A pause to hunt

yet my blood renders me a King

"Since you were born? Wow. Same as my lighting then. No wonder you're so powerful with it." Inherit magic was always special, the aptitude stronger then any other magic. The Abandoned was incredibly thankful for it, as it was part of the reason he had kept his upon coming to Caido. If he had lost his lightning as well as his original form? It would have been too devastating to handle.

Sah gave a grin at Deimos' statement. "Good." Finishing the heart, and feeding some to the peryton, Sah stood up. He handed the Sword the knife back before grabbing his own. Then he set about the task of carving the ursur. The Abandoned was efficient and as Deimos came back, he quickly finished up and loaded the beast onto the sled.

Cleaning his hands in the snow, Sah tilted his head. "Want to keep hunting or head home? That went far quicker than I expected." An ursur was plenty for a single hunt, but the Abandoned wasn't keen on heading back just yet.

Sah

DEIMOS

the ocean does not apologize for its depth
and the mountains do not seek forgiveness

He took the compliment with a small grin, before helping lift the beast onto the sled. “And you will gain more the longer you are here.” Stronger, more powerful, more potent, until there seemed to be no end – acquiring the strands, plucking at the strings; lives and souls riddled with unlimited prowess. All in how they grasped, how they worked, how they banded together, and Deimos was eternally ready to assist anyone in magical reaches, in understanding the way it worked.

The Sword moved forward, checking over his companions, before eyeing the wares upon their apparatus. The hunt had been quick, and there was enough space to bring back something else. “The deer and moose are still options.” He could easily send Belial ahead again, and have the peryton lead the way through the tundra, permitting Sah a moment to decide his preference. The General had neither; though the potential for a moose, with all its other components and larger structure, might have made for a tidier, more efficient kill.

And then a question contorted through his brain, the slightest tilt to his head, no intonations other than the normal rumble of curiosity. “Did you talk to the Voice?”

for the space they take
and so, neither shall I

yet my blood renders me a King

Sah gave a sharp nod of determination. "I will." As his work on the ursur was completed, he contemplated their options. They'd hunted reindeer last time, so maybe a moose would be fun? Eyeing the sled, it looked like it could handle  a moose. "Let's go for the moose, if the sled won't break that is." The combined weight of a moose and ursur was no joke. Even if Deimos might be able to handle it, Sah wasn't sure that the sled could.

Deimos' question came out of the blue, but it wasn't unexpected. The easy tone was a bit surprising but only mildly. Sah gave the Sword a solemn nod. "I did. I wasn't really expecting her to show up in person, but we met." He shook his head slightly in frustration. "I didn't get any answers. She told me to talk to the Ascended, to hear about their lives. And decide for myself based on that." He turned a contemplative glance on the Sword. "Although that's sound advice, she clearly wants me to ignore the past. And I won't do that, not when the past is so heavily influencing the present."

The Outlander hummed in thought. "Her presence was odd. Cold but calm. Calculating for sure, but not unnerving. She's not what I expected." She was clearly a Goddess and at first her presence had been intimidating. But as they spoke, it became nearly soothing. It was bizarre. "One other thing stood out. She was.. perplexed that her own had told me to come to her for knowledge instead of simply telling me when I asked. And I did ask, in both person and in letters. Both times I was just told to go to the Voice and ask her. It's strange."

Sah

DEIMOS

the ocean does not apologize for its depth
and the mountains do not seek forgiveness

A loud snort erupted through the Sword’s nares, gazing back at the sled. “I can always make another, for you to pull.” A tease and a taunt, but perhaps a necessary one if the moose did prove too large and cumbersome, and not enough space remained. But the beast trusted in his own abilities to make a structure fitting, strong, and sturdy enough, and left it at that. His attention meandered away from the justifications, and to the peryton awaiting his next decree. At segments flickering and flowing through companion bonds, the young, winged deer emitted one excited squeal, before hastening skyward again – permitting them to follow along his antics.

Easy enough, breaking through another clearing without rock, rubble, or massive snow mounds, so they could wander freely and without much distraction; allowing him to ponder Sah’s responses. The fact that he saw the Voice was intriguing; not passed off as many Abandoned might’ve been. Ignoring the past, and only focusing on the present, however, was a manipulative means – forgoing everything she’d done and committed: atrocity after atrocity. “But her actions paint a picture,” he noted, which Sah seemed to understand anyway. “And I fear it will continue. We have already had death and sickness. And she would like everyone to forget it happened?” Another visceral snort plumed from his chest, rising along vestiges and vapors into the cold air.

His head tilted, lost in thought, in encounters of another kind. “I met her once, when I was assisting Rexanna in being healed. She forced Loren and I’s heads down.” So they couldn’t see her power, or because their connections, their souls, were already brimming and filled to some other decrees – Attuned and Abandoned; a justification of things she couldn’t breach. A furrowing of his brows flickered at the last statement. “Why do you think they did that?” To have him rendered and deceived just like they’d been? A few theories spiked and calculated in Deimos’ mind, but he’d listen to Sah’s first.

for the space they take
and so, neither shall I

yet my blood renders me a King

Sah chuckled, raising a brow at the Sword. "Noted. I'd do my best to pull it and not be pulled down the mountain." The Abandoned hadn't been ignoring his physical training, but he wasn't sure if he'd be able to lug a moose around.

Deimos' words received the Abandoned's full agreement. "They certainly do. She's painting her people as victims of oppression, which they are. But she's trying to disregard the crimes she committed that led to that. Claiming that they're irrelevant ancient history even though many are recent." Sah grimaced. "I hate it, because the actions of a God and of their people are separate. One's choices don't always reflect the others. And that  goes both ways."

Sah's eyes snapped to meet Deimos'. "She made you bow? I had my head inclined slightly pretty much the entire time but she never made me bow." He done that much out of respect for her being a Goddess, and because Wessex had made no move whatsoever to do so.

Deimos' question was completely valid and had Sah letting out a frustrated sigh. "I'm not sure. When the Voice asked them, they claimed it was that they couldn't describe some things properly. That some things needed to be felt, not told." Sah's bow furrowed as he continued. "They said they wanted me to have the chance to speak with her, to feel her warmth and know that I was being given a chance that the heralds would never grant me."

And that did sound manipulative but that was Wessex's choice, not the Voice's. The Voice had been just as confused as Sah, which was ironic. "I'm not sure what they were trying to accomplish. If it was manipulative in nature, it failed because their own Goddess wasn't going for it." His eyes  narrowed. "Though it.. it does make me worry about how much they were being manipulated by her if they couldn't tell me themselves. But even that fact was surprising to the Voice so I'm not sure what to make of it." It really was just an odd circumstance that no Ascended out of the three he'd met had been willing to give him details. And that two had told him to talk to the Voice.

"Deimos, you've met more than one Ascended, right? I've met three. And when asked, two of them told me to go to the Voice instead of answering my questions. Is that normal for them?"

Sah

DEIMOS

the ocean does not apologize for its depth
and the mountains do not seek forgiveness

Any other time the image of Sah potentially falling down the side of a mountain, or run over by a sled, might’ve given him a full range of laughter. Unfortunately, they were now deep into philosophical musings, spurred on by himself and he could only blame his curiosity, eyes flickering upwards every so often to track and trail Belial’s movements. Zuriel clambered along, hooves marching steadily through the snow, near the side of the sled.

The Sword hadn’t considered the Ascended as victims of oppression before. Mostly because what he'd seen and experienced were their actions; not all of them, for certain – Samuel, eternally kind if not a little misplaced in his morality, Rexanna, with her noble heart, striving to break away from Zariah’s chains (whom he desperately missed, especially now, in the midst of all these natures clambering and seething in their incoming maelstroms). Bastien, with an artist’s flourish and rendition, once content to oblige him with ways to make lives better. Wessex was an outlier of brutality, power, and condemnation, and seemed to be the monster at the end of the rope; the line constantly extended, further and further. They were all individuals, much like any Old God follower. Much like any other neutral body. “Which is why I have no misgivings towards the Ascended themselves. It has always been the Voice, and her actions.” He nodded in agreement and accord; they were all separate beings – but this goddess had tethered her people.

His gaze narrowed briefly, over the tundra, over the way of the world, at Sah’s question. Alterations and changes; he hadn't considered those actions in such a method – forced to bow. It made his jaw clench and something else snap in the back of his mind. “Apparently. Though I presumed it was so we could not see what she was doing.” There only to provide aid to his friend.

The other statements rounded over, of warmth and guidance, of things he certainly hadn’t felt in her presence. A coldness had settled into his veins then, prompting a taut spine and ramrod shoulders, even while his skull had been forced downward. The oddity of the flickering nuances left him perplexed as well; uncertain what it was all meant to signify. “Maybe they simply wanted you to experience being in her presence.” That it might alter minds. He shook his head, incapable of understanding it either. His piercing stare meandered back over to the Abandoned at the final question though. “My best friend was Ascended. Her daughter is now. I have had many companions that follow the Voice; but I cannot think of any that would tell me to go directly to her.” Especially given who he was. “Perhaps they believed it would help pull you to her way of thinking.” Otherwise, he couldn't be sure just what they'd been contemplating or aiming at.

for the space they take
and so, neither shall I

yet my blood renders me a King

Sah listened intently as Deimos spoke. It was relieving to be remined yet again where Deimos stood when it came to the Ascended as a whole. Especially given how clear it was that the Voice had hurt him personally. Humiliated him even if Sah was reading the Swords' expressions correctly.

Sah shrugged at Deimos' comment. "That's the best I can come up with too. I guess they thought meeting a Goddess would make me feel special. Mostly I just felt like I was wasting the Voice's time, which was a bit nerve-wracking." Wasting a god's time was generally a quick way to angering them after all.

Hearing about Deimos' friend, the use of 'was' and all had Sah's brow furrowing. There was clearly a painful history there, one that he wouldn't pry into. But the fact that the Sword had interacted with numerous Ascended as well and never been told to go to the Voice? Then why the hell had two Ascended told Sah, a near stranger, to do so? "It's bizarre. They were so insistent and it amounted to nothing. I would have thought it was a trap had the Voice not been just as perplexed as I was."

Sah

DEIMOS

the ocean does not apologize for its depth
and the mountains do not seek forgiveness

They turned and rounded another proportion, where it almost yielded to a cove-like structure, only ice and snow instead of any water inlets. The sled dragged on behind him, movements steady and hushed, merely pressing into alabaster shards and sheen; his eyes still kept on Belial, but his thoughts marauding and careening around the implications of these conversations. “Understandable,” especially given power and positions; they might’ve been putting Sah in a place of danger, exposing him to moments he hadn’t experienced for himself. The act seemed foolish, and perplexed him too, when everyone else woven into the filaments were also bewildered by the exchange. Something wasn’t lining up.

The only parameter he could pinpoint down in the machinations was the onslaught of the war. The brimming horizon now anointed with a timeline. “We might be at a point where they will try anything to sway others.” Why not strive to secure other mages? Those who might not be close to the Old Gods? Those who felt tossed aside, simply because of how they were born? While this had never stopped Deimos, for he would never be ashamed of those incantations pulsing through his blood, many Naturals may not feel the same. And Amalia had encouraged him, every step of the way, to not just give up or give in. There could've been hordes more that had never been given the opportunity. “Abandoned. Accepted. The ones that have not chosen a side. Potential allies for their cause.” For their survival. That was a comprehensible feat too; but it also spoke highly of desperation. Why would the Voice not encourage it? Questions, questions, questions that might not have any answers.

for the space they take
and so, neither shall I

yet my blood renders me a King

Sah let out a sigh, brows furrowing slightly. "There's one other thing. Even though the Voice seemed puzzled over her Ascended's choice, and gave me advice related to making my own choices..." He bit his lip. "I apparently made quite an impression, a good one." At the time he'd been so caught off guard that he didn't even have a chance to reply.

Sah turned to Deimos with a baffled look. "She calls her people 'Bright ones', right? She called me 'young light' and offered to Ascend me if I wished for it and visited her again." The Abandoned was still struggling to process the Voice's parting words. To be offered Ascension seemed out of the ordinary for the first meeting between the goddess and an Abandoned, but he didn't know that for sure.

"Deimos, that's not normal, right? She normally doesn't just offer that to an Abandoned she just met? I thought both the Old and New were far more prejudiced against Abandoned. Even her. It's clear that they're recruiting, but that just seemed..." Sah shook his head, words failing him. Recruitment was one thing, offering Ascension was an entirely different matter.

Sah

DEIMOS

the ocean does not apologize for its depth
and the mountains do not seek forgiveness

The ice didn’t falter, the rime didn’t cast them aside, and the tundra beyond continued to unravel as they made their way beside mountain sides; a home settling into his chest. Stare still trained on his favored flying beast, head tilting, a listening proportion of might and steadfastness, as they pressed and crossed into snow. That Sah made a good impression didn’t actually surprise the Sword; he’d reacted in accordance, in seeking out wisdom from the source, even if Deimos himself thought it particularly foolish.

His eyes narrowed dangerously for a moment at the implications though. An offering extended for Sah to join her; a hybrid slate – drained of his life and given fluid, coaxed and tethered to the singular being, a life reliant on others and shrines and particulars he probably had yet to fathom. He withheld a hiss, a growl, but it snuck in behind his teeth, his head shaking. “It sounds like desperation.” Reaching, pulling, striving, trying to change and alter others to her side; to proffer an extension of consequences he’d never crave or want for his own. “Were you intrigued by it?” Did you want to? probably should’ve been the inquiry; but he hid that too.

Alarmed, scared, for the younger man who was swiftly becoming a beacon for more alarming figures.

He grew quiet again, contemplative, confused, perplexed, before he could draw upon his own experiences. “I do not know how often she offers, or when. Rexanna and Neron were the only ones I have ever heard of becoming Abandoned and Ascended.” And only the latter remained.

for the space they take
and so, neither shall I

yet my blood renders me a King

Sah listened as Deimos recalled his own experiences before answering. "It does sound desperate. I'm not particularly powerful. At least, not enough for her to jump at the opportunity like that. Especially if it's not something that she often offers."

As for the Sword's burning question, Sah shook his head. "Surprised and flattered, yes. But I have no intention of Ascending. Even if the Voice was some omnibenevolent god and Ascending didn't mean being dependent on her for life. I still wouldn't." The Outlander put a hand on his chest. "This body is still so new to me, changing it would just add more chaos."

Sah gave Deimos a small grin. "And I have always been a creature of nature. Becoming something so separate, even against it? I don't want that for myself. I wouldn't be happy." He shook his head slightly. "I can never see myself willingly Ascending."

Sah

DEIMOS

the ocean does not apologize for its depth
and the mountains do not seek forgiveness

But it had been an opportunity; one that the Voice had strived to seize. He pondered over the platitudes of what had occurred over the years: especially with the raising of the dead just last Leafchange. Perhaps even those moments had been sparked in desperation, a chance to override Old God traditions, and snag, steal, from Mort’s Realm. The how didn’t perplex him as much as the why, but even then, would it really matter? They knew what foreboding figures and decisions lay ahead, and he’d learned the cost of war over and over again. “And maybe it was just that. You were willing to listen.” Simpler than catering to the other heralds; and hadn’t she always prided herself on being different from them? An easy snap of the fingers, and lives were forever changed.

Relief only came when Sah announced he had no intentions of Ascension; fixturing on his features with an arched brow and something akin to a muffled laugh. “Very true. You have come leaps and bounds already.” And he maneuvered onward, a stronger tug on the sled, underneath Belial’s constant shadow. “No need to make it even worse.” Another low chuckle and rumble, pondering over the likes of losing senses, of creatures of nature. It was the lack of control for him – why the notions had never come over his frame. Besides immediate influences the moment he arrived, he had no desire of being so tightly tethered, noosed, and dependent.

He raised his head once more, glancing upwards to where the peryton began to lower himself, an indication they were near. “The moose is just around the corner. Do you want to use the same strategy?”

for the space they take
and so, neither shall I

yet my blood renders me a King

Sah's eyes softened a bit in sympathy. "That might just be it." Willing to listen, something he got he feeling very few were willing to give. He let out a sigh. "It still doesn't change my perspective, but... I do hate the corner that the Ascended overall have been pushed into." That truly was were the Outlander's confliction manifested. His loved ones were neutral or for the Old Gods. But morality decreed that the annihilation of an entire race, no matter who their god was, was unacceptable.  

The Abandoned that his clear refusal had set the Sword at ease. Sah had considered the pros and cons of Ascension and Attuning as soon as he learned that hybridizing was possible. And his conclusion was the same for both paths. It wasn't for him, he would remain an Abandoned. Deimos' praise on his progress however received a grateful grin. "Thank you, it's taken quite a bit of help." As well as far too many awkward situations, but he'd take most of those to his grave.  

Returning to a hunting mentality at the mention of moose, Sah nodded. "Let's do it." His grin turned eager as he drew his blade once more. Swords had been his means of regaining his claws, and the Outlander had grown to love using them. And one that channeled his lighting magic? Deimos' gift was absolutely his favorite weapon.

Sah

DEIMOS

the ocean does not apologize for its depth
and the mountains do not seek forgiveness

“It is unfortunate,” was all Deimos could surmise on the subject matter of corners and choices, a frown settling there, amidst where there’d been laughter before. For those Ascended he still cherished and considered friends, brethren, a collected fold, he didn’t know what else to do. Out of his control, out of his hands; for no matter how much individuals seemed to hone in on the notions and platitudes of neutrality; the Sword doubted the gods would allow it. There was intent layered in their tasks. There was dominion lacquered to their quests. And then there’d been the celebration, and the announcements layered in its midst. A timeline, a timeframe, until something else was torn asunder.

And they’d likely be left wondering just what had happened.

A light smile made its way back to the corners of his mouth at the notions of help, where he shook his head and then quickly nodded, fading away to dominions of hunting, rather than anything else. A clarity to his mind, to focus on things where wars weren’t about to rip apart lives, where there were no relics to scour for, where there were no multitudes of mayhem to parse through.

“You go ahead, and I will weaken it.” Same as before – as his eyes flickered to the large bull moose, grazing, searching for any grass wedged and forged beneath snow. It appeared young, perhaps a little naïve, foolish, the rack of antlers not quite fully-developed. Once more, the General molded himself into snow and incantations – the unfurling, the reaching, the pulling of life drain etching and sketching its way to the beast – giving Sah ample time to move ahead.

for the space they take
and so, neither shall I