want it all

REXANNA

The Penumbra wonders silently if Jigano is misunderstanding her statement, as she confirms she’s hated by the old gods. They don’t like the Ascended, that much she knows. But, it’s not the old gods she speaks of. She speaks of the world of people with crimson blood, with animal skins or magic or speaking and channeling the gods. It is them she refers to, because once her blood had ran crimson, with fiery magic that tinged it like carbonation to an otherwise smooth drink.

She is both, one of them and not. Like she is with the other Ascended, like them but different too. If anyone can see both ends, Rexanna believes it is her and she will do whatever she can to protect it, to fight for it, to become the strongest and best option there was. She had friends on both ends, Wessex, Bastien, Lucas (to an extent) on the Ascended end, and far too many to count on the other side.

There were so few of the Ascended as is, it’s no wonder the Voice was willing to try and change her – abandoned status or not.

But his question makes her tilt her head, and she sets the lantern down between the two of them as she carefully regards the Sage. “It depends on the situation.” She admits, perhaps a bit too bluntly. But there wasn’t a bone in her body that would quell the ability to stand by and watch while people suffered – she had done that once, and an entire empire had fallen. If anyone knew Rexanna’s resolve from her history, it should be the man that sits before her. The expression is strewn through her sapphire gaze. “I’ve become a weapon to fight for what’s right. To prevent suffering, no matter who causes it.” She adds. “If Bastien would prevent me from doing what I have been made to do, what do you think?” Her head tilts again. I would do it regardless. Goes unspoken.

A Light That Never Goes Out.

Misunderstandings were never rare, it seemed, and all too often discovered too late when one or both parties stayed silent in their concerns. Jigano knew only that Rexanna would not answer his question, and his worry for his friend grew all the greater, adding to the other weight he already carried until he thought his spine might crack beneath the pressure of it. 'You don't have to carry it alone' he had been told recently, and more then once... but as heavy as the burden was, still he found it harder than he expected to try and set it down or share it among other shoulders that might lighten the load, if only his stubborn pride would let them.

His second question, at least, was approached more openly, and he admired her honesty even if it did nothing to alleviate his worries at the changes he saw in her between their last conversation and now.

Would he have been so worried if the change had been for a reason other than one dealing with the strange gods of this world? Probably not, he silently acknowledged to himself, but even knowing the root of his concern did nothing to change what he felt because of it. Gods least fortunate, but every day brought new reasons for him to wish Zariah had stayed in Northhaven and never come to Caido to ruin the lives of his friends. It was beginning to feel like the Abandoned woman was doing more to grow the Voice's armies than three hundred years had.

"I think you will fight for what you think is right," he answered with a wan smile. "Which is all any of us can do." He tilted his head at the woman before him, with her straight back and squared shoulders and the confidence that he had seen in her before amplified tenfold with her new abilities. She had come a long way from needing to be told by a god to find her own happiness. Had she gone too far in the opposite direction? Only time would tell. And would she - could she - refuse the Voice's commands, should that goddess decide to use the weapon that Rexanna had made of herself? That question worried him most of all, but as with Sam he saw that pushing the issue would only create strife between himself and a friend he cared for. Still he smiled for her, though it was tinged with sadness. "So I will hope that he respects your desire to fight... and that you will respect his choice not to, if it comes down to it. It can be a remarkably fine line between fighting against something... and eventually becoming that which you once fought against." And that slope was a deceptively shallow one, and far more slippery than he had ever dreamed in his youth.

REXANNA

There is a certain thing about it all that makes it all the better for her. She doesn’t have to face it alone. Upon her Ascension, Rexanna has realized that she has many new friends, allies, similar goals, the backup, others to bear a similar brunt. Hers is just… Slightly different, with magic intertwined in the mix. And in the comparison of it all, well. She’s already been Abandoned by the old gods, and the Voice had embraced her as her own. It’s all Rexanna really wanted.

A divine being to help her realize she wasn’t alone, to help, to strive, to fight for. Much like Amalia with Safrin, Phoebe with Frey. She was brought into this world on the wrong edge already. Becoming a double edged sword seemed to have its perks, at the very least. She was smack dab in the middle – fire for the Ascended, Ascended abilities for the rest. She didn’t see a way this could go wrong – and Bastien, she loves him so fiercely for giving her this, for showing her the path toward it.

She doesn’t know why she didn’t do it sooner.

Still, she nods as Jigano comments toward her, her own dark haired head tilting toward him with a nod. She would. It’s what she’s always done. A fighter by heart, without the tools. And now? She had them. Did it make her dangerous? Probably, but it made her the best version of herself. Bastien, he might not have realized how much of an unleash this had been, but at least it would protect her better than anything else could.

His concerns, still, are valid, and she nods in agreement to him with that same fanged smile. “We will do our best. But I don’t expect him to change, and likewise he shouldn’t expect me to change.” She begins, her smile softening as she grows a bit more serious. “I love him but… I’ve lived too long in a dark place, letting too many people take advantage of me and my kindness. I will not be caged again.”

A Light That Never Goes Out.

And yet, Rexanna had changed, in the short time Jigano had known her. Sam had changed recently as well, and it was hard not to make those connections, and to fear for his friends who were caught up in a war between gods. Especially when he had a dreadful premonition that debts might come due within their lifetimes. If not his than certainly within the lifetimes of his Ascended friends, and the Voice didn't seem the type to take 'no' for an answer if those she had favored proved ungrateful for her gifts. Bribes? Upgrades to make them better soldiers, certainly.

He could understand Rexanna's desire to be her own person, at least, though he wondered at whether she was just setting herself up to be taken advantage of by the goddess she now served. The bars were harder to see when you walked into a cage of your own choosing... or at least, they were easier to ignore. "What would happen," he asked, slowly and with a growing chill, "if she asks you to do something, and you refuse? Now that you are among the Ascended, if she withholds her sustenance fluid until you comply, what will become of you? Is there another way for you to survive apart from her?"

REXANNA

He questions her, the ability to try and ignore the command from the Voice – a question she hadn’t particularly thought of too far in depth at the ability of her new goddess to refuse to give her the fluid she needs to live, and Rexanna pins Jigano with a quiet quizzical stare. “I can get by on blood for a time.” She announces, but she leans in a slight amount toward him, rolling her shoulders in a shrug.

“She works hard to make us what we are, don’t you think she’d have to have a very good reason for withholding our sustenance for life?” She asks with a quiet tilt of her head. “I trust her, and I trust that despite the possibility of disagreements, that she might just have to deal with us? I was Abandoned, the old gods hated me, but they didn't go out of their way to smite me down.” She ponders the thought before sitting back and letting her gaze drift toward the lantern. “There are so few of us as is, Jigano. I don’t know why all of a sudden everyone is so concerned about us?” She tilts her head as her gaze slides back toward the Bard.

“What have we done?” She asks. Because a suspicion, a thought to pin it on the one group of people that had never really belonged here, trapped and contained within a cage, with such few numbers as is seemed like a terrible way to spread the fear of them. And if Rexanna could prove to everyone else that were growing frightened and cautious of the Ascended, that they weren’t something to be feared so much as understood, she felt as though that might make more strides.

But it seemed like she was going around and around again. Outlander versus Natural. United again, only to be divided by Abandoned and Destined, only to be followed shortly after Old Gods versus Ascended. When would it end?

A Light That Never Goes Out.

For a time, the newly bright woman said, and Jigano couldn’t help but wonder how long such time was. He was given no chance to ask the question, though, as Rexanna leaned in to sing the praises of the Voice. ”And ensuring the obedience of her creations isn’t a very good reason for her? Especially since, as you say, there are so few… and unlike adherents of the Old Gods, you cannot simply walk away from her. You have everything to lose… but she can always entice another into her embrace.” He tried to explain his worries, letting her see the concern in his eyes as he met hers squarely.

”And what do you mean by ‘everyone’? Who else has come to you with concerns about the Ascended?” That small comment caught his attention, sharpening interest he had begun to let flag. This was a conversation that would go in circles until he let it go, just as he had with Sam, and the knowledge stung sharply. He was in no position to do much about it though, not yet. If he could only talk to Ronin then maybe… Ah, but no, Safrin herself was blighted from the Spire, that same stronghold of the Voice that had cost so many their lives.

We, and the word bit deep as the bard watched Rexanna soberly, realizing that no matter her idealistic words about standing between, that she had chosen a side already. Or perhaps had it chosen for her, once desperation had driven her to the Voice’s embrace. Damn Bastien for taking her down that road anyway. Every time he thought he might relax around the artist the man did something new to raise Jigano’s hackles. ”For one, it was a group of Ascended that ignored the desire of no small portion of the rest of the population to stay out of the Spire until we had more time to come to terms with the Demon’s death and study it,” he pointed out quietly. ”Not all of them, no, but it was a group entirely and only of Ascended that did that, putting everyone who disagreed with them to sleep against their will so they could slip within. That was less than a year ago, and resentment over that remains. The Demon itself, which caused the death of so many Naturals – friends and families of those still alive today – had Ascended characteristics as well. It appeared to be a creation of the Voice rather than the old gods. I don’t suppose the Voice has had much to say on what it was, or why it was there? Or why she did nothing to rein it in? And then there are the worries that the blight is linked to the Voice in some way, due to the timing of it appearing in the Greatwood only after the barrier fell, and infecting Safrin after she fell within the Spire, which was the Voice’s stronghold. Sam asked her about it, I think… but she did not answer him. So if the question is what you, as a newly-minted individual Ascended, has done? The answer is: nothing. But if the question is what has the Voice done? She has been involved in much that erodes trust, and little that builds it. I, too, had once thought to try and stand between the gods and try to mediate… but I admit, my friend, that I do not like what I have seen of her, and I have grave concerns for my friends who have fallen under her sway.” Sam and Rex most of all.

REXANNA

She listens as best she can, before a smile flickers on her face, though whether it’s friendly or cold is another story. “And who is willing to do that?” She retorts, head tilting as she regards Jigano. She could bring another to the Ascended side, but as far as Rexanna knows, not many are asking. Bastien and her being the most recent ones to actively go and seek out the Voice to make their changes. She finds it unlikely others will start to follow suit, with the anxiety that’s involved around them.

And when Jigano asks him about everyone, her eyes flicker slightly as she looks away from him. “It’s been a constant thing since I arrived. At first, with Archebold… Which was understandable, but then it extended. People telling me to avoid them, but I couldn’t stay away. Not with Bastien, not with Lucas. They are my friends, despite it all.” She mentions as though she’s tallying it off. Her eyes land back on the pale haired man, a brow raised slightly. “And now, with this blight I’ve just learned of, everyone is on edge. They’re going to be looking for someone to blame, and it seems you have an idea of who.” She pauses with another tilt to her head.

But before she knows it, Jigano begins to go off on a tangent, not leaving room for much breath other than letting the Penumbra listen, to hear him out and see what he says, but the story quickly begins to pin the blame, to say that they had done such wrong to go into the Spire to release their goddess. Would he not do the same? She doesn’t know much of the Voice, but she does know of the goddess being trapped within, and she bites down on her lip to prevent herself from interrupting until she deems it absolutely necessary. “The Spire was a stronghold and a cage Jigano.” She announces quietly, a small amount of venom in her words. “It effected the Ascended just as much as it effects you.” If she still had dark tinged blood, her face would be flushed. “The Ascended perished within the Spire just the same. Lucas nearly died.”

“Do you think that if the other gods had pinned Safrin into a cage, and she called to you to let her out, that you wouldn’t do whatever you could?” She poises the question back to him. “How long would it have taken to figure it out? How long is it still and you don’t know what’s within it? How is that studying going?” There’s a bite to her voice, but she can’t help it. She won’t let someone try to tell her she’s made a terrible decision, when all she can see is the light. All she can see is her brightness shining through.

“Perhaps the Demon had been created as a means to try and help her out of it, only having it be corrupted as well? What if it’s not the Voice so much as the Spire itself. She didn’t create it for herself, she was put there, as I recall.” But she pauses briefly, aiming to calm herself, but without a heart to beat rapidly and the need for air, she finds it does little to quell her mind. “For all the concerns you have of the Voice, she has done nothing but provide for us. To help us. And that is wrong because of coincidence?” She asks, before she stands.

She runs a pale hand through her dark hair before she looks toward Jigano once more. “I am not trying to stand in between the gods, I am simply trying to be the best me I can. Bastien showed me the tools, and I took them.” She pauses, sapphire gaze shuttering slightly, as though she’d never had that option before. Her life too far dictated by what others thought, and the way Jigano is responding to her new version of herself falls under that same feeling. But there’s a difference between this version of Rexanna and her old Abandoned self. The Penumbra simply doesn’t care anymore.

A Light That Never Goes Out.

"Isla was," Jigano said quietly, naming a friend who was gone and yet not, no longer the soul he had known and begun to love. "And then Bastien, much to my surprise. And now you, one of the last people who I thought would trade the sun away. I might not be able to predict who will choose such a path... but in the near-year that I've been here, I have known three who have chosen Ascension, and only one who has become Attuned." It was one thing to hear about it happening in the past, and another to see it with his own eyes, after all. More Outlanders arrived already Attuned than Ascended, it was true, though they had no choice in the matter.

"Who told you to avoid them?" he asked gently. "No one warned me away from Sam, or from Isla after she Ascended. No one made any complaints about them being in my guild. Rory and Amalia have had friends among the Ascended as well, so it's not just a matter of naturals versus outlanders. I sat in the Rathskeller and walked the town regularly, and I didn't see trouble begin until after what happened at Spire." Then, yes, there had been anger and resentment at the trampling of the non-Ascended's dignity and the magic cast against them without their consent.

The venom in her voice surprised him, and it worried him all the more at how she had changed in more than just body. Though she had Ascended only recently it was as though she took the Spire and events around it personally. "You nearly died as well, I seem to recall, from Lucas's fangs," he pointed out quietly. "But those who went up encountered no poison. Only those who went down. And I never did get a full accounting of what they did down there, but that poison wasn't always there. That might be something to ask Lucas the next time you see him." He tilted his head at her wearily, curious at her word choice. "And cage it might have become, but even you admit that it was her stronghold first and foremost."

He arched a brow at the flurry of questions - more than half accusation, and he snorted a wry, humorless laugh. "I would do the same for Safrin or Frey," he agreed easily. "Let them stay within their cage until I knew more about them. Even Ludo, for all I know far more about them now. But I've also seen what they can do in a fit of pique, and I would not release them so lightly. None of the gods of this world have our best interests at heart, for all they pick and choose individual favorites. I have learned that much." He paused, eyes narrowing at the bite in her voice. "And the studying has gone quite well. There's more to learn, but I know a great deal more about the bottom of that Spire than I did before. Both the dangers and the potential locked within it." A flicker of sorrow, then, for Rexanna would know more as well if she hadn't been so wrapped up with Bastien, and then with Zariah because of Bastien. And now this Ascension because of Bastien as well... He had to force himself not to grit his teeth against the rising anger towards the cult leader-turned-artist.

"Are you certain that she did not create the Spire?" he asked softly, remembering the inorganic blackness of the tree in the Woodlands and the black sphere within the Atheneum, all part and parcel of the substance of the Spire. Remembering, too, that none but Ascended could open that obelisk... a key he did not think the old gods would have put in place. "And perhaps the Demon was corrupted by the old gods. Or perhaps she let loose a soldier to keep non-Ascended mortals away and lost control of it, resulting in centuries of death and tragedy. The problem is that no one knows, for she would not tell her previous children that answer. 108 was one of the oldest, and even they were not allowed to know." It was hard to believe in innocence when there was such secrecy around things.

Then again, that was assuming the Voice could not or at least would not lie, and he had no reason to believe that anymore than he believed any of the other gods had proven themselves entirely honest. Unlikely to, yes. But not incapable of it.

"And what 'us' do you refer to?" he repeated softly, bardic instinct recognizing with painful irony that the conversation had come full circle. "What help has she provided for non-Ascended? For that matter, what has she provided to the Ascended beyond bribes and a contract of enforced servitude - to obey her or starve until you're as mad as the Demon?" And there was a thought... an Ascended who had been driven mad with hunger, starved as punishment for disobedience until it lost all semblance of mind and became a ravening beast, drawn to the Voice as the source of sustenance within the Spire even as it fought to keep others away from the source of its madness? Terrifying thought...

"'Don’t you think it’s important to have someone on both sides?'" he quoted back to her, an uncanny echo of her voice coming from his mimic's throat. "Your words, not mine." He sighed, head dropping wearily so he would not have to look up at her anymore, young and blazing with her newfound power, so brightly that she blinded herself to the consequences. "For what it's worth, I believe you had the tools before, and they were yours. Not Bastien's, and not some god's. I just hope you feel this way next year, when the newness of it has worn off." He still remembered Sam's bitterness at losing his senses, especially taste and feeling the warmth of others. It was a terrible price to pay for power, and one that would only grow steeper with time, he feared.

But then again, wasn't that why the Voice bribed her children with shiny new trinkets, regularly giving them new toys and abilities to distract them from what they had lost? Goddess she might now be, but she had been mortal once, and she had an understanding of mortals that made her far more dangerous than the old gods would ever be.

REXANNA

For a moment, the Penumbra doesn’t understand the point he’s getting at. That made three in a year. Her head tilts slightly as she regards him. “We are few.” She announces to him, regardless. Isla had died, so many had died in the Spire and around it. All she could recall were a grand total of… What? Six? She’s sure she’s forgetting some, but she keeps her mouth shut. They might be few, but that didn’t mean they didn’t have a voice either.

“A few Accepted when I first arrived.” She announces, head tilting as she listens to how nobody had warned him of Sam or Isla, and she wants to shake her head – to tell them that it’s different, because he was capable and for whatever reason, everyone thinks that she can’t make her own decisions. That it’s impossible for her to do so. And all she can do is stare at Jigano with a small amount of growing frustration.

She nods her head in response to his comment about Lucas. “There were still dead Ascended up above.” She pauses before regarding him again with a slightly raised brow. “Wouldn’t you try to make the best of a prison?” It isn’t as much of her trying to defend her new Goddess as it is a small amount of understanding. It went both ways, don’t point fingers at me and I wont point them at you. But he agrees to letting Safrin and all of them remain in their cages – she finds it impossible to believe.

“So what are the dangers and potential locked within? Or am I not to know?” Because the way the conversation has shifted with unsaid words is making her feel less like a friend of Jigano’s and more like a target. Her brow lifts at the question that follows, and she gives him a small half smile of disbelief. “Why would she have created the Spire? When I was imprisoned, I wasn’t imprisoned in my own dungeon.” She says easily, mostly because having intimate knowledge into being imprisoned in your own space was likely a terrible idea from the start.

Her head lifts as she listens to him explain further. “Exactly, no one knows.” She admits, a slight pause to her as her eyes narrow. “It’s all up to ‘possibly this’ or ‘possibly that’, it’s the same with the situation of the blight now.” She retorts, wishing to take a deep breath despite knowing it would do little for her. “The us being the Ascended and I, because I am a part of it. Likewise I would say us for my Abandoned family as well.” She tilts her head, as if to ask what he’s trying to point at.

“Both sides. Meaning Abandoned and Ascended. That is not a war between gods.” She skips one of the questions to round back to later. “She protected me against being put in Zariah’s dungeon as well, with no expectations of anything.” And the Voice had. She could have only stated that Lucas was there for her, and not the Penumbra as well. But she had been included, and they had been left alone.

It isn’t until the next comment that has her feeling far more frustrated than any of the rest of their conversation. “They have always been my tools, Jigano. I was attached to my old life in different ways that I do not regret the decision that I made. I alone made it. I only had help along the way.” She pauses as if it’s not clear enough, wanting to tear the words from her mouth and heart. What was it with assuming that she couldn't make her own decisions if others helped along the way?  “I would have done it sooner if I knew it was possible, but I didn’t until now.”

A Light That Never Goes Out.

"More than you think," he murmured, remembering 108 and their tale of sleeping the centuries away. True, there were not so many Ascended currently active, but how many remained in stasis, tucked away in underground tombs safe from the sunlight until their goddess called them back to wakefulness? Something else he was not sure the Voice had shared with her younger worshipers.

"Anyone I know?" he asked curiously at hearing that several had become Attuned before his arrival. Of course, Ascended hadn't been the only ones to die on Caido. He had watched one wolf be devoured by a land shark, and knew of others who had died during Long Night. Still others had disappeared, missing and presumed dead after seasons of silence.

"She would not be the first ruler to create a fortress with dungeons, only to find herself locked in her own creation when the tides of her war turned against her," he pointed out, blue eyes searching Rexanna's for any sign that she understood, or if her arguments in defense of the goddess came from a place outside of her own experiences. He could see where she would feel a connection to the Voice's situation... but as far as he knew, the Voice had sought power and ambition, melding a ruthless curiosity with selfish desire for more until she had shed her mortality and pitted herself against the existing gods. Rexanna's tale had been one of a woman tossed on stormy political seas not of her own divising, and he thought the similarities between goddess and once-queen were superficial at best.

But he guessed that Rexanna thought otherwise... or, if she hadn't before, she did now.

"Ask your lady," he suggested, a flicker of frustration sparking in his eyes. "She should know more about the Spire than any of us. Ask her, and then let us pool what we've learned and see where it takes us. Ask her who created the Demon, and why. Ask her and get answers, don't just make up excuses for her." An 'us' that excluded Accepted, Attuned, and gods both old and Older alike. An 'us' that could work to recruit more Abandoned to the Voice's new army... though given how the old gods treated the mages he could not find it in himself to entirely blame them. It was not what he had wanted to hear, but it was what he had been expecting since she had first brought it up. At least it was out in the open now, and he noted that her only example of help had still involved an Ascended - protecting Rexanna as a gift to Bastien.

It was not a point he thought Rexanna would want to hear, however, and he simply slumped in his seat, shaking his head wearily. "That is because she told another that it wasn't possible. Another mage who was on good terms with one of the old gods. And now she has obviously changed her mind." Convenient, that. And how much role did Bastien play in that change of heart core? Ah well. The gods had always had their favorites, and the Voice was no different, only more blatant. Would Rexanna have made the choice without Bastien's involvement in her life? He didn't think so... but what he thought mattered not at all.

"For what it's worth, I may not agree with your choice... but you are still my friend," he said with a sigh, rising slowly as if feeling twice the number of years his body had lived. "Give me some time to get used to this change. A great many things are happening all at once. Perhaps too many. When things have settled down a bit..." He trailed off, a wry twist of dark humor at the reminder that things almost never settled down on this world. They careened from one emergency to the next, often with multiple new problems arising at once. He shrugged, a helpless gesture, and looked out into the dark beyond the Temple's doors. "I should go," he said quietly, realizing with a start how late it was becoming. How long had he spent in the pews, thoughts chasing uselessly around his head like mice on a wheel? There were going to be questions, and he needed to find Ronin and ask what had happened, and where things had gone so wrong.