Swan Song (Rickter)

[Paragon]

P A R A G O N

For a long stretch of silence, the golden god stared down at the three mortals assembled before him. His gaze was unrelenting. It saw them for the whole of who they were. What he thought of what he saw however, remained a mystery as he showed no outward sign of his thoughts. Some imperceptible signal must have passed between him and the others as the robed figure stepped forward only slightly. He gave a bow, extending one skeletal hand toward Franky.

“My King, this one has tasted the Wine of Suffering, my most hallowed of gifts. He invoked my name and made his offer. It is an offer that I cannot ignore, nor will I refuse. Our sister contests its legitimacy.” His voice was like a rasp as though the very act of speaking was an enormous effort that caused him great suffering. The King’s gaze did not shift at his speaking, it yet remained fixed upon the mortals before him. Nevertheless, it was clear he had been listening. As the robed figure, who could be none but Malgar, dropped his hand it was the first speaker who stepped forward then. The woman whose very presence seemed to speak of things decided and things impossible.

“My King, we know the threat that grows in the Deeps. Our brother has interfered without merit. He knew of my efforts to keep us out of this, you know the consequence of our interference. He knew of my weaving. He intervened and now has forced himself into the weave to enact suffering for his own glory. There was no freedom in this choice for them.” She gestured almost pleadingly toward the mortals adjacent to her. “He forced their hand. This tragedy, while terrible, was woven by mortal hands. They made their choices, free of our urging, just as is their right to do. They should have been given the freedom to unweave it by their own hand as well.”

She looked back at them, all three of them, and there was such unfiltered wonder in her gaze. Wonder at them. An adoration for the mortals before her was abundantly evident just as it was clear she carried a deeper sadness.

“I made no such interference, my King. You know well the bargain I struck with this one.” Malgar gestured to Franky. Those words, for the first time, elicited a reaction from the King. There was a tightening of his jaw but nothing else. “As for that one…”

Malgar pointed to Rickter.

“He has promises yet unfulfilled. Ones that are tied to the offer made to me.” Malgar dropped his hand. It was then that the gnarled beauty spoke.

“A claim that I contest, my King.” Her voice was alluring and unsettling. The gnarled goddess that was both stunning and terrifying spoke. To hear a thing of such lyrical beauty come from a thing that was both twisted and beautiful was unnerving. “That one continues to use and benefit from the gift I gave so long ago. Does that not take precedence?”

“He is Soul Marked. He bears not one, but two Emblems. There is another who holds yet greater claim than you, sweet sister.” The man of fire spoke then. “He invoked the Old Words. He did not invoke them correctly, but he invoked them all the same. We all know who he truly meant to seek but his failure has thrust him into my purview, as is the Law.”
He narrowed his eyes. The twisted beauty spoke again.

“Ah, but the Law is only binding if there is not another with greater hold.” Eyes formed in the inky black web that flowed around her head. They all peered at the three mortals before blinking as one and vanishing back into the swirling mass.

“As for that one,” The fiery god tilted his head toward Dante. “Well, he has made a promise to all assembled.”

The goddess of fate moved to speak but the King held up his hand, silencing anything further. He was quiet as his gaze bored into the gathered mortals before him until finally, for the first time since any of them had laid eyes upon him, he blinked.

“Speak your minds.”

[Franky]

Franky watched and Franky learned, paying attention to the decorum given. They spoke in facts, not emotion, even if the Woman of Fate displayed it. They gave respect and deference where it was due. Franky saw the tightening of the King's jawline as Malgar spoke of the agreement he and Franky had made prior. A deal so heavy that it caused a reaction in the Dragon King. The weight of that alone was not lost on Franky.

It seemed that the arguement centered around Franky was that Malgar had intervened in a way that was not considered allowable for a god. That he had taken away Franky's ability to choose his own destiny. The latter argument seemed to be around Rickter's serving of multiple masters and who had the greatest claim in this instance.

Franky's steel mind honed, to keep the emotion out of the words he chose, to keep it upon his face and nowhere else. He stepped a half step forward, eyes on the King. Speak of truths, not misdirections, not lies, not weak attempts of persuasion. He thought about thanking the King for bringing him here for this trial, as it were, but the severity of it all felt that idea fall flat. His hands came out in front of him, moving as he spoke, for they always did when he was speaking in a manner that was not simple supplicating of a superior. This was a man who had no superior, not any longer.

He was a man who was also lost in the twisting battlefields of the machinations of mortals and divine.

"I apologize first, for my lack of understanding of the laws that govern the divine. I will do my best to not be so ignorant so that you may reach your best decision." Words spoken directly to Eikaen. "It seems that Malgar is accused of interfering without merit. Of taking away my ability to choose my own destiny." As he spoke, his hands were indicating now to the robed god, but in turn now began toward his accuser. "I am a simple man. I know not of this threat in the Deeps, as you say, except." His eyes narrowed in shrewdness, "Unless perhaps it is one of the evils mentioned to me when Galetira came to me, asking for my help in freeing Arcas."

Franky's hands dropped softly now, not animated, speaking to the King directly once more, "Before I delve into whether I was robbed of a choice, know this much. If the Fortuneteller was acting on behalf of Her, then by my estimation, Malgar and Her have both approached me in equal amounts. One came with a warning and a plea, the other with an offer and a gift." He let that hang in the air for a bit, an accusation of equal amounts of meddling, regardless of morality.

"If Galetira had not approached me first, I dare suggest that Malgar would not have even known to make his offer, one that, while I know not his intentions directly, do not conflict directly with that offered by the Seer."

Franky swallowed, "You wish to know if I had a choice in all of this? To know if I have been robbed, deceived, steered in a way that is not my own?"

Franky's eyes grew stern now, fierce upon the King's gaze, "No. My choices are my own. They always have been and they always will be."

"I chose to serve the Imperium as a soldier. I chose to wage in the Imperium's wars. I chose to kill the woman I love to end a war claiming so many more souls. I chose to leave the Imperium after I was abandoned by them. I chose to answer the Imperium's call upon my doorstep once more. I chose to aid those who kidnapped Arca. I chose to meddle in the affairs of the divine in this way." His gaze darkened, growing fiercer, "I chose to answer Galetira's plea to save Arcas. I chose to answer Malgar's offer to feed the Wine of Suffering to Arcas. And I chose to give up everything that makes me mortal, that makes me Franky of Zaichaer, Frankorg of Risea, in order to have the slightest of attempts at saving a handful of those I care for. It is suggested that I had my choice taken from me?"

A pause, "You Gods may be able to strike me down, may be able to sunder my world apart, to offer me life anew, treasures unimaginable," chin up, hands slipping behind his back once more into the stance of the soldier, "But you can never take away my choice."

And with that, Franky took his half step back to his original position.

[Rickter]

Swan Song

Searing 34, 122, 122nd Year, A.o.S.

Rickter could feel the eyes of the Gods upon them, all three of them, and yet that didn't stop him from feeling as if they saw right through him also. He felt completely and utterly bare in this realm here, unable to hide even a shred of his mortal coil within this place. How could he when his heart had always been his guide? His emotions and temperament often his weapon. Here there was nothing that felt too private for the Gods to glean off of them, and Rickter's own soul felt contested by this seeing as how each and every Diety here had something to say.

The Robed Diety rasped as he beckoned his skeletal hand near Franky, a sudden rise of temper in Rickter's spine as he almost wanted to protect the Hobgoblin. In just the short span of time they had spent together, particularly within the last few days, he had seen so many colors of this man in his own time. Who else but Rickter could dare defend a comrade such as him, even from one of the Gods and their little spiel over him. Apparently Franky had made a choice on his own, likely whatever his plan had been during the rise into the Rift. But the mention of this WIne of Suffering, had Franky really intended to drink it from the start? Was that why he needed Rickter to breach the very heavens of the Aetherium?

The contest of legitimacy was between Him and the dark-skinned Deity as She quickly rebutted Him, insisting about some threat within 'the Deep' which struck a chord in Rickter. There was only ever one Deep he grew up knowing about and that had been the Warrens. Had there been a threat prevalent this whole time? Was that what Briathor IV was referring to when he'd passed the clockwork key onto Rickter? Even here the panic he would've felt had been burned away, his breathing steady as his thoughts collectively worked in tandem for once. For what consequence did they have with interfering, however? The wolf failed to understand even that much, believing it was the God's own design to orchestrate the awful events that had taken place on Ailizane.

The talk of Weave left Rickter to wonder the womanly deity's identity then, having heard similar talk of Vicis and how she'd weaved her Tapestries of Fate. He never once believed he'd ever meet her, let alone, be at the center of all her wonder before sadness filled her eyes. There used to be such anger in him toward her now, so much so that he would've given anything to insult her at this very moment. Yet he did not. As loathsome as his hubris would've been at the time, the wolf had felt much of himself burned away once they'd crossed the Rift. The pain. The anger. And... the sorrow. Much of what kept Rickter in check with himself before, the walls as he would've described, were no longer present to hide behind either. Clearly, every emotion ever he had could be read by the Divine Beings within this very room.

Bullshit... He thought of as a response to Malgar's denial of interference. Even if a bargain had been struck between him and the Hobgoblin, Rickter refused to believe that the Robed Diety hadn't gone out his way to cornering Franky. It was when that same bony finger pointed at Rickter that the wolf's eyes widened, his breath quickening as he felt a ghastly fear sink into his shoulders. Promises. Who else in this Gods riddled kingdom did the wolf have promises to keep to? It was easy to reflect on the first of many that Rickter had taken in, that which being the quest to seek out what would be his Legacies. The blades Oathkeeper and Oblivion... Then the Echo... And then Alistor... One thing led to another but the path was never clear, and just when he'd finally found a means of getting answers.

Then the Gnarled Diety spoke and it produced mixed feelings in the wolf, some of them comfort while the rest were complete of dread. The fact every fiber in his being shivered from her words unnerved him, as he couldn't help but ponder what this 'gift' she had provided. Could it be? That burdening dread sank in when he realized the possibility, and what exactly Tiberius had done in order to gain such a power. Why? What were his motives? The questions never ended.

The Burning Diety weighed in pointing out the Emblem of Eminence on his arm, or rather his Soul even, as Rickter didn't even budge to bear down on the mark. He knew. Without a shadow of a doubt, he knew he belonged to another, and the fact he hadn't been able to show must've been related to the Imperium. Yes. He invoked those Old Words out of desperation, and yes, he did attempt to alter their incantation in a moment of dire need. Were those the jist of his crimes here? Or was there perhaps something greater at play he hadn't comprehended?

The Burning Diety deeply unsettled Rickter to a degree his skin crawled, a rise of jitters came to his arms as he steadied his breathing before the Gods. He failed and so now that placed him in Akrivar's purview, leaving the wolf to gulp hard before Dante was next to be addressed. He who had foolishly brought himself up here with the two, and now had promised himself to the power of not one... but five magnificent Deities at large. When the DragonGod King moved to prevent the rest of the Deities from speaking, offering the floor to the three mortals present with a single order. Speak their minds? Thankfully, Franky was the first of them to go, a chance that allowed the wolf to gather his thoughts collectively.

So much was going on now, too much for him to hold onto immediately, but from what he could connect Rickter was learning. Of the role he played in the grand scheme of things, and of the legacies that connected so far back to the one man he probably despised the most. Franky first apologized for his lack of understanding with the laws between divinity, a mutually expressed feeling as Rickter very much thought the same. It was the Hobgoblin's patient and determined demeanor, the level of authority he possessed in and of himself that led the wolf to still the quakes in his soul. He found confidence being near Franky for some reason, even if he also had to learn of Franky's recent involvement with this whole plot.

Galetira came to Franky as well, a shocker, given it was Rickter she'd come to when Talon first died... and then ascended as a Draegir within the Warrens. This meant in hindsight the Deity of Fate had a hand in this as well, having drawn Franky into a bigger plot by attempting to free the man that Rickter loved. Talon... Arcas... He couldn't help but wonder where the lines ended, perhaps even blurred, between the two identities that were at play here now. How could two separate things bear such tremendous importance in the lives of separate mortals? There was clearly something missing here for the wolf to connect. Nonetheless he felt for Franky and his situation in this scenario, understanding the levity the Hobgoblin likely felt when approached by these Deities. Malgar certainly so more direct than Vicis, but all the same, still completely influenced by their Grand Designs.

Yet Franky stood by his own choices in spite of all this, determined to accept whatever punishment may come as a result of it. Such valor. Franky truly had the makings of a real leader in the wolf's eyes, probably why Rickter found such easy confidence after he listened to the man speak. Then came the revelations of the Hobgoblin's involvement, a startling surprise that led Rickter to eye the man with a sense of betrayal in turn. He... WHAT? He helped those who took Talon?! A flare of anger might've resonated in his soul just then, but even here, the wolf had no real power to enforce such reactions. Just the ever lingering feeling of hurt in his heart, surrounded by the peaceful clarity he felt ever since arriving at this place. Franky's actions beyond that went above beyond the call of a mortal, hell the call of a man, as one by one his actions led up to this moment in time.

Despite the anger he likely felt in the waking world, Rickter could somehow understand and let go of that here. He understood the motivations behind his companion's actions, even so much the sacrifice he had been ready to make, now that Rickter heard firsthand the tale of Franky of Zaichaer. "And I stand by his principles." Rickter weighed in after a pause of silence, allowing Franky to be done with his opinion on the matter. "I chose to serve as the bodyguard to a Draegir. I chose to protect something that was greater than me." Finally the wolf lifted himself off his one knee, standing tall with his hands balled into fists before the five within the room.

"I know you all can see into our hearts. I know every last one of you has seen the life each of us has led up til now." Honestly he suspected but Rickter had no way of actually knowing, other than the belief that the Divines themselves were supposedly omniscient in their domains. "I've known suffering throughout my entire life. People have left. People have even died. So when I finally found the few who dared to stay, I made it an effort to stay by their side no matter the cost. Whatever promises I've made I've made them on my own terms, and have endeavored to keep them in my own time."

Rickter looked heavily to the Robed Deity and then to the Gnarled Deity in turn. "Whatever promises my forebearer have made are not my own. Nonetheless, I have accepted them, and the responsibility of his Legacy. With and without direction. So, if my failure to uphold recent promises has gotten me here... then I accept the responsibility of that failure entirely." He glared at Eikaen next but rather with an indirect stare, as he hadn't forgotten those moments spent meeting Arcas upon Talon's ascension. "But let me tell you this... As a father of two children, I am most crossed with all of you. Every last one. What kind of parent is forced to choose between their destiny and their loved ones? What kind of father... leaves his own son to be abducted and tortured by others?"

Rickter clenched his jaw then as he beheld a similarly spiteful look from moments before his life had ended. "It makes me sick to think all of you fight over scrapped morsels such as us, when it's us that has to take the shit and try to sort out the affairs of whatever you created. If taking destiny into my own hands in those final moments has earned your ire, then so be it, I will gladly march unto oblivion if it means fighting for another chance at protecting what matters most."

He thought to apologize but the fire in his gut burned brilliantly once more, his eyes never once leaving the DragonGod King as he rested his hands at the small of his back. "Promises or not, I am a man intent on keeping them all. I will never stray from the Path of Dawn." Not ever again. Not like he had almost done when he reached Zaichaer. His mind had been cleared before now, and with his heart set on these principles, the wolf stood firm to let the pause carry onto Dante next. He knew his own values as well as his heart, thus, Rickter felt determined now more than ever to carve out his own Fate.

In this life... or the next.

"Every side attacks you when you don't pick sides."

"Common" "Synskrit" "Norvaegan"
"Rickter"

[Dreyfus]

☬ The Vampyre ☬

☬ 34th of Searing, Year 122, A.o.S ☬
Company: Rickter & Franky & the Gods | Thoughts: So they are real | Mood: Awe-struck, Curious

☬ A lot was being spoken between Franky & Rickter, and as they spoke of their choices and whether or not they were robbed of said choice. Dante listened to both men and found that they were both far more courageous than he was and his intentions. He could admire these two for their resolve, for standing firm in what they believe despite being face to face with the very beings who shaped the universe.

When Rickter was finished, it fell to Dante to speak his peace, and he wasn't truly sure where to even begin. Looking around, the vampyre looked at the towering figures of divinity with eyes that seemed to waver, only to steel themselves in what the vampyre was about to say. Looking at the golden one, his eyes narrowed. They were told to speak their minds, so he would speak without regret or apology. "Before this moment, I believed you all were nothing more than a fairytale told by the masses to explain what couldn't be comprehended. You'll have to forgive me if I don't show the proper respect to you." he began, looking to Rickter & Franky before continuing.

"That being said, I too must agree with my companions as well. My choices, even up till now have been my own. I chose to join an order that oppressed me for being a mage. I chose to protect people who would no sooner burn me at the stake. I chose to shed my mortality to become something beyond human. I also chose to plan my revenge on that same city, to kill any and all who stood in my way." he looked at all four divine beings as he paused, taking a step forward.

"I admit that I'm not as morally upstanding as Rickter, or as resolute as Franky, but I know that I am the master of my own destiny. I lived far too long under the boot and heel of the choices and mandates of others and given my new lease on life as a vampyre, I would no sooner rip my own soul from my body than allow anyone, mortal or divine make or influence my choices. For such grand divine beings, you all are no different than us."

His eyes held a passion in them, a fire of frustration, anger, astonishment, and fear, fear that despite all of this, it could be the end of everything. "Even you all made choices. The choice to leave us to our own devices, the choice to meddle in our affairs, be it directly or indirectly, in person or through a proxy, the choice to bicker amongst each other over old customs and laws, and the choice to shy away from those who share your blood." he glared at the golden god with the last words.

Taking a step back he sighed, rubbing the temples of his skull. "All I'm saying is that it doesn't matter if this all came about as a result of one's choice or the forcing of it, what matters is that right now a huge scar has enveloped innocent lives. The choice remains of what becomes of this mess now, not who interfered where. If I have to I'll stand by my choice to return the favor you bestowed on me, hell I'll even take on the burden of these two and their choices, but I ask that you chose now, at this moment. Whether or not you will help us insignificant mortals or not."

With that he fell back in line with Franky & Rickter, arms crossed over his chest as he held his gaze on the one being in the room who seemed to hold the deciding power among the rest of the gods present. The Vampyre was certain he would be killed for his words, but he stood by his choice to speak his mind. ☬

---

"Common Speech"
"Silandris Speech"
"Self-Thoughts"

---

[S E T T I N GxxT H E M E]

[Paragon]

P A R A G O N

The King was still as he listened, a statue that had their full attention. He had an outward reaction only twice during their speeches. The first was when Rickter inferred that he had abandoned his son. There was a slight flexing of the jaw. One of his hands tightened. It was clear that the King had many thoughts on that matter, thoughts he kept to himself. When Dante insinuated something similar, the King’s eyes narrowed very slightly and that hand clenched even tighter. Even the other gods stiffened slightly at the overt insult but when the King made no further reaction, the moment passed. When all of them had spoken, he was staring at them steadily.

“Scrapped morsels?” One brow ached. “Insignificant?”

The King shook his head.

“Do you not know how wondrous you are?” He sighed and brought a hand to the bridge of his nose pinching it in a manner that would be incredibly familiar to Rickter. When he lowered his hand, he looked to the Goddess of Fate.

“The choices have been made.” The goddess closed her eyes. She dipped low, bowing her head.

“As you say, my King. As I have heard. They have spoken and though it pains me, I will honor them. I withdraw my claim.” She gave another bow as the King inclined his head. Quietly she backed away until she was a respectable distance then turned and took her leave. Before she fully departed however, she turned, concern written upon her face. “You know what this means.”

“I do.” It had not been a question but the King responded anyways. The goddess of fate lingered for a moment. The gnarled goddess bowed her head. The robed god clasped his hands together. The fiery god looked away. Some silent communication passed between the King and the departing goddess as she bowed her head then took off in a different direction than the one she was originally headed. The further away she walked the more translucent she became until she faded completely. The King turned his gaze to the gnarled goddess and the fiery god who both stepped forward.

“Rickter.” The King spoke the wolf’s name aloud. It was touched with fondness, exasperation, kindness and annoyance. “He attempted to invoke an old oath. However, he did not do so correctly.”

The fiery god nodded. The gnarled beauty had no outward reaction.

“As it stands, neither of you has a claim in this instance.” That seemed to shock the two gods.

“My King?” It was the gnarled beauty who spoke. The King stared down at both of them steadily.

“Was it not you, Akrivar, who pointed out that he is twice marked?” The fiery god blinked.

“The oath--” The King interrupted him.

“Was invoked wrong. The Law is clear in this instance in that the god who has greatest sway over the mortal’s soul may then step in to claim it.” The King leaned forward, his voice dropping low and a flash of anger passing over his handsome features. “And as my son cannot come to me to speak on this mortal’s behalf, that right falls to me. Do you contest my claim, brother?”

There was a beat of silence before the fiery god bowed his head.

“No, my King. I see the error. I withdraw my claim.” The fiery god bowed and backed away from the King’s throne. Like the goddess of fate, he turned and began walking away until he faded from the throne room. That left the gnarled beauty and the Malgar. The King looked to Myshala expectantly.

“I would request to know the King’s intentions.” The King nodded and turned his gaze back to the mortals before him.

“Rickter. Dante.” He spoke their names and as before, it was with a startling familiarity, as though he knew them down to their bones. “The two of you have a choice. I will return you to the mortal realm and you may move forward with your lives. You are not free from oaths you have made prior to this, that is a path you must walk on your own. I have simply chosen to accept your offer in this case, as mine to fulfill. Your other choice? To move on.”

He looked to Franky then.

“You have pledged yourself, body, mind and soul to another. You did so of your own volition.” He gestured to Malgar. “It falls to Malgar to determine your fate.”

Malgar did not hesitate.

“I have already decided, my King.” The robed god quirked his covered head. Franky would be able to feel the weight of that divine gaze upon his soul. “I accept your offer, freely given, and shall reward you in kind as you asked.”

With that, Malgar and the Gnarled Goddess both bowed and took their leave of the throne room. That left the three mortals and the King. He stared at them, more specifically he stared at Rickter and Dante.

“What do you choose?”

[Franky]

Franky was silent, listening and watching as Rickter and Dante took their turns. He couldn't fully follow Rickter's words, there seemed to be a lot to unpack there. But it seemed Rickter was choosing to go with the emotional direction, to play to the gods' emotions. Which after seeing the tightening of Eikaen's jaw earlier, Franky knew existed. However, it turned into a personal attack, from them both, on the Dragon King. That was... a bold choice. And one that Franky could see from the reactions of all the gods there, was a risky one.

But the Dragon King seemed to display more emotional discipline than his accusers. Thankfully.

And Franky heard the sigh in the King's voice, he could feel the respect the Dragon King had for mortals. He ruled over Gods, but he loved the mortals. Truly. He truly looked to be a father handling the tantrum of small children right now. And with that, She left, conceding her accusation against Malgar. Franky showed this with a slight unclenching of his jaw. With Malgar uncontested now, it gave room for him to consider Franky's offer.

Franky listed carefully to the speaking between the King and Akrivar, studying just how these oaths and rules might work in this court. There was so much more that Franky would need to learn moving forward. And he would. He'd seen behind the curtain now, he knew there was more to this world than the, now, seemingly petty politics of mortals. But Franky could hear more there. He could hear a deep desire for Arcas to be freed. The King's son.

That was interesting. Freeing Arcas could yield many debts, from very powerful forces. Most interesting.

The Dragon King made his decision and was now speaking to them, the mortals. The other two were being released, not bound to anyone. And Malgar accepted Franky's offer. Franky bowed his head in thanks to the god, knowing what this could mean moving forward. But he was a man of his word, and a man who would always follow through with the choices he made. He still owed debts, and forever would to Malgar.

And he would pay them all.

He lifted his head once more, eyes on the King, waiting for his companions to make their decisions, and move forward to stopping this destruction in his home.

[Rickter]

Swan Song

Searing 34, 122, 122nd Year, A.o.S.

Rickter's gaze widened a bit at the words Dante had to say, a little surprised that he flat-out just addressed the Gods the way he had done. Granted, the wolf hadn't any room to worry on Dante's behalf, as he had shared his own thoughts on the ordeal between the mortal three and the assembled Five. Rickter however had his own reasons for it, and learned much when he gauged the reactions of the ones present before them.

King Eikaen beheld a reaction of perplexity from the looks of their choice of words, the wolf's gaze narrowing for a moment as he observed a familiar gesture he'd seen several times before. It seemed the apple didn't fall too far from the heavenly tree. But when the question was asked in reference to mortals being wondrous, there came a slight tilt to the wolf's head as he observed the Deity before them. Were they really that interesting to behold? Even now he felt like the ant compared to these divine beings, minuscule and hardly even worthy of their notoriety to begin with. And yet... Eikean regarded them with such sentiment?

When he'd brought up his outlook to the Gods Rickter hadn't ignored the irritation their King had presented, even so much as clenched a jaw after he'd observed such a reaction. And yet when it was time for the Weaver of Fate to leave, Rickter could hardly even look at her as she started to make her exit. Perhaps because of the determination still born within his heart, to overcome whatever grand design her tapestries would soon wield. For him, it had been nothing but a seed born out of chaos, and yet, the wolf felt as if he would have some very hard lessons to learn in the arduous trials ahead. The other two Deities that had come to claim his soul stepped forward now, and for a moment the wolf could only gulp hard as he waited to hear what the decision would be.

He expected a price to be paid for his actions, he did invoke a spell he had no idea existed after all. Even so much as botched it in his attempt to compensate for diminishing time... Hearing Eikaen state his name though there was an array of feelings, ones that led him to initially avert his eyes with a hint of guilt, before the shock of what the Dragongod himself declared for the other two. No claim? Somehow... Having been marked by Talon twice now had laid greater claim on his soul, and through right of proxy it was the Talon's... no, Arcas's father who served as the deciding factor for him. Immediately an exhale through his nostrils produced a sense of relief in his shoulders, the wolf warily eyeing Myshala and Akrivar both as he watched the Burning Deity take his leave soon after.

Well... Thank Gods I don't have to answer to that one. He quietly reflected upon himself as he'd nearly forgotten they were still being watched, before the wolf's blue eyes fell back upon Eikean and Myshala once more. She lingered to know what the King intended, which He then made clear when he stated his address to him and Dante both. They would have a choice now... To either go back to where they came, or simply move on into the reincarnation cycle. Wait... we have a choice? But the Path... He had believed there to be only one way forward from here, and had been so determined to do everything in his power to fight it if necessary. Yet they could go back?

He could go home. Back to where his family waited, and back to where hell was a reality, waiting for him to fight until he'd reclaimed all that he lost. Talon... Aoren... His entire pack... They would be waiting for him even now, and yet if he were to move on then wouldn't he? No. He knew the answer to that already, even he couldn't ignore the chains that bound his soul any longer. Eikaen surely could see them as well, and he likely knew just how deep Rickter's hatred of them went. One look at Franky and the wolf couldn't help but feel sad, not because of the fact Franky had acceptingly agreed to the terms he'd made... but because the reality of the situation felt far different than when they first arrived now. Franky had quickly become a friend, a good friend, for the wolf in just the short span of a few months.

And now it felt like they might not ever get to see one another again, at least, not in the same light that they once saw each other within. Malgar accepted that offer and in turn, bowed with the Gnarled Deity toward their King before they shared an exit. That left the mortals alone with the Dragongod himself, allowing the other two the opportunity to make their choice. Rickter looked to his comrades first before looking back up to Eikaen once more, the fury in his eyes replaced with a somber curiosity now that he gazed upon the Golden Deity. "King Eikaen... a moment before I carry out my decision." It wasn't like the Great Big Bastard didn't know what he intended to do already, but Rickter felt it important to say what little he had left, before the journey ahead would yet again whisk away into the unknown.

"Frank." The wolf addressed as he faced the Hobgoblin, even so much as gripped the man by his shoulder. "I don't know where to begin... I'm pissed because I hardly know ya, and yet, it feels like I've learned so much in just the time we've known one another." He complimented with a genuine smile for the Hobgoblin. "I really do hope that whatever Fate has in store... you and I will have the luck of sharing a few drinks with one another again." He then looked to Dante with a bit of irritation, before lightly chuckling in regards to the Vampyre. "And clearly you have your own death wishes... I can't say that I'm surprised anymore, though I never expected you to just throw yourself at the mercy of Gods." At that note he patted Dante on the back, a bit rough, to share the sentiments of a good friend with him too; before his eyes fell back onto Eikaen once more.

"And as for you, my King..." He wasn't really sure where these words were coming from, particularly now that he was addressing the literal King of all Dragons now. "I feel like my outlook on you has been mistaken. I still feel crossed but... seeing you now, and trying to understand your ways, I can't help but feel my sentiments too harsh earlier. For that, I apologize..." The wolf humbly bowed his head and shoulders forward for a moment, before rising once more to look at the Deity with melancholic eyes. "You already know my choice. But before I dare return, I wish for you to know that I shall endeavor to speak to you. With you even, if you'll have me, from here on until the day my presence graces you here again." He shared that with a hearty grin, knowing that he'd certainly wind up here again next time he decided to carry out another death sentence.

"And I go with one final thing. A promise to you." Rickter brought his right hand over his heart next, standing straighter than before as he proudly shared the words that would yet again bind him to another oath. "When the time comes, I will save him. For you." Not even he fully understood the length of that promise yet, but, Rickter's heart and instincts have never lied to him at all. Both had commanded him to make this promise, so that he might further endeavor to understand the God seated before him. "And with that said, I'm ready to go back now."

As he returned his hands to the small of his back, Rickter stepped back to stand evenly with his peers, his lower lip bit patiently as he waited to see what his Deity had to say next.

"Every side attacks you when you don't pick sides."

"Common" "Synskrit" "Norvaegan"
"Rickter"

[Dreyfus]

☬ The Vampyre ☬

☬ 34th of Searing, Year 122, A.o.S ☬
Company: Rickter & Franky & the Gods | Thoughts: So they are real | Mood: Awe-struck, Curious

☬ Hearing the golden one's verdict sent a chill down the spine of the vampyre. In all his new life he had never thought he would have to be beholden to a god. He valued his freedom so much that he would have never joined this endeavor if he had known this was a possible outcome. Regardless he was a man of his word and he did make a promise to return the favor. He looked to Franky as he remained silent, then to the robed one as that being faded away. The vampyre could only imagine what was in store for the hobgoblin. He could admire the fact that Franky stood by whatever came of this though, as they planned to stand by it.

When Rickter addressed him, his words caused a smile to form on Dante's lips. "What the point of being nigh indestructible if you don't have a death wish or two." he chuckled as the wolf turned his attention to the King of gods himself. The words that flowed from him caused a realization within the vampyre. He was aware that Talon had been taken prisoner, but the way both Rickter and Eikaen spoke, it became clear that Talon and Eikaen's son were one and the same. How could that be? Was Talon sent from this divine realm to take on a form that blended in with the society he came to?

Or was there more to this than he first realized? In any case, he could worry about that at a later date. It was his turn now to choose. Looking at Eikaen Dante's gaze fell onto the god with the same fiery passion that they held when he was told to speak his mind. "Know this, no matter whatever it is you wish of me, it will not derail my ambitions. I will see my vengeance on those who have wrong me, and I will build a place for my people, for the mages oppressed no matter where they may reside." He allowed that to sink in before continuing, his expression softening if only for a moment.

"As the wolf has so eloquently said, I never in all my years would have expected to have been saved by a god, let alone serve one. This has been quite an eye-opening experience for me, and for that, I must thank you. I was expecting to have been smited upon coming face to face with such forces, as I was made to believe that as a vampyre I was an afront you all. But I can tell that you dont feel that way."

Taking a knee he bowed to Eikaen, eyes closed in a show of reverence, granted he wasnt sure if this was the proper way to even show respect to these beings, but he did so anyway. Standing he stood in line with Rickter and Franky, hands clasped together with a genuine smile on his face.

"I wish to go home as well." ☬

---

"Common Speech"
"Silandris Speech"
"Self-Thoughts"

---

[S E T T I N GxxT H E M E]

[Paragon]

P A R A G O N

The Dragon King regarded both Rickter and Dante quietly as though he were contemplating their words. Finally, he nodded.

“When you return to the mortal realm, your lives are beholden to the destiny you have forged for yourselves. I would only ask that…” His voice faltered. There was a tightening of his jaw and a clench of his fist. “My sons do not belong in chains.”

He narrowed his eyes and his gaze grew distant.

“You have until the first of Ash. Perhaps less.” Sadness crept across his face before he shook his head. More than that, he did not say. He blinked and returned his gaze to the three.

“The rift above your city has been quieted. For now. It will remain so until at least the first of Ash.” He looked at Franky. “The conditions of your promise require that you be the one to close it. That will be a long journey but perhaps you will succeed.”

The Dragon King lifted a hand and made a beckoning gesture. The soft footsteps of another joined them as a person came from behind. The dark haired woman that had walked them to the doorway of light entered the throne room. There in the peaceful light of the Dragon King’s court, she was even more radiant than before. A serene tranquility emanated from her. She inclined her head to the three mortals before approaching the King’s throne. He leaned forward and took her hands into his own, bringing them to his lips. He then pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead.

“Will you show them the way, beloved?” The woman kissed the Dragon King’s brow.

“Of course.” The two of them spent one last quiet moment together before the woman turned and smiled at the three. The Dragon King rest a hand gently upon her hip as she stood between his legs.

“Suria will show you the way back to the mortal realm. Go now, with my blessing.” With that, the woman, Suria, stepped forward and motioned for them to follow her. Following her, the three would soon find that the immaculate throne room faded and they were once again on the walkway of crystal and starlight. She walked quietly, with her head held high and back straight. At the end of the walkway she kept walking forward until they passed through another archway and into a place that was truly the epitome of tranquility.

They walked through fields of golden grass paved with roads of soft white stone. Trees with silver bark and leaves of a soft midnight-violet and silvered veins could be seen. Rolling hills and some rocky cliffs could be seen in various places. Rivers of crystal clear water burbled softly and in the distance, there floated cities of alabaster stone and silver glass. Suria did not lead them to any of those cities but rather to a golden tree that rose high into the skies. Its roots sprawled outward into the silvered waters, with a space at the bottom where shone another portal of light. She came to stand before it and smiled at each of them. A soft breeze captured the hem of her gown and the shawl that was around her shoulders. It teased her hair as though the winds themselves took pleasure in adoring her.

“I wish I could say that when you awaken, the journey back to the mortal realm will have been an easy one.” She smiled at them all softly. “Hold true. You are stronger than you know.”

[Franky]

At Rickter's words, Franky nodded, "I look forward to sharing stories with you over a few rounds, mate."

He continued to listen patiently, especially so as the Dragon King began to speak once more. A ticking clock. A desire to see his sons freed. The Rift was quieted. That sent an enormous wave of relief through Franky. He was tasked with closing it himself, which made sense as he'd asked for the strength the close it. It seemed that he was going to get it. The point of no return was long since passed now.

Franky watched as the Dragon King's partner, the very same woman who guided them to the Court earlier, approached him. He watched the exchange of love, true love, between them. Yes, the gods certainly had emotions much like the mortals below them. Or was it that mortals had emotions because the gods who made them had them?

Franky wasn't sure, but he found himself missing his wife and hoped she was safe on her evacuation. The woman was asked to guide once more and Franky followed her. Franky followed her through what could only be described as a divine paradise. Beautiful, bountiful nature, pristine cities, Franky found himself if they were reserved for the Gods and their loved ones, or if one could find a way there.

Not that it mattered to Franky, there was no future in paradise for him. But maybe it would be a good place for those he cared about. A peaceful place, away from the racism, away from the poverty, away from the Imperial mandate and the strifes of war. A place where one could truly rest and be happy. Franky smiled at the sights, a dream unknown now out of reach for a soul such as his.

At the golden tree, Suria spoke once more. Franky smiled at her kind words, "Thank you, Suria. You've been most kind." And without much further ado, Franky stepped through the portal, hoping he'd be back in time to make the most of the strength Malgar had agreed to give him.

It was time to get back to work.