THE ADVOCATE ORACLE - A RIP VAN WINKLE IN TIME

[beleos]

Sweet dreams are made of Bliss

As the twilight falls, and bearers begin to tuck in for their evenings on the night of the 15th of March (OOC time) and whether they tuck themselves into bed fully, or simply drift away in the middle of their dinner, work, indulgences, or what have you; bearers will fall into a deep, deep sleep. Perhaps you slump in your chair, or you wrap your arms around a teddy bear, or partner, or cup a precious shard in your sleep, it doesn’t matter, because as you drift away, into a sleep that seems to tug you under like the undertow itself, a question will echo in bearer’s minds: “If given the choice, would you show compassion in the face of adversity?”

It sticks with you, even as you fall into a dreamless sleep. As if it rotates in your mind, over and over, letting you worm over that. You know for certain what it is, that it is the calming, soothing voice of the Oracle, reaching out to you across the ether, telling you – promise you – that if you accept its promise, you will find that the Oracle could be in your hands. That thought leads you to dream of something else – of home, or your loved ones – of what you are fighting this war for. Even as you dream, you feel a presence next to you, and unlike the Harbinger’s winding, rough digging, this is more akin to a friend, who is asking you soft, coaxing questions. Things like: what was your childhood like? What were your friends like? What did you do? You cannot help but think of them, think of your home and your loved ones. Of where you came from, and how it made you what you are.

The advocate seeks to understand you, and where you come from. You can feel it, that overwhelming Acceptance and love from it, even as you reminisce, compelled to answer the multitude of questions, you can feel something building behind you, around you. “Don’t you want them all to understand this?” the impression is given through communion, and you cannot help but answer: yes.

Click your Heels together, Dorothy!

As you awake for the first time, it’s alien, the world that meets you. New smells fill your nostrils, new sights, the gravity is perhaps different than you’ve gotten used to on Kenos, even those slight shifts enough to make the world feel wholly different. You remember the advocate’s words, and it wants you to feel what it feels. Understanding. Compassion, and perhaps there is a sense that doing so would hurt yourself in turn, if you understood too much. That is the advocate’s way, after all, isn’t it?

You feel an inexorable, slight tug in your chest. Something subtle and gentle, the slightest of sensations, that gives you a direction. You know it, your mind only just now comprehending the advocate’s confusing impressions via communion, that there is something of this world’s… Soul/center/heart or whatever word you want to use for it. Something about this world that will help you along your path, and help you with the results you so desire. You know it will not guarantee a victory, but surely it will help. Especially as your numbers dwindle from world to world. You are left with an impression from the Advocate -- if you die, they cannot bring you back. There is apology in this, but alone, one oracle is limited. Only united, can they truly change your fate.

The lingering presence of the advocate starts to fade. You know this is a bearer’s world, if not your own. You look around, to see perhaps a familiar face nearby? Or perhaps you are alone. Does it matter? You know that this place belongs to a bearer, but whether they are a friend or an enemy, one has to begin to determine that. You’ll need your wits, you’ll need your strength and resolve to make it to the end of this, won’t you?

After all, as bearers were recently reminded: this is War. This is not simply the fate of this world, but perhaps all, as it will require you to find the answer to this question. So you start to move, you start to look around, explore, and search. For the soul of each world, for the bearers that lie dreaming within, and your foes that will seek you out. Stay steadfast, for the way out will come, if you make it to the end. The longer you spend in each world, however, the more the shadows look darker, and deeper. Hungrier. The more the spaces seem smaller or compressed. As if there is something gnawing away at the sides, making their way to the heart.

Around the world in 60 seconds 12 hours

When you find yourself at the end, when you close your eyes – only a blink, but it hangs, as if the momentary motion is enough to suspend you into a suspended space before. You can see the two options stretched out before you – metaphysically – the impression of it. A long, long shadow cast over one. As if there is a presence hovering over and above, like waiting jaws, ready to strike. In the other, there remains…nothing. It is not pleasant, it is not comforting, it simply… is. A sense that there is now a lack of anything, almost like it had never existed before.

Does this world have value? You can feel the Advocate ask. Do you want to give them a chance to live? Or does should this world cease, is there nothing here to save?

And though you are compelled, required to answer, you know this question for what it is. Short-sighted. Both, in the end, will lead to its destruction, but which will you choose? Will you allow the world to continue, even with that long shadow cast, like a hungry beast with snapping jaws; or will you erase it from existence and spare it that oncoming apocalypse?

Catch [???] Winks

The last world’s fate decided, bearers float in an endless sea of stars. You can see them all, spread before you. Intermittently, they wink out, swallowed into the darkness, consumed as the shadows, that inky-black nothingness grows ever-larger. It looks upon you, bearers. It is nothing, but you have its attention, and your blood runs cold, your limbs frozen. You cannot move, you cannot speak, you cannot breathe. You feel it, the power of being drawn into it, like it wants to consume you. Like it knows you.

T̸̢̼̯͓̬̘́̀̋̆͊h̷͔̣̱̝͍̬̣͕̄̂͗̆͒͌͜ͅẹ̶̱̩̅͒̿̇͠ ̵̭̹͇͖̔̀ṃ̸̢̧͙̟̼̜͌͆̍͝͝ͅo̴̟̞̓̆̇̐̆͊̽͆̂̀r̶͈̺̮̠͙̗͌ę̸̤̻̈́͐͂̓̊͐̂͆ ̵̡̛͎̩̳̤͔͚̱̼̆̒̓y̴̺̞̹̺̝̤͂ǫ̷̡̣̱̥͊̈́̓͑̕͘ű̵̼͜͜ ̶̨̨̝̟̘̱͇̲̻̪̊͂̽̈̒͊f̴̱̐͌̌̓̋̔́̀͝i̶͖̤͎̬̝̦͒̂g̸̳̰̟̀̓̽̈́̐h̸̼͍̮͎̊̅͗͊̈͋̽̀͘t̴͔͚́̓,̷̨̧̱̠̙̠̙̱̒̍̽̾ ̷̖̰̼̬̟͐̊̂t̶̖̄͂̅̃̍͐̊̑̅͜͝h̴̢̛͙̪̞̫̝̺̋̅̿͛̇̚͝͝ͅͅȩ̶͉̤͍̠́̈͑̏͋̚͘͝ ̸̢̨̧͚̖̤̪̬̪̀̉̐͗̂͆͑̚̕̚c̴̠̩̳͎̲̪͔̟̈́͂̉͑́l̶̡̲̻̣̘̏́ͅo̶̢̧͔͈̬̳̰͈̝̻͌̋̆̃͒͗̏͘ş̴̪̺̣̥̎̽̿͗̒́͛̕̚̚e̴̺͍̤͖͂̇͑͂̋͂̆̾r̴̨̩̈́͋͠ ̷̧͚̲̩̖̋͒̉́͗y̶̘̖̝̑̈͊ǒ̵͚̽u̵͎͍̇̀̏̊̕͝ŕ̷͎̜̘͙̀̋ ̶͇̲̝̞̖̝̣̘̝̬͋d̷͔͈͔̀̿õ̴̝̯͇̹̘̏͗͜ö̵͚͓͆m̵͉̦̫̥̦̞̫͐̆͐̿͊͒͌͋͜.̷̼͈̻̥̜̾̏͐̾̐͆͘͜

You gasp, as you startle awake, and open your eyes for the first time in a long time.

CODING

Comments

[a_noble_flame]

[His keen interest in the blade settles any of Alice's unease. By the time he hands it back his slight smile invokes a brighter one from her. She does love to talk about weapons!]

Certainly not. I don't have much experience with lances however so I couldn't speak much on the differences.

[fishfearme]

I've used lances extensively. My father specialises in them, though my preference lies in the sword.

[It's noticeable, how much he visibly perked up when he mentioned 'my father', moreso than when he was handling that strange blade. That's right, Byleth was a daddy's boy...]

He'd definitely be interested in that weapon as well... if only to have something novel to fight against.

[Though, knowing Jeralt, he had likely encountered a weapon like that before. That man certainly got around in the centuries he's been alive... he's basically seen it all...]

[a_noble_flame]

[Alice can understand. The way he perks up is much the same as when she speaks of her great-grandfather. Like right now in fact!]

My grandfather didn't exclusively use a blade like this in the field but he did enjoy speaking of weapon techniques and the like. He was the one who trained me in a majority of what I know today.

[fishfearme]

Then we have something in common. Jeralt taught me as well, though admittedly experience has been just a thorough mentor as him.

[When you grew up in a mercenary band, you learned a little bit of everything from different mercs. Probably why he was so well-rounded... but his father definitely had the biggest influence on him... and was still the one person he had never truly defeated in battle.]

We should spar sometime. I'd be interested to see your skill pitted against mine.

[a_noble_flame]

[Ah yes. When he says spar Alice can't help but look eager.]

I would enjoy that a great deal. Sparring has become a distinct pleasure of mine since arriving ... ah, well, in Kenos I mean. Not here obviously.

[Her tail flicks a few times as she shuffles her hooves.]

I'm chiefly guarding the village here for now.

[fishfearme]

Is that so? That's kind of you.

[Considering this was Hayame's world, or so he assumed, he could imagine what threats this village would need guarding from. His mood sobered a little.]

I've been doing much the same. Unofficially, that is. I've been avoiding the village so I don't unnerve the occupants. My equine half... well, it stands out compared to everyone else's.

[He gestured at Alice's own lower body, which was very normal.]

[a_noble_flame]

[Kind, he says.]

It's my duty. Those who can must do for those who cannot, yes?

[She's said that so often since arriving here. It's not kindness in her mind to do what you ought to be doing -- as a noble, as one who can fight.

At his mention of his body she glances down at him. And then to herself. Then back to him. She purses her lips some and looks at him like she can't quite figure out what he's feeling bad about.]

You look different, yes, but I hardly see how it matters. Would you like to guard the village with me?

[And that's it from her. He could be out here with horns and all sorts of other stuff and she wouldn't bat an eye at it other than for a moment.]

[fishfearme]

...if you would have me, I'd be delighted to aid you.

[Though his tone, posture and expression had become incredibly stiff when saying that, he was genuinely touched that she had extended such an offer. It was just that he was terrible at expressing himself, and when he felt strongly he just... tensed up...]

I've guarded several villages in my world, so I'll excel in this task, I promise.

[Said so matter-of-fact! One would think it pure arrogance if it weren't for his bland tone.]

[a_noble_flame]

[At least Alice doesn't seem to mind. It's not like she was the most relaxed person ever when she felt emotions. With his reply she gestures forward and trots up to meet him. She moves with spirit as a human and can't seem to shake it even when half of her is distinctly nonhuman.

Once she's come up beside the man she looks at him with interest.]

Have you? I've never played guard to villages but I certainly have to people.

[fishfearme]

[Byleth pawed the ground with his front left hoof when Alice trotted up beside him, though what the gesture meant, his unmoving expression gave nothing away. He did begin walking after a momentary pause, though, his equine legs moving with the same methodical grace as a dressage horse.]

Yes. It was a common job for mercenaries like myself when harvest time grew near. Bandits are prolific in Fodlan due to the continental war, so villages are preyed upon often when it was time for their crops to be harvested, or their livestock to be processed. Depending on the terrain and the strength of the local bandits, those jobs would either be quite arduous, or relaxed.

[And it helped that Jeralt was such a charismatic man that the villagers ended up being quite pleased with them and throwing a feast in their honour, or loading them up with bonus vegetables or dried jerky when they inevitably moved on. Admittedly, those jobs were Byleth's preferred ones, even if he lacked the charisma his father did.]

[a_noble_flame]

[He does have an impressive form, doesn't he. Alice might have a noble, high-class sort of mien to her overall but that sturdy workhorse half of her moves with steps like she's twice the size she is. She's a commanding presence if nothing else, even when she's like this.]

We've done the same in some places. The ceasefire in my world had only been in effect for three years now. There are plenty of disenfranchised soldiers and others willing to take advantage of the aftermath of the war. My unit -- State Section Three -- is a war relief unit so our chief mission is to aid such villages and people.

[Which is a very simplified way of saying what they do but ... well, Alice is a simple person as well. She turns a bright smile Byleth's way.]

Thank you for all the good you've done in your work. I'm sure others have said the same.

[fishfearme]

...sometimes.

[In truth, most people tended to be too frightened of him to tell him if he'd done a job well done, even if they were his client. His reputation as the 'Ashen Demon' preceded him, and such tales of his exploits were heavily embellished - mostly. Usually.]

In my world, I'm considered... intimidating. Most prefer to give thanks to my father instead of directly to me.

[And socially awkward Byleth had been fine with that. Too bad Jeralt tried his best to nudge him into improve his 'customer service' skills and had him try to talk to their clients himself. It rarely went well. He was too blunt, his expressions too stilted, and his reputation too ghoulish.]

So, ah, thank you for your kind words. I appreciate them.

[a_noble_flame]

[Intimidating? Alice regards him for a moment. He feels somewhat familiar in that he gives her the same feel she gets off of Dimitri. Maybe it's a sign thing? She has no clue what Dimitri might be but she knows she herself is a Harbinger. Beyond that, well ... forgive her if she laughs, Byleth.]

There is a man I've worked with at home, Second Lieutenant Vitter. He has the nickname 'Cold Vitter' and is considered an intimidating man as well.

[But.]

Beneath the exterior though he's a kind man I think. I would never say such to him of course but I had a good time working with him.

[fishfearme]

Yes. Some find it difficult to project a... friendly demeanour. People misread that.

[Not that he's talking from experience or anything-]

Friendliness is easy to fake as well. Isn't it more preferable to deal with a stern man who makes it clear where he stands with you, even if he isn't the warmest? That's what I believe...

[Blunt, straightforward people who may come across as rude is Byleth's preference. He never had to fret stumbling over some social rule or making a verbal faux pas - he can just be blunt right back. Ensures there're no misunderstandings and the like.]

[a_noble_flame]

I definitely don't disagree with you. Frankly demeanour doesn't change how I see others though. Actions speak louder as the saying goes.

[Alice has known the most pleasant of men to be constantly wearing a mask and the coldest to have a warm heart. She's talked to terrorists and understood their grief and spoken to high military officials to only be met by greed. And with the Corporal ... well, she's definitely learned her lesson on outer appearances.]

[fishfearme]

Yes, I agree. Actions define the individual, not their words, and even then, their actions are normally driven by circumstances that you don't have insight into.

[Byleth had existed mostly on the fringes of the war that consumed Fodlan, a mercenary for hire that leant his blade to whoever paid the highest... well, until Shez had soundly beaten him, and then Byleth had offered his blade just to save his own skin (and his father's). He knew there were many, usually in the Kingdom army, who would mutter about them being disloyal dogs, cowards who only cared about their own lives, but wasn't the desire to survive something that every living being shared?

Besides, if there was one thing Byleth prided himself on, it was that he'd never betray an ally. He may kill many, and further the interests of warmongers so long as their gold filled his pockets, but he was never cruel, and he was never a traitor, no matter what was said about him.]