#shining comet

The Crystal Exarch drew his staff in a half circle, and the image zoomed out once more to show the two of them walking sedately through the forest of Rak’tika. The Light dappled through the trees in slow moving waves that always seemed so sinfully lazy; even nigh on a century of the golden waves it never stopped being so tempting to simply curl up underneath a beam that stretched through the canopy. 

Emet-Selch had his hand tucked in her arm as demurely as any gentle noblewoman, his other hand lifting up the hem of his robes, and it was with some surprise that the Exarch realized how careful he was to step around the blue flowers that lay along the path to Fannow. 

“Yes, my dear?” Emet-Selch asked. “You know, if you wished to get me alone for more, hm, intimate purposes, you should’ve asked me sooner.” 

Shining laughed softly, a tinkling sound that buzzed through the Tower’s systems. “Hardly. You are not my type, Emet-Selch. Though I do appreciate your love of theater.” 

“Like recognizes like,” Emet chuckled. “Two peas in a pod we are, are we not?” 

“Debatable, but I shall let you have this,” Shining said, with a devious twist to her lips. “Now, as to why I wished to speak with you…” 

“I take it this is about your sister?” Emet-Selch asked politely. 

“Oh, look at you, you do have a brain somewhere in those coiffed locks of yours,” Shining chuckled, and stopped them in the middle of a clearing, surrounded by wildflowers. “Do you prefer to lead or follow?” 

The Ascian was quiet for just a touch too long, and the Exarch wished once again for a clearer picture, if only to see the expression that must have been flitting across Emet’s face. He really needed to upgrade the Tower’s systems if he was to keep spying on the Warriors Three in such a way. 

“This isn’t a test, Emet,” she said with no small amusement. “I’m not about to analyze you on your dancing habits.” 

“Yet that is precisely what someone who would analyze me would say,” Emet sighed, but assumed a follower’s position among the two of them, with Shining’s hand resting lightly on his waist. 

The Exarch ruthlessly squashed down the feeble feeling that niggled in his chest at the sight. 

The two of them, Warrior and Ascian, stepped into a fluid dance that kicked up petals among the flowers with the hems of their clothing. It was a waltz of some kind that the Exarch didn’t recognize, but he set the Tower to record as Shining twirled Emet around with ease, and did not react to the soft smile flitting across Emet’s lips. There was no music, which surprised the Exarch, given Shining’s predilection for such things, but it meant that he could hear their conversation clearly. 

“So, my sister,” Shining said pleasantly. 

“Which one?” Emet replied, just as genial. 

“Don’t play coy with me, Solus, you’re not cute,” Shining said, and her voice was just shy of being sharp. “You look at Nive as if she were a diamond in some pigsty. Enticing, yet you cannot bring yourself to get close. Who was she to you?” 

“Bold,” Emet said, but did not deny the accusation. “And why should I tell you? Can a man not keep secrets close to his chest?” 

“You can,” Shining agreed pleasantly, and when she twirled Emet around once more she dipped him. 

There was a flash of light that short circuited the Tower’s recording magic, yet the sound of Emet’s pained gasp was all too loud in the void. 

“But I will not let you entice her away from her duty,” Shining’s sibilant cadence slithered through the woods, undercut by birdsong and the omnipresent sound of the Light. “And you know this, you’re a smart man. You would not have lived so long otherwise. So why is it, Emet-Selch, that you are so dead set on leading her astray?” 

The scrying spell slowly repaired itself, pixel by distorted pixel, and another half circle of the Exarch’s staff zoomed in on the conversation. She held him under her power, dipped towards the forest floor and the blooming blue blossoms, his hair a haphazard disarray as he panted for breath. It almost looked scandalous, with how his chest heaved and the way her larger hand cradled the arch of his back. But the glimmering Light from her palm, the way her eyes flashed and distorted the image, twas anything but. 

“... I knew her.” He said, finally. “A color such as that stands out, does it not?” 

“... That it does,” Shining agreed, and spun them to be upright once more, with him collapsing against her chest at the sudden movement. She made no move to dislodge him and simply waited for him to catch his breath, her fingers gently smoothing his hair back from his face. The scrying panel flickered once more, and the Exarch could see how her nail traced a line of Light from Emet’s temple to his jaw. A jaw that flexed dangerously under her touch. 

“You are quite bold,” Emet-Selch repeated, and sounded almost bored. 

“I am what I need to be,” Shining responded. “Consider this your only warning. Nive and Helisent might think that your overtures of friendship and cooperation could be genuine, but will not be swayed. Are we clear?” 

“You wish me to stop,” Emet-Selch chuckled. 

“Hardly,” Shining said, and her Light-burning eyes squinted in mirth. “Merely be prepared for the consequences.” 

“Very well. I do so enjoy a challenge,” Emet-Selch said, and pulled back to place his hand on her shoulder once more. “Shall we continue? It’s been many years since I’ve had the pleasure.” 

“But of course.” The Warrior of Light said, and did not bother to hide her bell like laugh. 

The Exarch tapped his staff against the floor, and the image went dark. He did not afford himself jealousy. It would not aid him.