#c: invigilavi

[shardclan]

It was well known on Horizon's Landing that the Imperator, in spite of his title, was neither a tactician or a warrior of any renown. His forced glamour rendered him flightless, his magic hadn't functioned in eons, and his lack of experience was only barely balanced by an innate mistrust for the intentions of those around him. Like the Judge who raised him, he had little physical strength and relied on presence, wisdom, and a thoughtful approach to keep those around him in check.

Heaven had always considered himself and Invigilavi similar spirits, but it was hard to imagine himself with the expression Lavi wore. His tail whipped in a straight line back and forth behind him with all the furious energy of a metronome gone mad. His fists were filled with bundles of his cloak, and his clothes looked like they had weathered similar abuse.

Lavi looked up, and the audible grind of his jaw ceased. He descended on Heaven like a wrathful wind. 

"How is he?" he demanded in a hissed whisper.

"He's stable," Heaven answered sympathetically. "We were able to remove the horn without complication, and Saber acted as volunteer channeler to get his magic levels back into a safe state. Rest, food, and physical rehabilitation will do the rest."

"And Rubranova?" Lavi's fins drooped as soon as the words left his mouth. He released his grip on his robes, and cursed himself.

Rubranova was Heaven's niece.

"...I'm sorry."

"Don't be, Imperator. The state of the Queen's Knight is a valid concern for you to have." Heaven took a deep breath, unclenched his jaw, and discreetly wiped at his nose. "She's in critical condition. Shock, from the blood loss. I'm keeping her alive by giving her my own vitality."

"Can she use more? Do you need more?"

"Thank you, but Dantalion is ensuring I don't overdo it, and vitality will not aid her recovery. She needs blood for that. Middlemist offered the tied-vein method, but no amount of my life energy will get Ruby through that in her condition."

"What do you need?"

"Coagulum, ideally." He smiled bitterly. "Assuming she hasn't been enthralled."

"If she hasn't, I will have her to you as soon as possible." His shoulders fell. He gave a sigh like settling earth, and ran his thumb over his knuckles. "...What about Rebis?"

"Briefly lapsed in and out a few times, but she seems stable now."

His tailed swayed thoughtfully and he touched his fingers respectfully to Invigilavi's arm. "I understand the urgency of the situation and that she is the only one capable of shedding any light on the situation... But please be gentle with her."

"Why would I not; she's my sister! I found her without the crown, for the god's sake!"

"That's exactly what I mean," Heaven pointed out gently. "She's physically unscathed, but her mental state is very poor right now. If you must go in, please give her space and support. None of us have any idea what she has seen today."

The flicker of the starsap lamps lent eeriness to the already dungeon-like rooms of the infirmary. They cast a cold hue on Rebis' already glassy expression, and gave a chill pallor to her round cheeks.

Lavi glanced at the figure of Middlemist keeping watch over her from a chair against the wall, and subtly dipped his head toward the door. Heaven's words had found their mark, and Lavi wanted them to be alone.

The only sign Rebis gave that she was even aware of them was a subtle bob of her throat as the door clicked shut behind Middlemist.

"Where's Ashlesha...?"

"He's... giving me some space." He hesitated momentarily, before taking Middlemist's seat. The lie, white as it was, didn't sit well with him, and he added: "He feels guilty."

"He shouldn't be. He was right. To want to get you and him away from Aphaster City." Her throat bobbed again, and she shuddered. "He did the right thing, please tell him so."

"I will."

Silence settled in, leaving Lavi to consider what should happen next. Even when she had awakened after the accident at the Circle, she hadn't been like this. Solemn, regretful, maybe a little lost, but mostly just tired and confused. She didn't look tired now. Her eyes were open and seemed attentive, but they were dull and lifeless.  

Her voice pierced his thoughts, as thin and breaking as a glass needle . "I saw her."

"Who?"

"Titi-tet." She shut her eyes, as if to block out a harsh light. "She was beautiful. Perfect. And for a moment I thought to myself...she deserved the crown. She had taken it from me, and it was so stupid of me to try and retrieve it when I had lost it so easily."

"That was only the enthrallment. You fought it off. You got your crown back."

She continued as though she hadn't even heard him. "I thought Rubranova was enthralled. I could have warned her, but I didn't know who to trust, so I just--went straight to Arcanus. I was so certain once I did that, everything would be fine. I thought he was invincible." Her hands plucked with increasing urgency at the pilled fibers of the wool blanket covered her. "Until I woke up covered in his blood."

"You took good care of them," he assured. "They're both alive thanks to you."

Her fingers closed around the blankets like the jaws of a trap snapping shut. Her breaths grew short and her fins curled so tight around her head, Lavi worried she would puncture them on the crown.

"They could have just as easily died," she said in acid tones that didn’t seem aimed at him as much as herself. "I was lucky. I tightened a makeshift compress and checked on a wound that was already taken care of. I had their lives in my hands and there was nothing I could do."

"You gave Arcanus your magic!" Lavi stressed.

"I gave Arcanus arcane magic that I shouldn't even have!" she shot back inconsolably. "Maybe I saved him! Maybe I contaminated him! I don't know! I just did whatever risky half-formed idea came to my mind because I was--I was--"

"Scared," Lavi finished.

"Powerless. They almost died to save me--I trusted them to save me...! But when it was my turn, all I could do was call for help." Her tiny shoulders shivered, and tears dropped onto her knuckles. "I'm their queen. I'm almost an archmage. And yet when the guardians who pledged their lives to me needed me, I had nothing but basic first aid and a channeling attempt I was not in control of to offer."

Lavi's fingers twitched. Unconsciously, he curled his hands over his forearms, trailing where he knew the cracks in his flesh must be. He knew what she thought about who deserved the crown between them. But as he watched her struggle with her own expectations for herself and the guilt of whatever had gotten them into this, he knew she was the better of them. 

It wasn’t a secret to Lavi that she liked Arcanus. Loved him, even, in a sort of pining adolescent way that hadn’t matured with the rest of her. Yet she had still taken every pain to try and save them all. Lavi knew for certain if it had been up to him, one of them would have died. At the very least, he would have thrown his own life away for Arcanus, the crown and clan be damned.

The distance between them was suddenly unbearable. He rose from the chair, sat carefully on her bed, and took her hand.

She snatched it away from him. "What are you doing?!" she demanded in a half-sob. "You're Arcane--don't touch me! Dont--!"

He laid his palm carefully on her head. "It's okay."  

Her eyes went wide. She gingerly pressed her fingers against the soft muscle of his thumb, and found none of the strange tingling warmth of siphoned arcane element filled her numb fingers. "How...?"

"Ashes said my magic was locked, remember? I just thought...even white celestine might now be able to move it."

"You didn't know that!" she scolded, feebly beating his forearms with his fists. "You could have died!"

"I just did whatever risky half-formed idea came to my mind," he said, echoing her own words gently back to her and opening his arms. "Because you needed me."

Rebis shook her head incredulously and half-laughed. All this time, she'd been calling him the responsible one, and it turned out he was a fool who'd risk his life just to give his sister a hug.

She pulled herself gratefully into his arms, rested her head against his shoulder, and wept out the disjointed memories of her long, terrible morning.

#C: Rebis #c: invigilavi #C: Heaven #Flight Rising #Zodiac Goetia

[spiteweaver]

previous | next

“You’re certain it can’t wait?”

Phantasos looked to Ozymandias, who shook his head. “Positive.”

“Well--” Sighing, Dreamweaver dropped the boxes of scrolls they’d been carrying on the front stoop, then turned to give the pair their full attention-- “best get on with it, boys. This is an inconvenient time for another catastrophe.”

“It’s not a catastrophe,” Phantasos said.

“Yet,” Ozymandias added.

Phantasos looked like he wanted to cuff Ozymandias ‘round the ears, but thought better of it, settling instead for a withering glance. “Ozy's noticed an unusual presence in Aphaster,” he went on, “and thought you ought to know about it.”

“I don’t mean to be rude,” said Dreamweaver, “but that’s par for the course for both our clan and theirs.” They motioned to the three of them with raised brows. “Exhibits A, B, and C.”

“It isn’t Other,” Ozymandias said, “but it is like no being I have ever met. I’ve yet to catch a glimpse of it. It keeps close to the boy, ah...”

“Invigilavi?”

Ozymandias cursed under his breath. “I can never remember their names...”

“If there’s something weird interested in Lavi,” Phantasos persisted, “we should look into it. I don’t doubt that he and Rebis are capable, but they’re still learning. They need a catastrophe about as much as we do.”

“Dede!”

Morpheus’ cry carried across the busy square, high and shrill with panic. Even before they reached them, red-faced and panting, the trio could see that they were distressed. Had they not been running so hard, they would have been in tears, and collapsed into a shuddering heap the moment Dreamweaver’s arms closed around them.

“We’ll discuss this later,” Dreamweaver said to Phantasos, who gave a stiff nod and knelt at his sibling’s side.

“Hey, Morph,” he said, “what’s up? Where’s Pho?”

“S-s-something’s w-w-wrong with th-th-them!” Morpheus sobbed.

Neither Dreamweaver nor Phantasos wasted time seeking clarification. Phantasos started off in the direction Morpheus had come from at once, with Ozymandias hot on his heels, while Dreamweaver called for Banrai.

Their husband’s head appeared out of one of the upstairs windows. “What’s happened?” he asked. When he caught sight of Morpheus weeping in Dreamweaver’s arms, he added, “Don’t tell me Phobetor’s been picking on Morpheus again.”

“No,” Dreamweaver replied, “something’s wrong with Phobetor.”

It wasn’t hard to guess what Morpheus meant by “wrong.” Phantasos arrived to chaos at the south gate. A group had gathered and were attempting to intervene, but no one dared draw too near. There was blood on the air, and a pitiful whimpering from somewhere in the crowd.

It wasn’t Phobetor’s voice.

“Move!” Phantasos shouted. “If you aren’t going to help me, then get out of my way!”

“You heard the boy,” Ozymandias said, “step aside, or be tossed.”

“Phantasos!” A wild head of pink hair appeared above the throng. Phantasos made for it, nudging aside his stunned clanmates until he could grasp Sirius’ outstretched hand. “Phantasos,” Sirius gasped, “I tried to stop them--t-to pull them off, but--”

“What happened?” Phantasos asked.

“One of the older fledglings called Morpheus--” Sirius cast his gaze down. “He called them something nasty. Next thing we knew, Phobetor was on him.”

“Oh hell!”

By now, Ozymandias had cleared a path for them, and Phantasos charged ahead into the fray. Phobetor’s knuckles were caked in blood, but they showed no signs of slowing. The fledgling beneath them was barely conscious; he’d had the sense to cover his face, though it would offer little resistance against a dragon of Phobetor’s ilk. It wouldn’t be long before Phobetor found their mark.

“You--” Slam. “--stupid--” Crack. “--bastard!”

The sound of bone shattering spurred Phantasos back into action. Steeling himself for the worst, he rolled up his sleeves, looped his arms under Phobetor’s, and pulled. His sibling came up easily, as he was older and stronger than them, but their fists continued to flail wildly, their eyes never leaving their target.

“I’ll teach you a lesson!” they screamed. “I’ll make you pay!”

“Phobetor!” Phantasos hauled them backwards, reaching up to cover their eyes as he did so. This seemed to calm them, or perhaps they had merely exhausted themself. “Phobetor,” Phantasos said again, “can you hear me?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you remember what happened?”

“...Yeah.”

“Good.” Phantasos looked to Ozymandias, and then to the injured fledgling, writhing in a pool of his own blood. “Get him to Isaiah,” he ordered, “I’ll take care of things here until da and dede arrive.”

“He called Morpheus...” Phobetor’s voice was lost in the thunderous rush of Ozymandias’ take off, but Phantasos felt their fingers grasping at his sleeves. Their breathing had grown ragged again, their teeth clenched hard enough to groan. “He called Morpheus a half-breed.”

“Easy,” Phantasos soothed, “don’t get yourself riled up again. Pho, you can’t beat someone ‘cause they called you a name.”

“He didn’t call me anything,” Phobetor said. “He called Morpheus a half-breed.”

“Excuse us. Sorry, it’s an emergency.”

Phantasos was relieved to feel his father’s hand close around his shoulder, and then Dreamweaver’s palm against his cheek. He leaned into it as they stroked his face. “Are you all right?” they asked.

“Fine,” Phantasos replied, “it’s not our blood.”

“Oh goodness.”

“He called Morpheus a half-breed!” Phobetor wrenched themself free of their brother’s grasp, so that they could look Dreamweaver in the eye. “He deserved what he got! He insulted Morpheus, he insulted Phantasos, and he insulted you! He thinks your blood is dirty, dede!”

“Be still,” Dreamweaver commanded. The sternness of their tone ensured Phobetor’s compliance, and they bowed their head low. “Phobetor, cruel words are to be dealt with diplomatically, not with violence.”

“But--”

“You did nothing but prove his point,” Dreamweaver continued. “You became the beast he thinks we are.”

“He’s a bully!” Phobetor insisted.

“Now you’re a worse one.”

“Dreamy...” Banrai touched his mate’s arm gently, and the anger drained from their face. Phobetor’s eyes were full of frustrated tears. Banrai moved to wipe them away, but Phobetor turned their head. “Standing up to bullies is admirable,” Banrai said, “but there’s a right way to do it, and there’s a wrong way to do it.”

“Yes,” Dreamweaver agreed, “that’s what I was trying to get at.”

“I know,” Phobetor mumbled, “but I was just so...”

“Dede,” Phantasos said, noting the slight furrow of Dreamweaver’s brow, “what are you thinking?”

“What did it feel like, Phobetor?” Dreamweaver asked. “Do you remember what you felt when he called Morpheus that word?”

“Um...” Phobetor rubbed their face with the heels of their hands, the only clean parts left with which to dry their tears. “I’ve never been so mad,” they replied. “I hated him. All I could think about was hurting him.” Suddenly, they looked up, their eyes wide. “I wanted to kill him, dede.”

“Phantasos--” Dreamweaver met their eldest son’s gaze, and Phantasos felt something heavy drop into his gut-- “did you notice anything odd about them when you arrived?”

“It’s that, isn’t it?”

“What did you see?”

Phantasos bit his lip, rolled his shoulders, looked anywhere but at his dede. His insides felt like molten metal, sloughing out of a forge, only to miss its mark and fall impotently to the ground. He brought a hand to his lips. His fingers were red. He couldn’t stop staring.

“It was black...” Morpheus shuffled to Dreamweaver’s side, but shied away behind their progenitor when Phobetor’s eyes fell on them. “It was black like smoke,” they murmured, “and I could hear it saying things in Pho’s voice. Pho didn’t want to hurt him; it was the other Pho.”

“No,” Phobetor said, “it was me. Don’t make up stories to keep me out of trouble.”

“You’re both right.” Dreamweaver stood, pulling Phobetor up and into their arms. Morpheus clung to their robes as they strode forward. “Come,” they said, “I have something to tell you both.”

@nostlenne​ @sophiellum-fr @serthis-archivist @airris-fr @jaxxem @reanimatedfr @jollyroger-fr @megane-pigeon @griminal-rising​ @windkissesfr​

#flight rising #fr #zach writes #clan feldspar #feldspar lore #c: phobetor #c: morpheus #c: phantasos #c: dreamweaver #c: banrai

[shardclan]

“I thought humans were just a myth…” Rebis mused. “No offense to you, of course.”

Ashlesha smiled absently and continued to flip through the latest in a pile of books he had taken from the library. “None taken. Our history rose and fell millennia before yours ever began.”

“Many millennia,” Arcanus rumbled. “Which makes it that much harder to believe you are what you say you are now.”

“That’s not really my problem, is it?”

“It is if you insist on remaining at Imperator Invigilavi’s side.”

“You’re welcome try and move me.” The words were spoken mildly, as matter-of-fact as if he’d commented on the weather. He glanced up over the edge of his book. “I don’t recommend it though.”

Invigilavi clenched his jaw, and shot Arcanus what he hoped was a placating look. “It’s fine.”

“It is no such thing,” said Arcanus. “And I believe you’ll find the Lady Judge agrees.”

Azricai raised a brow, but remained relaxed in her chair rubbing at the unfamiliar grooves of her new cane. She had listened to Lavi’s account of meeting Ashlesha while gently trying to feel him out, but he was beyond her. She could sense a density of presence that seemed impossible for a being so small, but his mind and heart were not on the right frequency for her to hear.

“You would believe wrong,” she said finally. “If the Imperator received a premonition, it would have only come from a witch. And an ally who can locate and identify the released spirits of the circle is indispensable.”

“The willingness to quietly yield for witch business has led us astray in the past,” Arcanus stressed. “They do not know each other’s affairs, if they do they don’t necessarily meddle, and there is no assurance of benevolent cause.”

Rebis glanced between the members of her inner court and the desperate face of her brother Imperator. His strange affinity for Lavi aside, Ashlesha didn’t give her any particular feelings of ill will. She was personally inclined to side with Azricai, but she had all of the clan to consider.

“Kiele was appointed as Coven Intermediary for this reason,” she said. “We will conduct an inquiry.”

“And in the mean time?”

“He…” Her fins fluttered. She made the effort to hold her head high. “He should be subject to the same probationary period as any other.”

“And what does that mean for me?” asked Ashlesha.

“It means you will be detained away from Aphaster proper,” Arcanus explained. “Until such time as you are cleared.”

“And away from Lavi as well?”

“If dozens of millennia of sleep did not harm you, you should be able to bear a few days mild inconvenience.”

Ashlesha ignored the mild jab and paused thoughtfully on a page. It was covered in detailed notes surrounding a meticulous sketch of some old relief believed to be of proto-beastclans. It had been a long time since he had seen account so lovingly taken, and so incredibly wrong.

He slammed the book shut and smiled up at Arcanus with barely contained irritation. “You know, I was rudely awakened by an asshole astral with delusions of grandeur at the end of a chain of events set in place by the  on your throne, and yet I have kindly offered my help in correcting your mistakes with only the price of Lavi’s companionship. I’m being very good to you, and you’re kind of shitting on my good graces, and it’s really starting to piss me off.”

Rebis clenched her fists, but her frills drooped. She had suffered dozens of little glances, especially from those who knew the last queen, that more or less implied what Ashlesha had dared to say aloud. Plenty of things came to her mind, but she stared at him in silence. She couldn’t think of a response that wouldn’t sound childish. All she could do was hold out her hand to stay both Rubranova and Arcanus, who were bristling to defend her.

“Don’t… He’s right.”

“Like hell!” Lavi snarled. He stood and loomed over Ashlesha, his blood rushing. His normally mild temper was nearly overcome by the urge to slam Ashlesha’s frail body into the floor. He spoke slowly, fighting with ever word to control the white hot flare in his chest. “This is my Home, that is my Sister, and I am Imperator. If you claim to be with me, you will show her and all members of this court their proper respect, which includes following its laws. If that’s too much for you, leave.”

Ashlesha peered at Lavi, his eyes wide and uncertain. “You would pursue the astrals without me?”

“I had every intention to do it without you before you appeared. I don’t need you.”

“But what about the word of your witch?” Ashlesha pressed frantically. “You would ignore it?”

“They temper my decisions; they do not make them for me.”

In the brief disbelieving silence, the only sound was Invigilavi’s tail lashing at the floor. Ashesha’s confusion gave way to a flash of desperate fear. He seemed on the verge of shouting, but he quietly hung his head.

“Fine,” he muttered.

“Fine what?”

“Fine, I’ll do the stupid probation.”

“And your queen?”

Ashlesha grimaced. He had barely cared for the figures in power in his time. Even at Lavi’s request, he wasn’t in a hurry to swear anything to a queen whose age compared to his had to be measured in decimals and who nearly cried because he had–maybe just a bit rashly–essentially called her a baby.

“Alright, alright!” he yielded. “But I have a request first.”

“I’m not feeling especially giving with you right now.”

“I noticed.” He plucked absently at his hair, his eyes softening with contrition even as he looked anywhere but at Lavi. “I’m sorry. I’ll do as you ask, I promise.” It was only then he turned his eyes up. “Please…?”

Lavi wavered. Not because he felt pity, but because Ashlesha’s gaze was so innocently seeking both his forgiveness and his permission despite his tantrum only moments ago. Something about it left Lavi itchy and unsettled. There was something so familiar and yet so alien about the man, and it wasn’t clear whether it was his personality or his humanity that made him that way.

“What do you want?,” he sighed.

“It’s technically two things,” Ashlesha admitted sheepishly. “I’d like to meet the witch who told you that you’d meet me.”

Lavi looked to Rebis, who in turn looked to Arcanus and Azricai. “Is that a realistic request? I understood Faded was…atypical even by witch standards.”

“They are,” both answered in tense unison. Azricai continued: “But if they feel they should be present, they will come.”

“And the second request?” Lavi asked.

“That.” Ashlesha pointed to a shiny chain of onyx draped around Lavi’s massive shoulders. It was the only piece of genuine finery he wore. “Can I have it?”

Lavi reflexively covered the black chain. “This was a gift!”

“From who? …Someone you like?”

“What? No! It’s a favor from Bramble Step.”

Ashlesha squinted. “That place with the whores? Well…you’re a young man…dragon, I suppose… Really, often enough to have a favor though…”

“Lavi just give it to him,” Rebis blurted, blushing furiously under her veil.  "I don’t want to hear this!“

Ashlesha smiled smugly and held out his hand. "We have to obey our queen, right~?”

Invigilavi clenched his eyes and ran a hand from his horns to his beard. “I will be wanting it back. Undamaged.”

“Oh of course. It’s not like I’ll need it anymore once I’m with you again.” He gratefully closed his hands around it, swirling a finger tenderly against the smooth pearl clasps. “And whatever it is, its important to you. I wouldn’t ever let it come to harm.”

“I hope you’ll take a similar attitude toward the people important to me.”

Ashlesha glanced aside to the other inhabitants of the hall as though he had entirely forgotten they were there, and was well on his way to forgetting they existed. He looked back at Lavi, and made a tight, crooked smile. “I promise…to try.”

The warm alabaster, plentiful light, and extremely comfortable bed almost let Ashlesha forget he was imprisoned. The aggressive hum of a dozen wards, not so much. But he obediently sat on his bed, content to close his eyes and run his fingers along the spool of onyx and its dotting of pearls. There was no thought in his mind of Kiele, who had come and gone, or of Omen, who had peered at him–and into him and through him–and had seen something which she curiously chose not to mention.

A familiar presence stirred him and he opened his eyes. “I should have known.”

Faded stepped into the light, in a humble glamour that they had never once used among the clan. Their pelt still covered their head and obscured whatever they might have looked like beneath. Their voice was as crypt-cold as ever, but there was an edge to it where the usual sweet sing-song was. “You should have, yes. But you always were lacking in critical thinking skills.”

“Oh, don’t be so unfair. How was I to know that  'Faded’ was you? I believe what they were calling you back then was… what was it again…The Speaker? All that recognition… Becoming a major part of history must have blitzed you out of existence for a while.”

“Perhaps… But you slept through all of the Third Age and so far into the Fourth that the gods are growing restless and starting to tamper again. All that time, and you still only know me by one name I wore briefly in the Second Age? ” Their already wide mouth spread into a toothy, face-splitting grin and they giggled icily. “Idiot.”

“That’s quite a mouthful. I happen to think Speaker is the perfect name for you.” Ashlesha smirked up from under his long lashes. “Since you can’t actually do anything to me except talk my ear off.”

The smiles of the two were as different as the sun and moon, and between them the wards cracked and melted, wailing as they were crushed into nothingness between the two vast entities.

“You really don’t have two thoughts to rub together for warmth, do you?” Faded sighed. “You went to sleep because you hated your nature and you got wrapped up with fair folk and couldn’t bear it. Are you ready to take on dragons too?”

Ashlesha’s smile cracked. “I won’t. I don’t have to. I’m not compatible with them–they’re dragons. And even if not, I’m only interested in Lavi. Not like I can knock him up.”

“Mmhm… Despite it all, you have my pity. A restless existence who will never come to me… So I leave a bit of advice, for the child who is rich in knowledge and poor in imagination.” Faded began to withdraw, vanishing from the feet up like a mirage dissipating. “You should give some thought to why your form is male, and why you cling to the boy the way you do.”

“And you should go back to your graveyard and mind your goddamn business.”

Faded’s laugh echoed, though they were no longer there. “Idiot.”

@boyonetta

#Flight Rising #C: Faded #C: Ashlesha #C: Rebis #C: Invigilavi #The Zodiac Era #zodiac goetia

[shardclan]

A draft stirred the Imperator from sleep, and he sat up immediately when he realized he was alone in his bed. Ashlesha was content to nap on his perch, but had a cat-like habit of curling up atop Lavi’s covers in the gray hours before dawn. This morning he stood outside the thrown-open doors, surrounded by the falling snow.

With twitching frills, Lavi swung himself out of bed and cautiously tip-toed toward the threshold. The snow was falling more thickly than he thought, in heavy, obscuring puffs that piled up like feathers on the pink-hued mountainside. It seemed the closer he got to the door, the brighter it was. He had been certain it was dawn from the bed, but at the threshold it looked like it was midday light diffusing through the white clouds.

He hesitated. His tailed swayed and jerked with nerves too freshly awakened to be tempered by what little sense his mind was trying to enforce on the situation. So light was the snow that even his heavy step caused barely a whisper, more like the shuffling of fine sand than the crunch of ice.

Ashlesha threw his hand out, signalling Lavi to come no closer, and Lavi quickly drew back inside the door. “What’s going on?” he whispered.

Ashlesha held his palms, letting snow pile into them even as it stubbornly refused to land in his hair or on his robes. “Temporal storm. The whole mountain is…” He tilted his head, as if to listen to the sky. “I think in the future right now.”

Lavi sighed, and his whole body sagged as he finally relaxed. “Is that all. The way you were acting I thought there was something really wrong.”

“Oh, there is. Or there will be, I guess.”  He gestured down the mountain, and held out his free hand to Lavi. In a storm like this, it was not a matter of flirtation. Ashlesha seemed perfectly grounded, but Lavi could be blown out of sync by a strong gust. “Down there.”

With Lavi unable to fly, his personal lair was on one of the lower cliffs. Short enough for him to survive if he had to make a leap, high enough that no one could just barge in on a whim. It wasn’t hard to make out the strange bodies littered around at the southern shoal, staining the pink sands dark red.

“They’re all dead,” Ashlesha explained. “Wind dragons I think. Them and dozens of longnecks.”

“But who are they?” Lavi’s fist tightened around Ashlesha’s hand. “ Why would they have come here? Why would…”

Lavi squinted and swallowed before he dared to assume, but he recognized the arrows sticking out of the back of a longneck. Their heads and fletchings were smooth and menacing as the fin of an orca rising from the ocean. It was a distinct design hand-made by one of the mercenaries. One who called herself ‘the Sharkmaiden’. Given how many of the bodies had clearly been shot in the back and fallen forward toward the mountain, her claim that they were made to be fired from under shoreline waves was deadly serious.

“Why did we kill them?” he finally rasped.

“Why 'will’ we kill them,” Ashlesha corrected impassively. “It hasn’t happened yet. It’s just the storm.”

Lavi tugged at his beard. There were records of a previous ruler who used temporal storms as a sort of future sight to be ahead of trends in the local economy. It didn’t always work, these futures weren’t set in stone, but sometimes if she got a hold of just the right triggering event she could ride atop the waves of causality.

“You said you can find any magic you’ve encountered. If you gather up some samples from down there, will you be able to find them?”

Ashlesha rolled his jaw thoughtfully side to side, and answered slowly. “Yes… But it might have to wait until the storm passes for me to find the uh…living sources.”

“That’s fine. Go, before it lets up.”

No sooner had Ashlesha dropped down into the snow than he had already turned back. His expression was dour, and he folded his arms tightly into his robes. He took one look at Lavi’s confused expression, and sighed irritably. “No need for a sample. I can feel an astral’s energy all over them. I don’t know what made them come here, but whoever they are, they’ve been exposed to Katasomata’s influence.”

Lavi’s jaw clenched. “Give me your hand. We need to speak with Khatan and get word out to the Smoke Gyre.”

The blind tundra and his mate were not happy to see the imperator. In a storm like this, it was best to sleep and pray that you would return to the time you came from when it was over.

Khatan’s nose wrinkled as he listened to Invigilavi’s telling. His eyes had been destroyed by some accident in his youth, but in exchange he saw the courses of time as they came and went with the storms. “A wrong decision brought that event to pass.”

“One that I made,” Lavi guessed tightly.

“Indeed. I take it you wish to avert their deaths, or you would not have barged in so urgently in this weather.” He lazed back among the pelts and deep furs that lined the den, and stroked thoughtfully at his mane. His eyes rolled rapidly behind his blindfold. “You are well suited to preventing this future. All you need to do is choose the right company.”

Lavi waited, but Khatan said no more. He looked seekingly to the other tundra, Aishling, but he shook his head and busily stoked a small flame under a pot full of dark and aromatic brew.

“Do not ask for more,” he said distractedly. “Khatan is not a seer, and it costs him to look into the storms and see the great web of things that might be. Be on your way, please.”

Outside, Ashlesha took Lavi’s hand even as the guardian stood in a trance of thought. “You’re not thinking of going to see those loonies are you?”

“I am.” The look he gave Ashlesha could have sent an entire nursery of mirror pups scurrying to bed. “And you are not coming.”

“Lavi–!”

“Not up for discussion. The goal is to get the astrals back to the right plane, not to go to war.”

“Please,” Ashlesha scoffed, the stars inside his robe flaring with dangerous light. “There wouldn’t be a war if you called on me.”

“And that’s why you will stay here. We will get this sorted using reason, not murder.”

Hours later, under a clear sky, Invigilavi paced in front of the Starwood Portal while a ridgeback lounged on the shore, well away from the high concentration of Arcane magic. He was eager for help to come, but his mind was preoccupied with what needed to happen after it did.

With whether or not the right decision was being made.  

Ashlesha more or less knew where the astral was, and the Smoke Gyre knew the area well enough to know where to begin an information gathering run for a large group of longnecks living peacefully with dragons. Finding them wasn’t the problem. It was how to approach them.

They were clearly hostile, or would become hostile if Lavi wasn’t careful. He had already talked himself out of involving any of the Focal Point longnecks. They had been among the clan’s first beastclan allies and had stayed so since the days of Clan Shard. They might very well have been valuable allies on this mission, but the last thing he wanted was to bring them into conflict and potentially get one of them killed.

The goal was to get the astrals back to their rightful plane. Not to kill others, or even be at odds with them. He was willing to go see this clan personally if it would solve things peacefully(as much as Ashlesha didn’t approve and outright hated that he had been forced to stay behind even if it was precisely because of the combination of his excessive protectiveness of Lavi and his nonchalance about the lives of other people, which could not have been a worse choice given the circumstances).

Of course, Lavi had not spent all of his youth paranoid just to grow up into the kind of drake that took stupid risks. Someone had to come with him. But knowing that and knowing who should be at his side were two entirely different matters. So he had sent word to the one person he trusted to know.

The portal hummed, and the end of a long, sturdy cane poked through. Lavi was quick to offer his arm to the slender yet imposing figured that followed.

“I didn’t think you’d come personally,” he remarked with amazement.

Azricai breathed deep of the Arcane air. The last time she had been in the Isles, it was to watch two of the most important people in her life pass beyond the Obervatory gates into exaltation. But the Isles were still where she grew up, and the old, nostalgic scent of magic and sea salt left her eyes and heart clear.

“I became the Lady Judge after many eons as Head Mediator,” she reminded, allowing herself to lean on Lavi’s outstretched hand. “And this situation sounds like it requires very attentive mediation.”

Lavi crouched subconsciously; though he wasn’t a child anymore it disturbed him to look down at her. “I appreciate having a skydancer, especially you, come with me, but are you sure? I’m not much of a fighter and your leg…”

“Are you worried for me because of this old wound or because I raised you?” Her antenna lifted and filled with his warmth and genuine concern even as his fins twisted in embarrassment. But as much as she wanted to, she couldn’t soften to him. “You are my heart’s blood, Invigilavi. But we are servants right now, of our queen and clan, and of the single purpose of restoring the Circle.”

It would have been a lie to say her words didn’t hurt. But that focus on giving all that she was to her clan was very much how he remembered her. He easily lifted her onto his shoulder to make for the ridgeback. “Maleficent will fly us to the trading post close to our destination, since I can’t. We’ll meet the Gyre there and hear his report. Based on what he says…we can decide the best approach.”

Azircai’s antennae swayed. She looked down at Lavi with gentle, apologetic eyes, but she bit her tongue against any indiscretion. There would be time later for him to be her son.

The wind off the Windchime Flats was bitter. The change in the vortex had brought ash from the fire territories into the usually crisp and clean air. In true wind dragon fashion, the merchants didn’t look much bothered by it. If anything, they seemed quite merry under their umbrellas.

“Don’t interact with the merchants too much,” Lavi warned Maleficent in hushed tones. “One of the wind astrals is also supposed to be in this area and they like to mimic the local culture.”

The shadowborn ridgeback squinted her sole eye suspiciously over the bazaar and nodded. “I think I’ll make my way a bit further east into Ashfall proper if you don’t mind.”

“Please,” said Azricai. “The Gyre will find you when and if we need you.”

They made their way to the local crossroads, where the Gyre awaited them. In the open and curious lands of the Windsinger, the wildclaw had abandoned all pretense of invisibility or camoglage and gone for blending in with the crowd. He could have been anyone at all as he chewed on a skewer of some local cuisine and lounged with his nose in a book.

“Longneck Reach,” he said over a mouthful, as if he was reading aloud. “Up on the Zephyr Steppes. Stunning view, peaceful beastclans, fascinating cave system. Ragtag bunch of everybodies all thrown together into one very protective lair living side by side with the local Longnecks.” He smiled up at Azricai. “Not unlike a certain clan of Arcanites back in the day.”

“Common experience makes good mediation,” Azricai mused hopefully. “Were you able to make contact?”

“More or less. I put up some new posters about the astrals. There was a mirror. Female. Face like I’d taken a crap on her favorite bamboo stalk.”  He took another bite from his skewer and lazily flipped a page. “When I remarked on the wind astral in the area, it got quite a rise out of her hackles, yet she muttered something quite dismissive. Disproportionately dismissive, you might say. I thought it better to not push the subject.”

Azricai and Lavi shared a look.

“We’re going to meet with them. Peacefully.”

The Smoke Gyre looked up at them both, and with a shake of his head went back to his book. “As you ask. For the clan’s sake, come back safe.”

#Zodiac Response #C: Ashlesha #c: invigilavi #C: Azricai #zodiac goetia

[shardclan]

The lonesome monolith of Horizon's Landing loomed so far out on the western edges of the crystalspines that on a clear night one could convince themselves they saw the Beacon winking from across the bleak expanse of the Greater Ocean. It was also close enough to the border with the Southern Icefield that even the unimpressive heights of its peak were capped in thick snow. The Pact Site was a mere skip northwest across a floe-clogged strait to a neighboring crystalpine ridge. Despite the absence of the Seat and the inert Circle, massive celestine pillars reached into the sky like glittering finger bones.

With the coming rising of the shadow and ice elements, glaciers were high and local sea levels were low. Jutting remains of maren architecture had breached the water's surface. So had dozens of shoal complexes covered in salt and seaweed and tide-smoothed pebbles of glowing crystal that were as lovely as the lure of any anglerfish.

Luckily, there were no fools or fledglings to lure that far from the mainland.

Lavi stared at the rough hewn dens bored into the mountain. Even though House Betelgeuse was made from the same material, Horizon's Landing had none of the warmth. The House was a place where families lived and thrived. The Landing was a refuge where the dens were filled with strangers who knew nothing and cared nothing for Aphaster or its histories or ideals. They were hunters and assassins drawn in by either money or interest in the unusual prey the astrals would promise. Once that prey was gone, they would move on. As a result, the Landing didn't feel like any place that Lavi knew. It reminded him of his elders instead--Hart in his cloak and pelts, Safiri in her thick furs, Lutia in her leather bindings. Wild ones with fangs that they never forgot no matter how peaceful or civilized things got.

Astrit was more familiar with rogues and mercenaries and the subtle but constant threat of violence that followed them around. He had settled into the mountain's base without a care. Along with him, a few other choice representatives of Bramble Step brought drink and music and their maybe-fatal kind of fun. Though they were far from a homey presence, their unabashed bawdiness and insistence on a certain kind of atmosphere kept the sharp and dangerous auras of the inhabitants from blanketing the island with hostile silence.

"You're frowning, Lavi." Warmth that had already become too familiar pressed against his forearm. "Something bothering you?"

"I was thinking it was probably best that Rebis saw us off at the portal."

"Oh." He tip-toed away from Lavi's side just as quietly as he had come. "I suppose this place hasn't been kind for her."

"Nor for me," Lavi sighed. "But I meant more that I'm glad we didn't waste a good wine on the side of this mountain. There's nothing worth celebrating here. It's an outpost. A queen shouldn't be in such a place."

"I think I see a whale! Come look!"

Invigilavi's fins twisted. He turned from the mountain to find his companion out on the shoal, bent over at the water's edge. "You're not listening to me at all."

"I'm always listening to you," Ashlesha insisted with a pout. "But you said it yourself: the queen didn't come here and no wine was wasted on celebrating this rock. What is there to dwell on?"

"I suppose I'm... I just--" Lavi clenched his jaw as heat rushed from his chin to his horns. Making him feel like he was overthinking everything was Ashlesha's most infuriating talent. And the one Lavi could least reproach him for.

"I'm trying to cope with the fact that I have to live here," he admitted tightly.

Ashlesha lowered his eyes, and pulled his robe close around him. "You have me..."

"It's not about you," Lavi snapped. "Just because you're so attached to me doesn't mean I know you or that you bring me any comfort."

"I know."

The unexpected solemness of Ashlesha's voice caught Lavi off guard. He had been struggling to find a rhythm or some kind of predictability with Ashlesha since the day they met, but he had gotten too involved far too quickly and had such incomprehensible changes of mood that Lavi couldn't help feeling physically dizzy, like he was tumbling in the dark every time Ashlesha's careless personality gave way and he was suddenly faced with depths he didn't know how to process.

Cool hands touched his chest. The shock grounded him there on the shore and stopped his head spinning.

Ashlesha was on the very tips of his toes and was still too small to meet Lavi's half-shift face-to-face, but he seemed content enough to look up into his eyes. "I haven't known you long enough to be anyone to you, Lavi. I have no delusions otherwise. But so long as I am with you, you don't need to fear anything. Not astrals, or emperors, or the Shade. Not even the gods."

The spines along Lavi's neck stood. Gingerly, he pressed his palms against Ashlesha's shoulders until there was a much more reasonable distance between them. "I wish you wouldn't say things like that."

"I mean it."

"It wouldn't be so terrifying if you didn't."

"Well it's not like I can replace your family," he mumbled. He wandered distractedly back to the shoal, and slouched down onto his heels at the water's edge. "I could make this place worthy of you easy...but a king's mansion isn't worth anything when all you want is the house you grew up in."

A wash of deja vu passed gently over Inviglavi. He hadn't been able to appreciate just how Ashlesha looked sitting by himself in the moonlight when he first laid eyes on him.  A lot had been on his mind at the time--and a lot more since. But if everything was true in spite of Faded's warning and Ashlesha was human, he was hundreds of thousands of years estranged from everything he had ever known.

"That's... surprisingly reasonable of you to say."

"Don't be mean, I'm trying."

"I was praising you," Lavi pointed out gently.

"Really...?" Ashlesha quickly turned his attention back to the sea, but failed to hide his grin or contain his telltale hair-fidgeting. "O-oh! Uhm! The whale is still down there I think! You're missing it!"

"I'll pass. Even you being out there is making me nervous. Come on, let's go back inland."

Ashlesha giggled and made a show of fluttering his lashes. "Are you worried about me, Lavi~?"

"Ashlesha, you know how the water is in the Isles. Especially this close to the Icefield."

"Hey... I told you, you don't have to fear anything." The unfamiliar light that shone from deep inside Ashlesha's otherwise green eyes brightened, and he held out his hand. "Come here. See the places even your Archmage doesn't dare to look."

Lavi glanced at the water, and felt his heart drum out a warning.

He wasn't a mage of any import. His magic capacity was above average but not particularly impressive, and his physical ability to fight was negligible at best. Insight was his primary talent. His limits, his weaknesses, what was and wasn't within his power to do--his overactive drive for self-preservation had always kept those things at the forefront of his mind. But now there was Ashlesha courting his curiosity off its leash. All while smiling in that careless, endlessly confident way that left the impression that anything Sornieth could throw at him would prove as inconsequential as a speck of dust in the Windsinger's path.

Several halting steps later, Ashlesha's hand slid into Lavi's palm; tiny as a drop of water pooling in a leaf. With a wave, the crystals deep under the water came to life, filling the night-dark sea with light. A dozen schools of fish flickered and darted in confusion, and a paralyzing mass of shadow that refused to yield its true form to the light shifted sluggishly.

Strange tendrils moved around it, wriggling against the translucent crystal trapping it in place like worms seeking a path to the surface. They beat, disjointedly at first, and then with increasing unison, at their prison, until the force of the hundreds of tendrils bashing at the unyielding ice shook the should beneath their feet.

"That's not a whale," Lavi rasped over his suddenly dry tongue. He stepped back from the water as pebbles tumbled into the sea, lest he slip and follow them. "Let it go back to sleep."

"It was never asleep. Should it have been?" He saw the desperate, longing look Lavi was shooting at the shore, and squeezed Lavi's palm, comforting the rapid pulse they both felt there. "Does it frighten you?"

"I certainly would have slept better without knowing it was down there."

Lavi felt Ashlesha’s hand slip from his, and no sooner had he begun to trot back to shore than something made him stumble. His ears rang, and he squinted against an awful residual sensation he couldn't name. It was simultaneously a faint taste of rotten food in his mouth and the last uncomfortable needles of limbs that had fallen asleep.

At Lavi's feet, strange blood was washing up onto the shoal, viscous and shiny as tar.

Ashlesha was casually brushing down his robes, as white and untainted as pure moonlight atop the blackening waters. When he caught Lavi's expression, he raised his chin proudly and beamed.

"Now it’s no harm to anyone, and you can rest easy."

In Feldspar, Phantasos had Ozymandias, but Phantasos was also a barely fathomable entity with a deep well of power. In Aphaster, Queen Rebis was rapidly developing as a magic user who would inevitably attain the mantle Archmage. There were witches, warriors, godstouched; even a shaman in tune with the all-joining magics of the Pillar. 

Yet Ashlesha chose him. And Lavi had never felt so under-qualified.

#Flight Rising #Zodiac Goetia #C: Invigilavi #C: Ashlesha #In which Lavi sweats profusely

[shardclan]

Invigilavi jerked awake from a troubled sleep, his frills flared and eyes wide and darting. He was alone.

The wan light of a cloudy dawn filled the room with gray tones and pale shadows. The cold air settled on him and quickly bit deep into his scales. When he tried to relax his fists, a brittle crackling that wasn't his knuckles answered. Ice fell from his claws. He became aware of his breaths as visible puffs, and of wisps of steam rising from his chest and billowing out from under the thick pelt layers over his bed.

Something had been there. He was certain he heard a message from an unfamiliar voice. It had pierced his dreamless sleep, yet no matter how he tried he could not remember the whispered words.

All he had to go on was a distinct feeling that he needed to get up and go to the Isles before the morning sun made it to the Starwood Strand.

The portal was tamer than the last time Invigilavi had gone through it alone. There had been a lot of coming and going for Horizon's Landing, and the usually extremely hostile protective wards didn't deny him entry. While the sky was growing light in the the Sunbeam Ruins, it might as well have still been midnight in the Isles.

He drew his cloak tight around him. Even though the Chalcedony Circle was quiet and inert now, there was something unsettling about being there. It wasn't just the empty, abandoned feeling of the circle itself; the silence in the Isles was unnerving in a way that prodded at old, primal fears.

In the Hewn City, dragons walked quietly because there were things under that strange moon that were easily awakened from their death-like sleep. In the Starfall Isles, it was the opposite. Dragons walked quietly because unknown never slept, and was always watching.

Invigilavi wandered away from the circle, crossing the frigid sandbar to an adjacent crystalspine where Horizon's Landing was nearing completion thanks to another fine display of orogenesis from Moyo. The mainland wasn't far if he followed the island chain to Point Crystal Port, but nothing called to him there. Nothing that he wanted to hear, anyway. And he wasn't so pressed to chase whatever nagging sensation had called him there that he would go near the Starwood Strand. He would never see sunlight again if he went into the woods at that hour. His only other option was the forbidding Focal Point, with its crystalspine crags all curling inward like a chrysanthemum made of pink fangs, and the high slopes eerily twinkling with the glow of rising crystals and falling meteors.

He shivered. Every time he came to the Isles he was reminded of the first time he crept away to Bramble Step during the night. How the deep fog lit only by bright neon had been dazzling but charmless to him. The sweat that had prickled all over his body when Labrusca's voice shot out of the dark and pierced him like an arrow. She let him plead his case, and now he was older and familiar enough with her to know it hadn't been out of kindness or even because of Bramble Step's laws regarding Aphaster citizens. She just knew his presence was a secret that would be useful to keep. And being led into the anonymity of the dark had been a blissful and exhilarating respite in a time when he had felt his fate always looming over him without knowing exactly what it was.

But while Bramble Step became a place of calm for him after that first journey, the Isles sent his heart racing every time. Lutia had told him many stories of the Isles since he confided in her; of its wonder and its danger and how everything there was like the native blossom: unearthly and beautiful and fatal to anyone who wasn't careful when interacting with them. The Isles were chaotic and careless and the thumping in his chest always felt like it was betraying him to whoever or whatever was out there.

And yet he was charmed.

From the voiceless murmur in the back of his mind that told him the name of the maelstrom in Windstar Bay, to the thriving meadows of frost-coated winterbelle that glittered back at the stars in a conversation not meant for dragons--the Isles lured him in the way the neon lights in Bramble Step must have lured in shadowlings. He could be a king in the Isles and it still would not have mattered.

Zo was lucky, he thought. He was free from whatever made the Isles so attractive. He could live as no one without needing the dark or the stars.

Whatever had called him out here, it would have to call some other day when he wasn't in such a strange mood. And he didn’t want to brave a swim in the dark when he had been warned away from the waters between the crystalspines so many times. He turned back, but something on the cliffs above caught his eye, silhouetted against the moon.

His body swayed unsteadily, his head suddenly aching as he recalled a sickly sweet and deathly cold voice whispering into his sleeping mind.

Today you will meet a liar. Do not turn him away.

When he managed to unclench his eyes, he found frost on his claws and in his beard. His head whipped up, to make sure his target was still there. 

The sky was starting to gray.

Lavi clambered up in a breathless rush. He didn't consider stealth, or even safety--he climbed foot over claw as quickly as he could, scrambling to catch this liar important enough that one of the witches had deigned to advise him. It was only when he was close that the man showed any sign of disturbance. They saw each other, and shared a moment of mutual panic. The stranger shrugged himself deeper into his cloak and leaped from the cliff. Lavi was momentarily dazzled by the strange geometric pattern, and the odd way the sleeves spread and spread until they took the distinct shape of imperial wings. He remembered that he could no longer fly, and leaped after the stranger anyway, sinking his claws into the long, trailing tail of the garment.

The man yelped as the robe yanked backward. The vast imperial wings vanished, mere sleeves again in spite of the his futile attempts to flap and right himself. Lavi realized to his horror that the imperial could not fly without the robe. His glamour was tied to it somehow. Lavi yanked the man closer and held his delicate shape safe close to his chest.

The cold crystal of the mountain tore his cloak and scraped his armor so unmercifully that he felt it heat to burning against his back, and he could feel the crags tearing at his haunches and the base of his tail as they slid on shale and scrag, and bounced violently down the lower cliffs. They tumbled at the end, finally hitting a last stretch of open air only to crash into a stack of blackwoods pine beams set aside for augmenting Moyo's construction.

Lavi couldn't find the breath to groan, or the power to move. He could tell he was bruised and scraped and cut in a dozen places. He managed to twitch himself and felt a bolt of pain. The armor had dented inward and was prodding deep into his lower back. He managed to roll over, and sucked in breath greedily. He hadn't broken anything. Not anything permanent, at least.

In his arms, the stranger was practically unscathed, his moon-white cloak pristine despite the fall. His black and green mop of hair had some chalcedony and dirt in it, but the slim, brown body of his glamour was untouched. His expression was vaguely annoyed, but mostly his eyes were full of wonder. When Lavi looked closer at his face, he went red right to the tips of his ears.

"What's your name?" he blurted eagerly.

"Imperator," Lavi grumbled through a tight jaw as he tried to sit up. "This is my outpost, and you're trespassing. Who are you?"

"Oh! F-forgive me, my name is Ashlesha. I didn't mean to intrude!"

"What are you doing here?"

"Oh I just..." He turned, looking back up at the cliff they had tumbled from. "I woke up here a little while ago..."

"Woke up here," Lavi repeated skeptically. Ashlesha didn't feel like one of the astrals, but he didn't feel like an Outsider either. Yet there was something about him that made Lavi agitated. He had no antlers, nor any fins or frills or gene marks to signify his species or where he might have come from. And there was something too similar to what he had felt touching the circle for him to ignore. "Do you know the name Abankhit?"

Ashlesha snorted, and flipped his hair with a haughty disdain that could have come from Lightweaver herself. "Yeah I know him. He's the one who woke me up, even though I didn't ask. He can never leave well enough alone." He looked back at Lavi, and tucked his arms self-consciously into his cloak. "I'm not friends with him, is what I mean."

Lavi wilted, and Ashlesha was surprisingly quick to reach up and touch his nose. "Don't frown. You're better off not associating with him."

"I'm already associated with him," Lavi said, shaking off the over-familiar touch. "I accidentally released him. I released all 36 of them."

"So you're the reason he came and disturbed my peace," Ashlesha mulled with amusement. "Need me to find them for you?"

"What? You know where they are?"

"Mmm--" Ashlesha stood and squinted into the dark. Lavi noted that his shins were bare and he wasn't wearing any shoes despite the cold. And more pressingly, the inside of his cloak looked like the night sky, stars and all. "--kind of," he finally finished. "They're not all the way manifested yet. They're out there, but it's kind of muddy."

"But it will be clear to you when they manifest fully?"

"Oh, yes. I'd recognize those assholes anywhere." He clasped his hands behind his back, and grinned over at Lavi. "Want my help~?"

Lavi's fins flattened warily. "On what condition?"

Ashlesha looked away, and wound a finger busily around one of his locks. "Would you...tell me your real name?" He paused, and blushed furiously as the implications hit him."I-I just mean your normal name! The thing they call you, not your true name!"

Lavi's fins fell slowly. He couldn't get a read on Ashlesha, and it made him nervous. He seemed harmless, but everything he had said about himself and the casual way he spoke of the astrals suggested the exact opposite was true.

But he had been told not to turn Ashlesha away.

"Invigilavi,” he relented.  “...Lavi for short."

"A watchman's name; how interesting~" Ashlesha held his hand out. "You only have to ask, and I will do anything for you. So long as you keep me close."

Lavi grunted and gingerly reached out to take Ashlesha's hand. "Are you any good as a healer?"

"Oh! You did take quite the beating on the way down, didn't you? How air-headed of me."

Lavi watched Ashlesha lean down and plant a kiss on the back of his hand. He would have been embarrassed, if he had not immediately felt all his pain vanish. The armor was still pressing into his back, but the scrapes and bumps and cuts no longer stung. He felt better than he had when he had awakened earlier that morning.

"I'm as talented as I am knowledgeable," Ashlesha boasted merrily. "I hope this invites you to think of many ways to use me to your liking."

There again was that slightly uncomfortable turn of phrase. Ashlesha was a liar. But he was genuinely something strange and special too.

"What are you...?"

The inner light of a magical adept flickered in Ashlesha’s dark green eyes, and he gave a deeply self-satisfied smile as he pulled Lavi to his feet as though he weighed nothing at all.

"I'm a human."

#zodiac goetia #Flight rising #C: Invigilavi #C: Ashlesha #In which Faded comes into Lavi's house without knocking to prep him for the clan's newest and thirstiest disaster gay

[shardclan]

A Moment in the Summerlands

The granary serving both Aphaster and Feldspar is filling as the fields empty.

 Queen Rebis stands in the reaped remains, alone save the quiet presence of Nayvadius. Though she went there knowing that it was the same place her predecessor often stood, her mind is not on Telos. She looks at the easternmost grasslands dourly, knowing that they have been harvested early. Dragons and beastclans alike are preparing themselves for an early winter courtesy of the changed winds. The possibility of a food shortage is so likely that she considers it already a reality.

For the first time, she feels relief at the thought of a satellite clan that will diminish the capital's numbers. The promise she made with Lightweaver still burns, but the partial banishment of her attachments means fewer mouths to feed. There are comparisons to the rule of the Investor already reaching her ears. The climate change and the food storage it will bring is not an unknown, and the clan is braced for rationing, closed borders, and all manner of restrictions.

She worries that she is naive to think she will be able to winter their clan without doing anything drastic. Her upbringing was idyllic, her image of Aphaster idealized by a lack of conflict. She is grown enough now to understand that may not have been for the best.

She emits a quiet prayer to the high noon sun that her choices will be the right ones.

Arcanus sets down the Sunbeam Sentinel and closes his eyes. Across from him, he can feel Carnelian watching him.

He has already admitted that he toasted to Telos' departure with Gethsemene. That was supposed to be it. That was supposed to be enough. But Carnelian is not Gethsemene. While she and Arcanus were sure to grow closer from now on, she was tangential to all that had happened since Aphaster came to be, and to who Arcanus had become since then.

Carnelian is integral--an attachment that Arcanus gained that grew with him. He knew everything, and even though they have not seen each other for eons, Arcanus feels that Carnelian still knows even the most remote corners of his heart.

Carnelian would never actually prompt him to be honest, but the untouched cigar gently smoking in its tray, the unpoured liquor, and the carefully neutral expression are all glaring to Arcanus. Expressions of compassion from a difficult man.

Resentment stings him, and embarrassment on its heel. It's only a fleeting feeling, but he is angry that someone as opaque as Carnelian can see through him so easily. He has walked through Aphaster with his head high, his mission accomplished and promise kept, and yet Carnelian pierces through it without a word.

Arcanus lets out a sob with only the most passing attempt to restrain it.

He has missed Aphaster so much. He is so happy to be home.

But Telos is not there anymore.  

With as little sound as possible, Carnelian closes the blinds, and sits with him in the dark. The sound of the guardian's grief passes over him and fills his home as inescapably as rain.

"Telos would never have allowed it," Dantalion spits.

"Telos had to make other allowances," Heaven points out meekly. "They just...didn't affect us."

Heaven has never seen him so furious. Dantalion is within arms reach, holding tightly to himself and seething, and Heaven feels as though the Sea of a Thousand Currents is already between them.

"Our life is here," he grits. "Your family. Our family. You shouldn't have to leave just because of some ambiguous demand from Lightweaver!"

"Lion..." Heaven tries to soothe. "It's not ambiguous. I have to go because Rebis is attached to me."

"I'M ATTACHED TO YOU!" Dantalion explodes. 

The air between them buzzes, a rushing vibration that both can feel in their bones. Neither is sure if it is the unexpected anger, or his thick witch's blood calling something into their home.

"I'm attached to you," he forces himself to say more calmly, but he is trembling. "But everything else I'm attached to is here, Heaven. Everything you're attached to is here too. There's nothing for us in the Isles. Just a bunch of bad memories. A place where I fucked up and didn't recognize a dragon made to masquerade as a spirit, and a place where a bunch of our clanmates who are either dead or gone used to live."

Heaven swallows. The attempt nearly chokes him, but he manages to whisper, "I still have to go."

"I know," Dantalion admits wearily. He rubs at his eyes. "But I don't think I can go with you."

Lavi finds Carnelian standing at the door. He drops, holding onto his knees and wheezing as he tries to catch his breath.

"He's--he's here, right?"

Carnelian nods, but he is quick to throw a blocking arm in the way to prevent Lavi's passing. They meet eyes, and a spark of irritation jumps between them.

"I don't think he wants you to see him right now," Carnelian says with unusual patience. "Not like that."

"But you have seen him," Lavi shoots back. "In whatever state he's in. He came to you first."

"He came to a place where he doesn't have to deal with echoes of Telos first," he corrects with an arched brow. "I didn't think you were the jealous type."

"I just--" Lavi blusters, immediately ashamed of his cattiness. "I just want to see him... Please."

"Let me say it again, but so you can hear it: Your father wouldn't want his son to see the kind of grief he is dealing with right now."

It amazes Carnelian how easily diffused Lavi is by the acknowledgement that Arcanus considers him a son. Lavi is Imperator, and a half-feral that towers over the other glamours that the clan has accustomed itself to using, but he is also only a young drake who hasn't seen his father in half a cycle. Playing on that leaves a surprisingly sour taste in Carnelian's mouth.

"You come running to where he is every time," he offers peaceably. "One man to another, he needs that right now, but that's not something I can do."

Carnelian's strange softness jars some suppressed emotion loose in Lavi, to the older dragon's chagrin. "I was supposed to take care of things. I was supposed to have really good news for him, but--!"

"Gods, shut up before you piss me off. You're just like him; you'd do the right thing even if it killed you."

From inside, a muffled croak: "He means that you've done your best and shouldn't worry so much..."

The imperial and the guardian meet eyes again, and with a tired roll of his eyes, Carnelian opens his door and watches Invigilavi run in and leap into Arcanus' waiting arms.

Carnelian closes the door to leave them alone and wanders off into the fog of Bramble Step without a care. They need each other, and Arcanus knows the locks. They'll be fine.

The moment plays over and over, no matter how Azricai tries to get past it.

It was sad, but peaceful to watch Kea go. She had seemed a little confused that Azricai had specifically come to say goodbye to her. The remnants of Tawhiri respectfully parting, maybe? She took Azricai’s hand anyway.

Kea was warm. She was so, so warm.

"Azricai helped lift the stigma around you from your grandmother's exile."

The words were said coolly. Not blurted. Deliberate. Equinox' emotional geography was smooth and stone still beside Azricai. She had never seen it coming.

In her moments of clarity, Azricai knows it was a betrayal of her trust. But she also knows she would have done the same--she just had the benefit of so much practice that she would have picked a better time. She would never have let anyone feel the way she had in that moment. 

"She's been looking out for you since she joined the clan. You're the reason she became the Gale Wolf. She first learned how to be the person she is now with you, Kea." Equinox moving, letting Azricai go. She knew they couldn't remain together after that. "The Gale Wolf was created for you."

Kea had no reason to disbelieve Equinox, even though it was unbelievable. But if she had, Azricai's stumble would have given her away. The naked expression on her face. The way she yanked her hand back, covering her face as though she could somehow put her impenetrable persona back together by hand. The anxious horror of watching Kea piece her memories back together. Re-contextualizing. Shedding light on places inside her that hadn't come to the surface in eons to see where this new information came in.

"I..." Control of the situation had been wrenched from Azricai's hands. She had never felt so vulnerable. Not even when Lavi had asked her point blank if she loved him. "I did not want you to feel manipulated. I didn't want you to think less of how far you've come for my involvement."

Kea's eyes had softened with understanding Azricai had not ever dared to think about. "But that's the point of you isn't it? You only ever push forward what's already there. Like you did for Iblis. For everyone who has ever come to you troubled." A warm blush had spread across her cheeks. "Though I guess it's a little embarrassing that I was the guinea pig."

"You weren't!" Azricai cried. "You were never any such thing! You were my family, and you deserved better! That's all it was ever about!"

It embarrasses Azricai now. How she must have looked. Crying out and weeping before a woman who, until that moment, had never been aware that Azricai cared for her. Much less considered that somewhere in those unknowable depths, Azricai was genuinely attached to her--that she had been from the start.

But Kea had smiled. The way she only did with Iblis. With Camellia and Kiele and her children. With dragons she considered Family. The open gates of the Observatory awaited, and she would not go back on her decision. But she had spared a moment to embrace Azricai and say the only words that she thought needed saying.

"Thank you."

The words are still lodged in Azricai's heart. She sits alone inside the hollowed marble pillar she has called home since their first days in the Sunbeam Ruins. 

Rebis needs her. Lavi needs her. 

But no matter how many time she closes her eyes, the conversation replays, and the strength to do anything but curl deeper into her pillows eludes her. 

#Flight Rising #c: invigilavi #C: Arcanus #C: Rebis #C: Azricai #C: Carnelian #C: Heaven #C: Dantalion #In which there are Stages of Grief (tm) #Aphaster Stories

[shardclan]

Under normal circumstances, Arcanus would never have considered entering someone else's lair uninvited, much less go anywhere near their bed. It was an intersection of rude and inappropriate that a knight simply shouldn't find themselves at. But it was different with Azricai.

Even though Invigilavi considered her his mother and Arcanus his father, there was no awkwardness to entering her den, nor when he sat politely at the edge of her bed. Lavi shuffled in carefully after him, squatting to keep his bulk from clumsily damaging any of her things.

Azricai was motionless beneath the white sheets. She was one of very few who had personal lairs suitable for both glamour and draconic shape, and in spite of hers being a hollowed section of marble column, there had always been something fresh about it. Clean and breezy and welcoming--a sharp contrast to the stagnant air they sat in. She had filled it with her grief and it had become a sort of suffocating cocoon. Lavi had seen her often, but for Arcanus there was much to take in and he carefully spared her his pity.

"I understand Kea left," Arcanus ventured softly.

Azricai didn't answer, so he continued. "Many of our older clanmates left. Aphaster feels different without them. I feel I've seen Telos a thousand times since I returned. Every time I pass through the courtyard I think I glimpse her sitting under the arcades, staring off at the Summerlands. I see her shape in the grasslands so clearly. But she isn't there. Just the hole where she was, day in and day out for 22 eons."

"If I remember right, you were born during the Riot, three cycles ago." He held out his hand to her. "The space Kea left is 36 eons deep, isn’t it?"

She shuddered under her blankets. Her delicate, bony hand emerged and gripped his with the kind of strength that only came with agony. "She thanked me. Equinox told her everything right before the doors. And for it Kea thanked me. Embraced me as family." Her breath hitched. She covered her eyes and her voice came out again a thin, helpless sob. "I am such a fool."

"You aren't," Lavi immediately soothed.

"She is," Arcanus countered gently. "She and I both. You just don't know either of us well enough to know it."

Azricai looked up at the half-feral shape of the young guardian. He seemed confused, not only by their words but by her open weeping. "Kea was my resonant. ...She was the reason I became the Gale Wolf."

Lavi's fins closed, and he shuffled in spite of himself, suddenly extremely embarrassed and feeling trapped in the tight space. It would be one thing if Azricai were his age, but she was two cycles his elder. And the way he remembered his history lessons, one of the very first major things that had happened after Azricai joined Clan Shard was the Kea V. Rani case.

"The whole time...?" he asked gingerly.

Azricai nodded weakly, futilely wiping at her tears. "My very first."

Lavi felt his eyes water, and wasn't sure if it was sympathy or the discomfort. He had attachments--his attachment to Arcanus was quite strong--but he didn't have anyone he could call his resonant. Not yet; maybe not ever. He looked to Arcanus for some kind of signal on what to do or say, but something clicked and he blurted it without thinking.

"Was Telos your resonant?"

"No," the older guardian answered simply. "I was in love with her." He smiled apologetically and little bittersweetly as Lavi stood too quickly and knocked his head against the marble ceiling. "I told you we were fools."

He turned back to Azricai, and pulled her gently upright. It was the most disheveled he had ever seen her. Her meticulously maintained hair was tangled, her skin was sallow and dry, and though she hadn't been out of her lair since the end of Starfall, she looked completely exhausted. "I promised Lavi that when I returned, he and I would drink the old starmoss mead and he could learn all about who I am. But it seems he has as much to learn about his mother. Drink with us. To Kea and to Telos."

Two fresh trails of tears ran down her face, and she swept them away with annoyance. "I promise you I'm not depressed enough to be seen in this state."

"We don't have to go to the Sundial," Lavi offered, kneeling at her bedside. "We can just drink it here."

She cracked a weak smile. It felt like it had been a long time since she had seen his face, even though he had visited her so frequently. "No we can't. You can barely fit in here."

"We can go to the Sundew Falls," Arcanus offered. "The fishery is closed for the spawning seasons, and the storms over the savanna will make good evening scenery."

Azricai glanced between them. Arcanus didn't look like he intended to hear a no, and Lavi was radiating hopefulness that made her antennae ache after so long alone with her own thoughts. A part of her was too tired and too empty for this. But if there was ever a time to practice what she preached, it was now.

She had a feeling that once they were together anywhere else but in her lair, she would find herself thirsty. Both for the drink and every unspoken thing they were offering with it.

"Alright."

#Aphaster Stories #Flight Rising #C: Arcanus #C: Invigilavi #C: Azricai

[shardclan]

Under the great obsidian disc was an air of keen agitation that was so potent it was almost a solid object. Though it was unclear just what the source was, locals gave it wide berth.

Even Lutia stood in the outer rings of the columns, glaring out into the light of day with raised hackles. Constant unease was a struggle she had dealt with ever since returning from the Circle with Apokathisto. She was the Steward of the Seat, and that was certainly safe, but the stones that comprised the Circle were the power source. It might take an Age, but eventually the Seat would run dry of its power without them.

(And if she was honest, it irked her a little that the young guardian had formed some sort of connection with the Circle that even she was not fully privy to.)

None of that was what bothered her now. This was the kind of irate foreboding that she usually only experienced when Crucis had tampered with something he really shouldn't have. But it wasn't Crucis. It didn't feel like him, didn't smell like him. And the unfamiliarity of it only set her on edge more.

Apokathisto was either very brave or very desperate to have approached her.

"Something you need, Imperator?" 

“Invigilavi,” he corrected numbly. He had heard that word spoken with scorn many times since the paper announced it. At this point, it was all he could do to just direct his clan mates to his new name instead of drawing attention to his eventual title.

“Lavi it is,” the Archmage said distractedly. “Can I help you?”

He awkwardly joined her under the disc. His shape was still new to him and he couldn't change or remove the glamour. No one else in Aphaster barring transient mercenaries took such half-beast shapes. Yet he still had his characteristic air of reticence, despite a standing several heads taller than Lutia and having significantly more bulk.

"I would like to confide in you," he began. "If you don't mind."

Lutia gawked. No one had confided much of anything in her in eons. "Do I really seem the appropriate choice for that? You have the Gale Wolf for a mother!"

His face pinched. "It's because she's my mother that I don't want this to reach her. Perhaps it oversteps my boundaries but... I am coming to you because of your experiences. With your son."

Lutia's face froze into a mask, but her coat nearly doubled in size. The ghosts of ancient scents toyed with her sensitive nose, like a forgotten perfume with a thousand attached memories half-remembered.

"I know how you were raised, Lavi. I know you wouldn't bring that up on passing curiosity." Her voice was at once stonily meditative, as though she were talking herself out of her anger, and subtly cold with a fear he hadn't thought possible from her. 

"Can you be saved?" she whispered.

The question caught him off guard. He had been raised on the stories of the past, of how Lutia's rage had razed everything they used to be and chased them from their homeland. But hearing the slight quake of her voice and seeing the tight expression on her face, he knew he was treading into a place in her heart that wasn't full of anger but of old loss and barely healed devastation.

"I don't know," he answered quietly. "I suppose I'm telling you because I'm hoping you might find a way to make the answer into a yes before it's too late."

He held out his palm, displaying a small golden crack in his flesh. Lutia traced it quizzically. It wasn't opalescence, though it bore a resemblance. It was more like a scar, but the magical nature of it was obvious. The gold color confused her. Numb to his magic or not, he was Arcane.

"Is this a new gene?" she demanded. "Something expressing after your contact with the Circle?"

He laughed dryly. "I don't think so. This is..." He frowned, and let his hand drop from hers. "My magic isn't numb, Lutia. It's not inside of me any more. It's been displaced."

"Ashes didn't find anything of the sort wrong with you!" she countered hastily. "You have magic, you just cant feel it."

"Because it isn't mine. That's why I can't feel it, or command it. Not even to change this body. The Circle took my magic from me, and left something else. Something that lets me feel them...forming out there."

He rubbed his scaly fingers over the crack, feeling the almost metallic sensation of whatever had solidified in it. "The magic inside me belongs to the Circle. To Abankhit, in particular."

"Who the hell is Abankhit?"

"The name of the stone I touched. You have their names on your scroll. Abankhit would be the last." His eyes turned away, more out of frustration than avoidance. "I have a lot in my mind recently, Lutia. Knowledge that doesn't belong to me. But it's like the knowing you experience in a dream. It's an understanding that doesn't make sense in the waking world. I only know for certain I am charged to see Abankhit and all the rest back among the stars."

Lutia stared ahead, worried immensely at that not one but a full three dozen unstable astrals were working on manifesting into Sornieth. "And when you complete this mission, it will save Rebis somehow...But cost you your life a well?"

"It is not the completion may kill me.” He smiled bitterly at the crack in his palm. "Just like the Radiant could not house his essence in a body that wasn't his, my body isn't going to last forever on Abankhit's energy. It's astral magic. Horizon was born as he was and had both energies in equal measure. I was born a dragon, and was never meant to exist with anything but a dragon’s magic in me."

She remembered with painful vividness how hard it had been for both Horizon and herself. Day in, day out, meditating and controlling themselves at the risk of sublimating to another plane. What Lavi was describing was worse. He wasn't at risk of going on to some glorious other form of life. He was going to deteriorate and he couldn't even take refuge in exaltation because he wasn't whole without his birth magic inside of him.

"We can do the opposite of what Rebis is doing," she insisted fumblingly. "Magic infusion is just as routine as siphoning. A pain in the ass but you could live if the problem is not getting enough draconic magic."

His jaw clenched. He was almost grateful when the soft blue-white light under the disc took on a harsh magenta color. The Celestial Vault screeched and groaned and the crystal shot outward in brittle, hastily formed masses of unstable geometry, cracking and breaking only to be replaced be even more poorly generated spires of celestine. The multi-layered barriers of elements that rose over arcane hissed, and it wasn't long before Lutia doubled over, claws digging at the Arcanist's emblem blazed into her abdomen.

"It's burning!" she gasped raggedly. Her fur and the cracks of her opalescence glistened in angry pink neon, the focuses lining her limbs sizzling white hot. Even the spellscroll around her neck was shining with ferocious intensity. "Get back! Something's wrong, the Seat writhes--!"

Without flinching, Invigilavi reached out and placed his hand over her emblem. There was a faint hiss as the magic singed his scales, but the focuses quieted. Her fur settled back to its usual plain charcoal. The surge passed. He breathed a cloud of stardust that nearly pushed Lutia to vomit, but unlike Horizon, he did not seem otherwise harmed.

"You're..." she fumbled, her eyes widening with her rising horror. "You're immune...?"

He nodded grimly. In his hand, the crack had grown, tracing a curving golden leyline from thumb to wrist. He had siphoned away her magic, to seemingly no other detriment at all. No signs of inundation sickness--not even the drunken giddiness that accompanied exposure to high levels of one’s home element. 

But the booming of the earth barrier collapsing left neither of them the time to fully appreciate the trust he had just placed in her, nor the magnitude of what he had just done, nor the implications of the enlarged crack in his palm.

"You're the Steward," he said firmly. "Control it."

The words brought her agitation back in full force. The Seat was reacting to something. As much as she hated to think that it had a mind of it's own, it was confused and angry. For just a moment,  something had caused a ripple in the connection between it and Lutia. And while it's only goal had been to find her, left to its own self-expression it was only good at expelling raw energy.

Lutia put it back to sleep with the certain promise that she was would certainly raze something when she found out who was responsible.

@boyonetta

#Flight Rising #C: Invigilavi #c: apokathisto #C: Lutia #Zodiac Goetia

[shardclan]

Im looking forward to developing Lavi and Rebis so much??

Telos was sad and pissed off when she took office but she was also young and completely out of her depth.

Lavi was raised on the law and Rebis was raised on politics and logistics, so they're not entirely in the dark about how a clan is run, but theyre so different from Telos.

Rebis is timid and self conscious because of her diminutive physical size, she's the particular kind of foolish that comes from being spoiled, she takes things that aren't about her personally, and often sabotages herself because she's terrified that she'll fuck up Telos' legacy.

Meanwhile Lavi tends to spend too much time alone in his own head, he often takes too long to ask for help because he's so slow to trust others while at the same time hating to burden his loved ones with things that will worry them, is far too accepting of bad situations, and tends to have a kneejerk rejection reaction to anything he percieves as fulfilling the role he was raised for.

I will miss my wife Telos but I cant wait to write them both~

#flight rising #c: rebis #c: invigilavi

[shardclan]

Not to be dramatic or anything... but I would die for Invigilavi (And the rest of your characters and lore are top-notch! I'm always excited to read your stories when you post c: )

SAME HAT.

Also thank you so much???

[shardclan]

*Slowly nudges the scale of my clan’s presentation method away from gijinka and toward anthro* 

#flight rising #fr art #c: invigilavi