RP:Are You There, Cyris? It's Me, Khitti
Part of the What You Leave Behind Arc
Summary: Khitti and Brand head to Larket on a short pilgrimage to Cyris' chapel. There, Khitti speaks face to face with Seika, the sprite inside Tenbatsu Kaji as Brand ponders over a warning from Onyx that'd been gifted to the couple before they left Cenril. Facilier's forces make themselves known again in the holy building in an attempt to steal KhittiBrand's unborn child, but Cyris--through Seika--help the pair. Khitti's gifted with a new ability and Brand is left in awe at the power of the god of Freedom and Independence.
The Tranquility, Cenril
Khitti and Brand were packing their bags for Larket -- and Cyris' temple -- when Brand stopped abruptly in front of the dresser. The box Onyx had left was pulsing with light again, though he was sure it had been still even just five minutes ago. Why now? Quizzical, Brand pulled it off the shelf. The box popped open in his hands. A note flew out from the cover and fluttered toward the floor; Brand cursed and ducked to catch it, dropping his bag and spilling half its contents in the process. But catch the note he did, and in grave silence he examined it and the box's contents before handing them both to Khitti. "Say nothing. Facilier is always listening," read the note. "You know what this is and what it does. Wear it when the child comes, and I will do the rest." Inside rested a familiar pendant with a lapis lazuli center -- unbroken.
Khitti had her back turned, and the only thing that brought the situation with the box to her attention was the sudden cursing, scurrying to get the note, and then Brand’s bag losing the majority of its contents. She barely got out a “Brand, what the f---” before the box was shoved at her. Khitti read the note and eyed the necklace warily; it wasn’t so much the fact that it came from Onyx as it was just the necklace in general. A whole lot of bad things happened because of that bit of jewelry. It -had- brought a lot of good too, but… Without a word, Khitti snapped the box shut and shoved it into her own bag, regardless of her thoughts. The box had already helped her once, so why would now be any different? And, who knew when the hell this kid was going to show up. She said nothing to Brand--what was the point in saying anything anyway?--and continued on with her packing in silence.
Small Chapel of Cyris, Larket
The morning fog had cleared and the sun was high by the time they reached their destination. Brand kept quiet most of the way, only speaking occasionally to confirm directions or to comment on some object of interest along their path. They didn’t speak of Onyx or Facilier or happier things, but he didn’t voice any more disdain for Khitti’s sword or the gods in general, either. When they arrived, Brand only allowed himself a distrusting squint towards the temple before tying up the Tikifhlee outside and helping Khitti dismount. He kept a hand wrapped in hers even once she was safely down, pulling her attention to him before she could march off ahead. “I hope you find what you need in there. Really, I do.” Another thought lingered longer on his tongue while he debated whether or not he should give voice to it. In the end, his doubtful nature won out. “I just also worry that what you need and what the gods think you need won’t be the same thing.”
Khitti barely answered anytime something was brought up. A nod here, a shake of her head there. Yes, this was the right way. No, not that way. She really wasn’t sure what to say, afraid that it’d lead to another fight. This was not how she wanted things to go. But, nothing could ever be remotely easy for her could they? Not a single thing had been since she got to Lithrydel. Once she was off of the shadowcat, she stared at their joined hands, “It’s entirely possible that I don’t find anything. Are you going to gloat then? Are you going to tell me that this was all a mistake? Because the gods probably aren’t going to help anymore. I came back from the dead. I got a sword. I could pray ‘til my tongue fell out, but that doesn’t mean I’d be given anything else. They did their part. It’s not about what they need anymore. It’s about doing this for me--it’s like with the cure, but also it isn’t. If I don’t figure things out, I can’t protect anyone. Not you, or the kid, or Lionel. Or Lithrydel. If I don’t do something, we could die.” She pulled her hand out of his, and took a step away from Brand, finally looking up at him. “Lionel’s sudden positivity is because I yelled at him on the way to Venturil. I told him the way he was acting could destroy the hope everyone has and that’s almost as bad as Kahran taking actual lives. I’m not even sure this is going to last forever with him, but -I- have to keep the hope that we’ll win and everything will be okay going. Even if I’m the only one that does.”
Brand’s expression softened. “No. This isn’t about gloatin’ over who’s right. You’re bein’ optimistic, and that’s great. -Somebody- needs to be, like you said. I just… can’t. I don’t think it’s in my nature to be.” And he could do without the sword’s brand of cheerfulness, but this certainly wasn’t the right moment to bring that up. He stuffed his hands into his pockets and gave her a stiff shrug. “It’s ‘specially not gonna be when the gods are concerned. It’s nothin’ to do with you though. I hope it’s you that’s right and not me. But I think there’s a place for wariness as much as there’s a place for hope, yeah? I sure wish I’d had a bit more of it when Onyx was around. Do you think…?” Halfway through, he thought better of whatever it was he was going to ask. If Facilier was ‘always listening,’ that could very well mean here, too.
“I know,” Khitti said, in regards to Brand and his inability to be any shade of optimistic. “And yeah, I’m sure wariness has its place too, but I’m just so worried about getting sucked down into that pit again.” She frowned, taking that step towards him, closing the gap between them as a hand rose cautiously to his cheek. “I’m sorry. Things have been building up in my head again lately and it doesn’t take much for me to get worked up about stuff--being pregnant is making it ten times worse. Even if nothing happens here, or in the future, with the sword or the gods or anything--it doesn’t matter. There’s more important things to worry about.” She meant their child, of course. Sure, the end of the world was practically here and Facilier wanted to put his grabby hands all over her and the kid, but she had to think that it wasn’t going to end. Not like this. Not after all the work they did to get here.
“Speakin’ of which, I’m almost done with the crib. Only smashed my fingers with the hammer once, I’ll have you know.” Yeah, that was a gleam of pride in his eyes. “We might yet be ready for this kiddo you’ve got punchin’ at your insides all frakkin’ day.” He poked at her stomach, and as if to validate his point he was greeted with a one-two kick in response. “Energetic little frakker’s gonna run me ragged, I can see it now. Well? Are you ready?” For the temple, he meant, though the question could just as easily pertain to their child.
Khitti winced at that kick, “Yeah, well, it’s not their fault their parents are just as feisty. It’s probably hereditary or something.” Yeah. It’s science. Feisty parents equal a kid that’s just as bad, right? Khitti’s trying not to think about what else the kid might inherit from one of them--like Brand’s fire. The ship -is- make of wood, after all. “I’m never ready, but I’m gonna do it anyway.” ‘You only live once’ has pretty much been Khitti’s motto forever--except apparently she’s got multiple lives like a cat… but that’s not the point! “Come on.” She grabbed his hand and wandered into the temple, that sword strapped to her back (funny, it’d been quiet this entire time, as if the sprite was nice enough to respect their privacy). The chapel of Cyris was the complete opposite of the Vakmathras church in the Shadow Plane that Facilier held dominion over. Everything was kept simple, from the altar, to the pews, to decorations that littered the room. Sandalwood incense burned in a bowl on the altar, the smoke swirling up and around the elven effigy of the god of freedom and independence, as he stood there holding a sword and some flowers.
Letting out the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding, Khitti made her way towards the altar, leaving Brand to do as he wished. The sword is pulled from its scabbard and laid across the table as the former necromancer eyed the statue. The things she’d read about Cyris worried her; he was not as forgiving as Arkhen. What if she frakked things up? Khitti knelt in front of the display, as she’d seen others do at the temple to Arkhen in Sage. So far, she’d just been talking to Arkhen, especially after his help with the cure, but it was Cyris that decided to help now, and she didn’t feel quite up to his standards. “Maybe you can hear me a little more clearly now, since I don’t have that dark magic messing things up.” She drew in another breath and let it out, trying to remain calm, and also trying not to focus on the fact that Brand was in the room and likely thinking not nice things about the gods. “I’m… not sure what I’m supposed to do with this sword. I’m not exactly a devout follower and I’m only relatively new to whole fact that you, and the others even exist. I don’t know if I can be what you want your people to be.”
Brand took only a cursory look around. There wasn’t much to see here, so plain was it all. Boring statue. Boring altar. The pews were little more than benches. Brand chose one near the exit and plopped himself down. He felt too exposed in here, and it wasn’t just the lack of cover should they find themselves attacked -- although the worry had crossed his mind. No, there was something about being in a place of worship that was altogether unsettling, like he was being watched and judged by the parents he’d never met. Like he was found lacking by some guardian whose expectations he hadn’t the faintest inkling of, only an idea that nothing he’d tried so far was right and nothing ever would be.
“You’re bein’ paranoid,” he breathed, but voicing the thought did little to calm him. There was more to his discomfort than the moral standards of gods, and his mind hadn’t fully left it since the morning. Not since Khitti’s box had opened. And here in the temple, no matter how he fidgeted or tried to put his mind elsewhere, there was no distraction.
Well, might as well face it, then. Brand squirmed and threw one leg out so he could get at the inside of his pants pocket without rising from the bench. Coinpurse, keys -- ah. The familiar feel of a thin metal chain. He pulled it out, and the attached pendant along with it. The cracked lapis lazuli distorted his reflection as he stared. “What in the seven hells are you playin’ at, you cheeky little traitor?”
Khitti heard the sound of metal clinking together, an eyebrow raised at it. What the hell was Brand doing back there? Oi. Okay. Focus. Brand is not here. You’re the only one here. Talking to a god. Who probably isn’t listening. You’ve done this a hundred times now at the beach. You can do the thing. “I’m trying, at least… but I’m worried. What’s going to happen if I frak everything up? Arkhen’s forgiven me for a lot of things, but I don’t think you’d do that. I want to fight, for all the things you stand for, but I don’t know if that’s good enough. I don’t know if -I- can be good enough and I’m worried I’m going to lose everything I worked for.” She’d long since closed her eyes in an attempt to focus on the task at hand, and so the subtle golden glow of Tenbatsu Kaji went unnoticed.
The color shifted from yellow, to orange, to red. Red like Brand’s fire. Like Lionel’s clothing of late. Like the aura that Khitti practically oozed when she was feeling rather passionate about something. [You worry too much. Has anyone ever told you this?] The voice -- -the- voice that usually came from the sword -- came from behind Khitti now. That… couldn’t be right. Khitti was imagining things. Well, she thought she was, until she ever so calmly glanced over her shoulder. And then things weren’t so calm anymore. Khitti let out a yelp and scurried backwards, as if trying to get away, but alas the path was blocked by the altar. All that ruckus almost knocked Cyris’ likeness over, but thankfully it teetered back into place. [Whoa, whoa. It’s alright.] Seika held her hands out towards the redhead, in an attempt to settle things.
What had been a disembodied voice up until now, was now a woman that stood a little taller than Khitti, but not quite so much as Brand. Perhaps she’d been something else to the rest of Tenbatsu Kaji’s owners if they ever saw her, but for now, Seika looked like a warrior, dressed from shoulder-to-toe in rose gold half-plate and leathers. Her skin was a ruddy sort of tint and her long mane of hair like ever-flowing holy fire, held back from her face by only a simple circlet of the same metal as the rest of her armor.
Brand jolted to his feet, but what he saw was not what Khitti saw. For him, the walls of the temple had fallen away, and he stood on the roof of a narrow tower. In the moonless night he could not make out much of the city below, save for the few spires that protruded above the shadow of the nearby mountain range.
Brand’s feet seemed to possess a will of their own. He took a step toward the ledge, then another, and then he was falling. No, not falling -- gliding. Above him stretched enormous wings like black leather on bone. Onyx’s illusory wings? The resemblance was there, but it didn’t quite match. Onyx’s wings had feathers, and these were as of a bat or a drake of some kind.
He wasn’t given much time to wonder about it. His boots touched cobblestone and carried him with haste and purpose through the remainder of the city. The street lamps flickered with a purple flame that gave off very little light, but he seemed to know the path even without it. Two lefts, a right, and through a narrow alley he went. Another temple met him at the end of his journey. The doors opened of their own accord as he neared… where was this place? If this was some sort of godly vision meant to make him into a follower, it sure as frak wasn’t what he’d expected...
Khitti peered around Seika, looking towards where Brand had sat. He was… asleep? That didn’t take long. He must’ve been having another unlucky bout of insomnia again last night. When Khitti looked back to Seika, a hand was outstretched towards the pregnant redhead, and a warm smile given to her as well. [Come on, you. It’s alright.] Seika gave Brand an odd look, as if something were happening that she was quite unsure of, but she soon returned her attention to Khitti, [I know you’re worried, but you’re doing fine. Cyris can be difficult sometimes, but you also follow Arkhen too, right? -He- knows you’re doing what you can. You’ve had a lot of bad things happen to you for a long time, and you’ve also done a few not all that great things yourself, but just because they don’t appear in front of you, doesn’t mean they don’t see the good you’re trying to do now. It doesn’t help when your fiance over there is rather unpleasant when the gods are brought up, but -they- know why he is the way he is, and take that into consideration.]
Finally taking the offered hand, Seika pulled Khitti to her feet as she spoke, and Khitti took a seat at the pews near the altar. “If they can see everything, and are always watching, then why did they let what happened to Brand and I happen? Not even just the necromancers or the people he was forced to work for. Why do they let people just abandon their children? He could be so different right now, if they’d just interfered.”
[That’s -why- they can’t interfere. Things like that happen so often that they’d have to have their hands in these messes all the time. That’s why they leave it up to people like you to take care of.] Seika took Khitti’s hands in her own, and glanced back at Brand again, [Besides, the two of you might not even be together if things hadn’t happened the way that they did. He might never have come to Lithrydel at all.] The longer Seika stared at Brand, the more she felt uneasy. [Something… is wrong now, though, but I’m not quite sure what it is.]
Brand should have felt fear. He knew what he was seeing wasn’t real, but it was certainly no lucid dream, either. If it were, he’d have some control over what happened, or he’d be able to wake up. He could do neither. And yet, the knowledge gave him no emotion, nothing to override the fog that had settled in around his mind. In his vision, he continued marching toward the altar…
Back in the real world, the temple windows darkened. The sun seemed entirely blotted out. A spirit paraded through the entryway, its form almost corporeal, and headed straight for Khitti.
Something was wrong? Khitti followed Seika’s line of sight towards Brand. “Brand? Brand. Wake up.” She started to get up, started to head over to the Catalian to wake him, but then everything went dark. “Brand!” Khitti turned away from the spirit, stumbled, and nearly fell face first onto the ground. Damn kid--as if she wasn’t clumsy enough before it made her so top heavy. “Braaaaand. I’m glad you’re finally sleeping now but if you could wake the frak up, that would be amazing.” Seika did nothing, except stand there near the altar, eyeing the spirit curiously. [The sword, Khitti. Will it to you.]
Khitti gave Seika a very ‘what the frak are you talking about’ look, but the sprite only nodded. The spirit was closing in, and there was much time for Khitti to just get up and run--I mean, she -can’t- run anyway--so she put all of her focus onto sword. Much like she had with her shadowfire, when Brand first showed her how to summon it, she thought happy things. She thought about the first time she re-met him, thought about their dates. She focused on the good times, and the bad, before her death. Any time he was there for her, and all the times in the future he would be. Well, hopefully. None of those good things would happen if this sword didn’t get into her frakking hand right the frak now.
The weapon itself started to shake on Cyris’ altar, first rocking back and forth, and then slowly pulled in Khitti’s direction. It would finally fly through the air, just as the blade had done with Seika’s aid the day it chose Khitti, and come crashing to the ground next to the redhead. Grabbing the katana, she turned back to face the spirit, bracing for whatever it might do when it got to her.
As Brand approached, the altar grew brighter and brighter with light. So captivating was it that he didn’t even notice Khitti, not until the beam of light shot away from the altar and into her hands. His vision-self plodded closer. What was he going to do? He couldn’t touch the light. Somehow, he knew. No, something else was drawing him towards her.
Her bag. He needed to get at something inside her bag. He needed to take it, tear it, rend it to pieces. And if he had to hurt Khitti to manage that… he felt nothing but the command impressed upon him. Destroy the necklace, even at the cost of his life. Even at the cost of hers. It didn’t matter, as long as the child within survived.
Khitti’s line of sight shifted between Brand and the spirit. He wouldn’t wake up… it had to be because of this damned ghost, right? What would happen if he died right now? Would that dream he’d saved her from come true? Would she still become a lich? And what would happen to their child?
It wasn’t something Khitti wanted to think about. It wasn’t something she was going to let happen. The spirit seemed focused now on something behind her, and Khitti took this opportunity to push herself up from the ground and fall into the fighting stance that Seika had taught her. [Just do as I’ve told you and everything will be alright.] The sprite had long since disappeared from behind her, returning to its place within the sword. The blade glowed that familiar gold and shifted to red once more. “You’re not going to take him from me. You’re not going to destroy what we’ve worked so hard for.” Closing the gap between her and the spirit, she swung the sword diagonally in front of her, unleashing a flare of holy fire with it.
Her form was off thanks to her unsteady balance and her hands not quite in the right places on the hilt--Seika noted all of these things for later to bring up in their training--but the added holy fire would do just the trick to get rid of that damned spirit.
The spirit fell, and Brand’s consciousness doubled. Tripled. Quadrupled. He was aware of four spirits at once now, coming at her from the entryway, the transepts, and descending upon her from the belfry. The necklace. The necklace! Some part of his mind had returned, and Brand was screaming the words out now, but he had no way of knowing if Khitti would actually hear him or not. He seemed to have no control of his own body, though he could see it slumped over through the sight of the fourth spirit. All his senses were those of the creatures that challenged Khitti. Everything was dim and distorted except for the sword, which shone so brightly he could scarcely stand to look at it.
Doubt and worry started to creep into Khitti’s mind again as more spirits showed up and Brand didn’t awaken. Maybe she couldn’t do this? Maybe this -was- where things were supposed to end? [Just think about Brand. Think about how happy the two of you will be when this child comes. And when you two are married. Think of all of the things your future will have in store for you once your free of this curse.] The sword’s aura had started to falter, but once Seika spoke up, it regained its red hue.
Right, yes. She could do this thing. The spirits closed in on her as she backed towards the altar, near that bag of hers. What the hell could they want right now? What’s changed so suddenly? Almost as if Brand’s screaming actually got through somehow, it clicked in her head: the necklace. More flares of holy fire were sent towards the spirits, in an attempt to hold them off while she grabbed her bag and dug out the box with the necklace in it. She didn’t dare put it on until it was time, but instead, shoved the box into one of the pockets of her maternity dress. Once the spirits were close enough, the katana was made to slice through the air repeatedly, leaving streaks of holy fire in its wake, ridding the chapel of these four new ghosts.
Four, three, two, one. The spirits were vanquished. And yet Brand’s consciousness split again, this time into more pieces than he could count. Khitti-copies were coming from every nook and cranny of the temple. Through them, he could see the real Khitti from every angle at once. But the closer he got, the slower he seemed to move. A chime rang out in the stillness, a single tone that grew louder and louder until everything seemed frozen in time.
[Do you want to save her? Do you want to save yourself?] Onyx’s voice. He could hear the undead clearly, and his focus flit from one view to the next in a frantic search. But there was no sight of them, not even through a hundred different eyes. Onyx was not here. [Facilier’s army converges on your location. Your child could survive outside the womb now, and so he’ll throw everything he has at you that he’s not already promised to Kahran. There was no way to prevent it, though at least in the temple you stand a chance.]
Brand was screaming, struggling, doing his utmost to pull himself back into his body. It was of no use. [Listen to me. Facilier’s power stems from faith in Vakmathras. I know the weight of what I’m asking, but you don’t survive this without a little faith of your own. Give yourself to Cyris. Let him use you both to destroy this army.]
“Why should I trust you? Why should I trust Cyris?” The copy-Khats were beginning to move again, as did Khitti. Brand drew a breath into his lungs, and realized his consciousness was his own. He wasn’t one with Facilier’s army anymore. He rose and thrust the pendant back into his pocket, watching as a sea of redheads gathered towards Khitti.
[Because we both want her to live as much as you do.] And somehow, he knew that it was true.
Things suddenly went from challenging to deadly real fast--even Seika knew this wasn't good. [Ooooo-kay. Enough practice time. We can do that at home. Since Brand is a little preoccupied, I think you're going to need some help. Quick! Hold the sword vertically in front of you and say ‘Cyris Guardian Armor Make Up!’]
“What…?” Khitti’s sword met the closest of her copies, rending them limbless, headless, or heartless--whatever was easiest to get to first.
[Just do it!]
“Okay! Fine.” The redhead took in a deep breath and brought the sword to hover in front of her, “Cyris Guardian Armor, Make Up!” The room was bathed in blinding light of golds, oranges, and reds, forcefully pushing back the copy-Khats that sought to destroy her.
When the light faded, Khitti was equipped in Seika’s rose gold half-plate and leather, though it looked a little odd thanks to that giant stomach of hers. [It will always alter itself to fit you, whether you're pregnant or not. Oh! Oh! Try the circlet! Take it off and throw it!”
Khitti did as instructed and sent it flying. Holy magic sparked and lit the headpiece aflame when it left her hand, plowing through neck and skull of any copy-Khat in its way, incinerating them entirely.
Brand hurled the elements as quickly as he could conjure them. Over time he was able to cut a path to the real Khitti, but the copies kept coming and coming. They must have killed hundreds of them by now. And as if that wasn’t bad enough, more spirits were entering the temple. Brand threw up his bubble shield to hold the forces at bay; he badly needed a breather.
“Two of us against this whole mess? That’s hardly fair.” He was doubled over with his hands bracing against his knees, peering sideways at Khitti. “Nice getup. Cyris gave you that? Never thought I’d see a woman that pregnant lookin’ good in armor.” Despite their circumstances, he was smirking. “Or wearin’ armor at all, actually.” Copy-Khats hammered against the icy dome, howling in some guttural language. The spirits lingered overhead, seemingly content to wait it out. Brand caught his breath and righted himself, turning away from her to survey the grim scenery. “Listen quick, cuz I can only hold this thing up against all that for so long, and it doesn't look good out there. I felt Onyx speak to me a bit ago… hard to explain. They said Facilier's throwin’ everything he has at us now, cuz the kid's far enough along to survive without us. They said without both of us givin’ ourselves to Cyris, it won't be enough to beat an army backed by devotion to Vakmathras. And I guess you already have, what with the sword and all. But how do I…?” Brand gazed up nervously at the Cyris statue.
“When has Facilier ever played fair?” Khitti smirked back as Brand ogled her armor. “Maybe when we get out of here, I'll wear it at home for you.” There was an innocent batting of eyelashes for her soon-to-be husband. He went on to explain their situation, and eyed that statue, and Khitti could only snark at him, “Well first thing's first, you can stop looking at his statue like that. He's not just going to appear out of nowhere and smite you. You likely would've been dead awhile ago if that were the case.” Khitti cast a sidelong glance at the chaos outside of the bubble and took Brand's hands in hers quickly. “Look, we're going to get out of this together. We always do. We’ve even beaten death, for frak’s sake. You just have to believe that we will. And--” She paused, giving a nod to Seika, who appeared behind him, “--it wasn’t Cyris that gave it to me. Sort of, but… things don’t work like that. At least, I don’t think so. I’m still trying to learn this too.” Khitti sighed heavily, still unsure of things, “Seika, can you help us? Again?”
Despite Brand’s waning energy, Seika stepped around the Catalian to stand beside the both of them, orange eyes practically staring into Brand’s soul. [What is it with you Catalians and not being able to show any ounce of faith in anything whatsoever?] The sprite’s voice held no mocking or angry tone; they was purely asking out of curiosity. [Khitti has told me some things, but…] Seika stared a bit longer, seemingly skeptical of the good things Khitti had told her. [None of that matters. You’re trying, at least, and that’s all that matters. The desire for freedom from this mess, and anything else that might plague the both of you in the future, burns as brightly in you as it does in her. And, I suspect that sort of thing always has, despite your crunchy outer shell.] She leaned over towards Khitti and whispered in her ear, leaving Khitti to grin mischievously.
Khitti’s grin never went away, the entire time she closed the gap between her and Brand. Seika disappeared, and Brand’s pregnant woman was already pulling at his shirt collar to bring him down to her, “Now, it’s only temporary, but…” With that warning said, she kissed him! The kiss itself would breathe new life into him, giving him a second wind (because let’s face it, Brand’s getting old). In addition to that, the vambraces that had been on Khitti’s own wrists disappeared, reappearing on Brand’s arms, but now as gauntlets. “I think you’re quite aware on how to punch things properly. Your woman and child need protecting.” Much like with Khitti’s circlet, the gauntlets would catch fire when Brand was ready to throw his punches.
Brand could feel holy flame engulf his wrists. Pure white light seared through the enemy like a hot knife through butter. They tried to come in from the side or behind, and yet Brand could sense and counter them before their blows connected. Even when his skills were at his peak, he had never been this good. It wasn’t -possible- to be this good, not without help.
Between his fists and Khitti’s sword, the many undead copy-Khats fell. The spirits disintegrated. And for all that, Brand had not even a scratch on him. Cyris may as well have given him full armor. “That was frakkin’ -fantastic-.” Brand stared at the gauntlets in awe. “You’re gonna let me keep these, right?”
“Nope.” The gauntlets disappeared suddenly, leaving Brand to stare at his hands instead. “Like I said, ‘temporary’. Plus, you don’t believe in these hokey religions and ancient weapons anyway, do you?” Khitti was teasing, of course. “It was very nice of Seika to let you borrow them, though. Thank you, Seika.” The sword’s glow brightened somewhat, as if to say ‘you’re welcome’. The sprite was rather tired at this point, after splitting its magic between Brand and Khitti, and attempted to conserve the rest of its energy, just in case Facilier had something else up his sleeve. Khitti would even say as much about Seika, and herself, “I think Seika’s a bit tired now, so you won’t get any snark from her--and she’s not the only one.”
Now that the fight was done, the strain of the exercise it took to take down her own mirrors weighed on the redhead. With a heavy sigh, she sunk down into the nearest pew to rest. Khitti seemed more at ease now--at least until a sharp wave of pain was sent through her middle. She let out a cry, and put a hand to her stomach, letting out a slew of curses.
Brand felt his exhaustion come back to him, now that the danger appeared to have passed. He settled at Khitti’s side, leaning on her shoulder. “What is it? You weren’t hurt, were you?” It was a wonder that they weren’t dead, with only the two of them against those overwhelming forces. Well… the three of them, he supposed. He didn’t have to like it, but credit where credit was due--Cyris had indeed gotten them out of this. There was no other way to interpret what had happened, not to his mind.
Khitti shook her head, leaning against him. “No. I think it was a contraction. Not -those- contractions, but...” Another quick wave of pain washed over her and then subsided, “Frak, they hurt like hell.” They’d only get worse unfortunately until it was time for that kid to come out. Khitti pulled the necklace Onyx had given them out of the pocket of her dress, staring at it as it sat in the palm of her hand. “They really -are- watching us, aren’t they?” This realization prompted a frown to appear as she ran her index finger along the lapis lazuli embedded in the pendant, right where the crack in the stone should’ve been.
Brand looked up at the Cyris statue again, managing perhaps a bit less distrust in his gaze than before. He didn’t have to -like- the gods, but maybe this one wasn’t all bad. “I guess so.” The necklace jogged his memory. He found its broken twin and held it out to show her. “Somethin’ else you should know about…” He still wasn’t sure what it meant, except that something strange was afoot.
Khitti snatched the necklace out of Brand’s hand, confusion written all over her face. “What.” She was doing that thing Gevurah typically did, where it was -technically- supposed to be a question, but really came out as more of an odd demand. “What the hell. It wasn’t fixed then, it’s a different one.” Khitti studied it carefully, but didn’t seem to find anything different besides the stones. But even -they- were identical, except for that crack. “I know you probably want to strangle Onyx, but I wish we could talk to them without Facilier knowing. This is weird. I mean, I know we’ve seen -a lot- of weird, but this is starting to rank above that I think.” She passed the broken necklace back to Brand, “You keep that with you. Best to keep them separate so I don’t end up wearing the wrong one when it’s time for this kid to show up. I’d rather not be having another vision when I’m in labor, you know?”
“Heh. That would be bad. A distraction from the pain, though, I guess?” Brand ran his thumb along the crack of the broken necklace, then stuck it back in his pocket before it could cause any further trouble. “I’m worried, Khitti. Even if you do have a god on your side. When Facilier comes… I hope whatever Onyx has planned will be enough.”
The fact that Brand voiced his worry for once was cause for concern and prompted a frown from Khitti. She was trying so hard to be optimistic, but ultimately she knew in her gut that if Onyx didn't pull through for them, Facilier would very likely get what he wanted. She had to believe that things would be alright though and made this known, “Things will be alright. -We’ll- be alright.” A smile pushed past her own worry and greeted Brand as she snaked her arm around his and pulled him close. “The only thing you need to worry about is how many diapers I'm going to make you change once this kid is here.”