"It's About Time"

Finn meets a blast from the past.

The Umbrium is the lower half and secondary seat of the Solunarian Capital and one of the dual-cities that comprises Solunarium Proper. Before the rise of Aværys, mining revealed the site of a ruined, underground city which they dubbed Oblitium “The Forgotten City”, the foundations of which were incorporated into what is now The Umbrium. Warmed by the magma that churns just behind the walls, the Umbrium houses the Palatium Umbrarum (The Shadow Palace) which was constructed directly beneath its sunlit counterpart, the Blazing Palace. This palace serves as the primary seat of government when the sovereign is moonborn, and houses the headquarters of The Silver Sentinels.

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Pharaoh
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His eyes remained upon the shield even after he spoke, though he found Finn’s reflected visage and appraised his response. It was as if he felt, through the filter of that argent ægis, he might offset the stony stare of a basilisk as ancient myths suggested. But Finn was no basilisk and it was only the human’s stoic response that seemed stony. Arkænyn frowned at the breadth of silence that pursued his request. Surely, this unconventional consort ought to have leapt at the chance to collaborate with one of Arkænyn’s stature. He might yet rise to rule the Luxium, where Finn’s power owed to the infatuation of his legitimate royal better. He turned sharply to face the up-jumped spoon-ear, only to be faced with the counterargument to his internal objection. It was not Arvælyn alone who’d broken with tradition to uplift Finn. That Radiant Crown of divine energy forced him to reckon with the fact that Aværys ratified it.

As Finn began to speak, Arkænyn’s eyes went wide and his breath caught in his throat. He was struck dumb and compelled to listen to Finn’s choir of voices compelling, commanding him. Seeing and hearing him, the notion of Finn’s majesty did not seem the aberration it had moments earlier. It felt right and righteous. The angle of his perspective shifted, but he didn’t realise he was kneeling until he was all the way to the ground.

I do swear, before Divine Aværys and Holy Varvara, that I am true to my word and to this alignment toward a common cause. I swear Vengeance against Thalya Derelicta before the Oathbinder and the Spiritus Vindictæ.” He bowed his head, and clenched his teeth. The Dread Lord of Oaths heard his words and knew his heart— And that the truthfulness offered was not tantamount to Fealty. Finn would sense the acknowledgment of Aværys, but the result was not so euphoric a thing as when he’d taken Thralls in the past. He had the sense that Arkænyn was deferential, albeit not entirely his creature. In the music of Varvara’s lute, he would hear the gentle tinkle of a thread-thin chain. One that might be fortified with time, but broken if pulled too taut. Under the eye of Akrivar, Arkænyn Princeps had fulfilled the terms of Finn’s command to the letter, but in the ambiguity of that oath, he was no Thrall, though he was deferential to the human… Part of him even acknowledging that Finn was his superior in the eyes of the Founders.

 ! Message from: Pharaoh
Note: Due to the die roll you made on Discord, Prince Arkænyn is not under the full effects of Thralldom as per the Fealty ability of Majesty, but he has become sort of a demi-Thrall to Finn, who now wields preternatural authority over him. If Finn wishes to exploit one of the Fealty abilities with Arkænyn, he must roll a d10. If he rolls 2-5, he will fail. If he rolls 6-9, he will succeed. If he rolls a 1, he will break the chain that binds Arkænyn to him. If he rolls a 10, he will fortify the chain rendering Arkænyn a true thrall.

word count: 583
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Finn
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Huh, he thought to himself. To the letter.

He gave silent thanks to the Twins, as well as to Akrivar, Whose Presence he had felt momentarily in a way his mind was busily compartmentalizing lest he go mad. Perhaps he ought to ask for instruction in contract law, the better to utilize what Aværys had given him. Though he had not spoken the oath, he had outlined it, hearing his Holy Father's voice resonating with his own. The words were now literally holy, and so he would try to abide by them as well.

Shifting the slipspace, he sent the sacred instrument to its resting place, and his crown dimmed down to nothing. Stepping forward, he ceased with the Sentinel stoniness and became more fully Finn. He offered a hand whereby he would grip the prince's wrist and help him up if he deigned to do so.

"And so," he said more quietly, "I will take you into my confidence and upon my quest, friend." He didn't speak of his regret that there was no other option for him if Arkænyn wanted his trust. Power didn't apologize for itself and he was called to power. Perhaps, given time and a joint success, the platinum prince might grow to respect his power and their friendship could grow without divine stricture, or he could turn on him when the duration of the pact was complete. The future was not his bailiwick.

"The Aurisian chronomancers would not treat with me. The Re'hyæan will. We must abide a while as he realigns with our time, and I must search the Sentinels' libraries for ways to protect our minds, spirits, and bodies from the dangers of tampering. There will be dangers beyond Thalya herself, who is dangerous enough. Wherever and whenever she is hiding, that... reality might resist us. We will have to be of one mind and one purpose to survive, let alone find success. I will bring her back to face divine and temporal justice if I can, but if I cannot, I will settle for her death.

"Are you still in?"
word count: 357
we keep on churning and the lights inside the house turn on
and in our native language, we are chanting ancient songs
and when we quiet down, the house chants on without us
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Pharaoh
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Arkænyn accepted the offered arm with no compunction, and Finn would find the long, lean figure rather light as he pulled himself to a standing position. His demeanour was quite different now than it had been when Finn entered, or even just moments earlier when his Crown had been engaged. Rather than trepidation or reverence, he seemed at ease... almost familiar. Earlier he might have balked at being called 'friend' by one who was a slightly antagonistic acquaintance at best, but now that didn't seem to be the case. They were in league and friendship did not seem so distant a prospect in the midst of their newly forged accord.

"Se Nāmorghūlilaros..." The prince paused at his own utterance in his first language. His first inclination to be obtuse felt inappropriate in the moment, and so he opted to translate, "That is to say, The Immortals are notoriously cagey, so their rejection doesn't surprise me..." As to the matter of the Re'hyæan,

"I will confess that I was aware of your intention to make an entreaty to the traveller, though I hadn't been informed you'd met him yet. I'll admit I'm disappointed to have missed that exchange, but I suppose there will betide other opportunities to meet that living relic. If you find that the Solunarian archives are lacking in information on chronomantic resistances, I should be able to access The Library of Lyren to augment our resources." As Finn clearly stated the terms, Arkænyn nodded firmly.

"She sought my death. Her own, Platinum son. The only thing she effectively assassinated was any sense of affection or kinship I once bore the bitch. She sent me away as a child. I barely knew her, and when she finally embraced me back into the fold, she absconded into seclusion at the first sign of adversity only returning to seek my undoing. As if I were the mistake that led to her crippling, when she'd been the architect of so, so many missteps. All that is to say that we are in accord." He offered his hand, to further ratify their compact.

word count: 379
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Finn
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"Se Nāmorghūlilaros," he agreed. His Silandris was slim, but growing.

"I won't ask after your spies in the Umbrium." He smiled. "Meeting him today was a gambit that paid off, though we will have to be patient to see how. And if you could get me into the Library of Lyren, I would be much obliged." Finn was, after all, a bard. He didn't imagine it could happen. Arkænyn was a special case and if he couldn't charm his way into meeting the Immortals as he charmed their prince, well, he would have to trust that the platinum prince would keep his word as observed by the Ash Knight.

There was a flash of empathy in his eyes as he shook Arkænyn's hand to seal their accord. If he was anything like the Umbrian elves, however, he would not thank Finn for voicing it. They seemed to see compassion as pity, and pity as weakness, and Finn couldn't afford to be weak in their eyes.

"I will send word on the morrow."

With Arvælyn likely working quite late that night, Finn assumed he would be reading treatises on chronomancy to put Syrena to sleep with the sonorous sound of his voice as he absorbed what lore the Vigilia had to offer. Then again, she might come at him with some astute observation that would leave him shocked and awed.

"Until then, vale, Your Serene Highness."

fin.
word count: 246
we keep on churning and the lights inside the house turn on
and in our native language, we are chanting ancient songs
and when we quiet down, the house chants on without us
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Finn
Posts: 1021
Joined: Tue Oct 20, 2020 4:20 pm
Location: Kalzasi
Character Sheet: https://ransera.com/viewtopic.php?f=43&t=916
Character Secrets: https://ransera.com/viewtopic.php?f=20&t=925

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Experience: 15 xp for Finn; relevant moderator XP for Pharaoh

Injuries: n/a

Loot: +1 royal starlit ride or die

Notes: You are full of surprises, sir.
word count: 49
we keep on churning and the lights inside the house turn on
and in our native language, we are chanting ancient songs
and when we quiet down, the house chants on without us
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