Fodbgen stood still. His ears attempting to hear more of what was around him, but failing to pick up anything. He nodded taking a knee to the ground.
“My apologies lord.”
It would not do to make excuses of what was plain to see.
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Setara tried to keep her focus on watching the leaders. Occasionally drifting to scan the crowds and following where other threads attached. Though with her attention again on the dais, she realized the boy was still up there. Weren’t they pulled around the same time? How had he not received the blessing yet?
Seeing that the chalice Conleth held was that of the sun, Setara’s confusion grew. Weren’t they saying he was supposed to be blessed by the Moon? Or was that all a ruse? Perhaps nothing would go as any mortal expects.
In this watch, Setara heard a soft, “Oh.”
Though weakened, it was still her mother’s voice. Soon followed by a hand being placed on her shoulder, before it moved gathered some of her hair.
“My sunshine’s rays…dying. Blotted,” her mother said.
Setara turned towards her mother to face her. Still close enough to hold the locks, Setara looked down at the hair her mother held. It was not the pale luster of gold she expected. Replaced by foreign darkness; a kind that made even the ravens look like a shade of blue or violet.
Then she looked past her mother, seeing the rest of the family having made it towards the front. They squinted and stared at her as though a stranger. Taking the alien black hair away from her mother, she stared at it again. She couldn’t blame them. Would she even recognize her own reflection now?
“Could you hide it in your hat?” Her mother asked.
Setara let go of her hair and looked at her mother in silence. Then turned away and resuming her mission - watching the leaders. She couldn’t bring herself to answer. If she dared to open her mouth, what would even come out? Wails? Screams? Not words, she was certain of that. And if words did pour forth, it was none she should say.
For the second time, she wished to have worn her armor. For the first time, she knew her mother would approve. Even still, holding her staff between her legs, she messed with her hair to move it more underneath the hat.
“Everything will work out, just not how we envisioned,” Setara said to her.
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The detail on the chalice completely escaped Conleth’s limited attention span, so thoroughly enraptured by the rest of what was happening and the mystical air it possessed to think about how this was not at all what he envisioned. It was all toeing the line between fantastical and frightening, just familiar enough to awe and amaze him without spooking him in the process.
And then the stranger appeared in the corner of his vision. His head turned almost all the way to fully observe the colorful figure, but it abruptly snapped back to position as the reminder that he was in the middle of a very important ceremony smashed into his skull. Regret over not having gotten any better of a glimpse was quickly overpowered by the warm sensation that flowed into his fingertips not from the temperature of the liquid, but by its very nature.
Deeply inhaling, Conleth raised the chalice to his lips and began to drink, wondering as he did so if there was any indication as to when exactly he was supposed to stop.
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Tabor didn’t know how to feel, he was dumbfounded. He was just moments from death before Solar spoke up, ending the rage of Sol.
Slowly he brought his hands to his face and his the tears that came forth from the ordeal. He remained this way for several minutes, trying to compose himself. Reaching into his pocket he removed the flask. Looking at it, he came to the realization that he despised what he had become.
Removing the lid, he poured the remaining alcohol onto the steps before returning the empty flask to its hiding place once more.
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“Well, don’t do that. I don’t need you to apologize, darling.”
There was a sense that Lun was shaking his head, still smiling. The image of a roguishly handsome man, his eyes colored silver, his hair white and shining, manifested itself in Fodbgen’s head.
“But I do see a bit of the charm of myself in you. That dashingness.”
He grinned.
“I think you’ll be wonderful as one of my chosen, mmmm?”
There was a flicker of movement in the corner of Setara’s eye. A figure, draped in a cloak stained with many colors, was walking past the crowd. The smell of flowers followed them.
A symbol was etched into the back of their hand, at first glance. Until one looked closer- it wasn’t a symbol at all. It was a flower. A flower was growing out of their hand.
At first, it was quiet. There was nothing. The ichor tasted of nothing. Then a droning noise, a low hum, that soon became a loud cacophony. Burning, clashing voices, their words and intents indecipherable, the noise unbearable. The sound grew to be deafening, any other drowned by the writhing sea of voices. The ichor tasted bitter, clawing its way into the gut.
Then, as if according to a will far beyond, the voices merged into a chorus, speaking in unison.
“Child of Astrea…found worthy, traitor to none, seen to all, hear us. You know our name…You know our cause. Heed us. Our children brink at the precipice of extinction. We are gone to the winds.”
The chorus sounded ancient, unearthly. They did not radiate warmth, coldness, or malice, but a sense of unbearable longing and misery.
“Soon, the Priest shall reveal herself, and shall carry the Strand. When that moment comes, you shall be offered a choice. THAT, is more than what any of the others shall ever give you.”
Shidris sighed, gesturing for him to remove himself from the dais. Irritation was clear enough on her face. In her opinion, Tebor had all but ruined the entire day for her, and everyone else too, likely. This day couldn’t possibly get any worse…
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Conleth barely had time to hand the chalice back before the full effects hit, his hands trying and failing to choose between gripping his head and clutching his stomach, instead opting for the much less helpful option of indecisively traveling through the air between the two. The thought of this display being visible to one of his relatives barely crossed his mind, as getting out of what was for the comparatively pampered Conleth unbearable torture remained his highest priority.
And then the voices - what he had not even processed as real voices before - coalesced, and he quickly regretted their doing so.
Conleth’s scalp tingled. He couldn’t tell if he was itching or burning, or radiating excitement through his skin. It was terrifying, these voices, and it took him a moment to stop trying to figure out where they were coming from and actually process what he had heard.
…Luna?
No, that didn’t make sense. The thread was- well, anyway, this didn’t sound like Luna or Lun. Or at least, not the mental image Conleth had of the pair. But those voices… Far more than two. It was some emissary he was unfamiliar with; yes, that was it, and the mystery was finally solved.
Wait that doesn’t solve anything-
“Uh,” Conleth opened his mouth to respond, getting too far into his reply before realizing he didn’t have anything worth saying or even remotely proving he understood what was being talked about. “I d- I’m- Uhh-”
He could feel his shoulders sinking closer together as he imagined a drop of sweat rolling down his temple. “I’ll-” He forced a swallow, the ichor still in his throat making the process noticeably difficult. “Okay.”
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In excited and active crowds like these, seeing flickers of movement was not unusual. There are many moving limbs, bodies, and random objects to snatch away the attention of the easily startled and distracted. But a guard is not taught to ignore such moments and only focus on their targets. No, they’re taught to identify what movements matter, to quickly acknowledge and respond as appropriate. And for a trained knight like herself, one oft on night patrols were light and shadow flicker with false movement, the distinction was paramount. As was the other oddities.
Setara turned towards the figure to get a better look. Spotting the flower, her hand paled as it clutched her staff. Perhaps it was a mistake. Perhaps they were merely holding a flower and she was imagining it coming out of their hand. How could any get so close? On this day, with so many knights? Yet, her intuition screamed for her to follow them. To ignore Ombre’s order to simply watch.
She eyes them only a moment before making her choice. One that escalates depending on where the figure is going. If they’re heading towards the dais and have no thread attached to them, she walks up to them quickly from behind. If they’re going the opposite direction, whether it’s walking through or around the crowd to leave from the back or side, she chases them with a light jog.
In either case, before Setara heads after the figure, she tells her mother quickly, “Please, keep watch of the priest for me. I shall return shortly.”
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Tebor could feel the disdain coming from Shidris, but it was nothing compared to the fire he felt in his veins. He truly came within moments of dying, joining his family in the afterlife. The fact that he was almost incinerated wasn’t lost on him, much like his parents; but not at the hands of a deity, but by the angry mob from his home town; their anger flared to life by the jealous priests of the temple. He allowed his hurt to blind him, and it almost cost him his life. He screwed the cap back onto the flask, falling to his hands and knees, giving thanks for sparing his life. With one final gesture, he slid the flask across the street, it’s metal body skipping alone the cobblestones and into a storm drain, never to be seen again.
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Fodbgen of course, had no idea what he himself looked like, so that didn’t quite register with him. However, he did politely nod.
He also did not know why a god would choose a blind man as a chosen, but also it was not within the understanding of a mortal to question eternity.
Fodgen spoke still kneeling, “Let it be as you say.”
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“How wearying…you do not even know us…very well…then there is no need for you.”
The voices rumbled, as they began to retreat from his mind…
"But we will not leave you in the care of the moon…no…that would be unwise…the sun is far better…
“A valuable choice…remember, young one…the strand…”
The voices disappeared from his mind completely.
And then something changed. The sigils on Conleth’s hair shifted, from its normal color, to a shining yellow, as his hand glowed a warm orange.
“This…uhhh…well, unexpected.”
Solar’s voice said slowly, now within Conleth’s head.
The figure walked with a strange gait, as they began to move towards the gate. They looked behind their shoulder, likely with the intent of seeing if they’re being followed, before spotting Setara jogging intently towards them. At the sight of her, they began running, sprinting towards the gate.
The crowd stared in utter silence at Tebor. They looked at him with suspicion, with borderline contempt. Their eyes bored into him, like little needles piercing a ragdoll.
Before then looking at Conleth. And gasping in horror.
“Well I think-”
@Ghid
@ajtazt
@BynariDistress
@keiththelegokid
Before anything else could happen, everything seemed to go into slow motion. The night sky grew empty, the moon and sun suddenly gone from view. All that was left was the twinkling of those distant stars. The voices of the gods were silenced, their presence winked out in an instant. The threads disappeared. Whispers swarmed where the gods voices were, a quiet cacophony indescribable. And then…there it was. Burning bright, brighter than anything in over 200 years. Pure orange, a trail of radiant light left in its wake. Like an unblinking eye.
The Comet.
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Wait-!
It took Conleth’s awed mind the entirety of the conversation to realize the voices were about to dump him, and was so slow on the draw he was only able to conceive of an objection after they had already reversed course and left. But the Strand… What in the world is the Strand?
Maybe I should’ve payed more attention to, well, everything about this entire process over the course of my life instead of just waiting for the prophesied day to arrive where I can finally justify my trying to make myself feel special.
…But I want to feel special…
Perhaps the tingling in his scalp was more than a reaction on his part… Of course, he had no way of knowing, because he was incapable of seeing it at the moment. If the crowd behind him gave any kind of reaction, it was ignored in favor of once again trying to find where Solar’s voice was coming from and shamefully trying to swallow down the embarrassment of looking around for a voice inside his own head.
“Uhh… Hi?”
He could feel the back of his neck tighten as if his father had just backhanded his head to get him to be more polite. He was talking to, well… Someone significantly more powerful than him, after all.
“I mean Sir? I mean-”
He didn’t need to see the crowd to understand who they were gasping about.
Another extremely forced gulp preceded his slow turn in the direction of the mortified townsfolk, feeling his soul get crushed into a billion trillion pieces at this utter indignation. As his gaze got closer and closer to confronting the crowd head-on, he silently begged the universe at large to do something - anything - to save him from this humiliation.
Oh.
Conleth froze in place for a brief moment, flabbergasted by the notion that somehow, his request had been heard. But his frightened eyes grew larger and larger as those around him seemed to stop, frozen in place, moving too slowly for him to detect.
…And yet, there was movement.
The blind guy was the first to catch his eye, and Conleth quickly averted his gaze from him. Despite being clearly blind he seemed to have some kind of special sense that kept him from running into everything around him, and it made Conleth wary of directly interacting with him in any capacity.
Tebor was next, and although Conleth had only rarely seen him in the past, he got enough of an idea from today to thoroughly dislike him as a loud, disrespectful drunk. He appeared to be on his hands and knees, in the middle of… Hopefully not throwing up, but Conleth wasn’t about to put it past him.
But the girl, the one from before. Where was she?
The orange glow was faint enough that it was the last priority Conleth had to worry about, but when he finally turned his eyes upwards it felt impossible to pull them away. The blazing fire in the heavens was all-encompassing, all-demanding. It was enrapturing and harrowing at the same time; his heart vibrated with both excitement and dread.
In fact, he almost forgot about how embarrassed he had just been.
Almost.
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The moment this stranger started to run, doubt was erased from her mind. They had to be one of them. Gathering more her dress’s skirt, she picked up the pace and sprinted in pursuit. Though this resulted in her holding the staff in an awkward one-handed position, clutching as much fabric needed to be clear for running. If she needed to hit the stranger, she would need to be careful in how she slowed down and repositioned.
More importantly, Setara chastised herself for not having her horn. She left it at home with her armor. It was a tool to alert people of danger and unexpected horn blows during the celebration could cause unneeded panic. But how could one resist using it during such a joyous occasion? Alas, voice alone would have to do for now.
“You there!” Setara shouts at them. “Where are you going?”
Though perhaps too late, she tried to pass her pursuit as an inviting question. Anything to give them pause.
She continues, “It has not…”
Setara’s words become slow and drawn out. She hears the crowd gasp and tries to ignore it. Whatever was happening, there were enough knights behind her to handle the issue. Yet that gnawing curiosity forces her to slow down just enough to look back and see the event.
“…ended…”
Her paced slows. She comes to a stop. Staring at the sky above, mouth open in surprise.
“…no…” Setara whimpers.
Is this what worried Ombre? Setara wonders. Is that why…
Coming back to, Setara remembered her target. That stranger was surely one of the Comet’s children. They would have information. She needed to catch them. Now. She starts running again before looking, hoping in her short stop that they did not get too far. She tries to find sight of them again and give chase.
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He could feel their looks of disgust, their piercing gaze sadly all too familiar. At first, he regretted tossing aside the flask, his natural inclination to use its contents to drown out their judgmental stares; but he knew that was nothing more than a crutch; one that almost brought about his ruin.
And then he heard them gasp. Something about the sound shook him from his self pity. He looked up, noticing the dreadful gaze of the crowd had left him, their heads tilted back, many with mouths agape. He carefully stood, his joints aching from the torch like anger from the gods; brushing himself off, he flowing their eyes and saw it.
The comet …
He couldn’t help himself, his self loathing and hatred toward those that had mislabeled him quickly turned to rage. Not against the gods, nor the people in the crowd; but at that thing in the sky. And yet, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from it. He hadn’t realized, but he had once more ascended the steps and stood near Shidris.
“Forgive my boldness …” he said, briefly moving his eyes from the comet to her, “is that what I think it is?” He asked. Once more turning to look up at the interloper, his hand shielding his eyes from its brilliance.
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The expression on Shidris’s face was nothing short of pure, unadulterated horror at the sight of the comet. She found herself almost shaking in fear. It hasn’t been this quiet since…since…since the first time. Her breathing became shaky, and she barely even noticed Conleth beside her.
The city itself was dead silent, as all looked on in absolute terror.
Fortunately, in the figures hasty retreat, they stumbled, toppling over their white cloak and smacking onto the cobbles of the street. They struggled to their feet, petals fluttering off of their body.
Unfortunately, almost everyone was captivated by the comet to notice this.
“…It…It…” She was too stunned to speak. The ground began to shake, as the Comet traveled through the sky. A massive rumble, as the earth beneath their feet shifted.
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Tebor turned to her once more. The confidence she held only moments ago faltering under the weight of the omen crossings the sky. “Shidris!” His voice low but pointed, “You need to snap out of it. These people need direction, now more than ever.” He kept his head tilted back, as though he was transfixed on the comet, slowly moving closer to her until he was nearly touched the priestess. “Please Shidris, order the knights to act, get these people to safety.” He knew he was out of line for his actions mere moments ago, but this no longer concerned just him. If the people were to maintain their faith in their leaders, now was the time to act.
“Alright Sol, Solar - let’s do this. What do you wish of your servant in this time?” He thought, eyes once more returning to the ominous object tearing a fiery trail through the sky.
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Provided that stumble was early in their retreat, Setara catches up to them and proceeds to run around them. Placing herself about four feet in front of their path to escape. Letting go of her skirt, Setara takes a ready-stance for combat, staff now held in both hands with anticipation to bat the thing.
“Answer to me - what have you done? What is happening?!” Setara tries to give in a commanding voice. Though she could not fully control the trembles coming out of her.
When the ground shakes, Setara does her best to keep herself steady. Her footwork assists in this, but if it’s particularly intense she would use her staff to help keep herself standing.
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Conleth’s head snapped towards Shidris, having completely forgotten she existed in that brief moment of time. However, he didn’t have long to be startled by this revelation, as the obnoxious drunk started speaking again.
Conleth was caught between being impressed at the sudden and unprecedented spurt of leadership qualities from the unapologetic heretic and disgust at his blatant irreverence of the woman apparently called Shidris. But, yet again, his thoughts were once again interrupted by another distraction, this time in the inconveniencing form of the ground violently shaking.
Nearly spilling over instantly, Conleth threw his foot behind him to balance out, smacking the blades on his hips out of the way as he teetered back and forth. It’s okay, it’s okay, this’ll all make sense real soon… Right?
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Fodgen stood up as chaos surrounded him. Everyone was commenting quite loudly on the circumstances, but he himself couldn’t see anything. He moved closer to a wall, and stood up against it.
It was always wise to be up against a wall just in case a riot broke out, never was great to be in the crowd when you couldn’t see where they were rushing to.
He didn’t know what to do, so he stood still and waited.
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(OOC: Sorry this took me so long)
“They’re not her jurisdiction, you imprudent imp.” Steelstone snapped from behind her, his helmet gleaming in the orange light. He turned and barked out orders to the throes of silvery knights, as they jumped to attention, grabbing their spears.
“FORM A PERIMETER! I WANT ALL EYES AND EARS!” He boomed, seizing his sword. He glared at Tebor.
“Out of my way.” He snarled, as he pushed past him.
The only thing that graced Tebors mind was the dissonant whispers and meaningless garbled noises. The gods had been all but cut out from the equation entirely.
They were on their own.
The stranger looked up at her with neither contempt nor hatred, but fear. Their eyes were wide and alert, and they darted here and there, as if looking for escape. When they hear Setara’s question, they glare at her with outrage.
“Done?! Done what?! I haven’t done anythi-”
@Ghid
@keiththelegokid
@ajtazt
@BynariDistress
KRAKOOM.
Like a massive maw opening, the street of Eclipse split open, the dais tearing open as well, leading into a unending void. The ancient dais itself struggles to not fall into the great darkness, as Steelstone pulls Shidris away from the schism that was forming, with Conleth, Tebor, and Fodgen all on the other side of the dais, and the rest of the city trembles. The swathes of people once cheering now screaming, as the Knights struggle to secure order in the chaos. Setara and the stranger begin to also find themselves being stuck in the midst of the rift, as the ground gives way.
Soon, the threads begin to vanish, as the ceremony is now completely lost, and now here they are, teetering on the brink. The air becomes choked with dust and dirt, and the whispers grow louder.
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Tebor ignored the man, afterall he had been called worse by better men. Instead, his gaze remained on the scene unfolding high above. In spite of the sudden change in atmosphere, he held an odd calmness, something that he hadn’t felt in years. There was almost a peace about this whole affair that he couldn’t quite put his finger on.
“Must of struck a nerve.” Tebor thought, shaking his head ever so slightly. Normally he would have replied in mock reference for the man; some form of banter that would come across as flattery with an ever not so subtle jab at the man’s ego that caused such a visceral reaction, but this wasn’t the time to engage in a battle of wits with someone he knew little to nothing about; especially if the man was willing to become upset over something like this. He sighed … “Their world was in the middle of upheaval and yet people still cling to petty issues.” He thought, the fire streaking across the sky capturing his attention.
Then it hit him … why was he so focused at the moment? And why was he so nonchalant about this whole thing? Even these thoughts didn’t bother him.
He reached for his flask, then remembered he had tossed it away.
“What a time to quit drinking.” He thought.
Then he noticed the silence … his brow furrowed as he tried desperately to hear the voices once more, the realization of being alone with his own thoughts once more feeling … odd? Odd, would be the best way to put it; like a splinter that was once in his mind, the absence almost palpable.
Just as he began to ponder what had happened …
The ground shook violently causing Tebor to loose his balance. He fell forward, his arms flinging out to break his fall as the ground rushed up to greet him. He hit hard, his wrist giving out under the roiling street. Then the ground split open, a chasm forming as the soil fell away into the abyss. He began to slide forward, the stones in front of him falling away …
He fought with all his might, pressing hard against the pavers, hoping they would hold.
He stopped sliding. Not really from anything he had done, more likely blind stupid luck if anything at all. He stood with a groan, his wrists and knees aching from the fall; and dusted himself off. He looked across the opening in the road then to Shidris and who he assumed was her bodyguard? The name Steelstone popped into his head as he looked at the man.
“At least he got her to safety.” He thought.
Wait … why did he care if the woman got to safety? Why was he still so calm despite almost falling into the hole? This has been one CENSOR of a night.
He watched as the glow of the thread dimmed before finally fading away completely, and with it that nagging feeling of emptiness in his mind, Sol and Solar not longer speaking to him. He was alone … again. Then he noticed those around him; the others from the ceremony.
“This has definitely been an interesting night.”
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