To lead but never follow

I'll leave my love hidden in the sun

Seren nodded. Agreeing, seeing his point and glad that he understood hers. Much as it would have been satisfying to rile and rage, they were too rational for that. Her wide gesturing was the most heated her arguments became, and when Deimos sank down onto his bench, Seren slumped down to sit on the graveled path before him. Just out of his line of sight, so he wouldn't have to look at her if he didn't feel like it.

"So it's a double problem, then," she summarized, softer and lighter in her tone. Hell bent on chewing this bone - she did not need rest - until Deimos grew tired of her or they found some kind of starting point. "You need to rebuild rapport with Torchline - they're the closest and strongest ally at the moment in terms of regions - and somehow we need to figure out a selling point for Halo. Because clearly the current one is not working as well as it should." Seren was developing quite the fondness for the place, but she had to admit that even she would not enjoy living in bitter cold every season of the year. Daughter of sand and sea as she was, raised in the tropical paradise of Torchline, the lack of greenery sometimes unsettled her.

Shrugging away the issue of easy communications - it was a problem of hers that would have to be solved at another time - Seren gazed up at her friend. The lines of wear in his face were a concern - but she felt the need to keep pushing him to think. If battles and invasions were not options... what else might be?

"My parents are overprotective," she remarked with a wry smile. "But while I did promise my mother that I would not make myself a martyr for others, she also encouraged me to go out and test my limits. To fight, bluntly put. And I've done that, and realized how far I have left to go before I can make a difference that way. If anything, using me in bargains would be far more productive than throwing me onto a battlefield." Leaning an elbow against her knee, Seren rested her chin in the upturned palm and let her eyes drift out over the flowerbeds. The serenity of Mourn remained undisturbed despite their argument, and she wished she could emulate the spirit of this place. Unflappable, impossible to disrupt.

"So... What's so good about Halo? Why do you want to live in eternal cold, surrounded by hoards of vicious predators?"

For when the darkness comes

SEREN

DEIMOS

ache first, but then let the cuts close
spit out the blood

The Sword would have preferred to wallow, brood, and mope for the better part of the day; reel in his frustrations, in his anger, in the course of all the failures beating and bleeding down the back of his skull. A retreat back into himself, where the fortresses were massive and the walls were infinite, and he could take a moment to breathe. But Seren kept pressing, kept making him mull and peruse and machinate; and whether this was good or bad might have been something to muse about later. Regardless, it didn’t permit him to sink any further, and he could stave off the exhaustion in his bones for a few more instigating hours. His vocals were flat and neutral still; no rise to anger, as he’d always been somewhat of a controlled, patient individual, but the notion of Torchline gave him pause.

It’d been the justification of their pettiness and vengeance, and if it weren’t for Aurelia, they might’ve been able to proceed further. Though he had no qualms to working with the Fireheart, Hotaru did. It might’ve been something for Noah to muddle through, though the misgivings laden in his jaw pulsed and reverberated, sent out into the autumn air. “But this will also force Torchline to make a stand. To choose.” Some weren’t ready for that. Another sigh flickered through, and he had half a notion to hide behind his hands, or to lean back against the bench and fade off.

He still didn’t agree with the sentiments of using Seren as a trade-off, and let it sit in the tethers and lines, rather than comment further. Instead, it was the inquiry that made him lean forward, elbows on thighs, a quiet, muffled, choked laugh behind his teeth. His affinity for Halo had begun with the Aurora Basin, and though they would never be the same, the mountains were in his blood, in his bones, from lifetimes ago. “The mageglass, when you can find it.” And then came the rest, in between pauses of breath; hushed reflection on why he’d always strived to remain in its keep. “A strong, formidable, independent people. And while the predators are vicious, their hides, meat, and bones are valuable.” For trade, for bartering, for those who yearned for furs and multitudes of tools. “The Citadel is shielded to ensure no one freezes within its sanction. And we have a greenhouse now, to keep ourselves in constant supply.” So when Deepfrost locked it all away, it was still safe, still secure, still capable of fending off the void. “And a great many mysteries yet to be unraveled there.” A fond smile had formed somewhere in between, but it lingered listlessly now; uncertain, unsure.

watch your body pull itself back together
then let your soul do the same

I'll leave my love hidden in the sun

Shrugging lightly, the girl's slender shoulders did not express much concern about that. "Torchline has been my Mother's for a long time now. The canals, the protection from the storms... and now that Sunjata has stepped back, there are two queens directly appointed by Safrin to head the region. It may not be screamed from the rooftops, but anyone who doesn't realize this is either blind or deluding themselves." Just as the Greatwood was generally considered Ludo's domain, and just as Frey had begun to gain foothold over Halo. The grab for power and fortified positions had begun long before the declaration of war sounded. "Religion aside, it's a strong nation who might not be delighted to end up in the middle of a conflict, should Halo become a fortified region under the Voice and Stormbreak decides to take action. It would be in their best interest to ensure that their closest neighbor to the north is an ally."

Leaning back against a flowerbed, lounging gracefully on the ground like it was some royal chair, Seren listened as Deimos rattled off his favorite things about the snowy region. His smile was a welcome sight, the first she had seen today, and she responded in kind.
"I'm not a hunter, though. Or a miner, or gardener. I'm a Torcher born and Stormbreaker by habit. I'm used to cobbled streets, bookstores, cafés on street corners, green leaves and flowers blooming in Leafchange. What does Halo have to offer someone like me?" A little challenge, a curious question - was hard work and challenges all there was about the place?
"Didn't there use to be a school, up there? What happened to it?"

For when the darkness comes

SEREN

DEIMOS

ache first, but then let the cuts close
spit out the blood

“There are quite a few living in delusion then.” A vicious snort, that might’ve encompassed a laugh if he wasn’t so hellbent on other conjectures, rallied through. Expressions of neutrality and impartiality still persisted, winding along and through, despite a great many not understanding the weight of the world. While Safrin had long since laid claim to the Torchline region, through Sunjata and his efforts, and now the pair of Queens, he’d heard no official standpoint. Perhaps it went unsaid, spoken into the land, much like the Grounds and their dedication of Ascended, assembling a fortress, battening down the hatches. But he nodded at her considerations, some efforts already put in place as far as information gathering. “Sah and Cordelia were meeting with the Queens. I am waiting to hear back on how that went.” And then maybe they could go from there with mending.

Staring out over the expanse, into greenery and blooms again, his eyes only motioned back to her on another snort, the inklings of what might have been a following grin. “Sorry not all regions can be so extravagant,” clearly meant to be a joke, but his brows knitted together again at her insinuation of that damned school. “A magic academy. Created by Zariah,” and he didn’t bother hiding his eyeroll at that offensive namesake. “When she died, it was passed onto her son. But it has not been in use since.” There’d been a multitude of times where he’d stared at it and contemplated burning the whole thing down out of spite and pettiness, but they all knew where those parameters tended to angle. “It was a bit marred by her reputation, and I do not know if it was operational anymore. But I cannot see why something like that could not be started again.” How many times had he taught, instructed, and wielded his incantations to educate his fellow Abandoned?

watch your body pull itself back together
then let your soul do the same

I'll leave my love hidden in the sun

Poking her tongue at him briefly for mocking her high standards of living, Seren let the jest slide and hummed thoughtfully as he explained about the school.
"That's an idea, yeah. Might be worth looking into it. Culture and art as well, even music - if the land itself doesn't attract everyone, then other things might still help draw them in. There is no seat of higher learning available to everyone - Stormbreak has a collegium, but it's barred to mages, just like the rest of the city." As for the Atheneum in the Grounds, the situation was similar, though the reluctance to enter that region might be different for some people.

Then she sighed. "Of course, we can plan anything we like - nothing can be implemented unless someone we trust holds the power of Halo. I don't want to create a draw for Morgan to utilize."

Rubbing at her eyes, Seren felt tired even though the sun had not even begun to set yet. It was a weight settling into her bones, a constant wear of troubled thoughts on subjects that never seemed to end and had no clear path towards resolution. So short was her time in the mortal world, and already she was longing for a break. It did not improve anything that she felt her lack of experience so very keenly. Books and history lessons only went so far in preparation for the realities they were facing here.

For when the darkness comes

SEREN

DEIMOS

ache first, but then let the cuts close
spit out the blood

He wrinkled his nose in return, but otherwise let the mischief sit and settle; a better mood then when they’d began, and he wasn’t diminished and falling from grand heights. Feet underneath him again, given a moment or two of rationality, tilting his head at the framework, the notions of culture and art in a world like Halo. He’d once thought of restarting the Artisan’s Guild there, to celebrate some manner of creation, to ensure people had a place to go to survey and request crafts; but had been uncertain of the interest. Music – he’d known several citizens (like Hester, or Glas) that seemed intent on such talents. As far as he was aware in all his time amidst the mountains, there’d been a library. And Aisha’s attempts at fostering monster hunting. So the beast nodded at the possibilities and fragments. “And with Whitebrim nearly destroyed, that could be a good place for it.” Learning, education, culture, instead of cannibals, death, and desecration.

But it wouldn’t matter, in the end, just as she said, if they didn’t hold it. Another sigh unfurled, chin resting in his palm, as he studied the world, as he listened, as he absorbed and strived to remain over the brimming frustration once more. “Nor do I.” So therein they circled and cycled back to the same problem. “I will have to see what Noah is willing to do as well,” another compatriot who would desperately want his home back. “And how many we can gather.” If anyone at all. And with that, it all seemed back on his shoulders and spine again. "But I have never been much for recruiting," uttered on a low rumble; memories of Helovia clashing and barring.

watch your body pull itself back together
then let your soul do the same

I'll leave my love hidden in the sun

For a moment, Seren allowed herself to dream, and her gaze warmed with the marvels they beheld. Fantastical structures and enchanted gardens, halls of splendour and comfort to host scholars and artists and craftsmen alike. A place brimming with activity, with art and culture, like a beacon of warmth and light in the dark Halo night.

But the return to reality came sooner than she would have liked, and with it the gloomy realization that such a thing was long in the making. There were more immediate concerns, and checking in with their friends was one of them. "I think you might surprise yourself," Seren suggested mildly. "Why don't you start with the people you already know, and people from Halo? And you might want to consider returning there yourself... If Whitebrim is not entirely destroyed it might be a good base of operations if you want to try influence things from within." She would be happy to help, but Deimos had more contacts here, and knew better where to turn.

"If I can help you, I will. Right now though, I need to deal with Stormbreak." Scowling faintly into the dirt by her feet, Seren scraped at the gravel with her heel. "They've been mistreating Abandoned. Doing awful things to children born with magic. Supposedly with the Old God's saction, but... I'm not sure I believe that. I'm at least going to look into it, and see what can be done."

For when the darkness comes

SEREN

DEIMOS

ache first, but then let the cuts close
spit out the blood

He listened, a tilt of his head in her direction, his eyes continually elsewhere, taking in the flora without actually paying attention to it. There in his senses, while his mind reeled away to other segments. He muffled a quiet snort once more at her declaration of surprising himself; he knew his charms were not for many, but at least it was somewhere to traverse and go without completely giving up. At the mentioning of returning straight to Whitebrim though, he arched his brow. “I believe they would notice something else starting up there,” especially a small pocket of rebellion and insurrection all over again. And it would probably be all the more tempting to snag and imprison him; given the opportunity and chance.

But those defiant, seditious little blades in the back of his mind conjured and pervaded.

The measures of Stormbreak, often not in his thoughts simply because he wasn’t permitted there, and it simply seemed to hold a prevailing amount of loathing, made his cranium eventually swivel towards her; the arch of his brow clear and distinct. Deimos had learnt of the contempt for Abandoned before – from her – but not about any children. “What do you mean? What is going on?” Persecution after persecution?

watch your body pull itself back together
then let your soul do the same

I'll leave my love hidden in the sun

Seren shrugged; that was his decision to make. She was distracted from the topic of Halo by his question, demanding elaboration. For a moment, the demigod gazed at his face, assessing the risks and benefits of adding to his burdens with another problem. He couldn't do much, not barred from the city as he was.

But maybe that was a good thing. Maybe another set of eyes might help her solve this issue.

"Abandoned children are identified before birth, and delivered in a way that ensure they don't survive. Then they are discarded." Short and concise; her distaste and outrage unmasked here. "According to a priest it's the will of the gods. I... don't accept that. I'm going to look into things and see what can be done to change this."

A conversation with her mother long overdue, while other people were consulted... It was not the kind of thing you solved with swords.

For when the darkness comes

SEREN

DEIMOS

ache first, but then let the cuts close
spit out the blood

With Halo pushed aside, for now, as it would likely always remain an ever-present thing in his mind, he turned his attention towards being a listening ear, a sounding board, stolen back into silence and quiet.

But her words weren’t what he expected – Abandoned children identified, and then diminished, discarded, murdered. It sent something rigid down the course of his spine – anger, most likely, a coldblooded, malevolent thing in the piercing depths of his eyes, in the rigid distinction of his jaw, fingers curling back in on each other in tight fists. “If it was the will of the gods, why has it not happened anywhere else?” Where the deities touched and lingered? Had it been because the heralds had been clustered behind the barrier, the same as the rest of them? Did it appeal to ancient practices simply because they were archaic, contemptuous beings? Or had these similar situations occurred, and they were simply ignorant of them?

A long, slow, unwinding breath conquered his chest, and then extended into the air, striving to grant himself some reprieve. “Have you talked to your mother about it?” Or anyone else for that matter – how to unravel disgusting, disturbing practices from primordial lives?

watch your body pull itself back together
then let your soul do the same

I'll leave my love hidden in the sun

She nodded. "Exactly. I wonder if this isn't the Order taking things to extremes on their own... While I know that the gods don't care much about magic users, it's a long step from ignoring someone to actively exterminating them." Twisting words, misinterpreting the intent and purpose... and it could even be something as crass as convenience, in the case of Stormbreak. Where else would they put people of magic, when there was no space for them within the city?

His inquiry about Safrin had Seren shaking her head. "Not yet. I had a quest I wanted to complete first... and I had to gather up some courage." Said in a soft sigh, the dread and worry a living thing in her eyes. If the goddess did condone this... could Seren still love her the same? It was too much to forgive. All those innocents...
"I did reach out to Phoebe about it. Frey's demigod. And I've talked to Maeve... so she wouldn't go to the city. Others too..." Harper, Ronin, Sah, in different timelines and so far the consensus was the same. "I think we need the gods' views on the matter first. Without that, we'll just be brushed aside."

Gideon's condescending attitude towards her still rankled, enough to make her fists ball up angrily in her lap.

For when the darkness comes

SEREN

DEIMOS

ache first, but then let the cuts close
spit out the blood

No matter what he’d heard of the Order, nothing had been good. Their stances seemed, at least he hoped, outliers in the scheme of things. While a majority of the heralds and deities had been quite vocal in their contempt for Ascended, he hadn’t heard anything more than the general distaste of Abandoned; and even then, for those much like himself, viewpoints could eventually be altered. Safrin, at the very least, seemed willing to accept those intending to step into her orbit. He hadn’t heard of any prejudices from Frey, and had wandered forth in Ludo’s presence as well, without cause for concern except when he over-extended his reach. “And those wanting to become hybrids have not had an issue,” he recalled; brows furrowing once more. “It would be easy enough for them to wipe out any Abandoned who wandered up to a shrine.” Peculiar and bizarre. “Do you believe many citizens of Stormbreak share the same opinion?” A widely accepted claim? Something they didn’t want to bother with?

That she hadn’t gone to Safrin yet wasn’t surprising; he had his own misgivings lately, with recent upheavals. But the Sword gave a simplistic nod in reference to the notion, not pushing the matter. Consulting with others, getting some sort of threshold behind her before making any other nuances was a start. And the deities themselves another. Calmer now that he had machinations and calculations in front of him, he continued to ponder out loud. “What did they have to say?”

watch your body pull itself back together
then let your soul do the same

I'll leave my love hidden in the sun

"I think," Seren mused with a wrinkle marring the smooth skin of her forehead, "that it might be a case of habitual neglect for the majority. They could be so used to the idea that a magical child is a dead child that they don't bother to seek other alternatives. Or are otherwise unable to. Not everyone can uproot and move an entire family, though I'm sure some really do."

As for those she had spoken to - Seren shook her head, unable to say much. "Nothing definitive yet. But I think I have support enough, if I can only decide on a course of action. There is no changing the wards of Stormbreak, they're built into every part of the city. But... maybe... No, I don't know. I have to think this over more." It was a big thing she was trying to change, and it would not be the kind of responsibility she could simply shrug off afterward.

Looking up at Deimos, Seren managed a little smile. "Can I count on you, too? If my ideas become reality, I might need some extra hands." To build things, or hold babies, or defend them - she couldn't say which, just yet.

For when the darkness comes

SEREN

DEIMOS

ache first, but then let the cuts close
spit out the blood

A semblance of complacency – used to the factors, to the traditional roles, the way things had always been. Sometimes customs, practices, and conventions made sense; sometimes the observances had become primeval and disastrous things, as multitudes of people grew, changed, altered, and evolved. What happened when worlds and lands didn’t adapt with them?

He might’ve snorted at the way her brows furrowed if the topic wasn’t so serious – waging a little narrowing of his eyes as he stared at the ground. His speculations could only go so far – with no access to Stormbreak (and quite frankly it didn’t sound like a place he’d enjoy anyway); but her discernments seemed to cease. The Sword mustered half a smile, and probably a snort, at her inquiry. “Depends on what your ideas are.” Cautious even more so now, considering the amount of trials and tribulations he’d already placed upon his shoulders.

watch your body pull itself back together
then let your soul do the same