FloatingAroundSpace
Three Thousand Club
There is a crack in everything, that's how light gets in
Private between
FloatingAroundSpace
and
Mullen
Private between
FloatingAroundSpace
and
Mullen
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Fantasy Fracture
- Thread starter FloatingAroundSpace
- Start date
Mullen
I finally changed this.
The day had been everything that an average resident of the capital would describe as 'beautiful': a warm sun beating down from a cloudless sky, no breeze, no humidity, and given that it was the middle of summer it had been long too. Plenty of time to enjoy such pleasant weather, for any of those average people who had not just worked the fields all day. Every one of those things that made the weather for the day like something from a storybook were everything that Corban hated about days like today. No clouds meant that warm sun was oppressively hot and relentless. No breeze meant even the wind offered no respite. No humidity meant you became dehydrated even more quickly, and often never even realized until heat stroke had already crept up and had a handle on you. The length, that he could not complain about: he needed all of the time and light he could get with his father to make sure that the field was properly tilled for planting.
The day had been everything that Corban would describe as 'miserable'.
He brought the back of his hand to his brow as the sun started to creep past the treeline and shook his head. "It'll be dark soon, we should head back."
"That's a lie and you know it," his father responded gruffly. "Sunset doesn't happen in an instant." Corban deflated at his father's words, nearly collapsing with exhaustion just from the sound of them as the meaning took hold: more work. He steeled himself and stood up straight, gripping his hoe as he moved onto continue tilling. It only took a moment before his father grabbed Corban's arm to stop him. "-We should head back, though. I'm tired and there's no sense in making yourself useless for tomorrow. Exhaustion's a near fatal illness if not treated with plenty of rest."
"My thoughts exactly," Corban responded as he lifted the tool over his shoulder to let it rest there.
The day had been everything that Corban would describe as 'miserable'.
He brought the back of his hand to his brow as the sun started to creep past the treeline and shook his head. "It'll be dark soon, we should head back."
"That's a lie and you know it," his father responded gruffly. "Sunset doesn't happen in an instant." Corban deflated at his father's words, nearly collapsing with exhaustion just from the sound of them as the meaning took hold: more work. He steeled himself and stood up straight, gripping his hoe as he moved onto continue tilling. It only took a moment before his father grabbed Corban's arm to stop him. "-We should head back, though. I'm tired and there's no sense in making yourself useless for tomorrow. Exhaustion's a near fatal illness if not treated with plenty of rest."
"My thoughts exactly," Corban responded as he lifted the tool over his shoulder to let it rest there.
FloatingAroundSpace
Three Thousand Club
Strange looks were cast at the woman who had wandered into the village, a sword hanging by her hip. Its hilt was covered in golden thread, glinting in the light, attracting attention as it was. The next thing they noticed was the armor; but what appeared to be fabric, also coated in golden thread weaved through, making it clear that she was of someone of import. Many individuals muttered to themselves, staring at the woman as she walked by, one hand wrapped around the reigns of the latest horse she had picked up on her journey over. She towered over most individuals, gaze sharp as she pierced through the crowd in an effort to see something, or perhaps, someone.
Yin herself wasn't sure what exactly she had been looking for. Given a simple description of what she could surmount would be more than half the peasantry, she had been sent off on a glorified fetch-quest, to bring back to the bishop someone who could save them all. She was thankful that the letter detailing the prophecy had arrived to her before she had taken the long, arduous journey back to the Church, having already been on the road for months as it were, escorting various individuals to their proper places. She thought that she would have throttle the bishop when she saw him next for making her race so far away.
The villagers were casting her ugly looks now and she simply raised an eyebrow, hand moving to the hilt of her sword, sending them scattering in fear. It was mildly amusing.
But she had other things to worry about.
"Excuse me," she said to a shopkeeper who had paused to stare at her, jaw agape. "I have been directed here on... legend," she said, teeth bared in an almost-grin.
"L-legend?" the man stammered, looking ready to piss himself out of fear as he gazed at her, taking in the large weapon, the armor, the horse who even brayed in frustration.
"Omen," Yin suggested.
The shopkeeper continued to look fearful.
"I take it you do not enjoy the Church of the Light here," she said.
At that, the shopkeeper's face went through a myriad of expressions, a mix of hatred and his still present fear with hesitation thrown into the mix. Yin would have laughed, but she did need information out of the man.
Her quest to find the mysterious prophet who was to usher in some sort of new age or some other bullshit that bishops spat when they went into their strange convulsions had led her to this small town, rumors abounding that someone here was full of magic. Cursed magic, to boot.
"I am sure your mind is putting pieces together," she continued. "I have heard that you have a... member of society who is part of this unfavorable group. I can take him off of your hands. For good."
The shopkeeper stared at her uncertainty.
"If I wanted to lob off your head, I would have done it," she snapped, patience wearing thin. "Do not make this harder than it has to be."
A single hand pointed in a vague direction. She gave a curt note, dug out a gold coin, and handed it to him.
"For your troubles."
She left him gaping at her once more.
Several more nuggets of gold later, she found herself in front of a meager looking home that seemed ready to collapse in a breath.
"Always one for surprises," she muttered, and raised a fist to knock on the door, giving three resounding taps.
Yin herself wasn't sure what exactly she had been looking for. Given a simple description of what she could surmount would be more than half the peasantry, she had been sent off on a glorified fetch-quest, to bring back to the bishop someone who could save them all. She was thankful that the letter detailing the prophecy had arrived to her before she had taken the long, arduous journey back to the Church, having already been on the road for months as it were, escorting various individuals to their proper places. She thought that she would have throttle the bishop when she saw him next for making her race so far away.
The villagers were casting her ugly looks now and she simply raised an eyebrow, hand moving to the hilt of her sword, sending them scattering in fear. It was mildly amusing.
But she had other things to worry about.
"Excuse me," she said to a shopkeeper who had paused to stare at her, jaw agape. "I have been directed here on... legend," she said, teeth bared in an almost-grin.
"L-legend?" the man stammered, looking ready to piss himself out of fear as he gazed at her, taking in the large weapon, the armor, the horse who even brayed in frustration.
"Omen," Yin suggested.
The shopkeeper continued to look fearful.
"I take it you do not enjoy the Church of the Light here," she said.
At that, the shopkeeper's face went through a myriad of expressions, a mix of hatred and his still present fear with hesitation thrown into the mix. Yin would have laughed, but she did need information out of the man.
Her quest to find the mysterious prophet who was to usher in some sort of new age or some other bullshit that bishops spat when they went into their strange convulsions had led her to this small town, rumors abounding that someone here was full of magic. Cursed magic, to boot.
"I am sure your mind is putting pieces together," she continued. "I have heard that you have a... member of society who is part of this unfavorable group. I can take him off of your hands. For good."
The shopkeeper stared at her uncertainty.
"If I wanted to lob off your head, I would have done it," she snapped, patience wearing thin. "Do not make this harder than it has to be."
A single hand pointed in a vague direction. She gave a curt note, dug out a gold coin, and handed it to him.
"For your troubles."
She left him gaping at her once more.
Several more nuggets of gold later, she found herself in front of a meager looking home that seemed ready to collapse in a breath.
"Always one for surprises," she muttered, and raised a fist to knock on the door, giving three resounding taps.
Mullen
I finally changed this.
Another day down with many more ahead. It felt like this time of year only got busier with each day that passed, but that was with good reason. Missed days meant missed output, less food on the table, less excess for bartering or selling. They had put in their work and tomorrow they would do so again. There was little to look forward to at the end of the day that did not remind Corban exactly how similar that all-too-close tomorrow would be, and the next, and the next after that. With some effort he adjusted the tool slung over his shoulder as he walked in stride with his father.
This too was familiar for Corban. Silence. That impossible, grating silence as they walked together back to their house. What was there to discuss? What more was there to say? They had had years of farming to talk about all of the intricacies of where to plant what, how the day had been, what tomorrow would be like. There was no discussing the work that was upcoming since they both just knew the next step that would be taken. And yet with every step closer to their home they made, the more the burden of the day that weighed him down sloughed off Corban's shoulders and renewed his vigor.
Evenings were his time to relax. Usually head to the barn and read. He had managed to get a new book from town during their last trip - new to him at least. The pages were well-worn and the spine was cracked, nearly falling apart, but the story it told was new. That was what mattered. They walked past the barn and he could not help but steal a glance at it as they walked by, causing his father to shake his head. That was not about the reading, not about how Corban spent his time. It was about the ability to read so late into the night without using their precious candles. That was what merited the contempt. It was also why they had never been close even though they were father and son.
As they arrived at their meager home Corban shrugged the hoe off and placed it against the doorframe as always so he would remember to bring it to the barn after dinner. Speaking of, if the home was considered meager then the meal was abysmal. Grains, heated with water, nothing to flavor it. Enough to fill you up, but never make you content. He let his father walk through first to their waiting dinner and nodded slightly to his mother as she finished setting their places. She nodded curtly back.
Same as usual. A farmhand who lived there, not a son.
It had stopped bothering him a long time ago. That was what he told himself, at least. A lie that he kept repeating. He sat himself at the table in his usual spot and had barely enough time to start eating before there was a harsh knocking at the door. Expectant looks came from his parents and he pushed himself from the table to answer. The floorboards creaked with effort from the movement, a crescendo for the door that creaked in turn as he swung it open and was met by just about the last kind of person he expected.
Glad in armor, dangerous looking, and clearly from the church. There had been no serious presence from them for years in this area, and yet here was someone clearly on a mission. "Well," he exclaimed simply, admiring her armor a moment. "I can only assume you're here for a reason, and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't curious. What can I help you with?"
This too was familiar for Corban. Silence. That impossible, grating silence as they walked together back to their house. What was there to discuss? What more was there to say? They had had years of farming to talk about all of the intricacies of where to plant what, how the day had been, what tomorrow would be like. There was no discussing the work that was upcoming since they both just knew the next step that would be taken. And yet with every step closer to their home they made, the more the burden of the day that weighed him down sloughed off Corban's shoulders and renewed his vigor.
Evenings were his time to relax. Usually head to the barn and read. He had managed to get a new book from town during their last trip - new to him at least. The pages were well-worn and the spine was cracked, nearly falling apart, but the story it told was new. That was what mattered. They walked past the barn and he could not help but steal a glance at it as they walked by, causing his father to shake his head. That was not about the reading, not about how Corban spent his time. It was about the ability to read so late into the night without using their precious candles. That was what merited the contempt. It was also why they had never been close even though they were father and son.
As they arrived at their meager home Corban shrugged the hoe off and placed it against the doorframe as always so he would remember to bring it to the barn after dinner. Speaking of, if the home was considered meager then the meal was abysmal. Grains, heated with water, nothing to flavor it. Enough to fill you up, but never make you content. He let his father walk through first to their waiting dinner and nodded slightly to his mother as she finished setting their places. She nodded curtly back.
Same as usual. A farmhand who lived there, not a son.
It had stopped bothering him a long time ago. That was what he told himself, at least. A lie that he kept repeating. He sat himself at the table in his usual spot and had barely enough time to start eating before there was a harsh knocking at the door. Expectant looks came from his parents and he pushed himself from the table to answer. The floorboards creaked with effort from the movement, a crescendo for the door that creaked in turn as he swung it open and was met by just about the last kind of person he expected.
Glad in armor, dangerous looking, and clearly from the church. There had been no serious presence from them for years in this area, and yet here was someone clearly on a mission. "Well," he exclaimed simply, admiring her armor a moment. "I can only assume you're here for a reason, and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't curious. What can I help you with?"
FloatingAroundSpace
Three Thousand Club
Yin raised a single eyebrow at the man in front of her. He seemed a dime a dozen, one of thousands that she had marched past in an effort to find someone, anyone of import. The horse next to her snorted impatiently, tossing its head in frustration, as if reflecting her own state of inner turmoil at being faced with an individual that was not unique at all.
They did say miracles by the Goddess of Light were difficult to discern at first glance.
His gaze seemed to indicate that he was as surprised to see her as she was to see him. She figured that this area was one untouched by the Church of Light, free from its grasp. The way the common folk glanced at her told her that some victory had been won and some great loss had been suffered in order for them to remain free. She wondered, only briefly, what religion held its grasp over the town, what clergy oversaw the activities and squeezed coin out of those who could not afford it.
"My name is Yin Qi, High Guard of the Church of Light," she said formally, straightening up and removing her hand from where it rested on the hilt of her sword. She wondered if she ought to offer him a bow, given the fact that he was the supposed savior of them all. Then again, he could be some innocuous man, labeled an outsider for no other reason than fright. She had long learned that fear gripped the hearts of many, wise and unwise, and its yoke choked the life out of one too many. She had been in battle, raging against some enemy before, some other that was to be vanquished, only to be told that the enemy was not as perceived, and to never let slip what had truly been seen. More often than not, she would ask for a brief time of leave, to go fishing with her father and sister and stare into the flames of her home, watching the coals be consumed by bright red, never quite caring what it was consuming. She would think how easy it would be to let the darkness consume the land she had been sworn to protect, let it swallow the green hills that had supposedly been touched by light, and to never care again.
She would pick up her sword, her shield, her dagger, her armor, and her life right back up from where she left it.
She knew nothing else, after all.
"I have been directed here on legend," she continued. "And that legend seems to indicate your presence in a role of import to us at the Church of Light. I am asking for either your denial or confirmation in these rumors."
Yin's eyes trailed behind the man to see the back of a figure in the room behind him, potentially a mother or a sibling or perhaps even a partner in life.
"Your answer will decide the fate of the rest of the world as we know it."
If that fucking bishop saw what he said he saw.
They did say miracles by the Goddess of Light were difficult to discern at first glance.
His gaze seemed to indicate that he was as surprised to see her as she was to see him. She figured that this area was one untouched by the Church of Light, free from its grasp. The way the common folk glanced at her told her that some victory had been won and some great loss had been suffered in order for them to remain free. She wondered, only briefly, what religion held its grasp over the town, what clergy oversaw the activities and squeezed coin out of those who could not afford it.
"My name is Yin Qi, High Guard of the Church of Light," she said formally, straightening up and removing her hand from where it rested on the hilt of her sword. She wondered if she ought to offer him a bow, given the fact that he was the supposed savior of them all. Then again, he could be some innocuous man, labeled an outsider for no other reason than fright. She had long learned that fear gripped the hearts of many, wise and unwise, and its yoke choked the life out of one too many. She had been in battle, raging against some enemy before, some other that was to be vanquished, only to be told that the enemy was not as perceived, and to never let slip what had truly been seen. More often than not, she would ask for a brief time of leave, to go fishing with her father and sister and stare into the flames of her home, watching the coals be consumed by bright red, never quite caring what it was consuming. She would think how easy it would be to let the darkness consume the land she had been sworn to protect, let it swallow the green hills that had supposedly been touched by light, and to never care again.
She would pick up her sword, her shield, her dagger, her armor, and her life right back up from where she left it.
She knew nothing else, after all.
"I have been directed here on legend," she continued. "And that legend seems to indicate your presence in a role of import to us at the Church of Light. I am asking for either your denial or confirmation in these rumors."
Yin's eyes trailed behind the man to see the back of a figure in the room behind him, potentially a mother or a sibling or perhaps even a partner in life.
"Your answer will decide the fate of the rest of the world as we know it."
If that fucking bishop saw what he said he saw.
Mullen
I finally changed this.
High guard of the church of light, that was almost enough to scare Corban into any sort of compliance. Almost but not quite. They had not had much of a presence here for years, but they had left enough of an impact that even still people tended to worship in private. Apparently there was enough freedom of movement that one of the church's errand-runner-guards had been sent for someone in their area. His mind had started to race about the possibilities there... seeking out the shaman of one of the more earth-focused belief groups, or perhaps even some greater being of darkness had started to take root? It did not take long before he had his answer on her purpose, and from there it made complete sense.
"Well, if the church was going to send someone I'm surprised it didn't come sooner." Corban stood up straighter, took the time to straighten his dirt-speccled clothes a moment, and nodded. "I can only imagine why the church would have a legend involving the most average farmer in this corner of the world, but if your fields need tilling? I'll answer the call." He nodded past her shoulder, indicating for her to make room, and then pushed past her to pick up the tool he had left previously by the door to put it into the barn. He imagined that, in reality, this was going to go one of two ways: she was here to execute him for profaning the goddess of light with his ability, or was legitimate in her talk. It was hard to tell.
If she was going to try something, he was clearly not going to be a match for her. But with surprised on his side, he could maybe blind her and get a lucky hit in with the hoe. "I don't know what the rumors are, so I'm not sure what I'm confirming or denying here. Believe it or not, most of the people around here? They don't like me. So... what have they said?" He paused a moment before continuing. She seemed an intimidating sort, but at least was not being outwardly threatening. "And what's the plan here if they weren't lying?"
With that he lifted a hand, producing a slight glow from his skin - almost like that of a firefly. "If they told you about this, then here's my confirmation. How does the fate of the world rest on this?"
"Well, if the church was going to send someone I'm surprised it didn't come sooner." Corban stood up straighter, took the time to straighten his dirt-speccled clothes a moment, and nodded. "I can only imagine why the church would have a legend involving the most average farmer in this corner of the world, but if your fields need tilling? I'll answer the call." He nodded past her shoulder, indicating for her to make room, and then pushed past her to pick up the tool he had left previously by the door to put it into the barn. He imagined that, in reality, this was going to go one of two ways: she was here to execute him for profaning the goddess of light with his ability, or was legitimate in her talk. It was hard to tell.
If she was going to try something, he was clearly not going to be a match for her. But with surprised on his side, he could maybe blind her and get a lucky hit in with the hoe. "I don't know what the rumors are, so I'm not sure what I'm confirming or denying here. Believe it or not, most of the people around here? They don't like me. So... what have they said?" He paused a moment before continuing. She seemed an intimidating sort, but at least was not being outwardly threatening. "And what's the plan here if they weren't lying?"
With that he lifted a hand, producing a slight glow from his skin - almost like that of a firefly. "If they told you about this, then here's my confirmation. How does the fate of the world rest on this?"
FloatingAroundSpace
Three Thousand Club
Yin watched the man speak with a steady gaze, trying to discern what it was that made him so special. He, like many other farmers, did not appear overly strong. While they worked long hours in physically demanding jobs, they did not eat as well as the guards of the church did, meaning that she more than likely had more muscle mass than he did. Then again, the bishop had said he had some "great strength within him, gifted by the Goddess of Light herself," so perhaps his frame hid some greater power that he had not tapped into.
She almost laughed out loud when he picked up the hoe. The metal tip of the tool was still coated in dirt and while one could argue that it could be sharpened into a blade, she doubted that he could make it into one within a minute. Furthermore, he had raised it onto his shoulder, probably with the intention of swinging it at her, either downwards onto her head or shoulder, or perhaps to swing it around and embed it into her side. Either way, she knew that he would have to raise both hands to use the tool, giving her more than enough time to seize it if he should try and wrestle it out of his grasp. Her strength outpaced his, no question. And she was wearing armor, after all.
Any thought of attack vanished when she saw the light that came from his skin, both eyebrows shooting up in surprise.
Perhaps legends did have a grain of salt within them.
"Well," Yin said, still caught slightly off guard, "perhaps this will help clarify."
She reached into the sack that she had been hoisting from horse to horse and pulled out a tube made of brass, covered in the same golden patterns that decorated her armor. The top of the tube was capped with a golden symbol of the church pressed into it. Yin unscrewed the cap and pulled out a piece of parchment to reveal the bishop's letter, offering it to the farmhand.
"Nearly six weeks ago I was preparing for my journey back to my home after sending off the Priest of Anthredale to his new lodgings," Yin explained. "I received this letter by messenger as soon as I had climbed atop my horse, sent to me from one of the bishops that sits in a chamber, chanting or whatever it is that they do to bring us prophecies." She inclined her head towards the sheet of paper. "His recounting of what is to come is, well, for lack of a better term, rather dark."
To the most noble of High Guards, the protector of the Great Goddess Herself, Yin Qi,
I hope this letter reaches you before you have had time to make your journey home. You have worked hard and tirelessly to bring lands into the light and much has been asked of you. I understand that you may be desperate to return home, to finally catch some rest and perhaps greet your family again. But I must implore you to journey on further, to work farther into the land. The fate of the world may depend on it.
I write this to you in the depths of night, having been shaken awake from a dream most fierce. A ball of light spoke to me in this dream, the voice of a being thousands of years old that I must have assumed to be the Goddess herself. She told me that she had seen the darkness coming, the terror that awaited us all and told me that she had gifted someone with her power. She said that this person was supposed to be born or brought into the light but alas, we failed. They are waiting for us, somewhere in the dark, and we must bring them back.
The light went out and all I saw was darkness. The stench, dear beloved goddess. I know you fight, noble guard, and I know you practice. I know you have seen the gore of the battlefield and you will see it many more times in the years to come. But I, I have never smelled something so rotten as the stench of men and women dying, rotting as they lived, their flesh draping off their bones as the darkness gnawed away at them. Children cried and screamed, their youthful age sucked away by the gaping maw of gloom.
And when I speak of the darkness, I mean the darkness. No sword cut through it, no army could touch it. It was something beyond our comprehension, something beyond what we know. It was mythic shade, forever hungry. I stood there and watched the destruction for goddess knows how long, watching the world be drawn into the void, watching our long history be wiped away. I wept, unable to stand the destruction that I saw.
As I covered my face with my hands, a great cry went out. Lowering them, I saw a ball of great light descend upon the darkness, a ball of light surrounding a man. He appeared, tall and pale, with dark hair past his shoulders. He lay a hand on a child and she sprung back to life, cheeks rosy once more. Everywhere he touched, the world flew alive again.
I awoke before I could see him clearly but I know what message I must give to you. Find this man, in some fashion. You must, for whatever is coming, we cannot defeat with steel and sword.
She almost laughed out loud when he picked up the hoe. The metal tip of the tool was still coated in dirt and while one could argue that it could be sharpened into a blade, she doubted that he could make it into one within a minute. Furthermore, he had raised it onto his shoulder, probably with the intention of swinging it at her, either downwards onto her head or shoulder, or perhaps to swing it around and embed it into her side. Either way, she knew that he would have to raise both hands to use the tool, giving her more than enough time to seize it if he should try and wrestle it out of his grasp. Her strength outpaced his, no question. And she was wearing armor, after all.
Any thought of attack vanished when she saw the light that came from his skin, both eyebrows shooting up in surprise.
Perhaps legends did have a grain of salt within them.
"Well," Yin said, still caught slightly off guard, "perhaps this will help clarify."
She reached into the sack that she had been hoisting from horse to horse and pulled out a tube made of brass, covered in the same golden patterns that decorated her armor. The top of the tube was capped with a golden symbol of the church pressed into it. Yin unscrewed the cap and pulled out a piece of parchment to reveal the bishop's letter, offering it to the farmhand.
"Nearly six weeks ago I was preparing for my journey back to my home after sending off the Priest of Anthredale to his new lodgings," Yin explained. "I received this letter by messenger as soon as I had climbed atop my horse, sent to me from one of the bishops that sits in a chamber, chanting or whatever it is that they do to bring us prophecies." She inclined her head towards the sheet of paper. "His recounting of what is to come is, well, for lack of a better term, rather dark."
To the most noble of High Guards, the protector of the Great Goddess Herself, Yin Qi,
I hope this letter reaches you before you have had time to make your journey home. You have worked hard and tirelessly to bring lands into the light and much has been asked of you. I understand that you may be desperate to return home, to finally catch some rest and perhaps greet your family again. But I must implore you to journey on further, to work farther into the land. The fate of the world may depend on it.
I write this to you in the depths of night, having been shaken awake from a dream most fierce. A ball of light spoke to me in this dream, the voice of a being thousands of years old that I must have assumed to be the Goddess herself. She told me that she had seen the darkness coming, the terror that awaited us all and told me that she had gifted someone with her power. She said that this person was supposed to be born or brought into the light but alas, we failed. They are waiting for us, somewhere in the dark, and we must bring them back.
The light went out and all I saw was darkness. The stench, dear beloved goddess. I know you fight, noble guard, and I know you practice. I know you have seen the gore of the battlefield and you will see it many more times in the years to come. But I, I have never smelled something so rotten as the stench of men and women dying, rotting as they lived, their flesh draping off their bones as the darkness gnawed away at them. Children cried and screamed, their youthful age sucked away by the gaping maw of gloom.
And when I speak of the darkness, I mean the darkness. No sword cut through it, no army could touch it. It was something beyond our comprehension, something beyond what we know. It was mythic shade, forever hungry. I stood there and watched the destruction for goddess knows how long, watching the world be drawn into the void, watching our long history be wiped away. I wept, unable to stand the destruction that I saw.
As I covered my face with my hands, a great cry went out. Lowering them, I saw a ball of great light descend upon the darkness, a ball of light surrounding a man. He appeared, tall and pale, with dark hair past his shoulders. He lay a hand on a child and she sprung back to life, cheeks rosy once more. Everywhere he touched, the world flew alive again.
I awoke before I could see him clearly but I know what message I must give to you. Find this man, in some fashion. You must, for whatever is coming, we cannot defeat with steel and sword.
Mullen
I finally changed this.
"Clearly you're from the church. You must have boundless faith, handing a letter that anointed to a peasant," Corban said, shaking his head. He took the letter from her gently, in what could have almost been a mocking way to someone unfamiliar with the man's mannerisms, but what was utter sincerity. Everything about this event, what was happening, were things that Corban could have only read about. A knight-errant, coming to collect someone of prophecy to save the world. "I'm not sure how many farmhands you deal with but literacy isn't exactly common." It was hard to tell for certain, that could actually be proof in her favor. Perhaps he had the impetus to learn and educate himself because of some divine intervention, for just this moment.
What a ridiculous notion.
What a ridiculous waste of resources. A case that was probably worth more than their entirely yearly harvest on the farm, carried by someone in a suit of armor worth more than they could hope to make in a lifetime. It occured to him how serious this must actually be to them to put so much ceremony and wealth behind it. There would be no denying this request. "Not only anointed, but verbose. I take it to mean that I'm coming with you then, is that it?" Corban shook his head and turned from the woman to head into the barn. "I don't suppose my opinion matters here, does it?" Corban said softly, handing her back the letter with the same level of care he had taken it.
There was no doubt now that she meant him no harm. On the contrary, she would likely give her life to protect him. There was nothing to fear from her in this moment, and as long as he complied there was nothing for his family to fear either. Not that he would miss them, not that he felt he could deny a calling like this. He put the hoe onto the tool rack and clapped his hands together, sending a small pile of dust fly outward.
"You don't have to worry. If that bishop's letter was even half true, and if that dream was actually referring to me, it'd be downright irresponsible not to go with you. The least I can do is see this bishop in person so he can tell us both we've wasted our time."
What a ridiculous notion.
What a ridiculous waste of resources. A case that was probably worth more than their entirely yearly harvest on the farm, carried by someone in a suit of armor worth more than they could hope to make in a lifetime. It occured to him how serious this must actually be to them to put so much ceremony and wealth behind it. There would be no denying this request. "Not only anointed, but verbose. I take it to mean that I'm coming with you then, is that it?" Corban shook his head and turned from the woman to head into the barn. "I don't suppose my opinion matters here, does it?" Corban said softly, handing her back the letter with the same level of care he had taken it.
There was no doubt now that she meant him no harm. On the contrary, she would likely give her life to protect him. There was nothing to fear from her in this moment, and as long as he complied there was nothing for his family to fear either. Not that he would miss them, not that he felt he could deny a calling like this. He put the hoe onto the tool rack and clapped his hands together, sending a small pile of dust fly outward.
"You don't have to worry. If that bishop's letter was even half true, and if that dream was actually referring to me, it'd be downright irresponsible not to go with you. The least I can do is see this bishop in person so he can tell us both we've wasted our time."
FloatingAroundSpace
Three Thousand Club
Yin raised a single eyebrow at the man's comments. It was true, many farmhands and foot-soldiers didn't know how to read. Her own father had never learned until he married and at that point, it had seemed too late, grasping only the bare minimum. Yin herself had been educated by her own mother, though she knew many of the other children who lived among them in their shared poverty did not have the luxury of books that they had.
"Well, I suppose I was lucky," she said simply, watching him carefully. He moved casually, no sign of fear in him. It was good in a way; it meant that he trusted her to some degree. It also meant that he was completely vulnerable to whoever it may be that wanted to beset them on their way back to the church. She was, after all, a walking beacon of the Church of Light and anyone who dared object to their presence would find glory in slaying her. She had the scars to prove their anger and the beating heart to showcase her own strength.
Yin had the feeling that by the end of the journey, her eyebrows would be the strongest muscles on her face by how much she was using them to express her wariness to the man before him. Perhaps she would eventually be able to switch between the two when raising them. He was a peculiar man, especially so for a lowly farmer. He was smarter than the average farmer, at least; he had shown no outward fear of her when she had appeared and had not attempted to lead her astray when she posed her questions. And he appeared more than willing to join her, having pieced together that "no" was not an answer he had the luxury of giving.
"Then we must leave at once," she said to him. "Tell me, have you ridden a horse before, mister...?"
She allowed herself to trail off, leaving him to fill in his name.
"Well, I suppose I was lucky," she said simply, watching him carefully. He moved casually, no sign of fear in him. It was good in a way; it meant that he trusted her to some degree. It also meant that he was completely vulnerable to whoever it may be that wanted to beset them on their way back to the church. She was, after all, a walking beacon of the Church of Light and anyone who dared object to their presence would find glory in slaying her. She had the scars to prove their anger and the beating heart to showcase her own strength.
Yin had the feeling that by the end of the journey, her eyebrows would be the strongest muscles on her face by how much she was using them to express her wariness to the man before him. Perhaps she would eventually be able to switch between the two when raising them. He was a peculiar man, especially so for a lowly farmer. He was smarter than the average farmer, at least; he had shown no outward fear of her when she had appeared and had not attempted to lead her astray when she posed her questions. And he appeared more than willing to join her, having pieced together that "no" was not an answer he had the luxury of giving.
"Then we must leave at once," she said to him. "Tell me, have you ridden a horse before, mister...?"
She allowed herself to trail off, leaving him to fill in his name.
Mullen
I finally changed this.
"Luck!" Corban barked back at her, a little incredulous. "Again I thought you church-folk were all about faith. Maybe you've just misrepresented by all of the random commoners going on and on about the goddess," he responded, twirling his hand slightly as he spoke. This was the first interaction with someone who was an outsider to this insular farming area so he had honestly not had much exposure to other people and mindsets. Sheltered would be a good way to put it in a way, but in as negative a connotation as could be managed. It led to views essentially being an echo chamber: the church brought nothing but death, was blind in their faith, and Corban was related to it somehow. Now, apparently, at least that was proven true. What did that say for the other points?
Corban turned back to Yin and put his hands on his hips, shrugging his shoulders. "At once isn't a problem, but I'd like to at least gather a few things." He moved one hand from his hip to his chest in a gesture of sincerity. "Corban Zerros. I haven't ridden before, but it seems like there's plenty of time to learn. Just give me a few minutes." With that he walked from the barn, past yin, and into the house where his parents had apparently not touched their meals from the moment he had walked off. Trapped in a sort of rapt silence, their eyes darted to him as he came back through the threshold. He saw a look on them almost instantly that seemed relief. Perhaps they had expected Yin, sword drawn, menace in her eyes. Instead they saw their son.
"Is she gone?" his father asked simply, letting his spoon drop and resting both palms flat on the table.
"Not yet, but she will be in a moment." He moved through the kitchen into their shared sleeping space and grabbed a worn leather rucksack that he used whenever he went to town. He collected a few scraps of clothing so that he would not be limited to a single change of clothes, the book he had just purchased, and a small stash of coins he had squirreled away for the winter. It was worth taking with him, and it was his - not his parents'. Even though his paltry sum meant little compared to the kind of wealth of the church, and likely of Yin by extension, he felt it was important to have. There was no telling if it may come in handy.
From the table, they both watched. Full of questions, but unwilling to speak. Some of the answers were obvious: Yin would be leaving in a moment because she had come for Corban and he was leaving with her. Without a word he slung the bag across a shoulder and walked back through the kitchen to meet up with her. Corban paused at the doorway, leaning into the aged wood a moment, mulling over this situation. He was going to leave with Yin, but it seemed almost a death sentence to this farm. Without his help it just left his parents: far from old, but no longer young. It would be a struggle this year and they lacked the ability to hire on any help. Given the choice he might have even stayed. Saying any of that, giving it breath, would have made it all the more real though. They knew it as well as he did. No sense in starting an argument when neither side would give and the result would still be Corban gone. Instead he took another step, leaving the home and starting down a new path.
Corban turned back to Yin and put his hands on his hips, shrugging his shoulders. "At once isn't a problem, but I'd like to at least gather a few things." He moved one hand from his hip to his chest in a gesture of sincerity. "Corban Zerros. I haven't ridden before, but it seems like there's plenty of time to learn. Just give me a few minutes." With that he walked from the barn, past yin, and into the house where his parents had apparently not touched their meals from the moment he had walked off. Trapped in a sort of rapt silence, their eyes darted to him as he came back through the threshold. He saw a look on them almost instantly that seemed relief. Perhaps they had expected Yin, sword drawn, menace in her eyes. Instead they saw their son.
"Is she gone?" his father asked simply, letting his spoon drop and resting both palms flat on the table.
"Not yet, but she will be in a moment." He moved through the kitchen into their shared sleeping space and grabbed a worn leather rucksack that he used whenever he went to town. He collected a few scraps of clothing so that he would not be limited to a single change of clothes, the book he had just purchased, and a small stash of coins he had squirreled away for the winter. It was worth taking with him, and it was his - not his parents'. Even though his paltry sum meant little compared to the kind of wealth of the church, and likely of Yin by extension, he felt it was important to have. There was no telling if it may come in handy.
From the table, they both watched. Full of questions, but unwilling to speak. Some of the answers were obvious: Yin would be leaving in a moment because she had come for Corban and he was leaving with her. Without a word he slung the bag across a shoulder and walked back through the kitchen to meet up with her. Corban paused at the doorway, leaning into the aged wood a moment, mulling over this situation. He was going to leave with Yin, but it seemed almost a death sentence to this farm. Without his help it just left his parents: far from old, but no longer young. It would be a struggle this year and they lacked the ability to hire on any help. Given the choice he might have even stayed. Saying any of that, giving it breath, would have made it all the more real though. They knew it as well as he did. No sense in starting an argument when neither side would give and the result would still be Corban gone. Instead he took another step, leaving the home and starting down a new path.
FloatingAroundSpace
Three Thousand Club
"In my experience, faith carries," Yin said calmly. "But luck itself is a great force that many do not recognize. A seed dropped in the midst of a path may cause a tree to grow that turns to a forest that may provide shelter for an army in hundreds of years to come. Faith in the Goddess and her many helpers is what has allowed the Church of Light to spread. She works in her mysterious ways, alongside many a helper," Yin continued in an almost-monotone, the usual lecture she gave to doubters growing tired on her tongue.
Then again, whether or not she convinced the man of the great Goddess seemed moot. He was coming with her, after all.
She rearranged the saddle on her horse, ensuring that it could carry two individuals. There was a single piece jutting out from the front used to allow women to ride saddle-side that Corban could use to grip on to. It would probably be best for him to sit behind her, to remain steady.
She turned when she heard him reemerge just as she had managed to pull out a small step for him.
"Get your foot in the stirrup and swing it around," she said, gesturing to the step. "I will sit in front of you and you will hang onto this," she patted the piece, "with your arms around my waist to stay steady. We have a long trip ahead of us."
Then again, whether or not she convinced the man of the great Goddess seemed moot. He was coming with her, after all.
She rearranged the saddle on her horse, ensuring that it could carry two individuals. There was a single piece jutting out from the front used to allow women to ride saddle-side that Corban could use to grip on to. It would probably be best for him to sit behind her, to remain steady.
She turned when she heard him reemerge just as she had managed to pull out a small step for him.
"Get your foot in the stirrup and swing it around," she said, gesturing to the step. "I will sit in front of you and you will hang onto this," she patted the piece, "with your arms around my waist to stay steady. We have a long trip ahead of us."
Mullen
I finally changed this.
What Yin described sounded less like luck and more like a coincidence to Corban: there was no attributing that kind of foresight to a Goddess' whims. Of course, depending on who you talked to, the Goddess of light was supposedly all-seeing and all-knowing, in addition to her mastery over light. That would mean that there were no coincidences in the world and everything always happened by divine right. The helpers that Yin described seem to be the only thing about the goddess that had any real agency. There had been no miracles, no appearance, no avatar... Nothing but mortals, proclaiming they worked under her direction. The goddess may have been all seeing and all knowing but mortals? They were fallible.
She had apparently taken the opportunity to ready her horse while he had gathered his things. It was efficient at least, and it meant they would be on their way soon. That was a boon. If his parents had actually worked up the nerve to follow him out, it would be a simple task to just leave.
He approached and followed her instructions, with a little difficulty, but all-in-all it was not a terrible first attempt at mounting a horse. "A long trip ahead," Corban repeated. "Where exactly are we headed? How long away?"
He took a moment to look back towards the fields. All of the work that still needed to be done, that now would rest on his parents alone. That left him with some guilt, but this was far more important than the harvest. He looked to his hand, remembering the glow but not quite taking the effort to display any light.
Yes, there were no coincidences if the stories about the goddess were true. That meant he had this power for a reason, and it lended credence to whichever bishop was apparently so intent on having Corban brought forth.
She had apparently taken the opportunity to ready her horse while he had gathered his things. It was efficient at least, and it meant they would be on their way soon. That was a boon. If his parents had actually worked up the nerve to follow him out, it would be a simple task to just leave.
He approached and followed her instructions, with a little difficulty, but all-in-all it was not a terrible first attempt at mounting a horse. "A long trip ahead," Corban repeated. "Where exactly are we headed? How long away?"
He took a moment to look back towards the fields. All of the work that still needed to be done, that now would rest on his parents alone. That left him with some guilt, but this was far more important than the harvest. He looked to his hand, remembering the glow but not quite taking the effort to display any light.
Yes, there were no coincidences if the stories about the goddess were true. That meant he had this power for a reason, and it lended credence to whichever bishop was apparently so intent on having Corban brought forth.
FloatingAroundSpace
Three Thousand Club
Yin watched the man swing himself up onto the horse. Not bad, for someone she had to assume had never been on one before. She picked up the step she had laid out for him and tucked it away carefully, pulling herself onto the saddle with a foot in the stirrup and a hefty swing. She seated herself comfortably up front and with a sharp snap of the reigns and a tug, turned the horse to go back the way she came, squeezing the beast to send it off at a steady trot.
"To the Grand Church of the Goddess of the Light," she said, "my own hometown."
Perhaps it was funny, that she picked him up in his own land, far away from the light of the church, where he had grown up in his ways around his families and that she was now taking him to her home where she had grown up, to be reintegrated with new rules.
"It took me well over two months to get here," she stated, "but that was with many pit stops and other assignments. My assumption is if we charge straight towards our destination, we may be there sooner."
"To the Grand Church of the Goddess of the Light," she said, "my own hometown."
Perhaps it was funny, that she picked him up in his own land, far away from the light of the church, where he had grown up in his ways around his families and that she was now taking him to her home where she had grown up, to be reintegrated with new rules.
"It took me well over two months to get here," she stated, "but that was with many pit stops and other assignments. My assumption is if we charge straight towards our destination, we may be there sooner."
Mullen
I finally changed this.
Situated in, more or less, the position that Yin had told him to be in left Corban with little more to do here but observe. Observe, listen, and learn. Conveniently for him that had been how much of his life had gone until this point. He had been always curious, had always had thoughts in the back of his head about exploring the wider world. Perhaps the Goddess did work in mysterious ways because if she had blessed his life, she had also made this journey possible. Whatever the intentions of the church once he arrived at that destination there was something for certain from this trip: there would be no returning to this life.
"Well over two months," Corban repeated. "Very ambiguous that. What do you usually do to keep yourself occupied? I can't imagine that the road itself has much to offer. With a job like yours though, at least you're rarely alone. Always someone to take somewhere."
"Run into much trouble? I have to imagine that working for the church brings people to you like a beacon just as often as it sends them scattering to the shadows." Corban started to look to the horizon that was barely visible on the rolling hills past the forest. " 'As the light shines it lights the path. But always be weary: just as light drives away the darkness, it casts shadows wherever it touches', " he quoted from the Cadence of the Goddess. The implication was clear to him: the church was aware that their methods created problems as often as they solved them. That meant more than a few commoners saw their coming as an ill omen, but Corban was not among them. He saw the light for all of its positive properties. There would be no life without it and most folk, not all but most, would be so fortunate as to never see one of the actual demons that the church kept at bay.
"Well over two months," Corban repeated. "Very ambiguous that. What do you usually do to keep yourself occupied? I can't imagine that the road itself has much to offer. With a job like yours though, at least you're rarely alone. Always someone to take somewhere."
"Run into much trouble? I have to imagine that working for the church brings people to you like a beacon just as often as it sends them scattering to the shadows." Corban started to look to the horizon that was barely visible on the rolling hills past the forest. " 'As the light shines it lights the path. But always be weary: just as light drives away the darkness, it casts shadows wherever it touches', " he quoted from the Cadence of the Goddess. The implication was clear to him: the church was aware that their methods created problems as often as they solved them. That meant more than a few commoners saw their coming as an ill omen, but Corban was not among them. He saw the light for all of its positive properties. There would be no life without it and most folk, not all but most, would be so fortunate as to never see one of the actual demons that the church kept at bay.
FloatingAroundSpace
Three Thousand Club
"Indeed," Yin said, "always someone to speak to more often than not. The way is often littered with those who need help finding the Light, whether that be the Goddess' or simply the candle that someone left waiting for them. The Goddess protects all and sends us on the paths to find one another. She works in her ways."
Yin was about to respond herself to his second comment when there was an angry yell to her left and she turned to see the man she had paid a single gold coin to earlier, glaring at her with his arms over his chest.
"Found him, eh?" the man grunted. Yin stared calmly. "Ya cartin' him off somewhere to slaughter?"
"I was under the impression you did not much enjoy his presence," Yin said calmly.
"Don't like yours much, either. The hell you doin' round these parts, nosing through our business, eh?"
A few other villagers had turned to stare at the woman who had come charging through their land, muttering to themselves as well.
"You're still takin' a pair of good hands off of us," someone else said and Yin breathed in heavily through her nose, closing her eyes for a second and nudging the horse forward anyways. It gave a snort and attempted to trot forward before someone blocked its way through the use of a large wooden cart, causing it to whinny and back up, clearly agitated.
"We don't like your ilk," someone called.
"You've stated," Yin said, turning to gaze into the crowd, a hand over her eyes to see where the sound was coming from. The crowd grew gradually larger and it was clear they were angry at her for whatever reason. Perhaps because she represented the manifestation of the church which had committed some sin so long ago. Perhaps because she was indeed, taking away their curse and they would have nothing to use as scapegoat. Perhaps because she was, as they so claimed, taking away a pair of hands and they actually did give a shit. Or perhaps simply because they were angry and a pristine knight seemed to be a perfect target.
She gripped the sword that hung on her hip and drew it violently, leaping off the horse in a single bound.
"Stay here," she snapped at Corban as a few of the villagers scattered back as she swung her weapon around, clutched tightly in her right hand.
"Let us pass," she said in a barely repressed snarl, pointing the tip at the man who stood by the cart. He simply lifted his chin and stared at her.
Yin was about to respond herself to his second comment when there was an angry yell to her left and she turned to see the man she had paid a single gold coin to earlier, glaring at her with his arms over his chest.
"Found him, eh?" the man grunted. Yin stared calmly. "Ya cartin' him off somewhere to slaughter?"
"I was under the impression you did not much enjoy his presence," Yin said calmly.
"Don't like yours much, either. The hell you doin' round these parts, nosing through our business, eh?"
A few other villagers had turned to stare at the woman who had come charging through their land, muttering to themselves as well.
"You're still takin' a pair of good hands off of us," someone else said and Yin breathed in heavily through her nose, closing her eyes for a second and nudging the horse forward anyways. It gave a snort and attempted to trot forward before someone blocked its way through the use of a large wooden cart, causing it to whinny and back up, clearly agitated.
"We don't like your ilk," someone called.
"You've stated," Yin said, turning to gaze into the crowd, a hand over her eyes to see where the sound was coming from. The crowd grew gradually larger and it was clear they were angry at her for whatever reason. Perhaps because she represented the manifestation of the church which had committed some sin so long ago. Perhaps because she was indeed, taking away their curse and they would have nothing to use as scapegoat. Perhaps because she was, as they so claimed, taking away a pair of hands and they actually did give a shit. Or perhaps simply because they were angry and a pristine knight seemed to be a perfect target.
She gripped the sword that hung on her hip and drew it violently, leaping off the horse in a single bound.
"Stay here," she snapped at Corban as a few of the villagers scattered back as she swung her weapon around, clutched tightly in her right hand.
"Let us pass," she said in a barely repressed snarl, pointing the tip at the man who stood by the cart. He simply lifted his chin and stared at her.
