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aetherialslumber) wrote2019-08-02 07:07 pm
aetherialslumber) wrote2019-08-02 07:07 pm
twitter ficlet - The First
Y'shtola had been summoned, and all had been discussed with her. She had not been their target... but they had another attempt, the Exarch had the power. Especially since Bolormaa was so deeply connected to Y'shtola - it had not taken much power.
They pulled, they tried to pull, and there was a scream. A powerful scream surrounded them, clearly not the Warrior of Light. (Not any of them.) No, there was a being there, a dark mist evaporating from their flesh, their form shuddering and unable to stabilize. This wasn't-- this was an Ascian. This was an Ascian, barely able to breathe, barely able to resist the Light. It wasn't one of the Unsundered, either... but it was somebody close to a Warrior of Light.
Quickly, wordlessly, the Exarch moved to throw a robe over the other. A heavy one - anything to stop the mist evaporating. Bundling the being up, they began to move deeper into the Tower. Closer to technology from long ago, technology that had touched the Void. It wasn't much, but perhaps it would help this dissolving beast.
--
It worked. It worked, but the being refused to speak with them for days. (Or perhaps it was hurting too much...) Every day, both Bolormaa and the Exarch came down - Bolormaa beginning to craft a beautiful blanket, one that could protect a being from the Light. (She had gotten advice from one of Her Warriors.) This day, both of them were sitting, watching the more-solid being under the blanket - the being with too-golden eyes who had only snarled at them.
But today, he talked. A single word.
"...Katt."
Bolormaa looked to the Exarch. The Exarch looked to her. "He's clearly not asking about the cat," the Exarch semi-joked.
"An Ascian connected to Katt-- Ser Urianger?"
Slightly nodding, Urianger bundled deeper into the blankets. "Hath you sighted--?"
"No."
The statement was quick, gentle - but not what Urianger wanted. Urianger looked right at them, his golden eyes wide in horror and... anger. Tendrils darted out from under the blanket, but they burned before he could reach to the two of them. His body trembling, his words dripped in their true language. "I͈̩̞̮̜̼̜ ̺̗̹̙w̮͈̠͚͚͎̼͢a̲̯͡s͍̳t͈͔̤ ̷̞̘̠̮͚n̙̠̫̠ͅex͏ͅt̞̫̳͘ ̡̟͉̞̬̘t̯̙̫̮͎͇ǫ̪͔̩̩ ̨̺͕̠͍̣̪̖h̷̞e͠r͓̗̭̱̩̖ ̸̭-ͅ ̺̣̖̮I̟͖ ͓w̤͓̖͇̖̙̩a̪͍̝̩s̼͝ w͉͍͉̱í͕͓͍t͔̞h̴̼̖̗͖ ̱̺͇̗͚͙͝m̖̟̺͖̟͉̟i͙̝n͏̫̰̼͔͈̪ͅe̸̥̹͇̼̦͎ ̷̘͎̺̝̼͍̣o͓͍̣ẁ̯̯n̝͎ ͍̮͘d̛̤̯̦̻̖̬̝è̫̺̳͚͔à̟̦̹͔̪̖r͎̖̠̭̕e̼s̲͍t͝ ̶̖̝̰̻M̸̠̙̣iq͚̜̩̲̣͈o̖̘̱͎̜̯͙'̼̯̥̙t̵̯̻e̫̲̰.̢̹̭͉̜̙̣ ̤̟̟͖̺̳͞Y͞o͖̱̺͚͕̟̗u̟ ̡̤͇̹̥̰̱di̶̙d̬̫̖̫̥ͅs͎̻̘͉̗̳͞ͅṯ̗̱̬͇ ̱̠̯͚̹t̶̯̦̦h̝̖̤̳i̸̙͓̣̪͈͎̫s̖̭͖͚̹͖͖͝.̡̘̱̜͔̹̻ ̙̹͓̞̹B̖͍̮̯̲̻ͅo͙̰͖͓͖̮t͈͜h̩̮̝̹͇͉ ̠͝o̩͕͍̭f̷̞̦̲̞̯ ̮̞̭̻̫y̳͖̼͚̥͞o̞̺̲̬̜̩ų͚̣̗̮̱̙̰.͕͎̖̠͞"
It wasn't that Urianger blamed them, mind you. It wasn't that he blamed anybody but the ones who lorded over them. Time itself was to blame. And yet... Bolormaa stepped backwards. The Exarch gave a defensive frown. "Urianger, calm down. Please. Listen - please. And let yourself recover.
There is much you must know... but that will come later."
Urianger hurt. He burned. And as he recovered, over the next week, there was one question he had to ask. Where had Katt gone? But neither of them could answer it. For all he knew, she was dead. Gone. Until he was better, however - able to tolerate the burning - he could not tear though dimentions, seeking her. Otherwise he would have - damn the consequences. He only wished to save this realm from a Flood of Light - that was his only goal here. For if she still existed, she would need to survive.
None of them knew why he had slipped though years before Katt. Even now, Bolormaa couldn't answer it - while she believed that they'd taken the plunge together, she had rambled on about constants and variables, in her own damned way.
They pulled, they tried to pull, and there was a scream. A powerful scream surrounded them, clearly not the Warrior of Light. (Not any of them.) No, there was a being there, a dark mist evaporating from their flesh, their form shuddering and unable to stabilize. This wasn't-- this was an Ascian. This was an Ascian, barely able to breathe, barely able to resist the Light. It wasn't one of the Unsundered, either... but it was somebody close to a Warrior of Light.
Quickly, wordlessly, the Exarch moved to throw a robe over the other. A heavy one - anything to stop the mist evaporating. Bundling the being up, they began to move deeper into the Tower. Closer to technology from long ago, technology that had touched the Void. It wasn't much, but perhaps it would help this dissolving beast.
--
It worked. It worked, but the being refused to speak with them for days. (Or perhaps it was hurting too much...) Every day, both Bolormaa and the Exarch came down - Bolormaa beginning to craft a beautiful blanket, one that could protect a being from the Light. (She had gotten advice from one of Her Warriors.) This day, both of them were sitting, watching the more-solid being under the blanket - the being with too-golden eyes who had only snarled at them.
But today, he talked. A single word.
"...Katt."
Bolormaa looked to the Exarch. The Exarch looked to her. "He's clearly not asking about the cat," the Exarch semi-joked.
"An Ascian connected to Katt-- Ser Urianger?"
Slightly nodding, Urianger bundled deeper into the blankets. "Hath you sighted--?"
"No."
The statement was quick, gentle - but not what Urianger wanted. Urianger looked right at them, his golden eyes wide in horror and... anger. Tendrils darted out from under the blanket, but they burned before he could reach to the two of them. His body trembling, his words dripped in their true language. "I͈̩̞̮̜̼̜ ̺̗̹̙w̮͈̠͚͚͎̼͢a̲̯͡s͍̳t͈͔̤ ̷̞̘̠̮͚n̙̠̫̠ͅex͏ͅt̞̫̳͘ ̡̟͉̞̬̘t̯̙̫̮͎͇ǫ̪͔̩̩ ̨̺͕̠͍̣̪̖h̷̞e͠r͓̗̭̱̩̖ ̸̭-ͅ ̺̣̖̮I̟͖ ͓w̤͓̖͇̖̙̩a̪͍̝̩s̼͝ w͉͍͉̱í͕͓͍t͔̞h̴̼̖̗͖ ̱̺͇̗͚͙͝m̖̟̺͖̟͉̟i͙̝n͏̫̰̼͔͈̪ͅe̸̥̹͇̼̦͎ ̷̘͎̺̝̼͍̣o͓͍̣ẁ̯̯n̝͎ ͍̮͘d̛̤̯̦̻̖̬̝è̫̺̳͚͔à̟̦̹͔̪̖r͎̖̠̭̕e̼s̲͍t͝ ̶̖̝̰̻M̸̠̙̣iq͚̜̩̲̣͈o̖̘̱͎̜̯͙'̼̯̥̙t̵̯̻e̫̲̰.̢̹̭͉̜̙̣ ̤̟̟͖̺̳͞Y͞o͖̱̺͚͕̟̗u̟ ̡̤͇̹̥̰̱di̶̙d̬̫̖̫̥ͅs͎̻̘͉̗̳͞ͅṯ̗̱̬͇ ̱̠̯͚̹t̶̯̦̦h̝̖̤̳i̸̙͓̣̪͈͎̫s̖̭͖͚̹͖͖͝.̡̘̱̜͔̹̻ ̙̹͓̞̹B̖͍̮̯̲̻ͅo͙̰͖͓͖̮t͈͜h̩̮̝̹͇͉ ̠͝o̩͕͍̭f̷̞̦̲̞̯ ̮̞̭̻̫y̳͖̼͚̥͞o̞̺̲̬̜̩ų͚̣̗̮̱̙̰.͕͎̖̠͞"
It wasn't that Urianger blamed them, mind you. It wasn't that he blamed anybody but the ones who lorded over them. Time itself was to blame. And yet... Bolormaa stepped backwards. The Exarch gave a defensive frown. "Urianger, calm down. Please. Listen - please. And let yourself recover.
There is much you must know... but that will come later."
Urianger hurt. He burned. And as he recovered, over the next week, there was one question he had to ask. Where had Katt gone? But neither of them could answer it. For all he knew, she was dead. Gone. Until he was better, however - able to tolerate the burning - he could not tear though dimentions, seeking her. Otherwise he would have - damn the consequences. He only wished to save this realm from a Flood of Light - that was his only goal here. For if she still existed, she would need to survive.
None of them knew why he had slipped though years before Katt. Even now, Bolormaa couldn't answer it - while she believed that they'd taken the plunge together, she had rambled on about constants and variables, in her own damned way.