Kingdom of Ashes IC discussion (What if we held a war and *everybody* came?)

[Queen_Dopplepopolis]

Shortly after Cawys's note returns to Caer Melyn, another piece of paper slides through the shimmering hole in the fabric of reality that the ring-gate contains. In sharp contrast to Cawys's note, this is written on fine parchment, expertly etched with an obvious care.

Mistress Fairweather,

I pray this finds you well. Though I would share more with you, I will begin by addressing the problem you present.

Assuming that such a large number of mages can be captured, containing them will be difficult to say the least. I assume, since you mentioned capturing such a large number, that the mages in question are of relatively low power? I shall consult what books I managed to salvage from Oceanus to see what I can find. Additionally, I will converse with Master Cawys on the subject. He is often a font of creativity, even though most of his ample intelligence is often turned toward lewd behaviors.

As soon as I know more, I shall endeavor to contact you, again.

Lastly, I must ask--has something happened between Lady Rhynn and your companion, Master Arendorr? Her health has taken a turn for the worst since last I saw her. I can only imagine that your companion's short visit may have had something to do with it. Please, if there is something you know, tell us! Her health is of the highest concern, not least because the success of our amnesty, and of our rebellion depend on her survival.

Under the Light,
--Meric Randall

Dear Randall,

Would you happen to have any information about anti-magic effects that used to surround this city?

If we could find a way to reactivate it, the Red Mages could be taken care of rather easily...

I have sent a note to Master Cawys, as well. You can expect a trip from me in the near future... I hope to speak with you and Master Cawys--if the Light wills-- at the same time.
He puts a sour taste in my mouth.

I hope to hear from you soon.

--Justice

 

[The_Universe]

A Broken Sword, A Mended Life

A nervous sweat covered Archonus’s face as he stood over Luminus, a sword that had been a gift from a woman that loved him—a sword that had been a gift from a woman who even now bore his child. Not incidentally, the woman was also his queen—his sworn liege. But it was not for this woman, this queen, that he stood over the blade with shortsword in hand. What he did, he told himself, he did for a friend. A friend fallen in battle to help save them all—a friend who had one chance to return to life, a chance that depended on him breaking the blade before him.

And so he stood in the small stone chapel, torturing himself with thoughts of his own betrayal, silently begging the Light for forgiveness for his most recent sins. As thoughts of his betrayal, thoughts of his new love churned in his mind, he readied the blade. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes, slowly raising Spark above his head, and then sending it hurtling back toward shining steel of his queen’s sword.

At the same instance, Pendara finished the last word of her spell, and sent it racing through the air toward the powerful item that Archon had offered in sacrifice for his friend’s return to life. Pendara felt the burst of power wash over her as the magic of the sword sputtered and then died in the wake of her own magic. She watched as the once-brilliant blue gem ceased its almost hypnotic sparkle. Part of her was saddened…it was almost as if something had died with the sword.

But was this not always the way of it? One life can only be paid for by another’s.

As Spark struck Luminous, Archon and Pendara both winced, turning their eyes from the act that somehow, improbably, seemed like murder. A discordant but somehow musical chord filled the air as the smaller blade sheared through the larger.

Archon heard the death chime of the blade, but Penny felt the magic burst once more, this time permanently. Whatever energy had found a home within Archonus’s blade could reside there no longer. As the fleeing magic flooded the room, and then dispersed to the air around them, she felt sure that something…wrong…had been done here. She shook her head, doing her best to dispel the disturbing thought, just as she had dispelled the blade’s enchantment. Imagination, she assured herself, was the cause of her misgiving.

Meanwhile, Archon reached into the ruins of his blade, careful not to cut himself on the shards of steel left over from the sundered sword. Grasping the diamond that had been set in the center of the blade, he stood from his careful crouch, pausing only to wipe the sweat from his stinging eyes. Luminus had broken easily. He hoped it was a sign.

He turned to Pendara, nodded curtly, and then pivoted on his heels, marching out of the old chapel toward the towering cathedral that dominated the ruined landscape of Caer Melyn. Pendara followed, and within minutes they found themselves pushing through the great oaken doors of the Cathedral, striding beneath the towering stone image of the Apecto that welcomed the nameless masses into the walls of this, the first Cathedral of the Light, and the Last of Aon. .

The Circle waited inside, standing at places equidistant around the ancient altar that had once accepted sacrifices to the Sun god Aon, but now stood as a symbol of redemption that the Light gives to all its petitioners, should they but confess their sins, and accept just penance. Bishop Carr stood behind the altar, looking vaguely disgusted at the corpse that had been carefully laid on the church’s ancient altar. As the two of them got closer, Penny moved off to his left, taking up a position behind Justice. Archon continued forward, gingerly placing the gem over L’Aurel’s unmoving breast.

Before he could turn away, the Bishop reached across the altar, grasping him by the shoulder. Pleading with all of them through Archonus, he begged, “Please? Must we do this? I have already beseeched Mistress Fairweather to no avail! We have no way of knowing what cost this will demand…the diamond is only the beginning! Please!”

Archon’s eyes narrowed, crinkling the blue star that surrounded his left eye. “We’ll pay whatever price we have to. Now do it,” he growled. Frustration, fear, and anger all seeped into his voice. Thankfully, Carr seemed to hear only anger. He stepped back, releasing Archon’s arm. He turned to the circle, walking toward an empty place in the circle left near Xath. As he saw her face, his heart skipped a beat. Even among the difficulties of the past few days, his heart soared at the thought that she loved him. He loved her. More than anything.

He reached out to her as Carr prepared to begin the ceremony, placing his long and calloused fingers along the place where her chin met her slender neck. “I…I don’t know what to say. But please…stop crying.”

She looked back at him, perfect features marred by tears, her normally clear eyes red, and puffy. “It…it’ll be alright,” she said, as she smiled at him, if a bit weakly. “This is the most important thing, now. We’ll talk about everything that’s happened today later, after this is all over…” Still a little unsure of herself, she smiled again, and then turned her head slightly, kissing the palm of his hand as she looked into his eyes. “We’ve not even begun,” she continued, her voice vibrating against his strong, cool hands.

He smiled back, just as weakly, and took the place beside her. Carr was ready to begin. As he chanted, he made eye contact with Justice, across the circle from him. She looked back, a critical look painted across her otherwise flawless features. Nonetheless, having caught his attention, she looked over her shoulder, hoping his gaze would follow her own. It did. Selura Nightshade, it seemed, had been brought here, as well.

* * *​

The Bishop chanted for what seemed like hours, but could have not have been more than a few minutes. As he droned onward, reading from the dusty tome that they had freed from the great Library no more than hours before, time seemed to slow, stretching itself to surround the weary adventurers as the magic Carr summoned gathered around them. The air seemed alive with energy, and even the light of Aon seemed to dim as he reached the height of the spell’s invocation.

The old man’s droning stopped, and instead, he intoned a question to the corpse lying across the altar before him. “L’Aurel Woodshadow, the flesh is ash, but the soul is fire. Have you considered the price for your return to ash, and your abandonment of the holy flame of the Light?”

For a moment, the air stilled, no longer humming with the gathering power of the Bishop’s spell. And then the answer came, a discordant scream that seemed to rise up from the earth below and buzz from the air around them at the same time. Though all within the old church heard the words, they could not be sure if it was their friend’s voice they heard, carried on the tremors of earth and air. “I have,” it said.

Hands shaking, he bishop turned back to the book, now shouting the incantation as the ground beneath his already-nervous legs continued to shake, to rumble. Time stopped, time elongated. Time was meaningless.

Even as his words seemed to tear at the flesh of reality around them, he stopped. Still shouting, he intoned, “L’Aurel Woodshadow! You have considered the price of ash! Will you pay that price, that which is necessary to return here from the Kingdom of Light!?”

Suddenly, the tremors stopped. A sudden explosion of damp heat suddenly filled the cavernous sanctuary, nearly knocking the Circle to their knees. Though the ground shook no more, this strangely damp heat was equally as oppressive. A wet, smacking sound consumed their senses. “I will,” it said, as more than one of them silently prayed that it was indeed L’Aurel that spoke to them.

Fighting the urge to cover his ears, to collapse in fear of whatever dark power he had already invoked, Carr steeled himself, and continued. Each word seemed to gather ever more power, ever more heat. Each part of the Circle could feel the others in their minds, as if while the spell tore the veil between this life and the next, so too had the veils between their thoughts been torn.

In a second, in an hour, in a year, the frenzied thoughts of the Circle were joined by the whispering insanity of a thousand more, myriad minds trying to find their way from flame to ash, attracted to the beacon the Cathedral had become. …WhereamI?WhoamI?Whereisthis?Annacomecloser!Ineedyoudon’tleaveme!OhGodthepainisunbearablewhywon’tthistop?DearGodwhyhaveyouforsakenme?TheLightit’ssobrightthankyouforthischance.Whathavewehere?MotherIloveyouImadeyouthiscanIhaveakiss… Carr’s voice held them. Carr’s voice imprisoned them. Hopefully, Carr’s voice could call the one they needed, and banish these others to the unnamed otherworld in which they dwelled, even now trying to escape back into the land of the living.

Screaming over the flood of thought that surely battered him, as well, the Bishop demanded, “L’Aurel Woodshadow! You have considered the price, and agreed to pay it!” The bishop gulped at the suddenly empty air. The voices had stopped, and so had the heat. But even as the queer parody of life that the voices represented had left the room, so, it seemed, had the air itself. Stumbling over the words, trying desperately to make sound where none was possible, the bishop mouthed, “L’Aurel Woodshadow, will you return?”

The gem, the soul of Luminus, pulsed, sending white, blinding light outward. Though no answer was heard, the result was unmistakable. I will.

* * *​

L’Aurel’s body remained inert. Silent. Her eyes still clothed, her chest as still as the cool air had suddenly become. They had failed. They had nearly torn the heavens asunder, and still—they had failed.

The Bishop was unconscious, fallen between the last words of his spell and the sudden return to reality. Whatever had happened had drained him, but had not killed him. Outside, birds sang their songs, oblivious the power that had been summoned, moments before. They sang, blissfully unaware of the failure of the Circle of the Phoenix. She had been willing to pay the cost. Was it simply too high for any to pay?

Xath began to cry, stubbornly unwilling to step from her place in the ritual circle. Though alone in allowing her cries to be heard, palpable sorrow seemed to fill the church, flooding the space around the altar.

A voice, unknown, echoed through the halls. L’Aurel remained still. Lifeless, a Mannequin of flesh. “What’s everybody crying about?”

Simultaneously, the circle’s eyes widened. There was someone—something here. They remained silent. Best, they agreed through the bond their rings afforded them, not to let whatever it is know what has happened. Weapons at the ready!

The voice echoed again, filling the air with the chords of a voice that seemed strange, yet familiar. “By the Light, what am I doing here? Where am I? What happened to that dragon?”

Swords, axes, and hammers all clattered to the floor at once. Dragon!? Could it be…?

Justice was the first to speak, untouched by both the fear of being wrong, and the fear of being right. “L’Aurel? Is that you? Where are you?”

“Of course it’s me! Who else would it be? The wounds I took must not be as bad as I thought. And what do you mean ‘where am I?’ I’m right here.”

Suddenly, inexplicably, a shadowed silhouette reared up behind Justice. Weaponless from the surprise of the voice, she could not defend herself. Kaereth started to move, driving his bulk toward his friend with a speed unparalleled. Shadow bad! Smash shadow!

Before he could reach her, however, the shadow stepped forward, illuminating her face in the light of the great stained windows of the cathedral. Selura!

As Kaereth crossed the space between the King’s servant and his place in the circle, Archonus cursed himself for being so foolish. She had mimicked death, and even now she mocked them with the words of a friend. She would pay dearly for the insult. She would pay for L’Aurel.

He crouched, hands searching for 2 blades, finding only Spark. Luminus was gone. He had forgotten. Fool! Drawing the single short blade in both hands, he advanced, hoping to reach Selura’s side just as Kaereth did.

Apparently unaware of the deadly charge of the warriors, Selura smiled. A toothy, unsure grin that looked remarkably out of place on the cold, cruel features of the woman who had once claimed their friendship, and then tried to claim their lies. The smile was a further mockery of L’Aurel, a twisted reflection of the wide, guileless features that had made the mid-elf so dear to them. Unless…

Arfin, the slowest to react, was the first to notice, with Justice and Xath realizing the same within a fraction of a second. “L’Aurel!” Justice, the closest, stepped sideways—directly into Kaereth’s path. She thought and yelled simultaneously, bringing both Kaereth and Archon to a sudden halt. “Stop! This is L’Aurel!”

“Of course it’s me,” she said, her words escaping from an unfamiliar face, her voice twisted by the new body it inhabited. “Now, what I want to know is simple – who’s the girl with all of my clothes on her, and where can I get something to eat? I’m starving!”

* * *​

Sometime later, as Aon began his long slumber, she found her way to the chapel. She wasn’t sure what all had happened, but this seemed as good a place as any to think. She thought she had died. That assumption had apparently been…premature. Whatever had happened, she was alive now. She thanked the Light for that.

She moved to the front of the tiny chapel, eyes seizing upon the glittering steel that had been Luminus. She picked up the blade for the first time, finally getting a good luck at the blade Archonus had suddenly acquired.

She slumped, sitting in the front pew of the tiny house of worship, feeling a little uncomfortable in her own skin. Shaking off the feeling, she turned the blade over in her hands as she tried to remember what had happened. Something seemed to be tugging at her memory. A thought, just beyond the edge of consciousness. Perhaps sleep would do the trick. Perhaps not. It would happen as the Light willed. Things always did.

She stood, taking a few practice swiped with the surprisingly light sword. She was still terrible with a blade. Father…Michael…wouldn’t have been pleased. The Light only knew what her father would think. She would have to ask him when she got the chance.

Nodding to herself, she slid the blade into her belt, taking a moment to gaze at the sapphire, shining like a blue star, set into the center of the blade, halfway between the basket hilt and the tip. She couldn’t fathom why Archon would have left it here, and although the cathedral grounds seemed safe enough, it seemed foolish to leave it here. Even in a church.

Whistling tunelessly to herself (I can’t seem to get my lips to work right…), she strolled out into the night, and back to her friends. Back to the Circle of the Phoenix.

 

[Laurel]

As the peace and quiet of night settled on the temple...

Justice lays in the bed but two feet away from L'Aurel's curled form on the floor.

L'Aurel lets her mind roam as she shifts trying to find that comfortable position that seems to be evading her this night. Unconsciously she twirls the ring on her finger, the gold band that has become as much symbol as a gift of magic. She remembers the brief chance of sleep in Oceanus and the strange dream she knows was not hers. She remembers the power of the circle that still binds the others, but for some reason only the light seems to know she has been cast from.

Xath has told her again and again to sleep since waking- waking in a strange place with memories missing and a body not quite right. She knows she has put this off long enough, so not knowing what is to come she takes the cord from her neck. Every part of her screaming she must see this alone. Tonight she is not part of the circle.

With regret she slips the ring from her finger and places it along the pendant of the woodshadow. She will wear it again, hopefully, when she has rejoined the circle, till then she will wear it only as part of the missions, only wear it as a tool of magic.

L'Aurel places an alarm on the door, knowing even here they are not entirely safe, and knows should it be needed her blood cousin will wake her.

Her eyes close, and for a moment peace settles and relaxes her. Then the dragon's mouth opens again...

 

[Queen_Dopplepopolis]

Justice sends a note to Cawys:

Cawys,

We desperately need your services. In your huge bag of tricks, do you happen to have a scroll with the Gate spell?

Yours,
Justice

 

[Queen_Dopplepopolis]

All directed to the Construct guy where we left off--

What can you tell us of the things that protect the blade?

Do you know where the switch is?

 

[The_Universe]

All directed to the Construct guy where we left off--

What can you tell us of the things that protect the blade?

Do you know where the switch is?

The metallic creature turns its expressionless face to you. "They are guardians, created by the ward for its protection."

It seems to ignore the second question.

 

[Archon]

Saved

Mixed emotions and confused thoughts whirled through Xath’s mind as she stood in front of the abbey in Caer Melyn. In front of her were two swords, both powerful artifacts sought after by all sides in this war. Behind her was Archonus Aerendor, gripping her hand supportively. At this moment, Xath wished that she had never heard of the Spirit Blades.
She had a choice to make. The others of the Circle had already cast their vote; whether to ally with the Bluestar, or to make a stand on their own to protect the Deathsblade. Her decision would tip the balance. If she voted to entrust the blade to the Bluestar, there would be a majority vote in the group; if she did not, there would be a tie. The Circle had always followed a democratic system: majority rules. But they had never had to vote on something this important before.
Justice stood across the swords, glaring at Xath while telling her why it was in her best interest to support the Bluestar at this point. Archonus gripped her hand more tightly, silently entreating her to side with him.
Meanwhile, there was him. Archonus Bluestar stood across from her, awaiting her decision. He stared at her with those eyes, the same eyes of the man who stood behind her, though his reflected a melancholy and pain deeper than any she had ever seen. He terrified her, and at the same time she silently pitied him. She could not comprehend what had happened to him, but she prayed with all her might that it never happened to her Archon.
Xath focused all of her thoughts inwards. She had to ignore the external pressures and emotional influence. This time she could not afford to act on impulse…
She never thought she would consider anything like this. Side with the Bluestar? The creature widely regarded as the quintessential evil of the Kingdom? The murderer of her family and clan; destroyer of her home; and perpetrator of more despicable acts than could seem possible? She had set out from Sylvannus to gain enough knowledge and experience to destroy the Bluestar, ridding the world of his presence once and for all. There was no way to know whether he would keep his word and destroy the thirteen blades or if he would use them as a nexus of power to further his evil devices. Could they entrust the safety of so many to such a power?
On the other hand, in keeping the sword, wouldn’t they be jeopardizing everything they had worked for? They would bring down the full wrath of Tain Hawkson on any place they tried to hide it. Siding with the Bluestar for now would give them the time they needed to prepare to protect the next blade. And it was not as though they would be losing a blade…In return, they would receive the Mansblade; not only one of the original falcon blades, but the Bluestar’s phylactery. The sparkle of the amulet around Xath’s neck told her that it was indeed a Spirit Blade. Whether or not it was truly the phylactery, they would have to take on faith. Xath sighed to herself. Siding with the Bluestar was something that had to be done to ensure the safety of the kingdom.
Xath refocused on her surroundings just in time to hear Justice say, "Now is your chance to take his pain." It was true that the decision Xath was about to make would curtail Archonus Aerendor's plans to journey to the frozen north, but she didn't need to be quilted into it by the cleric.
Xath stiffened her resolve and turned to face Archonus. She kissed him on the cheek and stared into his eyes, hoping with all her might that he would not take her decision as a betrayal. As a member of the circle, she had a right to her own decision, but Archonus had a way of taking things personally...
He still gripped her hands, but as she stepped backwards over the line, a sudden wave of fear and panic crossed his face. They were immediately replaced by anger and stoic resolution as he threw down her hands and turned to stalk away.
Archonus Bluestar's voice rang out behind her. "Then it has been decided." Xath moved to follow Archon, as what was left of Gyan Thunderheart bent to pick up the Deathsblade. As Archonus Aerendor began to move, Justice Fairweather's voice rang out in all of their minds, How does it feel to have someone take your pain, Archonus? Archon stopped without turning and removed the ring which allowed the circle's telepathic communication, casting it to the ground beside him. "Stay out of my mind, Fairweather," he said. With that, he continued walking.
Xath followed, holding up a cautionary hand to prevent the others of the circle from following. She stopped and picked up the ring, clutching it in her hand as she walked; setting herself a few paces behind him. After a few moments, he called out "Stop following me."
So she did. She instead sped up to pass him, and planted herself in his way. As he tried to move around her, she turned to block him, placing a hand on his chest. Turning his head away, he spoke in a half-whisper. "You've made your decision."
"Yes,” she replied. “And as a member of the Circle, it is my right to do so. What of it?”
He turned once again, to look at her. “I am making mine.” With that he tried to push past her, but she held her ground.
"What would you have had me do?" she asked. "Would you have me allow you to go off to the north? Would you have me let you leave forever?"
“I will return.”
“When?”
“When the blades are destroyed.”
Xath tried her best not to show the annoyance she was feeling over the man’s illogic. “And when, pray tell, will that be?” she asked. “You know as well as I that the blades cannot be destroyed until all thirteen are assembled.”
Archonus looked away once again. "I....I do not know," he replied.
Xath’s annoyance, in combination with the stress of the day’s events, was quickly growing into panic. As much as she tried not to show her strain, her voice began to reflect her emotional state. "Would you forsake your oath to the circle?” she said. “To the people of Hyrule?” Would you forsake me? she thought, though she did not say it.
Archonus raised his voice as he looked back at her. "I go North to ensure their safety. If the Bluestar uses the blades against us all will be lost!"
Now they were both shouting. "And what will you do to stop him?"
He paused for a moment looking down as if thinking of how to phrase his next sentence. He then looked back up to her, and with a calmer voice he said, “I will find his soul....if he still has one.”
And with that statement, all of the fire left her. Xath had long suspected that Archonus felt that his own redemption was somehow related to the salvation of his ancestor; and no matter how hard she tried to tell him otherwise, some part of Archonus longed to save the soul of the long dead lich, and by so doing, at least in his mind, save himself.
Xath looked up and placed her hand on Archonus' cheek. "I know you want to save him," she said, sympathy in her voice. "But we cannot always follow our hearts. Sometimes duty calls us to make the difficult decisions, rather than those we want to."
He turned away gently. "If I wait too long it might be too late."
Xath suppressed a wry smile and said, "He has waited a thousand years. Surely a little longer will make no difference"
"But if we wait till he has all of the blades..." He stopped, and then started again, "There may be no chance left."
Xath’s soft visage turned to one of stout determination. "He will not get all of the blades," she said resolutely. "We will see to that. We may not have been prepared to protect this one, but I do not intend to make the same mistake twice.”
Archonus narrowed his eyes in surprise. "Where are we going to take the others?"
She smiled, and her eyes glinted with mischief. "I have a few ideas," she said.
A rare thing, a half-smile, appeared on his face. Then, as fast as it showed itself it disappeared. "Then how will we get the Deathsblade back?
Xath noted Archon’s shift in demeanor. Seizing her opportunity, Xath linked arms with him and began walking absentmindedly, looking up as if searching the sky for an answer. She hoped he would not notice that they were heading back towards the rest of the Circle. "That is something we must handle when the time comes."
He walked with her a few steps before stopping. Turning to her, his face almost pleading he asked, “Do you think he can be saved?”
Pain clutched at Xath’s chest as she sought a way to answer this question. Xath had always believed in seeking out the redeeming qualities in everyone, no matter what their past, but this was the Bluestar; the most evil of the evils, the creature on whom she had sworn her revenge…the one who’s salvation meant so much to the man she loved…
"If some part of him, even the smallest part that he is unaware of, wants to be saved, than he can be saved, Archonus"
Archon smiled a true and lasting smile as he walked with her back to the Circle.
fin

(by the way, full writing credit goes to Gertie. I'm just putting it on the thread.)
mik

 

[Queen_Dopplepopolis]

Looks good, guys!!! Entertaining reading...

But-- HYRWL IS SPELLED WITH A W!

Pet peeve... hehehe...

 

[Xath]

Nevermind

Posted the story, but it was already posted by the Michols.

 

[Laurel]

Family dinner?

Sometime the last day we had, if Justice is in her room or around somewhere to be found.

L'aurel once she finds her, gives her a hug hello, "Justice, it has been a while since we could enjoy a simple dinner. Father and I would welcome your company with us tonight if you are free?"