faithlikeaseed | AEFENGLOM INBOX [IC]

"Yes. As much as it pains me to say, but the Chantry hasn't always acted with truth as her aim."

It really does pain him to say; he is sorrowful that this is the state of the world, without denying it.

He goes on: "Spirits aren't evil of themselves, but they did let their envy of mankind--the Maker's second children--pervert them into demons. 'In blackest envy were demons born,' and those demons tempted men into tearing the Veil and violating the sanctity of the Maker's seat, the Golden City--blackening it forever.

"It's said their envy was the first thing the spirits created, and--I s'pose," thoughtful, now, as one coming to a new exegesis of an old and beloved scripture, "that's used as justification for the Maker's condemnation of them. Not that they couldn't create, but they didn't bother to until He had turned His face from them, and so they were deserving of His rejection. Because they chose not to be any greater than what they were."

Snip, snip, snip. More thoughtful still: "Odd thought. Don't know if I'd heard it argued that way before and forgot it or just came up with it now--but I don't know I believe it."

[Depending on preference, Ozymandias gifts his fellow Council members with either a coffee or tea sampler from the Purramid Café for Modranicht. Regardless of which sampler is received, it is fairly sizable and offers around 40 cups worth across all the blends included. The note that is included while not necessarily personalized is sincere in its expressed intent for more good works and successes to be celebrated by the Council.]

"In the cultures I have encountered, such a view is rather unusual." How unusual too, talking to a little device in a cold and drafty home he had yet to truly weatherproof, as if he were a squatter hiding from the true owners. "To attempt to be greater than one is made to be would be seen as the darkest of hubris, and that worthy of terrible punishment. Singing praise and crafting only to honor one's deity is .... often held up as exactly what one should be doing."

Not that Lahabrea did such, or believed such. Zodiark would be terribly disappointed in His worshipers if they threw away their creativity and power, how else could He ever hope to expand His influence? "It may be that no modern explanation is the truth, merely what is decided to explain a hostile and ancient species. We too are often seen as demons and monsters, for we came first, and we are capable of things that terrify most mortals but are not beholden to their rules and laws and thus made 'safe'. Mayhap these firstborn spirits are similar."

He's not offering it with definitive certainty, merely venturing an idle curiosity - so far this is all interesting education, not something for him to be putting forth hypotheses to be tested.

[On the day of the holiday, a plate of homemade cookies and a sample of herbal tea mysteriously appears on his doorstep. The wrapping is decorated with a fresh lily flower (actually a Fae magic product, designed to fade away from existence in a few hours) and a ribbon. The attached handwritten note reads as follows:]

Happy Modranicht! Let’s have another great year here in Aefenglom!

M⚜️

[Not long after Marie's gift shows up, a bag of honey candy and a small basket of tiny, fresh strawberries arrive at her door--along with a thank-you note for her considerate gift.

There is a post-script as well:]

I'm afraid I somehow managed to misplace the flower--or my wormipede ate it--but thank you all the same!

[He, uh. Didn't see it fade away.]

"Truly?" Myr's tone is one of curious wonder rather than incredulity. "I know there's a cult of the Maker or two that has something like that as doctrine--but the Chant is explicit that after Making mankind, He wished to see what we'd make of ourselves and the world He had given us. How we'd grow out of the 'opposition in all things' He declared for it."

Growing through hardship and leaving the world a better place than one found it were sacred acts, for Myr. He's maybe not representative of Andrastians generally, but that's hardly heterodox to their beliefs.

He...breathes out, slowly, (is there a Maker's breath hidden in the outrushing sigh?) at Lahabrea's proffered explanation. If he'd had cause to question his instincts about the sort of creature he was dealing with, here, he's definitely discarded it now. At least his hair-trigger response to things that fit the "demon" mold has attenuated in Aefenglom, with time and painful experience. Still...

"It may well be," he finally says. "Not all of the Chant is meant to be taken literally, and not all of it was copied forward as well as we'd like. There may be truth about the spirits that we've lost over the Ages, that gives a clearer picture of how the demons came to be. But I do still trust the Maker Made them, just as He Made us--even if, perhaps..."

He trails off, stacking gourds audibly in his basket as he turns the thought over in his mind. The Chantry had scapegoated and erased elves from the Chant over mortal politics--they'd docked Shartan's ears and relegated him to a mere title in Andraste's own Canticle. What could that mean for spirits, or demons?

"...we don't understand them so well as we should." Maker, forgive me for entertaining these ideas, and whatever it might mean should I return to the Fade after.

He balances a final gourd in the basket and sets it aside. "Are your kind hunted, then, whenever mortals find you out?" It's a little bit of a gruesome--and maybe invasive--thing to ask a new acquaintance, but given how demons were regarded on Thedas...it's a logical leap.

One that leaps him right away from considering uncomfortable things about spirits at length.

[Within the day, a Puca courier arrives with Myr's response to Ozymandias' gift: A bottle of mead, a bag of homemade honey candy, and a slice of preserved honeycomb. There is also a fine knob of gold sealing wax, no doubt from the same bees.

A note comes with it, written in the hand of a hired scribe:]

Messere Ozymandias,

You have my sincerest appreciation for your generous gift, and the valorous spirit you bring to the Mirrorbound Council. While we may not always agree on the best course for our adopted city or our roles within it, there is no question in my mind you act out of justice and care for your people.

Pray the Maker more would conform to your example of kingship.

With gratitude,
Myrobalan Shivana

"Quite. Often with a 'fall from grace' tale that speaks of a paradise to be regained if only one is humble and praises their God enough." Even the lizardfolk had a similar story, though Ifrit's part in it tended to mean a lot of burning if things weren't done exactly right. As legacies go, it could be worse.

The Ishgardians were nearly as bad, but they did have their well armed clergy keeping them in line..

There's a faint tapping sound, like a nail or claw against a tabletop. "Mind you, if such a thing is a possibility, running off into the wild dark yonder to attempt to extend a flower of peace to such historical foes will likely have such an audacious attempt taken out of your hide. Centuries of conflict are rarely swiftly forgotten.. by either side." Even if it's possible to try to find out the truth of these demons, doing so may well end in horrible death.

Lahabrea absolutely would try it anyway if only to soothe his curiosity; he's certain they could do nothing to him. But a mere mortal? Up against spiritual beings who could in theory shape the world around them? No, that's a contest that could only end one way for the faun.

"...As for we Ascians. Mortals may wish to hunt us, but we are as above them as you are a housecat. The pet might think itself a great predator, and scratch and bite, but its chances of even doing temporary harm is negligible." Infections aside. "They might as well swing a sword at the morning fog or shake a fist at the moon for all it does them. If they could... oh, mayhap someone would grow bold enough and dare bare fangs at what many would call gods."

Oh, Myr would get possessed and no mistake were he to naively try such a thing, and he meets Lahabrea's warning with a wry laugh. It's enough to snap him out of his momentary melancholy, at least. "Truly, messere; if there's another truth behind the spirits we don't know, it's likely one I'd be better off finding through other sources than the principles himself."

Too bad he can't read anymore!!

There's a rustle of foliage and a hush of cloth on cloth as he gets up and feels his way to the next patch of squashes that require harvesting. Some creature makes a querulous noise in the background. "Maker's breath." Openly said, this time. "Are there any of those folk from your own world here--the sort who'd fight if given the chance?"

Is Lahabrea in imminent danger of getting murdered for what he had been now that he's not?

...And then, not because he doesn't know the answer but because he wants to see how his assumptions line up with what Lahabrea would say: "And for what reason?"

"Good. Stars know how often mortals get killed from merely indulging curiosity. You're a fragile lot, haring off begging trouble isn't wise." At least Myr did seem to understand that on some level! And yet here he is speaking to an Ascian. Certainly he doesn't really understand the true implications of that, or what Ascians actually did, but that was neither here nor there.

He'd learn eventually, likely.

There's another faint tap. "No." The answer is immediate and certain. Irhya's worthless, and hardly a threat. "Those who would try to fight us are inevitably fed lengthy tales about our evil and how it will bring ruin to the world. Which is absolute nonsense, but when you hear such nonsense from childhood's hour you're oft not terribly inclined to listen to words contrary to your careful education." He sounds disgusted. Destroy the world? Hardly! They were dedicated to saving it!

"..Ah, but being sidetracked - where do things stand now, between your Maker and all else? Where does this lead?"

[Suddenly, one evening!]

Ah. Myr. Are you about? I've been meaning to ... how do they say it these days. 'Drop a line'.

Is that how they say it these days? [Hello! Myr is obviously tickled by the expression.] How's that metaphor even meant to work?

--Ah, but, as you can see I am about and awake, [he adds, with amused chagrin at himself.] And free to talk.

I am told so, yes.

[He's a little dubious, what did any of this have to do with lines?]

Excellent. I'd been wondering how you've been faring with the trouble going on, but you seem so far quite alive. While I admit most of this nonsense is beyond my interest in dealing with, you are my only route to off-season strawberries. It would be quite troublesome if you were to be stolen away.

[Although it's said with what sounds like utter sobriety, it really can't be just that. And isn't, in truth; he enjoyed their conversation in as much as he could enjoy anything to do with any mortal. Having yet to be preached at about morality was absolutely a point in Myr's favor, among other things.]

[One thing Myr has learned about preaching morality is it rarely works on people with strong moral senses (even if they're wrong) that haven't gotten them into active trouble. Much better to find common ground and gently ease them toward a better way.

How one did that with ancient demigods who generally put forth they wrote the rules of morality...remained to be seen.

But it wouldn't stop a Faun from trying! If Lahabrea's people were more free-willed than demons, or Connor's sort of artificial intelligence, they could always change.]

Ah--and I'm glad for the concern, messere; it hasn't been an easy few weeks but I've avoided being kidnapped at the very least. And the strawberries are due for another crop if you'd like a basket, [with a gentle amusement.]

And yourself? You've remained untroubled, I take it?

You're quite quick with those. Does faun magic include speeding the growth of plant life as well? Should I ever find my way off this miserable rock, one of my ... companions would be keen to be introduced to you, I think.

[And then Myr is going nowhere for the rest of his natural life while Halmarut puts him to work. There were worse fates.]

My unwillingness to mingle with the commonfolk in the dead of winter continues to serve me well. Any such trouble would have to get into my home and then find me within it and then escape intact. I should I suppose, offer my aid to that impetuous person on the pocket-watch trying to arrange for escorts, but ... even back in brighter days such was not my inclination.

[He'll quite happily stay home, kthx.]

...There was one who was, however. I wonder if any have asked her aid yet.

Edited (FUCKING BRACKETS) 2021-02-07 16:24 (UTC)

It does that; I'd ordinarily not force them quite so much but they proved unexpectedly popular. [Winter strawberries were a force for happiness in a gloomy, threatening environment; how could he not grow a few extra crops, knowing that?] ...If the circumstances align, messere, I think I'd be pleased to meet him. Though whether or not I'd still be a faun, I'm not sure.

[Which is worlds better than "whether or not I'd still exist if you tried to remove me from Geardagas"; he's going to lean into the Ascian's faith there rather than slipping off into existential angst.

He flicks an ear over on his side of the call at the professed lack of civic spirit, smiling a little ruefully to himself.] If the mad impulse should seize you anyhow at a later time, we'd take you up on it. But it's a miserable time to be traveling anyhow.

[Has he avoided kidnapping attempts by refusing to go out in the snow himself unless absolutely necessary? ...Probably.]

--Oh? If she'd not heard Caster's request and she'd volunteer, it might be worth contacting her. [A pause, and then a little more gloomily:] This will likely get worse before it gets better, at the rate we're progressing with the Circle.

[There is briefly, a touch of amusement to his tone.]

She, as of her last vessel. A botanist of .. oh, some ... thirty thousand years' experience I believe. If you wished to be a faun even on my star, it is a simple matter to see to it that you are.

[Apparently, Lahabrea isn't the only one who might qualify for demigod status. It might be a bitter topic ordinarily, but he's certain he'd see that spark in Halmarut that had died eons before, if handed something new and connected to her once-Mastery.]

I know not if the one I am thinking of has heard of the request, I don't recall reading her writing or hearing her voice on his messages. We don't ... precisely get on very well, much like petroleum and flame under most circumstances, but she has contended with both corruptive influences and such groups as these in the past.

[And future, in theory. Although he outright admits he doesn't get along with her, nothing in his tone or words suggests just how full of animosity that relationship truly is.]

Irhya, if you've a mind to see if she'd be interested; an Adventurer through, she'll be disinclined to refuse an earnest request. She.. might, if you've a stag's enhanced senses, smell rather of cat and undeath.

Edited 2021-02-11 23:01 (UTC)

[...There's a pause that's slightly longer than normal there as Myr really thinks about that. Would he want to be a faun instead of an elven mage if he were on another place than Thedas entirely?]

I-- [He's so used to be a faun by now. He finally gives a helpless laugh.] I don't know whether I would or not by now--want to be a faun, if I'd a chance to leave Geardagas for somewhere else. Ask me that one again when I've had time to think on it.

[He still wants to go home to Thedas, he realizes, but the longing's changed over the year and a half he's been here--not a fierce immediate homesickness but something like the desire to return to the Maker's side after death. There's so much he's got to do before he can leave...]

Ah! So she'd be experienced help with this. Thank you--I'll be sure to let her know not to interfere.

[........ Wait, what?]

Whatever you choose, you aren't trapped with it forever. Flesh is malleable, after all.

[At least, when he had his full power. If Myr wanted to spend the rest of his days as a sapient crouton, it could be arranged, however ridiculous the request might be.

But there is a silence after Myr's thanks and the statement that follows, save the tap tap tap of claws on what might be tabletop. It's a slow sound, punctuating the quiet with little else. After a long, long two or so minutes:]

I must apologize, clearly I heard wrong, are you not seeking aid?

[His tone is as pleasant as he can ever make it, not neutral or suspicious.]

[...Let them retread that idea of flesh being malleable later; Myr's definitely bookmarking it as an item of interest.

If it weren't for the tapping of Lahabrea's claws, Myr would think the Ascian had simply gotten distracted from replying. With it--he does wonder, a little, what he might've said wrong, though running over it in his mind he doesn't see anything at all objectionable.]

Yes, messere, [he replies, immediately.] And I'll be glad indeed if she'd render it. The best help right now is not interfering.

[He finds absolutely nothing contradictory about this, his tone says.]

I'm afraid she's likely to interfere as soon as she catches wind of trouble. It's a fatal flaw of most adventurers, you see.

[Tap. Tap. Tap.]

T'would be best, I think, if her inevitable efforts were directed somewhere more useful than merely hoping she'll stand by, for idle hands do Hydaelyn's work. And rumors abound in the city, it's only a matter of time.

[There's a long pause from Myr's end. A very long pause, long enough for the faun to get up and start pacing with a quiet click-click of hooves.

There's a problem here only he perceives, one that feels like it should be easy to think through but he hasn't his usual alacrity or clarity of thought on the matter.

This Irhya would find out about the Circle's activities and want to interfere. He wants her to interfere, like they all should be interfering, but they can't right now for the sake of other plans. He ought to discourage anyone who'd act too early from doing anything, but it sounds very much as if she'd take matters into her own hands if not given something to do.

Idle hands do Hydaelyn's work sounds enough like home for Myr to recognize the danger. What to do?

Tentatively,]

Is she suited to infiltrating them, d'you think?

[That sounds like stealth, and from what he knows of the Warrior of Light, she's as subtle and lighthanded as a bull with lances in its shoulders.]

I might think so. Her skill set is rather broad.

[It's a lie, and he knows it, but he's also good at sounding like he speaks the truth. It isn't to hurt Myr.

It's to hurt Irhya.]

Are you seeking infiltrators?

[And for all he's learned about skepticism of others' motives in the past couple of years, Myr is still a very trusting creature.]

Oh, yes--it's something I'm working at myself, [poorly,] along with a number of other Mirrorbound--getting to positions within the Circle where we can make a difference when it's time.

If I recommend her to them and she comes looking, she'll already have an in. [That last bit sounds like he's musing aloud, testing out the idea. Sure, she could get kid--

(he's not supposed to be worrying about that)

He's got enough trust with the Circle, at least, that even with a late start she could get quite far.]

[As he should be! As of yet, Lahabrea has no thoughts at all on betraying Myr himself, only using him to get rid of a dangerous, corruptive creature that some like to claim causes the extinction of his species.

He's completely justified!]

I see. That's what you're up to. I'd wondered, given your statements to the mage's query, but didn't much want to pry.

[And surprising none at all, he's not volunteering. Lahabrea's minimal kindness doesn't extend that far, and he's likely to actually keep true to staying out of the way unless provoked.]

It sounds as if this might work out well after all. You gain someone of wide skills and helpful inclination, and I ... don't have to leave home at all. Though, I may remind..

[More importantly, what sounds like concerned distraction, as if Irhya wasn't the entire point.]

Do be careful. There's more and more cwyld-touched people showing up in the city. Be certain to ask the Coven to look you over very carefully, as you cannot do it yourself.

AEFENGLOM INBOX [IC]

spirit of curiosity, maybe. or infiltration. could totally have "infiltration".

modranicht gift!

Are those already a thing or does he get his entire own classification

Modranicht gift

pretend this actually happened last year, i'm a potato

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pretend i actually posted this on time, and that december did not delete me entirely from existence

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Some Time Later

gasp

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