[ PERMANENT. ] a (k)atch-all log for kenos

[dawnlord]

WHO: Set ( redsoil ), Bondrewd ( dawnlord ), Drizzt ( twohand ), et. al
WHAT: i actually can't stand month-by-month logs so i'm gonna crush my boys into one perma-log for anything outside of events
WHERE & WHEN: Listed in comment headers, or under the cut.
WARNINGS: General warnings for violence, vulgarity and unethical science. Will update/comment with warnings!


I struggle so hard w/ month-by-month logs, so y'all have to deal with my weird organization...

— [MARCH | SET] GOT NO SHAME, GOT NO PRIDE

Comments

[redsoil]

The Below itself may not become an issue, but I have no doubt Kowloon will. Few of our Shardbearers have ever bothered to plunge into its depths, despite my warnings that a highly trusted member of Zenith lives and works there. [ SILCO.

And see, Set could have been doing something to keep Silco in check all this time — but, why should it be his responsibility? He benefits from the arrangement between himself and the Zenite doing goodness-knows what with the city living below Springstar. If anything, Set wants Meridian to get control of the machine before he does — because Set has every belief that the combination of Silco and Sebastian will, like, blow it up and cave in half the city. It's what he would do. Perhaps it is why his head tilts curiously, dark pupils thinning into catlike slits,

when Liem's voice carries words that are deeply similar to the unspoken thoughts that Set harbors. ]

Even if Kowloon falls to Zenite influence, having a foothold as close to Highstorm as we can may be enough to keep them in check. I do not mind aiming weapons at their throats, even if they will simper and cajole about only doing what they must in response to is. In fact, I hope they move on the Below. As I told Jonathan Sims — they have plenty of rope to hang themselves with, and I will enjoy ripping their credibility to shreds in the eyes of their more moderate members. They are the ones we must continue to curry favor with. They will keep the fanatics in check.

[ Arguably, it's how Zenith could maintain the same over Meridian. ]

Destabilizing Zenith is now our most important task, in my opinion. A hard task, when its Lady seems to exist outside of linear time, and likely knows the strongest moves she could make well in advance.

[ Deeper still, they travel. Into the depths of the Beyond, with the lake eventually coming to reside at their backs — the furthest they have traveled, or seen. Set pauses to place his fingers to another lush, aged tree and speak with it about activity in the area, about the great structure they are looking for. At least, he knows, they can confirm they are walking in the right direction. He also murmurs to questions about any creatures that have passed by recently, to ensure that he and Liem do not run afoul of an ambush ( or another nest ). ]

[sterngaze]

[Set’s mention of the Zenite working in Kowloon (Silco, he assumes he means. It’s obviously Silco) brings a slight frown to Liem’s face. He is among those in Meridian who do sometimes venture down to Kowloon, but even he isn’t especially active in exploring the maze-like city that lurks deep below Springstar. His work in Alenroux has been keeping him busy, and while he still makes semi-regular visits Below for small reasons here and there, he doesn’t have an excess of attention to spend worming his way deeper into its depths.

Navigating the Beyond, however, is well within his capabilities. From the lake, and the site of the camp he’d made with Childe and Sooyoung, Liem is able to provide some guidance as they seek the temple from Set’s vision. His own vision when he’d last camped here still lingers in the back of his mind, whispering to him as they make their way through the woods: turn north-east at this ridge; follow this stream; cross this ravine and climb the slope on the other side. The memory shadows him, almost as if he’d come this way before. Though of course, this is the first time his feet have trod this far into the Beyond at all.]

She is the most salient target, certainly— but also the most challenging. I do not doubt that she must have secrets aplenty, including those that would unsettle even her own people were they to be unmasked, but they are surely buried deep.

[It truly is frustrating that Lady Yima doesn’t seem susceptible to the same kinds of threats that Cyrus is. How does one attack the credibility of a peerless, probably-immortal being who purports to have founded not only Highstorm, but probably all of Kenos?]

But yes, Zenith is certainly not short on unscrupulous members, who might attract the ire of others if someone were to shine a light on their activities.

[redsoil]

While Meridian might never be unified, I would not say that every member of Zenith is capable of putting aside their personal feelings simply to attain a common goal, either. After all, they are unique in their reasons for choosing their faction and some have incompatible visions of what they want their world to look like.

It is an impossibility to fulfill everyone's dream. Some of them will either have to perish, for the sake of others. Some of them will find their dreams unimportant to others. For a people focused on the future, they do not seem to think about what it will ask of them.

[ Or, he thinks, with his inhuman mind — everyone can have their dream in a new world, if they live in a world where they are forever dreaming under the control of a singular leader. The Lady might not be lying, but she is certainly bending her truths, too. After all, he knows she misses her children, and she is very, very patient. ]

She does not have moving pieces as Springstar does. There is no Church in Highstorm, there are no competing factors who seek to usurp her and take control — so, to assail her is the only thing to do. Which is why we will begin to take the Beyond, I think. To uncover what she hides in is depths and prepare wisdom to use as a weapon.

[ His favorite!

Still holding onto Liem's hand, he seems alight with joy. A man possessed by the simple happiness of having someone to chat about these things with; certainly, he has spoken to Akua about doing terrible things in the future, but to have Liem now? It feels even better, to think that maybe, he is not so alone in Kenos as to have to tackle every avenue himself. To watch over every potential path being built by scores of Shardbearers, over time.

From the lake, they are able to re-enter the forest, following the path Liem had witnessed. Less than a day it will take them to reach the temple, it seems, at their pace. ]

This area looks familiar to me, now. The vision I saw the temple in — a burnt Shardbearer, Meridian, looked to the north. If I were to take to one of the trees, I would bet we could see it from here. Would you like to join me, or shall we save the reveal for later?

[sterngaze]

[Set’s reasoning is sound; if Yima herself is unassailable at present, the more effective course would be for them to sink their claws into those things in her domain that are more easily accessible. Areas like the Beyond, which serves little active purpose to the Zenites and is not well-monitored — but which could perhaps enable Meridian to extend its own reach into Highstorm itself.

Likewise, if those in Meridian are ever to effectively weaken the unity of their opposing faction, there is no easier target than that presented by Zenith's members themselves. Yima claims that her followers will all have a hand in creating the new world that they will live in — but is that truly acceptable, when peace-loving humans must create their world alongside monsters and killers? Even when Liem had been swayed to Zenith, for those few long weeks, he had believed in the back of his mind that he would need to cull some of his own brethren before the final hour, for the sake of that peaceful new world. He wonders how many of Zenith's current members might share that sentiment.]

If we can use the Matron's people and the Matron's land against her, then so much the better.

[They will use what they can, to chip away at the foundations supporting Yima's grand scheme, and plot their own destiny instead. Such was the burden and gift that Aroden had granted his world when he had died, leaving Golarion without its god of Destiny, all those years ago when Liem had been only a child. In this crumbling world between worlds, Liem feels confident that their fates must be every bit as unmoored.

His attention turns to the trees around them: immense things, untouched by saw or axe for untold generations. They would need to find one taller than the rest to see any real distance away, but he concedes that it would be nice to have a better idea of how much distance they still need to cover.]

We can look now, [he agrees. Glancing around at the surrounding trees, Liem uses his free hand to point at a particularly gigantic specimen at the top of a nearby slope.] Perhaps that one?

[redsoil]

[ He wants to sink his claws into the Beyond, as he has since the first day he was invited to lead the small gathering of scholars into the depths of it to locate an elusive, rare herb. That had been the day he had uncovered his shrine, had been the day he had felt it drawing him in — comforting and seeking connection. His caring for it had given him the tether to the true power of creation.

A new spell: with it, a nose for the weather and the ability to grow small things. A desert god bearing a domain that ought to be anathema to him, but was from then on in his reach. The Beyond might as well be his, he thinks arrogantly. Knowing what he could do with creation, why not begin to kill the land and create a desert to reflect the power of the sun upon Highstorm? ]

I agree. Crippling Highstorm's Shardbearers by separating fact from whatever fiction they have been fed by her will be one such way to further sow animosity among them. They are likely not to convert to Meridian — but, for as long as hope's bearers touch their hearts still... we cannot lose them too far into it.

[ He looks back to Liem, then. A drawn and severe gleam in his brow, however softened the lines of his expression become in that moment. Thinking, mindfully, of his friend's own potential to descend into Zenith and embody it. That Meridian had lost him for a time, but that Set had not deemed "Liem Talbott", or his heart, lost to him. ]

That was my rallying cry after the Oracle, at least. Hope may not be what they desire, but as people like them — Meridian can still reach them.

[ As Liem's eye is drawn to the trees around them, he follows his gaze to the tall one atop the slope. A grin settling upon his face as he turns into the priest, reaching his hands down to gather the back of Liem's thighs into his palms. To heft his weight, and all that of his equipment, up and into his arms. Without reservation, nor warning, only the pure savage delight of someone who lives for the moment, the disturbance he can cause.

He hops, bounces once, and drives his heels into the earth before leaping into the air on a trajectory towards one of the broad branches of the tree Liem had point out. Alighting upon it, with an animal cry of delight. ]

— ah! Like that! Gaze out, see in the distance that which we seek!

[sterngaze]

[The unfortunate thing about Liem paying attention to what his companion is saying is that, while he is busy looking for a lookout point and listening like a good, attentive conversational partner, Set is in a perfect position to do something that Liem will hate. The hands sliding around the backs of his thighs take him by surprise; he snaps his gaze back to Set with a small, startled noise, grabbing reflexively at him for balance as the other man hefts him up.]

Set—?!

[There is not much on Set to grab; Liem’s steadying hold on his bare shoulders becomes a koala-like death grip as the god leaps straight up to the branches of the tree that he’d pointed out to him. He has become one big coil of tension, gloved hands digging claw-like into the muscle of Set’s back. The whole maneuver is over so suddenly that, he thinks, his stomach is still somewhere down on the forest floor where they’d been standing. It takes him a breathless moment to even recover the ability to speak.]

— Not like that!

[You animal, he doesn’t quite say — but the huff in his breath and the flush high in his cheeks might suggest it. How is he meant to focus on the view when he’s being hoisted up above the treeline without so much as a warning?

He does glance out, after all, but definitely not with any amount of patience.]

[redsoil]

[ Whee!!!!!! ]

You liked being manhandled before!

[ Thank goodness they're in the middle of nowhere, and Set can so boldly say such things. He'd say them in the middle of the city, too, but at least out in the Beyond, Liem will not have to suffer the mortification of someone overhearing it. Like his nosy neighbors, for example. Who knows if they've yet written him off as a lost cause, given the number of times Set has invaded his home via the front door ( and now, periodically through the cracks and seams of a window ).

He perches on the broad width of a branch, all pirouette and graceful limb, holding Liem without a hint of strain in his arms. A great predator animal resting at height, balanced high enough up that they can peer out across the tops of trees — the majority, at least, for the Beyond is dense and rife with oddities that will endanger them without fail — to seek any sight of the temple in the distance. And in the distance, there is something. The sign of something among the trees, dark and eclipsing even the natural shadow; it has sharper angles than the natural, organic spread of the native foliage, and Set's eyes pick it out after a moment of carding back and forth across the northern horizon. ]

— I can see it. It looks much like the one you saw in your vision, Liem. Can you confirm? The pillars, the overgrowth?

[ He seems to grow antsy, as he speaks. Arm tightening around Liem as he points in the direction of the small temple awaiting their arrival. ]

[sterngaze]

[Set’s joyful pirouette does nothing to settle Liem’s nerves as they perch in the upper branches of the tree, looking out over the forest canopy in search of their destination. Liem continues quite steadfastly to grip his arms tight around the other man’s shoulders, wishing for solidity and trying very hard not to imagine Set melting out from under him with a little “heh heh.” He does not think that Set would prank him in that way… and yet, with a creature of chaos such as him, he cannot be entirely confident.

If there is any silver lining at all to his nervous preoccupation with the drop between them and solid ground, it is that he cannot spare the energy for more than a small, indignant huff at the freedom with which Set mentions his personal proclivities. Perhaps he does like being manhandled — when he is comfortably indoors, instead of several metres up a tall tree. It takes him a few moments to reply, perhaps in order to master his irritation at the being who is still in charge of holding him up while they maintain their perch.]

The structure looks correct, and the growth overtaking it.

[Perhaps the greenery (purplery?) is even a bit thicker now, given that it was some weeks earlier in the season when he “visited” the place in his vision. Even so, the shape beneath seems correct, at least at this far distance.]

We will know with more certainty when we arrive. The interior was distinctive.

holds liem like an egg

[redsoil]

[ His hands remain locked firmly around the back of Liem's thighs, the man's weight balanced easily against Set's hip and waist as he travels the length of the branch — striding forth, as the limb narrows and creaks and begins to dip under their combined weight. As if he is being drawn, mindlessly toward the object of his obsession. While he is as likely to fade into sand and leave Liem stranded in the tree in order to bully him, he is just as likely to hold fast to him, fingers curled tight in against the material of his pants and the weight of him.

Never let it be said that Set was an easy read. Especially when he looks across the Beyond and says: ] It is an amazing place. Deadly and dark, beautiful all the same.

[ He says it quietly, his eyes wandering from the temple in the distance — out, and across the Beyond. Into the far horizon where he cannot tell if the world of Kenos continues on or dips off into the dark fall of starlight and cosmos, wondering what else is hidden there, what lives and breathes and exists in a land like this. If he can make it his. The curl of his lip bares the jut of a sharp tooth, nose lifted into the wind as if to catch the scent of anything. ]

We will proceed with caution. Who knows what may have taken up residence in or around the place. Though —

[ With a beaming smile, he bounces off the limb and into descent, adding with a bold cry: ] I am sure together, we will handle it all!

[sterngaze]

[Despite Set’s confident unconcern, Liem cannot help but grit his teeth as the god strides along the branch toward their destination, making the limb dip and creak as it gradually thins beneath them. Only his rather unique physiology prevents his heart from hammering wildly against his ribs while they maintain their precarious perch. His lungs still feel suddenly tight, his breaths gone quick and shallow. Though his expression remains steadfastly impassive, his grip on the other man does not become any less bruising.

The view is gorgeous, of course. Unfortunately, his wire-taut nerves continue to demand most of his attention.]

I’ve never been anywhere like it, [he concedes carefully. Taldor’s forests were quite unlike this dark and magical place, so rife with mystery and danger. Even the Verduran Forest, which dominated much of the country’s north and was home to all kinds of magical fey and monstrous creatures, was not so strange and lovely and wild as the Beyond.

The descent back to the ground is worse than the way up. A strangled noise forces its way past Liem’s teeth as they drop, and the landing shudders through every single one of his nerves; somehow, even his trip over Alenroux on Quetz’s flying lizard had been less harrowing than this. If any hint of colour had tinted Liem’s face when Set first seized him, it has fled entirely, leaving him looking perhaps even more pale and grey than usual.]

You can release me now, [he mutters, forcing his own muscles to unclench so he can peel himself off of the other man. Now that he’s been shot full of adrenaline, he wants his feet on the ground so he can burn off his jitters. Thanks to their little jaunt up the tree, he feels like he could probably run the entire rest of the way to their destination.]

[redsoil]

[ As Liem's grasp tightens upon him, it strikes Set finally — belatedly — that oh, maybe Liem does not like heights? He seems as taunt as a harpstring about to snap, the way that his muscles bunch and breathing grows tense a sign of stress. And Set, idiot that he is, comes to the realization once they're on the ground. A faint oh, escaping him as the priest peels off of him and jitters his way across the ground afterwards. ( What an idiot, to see it only afterwards. And still, he cannot help but feel a little satisfied with what he has wrought — Liem, stumbling and nervous, invokes a sort of pleasure in his belly that is not easily sated. )

Thankfully, he does let go of the other man. The grasp upon him a possessive, sturdy thing that had brokered no illusions that if Liem were to fall, it would not be because Set's hold on him was unsteady, but because he'd let go purposefully. Now, he trots forward a few paces, and then peers back. Readied and focused on the final push to their goal. ]

It feels right to me, this place. Quetzalcoatl said much the same, when we spoke — with the shrine I took over in the south means that Kenos must have had gods at one point. The temple is proof of that. So, if Kenos had gods — where did they go, if they were native? Or were they Shardbearers like us, perhaps? Yima could be one, for that matter. Or just a woman who has transcended her own mortality, through the power of Zenith.

[ And by the brief quaver in his tone, he seems to have a sort of dread? awe? belief? that it is the former, rather than the latter. ]

Regardless, whatever it is she wants me to see — it is before us, now. Are you ready, Liem? I am sure we will have some answers, and even more questions. I find it exciting.

[ He does wait for his wobbly companion, wanting to share in the moment that they break through the treeline and behold the structure waiting before them, with its dark columns and style emblematic of what he has beheld both in Springstar's architecture, and his readings of the Greco-Roman culture of Earth. Things he had studied, because he had been curious about the Heliopolis connection... and because someone with knowledge had practically pointed him in that direction ( SEBASTIAN!!!! ). ]

[sterngaze]

[Liem takes only a few jittery steps and a few deep, steadying breaths to banish the worst of his nerves now that he is once again on solid ground. For all that he did not appreciate their sudden jaunt up into the tree’s branches, now, after the fact, he has the benefit of hindsight to see that nothing terrible happened and the whole experience went about as well as it could have, even if he’d felt like dying for most of it. A few more experiences like that, and maybe he’ll even learn to enjoy being up high? He’s not counting on it, though, and definitely not volunteering.]

I suppose the structures could also hail from before this island arrived in Kenos. They are plainly old.

[Might they not simply be temples to gods of another world? The Scorching Isles had their own history, and had hailed from a larger world before it was fractured and a piece ended up in Kenos. He knows Springstar used to be a piece of Greece, as well. Might Highstorm not be the same? He intends to keep his mind open to any possibility as they move forward.]

But if Lady Yima came here as a god, or shed her mortality and became one, and this temple hails from a time when that divinity was recognized — perhaps we will learn something new about her.

[He is no archaeologist, but the chance to walk in such an ancient and forgotten shrine sends a thrill sparking down his spine. Who knows what they will find there?]

Let us go see it.

[redsoil]

That could be, as well. The only thing I have to go with, is that the Lady told me she, too, came through the Tree. She has reminded me for a while of someone I know, but perhaps that is the veil of her mystery — the power she has, that entices us to her side by manifesting traits we would be drawn naturally to.

[ He has a lot of opinions about "Kenos", and the idea of gods, without a doubt.

Kenos, to him, is the core of all things. The gravity around which the shattered islands revolve, the integral momentum that arrests a Shardbearer's fall into the void. Liem's dream had made him consider that they are shattered things — the root idea of their existence was that of a "Shard", implying they were not whole. What, then, had happened to the other pieces of them? Were they only pieces of their souls? Were the other parts of them gallivanting around in time and space?

Were their Shards full of someone else's soul, perhaps? There are too many metaphysical questions for him to answer, but he has less discomfort about the idea of it than most might. After all, he is the summation of his self, all that began and will end, and there is only "one" of him, in his mind. No alternatives, no re-dos, no differing paths. The rest, he keeps his mind open to — eager to reveal whether he is right, wrong, or still learning. That is what entices him, and draws him forth.

Liem being eager about the temple, too, gives him great joy. He chases forth, in pursuit of the last leg of their journey, senses peeled to ensure they are not ambushed or walking directly into danger, until they finally, finally arrive at the temple and its obvious disrepair. The stone has weathered, but endured; time has left shallow fissures upon the majestic design, held together in an almost loving embrace by violet vine and gold moss. Whether the temple had arrived to Kenos, or been part of Kenos from the start, it does not matter — it has been clearly held fast by the land, accepted as part of it. ]

— do you smell that? It smells, like... it's faint, but... incense in the air. Old and long burned to ash, but — oh.

[ And with that, Set takes to the stairs, to place his hands upon one of the beautiful pillars and gaze up to the shattered height of it. Something twisting in his chest as he briefly looks back to Liem, to catch sight of him — and then, he vanishes into the dark depths, darting ahead with impatience and a driven urgency to see, embrace, and learn. ]

[sterngaze]

[The last leg of their journey to the temple seems to pass by all the faster after their glimpse of it through the tree-tops. Liem feels more sure of their path with each step they take toward it, his memories of that half-dream-half-vision overlaying the trek with a strong sense of deja vu. When they finally break through the trees and behold the weathered, overgrown structure stretching up towards the night sky, he spends a moment in silence, simply looking at it with Set, beholding the almost-familiar sight of its ancient facade.

The structure is foreign — and yet, the majestic stone construction, the style of the pillars strike a chord within him; like many buildings he’d seen in Springstar, this one hearkens back to his own home, to structures in Oppara that had been built thousands of years prior. What does it mean, that parts of his world should so distinctly resemble those of worlds he’d never heard of? Egypt, Greece, Rome… these foreign names keep appearing, linked with architecture and culture he could have sworn hailed from around the Inner Sea. It only makes his curiosity to set foot inside the temple grow stronger.

It seems impossible that any trace of scent from the temple’s rituals should remain, given how aged the structure is… but when he inhales, the faint smell Set mentions reaches his nose, just as it had in his dream. He wonders what other relics of the past might still cling to existence within, and follows the god inside, where the scent grows slightly stronger.

There is a strange feeling within, as well, like the building itself is holding its breath. It is a feeling he has long associated with holy places, sites of power and ritual, watched over by the divine.]

It’s just as I remember, [he murmurs. The ruined frescoes and mosaics… the mostly-intact relief carved into one wall. He approaches it, gazing up at the procession of figures. Now standing before them in person, he regards the figures with more clarity than he’d been able to muster before, noting the sistrum and the coiled serpents with curiosity. To him, the instrument hearkens to Osirion, and the serpent suggests wisdom and healing, but he is able to glean no further meaning from the relief.]

Is this the place you’ve been seeking?

[redsoil]

[ Within the small, but beautifully poignant structure, Set darts from corner to corner, wall to wall. His hands gliding over pillars, carvings, frescos and diligently-assembled mosaics of small motes of glass and stone, colored so vibrantly that the fading of them has been stymied by their innate properties. He traces the soft curves of the mosaics, fingers alighting over elements of them — the extensive damage, as if time and violence had been visited upon the subject and forced their image to take on such a mangled state.

And he feels, so deeply for them. THe sentiment pours off of him, raw and wounded, as he traces the scarring upon the walls and trails his hand along the shattered remains of once-beautiful evidence that some god had been here. Had been loved, admired. Morosely, he murmurs to Liem. The cool shaft of moonlight falling upon him a haunting, mourning thing: ] Yes, it is. This is the place the Lady showed me. The one in your vision. I know you described it to us, but to see it in person affirms such. The destruction here is intentional — they did as much to me, when I was cast from the Ennead and history.

[ Hoarse and faint, he follows the line of one of the surviving images. Fingers falling to the sistrum held in the hand of the figure. And his eyes dart along the wall, fingers touching each of the four remaining fresco figures in turn. His mouth moves, expression morphing into a mask of horror, wide-eyed and his mouth soundlessly working. Sistrum. The snake, the scroll of papyrus. ]

— oh. Oh, no. Please.

[ Wordless, he turns on his toes toward the pillars beyond the antechamber full of broken images and symbols, and delves into the dark of the inner chamber. There is a resonant power welling up within, a lingering thing. He abandons Liem, blindly chasing the knowledge that the other man had imparted on them, rushing deeper into the temple, in search of something more. The other thing that had been described loosely to the team he had taken forth into the unknown place — for the headless, armless statue. ]

[sterngaze]

[As Set flits around the temple’s initial chamber, running hands and eyes over the ruined and mangled works of devotion within, Liem wonders if the god will find something in his examinations to explain his mysterious feeling of familiarity with the place. Is that not why they had journeyed all the way here, through that strange and frightful wood that had fought them every step of the way?

But he is not a god, and he does not expect the melancholy that seems to afflict Set when he is confronted with this desecration of the divine. His attention is plucked away from the relief in font of him to return to the other man, observing him as he traces fingertips over the curves and lines still gracing the stone. The horror dawning over his face makes Liem’s brows snap together.]

Set? Do you know this place—?

[His words fall on deaf ears. Heedlessly, the god turns and beelines straight for the inner chamber, with Liem in close pursuit, following Set to where the enormous, decapitated statue still awaits them. And that sense of motionless, held-breath presence swells as they go deeper, making the hair on the back of Liem’s neck prickle with each hurried step he takes over the worn stone.]

[redsoil]

[ He might feel something, for running off with nary a hint as to what drives him forward, but Set is not a creature who regrets, nor feels guilt. As a divinity, he is driven by nigh-hypocritical values and urges, a need to command and serve, a desire to bestow his might upon others as one who exists above them — and someone, who seeks friendship, company. An intensely lonely individual, destined and fated for such things. Driven, in this moment, from Liem's side into the depths of the temple.

The sound of his passage is silent and swift, and he vanishes into shadow and silence.

Within the temple, rays of moonlight cast shimmering, soft-silver relief upon the walls and floor. The scent of incense grows sharper, older, sacred. Energy coalesces within, beckoning anyone around deeper, into the waiting embrace of the inner sanctum; to the belly of it all, where Set has preceded Liem by mere seconds, yet those seconds are enough for him to have reached a conclusion ( no, he cannot reach a conclusion yet, he must observe and seek — ).

There, he stands before the great statue of an unknown female figure. Without head nor arms, her identity ought to be unknowable. Ought to be lost to time, and violence, but Set's arm reaches up. Up, toward the lovingly-carved folds of cloth, and he holds the facsimile of draped gown between his fingers — looking, for a moment, like a young child clutching at the hem of an adult in wonder. ]

— Isis.

[ He sighs her name, something raw and tempestuous building within him. Though his mouth moves, the language that comes out is lyrical and ancient — some sort of prayer, perhaps? Stricken as he seems to be, his mind links to Liem's effortlessly, a boundary felled by the myriad of emotions that have begun to rise within him. Careless feelings, as dangerous and scalding as a force of nature, chaotic and dark ( adoration, homesickness, rapture, despair, wrath and love all at once ).

His mind collapses into naught but the raw vibrancy of unfettered emotion, wordless and within intellect, rolling like a stormfront as he tries to sift through a million thoughts and emotions at once. Like someone who's just been given an infinite puzzle, and cannot rest until it's solved, even without all the pieces. It's chaos, and it dives right into Liem's own mind with adoring, hungry familiarity. ]

[sterngaze]

[Liem's feet take him quickly through the familiar surrounds of the ruined temple, drawing him deeper until he is standing once again in the inner sanctum, staring at Set's back as the god touches the folds of the giant statue's gown. The air here feels heavier than in the antechamber, pregnant with a power that has lain undisturbed for centuries. It weighs on his lungs and sticks in his throat, lending the scene before him a hypnotic air.

Though the defaced statue holds no meaning for him, the significance with which it was created has not disappeared. It only lies hidden.

For a moment he lingers at the edge of the room, still caught up in witnessing Set’s revelation. Of Isis he knows barely more than a name and title. It would not have occurred to him to see her here; but for Set, her likeness must be a reflection of family, for better or for worse. And still, the reasons for the temple’s presence here in Kenos remain a mystery, to anyone except perhaps Yima.

He feels Set reach for him an instant before his tempest engulfs his mind, boundless and unrelenting. He has to force himself not to flinch at the stinging, biting wildness of him, has to resist the urge to shut his mind up tight and force him out. In the face of Set’s hungry, savage curiosity, the covetous wind of his affection, the scouring sand of his anger, the billowing dark of his loneliness, Liem is a steadily-glowing candle that resolutely refuses to go out.

He walks forward to stand beside the red-haired god, joining him before the statue of Isis, and there, he reaches for his hand.]

[redsoil]

[ The temple's presence is a mystery. That it is here is enough for now, but what it means is what throws Set into disarray — why the room shudders briefly as the rot beneath his feet begins to seek him. Time and violence and the elements have broken stone into its most raw, diminutive form, and whorls of sand eddy and drift around his feet as he holds to the figure's draped robe with his fingers. As if he can feel the texture of her gown once more, as if he can stop the myriad of emotions he feels — not entirely towards the temple that he must remain objective of, but towards the image of his sister.

It is not quite like Isis's bold fashion; her elegant shift, the bare swell of her breasts at night when she used to gallivant through the temples and palaces and gardens in pursuit of him for one or many annoyances. The way he used to perch high atop the arches and splay in tiny alcoves waiting for her to pass before doubling back on her, to wait for her to come in exhausted and irritated while he lounged in her rooms eating all her sweets. The way she looked at him in the hall, centuries after their foolish, stupid days spent together with naught but hatred in her eyes — how she had chosen not to help him, but to turn all her loathing upon him alone.

He hates her so much.

He misses her intensely.

Thrown into corners of multiple minds, because he feels so much, because he is so big and grand and demanding of them all, he pours into Liem's most immediate and most powerfully. The drop of his weight upon the other man ( lean on me, he had said ) heralds Set's yielding to that vow between them, his fingers twining through Liem's as he turns into his person and pushes his face into his hair. Set's heart thunders, erratic as someone caught between panic and rapture ought to be. He cannot think, he cannot breathe.

He catches at the dark edge of the last petal of Yima's flower within his soul, and grinds it between his fingers until her scent, her power, begins to well within him and cool the frantic spread of his thoughts and feelings. Yet, even as the darkness spreads, he holds Liem aloft like a candle, against the full press of the cold. At the foot of the broken statue, he folds his arms around Liem's shoulders tightly, and shivers as the rush of madness leaves him in place of tranquility. ]

I thought, this could have been so many things. A hint to the Lady's identity among them, but. This is Isis, Liem. My older sister, Isis. I can prove it —

[sterngaze]

[Against the storm of Set’s wrath and grief and love and rapture, Liem can only stand firm, gripping his hand as sand eddies and whirls about them both. He cannot truly grasp from whence the enormity of Set’s emotion springs, and so, he simply lets the other man clutch at him and lean his weight against him, offering the solidity of his presence and companionship against the chaos that has descended upon them both.

As the god rests against him, Liem’s other arm lifts to encircle his waist, a tentative embrace from one who is not accustomed to extending such things. But when the storm of feeling abruptly abates in the face of a surge of cool, dark tranquillity, his grip only tightens.]

This iconography is hers, then?

[Despite the relief they had seen in the antechamber, Liem would not have thought to associate this place with the Queen of Miracles. But for Set to be so certain, perhaps this temple hearkens to his own home, on his world, rather than Golarion.]

Another relic of Earth, but in Highstorm’s lands instead of Springstar’s. I wonder what it could mean…

[redsoil]

[ Liem keeps his promise, as a friend who will let Set lean upon him in a time of need. His need is obvious, right now. Without Liem, he would have no one to speak to about the madness that brews inside of him, nor anyone who he could contemplate meaning and consequence of the temple's presence. Nor, most importantly, what to do about it. How to inform Kenos of it, who to inform of it, or perhaps, what to withhold. He knows he will need to tell a few people of its contents, but the location and future of the temple are for him.

And Liem, honestly. ] Yes. I was not entirely sure, with the procession of priests upon the fresco. But, I have seen it with my own eyes. The real procession of her faithful and the objects they carried — the sistrum, which accompanied the ceremonies of her worship, the ladle with which she would scoop sacred waters. And the snake, which — she tricked Ra once, over a snake.

[ He holds Liem, holding his hand as he pours against him and tries to sort out sentiment from words. Emotion from intellect. ]

It is this, that was the deciding factor.

[ Now, he points to the statue. The identity stolen, arms and face destroyed — removed to hide who she is, or simply lost to time and decay? Set points not to the space where her face would be, but to the particular knot tied in the draping fabric, just under her breasts. The shape of it something he cannot deny as hers, for she had pioneered it and all her followers had come to love the ruffled drape of mantle and cloth. ]

It is called the tyet. I have seen her wear it for centuries, and all her records have her depicted with it. Why is it signs of my home here? Where is yours? Are there more pieces of other worlds in the Beyond, do you think?

[sterngaze]

[Being the support upon which Set leans is easier now that the bloom of Zenith energy from inside him has calmed the storm of madness his confused emotions had whipped up. Liem lets his eyes wander the statue’s ancient contours as he stands there, entwined with his companion amid the spears of moonlight, listening to him speak.

It is rare enough for Set to volunteer information about his home and his family, and Liem is ever eager to hear more about Egypt’s pantheon from the god’s own mouth. He rests against him, one side of an arch against another, following the pointing finger with a curious gaze when Set indicates the knotted cloth at the centre of the statue’s chest.]

I don’t know. Sometimes I find things in Kenos familiar, but the names that people give them are different.

[He thinks of Hayame, describing the centaur gathering in Alenroux: People who looked like her own kind, but were not, and who did not know her words or her home. That has often been his own experience, when spying things that quickened nostalgia in his chest.]

When I was in my own country, reading about the Queen of Miracles, the symbol she was associated most with was drawn thusly, though it was also described as a knot. [With one hand, he traces a shape in the air: Up, around in a loop, and down. Across in a steep curve, resulting in a symbol like an ankh with long, droopy arms.] I have found the occasional relic of my world in Highstorm’s market, but its cultures and languages are strangely absent.

I think the possibility of more shrines in these woods is worth entertaining, given the presence of those you’ve already found. Though, combing the Beyond for more would prove challenging.

[redsoil]

That must feel —

[ How would it feel? To hear something familiar, but not quite so. To be so close to something, yet so far. Honestly, he feels a little like that, standing in this temple; the imagery is that of his sister, but the architecture is not at all of Egypt. It resembles Springstar's culture more, that of the world of Helles. The Greeks. They, who would one day overtake his lands and peoples and combine their histories and faiths and culture into one overarching era. He'd read about it, at someone's not-so subtle hinting.

He folds along Liem's side, until his head can rest atop Liem's own. Forming that arch, yes. The one he had spoken of. The emotions still roil within him, but the ferality of them has been soothed, pressed flat by a thumb that worked out all creases and left naught but that kindly, empty calm with him. ] That is the same symbol, yes. When we write it, it looks just as you describe. The tyet and your symbol for her.

[ There is something companionable, to find his likeness among Liem's world. To know that their realms are not so distant at all, and that the Set that Liem has read of must be him, too. Evil, sinister, but nonetheless himself. To think that somewhere, he and Liem inhabit the same place, even if they have not met, or will never meet, is soothing. It rings of Meridian's bold vow, the audacity of those who seek to succeed in such a vast and endless task. ]

It would prove challenging, and not impossible. Worth our time, too. It could prove a good foothold for Springstar eventually, if we need to strike Highstorm. The Church might enjoy the knowledge of Springstar culture being found in lands that are not 'of Springstar'. Depending on what you and I want to do about this. From here... we would at least have another point of entrance into the Beyond.

[ A flicker of thought, before his mind smooths out into calm again. Silent contemplation, as he feels out the energy of the shrine, the urge that had brought them into the depths to behold the statue of the once-unknown figure. ]

— I am with you, on this. However we want to play it out.