ᴅᴀᴍɴᴇᴅ / ᴅᴇʟɪᴠᴇʀᴇʀ ⁽ᵃᵖ⁾

[ TONGUE. ]  gave a satisfied click from the once-Emperor.  His own gilded gaze set to rest upon a hound’s own features now marred by the fires of conflict & throes of treachery.  His own gaze belied much of his spirit & much of what he already knew.  Ascians within the royal family.  T’was them who puppeteered entire conflicts from the shadows.  & thus to PERFECTION did the Architect play his own part.  The very thought left a self-satisfied grin upon darkened lips upturned, yet alone for whom stood in his presence.      “Gaius van Baelsar.  Ah yes, I do remember you.       The loyal hound to the seat of the throne.       An old FRIEND if I could call you that.”  Words marked with a hum as still he watched e’er careful.  Should rumor be right, Lahabrea had spurned the man into bile & vitriol against ancient’s own kin.  Devastating to his last & marked to failure in a BRILLIANT blaze.  Like fire e’er would he be & like fire did Lahabrea’s life come to a close as it burnt to its last.  Gaius was such LEGACY from the ashes & remnants the Speaker left after.   & as fire did he set about a rippling change that marked Emet-Selch’s own imminent return.

[ DARK. ]  brows knit upon the tune that the other’s words fell upon.  With such did the gilded tones flicker & rest upon the features of a woman draped in garish hues.  How very jarring.  For what WISDOM slid past her lips was clashed with her particularly irritating appearance.  But for what was given, a smile was returned in kind for the Ascian quietly enjoyed such irony.  A wise man dressed the part of a fool.  She would be ENDEARING if it were not for just how far her choice in attire went.  He had to wonder if she were only playing a role or if she was a deeply damaged individual.

[ BUT. ]  why did she hum such wisdom to him of all?  Just what had driven this PERPLEXING creature to his very presence?  Questioned burned at the back of the Ancient's mind; begging & gnawing to spill forth.  Curiosity, in the end, proved to be Emet-Selch’s better & thus did darkened lips part & heave sigh.     “You are far from incorrect.  Lies are hidden in every well-meaning word,     but why does one such as you warn a man like me of such?     Or could it be perhaps a criticism of how I carry my own?     Do enlighten me or perhaps you’ve questions of your own.”  Still, his gaze lingered & yet narrowed.  To watch ever carefully.  His company was rather unlike those he had met in his years.  She was unplaceable & DRAMATIC but much & more spoke of a buried wisdom & knowledge born of years beyond her own.     “Better yet, before we traverse these harrowing subjects,      just who are you?  It is terribly uncouth to advise one      without knowing just whom it is for      so perhaps proper introductions would be for the best.”

“I wasn’t too terribly late was I, hero?  You look hale & hearty to me."  @stygiae​

“Actually, you were right on time, Emet-Selch.” Does she seem happy about that for once? “I’m grateful that you came, thank you. I daresay without you, that fight would’ve been over before it really began.”

@kinships·

She finds herself wandering back to the Tempest, back to the shade of a city now long gone. Into the quiet streets of ghosts reliving their last days before the end of a world. She doesn’t really know what brings her back, maybe to explore before it vanishes completely. The Warrior of Darkness finds herself at Achora Heights, overlooking the ghost of a city, wondering why it felt so familiar to her and so sad.

Idly she finds herself humming, a habit she did when she had nothing to occupy her time or as she worked on her weapons or crafting. It’s not a song from F’lhaminn, or from her time traveling with her father. She doesn’t remember the lyrics, but the melody feels like it’s been ingrained in her mind, or her soul, whichever.

She plays with the hem of her skirt as she hums, watching the sun above the city filter through the ocean above. It was still odd, how there’s just an air bubble, and once it went away, if the city hadn’t yet that would surely destroy the buildings. It would be a pity; she thinks that the city would go away soon. Maybe if she had the time, she would come back again before then. The humming echoes through the dead silence of a dead civilization, Azee almost unawares of her surroundings, eyes shut and simply soaking in the atmosphere.

[ MELODY. ]  rang clear & filled the lonesome perch with a LIVELINESS that such had not seen in o’er thousands of ear.  A familiar tune that tore the drifting soul’s attention & drew him to what was once home.  To an illusion & farce he created to sow sparks of memory to rekindle & set the warrior alight against the lies their vaunted mother crystal uttered on words so sweet.  & o’ ALIGHT they were but far beyond the Architect's ken.  Baleful & wretched light that tore through him akin to o’ holy judgement.  Sensation of burning still ran its course through him even far beyond his near end & survival.  Digits instinctively clutched at the cloth at his chest as nails dug beneath & pressed past to tender skin.  A pain he wished not to recall yet e’er haunts his aching frame.  With time however, soft a song lulled the Ascian from his scars & to the sights before once again.

[ HER. ]  champion set peacefully against the rocky edge overlooking his city.  Words bubbling forth but refraining from spilling past darkened lips.  So she did mourn.  Relief or a sense of joy knowing she suffered the same as he, regardless Emet felt his heart quicken.  Though what momentary mirth turned sour upon his tongue.  Even if Her champion held the capacity to REMEMBER just as he asked she’d still remain a broken thing.  Joy to sorrow in but a fleeting moment & with it his gaze narrowed.  As much as she was like Phaedra, this warrior differed so greatly.  How the Ascian cursed the irony that was his return & thus to this sight.  As if to taunt & toy with his emotions this trial yet again sank his heart & with his he dare push back what heart he had left lest he become a broken man.  Denial was his only recourse.

[ LASHES. ]  fluttered open as a sigh slip past stained lips.  A familiar timbre of a FRIEND swept away by the ages rang out.  One such that struck the Ancient as odd as what once he lazed upon he was now VIGILANT.  How own darkened brows drew up as jaw fell slack.  Surely this was a trick; a sick fantasy his mind played to quell the deafening silence.  True as it may have been that Emet-Selch had recreated his home to the last detail but what lay before him was an impossibility.

[ MIND. ]  raced with a myriad of thoughts.  Mem’ry of the FIERY creation within Ayander’s halls bubbled to the forefront.  Could such have repeated?  Truly the Ascian was overzealous in the recreation, but to have a product such as this.  Had he truly longed & ached so deeply on one?  Head shook as what hope was dashed just as it bloomed in a stubborn refusal.  He’d not soften for this phantom & certainly not for an idle & fruitless hope that’d just leave the man scarred & aching.  But this apparition was not to his GRAND designs.  True that it may be that Hythlodaeus was & perceptive & more oft than not Hades’ better, but this drew to the line of SAPIENCE.