Legend of Ransera

Lyra's eyes remained on Sahfri as she walked, though her form steadily unwound itself until only the golden eyes were visible. As a curtesy Lyra ensured there was an outline of a figure in smoke to give the other woman something to focus on. As she walked the smoke around Sahfri parted, at times drawing close but never actually touching the woman. Though she reveled in being in her true form, Lyra had not forgotten the threat this woman posed.

The intrigue in Kalzasi was bigger than Lyra realized. And abjinurium? What a curious thing for all of these to be working with. Lyra thought on the bank and the Spire that sat at the center of the conference table. Perhaps the stone was more of a staple of this society than she had at first thought, though the way the little elf talked seemed to suggest this was an odd coincidence. Or was it perhaps the fact that the ones targeted were experts in the stone itself? Lyra considered this, floating idly around Sahfri as she walked.

When Sahfri eyed her Lyra willed her grin to appear once more, teeth and eyes that both winked out as she flowed back toward the desk. She had her vessel walk over, slow and unsteady steps, and take a seat in the chair there.

She does seem to care for little bird. Lyra thought idly, the flows of smoke steadily pulling in toward the desk where Lyra condensed and lounged in the air. That surprised Lyra. Somehow she did not expect such... maternal instinct from this woman.

As the contract was placed down Lyra flowed down to it, reading it with an air of disinterest, though she pointedly avoided touching the quill. She did eye that instrument though, appraising as one was when an item of their craft was set before them.

Then finally they came to the heart of the matter, and Lyra looked up with a smile once more. Oh, and it was far, far more interesting than she could have imagined. Her melodies thrummed with the idea of it as she dispersed and flowed closer to Sahfri', the head and shoulders forming once more as she wove around the woman to inspect her features as she continued. The emotions that came through their link, the thoughts that must course through her mind, the warring tug of what was right and what was just. An old part of Lyra purred in pleasure to be caught up in such things again.

It wasn't that Lyra couldn't see the disparity of the situation. It was merely that, somehow, it felt slightly... off. She did not hide that feeling as Sahfri finished her dictation, and for a few long moments, Lyra said nothing, flowing in circles around the woman as she seemed in thought, one long-nailed finger pressed against her lips. Suddenly she looked at the other elf, tilting her head as she inspected her.

"You remind me of someone... Though I cannot quite place it. How far back does your lineage go?" The question was a simple one, and direct. Through her symphony, it would be known that she was genuine in her curiosity. Then, almost as an afterthought, Lyra added, "Do you truly wish your husband dead?"

The swirling smoke paused all at once as Lyra settled in front of Sahfri, staring the woman eye to eye as she grinned, "What you ask can be done, of course. Though I have to wonder... Would you not prefer a different method?"

Lyra raised a finger, drawing an intentionally long pause before she finished, "What if there was a way to put an end to Zaichaer, unite the North as you say, and Forstall this 'Imperium' all at once? Would that be of interest to you and those who support you?"

Sahfri studied Lyra in the silence. The melodies of her mind were quiet but there was a note of grim resolve mixed with genuine uncertainty. Her outward expression was that of someone simply awaiting judgement. Whether that judgement was cast for better or worse it did not seem to matter.

“My father is of the winged men. My mother, a woman of Auris. It is a kingdom founded after your…” Sahfri paused. “...your entrapment. She is a priestess of the Spider Most Elegant. Her family apparently sought to assist Sol’Valen in reclaiming something they believed to be rightfully theirs. She killed them. Burned their home to the ground and cursed the land it sat upon. If any still live, which I doubt, they would be from the eastern part of that kingdom.”

Sahfri spoke matter-of-factly as though the subject of her maternal heritage was of no consequence to her. When Lyra’s next question was spoken, her grip tightened on her staff. A stiffness entered her body and her voice became a hard whisper.

“Of course not.” She left it at that. Across her melodies, there was a swelling of symphonies, regret being one of the strongest among them. It was threaded, however, with a sense of purpose. Those things stilled however when Lyra made her proposal.

“Yes.” Every aspect of Sahfri seemed to focus in on Lyra then. “You come with knowledge from a time when the world was different. Just as this era is different, you see it with a fresh perspective that may yet offer another solution. I would hear it.”

"Curious." Lyra said in response to Sahfri's answer to her lineage, but she gave nothing more than that. That place though, Auris? For some reason Lyra had not considered there would be a number of cities that had not existed when she had been free. It was another thought that she chose not to linger on, however. As for Sahfri's lineage, that was of interest to Lyra. Was she perhaps descendent from someone Lyra herself knew? Questions within questions.

"Ah, the Spider..." Lyra grimaced slightly, but soon she began to move again, smoke flowing in slow circles through the shop once more, "That one is... unpleasant. I met her once, you know." There was a shudder in Lyra's symphonies as she said this, a note of uncertainty flashing through her as she looked for the memory, "Or I am almost certain I have. What I do remember was... Let us say, she is not one who should be fully trusted."

When Sahfri stiffened Lyra could sense that shift, and it made her smile widen even further. In some ways, she couldn't help it. That moment of pure reaction, when all conscious thought was gone and the instinct took over, THAT was what Lyra looked for. Those moments were when the soul itself spoke, unburdened by reason or logic. This was what Lyra looked to draw from others, and she delighted in finally seeing it from this woman who tried to play at being so cold.

With a dismissive wave, Lyra drifted back, parts of her dissipating in puffs though her eyes stayed on Sahfri as she continued, "As you say, I am a creature of another time, another world."

There was a brief pause as Lyra reformed herself fully, pulling in all of the smoke in the room until she stood as full and complete as she had ever been since being released. Long silver hair flowing as if in water, pale skin with long tipped black nails, golden eyes sharp and intense. She hovered a few inches from the ground, and her form was covered by a dress of rippling black smoke. She was not fully corporeal, however. Wisps of smoke trailed from the ends of her hair, and from her shoulders and arms. She then sat in the air, legs crossed with her hands neatly folded in her lap.

Lyra simply looked at Sahfri for several long seconds, pondering how best to present this. Her rhythms had shifted once more, though it was perhaps only noticeable now that she was presenting a stark contrast to her previous attitude. Before her rhythms had been slightly erratic, tones of excitement, freedom, and more than a tint of madness swelling beneath the layers. One might have thought that was simply her normal state, though Lyra had never noticed it herself. Now, however, she had shifted to what was her true 'normal' in this world. Her Rhythms beat steadily, the frantic pitches and warbling notes soothed down to something more pragmatic as she unconsciously put Lyrielle into a mental box.

"I, little one, am Lyrielle tu Kovash Elmari. The Lady of Whispers, the silence between words, and the whisper of madness. In ages past, I have been called Binder of Fates, Temptress, and King Breaker. I was there when the Gods walked the world as mortals did. I am from the time before the Rift Gates fell when my kind was immortal in the truest sense of the word. I have seen works of magic vast enough to reshape continents and wielded power that would make nations tremble. I was there in the last battle, trapped by He who reigns to suffer in isolation for all eternity, my soul shattered and my mind fragmented."

It was an admission of her identity, a confirmation that had been withheld from the conversation up until now. Lyra said it simply, matter-of-factly, in as clear words as possible so that Sahfri, this child, could understand to whom, and to what, she was really speaking. She did not say it, but the implication was there. Lyra was something beyond Sahfri, beyond the affairs she found so trying. Beyond mortality and the woes of this current world.

She let this statement hang in the air a moment before continuing, "The answer to your plight is simple." With a wave of her hand Lyra had her vessel stand, walking around the desk and holding up the small shard of Lyra's very own soul. Lyra looked at it longingly before raising her eyes to Sahfri once more.

"To Unify a people at odds, you must present them with something far greater than their animosity to overcome. Something they can well and truly agree must be dealt with, no matter the cost."

"I know things, secret things that are now lost to time. I know the methods by which the ancients achieved their wonders. These are things I can share with you." With another smile Lyra rested a finger on the side of her temple, "As I am sure you are aware, I am much diminished from the days of old, and the breadth of what I can give is limited. However..."

Lyra once more looked at the shard of her soul, glancing at Sahfri meaningfully, "If you aid me in collecting the rest of my pieces, I will give you what you desire. I will teach you things only the Archmages of my age knew, and I will present to you a force which you can use to unite a nation under one banner, without regicide."

Again there was a pause as Lyra watched Shafri before continuing, "With a unified nation, knowledge of the ancient past, and a deal with this greater force... The likes of this Imperium will be of no threat to you... to your children."

Here Lyra meant to let the Silence linger until Sahfri replied, but in a moment of... sympathy? Empathy? Lyra couldn't be sure. In that moment however she found herself wanting to say something that would bridge the gap of agest between them.

"You asked me," She said, her form swiftly unraveling to smoke that spread out once more, "What I would do to ensure my people had a future. The answer is I gave everything. My mind, body, and my heart away to gain the power to put an end to a great evil. I gave up my names in place of the brand tu Kovash, and had my soul rip to pieces and scattered to the winds. I spent thousands of years trapped, slowly widening the gaps in my prison until I could be free. I built this shop, and now I offer to you the means to achieve your own end."

The smile was the last thing to unravel, leaving just a pair of eyes looking out from a vaguely human-shaped figure of smoke, "The question is, what is it that YOU are willing to do?"

“I never thought I would have children. Until they were born, I believed I could not.” Sahfri turned away from the Ancient of Smoke and Whispers. She reached into her robes and withdrew a simple bit of twine bearing two feathers. It hung like a necklace around her neck. She rubbed her fingers over the feathers, her expression blank, her eyes thoughtful. One feather was silvered and the other was a golden brown. Both of them appeared to be eagle feathers.

“My life was once one consumed by ambitions aimed at uncovering secrets long forgotten, discovering knowledge and power the likes of which this world has not seen.” She ran a thumb over the golden brown feather. “I lost much in my quest for such knowledge. Some of which was repaid in full. But plans change and what I believed impossible, came to pass.”

She placed her free hand on her stomach as though she were remembering the life that had grown inside of her womb. Her gaze grew distant as the music of her mind became quiet.

“Thirty years ago my husband’s family was nearly wiped out. The insane predecessor to his crown, his very uncle, murdered as many of them as he possibly could. Driven by the demented vision that all of them were trying to usurp his power. He created enemies and shadows where there were none save for the usual perils of petty politics.” Sahfri tucked the feathers back into her robes then folded her hands together in front of her. “Only a handful were left. A task that many have sought to finish over the years with growing intensity. Before them it mattered little to me. The passing of a Great House meeting a fiery end, what did it matter?”

The lady shrugged her shoulders. In many ways, based on her proposal it seemed that the physical throne of Kalzasi still meant little to her. The only thing that mattered was that which ensured the continuity of their way of life.

“It changes you, motherhood. Love. I can only wonder what the evil you sacrificed everything for was. More importantly, was it just your people you gave everything for...or something more personal?” She quirked her head. The question was without barbs, spoken from a genuine curiosity as to Lyrielle’s motivations.

“The Imperium seeks to be an anathema to what the Clockwork Empire once was. Where one was a realm of magic that leaned heavily into the breaking of reality to suit its whims, this one seeks to purge all that is Other from the face of Ransera. Were they not so frustratingly effective at such a task, they would hardly be of concern.” Sahfri narrowed her eyes. Among her thoughts there arose genuine frustration and exasperation. Whatever tools this Imperium had at its disposal seemed to be of legitimate concern to any who wielded the arcane...perhaps more.

“I will help you collect your pieces. In exchange, we bring Zaichaer crumbling down and make it clear, in no uncertain terms, that the Imperium will be soundly defeated if it comes here.” She gave Lyra a sardonic smile at the Whisperer’s final question.

“I am willing to turn my husband into a martyr. I think that speaks well to the lengths I will go to.”

She cares for them with such fervor. Lyra thought as she eyed the feathers Sahfri fingered from around her neck. It was a curious object, perhaps a gift from one of her children? Lyra drew closer to examine it, her eyes the only part of her that was fully formed as she spun around the woman, still staying just far enough away that she would not touch even a thread of the other woman's robes.

Lyra, in part, felt she and this one could understand one another. Sahfri's motivations, and past experiences, were mirrored to Lyra's own in parts, especially in the pursuit of ambitions and knowledge. When she was younger Lyra was enraptured by what the archmages could do, and she desired to know, to understand more and more every day. She had eventually gotten exactly what she wanted. Yes, exactly what she wanted... The way she spoke of love though, seemed so odd. Were children really worth all of this?

At the question Lyra raised an eyebrow, her head and shoulders forming at eye level with Sahfri, though she remained quiet. It wasn't meant as a slight, not truly. It was simply that Lyra as she was, could not remember. And for that reason especially she felt there was a wide gap between their understanding of one another.

Ah, and there it was again. The 'Clockwork Empire'. Now Lyra had heard its name several times in the past season, yet she had no real answer as to what it was. Something after her time, for certain. A note of annoyance filtered through Lyra as she realized, once again, how much had occurred while she was locked away. It seemed, from the symphonies, that her feelings were matched by those of Sahfri on this same topic.

Then the words were said, and Lyra smiled a broad smile as she flowed closer to Sahfri. Her tendrils curled around the other woman, like a dark embrace that never touched her. She did not give Sahfri a chance to back out after the words were spoken.

"By the High Orders of Elis'la, in the name of the Elder Kin and the giants that first bore contracts with them, these words are accepted." Lyra's voice was low as she said these words, power thrumming through her as her rune spun webs of Mesmer through her very being. The tendrils of black shaped themselves into odd figures, almost like glyphs as they twisted and spun around the pair, "I, Lyrielle tu Kovash Elmari, last of the true Dinor'afiel swear by the blood of Akrivar, he who keeps oaths, that in exchange for all the scattered pieces of my soul to be returned to me, the lands of Zaichaer will fall before the true power of the Northern Cities, and the Imperium will be made to kneel or be eradicated."

It was an oath. An old oath, likely not spoken in eons now. Lyra felt the power of her own magic bind her to her word by compulsion, though she did not need it as she would see that all would be delivered if Sahfri kept up her end of the bargain. In a sudden surge, Lyra's form broke apart, spinning around the room and collecting around her vessel, which quivered as the black smoke flowed in torrents into its nose and mouth. When the last of Lyra was inside her body shivered, eyes rolling forward as they became gold once more. Her fingers curled slowly around the piece of her soul, and her lips drew back in a thin smile. Not as impressive as in her true form, but filled with pleasure as she looked up at Sahfri.

"The words are spoken, the pact is made." She said simply, raising the piece of herself up to Artur who was moving once more. The snake struck forward, snatching the soul fragment and swallowing it.

Brushing off the front of her robes Lyra set her hand on her hip, "We shall have to use something more binding than this..." She looked over at the paper Sahfri had presented, and frowned, "Contract you have provided. The specifics we shall work out shortly."

"To fulfill my part of our agreement I will need several things." She began counting off her fingers, "A larger workspace than I have here, in my personal lab. One which is warded and private, with no risk of any but those you or I give permission of finding. I will need aids in this who are skilled in what you call the 'world magics', and who can be trusted to keep secrets. It may be wise to choose those magically bound, or mute. Finally..." Once more Lyra smirked as she tapped the last finger on her right hand, "You said before that you had kept an eye on me for some time... Tell me, are there any others like me that are also within your care and observations?"

Sahfri stiffened slightly at the display by Lyra but as the words echoed through the wisps of her form and the power thrummed through the room. The Siltori woman opened herself up to the oath. She accepted the Mesmeric power into herself just as Lyra released it and formed the foundations of her promise through word and the weaving of ancient promises. When Lyrielle receded from the world and took the form of the puppet she walked about in once more, Sahfri observed her quietly. At the mention of the paper contract, Sahfri chuckled. She rolled it up and tucked it away.

“For use on someone or something else, I suppose.” As Lyra listed off her requests, Sahfri merely listened quietly.

“Consider it done. When the facility has been properly outfitted, you will be notified.” The woman began gathering her skirts as though she made to leave. Her next words confirmed as much.

“I must be off. There is much work to be done.” At Lyra’s final question, Sahfri paused. She seemed to be searching for memory for knowledge or information. “I have my suspicions about a few leads. Most of them tied to the Warrens. There are as many questions in that place as answers. I dare not return to where I first uncovered what led me to you. I was approached by...something. What it is and what its interests are is something I do not think even most gods know. But I asked aloud a question while in its domain. It chose to answer.”

Sahfri shuddered visibly and rubbed her shoulders even as she reached for her staff.

“If your need is great enough, you might seek it. It resides within the Third Deep of the Warrens. It is known only as The Monument. If you find it, it will answer any question you pose to it...provided you do not go mad first.” There was a haunted look on Sahfri’s face as she recalled that encounter. She shrugged off the feeling and composed herself.

“I will be in touch.” With that, the Iron Queen of Kalzasi departed the shop once Lyra dispelled her wards. Before she reached the door, her form became translucent before fading entirely as though she were never there. The door itself did not even open, Sahfri seemed to simply be gone.

As Lyra turned however, there came a knock at the door of her shop.

Once more it was the Warrens. It seemed to Lyra that she could never escape its grasp, but more curious was Sahfri's own reaction. Her visible shudder made Lyra arch an eyebrow in surprise, but she did not ask.

"Indeed." Lyra said to Sahfri's parting words, a bit put off by the suddenness of the departure, though she kept the surprise from her features. With a thought Lyra pulled in her aether, releasing her connection with the Iron Queen and watching with quiet interest as she simply... vanished.

"Curious..." Lyra said aloud as she stared at the spot where the Queen had been, absently checking the unfinished wards around her desk. They were not completed yes, but she should not have been able to come and go as freely as she did.

"There are those types in every age." The old elf said to Artur as she scratched him under the chin. So the child would prepare everything? And she had not waited long enough to establish a stronger contract either, binding her closer than mere words would allow. Was that on purpose, or did she truly not know of the other methods? With that one, it was difficult to tell.

Then suddenly Lyra felt tired. Not physically so, but mentally as she sighed and sat in her chair. Just as she was about to open the large book of ledgers before her there came a knock at the door, and Lyra looked up in surprise. Her eyes looked out the window, noting it was already growing dark and customers rarely came this late. Fewer still bothered to knock. Still, as with the moronic noble from before there were simply some things one must do as the owner of a shop. Thus with another sigh she stood, walked around the desk and toward the front door.

The wards were all unpowered now, and she had yet to put in the mechanism for OPENING the door on its own, a fact that she now hated herself for. So, left with no alternative, she placed the smile back on her face and opened the door to greet her next guest.

He stood there, a dark skinned human looking man. His hair was the color of coal with skin a dark brown that glowed with an amber cast as though perpetually limbed with firelight. He wore a cloak that was made from the fur of an unknown animal. Dark black leather pants tucked into tall boots. Over his torso was a black leather jerkin. His arms were bare save for a pair of bracers and the veins within them glowed with an inner fire. He brought up a hand to remove a rolled cigarette from his mouth, exhaling a cloud of ashen smoke. Where his eyes should have been there was only fire that trailed off to grey smoke. He stared down at Lyra with a solemn look upon his face before he smirked showing a hint of fanged teeth.

“Well, well, it has been a long time.” The man took another pull from his cigarette, exhaling another plume of smoke. “Are you going to leave me to stand out here in the cold, Lyra? Or shall we get down to business?”

The few people wandering around the streets as normal business hours concluded and the night life began to take root, seemed not to notice the man with the burning eyes.

Lyra felt a shiver through her very being as she looked at this... not a man. The smile slipped slowly from her lips and she became transfixed by his eyes, her mouth open but no sound came out. After far too many seconds Lyra's mouth closed and she glanced around the streets. None seemed to notice the being that stood in their midst, and perhaps that was for the best. Lyra herself could hardly believe it.

"I..." She said, voice cracking slightly before she cleared her throat, "Please, come in."

Without meaning to her voice became lower, not submissive but closer to compliant than she would have ever given to one of the mortals that ruled the world now. Stepping back she held the door wide, gesturing for the man inside and slowly closing the door after him. Using the key from around her neck she quickly locked the door, brushing a hand over the glyphs next to the handle settling alight a series of half-finished scripts that set the wards on the exterior in place.

Then Lyra hesitated, hand still on the door as she processed her situation. She knew this man, she was sure of it. In her very soul, she knew it... but he shouldn't be here. A hesitant hand rubbed the snake's head who sat motionless on her shoulder now, eyes staring at the creature that was no in the shop.

She was confused, uncertain, and for the first time in thousands of years, Lyra felt so utterly small. She turned slowly to follow after the man, eyes on him as she walked to the side of her own desk. With some effort she kept her hands folded and still at her waist.

"I... welcome you." She said slowly, a bit of her composure beginning to return after the suddenness of his appearance. Goldeyes stared at the man, but she did not insult him with a sneer like she would someone else, "To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?"

It seemed best, for now, to gauge just what this man wanted. If Lyra were to be called a monster, who turned words into blades, this man would be the tamer of monsters like her.

He touched the tips of his fingers to his forehead giving Lyra an informal salute of thanks. Walking forward, the man stepped through the door and took stock of what was around him. There was a heavy silence as those infernal eyes closed. He took in a deep breath before exhaling, bits of smoking ember exiting his parted lips. They drifted, softly glowing in the dim light of the shop.

“I have missed this feeling.” It was obvious that he was reminiscing to himself. “It feels like the Old World in here. Before so many things. When the world was simpler and more raw. A mystery to be wondered at, not a challenge to be overcome.” There was an ancient sadness in his voice but it was tinged with a hint of cynicism. He turned to regard Lyra. The fire in those eyes held no iris but it was clear he was looking at her, looking through her.

“You invoked an old oath. You spoke it aloud. You spoke it true. You spoke it freely.” He folded his arms over his chest regarding her passively. “You called my name. I am here firstly because of the oath you spoke and secondly…”

There was a pause as the man peered at Lyra.

“Ages ago, your whispers nearly got my son killed. I have not forgotten. But I may be enticed to forgive. I may not always agree with his…” The man’s face pinched in a slightly disapproving look. “...fascinations. But he is still mine.”

There was a note of possessiveness in his voice as he spoke in regards to his son. He stepped back and leaned against one of the bookshelves. Briefly, there was a flash of something. The ebony skin of an Orkhan looking man who fought with the skill and strength of a thousand warriors. A sprawling battlefield entrenched with monsters and man alike, each fighting for one cause or another. And there at the center of it, Shadow and Light brawled. The flash faded and the fire in the man’s eyes was less intense as he studied her.

“I would speak with you, the real you. Not this husk you inhabit. Come, Lyrielle. I will not harm you today. You have my word.”