Summary:Lucent delves into his mind with Varanim's help, to speak again to Glimpse of Night.
XP:L1, V1
Tags:< Two Facets to the Sovereign | Sol Invictus Logs | You'll Be Alright, Kid >
Lucent knocks on Varanim's room. Which had been filled by servants with flowers earlier in the day. And dressed. And stuffed mole-plushies. "Varaniiiiim." ::If you are pretending you are not there, this is Necromancy-related.::
Varanim There is a momentary pause of the precise length it might take someone to look up from important work, roll their eyes, and then listen to the ring message. Then comes the scuff of Varanim's chair, and the door cracks open. "What?"
Lucent smiles so bright it might be bad for the eyes "I want you to help me talk to a Malfean."
Varanim stares at him for a moment. "Hold on." She slams the door, there's a sound that might have been a flask uncorking and being tipped back, then after another moment she reopens the door. "All right, try saying that again, maybe it'll make sense this time."
Lucent is still smiling, repeating in an unnerving fashion! "I want you to help me talk to a Malfean."
Varanim "Who and why?"
Lucent "You have been studying Abyssals, right?" He walks past her and into her room, placing a kiss on her cheek.
Varanim Inside, the flowers have been partly shoved out of the way, along with the table, to make room for a largish diagram in the floor--for which Varanim appears to have desired color-coding, since all the points and lines are marked with various mixes of torn-off flower petals. The mole plushies are huddled in one somewhat nervous-looking pile peeking out from under the bureau.
Varanim "The subject occasionally comes up."
Lucent "So you know how they are connected to the Malfeans - in greater or lesser degrees. Whispers on the back of their heads. Some of them have little... and for some, like Beyond, it dominates their personality," he waves a hand about, "You know I have them, as well. I can hear him whispering in my mind, at times. I can call for it."
Varanim "I'm familiar with the principle, yes. Not being stark mad, I naturally haven't gone hunting for it myself."
Lucent "And being stark raving mad, I have." He grins, a little self-deprecately. "We need more intel on the Neverborn to deal with those Abyssals. More than I can get with just a few whispers. I need to TALK to Glimpse. Directly. You do it with your Gem... could you help me do it with mine?" He taps the black crescent on his forehead.
Varanim folds her arms and stares at him in silence for an abnormally long period.
Lucent "If we reverse the Principle of Minds as we did before, I believe you might be able to guide my subconscious..." He says a little unsure. He knew all the triggers to things, but... "At least, I think that can work. You can take me to... 'him' through that?"
Varanim tilts her head to the side, thinking. "Probably."
Varanim "If you're planning to shout him into submission or try to sleep with him, it'd be nice to know in advance so I can plan my drinking for the day."
Lucent looks at her in disbelief. "... do you have any idea how wrong that is?"
Varanim "It's really adorable how you can manage that innocent face. No, that's great. All right, where do you want to try this bit of hilarity?"
Lucent "Somewhere safe. And silent. Good to go under. YOUR specialty, I believe." He grins.
Varanim considers for a moment. "Come on, then."
Varanim --
Varanim Varanim's old "office," a healthy walk from the Cascade, is a crumbled shrine perched on the edge of a ravine. It is troublesome to reach and quite deserted, and has only a hammock and a rickety chair for furniture. "Make yourself comfy--or don't, as suits you."
Lucent sits in lotus position at the center of the shrine, letting the flow of ancient worship go past him. A monument to Gods, now dead. It could not be more perfect a place. "So that is where you used to hide from us, hmmm?"
Varanim "If that's Lucentese for 'think in peace,' then yes." She sits across from him, scowling thoughtfully, and pushes up her sleeve to examine first her arm where the hearthstone rests, then Lucent's forehead. "Ready?"
Lucent closes his eyes, the light in the shrine growing dimmer. "Ready."
Varanim With his eyes closed, Lucent doesn't see the momentary look of fondness that passes over her face. Then it vanishes, replaced by the grim curiosity of business, and she places flesh fingers on her hearthstone, soulsteel fingers on Lucent's forehead, and seeks for the door in his consciousness that will lead in to the Malfean's whispers.
Lucent inhales, going inside, seeking the dead god amidst the ruins of existence.
Endu Lucent looks around in his own mind, searching, questing for that hint of darkness, the speck of emptiness that marks the place where Glimpse of Night had touched his mind.
Endu And then, without warning, everything goes black, and he finds himself sitting in complete and utter darkness.
Lucent takes a step, then another, in the utter blackness. "Glimpse? Glimpse of the Night?"
Endu The darkness remains, just as thick and oppressive, but Lucent feels a warm breeze blow in from some distance in front of where he stands -- and on it is the sickly-sweet stench of rotting flesh. The voice of the Malfean follows moments later: {SOLAR.}
Lucent greets him in a manner unknown even in the First Age. A manner taught only to Infernal Exalted, a greeting to the great Primordial, makers of existence. "I am sorry for this intrusion, Glimpse of the Night, and for overstepping my bounds. But there is much I need to ask of you, if you are to rest like you desire."
Endu Behind himself, Lucent hears the faint clattering of something -- bones, he realizes after a moment -- bumping and colliding, many tiny objects in swift motion, as something assembles itself amidst the gloom.
Endu After a moment, it completes itself, and begins to glow with a faint, guttering foxfire light: a huge, uneven throne built entirely of bones, deeply stained with blood. {SIT,} says the voice of the Neverborn.
Lucent looks over his shoulder, showing some unnerving at long last... but he sits, anyway. "Thank you, forefather."
Endu As Lucent sits, he feels the ominous warmth still left in those bones, as if each of them were plucked just moments ago from a living body. {ASK.}
Lucent "We have come to meet our shadowed counterparts working for the First and Forsaken Lion, and that has made me... curious. You are not his Malfean, I take it? What... is the relationship between the Malfeans and the Deathlords? How are they arranged?"
Endu A flash of lightning cuts through the darkness, and Lucent sees the outline of some grand, indescribable being filling the sky, and far below -- the profile, just briefly, of Larquen, his two crystalline faces unmistakeable even in silhouette -- before darkness fills everything once again. {ONE.}
Lucent "One Deathlord to One Abyssal? Is that what you intend to tell me, forefather?" He looks at it, for a moment attempt to make out the sky... and then, eyes shooting wide open, averting his eyes. After composing himself, he continued, "What about your goals? How free is the Mask of Winters to do as he pleases? How often do your goals come in conflict with one another?"
Endu The wind blows in again, hotter and stickier than before. {A SERVANT, NOT A PUPPET.} Lucent almost thinks he hears a familiar laugh, somewhere in the distance, but it's hard to be sure.
Lucent shivers a little. "So, if this servant were to become too willful, if his objectives were to stray far from yours'... what could you do, forefather? I know Larquen Quen. He is one of the most willfull and self-centered men in existence."
Endu Lucent feels something, a little startling, and hears a loud CRACK -- one of the bones making up his right armrest snaps violently in half, and the pices fall to the ground below.
Lucent "I... see." He shakes his arm a little uncertainly as he sees the armrest's bone falling. "What about each other? If each of you controls a single Deathlord, how do you cooperate? It would seem like your goals would be in alignament, but the Deathlords appear to act each on their own initiative..."
GlimpseOfNight A grey, wan light begins glowing faintly some distance before Lucent, and he sees, floating in it, it a black metal platter, a fine, juicy cut of meat.
Lucent "... meat? Forgive me, forefather, but I do not understand."
GlimpseOfNight {LOOK CLOSER.}
Lucent gets up from the chair, walking VERY carefully towards the platter, into the meat...
GlimpseOfNight Lucent draws quite close to the platter, looking at it intently, before suddenly a huge, ichor-slick white maggot bursts its head out of one side of the meat with a wet squick sound.
Lucent jumps back! "... WHAT?!?"
GlimpseOfNight As Lucent watches, more and more distended, engorged worms burst from the meat -- a black one, first, and then others in every monochromatic shade -- and they turn upon it with a ferocity, biting and chewing with great swiftness until they have devoured the entirety of the flesh, then drop to the ground where they burst open and begin immediately to rot.
Lucent "That... was disgusting." Lucent covers his mouth for a moment. "What does that have to do with anything?"
GlimpseOfNight {LIKE THE WORMS,} the voice echoes all around Lucent, {WE DO NOT NEED TO COOPERATE.}
Lucent "Eat, and rest." He does not spare the platter a second glance, looking away. "I see. Is it your nature that drives you apart? In life, Primordials are order, deserts, hierarchy, cities, rulership, night... what about in death? Do you retain separate natures, and that is what drives you apart?"
GlimpseOfNight {WE ARE NOT ALIKE,} the voice says, echoing, {EVEN IN DEATH.}
Lucent "What differs you, then?" He asks, after a long pause. "It... seems to be alike. Death, bones."
GlimpseOfNight {OUR SMALLEST PIECE IS AS GREAT AS YOU,} it says, and a thousand wanly-glowing eyes open up to look in at Lucent from every direction. {WE ARE UNITED IN DEATH, BUT DIVIDED IN ALL ELSE.}
Lucent "I see." He nods in understanding, attempting to look back at the eyes, then looking away after a sudden fit of vertigo. "So, if we are to break the Lion, you would not mind. Nor any of the other Deathlords would come to aid - not, at least, due to Malfean concerns. Do you know his Malfean? Their relationship?"
GlimpseOfNight Lucent hears something -- a roar, like an angry animal, from somewhere behind him.
Lucent looks over his shoulder, preparing himself for a fight, if need be...
GlimpseOfNight Standing behind him, Lucent sees there -- a thick, muscled, black lion. Its flesh is rotten in places, rippled muscle or even bone showing through from underneath, but it stands strong nonetheless. And wrapped around it, encircling its body from tail to head in its thick coils, is a white albino serpent.
GlimpseOfNight Lucent sees the serpent's head bob and weave around the lion's head; sees it whisper into the lion's ear; and he sees then that the snake is wrapped so tightly around the lion's neck as to be a collar -- or to choke it with but the slightest motion.
GlimpseOfNight The serpent's red eyes glint as it takes stock of Lucent's presence, though the lion does nothing at the moment to attack.
Lucent "So, he cannot move without her knowing. Without... her..." He blinks. "Is that Auna? Or just an image?" He takes a step back, edging away from it. Just... in case.
GlimpseOfNight {WE ARE EVERYWHERE OUR NAMES ARE SPOKEN,} it says, even as the serpent considers Lucent more thoroughly, and the Lion begins to emit a low growl at him, {AND NOWHERE AT ALL. IF YOU KNOW OF THAT WHICH WAS ONCE AUNA, SHE KNOWS ALSO OF YOU.}
Lucent "So. To make Abyssals choose her instead of the Deathlord is impossible. You are one and the same, Auna." He sighs. "That is indeed unfortunate. That worked so well with Ember of Glory." He shakes his head. "You touched my love, Auna. You tained her. For that, I will ruin all you have built."
GlimpseOfNight The snake hisses, and the lion rises up on its haunches, even as pitch-black curtains swoop in from both sides to hide the beasts from view.
Lucent edges farther away from it. "What... about your creations? Auna tainted my love through the use of the Ija, her Hundredfold. They were not... normal, however. They had been tainted by her fall. Why?"
GlimpseOfNight {ALL DEAD,} the voice says. {ALL DEAD.}
Lucent "Yes, they are all dead, but... why? None of the other races are so connected with you."
GlimpseOfNight Where the rotten platter of meat hung in the air before, now Lucent sees something else: a drawing of a verdant valley, nestled between tall, dry mountains, a bubbling oasis in the center.
GlimpseOfNight As he looks at it, he sees darkness cloud the clear sky of the drawing, deeper and deeper, until nothing can be seen beneath that dark sky -- and then, without warning, a golden hammer swings out of the darkness, shattering the drawing as if it were glass and letting the pieces rain down and dwindle into darkness below.
Lucent sees it falling... and understands. And not. The image searing his mind... as he feels the serpent coming closer. "It seems I angered your companion, forefather. I had best be going now." He makes the same kind of courtesy as he had before - a gesture of respect for Primordial eminence. "I am sorry for any incovenience, and thankful for the time you have given me."
Lucent "And I will make sure my friends put you to rest."
Lucent "After I am gone, to join you or not."
GlimpseOfNight The dead being once known as Meru does not reply; and a moment later, the darkness lifts, and Lucent is back in the room with Varanim.
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