appeared in order, the pale skin of humanity draped over his form with practiced precision. He'd taken to streaking the black hair he'd been using for years with more grey, to better match his appearance as a man in the later stages of middle age. Everything seemed to be in order, though he had a moment of uncertainty. The Lightforged were special, he knew, theoretically imbued with some touch of the Light by way of a ritual involving the naaru. He wondered if this one would be able to see through him.

Keldronai knew how reckless it was to meet in a public space with someone potentially able to reveal him. That was part of the thrill. What may not have been apparent was how many backup plans he had in place or how easy it would be to explain such a thing away to the people being treated at his facility. The retreat catered to those suffering from nightmares and distorted perceptions; anyone declaring him a monster from beyond was clearly in the right place!

Still… perhaps some extra caution was in order. He kept himself on the razor's edge, assured by the immediate availability of his strength should it be required. The strain doing so placed on his mental faculties was not comfortable, but he could live with it for the next hour or so without too much trouble.

The "man" entered the resort's main lobby smiling, a picture of politely solicitous warmth. His pressed white shirt contrasted perfectly with the straight black of trousers, vest, and necktie. Those were the same shade as his glossy, shoulder-length hair, though without the same amount of grey streaking. "Welcome," he greeted the caprine woman. "I'm Keldronai -- Kel, if you like -- and I would be happy to talk to you about what you seek and what we can offer you."

The draenei eyed him with suspicion, though probably no more than she would anyone else. Her eyes were faintly glowing -- gold, of course -- and delicately angled in a face seemingly carved from living marble. She was beautiful in a distant, alien fashion, though the sternness showing through via posture and expression ensured one knew the beauty was purely aesthetic. There was no air of sensuality to be found.

"I am told," she said with little accent and no trace of uncertainty, "that you deal in dreams. That you are able to… affect… what one sees in their sleep. Or perhaps what one does not see. Is this true?"

He considered the implications before responding, trying to decide what she was asking. "It is true, depending on what you take that to mean. We offer an array of services, many of which can help resolve issues with poor sleep or troublesome dreams." He smiled a tiger's smile. "I would be happy to discuss your case in specific and draw up a recommended course of treatment."

Those glowing eyes narrowed slightly as she weighed his statement against some inscrutable metric. He wondered what he looked like through those eyes, even more curious if perhaps he could find out by stepping into her dreams. The taste of the unknown was so close, he was near to salivating.

"I would be willing to speak in confidence, yes. Privately, of course, and with assurances that it will remain so." There was a hesitation as she stopped herself from saying something more. He waited until her lips settled once again into a firm line so as not to interrupt.

With one nod to the horned woman and another to Melinda at the front desk, he gestured toward the door by which he'd entered. "Please join me in my office then," he entreated, perfectly tuned to a human image of kindly invitation.

Another hesitation preceded the acquiescent nod. Kel pondered the possibilities as he led the way through several short corridors. She is more afraid of being here than not. Her worry is about more than the content of her dreams. She has much to lose, though it is more personal than tangible. He opened the door to his office, allowing her to step inside first.

In the interests of efficiency and keeping up appearances, the space was the natural union of comfortable furnishings and a well-maintained library. The books on the shelves were all real, often treatises on Azerothian cultures and beliefs; the papers neatly arranged on the desk exactly what one would expect from a man administering a health and wellness retreat outside a capital city. He offered the draenei a seat in one of the leather armchairs opposite the desk, waiting for her to arrange herself before easing into the other.

"So," he began, "something has been bothering you lately. To start, please tell me as much as you are comfortable with revealing. The more complete a picture, the easier it is for me to suggest a path to where you wish to be."

He leaned back then, folding hands in his lap to wait. Patience was more than a virtue in this line of work, it was a necessity. Watching others struggle with where to begin their stories also offered the opportunity to observe them, build a better mental picture of the client. Keeping his excitement restrained was honestly the most difficult part.

"I… have had recurring dreams." The woman spoke slowly, frowning at the floor between them. "I am not often a dreamer, but I am even less often one who dreams of… bad things. Unpleasantness. Yet for some time now, I have had many instances of dark dreams, amongst which I have had the same one far too many times."

"I see," he said softly, watching the way the warm lamplight seemed magnified by proximity to her braided white-gold hair. A curious phenomenon, seemingly bereft of any active spellcraft on her part. "Repeated dreams -- or nightmares, the Common word for those dreams which are deeply unsettling or frightening -- are often believed to have special meaning. Sometimes it is a matter of great importance and worry, but there are many cases where there is a hint of prophecy to them."

He paused, shifting his posture to lean slightly forward. An expression of interest while also politely conspiratorial. "I have only a few experiences with the dreams of draenei, but those have suggested a certain gift for… potent imaginings. Perhaps a hint at how the great Velen came to be a prophet, even. As you are the first Lightforged to visit, I cannot say with certainty your experiences are the same, but I am inclined towards believing they are only more likely to have great importance given what I know of your people."

Her gaze slowly raised to meet his, the corners of her mouth straining to avoid pulling back into a frown. "That is not as comforting as you may think. I would much prefer the opposite."

Now that was interesting. Dreams of horror from a naaru-tainted creature? Dreams so unsettling she was willing to seek out help from beyond her people? What a delicious project this could be!

"In your position, I imagine I would feel much the same." He used one of his friendlier smiles, the sort reserved for frequent customers with whom he was on good terms. "However, discovering the nature of one's dreams is often the best way to determine how to handle them."

She sighed. His statement had obviously been expected, though she would have preferred otherwise. "What do you suggest then?"

"To start? A night or two on the premises. With your consent, I will monitor your dreams and sleep patterns for irregularities, outside influences, and similar issues."

"And if you find none of those or I do not dream?"

"Then I would recommend staying as long as it takes for the nightmares or recurring dreams to manifest again."

The skin around her eyes pulled tighter. A look of suspicion, no doubt, though he'd not encountered it before from a draenei. "That sounds like it would be greatly enriching to you."

It would, but not the way you're thinking. "If I were charging by the night, you would be correct. That is not how this place is structured, however. We are diagnosing an issue, and a difficult one. Until I can offer something beyond vague suggestion and what may be an inconvenience to your personal life, there will be no talk of payment."

She blinked, taken aback. "I am… surprised by that. You run contrary to many other human establishments."

Kel shrugged, leaning back once more and crossing one leg over the other. "For traditional services -- massages, guided meditations, simple dream warding -- there are set costs. Many of our customers know already what they want and seek it. We provide in exchange for a reasonable fee, enough to ensures our employees and caretakers are able to live well. But that is simply one aspect of what we do. Treating disordered dreaming is as much a health issue as many life-threatening diseases; requiring payment before even finding out what ails you would be… deeply unethical."

Their eyes locked for a long moment, the intensity of the stare making him more curious than ever what she saw when she looked at him. Eventually some conclusion was reached. She allowed herself to blink, nodded once, sharply. "As you say then. I presume my expectation of complete privacy in whatever room you provide is correct?"

"It is. Provided you agree to it -- and you will be asked every night -- the only time that would not be private is what you see in dreams. And even that would be restricted to a single other person who will not discuss the details with anyone but you."

"I see." She breathed deeply, her backswept horns describing a semicircle as she shook her head. "Then I suppose I am seeking… admittance… to your facility."

"Seeking is not necessary. Our space is yours as long as is needed." He stood slowly, giving her the opportunity to rise at whatever speed she chose. "If you please, let us return to the front desk. You can sign in there and we will go over what other services are included and which may cost extra."

"That is acceptable, yes."

"Very well." As they made their way back, he began a proper introduction. "Since you are now my guest, please know you can ask for me at any time. My name is Keldronai, and I am the founder of this retreat. Of the people here, I am the only one who handles cases that involve the viewing of others' dreams. The arcane techniques that allow me to do so appear to be unteachable, a fluke of circumstance rather than a more formal science, so you needn't worry about potential snooping from others. The rest of the staff handles more traditional things -- warding circles, managing the steam baths and saunas, and so on. If you have any questions while you are with us, simply ask."

She nodded, staring grimly ahead. "Very well, Master Keldronai."

"That all being said… how would you like to be addressed by me and the rest of the staff? Whatever makes you most comfortable is what I recommend, whether it is your real name or not."

She stopped midstride to give him an uninterpretable look. When he merely waited, she said, "I am… Hylocerea. That will do for me. If that is difficult for your tongue, however, 'Hylo' is an… acceptable… alternative."

"As you say, Hylocerea. Come, let us get you settled in properly."

[imperialfate]

Quintessence of Sacrifice

|     Three of Swords     |     Six of Cups     |     The Hanged Man     |

-----

“Those granted power invariably come to believe that they deserve it.”

-----

The worth of one’s Soul is impossible to measure, but that worth is and has always been of immense concern to a Guardian. For their goals - despite the suspicion and distaste offered by the rest of Awakened society - has always been to uplift those worthy Awakened souls at the cost of their own.

It is a contradictory act, then, to sacrifice oneself for another in an act of ego. It seems impossible that an act of Hubris might be taken for reasons that are Wise. And yet, this is the fundamental belief of the entire Order - that one can sacrifice one’s own Wisdom to allow another to rise up and become Wiser still.

But then, it is an act of Hubris to do such a thing, to consider oneself worthy of making that choice in the place of another, especially another who, by the virtues of one’s own argument, is by definition more wise than oneself. Voluntary martyrdom is an act of vanity. To throw oneself upon one’s sword, unasked and unforced, is more melodrama than sacrifice. The Guardians are naught but a society of willing victims, canonizing themselves in silence, comforting themselves in the illusion that their suffering grants them enlightenment.

“The Awakened version of a teenager, sitting by the window in the rain while she listens to Dashboard Confessional, thinking herself deeper and oh-so-much-more-world-weary than her poor, blind peers,” Oestra muttered, shuffling through a few legal documents on her desk.

She’s exaggerating, of course. Her peers are infinitely more subtle than a child who imagines herself the protagonist in a sad movie. Not that such a distinction makes them better - it’s worse, even. A child has some excuse, a reason to still be self-absorbed enough to create such fantasies about being made worthy through self-flagellation. The Wise should know better. It’s hardly a sacrifice at all if one believes that the very act of sacrifice will return more than they had lost in the first place. 

Neither does she believe the entire Order to be saturated with this perversion of the tenets. No, there are many of worth among the Guardians yet, many who have chosen their path in the open-eyed awareness that it might yet deny them Wisdom, and with no illusions as to the high cost. They do not imagine secret worth bestowed upon them in a fair exchange for what they have given up. There is no fair exchange. That is the point. The very act of engaging in such sacrifice is, itself, an act of Hubris - a necessary one, but an act of Hubris nonetheless. To deny that is to deny the foundations of the Order itself.

There is a rot at the heart of the Order. One that threatens to undermine all that it has built, and all that it means. There is one - or perhaps many - who believes that his sacrifice has granted him Wisdom beyond that of the rest of the Diamond Wheel. That it is his sacred duty to guide the turning of the Wheel, rather than simply pushing the souls already turning through their paths, both predestined and chosen.

There is a secret hierarchy of Souls. There is no denying such fundamental truth - some Souls will rise, and others will flounder. Banishers and Seers both, pinnacle examples of those who have proven themselves unworthy of their Awakening, through fear and greed. Some will lift themselves to great heights, and others will not. It is a fact of reality, despite how others might dislike the notion of it.

It is the duty of the Guardians to drive all, to demand from all, to test all. Some will endure, and others will not. But that is the key - all are pushed in this way, because anyone might be worthy. It is not the place of the Guardian to decide who falls upon which spoke of the Wheel.

“But there is one among us who dares try.”

Megalomania. There is no other word for such extreme Hubris. 

She slammed the folder in her hands down on the desk, earning a look of wide-eyed fear from the two paralegals hovering outside the office door. There were spells layered over the office that hid the meaning of her words, allowing them to hear only meaningless muttering, but it didn’t hide her frustration, nor the sound of the flat leather hitting the solid oak surface. Her gaze lifted to the two stares, her expression perfectly neutral. They would project whatever emotion suited them onto her expression - from the way they scampered down the hall, she imagined they saw anger in her eyes. Well, perhaps what wasn’t surprising. She knew she had resting bitch face.

A single long finger touched the speaker on her phone. “Liam, I need that report on the status of the Bachmann case. Now.” Short, clipped, but professional, her tone brooked no argument and implied a supreme confidence in the fact that the report would be brought to her within the next minute or so. No one here so much as considered refusing her. No excuses. Especially since each of them unknowingly bore sufficient luck that they simply couldn’t explain that the bus had run early this morning, or their car had broken down on the way in, or their computer had gotten a virus. Because it wasn’t true. Nothing like that ever happened to her employees. She wouldn’t allow something as fickle as fate to interfere with her plans.

The Bachmann case was, as far as anyone in the office was concerned, a pro bono case that she’d taken up as a spontaneous favour. It was not. The case itself concerned a young woman - Casey Bachmann - who had endured a mauling at the hands of a cougar and become paralyzed in the process, and who was now suffering terribly because she had been denied care on the premise that she had remained in the country after her visa had expired - though she’d only done so because she’d been injured so badly and was unable to safely travel at the time. It was a case of bureaucracy butting up against humanity; the humane answer was obvious, and no one argued that it was the wrong one, but there was still no one mired in the red-tape of the process willing to take the initiative to make the necessary exceptions, insisting always that it was someone else’s problem. Or they would, until the judge made it their problem.

Liam rushed into Oestra’s office, smoothing his tie as he came to a stop in front of her desk, and held out a manila folder. “Miss Park,” he greeted, clearing his throat one he realized just how out-of-breath he seemed. “Justice Berle will be presiding, but hasn’t reviewed the notes of the case as of yet. He has indicated that he intends to give both the prosecution and defense another three days to provide any additional notes they deem appropriate.”

Oestra - or Olivia Park, as she was known in the office and among the larger Sleeper community - took the offered folder and flipped through a few pages. Then she sighed. “There is no reason to do this but to urge the defense to provide something of value. They have nothing, if the judge is covertly begging them to submit like this. I knew our case would be solid, but it seems only a matter of time, now. Still, speak to Dr Kennedy again. See if she has any additional comments to make about Casey’s condition. There’s no harm in providing more information.”

This was not the sort of case that Oestra was known to work. Any lawyer, even a half-drunk ambulance-chaser, would need to put active effort into throwing the case in order to lose it. It was a simple matter of process, requiring a judge’s order that that person do something in order to cease the endless passing of responsibility. Nothing more. Oestra’s time was too valuable for something like this. No one fully understood why she would put such effort into something that, while horrible, was already unquestionably going to be ruled in favour of the prosecution. Everyone knew something else had to be going on. Perhaps the Bachmann’s were friends with the notoriously cold Olivia Park? Did Miss Park even have friends?

It was nothing of the sort. Casey Bachmann had suffered a suppression of her natural Awakening. Oestra had seen it coming, and had seen the bloom of Prime energy from where the attack occurred, and had seen it warp away from her screaming form as the cougar nearly killed her, instead of being thrown back by the energy of her Soul opening to the Supernal. 

The nimbus had been cloaked but unmistakable, hidden by a Masque. A Guardian had suppressed an Awakening, stepped into the Diamond Wheel and tore a Soul out of it, out of some misguided sense that it was mistaken, that he knew better who belonged there. The very thought of it made her lips pull back into a small, but unmistakable, silent snarl of disgust. 

Liam startled at the look on her face and excused himself.

The case was not some attempt to make up for what the traitor had done. Nothing in the Fallen World could recover what was lost. For Casey, the best Oestra could hope for would be that a full recovery might provide her the opportunity she needed to touch the Primal Wild again. It was unlikely, but better to give her that chance, however slim.

No, this was a calculated move. Oestra’s involvement in the case was bizarre. She had no doubt that the mage guilty of the suppression would recognize her interference for what it was - a sign that he’d been caught, that she knew what had happened, that she was working against him. There was no chance that she’d happened upon this case and taken it up for any other reason.

If all went as she hoped, he would take the sign for what it was an strike immediately. It was the most sensible response to such a move. The more time he left her to prepare to stand against him, the better chance she would have. A quick, deadly act would be required to prevent exposure.

She was counting on it.

-----

She’d planned for everything. She knew how this would play out from the moment she’d started planning it. She knew the corrupted Soul as only an Obrimos could. She knew the mind of a traitor, as only a Voice would understand. She hadn’t needed a mastery of Fate or Time to see the dominoes she so painstakingly lined up, and where they would lead when they fell.

Still. She hadn’t expected that he would be the one to knock them down like this.

Her spell had been the work of weeks. Most of that had been spent exploring the Astral Realm, seeking to face a daemon of the Masque. She hadn’t known who he was, then. Only the Vice he’d chosen for himself. That would have to be enough. The essence she brought back was burned in the casting, lending the spell its perfected sheen.

The pattern of it was bright, clear and perfect. A grand working of Prime, Fate, Space and Time that would rip a fatal spell out of her very body and throw it back at the one who cast it. It was a work of shimmering power, the kind of magic worked only by a true master of the arcane. Beautiful. Beautiful and false.

It needed be powerful and convincing, of course, because her attacker needed to believe that her response to his attempt on her life would be to launch a counter-attack. He needed to believe that his protection need be against the very spell he was working, so that he might build the perfect shield to protect himself against that spell, and discover only when it was too late that he’d left himself too open to anything else.

Alone in her Sanctum, she knew the moment had come when she felt a touch of magic tearing its way through her protections. She didn’t move. Coming to peace with her death had been easier than she’d imagined. To defend herself meant leaving it to chance that she might fail to reveal the traitor for who he was. To guarantee success, she needed all the power she could muster. He would have defenses. She would need to shatter them completely.

Spears of liquid thaumium materialized inside each joint in her body, shattering her bones, fixing her in agonizing place like a doll with joints seized by pins. She might have screamed, but that her mouth was fused shut by her broken jaw. She could not move. She could not speak. Some small part of her recognized the devious intelligence of such an attack - if he could not kill her in an instant, he would render any attempts she made to cast further spells all the more difficult by denying her the ability to make use of any yantras. 

Alas, she needed no yantras. She needed only the will to hold her Soul in her body for the split second needed to tear his memories from him. For that - that was the true purpose of her spell. The false pattern melted away as the magic exploded outward. His protections had been wrong, aimed to work against a similar attack of thaumium. Instead, her will-work drilled into his mind, pulling out the moment of unforgivable corruption in which he’d suppressed the touch of a Watchtower out of supreme egotism.

The memory was cast to every Magister in the Order, alongside the events currently playing out in both her Sanctum, and his. And his face, that look of horrified shock, when he realized what was happening. All of it, touched with the Supernal - a sign and guarantee that all of what was happening was the Truth.

She’d never seen him look quite like that before. She’d imagine that she never would. Maybe it spoke to her own arrogance, to think that, of all the available suspects, she truly never imagined that it would be him. Her mentor. Her teacher. Her guide. 

She might have cried, had she been given the opportunity. She had, perhaps, a half-second of life left in her - it wasn’t enough time to form tears. The sense of betrayal was a deep cut, but it was one quickly overwhelmed by the feeling of her life draining away. It felt both hot and cold, under the physical pain.

My body is a Lie.

It was a nice thought, but that didn’t do anything to dull the agony and nausea. Perhaps it was a Lie, but it was a hell of a convincing one, at the moment. God, she just wanted it to be over. She didn’t regret what she’d done - it was the right thing, the only thing. But a spear of hate raked through her consciousness in that last, rattling breath, as she realized that this was punishment. He’d designed the spell to not just to eliminate a threat to his plans, but he’d actually intended to torment her in her last moments.

Narcissistic and petty, she scoffed.

And then she was gone.

-----

To throw oneself upon one’s sword, unasked and unforced, is more melodrama than sacrifice.

Perhaps that was so. Perhaps that was what she’d just done. Had there been another option? What of the risk involved in defending herself, and giving him time to recover? Was it unforced?

Did it matter? Maybe she was being melodramatic. But it wasn’t as if she’d ever imagined herself to be more noble for it.

Maybe that was the difference. 

For all the power she’d gathered, she’d never claim that she deserved it.

-----

Spell: Read the Depths, Scry, Supernal Veil, Words of Truth Rote 3 Reach Available, 6 Spent

Spell Factors Advanced Primary Potency - 16 total + 2 vs dispel, 5 for primary, 20 dice spent. Standard Duration - 1 turn, 0 dice spent. Standard Casting Time - 3 hours, 5 dice gained. Advanced Range - Sympathetic, 2 reach spent. Advanced Scale - 10 subjects (attacker + 9 magisters), 2 dice spent.

Other Reach Add a spell beyond limit - 1 reach spent. Veil the spell as something else - 2 reach spent, 1 per falsified spell.

Yantras Mudra - +4, empathy Sacrament - +3 Shadow Name - +3 Mantra - +2 Sympathy - -2, medium connection

Outcome Paradox - 0 Mana Spent - 3 Total = 6 Gnosis + 5 Prime - 17 Factors + 10 Yantras = 4 dice pool 4 ÷ 3 = 2 successes (due to rote quality).

[breachy-breeches-creation]

Miscellaneous things regarding Cordelia [2/?]

There's always something that one might find difficult to get rid off, or perhaps refuse to let go: vices, virtues, objects of affection, items of sentimentality, places of nostalgia, rituals of wisdom, tics of remnants, ...prayers of vengeance.

---

Since the days of the Alamarri, passed down to their descendants, it is a tradition for the Couslands to cease any grooming other than what is necessary as a sign of grief, especially if the deceased is one of the parents. While the Maker has gifted the soul and the heart, one's mortal body is given to them by the parent's flesh and blood.

With the Castle seized and no ashes to mourn, for Cordelia, her hair had become such physical manifestation, a silent oath to her father and her family; to stop the Blight and bring justice to Rendon Howe. The charred tips of her hair reminded her of the scorching fire that very night, as the stone wall crumbles, the residents screamed, and the last image of her father laying in a pool of blood and mother, who chose to stay behind with her husband, etched into her very soul.

Her voluminous raven hair would often be all gnarled, tangled and puffed up like a lion's mane. That might take hours to brush it thoroughly if they had time to spare. If one gathered all the loose locks (and perhaps some mabari fur shedding) in her tent every couple days, it would be enough to create a suitable bird's nest.

There are moments where loose strands that got in the way of her vision where she simply pushes them behind her ears. At times that long mane has become her bane, and almost cost Cordelia her life. ---

Leliana had offered to trim it short for Cordelia, and no doubt she would do an excellent job.

However, she had refused. Such a decision had piqued the bard's and several other companions' interest, as her hair had evidently become inconvenient on several occasions.

When questioned, Cordelia expressed she could not answer. For the burden was hers and her's alone. As the de facto leader of the group in this very time of the Blight, she must steel herself and there was no time to be sentimental.

Most importantly, she knew, when the memory so fresh and fire of hatred yet to be tempered, she knew she would simply break down there and then, unable to recover.

That one time when Alistair asked if she had lost anyone important to her as he had lost Duncan, she almost spilt. With a heavy sigh, she holds her emotion steady and answered the fellow Warden plainly. Alistair apologized immediately. Cordelia shakes her head and expresses she is not offended. She cannot fault him for asking, as she understands what it is like and he means well.

To Cordelia's astonishment and perhaps everyone's, Morrigan was the first person, along with Zevran, to stand in her defence and chastised the rest of the group for prying into someone else's privacy.

Cordelia thanked them soon afterwards. While the Crow simply smiled and nodded, the Witch of the Wilds scoffed at the expression of gratitude, saying that she does not care for gossips when there is a more important task to attend to.

Yet when Cordelia gazed upon the dark-haired woman, the golden eyes were softened with worry. It was then Cordelia knew, she could share her deepest secrets and would not be betrayed.

Hair braiding was first prompted by Leliana as the solution to Cordelia's overlong hair, then gradually became a frequent favourite bonding activity with each other during their downtime at camp.

Occasionally the group contest amongst who can do the most elaborate hairstyles for Cordelia.

Leliana's are extravagant and gorgeous, core to every maiden's heart and dream.

Zevran's are exquisite and alluring, like an exotic beauty from a faraway land.

Wynne's are simple and elegant, with much temperance and wisdom.

Alistair's are a bit sloppy but nonetheless adorable, like home and timeless warmth.

Sten might even join in from time to time, "Showing how it is done under the Qun" he said. The Quanri's style is firm and practical, and Cordelia never had to worry any hair sticking out for the rest of the day.

Morrigan would take much convincing, but eventually, she would yield to the constant plead and anticipation of the Warden. Her's are tribal and wild, adorned with colourful beads, like the tales of warrior women that Cordelia has heard much of in her childhood.

Shale never participated but once in a blue moon, the golem would offer shiny gems she happened to collect along the way for Cordelia to decorate her hair.

Oghren just sits by and watches, and joins in on the laughter while enjoying his alcohol.

And the mabari? He was just happy that his mistress is having a great time.

---

The Gauntlet at Temple of Sacred Ashes was where she shed her first tears in many months. Cordelia had thought it was all drained and dried up that very night.

She knows it was a spirit conjuring a familiar form, and yet here she is, eyes watered at the sight and voice of the ghost of her father.

She understands now, to acknowledge the pain and the guilt and let go. It will take time, she isn't alone.

---

Underneath the mansion that belongs to the Arl of Denerim, in the deep ends of cobblestone, with moss growing from each crevice.

Chains lay on the walls, with hammered metal shackles on the floor. In the air hung the scent of death... and suffering.

At last, she came to face Rendon Howe, the murder of her family, the nemesis in her nightmares.

As her family’s sword sank into his heart with one hand, strangling the last breath out of him with her long braided hair. The moment Howe went limp, she feels...calm.

So tranquil that it almost frightened her. This isn't her first kill, and wouldn't be the last. However, this one, in particular, seems to have a large weight on her shoulders lifted and burden in her heart gone.  

As she glances at the fallen corpse, she can only see an entity that consumes power and greed and was in return devoured by it. How fitting it is where he last stands.

Cordelia whispered prayers to the Maker and his bride Prophet Andraste, thanking them for their guidance and forgiveness on this cruel world.

The hurts are gradually soothed by these moments spend together and become Cordelia's treasured memories, that she reminisces often upon fondly.

The scars remain and always will. It is what forged her into what she is now.

Her mind unwavering and blade will always strike true.

---

Her brother Fergus have survived the Blight and returned, and the Cousland Castle reclaimed, Cordelia and her betrothed King Alistair took some time off and went to visit Highever.

Cordelia stands at the peak of a cliff, the wind is strong and the rain drizzled on her delicate face. The moment is perfect.

She untied her hair loose and hands the ceremonial dagger with Cousland crest to her beloved fiancé. "Will you do the honours? My love."

"I'm going to the miss your long hair, you know."

"It will grow back long enough for the wedding."

When the moment the dagger cut through her hair, she felt her head become noticeably lighter.

Cordelia gazed upon the thick lock of hair that was once part of her one last time, she extends her hand and released it from her grasp.

Watching them scatter with the wind, Cordelia smiled.

Finally, a new chapter can begin.