Legend of Ransera

Posted: **Sun Mar 28, 2021 1:58 pm**

old new friends

70 Frost 120

Talon merely bowed his head respectfully as Lyra spoke her gentle reprimand. The words, though pointed, felt as though they lacked the normal sting he had seen her unleash against less fortunate souls. His vision was not perfect and he was nor omniscient though Talon had begun to pick up on the fact that he had a divine awareness. He just needed to figure out how it worked. He took her hand with the same steadiness that he grasped most things, gently he scooped her up into his arms then spread his wings. It did not take him long to ascend high into the skies. As he did, he found himself thinking carefully on how he would brace himself for the weight of being closer to the city. He could not hide from the din of voices that he heard on the edges of his thoughts forever. There had to be a way, not to silence them, but to understand them.

The trip from the Circle of Wandering to the heart of Kalzasi took both forever and was over all too soon. Even as they passed into the boundary of the city proper, Talon felt a weight pressing against the edges of his thoughts. How could he have been so blind to so many people in need? People who were crying out for justice, for hope, for a light in the darkness of their life? He felt impossibly ignorant but all too aware of the truth at the same time. Had he not seen the arrogance and cruelty of the nobility in his own city? Had he not witnessed the fear that had laced the very heart of Finn at a mere game of chance? Did not the rival to his family’s power in the city flaunt its position? Was not his own mother feared for her ruthlessness and tenacity? There was darkness in the silver halls of Talon’s life and he did not know if he was ready to face the full truth of it.

But he was fast realizing that he did not have a choice. His eyes pierced through shadows in a way that they had not before. He could see the fire burning inside the souls of all those around him. He only had to concentrate and sometimes, he did not need to concentrate at all. He felt almost drawn to certain people like a moth to an open flame. Talon wanted to act. The problem was, he did not know how. Talon angled his body, spreading his wings wide to slow his descent. He landed nimbly and with a steadiness that came from decades of taking to the skies. Gently he set Lyra down on her feet. Even as he did so, his attention was pulled to somewhere down the street. A soul was crying out for help, eliciting a furrowing of his brow. The muscles in his neck tightened as he resisted the urge to clench his jaw in frustration. His tension was eased however when he saw two Sky Guard quickly sprint down an alley. The cry for help faded, replaced with something that Talon could only describe as appeasement, relief or a soothing coolness to the fire that threatened to escape him.

Following Lyra into her shop, he felt a sense of familiarity wash over him. The smell of parchment and books, ink and candlewax. Surprisingly, he could think more clearly inside. It was as though another veil had been set in place to shield him from the noise beyond the walls of the shop. He had not noticed it before but it made sense given how private Lyra was. The scripts along the walls and floor shimmered in his vision, similar but also different to how he viewed them through the lens of Semblance. There was something purer to them, as though he could, if he focused, extract from the symbols their truest meaning. Reaching up, Talon rubbed his forehead and pinched the bridge of his nose. He felt Aoren’s hand upon his shoulder, he sensed the worry from his bondmate.

“I am alright. I am just sorting through how I see everything now.” Talon blinked a few times. The subtle difference in his vision did not go away.

“What are you feeling?” The two of them walked, following Lyra deeper into the shop. Again, Talon was struck with that sense of subtle difference. Things looked the same at first glance but everything felt different at the same time.

“It is that feeling you get when you have known something all your life, like a loved one or a friend. Familiarity, the promise of a certainty that will not change. You see them all the time but then you realize something is off and it leaves a strange feeling as you try to pinpoint what it is. The vision of them in your head does not quite match up to what is in front of you. Then you realize they cut their hair or there is a scar that was not there before.” Talon shook his head. He was about to run a hand through his hair when Aoren beat him to it. His bondmate threaded his fingers through Talon’s hair gently, fingers resting lightly upon the nape of his neck. The touch grounded him, it helped him feel less adrift in a sea of constant shifting. Talon’s eyes zeroed in on the door that Lyra opened. He felt Aoren’s surprise at realizing it was there.

“Talon…” Aoren’s voice held a warning. A reluctance in allowing him to go into the deeper part of the shop without him. Talon felt in his bondmate the echo of the events that played out in the Warrens, the unwillingness to let him out of his sight. Talon reached across their bond and soothed that fear. He mentally drew Aoren closer even as he stepped out of his gentle grasp. He touched his forehead to his partner’s. The two of them stared into each other’s eyes for a moment before an understanding was reached.

“Lead the way.” He tucked his wings in close, following after Lyra into the depths of her laboratory.

"I am Justice."

Posted: **Sun Mar 28, 2021 3:25 pm**

The wooden railing was polished and smooth, and Lyra absently let her nails glide over the wood as she made her way step by step down the gently curving staircase. After Talon passed over the threshold of the doorway the door would gently close with a soft click, the wards once more resuming the effect though the door itself was no longer locked. That was something that Lyra had been meaning to correct for some time now, but other, more pressing projects had taken greater priority. Without the light of the workshop, everything was cast in inky blackness. It was cool, growing colder the deeper they went beneath the ground into the secret basement Lyra had never intended to show anyone. Faint herbal scents wafted up from the lower level, a mixture of herbs and other blooming plants. There was also the musty smell of parchment and ink, and the ever-present mildew that one could never fully escape from in the underground areas of any home.

As their eyes adjusted it could be seen that the darkness was not wholly complete. There was a faint glow which came around the corner at the very bottom of the steps, a steady thing not like candlelight at all. Stepping off the last step would place both Lyra and Talon standing in a large room, its layout cast too much in shadow to be clear save for the steady multicolored glow on the shelves and over several large tables. Then Lyra snapped her fingers, and the room burst alight as mage lanterns along the walls all came alive at once.

The main lab area was spacious. Shelves lined the wall to the right of the stairs with books of varying titles and quality. On the far wall were shelves and tables with various types of plants, growing steadily in pots engraved with glyphs that aided their growth, and at the very center was a large table, atop which were a series of green intended glass instruments of different shapes and sizes. Several of the glass vials and flash held dark-tinted liquid in them, while others sat swirling steadily on softly glowing runes etched into the table itself.

"I welcome you, Talon, to my personal lab." Lyra said as she stepped further into the room. The dark wood flooring made a soft clicking sound as she stepped with her heavy boots. Lyra glanced down at her feet with distaste but dismissed whatever thought she had on the matter. She motioned over her shoulder for Talon to follow and she leads them to a door in the left wall which opened into a large stone storage area. The walls were all entirely covered in glyphs, dark red in coloring, and glowed faintly as they entered. When Talon entered Lyra would close the door behind them, and as she did the glyphs would activate. At a glance their purpose was obvious. It was a schema that Talon knew well at this point. It was Thallium's cage, yet it was fully realized. Everything within the space was contained in that space as if it were cut off from the outer world. She had designed it shortly after... the voice incident, and when Fawn began her training Lyra knew it needed to be perfected.

The room itself was completely barren, save for a single door that was closed on the wall to the right. Once inside Lyra felt suddenly relaxed, and her body language shifted slightly to reflect that. Walking to the center of the room Lyra knelt and began undoing the laces of her boots, sliding them off so that she stood barefoot on the cold stones there after.

"As I have said before, Talon, you do not realize the weight of what you ask of me." As she spoke Lyra began undoing the ties of her robes, letting the cloth slip off to reveal a form-fitting grey body armor. Naila curiously pressed against Lyra's mind, a question that she didn't ask hidden there, but Lyra merely waved the other woman off. There was a reason for this.

"Forgive me, for I have lied to you. I have one, final, condition." She smiled, but it didn't quite reach her eyes as she clapped her hands together. In a wave black smoke rushed out from between her palms, as well as the soles of her feet, quickly filling the space as it surrounded Lyra and Talon in a slowly spinning cloud. There was a slight hesitation before Lyra clenched her eyes shut, forcing down some thought or worry before opening her eyes and staring at Talon with an old determination.

Soft whispering could be heard from the smoke, faint words of temptation, longing, desire. Pulling and tugging, urging Talon to give in to his basest instincts, let go of his doubts, of his worries. Lyra watched him as the whispered steadily faded, and the smoke began to make odd shapes, almost like glyphs in the air.

"By the High Orders of Elis'la, in the name of the Elder Kin and the giants that first bore contracts with them, I call you, Talon Alexios Novalys, to swear a binding oath on the blood of the divine which rests within your veins." The air vibrated faintly with magic as these words were spoken, thin lines of blue electricity tracing the still flowing scripts of smoke that surrounded them. Lyrielle was not so foolish as to make the same mistake twice. She would not have this oath made on the blood of Akrivar, for then they would be beholden to his whims. Instead, she would place the burden of the oath on Talon's newly awakened divinity. Newly awakened were all so similar, unsure of themselves or their power. Their thoughts and mindsets would bind them as strong as any chain until they learned to control that vast power it would inevitably control them.

I am sorry. Lyra thought to herself, surprised that she meant the words even as they bubbled to the surface of her mind. What she was doing was in some ways cruel, but oaths such as this had to be sealed by the blood of divinity to hold weight, and she would not turn a mistlords eyes on Talon when he was still so fresh.

"Swear that you will tell no one of which we speak of here without my consent. In exchange, I will uphold the oaths of old, and renew a pact of truth between us. This I swear as last of the true Dinor'afiel, on the blood of my people spilled by my hands."

Then she waited, the magic swirling around them expectantly, waiting for Talon to speak his part of the oath.

Posted: **Mon Apr 05, 2021 11:04 pm**

old new friends

70 Frost 120

LTalon followed Lyra into the deeper parts of her workshop. This was a place that had a different feeling to it. He was reminded of his mother’s laboratory. It was a cold place but for all of the frost that seemed to cling to the corners of the space, it was always filled with a quiet buzzing of life. The sorceress herself, her assistants, sometimes there had been times when she had brought him before the altar of her work as she instructed students of the Circle. She had helped him study the anatomy of creatures dragged forth from the Warrens. She had helped him learn the weaknesses of a Somaval, and the pressure points to shatter the body of a Shinaegri. He had to stoop slightly as he descended the stairs. When they finally reached the bottom, he managed to straighten himself. He resisted the urge to stretch his wings. They were not in so spacious a place that he was certain he would not knock something over.

“Forgive you?” He blinked at Lyra. He watched her carefully as she disrobed, noting the grey under armor. When she clapped her hands together, smoke billowing from her form, Talon tensed. There was a momentary flash of dread as he relived the darkness screaming across the broken chasm of the Warrens toward him. He could feel it clawing into his flesh, ripping him to pieces and digging into his body to get at the essence of his soul. He jerked back, tension rising high inside of him. Talon stopped himself. The young demigod took several deep breaths but it was clear to any that he was still marked by the trauma of the experience that had claimed him. Confusion filled his eyes as the whispers tugged at the edges of his thoughts. There was a part of him, a strong part, that wanted to listen. He wanted to let go of the weight of everything that he carried. He wanted to, for just a short moment in his life, be a normal man.

But that was living in a fantasy that would never be. Talon was not normal. He never was. He never would be. So he set aside those thoughts and drew in a breath to steady his nerves. Looking around at the swirling smoke, hearing the whispers, seeing the shapes taking form, listening to the words that Lyra had to say...he looked upon her with hesitation. Her conditions, he came to realize, were not the only thing that she had lied to him about. As she called upon his name, invoking something that felt ancient and powerful, Talon gasped. He felt a pull in his chest. Something surged inside of him. Talon wrapped his arms around his torso, doubling over as though in pain. A force tugged at his soul. He could feel it pushing harder and harder against any semblance of control he thought he had. It felt as though he was being stripped away, layer by layer as this power surfaced.

Talon’s chest heaved. His eyes went wide. He fell to one knee, a hand going to his head as he felt a sense of dizziness that threatened to overwhelm him. His first instinct was to bury this feeling but again, he reconsidered that urge. It was born from a want, from a desire, to be normal. To be what he had been instead of what he currently was.

Talon was not normal...and he never would be. He squeezed his eyes. Then he did what the whispers urged him to do, though not quite in the way they urged him to do it. He let go. He stopped trying to hide away from the transformation that had taken root in his soul. He stopped trying to be just Talon and let the weight of Talon, the Demigod, settle upon him. A shiver passed through him. He opened his eyes. The feint wisp of what one day might be a silvery blaze shimmered in Talon’s eyes. The markings upon his body went from their violet-blue to the silver-white as he rose to his feet. A nimbus of divine symbols manifested around Talon’s head, drifting lazily about his form. Their light was captured by the feathers of his wings, reflecting them purely in the darkness of the black smoke that surrounded them. The world itself shifted in Talon’s vision.

Once again, he bore witness to the entity that lurked within Lyra. It was still obscured but it seemed closer, clearer than even when he’d first witnessed it on the mountain. He could see the flicker of flames buried beneath the inky blackness within the core of her, but only glimpses. There was another presence there however, something he had missed the first time. Another soul that clung to Lyra. He could just barely make it out. It was then that something became clear to him this close to her, she was hiding. From what and how? He could not yet discern but with what he could only guess was the raw form of her essence, so clear and close to the surface, swirling around them, he surmised that was the only reason he could make such a distinction.

He was silent for several moments. He could feel the power at play waiting for him to acknowledge it. Unlike at the mountain, it felt as though it were just the two of them. Somehow, this felt familiar. Those silver eyes settled upon her and this time, Talon did more than just focus his attention. He looked at her, he searched for the edge that lingered just beyond the horizon. The edge that he had become aware of following his rebirth. It was a white line in his vision, one that he had to look past. It was closer than he would have thought but it eluded his concentration as he tried to focus on it. Just beyond his reach, that was where it remained, along with whatever answers rest there.

“A pact of truth shall stand between us. By my blood, I swear that I shall not speak of what we witness here and now, to any without your consent, provided…” Talon held up a finger. “...that you do the same. Speak of this to none who are not present here in this room. Both of you.”

He focused on the flickering of that other soul. It was blurred but he could just make it out. He extended a hand to Lyra. The light of his divinity illuminated the palm of his hand casting a silhouette amongst the shadows.

"I am Justice."

Posted: **Tue Apr 06, 2021 1:26 pm**

Lyra felt a shiver course up her spine as the air in the stone room seemed to compress. A new weight came into being as she watched Talon shift, a change she knew was inevitable and necessary. The very air felt heavy with power as he stood at looked at them with new eyes.

He's looking at me. Naila whispered, her voice small and uncertain, Lyra he can see me?

Of course child. In this place, at this moment, under these circumstances, there was no way to hide. He is claiming his realm, as is only proper.

She felt dirty under that gaze. Unclean, vile, hideous... but Lyra did not shift and even held Talon's eyes as he examined them. Inside Naila gasped as she was suddenly able to see the nimbus, the silver flames flickering in eyes older than Talon's few years. Lyra sent a wave of comfort inward to the mercenary, who calmed and drew deeper within, equally discomforted by those eyes as Lyra herself. Those were not the eyes of mercy, but of justice, and justice was not always kind.

The magic in the room stilled at Talon's words, the streaming smoke coming to a sudden halt, frozen like black marble in the shapes they had taken. Thousands of voices fell silent, and the world seemed to hold its breath. Without meaning to Lyra held her own breath, which she exhaled slowly while looking down at the hand extended toward her. Each step forward echoed in the silence, and when she grasped his hand Lyra once more was reminded just how large Talon was. His hand nearly fully engulfed her own as she ran a thumb over his calloused thumb. When she looked up she paused, for what she saw was not Talon, but a man long since dead. This moment, though not exacting, was so very like that day long long ago. He had come to her in the darkness, on the eve of a battle. Lyrielle had thought he meant to slay her, yet he came only to talk... to her, to a mere force, a power that swelled the ranks of his enemies. She had never asked him why she realized.

"These words are accepted." Lyra said softly, still staring up at the face that was steadily focusing back into the present. She stared up at Talon's eyes, but then closed her own with a chuckle, "It is unfair you know. This is the second... the second time you have forced me to say these words." With a shake of her head Lyra would continue before giving Talon a chance to speak, "I, Lyrielle tu Kovash Elmar, swear to uphold this pact of truth and speak of this to no one outside this space without your consent."

There was a faint sound of a chime, or a far distant bell as the magic around them shuddered. Lyra felt a tightening around her soul as a new oath settled there, resting like a weight in her chest right next to the one sworn in winter. The smoke around them began to spin once more, their symbols shifting as the whispers began anew, growing louder as she released Talon's hand and stepped back. She looked down at her hand, curling her fingers one by one until she held an upraised fist before her. Her grip squeezed tighter, then loosened as she let the hand drop.

"Understand you, child, that you asked for this." Lyra began, looking up at Talon and half-smiling as she stretched, "And accept that, once spoken, these words can never be taken back." The clouds of smoke flowed inward, spinning and surrounding Lyra so that only her eyes were visible, "Very well. Then in good faith, I will speak with you in earnest, in truest form as you have chosen to do for me. I pray that you do not come to regret your decision."

In an instant, all of the darkness flowed into Lyra, who took a hesitant step back as her eyes rolled back. It was always an uncomfortable process, to fully release herself, and the transition took a few seconds which looked... peculiar from the outside she was sure. Her head tilted back, and from her nose, mouth, and even eyes a thin trickle of black began to waft out, then flow, and then stream upward to collide with the roof and flow down the walls of the barren room. The glyphs along the walls activated as they were touched, containing as was their purpose as Lyra's body wobbled slightly. The stream continued until it entirely filled the room, coating the floor but never touching Talon directly. When the last breath of smoke escaped the body's eyes opened as Naila blinked, coughing and bending over to rub her throat.

"Mother f--" Naila began, the illusion of Lyra quickly being dismissed as the mercenary glanced up and remembered. She stared at Talon, uncertainty in her eyes as she cleared her throat, making an odd, awkward bow of sorts as she took a hesitant step back, "I mean... Uh, sorry m'lord... sir?"

Lyrielle laughed lightly as the smoke around Naila swirled, causing the woman to stiffen slightly as a long, blackmailed hand lightly touched her cheek before it was gone. Steadily the smoke began to coalesce, flowing down and pooling on the ground and in the air around them. Lyrielle formed herself very near to Talon's shoulder then, an elven face with long flowing hair that examined him curiously mere inches away before dissipating.

"Your eyes are not quite the same as his." Lyrielle's voice came from the smoke like the whispers were all speaking at once. She formed again on his other side, this time lounging slightly in the air as she studied his nimbus. A tendril of black extended, shaping itself into long, black nailed fingers which tried to touch the symbols, but when they grew close her fingers dissolved. This made Lyrielle frown slightly before sighing and dissipating once more. She reformed draped around Naila, one hand absently running a nail along the woman's cheek, who seemed annoyed by the action.

"As we have said, we will uphold a pact of truth between us. Ask us, and we shall answer as we are able." Lyrielle said with a widening smile, her golden eyes glinting as traces of Lyra steadily began to vanish under the persona of the Lady of Whispers.

Posted: **Fri Apr 09, 2021 9:33 pm**

old new friends

70 Frost 120

The smoke that poured forth from the body of Lyra unnerved him but he remained standing, unmoved by the danger that he sensed now filling the room. As that black smoke filled every space, creeping to the edges of every inch, it was kept at bay by the twinkling of Talon’s nimbus. As darkness sought to surround him, the symbols floating around him grew softly brighter. The light formed a dome around him as Talon allowed the full manifestation of his nimbus to assert itself. When the illusion was banished and Naila stumbled. He studied her, offering only a nod of his head, then looked to the smoke that drifted lazily around the room.

Within the smoke, he could just barely make out the forms of shapes drifting in the dark mists. His wings shivered slightly, the feathers shifting as something old and powerful welled up inside of him. He saw a different place then. Standing atop the crest of a cliff overseeing a woodland. In the distance dark storm clouds rolled across the horizon only, they were not storm clouds. The smoky form of a great being danced in the air. A song that could be given no mortal words moved him. It filled him with sorrow. It filled him with wonder. It filled him with rage. It filled him with joy. He listened until he was moved to join his voice with the song that he heard, harmonizing with it. It did not diminish but the dark clouds drew nearer until Talon stood at the eye of a storm that blanketed all he could see.

She formed out of the clouds, a woman that was neither mortal nor immortal. She was the sky itself. She was the fury of a hurricane. She was the majesty of the mountains. She was as fragile as she was powerful. The woman watched him with golden eyes that were as harsh and cruel as they were kind and warm. Talon kept singing. So did she.

“You sang with me. You heard my pain. I heard yours.” The memory, for Talon was certain that was what it was, faded. His silver eyes settled upon the true visage of the ancient he knew but also did not know.

“Lyrielle.” Talon’s voice filled the space. He spoke her name, her chosen name, the name that had instilled so many with fear but filled him with questions. Briefly, he looked upon her with something close to recognition. He saw her, the whole of her. But then it was gone and Talon shook his head, touching a hand to his temple. He rubbed it as though he were getting a headache despite feeling physically fine.

“His eyes? Him? He?” Talon rubbed his eyes with a sigh. He suddenly looked very weary. So much had changed in such a short time, he felt weighted down with the effort of trying to sort through all of it.

“Who is he? Who am I?”

"I am Justice."

Posted: **Sun Apr 11, 2021 9:16 pm**

Old New Friends

70th of Frost, 120 AS

Memories were a window for the soul. Time was an illusion, for the soul itself was not bound by the passing of time, and through the souls memories could transcend states of life and death. It wasn't something Lyrielle thought much on in her old life, back when she was less a person and more a thing that was. Now though, bound once more to a singular physical form, she found her mind growing more and more concrete, bound to the logic of the world, focused in ways she could not comprehend. Thus she thought this peculiar thought as she heard Talon speak her name, and her smile grew wider until the edges of it curled away into black mist.

She hummed to the melody of the memory as it filtered through Talon, as she opened herself up to the songs of his soul, and reveled in the memory as she did. Memories were windows of the soul, and through her magics she could touch those memories. So many in this age thought of mesmer as simply manipulating the emotions, but the Leh'anafel knew better. Mesmer was the magic of the soul itself, layered and complex as were the emotions of those it stirred to life.

Naila shifted uncomfortably under Lyrielle's touch, her smoky form constantly forming and reforming around her. Long flowing silver hair blended to grey, and then black, her eyes the only constant as they gleamed golden floating over her right shoulder. The black nailed hand on the Mercenary's cheek would evaporate before quickly returning, highlighting how little Lyrielle truly existed in this place. It was unnerving, and Naila shivered without meaning too. This drew the elf's gaze which lingered for several long seconds before returning to Talon.

"What an odd question to ask us." Lyrielle spoke softly, her voice being carried along the whispers, repeated over and over, growing fainter the more it was repeated. There were many answers to give, each more obvious than the last to the woman, but there was a pause before she spoke. Her thoughts shifted more freely, flowing with the currents, adapting, twisting and understanding things that before she had not been able comprehend. She had suspected for some time that her captivity within a mortal body was changing her, affecting her in some way she could not say, yet now, free and in the presence of a reminder of who she once was, Lyrielle felt somehow more herself than ever before. She contemplated this, drifting up and around the room lazily.

"You are who you are. Yet more and less than what you were." She said at length, floating over Talon and looking down at him. It made sense to her, for from her perspective he was not different at all, yet he had changed so very much. At once the same and new. These changing thought patterns made her think back to her time in the Warrens, with that creature made of mist. Suddenly its words did not seem quite so cryptic. How curious.

Looking down at Talon once more she continued in her lyrical accent, the musical tone growing as she fell further and further into her true form, "He had many names at the end. Dawn's Light, the Hero of Akitash, the Judge. We knew him by another name." She drifted down, flowing around Talon but never touching him, "We knew him as the lost boy, the broken man, the fool who tried to save everyone. He was known as Arcas, son of the God of Gods, hero of heroes."

Drawing as close as she could she tilted her head, studying Talon's eyes and raising a hand that could never reach his cheek, "He is you, but you are not him. We do not know how to feel, for it was because of him that we were shattered, torn asunder, reduced to..." The skin of her face peeled back into smoke, revealing muscle, then bone, and then even her eyes were gone in a puff of smoke, "This wretched state."

The smoke began to swirl a bit faster, the whispers growing slightly louder before calming once more as Lyrielle reformed beside Naila who glanced sideways uncertainly. Lyrielle looked at the woman curiously, raising a half formed hand to brush a long nail over the woman's cheek. Where she touched Naila's skin prickled, but she did not pull away.

"You asked if we could reveal those old memories to you." Those golden eyes looked over to the fledgling demigod, her smile was gone, "We can... but we will not." Adjusting so that she was sitting in the air Lyrielle rested a hand on her cheek, giving Talon an almost pitying gaze, "We would not see you go mad with what those would reveal, and... we do not wish to draw the attention of others to us. Not yet."

With a sigh, and an expression that was very reminiscent of Lyra, she waved a hand and said in a kinder tone, "However, we will uphold the oath and answer any questions you may possess. Though we will require..." Her grin returned, "compensation."

She raised a finger to forestall questions, "For this one day, however, we shall wave the fee. Consider this repayment of a debt owed."

Though Talon's memories of that day might be foggy at best, to Lyrielle her few meetings with the man he once was were almost all filled with a stark clarity. It was almost as if, in his cruelty, the Dragon God had ensured that those memories in particular would remain when so much of what once made Lyrielle who she was became lost. Because of this Lyrielle remembered their first meeting, and she remembered their last. A broken promise, which could never have been kept. This was, in some small way, a means by which Lyrielle made amends to a man long dead.

"I am the silence between words."

Posted: **Sun Apr 18, 2021 3:10 pm**

old new friends

70 Frost 120

Arcas.

The name, his name, spoken from Lyrielle’s whispers sent a shiver through Talon’s soul. He was at once suddenly completely lost and terribly certain of himself all at the same time. His mind filled with a vision. A man with dark black hair and silver eyes with skin bronzed by the love of sunlight upon his flesh, sat astride a mighty platinum dragon. He shone with all the brilliance of a glorious star, the very epitome of Light, Hope and Justice. He battled a terrible beast that Talon could not quite make out. As soon as the vision faded, Talon was left with the stark contrast of how that man appeared in his vision and how Talon himself appeared now. He realized then just how much of a shadow of his former self he was.

As Lyrielle drifted closer, her voice was a confusing mix of emotions. Talon would not even begin to presume he understood all of what this ancient being felt. He heard her refusal to awaken the memories inside of him. Before he could protest however, she made her declaration. An offer of knowledge in exchange for compensation. For this one day, however, she would answer his questions freely. Silence settled between them as he studied the misty form of Lyrielle. She had said that she had been reduced to her current state. Talon knew that his former self had been killed, even with all of the apparent might and power that he possessed in that former life, he had still been slain.

In his mind, the scene played out. The battlefield before the city of silver towers. The conflict between Light and Dark. The sword that had plunged into his chest. Talon brought a hand up to touch the thin scar that was on his chest. As his fingers brushed over it, he could see clearly the face of his killer. He was filled with anger, with sadness, but most of all he was filled with a sense of business left unfinished. Talon had been trying to do something. He did not know what. But he had failed.

“What happened?” He had a feeling that he did not need to explain his question to Lyrielle. The battle kept playing over and over in his mind. It was the main thing he had to go off of when it came to questioning what all of this meant. Who had he been fighting? Why? Why had his death left Lyrielle in the state she was in? Why did he keep being reborn? Andrus warning played out in his mind.

”When you meet him, and you will know him when you do... Don't trust him. No matter what he says, no matter how good his actions and intentions seem. If you do, you will come to regret it."

The words reverberated in Talon’s mind. Was it the man of shadows? Was that who he was being warned of? That seemed both correct and incorrect to him at the same time. Talon looked to the smoky form of Lyrielle, awaiting her answer. Perhaps this would give him the first glimpse of what he needed to find in order to truly understand the path he had been set upon.

"I am Justice."

Posted: **Thu Apr 29, 2021 9:24 pm**

The question rang like a bell in the silence that followed, a long pregnant pause where the only sounds came from the faint incoherent murmurings of the inky blackness that flowed in slow circles around them.

Lyrielle's eyes grew distant, staring off at a point just over Talon's shoulder as she idly twirled her finger in the air, a trail of blackness following the tip of her nail. For some time she seemed as if she wouldn't answer, but then she spoke in a low tone that hushed the thousands of whispers all at once.

"We do not remember how old we are. Older than mountains, older than seas, older than some gods. It was a time before time mattered, while the world was new and the divine walked the foothills of the easter shores and the valleys of the northern providence, marking their territory and creating great pillars of worship and knowledge shared by all. We remember pieces of that time, and then we became nothing. It was his voice that drew us from that nothingness, made us something more than a force of nature. He drew us out, marked us, and gave us purpose." One finger trailed down her chest, passing between her breasts, and where it touched the smoke parted to reveal pale flesh. There, at the base of her sternum was a dull and faded mark, like a scarred-over burn in the shape of a circle. For the briefest moment, it fluttered with red light before the darkness covered it once more.

"Stories do not really have a beginning." Lyrielle continued in her melodic tone, looking for Talon's eyes, "But for the sake of our oath, it is here that I say it all began. When we awoke it was amidst war. We remember... hate, vengeance for pain so great that we feel its twinges still countless millennia later. We relished it, we were awash in the ecstasy and torment of all, and a deep longing was steadily being sated, but it was never enough. We followed him to that final battle on the Et'thelion Plains, at the gates of the silver spires. The final clash where the armies of Light met the hordes of darkness, and they were not even. We should have won."

As she spoke the flow of smoke began to increase, streaming from Lyrielle's hair, fingers, and every pore to block out every trace of the room around them. It covered the walls, the ceiling, and even the floor, and from that point the smoke rose up, taking on vague outlines of men at the battle, great engines of slaughter rolling through troupes of armed forces, giants 3 times the size of the rest knocking smaller bodies aside as if they were but toys. At her side Naila knelt down, eyes wide and curious as she watched the small figures move in mock battle.

"We were there. We were the haze of blood lust that coated the vision of the hordes. We were the creeping chill of fear and doubt along the spines of the golden-skinned Eph'alin, the greatest warriors of the Courts. We relished in turning the bold into cowards, crushing the spirits of the hated ones, for our greatest desire was there, nearly at hand. We had given everything to see it, yet..."

Lyrielle reached out, the melodies of Talon entwining in her own as she snapped a sudden link between them. She smiled slightly as she found that memory, hazy in the back of his mind but growing firmer as the story progressed and sang those hymns into the forefront of the melody. She pulled the edges taunt until the memory was crisp and clear and the smell of blood and sweat became as real as either she or Talon were. Then she sang, a deep thrumming melody, and let him see in part a shadow of what she could remember. During the battle with the man in dark armor, Lyrielle had reached out to Talon, to Arcas, but had been swatted aside. She turned her attention to another, coming to his aid, but she made him hesitate, just on enough for a man in white to step between them. She was there, across the entire battlefield, but her consciousness drifted across the vast reaches of where her essence touched. She let Talon feel the seating anger she felt then, hatred for a crime she couldn't quite remember, and a sense of finally getting what she wanted. So close, so very very close.

"There was a flash." Lyrielle closed her eyes as she remembered, and gave him those same feelings she felt at that moment. Searing pain, the feeling of one's soul being burned, crumbling, cracking. "He was was killed, as was the man you used to be, and at that moment all who were linked to him were struck by the blow of the king of Gods. The pain was indescribable, but it was nothing compared to what came next."

The battle faded, but still, Lyrielle continued, "We remember being in the king's palm. Such fury we could feel, it ate away. Cursed. He broke us, shattered us, tore us limb from limb, and scattered the pieces. Then he imprisoned our broken being in a cage that might never have escaped..."

The words were followed by a sensation, like being dropped from a high cliff and unable to fly, the sensation of staring into the depths of the sea, a terror that was indescribable. Pain as pieces of oneself were sheered away, not physical, but mental and spiritual in a way that could still be felt if one thought too long on it. Then as quick as it came the connection was severed, and Lyrielle withdrew her melodies from Talon and opened her eyes.

"Stories have no beginnings, but they do have an ending. That was the end of the tale of Arcas. The life he held up to that point was one of pain, regret, and foolish dreams." For some reason Lyrielle felt tired, weary not in the sense that she could sleep, or even that her body did not wish to move. It was a different sort of tired, the sort of tired one felt the moment the grief of an old memory began to fade just before the darkness of dreams overtook one's mind.

"That, little god, is a small part of what happened."

Posted: **Wed May 05, 2021 2:55 pm**

old new friends

70 Frost 120

In the distant parts of his soul, Talon could hear the clarion call of silver horns. He heard the marchings of thousands of heavy armored boots treading over blood soaked ground. He heard the ring of swords and the roar of beasts in skies that were split between shadow and light. As Lyrielle threaded her melodies into his own, he welcomed her presence. She touched upon something within him. Like a bell, the ring that sounded in the dark of that chamber made the aura around Talon grow brighter. The light of Talon’s nimbus grew stronger. He felt the scattered pieces of not just Lyrielle’s soul but the dissonant echoes of who he had been fall more readily into place.

A young man with sun bronzed skin and hair black as the midnight skies. His eyes were the silver that marked him as the Dragon King’s demigod son. He stood proudly but there was a deep sadness in those eyes that stared back at him. Talon felt as though he were trying to tell him something. He felt the whisper of it in the deepest reaches of his soul but something told him he was not ready. That time would come. The young man nodded then turned and strode out to meet his death with a heavy heart.

A Siltori woman came next. Her eyes were the silver of mercurial rivers. She bore the scars of many battles. She stood upon the deck of a ship that tossed and turned amid a stormy sea. A cutlass hung at her hip. Her attire bespoke of a life spent amidst the waves. Though the world seemed to howl in fury around her, she was unmoved. She saw him. She nodded to him. Then she turned her attention to the destiny that awaited her in the eye of that terrible storm.

Before Talon stood a giant. A Moratallen man that seemed closer to the ancient giants of old than of the half-giant in the present day. He had long black hair that was decorated with beads. His body rippled with power and strength. There was a fierce determination in the silver eyes that looked back at him. He radiated a sense of inner goodness that made Talon’s chest ache. The winds that gathered around him were cold. The skies were filled with roiling black clouds that were limned with sickly green light, an omen of the battle to come. The two of them locked eyes. Talon wanted to tell him not to go but he already knew what would happen. The Moratallen smirked at him, then turned to face his destiny.

Andrus looked at him grimly. His silver eyes looked weary and filled with the haunted truth of a man who had seen far more evil in the world than good. The broad shoulders of the dark skinned human were lowered. Around the both of them was a battlefield filled with what remained of men and women and monsters that had been locked in mortal combat. Behind Andrus rose the dilapidated corpse of what was once a colossal structure. Ominous clouds that shook with violent prismatic lightning swirled around it. Andrus closed his eyes, let out a breath and then met Talon’s gaze. The two of them shared a moment of silence before he too, turned to meet the darkness gathering on the horizon.

And then Talon was back on that battlefield. He felt the pain sear through his chest. He felt his eyes go wide as the breath escaped his throat. He heard the venomous words of the man who he felt he knew and did not know. Talon’s eyes rose to meet him just as those last defiant words rung in his ears. Their eyes met as he felt a power swell within him. The man’s face contorted in a grimace of pain as a hand went to his head. He looked to be struggling with some inner battle before he gasped. Staring back at Talon were not the hate filled, wrathful eyes of the demon that had killed him. His dark foe’s expression went from pained, to shocked, to horrified before his hand went back to the hilt of the sword. And then the world filled with nothing but a searing light that obliterated all in its path.

He saw the memories of Lyrielle. He beheld a blinding light that seemed filled with rage and sorrow. In it he thought he could just make out a tear streaked face before Lyrielle’s pain bubbled across his nerves. Talon wanted to scream. It was agony. It was eternity. It was terrible.

And then it was over.

He drew in a shuddering breath as he blinked. As he withdrew from the memories, he realized he had fallen to his knees. His hands were shaking. His whole body ached. Looking up he met the Whisperer’s eyes. He got to his feet unsteadily. Reaching out he braced himself against a wall for support. Sweat had broken out across his brow as he drew in heavy breaths.

“Is this our fate? Is this my fate? To be a puppet for an ancient being that I barely know or even understand? To follow a darkness that has no name?” Talon felt an anger well up inside of him. For how many thousands of years had this conflict been going on? What had happened on that battlefield? Who was that man that had killed him? And why did Talon’s heart ache with a grief he could not describe when he thought of him? There was a warning in the visions he had seen, no, the memories that had been shared.

“No more, Lyrielle. No more.” He whispered. Talon did not voice it but his words were spoken with two meanings. He could not handle seeing more of the memories buried inside of him. Lyrielle was right, to see and experience more would have overwhelmed him. But he also meant to end the cycle that was apparent to him. Something was missing. He did not know what. But he was going to find it. He had to. Otherwise, Talon had a feeling he would meet the same fate as those who had come before him.

“Thank you.” His voice was hoarse. He shuddered. Then Talon turned and began to hobble his way up the stairs.

"I am..."

Posted: **Sun Sep 12, 2021 12:16 pm**

Y O U R xR E V I E W

Lore:

Lyra

Persuasion: Hiding intent behind half truths
Persuasion: Separate a man from his guard for better influence
Negotiation: Pay back past dept with present accommodations
Negotiation: Use promise of what the person wants to get what you want in turn

Talon

Meditation: Quieting mental turmoil through repetitive breathing
Meditation: Resisting compulsory urges through focus and discipline
Meditation: Working through PTSD by focusing on the here and now
Intimidation: Using status to lend finality to an argument
Divinity: The Portfolio of Justice
Divinity: Navigating the Prayers of Mortals
Divinity: Hearing a call for True Justice
Divinity: Recognizing an act of True Injustice
Divinity: Perceiving the edge of the Aethereal Sea
Divinity: Calling forth the Nimbus

Points: 8 each

Injuries/Ailments: N/A

Loot:N/A

Notes: I'm so glad to see this thread come to a close, Talons entire relationship with Lyra has me both perplexed and excited to see where they go considering her plans for the future. <3

Legend of Ransera

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