RP:Silence is All You Know
Part of the The Most Dangerous Game Arc
The Throne of the Impossible Wyrm
(Continued from As Threads That Bind Us)
Svilfon stands motionless for a long time as the arrow flies straight and true, guided by malevolence and anger, compassion and caring; filled as it is with parts of these three, given freely to end this evil, to avenge the fallen... The wizard watches as the wyrm's final laugh is cut so horrifically short; paused forever in death as Elanor is, though her smile is one born of a final, tragic victory.
Breath is drawn in, and the vampire seems almost reluctant to shatter the silence in the den. But he knows what he must do, she showed him this much. So without speaking to the snow queen or the knight, he moves forward. Briefly his hand touches the cheek of Elanor as she sits there like the puppet she was, strings no longer held by any living hand, before he moves forward to stand before the mighty wyrm. He knew well the price this beast could get; the irony of skinning the empathic wyrm and selling it would appeal to the wizard's darker nature, even though he cares nothing for wealth. But that darkness was sucked out of him, given away to slay this would-be-God and the forsaken child. Despite it all, he would give him a sort of honour in death... and do as he said he would: Remove the stain of the poachers from the land... even if they too were mere puppets to this malevolent ancient beast.
When he speaks, Svilfon's voice is quiet, strained and drained by what happened this day. “It is almost done... almost done...” He shakes his head for a moment and stares at the colossal head of the beast, before turning back to face Satoshi and Hildegarde. “Vengeance and an End... but not quite. This place must be destroyed... these two bodies must be destroyed... this den... this place... the suffering will remain on the land until it is no more. I cannot allow this.” He offers the merest ghost of a smile. “So when you are ready, lady icicle, noble knight,” even those honorifics seem inadequate after what they have been through, but the wizard knows they will do, “When you are ready, leave me here... I will destroy it.” He offers them both a tip of his hat. “The price such rewards would give are not worth paying...” he motions to the corpse behind him, and the deceased seer. “This I know.”
The wizard wishes also to destroy whatever remains of the lingering emotions which were forged by these three into the weapon which damned the wyrm... he knows better than most the strength such things can have... the remnants of which can turn holy men evil, noble men cruel. He loves Frostmaw, as much as he loves anything in this cursed world... he has no desire to leave a seed of corruption out here... there was too much already to cost a man his sanity in this world... Svilfon has no wish to be part of creating another.
"Elenor!" the knight cried out, as the arrow pierced through the girl and then the wyrm. She had not wished for the girl to die, heavens above, she wished to save her; to take her to a much better life than this. Her mind screamed at her, screamed of failure in her sacred duty to protect the land, the innocent, to give the misguided a second chance, to do everything in her power to be good and true. She rushed to the side of the girl, kneeling before her and pulling her into her embrace, whispering quietly: “no, no, no, this is not how things should be, you must live, girl, you must live.” She so desperately wished to save the girl, to do everything within her might and rescue her. This is, after all, the purpose of her oath; her choice as a knight is to save the innocent, protect the meek and do what is right. “When you are alone, silence is all you know, but you needn’t be alone now,” she said quietly, in some desperate and vain hope to rouse the girl; to undo the wounds that were mortal. Hilde eased her body down and unbuckled her chestplate, fingers digging recklessly into her wound that was held together by the icy and snowy magicks of her Queen, scooping out that ever so potent saurian blood and pressed it to Elenor’s wound. “Please,” she begged to no-one in particular, “I… I cannot bear to lose more,” she told the unmoving girl. “I cannot bear to lose another,” she repeated, before trying another helping of her own potent healing blood.
“One may tolerate a world of demons for the sake of an angel,” she announced, glancing up to Satoshi and Svilfon, as if they might help her case. But perhaps, it would be better to tell the dragon to end her seemingly useless attempts at reviving the girl. Not all can be saved after all. “The wyrm… The wyrm is dead,” she whispered, “You could live so freely.” It all seemed to be in vain, but the Silver was so bereft, she could not or would not abandon her efforts.
Satoshi lowers the bow with arms made stiff from the tension. That smirk, full of fangs and mockery, is still firmly in place as she glowers at the dead wyrm. "Rule number one: Never monologue when you're the baddie," she states simply through a voice thick and hoarse with the agony that's wrung her soul dry. The taunt doesn't continue, however, when she catches Hildegarde cradling Elenor's body. The dear knight, trying in vain to save the dead child. It's enough to make even Satoshi grow misty eyed. Weakly, her smirk fading, the magus whisper to the Silver, "Her heart... it was torn out. She's gone, Hildegarde." Just as Elenor had promised, she had to break Hildegarde's heart one more time to end all this.
Lowering her ears, Satoshi looks away from the bloody scene, and spots Svilfon's movements and following words. Drooped ears promptly twist forward when he says 'leave me here', a protest on her lips--
Before the bow in her hand explodes, showering the immediate area with shards of shadowy crystal and sending a rippling, concussive blast radiating out from the point of origin. In the exploding air's roar Satoshi can swear she hears the scream of Bozrah, the maniacal laughter of Asorial, and Ko'tar's mournful song. All before she's knocked flat by the blast. Vision goes black as the magus' head strikes against the stone floor, and for how long she's unconscious, she can't be sure. Seconds, minutes, hours, it is impossible to tell. Nor does she care, for when thought returns to Satoshi, all she notices is that she can hear. She can hear so much clearer than she has in a long, long time. It isn't hearing in the physical sense, however. It is inward that the clarity exists. The whisperings, they're gone. Deep, deep within, the eidolon can still sense Asorial and Ko'tar as tiny embers, where a clear shard and a blackened shard embedded themselves in her flesh mid-explosion. The shards are dimmed in their slumber however, and otherwise oblivious to her presence. No longer can she hear their voices, their constant whispering attempts to influence her. The only sound is Satoshi's own thoughts.
All Satoshi can do is laugh. The sound is small and broken, almost a sob in nature, yet beneath the bewilderment is a crystalline note of delight. She's free. She's Satoshi. Her actions are her own.
Although battered in more ways than can be described, from soul to skin, Satoshi still manages to climb back to her feet one last time. A single white tail swishes back and forth behind the magus; Asorial's power is gone and so too the additions. Satoshi's stance is firm, unwavering, and her gaze matches as it's leveled on the wizard. "I'll see you at home." Casual the remark might sound, yet beneath it all is a meaning she has no doubt Svilfon will understand: You'd better come home; Don't you dare sacrifice yourself, or I'll drag your sorry ass back from Hell just to kick it around some more.
Svilfon doesn't move as the bow explodes, knocking Satoshi back, even as his robes billow against his slender body as the air whips around him. The shards of ice, filled as they are with that given essence of Bozrah, Asorial and Ko'tar, tear through the air around him, but he knew before they'd all fallen to the ground that none would hit him.
Ignoring for the moment the prone snow queen, the wizard instead speaks to Hildegarde, his gaze demanding her attention despite the fact Satoshi was laying still. “She is gone... and that is the way she wanted it. Mourn not her loss of life, rejoice instead in the freedom she has found in death. For some of us, that is the only freedom there is, and for her... it was her final victory.” He flashes a slight smile, small and sad, before he turns his gaze to Satoshi.
As he looks her over he cannot help but let that small smile twist into a crooked grin, watching as she stands, listening to that laughter which sounds both happy and sad, before he simply tips his hat to her in an altogether ambiguous gesture, before offering the same to the knight. He understands there are great differences within him now, free as he is from the darkness inside, but he cannot yet dwell upon it. His magic, twisting and dancing since the moment it was partially freed by his drained emotions... it still struggles against his internal shackles, seeking but a moment of freedom... and the wizard knew well that moment was soon approaching.
Hildegarde shook her head at Satoshi's words, as if denying them might make them false and would give her the opportunity to save the girl who lay dead in her arms. The blood flowed freely from her wounded chest; dripping from her fingertips and smearing Elenor's face when Hilde brushed her hair back so softly and with such care. It wasn't until Svilfon spoke to her, that she nodded and so softly put the girl back down. "May you find peace with your End," she whispered quietly before she rose to her feet. "I'll..." she sighed, "I'll see you soon, my friend," she said with a nod in his direction, fixing him with a stare that said she'd damn well be seeing him soon. With that, the Silver half-staggered out of the den, left to a fate unknown.
Satoshi watches Hildegarde make her unsteady way out. She resists the urge to follow, something telling her the knight needs space and time for wounds to mend. And there is a broken brother waiting in the snow still. Thus, Satoshi dips her head toward the Silver in a silent expression of gratitude, whether the dragon sees it or not.
Heaving a sigh then, the magus looks back once more to Svilfon for a long moment, before she flashes him a ghost's smile and too turns to find her way from the den. When she reaches the stone doorway, Satoshi pauses long enough to murmur, "See you soon, wizard. He said 'each den', after all. We've work to do."
Svilfon watches the knight leave, after replying to her words with another small smile, before he shifts his gaze once more to fall upon Satoshi. The two, wizard and glacial magus, spend a long moment in silence, before Svilfon gives the queen a slight, almost imperceptible nod of his head. He watches her turn and leave, and replies to her final words in a voice so quiet perhaps she will not even hear it. “Yes, soon.” Before he faces for the last time the mighty wyrm and the forsaken child, both of which damned each other in their own twisted ways.
His magic struggles within him to be free, but Svilfon doesn't let it just yet. He thinks back over the paths which lead them to this place: The loss of Emiur mixed with the joy found in his childrens' lives. Their meeting, the first hunt... easy fodder as the weakest poachers sought to destroy an enemy they never could understand. The next, stronger... still torn apart with an almost arrogant ease by those who came to hunt the hunters... then the last group of powerful poachers... where sacrifice and suffering were the gifts of victory. Hildegarde, mighty as ever, defeating her brother yet showing mercy at the end. Satoshi, her plans and her power, destroying those who came to harm her kingdom, laying broken, then devouring the foolish Victorio. The paths they all have walked this day, long and filled with a world of tragedy and pain. He shakes his head in silence. It was a price they were willing to pay for far more than mere vengeance.
Slowly he moves himself forward, stopping to once again touch the cheek of Elanor with his bloodied hand, before he looks up at the wyrm. It was time. To no one in particular, he tips his hat, before closing his eyes and falling backwards.
He submits to the wants of the magic inside him, letting it fill his battered body with its fiery, chaotic might. He feels its desire to fuel a thousand different lights and sounds, to make a world of entropy and then to destroy it, for no reason other than it can. It wants to consume and create in the same breath... It wants much... today will be its day.
The air around Svilfon begins to shimmer and twist as it heats up, any snow beneath him forming liquid then steam in a matter of moments. But still more magic comes until the wizard feels his very self being consumed. Only then does he completely let it free. As he did against the lichdrow in the shadow of the Xalious Tree, so too does he now – and the result is the same. A huge ball of fire is born, tearing through the flesh and bones of both child and wyrm as it destroys everything within this den. The wizard doesn't teleport like last time, he remains there, watching through eyes which cannot see the last fate of the final Empath Wyrm. He watches the body be destroyed, he watches the lingering malevolence be consumed... he watches it all for longer than he should, for he feels his own flesh and bones being eaten by it all; the protections of his robes and hat unable to shield him completely. Yet, he doesn't entirely care just now. This was his freedom, as death was Elanor's, and it isn't until the last flickering of smoke and flame has fizzled out entirely that he would attempt to move....
For those outside the den, there would be a silence that was shattered by a horrific noise. A huge explosion which tears from the very ground of Frostmaw the den they hid in, the protections they offered. Tendrils of flame come from within it, seeking the poachers marked by Svilfon earlier. Each of them is devoured by his magic, even the stain of their blood is gone from the ground. The flames would burn for a long time before they died, leaving a crater of sorts on the planes of Frostmaw's frozen tundra, the only thing remaining within is a small, broken skeleton of a substance even the wizard's mighty magic couldn't entirely destroy. But it is not seen for long, as the snow and ice of Frostmaw comes to reclaim this land as its own, to cover it deep with its white and keep whatever lingers here hidden from those who should not ever gaze upon it.
Of the wizard, there is no sign. Nothing but a smoke and soot is left on the ground... but what was set out to do, they have done... vengeance for the death of many, safety for the creatures of Frostmaw and other lands... And now there can be... not peace, it is not a life that would suit Frostmaw's citizens well... but at least, perhaps... if they are lucky... rest.