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

[Syntra]

Out of all the things that Iskra had never expected, it was safe to say that she'd never expected having to tame a dragon most. Just, what kind of games was the Shade playing with her? What goddesses had she insulted? She was but an ordinary pirate, focused on gaining riches and ending her enemies and pillaging and... alright, alright, that might not have been an accurate description. Still, how come that once-in-a-lifetime things seemed to happen to her every other week? One would have thought that the universe wouldn't waste all of its miracles on a lowly ex-soldier, though here they were! Here they were, indeed. "Careful, Verity," she uttered, not even acknowledging the general's hateful words. Why should she? Background noise, that was all it was-- a trap designed to lead them astray, in order to break their focus. And, ah, did Iskra know better than that! The insults rolled off of her like water off a raincoat, really. "Coordination is the key here. When I say 'now,' move the chain..."

"What, not even going to talk to me?" the general pouted."How you wound me, my dearest captain! You know, you've always been my favorite criminal-- you're something of a superstar in our circles, really. That you fail to interact with me on a meaningful level is... hmm, most disappointing. What do you think, how can I loosen your tongue? I believe that dissecting your princess might just do the trick, but I'd like to get a second opinion first." Which, how dastardly! Dastardly and utterly transparent, so no, the flames of Iskra's anger were not ignited. Just you wait, the pirate thought, I'll show you in practice what a proper dissection looks like. Swift like the wind, she ran, ran with urgency greater than she had experienced in her entire life, and!!! There it was, her golden opportunity. "Shh," she said, very much aware that the animal did not understand, and drew her blade. "You shall see for yourself that a sword can be kind, too." Its kindness wasn't entirely painless, of course, but how could it be? Ripping off a band-aid shredded the skin that still clung to it, inevitably.

What a gross thing, she thought, watching the tattoo writhe before her eyes. (Wait, writhe? Ah yes, yes! It indeed did move-- like a worm that had been hiding under a stone, and then panicked when something lifted it. It sensed danger, Iskra wagered, and in that, it was right! So, without a second of hesitation? She swung her blade downwards, right at the sensitive flesh.)

The dragon roared, all the agony of the world concentrated in that sound, and guilt tore at Iskra's insides. Then, though? Then the torment turned into something that resembled relief, only for the creature's eyes to shift from angry red to soothing blue.

"What... what have you done?!" the general shrieked, finally genuine. (Ah, wasn't sincerity the greatest of gifts? When peppered with fear, it made for a particularly tasty dessert.) "You stupid, uneducated brutes. Don't you know that you've sentenced us all? The beast has no mind of its own! Without those chains, it will..." No mind of its own, huh? The woman was pitiful, Iskra realized-- her eyes may have technically worked, yes, but she was blind, blind, blind, unable to look past her own nose. How could she believe the nonsense that had just left her lips? Was that mere wishful thinking, or did she really think in such dreadful ways? In order to be a Guardian, Iskra supposed, one had to deny reality, but some aspects of it were... hmm, more absurd than others. More desperate. Because, really, how could the dragon bowing its head to them be anything but gratitude? How could that not be a thinking being's act? Ah, how terrible that must have been, to be a victim of your own preconceptions! To draw your lines not in sand, but in stone, so that they may stay as a testament to your stubbornness. Such a foolish mistake, indeed. Does she not know that to live means to evolve? That stasis is death? All things had to adapt, adapt, adapt, in that crazy race without a finish line! After being too set in her ways had almost destroyed her, Iskra knew that better than anyone else. Observation was the key to any victory, and... hmmm. In fact, now that she watched properly, the dragon's intent might have been even more complicated than she'd thought.

"Verity," the pirate gasped, not taking away her eyes from the beast for a second. (Was it... gesturing? It must have been, for the movements seemed full of purpose and yet harmless. Ah, if only it could speak their language! Everything would have been easier that way-- easier, and much more convenient as well.) "I... I think it may want us to join it. To... to ride it, I suppose. Why else would it be staying here?"

"Well, what are you looking at, you morons?!" the general shouted, most likely at her subordinates. The women in question were scattered, and kind of... well, staring. Honestly, Iskra did not blame them for that. Who would want to stand in a dragon's way, after all? A certain pirate and princess, perhaps, but few shared their resolve. "You are not paid to stand around and watch, dammit! Do I have to remind you that you've said your vows? That you promised yourself to me? Bath the criminals in their own blood, now!"

 

[starboob]

♕ PRINCESS VERITY (EXILED) ♕​

Thankfully, Iskra is quick to cut the tattoo and let the cursed ink escape, allowing the princess to let go of the beast's horns and slide off from her head. With the tattoo no longer staining the dragon's belly, her metallic scales glisten in shades that Verity has never seen before. The princess is so completely mesmerized by the creature, she fails to register anything else happening around them. It's just her, Iskra, and this dragon. She doesn't even hear the general's whining. So when Iskra suggests they are meant to ride this creature, her surprise is evident when she asks, "Do you really think so?" Truthfully, she cannot say that she can interpret the dragon's gesture in any other way, but there is that part of her that does not want to accidentally offend this Beauty. It has already been through so much and Verity would not be able to stand it if she were another stain on its existence. Yet, as troops begin to rush into the hangar, the dragon gestures again and even pushes the two forward with her tail and Verity takes the invitation. Carefully, she grabs onto some of the scales and hoists herself onto the creature's back then checks on Iskra to make sure she is settled. "Iskra," she smiles brightly at her partner, "if you had told me this morning that we were to find a dragon and befriend her as well? I would have asked Myrne do a full examination of your mental faculties––frankly, I am in complete dis––beelieeeeeef!" she screams, as the dragon launches itself into the air and destroys the rest of hangar with her fiery breath. (Raven's Wing is included in this destruction, but Verity cannot find it in her to be too distraught over that particular loss. They have just acquired a dragon as their steed, after all. ...And she really despised that egg.)

If the general is not shaking in her seat or running towards an escape, then she is a fool to think that this trio won't force her to meet her maker. (Though running would not save her either, Verity guesses, as she cannot imagine that herself, Iskra, or their new dragon ally will allow the general to live with the crimes she has committed against them.) The dragon tears into the ship, easily ripping through steel panels and breathing fire at their would be assailants. For the most part, there is little that princess and pirate have to do to defend themselves. In fact, it's laughably easy making their way through the ship on the back of a dragon. If the princess were being honest, it is somewhat entertaining watching those once bold guardians flee before they are burned. She can only hope making the general suffer will be as entertaining.

After minutes of weak attempts to stop their flight up to the command deck, the dragon rips a hole through the wall of the vessel and exits the space craft, flying them directly up to the bridge without the mess of hallways. From outside, Verity can see a field of dead space sharks and the escape pod that's holding her friends hostage. She cannot spot Saavika's ship, but she only assumes the pyrotechnic more or less has her end of the situation under control.

As they land on top of the command deck, Verity grips onto Iskra's arm and shoots her another grin from over her shoulder. "Shall we?" she asks, sliding off of their steed as the dragon tears a hole in the roof and clears a path for her new companions. The dragon gives them both a look to enter and then seems to eye the rest of the guardian fleet as if she plans to destroy the rest of these blasted vessels. At least, that is how Verity interprets the dragon's body language. In response, she nods before hopping into the hole and unsheathing her weapons.

Once insides, as far as Verity can tell, the command center appears empty but she knows better than to only trust what she sees. Cautiously, she surveys the room for any sign of movement. "I thought you wanted to see us, dear general? Do you not know how to welcome your guests?" Verity taunts, as she raises her weapons and pushes out her spikes just so they're poking through her skin. A canister, then, flies out from behind one of the control panels, fizzling, and just narrowly missing Verity's head. It soon fills the room with smoke, making it impossible for her to see past her own nose. Instinctively, she backs herself towards Iskra until they are back to back. "Seems the general's gotten cold feet," she whispers to her companion, her unease growing the longer the general remains quiet and hidden in this fog.

Then, right in front of Verity she notices the fog moving and the silhouette of a person appearing (and behind her, there is another silhouette coming towards Iskra). Verity dashes towards the figure and once she spots that mess of ghastly green hair, she swings out her weapons to lob off the general's head. When her blade makes contact with the general's neck, however, her entire body disappears in a puff of smoke leaving the princess stumbling forward and confused. To her left she can hear the general laugh and yet another figure appears, this one also resembling the general, "Did you really think it'd be that easy? You stupid little princess. I get why your little rebellion failed if this is how you enter every battle."

Anger flares through Verity's veins, part of her knowing the general is trying to mess with her and the other part not caring that she's taking the bait. She slashes towards the figure and, again, it disappears rather than falls to the ground. "I can show you what your homelands looks like now. Would you like that?" the general smirks, not that Verity can see her but she can hear it in her tone. The general's voice now comes from all sides of the princess, causing her to spin around looking for her elusive target. "Would you like to see how well your country is doing without you?" And whether or not Verity wants it? Screens appear all around the room with footage of her burning homelands, of children crying for mothers who will never come, of Seraphina's forces destroying buildings and patrolling the streets––it's the first she seen of her country since she fled and to see that nothing has changed? She feels her heart shatter for her people. Forgetting that she is in the midst of a fight, she walks towards one of the floating screens and stares at the image, fists clenched tightly around her swords. She is not at all focused on the growing number of figures coming up from behind her.

 

[Syntra]

No, Iskra had not thought that she’d ever ride a dragon. In fact, if she had been thoughtful enough to compile a list of things most unlikely to happen, that event might have been at its very top-- well, there, or perhaps right under ’falling in love.’ (Funny, wasn’t it? Considering that both of those had happened, regardless of the odds. Ah, perhaps this was a proof that their lives were nothing but playthings for goddesses to amuse themselves with, indeed! To think that she, out of all people, was this blessed… No, the pirate didn’t think that that was a coincidence. It just couldn’t be. The Holy Vessel’s teachings claimed that goddesses were cruel, yes, but what if it wasn’t so? What if that, too, had been a lie? …there had been so many of them, truly, that it was hard to remember what truth even looked like. For most of her life, Iskra had lived with wool over her eyes, and a duct tape over her mouth-- an imitation of a human being, as authentic as it was pathetic. At this point, could she ever be anything else? Could she evolve, akin to a butterfly crawling out of its chrysalis? Because, you see, the mind was like water! Like water, it assumed the shape of whatever container it found itself in, and… and then it froze, under the right conditions. No, she thought as the dragon waved its giant wings, that is not all I am. If that were true, I never would have sparked the interest of someone like Verity. Hell, her women never would have followed an empty puppet, either! Thinking less of them wasn’t something that they deserved, and… Focus, the pirate reprimanded herself. This is not the time to be having an existential crisis.)

Up and up they went, each movement of the wings bringing them closer to their goal, and Iskra? Iskra had to laugh, really. Ah, how naïve she had been, to think that she had known what claiming the skies felt like before! With Inure, they had sailed far and wide, yes, but they’d always been visitors, admiring the stars from afar. The dragon, on the other hand? The dragon was at home there, in the same way that trees were at home in a forest, or fish in a sea. You are going to pay, the captain thought, a smirk spreading on her lips. You tried to chain a storm, general, and for that, lightning will rip you apart. It seemed that their foe expected such a fate, however, and didn’t really plan to stick around to see it play out. “What a coward,” she scoffed. “Trying to escape the consequences is something I simply cannot forgive. I mean, does she think that she is better than everyone else? Above the laws of physics, even?” The same kind of hubris had led to the Guardians being founded, now that she thought of it, so she supposed the assessment wasn’t too far-fetched. Just, pfft! Could you even imagine, trying to force your narrow definition of justice onto entire galaxies? Iskra definitely couldn’t, but the general’s predecessors had thought otherwise. ‘To protect the order,’ that was their official motto, but in reality? In reality, something like ‘To protect our egos’ would have been far, far more accurate.

“Still, I cannot say that I can’t understand her feelings. It must be hard, knowing that you failed this dramatically and that retribution is coming,” Iskra shrugged. Had this been just about her, then perhaps she would have been able to forgive the misguided woman, but as it was? Oh no, no, no! For her crimes of kidnapping her subordinates, and for the sin of chaining a dragon, the general had to perish, plain and simple. Anything else would have been a disgrace-- merely spitting on her victims, indeed. (Mercy wasn’t necessarily a virtue, you see? In careless hands, it caused as much strife as senseless cruelty, despite the gentle undertones. In sparing a murderer, didn’t you only sentence more innocents to death? Did you not insult all the lives she’d trampled, and families she had destroyed? Yes, yes, and thousand times yes! …you were responsible not only for those whom you condemned, but also for those whom you had saved. A bitter pill to swallow, perhaps, but she had learned how to do that long ago.)

But, of course, it wasn’t to be that simple. “Ah?” Iskra turned around, drawing her sword. “What is it that you’re saying, you vile monster? Come out and fight! For once in your miserable life, you should try and actually earn those accolades attached to your name.”

“And why, pray tell, should I do it?” the general giggled, like an overexcited schoolgirl. “Truly, you think like a lowly pirate, my dear Iskra. When playing chess, would you immediately sacrifice the queen? No? Then stop spreading such nonsense. In fact, why don’t you learn more about the royal duties? Your princess isn’t the pure white lily you think her to be, you know.”

“What I think or don’t think of her is none of your conce--” But then, then the scenery around her shifted, and Iskra found herself standing in the middle of a warzone, where blood flowed instead of rivers. (Corpses were piling up in the streets, too. And, judging by their state? They must have been there for days, for worms feasted on their flesh. The smell was nauseating, and… and…)

“Was it worth it?” a uniformed woman cried out, before lifting a child from the ground. The girl couldn’t have been older than five, and yet, yet she was holding her by the hair, and with her other hand, she reached for her blade. “Tell me right now, Faraya and Misyr!” Two women, presumably the girl’s mother, cowered in the background. “Would you support the usurper again, if given a choice?”

“No. No, of course not!” the taller mother’s voice cracked like a whip.

“Well then,” the officer smiled, much like a wolf would, and in that moment? In that moment, her eyes met those of Verity. “Bring me her head, then. Do it, and perhaps Seraphina will see that your bloodline isn’t as traitorous as she thought.”

 

[starboob]

♕ PRINCESS VERITY (EXILED) ♕​

With everything that comes bubbling up inside of the princess, Seraphina's officer could have been talking to Verity herself when she asks those mothers whether or not supporting her had been worth it. All of her regret and remorse lump together in her throat until she feels like she is choking, but she cannot even remember to breath or swallow as she just watches, powerless, as Faraya and Misyr's sprite is threatened. (The worst part of it? As if it is not enough to live knowing what she has left behind and what sparked the minute the queen discovered her treachery, is that there were so many who believed in her, the princess of the people. She had not known Faraya or Misyr––she had not known all her supporters––but they knew her, in some limited and yet intimate way, and they now suffer for a woman who is just now learning their faces. For a woman who ran rather than accepted Seraphina's spear between her ribs. How can Divinities ever forgive her for what she has brought to the descendants? Sure, sure, she can be told one million and one times how these crimes are not hers, and how can she, the princess of the people, not see it any other way?) As she watches, her fists tighten around her swords, but she remains frozen and can nearly feel the icicles creeping up her legs to keep her in place.

Then, as the officer finishes her threat, her homeworld dissipates into smoke as all the other illusions in this room have before, but unlike the prior instances Verity does not immediately snap back to reality. She blinks a few Times, trying to place herself again, and even when she does she cannot bring herself to the same urgency or confidence that she had prior. How can she when the smell of her world burning is stuck in her nose? 'Faraya and Misyr...' she repeats the names in her head, recalling their scared faces and their frightened daughter, and she cannot help herself but to wonder how their story finished or if it is still ongoing. Though the hero in her wants to save them and wants to do it now, she cannot. She is lightyears away from home and has not a sense of how or when she can return. With all this swimming inside of her head, she cannot bring herself to notice the movements in the smoke.

"You know princess," the general’s voice chimes, breaking Verity from her ice. She whips her head to look for the general, but still her enemy remains invisible. She can only hear her voice and it sounds both faraway and as though she is whispering in her ear. "When Seraphina enlisted the help of the guardians, I could not have cared less about some recluse queen's enemies. Then, out of some benign curiosity, I decided to search your records and realized what a thorn in this galaxy's side you have been. Wherever you go, strings of innocent death follows," she sneers, shoving the princess forward and disappearing before Veritt can strike her.

"Tell me, what was it like murdering my sister, hm?" she asks, not at all sounding distraught over the loss of a family member, "Demetria was quite a little bitch, but she didn’t deserve to die like that, you animas! And I hate to think of how much lady Jezebel suffered at your hands, because she looked like ribbon when we found her. And now you run with one of the galaxy’s top criminals, captain Iskra. Tsk, tsk, I cannot let such wretches run free. Bringing you both down shall be the crowning achievement of my career. I imagine they'll promote me for my valiancy."

"You consider those women innocent?" Verity retorts, though lacking her usual bite. In fact, the words come out strained and hoarse. Even with her weapons raised she does not seem quite as fearsome as she'd hope, with her mind half back home and half in this space ship. She starts to slowly back away, looking for her pirate. "Then you shall have your grave next to them since that must be what you wish," she threatens, even despite her unease.

"Big words from a woman who only knows how to run," the general’s voice echoes, "How much of an idiot do you have to be to think the pirate can save you––don't you know she's a harbinger of doom?" As she speaks, the smoke filling the room shifts again and takes the shape of the eerie pale moon that haunts the skies of Iskra's home planet. "She all but destroyed her world, so what do you think she can do for you?"

For some reason, that remark burrows so deeply underneath Verity's skin that she snaps out of her stupor. No one is allowed to drag her pirate's name through the mud and live with their tongue. (Just who does this woman think she is, throwing their regrets in their faces like this? Who gave her the right? This general has not even half a clue of what either of them have been through and yet she is so full of judgment. That, the princess cannot stand. For that, the princess will make sure she swallows her swords.) "You speak on that which you do not know, general, and perhaps if you stopped with your chicken-hearted games you will come to understand that we are more than our pasts!" she shouts, and in that same moment more doubles start heading towards the princess pirate duo.

“Surrender while you can, captain and princess!” they jeer in unison, all wearing ugly grin. "You will not win this fight."

 

[Syntra]

...what a cruel, cruel game. Did Faraya and Misyr exist, even? Had they existed at any point, or had the general simply dreamt them up to make a point? (Of course, it wasn't like that mattered. Not truly. A rose by any other name would smell just as sweetly, and the same went for rot-- that, too, wouldn't lose its properties, regardless of how you'd call it. So what if Faraya and Misyr were just puppets? Shadows on the wall? Their real life counterparts existed, thousands of them, and Verity... Verity had had a hand in their destruction, whether she liked it or not. Claiming otherwise would be the opposite of solace, now wouldn't it? Because it would be a lie, lie, lie, bitter and plain to see.) "It wasn't your fault," the captain still said, unable to contain herself. "It wasn't. Seraphina's actions were her own, Verity. You did betray her, yes, but not doing that would mean betraying your own heart-- serving a tyrant, really. How do you know that compliance would have been better? That it would have saved lives? It might have been easier, sure, but swallowing poison willingly doesn't make it any less toxic. Her cruelty would have still killed them, in one way or another." The death of the soul wasn't any gentler, you see? Under the Holy Vessel's command, Iskra had lived, but... well, she'd never felt deader, back in that dreadful palace where only solace had been silence. Naturally, however, the general wouldn't even provide that.

Ah, of course, Iskra thought to herself, the parasite convinces herself that she's a saint. Why was this so unsurprising? Well, maybe because all women like her did that-- every single one of those brutes who wielded power as if it was a sledgehammer believed that it was not only their god-given right, but also some kind of virtue. "Killing her felt right," she said, her tone unflinching. "Like justice being delivered, for that was exactly what it was. Did you know your sweet sister's hobbies, general? Did she tell you how she tormented her poor wives, and how she turned collecting more and more of them into a sick game? Yes, she did all of that, and only for her own amusement. Tell me, how come she didn't deserve death in your eyes? Was the blood that coursed through her veins a good enough excuse for her?" Perhaps Iskra understood not, mostly because she had never had a family of her own, but if blood ties served to blind you like that... well, then she was happy to be born without them, an independent unit rather than a part of something so utterly corrupt. Just, how come that they didn't see?!

'A harbinger of doom,' she'd said, and normally, those words would have been a knife in her heart, but now? Now, they barely left a scratch behind. "It wasn't my fault," Iskra retorted, surprised at the audacity. (Where had it sprung from, hmm? Always, always the pirate had nursed her blame, using it to feed her goals, but... well, maybe that was part of the problem. Such a one-sided diet got old fast, you know? So much she hungered for something new, something different, that denial burst from her lips!)

"Ah, there it is," the general smirked. "Are you going to say that you weren't involved? That the stains on your reputation are mere rumors? Tsk, tsk, and here I thought you were more self-aware than that."

"No," Iskra shook her head, "I shall not say that. Unlike you, I am not a liar. My hand committed all of those deeds, but truly, how could I have done anything else? I was a blind fool, but I was raised to be one. The people around me failed me, and so I could only fail others in turn. A failure it was, sure, though not one that stemmed from my own core! I will spend the rest of my life in atonement, but I know now that it is not my ultimate fate-- that the sentence isn't written in my DNA. That I can do better, if I only try hard enough." Verity had helped her see that, among other things, and oh, how could she spit on such a gift? No, Iskra wouldn't do that. Never, never, never, not even if they paid her for it!

"How moving," the general smirked. "Too bad that nobody but me will ever hear it, captain!" The clones were everywhere, more numerous than the stars in the sky, but hope bloomed in her heart, and Iskra refused to stamp it out. Swiftly, she pressed her back against that of her princess. "They're only cheap imitations," she hissed, before deflecting one of the blows. (They were like a storm, raining from all the directions, and yet, yet the pirate managed to keep them safe. It was as if a goddess was leading her hand, truly!) "There... there must be a way to dispatch of them." Myrne would have known, Myrne, with her arcane knowledge, but... ah. Ah, it turned out that she knew, too! Listening to her local mad scientists had paid off for once, apparently. "I bet her real self isn't even here," she told Verity, her breath wild and uneven. "Myrne... Myrne spoke of this technology once. To give her clones a tangible form, she must be powering them up using her own life force! Which means she's probably hooked up to some machine. Now, if only we could find it..."

 

[starboob]

♕ PRINCESS VERITY (EXILED) ♕​

After these many months of separation from Seraphina and the destruction of her home, the sting has not dulled any less. Yes, she can tell Iskra and many others that the things out of their control are not their fault and yet when it comes to herself? She cannot find it in her to forgive herself. Somehow, in her mind, Seraphina's crimes have become her own and she has not a clue how to extend kindness to herself when the wound is so open. (The answer, truthfully, is Time. It has only been a handful or two of months since Halen and their small force of women left Aurora. The overwhelming waves are not as frequent nor nearly as devastating as they had been at the start, and still there are days where she feels that she will never heal or be able to extend forgiveness to herself.) But when Iskra's words reach her? It's like being tossed a life preserver ring when she had been moments away from drowning. Eagerly, gratefully, she latches onto what her pirate says and even if there are parts of her that think she's a liar, there is enough of her that trusts Iskra that she does not succumb so wholly to her despair. Iskra would not say just anything to make her feel better. What she says comes from some place of truth and that is what she holds onto in spite of the guilt that grips her heart. Who better to believe than the only other woman who has walked a similar path as the princess?

That, at the very least, helps Verity keep her swords high as the onslaught of body doubles come her way. Slowly, she builds a rhythm both with her opponents and her partner at her back until her head has cleared enough for her to realize how silly it had been to let the words of a woman like the general affect her. She has no room to speak on either of their pasts. They may have made mistakes, but they have paid and paid for those mistakes in guilt. While the imitations are likely nothing compared to what the actual general can do, there are so many that the princess begins to tire and she reckons the real general will come out once they are both too exhausted to give her their combined best. 'What a coward,' she thinks, breaking a deadlock and pushing the imitation into the sword behind her. "She has to be close then, no?" the princess asks, eyes scanning the room for the device that Iskra mentions. The smoke from earlier finally begins to clear as well, allowing her to make out the various devices that are within the command deck. At the center of the room, she can make out a promising green-blue glow of fluorescent light coming from the floor. "There," she nods her head over to the light, "I wager she's sealed under the floor in that machine."

As they make their way towards the center, it becomes clear that Verity's theory must be partially correct as the apparitions of the general are spawning from the center of the floor. "My dear, do you think that you can hold them off on your own?" She shoves another group of clones backwards, "I am going to search for the control panel and force her from hiding." A task that is easier said than done with the clones never stopping and, if anything, it seems the general is getting more desperate––however, that comes as an advantage as the princess's notices that the clones are trying to drive her away from one of the control panels. She smirks, then begins to drive back her ghost opponents until she reaches the panel. She raises Telos high into the air, ready to smash the panel with the pommel of her sword.

"Your attempts, I must admit," the general chides, "are impressive, but they will not be enough for you to bring me down! I have brought down criminals worse than you lot. It will be my joy to face you both."

The general's words, however, do nothing to stir Fear in the princess and she continues to arc her sword down against the panel, ignoring their opponent entirely. Sparks fly off the machine, but Verity has no Time to investigate if her thoughtless action actually shutdown the machine with the clones behind her demanding attention. Mid-blow, the clones all vanish in the room and the princess turns to look back at where she had assumed the general is hiding. The blue-green lights on the floor flash on and off and steam begins to escape as the seal is broken, making a 'pfssshht' noise. While the princess had not been sure of what to expect, she had not expected the lid of the hatch to fly off its hinges.

... She also had not expected for a hulking woman to emerge either. (The clones hadn't been nearly as giant.) Her eyes widen to saucers as the general crawls out from the floor, still wearing that arrogant smirk of hers. She locks eyes with Verity, "Aren't you going to come at me, princess? You were so confident that you'd deliver justice earlier," she says, rising to her full towering height, "I'll even throw in a free hit, because I'm feeling generous."

'This is not good,' she thinks when she looks over at Iskra, her features easily communicating that this must be a trap. (She also remembers how lady Jezebel had made her a similar offer when she had fought her. Given the general's alleged connections, it's not a reach to assume she may have the same technology that that wretch employed all those weeks ago.) "Respectfully, I must decline. Neither of us require assistance when it comes to bringing down villains such as yourself," the princess says through gritted teeth. "Enough of your games and tricks! Draw your weapon if you wish to try to save your Life."

 

[Syntra]

Ah, no wonder, no wonder! It didn’t surprise Iskra that her conclusion had been right-- cowardice was the general’s mother language, as was always true for those who only knew how to spew venom, and so it made sense that she’d sink so low. On some level, though? On some level, the pirate couldn’t get over this. Just, what an utter disrespect to the sanctity of combat! (Iskra rejected a lot of things from her past now, to the point you could easily substitute ‘most’ for ‘a lot of,’ but certain principles? Certain principles weren’t bad on their own-- they wouldn’t have been, at the very least, had they not been poisoned by the Holy Vessel’s vileness. You know what she still believed in, for example? In proving yourself. In respecting your opponent and, ultimately, yourself as a fighter as well. Just, why would you insult your own skill via resorting to such underhanded means? Didn’t that only imply that you didn’t trust in them? And when you yourself admitted that, how could anyone else trust you? Not that trust seemed to occupy a high spot in the general’s list of priorities, of course-- oh no, no, no. With women like her, Iskra knew, titles were all that mattered.) “Worry not,” she told Verity, “I’ll hold them back.” Because, pfft, as if mere fakes could stop her! That Verity was afraid for her safety in any capacity felt nothing short of ridiculous, if she were to be honest. The captain Iskra had conquered skies, and those imitations? They couldn’t even hope to touch her. …presuming that they, of course, had any cognitive functions at all. Perhaps that was a bit of a stretch, actually? Since emulating the human mind would have been too exhausting, and the pirate sorely doubted that she’d expend that much energy on something that could ultimately trip her up. Independent thinking, in her corrupt organization? Yeah, not too likely.

…and, indeed, the clones went down swiftly. Just like grass couldn’t hope to oppose a scythe, sharp and merciless, they couldn’t help but fall before Iskra-- her sword did not hesitate, and neither did she. Left and right, the generals were falling, falling, falling, and then… then they all dissolved into nothingness, as if they’d been made of mist. Too bad that the true trouble starts now, Iskra thought. She would have loved to chalk that thought up to her pessimism, but the way this was developing? Yeah, no way did woman did not have a bunch of tricks up her sleeve. “Give up,” she said after she joined Verity, her faithful sword in her hand. “I know not that honor means little and less to you, but if you wish to preserve a shred of dignity, that is what you will do. All the other doors are closed to you.”

“Hahahaha!” she threw her head back, carefree, as if she was talking to her best friends and not, you know, her would-be murderers. “You truly believe that nonsense, don’t you? How tragic. It is most unfortunate that you do not know your own place, princess and pirate. That is where most evils stem from, you see? From not reading the room, so to speak, and from thinking that you're better than everyone else.” Which, how funny, wasn't it? Iskra almost choked on her laughter, really.

"Do you not see, general, that you're looking into a mirror? Because that is your problem, not ours. Your curse to bear, in truth." It didn't seem that her words reached the woman, however-- there was no understanding, not a sliver of humility. And honestly, why expect it at all? She worshiped an altar made in her own likeness, so no, she couldn't see the blemishes. For that, it had always been too personal.

"A smart little thing, aren't you?" she taunted Verity. "I thought that you'd attack mindlessly, like the wild animal that you are, but it looks to me that this animal has learned some tricks. Well, well. Why not, after all? If nothing else, this will make it more fun. I wonder, have you ever heard of Eisdavir?" Iskra shot at a glance at her princess, because she certainly hadn't. (What was up with people and naming their swords, anyway? At least that was what the name was probably referring to-- the general caressed it as she spoke, in a way that struck her as far too intimate, and... well, the context just told her.)

"It is a sword that can cleave the heavens apart, forged from the tears of an imprisoned goddess. It is said that it is imbued with the power of her grief. Can you withstand it, I wonder?" ('No,' her eyes said. The captain didn't claim to be some great expert on the human soul, or even someone who could read body language all that well, but on the battlefield? On the battlefield, everyone became her sister, as close to her as if they'd shared the same womb. And, the general's attitude? She was oozing confidence, like only a sage or a madwoman would. Now, out of those two, which one was she? Far sooner than Iskra would have liked, they'd know.

The general swung her blade, and the reality around them... it started dissipating, with shards of it cutting their skin. "Retreat while you can, fools!" her voice boomed. "Bow before my power, and I might let you live!"

 

[starboob]

♕ PRINCESS VERITY (EXILED) ♕​

Verity has more than a bad feeling about their current situation. It had not felt so earlier, when she had been minutes younger and more foolish, when she had thought that this would be a rather easy brawl to win. Their opponent being a coward and both of them having faced some of the nastiest foes this galaxy has to offer made it seem as though they would once more be favored by the Divinities. The princess has not necessarily lost her faith that she is favored, but she is quite certain that that faith is about to be put to a test––as it always is so why is she even still surprised? Perhaps because she had not thought there could be something worse than lady Jezebel or Arendelle. Her relationship to Demetria, too, led her to believe that the general would only be an older version of her short-lived fiancée. She had not anticipated her being two heads taller, actually formidable, or in possession of such an impressive weapon.

The broadsword in the general's hand looks as though it is trapped inside of some form of mirage; it's color also seems to absorb its environment making it difficult for the princess to focus on. She can almost make out the outline of the sword and that is all. Despite her worries about this situation, she knows that she has her Iskra by her side and they have yet to face a foe capable of stopping them. Perhaps the general will be the villain to shatter their seeming invincibility. Or perhaps she will be another disgusting smear wiped clean by the increasingly famous pirate and princess duo. The princess figures it is best for her to operate as if this is their fight to lose, because admitting defeat so soon? Before their swords have been clashed? Oh, that is not a kind of foolishness that Verity makes a habit of owning. She takes her stance next to her pirate, trusted swords held high.

"An imprisoned goddess? Are we about to learn of another of your crimes, general?" Verity spits, knitting her brows together until they form an angry line across her face. She ignores the taunt, refusing to let herself get baited into a trap she is not certain she can get out of.

The general rolls her eyes and laughs, "I am flattered you think that I am capable of such a feat, princess. But, no, I am not the one who imprisoned our Lady of Misfortune. I simply serve her warden, our Lady of Revenge," she smirks. "Don't look so shocked, princess. You miserable low-lives are not the only ones who have goddesses watching over you."

The princess's eyes widen, then, as she watches the general slice through the fabric of reality. As it shatters around them like glass, Verity makes a run for it. (She can't help but to now wonder whose goddesses shall prove more powerful and admittedly? The idea of finding out does excite the princess. She grabs onto Iskra's arm for balance as she runs from the tear in the universe.) "That sword is in the wrong hands. We cannot let her keep it." Not that she thinks Iskra would think of letting the general live at all. "It needs to be hidden from women with corrupt hearts," she continues, ducking behind one of the last remaining barriers. The general laughs from behind them, "So much for courage, princess and pirate! Did I not warn you that today would be your last day as menaces in the galaxy?"

Just as the general bellows out another taunt, the barrier disappears before the princess can even think of a plan to take on a woman wielding a sword that warp reality. In fact, once the barrier is gone it becomes apparent that they are no longer aboard the guardian vessel. The princess and pirate now find themselves in some odd desert forest? The trees that would make up a forest are ashen and resemble bone. Despite their sickly state, they shoot up so high into the amber sky that Verity cannot make out their spindly tops. The sand that moves around them, while as solid as sand usually is, moves like the ocean with waves and undercurrents ripping through the strange forest. Once again, Verity grabs onto Iskra's arm for balance. "What in the Cos––"

Before Verity can finish that thought, the general falls from the sky and, in one swift motion, arcs her sword down towards the princess. Verity barely manages to catch the attack with Gwenwyn. Easily, the general pushes her backwards and strikes again with her nearly invisible sword. She blocks the attack, their swords locking together, and as the princess is being pushed backwards her sword begins to light up with cracks that threaten to shatter her blade. Hurriedly, she breaks the lock and puts some distance between herself and the general, looking at her sword to see the damage. 'By the Divinities, what is this power?'

"It's futile. You'll never win," the general sneers, "I will give you one las––aaaargh! You bitch!" she howls, having received an eye-full of sand thanks to Verity. (Apparently blessed swords do not protect their wielders from underhanded attacks that happen to be this princess's speciality.) The princess looks over to Iskra and motions for them to use this temporary opening to bring the general down.

 

[Syntra]

Ugh. Did every single woman in the galaxy need to have an enchanted sword these days? Back when Iskra had started out as a pirate, these artifacts had been few and far between-- rare pearls hidden in the sand, only for the most courageous adventurers to discover. Now, though? Everyone and their mother seemed to have one! (More than likely, this should have frightened her. Fear should have clouded her vision, with her heart beating wildly in her chest, but, in truth? In truth, Iskra felt annoyed more than anything else, really. The general was worth less than the average leech feeding on unsuspecting swimmers, so why, oh, why did she possess such a thing? By the Shade, a reality shredding sword truly was wasted on the likes of her! …on anyone, now that she thought of it. Just, how could you possibly justify so much power being concentrated in a single pair of hands? Destroying something greater than yourself was just wrong, Iskra thought. Destruction and creation were two sides of the same coin, after all, and in order to create something, you first had to understand the concept-- its very essence, similarly to how the goddesses of the old knew what made the universe tick. Why, then, should it be different with destruction? If you wished to annihilate something, then you had to know what you were doing as well! And that knowledge could never be born of ignorance, no matter what fools said to themselves. Oh no, no, no. ‘Measure twice, cut once,’ the old proverb said, and how could you possibly measure a whole facet of reality? You couldn’t, that was the answer. The human mind would never comprehend the consequences tied to that one decision-- it was a giant spider web, with most of the threads out of sight, and connected to other, possibly even larger webs. Ah, the ignorance required to wield such a weapon must have been staggering!)

“Indeed,” Iskra nodded, “such a sword should not be used at all. It is not right.”

“Not right,” the general mocked, her eyes cold and cruel. “The word you are looking for, my dear captain, is cowardice. I understand that you are too afraid to fly, but why would you confine everyone else to the ground just because of that? No, you don’t get to decide such things. The world belongs to those who aren’t afraid to take it, captain, and I have the blessing of my goddess to do so!” …right, of course. Wasn’t it convenient? Iskra also didn’t fail to note how, despite all of her bravado, the woman was essentially hiding behind her Lady of Revenge, but… well, that wasn’t her problem, nor was it something worth pointing out. No, let her wallow in her delusions-- those who believed that they were backed by some kind of divine power always succumbed to arrogance, sooner or later. Why take it away from, then? No, this served her and Verity’s purposes, regardless of what the woman thought. Still, how very fitting! Revenge is the most foolish of ideals, slick with blood and smelling of disappointment. Of energy wasted. No wonder that this goddess has chosen her as her apostle, truly. The temptation to voice those thoughts was great, though not so great as to undermine their position, and so Iskra sealed her lips.

This fight shall be a difficult one, the pirate thought. Just, when had been the last time they had met a foe who controlled their arena so fully? So absolutely? It was like... like grappling with the Lady Vengeance herself, and feeling your bones break under her strength. We need a strategy, and quickly. Which, easy to say! Easy to say and much harder to put into action, especially since the general wasn't going to give them any time to think. Once again, however, the princess proved how quick on her feet she was-- swiftly, her mind gravitated towards the simplest solution, and Iskra couldn't help but fall in love a little more. Alright, my turn.

Unwilling to let herself be overshadowed, Iskra jumped forward. Relying on your sword a little too much, aren't you? That, general, means that without it, you are worthless. A nobody, as empty as the titles you wear. The sand couldn't provide a suitable distraction forever, though you know what could? Well... a lot of things. For starters, the pain that must have rippled though her body-- the woman howled, like a wounded wolf, and then her blood began raining from the sky, drip, drip, drip. (The place she had targeted? Why, her sword arm! Her sword arm that was lying on the ground now, still gripping the holy weapon fiercely. ...what a pathetic, pathetic thing. How come it had seemed so powerful before, back when it had still been attached to her body? That was a question Iskra couldn't answer.)

"You disgusting pigs! Criminals!" the general shrieked, but she paid her no mind.

"Verity, my dear," Iskra placed her lips against the princess's knuckles, "will you finish her off? I believe you've earned the victory here."

 

[starboob]

♕ PRINCESS VERITY (EXILED) ♕​

Everything the general has coming to her, she has earned. If not because she threatened the lives of their friends to draw them out in such a cowardly manner, but for her prior crimes––both the ones they know of and the ones that remain hidden behind her many medals and awards. Verity hopes that someday the galaxy will know that challenging Iskra and herself will only result in the deliverance of Justice with the punishment usually being execution. They have yet to meet a villain worthy of a second chance, though she guesses that neither would be opposed if a villainous woman were to prove herself worthy somehow. Have they both not been given second chances, after all?

The general, however, is likely not such a woman. So she shall meet the edge of their blades. (Yes, before meeting Iskra the princess had a staggeringly rosy view of the world. A belief that there is always a clear and clean way to remain good; one such belief telling her that one must never stain her sword with blood; that all Life is sacred and there are no excuses for bloodshed. However, since allowing the pirate inside of her head and greeting each of her challenges as opportunities to deepen her own understanding of the world, she has learned the universe is not meant to exist in hues of pink. She has learned from Iskra and knows that some women have tarnished their most sacred gift from the foremothers; that their existence alone threatens the peace of many others.) When the general’s arm flies through the air, the sword still firmly gripped in her detached fist, Verity does not flinch or think of her pirate any different. Instead, she blushes when Iskra kisses her knuckles then she removes her scarf from around her neck and wraps it around the pirate. “Certainly, darling. Do watch my scarf for me, bloodstains are the worst to remove.”

Perhaps finding it poetic, the princess sheaths her own swords and reaches for the discarded god-sword. When her fist wraps around the hilt, she feels power surge through her veins and can understand how a weak woman could become drunk on this feeling. The power coursing through Verity is enough for her to lift the broadsword with one hand as if it were nothing more than a stick. “The goddesses do not smile down upon you today, general. Think on that and do say hello to your precious lady Jezebel and Demetria for me,” she smirks, as she raises the sword above her head. Then she curves the sword down and at the last moment the general looks up, eyes bloodshot and wide, but if there is any remorse in her soul? Verity does not see it. Not the second before the blade catches her neck or after. Blood spurts from the headless body while the head rolls off to the side. Gruesome? Perhaps, but a quick Death is the only kindness Verity can give to the general. Even if she is not deserving of such.

After the opponent falls, the princess turns to smile brightly at the pirate and quickly steps over to place a kiss on her cheek. “We ought to tell the crew to stage an intervention if we ever start to monologue before slaying our opponents," she jokes. "Granted, I do think we would have won no matter our method, but imagine if she had not droned on so much about her awesome power,” she rolls her eyes, “Speaking of which,” she offers the sword to Iskra for inspection, “what shall we do with such a weapon? Impressive as she is, I am loyal to Gwenwyn and Telos and have no desire to replace them; we have taken care of each other faithfully. Though Eisdavir is not one I would trust in just any woman’s hand, quite frankly, and the prospect of her falling into the hands of another like the general does send a shudder through my spine.” Verity pauses and furrows her brows together as she thinks. “I do think you would make a fine wielder, though I don’t think I’ve ever seen you hold more than your own sword before,” and the thought of Iskra with two weapons in her hands slaying their enemies? That is a thought she will have to investigate later as it sends bloom to her cheeks and stirs her stomach. She coughs, “Ah, perhaps we can think this over on our way back to the ladies.”

Though while Verity has chattered away, the reality the general had bent has disassembled like toy bricks until they find themselves, shockingly, back on Inure––the sword apparently knowing where to send her new wielders. It comes as a relief, however––especially when the princess looks back at the general’s fleet. The one that is a smoldering graveyard thanks to the dragon, who is still happily tearing through the steel hulls and batting escape pods into each other. Once more the princess appears amused, “I wonder what this shall do to our reputation? Apparently, we’re becoming quite known for being menaces to the ‘good’ authorities."

 

[Syntra]

"Gladly," Iskra took the scarf, and wrapped it around her own wrist. "The fabric is far too precious to be stained by the likes of her." Because, no, no part of the general deserved to be preserved-- her life was to be shattered, along with her legacy, and keeping such a memento would undermine that effort. Would it not be wasteful? Cruel, even, to all the victims the vile woman had left in her wake? Most certainly, and Iskra... well, she intended to do right by them, even if they weren't there to appreciate it anymore. This is for all the Erans who couldn't be saved, she thought. You may be drowning in obscurity, but soon enough, your murderer will join you. How would they welcome her, hmm? With kind words, or with bloodlust in their eyes? Iskra had an idea. "Do go on, my dear. Show her just how badly she underestimated us." Truly, everyone seemed to insist on such a warped interpretation of their strength that it was mind-boggling-- one would have thought that the feared pirate and princess duo would actually be, you know, feared, but apparently, that would be too logical for the chaos that ruled this universe. Instead, their reputations attracted challengers like honey attracted flies! Well then, Iskra thought, if that is the case, they shall be crushed. Flies deserve not any other treatment.

The general whined, her spirit as broken as her body, but Iskra? Well, unfortunately for their foe, Iskra's memory worked this time-- worked just fine enough for her to remember her smug smile, and all the crimes that she had tarnished the history with. (In what world did such a woman deserve mercy? In a fictional one, perhaps, where actions didn't have consequences and wrongs could be righted with a heartfelt apology, but no, they weren't living in that version of reality. Where they lived, consequences had teeth, so why protect those who had brought pain to so many? Those had trampled upon lives, and seen them ground to dust? Kindness would be wasted on them, Iskra was sure. 'Please a demon, and she will thank you with hell.' That wisdom had been passed down among her people for generations, so who was she to doubt the validity of those words?)

"Yes, cry," the pirate nodded, not a hint of mercy in her words. "Perhaps you will taste a fraction of the horror that you've subjected your victims to, and feel genuine regret for the first time in your life. Treasure that feeling, general. Maybe, if you engrave it in your mind, you shall be born anew, this time with a functioning moral compass. Pray to your goddess that you won't be led astray again-- because, if that happens? We shall hunt you down, as many times as it takes." Their foe had seemed terrifying back then, as powerful as the goddess that favored her, though now? Now, Iskra saw that she was as breakable as everyone else, and perhaps even more. Verity showed her even less mercy than she herself did, deciding that her own blade would be her demise, which... ah, fitting, indeed! If there was a better punishment, the pirate certainly wouldn't be able to think of it.

Not sparing the general's corpse a single look, Iskra focused her attention on Verity. "True," she offered her a small smile, "if that ever occurs, any reality check we get will be a deserved one. You are right to ask these questions, I think. But, frankly? I do not desire that sword, nor the power that comes with it. I..." her throat was suddenly very dry, dried than a desert, "...I've tasted it, a little bit. What it feels like to have absolute power. I was not prepared for it, and I feel even less prepared to wield this weapon. I don't want to, Verity. Is it that wrong, really, that I wish to live for myself? In that, at least, there is a kind of certainty-- if my efforts turn to ashes, at least I won't disappoint anyone else." A childish stance, perhaps, though could you blame her? No woman should be forced to bear that kind of responsibility, let alone her. "I fear that I wish not to be the kind of heroine that bards sing songs about," Iskra sighed. "Pursuing a less grand destiny, I feel, is less likely to end in disappointment."

The blade transporting them back to Inure was... well, honestly one of the least unexpected things to happen today, so the pirate merely shrugged. "You are right that we should decide what to do with it, though. I... don't really believe that anyone should own it, if I am to be honest. I mean, why would you force that amount of responsibility on anyone? It doesn't feel fair to me. Those that seek that kind of power upon others should not have it, either."

'Correct,' the wind around them whispered, soft and precise. (Oh, so now the sword spoke? Alright, Iskra had officially witnessed everything that was there to see. Why not!) 'My forging was a mistake. A crime. Princess, pirate, won't you destroy me? You only need to unravel the threads that bind my existence together. Will you do that for me, please? Should you do so, your contributions will not be overlooked. That, at least, I can promise to you.'

 

[starboob]

♕ PRINCESS VERITY (EXILED) ♕​

It is hardly surprising to Verity that Iskra believes she is not already a heroine the bards sing about. As if she has entirely forgotten of the princess's promise to write those very songs! Though she takes no offense––Iskra's bashful obliviousness is what makes her Iskra and it would be a lie to suggest that Verity did not fall for her because of these qualities. She's endeared by them. Amused, she tilts her head to the side, "Iskra have you not considered that I have a––?"

Unfortunately, whatever poke the princess was going to make is interrupted when the sword whispers.

"The sword––?" Verity gasps in surprise, arching her brow as she scrutinizing the divine weapon. "It just spoke to us?" she continues, stating the obvious rather unhelpfully. Though in her defense, she is unsure of whether or not the whisper had been real or the result of exhaustion. (Really, when is the last Time the princess had a proper moments rest? It seems gone are her days of lethargy.) Thankfully, the look on Iskra's face tells her that she heard it speak as well. She takes comfort in knowing that she is not alone in her descent into madness, as she can think of no other explanation for this odd occurrence. ...Then again? Why should Verity even be surprised? Have her adventures not already taught her that magic is as abundant as the stars in the sky? That there are wonders in this galaxy that her beloved stories could only dream of conjuring? Has she not already challenged goddesses? Befriended dragons? Witnessed the dead rise again? Apparently none of that had been enough to prepare the princess for swords that (who?) talk. (Of course, she knew they had personalities, but she had no idea that some could actually articulate themselves! Though, perhaps, she should have expected that from a goddess cursed sword.) "And we are to destroy her?"

She looks back at the sword, expectant for it to say more, but it remains ever quiet. Then she looks up at Iskra, shrugging, "Well, I suppose that sorts things out for us." (Honestly, it comes as a relief that they will not have to think over how to protect or dispose of the weapon. Such a decision would have most certainly burdened the princess with all the potential what-ifs that come with decisions. So if this is what Eisdavir wants, then so be it. Who is the princess to question the whims of a weapon made from a goddess's Grief? Even she can see the truth in what the sword has said and, in conjunction with Iskra's earlier concerns, she needs no further prompting if this is the way it is to be. Besides, letting this sword linger in the galaxy, even if hidden, does not guarantee that it will never fall back into evil hands. The galaxy and existence are much too like a pendulum for things to remain on the good side of things for too long.) The princess inspects the sword once more, lifting it close to her nose and testing it's edge. (If this were an ordinary weapon, Verity would propose feeding it to Volcanic Mouse given her astounding ability to consume anything, but she guesses that will not be an option for something that has been crafted of materials not of this galaxy.) "I must admit, I haven't a clue what Eisdavir meant when she referred to her 'threads.' I know she meant it not literally, but I am still unsure of what to make of her hint. Could it have something to do with the Lady of Misery?"

That would make sense to the princess, though given how this day has unraveled? She is not sure she can rely on such consistencies. And it would seem Verity is right to remain suspicious of the ways of the divine as the sword begins to glow and blink. Before there is even Time to question or fully process Eisdavir's newest trick, a shadow passes over Inure. Something that is enough to chill Verity, because for something to cast a shadow over a ship as large as Inure? Oh, she had hoped that the guardians would not have discovered the general's Death so soon, because the shadow can only belong to a... miniature planet? At least, that is what the princess makes of it when she cranes her neck and sees a large spherical mass covered in foliage floating above the Inure. She could have sworn that they were not near any planets. "Please tell me that you see it, too. If not, break the news of my insanity gently, darling," she half-jests, rubbing her eyes to clear away her confusion. 'Stranger and stranger... Divinities sure have a fascinating way of amusing themselves.'

Seems she thought too soon as a portal that looks like small pool materializes in front of them; the ripples in the water mimic what Verity assumes are runes and the song that comes up from the mist? It stirs up nearly every emotion in the princess––from joy to grief. Though rather than it being jarring, she finds it comforting for reasons unknown. "I... Well, I assume this has something to do with Eisdavir. Shall we jump in?"

 

[Syntra]

In truth, that the sword could talk didn’t surprise Iskra. Next to everything else that had happened in the last month or so, this seemed almost ordinary-- an event as common as, say, the sun rising in the east, or songbirds singing in the morning. (When had been the last time she’d witnessed either, come to think of it? Those joys were reserved for women who were planet-bound, who still had a place to call their home, and Iskra… well, Iskra was a vagrant, wandering wherever her legs took her. If she had ever had a place to call her own, that was now but a memory. In exchange, the pirate had received the sky, but was it worth it? No, not just the sky. People can be home, too, and I’ve found mine already.) “That is what she wishes,” Iskra replied, her eyes never leaving the blade. (How could something so beautiful have been born out of grief? Out of sorrow so profound that whole nations could drown in it, again and again and again? The true colors of things, she had learned, liked to hide themselves in shadows, but this seemed excessive, even knowing that. Far too counter-intuitive, at least.) “I do not believe it wise to question that wish. Sad as it is, some things shouldn’t exist.” A few months ago, Iskra would have put herself on that list-- an abomination, twisted and cruel, who only knew how to hurt and be hurt in return. What a pathetic little creature, right? Except that, unlike Eisdavir, she wasn’t a tool, and thus didn’t have to be used. Wasn’t meant to be used, actually. A Seed may have been destined to be broken, indeed, but you know what else was expected from it? Primarily, a Seed had to grow. To become something greater than itself, to lay foundations for generations of women who hadn’t even been born yet, to break out of its confinement! Who was to say, after all, that the shell was protective? It could very well have been a prison, designed to trap her inside. And, the most powerful realization connected to that? That she didn’t have to stay there, regardless of what the Holy Vessel had said. She was as hollow as her ideology, and I pity her for that.

“I know not what she meant by that, either,” the pirate shook her head. “I don’t doubt that we shall find out soon, however. If Eisdavir herself wishes to erase the stain of her existence, then I believe she shall send more hints our way.” A careless approach, maybe, but Iskra had learned to live like this, you see? To let the wind carry her, instead of swimming against the stream. (The universe was cold and unfeeling, she’d once been told. ‘It has no greater plan in store for you. You are only there because we willed you to be, so you must bend your back. In service, happiness. Don’t you know that to be true?’ And back then, she truly had, but now Iskra realized it was a lie, lie, lie! If the universe had no plan for her, after all, would it have allowed her to meet Verity? To receive exactly what she needed, right when she had? No, the world was much more complicated than either of them thought, and to presume you knew anything about it was peak foolishness.)

As if reality itself wished to confirm her thoughts, a whole planet hatched from the darkness, like a dinosaur out of an egg. “See?” Iskra smirked. “I told you. Let us see what is required from us, then--there is no time to waste.” If the pirate had learned anything at all from their adventures, after all, it was that evil never slept! Always, always were villains waiting for their golden opportunities, ready to stab them right in their backs. (Could they forgive themselves if they allowed Eisdavir to fall into unworthy hands again, hmm? No, Iskra didn’t think so. It had been mere seconds since she had been saved from the general’s clutches, so now she deserved to rest!)

The scenery that welcomed them was… well, it was hard to describe. The song that resonated through the air, for example? It burrowed itself right into the pirate’s heart, ripping the flesh apart, and yet, yet she found herself unhurt. Enriched, even. What was this sorcery? How could such a contradiction exist, plain for everyone to see? There could be no joy in pain, no satisfaction in loss, unless…) “I… I think this is a graveyard,” she said slowly, watching the blades of grass dance in the wind. (They were so high that they could reach her knees comfortably-- never once had they known razor, the cruel touch of a human who knew better than goddesses-creators themselves.) “It seems that way to me, at the very least. Eisdavir knows she has to go, so why not give her a proper burial? It is true that she never should have been forged, but at the same time, it is not her fault that it happened. She has thoughts and feelings, and yes, perhaps even dreams, so it strikes me as right to honor that.” Maybe the grass could hear her, because it parted before them in that very moment-- suddenly, there was a path in that green sea, just wide enough for two. “Shall we go, my dear? I believe there is a task that we have to fulfil.”

They walked and walked and walked, each step bringing them closer to their goal, except… except that no, it didn’t. No matter where they headed, they appeared that they were walking in circles! “Unravel,” Iskra growled, wiping the sweat off her brow. “You were right, Verity. Clearly, this is a riddle, and our answer is hidden in that word. What must we unravel to escape from this maze?”

 

[starboob]

♕ PRINCESS VERITY (EXILED) ♕​

For the princess, the song that whispers through the landscape, dancing through the blades of glass and flowers yet to be touched by woman, recall all her little Griefs. Not just the losses of family and friends––wounds that are still gaping, though somehow healing––but they also call her to the cherished toys mysteriously gone, the friends who moved away, and even the Grief she felt when she became a princess. (Shedding her prior identity had been the mourning experience she had been told to be thankful for and it had been no less painful. Growing pains are still pains.) This moment brings back all the little pains she has felt over the course of her Life and she allows herself to embrace them as old friends. Idly, as they walk an endless path, a well of tears spring from her eyes and she does not resist them. For there is something so peaceful about this place that she cannot quite say that she is sad––after all, she knows Grief to be more complex than a mere synonym for weighty sadness. She loops her arm with the pirate's, her slice of comfort in this cruel galaxy, and rests her head on her on her shoulder, closing her eyes to let the feelings flow through her. (Unlike Iskra, she does not seem to quite as concerned that there is no end to their path. It's almost as if she has forgotten their purpose here.) Quietly, she murmurs, "I can see why Eisdavir would choose this place to retire, for the serenity it brings may finally bring peace to her tired soul."

However, there is only so long that one can be completely enamored with the magic of a new place––even one such as Verity, princess of wonder. As her feet begin to ache and as the sword begins to weigh on her shoulder, she lifts her head at the exact moment that the pirate expresses her own frustrations. The princess stops them both in their tracks––deciding that forward is clearly to nowhere––and pinches the bridge of her nose. "I haven't a clue of where to even start looking for such answers. It figures we should not have thought it as easy as jumping to a mysterious planet and the key simply being before our eyes," since that is not how any of their missions have gone before. Still, she does not despair––if there are women more capable than herself and her pirate to solve this puzzle, she has yet to meet them. 'We are seekers and we have faced trials much stranger than this,' she reminds herself. "If the key is not what unravels a sword literally, then perhaps we ought to look at what unravels Grief." After all, this seems to be what the planet is woven with––not that she thinks they are to undo an entire planet, but there does seem to be a hint in focusing on Grief.

'So clever, dearest sister,' a voice whispers in Verity's ear, familiar and warm, sounding just like... No, she cannot think of that. (Cannot get her hopes up, really. It's just been so long since the ancestors were with her that she has more or less accepted that she has been forsaken forever. It's far less painful to believe that. It must be her own exhaustion, she is certain.) She swallows hard and shakes her head of the voice, "You have to transform it—the Grief, that is. The sage sisters taught that to pass through Grief one must allow it to first be, then new meaning or purpose may be formed. It does seem fitting that Eisdavir desires a new Life or purpose for herself.”

And, as if the princess’s words were a spell, the glade opens up to their left with a path that has an end. Or at the very least, their next step in solving this mystery. Now it is Verity’s turn to smirk, “Hmm, maybe you ought to try bending your imagination, my dearest dandy lion, if you are to ever keep up with my genius.” She nudges Iskra’s side with her elbow to punctuate the joke, knowing full well either of them could have reached the answer; after all, few parts of her own mind have been untouched by the pirate and there is no denying how much she owes Iskra for helping expand her horizons. Like swords against whetstone, they have become sharper together. (Perhaps that is what makes them the infamous pirate and princess duo, terrors or heroes to the galaxy depending on who is asked.) “This is a most odd task... or not odd,” she wrinkles her nose trying to search for the right word, “but perhaps a task with the least direction. Even the trials for the wayfinder seem to have more instruction,” well save for the last one in which they had not even known they were being tested. “Not that I mind the challenge––frustration and coming to understanding is a special reward. I personally think we’re better for it. What say you, my handsome pirate?”

With the new path laid before them, this one seeming to play no tricks as the last, they reach the summit of a small hill. It is clear of lush grass and wildlife in general, with only fresh rich soil, blacker than night, beneath their feet. Though despite reaching an apparent end, Verity cannot say what they are to do next. As in, if their answer is to transform Eisdavir she is not sure how this patch of land is supposed to help. "Hmm," she taps her chin thoughtfully and then places the sword gently onto the soft belly of the earth. 'Verity, who pulled you from your darkest place? What pulled you from it?' the voice from before prods and once more the princess swallows hard, shifting, before she looks at Iskra. "I... Iskra, is anyone speaking to you here? Myself aside?" she asks, her voice low and quiet, maybe even scared to ask such a question. (There is at least peace in knowing Iskra would never judge her. Her fear has more to do with... well, being wrong about who is speaking to her.) "There is one I hear, sounding much like my sister," one she last saw split open, "asking how I pulled myself from my darkest place. I think she's trying to help. I think the question is meant to help," she pauses, then tilts her head to the side, "How does one pull themselves from a dark place? Or rather, how do we help pull Eisdavir from her dark place so that she may be transformed?"

 

[Syntra]

Iskra, too, heard those whispers. To her, however, they felt like... well, like home? The dark and ugly cell she had spent most of her life locked in, with her hands bound, with her throat ravaged by thirst. (Back then, she had wished for more. She had wished and yearned and burned with desire, but there had been no words to describe her condition, no attempt to find them. How not? When grief was all you'd ever known, all you had ever allowed yourself to know, you dared not look beyond it. Regret, after all, was a comfortable place-- it hurt, yes, but it also conserved, turning all your days into a pleasant shade of sameness. No, to a grieving woman, there were no surprises. No surprises meant no shocks, too, and wasn't it just easier to exist like that? More effortless? You didn't have to think, didn't have to unpack anything, didn't have to rip any bandages off. (Sure enough, they melted into your flesh in time, but again, who cared? Certainly not Iskra. She who only lived to strike women down did not have to be beautiful-- no, she only had to cut, cut, cut, as deeply as she herself had been wounded. An endless cycle, as The Holy Vessel would have said. The thing was, she'd been wrong, you see? The words that had fallen from her lips had been needles, designed to get under your skin, but once you examined them... well, you could see they were small and petty, unable to capture reality in all its colors. They had never, ever rung true! ...her ears just hadn't been ready to make that distinction yet, that was all. For that, Iskra had forgiven herself ages ago.)

"Indeed," she agreed. "Still, from time to time, serenity is nothing but another kind of death. It makes you complacent. I am not saying that that is necessarily a bad thing, but we have to inspect each gift we are given, and decide if we truly wish to keep it. Sometimes, the sweetest offerings only serve to mask poison." Not that that was necessarily the case here, but why allow themselves to be sloppy with their judgment? No, no, no, Iskra would never fall for pretty-sounding words again. Always, always she would strive to look beyond that which was immediately obvious, she promised herself. "The universe doesn't bend to our whims, Verity," she said, oh so quietly. "That's what makes it worthy. If we were given everything that we've ever desired, would we even see it as precious? I don't think so." Scarcity created value, after all-- a mental trap, perhaps, but one they'd been designed to fall into as a species. How many women had spent their lives chasing a dream, only because nobody else could have it? That they couldn't have it, either, was just a pleasant bonus.

"I have no doubt that we shall persevere, though. We've always had. The goddesses ruling over these skies haven't conceived a trap that couldn't be conquered by the two of us yet, Verity. I know that to be true, if nothing else." And, truly, her words might as well have been a prophecy, for her princess proceeded to to speak words of wisdom. "Hmm?" Iskra raised her eyebrow, playful sparks dancing in her eyes. "Perhaps I wish not to surpass you, Verity. I am entirely comfortable sitting back, and basking in your brilliance instead. I am but a soldier, remember? To me, following comes naturally. And who else to follow, really, if not my guiding star?" Transforming the grief, huh. Iskra herself had done that, time and time again, till those dark depths in her soul were illuminated-- and, when the light had reached them? Well, she hadn't exactly found a buried treasure in there, but there had been something, alright.

"Grief obscures," the pirate offered her opinion. "It hides that which truly matters, and makes you focus on the superficial aspects. If you let it, it will break your mind. You aren't supposed to move in circles, you see? We were molded with the idea of going forward, and discovering new sights. That was why the universe was gifted to us." No, Iskra couldn't hear anyone, but there was no doubt in her mind that Verity wasn't hallucinating. Perhaps her grief was simply more clearly defined, tied to a specific person rather than it consuming her entire life...? Either way, Iskra would be there for her. Together, they would solve the riddle, and lay Eisdavir to rest.

"No, I cannot hear anyone," she said. "It matters not, though. My heart may not have gone through the same experiences yours has, but grief... grief is always the same, I think. The same dark cloud hanging above your head, the same merciless hands wrapped around your throat." How had the pirate pulled herself out of that dark place, hmm? Had she ever? (Yes, yes, yes, thousand times, that was what she would have loved to think, but truthfully, Iskra had no idea. To a fish, water was its entire world, so how could she, who had drowned in her own grief, recognize its absence? ...perhaps her heart was still poisoned, beating to the rhythm of a doomed dance. Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps.)

"I... I know not if I'm the right person to be answering these questions," Iskra piped up. "But, what helped me, I suppose, was to stop hiding from it. To acknowledge my pain. Grief thrives in the darkness, doesn't it? And darkness is ignorance, all those things you don't want to think about. Therefore, I... I think we need to make her realize it's not good to hide." Hesitantly, Iskra looked up at her princess.

"How do we do that, though? Do we just... tell her?" Somehow, that didn't seem right. "Eisdavir," Iskra began nonetheless, feeling like an utter fool, "it is alright for you to recognize that you were hurt... I suppose." And... crickets, because of course there were. Ah, there must have been a better way of reaching her!

 

[starboob]

♕ PRINCESS VERITY (EXILED) ♕​

The idea that serenity can lead to complacency is not a notion the princess has considered. There's the lurch in her stomach that screams, 'Reject, reject, reject!' but at this point she takes that as a sign to inspect, investigate, and decide what she deems is true for herself and to be careful not to impose those truths unto others. Especially not Iskra, whose Life has been so vastly different from Verity's own and yet, the princess reckons they have both been carved from the same stone for how often they find themselves in some form of alignment. "Is serenity truly the twin to complacency?" she asks, her tone curious more than challenging. She stares off towards the horizon, quiet as she rolls the idea around in her head. "I suppose that comfort can cause us to ignore what is not good. The adage, 'Why fix what isn't broken?' does come to mind. Just because something is not broken, does not mean there is not room for improvement. Plus, one must question who is it not broken for––as a princess, I recall trying to get council women to respond to that question, but they deemed the cost to others inconsequential when it was so invisible to them. Yet, I had lived those broken systems, in apparent serenity, and knew just what the cost was," she muses, running her fingers through her hair.

She then sits down in front of the goddess-sword, pulling on Iskra's arm for her to join her, and when they are sitting she pulls her knees to her chest and places Iskra's arm around her shoulder. Sitting in all her Grief again, she thinks she deserves the little comfort. Besides, these months have been so grand they have distracted her more than she had initially realized. Yet sitting here, does force her memories to resurface. Not a bad thing and not one she resists, as she believes she might need this as much as Eisdavir. "And sometimes when we are handed exactly what we want, it comes at such an unexpected cost," she mumbles, remembering the choices she has made to get to where she is now. How, at one point, she thought them all worth it before she watched her world burn before her. (Of course, to say she would change anything is difficult. On the one hand, yes, she would love to undo so many of her mistakes––sacrificing the colonies for her schools, allowing Halen to talk her into her politics rather than sticking with her own––but all of that led her here. How can she want to undo all of that when she did learn? It came at a cost, but she is willing to pay her debts. She will pay them, in fact.) "Grief obscures and she transforms if we loosen our reigns, that is what I believe at least. We can become lost in the question of why––why me? Why now?––but we can also use that question to reach an understanding. A form of Acceptance, if you will. Perhaps the most powerful thing we can do for our Grief is to Accept. Was that not what our second trial was about?"

"You may be a soldier, darling, but you are a captain, too, and a fearless one at that. Follow me as you wish, but not into the dark," she smiles, leaning over to peck her soldier on the cheek. "I try to remain as true as can be, but you have a true heart as well and she is worth listening to. I would not be the guiding star I am, after all, without my dandy lion––for dandelions come from the same genus as the sunflower and have you ever been a field of them? It's like getting washed by the sun. You, too, are an earthbound precious star." (In some ways, it feels oh so wrong to be so romantic in a graveyard and yet with her pirate, it feels natural. In front of Eisdavir, it feels necessary. Perhaps the sword needs to see that even lost souls find each other and can forge their own paths forward, away from despair. That togetherness, a sense of belonging, can water the driest deserts.)

When Iskra admits to hearing no one, Verity... Verity is not sure how to take the news. The hopeful side wants to believe her exile from her ancestors is nearing an end, that they have determined she has learned her mission, and the other part? The other part does not want to be so hopeful. Perhaps, this is only her imagination, one she has always been told is far too active for her own good. ('Really, Verity?' the voice chides.) "I think this makes you the perfect person to ask. So what if you are still in the thick of it? Our Grief does become a part of us, but as we allow ourselves to grow past it, it just becomes smaller relative to everything else, no?" she asks, leaning against Iskra and resting her head on her shoulder once more. (It had been the middle of the day when they arrived on this strange little planet, yet now, not even an hour later, it seems to be sunset––a breathtaking one with all the pinks and oranges blending together like sherbet.)

That the pirate's attempt does not work is disappointing, but it's not as though she accepts that as defeat. No, no, no! In fact, she doesn't think the pirate had been wrong to express her wish. She guesses and has an inkling that the sword may need more proof that it is okay to be hurt. So Verity clears her throat and decides to continue on their conversation, to share with both Iskra and Eisdavir her Grief. To show she understands. That they can all be with this, together. "Serenity is actually the name of one of my sisters––or was. The ancestors had a bit of a theme following myself," they used to tease Priscilla for being the odd one out, in the way sisters do, "She got her name shortly after the sister between us died, actually. Our middle sister was still a sprite and never got a name. Sometimes, for reasons unknown to even the sage sisters, a sprite cannot handle the ancestors when they come to us. They get sick, but it's a sort of sickness that only exists in the mind. There is almost nothing physical about it and thus our medicine is ineffective. It is not always a Death sentence, to be sure, I also got sick when my grandmother first visited me. But for her, it was. I was seven at the Time and so confused how this could happen––was she not a good descendant? What had she ever done? I was angry, too, at the unfairness of it all. I remember one evening where myself and Priscilla ran through our neighborhood, screaming, and crying––entirely inconsolable––we ran through the brackish water behind our home, tore up the reeds, and we cried until our eyes had swelled shut. I don't remember how we recovered, it was so painful and I thought I'd never feel okay again, but I suppose... There was Serenity, who did not know what was happening, as she was three and still confused about where our sister had gone, and I honestly envied her for not understanding. But I also saw how she kept living. Yes, she did not understand but she still kept going and somehow that helped. Somehow, I suppose, I realized that I could be sad forever or I could be like Serenity and find ways to keep living. To not let my Pain define me. I am not sure if I am making much sense, but I guess what I am trying to say is... we find our ways to move on, like you did, Iskra, and how Eisdavir, you will too. I mean, since then I have lost more than one sister. I have lost what I called home and yet," she looks at Iskra, her love, with such warmth she wonders if the pirate can feel it. Her cheeks darken and she whispers, "Yet, I found a new home. New friends. New family, even."

Does the sword respond? Not as far as Verity can tell, but the winds do start to change around them and for some reason the princess takes that as a sign. "Iskra... I know the story of how you went from a soldier to a rebel leader to a queen, but you have never told me how you went from being a queen to a pirate. ...What was it like to leave your home?"

 

[Syntra]

“Indeed,” Iskra nodded. “You should never fall asleep on a bed of roses. If you do, you might find out too late that roses have thorns, and that you have signed your own death sentence. In a way, I suppose, that is what my people did. What we did.” The system had worked fine enough for them, after all-- their immortal queen, the famous god-slayer, had stood by their side, and with her, there had been nothing to be afraid of. (It had worked, that was, until it hadn’t. Until the power had fallen into the hands of one who was unworthy, of one who had silenced the true queen’s voice! What had they done then, hmm? Had they risen up? Had they chosen to risk it all, to win their freedom like Lellenei once had? Oh no, no, no. Not even remotely. Instead, they had chosen to look elsewhere, as long as it hadn’t concerned them personally. To The Holy Vessel’s cruel machine, they had fed more women, more and more and more of them each year, but the funny thing about ambition? The funny thing about ambition was that it couldn’t be sated. It never would have been enough, Iskra knew that now, and had they defied her earlier… well, many of her sisters could have been saved.) “Crying over spilt milk is pointless, however,” she sighed. “The time of action has passed. The only thing I can do is to learn from my mistakes, I suppose. Still, I am not saying that serenity is always poison,” the pirate clarified. “I just believe that it should be paired with a healthy dose of caution. Too much of anything will kill you. What is the difference between death and restful sleep, after all? It is the duration, Verity. That, and only that.” …technically, it was also a bunch of mechanical functions related to the mysteries of the body, but let’s not get too caught up in the details, shall we?

“I must agree with you, though. Too often, one woman’s paradise is another woman’s hell, and isn’t apathy the greatest of sins? We must not allow ourselves to fall into that trap, Verity. I am not saying that serenity and apathy are one and the same, or twins, even, but they are siblings, born of the same mother. We must stay on guard if we are to avoid mistaking one for another.” Accepting one’s grief, though… How could you even begin to do that? Wouldn’t that be akin to embracing the knife in your chest, and pushing it further? (Iskra didn’t know much about anything, really, but she did know that such things hurt. Why, then, allow them to hurt her further? Wouldn’t it have been easier to look away, and pretend that they did not exist? When she had still trained to become a soldier, back in those grey, soulless barracks where all hope went to die, the local bullies had thrived on attention-- a single glance had been enough to make you their target, sometimes. So why, why, why? Why employ such different tactics here? Because grief isn’t a bully, the pirate realized. It’s a part of me, like my arms or legs or, yes, even my sword. And denying herself… well, that carried a whole different set of implications.)

“Where else should I follow you, if not into darkness?” Iskra offered her yet another rare smile. “That’s what guiding stars are for, Verity. Besides, I do sincerely wish to go where nobody else has gone. I want to do it for myself, but for you as well-- we both deserve that, and so much more. For that, I’d wager, we shall have to conquer some dark places. I am not afraid, however-- I doubt we shall find more horrifying enemies than what we ourselves were to one another, a whole eternity ago. If we vanquished that obstacle, what can possibly stand in our way?”

Happy to provide support, Iskra put her arm around Verity’s shoulders and listened, as if her voice was the one thing that was keeping her alive. Her sisters. Sprites. What was it like, to have a family? To have it yanked away from you, before you could even blink? That Verity still stood proud after that, with her head held high… no, it didn’t surprise Iskra. It was a wholly expected outcome considering the kind of woman her princess was, actually, though that didn’t mean it deserved no admiration. “I am sorry to hear that,” the pirate whispered. “I know that my words can do nothing to soothe your pain, but if you want to talk about it… I am here to listen, I suppose. I understand not the loss that you have suffered, either, but I would like to say that I know what loss is like in general. Surely, if we try a little bit, we shall find out that there are more similarities than differences.” …because, underneath it all? Underneath it all, Iskra was a person, and pain was pain. Their individual circumstances might have been as different as the colors of a rainbow, but in the end, even the most contrasting colors met together in order to create the mosaic of life. That had to mean something, didn’t it?

The wind around them picked up, its melody sweet all of a sudden, and Iskra… well, Iskra had to reach deep within her memories, to the territory covered in cobwebs. “To me, leaving my home was…” What? What had it been like? What was she expected to say? ‘It tore my heart out of my chest,’ or something similarly dramatic? Except that, no, that wasn’t the way the pirate felt about it at all. “…to me, it was a relief,” she breathed out. “You must think me to be strange, right? But Verity, the truth is, that planet was never truly my home at all. I may have been born there, though when I think of it, I remember not my mother’s face, nor my childhood home. All that I knew when I lived there was the palace, and the Vessel, and the shame of what I had become. The taste of failure, too, when they put the crown on my head. I know I shouldn’t be feeling like this given what I owe them, but…” she gulped, “when the planet disappeared behind the horizon, I was finally free. As free as someone like me can possibly get, anyway. If there ever were any traces of homesickness in my heart, it was merely longing for things I’ve never known. I… I think they required too much from me, Verity,” Iskra finally dared to say. (The thought was sacrilegious, even for the goddesses to smite her from their heavenly palace, though somehow, she remained unharmed? That gave her the incentive to continue, too.)

“A soldier, a queen, a savior-- all roles bigger than life, and certainly bigger than one woman. The more I think of it, the more it is clear to me it could only have ever ended in tears. The epilogue to that story has always been set in stone, it seems. Am I cruel for thinking along those lines? For… for not mourning properly?” The sword didn’t respond, but somehow, the silence felt like a proper enough reaction on its own. Perhaps it was waiting for something, too?

 

[starboob]

♕ PRINCESS VERITY (EXILED) ♕​

The princess nods along to Iskra's words, always content to listen to her ideas and how those ideas came to be. Again, the differences of their lives may be stark––so much so that one would sooner think they repel each other––but when pared down to themes, they could not be more similar. Their lives have had the same face under different masks. "It's hard to not want to look backwards at the past and whip yourself over the mistakes a younger, less wise version of yourself made. Too often, I find myself chained to a level of perfection that probably only exists as a concept," she would have earlier claimed the Divinities were the only perfect beings, but, well, having met some of other pantheons? She realizes they are beings as fallible as the women they protect and guide. "But, you're right. The best thing we can do for ourselves is to grow. I think dwelling too long can be a poison of the mind as well." She had certainly let it poison her before. Before she learned to hold herself as gently as she does others. With a grin and once more nudging the pirate, she jokes, "If too much of a good thing is a Death sentence, I am surprised I am still alive, having had so much of you. But more seriously, let us promise to remind each other of caution, for I do not think that I alone can always be so self-aware. Try as I might, I am susceptible to blinders as woman is."

"Apathy is the Death of the spirit," the princess nods, "The sage sisters used to tell us that––used to as in, many generations ago it was one of their primary mantras. It's printed above their older temples and I saw it written on a memorial in the royal gardens. It's hard to believe it is still a value of my people when such inequality exists under a glittering veneer. Though I like to believe it can be brought back." Through struggle, most likely, but change is struggle even if for the better. Again, growing pains are still pains. "For if we do not care for our sisters, how can we expect our communities to thrive? For our environment to be whole?"

Though Verity hates to think about that Time where they were each other's worst enemy, she does not disagree that it had been their biggest obstacle. Goddesses have challenged them and lost. The only Time where they nearly came undone had been when they were against each other and never again does she want to be against her Iskra, her pirate––her heart and pulse. In fact, if her Life is a string of losses, she hopes to never Iskra because with the pirate, she is the richest woman in the galaxy. To bask under her tiny smiles and animate eyes, is all the princess needs to be fulfilled. She is sure of it. With a pleasant sigh, she reaches out to brush her thumb over Iskra's smile so that she has another way to remember it when her pirate is no longer. "I should know to expect such bravery from my little soldier," she smiles, "and if you want to go where no other woman has gone, conquer the unconquerable odds, then I shall be there with you. For the rest of my days and, well, if we have another Life, I hope in that Life, too. Let's become the legends of the stars––is that ambitious enough, darling? Or shall we aim higher?"

It's been so long since Verity has lost that sprite sister that telling this story does not wound her as it used to, especially as she has made meaning of it since. Still, she scoots closer to Iskra for her comfort, because the memory of one sister brings forth the memory of all and the fate of the rest? Those wounds still bleed. "Ah, it was painful, but honestly? Compared to what happened to the rest? I consider her lucky," she admits, swallowing hard and daring to look Iskra in the eye, because she has to see how awful she is for her next admission. Her throat tightens, her breathing grows shallow, but she presses on. "S-sometimes, sometimes I wish they all died that day Priscilla and I tried to rescue them," she touches the scar over her eye as the memories of that day bubble to the surface. "Because at least then, they would be safe. Seraphina would not have them. I know that I must be an awful sister for thinking such a thing, but I've had nightmares of what she might be doing to them and I just... I know I won't get to them in Time." Because even if she does manage to save their lives, they will not be the same.

When it is Verity's turn to listen, she shifts a bit so that she turned to face the pirate, eager eyes fixed on the other woman. 'A relief...' she repeats to herself, attaching no judgment to the word. 'Of course it had been,' she thinks, because having seen a glimpse of Iskra's Life on her home planet? Oh, she can see how its memory became tainted and that leaving would have provided Iskra much needed space from all those evils. "All these shoulds and oughts––who is to say that is wrong to have felt relief? To say that you mourned wrong? I cannot give myself the role of judge on your experiences," she has tried that hat before and it had ended terribly. "I imagine, for you, living on that planet might have been a grieving experience of its own. I cannot be certain, but from what you have shared, what I have seen, it would not be so shocking if it were. That was a harsh environment to grow up in and to have shape you. Perhaps, good riddance was the appropriate attitude," she offers.

"It is not cruel, not necessarily," she shakes her head, "to think there were too many expectations placed on your shoulders and that, as a result, they were damned from the start. But my pirate, I do not believe that you truly believe in that end to the story. When we met, you had wanted to do what you could to save them. Perhaps that is no longer your goal, but I do think their plight is still in your heart with how you choose to be now. You have not forsaken their memory, nor divorced yourself of your responsibility." She sighs, and runs her fingers through her hair, "Maybe they were doomed, we cannot know, but sometimes... there is no proper way to mourn with such devastation. There is only, I suppose, learning and doing what you can to honor the memories of those damned." Does Verity believe those words? On a deep level, yes, but she still struggles with the concept herself. Mostly because she worries it will not be enough and some part of her knows there will never be enough to honor the victims of her hand. This, she must Accept.

Eisdavir remains quiet as ever and Verity wonders if she is contemplating their conversations, whether she is listening at all. Maybe she senses the princess's wondering, because she does give a small rattle of... approval? Acknowledgment? Understanding? Verity knows not.

 

[Syntra]

“To be whole,” Iskra whispered. “Is that even possible? That which was once broken can never regain its wholeness, Verity. You can glue the pieces together, indeed, but still, still will you be able to see where, exactly, they had shattered. Perhaps that isn’t a bad thing, though. Not necessarily. Wouldn’t erasing the evidence be akin to erasing the past itself, after all?” The promise of oblivion was a sweet one, one free of so, so much baggage, but if the pirate had learned anything at all from her adventures… well, it was that sweetness often hid what was bad for you. Was it not known that candy made your teeth rot, hmm? Candy, or easy calories, so similar to easy thoughts. “And that would be ensuring that the history would repeat herself, inevitably. So, for that reason, I don’t believe we should strive to be whole. We should repair things, instead of returning to some hypothetical time when everything was alright.” Besides, Iskra didn’t quite believe that such a time had ever existed. In the history books, yes, but how much faith should one put into those ancient, crumbling pages? Women had written them, and women were fallible-- driven by ideology, their own needs, their mistresses’ quirks. If there is one faithful account among a million of texts, it will still be better than expected, Iskra thought. The truth is a fickle friend, you see? Even the ones who chase it are not guaranteed to catch it, for its form changes with every angle. Ah, yes, it is as changeable as an oil stain in the sunlight.

“I don’t think you are an awful sister,” the pirate grasped the princess’s shoulder tighter, as if to ground her. “I… well. My experiences are not universal, I know, but I will tell you this-- to me, death often was a release. Compared to what I went through before… yes, definitely. I would have chosen it, thousand times over. Therefore, I can see why you’d wish this fate for your sisters, if you could only pick between the two options. That being said,” she smiled gently, “I believe that this is your grief speaking, not you per se. The Verity I know would not resort to such a finite solution, you see? I shall not offer you vinegar and claim that it is honey-- your sisters, if they are still alive, are doubtlessly bearing the heaviest of burdens. Still, even if that is true, life isn’t as stagnant as you might believe. It is likely that they would never be the same, but they could get better. Once again, they could call you by your name, or ruffle your hair, or… I don’t know. Just live for themselves? That alone would have been worth it, I suspect. The point is, you never know what fate shall bring and so there is no point to giving up beforehand. I… I also didn’t expect that I might meet one like you,” a pink shade graced Iskra’s cheeks, “and yet, here I stand. Will you do me a favor, Verity?” Deeply, the pirate gazed into her princess’s eyes and clasped her hand. “Do not give up on hope. You were the one who taught me about its wonders, so seeing you disregard it would be too painful.”

Verity continued to speak, then, each word balm for Iskra’s bruised soul-- ah, if only she could, she would get lost in the depths of her voice! She would get lost in her, in fact, which… by the Shade, where were her thoughts leading her?! To a place dark and forbidden, forever locked to ones like her. (Although… why should that be true? Iskra had cast away her shackles, along with the rules that had once bound her. The Holy Vessel held no power over her anymore, so why, why, why? Why should she deny herself that which they both wanted, with all of their hearts? The answer wasn’t coming to her yet, but hey, they had all the time in the world.) “You are correct,” she agreed. “Some part of myself does wish to help still, and perhaps I will. I do feel responsible, after all. Even so, I have decided that, should it hurt me, I will not play the role of their heroine. Too many pieces of myself have been sacrificed already-- memories I will never recover, potential that I shall never explore. I didn’t get to decide any of that, of course. Now that I hold my own fate in my hands, though? I am thinking that I do deserve to be selfish, a little bit. It’s not like that is a crime.” The Holy Vessel had claimed that, of course, but wasn’t that alone proof of how misguided the philosophy was? You couldn’t listen to a broken compass, for Shade’s sake! …even if it was the only compass you have ever had, for the majority of your life.

“Selflessness has never been able to save it, anyway,” the pirate added. “Perhaps it is time to try out a different approach, and see what might work. In fact, isn’t being able to take care of yourself a prerequisite for taking care of others? Maybe, if I walk this path for long enough, I shall learn what my people needed from me.”

Throughout that entire time, Eisdavir was listening. Nothing in the world moved-- even the air itself hung still, as if waiting for their responses with bated breath. And, when Iskra finished her speech? The sword’s hilt exploded in colors, red and white and green, and all the shades in between. Ah, how breathtaking! …wait, now that the pirate looked closer, was it actually covered in flowers? Truly, this universe was full of mysteries.

“Rest in peace, Eisdavir,” someone said. Before long, the woman showed herself-- she was tall and handsome, only dressed in autumn leaves, and her eyes were piercing. “And you, Seekers, welcome. Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” The tone of her voice was curious more than accusatory, though still, Iskra found herself growing wary.

 

[starboob]

♕ PRINCESS VERITY (EXILED) ♕​

"Perhaps we ought to adjust how we define what is whole, then. In fact, perhaps we ought to think of ourselves as mosaics, broken pieces put together into something beautiful when one steps back to look at the bigger picture," she offers, tapping her chin as she thinks of the comparison. Another idea strikes her, too, and so she speaks on that as well. "Or redefine what it means to be whole. There are not many surviving artifacts from the First World, but of what remains? Many are technically broken or unfinished works and yet the women of my lands regard them as masterpieces, still. It does not matter whether the statues are missing wings or if the rug became unraveled, they are still regarded as if they are whole. Perhaps because we haven't a clue of what they'd look like otherwise, but maybe that is the key, too. To understand that we are as whole as we allow ourselves to be based on how we define our story, because no other woman or even Divinity can define that for us. It is perhaps our greatest autonomy, no?" she asks, genuinely curious what her pirate may think of that and eager to know just how a thought such as that might stir the pirate. "But, yes, I do believe we also have a great capacity to repair or reconstruct––whichever makes the most sense to us."

It feels sacred, what the pirate tells her. Holy almost. Something so precious she does not know how to quantify or begin to understand it, because she had not expected to be understood and she had not expected to forget her deep self––the hopeful Verity. It feels important to remember that princess and bring her back, especially in a moment of despair such as this, where she has forgotten it. (Halen, ever analytical and practical, had once told her that princesses do not hope. They inspire hope. They take action and justify the hope in their people's heart. A starved Verity believed that once, but now full? She understands it is everyone's duty to hope and that it is a princess's first responsibility to have it, otherwise how can she inspire? By allowing others to fill her cup and becoming a puppet? Halen would have wanted it that way, she is sure. But she is not here and even if she were, she would still be wrong.) Her sisters may not be as she knew them, but she is probably not much like as they knew her, either. That change does not have to be bad. If there is one thing she will promise herself, it will be to do right by them in whatever way she can when she saves them. With a light mist in her eyes, she nods, kissing the tips of Iskra's fingers to express her thanks. "Of course. I shall not lose sight of my hope."

"As I inspire you, you inspire me," she smiles, resting her heading back onto Iskra's shoulder. (Can they not exist like this forever? In this peaceful land where it is only them, each other, and a trove of conversation? It is these moments where she feels the deepest love for Iskra, the deepest connection to another and by extension, the universe. Never has she been so rewarded than when baring her soul to Iskra.) "There is not a woman I know with more courage than you. To see a woman break her chains and give herself a new Life... I know you say I helped, but truthfully, I think I only helped you see what you were already doing and to give it new names that felt right on your tongue. Whatever your new mission is, my Iskra, know that I promise myself to the cause. Your plight is mine and whatever you need from me––a hand, a mind, a sword––I shall give without question. I promise myself to you and you alone."

So taken by this moment, Verity almost forgot of Eisdavir entirely, but it is hard for her to miss how the sword erupts into a kaleidoscope of color. Rainbows dance across their face as the shimmery flowers reflect their colors onto the seekers' faces. Verity breaks into a smile, then an amused laugh as the buds rain over them. She grabs a bright strawberry colored bud and places it behind her pirate's ear. Still giggling, she rises from her seat without noticing their company until she makes herself known.

Immediately, Verity bows to the sage, recognizing her without knowing her. (Ah, another trial? Shall they all come at them as surprises now?) At the question, she straights and stiffens, feeling as though she is being tested on a subject she has not studied. "I... Apart of laying Eisdavir rest, wise one?"

The autumn woman smiles and nods, not giving the princess or pirate an inch of give.

"I suppose we have proven ourselves?" the sage only nods. It's encouraging and wordlessly tells the princess to continue. She thinks for a minute, back to the trials, searching for threads to pull on. "Well, I suppose we have learned. Ultimately, each trial has been more a test of our knowledge than our muscle. In this one... We explored Grief and the importance of making sense of it so that we may, like Eisdavir, transform."

"Correct," the sage nods, "In Grief, we are at our most potent, volatile selves. In Grief, we are forced to confront the most ugly realities. And, in Grief, we have the opportunity to grow, to repair, to understand," she gestures towards the last bits of falling flowers. "Young seekers, you are proving yourselves more than capable for the challenges that lie ahead on your quest. Already, your deeds across the galaxy have earned you the favor of many divinities, though not all are on your side. In all things Balance, and the ire of some is to be expected. The days of old are numbered. The worst is coming to your shores. The clock ticks. Worry not, however, of the future. These debts, you do not know. So celebrate now. Celebrate what you have, young seekers." Though her news is alarming, her smile is reassuring and it says, 'Do not worry.' (Yet all Verity wants to do is worry.) The sage then reaches into the ground, and cups a palmful of soil covered in Eisdavir's petals. Then a sack made of organic matter materializes in her hand, where she places the soil, and hands it to the pirate. "Honor Eisdavir and there shall be nothing that can break you, seeker."

 

[Syntra]

“I... ah, I know not what to say,” Iskra stuttered, her eyes shining with gratitude. (Just, how lucky had she gotten? Always, the pirate had assumed that she would die alone-- as alone as someone who hosted a Shade could possibly get, anyway. And yet, yet a woman like Verity was here, saying the sweetest things!) “If those things indeed were always part of me, then they were buried, so deep that I myself had no idea of their existence. Why shouldn’t you receive credit for finding it, then? Gold is found in the Mother Earth’s veins, too, and yet it doesn’t mean that the women who bring it forth aren’t to be thanked. They put in all the work, so they deserve the laurels. Although…” she smiled gently, “…I did have to work for it, too. I am not going to deny that, nor do I wish to. I suppose that, in a way, we are both responsible for this. Does that not make the most sense? For a flower to bloom, after all, you need both the sun and the soil-- on their own, neither of them can nurture it. That means not that they are worthless, of course, but... well, certain tasks you just cannot do alone. Maybe that was why the goddesses always intended for us to find our missing halves?” Not because they were incomplete on their own, but because, together, they could be more than a sum of their parts. Something far greater, indeed.

Following Verity’s guidance, Iskra fell on her knees, and touched the ground with her forehead. (Sages, those women were called. The pirate didn’t know much about them, save for that they were sacred in Verity’s lands-- not quite regular humans, no, but not goddesses, either. What could have happened to them to make them like this? Had they been blessed with the stardust, perhaps, and thus destined to the greatness from the very moment of their conception? Or had they somehow earned their place in the sky? So many questions, with answers too vast for her mind to even attempt to grasp! Even so, her princess held nothing but respect for them, which meant it was Iskra's duty to honor them as well. A guiding star, huh. Well, what else can I do if not follow that light? No, you didn't get to pick and choose-- it was always both or nothing, when it came to matters of trust.)

“The worst is yet to come,” the woman then said. How, though? And by what right?! Hadn’t they suffered enough, both at the hands of others and their own? Were they always meant to wallow in misery, dragging their feet through the mud? Oh, why? Why, why, why?! (...to so many people, life was a song. They danced to its rhythm, their skirts whirling, but to Iskra? To Iskra, it was a sword, always hanging just a few centimeters above her neck. 'No!' she wanted to scream. 'Not yet!' But a sword had no ears, and thus couldn't hear a thing. No matter how much she pled, how much she begged, it would always fall in the end, because that was what gravity did, and... and that would be the end of it, just like that. The last chapter in her book, never quite finished. Who would want to get invested in a story like that, hmm? In a narrative without a proper climax? ...Verity deserved not to be shackled to someone like her, truly. The princess's dreams were made of satin, of sweet whispers and dragonflies' wings, and what could she offer? Rot, and the maggots eating her corpse, and also an empty bed, once she joined her sisters in their grave. No. Did you not speak of autonomy, just a few breaths ago? Verity has chosen this fate. A fool she may be, indeed, but that is not for you to decide.)

"I shall be honest with you," Iskra cleared her throat. "What you said to us, right now? I do not like it. I do not like it at all. That being said, I recognize that it would be most unwise to shoot the messenger-- so, for your words I thank you, even if they bring me great grief."

It was hard to tell, really, whether the smile she gave them was one of mockery or sympathy. "Ah, sincerity. That, too, is a rare gift. I understand you have learned not to waste it on those who don't deserve it, right? Go forth, then. Say goodbye to Eisdavir, and be on your merry way." Led by some unknown instinct, perhaps, Iskra kissed the steel-- once she pressed her lips against it, she could taste soil, fragrant and heavy, so full of life that her eyes filled with tears. Farewell, my friend. I had never known you, yet I feel like I could have. Was this weapon not her sister as well, after all? This tool created against her will, possessing powers that never should have existed? The parallels were... ah, staggering.

And then? Then, before they could even realize what was happening, both the princess and the pirate found themselves aboard Inure, sailing the starry seas. "Seekers, pfft," Iskra chuckled. "I was led to believe that the title means that we should seek the trials, not the other way around. Still, I am not complaining. Who would have thought? It brings me some amount of comfort, too, that Eisdavir was able to find her rest." Gently, without thinking about it, she intertwined her fingers with those of Verity.

"I admit, my dear, that there is a regret that sits heavy on my chest," she gulped. "The graveyard reminded me of it. It's... it's my garden. She depended on me, and yet I abandoned her in her time of need. How could I have done that? I was hurting, but that gave me no right to turn my back on others."

 

[starboob]

♕ PRINCESS VERITY (EXILED) ♕​

Her heart sits in her chest like an anvil teetering over the cliff's edge, ready to drop at any moment. This is not the news she wants to hear. This is not what she wants to be reminded. And yet, is it not apt? Given the trial they have apparently completed, is it not perfectly appropriate for this to be the warning they are left with? She reasons, yes, but she still wishes she had not known and could have lived in blissful ignorance. (Then again, how angry would she have been if this had come at her by surprise? With no warning and no way of making sure their last moments count? Perhaps this is a blessing, if she chooses to see it that way. It just difficult to make such a choice so soon after the wound has been opened, but she will try to remind herself of that as a holy mantra.) She looks at her pirate, lips pursed tight together and brow stitched in concern. 'May you go peacefully, my darling. I shall be with you until the very end.'

When the winds pick up around them and drop them back abroad Inure, she looks around the opalescent ship, realizing it will soon be her sole responsibility. That these women will be hers to guide. (She has promised herself to Iskra and that means also to the things and people she cares of most of all; she must do right by these women in honor of her Iskra.) The thought does not daunt her and she knows that they will all be together in grieving the absence of their beloved captain. That provides her some comfort, knowing she will not be alone.

Thankfully, Iskra's chuckle pulls her from her future thoughts and she graces her with a smile, full and reaching her eyes. (Yes, the sage also told them to cherish the Time they have left. So she will do her best to do just that.) "An astute observation, my darling," she squeezes her pirate's hand, memorizing how it feels in her own and the warmth it provides. "Perhaps we ought to be called stumblers, for I think we have accomplished that more than seeking. In any case, it was a Beautiful way to rest a sword of that power." Absently, Verity looks up, expecting to see that graveyard planet hovering over them but it is gone, as if it never existed. 'I wonder if I shall ever see you again, strange world.'

"Hmm?" She returns her gaze to Iskra, brow raised. It takes her a minute to figure out what the pirate is talking about and when her mind catches up, she freezes. 'The garden...' Truthfully? Verity hates to admit it, but she had forgotten about that spot. Since discovering it had become a waste and since the last Time she brought it up, she has pushed it from the recesses of her mind. It's a ghost to her. She avoids taking any path that will take her close to it and when she is forced to walk by it? She rushes, eyes trained forward. Aside from Saavika, she doesn't think anyone has really looked at it much.

But this is not about Verity.

She nods, slowly, approaching the subject with the caution one uses when carrying a cup of boiling liquid. "Well, I do not think the fault is entirely yours when your neglect is rather understandable. Who can say it is easy to return to locations of such disaster?" she tilts her head, chewing on her lip. It's still hard to talk about this particular matter so freely. She knows she is forgiven, but she is still making sense of it for herself. The shame is still sticky on her fingers, but she remind herself that her moments with Iskra are fast dwindling. The divinities are coming to tear them asunder soon. She must move on from this to fully enjoy her Iskra. "But gardens are rather forgiving and I think with some gentle attention you––no, we... we can maybe restore her?" she suggests, slowly changing their course towards yet another graveyard.

When they arrive, it is about the same as Verity remembers, if not worse. The grass has all fallen to the wayside, there are large patches of dried dirt, the flowers have long since withered, and the waterfall that once ran is still water. (Iskra once said that all she did was watch over it, but clearly she must have done more.) Before either can even take a step inside, Volcanic Mouse bounds in from behind the couple––apparently having missed the place and not seeming to recognize that it is no longer full of delicious flowers. (Although, that does not stop their little friend from munching away at all the decay. She really will eat anything.) "Well, Mouse seems to have the right idea," she muses, letting out an airy laugh and taking a brave first step into the garden.

It is no surprise that the place feels different than it had before. It has changed. She has changed. Her and Iskra have changed since they last stepped foot inside of this place. She takes a deep breath and loops her arm with Iskra's. "Come, my dandy lion," she says, taking them on a walk, as they used to, rather than setting straight to work. "Do you remember when you first took me here? At the Time, I hadn't a clue of what to make of you and this only furthered my confusion. I could not understand how such a fearsome pirate could pour so much care and tenderness needed to bring forth a garden. But it opened me up to you and, well, it's no surprise that sooner after, I fell so hard and so fast for someone full of such depths," she smiles back at Iskra. As they come to the spot where Verity had committed her greatest sin, she slows. "This garden coming to such a desolate state is as much my fault as yours, for my hand contributed in stripping this place of its peace. I think it is only fitting we start her repair where it all collapsed, if that is alright with you?"

 

[Syntra]

"Stumblers," Iskra grinned. (Who would have thought that she, too, was capable of such things? Of smiling like that? A whole eternity ago, the pirate had believed that her mouth didn't remember how to do it-- that, or perhaps that it had never learned the skill in the first place. 'In service, bliss,' right? Ah, so much bliss, indeed, that you could drown in it! ...Verity had come for her, though. At the bottom of the lake she had been sleeping, deep and dark, but her princess had pulled her out. Like a tigress, she had fought, fought, fought, every step along the way, and then, when they'd both been safe? Verity had breathed air into her dead lungs, re-lit the spark in her heart. ...with her, smiling was easy, truly. Her second nature.) "I like that. It captures the nature of our unyielding spirits quite well, I've come to believe. Stumble we might, but does it stop us? No. Never. There may be times when it will take us long to rise again, but even so, we shall always do it. That is our fate." ...yes, that, and also Iskra's eventual demise. Why spoil the moment with such dark things, however? She knew, Verity did as well, and crying over it together would make as much sense as mourning each sunset. The inevitable was just that-- inevitable. Better to enjoy the brief time they could still spend together, right? The sage clad in the dying leaves had given them exactly that advice, most likely for a good reason.

"Easy it wasn't," Iskra agreed swiftly, "but good deeds are rarely easy in nature. That isn't their point at all." You know what also wasn't the point of striving to be good, though? Complaining endlessly about all the opportunities that you had missed. "I suppose that blaming myself isn't the right way to go about this, though," she sighed. "I mean, I have messed up, but how shall acknowledging that help my garden? It won't. Besides..." the pirate let out a deep breath, preparing herself for what had to be said, "...guilt may have been a part of what killed it in the first place. I was hurt, yes, but do you know the other reason I refused to go there? I was ashamed, Verity. Ashamed of myself, and of my impulses as well. In a way, I saw kissing you as a sin, whereas my being struck down was an appropriate punishment. I... I never want to fall victim to such dark thoughts again." It was lonely, you see? In that abyss where she had fallen, nobody else could reach her. Everything had been dark, dark, dark, and really, how was she to see anything but her own suffering there? She couldn't have, obviously. "Now I know that they hurt not just me, but also those around me. Those who depend on me."

Iskra half-expected to be struck by lightning upon her return, but no-- the garden welcomed her long-lost daughter eagerly, with open arms and sweet smells. "Divinities," she whispered, before placing her hand against her mouth. "I expected not such desolation. Still, I... I shan't look away. That, at least, I owe to her." The stench of death hanging in the air, overpowering their senses? It was her fault. Hers, hers, hers, and nobody else's, and... and that was why she had to fix it, somehow. (Her hands could bring death, indeed, but perhaps they could also be the messengers of life. Hadn't it happened before, countless times, when she had helped her plans thrive? With some patience, Iskra could surely do it again.)

"I can't help but think of the dandelion," she began, before kneeling down in the dirt. (It was soft, soft like a carpet, and Iskra immediately remembered why she had loved coming there so much. Could that feeling be regained, maybe? ...ah, with all her heart, the pirate hoped.) "The one from the legend, I mean. It kept dying, dying and dying, but somehow, it also found a way to cling to life. Do you think all of them are like that? I... I wish I could bring them back, the way the Shade does it for me. Well, not exactly like that, but you do know what I'm referring to, I imagine."

For the longest time, Iskra worked in silence. A lot of it was a funeral of sorts, too-- the corpses of the flowers had to be removed, but that didn't mean she wasn't going to pay them respects. Oh no, no, no! (If they buried them properly, you see, some of the life would return to the soil. With such sacrifice, it would nurture their baby sisters, and truly, wasn't that all kinds of beautiful? ...as beautiful as something like that could even get, anyway.) Tirelessly, the pirate kept tearing out the dead roots. (Each of them shattered her heart, yes, but what could one do? The endless cycles, such as those of life and death, knew no mercy.) Iskra continued, almost mechanically, when all of a sudden...!

All of a sudden, she noticed green leaves shining among the sea of orange. Could this be? Hesitantly, as if she was afraid of it being but a cruel illusion, Iskra brushed the remains aside, and... "My ivy," the pirate said, amazed. "I... I cannot believe it's so resilient. Am I dreaming, Verity, or is it indeed still alive?"

 

[starboob]

♕ PRINCESS VERITY (EXILED) ♕​

If Iskra keeps smiling as she does, Verity is certain that the garden will come back in no Time at all. For how will the seeds be able to resist the urge to rise from the soil to touch the most delicate, gentle rays of sun? She reckons that were she a flower, she would bloom far too early to meet the sun were it Iskra. "Never, ever," she agrees, making a note to remind herself that all her Life's hardships have only proven her strength. Even at her darkest moments, where she wanted to give up hope and abandon herself, that she continued on. Sometimes for reasons unknown and yet she is glad that she has persisted, for she never would have met the most dashing pirate before her.

Though when Iskra admits the other reasons she had not returned to her garden, the princess finds herself shocked and feeling sorry for the pirate. 'To be ashamed of one's own impulse? One of the most basic impulses to connect...' she muses, trying to keep her frown to herself as she knows that the hands that molded Iskra into the woman she was back then knew not how to care for the spirit. She cannot blame her for having such feelings when they had been coded into her way of being. Still, she does think it important to say something on the matter. "I shall not let you fall victim to those thoughts. Well," she says, thinking on it, "I suppose there is only so much I can do to really stop it, but if you find yourself in those dark places... Just remember your guiding star," she grins, gently kissing the pirate's forehead before she finds her own patch of the garden to work on. "And I think it also wise to remember that for all our faults, there is always room for repair should all parties be open. I mean, just look at us––when I had turned on my heel and left you after that trial... well, I thought that would be last I ever saw of the fearsome captain Iskra. The bitter part of me thought, good riddance. Yet, a part of myself I did not want to acknowledge was hopeful that we were not over and I am forever thankful our paths crossed and that we chose something better for ourselves. That we chose something honest and brave."

Verity decides to tend to garden's water feature, having missed the sound of the waterfall and sitting by the shore of the pond to compose new poems. The water had always reminded her of home, even if nothing compared to the ocean, but, well, in space this had been as close as she'd been able to get. She slips off her shoes, rolls up her pants, and removes her outershirt as she bends clear the pond. "Oh, Iskra, you brought this garden to Life once before and you shall do it again. Nature is forgiving and always has a way of coming back. I am sure that we will find, in Time, that your garden is no different." She sticks her hand into the muddy waters, pulling up dead plant matter and tossing it to the side.

Then, a silly little idea strikes her. 'I wonder if Iskra has ever had the chance to know the joy and utter frustration of having mud slung at her...' She remembers it being a fun game with her sisters and guesses Iskra may have never had the pleasure. So she collects a small gob, nothing too large, just enough to cover three fingers, and starts to make her way over to the pirate.

Just when she is a mere yard away from her target, she launches the glob and––victory! The mud smacks Iskra at the side of her neck and, admittedly, Verity had been aiming for her her shoulder, but when the pirate started addressing she released just a moment too soon. 'Oops.' That, of course, does not stop her from giggling while she rushes over to the pirate, "Apologies, my fingers just––"

"There you two are!" a familiar voice chimes and when Verity looks up? It's that curly dark haired woman they had met just before they revisited their failed trial! The one who promised them a poem, then demanded inspiration. This time she's clothed in some kind of robe that flows without there even being a breeze. Life seems to gravitate towards her, for each step that she takes closer to the couple, the ivy spreads, flowers bloom, like she somehow is calling all the greenery back. She smiles at the couple, "Ah, does it not smell most wonderful?"

"What?" the princess asks slowly, giving her a quizzical look and then looking at Iskra to see if she is on the same page or not.

"What do you mean, what? Princess, I thought you would have known being a fellow romantic! The air—it’s thick with romance. I am practically suffocating in it. State of the garden aside, of course.”

“Ah… thank you? I suppose. How did you—“

“Worry not, worry not! I have been sent here by friends across the stars, those who wish you well and wish to send you off in style.” The princess isn’t following and it’s obvious. The woman sighs and snaps her fingers. A spark ignites, then skips around the garden and each place it touches, there are bursts of Life—grass, lilacs, orchids, roses—all twist up from the ground as if they had never been dead at all! The pond is cleared and the water fall sings, lily pads gently float about. The crystal growth on the plants sparkles and twinkles under the greenhouse’s artificial sun and it’s all so sudden that Verity has to catch herself on Iskra’s shoulder lest she fall over from surprise. “Should you both agree,” the woman continues, now standing directly in front of the pair (and, Divinities, is she tall), “I am here to wed you. Why waste any more Time dancing around your desires? And what better Time than the present, my darling seekers? The goddesses and divinities alike have blessed the stars overhead in your honor, after all.”

 

[Syntra]

So it is true? Even amidst ashes, life can go on? The revelation was staggering in its power, but... it shouldn't have been, now that she thought of it. (Wasn't Iskra the same, after all? Her universe, too, had been burnt to cinder-- again and again and again, she'd watched the flames devour it, and drown it in their wrath. Yet I'm still here, the pirate realized. Alive and well. They thought me a tool, but I've outlived them all. My supposed death? Oh, that was the moment of my birth. And hey, maybe it had been the same for this ivy as well! Sort of, anyway. Before, Iskra had only seen the plant as a thing, a small piece of the larger mosaic that was her garden, but now? Now, she recognized it for what it was-- a warrior, and her soul's sister as well. Her own mirror, albeit with its reflection twisted. Ah, wasn't it beautiful, to perceive all of the connections that had been escaping her before? Blind she had been, indeed, blind and lonely, but now Iskra finally saw! ...no, she wasn't alone. She had never been that, for all things that carried the spark of life within themselves struggled. Wasn't that the very definition of existence? Striving, striving and striving, despite it all?) "Verity," Iskra turned around. "Verity, my dear, I think I finally understand now. I was never an aberration. My suffering didn't make me..." ...oof. Yeah, that had interrupted her train of thought, alright. A handful of mud dripping down one's neck tended to do just that! And the culprit... the culprit was her princess, heartbreakingly enough.

The impact wasn't painful, of course, but the way Iskra stared at Verity? One might have thought she had just shot her, or perhaps murdered her beloved puppy. "My star," she gave her a wounded look, "have I displeased you? How have I managed to earn your ire? I blame you not, but please, do tell me where I stumbled. I... these things are still new to me. How am I to walk this path when I know not where my steps will lead?" 'That's why you're inadequate,' her old insecurities said. 'The reason why you shall never be enough for her. How can an empty woman make another whole? You're a desert, dead and barren-- never shall you satisfy anyone's thirst.' So, yes, Iskra could still hear that voice. The main thing about it, though? It was distant, wrapped in fog, and the pirate could ignore it easily. Oh no, no longer would it define her entire worth! She had her own mouth, you see, and with it, she could ask questions. Communication worked wonders, didn't it? And... and for Verity, the pirate would try. "I do not wish to lose you if it can be helped. So, tell me what your issue is? I promise, I shall do my best to amend my wicked ways. Whatever it is, I shall not judge you."

...of course, the moment was too beautiful to last. Out of thin air, the woman from before appeared-- Iskra didn't remember sending out an invitation, but here she was. "How did you know where to find us?" the pirate demanded.

"Oh, don't be silly," the poet waved her hand, as if the question couldn't possibly be more ridiculous. "How could I not find you? Even if I tried to avoid you, I couldn't. Your feelings are a beacon in the darkness, stronger than Polaris herself. Truly, it helps the wanderers find their way!" ...not that Iskra understood any of that, mind you, but she was able to deduce, at least, the woman meant them no harm. Oh well, she sighed. The ancient law demands that we welcome our guests with open hearts, doesn't it?

Even so, the thing that she said next still sent a jolt down Iskra's spine. Ah, hell, had the pirate been drinking, she would have spat the liquid right into the woman's face! "Get married? Myself? I cannot get married. It is not meant for me. I'm just... just..." A woman, with her own desires and needs. A soul that had finally found her harbor, within another woman's arms. Was it such a terrible thing, indeed, to promise herself to her? The vows they had exchanged that fateful night had been as binding as any marriage, even without witnesses. Why pretend to be so afraid of commitment, then? Of the red string that tied them together? (On some level, Iskra felt, she had always belonged to her. From the very first time her eyes had landed on the princess, she had known, and... yes, there was no need for further words. Convenient as they were, they were also limited in their scope, you know? So, so inadequate in describing the passion blooming in her heart! ...the flowers that rose to life around them might have captured exactly that, though. Ah, what a miraculous night! Perhaps miraculous enough for me to pull off the impossible, too.)

Silently, the pirate dropped to her knees. (Her hands were shaking, but despite that? Despite that, she did not look away. The eyes were the seat of the soul, you see, and right now, Iskra needed the princess to see all of it.) "I am sorry, Verity, that I know not your wedding rites. I... I should have researched them sooner. I'm also sorry that I was not able to honor you in the same way my ancestors did, back when they wished to ask for a woman's hand in marriage. Regardless, will you be my wife? I have nothing to offer but myself, but I swear, you shall have me in my entirety. Now and always, for as long as I breathe."