A Proper Reunion

[Kolava]

It had been two months since Kolava's Sojourn, but the scars of the fiasco had only begun to heal. He was saddened that it hadn't gone well, but, moreso, he was dreadfully embarrassed for having risked so much for such questionable gain in the first place. Just walking into Jutukalatomafon without a plan, acting on a hunch and a gut feeling? That wasn't him; it wasn't his style--and yet, that's exactly what he had done. And once he had found the kitsune, once he had come face to face with the one being who might actually be able to answer his questions, what had he done? Trifling small talk. He had wanted to ask a real question, but had been so bewildered by Declano's presence that the words wouldn't come.

And then it had ended. All at once, in one, sudden, paranoid instant, the meeting had ended. Running away like that sure brought back memories, memories of the days he had spent with the kitsune long ago, running together from the authorities on their escapades; Declano would always know the safest hideouts, the best cover stories, and never lost his cool. Only this time...they had run in different directions. Kolava, back to the seclusion of Goldenmyst and Declano to who-knows-where.

Kolava had considered another Sojourn. Many times had it crossed his mind, filling him with a false, trusting hope that the truth would be revealed at last, but each time it was shot down by Declano's words which still echoed in his memories. "Don't come back, and don't look for me again" had been his exact words, and the slight fear in his normally calm voice had been chilling.

The Castle's cathedral was the best place for thinking about this. Kolava wasn't sure why, but the empty pews made good company, especially with the moonlight shining through the stained glass in colorful patterns. He could spend hours here, just thinking and reminiscing; his tower was too stuffy and the forest too impersonal, but here, appropriately enough a place of worship, the large thoughts came easily.

It was during one of these quiet nights that it happened. It began, as these things always do, with a slight feeling of uneasiness that overcame the creature. He looked all around the room and behind him, wondering if perhaps another had just entered, but found no one; but no sooner had he returned his vision to straight ahead then had he found the pew in front of him occupied.

Kolava gasped and jumped visibly, then calmed and scrutinized the head. It was topped with fox's ears, and settled deeply into a heavy blue velvet collar. White fur lined its anthropomorphic features, clashing with those deep blue eyes which peered over red spectacles. It was Declano, presumably, or some uncanny likeness. An illusion wasn't out of the question; after all, Kolava had been stressed lately, and hallucinations weren't exactly uncommon for him. His doubts were soon banished, though, when the figure spoke.
"All alone? Tsk, that's no way to be."

"Declano..."
Once more, the creature found himself bewildered. His normal eloquence had escaped him, and his repressed questions had evaporated. He wanted to both strangle and hug the kitsune, but, for the moment, did neither.

"Now fission, I want to talk to you two."
Kolava nodded obediently, separating into his dual components. Nadir was soon sitting on the pew next to Kolava, looking like its usual self. It was about this time that the "illusion" theory was realized to not be so incorrect after all, because both kitsune and Procurator were only manifesting in Kolava's mind, not in the physical plane. Were anyone to enter the cathedral on a late-night errand, they would observe Kolava sitting alone, talking to the air. Not that this was uncommon for him...

[Kolava]

"First off, allow me to once more chastise you for your carelessness earlier. I'm proud that you found me, but you know better then that. There are more efficient methods of communication during times like these."

Kolava sighed, uncomfortable under his mentor's scrutiny. Nadir looked deeply into the kitsune and spoke.
"We tried all of these methods, but when you were sent to Carceri it seems most of your contacts dried up. And you know how difficult it is to mention your name and get an unclouded answer."

White furred hands rapped against the back of the pew as deep blue eyes slid from one creature to the other.
"Ha, yes, this is correct." He marveled, then continued with a grin. "You've certainly picked up the slack in Mirabile's absence. Pretty good, considering..." The tone in his voice was probing, taunting even. As a master of secretly pulling information from others and bringing it together, his dignity was not about to let Nadir keep its secrets from him. He knew for certain that this wasn't Mirabile, and probably wasn't Kolava, and yet its aura was strangely mixed. The closer he tried to look, though, the less he could see; it was as if the aura was hollow or absent altogether.

"Considering, what?" retorted the Procurator coldly.

"Oh, no need to say it. We all have our shortcomings. It's nice to see you've done so well with so little to work with." Red tinted lenses would swivel about, peering all around the ornate walls and vaulted ceiling, taking in the glorious architecture and underlying enchantment of the castle itself.

"Well, I can be quite thrifty when the need arises." Muttered Nadir with a hint of sarcasm, knowing the kitsune would react to this. React he did, almost instantly in fact. Those eyes roared back to the yellow creature, burrowing with renewed vigor. The words themselves were meaningless, but the significance was in their usage. Only one other time had Kolava so sarcastically uttered them to the kitsune...

...the memory always began with the smell. It pervaded the air and grabbed the lungs viciously, stealing one's breath away. It was the smell of electric death, the smell of third degree burns and vaporized blood. It was the smell of a pitched battle waged by a hopeless hoard against a single foe. That foe, who floated weightlessly above the scorched ground in this memory, would always turn their head just slightly and gaze down at the annihilated first wave. They would laugh coldly, then look up as the second wave raised their guns. Then all hell would break loose, and the memory would end because Declano had teleported away at that point. The highlight of the memory was the telepathic inquiry that was sent during this time; it was because of this that Nadir's words had gotten kitsune so worked up. Time had blurred the details, but he still remembered enough of the words:
~This battle is pointless; it's only to stall you, you know. A larger force is coming, and you've nowhere to run. War hasn't given you many options...~ ~No matter, We'll think of something. We can be quite thrifty when the need arises~

The corruption of Kolava and Mirabile Declano had witnessed on that day had saddened him greatly. What were once his shining proteges had together become just another warrior, and he felt the blame rested on him for having been a poor mentor. It has been his hope, his single hope, that the two creatures to whom he had bestowed his legacy and his blessings would remain pure, using their power for benevolence and virtue and staying away from the Hell of war. To his dismay, though, such a fate was unavoidable. They now spent every moment of their empty lives filling their heads with tactics and focusing their abilities for combat. Majestic was often called a weapon, but this wasn't actually a fair title for what was, if anything, a "tool." It sickened the kitsune to watch his "children" ignore its most wonderful noncombat powers, and instead focus on ones that could maim.

What had sickened him most of all, though, was the knowledge that the two carefree animals were still in there somewhere, trapped by the shells they had formed around themselves. Mirabile's shell was utterly heartless, without compassion or focus, while Kolava's shell was one of self-absorbed greed. Orpheus was not a kind place, and these shells were not only normal, but required for survival...but it had still broken the kitsune's heart...

Kolava now spoke, breaking Declano's stare and his thoughts. "What's wrong?"

"Declano has come to terms with me, it would seem." Nadir proposed.

"Yes, yes indeed." Declano replied flutteringly, sinking a bit onto his knees, his chest pressing against the pew's back. This wasn't right. It had been years ago when he had confronted and defeated his wayward "children" in a duel. The battle had been fierce, but in the end, the bitter Kolava and incorporeal Mirabile had fallen at his feet, staring up at him with hate in their once loving eyes. Having seen all other options fail, he had broken his usual code of noninvolvement and called upon a powerful kitsune spell to cleanse their souls and reawaken their hearts. The byproduct of the magic, the darkness which had been purged from their hearts, was sealed into a ball with a second spell and given to Mirabile upon her regaining her lucidity. His instructions had been to keep it safe as a memento, and that's what she had seemed to do...

But now: Nadir. What was it? The empty, soulless being, looked at the kitsune--because they were of equal strength, neither was able psionicly sift the other's mind. Declano could see that familiar chill of heartless selfishness in those eyes. The sealed darkness, defying the spell and common sense, was now sitting right before his eyes. It could have been Mirabile or Kolava with a new shell, but the former was gone and the latter was sitting nearby. In those eyes Declano could also see an overwhelming, inhuman code of logic, the origin of which was especially unclear, and for the second time in as many visits, Declano's adamant cool escaped him, and the Manipulant was truly at a loss.

[Kolava]

"You." accused the kitsune. "I thought I had finished with you."

"Oh, you had." Nadir agreed, looking to the creature beside him. "But he is far from finished with me." Kolava blinked, looking between the other two with uncertainty. He knew something heavy was in the air, but its meaning was just out of his grasp.

"Your reign over his soul was long enough; your damage was done. Can't you leave him be now?" Declano's posture shifted as he leaned back to grip his cane defensively. He had banished this corruption once and could easily do it again, especially since Majestic was out of the picture.

"I do not deny that my nature is inherently...the antithesis of innocence." Nadir spoke flawlessly, its eloquence having been retrieved when it had fissioned from Kolava, leaving emotion behind. "But I have not been given a new lease on life unconditionally. You will find that my presence here, with Kolava, has been not only benign--but perhaps, even beneficial."

Declano snorted at this, viewing the conversation as a hostage negotiation in many respects. He saw the logic in what Nadir said; Kolava's heart certainly seemed unharmed, if not a little lonely. Nevertheless, this thing stood for so much wrong, and he could not bring himself to feel grateful; after all, the real Mirabile had done a much better job--which brought him to another question.

"Where is Mirabile?" the Manipulant inquired.

"As it has been said: we do not know," replied Nadir.

Kolava looked down, having always known the answer in his heart. It was actually the one piece of information that Nadir and he did not share, because the Procurator could not grasp such incoherent, spiritual concepts that couldn't be defined by logic. It had been Nadir, therefore, who had been seeking for an answer to the question now and during the Sojourn.

"How can you not know?" mused Declano, beginning to catch on. Nadir had startled him, but his confusion had been only momentary. Now the possibilities were solidifying before him, he simply had to find the most plausible one. Could she have died? Unlikely, since she was already dead in several ways, and Majestic excluded her from the normal rules of mortality. Kidnapped? Extremely unlikely, for similar reasons. Just up and left? Impossible. Her bond with Kolava would have been too strong to abandon him--or, would it have been?

The kitsune bit his lip. While Kolava and Mirabile had seemed to be the greatest of friends, the relationship was sort of coerced. After all, she had been kidnapped from her adopted home without her consent, then had her survival linked to another. Who, in that situation, wouldn't be itching for chance at freedom? Declano had thought at the time that he was "rescuing" her from that place, "saving" her from the brainwashing, from the insanity, from the responsibilities his fanatic kin were layering on their new savior, but what if she hadn't thought the same?

"Well, what do you know?" he asked, realizing he needed more to work with.

"Lux Aeterna." blurted Kolava.

"Oh. My word." Declano held a delicate hand to his face. He didn't bother asking if the creature was serious, or if he had misunderstood. There was no other thing he could have meant. Mirabile's mind had always been remarkably open in the time the kitsune had known her. Even after she had been "rescued" from her time with the fanatics, she seemed always to welcome the spiritual ideals that were discovered, even when they scared others. Her passive drive for wisdom seemed to be a lingering reminder of just how different she was from anyone else; often, it seemed as though Kolava and, when he was able to be present, Declano were the only anchors that kept her concerned about this reality. While this level of drive towards the sublime was admirable in some respects, it also happened to be the single thing that kept her from being truly happy. It set in front of her as an impossible goal that blinded her from the simpler happiness she could find by settling down. Declano had known and been appalled by this, thus: the "rescue."

There had been more at stake then Mirabile's contentment, though. The "fanatics" were using their teachings to steer Mirabile to their favor. They, like so many others, wanted Majestic on their side; however, their subtlety made them much more successful then others. Never did they make her feel indebted in any way or ask anything of her, nothing that could tip her off that she was being used. Instead, they set her ambitions high and gave her a taste of the sublime, knowing she would do the rest and that their enemies would be snapped like matchsticks in due time. The significance of all of this, of course, was the term the fanatics had used so often to describe to Mirabile her destiny. It had been embedded deep in her heart, and she had always used it as a universal term to describe her goal. This term had been "Lux Aeterna."

"I see." Declano was far too vain to say he didn't understand, but it showed in his eyes.

"Yes," calculated Nadir, ignorant to the term's deep spiritual meaning, "now tell us where to find Lux Aeterna."

"What do you mean? Firstly, it is not a place. Secondly, even if it was, you, of all things, wouldn't belong there--"

"I do not wish to go there." Interrupted Nadir.

"--Lastly, you haven't finished explaining yet. When did she...what was it...and why is Kolava still here?"

"I wasn't worthy of going," admitted the creature timidly to the empty pews around him, bowing his head. Ironically, despite having the lowest IQ of the three, he was the only one who was making sense.

"Oh," mouthed Declano.

"What Kolava means to say is that he was unable to make the transit" Nadir said, "it is my duty to ensure his well-being until the situation changes."

"Is that so? Your 'duty,' you say?" The kitsune quirked a brow accusingly. "Last time I checked, you weren't into following orders."

"Last time you checked, I was not a Procurator of the Ziggurat."

Declano wasn't sure what to say to this. Again, it wasn't exactly something that could have been a joke, nor was its meaning unclear. The existence of a Procurator certainly confused matters in some ways, but in other ways they made everything that much clearer. If nothing else, it explained why Nadir was so hopeful and devoted and also cleared up the question of how Nadir had become a being in its own right instead of just a shadow sealed in a ball. Still, he had no idea how any of this had come to be.

Kolava sighed as the two intellects confronted each other. He was beginning to realize how alone in this he really was. Declano meant well and was very smart, but was clueless as to the details. Nadir was trying to be helpful, but wasn't doing a good job. And the truth? He thought back to his memories of Mirabile, the happy ones and the sad ones. He had liked her a lot. He wished she could be with him now.

"Kolava." Declano said at last, breaking the silence. "You haven't had much of a chance to speak yet, and that isn't fair. Can you tell me what happened?"

"He does not possess the intelligence required to properly convey that informat--" began Nadir, but Declano interrupted "--I know that Kolava isn't smart, I'm known that since before you were a glimmer in his eye! Now let him talk, I want to hear the real story, not a bunch of logical facts you pull from his memory."

There was a brief period of silence as Kolava slowly came to understand that the spotlight had fallen on him. He looked to Nadir, the being that had cradled him the last three years and spoken for him. Silence. He looked to Declano, the being who seemed to be the cause and solution to all of his problems. Silence. Taking a deep breath and pulling together his modest vocabulary, he began to tell the story of that infamous day.

[Nym]

*taps foot rather impatiently* and?... So far it is an enjoyable read. Makes you laugh a little in just the right places along with a time or two when you have to pause and wonder where it is leading you to. I love where it reveals what Nadir is and then immediately sends the readers mind into 10 different directions about how he could have gotten there. It shows a real depth to your character. It is of course interesting, for the noisy mun, to get a chance to spy on some of Kolava's history.

[Kolava]

(thank you for the feedback, Nym, I'm glad you enjoyed it)

Northern Volctt Sea, Orpheus, three years ago

Overhead, great, tumbling curtains of color danced across the starry blackness. It was the aurora, a unique celestial display of beauty in this otherwise barren arctic waste. Perhaps the waste was trying to cheer itself up? After all, the final sunset had been only a week ago, marking the beginning of a night that would stretch on for months.

Kolava sat on a patch of snow watching the display with awe in his eyes, impressed by the lights like a child with a sparkling toy. Mirabile, appearing beside him in his mind, also watched the display, though her eyes were downcast. She was watching the colors reflect in a wind-rippled pool of water that settled in the center of their iceberg, one formed of snow they had melted accidentally upon their arrival. Her tail was curled around Kolava snugly as if to keep him warm, but it was a symbolic act. She had no more substance then the aurora themselves and, as she looked, no reflection either.

Her mind was, as always, full, but this time there was a sense of urgency to her ponderings. They had come to this arctic waste and had sat on this iceberg because they knew that something was going to happen, and that this something would change everything. She wasn't yet sure how to feel about that. Her Lux Aeterna, her manifest destiny was so unsettlingly close that she could almost reach out and touch it; but the expectations of others were growing heavier the closer she came. The fear of letting so many people down kept her strong, and her morals kept her straight, but what force was there to keep her moving? Would anyone really mind if she wasn't here? Couldn't she just give Majestic to someone else and go find a forest to live in with Kolava? All this prophecy about Fate was just a suggestion of the future, not a rule, right?

No! She cringed, gritting her teeth and gripping the spell ball which had found its way into her hand, cursing herself for having even considered such selfish things. The ball's surface was still etched with Delcano's runes that had sealed away those impure thoughts; she wondered if maybe the spell was wearing off? The evils temptations of this world were just trying to trick her again--trying to steer her away from her true goal--the Monks had warned her about this. These temptations came in all forms; now even Declano was one. When they had very briefly spoken just before coming to Volctt, he had mentioned the possibility of finding planar vortices. He had mentioned a place called "Rhydin" and implied in his calm, manipulative way that they could start a new life there. She had pretended to listen out of respect, but knew that abandoning Lux Aeterna wasn't an option.

Kolava noticed the cringe and looked up with curious eyes, knowing his friend was churning with big thoughts he would never understand. Mirabile's manifested form was stunning to behold, a large, chiseled pool of golden fur with dipped-ebony legs and highlights like his of the purest white. It was Majestic's doing; the weapon refused to have its wielder look bland. She drew the breath from the average onlooker, but Kolava knew her closely and had grown, if it was possible, used to it. He asked her a simple question with his eyes, and she responded in kind, assuring him that all was well. Satisfied with this, he turned his naive gaze back to the aurora.

Mirabile wondered about Kolava's future. She had never dared dwell on the subject before for fear of what she might decide, but now time was running out and the time for decisions, if any were to be made, was at hand. This small creature understood so little, and his mind was a constant reminder of how naive she had used to be. Nevertheless, Declano had given him the Somnambulus instead of the dozens of other candidates when he had..."rescued" her from her time with the monks, so he must have some very useful quality. That's what she had thought at the time, and she still believed it now, but the belief was wearing thin. Often it felt that the only thing keeping her opinion of him high was this unnatural, selfish fondness...a deep memory tied to him, one of Tenor and of the simpler life. She believed that, so long as he was still alive and still happy, she hadn't truly given up on that life...

--Again she cursed herself, shaking her head at her silly runaway dreams. That life was over, a memory. She had a job to do now. Thousands of people would be devastated if she failed, and what was her happiness worth compared to that of thousands? Taking a deep breath and putting the spell ball away, she rested an ebony paw between Kolava's relaxed shoulderblades and fused with the Somnambulus. The plural being floated a few feet from the ground and hung weightlessly, squinting into the piercingly cold arctic wind as odd noises echoed from over the horizon to herald the beginning of the end.

[Kolava]

A mile of ice sat on top of the Ziggurat, as if the planet was hiding it from the stars in shame. No one remembered how it was built, or for what purpose, or even why it was called the Ziggurat, but there it was. Like all other Hsarnate ruins, it sat just outside of normal time, and the term "ruins" was truly wasted on it. Its grand columns and sweeping vistas of black glass were as postcard perfect as they had been centuries ago, and probably even for millennia before that. Unlike other Hsarnate ruins, however, which were mapped out and sometimes even inhabited, the Ziggurat was desolate. Even the Psuedo-Hsarnate themselves didn't know how far down its shafts went.

The unknown factors hadn't deterred Linear; if anything, they had made him even more curious. A full arm of the Dragoon military complex had converged on this arctic waste on the decks of so many freighters, and it soon became clear that Volctt was already colored in on his map as a controlled territory. The Pseudo-Hsarnate had always backed away from a frontal assault before, and he expected them to continue this trend, but he also knew that intimidation was half the battle and was sure to send in his elite to plant the actual flag and handle "negotiations" with any straggling Psuedos. But, as it would happen, the Psuedos valued Volctt with their very lives, and would have sooner piled themselves up as a wall of corpses then let a tyrant's flag be planted in such a holy location.

Kolava had never seen Mirabile so motivated, and was scarcely able to keep up with her as she charged into that place. He sprinted along the glossy, black path with a look of complete unawareness on his face; it was only after the gateway dissolved behind him that the bizarre qualities of this timeless ruin really began to sink in. "I'm not going fast enough," he thought, knowing Mirabile couldn't manifest too far from the Somnambulus. "She depends on me. She is very important. I need to go faster." Ahead, she had leapt up onto a low cliff to get a better view of the undreamed glories of this place. Seeing her stop, Kolava collapsed into heavy breathing and licked his wounds. They had made it through the ice tunnels with a mixture of luck and adrenaline, sneaking when stealth was possible and skirmishing when it was not.

Even though she knew it was the wrong thing to do, Mirabile had stopped for Kolava's benefit; he was exhausted. Her conscience was screaming at her, calling Kolava dead weight and reminding her that his usefulness had expired. She ignored it, though, unwilling to surrender her final expression of free will. She looked down to her hand, to the ball which silently taunted her. It had found its way into her hand again during the skirmishes, when the rush of combat had become too intense to handle. It was as though it was trying to tell her something, but she was refusing to listen.

Just then, a wave of light washed over the dim landscape, leaving swirling purple grass in its wake. Before either creature could react, they were standing on a windy purple Savannah with a profusion of stars above them; the streaked black glass had disappeared completely. It was bright as day despite there being no sun, and it was harsh on their tunnel eyes for a few moments. A dreamscape was the most apparent explanation for Mirabile, but something was different here. The physical plane still seemed so close, and a bewildered Kolava still stood behind her. The boundary between Dream and Physical had just evaporated, as she realized with a sharp gasp.

"What's going on?" Kolava squeaked, but words failed her. It was taking all of her effort to remind herself that this wasn't just another scene playing out in her imagination, this was actually happening. Every thread of her existence had been leading her, she now knew, to this moment.

The wind which was slashing through the purple stalks in great waves suddenly changed directions, bringing with it a burst of warmth. Mirabile turned, her eyes wide and her mouth hanging open in absolute awe.

"We've made it Kolava, we're here," was all she could whisper. He smiled, but not for the same reasons. This place confused and scared him; he wanted very much to leave. The reason he was smiling was much simpler: Mirabile was happy, and that meant everything was fine.

"Look!" She marveled, pointing to a star which was moving. As the two creatures looked closer, they saw that all of the so called stars weren't actually too far away. They were dark globes, each hanging in a glowing corona against a backdrop of absolute blackness; some of them in the distance were only a few feet above the ground. Together the globes formed a hemisphere around Mirabile.

"What are they?" wondered Kolava out loud, glancing up from his grassy shelter below the cliff face.

Mirabile considered the answer. "Procurators, I think. The Hsarnate idea of a labor force. The Ziggurat is where they are born." She smiled at them kindly, reaching out to touch one. It recoiled from her touch, then expanded into a black mass the size of a basketball that hummed: {Insert_Parameters}. "Whoa!" she giggled, falling back. "I think it likes me."

Kolava heaved a great sigh of relief, feeling the same way about her laughter as he did about her being happy, but a thousand times more extreme. He tried to climb up the embankment, to where she was, but had a bit of trouble. He knew after years of wearing the Somnambulus that it was important to be close to her, but this time it didn't seem to matter. He had no way of knowing about the dynamics of the Dream and the Physical, but he understood that this entire place had the same special properties as the slip of silk around his neck, making him frighteningly extraneous.

"Do you know where to find Lux Aeterna?" Mirabile asked the globe. She wore a smile, but knew deep in her heart that there was no time for mirth here. The Psuedos were distracted for now, but could discover her at any moment. She could feel the bursts of their energy in the distance where they were fighting off the Dragoons, and her smile faded a little bit every minute when the bursts got closer.

{ReturnDataType:Location;Parameters:"Lux_Aeterna";execute} The globe hummed emotionlessly, disappearing. Mirabile, humorously embarrassed, looked to the other globes for an explanation, then over her shoulder to where Kolava was struggling to climb. "I think I've done it Kolava. I think everything is going to be O.K. now."

{ReturnLocation:"errorNot_Found"} spoke the globe as it reappeared. {Clarify_Parameters/Abort}

Mirabile huffed, folding her forepaws across her chest. "You're not a very useful Procurator. Can't you even find me Lux Aeterna? The Source of Dreams, the Heart of All Worlds, the Prime Archetype, the--" she proceeded to list every synonym she could think of for Lux Aeterna, and the glossy black sphere stood absorbing it all. When she paused to catch her breath, the sphere shivered in recognition and disappeared. "I think I've actually got it this time, Kolava, for real!" Kolava had given up on climbing, and merely stared at the lip of that cliff with a smile. "Oh good," he said softly, beginning to realize how truly useless he was at this point. She was negotiating with Hsarnate, and he couldn't even climb up a few stupid rocks.

The joy of the moment ceased instantly, though, as a pulse of malevolent energy detonated very close. Either the Psuedos had noticed them and were coming, or the Dragoons had penetrated the final lines of defense; either way, it wasn't good news for them. Thankfully, the Procurator appeared at that moment and gave her the directions she had unwittingly asked for. Sadly, Mirabile's face went utterly blank as this happened, because it dawned on her that the only way to act on this information would be to go deeper into the Ziggurat, far past where anyone else, including Kolava, would be able to follow without Majestic. She took a few shallow, upset breaths, looking in the direction of the approaching forces and pressing the spell ball to her chest. "Kolava...I...I..."

Kolava bowed his head; she did not have to finish her sentence. He had known exactly what she was going to say long before she had ever thought of saying it. "Go." He said simply, valuing her success above his own well-being. The scared animal had never understood these strange human concepts of "selflessness," "sacrifice," or "bravery"...but he thought that, maybe, just maybe, if he tried thinking of someone other then his useless self for once, Fate may be impressed. "Hurry."

"Thank you Kolava...I...Thank you..." came her shaky voice. There were few strange noises, then silence. Silence only broken by the incoming roar of explosions. It was the sound of his destiny, the destiny of all who dared to strive to achieve something they weren't meant to have. He heard the machine guns tearing into the grass, and the sound of the arcanist's fireballs searing everything in their path. He curled up, closing his eyes, too scared to look.

Just as he was taking what he guessed to be his final breath, a cold claw grabbed him by the neck and pulled him upwards. He screeched in terror, but still didn't open his eyes. Nadir, clutching Kolava tightly, floated above the embankment and looked to the approaching forces. It looked down to the grass, where its unformed brothers twirled curiously around an empty spell ball. It looked over its shoulder, far off to where the planar nexus was. It checked its parameters: a confused mix of selfish desires, personal goals, and abandoned bitterness. Spiritual speculation was irrelevant, the preservation of Kolava's well-being is what mattered. With a burst of speed, the Procurator headed for safety.#nosmileys

[Kolava]

The predawn sky filled Kolava's vision as he finished the story. As he had talked, he had paced out of the cathedral and even out of the castle, because he knew his claustrophobia was prone to act up when this much emotion surfaced. Declano, or the mental shadow in his likeness, followed with tacit steps, a gentle and sympathetic pout rushing to cover his face whenever Kolava looked. Nadir had ceased manifesting and had disappeared, surely having supplied the vocabulary and eidetic facts despite Declano's request; not that it mattered, there was no doubting that the story had come from Kolava's heart.

Kolava now stood on the edge of the bluffs, blinking at the salty air and listening to the distant surf. He did not know what to say to Declano that the Manipulant hadn't already heard or figured out, and had learned from past experience not to patronize him. Still, the silence could not last forever; eventually one of them would say something and this retrospect would be pulled back into the present--or even, Kolava considered with a hint of dread, the future.

"A sad tale, indeed," agreed the kitsune with a calm, benevolent tone that brushed the sad atmosphere away as one would cobwebs in an attic. "But I have heard sadder--and from stronger people." He peered down to the creature, tilting his head in a manner that Kolava had so often done out of imitation. His eyes were like two moons: large, distant, and exerting an undeniable pull on even the most massive of things, and his gestures were sudden without being startling. Kolava inhaled shallowly at this, embarrassed to have expected sympathy. The fortress of his mind was something he only truly opened to very few, Declano among them.

"You don't sound surprised," said the creature with reverent curiosity, beginning to remember how frustrating these conversations used to be. "Did you just have me repeat a story you already knew, just for your amusement?"

"Rhydin has made you cynical," noted Declano, dodging the question.

"Isolation has made you useless," countered Kolava, turning away. He respected his former mentor, but this was growing absurd; the kitsune had the capabilities to do so much, and yet acted as though he was content to merely stand there and taunt him with riddles. He felt a well of frustration bubbling in him against this individual, this grinning schemer, this intruder in his fortress, and couldn't keep it contained any longer.

"Useless? That's a pretty ironic term to label a Manipulant with," murmured Declano in protest, displaying a mockery of pride in his profession.

"Manipulant!? Don't go claiming such titles, then sit back and do nothing as your handiwork falls apart. It's...irresponsible."

"I'm afraid that I don't understand," the kitsune probed, twisting his cane into the earth idly. "I don't come to you as a friend, a master, or even as an acquaintance, Kolava. I come to you only as Declano; take that as you will."

"Well, this whole thing is nothing but a game to you, right? With us as pawns? Well, this pawn is sick of it, and wants out." Kolava hissed with indignation, taking a step backwards. "But, no, you will have none of that. You insist on steering the every action of others to meet your own twisted scheme, with Free Will as a tragic but necessary casualty."

"I've wasted so much of my life humoring you, and what has it gotten me? Clarity? Purpose? No! Nothing but lie layered on top of lie," he stuttered, looking at this gesturing palm, then slashed his arm violently and spit out what had been pinching him. "It-It's just a blanket of ignorance covering the shivering truth: there is no great "purpose"! Those who have sacrificed trying to find it have sacrificed in vain!" A plume of steam rushed from his nose, carried away by a chilly early morning breeze. It was followed by two more, then, finally, words."--So either level with me, or go find someone else's head to poison." His ultimatum was soft but firm; his mentor had been pushed to the doorway of the fortress, and what he said next would determine if the door was to be slammed in his face.

"Rhydin has made you wise," grinned Declano, correcting himself. Kolava was caught off guard by this, and did a double-take. The kitsune took a step forward and continued. "Very well, I will...'level' with you."

Kolava's eyes widened, and his anger metamorphosed into passionate curiosity. The door had now been torn from his hinges, and the walls had creaked with the suddenly recalled burden. Moving without thought, to the dictation of unspoken law, he lowered himself before the being which already dwarfed him, and listened closely. Declano had swung from his side a thick tome bound in mottled leather and thrown his eyes to the fluttering pages before locating his place and nodding. Kolava recognized the tome; it was the Codex of Fate, a composition of forgotten lore which Declano seemed to derive all of his plans from. It was prophecies from this very book that had been said to have shaped, guided, and smashed down entire kingdoms with no more then single cryptic passages. It had also been said that the greatest power of all was hidden somewhere in its texts, waiting dormant for a Fated individual to unlock. A lot had been said...but about the actual book Kolava still knew very little.

"--for Nameless from Paradise rises; an Ancient bane is raptly bore; the Three keys from the Dream comprises--" read Declano intently, peering down through his red lenses and transforming the Ancient words from script to sound. "--The dark True silences evermore."

"You've read that one to me before. What does it mean?"

"Whatever you want it to."

"Declano! You said you would level with me!" reminded Kolava, feeling like a maze-running lab rat that had been teased into a dead end. Somewhere in this book was the purpose of his life, and he wasn't going to let the kitsune keep it to himself any longer. Three years in Goldenmyst had given the creature a lot of time to think, but all of the deepest thoughts ended the same way: shredded and bewildered at the feet of a figment of memories. Declano was that figment, laughing with the book in one hand and Kolava's future in the other.

"What do you want to hear?" Declano asked, looking up from his precious book of prophecies.

"The Truth. You horde it; I'm just asking for some generosity."

"I do not give enough as it is?" The kitsune gave a laugh. "Besides, you would look for Truth in prophecy? One would have better luck searching for fish in the desert. These words have something better then Truth, Kolava."

"What are you saying?"

"See for yourself." He closed and handed the Codex to Kolava, much to the creature's surprise; this tome almost never left Declano's hands normally. With trembling digits, he rotated and spread the heavy binding, revealing yellowed parchment pages that were rich with creases, insect tunnels, and multipage stains. He flipped a few pages in search of quick and easy enlightenment, then browsed furiously with darting eyes. At last, with weary squints, he gripped the kitsune's bookmark and opened to the most recent prophecy--nothing. It was all blank, every page, and his fortress was rubble.

[Kolava]

"What...does this...mean?" Kolava stammered, staring at the same empty point of space even as the book sank in his weakening arms. He felt a clenching in his stomach, a sudden shiver of understanding that was snared by lingering confusion. "Where are...?"

"The Prophecies?" offered Declano, facing the arch of light that was the Sun as it peaked over the ocean and clasping his hands behind him. Kolava remained silent, knowing the answer but too choked by doubt to think about it until he could hear it from the kitsune's mouth.

"Never were any," whispered the kitsune, who then added with a hint of guilt: "I've always found elaborate props to be a crutch for a lack of stage presence, but for this, I made an exception."

"The Codex..." spoke Kolava with a desperate glimmer of doubt.

"--Memes can be created and destroyed, Kolava. Rumors can be birthed, spread, and honed. People are scared of the unknown by nature, and what greater unknown is there but the Future? Faith is the mind's defense mechanism, be it faith in gods, in peers, or in Fate. Now, yes, it is a perfectly natural reaction to the stimulus, nothing for anyone to be ashamed of by any means--"

Declano turned and kneeled, his furred hands separating to rest on his cane and knee. As his face grew closer to Kolava, it could be seen to give a dazed grin. "--But if one isn't content being just anyone, then it is imperative that they show...moderation in their defenses. The Future is what we make of it, and no sodding book has the authority to say otherwise."

Kolava let the blank tome drop to the scrubby grass. He didn't care as it landed face down and creased more of the pages; his faith and respect for the book had been called out, and had evaporated under scrutiny.

"Then all of your prophecies...?" Began Kolava, expecting Declano to finish.

"Did you like them? Most were impromptu, though the rhymes gave me a bit of trouble..."

"...but...their content--How much was based on your knowledge?"

"Language is a funny thing. Sometimes, answers are born of words themselves, never mind what the speaker knows of the question."

"But so many of them were significant...too many to have been coincidental."

"Coincidental? There's a big word." The kitsune laughed at the creature's expansive vocabulary, recalling days of a quiet Kolava of few words.

"That wasn't really an answer to my question." Kolava snapped. Prophecies from the Codex, genuine or not, had been a call to action in his more active years. He had risked his life countless times thinking he was filling a role of grave importance, and it was the pride of his accomplishment during those days that kept him sane whenever he felt useless. If Declano was going to take that away from him, then he was going to deal with an angry little furball.

"What do you want me to say? That I have prior knowledge to how events will occur, when, and what is to be done about them?" The kitsune stood again, gesturing in the air. "If only it were so simple, Kolava."

"You've--but you've-- always made me feel, my entire life, that I was part of something bigger. Like her. Now, you just laugh like its a joke, and say it was all lies and false prophecy? I-I-I followed you and went along with all of it...because I trusted you, Declano...you promised me--"

"Promised you what?" interrupted the kitsune with sudden, undeniable oratory energy. "If I recall correctly, when I first found you, you were a stray eating out of a dumpster, Kolava. I found you a home with a warm pad for sleeping and a food bowl that was always full. You could have been happy..." His volume drifted off as he gauged the creature's expression, which was utterly blank now.

"...But no, you weren't content with that lot. You insisted on--You, insisted--on going farther. So, playing along with your implicit requests, I taught you how to talk and walk like humans. I gave you objects to explore, and thumbs to explore with. I gave you many things, Kolava...but most important of all, I gave you an illusion of purpose."

"Just an illusion?" responded Kolava humbly.

"It was the best I could do; real purpose cannot be handed out, one must discover it for oneself. Sure, what you received was hollow...but are not barrels hollow? --look at how useful they are."

Feral green hues drifted to the ground, to the worn leather binding of the tome. Kolava could once again feel the true benevolence of the kitsune; three years had been enough time for him to forget. Now, doubtless and open, he ventured a feeble guess in a small but hopeful voice. "A barrel...can be filled?"

"You're on the right track," reassured Declano, his smile remaining as warm as the golden glow of the dawning sun, "In time you will understand what I have given you, Kolava. It is a limitless gift for my limitless protege. At heart, you are niether beast nor man, and your potential is limited only by your self-doubt."

The kitsune began to fade into indistinct mist, his time in Rhydin drawing short either by the limited duration of his magic, or perhaps by his own sense of timing. Taking a few steps across the ground, he slipped the spectacles from his face and sized up Kolava one last time with his lunar eyes.

"Remember, Kolava: It is better then Truth...because it is yours."

And then, there was silence on the cliffs except for distant cocks and songbirds reacting to the dawn. Kolava remained where he was, as did the Codex, having been physically manifested and left behind by the spirit. Kolava nudged it unceremoniously off the cliff and to the crashing surf below.

He no longer had a need for prophecy.

[preistmerill]

Bravo. Bravo indeed.

[Cherise]

- forgets how many pages.. 60? but then screams something about sci fi and runs away screaming/laughing -