Fantasy Tethered ( ellarose & Syntra. )

[ellarose]

"It is just a cane, Cyrra." Faline said simply, tilting her head confusedly as she noticed her worry. "Why would I need to cast a spell upon it?" That story was clearly just a story. Perhaps the artifact possessed some type of magic-- with the voice and the falling rain, there is certainly evidence to it. The extent of the power must have been exaggerated to dissuade anyone who believed in Julian from touching it. (Why might that be? Well... she was unsure. The man's motives eluded her.) The artifact also hissed as Cyrra got close, the temperature becoming icier yet. Hm. How curious! If Endymion were there, perhaps they could help her identify what kind of magic this was. "...It may sense your fear. If you have been taught to be fearful of lashes, then it will lash out." The magic in the other realm tended to work this way as well. It was often used to test beliefs, to test fears and other such concepts. It was built to search and draw upon inner strength. The strength of one's very soul. "I believe it is just a stick. And so... a stick it shall be." She nodded as if this explanation made perfect sense. In her mind it did, anyway.

"Perhaps the plants were yearning for a drink of water all of this time? They've no need for a dryad anymore, for all they truly needed was some rain. The cane being lodged in the earth might have somehow prevented the rain from reaching them." Faline looked around at the plants. "That would explain the thirst for blood, as well as the desert sands. I am glad that we were able to rid them of this curse." (Could Julian have cursed the forest? But why? ...The man sounded so horrible that she might never understand his true motives. Time told her he must be stopped, however, with all of the lies he spouted about eternity.)

"...Really? Goodness. That is a shame, isn't it? Humans can be rather disappointing sometimes." Faline mused, frowning at the prospect of such a dispute taking such a bloody turn. Ah, she was sounding like her friends from the other realm, speaking such a sentence about humans. (Natos had told her much about these subjects-- how humans would fight amongst themselves for their beliefs, for 'gods' they had never even met. How in the name of being virtuous in the eyes of such a god they would stain their hands with blood. It did not make much sense to her... although a great deal of things did not.) Conversing with words sounded preferable to the alternative. It seemed to her that it would even save lives. Time took everyone eventually... but sometimes humans took matters into their own hands, and by their own will ended lives which did not need to end yet. (Those were the lives she was permitted to save-- in order to respect time and death alike. To appease death she needed to pay a toll. There was no way for her to save those whose time was up. Because eternity did not-- should not-- exist.) "Who is to say if they are truly smarter? I am sure that Julian possesses power, that is indisputable. But have you ever considered that he misuses it to convince people that he is a 'god' to earn unquestioning, undying loyalty?"

Faline traced the ridges on the cane, thinking deeply about it. She recalled the long conversations she had with Natos over tea, in which he spoke to her a great deal about humans and the things they feared. There were some she once deemed silly-- like the dark. Others, though, were more complex. Like the concept of 'the gods' who would ultimately judge them when they passed. But from what she understood, gods were as much of a fantasy as the daydreams she spun within her own mind. She perked back up when Cyrra asked what she thought about all of this.

"Oh. There are no gods. They are a manmade concept used to explain the unknown." Faline mentioned casually, as if she were perhaps discussing her favorite color again, shrugging her shoulders up to her ears. Granny had never set her down to speak with her about any sort of faith. The information she got on this subject from the other realm often implied that the creatures very much to call themselves 'gods' but were actually wearing that title as a clever masquerade to scare nosey humans away. In Thulu's case, he said he used it to ensure that the oceans were kept 'clean of filth' in his presence. "There are powerful, impartial forces in this world. Like time and death. Nature." She tipped her head back, watching the canopy of green leaves shaking above and listening to the rain dance through the branches with a soft, beautiful 'pitter-patter'. She smiled at the feeling of droplets on her face. (And when she smiled? The rain around them fell just a bit lighter, as if to treat them more gently.) "They are unburdened by meagre human desires... like the desire to be worshiped, for instance. They'd prefer to be respected, I think. There are also a select few who hear those forces at work and harness them, like me with time. For that reason I am quite powerful as well. But you do not see me calling myself a god." Faline giggled at the concept. Because, well... how silly would that be?! "Natos once told me I could convince people that I am quite easily! However, that sort of thing never sounded appealing to me. I wanted to live among other humans... I wanted to make friends. Like you." And friends did not try to control their friends with their magic! Time instructed her on how it ought to be respected and so she did just that. And if she wanted for anything-- like Cyrra's life? She had to offer up her own sacrifices. (Ah, yes. She would have to pay up within the next month or so, wouldn't she?)

"Julian must be like me somehow. Perhaps he has convinced people to believe him a god... and is using his power to justify the fact that he is 'smarter' when he is, in fact, just using that power as a tool to prevent others from thinking for themselves. How cruel." Faline sighed softly. Most of this admittedly came from her teachers-- Natos, Thulu, Lucille. Time itself also confirmed this, in the way it whispered and pulled her along an invisible thread. Either way, it rather sounded to her like this 'Julian' was a terrible, terrible man who hid himself away so that people would not see him for the fraud that he was. Spouting lies about eternity, undoubtedly manipulating and disrespecting the forces that kept their world intact to achieve that effect and stun the masses. (Perhaps that was a cruel thought for Faline of all people to have... but perhaps she resented the effect that his actions had on Cyrra's life. She resented the fact that he disrespected time itself, too. Eternity for any human did not exist! It was not supposed to.) "I do not use my power for those purposes and am instead labeled a witch for it. Either way, I suppose it is a rather lonely life to live."

"I am sure if you listened very carefully, you might hear the voice of time as well." Faline mentioned. Cyrra was offered some portion of the Kairos magic, after all! "It might explain everything much better than I can. They do not necessarily speak with words... but you can understand them if you listen for them."

 

[Syntra]

During the course of her relatively short life, Cyrra Eiréal had dealt with an amount of bullshit that was downright impressive. She was familiar with many strains of it, and for her convenience, she had created many, many, many mental categories to fit each type-- there was fucking bullshit, for example, motherfucking bullshit, and last but not least, concentrated fucking bullshit. The stuff that Faline was spewing, though? That deserved a category of its own! “Just a cane?” the assassin repeated, completely aghast. (An independent observer might have come to the conclusion that Faline had murdered her favorite grandmother at least, or perhaps kicked a kitten in front of her. Just, what? It was a stick because she… believed it to be a stick? Those were certainly words, and also words organized in something that could reasonably be called a sentence, but they made about as much sense as braying would have to Cyrra. Fuck, that wasn’t how the world worked! Things didn’t exist just because people wanted them to be what they were. As far as the assassin was concerned, the universe was actually real fucking good at giving her the exact opposite of what her wishes might have been! How come, then?) “Nonsense,” she snorted. “If that’s true, then why… why isn’t this,” she pointed at a small rock near her left foot, “why isn’t this a gold nugget? ‘Cause I sure as fuck do want it to be a gold nugget. Maybe it’s just some exceptionally rude rock that insists on its rockiness,” what, “but that’s been my experience with literally everything. The world doesn’t fucking change for me.” (People didn't, either. For all the sanctimonious bullshit about 'brotherhood' and 'sacred connections,' Cyrra had always been alone. Alone, aside from... Shit! No, no, no, the assassin wasn't about to include the witch into the companion category. No. fucking. way. She just wanted to... so something reasonable? Just, get the fuck out of her head.)

"I guess," she shrugged, following the thread of Faline's imagination. That plants wanted water was a normal enough assumption-- or at least as normal as it got in the context of her perpetually fucked up life. (And, yes, the concentration of that was depressingly low! Had the assassin not held the deepest contempt for those who succumbed to alcohol, she would have said she needed a fucking drink.) "Although I still don't get why some of them act up and others don't. I mean, I definitely killed my fair share of flowers and none of them ever came back to fucking haunt me." Besides, why would Julian's cane be obstructing the flow? Julian couldn't be bothered with some no-name forest, presumably doing forest-y things. Which included, what, growing? Hiding animals? A god must have had better things to do-- hell, even Cyrra had better things to do, and that was saying something.

('Oh, you might think so, Cyrra Eiréal. That's only because overlooking the big picture is your favorite hobby, though. How many times has been it already, hmm?')

"I... no?" The assassin hadn't looked terrified when she'd dealt with other dimensions, demons, and assorted time-related bullshittery, and she would break the nose of anyone claiming that she looked terrified now, too, but... well, she did. Kind of. (Her eyes were as wide as saucers, her mouth hung open. What the fuck was Faline saying, even?) "The gods would never fucking do that. Never. The power they've been granted is theirs for a reason." ...much like Father's was. Never once in history had it happened that power had fallen into the wrong fucking hands, or that it had corrupted its bearer. Heh! (It wasn't foolish. That was the most scary thing here. Because, once Cyrra examined what Faline said? Once she really looked at her words, without getting too defensive? They didn't ring hollow. They rang of something... something she didn't fucking wish to name.) "And don't 'humans can be so disappointing' me! As if you aren't human yourself," Cyrra pouted. "The point is, you aren't fucking supposed to question these things. If you do, the gods will hate you." ...yeah, a real convincing argument. She saw it, in vivid colors, despite not wanting to-- all the ways in which it could be cut, destroyed, torn to fucking shreds. Before she could even begin to process that, though? Faline dropped another bomb, with all the casualness of a waitress serving her guests a bottle of wine. Gods did not exist? Julian was like her? Faline could be a god? Those may as well have been the words of a spell meant to rouse one's anger, because Cyrra's certainly was swelling in her chest. (It couldn't all be a lie. Couldn't, couldn't, couldn't! If it was, then... then she'd stained her hands for nothing, and Ran had been defiled for nothing, and!!!)

Sharply, the assassin took a steadying breath. "And how do you even know all that? You visited their heavenly fucking castle and saw that nobody was home, huh? Listen, I know that you've seen some shit," judging by their recent adventures, it was more shit than anyone should have seen, "but you don't fucking know everything. You just don't. You didn't even know about the great fish war, so how can you say that the gods don't fucking exist?!" Almost against her will, passion crept into Cyrra's voice. "I was raised in the fucking Temple. They taught me about this, and so..." You were in the prime position to swallow their lies, some traitorous part of her whispered. Of fucking course! It was normal that such thoughts would be born from a witch's suggestions, for those were the seeds corruption sprouted from. (No, Cyrra didn't need to acknowledge it. See, acknowledging it would be just pouring salt into her many wounds, and there would be no benefit to that. Absolutely none.) "And what do you even mean by that, listening to the voice of time? I can't hear shit, Faline." ...and it was better that way, too. Much, much better, and yet Cyrra couldn't stop herself from extending her hand, knowing that she'd get burnt. I won't. My faith will protect me. The gods... they won't lead me astray. "How can I hear what you're hearing?" Only because she had to prove it was fucking bullshit, of course!

 

[ellarose]

"Some exceptionally rude rock that insists on it's rockiness. My, my." Faline mused, kneeling down next to the rock as if she was deeply considering it. (More than anything it was a very fun phrase and for that reason she simply had to repeat it, if only to engrave it in her memory. That was one thing she would not want to forget. Well, that and all of her adventures with Cyrra thus far. The entities could take the endless days she spent waiting around for her life to begin within the cottage. These ones, though? Every day beyond it, which was so exciting and new? She would not allow any entity to touch them.) "Is that what you are?" She asked the rock politely, patting the rock like one might pat their beloved dog on the head. She understood what the assassin meant, although that wasn't exactly what she had meant to say. Cyrra was still accustoming herself to the magic, though, so she supposed she would simply have to be patient about this. "This cane insists on it's caneness, too. Because it is just a cane. It is indeed touched by magic, but it requires belief in the stories surrounding it to activate. Because I do not believe in those stories, I am able to repel the magic rather than inviting it inside of me. This type of enchantment... it feasts on fear. It shapes the world as you see it." She nodded sagely. It all made perfect sense to her. However, she essentially grew up in the other realm where these lessons were crucial to her survival. Endymion helped her along the way, of course, but much of it she had to find out by making her own mistakes. Time and magic itself also guided her along and were often the best teachers. They would know themselves the very most, would they not? And so she respected them greatly.

Faline paused when Cyrra spoke of the plants and instinctually quieted her thoughts to listen to the rain. Unfortunately she was not attuned to the forests the way the dryad had been. As everything was connected, she knew that such magic existed in the world, much like her own magic over time. But she was not powerful enough to wield both. She could just hear hints of it whispering in the wind, when it stirred the flowers and rustled through the branches overhead. (This forest asked for the woman's help and then ate her to quench their thirst. That much she understood. As for why? Well, she could not say.) "I cannot say for sure. Perhaps we will find the answers to your questions as we continue our journey. We may not understand the full story until we find all of the artifacts." How mysterious. It twisted her stomach in knots and sank her heart, however, to consider that each artifact might have other unfortunate souls attached to them.

"The false gods can hate me all they like." Faline said softly, waving her hand the way she might have waved a hand to keep the chickens from getting into her cooking ingredients. They could hate her the same way that everyone else did when they first met her. Because she was a 'witch'. As far as she was concerned it was not such a great loss. The gods as the assassin described them sounded like mere scoundrels. "I would not choose to worship someone who is so quick to hate, anyhow." If the 'gods' created everything, then why would they make human beings so very complex? If all they wanted were mindless followers, then perhaps they should have created a world where their creations could not think for themselves. There were a great many thoughts and questions she had on the subject-- but she could tell at this point that the conversation was getting to Cyrra. Had it not upset her so, she would have even gone as far to state that she would sooner worship the chicken prince than someone like Julian.

"That is true. There... There are many things I do not know. I am not claiming to know everything." Faline acknowledged, her cheeks warming with a soft pink. (Embarrassment, as she was coming to learn. She hadn't experienced that emotion much throughout her life in the cottage... but since meeting Cyrra, there have been a few instances like these. Perhaps because, as true friends, she cared more about what the other woman thought of her in comparison to what granny thought of her? There was much she still needed to learn about the mortal realm. Because of her upbringing, it was plain to see that she was far behind in many ways.) While she strove to be patient, she found passion bleeding into her voice as well. "However, if I do know about anything in this world it is magic. And chickens, I suppose. But mostly magic." It was clear to her that they had drastically different viewpoints on this subject... but there was hope, wasn't there? Cyrra stated that she was willing to try and understand what she was trying to say. That counted for something, did it not?

"I will show you!" Faline beamed, twirling around so her mud-speckled skirts flowed around her. She swirled the cane whimsically over her head like a magic wand. "I will show you after we return the artifact to Tolorro. We mustn't keep the crew waiting. They will be wanting dinner soon and Alf will require my help in the kitchen." At last she had a role in the mortal realm as well as people who relied on her for something. It was rather rewarding and she simply had to honor her commitments. "Come on, Cyrra! Let's race back to the ship!" She took off giggling like a little kid, sliding through the mud, not checking to see whether the assassin was following her lead.

***​

The artifact was promptly returned to the captain's quarters after they discovered it. (When it was set back in place, the ship trembled... rather like previously undisturbed snow falling off the side of a rooftop like powder. Endymion was rousing. She could feel it... and it provided even more incentive to find the other artifacts soon.) Faline proceeded to prepare dinner, which consisted of salted meat and some fresh fruits that a portion of the crew had foraged for on the island. (It was not often that they could enjoy them at sea so it was an especially delightful treat.) Once that was done and she and Cyrra returned to their room for the night, she summoned up a door to the other realm. "You can hear the voice of time anywhere if you truly listen for it. But there are many distractions in this realm and this is your first time. Therefore I think it would be best to take this lesson elsewhere." She clapped her hands together. "Luckily I know just the place!"

When they stepped through the door, they were no longer in the creaky old ship but standing in the courtyard of a magnificent castle. It was much like stepping into a painting from a fairytale, dripping with beiges, gold, and pops of green and dusty pink from the overgrown vines and flowers sprawling around the pillars. (If one looked a little closer, they might find some rather ridiculous details scattered around the place. Such as the fact that there were elaborate statues of cats and chickens scattered all about as well. Skillfully crafted monuments to Endymion, Hector, Lady Featherington, and several other animals.) The plants were not maintained at all-- but there was a certain charm to the way the flowers grew however they liked.

"This is my castle, Cyrra! The one I told you about the other night." Faline announced, skipping on ahead. When she approached the gigantic entranceway, a large creature stomped in their path.

"Who goes there!?" A voice bellowed. Three heads bowed down to get a good look at them. "Ah, Miss Kairos! Welcome back."

"Look. She has a visitor!" The right head gasped, indicating Cyrra. "A friend or..." The left said. The two looked at each other excitedly behind the center head and began whispering something inaudible.

"You numbskulls! Quit gossiping like schoolgirls. You're being very rude." The center head huffed. (He was probably just upset that he was left out.) "Miss Kairos, who is this? It is not often you bring visitors." He was just being polite. Faline had never brought visitors with her, with the exception of Endymion.

"This is Cyrra. She is my... friend." Faline nodded decisively. She supposed that was the right term for now. Then she gestured her arms out towards her beloved guards to give them a grand introduction. "Cyrra, this is Cerberus! Aren't they the sweetest?"

If a three-headed dog could blush, this one definitely did. The right and left heads peered back out from behind the center one. "A friend. I see. So we will not be preparing a room with rose petals, then?" (The other two chorused with a "Shut up!") Faline tilted her head, unsure of what they were getting at. Deciding it was nothing too important, she carried right on along.

"We will be going to the study. Will you call for Linus?"

"Right away, Miss Kairos." Cerberus nodded and turned to do just that. Faline ushered Cyrra inside the entranceway, which was aglow, smattered with speckles of rainbow colors filtering in through the stained glass windows all around. The pictures in the glass depicted Faline through different stages of her childhood, as well as more birds and cats.

"Miss Kairos! ...Miss Cyrra. Good day." Linus walked in, then. He was a black cat walking on his hind legs, wearing a butler's uniform. He had bright red eyes... but this feature did not disturb Faline in the slightest. "We have a little mouse problem today. We are taking care of it now... but the process might go faster if you are willing to help us." (A squeaking and a mischievous giggling could be heard echoing in the walls as this was said.)

"Oh rats." Faline frowned and then grinned, realizing that her phrase was rather fitting with the sticky situation they had found themselves in. (Hehe! She was so clever!) "Of course we will help. Right, Cyrra?"

"Very well." The cat butler nodded, reaching into his pocket to produce two headbands with cat ears on them. These were promptly magicked onto their heads. "Now we best be off!"