The landing field was crowded. Aside from the various small ships that had accumulated over time, there Melchior in his starfighter form, and also the Astraea had returned, meaning the those that had been in the Primus system had returned. There was still room for Kala to set down in of course. Sasha and Lad were definitely looking relieved for the flight to soon be over. Not because of Kala's flying, but because of all the stress pheromones that had been accumulating from the sisters. Hakeber had dealt with that by falling asleep.
The sisters Fiera, Ashera and Kalalani exit the dropship, each wearing their own expression, moving in their way as they step on to the tarmac.
Kala is first, stretching for the sky with her fingers interwoven. "Glad that's over," she declares, then drops her arms and spins around to face the people exiting, only to be immediately facing Fiera.
The large winged wolfess frowns, grunts, and manages a "Good job," and a pat on the shoulder before walking right past Kala. The ashen colored twin, slightly shorter though a viewer be hard pressed to notice the fact, offers an apologetic and sympathetic smile yet no words of encouragement nor reassurnace. She follows her off-color double, heading toward the crowd without waiting.
Kala heaves a sigh. "Two modes. Business and big sister, only. I need a drink. Or the drink." Unlike the other two, she does wait.
"As much as want to wash off the scents of the past few hours, probably should at least wait a little bit," Lad tells Kala, and puts an arm around her shoulder. "And I think my butt fell asleep," Rebby complains. "Good thing mom and Aunt Katie weren't on that flight with us."
"Ugh, the judgment. I'm not sure which mom I'd want to have around less sometimes -- not that I don't love them!" Kala looks around quickly in a flash of panic, yet seeing neither of the older women, exhales another sigh of relief. "What I mean is, they're all very expecting, you know? Evaluating. Judging, like before an execution. Or is that me?" She snorts a nervous sound as she tries to laugh it off. "But what do I know, right? Ready for the crowd?"
"I see Zach and Zelda are back," Lad says and waves. Shona joins them, then spots Vasha. "Well, I see my mom," he says. "Not sure if dad is back or not, anyway, catch you later at the pizza-making-party!" the Vartan says, and heads off towards Vasha with his load of donuts.
Sharon is also visible, wearing her medical coat covered in magic symbols. The 'designated spinster' as she likes to call herself. No signs of any of the dragons though, or Pheeny.
"Mission failed..," Kala declares as the donuts move further and further away from her grasp; she shakes her head. "Who else is here... Oh hey it's Sharon! Sharon's always good for some peaceful cheeriness, or at least peace. Lets go say hi, maybe she'll act as a force field against ambition and stress." And then she's heading that way, waving, "Sharon! Hi! It's us, your favorites! Oh hey and it's Beth!"
Behind Sharon and keeping to the edge of things, nearest the green, is a walking oxymoron in long ears, a short but toothy maw, and overalls. She's carrying a basket of beautiful white flowers, big pettals and bright yellow stamens along side red roses and a few equally bright yellow wildflowers. her ears perk up at her name, she looks around at the crowd, then moves to intercept the group at Sharon.
"Hi sis," Beth greets her sister, before handing her a yellow wildflower. Unlike the other two they're gnarly things with a chaotic tangle of stems and leaves, the kind of flower to dot untouched fields, beautiful weeds. Kala tucks it in her not-hair and smiles a genuine smile as she ruffles the wolf-rabbit's hair. "You don't have to say it. I know. Come over with us, we'll use Sharon as a shield. Hi Sharon!"
"What's going on?" Sharon immediately asks. "Fire and Ash look they've got something on their mind, and Sophia vanished as well." She does smile though, and hugs all of them, even Rebby. Lad blushes from it, but Rebby wags her tail.
"Hey where did Sophia g--" Kala pauses, then rolls her eyes. "She waited until we all either stormed out or ran out and then exited behind us to excuse herself without delaying herself. Wow, just wow." She sounds a little impressed, but then throws up her hands and turns to Sharon. "Oh we're avoiding ambition and stress. You're a safe bet to avoid either, so here I am-- er we are!"
Kala returns the hug with a powerful tail wag Beth sidesteps with long-practiced anticipation, having been swatted off her feet more than once as she grew up. The half-Karnor-half-Rabbit returns the hug with a smile and a nose wiggle, then puts a white flower in Sharon's hair, and smile all the more brightly.
"You kids are so sweet and lazy," Sharon laughs. "It's all Tasha's fault for letting you grow up so you could decide on your own. Just like she did with me and Sasha and Vasha. Now.. what's up with your oldest sisters, really?" she asks Kala again. "I'd like to know if I need to prep the med-bay or not."
Kala, who had been looking around at the group with pride at being called 'sweet and lazy,' possibly one the the greatest compliments anyone can receive to her mind, freezes at the question, ears and tail up. She points to herself to conform Sharon is asking her. "Me?? Uh. I don't want to go the hospital either but, well, you know. Um. OKAY FINE!" She tosses her hands up, then explains, "Right so Fear and Ashes over there have a stick up their butts about what happened. They haven't been the same since they fail--" She looks around a moment, sees they're not around, and finishes,"--ed. Destiny, duty, we'll protect you don't worry, we won't fail, blah blah blah. So, when Gwen said she'd try it out of the blue mind you, they started acting like... that. You don't need to be Sophia to see they're going to ask to try again, probably careening towards momma like a hardship seeking missile."
"Well.." Sharon sighs. "It's seems so out of character for them to act like this. I hope they aren't going to confront poor Gwen about it too. Let's have some root-beer floats while they try to sort themselves out. I mean, you were all supposed to carry things on, so it's not like it's meant to be done by only one of you. It's just that things got... problematic... beyond that initial intent."
"Eh, I mean yeah, they're not usually so gung-ho and -- and I consider this a blessing really -- quiet. I mean, where's my day at if Fiera isn't trying to dislocate my shoulder with encouraging patting?" Kala just shrugs her shoulder; it's nowhere really. "And Ash is almost as level headed as Sophia most of the time, but more approachable and less like I Am A Robot Beep Boop." The half-Phin snorts a uncomfortable laugh. Beth looks up at her with a disapproving frown, and then Kala is quick to add, "I love her too she's the best and the smartest." To which Beth nods approvingly.
"But yeah as for Fea-errrr Fire and Ash, I think they've always felt it was their job. They trained for it harder than anyone, you see how they take after dad and mom. Annnnd, I guess maybe it's our fault for believing it. Uh." Kala scratches her head, though carefully, some of her pseudo-hair is sharp. "But hey, what's the problem aside from Fire and Ash's noncompatibility? Sophia said it was something like how much they're in too," eye waggle, "each other. Did we misss something?"
"If only they were looking for a boyfriend," Ash sighs. "Not that I could handle both of them anyway, I mean!"
"Riiight," Rebby snickers, and pats Beth. "Floats sound great! Where's Gwen now though? Is she with Pheeny and Tia and probably Tasha right now?"
"I don't know, and I'm not going to ask," Sharon says, and taps her nose. "I can't track them down, so I have an excuse." She then starts to usher them towards the cafeteria.
"Yeah to share like a dead scare-a-boo," Kala retorts, then she slaps the man's arm. "Man I could use an ice cream. Ugh. So much. Save me floating delicious island in a tasty brown sea."
It's Beth that answers the question of where Gweneth is, hesitating a moment before saying, "She's... at Holy Sword Pond." It's said quietly, as if she were struggling with the answer, and her ears cant back, guilty. "With momma."
"Why the Pond wai-" Kala freezes, then she emits a kenning squeak as she pushes her hands along both sides of her face, eyes squeezing shut. "Oh man. Oh man. I'm going now, just... I'm going now." And then she starts walking faster, departing ahead of the others.
"Wow, that's.. surprising!" Rebby says as Kala runs off.
Beth looks away, ears lowering further. "She... I shouldn't say any more. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything." She looks down at her flowers, then reaches to run her hand along the step of the largest white flower, its alabaster peddles glowing in the bright light of fae sun.
Gwen.
The Holy Pond, White Dragon Forest
Deep in to the forests of Whisper's world there is a pond of dappled trees, clear, clean water, quiet life, slowly flowing water, and the green. There in the center of the pond is a rock formation in the to which an old wooden sword had been thrust long ago. Left to time and the elements, it's the sword body partly covered in a soft shroud of moss and vine. Water flowers alight serenly upon the water's surface while strange and familiar animals live their lives here, coming and going, quiet in some unspoken vow of silence. The body of water clears space enough for sunlight to stream down upon it at all but the deepest hours of sunlight and sunset. At night the moon shimmers upon the quiet waters, stirred only by wind and flow.
There upon the rock are two figures; the first a stately curvacious winged canine woman of red, dressed in gold, black, clothing of fine make and station, officious. And yet her booties rest upon the shore, her long, long legs are wet, and she sits beside a girl whose head rests in her lap, her hand gently brushing the youth's hair in gentle affection.
And so the girl, so like this fairy place, like and unlike the woman who holds her. She, too, is canine -- in a way. And yet bright white fur merges with silver scales that run the length of her body, here and there. Her ears are longer than the other's, pointed, wide. Silvered horns stretch from her head, forked like antlers, glistening in the sunlight. Her hair is of a pink-salmon, long an unruly, stretching so long as to pass the middle of her back. It glows softly under the daylight rays, warm, pale, not unlike cascades of material dawn glow, gentle and soft. Her eyes shine in the light, the same color as her hair, slitted where the woman's are avian and gold. And like the woman she is winged, clawed and ribbed to the woman's avain wings, yet also feathered, furred.
And so time comes to this point. Aldara Tasha Argentine, politician, altruist, symbol, warrior against the darkness, slayer of demons, killer of a thousand men, voice to gods and dragons, a dragon herself. The woman who came to be so many things, physically, mentally, who reached for the stars and touched them, cupping them in hand to build a better world. Perhaps more than anything, a mother. How she wishes this moment could go on forever, of choices made and not, of apprehension the unknown future, now, here and now, it is time.
"Gwen," she whispers, gentle and encouraging. She strokes her daughter's hair, so soft, it never fails to amaze her. Gweneth was a surprise to them all; she hasn't ceased to be since that day. Her phantom, ethereal child, the ineffable daughter. Why did she volunteer? And yet she did. And here they are. "Gwen, it's time." Soft, gentle. It makes her heart ache, but there are things she must do, for all their sakes. "You need to go."
The old sword was where Gweneth rested, curled about it, embracing an old story told by sisters. Of battles fought, of great dreams and destinies. Thrust in its place by Fiera, she declared she would wield the 'holy sword' some day, and save them all. She fought them all with Ashera and won. She would be a great hero. Like her mother. And it was all in fun. Bright eyes and bright hearts, reaching for the future without knowing what it to do so. A story Tasha doesn't know, but Gwen does. She was there, after all. And so she kept the sword as it was, returning to it at this late hour to think and dream upon all that may be, of her sisters, Kala's fears and Fiera and Ashera
's drive. She would stand up, though she admits she doesn't understand why, why any of it. Why she can't or should just stay here in the light of the fae sun, surrounded by life. If only the fear had never come, the dream of her sister's not failed, if only, if only...
Somewhere back at the base, next to the giant portal, Thoth would be waiting, patient as stone. It was one thing to volunteer, but there was still the final step: receiving the power and ability to access the memories of a shared soul. Not just Tasha's, but all of the others, even those of her sisters if she really wanted.
But Kala, at least, she could help. She does not interfere, usually, content to watch. To learn. They don't really understand, and she thinks she musn't understand them either, so she keeps watching. There's all so much, everywhere and all at once. And the other things that drift between time, across the flow of that weaves and wills, the every-nothing at the bottom and top of the pond, and the sun and the moon and the eternal rocks.
It is time. It all comes to a point, a branch in the forest trail. Had it always been there, or did they make it? She make it? The last step was taken, but the wind comes from afar to be here, and so she thinks about the time having come. The song in the wind. Of a moment that is a lodestone, drawing that which is compatible to itself, inevitably -- or not. What waits beyond the crossroad, can she ever go back? There are so many paths and she doens't know how to take them all. She can take just one. It frightens her; she cannot see the horizon. But that's new, too, and so it is exciting.
"Alright." Her voice is soft but strong, a bit deeper than one would expect. Tasha can feel her aura, the aura of a true dragon, touching against her own. It lingers as she rises, letting go. "Then let's be off, everyone's waiting for you." She looks off to hide the pang of emotion, she must be strong. She always must be. But her love? It never falters. And so they wade together across the pond.
It's a long walk back, but Tasha savors the time. The forest has always been peaceful for her, and yet somehow Gweneth's expanse -- her realm, or perhaps fiefdom as granted by Whisper -- had always seemed more so. More fairy tale than the fairy's tale, alive, bright, and green, where much of the forest had been dark. Gweneth walks with her mother hand in hand. She doesn't get to see her very often, not since she came to think and act in her own way, not so long ago, for her mother was always busy, the storm and the wall, her rain falling, there to make life grow. And so too her lightning, though Gweneth had only ever heard it's thunder roll across the land. Now she walks towards the thunder and the lightning, to stand in its sky-breaking light.
But as all such moments, the peace would not last as Fire and Ash come to the forest. The two emerge with twitching noses, come upon Tasha and Gweneth at the end of their hunt.
They stop, momentarily taken aback by the sight and combined aura of the two dragons; Gweneth, ethereal, like a dream, always like something else that existed in the intangible, somehow walking the world. Somehow, their sister. Their fear. The unknowable power of the surprise child, who lends no answer to their anxiety. Now here they are, walking to steal their destiny. Long fear come upon them in the forest; dragons to slay.
It's Fiera who speaks up first, "Mother!" And so Tasha pause, Gweneth following the motion in turn. They radiate in a way Fire and Ash can perceive, if barely. Their mother, like the sun, burning so brightly it burns and blinds. Their sister sun dog, a pale and phantom star made less bright only by comparison to their mother. Alone she shines, with all her threatening potential.
"We've talked it over, we want to try again! We know the risks, we spoke to Sophia! We've worked hard for this! You know we have!" The unspoken 'don't take this away from us' left between the words. Tasha, for all her might and will, feels the words like blows upon her heart, her ears flicking, a thin and vanishing pain crossing her face; but she has faced worse, though this hurts in ways those battles never could. "I am not stopping you," she begins, voice rising to that of motherly authority, her voice of authority and reason among her children, "But I am warning you, and I think another attempt is a mistake, Fiera. You cannot be me. Nor can Ashera. You are yourself and each other. I don't need two broken children. Whatever my legacy, not that. You don't need to walk in my shadow to achieve greatness. You are already great. And you be more still."
There's certainly no rule that says there can't be multiple carriers of the legacy. That was always the original intent, that the offspring would start that way, and so never actually develop differently. But Tasha was never one for clones.
For her part, Gweneth watches. The river washes around the sword, past and future and old and new again, and so the sister sand the sword again. Who, then, to pull it? How, then, has she come to be here? Drifted here, like a leaf upon the stream that feeds unto the pool, or blow, by her own breath? But the waters do not succor all equally, and for all its beauty dissolution lurks in its peaceful waters, drinking too deeply when life becomes death. This, then, she sees as that. The wise one told her it would be so; as little as she knows, she agrees.
The wolf drinks too deeply now, and so its reflection drinks of the wolf in turn, and life becomes death. The leaf upon the water, going where the water wilt. A breeze from within changes a course. The wind upon her, the waters of time beneath them all.
And so the sword. Swung by Fiera, victorious blade above all the others, it falls down upon her mother -- and herself. Fighting, as she understood it, had been their way, her's and mother's. The one way. The one river, flowing. But Gweneth has slept by the river and upon the bond; the sword is quiet in its still reverie, become dream, in to legend. And a legend may be wielded by all.
Gweneth finds her mother looking back at her at the idea. At a level that need not be spoken, they understand. Tasha had explained much in the quiet rest upon the rock, and Sophia, too, earlier that day. There is a question in her mother's gaze; the answer to the idea placed in her hands where it sits awkwardly, its pressure that of responsibility.
"Okay," Gweneth tells her mother, causing Fire and Ash to exchange looks. "Okay what??" Fiera, while Ashera lays a hand on her arm. "What is it, Gwen? You don't want to do this? We know you don't. It seems exciting, I know, but it's a lot of responsibility, it's dangerous. You don't have to. We can."
"We can. Together. We can, together," Gweneth replies, and the two leans back ever so slightly. "Together??"
Tasha's smile is genuine, but sad. "You heard your sister. She is willing to share, if it is even possible. I offer no certainties. No promise of safety, nor will it be gentle. You will suffer. This, I can promise. And you may turn away, without disappointment, without question, without loss. Are you sure you still want this? Gwen?" She looks down. "Why do you want this?"
"I don't want Kala to be sad," Gweneth answers, she can change the direction. She is always interested in everything. And, unsaid, a calling. It is widely believed Gweneth is a pacifist, gentle, serene in her way, a quiet and puzzling child, precocious. But Gweneth has killed before; there in the forest, a challenger. A beast, fell and terrible. To its roar, a head tilt. To its fury, her quiet wrath. Broken and burnt, it died. And she thought about that for a long time; no tears, nor regrets. Only what was before, what came after, and a turning point. Supremacy, in that dragon urge, but quiet and gentle in its nature. She never spoke of it, and in time she walked on from that place where life became death. She thinks on it again when death comes before her.
Here the crossroads, and death. Of a challenger that stands beyond the clouds and towers beyond her sight. For Kala, and to stand against -- to come out on the other side. To guide the leaf; to know where the wind comes from. She thinks that must be why she's here.
And Tasha, connected to her daughter by soul and magic, feels this, and so knows it. The sisters see their mother's mask crack as she lifts a hand to cover her muzzle. It is too much. It's not what her answer would be, nor Fiera's, Nor Ashera's. It is an answer that is far from her own, her daughter in her own voice. "How I change when I am away from myself," she hears once again. How much, indeed. It will never not amaze her.
"That is enough," she tells Gweneth, accepting her answer. Fiera and Ashera exchange another glance. "And? And?" They echo the other. "Gweneth will be pursuing the same. You three may go."
"But--" Tasha's eyes flash, her head tilting down, brows arching. "Enough. Go. The future is waiting for you, whatever it may be. You have my permission. Go."
There's some hubbub when it turns out three sisters will be making the journey. Rebby complains that they only had time to make one pizza, trying to lighten the mood. But then it would have been a lot for just one to carry. "You must not venture from the path," Thoth tells them. "Do not listen to the voices you hear, or what you might see out of the corners of your eyes. You will hear your mother, your sisters, and many others. It's the first test." He looks especially at Gweneth as he recites the rules. "If you pass, there will be time to explore later. Do you understand?"
"Yes. Do not leave the path," Gweneth repeats, matching tone and cadence. It may be uncertain if she understands or is just repeating what Thoth told her. Fiera and Ashera both look to her rather than to Thoth at the warnings; they know the rules. They have been studying, restudying, writing them on flash cards and quizzing each other on them for years, and especially, the last few days. They could have told Thoth the rules. And yet, they remain uncertain of their little sister's presence, feeling a bit like showing up to a championship match with their little sister on the team, like they're humoring her. Still, she was brave enough to come, so they don't openly doubt her -- to say nothing of countermanding their mother. "Right." "Of course." They chime in in unison, perfunctory, let's get this over and done.
Thoth turns and activates the portal, opening a watery view into the strange white forest. "Step through, and good luck. Bravery is doing what you need to despite being afraid, so let your fear keep you alive."
"You got it." Fiera is first to move, turning back to everyone gathered. She salutes, her gaze crossing the crowd, then fixing on her mother. Tasha's grin is crooked, then she salutes back, causing Fiera to stand taller. She gives a resolute not, turns, and strides through the portal.
Ashera hesitates a moment to watch Gweneth, who watched her sister, and watched her leave. But then she too turns to the crowd, grins her own lopsided grin, and gives a thumbs up. "Be back soon, eat my pizza and I'm using my new powers to get you." She looks down to Gweneth, rubs her hair up, and adds, "Ciao, bella," before turning to sprint through the portal after her twin.
And so Gweneth stands alone, having just watched her other sister dart through. And then she just... stands there for a long moment, staring at the portal. No fear crosses her face, frustration, doubt. Hr expression is a neutral as it can be, until Tasha clears her throat getting her attention. She makes little shooing motions towards the portal, Gwen's ears shoot up, then she starts walking backward in to it. "Bye now," she offers, along with a little wave, before turning at the last second and walking through.
On the other side is the forest, white trees with golden leaves. All spaced out evenly, with no underbrush. Or insects or animals, the place is completely quiet and still. The only sign of there being a path is that the trees are a bit more widely spaced to allow it. Despite the stillness, there is the distinct feeling of being watched.
Tasha says, "Do you want me to play all three through the forest, one at a time, or just Gweneth?"
When Gweneth looks ahead, she sees no sign of her sisters.
The first thing Gweneth does is look around. This is not as where she was before, not at all. The wind her is different, there are waves of time and place and will that paint in strokes the size of mountains, the other hand a plaster, making walls with mortar of bone, and thought, and and such things as she cannot even render to metaphor and emotion. It is all so much, and she might like to sit and look upon it for a long time. But she sees now she is alone, and Thoth spoke dangers. This is a test, and so she understands that to act or not act is to make a choice that will be weighed. There will be time later, she has been promised. And that is enough.
And so Gweneth, who travels her forest, and the forest of the sidhe, travels another. A white forest of pattern and intent, written to every leaf, branch, the soil the land. And there is dirt, too. This she checks for hoofprints.
The soil is doesn't carry any imprints. No guide there, just the straight openness of this particular stretch. But a forest is a living thing, so it might be possible to simply ask for directions, or for her sisters. The leaves rustle and whisper to eachother, absent any breeze. Shadows move oddly, with apparent intent as they don't all fall in the same direction.
Gweneth pays no mind to the shadows, nor the whispers. They are declared to be a hazard, and she has no reason to doubt Thoth until she does. The test is, in part, to ignore them, and so she does in so much she keeps them from focus while remaining aware of them as potential dangers. And, of potential change. Perhaps it is a pop quiz, or intentionally misleading; these things exist, she has experienced them, and so perhaps they exist here.
With her focus so armored, Gweneth contemplates the forest before her. No sidhe forest, this. And it is certainly not her forest forest, yet it has a undercurrent of either. A deep, dark, vast undercurrent, flowing out and through the roots to feed every root and branch, the very earth -- and the sky. Everything here. In that, it is akin to Whisper's World, and to her forest, loaned as it may be. There is a center to the forest that is not a place, but a will, opposing her own. To the eye the forest is a maze, to the ears a distraction, to the nose, strange. She hasn't tasted it yet but that doesn't yet seem necessary. To her dark eye, to her dragon sense, to the power of magic that flows through like liquid dawn, she sees a path.
Gweneth sees the center.
There, watching, there at the center of it all from which it all flows, its will manifest in every tree and branch, written in to the distractions, the whispers, for they say many things and yet all the same name. That is the path. The spider sits on its web, weighing it down, like gravity.
And so Gweneth starts walking toward the center of it all, her aura erupting causing her hair to flow in an unseen breeze, glowing with a soft, auric light. She recites the magic of protection as taught to her, a mantra under her breath. Kai is a exciting teacher, though she is of the darkest forest, not a place to dwell overlong. A staining color, with a smell a little like rot.
There is movement beside her, like her own shadow but not. A different sort of aura, but also similar to her own. Is it her shadow, or something else? It doesn't make much noise, since there's nothing underfoot in this forest.
Thoth said not to mind the shadows, so she does not. She sees the center. It is not so easy to see without looking hard, even if it is written in very detail, a fractal message going down-down-down to the smallest, up to the largest and again. She does find it interesting the aura is like her own, but perhaps it is s trick; indeed she finds this likely. It was, after all, said to be as much. She continues along her chosen way.
"What's your name?" the presence shadowing her asks. "I'm Ercllyr. You seem to be a lot like me."
"Excuse me, but I must focus on the path. I know you are trying to distract me, which is or may be your 'job', but I must oppose it." Gweneth keeps walking. If there is really a Ercllyr, she can speak with them later and apologize for any rudeness. Rudeness, as a concept, is one she continues to struggle with, though she's been told she's making great progress. Why she must sooth wounds of ego, emotion and self for doing this and that is hard for her to comprehend, for she acts and that is it, but apparently there is a problem. But, it is a problem for later, and less of an immediate one than the path, and so she concentrates on her most immediate problem.
"I'm not trying to distract you," the presence says. "It's just that you aren't like the others, you're like me. Everyone's hopes were on me too, before. I was supposed to be their new god, you see. But I was careless and something in the Dark ate my soul. It took a long time for my body to eventually die though. So if you're going to die, make sure it's fast and kills your body too."
Gweneth considers that for a moment, thinking back to the burnt and ruined creature that challenged her in her forest, and so came to its end by her hand, her tooth, her claw, her fire and her magic. It did seem to suffer for that time when life became death; she watched it and its story was new to her, the smells and the sounds. Instinct guided her to defend herself, curiosity kept her to remain there and learn. "That seems like good advice," Gweneth agrees at length, for it does. The suffering is reduced, and she thinks she does not enjoy or like suffering, though she keeps an open mind. The path continues on.
The presence fades. There are things that tantalize along the way. Snippets of interesting stories, people and creatures moving among the trees, and statues that seem to appear only to vanish when blocked by a tree. Eventually the path ends though, at the mouth of a grotto formed by a crescent-shaped hill. Two strange creates stand guard there, look like men with fish heads. "Halt!" says one, sounding just like a talking fish would sound. "Who goes there?" it demands.
Gweneth's ears shoot up: fish people!She makes an excited sound that starts like a wolf and ends in raspberries fit to come out of Goldie. She's so intrigued by fish people -- leaning forward and staring at one with wide eyes -- that she almost forgets to remember they asked her a question. "I'm Gweneth. You're fish-people. That's new!" The tone is very much that they should be proud to be something new. For Gweneth, it is an outstanding quality for anything and anyone to have.
"We are Koi Warriors," the fish-man says, somewhat embarrassed by the attention. "What is it you seek here?"
"The sun-star that planets encircle, the spider on its web, the name on the trees and the branches and the sky and earth and everything else. World-maker. It's ummmmmm," Gweneth screws up her face in concentration, "that way. Over there I think." She sidesteps in little scootches, trying to see around the warriors blocking her. "I think I can see it. With eyes. Eyeballs. In my head. Not the other way. I have a test. I am on a test. I am the test."
The warrior seems confused by all of this. "You're here for the test then?" it asks.
"Is there more than one? If so, list them." A pause, then Gweneth corrects, "Please list them."
"It's not for me to say," the Koi warrior claims. "We protect the Shrine. The other two came for the test though. So I assume it's the same test you seek."
"Two big," Gweneth holds her hand up to indicate Fiera and Ashera's height, "universal animal -- uh -- wings and canid faces, do you know canid? Wings? Did they look a little like me, did one say, "We're here," in a growly sort of demanding voice and expect you to move?" She leans in more, head shifting this way and that as she inspects the fish-man. Would they like her pond? Is that assumptive?
"Yes, that is an apt description," the Koi-man says. "And of course I know 'canid', I often work with the Shar-Pei. I suppose you can pass then. If the ward doesn't not block you."
"The ward is written in a thousand different names that are all the same, painted in a brush that is a mountain-world, in colors familiar and not. I seek the painter, who is also the paint, and the word," Gweneth... clarifies? She hops to the side, then gingerly walks up to the edge of the ward and gingerly reaches out to touch it. "I don't know this spell. It seems high level, of magus and magisters, men and women with high hats, fancy robes, and old things. The old forest. The dark forest. Ruin and rot benighted, feeling and fancy be righted, unto peace and sanctuary."
It feels like a membrane, which stretches under her probing until it eventually gives way and lets her finger pass through. It tingles, a bit like walking through portal did.
"All that glitters and tingles is gold," the little dragon says. She steps through, then, hands swaying at her side as she takes big steps, makes her way toward the center as she takes the newness beyond the barrier in.
On the other side is the grotto. It's centers on a water-garden, with tiny manicured trees rising from boulders. These are tended to by an ancient-looking tortoise man in an apron. Beyond that is the ivory tower, made of the intertwined tree-like trunks. It's caped by a dome, like a mushroom. It's all very phallic except for the entry between two roots at the base. That looks like it's taken from female anatomy. Fiera and Ashera wait there for her.
"I didn't get lost, and so am not," Gweneth greets the other two. Fiera has her arms folded, Ashera is leaning against a tree with her hands jammed in her pants. "Ohhhh heeey, you did it! Good job Gwen, first time we did it together, but we had faith in you." Fiera nods. "We wanted you to do it on your own. We decided we weren't going to hold your hand, but we weren't going to disrespect your effort, either. C'mon dragon, the rest awaits. I won't spoil the surprise." She enfolds her arms and thumbs behind her, Ashera slides off her leaning post and grins. "Big surprise. What do you think of Galatower? She told you about it, right? I've had thought so."
"Yes, the tower of power. Great living pillar, reaching in to the sky from the past in to the future. Her other home," answers Gweneth, who follows along. "There are fish men. And that's a turtle man. Can we keep one of the tiny trees? Why are they so small?" Can she make tiny trees? A project for later. "Do you think there was someone like me who was supposed to be a god, but got eaten by the Dark? Can I talk to them later? Don't die a long and painful death."
The twins endure this excited monologue with sisterly perseverance and experience. It's not the first time, and probably not the last. Besides, if helps stave off the anxiety.
Inside the gate, a guide appears. A kirinoid, looking nearly exactly like Galatea. "If you're all ready, we can ascend the tower," she says in a musical voice.
"What, no tour?" But Fiera is already heading toward the inner ramp. "I'd have preferred tea. Maybe a scone," Ashera adds, then she winks at Gweneth. Gweneth in turn adds, "Can I have the tower? It's made of something extraordinary-extra-ordinary."
Not-Galatea leads them up the inner spiraling ramp, past doors that look like closed lips, until they reach the top.
Their guide brings them to an amber table, where tea and scones are laid out. On the other side rests Kainudy. Compared to the other dragons she's tiny, small enough to fit on a couch. Unlike the others though, she's got a crown - or halo - of burning black flames.
The trio enters with mixed expression, posture, and focus, each to their own way of approaching the challenge and experience before them. Fiera merely glances around, fixes her gaze on Kainudy, and begins that way along the most direct path available to them, polite enough not to rush their guide, but clearly ready to be where she's going without delay. Ashera takes the situation at a slower pace; her look around is longer, pausing to mark this and that, without the expression of patient impatience of her sister. Her's is patience, and compared to Fiera, serenity.
Then there's Gweneth, who stops to stare at all of it. The floor, the ceiling, the not-Galatea, the sun-crystal -- especially the sun crystal -- and finally Kainudy, ignoring the tea and scones to watch her with interested and intense focus. At several points Ashera had to step back to guide the dragonling along her way, causing Fiera to draw in a long, carefully controlled, breath as she waited.
Fiera gives Kainudy a polite and respectful nod. "Lady Kaiundy." There's a military air in the way she says it, formal, controlled. Ashera smiles and inclines her head. "Lady Kainudy." Her's is more friendly, and for some reason, a little amused. Then she elbows Gweneth gently and she says, "You're not really a dragon." It's not an accusation but an observation, as if Kainudy were a painting labeled the work of one artist when really she's the work of another. After another elbow Gweneth adds, "Hello." Kainudy can feel Gweneth's ineffable dragon aura the second they made eye contact, the reaction of dragons meeting another, then it dropped off. The strength of it, the difference between her mother. Two dragons, one a universal being, the other a true dragons, the sum total of Tasha's strange composite all-inclusive nature and the raw power of life of a true dragon. Daughter, of one she fought with long ago. She radiates a serene and detached aura, but there was a challenge there, however brief. Her sisters seem oblivious to it.
"Well, why don't you all sit down and get comfortable," Kainudy says. "Please have some tea. I have too much of the stuff and can never get rid of it all. I'm surprised to see you again, Fiera, Ashera." She gives something of a slightly sad smile and asks, "Are you here to try again?"
The two sisters sit, then Gweneth, watching them as if their action were a somehow new to her, sits down next to, but a bit apart form, them. Ashera busies herself pouring tea while Fiera takes the lead. "Yes. We've thought it over and we know the risks. We'll find a way to overcome this and do what needs to be done. Mother agreed with us after we convinced her, and we're spoken to Sophia as well. Danger and adventure require risks, so it might as well be us risking." "Someone has to do it, so it might as well be me." Kainudy remembers the qoute, it's something their mother likes to day, that mix of self-deprecating, self-aware admission with the will to act on something is, however, missing. Fiera's version speaks more of duty, sounds rehearsed, but doesn't like for resolve; what it does lack for is experience, the naive declaration of cadets everywhere, with some edge to it from close proximity to so many fighters and luminaries. Naivete, but naivete with training and sage advice, indirect experience.
Gweneth accepts her tea and her scone, propping her head on her hands to stare at the scone with a degree of focus a scholar might dedicate to an ancient test. This doesn't last, but after a few sniffs, the scone does get eaten and tea drank, and the girl turns her attention to Kainudy's crown, her intense interest growing more concentrated, her aura flickering with some internal debate, struggle, or perhaps confusion.
"Gwen's here to try, as well," Ashera adds after tea is poured and her first sip. "Your guess is as good as mine as to why, probably better than mine, really." Her grin is self-confident and amiable.
"Alright," the dragon sighs. "Let's get the requirements out of the way first then," she says. "Everyone present your palms."
Fiera's expression twitches, and for a moment, her composure falters. But just for a moment. Under the table Ashera reaches to hold Fiera's hand. Gweneth, who had been eating her scone, leaves her scone in her mouth as she reaches out along side the others. Two substantially canine palms and Gweneth's white-and-silvered-crystal one, all with nails of various lengths, claws really.
"I mean, both palms," Kainudy corrects. "Right and left please."
The twins hesitate, then present both. Gweneth tries to eat her scone without the help of her hands by shifting and tilting her head while to let gravity do its work while also leaning in to present both hands.
There's no gesture or word from Kainudy, but a yellow and blue marker show up in each pair of palms. For Fiera, the yellow is in her right hand, but for Ashera and Gweneth the blue appears there. "Alright, that was just a basic test, that I knew you'd all pass. But still best to check, just in case. You can close your hands now."
Fiera pulls her hand back, as do the others, but she flexes it a bit in the way someone might rub an arm after a shot. Gweneth, meanwhile, stares at her hands, looking back and forth between them. Ashera notes, "I'd wondered what that was about, Lady Kaiundy. I was too focused on the task last time, but would you mind if I asked now? Especially, why Fiera's is different from mine, and for that matter, why Gwen and I share the same mark arrangement." The question causes ears, including Gweneth's, to perk and rotate towards Kainudy like secret tracking radar dishes.
"Those items are called Markers out of custom," Kainudy explains. "They represent associations with certain entities. They are bound to your shared soul, so if you didn't have them it would be an issue. As for the placement, I would guess it tells me that Fiera is more proactive than you and Gweneth, or at least hopes to be."
"Sounds about right," Fiera states. Ashera snorts a laugh and slaps her sister's shoulder hard enough to make a loud snap sound, causing Fiera to also laugh. Gweneth watches their antics with a wagging tail as she continues to try and eat her scone without hands.
"And that brings to the next round of obligatory... stuff," Kainudy says. "Let's start with you, Fiera: why do want this?"
"Same as last time, plus there's no reward without risk, no safety without opposition. Adventure's dangerous and so is fighting. We'll keep trying," Fiera answers matter-of-factly. The self-designated and actual oldest-of-the-oldest sisters, Fiera came out first, and despite her manner and behavior ended up modeling herself after Gabriel more than her mother, whom she resembled and shared much more of a personality with. A solid, reliable person with a protective big sister spirit when she's not pursuing some ambition with much of her focus, martially inclined, with solid grades. Secretly tries to fill in for a lack of son, making her Gabriel's unofficial favorite, with a close father-daughter relationship. Counterpart to Ashera, her sister and lover.
"Mmm," Kainudy goes, then turns to Ashera. "What about you, Ashera? Assume that you'd be going into this without your sister. What is it that you, and only you, want?"
"Oh, I know," Ashera says with a quiet if slightly airy verbal wave of the hand. "I want the same thing, of course, and I especially don't want to dump the responsibility on my sisters. There's a problem out there and someone needs to fix it, or else mom's going to try and fix it again. Or someone else will have to. Besides, I haven't been training all these years to guard a exploration vessel. Even if we fail here, like we said, we'll find another way. It's this way or some other. We -- I -- won't let anyone stop us, not even you Lady Kainudy. Sorry." She offers a teenager shrug; it is what it is.
Ashera, the eldest if not for Fiera, born only seconds later. Less militant and of a calmer spirit than her sister, Ashera takes after her mother in her later years, and after her father. Like her sister she was expected to attach herself to, and model herself after, the parent whom she resembled and acted like the most, yet the twins surprised them both by modeling themselves after their 'opposites'. With her sister taking charge Asher'a own personality is often overshadowed, but it's fine with her. It lets her observe, step in, adjust, and check for angles, play good cop to Fiera's bad, proceed with less effort, and support those around her with a gentler hand and broader viewpoint. The current fencing champion, subtle when she needs to be, with better grades than her sister and the wit to find outside the box solutions, she has long used others' underestimation of her to her advantage. Considered the more approachable of the two, she's also usually happy to help. A reliable, dependable person.
Finally, Kainudy turns to scone-in-mouth Gweneth. She cocks her head to one side (showing that the halo moves with it). "And now you, the youngest. Why are you here, Gweneth?"
Gweneth mirrors the motion, which causes some crumbs to fall in the sun-crystal light, like glittering dust. What Kainudy receives isn't so much a answer as a story.
The sky descends upon the sun a bathed lake, through trees and branches and space left clear by the encroachment of near still waters cinders fall to ignite the land. Cast by the far-reaching comet, it's dragon's tail of light reflected upon the calm and slowly flowing waters where the sparks make purchase. Flames dance and glow, each a light and a life of it's own. Fierce red, smoldering and smokey, golden brilliance, ghost-orange-silver, flowing blue, and inviting red-orange, to twist and whorl through the seasons, as night becomes day, and day night, the water ever flowing, the comet ever above.
Two sparks in the darkness; one the ghost-orange-silver, the other muddled, bruise purple-dark, in a place where shadows gather. One unto another, until the bruise purple-dark is no more; the other brighter in its absence, and the darkness less so for its brightness.
A dolphin meets a little dragon upon a rocky shore, a storm on the horizon, its fury lashing once peaceful reefs to a frothy chaos. Though beached the dolphin cannot escape the storm, no more than it can escape the sea. And so sees the dragon, its tiny body contemplating the sea, the shore, and the dolphin's plight. With its paw it moves the shore, casting further the false haven that is another death; with its wings it pushes away the sky and the comet above, with its mouth it picks up the dolphin to move it from all there is to see, and with its tail whips at the ocean, to push it futher. And so the dolphin is safe, but the storm lashes, and the land is too much to hold, and the sky is unending, and the dolphin too heavy to carry for long. Standing upon the store, the encroaching storm batters the dragon, for while it might fly away, the dolphin cannot. As the dragon remains, so, too, is it battered, the storm ever closer.
The dragonling returns the shore, returns the sky, and lowers the dolphin to sea. It rests for a moment, looking out upon all there is before it, and so unto the storm. With a beat of wings it lifts off, leaving the dolphin to hurtle itself at the gray wall, through the hammering rain, the tempest winds.
A ghost-orange-silver light and a nothing-black flame meet in the darkness.
Fiera and Ashera watch their little sister in the for a while in silence, then: "Is she... doing the thing?" Ashera vestures, brow furrowing. "She's doing the thing," Fiera concludes, and so the wait.
"An honest answer," Kainudy says, nodding her head. She turns back to Fiera and Ashera. "No reward without risk? Adventure?" she says to them. "There is no reward. There is no adventure. There is no need to risk at all. Your mother came to this conclusion after she faced the true horror of Sedu-hem. And you are not ready. You don't have the background of suffering that your mother did. You don't know pain. You would kill yourselves the first time you tried to wield the power necessary to destroy the enemy. Your mother beat four of them, and each time called on the power of greater entities. Except for the last time. She had her power, three dragons, Kai, Galatea and a spell from Katha-hem. Sedu-hem fell, though. The cost was great, the reality of the situation was horrifying. It brought us closer together. But you're too inexperienced to take on that... burden. And you don't have what it takes to bind yourself to something with the power you'll need."
Fiera goes very stiff. Ashera lowers her head, looking at her hands. While she stares at Kainudy, the quasi-dragon gets the impression Fiera isn't looking at her or, really, anything at all. She's staring right through her to the place where ehr dream falls to pieces and all her hard work crumbles to nothing. Ashera, at least, seems to be fairing better; there is a certain acceptance to her resignation, as if she had preprepared for this possibility. Yet no amount of preparation could fully insulate her from such a devastating personal setback; worse still for her, because she must know how Fiera is taking it without even looking.
"I-I see," Ashera says, pushing forth a brave effort to sound accepting and reasonable. Kainudy can hear her tone waver, tell she knows it's wavering by the slight twitch in her ears. "That is... unfortunate. Very... unfortunate." Fiera hasn't so much as moved.
Gweneth gulps down the last of her scone and looks to her two sisters. In a flash Kainudy sees another place and time. Five sisters, splashing in a sun dappled pool, a small lake with a rocky formation jutting out of its center. Each carries some wooden aparatus. Fiera and Ashera swords; Sophia and Gweneth have long sticks, and the youngest half-Lapi a Y stick with a band between. The reddish-gray cub battles them all, except the bunny, who is content to watch, and overcomes. She thrusts her sword in to the rock, declaring to all she would deliver them. And so the seasons change, the sword grows old, its body covered in moss and vine until Gweneth comes upon it again. Then there's Tasha, older, wiser, more powerful than she has ever been, to sit with her beside the sword. In the reflection of the lake the past of children playing, giving a vertigo inducing sense of not being quite sure which sie the viewer is one, as if time somehow became a circle.
"Stop looking like I just ate your puppy," Kainudy tells the eldest two sisters. "Everything you've done is still there, and everything you're going to do is still there. You aren't alone, there is an entire organization that is still going to need your talents and skills going forward in this crusade. It doesn't mean you aren't still going to be on the front line, if it comes to that. There is plenty of danger and adventure to go around, you just won't be sticking your heads directly into the jaws of the lion."
"It's not all about god-damned cosmic monsters," the dragon mutters, and 'listens' to Gweneth. "Or magic swords," she tells Gweneth. "Don't go believing in destiny. That's the central lie a lot of heroes make themselves believe. It's about sweat, and blood, and loss, pain and terror and screaming that seems like it will never end. And none of you are under any obligation to deal with it."
Fiera's ears shoot up, she even leans back a little, eyes wide as she's shaken out of her stunned silence. Ashera likewise looks up, but she holds up her hands placatingly instead; mercy please. "Maybe we can wait," Ashera suggests, hesitantly. Fiera still seems to stunned to say anything, but at least she's paying proper attention now. Gweneth's reply is brief, but unspoken. She shows Kainudy the sword again, and for a moment Kaiundy passes through years as Gweneth lives in the forest, her forest. And while she passes the sword, she sleeps on the sand, she wanders, she never does attempt to pull the sword. It is only after did she return to it properly, and even then, she did not pull it. There is an echo-within-an-echo of memory, Gweneth looking down through the pond through her memories, to Fiera drawing the sword. A spilled drink. A morsel stolen by a fork.
"I'm sorry that it's not fair," Kainudy says. "There is..." she starts to say, then stops. "You're too eager, and too fragile right now. Too bound together to let someone.. something.. disruptive into that dynamic. And not humble enough, because you've never been humbled. You are the best of the best. You don't know how to take a loss."
Fiera's laugh is unrepentantly bitter. "Succeed so much we failed, how about that." She folds her arms, leaning back to lounge on to the couch, letting some of her decorum fall to the wayside. Ashera just heaves a sigh, lowers her head, then swings it back up and drops back on to the couch beside her sister, whom she leans against. "The best of the best and too in to each other for anyone else. Well. Accurate." She rubs her face her face a moment, then out of the blue says, "Sorry, Gwen."
Gweneth herself watches her sisters with concern, her brow furrowed, knit, ears back. She looks to the plates, then hurries to pour tea and deliver scones to her older siblings. "Heh, thanks Gwen. She doesn't say much, but you know she cares. When you can understand her you psychic little squeaky dragon you," says Ashera, who ruffles up Gweneth's hair playfully.
"For Gwen it really does seem to be about others," Kainudy says. "Not herself. The opposite of how Tasha started. I tortured her, you know. I'd have to torture you too. Make each of you feel what it was like to lose the other. Or show you just what you'd have to channel. You don't deserve that. You don't deserve to know what your mother went through either. It would break you from your current course, I fear. Ruin you."
"That does explain why she tortures us now," Ashera quips in a nervous chuckle. Fiera rolls her eyes, but despite her best effort, a frown creases her brow as she looks off in to the black, starlit night. "I guess I owe her an apology. For thinking her stories were exaggerated. Made up. Some of them, anyway. She was trying to make us listen. I suppose." Kainudy can see the twins, though they try to hide it, hold hands once more. "Now I feel even worse Gwen," Ashera admits. "Are you sure?"
Gweneth just gives Ashera a thumbs up.
"Gweneth has power of her own," Kainudy says. "And she's not going to seek out trouble, I imagine. She does need to learn how to talk though. She's too much like my own daughters as it is. It makes me feel protective of her. I'll teach her. She seems to want to learn about everything."
Gweneth nods her head enthusiastically to 'learn about everything,' which causes both Fiera and Ashera to burst in dark but amused chuckling. "Now who is about to get tortured," Fiera remarks, and Ashera both elbows and nods simultaneously. "You know we all said she had some kind of potential, maybe you can figure it out, because I don't think anyone else can. She once stacked rocks Whisper's Realm. Mom said they're supposed to be art. No one knows what it's about. She tries to tell me with the thing but I can't quite understand it. I think mom does, Galatea seems to too, and I guess you do? Anyway, your funeral." More laughing.
Meanwhile Gweneth has another scone in her mouth and is heating her tea by blowing ghost-flames through her nose at her cup.
"Ectoflame," Kainudy notices. "Like my own. Interesting and unexpected. It's not a natural draconic ability."
"Yeeeah, it's a little, or a lot, strange. Sometimes it moves on its own. Or travels. Becomes things. Mom said because it's partly alive, because Gwen inherited more of mom's magic than any of us, and that's Creation and Life. Mom says Gwen's full of the stuff, and something else she's not sure of. Aunt Gwyndrael said she wasn't quite sure either, but she said about as much as her fire. You surely know this but dragons are embodiments of Life, right? And so is Pheeny -- The Phoenix. So Gwen's two dragons, one of us, and a bit of the Phoenix. It's like her fire is... the ghost of something that's not alive yet? Fiera and I can sense it to some degree, we can manipulate fire too. Fiera said it feels like something that's about to happen or the anticipation of something. Me, it feels like the ghost of life future." Fiera nods; Gweneth also nods, though she may just be copying Fiera.
"It's a bit of spirit with intent," Kainudy says. "It's different depending on that intent. My flame of life is white. There are other colors, for different things. Black is death, of course, if you couldn't guess," she notes, gesturing to her halo. "All a side effect of having an extra soul, in my case. Though I know Kai and Galatea can manifest it too. In any case, you two don't need to stay if you don't want to. I think Gweneth and I will have a lot to discuss and learn about eachother before I give her an ansible."
Fiera blows a long, heavy breath from her mouth, then slaps her hands to the couch cushion and sits up. This causes Ashera to have to scramble to keep from falling off the couch, but she manages it with a long practiced ease that suggests this happens often. "Well, it's been fun," Fiera states. She seems to think better of leaving it at that, however, and adds, "We -- I'm sorry for overreacting. W- I knew this might happen. We'll do better. But, maybe you're right. Maybe it's time we stopped trying to be mother. I'm not looking forward to telling her she's right, though. Or getting back. I think I'll take a walk around the garden outside before heading back. Thanks for the tea. Don't break our little sister or I'm coming back for you." But Fiera grins, with great effort. She still looks strained, but's clearly trying. Then she pushes herself up, bows, and starts heading for the stairs.
Ashera lingers, spreading her hands in a what can you do shrug as Fiera walks off. "Sorry about h-... Nevermind that. I'm sorry. You're right. I guess we didn't want to see it. Can't lose. Destiny. It hurts, a lot. But we've got each other, and everyone else, and maybe it'll be nice not to spend every day trying to live up to mother's legacy. Me, I'm going to use it as an excuse to change my coursework. Let's see mom argue with that." She grins, more well adjusted than Fiera, and then stands. "Thanks for the tea and to listening to us. Sorry about the hubris. You should visit some time -- mom keeps saying you should. Anyway, ciao draghi." Gweneth gets a hug as Ashera passes, then the ashen winged wolfess is walking towards the balcony on the opposite end of the spire.
"Well," Kainudy says to Gweneth, "what do you want to learn first?"
Gweneth waves to the departing sisters, then hops in her seat until she's back facing Kainudy, scone in mouth. The answer is as immediate as it is overwhelming. Water flows along sphere which is a donut which contains itself unto a loop and all of it is the sun at the center of the self, there in the sky, the light of all without. In a word:
Everything.