Completed [The Temple of All Gods] You've Got Mail

[Fallon]

76th Spring 513AV,
Midday, 12th Bell

For a while Fallon had been minding her own business, her journal in one hands, her other tucked away in her pocket. She had been looking for a slightly more isolated location to set herself down to read. What it was however she had yet to discover, all she knew is that it was a letter that had been dropped off in the early morning by a runner. She could still feel the rough parchment on her fingers, the faint scent of a heavy ink resting upon it. For the moment however she had it tucked in the front of her journal, the edges barely poking out.

Fallon peered around the corridor that she had marched herself down, before dipping down another. Syliras was a closed in maze to say the least, but that did not deter her to simply stop and open it. Fallon rarely got letters, so receiving one suggested that it must at least be important and read in a more secluded setting. When she came to the Temple of All Gods however, she slipped in taking advantage of the near silence that had consumed it. She paced down between the pews, eyes darting about, checking for signs of life before she slid into one behind one of the supporting pillars. Once more she checked about herself, before slipping her finger underneath the wax seal and opening it.

My dear, dear Fallon.


It seems you have been hiding but at last I have found you. I know where you are so I am writing this letter to you. I am watching you and soon we shall have the joy of playing a game all over again.


-Vick
Isikai Vino Nader Zapatl

It was words Fallon knew well, or more specifically the person. She tensed, her fingers gripping tightly to the page. She felt her jaw tighten, her eyes staring down at the ink in disbelief. She wanted to deny it, she wanted to deny what was before her. It was not before long that her gloves were ripped off and her Lykata gave a glow.
It has to be a trick right? It isn't real! Just a sick joke!

She trembled slightly as she tried to calm her mind to a focus. Letting herself get controlled by emotions would only hinder the process and stop the truth from escaping. She inhaled deeply, swallowing her fears for only a chime before she narrowed down to the letter. An image flared up in her mind, a strong feeling pulsing through her. She swallowed and trembled as those dead eyes clung to her mind for a while, those same dead eyes that had held her in place those years before.

Fear was a cruel state to exist within, it caused the mind to be irrational and unthinking, it prevented the flow of logic and the correct method in which to deal with the problem. But as Fallon simply sat there, the letter discarded at her feet, her head held in her hands. She had become convoluted, a mass of confusion and fears that was too complex for her to keep up with. Her eyes clenched shut, and she descended into her own maddening nightmare.

Isikai Vino Nader Zapatl.
To trust in the child, for what we share is a legacy.

[Isolde Seibold]

The Nuit found herself frowning. It was odd. That was what kept coming back to Isolde's mind. It was was simply odd, and perhaps a bit sad, too.

Isolde had come here with the intention of unearthing the prayer --the request, really-- that she had felt buried somewhere deep inside her heart. She knew it was there; it was a very dear thing, and needed to be said aloud, needed to be asked. But she had not been able to. She had come here with the sole purpose of seeking Tavasi, but had not been able to find him. When she had been young --when she had been alive-- he had always been with her, there, inside of her, in her mind, in her soul, in her love and her ambitions. Now she couldn't even go about finding him. Not even here, not even in this place that was created for the purpose of bringing one closer to the gods. Not even here.

It really was odd. And quite a bit sad. She found herself sighing.

A soft noise caught at her ears, and the Nuit turned her head. She was surprised. There was a girl in here, a newcomer. Isolde had been lurking in the Temple for a couple days now, seeking her god, preparing herself for the other things that she would soon set off to do. She had seen a lot of different people come and go. Some had been shining with happiness, others dark and grief-stricken. Or at least, that was what the Nuit had thought as she had looked into their passing faces. None of them, however, none had looked like this girl. This girl --this young woman holding the paper tightly in her hands-- looked as if she had seen a ghost.

Or-- or perhaps. Perhaps a memory. The girl had a certain look about her eyes. Isolde had grown so terrible at reading emotions, but this one seemed simple enough. This one she could understand. Isolde had spent years with the same look about her. Haunted. Sick with memory. She supposed she still looked that way, herself.

Despite her aversion to starting things with people --she was as afraid, as wary of most people as they seemed to be of her-- Isolde found herself drifting closer to the girl. The girl was just so different than everyone else who came here. The others had seemed to come here to gather peace, to draw the feeling of this place around their shoulders and leave with it, like it could help them face the future. Perhaps even Isolde had come here with that intention-- though there had been her secret request, that hidden prayer within her, as well. This girl hadn't seemed to come here for anything. And then she had opened that paper. And then she had gotten that familiar look. And Isolde had found herself drawn over by the girl's expression.

Suddenly the Nuit found herself standing over the girl, a bit to the side. She was a bit bemused by how... forward she was being. Apparently this place made Isolde unlike herself-- unlike the person she had become. Words dropped out of her mouth, intended to be low and gentle in this place of worship. "Is-- well, I mean-- is-- is everything-- alright?" The words came out a bit rougher around the edges than she intended, and a bit disjointed; she hadn't spoken to someone in a long, long time.

[Fallon]

She remained like this for a while, wrapped within her own thoughts. Her fingers tightened around her skull, her mind turning into one of a blur. She felt her pulse quicken, worry consuming as she raced through her mind searching for a plan and an answer to this problem. Fallon did not notice the approach of the other, or at least not until they had spoken. She gave a flinch, her eyes opening that crack. The floor welcomed her as she returned her mind to reality, her nostrils flaring as she took in deep breaths. A response was needed, and in order to respond she would need to compose herself. Swallowing the girl forced herself to answer.
“I’m fine thank you,” she managed to turn her head up to the speaker

For a moment she looked alarmed, eyes widening slightly at the nuit. A flicker of fear existed there, a brief ring of panic racing to her mind, before it snuffed itself out. Just as quickly as it came did it vanish once more, only to be replaced by a sense of hardening. The eyes narrowed, the lips pursing together as she tried to calm herself, her head turned away and looked down once more to the floor and the discarded letter that rested at her feet. For a moment she simply stared at it, before reaching down her slender fingers to pick it up. They folded it, and she exhaled a heavy drawn out sigh as her mind calmed “Yes… yes… I’m alright. I’m fine… thank you.”

Calm Fallon, calm. It isn’t him… you’re fine. Safe. Calm, she gave a blink and slid the letter into the front of her journal. She turned her head once more up at the Nuit, a sense of wariness hanging there. The letter and this appearance of this woman had indeed thrown her, it sent her throwing up her mental walls and searching for even the slightest hint of things being amiss, She means no harm, right?
She forced a smile, before looking away once more. She was far from alright, she was far from calm. What would she have normally done? Well she would of dropped everything and run away, she would of stormed out of the temple, packed her things and gone without a word. She would have run and would have kept running even when her legs screamed for stop, when her body ached for rest, until she was broken and her escape had indeed been confirmed. Only then would she have stopped. But she could not run, not this time. She had signed herself up to something unbreakable and that she could not turn her back onto.

[Isolde Seibold]

What was the matter with that paper? The girl seemed to dislike it --at least that was what the Nuit surmised-- but she still picked it up off the floor where she had dropped it. She had apparently decided to keep the paper, tucking it into the worn book she was holding. But... why? If she didn't like it, why would she keep it? The Nuit found the girl's possessive actions towards the paper --and whatever was written on it-- quite strange. She could understand holding onto things. A bit of writing on paper, though? She just couldn't understand. Especially since the paper seemed to affect the girl so strongly. There were things that Isolde held dear that were very painful for her-- namely, her memories. Hurtful or bitter memories were something to be held close, protected, reviewed, regretted. But memories, too, were something a person couldn't escape, so it was better to embrace them. This paper, it was something that could be easily burned and forgotten. So why was the girl keeping it?

Before she realized what she was doing, the Nuit had leaned closer. Her curiosity seemed to pull her towards the girl, though her wariness of others --and especially of that hard look around the girl's eyes-- told her to keep back. But it had gotten hard to control such impulses for the Nuit. She had gotten used to feeling only certain things over the long years, or nothing at all. Her emotions had fallen into a pattern that repeated and repeated, beating within the Nuit like the tides on the shore. Now that she was active again, the less-familiar emotions seemed to swim back to the surface. Not only that, but they came with a vengeance, as if angry they had been so long forgotten. Curiosity was one of the hardest ones to deal with. Curiosity could cause such distractions, and generally the Nuit became interested in things that would most probably get her into trouble.

This girl and her letter, for instance.

Still, the Nuit's mouth moved to form words, which mumbled out into the calm, quiet of the Temple. "E-Excuse me for-- for, hmm, for being... bold. But I-- I wondered i-if you might answer me a question?" Her voice was still very uncertain. The sound of it made the Nuit draw her face back further into her hood, made her fingers start to tap out a measured rhythm --tha-thunk, tha-thunk-- on the closest pew. As if trying to hide her other peculiarities to make up for her weak, unconfident manner of speaking. "B-but I was just wondering why you-- you-- you're holding on... to... that." She turned her gaze to the letter for a moment before looking back at the girl. It was okay for her to look at the girl right now, because the girl wasn't looking back at Isolde."I-It's upset you, hasn't it? So-- so why-- why do you keep it? Why not-- just-- throw it away?" Here the Nuit ducked her head a little, dropping her eyes, her voice growing soft. "I don't mean to, er. To uh, pry. O-or insult you. In-In-Invade your privacy. But I just-- I thought-- if it was the cause of your... distress... perhaps...?" She took a deep breath. This conversation was exhausting, trying to scrounge for the right words, and it had just begun. "Perhaps it would be b-better... to let it go. Or. Or even-- get rid of it...?" She looked at the girl, brow furrowed, trying to understand and trying --though most probably failing-- to help her. Though the girl might not see it that way.

The girl. Oh, and that reminded her-- her name. She didn't even know the girl's name. "I-I'm Isolde, by the way."

[Fallon]

Fallon let out a held in breath, her shoulders slumping as she forced herself once more to relax. Her mind continued to play over in her head, the words that all was well and calm ringing throughout. Her own self created lie designed to keep her sane, for the moment at least. She did however give an awkward glance at the Nuit as she leaned in, a flicker of both wonder and alarm growing as the sense of personal space was made obviously alien to her. She leaned away slightly, eyebrow rising slightly.
“A question?” she asked “Sure… fine.”

She listened, and gestured a finger to the letter “Why hold onto this? For it is mine,” her eyes looked down at the paper, eyes studying the folded creases that had been left there. She drew in a deep breath and continued explaining myself “It may have caused distress, but it is something I cannot throw away. No matter how much I may wish to deny its simple contents, the nature of it is too deep and vital that it cannot be ignored. Things may upset, warnings of what may come will disturb a person, but it is a reminder. And those reminders help the individual prepare for an impending storm,” Fallon turned her head up to the Nuit, before giving herself a nod in confirmation “But perhaps that is just my own ignorance. Everyone works different after all.”

Wetting her lips, Fallon proceeded to slide the letter into the front of her journal, the leather cover being firmly shut after it was placed there. Her gloved hands stroke at the cover, brow creasing with thought as she did. Her eyes bore at the cover, “Isolde, a pretty name. But that’s just opinion,” the squire tapped the cover “Fallon is my name.”
The squire thought to herself for a while, her mind trying to filter through what she could or could not do.
I need to prepare, I need to get ready. It’s only a matter of time before he turns up. When he does… I’ll be able to take him on. I need to. I don’t want to play that game ever again. I never want to go back there. Never, motivation and thought slowly begun to work its way round. It gave her that gentle push of encouragement to do what was necessary and most importantly give her a focus. A focus that she had no choice but to fulfil, failing to do so would only spell her own demise “So you… you come her often?”

[Isolde Seibold]

“Why hold onto this? For it is mine. It may have caused distress, but it is something I cannot throw away. No matter how much I may wish to deny its simple contents, the nature of it is too deep and vital that it cannot be ignored. Things may upset, warnings of what may come will disturb a person, but it is a reminder. And those reminders help the individual prepare for an impending storm."

The Nuit stared at the girl --now known as Fallon-- and tried to mull her way through what she had said. "An impending storm?" she asked, managing the words without her usual uncertainty, finding that it was easier for her to simply echo back what Fallon had said, that the words came out steadier. Repeating was much easier than trying to string her own words together. "Warnings of what may come..." She paused, still drumming her fingers in that distinctive pattern against the wooden pew, before risking a glance at Fallon's face. "So-- so-- you're-- are you in danger? I-Is
th-that-- what-- that paper said? Are you g-going to be... be hurt?" The Nuit leaned back, before slumping down onto the pew next to Fallon, her knees pointed towards the girl. She searched Fallon's face openly with large, wondering eyes, forgetting that she shouldn't look at her for too long lest the girl take offense to being stared at by a Nuit. "And yet... Yet, you do not-- run? D-Don't you want to-- to-- to save yourself? To hide away? Or--" And here the Nuit almost seemed to look worried, her voice lowering into a dread whisper, looking at the girl with surprise and hesitance on her face, as if regretting what Fallon was planning to do even though the Nuit did not truly know. "Or are you g-going to-- to f-f-face this... storm?" She found that for just having met Fallon, she liked her as much as Isolde ever could. She would regret having met Fallon just to have her come to harm. Especially since Isolde was something of a pacifist, due to her natural frailty as a Nuit, and because of who she had been in life-- in her real life, not this false-life. She was someone who would regret any harm coming to anybody.

To Fallon's own question --“So you… you come here often?”-- the Nuit rolled her thin shoulders, throwing a glance around the Temple. "Th-this is the-- the-- the, uh--" Her voice trailed off, her face twisting a little. She brought her arms in closer to her body, playing with her skirts, looking down. After a few ticks the Nuit continued, more quietly than before, "The f-f-first time I've, uh-- been--- someplace like th-this in a, uh-- a long, long time. I, ah. I-- I th-thought I'd come and-- and--" But here she forcibly cut herself off. There was a pause, during which Isolde sat in complete silence, not moving, frozen. After what seemed like a whole chime she tried again, her words stumbling over each other worse than ever in her rush to try to get Fallon off the subject. "B-B-But I-- uh, mean, y-y-you d-don't really-- I mean, y-you don't want to hear about-- Y-You can't really be t-t-too inter-ter-- interested in th-that, th-though. Not i-in me." The Nuit studiously refused to look up to gauge Fallon's reaction, keeping her own face tilted down. Isolde really was artless at this whole conversing thing; a normal person would just answer the question simply, or tell the other that it was a sore subject. Isolde didn't know to do either, and so made a mess of the whole thing.

[Fallon]

Fallon turned her eyes up to the Nuit once more, ears twitching at the sudden sense of alarm in her voice. She heard the worry ring out, the slumping of movement as wonder commanded her. The squire did not say anything; instead she simply let the confusion within bubble away upon the subject on why there was such concern. She did not understand on why a stranger seemed so interested, was it a trick? A means to get her trapped and within a false sense of security? She eyed her carefully, her fingers still tracing the cover of the book.
“Maybe, once, I would want to run away. If I’m honest I still do,” she gave a bitter smile, a low laugh barely escaping her lips “A monster chases after me, if I run away then I’m at risk of leaving people I know vulnerable to the same wrath of this monster. I can’t allow that. So… I have to stay and face this storm. If I don’t, well other people might get hurt,” she placed the book upon her lap “And that idea, I can’t live with. Besides, I can’t run away forever.”

Her lips wetted themselves, and she looked away. Her fingers rolled, trying to will another lighter thought to mind. Or at least until the Nuit spoke once more. So nervous and stuttering she was, Fallon noticed that quickly, her ears listening to the little drops in the words mixed with a deep settled nervousness. And so she spoke calmly in return, a gentle coaxing out of words “Come to pray? No one will knock you for it. We all need guidance from something after all. It is part of our nature, our ego,” she let her lips curled “Like now, I am going to pray. For now I need knowledge to know what to do next. Perhaps… perhaps you will also find what else you need to know through the same method. I do not know for certain, for I am not you,” she brought her hands together, fingers lacing with each other as her head bowed “Still, I hope that you find peace in whatever has brought you here.”

Inhaling deeply, Fallon turned her focus to her hands, before letting her eyes close shut. Although she could have prayed to any of those in the pantheon, she still forever went back to the one that she knew best. Eyris had given her the power to understand, to be able to learn for a reason, but whilst her path before her had turned dark and devoid of anything she could use. So she had little choice- in her mind at least- to turn to her goddess for a flicker of guidance, even if it was only little more than a push in the right direction. And so that was what she did, she bowed her head and prayed. An unusual method to how she normally worshiped her, normality would have dictated she would set herself out something to learn, to try meditating –alas she was unskilled in that field- and practice herself in a skill. The present however dictated differently, and even if there was no answer given, then at least she had tried. It just meant that she would have to find her own way in this problem.

[Isolde Seibold]

"A-- a monster?" The Nuit's brow knit, and her eyes flitted around for a second. "E-Excuse me for-- for dis-disregarding your-- I mean, I-I know that you th-think y-y-you can save them, b-but-- I mean, I-I-I--" She paused for a moment, mouth working on words that wouldn't come out, and then managed to spit out what she was trying to convey. "I-It's h-hard to save th-them. The-- the ones-- y-y-you care for. I-It is i-in a mon-monster's nature t-t-to take and-- and take. Until there's-- there's nothing... nothing left. Fallon. Pl-Please. B-be careful. Be... prepared. For-- for whatever... might come." She dropped her eyes, nervous hands wringing at her skirt again. "Th-Though I c-could see why you m-might-- might not w-want to trust i-in... in the judgement of s-someone you just met. Especially since I'm-- I'm... how I-I am. But pl-please just... just keep that in m-mind. Y-you may th-th-think you're doing the-- the right things, and-- and then--" She rubbed a hand at her face, still keeping her arms in tight as if she thought someone might grab her. It was obviously hard for her to finish her sentence. It was also obvious that the Nuit wanted strongly to give Fallon this warning. "Then," she finally pressed, "I-It turns out... that you've-- you've d-done e-e-everything wrong. A-And i-it's not too soon be-before y-y-you've become-- the-- the monster, t-too."

She flashed her eyes to Fallon again, utterly exhausted by trying to spit out what she had suddenly felt so compelled to say. Memories flickered behind her eyes, and not for the first time and --she hoped-- not for the last, Wynry's face came burning through. She held onto it for a moment, as Fallon told her that it was okay to ask for guidance from the gods, it was okay to talk to them.

But how could Isolde reach them, those gods who had seemed to desert her so long ago, when her own monster had come home and ruined it all? How could she trust the gods now, so long after they had let him take everything, and leave her worse than dead-- a-- a monster, herself? She had been trying, the last few days, to rediscover the gods' love and warmth, which had so long since been replaced bitterly in her mind, her heart. But she was just so empty now. And what wasn't empty was spoiled, rotten. She had been decaying, mind, body, and soul, for many years. How could she trust the gods to love something as horrid as that? And how could she trust herself to get near to them, when she wasn't entirely certain that they wouldn't just deal the finishing blow, and then she would truly be nothing.

She looked over at Fallon, the girl's head titled down, her hands folded so peacefully and prettily, and Isolde could do nothing but regret. She finally acknowledged what she had known all along; there were no gods for her here. Not as long as she didn't give herself over to them, as she had so long before. She couldn't love the gods if she could not trust them. And they certainly would not love her.

The Nuit slumped further into the pew, tilting her face up, and rubbing at her eyes. She was just tired. So very tired. She didn't know what to do.

[Fallon]

A monster… yeah… become one. But what’s to say I’m not one already?

Fallon raised her head slightly, eyes turning to the Nuit who had slumped into the pew next to her. But the squire did not speak, instead she simply contemplated the words. In honesty though, Fallon was far from the notions of being peaceful and calm. She just instead had to throw the rough hand of control over her raging mind and emotion, to begin sifting through all the possibilities and one by one categorising them. But no matter how she wanted to shake the words of the Nuit, she knew the heavy truth that existed within them. Too often had she heard stories of people trying to save the many, and in return simply being shunned. Her mentor himself existed once upon a time among them, as a normal man before he too became a monster.

Her eyes fixated upon the back of the pew in front of them, fingers relaxing as she returned her mind to the present. Lips became pursed, eyes growing sharper as the glazed state of prayer left her. No answer came, but at least it settled her onto a path of action. It was something she would indeed have to face by herself, an element where her own resolve would have to be steeled. She could not let herself crumble, not when she needed to face this trial. There may have been times where she thought there was no hope, no chance of survival, and perhaps that was the case now with the flickering whispers in the back of her mind.

“I would rather be a monster who tried to do the right thing for the people, for those that I need to protect and keep safe, than alone and bitter upon the regrets caused by promises I could not fulfil. If one cannot trust themselves, if they cannot bring themselves to sail into the storm when the odds seem so far against them, then how are they suppose to trust others?” Fallon spoke calmly, but firmly, unwavering in her words “Besides, if one never tries then one will always fail.” Exhaling, Fallon stood, straightening herself out and looking down once more upon the Nuit, though not with any true emotion. She accepted the presence of the Nuit and her words, but no rage or worry worked its way up there. She gave the incline of the head to the woman “And sometimes… sometimes we just have to take that blind leap into the abyss below. We have to take that vital test of faith, not upon the gods or others, but upon ourselves. Perhaps sometime you should try it… I don’t know, I’m not you.”

The squire gave a smile and turned her head to the front of the room “I could pray to Eyris for wisdom and knowledge, to Tyveth for truth and justice and Yahal for remaining strong to my convictions… but at the end of the day, I still need to have faith not only in their words but also a solid belief that I can indeed achieve such things. If I don’t have that belief, monster or no monster, well… I guess the rest is self explanatory.”

[Isolde Seibold]

Monster or no monster, the Nuit mused. The phrase tottered in her mind like a large pile of glass dishes. She felt as if the lightest breeze might tip it over, smashing it to little bits that would then become sharp, jagged, cutting. Hurting.

It was strange, though. For this moment, the tower was sound. Pristine white and gleaming, polished by ideals, and so frighteningly fragile.

Monster or no monster. Could it be so easy? The Nuit marveled at Fallon. How had the young woman managed to say it so readily? How had the idea come to her on a whim? It had taken Isolde months to even catch a glimpse of that idea, and now Fallon was just pounding it out like it was nothing special.

She said it as if even a monster could do right. As if even a monster could rely upon itself, could trust in itself to do good. For the sake of others. But how?

And then one of the plates at the top of the tower tumbled off, shattering into a million dancing, shining shards, slicing through Isolde's mind, and suddenly it was all so clear. The Nuit's mouth twitched. She could have laughed, and her troubled expression visibly brightened. This was the second time one of these 'clarity' moments had happened to her, when the clouds that perpetually darkened her mind seemed for a moment to be blown away, and everything became so simple and lovely and nice. She wondered what it meant that this feeling had been able to find her again.

Monster or no monster, it didn't matter which. Either could do good. Either could do what they thought was right, and it didn't matter. And perhaps it didn't even matter when things went bad, because then there was just more opportunity to make them right again. It didn't matter how discouraging things might sometimes seem. Somehow, it would be possible to make things right. It didn't matter that things wouldn't be the same as they had been before. They could still be right again.

The Nuit wanted to hold that optimism with her, to keep it tucked in one of her pockets, safe. She wanted to be able to take it out when the clouds came back --as they always did-- and go over it again and again and again. She stood, turning towards Fallon, and almost reached out to touch her hand. However, the Nuit held herself in check. Just because she was feeling good now, alive now, didn't mean that she actually was. She was still a Nuit, something to be despised and sneered at. Fallon wouldn't want to be touched by Isolde, and that was understandable.

"F-Fallon," the Nuit said, "Th-Thank you. I think I might... understand a l-little better, now. Maybe-- well, I hope y-you're right." And here she'd thought that she had buried hope long ago. The world was full of wonders. "W-What are you g-going to do, now?" And for some inexplicable reason, she found herself adding on, "A-And is there anything-- anything I could do...? To-- to help...?" She doubted that Fallon would want her help, and indeed there was probably not much she could do. But perhaps she could do something small in return for Fallon's words. Or perhaps simply asking was enough.