ship in a bottle

[Florian]

FLORIAN

Palace of the First Wind - 53 Searing 122

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The Palace of the First Wind was nothing like Florian had been in before. It was also the grandest place he had ever found himself chance to cry in — he cried himself to sleep, and awoke the same. Wave after wave of decisions and their repercussions hit him in a way that they did not while he had been in the Imperial capital. There had been too much overwhelming energy in Gel'Grandal for him to think straight, but in the somewhat remote palace in the mountains, his head was quiet. After his first divine display of power, he was scared and uncertain. He had not known what he had done until he had done it — and if he was unsuccessful, what then? What would have happened?

Kalzasi was cooler than Zaichaer or Gel'Grandal had been, just as it had been frigid in the winter he had spent here. Though he had been there only a night, he was largely unbothered by servants or royal guard, and he had planted himself in the garden once he realized he wouldn't be able to fall asleep again. It was early in the morning, and he was exhausted still, but this corner of garden was quiet and reserved, and as if he did not want to disturb the serenity, he cried quietly. The air was cool, the plants speckled with dew, and the stone bench he rested on was not as comfortable as it could have been, but the tears were cathartic.

Most parts of him desperately hoped that he would have a chance to rest. His own failings and uncertainties tugged at him relentlessly now, and though he tried his best to ignore them in favor of doing what needed to be done, he found his own binds more restrictive as the days went on.

Was this what his mother claimed he was destined for?

He had saved Aoren, but everyone seemed angry in some manner, disappointed in another. At the instant he freed Aoren, he knew he could not save Talon, too. Their binds were different, and the Kathars' bindings were easier to grasp, easier to rip and tear. The two Kathar that had been transported with him — he would have to take some responsibility for their collateral. He still did not understand how he had done it. The surge of emotions he had felt, the impulsive desire to continue his promise, and the deeply held emotions that Aoren had felt only empowered him in that moment, but now he felt drained.

[Talon]

A O R E N

The emblem that was emblazoned upon his left forearm was a curious thing compared to the other mark that was at the base of his skull. The mark of Eminence brought with it a sense of duty, a need to act against the injustice that existed in the world. The mark that had been gifted to him by Florian was altogether different. It looked like a scar that had been filled in with gold. He brushed his fingers over it. From it he felt a welling of defiance and a refusal to be shackled by the weight of the world’s chains. It had been what he felt the moment that the Lysanrin man had freed him. It had been what he felt when he had offered him that sliver of divinity that he so readily clung to. It had called to him on an instinctual level.

Returning to Kalzasi carried with it many joys. In the current state of things however, it carried with it many headaches too. Headaches that he wasn’t sure he could face without Talon. He was not a nobleman. He was a soldier but he knew that in order to move forward, he needed to take some kind of action. Things in Kalzasi were worse than he would have thought. The high nobles of the state were chafing under the rule of a regency they viewed as illegitimate. His presence in the city, as consort to the rightful ruler of House Novalys, unseated Sahfri as the First Spouse to the Daizoku. Which made her position as Queen Regent untenable. It had been a questionable position to begin with considering the presence of Rien who was Lord of the House in the interim, but now that he was in the city again, the Palace of the First Wind, Novalys Mining Co., the Patron of the Sky Guard, the many noble houses who pledged themselves to his husband’s banner, they now answered to him.

Sahfri would make her move soon. He had no doubt of that. He would have to meet with the Council.

But first, there was a Lysanrin that he needed to speak with. Accustomed to following the tug of divine guidance, Aoren let his thoughts go unfocused until he felt the draw of the fledgling demigod’s presence in the palace gardens. He did not yet feel steady enough to fly so he simply walked to the gardens. It gave him time to process his thoughts. Some of them at any rate. He came to the gardens and saw the Lysanrin there, looking as lost as he felt. His Emblem mark would give away his presence immediately. He knew quite well that gods could sense the arrival of their marked without exception. He came to seat himself on a bench across from the Lysanrin, spreading his wings out and letting them rest comfortably. He looked down at his hands first and then to the golden scar that was on his left forearm.

“Who are you?” He looked up at Florian. Aoren’s eyes glowed with elemental fire, a product of his elemental magic that had become something others often used to identify him.

[Florian]

Florian made no attempt to make himself look presentable. He did not know Aoren on any personal level, but Aoren was the first marked for the sheer sake of survivability, for safety, to fulfill what he saw as one of the first steps towards this remarkable mess. His gaze was immediately drawn towards the emblem, the golden scar that looked not much different from the same scars that he carried on himself. His eyes traveled upwards, to meet Aoren's, where they seemed to burn — literally — though Florian was no stranger to emotional eyes. Florian's were a stormy grey, dull with his grief.

"Florian Albrecht. Unimportant in the Zaichaeri Air Defense Corps. Subject 457. Undersecretary of Domestic Relations." He paused. There was one more title that both of them knew, but Florian had difficulty placing it into words. That cosmic dragon had been so proud of him, though. Through his tears, he cracked a slight smile, mimicking her words. "Rebel."

"I know who you are, Aoren. Talon was very insistent that you be saved. I— I don't think I could have released him, even if I knew what to do." He was already explaining himself before Aoren had even asked, before Aoren had accused him of anything. He did not need to defend himself yet, but he was overwhelmed with the anxiety that came from actions and consequences.

[Talon]

A O R E N

“I’m sure he did.” Aoren hung his head, bringing his hands together to stare down at them. Many thoughts passed through his head but he pushed them to the side. He rubbed a thumb over the golden mark on his forearm. Again he felt that rise in emotions tied to defiance. They were amplified more so than they had been just a few minutes ago. He imagined that was because he was sitting directly across from the demigod from whom those ideals stemmed.

“You’re new at this.” It was not a question so much as a statement of obvious fact. “I don’t know everything about what the empire used to bind Talon but I know that a fledgling demigod won’t be able to free him. At least, not without help.”

He did not speak harshly, his words were gentle as he ran a hand through his hair. The man sighed heavily as he thought on everything that was in front of them. He didn’t even know where to start but they had to start somewhere. If nothing else he could offer a bit of help to the individual in front of him. Thinking on what Florian had done, it was a marvel in and of itself. Aoren knew well the resilience of the Imperium’s methods of controlling its elite warrior population. The fact that, with a mere flex of his willpower, Florian had been able to shatter the collars around not just one but three Kathar, was a feat in and of itself. There were other methods but this was a significant finding…one the empire would be swift to investigate and destroy if they learned of it.

“What you all did was dumb, Florian.” He smirked slightly. “Brave, but dumb. We all got very lucky. There will not be another chance like that. The empire will have increased its watch of Talon most likely. Even getting near him at this point will be a feat by itself.”

He sighed and rubbed his face. Dimly he could feel Talon stirring across the Bond. He knew his husband must have been tired after exertions of that degree. He kept the Bond at a careful arm’s length. Close enough to monitor his husband’s status but far away enough that it would not jeopardize himself or the safety of those around him. It was a necessary precaution but one he knew they both understood. He fixed Florian with a stare.

“You need training. I am not a god but I have been there since the beginning of Talon’s ascension. I am still Bonded to him and if we are careful, I may be able to teach you some things from what I have learned and observed.”

[Florian]

"I would hestitate to claim there was any bravery involved. It was all so loud. I had to make it quiet. I couldn't think about anything else." Florian clasped his hands together in his lap. "Talon... was not feeling the same things as you. I was able to tap into what you were feeling and...break the most immediate issue. I think, because it didn't work the first time, is why I was able to free the other Kathar. But there was nothing like that with Talon. I figured it would never be that easy."

Florian listened to Aoren's offer. Any amount of guidance would be more than he had so far. He desperately needed guidance. He needed to desperately guide the newly freed Kathar, too — Florian did not understand the dynamics between the two types of Avialae, but he did not assume that they had separate names because they were friendly. But Florian was just as clueless as they were on integrating them. He would have to talk to them, watch them, teach them. This was the first time in his life that the responsibility of others had been thrust up on him.

He refocused on Aoren after his train of thoughts had wandered off. When he was more clearheaded like this, it was easier to ignore the bindings that seemed to layer over everyone, as aetherial and misty as fog. But as he focused on Aoren, that mist took form. Florian reached towards him, but stopped short of touching him, holding the remnants of a chain that, with thought, Aoren would be able to see, too. As Florian took hold of this ghostly chain, it formed — visible to the both of them, thanks to the emblem — in startling clarity, with the trauma of just the past six months writ on it in startling clarity.

Florian released it, and looked down at himself. His own trauma wrapped around him like a constricting snake, years and years worth of traumatic links that seeked to crush the very life out of him. Fleeting memories attached themselves to the link, and the longer he looked, the more he came to realize that something so deep and intrinsic to him would not be so easy to break as the Kathar collars. He looked back at Aoren.

"We have to do much more than train me in divinity to save Talon." He released his own traumatic chain. "But I need any training, any help I can get."

[Talon]

A O R E N

“A collar will never work on Talon. He could shatter them just as easily as breathing. But…” Aoren’s jaw firmed before he shook his head. “They did something to him. It…”

He struggled to get the words out. The memory of seeing Talon, lifeless but living, purposeless and docile, devoid of everything that made him the passionate Avialae he had known and loved for so long. The words to describe it did not come. He could not bring himself to speak on such an evil thing. If he had thought that what he had suffered had been a twisted fate, seeing Talon in that state had filled him with horror and revulsion. He hated the Inquisition for what it had done. He hated the empire for what it forced upon them again. If he’d had his way, that would have been a terrible fate that his beloved never would have known.

“It broke him.” He watched as Florian reached out and took hold of the ghostly chain that tethered itself to him. His posture stiffened. His wings instinctively flexed, the feathers ruffling slightly. Staring at that link in Florian’s hand, he was almost pulled into the dark of the memories of the past six months. The sound of his own broken screaming began to fill his ears. He jerked back, chest heaving, having broken out in a cold sweat. His eyes were wide. His heart was beating rapidly. He shivered. It took a moment before he could even speak again.

“Th-the only thing we can do is try.” He shook himself, stretching his wings and rubbing his face tiredly. He could not quite get the sudden exposure to his own traumatic experiences out of his head but he managed to not focus on them.

“We could probably start now. At least, with something to get you started.” He sighed. “And don’t ask me if I feel up to it. I don’t. But the longer we wait?”

He gave Florian a pointed stare. He hadn’t seen all of what the young demigod could do but he had seen enough to know that he had no idea how to control his powers.

“So…what’s your domain?”

[Florian]

Florian almost felt bad for the reaction Aoren had to picking up the chain. He was in immense pain, deeply traumatized, and now all but forced to babysit him, a fledgling demigod who, in one swift motion, could remind him of that pain. But he didn't feel bad. If Aoren wanted to truly help him, he would also have to help himself. He would have to confront what he was feeling, and Florian would have to do the same for himself if he wanted any chance at fully grasping his power and any chance at freeing Talon. It was likely shaping up to be a far more difficult time than either of them could have anticipated.

"Alright. I can start now." He paused at Aoren's question. Domain... it took an embarrassingly long time to make the connection that the Ways that he had been shown were much the same thing. His train of thought took it further, and he realized that it was likely every god would have those constraints on their power. What their focus was, where it took them. His felt natural to him, and he hadn't given it much of a second thought about what it truly meant until now.

"Rebellion." He said. "I don't really... I have to admit, I don't actually know the names or 'domains' or ways of any other gods. Or what exactly they encompass." He paused. "But it's like... I can hear and see and feel what people wish to be free of. Trauma. Those collars you were wearing. A loveless marriage. Those collars are controlled from the Obelisk — I could see that, too. And I can see it on myself. So I suppose it's rebellion, but by way of freedom. Rebellion is just the process. But it is what I have." Florian's little spiel surprised himself — he had been thinking about it on some level, but the thoughts hadn't collected themselves until now.

[Talon]

A O R E N

“That’s…” Aoren blinked at Florian as he confessed his domain. He could see how such a domain would have granted him the ability to break the collars that had bound him and the other Kathar. He had to wonder what the effect of such a neophyte demigod in an already politically unstable city would be.

“That’s going to cause some problems.” He sighed and chuckled. “But that’s a problem for another day.”

Rubbing his face, Aoren listened to Florian’s explanation of his understanding. Given that the Lysanrin was from Zaichaer, he did not find it surprising in any way that he was largely ignorant of the gods. The staunch new atheist state found the worship of gods to be the height of cultural heresy. He could not confirm it but he had his suspicions about how some of the events at his wedding came to pass. That too was something for another day.

“I’m not a priest. But, I was raised in a fairly religious institution. Also being linked mind and soul to a demigod has its perks." He smirked and ran a hand through his hair. "Where to begin?"

He took a moment to consider his words. There was a lot he could say. He did not know if he should or could explain all of it accurately. He was not a scholar but he had spent enough time in his life teaching others that he thought he might be able to relay the ideas in his head effectively.

"The portfolio of a god, even a demigod, is the concept over which they preside. They have full dominion over it from what I understand. They can amplify it. They can suppress it. They always inspire it. You can choose how far that influence extends from what I understand.”

He brought up his forearm, pointing to the golden scar that Florian had marked him with.

“Your Emblem is a divine sigil that you can grant to mortals of your choosing. It is an investment of your power and favor.” He blinked at Florian. “D-do you know what your Emblem does?”

Given how brand new to all of this Florian was, he figured he would ask. Talon had learned the full breadth of what his Emblem could do by meditating on memories from Arcas past. He had also made some choices about how to express it on his own.

“Although, I suppose you can decide what it does. Maybe it would be easier to show you what I mean?” He rubbed at the back of his head, his fingers brushing over the emblem of Eminence that was stamped upon the back of his neck. He turned so that Florian could see it.

“This is Eminence. It is Talon’s Emblem.” He brought up a hand and though it caused him some emotional pain to do so, he called upon the Dawnfire that was Talon’s gift. A silver-white fire encompassed his hand. “Through it, Talon grants me a sliver of his divinity. I borrow from the wellspring of his godly might. I am the conduit and channeling that power will exhaust anyone after a time but the gifts themselves come from the god who grants them.”

He reached out and touched Florian with the Dawnfire. It would not burn the Lysanrin. Aoren did not view him as a corrupt and unjust individual. It would however, be warm and being touched by it would impart feelings of righteousness, purity and above all, hope.

“I say all of this to explain that…your domain is what you make it out to be. Gods are the highest expression of the portfolio they command. I don’t say that reverently, I say it as a matter of fact.”

[Florian]

Florian listened to Aoren’s explanation. He understood it, on some level, even if it was unfamiliar. It made sense, even if it felt ironic for someone to have control over the ideal of something like ‘rebellion’. Even if that someone was himself. But he had chosen it, and now he was being offered the chance to learn something about it.

”No.” Florian had no real idea of what his emblem could do, even if he knew how to impart it. But if it was anything like what he had experienced — which, given it had felt like he had been imparting a sliver of himself into Aoren, and considering what he knew of the emblem given to him by Killian — he could only think it would align. It only fit what he was being told and shown about Talon’s emblem as well.

”Scars tell a story… of bad decisions, and of good decisions, and mistakes and punishment.” Florian was taking the poetical route towards his point. ”But when they cut deeper than the skin, when they cut into your soul, they must be… better understood. You can’t let anyone bind you. I have spent a long time suffering.” He reached towards Aoren again, like he did earlier, and grabbed hold of the chain that had caused him to react so terribly.

”I believe that my— my emblem is in pursuit of what I have sought my entire life. Freedom. And you cannot free anyone until you free yourself. You can’t save Talon just as much as I cannot save Talon until you face your suffering. You are being held by so much psychological weight, I’m surprised you can fly. Some think that a prison is only physical, but I spent so many years trapped by what I had dealt with simply growing up in Zaichaer…”

Florian didn’t let go of the chain this time, even if Aoren grew uncomfortable. ”With my emblem you should see it. Look at it. Know what you must do to free yourself of it.” As the demigod of rebellion, he knew his domain did not just encompass the rebellion against others. It encompassed rebellion against the self, against trauma and habits that threatened freedom.

”What I am saying is… we cannot free Talon until we free ourselves. We’re in Kalzasi, but mentally, you are trapped in the Imperium. You’re not powerless anymore. I am not powerless anymore. Is that… does that make any sense?”

[Talon]

A O R E N

Aoren flinched as the chain containing the manifestations of his trauma was grabbed by the demigod in front of him. He could not help it as he squirmed slightly. The weight of his experiences threatened to crash down on him and he struggled to push them away. Yet, with the hold that Florian very much held on them, they remained full there and present for him.

“Florian?” He looked up at the young demigod, his eyes beseeching the man in front of him. “Please. I…I need time. I…the pain is too fresh. Too recent. I know what you are saying. I know what you are asking of me. But, I can’t. Not today. Not right now. I will but…just give me some time to distance myself from the empire.”

He winced as another memory began asserting itself, there within the links of the chains that Florian held in his hands. He reached up, gently taking Florian’s hand into his own. He kept his touch light. His eyes began to mist as the sound of his own screams, the sound of Talon’s screaming, begging, the pain of the torture they forced upon him, among a slew of other things, continued to weigh down on him.

“Please?” He was not ready. He was very, very not ready. He had only just gotten himself free of that awful place. For the second time in his life. Coupled with the fact that the love of his life was still very much a prisoner in the empire’s clutches as well as what was happening to him, he needed a day, a few days, maybe a few weeks, to recover his strength. Within him, Florian would be able to see many layers of trauma linked and buried within the chain. It wound its way deep into Aoren’s heart. There was the most recent trauma of the ordeal in the Imperium but there was more, far more, linked back to the years he had spent in service to the empire as a slave whose will was supressed and his mind now fully his own. There was a knot there within the chain. It was tied heavily and almost seemed to carry a lock of some sort. It had not been placed there by the manifestation of Florian’s powers and it did not seem to be something inherent to the Kathar’s psyche. It was…something else. Whatever it was, it was yet another barrier that had been built into the man before Florian.

One that he would one day have to face.