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Post by Bhunivelze on Jul 1, 2013 15:26:34 GMT -5
Ylla
“Not to sound snappy, but would you mind giving us a tour? I kinda like to know my surroundings.” Ylla jumped in. Tizoc seemed to feel comfortable on the ship, but Ylla was just wary. Not that she didn’t not trust Tiz’s judgement, but she couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable. The fact that they were just recently attacked by shadows didn’t help much either.
“Wait, the monster... thing, that attacked you. Did it perhaps look like a shadow demon? Did it seem to...” Ylla didn’t know how to explain. If the monster was anything like she saw in her dream. “Seem to envelope them in darkness? Was there blood?” She couldn’t help but feel guilty for asking such a question after the attack. But she wanted to know. And when Ylla wanted to know, she was going to find out.
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Post by atlantis on Jul 7, 2013 22:57:59 GMT -5
Markas
Ylla's question brought him out of his thoughts and took him back to the dark night before. The memory unnerved him and he found himself clutching his father's compass in his pocket. "No blood," he answered, feeling the color drain from his face. "Plenty of shadows."
He turned to lead them up the staircase to the next deck. "I would be glad to discuss it with you at great length, but I prefer to do so only when we're within the safety of Matka's reach. They say the mere mention of otherworldly things can summon them to your doorstep."
He waited for them to join him at the top of the stair to begin the tour and showed them through every room on the ship. By the time he had finished, it was well into the afternoon. "I'm afraid I must dismiss myself so I can accomplish my own daily tasks. Please, excuse me."
-----
It was early morning when they reached their destination. Soren had been up all night making sure they got to Rovan as soon as possible. Markas found him on the top deck, asleep next to a smouldering candle. He bent down and shook Soren awake. "Go get some sleep," he said gently.
"I want to go with you," he complained.
"I'll handle it. You have to get some rest."
Soren didn't need too much convincing. He got up with a groan and stumbled down to the quarterdeck without another word. When the rest of the crew was up and moving about, he gathered them all on the main deck. "I'm going into the city, to Matka's temple. If anyone has any business on land or any need to follow, speak now."
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Post by Zabby on Jul 8, 2013 21:15:02 GMT -5
Tizoc Seeing Soren walking to bed as the rest of the crew gathered on the deck. Tizoc listened to what the captain said, but when he was done, she said softly, "I don't have anything to do here, and I don't want to leave Soren alone. You don't mind if I stay here and watch over him, right?"
She looked at both Ylla and Markas hoping to get the okay from her friend and the captain.
Panyal The man in bird form swooped down on the high temple of Toci in the city of Malinalco. That was the only place to find out where the Goddess was of playing. At least one Council member would be there to tell him where she was. He swooped in through an empty window into the Council chambers. Looking around the room, a look of confusion crossed his face.
He saw seven young people dressed in Council member's clothes sitting around the table with the eldest, a nineteen year old Tezoc sitting at their head. What's going on? Panyal thought to himself. The Council members were not old enough to all pass from old age in just the nine short years I've been gone. Where are my old friends?
It was then Tezoc noticed the bird perched at the open window. She did not know it was the legendary Panyal, but she did know that Toci could talk to the animals regardless of human abilities. "Cizin," she said to a boy who must have been twelve or thirteen. "Can you please close the window so our Cousin does not hear us. You know how Toci has said that they have turned against her."
Panyal's eyes bugged out of his head at this comment and he let out a large squawk. Panyal could not understand what was going on or why it sounded like Toci was this young Council's enemy. As the boy Cizin walked near the window, Panyal took off flying. He headed straight to the deep center of the forest. That was where Toci always went when she was upset about something, and there was obviously something to be upset about now.
The old saint's instincts paid off. After flying into the thick of the forest, he saw the usually jovial goddess crying curled up against the bark of a large Tree. Panyal landed near the goddess and shifted into the form of a black Panther that he knew she liked the most. Approaching his goddess with his head down he nuzzled her arm and gave a low, soft growl.
Turning her tear-stained face to her animal, her eyes automatically showed recognition for him. She embarrassed his neck in a hug. "Oh Panyal," she said softly. "What a fool I've been! I've lost everything in the last nine years and I didn't even realize what happened."
The saint licked Toci softly with his cat tongue to comfort her and asked, "What happened, my child?" Even though Toci was a goddess who was 100 years older than him, Panyal had always treated her as his own daughter.
"Tezoc," she said softly. "The evil that lives within that girl. I never thought that she would kill off the counselor members and blame it on me."
"What?!" exclaimed Panyal. "Why didn't you fight her? Why didn't you call me back!" He sounded harsh and scolding now.
Toci flinched at his tone and looked down at her feet. "I wanted to handle things myself," she said softly. "And you had to protect Tizoc. We need her now more than ever. Besides, if I had fought her I would have proved all the things she was saying."
Panyal took a deep breath and tried to calm down a little. "Toci," he said, his voice soft and reassuring again. "You need to explain to me exactly what happened."
Taking a steadying breath herself Toci said, "About two years ago, we had a massive typhoon that caused many of the small villages to be wiped away, plus three of the Council members died trying to save their people. Everyone was beside themselves in fear and despair. That was when Tezoc, using her other half's name, took up the cry that this was my doing. I rained judgement down upon the land because they were not following my ways correctly. I was leaving them and all direct revelations from me came directly through her. Of course the remaining two Council members fought this claim, but they soon died of a mysterious illness. Tezoc blamed me again and said I had killed him directly, and anyone who dared to go against this new order with her at the head would die in the same manner. Then she appointed new Council members from each tribe, young men and women she could mold to her own way of thinking."
She began to tear up again, but Panyal rubbed his face against her's to try to dry her tears. After a few minutes of gasping, she continued. "These last two years have been miserable. She has made outrageous rules and laws. She even declared it was okay to harm and eat our Cousins! Thank Kyros that no one really wants to, but they are killed from time to time. Panyal, I don't know what to do!"
This news stung Panyal deep into his heart. Everyone on Chalco was his child. They could all trace their ancestry back to him. It was as if his whole family had betrayed him. On top of that, He could not believe this was the other half of the girl he had been watching over for the last nine years. He tried to imagine her face doing these things, but he could not.
"Toci," he said his heart heavy. "I wish I could sweep all your worries away, but I came here to add to your burden."
The crying goddess looked at her saint seriously and began imaging the worst had happened to Tizoc and his mission. "Tell me," she said more bravely than she felt.
"The ancient threat of shadows have been seen throughout the countries."
Toci's expression shifted from one full of sorrow to one full of fear. "Panyal, you don't mean they're back?" she asked. Toci was born after the great war was over. She had no idea what the battles of old were like apart from the stories she had heard growing up.
"They're back," Panyal said seriously. "Many of your brothers and sisters are already aware. A meeting of the gods will soon be called."
"I need to tell my half brother," said Toci without even thinking about the consequences. "No one else will tell him about the meeting if I don't. Panyal," she said her face seemed blank, but somehow also expressed the deep pain she was feeling at having to leave her country like this. "Don't go back to Tizoc. Stay and watch over her sister for now. I need you to guard my nation because I've done a horrible job of it myself."
"I will. You can count on me," said the Panther with a snarl-like grin.
"I know I can," she said softly. She kissed the man on the head and took off for where she knew Sor would be. It bothered her to leave her country alone, but it's not as if things could get worse in her absence and the threat to the world was too large to ignore. If they didn't take care of this, there would be no Chalco for her to worry about anymore.
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Post by Bhunivelze on Jul 9, 2013 15:43:47 GMT -5
Ylla
“Sure, I mean it’s not really my call. But sure.” Ylla told her friend, she looked back up at Markas. “I’d like to go on land with you, if you are okay with that. It’s not like I have anything to do on here.” She said motioning to the rest of the ship. While she really didn’t have anything to do on the ship, the real reason she wanted to go was because this was the whole reason she left. To see the world. No chance in heck she was going to miss this.
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Post by Marli on Jul 10, 2013 1:28:44 GMT -5
Sor
Sor circled low over the beach, reveling in the salt spray that coated the bottom of his wings. It had been too long since he'd been in this body and even as the wind contorted his great mane around him, as cool raindrops bit at his mighty paws and Teshet uttered her curses, he realized how much he had missed it. The Squall brewing up behind him, though not powerful yet, cackled with distant electricity. As Chalco fisherman wondered at the strange clouds Sor was filled with a silent euphoria. As villagers shuddered at the sounds of thunder Sor felt alive.
Finding a secluded cove, Sor landed with a soft rumbling. He breathed in the scent of sea salt, of jungle plants and distant villagers. The Chalco, he now remembered, always had a different scent about them than the other nations of man. Sweeter somehow. Possibly from the lack of meat in their diet. It had been many years since he'd set foot on this island but Toci had agreed to see him and with his plans to join the Nephilim in the fight against Khaos's shadows he needed all the help he could get.
Suddenly a slight change in the wind brought a new scent to him. The lion-god turned "Greeting Toci, Goddess of the Chalco." Though naturally low and booming, Sor fought to keep his voice quiet. The conversation they would have need not be overheard. "It is good to see you again."
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Post by atlantis on Jul 10, 2013 19:16:55 GMT -5
Markas
He nodded at Tizoc. "I would be grateful for any help you can give him. Thank you." To Ylla he continued, "And I would be glad of the company. Grab anything you wish to bring and we'll be off." He headed out to the dock, waiting for her to follow and then they were on their way.
Markas breathed a sigh of relief. Here was the home of his god and his people. The dagis on the far end of the street. The tavern in the center of the city. Children playing in the alleys without trepidation and masukaat carrying on with their busy lives. Now they were safe. They would find a way to help Svana and be free of this curse at last.
"You asked me before about the creatures that attacked us," he began, talking to Ylla as they made their way through the wooden structures to the great stone temple that Matka called home. "The only name I know for them is Draugr, but the more I remember of it, the less the term seems to fit."
He dwelt on the memory a moment before continuing. "They were worse than Draugar. Black shapes, made of nothingness, of void. They moved faster than anything I've ever seen and shattered iron like glass. But as I told you, there was no blood. Then again, maybe we were lucky in that respect."
Glancing back at her, he asked, "Why were you so curious? Have you seen them before?"
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Post by Bhunivelze on Jul 17, 2013 17:05:27 GMT -5
Ylla
“Yes. Well, no... The day Tizoc and I left Meia, I had a dream. Black shadow creatures were everywhere. Destroying things. And, blood was everywhere too. But nobody was hurt. In fact everyone was smiling. It’s like I was the only one that could see what was really happening.” Ylla paused as she stared at the world around her. It was new and exciting, but it wasn’t as fulfilling as she thought it would be. She snapped out of her daze and continued talking with Markas. “It’s just that a whole lot of weird things have been happening recently and I want to know what’s going on.” Her voice bubbled with enthusiasm.
She kept silent for a few seconds as the kept walking, glancing up at the young captain, She couldn’t help but feel immature. He seemed so strong and steady. She was wild at heart and could be considered flighty.
“You must think I’m crazy. Having dreams, leaving my homeland...”
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Post by Zabby on Jul 17, 2013 18:36:20 GMT -5
OT: I was waiting for Logos or Munster to post, so we could get things moving, but that doesn't look like it'll happen, so I'll jump in. We still need one to get on with that part though
Tizoc Tizoc waved goodbye to the Captain and Ylla. She sighed to herself after they left. She honestly couldn't stand how mopey and standoffish Soren had been this whole trip. Tizoc could tell that was not his usual personality shining through, and she really wanted to try something to cheer him.
Creeping back to where his room was, Tizoc knocked softly on the door. After a few minutes she softly pushed it open. Looking into the room, she saw the man she was looking for passed out on a bed. Tizoc walked over to the bed. "Oh brother," she said softly. "I wish there was something I could for you." Noticing that the covers were loose around him, Tizoc pulled them up and tucked them around him, hoping to at least give him some comfort as he slept.
Toci "Greeting Toci, Goddess of the Chalco. It is good to see you again," the oddly quite voice of Sor greeted her.
"Brother!" replied Toci, running up to her half-brother and giving the dignified lion a large hug around the neck. His coat was one of the softest, most beautiful things Toci ever got the pleasure of touching. It felt softer than any pillow she could ever imagine and it was such a vivid golden color. Truly, when Sor and his children where created they were some of the most blessed beings on all Itova.
"I told you," she continued. "You don't have to speak so formally to me. I know how the others regard you, but you don't have anything to prove to me." Then she broke out of her hug and continued. "It's great to see you as well. I just wish it were under better circumstances."
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Post by atlantis on Jul 17, 2013 19:45:13 GMT -5
Markas"No; I don't think so at all," Markas reassured her, pausing to gather his bearings now that they had entered the heart of the city. "On the contrary, I understand your concern," he added, looking at her seriously. "Days before the attack I found I could hardly sleep. There was this feeling of... dread that kept me awake. Like I knew something was wrong but I couldn't figure out what it was." He chose their path and began walking again. "And then even afterwards, in Meia, I still felt that eerie sense of warning. So I etched every sigil, glyph, and rune I knew onto all the candles and on every corner of the ship. I prayed to Matka and to my parents and to the heros of the past so we would be protected. But, honestly? I didn't feel safe until we arrived here." They turned a corner and in the center of an elaborate square was Matka's temple at last. Surrounded by long, narrow pools of sparkling blue water, the domed, limestone building towered above its neighbors. Small steps led up to large arched, glass doors on eight sides, forming an octagonal tower. While completely unlike the rest of the structures surrounding the area, it seemed to belong in this place, as though it had been there since before Rovan began-- and in fact, perhaps it had. Markas guided her down the path and up the steps to the door but their way was blocked by Rovani guards on either side. "We're here to speak to Matka or one of his saints," he explained. "Who requested your presence?" asked the guard on the left. "No one, but--" "Then you should leave. Now," ordered the guard on the right. Markas frowned. "Look, my friend has gone missing and we need help getting her back." When they didn't yield, he continued, a hint of irritation in his voice. "My name is Markas Arensen. I've done business here before. I delivered decorations for celebrations in the past and I'm no enemy to anyone inside." "You could be a saint from Ouranon, for all I care," said the guard on the left again. "You still wouldn't get through these doors unless you had an invitation." It was obvious talking would get him nowhere. "Ylla, you should leave if you want to stay out of trouble," he said in a half-whisper before leaping through the guards and into the glass door, sprinting down the hall. OT: TK, totally not ditching you here. My hopes are that Ylla is spunky enough to go with him. Soren OT: appearance, since I keep using him.It had been more than a full day since his sister was snatched by those... whatever they were. It would be better if he knew. If he knew what the monsters were, he could cope better. If he knew if Svana was alive or dead, he would at least have some sort of resolve. Instead, thinking of that night only made things worse. So he was thankful he had finally reached a point where his mind only wanted to rest. If he was asleep, the terrors could no longer haunt him. At least he thought. However, he found himself trembling in nightmare after nightmare. Here he was chasing after his sister, then he was being swallowed alive as Kaspar had almost been, and once more he was himself being chased by the darkness of night. Then, a peace. He was with his parents on a ship when he was a child only freshly learning the art of sailing. But even this was destroyed, as black hands wrapped around him and held his arms in place. It was enough to jolt him to wakefulness and he saw he was still in his quarters, wrapped in sheets rather than demons or ghosts. Then he saw someone standing in front of him-- the Chalcan girl Markas had brought along. "What's happened?" he asked sleepily, sitting up in bed. Then more alert, "Has Markas returned?"
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Post by purplemunster94 on Jul 22, 2013 23:59:16 GMT -5
Elias
Elias nodded to the younger guardian. "I will work endlessly until I fully understand what this symbol means, and what it has to do with what happened in this library." He looked toward the bigger guardian, "I promise, as soon as I know anything, the guardians will be the first to know." Elias bowed his head to the guardians and turned to the Oranian girl. "The things you have said here today, are very curious, however, it is the only explanation for what has happened, and I believe you do not have a reason to lie to me. So with my up-most gratitude, I would like to say thank you." He then bowed to her and turned to walk toward the front of the library. "If any of you learn anything else, It would be in everyone's best interest to let me know. Anything will help me solve the meaning behind this symbol." He glanced down at the symbol, but quickly looked away. Even looking at the thing gave him a feeling of dread. He was grateful for the robes the Aramazd wore, because he could use the sleeve so he would not have to touch anything connected to the symbol.
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Post by Marli on Jul 23, 2013 0:58:15 GMT -5
Sor
"Brother!"
Toci ran to him, throwing her arms around him and running her hands through his mane. The great lion chuckled at the god's exuberance. Though he wasn't so sure about being considered a 'brother' to the other gods, he found Toci's use of the word pleasing.
"I told you," she continued. "You don't have to speak so formally to me. I know how the others regard you, but you don't have anything to prove to me." Then she broke out of her hug and continued. "It's great to see you as well. I just wish it were under better circumstances."
Sor nodded. "My thanks Toci, child-hearted. I too am sorry we must meet under such dark skies." He started down the beach at a slow pace, able to think better while moving. "Kaos's energies are growing, his rage runs hot in my blood... and in that of my people."
As if on cue, Teshet started muttering her curses. "And no power to stop it has you, slimey Chalco. Stinking like rotting fruit. Over now is the reign of man. His fury will bring a new era." Sor growled and flicked his tail, submerging the serpents head in the rising surf. A series of garbled profanities was heard before the wave retreated. When he was sure that other part of him would speak no more, he turned back to Toci.
"The Nephilium are a race born of division. As I am a body of separate minds, so they are a race of differing loyalties. These energies, shadows, have affected them greatly... some species more than others. Even now Kaos seeks to draw them near to his absence and many have succumbed to his callings. I fear, if there is a war, that my people will be fighting kin against kin. Those who embrace the void in their souls and those who reject it. Those who fight for Kaos and those who side with the races of man."
Sor let out a slow sigh and flicked his tail in agitation. The serpent hissed, but offered no comment. "I am not a god like the rest of you, Toci. My energy is scattered among my people and it grows weaker as they become more divided. If I choose a side in this war, there is no guarantee that my people will follow me... And if they should all side with Kaos, I will be compelled to follow them, or cease to exist as a single body. The situation is... delicate. I will admit that I myself do not fully understand it. However, the fact that I am still speaking to you, able to form a solid body, to think apart from Teshet, means that the heart of my people is not lost."
He stopped now and looked out over the waves. "By aligning myself with Kyros, I seek redemption for my people. My hope is that by fighting on the side of man I can inspire my people to reject the void within them. I do not expect to win all of their hearts, indeed I fear an entire species may be already lost, but I believe that by throwing my own weight down it may be possible to tip the scale... That is, if I can convince my people that part of them is still human."
He looked at Toci seriously. "If the gods are forming a group of fighters, then my warriors must be among them. My as a whole is untrustworthy, but there is good among them. I must convince the fates of this. It is a risk, to be sure, taking my people among your own. But I am sure it must be done. I must convince them that we are redeemable." The lion looked downward now, eyes filled with sorrow. "The time will soon come where I will have to bite off my tail to save my heart. You Toci, are the great mediator. I ask you now, beg you, to stand by me. To help me convince them."
OT: Long confusing post go! XD
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Post by Zabby on Jul 30, 2013 17:20:44 GMT -5
Tizoc "No, I'm sorry," said Tizoc, an uncharacteristic frown was covering her face. "The captain has barely been gone twenty minutes. I was just trying to make you more comfortable, but I woke you instead." She sighed and echoed, "I'm really sorry. Is there anything I can do for you now that you're awake?"
Toci Toci began to walk alongside her older half-brother. She was shocked when she heard the insults the tail was throwing at her. Toci knew that the tail had a mind of it's own, but she had never heard it be so violent or aggressive before. It must truly be a sign that the Nephilim were in a rough place.
The way Sor continued to talk, it was as if he could disappear at any second. If that happened, Toci didn't know what she would do. Without Sor, there would be no one to speak for his race, and then surely the humans would extinguish them. Humans were usually a proud, good race, but when it came to others, to outsiders, they could be brutal and unforgiving.
Putting a soft hand on the lions head and raising his face to meet her gaze, Toci gave Sor a determined nod.
"Even though you claim not to be a god, you are my brother Sor. You should be welcome to all of our counsels because you share our father. I will convince my siblings and Fate itself to allow your people to fight. You will have my full undivided effort in this matter," she promised him, but even while she was making this promise, she did not know if it would be true or not.
Almost to signal to her that she would have to worry about things happening here, Toci saw in the distance on the ocean a boat. It could have been a normal boat for someone traveling from the shore of one village to another, but she knew better. She could see them working hard pulling something into the boat.
"Fishing," whispered Toci in a shocked, sad voice. "I knew that Tezoc allowed them to eat flesh, I... I hadn't actually believed they'd try it." Toci had forgotten all about the conversation she was having with Sor. "I didn't think they could murder their cousins."
Garmr "You're right," replied Garmr to Tyr. He muttered his thanks to the two in the room. "Please, send me a message if either of you figure out anything. I need to report back to the guardians what happened here."
He then began to quickly walk out of the room, knowing Tyr would follow him. They needed to get back to the council and report these things immediately. Who knew if the Guardians could even take these crazy monsters everyone was describing.
Azra'eil/Sigurdr A grey, scarred, decrepit human form limped into the room where an even weaker looking man was tied down to a table. Bandages covered the majority of the face of the twisted, monstrous man-like creature except for the mouth where the lips had been cut away, leaving a permanent, eerie smile.
"Only a few more minutes," said the grey form whispered to the brown haired man. "After these fifteen long years, you're almost done. You would be pleased to know that you lasted twice as long of any other human." He let out a hollow laugh now. It echoed off of the walls of the empty room. "But you should have just given in. You were dead the moment my blood mixed with yours."
The body on the table gave out a weak moan and the chains keeping him there rattled as if he was trying to get up and fight this monster one last time. He was able to lift his arm a few inches in the air before it finally hit the table again, never to rise again.
Azra'eil breathed deeply in to savor the moment. Nothing compared to the joy he felt when a human soul finally was erased completely from existence. The daemon of death systematically unlocked all the chains binding the cadaver. Standing there for a few more moments, he basked in the feeling. Then, Azra'eil did what he knew he had to to fulfill Kaos' wishes. He plunged a large, sharp fingernail of his right hand into a vein the wrist of his left hand. He traced the vein vertically up his arm, releasing his blood to the air. It did not turn red, like a human's blood would, but rather stayed the foul purple color.
Before any of the blood from his open wound could hit the ground, Azra'eil had his arm over the open mouth of his victim. As the blood ran down the throat of the man on the table, it was almost as though the decaying over the last fifteen years had never happened. This was the part of Azra'eil's powers that he hated the most. In order for the possession to become believable, the subjects had to look healthy and alive. Azra'eil hated to take on this form, but it was so he could spread his disease and death further, so it was a necessary sacrifice.
After a while, all the blood had drained from the body of the daemon into the victim. When the last few drops fell from the decayed body, it disintegrated. Because it was Azra'eil's natural form, he could get out it easily by willing himself out of this body. It was the entering of human bodies that was complex, not leaving them.
Then the form of the brunette man, looking as healthy and ready to work as the day he met the death daemon, stood up. "This one is much better than the last stinking humans I've had," Azra'eil said getting used to his new voice. He walked the length of the room a few times, trying to get used to how the body handled. It was always weird getting used to these forms. "I guess there is no reason to delay," Azra'eil thought aloud to himself. "Time to go to Forsavr and tell that witch of the Guardians that I've destroyed the death daemon."
Azra'eil let out a laugh at this. It was odd for him to hear such a genuine laugh coming from his throat, but that's just the odd way humans laughed. After getting over this new occurrence, Azra'eil set off, picking up the supplies he had packed for himself but left by the door.
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Post by atlantis on Jul 30, 2013 20:46:09 GMT -5
Soren
He shrugged at her apology. "Don't worry about it. It wasn't a good sleep anyway." He had half hoped to have been asleep for hours and hours, to wake up and find his sister was home safely.
Tizoc asked if there was anything she could do. He thought for a moment, doubting there was anything that could bring him comfort. Still, everything about her seemed completely open and trustworthy. She was kind and innocent; in some small way she reminded him of Svana and he found himself truly thankful for her presence there.
"Have you ever been lost at sea?" he asked. "You can't see anything but ocean for miles and miles. Even if you find your direction, you haven't got any way of knowing how far it is to land, or if you have enough food and water to get there." He got to his feet, dipped his hands in a bucket of water and wet his face to feel more awake. It was somewhat helpful. At least his eyes stopped burning for a second.
"This feels a lot like being lost," he admitted, sitting on the edge of the bed again. "I live in a world of wood and steel, facts and numbers.... Spirits and shadows-- they're not really my area of expertise. Until the night before last, I didn't even believe in them. And just like that, everything I thought I knew about the world is turned on its head. I don't know what's true anymore. I don't know if those things are coming back. Or why they attacked. Or what they were. I don't even know if Svana's alive. If I knew something, anything, then I might be able to get to shore again."
OT: and so begins the JP Zabbeh and I worked on ages ago.
Kalle
He passed under the arched walkway that led to Ara’s palace, ignoring the Guardians that kept watch over the entrance. His goddess had summoned him before dawn that morning, the call an urgent one by the sound of her words, and he was glad to attend her. Kalle waited patiently as the giant doors were opened for him before walking inside and heading directly for the goddess’s public quarters. “You wished to see me?” he asked with a graceful bow.
Ara was lovely as always and but for his well-trained eyes he wouldn’t have noticed the traces of fear written on her face. “There is something dark forcing its way into Itova, Kalle.”
The saint paused, taking in her words. “Dark?”
Ara stood from her chair and crossed the room, tall enough to do so in three strides. “I need you to do what you do best. You’ve groomed heroes in the past. That’s what the people need now.”
“A-Ara, heroes are chosen by forces greater than myself. I cannot create--”
“The Sunden family,” she interrupted. “Their son, Garmr, is one of the best Guardians we have. Surely that would be a starting point.”
Kalle nodded. “I’ll do what I can,” he answered, though he wasn’t sure this was the correct course.
Garmr Guiding his winged wolf to land softly at the guardian’s stable, he dismounted his steed and turned to his brother who was getting off his bear. “Tyr,” he said his brow furrowed. “We didn’t get time to spar on our trip and the tournament is almost upon us. I’m sorry for wasting such precious time like that.”
Tyr
He climbed off Venn, landing in the deep snow, his mind still on the information they had gathered. "You have more important things to worry about than that. Anyway, I'll be fine."
He walked closer to his brother, the image of Garmr's expression after hearing Lliira speak at the forefront of his thoughts. "You seemed... different while we were in Olethea. Is everything alright?"
Garmr Garmr’s jaw clenched. He knew exactly what his brother was talking about. Tyr always had this odd way of understanding when there was something wrong.
He sighed a little and said, “I don’t know yet, Tyr. Hearing that story, I got such a rush.... I can’t explain it. I’m probably just excited for a new battle.”
Tyr
Tyr frowned. Maybe that was the difference between a Guardian of quality and a boy in the Academy: anticipating your next fight instead of running from it. "Yeah, probably." He sighed in envy of his brother's instincts. "So, I should probably get home. Mother’s probably tearing out all her hair for worrying about me.”
Garmr “Yeah,” Garmr replied with a small laugh. “I’m not sure if she’d be more worried if Father told her what happened or if he didn’t. Either way, she probably needs to see you. I’ll see you at the tournament.”
Tyr
The next few nights were filled with nightmares, dreams of being chased by shadows, of being swallowed up, of his opponent in the tournament turning into one of the monsters and devouring everyone. The day of the big event was no different. He woke with a sweat, breathing heavily as he gathered his surroundings. The smell of breakfast outside his bedroom told him it was time to prepare for the day and he got out of bed.
Walking through the house, his entire body was filled with a bundle of nervous energy. He took a biscuit from the countertop in the kitchen where the governess was still busy cooking and strolled into the foyer of the Sunden home.
His father was standing by the door, pulling his coat around his shoulders as he got ready to leave. “Finally awake?” he asked gruffly. Tyr nodded silently. “Remember, all of your schooling, all your training, has been leading to this. Do not lose.” With this final word of advice, his father left the house to start on his busy day.
“Thanks,” Tyr muttered after the door shut. “Never would have thought of that.”
His mother came bustling in as he spoke the words. “I know your father can be harsh but he’s just worried about you. So am I.” She came closer and ran a hand through his hair. “But I know you’ll make us proud.” It didn’t sound like even she was convinced by her own act.
Tyr gave her a kiss anyway. “I should get going.” He made another quick sweep of the house, gathering all his things and snatching a few strips of bacon before leaving.
Kalle
He’d been informed by a local guard that he would find the entire Sunden household at the Academy that afternoon, attending the end-of-year tournament, and so he counted himself lucky as he took a place in the audience when it began.
They weren’t difficult to spot. Or at least the eldest son wasn’t. Still, he was less than impressed with Ara’s choice of hero. Certainly, he was strong. And well-equipped. He probably had a fair amount of talent. But he was merely a larger version of every other Guardian he’d ever met. Then he recognized him as the man who had been sent to Olethea several days prior. “Any word yet on the Aramazdian boy?” he asked, choosing a seat beside the family.
Garmr Settling in next to his family, Garmr was glad to be away from all the meetings, fancy talk, and politics. All of the last few days had seen him explaining again and again exactly what happened in Aramazd. He must’ve walked through the same story at least fifty times to various officials and such.
Garmr’s mood was just beginning to lighten when Kalle, one of Ara’s saints, plopped down next to him and asked about the Aramazdian affair. Garmr must have told the story to this man in one of the many meetings he had been forced to attend over the last few days, and he did not want to get into the discussion again right before one of the most anticipated events in the land.
“I’m sorry,” Garmr said in an obviously annoyed and overly saccharine voice. “I’m not allowed to discuss anything that happened in Aramazd outside of an official Guardian capacity.”
Kalle
“Ah, of course,” Kalle replied with a grin that seemed truly bizarre on his otherwise stern face. “I only thought I’d ask because the goddess believes you so well-suited to the task. I had imagined you would have more information by now-- as a dedicated Guardian of Itova.” He shrugged and turned back to the scene before them.
The two least qualified opponents were to compete first. One was a rather obese boy, but who looked able enough. The other was a frail thing and Kalle felt tremendously sorry for him, having predicted his fate. Then an announcer introduced them: “In our first round, Hakon Sigurdsson will take on Tyr Sunden!”
“Now I see. You’ve been busy fretting over your brother’s... success,” he said. “I can understand your concern.”
Garmr Garmr’s hand clenched into a fist and his jaw set as the saint insulted his ability to handle the task given to him. He took the abuse though because there was no reason for him to respond, but then the man took a slight against his brother. “Saint or not,” replied Garmr, annoyed, all sweetness gone from his voice. “If you don’t shut your gob, I’m going to shut it for you.”
Tyr
Hakon wasn't unfamiliar to Tyr. He had been chased by the oaf for many years and occasionally beaten. However, he wasn't difficult to outfox. Hakon favored his warhammer, which probably weighed about as much as Tyr. But he was slow where Tyr was quick.
Tyr managed to dodge every attack, making his way behind Hakon easily and slashing at his back with his sword. His opponent quickly became frustrated; his quick fuse was only another disadvantage. "A temper will only lead to folly, Sigurdsson," he advised, knowing it would only infuriate the brute even further. Hakon was on his trail now, moving more quickly than Tyr had ever seen him do.
Tyr hurried toward the portion of the arena where the students had spent many days training and exercising. He charged toward an obstacle course where tense ropes were tied at various angles from the bottom to the top and made his way through quickly, making sure that Hakon was following. He climbed up, through the ropes to stand on top of the course, turning to see Hakon fighting his way through and getting further and further stuck the harder he tried.
Tyr walked toward his fellow student. "You should have listened to me, Hakon," he said with a grin before leaping down and walking back toward the crowd while Sigurdsson shouted furiously behind him.
Kalle
"Those are big words," Kalle responded, unafraid of the Guardian’s threats. "But you're missing the spectacle." He watched as the youngest Sunden outsmarted his opponent quickly and efficiently. He couldn’t deny that he was somewhat impressed-- and somewhat surprised.
“It seems you had nothing to worry about after all,” he murmured as Tyr returned to the crowd. The audience seemed taken with the victory but the judges were less than thrilled, thumbing through their rulebooks and shaking their heads.
Meanwhile, Sigurdsson had found his way out of Tyr’s trap and was barrelling toward the boy at an alarming pace. “Behind you!” someone shouted from the crowd and Tyr turned just in time to take a blow to the head. Sigurdsson was all over the boy, shaking him and shouting about how he had cheated. Several officials hurried over to pull Hakon away, holding him in custody.
Kalle leapt out of his seat and rushed into the arena, meeting the judges halfway as some medics hurried past him. “The monster should be disqualified for that!” he yelled at one of them, a little more loudly than he meant to.
“I’m afraid they both are,” the judge answered. “It’s illegal to use other portions of the set during combat.”
Garmr Garmr’s anger and rage toward the guardian turned towards his brother as he saw what the boy was doing with his match. “Tyr!” he yelled, his voice dripping with disappointment. He knew the sound would never reach his brother, but it was important that he said it. “I told you not to trust those cheap tricks!”
He watched aghast as his brother was hit over the head, and he leaped from his seat when the boy started to shake his brother. He did not reach Hakon before the officials did, and thankfully, because that boy would not have all his teeth if he had.
He heard Kalle yelling about disqualification and the judge’s answer, and he argued back, “Please, give Tyr another chance,” he said desperately. “He didn’t realize he wasn’t allowed to use that part of the field. Let them both cool off and have another shot with different opponents! Please!”
Kalle
Listening to Garmr’s pleading, he almost felt bad for insulting him earlier. Anyone who could hold that much sympathy-- and that commitment to fairness-- deserved more than a first-impression judgment. But that argument would get him nowhere. “Isn’t it true that a Guardian should be able to go through the obstacle course with ease? It only makes sense that the course should be included in their trials.”
“I’m sorry,” the judge answered them with a shrug, though it didn’t seem he truly was. “Rules are rules.”
Behind Garmr, Mr. Sunden placed a hand on his son’s shoulder. “What’s done is done, Garmr. The judges are right.” Kalle couldn’t help but notice he almost had a sense of relief about him. “Let’s go home. The governess has prepared a dinner for us.”
“Sir? If you don’t mind, I’d like to come with you,” Kalle interrupted. “I have some matters of business to discuss with you and your family.”
Garmr The judge turned down Garmr’s pleads and his father told him he had to go home. There was so much pent up rage and anger from earlier and this whole situation that he shrugged his father’s hand off his shoulder.
He walked up to a pole in the corner of the field and released a mighty punch. The pole shattered in half and then Garmr, feeling much better, straightened up. He walked over to Tyr’s unconscious body, and effortly hoisted the kid onto his back. The medics were outraged at Garmr for doing this, but he assured them that they had a personal doctor who would be able to care for Tyr better than they would.
Then he walked back to his father and said, “Okay, I’m ready to go.” He didn’t realize at the time Kalle asked to join them.
Kalle
Watching Garmr express his rage, Kalle now saw exactly why Ara chose him. He followed the family, staying a few feet behind to not seem invasive and musing on Tyr's actions in the tournament. Ara may have selected Garmr as her champion, but he wouldn't leave Arenne until he had obtained the boy as well.
When they arrived in the Sunden home, he was graciously invited to the dinner table while Tyr was taken to his bedroom to be treated further by their family physician. He sat down at the table and allowed their servants to fill his plate.
“So, let’s cut to the chase, Kalle,” Mr. Sunden began. “What is the business you wished to discuss?”
“It’s about your sons, sir.” Kalle eyed Garmr, still not totally sure of his merits. “The goddess craves their assistance in dealing with a matter that threatens the world. She would make them heroes, to save all of Itova from a threat your eldest only recently investigated.”
Garmr When they got home, Garmr lovingly place his brother’s limp form on his bed. He mussed his brother’s hair up and whispered, “That was a really good trick. I would never admit it to you, but you’d probably make a better Guardian than me.”
Standing over his brother, Garmr reflected on his words. It was true that he had the fighting prowess of someone destined for great things, but Garmr simply didn’t have the patience for what his position demanded of him. He would rather be fighting a war than filing these reports and going to meetings. “I just wish I could solve everything on the battlefield,” said Garmr wistfully to his brother as he went to dinner.
As soon as Garmr entered the dining hall, he saw that jerk, Saint Kalle sitting at their table. He wanted to challenge the man to a fight right then and there for how he had disrespected him earlier, but he contained his vicious instinct. It would do him no good to get into a fight with a Saint, yet another example of politics Garmr wished he didn’t have to deal with.
Once their plates were full, Garmr’s father bluntly asked their guest what he wanted. Garmr had taken a large bite of the moose they had on their table when Kalle said it was about his sons, both of them, and the business at Aramazd. Garmr almost started to choke in surprise. His coughing was heard for what seemed like an eternity as he cleared his airways.
“I-I brought Tyr on that mission on a whim. I didn’t think it would matter,” replied Garmr with concern. “You can’t draft him on some suicide journey where he’ll be un-made!”
Tyr
He blinked slowly, rousing to a dark room. Clutching his forehead, he raised up and found himself in his bedroom. His head ached horribly; it took a few moments to remember what had happened. When he did, a sickness welled up in the pit of his stomach as he realized he had failed-- not only himself but his whole family. As much as he didn't want to, he got to his feet and began to make his way downstairs. He could hear voices in the dining hall, those of his father and brother, and that of another, one he didn't recognize.
"I'm afraid my son is right. You were present at the tournament, you saw what happened," he heard his father say. "Tyr will never be a Guardian; how can you expect him to be a hero?"
Then the stranger: “And why shouldn’t he be? I think perhaps it was you that missed what happened, sir. The boy fought with an ingenuity most Guardians lack.”
Tyr stepped into the hall quietly. “It’s okay,” he murmured. “They’re right. I’m not a fighter. And I never want to see the monster that took that boy. Not if I can help it.”
Garmr “This has nothing to do with whether or not Tyr would make a good Guardian!” said Garmr standing up and looking at the two men with defiance in his eyes. Then he heard Tyr’s voice floating in softly.
“He’s right,” said Garmr, thinking of the monsters that were described. “No one should have to see those things. They’re too dangerous for any mortal man to encounter,” he continued, but even to someone who didn’t know Garmr very well, it was obvious he was lying. He wanted to see the things. The same rush that overcame Garmr when he was hearing the story quickened his heartbeat yet again. There was a gleam in his eyes that seemed wild, dangerous.
“Just send me alone,” he said, his smile widening. “I’ll take on the horror of finding these things and ridding us of them.” He cracked his knuckles as he said this.
Kalle
“Alone you are nothing,” Kalle snapped. The young Guardian had taken on an unsettling demeanor he didn’t care for, yet Garmr was the one his goddess had requested; he could not fail in bringing the Sundens to her. “You do not possess all the qualities necessary to defeat these creatures. You cannot simply punch them into oblivion.”
Turning to the father, he added, “And you, would you deny Itova its salvation? You are both Guardians. Or has the term lost its meaning for you?”
“That’s enough!” Mr. Sunden roared. “I will not be insulted in my own home.”
“Of course, sir.” Kalle backed down. It wouldn’t do to insult them into submission. He’d have to use reason and honor against them. “My only point is that Itova requires the two of them. To deny either is to send the world into peril.”
Tyr
“But I don’t understand,” Tyr said, having come to the table now, standing by his brother who had once again donned that strange expression from Olethea. “What does any of this have to do with me? I don’t see what I could possibly do--”
Kalle shook his head, interrupting. “You are more capable than you believe. I beg of you, all of you, let him show his potential. This is his destiny. Their destiny.”
Garmr With the direct insult that Kalle directed at him and the blood-lust that was rising up in Garmr, he was about to jump Kalle then and there. It was only his brother, sliding in by his side that held Garmr back. He rested one heavy hand on his brother’s shoulder. It squeezed a little harder than he had intended.
“I know my brother’s full potential,” Garmr said, trying to fight the desire to jump the saint or run off and fight the entirety of these monsters by himself. “He would make one of the best Guardians the Academy ever produced, if he was given the chance, but he’s not ready. He can’t hold his own without resorting to cheap tricks. If he’s ever put in a situation where he can’t think his way out, like with these monsters, he’ll die! I’m telling you. I won’t let you send him on this mission simply because you think he has potential!”
Tyr
“And I won’t leave without him.” The saint had risen from his chair now, shouting at Garmr. “Why do you think it’s imperative that you both embark together? He will need you just as you will need him. This is no easy task and cannot be accomplished by any one person.”
“Stop; both of you.” Tyr stood between saint and brother, looking between both of them in hopes that the arguing would end. “Can we all agree that Ara will weigh me correctly? We’ll go to her and should she accept, then I will go with you.”
“That seems fair,” Mr. Sunden said behind him, though Tyr knew he only agreed to it because he couldn’t dream of Ara deeming his son acceptable.
“I will settle for that,” Kalle agreed. “We’ll meet in a week’s time in Aratonne, then?”
Garmr While what the saint and his brother were saying made sense, Garmr didn’t want to listen. He had protected his little brother his whole life. Ever since Tyr was born, Garmr devoted his life to protecting his younger brother. He even had a scar on his face to prove it, but looking into his brother’s eyes as he pleaded for them to take it to the goddess to decide, Garmr caved. The blood lust had completely emptied from his body now and he took a tired, submissive position.
“I’m sorry,” he said half-heartedly. “Of course, the goddess will decide what is best. I didn’t mean to cause so much trouble. I’m going to lie down.”
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Post by Bhunivelze on Jul 31, 2013 21:10:35 GMT -5
Ylla
Ylla was looking at the scenery while Markas was negotiating with the guards. It was all so different. Her surroundings had changed, people seemed colder and less happy. It was cold out too. Ylla just kept people watching until she heard Markas from beside her,
"Ylla, you should leave if you want to stay out of trouble,"
And with that she turned just in time to see Markas leap through the guards and crash into the doors. Letting her adrenaline take over Ylla drew her two knives and charged behind him. It’s a good thing Tiz isn’t here for this!
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Post by atlantis on Aug 4, 2013 19:32:53 GMT -5
OT: posting this here and we can finish it out normally. ^.^
Markas
He ran down the main corridor of the temple as fast as his legs would carry him, coming to a large circular lobby with halls heading in every direction. He paused only for a moment to decide on his direction, choosing a hall that led in a northeastern direction. They ran past pure white walls decorated with vibrant frescoes of the ocean and great Rovani battles.
But he hadn't the time to admire the beauty of the building. With guards close behind them, he was glad Ylla had followed; he would need her help if things turned nasty. He couldn't understand why the temple would have been closed to the public. Matka was known for his lack of formality and everyone was welcome in his home.
Ahead, he saw their hallway end, intersecting with the passage that circled the perimeter of the building. When they reached it, he turned to go right but found more guards coming their way. He whirled around, deciding on the other direction only to find another group there as well. They were surrounded. He drew his sword, ready for a fight.
Ylla
With her two blades in her hand, Ylla followed Markas down these unfamiliar halls. She was able to run faster than Markas, but she willingly stayed behind him for two reasons. She had no idea where she was going for one, and Itulei always told her to never show her full hand to even an ally.
She kept right behind him until they were surrounded. She lifted her blades to her starting position and spun to the rear of Markas, facing the guards behind him.
“Is this an everyday thing for you? If so then I should’ve become a pirate long ago!”
Markas
"It's not like I seek it out. Trouble just has a habit of finding me," he explained. There were probably fifteen guards around them, some with swords, others with spears or axes.
"Drop your weapons," one of them ordered.
"Take me to Matka," Markas countered.
The guard came closer, his blade extended cautiously. "If you don't stand down, we'll attack. Put down your sword."
Markas weighed his options carefully. There was a small chance they could win this fight, if he judged Ylla's talent correctly. But what good would it do to stain the temple with blood? Nevertheless, he had to get to Matka, for Soren's sake. "I don't want to hurt any of you," he began, and a ripple of snickers made its way through the crowd of guards. "But I have important information for Matka. One of my crew was taken by evil spirits."
This was only met with more laughter and once again he realized he wasn't getting anywhere. "Listen to me!" he commanded, his sword now inches away from the first guard's nose. It was a horrible mistake. The other guards leapt into action, descending on them all at once.
He blocked several attacks and kicked one of the guards away, sending him flying into two others. One of the guards managed a superficial slash at his side, leaving a deep scratch. Markas hit him on the side of the head with the flat of his sword, dazing him a bit. But two others grabbed his arms from behind and made him drop his sword.
The first guard, who was apparently the leader, came toward Markas, his face plastered with a smug grin. "Lock him up," he spat. "The girl, too." Though by the looks of it, they would be hard-pressed to restrain Ylla at all. But the guards binding his arms behind his back stopped suddenly when a voice shouted over the crowd.
Reijo
"Stop!" Reijo walked toward the mass of guards blocking the hallway, curious to see what was happening. As he pushed through the men surrounding their target, he was shocked to find a familiar face. "Markas Arensen," he catalogued. Then, looking to Ylla, he added, "And company."
To the lead guard he asked, "Why are you arresting a friend to Rovanieme? What have they done wrong?"
"Matka ordered complete privacy," the guard explained. "They broke through the door and attacked us."
"I tried to explain," Markas argued, but one of the guards behind him kicked him in the back.
Reijo surveyed the scene, coming to a quick conclusion. "It looks to me like you did most of the attacking here," he said to the guard. "Release them and return to your duties. I will speak with them. Matka needn't be bothered."
The guards did as commanded, though reluctantly, and Reijo began to stroll back down the hall to his own quarters, leaving time for the two captives to catch up.
Ylla
“Huh, well that’s better than no action at all.” She said smirking. Despite the fact the she might have to take out a few guards in a temple of Matka, Ylla was thrilled to be in some sort of danger in some new land. It was just what she wanted. Adventure.
Markas tried reasoning with the guard, but they all seemed so stern. Like they weren’t going to be moved. It was quite a shocking to see this compared to the relaxed atmosphere of Meia. She was trying to formulate a plan of attack in case things got physical, but she kept getting too excited. Would she become an outlaw? Would she be banned from the country? Would Markas or Tizoc have to go down with her if she did? These thoughts and more surged through her mind when it was interrupted by a sword coming at her face. She swiftly dodged and retaliated with a quick kick to the groin and then blocked another attack from beside her. She turned to see how Markas was faring when one of the guards hit her square in the mouth. She tripped backwards and was picked up by the guards and restrained. She tried to fight but the guards held their grip even tighter. The man she kicked in the groin was a little more rough than the others.
She was going to make one more attempt at breaking free when a voice boomed around the room.
The man walked toward the group with just a sense of importance about him. He looked at Markas and then to Ylla. He allowed the release of the two and started walking back to whence he came, motioning for the two to follow. She turned to ask Markas who this guy was, but instead noticed his wound. “That’s a pretty nasty cut. Here,” She said as she put his arm around her, “After you.”
Markas
Markas couldn't believe their luck as he gaped at the face of one of Matka's saints. They were released and Ylla offered him a hand. "It's nothing," he replied, but accepted her help anyway. They followed Reijo down the hall.
The saint turned to glance at them momentarily to be sure they were there. "You may not recognize me. My name is Reijo. I am the patron saint of journeys and travellers." He was dressed in such a manner that announced his title: a silken Ouranese tunic, Forsvarin boots, a vibrant red Aramazdian cloak-- he even wore trinkets with Nephilic symbols carved into them. He had literally been everywhere one could go and seemed the sort of man who could make friends with anyone who crossed his path. "So, why did you decide to storm into the temple and make enemies of the guards?"
"I-I'm sorry, sir," Markas replied. "They wouldn't believe me when I told them. Not many would. But I had to get through." He exhaled heavily, ready to tell his story all over again. He began to recount every detail he could remember but was stopped only shortly after he started.
Reijo had ceased his steady progression through the temple as soon as Markas described the draugar. He turned to look on them with a steady and fearful gaze. "Perhaps Matka should be disturbed after all. Come with me," he said, taking the next left, leading them up a staircase.
"What do you mean?" Markas wondered.
"Your friend wasn't the first person to disappear," came the terrifying reply. "People have been going missing for about a couple weeks. That's why Matka is meeting with Ara now."
"Ara's here?" Reijo nodded. Ara's presence meant serious danger. She didn't visit Rovan much. Even in seasons of high piracy. They came to the second floor which appeared to house only one room. The great door was slightly cracked open and two voices were coming from inside.
Matka/Ara
"This has gone on too long," Matka declared, leaning over a desk, staring at its surface with rigid determination. His sister Ara had paid him a surprise visit. And it had been such a nice day so far. "People are beginning to talk. To fear. And your Guardians have yet to find a solution. We need help. We need to call a Council."
"Don't be such a coward. This is nothing I can't handle," Ara argued, her voice sounding half-bored with his worry.
His anger boiled over and he could no longer focus on the surface of the desk. "An Aramazdian boy disappears in broad daylight and you call it nothing?!" he shouted, glaring at her.
Ara was used to his outbursts by now, though. She simply tucked a long strand of blond hair behind one ear and shifted her gaze to the sky out the vast window behind him. She was seated comfortably in a well-cushioned chair as though the recent events truly were nothing to fear, as though nothing was wrong at all. "I've already sent my best to Aramazd."
Matka heaved a heavy sigh, already tired of the conversation. "We can't do this on our own. We need to seek Guidance." When she didn't respond, he stepped a few feet closer to her, quieting his voice so he wouldn't be overheard by any passersby in the hallway. "Doesn't this feel like... before?" He said the last word as though it carried a grave meaning, but she understood without trouble.
"That's exactly why I came here," Ara answered, rising from her seat. "It's a little more like the First War than I want to believe. I wanted to make sure you haven't been trying to bring back a certain daemoness?"
Matka said nothing for a moment, lost in the audacity of Ara's accusation. "You think I have something to do with this? That I would sacrifice the lives of my own people?"
"For your lost love," she confirmed, now with a touch of heat in her voice. "Don't pretend you haven't betrayed us before."
The memory of Akola always jarred him, even after all this time. His reaction was different each time. Sometimes one of anger, whether at her, himself, or his family. Sometimes one of great sadness. And sometimes one of withdrawal from everyone and everything. This time it was like a dagger through the center of his chest, a heavy feeling of shame and grief over his own weakness.
Before he could retaliate, a knock came at the door. Reijo's head poked in. "I'm sorry to bother you, sir. But... I have someone you want to talk to."
Markas
He entered the room close behind Reijo, walking into a beautiful, spacious room. The edges were adorned with white columns and the walls and ceilings were completely done in frescoes. An ornate desk was placed in the center of the room, backdropped by an enormous window that looked out over the city, the ocean, and the neighboring islands of Narke and Dovre. And in the middle of all of it stood Ara and Matka.
"Arensen," Matka began, though Markas was still lost in awe. "I've been expecting you."
"You... knew I was coming?" Markas asked incredulously. He wasn't really sure how he was expected to behave, so he knelt in reverence.
Matka only smiled. "Isn't it expected that I should listen to my people?"
"Of course," Markas answered, feeling embarrassed that he had never thought of being anticipated. "I came for my friend, Svana. You must know what happened.... I need to find a way to bring her back."
"Impossible," Ara snapped so quickly and emphatically that Markas's attention was torn from Matka and placed on her. "The girl doesn't exist anymore."
"Ara," Matka growled in warning.
"What?" she demanded. "Would you rather I lie to him? Wasn't it you only moments ago, droning on about the seriousness of it all? The shadows ripped her apart. Not just her body. Her life, her soul-- the very fabric of her being."
"That's enough!" Matka shouted threateningly. Ara only blinked back at him, though a smug sense of superiority still lingered on her face. "It's time you left. I'll call for the Council, whether you agree to attend or not." Ara left without another word.
Markas's head was still reeling with everything she'd said. "Is it true? Can the draugr erase people?"
"These things... they're not draugr. They're not from this world." Matka's voice carried a deep sense of foreboding and a raggedness, as though he were very tired. "Ara believes she can contain the problem, but she's mistaken. I plan on gathering my brothers and sisters, to seek help from our father. Whatever's happening, it's not simple or easily beaten. Stay in Rovanieme a few more days. I'll summon you when I have an answer." With a nod to his saint, he added, "Reijo, will you show them out?"
Ylla
When Reijo directed them to the conference room Ylla started to feel out of place more than ever. Both Ara, Goddess of Justice, and Matka, God of Independence were standing before her and she was there in her typical Meian clothing, a bloody lip, and bewildered expressions. She was looking at literal gods and couldn’t find words to say. For a moment she forgot how to move. She could be killed just for looking at one of the two incorrectly.
When Markas knelt in respect, Ylla did the same to try to seem like she knew what she was doing, when he stood, she stood. Markas spoke to the gods and seemingly without fear. Seeing this display, Ylla started thinking of Lotanni. After hearing the way the Rovani on the ship talked about Matka and how Markas said the Temple of Matka was usually open. Why was it that no one had seen Lotanni in years? Tizoc had told stories of the council of Chalco conversing with Toci, so why was it that the Priests of Lotanni never mentioned seeing him? They would just say they were all “guided to this conclusion”. Ylla pondered this until she heard Matka command Reijo to show them out.
When they had left the room she leaned over to Markas and whispered, “I kinda got lost in thought there, can you give me a rundown of what happened?”
Markas
“Ara says Svana’s gone,” Markas answered when Ylla asked for a recap. “The... shadows, I guess... they didn’t just take her, they made her disappear.” He shut his eyes, trying to wrap his head around what the gods had said. “How can I tell Soren his sister doesn’t exist?” he asked, running his hands through his hair.
“I, for one, haven’t lost hope that those taken can’t be brought back,” Reijo said from up ahead. “Maybe I’m a fool, but... Kyros is still the origin of all life and I just can’t believe his creation could be un-made like that.”
Markas hoped the saint was right. A power that destructive terrified him at his very core. He could only hope his sigils could protect them until they received an answer from Matka. Reijo led them to the shattered front door of the temple and bid them farewell as they headed back to Sjodrekkar and its crew. “We’re to stay docked here a while longer,” he continued to explain to Ylla. “Until the Council of the Gods is over.”
He became lost in thought as well, as they made their way back across the city. That odd sense of dread was back. He could feel it in his very bones. “Something evil is happening. Something bigger than we can imagine,” he said quietly. Even the gods seem frightened by this, he thought.
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