ꙮ A smaller pier, looking out over the sea. One of many, in Ripple’s Rest; long-unused, more for seagazing at this point than for its purpose, although I’m sure many within Ripple’s Rest, and at least one visitor, would consider that a fit purpose indeed.
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- Aurelius
- The Awoken
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← Active ScenesRipple's Docks, II
#wolf
#caion
sits on the end of the dock, eyes out to the sea, and flute to his lips. The tune he’s playing is a lonely, mournful one–not the gentle dance of the melody he played to open the portal back home, but something heavier…yet there’s a brave, defiant edge to it, too. He plays, and plays, flute-song rising across the endless wash of waves.
was humming something, to himself- and then heard a melody, and something about it seemed familiar, in a way he couldn’t possibly express. And then, who was playing it but the person- well, one of the people he’d been looking for. He approaches the dock, silently, waits for Wolf to be finished playing, and then softly clears his throat.
takes his time on the last lingering notes, spending a moment in silence, eyes closed, as the wavesong covers them–if not in silence, in something like it. Then he glances over his shoulder, and smiles slightly. “Good day to you, Caion.”
walks the rest of the way across the pier, leaving Wolf some space. Opens his mouth like he’s had something rehearsed to say and then finds it, unexpectedly, missing from his lungs, where words stay until you’re ready to speak them. How incredibly frustrating. Closes his mouth, opens it again. “Good day to you, Wolf.”
scoots over a little. “Would you like to sit?”
takes a few more steps, and sits, and looks out towards the waves, and he’s silent, for a minute, for… a while, if Wolf lets him be.
looks over at Caion’s face, and smiles softly, and turns his gaze out to the sea in turn. The silence, from him, is…companionable. Open. He watches the waves with content eyes, letting his breathing slow to match the roll of the waves. Just…present.
exhales, and something -about- that silence, about the presence of the song of the waves and the wind, about the early light knifing through dark clouds, makes it easy to say it: “It’s the first thing I remember seeing. A…” -he nods, extremely vaguely, in the direction of the ineffable depths of the sea.
turns his head and gaze towards Caion. “As a child?”
: “As far as anyone knows, I washed up ashore. Not far from here, actually.” He shakes his head. “Archie was the one who found me. Apparently there’d been… there’d been a couple of them, shockingly close to shore. Aunt Silver-Throat was investigating, Archie was tagging along.”
: “You don’t fear them.” It’s not a question, just a truth.
: “I never feared them. I know they saved me.” Beat. “I know they brought me where I… needed to be. How could I ever fear them?” He takes a long, slow, steady breath. Looks towards Wolf. “Fear is different, where you’re from, isn’t it. Even Silver-Throat fears them. Gave them a name, a generation ago. And I watched you… look at it. And then see it.”
looks out at the sea, thoughtfully. “I am not…perhaps…indicative. But neither does fear have such…immediately disastrous consequences, on my world. It is hard to say.” He looks back at Caion. “It is not that I did not see something frightening, at first. But there is a saying, amongst my people–those who serve the Song.” He smiles, faintly. “‘First, you must cast out fear.’ But…they do not mean that you must be rid of it.” He looks at Caion, directly. “To cast out fear is not to suppress one’s fear, or distract one’s self from it. It is to see it clearly. What it is…and what it is not. It is to face it head on.”
looks up, sharply. Meets Wolf’s gaze when Wolf looks at him. Blinks, once. “‘Hope, over fear’. It’s something Silver-Throat told me. I was. I hadn’t been with Whisker-Clan long. I kept having nightmares. And… it’s not that I stopped being afraid.” A long pause. “…when Archie was gone, I… The Academy’s suffered losses, lately. So they all believed they knew that it was just another loss.” His voice pitches up, insistent, driving. “But I -looked-. It didn’t make -sense-. I knew I was missing facts. And I was -right-.” He exhales, very consciously unclenches a fist. “They were afraid, and so they didn’t see?” At the very end, it’s a question, not a statement.
nods, slowly. “We–my people–are taught to cast out fear…because it blinds,” he says. “We must serve. We must guide. How can we guide, if we cannot see clearly? If we see monsters, and not animals? Enemies, not people? When we do not see reality–but see, instead, what we fear it might be.“ He looks back out at the sea. “I do not know why those great ancients project such a terrible seeming. It is a question that lingers, for me. But perhaps…” He inhales slowly, chewing his lower lip. “Perhaps what is meant is not terror…but a lesson. That, in the end…those fears which most grip and paralyze us…are not from without. They are from within.“
: “When I accepted what I feared. Faced it. Did not let it grip me. Then, and only then, did I see what was right and true.”
looks out onto the sea, with Wolf, fiddling with the sleeve of his own robe. “…I’ve gone out, looking for them, now and again. Convinced they have something to teach me. To teach all of us. And every time I see one, every single time… I’m seized by an absolute certainty that -anything can happen-.” He looks around, looks at the waves. “…which is a terrifying thing to imagine, here. Maybe that’s why.”
: “Perhaps…” Wolf smiles, slightly, slowly. “Perhaps it can.” His voice becomes soft, wondering. “I never thought to see the waves with mine own eyes. We do not have an ocean, in Almachadta. Or a sea. But in the oldest songs, the ones so old that only one hearing them through the Great Song can even understand them, it is…mentioned. I wondered, for so many years, what it would be like…to see it.” He looks over at Caion, and beams brightly, weathered face split by a joyful smile. “And here I am. I sleep to the sound of waves.“ ⁂
looks back out to the ocean, face still rapt with wonder. “Is it not a…joyful thing? To know that the world is so much wider than we knew? Such a wide and wondrous world, we have. Worlds.“ He looks over at Caion, and smiles. “To know we are so small. And yet! And yet.” 🙧
can’t help grinning. He was trying to imagine what it would be like- a world without an ocean, what do they HAVE?- but then he was alive with Wolf’s words, and he can’t help but grin. “Oh, First Principles. I want to- I’m -going to- see it, some day. The world you’re from. I don’t know how, yet, but I’m going to.” -and, in that moment, he really -is- of Whisker-Clan, isn’t he; the exact same bright-eyed determination to see every horizon that Wolf saw in Silver-Throat on this very dock. Softly: “There’s -so- much more to learn.”
smiles, warmly, at Caion. “There always was, my friend.” He casts his gaze out to the waves…and the deeps below them. “Even had we ne’er set foot here…there is always more to know.” He inhales deeply…exhales slowly…joy and wonder sliding to something grimmer and more intent. “Mm. My friend, I fear there is part of our tale you may yet need to be told. Has Archie told you aught of the Sanctuary where we awoke together? Or its master?”
shakes his head, carefully. “I know that… something happened. I theorised that Archie was -taken- from the Geode, I noted gnosis-echoes etched into the crystalline surface that did not match any refraction patterns of which I was aware, I-“ -he catches himself, smiles lightly. “I know something happened. But I don’t know what.”
: “Then we should retreat to the Library, for I do not trust myself to tell this tale without consequence, in the open air.”
turns towards Wolf, and nods, and gets to his feet, with a -little- reluctance. “I’ve still got a claim on the work-cellar for the rest of the day, at least, so we don’t have to worry about anyone finding some truly remarkable statues in the middle of the town…”
ꙮ And it’s not too far a distance from here to the work-cellar, luckily.
paces the edge of the library once they’re inside–eyes lingering on the sun-switch and its block-lettered sign, and waits for Caion to settle himself. Then: “We awoke, the six of us, on slabs in a stone room. Not knowing how we had gotten there. Memories already fractured.” He’s chewing the inside of his cheek and lower lip as he paces, gathering more words, then stops, staring up at the Sun, jaw working. “We met a…being…who calls himself the Architect. He claims to be the creator of the five worlds. He claimed to us–falsely–that they were all destroyed. That he needed our help to rebuild them.” His voice drops, and drops, into a low and dangerous rumble. “Rebuild them….better. Perhaps. With less…mess.” His lip curls. “That damnable ‘Sanctuary.’ Silent as a grave.”
leans against a wall, having made very sure he’s not leaning against any switches with remarkably ominous signs affixed to them. Probably leaning against one of the weird blueprint bookshelves, really. “With less mess. Hunh.” He looks distant - looks up, into the skylight. Looks back down. “I… I wonder if in his eyes, the worlds -were- already destroyed. I wonder if he didn’t think he was lying.” A beat. “Does… the word ‘Apoleia’ mean anything to you?”
blinks at that, (rotating) it in his head, then shakes his head. “It doesn’t. What does it mean?”
: “We’re not… sure. It’s a word in the language of the Ancients. From… what context we’ve been able to gather, it… means something like an utter, catastrophic -loss-. Destruction.” A frown. “We have so little. But there were -people- of this world, long ago. People like us. They spoke a different language, they… from what we can tell, they had gnosis-work we could only dream of. And they left us words, with horrible implications.”
: “I don’t know. I’m speculating.” He keeps looking up, into the skylight.
nods, slowly, rubbing his face with both hands, then crossing his arms. “We were freed from that place by another being. An entity who calls himself ‘the Omniclast.’ The same being…that the Architect told us had destroyed our worlds.” He chews his lower lip again. “He said…he wanted us to have choices. I do not know. But I do know one thing.” He looks grim, and fierce indeed. “It was the Architect who took Salme and I from our worlds. We did not remember, but the Mask did.”
turns towards Wolf, and frowns. “The Mask… it can remember? Does it… retain traces of gnosis? Do you know? Could I -see- it?” He’s pacing, very suddenly. “That’s probably a question for Salme, isn’t it? I’m sorry, I just- I might be able to tell. If I can get a sense of the resonance, if- if this Architect is what took Archie, too.” And his eyes flash, dangerously.
: “Aye. I know little of the Mask, I’m afraid.” He smiles, grimly, fangily. “But I suspect that he will have taken all of us. Why, I do not know. But…mm. I have suspicions.” He exhales. “Caion. Our worlds were not separate, to start. I have no proof, but…why else would we sing of mountains, and the seas, when we never have had any, not in any of our cycles? The Mask confirms this. Your aunt knows of wolves, but I doubt any actually live upon this world.” He shakes his head. “My world is trapped. Caged, in an endless cycle of death and flourishing. Yours suffers because open fear and sorrow cannot be borne. The Beast is losing the moons that light it. I think…” He shakes his head. “I do not think we were meant to be apart.”
gives Wolf a Look, and hums, under his breath. “…talk to Archie about this. He’s got a theory, it ought to be him.” He beams. “Of -course- he was right, though. I always believed in him. But.” He leans, again, against the nearest surface, he’s always in -motion-, when he’s thinking, even if it’s just his foot kicking lightly, or fiddling with the sleeve of his robe. “I think you’re right, though. About this world. About the others, too.”
: “And, we should… you -all- ought to meet Solei, soon. They’ll want to know- well. They’ll want to know a lot of things.”
: “Mm.” He nods. “Caion…” He shakes his head. “Caion, I do not know what will come of this. I cannot. But if we succeed…nothing will the be same, anymore. I do not know if it will be better, or worse. But that which we have known…will change.” A heavy exhale. “But I believe it must. As I told my companions, on Almachadta. This is not stability. This is stasis. This is a cage.” His chin lifts, in calm defiance. “And I will not suffer my world to be trammeled.”
looks at Wolf, and there are a thousand things he’s -not- saying, flickering through his eyes, and one hand makes a fist and he doesn’t bother to unclench it, and what he does say is: “Hope over fear. Anything could happen.”
: “Yes. Better an uncertain hope than a certain doom.” And he smiles, at that. “Hope over fear. You know…” His smile goes…almost teasing, his eyes heavy-lidded, and there’s a sing-song quality to his words. “There is a Song that follows you, my friend, and it bears those words. Hold fast to them, o truth-seeker. Grasp your flame and hold it tight.” He looks directly at Caion, his face suddenly stern, but…serene. “The time is coming, for you to speak.”
lets out a breath like he got punched in the gut, but… pleasantly, somehow, staring at Wolf briefly before looking in- in some other direction for slightly less than a second before looking back at Wolf. “What -are- you?” Immediately: “Don’t answer that, I want to figure it out for myself.” He shakes his head, as if to clear it. “I should…” -wherever that sentence was going, it doesn’t make it there in one piece.
flushes, shakes his head a bit, to clear it. “For, uh, forgive me.” He clears his throat. “There’s…” He smiles, wryly, but…uncertainly. “There are things I have always been sensitive to, the…Song…but…” He looks troubled. “My words carry weight beyond what I am used to.”
waves a hand, vaguely, and- it’s hard to tell when a Naiad is flushing but he might also be. “Nothing to forgive. Just…” -something, within the privacy of his own mind, amuses him, and he smiles. “Well, I understand why you had my Aunt’s attention last night during the dance.” A slight almost-smirk. “There’s a weight to your words, that reminds me of hers. And then something beyond that, and I’m not going to have a better handle on that without precision instruments in the Academy and patience on your part beyond that which I feel appropriate to ask, frankly, so I’ll hold to hypotheses for the time being.”
smiles wryly. “Your aunt and I have similar…roles, I think. Though the exact shapes are different. It is my duty to guide and guard, as it is hers.” He laughs quietly. “I feel I have given you much to think about, amidst many other such worries and wonders. I shall try not to burden you with more…for a while, at least. But I pray what I have shared may be useful.” He starts towards the “door,” then pauses to squeeze the other’s shoulder. “Be at ease, my friend. You did not see ill. You see true.“
laughs. “All these years, I’ve wondered. I want to talk to Salme, too, I…” He looks thoughtful. “Well. Like I said, we’ve got time. I think I need to… go watch the waves until I’ve my eidesis back in hand, though.” He bows, towards Wolf, a bow you’ve seen people direct towards Silver-Throat, although a little less formal, maybe, and then steps through the iridescent threshold.
watches him go….then slumps onto a couch with a forearm over his eyes. “Goddess Bright,” he mutters, to no one in particular. “What am I doing? Do I have the right to say such things?” He sighs, and looks up at the sun, and stays silently there for a long time.
And scene!