Adé shrugged, giving her an apologetic smile. "You must sleep, as far as I know. There aren't many places to sleep comfortably here, except maybe at the foot of Delmar's bed. I could see about finding more pillows from the residents..."
The bed onto which the Squid was laid was long and large enough that his feet didn't reach the end of stone and sheep-hide bedding. There was just enough space for someone to maybe lie down in a perpendicular posture, head at one side of the bed and feet at the other.
A Light in the Darkness
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IamLEAM1983
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TennyoCeres84
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Re: A Light in the Darkness
Meris nodded slowly. Truth be told, she was getting spoiled to the bed the Augur had given her; she reminded herself to get unused to that should she ever escape Dalarath. Maybe take up sleeping in a hammock again, like she had on her father's boat... "Aye, please, whatev'r someone cin spare. If no', this will be fine," she stated.
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IamLEAM1983
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Re: A Light in the Darkness
Something about the elder's influence remained unnatural, however. Meris would feel compelled to lie down shortly following Adé's departure for extra pillows, fatigue slamming into her in a manner that felt more like a call or a siren's song than anything resembling the result of her recent hardships. As if on cue, the old Squid groaned and wordlessly protested, shifting his posture in the bed and curling his feet upwards - leaving her with more space.
She'd barely have the time to hit her initial pillow with her head that she'd feel herself black out. Unconsciousness was short, however, her mind quite suddenly placing her in a standing position in the middle of a long hallway. Dark stone covered each nook and cranny, greenish and lambent cracks providing clear, if lurid light everywhere she'd look. On the floor, a long and seemingly uninterrupted throw rug or tapestry stretched out, woven in a deep forest green and inlaid with gold-threaded Black Script. Something was wrong, however.
As she'd look on the symbols that should have caused her head to start swimming and anguish to grip her throat, clarity, instead, seemed to dawn on her. She'd find that she had the vaguest sense of what the symbols meant, as though she'd studied the Black Script as a young child only to have forgotten most of it as an adult. These were the halls of the Architect, the symbols said, where Stillness was hallowed, stones were the silent preachers for His will and the Void promised something greater than chaos - the crude and unrefined product of blind hate. Order was what stood at the heart of the Void - the extinction of everything through the realization of everything. The natural drawing out of the Universe's energies, the uninterrupted consequence of all life.
Entropy, in a sense.
A door opened on the side and out stepped someone who strangely looked like the Elder, if Delmar had a few thousand years less on his back. He was slightly hunched forward, his simple white robes blending in with his slightly ashen tendrils. Recognizing her, the Weaver smiled.
"Ah, Meris," he said. In here, his voice was quietly strong. Pleasant, but still possessed of some authority. "I'm sorry for such an abrupt introduction, but my own people wouldn't understand that even these words are subject to interpretation," he said, gesturing to the floor's tapestry.
He took a few steps forward her and casually tied his arms behind his back. "Here - this is an axiom I'd ask my own pupils, in those bygone days where Dalarath was mine," he said. "Let's presume I've presented you with a glass that contains water to its exact midpoint. Is it partially filled or partially empty? Are you missing water or have you gained half a glass?"
She'd barely have the time to hit her initial pillow with her head that she'd feel herself black out. Unconsciousness was short, however, her mind quite suddenly placing her in a standing position in the middle of a long hallway. Dark stone covered each nook and cranny, greenish and lambent cracks providing clear, if lurid light everywhere she'd look. On the floor, a long and seemingly uninterrupted throw rug or tapestry stretched out, woven in a deep forest green and inlaid with gold-threaded Black Script. Something was wrong, however.
As she'd look on the symbols that should have caused her head to start swimming and anguish to grip her throat, clarity, instead, seemed to dawn on her. She'd find that she had the vaguest sense of what the symbols meant, as though she'd studied the Black Script as a young child only to have forgotten most of it as an adult. These were the halls of the Architect, the symbols said, where Stillness was hallowed, stones were the silent preachers for His will and the Void promised something greater than chaos - the crude and unrefined product of blind hate. Order was what stood at the heart of the Void - the extinction of everything through the realization of everything. The natural drawing out of the Universe's energies, the uninterrupted consequence of all life.
Entropy, in a sense.
A door opened on the side and out stepped someone who strangely looked like the Elder, if Delmar had a few thousand years less on his back. He was slightly hunched forward, his simple white robes blending in with his slightly ashen tendrils. Recognizing her, the Weaver smiled.
"Ah, Meris," he said. In here, his voice was quietly strong. Pleasant, but still possessed of some authority. "I'm sorry for such an abrupt introduction, but my own people wouldn't understand that even these words are subject to interpretation," he said, gesturing to the floor's tapestry.
He took a few steps forward her and casually tied his arms behind his back. "Here - this is an axiom I'd ask my own pupils, in those bygone days where Dalarath was mine," he said. "Let's presume I've presented you with a glass that contains water to its exact midpoint. Is it partially filled or partially empty? Are you missing water or have you gained half a glass?"
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TennyoCeres84
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Re: A Light in the Darkness
Meris considered his question for a minute, tilting her head in thought. When her conclusion had been reached, she answered, "I'd personally say th' glass is half-full, as I try tae see t'ings wi' optimism. Where there's water, there's potential. Howev'r, that's only me perspective. Ye could ask twenty or a thousand people, an' each one o' them would hae their own view o' it. Neither right or wrong, but alsae jus' th' opposite at th' same time. Tae me, all outcomes are possible at any given moment at any point in time."
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IamLEAM1983
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Re: A Light in the Darkness
Delmar nodded, seemingly pleased. "Perspective. The essential tool to any student of warfare - more than any skill at killing one's enemy."
He briefly gathered his robes along with his thoughts. "I will not hide the Architect's nature or purpose to you, Meris. You deserve better than this. He is the Other of Order, but He still originates from a time and place before the White God's Creation. Other stars filled the Void, other mixtures of air and matter, other plants and creatures... Nothing was as you or I could conceivably grasp - but there was no chaos to this. This Creation was simply... alien to us. It did its time, expended its energy and then wilted away, leaving the corpse of its creator behind. The White God emerged and employed the same tools the Architect had, producing a different sculpture."
He shrugged lightly. "Is our universe better than the Architect's? I cannot say. Nothing remains of what once was, if not for the fact that we are all made from the matter of dead stars. We are assembled from ruins and cold ashes, bits and pieces of other planets and other beings being given new life by a different pair of hands. The Architect tells us that normally, new Creators entirely take their place. The former ones step away and are never heard from again. This time, unfortunately, some of the Former Gods objected to the White God's turn. They rallied against Him. The Architect was His only ally, but he was stunted. Without matter to meld, he had no tools with which to help His friend.
A truce was brokered in the infancy of our world, before the White God tore Himself apart and used His own matter to create Heaven and Hell. The Architect would be allowed to unmake souls and lives throughout time, to spread suffering and pain - in exchange for his support against Amaxi and Her Brothers. Gods are like spirits, however - even less than them, in fact. They cannot exist in the mortal plane. The Architect created an agent for himself, but his nature made it so that the truce's conclusion has yet to pass. The agent is being created as we speak, but he will not emerge in this reality until several centuries from now."
He raised a finger. "More importantly, my master once obeyed laws you would subscribe to. Honor or justice, as understood and articulated in his version of the mortal plane, namely. Peace, most importantly. Being too removed from our world, however, he has no choice but to manifest through subversions of its rules. He can only achieve peace through violence, as contradictory as it seems. This is where you come into play.
You are native to this plane, as am I. I am old, however, and would not survive any physical trips to the surface world. You, however, could be trained in order to become the bridge between worlds, and to defend this peace with your words, your songs and your mind, first of all - but also with your life. The Architect's direct agent will be forced to harm innocents to sustain himself, whereas you will never be."
Oddly enough, what had once been a long corridor had bled away while Delmar had spoken, reshaping into an immense room lined with shelf upon shelf of rolls of parchment and old and musty tomes.
"Don't be frightened," he cautioned. "Movement is only aesthetic in this place. As you are dreaming, there is no real need for you to move anywhere while in the Darkhallow. Once you will grow familiar with those areas I have made safe for you and your allies, you'll only ever need to think about being there, in order to appear there. Most of us still do move from place to place with our feet, however. It's easier to pick up books to study with our own hands."
He briefly gathered his robes along with his thoughts. "I will not hide the Architect's nature or purpose to you, Meris. You deserve better than this. He is the Other of Order, but He still originates from a time and place before the White God's Creation. Other stars filled the Void, other mixtures of air and matter, other plants and creatures... Nothing was as you or I could conceivably grasp - but there was no chaos to this. This Creation was simply... alien to us. It did its time, expended its energy and then wilted away, leaving the corpse of its creator behind. The White God emerged and employed the same tools the Architect had, producing a different sculpture."
He shrugged lightly. "Is our universe better than the Architect's? I cannot say. Nothing remains of what once was, if not for the fact that we are all made from the matter of dead stars. We are assembled from ruins and cold ashes, bits and pieces of other planets and other beings being given new life by a different pair of hands. The Architect tells us that normally, new Creators entirely take their place. The former ones step away and are never heard from again. This time, unfortunately, some of the Former Gods objected to the White God's turn. They rallied against Him. The Architect was His only ally, but he was stunted. Without matter to meld, he had no tools with which to help His friend.
A truce was brokered in the infancy of our world, before the White God tore Himself apart and used His own matter to create Heaven and Hell. The Architect would be allowed to unmake souls and lives throughout time, to spread suffering and pain - in exchange for his support against Amaxi and Her Brothers. Gods are like spirits, however - even less than them, in fact. They cannot exist in the mortal plane. The Architect created an agent for himself, but his nature made it so that the truce's conclusion has yet to pass. The agent is being created as we speak, but he will not emerge in this reality until several centuries from now."
He raised a finger. "More importantly, my master once obeyed laws you would subscribe to. Honor or justice, as understood and articulated in his version of the mortal plane, namely. Peace, most importantly. Being too removed from our world, however, he has no choice but to manifest through subversions of its rules. He can only achieve peace through violence, as contradictory as it seems. This is where you come into play.
You are native to this plane, as am I. I am old, however, and would not survive any physical trips to the surface world. You, however, could be trained in order to become the bridge between worlds, and to defend this peace with your words, your songs and your mind, first of all - but also with your life. The Architect's direct agent will be forced to harm innocents to sustain himself, whereas you will never be."
Oddly enough, what had once been a long corridor had bled away while Delmar had spoken, reshaping into an immense room lined with shelf upon shelf of rolls of parchment and old and musty tomes.
"Don't be frightened," he cautioned. "Movement is only aesthetic in this place. As you are dreaming, there is no real need for you to move anywhere while in the Darkhallow. Once you will grow familiar with those areas I have made safe for you and your allies, you'll only ever need to think about being there, in order to appear there. Most of us still do move from place to place with our feet, however. It's easier to pick up books to study with our own hands."
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TennyoCeres84
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Re: A Light in the Darkness
Delmar's account of the Architect and His pact made with White God both intrigued and startled her. Many questions buzzed in her mind. Who was the Architect's agent? What was her role in all of this? Had her being captured been done for larger reasons than she knew? How would her studies and life lead to the destruction of the Others? Meris reined in the whirlwind of uncertainties, which would be apparent to the squid, and rationalized that her myriad inquiries would be answered in time. Yet, she felt like the proverbial Pandora, unsure, terrified and excited all at once.
The bard surveyed the created library and nodded to the elderly Void Weaver. Still, she seemed a bit puzzled. "My allies, though?" she asked. "Are ye referrin' tae th' current Augur?"
The bard surveyed the created library and nodded to the elderly Void Weaver. Still, she seemed a bit puzzled. "My allies, though?" she asked. "Are ye referrin' tae th' current Augur?"
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IamLEAM1983
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Re: A Light in the Darkness
"Yes," nodded Delmar, "but his motives are... clouded. He was born in one of the Sin Houses - one of the lines of priests dedicated to the worship of Amaxi and Harrogath - and the loyalty They require is absolute. I have no doubt he will do what he can for us, but-"
His expression grew slightly bitter, but he readjusted his face into a pleasant smile, clasping his hands together. "I must have faith in you, Meris. Any reservations I might have about the current Augur's moral abilities could no longer apply a week from now - if not a few days from now. As the Darkhallow now contains a bit of your own mind, I can see what he would find so mesmerizing. These walls find your life experiences odd, to say the least. They carry a new texture - the perspective of the Able Slave.
All I would ask of you in the immediate is that you keep caring for him. Continue entertaining him, feed his spirit with as many stories as you can. No matter how painful or difficult it might be for him in future, that spark of goodness must survive. He might damn you for it in future, but this is essential."
He let out a self-deprecating chuckle and looked down on himself. "Befriend that which could destroy you," he said, seemingly amused. "This is an interesting reversal of our standard procedure: Void Weavers yearning for fresh salmon from the bays, the rays of the sun, safety and friendship. A particularly efficient twist of the knife from the matter the Others thought they'd subverted. We all fundamentally want the same things you do."
Delmar again raised a finger. "The Architect also sees allies far ahead of you. Many of them are not even of this world, as we speak, and nor are their most removed ancestors. Let's see if the Master's books contain some clues to this matter.."
He turned and stepped away, seemingly starting to look for a very precise tome amidst the myriad of other books.
His expression grew slightly bitter, but he readjusted his face into a pleasant smile, clasping his hands together. "I must have faith in you, Meris. Any reservations I might have about the current Augur's moral abilities could no longer apply a week from now - if not a few days from now. As the Darkhallow now contains a bit of your own mind, I can see what he would find so mesmerizing. These walls find your life experiences odd, to say the least. They carry a new texture - the perspective of the Able Slave.
All I would ask of you in the immediate is that you keep caring for him. Continue entertaining him, feed his spirit with as many stories as you can. No matter how painful or difficult it might be for him in future, that spark of goodness must survive. He might damn you for it in future, but this is essential."
He let out a self-deprecating chuckle and looked down on himself. "Befriend that which could destroy you," he said, seemingly amused. "This is an interesting reversal of our standard procedure: Void Weavers yearning for fresh salmon from the bays, the rays of the sun, safety and friendship. A particularly efficient twist of the knife from the matter the Others thought they'd subverted. We all fundamentally want the same things you do."
Delmar again raised a finger. "The Architect also sees allies far ahead of you. Many of them are not even of this world, as we speak, and nor are their most removed ancestors. Let's see if the Master's books contain some clues to this matter.."
He turned and stepped away, seemingly starting to look for a very precise tome amidst the myriad of other books.
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TennyoCeres84
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Re: A Light in the Darkness
The selkie's reservations about the current Augur bore evidence of being true, but she heeded Delmar's advice. Heal him. Care for him. Entertain him. Befriend him. And maybe, just maybe, it might turn out for the better. Prior to being enslaved, if someone had told her that she would dally with such thoughts, she would have told that someone they were daft. Stories of the Void Weavers made them out to be the selkies' mortal enemies, but what if there were one or two exceptions to the rule? A part of her deeply wished that possibility could be true...
Meris pushed the matter away for the moment and watched Delmar peruse the shelves. Soon, she ventured over to him to see if her question regarding allies would be answered by his search for a certain tome.
Meris pushed the matter away for the moment and watched Delmar peruse the shelves. Soon, she ventured over to him to see if her question regarding allies would be answered by his search for a certain tome.
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IamLEAM1983
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Re: A Light in the Darkness
Climbing on a rolling ladder slowly and precariously, Delmar soon pulled out a thick book, its pages yellowed and dry and its leather cover faded and wrinkled with age. He carried it back down with severe grunts of effort and then headed for the closest lectern, setting it in place with another heaving sound and a sigh of relief. One hand briefly reached at his back and massaged sore back muscles, brief groans of unconscious relief escaping his tentacled lips. His other hand, in the meantime, reached for and flicked the cover and pages, eventually stopping at a specific chapter.
"Here," he said, "read this. As our minds are joined for the moment, you may safely approach any of the Black Books. You might as well consider me as your translator."
Indeed, before anything unfortunate could happen to her mind, the eldritch symbols blended together into the old English she'd have heard the monks from her shores' nearby monastery write in. The Life and Accomplishments of Meris of the Orcades," the text read, presenting a long and narrative list of deeds as of yet unattempted, songs as of yet unsung - literally every potential fork in her life, all of it accounted for. Soon, however, the dizzying tale of her life's many potentials would blend together into a white haze in her mind, out of which would emerge faces and places...
A city by the sea, beset by an ancient curse. Tall spires from modern times that weren't so much as the flights of fancy of philosophers and writers, as of her present day. People and places that did not exist yet - that could not exist yet - and still so strangely familiar...
Take one of the faces, for instance. Close to her own, a young selkie female with the expected pallid skin and dark hair; but covered in odd makeup choices that had to belong to this distant future, laden with tattoos of a level of complexity no fish bone and algae ink could ever reproduce. The buzzing of a strange machine as her hands covered in black rubber etch out a client's preferred design in equal parts arcane power and artistic talent, strangely energetic music buzzing in her shop's air without any band to produce it...
A bell rang somewhere in the vision, the woman lifted her gaze from her handiwork, and a young man's voice was dimly heard, speaking in an English vernacular unlike anything heard in her days.
"Heya, Ais! Killer heat wave, huh?
- Tell me about it," she replied, scoffing lightly, still working. "Chauncey's been asking Bucky to go on daily Gatorade trips and he changes his shirt sometimes twice a day. His office smells pretty rank."
Even though the man wasn't the apparent focus of her vision, she'd see figments of him. Closely cropped hair, slightly weathered skin, clear blue eyes - and three scars along the nape of his neck.
The man sat himself on the edge of one of the two strange chairs the selkie seemed to use for her work. He wasn't a customer, though. "Do you think Meris is going to pull through with her research?" he asked.
The one called Ais - probably Aislinn - flashed a quick smile. "You know her; she's been tracking Squids for the better part of four hundred years. If anyone can figure out that one page from the Black Book we recovered, it's her. Chauncey's mostly just a ride-along at this point."
The vision faded, the strange tattoo shop's sounds receding into the sounds of her own ringing ears, the smell of ink and rubber turning into the cool, marine scent of Delmar's hand against her arm, as the elder steadied her.
"This was what could, will or should happen," said the former Augur. "Which it is, I cannot say."
"Here," he said, "read this. As our minds are joined for the moment, you may safely approach any of the Black Books. You might as well consider me as your translator."
Indeed, before anything unfortunate could happen to her mind, the eldritch symbols blended together into the old English she'd have heard the monks from her shores' nearby monastery write in. The Life and Accomplishments of Meris of the Orcades," the text read, presenting a long and narrative list of deeds as of yet unattempted, songs as of yet unsung - literally every potential fork in her life, all of it accounted for. Soon, however, the dizzying tale of her life's many potentials would blend together into a white haze in her mind, out of which would emerge faces and places...
A city by the sea, beset by an ancient curse. Tall spires from modern times that weren't so much as the flights of fancy of philosophers and writers, as of her present day. People and places that did not exist yet - that could not exist yet - and still so strangely familiar...
Take one of the faces, for instance. Close to her own, a young selkie female with the expected pallid skin and dark hair; but covered in odd makeup choices that had to belong to this distant future, laden with tattoos of a level of complexity no fish bone and algae ink could ever reproduce. The buzzing of a strange machine as her hands covered in black rubber etch out a client's preferred design in equal parts arcane power and artistic talent, strangely energetic music buzzing in her shop's air without any band to produce it...
A bell rang somewhere in the vision, the woman lifted her gaze from her handiwork, and a young man's voice was dimly heard, speaking in an English vernacular unlike anything heard in her days.
"Heya, Ais! Killer heat wave, huh?
- Tell me about it," she replied, scoffing lightly, still working. "Chauncey's been asking Bucky to go on daily Gatorade trips and he changes his shirt sometimes twice a day. His office smells pretty rank."
Even though the man wasn't the apparent focus of her vision, she'd see figments of him. Closely cropped hair, slightly weathered skin, clear blue eyes - and three scars along the nape of his neck.
The man sat himself on the edge of one of the two strange chairs the selkie seemed to use for her work. He wasn't a customer, though. "Do you think Meris is going to pull through with her research?" he asked.
The one called Ais - probably Aislinn - flashed a quick smile. "You know her; she's been tracking Squids for the better part of four hundred years. If anyone can figure out that one page from the Black Book we recovered, it's her. Chauncey's mostly just a ride-along at this point."
The vision faded, the strange tattoo shop's sounds receding into the sounds of her own ringing ears, the smell of ink and rubber turning into the cool, marine scent of Delmar's hand against her arm, as the elder steadied her.
"This was what could, will or should happen," said the former Augur. "Which it is, I cannot say."
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TennyoCeres84
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Re: A Light in the Darkness
Her mind swam from all the sounds, images, and scents she felt from the book; it left her with a few answers and an endless litany of questions. Who were these people, and how did they relate to her? And was the future that loud and busy? She was thankful for Delmar's steadying hand and the return of the calm chamber.