Tasha knows now that the warrior doe in the images is Nike, Abaddon's Virtue of Just Victory. She serves as a sort of saint for the Amazonians, who don't seem to revere Abaddon directly. The mural of a battle shows Tisiphone, Megaera and Alecto - Abaddon's Heralds, stirring the memories and emotions of those fighting, or inspiring chosen warriors.
The young woman takes a moment to review the murals, thinking back to the first time she saw their like, and on their meaning. The broader sun-Pantheon of Abaddon is very complex in Amazonia, more than she's seen anywhere else; fitting, she thinks, for a people who aspire to greatness at arms and conflict.
Once she's done, Tasha walks over to the center of the room and sits down, crosslegged. With her digigrade, hooved legs, she never could find kneeling comfortable. "Here we are again," she breathes as she lays her hands on her knees and begins to let her mind wander, her voice nearly a whisper.
The incense is just as powerful as before. And Tasha keeps catching motion out of the corners of her eyes, as if the murals were moving, but they remain static when she stares at them. Finally though, when she didn't seem to paying particular attention to the space in front of her - she notices the cloaked figure who may have been there all along, or not.
Once, the appearance of the cloaked stranger surprised her, but that day has long since past. It's been a long and dangerous road since then; she has accomplished much and risen even higher. Strange events and seemingly impossible occurences have become almost common place. Even so, she hasn't quite lost her sense of wonder, especially towards the mysterious figure that has guided her from the shadows of her mind.
"Hello," Tasha greets the figure, not quite looking at her.
"I wasn't expecting to see you here again," the figure notes. "Are you seeking further insight?"
"It's funny the places we end up without meaning or expecting to," Tasha observes before answering, "If you wouldn't mind, please?"
"What is it you are seeking then?" Tasha's old mentor asks.
"Guidance? No ... To be honest, I think ... I think I might be losing faith in my cause. I'm becoming paranoid, and it's making it harder to trust others. The power I've gained is corrupting me, its become a burden even as I fear to lose it. I have achieved what I set out to do, but now I find myself trapped in my own success. I fear I am just repeating the mistakes of the past; I have seen through the eyes of ancient beings and I know what I am doing is temporary, and I wonder, what does it matter? I fear my incompetence, I routinely take on tasks I am ill suited for. In my moment of success, I realized I had become conceited," Tasha answers in a tired litany. What she couldn't bear to admit in the waking world becomes all to obvious to her semiconcious mind, strong enough to stand out like beacons.
"Tell me, Aldara Tasha: do you think your problems are unique?" the cowled sage asks. "These things are endemic of your age - not the external things, but the internal conflicts, pride and insecurities. If you fear for your ability to deal with these things, simply look to the others around you have dealt with them already. You may be surprised at how many you already know."
"I suppose it because I fear to trust that I fear to ask," Tasha realizes. "Or," she tilts her head, "I fear the answer. My Gabriel seems uncomfortable with my revelatios, and few can be trusted with the knowledge I have." Her head tilts the other way. "And yet I long to tell someone and share my burden, so I let slip what I should not."
She's quiet for a moment as she thinks, then says, "Gabriel would know as would Strength-of-Stones. There is Tyche, but she presents her own problems. The Captain-Astromancer would understand, but he is deep in the world his forebearers created, and not to be trusted without care. The machines do not understand, but I enjoy their company. They are straightforward."
"Success can be corrupting, because it is - in many ways - counterproductive to growth," the cloaked one explains. "Look back on your life, and tell me: which made you better, the failures or the successes? It is only through our mistakes that we gain wisdom. Success gains us pride, and potential problems. Do you fear mistakes or embrace them?"
"Both. It depends on the mistake. I am here confronting them, am I not? The higher I go, the less room for mistakes I seem to have. It is as you say: success restricts growth. I miss the time before I had succeeded, when I was still struggling to prove myself," Tasha answers.
"Do you feel that you have proven yourself?" is the next question. "I do not think you would on the course you now follow if that were the case. A course even I did not foresee in the beginning."
"No, I have a long way to go. I see your point," Tasha conceeds. "You are saying I am focusing too much on what has been and what is now, rather than where I would be. Because I am unfamiliar with my situation I have stopped to brood on it, and in looking to these things I have stopped looking to the future and what could be with effort. While there are problems that demand attention, they are not so many as they seem."
"Some of them are of your own making - problems that do not, in reality, exist but that you worry about anyway," the sage notes. "Perhaps I am to blame for some of that. I was very focused on a single problem for a very very long time."
"It is a poor choice to blame my problems on another who has helped me." She pauses. "The Fenris was this problem you fought with?" Tasha asks as she leans forward. her conversations with her guide are usually once sided,
"Of course," the figure notes. "It consumed me. It was only over a great span of time that I became a symbol for avenging of murder, due to the beliefs of others."
"You're saying you pre-date your identity as Tisiphone, that you were concerned with the Fenris before you assumed that identity?" Tasha asks, brows rasing. "Then, are you an ancient spirit? A member of Expedition Fleet ..?"
The cloak hood is pulled back, revealing once more the slightly older version of the face that Tasha sees in the mirror. "Can you name me now, Tasha?" she asks.
Tasha's ears perk as she stares at the older version of herself before she quietly offers, "Nora?"
The other woman smiles. "Who else among the Fenris crew was murdered?" she asks. "Over a long period, during an event of high magical flux, at that. For a long time, I haunted the crash site, alone - but then others came. The nomad cats, and then the warrior rabbits who stayed. Through them, I was able to.. learn. And extend my range."
"I don't know why I didn't realize it before," Tasha admits in shock, her hand brushing her hair back. "It must have been terrible, and here I am, bemoaning my problems to you!" She lets her hand fall, hair displaced and forgotten as she leans back and shakes her head. "But this is good, it's better than what was, at least. So those who came upon your ghost ... they learned the name from you. And their belief made you stronger, but changed your identity, just as the High Priestess said of gods. Are you ... " she leans forward again, " ... are you happy now, Nora?"
"Vengeance is satisfied," Nora.. or Tisiphone.. says. "My investment in you paid off, and you managed to rescue some of my crew as well. As a rule, the dead do not change - I'm one of the few exceptions. I had hoped I would be gone, when my purpose was fulfilled, but I've found that I still have use. And so long as you live, I likely will continue as well."
"Then, the metal at the Dragon's Throat, my mother and father ... You are the one who made my existence possible? To fulfill your vengeance and recover your mission?" Tasha asks, eyes wide and ears full forward. "Do you ... want to disappear? Am I holding you back from your rest?"
"I don't feel the need to vanish," Tisiphone says. "If my own end was what I sought, I would not have placed a piece of myself in you. The metal was brought there by the Amazonians, long ago. Wherever they go in the armor of the Fenris, I can go with them. I am who your father saw when he looked at your mother that night - he was very suggestible at the time. Nora would call it 'wearing beer goggles' I think. I'm not sure how you feel about all of that though."
"I a thankful to exist whether it was because you sought to use me to accomplish an end or not, though I am less sure what to think about my life's predestination," Tasha admits. She tlts her head, resting it on her right hand. "A piece of you in me. And then there is the PersoCom download. I really am you, aren't I? Another version, another face, another life, just like the Nora who occupies the Bellerophon. And since I am a piece of you, you must be able to travel where I go, as well. I'm sure you've seen her too. And Gabriel." Tasha taps her chin a moment, then asks, "I guess it all that makes you my mother, too. For what it's worth, I don't mind being used by you. I'm just sorry I didn't see it sooner. I would have done what you asked if you had asked me directly, you know."
"You needed to see it all with your own eyes, and decide on your own actions," Tisiphone says. "My bias would have tainted you. As for going where you go.. only to a degree. Here, Olympia.. my range is limited. The sky islands are beyond me, as are other worlds."
"Then, who is that woman who appears to be you, in my dreams?" Tasha's purses her muzzle, then explains, "She claimed to have 'once been a part of my mind'. Was that you? Because of the Sifran array? You have no interest in the Markers, I take it?"
"That is me.. the piece of me I used to ensure your conception, at least," Tisiphone notes. "It was always meant to be there until you needed it, or sought it out. I'm not sure what you mean by Markers?"
"Nora would know them as 'Origin Markers'. I am seeking them to fulfill another prophecy; I guess it runs in my blood?" Tasha grins, lopsidedly. "The Khattans and the Kampfengruppe -- the Tutons -- seem to have come here seeking them, and where they lead. I intend to find out what they were up to."
"I'm not familiar with them, sorry," Tisiphone notes. "Nora was always focused on the mission, often to the exclusion of everything else. Being fixated on her captain did not help."
"He is hard not to fixate on," Tasha agrees with a smile. "It seems I ended up with him, too. In the same role. Doing the same things. Even if I'm a little different. Is that also what you were hoping for?"
"I will admit, though, that he seems to have lost a lot of his confidence. Though he is our commander, I lead because he lets me. Because it's easier," Tasha adds.
"I didn't think he would ever be revived, honestly," Tisiphone notes. "The irony of my existence is that I am anchored to the Fenris, but cannot enter it. At least, not while MOTHER was active."
"MOTHER could prevent your entry? Or was it due to some sort of metaphysical rule?" Tasha inquires, then adds, "I wasn't sure we could save him, either. It cost a fortune. It was worth it."
"The artifacts may have played a part, I'm not certain," Tisiphone notes, and shrugs. "It's been 6,000 years and I still do not understand the rules of my existence. But then, that's not unusual in life either, no matter how long you live."
"I know I don't understand why I do some things and not others, though I can at least answer the question of 'why I exist' -- and who can say that?" Tasha grins, then she stands up and walks over to Tisiphone and holds her arms out. "By the way, thanks for letting me exist. I guess I should have sacrificed that sword to you."
"A sword?" Tisiphone asks. "It would have been appropriate if it had been used to exact vengeance for a murder, I suppose.."
"Mostly it had been used to boost my ego and make my hips sore," Tasha admits before reaching over to try and hug the ancient ghost. "And just think, now someone will worship you for letting them exist."
"Does that make me a mother?" The spectre feels solid enough.. but then, this could all be in Tasha's head, or a hallucination and she's actually passed out on the floor drooling.
"In a sense. You're my spiritual mother. Dad saw you, so, I think it couts the other way too," Tasha insists, hugging anyway. If it's all a halucination, well, it's hardly the worst thing she's ever done hallucinating.
"It would probably be best if you don't tell that part to your real mother," Tisiphone notes, patting Tasha on the back .. her hand passing right through one of her wings in order to do it.
"Hokay," Tasha promises, leaning back. "It'd just make her feel bad anyway. I guess ... I guess I have my answers now. I'll work on not letting my problems get to me, and not creating ones that shouldn't exist. Do you ... Do have anything you want me to tell him?"
"That was a different life," Tisiphone notes. "I have my memories of what he used to be like. I'm sure he's moved on and changed. It's best if he doesn't really know about me, probably. Make him happy for me though."
"I'll do my best," Tasha promises as she steps back. She then bows, takes another step back, and asks, "We may not see each other for a while -- is there anything else, now that I've said my part?"
"I've had plenty of time to make peace with myself, Tasha," Tisiphone notes. "I'm only here to help you. And I hope that I have, and you will not dwell too much might-bes and could-have-beens."
"I appreciate your help, it's good to have someone to be frank and honest with without concern," Tasha replies, keeping her head down. "I will do better and work to move past my tendancy to brood on problems. Thank you for your help, and for what it's worth, I'm glad I could help you, too." She then stands, takes a step back, and turns to look at the opposite wall. "We'll meet again some day. Good bye for now."
"Good bye, daughter," Tisiphone notes, and then.. is gone.
Tasha reaches up to rub at her eyes, needing a moment alone before she faces the world again. To think it was Nora who allowed her to exist, Nora that guided her through her time in Amazonia and beyond, and Nora who remains with her still, to give her strength. Nora, who is Tisiphone. She saw her face in Tisiphone because it is her face; her mother's face.
As she turns and walks towards the door, Tasha finds she's feeling a great deal better, both about her problems and about herself. She'll try not to fuss over details and phantom concerns, and remember that there are people supporting her, even when she feels alone. She'll try and enjoy the little things, for those who cannot.
Rather than pulling her hood up, she decides she'll just walk out as she is. They've seen her before, and today, she couldn't feel prouder of the face she wears.