Futuristic 〄 Help me find my way––!! | (syntranator & starboobie)

[starboob]

♕ PRINCESS VERITY (EXILED) ♕​

In the space between her response and waiting for Hryzn to judge her answer, the princess feels her palms become slick with sweat while her chest tightens. Though she knows her answer to be true, that does not mean that it will be pleasing. After all, the gift of truth may only be transparency as it can also be inconvenient, ugly, world-shattering––it's perhaps why Verity has struggled allowing her Self to shine, because she knows that not everybody will enjoy all that she is and all that she can offer. If she hides behind her masks and flattery, it is much easier to dance in the limelight. (Of course, her knack for being a mirror of what her audience wants to see proved ineffectual with Iskra. It is why she has tried to give as much of her purity to her dearest friend and, as a result, this way of being has trickled into the other aspects of her Life––the crew knows her better now and the gods they encounter on their adventures know just who princess Verity is. Perhaps, one day, the entire galaxy will know her truth.)

When the World Tree responds, her cheeks color when she is more or less told that she talks too much, this is not the first Time she has been told she is too wordy for some people's taste. Even if the mother's words come punctuated by a compliment, she feels suddenly shy. (Ah, she remembers her mom, on numerous occasions, asking her how long her stories would take before allowing Verity to chatter on and on.) Quietly, she nods graciously when they are permitted to continue their climb and while she does not understand the World Tree's advice, as it seems rather intuitive to her, she makes sure to take each new branch with intention.

Like Iskra, she notices the change in energy once Hryzn has retreated back into her leaves and it makes climbing all the more easier. It also reminds her that while they are allowed a safe passage, it can be taken from them at any moment. The tree, she understands, is watching their every movement and she is sure that the leaves are listening to their conversation. Not that she has any reason to worry for she knows what her intentions are and she does not plan on disrespecting a grand ancestor.

"Whatever do you mean, Iskra?" she asks, genuine surprise coloring her tone––she does not know whether to take the praise or reject its sacrilege, for there is no way she can be likened to the Divinities and sages. She is but a mortal with the same ordinary stuff swirling inside of her as any other person. "You have been by my side as well during all of our encounters with the divine. Perhaps there is something about a princess and pirate coming together that excites these beings––after all, you must admit there are not many princesses who work so well with pirates. They may be curious what we have to say." Though she deflects the compliment, she does find it flattering that this is how Iskra regards her––in fact, she's finding out quite a lot about how the pirate sees her. (Oh, to see herself through Iskra's eyes. What would that be like?)

Every so often during their ascent, she stops to look back at the ground or the view through the branches, marveling at how a world can look so different from above. While this is not quite the trial that Verity had been expecting to face, she does not mind its rather simple nature. It is a nice change of pace compared to others she has faced––both before Iskra and with Iskra. Perhaps the trial is enjoying the climb. To be truly present with it. Though when Hryzn speaks to them again, all of her silly thoughts dissolve. A chill washes over her entire body all at once. (Just what does she have to offer a divinity? A creator? She cannot give devotion, love, loyalty––those are things that Hryzn must have in abundance! So what can a princess, from another land, offer to this tree in exchange for her fruits? What even is an equal exchange? Surely she cannot sacrifice a pound of flesh for a pound of peaches, for she would die before ever tasting the fruit.)

As she deliberates, she can feel the vines around her feet tightening as if impatient. She does not let that worry her or hurry her process, for a thoughtless answer may very well lead to her literal downfall. So she takes her sweet Time before she finally reaches an answer. "I offer you one of my memories, one precious memory in exchange for your fruit. Reach into my mind and you will find the rare diamonds my Life has offered." (Even if this is not a gift that the grand mother can use or may not even care for, Hryzn asked for a gift of equal exchange. This memory is as to dear to her as a child, it is part of her. The World Tree had also asked for what she does not have and there is no way, Verity is rather certain, that she can have one of her own memories. To exchange this memory for the taste of a peach? She does believe it to be worth it. The sacrifice and following loss will be felt, she knows, for she is not so naïve to think that she will not feel the Loss even if she does not know what she mourns.) "I offer you one of my happy memories. With all you have lost, I hope it brings you some joy." (Like a tree can grow more peaches, she knows she can create more happy memories, too.)

The memory that she will part with should Hryzn find this trade acceptable? A day she spent with her grandmother when she was very, very young. In this memory, she knows, there is a strong feeling of love and she hopes that it warms the ancient being's heart. That it gives her an approximation of how her followers regard her, because even if she knows there is love has she ever been able to experience it the way her children do? She would not doubt it. Verity will not make assumptions on how deep her roots go. At best, she hopes that it is a reminder.

 

[Syntra]

...a memory. What? No, no, no! Verity couldn't possibly be offering a sacrifice this precious-- something worth her own weight in gold, and possibly even more. What were you after you'd lost your roots, after all? Without them, no flower could bloom, prosper, or even survive, really. (It would try, because duh, of course it would. Life did not give up so easily, even if all the odds were stacked against it. That was how it had conquered the universe, you see? Out of a single grain of sand, it could arise, again and again and again, as if to laugh in entropy's face! ...for a while, anyway. Until its fuel ran out, to be precise, and that would happen terribly fast once you disconnected it from its source. And, ah, did Verity not know that her memories held her in place? That, without them, she'd drift away, like a water along the stream? Without them, she would no longer be herself, dammit! ...Iskra, of all people, knew-- knew and knew and knew, far more intimately than she would have liked. It wasn't pleasant, you see? Waking up one day, reaching into yourself, and only finding emptiness where your heart had once been. A gaping hole, with its edges already consumed by rot.)

Hryzn, on the other hand, appeared... hmm, it was hard to tell, but 'intrigued' would be the proper word, most likely. (Her tone, at least, suggested so. Was it just her, or could Iskra hear curiosity in there? Curiosity wrapped in nonchalance, as if she was just a little bit ashamed? No, no, surely not! A being as ancient as the World Tree, she imagined, no longer experienced such emotions. Its countless eyes had seen all there was to see, and its ears, as numerous as worms in the earth, had heard every secret ever uttered. How, then, could such a promise trigger that sort of reaction in her? Clearly, the pirate's interpretation must have been off-- there was no way for flies to understand the ways of eagles, after all.) 'That is indeed something that I don't own yet, little princess,' Hryzn admitted. 'And I must say, I am intrigued. What is it like, to be loved by another so intimately? Don't get me wrong-- I have love, and more of it than most have experienced in their lifetime. It is a... different flavor of love, however. Something far more abstract. So, yes, I accept your offer. Let me drink from you, Verity.' The phrasing felt off, so much that alarm bells were ringing in Iskra's head, but what could she have done, with the vines still wrapped around her ankles? Nothing, nothing, nothing! She could only watch, really, as the strange being reached into Verity's mind, and... and then it was over, as quickly as it had begun.

"Are you alright, Verity?" Iskra asked, her voice barely louder than whisper. "I don't... ah. I suppose that I am merely surprised, is all. It is shocking to me that you'd sacrifice so much for a piece of fruit, you know? Are you... are you not afraid that you will miss the memory?" ...in the same way she missed her memories, each and every day. (Of course, that wasn't the same thing. A woman whose pockets were full of coins probably wouldn't notice when she lost one of them, did she? When you only had few of them, on the other hand, every single loss was felt keenly-- each was a day without food, or a roof over your head. Ah yes, yes! Blessed was the princess, truly, for not understanding.) "Just... don't do that anymore, alright?" Iskra sighed. "Promise me, Verity. Promise me that you shall not mutilate yourself in pursuit of... ah, any goal, really. For that, you are far too dear to my heart."

With that obstacle out of their way, at least, they could resume climbing. Branch after branch, they were getting closer to their goal-- that was what Iskra hoped for, anyway. (Hryzn wouldn't lie to them, would she? Tales of the gods' capriciousness had spread far and wide across the universe, but as far as deities went, the World Tree seemed trustworthy enough. The strange woman, too, surely wouldn't have sent them towards their deaths. Right? Right!?)

The pirate knew not how long they climbed, and didn't dare to guess-- strength was slowly leaving her arms, however, and so it likely had been hours rather than minutes. Just a little more. Come on, don't fail me, hands of mine! And, just like so many times before, they didn't. Soon enough, the princess and the pirate found themselves surrounded by clouds, white and thick like milk, and, ah. Was that a single peach, shimmering in the distance? A peach, around which a snake was wrapped? Oh, by the Shade! If this creature was what Iskra thought it was, then... oh, no. No, no, no, no, no! "Careful, Verity," she hissed. "This is no ordinary snake. Do you see the tip of its tail, and how spiked it is? How sharp? One of its mothers was a snake, yes, but the other was a scorpion. These hybrids possess, ah, interesting powers. Deadly powers, no less. When they meet your gaze, for example? You shall turn to stone, Verity. Stone! Is that prospect truly worth one peach?" ...even if it was the most exquisite peach Iskra had ever seen, she had to admit. The fruit was large and juicy, its color a lovely shade of pink-- everything, everything about it begged to be touched, begged to be claimed. "Whatever shall we do?" the captain asked, her eyes never leaving their prize.

 

[starboob]

♕ PRINCESS VERITY (EXILED) ♕​

If Verity were asked to describe what it is like to have a goddess reach into her mind and pluck one of her memories as if a crop to harvest? She would describe it as tingly and only slightly invasive, like having a feather brushed inside of her ear. When it is over, she doesn't feel much different; there is no sense of lightness or confusion. There is only a sense that something is missing and where she knows in some flattened sense what she has just sacrificed, she cannot recall any detail of what is now missing. In some ways it is frustrating, but with their mission still ahead of them she does not let herself get caught up in the feeling and shakes it away. Perhaps later she will return to this frustration and will try to figure just what it is that she has misplaced, but more than likely, she will forget; she will forget to remember what is missing and she will forget entirely that she is missing something. There may be a shallow sense of loss, but, overall, her memories are as abundant as drops of water in an ocean. A scoop here and a scoop there are nothing for her to raise a fuss about. (That is just another thing that sets her apart from Iskra. She has more to give than her companion and so for her, these sacrifices of her essence and her memories mean little to her. Of course, that is not to say that she does not know to cherish these things and thus waves them around carelessly; it is just that, for the right causes, she knows she can afford the price.)

"Yes, I am quite alright," she replies, keeping the cheer in her voice because, really, she does not think there is anything to worry about. (Again, maybe later, there will be sadness. When it is late at night and, out of sheer habit, she tries to bring her ancestors forward. Perhaps then she will realize there is a memory of her grandmother that is gone and maybe that realization will cause her to understand the depth of her sacrifice, but as it is? As it is, she understands that there are more happy memories for her to create in this Life. She suspects, moving forward, many will feature the worried captain. Those will be more precious to her than any of the others; those are the ones she will never part with. In a way, Verity takes it as her responsibility to care for each memory of the pirate in case anything else is to happen to her troubled mind. That, and she has promised to document the captain's Life and she cannot do that if she gives away these memories.)

The last Time that Verity had made a sacrifice to an ancient guardian she remembers the pirate being upset with her and while it had annoyed her then, she does not feel that now. Perhaps because Iskra is not being as infuriating as she had been then. She sighs and pauses her climb to look at the pirate. "Iskra, I did consider how I would miss the memory but to assume that Hryzn does not miss her fruits would be foolish, for we do not know her relationship to each peach that she births. To offer less would not have been a fair trade and... and I know that as the World Tree can continue to produce her fruits, I can make many more," she explains, hoping the pirate realizes she had put thought into her decision. “In fact,” she grins, “I am making a happy one right now,”

"Though, Iskra, it would be improper of me to make such a promise to you and I do not wish to tarnish our relationship with lies. I have done that already and I did not like the taste," she wrinkles her nose then continues, "However, I do promise that each self-sacrifice shall be heavily weight and carefully considered. Know that I shall not be wasteful and I do recognize the gift I have."

As they continue to climb, the princess quiets as all her energy is put towards reaching and pulling and reaching and pulling––doing her best to make sure that she does not fall for she does not think it Hryzn will catch her just because of her sacrifice. Her arms shake and protest with each new height, her lungs burn, and just when she thinks there is no more for her to give, they peak above the clouds and... and the sight before her absolutely takes her breath away. She does not even notice the peach or hybrid snake that guards it, far more taken by the view from this height. From so high up she cannot make out the plaza or neighborhoods, or people, everything looks like a speck of dust or a spot at most. 'How humbling to realize that I am truly nothing,' she thinks, though not bitterly. In fact, there is an odd sense of peace in knowing how truly little this all matters. It makes her wonder what the focus of one's Life should be and what purpose one should pursue.

Only when Iskra starts to warn her does she turn around to see the peach––beautifully ripe, kissed by all the colors in a sunset, and perhaps the most alluring piece of fruit that she has ever seen. "Are you not the one who brought us here so that I may taste a peach, a real peach, and not some paltry imitation found on other planets?" she asks, raising her brow with a hand on her hip. "Having climbed all those heights do you truly wish to turn back now in the face of danger? Have we not faced greater foes and taken them hope as pets? Perhaps this creature is also in need of a new home," she jokes. "In all seriousness, Hryzn did warn us to watch with our eyes and think with our head. She also warned for us to not be consumed by greed. Those warnings are perhaps all connected to this dilemma."

Her first thought is that perhaps this peach has been claimed by this snake and they should search for another. However, upon turning around and around, she does not see any other fruit to pluck. This is what Hryzn has offered to them, presumably. She looks down to her belt for inspiration and selects a compact mirror, pointing it to face the snake and using the reflection as her guide. "We shall be clever, Iskra, that is what we shall do. If the creature is unyielding, we can make our descent, but I shall be full of Regret if we do not at least try." With the mirror in one hand, she draws her sword with the other and slowly approaches the snake. It's tail flicks in warning, it opens its mouth to hiss at the princess, and she allows none of this to deter her spirit.

"Shall you be friend or foe today?" she asks the snake, even though its prior warning suggests what it will be and is even confirmed when the snake lashes its body like a whip in an attempt to bite the princess. She dodges the attack. The snake wraps its body tighter around the branch and hisses another warning, not knowing that this princess is not so easily spooked. "Iskra, while I am distracting this foe, go for the fruit––I shall not harm this creature if bloodshed is not necessary."

 

[Syntra]

Ah, well. The pirate had asked for honesty before, hadn't she? Perhaps not with her words, but with her heart, her soul, her entire being-- everything she had ever been and could never be, all of that at once and even more. How, then, could she fault Verity for providing it? For giving her the very gift she'd been yearning for? Oh no, no, no! (It wasn't her fault that the truth didn't like to bend, after all. Unlike a lie, it didn't twist, or contort itself into the wildest of shapes-- whether the beholder admired it or resented it, you see, mattered very little to such an entity. The only compass that it followed? The one that was buried in its own chest, secure from the outside influences. Encased in the wall of flesh, no magnet could sway it! ...that made it beautiful, and terrible as well. Independence was a glorious concept, wasn't it? One towards which every living organism strived, to a degree, and failed, failed, failed, for they could never escape their role in the universe's hierarchy. Everyone, every single woman ever born, stood on the backs of her ancestors, and her own back? Why, that, too, was destined to become a bridge! ...only statues were disconnected from the cycle, really. Statues, rocks, and other unliving things, and yes, concepts such as the truth. How completely, utterly alien!) "That will do, I suppose," Iskra chuckled. "It has to, I mean. I shan't bind you and lock you in some prison, solely to protect you from the dangers that might claim your life-- that would be like killing you, in truth, even if in a long-winded way. I couldn't do that to you, so I'll simply have to trust you."

That trust, however? Quickly, it was turning out to be rather misplaced, because Verity simply insisted on tasting the peach. (Yes, Iskra had suggested it, but so what? Had the princess never heard of circumstances evolving? If you found out that your usual route to your favorite resting spot was blocked, the correct response was to choose a different path, not to blow the barricade up! And a vicious snake claiming the fruit, Iskra would have thought, was more than enough of an obstacle to warrant changing your plans. Not so much in Verity's mind, though! Just, ugh. Truly, had she not known her companion better, the pirate would have thought that the danger only made it more appealing for her, somehow.)

"Very well," she capitulated, sighing heavily. It wasn't even the worst outcome, she supposed-- at least Verity allowed her to risk her own skin, instead of rushing to meet her maker. "I entrust my safety into your hands, then. There is nobody I'd trust more with it, so in that regard, at least, I truly am blessed. Wish me luck, sweet princess. Hopefully, I won't need it, but knowing that you whispered prayers with my name shall put me at ease." So... snakes didn't actually see all that well, now did they? They could sense heat, she had read, and also vibrations, in this bat-like way. Hmm, hmm. Abrupt movements seemed like the fastest ticket to the underworld, but slowness, it appeared to the pirate, wouldn't save her, either. Steadiness, that is what I need. That, and the ability to be faster than lightning when it truly matters.

Step by step, Iskra moved closer towards the serpent. Only a few more meters, she thought, and she'd be close enough to reach the fruit! (The beast appeared calm, as if it was made out of stone as well-- its scales glistened in the sunlight, in a way that reminded her of the rainbows back in the cave. Ah, how long ago had that been? Centuries had passed, seemingly, and yet, logically, Iskra knew that not even a year had separated her from the event. Curious, curious, curious, indeed! The flow of the time was a capricious thing, hellbent on twisting your perspective till you understood nothing at all.) Calm down. Breathe slowly, as if you are at peace. ...peace, huh. What was her idea of peace, even? What could a soldier, with her hands stained by blood, possibly know about it? The closest she'd ever got to tasting it, she thought, was that night she'd spent curled in Verity's arms-- for that reason, Iskra recalled the memory, and let it calm her breath. Good. It's good enough, I can tell.

...except that it wasn't. The snake, who had seemed so wholly uninterested? So, so disconnected from the outside world that it may as well have been a statue? It moved, fast like a whip, which... ah. Was it going to look at Verity? No, no, no! Swiftly, Iskra drew her sword. "I'm your foe here, lowly villain!" The blade shimmered, both beautiful and deadly, and when it met the snake's body... oh, it ran through easily, like a knife through hot butter. (Blood was everywhere now, too. It was dripping, dripping, dripping, feeding Hryzn, really, and Iskra wondered how such a small creature could contain so much of it. Where had it been stored, even?)

Well, no matter. No matter, no matter, no matter! She only had to grab the peach, you see, because Verity wanted one, and then they could get out of here. The thing lay teasingly, teasingly close, almost as if beckoning her to seize it, and honestly, could she do anything else? At this point, the answer was no. The pirate reached for it, but, ah, suddenly, there was a large, yellow pair of eyes, and then-- then--

 

[starboob]

♕ PRINCESS VERITY (EXILED) ♕​

To the princess, there are few challenges or obstacles that she will walk away from. Perhaps it is her proclivity to laugh in the face of danger; perhaps it is her Desire to always give her endeavors an honest effort; perhaps she does not know when to quit. Or, and the most likely reason, it is that she does not take kindly to failure and must always push herself past her limits. (An excellent way to grow and a fast track to destruction if one is not careful––one does have to wonder if the princess is careful given her record for recklessness. Even in light of her most recent promise, has she truly thought of the dangers or is she merely resting on comforting knowledge that she has always survived in spite of the odds? Ah, that is a secret for Verity and Verity alone.)

From everything her Life has taught her, she knows to face these opponents with absolute calm. Predators are far too easily spooked by sudden movements and any threat is met swiftly; so she makes sure to only worry the snake enough to hold its attention while her companion goes for the fruit. So long as she can prove herself a menacing threat, Iskra will be safe from the snake's stone glare. For as calm as she appears on the outside, her heart feels as though holes are being drilled into it and if were not for the sheen of sweat already on her brow, the snake and everyone would be able to tell that she is nervous. 'To be fearless is not about the absence of Fear, but the will to overcome it. Be fearless, Verity,' she reminds herself. She uses the reflection of her sword to draw the hybrid snake's attention, flashing it in its deadly eyes––which clearly irritates the creature for it starts to curl even tighter around the branch and spits venom, she assumes, in her direction. Again, she jumps between branches to avoid the attack. 'Careful, Verity, be careful!'

Naturally, as that thought crosses her mind she can see the snake in her mirror rearing to whip out against her as it had before. She looks over to spot the next branch she can cling to in order to leap from the attack, but for all her quick preparation it appears unneeded as Iskra steps in to slay the snake. Something she, herself, had been rather adamant about avoiding and it annoys her that the captain chose to act so swiftly. Does Iskra not trust her to save herself? Does she not realize that she is capable and does not always need saving? Even if she can understand where the pirate is coming from in her worries, she just... She just wants to prove herself! That she can handle herself and that she can do these things on her own. She huffs as irritation flits over her features. (Though, perhaps... Perhaps her annoyance is misplaced. She does not know, after all, Iskra's intentions or what would have happened had the captain not intervened. And, maybe, she needs to remind herself that they are a team now. They help each other.) Still, those thoughts do not hold her tongue as she voices her displeasure, "I do think I had the situation under control." Then, as an afterthought, she adds, "I thank you, still."

She grimaces at the hybrid's limp body, spurting and spewing blood all over Hryzn's gangly limbs, and puts her sword and mirror away. When she looks up and sees those yellow eyes that Iskra is now reaching for? Well, now it's the princess's turn to act in a manner that does not consider her companion's ability seeing as she bolts to pull the captain away from the fruit. (Ah, no wonder it had been so alluring! With those bright eyes it had always been staring and drawing them in with an invisible gaze.) The fruit's gaze follows the pair, never leaving them. Curiously, the peach blinks. In all honesty, Verity has not a clue of what to do. She knows not whether this peach is yet another test, though she guesses that all of their encounters pursuing this goal have been a test of sorts.

"So eager you were to feast on my flesh. Princess, what has changed?" the peach whispers, her voice soft yet enough to make the leaves around her tremble. "Do you no longer want me? Why don't you want me?"

That had not been anything the princess expected . Of course, to say she had any expectations is hardly true for the moment she knew this would be an obstacle, she let go of all sense of expectation. This is just... quite odd, if she does say so herself. "Ah––I did not mean to offend... I just was unaware that peaches have eyes," or that they can talk––no account of peaches that she is familiar with has spoken of this phenomena. "I suppose," she continues awkwardly, "I had not known of your sentience." (And now she feels rather strange about eating such a peach.)

"Silly princess, of course I am sentient. I am Hryzn's own flesh. We all have this quality," the peach continues, pleasantly, as if this is no strange occurrence. Her eyes, even, sweep over the rest of the branches and, suddenly, more peaches reveal themselves to the pair––all with eyes, pink, yellow, orange, brown––so many different colors and so much fruit, Verity can hardly believe herself. They whisper a quiet hello to the pirate and princess, punctuating the greeting with a cacophony of giggles. "See! Now, if you want me, you may have me. Hryzn has blessed you, you slayed the beast guarding me from cowardly hearts. You have more than––"

"Wait, wait, wait!" another peach interjects, "Those are your only reasons for giving yourself away?"

"Yes, have some standards, sister!"

"Fine," the first peach reluctantly agrees with a sigh, "Fine, I shan't dishonor the mother, but I have waited many moons to be plucked so, please," she turns her attention back to the pirate and princess, her deep yellow eyes boring into their very souls, "Please do not disappoint. Pirate. Princess. Tell me, how shall you honor the sacrifice of my flesh?"

 

[Syntra]

“Possibly,” Iskra agreed, her eyes serious. “But, princess, perhaps it wasn’t so-- our brains aren’t supercomputers, and aren’t really equipped to run complex simulations. How do you know, then, that you would have been alright? You don’t, no matter what you’d like to tell yourself. The thing is,” she continued without missing a beat, “this doesn’t mean I consider you to be incompetent. No, it only means that I see you as precious, and don’t wish to imagine a reality in which you are not present. Did you not say yourself, Verity, that I have to come to terms with the fact I cannot stop you from making sacrifices? Similarly, you also cannot stop me from acting on my hunch. That is fair enough, I think. We both need to give something up if we are to gain something else. Isn’t balance of crucial importance, after all?” (Without it, they’d stagger and fall, down, down, down, towards their inevitable demise. And, oh, what a demise that would be! Many times, you see, Iskra had thought about the nature of life, and come to the conclusion that it was like walking on an unbearably thin rope-- above you, there was but a starry sky, and underneath, a pit full of steel spikes. The starlight was needed, of course, in order to light your path, but if you became too fascinated by it? Their splendor would blind you, effectively sentencing you to death. Indeed, everything good in this galaxy always sprang from balance! …which was why, in the pirate’s eyes, their relationship should be balanced as well.

…but, ah. How come nobody had warned her of this? Of the peaches possessing these human-like features, and perhaps a soul as well? Myrne had told her the peaches were extraordinary, but failed to truly clarify anything. As a result of that, Iskra had thought that she’d been referring to their taste, not to… not to whatever this was! Oh, by the Shade, by the Shade, by the Shade. Was Verity supposed to eat one of those? The idea of putting the fruit anywhere near her mouth made her feel vaguely nauseous-- the same kind of sensation you got after you’d stepped on a snail’s shell, and heard it crack under your weight. Just, what? These creatures had minds of their own, and perhaps nuggets of wisdom to offer as well, and yet, yet they were to treat them like objects, meant for nothing but consumption. Would they feel it, hmm? Being crushed by her teeth, that was? They could speak, so it wasn’t a stretch to assume they had some sort of a nervous system as well, no matter how crude, which… ah. What a horrifying, horrifying prospect! A torture so cruel that not even the Holy Vessel had ever come close to it, and believe her, it wasn’t for a lack of effort. Regardless of the madness that had plagued her thoughts, something as twisted had simply not occurred to her! (And yet, yet the little peach seemed to want it. Shocking, was it not? Maybe not, actually, because the pirate out of all people understood just how hypnotic a sense of duty could be. ‘Questions are poison; just act.’ ‘Serve your purpose. Don’t you know why you’ve been granted the spark of life?’ ‘Disappoint me not, Iskra. Heed your calling.’ Yes, yes! Technically, those had been mere words, but great power lay in those-- they were like water, you see, and water, albeit gentle, could grind a stone to dust. …had she been raised with the idea of being eaten one day, would she have resisted it? Would she have broken her chains, or relished in the idea of providing someone with precious nourishment? That matters not, she said to herself. You’ve come here for a reason, so don’t stray from your path.)

“Miss Peach,” the pirate began, her heart pounding in her chest. Just, what were you supposed to say during situations like this? Was there a protocol? If so, nobody had bothered to teach her its contents. “Truthfully, I know not whether I can offer more than we demand of you. You are to feed us your own flesh, after all-- hardly can I imagine something more personal, or larger in scope. For that reason, I believe, we have to offer multiple things. The first gift…” she trailed off, not knowing what to choose. (Just, ugh! Maybe she could learn to think first, and open her mouth afterwards? In retrospect, that would have solved a lot of her problems.) “My gratitude. A worthless thing to be sure, but it’s there, and not mentioning it doesn’t seem right. So, yes. That would be one thing. I am aware that words alone aren’t worth much, however,” the pirate cleared her throat, confident all of a sudden, “and so we… so we aim to become worthy of you via actions. The most universal of currencies."

"Once you become a part of us, Miss Peach, we shall show you the galaxy-- show you its wonders, and combat its evils. Surely, you must be aware that many injustices fester in every corner of the universe, and that people suffer, as far as the eye can see? Once, I’ve lost my way,” Iskra gulped, “but I think I knew where to go now. I’d like to make a difference, in one way or another. With the princess by my side, I believe that I can. And, really, wouldn’t it be sweet to witness this? I know that your people suffered as well, little Peach, and that valiant Hryzn saved them-- that she did everything, everything in her power to punish those who would harm her folk. Does it not make sense, then, to spread her legacy via helping others? Via removing the boot from the downtrodden people’s necks? From what I know about her, she would have approved of that mission, for empathy is a trait of every great leader. So, in a way, I suppose that what we offer is living in a way that would make you and your ancestor proud. What do you say to that?”

 

[starboob]

♕ PRINCESS VERITY (EXILED) ♕​

Perhaps... Perhaps Verity should have thought this through a bit more as she is truly unsure whether or not she wants to continue pursuing this goal of theirs. Sure, the animals that the princess consumes, she reasons, are not much different than this peach... at the same Time, she has never actually had a full conversation with any animal. Or vegetable or fruit or root and so on––never has she spoken to her food before. (She does know that food is sacred and should be respected and honored and never taken for granted, for one never knows when the next famine may strike. This is just a bit excessive, in her opinion. Still, she does feel strange about turning back now and the little peach seems eager as if this is her only purpose in Life. That thought somewhat comforts the princess, because at least she can assure herself knowing that this is peach's grand goal, to nourish the people. It would be disrespectful to question her, no? For even if her Life could extend past living on this branch... would she be as fulfilled having not been consumed? Oh, who knew this adventure would lead to such a moral dilemma.)

At least, she has comfort knowing that the pirate is stepping forward for them both while she wrestles with herself. Honestly, she has no idea how to honor a peach or how a peach would want to be honored! (Before, yes, she had more or less rejected Iskra's help. The circumstance then, of course, had been different. Even so, she does see the captain's side of things now. She realizes her folly in requesting that her knight shirk her responsibilities when she has asked the knight to not question her sacrifices. Simply, she will have to learn how to appreciate the pirate's want to keep her safe––and she does appreciate it; it just is taking her some Time to adjust to this new interdependence.) It seems, though, that Iskra knows exactly the perfect way to honor this little one as she finds herself touched by the gesture the pirate is offering.

"Heroes! You both are heroes! And I shall be a hero, too. Princess, pirate, and peach! Together we will rid the galaxy of evil!" the peach marvels, her eyes growing so wide, they practically take up her entire face, and the excitement is clear in her tone. "Sisters, have you heard that I shall be honored by being the nourishment for heroes? They shall go forth and vanquish evil just like mighty Hryzn. This is better than a dream for I have always wanted to be like mother."

"Not fair! Not fair! Not fair!" several of the other peaches cry.

"Pick me instead!"

"No, me!"

"I am much sweeter and bigger, I shall be far better nourishment than her!"

"This is better than the immortal poet that another sister fed eons ago," the little peach continues, ignoring her jealous sisters. She shakes and twists her little body, as if trying to free herself from the branch. "Oh, I am just so excited! Yes, your promise is most pleasing and I hope to not disappoint for I must carry my weight in our quest. Pluck me! Evil waits for no one."

"Careful, little peach, you might fall and splatter before we ever get a chance to make your dream a reality," Verity cautions, reaching to cup her hands below the excited fruit. Even if she has her reservations about trying a peach now, she would not want the peach to plummet before she even has a chance to fulfill her purpose. Unsure of exactly how to proceed, her hands wrap around the bottom of the peach, to which the fruit nods rapidly, and without even much effort the peach falls into her palms. Immediately, Miss Peach's eyes flutter close and she goes silent. The other peaches, in all their strangeness, begin to hum an odd tune. It is not melancholic or one of mourning, but seems to be a happy song. One that inspires only well wishes. 'At least,' she thinks, looking down at the fruit, 'she no longer has eyes and seems to not be talking.'

Curiously, albeit rather hesitantly, Verity smooths her thumb over the soft skin of the peach and turns it around in her palm to look for a spot to start. It does still feel off to eat this peach, now, but the song the other peaches sing has a calming, almost reassuring affect on her nerves. She looks up at Iskra to see if she is also feeling the same way before looking back down to the peach. "Ah, thank you, Miss Peach, for your sacrifice and nourishment," she whispers. With a deep breath, she raises the fruit to her lips and feels its fuzzy skin tickle her lips before she bites into its plump body. The fruit practically bursts upon her bite, the nectar dribbling down her chin and the second the flavor hits her tongue? The princess moans in delight, her eyes rolling backwards––it's hard for her to remember to feel bad about eating such a peach with how the sugars dance and hug her tongue. "This is absolutely, absolutely divine, Iskra," she sighs, licking her lips of the juice and offering the fruit to her companion. "You must try it––you must, it is a drop of the Cosmos on your very tongue, I swear."

 

[Syntra]

Had anyone told Iskra that she would spend the day trying to convince a peach to let her eat it, how would she have reacted? Words such as 'if' held infinite possibilities within them, each a universe in itself, but it was hard to see a version of events where she would not have laughed in the prophet's face. Who had ever heard of peaches speaking, after all? Who, who, who? Truly, you might as well have asked your shoes whether they enjoyed being stepped on, or demanded to know if your teaspoon didn't mind spending so much time submerged in searing hot tea! ...and yet, of course, there they were. It had become a bit of an evergreen, hadn't it? Had the pirate been just slightly more arrogant, she would have believed that the Shade was twisting reality specifically in order for it to subvert her expectations-- such an assault on her perception, you see, would probably work wonders when it came to tearing down her protective walls. (A woman who could no longer believe in her own reasoning? Ah, what a wonderful, wonderful target! A pitiful one, in other words, for she would lower her shield when it ought to be raised. 'There is no danger,' that traitorous voice would whisper in her ear, 'so why are you doing this? Do you want to appear like an even bigger fool than you are? Hilarious. Both hilarious and bound to fail, for there are no new lows for you to reach.') And, you know, perhaps Iskra would have jumped to that interpretation! It would have fit the pattern of her failing in increasingly bizarre ways, certainly, but... well. Verity was there with her, wasn't she? Verity, who saw everything with such staggering clarity that it made her want to cry, inexplicably. Surely, had something been afoot, she would have informed her...?

"Ladies, ladies," the pirate smiled gently, "we are not the only heroes in the galaxy. Don't you think that Hryzn must have great plans for you as well? You are her children-- her flesh and blood, chosen among all. There is no way the World Tree doesn't think of your future, I believe. Different women will come for you, noble and gentle and beautiful, and you alone will choose between them. Does that not sound like a great proposition?"

The peaches muttered among themselves, Iskra could tell, but as for what they said? That remained shrouded in mystery, for fog swallowed their words. Oh well! Not getting the full picture, Iskra supposed, was a lesson as well-- that way, the pirate could fill in the blanks herself, and marvel over the mosaic created in such a way.

Speaking of marveling, however? The princess was, ah, eating the peach in a manner that Iskra found, ah, most fascinating. I'm only staring, she tried to convince herself, because it is such a rare sight. Verity usually used cutlery, so obviously, her only eating with her fingers was... um, educational? Yes, yes! Thanks to witnessing such an event, Iskra could conclude that the princess's hands, in fact, worked. A cause to rejoice, indeed! It was a seemingly small thing, but in combat, it could also be the difference between life and death. No, really. The strength of one's grip simply mattered when wielding a sword, and now, when showcased on the tender flesh of the peach, the pirate could judge it satisfactory. (They were good hands, probably. Good fingers, too. The juices stuck to them, Iskra saw, for they glistened in the sunlight, and for one moment? For one terrible, horrifying moment, she imagined them running across her body-- playing her like a harp, really, and making her sing in ways not too dissimilar to Verity's moaning. Just, how long would it take before she coaxed such sounds out of her? Hours? Minutes? So sweet, sweet they tasted upon falling from her princess's lips that Iskra simply had to wonder whether she could produce them as well! (See, her interest was strictly scientific. One could never gather enough data, right? Data saved lives, as Myrne would have said, so there was nothing bad or inappropriate about her imagining... things. Various things. Verity slipping her hand underneath her clothes, for example, and aiming somewhere with great purpose; Verity pushing her against a wall; Verity, with that self-assured smirk of hers, kissing her restraint away. Just, hahaha, completely normal things! Friend things, really, because as far as Iskra knew, friends tended to be affectionate with one another. The Verity in her fantasies proceeded to bite her ear, then, and-- ahhh!)

Yes, ahhh. The world, you see, didn't freeze in order to allow Iskra to daydream to her heart's content-- it kept turning on, mercilessly, and its inhabitants cared not for her quirks. In this particular instance, the tendency manifested itself via Verity speaking. You know, the actual Verity that existed outside of her mind? Uh huh, that one. The two realities collided in that moment, along with the two Verities that were so different and yet so painfully the same, and Iskra... Iskra wasn't prepared for that, it turned out. Like, at all. So much the contrast shocked her, in fact, that her foot slipped! There was nothing to grab onto, nothing to pull herself up with, so before the pirate realized what was happening? She was falling, falling, falling, the cold wind wailing all around her.

 

[starboob]

♕ PRINCESS VERITY (EXILED) ♕​

Honestly? Verity may never want to eat another kind of food again. This peach is so beyond divine that she is horrified she would even use such an insufficient adjective to describe the fruit; or even contain the experience to a single word when she could write essays on the subject. 'Her sweet supple skin brushes across my lips. Sundrops burst on my tongue, sending honey to my heart. This present that shall never be forgotten...' She can understand why poets have been inspired by such a delight. She runs her thumb over her chin, gathering the remaining juice, and licks it off clean.

She closes her eyes to help savor the sweetness... and that is about when Iskra slips from the branch and falls. Unfortunately, it is an entire second later that Verity actually opens her eyes and notices that her friend is missing. She looks around, thinking that perhaps the pirate has climbed elsewhere (though she hasn't a clue why), before she looks down and, to her absolute and utter horror, terror, all the adjectives, she watches as the pirate plummets to the ground––her body becoming a spot!

Quickly, the princess pulls herself together and acts. She puts the peach into her bag and dives straight down towards Iskra, her pirate. (The peaches all gasp in the background as they watch the feat unfold. Will the heroes perish?) With her stomach left somewhere at the top of the World Tree, it takes her a minute to adjust––she has to force herself to remember that if she does not act in a smart manner, she will splatter across the sand right next to her companion and that is not how she wants their story to end! (Yes, because where Iskra goes, she will follow––this is their story, now, and has been for quite some Time.) She lets herself free fall for a few more seconds, purposefully trying to get as close to her companion as she can before she grabs one of her grappling hooks and shoots down. She waits a few seconds, then shoots the other up. 'Divinities, please catch us––'

She feels one hook catch on the limb of the tree and the other, she hopes, is going to get––Ah! She breathes a sigh of relief when she feels the sharp pull on the rope as it hooks onto Iskra, pulling her arms and stretching her in the most uncomfortable manner. Not that she will complain, because this means that her prayer has been answered. Her thumb slides over the button on the grappling hook to pull Iskra up towards herself. As soon as she can, she scoops the captain into the protection of her embrace.

"You are not to scare me like that, Iskra," the princess scolds, though not unkindly. Clearly she had been worried for the captain's safety––her own Life practically flashed before her eyes watching Iskra fall before she dove to catch her. (It might have slipped her mind that Iskra is immortal.) "My heart simply cannot handle this," she whispers into Iskra's hair, hugging the other woman tightly. That had been much too close for the princess. Never does she want the Divinities to test her like that again. (Though, she knows having a wish like that almost guarantees that they will send another challenge like this her way. Damn her foolishness.) "You must take care of my heart, dearest Iskra."

Then, before she can hit the release on the second grappling hook, a cloud forms below them––soft like cotton and looking twice as promising. It rises closer to them until the princess can feel her feet touch the pillow. (In the past, when Verity has been among the clouds and touched them, she recalls them only being the illusion of something solid.) This cloud below her? It is solid, by some magic that she does not understand. With how it presses at the bottom of her shoes, she gets the idea that she should let go of the grappling hook and let this cloud carry them. Of course, even with that inclination, she does not trigger the release as she believes doing so will promise that they both become Death. Her thumb hovers over the button, seconds away from pressing it. Then the cloud wraps around her ankle, swirling around them until they are encased in a thick milky fog and the wind twirls their hair into knots. (Is it just Verity or does it smell like cotton candy?)

Verity is not sure how much Time passes while they are in that vortex, but when it clears away they are no longer in Hryzn's branches. She has not a clue of where they are, but clouds surround them, soft and dusted in pink. She also notices that they are standing on a spiral staircase that stretches so high up, she wonders if it going towards the sun? Though when she looks backwards and sideways for other routes to take? There are none. 'Stranger and stranger...' "Iskra, have you noticed that since knowing each other a sudden strangeness has taken over our lives? Or was your Life always this peculiar before you met me? I, myself, cannot say that mine had been quite as a strange."

"Follow the path, little stars,” a voice sings, the words weaving down the steps towards the pirate and princess. “Come, come, I want to meet you."

 

[Syntra]

This, without doubt, would be her stupidest death. The competition in that department was fierce, mind you, for immortality led you down all kinds of paths, but still, still Iskra didn't think that anything else came even remotely close to... to this, whatever it was. (Which, by the way, was a complete and total mystery! One hundred percent inexplicable, really. It wasn't as if the sight of the princess had awakened certain, ah, desires within her-- that part of her was dead, dead, dead, and buried ten feet under the ground! How, then, could she possibly hope to resurrect it? Trees that had shrivelled could no longer bear fruits, oh no, so Iskra... Iskra couldn't do that, either. Not in the metaphorical or the literal sense, really. Concepts such as feelings were of no use to a soldier, forged amidst the heat of battle, and since they'd stripped her of everything unnecessary? Her feeling any sort of way about Verity was not only disgraceful, but also impossible! ...it was like attempting to read your future from tea leaves, truly. They were there, of course, and they formed a certain shape, but to assign any sort of meaning to it? Pffft! Similarly, you couldn't possibly hope to interpret Iskra's own reactions as a sign of... well, anything. They just were, much like rain and sunlight and clouds, so high in the sky!)

Anyway, yes. Once the Shade revived her, Iskra was sure, she and Verity would laugh at this together-- at the pirate who had, despite having faced gods themselves in combat, found it hard to stand upright. Oh, how the mighty had fallen! Quite literally at that, too. (Soon, her bones would shatter. Her flesh would bruise, and bloody stains would bloom across it, and, if she was especially unlucky, her entrails would spill as well. It was but a roll of the dice, truly! ...but then, unexpectedly? Instead of the solid ground, it was Verity who embraced her, and Iskra couldn't help but wrap her arms around her in response. "Ah. I... I shall try," she whispered. "I apologize for worrying you so, my guiding star. I suppose the moment was too powerful for the likes of me, and my knees buckled. There was nothing I could have done. Perhaps the peach had hypnotic powers at her disposal? Stranger things have happened."

Indeed, things much, much stranger-- kind of like the cloud that materialized under their feet, carrying them Shade knew where. Ah, alright. This was simply her new reality, Iskra supposed! "No," the pirate shook her head, resolutely. "Not at all. When I remember my life before you, Verity, it feels like... like a black-and-white photograph, really. The shapes were clearly defined, but the colors were missing, and everything was dead. Lifeless. I knew not where to turn, but it also didn't matter, for darkness followed every single one of my steps. My choices weren't choices at all-- they were but writhing of a wounded animal who tried, oh so hard, to find a position that didn't hurt quite as much. But, since you turned up? My eyes discovered color, and how dazzling it could be. How beautiful. You showed my something within myself, Verity, and while I still don't understand it... I am grateful that you did."

The mysterious voice that spoke to them, then? It was smoother than velvet, truly, and make Iskra think of strawberries for some reason. So, so sweet it was! Sweet and delicious, in a way that felt... indecent, almost. (A forbidden fruit tempting you, promising you pleasure beyond that which was normally allowed to mortals, and, and the same time, damning you for daring to claim it. Who was the woman, huh? What could she possibly want from them? No way to find out but follow the voice, Iskra knew, and so that was what they did.) "Be on guard, Verity," the pirate warned the princess. "Often, kindness is a front for something far more sinister lurking beneath. Look with your eyes, Hryzn said, and I believe the piece of wisdom still applies."

No, Iskra wouldn't fall for the illusion of safety! Ever vigilant, the pirate's hand automatically fell to her sword, but then-- then--

They came to a garden, lush and green. A fountain was singing in the background, with the water whispering tales of distant lands, but you know what grabbed Iskra's attention instead? The woman who was bathing with it, as beautiful as she was striking. (Her eyes, the pirate knew, saw further than those of any human being she'd met before. They were diamonds and knives, and all things sharp, and when they looked at her... ah, she might as well have dissected the pirate! Never before had Iskra felt so naked, so hopelessly vulnerable.)

"Welcome," the woman said, oh so casually, as if she was used to receiving visitors while bathing. "It's been quite some time since I've had a company so lovely! A princess and a pirate, I've heard. Two brave souls on a mission, searching that which has been lost. Quite poetic, don't you think? It is my belief, after all, that poetry is a search for the truth-- grasping all the meanings that might not be revealed to the naked eye at first, and dragging them to the light. You do understand, Verity, don't you? And Iskra... ah, my poor, dear Iskra shall understand soon enough. I've decided to compose a poem for you, you see? I've been watching you, and let's just say that..." she licked her lips, "...I have been inspired. Yes, I said to myself, these two need help finding their way. At the same time, though? I don't believe a should do that for free, oh no," the woman shook her head, her long, silky hair falling backwards. "Give me more inspiration, little stars. Show me the depth of your devotion to one another. Make it, hmm, interesting, so that my imagination may run wild. I assume you aren't starved for ideas by now, are you, Verity?" she gave her a knowing, knowing smile.

 

[starboob]

♕ PRINCESS VERITY (EXILED) ♕​

Almost immediately, Verity is suspect of the pirate's explanation for her fall. It is possible that the princess is limited by her own experience, but she does think that it must be a rare occurrence where one's knees buckles because she is watching her companion eat some fruit. Naturally, her mind wanders to the innuendos and hidden meanings in fruits and she has to question what exactly had been going through the captain's mind. She is tempted to ask, absolutely for her own benefit, but she decides to remain silent on the issue for now, her thoughts only revealed by a tiny simper. "I do admit, those peaches were quite odd so I suppose it is not entirely outside the realm of possibilities. Blessed by such a powerful mother, there is no telling what those little ones were capable of," she agrees, pulling the peach out of her bag to continue to munch on it, offering it to her friend intermittently. (After all, they cannot hold their end of the bargain if they waste the peach. Personally, Verity would rather not incur the wrath of a deity such as Hryzn.)

As they begin the ascent up the steps, the princess cranes her neck upwards and all around, admiring whatever land or realm they have found themselves in. It is unlike any place she has ever visited––save for the various parallel rooms inside of Inure, but those, she can tell, are artificial environments. This, on the other hand, feels far too real to be a simulation. She is tempted to grab Iskra's hand, just to be sure that this is all real, but she falls a few steps behind the pirate when she admits just how the princess has affected her. (To be the reason for another's color is most sacred to the princess––to inspire someone the way she has apparently inspired the pirate? Oh, she only hopes that she can continue to live up to the pirate's expectations. Not that she even feels pressured, for she gets the idea that simply being herself is what moves Iskra the most.) She has to blink a few Times to bring herself back to reality. "Then I am glad to hear that this strangeness has only brought wonder to your Life. It would be rather heavy to realize that we both have not benefitted from our meeting," she replies, only suggesting, at first, the effect that Iskra has had. She does eventually add, "I thank the stars that chance allowed our paths to cross. I think you have shown me how to be, you see. Before you, I felt hidden by others' perception of myself or the expectations that were placed on my shoulders. I acted, admittedly, in ways I felt others wanted to me to and since meeting you? It has become easier to shed all the costumes and masks. When I am with you, I really only want to be myself," she beams, holding back nothing from Iskra.

When they finally reach the top of the steps, she does not even have a moment to catch her breath before it is stolen from her again. Though it is not hard to take the princess's breath away when it comes to Nature, this garden is such a sight that it inspires hope within her––perhaps because it is so full of Life. The air is so crisp and sweet, the grass sways below their knees, the sound of running water, a woman bathing in a... oh. Hmm. There really is little room for the imagination. The princess's cheeks instantly color as she tries to keep her eyes up––completely caught off guard as she had not been expecting to walk in on a presumably private moment. 'My, she is breathtaking. Who is this woman, blessed by Beauty, I wonder?'

Then the woman speaks and her voice is sweeter than a song, and the princess practically melts. She could listen to this woman talk for hours with how pleasing her cadence. (Not to say she has forgotten about her companion, do not be ridiculous. The princess is not so shallow as to jump to the next woman who catches her flight fancy––that was the old Verity, to be sure, but the new one that Iskra has inspired? Far more assure of herself and where she has already placed her heart. Merely, no one can really blame Verity for getting so caught up in this woman, for she is art.)

Now, what the woman suggests? Verity can hardly believe herself. She even looks behind herself to see if perhaps she is speaking to some other princess and pirate pairing, but they are the only ones in this ethereal garden. And this woman, this mysterious woman, wants to compose a poem about them and she hardly feels they have done anything to earn such recognition! Yet, this woman seems to see something in them. Is she a prophet? An oracle? Oh, Verity knows not. All she knows is that they must impress this woman. Nodding very slowly, the princess reluctantly pulls her eyes away from the woman with endless ebony hair, dusted in constellations. Of course, when her gaze lands on Iskra, it softens from the sparkles of wonder to the warmth only a home's hearth can provide.

"Iskra, may I have this dance?" the princess asks, her tone even and assured. Though Iskra better be careful, because the dance she is asking for? She wants to take them back to their first. The very first. She pulls her sword from her sheath and stands on guard. "We shall show you another meaning of when sparks fly, your grace," she says, addressing the woman in the water with a grin.

She touches the tip of her sword to Iskra's in a teasing manner just before the match starts. Just as the princess had promised, sparks fly between the two women. However, while this mimics a duel one has to wonder if the princess and pirate are, in fact, dancing, for their movements appear choreographed. Each step is matched, each swing and slash carefully blocked or dodged––while neither woman appears to be holding back, there also appears to be a certain trust between pirate and princess that neither will do the other harm. That they can wield their weapons with such precision and turn it into a true artform, speaks to their own attunement with another. Even Verity hardly knows what is on purpose and what is on accident; all she knows is that there is a synergy between them guiding her every move.

At a certain point, the pair end up some distance away from each other and Verity takes this moment to put her hand up in pause. She then sheaths her sword, though she does not suggest that she is yielding... so just what is going on? The princess takes three long strides towards the pirate and outstretches her hand in a dramatic sweeping fashion, "Now that we have warmed up, let us finish this dance properly."

 

[Syntra]

What, Iskra wanted to ask, was the meaning of this? As in, the meaning of everything? This woman, beautiful as she was, had no right to demand such a thing of them-- no right to even know the depth of their devotion, really, much less to wish for a tangible proof. (Besides, how could you even hope to measure such a thing? What units were you supposed to use? Meters wouldn’t work, nor would liters, and if there was a unit that would… ah, Iskra knew it not. She didn’t, and she didn’t wish to know it, either. The obsessive need to quantify everything must have been a curse from the gods, designed to drive all of them mad! Oh no, no, no, the pirate wouldn’t fall for the trap. Trying to gauge the weight of her feelings for the princess, you see, would have been like attempting to count the number of droplets in an ocean. Who would engage in such a fruitless task, even? Certainly not her.) “By what right do you ask this of us?” Iskra asked, narrowing her eyes. “You have failed to introduce yourself, lady, and yet, yet you feel entitled to the secrets of our hearts. Does that not strike you as odd? As inappropriate?”

Verity, however, seemed to be on board, and so the pirate’s resistance evaporated the moment she drew her sword. (…did she doubt her intentions? Oh, not for a nanosecond. The time of doubts was something they’d left behind-- a large, ugly stain in the background, not to be forgotten, but instead remembered. With that reminder always fresh in her mind, Iskra knew, never again would they return to it! Never, never, never. The blade which glimmered faintly in the moonlight, thirsty for blood? Oh, something like that couldn’t scare her. Verity was wielding, you see, not some villain, and Verity wouldn’t hurt her. Not again, anyway. Why would she have begged for forgiveness, only to shatter the newly-earned trust later? No, her princess wasn’t that kind of woman. Deception she wore easily, in the same way others wore jewelry, but to aim that knife at her neck… Impossible. Too painful to even contemplate, too.) Driven by some strange instinct, Iskra unsheathed her sword as well. Automatically, her body assumed the correct position, and, ah! Their weapons clashed, sparks flying from the blades. So this is what this is about, isn’t it? Very well, then. I see you, and I recognize you. Let’s give her the spectacle you yearn for, my guiding star.

And so they danced their deadly dance, only punctuated by the sounds of steel. Again and again and again, their swords met, and from each such meeting, a geyser of stars was born-- their limbs moved in unison, too, as if they were following actual steps. Beautiful, the pirate said to herself, entirely overwhelmed. Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful. (If the woman didn’t appreciate such a performance, Iskra knew, then that would point to her heart being frozen. A barren, icy wasteland, akin to that which she had once thought could be found in her own soul. …had thought, as in past perfect tense. What did she think now, actually? What, what, what? Once, everything had seemed so obvious, so beautifully clear-cut-- all the questions had been answered for her, long before she’d even dared to ask them. And, in contrast? In contrast, Iskra was wandering through fog, so thick one couldn’t see one’s own nose. …maybe that wasn’t necessarily wrong, though. Had she not broken her chains so that she could think for herself, after all? To ponder, truly ponder, over all the mysteries that had been denied to her?)

“Yes,” Iskra exhaled, and pulled Verity closer. This whole ordeal still rubbed her the wrong way, oh, it did, it did, but as of now? The pirate couldn’t care less. The strange woman, the shady manner in which they’d been transported there, the mysterious demands with no logic behind them-- all of that mattered less than last year’s snow, truly, for she got to bask in the princess’s warmth. “Let us dance, Verity. Let us make her understand that, before us, she has never really witnessed a real dance before.” Iskra’s only regret was that Verity wasn’t wearing a dress, because the way she spun her around? The skirts would have swirled and swished delightfully, making her look like a rose in bloom. (It was magical. Magical and unbearable both, somehow, since being so close to her… well, it did things to Iskra. Forbidden things, most likely, though ah, how could they be wrong when it all felt so right? Yet another riddle for her to crack, when she had some time for herself.)

“Delightful, delightful!” the woman clapped when they finally parted, breathing heavily. “Truly, I have never seen anything more worthy of being immortalized in a poem. You’ve exceeded all of my expectations. Will you join me in the fountain, then? I’ve discovered, you see, that water helps your thoughts flow better.” Presumably, Verity wanted this, right? Otherwise she wouldn’t have agreed to this stranger’s peculiar request, and jumped through all the hoops. With that in mind, Iskra ignored her own discomfort, and indeed let herself relax in the water.

“A princess and a pirate, a pirate and a princess. Hmm, hmm, yes, the poem will write itself, I can tell. Still, though, don’t you think that there should be a more epic sort of a climax?” the woman raised her eyebrow. “From what I’ve known, you’ve experienced countless adventures so far, but the greatest of your goals has been eluding you. The truest one, I mean. I can tell, with earth-shattering certainty, that inspiration would come more easily to me if you resumed your journey. Themes are important, Verity. Surely, you understand that? And in order for you to find a satisfying ending, you have to go right to the beginning-- to the very thing that brought you together, misguided as it was. Won’t you search for the wayfinder, after all? The circumstances have shifted, so you are not the same people who once coveted it so. You’ve learned your lessons. And, with your minds clear, don’t you think that there are many goals to be accomplished with the artifact?”

 

[starboob]

♕ PRINCESS VERITY (EXILED) ♕​

If the arrangement strikes the princess as odd or absurd, she does not show it. If anything, she appears far too spellbound by the moment to actually think it strange that she is being asked to prove her devotion to Iskra for a woman they have never met. A woman who failed to introduce herself, no less. Still, nothing within the princess is screaming danger––perhaps too enticed by the idea of being immortalized in a poem and some innate thing in her telling her that she can trust this woman (who somehow already knows so much about them). Worry is hardly on Verity's mind. Even if such a thing were to exist in her, it would be easily soothed knowing that mighty foes have fallen at the hands of the princess and pirate. More than that, she knows that Iskra would never let harm come to her––the pirate would sooner sacrifice herself before allowing the princess to fall, which is why the princess must be twice as careful to ensure that never happens.

As the princess is gathered into her pirate's arms, she feels that all the peace in the galaxy must exist here. (A rather odd thought to have knowing that Iskra's story has been full of war and trouble and how her own has been wrought with the same. Yet that does not change the princess's feeling of serenity––for everything they have done and lived through, it amazes her that she can still feel this way. For once there was a Time when she had been certain the sun would never shine again; but if every sun starts as a spark then it makes sense that Iskra would have the power to be her sunshine.) Each Time Iskra spins her around, Verity's eyes never leave her; and every chance she has, she makes sure to keep her body pressed flush to her companion. There is no room to doubt her Desire and with the display of sword earlier? There is no reason to doubt her devotion either––for only ones who have forged a bond in trust can dance dangerously without holding back.

When the strange woman claps, reminding Verity that they have an audience, she grins and takes a bow. Of course, she is not going to deny the woman's invitation but she does not undress down to her bare skin. Instead she only kicks off her shoes and socks and enters the watered fully clothed. (Yes, while the princess is not modest and likely does not believe in it as a concept or virtue, she would prefer to... oh, she doesn't know exactly how to put it. There is a part of her that wants to let Iskra, and only Iskra, be the next woman to see her nakedness. She wants there to be something for Iskra's imagination to chew on before that moment happens. Since she has already shown so much of herself, she needs to make these moments more rare so that the pirate is starved of them. Maybe then she will not be so shy about ripping the rest of Verity's dress off.) She leans agains the back of the fountain, taking the seat next to her friend. While the woman speaks, Verity's eyes find themselves glued to Iskra and there is the sudden temptation to run her fingers through her hair. The only thing that interrupts her? The woman addressing Verity, of course!

Immediately, her eyes snap over to the mystery, full of the embarrassment of a student who has been caught not paying attention to the lecture and must now pretend that, no, that was not so, actually. Though as she catches up with the conversation? Her brow furrows together and everything from her face falls at the mention of that quest. That object. Her blood runs cold. Memories of that before flood her and with those, her utter shame. 'Who does this woman think she is, demanding such a thing from us?' because, yes, only now does the princess resist the woman and her asks, for she cannot know the Pain that quest caused them both. And to return to it? To return to that place again? A fool's errand. The pattern has been set and she...

Well, the truth is, she doesn't exactly see them returning to their old ways. There is a reason all the pieces fell as they did the last Time they pursued the quest and those reasons are null and void at this point. (She hadn't realized it until the woman pointed it out, perhaps much too scared to even think about the wayfinder.) "I am shocked that you are requesting such a thing from us. I am shocked that you even seem to know the unfortunate circumstances," to put it most lightly, "that led to our abandoning of the mission. I find it most audacious and I have half the mind to be insulted that you would ask to return just so that you may be inspired to write our poem," she replies, clearly indignant and it's unclear whether Verity will even consider the nameless woman's suggestion. "You must have no concern for us if you know what that endeavor wrought upon our souls and yet you still ask us to resume."

"Forgive me, Verity, but you are mistaken. I do care for you both and that is why I bring up the wayfinder. Do you not wonder of your higher purpose? Do you not wish to know why the wayfinder chose you both, princess and pirate, as its seekers? I see before me two souls that are too scared to return to their ultimate failing," the woman replies, somehow making their ultimate failure sound romantic, "and who will remain stuck if they are not given a proper nudge."

To that, Verity rolls her eyes and shakes her head, still unhearing, before turning towards Iskra, "I mean, what do you even make of this? Am I being unreasonable to not want to go back to that place again? I am just..." she trails off, clearly torn. She supposes, she isn't entirely opposed to seeking out the wayfinder once more. As a descendant, she is infinitely curious what the object even is and what it is capable of; as a princess, she knows she will want to bring this artifact back home to free her people; as a gatekeeper to this technology... she still does not know how she feels about Iskra having a claim to it. As guilty as she feels for admitting that, because she does trust the woman, immeasurably, and this is a precious relic. Her knee-jerk reaction is to deny anyone access to her people's technologies. (Yet, has she not permitted pirates to operate Inure?) She chews on the corner of her lip before continuing again, worry coloring each word, "Iskra, is it enough that we are different people?"

 

[Syntra]

Had this woman ever heard of, say, boundaries? Or, if not boundaries, then at least of the concept of not sticking her nose where it didn’t belong? The pirate had thought it to be common knowledge, but apparently, she’d been terribly mistaken. (Was that so strange, abandoning their old task? It had been built on nothing but lies, lies and misunderstandings, and then they’d topped it off via watering that wretched tree with blood. What else could they have done with it, other than felling it? Left unchecked, it would have grown, grown, grown, and eventually strangled them with the roots. …it was the same with people, really. Once they’d tasted blood, once they felt the metallic sharpness on their tongues, there was no going back. The point of no return was marked with the suffering of others, oh yes, yes! And now… now this woman, who didn’t even have the decency to introduce herself, wanted them to relive those events. Why? Would it please her muse, maybe? Conflict, Iskra had heard, was the heart of every story-- both its heart, and also the lifeblood coursing through its veins. Was it not natural, then, that she would like to reintroduce it into their relationship? Them becoming bitter enemies would have made for a compelling plot, after all.)

“Woman,” Iskra began, with badly hidden contempt, “do you have any idea what it is that you are asking of us? Do you realize the gravity of the situation, and what kind of burden you are putting on our shoulders? You may not realize, but I am a captain, first and foremost. My job is to ensure that my ship will not sail in dangerous waters if they can be avoided. Now, why would I pursue the wayfinder, when hunting it consistently led us to the darkest of places? To our own doom? I understand that, for you, this must all be tremendously entertaining, but we are speaking about our lives here. About our actual experiences. We are not characters in your story, nor are we props that you can use as you see fit! And besides,” she added, her words practically dripping with poison, “if you cannot think of an engaging poem without all that melodrama, it says more about your skills as a poet than it says about us.”

…had her words reached her, even? Because the woman wasn’t watching her with the rage of an insulted artist, but instead with what could only be described as mild amusement-- mischievous sparks were dancing in her eyes, too, and nothing even hinted at a wounded ego. “Your words, pirate, cut deeper than your sword. Have you considered becoming a writer? Truly, this talent of yours should not be wasted. But, you see, I am not actually doing this because of myself,” she ran her hand through her wet, luscious hair. “Ultimately, it will be you who will benefit from the endeavor, not me. Iskra, my pirate, don’t you know that abandoning one’s tasks leaves a stain on one’s fate? Seeking the wayfinder wasn’t a mistake-- it was just a mission that you weren’t prepared for, at the time. Still, the lesson you have derived from your search was valuable, wasn’t it? Had it not been for the mistakes you’ve made together, you wouldn’t have known what to fix. I doubt you would have been able to reach that stage naturally, without any outside indicator.” That… was a surprisingly good point, Iskra had to admit. (Perhaps their situation could have been likened to broken bones? Broken bones that had healed incorrectly, and thus remained stuck in unnatural shapes. Such bones, of course, had to be re-broken. The process was never pleasant, but it was necessary, you see? And perhaps, perhaps her and Verity had had to hit the rock bottom, if only so that they could use it to get back to the surface. Hmm, hmm. The pirate had never considered that angle, had she? Well, perhaps she ought to.)

“There might be some truth to her words,” Iskra finally said, still somewhat uncomfortable. “Everything about this is suspicious, true, but that doesn’t really invalidate her advice. Thoughts, I think, should be judged according to their merit, not according to who voiced them. That being said… I don’t think that not wanting to return is unreasonable. I have no desire to do that, either. It makes sense to avoid painful experiences, doesn’t it? It’s the most basic of instincts. Nothing to be ashamed of, really. At the same time, though? We did agree that we still wanted to help your people in some capacity, Verity. What if the wayfinder is the only real route to that? I just…” she gulped, “…I just don’t know. The decision weighs on me, like a stone around my neck. One thing, though-- we aren’t entering any contract here, are we? With ourselves, perhaps, but that doesn’t count. There will be no official documents, no royal seals. Who says we can’t try, at least? If we find out that it is still too painful, or that this path simply wasn’t meant for us, we can always choose another way. Nobody will judge us for that. What I’m trying to say, I suppose, is that perhaps it’s too early to throw the opportunity away. We’ve passed the first trial, if nothing else, so maybe we’ll be able to pass the others as well? If we adjust our mindset, that is. I am not going to force you, Verity, but…” the pirate shrugged, “I am not entirely opposed, myself. I mean, I doubt you could possibly learn of secrets that are even more horrifying than what you know about me already.”

 

[starboob]

♕ PRINCESS VERITY (EXILED) ♕​

As Verity recalls, when Iskra and herself had agreed to join each other's company again it had not been for the purpose of finding the wayfinder. It had been for the purpose of exploration, adventure, intrigue––really, following their hearts' Desires to their content. And the princess has been quite alright not looking for the lost relic. She enjoys this new Life with Iskra where the days are never long enough, laughter and joy thrives, and in that there is always something to look forward to. To go after the wayfinder again? Well, technically Verity knows they have not been barred from the trials. As she recalls, the water sage who left them had issued a warning as well as an invitation to try the trial again. Even so, to go back to that place fills her with so much anxiety and dread that she does think she could pass out at this very moment. It's not even that she thinks they will regress back to their old ways, but even considering taking a step towards what they used to do seems like a risk and one she does not want to take. Why can they not simply continue as they are? She is happy enough spending her days with Iskra and learning all there is to know about the captain.

With her eyes trained on the ripples in the water, it is hard to tell whether or not Verity is listening to the pirate. (It's just hard to let go of all of her resistance to this mission. Though there is something soothing about what Iskra says and how she poses this new opportunity as something they can consider, but are not forever bound to? She likes the freedom of being able to run at a moment's notice, should things get out of hand. There's something else, too, hidden in what the pirate says––an implication that she does trust Verity enough to pursue this again. If that is her wish. Despite everything that happened last Time. (Verity can still hear their last fight echo in her ears like a bell. 'I hate you, I hate you, I hate you.') Also, that Iskra would pursue this for her people and not for her own cause? The princess really isn't sure what to make of that.) It's just all so overwhelming. She rubs her temples, nodding slowly to signal that she is listening to her companion. Her hands fall into the water with a splash and she lets out an exasperated sigh. "I do suppose that I would have regrets were we not to try again or if we were to start again when it is too late," considering Iskra's condition, now could even be a moment too late. "My Fears moving forward likely mirror your own, because I am scared of losing you again and I suppose that even I know nothing like what took you away from me the first Time will happen again. I just have my reservations, still."

"I also think that it is too early to decide what our purpose should be if we are deemed worthy enough to claim this relic," she says, looking at Iskra directly. "As much as I appreciate your want to aid my people's cause, I do not want to ignore the reason you even thought to seek it out for yourself. I do not think I could move forward knowing what I know. The guilt would eat me alive, Iskra. So let us wait to even see what this relic even is before deciding how we might use its power."

"Besides, I do not want these trials to be our only focus. There are still many things that I want to see and do, and if I change my mind, or if you start to feel that our priorities ought to be rearranged, then we can shift. But for now, I still want to enjoy other wonders with you," she finishes, her tone shifting from anxious to comfort. It doesn't frighten her as much to pursue the wayfinder having heard what Iskra has to say and how she is equally cautious and willing to go back to their start. (And, maybe, now Verity can see the poetry in going back to their start. This Time, they can do it right and she trusts that they will. Iskra will never hurt her and she will never hurt Iskra––not on purpose, at least, and should they hurt again? She does think they can work through it after everything they have been through.) "Let's give it an honest try this Time and see how far we make it––I expect these trials will be grueling and hence the need for our other adventures."

"Splendid," the woman sighs, rising from the water and smoothing her slicked hair backwards, "Just as suspected, all you needed was a nudge to see the path you should be on. Farewell, pirate and princess. Set back on your path, you shall hear your poem sung in due Time." With that the woman disappears in a mist and in her place? The water sage from the second trail rises from the fountain. She peers at the two seekers curiously, then offers a welcoming smile, "Welcome back, seekers. Are you ready to bare your souls in earnest?"

 

[Syntra]

"Reservations are good," Iskra said, her voice barely louder than whisper. (She would have loved to reach for the princess, too, to caress her cheek, but in front of their host? In front of that wicked stranger, seemingly so starved for drama? No, she didn't deserve to witness something as pure. All she would get would be breadcrumbs from their table, dry as desert itself!) "They are there, I've learned, in order to protect your heart from pain. At the same time, however, what is the harm in trying? You know the darkest secrets of my soul already, Verity. Again and again and again, I've forced them down your throat. The things you'd witness now... they'd be different, I'd wager." Yes, very different, indeed! The images of her past deeds, drenched in blood and suffering? Iskra had showed them to Verity intentionally, knowing that they painted her as a villain-- as a beast whose hunger could never be sated, no matter how many sacrifices had been brought at her feet. Could she blame the princess for buying into the illusion, then? No, no, surely not! Not when Iskra had been the one to construct it, brick after brick. "I have to admit," she continued, "that I chose those memories on purpose. They weren't false, of course not, but I do think they helped to construct a false narrative. A one-sided story. At the time, I was... distant from you, you see? Emotionally, I mean. Becoming truly vulnerable around you was a prospect that caused me great pain, and so I showed you only that which I've hardened myself to already. It was a devious test, I think-- one you couldn't have passed at the time. It was like throwing you into a river before teaching you how to swim. For that, I apologize. It won't happen anymore, I swear on my honor."

Besides, the pirate thought, this time, we'll know what we're getting into. There will be ample opportunity for us to prepare for the trial, too. ...or not. At this point, should it shock her that the guardian emerged from the water? Probably not, but her breath hitched nonetheless. (Had that weird woman from before been real, even? She had seemed that way, at least to Iskra's untrained eye, but eyes could be inaccurate witnesses. So, so easily they could lie to you, and you wouldn't even think to question their little deceptions! Because if you did, you see, everything would become suspended in uncertainty-- in that poisonous mist that made it hard to move, much less breathe. No, human beings weren't made to withstand that.)

"I suppose that I am," Iskra nodded. "As ready as I will ever be, that is. Let me try first, as a token of good will." The water was cold, cold but soothing, and so the pirate allowed it to take her away-- to the place of memories, where broken wishes dwelled and silly hopes warmed their frozen fingers above a hearth. (Images were drifting before her mind's eye, some sharp and others less so. Which one should she pick for the princess to see, though? Which of them could be used to pave a way to mutual understanding? So many leads, so little time! ...but, ah, this one could do, probably.)

The scenery to which Verity opened her eyes was familiar, truly. The grey skies, and the quiet buzzing of machines in the background? The concrete monotony of, well, pretty much everything? Iskra's home planet, clearly. (Her guide from before was gone, though. Nobody approached her, even if she stood still-- alone she was, alone but not abandoned, for with some half-forgotten instinct, she could sense the real Iskra watching over her. Perhaps the pirate simply believed her this time? Believed her to handle herself, as opposed to having to rely on someone else to shape her perceptions of what was about to happen? Perhaps, and perhaps not.)

It could have been late afternoon, or maybe a young evening, but the training grounds were teeming with activity. Dozens of young soldiers were practicing their swings-- easily, an uninitiated observer could come to the conclusion that they were a single being, connected via invisible threads. Yes, yes, that was how synchronized their movements were! Among them, Iskra's younger self stood, too. Relentlessly, she waved her blade, again and again and again, to slash the invisible enemy before her. ...was that what the pirate had wished to show her, for some reason? To prove her own tenacity? No, no, that couldn't be it! And it wasn't, as it turned out.

The girl standing next to her, a dark-haired, lithe thing, suddenly gasped. Her knees buckled under her weight-- exhaustion, perhaps? Gods only knew how long they'd been training there, but judging by Iskra's sweat-drenched clothes, it couldn't have been a quick affair. Not in the slightest. Others continued to practice, as if the fallen comrade was but a decoration to them, but then... "Aglaya," Iskra whispered, dropping on her knees. "Aglaya, are you--" Something swished above her head then, and a scarlet wave of pain ran across her back.

"Get up," the woman, presumably her overseer, commanded. "Continue with your training."

"But Aglaya is--"

"Aglaya? I know nobody who bears that name."

That seemed to anger the young Iskra, for her hands balled into fists."Nobody? She lies before you, lieutenant Nysra. She's been sick for days, and I believe this may have been the straw to break the camel's back. I ask for the official permission to escort her to the hospital."

"Why? Do you believe corpses should take up the precious space there?"

"Wha--"

How she drew her blade that quickly, that was something Iskra had never understood. In one moment, it was tied to her back-- in the other, she was holding it in her back. 'No,' Iskra wanted to say, 'no, no, no,' but it was late, too late, because the sword was falling, falling, falling! ...she could only watch, with wide eyes, as it pierced Aglaya's neck. (A kind way to go, she supposed. Better than exhaustion, better than dehydration. Maybe, in a way, this was mercy?)

"Don't look at me like that, Iskra. Don't you see that it was you who killed her? Yes, yes, through showcasing her weakness! My hand may have done the deed, but you guided it." ...was that why everyone was staring with such hatred at her now? Oh, by the Shade. "Remember that this world has no place for ones such as her, because a good instrument doesn't break. Now, return to your training. Do that, and never forget that lesson."

 

[starboob]

♕ PRINCESS VERITY (EXILED) ♕​

Verity's memoryscape appears differently than before. In place of a frozen world, filled with frozen Veritys, there is one large cherry blossom tree in full bloom. It is growing at the edge of a pond that has mirror-like water. The tree itself is so large that it would probably take three or four Iskras to wrap her arms around it successfully. A gentle wind brushes through the petals and one of the blossoms breaks off and lands in the mirror-pond. When it touches the water, the ripples change the water from a mirror image to a scene. And when the pirate looks into the scene? She gets sucked into the memory itself.

...
​

Ah, here the young princess is, likely no older than nineteen, running through an elaborate garden with floating trees, bright flora, a gentle running stream with fish swimming happily in the water. While the princess is most likely safe, she does appear to be running from something.

Or rather... someone.

"Princess? Princess, come on. I am supposed to escort you to the studio for your lessons," a voice calls out some distance away. Though Verity doesn't respond. In fact, she looks annoyed and quickly jumps onto one of the floating flower beds and tucks herself away from sight as the bed rises higher into the air. "Ah, Crow is going to murder me," the voice mutters, much closer now, and when Verity cautiously peers over the edge of the elevated bed? That reveals the speaker is none other than Osmunda, her guard. "Never let the princesses out of your sight, she said, and what do I do? Just that, ugh..." her voice trails off as she drifts further and further into the garden.

Once Verity is certain her guard has abandoned the garden, she is about to hop out of her hiding spot until the sound of the queen's voice and her Council reach the princess's ears. Her eyes seem to sparkle with something mischievous as she hides herself from sight once again.

"The princesses have all found their projects to pursue. Halen will be investing in our military strategy and warfare technologies, Seraphina... well, we assigned her a reality show; honestly, the further away she is from people and governance the better. Oh, and the peasant girl,"

"Verity," the queen corrects.

"Right," the Council woman rolls her eyes, "she has taken on equitable access to education. It's rather popular, actually, and she has gathered the support of a few noblewomen. But worry not, my queen, after next week's talk show panel, all will see how inept she is to handle such an ambitious task. I have come up with some questions for Lorena to ask that will surely stump her. That should keep her ratings low."

...​

The scene shifts rapidly, faster than Iskra can blink, really, and soon the pirate finds herself sitting next Verity at what appears to be a council meeting of sorts. The young princess looks agitated, as if she is literally biting her tongue as the queen and the Council members talk.

"I believe the solution to the colony riots is quite simple," the queen says, "We must yoke them until they learn to appreciate what we have to offer. I recommend cutting off their power grids and water supply. They ought to learn not take our resources for granted. Once they are subdued, we shall get them working the––"

"That's savage," Verity finally bursts, all eyes drawing towards the young princess––Halen looks shocked, Seraphina looks amused, the queen quirks a brow, and almost every Council member glares at her. "We are talking about people, your majesty, not droids or livestock. Yoke them? What does that even mean? You speak of the colonies being great for Aurora, but I have yet to see how that is true. Aurora can barely support herself, anyone from my region can tell you that, so how is it even responsible to expand?"

"Verity," the queen starts, her tone cool which is somehow more intimidating than anger, "I will forgive your outburst, because you are still young, naïve, and have much to learn. The people in the colonies are suffering only because they have not chosen compliance. It does not warm my heart that we must resort to Violence to control these people, but they have made it necessary. And to your point about Aurora's resources? You are right, we have not been able to feed our citizens. You and Seraphina both ought to understand this firsthand, and that is why we chose expansion. You see, the isles around Aurora have less wilds and more nutrient rich soil. The people in the colonies will earn their full rights as citizens through servitude. Seventy percent of their crops shall be taken as tax for the first six generations of rulership. After which, we expect them to be integrated as full citizens. This, we believe, is fair."

"My queen, forgive me, but this is reprehensible and will not be remembered kindly by the histories––just how can you even spin this as beneficial to those in the colonies? We are stealing from them. If they are to be our citizens, we must treat them as such. I cannot back such measures. I shall not."

"But you will, princess," one Council woman interjects, her eyes burning holes into the young princess. "Worry not about how you will be remembered, for we have storytellers who know how to flatter even dung. Only worry about what will happen should you refuse to give your support. I have it on good authority, Verity," she spits the name like it is particularly disgusting morsel, "that the noblewomen sponsoring those precious schools of yours, would not be happy were you to pull support. They have a vested interest in the colonies. The choice, of course, is yours."

...
​

The scene shifts once again. This Time around, Iskra seems to be sitting front row to a live talk show. The three princesses are all sitting next to each other on a couch; it goes Halen, Seraphina, Verity. The host sits in a grandiose chair with a warm smile on her overly painted face.

"So," the host of the show begins, "what is it like living in the palace? I imagine it's not much a change for you, princess Halen, but what about for you two?"

"Well, it's much nicer than the commons where all the gladiators live," Seraphina jokes, "in that you don't have to worry about your roommate waking you up by pressing a knife to your neck, forcing you to kill her before breakfast."

The host, as well as Halen and Verity, laugh awkwardly. "Ha... what a delightful change of pace this must be for you then, princess Seraphina," the host clears her throat and quickly turns the attention to Verity, "and you, princess?"

"Oh, well it is much different than a small two bedroom apartment for ten people. I think, in the palace, even the flies have their own rooms."

"I can imagine! I believe when queen Aurora first built it, it had over 1,300 rooms and it's only been expanded on since," she laughs. Then she transitions the topic, "Now, I know that you three are all scheduled to visit the isles that were successfully annexed a decade before your service began. I imagine that you all have also heard of the riots taking place? What are your thoughts on that? Verity, why don't you start––you've given us such great answers," the host says, also giving the young princess a knowing look of warning.

"Ah..." the princess's cheeks suddenly flush and her mouth feels parched. She reaches over for the glass of water sitting in front of her, taking a sip, before she is able to wave off her possible hesitancy with a bubbly giggle, "The people in the colonies are strong," she starts, looking behind the stage where one of the queen's eyes and ears is watching, "and have the same fighting spirit we all have. I think... I think they shall make a great Auroans someday. The riots are unfortunate, but I believe the people of the colonies will realize what wealth we have to offer them in due Time."

 

[Syntra]

The scenery rippled then, much like the surface of a pond after a stone had disrupted its peace, and slowly, everything began to shift. Colors, sounds, feelings-- everything, everything blended in the most confusing of ways, and when the dust finally settled? Verity found herself standing inside of that grim palace, where her trust in Iskra had shattered once. (Would that be different this time? The pirate had promised, sure, but words were wind, oh, they were, they were! ...perhaps even greater darkness dwelled in her chest, unseen to the naked eye. Beneath the facade of warmth, it could have been lurking, ready to rip its next victim's throat out. Would it desire her blood, then? Her blood, her soul, her everything? The bond they'd managed to re-forge, too? There was no way to know, truly-- one could only watch, patiently, as the events unfolded. ...was this a memory, or a prison? From time to time, the two could be synonymous, it seemed.)

In the previous vision, the palace had been shrouded in silence, which stood in direct contrast to what it looked like now. It... almost seemed as if there was some celebration going on? A very quiet, very restrained celebration, but something akin to it nonetheless. The halls, usually so empty, were brimming over with people-- people from all walks of life, if one could judge by their clothes. There were women young and old, tall and short, beautiful and ugly, and everything in between. The whole spectrum was covered, really, with the thoroughness that only Mother Nature herself was capable of! They spoke to one another, too, in voices both loud and quiet.

"Have you been looking forward to this day, sweetest of sisters?"

"Ah, yes, yes, most certainly. I am so blessed to be here!"

"Personally, I cannot wait to see what the Holiest of Vessels has prepared for us. This year is supposed to be spectacular, I heard."

"Spectacularly cruel, you mean."

"Shhh! Do you want anyone to hear you, Elea?!"

"Last year, there were colorful doves! Colorful doves, in order to deliver the message of peace."

"...the doves we ate afterward? That's, uh, some pretty questionable symbolism."

"Oh, shush. Would you like to not eat instead? Feel free to mourn every pig, cow and hen that met its maker in some slaughterhouse-- I'll be over here, enjoying my delicious steak."

"Ugh, how barbaric. Is there not a drop of mercy in your veins, Ashewa?"

"I wonder why the Holy Vessel chose us, specifically! Such an honor."

"Queen Lellenei herself speaks to her, my child. It is known that she whispers into her ear, and in doing so, imparts upon her the wisdom of the ages."

"Well, I think that Lellenei should get her memory checked by some healer, then--"

"Ashewa!"

Iskra, ever the queen's shadow, stood next to throne. Her eyes were vigilant, and her face could have been carved of stone-- looking at her, one might truly come to the conclusion that the pirate was actually in a coma. (In a coma, or dead, perhaps. Did such technicalities matter, though? Life had left her body ages ago, regardless of her official status.) "Iskra, my dearest," the Holy Vessel, wrapped in colorful veils, spoke up. "What do you think about our glorious festival?"

"I think nothing at all, your highness. It is not my place to think."

The woman's giggle was girlish, almost. "Well, well! You're a fast learner, aren't you? After the Estrelle incident, I thought you didn't have it in you, but I suppose that even vessels are fallible. Nevermind, though. I'm so, so happy you came around! Had you persisted in your silliness, I wouldn't have been able to... hmm, share this joy with you. Yes, yes! Faithful service brings its fruits, Iskra. And, oh, so sweet they are-- sweeter than the smell of a fresh corpse, or the taste of blood upon your lips. Tell me, Iskra, be so kind: have you ever tasted it? Blood, I mean."

"Yes. I have bitten my lip before, your highness."

"Oh, but you're no fun! I didn't mean it like that, Iskra. Your own blood is no good, the ancient texts say. The Wise Women claim that, if you drink an enemy's blood, their power transfers to you. Could that be true, I wonder?"

"That is doubtful, your highness. There are no studies which would support such an assertion. Moreover, I am fairly sure that if that were the case, the phenomenon would have been utilized in the Seeds' training."

"Pah! Perhaps we are still limited by our moral, dearest Iskra. It may very well be so, but if nobody thinks to test the hypothesis? The potential will forever be lost, and our hands bound. Such a cruel, cruel fate!"

"..."

"Very well," the Holy Vessel smiled, her eyes sharp like a knife even from behind the veil, "we shall see. Today, I should think."

The chatter from around the throne room quieted, possibly because of the guards. All of them lifted their arms, you see? Lifted their arms, and pointed three fingers towards the sky. (Hmm, mysterious. Some sort of signal, clearly!) The Holy Vessel herself stood from her throne, and looked over the masses.

"Welcome, blessed ones. Welcome! For your extraordinary faithfulness, you've been chosen. Today, you get to bask in the presence of your rightful queen. As it is the anniversary of our great victory over the whales, I have decided to grant you a great gift, too-- you may pick a representative among you, and she will be allowed to ask me questions. I will answer them honestly, to the best of my ability." The Holy Vessel may have thrown a grenade into the crowd, truly, and still, still it would have caused a smaller uproar! Collectively, it seemed, the women were about to faint. (Whispers spread among them like wildfire, really. Weren't they oh so lucky?)

"My words, however, are pearls," she added after the subjects calmed down somewhat, "and I don't think it wise to give them away for free. Oh no, no, no. Wouldn't you say that would diminish their value?" The sea of heads nodded, as if it was one large, monstrous creature. "Then, for each question, offer me a sacrifice. You are allowed to choose them, in the same way you may choose your representative. That way, you will think about your questions long and hard! Iskra?" she turned to her soldier, all innocent. "I hope your sword is sharp enough. I have a feeling, you see, that you shall spill a river of blood toda--"

"It is, and I will." An air of finality surrounded those words, of finality, and of desperation as well, and-- oh. Why was a red stain blooming all over the Vessel's abdomen? The relationship between the cause and the consequence got all blurry as thousands stared in quiet bafflement, really, but... damn. That was Iskra's sword, wasn't it? Her sword, wielded by her hand. "Sharp enough for your liking, your highness?" she asked, her voice resonating like thunder in the shocked silence.

And afterwards? Afterwards, everything devolved into chaos.

 

[starboob]

♕ PRINCESS VERITY (EXILED) ♕​

The memory of the talk show glitches and when the world comes back to order again, Verity is walking through the palace with someone by her side. This someone has a striking resemblance to Verity, though she is a few inches taller, several years older, and her features are much darker than Verity's own.

"Is it true? They are not coming?" the young princess asks, her voice hollow and desperation clear in her eyes.

"..." the older woman bites the inside of her lip and looks away awkwardly. "Yeah, they're pretty upset with you, Ver. To be honest, I am too. I mean, I guess not upset. We're all just..." she mulls over her word choice, "disappointed, I suppose. You've changed a lot––don't get me wrong, we're all happy for you, of course we are. It's a great honor to be chosen, but supporting the colonies? Ver, you know what's going on out there."

The young princess nods along to what the woman says, her face falling though she doesn't exactly seem surprised by the information. "I know, I know. Mama comments on how much I have changed every Time I visit, Priscilla. Though I do not know how to explain to any of you that... that there is not much choice here. Had I not supported," she stops abruptly for a moment to look around, perhaps paranoid the queen's eyes and ears are lurking about. When she continues, her voice is much lower, "Had I not supported, those schools never would have opened. Admittedly, not the worst thing in the world, but it also would have damaged my relationship with the few people who do support me in the court. If I just play along a bit, I can push through stuff that I am sure will change Aurora for the better."

"Do you even hear yourself, Verity?" her older sister asks, stopping in her tracks with an expression of disbelief, "You're talking about actual lives as collateral damage towards betterment. Tell me, princess, when has stripping people of their basic needs for the sole purpose of crushing them into submission been for the greater good? The one that exists outside of Aurora, hm? I would be embarrassed to sit on the wrong side of history."

"..."

"Don't give me that look, like I've just said something hurtful. It's the truth, sister. Anyway..." she looks down at her watch, "The girls are moved in, so I better be on my way anyway. Deidre is waiting for me. Look, it was good to see you, sister, but remember this: if you are going to stain your hands like this, at least make sure it is for a good fucking cause."

...​

Once more, Iskra finds herself back in the elaborate garden. This Time, however, Verity is running from no one. Instead, she is sitting alone on a bench, her guard standing some distance away from her, while she sniffles. Her eyes look swollen and her cheeks are still moist from her tears.

"Verity?" Seraphina asks, amusement or concern coloring her tone. She tilts her head to the side as she approaches the other princess from across the garden. "Was your family visit that bad?"

"Oh, I did not hear you coming," the princess mumbles, quickly wiping her cheeks and sniffling several Times. Her cheeks color when Seraphina sits beside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. "I, ah... It was not so bad, just my older sister and I got into a tiff––you know how it is, usual sibling stuff."

"I see. I cannot say that I understand––my family and I get along swimmingly," she shrugs, seeming to think that is a comforting statement. "Anyway, this place is such a drag, let me take you to that bakery I know you like. We can ditch the entourage if we wear disguises," she grins, a spark of mischief in her eye that naturally speaks to Verity.

The rest of the day happens in a blur. The princesses both don chameleon skin disguises and climb out from their bedroom windows in order to escape their guards. They sneak through the palace, keeping their heads bowed just in case, and once they are beyond the gate they break into a fit of giggles. Once free of the palace and all its responsibilities, they skip through the streets, they laugh, Verity stuffs her face with a cupcake while Seraphina watches (apparently she has no taste for sweets). They stop at different stores and buy different things. The day seems to have no short supply of laughter and, by the end of it, Verity seems to have forgotten about her earlier upset. Her cheeks seem permanently pink, her eyes never leave Seraphina, and it is clear she is drunk on this moment. At a certain point, they end up on a grassy knoll where they continue to talk, not even noticing that the sun has set already or realizing how late it is getting.

"You are just going to have to accept that they will never understand you, Verity. You aren't like them anymore," Seraphina says, resting on her side with her head propped up by her elbow. "I mean, a similar thing happened when I started to gain recognition in the arenas. Being a public figure is a role they'll never have, so of course they don't understand the choices we are forced to make." She grabs a fistful of grass and rips it from the ground, sprinkling the blades over Verity's face, which causes her to giggle.

"I suppose you are right––"

"I am."

"Of course," Verity grins, "I just did not think I would lose my family when I took this position. To be honest, I thought it would bring us together somehow. That we could all live in the palace and see each other often, unburdened by all the things that used to weigh on our shoulders. But, honestly? I have never felt more distant."

"That is just what happens, like I said."

"How did you handle it?"

"Easy," Seraphina suddenly shoots up from the ground and pulls her knees into her chest, "I just... forgot about them. Like they forgot about me. I mean, it was clear they were only interested in my money once they did come back into my Life. So it wasn't that hard to shove them to the side. Selfish prats."

"I thought you said you got along with your family?"

"Well, I lied, Verity. I didn't want you to think I was as pathetic as you. Granted, it doesn't actually bother me that we don't speak anymore. It's better this way. More honest," she huffs, turning away from the other princess. Verity merely stares at her, quiet, and unsure of how to reach her friend. Then, Seraphina speaks once more and her voice shakes, not with sorrow––never sorrow––but with something far more terrifying. "I know you secretly hate the arenas. I have heard how you speak on them, always with this quiver in your voice as if you are afraid of shaking the table with your actual opinion. But that place raised me more than my own mother. She sent me there to die, you know? If I lived, great, but, really, she just needed the money and she was never going to come back for me. I never even let myself think that she would. And you know what that has done to me? It has made me angry. Now, I have so much of it and I feel consumed by this thing. Like there is tar in my lungs and an ironfist around my heart, squeezing me until I burst. But the very thing I am so angry about? Is the one thing that brings me peace. Fighting is where I feel most at peace. I am happiest there. I know how fucked up that sounds and in truth, I don’t want to be this way, but I don’t know anything else either. Maybe it’s not what I want, but at least I am damn good at it."

"Sera, I––"

"Hey, listen, Verity, you and me?" she says, her tone shifting from agitation to earnest. And the way she couples them together? Verity's heart immediately starts thumping. "No one here, the Council, I mean, wants us on that throne. You do realize this, no? We are two outsiders to them and that just means we have to win," she scoots closer to Verity, her excitement growing, "Or one of us does. Imagine the looks on their faces––they'll realize they never should have treated us as pawns when were always queens. If... no, when one of us wins, we'll have to stick together because you have to know that they'll just turn us into puppets. Let's face it, Halen already is a puppet and that's why they want her."

"Wait, you want to take this on with me? If I am to understand correctly, you want to arrange a pact with me?"

"Of course, who else could I trust?" ('Or use,' someone whispers to Iskra.)

At that the princess's cheeks flush and she flops onto her back to help hide her face. "I shall stand with you if you win. Provided," because if she has learned anything from living in the palace, one must always ask for more out of a deal, "I am given a position in your court."

 

[Syntra]

The palace remained, yet somehow, its essence didn't. The stifling silence from before, hanging over one's head like a dark cloud? It was gone, replaced by ceaseless chatter. Ceaseless chatter and, yes, laughter, too-- it must have been for the first time in centuries that those cold walls witnessed such a phenomenon, really. Another change, and quite striking one at that, was that there were no guards. (The Holy Vessel's dogs, they'd called them. That, or the Companions of Death. And, really, weren't those synonyms? Death had walked in her footsteps, it had, oh, it had, and where she'd stepped, no grass grew. Still, still Iskra could sense her ghost, in every shadow in the throne room! ...a part of her believed that she would reveal herself, sooner or later. 'Pffft,' she'd laugh. 'Did you truly think you'd seen the last of me, Iskra? How very, hmm, naive of you. The mindset of a mortal worm. Do you believe that eternity can bleed? That you can kill something older than universe itself? Foolish, foolish girl.' The silks woud end up wrapped around her throat again, she knew, and-- 'I cannot believe I've ever wanted to touch you. Best not to dirty my hands with one as stained by sin as yourself, hmm? Go to hell!'

"Iskra. Queen Iskra. Are you perhaps sick?"

Iskra, paler than death itself, flinched. "Ah, no. No, of course not. Why would you think so?"

"Because," other woman said, with a hint of annoyance coloring her tone, "countess Shyenarr asked you a question. Three times. Should she perhaps send you a letter with her official seal instead? Granted, that's not a bad way of dealing with matters, but next time, perhaps don't tell her to come in person if that's how you wish to operate."

Immediately, Iskra's cheeks reddened. "A-ah! My deepest apologies, countess Shyenarr. Regrettably, I got lost in my own thoughts. What was it that you were saying?" The gown she was wearing, Verity could see, was ill-fitted-- meant for a woman with shoulders narrower than her, and a waist much more defined. More than regal, it made her seem... well, as if someone had forced into a costume, if truth be told. Besides, didn't it have to be terribly uncomfortable?

Countess Shyenarr was an older woman, with silver in her hair and wrinkles around her eyes, and right now? Right now, those eyes were observing Iskra with barely disguised contempt. "Certainly, my queen." (How come that, from her lips, it sounded like an insult? Like a word too gross for her to enjoy on her tongue? She may as well have slapped Iskra in the face, truly, and it would have stung less.) "I suppose that I cannot fault you for that. In filling the palace with... hmm, how to call them? Vermin, I believe, would be too unkind, but also not wrong. Not necessarily. Do you value empty pleasantries over clarity, my queen?"

"No, of course not," Iskra said, despite seeing the trap from a mile away. How was one supposed to react in such a situation, even?

"Then vermin it is. With the vermin crawling beneath our feet constantly, it makes sense that you'd lose your ability to concentrate."

"They're.. they're not vermin," she protested, feebly. "They have nowhere to go." (Ah, so that was why the hallways were full of children-- children mostly dressed in tatters, as if they'd just escaped an armed conflict. Perhaps they had? Iskra had spoken about the political scene in her homelands being... tumultuous, mildly speaking.)

"How very sad, but those aren't mutually exclusive things, now are they? Often, they come hand in hand. That's besides the point, though. I've come to speak to you because my rights are being violated, my queen. Is it not up to you to see that justice is served?"

"Violated? Violated, how?" Iskra raised her eyebrow.

"One of the first Holy Vessels, blessed be her name, granted my bloodline certain privileges. Now, they are being trampled!"

"Well," Iskra looked the woman straight in the eye, "will you share what these privileges are? The kingdom is undergoing changes, as you can see, and so I cannot promise to you that they will be preserved. Perhaps it is a good thing that they are being left in the past."

"I assure you, it is not. A good thing! Pah. If not my family, then who shall collect Roots?" ...roots. That word, no matter how innocent, must have meant something to Iskra-- something beyond its regular meaning, that was, because her eyes grew cold.

"No. I forbid it. No longer shall you be allowed to harvest those children. Leave them with their mothers, where they rightfully belong."

Shyenarr's expression, then, could only be described as 'disappointed but not surprised'. "Oh? Do you fancy yourself to be a messiah, my queen? Sweet the prospect is, truly-- trust me, it brings me no joy to see them perish. It is with a heavy sense of duty that I raise my knife, and I never do so when I don't have to. Nevertheless, the Shade demands sacrifices. You yourself should be aware of it, shouldn't you?"

Iskra's heart skipped a beat. "I... that much is true, but..." but she could sense it, the weight of everyone's stares on the back of her head. Would she allow this to continue? The tradition demanded it to be so-- it had always been their way, the only illuminated path in the hungry, hungry darkness. (They'd be swallowed by it, she knew. As inevitable as sunrise it was, oh yes, oh yes, and truly, what would all those saved lives be for, in the end? Would it not be cruel rather than kind, to take away both their purpose and their lives? Along with the lives of everyone else, too! ...everybody had their role to play, it seemed. It wasn't fair, but what was? The Shade still ruled with an iron fist, even if it was technically her who sat on the throne.)

"Fine," she relented, "have it your way. I am going to see another petitioner now. Who else wishes to see me?"

 

[starboob]

♕ PRINCESS VERITY (EXILED) ♕
​

In this scene, princess Halen appears to be sitting on top of cushion like chair with large headphones covering her ears. Her eyes are closed and her hands are clasped on her stomach. The room she is in is a library, though instead of rows and rows of shelves filled with books, it actually looks more like a server room. (Wait. Aren't these supposed to be Verity's memories? So where is that princess?)

As peaceful as Halen looks now, that all gets interrupted when Verity bursts into the library, the double doors swinging open and slamming against the walls with the amount of force used. She looks completely vexed with how her brow angles downwards, her curled fists, and clenched jaw. (In this memory, she also appears a few years older than when Iskra had last seen the princess sharing that sweet moment with Seraphina.) The princess marches towards the other with fire in her steps before she ultimately slumps down into the cushion seat next to Halen. Halen, however, far too immersed in whatever she is listening to, does not hear this grand entrance nor does she sense a disturbance. Not until Verity nudges her shin with her foot. Halen jumps a bit, startled, but does not appear annoyed. Actually, she seems rather curious, perhaps even concerned, as she sits up and removes the headphones.

"I just cannot stand her," Verity starts once she knows she has her friend's attention, "She thinks she can get away with all these little things and that no one will notice. Well, I notice! I am just so done with all of this. Remind me, when can I go back to be an ordinary commoner?"

"Never," she laughs, airily, leaving the impression that this is something they joke about often. "What even is it this Time? Is Queen Adela changing the curriculum again?"

"Calling it a 'curriculum' is rather generous as it is more like a regime to prep these children, Halen, children to be loyal dogs to Aurora. It practically discourages free thought or creativity."

"Look," the blonde princess starts, reaching over to take Verity's hands in her own, "that will all change, you know? Once I become queen. See, I would trust Verity, of all people, to come up with a proper curriculum for our future. I know you have listened to more of these files," she gestures to the rows and rows of servers, "than I have and probably know much more about our history than maybe even the sage sisters themselves. Adela has already announced the dates for the trials, so we know we do not have that much longer to endure her."

"Yes, but the council––"

"They do not matter. Please tell me you have not forgotten what I told you the other night."

"Well, no––"

"Then you need not worry, my sweet friend. Our Time will come and we will see change unfold in our Life. The wretched Council will be no more and their meddling shall no longer affect people's lives. You have said yourself that the people are ready for such change; and while I still contest you would make a much better queen than myself, just know you shall have my ear and I would be most honored to have you as my hand. We just have to wait and be patient."

"Wait and be patient?" Seraphina's voice breaks through the seemingly private moment between the other two, who seem shocked to see her in the library. The entering princess falls into the seat next to Verity, practically sitting in her lap, and Verity scoots over to the side to make room. While she does not seem bothered by the close proximity, something does appear to be different between the two, especially in consideration of the last memory. Namely, Verity does not seem nearly as flustered or interested in her affections. "Whatever for? Tell me you are not keeping secrets from me."

"Oh, we were simply just wondering when you would finally be scheduled for a forehead reduction," Verity jokes, poking the strawberry girl's side, "Too many wins in the arena and they say your head will become your biggest target. With the trials announced, you ought to make an appointment soon."

...
​

As the world changes around Iskra for the upteenth Time, the first thing that becomes apparent is the sound of someone breathing. Heavily. As if each breath is a struggle or that there is a scarcity of oxygen. As the scenery starts to become clear around the pirate, it is obvious that she is in an arena of sorts. There is a cheering audience that is so overwhelming thunderous, it is obvious the arena has been constructed to create an echo chamber that disorients the combatants. The boundary of the arena itself is shaped like a hexagon and between the edge of the hexagon and the stands, there is a wide gap that promises anyone who falls outside of the hexagon will fall into shark infested waters.

The field itself is also rather plain, covered in sand and rocks mostly. However, when Iskra looks up? She will see an array of boulders, like asteroids, floating up above the hexagon. She will also spot the silhouette of the winged princess, appearing to glow with how the sun shines behind her. "Give it up, Verity, do you see that you have lost? Or do I need to make it more clear?" she shouts.

And Verity? Verity groans, her entire body protesting as she grits her teeth and forces herself onto her side, pushing herself up from the ground. (Oh, the princess has seen better days that is for sure. She's barely recognizable with half her face swollen, blood dripping from the corners of her mouth, and the numerous other injuries that are likely strewn under her armor.) "For as long as I can stand, I shall fight," she mutters, maybe intending it as a retort or perhaps a private pep talk to herself.

"Verity," a different princess, Halen, calls into her ear through a communicator, "there is no shame in yielding. Look, it is not how we thought this would go, but you cannot win this. You cannot let her kill you, you are still valuable––"

At that moment Verity rips the communicator from her ear and tosses it to the side. Stubbornly, she raises Gwenwyn, indicating that she is not going to back down. Does she have a Death wish? Does she believe she can win? Does she think that Seraphina won't kill her? Whatever is going through her mind in this moment is unclear.

"Fine," Seraphina mouths, rushing towards several of the floating boulders and tapping them with one of her gloved hands and where she touches, the rocks glow. Once finished, she raises both her arms into the air and the boulders respond, rising with the motion until they are high above the winged princess's head. She snaps her fingers and the boulders erupt into flames. Then, in a forceful action, she casts her arms down, sending the flaming rocks towards towards Verity, who still defiantly stands as if she has a chance of reaching Seraphina from the ground.

As the boulders start coming towards her, she doesn't move; however, not because she is frozen in Fear. She merely taps on the shield emblem on her armor that sits above her heart. Instantly, a forcefield shaped like a boar jumps out from the emblem and stands to defend the princess. It scrapes a hoof against the air before charging towards the boulders and knocking them to the side––some even tumbling over the edge of the arena. The shield then fades back into Verity's emblem and from above, the other princess can be heard laughing in amusement as she descends down into the arena.

When she lands, just feet away from Verity, she smirks like she already knows how this will end. And she likely does when one considers she hardly looks like she has a scratch on her and Verity looks like she has barely survived being run over by a semi-truck. In fact, the princess looks like her legs are failing her––like everything is failing her, and still she forces her feet forward and swings her blade towards Seraphina, who merely steps to the side and lets gravity take Verity down.

Seraphina grabs Verity's collar and lifts her up halfway, sneering at her, "Do you give up, prin––"

Suddenly, Seraphina is shrieking in Pain and when she looks down? Oh, she will see that Verity has sunk her sword through her left leg, her green eyes burning with defiance, for some reason still fighting when defeat is only seconds away at this point. (Is it commendable or pathetic?) The other princess snaps her head up to look at Verity, eyes filled both with disbelief and admiration. "Once again, Verity, you have managed to surprise me, but that will not be enough to win," and with that, she pulls Verity close to her and she...

And she bites into Verity's neck. Tears spring in her eyes as she lets out a cry, weakly trying to push the other princess of her, weakly trying to grab her sword from Seraphina's leg, all to no avail. Seraphina continues to clamp down on her neck and it finally does occur to Verity that she is going to kill her if she does not yield. (It should not be a surprising revelation, but perhaps Verity thought the other would falter. Foolishly, of course.) It is clear she will tear her throat open as she has seen her do to her opponents before.

She grabs onto Seraphina's shoulders and grunts out, "I-I yield––"

 

[Syntra]

The palace glitched out of reality, in a wild burst of colors. Red and white swirled before Verity's eyes, along with green and yellow and purple, and when they finally stabilized? The princess found herself standing under those grey skies, her legs half-buried in ash. What on earth...? And where was Iskra? Ah! Ah, there she walked, surrounded by what had to be advisers. (The unfitting clothes from before were gone, replaced by a simple white tunic and trousers. A sword was swaying at her hip, too, announcing each step of hers with a quiet 'clank'. A soldier was marching there, not a queen, and yet, yet Iskra looked infinitely more comfortable-- a wolf hunting in a familiar forest, as opposed to a chained dog.)

"So it is getting worse, you mean to say?"

"Well, no, I cannot claim that with any degree of certainty," a short woman with glasses sighed. (She, too, was wearing practical clothing, but nothing about her posture hinted at the presence of a weapon. Could she be a noble, then? A noble, or perhaps a scientist? Perhaps both, and perhaps none of those.) "It is not getting better, that's for sure. Moreover, the recent discoveries suggest that there indeed may be a tendency towards malignant growth, but..."

At that moment, Iskra's expression could only be described as unimpressed. "What you mean to say, then, is that it is getting worse. Why sugarcoat it, Meraiah?"

"I am not sugarcoating anything, my queen. I mean, do you know what 'may be' means? Presumably, you are aware of the differences, but to give you a quick rundown-- it doesn't mean 'is'. Before we run all the tests, I cannot say."

If the woman's verbal acrobatics offended Iskra, she hid it with all the finesse of a professional poker player. "Very well, then. I understand. When will you be able to do that? With increased funding in mind."

A shadow flew over Meraiah's face then, and she didn't even attempt to hide it. "A year, or perhaps two. The half-life of the particles of ashes is exceedingly long, my queen, and that won't change if you throw money at it."

"What you mean to say, then, is that I'm supposed to wait while my homeland dies."

"Don't put words in my mouth! I've never said that. I just..." Meraiah looked away, unable to withstand the searing intensity of her gaze, "...I am merely unable to give you an accurate picture of what is happening, my queen. In no way am I saying that you shouldn't act-- that, of course, would be foolishness. All I want is to stress that there is no clear-cut answer, and no real data to base our understanding on. Before, you see, this has never been a problem. Well, it has, presumably, before Lellenei's vow, but..."

Iskra touched her chest, roughly at the spot where her heart was beating. (Was that a hint of regret in her eyes? Regret mixed with guilt, in a ratio that was utterly deadly?) "Lellenei. Yes. I... I should have foreseen that. In my rush to get rid of the old structures, I failed to see how they might have been necessary."

"True, perhaps, but dancing to the Vessel's tune would have been just another kind of death," Meraiah said. "A less dignified one, too. I don't know about you, queen, but I'd rather be killed by--"

"You won't be killed. Nobody will. Ah, look! Is that it?" While they were talking, you see, the women walked, and their feet brought them to... well, the mouth of a cave, it seemed. (Jaws would be a better descriptor here, probably. The entrance was rough and jagged, with swords buried in the cold, rough stone-- in most cases, only their hilts were visible, in a manner eerily reminiscent of tombstones. Oh, gods. What had transpired here?)

"The Queen's Rock," Meraiah whispered, her voice dripping with dread. "Yes, there is no mistaking it. But, queen, have you thought this through?"

"Queen. That's what you just called me, haven't you? With the title I have accepted, Meraiah, I have also accepted certain responsibilities. It is not a question of thinking it through-- it is... it is like breathing, I suppose. You don't really get to to choose do that, either! Either you follow the instinct, or you die. That's what lies at the crux of our problem, my friend. Lellenei or not, the link cannot be severed. I, at least, won't do it."

"...I see. Well, the decision is yours, queen. The decision, as well as the responsibility."

Seemingly out of nowhere, Iskra produced a torch, and then down they went-- down, down and down, deep into the darkness. (It welcomed them like old friends, it seemed. The flame of their torch? Oh, it turned out to be yet another accomplice, painting terrifying visions on the wall! ...there was the silhouette of a woman, arching in pain. Blood was gushing from her abdomen, in these thick, thick streams, and all she could do was to open her mouth in a silent plea. The picture of desperation, truly. And then, before she fell to the floor? Another silhouette separated itself from her body, and before Iskra's eyes could focus properly, the two were suddenly dancing. 'Come, child. Come join us!' they cried out, halfway between singing and screaming. Then, then the women morphed into... ah, who even cared! Iskra had no time for their nonsense, anyway.)

Ignoring the shadows pointedly, the ex-soldier continued to walk forward. If the legends were right, then it had to be somewhere around here, hidden from the prying... ah! Ah, there it was.

Out of nowhere, an obsidian altar emerged-- an altar that had been pierced thousand times, judging by the marks on its surface. (Was it that simple, then? Did she just have to prove her strength? Peculiar, for she couldn't quite imagine the Holy Vessel engaging in something like that, but perhaps there had been some hidden depths to her. Hmm, hmm.)

Iskra brandished her sword, ready to do her duty, except that then fog swallowed the cave, white and cold like death itself. Across the time and space, it touched Verity, too, only to fill her lungs with sharp ash, and-- and--

 

[starboob]

♕ PRINCESS VERITY (EXILED) ♕​

The first thing that Iskra will notice is the smell of smoke.

When Verity's bleary eyes open, a thick dark cloud hangs above her head and the ash is already choking her lungs, forcing her to cough as she scrambles to get out of her bed––still not sure what is happening, but the danger speaks for itself. Still tired, though adrenaline having woken her up, she stumbles through her room just as one of her guards comes in to escort the princess to safety.

"Princess! We are under attack, we must get you out of here!"

Those words appear to confuse the princess, as she grabs her sword and coat from their place by the door as she rushes into the hallway of her residence to figure out what is happening and just who is attacking them. She had thought they were making progress with the local militant groups and coming to some sort of consensus on how to proceed––so she doesn't think it is them, but with her enemies so small, she is not sure what this is about.

As she runs through the halls, following the path her guards are guiding her through, she hears the sound of screaming from outside of her estate. Just as they make it to the entrance, the doors bursts open, and while Verity cannot see much she can see that skies are glowing in orange, her citizens are screaming in agony, and the sound of stomping boots trudging through the streets adds to the thunder from above––glass rain pouring down over the earth. However, for as much as she can see, that is not even the half of it, because when her doors are brought down, imperial guards march into her home and quickly, she is surrounded by her guards who protect her, while the imperial ones surround them.

"Princess Verity, you are wanted for your crimes against our queen."

...​

Verity stands outside of what must have been a home at some point, but all that remains are smoke and ash. She takes a step towards the property, walking through what used to be a kitchen. What used to be a living room. She stands in what used to be a backyard, where the sea meets the river. A burned photograph floats in the water, showing the princess's family but she does not reach for it. Instead, she kicks it further into the marsh. A hand falls onto her shoulder and when she turns around, it is Halen who stands beside her.

"We must go, now. She is moving towards us as we speak."

...
​

"Priscilla, we need to get them out of there. We are their last hope and I would not ask you to risk this if not for them. I know this is not your war to fight and I mean not to dra––"

"Sister, sister," Priscilla coos, gently taking Verity's shoulders and pulling her into an embrace, "I know it has been eternities since we have spoke, but do not think I would ever abandon my family. We are all we have, you see? Besides, this is my war, too, as its Victory will determine the future of, well, everything. Tell me, sister, because I am dying to know, did you really try to kill her?"

Verity nods, still stunned by her sister's acceptance after facing her rejection the last Time they seen each other. "I did," she confirms, "but––"

"Oh, that's my Verity! I am so proud of you, Ver. I mean, I would not ever think to commend such an action, but this seems an appropriate Time to break from tradition."

"Right," Halen's voice cuts through the reunion, the memory expanding to reveal that all three women appear to be in bunker of sorts with a strategy team behind them, "Though I hate to cut the reunion short, it is imperative we run through the plan. We're essentially risking everything for this operation, but the outcomes so far appear favorable and success will likely encourage more disruptions across the country."

...
​

"Verity, we need to leave––it's not your fault. You didn't know and you could not have known that her spies were among our ranks," Halen says, her voice coming in through the princess's earpiece. Though her expression is blank, hollow, and whatever the other princess says goes through her ears and never reaches her. Instead, she stands still. Stunned. Staring at the empty throne as if she can change the outcome of events. "If we do not flee now, all will be lost. Listen, I am coming to get you. You are not alone, princess."

"Oh, Verity, I knew I would find you here," Seraphina's voice echoes through the throne room, her boots thumping on the marble floors and coming closer to Verity. "Are you here to join them? You know, falling on your sword would be much quicker and more advisable. I can promise you, for your treachery, I will not hold back. Actually, I might enjoy keeping you alive for a while as I have always enjoyed your screams."

Verity's head fills with a fog in that moment, causing her to forget all sense of rationale when she turns around to face the queen, brandishing her sword. "I shall enjoy yours, you crazed wench!" Which almost seems to be what the queen wanted to hear, as her smirk widens and she shrugs off her cape and pulls the scimitar from her hip. Between the two women, Verity's strikes all come off as wild and unplanned, even desperate, as she attempts to outright overpower the queen; and the queen, on the other hand, appears unphased and amused, blocking each strike and even baiting Verity with obvious openings. In fact, the very nature of this duel seems to be a game of cat and mouse. (If there is one thing the princess should have remembered, it is that the queen loves to play with her food and watch as they become more desperate.)

The swords clash and clang, statues of prior queens are knocked over, Verity even shoots her spikes from her skin as it becomes clear that engaging in this duel was a grave mistake. (Though it probably would have been inevitable anyway.) Seraphina crouches behind a decorative shield as the spikes fly towards her, before she brandishes her own. "You really do wish to die, don't you? Well, I am happy to oblige, as a kind and considerate queen," she laughs, kicking Verity's sword from her hand and then shoving her to the ground. She reaches for Verity's collar and hoists her up, before punching her in the face and then slamming the hilt of the blade over her head. "Though I don't see why I should treat traitors with such kindness," she punctuates the comment by spitting in her face, shoving her onto her knees.

"You know, princess Verity, I really thought you might be the one in this pretty crown and wielding this jank scimitar, but I could see in your eyes that you didn't want it enough. Isn't that why you yielded to me in the first place?" she tilts her head to the side, her cruel smirk widening, "Ha! Just imagine! You on the throne and me bowing at your feet––what a silly thought, right? I mean, the role is so fitting, I truly must have been born for it from the very, very start. And you're just so good on your knees."

The memory then turns half-red as a flash of steel strikes across her left eye.

 

[Syntra]

Opening her eyes was difficult, weirdly enough-- it felt as if some villain had transformed her eyelids into lead, and she had to push, push, push, endlessly, just to get them to budge. Was that what it was like, having to carry the weight of the world on her shoulders? Iskra had thought she had known, once, but after witnessing Verity's plight... oh, she wasn't so sure. Not anymore, at least. (The pirate had tasted it, don't get her wrong. Still, there was a difference between a brief sip and having to gulp down the whole bottle, wasn't there? Both of them had drunk poison, yes, but it was Verity who had been weaned on it-- who had been told that drowning in her own blood was a privilege, and that she should have been thankful. Oh, how well Iskra understood that mechanism! ...more than she would have liked to, really. It hadn't happened to her with queenship, of course not, though did that even matter? Parallels didn't have to be perfect in order for the similarities to strike deep, and after what she'd witnessed... well, let's just say that the pirate's heart hurt for the princess. Hurt, hurt, hurt, so much that it might as well have been torn to shreds! How could it not? A lifetime of pain had been squeezed between the memories, Iskra was convinced of that, because to an observant reader, all those implications painted an, ah, interesting picture. Interesting, as in tragic. Just, how lonely had she had to be? Such a cruel, cruel system it had been, designed to create victims! Even among her peers, there had been no respite-- no space to breathe freely, no time to let her hair down. Always, always, always, she'd been surrounded by enemies! Enemies who had worn the masks of friends, as shamelessly as chameleons changed their coloring based on their surroundings.)

Almost shyly, Iskra looked up. (How long had they been standing in the water? She was drenched, drenched to the bone, and her lips had gained an unhealthy shade of blue-- all of that was reflected on the surface, and for a second, the pirate couldn't even recognize herself. The woman who stared back at her? More than anything else, she resembled a ghost! In the legends, ghosts didn't tend to shake, though, and that was what clued her in. Oh well. It wasn't like that mattered much, did it? In fact, Iskra quite liked her current state-- there was a certain vulnerability to it, which kind of matched the spirit of this entire interaction. Yes, vulnerability! ...ages ago, this alone would have scared her. It had scared her, in fact, mere months ago, when the prospect had driven her to obscure instead of revealing, and to paint herself in shadows darker than the space between the stars. Thanks to that, Verity hadn't been able to perceive her, you know? Instead of her true self, she'd only seen a caricature, and yes, it had been ugly, but it had also been a shape that she had chosen. A story written from her perspective, really. In a twisted way, Iskra had been yearning for control, hadn't she? Which alone should have clued her in on the fact that it had been weakness, disguised as strength. No, there hadn't been anything brave about hiding her wounds! In order for them to heal, they had to be treated, treated and allowed to draw energy from the sun, and she... she had let them rot in the darkness.)

Unlike the last time, the guardian said nothing. Instead of interfering, she watched them with her big, wise eyes-- there was an unspoken question in them, Iskra could tell, though she knew not what it might have been. And, frankly? The pirate didn't care, either. The whole planet might have burnt to a crisp in that moment, truly, and she barely would have noticed! Verity, you see, deserved all of her attention.

"My guiding star," Iskra whispered, entirely fearless. (Yes, the princess had just witnessed her most private of moments, but why should that bother her? She'd spent a night in her arms, and tasted a peace the likes of which she'd never known before. There had been true understanding as well, deeper than any ocean. Iskra suspected that that was what had brought her the solace, so shying away from getting more of it... well, that struck her as nonsensical. Foolish, even. But, hmm. Was this trial about that, actually? About understanding, and accepting the good parts along with the bad ones? You couldn't separate those, just like you couldn't take a skeleton out of its body without killing the person in question! ...yes, yes, great wisdom could be found in that line of thought, to be sure. Great enough to be worthy of the wayfinder, perhaps.)

"Thank you, Verity," she said, and brought her hand to her lips. "Thank you, for blessing me with so much trust. I have not always been fair to you, and yet, yet you didn't hesitate to show me everything. I... I have to admit, I didn't expect to see..." she shrugged, searching for the right words, "all of that. Perhaps I, too, was wearing rose-tinted glasses-- the title of a princess sounds too romantic, after all. For me, it obscured the truth. Now I see it, though. I see it, and I see you, and maybe... maybe we're more alike than I thought."

 

[starboob]

♕ PRINCESS VERITY (EXILED) ♕​

Coming back to the surface of reality feels like coming out of riptide that has pulled you under and, unwisely, you chose to fight with the current rather than trust it to spit you right out. So when the princess emerges from realm of Iskra's memories, drenched in the fountain water, drenched in her own sweat (probably), she comes back choking and coughing. She even thrashes against air, splashing around in the water as a result, before she feels the water sage place a reassuring hand on her shoulder that appears to calm Verity almost immediately. Her heart still thumps and her lungs still feel starved, but at least she realizes she is no longer in that land that had made her Iskra. (The princess also now realizes where the first stint of this trial had been. There had been hints before, bread crumbs for her to follow, but back then Verity had been far too stubborn to see them or even acknowledge them. Instead she kicked them to the side and pretended that the mess was not there. Now she has the whole picture. Or a big enough piece to realize... to realize who her pirate is, the world that made her, and how she pulled herself out of it. Maybe there had been an Estrelle to inspire her to action, to cause her to realize there is more to Life than servitude, but still it had been Iskra and Iskra alone. Why had her pirate chosen to hide the hero in her story for a villain that only exists if you are watching shadows? Of course, she does understand why that may have been safer, then, when such vulnerability would have been threatening after all that had happened to incinerate the meager bridge they had been building. Though even that, she knows had all be necessary. It had all been part of their story, to have that moment where smoke shrouded them and left them with the impressions of ghosts. They had to acknowledge they were scared before they could ever find serenity in one another. Oh, how she wishes she could wrap her arms around Iskra and never, ever let her go. To even pull her away from the certain Death lingering over her shoulders. To shield her from it, truly. 'The galaxy needs more heroes like her. Heroes who always, always try.')

Honestly, while her impression of the pirate has not changed, per se, she does feels as though she has a more complete picture. Like her green eyes do not have to search so hard to see the woman in front her. That she truly and finally does know who she is. Granted, Verity had suspected that this woman existed all along––in the beginning it may have been misinformed in that she only saw goodness, tinted in rosy hues; and, yes, there had been that brief moment where she thought there was a monster; and more recently she has seen a good woman who had been born to serve corruption and did, until she didn't. Now these memories serve as more evidence to the latter. Not that she ever thought the pirate was trying to fool her. (Never, not even once, did she think Iskra was trying to warp the image of the cruel Iskra. No, always she has acknowledged her while also offering a different perspective. So that Verity may hold the two together, in tandem, to sharpen the image of the woman before her.)

When Iskra finally breaks the silence between them, she knows there is nothing for her to Fear in whatever Iskra will say, because, with this new context, she understands that they are of the same star. That the iron in their veins came from the same Death of the great creators. "Oh, Iskra..." she whispers, her eyes now shining with tears––happy and sad all at once, "Oh, my dearest Iskra, how could I have not braved those waters of truth for you? You have made it look so easy that I found my courage. I do not fault you for not seeing what I had covered, you never could have known what my Life as a princess meant when your history told you otherwise. And I promised to hide from you no longer, that everything in me is yours for you to know. I..." she trembles, sudden nervousness overwhelming her and she swallows it. She swallows it because she wants Iskra to know this. (Maybe she has said these words before or even suggested the notion, but with their most recent event bringing them even closer together she must confirm it again.) "I trust you, Iskra. Out of all the rest, the trillions in this galaxy, you are the one I trust with the entirety of my heart."

She brings one of Iskra's hands to her cheek, nuzzling against her knuckles. "And you, my pirate, have never looked sharper in my eyes. There is no monster in front of me, there never was. Wicked things, you may have done, and the heavy chains of that role are ones I know you have broken. I see, now, the woman who was there all along. Perhaps she was forced into hiding, but she came back, Iskra. She came back and she has not left. I... I know of no other woman with a heart half as golden as yours for you try and try and that is worth more than diamonds," shyly, she presses her lips to Iskra's wrist, just under her palm. Her heart is beating so fast and swelling with adoration, that the tears start coming down her cheeks in rivers, again happy and sad.

"Yes, seekers," water guardian whispers, after a few moments, and finally addressing the two rather than just observing, "In all of us, we have our shame, hidden by our pride, and to Accept, means to acknowledge and bare it for we are the sum of all of our mistakes and imperfections. From each, we learn. From each we grow. Learn, seekers, from your pasts. Accept that which cannot change and know that forwards can mean a second chance where you once failed––many Times, in ways unexpected. Blessed seekers, your next trial shall find you and when it does, know that bleeding hearts are needed."