No . . . I would rather that you attend to yours first.
[ Is it a thinly veiled attempt at discouraging her from following, or is it really an encouragement to do what she should? Maybe it's both. As someone who would never abandon his duty, he shouldn't encourage otherwise in others. ]
[ Attending to hers basically means... well, it’s a death sentence— either she will be used to destroy the world, or she will return to her father and beg for her own destruction. ]
Knowing what I’ve told you [ Of rending the word. ] ...you would still wish for me to return to my world?
Destroying the world, she said, is her privilege as an instrument of control. She resembles an executioner who keeps her blade sharpened, awaiting the day she must inevitably cleave her ward despite her wish to abstain from such violence. Her Father has entrusted her with a weighty task, and who is Berkut to take her away from it? ]
If it comes down to your sundering the land and there is nowhere left to go, you may find me. I shall bring you to Rigel Castle myself.
[ For her part in saving his life—not that he'll ever admit it—he will grant her that haven. ]
[ It seems like a compromise of sorts... if it weren’t for the fact that he seems to be completely fine with her potentially dooming her own world.
She stares at him for a moment longer. ]
How... strange... [ She murmurs, blinking as if she’s looking at a puzzle or sorts. ] You—... do not demand complete [ Adherence? Obedience? ] loyalty to you, but instead would want me to fulfill my duty to Father first.
[ It seems her bond with him makes her understand him a little better, but not completely. She recognizes her error then and there. ]
[ This time, he stares at her for a much briefer moment before exhaling audibly. The strange one is her, not him. ]
You have much to learn if you think loyalty can be demanded.
[ And he leaves it at that. As for her duty to her father, that's for Pyra to figure out. The future of her world is no business of his, and he doubts the people living in it will take any catastrophic developments lying down. He's got his own share of gods to deal with in Valentia . . . ]
Pyra and Mythra... want so desperately to do something right. They also, despite knowing what they must to do ensure the safety in their world, want to exist. Despite the circumstances of being bound to Berkut, he accepts their power and gives them a purpose. It's scraps-- scraps of feeling like she's doing something good, that they are worth something to another. The only one who has told her to live for herself had broken her heart, the one that told her to look to the future had dismissed her.
Being tied to Berkut like this... is the only happiness she's known in a long while.
"Happiness". ]
...How am I to protect you, if I am not with you? [ Sure, he is more than capable of fending for himself. But her eyes drift to the repaired shoulder of his armor. Do such creatures exist in his world, where their power is far greater than that of a man's? ]
[ She sounds so sincere and desperate, as though she craves his validation. A weapon is meant to be wielded, after all. But the weapon of a god ought to have more self-esteem than this, and he notes her fixation on protecting rather than attacking.
What does he know, anyway? And what does the rest of the worlds think of a non-pious man wielding the Architect's daughter?
Berkut's hand comes up to touch his armored shoulder. Did she not repair this in order to protect him in the event that she isn't there? He needed the fix, so he'd allowed it. ]
I am Rigel's proudest son, as well as the heir to the imperial throne. If I cannot defend myself, I am unworthy of claiming to be either. My world may have its gods and Terrors, but extraordinary beings like you don't exist there . . . to my knowledge, anyway. [ His voice takes on a higher pitch of apathy. ] Your concern should lie in ensuring that your strength doesn't go to waste.
[ He willingly wears armor when he knows his flesh is weak and human, but he begrudges having to rely on her inhuman power. It seems that, perhaps, he doesn't completely see her as a weapon...?
She's not entirely sure. ] My strength is yours.
[ Waste, he says. She's often asked this to others in Chroma: what good is power, if it cannot protect? Mythra had an instinct to smite, to destroy by calling down the power of the heavens in rays of light. She had to learn that it could be used for something other than destroying... ]
[ That strength belongs to whoever wields her. It doesn't have to be him; however, for the time being, it is. A weapon is useless without a master, is it? ]
Then I will use it for as long as we remain in this world.
[ The fact also remains that he isn't her rightful owner. ]
[ He is generous, she thinks: one, for him to offer that should she finish her duties in her world and find her way to his, he’ll take her into his castle. And two, that he will use her here....
It’s more than she can ever ask for. What more can do do for him, than attempt to make him proud to wield her? She had never gained Addam’s pride, not when he never wanted to awaken her to begin with.
She relents: ] ...Thank you.
[ A bow of her head, and then she lifts her gaze to meet his. ] You’re... kind, Lord Berkut. I hope I may satisfy you.
On another day, he might have protested her adjective of choice for him. Kindness is just another word for vulnerability. People would sooner walk all over a kind person than return that kindness, and he refuses to become that person.
He thinks of Rinea then, and his heart grows heavy. But his tone as he meets Pyra's gaze before turning away is light. ]
He would only say that if he had some wish, or at least some minor curiosity, to know more... ] That is... correct.
[ Her hands lower to her sides. ] The first one who wielded me...
He was a prince like you. [ Rather, not like him at all. She parts her lips to say more, but then decides against it, not knowing if Berkut is truly interested in her tale or not. ]
[ That another prince would come by the weapon of a creator—made to exert control over the world and, by extension, the prince in it—strikes him as strange. (Then again, everything about Pyra is strange.) ]
...The ability to fell another like me. My brother.
[ Another pause. It seems like he's interested in learning more; it's ironic, that he learns this now, instead of when they had been both enchanted by the flowers. ]
I... can tell you more, but [ She looks around them-- to the couch, and then back to him, still fully clad in his new armor. ] It would take time. [ They should sit down and chat and he doesn't need to wear his armor for this!
But if he doesn't wish to know more, this is where the topic ends. ]
[ Although she's grown considerably dull in recent days, there are times like now when she's still so expressive. That's a good thing, he tells himself.
A brother, eh? As for time, it's— ]
Something I have more than enough of these days.
[ He motions her over to the couch while he starts on stripping the newly repaired armor. ]
Come, sit down and entertain me. I should like to know if it is the immutable fate of sibling deities to quarrel, no matter the world.
[ Taking her place upon the couch, she folds her hands in her lap, crossing her thumbs over each other. Immutable fate of sibling deities, he says... does he have such deities in his world that fight?
In any case, she's not sure how her story would be entertaining, considering it's not exactly fun to hear-- or to tell. Nevertheless, she will do her best to alleviate his boredom, the typical blasé with which he speaks. ]
My brother and I-- [ Pyra, being far more imbued with humanity than Mythra had ever been, refers to Malos as her brother, whereas Mythra and Malos refer to each other as partners, having been a part of the same entity long ago. But she stops then, deicing to redo the start of her story. ] Long ago, an ambitious mortal man climbed the World Tree to seek the Architect. He did not find the Architect, [ A pause. ] but us instead.
He stole us from our pedestal-- [ She hesitates, then shakes her head, amending her words. ] No, he...-- Father allowed us to be taken by him. [ If the Architect truly did not wish them to leave the World Tree, he would have prevented it. That is how Mythra and Pyra knows it to be. There is nothing that escapes the Architect's eyes. ] That man brought us to the earth.
He awakened my brother first... No one knew at the time, but with that man's hatred of the world imbued into him, my brother sought to destroy the Titans. Most thought him to have broken away from his weilder, but that's not how we work.
The year was 3564. As soon as he awakened, the kingdom of Coeia fell overnight... and its continent sank below the cloud-sea. It had shocked all of Alrest. Officially, the kingdom's fall was attributed the combined fleet of Indol and the emerging power of Mor Ardain.
[ Toward the end of the history lesson, Berkut has shed his armor and come over to join Pyra at the couch. He doesn't sit down yet.
What a mess, he thinks, and not in regards to his attempt at keeping all these names straight. Weapons with awareness certainly are capable of great damage if left unchecked. An entire kingdom, gone. Was it the man's plan to let her brother go on a rampage all along? If so, Berkut has his suspicions about Pyra's part in this. And what of the Architect? ]
How did this prince come by you if you were in that man's possession?
[ For that answer... she has her suspicions, things she’s fought over for the last five hundred years. ]
That man... Amalthus, was a high-ranking acolyte for the Praetorium. No one else knew that he had awakened my brother save for a select few. He had told us it was a mistake to awaken my brother, and he... claimed he wished to undo his mistake. [ She shakes her head. ] But there was no doubt in my mind he had other motivations.
Perhaps handing me over to a prince only further secured the Praetoriun’s influence over the kingdom with the front that the gift had been done in good will.... while simultaneously destabilizing the line of succession. The prince who awakened me was a bastard, while his older half-brother, the crown prince, did not have the aptitude to claim me as his blade. The Praetorium could have easily exerted more power over the kingdom because of it, claimed its resources, and so on, perhaps, to secure its position as Mor Adrain grew as an empire.
[ She draws a breath. All of those politics aside... she knows it’s just a pretense. ]
But more likely... Amalthus had just wanted to see the destruction that would happen, should us siblings war. And he did.
[ She stops then and there, looking down at her hands. Fingers still laced together, her knuckles are taught. ]
[ All politics are a pretense. For some reason, men of crooked faith seem especially enamored with playing the game.
Silence falls between them while Berkut seats himself in a chair across Pyra. It hasn't escaped his notice that she doesn't seem to be enjoying reliving the memory. Of course not. She eschews violence.
Maybe this is why.
Flippantly, he throws in his two cents. ]
Perhaps your father wished for the end of the world, after all.
[ It’s laughably tragic, how Berkut is privileged to know this of her. ] He already had, once. Long ago.
[ As for now... what Father wishes for, she’s not so sure anymore. All she knows is that when having first awakened, Mythra had such a incline towards destruction and apathy to humans that it certainly did seem as if the Architect didn’t care for this version of the world, either. ]
But... if he is to bring about another end, I do not wish to be its mechanism.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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[ Is it a thinly veiled attempt at discouraging her from following, or is it really an encouragement to do what she should? Maybe it's both. As someone who would never abandon his duty, he shouldn't encourage otherwise in others. ]
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Knowing what I’ve told you [ Of rending the word. ] ...you would still wish for me to return to my world?
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Destroying the world, she said, is her privilege as an instrument of control. She resembles an executioner who keeps her blade sharpened, awaiting the day she must inevitably cleave her ward despite her wish to abstain from such violence. Her Father has entrusted her with a weighty task, and who is Berkut to take her away from it? ]
If it comes down to your sundering the land and there is nowhere left to go, you may find me. I shall bring you to Rigel Castle myself.
[ For her part in saving his life—not that he'll ever admit it—he will grant her that haven. ]
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She stares at him for a moment longer. ]
How... strange... [ She murmurs, blinking as if she’s looking at a puzzle or sorts. ] You—... do not demand complete [ Adherence? Obedience? ] loyalty to you, but instead would want me to fulfill my duty to Father first.
[ It seems her bond with him makes her understand him a little better, but not completely. She recognizes her error then and there. ]
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You have much to learn if you think loyalty can be demanded.
[ And he leaves it at that. As for her duty to her father, that's for Pyra to figure out. The future of her world is no business of his, and he doubts the people living in it will take any catastrophic developments lying down. He's got his own share of gods to deal with in Valentia . . . ]
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[ Her gaze lowers.
Pyra and Mythra... want so desperately to do something right. They also, despite knowing what they must to do ensure the safety in their world, want to exist. Despite the circumstances of being bound to Berkut, he accepts their power and gives them a purpose. It's scraps-- scraps of feeling like she's doing something good, that they are worth something to another. The only one who has told her to live for herself had broken her heart, the one that told her to look to the future had dismissed her.
Being tied to Berkut like this... is the only happiness she's known in a long while.
"Happiness". ]
...How am I to protect you, if I am not with you? [ Sure, he is more than capable of fending for himself. But her eyes drift to the repaired shoulder of his armor. Do such creatures exist in his world, where their power is far greater than that of a man's? ]
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What does he know, anyway? And what does the rest of the worlds think of a non-pious man wielding the Architect's daughter?
Berkut's hand comes up to touch his armored shoulder. Did she not repair this in order to protect him in the event that she isn't there? He needed the fix, so he'd allowed it. ]
I am Rigel's proudest son, as well as the heir to the imperial throne. If I cannot defend myself, I am unworthy of claiming to be either. My world may have its gods and Terrors, but extraordinary beings like you don't exist there . . . to my knowledge, anyway. [ His voice takes on a higher pitch of apathy. ] Your concern should lie in ensuring that your strength doesn't go to waste.
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She's not entirely sure. ] My strength is yours.
[ Waste, he says. She's often asked this to others in Chroma: what good is power, if it cannot protect? Mythra had an instinct to smite, to destroy by calling down the power of the heavens in rays of light. She had to learn that it could be used for something other than destroying... ]
It would be a waste to... not use it for you.
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Then I will use it for as long as we remain in this world.
[ The fact also remains that he isn't her rightful owner. ]
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It’s more than she can ever ask for. What more can do do for him, than attempt to make him proud to wield her? She had never gained Addam’s pride, not when he never wanted to awaken her to begin with.
She relents: ] ...Thank you.
[ A bow of her head, and then she lifts her gaze to meet his. ] You’re... kind, Lord Berkut. I hope I may satisfy you.
[ That her strength will be enough for him. ]
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On another day, he might have protested her adjective of choice for him. Kindness is just another word for vulnerability. People would sooner walk all over a kind person than return that kindness, and he refuses to become that person.
He thinks of Rinea then, and his heart grows heavy. But his tone as he meets Pyra's gaze before turning away is light. ]
You already have.
1/3
!! ]
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...I'm pleased to hear that.
[ The shy smile carries in her voice. ] You...
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[ She repeats: ] Thank you.
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What a curious thing to say. He decides to test the waters. ]
But I am not your first wielder.
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He would only say that if he had some wish, or at least some minor curiosity, to know more... ] That is... correct.
[ Her hands lower to her sides. ] The first one who wielded me...
He was a prince like you. [ Rather, not like him at all. She parts her lips to say more, but then decides against it, not knowing if Berkut is truly interested in her tale or not. ]
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What did he hope to gain by using your power?
1/2
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...The ability to fell another like me. My brother.
[ Another pause. It seems like he's interested in learning more; it's ironic, that he learns this now, instead of when they had been both enchanted by the flowers. ]
I... can tell you more, but [ She looks around them-- to the couch, and then back to him, still fully clad in his new armor. ] It would take time. [ They should sit down and chat and he doesn't need to wear his armor for this!
But if he doesn't wish to know more, this is where the topic ends. ]
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A brother, eh? As for time, it's— ]
Something I have more than enough of these days.
[ He motions her over to the couch while he starts on stripping the newly repaired armor. ]
Come, sit down and entertain me. I should like to know if it is the immutable fate of sibling deities to quarrel, no matter the world.
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In any case, she's not sure how her story would be entertaining, considering it's not exactly fun to hear-- or to tell. Nevertheless, she will do her best to alleviate his boredom, the typical blasé with which he speaks. ]
My brother and I-- [ Pyra, being far more imbued with humanity than Mythra had ever been, refers to Malos as her brother, whereas Mythra and Malos refer to each other as partners, having been a part of the same entity long ago. But she stops then, deicing to redo the start of her story. ] Long ago, an ambitious mortal man climbed the World Tree to seek the Architect. He did not find the Architect, [ A pause. ] but us instead.
He stole us from our pedestal-- [ She hesitates, then shakes her head, amending her words. ] No, he...-- Father allowed us to be taken by him. [ If the Architect truly did not wish them to leave the World Tree, he would have prevented it. That is how Mythra and Pyra knows it to be. There is nothing that escapes the Architect's eyes. ] That man brought us to the earth.
He awakened my brother first... No one knew at the time, but with that man's hatred of the world imbued into him, my brother sought to destroy the Titans. Most thought him to have broken away from his weilder, but that's not how we work.
The year was 3564. As soon as he awakened, the kingdom of Coeia fell overnight... and its continent sank below the cloud-sea. It had shocked all of Alrest. Officially, the kingdom's fall was attributed the combined fleet of Indol and the emerging power of Mor Ardain.
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What a mess, he thinks, and not in regards to his attempt at keeping all these names straight. Weapons with awareness certainly are capable of great damage if left unchecked. An entire kingdom, gone. Was it the man's plan to let her brother go on a rampage all along? If so, Berkut has his suspicions about Pyra's part in this. And what of the Architect? ]
How did this prince come by you if you were in that man's possession?
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That man... Amalthus, was a high-ranking acolyte for the Praetorium. No one else knew that he had awakened my brother save for a select few. He had told us it was a mistake to awaken my brother, and he... claimed he wished to undo his mistake. [ She shakes her head. ] But there was no doubt in my mind he had other motivations.
Perhaps handing me over to a prince only further secured the Praetoriun’s influence over the kingdom with the front that the gift had been done in good will.... while simultaneously destabilizing the line of succession. The prince who awakened me was a bastard, while his older half-brother, the crown prince, did not have the aptitude to claim me as his blade. The Praetorium could have easily exerted more power over the kingdom because of it, claimed its resources, and so on, perhaps, to secure its position as Mor Adrain grew as an empire.
[ She draws a breath. All of those politics aside... she knows it’s just a pretense. ]
But more likely... Amalthus had just wanted to see the destruction that would happen, should us siblings war. And he did.
[ She stops then and there, looking down at her hands. Fingers still laced together, her knuckles are taught. ]
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Silence falls between them while Berkut seats himself in a chair across Pyra. It hasn't escaped his notice that she doesn't seem to be enjoying reliving the memory. Of course not. She eschews violence.
Maybe this is why.
Flippantly, he throws in his two cents. ]
Perhaps your father wished for the end of the world, after all.
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[ As for now... what Father wishes for, she’s not so sure anymore. All she knows is that when having first awakened, Mythra had such a incline towards destruction and apathy to humans that it certainly did seem as if the Architect didn’t care for this version of the world, either. ]
But... if he is to bring about another end, I do not wish to be its mechanism.
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