T. A. Star
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29 - Point of Power
🕑 Added 2024-06-28 00:00:05 +0000 UTC
“Thank you, Lady Dewsong,” a middle-aged cinderen said from behind the group as Rayna’s dirge came to a sorrowful end.
Phoenix recognized him immediately yet had never actually met the man before because his son, Simmon, was practically the spitting image of him. Dazien greeted him for the group, and Mohala moved to hug him, “Noble Icarius Teras, I’m sure I speak for everyone when I say that we share in the loss of your son. Simmon’s death feels especially tragic among these fallen heroes, but I can’t imagine what you must be going through.”
The Sapphire Caster gave a sad smile and nodded, “Thank you, Mister Smithson… or is it Wayland now? I can’t help but notice you bear their House crest,” he glanced towards the Wayfarer and his smile twitched slightly as he added, “And it seems Paul had a secret soft spot for collecting strays that can’t blend in.”
Dazien shared his pain-tinged smile and chuckled, “It seems he did. I wish he could be here to honor your son as well.”
“From what little I’ve gathered, if not for Regent Wayland’s connection to the gods, Paul’s name would be up here, and this memorial would have been for him also,” Icarius noted, then nodded toward the wall as he added, “I’m glad I didn’t have to carve his name up here as well.”
“You carved the names?” Phoenix asked curiously.
“I’m a Glacial Sculptor. I’m fairly decent at it, and it was nice to be able to do this for my son,” he replied, looking along the wall before his molten eyes fell on Rayna again, “I actually wanted to ask if you wouldn’t mind singing that song again but in front of a Sense Stone. I recently became well acquainted with the memorial organizer who works with the temple of the Undertaker, and he was bemoaning the lack of a dirge to help send off the souls.”
The voxen looked surprised at the offer, glancing toward Saiya and saying, “We could do it together too. It might sound a bit better with a harmony if you want to record, but…” she trailed off as Saiya shook her head, still sniffling and unable to form words, “Perhaps both of us another day… I can go now if he wants it for today. I know a couple of other dirges as well… it’ll be nice to help, I think.”
The nobleman smiled and patted the bard’s shoulder, “I understand that sentiment. It’s why I jumped at the chance to offer my services as well. Ethan…” the cinderen frowned before saying, “Well, he’s thrown himself into other avenues of assisting others.”
“Camilla mentioned that she would be going to the, um, tree vessel with him tomorrow,” the Wayfarer recalled.
“Is that so?” Icarius said in surprise, “Well, at least he’s getting out of that workshop. I don’t–”
A loud sob drowned out the words as they all turned to look at the source, and a runeforged woman was on her knee in front of the wall, looking at a recording of a young man petting a sivatherium –a recording of a man that Phoenix also recognized as Tanner Neired.
Simmon’s father moved towards the woman, bending down next to her and whispering words that Phoenix couldn’t catch before she jumped slightly as the woman shoved the noble away and shouted, “You dare! It’s your spoiled daughter’s fault my son died! Your arrogant husband demanded she lead them, and she led both our sons to their deaths!”
Phoenix felt her body moving to help the stunned cinderen staring in shock at the screaming woman, but a strong hand on her shoulder stopped her, and she turned to see Uriel shaking his head at her as he whispered mentally over the connection they shared through Dazien. “She’s enraged, Princess. You shouldn’t get in the path of that rage.”
It seemed too late though as the woman’s gaze seemed to notice the movement and swept across her whole party, recognizing who they were. The anger seeming to increase with each face she met until her gaze rested on Phoenix.
“And you… What is the point of power that only hurts those around you? My son. His son. Your father,” she practically spat the word as she yelled, “Where is the Lord Paladin that was too late to save Tanner? Rotting away in his ivory tower? What good are your gods if they couldn’t save them?!” she cried out as she made a sweeping gesture towards the wall.
Dazien stepped forward and made a sweeping gesture away from the wall as he said, “To save all of them,” he then bowed slightly toward the grieving woman, “To save you, Madam Neired.”
She looked away, more sobs escaping her lips as the gemite said softly, “We know you’re angry and hurting. Everyone here is. Blaming one another for not being enough isn’t going to bring them back to us. We’ll leave you to your grief, but I hope you come to understand that none of us desired any name to be on this wall.”
“Pretty words from a Shiny gemite…” the woman muttered, angrily refusing to look at any of them.
Phoenix moved forward out of Uriel’s protection and said, “It might not seem like much, coming from me, but Dazien’s right. None of us wanted Tanner to die, even if we didn’t always get along with him. Our actions to protect him before in the mountains should be proof enough of that. When he was hurting, unable to fight without Sylvie, we fought to protect him.”
She paused at the memories and added, “And even if you hate us for not being there to protect him this time, we’ll keep fighting to protect you and everyone else. Just like I’m sure he would want us to.”
Another sob escaped the woman’s lips as she finally glanced up at her and said, “Because that’s what Adventurers do. They die so others don’t.”
Patricia rubbed at her temples. Despite being Emerald Caste now, it seemed that headaches could still be a thing. After yesterday’s very long and straining memorial service, she had come straight back to the World Tree to finish her few preparations for the arrival of the Ruby Caste Knight from the nation’s capital.
The Pyre Executioner was both a well-known and enigmatic figure among the people of Pyrin. Being one of the original gemites born on Makera, they were literally in the history books. In addition, they were well known to be one of the most prominent examples in the world of a powerful kosper: a person born with both sexes.
There were other species that either completely consisted of kosper, like the Sirens, or some subspecies of Dryads. There were also the Phantasmal who lacked any sex at all, which was known as being a tuzosper, but the majority of the world was still divided into men and women.
A kosper or tuzosper could and had been known to appear among every species however, since magic often altered things and interspecies children would create some interesting results at times.
While everyone on the continent likely knew what Veldrix Thevaris was, not many knew who they were. What did they like or hate? What were their favorite foods or gifts? What interests did they have outside of any function they performed for the crown? This kind of information was vital for someone currently in her position, yet she wasn’t part of those royal circles in her small corner of the country.
To add to her growing headache, envoys from both the Fae and an unfamiliar group of voxen had arrived on the World Tree’s doorstep this morning, politely requesting an audience with its caretakers despite both being Ruby Casters that could easily break through the current defenses the vessel had managed to repair and get functional again.
The only saving grace for her was that the Fae were informed and sent by her goddess, the Cultivator, and were there to assist, not barter or try and claim the World Tree or its knowledge. The same couldn’t be said for the other two parties.
She glanced up at the strange voxen with a complexion like a midnight cinderen but with silvery freckles spattering his cheeks, “So, Mister Starfall, you’re less interested in the Corruption-cleansing World Tree than the wreckage of alien ships strewn about the tundra and having a… ‘chat’ with Presley?”
The voxen’s silver eyes had the same slitted pupils as every other voxen, but the coloring was nothing like she had seen or even read about before as he gave a fanged smile, “I would be thrilled to be granted the opportunity to have a discussion with the Emanation of this sentient vessel. In return, we are willing to help protect this nation while the Soul Reapers remain a threat and share any knowledge we gain from this location. And please, call me Mint.”
“Mint,” she repeated, then continued, “You mentioned the Starfall voxen you represent are a globally neutral party. Wouldn’t offering us assistance in the war be choosing a side?”
“The Soul Reapers are a global threat, and we offer everyone on Makera assistance,” the man clarified, his seven tails twitching slightly in a swirl of blue and green, “My people have been assisting the entire world with researching the Soul Reapers’ technology that allows them to remain outside the influence of the gods and traverse the stars.”
“Why?” Patricia asked with narrowed eyes, “An entire species working to assist everyone in a war they have no need to get involved in… to what end?”
The voxen’s grin turned slightly feral as he said, “Can’t it just be for the betterment of the world?”
“In my experience, that is rarely the case for an individual, let alone an entire nation,” the noblewoman retorted.
“Says the woman whose brother sacrificed himself for a city… right here, in fact,” the vulpine man pointed out.
“I said ‘rarely’ as a qualifier for a reason. People like Paul don’t exist as a unified species,” she countered, adding in a mutter as she rubbed at her temple again, “Thank the gods for that, honestly. A nation of stubborn over-protective avenging Strikers sounds like a political nightmare.”
Mint chuckled, “Fair enough. Let’s just say we all share a fascination for the stars, and the Soul Reapers present a wonderful opportunity for us to advance our knowledge of them. I assure you that our interests align.”
“I doubt that, and the offer of assistance alone isn’t as enticing as you might think when we have an Obsidian Caster who is currently quite dedicated to that cause.”
The voxen seemed to glance at the space next to him and tilt his head in surprise for only a split second before turning back to her and saying, “What if we can offer assistance in not only rebuilding and upgrading the duchy’s infrastructure but turning this vessel into a suitable home for your House.”
Patricia tried to keep her expression neutral as she replied, “I would say that is very generous and ask which god exactly it is that you serve?”
“I don’t serve any god,” the man replied promptly.
“Trickster?” she questioned aloud, “Villian or the Maniac, perhaps?”
He laughed, “Why do you assume my intentions are ill?”
“Because they’re too shrouded in mystery. You want me to trust you, but I need a very good reason to do so rather than simply trying to play to my fear or greed.”
The voxen’s smile finally faded as he regarded her, glancing once more at the empty space but with more inquiry than surprise. After another moment, he nodded and said, “I wasn’t lying when I said I don’t serve a god, Ambassador Wayland. I serve a Progenitor. The creator of all voxen who is very invested in exploration and making sure we all survive.”
Patricia sucked in a sharp breath. Gods, she could contend with, in a sense. Their followers were just as mortal as she was, and she had other gods on her side to stand against the dark ones. Progenitors were at the same level as the gods but not bound by the same rules. Few mortals served them, and even fewer could stand against them.
“Well, I wouldn’t want to anger the Kitsune,” she said simply, deciding quicker than she normally liked to that a mysterious alliance would be better than annihilation. She then added, “I will gratefully accept your offer of restoration and advancement of Tulim and my House.”
Mint smiled broadly as he said, “You won’t be disappointed, Ambassador. We will make this vessel a new shining city led once more by a Wayland.”
Veldrix craned their neck back to look at the giant canopy of the World Tree that was well over fifty stories tall and still a growing sapling. It truly felt like standing in the presence of a miracle, and they wondered if they should make a point of visiting the Sacred Grove on Alkupera sooner rather than later. It had always been on their list of things to do someday but that list had long been collecting dust as they became tangled in the life and duties of a knight.
A tug on their pale green tunic caused Veldrix to glance down at the tiny child whose aura was oddly Crystal Caste but seemed to have the same flavor as the Obsidian tree that towered before them. The knight recognized it as an Emanation, which they had only heard of a few Obsidian Casters managing to accomplish creating and only one that they had met in person before.
The garnet gemite took a knee and smiled at the child in amusement, “You must be this Presley I’ve been hearing about.”
The child lifted a hand towards their hair as it said, “Yours is red like mama. Family?”
Veldrix chuckled, “No, but maybe a friend. You may call me Vel, little one.”
They glanced back up at the tree and asked, “Has everyone been taking good care of you? Or are they acting like most nobles do and using you as yet another tool for their own gain?”
“Was used as tool before mama,” the Emanation said, moving closer and taking their hand instead to look closer at the blood-red nails that glinted in the sunlight streaming in from far above, “Vel is like Uncle Dazien.”
“Dazien?” they asked curiously. That name hadn’t come up yet but Veldrix felt like many extraneous pieces of information had been left out in the rushed explanation they had been given by various people.
“He’s a Shiny gemite too. Amethyst. Not Garnet,” the child replied knowledgeably, and Veldrix glanced around the clearing at the base of the towering sapling again, noting the tree’s aura suffusing the area.
“Perhaps you can introduce us someday. Us Shiny ones need to stick together,” the knight said softly, “Tell me, Presley, do you know a lot about the people who have visited before?”
“Yes, but not allowed to share that with outsiders. Auntie Pati made me promise.”
Veldrix chuckled, “Very sensible. I’m curious, do you like the people caring for you? Is your originator happy with what has happened here?”
“Originator?”
The knight gestured towards the World Tree, “The Obsidian floraval there. Not many plants gain that spark of sentience but if it managed to make you then it’s obviously not just a magically infused tree.”
Presley grinned and nodded in understanding, “Tree is me. Ship is me, too. I’m happy here with family.”
“Family, huh?” Veldrix repeatedly curiously, looking towards the new Emerald aura they sensed approaching, seeing a stressed-looking runeforged woman wearing the garments of a Cultivator’s Priestess. The knight ruffled the red curls of the child and reassured, “Well, I’ll try my best to make sure you stay that way then.”
