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saidelia-draconis · 1 year

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Acceptance

Saidelia drew in a deep, sharp breath, exhaling slowly as she opened her eyes. She stared blearily at the wall, scratching the crust from the corners of her eye and blinking back the stiffness clouding her eyelids. She slid out of bed in her smallclothes, shrugging her shoulders into her tunic and leaving the room.

She met the Kyrian in his sitting room, gesturing to a small table of prepared meats, cheeses, and fruits. Wordlessly, the two sat down to breakfast, eating in silence and occasionally passing glances. By the time they had finished, they were left with a wistful moment of contemplation, each gazing out the same window at the landscape.

Finally, their eyes met. Saidelia flashed him a ghost of a grin. He smirked at her in turn. "Awkward silences, am I right? Guess there's not much left to be said."

She rattled out a quiet laugh, leaning forward to push herself up to her feet. "I've been thinking about what you said since last night. You were right. It might not be the ending I wanted. But I think it's what's best. I think it's still time for me to go."

Xipheles effortlessly rose to his feet, regarding her with a warm, hospitable. "I'm glad we're parting on these terms. Call it a final act of selfishness, but if you'd have me, I'd like to see you off. I'll help you into your armor."

Saidelia nodded, turning towards Xipheles and wrapping her arms around him. In turn, his arms encircled her to rest on her shoulders. He held her for a long while, all of her scars, flaws, and imperfections under his fingertips. When he finally let go, she meticulously donned her armor, encasing them beneath cold steel.

The pair walked down the way, exchanging light conversation and gentle reminiscence. At the edge of the town, the two sat at a bench, chatting a while longer. Each time one bade the other farewell, another tangent cropped up, the two continuing to chat. Their idle chatter was suddenly interrupted by a rather stern-looking kyrian whose wings furled as he drew closer. He stood at attention in front of the two, saluting.

"Xipheles. You are needed at the temple. In light of... recent events, there are aspirants that the polemarch has seen fit to entrust to you." He nodded, somewhat plainly indicating Saidelia.

Xipheles turned to Saidelia, flashing that vivacious smile she'd recognize no matter who wore it. "I'm afraid this is where our time ends, Dame Draconis. It was always a pleasure. Thank you for everything. I'm stronger for having known you. No matter what happens. Don't forget to live a little. For the both of us. Who knows, maybe we'll meet again someday."

Saidelia straightened up, hesitating for a moment before drawing the Kyrian in for a heartfelt embrace, enough to make the man grunt as he was squeezed. "Thank you so much, Xipheles. I'll never forget you and I'll always be thankful to you for your part in my life; no matter how short. If I never see you again, I'm better for having known you." "And I, you. Take care."

Saidelia continued alone down the path, mounting her steed and passing fields of gold. The serene landscape passed by in a peaceful silence, giving her time to reflect on her stay. She left with an odd sense of peace that seemed foreign after so many years. Once the road ended, the paladin found herself at the grand entryway to Bastion, dismounting and passing back through the gates she had left through so long ago.

Saidelia wandered through the promenade, surrounded by incoming souls and dutiful kyrians with their stewards. She stopped at a small reflecting pool. The Kyrian tending the pool regarded her warmly, gesturing towards the small dais. "Welcome. This is where fresh aspirants reflect upon their time in the world and are cleansed of their doubts. Would you like to meditate for a while?"

Saidelia scowled softly, studying the woman for a few moments before a dim spark of recognition reached her. She slowly ascended the steps and cast her gaze from the pool to the other woman. "Hiossa?"

The kyrian smiled warmly, nodding as she appraised Saidelia. "Indeed. I'm afraid I don't quite remember you, friend. I meet quite a few people, as you can imagine. It is a pleasure to see you again nevertheless."

The paladin chuckled sheepishly, recalling their last encounter and clearing her throat. "I'm, uh, Saidelia I tried your... trial a little while ago. It's, um, good to see you again."

She chuckled quietly, stroking her chin for a moment as she mulled the name over. Eventually, her eyes widened, and she nodded. "Oh, Saidelia. I think I remember you. You tried the meditation once before if I recall correctly." She uttered a soft, thoughtful hum. "Are you here to try again?

Saidelia bit her lip as she eyed the waters. They appeared less tumultuous than last time. What was once a roiling current had settled to a still, tranquil surface. "I think I'd like that. Thank you."

#Timeskip #Writing

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saidelia-draconis · 1 year

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Depression

The evenings in Bastion had an odd, serene quality to them. Familiar, yet not at the same time. A cascade of stars shone above, seeming to twinkle when they were observed and seeming to disappear the moment one looked back at the ground.

Saidelia steeled herself, approaching the door to the unassuming abode with the trepidation of someone walking through a minefield. Still, she seemed determined, hesitating only for a moment before gently rapping a gauntlet against the door.

The kyrian who answered regarded her with a quiet look of polite exhaustion. Eventually, he opened the door, waiting in silence.

"Hey, uh, Xipheles. I've thought about what you said. I think it would be best if I were to leave tomorrow morning. I'm sorry for... everything, I suppose. Before and after all this. It wasn't right of me to intrude the way I did."

Xipheles was silent for a few moments, letting Saidelia's apology linger. Finally, he let out a quiet sigh, reaching out for her hand on the doorframe. "Actually Saidelia, I'm the one who's sorry. Please, come in."

Saidelia crossed the threshold, holding onto a vague sense of discomfort that their clash had sparked. As she sat on a floor pillow, he passed her a small cup, filling it from a cask. It bubbled like champagne. He flashed her a ghost of that little smirk she used to remember, pouring himself some as well.

"Don't worry, I remember you don't drink. I wanted to talk about the other day. To let you know how rotten I feel about leaving things like that. I've been struggling with your sudden reappearance has been difficult for me. It dredges up some pretty painful memories that I don't know how to deal with. That maybe I'm not equipped to deal with, if that makes sense. As opposed to my memories, I can't just will you back into my head by ringing a bell. It's a new experience for me as a kyrian. I've been taking it out on you, which isn't fair."

Saidelia stared down at the table, dumbstruck. She swallowed hard, her fingers tingling as she took a sip from the cup, hardly tasting it. The two sat in silence for what felt like an eternity. It wasn't until she felt soft fingers on her chin that she remembered she wasn't alone. Xipheles gently pitched her head up, forcing eye contact with a nervous smile.

"Saidelia, please. Say something." His voice trailed off nervously. "This isn't any easier for me." She felt tears glide down her cheeks in fat rivulets as she looked into the kyrian's eyes, letting out a low whine as she attempted to speak. She looked away, dabbing at her eyes and clearing her throat. After a long, agonizing moment, she turned to face him.

"I'm sorry. I'm-- I'm sorry. Fuck, I'm so sorry. I don't get what you're talking about. I know you're going through it. I've seen it those times you let me watch you meditate, but I just don't get it. I don't know what it's like. All the times I watch you, you're reliving our old memories. And yeah, a lot of them suck, but it's all we have."

Saidelia sighed, drying her eyes again and draining the cup she was given. Xipheles remained silent, refilling it for her and listening. "And I know this sounds fucked up as the one who made it out, but those are the memories I miss. All I do is relive them. I sit in my shit apartment, surrounded by all of our old stuff and I think about how things used to feel okay. Before... before everything changed. When I used to be somebody. When I used to do something that I cared about. With people that I cared about. With people who cared about me. All I want to do is be a part of those memories again."

Xipheles nodded understandingly, taking a draught from his cup as he listened patiently. Despite his discomfort, he smiled stiffly, letting her finish before he leaned forward, keeping that placid gaze.

"Have you considered that it might be because you haven't moved on from those days? Aside from coming here for me, I haven't heard you talk about much else. You seem to want to talk about how things were back in the Crusade. Most of your recent life has been living in Stormwind. Have you done anything since?"

Saidelia sighed heavily, taking a small sip as she reflected. She briefly reflected before shaking her head. "No. I haven't. I miss feeling useful. I miss having a purpose. Ever since I left the Crusade--"

"Forget the Crusade, Saidelia. You don't need a banner to do good. Just do what you can. There is always the next calamity to throw your weight behind. You have to keep moving." "But I don't know how. How do I keep moving, how did you get used to all these changes?

"Grieve. Just grieve. Instead of turning your pain into some wild quest, allow yourself to experience what you're feeling. You can't live your life as a monument to me, or Syler, or Halveth and Alvarez, or your grandparents, or anyone else you lost, Saidelia. You still have your own life ahead of you. Visit the headstone I have, cry at it if you need to. Have a picnic in the park with that cheese I used to like. The, uh, what was it? Alterac Swiss?"

Saidelia's downcast expression reluctantly turned upwards to regard the kyrian, her teary eyes shining for a moment. "I fucking hated that cheese."

Xipheles stopped short for a moment. She glanced up at him, sniffling softly. Xipheles suddenly belted out a deep, rolling laugh. The laugh that she used to hear often. He stood up, crossing the distance between them and throwing his arm over her. She leaned against him, putting her head on his shoulder. "I'm afraid I can't help you there. Maybe a nice cheddar? Give yourself time to help yourself and when you're ready, start helping others. You don't have to forget any of us if you don't want to, but bottling everything up for the sake of strength only hurts you. Eventually, you'll remember why you do this."

Saidelia stared down at the small table, an arm around the kyrian's waist as she relished the touch. Oddly familiar, yet somehow not. "What about you? Don't you ever think about how things used to be?"

"Of course I do. Sometimes I think about what might have. If things were different. But they're not. Honestly, I don't like dwelling as much on those days. But It's over. It has to be over. It reminds me of how much of a coward I used to be. "

"You were anything but Cowardly, Sam. I remember how kind you were. How generous. How much you cared for those around you. In a bleak place like that, you had the strength to care. Being shitty doesn't make you strong. Being an inspiration does. You're one of the strongest people I know, Sa- Xipheles. I'm honored to know you. To have known you."

Xipheles smiled weakly, giving her a gentle squeeze on the shoulder as he stood up. He dabbed at his eyes, sighing softly as he cleaned the table that the two had been sitting at. She stood, watching him nervously, waiting for the other shoe to drop. He embraced her silently, sighing quietly. After a long silence, the two parted, each wiping their eyes.

"You can take my bed tonight, Saidelia. It's the least I can do for you after all you've done for me through this... ordeal. Thank you. For everything. I love you. I always have. I always will."

"I love you too."

#Timeskip #Writing

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saidelia-draconis · 1 year

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Bargaining

Days had passed into weeks, months, or could it have even been years? Time seemed to move differently now. It was nigh impossible to tell. Occasionally, Saidelia would recall fragments of the life she was avoiding before setting them aside. It felt so easy, to tell herself that this was the life she wanted to live. Despite how odd it felt. Bastion felt unfamiliar, no matter how many times she watched that facsimile of a sunrise. The warmth it brought felt artificial.

Xipheles felt similarly foreign, no matter how well she knew him. The carefree and jubilant youth had grown reserved, even distant at times. He no longer showed the same merriment, tending towards gloomy stoicism. Still, the two talked daily. Despite it feeling more detached, Saidelia continued to haunt him. She found the kyrian sitting at the edge of a gentle brook, watching the water cascade down the way. She sat down next to him, smiling softly and laying a hand on his shoulder.

"Hey, Sam. I thought I might find you here."

Xipheles cast a short glance back at her, offering her a short smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Saidelia. It's... good to see you. How has your day been?"

Saidelia smiled back, offering him a small helping of her lunch; bread, cheese, and some fruits that she wasn't familiar with. He took a small helping, turning his attention back to the brook.

"Thank you. So you mentioned that you've decided to stick around for a while longer. What plans do you have while you're here?"

Saidelia chuckled quietly, taking a bite of her half of the bread and watching the brook. "Well, I hadn't quite figured that out yet. I know at some point I need to get things in order, but it's nice to kind of... get away from everything, you know?"

Xipheles pursed his lips, scowling at the rushing waters as he parsed Saidelia's question. "Not particularly, I'm afraid. I'm not exactly here by choice."

Saidelia nodded softly, realizing the bite of her question a little too late after it had left her mouth. It had been a point of contention between the two. A wound left festering a little too long. She cast a pitying gaze at the kyrian's back, offering her hand to him. He took it, smiling weakly as age squeezed.

"I'm Sorry, I didn't mean it like that."

"I know what you meant. All the same, I'm at least glad you're finding some peace. It seems as though the past few years have been hard for you."

She chuckled, leaning against his shoulder, trying to remain subtle while chipping away at the kyrian's guard. "Things have been... up and down. Maybe a little more down than I would like. But what about you? You don't seem to talk much about your new life?"

Xipheles prickled, his jaw clenching almost imperceptibly. "There's not much to talk about. Moreover, it's less interesting than it is humbling. It isn't so much new as it is recontextualizing old memories. For instance, do you remember what you saw when we first met?"

"Yeah?"

"It's similar. Not always quite so dramatic. But for example, where I used to hate Sir Dominicus because I thought he was judging me harshly, I see his point." He gestured around to the rolling hills of Bastion. "He was even mostly right about the end, save for a few details. So now, instead of hating him, I'm grateful to him."

Saidelia stared longingly at the pensive face of the man she used to know for a long while, finally speaking after the moment had passed. "I see... I think. I suppose I kind of get it."

Xipheles nodded stiffly, seeming at a loss for conversation. "So what's happened since I... you know, left."

"Uh... shit. Nothing, to be honest. Oh, get this. Sayyid owns a fucking inn now. He has a girl with Emily. Anjali, if I remember right. Sweet kid."

"I could see that. Faruq knew how to talk to people. Had that warm smile and easygoing charm. Caring, too. I'm glad he and Emily got out and had the life they wanted. What about Halveth and Alvarez? Did he ever make it after our last mission?"

"No, died a few days after you. Infection, they told us."

He smirked, rubbing his chin. "Figures. And of course, I was a fool to the last. Dying trying to protect him." A wry chuckle escaped his lips.

Saidelia frowned, gently squeezing his hand as he turned to face her. She regarded him with sad, longing eyes. "You were never a fool, Sam. Little naive, maybe, but no more so than I was back then. You saw that our friend was in trouble, and you tried to help him. Any one of us would have done the same."

The cynical glower that Saidelia had come to expect from Xipheles slowly faded. She started to recognize a genuine smile, one that the vibrant young man she knew always wore. She leaned forward, pressing her lips against his. It was all that she had expected, all that she had hoped for. For a few seconds, everything seemed to feel the way it used to. Until she felt hands on her shoulders, roughly pushing her away. Xipheles scowled reproachfully at her.

When he spoke, his voice finally seemed to convey an emotion. Irritation. "Saidelia, what are you doing?"

Saidelia stumbled backward, falling onto her back and gazing confusedly up at the kyrian who regarded her coldly. She felt a sharp spasm of panic in her gut that ran through her like a bullet. despite her reticence, she slowly sat up, a concerned scowl replacing the once-adulating gaze. "What do you mean?"

He sighed, a glimmer of despair in his eyes as he regarded her with that steely, unfamiliar look. His voice seemed to catch in his throat the first time to speak. Nevertheless, he pushed forward, maintaining his steely demeanor. "Please, Saidelia. Don't do this. Don't make it harder than it has to be. You know what I mean. This could never work between us. This fleeting notion that we still have a future together."

Saidelia seemed worried when she spoke. As if the notion had never occurred to her. "What do you mean we can't have a future together?"

Xipheles closed his eyes, running a thumb over one of his temples as he sighed softly. A measure of strained patience. When he finally stared back at Saidelia, he shook his head. "Of course not, Saidelia. Look, I understand we told each other it was forever when we were young, foolish, and critically - both alive - but how could it? We've been apart for years. I'm not even human anymore. Even if I wanted to make things work, what could we do? You can't live here, and I can't leave. I'm sorry."

"You Promised!"

"I know."

"So that's it then? You promised, and I'm left on my own?"

"Don't you dare presume that it doesn't weigh on me, Saidelia. What am I to do, tender my resignation with the polemarch? Wash the blue off of my skin and go back to being human? What could you have possibly thought would happen? That I would somehow leave here with you? If that's even possible? That I would go back home with you and everything would go back to the way it was... what, how many years ago? I can't be Samuel Couseland. Every time I close my eyes, I remember all of his misgivings, his blunders, and his failures. I can't exist like this anymore."

Saidelia stammered, nearly tripping over her words as she tried to come up with a solution. "We can still make it work, Sam. I can visit you on weekends. You can visit me on trips to Azeroth. We can find some way to be together. Please. I can't be alone anymore. I can't be alone anymore. I need you."

Xipheles held firm, steeling himself as he shook his head. "No. Saidelia, listen to yourself. You're clinging to a ghost. You keep calling me Sam. I'm not even Sam anymore. Every memory I have of us is haunted by what we endured. I'm not strong like you are. I can't let you hold onto me as an effigy of the life that could have been. I want you to cry, I want you to scream, I want you to curse fate; to wail that this isn't fair. But most of all, I want you to move on. I want to be a fond memory that you leave in the past. One that you can smile at on a Sunday afternoon. Because I can't be who I was before, and I can't let you continue to wrap your pain in duty and sanctimony. I need you to put me to rest. For both of us. Please... please."

Saidelia drew back, her voice flecked with emotion as she spoke, turning away. "Very well. It was nice meeting you, Xipheles. Thank you for the time we shared. I'll leave you be if that's what you want."

Before the kyrian got a chance to speak, Saidelia marched away from him, leaving him in the distance as he desperately called back to her. "Saidelia, wait!" She remained undeterred, dabbing at her eyes as she fled from his sight.

#Timeskip #Writing

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saidelia-draconis · 1 year

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Anger

Northbound on the opalescent path, Saidelia paused for a few nights to rest at a monastery, serving as a waystation for travelers. The food was admittedly middling, and the beds were harder than she would have expected. Though it was unlikely anyone had ever thought it would serve mortals and their creature comforts.

She rose from the stiff, straw bed, dressing and donning her armor before departing with her rucksack tucked handily underneath her cloak. Outside her room, whatever took the place of a sun was starting to shine. The golden rays and gentle warmth that spread across her face added a quiet tranquility that seemed to escape her daily life.

After breakfast, Saidelia departed from the living quarters, hurrying through the courtyard of aspirants in various stages of acclimation to their new lives. Such as they were. As she stopped to watch, she recognized a familiar face. A stern, solid man in his forties and jet-black hair with a hand on the shoulder of an aspirant. The two seemed in the middle of a conversation. The Kyrian man seemed stuporous, merely acting out the motions of his memory. Beyond him was a winged kyrian woman watching his trial. The pair sat in the mirage of a tavern, lazily sipping from mugs. The older knight had just ordered the two another round, and it seemed that the pleasantries had ceased.

"Listen, son. I understand where you're coming from, and how you feel. Believe me. It wasn't too long ago that I was a little like you. For what it's worth, I think you're a good enough kid. And if things were different, I wouldn't be coming down hard on you. I get that you're some hotshot noble's spawn, but this isn't a gala, and neither of you are doing each other any favors playing puppy love."

"Yes sir. I understand, but--"

"No, you don't understand. This isn't some place you can wag your dick around, damn the consequences. This is fucking Northrend. I know you catch a break from some of the higher-ups who are trying to catch a break on supplies or pick up cushy gigs on the mainland, but I'm not one of these shitheads you can bat those eyelashes at and write to daddy about. The girl's got a lot on her plate, and you and your honeyed words and coiffed hair are a distraction. You picking up what I'm putting down?"

"You don't understand, Sir Dominicus, I love her."

"Love? Fucking love? Kid, you have known each other for three months. What the fuck are you on about love? Both of you need to pull your heads out of your ass and wise up. The dead are howling at the walls with great big talons made out of bone that'll rip through your coat as easy as they rip through your belly. And she'll see all that. You? You'll be okay. You're here because your father wants you here. It puts a certain prestige on the Couseland name. What you and your father play? It's chess for shitheads. He pops you into the fire of war, but you don't serve. You spend your time as a bookkeeper. Maybe a field medic in the infirmary if you're brave. Then after a year - maybe a few months if your dad's real important - of fiddlefucking around, you're a sitting officer who couldn't tell me the difference between a ghoul and a geist. We're going to be lucky if everyone back home makes it out the other end of this alive. Guttersnipes like me and her? Here? Up north? The only difference between her and those shambling corpses is about thirty seconds. Neither of you need to plan for the future yet, and I don't want her getting fanciful notions of your grandeur." To add insult to injury, the man extends his pinky with a flourish

"So what, is she supposed to just supposed to fight, die, and rot? What's the point of trying to plan for a better life if this is all there is?"

"Yes. That's exactly what she'll do. Kid, this is life. This is the height of honors for some bumblefuck commoner. Those colors she plans on getting? They're a death sentence. You think if every asshole who got a title lived to tell about it, the balance of power would stay the same? Do you really think the scales aren't weighted? Couseland doesn't mean something on accident. Years ago, your great-whatever-grandfather cast his die and the crown decided he was enough of a sycophant to keep around. The difference between me and you? Your father is smart. He plays the game well. You think Dominicus didn't used to carry prestige? Folks used to quake in their boots when they heard it. Every name you've heard more than twice used to belong to a great house. The difference between me and you is that my father wasn't as smart as the other assholes in the room. He got a knife in the belly, and I was too young and idealistic to play the great game. Now I don't have the luxury of a future. I scrape by with my knuckles, hoping that I'm eventually either old or battered enough to earn one of those mythical armsmen's pensions soldiers tell themselves they'll get one day. Same as the girl. And you'd do well to keep her mind clear while she's out there. Fighting for that better world that you high society types get to enjoy."

The kyrian puffed up, mimicking the actions he took in life, finally pushed to stand up for himself. By now he was brimming with rage, staring up at a man who seemed almost taller in memory, and a good deal more imposing.

"Is that all you think of me? Like I'm some opportunist trying to swindle her out of her youth and innocence? A monster who's going to leave her dead, or an old spinster? As if I don't have any semblance of humanity? I love her, Syler. You may think that she's some scheme in my tangled web. Do you have any idea why I'm even here? I signed up for the Crusade. My father didn't push me into it, I came here because I care about what's happening to our world. I-- fuck, I want to help people. Because I have enough conviction to care about making the world a better place, as opposed to the doom and gloom you peddle. At least I stand for something."

The older man finally broke, uttering a guffaw as though it had struck him in the gut. He stared contemptuously down at the kyrian who now wore a different face in death. Saidelia watched captively, feeling an oddly voyeuristic curiosity as the two relived a conversation from years past. Finally, the knight looked up into the sky, drawing a deep, strained breath.

"You just don't get it, do you? I'm giving this talk because I used to be you. You know what? I will humor you. Walk me through how this goes. In our wildest dreams, you and Saidelia are alive, we win this war, and the Lich King is defeated. All this business is wrapped up and we even get cocoa made for us by Fordring himself. Now what? What are your next steps?"

The young kyrian's face contorted into a sneer, just as it did years ago. He was almost brimming with derision when he spoke. His plan was so plain, so simple, and yet he could not impress it upon the knight several decades his senior.

"Well, then I would marry her. I'd be able to work for my father. And she... well, she could do whatever she wanted."

"Sure. I follow you so far. And in a perfect world, you could both live vibrant and fulfilling lives. Meanwhile, in reality, a man of your stature would be shunned by polite society if word of your tryst, let alone a public wedding were to take place. Look at it from your parents' point of view. A young, promising noble besotted with a commoner?"

"She isn't a commoner. She told me about her grandfather. He was a general in the first war."

"Kid, I've met her father. Or at least that booze-pickled, shit-shoveling excuse of a man who knocked up her mother. Whatever money, power, and stature the Draconis name used to carry either burned when Stormwind did, or he drank it away. Including the pot he used to piss in. Now your family. You got brothers, sisters?"

"Three older sisters, one older brother."

"Right. So an inheritance split five ways. You're already getting far less than a fifth. You're the baby. Your parents see you without teeth, and all this poetic babble about what's good and right might be enough on its own for them to give you little more than a pittance. Not to mention your siblings. If they see you as harmless enough, they might even see fit to do you in themselves. After all, if they slip some cutpurse a few lousy gold, they get to keep your share. Return on investment, I believe they call it in the business."

The Kyrian opened his mouth to protest, only to be shut down with a wave of the knight's hand.

"Yes, yes. They're family, they love you, and they would never do that to you. It's not what your parents would have wanted. Believe me, I had the same thoughts when I was your age. You may not get it now. You may even hate me for it, but I'm trying to help you. In time maybe you'll realize that."

With a bit of careful maneuvering, the knight managed to pull part of his surcoat back, exposing a deep scar in the recess between his clavicle and neck. The kyrian gazed at it curiously, his eyes widening.

"No really, I had the same exact thoughts," he repeated, sounding almost forlorn. "It may not seem like it, son, but I am trying to help you. Just as much as I'm trying to protect her. You may not get it now. You may even hate me for it, but in time maybe you'll realize that. I don't hate you. I don't even think you're a shit person. But it'd do you well to smarten up and think with something other than your heart." He patted the kyrian on the shoulder. "Oh and kid?"

"Yes sir?" That last word carried a venom it hadn't previously "If you ever call me Syler again, I will skin you and line my boots with your hide. Now finish your pint and scram, yeah?"

The solemnity of the shade of Slyer Dominicus' words echoed in the silence. The man started to fade from view as the young kyrian's witness struck a vesper several times, reawakening the mand as the scene around him started to fade. Her voice was soft and cool, like gentle water running over him as he awoke. She set down her mallet, sitting with him and placing a hand on his.

"This memory seems to trouble you, Xipheles. I understand your trepidation. You have revisited it many times, and may yet many more. Please, I would have you speak of your troubles, so that we may resolve them. What perspective have you gained this time?"

Saidelia stood back, hesitant to interrupt the pair in the middle of their ritual. The younger Kyrian, apparently named Xipheles finally spoke. His voice sounded different. Still soft and melodic, yet it carried an aged quality that Saidelia didn't recognize in him.

"I... I don't understand. I know that I am not at peace with my memory, and yet I don't know why I am not at peace. I have witnessed it so many times. At first, I hated him. I hated the way he made me feel small, the way he assumed he could just assume how I felt and dictate it to me. I don't feel that anger anymore. I feel..."

"What is it you feel, Xipheles?"

"Pity?" He scowled, hardly believing the word himself. "I feel bad for him. His worldview was so narrow. As if he never had a choice in life; or at least, was never free of the choices he made. In life, I was convinced he was an asshole, but I guess I didn't understand that he was hurt too."

The kyrian woman smiled, soft and serene. "Empathy is far and away one of our most important tools as kyrians. The ability to understand what causes someone to take the actions that they take, and to see how the consequences shape them. Now, I would like to try one more meditation, if you would be so kind as to meditate one last time for today."

Xipheles nodded, slowly standing and closing his eyes once again, delving into that trancelike state. Strands of thin, wispy anima sprung from him, taking form. A row of howling ghouls began to charge. Opposite, an eerily familiar face that Saidelia recognized. Her own. In a line with her companions. Laying beside Xipheles was a wounded mage whom Saidelia remembered as Alvarez, whimpering piteously in a bloodstained robe. As the ranks of the undead drew closer, Xipheles seemed visibly horrified. He stammered out various incantations, hoping to stem the tide of horrors closing in on them. Saidelia felt a rush of panic, despite knowing the end of the memory. She leaped forward, taking the mallet and striking the vesper. Over and over as she desperately tried to dispel the ghouls. When she finished, panting and letting the mallet drop to the ground, the two kyrians looked on with shock and confusion. The elder of the two turned uncertainly towards Xipheles.

"I must consult with the archon. I am uncertain how to proceed," she stammered before taking flight and leaving the two to converse. Xipheles stared dumbfounded at the woman he used to know, still mentally piecing together the scene. She looked so real and yet so different from the paladin he remembered. She was older, haunted, and weathered.

"Saidelia?"

"Sam?"

#Timeskip #Writing

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saidelia-draconis · 1 year

Text

Denial

Passing through the phantasmagoria the horizon shot into view. A serene slope of rolling golden hills and pearlescent crags. The journey abruptly ended through gates that slowly tapered until she was able to dismount. The shimmering creature that the woman had ridden in on flashed a grin with its ethereal maw before returning to the circuit that bore it leaving Saidelia standing at the entrance.

Bastion, to the amphitheater bustling with constructs, and the kyrians with cherubic faces and eerily vacant gazes. Polite, friendly, and oddly haunting. At the hem of her cloak, she felt an incessant pull. Looking down to see a feathered steward, its cheery, shrill tone ringing in her ears.

"New face! You go, yes yes!"

Saidelia smiled down at the cherubic little steward with vague discomfort before heeding its advice and approaching an intimidating yet docile automaton that spoke to her in a cool, soothing voice that seemed to put her at ease

"Welcome to Bastion, friend. I would take a moment to sympathize with you on the end of your life. Please rest assured that all of your burdens can safely be laid to rest. I am pleased to welcome you to--"

"No, no, excuse me. Not dead. I'm looking for--"

"The loss of life can be abrupt, and it is my job to ensure that your passing is as peaceful as--"

"No, I'm not dead. Can I speak with someone around here, please?"

The greeter regarded Saidelia with its featureless face for a few moments before one of the nearby Kyrians approached her. Her face was soft and reasonably untroubled. Behind her rested a coil of luminous wings. She gracefully extended a hand to Saidelia as she approached, standing at a distance.

"Hello, welcome to Bastion. My name is Hiossa, I am one of the ascended. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Who might you be?"

"I'm Saidelia Draconis. Your uh... golem-thing thinks I'm dead.

"Oh. You must be from Oribos. Yes, sorry, our greeter doesn't have a protocol for your, uh, particular circumstance. If you come with me, we would like to ensure that your kind understand our ways before proceeding further. Some of them are... slightly unnerving, especially for someone who hasn't quite reached the end of their life. I will be here to guide you."

She beckoned in a calm, flowing motion for Saidelia to follow. As the two walked, Hiossa hummed serenely, a tune that seemed to reverberate around the valley that grew stronger each time they passed a vesper. The two stopped at a desk with a long curl of parchment whose length neither of the two could fully comprehend.

"Normally new aspirants sign their old names here. A sort of end as well as a new beginning. We have parchment here for your kind as well. Maybe someday you'll sign both."

Saidelia took the quill uncertainly. She stared down at the paper, scratching her name in the margins with what some might call a literal interpretation of the word. She stared nervously up at Hiossa who read the name with a chuckle. A faux pas the realized a moment too late, bringing a hand to her mouth.

"Sedela Drokonas. Well, rest assured you aren't being scored for your performance. I apologize for my lack of tact, I certainly wasn't expecting to see that."

Saidelia felt a pang of anger that seemed to stall before it could take hold as the thrum of the vesper rang throughout the valley. Before she could say anything, she was ushered along the winding path on the outskirts of the grounds. Her Kyrian companion seemed untroubled, strolling at an unhurried pace that grated on Saidelia.

At last, the pair arrived at one of the vespers. A tall, megalithic structure in the shape of a bell. Despite its appearance, it was a solid stone. Resting on a ceremonial pillow lay an ornate mallet of similar design. Saidelia stared down at the mallet, understanding the concept yet feeling hesitant. She stared back up at the Kyrian for guidance. Hiossa watched on with a satisfied smirk.

"Go on. Take a whack at it. I promise it won't break."

Saidelia took a deep breath as she stooped, bracing to heft the mallet. While it was heavy, it seemed heavy less in a physical sense than it did shaking off hesitation that lingered. After finally hefting the mallet, Saidelia drove it into the bottom flare of the bell.

The vesper remained motionless, though Saidelia felt its powerful thrum. Rather than the toll she would have expected, the resonance that came seemed to emanate from the inside of her skull outwards. It felt more frantic than the soft pulsing that she heard throughout the valley. Not quite soothing, yet not altogether an unpleasant experience.

She stood staring at the vesper, trying to decipher its purpose. She felt oddly clearheaded, able to see beyond herself and her own goals. Almost able to peer into the inner workings of this strange land. Almost. As she set the mallet down, a grinning Hiossa regarded her as she pushed herself back to her feet.

"Feels odd the first few times you hit it, I'm told. I've been here so long I don't remember. There's a sermon for new arrivals to help them acclimate, but since you don't need to make your peace with death, we'll walk to the last one. This one is likely the most challenging. I have faith that you'll make it through."

The pair arrived after another long jaunt to a quiet pool of still water. Despite being shallow in depth, it almost perfectly reflected the sky above them. Soft and serene as it was, Hiossa straightened up, regarding the pool with caution.

"This is our pool of reflecting. In a quite literal sense. It is where we examine the life you lived, and how you feel about it. I will warn you that it is an arduous thing to set your burdens aside. Even more so in your case when everything is more... recent. Walk slowly, and take time to consider your time spent."

Saidelia approached the pool confidently, taking the first few steps until her boots grew damp. Visions swam before her of her life gone by. She remembered her childhood; the fear and helplessness she felt. In the same breath, she remembered the wastes of Northrend, the sneering, toothy faces of howling ghouls, and fresh blood on pure snow.

The world around her felt grim and claustrophobic. She felt the breath rising in her chest only to grow heavy, too heavy to exhale. Her vision swam as she heard screams and desperate whimpers, begging for help. She felt fetid arms around her, clawing at her chest, searching frantically for her pounding heart. She felt the horrific visions that blurred reality from her mind, the daunting voice of eons ago.

When she opened her eyes, she realized the arms belonged to Hiossa, who had dragged her from the pool, looking down at the paladin who had fallen at some point. She couldn't remember. While appearing concerned, the Kyrian moved deftly, draping a cool cloth over the paladin. She gently folded Saidelia's arms over her midriff, cooing softly to her.

"There there. It's alright. You're not really there. You're safe. I promise. When you feel up to it, we can try again."

A pang of real fear coursed through the paladin who tried to sit up, only to be gently pushed back to the ground by the Kyrian.

"Please, no more! I can't-- I couldn't--"

"Saidelia, it's normal to feel the way you feel. Especially with a life like yours. We can try as many times as you need."

"Please," Saidelia pleaded in a strangled whimper.

"I suppose if you're not ascending, it isn't strictly necessary. Very well. When you feel ready, we can consider your induction to Bastion complete. Take a few minutes to calm yourself and we can get you on your way."

Over the course of a few minutes, Saidelia slowly regained her faculties, sitting, feeling the cold sweat glide down her back, making her shudder. When she finally got to her feet, she was guided by Hiossa to a cliff, split only by a narrow cleft that lead to the rolling fields of gold. Hiossa smiled sadly, nodding to Saidelia.

"I'm afraid this is where we part ways. When you find yourself back here, I would like to see you again. It was a pleasure knowing you."

"Thank you, you too. If it's not too much trouble, I was hoping you might be able to help me find someone."

"Your people have a shelter set up Hero's Rest. They should be able to direct you to your companions. If you follow the road north, you won't miss it."

"It's not someone I came here with. Have you ever heard the name Couseland?"

A knowing look crossed Hiossa's face. Her lips pursed, and her tone grew austere.

"I've seen this phenomenon a few times since your people started coming to Bastion. Saidelia, I warn you not to attempt this. The outcome is not what you think it will be. It is not for you and I to unearth the past."

"Very well. Thank you for your time, at least."

Saidelia drew herself up, marching northwards.

#Timeskip #Writing #I should have had this done months ago #Shoutout to like five people for shaming me into writing again

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