PM to join Made With Fury (Rigel)

[Saiyin]

83rd Spring, 518 AV
"Speech"

☼ 83rd: Tired of the drought, someone takes a booth at the Basilika to condemn Morwen, words that have been heard before. A heated debate begins to ensue when someone steps up to argue, tired of the hate that has been circulating since it seems to have had no effect thus far.

Saiyin loved the Basilika. There were many special places in the city, how could there not be when it was constructed of such wondrous materials like skyglass and the very mountains themselves? But the Basilika was of great importance to the young woman. Not only was it a place she and her family had frequented several times during the course of her childhood education, but in more recent times she had come to love the hustle and bustle of the discussions. There were mathematicians groaning about their calculations, clever young thinkers discussing the gods and elders conversing on the meaning of life. Saiyin felt the place was a gleaming, crystalline gem in an otherwise humdrum world, though this description could be used to define Lhavit in general, she thought.

It was some way into the afternoon on the sunny day of the 83rd. Saiyin stepped into the Basilika, fresh-faced, with her hair swept back into a plait running down the back of her neck. It was messy, but not overly. In general, there was little to draw her out from the rest of the people milling in the crowd. It was busier than normal too, though it took a few moments to figure out why. Shouting wasn't an unusual occurrence, but there was a great deal of yelling accompanied by discontent that ran almost visibly through the crowd.

Saiyin was in no way a seer in that she was down-to-earth and attempted to be sensible about most things. That didn't matter when it came to reading the people that stood in the Basilika that day. She began walking slowly through the crowd, trying to hear the voices more clearly and thus worming her way forwards until she was almost at the forefront of the action. She held her feeling in the bowl of her stomach. That feeling reminded her of Winter.

The rowing intensified. She peered on tiptoes to see over the shoulder of a much taller man standing in her way to spot the speakers. She could just about see a willowy man brandishing a tense, angry fist at someone else. Several people were interjecting noisily, and several others were trying to get them to be quiet so they could hear the original speaker. In all, the confusion only lead her to lean into the nearest person and ask, "What's going on, do you know?" To her surprise, as she looked around she noticed that she recognised the man, although she couldn't quite place his features. Even with the air of unease, she couldn't help but exclaim in cheerful surprise, "Where do I know you from?"

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[Rigel Nebula]

The Basilika was a beautiful place, much like the rest of Lhavit. However, unlike the other buildings that he has seen so far, the walls, along with the roof, were made completely out of skyglass, adding to the already-spacious appearance of the grand hall. The Basilika functioned as both an art gallery and a gathering place for intellectuals who wished to share ideas or just socialise. There was a feeling of freedom about the place which, coupled with the prospect of spending time with like-minded individuals and learning something worth-while, was exactly what drew Rigel to the Basilika.

Upon arrival, Rigel was instantly captivated by the enormous collection of art that was dispersed about the interior, dividing the large hall into different sections and adding to the magnificence of the skyglass building. Ranging from paintings to sculptures, each artwork portrayed something that must have held some significance to the artist who created it. One artwork in particular held Rigel's attention as he gazed at it. It was a life-sized painting of a man resting peacefully upon a bed of golden light which streaked out from underneath him, reaching every part of the large canvas. Amongst all the radiant colors of the painting, however, was a dark gaping hole in the man's chest where his heart would have been. Something about the painting was familiar, but Rigel couldn't quite guess where he might have encountered it.

"Sad, is it not?", said the voice of an old woman next to Rigel. He looked towards her and she inclined her head in greeting. The woman's eyes spoke of nothing but kindness and, though she was old, she stood proudly and upright, her white hair falling down the center of her back. Rigel bowed respectfully, something he learnt was a custom in Lhavit, and turned towards the painting again.

"It's beautiful," He responded contemplatively, "But I cannot understand what the artist might have meant by this painting."

"Ah," The woman spoke sadly, "I wouldn't expect you to. This is one of the long-forgotten gods, Aquiras. He is the lover of Priskil, goddess of light and hope. Thus, the bed of light upon which he lies. Aquiras kept the watchtowers working until that maniac snake-of-a-man, Sagallius, ripped his heart out during the Valterrian and used it to become a god. Thus, the hole where his heart should be."

"Wow", Rigel responded. He remembered reading about something similar during his time in Zeltiva and, although he wasn't particularly religious, he couldn't help but feel some sorrow for Priskil. Losing a loved one is not something that one easily accepts. This, he learned first-hand.

Suddenly, the sound of angry shouting erupted through the hall, interrupting Rigel's thoughts. He looked for the source of the commotion and his eyes fell upon a man who had appeared to take the liberty of occupying a booth and complaining loudly to all who would listen. Excusing himself from the conversation with the woman, Rigel made his way towards the man's booth, curious as to what the shouting was about. He noticed that he wasn't the only one approaching the booth; the shouting seemed to be attracting many of the people present in the Basilika.

It hadn't taken too long until Rigel found out what this man was angry about. Enraged by the drought, the speaker loudly condemned Morwen for her failure to appear during the previous season, generating an uproar within the rest of the crowd; some shouted their agreement, while others trying to quieten everyone else down in an attempt to hear what the speaker has to say. It all got worse when an elderly man started arguing with the speaker, angrily brandishing a fist.

Distracting Rigel from the action was a woman next to him who wanted to know what was happening.

"Well," Rigel explained, leaning closer to the woman so that she could hear him better above all the noise, "the speaker is angry about the drought and decided to publicly damn Morwen's absence, which angered the old man over there and now—"

He suddenly stopped speaking when he looked at the woman he was addressing. It was the red-head from the Heart's Festival!

"I know you!", Rigel said excitedly, "We played darts during the Heart's Festival, remember?"

Suddenly bored of the debate, Rigel added, smiling and pointing a thumb over his shoulder, "How about we get out of here before this becomes a riot?"

[Saiyin]

"Speech"

He was someone she knew, after all. Saiyin's eyebrows shot up as mentioned the Heart's Festival, and she fumbled for the man's name, sure he'd introduced himself back then. For a moment she jumped from name to name, but she had to concede defeat with a rueful smile. She took time to gaze at his face once again. The man was dressed in black, a sombre colour that stood out amongst the art and gaiety of the Basilika. He had, to her estimations, a light and cheery look to his blue eyes, but other than that she had no idea as to what the man was like. He offered her an invitation of sorts, and she almost said yes straight away, but the crowd was already growing quite agitated and a man stepped backwards onto her foot.

"Hey! Watch where you're stepping, for goodness sake!" Saiyin burst out and lightly pushed the ignorant man. She wasn't so sure that they would riot, but it was cramped and uncomfortable, and Saiyin found the rhetoric of some in the crowd distasteful. The man didn't even apologise, so with disgust she turned and grinned instead at the young, black-haired man. "Aye, I think that'd be a good idea." She spoke in the common tongue, as did many in Lhavit, and her accent was squarely from the city.

The two people wended their way from the commotion until they were a little way from the debate but still in the Basilika. Saiyin seized the moment and in the pause she spoke up brightly. "So, what was your name again? I have either forgotten or you never said, earlier this season. What good chance that we met again! I'm Saiyin, by the way, in case I neglected to tell you too. What were you doing at the Basilika?"

Suddenly, she broke off. Though it didn't show on the surface, Saiyin was worried about the current events. She wasn't an avid fan of the goddess Morwen. Though she was a goddess, she always felt it was incredibly foolish to neglect one's duties, and people had hurt and suffered because of her actions. Then there was this to consider: no-one knew if Morwen was still in Mizahar, at least no-one that Saiyin had spoken to. Perhaps she was dead? Saiyin was almost sure that wasn't true, but stranger and more horrible things had happened in the past.

The worry flitted across her features, and she bit her lip. What did her companion think?

"Rigel? What's your opinion on the debate we heard earlier? I can't help but question if there's something terribly wrong going on. I don't suppose there's anything that little people such as us could do anything about the matters and concerns of the gods, but even so." She shrugged. "Their matters are already affecting us, whether we want them to or not, whether we are bothered or not. But no, you speak. I'm interested to hear what you think." Saiyin inclined her head towards the man, and waited for his reaction, whatever it would be.

There was something about hanging around in the Basilika that spurred her on to talk about deeper, more pressing matters than the current state of the weather, or the latest gossip. If Rigel looked like he didn't want to discuss matters, she knew she could let it drop easily and progress onto other forms of conversation, but she was genuinely interested to hear what the stranger had to say. If he was the kind of person to revere the gods, or whether he aligned himself with the side of murder and destruction, she would learn something new about the serious-faced, blue-eyed man beside her.

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[Rigel Nebula]

Rigel glared at the man who stepped on his companion's foot and was about to say something to the buffoon, but decided against it when his red-headed acquaintance had agreed to move somewhere else. 



Following close behind her, so as not to lose her in the growing crowd of Lhavitan debaters, Rigel couldn't help but think back to the conversation he had with the elderly woman whilst he had observed that painting. A mortal man killed a god, a being that was supposed to be a thousand times more powerful than any human being. So that explains the watchtowers that no longer work. He wondered if Morwen might have experienced the same fate. And if so, which mortal (or mortals) could be so monstrously powerful that they could kill a goddess as powerful as the Goddess of Winter? And why her?

Interrupting his train of thought, his female friend— he still could not remember her name— asked him for his name. So she had forgotten his name as well. Oddly, Rigel smirked.



"The name's Rigel Nebula", he answered, bowing respectfully. "Indeed, it's good to see you again.”

Answering her query as to what he was doing at the Basilika, Rigel said, “I actually just came from the Bharani Library— great collection of books. Anyway… Someone there told me about the Basilika and I decided to make a visit; it seemed like a great place to learn something from the local scholars.”

While he spoke, Rigel noticed that Saiyin seemed to zone out of the conversation and couldn’t help but wonder what might be plaguing her mind. He felt the urge to ask, but held his tongue. Perhaps she might not want to talk about it. He was about to change the topic of the conversation when she suddenly spoke up, asking a question of her own.

“I was just wondering about that, too.” Rigel responded. “It’s impossible to disagree with the fact that Morwen’s disappearance could be the reason for drought in the most of Mizahar. I mean… One could expect that the disappearance of a Goddess of one of the seasons would have some serious consequences. I try not to let it bother me too much, but—“ He broke off, worried. Rigel couldn’t help but recall the conversation he had with the old woman again. Could it be possible? He decided to voice his thoughts. “Do you think that she could have been killed? It’s happened before. Do you remember Aquiras? He was killed by Sagallius, who was a mortal at the time. If that happened again… I shudder to think what kind of power someone might have to be able to do that. And the Queen of Avanthal of all Goddesses…”

Rigel’s voice drifted to silence as he continued to think about the possibilities. Was it one of her own people that might have done it? No… He had heard that the people of Avanthal were loyal to their Queen. She would be protected fiercely. Perhaps it was another god? Or maybe there was a different explanation entirely…

“But what do you think?”, Rigel asked, directing Saiyin’s question back at her. He was genuinely interested to hear what she might be thinking.

[Saiyin]

"Speech"

Saiyin listened as the pair of them moved from the Basilika and away from the hullabaloo that accompanied it. They walked out into the street and Saiyin found herself frowning with an echoed worry. Could Morwen have disappeared and been killed? The gods were so far removed from her own sphere of living that it seemed incredibly unlikely, but as Rigel talked of Aquiras and Sagallius, she was suddenly pierced with the same, detached concern.

Morwen wasn't a goddess she particularly revered, but all the same she was a goddess, an important one at that. It seemed remarkably strange that no-one had stepped into her shoes as a replacement, even if she was gone for good Mizahar still needed a winter.

"Tell me again of Sagallius and Aquiras. The tale is an old one, and I don't study the gods in great detail. It was never one of my strong points." She looked sheepish. "As for Morwen being killed... I don't know. It seems so unlikely, and yet, wouldn't someone, maybe one of her allies in Avanthal, step in to take her place? Someone needs to bring winter to Mizahar, and it's terrible that we haven't had winter for so long now. I don't follow Morwen, though I never thought of her as a goddess I wouldn't support. Now though, I can only hope that you're wrong, and that she lives. It seems the only explanation, doesn't it? She lives, but cannot take up her role."

A solitary bird swept overhead, catching tiny flies in the upper atmosphere of the calm street. Saiyin sighed, and cast a surreptitious glance at her companion, trying to read his face. "Are there any gods you believe in, deeply? Are you a religious man, Rigel?" She wondered. Was she religious? Of course, she thought very highly of Zintila, Leth, and Syna, but of these there were none she felt a deep attachment to. They were almost a homely trio of gods and goddesses, which suddenly seemed a rather flimsy way of looking at them. Saiyin tapped her chin thoughtfully, listening to whatever Rigel had to say, and wondering how to respond if he turned the question back on her.

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[Rigel Nebula]

"This may seem strange, considering that I told you about Sagallius and Aquiras, but I am not very familiar with the gods and goddesses, either. It is also the first time I hear of the tale. A woman— a connoisseur of art, I presume— regaled me with the story." Rigel shrugged and apology. "I, too, would rather believe that Morwen was alive. Funny how we'd much rather assume the best of every situation..."

Rigel allowed his voice to drift off, deep in thought. If Morwen had not been killed, why would she, a goddess of extreme importance, abandon her post? Did she not love her people and Mizahar? Had she looked upon this world with disgust and decided that they were no longer worth her time? She is a goddess after all... Rigel doubted that a goddess of her capacity needed mortals— Or did she? He was not entirely sure how the relationship between mortals and gods worked. Perhaps he had to pay a visit to a temple and ask a priest about it.

Pulling him out of his reverie, Saiyin had asked a question. What was it that she wanted to know? Right. His religious stance. Was he even religious to begin with? Of course not . After making a quick mental list of all the gods and goddesses he knew of, he came to the conclusion that, perhaps, he could relate and understand Ivak the most amongst the gods.

Rigel opened his mouth to say as much, then closed it again, deciding against the idea. He did not wish to have Saiyin asking about his past.

Averting his eyes from Saiyin's gaze, Rigel looked up at the bird as he spoke. "No, I would not say that I am a religious man. There are no gods that I really believe in." Not that they did him any good thus far anyway.

If Saiyin is observant, she might notice the sombre change in the tone of Rigel's voice and perhaps a subtle frown as he spoke.

Plastering a smile on his face, Rigel turned to Saiyin and asked, "How about you? Are you a woman of faith?"