#you cannot force creation to walk a certain path

[morelorethenthereseem]

Braymourne is The land that the heart of creation lays, All around the heart of creation impenetrable walls and barriers were formed, except for north, there the mountains did the job. it’s not inhabited by elves or humans. But There are very very rare exceptions, those who made it in, and had children too.

The Braymourne collective (also called the old Gods faithful or “the order”) are Those who still grieve the gods of old. The Organization acts both as religion and government and was formed to preserve the ideals and rules of the gods after their deaths, Each of these were dubbed virtues, and as the gods embodied aspects of reality, certain individuals Embodied the Principles and ideals of the gods.

There are 19 virtues, but 8 were lost the time, here are the remaining 11 that are still known of today:

2 Creation, to create, make the world a better and fuller place. This covers art, architecture, cultural advancement, unfortunately, such a core value basically makes abortion illegal under this government, despite the other principles.

3 Protection, To protect, to protect yourself, and to protect others, To protect the order and protect the land, and to protect the heart of creation too.

4 Perseverance, to follow through and go on, To live. To continue. To never quit, a simple principle. perseverance is to walk through hell and arrive on the other side, A fortitude and inner strength

5 Allowance, to be allowed, to let one make Their decisions. Although this seems like a good tenant at first, it’s underlying implication. Is that something being allowed is not the default, you are allowing them to be allowed to do something, so to speak, but at least it’s encouraging people to do so, “within reason”

7 Understanding, to be empathetic, to put yourself in anothers shoes, the capacity to acknowledge and accept, the ability to understand, Or to agree, or to agree to disagree. Or simply just knowing what someone’s talking about.

8 Preservation, to maintain, to stop the towers from crumbling to dust, To keep your body clean. To keep the world alive, and to help those who cannot.

9 Reflection, The ability to reflect, introspect, contemplate. Ponder, to *think* about yourself, and you role in the world, And the worlds role in you.

10 justice, to see wrongs righted, they have the crooked be set right, To ensure recompense paid and wrongdoers punished,

11 cooperation, to comply, to collaborate, to obey and get along and not kill each other, To do what you were told when you need to and to work together to achieve something great.

13 wonder, to imagine, to see the world with a fresh perspective, To see the strange in the mundane, to search for the wonders of the world, to think of how miracles could be made.

14 transcendentality, to be more than you are, and to know that you are not forever, To leave behind you a better path than you had walked, to be great.

And 19 volition. To pray, to grieve, to trial your will, to test it, or to measure it, the will of the individual, and will as a force of reality. That is why each and every member of the order prays every single day. To grant meaning to the meaningless. May it raise the gods.

Here are the ranks and their structure:

Morner: a general faithful, without any obligations or authority within the order, except for under investigative compliance.

above the Morner are the disciples, those under direct control and care of the witnesses, usually serving as a custodians, or assistant.

Above disciple is the Witness: the lowest real position that holds any sort of power, usually residing over a local area, on the low end, they can take care of a single building all the way up to a few cities in some cases. Their obligations are mostly informative, keeping the organization up-to-date with local affairs, and keeping the people informed about the organization, spreading the word

Above the witness is the Guide: The guides are agents of the inner order, they hold executive power over any witness, however, such actions of a guide over a witness, must be filed under record and can be vetoed at any time, although, generally, the guides are only above the witnesses in certain scenarios they do command much more power, witnesses if required also double as internal affairs officers and investigators, however the power to act with such authority can only be granted by those above the virtues, but once granted, they maintain this power as long as they’re set task is complete, but, their every move is watched.

Above the guide is the overseer: overseer is actually a blanket roll with multiple levels of station. An overseer is usually assigned to a certain person of asymmetric rank, this can range form a witness to above a virtue, commonly the job of an overseer is to watch over and control a number of guards or sentinels, and is the only other rank able to issue direct commands to soldiers besides wardens. Overseers usually command units on their own, but sometimes they’re forced to cooperate with other overseers. Although some overseers do you have authority over others, to request the assistance of another overseer they need to file an admission of aid, but once the request has been approved the higher placing has complete authority over the other.

(Here is each level:

Officer (4-1) officers usually assigned to a witness, usually has control over a singular unit of guards ranging from 8 to 30, Although some 1st and 2nd overseer officers are known to be put in the assistance of a guide.

Lieutenant (4-1) lieutenants have authority over officers and are usually tasked with looking over a large number of troops, ranging from 100 and 300. They can, and usually do request the assistance of 3 to 1 officers. They can also make requests for aid from one of the elite inner units, and in extremely extenuating circumstances, they could even be given direct control over one.

Captain (4-1) captains have the capacity to command the elite inner units although this is rare, and only usually happens temporarily well a division overseer is busy. Captains have authority over lieutenants and officers as well as all of their previous privileges. Division overseer: a division overseer is someone who has the authority and capacity to completely oversee and command, captains, lieutenants and officers as well as multiple elite inner units,

division overseas, commonly work with the virtues, as each virtue has their own elite squad. Although a virtue technically has authority over a division overseer, it is fairly common for those above the virtues to give a division overseer extra special privileges, authority and command, making them ostensibly equal.)

Keeper: keepers are archivists and filers, where other ranks might collect information keepers Maintain it, they keep records. Keepers are permitted authority to ask for any information from any rank below division overseer, they also have authority to command guides to perform an internal investigation.

Guard: the way in which the rank of guard is positioned within the order is a tricky one, the only people who have direct authority over them are the overseers, the virtues and above, but they can be stationed anywhere from under a 4th overseer officer in the single prayer house of whatever witness there assigned to being directly under a virtue, if the circumstances permit.

Sentinel: these are the troops that make up the elite inner units that can range anywhere from a shadowless infiltration to the personal bodyguards of a virtue, to a juggernaut massacre. Only overseer captains, division overseers and virtues have command over them.

Virtue: virtue is the highest rank known to the public and lower ranks (with previously specified exceptions) each one aims to embody one of the 12 remaining core ideals, additionally, each virtue has their own inner elite unit, virtues have authority over keepers, witnesses, overseers, guides and sentinels and guards.

Devotee: “the secret hunters,” “the silent breaths,” “the whisper men.” “The utility knives of the order” Loan agents who can be sent out by lieutenants, captains, division overseers as well as virtues, guides, and wardens. The devotees fill a wide spectrum of roles with some overlap with the inner elite units, only on a strictly individual level. These guys are heavy hitters However They don’t like violence and they don’t have experience in battle, despite their power. They sometimes work as scouts, assassin’s investigators, etc. they are highly skilled in many areas and they do what they are told.

Warden: the judicial position among the order, they often work in tandem with guides who they are of equal rank to, and witnesses, keepers and even devotees who there above. although guides are responsible for internal investigation, the virtues can still veto their searches, as such guides often go to wardens who have special authority over the virtues. The wardens are to everyone else what the guides are to the order. There are the cops and the courtroom.

Enchanter: after an assassination attempt on the virtue of perseverance enchantment in Braymourne was made illegal to everyone but the government or those the government permits, an enchanter is someone permitted and paid by the government to enchant legally.

Affiliate merchant: merchants partnered with the order, They give a cut of their earnings to the order in return for certain negotiated things.

Founder: although not an official rank, it isn’t uncommon to know that there are those above the virtues, and logic would follow there Has to be somebody at the top of the order, so it was that rumours spread and common belief became that the founders whoever they may be, witnessed The Fall, and are still living to this day, a council that runs the order.

(order command structure.)

But no matter there rank All in the order still pray for the dead gods, it’s a test of will, or a measure of it, the will of the individual, and how weak will as become as a force of reality.

(Also of note This is only one of many organizations that worship the dead Gods, but it’s the only one that really knows more than nothing.)

So why do I tell you this all to you? Well, A Devotee Of the Braymourne collective known as “of the black bones virtue” was sent north from the heart of creation alone with an enchanted lantern to investigate the Many MANY claims That a few of the old gods are back standing in the land of life, So to speak.

Normally such claims would be ignored because of their absurdity but not this time, this time, it was too many…

The following is the section of the devotee’s journal that was written just after crossing out of the Ule ruins:

“It was seen.

Over the mountains, thousands of years ago.

There was talk of a great kingdom, And then there was the talk of the end of a great kingdom, after so long, I had assumed the peril would’ve died down a notch only to discover that now in our time as I am passing through it is worse than I ever imagine the peak of the chaos to be, I shutter to think what horror it would have been, to be here in the destructions prime.

Would it Have killed me not to think the mountains were the hard part?”

[basicsofislam]

ISLAM 101: Your Faith.Part10

Belief in the Divine Decree

What Does Belief in the Divine decree Mean?

This means firm belief that everything, good and bad, takes place by the will of Allah, who does whatever He desires. Nothing can happen without His will, and not even the like of a weight of an atom in the heavens or the earth escapes His knowledge. However, He commands His servants to do certain acts and forbids them to do certain others, giving them free will to do whatever they please without being forced to do anything against their will. He created them as well as their ability to do things. He guides whomever He wills in His mercy and misguides whomever He wills in His absolute wisdom. He will not be questioned about what He does, but people will be questioned for what they do.

Belief in the divine decree is one of the pillars of faith. When the Prophet r was once asked about faith, he said, “It is to believe in Allah, His angels, His books, His messengers, the Last Day and to believe in the divine decree, the good and the bad of it.” (Saheeh Muslim: 8)

What Does Belief in the Divine Decree Include?

Belief in Allah’s decree includes the following:

“We have shown him the way, whether he be grateful or ungrateful.” (Soorat Al-Insaan, 76:3)

The belief that Allah I knows everything and that He knew everything about His creation even before He brought them into being. His foreknowledge includes their provisions, their appointed time in life, their words and deeds, all their doings, whatever they conceal and reveal, those who will be admitted into Paradise as well as those who will be sent to Hellfire. The Qur’an says, “He is Allah, other than Whom there is no other god, the Knower of the Invisible and the Visible.” (Soorat Al-Hashr, 59:22)

The belief that He recorded everything that will exist according to His prior knowledge in the Preserved Tablet (Book of Decrees), as the Qur’an states, “No misfortune can happen on earth or in yourselves but is recorded in a Book before We bring it into being.” (Soorat Al-Hadeed, 57:22) The Prophet r also said in this connection, “Allah recorded the measurement of all matters pertaining to creation fifty thousand years before He created the heavens and the earth.” (Saheeh Muslim: 2653)

The belief that Allah’s will is absolute and cannot be frustrated or challenged by any power whatsoever. Indeed, everything takes place according to His will. Whatever He wills certainly takes place and whatever he does not will cannot possibly take place. The Qur’an says, “But you will not will unless Allah wills, the Lord of all the Worlds.” (Soorat At-Takweer, 81:29)

The belief that Allah I is the originator of everything, that He is the only Creator besides whom there is no creator, that everything in existence was created by Him and that He has power over all things, as the Qur’an states, “He created everything and determined it most exactly.” (Soorat Al-Furqaan, 25:2)

Man Has Free Will, Free Choice and the Ability to Do as he Pleases

“We have shown him the way, whether he be grateful or ungrateful.” (Soorat Al-Insaan, 76:3) .

Belief in the divine decree in no way implies that man does not have free will or that he cannot choose his own actions. This can be proven by Islamic textual evidence as well as by concrete evidence in the real world.

The Qur’an says, “That is the Day of Truth. So whoever wills should take the path that leads to his Lord.” (Soorat An-Naba’, 78:39)

Regarding man’s power and will to do as he chooses, the Qur’an states, “Allah will not force any soul beyond its capacity: It shall have the good which it has gained, and it shall suffer the evil which it has gained.” (Soorat Al-Baqarah, 2:286)

Based on concrete evidence in the real world, every person knows that he has the free will and ability to do whatever he wants. With these, he can choose between things. He can do some things willingly, such as walking, but he cannot possibly do some other things willingly, such as shivering or a sudden fall. It remains to be said that man’s will and ability can only take place following those of Almighty Allah, as the Qur’an states, “It is nothing but a Reminder to all the worlds to whoever among you wishes to go straight. But you will not will unless Allah wills, the Lord of all the Worlds.” (Soorat At-Takweer, 81:27-9)

If a person assaulted you, harmed you and robbed you of your money, claiming that he had done this because it had been decreed by Allah, you would certainly consider his excuse completely absurd and unacceptable, and you would definitely punish him and claim your money because he had actually done this entirely of his own volition.

Using Divine Decree as an Excuse to Commit Sins

The obligations of observing religious duties, abiding by divine commands and avoiding divine prohibitions is conditional upon man’s free will and ability to do as he chooses. Accordingly, the virtuous will be rewarded for choosing the path of righteousness, and the evil will be punished for choosing the path of wickedness.

Almighty Allah I does not impose a duty upon us that is beyond our capacity, and He does not want any one of us to neglect his religious duties by using divine decree as an excuse.

Besides, Allah I has endowed us with free will and the ability to choose our own actions and has clearly pointed to us the path of righteousness and that of wickedness. Therefore, if we disobey Allah, such disobedience comes only of our own choosing and thus we will have to bear the consequences of this choice.

Benefits of Belief in the Divine Decree

Belief in the divine decree has numerous benefits in people’s lives, including the following:

1) It is one of the best incentives to act in a manner that is pleasing to Almighty Allah in this life. The believers are commanded to do what they can possibly do, to the best of their ability, relying upon Allah I. They believe that whatever they do cannot possibly yield any results without Allah’s will, because Allah is the Creator of the causes and effects. The Prophet r once said, “Cherish that which gives you benefit [in the Hereafter], seek help from Allah and do not lose heart. If anything unpleasant happens to you, do not say, ‘If I had done such-and-such, such-and-such would have happened instead.’ Rather say, ‘Qaddarallaahu wa maa shaa’a fa‛ala (This is Allah’s decree, and He does whatever He wills)’, for the words ‘if only’ begin the work of Satan.” (Saheeh Muslim: 2664)

2) Belief in divine decree prompts man to realise his own self worth, and so he tries to avoid self-conceit and arrogance, for he knows that he does not know what has been decreed for him. This makes him admit his weakness and need for Allah I and thus urges him to turn to Him constantly. Generally, man becomes conceited when something good happens to him and becomes rather sad and dejected when something bad befalls him. Only belief in the divine decree will protect man from such arrogance in times of ease and dejection in times of hardship, for he knows that things happen according to Allah’s decree and His foreknowledge.

3) Belief in divine decree helps overcome the vice of envy. A true believer does not envy people for the bounties Allah has bestowed upon them, for He knows that it is Allah I who has granted them such bounties in the first place and that envying others is tantamount to objecting to Allah’s decree.

4) It fills the believer’s heart with courage and strengthens his determination in the face of hardships, for he knows that his worldly provision and appointed time to depart the world has already been decreed by Allah I and that nothing will happen to him except what Allah has decreed for him.

5) It instils in him the numerous realities of faith. Consequently, he constantly seeks Allah’s assistance, places his trust in Allah after doing what is required of him and always shows his need for Allah from whom he derives support to stay on the straight path.

6) It provides him with reassurance and fills his heart with peace and contentment, for he knows that what has passed him by was not going to befall him and that what has befallen him was not going to pass him by.

[metaoflocasol]

Magic Anon

Forced flashback to 3 events that lead to where you are now, seeable to outsiders

You are going down a path you will be unable to get out of. Be warned Vitch.

NO! NO! DON’T YOU DAR-!

You see a young Meta crying on the ground, a paper crumped in his hand. You somehow know that his father, the last family he had, was dead. He tried to abandon him and his people in a time of crisis. Meta is fully alone now, other than the dragon who keeps him bound to the dying world.

You see Meta as an early teen, standing alone in a bedroom with not even a bed or any decoration, just a cot, a chest, and a desk with a few books. He is reading through one of them as someone comes into the room holding a bag. Taking something out of the bag, you know it is a Prism Dagger, the tool used to originally drain the light for Necrozma. You know he hates what he has to do to save his people from certain death.

TW: death/murder

You see him walking into a clearing, where Necrozma is watching the sky. Meta sits besides him, resting on the dragon’s side.

“What disturbs you, young one? Your mind is covered in a fog”

“I’m scared, Necrozma… what is going to happen? What has happened? Why is the sky falling? Why has Locasol fallen into chaos? Why did he try to leave? Why do they not respect me or see me fit to live? Why can no one solve this? And, and-”

“That is enough, child. You are right, we don’t know why this is happening. The Genesis has remained silent about this whole endeavor, and the Gateway remains locked shut. Something is amiss. But we cannot do anything about it. As the Genesis commands, we must follow”

“But- are you really alright with being fodder for a higher being? Why would Arceus…”

“If the Genesis has no place for us, then it is our last duty as his creations to follow that command. You forget that I have been alive since the dawn of the cosmos, child. I was there when the Genesis first created the universe, I was their first creation. If the time has come to be put to rest, then I have lived a lifetime with no regrets. And you too, child. You have lived a life far beyond what millions of your kind could only dream of. Be proud of that”

“…I’m sorry, Necrozma…”

“Whatever for, chi-?RRRAAAAUUUUUGGGHHHHGGGG!!!!”

Meta had stabbed Necrozma with the dagger, the beast crumpling to the ground, unable to move. The life-light of the beast was being absorbed like in days of yore, only thing time, it was fully drained of its soul.

My cried as he spoke, “You may have lived trillions of years, but I have barely lived over 16. I am too young to die to the hands of a negligent creator. I am going to save my people, and end this apocalypse… I’m so sorry, Necrozma.

“Child……”

The Lord of Light was dead, reduced to only a hollow body and brain too weak to do more than struggle for life. Meta knelt, crying his heart out over the corpse of the only being he could every call a friend.

Message 3 of 3

[cosmicangel888]

SET THE 5D BEDDING ~ INFINITE = INFINITE

Never settle

Never settle

Never settle

Set the foundations of your 5D BEDDING ~ GRACIOUS LOVE, GRACIOUS RESPECTFUL RELATIONSHIPS & ROLES

God, Creation is infinite God has removed, taken you, moved those out of your life that had 0 respect, honour and equally yoked sense of self

From here on out -

Being compassionate doesn't mean you tolerate abuse; mentally, emotionally, spiritually, or sexually, physically

Be compassionate, be certain, and know all is One ~ yes, but you are not to be the stepping matt for those that simply choose to not be accountable for their life, health, woundings, and how they wound others in choosing degrading lifestyle; all must be equal in vibration - all must seek within to choose who they are - 

You cannot do the work and inner clearing, inner self love, inner self realization of Oneness with God for any

You can only do this, practice 5D for yourself and none have any right, nor authority to continue the games of entitlement, selfish gain from you doing the work

CHOICE = REALITY ~ ALL MUST CHOOSE WHO THEY CHOOSE TO BE ~ follower or maker of new realities

The healing must be acknowledged and accounted for all actions, deeds, that which harmed you and took from you -

~ Ascension is an inner sacred journey

~ All must do the work

There is infinite portals for learning, seeking, reaching out - and offer those that have trouble detaching from you such community and online resources

* free online searches for online counselling, online groups for support moving through healing

* free community outreach for substance abuse, and outreach support groups -

* show - when you choose to make yourself first

- The Universe will bring you what you are worthy of - because you choose to see it, be it, live it within yourself

You deserve unconditional love You deserve unconditional respect and honour of you, your unique expression, your unique voice, and sense of being

Your unique sense of self is everything Your soul is everything Your ancestors, guides, teams, God, all is helping you ~ supporting you - you deserve to reach out and be more of you God and Creation is about expansion, evolution, exploration, expression

- this is CREATION

Therefore, Look at your life every day

Do the basics for ascension

* Daily self care, daily self love,

* identify and release toxic energies, patterns, habits, and create in self love, and release and make it very clear to those that test you, pull on you, play with your life like it is a game - standards of communication, rules of engagement so that all boundaries are respected and met - otherwise you can choose to seek other outlets for safety and protection to ensure your rights, spiritual and human are being respected

* release what is projecting, acting, behaving to make you feel small and unimportant - these are not friends and it is ok to love from a distance and send light, but your role and your path is you - not doing the work for those that choose to not do the work

without any accountability - there is little chance of healing and therefore you become the siphoning well for others that continue to take, steal, theive, deceptive ways of taking, making your life theirs

these are deep wounds of 'no sense of self' and to take life force from anyone in any way they can; people use orgies, sex, drama, gossip, chaos, games, schemes, underground games and pyramids, sacrificing and we must discern every energy exchange before us - all are responsible for their own God life, light, energy - and all are responsible for their own healing - and clearing their karma

you do not have to accept hidden agendas for abuse ~ covens, cults, masonic groups that agenda control, taking, scheming, taking over and above others - these are karmic cycles and energies ~ so discern the cycles and step out - and move away

Walk away and move on - have them faced their choices, and beliefs - accountability is the only way to bring forth change and that comes from pure of heart -

All must want to change to ignite change - ©

* Ascension is a choice

Choose to heal and transcend and transmute - all are loved unconditionally but know the deep toxic patterns, and darkness, black magic spiritual war-fare is the last ditch effort for those to pull you back into warped situations and karmic mess due to imbalance, inner sickness and no sense of self

- NEVER SETTLE

All must do the inner work

All have equal access to God

- Do you choose yourself

- Any manifestation is now moving into a 4D-5D level - and will not occur unless you harmonize within a multi-dimensional perspective and knowing

Magic is the being Godly

No one is worth sacrificing your heart, soul, spirit, values, and morals to what is respectful human treatment

- We are here to care, make, create and explore our expansiveness, and express it as uniquely genuine as we are with GOD

This is our birthright -

No longer will we be of the death of the Christ,

His message was 'never give your life away to dominance, control, degrading, devaluing and disrespecting of the Heavens and its unique loving spirited knowing of all life, unity with all life, and the light body that is our destiny of ascension'

Jesus's messages were for each of us - discrimination is the taking of what is rightfully our own for the benefit of others - be it double standards, the abuses of the elite, the abuses of power, energy, and information, and the people to fit false narratives and need for power, dominance over others - corruption is and all get to choose Release any and all that is fixated in control, fear-based tactics, and domination

- ABUSE, CORRUPTION, CRIME, VIOLENCE is not necessary

--> ALL IS HEALABLE --> understand ascension, understand healing, woundings, how to reclaim your sense of self, being, remaking of you

- we are no longer 3D - we are moving, shifting, awakening

- all is a new beginning

~ > let go and move on out of disrespect of your life

- * daily self loving connection, care with you and how life is your canvas

The only way through our daily challenges and triumphs, is truth, honouring your inner spirit, and soul

Self love is everything

Never settle for conformed abuses, and limitation of your purpose, destiny, and voice to make a difference

More on Creational Realities;

Paradigms Shifting of Consciousness ~

Perfection of the Divine Plan for all life;

For private sessions, webinars, classes or consulting

~ Email me at JoannaCosmicAngel@yahoo.com

DONATIONs;

PayPal link here; paypal.me/JoannaLRoss

Blessings and light

Joanna

More on Creational Realities;

Paradigms Shifting of Consciousness ~

Perfection of the Divine Plan for all life;

For private sessions, webinars, classes or consulting ~

Email me at JoannaCosmicAngel@yahoo.com

DONATIONs; PayPal link here; paypal.me/JoannaLRoss

#ascension

[pruskita]

Tell us about your aus please? 👀

Cheers ^^

Well with I said I already have two aus that is still in the conceptual phase although one is already more developed

The first that for the moment I'm going to call "Kirby and the GSA" or KaGSA and the second that I'm going to call "Future of the copy" "FotC" just to differentiate them (these are beta names that may change for the better in the future)

KyGSA's is an au that brings together the game and the anime. Some anime characters do exist but not in the same way as anime, since this au focuses on the GSA, which is an alliance to maintain peace in the universe (being its creation when there was a war against holy nightmare companies) this alliance He is sending some soldiers and members to some planets that they see as in danger or that certain dangerous creatures live on the planet that have to be eliminated (like Kirby and the dark matter that lives in Ripple star) and how is it that the planets that are visited you have to join forces to prevent the GSA from creating chaos for your ideas

Meta knight's past and his old relationships with the GSA would be taken into account. Where does Kirby remember Tiff and Tuff's name. Who were Joe's parents. Why the hell Gooey is so afraid of Meta knight and some other things

In FotC it is a version of Kirby's future being a knight with a mission that he cannot leave, but he decides to have a little break with Gooey and a few more friends, returning to Pop star after about 10 years After 10 years the galactic crisis started again 10 years after Galacta knight broke out of his prison and completely lost himself The au was at the beginning relationship with KaGSA but in the end he decides to separate it, for which events from a previous one did not happen here, but many new ones did

Why does that Kirby look so much like that feared Galacta warrior? Why new dark matter similar to Puff are traveling the galaxy in search of something Why Pop star became a refuge for races and beings from other planets like the few fairies, their queen and their accompanying dark matter

A curious fact: in FotC Kirby has developed Pica syndrome, only Bandana knows that and tries to see how to help him. In KaGSA, every time Kirby feels a strong emotion and starts to walk, his steps leave a path as if he had stepped on some red substance.

At the moment I don't know how to take these two with me, I'm thinking of making a fanfic but I don't know how and on which page to do it, maybe KaGSA is the one that is most developed and the one that made the other comic even not yet but i'm thinking of one I know it's a lagra answer but I wanted to share this well without giving so many spoilers or so I hope

[avissapiens]

Avis' Subject Symposium

A Crash Course in Trance Pt 1: Files.

(Art by Acro @sodalite96/https://twitter.com/sodalite96 Used with their permission. Go check them out!)

So often new subjects come to me and they don’t know the first thing about trance. None of its mechanics or methods, and so it can be very daunting for them; to step into such a wide abyss without knowing what to expect and what is expected of you. Many of them, even experienced subjects, expect that 100% of the work is and should be done by the Hypnotist. In truth both parties, the hypnotist and the subject, must be willing and able. But while it’s more readily apparent what must be done in order for a tist to be successful in their endeavors, many subjects/potential subjects can have a hard time understanding what it takes to get the most out of their trance, both from pre-recorded files, and from live sessions with a hypnotist. So, I’m here to give you what is in my opinion, the essential Crash Course to Trance, starting first with trancing to files.

Location

Find yourself somewhere nice, darkened and quiet, where you know you won’t be disturbed. This is already a hard task for a lot of subjects, living with other people always increases the chance that one might barge in on you, eyes glazed over, drooling all over yourself. Or that someone’s reckless pounding from above might shake the abyss so thoroughly that it takes you out of trance. But here is the thing I will stress. While physical quiet is a good idea as it allows you to focus on the words and suggestions streaming into your head. What matters so much more is internal peace and quiet. A location where you can feel at ease and safe and secure in yourself. A locked bedroom surrounded by mountains of pillows. Your favorite plush armchair that threatens to swallow you almost as well as the Abyss of Trance. The peaceful morning route on the train whose path you know so well that you can be lulled into trance just by the rumbling vibrations of the tracks beneath your seat. Wherever you can be comfortable.

The ideal location for trance I'm sure does exist in some government facility or therapists office somewhere, where you can be dropped into an isolation tank and be brainwashed clean. But most of us will never encounter that. So what matters then is the ideal mindset for trance, which is one of peace, safety, trust and assurance.

Equipment

This is one of the reasons so many love using files. Because its barrier to entry is so low. All you really need is something to play the file on and a place to listen. This is in contrast to working directly with a tist where you need, at the very least, A good internet connection, maybe a camera, Another person who you trust and who might be wildly inconsistent. Or working in person which probably will require a whole location and time-table to get set up. No, Files are relatively simple and they are no better or worse than live sessions for certain purposes. However, like all simple things, they can be elevated by improving its ingredients. A box cake from the store and a home-made chiffon are functionally the same, but their difference comes in the ingredients and technique.

So for trance I recommend spoiling yourself a little, at the very least buy yourself some decent quality over-ear headphones. Many file-makers (myself included) add frequencies and binaural beats underneath the main track. These serve the purpose of training your own brain’s waveforms to a certain frequency, thus more easily taking you into trance. But they can only be detected and properly registered with some good headphones. Additionally, The encapsulation of headphones provides a more immersive experience, isolating you and transporting you through the trance experience like you are in your own little world. Trust me. $600 studio headphones aren’t needed, But a good quality wired $40 headset goes a long way and is multi-purpose. A decent quality chair or mattress also will serve you well, not just in trance but in life.

Focus

Trance is a very tricky state that, like all things, requires practice and patience to master. Staying in trance is like a tightrope walk, teetering gently between the realm of consciousness and awareness, and the oblivion of total subconscious and sleep. It is the liminal space between the two, that subconscious space that makes trance and hypnosis possible. It is the state where your mind is most open to total suggestion and where magical things can happen. So how does one walk the line between these two modes of being? The answer is focus. Or rather Half-focus. Focusing without focusing. With descriptions like that it can sound like some kind of Zen riddle, but that is often what it feels like sometimes. Now this is not a laser focus like you would expect in a classroom setting, no one is being tested here. It's a more gentle and subtle focus. Like focusing on the world around you. Focusing on the wind on your face, the rise and fall of your lungs; On the way your body just goes loose and slumps over. The trick is to go in and to follow along, to listen and pay attention and try to comply with the suggestions given at first. Suspend your disbelief and engage with it unironically and without pretense. If you notice yourself drifting, don’t try to force it back to focus. Simply let it explore where it wants and to carry on organically. Nothing in trance needs to be forced. Simply focused on and allowed to happen.

Many subs oscillate in trance, their minds ebbing and flowing like a Sine wave; wavering in and out of trance, one minute aware, the next minute completely blank and asleep, and then for a brief moment in bliss. But it averages out to trance at the end of it. One must also not fear dropping out of trance. Focusing too much on that eventuality makes it a self fulfilling prophecy. Just Focus-not-focus-half-focus and enjoy yourself.

Apprehension

So many subjects look at files and their mind begins to spin with endless questions and anxieties. Worries about “losing themselves” or “changing too much” or “doing things they don’t want to do.” It’s a valid set of concerns for a new subject, uninitiated in the true mechanics of trance and only knowing of hypnosis what is shown in the media. Evil villains and monsters brainwashing our heroes to do horribly enticing and arousing things. So ingrained is this idea that it even crossed over into the allure of hypnosis files. And while I won’t say it's impossible for that to happen, I have 3 comments on it to ease your mind. First, with Files, one of the best things about it is that the subject gets to control practically every single aspect of the experience. When you do it, how many times you listen, and whether you listen at all to begin with. While all files should be clearly labelled with Content and trigger warnings and given an explicit summary of what they are and what they do, we know that is not the case. The amount of “Mystery files” I've seen on various forums irks me to no end. But it appeals to some people. However, for those who are not particularly fond of surprises you have the absolute power to review the file before you trance to it. You can give it a fully aware walk through, or just jump through segments to look for anything that doesn’t suit your taste.

Once you’ve done that however you might still be conflicted about some content. Not openly averse to it, but unsure. Dumbing down and IQ reduction are probably number one on this list. People are so terrified of somehow losing everything when they learn to stop overthinking things. For these concerns my second point suggests Introspection. Ask yourself “Why do I/Don’t I want this?” “Is it really as bad as my anxiety is making it out to be?” Because if you like something a lot, and really want it, then why should you deny yourself it out of fear? Even aside from dumbing, many desires are tinged with this air of guilt or fear. Terrified to acknowledge or grab hold of what we truly want and own up to it. In my estimation Hypnosis can be one of the best ways of dabbling with those desires because in trance there is no shame or judgement. Finally, my 3rd point says you don’t have to worry. If you really don’t like a suggestion you can always leave it behind. Your mind has built in fail-safes to reject suggestions you haven’t agreed to. A file cannot make you do something unless you want it, at least subconsciously. The old cliche goes “All Hypnosis is Self-Hypnosis” and what that fundamentally means is that as a subject you are the one who decides what happens. You consent and go along with things and allow them to happen to you. It is your desire, your focus, your arousal and your own subconscious that allows hypnosis to work. Subjects have more power than they know. I really hope it assists some people in vibing better with trance and files. I’ll be putting out another version for Live hypnotists later this month.

Thanks again to Acro for letting me use their Art, definitely go and support them on twitter. And If you want to support the creation of more hypnotic experiences that might help you practice that balance of focus then you can do so by subscribing to my Patreon, or to my Youtube channel. And if you want to interact more closely with me and my supportive community you can join my Discord server.

[the-iron-orchid]

BOOK II: THE HIGH PRIESTESS

Chapter 1: The Seer  (~2330 words)

Warnings: None

Back to table of contents

The landscape is desolate, a place of tawny sands and little else. The sky overhead is oppressive, thick with dark, lowering clouds. Where the two meet, the slim line of the horizon pulses with a viridian glow.

My arms hold fast to Asra’s waist, the scent of his hair in my nostrils. Beneath us, I feel the loping stride of a great beast, shaggy and immense. I realize that I must be dreaming... and in dreams, I have made contact.

“Mast -” I stop and swiftly correct myself. “Asra, where are we?” I ask him. It is only then that I notice the path of shining obsidian before us, snaking ahead to the horizon - clear, and yet ever-changing, its reflection of the sky above further confusing the perception.

Asra says that we are far enough away... but for what?

For answers, he says. For clarity. He senses a terrible storm on the horizon; something is changing, and not for the better.

I am instantly reminded of what the Countess said, her dream-visions of a terrible future, which must not come to pass.

Asra tells me that soon we will reach a crossroads, a nexus, a liminal place. He says that I will make a choice, one that changes everything for me... and for others. I feel his hands over mine, squeezing very briefly. But they are trembling, just a little, and he lets go hurriedly - as if the touch might burn him, or me, if held too long.

A chill wind rises around us, bearing the sands up with it in a vortex. It blots out first the landscape, then the horizon… then everything.

The last thing I hear is Asra’s voice: “Rest now, ya albi. I'll be back soon.”

---

I awaken to late morning sunlight slanting through the small windows - rather later than I wanted to sleep, but it seems that the previous night left me exhausted. I stumble into the kitchen, yawning, and rouse the stove salamander so that I might brew a pot of strong tea. He, too, needs to use his abilities regularly, lest they cause him trouble. If I am to be out, he should have a good round of exercise first.

Over my tea and a scone that has seen better days, I consider what I should bring with me to the Palace - a change of clothing, spell components, my current journal… I’m certain that they will be able to provide me with writing instruments...

It keeps my mind off of my strange dream, and its portents. For now.

Fortified with multiple cups of tea (the scone, not especially improved by toasting, was left out on the doorstep for the pigeons), I pack my things. The bag that Heron made for me is very special - it holds much, much more than it appears to. Then I set about readying the shop for my absence. I dust down the counters, and ensure that the stove salamander has a supply of coke to consume.

I go up to the rooftop to water my plants, such as they are. Heron has a lush rooftop garden that provides us both with herbs and vegetables year-round; I have a planter box full of pretty flowering weeds. But the basil is doing very well in its bucket, and the aloe in its large bowl. There is also a forgotten bean that started to sprout, now residing comfortably in an old mug with no handle. Hopefully I won’t be gone so long that they all wither in the midsummer sun… well, the aloe will survive, I am sure.

When I come back downstairs, I must turn away a few customers, hopeful for a reading. Everyone wants to know what the future holds. 

If only I could ask the Arcana about the past, everything that came before the last three years. Three years of struggle and pain, of learning to be an adult human all over again, after whatever accident or illness took that part of me forever… for the most part. Once in a while, a dim memory will float by, like a distant iceberg on the sea of my mind. To try and grasp such memories is to invite pain and terror, and so I let them go. 

But sometimes, there are things that I know or can do which I did not learn in the last three years with Asra and Heron. I must assume that these come from Before, written so far below the surface of my mind as to escape erasure. I dance fairly well, and I sing better than that. And while Asra and Heron are always cautious in how they teach me, I very often feel that the small, shallow pool of my magic bubbles up from something much deeper, an underground ocean in the caverns of my soul.

It is a place I cannot explore, not even with the seemingly unending patience and help of my teachers. When I have tried, it leaves me bedridden for days, my body unresponsive, my mind a maelstrom of vivid hallucinations. Giants, ghosts, talking animals… a deeper dimension to my relationship with Asra, which is almost certainly wishful thinking on my part.

They tell me that my power springs from something very fundamental and dangerous, the primordial Chaos that underlies creation. By the same token, Heron’s magic springs from the primordial force of Order, and Asra’s from a direct connection to the Magical Realms that lie beyond our own. Each of us is something different, and yet the same.

They both tell me that I’m making wonderful progress, that my power and ability will continue to grow; it simply is not a linear progression. Magic grows in fits and starts and flashes of understanding. 

I hope they are right.

As the day wears on, I must be on my way to the Palace. I thoroughly lock up the shop, tracing the wards on the doors (not that this seemed to help against last night’s intruder). As I am doing this, a sudden prickle down the back of my neck causes me to start in alarm - a huge shape has materialized at my side, seemingly from nowhere.

Eldritch energy immediately crackles around my left hand, but I rein it in - they are doing nothing in particular besides looming, so large that they block my access to the side alleyway entirely. Two glinting eyes watch me from within the depths of a rough hood of furs, draped over a massive body that is crossed again and again with ropy scars. 

I clear my throat. “Er, excuse me… I need to pass through there.”

For a moment, they simply continue to look at me. Then, they shift their weight, and start moving out of the way. There is a strange muffled clanking, as of chains.

“Thank you.” I nod curtly, settle my bag on my hip, and start walking past the large figure.

“He will return. Though uninvited.” The voice is deep, so deep it’s like the thunder of a waterfall. “He will offer you an escape when you need it most. Turn him down, or you will fall into his hand… just like the rest of us.”

I pause at this apparent prognostication. A teller of fortunes, I know a seer when I hear one.

“Take this, or my warning is for nothing.”

I turn back to the person, curious. The light just barely strikes two glimmers of green from within the hood. Pinched between the huge thumb and forefinger is a little leather pouch on a thin cord. Grudgingly, it seems, the figure holds it out to me. I reach a hand out, palm up, and they drop the item into it, as if unwilling to touch.

And without a further word, they turn and shuffle away. Oddly, no-one seems to take notice of the hooded figure, despite their immense size - normally, people would be gawking, pointing even.

How odd. I scrutinize the tiny bag in my palm with my magical sight. It radiates a faint aura of protective magics. I glance up again - but the figure is gone.

The pouch is well-sealed with complex warding knots, and the leather is inscribed with a sigil. Bringing it to my nose, I smell the warm, woody scent of myrrh resin.

Philosophically, I hang the little pouch around my neck. My magical sight shows nothing malicious in it… and I can use all the protection I can muster, I’m sure.

I step into the flow of traffic and noise as I cut my way through the bustling Market, but I hear little of it; I am lost in my own thoughts. Who is the he spoken of by the seer? Julian tried to give me some warning or other about Asra… but I’m not sure I credit that. He seems to have some personal vendetta. Julian himself, perhaps? What more warning could one need about a wanted criminal?

As I climb the steps that lead into the market plaza, a black shape catches my eye - it’s a large raven, perched on one of the lines of colorful lanterns that crisscross overhead. The bird looks back at me with one beady eye, blacker than my own, then croaks and turns its head. I, too, turn my head, following its gaze.

...and my heart stumbles and skips a beat as I spot Julian Devorak, walking through the crowd as if nothing at all is amiss, his face bare to the world... and unblemished. His temple shows no bruising, no hint of a wound where last night he bled.

He hasn’t seen me yet. Half of me wants to flee, but the other half is intensely curious as to how he can walk about so freely, a fugitive from the law. And how has he healed so quickly? 

It is this second half that sends me after him. 

Unfortunately, this means I must move against traffic, and I am not large. I also don’t want to form an obvious eddy in the crowd with my movements. Devorak is making his leisurely way along the market stalls, seemingly without a care in the world. Is he looking to get caught? Wanted posters litter the city, and between his height and that profile, it’s not like he is anonymous in any way. An eyepatch only distracts so much.

The raven gives a sudden shriek, and Devorak turns, our eyes locking for a frozen moment through the crowd.

And then a cart passes between us, causing me to step back involuntarily. When it is gone… so is he, vanished as if he had never been there at all.

I pause, traffic flowing around me, and wonder at my own actions. The man is a wanted criminal, maybe even a killer. Why on earth would I put myself in danger by following him around, no matter how curious I am? Shaking my head at myself, I rejoin the foot traffic, resuming my interrupted journey.

Maybe it was Julian that the giant of earlier was warning me about.

A voice cuts through my reverie, a voice I know. It’s Selasi, the baker, whose stall Asra and I often frequent - one of the small handful of merchants who seem unfazed by us. He asks if I’ve eaten, saying that there are spiced pumpkin loaves fresh out of the oven, almost cool enough to eat. He cajoles me to sit and talk with him in the meantime.

A pot of tea isn’t enough to fuel my day. My stomach rumbles to resentful life as the scent of the spiced bread reaches my nose.

“Well… I can’t stay long,” I tell him. “But I am starving!”

Selasi laughs and waves me to the back of the booth, where I seat myself up against the sun-warmed wall of the building behind.  An enormous orange fluff of a cat appears from under a table, and rubs itself against my side. Absently, I scratch it between the ears.

The baker offers me a steaming cup of tea, asking after Asra. 

“Oh, out on a journey again.”

“Of course! Where to this time?”

“I… don’t know, actually. He didn’t say.”

Selasi frowns slightly. “Really?”

“It seemed really important. Maybe it’s a secret.” I shrug, sipping my mint tea.

The baker folds his arms and shakes his head with a sigh. “Nothing new, I guess. Your Asra on a mysterious journey, that is. But what about you?”

I lift my brows. My Asra, indeed. “What about me?”

He grins widely. “They say that the Countess’s own carriage was spotted here in Center City, late in the night. You can’t miss it, not with all the escorts on horseback. Circling around not far from your shop, even.”

I do my best to cover over my surprise. Selasi loves gossip as much as he loves to bake, and maybe even more. It’s harmless, but I don’t know that the Countess wants her business all over the market.

“Really? I wonder what she was after?” My stomach chooses that moment to let out a long growl, and I laugh. “Me, I’m just after pumpkin bread. I’m a simple creature.”

Selasi laughs, throwing his head back. “Keep your secrets, then, just like your master.” He shakes his head and pulls a fresh loaf from the cooling racks. “One hot for now, and one cool for the road?” he asks, and I nod, giving the cat one last pat before rising and placing my empty cup aside.

Selasi wraps the loaves for me, and I hand over my coin. I place the cooled one into my endless bag before taking a big bite out of the warm loaf. The outer crust has a pleasing bite to it, the inside soft and fluffy, the spices fragrant. “Mmph! Delicioush azh alwayzh! ’ll zhee you lader!” I say around the mouthful of pumpkin bread, waving as I exit the booth.

“Don’t keep the Countess waiting!” he says, almost making me choke on my bite of bread.

I suppose it’s true what they say… the only thing that travels faster than magic is gossip.

[raguna-blade]

Radio B and B: Episode 1

@flashfictionfridayofficial​ congrats on your 100th Prompt.

Hello hello dear listeners to the space betwixt sleep and death, between dreams and reality.

This is Radio B and B, coming to you live.

It's been too long hasn't it? Or not long enough if you were to believe some of our call in members. Tonight, here at the edge of creation and before the black of time we have quite the show for you.

Ah but who am I? For some of you this is our first meeting and it would be all too rude to not introduce myself.

For the space of this program, you may call me The Host, and if you would I would greatly appreciate it.

Now then, for tonights theme...

Oh yes, quite the dramatic one isn't it? I teased it last time, but perhaps I was a touch too oblique if even our long time thinkers couldn't puzzle it out.

'Who took too great a fall' is not the most detailed, but I will admit to playing a bit of a trick on you all. Many of our viewers gave answers such as the Morning Star, Humpty Dumpty, and Even that most unfortunate fellow in the southern most tip of the planet Earth who had a rather unpleasant meeting with the ground following a teleportation trip gone quite awry.

The trick, of course, was that I was speaking not of an individual, but a group.

Tonight, we ask the question, What makes a Fallen Angel?

Yes yes, I can feel your disdain already. Them, again? Do they not have enough of a stranglehold on our era? Is their time in the sun not far too long?

But my dear listeners, I do not think that is so! For what is a fallen angel if not a Steward of this World and others? Those born and bred to guide and protect, for whom the idea justice is not mere creed but makes up the deepest and sweetest aspects of them, down to the blood and bone?

Can you not think of one in your life who fits the description? An Idol you found lacking, a hero who became their own darkest mirror, a god mired in the muck of right and wrong?

Yes that's what I thought.

So!

The thought of it is quite alien to me dear viewer. I am, such as I am, a being who cannot do much more than observe. The taste and feel of the thought of falling makes no sense to me, though I can puzzle it out in a logical sense. I'm sure some would be quite entertained if I were to go into it but I'm afraid this isn't The Host's Personal Musing Hour, though perhaps I should pencil it in for the next one.

No, This is Radio B and B, which means of the viewers now is the time, now is the place, and if you would give a light preference to those who are new It would be most kind of you to let them reach out first to speak if they will.

And...

Here we go! Welcome, Welcome, and I believe you are a first time reader?

“That's correct,” the thing in the appearance of a young lady said.

Wonderful. And do you have thoughts as to the question?

The Thing nodded.

“I was...Well I am one of them, so I thought, perhaps I would be the best to answer this question.” the fallen angel said.

Oh ho! I understand. Would this be a personal tale or more...?

“The thing of it is, It's not the same for everyone?”

Not a universal experience hm?

“Not in the least. In the old days, when I was young I mean, the only ones who ever fell were well...Evil.”

Subjectively?

“Objectively. Or, I mean, I suppose that's not quite right. They were disobedient in many cases, of the rules put forth by our creator, but in many ways that disobedience lead to hurt and harm so I thought, we all thought, oh this is evil. This is wrong.”

It is hard to say what is an acceptable level of harm before it crosses over from needs or fun into well...

“Yeah. But things were simpler then. At the dawn of things, or at that dawn at least, it was straight forward. Life was hard, it was brutal, it was short. For mortals, for those part of the whole...of everything I suppose, it was hard enough to simply survive. So to harm your fellows, oh it was wrong. Punishment was necessary. Justice must be meted.”

It did not stay so?

“I don't think it ever was, but we, I was young. Like kids, we made assumptions, and for most of us who stayed at the time...At the time we simply understood our creator to be correct, and didn't need to put forward additional thought. This was life, this was our lot, and it wasn't going to change.”

And then it did.

The Fallen Angel nods.

“What do you understand of theft, if I may ask?”

Hm? Well, it's the taking of what doesn't belong to you.

“Right. For me, the moment I can pin to my descent, was that by the rules of it all, theft was theft was theft. That's how I understood it at least. So when a thief made it past the gates I was...Livid. They were a thief! They Stole!”

A plain offense.

“As simple as flying yes. And yet I was told, no, this was fine. It was acceptable here. But why? It made no sense that this thief, that they were somehow deserving of all this when they had done what was objectively wrong. And uh...Here's where I went awry.”

Because of thieves?

“Because I didn't understand everything. Mortals are built different from us. They have a distinct inability to know and that leads to problems. It leads to errors, it leads to dirty dealings. Unlike us, well, we knew so there was no way we could be wrong.”

And your creator told you this?

“You know, no they didn't. In fact, I think in some ways, our orders were a test we failed, at least those of us who stayed without giving it a further thought. We listened, and we knew, and what we did with that knowledge was...Nothing. Not unless ordered. Not unless it fell within a strict set of rules that we viewed the world, viewed creation through. While remaining Angels, we could not fall, we could not disobey.”

And what did your creator tell you?

“To protect them. To love them. Guide them when they walked off the path, though we were no more told the path than they were in truth. But to falling.”

To falling.

“Theft was wrong, and so, obviously, I would see to it all thieves were punished dutifully. Before they died.”

Oh.

“Right? My thought was, well if they died and made it, they were technically fine, and technicallities were well..Failure states. Perfection shown to be imperfect. But while they were alive, well, I could see to it as I pleased, within bounds. After all they were thieves.”

The Fallen Angel laughs.

“It was so stupid. But I kept up with that for so long, punishing thieves as I came across them, until one day I realized...What's theft?”

Taking something that doesn't belong to you.

“Of course! If you take something that doesn't belong to you, then you're a thief. So, by that logic, after you've exchanged something, simple words, goods, services, whatever, it was no longer theft. It was as easy as saying someone could have something and that was it.”

I must confess I'm not quite following you at the moment.

“Well, if you made something, it's yours right?”

Certainly.

“And if you made it for someone, it's theirs.”

It follows.

“And what if you made something for someone, but you were not well...Compensated properly? What if you were forced into the situation? Was it still something exchanged if you were already compelled?”

A tad murkier I think.

“A lot murkier. But what I realized was many of the people I was inflicting justice upon could not be thieves by the definitions I used. They were the ones being stolen from, so for them to take what was stolen back was...Complicated. The act was theft, but the act wasn't theft, but was it still theft if you stole from the thief that robbed you in the first place?”

A classic logic error.

“Yeah....I uh...Did not handle it well.”

That sounds encouraging.

“I dropped a meteor.”

You handled it, I will say, spectacularly.

The Fallen Angel laughs, with a slight edge of panic.

“See the problem with knowing, which no one ever will tell you about when they do, is that when you know, it's extremely easy to justify anything. That doesn't make you right, though you may in fact be right. And I looked at what existed of creation then and there, and realized there was no way that as things were that things would be likely to improve. Likely to improve. Not certain, but likely.”

Ah. I think I understand.

“Without some massive shock to the system, the mortals of those times were almost certain to continue on forever. So I opted to give it the shock it needed.”

And that's when you fell.

“Yeah. If the world was to stay the same, if I were to guide and protect and all that, I couldn't merely prevent. I couldn't...Well, it didn't matter really. I was wrong. That's not what caused me to fall though.”

The meteor was not sufficient to cause you to fall.

“Oh no the meteor was definitely enough, but that wasn't the bit that did it. When I thought This is wrong, it needs to change, that's when it happened. I no longer knew, because I had my doubts and that, I think, was what did it.”

The doubt?

“Yeah. I won't make excuses for my bad actions, they were wrong, but the moment I thought that things could never improve, that I actively disbelieved in it? I fell in an instant.”

That seems rather cruel.

“It would seem it right? But I think I get it now. The world wasn't certain to continue on that way. But I knew, or rather I knew, that it would. I couldn't believe in something better. And that's the trick, though I wish I had the revelation over something more chill like never thinking I'd get a better pastry or something like that. It'd be cuter at least.”

Agreed.

“But, for Angels at least, or at least my kin, Knowledge isn't the same thing as Believing in something. And while we are up there, we know it all, so we can't really believe in it. There's no...Core to it really. It's empty.”

When you say empty you mean...?

“In the same way I could persecute thieves for stealing, while not thinking further and wondering what it really means to thieve, merely knowing doesn't do anything for you If you don't have something to do with it. Like...There was this book I liked, though I'm not sure when it was written in relation to here-”

Yes.

“But basically you KNOW the sun will come up the next day, but that's not really true. Any number of things could happen between the time you close your eyes. The wider universe could snuff it all out in an instant. You Believe the sun will rise, but that necessitates being able to doubt the sun would rise in way. But because of that, you can believe in bigger, better, and stronger things than mere facts. But this leads to errors, it leads to bad actors, it leads to well...The murkiness of life.”

And this murkiness then is what you think goes into the making of fallen angels like yourself?

“Yeah. It's...Well I suppose it's not very exciting. And maybe I explained myself poorly?”

Oh no, I think not in fact. Though, I fear our time is coming to an end. For you at least. I believe you'll be awake in a few moments actually.

“Oh is tha-

A wonderful guest they were. Well listeners, what thoughts have you on the subject? Did you learn something, or find their answers as infuriating as the insects that crawl across your skin? Did a new door open up for you, or slam shut as the heartbeat begins again.

Today was a shorter program than most, but then that's how it is on Radio B and B.

Until the next time.

[deploybits]

You are lucky some types of torture are legal, i now will have an anxiety attack looking at the sky

So here we are... The Ultima Weapon will almost certainly be housed in the depths of the complex. This is it, my friend! Gaius! Ah, Cid, my boy... You are late. There is something I always meant to tell you, yet the time never seemed right. It concerns your father. ...What of him? In the winter of his years, Midas came to abhor his part in Meteor. He told me that he wanted nothing more than to wash his hands of the whole sordid business. But he did not wash his hands of it. He helmed the project until the day it killed him! Come now, Cid... you must know that he did not have the luxury of choice. By the time he realized his error, it was too late. Meteor had him completely in its thrall. Shortly before his... transformation, mayhap sensing that something was amiss, your father confided to me all the regrets of his life. Most of them concerned you. Early on in your career, he realized that while you had a talent for devising armaments, it would never fulfil you. Long before you knew your own mind, he saw that you would be far happier using your knowledge for peaceful purposes, and the thought touched him. He was a changed man for it, though he could not let it show. You blew holes in this place just so you could say this to me!? What is it you want, Gaius!? I want you at my side, Cid. Take up your father’s mantle, and become the Empire’s lead engineer. It is your destiny. My father had a change of heart - you said so yourself! Besides, I have long known my destiny, and I assure you, it lies not with the Empire! A pity. And what of you, adventurer? Will you not consider making common cause with me? No? And I can expect no better answer than this? So be it. It was your strength that made me proffer my hand in friendship, and it is your strength that makes me proffer now my blade. Save as an ally, you are too dangerous to be let to remain. Run, Cid. Or stay. It makes no matter. You cannot escape the past. Gaius, wait! ...Damn it! Knowing Gaius, he is headed for the Ultima Weapon. If we find him, so too will we find our quarry. With these instruments, we can monitor every nook and cranny in the castrum. I think it’s time we divided our forces. Pray go on and give chase. I’ll track your movements from here and guide you through the complex. We’ll stay in contact via linkpearl. Be careful, all right? Ah, there she is! I trust you recognize our old friend. “Maggie,” was it? They must have shipped her here from Centri. Considering all she’s been through, it’s a wonder she’s still operational. Tough old girl! Now that you’re suitably armed, you can blast open that bulkhead. The external walkway will take you back there. Follow it till you come upon a way down to the lower level. That bulkhead is composed of a special alloy. Extremely tough. Ordinary fire won’t leave a mark, I’m afraid. You’ll need to divert all power to the magitek cannon, as I did so memorably once before. As you may recall, the armor’s core is like to expire from the strain, but there’s no help for it if we want to press on. Now, listen well. Press...<buzzzzzz>...the control...<fizzzzzz>...engage ancillary...then fire away. Don’t mind the warning lights. You’re a natural at this! All right, the way’s clear, but it’s just you and your own two feet now, so be careful. You have been leaving a fine mess in your wake, adventurer. Is someone there!? Garlond, old friend. How it warms the heart to hear your voice again after all these years. ...Nero? Is that you!? You sound well. It would seem this savage land agrees with you. The highest ranking tribunus of the XIVth... It was you all this time? Tell me, Garlond. How long do you intend to keep all the glory for yourself? Uh...what? You’ve lost me. Don’t play the fool with me. Ever since the Academy, I have been condemned to live in your shadow. By all objective measure, I was the more talented of the two of us, yet that fate counted for naught beside your privileged birth. You were admired as the young prodigy simply because your father was the great Midas nan Garlond! When you defected, I felt sure my star would finally rise... But by disappearing, you acquired the status of a legend - your reputed genius gaining credence merely by dint of your absence! Instead of cursing you for a traitor, the people actually came to think of you more fondly! To this day, you are still the young prodigy of magitek! I, meanwhile, have ever been made to feel second-rate - I who have continued to serve our nation faithfully. Whenever I fail to excel - why, it is only to be expected! Yet when I exceed all reasonable expectations, people proclaim that I walk in the footsteps of the great Cid nan bloody Garlond! Nero, I... I don’t know what to say. It matters not a whit what I achieve. Your existence has rendered mine worthless. Even Lord van Baelsar saw fit to offer you a place at his side - and this in spite of your betrayal! Did he extend any such offer to me - the man who has remained loyal to him for all these years? Why, no. He did not. Long have I endured this injustice...but no more. Lord van Baelsar is in the midst of activating the fully powered Ultima Weapon. It is my magnum opus - the creation that will win me the recognition I am due. I will not let anyone interfere. Nero! What are you-!? Ever since I first set foot in this benighted land, I have watched you - ever move you have made, every step you have taken. You have felled eikons, a feat made possible by the Echo, a peculiar power which shields you from their corrupting influence. It is of little wonder that my lord has taken an interest in you. As have I, if truth be told. It is my desire to harness your power for use in the Ultima Weapon. Should I succeed, Lord van Baelsar will surely take notice! Beside this, Garlond’s achievements will be as child’s play! Come, adventurer, and yield to me the secrets of your power! This changes...nothing... Ahahahaha! The Ultima Weapon is activated, and it brims with the power of eikons! Nothing can withstand its might! Are you all right!? What of Nero!? ...Fled!? Damn it! In the instant prior to the blackout, the instruments detected a massive power surge from the deepest chamber. Gaius is certain to be there! We have no time to waste! Word arrived from the Alliance a short while ago. It seems the Order of the Twin Adder has completed its blockade of Castrum Centri. What hands they can spare are hastening this way even as we speak, and likewise for the Maelstrom. All that’s left is to destroy the Ultima Weapon! ...I should warn you: the chamber which houses the target appears to be saturated with aetheric energies. There’s bound to be heavy interference. But even if we lose contact, you must go on. Just don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, all right? Look for the lift’s control panel - it’ll be somewhere nearby. Take the lift down, and you should find yourself in the chamber of the Ultima Weapon. Keep your eyes peeled - Gaius could be waiting for you down there. Oh, and don’t even think about dying. You’re too bloody useful! The interference is getting worse. I don’t think the connection will last much - Tell me...for whom do you fight? Hmph! How very glib. And do you believe in Eorzea? Eorzea’s unity is forged of falsehoods. Its city-states are built on deceit. And its faith is an instrument of deception. It is naught but a cobweb of lies. To believe in Eorzea is to believe in nothing. In Eorzea, the beast tribes often summon gods to fight in their stead - though your comrades only rarely respond in kind. Which is strange, is it not? Are the “Twelve” otherwise engaged? I was given to understand they were your protectors. If you truly believe them your guardians, why do you not repeat the trick that served you so well at Carteneau, and call them down? They will answer - so long as you lavish them with crystals and gorge them on aether. Your gods are no different from those of the beasts - eikons every one. Accept but this, and you will see how Eorzea’s faith is bleeding the land dry. Nor is this unknown to your masters. Which prompts the question: why do they cling to these false deities? What drives even men of learning - even the great Louisoix - to grovel at their feet? The answer? Your masters lack the strength to do otherwise! For the world of man to mean anything, man must own the world. To this end, he hath fought ever to raise himself through conflict - to grow rich through conquest. And when the dust of battle settles, it is ever the strong who dictate the fate of the weak. Knowing this, but a single path is open to the impotent ruler - that of false worship. A path which leads to enervation and death. Only a man of power can rightly steer the course of civilization. And in this land of creeping mendacity, that one truth will prove its salvation. Come, champion of Eorzea, face me! Your defeat shall serve as proof of my readiness to rule! It is only right that I should take your realm. For none among you has the power to stop me! I had not thought to be so hard-pressed. Your strength is...most impressive. Such power befits a ruler! Yet you lack the resolve to put it to proper use. A waste. Allow me, then, hero, to do that which you will not! Bear witness to the true power of the Ultima Weapon! But the Ultima Weapon is all-powerful! Why does my enemy still stand!? Can her strength truly be so great? It is the blessing of Light that confounds you. Lahabrea. Your foe acts under the protection of the Crystal she bears. So, this is what empowers her. Beyond mortal limits. If you are to prevail, the hammer of Darkness must needs be brought to bear upon the shield of Light. And so it shall, for the Ultima Weapon is host to a power of which you are as yet ignorant. Speak plainly, Ascian. The Heart of Sabik. It is the Weapon’s core - an enigma whose surface even the vaunted scholars of ancient Allag failed to scratch. The magic within has lain dormant for eons. Of what magic do you speak? A spell without parallel. Ultima. I sought the life force of the primals for no other reason but to quicken the core. For the true power of the Ultima Weapon lies within its now-beating Heart! Lahabrea... What have you done? No more than was necessary...for my god to be reborn. Damn you, Ascian! The hour is at hand! Behold but a sliver of my god’s power! And from the deepest pit of the seven hells to the very pinnacle of the heavens, the world shall tremble! Unleash Ultima! Ahahahahahaha! Such devastation... This was not my intention... Oh, Hydaelyn...it seems the task of keeping your champion alive has exhausted what strength you had left. Van Baelsar... Your enemy’s shield is broken. The rest I leave to you. We will speak later, Ascian. But first, I must deal with you. The question of who is mightier remains! Come, adventurer! Let us find the answer together! No... No, no, NO! Uh! Heed me... The subjects of a weak ruler must needs look to a higher power for providence... and their dependence comes at a cost to the realm. The misguided elevate the frail... And the frail lead the people astray. Unless a man of power wrests control...the cycle will never be broken. You... You of all people must see the truth in this. You who have the strength to rule... Pathetic. You boasted of unrivaled power. You were entrusted with the ultimate weapon. The ultimate magic! And still you failed. So much for the glory of man. The growing imbalance afflicting the planet must be redressed. If it is permitted to worsen, the very laws of existence - both aetheric and physical - will be warped beyond all recognition. Know you the root of this corruption? Hydaelyn! Like a parasite, she must be burned out if the planet is to recover. And naught but the return of the one true god will ensure her complete excision. Yet to pave the way for the master’s return, a chaotic confluence of untold proportions must needs be brought about. And that will necessitate the presence of the primals. needless to say, both you and your Scion accomplices can not be suffered to interfere in this endeavor. You will not leave this place alive. It is past time your flame was extinguished...“Bringer of Light.” If thou wouldst pierce the shadows...make thee a blade of Light. What!? The Light...it binds them... They are too many!

Aaaaaaaaarrrgh!!!

[fireopal-tash]

First of all, an explanation about certain words that I will use: - things like 'daughters', 'mother' and 'sisters' is not in the sense of family, but of creation, superiority in a more friendly way, and closeness.

After all, gems have no family. Not until Steven. It is a simple connection that has no words, that's why I use those. If it bothers you, my apologies. You can change the words for others, if that is what you prefer.

Also, as always, sorry if there are mistakes ^w^'

Chapter 5: Era 0

It was a warm and bright morning when Steven Universe was woken up by a commotion below. Still a bit sleepy, but worried about what might have happened, Steven ran down the stairs, almost hitting the wall. He didn't notice anything out of the ordinary at first, until he saw smoke coming from the kitchen. He headed there, somewhat amused by what he saw. Amethyst, Pearl, and Spinel were covered in bread dough, flour, and... something he guessed was cream. The smoke was coming from the oven, apparently.

"What are you doing?" He asked, holding back his laughter. The gems looked at him somewhat embarrassed. Well, Amethyst seemed to be having fun more than anything, and Pearl seemed worried, trying to get rid of the smoke. Spinel, however, looked at the ground with a really red face.

"I... I just wanted to make you the brakefat" she mumbled, trying to explain.

"Don't you mean 'breakfast'?" the purple gem snickered, one hand over her mouth. She couldn't resist, really. That pink gem was very... cartoonish. And funny.

"Ha ha ha" Spinel mocked her, annoyed by the other's attitude "It was your fault it ended up like this. You told me to..." Their discussion stopped short when they heard Steven's free laugh. When was the last time he laughed like that? None of them remembered. And the heart-shaped gem was very captivated. Amethyst snickered again at the sight of Spinel's face, which brought her out of that state.

"S-shut up!" she complained, he cheeks flushed. Ame laughed again.

"Ok, ok. I'll stop now." she got off the counter, brushed off the food scraps and headed in front of Spinel "To make it up to you, how about I take you to the funniest place in all Beach City?"

That invitation was... very tempting, she had to admit. And Spinel smiled enthusiastically, forgetting the disaster that surrounded them.

"Now, Amethyst? Really?" Pearl pointed at the mess, almost hoping they would understand her. She knew better than that tho.

"I don't see what's the problem. Spinel still needs a tour of the city" the purple shrugged, completely unconcerned.

"Amethyst!" Pearl yelled annoyed.

Spinel, once clean, approached Steven, arm in arm, watching the scene in front of them. It was funnier than her misfortune on her first attempt at cooking.

"We better get going, before Pearl makes us clean everything up too" Steven whispered, walking in the direction of the door.

"Wait! Steven...!" Amethyst yelled running after them, ignoring Pearl, who kept talking about how irresponsible she was. Ah, the old days...

It didn't take long for the three of them to get to the Big Donut. After running part of the way, of course. Breathing somewhat ragged, Steven looked at Amethyst.

"Amethyst, why, ah, this sudden interest in being a guide?" He asked somewhat curious, still catching his breath.

"Eh, no reason. Someone has to do it" she replied absently.

Noticing how the smaller gem got all of Spinel's attention, Steven snorted, somewhat irritated. He could be a guide too. He had done it many other times, after all, hadn't he?

"Hey Ame-" He was interrupted again by the purple who made a loud exclamation as she pointed to another place, managing to capture Spinel's attention even more.

Steven grunted. The purple gem kept walking, showing and pointing at everything in their path, Spinel behind her as she looked at Steven with concern. It hadn't escaped her attention how very dejected the boy looked. The brunet's good humor seemed to have vanished the moment Amethyst had offered to accompany them.

"Spinel, look over there!" Amy exclaimed again, pointing to one of the buildings there. They were in Little Homeworld now "There are the gems I mentioned earlier. Come on"

Steven hadn't realized, until now, that she had been talking about other gems, or that they had arrived at Little Homeworld. They both approached the center, Amethyst calling out to said gems, while Steven lagged behind. Today nothing was going well. It was too early for this. He sighed, his hands fisted in his pockets. He did not want anyone to see him in that state. And it was ridiculous, to be honest. There was no reason to be upset. He should be happy for Spinel.

"Lapis! Peri! Bis!" she called again. The three mentioned gems appeared shortly after, Bismuth carrying a heavy weight on one of her shoulders.

"Hey Amethyst!" The smallest gem greeted, being caught by one of the arms of the purple gem "Stop it!" she complained, managing to get rid of it "You know how much I hate when you mess with my hair"

"Heh. Whatever you say dwarf" she stuck out her tongue. Peridot hid behind Bismuth, her cheeks puffed out.

"And who is this gem?" Lapis Lazuli asked, noticing the pink one.

Spinel looked away, seeming to be looking for something, or someone, before approaching Steven and wrapping her arm with his. She was feeling nervous again.

"It's okay" Steven reassured her, and turned his attention to the blue gem, at whom he smiled "Lapis, this is Spinel. She is new, and today she is here to learn a little about our planet, right?" He looked back at Spinel. Spinel nodded, implying that it was true.

"Nice to meet you, Spinel. I am Lapis, Lapis Lazuli. The dwarf gem is Peridot. And the gigantic gem over there is Bismuth.

"Diamonds are bigger" Spinel commented on impulse.

Well it was true. Bismuth was small compared to the matriarchs. Lapis snorted, especially when she saw the shocked faces of her companions.

"I like this gem~"

Spinel beamed at her accomplishment. Even if that was not her intention. She wasn't as rusted as she had originally believed. Steven was an exception.

The rest of the day they took a detour. The gems were telling stories, taking again all Spinel's attention. Amethyst was the one in front of the entire group, leading animatedly. Steven stayed behind once more, noticing how Spinel was acclimatizing. Soon she wasn't going to need him... It was Bismuth who noticed this, heading back, until she was next to Steven.

"Hey, buddy? What's wrong?"

"Bismuth?" he was surprised to see her there. He shook his head and with a forced smiled said "it's nothing"

The multicolored gem frowned, not believing him at all. It was clear that the hybrid was upset about something.

"Come on, tell Aunt Bis what's wrong?" she insisted.

The boy sighed again, knowing that the other was not going to give up. His gaze fell on Spinel, who was talking to Lapis, as she showed her one of the trees. Spinel seemed amazed.

"It's just that I thought I could help her" referring to the gem with two pigtails.

"I don't see the problem, it seems to me that you're already helping her"

"That's what it looks like, isn't it? But I didn't do anything. The others are the ones helping her. Showing her everything. Telling her everything she needs to know. And I don't know how..." he complained hands in his hair.

"Steven. You, better than anyone, know that you cannot pressure others to do what you want, even if your intentions are good" she admonished him.

The hybrid was embarrassed to notice that this was what he had been doing.

"Besides, isn't it your presence that makes her feel so relax around us? If you look closely, you will notice that you do more than you think. Give yourself more credit, Steven. You deserve it. "

She patted him on the shoulder, before returning to Lapis's side, changing the subject, noticing Peridot and Amethyst were about to start an argument.

"I guess you're right..." Steven whispered, relieved.

(In Beach City)

It didn't take Pearl long to clean up the mess in the kitchen, plus Garnet was waiting for her on top of the portal, so she didn't have time to lose.

Today they were going to visit the diamonds. Cleaning helped her with her nervousness.

"Pearl, we don't have all day," Fusion reminded her patiently. She didn't want to go either, but it was for Steven's good.

"Yes. Of course. You're right, Garnet" the pale gem sighed, before putting away her cleaning supplies. Better to get this over with as soon as possible.

They both immediately traveled to Homeworld, appearing in front of the gigantic thrones. The diamonds were nowhere to be seen.

"Well, here we are. How do we do this, Garnet?" Pearl asked, her hands entwining between them. She still didn't like the place, tho this was her first home.

"We have to find the Diamonds. Or the pearls. They will know where to find the Diamonds" replied the fusion calmly, noticing the room full of other gems.

"Right, come on then!" exclaimed the other nervously. The fusion followed her, preferring to keep quiet. Some things never really change, do they?

They had been walking from hall to hall for at least half an hour trying to find someone who could help them before finding that someone.

"Blue Pearl..." Pearl whispered. The last time they saw each other, not counting what happened two years ago, was shortly after the war began.

The blue pearl seemed to have a good hearing, because she turned in their direction, her hands clasped as they usually are. She tilted her head slightly, before speaking.

"Blue Diamond is busy with a meeting with Yellow Diamond" she said, intuiting in part the reason why two of the members of the Crystal Gems were present.

"Ah...! Yeah? T-then we'll go talk to White Diamond" replied Pearl nervously but almost challenging.

"Wait" Garnet looked closely at Blue Pearl "Maybe you can help us" she finally decided.

"Me?" she said softly.

"Garnet?" Pearl questioned her friend.

"I'm curious. I've heard of a very interesting story about the first Era" she lied easily "and I would like to know more about it"

A few seconds passed, before Blue Pearl decided to give them an answer. By way of following them, because all she did was walk in another direction. The palest gem had her doubts, but trusted her friend's judgment. They spent some time going through the corridors, before reaching their objective. Pearl gasped, immediately recognizing the place. The Great Library about Gems and their History. She believed her entry had been forbidden before she was created. She must have said that outloud, because Blue Pearl replied with a:

"It was reopened recently. It has been several millennia since I was last here..." her dreamy gaze under her bangs was positioned over the other Pearl "Something you never could" Pearl felt irritation bloom inside her. She knew she was teasing her, even if neither her tone of voice, nor her words, showed it.

"Right. That's why I'm here" she admitted with difficulty. The hand on her back made her feel better. At least she had someone's support "Come on, Garnet"

In Homeworld, things like night and day didn't exist. There was always light, albeit artificial. The library that Pearl and Garnet were in was no different from the rest of the planet. It was huge, cold, and empty, apart from the few gems, and many, many files. All in the form of a somewhat old and difficult to read writings - more by the method of recording such information than by the language itself. Time didn't seem to pass.

"We've been here for many hours, I think, Garnet. And we haven't found anything! Are you sure this is the right place? It would be quicker to ask the diamonds." Pearl kept complaining. If she was on Earth, she would have been excited about this research. But she was too uncomfortable.

"No. This is the place. Here we will find our answers. If at some point the Diamonds give us information, we can contrast it with what we find here."

"But the Diamonds were the ones who created this place. They are the ones who have lived the history of the gems since the beginning. Or at least White did." the last thing was mumbled, a little unsure.

"Mmm"

The two kept silent, still searching through the sea of information, their patience wearing thin.

"Aha! Here! I found it!" Pearl exclaimed with a shout of joy. At last! "Let me see..."

The pale gem began to read aloud:

"Entry XXXXX - 6

This writing is a testimony of the times. ERA 0.

Thousands of years ago, the Guardians were created, formed by the great authority, White Diamond. The Great Creator, that's what they called her in those days.

This was an opportunity, a new community, created from the power of The Great Creator. Our Queen, in her benevolence, gave each gem created from her light her own gems, and thus create great cities and discovered more worlds. A whole colony. The First of many others.

Tourmaline. Tanzanite. Moissanite. These were the three great Guardians. The first gems created by The Great Star. Powerful as they were, they weren't perfect. They made mistakes, being punished by The Great Creator, turned into permanent statues to maintain their eternal vigilance over the entrances of each new world. What did their 'daughters' do to receive such a destiny, you ask? Breaking the only law that existed during the Era 0: The separation of two Gem Mates.

Shortly after another law was created: Vindicta.

[ Gem Mates are gems that are made to be together forever. Made to be understood. Made to never feel alone. Their bodies of light, their music, everything in them is in sync. Much more than a fusion could ever be. They call it: The Final Union. If for some reason a GemMate is destroyed or is too far from its half, its lights will fade, agonisingly slowly. Some take longer, others turn off suddenly. There are records of these events in entry XXXXVI - 19 ]

Tourmaline was jealous of the closeness between Tanzanite and Moissanite, her sisters. They were both Gemmates, so it wasn't a surprise. But, as the story goes, Tourmaline was madly 'in love' - that's what she called it, that feeling - Painful but the most wonderful thing she had ever felt.

One day, she saw them together sharing their light. Fusion. That moment of intimacy was what made her act impulsively, pulling out her sledgehammer - a weapon that was created to protect, not to destroy - and take down one of her sisters. Tanzanite. When the Guardian came back to herself, The Great Creator was present. Moissanite, hurt by the loss, asked for one last wish to her Queen, before she herself ceased to exist. Their wish was granted with the idea that they would give up, or lose the will to commit such a crime. Such was her mistake...

The fighting was fierce and devastating. All the gems present were watching from a distance, shouting, asking for the tragedy to stop. They had never seen anything so devastating as the fight and separation of their Guardians. They asked for mercy. White Diamond granted their wish. She had had enough.

"For having broken the universal law, for separating what should never have been separated, and for the use of the Vindicta, I condemn you to an eternity as statues" said this, the Great Authority threw a powerful light, turning their companions in what today are known as statues, objects of admiration; and soon after, historic art walls were created to never forget what happened.

Some time later, perhaps due to the loss of her daughters, The Queen created two more gems. Blue and Yellow Diamond. The New Authority. Welcome to Era 1.

End of Entry

White Sapphire, the Queen's Clairvoyant "

That was all. It was not the only entry on this same topic, but the first of many others. Apparently they were going to spend a lot more time in the Great Library about Gems and their History than they thought.

They both looked at each other with a triumphant smile. At least now they had knew where to start.

What did you think of my entry? I have my own version of the Gems history, something that will be part of my Fic.

It will not be 100% well done, sure, but I hope you find it interesting, and you like it~ xP

[mememanufactorum]

Ace Combat Zero quotes

* Feel free to share as you please, no credit needed. Change pronouns or anything else as desired.

“Oh, him? Yeah, I know him.”

“Did you know there are three kinds of aces? Those who seek strength, those who live for pride, and those who can read the tide of battle.”

“It was a cold and snowy day…”

“It’s starting to come down.”

“You’d better have our pay ready and waiting.”

“Be ready to pay up. We’ll be back before you know it.”

“[name], I got a feeling you and I are gonna get along just fine. Buddy.”

“It all started on that snowy day.”

“My first impression was… He had potential.”

“I forgot about my job and read everything I had on hand.”

“We were all on an equal footing, fighting under the same conditions. No affiliations or ranks to hinder us.”

“The only rule of engagement was to survive.”

“We WILL survive, [name].”

“I figured you’d say that. This is gonna cost you extra.”

“Unlike you mercenaries, I fight for a real cause.”

“The ones who survive are those who fight for their convictions.”

“Dead men’s words hold no meaning.”

“Those mercenaries are crazy!”

“He hesitated. A vulnerability that can be exploited.”

“I was certain I would win.”

“We protect the meek and give our lives for honor. But that does not mean that we are generous… Since generosity will cost us our lives.”

“Well, then, let’s have some fun.”

“I figured it was just temporary chaos and it’d be over by the time I got there.”

“Every now and then, guys like that appear on a battlefield. Someone special, y’know?”

“War is something fought on the desk of politicians. As long as they win in the end, that’s all that matters.”

“But for us, it’s a matter of survival. In order to survive, you need to be able to analyze the situation in an instant.”

“Time to hunt some wild dogs.”

“Looks like we were just a couple of decoys.”

“Yo, Buddy, you still alive?”

“Back then, I was bursting with pride.”

“Staying where it was nice and warm wouldn’t accomplish anything.”

“Whatever it may be, the fact remains I was forced to walk a different path in life than the one I had envisioned.”

“They only fight for their own power and fame.”

“[name], let’s do this right. We got the pride it takes to win!”

“They’ve got a reason to fight. This battle’s over.”

“Let’s take care of them.”

“It takes time to admit you lost.”

“[name], you hear those people screaming for freedom? That’s where we come in!”

“It felt like he could see right through me. He was always one step ahead of me.”

“I didn’t feel like I was fighting with a human being.”

“I wanted to end that battle as quickly as possible.”

“It signals peace, but to me, they are the sounds of death.”

“Everyone is a hero and a villain. And no one knows who is the victim and who is the aggressor.”

“And what is ‘peace’?”

“Looks like we live to see another day, [name].”

“Mercenaries like us are disposable to the guys in charge.”

“But in the end, we survived.”

“When are you planning to buy those flowers?”

“Wait around too long and another guy’s gonna steal her away from you, you know.”

“This is no time to talk about my personal life!”

“Yo Buddy, you’ve got everyone fired up and believing in miracles.”

“Right on! Now that’s what I call teamwork!”

“[name], you hear that warm welcome? It’s the sweet sound of victory.”

“Not bad for a group of misfits, huh?”

“Dammit, there’s too many of them! We can’t handle them all!”

“Time to dive into the fireworks!”

“Looks like you’ve still got the touch.”

“It’s happening just as you thought.”

“It’s about time we got out of this dead-end job.”

“Not just yet.”

“They’re attacking without mercy. Do they plan on burning everything?”

“He can’t be human!”

“He’s like a demon…”

“I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“I fight for peace. That’s what I’m up here for.”

“While you’re up here ‘fighting for peace,’ tons of blood is being shed on the ground. Some ‘peace,’ kid.”

“And I’m here to put an end to that.”

“You think you can stop the bloodshed by shedding more blood?”

“Flying with all those ideas floating around in your head is gonna get you killed.”

“Anyway, I’d really gone out with a bang this time.”

“It’s a scary thought, but it also makes you feel alive.”

“But it gets pretty lonely up there all by myself.”

“Guess they’ve come to pick on the dead again.”

“This is the worst kind of support we could hope for.”

“Those mercenaries smell of money and death. They’re nothing but vultures… Scavenging for profit through the blood of others.”

“Sorry about the accommodations. It goes with the business. I’m not active during the day.”

“Something unexpected happened.”

“I figured the least I could do was take them down in return.”

“Of course, that was where my luck ran out.”

“Though I guess it’s hard for bad guys like us to die.”

“The real heroes always manage to die first.”

“We live the rest of our lives in hell.”

“But, then again, being alive is proof that we were good.”

“This will be your final lesson.”

“I’ll show him he’s only digging his own grave.”

“What’s important on the battlefield is to let go of hate, to survive, and to adhere to the rules you’ve set for yourself.”

“There was no more need for an old soldier like me.”

“Hatred cannot be the only motivation for war. It only brings about more pointless deaths.”

“I will never overcome that grief.”

“I’ll just look on from here.”

“He was unstoppable.”

“It didn’t matter where the battlefield was, the man had complete trust in his own powers.”

“He was born for battle, a Demon Lord who struck down all opposition.”

“He was born for combat. It was no wonder they called him a Demon Lord.”

“That said, it was hell trying to keep up with him.”

“He was cool-headed and proud. A combat professional.”

“Maybe the man was blessed by the goddess of war.”

“Before long, everyone had taken notice of him.”

“People wanted to burn his image in their memories.”

“Hell, they weren’t the only ones.”

“Learn to accept it, kid. This is war.”

“There’s no mercy in war. It’s a collision of powers.”

“Even war has a set of rules to follow!”

“Damn them all…”

“Nobody knew why they were fighting anymore.”

“All I felt at that point was sadness for the world.”

“You gonna get remarried to your girl?”

“We’re both getting married for the first time!”

“Don’t worry, I’ll catch up.”

“Nah… I’m just sad.”

“There’s no impossible jobs for us mercenaries!”

“Your fairy godmother’s here, Cinderella.”

“How can you say that after what just happened?”

“Today is your lucky day, [name]. Like your birthday.”

“And you’re here to pull me off in a magical carriage, huh? To hell I suppose…”

“Buddy… I’ve found a reason to fight.”

“This is where we go our separate ways.”

“And I like to play polo. You know, the game with the horses?”

“…Maybe we should get going now.”

“I should be able to do that too.”

“This war should be over already.”

“Why would they do this after all that’s happened?”

“I’m going to put an end to this war.”

“We’ll decide when this war ends… And now is not the time.”

“Today is a day of hope.”

“We have to go into battle.”

“Are they being stupid or is it just part of a plan?”

“The rest is up to you.”

“Our lives might’ve been different.”

“I will never forget his overwhelming power.”

“I returned alive from that battlefield.”

“There’s no meaning there now that he’s gone.”

“He soon passed away, leaving me behind.”

“We were only able to spend a short time together in peace and quiet.”

“But those who hearts are in the sky will always return to the sky.”

“And he died there, never to return to me.”

“It’s an awful place, but the fastest shortcut.”

“Don’t even think about heading back.”

“What are you fighting for?”

“I will eliminate the false hero.”

“You will make a worthy opponent.”

“What are you doing?! The war’s ended long ago!”

“It’s time for a perfect world without restrictions or wars.”

“He’s going to destroy everything!”

“I’ll follow [name] to the end!”

“I thought I was watching magic.”

“I’d never felt fear toward an opponent.”

“The same went for my ideals. I wasn’t afraid to take on even an entire country.”

“But when I was fighting him, something felt different.”

“There’s always a war somewhere and I’m sure he’s on some battlefield somewhere fighting even now.”

“He’ll always have a place to live.”

“Let the victor be justice.”

“I was hoping to meet you under different circumstances.”

“The table is surrounded by politicians who have never placed a foot on the battlefield.”

“It’s a necessary discussion to build a peaceful world.”

“It’s a disgusting squabble on who gets the largest share of the pie and that’s why it needs to end.”

“It is for that duty that we raised the King.”

“Let’s begin.”

“This place is no longer a battlefield.”

“Clashing greed is the cause of all conflict.”

“Style and skill does not matter in battle.”

“We will carry out the new creation of destruction through the power of righteousness.”

“Territories, peoples, authorities… All will be liberated.”

“Neither nations nor nationalities have meaning.”

“We will erase these unnecessary borders.”

“The world will change.”

“He’s not destroying anything unnecessarily.”

“This darkness and that little window are my entire world now.”

“I’m actually rather fond of it.”

“The darkness envelops me in a borderless world, a world with no boundaries.”

“No matter what the desired outcome is, the world can still change as long as people expand their knowledge and desire change.”

“If I’m with you, I know I can do it.”

“I’ll follow your lead.”

“We’re gonna stop it, no matter what.”

“I never want to see that barren land again.”

“We’re gonna be rich!”

“We’re gonna be heroes!”

“I’m gonna propose to her when I get back. I even bought flowers!”

“So, have you found a reason to fight yet?”

“Here comes the snow…”

“Those who survive a long time on the battlefield start to think they’re invincible.”

“I bet you do too, Buddy.”

“Can you see any borders from here? What has borders given us?”

“We’re going to start over from scratch.”

“It’s pretty ironic, Buddy. A couple of dogs like us fighting the last battle.”

“There’s no mercy in war. People live and people die. That’s all there is to it.”

“You fired up? Come shoot me down.”

“It’s time.”

“Too bad, Buddy.”

“This twisted game needs to be reset.”

“You’re the only one who can stop him.”

“I pray for your success.”

“You and I are opposite sides of the same coin.”

“When we face each other, we can finally see our true selves.”

“There may be a resemblance, but we never face the same direction.”

“Fire away, coward!”

“Come on!”

“Come on, let’s go back home.”

“We wouldn’t want to keep anyone waiting for you.”

“Maybe this was one path to achieve peace.”

“I should have died that day. But I didn’t.”

“I felt an unbearable sadness when I witnessed that landscape.”

“It may be true that the world has no need of borders. But would getting rid of them really change anything?”

“The world won’t change for the better unless we trust people.”

“Trust is vital in a peaceful world.”

“But that’ll never happen.”

“I want to see for myself what borders really mean and what their volition really is…”

“I may not find what I’m looking for but I still wanna try.”

“Anyway, that’s what I’ve come to believe and I think that’s enough.”

“Yo Buddy. Still alive?”

“And thanks friend. See you again.”

“I was never able to find out what kind of a person he really was.”

“But whenever they talked about him, they always had a slight smile on their faces.”

“That, perhaps, might be my answer.”

[bogariel-frogariel]

A Wish for a Better World Part 4: On the High Seas

We are now almost at 15,000 words and still going strong.

Here is the ao3 link https://archiveofourown.org/works/25747657/chapters/62735095

I appreciate all the comments

------

One and a half weeks after that night, Ruby and Jet stood side by side at the stern of the ship as they watched Castle Candy disappear down the river. They're pinkies were linked and Ruby could feel the contented hum of the locked on her chest.

 They only stepped back when the tallest tip of Castle had faded into the background.

 Theo and Lapin were both waiting for them on the deck, though they were both eyeing each other with barely concealed glares. They were so distracted that Ruby and Jet could have slipped away if they were so inclined. But, they stood there in front of them, waiting to be noticed.

Theo straightened when he saw them, his head whipping around to stare at them.

 "Oh, princesses, good."

 He cleared his throat before he launched into his lecture, "Now your mother has given firm instructions about your education. She has created a strict timetable for you both to follow on your journey."

 Both Jet and Ruby nodded at this.

 "Sure Theo."

 "Yes, Sir Theo."

 Theo immediately frowned at them. "Truly? You're not missing with me?"

 Ruby and Jet glanced at each other before they looked forward.

 "Well, you and Mum are always talking about responsibility and how we need to take our lessons more seriously, especially since we're almost adults now," Jet explained. "We want to be able to help our sister when she takes the throne."

 "Besides, there's not really anywhere for us to escape to on this ship," Ruby cut in. "Not many places for us to hide."

 "Not that we would dare," Jet interjected. "I know I need to take lessons if I'm going to be the best general in Calorum. And Ruby needs to learn to be the… uh…"

 "A good advisor," Ruby finished. "And a faithful Bublian."

  Lapin nodded. "Of course, Princess, and I will guide you through your spiritual journey."

 Ruby inclined her head at him respectfully.

 Theo cleared his throat again. "Yes, well, whilst your mother has mandated eight hours of lessons for each of you, she has also given her permission for an additional two hour lesson in combat before dinner should you choose to accept it."

 Jet perked up and Ruby couldn't stop the giddy grin from splitting across her face as her sister's hand found hers and they locked pinkies.

 "Yes!" Jet burst out before she cleared her throat. "We will accept, Theo."

 Theo smiled at them as he gave a nod. "Good. Why don't you both settle into your room? You will be having a busy journey."

 Jet and Ruby gave a synchronised nod and walked off to unpack their things.

 ----

 Later that night, Ruby found herself leaning against the railing of the Starboard side of the deck.

 Jet had managed to wheedle Theo into showing her the weapons he had brought for them to use

 Ruby took one of the small knives from Sapphria's set of daggers and fiddled with it, not scared of dropping over board, as she had discovered that it would just be summoned back to her hand if she wanted it to be.

 Her father glanced down and froze at the sight of the black sugarsteel. The larger had a light blue blade but the same ornate black hilt forged in the shape of a dragon with glittering multicoloured candy stones peppered across its back, shining blue and purple and silver and gold when the light hit them.

 "Is that what I think it is."

 Ruby nodded, still twirling the dagger through her fingers.

 "Where did you get it?"

 "I found the set hidden in the Castle."

 Her dad nodded. "Another vision?"

 Ruby grimaced. "Not exactly."

 She hadn't fully explained her shadows to anyone but Lapin. Her father didn't understand the technicalities and philosophies of magic anyway and Ruby didn't want to force her mother to speak of a secret that she carefully guarded, she'd manipulated her mother enough just to get her to organise this trip.

 "You could be a great ruler," Ruby murmured, looking out at the sea. "I have seen it."

 She had. Her father had been a great Emperor, when he had finally started working with his wife, they had presented a formidable and terrifyingly efficient unit.

 Her father looked down, his shoulders slumping. "I was never meant to rule."

 "You may not have ever expected it," Ruby conceded. "But you… Candia cannot live in the shadows of our aunts forever."

 King Amethar bowed his head, sighing deeply. "I never asked for this responsibility."

 "It’s not fair," Ruby whispered and her father went rigid, obviously remembering the exchange he had had with his father long ago, where Kind Jedain had said similar things. Her father had told her of the interaction, and the night before, she had seen it in her dreams, right before she saw a vision of her father standing at the throne, her mother and sisters standing at his side, strong and proud and good.

 Ruby slipped the dagger back beneath her sleeve, putting one of her hands on his arm. Her father turned to look at her.  

"You're the king, Pops," Ruby murmured. "So you gotta be the king."

 Her father closed his eyes. "I was always more of a war guy."

 Ruby gave a small smile. "You can be more than one thing, Dad."

 Her father reached out and grasped Ruby's shoulder. "I think you might be right… Those visions have changed haven't they."

 Ruby shrugged, and whispered, "It's better this way."

 Her dad's hand tightened. "Just… don't get lost in them, okay? In those last days, Laz could barely recognise us. She couldn't keep track of what was real. Don't forget to live in the present."

 Ruby swallowed and nodded. "But I… we cannot forget what we must do."

 "We must not trust Cruller," she said into his head.

 Her father nodded. After much discussing, Ruby, Jet and her parents had decided to take the cake with them. It would be best if they could keep an eye on him, and he could be cut off from all but the two men he had taken with him. Back at Castle Candy, Ruby's mother could quietly spread the Muffinfield soldiers throughout the realm, and Ruby's small network of spies, which she'd quickly built in both Dulcington and the castle, about half of them sleeper agents that Sapphria had left, though the other half were those she had recruited through her own skills and persuasion.

 She had spent the most experienced them off the Muffinfield to try and find any evidence they could against the Marquiesse.

 "I will keep an eye on him," her father sent back.

 "We can trust Theo. All the knights are loyal to Candia above all else."

 "What of Lapin?" her father asked out loud.

 Ruby frowned, thinking for a few seconds before she answered, "He is a good man."

 Her father looked at her for a few seconds, and then nodded. He leant forward and enveloped her in a hug. "We won't… I won't forget my purpose, Ruby."

 He pulled away and took a step back towards the cabins. "You have given me a lot to think of… about my place and my actions."

 Ruby nodded. "Right, good. I'm glad."

 Her father smiled sweetly at her. "I love you, Ruby. Don't go to bed too late."

 "Night, Pops."

 As the ship changed to the night shift, Ruby settled onto one of the steps between the stern and the main deck, her personal copy of the Book of Leaves resting on her lap, and a small notepad in her palm as she skimmed through the religious tome. She had started rereading it, noting passages for her to memorise. It was interesting that nothing in the Book was actually really incorrect. It never personified the Bulb, and it never stated that the Bulb wanted its followers to act a certain way, only that it was a power of creation. Whatever group had written it had included the tenets, against murder, against ceaseless violence and destruction, as suggestions on how to stay faithful to its nature.

 Everything else that was accepted and 'known' about the Bulb was just bureaucracy and invention.

 Her mind wandered to the conversation she had had with Citrina a few nights ago.

 "My faith was never strained by the presence of my sisters," the yellow woman had proclaimed. "Despite the Church's rulings, nothing in the Book says that the Bulb is the only thing one can worship. In fact, the Book of Leaves preaches acceptance in all aspects of life."

 The woman had sighed.

 "The Church has strayed from its roots, from the faith. It has been tainted by betrayal and politics and greed," she spat the last word.

 Citrina broke off, taking a breath before she continued, "I thought I could fix the Church from the inside. I truly believed I could…"

 Ruby had waited for a few moments before she murmured, "For the record, I agree. The faith, at its core, is largely good. Like the Sweetening Path and the Great Beasts, but I do not see a way to fix it peacefully. The corruption is too deep."

 Citrina smiled sadly. "Very insightful, my child. I regret the pain you had to go through to learn those lessons, and I regret that I did not learn that lesson when I was alive."

 Cruller broke Ruby from her thoughts when he sat beside her. It took all of Ruby's skills in acting to not tense.

 "Princess," the man greeted.

 "Calroy," Ruby said, carving a smile onto her face.

 "What? No Lord Cruller from the next saint."

 Ruby barked a laugh. "I think we're past formalities, Calroy. And I don't intend to be as devoted as my aunt. The Bulbb has willed me to watch over Candia and guard its purity. The Church has enough Primogens."

 Cruller grinned. "That is a relief to here, Ruby. I would sorely miss you if you whisked away to Comida and Brightgarden."

 "You won't have to worry about that, Calroy," Ruby replied, feeling her skin crawl. "I intend to keep an eye on Candia for a long while."

 Calroy nodded. "And Candia will be all the better for it."

 He opened his mouth to ask a question, and Ruby knew he would begin interrogating her about her father. Jet and her dad had done admirable jobs but hadn't quite hidden their changed attitudes well enough to fool Cruller. Ruby would need to move quickly.

 However, before he could speak, the door that lead to the cabins banged open and Jet's voice floated over the side of the staircase.

 "Ruby! Theo wants us to go to bed. Come on, I don't want to annoy him. I really want him to teach us combat tomorrow."

 Ruby stood, smiling apologetically at Calroy. "I should get going. Dad and Jet have been super on edge lately about me. I think they're worried cause Aunt Citrina died so mysteriously. They don't want anything to happen to me."

 When the door to the cabins closed, Ruby slipped one of the two hand mirrors she carried on her at all times to one of her shadows.

 ----

 Theo looked around for Ruby. With ten minutes until the start of their first combat lesson, Jet was already hovering around the rack of weapons that Theo had dragged onto the deck, but the younger one was nowhere to be seen.

 Theo had seen Ruby stride out of the cabins half an hour ago and toss Lapin a book, telling him something in Bulbosi that Theo hadn’t understood before she had disappeared.

 Theo couldn't say what had possessed him to look up, but when he did, what he saw had his heart skipping a beat.

 "Princess Ruby get down from there!" he yelled at the girl who was doing cartwheels along the top of one of the sails.

 The girl paused and looked down at him, smiling brightly. For a few seconds, she looked like the girl that Theo had known a week ago, not the stranger that had replaced her.

 "Why, of course, Sir Theo," she proclaimed, and then jumped off the sail.

 Theo's stomach dropped as the girl fell before she caught a rope, swinging down in a graceful ark before she landed gently next to Theo, only stumbling slightly.

 Theo clutched at his heart. "Princess, never do that again! You could get hurt!"

 Ruby straightened her closed and raised her chin imperiously, even as she failed to smooth the giddy smile from her face.

 "The Bulb has blessed me with miracles that will help me if I slip, but I won't."

 Theo's eyes widened and he glanced at the Chancellor, who had taken over the Princess's private lessons whilst Theo gave Jet extra lessons in courtly manners and politics for two hours on top of the one and a half hours that Queen Caramelinda had allotted to both the girls every day, classes that were also overseen by Theo.

 The fucking chocolate bunny didn't do anything but shrug.

 "I'm sure that would be a grievous misuse of your blessings," Theo lectured.

 Ruby glanced to the bunny. "Chancellor, what do you think as a fellow miracle worker?"

 The bunny inclined his head. "I would advise humility with your miracles, Princess. However, the Bulb has blessed you and thus I trust that you know when it is appropriate to make use of those gifts."

 Ruby's smile was more restrained and respectful as she nodded. "Of course, Chancellor Lapin."

 Theo shot a glare at the bunny before he turned to both girls, clapping his hands together.

 "Okay, why don't we get going with this lesson."

 To be honest, Theo had thought that the King would be leading this class. However, he had allowed Theo to carry out this duty, wearing glasses of all things as he hunched over a book, some documents beside him. Theo had always thought that the King was illiterate.

 Teaching the princesses combat was honestly a pleasure. They were both naturals and applied themselves more stringently to these lessons than any other.

 As Theo had suspected, Jet was razor fast and brutally strong, the magic of Candia manifesting within her as unnatural reflexes similar to those of the eldest Rocks sister and Jet's own father. Ruby, however, surprised Theo. She had always been the more gentle of the two. Where Jet was loud and scrappy, Ruby was quick and light-footed. Those differences were still reflected in their fighting styles but there was a deadly edge to Ruby's movements, an efficiency and accuracy to her attacks that one so young should not have.

 It was perplexing to say the least, and Theo got his chance to address it later that very day, when he saw Ruby sitting on the deck, reading under torchlight as the day crew got ready for bed and the night crew began to work.

 Her head jerked up as he approached, snapping the book shit and tucking it into her chest, underneath the thick cloak she wore to take the bite off the cool sea breeze.

 "Sir Theo," she greeted and something inside Theo, that had been straining for the last few weeks, snapped.

 "What did I do to earn that title?"

 Ruby frowned. "Excuse me?"

 "Since when do you call me Sir Theo? You have not used my title since you were six years old, Princess."

 Ruby's eyes widened. "I thought that you would appreciate the respect. You deserve it."

 Theo stared down at the little girl that he had known all her life. He could no longer read her.

 "We both know you are lying to me, Princess," Theo said. "Please tell me what crime I have committed against you and I will do my best to make amends."

 Ruby shook her head, blinking rapidly. "No, The-Sir Theo. You've been great."

 "Then what is it?"

 Ruby dropped her eyes, her lips twitching downwards.

 "You will love Saccharina," she whispered.

 Theo furrowed his eyebrows. "Pardon?"

 "Saccharina," Ruby clarified, her voice a little stronger. "She will be everything you dreamed of serving. You will love her more than you could my father. You will be happy serving her."

 Theo jerked his head back. "Princess, I have devoted my life to your family. I serve your family."

 "But you wanted to serve Lazuli," Ruby countered. "Saccharina will be the one to bring about my aunt's vision and so much more. You won't need to resent us any longer."

 Theo gaped. "I don't-"

 "I know you love Jet. She's the bravest warrior and the most noble fighter you will ever find. But how can you not look at the rest of us and feel all you have lost every time? I do not blame you. I know that the Rocks family can trust you."

 Theo stammered for a few seconds, his mind not quite able to fathom everything that Ruby had just said. "I love you as well, princess."

 Ruby quirked her lips up and gave a nod. "Of course you do, Theo. I don't doubt that."

 "With respect, it sounds like you do, Princess."

 Ruby smiled that winning, perfect smile she had started wearing like armour and stood up. "Whatever hope for Candia's future you think you see in me, Saccharina will surpass it tenfold. She is truly someone worthy of being loyal to."

 She dropped her hands, causing the book to fall into the light, and Theo instantly recognised it as one of Lazuli's. He was very familiar with that particular lavender cover. A few dozen things clicked into place in that second and he banished the hurt at Ruby not telling him of the truth of her gifts. He had never shown her that it would be safe to tell him of her magic.

 Theo called for his familiar to jump into his hand through the bond.

 "I summoned Sprinkle to me with a spell. I could teach it to you, if you want?"

 Ruby hesitated, blinking rapidly as she quickly tucked the book back beneath her cloak.

 Finally, she whispered, "Yes."

 -----

 Ruby swallowed nervously as she stood on the prow of the ship, Theo beside her. He had pointed out the techniques and words she would need to use to her the night before, and then had woken her just before dawn so that he could help her cast the spell. Ruby had liked pretending to learn it from him.

 She had delayed recasting the spell until now, afraid what it would do to her when Yak didn't come back to her. For she knew she was too changed now to summon her beloved butterscotch falcon.

 However, with Theo's warm urging from beside her, and Jet's quiet cheering from a few paces behind them, she reached inside her drawing a strand of her won magic and throwing it out into the universe as she cast the spell. She waited as she felt the magic shift around her, roiling in a storm before it split into three distinct parts. She felt them solidify rapidly and stepped back in shock at the sight that materialised before her.

 Flying out of the distance, the rising sun at his back, was Yak, his feathers a more rich gold than they had had been in the future, but his presence still undeniable. However, at the same time, a black snake slithered out of the shadows behind her and a sleek violet cat materialised right beside her, slinking around her in a sort of dance.

 As the three approached her, they all melded, Yak swooping low as the snake and the cat jumped at him, all of them mixing, the image before her shifting between all three bodies before the cat leapt into her arms, quickly shifting to Yak a moment later as he jumped up to her shoulders before Ruby felt it change again and slither down her arms.

 Ruby blinked, lost for words.

 "What that supposed to happen?" Jet asked.

 Theo stared at the familiar as it shifted back to a cat, snuggling itself into Ruby's chest as she hugged it - no her, this form was a girl - closer.

 "I do not know," Theo murmured. "But it seems to have been successful."

 Ruby grinned, feeling something fill a hole in her chest that she hadn't even known was there.

 "I love them."

 She turned around and hugged Theo, the knight going stiff under her arms.

 "Thank you, Theo."

 Slowly, the gummy bear reached up to return the embrace. "You're welcome, Ruby."

----

How did you guys like it? Feel free to send me questions if you want. Also, yay! We’ll be seeing Saccharina next chapter.

[thisismeelephanttrying]

After reading the book, I feel fortunate enough to across his heritage of that lifetime. He must have a beautiful heart in conclusion of a floating soul in a heavy world.

"In all his writing, the world of concrete objects carries its full common sense of pleasure and hardship, of beauty and blight. At the same time, his philosophical turn of mind involves him in a real struggle of ideas, one usually carried on by closed mings and obscured by fuzzy words. This struggle pits the "materialists" with their rational methods against the "idealists" with their intuitive or spiritual insights."

"Or rather he tells us all over again that the true battle lies within us and calmly transfers the struggle to the slopes of an interior mountain which we must climb. Most of us find that a harder task than carrying on a rousing battle with an ideological enemy."

"And neither of them took cover behind the convenient shrubbery of the "ineffable"; words brought their trials and their triumphs. Daumal's work follows Nerval's in its resolve to fuse body and spirit, speech and sleep, logic and intuition, in order to enter a "second life".

'"Nerval, however, prepared himself increasingly to disappear for good into that other world, and finally hung himself in a Paris alley. Daumal, somewhat less afflicted, or blessed, with night vision, resolutely returned to this world, his eyes seeking light again, his mind struggling to tell what he had seen."

"We must first become human before seeking anything superior."

"The Westerner tends by tradition to think of grasping the meaning of life through certain crucial experiences - death, grief, danger, passionate love, sudden success, catastrophe. Existentialism has aptly termed them "extreme situations", in reference to which we discover ourselves - whence our attraction to the adventurous life, war, scientific progress, romantic love. Having cast his mind deep into Indian philosophy, Daumal senses that the reality and meaning of the world can come to us at every moment without having to rely wholly on extreme situations to wrench us into awareness. Action, as has been pointed out many times, is for Westerners both stimulant and drug. The four stages of Hindi initiation, from the Vedas to the Upinshads, and the complementary disciplines of Yoga and Zen, prepare us not for a career of great exploits to be recalled in old age, but for a life increasingly dedicated to "the teaching which cuts through illusion."

"He understood very early that the basic act of consciousness is a negation, a dissociation of the I from the exterior world of not -I. Meaningful perception reduces and refines the I, withdraws it from the world into an increasingly strict identity or subjectivity. Then, however, beginning a vibratory rhythm which must follow if self-annihilation is not to result, the pure consciousness expands again into all things, experiences the world subjectively once more, loses itself in the mystery of creation."

Asceticism

"Man achieves inner spiritual progress by his own efforts, by a human discipline that is not a gift of god and can be learned from other men further advanced on the path of knowledge. Teaching and initiation are central to all religions and cultures. Within a system where no truth comes by divine revelation but only by human attainment, the sense of a tradition of knowledge comes to support the entire structure of life.... And thus Daumal spoke un-flinchingly of a Doctrine, meaning not a narrow set of rituals or dogmas, not art for art's sake in aesthetics, not a fixed philosophical position, but a number of paths leading to the same goal: a higher form of life."

Peradam

"Mount Analogue, the novel, has the force of a curving and uncurving lens for our minds. Through it, we can glimpse that "other world" of which Nerval spoke, and Spinoza and Socrates. And yet it is hard to look through it, for so limpid a substance almost escapes one's attention even when it is right under one's eyes. One could conceivably read ever word of the book without seeing a thing."

"And from deep within me, like a bubble, rose the admission that my life had become all too stagnant lately. Thus, when I opened the letter, I could not be sure whether it affected me like a breath of fresh air or like a disagreeable draught."

"I had written in substance that in the mythic tradition the Mountain is the bond between Earth and Sky. Its solitary summit reaches the sphere of eternity, and its base spreads out in manifold foothills into the world of mortals. It is the way by which man can raise himself to the divine, and by which the divine reveals itself to man."

" ... a general discussion of symbols, which I divided into two classes: those subject to law of proportion, and those subject only to the law of scale as well.... "Proportion" concerns the relations between dimensions of a structure, "scale" the relations between these dimensions and those of the human body. An equilateral triangle, symbol of the Trinity, has exactly the same value no matter what its dimensions; it has no "scale". On the other hand consider an exact model of a cathedral a few inches in height. This object will always convey, through its shape and proportions, the intellectual meaning of the original structure, even if some details have to be examined under a magnifying glass. But it will no longer produce anything like the same emotion or the same response: it is no longer "to scale". And what defines the scale of the ultimate symbolic mountain - The one I propose to call Mount Analogue- is its inaccessibility to ordinary human approaches. .......

For a mountain to play the role of Mount Analogue, I concluded, its summit must be inaccessible but its base accessible to human beings as nature has made them. It must be unique and it must exist geographically. The door to the invisible must be visible."

" You understand that you and I have such grave decisions to make, with such a far-reaching consequences for our lives, that we can't start by taking shots in the dark. We'll have to get to know each other. Today we can walk around together, talk, eat, and be silent together. Later I believe we'll have the opportunity to act and suffer together. All is that necessary to "make someone's acquaintance" as they say."

"Up to that point I had always spotted those second-hand Satans. They were so naive and always tried the same tricks, poor devils. Their entire approach consisted of variations on a few fundamental falsehoods every one knew, such as:"To obey the letter of the rules in only for imbeciles who cannot understand their spirit". Or :"With my health, alas, I cannot attempt such hardships."

" Life dealt with me a little the way an organism treats a foreign body: it was obviously trying either to encyst me or to expel me, and for my own part I yearned for "something else" .... I readjusted little by little to contemporary life, but only externally, it's true. For, when you come down to it, I can't bring myself to fall in with this monkey-cage agitation which people so dramatically call life. ..... Fake, all fake. I can't say one of those cards: here's a truth, one small but certain truth. In the whole show there's nothing but mystery and error. Where one ends, the other begins."

Since Logos is quite crazy in his assumption because everything was merely made in his mind. He is as if a scientist making a hypothesis totally out of intuition and initiated a whole journey to test it; that is the reason why I found this description pretty cool "We all sat stunned by the audacity and logical power of this deduction. Everyone kept silent and everyone was convinced."

"The path to our highest desires often lies through the undesirable."

" If I were to tell this story the way history is usually written or the way each of us recalls his own past, which means recording only the most glorious moments and inventing a new continuity for them, I should omit these little details and say that our eight stout hearts drummed from morning to night in time with a single all-encompassing desire - or some such lie. But the flame which kindles desire and illuminates thought never burned for more than a few seconds at a stretch. The rest of the time we tried to remember it."

I do not know why but this author did have a sense of humor with all of his mockery and ironicness.

"Some people say they have always existed and will exist forever. Others say they are the dead. And others say that, as a sword has its scabbard or a foot its imprint, every living man has in the mountain his Hollow-Man, which he will seek out in death."

"No one has ever been able to catch it, for the tiniest tremor of fear anywhere close by alerts it, and it disappears into the rock. Even if one desires it, one is a little afraid of possessing it, and it vanishes. .... It's like looking for night in broad daylight."

"But in our relations with the superior beings of Mount Analogue, what would be suitable for barter? What did we possess of real value? With what could we pay for the new knowledge we were seeking? Would we have to accept it as charity? or on credit?"

"At the same time as we decided to leave our heavy equipment on the coast, we were also preparing to leave behind the artist, the inventor, the doctor, the scholar, the writer. Beneath the old disguises new men and new women began to show the tips of their ears. Men and women, and all kinds of other creatures as well."

"In the mountains a man becomes very attentive to any sign indicating the presence of one of his fellow men. That distant smoke was particularly moving for us, a greeting sent us by strangers climbing ahead of us on the same trail. For from now on the trail linked our fate to theirs, even if we were never to meet. Bernard knew nothing about them."

Rhododendron

"At the end I want to speak at length of one of the basic laws of Mount Analogue. To reach the summit, one must proceed from encampment to encampment. But before setting out for the next refuge, one must prepare those coming after to occupy the place one is leaving. Only after having prepared them can one go on up. That is why, before setting out for a new refuge, we had to go back down in order to pass on our knowledge to other seekers..."

"Probably Rene Daumal would have made clear what he meant by this work of preparation. For in his daily life he devoted himself to preparing many minds for the difficult voyage toward Mount Analogue. The title of his last chapter was to be: "And you, what do you seek?.... To face it directly is to strike against the deepest layer of being which sleeps within us, and then one must listen painfully and lucidly to the sound it sends back."

"By our calculations - thinking of nothing else - by our desires - abandoning every other hope - by our efforts - renouncing all bodily comfort - we gained entry into this new world. So it seemed to us. But we learned later that if we were able to approach Mount Analogue, it was because the invisible doors of that invisible country had been opened for us by those who guard them. The cock crowing in the milky dawn thinks its call raises the sun; the child howling in a closed room thinks its cries cause the door to open. But the sun and the mother follow courses set by the laws of their own beings. Those who see us even though we cannot see them opened the door for us, answering our puerile calculations, our steady desires, and our awkward efforts with a generous welcome."

[outroshooky]

my pretty sleeper | ksj

⇢ genre: series; part two (ghost!au; person b crying and screaming that they’re sorry, believing they caused person a’s death. person a’s ghost at their side, helplessly trying to comfort and hold someone they can no longer touch, or speak to, anymore.) (angst, fluff)

⇢ pairing: kim seokjin x reader

⇢ word count: 5.8k

⇢  warnings: major character death (reader insert); blood mention. there are darker themes here, please read with caution.

⇢ a/n: thank you for all of the positive feedback on part one!! this is a bit angstier than what i usually write but nonetheless, i’m proud of it. i hope you enjoy this winter-y fic; thank you to oh ms. believer for inspiring me all these years later (in the bleak bahamian summer, no less).

part two of the verses and vibes series. part three will be uploaded on wednesday, january 29, 2020.

“the woods are lovely, dark and deep,   but i have promises to keep,   and miles to go before i sleep,   and miles to go before i sleep.”

⤷ stopping by woods on a snowy evening; robert frost

Never in your life had you seen a more beautiful snowstorm.

Soft flakes drifted through boughs hanging like some great Gothic arches above you, a chapel of nature’s own wonderful creation. They swept past birds fluffed to fend against the bitter cold, settled around you in drifts like a miniature mountain landscape. Ahead you, the path stretched in peaceful calm, the white blanket an insulation for the sounds that leapt and tumbled with the puffs of wind exhaled from some indeterminable heaven. Somewhere to your left, a finch trilled a cheery tune, and the boysenberry vines rasped in scratchy reply. 

It was the picture-perfect scene to accompany what would, under all usual circumstances, be a nicely brisk walk in the chill of winter.

Unfortunately, these are not, by any standards, usual circumstances.

The snow falls delicately around your hustling figure, bound against the cold in nothing but the simple dress of a commoner and the jacket of a noble of the highest degree. Your outfit is completely contradicting, but it is not like you have a choice in the matter.

Because as hard as you try to will a speck of snow to settle gently in the crook of your palm, it does nothing but continue its downward descent, rocking to and fro hither and there. It passes through the translucent aura that is your hand, your arm, your entire body.

Perhaps the statement about how never in your life had you seen a more beautiful snowstorm needed to be amended to how never in your afterlife had you seen a more wonderful blizzard.

It is ever surprising to you how, though you are no longer made of tangible matter, the whistle of wind through endlessly tall trees will never cease to send a shiver down your transparent spine. The chill rests on your shoulders, curls around your neck with chilled lips; you know it must be cold, but you can’t for the life of you actually feel it. When you tread on the freshly-covered path, hurrying along in your urgency, the untouched pure white remains… untouched. When you glance behind you at the ringing of bells, no footsteps imprint on the finely frosted earth.

The horse is a dappled stallion, wide-eyed and foaming at the bit, hooves prancing high to escape the tug of the fallen snow. The gentleman sits, hands loose on the reins, comfortable in the saddle. He's handsome, with a jaw cut like glass and deep almond eyes peering out from a woolen scarf tucked beneath the folds of his jacket. As he passes by, wrapped deep in fur to fend off the chill, you step to the side of the path out of pure habit. It would take no effort at all to simply continue on your way, letting horse and rider barrel straight through your unseen figure, but you’ve learned by now that animals have a better sense of the preternatural and decided to spare the horse (and gentleman) undue panic.

The rider’s eyes never waver from the path ahead, confident and illustrious in his goings. He is bold and dashing and incredibly handsome, and you notice, too late, the scrawled insignia etched into the leather of the saddle, as refined yet regal as the very stranger who claims it.

The symbol of the nobility burns a brilliant gold against the black tanned skin, and your throat constricts with the pain of remembrance.

 Eyes as warm as the heat of summer sunshine; brow regal, fit for a king; tawny hair artfully sweeping across the breadth of his forehead; lips as plush as fat grapes in the fall; jaw as defined as a blade through wa-

The horse nickers, ridding snow from its hooves in dirt-flecked clumps, sending them straight through the aura of your petticoats.

You sigh, ruffling the folds of your dress, tucking tighter the corners of your jacket out of reflex. There are, you suppose, some benefits to being a ghost, but the complete and utter loneliness does tend to be a drawback. 

Indeed, the complete and utter loneliness makes you question whether your mission is even worth it in the first place. Is it worth trying to reconcile things with a lover when they can't even see you, hear you, feel you? You could caress their cheek with the most loving of touches, and yet they would guess it to be nothing but a passing breeze. The curse of eternity is one spent in solitude, a soul left to wander the earth with a purpose unfinished, aptly never to be ended. You watch as the horseman canters on, and something clenches in the space where your heart once nested, like the wrens that call the castle battlements home.

No. No. You cannot allow yourself to think like this. You cannot allow yourself to doubt, to assume that for a moment love is not a powerful enough force to wrest the bounds of time and shatter the fettered chains. Love is a blade more powerful than any forged sword, a fire more passionate than any raging mountain blaze. With love, one can mold a landscape to their liking, shift the sands of what is known into a brand new reality, a dawn previously inconceivable to any and all. 

Eyes as warm as the heat of summer sunshine; brow regal, fit for a king; tawny hair artfully sweeping across the breadth of his forehead; lips as plush as fat grapes in the fall; jaw as defined as a blade through wa-

The thought of him fills your mind; the gap in your chest mends. Every step you take is one step closer to him.

With every rise and fall of your boots, your boots seem to land in the tracks of the horse and rider, their figures now only a mere shadow against the backdrop of nature’s finest woodland cathedral.

The more you push on, the more memories seem to unconsciously surface in your mind. When you came to in that field, your mind was as untouched as the fallen snow. However, it took merely a wobbly rise to your feet for you to notice the massive jacket that hugged your frame, permanently welded to your aura whether you wanted it to be or not. Simply put, whatever you wore at the time of your death became your spirit’s regalia, and you often thanked the stars that you hadn’t decided to go riding in the buff that day. Not that you would in the first place.

With that jacket came the flood, as you called it. The waves of memories that lapped at the shores of your consciousness, their chaotic dances spilling foam into the crevices of your mind. They came back to you in one fell swoop, overwhelming in their sights and sensations and feelings, and you wondered how you could have, even if just for a brief moment, forgotten it all.

Eventually, the mouth of the forest opens to a broad, rutted dirt road, which has turned to mud with the advent of the blizzard. At the mouth sits a thatched roof shack, cheery with the ice that dangles precariously from the thickets of straw. Beyond it, fields of grain- sorghum and wheat and barley, their stalks cut low to the base. In a single breath, curling in on itself in the chilled air, your senses are flooded with thought and sound and breath.

“Catch me if you can!” Seokjin’s fingers slap at your shoulder, tagging you plain as day. He is barely thirteen, still gangly and slender with youth, but experienced eyes can see his frame beginning to thicken. There's delight in his eyes, a mirth that sparks double when he sees the fiery temper in your own. 

“Seokjin!” You hiss. He's playing a game of chance, egging you on as his father pauses at the edge of the forest to speak with the farmer who came bounding out of the newly-built barn. One of the things you loved about the king was his flexibility, his genuine interest in the lives of his subjects. He was willing to lend an ear to all, and it brought him a certain respect, from the lowest beggar to the highest knight. With that in mind, you dared not cross him. “Not now!”

“Papa’s not looking!” He teases, skipping backwards when you swing outwards with a well-timed smack. “Catch me if you ca-an!”

“Seokjin!” You hiss again with vigor, a concerned glance over your shoulder. “You’re not about to get us both in trouble!”

“You won't get in trouble.” He’s breathless, riled in his own games while his father talks business just beyond the magnolia bushes. “You're with me.”

“Just because you're the prince does not mean that I won't be sent to the gallows for participating in one of your stunts. This is an official business trip and I am thirteen and as so it happens your maid and I kind of need this jo-”

Without hesitation, the young prince saunters closer, leans in, and taps your nose lightly with a single digit. “I said,” Seokjin breathes, voice nearly a whisper. “Catch me if you can.”

In one fluid motion you lunge forward, your index finger landing squarely in the middle of his forehead. 

A smile breaks across his visage, radiant and mischievous, the grin of madmen. Or young boys. “Game on.”

You blink and the scene clears. The horses’ reins in your grasp evaporate, leaving you in front of a crumbling stone wall falling apart at the seams.

Peering closer, you realize the house has aged fast, too fast to be natural. The straw has grown thin in some places, the roof sagging inward, spine exhausted. The windows are grimy and cracked with age, and the foundation settles crooked into the soft earth. Beside the chimney, a rabbit twitches, darting into the brush at the inkling of eyes watching from afar. Something isn't right here, you think. Something is different from before.

You turn towards the horizon, the spires of the castle piercing the far-away arch of the sky, and continue on towards him.

He had never cared that you were only his maid.

You had been in his life as long as you could remember, and he had been in yours much the same. Your mother having been attendant to the queen meant that you inherited the duties for her royal child, born in the frigid chill of December a year and two months after you. From a young age you learned how to reorganize his endless closets and dressers, to attend him in a court of nobility, to keep a pitcher of cold water and a bottle of lavender on his bedside table every night. The fair-minded, fair-haired prince had never understood how you were any different to him- you thanked the stars his parents taught him humility from an early age- and as a result, he treated you much the same as he treated any of the other young boys in the court. You had never been “merely a maid” to him- you were a playmate, confidant, best friend, and later- much, much later- a lover. The only lover, in fact, that ever mattered to him.

He had had suitors from when he was as young as ten years old, coming to seek his hand in uniting their great kingdoms. They pranced about him in grand dresses of silk and lace, curtseying and bowing and placating themselves for his eyes. More than once, they’d nearly popped out of his head at how tight their bodices were. And yet, he never took one to be his bride- never even expressed interest in having one as his bride.

You secretly pondered if he was the stuff of legend, Ancient Greek myths that whispered of men coming together in ways that male and female could not. Meanwhile, as the years passed, you grew all the more closer to him, and he all the more closer to you. Often he'd tug a sewing needle out of your hand to insist that you go riding together, pulling you away from mending the jacket he’d torn the last time you went riding with him. He would beg you to visit him in the sparring circle to show you some new masterful combination he’d learned with sword and shield, even taking such liberties to teach you yourself some swordplay techniques. He would even take you down to the market to buy fresh vegetables for your grandmother, or new silks for a coat. It was clear that he cared about you deeply, deeper than he’d ever admit to himself for a long, long time.

Your journey continues on mile after mile; the closer you get to the center of the kingdom, the more broken down it all feels. Granted, it is the dead of winter, but the world seems to have fallen into disrepair along with it, lulled by the hypnosis of the cold into a weary, uneasy slumber. Cattle shuffle stiffly along their paddock fences; dry tufts of grass poke through the chilled mud. Civilians too hustle, wrapped in rags without splendor or hint of grace, trying their hardest to protect against the frosty bite. So much has changed in the brief time you've been gone, and for the first time, worry begins to gnaw at your thoughts with true voracity. It doesn't feel right, none of this does; but you know in the core of your being, that this, somehow, is home. 

With every landmark you pass, a new memory washes over you, scent and sight and feeling. You make a left at the second crossroads and continue on at the third, but your mind flashes back to the times you went right and then left to the beekeepers’ fields, or left and then right to the carpenter’s shack. Every memory rekindles a bit of something in you, something that you can name only as humanity, and you swear the chill’s begun to set in a little colder than it was before. You are more alive now than ever, you think.

It is as if in the brief time you slumbered, the world aged a hundred years without you. The miles to the city walls pass quickly, but not without mention. The closer you get, the more decrepit it all feels- richly constructed halls now ground to sawdust, fields of grain and vegetables now plains of snow and ice. The walls themselves are in poor shape, the dull stones lacking the regal glory they once held, and you ache at the sight. Once the pride and joy of the kingdom, now a sad hallmark- if there was anything left of the kingdom to begin with. 

A mere trickle of people flows on either side of the gate, a much, much slower stream from the constant push-pull of the tides you’re used to. Here, the roar was once chaos- a wave of crowds jostling in, a tide of jovial citizens pouring out in a flood of color and sound and energy. But the banners flutter threadbare, flapping without statement in the wind, as if they have fallen asleep at the helm, in the bleak of midwinter, in the midst of it all.

You crane your neck to see the guards as you approach, careful to keep your space from the few stragglers limping up the path along with you. In your youth, you knew every castle employee, every knight and guard and maid. Now, you squint till the nearest stern face comes into view, and realize, with a jolt of clarity, you don't recognize him at all.

His face is cold-cut, molded from a block of iron. His lips are pressed tightly together, back as straight as a ramrod, mouth as firm as an oak tree. He is completely unfamiliar to you, and for some reason, trepidation begins to roll a metaphorically thrilling drum beat in your stomach.

The fear, which had numbed to a gentle stream in the back of your conscious (if you could call it that), rose to a fever pitch. 

Something was horribly, horribly wrong, and you were absolutely determined to find out what.

You had a feeling that this is what you were brought back for, to get to the bottom of this horrid stunt, to find out why everything you knew had been thrown off its axis in one fell swoop. It thrummed in your silent pulse, lofted like owls’ wings through the quiet of the forest. No was simply not an answer, and when a renewed sense of determination beat in the space where your heart would have been, you touched your chest with a sudden burst of fondness. Seokjin was close, so close. It would be like old times; together, you would solve this, bring closure to this plague of wintertime. And you, his wonderful bride, reunited with him as if no time had ever been wasted in between. Not to mention you were home, back in your city, the place you had labored to visit for days, weeks, even months since you’d awoken in that godforsaken wheat field with a royal riding jacket wrapped around your shoulders.

Unassumingly, the guard turns his head and stares straight at you, gaze blank, numbly focused.

You hold your breath for one moment, two.

He blinks, stark eyes staring right through you, and thumbs the rutted shaft of his spear. You force yourself to tear your gaze away from his own, and, with only a moment’s hesitation, stride unfailing into the heart of the kingdom.

Your walk to the castle, at the very top of the city, is seemingly the longest, most arduous part of your journey by far.

Everywhere you look, in every corner seems to be darkness and despair. Shapeless forms, nameless figures cluster around pathetic fires, which sputter and lick with the will of the wind. Dead leaves tumble down the cobblestones to embed themselves in snowbanks, piled up high, effective barriers against the frost for the unlucky souls with no other place to go. Doors are wrenched shut but rattle every now and then, the muted glow under their edges a telltale indicator of the separation between poor and poorer. You hasten to avoid those clusters around the fires, god forbid a careless sweep of your petticoat extinguishes what little hope they have left. You pause for a moment when you see a mother clutching a child to her chest, wishing not for the first time you could simply reach out and make her problems melt away. If anything, you’d only make her feel worse, the lofty draft of your fingertips an added stress upon her already narrow shoulders.

With every step you take, you can feel the individual consciousnesses trapped here crying out for you, flocking to you, a bright burning candle flame against a backdrop of nighttime. There are so many souls beneath the ground, you wonder if there was some sort of famine. Does Seokjin see any of this? Where has he been? The questions plague you one after the other, much like the howling spirits that crowd the back of your mind, individually vying for your attention. No, you reassure yourself. I know him. Seokjin must have the situation under control, or if not, he's working to get it under control. The kingdom will be saved; happily-ever-after is just out of your reach, soon within. It simply cannot be any other way.

The higher and higher you climb, the more desolate the path becomes. It is clear that the only people who trek up here nowadays are the guards on their shift rotations, but even then, you’ve noticed less and less the closer you get to the castle. We had plenty of guards; I don't understand why the sudden lack, you think to yourself. Sooner or later you will have your answer, though, because you find yourself at the base of the castle, and your mouth drops open in some sickened form of awe.

Ah yes, what's the name of that feeling?

Horror.

Your home has fallen into disrepair, a state of shambles that never would have been allowed in the days of your lifetime. 

There are cracks and crevices that fracture the bones of the grand hall, splits and nicks in the wood from years of neglect. There once perched gargoyles and flowers and creations atop the limestone columns, so wonderfully sculpted that they seem to leap from their very material constraints into living, breathing figures. Now, only shattered fragments of the beasts remain, flower petals chipped away to fall hundreds of feet to the stiff dead stalks of grass below. A castle, once inhibited with beauty and life, now lies dormant, sleeping, decaying. A single piece of limestone, the wing of a butterfly, shears off, rebounding off the gutter to tumble to the dirt. From dust it is made, and to dust it shall return, but if you had a heart, you swear you would have felt it break.

Once again, it is the thought of him that keeps you moving, pushing on, except the fear is all-consuming now, a snarling dog snapping at the heels of your fantasy. You can barely think as you approach those great dark oaken doors, palm flat against the decaying planks as you pause, your eyes fluttering shut.

You still, readying yourself for this. This, the thing you have been waiting for, the only thing to keep you going, demanding that day after day you push on. Anticipation of it has pulsed in your veins for days, weeks; the closer you got, the more anxious and excited you became, but it is here now. It is here; there is nothing you can do to stop the hands of fate, for she brought you here to reunite you with him, Seokjin, the prince of your land but the king of your heart.

The toe of your boot eases into the splintering wood, and in one beat, your entire body passes through into the grand entrance hall.

For all of your preparation, however, nothing could possibly steel you for what lay on the other side of those doors.

The grand hall looked like it had been ransacked by an army. 

The stone arches above your head no longer bore their weight proudly, but drooped with depression suggesting hopelessness. A flurry of activity buzzed around you, a servant even stepping through you by pure mistake, but it was not the kind of bustling, cheery frenzy you were used to. This was a quiet kind of frenzy much like silent fury, the calm before the storm. Footsteps resonated against the grand ceilings flaked with paint, yet there was no exchange of greetings, no playful step of the servant children. It was an atmosphere so foreign it may as well have been a completely different house, rather than the home you knew so well as your own.

The throne room is many paces away from the entrance hall, but with your internalized map of the castle, it took a few mere passes through walls (and a left, another left, and a right) to land you in the hall of kings, or the waiting room outside of the throne room. There is a layer of dust that sits upon the artifacts, the Staff of Arrn’och, among others, nearly broken in two in its display case. Everywhere you looked, it seemed, was desolation. God forbid what the throne room itself would look like.

With a sudden bang!, the doors at the far end of the room were thrown open, a ragged, hunched figure stumbling through the open gap. Male or female you could not discern, matted strings of hair shielding its twisted visage, but the sobs its lungs produced pierced you to the core. The pair of guards at the opposite end of the room strode forward, collecting the pathetic creature by the underarms and practically dragging it down the muddy rug. Although you could pass through whatever surface you pleased, your instinct urged you through the gap in the closing doors, and you managed to slip past just as they slammed shut behind you.

In front of you lay a dias, fifty feet in diameter, upon which two thrones of the same size sat, both lonely, one bare. While large windows perched over the dias, casting blocks of light across the stone floor, any natural light that managed to filter into the high-ceilinged hall was dulled by grit and grime. Torches flickered low in their sconces, doing their best to compensate, but instead casting shadows across the walls that seemed to flinch at the quickest intake of breath. Indeed, the throne room had suffered much in your absence; it was as if you stepped into a nightmarish equivalent of your past life.

It was too dark to see the face of the king as you approached, his profile framed by shadow as he argued with an attendant.

“-can’t turn down every citizen who wants to make an audience with you and has good reason to do so,” The attendant insisted, his tone desperate. “The people are starving, but they haven't lost hope! They're looking to you, Your Majest-”

“And why would they look to me?” The king snapped, voice gravelly, a thickness there that you’d never heard before. “What good have I been to them? Haven't they seen enough of me yet? Every day, a miserable existence, and they seek to know my counsel on matters such as one calf between them?”

“One calf, my king, would provide food for their children for three days,” the attendant murmured gently. “Your people need you now, more than ever.”

But the king seemed not to hear, dismissing the attendant with a flick of his hand. “I can't hear any more.”

The attendant hesitated just a fraction, but bowed respectfully. “As you wish.”

It was at this moment you realized there were only two thrones, not the three you had been expecting. Although the queen had passed many years before, they had always kept a throne in its place for her, in her honor. You wondered now at this- where was Seokjin’s throne? 

The king, bowed over with the bridge of his nose pinched between two fingers, paid you no mind as you approached, dipping a respectful curtsy out of habit. He’d certainly gone grayer in these last few months, his shoulders having lost their proud touch, and he looked as if he was a completely different man, aging a hundred years in the mere two hundred hours it had taken you to get back to the place you so lovingly called home.

In your living days, you would not have dared step up the dias to look at the king eye-to-eye, god forbid he strike you down himself. But you were not alive, and these were desperate times, and desperate times called for desperate measures.

And so, with one fluid motion, you stepped atop the dias, skirt swirling around your ankles as you paused, waiting for something, but you did not know what. 

The king lifted his head, and as your eyes met his, aged with the aches and pains of ruling, you felt as if someone had ripped the very carpet out from underneath your feet and cast you back to the underworld below.

Because these were not the clear eyes of the king, sparkling and gentle in their mirth. These were not the bright pupils that brought forth memories of afternoons spent on the lake, or crystal clear waterfalls that tumbled through mysterious glades. 

No, these eyes were dark, once as rich as chocolate, but now as muddied as silt. Cataracts strung silky webs across the clag, weaving intricate patterns in the depths of emotion, rendering not only the viewer incapable of reading emotion, but the seer incapable of, well- doing just that. While crows’ feet stamped their corners and fine lines etched their lids, you would know those eyes even if you had seen them once in ten thousand years, for they stamped themselves onto your soul all that time ago, never to be undone by any mortal power.

“Seokjin?” You gasp, and at once, all of time seems to stand still.

For it is indeed Kim Seokjin who sits on the king’s throne, his beautiful features softened with age and the passage of time but still regal, ever unforgettable. He is enthrallingly handsome, but your heart aches evermore, because you have missed it all.

You have missed seeing the aches and pains of early, and then middle age set in. You have missed watching his child, the prince or princess (and surely more than one), stumble across the floor of the nursery for the first time. You have missed him sleeping in the early morning, worrying in the late evening; you have missed him in bed and in combat and all things in between. For it has been years, perhaps decades since your death, and in one horrifying moment, it clicks into perspective.

And then he tilts his head up at you and whispers your name, and it is as if every weight on your metaphysical shoulders has been lifted. “Is it really you?”

“Yes,” you warble; somehow tears streak your cheeks, pale in their sheen. “Yes, Seokjin, I'm so sorry; I'm here now, it's me-” you grab for his hand, but it passes right through, and he recoils at the draft. “I'm so fucking sorry.”

Flashes. A golden field, merry horses, a beautiful spring day. “Take my jacket, my darling. It will keep you warm.”

Hooves pounding, heart racing. The royal horses are afraid of practically nothing, their one fear far from your mind, unworthy of mention. Together you dash through the meadows, up and over hills and valleys. What you would give to run free with him forever.

“She's here,” Seokjin’s voice nearly breaks as he half-rises from his chair, extending an arm to brush his thumb along your cheek. “After so long waiting for my queen, she's finally here.”

“You can see me?” You beg for clarity, but alas, he does not reply.

You pause atop a hill crested with wildflowers, white and pink rivers that cascade down the landscape, tumbling, flowing unbridled and uninhibited. Seokjin is a mere few paces behind you, slowing to appreciate the beauty ahead of you.

“My lord?” The attendant steps forward

“Can you not see her?” Seokjin turns, gesturing to you. “She's right here. She's come back to me after so long,” and there's so much fondness, so much promise in his voice that you know, just know that things will be okay. You will right every wrong, fight every demon- “I have missed her dearly.”

“I've missed you too,” you choke. “With every bone in my body I have missed you; I have been walking for days, Seokjin, I'm so sorry-”

It is then that your horse nickers and tenses, rearing without warning and whinnying like the devil himself. He panics, lashing and whirling about, and you can only hold on for so long before you are thrown from his back like a rock from a slingshot.

Seokjin is screaming. You have never heard him scream like that before, a sound that seems to so purely channel fear and terror and anguish, all in one. He is a roaring fury, knife drawn from his belt, and he beheads the snake lying hidden in one fluid motion before dropping to his knees at your side. His shoulders shake as he weeps, cradling your body to his as your eyes roll back in your head and you cough, frame shuddering, barely conscious.

“Sire, there is nobody there,” The attendant says, as softly, carefully as he can.

“Don't leave me,” he’s sobbing, over and over. “This is all my fucking fault, I'm so sorry, so so sorry-”

“My love,” you whisper, fingers brushing the inside of his palm. It is all the strength you can muster. “I will have gone a thousand years, but to still find your eyes imprinted on the breath of my soul.”

He’s whimpering, blubbering, desperate, screaming for help. Screaming and screaming, but there is no one to stop the ceaseless flow of blood, and your final act of life is to stain the sleeves of his riding jacket crimson where it lies comfortable across the breadth of your shoulders.

“I have never forgotten you,” he exhales. “It has been sixty years and not one day have I gone without envisioning your face in my hands, beautiful.”

“I’ll fix this,” you promise, but it's starting to fall into place now, why everything around you is falling apart. “I'll help fix the kingdom if you would just tell me what's wrong, Seokjin. Please, I want to help. Tell me what I can do.”

“I have loved you perhaps too much,” his voice cracks, wobbles with ache. “I've neglected these people, our people. I say our people because you have always been my queen; I have never taken another; there is no one who is worthy of replacing you.” 

“Perhaps you should retire for the night, my king. You've had a long and tiresome day,” The attendant tries to coax Seokjin, but he pays the servant no mind.

“You're here in this moment for a reason, my sweet. You're here and we will fix this, I promise you,” Seokjin is nearly begging, the urgency in his voice bleeding scarlet. He rushes forward towards you. “We will fix this together-”

“Seokjin, my love-” You rush towards him with the same intensity, but your hand passes through his chest, and suddenly you are staring up at him, and his eyes are blank, unseeing.

The attendant clears his throat. “Your Majesty, there is no one there, sir. It is merely a draft.”

“I want to help you,” you plead, fingers tracing his sternum, his ribs, his heart. “I'm here, Seokjin. I'm here, right in front of you; I'm here. Believe in me. Believe in us; believe in love as I have believed in love. Please.”

The once-legendary prince, now dishonorable king looks out over a barren, desolate throne room as a zephyr of cold brushes icy digits down his shoulder, along his chest. “Ah,” he utters, sounding exhausted all at once. “I believe you're right.” A small chuckle parses his lips. “What am I saying? Perhaps I shall retire for the night, yes.” He pauses. “Goodnight, Yoongi.”

“Goodnight, my lord.” 

“Yoongi?”

“Yes, my king?”

“Start keeping the fire burning in the hearth. It's too drafty in this hall in the evenings.”

“Yes, Your Majesty. Sleep well.”

“You as well, my faithful servant.”

[basicsofislam]

ISLAM 101: Your Faith: Part 10

Belief in the Divine Decree

What Does Belief in the Divine decree Mean?

This means firm belief that everything, good and bad, takes place by the will of Allah, who does whatever He desires. Nothing can happen without His will, and not even the like of a weight of an atom in the heavens or the earth escapes His knowledge. However, He commands His servants to do certain acts and forbids them to do certain others, giving them free will to do whatever they please without being forced to do anything against their will. He created them as well as their ability to do things. He guides whomever He wills in His mercy and misguides whomever He wills in His absolute wisdom. He will not be questioned about what He does, but people will be questioned for what they do.

Belief in the divine decree is one of the pillars of faith. When the Prophet r was once asked about faith, he said, “It is to believe in Allah, His angels, His books, His messengers, the Last Day and to believe in the divine decree, the good and the bad of it.” (Saheeh Muslim: 8)

What Does Belief in the Divine Decree Include?

Belief in Allah’s decree includes the following:

“We have shown him the way, whether he be grateful or ungrateful.” (Soorat Al-Insaan, 76:3)

The belief that Allah I knows everything and that He knew everything about His creation even before He brought them into being. His foreknowledge includes their provisions, their appointed time in life, their words and deeds, all their doings, whatever they conceal and reveal, those who will be admitted into Paradise as well as those who will be sent to Hellfire. The Qur’an says, “He is Allah, other than Whom there is no other god, the Knower of the Invisible and the Visible.” (Soorat Al-Hashr, 59:22)

The belief that He recorded everything that will exist according to His prior knowledge in the Preserved Tablet (Book of Decrees), as the Qur’an states, “No misfortune can happen on earth or in yourselves but is recorded in a Book before We bring it into being.” (Soorat Al-Hadeed, 57:22) The Prophet r also said in this connection, “Allah recorded the measurement of all matters pertaining to creation fifty thousand years before He created the heavens and the earth.” (Saheeh Muslim: 2653)

The belief that Allah’s will is absolute and cannot be frustrated or challenged by any power whatsoever. Indeed, everything takes place according to His will. Whatever He wills certainly takes place and whatever he does not will cannot possibly take place. The Qur’an says, “But you will not will unless Allah wills, the Lord of all the Worlds.” (Soorat At-Takweer, 81:29)

The belief that Allah I is the originator of everything, that He is the only Creator besides whom there is no creator, that everything in existence was created by Him and that He has power over all things, as the Qur’an states, “He created everything and determined it most exactly.” (Soorat Al-Furqaan, 25:2)

Man Has Free Will, Free Choice and the Ability to Do as he Pleases

“We have shown him the way, whether he be grateful or ungrateful.” (Soorat Al-Insaan, 76:3) .

Belief in the divine decree in no way implies that man does not have free will or that he cannot choose his own actions. This can be proven by Islamic textual evidence as well as by concrete evidence in the real world.

The Qur’an says, “That is the Day of Truth. So whoever wills should take the path that leads to his Lord.” (Soorat An-Naba’, 78:39)

Regarding man’s power and will to do as he chooses, the Qur’an states, “Allah will not force any soul beyond its capacity: It shall have the good which it has gained, and it shall suffer the evil which it has gained.” (Soorat Al-Baqarah, 2:286)

Based on concrete evidence in the real world, every person knows that he has the free will and ability to do whatever he wants. With these, he can choose between things. He can do some things willingly, such as walking, but he cannot possibly do some other things willingly, such as shivering or a sudden fall. It remains to be said that man’s will and ability can only take place following those of Almighty Allah, as the Qur’an states, “It is nothing but a Reminder to all the worlds to whoever among you wishes to go straight. But you will not will unless Allah wills, the Lord of all the Worlds.” (Soorat At-Takweer, 81:27-9)

If a person assaulted you, harmed you and robbed you of your money, claiming that he had done this because it had been decreed by Allah, you would certainly consider his excuse completely absurd and unacceptable, and you would definitely punish him and claim your money because he had actually done this entirely of his own volition.

Using Divine Decree as an Excuse to Commit Sins

The obligations of observing religious duties, abiding by divine commands and avoiding divine prohibitions is conditional upon man’s free will and ability to do as he chooses. Accordingly, the virtuous will be rewarded for choosing the path of righteousness, and the evil will be punished for choosing the path of wickedness.

Almighty Allah I does not impose a duty upon us that is beyond our capacity, and He does not want any one of us to neglect his religious duties by using divine decree as an excuse.

Besides, Allah I has endowed us with free will and the ability to choose our own actions and has clearly pointed to us the path of righteousness and that of wickedness. Therefore, if we disobey Allah, such disobedience comes only of our own choosing and thus we will have to bear the consequences of this choice.

Benefits of Belief in the Divine Decree

Belief in the divine decree has numerous benefits in people’s lives, including the following:

1) It is one of the best incentives to act in a manner that is pleasing to Almighty Allah in this life. The believers are commanded to do what they can possibly do, to the best of their ability, relying upon Allah I. They believe that whatever they do cannot possibly yield any results without Allah’s will, because Allah is the Creator of the causes and effects. The Prophet r once said, “Cherish that which gives you benefit [in the Hereafter], seek help from Allah and do not lose heart. If anything unpleasant happens to you, do not say, ‘If I had done such-and-such, such-and-such would have happened instead.’ Rather say, ‘Qaddarallaahu wa maa shaa’a fa‛ala (This is Allah’s decree, and He does whatever He wills)’, for the words ‘if only’ begin the work of Satan.” (Saheeh Muslim: 2664)

2) Belief in divine decree prompts man to realise his own self worth, and so he tries to avoid self-conceit and arrogance, for he knows that he does not know what has been decreed for him. This makes him admit his weakness and need for Allah I and thus urges him to turn to Him constantly. Generally, man becomes conceited when something good happens to him and becomes rather sad and dejected when something bad befalls him. Only belief in the divine decree will protect man from such arrogance in times of ease and dejection in times of hardship, for he knows that things happen according to Allah’s decree and His foreknowledge.

3) Belief in divine decree helps overcome the vice of envy. A true believer does not envy people for the bounties Allah has bestowed upon them, for He knows that it is Allah I who has granted them such bounties in the first place and that envying others is tantamount to objecting to Allah’s decree.

4) It fills the believer’s heart with courage and strengthens his determination in the face of hardships, for he knows that his worldly provision and appointed time to depart the world has already been decreed by Allah I and that nothing will happen to him except what Allah has decreed for him.

5) It instils in him the numerous realities of faith. Consequently, he constantly seeks Allah’s assistance, places his trust in Allah after doing what is required of him and always shows his need for Allah from whom he derives support to stay on the straight path.

6) It provides him with reassurance and fills his heart with peace and contentment, for he knows that what has passed him by was not going to befall him and that what has befallen him was not going to pass him by.

Parts 1-10

http://reverthelp.tumblr.com/post/119767721536/islam-101-your-faith-part-1

http://reverthelp.tumblr.com/post/119839552406/islam-101-your-faith-part-2

http://reverthelp.tumblr.com/post/119929513926/islam-101-your-faith-part-3

http://reverthelp.tumblr.com/post/120010992261/islam-101-your-faith-part-4

http://reverthelp.tumblr.com/post/120094504146/islam-101-your-faith-part-5

http://reverthelp.tumblr.com/post/120178957811/islam-101-your-faith-part-6

http://reverthelp.tumblr.com/post/120257656936/islam-101-your-faith-part-7

http://reverthelp.tumblr.com/post/120339540206/islam-101-your-faith-part-8

http://reverthelp.tumblr.com/post/120431195746/islam-101-your-faith-part-9

[sunshineandfangs]

Klarosummer - Treehouse || Cartref Enaid

@klarosummerbingo

Caroline breathed in absorbing the scents of the forest. Wood. Soil. Water. Fresh, earthen smells that had become harder and harder to find in the modern world. Not that the whims of humans truly affected her, isolated as she was in her own realm, but it was still a shame to witness. 

No matter.

She ran meticulous fingertips across the bark of her tree, weaving fine threads of her magick through its wood. It thrummed under her touch, sending slow, powerful pulses into the earth. Her tree, nurtured from a seed by her power and carefully crafted to bridge the border between the land she called home and the land of mortals, would never wilt or wither. Human toxins meant nothing to an Immortal and just as little to an Immortal’s creation.

The pulses grew fainter, settling into the background, as its roots burrowed new paths in new soil. 

Stepping back from the tree, Caroline held her hand aloft and gently nudged at the humming bond she could feel in the back of her mind. She felt the slight returned flutter of acknowledgement and waited.

Waited as light shifted through leaves, the sun and moon crossed paths, the realm carved out its new home. Time was an odd illusion amidst such dense magick.

And then, on near silent wings, a large, black bird appeared in the distance, elegantly swooping through the overhead branches with ease. The bird gently landed on her forearm, emitting an affectionate croak.

A smile tugged at her lips and Caroline cooed at her bird, petting the glossy feathers on her head.

“Welcome back, Branwen, what news have you to share?”

The large raven shuffled up her arm to perch more comfortably on her shoulder, taking a moment to preen at the golden strands of her hair. With a rustle of feathers, Branwen settled as their bond hummed between them. A low and raspy, though still feminine, voice echoed through Caroline’s mind accompanied by images of new places and people.

It seems our tree has settled itself in a small town this time. The inhabitants call it, Mystic Falls.

Caroline’s lip twitched. A rather apropos name to be certain.

Quite. The whole place is also swarming with witch spawn, mostly children of the blood but also some children of the moon.

Her eyebrows rose. Really, now? Both of them? Surely, there has been a blood bath or two by now?

Not recently, insofar as I can derive. The earth carries echoes of a slaughter of the children of the moon sometime in the recent past, but currently it is two factions of the children of the blood that are quarreling. And one of those factions is...aberrant.

How do you mean, my friend?

They seem to be an odd amalgamation of both blood and moon. One of them reeks of old blood and a near feral wolf. The rest are settled moon children carrying the scent of recent death and blood.

Caroline’s brow furrowed as she contemplated Branwen’s words, more carefully scrutinizing the handful of scenes her familiar had observed. As Branwen reported, their faces bore eyes of wolf gold yet also the fangs and dark veins of the blood children.

I see. How curious...My thanks, Branwen. Mayhaps, I shall venture into this so-named Mystic Falls myself.

Caroline lifted her other arm, careful to not jostle her friend, and conjured several field mice. Appearing between one blink and the next, the newborn rodents scurried hurriedly for cover.

Branwen croaked with delight, jetting off her shoulder in a flurry of feathers to her well wishes of a happy hunt.

---

Caroline couldn’t quite restrain the faint crinkle of her nose as she took in the unimpressive visage of the establishment cheerfully announcing itself as the “Mystic Grill.” It was...quaint, she supposed.

The inside was a bit better, containing all the appropriate accouterments: a bar, multiple tables with varying degrees of privacy, a few game tables and a dart board or two.

With a slight eye-roll at herself (honestly, she wasn’t here to sight see), she made her way toward the bar. The barkeep was young, very young, likely too young to drink himself according to modern rulings. It was curious that he was behind the counter. 

She offered him a small smile and a subtle flutter of her lashes. “Good evening,” her eyes flicked to his name-tag, “Matthew, I am feeling rather partial to an Old Fashioned tonight.”

“Could I see some ID, ma’am?”

She chuckled, wondering how he would react to her true age, but produced a card all the same. A wonderful piece of charm work, he would see a perfectly genuine driver’s license declaring her Caroline Morgans, age 23.

He passed it back with a thanks and shuffled around to start mixing her drink.

“Well, well I haven’t seen you around here before.”

Caroline restrained a second eye-roll, this one far more well-deserved, with difficulty. She peered over her shoulder, taking in the new presence beside her.

Dark hair. Icy blue eyes. A handsome face. She had a feeling she wouldn’t like him. He practically oozed false charm and arrogance.

“I should think not, seeing as I just arrived earlier today,” she answered, curtly.

“Oohh unclench, Barbie. So tense, maybe I can help you relax? Hm?” He waggled his eyebrows outrageously, in a manner she assumed he thought flirtatious.

This time she didn’t bother to restrain her reaction, letting a slight sneer curl on her lips.

“Pass.”

The clack of a glass being set down interrupted any further insult she may have uttered and she gave an acknowledging nod and smile to the boy as he stepped away to help other customers.

She sipped at her drink relishing the bite of the whiskey and bitters smoothed by a hint of sweetness and citrus. It was a decent drink, but the experience was marred by two things. The irritant’s continued presence next to her and a faint aftertaste of something herbal. It took a moment to place it, but she soon realized it was vervain and wolfsbane.

Not so ignorant then.

Before she could further contemplate the mounting curiosities of the tiny town, the pest interjected once more.

“No need to be rude, Barbie. I assure you, I’m quite the hit with the ladies.” Caroline leveled a ferocious glare in his direction as he placed his hand on her forearm and watched with increasing outrage as his pupil dilated. “So, come with me.”

Her fury seethed low in her belly as she stood to follow the little cretin, quite eager to teach the mannerless cur a lesson. Nevermind the audacity he had to try to control her mind, his casual air sealed his fate. 

A desire to feed would be one thing, but his words implied something quite different. Some of her bloodkin would be enraged only by his audacity and not his crime, but for her - she with her tumultuous relationships with her half-siblings and the memory of a troubled boy whose blood named him her nephew twice over - for her consent meant something.

The fool led her into the back alley, taking no time to try to compel anything else, simply slamming her against the wall. His face rippled into dark eyes and veins and fangs, his hands wandering places they had no right to.

He had his chance.

In an instant, she reversed their positions, pinning him to the bricks with ease. His confusion was obvious as he clawed at her arm, a mere tickle to her, and he shouted.

“What the fuck?! What are you?”

Caroline just hummed in the back of her throat, pondering appropriate punishments even as she absently answered. “Now, who is being rude? Asking such crass questions.”

Ah, now there’s an idea.

She leaned forward, easily bypassing his flailing to blow into his ear.

A little pain, she thought, as she swiftly stepped back, allowing the creature to fall into a screaming heap. And a little training. Her magick eagerly burned through his brain and body, weaving her curse into his flesh, into his bone, saturating his blood, tying it with razored hooks to the very essence of him. Anytime he thought to force his will upon others, he would burn. Just as he was now.

No longer interested in arrogant vampire’s fate - assured her magick would do as she intended - she turned to regard the second presence in the alley. A much older one that she had sensed follow them from the bar.

“Enjoy the show?” She drawled.

A wicked, little smirk crossed his lips, even as his eyes remained dark and guarded.

“Immensely. A Fae’s vengeance is always a lovely thing to behold.”

Well, well this one was quite informed. Though, she supposed he ought to be at his age.

He extended an arm to her. “Would you care to walk with me?”

She took it. “I do so hope you do not intend to waste my time, child of the blood and moon.”

“Please, call me, Klaus.” He dimpled at her. “And I prefer the term ‘Hybrid’ myself.”

Caroline eyed him, allowing some of her curiosity to color her expression.

“Klaus, then, why is it you sought me out?”

---

Caroline traced the swirls of the handsome mahogany table, intrigued by Klaus’ tale. A bit intrigued by the man himself as well, if she were honest.

“Your wolf is new to you, is he not?”

He narrowed his eyes at her. “In a manner of speaking.”

She chortled, tickled by his careful wording. He was certainly wise to tread so carefully, but she was too interested to harm him at the moment. Not that she would tell him that.

“You told me you seek your family. Family is pack for a wolf. You do not lose pack. Cannot,” she emphasized.

He looked like he had been about to interrupt, though his mouth shut with a click of his teeth at the ‘cannot.’ 

“You’re saying I should be able to...sense their location.” 

She nodded. “I can understand the importance of family, Klaus. So I offer you this insight with no debt or strings: embrace your wolf. Shift. Run. He’s practically feral, and it is no wonder you cannot use all of his senses.” She paused, wondering at what she was about to offer, but opted to indulge. “I shall run with you. We will find your family.”

---

The last time Klaus had turned it had been frenzied, surrounded by the power of a broken curse and a full moon, quick. Now, it was the force of his will hastening the process, rapidly shattering and reshaping bone.

He growled low in his throat, the sound transformed to a guttural howl as the transformation completed.

This time he could feel the wildness in his blood, his wolf a heavy presence alongside his vampire. Powerful in a way it wasn’t, when his curse broke. He turned with a snarl as something moved in his peripheral vision.

A large gray wolf stood a few paces away.

His snarl cut off as he tilted his head, inhaling a familiar scent.

Magic. Tree. Fae. Woman. She-wolf? Bombarded his thoughts in a tumbling stream of consciousness, his wolf sounding both puzzled and delighted.

She chuffed at him.

Follow. 

She then turned and darted into the woods, his wolf hot at her heels.

They ran for miles, leaping over logs and foliage, traversing the forest with supernatural swiftness. And as his frantic energy started to burn out, his mind grew sharper. His wolf and vampire blurred at their edges, blending together. He started to feel a slight tug, and an instinct to move toward it.

Pack. A growl sounded in the back of his mind and Klaus pivoted, following the pull, the other wolf now running at his side.

Pack.

---

Author’s note: Fun fact: I am being lazy with my titles recently. Yesterday’s siren themed one was named “sing” in Greek while today’s is “Soul Home” in Welsh (according to Google translate anyway).