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Entry tags:
Event Twenty-One
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Sometimes I feel sad. Sometimes I feel curious, Sometimes I feel mad. Sometimes I feel silly, Sometimes I feel surprised. How many feelings, Do I have inside? | |
Welcome to Awash's Twenty-First event log, everyone! Further information on this event can be found here at the OOC post. You are welcome to make your own logs and posts for this event! | |
t's another regular, normal day in the Town. There's absolutely nothing to show that anything could possibly be wrong; the birds are chirping, the sky is bright, and everything is absolutely, entirely wrong.
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[ Suddenly, now really up in his personal space! Hi there. ]
I'm only curious.... [ Up until now, her eyes have been devoid of any spark or brightness. Now that light has returned, but it's not of the kindness he may have known within them before. ] about the weaknesses of humans. And you--
[ When did her hand get there upon his cheek with such a barely-there touch? As if she is holding something so fragile that it might break with any extra pressure. ] You're teaching me all about that.
[ A finger curls, dipping beneath his chin to guide his face down to hers. ] This armor, this scowl, this mortal flesh... it doesn't really compare to the fragility of your heart. Do you know why?
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Some part of him believes she doesn't mean ill. His mind knows better, yet struggles to overcome his hunch with reason.
Hardening his face—else he just might lose that very scowl she's mentioned—Berkut meets Pyra's eyes. ]
Even if I were not to ask, you would tell me.
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.....Rinea.
[ The syllables rolls off her tongue preciously, as if she is speaking of something forbidden. ] Your greatest weakness. [ The finger just under his chin will turn, suddenly, to an unpleasant grip of his jaw. ]
A weakness that... your enemies know, within Rigel and beyond. That I know.
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It's still hard to believe that anything bad might come of this; however, even in the deepest recess of his heart, he still feels a cutting sense of terror at the ideas planted in his mind by that choice of words. A weakness, she said. His weakness.
Once the initial shock wears off, Berkut reaches up to curl a hand around Pyra's wrist. He doesn't apply pressure, yet. ]
You . . . What are you implying?
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It is your love for her is the glaring flaw in all of your strategies. She is a poison that can be used against you, she is rust on your armor, ugly and brittle. She is someone that your courts will use, a pawn you have no way of protecting when away. She is an arrow that has already struck your heart, and you're bleeding out and showing your wound to the world.
[ In truth, she doesn't actually know if anyone within the courts of the empire have actually dared used her before, but if she was a part of this war, if she was someone to fight against him, if she was to be truly terrible and do all that she could to undermine him-- ]
The good of the Rigel Empire [ Somehow, her voice continues to remain as if she's simply explaining something to a child: light and with a playfully elegant quality, almost motherly. ] ...cannot be led by weak men.
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Rinea is the most beautiful person he knows. Inside and out, none can compare. Those around them back in Rigel are of a lesser character as a whole, but even they wouldn't be so untrustworthy as to turn her into a weapon. The terrible things Pyra speaks of, not even a hint of suspicion sparks within Berkut's heart from hearing them.
That's not what unsettles Berkut. His fingers twitch around Pyra's wrist, wanting to return the grip yet refraining from doing so. It's that she's looking down on him, enough that he bristles; his voice, low.]
The Empire can only be led by the strong. I assure you, I bear no such wound—nor do I find your accusations of treachery convincing.
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...Perhaps he was onto something back then. That the divine flame of life was wasted upon humans and creation, and as the benevolent servants of their Father, destruction was only a push in the right direction.
This man before her-- he is one such human that had already started a fire. A conquest, wrecking lives and lands in the name for this Empire like so many countries and nations before. ]
Strong? Not you, not someone who has lost many times already. [ Now she puts some more pressure upon her grip, now there is a little more force to the way she holds him. ] Do you really think you're strong enough to win? Do you think you're strong enough to make a world in which she is truly safe?
[ What a precious man he is, to believe so. ] Tell me, who is the next candidate for the throne after you? You should pass Rinea onto him.
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[ Abruptly relinquishing his grip, he backhands Pyra's wrist with a whip-like ferocity. It doesn't matter what damage he incurs in the process. He just wants her to stop touching him, stop feeding him such poisonous words. ]
You . . . you dare? What do you know!?
[ He knows.
He knows that he was only allowed this privilege, because his aunt had died young and his uncle had not taken another wife. If the Emperor were to change his mind, Berkut would lose that right in a fortnight. Then he'd make a fool out of himself, his departed mother and father, and Rinea in one fell swoop like a true failure.
Rigel deserves—needs—a strong ruler. To that end, he's toiled away all these years to fulfill his duty as heir presumptive. He doesn't know how to be anything else, so he doesn't understand how he can suddenly be so inadequate.
That rekindles a deep-seated fear within him, lit by someone he'd allowed in long enough to make it happen. Why hadn't he kept Pyra at an arm's distance like he had before? His mind reels. Why is he still unable to doubt her, his heart fueled only by the desire to protect his wounded pride while stinging from what it perceives to be her betrayal? Since when did he ever trust her?
He finds it difficult to see straight all of a sudden.
But he knows that when he's angry, he can say anything to anyone. ]
There is no one! I alone stand as heir, so I will prove myself worthy of claiming the throne. You have no right.
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He speaks of rights, but what rights--? The right to conquer the world, the right to destroy it along the way?
If he were in her world, it would be she who would be telling him that he has no right to speak of; she-- she and the other two of the trinity, at the behest of their Father, had created their world, their universe, the land the humans walk upon, had reconstructed it with the ground-up and left but remnants remnants of the old one as a reminder of what humans had become: selfish, terrible, destructive creatures.
They had made them, given them new life. They were the ones who had given them the opportunity once more to even think of constructing concepts like thrones and, and kingdoms, how dare he-- ]
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The whisper comes to her at the back of her mind, and it feels gentle for once, yet strained as if she is holding something back. The sensation is light and warmth upon her back, as if she's turned away from the sun; it feels like a hand upon her shoulder.
"Stop."
Usually it's the other way around, usually it's Pyra that is telling this other entity to restrain herself.
"Something's.... not right here." ]
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[ Something is not right, but she can't be sure what it is. It's as if she's forgotten something. Sure, the world was re-made, but there was a reason it was re-made and not done-away entirely. And that reason was... ]
[ She blinks, looking at Berkut, stupefied. ] You... will prove yourself, you say.
[ She takes a breath, steadying, scared. She had been about to do something terrible to him. ] Such is the nature of humans... to do incredible things. That the mind cannot even fathom, and the greatest algorithms cannot predict. [ She speaks slowly, carefully, as if she is reciting something she's studied, a mantra, an hope, and yet it comes out hollow, robotic.
And she looks confused, as if she doesn't know why she's said it. ] ....How.
How do you think-- you can prove yourself to the rest of the world? You... have not given up hope.
Is that it?
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[ Despite Pyra's strange behavior, Berkut snaps back. For whatever reason, she's lost her momentum. He doesn't care to find out why. He has no interest in listening to her gibberish. He just wants her to stop talking.
Whereas Pyra's confusion has grown, Berkut is paradoxically the picture of utmost confidence as he stands tall with an aggressive air about him. ]
As one born to rule, it is my duty to be strong. So long as I stand as inheritor of Rigel's royal blood, what any of you say or do matters not to me. In the end, I will emerge victorious.
[ Hope is intangible, a wish. Ambition, however, is a word of action—one that he embodies with mind, body, and soul.
Nothing is given. Everything is taken. ]
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She's torn between wanting to double down and put him in his place, or relenting entirely, her lack and restraint and empathy dueling with an unsettling feeling of guilt that begins to emerge. Didn't she once say he was strong, not weak? And this-- this persistence he's showing, this refusal to give up... that's a part of his strength. ]
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Then prove me wrong.
[ That's the side that is encouraging him, that believes in him. And then-- ]
And when you do fall... [ --that is the new side that doubts, that is wishing for his failure. ] Be ready to expect to lose everything.
Your kingdom, your life, and your love.
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It's unthinkable.
Berkut has no intention of letting that happen. Failure is simply not an option. He was born to succeed! ]
I am aware. And such a future will never come to pass.
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She is done with him, here, left with a strange, mixed feeling of both anticipation to watch him either succeed or fail. ]
I look forward to it...
To whatever comes to pass.
[ Yes... that. That is her role, that was her original role in the world. to be nothing but something that sits besides her Father with the other two of her kind, to simply wait. To wait, to monitor, and watch as the world grows. And only then, only at the end of it all, to be prepared to accept the outcome of the choices of humans. The wish that she had developed upon awakened, that of seeing the world preserved and for those within it to survive, is something that... was not a part of her, originally. It was something that a human gave her. ]
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So he looks away, seeming to choke down the words that don't come to him as he moves to stride past her. ]
Indeed.
[ He, too, is done with her. For his troubles, he departs with a feeling of deep apprehension. ]