This is for archive purposes.
This is the first 11 posts out of 33 ORIGINAL POSTS of the Endeavors thread 12-33 are permanantly lost but if anyone manages to find them notify me immediately!
This is compiled so it will be a VERY long post! This thread goes in conjunction with Altruistic Endeavors
Elsewhere, on another plane, perhaps another world to some...
Storms continued to rage upon the ruins. The once green and fertile land was now sodden and filled with rubble. As lightning streaked the sky, a beastial form roared as it flew above a building that used to be an inn once. A pair of orange eyes looked up to gaze upon the creature, but didn't remain there long. The swirling hues of orange, purple and green, regained their sights on the one in the invisible field in front of him. A woman was within, one that looked to be sleeping but her chest did not rise or fall. A smirk twitched his pale green lips. The body within was a useless husk but if her pitful band of hero's wanted to believe that it had a purpose then it gave him glee to know they were headed for failure.
He touched the field just to feel the jolt of pain in his fingertips. He snickered, he loved pain, it awakened the senses. The Guardian knew he toyed with the field, he nor the Guardian feared each other. In that regard Sizuril had to admire the man this woman had bonded. He had plenty of skill and admiration was given to scant few. He blinked slowly as he turned to look at the Undead surrounding him and the Lady. They no longer battered at her shield. He had them all at bay, standing still and motionless, in rapture of their torment.
Soon, very soon she would be gone and the multiverse would be remade anew. A multiverse without death...His and his masters race would have a new purpose, to be rulers instead of destroyers. Just a little more time and this woman would be gone forever. A pity though, she was rather pretty despite being rather short.
Movement from behind him caught his attention, brushing back silvery hair, Sizuril turned to regard his companions. He grinned, the Grey Scourge was motionless but his grizzled face was ablaze with rage. Oh well not his fault the fool was killed by a traitorous runaway.
No one said a word, nods were made but not a word was spoken as he and companions opened a portal to leave to begin phase two of their plans. As the portal winked out, the masses of undead were released to resume their relentless pounding of the shield...Scourge however was stranded there with no way to return. Unlike the other restless souls, he began plotting revenge.
Perhaps to get back at all those that had abanded him, his clan, his new home and companions, was to befriend the enemy. He had scouted this area many times but not many passed here. The bard disappeared, but the blonde man kept returning. Maybe they could talk..maybe....
For several long moments his twin orbs of bluish-grey hue gazed contemplatively at the spot where Sizuril and his lackeys had exited through the portal, the tattered folds of his faded grey cloak whipping about wildly, both from the furious gusts of rain-laden wind and the throngs of frenzied undead which permeated the area. By and large, he ignored--and in turn was ignored by--the restless dead, the latter being attributed in equal part to the power he himself wielded, and the fact that they were far more concerned with the woman who lay dormant in the upper reaches of the ruins. He too was concerned with the female in question, but for vastly different reasons. The arrival of Sizuril had served to perhaps answer one of the many questions which lay before him and his erstwhile companions, the Queen's champions, but at the same time it raised thrice as many questions in return. Not exactly the odds he had been hoping for.
Stowing such thoughts in an empty recess of his mind for the moment, he then spun about, intent on the true reason he had come to this newfound wasteland on this particular occasion. A silent, unconscious call had been issued forth from amongst the maelstrom, and now was the time to attend its originator. Soft, yet determined footfalls carried him steadily through the harsh environs, towards the battered, bleeding, and beaten form of the man the others had mentally referred to as the Grey Scourge. A pause was taken before he knelt down to speak with the grizzled and bloodied veteran, a thoughtful gaze taking in the fact that this one deserved no small amount of credit for waylaying the desire to join the current flocks of spirits and wraiths in futilely attacking the shielded female above.
"Then again, rage and the desire for vengeance alone could give you will enough to resist the 'Call', I suppose." Reaching one leather-clad hand down without further ado, he hoisted the large, beaten male to his feet, keeping that hand securely on the man's bloodied tunic in order to hold the heavyset, aging warrior aloft. Without so much as allowing for the simplest of protests from the Scourge, his free hand waved absently to the side, a shimmering portal of blue, limned in silver, appearing in it's wake. "I hear, and acknowledge, your innermost desire. Answer my questions plainly, truthfully, and without reservation, and in return I will grant you power enough to enact your vengeance in ways you could only hope to imagine. Fail me, and, well, just rest assured that despite what you may believe, there are certainly worse tortures than those which you currently endure. First, we must retire to more hospitable surroundings...." Allowing for one final, longing gaze to fall upon the general location of the inn's ruins, the second floor in particular, he then spun to enter the portal, dragging the Scourge in his wake.
While the blonde man hefted the larger man over his shoulder and left the area. A short slender man with a painted face observed all that had transpired.
Things were not going well, but he did not expect them to. He was waiting for those behind this madness to make a major move. He could do nothing directly of course but he could point people in the right direction, just not by force.
He sighed as he looked longingly at the woman who had made his life so different yet happy years ago..He did not know how she would be once restored. Her complete restoration was not certain but the powers of the multiverse was seelking to restore balance, that is what mattered. Sadness and anger bugged him that the woman locked within was nothing but a host and her personal self did not matter in the scheme of things. He had loved that woman, he loved all of her. Accepted the things she did, what she was, what she had to do, but he loved HER, not the power within.
Before despair settled in that he would loose her forever, a flicker of golden light was near the inn's ruins. The light did not cause any alarm, but the wave of undead began scattering back AWAY from this light. It bounced and twirled. Curious he went to investigate.
Nearing the site, he was in surprise. Postive energy was dominating from this light, it came to him and stopped. He smiled at it and bid it to come with him. He opened a portal and beckoned it to follow. The light bounced wildly, it was the size of a child but it began to shrink. When it was the size of a adult sized fist, it bounded into his pocket and stayed there. Pulsating with warm joy against his heart.
The painted man stepped through the portal and stood within an office. Cogliostro's inner sanctum with a cheery smile on his face. As the portal closed, the masses of undead rushed to swarm the shield once more.
In a most weary fashion, his body slumped unceremoniously back into the comforting folds of the plush, leather-bound chair. A perplexed frown settled into place as oak-brown orbs continued to gaze at the reflective surface of the ornately crafted, full length mirror which stood some scant few feet from his desk. Several hours, stretched out over the past few tendays, had been spent contemplating this most simple seeming of objects. As with many things in the multiverse, however, appearances were indeed deceiving. Great power rested within the mirror...power which, thus far, had eluded his grasp.
The Thayan who had given him the item explained its purpose well enough, and even given a short demonstration of sorts, yet ever since the gaudy male who currently referred to himself as Morgan had parted company with himself and the mirror, the damnable thing had not functioned. Perhaps it has more sentience than had been suspected, and it knew well enough that it could not manipulate, trap, or otherwise overcome him, and became uncooperative out of spite.
"Bah, ye give too much credit to the damnable thing, old boyo...tis a simple scrying device, which I have not found the key to unlocking, that's all. I wouldn't put it past the confounded, effeminate Thayan to have handed it over just to aggravate me...." Musing quietly yet harshly to himself, his body tensed and gaze became more alert, shifting quickly to the side, as the proverbrial hairs on the back of his neck rose sharply in tune with the environ's alarms being set off and the many-layered wards being parted like butter before a hot knife. The frown devolved into a full-scale scowl as he peered toward the unknown silhouette taking form before his eyes, and it did not dissipate in the least when that figure's identity had been discerned. One could even say it deepened.
Sitting up quite abruptly now, leaning foward with elbows propped onto the smoothly crafted surface of his desk, he addressed the painted face of the almost feminine man of whom he'd just been meandering about with his thoughts, voice most dry of tone. "Speak of the devils, and who should appear but their erstwhile commander in chief...come to slap me around like a bitch some more? Or are you finally going to show me the key to using this damnable device you just so happened to leave laying about in the wake of your last visit?"
The small man known as Morgan simply smiled and stepped across the thresh hold waving away the image of a small brown haired woman with swirling colored eyes. The image disappeared and went back to being a mirror again.
"I told you, to look upon its surface, let it give you an image and you discern if it's a truth desire or lie, maybe a combination..." He trailed off a smile on his painted lips, I have brought you another 'gift,' but if you don't want it I'll give it to Cyrus," the look of the other man was enough reply for him, he stretched out his pocket and suddenly the warm was illuminated in a soft gold light and a cheery cozy feeling enveloped the surroundings immediately as a a figure, childlike in appearance, and height but bearing a resemblance to the Lady popped out.
It did a Lil jig in greeting and promptly poked Cogliostro's nose as "she" would have done with a familiar fondness both men could recognize. "I found it at the ruins, it's one of her personalities, take a guess at which one. I dunno how many more at left, but it's a start coupled with the Medallion's we've gathered." His silver eyes twinkled, "We have a chance, more than we ever did before.."
The little figure nodded and giggled, to which Morgan beamed, a sound he had not heard in three years, it sounded just like her. There was a moment of silence as he watched the figure start exploring.
Suddenly as the figure went passed the mirror, the surface flashed multi hued colors and a confused and screeching wail emitted from it. The tiny golden figure touched the surface and the mirror literally shuddered and a hiss was heard and then the surface become still and reflective again. It would seem the mirror, indeed had limits.
Both the figure and Morgan now peered at the bald mage, one looked happily at him as if proud to accomplish a good thing, the other had the expression of "Well" on it. "So shall I take it back or leave it here? The choice is yours..."
For some long moments, he offered no reply. Half in shock and awe, with curiousity portrayed as well by virtue of the single brow raised as he gazed upon the new 'gift', he could find no words to give a reply. True, he was forewarned of it ahead of time, and lectured on the semantics of it by the demonic 'bratmage' earlier in their quest, but all the same when he actually saw 'it' before his eyes he could not help but stare with wonderment and curiousity.
Finally turning away, he took a few more moments to contemplate an answer, and to regain his composure to his normal 'business-like' manner. At least in so much as being in present company would allow for. Turning a slight frown now to the Thayan, having decided he personally could not tolerate the 'chipper' female overly long, he resolved to place 'it' where it may do a bit of good.
"Leave it...erhm, her...with the child. Your child, that is. It may do her good. But then again, it may confuse her, so as the doting parent that you aren't, it is your choice in the end as to whether it be done or not. Barring that, we will be forced to let Cyrus to keep watch over 'it', as the bloody female would drive anyone else insane within a short time."
Letting the frown deepen, he looks over this newest gift a moment longer, quelling a pang of -- longing, perhaps? -- that the sight of her stirred up, then turns back to the mirror, perhaps having some needed answers now.
"In any event, leave the mirror here, I will give it another whirl. And perhaps just plain leave, as well. Too much of your womanly yet somehow almost masculine charms in one day makes my stomach churn, Thayan."
Morgan simply shrugged and opened his pocket awaiting the golden nimbus to come with him once more. He had caught the look of the other man's face. Jealousy aside, the painted man understood. With a nod and a wink.
The glowing nimbus skipped to Cogliostro and gave him a hug and then "she" waved and disappeared in sparkling light. The touch was familiar and friendly to Cogliostro, but before any emotion could form, the painted man was already gone.
Left to his own devices now, the mirror was constantly shifting images, as if displaying each emotion he felt. No image stayed on the surface long. If he were to do this it would be safer if he calmed himself no doubt.
Meanwhile, Morgan emerged, "melting" from the ceiling of Kail's bedroom, and formed solid and standing in the middle of the room. A little girl of perhaps three years of age was rummaging in a two box, talking to her stuffed animal companion that had a top hot and looked like a penguin.
Morgan studied his daughter in silence, longing on his face. He wanted so much to be the father she needed, but he was dead and nothing but greater powers could change that. She looked so much like his love, in the way she moved right down to how she carefully handled items that emerged from the toybox.
As he cleared his throat and she turned around, a most beautiful smile that was mother's, matched with a beauty that was his, stole his breath.
"Daddy!" Selena crashed into him with love and excitement.
Morgan's throat clenched in grief, that for the moment he was rendered speechless.
"See Mr. Waddle I tolds you! I tolds you he would come!" Selena exclaimed to her stuffed and silent companion. The girl giggled and looked adoringly at her father with same bright eyes of silver. "You come for me daddy?"
Morgan sighed softly and knelt down to embrace his daughter. "Not yet munchkin' you have to stay here a lil longer."
Selena sighed too against her father's strong hug, she understood, it meant her mother was not well yet. Instead of asking yet again 'how long' she instead asked, "come to play?"
"No," came her father's reply. At her pout, he smiled and caressed her chin. "Where did you learn to speak so well?"
Her frown transformed into a dazzling smile of accomplishment. "Untle Adan and Kail."
Morgan patted her fondly with a grin, hearing she still had trouble pronouncing Aidan's name. "That is very impressive, you are a fast learner!"
Selena beamed with pride that she had done well.
He stroked her silky black hair, fiddling with her white streak. "I have a surprise gift for you."
Selena's eager fidget and excited eyes made him laugh and once more he opened his pocket. The nimbus came forth and solidified with a happy smile.
Selena looked at her father with joy and smiled, whispering in his ear. "It looks like mommy but my size." When he nodded, she giggled and he kissed her forehead.
"This is your special playmate," he said. "Teach it hide and seek, keep it secret. As others might see it and want one too and they can't."
Selena nodded and scampered to tag her new playmate back.
Morgan watched the two for a moment whispering I love you as he vanished from the room, leaving a happy daughter behind.
Frowning deeply as he scried upon the scene temporarily, he dismissed the various "soft" emotions welling up within. Forcibly. The mirror was once again forgotten, at least for the moment. What his thoughts turned to now was the possibility that She would choose the Thayan's return to life over her grander, fated duty. That was always a possibility, and despite being a tragic romantic at times, one he could not fathom tolerating. Surely, She would be within her rights, and he could almost see himself as urging her to go down that road, whilst thinking back on the scene between Morgan and Selena that just played out.
But the duty was too great a one to shirk in such a way. The problem now was in finding a method to override the forces at work if she should decide to set duty aside. As it stood, the Thayan held far too much power at his command for any direct assault or means of force as intervention. There had to be a way to skirt around that, though the only possibility he'd come up with so far was not one he wished to delve into. Soul Reaver could perhaps serve to best that which currently resides within the Thayan's unliving form, but at what price?
And even if he did take the Thayan out of the equation, what of Her? Killing her or harming her would not be the answer, if it were even possible.
"Bah, by all the damnable Hells and Heavens alike, why must everything so convoluted. Too many variables, with more forces set against the Queen than with her. Sad that I find my thoughts turning against her now, as well...."
Muttering his thoughts aloud, he does his best to push the doubts and queries aside while meandering towards the desk once more. Perhaps a bottle of that specially crafted liquid could serve to stave off such things completely for a while. It had been a very long time since he'd been able to fall into the blissful slumber that only certain tasty poisons could provide.
"She'll make the right decision, boyo...." Staring at the bottle, he decided to keep it stoppered. Though he was having doubts, such methods would not help him convince himself any better of his latest muttering. That he did not know which decision was truly the 'right' one didn't help any. Looking back to the mirror for a moment, he wondered if perhaps there may be a method of finding out some answers.
"Only one way to find out, as they say...." Setting the bottle absently back into its roost, he moved around to position himself in front of the mirror once more, letting his thoughts drift where they would whilst gazing at its reflective surface.
"Hey baldy, yer still ugly, no need to stare into that mirror to confirm it."
He'd actually come through the door in a normal manner, hadn't so much as used a lick of magic to get in the room, but from the blank look on Cogliostro's face, the 'elder' male had no clue that he'd come in. Frowning thoughtfully whilst hefting his injured 'companion' into one of the plush chairs which sat in front of Cogliostro's desk, he was relieved to see the bald man blink and turn to face their direction. Something about that mirror wasn't right, and he still wasn't convinced that the Thayan wasn't up to something that would turn out to be painful and detrimental in more ways than one.
"Ya might wanna tell Morgan the Gay to rejoin us, as he may be interested to grill the old fart I brought along. Figuratively, not literally. Or perhaps it would be literally, since we're gonna be askin' questions and all, which means words will be involved, and words are literary, and all....
Whatever the case, summon the painted freak if'n ya want."
Still troubled by the fact that Cogliostro kept wanting to gaze back at the mirror, he swiftly reached ionto an ornate wooden box upon the desk and pulled out one of the expensive smokesticks contained therein, hefting it out and tossing it unerringly at the bald human, bonking it off his furrowed forehead. Crude methodology, but apparently effective all the same.
Noting the other human's scowl, and the fact that it got his full attention, he settled down into one of the other nearby chairs, stuffing a few more of the cigars into his pockets as he did so. Noting also the look of further annoyance upon Cogliostro's face, he arched a brow in the man's direction.
"What? Yer the 'body' with all the money, s'not like you can't afford to buy more, ya cheapskate prick...."
He let it trail off as he heard a garbled grunt issue from the grizzled old man he'd brought along, his attention, and that of his alternate self, Cogliostro, turning in that direction in tandem.
The mirror showed his queen as when he first met her, dressed in simple clothing. Looking more like a tidy innkeeper more than a leader of a trade guild. She smiled kindly and warmly at him and vanished abruptly as the cigar him him in the head.
As the two conversed, the lone figure with them known as the grey scourged grunted. His gruff voice sounding like a growling wolf, he almost looked like one too for all the tufts of gray and white covering him. "That's a lesser Energy Gate or I'm a virgin maiden. Question is how did an outlander like you get one? There are only two."
Neither man could get a reply in before Morgan winked into the room. "That should be the least of your worries, but if there is one other, that explains how your 'companions' are traveling abroad."
"That one is cursed," the scourge spat on the floor.
"So is the other one, you 'Messiah' has just averted the effects by bending his entire will, to make it safe to travel while giving bits of his mind to the poor souls trapped in the mirror. Truly noble, but dangerous."
"How do you kn--" the burly man was cut off without a care, as Morgan continued. "Make no mistake wolf man, your messiah is loosing himself bit by bit, all for a cause that you all believe will make the multiverse better."
The scourge grinned in more tooth than smile, "and you think you can restore the One, even got one of 'us' on your side and a few medallions. Well you're too late! The siege has begun and in a few hours, that husk of a body will be torn to shreds, resting all hopes anyone has of righting the situation! Soon, even this world will be affected, all will!
Morgan looked at him coldly and replied in blandness, "The Guardian has been recently released from his duties, so yes the after effects of his shield will shatter in a few hours." He sighed, refusing to look at the other two men in the room.
"We have won," the grey scourge said triumphantly.
"Not yet," Morgan corrected, "you have another ace in your corner, but you are counting your chickens before they hatch."
"Bah! You just don't know you've lost, or wish to to face it!" He lets out a loud heart laugh as Morgan fades into nothingness without further comment.
The laughter boomed off the walls and echoed as Morgan appeared at the ruins, to watch the massacre begin and asked the guidance of the one who chose him to keep him from intervening.
Roughly three hours had passed since Morgan left the Grey Scourge with Cogliostro. Had spent two of those hours, pacing the top of what once was a cathedral. It was now sunk a third of the way, into the ground. The other hour was spent perched there overlooking the ruined in, watching the masses of undead surround the cubic aura of his woman. He watched coldly as they pounded the shield and was slowly succeeding in banishing it. Anger was what drove him, but love made him stay his spot.
Almost a year had passed, and now it had come to this. He was aware of Darius doing on their home world, and would have quipped about him sleeping with Red, if this had not weighed so heavy on his mind.
Now, there remained an hour or less before the body sheltered within, would be lost, and the enemy had won round one and two. Silver eyes calculated and waited. Hoping the boy had sense not to come and watch. Selena would be oblivious with her new playmate and hope, While Aidan was now in dreamless sleep, he would awaken when this passed. Darius however was not just a mere immortal anymore and with him having to concentrate on his own self will, not to act...well he was on his own. The shrieking cries above, in the skies, only added to the bleak atmosphere.
"Thayan! You know I can't damn well get here so easily on my own...." Finally having found suitable conditions for passage, after
several failed -- or rather, botched in one way or another -- attempts, he slid through the small tear in reality and emerged near the brooding, pacing figure known to him as Morgan, a deep scowl set onto his face and the words which had emerged being more akin to an animalistic roar than anything else.
Straightening himself, absently smoothing out the folds of his maroon hued robe, he paused for a bit to take in the entirety of the scene, the scowl replaced with a heavy frown. Even blessed with divinity as he was the sheer amount of raging undead and souls gathered within the area caused a chill to creep inadvertently up and down his spine. The damnable beast flying overhead did not help matters any. Thus far, he'd been able to quash any real emotions of rage over what was about to occur, the reasoning part of his mind finding ample excuses not to intervene, but he knew it would not be the case if any of his other, 'truer' Avatars came upon the scene. With a calmer demeanor and tone, he turned to address Morgan once again. "Perhaps it will be over by the time one of my other selves is able to breach through. I'd hate to see one of my bodies decimated in a futile attempt to save her shell." That it was a selfish notion went without saying, and perhaps realizing it, he changed focus a bit. "I see you are faring well enough, under the circumstances. From a control perspective, that is. And I'm sure you are already aware that there is no need for you to watch. So why put yourself through this? It will do nothing for her, and you don't owe it to anyone to be here. As you said before, its only a shell now. Heed your own words, and save yourself some pain. Its a strong emotion, to be sure, but far too negative".
Morgan let out a bitter chuckle, "spoken like a true villain, but you are wrong. YOU are the one that need not watch. I do. The demon is their next target; I'm here to ensure that it won't be. You forget the demon is Shyne, her rage, her need for destruction, another fell safe to fulfill her duty. The rage part of her is in it. Haven't you felt it? I cannot let them take it or the demon to slay it or use it, it cannot be. If so Soul Reaver has nothing in its way except my daughter, which is too high a risk. She is the key to bring her mother back and restoring what has been lost. The demon is the part of her that let her Master Soul Reaver. It needs protection now. You however are useless here. Go back and Baby-sit like a good little brat or perhaps bed more pretty women. You still have a chance to do right, and you can live your life. You never owed her anything. Go back, there is nothing at all for you here..." He sat then, looking at him. His eyes bright with malice from the Vlad of old, his beautiful features, mocking him, intending to wound for nothing more than because he wanted to.
The hateful glare was returned, but not for the same reasons, obviously. Then his oak-brown orbs shifted to the demonic creature, a studious bent held within, alongside the anger. "Keep flustering and berating if it makes you feel better. I do have a purpose here, even aside from simple academic curiosity." His gaze then fell back upon the seated Thayan. "And what of this talk of 'right'? I'm sure you damn well know what has transpired, and that I've chosen to turn away from right and step full fold into righteousness, all to better serve my own causes. Perhaps my other ego will have some use for the semantics of right and wrong, but I no longer do."
Frowning once more, thoughtfully, he turned back to look upon the demon again. "And if that has been a part we've needed to retrieve all along, why did you not contain it and move it elsewhere as of yet?"
A smile curved Morgan's lips. "It's a good thing she's gone then. Such a monster you are now. Hurt her little heart it would, to know you just came here to study. Well enjoy the show, for it's about to begin.
For all your divinity you do not remember much do you? Yana put stay spells on it, her and Aidan. If I tamper with that, the backlash could kill Aidan or sever his link permanently with his sister. What purpose would he have then...or do you care?" He looked up to survey the black demon in its endless flight of circles, his eyes as bleak as iron.
"The loss of Aidan, in either capacity, would be acceptable. What matters is restoring her. It would be a price he'd gladly pay, I'm sure. Better that she should rise again and have to find a new guardian than have him here and now serving no purpose with nothing to guard." He paused a moment, and added in, a bit icily. "And I didn't come here only to study, dimwit. But neither will I pass this opportunity up from such a standpoint."
"Again your stupid and ignorant brain knows no bounds. Let me enlighten you oh grand evil one. It is not acceptable, if he were here now he'd tell you the same thing. If he dies now, she will not return the same. Aidan and her life strands are intertwined. Half of her would be missing, unwholesome and unclean. With Yana's capacity for kindness and love...do you honestly think that she could cope with what she is without him? Did you honestly let yourself believe Aidan's one duty was to guard her? No his true purpose is to keep her stabilized so she can be a proper host. He's just as much a host as she is. His capacity for no emotion is what keeps her focused and Death to use him when hers get in the way. In truth, neither is aware of it. But it is death that commands him."
"Bah...and do you honestly believe she will come back the same? No one could go through something like this and ever be the same. For all of our efforts to put the pieces back into their proper place, it will matter little. Perhaps you are correct, and Aidan was an integral part of the stabilization -- part of her. But that is a crutch, and one she'll have to overcome. Mayhap that is to be part of this 'process', for all we know. Sooner or later she would have to do without him anyway. Perhaps if you'd been a stronger man, she could have realized that earlier in life, and shown her that the crutch can be replaced when broken." True enough, part of it was nothing but a jab at the man, but other aspects could be true enough in theory. The truth was neither of them had obvious answers, and the debates could rage on and on. That he was no longer thinking as he used to was not helping their 'conversation' any.
"Then end his existence, if you feel, he has no part in this, but best check yourself before you say one life is better off dead then your own self my dear boy. Since you are a one man army now, you save her or better yet, are a true villain and ignore the situation, all the gods, even Mystra. It has not affected them, so why bother right? As it stands, by right you are now her enemy...all the gods are, just some accept that nothing can last forever before it is renewed, remade and reborn. Ignore her, she does not matter, for in truth Death could get out, death could choose another host. It'll take lots of time and effort, and you being divine and such, will live to see the wrongs righted without ever having done a thing except sit idle. She's not your lover or friend after all. So she was kind to you, there is no need to do anything. You're not what you were before. Again why bother? You're just studying. So there is no real need for conversation either. Your other self will eventually become the recessive side after awhile; there will be no good in you left. When that day happens you can bet I'll be there with you, laughing."
No barbs now, just point blank honesty and another truth. "The monsters here are us, boy. Those lost souls down there, just want rest. The enemy wanted a better utopia, is that evil? Not truly. But oh well, you can be the one to tell Selena what happened to her mother. What will happen? I've already tried, but you, oh my yes, you have it in you now to destroy innocence or let her keep it. As her parent I have failed, but you are now her guardian, that is all she has, for that is all she knows. So yes, be uncaring. She is the true crutch. She believes everything will be fine. Truth leaves us bear and unable to hide. So why should she be sheltered?" He wasn't expecting an answer, nor was he pressing buttons, not even playing games. He merely was stating a truth.
"You...are...wrong...Thayan. I will...not...become...recessive!" The words were full of anger, both at the Thayan, and at the truths inside, broken apart by the fact he was shifting forms in the process, lowering in height and broadening of muscle. Pausing to shake his head and assert the transformation, he then turned a steely blue gaze out upon the carnage, his voice different now as well, tinged with certain sadness. "And no, even if I should let that happen, you would not be there to laugh. You are dead, and will be laid to rest once again when this is all over." There was no pushing of buttons or any sense of it being a barb when he spoke, and he turned to regard Morgan before continuing. "It doesn't have to be that way, but I can understand that you would choose it to be so, to a degree." Rubbing one hand over his face in a weary manner, he looked upon the ruined Inn once more. "And it is not my place to teach Selena the lessons of life, for as you've stated, I am not Yana's lover, nor am I Selena's parent. You, however, are here, now, and have the opportunity to pass on what you will to her. Despite all the bad happening right now, there is the opportunity for you to make the most of it while here. Take it up. She will feel loss when it is over, but she will also come out the richer for it."
"Evil has many faces, who is to say you will not become me later on boy? It is your place now, I cannot influence her now for that would impede on her decisions later she must make on her own." He shrugs. "My final gift to her was that piece of her mother, so she doesn't forget happiness in the events to come. My mission is to detain Soul Reaver, after that is up to her and who chooses to go with her."
"I am more of a failure in the fatherly aspect than you, so I'd say we should both pray someone better comes along." His face contorts with effort, a visible struggle within evident to any present.
"And no, I daresay I will not...become...you." As swiftly as before, the transformation took place, the skin darkening once more, unruly blonde locks replaced by a clean shaven, tattooed crown. "Straying away from the light is a necessity, pure and simple. I left a vacuum in the pantheon, and as such is my place to fill it. The power I gained...the power I count on to help me fight the good fight, comes only from the behest of my evil servitors. Should I not fulfill their desires, grant them the further capacity to commit more and more atrocities, I would lose too much, become naught much more than the mortal I once was. And despite what you may think--Hells, even what I think at times--I do this not out of purely selfish reasons, but...for...." Again there is a battle of wills, and the blonde counterpart comes out on top, the body shifting to fit the presence in swift fashion. "...Her. Without the extra resources I have at my disposal right now, our quest could take decades, or even centuries longer. Whatever you may think, she was--is-- my friend and I help because I care about her, not because of what she holds inside. You've already admitted that Death could find another host. But that means little when considering we cannot find another Yana."
Before he could reply or retort, a sound loud and tearing like torn silk split the air, coupled with an earth shattering shriek from the demon, as the undead tore a hole in the shield. Their clawing becoming more desperate now as their long awaited prey was in reach. Morgan darted a glance at him and managed strained speech. 'I see your time with her was not so futile. She has taught you at least a few things. Just remember that it's okay to change, but do forget who you were before it. Deny that or quash it and you'll mutate to where no one, not even yourself, will remember who you are."
Nodding once quickly in response, knowing that the hour was upon them, he cracked his neck and started to stride forward. "That in mind, it is blindly and stupidly into the fray I shall go, for that is what heroes do. True enough cannot stop them all, but it'll feel a damn sight better to fight back than sit id---irk!" Coughing up a mouthful of blood, he gazes slowly down at his abdomen to note the gore-slicked blade protruding from it, eyes wide with surprise and perhaps in a portrayal of pain.
"Idiot. Do you really think I'd allow you to wade out there and be destroyed? Wasn't it you who just yammered on about the need for our unique 'resources'? Yet you willingly would lay one to waste in a futile act such as this? I'll have no part of it, and neither will you." To add a bit of emphasis, he twists the blade and yanks it out painfully, his oak-brown orbs blazing with silvery blue light as he prepares a protective incantation, in the event that Avatar would soon face off against Avatar, a single bead of sweat pouring from his clean shaven temple, perhaps out of anticipation. And perhaps out of the inner struggle that was surely present as Ego faced off against Ego.
"You should have let him; it would've been fun to see a hero die again. Honestly it tickles me to watch good guys trollop around and die because of their purpose. Besides if you all die, well you get my woman." He flashed a sick grin, sweating himself as he was locked rigid, sitting there as the demon swooped shattering the shield on impact, but had no time to revel in it, as the stay spells on it forced it back into flight. The bowled over undead got trampled as waves upon waves of their comrades raced to snatch the small sleeping body of one woman, and within moments, bones were cracking, tendons tearing as watery blood gushed forth. And the woman who was queen of the realm was torn limb from limb, in pure heated frenzy. Nothing was spared, the scraps of her night clothes and even her tiny scraps of flesh were being fought over like ravenous wolves.
"Nooooo!" That it came out as an emotion filled roar would be an understatement, the very mental backlash of it sending the Cogliostro guised Avatar spiraling through the air, any spells and chance of a fight obviously broken by the raw intensity of the true self's anguish. It was too late to do anything at all, it happened so swiftly, and tears ran unbidden down his cheeks. Perhaps Morgan was able to steel him completely, but he was not. Neither could he keep from being overwhelmed by first the rage which the tide of undead was unleashing, then by the frustration as realization slowly dawned on them that tearing the body apart was doing nothing for their condition. With those emotions brought to the fore of his being, he concentrated his will and called on the divinity within to surround himself with pure positive energy, leaping headlong into the fray with complete abandon, intent on doing as much harm as he could. That some of those souls were innocents in their own way mattered little right now. They had to pay, one way or another. "Get that godsbedamned demon already, Thayan." That was the extent of his talk before disappearing within the veritable cloud of undead, the energies about him snuffing scores of them from existence at a time, sending them to true oblivion, rays of the same energy momentarily clearing him a path towards her final resting place, only to be replaced in the next heartbeat by another flood of souls.
Morgan would have groaned had he gotten the chance, but now was not the time to stall. Higher powers knew the rash man, Darius could be useful, as such they pulled a nasty trick out of their bag, or perhaps a kindness, something he needed, time abruptly stopped, everything even the demon was stilled, his powers ceased, yet he could still move. Could see Morgan was no where in sight and the undead had bits of her on their mouths and fingers. He could kill at his leisure, but not with his powers, there was something more powerful than him at work, overriding him like once before.
Falling abruptly to his hands and knees, having been more or less flying through their ranks, it took him a moment to gaze around and ascertain all that was occurring, or wasn't occurring, as the case may be. "No! You've no right! They are not innocent! Each came of its own accord and intended to make her pay the price for their Eternal Rest, so they were in the wrong!" Leaping up, he lunged out and grabbed one of the still souls, drawing his arm back as if he intended to strike them down by hand, each in turn. Then he stopped, and really looked at it, the woman's face fraught with not only anger, but confusion. Perhaps the drive was not their own, after all. Emitting a guttural roar, he looked around, seeing much the same upon each stilled individual. Shoulders suddenly slumping, he looked to the bier where her body had lain. "Why draw them all here if it meant nothing? Why tear apart the shell with no cause? Surely if you have the power to stop them now, and strip my powers from me, you could have stopped any of this from happening, instilled in them another drive altogether." Spinning about, taking it all in once more, he could do little to hide his own frustration and sadness. "There was no need!"
A shadow came across his vision; someone knelt down and sat there amidst the crowd. A gentle touch caressed the flesh of his hand, patting it fondly. If he looked, it was Aiyana, with her ready sweet smile, the witty yet kind swirling eyes that could hypnotize you. Her plain brown hair was swept up in its neat little bun, her long white streaks, framing her creamy complexion. Her clothes were plain unadorned study wool, dyed light green, to bring out the green in her hazel. No response was given, but it even smiled like her, and today the smell was honeysuckle.
Perhaps it was her, perhaps not. But whatever the truth, right now he needed to grasp onto the 'reality' of it. Dropping suddenly to his knees, directly in front of her, tears still streaming silently down his face, he reached out with both hands and gently clasped them onto her cheeks, desperate to cling on in some small way, a smile struggling to come to life on his face. "Aiyana...?"
"You've been drinking too much brandy again, haven't you?" came her clear melodic voice that was rich and warm with varying tones and lilting, that so often calmed anything and anyone. She scooted to him more, never mind dirtying her dress, she kissed his hands, each of them on the palm and reached to kiss his forehead with her pale pink lips, wrapping her slight arms around his head and neck to cradle him to her small, well covered but well rounded bosom.
"Just relax; I'm here now the bad part is over. I know it hurts, that's why I'm here. So go ahead and grieve, its fine, no one is here but me and you and you know I'll never tell."
And for a comforted moment, thats exactly what he did, letting the sobs come out fully. Then with a deep sniffle, he tried to compose himself a bit, and stopped thinking about his own welfare, not wanting to leave her arms completely, so he only pulled away enough so that he could bring his head up and face her, still clinging onto her. This time he did manage to smile, rather warmly. "I miss you--we miss you--, so very much. But it is you who endures the worst of it, milady. Were that it possible I could comfort you, know that I would, with every fiber of my being. I just don't know how...don't understand it all...so confusing...come back to us...." The last part started to trail off, as words began to fail him, emotion choking up his ability to speak as well.
She smiled charmingly, her rare beautiful smile that she made her glow. Ruffling his hair affectionately she giggled in her cute girlish way, she replied, "I miss you too. Miss all of you. But I'm lost and I cannot find my way back. You'll show me the way won't you. You'll find me, you always do...you're my bodyguard right?" She winked at him, sly and quick, the way she always did when she knew she was deliberately boosting his ego.
He let something escape his lips that were a mixture of laughter and a sob, after which one of his own trademark grins erupted on his face. "Not to hear you say it, I'm not." He was speaking about the bodyguard part, and he knew that it did not need explained. Then the grin faded, and the warm, yet sad smile fell back into place, though a determined seriousness lay within his blue-grey orbs.
"Yes, we will find you. By all that's holy or unhallowed, I swear this. Even should all the others falter in the task, I will not. This I swear." Knowing this small reprieve would end soon, he let one hand drop, but gently caressed her cheek with the other, taking in every minute feature, and breathing in her scent, clinging to it all more so than he'd ever done before, coming to many small realizations about the woman and keeping it near to heart. He fully intended to carry out his word, and bring back this, his most endeared friend. There was so much more to say and perhaps do, but it could wait.
"Good," she planted a soft kiss on his nose, and then kissed his hand, jumping up to her feet, and tugging him up, or trying to anyway, straightening at his clothes. "Now get out there, and be my hero. Don't forget to impress me, I'll be watching and waiting." She grinned devilishly then, like she knew something he didn't, but waving at him with tiny hand.
Rising slowly, he cocked his head to the side a bit, questioningly, as he caught that devilish grin. Briefly, he returned one of his own in her direction, taking one last, perhaps longing look in her direction, before offering a small bow of parting to her, knowing that reality would come crashing back down upon him by the time he looked up. And that she would be gone.
"Hurry up you ninny nicker. The faster you get going the faster I'll fix you pancakes when we get back. That's a promise." With that last word, a gentle wind the scent of her carried him to the cathedral out of harms way. As soon as his foot touched the surface, the effect shed away like autumn into winter, slowly but once done, chaos resumed untouched and not bothered. All traces of Aiyana were now cast on the winds. Morgan was long gone and now the undead were roaming again in moaning torment.
"I'll hold you to it...." He whispered in response, even as reality reasserted itself. For some long moments he gazed upon the scene, though not really looking at it, his mind still reflecting upon Aiyana. Then the sound of a boot scuffling nearby made him turn and snap out of it, a frown settling into place as he realized who it was, the maroon robe being enough to make the determination. Swiftly he scanned around for the Thayan, and saw no sign of him. Intrinsically linked to his other Ego, despite their differences, he knew what the larger man intended to do without it being spoken. "Go ahead, it cannot hurt, and I have the feeling they would continue to search for her. Rather, any aspect of her. This will contain at least a large portion of them for the time being, and cause no further harm to them. As for me, I have a young lady to take care of...." That in mind, he concentrated on slipping through the folds of time and space, finding it quite easy to do this time, perhaps because of some higher power giving him a boost, or perhaps something else altogether.
"Perhaps I will put some of them to use then, use them to track her various aspects down, but no need for all of them." Speaking to himself now, he hopped off the wall, cradling a small sphere of cloudy darkness in his hands, and began to wade out into the continued chaos. Perhaps he could make some use of that Shadow Orb he'd appropriated some time back after all.
No the higher power had done its job, the form of Aiyana melted away into Morgan, as he stepped through a portal, intending to track down a brat and a very large Scythe. No one saw him leave. As for the demon. Cogliostro would find it perched atop where Aiyana was laying. Calmed now, but still radiating pure malice and destructive intent. Only now its depthless eyes showed clarity. Nothing would ensnare it now, and if destruction of it is what was sought, any would find themselves sadly mistaken. For it was waiting for that precise moment to strike. As for the essence of Aiyana it held. Oh it was there still and staring at him too, waiting to be unleashed, that rage she bottled up, wanted release, but now was not the time to collect it yet, be too dangerous too, but he at least knew the creature was the aspects best protection. And so another piece was in their corner.
Making a lengthy assessment of the demon, he felt content to leave it as is, and set about with his other purpose. All but ignoring any errant undead that may choose to assault him, he set the orb a small ways away from the inn, and worked his will towards enabling it. The task was a difficult one, as he was of the Weave, and it was of the Shadow, but in a few moments it began to grow, and emit a plume of smoke. Satisfied that it would continue its job of its own accord, and that soon enough the largest portion of the undead would be drawn within its confines, he turned and began to stride purposefully towards the ruined cathedral. "Now, perhaps it is time that the winged brat and that damnable scythe are finally dealt with." Perhaps it was pure happenstance, or perhaps Morgan left some subconscious signal that he intended to do the same. In any event, he continued onward, willing himself back to the inn.
This is the first 11 posts out of 33 ORIGINAL POSTS of the Endeavors thread 12-33 are permanantly lost but if anyone manages to find them notify me immediately!
This is compiled so it will be a VERY long post! This thread goes in conjunction with Altruistic Endeavors
Elsewhere, on another plane, perhaps another world to some...
Storms continued to rage upon the ruins. The once green and fertile land was now sodden and filled with rubble. As lightning streaked the sky, a beastial form roared as it flew above a building that used to be an inn once. A pair of orange eyes looked up to gaze upon the creature, but didn't remain there long. The swirling hues of orange, purple and green, regained their sights on the one in the invisible field in front of him. A woman was within, one that looked to be sleeping but her chest did not rise or fall. A smirk twitched his pale green lips. The body within was a useless husk but if her pitful band of hero's wanted to believe that it had a purpose then it gave him glee to know they were headed for failure.
He touched the field just to feel the jolt of pain in his fingertips. He snickered, he loved pain, it awakened the senses. The Guardian knew he toyed with the field, he nor the Guardian feared each other. In that regard Sizuril had to admire the man this woman had bonded. He had plenty of skill and admiration was given to scant few. He blinked slowly as he turned to look at the Undead surrounding him and the Lady. They no longer battered at her shield. He had them all at bay, standing still and motionless, in rapture of their torment.
Soon, very soon she would be gone and the multiverse would be remade anew. A multiverse without death...His and his masters race would have a new purpose, to be rulers instead of destroyers. Just a little more time and this woman would be gone forever. A pity though, she was rather pretty despite being rather short.
Movement from behind him caught his attention, brushing back silvery hair, Sizuril turned to regard his companions. He grinned, the Grey Scourge was motionless but his grizzled face was ablaze with rage. Oh well not his fault the fool was killed by a traitorous runaway.
No one said a word, nods were made but not a word was spoken as he and companions opened a portal to leave to begin phase two of their plans. As the portal winked out, the masses of undead were released to resume their relentless pounding of the shield...Scourge however was stranded there with no way to return. Unlike the other restless souls, he began plotting revenge.
Perhaps to get back at all those that had abanded him, his clan, his new home and companions, was to befriend the enemy. He had scouted this area many times but not many passed here. The bard disappeared, but the blonde man kept returning. Maybe they could talk..maybe....
For several long moments his twin orbs of bluish-grey hue gazed contemplatively at the spot where Sizuril and his lackeys had exited through the portal, the tattered folds of his faded grey cloak whipping about wildly, both from the furious gusts of rain-laden wind and the throngs of frenzied undead which permeated the area. By and large, he ignored--and in turn was ignored by--the restless dead, the latter being attributed in equal part to the power he himself wielded, and the fact that they were far more concerned with the woman who lay dormant in the upper reaches of the ruins. He too was concerned with the female in question, but for vastly different reasons. The arrival of Sizuril had served to perhaps answer one of the many questions which lay before him and his erstwhile companions, the Queen's champions, but at the same time it raised thrice as many questions in return. Not exactly the odds he had been hoping for.
Stowing such thoughts in an empty recess of his mind for the moment, he then spun about, intent on the true reason he had come to this newfound wasteland on this particular occasion. A silent, unconscious call had been issued forth from amongst the maelstrom, and now was the time to attend its originator. Soft, yet determined footfalls carried him steadily through the harsh environs, towards the battered, bleeding, and beaten form of the man the others had mentally referred to as the Grey Scourge. A pause was taken before he knelt down to speak with the grizzled and bloodied veteran, a thoughtful gaze taking in the fact that this one deserved no small amount of credit for waylaying the desire to join the current flocks of spirits and wraiths in futilely attacking the shielded female above.
"Then again, rage and the desire for vengeance alone could give you will enough to resist the 'Call', I suppose." Reaching one leather-clad hand down without further ado, he hoisted the large, beaten male to his feet, keeping that hand securely on the man's bloodied tunic in order to hold the heavyset, aging warrior aloft. Without so much as allowing for the simplest of protests from the Scourge, his free hand waved absently to the side, a shimmering portal of blue, limned in silver, appearing in it's wake. "I hear, and acknowledge, your innermost desire. Answer my questions plainly, truthfully, and without reservation, and in return I will grant you power enough to enact your vengeance in ways you could only hope to imagine. Fail me, and, well, just rest assured that despite what you may believe, there are certainly worse tortures than those which you currently endure. First, we must retire to more hospitable surroundings...." Allowing for one final, longing gaze to fall upon the general location of the inn's ruins, the second floor in particular, he then spun to enter the portal, dragging the Scourge in his wake.
While the blonde man hefted the larger man over his shoulder and left the area. A short slender man with a painted face observed all that had transpired.
Things were not going well, but he did not expect them to. He was waiting for those behind this madness to make a major move. He could do nothing directly of course but he could point people in the right direction, just not by force.
He sighed as he looked longingly at the woman who had made his life so different yet happy years ago..He did not know how she would be once restored. Her complete restoration was not certain but the powers of the multiverse was seelking to restore balance, that is what mattered. Sadness and anger bugged him that the woman locked within was nothing but a host and her personal self did not matter in the scheme of things. He had loved that woman, he loved all of her. Accepted the things she did, what she was, what she had to do, but he loved HER, not the power within.
Before despair settled in that he would loose her forever, a flicker of golden light was near the inn's ruins. The light did not cause any alarm, but the wave of undead began scattering back AWAY from this light. It bounced and twirled. Curious he went to investigate.
Nearing the site, he was in surprise. Postive energy was dominating from this light, it came to him and stopped. He smiled at it and bid it to come with him. He opened a portal and beckoned it to follow. The light bounced wildly, it was the size of a child but it began to shrink. When it was the size of a adult sized fist, it bounded into his pocket and stayed there. Pulsating with warm joy against his heart.
The painted man stepped through the portal and stood within an office. Cogliostro's inner sanctum with a cheery smile on his face. As the portal closed, the masses of undead rushed to swarm the shield once more.
In a most weary fashion, his body slumped unceremoniously back into the comforting folds of the plush, leather-bound chair. A perplexed frown settled into place as oak-brown orbs continued to gaze at the reflective surface of the ornately crafted, full length mirror which stood some scant few feet from his desk. Several hours, stretched out over the past few tendays, had been spent contemplating this most simple seeming of objects. As with many things in the multiverse, however, appearances were indeed deceiving. Great power rested within the mirror...power which, thus far, had eluded his grasp.
The Thayan who had given him the item explained its purpose well enough, and even given a short demonstration of sorts, yet ever since the gaudy male who currently referred to himself as Morgan had parted company with himself and the mirror, the damnable thing had not functioned. Perhaps it has more sentience than had been suspected, and it knew well enough that it could not manipulate, trap, or otherwise overcome him, and became uncooperative out of spite.
"Bah, ye give too much credit to the damnable thing, old boyo...tis a simple scrying device, which I have not found the key to unlocking, that's all. I wouldn't put it past the confounded, effeminate Thayan to have handed it over just to aggravate me...." Musing quietly yet harshly to himself, his body tensed and gaze became more alert, shifting quickly to the side, as the proverbrial hairs on the back of his neck rose sharply in tune with the environ's alarms being set off and the many-layered wards being parted like butter before a hot knife. The frown devolved into a full-scale scowl as he peered toward the unknown silhouette taking form before his eyes, and it did not dissipate in the least when that figure's identity had been discerned. One could even say it deepened.
Sitting up quite abruptly now, leaning foward with elbows propped onto the smoothly crafted surface of his desk, he addressed the painted face of the almost feminine man of whom he'd just been meandering about with his thoughts, voice most dry of tone. "Speak of the devils, and who should appear but their erstwhile commander in chief...come to slap me around like a bitch some more? Or are you finally going to show me the key to using this damnable device you just so happened to leave laying about in the wake of your last visit?"
The small man known as Morgan simply smiled and stepped across the thresh hold waving away the image of a small brown haired woman with swirling colored eyes. The image disappeared and went back to being a mirror again.
"I told you, to look upon its surface, let it give you an image and you discern if it's a truth desire or lie, maybe a combination..." He trailed off a smile on his painted lips, I have brought you another 'gift,' but if you don't want it I'll give it to Cyrus," the look of the other man was enough reply for him, he stretched out his pocket and suddenly the warm was illuminated in a soft gold light and a cheery cozy feeling enveloped the surroundings immediately as a a figure, childlike in appearance, and height but bearing a resemblance to the Lady popped out.
It did a Lil jig in greeting and promptly poked Cogliostro's nose as "she" would have done with a familiar fondness both men could recognize. "I found it at the ruins, it's one of her personalities, take a guess at which one. I dunno how many more at left, but it's a start coupled with the Medallion's we've gathered." His silver eyes twinkled, "We have a chance, more than we ever did before.."
The little figure nodded and giggled, to which Morgan beamed, a sound he had not heard in three years, it sounded just like her. There was a moment of silence as he watched the figure start exploring.
Suddenly as the figure went passed the mirror, the surface flashed multi hued colors and a confused and screeching wail emitted from it. The tiny golden figure touched the surface and the mirror literally shuddered and a hiss was heard and then the surface become still and reflective again. It would seem the mirror, indeed had limits.
Both the figure and Morgan now peered at the bald mage, one looked happily at him as if proud to accomplish a good thing, the other had the expression of "Well" on it. "So shall I take it back or leave it here? The choice is yours..."
For some long moments, he offered no reply. Half in shock and awe, with curiousity portrayed as well by virtue of the single brow raised as he gazed upon the new 'gift', he could find no words to give a reply. True, he was forewarned of it ahead of time, and lectured on the semantics of it by the demonic 'bratmage' earlier in their quest, but all the same when he actually saw 'it' before his eyes he could not help but stare with wonderment and curiousity.
Finally turning away, he took a few more moments to contemplate an answer, and to regain his composure to his normal 'business-like' manner. At least in so much as being in present company would allow for. Turning a slight frown now to the Thayan, having decided he personally could not tolerate the 'chipper' female overly long, he resolved to place 'it' where it may do a bit of good.
"Leave it...erhm, her...with the child. Your child, that is. It may do her good. But then again, it may confuse her, so as the doting parent that you aren't, it is your choice in the end as to whether it be done or not. Barring that, we will be forced to let Cyrus to keep watch over 'it', as the bloody female would drive anyone else insane within a short time."
Letting the frown deepen, he looks over this newest gift a moment longer, quelling a pang of -- longing, perhaps? -- that the sight of her stirred up, then turns back to the mirror, perhaps having some needed answers now.
"In any event, leave the mirror here, I will give it another whirl. And perhaps just plain leave, as well. Too much of your womanly yet somehow almost masculine charms in one day makes my stomach churn, Thayan."
Morgan simply shrugged and opened his pocket awaiting the golden nimbus to come with him once more. He had caught the look of the other man's face. Jealousy aside, the painted man understood. With a nod and a wink.
The glowing nimbus skipped to Cogliostro and gave him a hug and then "she" waved and disappeared in sparkling light. The touch was familiar and friendly to Cogliostro, but before any emotion could form, the painted man was already gone.
Left to his own devices now, the mirror was constantly shifting images, as if displaying each emotion he felt. No image stayed on the surface long. If he were to do this it would be safer if he calmed himself no doubt.
Meanwhile, Morgan emerged, "melting" from the ceiling of Kail's bedroom, and formed solid and standing in the middle of the room. A little girl of perhaps three years of age was rummaging in a two box, talking to her stuffed animal companion that had a top hot and looked like a penguin.
Morgan studied his daughter in silence, longing on his face. He wanted so much to be the father she needed, but he was dead and nothing but greater powers could change that. She looked so much like his love, in the way she moved right down to how she carefully handled items that emerged from the toybox.
As he cleared his throat and she turned around, a most beautiful smile that was mother's, matched with a beauty that was his, stole his breath.
"Daddy!" Selena crashed into him with love and excitement.
Morgan's throat clenched in grief, that for the moment he was rendered speechless.
"See Mr. Waddle I tolds you! I tolds you he would come!" Selena exclaimed to her stuffed and silent companion. The girl giggled and looked adoringly at her father with same bright eyes of silver. "You come for me daddy?"
Morgan sighed softly and knelt down to embrace his daughter. "Not yet munchkin' you have to stay here a lil longer."
Selena sighed too against her father's strong hug, she understood, it meant her mother was not well yet. Instead of asking yet again 'how long' she instead asked, "come to play?"
"No," came her father's reply. At her pout, he smiled and caressed her chin. "Where did you learn to speak so well?"
Her frown transformed into a dazzling smile of accomplishment. "Untle Adan and Kail."
Morgan patted her fondly with a grin, hearing she still had trouble pronouncing Aidan's name. "That is very impressive, you are a fast learner!"
Selena beamed with pride that she had done well.
He stroked her silky black hair, fiddling with her white streak. "I have a surprise gift for you."
Selena's eager fidget and excited eyes made him laugh and once more he opened his pocket. The nimbus came forth and solidified with a happy smile.
Selena looked at her father with joy and smiled, whispering in his ear. "It looks like mommy but my size." When he nodded, she giggled and he kissed her forehead.
"This is your special playmate," he said. "Teach it hide and seek, keep it secret. As others might see it and want one too and they can't."
Selena nodded and scampered to tag her new playmate back.
Morgan watched the two for a moment whispering I love you as he vanished from the room, leaving a happy daughter behind.
Frowning deeply as he scried upon the scene temporarily, he dismissed the various "soft" emotions welling up within. Forcibly. The mirror was once again forgotten, at least for the moment. What his thoughts turned to now was the possibility that She would choose the Thayan's return to life over her grander, fated duty. That was always a possibility, and despite being a tragic romantic at times, one he could not fathom tolerating. Surely, She would be within her rights, and he could almost see himself as urging her to go down that road, whilst thinking back on the scene between Morgan and Selena that just played out.
But the duty was too great a one to shirk in such a way. The problem now was in finding a method to override the forces at work if she should decide to set duty aside. As it stood, the Thayan held far too much power at his command for any direct assault or means of force as intervention. There had to be a way to skirt around that, though the only possibility he'd come up with so far was not one he wished to delve into. Soul Reaver could perhaps serve to best that which currently resides within the Thayan's unliving form, but at what price?
And even if he did take the Thayan out of the equation, what of Her? Killing her or harming her would not be the answer, if it were even possible.
"Bah, by all the damnable Hells and Heavens alike, why must everything so convoluted. Too many variables, with more forces set against the Queen than with her. Sad that I find my thoughts turning against her now, as well...."
Muttering his thoughts aloud, he does his best to push the doubts and queries aside while meandering towards the desk once more. Perhaps a bottle of that specially crafted liquid could serve to stave off such things completely for a while. It had been a very long time since he'd been able to fall into the blissful slumber that only certain tasty poisons could provide.
"She'll make the right decision, boyo...." Staring at the bottle, he decided to keep it stoppered. Though he was having doubts, such methods would not help him convince himself any better of his latest muttering. That he did not know which decision was truly the 'right' one didn't help any. Looking back to the mirror for a moment, he wondered if perhaps there may be a method of finding out some answers.
"Only one way to find out, as they say...." Setting the bottle absently back into its roost, he moved around to position himself in front of the mirror once more, letting his thoughts drift where they would whilst gazing at its reflective surface.
"Hey baldy, yer still ugly, no need to stare into that mirror to confirm it."
He'd actually come through the door in a normal manner, hadn't so much as used a lick of magic to get in the room, but from the blank look on Cogliostro's face, the 'elder' male had no clue that he'd come in. Frowning thoughtfully whilst hefting his injured 'companion' into one of the plush chairs which sat in front of Cogliostro's desk, he was relieved to see the bald man blink and turn to face their direction. Something about that mirror wasn't right, and he still wasn't convinced that the Thayan wasn't up to something that would turn out to be painful and detrimental in more ways than one.
"Ya might wanna tell Morgan the Gay to rejoin us, as he may be interested to grill the old fart I brought along. Figuratively, not literally. Or perhaps it would be literally, since we're gonna be askin' questions and all, which means words will be involved, and words are literary, and all....
Whatever the case, summon the painted freak if'n ya want."
Still troubled by the fact that Cogliostro kept wanting to gaze back at the mirror, he swiftly reached ionto an ornate wooden box upon the desk and pulled out one of the expensive smokesticks contained therein, hefting it out and tossing it unerringly at the bald human, bonking it off his furrowed forehead. Crude methodology, but apparently effective all the same.
Noting the other human's scowl, and the fact that it got his full attention, he settled down into one of the other nearby chairs, stuffing a few more of the cigars into his pockets as he did so. Noting also the look of further annoyance upon Cogliostro's face, he arched a brow in the man's direction.
"What? Yer the 'body' with all the money, s'not like you can't afford to buy more, ya cheapskate prick...."
He let it trail off as he heard a garbled grunt issue from the grizzled old man he'd brought along, his attention, and that of his alternate self, Cogliostro, turning in that direction in tandem.
The mirror showed his queen as when he first met her, dressed in simple clothing. Looking more like a tidy innkeeper more than a leader of a trade guild. She smiled kindly and warmly at him and vanished abruptly as the cigar him him in the head.
As the two conversed, the lone figure with them known as the grey scourged grunted. His gruff voice sounding like a growling wolf, he almost looked like one too for all the tufts of gray and white covering him. "That's a lesser Energy Gate or I'm a virgin maiden. Question is how did an outlander like you get one? There are only two."
Neither man could get a reply in before Morgan winked into the room. "That should be the least of your worries, but if there is one other, that explains how your 'companions' are traveling abroad."
"That one is cursed," the scourge spat on the floor.
"So is the other one, you 'Messiah' has just averted the effects by bending his entire will, to make it safe to travel while giving bits of his mind to the poor souls trapped in the mirror. Truly noble, but dangerous."
"How do you kn--" the burly man was cut off without a care, as Morgan continued. "Make no mistake wolf man, your messiah is loosing himself bit by bit, all for a cause that you all believe will make the multiverse better."
The scourge grinned in more tooth than smile, "and you think you can restore the One, even got one of 'us' on your side and a few medallions. Well you're too late! The siege has begun and in a few hours, that husk of a body will be torn to shreds, resting all hopes anyone has of righting the situation! Soon, even this world will be affected, all will!
Morgan looked at him coldly and replied in blandness, "The Guardian has been recently released from his duties, so yes the after effects of his shield will shatter in a few hours." He sighed, refusing to look at the other two men in the room.
"We have won," the grey scourge said triumphantly.
"Not yet," Morgan corrected, "you have another ace in your corner, but you are counting your chickens before they hatch."
"Bah! You just don't know you've lost, or wish to to face it!" He lets out a loud heart laugh as Morgan fades into nothingness without further comment.
The laughter boomed off the walls and echoed as Morgan appeared at the ruins, to watch the massacre begin and asked the guidance of the one who chose him to keep him from intervening.
Roughly three hours had passed since Morgan left the Grey Scourge with Cogliostro. Had spent two of those hours, pacing the top of what once was a cathedral. It was now sunk a third of the way, into the ground. The other hour was spent perched there overlooking the ruined in, watching the masses of undead surround the cubic aura of his woman. He watched coldly as they pounded the shield and was slowly succeeding in banishing it. Anger was what drove him, but love made him stay his spot.
Almost a year had passed, and now it had come to this. He was aware of Darius doing on their home world, and would have quipped about him sleeping with Red, if this had not weighed so heavy on his mind.
Now, there remained an hour or less before the body sheltered within, would be lost, and the enemy had won round one and two. Silver eyes calculated and waited. Hoping the boy had sense not to come and watch. Selena would be oblivious with her new playmate and hope, While Aidan was now in dreamless sleep, he would awaken when this passed. Darius however was not just a mere immortal anymore and with him having to concentrate on his own self will, not to act...well he was on his own. The shrieking cries above, in the skies, only added to the bleak atmosphere.
"Thayan! You know I can't damn well get here so easily on my own...." Finally having found suitable conditions for passage, after
several failed -- or rather, botched in one way or another -- attempts, he slid through the small tear in reality and emerged near the brooding, pacing figure known to him as Morgan, a deep scowl set onto his face and the words which had emerged being more akin to an animalistic roar than anything else.
Straightening himself, absently smoothing out the folds of his maroon hued robe, he paused for a bit to take in the entirety of the scene, the scowl replaced with a heavy frown. Even blessed with divinity as he was the sheer amount of raging undead and souls gathered within the area caused a chill to creep inadvertently up and down his spine. The damnable beast flying overhead did not help matters any. Thus far, he'd been able to quash any real emotions of rage over what was about to occur, the reasoning part of his mind finding ample excuses not to intervene, but he knew it would not be the case if any of his other, 'truer' Avatars came upon the scene. With a calmer demeanor and tone, he turned to address Morgan once again. "Perhaps it will be over by the time one of my other selves is able to breach through. I'd hate to see one of my bodies decimated in a futile attempt to save her shell." That it was a selfish notion went without saying, and perhaps realizing it, he changed focus a bit. "I see you are faring well enough, under the circumstances. From a control perspective, that is. And I'm sure you are already aware that there is no need for you to watch. So why put yourself through this? It will do nothing for her, and you don't owe it to anyone to be here. As you said before, its only a shell now. Heed your own words, and save yourself some pain. Its a strong emotion, to be sure, but far too negative".
Morgan let out a bitter chuckle, "spoken like a true villain, but you are wrong. YOU are the one that need not watch. I do. The demon is their next target; I'm here to ensure that it won't be. You forget the demon is Shyne, her rage, her need for destruction, another fell safe to fulfill her duty. The rage part of her is in it. Haven't you felt it? I cannot let them take it or the demon to slay it or use it, it cannot be. If so Soul Reaver has nothing in its way except my daughter, which is too high a risk. She is the key to bring her mother back and restoring what has been lost. The demon is the part of her that let her Master Soul Reaver. It needs protection now. You however are useless here. Go back and Baby-sit like a good little brat or perhaps bed more pretty women. You still have a chance to do right, and you can live your life. You never owed her anything. Go back, there is nothing at all for you here..." He sat then, looking at him. His eyes bright with malice from the Vlad of old, his beautiful features, mocking him, intending to wound for nothing more than because he wanted to.
The hateful glare was returned, but not for the same reasons, obviously. Then his oak-brown orbs shifted to the demonic creature, a studious bent held within, alongside the anger. "Keep flustering and berating if it makes you feel better. I do have a purpose here, even aside from simple academic curiosity." His gaze then fell back upon the seated Thayan. "And what of this talk of 'right'? I'm sure you damn well know what has transpired, and that I've chosen to turn away from right and step full fold into righteousness, all to better serve my own causes. Perhaps my other ego will have some use for the semantics of right and wrong, but I no longer do."
Frowning once more, thoughtfully, he turned back to look upon the demon again. "And if that has been a part we've needed to retrieve all along, why did you not contain it and move it elsewhere as of yet?"
A smile curved Morgan's lips. "It's a good thing she's gone then. Such a monster you are now. Hurt her little heart it would, to know you just came here to study. Well enjoy the show, for it's about to begin.
For all your divinity you do not remember much do you? Yana put stay spells on it, her and Aidan. If I tamper with that, the backlash could kill Aidan or sever his link permanently with his sister. What purpose would he have then...or do you care?" He looked up to survey the black demon in its endless flight of circles, his eyes as bleak as iron.
"The loss of Aidan, in either capacity, would be acceptable. What matters is restoring her. It would be a price he'd gladly pay, I'm sure. Better that she should rise again and have to find a new guardian than have him here and now serving no purpose with nothing to guard." He paused a moment, and added in, a bit icily. "And I didn't come here only to study, dimwit. But neither will I pass this opportunity up from such a standpoint."
"Again your stupid and ignorant brain knows no bounds. Let me enlighten you oh grand evil one. It is not acceptable, if he were here now he'd tell you the same thing. If he dies now, she will not return the same. Aidan and her life strands are intertwined. Half of her would be missing, unwholesome and unclean. With Yana's capacity for kindness and love...do you honestly think that she could cope with what she is without him? Did you honestly let yourself believe Aidan's one duty was to guard her? No his true purpose is to keep her stabilized so she can be a proper host. He's just as much a host as she is. His capacity for no emotion is what keeps her focused and Death to use him when hers get in the way. In truth, neither is aware of it. But it is death that commands him."
"Bah...and do you honestly believe she will come back the same? No one could go through something like this and ever be the same. For all of our efforts to put the pieces back into their proper place, it will matter little. Perhaps you are correct, and Aidan was an integral part of the stabilization -- part of her. But that is a crutch, and one she'll have to overcome. Mayhap that is to be part of this 'process', for all we know. Sooner or later she would have to do without him anyway. Perhaps if you'd been a stronger man, she could have realized that earlier in life, and shown her that the crutch can be replaced when broken." True enough, part of it was nothing but a jab at the man, but other aspects could be true enough in theory. The truth was neither of them had obvious answers, and the debates could rage on and on. That he was no longer thinking as he used to was not helping their 'conversation' any.
"Then end his existence, if you feel, he has no part in this, but best check yourself before you say one life is better off dead then your own self my dear boy. Since you are a one man army now, you save her or better yet, are a true villain and ignore the situation, all the gods, even Mystra. It has not affected them, so why bother right? As it stands, by right you are now her enemy...all the gods are, just some accept that nothing can last forever before it is renewed, remade and reborn. Ignore her, she does not matter, for in truth Death could get out, death could choose another host. It'll take lots of time and effort, and you being divine and such, will live to see the wrongs righted without ever having done a thing except sit idle. She's not your lover or friend after all. So she was kind to you, there is no need to do anything. You're not what you were before. Again why bother? You're just studying. So there is no real need for conversation either. Your other self will eventually become the recessive side after awhile; there will be no good in you left. When that day happens you can bet I'll be there with you, laughing."
No barbs now, just point blank honesty and another truth. "The monsters here are us, boy. Those lost souls down there, just want rest. The enemy wanted a better utopia, is that evil? Not truly. But oh well, you can be the one to tell Selena what happened to her mother. What will happen? I've already tried, but you, oh my yes, you have it in you now to destroy innocence or let her keep it. As her parent I have failed, but you are now her guardian, that is all she has, for that is all she knows. So yes, be uncaring. She is the true crutch. She believes everything will be fine. Truth leaves us bear and unable to hide. So why should she be sheltered?" He wasn't expecting an answer, nor was he pressing buttons, not even playing games. He merely was stating a truth.
"You...are...wrong...Thayan. I will...not...become...recessive!" The words were full of anger, both at the Thayan, and at the truths inside, broken apart by the fact he was shifting forms in the process, lowering in height and broadening of muscle. Pausing to shake his head and assert the transformation, he then turned a steely blue gaze out upon the carnage, his voice different now as well, tinged with certain sadness. "And no, even if I should let that happen, you would not be there to laugh. You are dead, and will be laid to rest once again when this is all over." There was no pushing of buttons or any sense of it being a barb when he spoke, and he turned to regard Morgan before continuing. "It doesn't have to be that way, but I can understand that you would choose it to be so, to a degree." Rubbing one hand over his face in a weary manner, he looked upon the ruined Inn once more. "And it is not my place to teach Selena the lessons of life, for as you've stated, I am not Yana's lover, nor am I Selena's parent. You, however, are here, now, and have the opportunity to pass on what you will to her. Despite all the bad happening right now, there is the opportunity for you to make the most of it while here. Take it up. She will feel loss when it is over, but she will also come out the richer for it."
"Evil has many faces, who is to say you will not become me later on boy? It is your place now, I cannot influence her now for that would impede on her decisions later she must make on her own." He shrugs. "My final gift to her was that piece of her mother, so she doesn't forget happiness in the events to come. My mission is to detain Soul Reaver, after that is up to her and who chooses to go with her."
"I am more of a failure in the fatherly aspect than you, so I'd say we should both pray someone better comes along." His face contorts with effort, a visible struggle within evident to any present.
"And no, I daresay I will not...become...you." As swiftly as before, the transformation took place, the skin darkening once more, unruly blonde locks replaced by a clean shaven, tattooed crown. "Straying away from the light is a necessity, pure and simple. I left a vacuum in the pantheon, and as such is my place to fill it. The power I gained...the power I count on to help me fight the good fight, comes only from the behest of my evil servitors. Should I not fulfill their desires, grant them the further capacity to commit more and more atrocities, I would lose too much, become naught much more than the mortal I once was. And despite what you may think--Hells, even what I think at times--I do this not out of purely selfish reasons, but...for...." Again there is a battle of wills, and the blonde counterpart comes out on top, the body shifting to fit the presence in swift fashion. "...Her. Without the extra resources I have at my disposal right now, our quest could take decades, or even centuries longer. Whatever you may think, she was--is-- my friend and I help because I care about her, not because of what she holds inside. You've already admitted that Death could find another host. But that means little when considering we cannot find another Yana."
Before he could reply or retort, a sound loud and tearing like torn silk split the air, coupled with an earth shattering shriek from the demon, as the undead tore a hole in the shield. Their clawing becoming more desperate now as their long awaited prey was in reach. Morgan darted a glance at him and managed strained speech. 'I see your time with her was not so futile. She has taught you at least a few things. Just remember that it's okay to change, but do forget who you were before it. Deny that or quash it and you'll mutate to where no one, not even yourself, will remember who you are."
Nodding once quickly in response, knowing that the hour was upon them, he cracked his neck and started to stride forward. "That in mind, it is blindly and stupidly into the fray I shall go, for that is what heroes do. True enough cannot stop them all, but it'll feel a damn sight better to fight back than sit id---irk!" Coughing up a mouthful of blood, he gazes slowly down at his abdomen to note the gore-slicked blade protruding from it, eyes wide with surprise and perhaps in a portrayal of pain.
"Idiot. Do you really think I'd allow you to wade out there and be destroyed? Wasn't it you who just yammered on about the need for our unique 'resources'? Yet you willingly would lay one to waste in a futile act such as this? I'll have no part of it, and neither will you." To add a bit of emphasis, he twists the blade and yanks it out painfully, his oak-brown orbs blazing with silvery blue light as he prepares a protective incantation, in the event that Avatar would soon face off against Avatar, a single bead of sweat pouring from his clean shaven temple, perhaps out of anticipation. And perhaps out of the inner struggle that was surely present as Ego faced off against Ego.
"You should have let him; it would've been fun to see a hero die again. Honestly it tickles me to watch good guys trollop around and die because of their purpose. Besides if you all die, well you get my woman." He flashed a sick grin, sweating himself as he was locked rigid, sitting there as the demon swooped shattering the shield on impact, but had no time to revel in it, as the stay spells on it forced it back into flight. The bowled over undead got trampled as waves upon waves of their comrades raced to snatch the small sleeping body of one woman, and within moments, bones were cracking, tendons tearing as watery blood gushed forth. And the woman who was queen of the realm was torn limb from limb, in pure heated frenzy. Nothing was spared, the scraps of her night clothes and even her tiny scraps of flesh were being fought over like ravenous wolves.
"Nooooo!" That it came out as an emotion filled roar would be an understatement, the very mental backlash of it sending the Cogliostro guised Avatar spiraling through the air, any spells and chance of a fight obviously broken by the raw intensity of the true self's anguish. It was too late to do anything at all, it happened so swiftly, and tears ran unbidden down his cheeks. Perhaps Morgan was able to steel him completely, but he was not. Neither could he keep from being overwhelmed by first the rage which the tide of undead was unleashing, then by the frustration as realization slowly dawned on them that tearing the body apart was doing nothing for their condition. With those emotions brought to the fore of his being, he concentrated his will and called on the divinity within to surround himself with pure positive energy, leaping headlong into the fray with complete abandon, intent on doing as much harm as he could. That some of those souls were innocents in their own way mattered little right now. They had to pay, one way or another. "Get that godsbedamned demon already, Thayan." That was the extent of his talk before disappearing within the veritable cloud of undead, the energies about him snuffing scores of them from existence at a time, sending them to true oblivion, rays of the same energy momentarily clearing him a path towards her final resting place, only to be replaced in the next heartbeat by another flood of souls.
Morgan would have groaned had he gotten the chance, but now was not the time to stall. Higher powers knew the rash man, Darius could be useful, as such they pulled a nasty trick out of their bag, or perhaps a kindness, something he needed, time abruptly stopped, everything even the demon was stilled, his powers ceased, yet he could still move. Could see Morgan was no where in sight and the undead had bits of her on their mouths and fingers. He could kill at his leisure, but not with his powers, there was something more powerful than him at work, overriding him like once before.
Falling abruptly to his hands and knees, having been more or less flying through their ranks, it took him a moment to gaze around and ascertain all that was occurring, or wasn't occurring, as the case may be. "No! You've no right! They are not innocent! Each came of its own accord and intended to make her pay the price for their Eternal Rest, so they were in the wrong!" Leaping up, he lunged out and grabbed one of the still souls, drawing his arm back as if he intended to strike them down by hand, each in turn. Then he stopped, and really looked at it, the woman's face fraught with not only anger, but confusion. Perhaps the drive was not their own, after all. Emitting a guttural roar, he looked around, seeing much the same upon each stilled individual. Shoulders suddenly slumping, he looked to the bier where her body had lain. "Why draw them all here if it meant nothing? Why tear apart the shell with no cause? Surely if you have the power to stop them now, and strip my powers from me, you could have stopped any of this from happening, instilled in them another drive altogether." Spinning about, taking it all in once more, he could do little to hide his own frustration and sadness. "There was no need!"
A shadow came across his vision; someone knelt down and sat there amidst the crowd. A gentle touch caressed the flesh of his hand, patting it fondly. If he looked, it was Aiyana, with her ready sweet smile, the witty yet kind swirling eyes that could hypnotize you. Her plain brown hair was swept up in its neat little bun, her long white streaks, framing her creamy complexion. Her clothes were plain unadorned study wool, dyed light green, to bring out the green in her hazel. No response was given, but it even smiled like her, and today the smell was honeysuckle.
Perhaps it was her, perhaps not. But whatever the truth, right now he needed to grasp onto the 'reality' of it. Dropping suddenly to his knees, directly in front of her, tears still streaming silently down his face, he reached out with both hands and gently clasped them onto her cheeks, desperate to cling on in some small way, a smile struggling to come to life on his face. "Aiyana...?"
"You've been drinking too much brandy again, haven't you?" came her clear melodic voice that was rich and warm with varying tones and lilting, that so often calmed anything and anyone. She scooted to him more, never mind dirtying her dress, she kissed his hands, each of them on the palm and reached to kiss his forehead with her pale pink lips, wrapping her slight arms around his head and neck to cradle him to her small, well covered but well rounded bosom.
"Just relax; I'm here now the bad part is over. I know it hurts, that's why I'm here. So go ahead and grieve, its fine, no one is here but me and you and you know I'll never tell."
And for a comforted moment, thats exactly what he did, letting the sobs come out fully. Then with a deep sniffle, he tried to compose himself a bit, and stopped thinking about his own welfare, not wanting to leave her arms completely, so he only pulled away enough so that he could bring his head up and face her, still clinging onto her. This time he did manage to smile, rather warmly. "I miss you--we miss you--, so very much. But it is you who endures the worst of it, milady. Were that it possible I could comfort you, know that I would, with every fiber of my being. I just don't know how...don't understand it all...so confusing...come back to us...." The last part started to trail off, as words began to fail him, emotion choking up his ability to speak as well.
She smiled charmingly, her rare beautiful smile that she made her glow. Ruffling his hair affectionately she giggled in her cute girlish way, she replied, "I miss you too. Miss all of you. But I'm lost and I cannot find my way back. You'll show me the way won't you. You'll find me, you always do...you're my bodyguard right?" She winked at him, sly and quick, the way she always did when she knew she was deliberately boosting his ego.
He let something escape his lips that were a mixture of laughter and a sob, after which one of his own trademark grins erupted on his face. "Not to hear you say it, I'm not." He was speaking about the bodyguard part, and he knew that it did not need explained. Then the grin faded, and the warm, yet sad smile fell back into place, though a determined seriousness lay within his blue-grey orbs.
"Yes, we will find you. By all that's holy or unhallowed, I swear this. Even should all the others falter in the task, I will not. This I swear." Knowing this small reprieve would end soon, he let one hand drop, but gently caressed her cheek with the other, taking in every minute feature, and breathing in her scent, clinging to it all more so than he'd ever done before, coming to many small realizations about the woman and keeping it near to heart. He fully intended to carry out his word, and bring back this, his most endeared friend. There was so much more to say and perhaps do, but it could wait.
"Good," she planted a soft kiss on his nose, and then kissed his hand, jumping up to her feet, and tugging him up, or trying to anyway, straightening at his clothes. "Now get out there, and be my hero. Don't forget to impress me, I'll be watching and waiting." She grinned devilishly then, like she knew something he didn't, but waving at him with tiny hand.
Rising slowly, he cocked his head to the side a bit, questioningly, as he caught that devilish grin. Briefly, he returned one of his own in her direction, taking one last, perhaps longing look in her direction, before offering a small bow of parting to her, knowing that reality would come crashing back down upon him by the time he looked up. And that she would be gone.
"Hurry up you ninny nicker. The faster you get going the faster I'll fix you pancakes when we get back. That's a promise." With that last word, a gentle wind the scent of her carried him to the cathedral out of harms way. As soon as his foot touched the surface, the effect shed away like autumn into winter, slowly but once done, chaos resumed untouched and not bothered. All traces of Aiyana were now cast on the winds. Morgan was long gone and now the undead were roaming again in moaning torment.
"I'll hold you to it...." He whispered in response, even as reality reasserted itself. For some long moments he gazed upon the scene, though not really looking at it, his mind still reflecting upon Aiyana. Then the sound of a boot scuffling nearby made him turn and snap out of it, a frown settling into place as he realized who it was, the maroon robe being enough to make the determination. Swiftly he scanned around for the Thayan, and saw no sign of him. Intrinsically linked to his other Ego, despite their differences, he knew what the larger man intended to do without it being spoken. "Go ahead, it cannot hurt, and I have the feeling they would continue to search for her. Rather, any aspect of her. This will contain at least a large portion of them for the time being, and cause no further harm to them. As for me, I have a young lady to take care of...." That in mind, he concentrated on slipping through the folds of time and space, finding it quite easy to do this time, perhaps because of some higher power giving him a boost, or perhaps something else altogether.
"Perhaps I will put some of them to use then, use them to track her various aspects down, but no need for all of them." Speaking to himself now, he hopped off the wall, cradling a small sphere of cloudy darkness in his hands, and began to wade out into the continued chaos. Perhaps he could make some use of that Shadow Orb he'd appropriated some time back after all.
No the higher power had done its job, the form of Aiyana melted away into Morgan, as he stepped through a portal, intending to track down a brat and a very large Scythe. No one saw him leave. As for the demon. Cogliostro would find it perched atop where Aiyana was laying. Calmed now, but still radiating pure malice and destructive intent. Only now its depthless eyes showed clarity. Nothing would ensnare it now, and if destruction of it is what was sought, any would find themselves sadly mistaken. For it was waiting for that precise moment to strike. As for the essence of Aiyana it held. Oh it was there still and staring at him too, waiting to be unleashed, that rage she bottled up, wanted release, but now was not the time to collect it yet, be too dangerous too, but he at least knew the creature was the aspects best protection. And so another piece was in their corner.
Making a lengthy assessment of the demon, he felt content to leave it as is, and set about with his other purpose. All but ignoring any errant undead that may choose to assault him, he set the orb a small ways away from the inn, and worked his will towards enabling it. The task was a difficult one, as he was of the Weave, and it was of the Shadow, but in a few moments it began to grow, and emit a plume of smoke. Satisfied that it would continue its job of its own accord, and that soon enough the largest portion of the undead would be drawn within its confines, he turned and began to stride purposefully towards the ruined cathedral. "Now, perhaps it is time that the winged brat and that damnable scythe are finally dealt with." Perhaps it was pure happenstance, or perhaps Morgan left some subconscious signal that he intended to do the same. In any event, he continued onward, willing himself back to the inn.
