RP:Contemplations and Coins
Frostmaw Mountains
Hildegarde had willingly chose to scale a ferociously high mountain in order to reach Emielle when flying might have been easier. Why she chose to climb was anyone’s guess. Was it because the climb was hard and punishing? Was she using the physical strain of the climb as a form of punishment and repentance for what she saw as her bad deeds? It didn’t matter, for here she was: caked in snow, ice and so lashed by the wind it was impossible to tell if her hair once held any particular style of positioning. “Emielle!” she cried, waiting for the couatl to appear or make herself known. The knight had hoped the couatl wouldn’t be too far away, chasing some snow-drift or dancing amongst the clouds because something had sparked her interest.
As Hildegarde had guessed, Emielle was indeed dancing among the clouds, having found a snowflake that insisted on drifting rather than falling. Such an oddity is like a magnet for the couatl, resulting in her following the defiant flake's trek for the majority of the afternoon. As such, when Hildegarde calls out, Emielle hears it but does not immediately respond, for the snowflake's path holds her mind enraptured as it flutters higher then abruptly begins a spiraling descent. White feathered wings adjust to follow every movement, carrying couatl and snowflake ever downward in a winding dance until, with a soft, << Oh >> Emielle halts mid-glide. For the snowflake has chosen to land upon Hildegarde's head, of all places, thus bringing the couatl to the Silver as if their meeting were ordained by higher powers. Such is the way Emielle sees the world, a complex of threads, chaotic at first glance but an exquisite tapestry when one takes a step back to view it. << Dear Knight, >> affection is clear in Emielle's greeting, << You came, by your own two feet. Tell me something, if you please, as you walked along the mountain, did you feel strength in being able to ascend to these heights? Have you ever wondered what the mountain feels about it? For your feet leave marks upon its face. Is it damaged now? Or is it pleased, to have the company and contact of yourself? The snows may bury your path, but won't your passage still exist, in yours and the mountain's memory? >>
As Emielle continued to dance amongst the clouds, the knight trudged through deep snow to find a spot that was somewhat shallow; a spot where she could sit and pull her coat around herself a little bit. As she grew and matured, as her natural strengths grew into themselves, she found herself much more capable of going up against the cold. These days, the ferocious bite of Frostmaw hardly bothered her. So here she sat, waiting for the couatl to spiral down at her own pace, knowing full well that Emielle would never rush on anyone’s account but her own. Even so, at Emielle’s ‘greeting’, the knight can guess that the couatl has arrived early, drawn by something other than herself. “Lady Emielle,” she said in reply, affection mingled with respect and a natural protectiveness. “It is not the feet that count so much, but your hands. Your fingers groping for spaces to grasp, fingers clutching crevices that you pray are made of stone and not of ice. As for what the mountain may think or feel… I will never know.”
The couatl laughs, not with an audible sound, but with a ripple of her shimmering coils and a spark in her eyes, radiating amusement. << There is no such thing as 'never'. All is possible, even if most believe this to be otherwise. The mountain can think and feel, and you may one day hear it, if you listen closely. Did not another already know its voice? The one whose heart echoed with the EarthSong? You know him, although I only know of him through stories. >> Clearly Emielle means Kirien, although the way her mind forms 'stories' makes it unclear if she's been told things by Satoshi or Svilfon, or if the couatl has found the tales among nature, having a keen ear and a patient enough mind for such matters. A wistful sigh follows, although again, it is not a sound, but rather a feeling and a tremor that courses through the winged serpent's length. << I would have liked to meet him. I am sure I will have the chance one day. >>
Emielle needn't mention EarthSong for Hildegarde to know exactly who she meant. At the mere mention of her lost liege, the knight becomes somewhat rigid: she had lost him during the fight with the poachers, something she felt had been her fault for such a long time, something she had tried to bury - like her liege - and leave alone, but it always came to haunt her. It always found a way of coming back, even now, as she wore his coat. He was one of many ghosts, but it was unclear whether he clung to her or she clung to him. "I knew him," she said quietly, as if lost in a sea of memories, unable to snap out of the little reverie they had pulled her into. With a shake of her head, she looked to Emielle and merely said: "I am sure he would have liked to have met you, Lady Emielle. He was a kind man."
<< Hmm. No. Not always. Your mind resonates with memories of his kindness. Other minds have shown his cruelty. His passion, his curiosity, and his capriciousness. I feel it does a soul injustice, to recall only one facet of their nature. Why are the lost and dead only spoken of with words of fondness? >> Emielle's tone radiates with confusion at this, her mind wandering from the subject to another she's pondered before. << If they are gone forever, should we not remember all parts of them, not only what we deem 'good'? How do we choose what is good? A wolf think it is good to eat a baby rabbit. A rabbit does not think this is good. >> The couatl's coils draw in and unfurl in a rippling fashion, as if her thoughts are coursing through her entire form. While her words are directed at Hildegarde overall, there's the sense she is speaking to the air, stones, and snow as well, holding all in equal regard when it comes to seeking an answer. But her next mind-words are certainly for the Silver knight, for Emielle's feathered head turns toward her then, << When you stop poachers or exiles, you consider this a good deed, yes? You are protecting the people and lands of Frostmaw. Does the poacher or exile see this too? Or do they see a fearsome foe mercilessly hunting them done as they strive to survive. Is good only a matter of which side you reside on? Then why must we have sides? Hmmm. >> Emielle trails off here, her thoughts obscured as she dwells on the matter of right and wrong. It is clear, despite her history, that the young couatl harbors no hatred toward poachers. She sees them, like all else, as a curiosity she wishes to learn further on. This manner of thinking is likely unhelpful to Hildegarde's current state of mind, however.
Hildegarde had long since removed the amulet around her neck, keeping it tied about her belt so it wouldn't get lost, but not wishing to be under its influence for this conversation. After Satoshi related to it as a crutch, she has since been at odds with the amulet: she enjoys the peace of mind it brings, but she does not wish to squirm out of her punishment. However, Emielle's words are not helping her situation very much. Talking of Kirien poorly was fair enough, everyone was entitled to their own opinion after all: "I did not see his cruel side often and when I saw it, he was under the influence of an external force. He took me in, he gave me a place in Frostmaw. If it were not for him, I presumably would not here talking to you today, nor would I have raised Kenway. I owe Kirien much," she explained, voice having started out confident and strong before tapering off into a soft murmur. With a grunt, the knight shook her head: "I have never claimed that killing someone is a good thing. Frankly, I despise ending a life. No one should ever kill without a second thought; no one should think there is no other way to stop someone than killing them. There is always a choice. Sometimes the hardest choice is made and we are left to live with the consequences, if we can live with them. But I have taken many lives, Emielle." After a sigh and shake of the head, the knight lowered herself onto a cold portion of stone, sitting upon this lonely mountain to talk to a chaser of snow-drifts. "I..." she frowned, as if considering how best to word her thoughts, "I once thought that the world was black and white. That there was good and there was evil, that everyone had good in them, that people did good things and people did bad things because they were made to or because their circumstances let them believe it was the right thing to do. I was a naive and foolish girl. This world is cruel," she near spat the word. "I... I am swimming in this ocean of cruelty and I am drowning in it. Everyone dips their hands in this sea, yelling, 'swim, Hildegarde, swim!' and yet... all I hear is them telling me to swim because they cannot spare the strength to help me bring my head above the water."
For an uncomfortably long time, Emielle is silent, eyes fixed on Hildegarde. With a serpentine face, expressions are unreadable from her, furthered by the fact that no clearcut emotions shroud Emielle to give hint to her inner thoughts. Eventually, however, the couatl responds, and her tone carries neither skepticism nor rebuke. << Is that not selfish? Perhaps they learned to swim by drowning, with no souls encouraging them at all. My siblings and I... we each learned to fly differently. Kenway had you to teach him, a saurian cousin with wings of her own. Alahir had a wizard happy to be flung off cliffs. Mamoru is learning still, for his heart's companion fears the skies. Pinquettki studied alongside her seamstress. Myself, I am bound to a creature that both loves the skies and harbors a venomous jealousy for them. She attempted to teach me, but lacked the physical means. Every lesson, I could feel that envy burning in her mind, despite her attempts to bury it from my perception. I chose to teach myself then by watching other creatures. I fell, I crashed, I flailed, and I fumbled. But I learned. I learned that I can soar, if I let the wind carry me as it chose, rather than try to carve a path through it. Rather than assume the wind was my enemy, determined to break me against the mountain-face. And you can learn to swim, if you did not hate the currents so. The ocean is not cruel, it only seems such because you have not explored its depths, have not let it carry you along without resistance. You say it is an ocean of cruelty. Kindness and cruelty are two halves of the same coin. One coin. The same coin. And yet, when you look at one side of it, you see a single face and forget the other. Drift, Silverkin. >> Emielle's wings open as she says this, allowing the breeze to ruffle feathers. <<You are of the skies too, it should come naturally. When we fly, it is not just our mind that soars, it is every part of our body working in unison, coupled with the airs, the sun's warmth, and the world's presence. We fly, because we are a part of it all. You cannot swim, if you separate yourself from everything, single yourself out, blame yourself, and fault yourself. That is selfish. All happenings belong to all existence. All is one, one all. >>
"Selfish?" the knight repeats quietly, as if considering the meaning and the depth the word had. Yes, she had been selfish, now that she had come to think of it. All she did was seek emotional validation from her friends and companions, she saw them as family and close friends when they perhaps saw her as less: this was selfish of her. She was putting them on a pedestal to serve and suit her own needs; putting them in an awkward position to make herself feel a little better, a little less lonely in the world. Yes, the knight was selfish. It'd be a lie if the dragon said she didn't want the world to be the way she wanted it to be, was she selfish for trying to shape it a little through her deeds and actions? "Yes," she said quietly, "I suppose I am very selfish." Had she not constantly tried to make Satoshi see the war from her point of view, the emotional and mental fallout it had? Had she not practically attempted to push the same onto Satoshi so she might not be alone, so she might understood in this matter? Dragons are selfish and greedy creatures, Hildegarde is no exception. The beautiful thing about a malady of the mind is that it can warp and contort every perceptive sense and tool a person has, it can make the kindest become the cruellest and it can do the opposite. Perhaps the knight could do the ultimate sacrifice, to rid the world of her selfish ways and of herself, yes, she's thinking of that solution as she stands once more atop the mountain; peering down at the world below. All it would take... all it would take would be one jump or just a few haphazard steps. That's all.
The words that echo between Hildegarde and Emielle then are the Silver's prior statements repeated. << "Frankly, I despise ending a life. No one should ever kill without a second thought; no one should think there is no other way to stop someone than killing them. There is always a choice." >> No alarm comes from Emielle, no sense of pleading or persuasion. She will not interfere with Hildegarde's choice, but she will point out the disjointed beliefs the knight carries. Emielle does not strive to upset the knight, nor to make her hate herself. Her intentions are purely to help, and to one like Emielle, coaxing someone to view the world at large rather than by what's directly around them, is best. <<Every life is selfish. We fight to live and manage to live, because we want to live. And yet, it becomes a disease when we try to define every misfortune as a direct result of our own faults. When fortune shines upon you, you thank the gods and good luck. When the opposite arises, you blame yourself, as if you and you alone held the power to determine how events would unfold. That is selfish. >> With casual slowness, the couatl slithers forward and rests her head in the snows beside Hildegarde. Her gaze is fixed on the horizon as a whole, rather than honing in on a single point in the distance. << You did not engineer the war, you cannot think so highly of yourself to carry the blame solely. You do what you must to keep swimming, to keep flying, to keep living. None can blame you for that. Nor can you blame them, when they do what they must. >>
"This is far from my second time thinking of this, Emielle," she confessed quietly and truthfully, for there had been many times when the knight had considered ending herself so she needn't bear the thoughts that sought to crush her will every day. The Silver spread her fingers, feeling the breeze brush past each inch of skin that was not covered, feeling the touch of snow before it began to gently melt away from the warmth of her skin. "I do not think highly of myself. I know... I stupidly know it's not all my fault, yet I can't stop feeling as though I could have prevented things from happening. Satoshi tells me to armour myself in the memory of those I have lost and I try, yet I don't know how to do it right. I try so hard to shield myself in them but then I only feel guilt and it's eating at me so much, Emielle." The knight gazed down the mountain, unable to see what lurked below due to the swirling snow, "This is a poison in me. A sickness. I need to draw the sickness of doubt and hate from my mind, I need to be clear-headed without the sole work of a talisman. I have to heal, but it just seems so hard."
Another silent, couatl laugh comes from Emielle, one born of mirth. << You are not as different from her as you think. She does the same as you, when we speak. The words I offer are used to explain and defend herself, they become tools for person purpose, rather than as the reflections on existence they're meant to be. The difference between yourself and Satoshi is that, where she turns my words into weapons to arm herself against the world, you turn them into weapons to be used upon yourself. I am not asking you to explain yourself. To find answers within yourself. You were not invited here to blame, explain, or doubt. You were invited here to see the world from another angle. >> And the way Emielle says this makes it abundantly clear she does not simply mean the view from the mountaintops. << Armor is rigid, armor does not have room to bend under pressure. It can only break and shatter. Armoring yourself with their memories is not working? Seek another tactic. When you fly, and find yourself in a powerful headwind that will not relent despite all the strength of your wings... do you keep trying to fly straight into it? No. That is foolish and will only destroy you. You shift your wings, your turn your body, you try from another angle until you find the method that works. Fighting your feelings, your memories, your doubts are preventing you from flying onward. However, those feelings and memories are not your foe, anymore than the wind's currents are. Accept them, move with them, let them surround and carry you. You may not reach your end goal in the time you intended, but eventually you will reach it, if you cease combating the winds. Do you have the power of the gods to change what has and will be? Do you have their power to determine who deserves life and death? You do not. >> Before a reply can come, however, Emielle brings the crested tip of her tail between herself and Hildegarde in a gesture similar to a finger held up to forestall words. << When you respond, I offer you this challenge: Respond without speaking of yourself. No "I", no "Me". You are a -piece- of the world. A vital piece, just as every thread is vital to the tapestry, but no single thread should speak out over the others about solely themselves. I have spoken of the world to you, you have spoken only of yourself. Let us change tact, see where our wings take us then. >>
The Silver remains silent until asked to respond, obviously listening intently to what Emielle has to say. It's difficult, though, to stand still and hear it all being said. Emielle has a funny way of making one see the world: it's gentle and firm all at once. Perhaps this is what the knight needs to hear. "No one has the power to change the course that has been, but how do we know for certain that every action taken does not alter the course of what could be?" she offered Emielle a little smile there, "Of course, it is difficult to define what was meant to be in comparison to what has happened," the knight said, before letting her smile falter. That statement was a little too deep. In her mind, that stirred questions. What if Sabjorn was meant to die so she might live and lend her strength to Frostmaw? What if her brother was meant to be a poacher to show her that there is good and bad in every individual? Deep questions with no real answer. "If people do not have the power to determine who deserves to live or die, then why do people kill in this world?" she asked with a genuine interest. "We cannot say that none should have the power to determine who lives and who dies, for then our world might be in anarchy. Or it might be a utopia. Is it a risk people are willing to take?" the knight shrugged her shoulder.
A shudder runs through the couatl's sinuous form, a shrugging gesture she's adopted from Satoshi but made awkward by her limbless build. << These are the questions I ponder each waking moment. Perhaps we will know the answers one day, perhaps we never will. But is it not worth trying? Is not -everything- worth trying? We're granted the chance to live, be it by chance, divine ordinance, or elsewhat. I choose to follow the wind where it wills. As such, I have found a world that is rich and deep, secrets buried and treasures exposed. I do not think I am a creature of good, nor a creature of ill-intent. Blood has been split by my fangs and coils, making me a monster in the eyes of the cattle and sheep I prey upon. I have guided lost travelers from the frozen woods, making me a divinesent gift in their eyes. But be it monster or savior, I am still Emielle. Two halves of the same coin, kindness and cruelty. Do not shroud your acts with what you deem is right or wrong. Do, be, live. -That- makes you Hildegarde the Silver, the sum of all your parts, all your actions, all your future and past. Do you see now? You haunt and hate yourself, when you should celebrate that you are a part of the tapestry that binds us all in its landscape. >>
"True enough," the knight responded with a small nod of the head, "and I cannot contest with your words, Emielle. I can only say, and hope you will accept my words, that I wish to hold onto my honour. I may wear my armour and be of thick skin, but it is known I hold my heart out for others and abide by a code of honour." The Silver smiled, "I think I might be a bit too afraid to look at my code of honour from another angle, Emielle. You might shake me too much in doing that," whether that was the truth or a little jest was unclear. "I thank you for our talk, Emielle. I will contemplate."
Emielle voices a soft, rumbling 'hrmmm' sound in response. The noise is caught somewhere between one of agreement and one of musing. << Contemplation is good. >> It's all the couatl offers, alongside the gentle brushing of her tailfeathers atop Hildegarde's head in a gesture of affection. Whether the knight chooses to depart or continue talking is her choice. For Emielle, she is content to remain where she is, gaze on the horizon and the countless possibilities that reside within it.
Hildegarde does, indeed, have much to contemplate. She has the words of Satoshi, Leone and now Emielle to consider what she will do. All these angles and points of view certainly don't make things much easier, but it's a start. With a smile and courteous nod of the head, along with a fond, "Farewell, m'lady," the knight does take the leap off the mountain. Within moments, the rapidly fading silhouette of a dragon can be seen.