Khatef coughs, chest constricted by the pain.
"Where...?" he rasps as he looks around, eyes first taking in the weird landscape, and then coming closer inward. On seeing three strangers scattered around him, his eyes widen and he vanishes from sight, moving (almost scurrying) further away to observe if they seem hostile.
Who are these people? Why are we all here? Perhaps they'll know...
Beatrice whimpers as the pain passes over her, until it's over and she finds herself lying on the ground. Before opening her eyes, she listens, as she's used to do. Breathing around her, other people are near. And far in the background is the Song, the harmony of the world, but something is off, something is alien.
She then looks around, rising to a seated position, the stars on her coat mirroring those in the sky, feasting her eyes on the light. Beautiful. So very beautiful. But there are sour notes, in this painting as in the Song. And who are these people? One of them is hiding, seems scared. Of me?
When she speaks, her voice is sweet and musical, but slightly worried. "Were we all brought here? Are... Are you friends? Don't be afraid, I won't harm you."
Jebat recovers in the alien world on all fours. The deck of his ship replaced by jagged rocks. After two deep breaths, he rocks back on his feet and stands up surveying the landscape. He sees three others facing similar conditions causing him to check the weights of his cutlass, dagger at his waist and shield on his back.
Looking at the sky to orient himself, he finds himself lost in unfamiliar constellations. "We're no longer in Arcem." He says to himself in his out-loud voice.
To the others, he appears of average height with a lean Kasirutan build. He wears a black mustache and beard upon a complexion of deep tan. A veteran leather tricorn easily sits on a silk bandana that attempts to contain unruly and decorated hair. His silk and leather outfit is salt-stained and vaguely piratey. A veteran cutlass and dagger are sheathed in his weapon’s belt, and a shield hangs on his back.
It had been a long time since Kostya had experienced such pain. Not since the night when he had begun replacing most of his body with automaton parts had he felt such intense pain. Then, just as quickly as it came, the pain was gone and it had apparently taken him along with it to an alien place he had never before seen. Kostya looked at the two figures he could see, a young woman in an extravagant coat and a man who looked as though he stepped out of one of the pirate television dramas that occasionally aired in the Bright Republic.
Crossing to the young woman still sitting on the ground Kostya extends his hand to help her up. The beautiful young woman makes him think of his little sister, whom he hopes is sleeping safe and sound in bed back in the Bright Republic right now. He answers the young woman but addresses the both of them, "I think it would be wise to stick together until we know how it is we all came to be here. Kostya Markov, at your service."
Kostya wore a pale hooded cloak and a set of work robes with many pockets for various tools, odds and ends of the artificer's trade. The only noticeable visible oddity would be his hands, which appeared to be coated in a silvery metal. Although hidden under his cloak, both of his arms were artificial and made of the same metal. If he hadn't been so distracted by this strange place, he likely would have put on the gloves he kept in one of his pockets before offering his hand to a complete stranger. Even in the technologically advanced Bright Republic, such things tended to draw attention, sometimes from unwanted sources.
"Let's get moving. Only that sphere up there looks important around here. Looks two miles away. Forty minutes or so, if we walk." Jebat looks to each of the others, even the hiding Khatef.
While waiting for his new crew to realize that that was a good idea, he commits some effort in breaking the shackles of gravity.
Beatrice smiles at the man, taking his hand to get up on her feet. She looks at the mechanical hand, visibly intrigued. A Vissian model, maybe? Or is it Bright Republics technology?
"Thank you, Kostya, I am Beatrice. Beatrice Rucellai, you may have heard of me."
She looks around at the alien landscape, her ears taking up as many details as her eyes. "The splintering of the sky, that ominous sphere, and... whatever this is. Could this be one of the celestial engines? We'll only know if we get moving. And it's a pleasure to meet you too, Sir Pirate."
As Jebat lifts from the ground, she has a motion of shock, but quickly regains her composure. "Oh, I see. You can fly. You" she points at Khatef "are hiding from sight. At first I thought it was low magic, but no, you're stronger. I can shed light and see in the night, I can blind people and move hearts with a song. How about you, Kostya? You have gifts as well?"
Khatef stiffens, startled as he is revealed not once, but twice. He rubs his stump worriedly for a moment, but eventually curses under his breath and reveals himself.
"You're the first person to ever see me when I'm hidden. Does it not work on any of you?"
"I assume from your bragging," he addresses Beatrice "and your..." he waves an arm around Jebat "That we're all similarly gifted?"
He spares a glance up at the strange sphere.
"Are you sure it's a good idea to move closer to that thing? It looks like it's destroying everything near it. Not that we have much choice.."
After lifting off three feet to test his powers in this new world, he lands and smiles at the lady. "Sorry, Beatrice Rucellai. I'm neither a Sir nor a Pirate that I would care to admit. I am Captain Jebat Nadim."
To Khatef, the captain replies, "Good idea or not. That thing appears to be the only destination that I can see. Maybe from a higher elevation, I can see further. Either way, we should walk and talk."
Khatef's brain *pings* slightly as Jebat mentions he's not a pirate.
Interesting.
"Well...lead the way then." Khatef says, gesturing with his left arm toward the orb.
Assuming someone DOES start walking, he follows.
Beatrice grins at the accusation of bragging. She's not unfamiliar with that, but after all, what's the use in modesty when you're the youngest soprano in history to play the Starflaming Queen of Night?
"Oh, I apologize if I offended you, Captain Nadim. I was born blind, you see, and regained my sight only recently, so I couldn't see much of the world yet. Your appearance reminded me of the pirate in Der Fliegende Raktianer, and I jumped to conclusions. I apologize again."
"And it would seem that way. I've researched something about these powers in the last months, after I acquired them and gained my sight. Words of Creation, they're called, but nobody knows much. A theory mentions that they're shards of divine power, another claims it's the human need to believe in something, fueling powerful magic. The only thing that's certain is that these powers are above and beyond low magic."
She starts heading towards the sphere. A weird company, people who seem to share similar gifts to mine. Were we brought here by someone? By fate? By necessity? To heal the world?
As the third man became visible Kostya's eye narrowed in suspicion. The only one attempting to hide, for a second Kostya wondered if this new figure was the one who had brought them there. But listening to the reactions of others it was clear that Kostya was the only one who could no see him. Furthermore it quickly became apparent that this newest arrival seemed no more comfortable here than anyone else. Curiously, the newest arrival was the only one not to provide a name. Kostya might have focused more on that if it weren't for the fact that their Captain Jebat displayed the rather fascinating ability to fly.
"What a strange group we are, like one of the Bright Republic's entertainment broadcasts about the 'heroes' of the Special Resources Department. A man who can will others to not see him, a woman who can bring light and bend emotions through song, a Captain who seems as perfectly at home in the skies as the sea and a tinkerer with a strong right hook," Kostya said as they began moving towards the sphere. His description of himself was modest but not incorrect. Kostya could build almost anything out of the materials he had on hand, he worked as quickly as a thousand men on his projects and he could lift a small house and toss it aside. But their third companion had made the point that perhaps giving too much information to perfect strangers wasn't the wisest course. Beatrice showed no such compunction apparently, giving out a great deal of information about herself and what she guessed of their situation. She was apparently quite knowledgeable. Not at all the cultural destroying harpy that some Bright Republic entertainment companies would want you to believe. He smiled a bit at that thought, they were full of themselves and hated Vissian influence.
"Maybe we can get a better view of what we are heading towards," Kostya said as he began grabbing things out of pockets and picking up a few strange objects as they passed them. In no time flat he had somehow managed to piece together a monocular. Jebat had managed to figure out how far away the object was and had an easily unobstructed view so Kostya tossed it to him, holding back so he didn't overshoot, "Captain, catch!"
The captain catches the telescope and attempts to examine the swarm heading towards them.
He had never made it off the customs-controlled docks of the Bright Republic to have an inkling as to what the robed man was referencing. He chalked it up to gobbledygook like the lady's Der Fly-in-the-Rack.
Passengers from the Bright Republic had described televisors to Jebat a few times, but he never really understood them having never seen one. The idea of flat puppet shows did not translate well. His Vissian patron, the merchant-prince Girolamo Riario, had also attempted to introduce the Kasirutan ship captain to high culture on several unsuccessful occasions: opera. He really only enjoyed the drinking and the women afterwards. And then mostly only one of them, because Vissian drinks were so thin, except of course, grappa.
So years ago, Jebat had taken one of the Vissian's pearls of wisdom to heart, "better to look like a fool, than to open your mouth and prove it." He learned to practice this behavior regularly with his passengers who paid very well. They expected their captain to be a sailing expert and worldly knowledgeable. Jebat probably was one and definitely faked the other, almost as much as he pretended not to be a pirate.
Now, it appears that Jebat treated these strangers like well-paying passengers rather than crew. After all, if they were crew, he would have just playfully insulted them and ordered them to follow.
Bright Republics entertainment companies. The most aggressive economic force on the Vissian cultural sphere, Beatrice is familiar with them. She had been scheduled to visit the place as an ambassador of the arts, before the incident, before Camilla Ridolfi's assassination attempt caused her powers to awaken.
Is Kostya from the Republics? Likely, considering the weird, artificial nature of his arms. But he also seems kind enough.
Captain Nadim seems to be a practical man, possibly used to danger. I'll have to be careful, but he could be good to be on the same side.
The one who worries me is the silent, sneaky man. What's his story? What happened to his hand? Why is he afraid of us? But there's a time and place for stories, and it's not now.
"What... are these things? Do we flee? Or... or fight?"
Her arms motion outwards, sending ripples through her silken coat, and suddenly every shadow within two hundred feet points towards her, as if she was absorbing light. Swirls of pure darkness envelop her hands.
Khatef turns slightly, keeping a close eye alternately on the encroaching balls of light and the weapons Beatrice manifested from nothing.
"Fight? Fight what? Balls of light? How? Let's just keep moving."
If it weren't for the fact that Kostya had seen first hand what strange inhuman things he himself was capable of he might have though himself drugged or dreaming. While he had never been in favor of recreational drug use he was beginning to question that this wasn't just some strange dream. It was all very surreal. A woman in a star patterned cloak calling up darkness to potentially snuff out floating motes of light? Logic failed to explain any of it, Kostya smiled, fascinated despite himself.
"Unless whatever it is bothers us I say we make haste towards the orb. If I can get close enough to examine it I can probably figure out what it is or what it does," Kostya said as he gazed up at the massive sphere that seemed to dominate whatever reality they currently inhabited. None the less he kept an eye on the floating balls of light, if one approached he was ready to swing at it. And although his silver arms might not be rippling with apparent muscle, the strength behind his blows was more than most mere humans could imagine.
Jebat stows the telescope in a pocket in the few seconds that he realizes their immediate hostility. Then, he unconsciously draws his cutlass and shield out of habit more than anything. How useful will they be against spheres of light?
Then consciously, he calls upon his new powers to test if the spheres are immune to lightning and if lightning can be called on this world.
As the spheres move in to attack, Beatrice's heart starts racing. What's the deal with everything trying to kill me? I just wanted to be the best soprano in the world!
But fear can be conquered whether it's stage fright or the rush of combat, and Beatrice knows anger and wrath, through her favorite aria ever. A devilishly hard piece, turning her voice into a clarion, a magnificent, powerful anthem to rage and destruction, the performance that earned her, only sixteen, a place among the most renowned singers in Vissio. And she sings now, her voice resonating clear and strong through the wasteland, her enchanted garb shining with faint starlight as she conjures darkness to envelop the opposing light.
(Hear, hear, hear, Gods of Vengeance)
Suddenly Kostya's smile dropped from his face completely. Any interest or curiosity he had been feeling was swept aside when the open hostility seemed to thrum through the air from the lights. Kostya tried his best to remain personable, friendly, to laugh and joke with his family and the people he occasionally worked with. He feared deep down that he truly was replacing his humanity piece by piece at times. But when his life was threatened, all concern for appearances went out the window and he focused on surviving. So even as his fellow Godbound began manifesting their powers in miraculous ways Kostya gathered his strength up into himself and willed himself able to reach out and strike at the creatures threatening him. And just like that, he knew how.
Kostya's legs bent ever so slightly at the knees before he leapt into the air at the orbs, cracking the rock landscape he had been standing on a moment ago with the force of his ascent. As he passed the spheres he lashed out with one of his fists. It wasn't exactly precise or elegant but if he could get the timing down right their ability to fly wouldn't help them avoid him.
|
Khatef looks around, put off by how willing these people were to just throw themselves into a fight.
He backs slowly away from the light balls, then realizes he has nowhere to run.
"I really wish I could help!" he says, shrinking in on himself somewhat, before disappearing.
What he doesn't notice as he looks at his feet, arms over his head, is a slight shifting in the atmosphere around him, as if things are subtly changing.
In the aftermath of Kostya's leap, the rocks he'd cracked were drawn into his slipstream, flying up behind him and pelting the light swarm with improbable efficacy.
As her singing paused, Beatrice's ears picked up notes coming from the spheres, acrid notes in the Song of the World. But those notes were part of a melody, and melody is sister to dance. Instinctively, she whirled in a pirouette, moving out of harm's way and back facing the spheres, and she sang the second half of her line, again casting darkness at the foe through the Queen of Night's fury.
(Hear a mother's oath!)
Now, the violins should start with the finale. Exit stage left. Fragorous applause.
Electricity circulates around Jebat. He doesn't know what is going on other than his life is endanger. Perhaps, he'll wake up on the floor of the tavern among the other drunks. Whichever, he'll fight to the end.
He waits for gravity to clear the jumper from the hostile spheres. Then, he points his cutlass toward them again and rains lightning.
Kostya landed hard, his heels digging into the rocky ground for several feet before he was able to arrest his momentum. He then took a few quick steps to build up speed again and launched himself once more up at where the spheres floated. They had managed to destroy several of them but the swarm of lights wasn't done with them yet it seemed. Kostya's leaps were also taking him closer to their ultimate objective. He would just keep launching himself at the ones nearer the giant floating sphere until he could get there himself and perhaps examine it. He wasn't sure what was causing the orbs to be hostile, but if they had come from the massive sphere in the sky then maybe there was a way to avoid their hostility. He would need to be up close and examine the sphere to figure anything out though and he didn't like his odds of doing that while being attacked. So for now he lashed out once again at the apex of his arc, passing by the spheres.
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Khatef stumbles backwards, more shocked than hurt by the ball's attack. He looks on in amazement as Beatrice and Jebat coordinate their attacks in perfect sync, his lightning bolts striking her thrown dagger after it hit its initial target and deflecting it toward another ball.
Unfortunately it doesn't hit, but it was a spectacular display.
Have they fought together before?
Jebat screams at everyone with electricity circulating around him.
"I think we need to get to the world think over there. The fastest way over there would be if I fly us. You two grab hold of the jumper, and I'll grab him." The captain offers.
"You got any better ideas? Let's hear 'em fast." genuine concern bleeds through his tone from an ordinarily unflappable demeanor.
The battle, the rush and the use of her powers prove heavy to handle for Beatrice, and staggers dizzily, her knees trembling. Seeing the ominous void behind the sky does nothing to raise her heart. What? How did I get into this? Why is this happening? WHAT is this?
Jebat's shouts shake her from her stupor. She doesn't question his ability to carry three more persons in flight, and she grasps Kostya's arm, shivering. "No ideas! Get us to the sphere, per la miseria!"
Khatef, battered, is too frightened to be suspicious of these people any more.
He wraps his right arm against Kostya's left and grips his left elbow tightly.
"I don't care! Just please get us out of here!"
Seeing the two grab hold of the jumper who he knew could support them, Jebat quickly stows his cutlass and shield as his plan comes together. He slowly pushes away from the rocky soil toward the strangers. He grabs the jumper from the back hooking a hand under each arm and slowly lifts off. When everyone seems secure, he accelerates toward the world thing.
Kostya's mind was starting to hurt from perceiving things which simply shouldn't be. Not just empty space but a lack of even emptiness beyond the reality they took shelter in, the sphere that was trying in vain to hold reality together even while it defied reason itself. Whatever the sphere was it seemed to be the only thing holding this place together. It was fascinating, and horrifying, Kostya found himself growing academically interested again.
"It seems that the sphere is somehow so strongly tied to this reality that it is a fixed constant. Its size and the essence of what it is doesn't seem to be mutable, even as it fights against the rapid changes of this realm. I should be able to figure out more about it in just a moment," Kostya said as they flew towards the sphere. He was very careful to keep his arms completely immobile at his sides. As long as they didn't let go there wasn't much either of the two could do to shake him. He was mildly surprised at the Captain though. Kostya weighed more than a normal human and carrying three regular people around would be impressive for most. It seemed Kostya wasn't the only one who could handle some heavy lifting.
Upon reaching the sphere, provided no more orbs shot out and attempted to murder them, Kostya would study it to see if he could learn anything about it. If it was something that had been built then he could learn its purpose and a bit about who made it and what they had intended it for. It might be enough to give him a clue for how to escape this place before it fell apart completely.
Between whimpers, somehow Beatrice manages to reply to Kostya while holding on to him for dear life. "I didn't understand a word you just said!" she cries out.
Jebat strained against the gravity of the strangers. The jumper weighed more than he looked. The jumper also seemed to be figuring out what was going on, which was good. Because, Jebat had no idea what was going on. He still would put good odds on waking up on a tavern floor.
As he flew his passengers toward the globe, he tried to orient himself with the seas and coast that he knew like the back of his hand. Was that Arcem? Could he find his archipelago and home?
"What if there's no way out? What happens then?" Khatef worries.
Despite his awe at this...thing, Khatef's voice takes on a hard, unpleasant edge as he replies.
"I think I've lost enough, of what little I had at the start. If I saved those people and the world, they should be giving to me, not the other way around."
Jabet shakes his head and blinks hard twice to try to see things as clearly as possible. When the craziness doesn't significantly change, he sighs heavily.
He actively listens to the fresh memory trying to digest what he can comprehend. The captain enjoys making deals and ignores the sneaky one's hard bargaining. "Why does Arcem need saving from the Night?"
Getting back to solid land, Beatrice drops to all fours, taking some moments to steady herself. She tentatively stands again, shivering all over, gaping at the portentous being. That's it. I give up trying to understand, for now. But a powerful creature offering a dangerous quest... Oh, I know the tale. I have been that creature, on stage. And the journey was perilous, but happiness was to be found at the end...
Steadying her voice as she always did before singing, she speaks with a confidence that shocks her. "I've been powerless in the night for too long, almost all my life. I would give anything to prevent going back to darkness, losing on everything that I still have to see. What would you ask of us, Sir Eistibus?"
As the only one who hadn't yet told his name started asking for things, she glanced at him. What made him so bitter? So suspicious?
Having heard enough to make a decision, the captain replies, "I just got the power to make a difference. I won't be responsible for the end of the world, if I can help it. I'm in. What do I have to do?"
While he still doesn't know or even believe what is going on, he has enough determination and ambition in life to commit himself, even in dream.
Kostya let go of logic for the time being, it seemed it would do him no good. He would have to embrace entirely new concepts to make any sense of things. As the being unfolded into reality before them and questioned their willingness to fight back against the Night Kostya immediately thought of all he had been through up to this point, “I have fought all my life to build a better future for myself and for my family. Building things, fixing what’s been broken, it has been the only thing that ever really made sense to me. If I have the chance to help fix whatever is wrong with our world of course I’ll do it. So please, teach me what I can do to fix… this.”
At that Kostya gestures out at the fractures spreading through the area around them, quickly racing towards the engine that sustained their world. He didn’t need to be told twice that time was quickly running out, that was becoming readily apparent.
"Night..." Beatrice whispers, motes of darkness dancing on her fingertips. "...and Day." Her body shines brightly for a moment, the stars flaring on her coat. "It's a theme shared by many of the most beautiful stories, Light against Dark, the High Priest of the Sun against the terrible and beautiful Queen of Night. Where the Sun has peace, harmony, prosperity, Night has a wild, dark, consuming passion. It's only in the night that one can dream."
She looks at her hands for a moment, wondering if her opposite powers, both of Light and Dark, which she associated to beauty and dreams, don't actually hide a more disquieting nature.
"But the one we'd fight is not the night of the sleepers. It would be the last night, the eternal dying of the light, the undiscovered country, la fatal quiete. That, I dislike. That is not sublime passion, but the quiet death of all that's beauty in this world. And I can't accept that. How can I help?"