#i guess the reason its sticking out so much to me is . my ongoing quest to understand my own perception of reality.

[leolaroot]

this is something I've been trying to put in words since literally my first watch of farscape and I am still unsteady on it so whatever I'll just post and see if anyone else can explain it better than me.

farscape is a show that cares a LOT about perception of reality. it's a show that spends a lot of time and stories exploring the way that events are perceived, interpreted, and understood. but I don't know what it has to SAY about that or if it has anything to say at all.

[mllemaenad]

Cruelty vs Compassion: Cullen and Niall in Broken Circle

Cullen: Uldred tortured these mages, hoping to break their wills and turn them into abominations. We don’t know how many of them have turned.

Irving: What? Don’t be ridiculous!

Cullen: Of course he’ll say that! He might be a blood mage! Don’t you know what they did? 

Greagoir: I am the knight-commander here, not you.

I know much is made of the torture Cullen suffered in the Fereldan Circle. In Dragon Age 2 it is used to set him up as an extremist, and an ally of Meredith. In Dragon Age Inquisition it is used to excuse and moderate his actions in the previous game, and to justify his ongoing persecution of mage characters.

However, I think it’s worth looking at that scene in the original context, in Broken Circle. Here, it isn’t really about Cullen’s pain at all. Rather, it is about establishing him, as well as his fellow templars, as the bad guys of the quest.

Bioware and its grey morality is ... a thing. When it works, it offers layers and complexity to the world and its story. When it doesn’t, it can leave the player frustrated and angry with a story that’s asking them to sympathise with vicious slavers, nobles and religious extremists.

Origins’s take on grey morality is to ... more or less literally let the player get away with murder, if they want. One way or another, you’re going to end the Blight, and then your Warden will either be a dead hero, or the living Hero of Ferelden, who can damn near do no wrong. While in Inquisition, and even DA2, it can be difficult to remain friends with a companion if you take a hard line stance on something they hate, in Origins they rarely have strong reactions to quest-based decisions. And hell, I have the Feast Day pack, so Seanna could disagree with her companions all day and then feed them cake until they loved her again, if she wanted. Origins is big on options; low on consequences.

It does, however, tend to give you a broad sense of which would be the ‘good’ or ‘evil’ options in a given quest. Murdering slaves to increase your stats is evil. Saving children from demons is good. Some quests have multiple options, and I don’t necessarily agree with the framing (the morality of The Urn of Sacred Ashes is pretty fucked up, if you ask me), but you can generally get a sense of whether your Warden’s behaviour counts as moral.

Cullen’s torture in Broken Circle, and his reaction to it, exists in counterpoint to someone else’s torture, and his reaction to it. Cullen is a foil to a much more important character: the man with the plan, and possibly the true saviour of the Fereldan Circle – the mage Niall.

Niall: Who are you? Where did you come from? Are you a demon?

Cullen: This trick again? I know what you are. It won’t work. I will stay strong.

Niall: This place drains you of everything ... hope, feeling, life ...

Cullen: Enough visions. If anything in you is human ... kill me now and stop this game.

Unless you actively choose to go back downstairs after completing the Fade sequence (who hasn’t forgotten they still need to fight Shah Wyrd and made a last minute dash to the ground floor at least once?) you’ll likely have these encounters one after the other. Collecting the Litany of Adralla is the last step before you’re ready to take on Uldred.

It’s impossible to miss the parallels in these encounters: both men have been captured and tormented by demons; both are exhausted, despairing and at the end of their endurance; both have been confused enough by demons and Fade dreams to initially mistake the Warden for another spirit.

Niall: I gathered some of my fellows and we obtained the Litany from the stockroom. I thought if we disabled the others, we could throw everything we had at Uldred.

Niall: But I saw my friends fall, one by one, and now it’s my turn.

Cullen: You broke the others, but I will stay strong, for my sake ... for theirs ...

Both have lost the friends they came with, and have found themselves the last man standing against an enemy they have no hope of defeating. Both have, in short, had a really shit couple of days. They’re not equally bad, of course: Niall is being quite literally eaten alive by a sloth demon, and will not survive the day; while no doubt exhausted and distressed, Cullen is more-or-less fine. But let’s not quibble: they’re both in a bad way.

Niall: It is time for us both to be on our way. Remember the Litany of Adralla. The Circle is all that matters now.

Cullen: To ensure this horror is ended ... to guarantee that no abominations or blood mages live, you must kill everyone up there.

And, significantly, both characters advise you on how to complete the quest: Niall wants you to save anybody who’s still breathing; Cullen wants you to murder everyone. Niall’s plea, while impassioned, is also reasoned and well thought out – he came in with a plan, a good plan, and he only needs your help to complete it. He is profoundly dignified, even at the point of death, after days of wandering through the same hellscape you just golem-and-fiery-skeleton-ed your way though. He judges himself for failing to win a battle he should never have had to fight. Meanwhile, Cullen is aggressive and demanding. He rejects any offer of compassion – especially from Circle mage Wynne, despite the fact that she has come to save him – and he doesn’t really have a good argument as to why you need to kill everyone. It boils down to ‘kill them just in case’.

You don’t need to put a halo and a pair of horns on these two to guess who is sitting on which shoulder.

It’s worth noting, at this point, that the choice between Niall’s way and Cullen’s sits against the background of information you’ve gathered as you ascend the tower. Mage wardens will obviously have a little more context for the places and characters you meet, but you don’t need that. The story establishes it on its own: templars are full of shit; mages are pretty awesome.

Greagoir: We saw only demons, hunting templars and mages alike. I realised we could not defeat them and told my men to flee.

Greagoir: They took us by surprise. We were prepared for one or two abominations – not the horde that fell upon us.

Greagoir: No one could have survived those monstrous creatures. It is too painful to hope for survivors and find ... nothing.

When you first enter the Circle you encounter Knight-Commander Greagoir, who makes it abundantly clear that, though the templars are technically trained in dealing specifically with demons and blood magic, they were in no way prepared for any situation involving demons, plural. They cut and run immediately, leaving behind both the entire mage population and their own templar brethren. Greagoir is firmly of the opinion that the situation in the Fereldan Circle is not survivable. Everyone in there who is not a demon is dead.

Wynne: It’s you! No ... come no further. Grey Warden or no, I will strike you down where you stand!

As soon as you step through the doors, you find that he is thoroughly and disastrously wrong. You encounter an entire section that has been successfully cleared and secured. You watch a mage defeat a demon – entirely without your aid. You see that, not only are there survivors, some of the survivors are children.

Greagoir: This situation is dire. There is no alternative – everything in the tower must be destroyed so it can be made safe again.

Wynne: Yes. Even if we cannot eliminate all the demons and abominations, together, we could lead the survivors out.

Greagoir’s plan is simply to murder everyone: to charge in and stick a sword in anything that moves (children included) without any thought of strategy or reason. Wynne would like to be methodical: she would like to go from room to room, killing any hostiles she encounters, and send survivors down to safety.

We already have evidence that Greagoir's assessment of the situation is wildly inaccurate – the mages in front of us. Likewise, we have evidence that Wynne and her people can follow through on the plan: they’ve already cleared this area, and protected the children.

Wynne pairs with Greagoir and Niall pairs with Cullen. The debate you hear at the bottom of the tower is repeated at the top. In both instances, the mages present solid plans to save as many people as possible; in both instances, the templars advocate wanton destruction for no clear reason.

The templars’ argument is further undermined by evidence you find as you climb the tower:

Pile of Rubble in first area after ascending to this level: I have the utmost sympathy for what happened to your charge, but it is beyond the Cicle's ability to anticipate every obscure demise that an apprentice might face, especially involving methods outside the already extensive realm of magical study. We simply don't have the room for additional training facilities, and there are concerns about becoming too inclusive that I will not elaborate on. Your request is denied.

--First Enchanter Sinclair

Pile of Books in next room after escaping from the Fade: If space is your excuse, I will surrender my quarters. If it is about money, I will hire the appropriate people. I will not graduate another student ignorant of weapons that any ditch-digger can shove into his ribs. We teach them to append ridiculous glamours on parade arms, but they don't know simple steel. That is criminal.

--Enchanter Bergin

Pile of Books in room with Blood Mage and Charmed Templars: Notice herewith that the exercise area on the fourth floor shall serve as permanent berthing for the templar garrison stationed at the tower. Since facilities that accommodate their particular training requirements are already on hand, they will be assuming an even closer watch over Circle affairs. Enchanter Bergin's optional weapons training is canceled until further notice. Enchanter Bergin has additionally stepped down from teaching duties.

--First Enchanter Sinclair

– Extracurricular Studies

It’s established that the mages have been actively prevented from learning how to defend themselves. There used to be combat classes, taught by someone named Enchanter Bergin, but he was forced to stop and templars moved in to his space to “assum(e) an even closer watch over Circle affairs”.

Owain: Please refrain from going into the stockroom. It is a mess and I have not been able to get it into a state fit to be seen.

Tranquil: Thank you. That was an uncomfortable experience.

Nevertheless, there are several encounters with mages and tranquil in this quest who are fighting, hiding, resisting torture – still trying to find a way through this nightmare. There are survivors. Despite what the templars tell you, there are people you can save.

Desire demon: We are partners. I give him what no one else can, and through him, I experience what it is to be mortal.

Meanwhile, Cullen outright admits that the rest of his comrades broke (we have only his word that he didn’t, which strangely enough he expects us to accept, while not regarding Irving’s word as good enough), and there are no free templars in the entire quest. They are all possessed or charmed by demons.

Broken Circle is asking you a simple question. Which do you want? Warriors trained in dealing with the arcane and the monstrous who will absolutely scream and run away if the fight gets a little bit difficult? Or civilians with no combat training who have proved to be surprisingly resilient in a crisis?

Strategically, that might be a bit tough: what you actually want is competent professionals, and those are in short supply right now. Morally, it’s an easy call: the mages are heroes, survivors and innocents; the templars are murderous cowards.

Alistair: His hatred of mages is so intense ... the memory of his friends’ deaths is still fresh in his mind.

Wynne: He’s suffered pain and anguish like few have had to endure. That and his lust for revenge have confused the issue –

Cullen: Do not presume to judge me, mage! I am thinking clearly – for perhaps the first time in my life.

Cullen: As you can see, I am in no position to directly influence your actions, though I would love to deal with the mages myself.

To return to Cullen’s motivation – while no one is disputing that he’s had a really bad day (We’re not! We’re all being very understanding about his demands for mass murder!), the story doesn’t actually emphasise his distress very much. That is raised and dismissed. What is raised and accepted is that Cullen is angry. Cullen is vengeful. The mages (some of them, anyway) have risen up, and templar blood has been spilled. Now mage blood must be spilled in return. It doesn’t matter very much if the mages were involved in the uprising or not. He just wants to kill them in an act of revenge.

While we can understand Cullen’s grief over his friends at a personal level, it’s worth considering whether it’s reasonable. We have just established that the mages are imprisoned in the Circle tower, that they have been prevented from learning how to protect themselves, and that the templars have not only abandoned their charges to die, they are actively in favour of murdering them.

Do ... we care that much about their deaths? This looks like the only part of the uprising that went right.

This is like Nathaniel Howe’s distress over his father’s death. Of course you can sympathise: this was his dad. But at the same time, you expect him to look at the evidence, and come to understand that his father was not an innocent. Nathaniel does, because he is a fundamentally decent person. Cullen doesn’t.

Put another way: if you’ve played Fallout 4, you’ll note that the NPC raiders sometimes cry out in grief and distress when their comrades fall in battle. That’s a nice touch on the AI: the raiders are human beings, with human emotions, and the people you’re killing are their friends, their family. But when the battle is done and you walk into their camps ... and you observe the bloody remains of their victims scattered about for decoration ... maybe you don’t feel too bad about making them sad?

Same deal.

The original epilogue for this quest has this:

Templars

Once the tower was rebuilt, Knight-Commander Greagoir stepped down from his post and retired to a life of private contemplation as a brother in the Chantry. His health failed over time, and after refusing treatment, he perished in his sleep. Knight-Commander Cullen was said to be more strict and less trusting of the mages even than Greagoir was. He ruled the Circle with fear.

Mages

The young templar Cullen never quite recovered from his ordeal. After months of attempting to convince his superiors that the tower was still a danger, he finally snapped and killed three apprentices before being stopped by his fellow templars. Eventually, Cullen escaped from prison, a madman and a threat to any mage he encountered.

– Epilogue

Now, I realise the details of this have been pretty thoroughly retconned. There is absolutely no point in bringing this stuff up in relation to later games. However, it is worth looking at the epilogue in relation to the original quest. Regardless of the ending you choose, these epilogues tell you that the real threat was never the mages, or even the demons. The threat was the templars – the individual murderer, or the institution with a cruel man in charge.

The mages are not possessed (at least not in a harmful sense – Hi, Wynne!). They are not evil. But the templars always have power over them, and they can hurt them simply because they hate them. Cullen hates them, and was thwarted in his vengeance. So he hurts them.

Also, if you mash those two endings together and change the location you’ve pretty much got the plot of Dragon Age 2. So the details have changed, but the theme remains the same.

To end: Broken Circle fundamentally lets you choose. You can show compassion to the tortured mages, who asked for none of this, and who were never prepared for this violence. You can accept the aid of their heroes, enact a plan, and save the survivors. Or, you can murder them to satisfy the vengeance of their gaolers who resent having to take any risks on behalf of their charges.

Niall represents that compassion. Cullen represents that cruelty. It isn’t really about Cullen’s tragedy at all. If anything, it’s about Niall’s. And yet, two games on, he is effectively forgotten.

Niall: Dark times, greater acts of heroism, eh? You may be right.

A salute to Niall – who fought for compassion and saved the Circle (at least from my save game) when the templars would have destroyed it.

[drsilverfish]

The Riddle of the Sphinx: 14x12 Prophet and Loss

First, thanks to @verobatto-angelxhunter  @gneisscastiel @magnificent-winged-beast @emblue-sparks  @mrsaquaman187  for inviting me to guest this week, as part of their ongoing SPN #Metafest project @metafest  

along with several other guests:  @bluephoenixrises  @poorreputation @agusvedder @amwritingmeta   @savannadarkbaby @prairiedust  and

@norahastuff 

I’m going to guest meta about the Riddle of the Sphinx.

Here is creepy Tony Alvarez drowning his first victim. 

Despite an opening dose of Bucklemming torture-porn (ugh - although tbf there was a narrative point, as the drowned girl was a mirror for Dean, just like the slain first-born son and the dude who almost got barbecued were - more on that later...)... So, yeah, despite that, I was thrilled to see this in the visual narrative architecture - the Sphinx Machine Shop, where Tony does his mangled prophecy induced killing.

The Sphinx, as you know, is a fearsome part-woman, part winged-lion beastie, in Greek mythology, who was famous for guarding the entrance to Thebes and asking travellers to solve the answer to a riddle in order to gain safe passage to the city. If they failed, she devoured them.

She is tied in mythology not just to puzzles and their solutions, but to fate...

Here is the Sphynx of Naxos, from the Temple of Apollo at Delphi (560 BCE)

Image from https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sphinx_of_Naxos 

The Temple of Delphi was the site of the Oracle of Delphi, who was the High Priestess Pythia (a transferrable role) famous for her prophesies, which came to her in trance-states, supposedly from the God Apollo.

You see the link to SPN’s own Prophet role here.... 

The Sphinx also, famously, appears in Sophocles’ play Oedipus Rex, which became the basis for Freud’s also famous (and relevant a bit later) “Oedipus complex”. Sophocles didn’t invent the myth, but his telling is its most famous rendition. 

Despite his other misfortunes, Oedipus doesn’t get devoured by the Sphinx, because he solves her riddle, a popular rendition of which is: 

“What goes on four legs, on two legs, on three, and the more legs it goes on, the weaker it be?” 

The answer, is - a human (baby, adult, old person with a stick).

Oedipus’ story is a classic story about fate, just like Appointment in Samara (re-worked in an SPN episode, 6x11, but originally an old Mesopotamian tale) which @mittensmorgul  and I were talking about just recently, in relation to themes of fate vs free will in SPN (specifically in relation to the role played by Death - see here for the discussion:

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/182454009599/mittensmorgul-drsilverfish-mittensmorgul  )

Oedipus’ story is a (f-d up) family drama - rather relevant to our very own Family Winchester [no, NOT because this is all about either of the boys wanting to sleep with Mary Winchester - thanks Dr. Freud - although, come to think of it, Dean did say she was hot in 4x03 In The Beginning :-)]  

14x13 Lebanon promo shot 

When baby Oedipus is born, his father King Laius receives a prophecy that his son will grow up to kill him, and so, he sends a shepherd to expose the baby on the mountainside to die, before that can happen. The shepherd however, not being an asshole, saves the baby, and raises him secretly as his own.  

Oedipus grows up, and he eventually learns from the Oracle at Delphi herself (see above) that he is fated to kill his father and marry his mother. Believing the shepherd and his wife are his true mother and father, whom he loves, he leaves his home in the mountains for the city of Thebes, determined to defy the prophecy.

On the way, he meets a quarrelsome old man on the road, they fight, and Oedipus kills him:

When he gets to Thebes, he finds the King has been slain, by persons unknown, and the town is at the mercy of the Sphinx. Oedipus, by guessing the Sphinx’s riddle, obtains safety for the town and is, in gratitude, appointed King himself and given the widowed Queen, Jocasta’s, hand in marriage.

All is well for a bit, until a plague descends on Thebes, and Oedipus is told that to save the city, he must avenge King Laius’ death. So, he goes sleuthing, with the extremely relucant help of his seer Tiresius, and to his horror, discovers that he is the one who killed the King (that old dude on the road to Thebes all those years ago), that he is the King’s true son, and has, therefore, killed his father and, in marrying Queen Jocasta, married his mother and committed incest, fulfilling the prophecy he set out to escape from. He promptly blinds himself in horror. Poor ancient Greek dude. 

The Chorus laments the power of fate

O heavy hand of fate!          Who now more desolate, Whose tale more sad than thine, whose lot more dire?          O Oedipus, discrowned head,          Thy cradle was thy marriage bed;

http://www.gutenberg.org/files/31/31-h/31-h.htm  - Project Gutenberg translation of Oedipus Rex. 

A reference to the story of Oedipus and the Sphinx is extremely pregnant right now in the SPN narrative, for two reasons:

1) Fate vs Free Will

2) The Ghost of John Winchester

1) Fate vs Free Will

Dean thinks his interpretation of the book Billie handed him in 14x10 Nihilism - apparently the only death of his in which AU!Michael doesn’t take over his meat-suit and burn the world - means he has to sink himself to the bottom of the ocean, in the Ma’lak (angel) box and that’s “fate”. 

Like Oedipus, there is no escape. 

However, 14x12 tells us two things. Firstly, by analogy - the prophecy is wrong. Alvarez thinks he is carrying out the prophetic Word of God TM by recreating a twisted version of the Plagues of Egypt sent by God in Exodus:

1) The slaughter of a first-born son

2) Drowning in the Red Sea

3) Fire out of Heaven

(all of which are mirrors for what Dean thinks is his “fate” right now: death of a first born son; being drowned forever at the bottom of the ocean in the Ma’lak box; being consumed by the AU Archangel Michael’s Heavenly grace/fire).

But it’s a garbled message, received as a result of Prophet Donatello’s comatose scramblings. 

Secondly, screw prophecy - against the odds, Dr. Sexy of the Lord (yeah - you know Dean thought it) is able to revive Donatello, thus preventing further scramblings (aka wrong prophesies). 

CASTIEL: “Dean - if there is a spark, a hope, then I have to try.... you taught me that!” 

I loved that line, with its resonance all the way back, like a skein of blue grace, to the Apocalypse Mark One, when Dean convinced Castiel, in Zacharia’s (also due to return in 14x13 Lebanon) “green room” in 4x22 Lucifer Rising, to disobey Heaven for the sake of humanity (Yes, Dean, an angel did fall for you...). 

In other words, just as the Winchesters beat their “fate” to be “angel condoms” for Michael and Lucifer last time around, by “tearing up the script” and “making it up as they go” (4x22 Lucifer Rising) thanks to the help of rebel angel Castiel, so they can do so again.   

2) The Ghost of John Winchester

In the SPN world’s worst kept spoiler, we know John will return next week in 14x13 Lebanon. We’ve been meta’ing about the ghost of John Winchester haunting the SPN narrative for... forever.  

Here is some meta of mine on the subject from S12:

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/158388550099/john-winchesters-ghost-and-the-haunting-of-s12 

John is explicitly recalled, during the brothers’ (beautifully rendered) car conversation in 14x12:

DEAN: “You ever think about when we were kids?”

SAM: “Maybe, yeah, sure, sometimes, why?”

DEAN: “I know I wasn’t always the greatest brother to you.”

SAM: “Dean, you were the one who was always there for me. The only one. I mean, you practically raised me.”

DEAN: “I know things got dicey, you know with Dad, the way he was... and I just.... I didn’t always look out for you the way that I should of. I mean, I had my own stuff, y’know, and in order to keep the peace, it probably looked like I took his side quite a bit. Sometimes, when I was away, you know it wasn’t cos I just ran out, right? Dad would, he would send me away, when I really pissed him off. I think you knew that.”

SAM: “Man I left that behind a long time ago, I had to.”  

AU!Michael, I’ve been arguing since the start of the season, is a mirror for Dean’s self-repression and for John Winchester. See:

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/179463975289/shirtlesssammy-14x03the-scar-meta-writers

John was one of the major causes of Dean’s self-repression, as illustrated in the convo above, where it’s clear Dean had to grow up too fast to become a substitute-parent to Sam, where he was often obedient to their father to “keep the peace”, and where he was also often, unreasonably, punished by his father in the process (such as, as we already know, when he was sent to Sonny’s after stealing food for Sam in 9x07 Bad Boys). 

According to psychoanalysis, we always internalise psychological constructs of our parents - Freud calls them imagos. So the Riddle of the Sphinx, for Dean, is how to kill (or rather, lay to rest) the ghost of his father (whom AU! Michael is a mirror for) and with it, the self-repression which has wounded him so much, psychically, since childhood, without letting it kill him too.  

Nick, of course (general shudder) also serves as a John Winchester mirror in the episode - his obsessive revenge quest for the slaughter of his wife (aka mirror Mary Winchester) by Abraxas, led to something she never wanted - damage to innocents along the way (aka mirror innocents, Sam and Dean). 

To Conclude

The answer to the Sphinx’s riddle, the one that helped Oedipus avoid being devoured by her was.... humanity.

Light Sphinx, 2015-2016, Mixed media (inc. foam, hand stitched fabrics, LEDs, beads, synthetic hair), 74 x 32 x 54 cm by Tarryn Gill

https://tarryngill.com/Light-Sphinx-Shadow-Sphinx-2015-16 

Dean IS the symbolic representation of humanity (which is why Amara was so fascinated by him, and let’s not forget Metatron’s words about Castiel in 9x22 Stairway to Heaven  - “He’s in love with.... humanity”).  

Our first-born Winchester son just has to believe what this episode showed him -  prophecy can be wrong.

His “fate” - to die, to drown forever, to be consumed by holy grace/fire, to remain trapped by the ghost of his father, by his own self-repression, by AU!Michael, by the Ma’lak box (aka, in subtext, the closet) is NOT the “Word of God”.

And killing one’s father doesn’t (as it did for Oedipus) have to mean damnation, if, the way one does it, is symbolically, by laying his ghost to rest in one’s heart and mind (hello upcoming SPN 300 14x13 Lebanon).

Freud believed the resolution of the Oedipus complex (for boys) was identification with the father (and no, we don’t have to concur with Dr. Freud). Dean has actually been on an oppositve journey, to get out from under his father’s shadow.   

The Jungian solution, which the S14 narrative is offering to the metaphorical Riddle of the Sphinx, is, to turn around and embrace the Shadow-self (the parts of oneself one has repressed) and in so doing, to evolve - to become more fully human.

So, a final salute to Jerry Wanek and team, and the ever wonderful SPN set dressing narrative, for The Sphinx Machine shop!

NB:

You can read my Jungian Meta series here, if you’re interested:

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/180906003584/the-shadow-14x08

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/181122764984/14x09-the-spear-jungian-decoder-ring-edition

 http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/182299438269/jung-and-deans-journey-towards-self-integration

And if, you want to read more of my SPN meta in general, go visit my blog and look under the “Meta” sidebar tag: http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/tagged/Meta 

Plus, if you want to read lots of other people’s fabulous SPN meta, go check out the “SPN Meta” sidebar tag: http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/tagged/SPN%20Meta 

Thanks for having me @metafest !

DrSphinx out.  

[coldace24]

Twice Arcanum: Prologue

Twice Arcanum: Prologue

"Another dull night..." She frowned at the thought.

 Beneath the sea of stars sprawled across the vast night sky, just by the edge of town, she sat on top of the outer walls, isolated from the presence of townsfolk. Under her wide-brimmed hat, strands of purple hair brushed against her face, and her amethyst eyes reflected the gentle moonlight.

 With nothing to rid of her boredom, she closed her eyes and began to listen to the wind. The gentle breeze whispered in her ear, humming a melody of its own. She found herself almost falling into a trance, but was abruptly awoken by the sudden noise of steel clashing against each other. Her gaze turned towards the forest, a few hundred meters away from where she was.

 "Hmm, let's see..."

 The tattoo under her right eye began to glow, and streaks of purple light appeared, circling around her iris as it enhanced her view range like a telescope. Near the edge of the forest, she could make out three figures locked in combat with each other; one, who was of rather small stature, was holding its own against the other two. She focused her eye, letting it adjust to the darkness, and as it cleared, she realized that what she was looking at was, in fact, a man fighting against two brawny, armored trolls.

 A feeling of excitement had filled her, finally managing to find some amusement. She stood up and grabbed her spear, pointing it towards the direction of the ongoing battle. With the help of her right eye, she adjusted her grip and aimed at the trolls. Then, the air around her started to hiss; arcs of purple electricity formed, creating sparks that lashed out everywhere like violent whips. She began accumulating them at the tip of the blade, molding it into pure destructive energy. With a loud crackle, a bolt of lightning shot out, trailing towards the woods. From inside the forest came bellows of pain, after which, there was dead silence.

 The streaks of purple light faded, and the arcs of electricity dispersed, leaving bits of static discharges here and there. She gave a quick scan of her surroundings, just to be on the safe side, and with no abnormalities whatsoever, she tidied up her clothes, adjusted her hat, gave her spear a quick twirl, then jumped down the wall.

 "Guess this wasn't going to be a dull night after all." She grinned at the thought as she started running towards the forest.

  ° ° °

  He knew it was a bad idea, but he didn't realize it was THIS BAD of an idea. Leaving the town at night was his only choice, he couldn't tell his little sister he was taking on such a dangerous job; she'd definitely get mad at him, and he'd never hear the end of it.

 So then there he was, in the middle of the night, running away from two trolls who seemed like they had won the title of "World Muscle Contender" in whatever troll muscle building competition they had. Plus, they had chunks of metal strapped around their chests, not very fashionable, but hey, it did a pretty good job of making them harder to kill. So he decided: the quest was done for, no way was he risking his life to go against such unfair monsters. Definitely a good time to run.

 With his well-thought-out escape plan he'd only formed minutes ago, he thought for sure he'd lose them after scurrying around all over the place, but somehow, at every twist and turn he had made, the two consistently followed, as if they had a leash on him.

 It was only a matter of time before he ran out of energy; luckily, he had reached the edge of the forest. If he could just make it out past the trees, surely the trolls would stop following him; they never really did like leaving their forest, and for whatever reason that was, it wasn't really any of his concern. With all the energy he had left, he dashed towards the clearing. Unfortunately for him, one of the trolls jumped out from behind a tree and blocked his way, making him skid to a stop.

 "This...was truly a bad idea." He grumbled as he gripped the hilt of the sword at his waist. He didn't want to fight; firstly, because he wasn't as good with the sword as he'd like to think; and secondly, there were two huge enemies, and fighting them with a puny metal stick when they have rows of abs and steel platings was just plain unfair. As he was trying to determine his next move, the second of the two trolls jumped out behind him. Surprised as he was, he pulled out the sword and swung to the back. The steel blade grazed across the metal plate's surface, unleashing a loud, screeching noise, but leaving little to no visible scratches.

 There was an unusual pause, then came a grunt. Or was it a laugh? Whatever it was, one thing stayed true; the troll had ridiculed his sorry excuse for a strike. A sweatdrop fell from his forehead down to his cheek, and again, he thought of just how truly a bad idea this all was.

 Slowly, the troll raised its oversized club, and in the next moments, it was swinging down towards him. The club hit the ground hard, and dirt flew everywhere. Good thing he was able to roll aside fast enough, otherwise, it would have been his guts flying everywhere instead of dirt. But he didn't have time to be thankful, as the other troll, the one who had blocked his path, began swinging around its club too.

 The only thing he could do was dodge the incoming flurry of swings; sometimes hiding behind a tree, other times sliding between the two and getting them to hit each other, but it wasn't working. They were just too hard, even their own attacks bounced off at the combination of metal and muscle.

 Things seemed pretty bad; he was out of breath, and his body ached; the trolls didn't give him any chance to rest either. Fortunately, not all hope was lost; he had saved his trump card for last, and he knew it was time to use it. Sheathing back his sword, he put a bit of distance between himself and the two trolls, and out from the small pouch on his side, he pulled out a crystal; a roughly cut ruby about the size of a coin, and held it firmly on his hand.

 The two trolls walked slowly towards him, both raising their clubs and looking rather annoyed. Just as they were a few meters away, he held the crystal towards them, but before he could do anything, a flash of purple light appeared and his vision turned white. He covered his eyes with his arm, not knowing what had happened; all he could hear was a high-pitched hissing, drowning out the unrecognizable screams. Soon, the discordant noise stopped, and the light faded; what followed after were two hard thumps to the ground.

 ".....Am I...dead?" He reluctantly asked as he peeked under his arm.

  ° ° °

  ".....Hello...? Are you still alive...?"

 The trolls had turned into two crisp-burnt corpses laying motionless on the ground, but just to be on the safe side, he started poking at them with his sword; thankfully, there was no response. Somewhere along the blackened mass in front of him, something had glinted, and digging through, he managed to find a golden locket; one that was fancy-looking enough for a noble to wear, though now it was covered in soot. He held it up against the moonlight, its surface revealing an intricate design somehow resembling a familiar insignia.

 "That looks like it'd sell for a lot." Someone suddenly called out from behind him; the energetic voice of a female.

 As he turned to look, he found himself face-to-face with a girl; her round, amethyst eyes staring straight at him. She was close to his face, perhaps too close, and that made him unconsciously take a step back.

 "It would definitely sell for a lot, but I need it for something else." His gaze turned towards the corpses.

 "Were you the one who did that?" He asked as he pointed.

 "Mhmm." Her eyes scanned him from top to bottom as she slowly walked backwards.

 "You...look like a noble." She said, sounding somewhat displeased; perhaps she wasn't fond of nobles.

 As much as denying it would probably have been better, with the way he was dressed: a dark emerald vest over his white dress shirt, dark slacks, boots, and leather gloves; it was fairly hard to.

 "Well...yeah, I am...kind of."

 He placed the locket inside his pouch while giving the girl a quick, inspecting glance. There was one way to describe the girl, he figured, and it was very much associated to the color purple; her hair was purple, her clothes were purple, heck even her eyes were purple. Well, at least her hat's beige...although it does have a purple accent.

 "So tell me, why is a noble like you dancing around with these two muscle-heads?" She started poking the corpses with her spear. "Not to mention in their forest. Oh, and in the middle of the night too, might I add."

 "...A quest." He replied as he started to fix his soot-covered, brown hair.

 "Quest?" She sounded surprised. "Why would a noble be on a quest?"

 "I need money."

 "A noble...looking for money..?" She laughed, as if that was the funniest thing she'd heard the whole day. As much as he hated it, he expected at least that much of a reaction; a noble trying to earn money through quests was practically unheard of after all.

 "Look, I'm going back to the guild to get my reward. If you don't need anything else, I'll be on my way now." He started to walk towards town, feeling a bit irritated.

 "Hey, can I at least expect some form of thanks?" She asked, sounding a bit playful. He stopped in his tracks, letting out a sigh as he turned around.

 "...What do you want?" His tone sounded monotonous as he asked. She pranced towards him, humming an unfamiliar tune with a mischievous grin on her face.

 "A couple of drinks over at the tavern will do." She said with a wide smile and a pat to his back.

  ° ° °

  "I'm Kaleina, by the way. Nice to meet you uh..." She introduced herself, hand extended, as they sat at the local tavern. It was only under the lamp's light that he had noticed her long, pointed ears.

 "Cleras. A pleasure." He replied, reaching for a handshake. "Are you an elf?"

 Her eyebrows furrowed at the question. "Isn't that kind of obvious? I mean, you know, the ears and all."

 "Yeah...well you know, just to make sure." He shrugged. "It's not everyday I get to see an elf. Much less talk to one."

 "You make it sound like I'm some sort of exotic animal." She grumbled. Even though she meant it as a joke, he knew it was somehow true; elves were quite rare in human settlements, so being one was definitely attracting attention.

 "Anyway, I give you my thanks for actually agreeing." She motioned to the drinks on the table. He sighed, raising his hands up, as if surrendering to her demand.

 "Well, you did help me with the quest. Although I'm pretty sure I could have handled it fine by myself."

 "Hah! If I wasn't there, you would've been crushed to a pulp." She grinned as she downed a glass of ale. "Speaking of which, how much did you get?"

 "What do you mean?"

 "Money! I'm talking about money, Cleras! How much did you get?"

 "Oh. Just a little bit, I guess." His gaze shifted to the side.

 "...How much, exactly?"

 "Uhh....three thousand pliones...?"

 She stood up and slammed the table, moving towards his face as close as possible then grabbing him by the collar.

 "Three thousand?! For those two knuckleheads?!" Her eyes widened. "I could spend the whole week stuffing myself with that much! Unbelievable!"

 "H-hey, I had a hard time dealing with them, so they should be worth at least that much." He pulled his face away, just to get a little more distance between their noses. "But I guess it is kind of odd. I mean, the quest details said I'd get a thousand."

 "Tripled?! Why?!" Her eye started to unconsciously twitch.

 "S-Some girl was at the guild. They said she was the client, so I gave her the locket. Turns out she was the daughter of a noble."

 "And?"

 "When I gave it to her, she asked the guild to put in a little extra for my reward, and gave me two grand."

 "So the extra was from her?"

 "Y-yeah."

 "Tsk, figures." She remarked as she let go of him and went back to her seat, looking a bit irritated. "You sure are lucky, getting saved by me and getting extra on your pay."

 "W-Well, yeah, I'm grateful for that."

 "Guess that means I can order a few extra glasses, eh?" She had a mischievous smile on her face.

 "Actually, no. I need the extra. I'm trying to save up for something."

 "Meh, cheapskate." She pouted. "For a noble, you sure care a lot about money."

 "I have my own problems, you know. Problems that require money to be solved." His expression turned serious for a moment, then returned to normal as he watched a bored-looking Kaleina trying to muse herself with ale. "But well, I guess it can't hurt to spend a little more than usual. Don't order what you can't finish, alright?"

 "Yes!" She smiled then turned towards the counter. "Hey! Bring us your best batch of ale over here!"

 ° ° °

 "You're not going home?" She asked, a bit surprised. They were done drinking for the night, and as dawn was to come in a few hours, they decided it was time to hit the hay.

 "I snuck out to do the quest, and right now I'm too tired to even walk back home, much less sneak back in."

 "So what's your plan?"

 "I think I'll spend the night here at the tavern. You?"

 "Same." She burped as she replied. "Ugh, I think I drank too much."

  ° ° °

  "Are you sure you didn't plan this?" Kaleina asked with a look of doubt on her flushed face. They were inside one of the rooms at the tavern; cozy enough for a single night's rest, but what caught their attention was the room's single, large bed.

 "I swear, I didn't!" Cleras held his hands up in surrender. "They said they were fully booked tonight, and this was the only room available."

 She stared at him for quite a while, then decided it was pointless to argue. Upon reaching the bedside, she started to take off her clothes, leaving only her strapless bralette and her miniscule skirt on.

 "HEY HEY HEY, WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?!" Cleras shouted at her irresponsible action.

 "What? You can't expect me to sleep with all my clothes on." She argued as she climbed onto the bed.

 "But I'll be sleeping beside you!"

 "I don't care."

 He bit back his lip. Surely this girl was not serious, he thought. He stood there for a few moments, unable to decide whether or not to go along with her idea.

 "Oho. Don't tell me...are you inexperienced with these kinds of things?" She asked with a wide, mischievous smile on her face. He could do nothing but swallow, unable to give out any form of response.

 Kaleina stood up, pulling the blanket along as she slowly walked towards him. Now only inches apart, her hand reached out to his face, gently resting her palm against his cheek. Their eyes locked, and with a warm smile, she gave him the most seductive gaze.

 "Am I not good enough...?" She asked him with a sweet, tender voice. Her lips seemed so lush, like plump peaches ripe for the taking; it took everything he had just to stop himself from taking them for his own. The young man forcefully closed his eyes, trembling with nervousness at the possibility of where it all might lead to. Then, from Kaleina suddenly came a laugh. He opened his eyes only to find her wiping away tears from her eyes as she tried to contain her laughter.

 "I'm so sorry, I didn't think you'd be that nervous." She apologized, finally managing to catch her breath after laughing so much. The distraught noble glared at her, clearly irritated at her display.

 "Look, Cleras. I don't really mind if we sleep together in a single bed." She said as she let out a sigh. "We're just gonna sleep, you'll be fine."

 She walked back and climbed up the bed, and in response to her companion's concerns, she wrapped herself with the blanket and rolled over to one side, giving Cleras enough space to lie down. He could only sigh as he walked towards the bed, taking off his vest and boots, and settling down beside the elf. Although his thoughts were still cluttered from all that has happened, his body was undeniably exhausted, and in a matter of minutes, his eyes fell shut, and his vision darkened.

  ° ° °

  Pain shot up from his abdomen, instantly waking him from his sleep. He panicked for a second, thinking he was being attacked, until he saw a pale-skinned leg resting across his stomach. He turned to the elf beside him only to find her out of the blankets, now lying down horizontally across the bed, and still asleep.

 He pushed Kaleina's leg away as he tried to get out of the bed, somehow managing to wriggle out from under her limbs. As quietly as he could, he put on his vest and boots and slowly walked towards the door. A few feet away and a sudden thud stopped him in his tracks.

 "I-I'M AWAKE!!!" Kaleina shouted, her eyes only half open. She had fallen off the bed, and was now staring into space, looking a bit dazed. He tried to keep on walking, hoping she had not noticed him yet.

 "Oh, Cleras...it's you. Where are you off to so early in the morning?" She asked as she rubbed the sleepiness off her eyes.

 "Um...home...?"

 "Oh riiiight." She stood up and yawned, stretching out to get rid of the numbness in her body. He smiled at her, then turned towards the door, finally managing to reach and open it.

 "Wait!" Kaleina demanded as she hurriedly put her clothes on. "I'm coming with you!"

 His eyes widened at her statement; his face full of discontent and disbelief. She locked her arms around his, and smiled at him, enjoying the thought of tagging along. Cleras sighed, once again unable to escape from Kaleina's crazy whims.

  ° ° °

  "Tell me, why are you coming along again?" Cleras asked as he and Kaleina walked through the streets of Bowfort City, following the road towards his house.

 "Cause I'm bored." She said proudly with a smile. "Besides, I get free breakfast if I go there, right?"

 "Look, my place isn't some sort of charity where you get free food, okay?"

 "Oh come on, I'm a guest. There should at least be food for the guest, right?"

 "Don't you find it weird? Look, we only met yesterday, so I don't think we're well acquainted enough to be house visiting."

 "Oh, but we ARE aquainted enough. I mean, we did sleep together last night." She said as she gave Cleras a wink.

 "And sleep was ALL we did! Nothing else!" His voice raised a bit.

 Kaleina smiled as she ignored his statement, finding amusement in playing with her spear instead. The poor noble could only press his palm against his face in discontent.

 The previous mention of the word "sleep" caught his attention, only realizing something was off after the brief silence where he had time to think.

 "Say, Kaleina..." He started to ask her. "you went to sleep last night, right...?"

 "Yeah...?" She answered, sounding a bit suspicious. "....Did you do something to me?"

 "No, of course not." He refuted. "Look, I was just wondering... I thought elves didn't sleep. Don't you, like, meditate or something?"

 "...Oh." Her eyebrows furrowed a bit, then after an unusual pause, she continued. "Well, the right term for that is trance, actually. And yeah, they do that instead of sleep."

 "They..? You don't...?"

 "Nope." She moved her hands behind her back. "I like sleeping better than trance."

 "Why?"

 "Cause I get to dream when I'm sleeping, and that has to be the best part about it." She smiled as she talked. For a moment, her expression seemed full of sentiment, as if reminiscing something from the past.

 "Why do you ask?" She followed up.

 "Well, I've read some things about elves before, and well, you know, things just didn't add up and I started wondering."

 "...Hmm. You're surprisingly knowledgable, huh, Cleras."

 "...You make it sound like I was dimwitted before I asked." He turned to her only to find her sneaking a chuckle.

  ° ° °

  "Okay, so here's how I'll explain things." Said Cleras as he stopped in front of the gates to the manor and turned around to face her. "I woke up early to walk around town, only to bump into you, an old aquaintance of mine, and being the good man that I am, I asked you to join me for breakfast, alright?"

 "Mhmm."

 "Okay, good." He turned back and gave the gates a push. The black, iron bars swung open, and the two followed a path of grove that lead them to a mansion; one not as big as what Kaleina had in mind, but big enough to be called a manor.

 Cleras knocked on the large, oakwood double-doors; the echoes resounding within their vicinity. From inside, Kaleina could hear faint footsteps approaching, though Cleras didn't seem to notice; apparently, elven ears were more sensitive.

 "Who is it?" A feminine voice asked from the other side of the door.

 "It's me, Cleras."

 The doors slowly opened, swinging inside with a mild creak. As the manor's interior came into view, in front of them stood a young woman, most likely a maid as suggested by the clothes she wore, with brownish hair and hazel-colored eyes. She curtseyed and smiled as she gave them her greetings.

 "Welcome back, young master." She said, sounding formal yet also relaxed.

 "Thanks, Amilya." Cleras replied. The maid's eyes turned towards the purple-haired elf, then back to him.

 "She's Kaleina, an old friend I ran into on my morning stroll." He quickly stated as he getured towards Kaleina. "I invited her over for breakfast."

 "Hi." Kaleina waved at the maid in response to Cleras's introduction.

 "Welcome, Miss Kaleina." Amilya smiled at her, then gestured for the two to enter. She led the way with Cleras and Kaleina following behind her as they made their way towards the dining room. It was among the many doors found at the hallway; a wide room with a long table in the middle, able to cater at least twenty people. Amilya opened the door and ushered the two to their seats, with Cleras sitting at the head of the table, and Kaleina sitting just beside him.

 "You've become quite the man, spending the night with such a pretty girl." The maid stopped to lean beside Cleras, whispering in his ear as she served his tea. "Not to mention, she's an elf too."

 "W-what? No!" He stuttered. "I told you, we just happened to run into each other during my morning stroll."

 "Oh, please. I know you snuck out last night." She said with a smug look on her face. "And I can only infer that you spent the night together with Miss Kaleina, whom you came back with this morning. Isn't that right, Master Cleras?"

 From beside Cleras came a laugh; Kaleina had been quietly listening to their conversation and couldn't resist laughing as she heard Amilya's statement. The two stared at the elf as she sipped her cup of tea, unbeknownst to them that elven ears could hear their whispers.

 "Look, Amilya. Nothing happened between her and me, okay?" Cleras turned back to Amilya and continued to whisper; his eyebrows furrowed as he spoke. "I snuck out to do a quest, and I just happened to bump into her. I have no idea why she's following me around either."

 "I think I know why." She grinned. "But well, I'll just leave it at that. Prying too much would be rude after all."

 A sigh of relief came from Cleras, having much appreciated Amilya's decision to stop prying, although leaving her to her own imagination might not be so good either. In the next few minutes, Amilya along with other maids had served them breakfast; creamy stew coupled with loaves of bread, some cooked eggs and slices of meat, and a new batch of warm tea; upon finishing their duties, they left the room, with Amilya giving Cleras a mischievous wink as she closed the door. Kaleina's eyes shone as the appetizing food sat in front of her; the enticing scent giving her nose a tickle. Though she had expected nobles to eat in luxury, being able to experience it herself was something new. She turned to Cleras, as if asking for confirmation if she could start eating, which in turn made Cleras laugh. He nodded, gesturing for her to take the food, and without hesitation, she grabbed her utensils and started digging in.

 "Do you always eat this much for breakfast?" Kaleina asked.

 "No, actually. I think most of these were prepared for you. I mean, technically, you are a guest."

 "Well if that's the case, then I'm not holding back." She grinned as she started stuffing herself with every food on the table. Cleras calmly sipped his tea, observing the elf quietly, when she stopped and turned towards him again.

 "I've been wondering...what's this bitter stuff?" She asked as she pointed to the cup of tea beside her.

 "It's tea." Cleras replied.

 "Tea...? Sure tastes weird." She took another sip at it, her lips curving into a small smile as she set the cup down. "But well, I guess it is pretty nice too."

 The young noble couldn't help but smile. As much as he found this elf to be quite vexing, he's also been intrigued by her, wondering how she was so different from what he's read about elves. She was far from graceful, and neither was she calm and collected. The more he thought about it, the more confused he got, coming to notice that this elf beside him seemed more like one of the rowdy humans rather than the said dignified elves. Suddenly, the doors to the room opened, and Amilya entered, somehow walking a bit faster than usual, then stopping to lean towards Cleras's ear.

 "Miss Emeraude is awake." She whispered. "I've told her you are having breakfast with a guest, but she wishes to talk to you."

 Kaleina's ear twitched as she listened in on their conversation once again. The name Amilya had mentioned intrigued her, but she proceeded to eat quietly, as if not aware of what they were talking about.

 "I see." Cleras replied. "Have you prepared her breakfast?"

 "Of course."

 "That's good." The young noble finished his food and stood up. "I'll bring it to her then."

 "As you wish."

 He nodded to the elf, excusing himself from the table as he walked away and left the room, leaving Amilya and Kaleina with each other in awkward silence. The maid stood at the side of the room, her gaze upon the elven girl enjoying her meal.

 "Who's Miss Emeraude?" Kaleina suddenly asked, her purple eyes now staring at the young maid. Amilya was surprised, unsure of how the elf had learned the name. Perhaps she overheard their conversation, she thought, but surely she whispered as quietly as she could. She was silent for a bit, still in wonder as Kaleina waited for her answer.

 "...She's...the master's younger sister." She finally replied.

 "Sister, huh?" Kaleina took a bite off a slice of bread. "Does she not want to eat with me?"

 "Oh no, it's not like that." She shook her head. "Miss Emeraude is...her health isn't very good, so she stays in her bed most of the time."

 "Well that's good. Wait, no, I mean...not that kind of good, but...uhhh, you know what I mean."

 The maid chuckled at the elf's awkwardness, to whom in turn she started off a casual conversation with. As their talk went on, there came loud knocks on the front door. The two women stopped mid-conversation and stared at each other, then, Amilya curtseyed and headed off to check.

  ° ° °

  Cleras stopped in front of the door, his hands holding the sides of the silver tray with breakfast for his sister. He took a deep breath, then balanced the tray on one hand and knocked on the door.

 "Who is it?" A frail voice asked from the other side.

 "It's Cleras. I brought you breakfast."

 "Brother!" She exclaimed. "Of course, do come in."

 He opened the door with his free hand, swinging it inside to reveal a bright, sunlit room; the windows were fully opened, and a gentle breeze swept in. On one side was Emeraude, slowly sitting up on her bed with a smile on her face; her silver hair was combed neatly, and her blue eyes greeted him with frail cheerfulness. She wore her favorite pink pajamas, ones riddled with designs of flowers that Cleras had given to her as a gift for her birthday.

 "How are you feeling?" He asked as he sat beside Emeraude, gently setting the tray down on her lap.

 "Quite well, dear brother." She gave a bright smile. "Forgive me for selfishly asking you to see me when you have a guest."

 "It's alright." He gave her head a soft pat. "I wanted to see my lovely, little sister as soon as possible anyway."

 She smiled at her doting brother's words, feeling assured as she started to eat her breakfast. He loved his little sister, and he didn't want her to worry, for it was that sweet, innocent smile that Cleras wanted to protect, and that was why it was necessary to keep his side-job a secret.

 A knock on the door interrupted their conversation. Amilya entered the room with a brief greeting, then ushered in an old woman in white robes and spectacles.

 "I hope I'm not interrupting anything." The old lady said with a humble smile.

 "No, of course not. It's good to see you, Doctor." Cleras replied. "You're here for my sister's check-up?"

 "Yes, I am." She placed her suitcase on a nearby table and opened it, taking out her tools before getting to work. "I believe I might have figured things out, but I need to be sure."

 "I see."

 "Um, I hope you don't mind, young lad  but could you..." The doctor started to say.

 "Ah, yes, of course." Cleras replied as he stood up and headed for the door together with Amilya, slowly closing it behind them.

  ° ° °

  "Worried?" Asked the maid as she and Cleras patiently waited outside the room.

 "Honestly? Yes." His eyebrows furrowed upon replying.

 "It's going to be fine, Cleras." She placed her hand over his shoulder. "You've done so much to help. Even going as far as taking on dangerous quests to pay for her recovery."

 "I just hope it wasn't all for nothing." Anxiety showed on his face, fearing what might become of his treasured sibling.

 Moments later, the creaking sound of the door as it slowly opened made their heads turn. The doctor poked half her body out and gestured for them to enter. Cleras turned a quick glance at Amilya, to which she returned with a smile then proceeded inside.

 "How is she, Doctor?" Cleras asked as he entered the room and sat beside Emeraude, giving her a soft pat on the head.

 "I'm afraid my intuition was right." The doctor said with a sigh as she sat down on the foot of the bed.

 There was a brief silence, followed by uneasy glances between Cleras and Amilya. The old lady held out her hand, sitting on top of it was a Stethosphere, a chunk of clear crystal, smooth and round in shape, that helps doctors in detecting and diagnosing illnesses. She handed it over to Emeraude, gently nodding as the little girl held it between her hands.

 "Now dear, if you don't mind..." She raised her hand towards the orb, and soon after, it started to glow a gentle azure, the color of her mana. "Your turn, dear."

 The azure was joined by a fickle streak of silver, and soon they were intertwined, swirling together, but never really mixing. For a while there was harmony between the colors, then the silver light started increasing in volume, flowing out erratically and unpredictably.

 Crack!

 The doctor quickly pulled the orb out of her hands, shutting off the lights that illuminated the room a little while ago. Emeraude was breathing heavily, much to her brother's dismay, who seemed nervous and panicked as he wiped the sweat across her face.

 "Doc, what the heck was that!?" His voiced raised quite a bit, as the worry destroyed his usual calm demeanor.

 "That, young man, was an overflow of mana." The old lady replied with a grim expression. "A common symptom, but on a grander scale. So far greater than I've ever seen."

 She held up the Stethosphere, on its surface was a large crack, spanning across half its side. Cleras's eyes widened, shocked because of the outcome, and because he realized he had to pay for the now broken tool.

 "I've never come across something so bizarre. The flow of mana from her is unnatural, like it's leaking out of her body in different places. Then, when it finds a stable outlet, it blasts full on like a water out of a hose." She stood and walked towards her bag, taking out a weathered book amongst its many pockets then returned to her seat.

 "Fortunately, this book holds records of it." She turns it by a few pages, then hands it over to Cleras.

 ".....Ephysma...?" He read aloud the word in bold letters. "...a rare illness akin to a curse that disrupts the flow of mana inside a living being, causing it to leak in great amounts..."

 A curse? His eyes darted towards Emeraude, then back to the book, sweat dropping across his face.

 "...symptoms include leaking of mana, lack of stamina, and disheveled breathing." The lump forming in his throat made it harder to speak, but he continued on reading.

 "Only three cases have been encountered so far, the initial two concluding with complete depletion of mana, thus leading to...death..." The words rung in his head, air almost leaving the entirety of his lungs. His excessive sweating and pale face caught the attention of his sister, who, even as she heard of her condition, was more worried of her brother.

 "Big brother...are you alright?" She asked as she held his arm.

 "I-I'm....fine..." He spoke in-between gasps of air. After regaining his normal breathing pattern, he continued.

 "...fortunately, the third case concluded with successful recovery." His eyes lit up as he subsequently read, a small glint of hope adding color to his expression.

 "The treatment was successfully carried out through regaining lost mana via potions, and with the consumption of a brewed concoction..." A huge sigh escaped his lips, thankful that there was at least a known solution.

 "Don't stop yet, young man." The old lady had her eyebrows furrowed as she urged him to continue.

 "... a brewed concoction, made by... brewing Alcea Rosa in tonic. The only difficulty in procurement of said cure was that Alcea Rosa is an extremely rare herb, known to grow wild in the plains of Lithania..." His voice trailed off at the mention of the word. The Kingdom of Lithania, kingdom of the elves, far off to the west across the land, far from the borders of their own kingdom. Needless to say, no human was allowed entry lest they be emissaries of the throne. What's more, they barely had enough money to send someone on such a long way. The journey itself would take a few weeks at least, and there was no guarantee they'd be able to reason their way inside the gates, much less get access to an extremely rare herb.

 There was silence in the room, the unease settling slowly with each quiet breath. No one wanted to say anything, no one wanted to break the ice, or at least no one in the room, that is.

 "I could help you get it." A familiar voice came from behind the door. For a good while, they all glanced at each other, before Cleras finally approached and swung it open, staring face-to-face with the purple-haired elf and her mischievous grin.

 "Kaleina...why are you here?" His eyebrows furrowed at the sight of the elf, positively bothered by her action. Ignoring his inquiry, she walked past him, heading straight into the room where everyone was, struting playfully with a smile on her face.

  ° ° °

  "Emeraude, Doc, this is Kaleina. She's... an aquaintance of mine." Cleras introduced the young elf to his sister and the old doctor.

 "A pleasure to meet you, Miss Kaleina." The awe in the little girl's tone was evident. "It's my first time meeting an elf. You look very pretty."

 "Thank you." She smiled. "It's nice to meet you too. Oh, and of course you too, Doc."

 "How long were you out there?" Cleras had a dubious look on his face.

 "Oh, quite a while actually. I kind of heard everything."

 "It's rude to eavesdrop, you know." The irritation in his tone was prominent.

 "It's also rude to leave your guest all alone." She retorted with a smug look on her face, much to the noble's dismay.

 "I'd like to offer you my services." She turned towards Emeraude, performing a little curtsey with her skirt tails.

 "What do you mean, Miss Kaleina?" Emeraude's eyes were glued to Kaleina's ears, perhaps still amazed at the sight of an elf's long and pointy instruments of hearing.

 "Seeing as the place you wish to go is located in elven territory, I'm sure I could be of help in securing a way inside the kingdom...I think." She gives Cleras a pat on the back. "Me and Cleras could go to Lithania and get that whatcha-call-it for you."

 "Wait, I thought you were offering YOUR services? Why am I coming too?" He exclaimed, surprised yet again by Kaleina's remarks.

 "Come on, Cleras...would you really just leave this to me, on my own?" Her brow was cocked as she asked, daring him to say yes. "...especially when it's so important?"

 Her eyes darted towards the young lady, flashing a smile as their gazes met.

 "Well, no...but I can't just leave my sister." He was anxious, even more so now that he understood the depths of his sister's illness.

 "I'm gonna need your help if you want this to work. Traveling solo is never a good thing, not with these kinds of situations." She shook her head, her eyes locked onto his.

 Cleras couldn't answer; there was too much at stake, and too little reassurance. How can she expect him to completely trust her just like that? They've only known each other for a day, literally.

 In the midst of the brief silence, Emeraude breathed out a heavy sigh. She turned towards her brother, eyes filled with worry, but steeled with courage.

 "She's right, Brother. You can't just let a lady go to such dangerous places alone." She crossed her arms, trying to appear angry, but her expression betrayed her. "And don't worry...I'll be fine. Amilya is still here with me. And doc will be visiting me from time to time, right?"

 The old lady nodded, her wrinkled face showing a vibrant smile. "I'll be here to check up on her and make sure she has enough supply of mana."

 "...But I-"

 "Come now, brother. I've grown up enough to be fine if you're away." She placed her hands on her hips. "I trust you...so come back home safe and sound with that herb. Then, once I'm healed, we can finally travel around together, okay?"

 He could only nod at her, unable to look her in the eyes. The shackles that held him back were removed, replaced by the weight of responsibilty and success.

 "And Miss Kaleina..." The young girl turned towards the elf, looking straight into her amethyst eyes. "...thank you for lending us your help. My brother...he's a handful and gets into a lot of trouble, but please... take care of him."

 "Of course." She smiled.

  ° ° °

  Phwip!

 He'd finished packing the things he'd need for the journey; food, a change of clothes, crystals, and a few hundred pliones. Of course, he'd left most of money to make sure the people in the manor would have enough to get by during his absence. He could simply earn some on their way, doing quests at the guilds in passing villages. As he slung the pack behind his back, Kaleina entered the room, waving two of her fingers in the air in greeting.

 "Hey." She greeted nonchalantly.

 He could only nod, still unsure whether doing this was the right decision. Maybe it would have been best to just hire someone else. Someone more capable. He shook the thought away. Emeraude had trusted him with this, he had to. No way would he leave Emeraude's fate in someone else's hands. But are my hands good enough?

 Suddenly, there was a loud snap and pain shot up on his back, the sensation of a hard slap. He turned to the elf beside him, irritation clearly planted on his face.

 "There, that's better." She gave him a smile. "No need to sweat over things, we'll be fine."

 "...I hope so." A heavy sigh escaped his mouth.

 "You know, me and your sister were talking a little while ago, just before I came here. She seems to trust you a lot."

 "Yeah...well, we're the only family we have left. Of course we trust each other."

 She shook her head, disagreeing to his statement. "I don't think it's simply because of that."

 "What do you mean?"

 "Hm...well, for one, she knew about you sneaking out at night to do quests." She gave out a hearty chuckle as she spoiled the secret.

 "What!? She knew?" His surprise came out louder than expected.

 "Mhm. But she never told you or reprimanded you for it, because she knew you were doing it for her."

 "..."

 "When she knew...she was afraid. She thought 'What if he never comes back?' ....but then you always did." She snapped her fingers as she pointed to him. "Maybe that's why she trusts you so much...because she knows you'll always come back to her."

 "..."

 "Cleras, are you crying?"

 "I'm not. Shut up."

 She could only laugh at his cute display of emotion, getting more and more intrigued by this so called "noble". A noble that was stingy, who let a stranger join him for breakfast, a noble...who'd go to great lengths to save his sister. She was perplexed...perhaps her notions of nobles were wrong...perhaps...there was more to it than what she previously thought. She swatted the thought away, just before the dreaded flashes of the past could surface again.

 From the corner of her eye, she noticed Cleras picking up a bottle filled with sparkling blue liquid, a sweet scent coming off from the small hole on its cap. Perfume? Is he insane???

 She grabbed the bottle before he could spray, slamming it down on the table as she glared at the visibly surprised noble.

 "Are you insane!?" Her words were coated with disbelief at Cleras's irresponsible action.

 "W-what?"

 "This is exactly why you were chased around by those trolls!" She pointed to the perfume. "What, you think monsters can't smell you? They'd get a whiff of your scent from a mile away with this!"

 "...oh." It finally dawned on him. "So that's why..."

 "...now I'm the one having doubts..." Kaleina planted her palm on her face in dismay.

  ° ° °

  "Miss Kaleina." Emeraude had called the elf girl's attention. They stood just outside the mansion doors, with everyone wishing the two good luck on their journey. "Are you sure you need no payment?"

 "Nope." She smiled at the young lady. "Let's just say it's a thank you for that delicious breakfast."

 "I see. But perhaps you'd like to take something? Perhaps just a little compensation of sorts?" The young lady seemed to insist. Kaleina couldn't help but laugh, realizing how the awkwardness of these siblings are so much alike.

 "Well, if we're talking about compensation..." Emeraude's eyes seemed to light up from Kaleina's words. "I already have one. After all...I'll be taking your brother with me."

 Kaleina gave her a little wink as she grabbed Cleras by the arm, resting her head on his shoulder. Emeraude froze, her expression still the same, but the light in her eyes had gone dull, the geniune smile now looking forced, plastered on her pale face.

 "Th-that's...!!!" she finally managed to speak, although unable to finish her sentence. With a pout, she turned to her brother, her eyes squinting at their display of familiarity.

 "Brother, you better keep your hands to yourself!!!" She had her hands on her hips. "If I ever hear about you laying a hand on Miss Kaleina, you'll be very sorry, GOT IT!?"

 Cleras was surprised, unsure of what was going on as his attention returned from deep thought. Without hesitation, he nodded vigorously, taking notice of Emeraude's fuming expression. "Y-yes, of course!"

 A chorus of laughs came from everyone else, much to the young noble's surprise. As everyone settled down, Amilya approached to whisper in Emeraude's ear, handing her a box around the size of her hand. The young lady smiled, a mix of pride and sadness in her eyes as she took it.

 "Brother..." Emeraude approached him, her hands extended with the box on top. "Please, take this along with you."

 She opened it, revealing a silver necklace with a cross pendant, on its center was a beautifully cut emerald, resting perfectly between the grooves. His eyes widened at the sight of the jewel.

 "It was father's gift to me before he disappeared." The young lady picked it up and placed it on her brother's hand. "I want you to take it."

 "Emeraude, I can't."

 "Yes, you can." She smiled. "Keep it safe for me...and make sure you come home to bring it back, okay? Safe and sound."

 "...alright. I promise." The necklace sat on his chest, tucked inside his shirt where it was perfectly safe. His eyes seemed more determined now, more than ever.

 "Take care, you two." Emeraude held back her tears as she waved. "I'll be waiting..."

 Waving goodbye, the two finally set off on their journey. The young lady stood there, her silver hair flowing with the soft breeze as she watched their backs grow smaller and smaller, until they were no longer in sight. With hope in her heart, she prayed for their safe journey and sound return.

 "Goodbye..."

  [Prologue End]

 CREDITS:

Kaleina is owned by RiceGnat

Follow him on twitter [R-18]: @ricegnat https://twitter.com/ricegnat

[riskeith]

hii!

manifesting xiao for you!!!!! it surely will be worth it after all that wait and all those rolls shsjdhsj <3 you’ll probably upgrade him and his weapons and talents and all that right away too, huh? spilling all your recourses on one stotic lil boy 👅 (can’t say i blame ya he deserves it) FUNNY YOU MENTION THAT when i did the guiding light seal puzzle before the stormterror battle i accidentally forgot to change kaeya’s weapon to the ones i’ve upgraded so he was stuck with the dull sword and i was like why the FUCK doesn’t he do any damage and then it hit me . yikes 😬 Lmao has that ever happened to you?

oh really? reading all of that makes it seem like we’re in the bad end of the stick dhdhdjdjfh but you made me curious to try it out tbh... now where could i get a hold on a pc..... hm

yeah omg you’ve gotten so far now i can’t imagine how bizarre it would be to revert back to giving like 10 dmg and facing level 3 villains lmao still sometimes even i find myself missing the early days things weren’t as stressful then ): do you?

school did start which is why haikyuu is perfect!! it’s been keeping me very warm and happy tbh... 🥺 you know something i noticed this time watching is that kagehina are Always around each other. i honestly don’t remember them doing that but watching now it’s like at almost every scene they are either standing next to each other or showing up to the other’s scene and it’s like??? damn???? y’all live like this? idk if that changes in future eps but right now it’s Constant. i love it.

dude i’m such a nostalgia person i’m always up for a trip to the good ol’ days bc sometimes you just gotta go back to things for your own sake. but fun Fact i started watching voltron after it ended so i missed so much of the hype while it was ongoing.. literally came into it while it was a goddamn mess. i knew that klance wouldn’t be canon but watching i couldn’t help but hope... how was it stanning while it was ongoing?

(you saying that reminds me of the what if we kissed meme..... what if we kissed in the genshin co-op mode 😳 anyway you’re at such a high level idk how much i could help you... i suppose we could just run around but yeah i do play in europe... 😭)

RED AND BLUE GAYS!!!!!! RED AND BLUE GAYS!!!!!!!!!!!!!! the purple light were mega gay like hello????? especially since lance is bi and it was Him that said the line and hfjdhdhsjdjdhdj fuck ! i’m so sad now ever since we started talking about them i’ve just been missing them sooooo much it’s crazy... KEITH DESERVES THE UNIVERSE he’s so sweet and caring in his own way and he grew so much like compare s8 keith with s1 keith and see!!!! he matured so much and god . at least he’s helping the galaxy with his lesbians now

dude i wanted to say that but i was scared it was an unpopular opinion.... hunk and pidge could be so mean to him sometimes for no reason or just shoo him aside and no??? don’t do that to your friend????? it irked me sometimes bc you could see that he got upset about it but he felt like he had no one to turn to 😭😭😭😭😭 kms but keith. keith is good.

THE I LOVE YOU SCENE did it also take you sooo much by surprise like i remember watching and just going AAAAAA??????!!!??!!?? and the art???? mister anime keith kogane?????? it was so beautiful and so perfect and so sad ughhhhhhh funny how keith has 2 out of the three i love you scenes on voltron even tho he’s the stotic type .

i’m thinking but honestly all i want is some fluffy angst... a punch in the gut with some final kissing . i love fics that rewrite the sunset scene always chefs kiss... or you know how in season 7 for some reason they always called out for each other first? like when lance has his crashing scene keith yells out lance come in twice??? or when they are stuck in the galra prison and they yell out each other’s names???? idk something about that would be amazing to read???? ok i rambled idk rewritten canon klance is just Mwah... OH IM SO EXCITED TO READ THOSE SNIPPETS EEEEEEE :DDDDDD TY FOR SENDING THAT

i’m soooo glad you liked the fanart when i saw it i HAD to send it your way... it’s the little bois in their animal hats 😭😭🥺 i love them so much it’s soooooo cute 😭😭 i’ve been stalking the original tweet and there’s some other version and they’re super adorable too 😭😭😭😭😭😭

hope you had a wonderful day today + yesterday... take care <333

hey heyyyy~

actually i don’t think i have many resources to give him bc im focusing on levelling up my team for the ascension rn FJKHDSKFHSDKJFHSDK but for sure i will do it... anything for him 😩 AHAHAH nooooo but yes ! during the chalk prince dragon event i used festering desire in dragonspine but my higher levelled sword everywhere else, but sometiems i forgot to switch back and was stuck with shit damage 💀

yeah actually i see a lot of poeple complain about not being able to do missions on mobile either (or having a really hard time with it) fskjhfksj but there are for sure people who would think mobile is better so 🤷‍♀️ to each their own! ahah does anyone in your family have a windows laptop/pc? steal borrow it 🤪

i definitely miss the easier days!! it’s fun going to an area with lower level enemies bc i defeat them so easily.. but then again their drops also aren’t as good so you trade one thing for another i guess lol

ikr?!?!?? like we get it you’re inseparable omg.. it’s so cute when they go seek out asahi as well and hinata hides behind kageyama and then points and at him like he’s showing him off.. lives in my mind rent free 😌

oh i see!!! that’s so brave of you omg you knew all that and still decided to give it a shot? fshfkdsjf. it was. insane. like talking about the positives only, it was just everyone going crazy every time there was a single hint of klance is canon king and just ugh. it was all so exciting and hype and like the energy you know?? especially when there were conventions where they were revealing trailers or new info wow tumblr was buzzing.. (reminds me of when klance was top ship.......) i miss that kinda environment tbh! but also now that i’m in uni i don’t think i’d have the energy to keep up fhskfjds

(WHAT IF WE KISSED!! IN GENSHIN CO-OP!! HAHA JK... UNLESS?! that’s so funny fskdj but i wish 😔😩 makes a second reroll account just for this? HAHAAH. and noooo even if we didn’t do anything i feel like it’d be so fun just running around hfkdsjs. and maybe i could carry you w your quests it’s always been my dream to help someone out like my brother can just come into my world and one-shot enemies 😩 but maybe some day!! cross-server will happen)

:((((((((((( S1 KEITH AND S8 KEITH THE GROWTH AND DEVELOPMENT 😭😭😭😭 keith went from being a lone wolf expelled from the garrison to finding his MOTHER!! AND THE BESTEST SPACE WOLF DOGGO!! AND LEADING A FKN ITNERGALACTIC ORGANISATION!~!!!eASKJDHSAFHEHFSDIUHSAZODUQWEQWYRHIASKJDNCSOUADHB. marmora!keith............. both a blessing and a curse.... but that uniform tho 🥵

i cried!!! so much watching that scene lmao!!! can’t remember how i felt at the time but i was probably also surpirsed.. and ikr? that’s poetry in its own tbh we love that keith said the most ‘expressive’ and ‘emotional’ lines the most

sunset scene... sunset scene!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! omg yeah them just calling out for each other’s names first like??? explain please?? omg also remember when keith chose lance in the quiz.. AND LANCE CALLED KEITH THE FUTURE? FUCKING EXPLAIN???????? WHAT THE FUCK!!!!! there is no heterosexual explanation. okay but now that you’ve put sunset scene in my head... either rewrite where lance was looking for keith to confess to him bc they were going back to space and he wanted to get it out or.. in the future where klance are together and lance has a dream about it and suddenly realises wait. did keith already like me back then. and then they talk about it ... hmmmmm . AND WOOOO NO PROBLEM!! HOPE YOU ENJOY <33

i def have to look at the other versions!!! honestly this meme is kinda the best thing out there rn so many cute baby renditions of charas.. blessed!! i love them all sm...

thank you!! hope yours have been great too, and school is treating you well :**

[eorzean-gents-blog]

A Comrade

Perhaps characteristically, Claisent had found a seat in the corner of the tavern; the better to ensure that he could only be approached from the front. A soldier’s habit, to be certain. His gleaming red greatsword, entrusted to him what felt like half a lifetime ago by Kosetsu, sat propped against the wall on his right, within easy reach.

“Momone. Thank you for coming on such short notice.”

The blonde Lalafell tottered over from the doorway, still wearing yesterday’s scale mail armour, cloak sweeping almost dramatically around her.

“It’s alright! I’ll admit, I was a little surprised you called for me. Still – how can I help?”

“I… have a confession to make.” Claisent’s expression was solemn. “And a rather dangerous plan I’m about to set in motion. Things will get… delicate. I need someone on side who I can trust to get a job done.”

“Ah… Y-yes, of course!” Momone looked curious, but unperturbed. “Is… this something I can confide in Kosetsu, or is it… extra delicate?”

“Kosetsu’s help will be appreciated, but I need a lighter touch, first and foremost…” Claisent trailed off, looked askance. “…I suppose I should start from the beginning, if you’re to understand what I wish to ask of you.” Momone nodded, walked around the Elezen to sit beside him. She took a moment to divest herself of her shield and scabbard belt, setting both upon the wall beside her seat before turning her attention fully to Claisent.

"...This quest I've been pursuing, since before I left the Kindred. I've been hunting a Halonic Inquisitor who's been continuing his own private Dragonsong War. He's been rooting out suspected heretics even outside of Coerthas, putting them to the sword or the torch without any talk of trial."

Momone stared wide-eyed. "Wh- but how? The... isn't Ishgard forming into a republic, now? Especially with the controversy in what was the Holy See?"

"He couldn't care less. The man's on a crusade - he has no intention of forgiving people he considers to have betrayed the church... Point is, he's discovered that I'm onto him. And he's taken a particular interest, since he's the reason I fled Coerthas in the first place... I too was a heretic." Claisent let that confession sit for a moment. "I was young. Shocked and frightened by the war. Taken in by the promises and propaganda."

Momone looked almost equally uncertain how to process this revelation. She looked down and away; remained pensive for a time. At last, she opened her mouth.

“What changed?”

"The Inquisitor. Elvaut Subier is his name. I had fallen in with a large unit that answered to Lady Iceheart. Made our encampment in the depths of the highlands. Somehow, Subier found us. He didn't just want us dead. He wanted us to destroy each other. Wanted to punish us for our sins, in his own way. So when he led his Temple Knights to destroy the camp one bloody morning, he planted a letter on one of the corpses.

“That letter framed me as an informant, who had gone turncoat and given away the camp's location in exchange for leniency. Clearly, he meant for it to be found by any survivors, to set them against me, and me against them. It worked. I was out on patrol that morning, with six others. Among them, an up and coming young leader... Avenne. A woman I'd very much come to admire. To love."

Claisent paused. Melancholy chiselled furrows into his face. "When we got back, we found a killing field. The tents were trampled and burned, supplies looted or destroyed. Bodies in fucking piles, from one end of the camp to the other. Avenne... she lost good friends. Lost a sister, somewhere in that carnage. She... found the letter first. Showed it to the others... Gods, the way their faces twisted as they read it. I had to snatch it from them just to find out why they were suddenly screaming accusations at me. 'Murderer.' 'Traitor.'"

Momone looked for all the world like what she was being told was only now beginning to make sense. Deep sadness pulled at her expression. “Even in war, that’s… gods, it’s terrible. So cruel…”

“Before I’d even finished reading,” Claisent continued, “Eauglant had drawn his sword and run shrieking at me. The others followed... Mad with grief. With rage. They fell for Subier's bait without a second thought... I just... I had to defend myself." His voice quavered, though he didn’t appear to have noticed. He stared unfocused at the far wall. Momone pulled her gaze away and frowned, a mask of anger giving way to sympathy, sadness.

“…I’m…. I’m so sorry, Claisent.”

Claisent closed his eyes. He collected himself enough to manage a shallow nod of acknowledgement and thanks.

"...When it was over, I took the letter, gathered what provisions I could, and ran. There was naught left for me there... far too many bodies to bury. The beasts and the snow would claim them… I abandoned the war. Both sides wanted my head. Both had lost my loyalty. I struck south and wandered. Collected myself. Tried to decide what I would do. I found myself in Ul'dah... found my way to the hall of the Kindred."

Momone gave a slow nod. “And that’s where we met you…”

“Aye. Damn well saved me. Gave me something new to fight for – something real.”

Momone looked at the floor again. "It's... difficult for me to know what is right in all of this. ... maybe, it's easier because I'm not of Ishgard. But... the Ishgardians and the Dravanians fought for... so long. You..." She pulled her head up. "...Before you lost your friends, I'd guess you fought and killed your share of Ishgardians, too?"

"...Aye, my share. Saw them as the enemy - all of us converts had come to see them as the enemy."

"...So... for the Ishgardian Inquisition to retaliate during that time was... the nature of war." She sighed and folded her arms. "...But too cruel... even in war, there's a certain code of conduct, but..." She looked back up to Claisent. "...You say he continued - that he's been continuing, after the peace?"

"He has. In his fanatic mind, heretics don't deserve peace. They deserve to be rooted out and destroyed, wherever he may find them. And he's not alone - plenty of fundamentalists opposed Ser Aymeric's rise to power, and still oppose the ongoing changes." At that, Momone’s lips pursed sharply; clearly displeased by that prospect rather than resigned to some horror of war. "Well... in those terms, it's simpler to decide what is just. If he's continued, despite peace, and in the name of the Holy See or the Church... then he needs to be stopped.” She canted her head at Claisent. "...But, this is about revenge for you first, is it not?"

"...I won't lie. My reasons for wanting his head on a spike are very personal. But he has a lot of support - Temple Knights who answer to him, clergymen and nobles who offer his cause their support under the table."

Momone arched a disbelieving eyebrow. "Is there no evidence with which to accuse this man, or his followers, and bring him to justice? ... even in the Holy See, there is a judiciary!"

Claisent gave a shrug. "Were he just one man, I'd take his head and be done with it. But I can't be certain how deep this bloody conspiracy has dug its roots. If I'm going to stop him and his supporters both, I need to drag the whole thing into the light... Which brings me, at last, to the reason I'm telling you all of this.

"I've been compiling evidence, slowly and surely, through my own investigation. Locations, material finds, names of priests and citizens with connections to Subier and his little splinter cell of Temple Knights. But like I said, Subier has found out that I'm onto him. If he moves against me, he'll do it fast and hard - won't give me a chance to make any clever plays. So I... wish for you to do it for me, if you're willing to lend me your aid.”

“M-me?!”

Claisent thumbed his greatsword. “Here’s what I want you to do. I've kept my dossier of evidence in a safe place, and I’ll be leaving the sword there tonight. If you have a map of the Black Shroud on you, I'll mark the location. Over the next few weeks, you may hear these words over your linkpearl: 'raise up the righteous.' If you hear that signal, or if I simply drop out of contact altogether, you'll know that I've been found out. Go to my drop point immediately, and uncover the dossier.

“Reach out to Kosetsu if you hear the signal, and explain to her while you recover the documents. Have her take the sword - if there's any chance you may be able to find me and help me, I'll like have need of a good weapon."

Momone patted through her belongings while Claisent spoke. She eventually reached a pouch at her back from which she produced a roll of several sheets of parchment. From among those, she brought a map of the Black Shroud to the fore, offered it to Claisent; he produced a stick of black chalk to mark a spot familiar to the Lalafell with a small cross. ”I… This is all so cloak and dagger.” She looked worriedly up at Claisent. “How… will we know where to find you? If at all? And what am I to do with what you leave at this drop point?”

"Make all haste to Ishgard. Take the dossier to the Tribunal, and present it as proof of Subier's plot. He'll think he has me at his mercy - he won't expect me to have struck the death blow from elsewhere."

Momone’s expression was yet full of questions. "I- I'm sorry, I just walk into the Tribunal? Without an appointment? What if you're not there? And will they even speak with a-a foreigner?"

“They'll have to. Unless every man in the building is in Subier's pocket already, they can't argue with hard evidence. Besides, you'll have Kosetsu with you - I guarantee she won't take no for an answer."

"W-well, yes, but... you still haven't said what we do if you're not there!” Momone protested. “W-we'll need to rescue you first!"

Claisent looked away, pursed his lips. “…That part, I’m not certain of yet.”

This simple response caught Momone quite off guard. A lengthy silence passed; she stared at him in fearful wonder.

“…You value seeing this man fall more than your own life, don’t you?”

Claisent found himself staring at the far wall again. His expression was almost flat, and he spoke at first without pomp or gravity when he opened his mouth to answer.” Frankly, he might just end me on the spot. He might want to take his time and enjoy having finally gotten the better of me. I don't care. My first love and my best friends went to their deaths believing me guilty of a betrayal I didn't commit. I have to bring the truth to light. Whatever it takes.”

“Claisent…” Momone’s voice bore a note of deep sadness.

“Momone… Only you and Kosetsu can see this through for me, true and strong as you are. I dare not ask it of anyone else. If it costs me my life, I'll know I've left the rest in the best hands…” Quite suddenly, he leaned forward off his chair to kneel before his Lalafellin companion. “I beg of you. Help me put a stop to this fanatic.”

Momone near recoiled in surprise, gazing at the Elezen. “I…” Caught off guard by his sudden earnestness, a faint flush filled her cheeks. She took a moment to compose herself, gave a nod. “I-I will. This is the sort of wrong a Free Paladin is meant to set right.” Her face set into a more solemn expression, and she gave another, decisive nod. “I promise.”

The worry on Claisent’s face was washed away by relief. “Thank you. Thank you.”

“Do… are you going to have another weapon with you? Where are you going, exactly?”

“To continue my investigation, in Ishgard proper.” The Elezen climbed to regain his seat. “If I can find any other way to strengthen my case against Subier, I’d be a fool not to. All of this… this is just me taking precautions in case he strikes first.”

Momone looked back down at the marked map. “…Will we have enough right now, in case he…?”

Claisent nodded. “It’s… pretty damning, taken on its face. What's important is that it implicates a host of people other than him. Key members of his support in the city, fundamentalists who quietly champion his cause."

Momone nodded along. "If his support is as deep as you say, then... yes, one would need to bring them to light, too." She began to roll the maps back up to stow them away in their pouch. “Raise up the righteous,” she murmured to herself, then looked up at Claisent. He caught her eye, managed a smile for a moment, then turned away. He pressed his eyes shut, frowning apologetically.

“…I’m sorry, Momone. It… it’s not fair of me to drop all of this on you at once. I just… I’m not sure where else to turn.”

Momone pivoted in her chair to fully face the Elezen. "Oh, there's no reason to be sad. It's... These sorts of things are what I think I've always been meant to do." She mustered her characteristic sunny smile. “…May I tell you a story, in kind?”

Claisent couldn’t help but crack a smile of his own at the infectious cheer on Momone’s face. “Of course.”

“All my life, the only thing I ever wanted to be was Sultansworn: to be the embodiment of the knights of old, protecting the House of Thorne - and later Ul, of course. I trained as hard as I could... joined the Immortal Flames... and even saw Carteneau before I took my trials, and my oaths, and became a paladin.” She kept up her smile. "Three cycles afterwards, I resigned - and begged Papashan's leave to walk as a Free Paladin. And do you want to know the reason why?"

Claisent’s face fell so hard, he almost had to physically reach to keep his jaw off the floor. This cheery little knight was at Carteneau?!

“…Why?”

"Because I realised that there were people out there who needed a paladin more than Her Grace did. Someone to stand beside them, and with them, through all their trials and their weakest moments - even if they're normally very strong." Melancholy briefly crossed her face. "I... still carry regret over breaking that vow; something I pray Thal, Halone, and the others of the Twelve will grant forgiveness when my time comes. But nevertheless: with the help of Kosetsu, and many other friends, I came to that conclusion."

Her sunny smile returned. "...I believe I was meant to help bear the burdens of others when they need it most. And if they truly need me, and are just, then I will."

Claisent felt a thoroughly genuine smile having fixed itself upon his face after hearing Momone out. Awash with new admiration, he gazed into her warm, resolute eyes. “…You’re truly a formidable woman, Momone.”

She raised a hand to wave away the compliment. "N-not really! Just always trying to give things my best. Anyroad... Do not lament confiding in me something deeply personal and painful. ... I am grateful, actually!"

Claisent nodded. "...I do feel a little better. It's... weighed on me so heavily, all this time."

“Have you not had many people to speak to about it?”

“You’re… what, the fourth person to have heard the full story. Naturally, it’s… not something I’ve wished to wear on my sleeve.”

“Yes, I-I suppose I can understand. Still – thank you for confiding in me.”

Another nod from the Elezen. “…I hold out hope that things in Ishgard will get better.”

“So do I… Is there anything else that I ought to know before you set out?”

“…Come armed. Mayhap you’ll catch me at the Tribunal; mayhap you’ll have to search for me. Either way, don’t expect me to be handed over without a fight.”

Momone gave a resolute nod. “I understand. We’ll… come ready for the worst, then.” She hopped off her seat, set about fastening her scabbard belt about her, fetched her shield. Likewise, Claisent stood and retrieved his greatsword. The Lalafell craned her head up to look at her companion, nearly three times her height. “…I wish you luck, Clai. I’ll pray that Halone will watch over you, especially.”

“…Likewise, Momone. Worst comes to worst, you’ll have a battle ahead – but I wouldn’t want to be the poor sod who tries to keep you and Kosetsu from me.”

Momone nodded enthusiastically. “Kosetsu is nothing if not determined! …And the same goes for me, too, I suppose. After all – I made a promise now! I can’t go back on that.” That sunny smile remained; Claisent smiled in kind.

“Truly, I couldn’t be in safer hands.”

The deadbolt clanked loudly; the heavy cell door creaked open. Two Temple Knights, hidden behind their featureless helms, marched into the dank room. From his spot in the corner, Claisent raised his head to sneer up at them, blinking blearily to look past the blood that caked his face. The knights stooped over, grabbed him by the arms, hauled him to his feet. Subier appeared in the doorway; the knights shoved Claisent forward, still holding him.

“It’s time,” he declared, sounding thoroughly pleased with himself.

“For what?” Claisent deadpanned.

“Your trial, of course!” Subier sounded almost excited. “Since you’re my prisoner, it wouldn’t do for you to simply disappear. So you’ll be brought before the Tribunal. You will answer for your crimes against Halone there.” He strode forward, swung a sudden hooking punch. The knights released Claisent as he reeled beneath the blow, let him sink to a knee. He raised his hands defensively across his head in the instant before he was pulled back to his feet.

“This could not have been more overdue,” Subier sneered. His excitement was gone; his voice dripped with fresh malice. Claisent only smiled defiantly.

“The Tribunal?” he repeated. “Of course you realise I’m going to fight.

“Raise up the righteous and cast down the wicked, and all that.”