The tension behind her ratchets up notch after notch - Cyan is well aware of the opinions of the others with regards to Right and Left.

In this one thing, she cares not at all.  Let them think what they like - she does not blame Dorian or Devlin for their feelings.  But Right and Left helped keep her sane, helped her question her loyalties.  Helped her.  And simultaneously they, themselves, grew and changed.

They are only what they were bred to be, much as I am, myself.  And yet if I can seize my own destiny, if I can make an attempt to strike out for myself, can they not, as well?  They may never be creatures of compassion, of caring.  But they think.  They consider.  They have transcended what they once were.  Much as she, herself, has done.

Her smile grows at the mention of Left, and relief fills her.  "Well done," Cyan whispers.  But the expression freezes at the mention of Harbonah, freezes then fades, and her body tightens for an instant before growing dangerously relaxed.  Fury boils in her veins, followed by a hot, acidic tide of hatred.

"Say on," replies the Warrior in Jet and Gold, her onyx eyes fixed on the deadly wheel before her.  "Tell us the news of Harry."  A wintery smile touches her lips, its cool amusement belying hate's burning furnace within her chest.

+ YES, GENERAL.  HOW/^EVE/R, I CAN DO BETT/_{ER THA}/N MERE/_{LY SPEA}/KING OF THIS.  OB/^SER/VE... +

From the invisible pocket at the Archon's core, a crystaline shard appears, drifting out slowly, before halting, to hover between Cyan and the Archon.  Colours, mostly the shades of flame, bleed out from it, and an image gradually takes shape in the air.  A living image, filled with movement.

An Archon, in a room of flame...

+ THAT ONE IS SA/^LAMI/EL. +


OOC: the remainder of Right's recording can be seen here: "link to a message in "Amber: Shadow Wars"", after which, please return to this thread.
This message was last edited by the GM at 19:42, Tue 25 Sept 2007.

"Well," Devlin says when the vision fades, "it seems we know what Harbonoh's plans are now; which may remove the need to enter his stronghold." As he speaks he continues to stand dead still, still staring intently at the thing that brought the message. He almost begins to consider giving it some consideration, that it can be trusted, then doesn't.

The man has been giving much thought to a great many things over the course of the last night and day, perhaps it is time to share some of those thoughts.

"If you will listen," He begins, "I have some thoughts that may have some effect on our plans." Finally he removes his eyes from the spinning blades to look at Cyan. "When we have finished our business with... " He was about to spit out the word "That", but decides against it. Cyan gave it some measure of trust. No matter what he thought of the archon he still respected Cyan and her opinions. Instead he says, in an almost civil voice " ... Right."

Then he falls back into silence and returns to studying the inner workings of a danioti.

Cyan watches and listens in silence, observing the discussion between the archons with porcelain features - pale and emotionless.  Berd, for his part, crouches atop her pack, his burning eyes fixed on the scene before them.  He, too, holds himself motionless.

Finally the awful vista fades.  Cyan turns ebony eyes from the empty space to Right.  For a long moment she does not speak, remembering Harbonah's laughter from times past.  Finally her mouth, a slash across her pale skin, cracks open.  "Well done," the General whispers.  "Well done, Right."

She knew she would be targeted.  She knew Dorian already was.  To hear it...well, the point has been hammered home most effectively.

For the moment she holds off answering Devlin.  "Right - are there Nephillim in Harbonah's army?  Or has he found a better way to ensure the loyalty of his followers?"

Listening to the two Archons snipe at each other in their awful voices brings back memories she would rather not have.  The General presses them aside and shoots a quick glance at Berd.  The little dragon curls up atop the pack, his burning eyes narrowing, and Cyan turns her attention to Devlin.

"I would hear your thoughts, Devlin.  But know that I remain convinced it is necessary to enter the stronghold.  This information, while of critical import, is insufficient - we need further knowledge, and we may yet find something of use in Harbonah's fortress.  It might be an object, it might be critical pieces to the puzzle, it might be an opportunity."

Cyan's praise brings a note of pride to the Archon's broken voice, as it continues, + TO THE BEST OF MY KN/^OWLE/DGE, THERE ARE STI/_{LL NEPHE}/LIM IN THE ARMY, THOU/^{GH RECENT DEV}/ELOPMENTS MAY HAVE RED/^{UCED THE}/IR NUMBERS.  HARBONA/_{H HAS ORD}/ERED GREATER VI/^GILA/NCE AMONG THOSE PLACE/^{D IN AUTH}/ORITY, SINCE THE DEFEAT OF THE F/_ORCE/S AT CHARYK.  FOR THE MO/^{MENT, THO}/SE WHO ARE EVEN SU/_SPECT/ED ARE DEST/^{ROYED IMMED}/IATELY. +

The Archon spins, still with the discordant clashing of blades, a far cry from the quiet whirring hum of previous days.  Attention seems to shift to Devlin for a moment.  + THE GEN/_ERA/L IS CORRECT... HARBONAH's PLANS ARE STILL CON/_CEAL/ED.  THE ARMY HAS BE/_{EN EXPA}/NDED, YES, BUT IT HAS BEE/_{N EXPAN}/DING FOR SOME TIME.  THE ONLY /^REA/L CHANGE IS THAT, PREV/_IOUSL/Y, IT WAS DED/_ICAT/ED TO CON/^QUE/ST, AND ENDING RE/^SISTAN/CE WHERE IT WAS FOUND. +

+ NOW, HARBO/_{NAH HAS DEC}/IDED THAT CHANCE DI/^SCOVE/RY IS NOT ENOUGH.  A PORTION OF TH/^{E ARM}/Y HAS BEEN COM/_MANDED/ TO SEEK OUT POSSI/^{BLE R}/_ESISTA/NCE, AND EN/^{D IT BEFO}/RE IT CAN CA/_{USE PROBL}/EMS. +

Back to Cyan again, and, + THIS, OF CO/_{URSE, ME}/ANS THAT YOU ONLY FACED ARCH/^{ONS BEFO}/RE, WHEN YOU INT/^ERFE/RED IN THEIR PROJ/_{ECTS.  IN FU}/TURE, THEY WILL BE H/_UNTI/NG YOU.  YOU MI/^{GHT ME}/ET THEM IN PLACES WH/_{ERE YOU DO}/ NOT EXPECT TH/^EM. +

+ ^THI/S IS WHY WE DEC/_{IDED YO}/U NEEDED TO BE W/_ARNE/D. +

"Mr. Right?" The girl drifts closer, eyes bright with curiosity and study. She extends a hand, as if to caress the whirring blades, but then thinks better of it. Something rend even spirit. "Before you go, would you allow an experiment? I know it might be, perhaps ... uncomfortable ... for you, but it will help us. On Charyk, my father--" she gestures to Dorian--"discovered a way to obscure the sight of your kind. He believed it merely left a hole or gap in your perceptions. We would be honored if you would permit him a few minutes to hone the effect?"

Behind her, Dorian merely waits. Her request invokes no surprise in him, as if he had known her request from the start. Apparently, she is to be the diplomat in the family.

The damaged Archon falls silent, save for the  discordant sounds that it makes, simply by being.  Sparks shower from it, occasionally, as errant blades strike each other.  Then it speaks again.  + I DO NOT KN/_{OW YO}/U.  HOWEVER, I WILL PE/_{RMIT TH}/IS... EXP/^ERIME/NT... ON TWO CO/_NDITIO/NS. +

+ FIRST.  I AM SW/^OR/N TO SE/^{RVE THE GEN}/ERAL.  I WI/_{LL NOT PE}/RM/^I/T AN/^YTHI/NG THAT MIGHT P/_ER/MAN/^ENTL/Y DA/_{MAGE M}/Y ABI/^{LITY TO DO TH}/AT. +

+ SEC/^ON/D... + and then there is a long pause, as if the Archon is searching for words, + I WI/_{LL ALL}/OW THIS ONLY I/^{F THE GENER}/AL SAYS T/_{HAT IT IS ALL}/OWED. +

Harry, it seems, is tightening up his security.  Not so good for the Nephillim, but simultaneously it might cause irritation and discontent in his own armies.  There is a price one pays for the use of force and fear to control.  The General ponders the situation thoughtfully.

"We will certainly be upon the lookout for roving bands of hunters."  Her lips thin.  If they come at the group in numbers, Berd will likely detect them ahead of time (and possibly Dorian, as well).  Should they seek out the group in small units, they can be destroyed.  However, the possibility of destroying the entire scouting party would be minimal - one escaped archon would disrupt whatever work the Questors carried out, as they would have to flee, immediately.

More would come, and quickly - in such numbers they could not be fought.

"Grave news," she mutters, shooting a look at Berd.  The drake blinks several times.

The Warrior's eyebrows rise at Galatea's request, and she slowly nods.  Yes.  Better to remain hidden than fight - outright battle against the Archons is a losing prospect.  She shoots an inquiring look to Dorian first, then steps forward.

"Yes.  I agree to this, bearing in mind Right's condition.  Whatever shape this experiment takes, it shall not bring him to any harm.  If it appears to do so, it must be halted.  Immediately."

Devlin continues to stand still as a stone, to wait, and to study. Even he can see that the danioti is damaged. He looks more specifically at where it is damaged; he wonders if he could repair the damage. Not to ease the danioti's suffering, but just to see if he was capable.

But that would mean forging a mental link with the thing and he's not sure that's something he would ever do voluntarily. Still, it would go a long way toward increasing his knowledge of it.

For now Devlin remains silent.

The child's eyes turn from the archon to the general and back several times, as the slight smile plays across her face.

"No harm, of course, but ... I think we'll pass on the experiment. I'm sure time will provide plenty of opportunity, anyway. We are ready when everyone else is."

Dorian's features harden around the edges; a subtle shift one would only notice if they knew him well. Somewhere inside the fathomless dark eyes, a spark sputters and burns out.

"Yes," he says. "I'm sure we'll not be short on opportunity.There's no need to slow down our plans right now, is there. How long, until we depart?"

Cyan stands still for a long moment, considering Dorian and Galatea's response.  She studies the pair for a long moment, then lets out her breath in a small sigh.  A shrug follows, twinned with a concerned nod.  "As you wish.  Aaron stands ready to join us, I believe.  I only need to complete the palanquet, then we can be away.  My thanks, Right, for the timely warning."  For a brief instant she considers something, then shakes her head.  "Will you be safe, Right?  Out of danger during your trip home?"

Berd keeps to his silence, waiting.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:14, Mon 01 Oct 2007.

A small pause, then the corner of Cyan's mouth twitches up.  "And Aaron..."  She reaches out one hand, and rainbow energies flare about it.  So long since she has seen those brilliant colours, and suddenly she remembers the waterfall, rainbow light about her, a tiny, fluttering drake gazing down at her with burning eyes.

'Bird!  Bird!'

Her fingers clasp, and she pulls.

"...is here."

Right consider their decisions, in silence, for a long moment.  + I AM... SOR/^{RY?  IS TH}/AT THE P/_ROPE/R WORD?  I A/^{M SOR}/RY THAT I CA/^{N NOT HEL}/P YOU IN THIS E/_XPERIME/NT. +  Then, without moving, his attention seems to shift back to Cyan.

+ I WILL FO/_{LLOW A}/N INDI/^R/ECT ROUTE, GE/_NER/AL.  I NEED TO VI/^{SIT A PL}/ACE WHERE I CAN RE/_{PAIR MYS}/ELF.  I BELI/_{EVE I SA}/W SUCH A PLACE O/^{N MY WA}/Y HERE.  THO/_USAN/DS OF MET/^{AL VEHI}/CLES, IN ALL COLOURS, PI/_{LED UP IN A COMPO}/UND.  SOME OF THE CO/^{LOURS WERE V}/ERY... IN/_TEREST/ING. +

"You don't need to apologize, Mr. Right," the child says. "It's just not the time for such experiments. There was ... new information, of a sort. Besides, we believe you might be too powerful for the experiment to have any sway."

...and Aaron appeared, seemingly none the worse for wear. He paused beside Cyan, his hand still in hers, then released it from her grasp of his own accord.

He took a breath, savoring the pause, the oneness that spoke of both loss and achievement. Ilse was a weight on his back, and a weapon. That was all the sword was, now.

Aaron nodded to Dorian, passed a curious look in the directions of Galatea and one of recognition at seeing Devlin, but it is upon Cyan, and by extension Right, that he turns his attentions.

"What news? Short and sweet, please," he requested, a half-smile following shortly thereafter.

New information?  How curious.  Cyan, however, holds her tongue for the moment.  Had Dorian wanted people to know, he would have told them.  If he and Galatea withold, they no doubt have a good reason.  She trusts them.

"Very good, Right," the Warrior responds, falling back into habitual diction.  "Don't put yourself in any danger for an extra bit of cherry-red, hm?"  A smile quirks one corner of her mouth.  "I'd like to see the final result someday."

Then - Aaron.  He materializes, hand clasped to hers.  Cyan lets him go and steps back, sensing only that something is different in his bearing.  He seems lighter, somehow, in a curious way she cannot quite define.  "Short and sweet?"  One eyebrow quirks above her onyx eyes; she blinks, and colour swims into them.  "Right brings us dire news - Harbonah now sends his army far and wide, in search of us.  Dorian and I are to be brought before him - alive."  For an instant her eyes lighten, the colour leeching away, but it floods back a moment later, blood ruby in her pale face.  "All others are to be slain."

She grimaces.  "Harry can be terribly simple in his desires," the General notes.

+ HIS DES/^{IRES AR}/E, INDE/_{ED, SI}/MPLE.  HE S/^IMPL/Y WISHES TO R/_{ULE THE}/ UNIVERSE. +

There is a sound like the tearing of metal, and the slow grinding of stone.  When it ends, Right speaks again, + WITH YO/^{UR PERMI}//_SSIO/N, GE/_NE/RAL, I SHA/^{LL DE}/PART NOW.  I B/_ELI/EVE THER/_{E WAS SO}//^{ME CHER}/RY RED, NO/_{W THA}/T YOU ME/^NT/ION IT. +

There is a sudden screech, and a flurry of sparks, and something thuds into the ground beneath the Archon.

"Interestingly," Dorian notes, "he'll have a difficult time finding the real Dorian. And if I am captured, he would find himself facing more Dorians than he may expect."

He smirks.

"Though it would not be pleasant, I have long since prepared for that eventuality."

Instinct screams at him that he shouldn't speak so openly in front of th enemy, but he does it despite himself. He does it for Cyan. She trusts Right.

Yet, there is one more thing he must do. Not for the struggle to regain the universe, not even for Cyan, but for himself.

"And, Right. For whatever it is worth ... the destruction of, Hosk was it? I know it won't bring them back, but ... I apologize to you and your kind. I crossed a boundary that I should not have crossed. It was, indeed, evil of me. I promise that kind of destruction will never happen again, so long as I am able to stop it."
This message was last edited by the player at 21:59, Thu 04 Oct 2007.

Aaron smiled sadly at the news. He had made the right choice then, at the right time. It was not the perfection that Arianne had sought, but there was a perfection of time and place here that could still be appreciated.

"You both have my sword, if that's any consolation." He said to Cyan and Dorian. "Even better, Arianne is in the process of setting up a... retreat for any of us who need to escape Harbonah at speed. I don't know how much time we have left, but it shouldn't take her long to prepare and intitiate our defense."

With that out of the way, he nodded. He knew also that it didn't matter who was in company as he spoke of Arianne and their proposed defenses. Harbonah would find Aaron and everything he loved one way or another... but there were other factors behind it as well. If they were being spied upon, then let the enemy think that he was lax with his commentary. To their own peril.

"What are your plans?"

Dorian and Aaron seem to not notice the fact that the danioti is falling apart in their midst, or perhaps they were ignoring it. While Devlin was listening to their conversation he was also studying the creature and he did not miss it.

The man takes his eyes off the thing to look at Cyan, one eyebrow raised.

He also relaxes a bit... in it's condition the archon seems not much of a threat; the black armor begins to shrink back as Nightbrand returns to normal state.

Still he says nothing and waits, if only because he's not sure what to do as he begins to doubt his own feelings.

Sudden concern flickers on Cyan's face at the sound from Right, and she bends down inches from the whirling blades, unafraid, to pick up a bent piece of canary yellow metal, about the size of a dagger-blade.  Her lips thinning, she stares up at Right.

Her hard expression softens a touch at Dorian's apology, and she shoots the dark sorcerer a grateful look.  Boundaries.  Haven't they all crossed the, now?  Berd, long ago.  Dorian, with Hosk.  Aaron with his own flesh and blood.  Devlin...who knows what boundaries he crossed that leave this darkness in his eyes?  And herself, of course.

"Right, go swiftly and carefully to your graveyard of metal.  You bleed - this is not good."  Deformed blades clatter against each other, occasionally ejecting from the whole.  Given time, Right may bleed away to only a few, forlorn edges, whirling about an empty hub.  She will not see that happen.

"I would rather not have you captured at all, Dorian," she notes over her shoulder.  "I prefer you as you are now."  Slowly, the General stands.  "My thanks, Aaron - as always.  And thanks to Arianne, as well...you say she is not here?  Preparing something?  Where, then?  And how?"  One hand indicates Ilsefravnir, upon Aaron's back.

"My plans?"  Her grin is feral.  "Well, I happen to have here an open door into Lord Harry's fortress.  I was wondering if you, Dorian and Devlin might consider accompanying me for a visit?  We might snoop about, stick our hands in the silver, and read a few diaries.  After all, Harbonah has put so much effort into inviting us for a visit..."

Berd's smile holds a thousand daggers.

"Why disappoint?"

+ AS YOU CO/^{MMAND, GEN}/ERAL. +

The Archon starts to vanish, the damaged blades turning what should have been a smooth, silent translation into the Underflow into a raucous shredding of reality.  Then the fading stops, and Right returns for a moment.

+ I A/^{LMOST FOR}/GOT - AND I BELI/_{EVE THAT LE}/FT WOULD ALSO WANT ME TO GI/^{VE YOU THI}/S ADM/^ONITI/ON, GENERAL - BE CA/_REF/UL. +

The creature of metal resumes its fading, and finally is gone...

As Cyan mentions her plan, Aaron exhibited a grin very reminiscent of his olden ways, the ways that used to make Jack and Cyan both nervous when they were around him. His eyes glittered with excitement, flicker-changing autumn colors, the imprint of San Anyn.

"I've always wanted to invade a heavilly defended fortress," he said, and his excitement seemed to fade slightly as he turned to her other request. A sigh escaped him.

"Arianne, yes," he responded, and he paused. "We gain another hand in another world, to assist us in any way she's able."

He unsheathed the sword, white on one edge, black on the other. He crouched, impaled it into the ground between his knees, running a finger along the flat of the flexible weapon.

"She deserved her freedom, more than she argued she did, anyway. Keeping her beside me was weakening her, and her distance from the world of her birth was making it even worse than that. But she lives now, preparing San Anyn, preparing the Sjardring Forge, for the inevitable conflict with Harbonah's forces. Those are just the basic facts. It's much deeper than that, but we don't have the time, and I don't wish to try your patience, friends."

He balanced the sword between the fingers of his right hand and rose, inhaling and exhaling.

"Ancient rites and all that, Cyan. Awakening a woman who was sleeping for... well, long enough so that time became nothing more than a concept to her. Now she understands the madness of barely-restrained guilt, and the true price of absolute genocide."

But even as Aaron spoke it, he felt his inner self replacing the 'she understands' in that statement with 'I understand', and it pained him for a few, long seconds.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:04, Fri 12 Oct 2007.

"Likewise," the General whispers to her one-time bodyguard.  She raises a hand in a salute, silently wishing both Left and Right well.

Berd glances her way for a moment, and Cyan ducks her head, dropping her sapphire eyes in embarassment.  The drake snorts out a puff of multicoloured, shimmering smoke, then launches himself into the air to take up residence upon her shoulder.  There, he begins carefully preening himself, rubbing at smooth scales with his nose.

"You shall have your wish, Aaron," Cyan replies with wry amusement, before shooting a glance at Dorian and Galatea.  The little girl worries her...not Galatea, precisely, but the wisdom of bringing her into the fortress of the Archons.  While Cyan does not know her upbringing at Samhain (and admits it must have been far from what she considers the norm), she feels a twinge of unease at the thought of taking a child into Harbonah's monolithic refuge.

Still, it is her decision, and Dorian's, as her father.

Then her thin brows come together in a bemused frown.  It is so very difficult to imagine Aaron without his shadowy soul-mate.  "So now you are alone...and yet, you maintain yourself," she states delicately.  An attempt at diplomacy, one which Cyan abandons a moment later.  "Aaron, will you hold to your control?  I realize that I, of all people, am the worst to be questioning this, but I must know."

A woman?  There comes a splintered memory of a laughing sorceress in Aaron's mind.  "And whom does she awaken, Aaron?" Cyan inquires carefully.
This message was last edited by the player at 11:12, Wed 10 Oct 2007.