Become as You Are
Log Info
- Title: Become as You Are
- Emitter: Zeke
- Characters: Zeke, Mikilos, Seldan, Cryosanthia, Geir
- Place: A10: Temple District
- Time: Wednesday, April 29, 2020, 2:15 PM
- Summary: Seldan, Mikilos, Geir and Zeke have gathered with Cryosanthia to use the Golden Apple to restore her memories. She is nervous, but willing to go through with it. After eating the apple Cryo dives for Seldan's blade, Reunion and cuts her left hand. Suddenly everyone is reliving her memories. Vividly. The full eighty years of her imprisonment are experienced, the despair, the torture, the enigmatic behaviour of Salina. Two things in the tower bring her hope. Menel, and Zeke. Cryo discovers how she was twisted to kill her foundling, and the manner of her escape. The knowledge shocks everyone and nearly shatters her. Cryo realizes she has doomed her cihuaa to suffer the Tower with her, and that he will be taken soon. Zeke wishes to make cihuaa immediately, but is summoned. Everyone resists him leaving and Salina's presence is felt. Geir is frozen instantly, Cryo is taken by Sheldon into Mikilos' magic mansion, and the mage pursues Zeke as he goes to answer Salina's call. In the aftermath, Cryo is strangely calm. As much as she wants to fall into her despair, Zeke needs her, so she won't. The Tower has added itself to her mental landscape, making her stronger than ever.
=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=<* A10: Temple of Daeus *>=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-
The temple of the Sun Lord glitters golden beneath the same. Rather than walls, the majority of the temple is composed of what appears at first blush to be a raised round platform made of one of the largest slabs of marble likely in existence. Columns rise into the air as if to hold some massive ceiling, though instead of a normal ceiling, one finds the deep blue sky, studded by a disconcertingly close canopy of bright stars. One should not worry, however, as the rain never falls, and the wind never blows on this particular temple, but for a gentle breeze, whatever the weather outside may be.
Despite the austerity of the columns, warmth suffuses the grounds. A grand, marble statue of the Shining Knight stands a the center, a hand outstretched in benediction. Beside Him, the statue of Althea, their hands clasped in love. The central position of the temple to the others gives view to all of their children, and the two look upon one another with the solemnity of love that has been the center of so many tales and legends.
Masterfully designed mana lamps provide further soft, golden lightning where needed, their pedestals carved in the form of the Dragons of Light, over which Daeus is said to have dominion in His form of Draco Solis. Majesty, justice, and welcome suffuse the temple grounds. Around the central temple are a series of smaller buildings, each with a simple function and form. One houses the sacred book depicting some of the earliest known translations of the Laws of Light, which pilgrims from near and far come to visit. Another houses the well-appointed quarters of the Sunguards, and among all the ground bristle the Sunblades.
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- Appearing, in Order -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Zeke 6'8" 239 Lb Sith-Makar Male A blue-scaled sith-makar in white Daeus vestments Mikilos 6'8" 180 Lb Dawn Elf Male Tall male dawn elf, rosey blonde and handsome. Seldan 5'11" 187 Lb Human Male Ginger-blonde human in armor wearing Eluna's symbol. Cryosanthia 6'9" 267 Lb Sith-Makar Female A dashingly tall, elegant white-scaled lizard woman. Geir 5'8" 200 Lb Sith-Makar Male A short, copper-scaled Sith-makar. -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=
It's a beautiful day outside, but today they're not outside enjoying the light of the sun or the crisp spring air. They're inside the temple of Daeus in a back room where Zeke has carefully set up a room for the possible return of Cryosanthia's memories. He has firmly set himself between her and the door. The prayers to the Dragonfather are on the cusp of his mind ready to heal the female sith should anything go wrong. His tail flick-flicks as he looks toward Seldan and then toward Mikilos. The room is large enough to fit them all comfortably. Big enough that if they need to fight Cryosanthia they can. There's a distant awareness in the room that such might be necessary.
Zeke hums low in his throat. Both to comfort himself and to comfort Cryosanthia who has been asked to sit on the bed. They surround her with their presence. There's no tea. Nothing for Zeke to do but stand here uncomfortably and wait for Seldan... and for Cryosanthia.
Mikilos has very little idea what to expect, none of them do, so the wizard does his best to be prepared for anything. Not that his track record on that has been so great. So the wizard stands anxiously, hopeing it all works out.
Seldan wears full armor and gear, wizard robe over it, and is fully armed. Dark circles again hang under his eyes, and he bears the look of one who has a great deal on his mind, but he seems coherent enough, the ice-blue eyes clear and present and focused. "Zeke, my call upon Her for healing is spent for the day. Let us hope that it is not required." It is clear that the man in blue and silver is quite familiar with Zeke at least, and possibly Cryosanthia as well.
He bears in one hand a small, plain wooden box, and this he offers to the white-scaled sith-makar without further comment. Cryosanthia has been facing this with some trepidation. Looking forward to, isn't quite the feeling, neither is dreading. Mostly, it's doubt. The whitescale sith sits on her bed, looking at the others, feeling a little like she's facing an inquisition. Her tail flicks nervously. She smells nervous, the other two sith would easily tell that. She looks over at the Dawn Elf.
"Do you know how it will go? Will it be everything at once, will I relive all the years as if I was fully experiencing them, day by day? Will it be like regular memories? Mostly a blurr of same days with a few high points."
Her gaze drifts around, to Seldan, Geir, her cihuaa, back to Mikilos. "Should it be one bite, like the fairy tales or the whole apple at once. Are the seeds poisonous? If we cut it up, would it still work and we could save the seeds for... purposes?"
Enough questions will delay this, even though she takes the box.
The copper-scale watches in impassive silence. Looking almost fully formed from copper, he, like Seldan, is fully armed and armoured. It has been polished to a very high sheen, the tabard freshly sewn, the scales of the Deathdragon black in contrast to the cloth's grey. A hand rests upon the pommel of the khopesh sheathed at his belt, while his shield is strapped to his back.
At length, he draws a deep breath. "One wishess one had answerss for you. It is a legendary thing, earned, as you do know, after hard fought trialss. One thinkss it is enough if it workss."
Zeke's gaze takes in Seldan for a very long moment. Considering the man as if he might ask a question, or perhaps even several... but now is not the time so he leaves the words unspoken. Instead he hums low in his throat once again to calm Cryosanthia. "Peasssce Cryosssanthia. We are here for you. Thisss one isss here." He tries to exude calm, but he is not a paladin with that ability, but he wags his tail and gives her what he can. His presence.
Mikilos shakes his head. "Sadly, I have no idea. There are tales about magically regaining lost memories, but they're very short on details. As for the seeds, I suspect they need very special conditions to grow. Conditions not found on this plane, though I certainly wouldn't just toss them away, just in case."
"In truth, the tales may not be wholly correct, Cryosanthia," Seldan offers levelly. "It resembles more closely a plum than an apple. I would not place my faith in the accuracy of tales. It seems that we have but one way to learn the truth. The choice is yours, and I shall not compel you to it, but you are our best hope."
"Well... I should make myself less dangerous." Cryosanthia sets the box on the bed beside her, near to Zeke. She turns her head, smelling of slight embarassment, and stares at the wall. Bringing her hands up, they transform into her wicked claws. At the same time, her jaw becomes a maw full of huge teeth. It's a very creepy, predatory grin. Her sharp fangs gleam, she looks feral, bestial. It seems to last forever, for her, sitting like some sort of animal in front of her friends. Especially one whom she's bitten. It takes only a minute before they fade and she's herself.
She looks back at the group and starts casting. Unusually, it's her right hand, normally she uses her left for spells though the reason becomes apparenty soon enough. As her highlight scales finish flickering, a dagger appears in her hand. It's formed from an icicle, with a ball of ice surrounding her hand as the hilt. She sets it on the bed and it melts away. She repeats this three more times.
"Huh." The sith says, "I still have magic. Hmm. Let me try something." With her left hand she starts tracing out symbols, a ward. Seldan would clearly recognize it, his Protection from Evil spell, simplified and with substitutions. Cryo's dragon-eye arcane mark glows briefly in all the places Eluna's would, and the spell finishes with a small sword, representing reunion which turns into a moon, in honour of the source. She glows briefly then weakly smiles, "Protection from Self."
The blue-scaled sith shifts uncomfortably, watching Cyrosanthia transform and use her magic so that it can not be used against them should something go wrong. All of them really, are expecting something to go wrong. There are no more comforting words to offer, no more words that Zeke could offer that would not be untrue. He holds his tongue and watches Cryosanthia, calms the pounding of his own heart so that all he gives her is the calming scent of him. The self-assurendness that he doesn't truly feel. One can not lie with ones scent, but in this moment he surely wishes that he could.
Geir watches as Cyrosanthia goes through a retinue of spells. He clears his throat quietly. "One would not think you dangerouss to your friendss and family. As it is, we would gladly face such a danger together. One wonderss if you might need those magicss, your power, for what may come of eating the fruit."
Mikilos watches with the casual intrest of a magical professional. It's alawys intresting to see how someone else does magic. Maybe not the ideal circumstance, but you take what you get.
Seldan's eyebrows raise at the last spell, and something about it draws a smile from the paladin that hints at laughter. "When did you learn that? A useful and wise choice indeed." He looks over at Geir, the smile fading abruptly. "Do not assume that, although the warding spell may well help. Among its powers is the prevention of compulsion by evil." That short explanation done, he draws a deep breath, as one focusing himself. Zeke may not have an aura of calm, but the fair man seems to, and when he looks up and turns back to Cryosanthia, it is with calm if tired confidence.
"It's... safer this way, Shaman Geir, and very recently Seldan."
Cryosanthia takes the box into her lap. She's holding it closed with her thumbs. She looks at Seldan, seeing him clearly now, how tired he looks. The Mikilos, who has gone through a lot. The both of them, to get this for her. Geir is a friendly face, a welcome comfort and Zeke's always is. The presence and confidence of her cihuaa bolsters hers many ways. Her words are to convince herself, as much as the others.
"I'm going to go through with it. It's why I went in the first place, to bring something back. You have sacrificed for me, so much. I apologize, if I lose control again. I have to do this to make it all worthwhile, to stop her. I can do this. I will do this."
She looks up, determined, thumbing the box open to observe the plum-like apple resting inside it. She is transfixed by the fruit, takes it up. Her words are entirely to fuel her confidence."This is my battle, this is what I do. I'm a Speaker."
Cryosanthia peels all the flesh off the fruit in one involved bite that leaves her holding the seed, and swallows it down. Zeke wags his tail at Cryosanthia one last time before she takes up the fruit. Watches as she peels the flesh from the fruit with her teeth and is left holding only the seed. Watches intently as she swallows it down. There's nothing he can do. He feels, in his heart utterly useless. The blue-scaled sith doesn't move. Doesn't breathe. He waits for the inevitable.
The copper-scale shakes his head slowly. "One assumess nothing. None of us knowss what will happen here and now. One simply pointss out that she may require her power for the trial ahead. Yess, she may be a danger... but it may be more dangerouss for her to be unpowered." Geir rolls his shoulders in a shrug. "Moot."
He watches as Cryosanthia devours the fruit, his tail curling back and forth behind him.
Seldan favors Geir with a level look, but holds his peace, instead turning to watch Cryosanthia intently. A look over at Zeke, and he reaches to gently touch the blue crystal claw next to him, a gesture meant to be reassuring without disrespecting space.
The whitescale sith waits. In her fractured mental landscape some pieces of her have become distinct enough she envisions and names them. An empty white tundra, an iceberg of emotions that even the visible element overwhelms. An emotional guardian in the form of a pet dragon, a sith-fae she watches herself with. She, they, are all lined up, waiting.
Visible, Cryosanthia sits there. She seems normal. She blinks, a shocked expression crossing her face. Her pupils spread. That's the only warning. She lunges for Seldan. Dive as the man, shoulder first as she scrambles to grab his sword. To draw it from the scabbard.
"Reunion! I need Reunion! I have to cut! Cut! Cut IT!"
She's trying to get her left hand under the edge, slice the snowflake on the back of it.
The spill of blood is sharp and quick. And the reaction to the magic inside of Cryosanthia immediate. And something that no one in the room expects. You are - all of you - suddenly and explosively thrust into Cryosanthia's memories. You're not sure if you're watching them play out, or if somehow you're living them.
Seldan is expecting Cryo to go for him. Reunion is half out already. He's holding it for her when she hits it.
Mikilos tried to be ready for anything. This is well outside the 'anything' he tried to prepare for.
All at once, eighty years of memories slam into you. Eighty years of torture and indignity. Eighty years of being a slave to a being that didn’t care one whit about you, but seemed to take great care to keep you alive for reasons beyond your fathom. Memories of being taken apart and put oh-so carefully back together again. The mark on your hand so carefully created. With needles and a small knife. Over and over until it’s sunken into your flesh forever. A mark you can not erase. Your mistress’ mark. Your mistresses hand’s. Your mistresses voice. Taking notes for her as she killed people pitilessly. Never for the seeming joy of it, but always with some purpose beyond your ken. Cleaning up the bodies and blood that were left in her wake. Eighty. Years.
You know that the tower moves to her call. That she can shape and shift it to her whim. The exact layout of the tower is beyond your knowing because every door leads where she wants it to go and nowhere else. All you can be certain of is that the dungeons always seemed to be below her laboratory, and that there was a huge magic circle above that, and above that… places you were never allowed to go.
In all those years of torment you only had two comforts. Your hatchling Menel, and your mate. Thoughts of them kept you sane and whole when nothing else could. Menel. You remember him. Him as a little boy. Watching your hatchling tortured by your mistress and unable to stop it. Stop her from calling your son ‘Monster’, and whipping her mark into his back day after day. He was so little at first. But he grew quickly as children are wont to do. Past the age where you could really call him ‘hatchling’ anymore. To the time when he would have chosen a caste if only… But there’s no caste for him here. No comfort for him but you. So when he’s thirteen you help him escape by throwing his body in with the other corpses after one particularly brutal beating. You don’t even /know/ that he’ll survive the trip, but you hope that he will, and anything… even death would be better than the life you’re living.
Your mistresses punishment almost kills you.
It’s not you she takes it out on though. Not you she tortures when you’ve most failed her expectations. She knows where your heart truly lies. With your mate.
Zeke. You remember Zeke. Zeke in the tower /with/ you. Zeke who at first you were fond of, but not truly close to. Zeke who smiled fondly and called you cihuaa and was always so gently patient. So certain that one day you would love him like he loves you. Zeke, who bore your worst punishments and believes in the Dragonfather even here. Even though he’s empty of the blessings of his god because no other power has power here but Her. He comforts you even when it’s his body broken by your mistress. Comforts you through the worst of times. Even when the mistress begins to twist your mind.
You can’t stop it. Even though in some way you know what’s happening.
She sends men that look like Menel to hurt Zeke, forces you to choose between your hatchling and your mate. Again, and again. Over and over until killing your hatchling is second nature to you. Until the very sight of him fills you with such trembling rage… And you weep in the night to your beloved Zeke that one day you’ll kill him for real. That you’re the real monster but Zeke is right there to comfort you once again. Murmuring that you won’t. That you won’t kill your hatchling. And you believe him. Because even when you want him to Zeke doesn’t lie.
One night, you find a means to escape yourself. You don’t want to go. Not without your mate. Not without the only thing that keeps you happy. But he pushes aside your fears and tells you that the Dragonfather will keep him while you are gone. That he can’t live knowing that he’s the reason you’d stay. It’s the promise that he’ll end his own life if you don’t take the chance that spurs you to go. Because you know that for you… he would. He’d do anything for you.
So you escape. You escape as whole and hale as Salina promised you would. It takes days, days of wandering the wilderness until you’re half-starved and stumbling, brokenly into the inn once again. The same inn that you walked out of eighty years ago. The same time. The same place.
GAME: Seldan rolls will: (16)+23: 39
Zeke is on his knees, the memory so powerful that it knocks him down.
Cryosanthia screams. It's all she can do. One long unending scream.
Geir is silent throughout the ordeal, his eyes locked to the scenes that play out before him. Around him. The scents and sights of fear and death. The only hint of what goes on inside his head are his eyes and the faint waft of acrid smoke that trails from his nostrils. At first there is shock. Then upset and sadness. As some fall to their knees and others scream (are they even real or imagined?), anger smolders there, as tears roll freely and plop to the ground at his feet. But he takes it all in... in complete silence.
Mikilos blinks hard. Break it down. Shatter the memories and shove the pieces aside, dealing with what can be processed one bit at a time. In some ways, it's worse, drawing things out, but it's how the wizard functions... if this can be called functioning... From Seldan's instant reaction, the way he lightning-quick goes for the blade at his hip, he was at least halfway expecting Cryosanthia to lunge for him. She's so quick, though, that the blade is only half-out of the scabbard when Cryosanthia strikes it. Her blood sprays across him, and suddenly, they are all thrown into memories unspeakable.
He, too, crumples to his knees, both hands on the hilt of the bloodied sword, now point-down into the stone floor. Curiously, though, it is not him speaking. Instead, it's an older woman's voice, nasal in quality but not unkind. "Seldan. Seldan. Stay with me. This is not you, nor is it Carissa. Your time and space is another. You are here and now. Stay with me."
Seldan's expression as he leans his forehead on the pommel is haunted, a grief beyond tears, but he draws deep breaths, and slowly steadies himself.
Like a blink the memory is gone. A flash of shared anguish sucked back into the source of its creation. Cryosanthia. Only she holds the actual memories. They only blinked within you for a moment. Shared in a vicious manner that fades like an unwanted touch.
Zeke breathes heavy into the sudden silence, shaking away the images given to him from Cryosanthia's perspective. For a moment, it was eighty years of living in another's flesh. He sends a pulse of healing through the room, closing the wound on Cryosanthia's hand and wobbling to his feet. He's horribly unsteady, but he manages this much. To go to Cryosanthia. He doesn't know what to say to her, but he goes to her nonetheless.
Cryosanthia tried to prepare herself, steel herself for what was coming. The 80 years come as a giant Tower, slamming down. Becoming a part of her mental landscape, taking over her inner world. Dominating it. Her selves are crushed. There is no coping. Her body wracks as she relives these events, the pain, down to her very bones. A flash for everyone else, but for her back to stay. She feels it all. This is real. She is there. Zeke is there. She never left. It happened, it is happening, it will happen again. There is no escape.
"Zeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeke" Her words mix with her distress cry. She's doomed him. She'll lose him. She'll kill him. She grabs at the bluescale, his hand. She stares at him, eyes black, a mournful cry of overwhelming loss. She barely gasps, "You... you... noooooo..."
Mikilos blinks again, squeezing his eyes shut as if to crush the dull ache behind his eyes with his lids. A slow breath, and the wizard opens them again, looking to see all is... stable, if not exactly well. "In.... in retrospect... maybe should have asked... Queen Niceven... how the fruit is used..."
"You are in Alexandria. The Temple of the Sun Dragon", comes a low, dulcet voice. The copper-scale still stands stock still, but his eyes look to the pale-scale and blue-scale Sith. "The fruit has caused all of us to experience your memories returned. Apparently, in answer to your question, it returns them all at once, in one mad rush." His tail thrashes about behind him, seemingly at random. "That was ... beyond words."
Seldan hasn't moved yet, though, from where he kneels by the door, to all appearances stunned in some way. He doesn't answer or respond to any of the others, just yet, and only the old woman's voice continues to talk, evenly and calmly. "I hope I never get anything like that again from you."
"I hope I never get anything like that again at all," chimes in a younger woman's voice in a lower register, followed by a chorus of agreement.
"You've got to get yourself under control, boy, you'll never accomplish anything like that." An old man's voice, irascible and sounding impatient. "You're a mess."
"Are we? Are we Zeke?" Cryo is clutching at her mate, "is this another of her tricks? Are they real, are you here? Are we still in the Tower? Are you still in the Tower? I've doomed you. It's me. I'm the reason it's going to happen to you. It's not real, it's not real!"
Except it is. All too real. A past that can't be undone.
Zeke glances briefly over at Seldan, worry for the man strong, but Cryosanthia... She grabs his hand and he's too full of emotion to be afraid. He goes to his knees again and looks at her with an expression that she remembers from sharing a lifetime with him. A quiet expression to soothe her fears and remind her that she isn't alone. "Thisss one isss here. We are in the temple of the Dragonfather. It isss in the passst." Not for him. For him it's the future. But he doesn't say that, won't say that. "Thisss one iss glad Cryosssanthia. Thisss one wasss there for you. Thiss one doess not regret it. Hussssh. Hussssh. Then, and now we are together."
"I'll come for you Zeke. I'll come for you. I won't give up. I won't stop. I won't. I'm coming. I'm coming. As soon as I leave I'm coming back. Hold on. It has to be this way. You've been so strong for me. You've gone through so much for me. Zeke. Oh Zeke." Cryosanthia holds him tight. Is she promising now, is this what she said when she left him in the Tower. The twisted timeline warps her mind. They are together but will be separated again. They will be together again, and have to break. The cold, unyielding reality slams into her instincts, her love, her present. She's going to lose him. Knows it to her soul, and she might not get him back.
Geir slowly moves to Seldan's side, a hand reaching out to carefully grasp the man's shoulder. "You may lean on me, if you have need.", he says quietly to Seldan. Looking to Mikilos, he cants his head slightly, and chuckles lightly. "Always follow the directions on the label.", he says under his breath. "Should we go, Zeke? Leave you two alone to recover? Or should we go somewhere more... conducive to recovering?"
Mikilos smiles faintly, nodding to Geir. There's little he can do to help Cryo just now, but maybe... maybe he can help in general. His own memories of the Tower are locked away, but, there was a flash of... familiarity. Deja vu. Maybe.... maybe something jarred lose. Maybe, just maybe, something useful.
A rich, middle-aged baritone voice emerges from the sword next, the words crisp and clear, the accent nearly identical to Kanian's. "Kanian, you have little room to talk." Before the new voice can say more, though, Seldan blinks in surprise, looks at the sword, then up at the clawed hand on his shoulder. "No ... I am well." With an effort, and leaning on the hilt of the blade, Seldan pushes himself to his feet, breathing out heavily as if blowing the last of a cloud of emotions away. "They are quite right, I fear, but She has erred. When one would trouble someone with nightmares, a servant of the Dreamer is a poor choice." A flash of a smile, and he murmurs a quick cantrip, cleaning the blood off of the blade - curiously, the blood vanished from his armor the moment it struck the plates.
GAME: Seldan casts Prestidigitation. Caster Level: 13 DC: 16
Old familiar fear creeps up Zeke's spine, but he lets Cryosanthia hold him. Lets her cry and scream and make promises. "Ssssh." He soothes her with his crystal claw. "Thisss one knowssss. Thisss one knowsss." He looks up, none of the horror from having seen such a terrible fate waiting for him written on his features. He looks at Seldan. Meets the man's eyes and... Perhaps the sith are not very good at having silent conversations with those that are not sith, but there is something to be said for the unspoken bond between those that protect. He knows that he will one day not be here for her, and he asks Seldan silently to be there for her when he can not be. He thrums for her. Low comforting tones to calm her. "Ssssa my cihuaa. Thisss one knowssss."
"It seems to me that you may have gleaned some information from that lifetime of experience just now?", Geir asks of Seldan, though he gives Mikilos a look as well, before turning to Zeke and Cryosanthia. As Seldan stands, Geir's expression grows more cheerful, almost mirthful, and he gives the Paladin a hearty slap on the back... not too hard, but Seldan knows he's been backslapped. "I have faith in you, Seldan of the Sun. Your example will light the darkness."
Turning, the copper-scale moves to the two sith, his eyes on Cryosanthia. "You have escaped. As has Zeke. You are among friends, and among the living." He eyes Zeke then. "You have endured three nightmares now, each a lifetime. I think you should know, you are much stronger than you believe."
"You are so brave Zeke. You are so strong. You were so strong. How can you face it, everything you went through? You are so beautiful. All that time. Everything She did to you. You saved me. I chose this for you and you didn't break. I'm coming back Zeke. I'm coming. We're all coming. Hold on." Cryosanthia keeps the embrace, half there, half here. Hearing voices. Knowing, no matter how often she thinks she's finally endured everything her Mistress can come up with, there is another surprise. The horrible truths keep dawning in her mind, every day of decades of the sun rising on a new tapestry full of tortures.
"She hasn't taken him yet Geir," the whitescale says, fearful of voicing the words, as if it will call Her through the door this instant. "Zeke's days are numbered... until they are inevitable..."
Mikilos keeps quiet. Maybe he could offer reassurance, but there's too much he just doesn't know. Time travel, the past meeting the future. Fate? There's just too much to be sure.
Seldan's smile in response to Geir's assurances and statement of faith is genuine and real, lighting his eyes, but fades at Zeke's look. He simply nods to the sith-makar, all pretense of mirth flown away. "I mean to see to it that no more are taken," he states, sheathing the blade again at his hip and keeping his hands clear of it. "Master Mithralla, may I have the use of your warded spaces, for an evening?"
Satisfied by Seldan's nod, Zeke turns his eyes on Geir. He understands what the other sith is saying, that he is trying to offer reassurance. The blue-scaled sith however doesn't seem to need it. As if in having seen his future he has found a measure of peace. He doesn't argue, only shakes his head at Cryosanthia's words and hums for her. He has no way of knowing if Seldan can prevent the future that they have just seen played out, there are many things that he does not understand. "Do not think of it Cryosssanthia. Do not let her fill your mind with darknessss. Thisss one isss here now and..." He hesitates for a moment and then hums low to her. "Thisss one would asssk that we make cihuaa. Thisss one doess not.... want to leave you before it isss done."
"All of our days are numbered.", the copper-scale says evenly. "We all go to meet the Deathdragon at our own time." He looks to Zeke then, a browridge raised. "So it is both the past and the future then, what we saw. Her past, your future?" Geir's other browridge rises up at Zeke's suggestion, and the copper-scale nods. "I think that was the suggestion I made earlier. I could do so right now, right here."
"Yes! Yes Zeke Yes. I choose you. You are my cihuaa. Let's make it so!" Cryosanthia releases him from the embrace so she can hold both his hands, inhale his scent. Her heart is racing, and she smells of all sorts of pain and panic. She spares a quick glance around the rest of the room, "These are more than enough witnesses. I would. Let's do it."
Seldan is still waiting for a response from Mikilos to his question when the topic of making cihuaa is broached. Distracted from his intent, he listens to the exchange with increasingly wide eyes and pink cheeks. By the time they are done, his alabaster-fair features are near-entirely pink, his eyes are lowered, and he coughs politely. "I ... suppose that you two will be wanting some privacy, then. Peace be upon your nest, and may it be a fruitful one." He starts to turn for the door.
Geir holds up a hand, intending for Seldan to pause. "They would, either one, need your assistance in this matter. You should stay, you have been with them through thick and thin. I am certain they would wish you to be present." He looks to the other two Sith for some confirmation, a browridge raised in a questioning manner.
Zeke rises slowly and carefully to his feet and he chuckles at Seldan's words. "Sseldan. Sstay. We will want witnessessss. Thiss one told you that the ceremony doess not include ssuch acts." He makes a low amused noise and moves toward the other man. Suddenly there's a knock at the door, and being close the sith opens it curiously.
"Sir Zeke, there's an urgent message waiting for you in the temple." The priestess who stands there looks embarassed to have interupted and the guards peer around to make sure that nothing untoward is going on."
Zeke sighs at the words and nods. "Thisss one will return then." He wags his tail at Cryossanthia. "It will give thiss one a chance to prepare properly."
"No! Zeke. Let it wait. Let us have the time. I choose you as cihuaa. You." Cryosanthia is on her feet, chasing after him. Her eyes are still dark. Her scents, very strong. Involuntarily, she thrums deeply. My mate, come to me! She's shaking her head, "Let me come with you, to make sure it's short. Shaman Geir can direct the others... Seldan how to prepare."
Seldan's flush only deepens at Zeke's gentle correction. OF course, he knew that. He pushes a stray lock of hair out of his face, but nods and turns to Geir. "I shall do as you ask. Zeke has accepted me as kin, and I him, and of course I shall bear witness, though I would ask your forgiveness for my ignorance of your ways." He looks after the pair. "They are both deserving of happiness."
The copper-scale raises himself up, and moves to put a hand on the door, looking at the priestess standing there. "Zeke is currently occupied with personal business. He shall come presently to accept the message. Until then, do not disturb us. The message can wait." He will attempt, then, to shut the door, his eyes daring someone to... try.
"It is now, or never.", Geir says, looking to Cryosanthia and Zeke. "I will brook no further interruptions to your happiness." He glances to Seldan, and nods his head. "Think of this as a battlefield ceremony. It is come-as-you-are. We shall make the best of being very short of time."
Zeke wags his tail at Cryosanthia. "Thisss one would cleansss onessself in privascy." He answers her with a gentle amusement. Lifts his crystal claw to touch her face gently. Looks at Geir. "Thisss one wantsss more for thisss onesss cihuaa than sssuch. Ssshe dessservesss every happinesss that thisss one can give her. Even if it isss a ssso-ssmall thing ass thisss. Thisss one assskss that you be patient with thisss one."
He wags his tail at Geir, and then at Cryosanthia. "Thisss one will take one of the guardssss. To be sssafe. Thisss one underssstandssss that you are worried after sssuch horrid memoriesss. Be patient my cihuaa."
The touch helps, it calms her, Cryo leans her cheek into Zeke's crystal claw. She smiles, "Modesty. This one wonders if she'll every have a sense of privacy after you've experienced decades of her morning ablutions and seen her with her skin off and organs out. This one can give you that treasure, but let me be close Zeke. In case, in case. The last time you left the room against my instincts..."
She still blames herself for that, even now that she understands how it all came to be.
"Let me follow, to breathe your scent. I needed your strength in the tower, so much. I need it now still with the memories returned. Let me go with you."
Seldan pushes that unruly lock of hair from his face again, watching the others. "A bath is not so great a thing to ask ... you remain within the Temple?" he asks quietly.
Geir stands resolutely in front of the door. "You can give her a splendid ceremony later, Zeke. It has been one thing after another, and who knows if you will have the time to do this in future? Better to do the official thing now, and you can worry about the beat and the yelling later. Attempting to anything more than the basics right now tempts fate." He gestures politely to the room, "So stand easy for a few moments so that I might do and say something the gods and spirits will approve of."
Zeke chuffs. Wags his tail at everyone in a fond manner. "Yesss, a bath. Thisss one will not even sstep foot outssside the Dragonfathersss hallsss." He looks down at Cryosanthia and humms low to her. Calms her. "Thissss one would not deny you. You can wait outssside the bath-room yesss?" His eyes lift to Geir fondly. "Ssseemsss that we might have no choissce at all. Geir, Geir. Thisss can wait a few momentsss yesss?" He seems amused with the other sith.
"This one can wait there, yes my cihuaa." Cryosanthia thrums, ducking her head and nuzzling the air in Zeke's direction. She keeps a hold of his crystal claw. It is anchoring her. The tumultuous upset inside her is still rumbling out adjustments. So much to fit in between these few weeks and her youngling years. It's left her temporarily disconnected, completely in the moment. She manages a small joke, "I think we can let Zeke go to the bath-room so he's not hopping foot to foot while we make the vows. The Dragonfather will protect him that."
Mikilos isn't scared of weddings, but the topic does tend to make him anxious. -Way- too many eager matchmakers around. And so he keeps quiet as the decisions are made. Once he seems the general trend is set, the elf inquires quietly. "Is there anything specific I can do? I've read about the cerimony in general, but not the rpactical aspects."
"Cryosanthia, a favor would I ask of you, ere Zeke leaves." Seldan speaks up, quietly, looking at the about-to-be-wed couple. "Would you remove your gloves, for a moment only?" The question is gentle, but direct.
"I am sure that the Gods and Goddesses would reproach me, as would priests and priestesses. But where was the Dragonfather when Kol was forcing the Sun Temple's own to fight one another?" The copper-scale stands by the door still. His hand drops to his belt, and he slowly pulls his blade free, turning it about in his hand to offer the handle to Zeke. "I would rather you kill me than see either of you pass on before knowing happiness together. And if you cannot or will not do so, then stand ready to be married."
Zeke looks at Geir in shock, quickly moving to push the weapon back toward the copper-scaled sith. "Thisss would never Geir!" He wags his tail at the other male and shakes his head. "If you insssisst, then it will be sso. Thisss one will acceed to your requesst." He lifts his claws to calm the other man, and looks at Cryosanthia. "It ssseemsss that we will do thisss now."
On the heels of Zeke's words comes a chill wind. A cold breeze that slithers out of the corners of the room and strikes directly up the spine. "And where was my invitation to this momentus occassion?" A woman's cold voice echoes through the small room. A familiar voice to all of you who shared Cryosanthia's memories indeed. The soft, even voice that tortured you for a lifetime.
<OOC> Salina says, "Fortitude saves!" GAME: Geir rolls fortitude: (1)+7: 8 (EPIC FAIL) <OOC> Geir says, "Pls take some RPP. I would like to reroll." GAME: Geir rolls fortitude: (3)+7: 10 <OOC> Geir says, "I'd like to not uh, succumb to whatever this is. So I'd like to try once more, pls take the RPPs. :D" GAME: Geir rolls fortitude: (5)+7: 12 <OOC> Cryosanthia says, "charmed life 1/3" GAME: Cryosanthia rolls fortitude+3: (15)+5+3: 23 GAME: Mikilos rolls fort: (15)+10: 25 GAME: Zeke rolls fortitude: (20)+10: 30 (CRITICAL SUCCESS) GAME: Seldan rolls fortitude: (8)+20: 28
The white-scale sith already has her left one off, pulled away when she went to cut her hand. It's on the floor near the bed. It can be hard to tell at a little distance though, the white scales of the gloves so closely match her own. She is in the process of removing the right one when the voice freezes her. She automatically says, "Yes Mistress."
Then, "Invitations were not sent to any."
Mikilos hisses softly, a wave of clouded breath bfore him. The wizard considers just a moment, and reaches into his pocket with one hand, murmuring rapidly. The other hand grabs, and pulls, opening a doorway that wasn't there a moment before. "In. Now." The magi doesn't give commands often... but... he's kinda forceful when he does.
GAME: Mikilos casts Mage's Magnificent Mansion. Caster Level: 13 DC: 26
A chill that goes right through his blood, right through the enchanted armor, and Seldan is chilled as he has not been in years. Still, there is no fear in his eyes as he stares the woman down. "I have no invitation for such as you, only a message. Even the friendliest animal will bite, does one pull its tail enough." Mikilos' doorway appears to be something he recognizes, and he grabs for the hands closest to him, whoever he can get. "Do as he says!" Whoever's hand he can get, he'll pull towards that doorway without question.
Geir simply stands as he was, blade offered handle first to Zeke, his eyes upon where Zeke was standing last.
Zeke doesn't seem affected by the cold. Instead he pushes Cryosanthia toward Seldan, helping the paladin force the female sith into Mikilos' sanctuary. There's resolution in Zeke's green eyes and he meets Seldan's gaze but briefly before he's moving out the other door. Not Mikilos' but the one that Geir was - is half blocking. "Ssshe hasss come for thiss one. Keep her sssafe kin. Keep thisss onesss cihuaa sssafe for thiss one." There's something close to regret in his features, but he's out the door. Rushing as quick as his crystal leg can carry him.
As Zeke exits the room the cold intensifies. There's no sign of the fae woman herself, but her presence is felt.
Cryosanthia is not resisting. When Zeke shoves her towards Seldan, she moves. As he grabs her and pulls her towards Mikilos' mansion, she doesn't resist. The mage's order, even, she seems to be following. She wants to fight, wills herself to, but what the Mistress wants, the Mistress gets.
It happened. It is happening. It will happen, now.
Nothing she can do will change events, and she knows it to the core of her being. To the tower. That's where he's going, will be, was. Still, this one must scream.
"Promise you'll return him unharmed! Promise you'll return him unharmed! I love you Zeke. I love you. I'm coming! I will!"
The sith lets herself fall from one wizard's world into another's.
Mikilos stands a moment, brain shiftsing gears without use of the clutch to process just how utterly foolish people can be while trying to be nobel. "Wha... what.... GET MARRIED FIRST YOU TWIT!!" I mean all the reason to run away from your bride, this isn't the worst, but really?! Voice working again, legs swfitly start as well, and the mage is running after Zeke. Or trying to, at least.
"Mithralla, it is his choice, the fool! Get her, I shall see to the shaman!" Suiting actions to words, Seldan grabs the frozen Geir beneath the arms and pulls him towards the doorway, as swiftly as he can. "Now, do not delay! One is too many to lose to her!" He seems fully prepared to pull them all to Mikilos' doorway, if he has to.
It's not hard to follow in Zeke's wake, as he moves through the temple, to the one place he can think that there might be fewer people. He goes to an empty room and opens the door to find a gate waiting for him. A shimmering portal that leads to an empty stone room. Zeke glances back, and catches sight of Mikilos. He shakes his head at the mage. "Ssshe isss waiting for thiss one Mikilossss. You heard her. Sshe would never have made it alone. You sssaw." His voice holds a thousand pains. He holds his head up.
He doesn't see the woman behind him, small and petite, delicate even. But Mikilos feels the pulse of cold that emits from her a warning before Zeke throws the door shut. Closes winter inside that small room. Mikilos doesn't get to see Zeke pulled into the gate, or if he goes willingly. But he can hear winter howling inside until it fades away into nothing. Until the last cold breath blows out and leaves it empty of everything but a small white note bearing a simple snowflake.
Mikilos struggles a moment with the door, cold numbing his fingers before he can throw it open again... too late. The elf stops, takes a slow breath. Checks to make sure the area is relitively empty. He calmly enters the room, closes the door behind him, and picks up the white envelope, tucking it into an inner pocket.
Turning back to the door, Mikilos takes a moment to let the frustration, the anger, the raw rage build up, and he Shouts, blowing the door off it's hinges and cracking the stone frame. Not the most productive of actions, maybe a little childish, but he feels a -lot- better.
A little calmer, the elf heads back to the first room, to deliver the envelope. He assumes it's for Cryosanthia.
GAME: Mikilos casts Shout. Caster Level: 13 DC: 23
Adrenaline still coursing through Seldan, he pulls Geir through that magical doorway, this time prepared for what he will find on the other side since he has seen this spell before. "Wait here," he tells the both of them, waiting himself, assuming a guard posture. _Don't think. Don't think. He knows what he faces. Do you think on his fate too much, you will not reach him ere he dies. You are his only chance._ The litany runs silently through his mind as he waits for Mikilos to join them.
Geir cannot move. Wait here. Ha ha ha, funny softskin. I'll kill you last.
Cryosanthia is waiting inside Mikilos' mansion. The thought that Tanith would enjoy all the food laid out, crossed her mind and froze to death. The sith stepped inside and out of the doorway, then didn't move. Waiting. Because chasing Zeke wouldn't have helped, which she knows but doesn't believe. Because she remembers, completely, his voluntary imprisonment with her. Taking the fruit was irrelevant to this. The only difference is complete surety that every second since she left he's been suffering.
So she waits. Her demeanor is an entirely new one Seldan hasn't seen before. All the emotional absence of her Salina impression, without the coldness. Even her chilly aura seems muted. She's like a piece of stone. When Mikilos delivers the note she takes it, tucks it in a pocket. Her words are even, not emotionless, but firm. "I expect it says 'All the magic in the World will not undo Tragedy'. A message I've heard twice before from friends and don't need to read a third time. A message that makes no sense. What tragedy? The one she's caused? Why brag. What lesson should I take from it? Might as well say all the magic won't win you friends, or don't oppose me. The Mistress casually destroys everything in her wake then pouts she's not invited to a wedding. Merek's potatoes make as much sense. Well. Zeke has gone to Her, to past me. As much as I'd like to indulge and fall apart, I can't. I will hold together for him. All the loops are closed now. We have to move on her as fast as we can."
Mikilos frowns thoughfully. "....bragging? Or lamenting? All the magic in the world... all the magic the ooze are gathering... what tragedy is she trying to prevent, but ultimately fails? But carries on, knowing that's the path before her? ...or maybe I'm reading into things that aren't really there."
"The tragedy that slaughters her village," Seldan tells the others, simply. Although the dark circles and weariness are still very much there, and the gamut of emotions hovers at the edge of his demeanor, he speaks with a calm, firm, focused resolved. "Master Mithralla, I have need of a warded space such as this, for an evening. I would call together all those who would march on the tower. It is as Cryosanthia says. We must move swiftly. I have had enough of her games. It is time to impose the consequences of such heedlessly and unspeakably evil behavior."
"I do not waver from what I have sworn to Faranmidahn, or to others. I will see her thrown down utterly, or perish in the attempt."
The whitescale sith holds up her left hand, staring at her snowflake mark, speaking to it as much as to the others. "I wasn't involved in that. I offered to help her. Why should I suffer, why should my cihuaa? Her answer seems to be because she can make us. This one has had enough of her games. This one has her full years now and _STILL_ cannot comprehend her mind."
Cryo stares at the others, "Do I need this hand? Has she written into my soul so that no matter anywhere she can see and hear through me, or just my hand? I can't be the puppet for any more of her games. I will let Reunion take it if the loss will help bring her down.
Angrily phrased words, said very calmly. "Can Shaman Geir be freed also?"
Mikilos nods to Seldan. "I usually keep a casting handy, it's been surprisingly useful. Just let me know, and shouldn't be a problem. as for Geir, I think the effect is wearing off? I'm not sure trying to break thigns would make it better."
Seldan turns to Cryosanthia, studying her with measuring eyes. He's about to go for the blade at his hip, then shakes his head. "No. I have need of that brand, and in having it you may be the key to the march upon the tower. It is known to me that one may not find the tower, does she not wish them to. I would give her reason to open the tower, thinking that she sets the snare, when in fact the snare is set for her in turn." He puts a fist into his hand, resolutely. "I am in need of your aid, for Eluna's holy light illuminates but part of what truly is. In this, so too shall I be. I would have you see that which I wish her to know."
The sith stares at the two men, nods and places her hands in her lap. She closes her eyes for a long blink and a deep exhale. Her eyes open, "I will. I'm more confident now that there aren't other hidden surprises in my mind. That plan makes sense. I assume she can't see us here, that it's not active?"
Mikilos hesitaties. "This is a pocket dimension. None can pass though the door without permission. Scrying would be very difficult... but I can't swear it's impossible. Not with fae magics. I find it unlikely, but i just can't be certain. That said, I'm as confidant as can get she's unable to listen in."
"Then that is the best we will get," Seldan answers resolutely. "That will have to do, for now. I would hold this meeting as swiftly as I may, though it will take time to disseminate the information. In the meantime, we gird for battle, all of us. I will find those that I would ask for aid."
Cryosanthia nods, "Yesterday I went under Alexandria with a mapping crew to attempt to figure out the summoning circle that brought a demon to the fountain, twice. We mapped a few tunnels, then ran into the demon. It was Eclavdran. It was Eclavdran the last two times. My mark was active, we weren't prepared to fight him. Darius', Kira's beau, had to strike a deal with him to let us live. He departed and said that the current map, the one he gave for finding her, we won't find her, only what she wants us to find."
"I've read in the Explorer logs there were teleport potions, other ways. I thought that would be useful. Also, obviously I remember where it was four weeks ago and might be able to track my way back, but that's about as useful as knowing where the Night Soil cart was a month ago."
The sith looks over at the food. "I would hate to waste that. Perhaps we should eat some, but I would like to rest and be alone soon. I need too..."
Cryo grabs both her horns and rocks her head from side to side, shaking it. "Cram pieces in."
Mikilos nods. "The Map leads to the Tower, but perhaps not the Tower we need." He doesn't seem surprised. And yes, that is the downside to the spell. Piles of food I can't take to those who could use it."
"We will need to teleport," Seldan answers, taking some food of his own, although with the events of the day, he eats only lightly.
The palescale sith nods to both things. She moves over to the table taking cuts of meat mostly off the plates. Several glasses of water. She is silent for most of it, very composed. The two are ushered out with a bow and a farewell. The door is closed.
She stares at the empty room, that still holds lingering scents of Zeke. Strongest near the door, her bed. They will fade. The Temple may make her leave, without him. For the moment she stays here.
Cryosanthia lies down on her back, staring at the ceiling for about a minute before hissing, "Sssscales! I will learn to sleep on my stomach again." She rolls over, adjusts a pillow and stretches out in a more natural sleeping sith manner. She stares at the headboard. Concentrates and attempts to center herself.
The emotional earthquakes caused by the arrival of the Tower have stopped. It dominates her mental landscape. It is four times as much memory as she's been working with, and the foundations of it go deep. Everything she's known or felt on an instinctive or muscular level has an explanation now. It stands taller than any emotional peak she had before. The view to the horizon is vast, a frozen a feature-full expanse. The iceberg of distress is there, dwarfed by an even larger one she never realized she had.
The top of the tower explodes upwards, blown away by a breath weapon. Her self images emerge, sith and sith-fae carrying each other, guardian dragon pushing from behind and lending support. They are all bloody and bruised from climbing up through the memories. The Snowflake flag flying on the flagpole is torn down, and Cryo's Dragon-Eye standard is raised. She will own it all.
On the bed, Cryosanthia pops the pit of the apple in her mouth and sucks on it as she goes to sleep.
