Legend of Ransera

Kala would have been embarrassed to admit how much comfort she drew from the hand upon her hair. Her own mother had been cold for many years after the untimely death of Kala's father, and she was used to drawing comfort from her soul-bonded twin, but they had been equally young and confused in their mourning. Now, this dragonborn woman who was surely older than she was called her Star Mother. It felt right on a spiritual, almost ineffable level, but at the same time, there was a cognitive dissonance, as well.

She was fading.

With a quiet grunt, she pushed herself up, taking a moment to raise her face to the stars in the sky, infinitely older than her, but also singing "mother! mother! mother!" at her. Divinity notwithstanding, there was a great deal about herself and her place in the cosmos that she didn't understand. With a weary smile, she reached out a hand, not petting Asteri without permission, but offering him a touch if he desired it. Then she nodded grimly.

"I hate to leave you to the work." There was little choice, however, and Freya's plan was sound, inasmuch as either of them understood how any of this worked. "I will have my necromantic tools with me, and my friend, as well. If I can pull him along with me, then he can take the Kathar back with us." As she continued to speak, it took her a moment to recognize from Freya's voice that her voice was going silent. She looked down at her hands and could barely see them any longer. Her smile was rueful, and then it was all that remained of her like some Cheshire grin. And then even that was like a glittering bit of starlight, which shot skyward.


The following evening, as the stars began to pierce the sky, Kala secured a rucksack full of her carefully prepared tools—soul totems, sinew thread, blood liqueur—about her person in a manner that was comfortable enough. She was still getting used to existing with wings, even if she had grown up feeling them almost like phantom limbs. She still didn't know if that had been real or merely how her mind coped with the fact that her brothers had wings and she did not.

Another winged near-brother stood ready.

"Come, Indric," she said softly. "Meditate with me, and I will try to take you with me when the call comes."

The Avialae towered over here, but nodded in deference. He and his lover Ceran had finally found themselves a family in each other, and then in the Leukos twins, and they had been present if not for the moment of apotheosis, then the time before and after. Indric had seen Atoria and many other wonders, more than he could have hoped to as an orphan with no means of his own. Now he was a Silver Wing, a mercenary company that had become a sort of holy order though the object of their idolatry remained as yet only quietly divine.

He was dressed for tracking and battle should they come. This would not be their first foray into Imperial territory together, but he had grown up with an almost atavistic fear of the Imperium, their Obelisk, and the chattel slavery of their Kathar cousins. He was brave, wanting to return in order to save one, but she understood his struggle.

They knelt quietly and waited, finding a shared rhythm for breath, a shared peace in mindful no-mind, and then even their hearts fell into sync.

The youngest goddess was awake this time, and felt the pull. Through her bond, she shared it with Indric, as well. In fact, she opened the floodgates of their bond, hoping that the more entangled they were, the easier it would be to carry him with her.

"Cold," he murmured, and shivered, though he let the sensation pass over him and through him, not truly letting it touch the calmness of his mind.

Come, she bade him, as she felt the chill as well. It was like the stars themselves offered her their power, translating her into stellar light, carrying her aloft, and then putting her down. When she opened her eyes, she saw Indric with her, spun out of starlight much as she had been the previous night. Back home, Kaus and Ceran would check to see if their bodies remained or if they had somehow skated on starlight to exist in a state of flux there in the Imperium. At least, she believed they were in the Imperium. Freya hadn't specified. Kala had just assumed based on their previous meeting. She really ought to have asked.

He flickered, but he remained when she poured her own will into his presence. She was glad, suddenly worrying that he might not be made of strong enough stuff for such divine travel. She really, truly knew nothing.

Freya... Then, "Where is the patient?"

She didn't intend to be abrupt with the seeress, but she knew she would see her again. The patient was the one in critical condition. They had managed some miraculous first aid and field triage, but he needed a hospital and, she imagined, to meet Talon as Baudric had. Perhaps this one would be able to pull away from the cursed Obelisk and remain.

"Ah, of course." She smiled at Freya, acknowledged Asteri, too. "In the tent. I hope it wasn't too difficult... I melted before I could help move him."

"Freya, Asteri, this is my friend Indric." The Avialae straightened at what was a great compliment to him, but mere truth to Kala. She hadn't yet gotten so big for her britches that she couldn't have friendships with other mortals. "Indric, Freya the Seer, and Asteri, a potent star spirit. Our Kathar cousin is..." She laughed at the sight, but it was more out of relief than anything else. She saw his feet sticking out of the tent and sensed that he was alive. That was enough to relieve much of her worry.

"He is mostly inside the tent."

"Miss Freya," Indric greeted with a bow. "Master Asteri."

But then he fell quiet. To his mind, he was here to help his star lady bring this fallen cousin home and, if necessary, protect her as well. They were here on her power, mysterious as it was. Now, he began to map the slipstream around them. He had been to Dardouen, but he hadn't traveled extensively through the Imperium. Few Synnekar had, fearing for their lives, their dignity, and their freedom.

Kala, for her part, listened and, when Freya pulled back the curtain so she could see the patient, she observed. Her senses opened, augmented through her Rune.

"Well," she said finally. "I won't waste sinew thread on him when he obviously doesn't care about scarring." She smiled softly. "But I have blood liqueur and marrow gum which ought to speed bone growth and support the healing, especially if he isn't eating. A body that big, that muscle-bound, requires a mind-boggling amount of food." She and her twin ate a lot for their size, but their elder brother, who was closer to Indric in size, ate more than most two men combined. He was more difficult to move than a stone wall.

"Before I do that... I don't know if it will help you at all, but I can show you what I sensed of yesterday's curse. I have a different Rune from yours, and I don't know your trade. It might provide some context, however, to help you break more terrible curses in the future." She rested a hand upon an uninjured expanse of their patient's skin, recalling what she had sensed previously, and what she sensed now, the shape of the emptiness left in his aura by where the curse had been. It was already recovering, albeit slowly. Many things took care of themselves given time; it was the emergencies like the night previous where effort was required so a body could heal itself.

"If I might?" she asked permission before placing her fingertips delicately to Freya's temples. Then, she Shared. Sometimes, her Semblance parsed impressions as if they were one of her mundane senses with augmentation. When she was deep into it, however, it was its own sense. She didn't have the vocabulary in any language she knew to describe some of the feelings, so often she had to speak in terms of sight, sound, and the like, though that wasn't it. This way, at least, she could share those impressions directly from mind to mind, aura to aura, and hopefully Freya could glean more from it than she already had.

Kala didn't know how she didn't sense it coming. She had mastered Semblance and her senses were wide open. But she had missed it and now Freya was in danger.

Later, perhaps, she could consider what went wrong, and why she reacted as she did. But in the moment, she merely reacted. Indric came running at the alarums resonating along their bond. Kala threw off her cloak, whose glamours hid her wings from both mundane and arcane view. She mantled her wings, but rose off the ground without their help. Perhaps it was the starlight. Perhaps it was something else. The bluest of eyes gave way to black, sclera, iris, and pupil becoming a field of stars.

Desist, she ordered. We saved your life. Unhand her, or I shall take it back.

Her hand came up more for effect than anything else, and she squeezed it into a fist even as she focused on the Air in his lungs, turning it hard and immobile as stone. If he could breathe solid air, then he was more formidable than she imagined.

Release the seeress, or I will sever you from the Obelisk.

Her other hand came up and when she clenched it into a fist, he could feel the strangest thing: a physical body held a spiritual tether, a sensation he had never known. Unable to breathe, and a hand on his leash that wasn't a Handler's. Of course, she wouldn't kill him. He would pass out from lack of air soon enough, and she would release his lungs. She knew how to force his body to breathe. And she wouldn't sever his tie to the Obelisk; not yet. She needed him to want her to do it, and that would take time.

The diminutive woman might not be the first person one would expect to win a game of chicken, but today, she was that woman. At Freya's request, she allowed the Air in his lungs to move as it would and the tension in his slave-bond lessened. But as he kept his hands upon the woman who, while not a devotee, was someone she considered to be under her protection, he could still feel a tingle in his lungs and a hand upon the chains binding his soul. If he kept Freya hostage, Kala kept him hostage.

Indric was there then, and Kala raised a hand to forestall him.

Hold. He did.

She furled her wings, and began to negotiate.

"I am Kala Mizal of House Leukos. My companion here is Indric. The woman in your grip is Freya. She removed the curse afflicting your soul. We saw to your wounds and broken bones. Indric is here to help us get you to a hospital. We are not your enemies. You must be confused, disoriented. You have been traumatized. Speak with us. Violence is not necessary."

Though she could control her voice, she could not—as yet—control her starlit glow. She didn't know how he saw her, nor what he was thinking. She kept her Semblance out of his mind for the moment. Indric knelt at her side; surprised, she looked at him. She hadn't asked him to do so, but perhaps it was quick thinking on his part. A Kathar would be used to Avialae submission. As a woman, she would not fit into his worldview, but seeing another Avialae humble himself to her might key him into old, hardline habits, and perhaps he would be more inclined to obey if all else failed. Her fingers brushed affectionately through his hair, and then she rested her hand upon his broad shoulder.

The spangled expanse of stars cleared to reveal her normal blue eyes as she looked at the Kathar.

"What is your name?"