< There Was A Celebration | Sol Invictus Logs | My Cup Runneth Over >
Lucent is sitting on a chair made of Serenity on the Garden, chatting with his Abyssal friends. His Caste Mark is evident with its shadow sliver, and a little version of the Unconquered Sun sits on his shoulder on contemplation. And trying not to look smug to the Deathknights.
Zahara walks slowly through the garden, contemplating the shadowland that is no longer bound to the underworld. As she hears voices in the garden, she pauses, identifying the speakers, and then proceeding. "Hello, Lucent... and friends."
Lucent The little sun runs up to Zahara, jumping to her head in one leap and being above her like a crown. Luna takes his place on Lucent's shoulder, her clothes changing with every blink. "Hello, Empress! You HAVE met my Brother and Crow already, right?"
Zahara looks skeptically upwards at the little sun figure, then returns her gaze back to Lucent. "Yes, we've met. Though we have not had a chance to speak at length."
Lucent "Well, then, this is your chance. We were just talking about Thorns. And Larquen!"
Lucent "... sorry, The Mask. I forgot you guys are antsy about this."
Lucent smoothes over his faux pas with a wink from his Venus-Chair
Zahara seats herself on one of the garden benches. "It is no matter to me. Just watch who you speak of your old friendships in front of."
CrowDevoursFlame remains steadfastly silent in the face of Zahara's arrival.
CrowDevoursFlame Ember of Glory, on the other hand, responds by standing and bowing, with genuine respect but without any greater enthusiasm, to Zahara. "Empress."
Zahara returns the gesture, though not as deeply. "Crow Devours Flame."
Lucent "They are all serious. Really! I think the Mask harvest all smiles to put on his Mask."
Lucent ponders the implications of that
CrowDevoursFlame "I am still not sure why you have asked to speak with us today," Crow says, continuing to ignore Zahara's presence.
Zahara "And, speaking of our good friend, the Mask of Winters... you must be proud of his conquest of Lookshy." She smiles slightly.
CrowDevoursFlame Ember looks up to Zahara and speaks politely, enunciating carefully. "I am a servant of loftier goals. The events in Lookshy were necessary and performed with the greatest skill possible, of course, but I would not speak of pride in it, for myself."
Lucent "And what WOULD you take pride in?"
EmberOfGlory turns to face Lucent. "The correct and proper ending of all things, as the very nature of existence implies."
Lucent "Ah. Of course, Brother." He nods. "And you, Crow? Surely, that is something more your liking? Swords! Blood! Military Takeover! ... well, I hope not the betrayal part. That seems beneath you two, really."
CrowDevoursFlame "I had no part in the battle; I have nothing to be proud of. It is only in the slaying itself that one truly finds that which is good in battle."
Lucent "Indeed. And are you... looking for a battle soon? I imagine Larquen left you with more precise instructions than simply 'follow Lucent around and tell me if he gets anywhere near my greenie'?"
CrowDevoursFlame "We will fight to your aid if such a thing is needed."
EmberOfGlory "We are really here more as... cultural emissaries, of course." He nods very slightly in Zahara's direction again. "The Mask values his allegiance with the Empress of the Sunlands and wishes to maintain strong relations in this matter."
Zahara "Indeed. I do wonder what will come of that allegiance."
EmberOfGlory "I am certain many things might," he says, his face never changing expression. "Perhaps new, more generous trade arrangements can be made which reflect the Mask's greater prominence in regional politics."
Lucent "Ember, Crow." Lucent watches them... "Do you talk to the Mask about what we do? How often do you tell him of our movements, if at all?"
EmberOfGlory "I report only on my own continued presence and my own given objectives. I have maintained all the separation expected of a diplomatic attache."
EmberOfGlory Crow continues to sit, quietly, not even fidgeting or looking up to the others who are speaking.
< There Was A Celebration | Sol Invictus Logs | My Cup Runneth Over >