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Between the Shadow and the Light (Updated February 26, 2023)
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<blockquote data-quote="The Shadow" data-source="post: 8924993" data-attributes="member: 16760"><p>New Scene: The other side. [Not gonna roll, I'm giving the story its head for a bit.]</p><p></p><p>Pete staggered, dropping to hands and knees on a rough stone floor, gasping like a bellows as Invictus clattered away from him. Sweat dripped freely from his face, and he shivered so violently it seemed a wonder he didn't fly apart. Casting one of the "spiritual body" suite of spells in Shadow was a major undertaking even under ideal conditions; doing it rapidly, surrounded with Azazel's malice, and without using the spoken word (which Azazel might have been able to choke off) had come dangerously close to killing him.</p><p></p><p>It was at least a full minute before he could hear anything but the roaring of his own pulse pounding in his ears. When he could, he heard the sound of someone clapping slowly.</p><p></p><p>Looking up, he saw he was in a bare stone cube perhaps ten yards across. More importantly, he shared it with a tall dark-haired man dressed in a St. Michael surcoat over mail. When the man saw he was noticed, he smiled.</p><p></p><p>"I've really got to hand it to you, Pete. That little stunt you just pulled is simultaneously the most brilliant AND the most idiotic thing I've seen in centuries."</p><p></p><p>Pete tried to speak, but his voice came out as a croak. He managed to laboriously climb up onto one knee, then stand, quite shakily. As he did so, he could feel the shards of Kate's crystal sifting down within his armor: It had evidently shattered, perhaps sparing him even worse side effects. He could also sense the controlled threnody of the wards surrounding him, more powerful than anything he'd ever come across before.</p><p></p><p>Moistening his lips, he said, "Sir Reginald, I presume?"</p><p></p><p>That worthy chuckled. "You are a clever one. The coming millennia shouldn't be quite as boring as the last one has been."</p><p></p><p>Pete took a few deep breaths, getting his heart rate under control. "What's going on with my friends?"</p><p></p><p>Sir Reginald shrugged. "I don't know. You gave the order to bury my eyes and ears out there, if you recall - it'll take a while to dig out. But you must realize that Azazel has no further reason to keep them alive... Once he finishes his tantrum over being defeated once again, of course. I wish I could watch! This one's gonna be a doozy! Once he realizes Invictus there is out of his reach forever, he's going to completely lose it."</p><p></p><p>Pete staggered over to the blade, picked it up, sheathed it. He frowned in thought when it failed to vanish. Then: "Their lives mean nothing to you?" Again, a shrug. "I'll be honest - not much. People come and people go; you'll see. It's possible they'll get lucky, though - Azazel might expend enough energy in his raving to go dormant again before remembering them."</p><p></p><p>With unconcealed contempt, "And you call yourself a knight." The tall man grinned. "Not any more. You could say I'm the White King these days."</p><p></p><p>Pete closed his eyes and sighed. "Who is Black, then?" "Ah! By that there hangs a tale. But I know you've got other questions you want answered first."</p><p></p><p>In a voice of anguish, Pete cried out, "<em>Why didn't you speak more clearly?!</em> Why didn't you tell us anything useful?!"</p><p></p><p>Sir Reginald sighed. "Lots of reasons. The King is the most important piece... but its freedom of motion is limited. I'm constrained by being in here, by my agreements with Black... By the rules of the game."</p><p></p><p>"Why is Azazel trying to break you out, anyway? Would that kill you?" Sir Reginald stopped and stared. "Wow. I can't believe you, Pete! How can you be so smart and so stupid at the same time?! I mean, sure, yes, it almost certainly would kill me. But that's the LEAST of it!"</p><p></p><p>Pete sighed. "What am I missing?"</p><p></p><p>"You really thought I was the prisoner here? I'm the freaking warden, kid! And now so are you."</p><p></p><p>---</p><p></p><p>Pete took a long moment thinking that over. Then he said, "Well, things seem to have been rubbing along okay with only one warden thus far. I don't suppose we need two." He drew Invictus, noting that the blade's characteristic glow did not appear.</p><p></p><p>Sir Reginald gave him a pitying look. "Kid. You must know that pigsticker of yours can't actually hurt me, right?" "I don't know that at all, Reggie. More to the point, I don't think you know it either."</p><p></p><p>The tall man laughed. "Okay, I'll play along. Why wouldn't I?" "You've been out of circulation for centuries, Reggie. What, you think Invictus still has only the powers it had in your day? Every generation of Demarche mages has added new tricks. You might be interested to know that it cuts ghosts as easily as flesh as of, oh, four hundred years ago if I remember right."</p><p></p><p>Sir Reginald smirked. "Pete, Pete, Pete. I am to your typical ghost what a Lamborghini is to a Go-Kart." "Yeah, well, even a Lamborghini won't start if you put sugar in its gas tank. But sure, maybe you're right. Just a few harmless love-taps between friends, yeah? Let's find out." He took a step forward, raising Invictus to strike.</p><p></p><p>Sir Reginald took a step back. "You'll notice that it isn't glowing. The wards here..." "Thank you, Captain Obvious. It's not like there haven't been illusions involved every step of the way. Oh! Of course." Pete abruptly realized that he couldn't feel the subtle pressure of the darkhound curse any longer. "Under these wards, I'll bet I can get away with... Lumen Veritatis!"</p><p></p><p>As the magic took effect, Pete was nearly blinded by the intensity of the wards that surrounded him on every side. But not so much that he didn't see Sir Reginald's features melt into that of a regal, unearthly figure... with an articulated silver hand.</p><p></p><p>The tall fey told him in a peeved tone, "You are the most thoroughly annoying mortal I've met in a long time. What gave me away?"</p><p></p><p>Pete smirked, still holding Invictus in guard. "You're just too damn tall to be a medieval Frenchman. I'll admit I wasn't expecting a freaking <em>king</em> of the freaking <em>Daoine Sidhe</em>, though."</p><p></p><p>The inhuman thing rolled its eyes. "There were plenty of Vikings in the Crecy area! It was plausible... But whatever. I'll forgive you for offering violence to my royal person - if you put that thing away right now."</p><p></p><p>Pete sheathed Invictus (which was now glowing again) and it disappeared as usual. "Okay. So what happens now? I'm not stupid enough to think I'm in your league, Nu-, uh. What should I call you?"</p><p></p><p>It gestured tolerantly. "Go ahead, Nuada is just a use-name. You surely didn't think I'd let my truename be bandied about for centuries, did you?"</p><p></p><p>Pete shook his head. "But I didn't expect you to be stuck in here for centuries, either." "'Stuck' is not quite the operative term. But it's true I've been, as you put it, 'out of circulation' for a while."</p><p></p><p>"So, is it okay if I ask what on earth is going on? Not even a fey of your caliber should be able to persist in the Shadow for this long - not enough Light to live on. Plus... You've got to be here willingly, as I can't imagine anyone being powerful enough to force the issue. Why?"</p><p></p><p>Nuada sighed. "There's being forced, and then there's politics. The details are none of your business. ... As for survival, the wards themselves are sufficient for me to get by, though not in the style to which I'm accustomed."</p><p></p><p>"So, is Azazel trying to kill you by breaking the wards or what?" Nuada laughed ruefully. "You still don't get it, do you? This isn't about me! This is bigger than me."</p><p></p><p>Pete paused in shock. The Sidhe were not known for their humility, to put it mildly. Their royalty were even less so. "...Bigger than you?" "I know, right? There's always a bigger fish, kid. Oh, okay, fine - maybe your White Christ is an exception, if it makes you feel any better. But we didn't see Him stepping up, so it was up to us."</p><p></p><p>Pete rested his head in his hand. "I am really confused." Nuada chuckled. "Welcome to the human condition, Pete. All you need to know is that I really am here as a warden... to something that's badder news than anything you've ever had nightmares about. Like, 'the entire Earth is just an appetizer tray' bad. I literally can't explain much more without damaging your sanity. Call it Black - because that's the side it plays."</p><p></p><p>Pete asked wearily, "And Azazel?" "Azazel is what you get when tiny bits of Black leak out over the centuries and warp Shadows." "Sir Reginald?" "A former pawn of Azazel's, who's carrying quite the grudge against it. He's proven useful for helping keep Azazel in check - pardon the pun."</p><p></p><p>"You've been very accommodating, your Majesty. But I hope you'll permit me one more question: What happens to me now?"</p><p></p><p>Nuada stroked its chin. "As entertaining as it would be to play mind-games with you for a couple centuries, you <em>are</em> kind of annoying. But then, killing you hardly seems sporting... and I've always had a soft spot for audacity, which you've got in spades."</p><p></p><p>Pete asked hopefully, "Surely you've got a way out of the wards?" "I wasn't planning on being here forever, no. But opening the wards is always risky - and Invictus IS one of the few things capable of breaking them."</p><p></p><p>Pete paused, then rolled the dice. "The des Marches family is also useful to the cause, aren't we? And Invictus is..."</p><p></p><p>Nuada snorted. "Let me stop you right there. Nobody's indispensable, kid. Yeah, you guys have had your uses now and then, but the world will keep turning without you just fine."</p><p></p><p>Pete sighed, and nodded. "All right." He went down on one knee and bowed his head. "Then, I guess I'm just asking the boon, your Majesty, of being able to help my friends and family in some way. If I can best help them by staying here... I guess I'm willing, God help me. But if not, please let me go to them."</p><p></p><p>---</p><p></p><p>Nuada scowled, stroking its chin with its silver hand. "Dammit. After the guts you've shown getting here, I've kinda got to give you at least a chance. Hmm. Oh!!" The tall fey grinned unpleasantly. "Oh yeah, this is perfect."</p><p></p><p>Pete swallowed. "Should I be worried, your Majesty?" "Oh, you totally should be, Pete. I've just thought of the perfect simultaneous reward and punishment for you."</p><p></p><p>After taking and letting out a deep breath, Pete said, "Okay, lay it on me." "You won't be much good out there if you've still got that darkhound coiled up inside you, will you? For that matter, a couple of your friends are compromised by it too."</p><p></p><p>"Getting rid of it is what we came here for, in fact." "Well, you're in luck, then - that's a boon well within my power to grant. You won't enjoy it much, though. At all."</p><p></p><p>Pete squeezed his eyes shut and shuddered for just a second. "Okay. I'm down." "One thing you gotta understand, Pete - I'm required to respect human free will. So if you ask me to stop once this has started, I'll have to do just that."</p><p></p><p>"No offense, but you guys seem to have quite a lot of interpretive flexibility regarding that respect." "Of course! Gotta get our jollies somehow, don't we? Think of this as me taking your measure, Pete - if you wimp out, you probably weren't worth my time anyway."</p><p></p><p>"...Can I pray for a minute before we begin?" "Whatever. Just... try not to be too loud, okay? That Name is a bit... distracting."</p><p></p><p>Pete knelt and composed himself for prayer. His emotions were so roiled that it took quite some doing. But finally he just uttered silently, "Be with me, Lord. I offer this through Your wounded hands. You strengthened the martyrs who witnessed to Your Name, please strengthen me now in this trial. Mother Mary, pray for me." When he felt a measure of inner peace, he stood up. "Okay. I'm as ready as I'm going to be."</p><p></p><p>Nuada nodded. "Groovy." Then without warning, it plunged its silver hand into Pete's chest without breaking the skin and took hold of the darkhound's metaphorical throat.</p><p></p><p>The pain was indescribable, a searing heat that came from the inside. Pete howled and writhed involuntarily in agony, Nuada's arm the only thing holding him upright.</p><p></p><p>He could not say how long it lasted, but at some timeless point he seemed to be looking down dispassionately on his own writhing body. From this vantage point, real or not, the tall fey appeared as a network of brilliant rushing lights rather than a man. And past it, over its 'shoulder', was a wizened old man wearing a natty saffron robe and leaning on a staff, watching intently.</p><p></p><p>Pete 'spoke', though not with sound: "Sensei?! What are you doing here?"</p><p></p><p>Ichiro responded in the same way, "I have come to give you a shove, so that you stumble and fall to the ground."</p><p></p><p>Pete remembered the koan: "'Each man walks balanced on a thread between the Shadow and the Light.'" "Yes. The Light scorches you and the Shadow is fell. The time has come."</p><p></p><p>Ichiro walked around Nuada and placed his hand on the network of shimmers corrresponding to the fey's arm - and Pete's world turned into purest Light.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="The Shadow, post: 8924993, member: 16760"] New Scene: The other side. [Not gonna roll, I'm giving the story its head for a bit.] Pete staggered, dropping to hands and knees on a rough stone floor, gasping like a bellows as Invictus clattered away from him. Sweat dripped freely from his face, and he shivered so violently it seemed a wonder he didn't fly apart. Casting one of the "spiritual body" suite of spells in Shadow was a major undertaking even under ideal conditions; doing it rapidly, surrounded with Azazel's malice, and without using the spoken word (which Azazel might have been able to choke off) had come dangerously close to killing him. It was at least a full minute before he could hear anything but the roaring of his own pulse pounding in his ears. When he could, he heard the sound of someone clapping slowly. Looking up, he saw he was in a bare stone cube perhaps ten yards across. More importantly, he shared it with a tall dark-haired man dressed in a St. Michael surcoat over mail. When the man saw he was noticed, he smiled. "I've really got to hand it to you, Pete. That little stunt you just pulled is simultaneously the most brilliant AND the most idiotic thing I've seen in centuries." Pete tried to speak, but his voice came out as a croak. He managed to laboriously climb up onto one knee, then stand, quite shakily. As he did so, he could feel the shards of Kate's crystal sifting down within his armor: It had evidently shattered, perhaps sparing him even worse side effects. He could also sense the controlled threnody of the wards surrounding him, more powerful than anything he'd ever come across before. Moistening his lips, he said, "Sir Reginald, I presume?" That worthy chuckled. "You are a clever one. The coming millennia shouldn't be quite as boring as the last one has been." Pete took a few deep breaths, getting his heart rate under control. "What's going on with my friends?" Sir Reginald shrugged. "I don't know. You gave the order to bury my eyes and ears out there, if you recall - it'll take a while to dig out. But you must realize that Azazel has no further reason to keep them alive... Once he finishes his tantrum over being defeated once again, of course. I wish I could watch! This one's gonna be a doozy! Once he realizes Invictus there is out of his reach forever, he's going to completely lose it." Pete staggered over to the blade, picked it up, sheathed it. He frowned in thought when it failed to vanish. Then: "Their lives mean nothing to you?" Again, a shrug. "I'll be honest - not much. People come and people go; you'll see. It's possible they'll get lucky, though - Azazel might expend enough energy in his raving to go dormant again before remembering them." With unconcealed contempt, "And you call yourself a knight." The tall man grinned. "Not any more. You could say I'm the White King these days." Pete closed his eyes and sighed. "Who is Black, then?" "Ah! By that there hangs a tale. But I know you've got other questions you want answered first." In a voice of anguish, Pete cried out, "[i]Why didn't you speak more clearly?![/i] Why didn't you tell us anything useful?!" Sir Reginald sighed. "Lots of reasons. The King is the most important piece... but its freedom of motion is limited. I'm constrained by being in here, by my agreements with Black... By the rules of the game." "Why is Azazel trying to break you out, anyway? Would that kill you?" Sir Reginald stopped and stared. "Wow. I can't believe you, Pete! How can you be so smart and so stupid at the same time?! I mean, sure, yes, it almost certainly would kill me. But that's the LEAST of it!" Pete sighed. "What am I missing?" "You really thought I was the prisoner here? I'm the freaking warden, kid! And now so are you." --- Pete took a long moment thinking that over. Then he said, "Well, things seem to have been rubbing along okay with only one warden thus far. I don't suppose we need two." He drew Invictus, noting that the blade's characteristic glow did not appear. Sir Reginald gave him a pitying look. "Kid. You must know that pigsticker of yours can't actually hurt me, right?" "I don't know that at all, Reggie. More to the point, I don't think you know it either." The tall man laughed. "Okay, I'll play along. Why wouldn't I?" "You've been out of circulation for centuries, Reggie. What, you think Invictus still has only the powers it had in your day? Every generation of Demarche mages has added new tricks. You might be interested to know that it cuts ghosts as easily as flesh as of, oh, four hundred years ago if I remember right." Sir Reginald smirked. "Pete, Pete, Pete. I am to your typical ghost what a Lamborghini is to a Go-Kart." "Yeah, well, even a Lamborghini won't start if you put sugar in its gas tank. But sure, maybe you're right. Just a few harmless love-taps between friends, yeah? Let's find out." He took a step forward, raising Invictus to strike. Sir Reginald took a step back. "You'll notice that it isn't glowing. The wards here..." "Thank you, Captain Obvious. It's not like there haven't been illusions involved every step of the way. Oh! Of course." Pete abruptly realized that he couldn't feel the subtle pressure of the darkhound curse any longer. "Under these wards, I'll bet I can get away with... Lumen Veritatis!" As the magic took effect, Pete was nearly blinded by the intensity of the wards that surrounded him on every side. But not so much that he didn't see Sir Reginald's features melt into that of a regal, unearthly figure... with an articulated silver hand. The tall fey told him in a peeved tone, "You are the most thoroughly annoying mortal I've met in a long time. What gave me away?" Pete smirked, still holding Invictus in guard. "You're just too damn tall to be a medieval Frenchman. I'll admit I wasn't expecting a freaking [i]king[/i] of the freaking [i]Daoine Sidhe[/i], though." The inhuman thing rolled its eyes. "There were plenty of Vikings in the Crecy area! It was plausible... But whatever. I'll forgive you for offering violence to my royal person - if you put that thing away right now." Pete sheathed Invictus (which was now glowing again) and it disappeared as usual. "Okay. So what happens now? I'm not stupid enough to think I'm in your league, Nu-, uh. What should I call you?" It gestured tolerantly. "Go ahead, Nuada is just a use-name. You surely didn't think I'd let my truename be bandied about for centuries, did you?" Pete shook his head. "But I didn't expect you to be stuck in here for centuries, either." "'Stuck' is not quite the operative term. But it's true I've been, as you put it, 'out of circulation' for a while." "So, is it okay if I ask what on earth is going on? Not even a fey of your caliber should be able to persist in the Shadow for this long - not enough Light to live on. Plus... You've got to be here willingly, as I can't imagine anyone being powerful enough to force the issue. Why?" Nuada sighed. "There's being forced, and then there's politics. The details are none of your business. ... As for survival, the wards themselves are sufficient for me to get by, though not in the style to which I'm accustomed." "So, is Azazel trying to kill you by breaking the wards or what?" Nuada laughed ruefully. "You still don't get it, do you? This isn't about me! This is bigger than me." Pete paused in shock. The Sidhe were not known for their humility, to put it mildly. Their royalty were even less so. "...Bigger than you?" "I know, right? There's always a bigger fish, kid. Oh, okay, fine - maybe your White Christ is an exception, if it makes you feel any better. But we didn't see Him stepping up, so it was up to us." Pete rested his head in his hand. "I am really confused." Nuada chuckled. "Welcome to the human condition, Pete. All you need to know is that I really am here as a warden... to something that's badder news than anything you've ever had nightmares about. Like, 'the entire Earth is just an appetizer tray' bad. I literally can't explain much more without damaging your sanity. Call it Black - because that's the side it plays." Pete asked wearily, "And Azazel?" "Azazel is what you get when tiny bits of Black leak out over the centuries and warp Shadows." "Sir Reginald?" "A former pawn of Azazel's, who's carrying quite the grudge against it. He's proven useful for helping keep Azazel in check - pardon the pun." "You've been very accommodating, your Majesty. But I hope you'll permit me one more question: What happens to me now?" Nuada stroked its chin. "As entertaining as it would be to play mind-games with you for a couple centuries, you [i]are[/i] kind of annoying. But then, killing you hardly seems sporting... and I've always had a soft spot for audacity, which you've got in spades." Pete asked hopefully, "Surely you've got a way out of the wards?" "I wasn't planning on being here forever, no. But opening the wards is always risky - and Invictus IS one of the few things capable of breaking them." Pete paused, then rolled the dice. "The des Marches family is also useful to the cause, aren't we? And Invictus is..." Nuada snorted. "Let me stop you right there. Nobody's indispensable, kid. Yeah, you guys have had your uses now and then, but the world will keep turning without you just fine." Pete sighed, and nodded. "All right." He went down on one knee and bowed his head. "Then, I guess I'm just asking the boon, your Majesty, of being able to help my friends and family in some way. If I can best help them by staying here... I guess I'm willing, God help me. But if not, please let me go to them." --- Nuada scowled, stroking its chin with its silver hand. "Dammit. After the guts you've shown getting here, I've kinda got to give you at least a chance. Hmm. Oh!!" The tall fey grinned unpleasantly. "Oh yeah, this is perfect." Pete swallowed. "Should I be worried, your Majesty?" "Oh, you totally should be, Pete. I've just thought of the perfect simultaneous reward and punishment for you." After taking and letting out a deep breath, Pete said, "Okay, lay it on me." "You won't be much good out there if you've still got that darkhound coiled up inside you, will you? For that matter, a couple of your friends are compromised by it too." "Getting rid of it is what we came here for, in fact." "Well, you're in luck, then - that's a boon well within my power to grant. You won't enjoy it much, though. At all." Pete squeezed his eyes shut and shuddered for just a second. "Okay. I'm down." "One thing you gotta understand, Pete - I'm required to respect human free will. So if you ask me to stop once this has started, I'll have to do just that." "No offense, but you guys seem to have quite a lot of interpretive flexibility regarding that respect." "Of course! Gotta get our jollies somehow, don't we? Think of this as me taking your measure, Pete - if you wimp out, you probably weren't worth my time anyway." "...Can I pray for a minute before we begin?" "Whatever. Just... try not to be too loud, okay? That Name is a bit... distracting." Pete knelt and composed himself for prayer. His emotions were so roiled that it took quite some doing. But finally he just uttered silently, "Be with me, Lord. I offer this through Your wounded hands. You strengthened the martyrs who witnessed to Your Name, please strengthen me now in this trial. Mother Mary, pray for me." When he felt a measure of inner peace, he stood up. "Okay. I'm as ready as I'm going to be." Nuada nodded. "Groovy." Then without warning, it plunged its silver hand into Pete's chest without breaking the skin and took hold of the darkhound's metaphorical throat. The pain was indescribable, a searing heat that came from the inside. Pete howled and writhed involuntarily in agony, Nuada's arm the only thing holding him upright. He could not say how long it lasted, but at some timeless point he seemed to be looking down dispassionately on his own writhing body. From this vantage point, real or not, the tall fey appeared as a network of brilliant rushing lights rather than a man. And past it, over its 'shoulder', was a wizened old man wearing a natty saffron robe and leaning on a staff, watching intently. Pete 'spoke', though not with sound: "Sensei?! What are you doing here?" Ichiro responded in the same way, "I have come to give you a shove, so that you stumble and fall to the ground." Pete remembered the koan: "'Each man walks balanced on a thread between the Shadow and the Light.'" "Yes. The Light scorches you and the Shadow is fell. The time has come." Ichiro walked around Nuada and placed his hand on the network of shimmers corrresponding to the fey's arm - and Pete's world turned into purest Light. [/QUOTE]
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Between the Shadow and the Light (Updated February 26, 2023)
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