As the Cazenax finished scurrying up the side of the Blue Adam, he flopped onto the deck with the grace of a man stumbling on a couple of wines and gasped for air. He looked upward only to find his stubby snout graced with the kiss of a flintlock.
"Fancy seein’ your mug here, you greasy little nutsack." Zast looked up to see a blonde pretty-boy pointing the gun. With such a well-maintained hairdo and billowy shirt amid a fight, the Cazenax thought the man had a higher chance of trying to take him to bed than actually shooting him. But that wasn't exclusive to this one, it was the same thing for most Yasoi playing pirates. "Remember me?"
Around the ship, all the other pirates seem occupied with the present battle and while a few paid the exchange a passing glance, it was a one-on-one. Zast stood up straight to his impressive height less than half that of the blonde and watched the flintlock get clutched just a little tighter. Zast squinted trying to see if the Yasoi's face would spark any bells in the recesses of his booze-addled memories.
"Anthal!" Zast smiled dubiously in the vague memory he screwed him over a few years back. "I barely recognized ya there. Boy, how you’ve grow-"
”We’re the same age.” Anthal interrupted as he levelled the gun further into the goblin’s forehead. "I never got the chance to get you back for taking my money and leaving me for dead. So, you have the coin to cover my payback?”
Zast chuckled awkwardly. Didn’t seem like there was much getting around of this one. "Well I can’t say I have it on me. But if you ask a certain bartender in Belzagg, I’m sure he’ll give you a couple‘a almonds under the table if you ask nicely." He grinned, at least he could go out on a classy note.
"Hold it, Junior." The captain, who Zast knew to be John Adam, had finally paid the exchange some mind and saved him from a bullet to the head. "Leave this one to me."
Anthal, with some hesitation, released the flintlock and stepped back looking annoyed. Zast smiled at him, trying to get a rise out of the Yasoi but it was to no success.
Anthal'alan'tormiiyei, or John Adam as recognized by Zast, was an upgraded blueprint of his son. With age and experience lining his features, he exuded confidence and even smiled down his nose at the Cazenax. It was a strangely positive reception given the circumstances Although Zast supposed the main difference there was he hadn’t rinsed this man of every cent like his son.
"Cazenax, I can see you dress like us, you steal like us, do you consider yourself a pirate?" His voice carried an air of high purpose and morals, Zast loved those kinds of people. "I believe that these waters, like any other seas, belong to no one but those who can take it. Perhaps you see the world as I do?"
"Cawuio-Zast." He introduced himself and took a cigar out of his coat pocket and lit it as if it had never seen water. "We’re in the same trade, Mr Adam. The seas, no, nothing on this earth can be owned by a person. The world should belong to the free and that’s that."
The captain didn’t respond to ‘Mr Adam’ too kindly but overlooked it. He knelt to get eye level with the Cazenax but was looking down at him. "Then we are allies in this fight. Across the waters, the Virangish seek to steal from the wreck while hiding behind a false sense of legality." He spat on the ground. "At least we’ll be the honest ones on the seas."
"Help us and we’ll share the loot. Deal?"
"Deal."
Zast received a blue scarf from the captain so that the crew would recognise him as an ally. He wrapped the scarf around his head as a bandana.
Sanette, a young tethered woman, called the captain over with a sense of urgency. A look of worry painted her, but Zast couldn’t stay to listen in.
It was time to get to work on the ship.
"I’m here as a representative of Ersand’Enise!" Zast announced. "The school is giving you all their full support and as such I have a present here, courtesy of High Zeno Silvestri." The Cazenax placed his jacket on the deck, then swiped it up to reveal an entire gunpowder barrel and a stack of cannonballs. This fight would not end under Zast’s watch.
The captain heard this announcement and shot the little green charlatan a wry smile. Sure, this Cawuio-Zast figure was a liar. But that didn’t matter right now. He could spout mistruths until the sun broke. He was useful as long as he believed in the cause and supplied munitions toward it.
Raffie’s attempts to bring caution to the Virangish ship by name-dropping Ren caused a bit of hesitation among some of the sailors. But when the first volley of cannon fire hit the Altın Oğul it rocked with the sounds of shattered wood. It was a powerful and unforgiving hit that saw a couple of sailors falling off the side only to be devoured by threshers. The name Ren Baykara had caused some hesitation, but they didn’t hesitate after that. The pirates weren’t going to stop at that name and if they were to stop, then there wouldn’t be a ship left for the famed Virang noble to board.
Once he was on board, Ren’s warning to the pirates also fell on deaf ears. Across the way, he could see the scoundrels loading up for a second volley. The engagement had not been kind to the Virangish flagship and a couple of kinetic mages on the other side of the conflict had seen the Blue Adam taking far less damage. The backup and coordination from the other pirate ships had seen the Virangish fleet no longer having the numbers advantage. To make things worse, all on board the Altın Oğul could feel a slow and steady decline. The ship was sinking after the first volley, but this didn’t mean a concluded battle yet.
"Binders! Get below deck and get us floating again." Metin Çelik, Captain of the Altın Oğul, barked orders while making his way toward the students. After such an unfavourable exchange, some sailors paid the captain some glances expecting the order for a disengagement. The binders were effective but not world-class by any means, they would need time to repair the hull and get the water out. This would be time they wouldn’t have if they were to suffer another volley from the Blue Adam. But no order of retreat came, instead they were called to prepare another volley. The first and second mates carried out the orders.
Even with a lack of experience in naval warfare, Raffie could see that this conflict was going to get ugly. Scanning the waters, she could see that most of the other students had gotten out of the way and were heading toward the shore of Pelolia. Looking back toward Ren, it didn’t seem as though he had taken any notice of this.
"What the hell are you doing!?" Balik reprimanded a young sailor while holding him by the collar. The swabbie seemed pale and stumbled over himself, he was too inexperienced to be useful in a fight like this and it showed. Balik sighed and pointed toward Raffie. "Tend to the pink one and stay out of the way."
It may have been anyone’s first inclination to take a girl like Raffie to safety. But with such a magnificent display, she had shown herself capable beyond what first impressions would dictate. The swabbie approached and gave her a salute (where one was not required). "Anything you need, ma'am?" The boy looked only a little older than her but was generally unimpressive. He likely wasn’t a mage and this was likely his first time seeing any conflict at all. Even Raffie could deduce that he was at the bottom of the totem pole on this ship.
"Ren Baykara." The captain shook the noble’s hand. "Seems Vashdal has brought us favour in this fight. I was a guest at your plantations in Palapar a couple of years back. If you are even half as impressive of a mage as you are in your work, I couldn’t imagine someone I would want more at our backs. Shall we send these pyrate dogs to the depths?"
Ren didn’t need abundant knowledge of naval conflicts to know the situation. He only needed to know people and the captain told the exact direction of this fight. Honest eyes betrayed the lies he wished to tell Ren and himself.
The captain had spoken in a way that Ren knew intimately well. It was the final burst of pride in a man gave before he submitted to the leash. A moment where the mind could see a situation for what it is and recognise inevitable defeat, but the heart could simply not allow it.
The difference, of course, is that this man was a brave son of Virang and would never see a collar. Instead, a loss to simple pirates would result in the disgrace of a well-distinguished military career. But they made for similar looks indeed. Ren could deduce that the captain had foreseen a losing battle before the noble's arrival and doubted their chances still with Ren present. What a disappointing lack of faith.
- Raffie has the chance to flee toward the other students and join them if she wishes. This will not be a kind battle and she can see that. See also has the choice of whether or not to tell Ren about where the other students are heading.
The cannons still roared in the distance as a second volley fired. The sounds echoed over the water as they reached the islands of Pelolia to the west. While some of the cannonballs strayed dangerously close before harmlessly splashing into the water, the students of Ersand’Enise were safe for the time being. At least from the battle they had landed in.
Now that the other pirate ships had caught up with the Blue Adam, it had become an all-out war a short distance from the wreck. Maura’s calls for Zast to negotiate the pirate’s withdrawal had fallen on deaf ears. Whether or not the Cazenax had even communicated such a message was a guessing game. The ships of the Royal Asper Salvage Co. had certainly shown no sign of retreat either. In the absence of diplomacy, the conflict had blossomed and it looked as though it was going to get worse before it got better. Much worse.
Those more focused on the waters would notice that the Nikanese and Tarlonese ships were ready some distance away. They didn’t draw closer to the conflict but maintained their distance. They hovered like vultures waiting to pick at the bones left behind.
The students were not alone on the island. Along the shoreline, wakas lay on the beach, each big enough to hold roughly 20 people. Ship upon ship built with sturdy wood, twin sails unfurled, and the odd cannon mounted awkwardly to a vessel not designed to accommodate one. This did not appear to be a league of fishing ships. It was a naval force big enough to dwarf any other in the current conflict and only a few meters push away from the water. And yet they sat there, unattended and passive, apathetic to the nearby turmoil.
The sounds of not-so-distant conversation whisked their way through the sparse jungle line and the flicker of firelight could just be seen peering out between the gaps.
Mahal had taken the initiative and was the first to go further in from the shore. However, it was only a moment into the endeavour that she noticed she was being watched. A young girl wearing clothing native to the region was peeking out at her from behind a tree. The two locked eyes for only a second before the girl took off running toward the campfires beyond.
Whether Mahal decided to follow the girl, remain where she was, or go back to the group, it didn’t take long before a fighting force came back from the same direction to confront her. They drove her back to the shore where they found the rest of the students.
A young man stood at the head of the Moata Suva warriors. He was handsome and likely only a few years older than most of the students. Although he carried himself like a practised warrior, there was an equal display of a boy puffing out his chest to appear more formidable, unlike the older warriors at his call. They looked surprised to see a group so young in front of them.
"You don’t strike me as pirates. Who are you and what are you doing here?" While the group of warriors didn’t look hostile, they were prepared for a fight if one were to break out.
The students of Ersand’Enise were able to communicate their position in the conflict and diffuse the situation. At the end of their explanation, the warriors were more disarmed and open to negotiation.
"Students of Ersand’Enise…" The young man considered the situation. "My name is Tamatoa, Prince of Moatu Suva." He made a far friendlier introduction than before. "My father has made camp not too far from here. If you have interest in the wreck, I would ask that some of you join us first and share words with him." It was a friendly invite, although no one got the impression they were being given the option to decline.
The prince was an unseasoned diplomat and wasn’t able to hide a frown when he spotted Kaureerah. "I will have to insist that the Eeaiko comes with us as well." He spoke with a notably less friendly tone.
Before leaving, he gestured toward the Maura’s crates and the beginnings of the submarine with a curious look. "Whatever you’ve got building here, it doesn’t look good. I would ask that you put it together behind the treeline. Otherwise, it could cause problems for both of us if someone out there were to spot it."
Prince Tamatoa and his entourage lead the students through to the camp he mentioned. With some cultural variations, most could recognise this as a military encampment. Most of them were warriors, some looked to be workers who maintained the camp such as cooks, and a sparse number of women and children looked to be neither.
Much like the boats though, the people seem battle-ready in everything but action. At present, they were sitting on the ground around the numerous bonfires and eating dinner. Some told jokes to each other, some focused on their meal, and only a few of the younger warriors seemed to be anticipating a conflict with some excitement. The cannon fire exchange between the pirates and Virangish ships could still be heard from here, even over the commotion. One could only conclude that they were waiting on something else before they acted, they weren’t expecting it soon but were ready for it, whatever it may be.
At the head of the camp, King Kaleo III was not hard to miss. He and his family were only slightly elevated from the rest of the camp by a short wooden stage, but his mountainous form had him a head above most others. He seemed to be in a good mood, talking among the other decorated warriors at his fire. Next to him sat Queen Kanani, who didn’t look to be a warrior but kept up in equal parts with her husband in conversation. Beside her sat Princess Leilani who seemed to shy away from it all. And finally, the young girl whom Mahal had seen earlier was Princess Tiare. She sat on the other side of her father but carried a level of excitement that could see her shoot away again at any second.
Walking through the camp, Kaureerah would pick up on a few glances going her way. Could they be looks of suspicion? Hostility? It was difficult to tell. But it didn’t make her feel welcome, even if the group was being given the courtesy of a prince’s escort.
- Some students will need to hold an audience with the king. This doesn’t need to be all the students. Kaureerah, while not being strong-armed, is not being given much choice unless she puts up significant resistance.
- If you wish to use it, the submarine will still need to be put together. This will be under the watch of some guards who won’t allow it to see the water unless King Kaleo allows it.
- You may overhear some of the younger warriors, joined by Prince Tamatoa, talking about the wreck. They seem to be excited for a fight and annoyed at sitting around.
By the end of this cycle, the group ideally would have formed a plan and will be at the start of executing on it.
Afterword
The running of this mission has been handed over to me from Force. I would like to address two things:
1 I have approximately zero knowledge of maritime history or combat. The initial post had a lot of detailed and considered descriptions of ship combat. I will not be able to do this.
2 This is my first time running a mission. While I have Foodie more or less advising me on things, I am the captain of this ship and it may not be the smoothest ride as a result.
For the above reasons, I ask for some degree of patience and leeway as I may make mistakes. Let's have fun with this mission and see it to a good conclusion!
Cawuio-Zast caught the flash of a blue pirate flag before plunging into the seas. Blue Adam. Below the water's surface, he felt the shakes of cannon fire let loose and was taken by an odd calm despite the circumstances. What might appear strange to others, he felt at home in the midst of conflict on the seas.
Without any discussion with the rest of the team, the Cazenax began swimming toward the lead pirate ship. Coming back up, he took a big whiff of the gunpowder smoke on the water. If Zast were an educated man, he may have been able to put his feelings into words like so: Today, like any other day, is the crucible in which I risk my life to dance with Lady Eshiran. Not out of respect, but because it is a necessity of life. Knowing that my continuous survival is justification enough for my existence and the rewards that come from risk will be pleasurable beyond what gold can provide. But a wide toothy grin would have to suffice for now.
The Cazenax were a desert people, not many found the need to learn swimming before that need found them. How many elders would see a Cazenax find the water and drown? Seven thousand? Eight thousand? Nine thousand? Nine thousand nine hundred and ninety nine? Well if they got around to seeing Cawuio-Zast, they would see a Cazenax swim for the first time. For he was that one in ten thousand Cazenax daring enough to take to the seas, he was that Cazenax brave (and stupid) enough to continuously risk his life on the open ocean with the humans. These measly waves meant nothing to him, all that mattered was the payout when he survived and won.
The reward offered in this mission could set a person up for life if they played their cards right. So what could he achieve if he blew it all in a week? That was a matter for when he alone emerged the victor in this conflict (along with those who picked the winning side like him).
“Make sure they withdraw!” Maura shouted after the Cazenax. He had reached the ship and begun climbing by this point. In reply, he looked back with a smile and a thumbs up. But the Cazenax's smile was anything but kind or comforting in appearance. It could be taken as either reassuring or anything but.
Leon did carry much hesitation in exchanging the letter with Ayla. He noted that the letter had been sent out by the same person, which raised an eyebrow in the performer given the curious and indirect method it was delivered. "Ayla, if you don't mind me asking, how did you come across your letter?" He spoke quietly to her, but not so quietly that a nearby interested party couldn't listen in.
Ayla raised an eyebrow toward Leon, trying to understand his meaning. “How did you come across the letter?” She tugged on his sleeve, her voice lowered as she whispered to him. “The courier handed it to me, of course?”
Leon followed her wordless suggestion for secrecy. "Well, I got the letter given to me by a female fan. I had initially thought it would be a letter confessing her love to me, using a letter in substitute for words that nerves could never allow to be spoken... ... And I would politely decline it of course," he felt the need to add matter-of-factly. "Anyway, it seems a curious delivery method for our mutual friend to use."
Leon's attention was caught by Roslyn who seems to be watching him and Ayla's exchange. He gestured over for her to join and whispered. "Is there anything strange on your letter too, Roslyn?" As he asked that, he did sneak a look at Ciro and Trypano, particularly Trypano. Wondering how they reacted to their exchange.
Roslyn had tried not to eavesdrop, but her efforts failed. When she spotted Leon beckoning her over, she moved closer and nodded. She considered how much to reveal as she spoke.
"A bit. First, it arrived with my family's shipment rather than courier. It mentioned my ship and then some privateers being... obligated to work with the Marquis." As she offered her letter for Leon to look at, her eyes darted briefly toward Ciro.
Leon couldn't help but twist in some part scepticism and some part offence as he read Roslyn's letter. Even more than Ayla's, the intent of this one differed from his own. "It seems our mutual friend is quite the plotter as well..." He whispered back.
Where it had been a sneaky look before, Leon outright looked over to Ciro and Trypano before turning back. "Thank you Roslyn." With a smile he handed the letter back.
Ayla nudged Leon in the side, as he didn't offer to share the letter's contents with her and looked toward him expectantly
"Oh, yes, my bad." Leon replied with a chuckle. "I do think it's best we all share our letters. How thoughtless of me."
Ciro, having turned to head out, twisted back. "Ah!" he exclaimed, "I thought I could feel someone burning a hole in the back of my shirt with their gaze." He pivoted fully. "How fitting that it should be the Sun himself." His smile was easy enough, but his words gave away a degree of annoyance. "So perhaps it is this that you look for?" He strode back over and extracted the letter carefully from his satchel. "I should expect that you are not one of those to whom this refers. Dare I say our dear count is a touch paranoid." After briefly taking the measure of Leon, he handed it over. "I do wonder what yours holds as well."
Leon didn't hesitate to hand Ciro the letter with an easy smile, the merchant was not the one in the group he distrusted after all. "Of course."
Before the performer knew it, a simple exchange with Ayla had become a big sharing of letters among the group save Trypano. In some calculating sense, Leon had turned it into a measure of figuring out who he could trust, and whose hidden motives he would need to keep an eye on. The results of such a test were… unsurprising.
From the exchange of letters, Leon could conclude one thing. The same person wrote a letter to everyone and each seemed purpose written to the student. Roslyn’s letter in particular turned his stomach because its intent and tone differed greatly from the one he received. He shouldn’t trust the emotions communicated to him in his letter. Even the tear stains could be crocodile tears.
“It would be important for us to make a positive impression with the authorities here, especially when it comes to discussions with the Sovereign Pact-aligned members. We have a mutual goal in mind, so it is a good opportunity to work together. Though, there is potential for things to come apart quickly if we don’t account for the human factor,” she remarked, referring to people with their own agendas who might attempt to derail things.
Leon listened to Ayla's plan as he noticed a shadow flickering over him from above. He looked up, shielding his eyes from the sun above, and watched Ayla’s Froabas soaring above. He thought of his Harlequin Kite, Luminosa, and how her collection had been put on hold because of the mission. He had only come to realise recently how much he missed her.
Ayla flashed Leon a playful smile. “That is when we need your smooth talking to help us out.”
As she finished her talk and addressed Leon directly, he brought his focus back down to the rest of the group and smiled back at the girl. Even if he was a little distracted, he had been listening. He gave a playfully exaggerated bow in response. "I would be happy to oblige. I'm sure I could win us a few friends before the festival starts. And even more after it's done." He joked.
His eyes wandered off "I could be of use at the encampment, so I'll start there." His curiosity was caught by a young Mezegol nobleman going in between tents.
Leon stuck around for a following discussion and sharing of skills, then made his way over to the tents. He inspected the lyre as he approached to be sure it was tuned up and ready for playing. The grace of Ipte-Zept's Lyre had healing properties, but he would like to think that the music itself also helped. Somewhere along the way, he was sure to draw the young nobleman's attention too.
"I'm guessing we're all meeting up at the festive later? Do we meet back here or somewhere else?"
Leon pivoted on his heel while walking away to answer and keep his pace backwards in a half-waltz. "I, for one, intend to enjoy the festival to the fullest." He called with a smile. "We fight tomorrow, so why not enjoy today? But you can find me if you need me, I don't exactly blend into a crowd." And with that, he spun back around again and was off.
Leon had spent a good half hour playing delicate, calming songs with the Lyre of Ipte-Zept around the encampment. As he played, he left a trail of soldiers suddenly cured of their diseases and on the gradual path to recovery. It didn't outright cure wounds, but it seemed to help on that front as well.
He had made his way toward the tent where the noble was. Raimy was his name, or at least from what he had heard, and he seemed dedicated to healing the sick and wounded. It was a noble goal that was ironically ignored by many nobles. Why would this young man risk his health for people that weren't even his own?
Concluding another song, Leon thought it would be best to take a break. What fortune that the soldier Raimy was healing had suddenly stopped coughing and was miraculously recovered. It would give the two boys a seat on the now-empty medical stretcher.
"It’s a strange sight to see a noble in a medical tent." Leon remarked, offering Raimy to sit with him. "I don't know why you are so dedicated, but I assume it has something to do with forbidden love." He continued with a feigned knowing smile.
The green slough slicked off their wounds. Clear liquid dripped from their skin that only to congeal with the slough into a mass on the bedding and floor. It quivered for a few moments, ever pulsating at times, only to then lose all structure. Slipping back to just green murky water. Whatever the disease was, it was dispelled by the lyre but it was no ordinary disease, anyone could see that.
Upon second inspection, Leon decided it was perhaps best they both stand. His lip was turned up somewhat by the disgusting byproduct of the disease. He was no medical expert, but he was certain the human body didn't produce that.
Raimy looked at the man who played his song and watched him do what he had struggled with for the last week.
Whatever face he had watching, either awe or jealousy, faded to small relief. "Wouldn't it be stranger for a binder to not to be working in the medical tent?" Raimy answered back, “And who might you be?” giving some pause to inspect the lyre that had just been used.
When Raimy addressed him, Leon took a little offence that the noble didn't know him already. But he hid it well and looked forward to it on second thought. It was rare for the performer to talk to someone without the weight of reputation influencing the exchange. Seeing that Raimy was looking at the lyre, Leon handed it to him for a closer look. "And yet, so many noble binders keep themselves absent from places like this. Don't get me wrong, I respect you for your efforts, but you have piqued my curiosity."
"My name is Leon Solaire, I'm somewhat of a famed performer but you can call me friend." He went to shake his hand.
The noble took the item in with much care, quickly inspecting and seeing much beauty in it. If he was less sane, he would poster it to be the Lyre of Ipte-Zept but there was no way this random man could have it. He handed it back with no fuss. “Well that may be true for most with noble blood though I'm sure even they would be here to increase the odds just a little before tomorrow.”
There was judgement from Raimy, the man spurring him on to call him friend wasn't much appreciated. Still, “A friend in rough waters is the best friend you can have,” Raimy shook Leon's hand with a smile.
Leon took back the lyre and held it to his side; he needed a break from playing. Some may think playing is effortless, but it is a trick on the performer's end to make it look so.
"So it's worry that brought you down here then? Concern that we may not have enough people?" He questioned, trying to get a read on his company. "I wouldn't worry. Tomorrow will be a success, I will guarantee it." The performer expressed with sheer confidence that came off oddly comforting and egotistical in equal parts, especially to someone who didn't know him. "But I would like to continue healing regardless. It's the right thing to do; that and I would hate to see your generosity be rewarded with an outbreak."
“The White Thresher is a beast like any other," Raimy packed up his unused bandages and started to clear the stench with the gift. He knew his healing was no equal for Leon's in this case.
Raimy shook his head in disbelief, “I thank you for your confidence my friend, truly," Raimy slapped a hand onto Leon's shoulder, “But's let's keep ourself realistic. The beast has been cornered more than once in the past and yet it still draws water. Might you be the difference Leon?"
"If this beast has haunted your people until today, then tomorrow will be the day that changes." Leon laid a hand on the boys shoulder in turn. "I would like to think myself to be one who makes difference, but even then I won't be alone in this endeavor. I would like to consider that extra assurance of our success." With that he started preparing the lyre for another song.
Raimy made his way to exit the tent, "I thank you for healing them, find me at the festival when you have a chance. Perhaps you can even perform, Sun King." Raimy repeated the whispers he heard from the injured.
Leon waved goodbye back to Raimy. "Yes, I wasn't going to say anything, but it's best you clean up before the festival starts." He laughed light-heartedly gesturing toward the noble's dirtied clothes. "I'll be sure to catch up with you then and treat your people to the best performance I can give. You have a beautiful city, I would like to make a name for myself for when I return in more fortunate times." He gave a wink as he saw Raimy out the door.
Leon gave a bow to the audience of sick and injured. "And I would like to see all your lovely faces at the festival as well," he called. "So let's try to recover as best we can." He resumed playing.
Later on, he inquired the nurses about the strange disease caught by the sailors. He found out that the infirm had all been in the turmoiling in the water during the White Thresher’s attack. He couldn’t get more out of the nurses and he didn’t search further as to details that would be lost on him. Leon was not the most educated in medical studies after all. But one message was clear, the waters carried danger around the White Thresher. He would be sure to tell the others when he saw them next, Central Alliance and Sovereign Pact alike.
Leon was out in the mercantile district having an outfit tailored. He had been awfully busy as of late. The trials and revolution had raised his profile even higher in Ersand’Enise; it seemed there was never the time in the day to deal with it all. It was a welcome return to form that the performer hadn’t experienced since he had left the city of mages. Places to be, people to see, Leon lived for it.
Even the Yasoi refugee crisis had seen the performer in higher demand. After all, who would perform at the charity galas? He loved those things, even enough to get entirely new outfits tailored for them. You always needed to look your best to play the game of charitable nobles right.
A level of cunning was employed when dealing with the rich and charitable. Sure, you could get up on stage and preach the virtues of helping the downtrodden and sick. That would get a few extra pennies in the bucket. But whisper in a noble’s ear that Signore Annusatore di Culo just donated twice what they did, and they will bend over backwards to prove themselves more virtuous. Leon couldn’t sell the idea of helping the refugees because most truthfully didn’t care. But they do like the idea that ‘Saviour of the Yasoi’ would be inscribed on their tombs if they gave the most. The game was to have them leave the event having given far more than they intended; it was incredibly fun and he was good at it too.
Everything was going right for Leon Solaire. Almost.
Lately he had noticed a nagging feeling that something was missing. It was easy enough to hide those thoughts behind conversation and crowds. But in the quieter moments, like getting measured up for a new costume, it bugged him. It would surely go away if he kept focusing on the path ahead, right? It brought him untold happiness before; he just needed to remember that and carry on.
“Leon Solaire! Leon Solaaaiiiree!” A voice came from the entrance of the store, followed by the sounds of someone hurriedly approaching the performer. Hearing the voice, Leon’s face lit up with a smile as he turned toward the entrance. Only to be disappointed at seeing a human girl. He felt silly for giving that much of a reaction, her Revidian accent wasn’t even close to who he thought it was. He focused on maintaining the smile as she reached him.
Leon recognized her face. During the revolution, she was one of the Revidian students he convinced to join the fight and she told him her name after the fact. It was Arianna… Or Aria. It was one of those two at least. Ariadne? No, definitely not that. He raised his arms almost without prompt as the tailor went to measure his upper chest. “Ari, it's good to see you again. Even if you did get me at an awkward moment. I… don’t mean to be rude, but I hope it's important.”
The girl didn’t seem to mind the improvised nickname given to her. “Oh, it is, Leon. Have a look.” Ari hurriedly placed a notice in Leon’s hand to which the performer quickly looked it over. It contained the details of a colossal, raging, white thresher. One that had claimed many lives out at sea and one that would likely continue until stopped.
“... you weren’t kidding,” Leon said. “I’m glad you let me know. We ought to get ourselves signed up then.”
There was a look of embarrassment on Ari’s face that told Leon she wasn’t going. It was clear she had given him the notice expecting him to do that service in her place. After all, it was a dangerous mission, it's not as though just any student could sign up for it. It was a matter of who was brave enough to accept, and he wasn't about to disappoint.
“Or… I’ll make sure to remember who told me about the mission when we come back successful. It wouldn't be a party without them.” Leon continued, trying to cheer her up.
“I’m sure you’ll do Revidia proud,” Ari remarked with enthusiasm.
Leon tried not to wince at the Revidia comment and he let out a nervous chuckle. “Yeah, something like that,” he responded, trying to tone down the nationalist tone as much as possible; he didn't like it, and his tailor was Belzaggic.
Leon was looking forward to a few months of diplomacy and performance in peace. But the Sun King was to be more than just a pretty face and that required accolades. At least it helped him to know that he was doing the right thing. The beast needed to be stopped one way or another before it could take more lives. If they could all work together, it surely wouldn’t be difficult…
Cawiuo-Zast looked up to listen to the conversation. That idiot Silvestri couldn’t even recognise him in his devious disguise as Coze-Zast. The fool, the fool of fools, he didn’t catch his blunders and now the Cazenax was already in phase two of plotting the High Zeno’s downfall. It was additionally fortunate that the job also paid well.
He returned to assessing his team.
Mahal - expendable
Marz - expendable
Kaureerah - gets one free pass, then expendable
Ren - Zast could see that the Viraangish man had his cousin on a leash. One of those two isn't making it back from the mission
Upon seeing all the valuables stored in the Forked Tower, ones he could only lightly loot in the revolution, he was filled with the sudden altruistic desire to become a teacher for the good of the children here. But before he could be given the keys to the castle, he needed the job. Putting his best foot forward, he was only lightly intoxicated as he entered with his Dark magic godsweave suit.
The was a bit of awkward climbing as he climbed the human sized seat. But he played it off cool by assuming a relaxed position. "The pleasure is mine." He replied to nothing in particular as he picked at the food on display. He did not have good table manners; he displayed a particular lack of caution in regards to his diseased hands and the finger food.
"Ah, I see you eat like a disgusting slob!" High Zeno Silvestri replied. "Refreshingly honest. The food is delicious." He circled round and clapped Cawuio-Zast lightly on the shoulder. "One shouldn't stand on ceremony." Neutralizing the effects of the mana disease with his chemical and binding magics, he nonchalantly took a bite of some focaccia. "Now, why the sudden moral awakening, Mister Zast? I'd been led to believe you were quite the mercenary sort."
"I take no offense, Mister Silvestri." Concluding his fit of recklessly engorging himself on finger food, Zast politely cleaned his hands with Chemical magic and adjusted his suit.
"The answer is quite simple really. The mercenary way of life has its costs. I've found myself with a sudden urge to help the children of this school as a way of justifying to Dami-Zept the purity of my character." He lied through his teeth. "Plus the wages are nothing to scoff at."
Giancarlo smiled. "One could even say... an epiphany, even." He nodded thoughtfully. "I have heard of people who've had those experiences. Why, did you know, in the temple of Ahn-Khamun in Torragon, just such a man is buried?" He continued to circle, skewering an eyeball-sized bocconcini and swallowing it. "Emperor Az-Mahur." He waved the bit of trivia away. "So, you would consider yourself something of a religious fellow, then?"
Zast had no clue what he was talking about. "Doesn't seem to ring a bell. I'm not completely foreign to your profession, but I kept my business more on the procurement sides of things." He did wonder about the weight of gold the archeologist would have taken from such a tomb.
"As far as prayers go, I like to keep them light. I never had much interest in servitude, but it takes a very blind man not to realise who holds the cards."
"Mr. Zast, I must say, you've impressed me." The High Zeno gestured around the room, to take in his various artifacts: those that were still in the process of being analyzed, catalogued, and placed in their proper context. "Though some have told me that I am easily impressed. So, I bring to you an offer: this very moment, you may walk out of here with either of those two -" One was a golden sculpture of the Xochi Sky Serpent and the second was an ancient sirrahi artifact of simple steel and complex manufacture. "Or you may stay and take your chances with this job. What do you say?"
Zast very visibly licked his lips upon looking at the two artefacts. But managed to restrain himself and grinned instead. "Now you are speaking business, Silvestri. I've always thought that our chosen professions were one and the same. You'd see them every so often in An Zenui, a bunch of Constantian 'archaeologists' who would go into the temples and just so happen to consider all the valuable items of 'great historical import' then they would whisk the jewels away back home. Not that I particularly mind; I respect the grift."
Realizing he had gotten away from himself, Zast straighten back up and continued. "But no, Silvestri. You'll find I can't be easily bought like that. I will take my chances on the job..." I'll be back. I'll be back and I'll be excavating them both out of your hands
"Also, you might want to check up on that snake statue ya got there. I bought a similar one just last week in Mudville." Zast reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out what appeared to be an identical statue, which he let drop to the ground. Of course, the statue was much larger than Zast's coat pocket to a comical degree as well.
Giancarlo tilted his head to the side, unreadable for a moment. "An interesting take on the field of archaeology," he admitted. "So perhaps you can answer a question for me." He poured a cup of lemon water for himself and for his guest. "A student brings to you a piece, recently acquired, that she claims to be of immense cultural value. It is, incidentally, of significant monetary value as well. However, you can tell that it is a high-quality reproduction. Most others, of course, would not be able to do so. What is your approach to the situation?"
Zast grinned widely and leaned back in his chair at the question. "Counterfeiting is a terrible thing, Silvestri. Makes a bad name for honest businessmen like me."
"But that's an interesting situation. If you let her go, who knows if she could get better? Maybe one day, you'll come across her work and you're no longer able to tell. Suddenly you've found yourself with a crime against history, making the past wrong."
Zast took a long sip of his lemon juice and pretended to look contemplative. "I would give her a job. Teach her about artefacts and things. I wouldn't let her slip away. Who knows, she might even pick up a respect for history and give up on her ways."
"High Zeno Silvestri," the head of the department corrected. Once was an oversight. Twice was intentional. "I worked hard for this qualification." He waved the concern away, however. "Teach her what and teach her how?" The High Zeno seemed suddenly quite interested. "What are your specialties and what are your methods?" His eyes narrowed. "What would you do with the false artifact?"
"Sure, I don't mind what you all like to call yourselves. I'll keep it in mind" Zast spoke callously and quickly shifted to the question at hand. "You'd teach her history. With a book, presumably. Seems you have a girl with an eye for quality, enough to replicate the things you're looking for. That's a talent you can use to actually find what you want instead of being used to try and scam you." He left a pause on that.
"As for my talents..." Zast said but interupted himself. "Say High Zeeno, you wouldn't happen to smoke would ya." He reached around in his coat pocket to pull out two cigars. But instead, he pulled out the ever-expanding marshmellow and a big, red stick of dynamite labeled 'ACME'.
The High Zeno arched an eyebrow. "That marshmallow," he pointed out with the barest touch of alarm, "you'll need to eat it right now or it will grow and it won't stop."
Zast frowned at what he had conjured up, these were not cigars. But no use crying over spilt milk when the situation could still be recovered.
Not knowing what the marshmallow is, Zast tossed it over to Silvestri. "No, you can eat it. I meant it as a gift." He tried his best to do a kind smile; his face was not predisposed to such an action. Then he pocketed the TNT. "This one's for me. I'll be keeping it for later."
The High Zeno tossed it over his shoulder, into an ornate vase in the Cheffylan style. For a moment, the eyes painted on it glowed green and it seemed to grin. Then, the marshmallow was gone. For a moment... did one of the tattoos on Silvestri's arm glow as well? "Well, Mr. Zast, it appears we're about finished here," he concluded, standing and smiling. "We'll contact you if you've made it to the final stage. In the meantime, do use that explosive responsibly, hmm?"
"Thank you Silvestri, High Zeno Silvestri at that. It's been a pleasure." He hopped off the chair, landed on his feet, and adjusted his suit. For a moment, he considered the statue he conjured. "Feel free to keep that. Have a look at it when you consider my application." He began walking out of the room but spoke one final thing on the way out. "It isn't in the girl's best interest for her to get the job, but yours."
The High Zeno worked his jaw about, considering a response but delivering none. Then, the small cazenax was gone. He walked over to the false statue, picked it up, and fed it into the pot.
Cawuio-Zast would later find out that he did not, in fact, get the job. Zast gave Silvestri his options, he communicated the consequences of the High Zeno's actions, and he still chose wrong (and called Zast a girl). There would be costs to such a choice, there were always costs to any choice. And while Silvestri may not see those consequences in his lifetime, or be seen in his grandchildren's lifetime, they would arrive regardless.
Announcer: In various dig sites across the early Avincian Empire, artefacts were found that revealed a truth. One that many historians refuse to accept and one fewer have been allowed to know.
Panning graphic of an early Avincian map with red dots popping up in completely random places
Announcer: Evidence of a history in plain view has eluded the world for years. Could it be that aliens shaped the world we know today?
Fake image of Hugo Hunghorasz shaking hands with a floating robed Cazenax
Expert 1: The aliens that visited our world were actually early ancestors of the Cazenax. You can see the resemblance in the evidence.
Fake image of a UFO flying over the Forked Tower
Announcer: Across the Avincian empire, statues of creatures resembling Cazenax could be found in countless dig sites, despite the Cazenax civilization being on the other side of the world. This could be the work of something otherworldly, something extraterrestrial...
Expert 2: By looking at the statue, the resemblance to the Cazenax is really quite obvious. In fact, the only difference is that these aliens were really quite...
Image of the statue 'evidence' which depicts a very well-endowed Cazenax
Expert 2: ...hung.
Expert 2, who actually has a degree in history, looks depressed.
Announcer: Tune in to another episode of Avincian Aliens as we come on step closer to the truth. Only on the Silvestri channel.
The late afternoon sun shone down upon the jungles of Xolectoxo. Its divine glow graced a small town that few knew the name of and fewer bothered to see. Leon Solaire didn’t need to wonder too long about why that was. He looked out upon a far humbler display of civilisation than what he had become accustomed to in the grand cities all too eagerly on display.
The waterways so common in this region weren’t so beautifully maintained, the grasp of nature came through and cracked the stone. The water still flowed but small cracks resulted in small puddles forming every so often down the trail. This was a town left to time and even if Xolectoxo itself were to rapidly change, this place wouldn’t likely see the effects for years to come. It wasn’t unique to Callanast of course, countries back in Constantia were built upon humble communities like this; there was a lot to love about them. Leon firmly believed that if the buildings were not beautiful, you could often find beauty in the people’s hearts. And yet, for this town, it bothered him. He did the best he could to sweep that thought aside.
Leon had spent months travelling Callanast, staying in some places longer than others. He had learnt the wonderful art of manifestation magic, discovered recipes of tea that could help harness the edges of imagination, and found his sense of direction illuminated by his newfound skills. There was no better example of the performer's improvements than the freshly manifested Sun King mask hung from his left hip.
And yet, caught in the grandiosity of this new culture, Leon had neglected the very reason he had come to Callanast in the first place. A reason that he considered important to him at the time, but had become little more than a pitstop on his way back to Ersand’Enise.
The bright glowing yellow visage of a King Coal Toad charged in and out of the jungle’s edge chasing a trio of kids. Well, it was close enough to a King Coal Toad, Leon had taken multiple creative liberties in conjuring the illusion. Firstly, it looked like a toad in comparison to the actual creature's draconic form. Second, its proportions were ridiculous with big bulging eyes, a stubby body, and multiple tongues. Lastly, it quite visibly consisted of nothing but light. An encounter with a real King Coal Toad is quite scary, but this presented little danger aside from what a child's imagination was willing to give it.
The middle child of the trio was a meek boy who squealed with a playful fear whenever the beast drew near him and took to running away. It all seemed in good fun but Leon would flick his wrist and have the illusion stumble over itself comically whenever it got too close. The eldest, who couldn’t have been older than 12, picked up a stick and tried to defend his little brother by bravely taking the beast head-on. Leon would have the toad reel at the boy’s heroic swings. And then, the youngest of them; she didn’t seem to care for pretending and was content to just run at the golden frog while giggling. Leon laughed at the simplicity of it.
The performer relaxed in the home’s inside pool, let the gentle breeze pass over him and out the door into the backyard where the children played. Homes in Xolectoxo, at least the jungle houses anyway, were all about flow. Twice the number of doors to the normal home and movable screens were all designed to create a steady airflow throughout the house. Water irrigation systems flowed through the town providing small streams to each home, one off-stream usually branching off into a small pool which was perfect for getting out of the heat.
Leon loved the idea of inside pools and wondered why they hadn’t been picked up more in Constantia. Did it cross his mind that it would require costly city planning for town-wide irrigation or that the idea of an inside pool of this size is effectively the same as a large bathtub? No, not really.
The passing breeze began to carry the scent of his tea and the lady of the house followed not too long after with a cup for Leon and herself. The performer turned his head away from the backyard to give his full attention to his company and the King Coal Toad disappeared, which drew some disappointed complaints from the kids. Their mother called for them in Xochi to occupy themselves for a while; she asked the eldest to go check on their father and see whether he needed help with harvesting.
After setting the tea to the side, she sat on the opposite edge of the pool, letting only her feet and ankles dip in.
Yaretzi Cuautli was a woman in her late 30s or early 40s. Cuautli wasn’t her maiden name but was the one she had for at least 12 years judging by the age of her first child. She stood on the shorter end and, while she was beautiful, she certainly didn’t hold that to be a priority. Her attire was nice but undeniably cost-efficient and much the same could be said about her make-up and the spare jewels she wore. The woman had been settled for years and one could only imagine she was prepared to spend the rest of her life here in this town.
This woman was Leon’s biological mother and immediately he knew he made the right decision to meet her under false pretence. He did not return to her as a long-lost son seeking answers he already knew; he was simply a travelling performer in need of a place to rest along the road, one who loved to learn the stories of those he met on the path. He only wished to see her, know who she was, and he could leave it at that. She had moved on as he had, she had made a happy life for herself, who was he to disrupt that?
Leon picked up the cup of tea made for him, took a sip, and continued their conversation in Xochi. “I couldn't help but notice that you could understand Avincian when you answered the door early. It had been my mistake, but I was surprised to find you knew it also. Is there any chance we could speak in that?” Leon’s rudimentary knowledge of the language of Xolectoxo left his pronunciation stiff and needlessly formal.
Yaretzi humbly chuckled as she reached for her cup of tea. “It’s been too many years since I’ve needed to speak Avincian. I think at this point your Xochi is better.”
“That does not bode well.” Leon joked. The two shared a laugh.
They proceeded for some time with small talk. Leon talked about animals, cultures, and stories from Constantia while she strived to do the same for Callanast. It was clear that she had not been nearly as well-travelled as Leon was, but that wasn’t to say the conversation was boring. Leon told her that he was something of a big name in Constantia but comically feigned lament over the fact that so few had heard of him this far west. He admitted that he appreciated the time away in obscurity but he yearned to return to it all.
Then Leon realised the conversation had become focused on himself. While Yaretzi seemed perfectly content to listen, it wasn’t the reason he had come here. “Well, that’s enough about me. As I said, I am a wandering performer and what good is a performer if they lack a steady supply of stories to draw inspiration from? I could talk about my story all day; it's a terrible habit. I would like to hear yours Yaretzi.”
The woman looked surprised for a moment then settled back to a normal pleasant expression. Had she not expected him to ask or was it something else? Leon couldn’t be sure.
“I could tell you, but I doubt it would be a story to excite one such as yourself.” She took a sip of her tea and took some time to prepare. “I grew up in Calicoatl as the daughter of a cobbler. I’m sure you’ve been there already, tall building and too many people to count. It makes you feel quite small in the grand scheme of things…”
“There weren’t any high expectations for me, but I did well in school, quite well. When it came time to pursue higher education, it was all a gamble as I was the first in my family to consider it. Finances would be tight for a while, but if I succeeded, I could bring in far more for the family. So I went, I studied, and I failed. At the end of my first year in medical school, my grades didn’t make the cut.” Yaretzi laughed it off. Leon could tell it wasn’t a nice moment in her life, but time had healed such a wound of pride.
“The years following felt like a whirlwind. It seemed in losing that chance, I was being pulled in all directions at once, not really knowing who I should be or where. That was until I met Chimalli. Coming from the city, I scoffed at a place like this at first. There were no grand towers, no temples of gold, nothing more than vegetable farmers to keep the place afloat.” She delivered in a joking fashion before a content smile took her. “But I love it here. I think it may have been the first time I truly felt like someone who mattered to people, no matter how few those people were.” A silence lingered as Leon waited on more. But more didn’t come.
“Well, Leon Solaire? I don’t know if that would make for a good story or even a song. But it's what I have.”
No, that isn’t all you have. “Are you sure that’s everything?” Leon pressed.
What followed was immediate regret on the performers' part. He had pressed too far and his mother looked at him with an expression of confusion, or sadness, maybe it was a mix between the two, but Leon couldn’t quite read it. Had the question brought up painful memories she would rather not recall? Had one of those memories been the circumstances of his birth? If so, why was it painful?
Or had she figured him out? Did she put together that her first son was sitting right in front of her? If she could see through his mask, then why didn’t she drop hers? Could she not accept him as her son?
These were questions that ran through Leon’s mind in an instant and they were ones he may never gain the answers to as the two sat in silence. Their smiles and pleasantries dropped as they both processed information that the other would never be partial to. Like mother, like son…
It was Yaretzi who broke the silence. She looked up and peered over Leon’s shoulder past him, then back to the performer. “Yes, Leon, that was everything.” She gave him a smile of sad acceptance.
Leon looked back over his shoulders to see the two younger children spying in on them from the doorway. He gave them a happy smile to try and ease their worries about the situation. However, they retreated out of sight not too long after, like they had been caught in an ‘adults conversation’ they shouldn’t have been part of. Well, that's exactly what it was when Leon thought it over. Perhaps they would never come to know that Leon Solaire was their half-brother.
It was Leon who broke the tension. He looked back to smile at his mother, it was a cheerful one, if a little forced. “For what it's worth, I think it makes for a good song Yaretzi.” He let that linger for a while. “What I had meant to ask is if you knew any magic. I find that odd people on the road tend to show surprising capabilities. Would you have a hidden talent like that?”
Yaretzi perked up at hearing the conversation topic shift away from her life. “I do.” She said with relief. “Although, it's only some basics I learnt when I was young.”
“That’s wonderful! Please, don’t leave me in anticipation.” Leon let out with increasing excitement.
“No, please, don’t get your hopes up too high.”
She proceeded to raise her palm skyward as Leon could feel a slight chilly breeze pass by him, Yaretzi was drawing from Arcane. When could see the first blinks of luminescence sparking from her palm, Leon went to shield his eyes from the glow with an excited smile. However, when his mother finally began channelling, Leon was quick to drop that shield. There was no need. From her palm radiated a small dim sphere of light no bigger than a housecat. It lasted for about 10 seconds before fading to nothing.
Leon was disappointed. He shouldn’t have been. For a woman of humble origins like her, this was quite an impressive feat. And yet, he was disappointed nonetheless, he couldn’t deny that feeling. His mother couldn’t have been much higher than 5 RAS, if that. His Sunblessed abilities must have come from her, not his Revidian father, so he had expected more. He didn’t let that change his expression though, he kept an excited smile. “It is quite the display.” He lied.
“You would lie to spare my feelings?”
“I wouldn’t. There are too many on the road who lack the ability at all. This is quite impressive by comparison to them.”
“Whatever you say, Leon Solaire.” She said poking fun at his recovery attempts.
Later that night, when the whole family was back, Leon would perform a private showing for them. He sang, danced, told stories, and even gave the kids the chance to slay the mighty King Coal Toad once more. At the end of a fun night of family-friendly antics, the performer took his rest in their house. The conversation from earlier played through his head again and again as he tossed in the bed.
When sleep had finally taken him, he dreamt of a staircase.
Leon didn’t linger long in the morning. Soon after the break of dawn, he had already taken to the road. Only his mother and his eldest half-brother were there to see him off.
He left the home feeling let down. Much like the meeting with his biological father, his mother had not lived some grand impressive life. His father was at least somewhat successful as a travelling merchant; his mother seemed to have turned away from any notion of greatness whatsoever, even if her magic capability was the greater of the two.
When Leon thought back to the circumstances of his birth only a year ago, he had imagined something greater. Perhaps he was the descendant of a mighty Sunblessed mage or a king from some faraway land. In the unknown, he had filled the gaps with something that could justify the popularity and fame he had gained. Something that could ease his mind when thinking about the heights he wished to reach.
But it seemed that every stone that paved his past before he could call his memories his own was a testament to the contrary. An entirely mundane origin whose only exception came from not being wanted by either parent. If that were to be the case, then maybe it was best to leave that part of his past behind and let himself try to forget it. Instead, Leon would define himself by his present and the future in which he could do unprecedented good. The sun shone brightly ahead, he need only follow the path he set for himself…
Then he remembered Atzi, a girl from the Sunblessed community he met only months ago, which caused him to turn back for but a moment. Perhaps, like her, his mother had far more to tell and she would want to tell it. Maybe all it took was to turn back and just tell Yaretzi that he was her son. Maybe then they could talk with true intentions and come to an understanding with one another. Did he really want to leave questions unanswered before it was no longer an option to ask them?
Those thoughts were fleeting. He turned on a heel and was back to the road ahead. It was not his place to stay. His mother had created a happy life for herself here; it was not his place to disrupt that.
Even if he were to stay, what good would that do him? Staying in a place forgotten to time while the world passed him by? He could not allow that. As the mask of the Sun King hung on his hip, it was a reminder that he had the power to impact the world and manifest a brighter future. It was not his place to hide away from it; it was his duty to do help improve it.
This place could only ever be a stop in the road. The Ersand’Enise Trials were fast approaching and set the stage for his return. If he were to linger here, even for a moment, he could miss that chance. Then, maybe, the sun that beckoned his future would fade from him. He could never allow that to happen.
Zarina and himself were setting up the Chamber of Time and Space while Pete was off to the side munching on a grotesque VOID ham. It was in a moment of quiet in the Forked Tower basement that Leon caught himself. At what point had he stopped being the Sun King, had he stopped speaking like Leon Solaire, and let the mask slip into just Leon? When he had charged the gates of the Violet Enclave, his heart was set on the staircase before him and yet, for a while now, he had been speaking normally and honestly to this girl as if none of that mattered. It was... nice, for a time, but it couldn't last forever. He had a person to be and a reputation to embody; this often didn't allow for normalcy. It would only be a matter of time before others joined the two and it would demand he return to the mantle.
"Zarina," Leon broke the moment of silence with an uncharacteristically serious tone of voice, "I like you and I would like to think I could trust you. Earlier in that basement, I was drained of RAS. I have the inability to recharge like everyone else and it's a weakness of mine. It is a weakness I have gone through great efforts to hide."
"Could you promise me not to tell anyone about this? And by anyone, I mean not a living soul, on Ipte. I know it is a lot to ask."
The break of silence wasn't as catching as the tone employed by Leon. It required Zarina's immediate response, prompting her to stop any setting up of the orbs for their scheme. “Hmmm?” She twisted to regard him while Nibbler dived back down into her bag with the scent of Pete becoming stronger in the general area.
“Ah.” The Virangish nodded slowly with her lower lip sucked in. The weight of the request took its time to process. “Right, sure. I promise.” she said with a not-so-reassuring casual tone. She raised her hand to indicate she wasn't done. “Sorry, it caught me off guard. I gotta assume you'd probably be in danger if people found out, huh? Since you're Mr. Popular 'n' all.” She shot him a sly smile and crossed her arms. “Or maybe it makes you look less perfect. I gotta admit, many girls, and even boys, still think their idols are beyond human. I can see some freaking out. So-” she lowered her head slightly and took a tone that matched the seriousness of the sunblessed. “I promise. I don't rat. And I'd like to think you're one of the good ones too. People, that is. So, of course.”
"You make it sound so juvenile... when you call them boys and girls." Leon replied with a chuckle but didn't shift from his contemplative expression. He turned to check the ground behind him before taking a seat. Then he took off the Sun King mask and tossed it gently aside. If he was to trust Zarina with the secret, he needed to explain his reasons for keeping it. "I want to be a symbol for something, Zarina. Leon Solaire, the Sun King, I could be a figure that people can believe in. Someone who can't be defeated; someone they can trust to see the sunshine on a brighter world. I can't even begin to imagine what I could achieve with that." Even through his dour tone, Zarina would be able to hear the passion filling the performer's lungs at the end of that phrase.
"But people are fickle, as you may know, and I can only imagine that gets worse when a war is knocking on your door. If I am seen defeated or showing weakness, they could lose faith in me in an instant." He clicked his fingers for emphasis. "I would cease to be the person that could achieve their dreams. What change could I hope to inspire like that?"
Leon's mood cheered up with a more humble smile after Zarina had made the promise. "It warms my heart to hear you'll keep it. Telling you couldn't be avoided, after seeing me like that in the basement, but I'm glad it was you. It might be nice to have at least one person to talk about it with." His smile grew. "I trust you."
Zarina chuckled with a twinge of nervousness in her tone. “Well, uhm,” she scratched her cheek, looked to the side, the whole package of tells to give away she was flustered. “thank you. I kinda feel unworthy now that you say it so frankly. I'd say it's an honour, but-” she flashed a cheeky grin at the beloved public figure. “I'd rather be your friend than a fan, so no brown-nosing.”
The task she had been working on was dropped for a brief moment and she joined the young man that had confided in her until they were a few feet apart. She sat by one of the podiums holding an orb and crossed her legs. “And as a friend, I'll give you my genuine thoughts.” she looked at him straight in the eye. “You're not a God. Nor was that old Hugo. Nor the Zenith. Nor Tojarra. Nor the Doge. In fact, the Gods themselves aren't ...” She pursed her lips and instinctively turned her head where Lilith's statue would have been. Obviously, it wasn't there. “They're not as pristine as we believe. Nor did they ever have to be. And neither should you.”
From a more serious and flatter expression, she adopted a more radiant smile. “I was raised with a similar sort of mindset. Save face, project an image of something I'm not. It's basically how my family gained influence.” She peered down and reached out for Leon's hand - warm and gentle palms that sought to give reassuring caresses. “I'd get into so many fist fights as a kid whenever someone tried to make me feel vulnerable or helpless. It made me feel good, and I had respect, but ...” her expression was glum and her eyes didn't leave the floor. “Nobody really liked me. Knew me. I hated what I had to do to keep things as they were. It was ... Unbearable, and the returns were meaningless. There was no betterment to anything other than the superficial, and my soul was hurting.” She squeezed the hand and clenched her jaw.
But then her features softened and she peered up to him. “Then I met the right people. Those that never had me feel naked and vulnerable for just being ... Me? Even when I was a total cunt.” She nodded and chuckled nervously. There was an internal battle to hold back some stronger emotions as she reminisced. “I focused less on what people think of the idea of me, and instead on what I wanted to do. How I was going to do better for both myself and others. It filtered out the many, but I kept the right people. Those that I could truly do something good with.” her eyes dived into his before she stated with a clear sense of pride. “Now I've made the world a better place for Tethered. And I've saved an entire nation from a monster spawning from the very depths of hell, and helped their broken system heal. All because I trusted the right people with who I truly was, as imperfect as I may be.” she brushed a few locks of her hair over her ear.
“What I'm saying is ... You don't have to be a God, loved of feared, to change the world. For better or for worse.” she looked to the side as a stray thought his her. “Besides, the Gods are imperfect basket cases anyway. Mostly.”
Leon didn't interrupt when Zarina was speaking, nor did he try to chime in with a clever comment. He was silent as he listened and he listened well. When she reached for his hand, he gave it willingly. When she squeezed his hand, he could feel the pain she went through. Even if it was a small window into her life, he came to a better understanding of who she was. For a moment, it looked as though he wanted to believe it, that he could follow her words and it would steer him right. But then she finished her speech and a break of silence set in as he processed her words in their entirety. Leon looked away from the girl and down to the floor with a frown.
"I'm happy for you." Leon looked up to Zarina with sympathy and held her hands in his, this time reassuring her. "I really am, Zarina. I couldn't imagine a world where people would look at me in fear. I can't imagine the drain it would have on the soul." He smiled that humble smile he had shown so little before their time in this tower. "I'm glad you could rise above it and find those people who could help you up. You seem to have achieved so much with them at your back..." There was a pause as Leon's smile faded and his tone grew somber. "And maybe to some degree I can understand what you are saying. Maybe I know something about what you are going through. But what I have is different." His gaze and his hands slowly withdrew. He looked out toward the chamber as he hugged his knees.
"Those that look up to me, they don't fear me, Zarina. They love me... and I love them. It doesn't hurt my soul, it warms it to know that I can bring such happiness to so many people." Leon smiled into the distance. There was a twinge of uncertainty in his voice, some evidence of second thoughts that even the performer himself didn't know were there. "When you are up there, above the world, and they are looking up to you in admiration, awe, and expectation, is it anyone's place to deny what the heart wants?” Leon's eyes lit up somewhat to the empty chamber as if gazing upon something conjured by the mind's eye. "If they look to you to fulfil their dreams and wants, could you really crush those so willingly even if it's just the truth? To go out of your way to bring someone happiness, is that not the greatest expression of love?"
Leon turned back to Zarina but kept a reserved posture. "You talk about the Doge, Hugo, the gods themselves like they aren't perfect. The gods could take some convincing, but I can believe you. And yet, people look to them as if they are perfection and they have the ability to inspire that faith. Even if they themselves can't change the world on their own, the people who follow them can." A confidence took the performer as he expressed a far more determined believer. "It's not going to end here. War is on the horizon, Zarina, I'm not blind to it. But I could be like them, as a figure, I could inspire so many people and actually change things for the better. You say I don't have to be a God, but I would say only a God could rise above the tides of war. A God can do so much more to change the world, so if I have the ability, is it not my duty to try?" 'After all, if the fantasy is greater than reality, then what good is the truth' Leon thought the last part but chose not to express the words.
Do they love YOU, though? The man I'm speaking to? Or just an idea they'd gladly see either shine in triumphant radiance or burn bright in martyrdom? Are you not operating out of fear of what they'll do if they know you? How far would you bring this?
There was a desire to debate, lecture and push back to the notions of grandeur Leon had been selling. From his word selection to his body language, an attentive friend couldn't help but wonder if this path was a righteous one. Hugo Hunghorasz died backstabbed, the Doge had always poised himself for war and few knew of the nature of the Gods. Perhaps there was nothing wrong with Leon's creed - there were simply men born to do these things and to change the world. But few ever spoke of those dear to them, that knew them, and how the ordeal affected them. They were a spec to the grand scheme of things, of course, but did they not matter? Especially to the person in question?
All these urges to speak her mind and challenge notions of 'good' over 'truth', ideas that were generally beyond Zarina most of the time, were stifled. A light frown took form at first, one hard to distinguish with her head slumped down and her hair veiling a portion of her face. She put on a convincing smile and looked up to the celebrity she had adopted as a friend. “As your bud, I'd underline how foolish you sound sometimes. But ...” she pushed herself up as Pete began to approach them to demand some attention. She shot the revolting animal an amused glance before resting her hand on Leon's shoulder before giving it a tight squeeze. “I'd be a hypocrite to say you shouldn't follow what the heart tells you. Just don't forget that there's more to life than changing the world and squealing fans.” She winked.
She let go, turned to face the orb she had been tinkering with. But before she returned to work, she raised her pointer finger and turned her head to look back. “Just-” her voice lost its jovial tone for a moment. “Make sure you also do this for you, Leon. Not just for a world that scares you if it ever found out you were human like all of us.”
Leon smiled back at Zarina as she touched his shoulder, accepting the comfort she provided. He didn't rush to speak, instead he just watched her work for a while. In the moment of quiet, he could have been churning through any number of thoughts, but it would be difficult to tell. For a moment, it may have seemed as though he answered her question with silence.
But when he did finally speak, it was wistfully and without much direction. To an outside observer, he could have been talking to Pete just as much as he was Zarina. "Without it... I don't think there would be a Leon Solaire. I would have never had the popularity I have, never have got into Ersand'Enise, and would never have met the people I could truly call friends. I wouldn't have had a dream of seeing Calanast, running in the Trails, or fighting and making a difference as I stand now..."
He sat up a little more and faced Zarina but didn't buy for her attention from the task at hand. "Unlike you Zarina, I am who I am because of that image. It is at once the thing that has brought me to this point and the guiding light to which I can follow into the future with certainty. I can't imagine how lost I would be without it... I'm happy doing this." Leon affirmed confidently, but to Zarina's ear, traces in his tone wouldn't make it entirely convincing.
Leon stood, approached Zarina until he was face to face with her, and placed both of his hands on her arms comfortingly. His visible mood had improved greatly in that short walk and he looked close enough to the Leon from minutes earlier who lacked the dour mood of the conversation. "I understand what you are saying and I thank you for your words. I don't think I could speak that way to a fan so, for what it's worth, I prefer you as a friend as well. Maybe it will do me good to... be myself in front of someone else once in a while. But I hope it's alright if it's just one person for now."
Zarina's expression decomposed into a frown as she turned her back on Leon to pursue her stakeout of the temporal chamber. His words caused some old scars to flare up, and perhaps even put a mirror on what she herself was doing. Like him, she wanted to be a hero and someone seen as reliable - someone who could save everyone, albeit on a far smaller scale than the star she shared the room with.
They were now face-to-face. A friendship she would not reject had been formed. She reached out for his waist with both her arms and embraced the Sun warrior, now out of his radiant armour, for a brief moment. The hold was tight and the smell of lavender that permeated her being - particularly her neck - rubbed onto him as well. “I like that.” she cooed before stepping back, eyes half-lidded and smiling. “Being that one, super special friend.” She winked.
“Hmm.” although a stray throught hit her. “What about your stage partner? Y'know, Kaureerah? I thought you two hit it off as friends, habibi.”
Leon returned the embrace with his arms a little higher on her back in comparison. The look, the moment, the smell of lavender, it was a situation he knew well. But his mind wasn't swept to fantasy and was instead focused and grounded, making the feeling all too foreign. He wasn't blind to the implication of 'super special friend', but he hadn't meant it that way, had he? It was strange; to admit what he had admitted to Zarina was a level of trust he hadn't put in anyone for a long time. While it didn't fit the idea of love as he knew it to be, he couldn't immediately attribute the feeling to something else.
The reoccurring feeling of pressing on his chest did not return. Days earlier in the library, Ingrid had tossed a pebble into the lake of Leon's mind. He was confused by the ripples and sought to understand the cause. Even if there was little time to ponder on theories, all of them he had so far would expect this exchange to be much the same. It wasn't. Not a pebble or even a speck of dust breached the water's surface. And yet, lost for understanding, those waters were sent into turmoil as if a rock five times the size was tossed in. His facade dropped again. The turmoil of it all caused him to be a passive participant in the wordless dance of desire, neither reciprocating nor rejecting her.
There wasn't the time to process it all and it wasn't the place. So he focused on Zarina's latter question instead. "... Kaureerah... I don't know. I wasn't lying when I said I loved her." He did, he did, by all metrics of what he knew love to be, he did... Just like so many before her and who knew how many after. "I'll say this. Kaureerah is beautiful, more beautiful than simple appearances. To see her smile, to see her happy, it sets my heart alight as if she were one hundred people, more." A smile returned to him when speaking, the exact same one when he talked about the Sun King. Then it faded. "I couldn't bear to disappoint her, to see that warmth fade. Her more than anyone. I don't think I could ever tell her what I've told you here."
Zarina patted both of Leon's shoulders and smiled with a head canted slightly, causing some of her rebellious locks to hang. “Yeah, you should definitely become a thing, you two.” she decided with a foxy smirk. “And you should tell her. What's there to lose? Oh!” She shook Leon's figure a little. “Make it a song! You know she loves those. And surely, she'll love you, a kindred spirit. Or, wallah, at the very least give you top service.” She winked.
Pete got antsy and trotted over to them, demanding attention with his tail wagging aggressively. “... We do have a rebellion to complete, don't we?” She raised a brow and shot a complicit look at her celebrity friend. “If we survive this, come over for a drink. You know where I live. In fact, Kaureerah's my tenent so ...” she shrugged as she walked backwards, slowly. “I. Am. Inevitable!” she exclaimed dramatically.
"You know, I might just take you up on that. All of it." Leon replied with a pat on the sides of the arms and a smile. His demeanour lacked the sass of his company and was that a blush? No, it must have been a trick of the light.
Leon returned to the Sun King mask and donned it once again. "You’re quite right, we have a rebellion to win. Talk of love and longing is best held over drinks." He jumped up and down briefly, shaking out his arms and legs for the fight ahead. "Oh, and Zarina. We will survive this. We both have places to be, people to see, and higher to climb. Its only a matter of when those drinks are." Such overwhelming confidence and certainty emanated from the performer’s voice that one could think he had seen the future and knew it to be fact. This was not the case.
Although, on the way out, a stray thought hit him. ’What about your love, Miret? What happened to the one that caught you so only a few days ago?’ Leon thought the questions but didn’t let them out. Even if he didn’t have all the details, he had seen her case before. There was a rule to love and heartbreak: Don’t ask questions you already know the answers to. At least it would give him an opportunity to repay the favour.
Back at the top of the Forked Tower, Leon looked to the skies above and saw the veil of night waning. He had spent many an early morning waiting for the sun to rise, and he knew it could only be a few minutes before dawn broke and the sky would be bathed in the heavenly glow. It brought thoughts back of a time only months earlier in Xolectoxo when he sat atop a spire that pierced the heavens. One so elevated you could think that the sun was closer to you than the earthly worries below.
There had been a thought that had raced through his mind from the moment he stepped into the Violet Enclave and looked up and the titan of a building that was the Forked Tower. Now that the day was won, he could finally act on that idea but he had to do it before the sunrise.
The revolution had ended, and they had won. But even if the dawn arrived, it wouldn't mean the fighting had ended. The sun would rise upon a world of turmoil and confusion, unsure if the bloodshed was to cease. Leon could provide that beacon, he could be the first thing people would see to give them certainty and let them know that justice had been done.
Dragon of the Old Mother, you granted me your strength, I ask you to look at my first act with it.
Leon had been at the front of the parade when the Zenos had dispersed the clouds from the opening ceremony. It didn't escape his notice that they didn't disperse them at the conclusion of these Trials. So if the Zenos weren't going to disperse the clouds, let it be the students that do it, let it be him.
Let them look upon me. Let them look upon me and see the dawn. Let them see the Sun King and know that justice has been done. I am Leon Solaire, I am the Sun King.
The performer raised his hand to the sky and channelled everything he had into luminescence to create a miniature sun above the Forked Tower. With enough power, he hoped to bathe all of Ersand'Enise in the glow but was uncertain. It is not as though he attempted to create light on this scale before. The Sun King tried to look up for a moment, but even he knew better than to look directly at it within such a short distance. Instead, he simply smiled widely and joyfully at the achievement as the golden rays engulfed him. The mask hid the hunger in his eyes.
By the time all was said and done, Leon just sat at the top of the forked tower, welcomed the rising sun, and wondered what the future may hold. In the days to come, he would be asked if he wished for his memory to be wiped. He would hold the memories of what happened at this place, but ask not for the memories he lost to be restored. He remembered a successful rebellion, thats all there was to it. He need not gain the rest when he could fill in the blanks himself.
In the days following the revolution, Leon walked through places as he normally did. But there was an interesting thought for him to ponder now. Had the civilians of Ersand’Enise been given the same option as them? Were they given the choice to forget the events of the entire revolution? Had they even been given the choice or had their memories been taken regardless?
It was a scary thought the more he pondered on it, but it also provided a fun game. He considered it rude to outright ask someone whether they had chosen to get their memory erased, they wouldn’t even remember saying yes if they were given the choice. So instead, Leon played the game of trying to guess if they had their memories erased. Did they look at him like just the Sun King who had participated in the Trials or one who had a hand in overthrowing the school as well? He couldn’t tell yet, but that didn’t bother him. Knowing would mean the game had come to an end.
Strolling through Mudville, something small caught the performer’s eye. A small pony, only ankle high, with an absurd mane of royal purple had run into his path. It looked lost and was running around aimlessly. With its small size, even getting from one end of the road to another must have been quite the feat of distance. Not to mention dodging the feet of less observant pedestrians. Leon knelt to pick the small horse up and had a surprisingly easy task doing so. The horse must have recognised him without the mask on. Then he waited with the horse in hand, comforting the miniature animal while scouting the surrounding area.
The performer didn’t have to wait long until the pony’s owner came along. It was that girl from his first day back in Ersand’Enise, the one whose happy smile heralded the entrance of the Sun King. He looked back at her with a beaming smile, happy to see her again.
The girl asked for her pony back and Leon was more than happy to oblige. Afterwards, he waved a hand over his face and illusioned the Sun King mask onto it. The real mask was hanging from his left hip; it would be a simple process to put it on. But it was the apparating mask that evoked more wonder and whimsy, even if it wasn’t real. It was only obvious which option Leon preferred.
“Oh what a terrible day. A small horse; lost and astray. She cries out to the town with fading neighs.” Leon spoke in his Sun King rhymes. “But there’s no need to worry, there’s no need to mope. The Sun King will always be there, so stay well, and have hope.”
Leon looked at the girl and wondered if, in this girl’s eyes, he had become what he desired. Did she look back at him like the storybook heroes he admired as a child? Did he look like the impossible person he wished to be perceived as?
To create such an absurdly impossible creature as the miniature horse, Leon had triumphed over reality itself just to make a little girl happy. If he was someone who could achieve the impossible, what was such a task as achieving peace if not a matter of scale? Did this girl believe him capable of that? Could she look toward the uncertain future with hope and be certain that things will be better, that tomorrow’s sun will shine upon a better world?
Could Leon fulfil the promise of that hope? It was his duty to try.
No, that wasn't it. What was stopping him? It wasn't a matter of if he was capable of succeeding, it was simply that he must.
Memories of a Revolution
A Foreword: Memories of a Revolution is a section made for archival purposes. While there are some fun sequences in there, none of this is a necessity to read. For convenience, I have provided summaries of each sequence above if anyone want to follow the exact events.
- Laska catches Leon and Zarina being friendly and comes over to check about the 'problem' Leon had with his company. - Leon never had a problem with Zarina and simply lied. He somewhat gets away with this by deflecting it to talks of love.
She was there with her basket, ordering muffins across the counter as if they were medicine: the nun. Had she simply failed to notice Zarina and Leon seated together at a table out front? With all that had taken place at the school of late, one could forgive her for not noticing. Still, the nun noticed everything. To be so unobservant was unlike her.
“This thing?” Zarina flicked the edge of her Kerreman hat still on her head. “Downright saved my life back there. I'd be turned into a crisp without it. That and it's stylish, of course.” she winked at Leon before indulging in her still hot cappuccino. The two were sitting at one of the small tables that surrounded the Zeno Bucks kiosk near the pier. “I wasn't going insane, right? The guy full-on agreed to working with that slime, right? Just before attempting to send me to Dami's Hell.” she shook her head in both amusement and outrage. “Fucking Prenchy highborns.”
Zarina may have had animal senses, but she found herself often taken by conversations that she missed the good nun and proud penguino owner. Or maybe this long, long day had really done a number of the coffee brewer. Still, the world had failed to break her smile.
"It is rather stylish and all the better if it keeps you alive. You could consider me jealous of such a fashionable piece, if hats suited me that is." He winked back and took a sip of his water, which may or may not draw judgement from the coffee enthusiast across the table. He simply didn't like the bitter taste of coffee and didn't require the caffeine either.
Leon chuckled at the highborn comment. "In my experience, the noble class hardly lives up to their name when matters of personal gain are involved." But his tone grew serious. "No, I don't think you were just seeing things. And I don't think that he was the only one. If I'm being honest, I find it all too troubling in hindsight. I was lucky to have stepped in when I did."
Leon's gaze at the end drifted off across the pier and out toward the ocean, not noticing Laska. While the event didn't disturb him at its conclusion, negative thoughts were creeping into the performer's head when he dwelled on the moment. Still, he kept his smile for his company's sake.
Then, with an almost eerie suddenness, Edyta Laska materialized beside the pair. "Oh my Ipté!" she chirped merrily. "Fancy seeing you two here!" It was a sunny dorrad day and she was wearing a lighter habit than usual. A lick of wind stirred her clothing and she smiled. "I'm so very glad to see you've made up."
Zarina pleasantly listened to Leon with frequent nods and sips from her still hot beverage. But before she could speak, a greyborn interloper joined them. “Ah, sister Laska.” acknowledge Zarina with a curt nod. “I-” she was about to answer in complete auto-pilot, but she caught on. “Wait, what?” she blinked, shifting her attention to Leon for clarity. “We got beef?”
The nun's eyes darted between them. "Oh," she replied. "I wasn't aware it wasn't..." She trailed off, trying not to look Leon's way, trying not to be confused, but she did not entirely succeed on either account.
'Made up? What is Laska talking about?' Leon thought with confusion, it took him a moment before he remembered and his eyes widened just a little. 'Oh shit.' Of course, the performer didn't want to look like a liar but he had only been in this situation a few times before. He didn't know the best way to get out of it cleanly.
"Its good to see you Laska. I'm glad to see the sun is treating you well." Leon replied pleasantly. "Its been a enlightening day for me. Honestly, I find myself struggling to remember the problem in the first place."
Zarina pursed her lips. “Uhm ...” and then shrugged. “Okay?”
Edyta smiled. "Well, I'm very happy to see that things are patched up, Leon." For a moment, she did not lose an ounce of her smile. "While I try not to burn to a crisp in the sun." Then, however, it fell into a look of concern, aimed directly at the other party present. "Though Zarina appears a bit confused." she pulled up a third chair and sat, placing a sack of muffins on the table. "Perhaps we should take the time to remember our feelings and work through them." She smiled. "I have muffins!" she giggled.
Zarina's felt like she wasn't in on some joke. Genuine confusion turned into a dull stare to make her lack of amusement evident. “Okay. Now I'm actually lost.” in fact, there was light annoyance in her tone. Luckily for everyone, she was easily pacified by muffins. The wildblood perked up and grinned wide. “Muffins? Shi- Darn, sister! You know where to strike.” gleefully she indulged. But she did not forget the oddity that had come up, and she stared at Leon expectantly while feasting.
Leon let out a nervous chuckle as the two had their eyes on him. Was the sun getting hotter? If so, it wasn't in the good way. They were grilling him with their eyes. Leon adjusted his collar and thought through what he could say. The performer kindly accepted a muffin but didn't take a bite yet. He had nothing to say and he didn't want to be caught in a lie with these two. He liked both of them.
"Alright, I lied sister. I'm sorry. I never had a problem with Zarina." He let out while feeling a weight off his chest. "But you have to understand, I did it in the name of love this ti... I did it in the name of love."
Sister Laska blinked twice. "For love." She tilted her head to the side and her mental state could've been just about anything for all of the other two's ability to read it. "Love," she repeated, more softly.
Then, she shrugged. "Ipté and I aren't as well-acquainted as we should be," she decided, either ignoring or missing Leon's verbal slip-up. "I'll be the first to admit." She leaned in, eyes darting at Zarina. "Who's the special girl?" They flicked back and forth between the two.
“Wh-” Zarina had already wolfed down half her muffin before the radical shift in subject hit her. She suddenly felt very targeted, especially as the nun's eyes met her's. “I uh ...” a look of uncertainty was shot at Leon, lips tight and covered with crumbs. Her first naive suspicion was that it concerned her given the convenient circumstances that led to the final team compositions. Did he do it for her love? Her wits were simply not quick enough to realize he was the subject of that decision, and assumed too much on how much he knew of her. With a mousy voice, she uttered the next word. “Heh. Miret.”
Her cheeks were red hot and and her gaze fixed on the half eaten muffin. It was sinking into her quite fast what she had just said. How she just wanted to just melt and become one with the gravel.
How quickly the tables turn, Leon thought to himself, he had gotten out of that predicament rather cleanly. He rested his head in the palm of his right hand and tried to keep the spreading grin on his face humble. He felt like he was under a looking glass just moments earlier and now saw both woman in his company shift immediately at the mention of love. Frankly, the ball was in his court now and he was smug about it.
"It would appear that I'm not the only love bird here." Leon Solaire let out a small chuckle, winked at Laska, then looked back to Zarina. "Theres no shame to be had in admitting the one you love. Its a good sign you shared so readily, Zarina." Then, instead of answering the question himself, he turned to face Laska. "How about yourself, Laska? Is there a special someone you would like to share as well?"
Zarina rolled her eyes. “Good sign that I'm a clueless idiot, yeah.” shaking herself from the mild humiliation she had subjected herself to, her attention fell onto Laska.
Edyta Laska's eyes darted between the one and the other. She blinked. "Oh no no." She shook her head. "I'm so very happy that you're happy," she replied a bit too quickly. "and there was no crisis in the first place. Ipté be praised!" Grabbing her basket, she made a suspiciously quick exit.
As the nun attempted escape, Zarina knocked her knuckles twice onto the wooden surface. “Hey now, we were just getting started on this great snack, sister.” she shot a cheeky smirk toward her. “I didn't know you were quite the dancer until last night.”
"Really?" Leon looked to Zarina with pleasant surprise then back toward Laska. He finally took a bite of his muffin and seemed genuinely impressed with the taste. "I didn't take you for the dancing type either Laska. You surely wouldn't leave us so soon without giving a recount." Leon gave his best puppy dog eyes, he would be heart broken not to hear. After all, most of the dances took two.
They had recognized her and said nothing. Edyta did not know how to feel about this. She did not know how to feel about this. "Even those dedicated to Eshiran must still serve the others. That night was Ipté's." She bowed her head indulgently, desperately low. "Now, I fear I will be late to the soup kitchens if I do not make haste. Oraff must also be honoured." She took two steps away before pausing and redoubling back. She murmured something quickly to the barista and left a few coins on the table. Then, pale face as red as the hair behind her habit, Sister Laska scampered away via a slightly different route, pausing and raising a hand in a quick, partially-aborted wave at Zarina and Leon.
“Honouring Ipté. Fancy way to say 'yeah, I like him'.” Commented Zarina after a snobbish sip of her coffee as Laska took her leave. Amused, a foxy look was shot toward Leon. “So, love. You really gotta make a heart throb for a girl to make a song for you.” her brows wiggled. “You and Kaureerah make quite the duo.”
Laska had already gone before Leon had gotten a word in. "There's nothing wrong with fancy, although it is a little formal." He responded to Zarina with a smile.
In stark contrast to Zarina, Leon's reaction at the mention of Kaureerah didn't cause a blush and he wasn't startled or shy at the thought. Instead, he rested his face once more in his right palm and his smile grew just a little wider. "Oh, it looks like I've been found out. And here I thought our romance was a closely guarded secret." He replied with playful sarcasm.
“I'm onto your scandalous proclivities, Leon.” Zarina wagged her pointer finger that had previously been coiled around her mug. “Funny, I did not think of you two as 'available'. More, like, free-spirited.”
Leon chuckled. "Any traveler can stop at a beautiful view and decide to stay a while. Who know if it convinces them to stay?" He paused for a while and considered something over a sip of water. "I'll say this Zarina, I've never said I love someone without meaning it."
Zarina raised an unconvinced brow. “Sooooo ...” her eyes shifted to the right as one of her employees tending to an order and passed by their spot. “Do you love her?”
Leon raised an eyebrow back at Zarina, somewhat confused at her skepticism. He thought a bit, feeling a trace of that familiar feeling in his chest return. What was that? "Of course I do." His delivery was flighty, doing little to sooth his company's doubts. Even if the statement was true in his mind.
- Leon gives a rousing speech to a group of Revidian students to join the revolution. This is a big success.
Leon paced around Balthazar Square in anticipation of the coming storm, a storm that he had vowed to head among a small group of others. He didn't need the preparation the others did. He had been meditating and channeling manifestation magics for most of the day. He was ready; but time ticked away for the other's to prepare.
In his pacing, he spotted a group of students some distance from the gathering mob. They weren't combat ready, they didn't look like they were preparing; just watching, some with curiousity, some with judgement. It didn't take Leon long for him to identify them as a group of Revidian students.
Leon could already guess what the group was thinking. 'Is Leon Solaire a traitor? Both Torragon and Revidia expressed support for Tojarra, why would he betray their wishes? Why would he choose to head the charge for the Perrench?' He could see in the eyes of some, who already condemned him as a turncoat. But an equal amount looked upon him with curiosity and even reluctance. 'Very well,' Leon thought, 'I shall put on a mask I haven't donned in a good while: Leon Solaire, the Revidian.' He floated up onto an elevated section of the square and delivered a speech to the lost Revidians:
"My fellow Revidians, take a look at what this school has become... You see what is happening in front of you. No doubt, you see the injustices happening before you; those held in custody, and those being silenced for speaking out against it. Maybe you are scared to act or try to defend it because that injustice calls itself one of us... But I know Revidia, I know the beauty of its rolling hills, I have tasted its wine, I have danced with its women and men alike. Through all my travels there is a reason I always come back there out of anywhere in the world... But I ask you now to look at the up toward the Forked Tower, where a girl was taken from her home in the early morning and held there without a word. The Perrench think that we condone this, that this is the work of the Central Alliance. I want you to tell me if that is the Revidia you know. I want you to tell me if that is a Revidia you can take pride in. I say no, that is not Revidia."
"To those who call themselves Revidian, I ask you to fight. What Revidia would we hope to inherit if we turn a blind eye to the corruption before us? But I am not asking you to fight Revidia or turn against the Central Alliance; only that you fight to remove a coward to hides behind their colours. Take up arms here and let it be known where the true Revidia stands. Follow me, follow my spear, and fight for its honour!"
Leon grabbed the Sun King mask from his belt and placed it on his head in preparation for the fight ahead. He couldn't rest until the sun shone upon a brighter world, he could think of no better starting point than cleaning up the place he called home.
- A short time into the tower, Leon and Zarina struggle with ghoulsilk. Leon uses a little too much of his RAS in the fight, needs to admit weakness to Zarina, and the performer's mask slips more in her presence.
Upon entering the tower, Leon and Zarina fought a fearsome scagbiist that guarded the entrance. But now, the scagbiist's skull was smashed. It died with an awful, ugly noise. Leon dug his heel out of scagbiist brains with no small amount of disgust shown on his face. He didn't want that to happen at all. But in the thick of the fight with a great beast’s ugly jaws bearing down upon him it was hard to keep merciful control.
Zarina threw her arms in the air. “Kicking? Dami-t, Leon.” she rubbed the temple of her nose as she looked at the dead animal.
"You think I wanted this to happen? I haven't killed a beast before in my life, I thought the big thing could take it. Can we carry on? I really don't want to think about it." The bravado in Leon's voice was pretty absent, there was genuine remorse in his tone. He continued to try and clean the blood off his boots on the stone floor. It didn’t help.
The two could have stood and talked on the morals of the matter. But the tower beckoned.
Zarina pursed her voice and sighed. “Right. Right.” she cooled off quickly enough. There had been enough death - human deaths, to make this an almost forgettable ordeal. She tapped his shoulder. “Let's go.” then, she looked to the stairs leading down. “Down is where I'd check first.”
Leon nodded in agreement. "You've had a good nose for things so far. I'll follow you down." And he reached to hold her hand in the descent, which was accepted. They had seen Rikard and Yvain wander into the tower alone just to disappear only moments later. The two didn’t want that happening.
The hallway was ancient and stony, but the stone had a strange, unnatural quality to it as Zarina and Leon progressed deeper down. They headed down the stairs until they reached the bottom. Before them lay an old stone hallway. It was dark and unlit, though faint, multicoloured light trickled in through an open archway. At the end of the hall was the statue of Lilith the Redeemed, two candles lit at her base.
Zarina stopped before the statue. “Would you believe me if I said she woke up once and nearly killed us with a stare?” she jested, although her stare lingered on Ahn-Dami.
Leon chuckled back. "The idea beggars belief, but from you I find myself struggling to think that was a lie."
“At a time like this, it'd be nice to get some Godly wisdom on what the fuck we should do with all of this. Fuuuuck.” tired and exasperated, she leaned her shoulder against the stony wall by her. “They fucking killed these stupid goons that were no threat to them. So easily too.” she began to rant, eyes still on the statue but she was clearly addressing Leon. “Am I crazy for thinking we should do better because of the power we have?”
Leon took a pause, finally confronted with what happened in that charge toward the tower. Having to think of the people he saw his companions kill. "I... I would like to say we could have done it without them. That I... we could take on those defenses ourselves and be fine. But I think I'm coming to understand that sometimes its unavoidable... Shit." It would be the first time Zarina heard Leon swear. "No, we can do better than that. I want to do much better than that, and I will." The was a surge of certainty in voice near the end.
He looked as if he were about to continue before Leon felt it: tendrils of some thing... subtly dropping down on him. Zarina felt it too. It was not accidental. It was not incidental. It was deliberate and stealthily done. The performer’s face dropped as he instinctively expelled flames from where it touched his skin. The tendrils heated to absurd temperatures and began to constrict.
Zarina was just about to respond until ... She froze. Whatever was dropping on them, she sensed it. “The fuck!” She instinctively side-stepped it and then tried to catch it via telekinesis. The moment that she tried to move it, it began to constrict, incredibly quickly and with absurd durability.
With an almost metallic 'ping', Leon’s tendrils snapped, but he found that there were yet more! He already has three layers of this unholy stuff on him! It began to constrict rapidly.
Meanwhile, Zarina looked up to notice where all this had come from. The movement caused it to constrict even faster. The sudden pain was too much and she noticed nothing. “Eshit!” Zarina was constricted, and she naturally resisted.
Leon burned further. The air around him, his skin, and his RAS reserve. He recklessly ejected fire from himself in a fight for freedom. Another layer snapped off. He was further burnt. The ghoulsilk constricted further.
Zarina, slightly panicked, opted to just teleport out of the stranglehold. She reappeared less than two yards away. The ghoulsilk constricted very aggressively now. There was less of it, however.
Leon’s two final layers popped and he was freed. He was rather badly scalded and even burnt in some places, but the infernal webbing was gone. But he didn’t delay, seeing Zarina still struggling, he rushed to free her too. Hands placed on Zarina, or rather the ghoulsilk strangling her, he burnt it.
The last layer gave way and Zarina was freed. Now, finally, they had a chance to see just what had spun such vile webbing, only... they couldn't see it.
"You look out for me, I look out for you. We can worry about what those others are doing when this is all done." Leon spoke in shorter breaths, the fear in his eyes quickly becoming apparent.
Shaken, panting but in one piece with wounds fading away by themselves. She was bent over with her hands over her knees as she nodded. “Yeah. Great idea.” she thumbed up. “Thanks for that, habibi.”
Leon and Zarina stood there in the flickering light of two small candles, Lilith the Redeemed's beatific face gazing, in shadow upon them. They appeared, momentarily, to be unmolested. The question was... what to do next?
Zarina slid her hand into the side of her head, scratching at her scalp. “Fuck it. I'll open up the real basement.” She inspected the current floor they were on and the various baubles they could work with. “I've been meaning to ask. You're fucking strong, but you run out of heat slowly. What's the deal there?”
Leon gave Zarina an uncharacteristic frown, he didn't want her to notice that. But then, realising the situation he was in, it eased and lightened. "Shit. I suppose it's unavoidable when you see me like this. When we get a moment, I'll need some time to rest and recharge... I don't recover like all of you." Leon still fruitlessly looked around for sources of danger. "But I don't think it's time to rest now. Let's get this basement open and hope we can close the door behind us."
“Oh.” Zarina seemed mildly surprised, but not too much. “Kinda like Zeno Sunny.” she remarked while sifting through the pages of the tome by the statue. “Last year we got to enjoy this place for a week. There was this whole puzzle involving colours, and-” she pointed right at the statue before licking the pointed finger to turn a new page. “her. Nearly killed us with her eyes, but a pleasant lady.” she hummed as she inspected the rest of the room. “I think there'll be a couple of things I'll have to pull upstairs. You wanna charge up before we get to that?”
The correct answer would have been 'exactly like Zeno Sunny'. But Leon didn't like that, I made him sound so... ordinary. So instead he replied "yeah, kind of." He lightened up more as Zarina talked about the basement puzzle. "You think she will wake up again? Even if she has deadly eyes, I would rather like to meet a god in person. I do wonder if a god could be charmed..." He trailed off in thought. "Right. Charging. I'll get onto it."
Zarina raised her brows in mild surprise. “Oh, you know it's Ahn-Dami? I definitely did not the first time.” She chuckled a tad nervously. “Given this is a revolution, I suppose the NDA isn't gonna matter.” she counted all the orbs and recalled the different combinations. An unforgottable experience, and oddly stressful for something so simple in hindsight. “The artifacts can drag them out, or at least project them or something. I think we could see her if we do this puzzle again. Or it was all a trick and part of the Forked Tower vacation special to make us feel extra unique.” she shrugged. “Good, simple times.”
"Oh, so she's Ahn-Dami? My guess would have been Ahn-Shune." Leon winked at Zarina with a smile. "You spoke of godly wisdom then said this statue woke up with a deathly stare. It was only reasonable to assume it was one of them."
"Good, simple times, eh?" Leon chuckled. "I would have liked to have seen those times. Been there to experience them. It seems every time I come to Ersand'Enise, the world is on the edge of calamity. Perhaps I'm a bad omen, despite my looks." He joked, but a twinge of regret was in his voice.
“You're right, I did.” Zarina nodded as she finished her inspection, still wary of any potential silk droppings. “We saw her too - Ahn-Shune. And her counterpart.” the memories elicited a few chuckles, almost manic ones. “It felt like we were tripping some serious balls.”
She returned to the base of the stairs, reinvigorated with energy as her wounds had since completely healed. “Or,” she raised her pointer finger before pressing it to the famous performer's chest. “The world needs a hero, and you so happen to be here at the right time.” she shot a mirthful grin at Leon.
Leon laughed along with Zarina. "Now, meeting three seems too much to be real. Maybe one of them was induced by something."
The performer smiled initially at Zarina's hero comment. "Well, a day at the beach would have been nice at least." He joked back. But then he stepped back with a furrowed brow and sat down in a meditative position. "I don't think I'd be much use of saving anything like I am now. I should get onto it."
- Finding that the tower’s guard scagbiist was coming back to life. Zarina and Leon enact a plan to tame it. Leon thinks its ugly, but the beast has a strange affection toward the performer.
Making it up to the entrance room, Zarina found the scagbiist lying there, as dead as ever, though... well, it was probably nothing. She remembered Leon having made quite the mess, though. She raced up the stairs to start undertaking the puzzle.
Zarina kept her eyes peeled for any of her friends and colleagues as she ascended the tower stairs until she passed the dead beast and headed for the first floor. Once there, she got to the staves. She recalled Yuliya being in charge of this phase. And the coordination between her and the rest of the group to start the orb puzzle. “Eshi, what's with this faculty and mega doom puzzles ...” she grumbled.
It was hazy, but it came back to Zarina and, on her first genuine try, she actually got it. The scagbiist in the foyer remained an eerie, dead thing, though at least it was rather far from the basement door...
Down there, as she activated the correct orb, she found Leon charged and ready. With two of them this would go much quicker. Now it remained to run back upstairs!
Zarina explained without too much context what to do to Leon before dashing back to the staffs for the next phase. Loads of cardio. Each time she passed the scagbiist, she cringed just a little more inside.
Zarina was laser-focused on her task and, as such, paid little attention to her surroundings as she dashed past the dead animal - which she'd honestoy been trying not to look at - and up the stairs. Leon, however, was a bit more aware, and he noticed the differences that had happened incrementally while Zarina had not. The scagbiist's skull was wholly intact!
While he was following Zarina so as not to get split up, Leon did little of the work. Instead being busy with his mediation. He looked at the scagbiist each time they passed with regret. Then he noticed the skull, he frowned and checked his bloodstained boot to see if it was still... well... bloodstained. "Hey Zarina, didn't that scagbiist look much worse after we fought it? It looks as though the skull is back together for some reason."
Zarina kept going when Leon spoke, figuring she could keep going as they exchanged. But when the Scagbiist came up, she quickly stopped and turned to check it out for herself. “Well, you did obliterate the skull-” She descended the stairs and eventually caught a glimpse of the beast. No blood, no pieces, just a whole dead animal. “Okay, what the eshit?” she approached the beast and sensed the chemical reactions occurring within the animal, enhanced by the hat she had been wearing. “First thing that's coming to my mind is something temporal. Which is baaaaaaaad.”
"Would you know if it's having some change on us? It looks as though its just affecting the beast for now." Leon looked up to Zarina from where he was closely inspecting the skull. "I'm not shabby with Binding magics. I could tie this thing up if you think there's a chance of it coming back to life or something."
Zarina took a closer look. The animal seemed... It was alive! While unconscious - perhaps resting - the scagbiist was very much alive. They needed a plan and quick.
Step 1 - Make a muzzle - Leon is up:
Sounds like a job for manifestation magic. Unfortunately, Leon was simply too distracted. He had been considering what song to play on the Lyre to calm the creature down and, lo and behold, he conjured... a lyre, but it was... an electric one. It was... sirrahi tech. How cool! He pocketed it. But then shrugged at Zarina, he failed with manifestation.
“So ...” Zarina pursed her lips. “Just make one?”
"Sorry, I was feeling lucky." Leon whispered back apologetically. He was a little disappointed that she didn’t find the electric lyre at least a little impressive, even if it wasn’t exactly what they wanted. He resorted to muzzle conjuring using binding instead.
Step 2 - Put the muzzle on - Zarina to help:
Upon seeing a perfectly good muzzle being made the old fashion way, Zarina thumbed up. “I think that was just this guy's breath.” she then helped him slide it into that grotesque maw.
Zarina's hands were steady as she delicately slipped the muzzle over its face. It stirred somewhat but remained asleep. The animal shifted and let out a snort. By the gods, it was ugly! One of its hind legs kicked, as if it were in a dream. It remained, somehow, asleep.
Step 3 - Serenade the beast - Leon was born for it:
Leon began a Delicate song on the Lyre. One that would heal his wounds in the process. The song is soft and gentle, the animal's ears perked up after a bit and it rolled onto its side, wheezing in its sleep. But, by Ipte, it is one ugly bastard!
Step 4 - Use internal chem - Zarina is up (and Nibbler):
The scagbiist began to purr. It tucked its arms and legs in. It went to lick its lips and… It noticed the muzzle! The scagbiist's eyes flickered open. They were beady black things within pink folds of flesh. Oirase must've been drunk when she made this thing!
Step 5 - Tame the beast - All together now:
It tried to open its mouth and began to panic, but Leon's music and Zarina's chemical magic seemed to ease some of that. It rises suddenly.
“The muzzle.” she mouthed.
The scagbiist began stalking toward Leon. Its tail flicked back and forth almost.. rhythmically, whiplike. It was an ugly, hairless tail with a bristly tuft on the end, clearly designed by Exiran when he was filling in for Oirase.
Leon is less than impressed by how this thing looks. But a lifetime on stage helps keep a smile. He continued to play, nodding to Zarina with the muzzle to release it. It wasn't that he trusted the ugly beast, it was that he was confident in his ability to defend himself. Zarina went for the latch. Leon would hold his nerve, hopefully.
The scagbiist drew closer, the muzzle sliding off. It sniffed at Leon and, for a moment, there was the hint of a sound. Both he and Zarina feel it: a fuzziness in their manas. They could still break and run if they wanted to.
Zarina did not run and was prepared to act if things got bad. The performer on the other hand was getting less sure by the second. His smile was uneasy at this point. He really fucking hoped Zarina was right on this. He held still.
The scagbiist opened its mouth as it approached, and Leon could smell its foul breath. This was breath to make even Shune blush. By the gods, this thing was ugly to all senses! Its tail flicked back and forth. His magic continued to dull. Zarina's magic continued to dull.
Zarina prepared a fail-safe. She attempted to temporally anchor him here and now, and hold it for a few seconds. It failed
As the thing drew closer, so did Leon's preparedness to defend himself. He wouldn't run, but it wasn't going to lunge at him without a fight. He continued to play, but his favoured kicking leg was primed.
All at once, the scagbiist darted in, about to leap onto Leon!
Nope! Leon’s nerve gave out immediately and he ran.
The scagbiist's mouth yawned open and its tongue shot out, wet and sloppy. It missed and skidded across the floor becoming startled. That seemed to shake it - somewhat - out of its agreeable mood. Its head turned and it snorted, the magic dampening beginning to ramp up. It let out a whining noise and what an ugly sound that was! What had Dami been thinking, allowing such a thing to be created!? It was abhorrent to all senses.
Leon continued the song. "Zarina!? Do the taming thing please…!" The scagbiist turned and stalked toward him again.
Zarina pinched the bridge of her nose. “Gods fucking damn it.” she stood straight and observed the beast's movements. “Play again.”She whistled at the beast and turned its head. The animal paid attention to her, but it wasn't pacified in the slightest.
Leon's song came in again, shaky at first, but then steadier. Caught between who to gravitate towards, the scagbiist let out a moaning whine. Its tail flicked about in agitation. After a moment of hesitation, it lunged towards Zarina!
Zarina didn't dodge, but she wasn't going to be stupid either. She generated higher scale growth on her left forearm, under her sleeve, just in case. Its jaws snapped shut inches from her and it lowered itself into a springing position, tail flicking some more.
Zarina hummed the same tune that Leon was playing. Soft and honeyed. She continued to excrete the same chemicals she had used to 'imprint' when it was unconscious to identify herself as something pleasant, potentially safe and akin to whatever had been feeding it. Slowly, she approached her now scaly hand near its snout. “Shh, shh, you're a good ugly little shit, aren't you? M'hm.”
The scagbiist tilted its hideous head to one side. Holy shit was it ugly! It lunged again, almost playfully, but there was a touch of aggression there too. It let out an unhappy noise and began to losee interest as the gentle music played. “Hmmm.” Zarina took note of the animal's energetic state and its body language. “Got anything upbeat? But, you know, not too intense?”
Leon seeing it a little more playful, by some interpretation, played a cheerful song instead. His music was... not his best, but scagbiists were not the most discerning creatures anyhow. Zarina waggled a stick around. The Scagbiist's beady little black eyes seized on it. Wow, those eyes were... not cute. It lunged again, this time for the stick.
Zarina actually withdrew the stick, waved it a bit to keep the beast's attention, before throwing it near the stairs leading up. The scagbiist bolted after it with surprising speed but, midway though, a discordant note from Leon caused it to stop and contort.
It regarded Leon intently for a moment, having lost interest in the stick. It began to stalk towards him. The performer continued playing his song while slowly moving toward Zarina and keeping his distance, balancing these as best as he could.
The beast's tail flicked back and forth excitedly. It lowered itself into a crouch as it stalked its 'prey'. It began to let loose with a loud purring sound but - my - was that purring ugly!
Leon tried his best to keep up the song. By now he figured out that the beast liked when he played notes off tune. But he couldn’t do that, his pride would not let him. Why did this thing have to love his mistakes more than his successes!? He was a little more at ease with the crouching, seeing what it did with Zarina. But still not entirely confident.
The scagbiist rushed up to Zarina and launched itself through the air. It did a barrel roll, midflight, and landed on its back, legs facing upward and squirming. It was showing its belly and purring. It was showing its belly and purring. It appeared... to wanted to be petted. Who would pet it better?
Zarina, unable to resist, provided the pets. And belly scritches. Leon stayed back from petting it. Unless the beast started to look unsettled, he would be reluctant to get close.
The sacgbiist rolled a bit in his direction and looked up at him sadly. “Awww, he-” Zarina blinked and checked. “Yeah, he- Wants a little cuddle. C'mon.”
"Do I have to?"
“Yes.” Nibbler hid in Zarina’s bag. Very much unhappy with this.
Uneasy at first and overly cautious, Leon inched his way toward the excessively ugly beast and pet it reluctantly. It let out a happy little yowl and curled into a crescent, rolling over. It went to sniff Leon. It went to sniff Zarina. The magic dampening, in the meantime, faded.
“See? All happy.” Zarina cooed. “We should give him a name.” The scagniist looked at her expectantly and tilted its godawfully ugly head.
"I guess you were right after all. I guess..." He trailed off, not really thinking of a name. The scagbiist went to lick him. Leon let the lick happen. This thing was ungodly levels of ugly, but it was being affectionate. There were hints of a smile on his face, but he wasn't going to give Zarina the satisfaction. The scagbiist nuzzled in, purring.
“How about ...” she tapped her chin, quite pensive. “Either Squiggles or Pete.”
"Pete sounds nice."
Zarina made a funny face and giggled. “Wanna snap his chain?” Pete pawed at his chain and looked glum. He horked up a wad of phlegm onto the floor and wagged his tail. Leon did exactly that. Put his hand on the chain link some distance from his neck and melted it away.
“There you go.” Zarina cooed. She reached out with the gift to get a hold of the chain. In no way was she going to let the animal break away where there were people. With that, Zarina had - partially - tamed a scagbiist, though she would have to feed it soon. For the time being, it seemed happy to follow her and Leon. They still had a riddle to complete, however. Well, a riddle consisting of colours. “Okay.” Zarina stood back up. “Back to what we were doing ...”
"Agreed"
- Leon and Zarina open the Time Chamber and fish out their friends from alternate realities. Pete eats ham. In the chamber, Leon takes notes some of the more interesting alternate realities. - Pete and Laska make quick friends, Pete and Seviin... not so much. - With everyone together, the group head out for their final fights.
It took them ten minutes and a number of failures, though their failure counter never reached zero. Then, as they stood by Lilith, they suddenly found themselves standing, instead, in an entirely different sort of room. Behold: THE CHAMBER OF SPACE AND TIME!... Pete sniffed at Zarina's bag.
Zarina stretched and yawned after arriving in the fabled chamber. Casual, like this was just Lepdes afternoon, and examined the orbs- She noticed the sniffs! “Tsk, no Pete.” She pointed an authoritative at it to assert herself. “We'll find you some food. Soon.” She looked over at Leon. Pete looked surly.
Leon summoned some prime pork cuts for Pete but was quick to place them on the floor for him. He did not want the beast eating from his hands. Zarina seized it quickly with kinetic magic and pulled it toward her hand. If there was feeding, she wanted to be sure it knew who provided.
"Better to feed him here I suppose." Leon tried not to judge Zarina for choosing to hand feed, but there was a little bit in his eyes. Either she was one of the best animal tamers he had seen or the luckiest.
Pete gobbled it up easily. If he wasn't thrilled about the ham, he was happy just to eat. Meanwhile, the mystery of the chamber beckoned to them. It was a pocket dimension, after all, with the ability to access other pocket dimensions.
"This is my second pocket dimension of the week if you can believe it. But this one looks much different." Leon looked back to Zarina after his eyes wandered the area. "Is this a 'don't touch anything unless you know what it does' kind of situation?"
“I can believe it.” Zarina answered nonchalantly. “It's a 'Do what you think is right' sort of deal.” she continued to give Pete some validating scritches before standing up to watch Leon's decision.
It didn't take Leon long to associate the colours with the schools of magic but that was not any more helpful. Was there supposed to be a set order of things? 'Do what you think is right', well he didn't feel any supernatural or esoteric pull to either end of the room. "Alright, I'll give it a go then." There was excitement in his voice.
He approached the Arcane orange end of the room, hoping to interact with it. Whatever interacting with it meant. For a moment, Leon thought he sensed something, but it was just Pete messing with him. Then, the arcane orb lit up and hummed warmly at Leon's touch.
Feeling Arcane power go into him, Leon touched it again. The orb shut off. “Nice one there.” Ignoring Zarina’s comment, he touched the orb yet again. The arcane orb hummed, once more, with warmth and power."This place is wonderful. I'm jealous I couldn't be here earlier, without the weight of a revolution over my head." He said with amusement.
Zarina went for the green one. “Don't tell the others, but I almost forgot we were in a revolution.” She twisted to regard him. “Almost.”
"I wish we could linger here a moment longer, But one should be cautious of dancing too long, its easy to be swept up in the fantasy."
On the wall, a clock appeared. It started to ticking down: one minute. Forty-nine seconds. Forty-eight seconds. They were on a timer now, no time for idle chit-chat.
On their first attempt, they tried going to the schools that they were proficient with. Leon to Arcane, Binding, and Dark. Leaving Zarina to do Kinetic, Atomic, Magnetic, Temporal, and Chemical.
But the plan was halted when Leon saw activating Dark meant turning off Temporal. The room required opposing schools to be activated at the same time. This left a problem, Magnetic and Chemical opposed each other and Leon could do neither.
With some quick thinking, Zarina tossed Nibbler at the Chemical orb who would be able to activate it. But doing so also activated Pete’s sense of smell, and he was craving a Nibbler sized animal. Leon was only just able to summon the magnificent VOID ham in time to tossed it to the scagbiist. Perhaps it was an apology for shattering his skull earlier today, he still felt weird and bad about that.
On their second and final attempt, Zarina, Leon, and Nibbler were able to activate the chamber seconds before a bored Pete was able to tackle Leon away from the task.
Leon pet Pete, still with some caution. The scagbiist rubbed up against him and purred.
C O N V E R G E N C E
Pete, however, was not the only thing that purred. The orbs began to hum and glow and then, in the centre of the strange room, the runes lit up. The platform began to rotate and, just as Leon and Zarina could hear voices upstairs as Desmond, Tommy, and Tku stumbled through the Forked Tower's doors, it let out a flash. For a moment, they could see hundreds of different realities, all at once. It was mind-bending. They were nearly overwhelmed, even the animals or, well, Nibbler, at least.
There were 212 realities where they'd already failed and either the academy or the world was destroyed. There were 36 where Desmond was dead and one where he had ascended to godhood. There were three where Zarina was a man and one where Leon was eeaiko. Marceline was the big bad in one and, in another, it was Kaureerah. There was a dimension where everyone they knew was a sentient dragon, themselves included. In one particular reality, everyone was painted purple and a further instance had them all completely normal, but with forked tongues.
Cawuio-Zast was the Zenith in one, and terribly corrupt. Most jarringly, Alassa Tojarra had both eyes in a certain version of the world, and she was heroic while Leon himself was a tyrant. Manfred was alive in a good few. In 27, Dory was some sort of demon queen, and Ismette in another six. There were a couple where Marz was an apathetic hippie and one where he had created the Bomb. Trypano was, blessedly, a skeleton in one, and oh so very happy about it. There was another where people's heads looked like boots and one more where the pets were the masters and the humans, eeaiko, yasoi, hegelans, and cazenax were mostly small and on leashes. In one, Juulet was a normal, well-adjusted girl with two legs named Juliette. Penny was the Zenith in another. Esmii was not short in a surprisingly normal one though, in that same one, an evil Xiuyang had murdered her family and usurped their positions. Roslyn was a pirate in seventeen of them. In another, she was an egg with legs, but everyone seemed to treat her normally.
It was, in all, bizarre. They would need to find the ones where their friends were trapped, however, and put an end to this madness so that they could return to the business of bringing the corrupt school administration to justice and rescuing Penny.
It was all too much to take in. But a few realities etched their way into the performer’s mind.
Then, Leon spotted it! He saw it!
There they were: the others racing up the tower, various degrees of lost. Yvain was petting a demon dog guiltily, since nobody else was watching. Rikard was busy battling the tier six demon Ataxhaman in a solo duel to the death... and winning. Trypano was racing up an endless staircase in her underwear, holding hands with Seviin. They did not see the seventy-eight Rosy threshers waiting for them up ahead. Edyta Laska had cornered a Tan-Zeno who'd tried to cast a spell on her and was punching the woman multiple times in the face.
Realities 377, 21A, Neo78, and B^). Those were the ones they needed to reel in! Zarina was tripping. She saw everything, but Leon seemed capable of locating those they cared about. “Shit, yeah, I see them too!”
Leon reached out mentally to manifest the tool he needed in this situation. The magic of manifestation never let him down when it counted. In his hand, he held the [INTERDIMENSIONAL FISHING ROD].
Leon would fish for Laska first, trying to stop the merciless beating that she was delivering to the Tan-Zeno. She was yanked from her dimension, knuckles still raw and bloody. She finished her swing and… connected straight with Leon's jaw. Her eyes widened in horror. "Oh my Oraff! I'm so sorry! Are you alright!?" She cast about wildly. "Wait a second... where's that b...ad person? I was giving her the beating she deserved. Not you!"
"I'll be fine, enough. No, no, don't worry about me." Zarina would notice that his voice had much more presentation to it now. Leon Solaire was speaking.
“Yo, suunei.” Zarina casually waved at the nun. “Before you lose your mind, the big animal is normal. Please don't strike it.”
"Zarina, I'm not some big anima... oh yes, right."
Edyta gazed upon the scagbiist. She blinked. "You have... a scagbiist?" She blinked again. "Wizard."
“Yeah, we have a Scagbiist.”
"Soo... what are you actually doing?" the nun inquired. "I remember us being separated..."
“Snatching people from where they ended up. Other worlds. 'N stuff.”
The Rezaindian nodded.
Leon would let Zarina explain and fish for Rikard. Even if he was winning at the moment, a fight to the death was a fight to the death. Zarina reached out for the rod to deflect it. “Wait, let the kiddo have this.”
Leon looked at her, lingered on it a bit, before going back to fish out Yvain this time. He just couldn't quite fish Yvain out. The boy was not done petting his (demon) dog. Leon switched his efforts to Seviin instead.
One moment, Seviin was holding Trypano's hand. The next, she was being pulled out through the VOID. Seviin maintained her grip and, moments later, she and Trypano tumbled in. The very first thing that she saw was… a Scagbiist. The girl let out a shriek and scrabbled backwards. Pete's ears shot upright. His beady little black eyes widened, if such a thing were possible. Zarina was quick to stand between the two. “Alright, no time to explain, someone help me get Seviin calmed. Leon, get Pete calm too.” Leon went for VOID ham maneuver in response. It needed to be done.
Seviin began to draw. She drew with all that she had. Pete sniffed. Then, there was a VOID Ham. Leon tossed the VOID ham Pete’s way, hoping it was his preference over Yasoi.
Pete eyed Seviin for a moment longer before trotting off toward the VOID ham. He took it up in his mouth, quite pleased, and began tearing chunks off of it.
Seeing, and hoping, the Zarina could handle the situation, Leon returned to look upon Rikard’s grand battle. He hadn't thought much of the boy when he ran into the tower but this combat was making him reconsider that impression. If it started to look dire for the boy, he would try to fish him out. But otherwise, he intended to respect Zarina's wishes even while she didn't have the ability to stop him.
Leon shuddered a little at seeing Rikard take a powerful blow, take some time, and hold. It was Zarina's wish, he couldn't be dissuaded by a small bump in the road. But then, Rikard seemed to have scored a decisive blow. The demon is fell to the ground, electrocuted and burnt.
Rikard stood atop the hulking corpse. It was the size of a monsigneus. He reached down and snapped off one of its horns. hundreds of tiny green people streamed out from their hovels nearby. they lifted him onto their shoulders and began parading him around.
That was Leon’s cue to fish him out. With that, Rikard was pulled form the midst of his joyous celebration, back into reality. "And I thought I was done for right..." He trailed off and regarded the others. He was still covered in demon guts and stank to high heavens. "So, I'm back in the dimension where I started?" he asked calmly.
"Thought it would be best to celebrate with familiar faces." Leon replied before he got a whiff of him. "Try to clean yourself up, would you?... Oh, and well done."
"Shall I... Heal it's wounds? You can trust I will take care not to overstep it's bounds. It's in all our best interests, after all." Someone asked Leon from behind his back. He assumed the voice was asking about Pete. "Sure thing, do what you can." He remarked absent-mindedly, mind occupied by fishing. But his brow furrowed not soon afterwards, Pete was not hurt and he realised who made the offer. The performer turned back to Trypano. "Wait, no, don't even go near Pete. I'll be frank, I don't trust you as far as I can throw you. Maybe you could help prove otherwise another time. But for now, Laska, could you make sure the almost naked one behaves? I need to focus on getting the blonde one back, it's been challenging."
Edyta's eyes flicked between the other two and the animal uneasily. She furrowed her brow. "I..." She walked over towards Pete, pulling something from her pocket and crouching in front of him. The scagbiist sniffed it tentatively and then more agreeably. Its great, slimy tongue flicked out and then its jaws closed greedily around the muffin. Edyta reached out and stroked the animal and he flinched only somewhat.
"Laska, you're a saint. He said with a smile before turning back to have another go at Yvain.
Finally, Yvain was pulled away from petting his demon dog, only to witness Edyta Laska rubbing the belly of a scagbiist. He blinked. "Who's a good boy!" Edyta cooed. "Who's a big suck?" Rikard crouched nearby.
"You seemed to be having a good time in there. Sorry for pulling you away but we need you." Despite his disagreements with what Leon saw the noble do, it came from the heart and he said it with a smile.
Yvain scowled. "I suppose this... scagbiist is supposed to be FrouFrou's substitute?" he sighed.
After all the effort of fishing, Leon didn't rush over. He just sat down, caught his breath, and watched the scene unfold before him. Seeing everyone back and getting along… reasonably well was good for the heart. It was at least some merriment before the coming storm.
After a good few minutes of break, he spoke up. "Luck has been on our side so far, Zarina. Shall we go put an end to this? Now that everyone is with us." The Sun King remarked, standing up to prepare himself for the fight ahead.
“Let's.” from joyful to solemn, Zarina marched with her friends and colleagues out to confront the menace.
- Leon and the group climbing the tower find themselves on a gender bending floor and rosebud confusing the senses to their full extent. Under pressure, Leon shows his feeling towards Kaureerah to Yuli. - Leon and the group make a bond in that room. And despite his misgivings to them from earlier, a four-way date is arranged with Leon, Yuli, Yvain, and Kaureerah. - This memory has been abandoned.
Leona Solaire enters the floor. "Well, I'm glad the group could stick together. Although, this is rather new... Why are you looking at me like that?"
"Another room's curse it seems. Could be worse, truth admitted." He greeted leon who had lagged behind only briefly. In truth there was new admiration for the female form but just like before it felt like something was missing. Sharper teeth maybe? A more alluring exoskeleton? His mind was left to wonder as he looked back to see how his newly changed comrades were fairing.
Yuri recognized vaguely who this was. The tanned skin, that gorgeous figure, nice and tall. Extremely alluring, in fact. He strutted over to her. "How about you and I go on ahead. Think we have more fun with just us two, hm?"
Leona was just watching the scene unfold with a fun curiosity. This was a oasis in the life or death situations the group had meet so far. Then Yuri approached him and could feel what the situation was like on the other foot. "You know, I don't seem to remember you being like this when the roles were reversed." Leona replied coyly and shot him a sly smile. "I wonder what has changed to make you so eager. Has the chest hair simply given you confidence?"
She tried to keep eye contact, but something drew her gaze over to Yvonne. A moment where she was flustered and even blushed, before wrenching her eyes back to Yuri.There was something more than simple attraction playing at the performer’s mind. "I... uh... besides, I have someone that I would... umm... like to keep to for the time being."
Yuri went to cup her face in his hands, but her attention was drew to Yvain, or Yvonne now, so he paused. A disappointment to be sure, but alas, it didn't matter for him. There was nothing he could do to combat the pheromones, he was utterly disappointing at either school that might aid their... aflictions here.
"Maybe it's the chest hair, maybe you look better like this, or just maybe, you didn't get to know me well enough." he winked at her, and leant on a nearby wall. He rummaged through his pockets lazily, before happening upon an interesting little malady he'd bought in Vossoriya. An aphrodisiac, in fact. When in a raging firestorm, throw a cataclysm on top? Perhaps that could aid their escape. The insults had left their mark, but this was a nice distraction.
Leona couldn't help it anymore, it was only a matter of time before she couldn't control her own actions. If she was going to go down, she was going to take someone with her, someone who could explain. She simply stood, walked over to Yuri, grabbed him by the collar, and kissed him passionately. "This doesn't leave this room. And if it does get out, we are explaining this to Kaureerah together."
Then, still grabbing Yuri's collar, she gave into the pull toward Yvonne. "Come with me," Leona lured Yuri in with her voice, she had given into the moment.
Yuri indulged himself, caught off guard by the sudden swing by this new Leon. And while the moment was intense, the moment that followed was regretful and guilty. He knew they had a thing - but he was under the assumption Kaureerah was... here and there. Still, his eyes fluttered and a light blush took his face. "What happens in forked tower, stays in forked tower." He slid the aphrodisiac potion back into his pocket, realizing it wouldn't help the situation at all.
And he let himself be dragged along by this assertive woman. Normally, he liked to be in the lead, but this was a welcome change of pace. Duty was back on the mind though, and Yvonne and Ivar were about to be victims of a rizzling. Not on his watch. Not with those outfits. And especially not by clones of the fucking Zenith.
Yuri walked to Ivar with intent, dragging Yvonne and Leona with him on either arm. "Ladies, help me. We can't lose I-var? Not if we want to keep going forward." he spoke, conviction in his tone and a clear mind. He marched to the lap-dancing male Ingrid, and shot him a glance. He spoke in Old Eskandish, a language not too disimilar to the one Ivar had been using during this entire intimate encounter.
"Woe upon thee who sheathes a rusty blade in a fresh scabbard. On your feet."
The seven other of the harem turned to face Yuri with an identical scowl on each one.
"You dare!"
"He dares!"
"So uncouth!"
"You're done, little girl."
"I'll make you mine."
Leona looked over to Yvonne and simply winked. She was still under the spell.
Yvonne... knew not enough about Chemical magic to help much and just blew a kiss towards Ivar...
Then her attention travelled towards Leona. "If you'll be good, we'll share a nice bottle of wine together."
"Whatever the heart desires."
Yvonne winked in response. "The heart shall receive."
Yuri’s words did not cut through the haze. He was lost, the pheromones and words held too much power. He looked to the ladies on his left and right, and to the larger lad that walked behind. "The heart wants what the heart wants, beauties. And my heart does not want to watch the massacre." He grimaced, as he turned face heel and went to leave this peculiar room with great haste.
The Perrench lady sighed. "Seems that the Eskandish are both bottoms on the map and in.... more intimate occasions." She couldn't help but snort a little.
"A wishful imagination fulfilled is nothing to interfere with." Leona continued out with the others. "He won't be the only one needing privacy."
Then she blinked, feeling a veil over her mind alleviated. "What happens in the forked tower, stays in the forked tower eh."
"We're still in the tower, little miss sunshine. Three of us grab some wine when this is over?" he winked at her, and then at Yvonne.
Yvonne regarded Leona's comment. "Only if you want it to stay here."
"Why that sounds wonderful." She answered Yuri's offer.
"Its a tempting offer. I might have to bring a plus one." Leona said with a sly smile. Although the thought of tasting only burnt wine made her want to jump off the tower.
- Leon, under fire from Quantum Upta's visions of alternate realities, loses his mind and tries to kill everyone. He is mercy killed by Jocasta. - This memory has been abandoned.
The vast expanse of the universes unravel right before Leon in an instant. An overwhelming amount of information flood into his mind. The horrors of the endless expanse of the universe creep in.
Bombarded with the thoughts of his own failures, everything pressing down on him that meant he would amount to nothing. He repeatedly brought his full force down upon the second Upta in a frenzy. Why wouldn't she just die?
But then, it became one vision too many. He looked back at his companions knowing the infinite span of their betrayals, abondonments, and hate. Hate welled up in his own heart as he looked upon them with disdain. All of them. The Sun was unleashed, and he exploded.
"Sorry, Leon, but you're anchored." Before much harm could be done, Jocasta killed Leon with dispassion in her eyes. "Pull yourself together."
- Leon rides balloons with Ingrid and the rest of the Upta Squad into the realm of the Eleven Nations gods. Given the option to turn Pete into a person, Leon accepts in the believe that Pete remaining a scagbiist could cost lives. The performer thinks its the right choice, but regrets it in his heart. He had cared for the big, ugly, silly, & sweet beast.
Thanks to the efforts of dozens of zenos and biros, even those who'd fought against Iptacht, the badly damaged tower was restored. It stood there, stalwart and... it seemed almost to begin healing itself now that it was stabilized. However, there was no saving the Violet Gate. The portal flared and became unstable, and those closest to it, who had been busy saving the tower, found themselves being sucked into... whatever lay beyond it.
Leon found himself at the precipice. All of his friends had been sucked in, but for Jocasta. The question was present to him, does he follow? "Godsdammit," Jocasta hisses. She glances at Leon. "We've gotta save them."
The performer paused. He looked back upon a peaceful tower top and remembered at that moment why he had chosen to take on Upta in the first place. The stage was set for him, it was the perfect opportunity to enact the plan he had been set on since the beginning of the revolution.
But then he thought about Kaureerah. He thought about Zarina. He thought about Pete, Carm, Jomurr, Dory, Ingrid, the friends new and old he had made in Ersand’Enise. Just this once, he would turn his back on the plan. The revolution wasn’t truly over, not while his friends were lost in the portal before him. There were doubts in his mind that pulled him back certainly, but Leon let himself be taken by the portal. No matter where it may lead…
What Leon didn’t expect was to be transported into an ethereal realm of balloons. He could hear Yuli, Yvain, Ingrid, and Trypano safe and talking about some kind of puzzle. But Leon simply decided to grab a balloon and follow it, wherever it may lead.
Ingrid wanted to go with the balloons, being all whimsical and shit. So Leon reach out to bring her along for the ride. "I have to say, this is not where I was expecting to meet you again." Leon said with a chuckle before looking up toward where the balloon was taking them.
"You know this still isn't the strangest void I've been in this year?" Ingrid laughed at her crazy life.
"Tell me about it sometime. It sounds like the start of a song." Leon replied with a wink. He tried his best not to point out that the bookworm was almost completely naked.
"Well we can bring in some Rettanese music if we want to make it authentic," Ingrid said with a smile. Seems he just like winking. Maybe it was an eye condition
Leon and Ingrid, just as their rings tick down to a mere sliver and they find that it is near-impossible to hold their balloons on, emerge from grey into darkness. However, this time, the transition is different. The rings disappear and they are in a night sky, miles above the ground. Cold air rushes past their ears and their hair flutters. They are no longer traveling up, but down! They are falling, and quickly!
Leon enjoyed the descent with a joyful laugh. He could fly, of course, and he could probably catch Ingrid as well. Now it was time to enjoy a job well done. She allowed herself to be caught, "Why thank you." Ingrid looked at the sky so empty of people, "Do you think they are still stuck up there?"
"They'll be fine. How could you resist the urge to ride the balloons?"
"Knowing Yuliya, she fought the balloons," Ingrid smirked.
Leon's brow furrowed for a bit, irked by something. But then the feeling passed and he laughed. "You are probably right!"
In rapid succession, Yvain, Yuliya, Trypano, and Jocasta find their environment fading from grey to white. The balloons promptly disappear as do the final remnants of their rings. They emerge into the glare of a brilliant morning sunrise, high up in the sky at the edge of space. They continue shooting upwards and it is cold even though they can sense that warmth is coming. It is cold and the air is very thin. Then... they begin to fall.
"Look! They made it!" Ingrid squeezed him a little.
"... where are they?" Even if the rest had appeared, they were still far too far for human perception.
Leon realised, when he landed with Ingrid in a princess carry, that there was virtually no weight on his arms. Ingrid knew how to fly the whole time and chuckled before letting back down to her feet.
Once landed she stood out of his arms, "Can't blame a girl. I've only been held once apparently."
"There is no shame to be had in it. It makes falling from the heavens more fun after all." Leon joked.
"It definitely had style," Ingrid laughed. This was fun. A breeze came by and she shivered. She looked down to just see tits. "Jag är naken!"
They touched down on an island just as another group were emerging from the sea, having been borned there on a great wave. One group of familiar faces was already standing on the beach in makeshift clothing though, among them was... Kaureerah!? No, it was another eeaiko girl: smaller and paler. The beachgoers seemed to include Penny, Ashon, Roslyn, Xiuyang, Esmii, Guy, and the unknown eeaiko girl. They noticed a huge bristly fish just off of the coast, staring at the others forlornly.
Leon looked toward the other group approaching. Ingrid would notice Leon's face light up even more for a moment, before returning back to normal, perhaps a trace of disappointment.
"By the way Ingrid. Did you want me to bind you some clothes?"
Penny blinked. "Me or Xiuyang can like... make you clothes?" she offered to some of the... less-attired ones. Then, she noticed Leon. "Actually, you know what? You've got first right on that one, buddy."
But Leon didn't look to be channelling binding. He instead made hand movements like a magician, one who pretends to be a mage with flair, as he made some clothes appear from the glorious well of manifestation… And it was a potato sack and a rope…
Ingrid had been given quite literally a potato sack and a rope. "Thank you?" It would do. She wears the potato sack and ties it at the waist. Defining the waist is key!
"I'm sorry Ingrid." Leon turned back to the group, he could see that she was happy with the apparel, but he wasn’t. "Penny, Xiuyang, could one of you please help me out? I don't want to commit crimes against fashion here." It was against Leon's pride to let Ingrid wear a vegetable bag.
Ingrid liked her potato sack. It was a short skirt now!
Xiuyang sighed. There was so much to take stock of. She hadn't even fully processed that Penny was with them until just a moment ago, and now she was being told that Joshe Intaba was apparently alive and well. Two animals had become humanoids, at least temporarily in this... dreamlike space? That was how she was coping, at least. Of course the scagbiist-turned-cazenax could speak perfect Avincian, and knew exactly what was going on: they were all going to meet with some gods now. Sure, why not?
"I feel like I'm on drugs," Xiuyang remarked, getting an eyeful of Ingrid wearing a potato sack for some unholy reason. "Alright, Leon. I'd better hear some gratitude, though, or I'm gonna start charging for these," she japed, and set about making simple cotton robes in basic colors for everyone. She handed them out to the ladies first, starting with Ingrid and Trypano. "It's not something a noble would wear, but it's at least not abrasive," she said as she gave Ingrid a green one. "If we're really going to meet with gods, please wear something," she reasoned with Trypano, giving her a red one.
Leon let out a sigh of relief, grateful to Xiuyang for absolving him of his crime against fashion. He needed to get better and manifesting fine clothing.
Pete came tumbling from the sky with a whimper, completely out of control and - if such a thing were possible - even uglier than usual. Leon flew up and caught Pete in a princess carry before quickly realising the scagbiist was too heavy and setting him down. Pete licked him, right across the face. The beast was so fucking ugly... so why was the performer forming the faintest of smiles in with him around?
Pete ran circles around Leon. Was he guarding Leon? Was he being playful? Was he just chasing his own tail? Clearly, he was not loved for his brains, so... was it for his beauty?
Leon had... no fucking clue what Pete was doing now. He looked to Zarina for help.
"It would seem that his demise was greatly exaggerated. I suspect it might of been the work of the Zenith but luckily for us he pulled through and with the Lantern of Shune-Zept no less." She cast a look over to Leon and the Scagbiist. "Ah, glad to see he made it. Here, I think he deserves a reward." She bound together a handful of thresher meat and tossed it over to Leon. "Here!"
For reasons unknown, Pete began digging. The scagbiist made a whining noise.
But then, Guy thinks about giving the egg he picked up to Pete. He made the offer to Leon to feed the egg to Pete. "He will turn into a person, by the way," he warns Leon.
Pete began sniffing around. The meat smelled tasty, but there were also... eggs. Pete loved eggs.
Leon thought carefully about it, stuck on making a decision. What exactly did that mean? Turning Pete into a person. He wanted to think about Pete and how he would feel. But he couldn’t read the expressions of such a beast. Would he be happier if he was a person or a scagbiist?
But then he looked a Seviin, the mere form of a scagbiist caused her to have a panic attack. Scagbiists feed on people and it was only a matter of time before Pete got tired of void ham. Surely, he wouldn't be a cannibal if he was a human.
Perhaps there was a more important matter in this decision than Pete’s happiness, than his own happiness. Maybe it was simply the case that he must. It is what the Sun King would do.
"Feed it to him Guy."
Pete went to lap up the broken egg eagerly. He lapped it up and then… There was a spray of sand and a loud 'pop'.
Guy looks at Tekah, "Don't do what I do, you're smarter than me."
Then, sitting there in the sand, coughing and brushing it off, was a tall, lanky, middle-aged cazenax. He scratched at the back of his mostly-bald head and then he seemed to notice the others. His eyes darted about. "Holy canaxi!" he exclaimed as they went wide. "What'd I do to become the centre of the universe... not that I'm complaining..." He was dressed in silk clothes that had once been fine but were looking a bit rough for wear, with a gold chain that was almost certainly fake. He picked at something between his teeth and stood.
Trypano gave an excited clap. "My, I positively cannot identify the magic employed here!" She beamed.
"It's friendship, lady. That's the magic. Gods, I'm fuckin' famished," he remarked, shoving the finger that had been in his mouth into his ear to pick some sand out.
Leon was surprised to see that the dog he had once seen as 'ugly-cute' was now a middle aged man older, and probably more wise, than him.
"I'm sure that's what resulted in the laying of said eggs but perhaps more is to be explored in that topic." She gave a look over to the remainder of the eggs. "I wonder what it could do to a slime..."
"Well ain't you a... type," Pete remarked. "Anyways, food." His face was lined and craggy. His teeth were crooked. One of his eyes was a bit squinty. But his claws were sharp. He gave off a strange aura that seemed to make them feel... weak.
"I... have some thresher meat here if you still like that? Maybe you would want it cooked?"
"Thresher meat?!" Tekah played up her fear and surprise.
Pete licked his lips and winked.
"Did you... want it cooked?" He looked to Zarina for help, she was occupied, even then he doubted this was in her realm of expertise anymore.
"Oh, yeah. Whaddya think I am? Some kinda barbarian?" Pete grinned and reached up to punch Leon fondly on the shoulder. "I'm just messin' with ya, big guy but, yeah, I like my food cooked."
Leon was dumb-founded but grinned back uneasy. At least he didn't want to eat people anymore, he hoped. He went to make a fire.
"I still have arcane, need help?" Roslyn asked, waiting for an answer before she followed.
"Sure, come help."
Leon looked over the fire with an empty feeling in his soul. Sure, Pete was behind him, waiting on the meal that was being cooked. But it wasn’t the scagbiist Pete, the sweet if tragically ugly dog that had started to grow on him. No, it was Pete the middle-aged Cazenax, who Leon had little in common with. He found the stomach-sinking feeling of regret well up inside him, one that usually comes when you lose someone, and he did. Leon had killed Pete the scagbiist a second time; after he had gotten to love the beast. Even if his reasoning was sound, he still felt bad.
Pete quieted down after a few moments. "Youse guys know where we're at, right?" He looked up at the stars. He scratched his ass. A stillness came over him then and his voice lost some of its rougher qualities. "This is a sacred place, well, if you're from the eleven nations." He sniffed. "Good people. Good food." He fiddled with one of his buttons. "They's got three gods, well... kinda." He turned back to the others. "I'm thinking y'all are either really headed for greatness or you're gonna die, 'cause those gods are gonna show up anytime now. Youse guys respect their shit, okay?" He straightened his collar in an utterly ill-begotten attempt to make himself look presentable. This was impossible, of course, for he was Pete.
- Leon, Zarina, & Ingrid meet the Dragon God of the Eleven Nations. Leon is pleased to find that himself and the dragon see the same way on a lot of things and get along well. - After attaining the dragon's power, Leon offers for it to look upon his actions thinking that it could prove entertaining for the god.
The arms of the Old Mother beckoned to the nine who had been summoned by her and they began to rise into the sky. Light turned to darkness, lit by an endless blanket of stars, and the air grew cooler. They warded off the cold with the magics at their disposal. The journey was not short, however, and soon the land below was but a speck and the vast apparition before them was everything. Each arrived at around the same time and the immense arms of the Mother swept in to gather her children. They found themselves in an alpine meadow overlooking a small, crystal clear pond ringed by spruce trees. Within this setting, there lay five sacred animals.
Leon, Zarina, and Ingrid had all picked the same option and found themselves walking the same path. The three approached the mighty dragon and, sitting atop its horde of gold and gemstones, it turned to regard them, its reptilian eyes calculating. "Do you humans not know that you gaze upon death?" Its tongue flicked out and it loosened its wings.
Zarina stood firm, immovable. "It wouldn't be the first time." she stated confidently. "I am not afraid." her eyes stared right into the dragon's, with her pupils thinning to an almost reptilian slit. Almost.
"Death? Perhaps. But I also see majesty, beauty, and power." Leon praised the dragon earnestly. "I simply felt compelled toward you." Is he trying to charm the divine dragon?
Ingrid stared in awe of the dragon, Sven if only you could see this too. She gulped at its comment, "I come not for your treasure but to maybe learn." Secretly, Ingrid wanted to learn how to get all that gold herself.
The dragon reared up, then, a glow building in the back of its throat and its great wings spreading in an explosion of colour. It seemed, suddenly, three times the size it had been. Three different individuals and three different responses. "And not a one of you frightened," it remarked. "I suppose I am rather wise and majestic," it 'conceded' with a hint of a devious smirk. Then, all at once, it reared back and a great cone of flame shot out to blanket the trio!
Zarina's internal chemistry went to work the moment she felt an incoming threat. Scales were made to grow on parts of her body they were not meant to at the strange she was, and hardened as well. The light bumps hiding in her hair pushed out to form the cutest little horns, still far from the glorious curvature they reached in her bigger forms. Her clothes weren't so lucky, and her messenger bag containing Nibbler was clutched tightly by a particularly reinforced arm.
"Not again," Ingrid drew and drew, knowing she could be safe but then it hit her. She can't draw this away she had to use it or else it will explode on Zarina and Leon. She tried her best to push against the dragon's flame, futile as it may be. I'm not dying to a fucking lizard.
The majesty of the dragons multicolored form left Leon in awe. As a Sunblessed, he was unable to draw the flame safely, so he redirected to swirl around him, showing the dragon some theatrics of his own. He reached out to touch the warmth of the flame. Perhaps divine dragon breath had some esoteric benefits that he couldn't grasp. The dragon's flames faded and the entire trio remained unburnt. "Well, you didn't flinch, at least," it allowed. "And you, sun man, you had the right idea." It nodded in approval. "Strength is not only about raw power. It's about the appearance of such and about decisiveness." It stalked forward, towards them, closing in, smoke curling from its nostrils.
Leon smiled back at the dragon. "It was my pleasure." He took a bow. Maybe the performer should have been nervous about the approaching dragon, like he was with Pete. But Leon saw a kindred spirit in the dragon's words and trusted him for it.
Zarina shrugged. "Dragons don't have to play pretend, now do they?" she stated, perhaps a bit too overconfident. She realized this, and bowed her head. "Then again, I'm but a dragonling. I thank you for your wisdom, dear elder."
The dragon snorted, most displeased! "Who are you calling old!?" it rejoined, "I am but a sprightly eighty-seven, I will have you know." Then, it smiled in its draconic manner. "Oh, but I understand well your intent." It laughed faintly. "You will find, incidentally, that you already posses the gift that I have given. "Might anyone guess how?"
"Because we had it in our hearts to begin with?" Leon guessed, perhaps having read one too many kids stories growing up.
This time Zarina actually flinched. "Oh." she scratched one of her small head-nubs. "Then I'm a baby. Err," she raised her hands in another, more exaggerated shrug. "Googoo gaga?"
The reveal that they were blessed brought Zarina to inspect her being. Leon's response had her crack up. "If that's not the answer I will be a little disappointed." she remained giggly for a little bit. "I dunno, something about not burning horribly after being doused in fire?"
The dragon stopped in front of Leon and guffawed. "More or less," it told Zarina. "Friendship isn't worth very much to a dragon though... I suppose it is a nice thing to have." For a moment, its eyes glossed over. Then, it returned to them. "You were doused in dragon's fyre and did not burn." It inclined its head. "The gift is yours."
Leon was a little let down by the real answer. But the gift of the grandiose dragon was his, he was still happy with that.
"Ah, yes of course, I thank you for this gift. If you have the ability, I invite you to watch and see what I can achieve with it."
Once again, Zarina bowed her head in gratitude and humility, although she failed to shed the amused grin on her face. "Nice hoard, by the way." she looked up with a sly look on her more draconic eyes. "You know I always thought that was a myth. Do you have a favourite treasure you're dying to show off?"
"Perhaps I shall, for you, too, Leon Solaire, are a treasure." It turned to Zarina. "The rest is off limits. Get your own hoard, hatchling." It winked and turned to Ingrid. "And be bold." It smiled and, with three great beats of its wings rose and soared away.
Ingrid did a bow as well and when the idea of a favorite treasure was brought up Ingrid's eye's glowed, "That's an excellent idea!" Ingrid turned to the dragon, "You have to have something that is your favorite!" And then it left, leaving Ingrid being a little pouty but in the end, Ingrid stood tall, all 6'4 of her.
Leon watched the dragon fly away gracefully. Gods, he loved that dragon, what a charming guy!
"Assuming malice, much!" pouted Zarina as she waved the dragged goodbye. "Now I kinda wanna hoard shinies. Be a good ol' Loot Cazenax." she grinned cheekily at the other two with her. "Hey, Leon, you got a nice gem a day ago, right?"
Leon snapped out of his admiration and turned to Zarina. "I got a few actually." He grinned cheekily. "Why, are you looking to start your hoard?"
"Yeah." Zarina snapped sassily. "I just said that. And now I'm gonna take aaaaaaaallllllll your goodies, lyre boy." she raised her gauntlet-layered hands and wiggled her fingers as if she was about to snatch something.
"Oh no. I am simply powerless before your draconic might." Leon played the damsel-in-distress to play along with, what he assumed to be, Zarina's joke. "How could I have known the dragon would like me better?" He shot Zarina another cheeky smile and with that, the performer dashed playfully back down the mountain. "Catch me if you can!"
A Foreword: "Hi, my name is John Darklaw - Astral Attorney, here to give a statement from my client, Dami-Zept. Dami-Zept would like to remind the reader of this post that the Cazenax given platform is a wanted felon and a crippling gambling addict. Therefore, he urges the reader to not heed his words, which should be regarded as nothing more than criminally bad advice. Legal action is currently being considered by the Astral Court on the grounds of slander & liable among other, more egregious, criminal acts. This will be actioned upon us mailing a summons to Cawuio-Zast's postal address."
"Thank you for your time."
"I'm sure the concept is nothing strange to you Tommy, but when life sets dice before you, you roll em and once you've rolled them, you keep rolling em. Some call this a gambling addiction but it isn't the case. To roll the dice is to open yourself up to great happiness or startling lows. But even those lows have the benefit of inspiring hunger, and hunger motivates."
"Whether you win or lose, rolling the dice is participating in what makes us who we are. Highs, lows, the journey fulfills us. It is only cowards that avoid the gamble and seek a boring, stagnant life. But you can't ignore the dice, Tommy. The dice will be rolled regardless of what you want, better you to be the one that casts the die on your life before someone else does it for you. So if life hands you dice, you choose to roll em."
"What I'm saying Tommy, is that you may as well bet your life savings on 37. When you win big, Uncle Zast will only take 10% for the tip."
"You believe in the Pentad, don't ya Cal? Well let me tell you this. In all the ten gods of the Pentad, there is none weaker than Dami-Zept. He is so weak that people often give him credit for the works of Eshiran, the strongest of the five. In truth, while Dami-Zept sees all, he is rarely able to act on it... What I'm saying Cal, is that Dami-Zept has small, weak, little baby hands and is only able to grab idiots that get complacent. He is no threat to guys like us."
"Remember Cal, justice is only made manifest by the minds of lesser men. I don't know what it means Cal, I heard it from an old sailor one day. But its some cold shit to say before you shoot someone."
"Cal, don't you find it funny that in Constantian stories, the villain is often the one who starts the whole thing. The heroes only seem to care when the people around them whine hard enough. I've met these people Cal; they're cowards and often frauds."
"I've never been one to care about the direction society is going. My success carries on regardless of what people believe. But you do seem to care, so I'll tell ya this. Strike first, because lesser people won't. Strike hard, so that these 'heroes' aren't able to bravely defend the same old thing. If all works out, write a book or something. Not that I'd read it."
"Listen Fiske, there are two types of people in this world, selfish ones and dishonest ones who play pretend. Even charity is a selfish act, many are nobles who aren't doing it for the good of others but to clear their own conscience and raise their public image. So if everything is, in fact, a selfish act, is it not our duty to serve ourselves foremost in action and live wonderously?"
"Look here Fiske, by now you've probably figured out that I'm not actually storing all this stuff in my jacket. I can pull anything I need from the VOID. So in short, I already have everything I could ever want. So that brings the question, why not summon a bunch of money and become king in a day? Go ahead, guess..."
"Because it would all be worthless Fiske. Nobles born to wealth sit on a pile of gold, they don't know what means, it brings them no happiness. The glitter of gold *will* make you happy but its value goes above the metal. When you steal from someone, your success hinges upon your will triumphing over their ability to prevent it. You succeed where they seek your failure. Its a competition, and while it is nice to win, it is a hollow game without the losers. So it isn't the possession of the money that makes you happy, but proving your ability to take it. That is the value of a coin."
"And what you do you after you win big? After you sit on a pile of perfectly ill-gotten gains? You spend it Fiske, you spend it like your life depends on it. Spend it on booze, women, food, even toss coins at the homeless just for laughs. Take the cheap thrills money can buy, but whatever you do, don't sit on it and become content."
"If you sit too long on your rewards, you may be able to build something greater sure, but it will also weigh you down. You'll get complacent and you'll think yourself untouchable. But the journey never ends Fiske. Life carries on whether you like it or not and stopping on the road only makes you forget the skills that helped you travel. Eventually you'll get caught and when that happens you better hope its a guy like me who helps lighten your pockets than one who looks at your deeds."
"You seem to have run into some misfortune, my friend." Zast let out in drunken and slurred words toward the young man that just tried to rob him. The Cazenax had gotten the upper hand and was now holding his flintlock to the muggers head. "You could have picked anyone, anyone at all. But, unfortunately, you chose to come after me and now you won't live to see the next sunrise." The mugger pleaded for mercy but Cawuio-Zast didn't falter, not even for a second. "You ever seen death? Go ahead and look into my eyes. I want them to be the last thing you remember when you reach the other side..." As if taken by a heart of steel, the young man didn't flinch at Zast's comment and locked eyes with the goblin. "I'll put you to sleep before I do it; it'll make things painless."
After a strong dose of internal chemical magic, the man was out cold. Zast lifted his unloaded flintlock away from the guy's head and twirled it around his finger before stashing it away in his belt. He then took the dagger planted in his left kidney out and watched the wound seal behind it. The dagger was twirled in his other hand as he inspected the quality of it, maybe it would fetch a reasonable price. It too found a place in Zast's belt.
Sounding a melodic whistle, Cawuio-Zast strolled out of the alleyway as if he had done nothing of great import. The robber was left sleeping peacefully and unharmed behind him. The Cazenax wondered what was in store if he were to meet that man again. It wasn't everyday that a person wakes up with a second chance at life.
Zast's whistle was that of a well-known Perrench sea shanty. It told of a day that Lady Ahn-Eshiran herself appeared on a ship of privateers. The sailors were weary of her appearance, knowing it to be a sign of misfortune and death ahead. However, the youngest boy in the crew decided to approach the god instead and offered to dance. And dance they did, up and down the ship, 'oh what a dance it was' says the shanty. The song ends with the ship coming across a raging storm, one that no sailor could withstand, and only the young deck hand was able it out alive.
Some are confused by the ending and rush to make theories. The most common of which guesses that Lady Ahn-Eshiran was giving a test to her faithful. But Cawuio-Zast knew that not to be the truth. He knew that the boy held no particular love for the god in his heart and it was, in fact, his audacity that brought him to dance. It is only those who are willing to risk and lose everything that can dance with death properly. Everyone on that ship was dancing with Ahn-Eshiran whether they liked it or not, the boy was just the best at it.
Event: The Grand Library of the Academy of Thaumaturgy - Character's: Ingrid & Leon @dragonpiece
When Leon found out about the release of the The Kirisutra, Vol. 2., he was compelled to go to the library and check it out. Not strictly as an educational experience, but to see if some of his own methods popped up along with taking a few notes here and there.
One could consider him shameless to walk around the library without any attempt to hide the book's cover. But there was no shame to be had in love. However, his occasional glances at the cover took his eyes off where he was walking. This led him to physically bump into someone right in front of the checkout.
A seemingly basic letter was delivered via dragon rider to Ingrid's humble abode. "Quite the expensive courier for a simple letter," she mumbled to herself, believing it to just be some news of some timely matter. A short read later, Ingrid was bright red and heading to the library.
Ingrid headed straight to where the forbidden novel was, picking up some respectable treatises of Ensolian trade routes to hide her deep shame.
Alright Ingy! You just need to write in the checkout ledger, Luumelan won't say anything, she's a woman after all.
Ingrid pursed her lips, Quite the wait... Ingrid took a little peak at the cover, It can't hurt to take a little peak. Face as hard as stone as she indulged her curiosity to not give anything away.
And then a bump came. She turned quickly, closing the book and squeezing them to her chest.
"Yes?" Ingrid greeted whoever bumped her, no fluster or rosy cheeks, bless Shune for arcane magic. Little could Ingrid see her squeeze slide the freshly waxed book up enough to see the name of the middle book, The Kirisutra, Vol. 2.
"Oh, I'm sorry. I wasn't looking where I was going." Leon looked up to greet Ingrid with an apologetic smile before he looked down and noticed the stack of books she was holding. The hidden one that slipped from the stack immediately caught his eye.
After a short pause, he looked back up to Ingrid. "... you may want to adjust your stack of books. Don't worry, I won't tell." He said with a cheerful smile; his copy of The Kirisutra, Vol. 2 was not difficult to miss in his hand.
Was he flirting with her? The performer's tone of voice usually blurred the line between that and regular conversation. With the current situation, it was even harder to tell.
Ah, such kindness, Ingrid basked in Leon's prowess in speech. Sweeping over an embarrassing blunder with no effort at all is the hallmark of a great ma-
Whatever the heart desires I suppose. Your secret is safe with me.
She was shattered, she was lulled along in the safety of a more experienced speaker and then crashed into a wall. Any desire?! Ingrid's ears turned red. Ingrid found herself stealing a glance, I mean he is charming and well-read. Ingrid finished filling out the form and faced Leon, "How do you feel about reading it together?" Her voice tapered off as her brain caught up with her mouth.
Leon brightened up with the boldness of the girl's question, he had expected an immense shyness given her demeanour and expression, but she had worked up some courage. He admired such a trait. "I would love to." Leon said walking closer. "Although, I must say I'm rather surprised. Given you were so eager to hide the book." He approached and then he passed, he had been walking toward the checkout desk.
"Do you expect to be reading it in the library?" The performer asked casually while focused on writing in the checkout book.
Ingrid's mind gauged how he took that, how horrid will my social death be? Instead she was met with some positivity. She had stumbled into Ipte's grace. "Well, I guess I have known of you for awhile but not about you. We share a lot of friends after all." Ingrid leaned on the checkout counter next to him, "Besides, you did say whatever the heart desires right? Who wouldn't give it a shot?"
"No, I was wondering if you would rather read it somewhere more private," Ingrid put up some false bravado about the situation. In reality, she was in a tizzy trying to navigate where Ipte led her.
Who I'm I to deny what the heart desires? Leon thought merrily as he wrote down his name into the checkout book. He was just about to finish his name when Ingrid suggested moving this to a private place. Then his hand slipped. Where Leon usually finished the end of Solaire with a flourish, there was now a mess of ink. The performer frowned, unsure of what happened. With a quick expenditure of Binding, the ink could be erased alongside a chuckle and he redid the flair with success this time.
But he was now well aware of a dense feeling in his chest; like his heart beating slower. He couldn't help but feel he was doing something wrong, couldn't help but feel ashamed... No, what he was doing couldn't be wrong. Leon brushed those thoughts aside. This woman desired him and he wished to provide what the heart wanted. It was love; there was no shame to be had in that.
Leon closed the checkout book and turned to face his company. "I have a few nice places in mind, to read that is, if you would care to accompany me?" He asked with a wink... Then it hit him again in force. Why had the question felt so wrong to ask?
Her eyes glanced at the spilt ink, I see.
As Leon finished cleaning his feelings, Ingrid scanned the returned books, History no, treatises are a bore, natural science is fun! But maybe not for him. Then a favorite book of her appeared, that should do.
Coming back to Leon, he seemed to have a smile again. Well, I might still make a reading buddy, Ingrid hoped to herself. Leon seemed close to so many people she knew, it would be good to get to know him. "I would love to," Ingrid responded quickly before reaching for a returned book and whilst avoiding the ghostly smack of Luumelan, "How about this book then?" Ingrid presented a book called Dandelion Amongst the Garden. "This book is a lovely read."
Was it so wrong to share his heart with this woman like he had done so many times before? No, it shouldn't be. So why did it feel wrong? Why was there a trace of emptiness building in his heart? He couldn't explain it, but he couldn't continue like this.
Ingrid's attempts to shift the situation were nice. He didn't want to dim her hopes with such a sudden no even if it had to be done, he was grateful for her wordless understanding. Leon knew it was something going on with him, not her. But he couldn't simply say 'it's not you, it's me' that was a classic mistake in the realm of romance. Instead, he lied up an excuse. "I... realized that I actually have some things to do before I head home. I... can't believe I forgot." Leon laughed it off... nervously? Was Ingrid seeing the performer flustered himself?
. . . Okay then.
Ingrid laughed it off, "It's understandable, the bellmen have been so lazy with marking the hours, time just slips by," Ingrid tried to smooth over his terrible excuse. There was a smidge of pain, had she misread this so terribly? But she didn't let it show openly. Enough shame for one trip to the library, Ingrid told herself.
Behind the counter, Luumelan was turned away to rearrange some books though you could her small frame shaking a little.
Leon bowed his head before making his way to leave but turned back just before making an exit. "Oh, Ingrid, enjoy the reading." He remarked with a wink. Just that quickly, he seemed back to composure. "I'm sure we can read together another day." He continued with an inviting tone to his voice. And soon after, he was gone.
Outside the library, Leon took a moment away from prying eyes. His breath was shorter than it normally would be and his chest was pressing against him. What the hell is wrong with me? He thought with a panic, unsure of any answers to explain away this feeling.
Leon looked back to the library for a brief time, he wasn't blind, he knew exactly what he had done to Ingrid by leaving like that. He felt guilty but what could he do now?
Ingrid waved him off and returned the Kirisutra and the Dandelion book. She kept the 2 trade book reports and went on her way home. Tall and strong, but in the end nothing more than an ugly weed in a flower bed, better used as cow feed on a pasture. Just a dandelion. Ingrid went home quite glum to study.
Until a prince comes along who happens to love dandelions.
A couple nights later...
"You know Kaureerah, there's a whole section in this book dedicated to an I.P." Leon remarked, not putting two and two together. "Its high praise... Who do you think it is? A long, lost lover of the author whose heart bleeds for a time gone by perhaps? That's probably it."
"That reminds me, I took the liberty of picking you up some reading glasses today."
"No, no, your eyes a perfectly fine, beautiful actually. There's just a few things from this book I want to try out."
”Justice should try to be blind. But judgement without empathy isn’t worth shit.”
29 | U N A L L I G N E D | T B D | T B D T B D | T B D
A P P E A R A N C E
Yoshitsune stands at a bit higher than average height and well-built with lean muscle. His thin, patchy beard, his unkempt, tied-back hair, and his tanned skin befit a traveler but work entirely against his history as a noble. In contrast his clothes and swords are well-kept and tidy.
B A C K G R O U N D
Roaming around from bar to bar on the mainland, Sugawara Yoshitsune, the ‘Delivery Boy’, could be found with a scratchy beard enjoying a drink with others and laughing uninhibited. A stranger to these lands would mistake him for any other vagabond if it weren’t for his high-quality clothing. But many on the mainland knew the noble prodigy he once was and could recall his fall from grace. He carries two swords on his hip, one is the sword he calls his own and sees frequent use, the other belonged to an old friend and has never been drawn since. It is the second that details his downfall if that's what you want to call it.
Yoshitsune comes from a smaller branch of the royal Sugawara lineage renowned for its judgement and adherence to the law. Being the first child and a son, Yoshitsune was groomed from an early age to inherit the duties of the house and hold the wisdom of his father. Justice is blind, it needs to strike true regardless of the affections the judge may hold. Yoshitsune took this all in, during his childhood and adolescence he idolized his father and, with the encouragement of the rest of the family, quickly began shaping up to those expectations.
The pressure compounded when Yoshitsune was nine and was told that he would become the heir to the Shogun himself. His already rigorous training and lesson plan increased two-fold and the punishment for failure in these tasks increased three-fold. In all respects, Yoshitsune was an excellent student, pressure makes diamonds and he was proof. But he wasn’t flawless and a small chip would surface very soon.
The aftermath of a small, unfortunate accident would change Yoshitsune’s life forever. It shouldn’t have happened, by all planning of the Sugawara house. During his younger teenage years, Yoshitsune’s life was saved by a peasant boy after he had accidentally hit his head on a rock diving into a river. A river Yoshitsune shouldn’t have been near, but snuck out on a very rare occasion of rebellion.
The saviour boy's name was Kaito and Yoshitsune was filled with gratitude for the boy saving his life. Despite the boy's lower status, Yoshitsune treated the boy to the luxuries of nobility for a time and the two became quick friends. While the family did expect to reward the boy for his good deed, the care and duration of his stay quickly became outside the bounds that peasantry should be allowed. It quickly became apparent that Yoshitsune was no longer gifting the boy a just reward but treating him because he saw the boy as a friend and an equal. The family, his father especially, disapproved of this.
Kaito was eventually escorted back home firmly but with honour. The two were expected to be separate after this, but Yoshitsune would sneak out around once a month to spend time with Kaito. This was generally allowed because, outside of these exchanges, Yoshitsune still lived up to the noble he was expected to be.
As the years passed by, the two picked up the arts of war together. For Yoshitsune it was mandatory, for Kaito it was to join his friend. They would begin to spar during each of their meetings and slowly develop together. To Yoshitsune’s surprise, without professional training, Kaito kept up with him and he eventually figured out this was the result of tireless practice on the peasant boys' part.
When the two boys had passed adolescence and into adulthood, Kaito let Yoshitsune know that he intended to conscript into their house’s army and that this would likely be the last time they would meet in some time. In response, Yoshitsune got to work with his family's smiths and forged two similar katanas under the guise he wanted to do for himself. In reality, he gifted one of the swords to Kaito before he left for battle and kept one for himself. This drew immense dissatisfaction from his family, but it was already too late by the time they found out. After some severe punishment, Yoshitsune convinced them not to confiscate the blade from Kaito. Kaito was honourable and deserved it, Yoshitsune wouldn’t be alive without him.
A few years passed and with the absence of Kaito, Yoshitsune became far more focused in his development. He spent more time with his father, more time with private trainers, was present for sentences made, and gradually his face hardened. He was conditioned almost as a true heir. One more test lay in wait for him, Yoshitsune’s first sentencing as a judge.
A dissertation from the army was an easy case—the sentencing as written by law: execution. Yoshitsune strode out to pass his judgment and was more than prepared to carry it out. That was until he saw Kaito, who had looked up to him with misery in his eyes. Yoshitsune, in shock, looked to his father who only regarded him with a cold, unfeeling expression. Justice is blind, it needs to strike true regardless of the affections the judge may hold.
Yoshitsune’s face hardened, composing himself. Kaito deserted the army. The sentence was execution. He thought Kaito was an honourable person. But an honourable person doesn’t run from their duty. The sentence was execution. And so Yoshitsune brought his blade down on the neck of his best friend, his brother, and someone he loved. Such was his duty.
Yoshitsune impressed his father with his actions. While Kaito's crime was real, it was a test to see if his son could separate his feelings from the call of law. Yoshitsune passed with flying colours.
Yoshitsune hung his gift to Kaito in his sleeping quarters as a daily reminder. Every day he would wake up and look upon it as a reminder of what he had to do and the person he had to be. With each day, a reminder of Kaito weighed upon his heart like a small stone. It wasn’t noticeable at first, but growing with every passing day. Every regret, every double take, every thought where he considered his actions were deeply wrong to execute him. They would pile up and they would be exactly what he needed to harden his heart.
It started a few years after the execution, after a record of being the perfect son and heir, Yoshitsune spoke out over dinner. The content of his words was inconsequential but the effect was well heard. Yoshitsune had interrupted his father. This earned him a few disapproving glares but was quickly overlooked. It was a rare act of rebellion after all. But then another act of disobedience happened, then another, and another, until a clear pattern had emerged. It wasn’t long before Yoshitsune could be seen as a threat to his house’s dignity and something needed to be done.
His father had assumed his son simply needed to learn humility. So he arranged for Yoshitsune to be put to work as a messenger for a while, a highly regarded one but a messenger nonetheless. His father was certain that a demeaning job would bring Yoshitsune back to the fold in no time. But instead, the young man took it as an excuse to travel around and drink at random bars on the mainland and beyond. Despite this, he performed his duty admirably and without fail so no punishment could reasonably be placed on him. To add to this, he would help the needs of the peasant folk as he came across them, which gave him some respect among the lower circles of society.
Yoshitsune’s family was baffled by the sudden change and his descent into something they would consider a disappointment. They were left asking why, but the answer rested on his hip. During his first delivery and all subsequent deliveries, he had carried Kaito’s blade.
The growing weight on his heart had not hardened Yoshitsune but broken him instead. Left with the grief of his deceased friend, he had come to realise that the execution could not have been just. Kaito was an honourable man, so he couldn’t have deserted for no good reason. But he still couldn’t understand it fully and sought desperately to know the answer.
In all the times Yoshitsune had met with Kaito, it had always been near or around his family estate. Every time, he would bring Kaito into his life and his world but he had never done the same back. Maybe if he were to trace his friend’s steps and see what life was like from his shoes, he could understand why his friend could have deserted. So he took to the job of deliveries, travelling Nikan, and seeing what life was like for the peasants.
At first, he was confused and awkward. He didn’t fit in with these people at all; his overly serious and dignified expressions didn’t help. But as time passed on and he persisted, Yoshitsune found himself lightening up, his shoulders less firm and his face softer. He began joking with these people, laughing with them, dancing with them, and more.
A day came when Yoshitsune had stayed up drinking so long that he met the rising sun. It was on a field just outside a small, nameless town and he sat alone with his thoughts. It was that day that he finally understood his friend. He laid back on the grass, he laughed, and he cried for a life he cherished and a life he had taken unjustly. He had come to the end of his journey.
The joy and happiness his travels had gained him were precious. So why not continue the journey? Why not make a few more deliveries? With every step, he took Kaito’s blade with him. He wanted his friend with him if he was going to travel to all these places. He loved Kaito after all.
Justice should try to be blind. But judgement without empathy isn’t worth shit.
Yoshitsune is a friendly roaming traveler always willing to drink with and talk to those who come across his path. He seems to have an passion in regards to learning people's lives and stories. However, despite the circumstances, his sense of justice hasn't faltered and will often take the law into his own hands should the proper authorities falter.
M O T I V A T I O N
Yoshitsune has been overwhelmed with responsibilities and goals from his birth. For now, all he wants to do is continue travelling. This isn't to say that he is immune to the call of duty. As such an important name, his past responsibilities will likely come crashing down upon him once more.
T H A U M A T U R G Y
TBD
S T R E N G T H S & S K I L L S
❖ A well-trained swordsman ❖ Great judgement ❖ Friendly ❖ Great to talk to over drinks ❖ Good reputation with peasants
Yoshitsune has quite a record of helping the peasants around him. He has learned to speak to everyone as equals, not just giving consideration to those born of noble blood. He is generally friendly and approachable. But he is also not soft to the idea of necessary violence and the dispensing of justice; he has claimed the lives of many criminals and bandits in his travels.
W E A K N E S S E S & F L A W S
❖ Humble ambitions ❖ Grief-stricken ❖ Unwilling to lead ❖ Avoidant of responsibility ❖ Bad reputation to everyone that matters
While he has more than demonstrated an ability for leading and taking on responsibility, Yoshitsune seems allergic to the idea currently. He has found happiness in a more humble life and in relating to those who grew up lesser than him. He simply wishes to continue humbly travelling and if that serves his family, that's all the better. He fears that putting on the mantle of heir or leadership in general will require the cold heart he once held.
I N V E N T O R Y
Yoshitsune carries his sword, Kaito's sword, and a sake gourd with cups. Everything else is the necessities for a normal traveler.
A green shadow slunk between tables, no one could really remember who invited Cawuio-Zast to the party but he wasn't doing the best job of looking inconspicuous about it. The Cazanax currently sat underneath a table with a bottle of Ellermane Bleu, despite the party just starting he had made considerable progress. It was free drinks and what better way to spend the night than with your bestest of friends, a great big bottle of booze.
Later that night…
Pissed, drunk, absolutely slaughtered. Cawiuo-Zast stumbled upon the top of an inside table and started dancing to a tune that could only exist in his head.
Zarina, after losing the sense of time with her exchange with Marz, eventually excused herself to cater to her party. Things had gotten a little rowdy, and she had a job to do.
“Oi.” The Virangish hostess was behind him, also on the table, and her arms crossed. She was tall, even for a human, and her look of disappointment was palpable. “What are you doing here with those dirty feet, Habibi?”
Cawuio-Zast stumbled around to meet Zarina and put his hands on his hips in offence, puffing himself up to look taller. He washed his feet about thrice a week, there was no need for her comments.
"Are you the bouncer or something? Because I have a special invite, I'll have you know. Let me fetch it..." He reached into the inner pocket on the left side of his jacket and pulled out a small roll of paper. It flowed open in his hand to reveal a message in immaculate cursive.
'Cawuio-Zast is honourably invited as a guest of honour to this soiree.' At the bottom of the invitation, it added: 'Thank you.'
The corner of Zarina's lips creased as she took note of the Cazenax's behaviour and supposedly spotless feet. When presented with the invitation, she raised a brow before entertaining the childish machinations of an intoxicated little man. Although the existence of such a trick suggested premeditation. Definitely Cazenax shenanigans.
She peered over the sheet of people. “Ah but of course.” She smirked behind the veil of paper she kept over before her visage. “Right this way, Mister Green!” Her trip to An Zenui had some linguistic payoff. “We've been eagerly awaiting your show.” She hopped off the table and gestured invitingly for him to follow.
They were to go to the yard, where a musical performance was reaching its end. “I was told you were one of the best. If I may be so bold as to ask if you could dedicate your first show to me?” she smiled. “The boss.”
One thing Zarina would have noticed after looking back from the crowd was that Zast was now standing on two oddly thick drink coasters; she was certain she didn't order or own those ugly things. But it did make him look just a little taller. "Wait a second, how did you know my name?... Oh yeah hiccup right."
Cawuio-Zast furrowed his brow as he got the invitation to perform. He was certain there was no such arrangement made, the invitation was a complete fabrication after all. But maybe this woman hadn't caught on, it wasn't time to blow his cover yet. Free booze was free booze. "Well itsss about time they quit hogging the stage." He adjusted his jacket and hopped down from the table to follow the bouncer lady.
"Maybe when I get my show done, hiccup I can start getting some proper respect around here." Zast looked back to Zarina in response to her question. "I didn't mean you by the way. I would be happy to dedicate it to you, you've been lovely." What did she call herself? The boss? A pretty grandiose title for a bouncer, Zast thought, but he didn't have the mental bandwidth to consider it further.
The Cazenax's stumbling didn't stop after climbing up onto the stage. Causing immense confusion to the band, this little green man clumsily made his way to centre stage and waved to address the audience to moderate success. He took a swig of the bottle while his audience turned their heads toward him. "Right! For those who don't know me and for those who, do but shouldn't, you are blessed by the musical talents hiccup of Cawuuuiiooooo-Zast. I'd like to dedicate this performance to the bouncer down the back." He pointed Zarina out. "Someone give her a smooch because she's the reason I'm up on this stage today..."
Zast trailed off as he looked down and began rifling through his jacket. "Now where was it?" He mumbled to himself as he reached into the same pocket that held the invitation only to pull out a fully sized trumpet of Perrench make triumphantly. "Aha!" The size difference was absurd, it couldn't have sat concealed in his jacket, let alone one small inner pocket. Where the hell had it come from?
There was little to ponder that question because, without further delay, he began.
Most of the invitees were curious to see a Cazenax, especially one without the whacky body paints of Technically Correct, take the stage. Many eyes turned toward Zarina when the 'bouncer' was given special dedication, prompting her to wave with a cheeky grin. The confusion quickly turned into a myriad of applause the moment air came out of that trumpet and the choreography came about. In fact, many took to dancing in the most non-traditional manner they could think of. Cheers and smiles were abundant, the soirée was reaching its peak for sure!
Zarina clapped to the rhythm, and eventually joined her 'guest' on stage to man some percussion instruments and dance along with the Magnificent Green.
“Hey hey, here we go! So he's finally here, performing for you! If you know the words, you can join him too, Put your feet together so you can't be wrong, as we take you through this greenie song!
HUH! C-Z! Mag-Green!
He's the leader of the bunch, you know him well he's finally back, TO KICK SOME TAIL!”
After his song, Zast took a swig of a wine bottle then grabbed the trumpet with both hands and broke it over his knee. But instead of the trumpet bending or even a dent being made, the instrument shifted into a mass of liquid that fell to the ground making a puddle of, presumably, water. "T-sh-hank you very much! You've been a wonderful bloody audience."
Leaning back, the Cazenax stumbled back a couple of steps before throwing his balance forward and running at full speed. With a very poorly performed leap, he threw himself into the masses for some crowd surfing. However, the alcohol caught up with him in the execution and he blacked out at some point in the chaos of it all.
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