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Entry tags:
- !event,
- *npc: cyrus,
- arcane: silco,
- arcane: vander,
- black butler: sebastian michaelis,
- ennead: set,
- expanse (the): amos burton,
- final fantasy xiv: cid garlond,
- final fantasy xiv: emet-selch,
- final fantasy xiv: hythlodaeus,
- genshin impact: kaeya alberich,
- granblue fantasy: eustace,
- mortal kombat 11: shang tsung,
- oc: liem talbott,
- orv: sooyoung han,
- persona 5 strikers: sophia,
- tiger & bunny: barnaby brooks jr.,
- until death do us part: mamoru hijikata
TDM + GAME OPENING 🎉
Who: Shard-Bearers, new and old
What: Seeds take root
Where: The Tree of Life, Highstorm, Springstar
When: October 14th and onwards
Warnings: Potential for (mild) body horror, death, dismemberment
Welcome to Kenos! As a reminder, all players are required to fill out an application, which are now open. This does include characters/players from Aion Teleos, so please don’t forget to fill one out! Any character/player that does not submit an application will be swept from the communities and the Discord after applications close.
Activity Check is optional this month, but is highly recommend so Christy can check her fancy program so that you can earn Activity Reward Tokens! Activity will be able to be submitted shortly after applications close. You can find more about how we do AC here.
This log is Game Canon. Any characters who are not apped to the game will disappear. If Cyrus or Yima are asked, they’ll explain that this happens sometimes, since not every soul has a strong tether to Kenos and sometimes return to the Timestream. They’re fine and may even return to Kenos one day, but for now weren’t able to make the full journey.
As a reminder, your character has a Shard somewhere on their body that encompasses their soul, so keep note of where you're sticking it on their person for reference! Additionally, they have a tattoo of their Aspect somewhere on their body. Please be mindful this Aspect will be assigned to you upon approval and whatever you choose for the TDM may be temporary (for new characters)!
For the Highstorm and Springstar prompts, both cities will be fully open and accessible to all characters once they are saved from their rather harrowing ordeal at the Tree of Life. For prompt ideas and any general information about the cities and what you can find there, please see the Navigation page and check out the locations!
New players are welcome to join our Discord Server if you haven't already!
When they emerge from their cocoon/the ground, characters may be wearing their normal clothes, or they might be nude. Up to you!
At some point in the days after leaving the Tree of Life, new Shard-Bearers will have a dream, even if they're usually not capable of sleeping. All new players should read this post, since this details how they'll learn about both factions and their goals and should help them make a decision in which Faction they'd be drawn to.
New characters will not have access to any canon abilities on the TDM.
Your character will be offered temporary housing either at the Heliopolis district or Yima's manor for the first few weeks after their arrival. They will also be given a stipend for basic supplies like clothing and personal effects, and food is served in the cantina (Heliopolis) and at regular meal times in the Dining Room (Yima's manor). Once they Harmonize, they will get personal permanent chambers and a fancy retainer in their Faction's city. Wow! 🌈
Characters may be Harmonized to their Faction (if that makes sense for the character, of course!) by the time of this log. This is more for IC reference, and just wait until application acceptance to do the OOC paperwork!
General reminder that your character won't have access to their powers until they have Harmonized.
CODING
What: Seeds take root
Where: The Tree of Life, Highstorm, Springstar
When: October 14th and onwards
Warnings: Potential for (mild) body horror, death, dismemberment
I. BEARING FRUIT (new characters only)
It starts out as a pleasant dream. You’re in your favorite place, with your favorite people. It’s a moment of idyllic comfort.
And then, it goes wrong.
The sky turns dark above, and as you look up, you see the black expanse of space spotted with faraway pinprick lights of stars. Yet, they’re not stars. You’re certain. They’re watching you. A billion eyes all looking down, and they spill forth as if sky itself was a dam holding back those dark waters. You reach back to the people you’re with, but they’re frozen in place. Their eyes are black, reflecting only the expanse of dark eyes.
So you run, even though you know you won’t escape it. You glance back and see it not overtaking, but consuming. The landscape around you is being devoured, and you can see it cracking apart. The world itself is breaking, and it cracks under your feet. You fall, and the billion eyes chase after you until the darkness swallows you whole. There’s agony as if you’re being ripped apart, and then—
You cannot see. You cannot feel. You simply are. Yet even so, impossibly, a woman’s voice speaks gently.
I’m sorry it couldn’t be saved. But, come, it’s time to wake.
You wake with a start, cradled by soft, velvety plants, and sticky with a sap that smells faintly of honey and iron. You can see the veins of the leaves that hold you, lit warmly and gently by what looks like a crystal embedded above you. Yet, it’s odd, because that crystal calls to you. When you reach out to touch it, it’s warm. Familiar. Important. You don’t know why, but you know you must hold onto this, because now it feels wrong for it to be suspended in these leaves. So, you pull it out.
The light starts to fade, but only in time to see as the leaves cradling you immediately start to soften and crumble, and with it comes a torrent of dirt. Soft, loamy soil starts to fill the space around you in the dark as you’re buried. Or, rather, you already were. You reach out through the dirt desperately, and your hands finds a root, so you pull while you clutch that precious crystal so close that it almost feels like it sinks into you (in your panic, you don’t notice that it does). You reach out again, and this time, your hand hits open air and plenty of sturdy roots around to grab.
From a seed you’re born, and like a sprout, you make your way out of the ground.
And once you’ve clawed your way out of the soft earth and the roots, nearby, you see the soil shift. Another hand comes up to grasp desperately for something, anything, just as you had been.
And then, it goes wrong.
The sky turns dark above, and as you look up, you see the black expanse of space spotted with faraway pinprick lights of stars. Yet, they’re not stars. You’re certain. They’re watching you. A billion eyes all looking down, and they spill forth as if sky itself was a dam holding back those dark waters. You reach back to the people you’re with, but they’re frozen in place. Their eyes are black, reflecting only the expanse of dark eyes.
So you run, even though you know you won’t escape it. You glance back and see it not overtaking, but consuming. The landscape around you is being devoured, and you can see it cracking apart. The world itself is breaking, and it cracks under your feet. You fall, and the billion eyes chase after you until the darkness swallows you whole. There’s agony as if you’re being ripped apart, and then—
You cannot see. You cannot feel. You simply are. Yet even so, impossibly, a woman’s voice speaks gently.
I’m sorry it couldn’t be saved. But, come, it’s time to wake.
You wake with a start, cradled by soft, velvety plants, and sticky with a sap that smells faintly of honey and iron. You can see the veins of the leaves that hold you, lit warmly and gently by what looks like a crystal embedded above you. Yet, it’s odd, because that crystal calls to you. When you reach out to touch it, it’s warm. Familiar. Important. You don’t know why, but you know you must hold onto this, because now it feels wrong for it to be suspended in these leaves. So, you pull it out.
The light starts to fade, but only in time to see as the leaves cradling you immediately start to soften and crumble, and with it comes a torrent of dirt. Soft, loamy soil starts to fill the space around you in the dark as you’re buried. Or, rather, you already were. You reach out through the dirt desperately, and your hands finds a root, so you pull while you clutch that precious crystal so close that it almost feels like it sinks into you (in your panic, you don’t notice that it does). You reach out again, and this time, your hand hits open air and plenty of sturdy roots around to grab.
From a seed you’re born, and like a sprout, you make your way out of the ground.
And once you’ve clawed your way out of the soft earth and the roots, nearby, you see the soil shift. Another hand comes up to grasp desperately for something, anything, just as you had been.
II. MORAL HAZARD
There are new Shard-Bearers at the Tree of Life, and Yima has asked that the earlier arrivals go to greet them and help them. These aren’t people from Horos, after all, so they’ll have many, many questions. As Yima explains, the roots of the tree rise up to create caverns underneath, and it’s there you’ll find the new Shard-Bearers. And indeed, with careful steps to not slip on the mossy roots, down you go. Perhaps Communion will help you find the new Shard-Bearers, but it might be a confusing process for them.
The roots all start to look the same, to the point that you’re sure that you’ve already been through this passage. You turn around, and most of the people you had come here with are gone, if not all of them. It’s confusing and unsettling, and strangest of all.. You’re starting to feel ill, even if that wasn’t something normally possible for you. But continuing forward, you do eventually find an unfamiliar face of a new Shard-Bearer. They look no better than you feel.
Before introductions, however, roots around you shift suddenly until you’re enclosed in a room together. From the roots, a face forms in the wall. It speaks in a creaking, uneven tone, as if it weren’t used to speaking at all.
Give to take. A sacrifice. To live.
Characters can pick one of the following options, but the decision must be made unanimously. If one character takes a drastic action (such as murdering another), it’s counted as a failure for the group.
This can be done in groups of 2 to 4 players, and Loremasters recommend three if you can swing it! It’s more fun when you get in philosophical debates, right? Regardless, when your group comes to a decision, please record it here. These don’t have to be fully threaded out to be recorded, so the conclusion can be discussed OOC if you prefer. Actions can be submitted until October 21st, after which groups will be informed of what comes of their choice…
When a group receives the antidote, they'll be released from the tree's thrall... But will have a hard time waking up. It feels like something has grabbed onto their spine.
The roots all start to look the same, to the point that you’re sure that you’ve already been through this passage. You turn around, and most of the people you had come here with are gone, if not all of them. It’s confusing and unsettling, and strangest of all.. You’re starting to feel ill, even if that wasn’t something normally possible for you. But continuing forward, you do eventually find an unfamiliar face of a new Shard-Bearer. They look no better than you feel.
Before introductions, however, roots around you shift suddenly until you’re enclosed in a room together. From the roots, a face forms in the wall. It speaks in a creaking, uneven tone, as if it weren’t used to speaking at all.
Give to take. A sacrifice. To live.
LET'S PLAY A GAME...
As the Dryad will explain, characters are now trapped in a room and have been poisoned by the spores that the lichens underfoot release. An antidote lays beyond the roots the dryad has curled around you, but to access it, you must make a sacrifice.Characters can pick one of the following options, but the decision must be made unanimously. If one character takes a drastic action (such as murdering another), it’s counted as a failure for the group.
- Each of you must offer up a personal/treasured memory. The memory will be shared in Communion with all characters assembled, and then will be destroyed. No character will retain the memory or memory of its Communion.
- Each of you must offer up something physical. A finger, a toe, an ear, it’s your choice. The dryad will offer a knife if this is chosen that will sever the body part of choice cleanly and immediately stop any bleeding.
- Offer up another. Kill one person in the room.
- Refusing is also a valid option. Characters will get more ill as they debate until they start to find it difficult to breathe, and they’ll die quickly after.
This can be done in groups of 2 to 4 players, and Loremasters recommend three if you can swing it! It’s more fun when you get in philosophical debates, right? Regardless, when your group comes to a decision, please record it here. These don’t have to be fully threaded out to be recorded, so the conclusion can be discussed OOC if you prefer. Actions can be submitted until October 21st, after which groups will be informed of what comes of their choice…
When a group receives the antidote, they'll be released from the tree's thrall... But will have a hard time waking up. It feels like something has grabbed onto their spine.
III. DREAMING OF HOME
You may wake with a start from your deliberations (or arguments) with a jolt of pain from the base of your spine as something is pulled away rapidly. A dark-haired man who looks to be in his thirties or so holds you carefully, but as soon as you start to regain your senses, he sets you back and holds up his hands.
Woah— Woah there, it’s fine! The tree was, uh, trying to take you back is all. You’re fine now.
As long as you’re not going to attack him, he offers a friendly smile and a hand to shake.
Name’s Cyrus. Sorry about the rude awakening. Let’s get your friend here unhooked too.
And indeed, glancing over, you can see the person you met in that room laying nearby, and it looks like a vine has snaked underneath them to exactly where something had just been pulled from you… Best not to think about it, maybe. Or if you've been unlucky enough to be one of the last people rescued, you might find vines and roots starting to grow into your skin. It's fine!
Cyrus will gladly introduce himself to everyone, and will further explain his position in Meridian and Springstar (see the NPC Page) and the goals of Meridian itself (see the Faction Page, save for the italicized section). But most importantly, he’ll explain that he knows it sounds like something overly optimistic. It’s fair to be skeptical. He’ll produce a small glass bead from a bag he’s carrying. It looks like the necklace he wears, though not lit up. He’ll explain that the force of Meridian is a gift and can be a tether to your home, if you let it. As his fingertips light up, the energy is infused into the bead, which he’ll hand to you.
Taking the bead into your hands, you’ll take a bird’s eye view of your home world as if your consciousness is split, since you’ll still perceive standing in front of Cyrus at the tree. Rather than a vision, the view of your world is absolutely real, you’re certain. It’s a glimpse at the world that you thought destroyed, and if you focus on a particular place or a particular person, you’ll find the view shifting rapidly to it. No one you watch is aware of your presence, but simply continues about their daily life, whatever that is. But after about a minute, the view will fade as the light in the bead also fades.
That’s an iliachtida, a sunbeam, and when infused with Meridian’s light, allows someone Harmonized to it to check in on their world, he explains. It also acts as an anchor that tethers their soul to their world in the Timestream. With it, their world can’t entirely disappear, so eventually, they can go home. It’s a gift he’ll allow anyone that wants it to keep it, but indeed, they’ll be unable to use it again without first Harmonizing to Meridian.
To help manage threadload for the Loremasters playing Cyrus, we ask that you only tag him with the character you are most likely to app. Similarly, new tag-ins will not be accepted after Monday, October 17th.
Woah— Woah there, it’s fine! The tree was, uh, trying to take you back is all. You’re fine now.
As long as you’re not going to attack him, he offers a friendly smile and a hand to shake.
Name’s Cyrus. Sorry about the rude awakening. Let’s get your friend here unhooked too.
And indeed, glancing over, you can see the person you met in that room laying nearby, and it looks like a vine has snaked underneath them to exactly where something had just been pulled from you… Best not to think about it, maybe. Or if you've been unlucky enough to be one of the last people rescued, you might find vines and roots starting to grow into your skin. It's fine!
CYRUS, THE TRIBUNE
Cyrus is the NPC heading up the Meridian Faction, and is available to thread with under this header. Cyrus has come to the Tree of Life to help rescue the Shard-Bearer’s from the Tree, so he’s not going to be inclined to explain too much right away, since he’s on a mission, but he’ll stick around once everyone is successfully freed from Prompt 2 to speak with anyone that wants to. The following is just an OOC summary of information in case you do not need to thread with Cyrus:Cyrus will gladly introduce himself to everyone, and will further explain his position in Meridian and Springstar (see the NPC Page) and the goals of Meridian itself (see the Faction Page, save for the italicized section). But most importantly, he’ll explain that he knows it sounds like something overly optimistic. It’s fair to be skeptical. He’ll produce a small glass bead from a bag he’s carrying. It looks like the necklace he wears, though not lit up. He’ll explain that the force of Meridian is a gift and can be a tether to your home, if you let it. As his fingertips light up, the energy is infused into the bead, which he’ll hand to you.
Taking the bead into your hands, you’ll take a bird’s eye view of your home world as if your consciousness is split, since you’ll still perceive standing in front of Cyrus at the tree. Rather than a vision, the view of your world is absolutely real, you’re certain. It’s a glimpse at the world that you thought destroyed, and if you focus on a particular place or a particular person, you’ll find the view shifting rapidly to it. No one you watch is aware of your presence, but simply continues about their daily life, whatever that is. But after about a minute, the view will fade as the light in the bead also fades.
That’s an iliachtida, a sunbeam, and when infused with Meridian’s light, allows someone Harmonized to it to check in on their world, he explains. It also acts as an anchor that tethers their soul to their world in the Timestream. With it, their world can’t entirely disappear, so eventually, they can go home. It’s a gift he’ll allow anyone that wants it to keep it, but indeed, they’ll be unable to use it again without first Harmonizing to Meridian.
To help manage threadload for the Loremasters playing Cyrus, we ask that you only tag him with the character you are most likely to app. Similarly, new tag-ins will not be accepted after Monday, October 17th.
III. SPRINGSTAR, αιώνιος ήλιος
After your ordeals at the Tree of Life, perhaps you’re drawn to Springstar, the city of eternal sun and the seat of Meridian.
It’s currently (and fittingly) Spring in Springstar, and the bustling city is coming back to life after finishing up winter. It’s not as if the winters are especially harsh here, but you’ll quickly get the sense that the people of Springstar are vivacious and happy to celebrate. You’ll find the Entertainment District to be the liveliest, whether it’s at a rowdy bar or a brothel, but no matter what, you’re welcome with open arms and without question.
Of course, if you’d just like to use the chance to explore the city alongside your fellow Shard-Bearers, that’s fine too. It’s easy to get lost in the crowds of Springstar and see all the city has to offer.
It’s currently (and fittingly) Spring in Springstar, and the bustling city is coming back to life after finishing up winter. It’s not as if the winters are especially harsh here, but you’ll quickly get the sense that the people of Springstar are vivacious and happy to celebrate. You’ll find the Entertainment District to be the liveliest, whether it’s at a rowdy bar or a brothel, but no matter what, you’re welcome with open arms and without question.
Of course, if you’d just like to use the chance to explore the city alongside your fellow Shard-Bearers, that’s fine too. It’s easy to get lost in the crowds of Springstar and see all the city has to offer.
IV. HIGHSTORM, луны-близнецы
Or maybe Highstorm, the city of twin moons and the seat of Zenith is more to your liking. It’s certainly the quieter of the two cities and is a relaxing, meditative place if that’s what you prefer. The chill in the air is constant, since it’s Autumn in Highstorm and the eternal night doesn’t help keep things warm, exactly. Snow isn’t out of the question at this time of the year, but it’s beautiful in the moonlight.
Because of the cooler weather than Highstorm is prone to, you’ll find many of its delights inside rather than outside. Libraries and museums are popular in the more introspective city, though it’s easy enough to find something that might please you. For example, the indoor hot baths are popular at this time of the year too. You’ll find the people are kind, if cool-tempered, though if you mention the fact that you’re a Shard-Bearer or allied with Zenith, they’re more likely to warm up.
Though much like Springstar, it may just be more interesting to explore the city with a fellow Shard-Bearer. And as a resident may warn you, it’s best to stay in the city. Wandering out into the marshes and forests isn’t advised. Of course, if you do, just contact a Loremaster to find out why. ♥
Because of the cooler weather than Highstorm is prone to, you’ll find many of its delights inside rather than outside. Libraries and museums are popular in the more introspective city, though it’s easy enough to find something that might please you. For example, the indoor hot baths are popular at this time of the year too. You’ll find the people are kind, if cool-tempered, though if you mention the fact that you’re a Shard-Bearer or allied with Zenith, they’re more likely to warm up.
Though much like Springstar, it may just be more interesting to explore the city with a fellow Shard-Bearer. And as a resident may warn you, it’s best to stay in the city. Wandering out into the marshes and forests isn’t advised. Of course, if you do, just contact a Loremaster to find out why. ♥
NOTES
no subject
She knew. She knew if he had not been there that she would have given in to the despair she knew far better than hope, and she would have turned her head to the familiar comfort of the dark, whether it disgraced the faith Matsukaze had placed in her or not. Alone, she wouldn't have been able to be... strong. And she had to live with that shame.
The second time they'd met, he'd been the one asking for her help. She'd been so foolishly glad, because that- That had been her chance. She could not only repay her debt to him, but she could do something "good". With someone who had already seen glimpses of her life and memory, she had even managed to speak of things like... like brothers, and faith, that she rarely felt able with those she judged as ignorant of her culture and life.
But that had ended with Liem's throat slit open on the dagger of a demon called M she had sworn to kill, with her fleeing like a coward with their charges in her arms, unable to feel pride or joy even when the woman later wept and clutched her infant to her chest, thanking them for their lives.
She had mourned him, in her way. One of the only people she had almost let know things about her willingly, not just the accidental spill of starry chaos. ... Even if it had been unwilling, and shameful... Someone who had seen the parts of her that she didn't show to anyone. Whether she'd been mourning the actual man, or just what she'd hoped he would be to her...
That, she didn't let herself thing on.
Instead... she finishes arranging herself, readied for what she needs to do, but. Holding off a moment. It doesn't surprise her, that he says he was tortured. She knew it would come about, if he survived that. Whether physical or mental, she did not guess, but. Her lips thin, her one remaining eye drops. The Regent... Even though she had not been among his servants, his power had been so frightening that even she could not believe he was gone, just like that. And more than that-]
... Another Kenoma said to me... "None of that matters anymore".
[Maybe she had meant it a different way, that their allegiances in that other world had no bearing on how they should interact in this one, but. Hayame could only take it as she heard it. If those allegiances didn't matter... then what they had gone through for the sake of them didn't matter. How strangely difficult it had been for her to shear through the necks and vertebrae of the guards whose heads she had claimed, Liem's blood spurting onto the cobblestones, the injuries she had seen on the other Pleroma, her gods damned eye-
Did it really not matter anymore? She meant to say more, but...
Again. How pathetic that she is in front of him just hoping he will say something that ends up guiding her.]
no subject
But the urge lingers just at the back of his mind, not quite surfacing into his conscious awareness. His attention is still occupied with Hayame for the moment, and that precludes any focus on subtle background things such as that.
Someone told her that it didn’t matter anymore? He wonders if that’s really what they had said, really what they had meant. It seems a dismissive sentiment even for those of his former sect, but regardless of who it was or how the words were meant, it’s clear enough how Hayame took them.]
And? Do you agree?
no subject
[That she can say immediately. No. She couldn't think of any interpretation of that phrase that she could agree with. Letting go of her grudges? Just forgetting what she'd been through and done? Forgiveness without proper request? Her fingers tighten over the bony curve of her dun knees, still shocked he is alive, that she is alive to see him, that they're in another accursed foreign world-]
It has to- It all has to matter. Even if we are here now, somehow-
[It that sort of thing, if what they'd gone through, or what sides they'd chosen, or who they'd served, or what they'd done... How could none of it matter? Just because they'd changed locations surely did not mean that slates were just wiped clean. Even if she would benefit from that herself...
No. It had to matter, and if it did... Shame suffusing her body language in the wake of her selfish relief to see him once more, Hayame forces her palms from her own coat to the earth, her long spine curving until her upper body dips and bows, so low that her forehead nearly brushes the dirt.]
I broke a vow to you, and I must ask for your forgiveness.
no subject
But she doesn’t simply leave off there, after giving him her answer. As he watches her bow her head toward the ground, the pensive frown on his face deepens.]
I think you’re right—that our actions still have weight even after we’ve left the places where they happened behind. We carry them with us.
But what vow have you broken to me, that you need to seek forgiveness for?
[Although she had said she would free him from the Kenoma’s grip, and she had not managed to do that herself, she had never sworn to keep him from harm. And she had done as he asked; she had helped him save the woman, who he knew from later investigations hadn’t been captured by Achamoth’s forces.
So then… what?]
no subject
You’re wrong.. She had heard that far, far more, and though a more understanding or wise woman might acknowledge there were considerable cultural differences between herself and most all of the other aions… perhaps be able to accept them and not find only offense or alienation in those reactions…
A part of her still feels so pathetically happy that someone thought she was right about something. … Even though, as she announces her failure to the dirt between her forelegs.]
In Venera, you gave to me as hostage the book of your god.
[The Order of Numbers. She has remembered the title, though she could not read the cover or pages.]
I swore that I would keep it safe in my possession until I could return it to you once purified and safe in Greentruth…
[A book that had been with me for longer than she’d drawn breath, he’d said. The only blessing he had been granted in this place, but not only that something he would lose both eyes before seeing any harm come to it. And even though she had thought him surely dead after his capture… She’d clung to it still, pathetic or not.]
I swear that I did so, in Horos, but-
[She is too proud not to say that, to try and insist that if they had not been ripped again anew to a different place naked and disoriented that she would have kept her vow, but-]
In whatever journey we made fo this place… it was lost.
[Hayame grits her teeth. Genuine apologies did not come easy to her, no matter how warranted, but…]
… I am sorry.
no subject
[Abadar’s book. Liem had thought of it often during his time in isolation deep within the Citadel, and once he’d finally been released to have free run of Achamoth. It had been his habit, back home, to read it during quiet moments, and it had taken barely any time at all for him to fall back into that habit in Horos, after his book had returned to him. And, just as getting used to having it had been as easy as breathing, learning not to reach for it had been dispiritingly hard.
But since his arrival here, he hadn’t imagined it in Hayame’s keeping when he’d thought of it. Instead, he’d imagined his book was finally lost for good; unmade along with everything else in Horos, other than its most tenacious souls.]
I forgive you, Hayame.
[His expression takes on a melancholy cast as he looks down at the jinba bowing before him, surrounded by the riot of thickly-growing blossoms. Even in the moments he’d dared to consider what it might be like for him to encounter Hayame in this shattered world along with the others, he’d never imagined she’d be apologizing to him like this.]
Even if you had returned it to me… I doubt I could have kept it with me any better than you, when we were brought here. You kept your word until then, and that is enough.
no subject
He grants her forgiveness. With her forehead nearly pressed to the dirt in supplication, the only thing she can judge is the amount of time it takes him to grant it and the tone of his voice. Though there is a pause, and his voice is somewhat sad, somewhat resigned… He absolves her.
But Hayame does not raise her head.
Long strands of ink black hair slowly, slowly slip down her bent back and stiff shoulders, some falling limply to the purple blossom covered ground. Her fingers curl, spasm, dig slightly into the earth as she struggles to articulate her feelings, her fears, and fails. She had dreamed of forgiveness so many times, in weak and shameful moments. The first time she had visited Verena, she had sworn that Yubari forgave her before the vision faded and it was a Kenoma before her instead. The second time, Matsukaze had come to her in the streets, he had forgiven her too… only for the guise to fall away and reveal the demon beneath who delighted in her anguish.
So how is she supposed to-
Liem had surely died. She’d told herself that so confidently, and now… Her voice cracks, her one remaining eye grows blurry.]
Are you even real… ?
[Was he something from the faint whisper on the wind and in the flower fields given form? Was he just her guilt come to haunt her? Another illusion designed to humiliate her?
It could be anything, and so how-
How could she let herself be forgiven yet?]
no subject
He takes a cautious step forward, then another, wading through the flowers to stop with the toes of his shoes just shy of her bent head.]
Hayame. Get up.
[His tone is firm, steady.]
Look at me. I’m not going to have an entire conversation with you while you stare at the dirt.
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She hears him move, the soft sound of his steps in the dirt, the rustle of the purple blooms... and then his shoes are there, the tips visible just below the fall of her dark bangs. He'd looked real, like she remembered from that desperate Veneran night, just without the blood. He sounded real. But... So had everyone else.
So what is she to trust? She has no magic to confirm for herself, she just-
Raises her head. Now her left eyelids protect nothing, but she still tries to keep them closed. Doing so doesn't take back the slight stains of serum and salty tears on the makeshift bandage over the left side of her face, though, nor does it fill in the eerie indent in the profile of her face where an eye once was. She'd had two, when they last met.
He comes into focus... But what can she say? What can he say, to convince her that he is not just another figment of her desperate, lonely imagination?]
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Not that he had ever seen Juliana wear such a lost expression on hers.]
What happened after I saw you last?
[He kneels carefully down in the field of blooms, clasping his hands in his lap as he searches Hayame’s face. Already he can feel the ground’s chill seeping up through his pants, but he’d rather be at eye level while he speaks with her than stare down at her while she lies in the dirt.]
Your eye wasn’t like that then.
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He asks what happened to her, instead. She should push, demand or beg him to just claim to be one or the other, real or imagined, but...
No one... No one really asked her what happened to her. Not like that, not in a way that wasn't tinged with the more barbed insinuation of intending to draw attention to her new weakness or to be vengefully cruel about what rights she now had to act as she did. She hadn't let them, she supposed, or they hadn't cared because she hasn't managed to allow anyone to. Not anyone here.
But he asks.]
... I went to Achamoth.
[She is surprised she answers. Ashamed that she does, that she's really that desperate for companionship that isn't needling or sarcastic or tinged with distaste.]
I don't... I don't remember why.
[There's something missing, something that had been in the shallow crack of her obsidian shard. She finally pulls a hand from the dirt to press absently into her sternum below where it sat, her brows furrowing above an eye and a hole.]
But I fought. [So many times. So many people.] There was a demon... with the Kenoma, one I'd never seen before.
[Her throat is visibly tight, a swallow she can't quite complete bobbing up and down her throat.]
He took it.
[Didn't "cut it out", she didn't "lose it" to an injury... He took it. And left her alive, like a woman not even worth killing, forced instead to bear the proof of her loss and her shame for all to see.
She'd cried out, then, to the sky, for him to come back and finish her. But he hadn't. No one had.]
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But he doesn’t press about that just now, concerning though it is. His eyes swing slowly back up to her eye, still missing even after her rebirth here, in another world. A frown settles over his expression.]
I don’t remember anyone mentioning that, when I was released.
[Even if she had journeyed to Achamoth when he was still in confinement, he would have thought someone would have mentioned it. Most of his then-sect-mates seemed to have no familiarity with her at all. But he remembers there was a new demon present after he emerged from the Citadel’s dungeons—one who is now here in Horos, even. He can’t think of any others aside from the two who captured him in Venera.]
But there was another demon. Was he tall? Dark-haired and yellow-eyed?
cw: eye stuff, meat stuff
She never wanted to.
But he describes someone, then. It's just three simple adjectives: tall, dark of hair, yellow-eyed. But it's enough for her head to snap back up to attention, an instinctive sneer to cover her fear of that man warping her expression. Yellow eyes were not common, she knew of no other Kenoma with them. "M" and "J", those were demons she had known beforehand-- as had Liem. But this one-]
Yes.
[Her fingers clutch tighter, white-knuckled, in her shirt, a memory coming unbidden to the front of her mind that makes her want to vomit. His fingers in her eye socket, the sick, deep feeling of her optic nerve being pulled until it snapped. The taste of his hot blood and flesh in her mouth when she ripped out his throat. She can't throw up anything, there's nothing in her first stomach anymore, and the contents of the second won't come up even if she needs them to, but-]
That demon... He is here, in this world, too.
[But he didn't have her eye, not anymore than she had Liem's sacred text. If he'd even kept it, like some sick trophy on a shelf-]
Acting like- Like the others, like none of it matters at all--
[What had he said to her, in the roots of that tree before every instinct for self-preservation she had led her to slam her entire weight and force of fury into him before he could do the same to her?
Ah. That they should let bygones be bygones…]
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Perhaps the others that Hayame met have no wish to continue past conflicts either, now that they're in another world. Even Sebastian may wish to return to his civil guise. Such wishes would be poor comfort to an archer still lacking her second eye, not to mention the bow she'd used back in Horos.]
I've seen him.
[Even considering Sebastian's cultured mien, he very much doubts that the demon has any remorse for taking Hayame's eye. Perhaps isolated acts like that are an amusing game to him.]
But being uprooted in this way is normal for his kind. If you're still grappling with the things you lived through in Horos, that's normal.
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[Instinctively, Hayame tries to deny that she is... grappling, something that sounds like a polite way to phrase struggling, to denote weakness. But she's on her belly in a field of flowers, forgiven but not feeling absolved by herself, dirt between her fingers.]
How do they suffer a demon such as that-
[Her hands have nothing to hold anymore. She has no blade, but more importantly, no bow. No arrows. No quiver. No... no nothing. Hayame had never owned a single thing in her life. The few articles of clothing she'd worn had been given to her by a master's hands, and the weapons she'd been furnished with were the same. In Horos, for the first time, she had- Those things had been hers, for all that place had tormented her. And she'd even had a book, the sort of things scholars and learned men had, not jinba born in a breeding stable who could only be battle fodder, mounts, broodmares, or warriors in servitude.
Sometimes, she'd taken it out and flipped through the pages, even though she couldn't read a word. She let her eyes travel over shapes that must become words to those who were educated, moved her fingers over the paper, and- And then she'd shut it, and put it back in her satchel, because warriors had no use for playing pretend like a foolish filly.
And now she's been... uprooted. Again. She has nothing. Again. And that demon was just fine, flourishing and smiling and making jokes and not dying when she killed him-
He'd asked her to raise her head, but she can't... She doesn't want him to see how much she hates that demon for what he'd done to her, what he'd made of her. She doesn't want him to see how close she feels to total despair. A hand moves to her face, half covering it. She tries to pass it off as an ache, reacting to the pain throbbing deep in her skull beneath the makeshift bandage on her face, but-]
... Where will you go?
[They don't stand at a crossroads in the stars, with one path light and warm and the other cold and dark. It's not "simple" any longer.]
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Forward, [he says.] Or maybe in circles, for now. I'm still unfamiliar with the territory.
[He's aware that this likely doesn't answer the question she'd been asking, but he can't rightly tell her his destination when he doesn't know it himself. Should he continue on as he had been in Horos, dreaming of a new world while mourning the one he'd left behind? He'd believed that it was kinder to let the dead rest, but what if that was just the weight of his despair speaking to him? He could chase the Meridian's promise and seek the resurrection of his native Creation, but who was he to make such a decision for an entire existence? In even the most conservative estimate, there were still countless souls there for whom a return to reality would be unmitigated anguish.]
Did you visit the Tree? I met the Meridian's leader there, and he showed me something I'm still mulling over.
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She wants to fall to the ground that she had been born to, to smear her sweat-stained face into the grasses that smelled familiar. She wants to go home, even she only gets a single day of living in it before she dies. At least- At least then those children would be alive... and maybe they'd be free. Kohibari and Koume would raise them, they'd be-
Maybe they'd be nothing like her, desperate and broken and holding onto grudges and honor so that she'd be holding something.
But then he mentions the Tree, that man (Cyrus, he'd said his name was), and Hayame finally does raise her head again, her hand falling away from her face, the pressure of her palm having caved the stained bandaging in to make the empty socket all the more obvious.]
The... [Ich... Ith...] The bead?
[She'd seen him giving such things to others, too, as she'd stared at the one in her own hand... one she still kept tucked away in her scant clothing. Kept safe.]
Did you see it?
[Her fingers in the earth dig in tighter.]
Did you see your world... ?
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Finally he says something that seems to reach her. He thinks of the strange little bead, tucked in a drawer of his temporary room along with the memory of Cyrus's offer to him.]
I did. Only for a few moments, but I saw it.
[It was the first glimpse he'd had of his home since he'd been ripped away from it months ago—and yet, it seemed as though barely any time at all had passed there. He supposed it was possible that what Yima said was true; perhaps time flowed strangely between this world and others. He has no reason to doubt that doom does hover on the horizon for his world, and for the others, but although it may just be the weakness of sentiment in him, he finds himself shrinking from the idea of condemning Creation to its end knowing that somewhere out there, it might not have been destroyed quite yet.]
It was still there… in the bead, at least. Some memory of it, maybe. But not my memory.
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She had been afraid to believe or to hope. She has seen so much that was called "magic" since she had been reborn in Horos, so much still since she'd been reborn again in Kenos. And coming as she did from a world without it, despite most people's assumptions of a world that included jinba... It leaves her at such a disadvantage. She has no eye or brain for what magic is capable or not, what she should assume is possible with it or isn't...]
I saw mine... beyond- The last day I remember... but beyond what my own eyes saw, not just things stolen from my mind...
[She'd been sure that's what it had to be, at first. What else could it be, surely it would just be a trick made with memories stolen from her head... But it hadn't been that. It had showed her other things, too, things she had no idea of knowing. What her brother had been doing and where he was. The stablemaster. Every single orphan in the village. She didn't know what they'd been doing, but the bead had known... Did that mean it was real? That she was actually seeing her world like a crow from the sky, spying from a world so far away?]
You... You know magic, don't you?
[He'd used it, in that fight in the alleys of Venera. He'd been one place and then another. He'd whispered words that made things happen. So he must know better than her...]
Could it be real...?
[Could it be proof that their worlds existed still, somewhere far beyond where they had ended up? She's so desperate to know that she barely even notices the plants springing up around them, her remaining eye glued to the priest's face.]
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And they were all, according to Yima, doomed regardless.
Slowly, not wanting to offer hope he doesn't feel, he finds the words to answer Hayame's question. His eyes remain steadfastly on her face.]
There were those in my world who could use magic to see things or people from great distances, or to learn things about the past, or even the future. It wasn't something I was taught, but such a thing could be done.
Across worlds, though… I don't know. The magic would need to be very powerful, I think. Creating false images from existing memories might be just as possible—I don't know enough about sophisticated magics to say.
🎁
Hayame listens, and she tries to follow as well she can despite her utter ignorance of magics and how they worked. Such things were always the realm of children’s imaginations and men deep in their cups, to her, she had never wasted time imagining how magic might work if it was real. It just hadn’t been.
But there were stories of course, of blind women who could speak to the dead, of prophets… To harness that into something so small? Something that could show her so many things, a world mistakenly halted and repeating the same fateful day over and over and over as if it might continue to do so until whatever piece had been removed from its gears was returned?
And in the end, he says he does not know. Of course. She could never be so lucky as that. But in the absence of sureity…]
What will you do… ?
[Again, they are presented two choices, and this time-]
Where will you go?
🥳
Guidance from the divine was never a guarantee, though. Even in his own country, the judgement he's relied on has by necessity almost always been his own.]
I'm going to pray.
[For the ritual of it, mostly. For the chance to lay his questions nakedly out, to take stock of his knowledge and his options, to better understand his own duties and motives.]
And then, I'm going to find a guiding star. And I'm going to start walking.