End Game: the Crucible.

[Legion]

OOCAlana, Hanno, Louie, Vanos, Veldrys, Sela, Seodai, Sitkanis, Xelhes.

I thought I could organize freedom How [Denvali] of me You sussed it out, didn't you? You could smell it So you left me on my own To complete the mission Now I'm leaving it all behind - Bjork - Timestamp: 77th Winter 511 A.V. morning Daylight dripped from the windowsill in tune with the slow melt of frost from the glass and the fleeing echo of Siwa's footsteps beyond. A shawl of snow leached much of the color from the sea cliff overlooking Denval proper and the orchards sprawling behind the historic barracks starved. The front parlor of the Opal Clinic was unusually active, but it had the fortune of having been expanded to encompass the wealth of what had been two rooms before Cian Noc had a wall torn down some years back. "Hanno, honey," the healer called from where he knelt on the floor. The furniture in the room was in the process of being pushed back against the walls, leaving the majority of the floor cleared with even the rugs themselves being built up. "Bring me those sheets!" Those gathered had been summoned at the crack of dawn to report immediately to the Opal Clinic on order of Captain Astrid. A flush cheeked, bright eyed Jonas Marx, only child of the Academy Lieutenant, had played messenger. Before questions could be asked, he had flown off to the next house, the next contact, set on the mission entrusted in him. As the summoned had arrived alone and in pairs, they were set to tasks by the indomitable Cian Noc. They were moving the parlor furniture, fetching medical supplies from the clinic store rooms, building up a fire in the stone hearths occupying either end of the room. Their hands were kept busy so that their minds would not run out through their mouths and in many of them shards of past life memories burned brighter and brighter. Rising to his feet, Cian drew their attention. With the quiet strength of one who stood toe to toe with death, he told them. Others had gone hunting for Suwor, the old magus who had retired to his little hermitage after recovering -- or so it was thought -- from a magical experiment gone wrong. He had been all but forgotten over the past few years, his daughter occasionally taking things out to him that he could not make or catch for himself. But Denval kept moving under the urging hand of Captain Astrid, building a Road, inviting scholars from Zeltiva, attempting to live and not just survive. Young Mihai's murderer sussed out and the Sunsinger arrived, the hunt was on. Those here were needed to prepare for the hunters' return and what hell might come at their heels in the form of injuries. Yet when the back door of the clinic had slammed behind Suwor's daughter, the acolyte Siwa, mere minutes before, an equally as grave task was laid upon them. "Behold," Cian said and thrust out his hand, fingers unraveling to reveal what he had been given. It was a chunk of amber the size of walnut with a silver moth trapped inside. It glowed with a holy eclipse and suffered from a blackened crack down its center. "The Solduvan Stone." The artifact thieved from the Arsenal as learned by the Captain in the wake of the disastrous Feast for Rak'keli flickered in the memory of a holocaust flame. "Friends, Denval needs us now," Delano Marx rose from where he had been coaxing one of the fires. "That thing needs fixed or destroyed. It's our duty to figure out how."

[Seodai]

"You can't destroy it." The knowledge of who he had once been, the lingering presence of Melchior in his thoughts, hadn't quite felt like a possession. A struggle, perhaps, with values and loyalties that were polar opposite, but Seodai had never felt entirely controlled by them. In this moment he did, however, those words falling from his lips before he even had a moment to think. It was an assertion he felt to be true like a rage, boiling up inside of him. It was delivered with the confidence of someone long past, a mage with powers Seodai would never possess. It was not at all like the gentle young farmer most in the room had come to know, from the tone of his voice to the expression on his face. It was, in fact, the peculiar glance he received from Delano - who had taught him how to carry his own weapon - that caused Seodai to step down. And frustration. Frustration turned Seo's big blue eyes away from the stone that compelled him, beckoned him like a magnet. Behind his lids he could see her, with that golden stone held in her palm. She had been so pleased. So relieved. She had been certain that it would make the difference. But it hadn't. It hadn't saved them, nor had it saved her. It still didn't change the fact that, only a few feet away, nestled innocuously in Noc's palm, was a physical link to Kova. Something she had literally touched. The thought made him ache. Even as the part of Seodai that had become Melchior, that breathed for his misery and loss, struggled with the sudden presence of the stone, and the implications of it all, Seodai was still himself. The young farmer who had lived every moment of life in Denval, had loved Denval with every breath, had reason to worry. Theo had left the house just before he did, similarly summoned. That could only mean that his uncle, more a father than that, was now off on a dangerous mission. On the way to the clinic Seodai had stopped by the Lyceum, but Syllke had been gone as well. Jumping to conclusions, Seodai now assumed that his Vantha friend, who would be useful on such an expedition, had been drawn into the trouble as well. It wasn't a far leap to assume that his favorite cousin, his friend, Talen was along for the ride - being a member of the guard, and all. The notion of them seeking out a crazed mage did not settle well with him, especially now that he understood magic as Melchior had understood it. He had lost many he loved because of it, in another lifetime. Would he now? All the preparation they had just made mocked him. Was he preparing to nurse his own beloved, any of them, away from death? He felt angry that he wasn't with them, angry that he'd been called for this and not that. He knew why, though. What use would he have been out there? Conflicted blues lifted away from the fire he'd been staring into, back to the stone. It was ugly now, broken and marred. But he could remember. He could remember the weight of it in his palm, and the very moment he'd stolen it from Denval, so many years ago.

[Alana Kaye]

OOCSorry it’s super short and probably a bit rubbish. Alana doesn’t have a past life experience I can pull into it. And I figure that some of you will know her, since she’s lived here her whole life.

Alana was still slightly sleepy; it was rare for her to be up so early. And she was confused as to what the Opal Clinic would want with her. She healed animals, not people. All the same, upon her arrival she had pitched in, gathering various medical supplies and shifting furniture. She turned her attentions to Cian as he stood, waiting curiously to see what was going on. Alana frowned; people were hunting a mage? Her eyes shifted to the supplies they had been gathering. Just what kind of injuries were the others likely to come back with? An irrational stab of panic engulfed her. Alana didn’t know the first thing about healing people. Then again, she wasn’t sure how many of those here did. The stone that was then presented was a curious object. She imagined that it would be beautiful if it weren’t marred by that crack. The tasks that were now being laid upon them seemed far past Alana’s understanding. Of course, she wasn’t about to admit it, nor would she give up without trying. Her gaze flicked over to Seodai. His words have been forceful, confident. ”How do you know that for sure?”

[Veldrys]

Unlike most of the others Veldrys didn’t question Cian’s summons. As a healer the Symenestra was used to being called from his home at odd hours to treat a sick or wounded person or even help out at the Clinic. There was nothing at all unusual about it. What was unusual was that he didn’t seem to be the only one who had been summoned. He looked at the people that were gathered around him, a somewhat worried expression on his pale face. What was going on here? Why were there so many people at the Clinic? And why were they ordered to fullfill seemingly random tasks?

He looked at Cian. His eyes widened as he saw the stone in the human’s hands. He remembered it, remembered it even though he had never seen it before. It had come to him in a vision in his past life, a life that was becoming clearer and clearer now. He had also seen it when he had drank Xelhes‘ blood. He extended his hand, as if he wanted to ask for permission to touch it, but then he lowered his hand and simply looked at it.

As he did so, he whispered a few words, the prophecy he had once made, in a life that he had lived centuries ago.

„Syna will send her sun-singer
To Denval for the lovers' prize
Alas, he will not mend the ties
Cut by Firelord, holocaust-bringer.“

„Would a hammer not destroy it?“ he asked Seodai who stood near him. „It’s a stone, isn’t it? But I would rather try to fix it. It seems a waste to destroy something like that.“ It had been of great importance to him when he had been human. It wasn’t right to destroy it when they had just found it. Besides, he couldn’t help but remember the second prophecy. Viratas had mentioned something about orbs or an orb that needed to be fused ...

[Sela]

"What the hell, Cian?"

The stark words, laced with a thousand years of agony and pain, cut through the milieu of the Clinic with a bit more volume and intensity than the speaker intended. It was directed solely at the man behind that travesty of an artifact, and it's origin - a singular woman gathered among those called to help. A newcomer to Denval. Her small, delicate shape might have birthed thoughts that such a loud voice was impossible, but Sela made a living of defying other peoples's expectations. As well as crushing them.

"Where did you get that? How did you get that?! It's supposed to be destroyed..." The image of the Denvali garrison, wreathed in flames and magic, sprung to the forefront of her mind. The damages wrought by the stone had been fixed, she knew, but Sela had been led to believe the stone itself had been destroyed by the energies released. It should have been destroyed.

The stone was exactly as Sela remembered it. Or, almost exactly. Their was one difference, a blackened crack extended down the surface, ruining the glowing amber exterior which she knew so well. Unlike her compatriots, the memories of the years in which the Solduvan Stone had wreaked havoc were fresh in her mind, not fished from the mind of a past life. She had thought that the episode was over. That all the lives dead from that blasted artifact had been finally laid to rest.

Apparently not. But at least Sela knew now why she had been called to Denval.

Sela strode forward like a storm approaching, with lightning in her eyes and destruction in her heart. She had been readily on hand for Cian's calling, having been to the Opal Clinic not twenty-four hours ago. She'd not reveal that to anyone, of course, but at the very least the encounter had been...interesting.

"A hammer would not destroy this...thing." She spat. "It's too powerful for that. A more drastic destruction must be found." In her mind, there was no "fixing" the Stone, though she knew that it was most likely possible. No. That wouldn't work for her.

This abomination, this tempter of men, it must be destroyed! Her mind screamed.

"For Orionis." She agreed.

[Seodai]

"The hell you will." His original statement had been misunderstood, of course. He was hardly trying to assert that it was impossible to destroy the stone. Instead, he was stating that he wouldn't allow it. Of course, as Seodai, he had far less skill with which to protect the stone than he had when he was Melchior. But still, he couldn't stand idly by and watch something so atrocious happen. His eyes flashed at Sela, the woman he had met on the streets earlier in the season. He'd hardly call her friend. Seodai called precious few, that. But they had hardly been at odds with one another, then. In this moment, though, he wanted to wrap his calloused hands about her throat and shake her for that remark. Unaccustomed to this sort of anger, this consuming sort of emotion, Seodai did a poor job of concealing it. Everyone in the room who knew him at all would have likely been shocked at his behavior. The tone of his voice, the expression on his face - it was as if an imposter had been supplanted in Seo's place. With fingers curling into his palms, Seodai stalked forward as well, with Noc and the stone becoming the rallying point for the conflict. "You're not going to destroy it," he half seethed, bright blues flickering quickly from her face up to Noc, with whom he had danced in the world of dreams. "You're not, Noc. It can be fixed. We'll figure out how to fix it." Of course, he wasn't entirely sure how. Or if it was even possible. Solduvan had bestowed beautiful and strong magic in the stone, originally. Whatever had made it so ugly, so gruesome, must have been an incredible power too. Still, he stubbornly held on to the thrum of white hot emotion in his breast and the knowledge that by doing away with that stone, the very last thing of Kova would be destroyed. He couldn't let it happen.

[Xelhes]

Winter 77, 511 A.V. Being summoned to the Opal Clinic was a surprise to Xelhes, though a happy surprise. He had never really been to the Clinic as the Ethaefal had never been ill or suffered any wounds. The only time he would have been there was after his fall to check for injury, yet the first weeks of this life was a total blur; there was no way he could recall if he truly had or not. When he arrived Xelhes was set to do tasks like many others, moving some furniture before being sent to gather medicinal supplies. The whole experience made him feel almost like an assistant to the workers at the Clinic, and for a brief moment Xelhes never thought to question why people were being gathered or why he had to collect various supplies. Eventually the amount of people present made him wonder, as many more showed up, just what exactly was going to transpire here today. When he saw people he knew Xelhes gave nods and small greetings to them, focusing on his tasks until finally he only had one left. Carrying some rolls of bandage with him, Xelhes greeted Veldrys, saying, "It has been awhile, Veldrys. Nice to see you are doing well, though I should not really be surprised an actual healer was summoned as well. But...I have no idea why anyone was summoned, let alone myself." When Xelhes saw Seodai and Louie he gave them a kind smile; a silent hello to the people he knew to an extent. Seeing Vanos as well the Ethaefal gave the Isur a smile along with a wave, trying to do so without dropping the rolls of bandage. It had been a long while since he had spoken to Vanos and he could not help but wonder if the man would think that Xelhes had changed; had become more social and warm. Maybe afterwards he could spend some time speaking with the Isur again, this time in a conversation that was less one sided. When Cian opened his hand to showed the Stone, Xelhes dropped the rolls in shock as he blinked quickly for a moment. It was the Stone, the thing he had seen when Veldrys bit him; the Stone he had been sent to find back in a life now long past. Whispering a mild curse he picked up the rolls, Xelhes tried his best to make sure they did not start to ravel. His mind was focus on the Stone, wondering how Cian had come across it when Xelhes had not during his searches. He listened silently as Seodai, Alana, Veldrys, and Sela spoke, thinking on what each said. In the end he had to agree with Seodai as he did not want to see the Stone destroyed. When Seodai finished talking Xelhes turned his gaze towards Cian and said, "I agree with Seodai. The Stone should be fixed, not destroyed. In a different life Leth sent his followers to retrieve the Stone and return it to Denval, not to destroy it. While the Stone did not possess the scar it does now, Leth wanted the Stone to be with Denval and I think there must have been a reason." Taking a breath, he turned towards Veldrys, giving the Symenestra a small and encouraging smile. "Besides, I do not think that the message we were left with said anything about destroying the Stone. If anything it seems more like destroying it will only bring about our own destruction, and Denval's as well." Xelhes wanted Veldrys to speak of the prophecy he had been told by Viratas, to prove that the Stone should not be destroyed. Remembering the prophecy Veldrys had recited to him truly did make him think that if they did anything other than try to fix the Stone, Denval and their lives would end. Setting the bandages down with the rest of the supplies, Xelhes stood beside Seodai, giving the man a kind smile. He truly believed that Seodai was right and would gladly help in anyway he could to fix the Stone. How exactly was completely beyond him. All Xelhes knew was that Leth had marked the Stone in the past, and had sent him to find it, not destroy it. There had to be a way to fix the stone but all Xelhes knew was what the Stone looked like; even the very magic the Stone possessed was a mystery to the Ethaefal. How was he going to be any help when he had no information? He wanted to help restore the Stone, but what could he do?

[Sela]

Sela's face returned to the stone from which it had been carved, erasing any remaining trace of her outburst. The light in her eyes dimmed, was reined in; Sela once more exerted a tight control over her faculties, even though she wanted nothing more than to scream at the Denvalis around her.

"Very well." The words that pierced her lips were not her own - it was as if someone else spoke now. "I never said it couldn't be fixed. Of course it can. It just shouldn't be fixed. This artifact will bring nothing but pain to you." Sela's eyes caught Seodai's, her main opposition. She had not expected him to raise such a staunch defense, but it seemed the man she had met in the street had secrets of his own. "But I know I cannot convince you here and now. So pursue your fantasies of glory. Satisfy your impatient gods."

"Just know I will be here to clean up the mistakes you will make."

And with that, Sela took a step back, her arms crossing across her thin chest. These measly peasants had no idea what they were getting into...and Sela had no intention of telling them. Let them experience the true horror of godly interference with mortal lives firsthand. Just like she had...when she had seen one of her best friends die over that Stone...

Her ichor ran cold, and Sela had to stop a sob from coming over her. This was not what she was here for. She had to be strong. For Orionis. For Galatia. For Moira...

Sela's eyes flickered up at Cian, then back down. "So what are we going to do...?" She murmured, her voice indistinct.

[Sitkanis]

OOCSorry for my late entry. I got the go ahead from Legion. The call to the Clinic was almost welcomed by Sitkanis. There was no hope of sleep, not anymore. It was as if there was a war raging in his mind. Two people, two incarnations of himself seemed to be at war with one another in his mind. Luukas had surfaced a few seasons ago. He had been hard to deal with but after a while, Sitkanis learned to deal. He was his mortal form, the face he showed to Syna. The pair needed to find harmony some how, even though the whole entity of "Sitkanis" was a temporary one. Sitkanis was bits stitched together from what he had learned since falling and the little bits of Luukas that had been left behind. Someday Sitkanis would wash away, waining to Luukas, who he really was. It was inevitable but Sitkanis did not know this. The second incarnation was a Myrian by the name of Kalemi. It seemed she had descended on him seemingly overnight. It was as though she whispered everything she was to him one night and then from that moment on she was just there. She was strong and completely ruthless. Sitkanis had thought Luukas had been brutal but then he saw the might of Kalemi of the Deafening Roar. He had seen horrible things though her eyes. Death, pain, blood, and destruction. These were things she welcomed and savored and somewhere within him, he hated himself for finding it all so discomforting. He didn't hate it, Kalemi did. Every night it seemed as though Luukas and Kalemi were fighting one another. The ruthless Myrian and the proud Drykas. Even as Sitkanis walked though the doors of the clinic and joined the rest of the people gathered, he could still feel them fighting. It was not like hearing voices. Sitkanis could comfort himself on not being that far gone. It was more a rage of emotions. Kalemi would have hated Luukas for being male and Luukas would have hated Kalemi for being female. They both would have picked and prodded at one another if they had ever met but they never would. Only in Sitkanis could they fight. The Ethaefal was exhausted and it was clear in his eyes. When once they were bold, piercing brown, they just seemed like lifeless mud. There was so much of Kalemi in his mind now and still so little of Luukas. He was in the form of the Drykas when in his mind, he knew the Myrian so much better. When the stone was shone, Sitkanis felt a pull to it but he did not move. He remembered through Kalemi it's importance. He saw Moira and how he… how Kalemi was sworn to protect her and the stone. Some spoke of fixing it, others spoke of it's destruction. Sitkanis' first instinct was to demand it's protection. It would be what Kalemi wanted. Sitkanis was not Kalemi anymore though. It seemed like as the days passed he was forgetting that. He was getting lost in her memories and forgetting so much of Endrykas. When once his daydreams consisted of seas of grass and horses, now all he saw was jungle and roaring beasts. "I feel so sick… I just want to go home to Myri… No, I mean Leth… I just want to be Drykas again." Even in his thoughts, Sitkanis could not escape Kalemi. She was integrating herself with him so well. His breathing was short and quick and his heart raced. "I just need to breathe and think. Never mind what the Myrian and Drykas would want. What do I want? The Ethaefal's eyes turned to the woman, the only one who seemed opposed to the fixing of the stone. "You seem to know a bit about this stone. Maybe instead of us jumping to fix something which seems to be causing so much trouble around here, you should talk. That is, unless you are just talking for the sake of it." He spoke so the others could hear. While Kalemi would have done next to anything to protect the stone, Sitkanis forced her out of his mind, at least for now. She would have been loyal and she had passed on. He had his own mind, at least for now, and he would make use of it. His brown eyes watched the woman, focusing on her as he spoke. With each word he tried to become more attuned with her, or better yet, her aura. He watched and waited to see the feel and colors of her reaction. "Why shouldn't we try to fix it?"

[Legion]

The healer closed his fist about the stone, knuckle whites bleeding out through burnished skin. His mouth twisted with the same collection of thought that drew together his eyebrows as he watched and waited, listening to the argument play out in his parlor. Weight shifted, leaning him toward Sela in an unconscious gesture when she spoke the name Orionis. “Siwa,” he said slowly and his words were thick, tongue especially heavy when he named the acolyte. “Siwa brought it to me. Her father, they’re going after him as we speak. He’s the one who murdered Mihai,” and turned his handprints into bloody butterflies. Delano’s face twisted into a grimace and he straightened, whirling about to fall into a restless pacing before the windows. “That makes her a traitor,” the lieutenant muttered under his breath. Cian flickered a glance at Delano, something akin to disgust and heartbreak sliding through his eyes, but he did not comment. Traitor was a word that bit too deep. “You say it wasn’t cracked?” Cian refocused and it was more of a struggle than he anticipated. “Xelhes? You remember it? Specificially?” A beat and hazel eyes swept the room. “Wait, who here does? All of you? Is there anyone who doesn’t have some mad, other life recollection of the Solduvan Stone?” Cian raised his eyebrows at those gathered, many friends and long cohorts. “I have none myself,” he confessed, “But,” he hesitated, “But some have told me who I was. A woman by the name of Moira, Moira Solduvan. It seems I made this blasted thing.” “As a lover’s token, a communication method for the garrison,” Delano snapped, annoyed at some suggestion, maybe, brought on the heels of having uttered the word traitor. They needed to figure out what was wrong with it if they were going to fix it, and that was clearly the direction Cian was starting to lean when, without warning, he startled like a cat. The fist holding the stone, he shook before unraveling his fingers. The light and shadow trapped in the amber braided, sprinkling strange rainbows over his face, over the floor. Sunlight winked on the stone and within the minds of all gathered a vision bloomed, a three second clip of the hunting party. “Oops,” Cian mumbled.