On Isune and Yomoigu

PortiusPortius Likes big books, cannot lieMember Posts: 1,366 Transcendent
edited February 2014 in Event Scrolls
In which Isune describes her relationship with Yomoigu in terms that Portius can understand, and turns Yomoigu into a god that Portius' player really wants to meet.

You say to Isune, "So, may I interrogate You, Lady?"

Isune lifts Her eyebrow slightly, curious.

Isune, the Aesthete says, "Interrogation is an intriguing past-time of choice,
but very well. You interest Me."

You say to Isune, "You may recall, Lady, a certain prayer? Sealed with the
sacrifice of several pigeons?"

Maerad creases her brow in a frown.

You say, "Pigeons which, I might add, I killed with my very own scalpel, at
great physical exertion?"

Isune's eyes sparkle with amusement.

Maerad Windwhisper, Student of Temporal Science sidles quietly over to the
gathering pigeons, cooing fondly at them in apology.

Isune, the Aesthete says, "You slay for a poor reason, but I suppose I can
indulge you."

Isune, the Aesthete says, "You asked of the One-Armed God."

You say, "That is correct. I am surprised to have heard rumors that You had a
history with Him, and surprised that one of the Fifth could ever live in
Gaudiguch."

Isune, the Aesthete says to you, "As to what you wish to ask Me, I shall give
you audience in My Fulcrux after the events of the Vengeance bout are
concluded."

----Some time later----


The Fulcrux of Isune.
The summit of the mountain stands tallest among many in a volcanic range which
breaks the barrier of white clouds below, and the shallow caldera of this one in
specific has been cleared to create a terraced courtyard which stands open to
the air. Distantly, some of the volcanic peaks glow with an inner heat, and one
or two throw trails of smoke to the sky. Sweeping clouds of the barrier below
the peaks stretch on to a crystal clear, aquamarine horizon, bands of soft white
waves ranging across a sea of dusty blue-grey through which hints of lands below
can be seen. Above that sea, the sky fades from aquamarine at the horizon to a
cool and star-studded blue-violet overhead. Across the courtyard within the
caldera, however, small and reflective tiles of all types, sizes, and materials
have been arranged in patterns of clouds and feathered creatures. Echoing the
patterns, twisting outcrops of metal with a platinum sheen rise in shapes
loosely resembling flocks of interconnected birds or singular birds of prey,
their eyes marked with small precious and semi-precious stones. Shifting and
shimmering in undulating waves, heatless sparks rise in a rippling fountain of
light. The graceful, translucent form of a bird of paradise dances in the air,
the insubstantial image shifting through a constant stream of vivid colours. A
smooth scroll crafted from silk lies on the ground here.
There are no obvious exits.

Motes of light around the caldera pulse brightly as a soft voice echoes,
"Tidings, Mine."

You say, "Greetings, Lady."

You say, "Did You wish to invite the rest of the Salon, or the Order?"

Maerad arrives, following High Scion Zyphora Windwhisper.
Zyphora coalesces from within the sparkling light of the fountain.

Zyphora curtseys gracefully.

Motes of light around the caldera pulse brightly as a soft voice echoes, "I
believe Zyphora and--ah, yes. I am clairvoyant."

Maerad hides a grin behind her hand.

You say, "Naturally, Lady. Was that ever in doubt?"

High Scion Zyphora Windwhisper says, "My daughter told me there was to be a
recounting of the tale of the encounter with Lord Yomoigu."

Zyphora tilts her head curiously.

You whisper to Maerad, "Flattery will get you everywhere."

Motes of light around the caldera pulse brightly as a soft voice echoes,
"Somewhat."

Sparks of colour twirl about the caldera's rim with faint amusement.

High Scion Zyphora Windwhisper frowns and says, "I had not yet heard the story,
and from everyone's reaction, it seems that it is necessary to hear."

Curtseying deeply, High Scion Zyphora Windwhisper says, "I apologise for my
absence during the episode, my Lady."

Motes of light around the caldera pulse brightly as a soft voice echoes, "The
story itself is rather droll. The Lord Yomoigu barged into My Fulcrux, made
outrageous claims about My character, and anticipates future conflict with Me
and Mine."

Motes of light around the caldera pulse brightly as a soft voice echoes, "Would
that Yomoigu had apologised for His arrival."
Feathers drooping, Maerad Windwhisper, Student of Temporal Science whispers, "He
was...horrible."

Frowning with displeasure, High Scion Zyphora Windwhisper says, "That sounds
terribly impolite. He has not brought harm to anyone yet, has He?"

Motes of light around the caldera pulse brightly as a soft voice echoes, "Not as
of yet, but I highly doubt a grudge such as His is the sort to fade away
easily."

You say, "What is the cause of this grudge, Lady?"

The sparks about the caldera flicker sharply.

High Scion Zyphora Windwhisper fans her wings at a slow, rhythmic beat, belying
the irritation showing in her countenance.

Motes of light around the caldera pulse brightly as a soft voice echoes, "What
else? The events of the Elder Wars. That era which destroyed the trust most of
Us had in one another."

You nod your head emphatically.

Maerad Windwhisper, Student of Temporal Science's brow dips in a frown that only
deepens as she listens, wings folded limply behind her.

Motes of light around the caldera pulse brightly as a soft voice echoes, "This
answer does not satisfy you, My Weaver?"

You say, "He puzzles me, Lady, as one who could have been in the Fifth yet found
his way to Gaudiguch. I know that He worked on the elixir, but that itself does
not seem as thought it would cause Him to hate You."

You say, "I would therefore like to know the details, if You will share them,
such that I might understand Him, and perhaps gain some insight into what could
corrupt a noble researcher and drive him, much like my uncle(EDITOR'S NOTE: Eritheyl), to evil."

Motes of light around the caldera pulse brightly as a soft voice echoes,
"Imagine that you are Yomoigu for a moment."

You say, "I shall try."

Motes of light around the caldera pulse brightly as a soft voice echoes, "You
have poured yourself completely into the studies of the Fifth Circle, that being
the acquiring of Knowledge."

You nod your head emphatically.

You say, "As is right and proper."

Motes of light around the caldera pulse brightly as a soft voice echoes, "And
this knowledge was undertaken to create the Elixir, to fight back the impossible
swarm of the Soulless."

You say, "I presumably thought this to be necessary, if possibly unpleasant."

Motes of light around the caldera pulse brightly as a soft voice echoes, "You
did not know the result of such actions. You could never have dreamed how they
would play out, how many lives would change."

You say, "Naturally."

Motes of light around the caldera pulse brightly as a soft voice echoes, "And
yet, the result was what it was. Change occurred. And the Elixir was forbidden."

You nod your head emphatically.

Motes of light around the caldera pulse brightly as a soft voice echoes,
"Imagine you are Yomoigu when you learn that Fain and His Traitors have
continued its use. Imagine that you have been accused of continuing it as well."

Motes of light around the caldera pulse brightly as a soft voice echoes, "And
now, knowing you have created this abominable thing, picture just how many Gods
and Goddesses believe your innocence."

You say, "I imagine I'd be wounded to know that I am distrusted through their
actions, and that many would hate me. But I think I would feel some pride in my
work being used."

You say, "But He was hated, I presume. And I cannot imagine Him bearing it
well."

Motes of light around the caldera pulse brightly as a soft voice echoes, "There
was a time when Yomoigu and I were fond of one another. Not many of the Fifth
Circle were kind enough to overlook My presence in Their discussions, and kinder
still to answer My questions, as banal as they seemed coming from a Goddess of
the Fourth."

Motes of light around the caldera pulse brightly as a soft voice echoes, "We...
I suppose you could have called Us friends."

You nod your head emphatically.

Motes of light around the caldera pulse brightly as a soft voice echoes, "This
ceased the moment the Elixir was revealed to be the evil that it was. This
ceased the moment I, and many others, began to doubt."

Motes of light around the caldera pulse brightly as a soft voice echoes,
"Yomoigu has spent an eternity surviving in His own creations, with nothing but
these thoughts to content Him. Now He is free to act on them. Now His hatred has
purpose."

Portius takes a breath and bites his bottom lip, eyes widening.

You say, "Ah. I believe I understand, Lady."

Motes of light around the caldera pulse brightly as a soft voice echoes, "I
trust this answers your question, My Weaver."

You nod your head emphatically.

You say, "Thank You, Lady."

Motes of light around the caldera pulse brightly as a soft voice echoes, "This
conversation has exhausted Me. I believe I shall retire to the Havens, where My
thoughts are less scattered."

You say, "Of course, Lady. Once again, my thanks."

Motes of light around the caldera pulse brightly as a soft voice echoes, "You
sought knowledge, Portius. I hope you are pleased at having received it."

High Scion Zyphora Windwhisper inclines her head, saying, "Thank You." She
curtseys deeply towards the caldera.

The lights about the caldera dim, flickering once more before going dark.

Maerad Windwhisper, Student of Temporal Science stares worriedly into the
caldera for so long that she almost forgets to curtsey, hurriedly dipping
clumsily at the last moment.

High Scion Zyphora Windwhisper gently places a hand on your shoulder for a brief
moment.

Lord-Librarian Portius Windwhisper, Weaver of the Aurora turns
his eyes towards Zyphora.

You say to Zyphora, "May I help you, cousin?"

With a half-smile, High Scion Zyphora Windwhisper says, "I just wanted to say...
you didn't do wrong, asking."

You say to Zyphora, "No. One never does."

High Scion Zyphora Windwhisper inclines her head briefly.

You say, "Hm. Well. I should go. Much to think about."

You say, "As in the Circles, thus in the Collective."
Any sufficiently advanced pun is indistinguishable from comedy.
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