Legend of Ransera

Kala released the book, hands coming to rest together before her as she awaited his attention. It was clear that he at least was in closer communion with Mother Naori than she had ever been, and if he was a bit of a curmudgeon, she supposed most long-lived magi she knew were as well. The corner of her mouth twitched with suppressed hilarity as she imagined for a moment Mistress Feada giving Garel absolutely no quarter should he intrude upon her runeforging projects. She merely did what she tended to do in Feada's presence: observed and attempted to learn something.

She was surrounded by masterworks of enchantment, necromantic scrivening beyond her pale. The young Avialae woman was considered a bit of a wunderkind where magic was concerned, especially with necromancy which she had only recently begun to study in an attempt to understand Garel and her earliest ancestors in an attempt to answer the Crystal Lady's call.

The child of Akshara let herself be moved, but very nearly put up her back when he called her incomplete, even though she agreed with him. She had always felt as though she had wings; they just weren't there. As her power in Semblance had grown, she had seen the vestigial wings in her aura, a way to spot women of Avialae descent. Did the Father of her race intend to give her wings in fact? Her heart raced. The threat of old temper skittered into confused anticipation.

Magic was afoot all about her, and once he had her where and how he wanted her, she held that post with a dancer's discipline. And then the magic engulfed her, though she could hear him shouting over it. Choose a Path.

She was the key to the circle, and the magic flowed through her. Her body rose into the air. Her eyes shone a sky blue, lacking pupil or sclera. She opened her mouth and light shone forth instead of sound.

Kala seemed to see everything everywhere all at once, more than a mortal mind was meant to contain. She hadn't the faintest idea what to choose, how to find a path for her feet, let alone her life.

Instead, she reached out as she had learned to do here in Atoria, but she reached out to the One who had called her here. She sought unity with the Masked Queen.

Mother, make me an instrument of Thy will...

She was full to bursting. Kaus receded from her mind. Garel and Atoria became ghostly afterimages.

Kala was legion; she contained multitudes.

Choose a Path.

She did. She chose.

The entirety of Creation was so incomprehensibly vast, that it gave Kala an idea of how small she really was, a mote in the eye of the Masked Queen. But then everything was reduced to something more comprehensible by a mere mortal: a field of flowers; a forest of trees; a woman who was not a woman. It reminded her of home, in a sense, though the colors were darker, the lights more ethereal.

Now that the world had an up and a down again, she knelt before the One who held up half the sky. Kala honored all the Gods and Mistlords for Their places in Creation, but her soul had always reached out for this, the unknowable mystery.

"You honor me, Mother," she said, eyes downcast. For all her faith, she hadn't felt called to the priesthood; if Naori claimed her, though, then it was so.

"I do not have the wisdom to answer Your question, but I will seek to do Your will with what I have been given."

With all humility, that was the only honest answer she could give. She understood why the eldest Gods were the least likely to answer openly. Until people could understand the true nature of things, why would They listen to them babbling what they thought they meant? Even now, she couldn't meet the Goddess face to face. This was only a face. Kala hadn't grown into her own yet. She was only what she was, not what she had been nor what she would become. Naori knew her, but she didn't know herself yet.

"With help, I have answered Your call, Holy One. We found the Boundless Gate, found the wonders of lost Atoria. But we have left behind a home in crisis. Talon Novalys—Arcas reborn—was captured, his father assassinated, his consort taken, too. I will always do my utmost to enact Your will, but there is much to do..."

She wasn't so proud as to think she would be the instrument of the draegir's freedom, but he was gone, Baudric and the Kathar suffered, war was imminent, and while she respected her family's secrecy, she felt the time for action had come. The time for unity, evolution, and freedom had come. She could only hope the Great Goddess agreed so the Great Work could begin.

“You are no longer an idle participant in the mysteries of my sister’s fateful weaving, dear Kala.” Naori opened her hand and from it flowed the dust of the black rose petals. They spun into a soft wind being carried up into the skies and toward the looming forest ahead of her. She turned and fully regarded Kala, her expression impassive.

“You are a goddess. Much will be asked of you. Much will be expected of you. In the journey ahead of you, you must come to decide what it is that you will to be in the world.” The hint of a smile tugged at her lips. “I suspect we are unprepared for your ferocity.”

At Kala’s words, Naori nodded. A look of sadness crossed her features as Kala listed off the current state of her homeland.

“Arcas has always had the tenacity of his father. He will live. He will need your help, dear Kala, for unity is the thing he has so desperately longed for across the millennia. As for his consort?” Naori looked pensive. “That dragon needs to cast off the lie that has been twisted into him. A lie that you and another young god may yet help him with.”

She folded her hands together as the winds of the field caught the tips of her braids. She stared at Kala, seeing her for who and what she truly was.

“Do you know why I parted your people?” It was a rhetorical question, the tone evident even in the posing of it. Naori looked into the distance. Following her gaze, the clouds in the skies parted and there suspended in the heavens was the gleaming city of Atoria. There was a distinct longing in Naori’s expression as though she were remembering something from another time, another place, another era.

“You have within yourself the power to forge the Bond of your people in ways that those of Ransera have forgotten. A power that others would have abused. I think, however, in you my children of Old Avaelor will finally have a chance at the freedom that should always have been theirs.” Reaching up, she brought her fingers to brush over a bone within which was affixed a shimmering prismatic jewel. She rubbed a thumb over it absently. There was a long stretch of silence as Naori was lost in her thoughts. The goddess returned from whence she came after a period.

“It is time for you to return.” The goddess stepped forward reaching down to urge Kala to her feet. “Before you do, a gift.”

Naori leaned down and pressed a kiss to Kala’s brow. Whispers rose up around her as the dark of the shadows rushed forward and wrapped themselves around the young demigoddess. As they flowed into and around Kala, knowledge and understanding flowed into her mind. As Naori drew back, her form became more translucent. The field of flowers began to fade.

Blessed Kala, my dear daughter of Unity, know this...
Chaos is in all things. It is in the flowers that bloom with life and wither into death.
It is in the stars that burn in the skies. It is in the beauty of mortal ambition.
It is in the horror of the darkest deeds. It is in the wonder of the greatest triumphs.

Look to the dark and marvel at the mystery of the unknown.
Bring with you the freedom to pursue all truths, those great and those terrible.
For you are Chaos, and no matter how lost you may feel, you are never lost to me.

Naori imparted a great deal of knowledge, and perhaps some wisdom as well. There was power and awakening, and Kala could not pull herself together enough to respond in words. Still and all, the strange-eyed Goddess understood her; she knew it. Naori knew her better than she knew herself—Herself? At first, she had assumed that her divinity had been metaphorical, but she could still sense the greater reality around her, albeit not so clearly as when the Great Goddess showed it to her.

As Naori and Her realm began to disappear, Kala reached out to Her. She didn't want to be parted; she wanted to be united with the Great Goddess forever. But a part of her quietly reminded her that she always would be.

Reality shifted, and she was on her knees in Garel's circle, hands clasped to her chest. Something was pulling her backward; it didn't make sense, though she didn't feel fear of this unknown.

"I am the daughter of Chaos," she whispered, and when she straightened, she saw that one of the purple-veined night flowers was nestled in her hands. She brought it to her nose, inhaled its bouquet, and then braided it into her hair.

"All right," she said, more testy in tone than any save those who had known her in her youth might have heard before. She stood up at the insistent, physical urging, and promptly fell over again, yanked backward. It was only then that reality seeped in. Those phantom limbs that were only fully real in her dreams were real now, and one of them hurt where she had fallen upon it—white-feathered wings with a patina of pale gold. Kala had wings.

And then she couldn't tell if she was laughing or she was crying, and whatever Garel might be saying, she couldn't hear it over the rush of reality. She could sense the magic around her; much of it was beyond her ken but she could feel it in a way categorically different from her Rune. She could sense the connections between the Avialae without. Atoria drifting in the Aetheric Sea.

Eventually, she was able to pull her senses back within so that she was aware of the enormity around her, but not overwhelmed by it. She managed to furl her wings and stand up, feeling coltish as her dance-trained muscles sought a new equilibrium with her new center of gravity. But she wanted to see them, and found herself turning like a pup after its tail. Again, she was laughing, but there were tears of joy that she wiped away, smiling at Garel despite his surly demeanor as she carefully bowed to him, wings flaring.

"I am complete," she said, and realized she always had been, though now certain things had been unlocked, allowed to see the light and breathe the air.

She could sense Kaus then through their core bond, and Ceran and Indric as well through their light bonds. They were hovering outside the tower, respecting the privacy of the Necromancer, but drawn to the strange sensations coming from Kala. She communicated her wellbeing, though there was too much to share just at that moment as she spoke to the ancient man.

"Thank you for your help, my lord Garel. Is there aught else I can do for you or would you like me to let you return to your work?"

Garel leaned on his staff as he regarded Kala. Despite the frown upon his face, there was a softness in his eyes as he observed her reaction to the manifestation of her wings. With his other hand he touched the stem of his pipe to his lips before placing it between his teeth.

“You are, my dear. That, you are.” His gravelly voice was low, almost pensive. He reached down and picked up a book, the very book that he had barked at Kala to retrieve earlier. He extended it to her.

“I am not blind to what has happened to the Avialae.” A dark expression crossed his features for a moment. “Would that I could remedy the situation myself. I am but one old, old man. I think you might find this useful in completing your sisters should you rise to a level of competent necromancy.”

He sniffed as though with disapproval as he stared down his nose at Kala. Once she accepted the book, he waved her off.

“Tell those two love birds to get in here on your way out. We’ve work to do and I have an errand that needs to be run.” He turned away from her and shuffled over to a table upon which was strewn alchemical equipment that he began losing himself in.

---

“--return to Kalzasi?” Indric’s voice came to Kala’s ears as she exited the tower.

The boys were hyper focused on the form of two men near them. Both of them were Avialae, one of whom was seated upon what looked like a stack of crates. Synnar, his black hair tied back in a ponytail now, was seated. The broad, armored warrior had his arm around the waist of a man around whom the very air itself seemed to be brimming with barely contained power. He wore robes of blue and silver. A silver circlet rest upon his head. His white hair hung down to his mid-back in a pleated braid. He had the distinct look of a Siltori elf and between the two of them, this newcomer and Synnar, a striking family resemblance to Talon could be seen.

“I want to.” Synnar’s deep voice was soft. His expression showed a clear longing. “To see the Astralar Mountains and soar among their ebony peaks again? To see and wrap my arms around my Ranseran family again? It would be a joy.”

“But there is work that must be done in Atoria.” The newcomer spoke with finality. “Work, that may soon come to fruition.”

The newcomer turned his head to regard Kala. For the briefest of moments, Kala would be able to look just past the veil of the world around her. The newcomer and Synnar both looked remarkably different in that gaze, both of them appearing as something far more than the simple Avialae that were before her and yet still the men who regarded her with fondness.

“Yeosin.” Goddess. The newcomer inclined his head. “Come, Synnar. Garel has a task for us. One that he is eager to see completed, I imagine.”

With that, the robed elven Avialae stepped toward Kala. As he neared he gave her another slight bow before proceeding into the tower. Synnar stared after him with obvious fondness.

“Do not mind, Bri. He has always had a mind for much bigger pictures than this humble warrior can ever truly grasp.” The First Sword of Atoria rose to his feet, grabbing his helm and tucking it under his arm. “The journey home will be no easier than the journey here, I am afraid. As is the nature of traversing across worlds.”

Synnar looked over the four of them, pride and admiration clear in his gaze.

“Unity is upon us, young ones. Our people will be together again. Soon.” He gave Kala a smile before touching his hand to his chest. “Until then, may the Seven watch over you. Mother guide you.”

Synnar turned on his heel and walked into the tower. Looking to her companions, Ceran looked a little starstruck. Indric looked mildly frustrated. Kaus was laser focused on her, eyes blinking in shock as he gingerly probed their Bond.

“Yeosin?” He blinked.