[ 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.
[ There's much that he doesn't understand here. A weapon exists to serve as an extension of its master. For Pyra to claim so much humanity to the extent of turning away from her very purpose, did her father mean for this to happen, too? Why create a weapon that doesn't want to be wielded? It just doesn't make sense. ]
....Not the "me" as you know now. And not Mythra, either.
[ She hesitates, lowering her gaze from him. ]
We were... without our humanity or emotions back then. [ Truly, just a tool.
She stops her tale here, feeling that she's said enough. Besides, there is something that's been weighing more heavily on her mind. The bond they have is deeper than it's ever been, but it's twisted and strained. Even she knows it; connected as they are, she has a better understanding of him. He's not the same as he had once been, and she wonders if she is the reason for it. ]
Would it be easier for you to wield us, if we were without our humanity?
[ Of course. A weapon that simply obeys versus one that rejects its purpose should in theory be easier to wield. But it'll do either of them no good to dwell on this now.
Pyra and Mythra both began to behave oddly after he claimed them. If they were really emotionless back then, did the previous prince have a similar influence over them? And what's this about another self? Just how many—never mind.
He waves. ]
I've already wielded you once without trouble. With or without humanity, it doesn't matter to me.
[ She shakes her head. ] As I mentioned, he was hesitant. That hesitation led to... [ Problems.
It's not as if Addam had originally wanted to wield her to begin with. He was put into a mess of a political situation, where all he actually wishes to do is return to lands away from the capital... ]
It led to him not being able to use my power effectively. [ Problems. ] Being with you feels... very different. Of course we won't actually know for certain until we fight together again.
[ Her gaze keeps upon her folded hands, recalling the last time they fought together. Is he displeased? Actually, his whole mood has seemed off lately-- ]
...It won't happen again, I assure you. I will be... happy to fight alongside you in the future.
[ Fighting with him... she'll be glad for it. They must be one. ]
A wry smile faintly graces her lips; she raises her eyes. Yes, yes, she knows he means that figuratively speaking, and at best he means it dismissively-- that she can feel whatever she feels, so long as it doesn't impede him being able to use her. He cares, she thinks... so long as it benefits him.
Still. ] Your words are comforting.... But I have no heart.
[ She admits it so easily in spite of all the emotions she expresses. If not a heart, then what is it that sets her apart from other blades? More importantly, is that knowledge important for him to have?
Berkut leans back in his seat. ]
You're sharper than that. Surely you know what I mean.
....You know I can feel it. [ She taps her crystal upon her chest. ] Our connection.
[ As much as he might feel hers. Nothing strong, but just enough to give each other some pause that something isn't quite right. An unease of sorts. She dares to prod further: ]
Rest assured, I shall cut down whatever stands in our way with your blade. [ He huffs mirthfully. ] I don't have much of a choice if I desire a sharp edge.
[ His lance is broken, and everything else here is rusted or dull. ]
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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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[ There's much that he doesn't understand here. A weapon exists to serve as an extension of its master. For Pyra to claim so much humanity to the extent of turning away from her very purpose, did her father mean for this to happen, too? Why create a weapon that doesn't want to be wielded? It just doesn't make sense. ]
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[ She hesitates, lowering her gaze from him. ]
We were... without our humanity or emotions back then. [ Truly, just a tool.
She stops her tale here, feeling that she's said enough. Besides, there is something that's been weighing more heavily on her mind. The bond they have is deeper than it's ever been, but it's twisted and strained. Even she knows it; connected as they are, she has a better understanding of him. He's not the same as he had once been, and she wonders if she is the reason for it. ]
Would it be easier for you to wield us, if we were without our humanity?
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Pyra and Mythra both began to behave oddly after he claimed them. If they were really emotionless back then, did the previous prince have a similar influence over them? And what's this about another self? Just how many—never mind.
He waves. ]
I've already wielded you once without trouble. With or without humanity, it doesn't matter to me.
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Indeed, he picked her up like it was nothing. It's almost scary. Addam could have never--
... ] Lord Berkut.
[ She pauses hesitantly. ] You... wield my power easily. It's almost astounding.
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Was this not the case with your previous wielder?
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It's not as if Addam had originally wanted to wield her to begin with. He was put into a mess of a political situation, where all he actually wishes to do is return to lands away from the capital... ]
It led to him not being able to use my power effectively. [ Problems. ] Being with you feels... very different. Of course we won't actually know for certain until we fight together again.
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You didn't seem so thrilled the last time.
[ And the first, he notes. Loath though he is to admit it, even if just to himself, her expression at the time haunts his recent memory. ]
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...It won't happen again, I assure you. I will be... happy to fight alongside you in the future.
[ Fighting with him... she'll be glad for it. They must be one. ]
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[ A wielder shouldn't have to worry about the feelings of a weapon in the first place. Those who will be hers to feel. ]
So long as I'm able to wield you then, I have no complaints. Your heart is yours.
[ If she even has one, being what she is. ]
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A wry smile faintly graces her lips; she raises her eyes. Yes, yes, she knows he means that figuratively speaking, and at best he means it dismissively-- that she can feel whatever she feels, so long as it doesn't impede him being able to use her. He cares, she thinks... so long as it benefits him.
Still. ] Your words are comforting.... But I have no heart.
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Berkut leans back in his seat. ]
You're sharper than that. Surely you know what I mean.
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It's just that it's a rather nice thing to hear you say. [ Unexpected, really. That he at least acknowledges she has a "heart". ]
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Does Mythra feel the same?
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[
Mythra thinks he should throw himself into the lake! With full armor!]Yes, she thinks the same.
But we both are wondering how you are faring, being bound to us.
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As you can see, I'm faring just fine.
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[ As much as he might feel hers. Nothing strong, but just enough to give each other some pause that something isn't quite right. An unease of sorts. She dares to prod further: ]
Is... something bothering you, Lord Berkut?
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That's of no concern to you. It is nothing I cannot handle.
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We are connected.
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[ In the past, these words would have been accompanied by a scowl. This time around, Berkut's outward affect is decidedly neutral. ]
Whatever it is that you're sensing, pay it no mind.
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Her answer comes out as a rasp, ] Am I not that heir's weapon? Whatever it is that troubles you... allow me to cut it from this world.
[ Cut herself out from being a thorn in his side yeah okay whoooosh. Someone tell her that she's the problem. ]
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Rest assured, I shall cut down whatever stands in our way with your blade. [ He huffs mirthfully. ] I don't have much of a choice if I desire a sharp edge.
[ His lance is broken, and everything else here is rusted or dull. ]
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"I don't have much of a choice"... and said with a smile at that. ]
...Ah, is... is that it? You would rather... not use me, if you could?
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