I’ll Be the Shadow, You’ll be the Light [Dæmon]

[Talon]

D A E M O N

Absently, he rubbed at his wrists. The ever present bracers that were but a piece of the armor suit he was trapped in. He had gone out of his way to purchase clothes native to Solunarium even though, in truth, the suit could reshape itself to whatever manner of clothing he desired. He just could not remove it, merely alter the shape. He did not miss the brief exchange between Phocion and Vraedyn and the clear conclusion that they drew regarding the bracers origins. He did not confirm nor would he deny such a conclusion. His role was to carry out the emperor’s directive. He would do so, even if he desired to do other things along the way. As Vraedyn and his entourage exited the room, he watched them without comment. When the high prince left, he looked at Finn.

“Do not do that again.” He looked at Phocion, eyes narrowing slightly in suspicion but returned his attention to Finn. Sadness tugged at the edges of his expression but after a moment of simply staring at Finn dressed as he was, he lowered his gaze to his hands.

“Be careful.” He spoke while still looking down at his hands. “Do not invite the gaze of my master unless you are prepared to face him.”

He left unsaid everything that would entail. Neither Phocion nor Vraedyn were simpletons. He knew that they would not disregard the warning that was between the lines of his statement. Solunarium was undoubtedly capable but the resources and power of the Imperium were vast and they had not gone through the trouble of capturing just to lose him so easily. At Phocion’s comment, he folded his hands together and shrugged his shoulders.

“In my haste to halt another mind breaking, I may have overdone it.” The technique was simply an application of Splintering, it had perhaps been a more risky application but it was either that or endure seeing another mind go mad from their efforts. He did not want to see Finn injured in such a way, even if all Finn was doing was trying to help.

“The aetheric pathways around us will mend themselves shortly. Once more, I do not recommend anyone look deeper than they should. Not unless you are ready for the consequences. I will not be allowed to enact such a technique to save anyone again.” A mild grimace crossed his features. Already he could feel the armor cataloguing his use of the technique. It would be ready to take control of him and bar him from thwarting its effort to punish a trespasser in the future. At least in that manner. He would have to figure out another way to protect others from such a fate. He only hoped that he would be able to figure it out fast enough.

[Pharaoh]

Phocion arched an eyebrow as Dæmon bade a warning to young Finn. It pertained to Mesmer, no doubt. He would get a comprehensive report later on all the discernible magicks that had been bandied about their little meeting, but for now he could use his own foreknowledge and deductive reasoning to glean information.

"Yes, Subvigil. Be careful. He's already melted a mind or two since arriving, and I don't think your amatus would look on me kindly if I presided over your untimely demise." Phocion rose from his seat, as the servant returned with a new cloak and draped it over his shoulders.

"I think it is appropriate for me to call a recess while I check on my cousin to see whether or not he'll be willing to continue with today's session. I do apologise to you both for the theatrics..." He looked to Dæmon with a wry grin, "Well, at least those executed on our end, but..." His smile turned to Finn,

"I suspect you two have some catching up to do, so I shan't rush back. Be at ease, Subvigil. Take a seat, enjoy some wine. The man commissioned a bloody Symphony from you, I'm told! The least you can do is show him a spot of hospitality. We aren't all savages out here in the sands, you know." He started for the egress, casting a glance over his shoulder as a slave moved to open the door before he reached it.

"Don't betray the realm now, Finny, or we'll feed you to something nasty!" He offered with a jovial chuckle, waving a warning finger over his head as he made his way through the door, which was closed behind him by an attending slave. The pair was not alone, exactly, but at least there were no princes present. Unless some of the slaves or sentinels lining the walls were going all incognito, of course.

[Finn]

"Aye, Vigil," he replied, and was dubiously quiet through the rest. In Kalzasi, he had admired Phocion. Here, now, he was more aware of him as a person, one more fly on the web trying to transform into the spider. The elf was complicated; whether he liked Finn or not was a moot point. He would use Finn as he saw fit; they all would.

"Aye, Vigil."

And then he was left to his own devices. They weren't alone. Everything he said and did would be reported to Phocion, to Cithæra, and possibly to all ranking Sentinels and members of the Unbroken Line. He was a tool, and he was being tested. He sighed and removed his veil. Then he poured wine for the both of them, taking a knee to offer a cup to his prince.

"My Shinsei," he said in Synnekar. It was likely someone here present could understand the language of the Avialae, but at least he would make their work more difficult. "I offer you the fruit of the vine. I apologize... I did not expect to see you here. I followed Arvælyn here seeking his family. He is a prince as well." His smile was weary. "The longer we stay, the longer it seems we will remain, though I hope to follow the slipspace back home soon to visit my family."

When he did, he would certainly tell Queen-Regent Sahfri and the Council where Talon was, though there might be little they could do about it if he was leashed by the Imperium and in Solunarian custody. But perhaps Talon could tell him something subtle that their keener minds could divine some value from. He had so many questions, but didn't have the heart to ask things like what had happened to his wings, whether Aoren was safe, or anything that truly mattered. It was good to see him alive, but painful to see him here like this.

"Will you drink with me or shall I leave you to your thoughts?"

[Talon]

D A E M O N

He accepted the wine from Finn, holding it in his hand for a moment as he observed the man’s kneeling form. He listened as Finn spoke in Synskrit. To hear the words of his homeland, of Talon’s homeland, spoken so fluently caused a pain in his chest to flare. A deep longing to return to his people and be free returned to him. It was matched only by the fury that burned inside of him out of a desire to merit out Justice for the deep injustice he was suffering. He set the wine aside, pushed away from his chair, dropped down and enfolded Finn into his arms. He squeezed the minstrel tightly, perhaps tighter than he should have. However, he could not stop the flood of emotions that flowed through him. Especially now that he was physically touching a deep reminder of his past and his home. His mighty form shook slightly as he clung to Finn. He did not shed any tears. He did not know if he had any left to shed but he was most certainly shaken now that he was a little freer to express himself without the Solunarian princes present.

When he drew back, there was a softness to his expression that had been absent during the deliberations. He spoke in Synskrit, the words both a joy and a painful reminder to say.

“Stay with me a while, my friend.” He helped right the both of them, returning to his seat. He picked up the cup of wine and downed it to help steady his nerves. His composure rattled, Finn would be able to see just how drastically the past few seasons had changed him. While he still had his elven like features, his wings were gone, the Siltori cast to his skin was no longer there. His hair was a stark silver-white. Even the witchmarks and runes across his body were no longer the blue-violet that had always been his but a silver-white that matched his hair. Talon had always been a large man, possessed of a warrior’s musculature, but he had been hardened even more by the months of torture and brutal training he had been put through. He still looked like himself but there was a harder edge to him.

“I am glad to see you are alive.” He could not say that Finn was safe. Solunarium was not like Kalzasi. It was a den of spiders and venom where the webs that were woven were far more perilous to navigate.

“You say that Arvaelyn is here?” He remembered Finn’s lover. They had only met briefly but upon learning that the man was related to the Solunarian royals, he was surprised. Though, he had to admit, his features certainly matched that of the elves he had seen in the lands of Atraxia.

“For both of your sakes, I hope the two of you gain power and influence fast.” It was ultimately up to the two of them to decide whether they wished to stay in Solunarium. There were aspects of its society that intrigued him, he could grant that, but he worried for their safety.

[Finn]

Finn couldn't recall Talon ever embracing him before, but he supposed even his minstrel friend was a sight for sore eyes as changed and as chained as he was. He was certain Phocion would have questions; likely they would be intrusive and inappropriate, but such was Solunarium and such was being the lover of a prince.

He hugged him back, his own physique stronger and larger for his frantic training with blade and Traversion to become more effective at defending himself and those for whom he cared. Alas, but he couldn't protect Talon from the powers of Gel'Grandal and Solunarium. It seemed almost prosaic that he used to be so afraid of Zaichaer; the news said it had been obliterated by the Dread Mists and magical explosions. He didn't know fact from fiction at this point.

If it was strange to see Talon so changed, he certainly seemed more mortal than demigod now, though Finn knew appearances could be deceiving. His smile was a bit subdued when they moved to sit and take their leisure with wine, but it was sincerely happy to see the man.

"I am glad to see you alive. Arvælyn is back in the Umbrium today, but he is here. We followed the clues his friend at the theater found... it turns out he is a prince here, and bastardy isn't seen as quite the sin. So he has potential to grow in power and influence. They have given him new runes, at least. But now we are playing their game. Other skills than my music have proven more useful to the Sentinels, so here I am." There were things he couldn't say, even in Synnekar. Arvælyn was a bastard prince, but was Cithæra's son and not her lover's. He didn't know how long the ruse would prove necessary, but it was likely to change soon.

"We are going to be sent to Kaladon. Domina Varvara spoke into our minds and bade us come. I don't know what that means yet."

Finn was conflicted, of course. He had always been respectful of the Dragon Gods and Mistlords, but wasn't particularly religious. And while he hadn't been born and raised in Kalzasi proper, he had been born under its aegis and had made the city his home. He considered himself an ecumenical sort of a Kalzasern citizen, but following Arvælyn on this exploratory trip had everyone assuming he was seeking Solunarian citizenship and entry into the Varværyn faith.

And he didn't know how to correct that thinking without causing offense or inviting more danger.

He wanted to ask mundane questions so they could pretend everything was all right, but instead, his mind jumped to possible dangers. He had been in Solunarium too long.

"Are the Dawnmartyrs bound by proxy through their Emblems?"

[Talon]

D A E M O N

He took note of Finn’s changed appearance. The man was sturdier than he remembered. He had to wonder what had pushed the minstrel to make such a dramatic shift in himself. He had never considered Finn frail or unkempt but he was certainly physically more present. Given the circumstances, he should not have been surprised. Solunarium, it seemed, extracted a toll from any and all who visited it. Change was inevitable in the face of such a place. He released Finn and resumed his seat so that the two of them could speak. He reclined in the chair, attempting to relax as best he could. Picking up his wine he took a sip from it, eyes remaining on Finn as the man spoke in his native tongue.

“Solunarium is like its patrons.” In the deeper recesses of his ancient memory, Arcas presented a recollection of the encounters with Avaerys and Varvara. While they had not been extensive, they had been more than enough.

“It is a den of vipers all vying to be the most poisonous. If it is a life you intend to eek out here, I suggest you become the deadliest of poisons while clutching the purest antidote to your chest.” The constant deception that played out in Solunarium was exhausting to him. He was not a man who thrived in schemes and dishonesty but Solunarium not only lived for them but hungered for such things. The constant ploying to prove who was more cunning, more ruthless, and more knowledgeable was grating on his nerves. He knew who and what he was. At the end of the day, even broken, he preferred to live open and honestly. It was perhaps one of the reasons that he and the desert realm clashed so viciously. He sought to drag things out into the open, exposing them in their fullness with his Light. Avaerys, who arrogantly sought to supplant him as a deity of light, sought to blind with his majesty in order to conceal the truth. As for Varvara? She was a lady of shadows and dwelled there. Of the two of them, he considered her the more dangerous one.

When Finn revealed that Varvara had bade that both he and Arvaelyn come to her at Mount Kaladon, his expression became blank. He stared at Finn for a long stretch before speaking.

“She will ask you for a sacrifice. As is her nature. To give up something that you might be bound to her through the act. What it means? That depends on what you give and the meaning you place upon it.” He could only guess at why the bound demigoddess would summon Finn and Arvaelyn. He had only met Finn’s lover briefly but even then he had sensed a hunger and ambition within him. He chuckled softly.

“It is funny. I suppose.” A sigh escaped him. He shook his head. “Vicis has woven such an elaborate web. A tapestry that has tied so many ancient fates together in the present age. To what end, I wonder?”

Across his many lives, he had never personally met the Goddess of Fate. She was a weaver behind the scenes who scarcely manifested on the mortal plane. Her influence was felt in every breath ever taken. He wondered if Galetira conferred with her often. When Finn posed his question, he shook his head.

“They are free. As free as I can make them.” He would not go into detail about the separating of that piece of himself. He could dimly sense the presence of his Emblem bearers around the world but it was like a vague awareness on his peripheral. He could feel that piece of himself working to conceal their full presence from himself.

“What are you planning to do? You and Arvaelyn. From what I have been told, Solunarian royalty does not exactly smile upon…umm…outside marriages.” He let a smirk play on his lips.

[Finn]

Finn could only nod glumly at Talon’s read on Solunarium. Arvælyn had taken to it with a fervor, and while the minstrel had enjoyed its arts, its cuisine, and met interesting people, he couldn’t say that he was comfortable here. They made Great House Briathos look simple and transparent.

“I don’t know why she would ask me for sacrifice… I’m only going because I don’t want to piss off a Moritasi.” He frowned into his cup. “I suppose I could sing them a song. That’s about all I’m good for. Or perhaps they intend Arvælyn to slit my throat like a fatted calf’s.” He laughed at that. The half-elf’s choices were his own, but he wouldn’t sacrifice his lover and his conscience for divine favor.

At the revelation about the Dawnmartyrs, he nodded, relieved. Talon in chains was bad enough, but his personal army would be adding insult to injury. As for his place beside Arvælyn, he laughed again, although its tone was different.

“I told him I would stand by him and I will. I think at some point, his family will pressure him to set me aside if they ever see me as an obstacle to whatever path they want for him… I suppose if he does…” A pained look crossed his face. “Well, at least I can return to Kalzasi if he doesn’t want me anymore.”

[Talon]

D A E M O N

“You are greater than you give yourself credit for, Finn. I have always believed that. Since the day I met you in that tavern.” Daemon set his goblet down, folding his hands together. He stared at his fingers, idly rubbing his thumbs up and down.

“I do not think Arvaelyn will so readily toss you aside. I met him only briefly but…” He had not missed the flare of protective jealousy that had arisen in Arvaelyn the few times Finn had expressed admiration for him. “...he is a jealous lover. I can see that much. But, you are also treasured by him. That too was clear.”

He let the silence hang there for a moment before sighing. He ran a hand over his face before looking at Finn, then to the others in the room.

“I think I should not keep you any longer. You undoubtedly have duties you must attend to here. I have old parchments and scrolls that I need to pour over in order to…” A slight twitch in his jaw. Anger. Resignation. “...see to my task.”

Rising to his feet, Daemon stepped forward. He brought up a hand and squeezed Finn’s shoulder.

“I do not know what the future holds, Finn, but I know that you will face it well.” He lingered for a moment before nodding his head. There was work to be done. As much as he wanted to sit with a friend in a place filled with enemies, he did not want to endanger Finn any more than their association already did. Stepping out into the hall, Daemon made his way away from the conference room quietly.

[Finn]

Review

Experience: 15 xp, available for magic.

Lore: Finn —11; Talon — 12

Injuries: N/A

Loot: N/A

Note: That Dæmon, he's so hot right now.

Also, Pharaoh, I do believe you have earned moderator XP for this.