Honestly, he'd expected no less of the first requirement and it's a reasonable risk to take, given the results expected. Elidibus sighs inwardly over the matter, but doesn't argue further. With luck, perhaps circumstance will dictate whether it's talked about or arbitrarily decided. There should be room enough for convincing later.
Then there's the matter that has the Emissary on tenterhooks and yes, Lahabrea is the subject of one of Elidibus' rare bouts of visible ire. Well, mostly rare. Of late, he's been showing emotion more often, mostly involving encounters with the Warrior of Light he knows. Or Warrior of Darkness, as it now goes. As he listens to the Speaker further elaborate on the reasons for this unpleasant venture, the tension begins to dissipate. It's a wholly reasonable notion and one he can compare to his own research to verify. Memories, themselves, do get exchanged in a bond. And it helps that Lahabrea says 'we'. So he fully intends to share in this farce. Not simply for the sake of some sentimental 'the reasons for the importance of their purpose' for all it will hurt to forget again but as a mere clinical sorting of whose memories belong to whom. To a point, anyway. After all there is a large swath of time Elidibus will simply be unable to verify.
Maybe it occurs to the Ascian that in itself would be easy enough to sort out on his end without the use of the stone. Just about everything from the beginning is gone, leaving anything else, apart from a few tattered fragments, solely Lahabrea's perspective. But it wars with the deep desire to really remember all that is lost, no matter how painful. To KNOW what more those fragments would say. Something he never would have given form to consider, had he not been brought to Aefenglom.
"Your reasoning is exemplary, Lahabrea," Elidibus answers, in a notably more calm state. "While it may be unpleasant, it will serve a purpose. Let me once again agree to your conditions, without rancor. I will be sure to steel my resolve, when the time comes."
Just... once. Just once wouldn't hurt too much. Right?
Lahabrea had not been part of those conversations, the pleading with Elidibus to regain a connection to his fragmented past. It hadn't been his business, and it hadn't affected his work, so he'd simply disregarded it though he knew about it happening. The finer details of why Elidibus refused eluded him, but it might not surprise him to know it was a lack of wanting to deal with that loss again.
But everything Amaurot would be recalled, even if the intervening thousands of years lay forgotten. There would be more of a struggle to determine what and when the rest outlined .. but he could deal with that when it arose, if he still had a mind to do so. Perhaps by then the dragon would be fully in control, and dragons were so certain of how flawless their memories were that they held grudges across centuries for things done by people long since dust. People who even through the effort of the Ascians, would not return. Not in their piteous fragmented states, those lives swept away by the experience of far older souls.
He has far more reservations than spoken about, but other than a thinning of the lips it's not really easy to tell there's lingering displeasure. This too was weakness, wasn't it? Having to rely on others to simply keep being able to string words together in a coherent fashion.
It was pathetic. How he himself from eras past would have laughed at his current plight, so helpless as to be undone by the will of something other than Zodiark Himself.
Elidibus hadn't laughed, not yet. But he wasn't much prone to those emotions to begin with, not anymore. He had other ways of making displeasure known, and Lahabrea still waits for the inevitability of it. "Mayhap confronting it directly will make it less unpleasant when the time comes," the ascian mutters, scrubbing a hand over the lower part of his face. "I have oft found terrible things to be less so when challenged outright, and not simply allowed to skulk about in the back of one's mind like starving jackals darting in to snap at whatever thoughts they can wound." But that wouldn't be contended with for quite some time yet, as the stone he possessed was strangely inert.. which means this place somehow muffled even that.
Most people do not find Lahabrea's methods of contending with difficulty to be things worth emulating. More fragile things, and people, tend to break. "... When. Are you insisting this bonding be done."
"Perhaps," Elidibus answers politely. There is no doubt he does not look forward to the experience one bit, beneficial or not. The Emissary is unaware at the moment that he has in some places broken skin where his fingers dig into the flesh of his palm. He had, after all, taken the gloves off when first entering. He'll notice eventually.
There are weaknesses and risks that Elidibus doesn't elaborate upon as well, so they are equal in that. Perhaps some are similar. Such as how in a mere year of this world and its Bonds, Emet-Selch has become so enamored with mortality as to perhaps be swayed away from the path and Zodiark's will. Though admittedly the impossibility of that last makes it far from conscious thought for now. But dare they think to wait for a mortal century or so? If one year did this, what would one hundred of them do?
The limits of his own body's, too. Some thoughts on which have been mostly dismissed as irrelevant; there will surely be ways to extend the lifespan, once Ascian ingenuity and experience has been applied. But also that he would, on a course of magic he most certainly will not abstain from, explode from the over-production of aether without a Bond...
"There is no sense in delaying it further, now that we've reached a consensus. In a few days this period of a new moon will be upon us and I doubt the Coven will be performing ceremonies that are not of the utmost urgency."
The native magic being weakened, the Mirrorbound's being harder to control, supposedly. It sounded a deadly combination for any spell craft which required tying two souls together and would have both sides of the scale in play. He doubts the Coven would truly appreciate what's at stake.
So... now, then? Elidibus is certainly getting to his feet and giving Lahabrea a questioning look to see if he will continue to concur.
One of the many, many, many reasons Lahabrea had no interest in tethering his soul to a mere mortal is that same lingering concern. As much as their compatriot had his gloom moments and could spend decades asleep, this ... this was completely unheard of, and thus had to be some external influence. He is inevitably wary.
There is a marked hesitance as Elidibus works on regaining his feet. 'Now' was ... inconvenient.
... It really wasn't.
Was this too a matter of faith? Not only that the degrading humiliation he's been faced with wouldn't somehow taint Elidibus too, but that the nascent witch could somehow spare him the worst of it? That even though nothing could prevent the warping of the vessel he wore, his soul could remain cleanly still ascian? They never were the shells they wrapped themselves in, this might be no different, if he could just ... keep his mind.
If the instincts that had driven even longer-changed dragons to try to kill each other over the city didn't likewise drown him out.
If.
Facing terrible things, indeed.
"...Very well."
It wasn't blind hope, there was precedent assuming things still worked the way they did with mortals, but it was perhaps the only hope he had, if laying his salvation at the feet of some hyur witch was as utterly unthinkable as it was. Eventually, he moves. It's not graceful, the tangle of robe and limb and tail, with the awkwardness of limbs and joints flexing in ways not yet familiar. Other things had changed, between a handful of days ago and now; the feet he balances on uneasily are no longer of a familiar plantigrade shape but fat-toed and starkly reptilian, easily spotted by the bright flash of color at the hem of his robes instead of solid, recognizable dark boots. Apparently rather recent indeed given how blunt he keeps the claws on his fingers, the new ones still come to wicked looking dangerous points. Whatever had shifted in his ankles and feet hasn't gotten higher yet, making movement problematic without cooperating knee joints and changed bone lengths in thigh and calf. He'll manage, but it won't be elegant.
Which is likely to be a severe affront to his ever-sensitive pride, but that would have to be dealt with.
Blissful is the darkness that prevents Elidibus' mortal form from seeing clearly the full extent of the changes. But he is watching and he does notice a few things. Light glinting from transformed feet. The awkwardness Lahabrea exhibits standing. Signs that his change is not a matter of years or decades, but shockingly fast. And thus too, the degradation of the Speaker's mental state.
Elidibus must impress upon a Coven witch that this is a matter of great importance, should any dare to suggest delaying matters. He nods to Lahabrea, not speaking of the matter, and turns to fetch his gear and set about donning it again for the journey.
An eye is kept on his fellow Unsundered during this time. The Emissary will not outright offer the indignity of supporting Lahabrea during their journey. But he will be ever near, keeping his own pace to the Speaker's and always being ready to catch him, should he start to fall. The matter of needing aid after all, seems the less appalling weakness than falling flat on one's face.
Their slow progress, yes. No amaro again, which in a way is fortunately, for she would not be likely capable of carrying both their weight far even grounded and her pace would be useless for the current circumstance. It has gotten on in the evening, as winter seasons bring darkness early still and so Elidibus had taken a lantern from Lahabrea's belongings once again, so he could light his their way. There would be an extravagant length of time in which to have doubts, second thoughts or general conversation.
Elidibus intends to give no consideration of second thoughts. He will remain firm, even if something is voiced. And as he agreed to the terms Lahabrea presented, he expects there should be none spoken of aloud.
Of doubts, the Emissary will do as he always does of late. Dismiss them as irrelevant. At least those voiced to himself. What Lahabrea might bring up will be addressed, as that is Elidibus' duty.
'Small talk' is not really their way. Especially his way. They meet for business or important matters, they go back to their tasks. It would surprise Elidibus, if Lahabrea wished to engage in something so personal. He will not.
Only physical aid, should it prove needed. And a tendency to switch position with the Speaker depending on the wind's direction, acting as something of a break to added chill.
When the Coven headquarters is finally reached, there is still plenty of activity. And why not? With vampire related Bonds and research to be had at all hours, there's surely a night shift. It is pleasing though, to know there won't be reason for delay. The interior may not be as overly warm as Lahabrea's place, but it is pleasant, thanks to ample enchantments. Elidibus need not take off his layers immediately, though the hood of his cloak is pulled down.
The two will be noticed not long after entry. How could one not notice Lahabrea and a warrior with a giant axe? Particularly the former. The power of a dragon, even one not fully transformed, is highly sought after. Most turn away with varying stages of disappointment on noticing Elidibus at the dragon's side. Or at least possess a good, healthy respect for a dragon's temperament. A few still look on with a hopeful air. Perhaps it is a Bonded pair looking for another. The Emissary ignores the stares.
An elderly Coven witch is on duty for reception and is quick to draw attention to himself. "Greetings and welcome. How may the Coven assist you today?"
At least Elidibus isn't going to make the Speaker address the mortal. Using his host body's natural tones and an example of good-hearted cheer, he addresses the receptionist. "We wish to form a Bond. Is there a witch available to conduct the ceremony?"
There's really no reason to chatter along the way as far as Lahabrea is concerned either. When one has forever, filling silent spaces with mindless conversation becomes tiresome somewhere after the two hundred year mark, and he hasn't really indulged in a long while. That Elidibus feels similarly is at least ... familiar.
More people could do well to learn the simple contentment in silence.
The only interruption is a good twenty minutes after they set out, stumbling and awkward, before he mutters a curse and steps sideways onto a less worn cobblestone street and spends a solid five minutes dragging his new talons across the stone, leaving deep grooves as he goes. But more importantly, those sharp, sticking tips are worn down or simply broken straight off. It's .. slightly easier going after that, or at least less stumbling; by the time they actually reach the other side of the city he's figured out better how to use that long rudderlike tail to aid a bit in balance.
It won't be entirely better until this misery's finished having its way with him, but it's somewhat less embarrassing.
While he does note that Elidibus keeps changing position based on where the wind is, he says nothing about it. He can feel the wind through his robes and the clothes underneath, the cold simply didn't bite the way it used to. The only blessing, he supposed, for the layer of feathers and scales, they seemed to work wonders as insulators.
The certainty this is not the best of ideas remains, aided not at all by the attention garnered as they finally arrive at the needed destination. He still strikes an ominous figure, fluffy dragon bits aside, and it's a stark contrast to Elidibus' feigned good cheer and Ardbert act, a silent and disapproving red-masked, bad tempered shadow.
Elidibus is allowed his act.
It is after all, important.
"Not the sort of witch inclined to officiate weddings. When we leave I intend to eat him."
Lahabrea's rasped addition to 'Ardbert's' pleasant and friendly request is anything but equally friendly and pleasant, and one of the younger witches off to the side chokes on his evening tea, coughing and giggling and quickly excusing himself before it gets any worse. Bonds don't kill each other, so obviously it's macabre humor, no matter how utterly seriously it's said.
The Speaker doesn't so much as twitch a feather at his now more distant giggles. "I want that one, if he knows the spell," he adds, almost as an afterthought.
Through the long session of scraping talon on stone, Elidibus awaits. But without correction on the matter of dragon susceptibility to cold and wind, he will continue his attempts at lessening the impact. It's not unreasonable, with the information he has so far. An extremely warm house and then yet again sleeping close to a boiler for the extra warmth on top of it. It does suggest a certain preference to heat rather than chill. Just a slight crossing of wires between naga vulnerability and dragon perhaps. Misguided, but altruistic for the most part and a sign that he's at least comprehending 'cold' now.
Upon arrival and the subsequent events that follow, Elidibus slowly turns and looks up at Lahabrea, fixing him with a long look that might have a measure of its own disapproval. The elderly receptionist is given something of a fright by the absolute seriousness of the manner in which the dragon expresses his intentions. "I... I.. oh." Perhaps he too comes to the conclusion of it being a macabre joke. Not so much in the face of the witch who spit out his tea, but in the calm manner by which Elidibus reacts. He inhales and exhales to calm himself, before choosing to move on like a true professional.
"Liam? Why, he certainly knows the spell and I can see if he has time. I hope he has not offended you in any way, however," the receptionist studies both Elidibus and Lahabrea. Mostly Lahabrea, as if trying to scry the level of danger Liam might be in. There may still be giggling to be heard. So it may actually be quite a lot of danger.
"We understand the importance of the ceremony," 'Ardbert' interjects. DON'T WE, LAHABREA? He seems to have adopted a wry smile once he turned back to the witch. "I will make sure no witch who conducts it comes to lasting harm."
Keyword: Lasting.
"Ah, then yes. And if I may, you two are Mirrorbound, lest my eyes deceive?" One is undergoing a Monster's transformation and thus not a native, on top of dragons being rare as it is. The other is wearing gear and bearing a weapon in a fashion not typical to Geardagas and besides, Elidibus did attend an orientation not long ago. He stood out a bit with the amaro. There will, of course, be a nod of affirmation from the Emissary.
"Liam handles many such circumstances. Let me send a message then." The elderly witch picks up the pen from the inkwell and writes out a missive to paper. He folds it to the rough shape of a bird whilst murmuring words of an incantation, at the end of which transforms the into a small glowing sparrow-shaped creature. "To Liam you go," the receptionist commands and the bird takes its short flight with the requested conditions to find out if Liam is indeed available.
Elidibus is not the first person Lahabrea has said he intends to eat.
He will not be the last.
"I am not offended," is the only thing the ascian actually has to add to what he's already said, which may or may not be reassuring. Certainly dragons had prickly senses of pride and were often temperamental, but if he's agitated by the occasional giggle that can still be heard, there's really little sign of it, even where masks and robes don't disguise. Maybe it really is safe.
Or as safe as anything gets around Bringers of Chaos. And now there isn't just one of them, tamed by faith in mortals.
Now there's three, and two are far less kindly disposed.
As the little bright message wings off, it is watched with brief interest - not unlike some things he'd once used, long, long ago. But there was little use for them lately, and even less so now that he COULDN'T. But it seems the message does find where it's going, because rather quickly that coughing, giggling young witch turns up again, doing his best to straighten out his appearance as quickly and neatly as he can. He could be any one of hundreds of men in the city, unremarkable in appearance, tousle-haired and bright eyed, with a scattering of freckles and a genuine smile that shows a lone missing tooth to one side.
"Please accept my apologies, sirs. I would be delighted to see you both Bonded! And so soon after your arrival, didn't I see you in the recent orientation class? Please come this way." It is fairly obvious these two aren't overflowing with love for each other, so it's not one of those Bonds, and that's just fine - it seems Liam's not about to wait long, waving them to follow him. Lahabrea considers this for a long moment before actually doing as bidden, still quiet. "For formality's sake, you do understand what Bonding is, and the step you are about to take? If either of you are being coerced or are unwilling, the magic will not work."
It does have the sense of formality - but at least the Coven is intelligent enough to ask, especially with those so obviously newly arrived.
But Liam's also only waiting for the inevitable affirmative, whereupon he plows ahead; while his voice is carefully modulated, his gestures are wide and sweeping, and he seems as delighted as he said he was. It doesn't take long to reach a quiet side room for them; it's fairly nicely appointed, but doesn't have the sense of lavish celebration that say ... a romantic bond might otherwise be ushered into. "I will be tethering your magical signatures to each other, the very essences of your beings. This will not be painful, but it may be a little disorienting if you've never experienced something like it. If at some point in the future you so choose, the bond may be dissolved; it is not permanent unless you wish it to be. But as I am certain you both have heard before, the benefits are enormous to both of you! As you've chosen to take this step, I'm sure you're both well aware."
Soft blue-violet light begins burning a circle into the floor at a gesture from the young witch. "Please step inside once you are ready to confirm willingness to bind yourself to your partner, and join hands. ..Er, ungloved would be ideal. If you have vows prepared, you may recite them."
Wait, vows?
They need vows? Lahabrea pauses just on the other side of the circle, underlit by the glowing magic. "Is that necessary?"
"...Um. Not. ... Precisely as such, no, but it's encouraged."
Elidibus is far more indifferent to the message's existence. A glance maybe, and a study of the casting itself as though seeking to learn by observation. But the bright bird brings no joy, and no memory. It seems tonight his pretense of mortality only extends to speaking capacity. But with Lahabrea attracting most of the attention, any lack in his acting ability will probably go unnoticed for the most part. The answer which follows Liam's question is spoken good-naturedly enough, though its actual content is... pragmatic.
"Yes, I have not been long in this world. My colleague, whom I've known from before, has been here longer. After a discussion, we saw no reason to delay a Bonding any further." This is definitely not romantic, though it is pretty much the truth. He follows after the other witch and the dragon.
A slight smile follows his question. "I have looked into the matter thoroughly. Unless my companion suddenly feels otherwise, then you can be assured we are neither coerced or unwilling to proceed." Elidibus seems to sober a bit. "If the truth is otherwise, then we must simply revisit the discussion until we can proceed." The Emissary doesn't look toward Lahabrea in any significant way. He simply presumes the Speaker is willing and uncoerced, or that they will need to retreat and talk more about it. After all, what other choice is really left to them? One hinges on another Ascian chancing to be brought forth. The other, a possibility that is abhorrent to them both.
Does becoming the vessel for the will of a God count for similarity? Perhaps not. But there is a brief flit of amusement across Elidibus' unmasked features as he thinks of whether anything will top the sensation of that moment, no matter how different. There are things one does not ever forget. He does nod in acceptance of the warning, but gives nothing else. Perhaps a glance to Lahabrea, simply because of the knowledge of what happened shortly before the Speaker's demise. But Lahabrea himself would not know, would he?
Elidibus steps to the edge of the circle and likewise halts. Wait, did Liam say ungloved? The Ascian looks closely for any signs that this was in error. Vows, too. They're encouraged, and this world has its magic couched with incantation more often than not. So there might be some merit in a few basic words even if tedious. But... "I understand the merit of vows. We could simply repeat the basic intent behind our goal. But.... join hands?" Join ungloved hands at that? Stop looking at the guy like he just said the rudest thing, Emissary. So Elidibus looks toward Lahabrea, to see if his colleague had indeed heard the same thing.
Edited (This called for the taken aback icon.) Date: 2021-01-13 04:59 am (UTC)
Lahabrea's tail gives a lone, brief, amused swish at the idea that anyone could possibly compel him to do something he didn't actually want to. If he really had no interest at all, he wouldn't have made the long and miserable walk here! It did well enough for the Coven's efforts though - surely there were those that were coerced or forced, now and again, by some domineering or guilt-causing hypothetical partner. "I do not think our current arrangement requires alteration."
There is always, of course, a 'yet' on there.
He knows nothing of what happens with Igeyorhm mere hours after his disappearance, and he has not asked. Certainly some people in this city would be glad to tell him if it would twist a knife somewhere, but he's disinclined to seek out some flawed and obviously distorted future even by way of knowledge! It's for the best, really. That defeat was ... in some ways, worse than this humiliation was.
Better to deal with the intricacies of some foreign spellcraft. He could manage vows easily enough in some measure, if only to satisfy the demands of magecraft, and while the rest is certainly odd to think about it can't be required without reason either. "Touch enhances some of our own magic," he points out mildly, "Making the transfer of aether quicker and cleaner. Pray don't claim to be concerned about decency now after running around bare faced and dressing like that at least since arriving here."
Liam considers the way Elidibus is dressed for a long silent moment. The implication in Lahabrea's words was clearly that somehow Elidibus is outright indecent, but .... it looks ... pefectly ordinary to him? And rather well suited to winter, at that. "Er."
He's young enough to be thrown off by this sort of thing, clearly, but scrambles to regain composure. "Ah, er, yes, that exactly. You'll be bound by your magic itself shortly, surely you can tolerate touching each other for a short time..?" His tone is one slightly of pleading. "It really does make things go quite a bit easier."
One hand is offered, the smile beneath Lahabrea's mask a thin twist of irony. "Come then, let us see this done. We daily make promises and swear oaths and drive relentlessly to return to us what was lost, to soothe the suffering of eons and the voices of millions. What is one more? Let us add this tiny victory to the list of the seven that have shaken the firmament and reminded would-be Goddesses that we have not yet been broken and defeated." Should Elidibus take the offered hand - the glitter of earlier dusted gold is easier to understand, his fingers and palm are rough with minute, delicate-seeming scales. "This star will not drive us down to dust when all we have endured til now has not."
Touch can also be done with gloves! And certainly no one expects Elidibus to remember moments when... ah yes, there's that familiar sign of brief confusion where the Emissary tries to piece his gut reaction with some old memory and will fail. What was it that much of an issue, really? They did what they needed to do, Ascians, for the goal they all shared.
Elidibus straightens up and begins to take off his gloves. Lahabrea is given an even look for his reminder about the state of his dress. Yes, the face of the warrior he'd taken host of was bare, but he had at least left on the cloak for some semblance of robes. Only the hood had been pulled down and it's not going to be drawn back up. The thick gloves are tucked around a belt at his waist.
He steps into the circle and reaches out with both hands. One clasps the other Lahabrea proffered, feeling the scales underneath and the blunt talons curling about, undoubtedly with some care. He doesn't flinch over that. His other hand... waits like a counter offer. And when he speaks, it as if to answer the words of his fellow Ascian with his own vow. And it is with the voice of the Emissary himself rather than the mortal.
"I will remain steadfast to my duty and role. No physical change, nor mental state will prevent me from reaching out and offering succor those who are my charge in this long night. For I am the Emissary, to bring the will of our God, hopes and salvation of our people, our star. We will return. We will succeed. This is my promise to you."
Liam asked for vows, for tactile connection. And he got them.
Liam doesn't judge people on their vows, or how they choose to hold hands, or what they mean to each other, he's here to do his job! And share a little bit in the joy of a bond, even if peripherally and even if the two involved don't quite know what they're in for yet. It was always wonderful, surely! And this time was ... not as odd as some other things he's seen, so the young witch keeps his mouth SHUT.
He simply waits until both are in the circle of magic, and are as prepared as any may hope to get. No sooner does Lahabrea, with a sigh, take the other offered hand in his own, that Liam sets to work.
Lahabrea can't sense magic and aether the way he used to. He can't see or experience the same way the feeling of having someone draw on his very soul with an ease that feels strange and practiced, as if it has happened countless times before, as if they were in the hands of someone as old and familiar with this as they were and not the mid-twenties enthusiastic youngster they were actually dealing with. It's a deliberate choice on Liam's part to add the tiniest of additional power to it so the spell is visible to both monster and untrained witch, a reaching tendril of pale luminescence to wind around first Elidibus and then Lahabrea from the ground up, almost vinelike, spreading, entangling, moving inward to twine around what they called magical essence but everyone else called a soul and gently wind two separate and distinct presences together somewhere in the middle in braiding loops.
The faint ribbon of pale luminescence stretched between them stains darker towards a familiar purply obsidian rapidly - how could it not, with both so intimately sworn to the service of the God of Darkness? All it is, is another thing to bind them - on Lahabrea's end a sanguine undercurrent, like runners of fire beneath, the network of magical threads on Elidibus' edged in muted cerulean, changing to a shade of dark violet somewhere in the middle as the ribbons of bond meet and then tangle together. First merely sorcery, and then the incursion of someone else's emotion. Faint or strong, that depends on the newly bonded pair.
The wash of darkness remains. It always will.
The illusory light fades, but the connection that simply hadn't been there before doesn't.
There is no sudden unexpected awareness of another's emotions as strong as his own, he can't sense or hear Elidibus' thoughts or memories, just the faintest certainty of other and the connected feelings therein. It's strangely familiar, in a way that touching some mortal's soul never could be.
But.
For the first time in weeks, the almost intolerable drowning tide of fury and hatred that has boiled beneath the surface of every thought and action, the insufferably fragile temper that has edged every thought and action, harder and harder to resist, harder to strangle back into anything like common decency and breaking like the most fragile skim of ice every time the full moons encroached..
For the first time in an eternity of bitter, solitary struggle: stillness.
Liam seems to have been a wiser choice than his initial levity and youth made it appear. At least as much as an Ascian would regard a mortal. He does seem to have an instinct to know what to say, when to say it, to keep the two Ascians in a receptive mood for his officiating the ceremony.
Elidibus finds the touch of hands foreign. Fortunately, there are distractions to keep him from lingering on it for overlong. There wouldn't be any gazing into the eyes of each other, this Bonding. Elidibus seems interested more in the process itself. It is a struggle to sense or follow everything properly though. Eons have ingrained how to reach out and manipulate aether and it simply does not apply in this world, for all the spoken principle seems the same. And what was once visual and almost tangible is... sensation. Variance of pressures interacting and twining and stitching with his own internal aether. Smoothly, with precision that belies a mortal's capacity. Mayhap Liam and Lahabrea both will hear the Emissary catch his breath as the binding is given a physical manifest.
But was it his emotion of losing the ability to see aether in this form, or Lahabrea's as their souls bind? Perhaps both of them. For half a moment, there is true grief. Not stress, or nothingness or anger. It is soon gone, for the void that exists in Elidibus is a deep abyss.
To see the connection to their God so strong- how could it be anything else, with Liam unknowing and certainly not capable of intentional illusion- is met with a trace of relief. It is still there, part of his aether, part of Lahabrea's. Familiar and right. The 'pressure' of Lahabrea's aether wrapping around Elidibus'. And it is not at all uncomfortable.
No matter how distant their Bond is, for all there's a void of 'nothing' within him from all that is lost, the impact of another's emotions upon the Emissary is still profound. His bare hands suddenly squeeze Lahabrea's, suggesting he is forcing himself to hold on, rather than release at such a crucial moment while the new Bond settles. For others, it may been nothing, really. To Elidibus, it is a moment of emotions long alien to him, particularly of such intensity. The rage, the hatred. The instincts Lahabrea has been fighting against alone for who knows how long. Elidibus exhales a breath he hadn't been holding when the moment passes, when the Speaker finally finds the peace of silence that comes with the binding of dragon and witch.
He's visibly shaken in the aftermath. Where Lahabrea finds the peace of sudden silence, Elidibus finds himself trembling a little. His flesh lightly clammy. It wouldn't take him long to recover. It never does. But that he showed it at all...
After those said few moments to recover, he frames a statement.
"Frequent touch will strengthen your bond over time. ...I'll leave you two alone now," is the soft voice of the young witch, not willing to interrupt. "Take as much time as you need, and leave at your leisure. If you need anything at all, assistance is nearby." But hanging around to just watch and get in the way right after a bond is .. well, rude! And occasionally leads to eye-opening circumstances when certain pairs decide to consummate their new relationship in exciting ways.
These two don't seem too inclined towards that, but Liam isn't going to take chances. And a little privacy doesn't hurt so soon after something as life altering as a bond. He's quick to escape back out the door - but he will indeed be around outside in case anything further is needed. Just in case.
What he's said has been heard, but other than a slight nod of acknowledgment, Lahabrea's quite content to get the stranger out of their midst, no matter how helpful he'd been these last several minutes. Emotion at all in the Emissary has long been unusual, and if there was that is usually only a dim, dull anger at Hydaelyn and all She'd wrought for all external observation's sign. Not that in truth he'd paid a lot of attention for quite a while now. Had any of them? Did he know a reason the first thing to flicker across their link would be grief?
Patience is afforded him only because of the quiet that had for now subsumed the feral undercurrent, that he has the clarity of thought and ability to consider the tremor in Elidibus' hands, the faint cold sweat of scaleless hands against his own. How long had it been since anyone saw as much in the staunchly stoic Emissary?
How long had it been since he himself could weigh anything at all with a clear mind and calm spirit?
Ages.
Maybe before Amaurot fell. Maybe.
Almost absently, as if it could somehow warm the clammy skin, Lahabrea turns his hands so Elidibus' are folded between his own. It won't help much, not with the cause not being the room's temperature at all. Touch enhances the bond, hm?
"Don't fall over," the elder ascian murmurs, "They might still be watching."
.... Yes, that's the right thing to say right now, absolutely.
"Yes." The simple word is Elidibus' acknowledgement to Liam. Half of what was spoken probably hasn't really penetrated. The grief, to have a moment's true sight returned to him. Then grief, to know that the emotions he felt will vanish again, like all his memories eventually fade. Can he even hope to remember what this bond felt like? Even now, it is becoming dim.
They might still be watching. Elidibus closes his eyes momentarily and gathers himself to straighten to his full height. Which, as has been mentioned before, is more in keeping now with that long lost time in Amaurot. Though the expression on the Emissary's face turned up to Lahabrea is a far cry from that which Elidibus would have normally shown, then.
"No doubt." If not watching, listening even if it was mostly for the sake of either of them to call Liam back for questions. Elidibus does not let go of Lahabrea's hands. Nor does he try to pull away when the Speaker's hands wrap and try to warm away the cold sweat.
"Can you feel it?" The sensation of the Bond. It is so obvious to him, but the Emissary has no idea how it is for one who has been fated to become this world's Monster. "Our aether is surely as bound as any Prime might experience. Yet, I find I am still wholly myself at the same time." Of course, it is early yet, this experience. "Has our goal met with success?" Does Lahabrea find his mind stable? Certainly, there's a... smoother, cleaner feel to his own aether than before. It seemed easier to reach for, too.
Though it is not physical cold that had caused his chill, within Lahabrea's scaled hands, the Ascian's are becoming warm and dry again. It is... comforting, emotionally, to have this contact. Elidibus is likely unable to process 'comfort'. But it is there nonetheless.
There is at least, a small hope that with being trapped in this world, bereft of his primal nature, that the lamentable tendency towards forgetting will begin to fade as surely as the unusually violent undercurrent of Lahabrea's own impulses has dimmed. Maybe even moreso, with another to share the burden with. That might be something wonderful on its own - simply remembering something, even an inconsequential thing, long after it would have normally slipped away.
Time would tell.
"I feel.." The word draws itself out into silence, as it's considered for a long, long moment, head tilting back slightly as if listening for some faintly heard sound. What did he feel? What was there? What had changed, what hadn't?
The moment stretches into a solid minute. "Quiet," is the eventual conclusion, barely a murmur. He's not sure it counts as success, it's just that foreign even to his base nature. It has been quite a while since temper hadn't been a problem if he weren't careful, this sudden lack could be returning to a baseline, or he's simply so far off his base of reference that he doesn't recognize it anymore.
"There is, now and again, a suggestion of an emotion that I am certain isn't mine. But far less than I might have expected with how some talk."
There's a stillness to feeling that Elidibus brought that is nigh foreign, Lahabrea's emotions had never really dimmed across the ages, they'd merely shifted towards the harsher range. This momentary muting is strange and unfamiliar but not unwelcome even if it doesn't ... quite ... mute everything. The Speaker was unstable long before this city stole him into the world, and that undercurrent of delicate, fragile control remains. And may even be detectable, the way energy hums almost tangibly beneath a broken but not entirely severed wire. '...I will know better, in ... a handful of weeks."
When the lunar pull exerts its inevitable force again.
But still ... he did expect more, though there might not be more - Elidibus didn't, maybe couldn't as yet, feel anything else. And for one so used to the sway of constant emotion.. it's strange.
"...For the sake of a learning experience.." His tone is still quiet, but they're close enough where the sound is easy enough to detect. Effortless, really. "Let us find something that brings to mind some strong feeling. Not all has been lost to the ages, after all."
Without much emotion to feel, Elidibus could say his life is constantly quiet. But he would not. It is instead empty and now... less so. Which... gives him understanding that Lahabrea's experience gives different results. "You are a constant presence," the Emissary remarks thoughtfully. He too is quiet in speech, delving for the proper words. "Not... a voice. Or something I can see. I believe I sensed.. a hint of what you have been dealing with since your arrival here. But not memories or thoughts. And yet you remain, not just a sum of emotions. I believe the twined aether the young witch gave was no mere imagining."
All is faint then. Not a strong, close Bond. But it functions for now. They can proceed with observation from here. Elidibus makes due note of the faint sensation which still comes through, of the thin and fraying bit of control which remains to Lahabrea. It's strange, he feels. He understands what it portrays, in the same way he had gleaned the Speaker's mental instability during the eons they had spent together. So it doesn't cause him to express an emotion to be felt, as it might to find it so recently discovered. Rather, his determination becomes that much more difficult to sway. It may be worth looking into ways to deepen their bond, that he might offer some more of his own self to bolster that fragile control.
"Ah yes, the full moon," Elidibus offers as confirmation that he has learned about the different phases of the moon and their effects on Monsters versus the Mirrorbound witches. "I'm told then that my magicks will be weakened then. But during the new moon in several days, I will have an abundance of power." And a lessened control over his emotions. He doesn't want to say this aloud. He also isn't quite convinced he can't control his emotional state. But it seems he should. Although his tone is dry. "There seems to be some... potential for heightened emotions. Be forewarned."
Yes. Heightened emotions. From Elidibus. Anything that's virtually zero, when multiplied... It seems a poor jest. Please ignore his future fascination with social media.
The Emissary looks up at his taller colleague. He seems intrigued at the thought. Trying to invoke a strong emotion? Well, he has had some specific events in the recent past that he could bring to mind, certainly. Tactile contact does help. And they've come this far holding hands with no ill effects. But, almost reluctantly, he starts to draw his hands away from Lahabrea's. This can be stopped, if desired.
"I agree," he says in kind. "But... not here." There are some things one does not absolutely do in front of mortals. Or with mortals nearby. Or indeed, with other Ascians nearby, though that latter nearly doesn't matter here. It does however, bring to mind something almost akin to a joke.
"I do not know that I wish to let him yet know we Bonded," Elidibus comments. "But given such circumstances as we know them, I do not doubt a visit to Emet-Selch could bring up a fair amount of emotional turmoil." Surely Emet-Selch could guess it would be inevitable. But the third of the Unsundered trio has certainly kept his distance thus far. It would probably be better to be sure of a few factors before they encounter him again.
There's a huff that might be an aborted laugh at the very thought of something like the moon affecting Elidibus so much that there might be tangible emotions across their bond. He doesn't challenge it, he's not a witch and has no idea what the lunar pull feels like to them. "That will be handled when it occurs." And not until then! Even though it's not really that long away. Surely like monsters, it took time to build up to the worst of it.
It's almost distracting, the way he could think without the constant certainty that those around him are actively going out of their way to get under his skin. There was supposed to be more to it than this, more ... gratitude, more emotion or intention or .. something, he's sure of it, but he keeps circling around to distraction.
"Will my home do, or do you prefer somewhere further afield? They hesitate to let unbonded leave the city." But that's no longer an issue and more importantly not far away is the heat of summer, not the bitter chill of winter and it's almost tempting to suggest they go--
... It's true. Emet-Selch would certainly bring up emotions one way or another. And if Elidibus were influenced by Lahabrea, or worse, the beast trapped in the back of his mind, would that instigate something further even in the stoic emissary? "I suspect he'll discern that on his own fairly swiftly," Lahabrea notes after a long moment of puzzling that over. "Especially if it is so that a monster enhances this or that in a witch, beyond a normal capacity. ... But he is ... not likely to be interested in either of us disrupting the life he's made himself here, so I wonder whom would be experiencing that turmoil. Us, or him."
Reclaiming his hands, Elidibus calmly pulls his gloves back on. "Yes." Emotional surges will be handled when or if they happen. He does recognize there is a great deal to learn about this mortal body and how it affects him, now that he's sealed in it. But that should be different from the will.
Normally.
The Emissary is giving the choice of outside the town or in the privacy of Lahabrea's home due consideration. "I believe privacy is in order this time. So unless you have access to something as secure or more outside of the city, let us return to your home." There is more than just privacy to consider, however. "I am still weakened by my transference." Magic still eludes Elidibus in all but some very simple cantrips. For instance, should you need him to light a candle, he's your man... "Though I have suitable knowledge to use the physical skills of this body, it will likely prove inefficient." There's too much here which would not fall to purely physical weapons strikes not empowered with aether. "You would need to be prepared to defend me. And it would not be a conducive environment for experiments with invoking emotion."
Of Emet-Selch, Elidibus doesn't have much more to say. If he were anyone else, he might also have had to disguise humor. As it is, Lahabrea is merely given a sidelong glance. "Hm. I suppose that would not benefit this experiment. And I suspect that the any emotion that might be generated between you and I would be... similar, should certain matters be confirmed." Elidibus steps to the door, obviously intending to depart whatever decision they make on the change of location. "Emet-Selch has also been here a year's time. This should be kept in mind."
As a 'Witch', their fellow Ascian has far more experience than Elidibus, should matters escalate to the worst possible outcome.
"What is a year?" And that's definitely something like scorn in his tone. "What is ten, or a decade or a century? A year is meaningless." Time ... simply works differently when one has eons with which to do what needed to be done, the mere passage of a handful of seasons was nothing. Less than nothing. An eyeblink at best, unmemorable and irrelevant. "Naught else is of import in the span of a mere year save he has a bit of a head start on you when it comes to mastering this place's piteous version of magic." Lahabrea tucks his hands up his sleeves, tail making a brief sideways gesture that somehow manages to convey dull amusement. "And as he is not wont to spend all that time studying, I would venture to say that's a gap you'll close quickly with some application of your unerring focus."
He might be mistaken in that much, Emet-Selch certainly has very good reasons to actually apply his considerable experience and familiarity with magic, when stripped of so much.
But old habits die hard.
"The rest will see to itself in a mere handful of decades. But if you wish to confront him on his questionable relationship with the Warrior of Light, I'm certain it would be a lively event and to the best that I not accompany such a venture, for just that reason." It seems he's content to follow for the moment; home is a fair way off and it was going to be a long and second time awkward walk. Maybe if he was lucky the changes would continue and he'd at least be able to move around comfortably again. "Fear not. This is no great trouble that we cannot contend with."
Tilting his head as though listening, Elidibus is also giving due consideration to the little flickers of emotion attached to Lahabrea's words which still come through the Bond despite the lack of contact. None of it is enough to disrupt his calm by far. A gap he'll surely close. Perhaps in some aspects. Others, however...
Elidibus raises his hand palm upward. Can the flow of spellcasting be felt through the Bond? Have a spontaneous test, though that is not the purpose, "Oh Flame." he intones. There is displeasure felt and underscoring the use of words. The reason is clear when the results manifest after he continues. "Manifest in my palm that this pitiful world may be given the benefit of your Light." His palm remains steady and a flicker of flame no better than dull candlelight manifests just above his palm. He is quick to use his other hand to shield it from stray drafts, that it doesn't snuff out immediately.
Even then, it is gone moments later and the Emissary lets out a soft gasp of air. Through Bond and appearance, even that small bit of 'magic' had taken a decent toll on him to control. "This... Lahabrea, is the magic of this world. Keep this in mind as well, going forth."
Lahabrea is certainly not wrong in thinking a year is not much, that Elidibus won't be putting his focus on reclaiming even this pitiful form of magic ability. But the Emissary seems intent on conveying the thought that Emet-Selch may indeed have been given motivation to focus his efforts. He was, after all, the most powerful mage of them all.
Though he tries to hide it, Elidibus's first step in continuing out of the room is a trifle unsteady.
"You tell me nothing I do not know. You are less than a novice at the moment, mayhap somewhere below the average toddler, thanks to the vast and overwhelming experience of a fortnight." He doesn't sound impressed. Elidibus had only just arrived, after all, mastering anything at all would be unexpected in the extremes. "I have seen more of what the mages of this world are capable of than you have - mayhap also keep that in mind."
There's no real heat in it, though there's a faint touch of annoyance. "If in the state you are in you consider magic to be the recourse if we must for some reason come to blows against our own kind, then you have forgotten some vital lessons indeed." Whatever those steps are trying to hide, there is a weakness that must not be displayed to others - and now it's his responsibility too. His voice drops as he deliberately steps close, looping one arm quite deliberately through Elidibus'. "Lean a little if you must. Let them think we are every other besotted bonded in this miserable place, and they will not see what I do."
A flaw. An exploitable weakness. Something that must not be allowed.
And then his tone is right back to where it was before. "Lest you forget, that ridiculously oversized axe is your primary defense and offense for likely quite a while. Utilize it. If you need lessons.. I remember enough of hand to hand fighting, I think, to chase you about. If you wish to surprise a sorcerer, you do not meet him on an even playing field. You punch him."
"I simply do not wish to judge this year's difference as insignificant. Not until I am sure." Elidibus closes his eyes while Lahabrea speaks the truth. But they are quick to open and look up with a somewhat started expression when the Speaker sacrifices propriety and normal action to slip an arm through Elidibus' own in the name of support. You've surprised him, Lahabrea.
He speaks not of weakness. He's already shown enough, to one of his own, where he should be the one standing as the supportive pillar. Mayhap, Elidibus wonders, he's been shaken by the experience more than he realized.
"But no. I would not think magic to be something to turn to for now." He...starts to lean a little as both continue further on. The contact is not as it was when it was bare hands, but it does invoke a muted sense of 'closeness'. Elidibus ignores it, this time- or so he tells himself.
"I was able to make practical the skills of this warrior's body before my arrival here." Muscle memory did a lot to help. Fragments of observations, previous combat experience also gave Elidibus a hand up. Still, "Though I will not reject your offer." Tactics, sparring, regular practice. They will be welcomed.
To punch Emet-Selch. There's some considerable thought on that. Possibly all the time it takes to pass by Liam and be public again. And with the public eye comes Ardbert's voice again. His humor and amusement which, thanks to the Bond, Lahabrea can feel soul-deep is nothing more than a mask. Though he already knew that, didn't he? "I certainly see that would surprise the illustrious Emet-Selch, if I were to punch him."
Already it's seeming a distant notion. Why would they, truly, come to blows? Between the three Unsundered, no matter how different their views became, they were steadfast in their goal to restore Lord Zodiark.
'Remember us.' Or so that Scion boy had said of Emet-Selch's last words. Elidibus grows silent and loses some of the facade as he retreats into his thoughts.
It's a little awkward. His knees still don't work right, and touch alone is strange, but it will be endured. Must be endured, or else. It could be worse. The change in temperament as soon as there is a public to see is no surprise, nor is it surprising that there's no actual emotion attached to the act. He felt nothing he'd displayed while running around as Thancred, after all, and Elidibus was less prone to feeling ... anything at all.
But he doesn't play along; such friendliness and humor simply wasn't necessary. There's an acknowledging nod to Liam, who beams at the pair, apparently quite pleased with himself. "He is still our ally, for all that he seems to want a .. 'vacation'." The reminder isn't ungentle. "We have the same goals, the same God. Preparedness is not harmful, but it is best to not cause the very problem that is feared. He cannot pick the Warrior of Light over his own kind, it is impossible." Tempering would see to that. They simply couldn't deviate. Never would. This temporary inconvenience was just that.
But being prepared for a scuffle or two wasn't likely a bad idea, at least until said Warrior of Light finally died. "Mayhap we simply need to reassure him that he may take his ... mechanical companion with him back to the Source or wherever else he seeks to go."
Keep his pet! And stop being an idiot! That will surely work. Zodiark didn't care much for what species someone was, after all.. so long as they were loyal.
Settling, seeing to set order to his thoughts, Elidibus is still aware. And remembers Lahabrea's own faltering gait as the two move forward. Without a word, the lean of his body shifts to something more supportive. Subtle or maybe not to Liam's watching eyes. But the Witch boy can assume and now the two Ascians can seem to walk steadily out into the night.
Vacation. Rest. Yes, Emet-Selch had been settling in to sleep for a while after his stint as Solus zos Galvus. Before Elidibus arrived and informed him of the news that Lahabrea was gone. Emet-Selch had gone to do his duty rather than settle into a century or two of slumber. Perhaps he is due this rest. Perhaps.
The good cheer does fade from Elidibus' voice when next he speaks, but he does not switch back to his own. "Even if he sought reconciliation in some form, as we are, so too is the Warrior of Light in this world. It may well be possible now, to bring her into the fold ere she returns to bask in Hydaelyn's graces." Would that not be a fitting symbol? To wrest the Goddess' champion out of her clutches and into the embrace of Lord Zodiark?
His recovery seems fairly quick, though still he remains silently in support of Lahabrea's gait, for as long as it takes the Ascian to notice and pull away. "In such pursuits, mayhap her Bond with Emet-Selch will prove useful. Though I imagine for now, each are keeping the other in check." But just one little tipping of the scales between their aether...
Elidibus does, for now, note the nagging unease these thoughts bring. Not for the sanctity of the Bond being abused. By why hadn't Emet-Selch's fully whole self not already overwhelmed the Warrior of Light's. But it will not be voiced. Not until he finds out more.
Perhaps Emet-Selch simply keeps the full force of his aether from overwhelming the Bond. Perhaps it is another of this Star's seals. Sigh. So much to be done.
"There is much to learn, Lahabrea. I hope you are prepared."
From anyone else that would have been an order. From Elidibus, it is interchangeable with the question, 'You will... help me, right?'
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2021-01-12 06:27 pm (UTC)Then there's the matter that has the Emissary on tenterhooks and yes, Lahabrea is the subject of one of Elidibus' rare bouts of visible ire. Well, mostly rare. Of late, he's been showing emotion more often, mostly involving encounters with the Warrior of Light he knows. Or Warrior of Darkness, as it now goes. As he listens to the Speaker further elaborate on the reasons for this unpleasant venture, the tension begins to dissipate. It's a wholly reasonable notion and one he can compare to his own research to verify. Memories, themselves, do get exchanged in a bond. And it helps that Lahabrea says 'we'. So he fully intends to share in this farce. Not simply for the sake of some sentimental 'the reasons for the importance of their purpose' for all it will hurt to forget again but as a mere clinical sorting of whose memories belong to whom. To a point, anyway. After all there is a large swath of time Elidibus will simply be unable to verify.
Maybe it occurs to the Ascian that in itself would be easy enough to sort out on his end without the use of the stone. Just about everything from the beginning is gone, leaving anything else, apart from a few tattered fragments, solely Lahabrea's perspective. But it wars with the deep desire to really remember all that is lost, no matter how painful. To KNOW what more those fragments would say. Something he never would have given form to consider, had he not been brought to Aefenglom.
"Your reasoning is exemplary, Lahabrea," Elidibus answers, in a notably more calm state. "While it may be unpleasant, it will serve a purpose. Let me once again agree to your conditions, without rancor. I will be sure to steel my resolve, when the time comes."
Just... once. Just once wouldn't hurt too much. Right?
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Date: 2021-01-12 06:50 pm (UTC)But everything Amaurot would be recalled, even if the intervening thousands of years lay forgotten. There would be more of a struggle to determine what and when the rest outlined .. but he could deal with that when it arose, if he still had a mind to do so. Perhaps by then the dragon would be fully in control, and dragons were so certain of how flawless their memories were that they held grudges across centuries for things done by people long since dust. People who even through the effort of the Ascians, would not return. Not in their piteous fragmented states, those lives swept away by the experience of far older souls.
He has far more reservations than spoken about, but other than a thinning of the lips it's not really easy to tell there's lingering displeasure. This too was weakness, wasn't it? Having to rely on others to simply keep being able to string words together in a coherent fashion.
It was pathetic. How he himself from eras past would have laughed at his current plight, so helpless as to be undone by the will of something other than Zodiark Himself.
Elidibus hadn't laughed, not yet. But he wasn't much prone to those emotions to begin with, not anymore. He had other ways of making displeasure known, and Lahabrea still waits for the inevitability of it. "Mayhap confronting it directly will make it less unpleasant when the time comes," the ascian mutters, scrubbing a hand over the lower part of his face. "I have oft found terrible things to be less so when challenged outright, and not simply allowed to skulk about in the back of one's mind like starving jackals darting in to snap at whatever thoughts they can wound." But that wouldn't be contended with for quite some time yet, as the stone he possessed was strangely inert.. which means this place somehow muffled even that.
Most people do not find Lahabrea's methods of contending with difficulty to be things worth emulating. More fragile things, and people, tend to break. "... When. Are you insisting this bonding be done."
no subject
Date: 2021-01-12 07:49 pm (UTC)There are weaknesses and risks that Elidibus doesn't elaborate upon as well, so they are equal in that. Perhaps some are similar. Such as how in a mere year of this world and its Bonds, Emet-Selch has become so enamored with mortality as to perhaps be swayed away from the path and Zodiark's will. Though admittedly the impossibility of that last makes it far from conscious thought for now. But dare they think to wait for a mortal century or so? If one year did this, what would one hundred of them do?
The limits of his own body's, too. Some thoughts on which have been mostly dismissed as irrelevant; there will surely be ways to extend the lifespan, once Ascian ingenuity and experience has been applied. But also that he would, on a course of magic he most certainly will not abstain from, explode from the over-production of aether without a Bond...
"There is no sense in delaying it further, now that we've reached a consensus. In a few days this period of a new moon will be upon us and I doubt the Coven will be performing ceremonies that are not of the utmost urgency."
The native magic being weakened, the Mirrorbound's being harder to control, supposedly. It sounded a deadly combination for any spell craft which required tying two souls together and would have both sides of the scale in play. He doubts the Coven would truly appreciate what's at stake.
So... now, then? Elidibus is certainly getting to his feet and giving Lahabrea a questioning look to see if he will continue to concur.
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Date: 2021-01-12 09:13 pm (UTC)There is a marked hesitance as Elidibus works on regaining his feet. 'Now' was ... inconvenient.
... It really wasn't.
Was this too a matter of faith? Not only that the degrading humiliation he's been faced with wouldn't somehow taint Elidibus too, but that the nascent witch could somehow spare him the worst of it? That even though nothing could prevent the warping of the vessel he wore, his soul could remain cleanly still ascian? They never were the shells they wrapped themselves in, this might be no different, if he could just ... keep his mind.
If the instincts that had driven even longer-changed dragons to try to kill each other over the city didn't likewise drown him out.
If.
Facing terrible things, indeed.
"...Very well."
It wasn't blind hope, there was precedent assuming things still worked the way they did with mortals, but it was perhaps the only hope he had, if laying his salvation at the feet of some hyur witch was as utterly unthinkable as it was. Eventually, he moves. It's not graceful, the tangle of robe and limb and tail, with the awkwardness of limbs and joints flexing in ways not yet familiar. Other things had changed, between a handful of days ago and now; the feet he balances on uneasily are no longer of a familiar plantigrade shape but fat-toed and starkly reptilian, easily spotted by the bright flash of color at the hem of his robes instead of solid, recognizable dark boots. Apparently rather recent indeed given how blunt he keeps the claws on his fingers, the new ones still come to wicked looking dangerous points. Whatever had shifted in his ankles and feet hasn't gotten higher yet, making movement problematic without cooperating knee joints and changed bone lengths in thigh and calf. He'll manage, but it won't be elegant.
Which is likely to be a severe affront to his ever-sensitive pride, but that would have to be dealt with.
no subject
Date: 2021-01-12 10:44 pm (UTC)Elidibus must impress upon a Coven witch that this is a matter of great importance, should any dare to suggest delaying matters. He nods to Lahabrea, not speaking of the matter, and turns to fetch his gear and set about donning it again for the journey.
An eye is kept on his fellow Unsundered during this time. The Emissary will not outright offer the indignity of supporting Lahabrea during their journey. But he will be ever near, keeping his own pace to the Speaker's and always being ready to catch him, should he start to fall. The matter of needing aid after all, seems the less appalling weakness than falling flat on one's face.
Their slow progress, yes. No amaro again, which in a way is fortunately, for she would not be likely capable of carrying both their weight far even grounded and her pace would be useless for the current circumstance. It has gotten on in the evening, as winter seasons bring darkness early still and so Elidibus had taken a lantern from Lahabrea's belongings once again, so he could light
histheir way. There would be an extravagant length of time in which to have doubts, second thoughts or general conversation.Elidibus intends to give no consideration of second thoughts. He will remain firm, even if something is voiced. And as he agreed to the terms Lahabrea presented, he expects there should be none spoken of aloud.
Of doubts, the Emissary will do as he always does of late. Dismiss them as irrelevant. At least those voiced to himself. What Lahabrea might bring up will be addressed, as that is Elidibus' duty.
'Small talk' is not really their way. Especially his way. They meet for business or important matters, they go back to their tasks. It would surprise Elidibus, if Lahabrea wished to engage in something so personal. He will not.
Only physical aid, should it prove needed. And a tendency to switch position with the Speaker depending on the wind's direction, acting as something of a break to added chill.
When the Coven headquarters is finally reached, there is still plenty of activity. And why not? With vampire related Bonds and research to be had at all hours, there's surely a night shift. It is pleasing though, to know there won't be reason for delay. The interior may not be as overly warm as Lahabrea's place, but it is pleasant, thanks to ample enchantments. Elidibus need not take off his layers immediately, though the hood of his cloak is pulled down.
The two will be noticed not long after entry. How could one not notice Lahabrea and a warrior with a giant axe? Particularly the former. The power of a dragon, even one not fully transformed, is highly sought after. Most turn away with varying stages of disappointment on noticing Elidibus at the dragon's side. Or at least possess a good, healthy respect for a dragon's temperament. A few still look on with a hopeful air. Perhaps it is a Bonded pair looking for another. The Emissary ignores the stares.
An elderly Coven witch is on duty for reception and is quick to draw attention to himself. "Greetings and welcome. How may the Coven assist you today?"
At least Elidibus isn't going to make the Speaker address the mortal. Using his host body's natural tones and an example of good-hearted cheer, he addresses the receptionist. "We wish to form a Bond. Is there a witch available to conduct the ceremony?"
no subject
Date: 2021-01-12 11:22 pm (UTC)More people could do well to learn the simple contentment in silence.
The only interruption is a good twenty minutes after they set out, stumbling and awkward, before he mutters a curse and steps sideways onto a less worn cobblestone street and spends a solid five minutes dragging his new talons across the stone, leaving deep grooves as he goes. But more importantly, those sharp, sticking tips are worn down or simply broken straight off. It's .. slightly easier going after that, or at least less stumbling; by the time they actually reach the other side of the city he's figured out better how to use that long rudderlike tail to aid a bit in balance.
It won't be entirely better until this misery's finished having its way with him, but it's somewhat less embarrassing.
While he does note that Elidibus keeps changing position based on where the wind is, he says nothing about it. He can feel the wind through his robes and the clothes underneath, the cold simply didn't bite the way it used to. The only blessing, he supposed, for the layer of feathers and scales, they seemed to work wonders as insulators.
The certainty this is not the best of ideas remains, aided not at all by the attention garnered as they finally arrive at the needed destination. He still strikes an ominous figure, fluffy dragon bits aside, and it's a stark contrast to Elidibus' feigned good cheer and Ardbert act, a silent and disapproving red-masked, bad tempered shadow.
Elidibus is allowed his act.
It is after all, important.
"Not the sort of witch inclined to officiate weddings. When we leave I intend to eat him."
Lahabrea's rasped addition to 'Ardbert's' pleasant and friendly request is anything but equally friendly and pleasant, and one of the younger witches off to the side chokes on his evening tea, coughing and giggling and quickly excusing himself before it gets any worse. Bonds don't kill each other, so obviously it's macabre humor, no matter how utterly seriously it's said.
The Speaker doesn't so much as twitch a feather at his now more distant giggles. "I want that one, if he knows the spell," he adds, almost as an afterthought.
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Date: 2021-01-13 12:06 am (UTC)Upon arrival and the subsequent events that follow, Elidibus slowly turns and looks up at Lahabrea, fixing him with a long look that might have a measure of its own disapproval. The elderly receptionist is given something of a fright by the absolute seriousness of the manner in which the dragon expresses his intentions. "I... I.. oh." Perhaps he too comes to the conclusion of it being a macabre joke. Not so much in the face of the witch who spit out his tea, but in the calm manner by which Elidibus reacts. He inhales and exhales to calm himself, before choosing to move on like a true professional.
"Liam? Why, he certainly knows the spell and I can see if he has time. I hope he has not offended you in any way, however," the receptionist studies both Elidibus and Lahabrea. Mostly Lahabrea, as if trying to scry the level of danger Liam might be in. There may still be giggling to be heard. So it may actually be quite a lot of danger.
"We understand the importance of the ceremony," 'Ardbert' interjects. DON'T WE, LAHABREA? He seems to have adopted a wry smile once he turned back to the witch. "I will make sure no witch who conducts it comes to lasting harm."
Keyword: Lasting.
"Ah, then yes. And if I may, you two are Mirrorbound, lest my eyes deceive?" One is undergoing a Monster's transformation and thus not a native, on top of dragons being rare as it is. The other is wearing gear and bearing a weapon in a fashion not typical to Geardagas and besides, Elidibus did attend an orientation not long ago. He stood out a bit with the amaro. There will, of course, be a nod of affirmation from the Emissary.
"Liam handles many such circumstances. Let me send a message then." The elderly witch picks up the pen from the inkwell and writes out a missive to paper. He folds it to the rough shape of a bird whilst murmuring words of an incantation, at the end of which transforms the into a small glowing sparrow-shaped creature. "To Liam you go," the receptionist commands and the bird takes its short flight with the requested conditions to find out if Liam is indeed available.
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Date: 2021-01-13 12:45 am (UTC)He will not be the last.
"I am not offended," is the only thing the ascian actually has to add to what he's already said, which may or may not be reassuring. Certainly dragons had prickly senses of pride and were often temperamental, but if he's agitated by the occasional giggle that can still be heard, there's really little sign of it, even where masks and robes don't disguise. Maybe it really is safe.
Or as safe as anything gets around Bringers of Chaos. And now there isn't just one of them, tamed by faith in mortals.
Now there's three, and two are far less kindly disposed.
As the little bright message wings off, it is watched with brief interest - not unlike some things he'd once used, long, long ago. But there was little use for them lately, and even less so now that he COULDN'T. But it seems the message does find where it's going, because rather quickly that coughing, giggling young witch turns up again, doing his best to straighten out his appearance as quickly and neatly as he can. He could be any one of hundreds of men in the city, unremarkable in appearance, tousle-haired and bright eyed, with a scattering of freckles and a genuine smile that shows a lone missing tooth to one side.
"Please accept my apologies, sirs. I would be delighted to see you both Bonded! And so soon after your arrival, didn't I see you in the recent orientation class? Please come this way." It is fairly obvious these two aren't overflowing with love for each other, so it's not one of those Bonds, and that's just fine - it seems Liam's not about to wait long, waving them to follow him. Lahabrea considers this for a long moment before actually doing as bidden, still quiet. "For formality's sake, you do understand what Bonding is, and the step you are about to take? If either of you are being coerced or are unwilling, the magic will not work."
It does have the sense of formality - but at least the Coven is intelligent enough to ask, especially with those so obviously newly arrived.
But Liam's also only waiting for the inevitable affirmative, whereupon he plows ahead; while his voice is carefully modulated, his gestures are wide and sweeping, and he seems as delighted as he said he was. It doesn't take long to reach a quiet side room for them; it's fairly nicely appointed, but doesn't have the sense of lavish celebration that say ... a romantic bond might otherwise be ushered into. "I will be tethering your magical signatures to each other, the very essences of your beings. This will not be painful, but it may be a little disorienting if you've never experienced something like it. If at some point in the future you so choose, the bond may be dissolved; it is not permanent unless you wish it to be. But as I am certain you both have heard before, the benefits are enormous to both of you! As you've chosen to take this step, I'm sure you're both well aware."
Soft blue-violet light begins burning a circle into the floor at a gesture from the young witch. "Please step inside once you are ready to confirm willingness to bind yourself to your partner, and join hands. ..Er, ungloved would be ideal. If you have vows prepared, you may recite them."
Wait, vows?
They need vows? Lahabrea pauses just on the other side of the circle, underlit by the glowing magic. "Is that necessary?"
"...Um. Not. ... Precisely as such, no, but it's encouraged."
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Date: 2021-01-13 04:59 am (UTC)"Yes, I have not been long in this world. My colleague, whom I've known from before, has been here longer. After a discussion, we saw no reason to delay a Bonding any further." This is definitely not romantic, though it is pretty much the truth. He follows after the other witch and the dragon.
A slight smile follows his question. "I have looked into the matter thoroughly. Unless my companion suddenly feels otherwise, then you can be assured we are neither coerced or unwilling to proceed." Elidibus seems to sober a bit. "If the truth is otherwise, then we must simply revisit the discussion until we can proceed." The Emissary doesn't look toward Lahabrea in any significant way. He simply presumes the Speaker is willing and uncoerced, or that they will need to retreat and talk more about it. After all, what other choice is really left to them? One hinges on another Ascian chancing to be brought forth. The other, a possibility that is abhorrent to them both.
Does becoming the vessel for the will of a God count for similarity? Perhaps not. But there is a brief flit of amusement across Elidibus' unmasked features as he thinks of whether anything will top the sensation of that moment, no matter how different. There are things one does not ever forget. He does nod in acceptance of the warning, but gives nothing else. Perhaps a glance to Lahabrea, simply because of the knowledge of what happened shortly before the Speaker's demise. But Lahabrea himself would not know, would he?
Elidibus steps to the edge of the circle and likewise halts. Wait, did Liam say ungloved? The Ascian looks closely for any signs that this was in error. Vows, too. They're encouraged, and this world has its magic couched with incantation more often than not. So there might be some merit in a few basic words even if tedious. But... "I understand the merit of vows. We could simply repeat the basic intent behind our goal. But.... join hands?" Join ungloved hands at that? Stop looking at the guy like he just said the rudest thing, Emissary. So Elidibus looks toward Lahabrea, to see if his colleague had indeed heard the same thing.
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Date: 2021-01-13 11:43 am (UTC)There is always, of course, a 'yet' on there.
He knows nothing of what happens with Igeyorhm mere hours after his disappearance, and he has not asked. Certainly some people in this city would be glad to tell him if it would twist a knife somewhere, but he's disinclined to seek out some flawed and obviously distorted future even by way of knowledge! It's for the best, really. That defeat was ... in some ways, worse than this humiliation was.
Better to deal with the intricacies of some foreign spellcraft. He could manage vows easily enough in some measure, if only to satisfy the demands of magecraft, and while the rest is certainly odd to think about it can't be required without reason either. "Touch enhances some of our own magic," he points out mildly, "Making the transfer of aether quicker and cleaner. Pray don't claim to be concerned about decency now after running around bare faced and dressing like that at least since arriving here."
Liam considers the way Elidibus is dressed for a long silent moment. The implication in Lahabrea's words was clearly that somehow Elidibus is outright indecent, but .... it looks ... pefectly ordinary to him? And rather well suited to winter, at that. "Er."
He's young enough to be thrown off by this sort of thing, clearly, but scrambles to regain composure. "Ah, er, yes, that exactly. You'll be bound by your magic itself shortly, surely you can tolerate touching each other for a short time..?" His tone is one slightly of pleading. "It really does make things go quite a bit easier."
One hand is offered, the smile beneath Lahabrea's mask a thin twist of irony. "Come then, let us see this done. We daily make promises and swear oaths and drive relentlessly to return to us what was lost, to soothe the suffering of eons and the voices of millions. What is one more? Let us add this tiny victory to the list of the seven that have shaken the firmament and reminded would-be Goddesses that we have not yet been broken and defeated." Should Elidibus take the offered hand - the glitter of earlier dusted gold is easier to understand, his fingers and palm are rough with minute, delicate-seeming scales. "This star will not drive us down to dust when all we have endured til now has not."
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Date: 2021-01-13 05:17 pm (UTC)Elidibus straightens up and begins to take off his gloves. Lahabrea is given an even look for his reminder about the state of his dress. Yes, the face of the warrior he'd taken host of was bare, but he had at least left on the cloak for some semblance of robes. Only the hood had been pulled down and it's not going to be drawn back up. The thick gloves are tucked around a belt at his waist.
He steps into the circle and reaches out with both hands. One clasps the other Lahabrea proffered, feeling the scales underneath and the blunt talons curling about, undoubtedly with some care. He doesn't flinch over that. His other hand... waits like a counter offer. And when he speaks, it as if to answer the words of his fellow Ascian with his own vow. And it is with the voice of the Emissary himself rather than the mortal.
"I will remain steadfast to my duty and role. No physical change, nor mental state will prevent me from reaching out and offering succor those who are my charge in this long night. For I am the Emissary, to bring the will of our God, hopes and salvation of our people, our star. We will return. We will succeed. This is my promise to you."
Liam asked for vows, for tactile connection. And he got them.
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Date: 2021-01-13 08:09 pm (UTC)He simply waits until both are in the circle of magic, and are as prepared as any may hope to get. No sooner does Lahabrea, with a sigh, take the other offered hand in his own, that Liam sets to work.
Lahabrea can't sense magic and aether the way he used to. He can't see or experience the same way the feeling of having someone draw on his very soul with an ease that feels strange and practiced, as if it has happened countless times before, as if they were in the hands of someone as old and familiar with this as they were and not the mid-twenties enthusiastic youngster they were actually dealing with. It's a deliberate choice on Liam's part to add the tiniest of additional power to it so the spell is visible to both monster and untrained witch, a reaching tendril of pale luminescence to wind around first Elidibus and then Lahabrea from the ground up, almost vinelike, spreading, entangling, moving inward to twine around what they called magical essence but everyone else called a soul and gently wind two separate and distinct presences together somewhere in the middle in braiding loops.
The faint ribbon of pale luminescence stretched between them stains darker towards a familiar purply obsidian rapidly - how could it not, with both so intimately sworn to the service of the God of Darkness? All it is, is another thing to bind them - on Lahabrea's end a sanguine undercurrent, like runners of fire beneath, the network of magical threads on Elidibus' edged in muted cerulean, changing to a shade of dark violet somewhere in the middle as the ribbons of bond meet and then tangle together. First merely sorcery, and then the incursion of someone else's emotion. Faint or strong, that depends on the newly bonded pair.
The wash of darkness remains. It always will.
The illusory light fades, but the connection that simply hadn't been there before doesn't.
There is no sudden unexpected awareness of another's emotions as strong as his own, he can't sense or hear Elidibus' thoughts or memories, just the faintest certainty of other and the connected feelings therein. It's strangely familiar, in a way that touching some mortal's soul never could be.
But.
For the first time in weeks, the almost intolerable drowning tide of fury and hatred that has boiled beneath the surface of every thought and action, the insufferably fragile temper that has edged every thought and action, harder and harder to resist, harder to strangle back into anything like common decency and breaking like the most fragile skim of ice every time the full moons encroached..
For the first time in an eternity of bitter, solitary struggle: stillness.
Silence.
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Date: 2021-01-13 10:50 pm (UTC)Elidibus finds the touch of hands foreign. Fortunately, there are distractions to keep him from lingering on it for overlong. There wouldn't be any gazing into the eyes of each other, this Bonding. Elidibus seems interested more in the process itself. It is a struggle to sense or follow everything properly though. Eons have ingrained how to reach out and manipulate aether and it simply does not apply in this world, for all the spoken principle seems the same. And what was once visual and almost tangible is... sensation. Variance of pressures interacting and twining and stitching with his own internal aether. Smoothly, with precision that belies a mortal's capacity. Mayhap Liam and Lahabrea both will hear the Emissary catch his breath as the binding is given a physical manifest.
But was it his emotion of losing the ability to see aether in this form, or Lahabrea's as their souls bind? Perhaps both of them. For half a moment, there is true grief. Not stress, or nothingness or anger. It is soon gone, for the void that exists in Elidibus is a deep abyss.
To see the connection to their God so strong- how could it be anything else, with Liam unknowing and certainly not capable of intentional illusion- is met with a trace of relief. It is still there, part of his aether, part of Lahabrea's. Familiar and right. The 'pressure' of Lahabrea's aether wrapping around Elidibus'. And it is not at all uncomfortable.
No matter how distant their Bond is, for all there's a void of 'nothing' within him from all that is lost, the impact of another's emotions upon the Emissary is still profound. His bare hands suddenly squeeze Lahabrea's, suggesting he is forcing himself to hold on, rather than release at such a crucial moment while the new Bond settles. For others, it may been nothing, really. To Elidibus, it is a moment of emotions long alien to him, particularly of such intensity. The rage, the hatred. The instincts Lahabrea has been fighting against alone for who knows how long. Elidibus exhales a breath he hadn't been holding when the moment passes, when the Speaker finally finds the peace of silence that comes with the binding of dragon and witch.
He's visibly shaken in the aftermath. Where Lahabrea finds the peace of sudden silence, Elidibus finds himself trembling a little. His flesh lightly clammy. It wouldn't take him long to recover. It never does. But that he showed it at all...
After those said few moments to recover, he frames a statement.
"Such was not what I imagined."
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Date: 2021-01-14 12:04 am (UTC)These two don't seem too inclined towards that, but Liam isn't going to take chances. And a little privacy doesn't hurt so soon after something as life altering as a bond. He's quick to escape back out the door - but he will indeed be around outside in case anything further is needed. Just in case.
What he's said has been heard, but other than a slight nod of acknowledgment, Lahabrea's quite content to get the stranger out of their midst, no matter how helpful he'd been these last several minutes. Emotion at all in the Emissary has long been unusual, and if there was that is usually only a dim, dull anger at Hydaelyn and all She'd wrought for all external observation's sign. Not that in truth he'd paid a lot of attention for quite a while now. Had any of them? Did he know a reason the first thing to flicker across their link would be grief?
Patience is afforded him only because of the quiet that had for now subsumed the feral undercurrent, that he has the clarity of thought and ability to consider the tremor in Elidibus' hands, the faint cold sweat of scaleless hands against his own. How long had it been since anyone saw as much in the staunchly stoic Emissary?
How long had it been since he himself could weigh anything at all with a clear mind and calm spirit?
Ages.
Maybe before Amaurot fell. Maybe.
Almost absently, as if it could somehow warm the clammy skin, Lahabrea turns his hands so Elidibus' are folded between his own. It won't help much, not with the cause not being the room's temperature at all. Touch enhances the bond, hm?
"Don't fall over," the elder ascian murmurs, "They might still be watching."
.... Yes, that's the right thing to say right now, absolutely.
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Date: 2021-01-14 12:56 am (UTC)They might still be watching. Elidibus closes his eyes momentarily and gathers himself to straighten to his full height. Which, as has been mentioned before, is more in keeping now with that long lost time in Amaurot. Though the expression on the Emissary's face turned up to Lahabrea is a far cry from that which Elidibus would have normally shown, then.
"No doubt." If not watching, listening even if it was mostly for the sake of either of them to call Liam back for questions. Elidibus does not let go of Lahabrea's hands. Nor does he try to pull away when the Speaker's hands wrap and try to warm away the cold sweat.
"Can you feel it?" The sensation of the Bond. It is so obvious to him, but the Emissary has no idea how it is for one who has been fated to become this world's Monster. "Our aether is surely as bound as any Prime might experience. Yet, I find I am still wholly myself at the same time." Of course, it is early yet, this experience. "Has our goal met with success?" Does Lahabrea find his mind stable? Certainly, there's a... smoother, cleaner feel to his own aether than before. It seemed easier to reach for, too.
Though it is not physical cold that had caused his chill, within Lahabrea's scaled hands, the Ascian's are becoming warm and dry again. It is... comforting, emotionally, to have this contact. Elidibus is likely unable to process 'comfort'. But it is there nonetheless.
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Date: 2021-01-15 12:08 am (UTC)Time would tell.
"I feel.." The word draws itself out into silence, as it's considered for a long, long moment, head tilting back slightly as if listening for some faintly heard sound. What did he feel? What was there? What had changed, what hadn't?
The moment stretches into a solid minute. "Quiet," is the eventual conclusion, barely a murmur. He's not sure it counts as success, it's just that foreign even to his base nature. It has been quite a while since temper hadn't been a problem if he weren't careful, this sudden lack could be returning to a baseline, or he's simply so far off his base of reference that he doesn't recognize it anymore.
"There is, now and again, a suggestion of an emotion that I am certain isn't mine. But far less than I might have expected with how some talk."
There's a stillness to feeling that Elidibus brought that is nigh foreign, Lahabrea's emotions had never really dimmed across the ages, they'd merely shifted towards the harsher range. This momentary muting is strange and unfamiliar but not unwelcome even if it doesn't ... quite ... mute everything. The Speaker was unstable long before this city stole him into the world, and that undercurrent of delicate, fragile control remains. And may even be detectable, the way energy hums almost tangibly beneath a broken but not entirely severed wire. '...I will know better, in ... a handful of weeks."
When the lunar pull exerts its inevitable force again.
But still ... he did expect more, though there might not be more - Elidibus didn't, maybe couldn't as yet, feel anything else. And for one so used to the sway of constant emotion.. it's strange.
"...For the sake of a learning experience.." His tone is still quiet, but they're close enough where the sound is easy enough to detect. Effortless, really. "Let us find something that brings to mind some strong feeling. Not all has been lost to the ages, after all."
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Date: 2021-01-15 04:07 am (UTC)All is faint then. Not a strong, close Bond. But it functions for now. They can proceed with observation from here. Elidibus makes due note of the faint sensation which still comes through, of the thin and fraying bit of control which remains to Lahabrea. It's strange, he feels. He understands what it portrays, in the same way he had gleaned the Speaker's mental instability during the eons they had spent together. So it doesn't cause him to express an emotion to be felt, as it might to find it so recently discovered. Rather, his determination becomes that much more difficult to sway. It may be worth looking into ways to deepen their bond, that he might offer some more of his own self to bolster that fragile control.
"Ah yes, the full moon," Elidibus offers as confirmation that he has learned about the different phases of the moon and their effects on Monsters versus the Mirrorbound witches. "I'm told then that my magicks will be weakened then. But during the new moon in several days, I will have an abundance of power." And a lessened control over his emotions. He doesn't want to say this aloud. He also isn't quite convinced he can't control his emotional state. But it seems he should. Although his tone is dry. "There seems to be some... potential for heightened emotions. Be forewarned."
Yes. Heightened emotions. From Elidibus. Anything that's virtually zero, when multiplied... It seems a poor jest.
Please ignore his future fascination with social media.The Emissary looks up at his taller colleague. He seems intrigued at the thought. Trying to invoke a strong emotion? Well, he has had some specific events in the recent past that he could bring to mind, certainly. Tactile contact does help. And they've come this far holding hands with no ill effects. But, almost reluctantly, he starts to draw his hands away from Lahabrea's. This can be stopped, if desired.
"I agree," he says in kind. "But... not here." There are some things one does not absolutely do in front of mortals. Or with mortals nearby. Or indeed, with other Ascians nearby, though that latter nearly doesn't matter here. It does however, bring to mind something almost akin to a joke.
"I do not know that I wish to let him yet know we Bonded," Elidibus comments. "But given such circumstances as we know them, I do not doubt a visit to Emet-Selch could bring up a fair amount of emotional turmoil." Surely Emet-Selch could guess it would be inevitable. But the third of the Unsundered trio has certainly kept his distance thus far. It would probably be better to be sure of a few factors before they encounter him again.
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Date: 2021-01-16 10:37 pm (UTC)It's almost distracting, the way he could think without the constant certainty that those around him are actively going out of their way to get under his skin. There was supposed to be more to it than this, more ... gratitude, more emotion or intention or .. something, he's sure of it, but he keeps circling around to distraction.
"Will my home do, or do you prefer somewhere further afield? They hesitate to let unbonded leave the city." But that's no longer an issue and more importantly not far away is the heat of summer, not the bitter chill of winter and it's almost tempting to suggest they go--
... It's true. Emet-Selch would certainly bring up emotions one way or another. And if Elidibus were influenced by Lahabrea, or worse, the beast trapped in the back of his mind, would that instigate something further even in the stoic emissary? "I suspect he'll discern that on his own fairly swiftly," Lahabrea notes after a long moment of puzzling that over. "Especially if it is so that a monster enhances this or that in a witch, beyond a normal capacity. ... But he is ... not likely to be interested in either of us disrupting the life he's made himself here, so I wonder whom would be experiencing that turmoil. Us, or him."
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Date: 2021-01-17 12:11 am (UTC)Normally.
The Emissary is giving the choice of outside the town or in the privacy of Lahabrea's home due consideration. "I believe privacy is in order this time. So unless you have access to something as secure or more outside of the city, let us return to your home." There is more than just privacy to consider, however. "I am still weakened by my transference." Magic still eludes Elidibus in all but some very simple cantrips. For instance, should you need him to light a candle, he's your man... "Though I have suitable knowledge to use the physical skills of this body, it will likely prove inefficient." There's too much here which would not fall to purely physical weapons strikes not empowered with aether. "You would need to be prepared to defend me. And it would not be a conducive environment for experiments with invoking emotion."
Of Emet-Selch, Elidibus doesn't have much more to say. If he were anyone else, he might also have had to disguise humor. As it is, Lahabrea is merely given a sidelong glance. "Hm. I suppose that would not benefit this experiment. And I suspect that the any emotion that might be generated between you and I would be... similar, should certain matters be confirmed." Elidibus steps to the door, obviously intending to depart whatever decision they make on the change of location. "Emet-Selch has also been here a year's time. This should be kept in mind."
As a 'Witch', their fellow Ascian has far more experience than Elidibus, should matters escalate to the worst possible outcome.
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Date: 2021-01-17 12:24 am (UTC)He might be mistaken in that much, Emet-Selch certainly has very good reasons to actually apply his considerable experience and familiarity with magic, when stripped of so much.
But old habits die hard.
"The rest will see to itself in a mere handful of decades. But if you wish to confront him on his questionable relationship with the Warrior of Light, I'm certain it would be a lively event and to the best that I not accompany such a venture, for just that reason." It seems he's content to follow for the moment; home is a fair way off and it was going to be a long and second time awkward walk. Maybe if he was lucky the changes would continue and he'd at least be able to move around comfortably again. "Fear not. This is no great trouble that we cannot contend with."
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Date: 2021-01-17 01:34 am (UTC)Elidibus raises his hand palm upward. Can the flow of spellcasting be felt through the Bond? Have a spontaneous test, though that is not the purpose, "Oh Flame." he intones. There is displeasure felt and underscoring the use of words. The reason is clear when the results manifest after he continues. "Manifest in my palm that this pitiful world may be given the benefit of your Light." His palm remains steady and a flicker of flame no better than dull candlelight manifests just above his palm. He is quick to use his other hand to shield it from stray drafts, that it doesn't snuff out immediately.
Even then, it is gone moments later and the Emissary lets out a soft gasp of air. Through Bond and appearance, even that small bit of 'magic' had taken a decent toll on him to control. "This... Lahabrea, is the magic of this world. Keep this in mind as well, going forth."
Lahabrea is certainly not wrong in thinking a year is not much, that Elidibus won't be putting his focus on reclaiming even this pitiful form of magic ability. But the Emissary seems intent on conveying the thought that Emet-Selch may indeed have been given motivation to focus his efforts. He was, after all, the most powerful mage of them all.
Though he tries to hide it, Elidibus's first step in continuing out of the room is a trifle unsteady.
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Date: 2021-01-17 10:59 pm (UTC)There's no real heat in it, though there's a faint touch of annoyance. "If in the state you are in you consider magic to be the recourse if we must for some reason come to blows against our own kind, then you have forgotten some vital lessons indeed." Whatever those steps are trying to hide, there is a weakness that must not be displayed to others - and now it's his responsibility too. His voice drops as he deliberately steps close, looping one arm quite deliberately through Elidibus'. "Lean a little if you must. Let them think we are every other besotted bonded in this miserable place, and they will not see what I do."
A flaw. An exploitable weakness. Something that must not be allowed.
And then his tone is right back to where it was before. "Lest you forget, that ridiculously oversized axe is your primary defense and offense for likely quite a while. Utilize it. If you need lessons.. I remember enough of hand to hand fighting, I think, to chase you about. If you wish to surprise a sorcerer, you do not meet him on an even playing field. You punch him."
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Date: 2021-01-18 01:02 am (UTC)He speaks not of weakness. He's already shown enough, to one of his own, where he should be the one standing as the supportive pillar. Mayhap, Elidibus wonders, he's been shaken by the experience more than he realized.
"But no. I would not think magic to be something to turn to for now." He...starts to lean a little as both continue further on. The contact is not as it was when it was bare hands, but it does invoke a muted sense of 'closeness'. Elidibus ignores it, this time- or so he tells himself.
"I was able to make practical the skills of this warrior's body before my arrival here." Muscle memory did a lot to help. Fragments of observations, previous combat experience also gave Elidibus a hand up. Still, "Though I will not reject your offer." Tactics, sparring, regular practice. They will be welcomed.
To punch Emet-Selch. There's some considerable thought on that. Possibly all the time it takes to pass by Liam and be public again. And with the public eye comes Ardbert's voice again. His humor and amusement which, thanks to the Bond, Lahabrea can feel soul-deep is nothing more than a mask. Though he already knew that, didn't he? "I certainly see that would surprise the illustrious Emet-Selch, if I were to punch him."
Already it's seeming a distant notion. Why would they, truly, come to blows? Between the three Unsundered, no matter how different their views became, they were steadfast in their goal to restore Lord Zodiark.
'Remember us.' Or so that Scion boy had said of Emet-Selch's last words. Elidibus grows silent and loses some of the facade as he retreats into his thoughts.
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Date: 2021-01-18 11:33 am (UTC)But he doesn't play along; such friendliness and humor simply wasn't necessary. There's an acknowledging nod to Liam, who beams at the pair, apparently quite pleased with himself. "He is still our ally, for all that he seems to want a .. 'vacation'." The reminder isn't ungentle. "We have the same goals, the same God. Preparedness is not harmful, but it is best to not cause the very problem that is feared. He cannot pick the Warrior of Light over his own kind, it is impossible." Tempering would see to that. They simply couldn't deviate. Never would. This temporary inconvenience was just that.
But being prepared for a scuffle or two wasn't likely a bad idea, at least until said Warrior of Light finally died. "Mayhap we simply need to reassure him that he may take his ... mechanical companion with him back to the Source or wherever else he seeks to go."
Keep his pet! And stop being an idiot! That will surely work. Zodiark didn't care much for what species someone was, after all.. so long as they were loyal.
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Date: 2021-01-18 05:30 pm (UTC)Vacation. Rest. Yes, Emet-Selch had been settling in to sleep for a while after his stint as Solus zos Galvus. Before Elidibus arrived and informed him of the news that Lahabrea was gone. Emet-Selch had gone to do his duty rather than settle into a century or two of slumber. Perhaps he is due this rest. Perhaps.
The good cheer does fade from Elidibus' voice when next he speaks, but he does not switch back to his own. "Even if he sought reconciliation in some form, as we are, so too is the Warrior of Light in this world. It may well be possible now, to bring her into the fold ere she returns to bask in Hydaelyn's graces." Would that not be a fitting symbol? To wrest the Goddess' champion out of her clutches and into the embrace of Lord Zodiark?
His recovery seems fairly quick, though still he remains silently in support of Lahabrea's gait, for as long as it takes the Ascian to notice and pull away. "In such pursuits, mayhap her Bond with Emet-Selch will prove useful. Though I imagine for now, each are keeping the other in check." But just one little tipping of the scales between their aether...
Elidibus does, for now, note the nagging unease these thoughts bring. Not for the sanctity of the Bond being abused. By why hadn't Emet-Selch's fully whole self not already overwhelmed the Warrior of Light's. But it will not be voiced. Not until he finds out more.
Perhaps Emet-Selch simply keeps the full force of his aether from overwhelming the Bond. Perhaps it is another of this Star's seals. Sigh. So much to be done.
"There is much to learn, Lahabrea. I hope you are prepared."
From anyone else that would have been an order. From Elidibus, it is interchangeable with the question, 'You will... help me, right?'
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