.~Edelsteine~. Gianfar's Journal- by XiaoRen

[XiaoRen]

The Chess Match Part 1

Gianfar peeked out of the back hallway. He had just decided to be responsible and go get something to eat instead of staying in Beryl's room and reading, but he now saw there were an awful lot of people in the commons room. He stood in indecision, but finally decided he was being silly. He knew Beryl and Lucius, and he had a familiar feeling about the one colorful one with the black hair and gold eyes...he looked a little bit like someone he'd met maybe.

He strode to the couch by the fire and sat down, staff over his lap, face prim and unreadable, he hoped. He hated how shy he was. Lucius had a tray of something...should he say something to him, ask for some maybe?


Revei padded over to pick up a piece of fruit, selecting the kind he liked best, and gave Beryl and Lucius a bright and slightly brittle smile. "Thank you," he said, and settled himself back into the chair he'd abandoned a moment go. There were so many people in the room suddenly. It was making him nervous and a little flighty.

He brightened a bit as Gianfar came in, and nodded to the grey deity amiably.

The korat gave Sosi a languid look, clearly quite happy right where it was. It took a morsel from her hand, then leaped down and flowed back over to jump up into Revei's lap.



He heard the footsteps and looked over his shoulder, shifting and following Gianfar's path with his eyes, "Well.....look what the books left behind. Gianfar!"


Gianfar looked taken aback at Lucius's quip, then realized he was just being affectionate. The colorful, gold eyed man nodded to him - so he did know him from somewhere.

Straightening his already straight glasses, Gianfar said to Lucius, "The words they contain can no more leave me behind than your stars can you." He noticed Lucius looked less impish than usual, now that he was speaking to him, and regretted his brusque reply.

Turning to hide his discomfit, he said to the one who had nodded to him, "Have we met?"



He smiled to the girl, "Well, stars are my speciality. I'm suprised anyone was watching...."
His cheeks blushed, manifesting a slightly reddish glow of light.

"Can I get you anything Gianfar?" He asked, craning his neck and examining the grey figure from upside-down.


Revei swallowed the mouthful of fruit he'd had and nodded again, remembering suddenly that he'd met Gianfar before he'd transformed. "I am Revei," he said cheerfully. "You taught me coffee and traded words with me."

Good gosh Gianfar thought as Lucius turned completely upside down to look at him maybe not less impish...it must be something else. Gianfar's own head began to tilt to look at him. He half expected the youth to say "can you stand on your head?" like the cat in the movie version he'd liked less than a book he'd read the week before. Catching up on 19th century authors and 20th century animation at the same time was bewildering.

"Yes please. Whatever everyone else is having."

Edit: straightening and shaking out his wings...so strange...he said to Revei "Of course, that is why you seem so familiar. The tenor of your voice and tint of your skin have changed, but you now seem outwardly as I sensed you were inwardly then. And I don't think one lesson in coffee is adequate...we ought to have more."



Getting off his butt again, he grabbed a little assortment and set them snext to Knowledge's hand.
instinct's gotta kick in I'll bet.....he'll just start eating without breaking his train of thought.


"I would like that," Revei answered Gianfar. He tucked his feet up under him on the chair, disturbing the korat briefly. It croaked and resettled itself. "And - chess?" he offered, looking momentarily distant.

Gianfar nibbled at the food left by him, but looked intently towards the kitchenette where the coffee maker dwelt. He picked up what Lucius had just set down and took the tidbits with him while he went on his routine quest. In passing he nodded to the blonde man and woman with a strange catlike creature beside her, and to the creature itself.

Over his shoulder he said, "Chess would be most enjoyable, Revei." He would make espresso this time, and see if Revei might like it black.



I knew it

Teasing, "Don't eat too fast, Gianfar."


"Good. I remember liking chess," Revei said, and finished the slice of fruit in his hand. "Be kind to me until I remember it?" he asked, doing his best to look innocent - but he winked at Lucius when he though Gianfar wasn't going to catch it.

"This stomach, once belonging to my lupine predecessor, ought to be able to ingest up to 20 percent of my body weight in one sitting without chewing. Though I don't wish to test the theory," Gianfar said across the room to Lucius. He wondered if the other deity would notice he was teasing back and not throwing miniature lightning bolts at him.

He made espresso, dumping out a few shots until he had made two that were to his own satisfaction, then brought them in two small matching cups and saucers back to where Revei sat. He tried to recall where Harmodius kept a chessboard.



A corner of his mouth twicthed then turned up in a grin when he caught the wink.

"Playing all out, maybe you could win if you set some books he hasn't read nearby. He'd be quite distracted."

That would be an impressive match. He knows the game. Knowledge may be one of his only prospective good opponents


Revei sniffed curiously at the coffee-scent, dark and concentrated and strong. The body hadn't lost its sharp sense of smell. "That smells delicious. What is it?" he asked, and picked up one of the tiny hot cups.

He adopted an almost wounded expression. "I am certain that I have entirely forgotten all the strategy I once knew," he said to Lucius with a dramatic sigh. "It has been ever so long since I played... "

Gianfar heard Lucius mention something to Revei, but couldn't make it out before he got to them. He set his own coffee down and went to Harmodius, eye level when the other deity was sitting. "Would you make us a chessboard?"


His eyes focussed as gianfar approached directly from watching teh group to the one.
"A chessboard?.....yes, Gianfar."

He lifted a hand, wisps forging into the patterned board and pieces. "Good luck."

"There is no luck in chess, my lord." Gianfar said.

The board matched the players, hematite and opal, but that didn't mean they had to play their own colors. He carried the board over and set it down before Revei. He would let the dreamgod choose who would be which color, who would have the first move and thus the more difficult position.

As Revei set up the pieces, Gianfar said, "It's espresso. In Turkey there is a saying that coffee should be 'black as death, strong as hell, and sweet as love' - so this time I give it to you black."


"Ohhhhhh." Revei picked up one of the opal pawns, holding it up to watch the play of subtle glinting light in its depths. "A beautiful thing," he observed, and set it carefully on the board in front of him, then deftly placed the rest of the pieces.

He moved one pawn out ontothe board, his eyes glinting with challenge.

"Espresso." Revei sipped thoughtfully at the dark liquid. His eyes squeezed almost shut briefly as the bitterness struck him, but underneath it was rich and thick and there was something that made him want more of it. "I like it," he said thoughtfully.

Gianfar moved the hematite pawn to stand face to face with the one that had first stepped out. He wanted to see if Revei would play conservatively, or try to draw him into The King's Gambit. He thought the latter more likely. Dreams were by nature bold and changeable. He should not expect much consistency perhaps.

He sipped his own coffee, thinking it could have been better. He was out of practice with espresso. "It is too bitter, I brewed it too long by a few seconds, but I am glad you like it."


Revei tilted his head and considered a moment, then moved a second pawn to free one of his bishops. The god of Knowledge could be counted upon to know the movements of the classic patterns, but there was no harm in trying.

He startled a little at the quick, light touch on his forehead, and watched after Beryl for a moment, calming his momentary alarm. How affectionate. How strange.

So absorbed in the possibilities and statistics of the game that had barely begun, Gianfar didn't notice Beryl until pale blue hair blocked his vision and lips passed over his forehead like soft rain touching down from a cool breeze. Any moisture would have evaporated immediately in his blush. His concentration was shattered. Revei's chances in the percentages in his mind began to climb.

"Goodnight Beryl...I won't disturb you later. I ought to return to my own place...but if you could leave my little dragon outside of your door I would appreciate it."



He smiled sadly at the kiss from drac, then got up and crawled onto the seat behind gianfar, resting his cheek on the skin above the robes and between the wings.

The first I'd met. He's gotten much steadier....less harried then before. Must not be fighting with Xiao much.


Nor him. Font of knowledge, font of rebukes.

When Lucius laid his head on the bare flesh below his wild hair, above his robes, and between his wings, Gianfar stifled a yelp. He didn't want to give any indication of rejection with the boy seeming so...he didn't know what. And he supposed Lucius wasn't a boy, he just felt that way to him.

His conscious mind now torn from the game, he noted the King's Gambit in some part of his subconscious and responded by playing out the Accept that followed in the pattern. His hand left the hematite pawn a moment too late, and he took the opal from the board.


Revei looked up from the board, startled, and studied Gianfar's flustered expression. Some part of him was delighted to see the calm one so perturbed. He squashed it firmly. That was not kind, and he liked Gianfar. He moved his piece in response, saying nothing and watching to see if Gianfar had something up his sleeve, or if he somehow meant to give the game away.

Gianfar moved another pawn forward from the waiting ranks to threaten the remaining opal pawn and force Revei to make a choice. Revei looked surprised and suspicious, so he knew exactly what he was doing and wondered why the hell Knowledge had played into it. My right hand didn't know what my left was doing. What now? Should I keep him off balance or keep playing by the book from my new disadvantage. He'll be too spread out soon, if he follows the pattern, maybe I can switch tactics then and cut in. Strike more decisively than he expects.

Before Revei made a move Gianfar sat back "Forgive me, but I am not giving you my best game. Would you take it amiss if we left the board so, and continued at a later time? I doubt any will disturb the pieces if we leave a note," He said the last sentence pointedly, as if to say to Lucius "don't disturb the pieces". Lucius knew enough chess to move one piece while they were out and so throw the entire game. "...and even if they did, I'll remember where the pieces were if you trust me."

To soften anything Lucius might hear in his tone, he lifted a wing to brush the inside bridge against Lucius's cheek. Unassuming in color, in texture his wings were softer than breath.


Revei pulled his hand back from where it hovered uncertainly over the pieces. "I would not take it amiss," he answered, trying to keep the faint current of relief from showing on his face. "I could rest, myself."

He was almost certain he had not been meant to see the delicate gesture of that wing, so he did not react to it, instead looking around for a scrap of loose paper on which a note could be written. It would be better to resume the game when there were less distractions.

[XiaoRen]

The Chess Match Part 2


Revei slipped back inside, flexing and refolding his wings as he walked. The soreness from the muscle he'd strained some time ago had lingered far longer than he'd expected; but it was finally fading now, only occasionally twinging when he used it for too long.

He'd been playing solitary games, chasing his own shadow and his thoughts. He'd been unable to shake the restless kind of melancholy as yet.

Gianfar flew down from his new study in the clouds, part of Beryl's present abode. Rain was falling, so he left his journal and current books behind. In the damp his waves of silver hair became curls at their ends and stuck to his cheeks and neck. His robes were wet and clingy, so he headed straight for the fireplace inside. To his surprise, Revei was there. He looked bored and brooding.

"Hello, it has been a while." Gianfar said brightly. His tone surprised him.


Revei's feathers fluffed with surprise; he hadn't been expecting anyone, and hadn't heard the door. He turned quickly. "It has," he answered, and looked Gianfar up and down. "You're much the same, only wetter," he added, and moved over so that Gianfar could get closer tothe fire.

He did move closer to the fire, holding out his hands and spreading his wings a bit to catch the drying warmth.

"It takes care of some of the dust at least" he said with a small smile. Sobering, he said, "I am sorry to interrupt your solitude so abruptly. You look darker than when I saw you last, more restless. I promise I will do no more than make you espresso and leave you be if you prefer the quiet. You won't even know I'm here."


Revei tucked his feet up under him. "My mood is no fault of yours," he said, obliquely apologetic. "I'd like espresso ... " He trailed off, uncertain. It had been such a long time. "We never finished our game," he offered.

"That is true. I am pretty sure the board is still undisturbed on the shelves." He went to the wall to the right of the fireplace and looked at the chess set that was still set up. He noted the positions of the pieces, to see if anyone had been idly continuing their game. It appeared not, the pieces were all exactly as they had left them. He lifted the stone board with some difficulty, not wanting to tip any of the pieces over, and shuffed back towards the hearth. "Everything is as we left it." Over the weeks he had been thinking on and off about the chess game, and what his next move would be, and whether Revei would still want to play. He was pleased that Revei both remembered and wished to continue the game.


Revei glanced over the board - yes, all the pieces were still in the same places. "I believe it is your move," he suggested, feeling the darkness of his mood lighten somewhat. "I could put the water on for coffee."

Gianfar moved his piece, he had thought about it long enough that he didn't need to deliberate. A knight moving out on the other side of the board from all the action. Something he intended to use later. His easy manner and quick, decisive movements could have been mistaken for spontenaity.

"I will teach you to make the perfect shot of espresso, if you like. Give you time to think." he stood, shaking his clinging bangs back from his face.


Revei tilted his head and considered the move. It was a setup, rather than an immediate attack. Of course Gianfar would know that he'd recognize the move for what it was. "I'll take you up on that," he said. He'd let the positions of the pieces turn over in the back of his mind, and decide after a bit of thought.

Gianfar walked over to the espresso bar and turned on the machines.

"There's two of everything but the grinder, so just do what I do on that side."

He found himself grinning. He was now warm and progressively dryer, in pleasant company, about to have fresh coffee, and best of all he was teaching. The act of explanation felt like stretching out cramped muscles.

"It's best to grind the coffee fresh from whole beans, because it will have more flavor than pre-ground. For espresso, you grind it as fine as it will go." He pulled out the glass container full of whole beans and poured a cupfull into the grinder. He showed Revei the settings.

"Now take about eight grams of the ground and put it into the machine like so." He went on about ideal water temperature (200 degrees Farenheit), brewing time (30 seconds), and yield (about an ounce). He took the time to explain the importance of each action as he performed it, then looked to Revei to do the same.


Revei watched and listened, absorbing the explanation. Gianfar was a good teacher, and all the more so because he enjoyed it so much; the shine in the Knowledge deity's eyes and his genuine smile was making Revei smile in response.


"Ground very finely," he repeated, and worked the grinder, then poured the grounds carefully into the machine. He'd been watching Gianfar's careful hands, and imitated the other's motions. "Temperature - like so, about - so long - am I doing it right?"

Nodding affirmative, he still offered some minor suggestions "Yes...but tamp it a bit firmer." He did not usually offer praise until a task was completed. When Revei had poured his shot, Gianfar tilted his head to one side and held out a hand "May I?"

[XiaoRen]

reserved for solo writing

[XiaoRen]

reserved for solo writing

[XiaoRen]

Gianfar Returns

Gianfar still had frost on his wings from the far reaches where he had travelled. Far, distant, cold places between the stars. Amazing, how far away they were from each other. Amazing how long it took to fly from one to the other without a dragon to ride. The distances were greater than he remembered, but then everything moves, spins outward and away, bodies moving apart, until the fingers of the stars reached out will no longer be able to grasp at their companions' and all will be dark... He shuddered. He had sensed some change in the mood of...the universe? No, it wasn't Lucius. It was something deeper. And he had taken all this time to return to find out what. It was blessed to find the shop warm and the coffee bar still there. The dais was new...





Illumin was currently bumping around in the kitchen, highly annoyed. Of course he'd needed a substantial snack - he had to eat more now, ever since Harmodius' change and when his room wasn't wholly bathed in sunlight every hour of daylight - while his two servants were out. Eibhilin was shopping or something, and Eliam was nowhere to be found.

"What good are Aoidei if they're not there when you need them?" Illumin muttered, peeveed. "Ouch!" The kettle was screaming on the stove, and now Illumin added his own yelp of pain as he learned that metal kettles conduct heat quite nicely.





Gianfar jumped at the whistle of the kettle and almost dropped his staff as he set it against the wall by the door. He shuffled over towards the noise, shaking ice crystals out of his robes and beating his wings. **A kettle...that's the noise. How blessed. Someone is making hot drinks**
The person in the kitchen was not someone he recognized. He ran a hand through his wind touseled hair and took his glasses off to shine them on his robe self consciously. He was about to introduce himself when the strange youth began muttering to himself and then yelped.

"Oh dear." Gianfar held out his hands as they were still chilled. "Careful of that." Perhaps, like Byrne, this god had difficulties with appliances. "May I see?"




Illumin blinked, and turned to see a god he had never seen - but, still, he recognized him from a faint flicker in the memories that had once been Sosiqui's. "You're... Knowledge?" he asked, withdrawing from the kettle. "And - if you like. These blasted implements...!"

A teabag was in pieces on the counter. Apparently Illumin wasn't sure how to use that, either.




Gianfar smiled at the torn teabag, but decided not to mention it. He moved not to the kettle, but to the youth, taking the burned hand between his, both to warm his own and to chill the burn. It didn't look too bad. "You know of me?" Come to think of it, this person did look faintly familiar. *could I have forgotten someone? no, I never forget.* "I am honored. My name is Gianfar. Perhaps I knew your host?"






Illumin was surprised by the other god's instant kindness, but he smiled back - taken a bit off-guard. "It must have been my host who knew of you, though her memories were too faint to recall your name. I am Illumin, Light."

He lingered for a moment, unsure of what to do, before gently removing his hand from between Gianfar's and rummaging through a drawer for a dishtowel. "My Aoidei have vanished, it seems, and left me to fend for myself in this barbaric... kitchen."




Gianfar let Illumin's hand slide easily from his own. The brief contact made him feel grounded again, more able to interact. "I am happy to make your acquaintance Illumin. These Aodiei, they are your servants? familiars?"

He got out three new teabags of strong black tea - PG Tips it was called - and poured some hot water into the pot to warm it, then poured it out, put the teabags in, and set it to steeping. He had wanted coffee, but he could have that after a nice hot cup of tea.




"My servants, yes, the only two remaining faithful to me," Illumin said, frowning a bit at the vague reminder. "Oh, so that's how it works," he added, sheepishly, watching Gianfar put the teabags whole. He'd thought you had to open them first, and had thought all the 'extra packaging' rather silly. To cover his embarassment, he turned to open the fridge and retrieve the cream. "I believe I have been using your library as of late," he said, turning the conversation away from the reminder of past pains or present lack of knowledge. "Truly, an impressive collection."





Gianfar was glad to see Illumin note how he'd done things. He wouldn't need to explain anything to someone who could learn by observation.

He poured out two mugs after exactly three minutes and moved them towards Illumin for him to add the cream. "My library, oh yes. I am so pleased. Did you find the book on Nanotechnology and Stained Glass Making? It talks about the properties of light and aesthetic in a way that I found invogorating, tradition art and science brought together. Did you know that humans were useing nanoparticles for hundreds of years to make deep reds in stained glass before they even knew what a particle was?"

[XiaoRen]

Illumin carefully poured in cream so that his tea was nearly overflowing the cup, then paused and put the cream on the counter so Gianfar could reach it. "I'm not sure how much you take," he said, picking his up and stirring it a bit with a spoon, very carefully.

He blinked at the long stream of words. "Ah... no, I was actually studying old tales, trying to find some information about our lord Harmodius and the mysterious Aristogeiton," Illumin explained, taking a quick sip of his tea. He wasn't sure he knew what a particle was, either. "It was fairly informative."

Gianfar began to add cream, but lost track of what he was doing at mention of Aristogeiton. That name was in the oldest of texts. His Fact Recall failed him, though. He hadn't researched it in this lifetime. His cream overflowed the cup, the tea now a pale tan going white with clouds. Still he looked distant. "Yes...that is...curse it I can't remember. Something has happened since I left. I returned because of this. A darkness, a shifting in the stars. Can you tell me?" Still the cup overflowed.

"Your cup..." Illumin quickly set his down and grabbed a dishtowel, putting it down over the spill while gently lifting the cream out of Gianfar's hands. Setting it on the counter, he sighed. What was he, the local chronicler?

It seemed he was, at least for now. "It's a long story, but - Lucius... decided he loved Harmodius and would have him whether Creation would or no. To this end, and aided by Khiviance, he stabbed our Lord through the chest with a sword and would have carried him off were it not for the rest of us - Beryl, Eamnnon, Insanity and her host, and myself of course," he added, swelling a bit with pride as he mentioned his own part in the battle.

Then he sobered. "Afterwards, despite Medicine's careful tending, the wound would not heal, and he sent that goddess off to find this Aristogeiton, apparently the one who can help him most. Shortly thereafter he shifted to his Destructive aspect, and everything changed to what you see here..."

Only after Illumin was fully finished with his answer and it had sunk in did Gianfar look down at the now mostly sopped up mess and his milktea. "I am terribly sorry." It could have been about either the tea or the near abduction of their Lord by his grave tone. "Thank you."

His tea was ruined, but it was still warm. He lifted it and began to quaff it. "I should have been here. It is my failing that I was not." *gulpgulppause* "At least not all is inauspicious. Now, of all times, it is good that you should be reborn. So long as there is still light, Destruction has not come to full fruition. Not that it does not have its place," he looked nervously over one shoulder, Harmodius had usually been in the shop before. As guardian of ideas against decay, however, he had never been comfortable with Destruction. "The light of the eyes and the light of the mind are not too different. I am glad, glad that you are here and we have met, even if I come too late and in the middle of a mess."

"So long as there is light..." Illumin wasn't sure whether that was reassuring or not. "Do you mean that literally?" he asked, uncertain. "I read in the books that light was the second-born child of Creation, but then he skewed to Destruction and brought darkness into the world..."

If it WAS literal, that sounded a bit worrisome. Destruction certainly hadn't shown any qualms about changing things to suit himself, and Illumin really hoped that didn't mean changing - or eliminating? - HIM as well.

"I mean it both figuratively and literally. Knowledge and Light are the lifegivers and the preservers, gods of the Golden Age at the apex of things. As the worlds crest and fall, do not be alarmed I speak of the ages here, we will wane. But we are reborn, so we have a second chance, an indian summer. If we find the secret of this Aristogeiton, perhaps we can make good on our chance."

Illumin breathed a sigh of relief, then took another sip of tea. "Understood," he said, though he wasn't sure he really did. "Knowledge is also a seeker of truth and reviler of shadows, that hide such?" he added, hopefully. It would be so nice to have a kindred spirit around, that wasn't one of his servants.

"Pana - Medicine - is out searching for Aristogeiton even now." He paused. "Lucius is guiding her - and I made him swear, on a geas that Destruction laid on him, that he would not guide her falsely."

Gianfar felt a wave of exhaustion hit as he finished his drink and his insides warmed. "Yes, always a seeker of truth." *I'm not so sure about a reviler of shadows, though if he means the figurative shadows with which men purposefully cloud thier minds and not the shadows that hold the greatest of knowledges for last when men are able to at last comprehend...* This conversation had been intense. He took the final words about Pana, another whom he did not know, as comfort. Others were working, he could rest for now.

"My bedroom must be inches in dust." He said, thinking of his own weariness now.

"Have you no Aoidei to tend it?" Illumin cocked his head before drinking a bit more tea. "Oh, and you will find that the rooms no longer respond to your wishes, if you had any of that kind," he added, making a face. He really, REALLY missed his sun-tracking windows. He wouldn't even be down here eating if he had those.

... Well, then he wouldn't have met Gianfar. "It is good that you've returned, then. We need all the truth we can find. It is... clouded here."

Gianfar had never shaped his room to his own desires...he like moving his books around manually and touching them. "No, I have no servants. I never did. Once I had a helpmate, a dragon who shared my soul. But he was not reborn." It was a daily truth, so the sadness only sounded tired. **Gabriel could never have fit his fat haunches into a house to clean anyway.** "Perhaps I will take my rest on the couches. Though..." he didn't want to say it, but he was uncomfortable in the common space. He didn't want to wake to meet Harmodius for the first time. He wanted to be cleaned up and wide awake for that.

"A dragon? Destruction seems to think often of such." Illumin gestured to the dragon statues rearing all around the lower form. "Perhaps yours, too, will return?"

He paused. "If you wish, when my servants return, I can send my High Flame Eibhilin to assist you. I do believe she's scrubbed every bit of my room until it shines. If she does it much more, I'm afraid she'll wear holes in the floor and walls."

[XiaoRen]

...and sees Revei again

"You don't wish to be woken by the great and terrible?" Revei inquired from the top of the stairs, leaning on the railing. "I don't blame you." His wings shuddered faintly, and he refolded them. "Welcome back," he added.

Illumin turned at the new voice, and smiled faintly as he saw Revei on the stairs. "Ah, Dream," he said, holding his teacup high. "Gianfar was just teaching me the way of tea, seeing as my servants have seen fit to go where none may find them."

The thought of Gabriel's possible return was too sweet and impossible; it made his chest constrict. Dragons were destroyers as well as protectors, but he would always love them, wise creatures. Perhaps he would broach that subject first with Harmodius when they finally spoke. Dragons might be a common ground.

"Well, if she truly loves to clean so, she will find ample employment in my apartments I am sure. If Light's apartments are polished to shining, they must reflect blindingly to the untempered eye."

Turning at the voice, he saw Revei at the top of the stairs. The knot in his chest loosened and the pleasure of meetings thawed the last of the lesser void's darkness from him. "Revei! My friend. Was it not thus at this espresso bar that we last met?"

"It is white, and finely sculpted - but not reflective. Though, that is an idea for when the ability to mold the rooms returns..." Illumin filed it away for reference, then took another sip while observing the other god's machinations. He wasn't entirely sure what that strange contraption was for. "I will send her up to you, once she has fulfilled her duties. She is strange of appearance, but kind despite her fearsome look."

"It was, I believe. I have made myself learn the arcane arts of coffee, since we last spoke." Revei swept down the stairway - no use making a dramatic entrance before everyone was watching, after all, but now that they had seen him ...

"If you have learned how to make your servants obey and be less contrary," he said dryly to Illumin, "I wish you would teach me. Mine are familiar and meddling little creatures."

"Well, now that you are here to keep Gianfar company, and now that I have had my tea - I believe I will switch places with you, Revei." Illumin nodded to Gianfar, then stole a roll and apple from the counter and headed up the stairs.

Halfway up, he passed Revei and paused to whisper. "I have remembered some things, Dream. We should meet to speak on them - you may find it interesting as well. Good day..." With a sly smile, he continued up the stairs and disappeared from view.

Gianfar watched admiringly as Revei swept down the stairs with a flourish. He was so self-assured.

"I would prefer Illumin's servants to be in my rooms than your unwieldy pets, then."

Reveii cast an interested look after Illumin. Light had remembered something? And such subterfuge - this promised to be interesting, or at least amusing. He made a mental note to visit Illumin later.

"I believe I would too," he told Gianfar, and chuckled. "But they keep the koratti and ciafelli from overwhelming me with useless tidbits, and so I do not mind as much as I say I do. But do not tell them that, or they will get airs," he finished.

"Like their master?" Gianfar said affectionately. He stepped back, espresso in hand, as if inviting Revei to show him the 'arcane' arts he said he'd taught himself.

"Truly it is good to see a familiar face. You are the first. I return and find much changed. Though that Illumin is a forthright fellow." He said this in a tone of high compliment.

"Much like, yes," Revei said, and flipped his hair back from his face in a gesture of deliberate affectation. He worked the espresso machine carefully, making himself a cup of coffee.

"It changed slowly at first," he said thoughtfully. "And then, it was as you see. Flame and darkness and dramatics and uneasiness, and many new godlings."

To Gianfar's approval and dissapointment, Revei worked the espresso machine perfectly.

"I left in search of new knowledge and I come back to find there is much I need to learn here. I should have just stayed. Are Shadow, Flame, and Angst reborn then?" He had taken Revei's words figuratively, as they seemed meant, but it made him wonder. The rebirth of the gods was not unconnected with the fates written in the stars, only some of which he could read. Who was here now, and it what order? Everything mattered.

I have not met Shadow, and Angst has - vanished," Revei answered, his brow creasing slightly. "I believe he sleeps again. Medicine has been reborn, and both of Love; Light you have just seen, and I have met Water and Music, but have not seen them recently." He sipped at his coffee. Had Echo taken over the girl host he had met - how long ago? Time slipped and shifted in his consciousness, so often.

It was good to see Gianfar again. Knowledge was one ofthe few gods here whose company was not a mixed pleasure.

"Water, Music, and Medicine are heartening. Love I am not so sure. Was love this Khiviance, of whom Illumin spoke, who aided Lucius in..." he could not speak it. Lucius, his friend. What could have driven him to such madness. What was he like now? Love could drive even gods to madness.

"Yes. Khiviance. I ... do not trust her." Revei's shoulders hunched slightly. "There is another, now, who has only recently found a host. Rio, he said his name was. I do not know him well enough to know whether he is trustworthy." He didn't particularly care to talk about Khiviance too much.

"I think I will try to meet people slowly. It is intimidating, and I am glad for your descriptions and forewarning. You, Illumin, and Byrne I will trust. Byrne has no head for machinations, Illumin would despise them." And could he say why he trusted Revei so implicitly? Was there any reason other than that he liked him? He was pleasant and a good conversationalist and skilled at chess. That was no reason to trust someone. Still, he could not look at Revei and call suspicion forth. "Truly at this point I would gladly hole up and do nothing but read and drink coffee and play chess with you, if such actions were not irresponsible."

"I find that Illumin and I were once friends, and I suspect we will be and are once more," Revei nodded. "I shall vouch for his character, for what weight that carries." He made a careless gesture. "And I, I have my head too far in the clouds to bother with politic much, and I think perhaps you are there with me. We have yet a chess game to finish, if I can find the board," he added, and smiled.

[XiaoRen]

The Sleepover

"You will have me at a terrible disadvantage, but then you might enjoy that. I am travelweary and am about to go lie down in the dust on my mattress if Illumin's servant is not back soon. And, as you say, I do not wish to sleep on the couch for fear of meetings before I am prepared for them." ((and because Morphy was doing things on it)) Did he dare ask? "I cannot think of a more amiable place to rest than in the care of the god of dreams?" The tone just barely a request.

"My rooms are always open to you, Gianfar," Revei said seriously. Then, more lightly, "I could not bear sleeping in dust, and would not force you to endure such a fate. You would sneeze yourself and all of us awake." He finished his coffee and set the cup in the sink. One of the Aoidei would attend to it.

He bowed with a flourish and gestured towards the stairs. "Come, to your rest, weary traveler."

Gianfar felt a flush of gratitude at how easy Revei made it. The flush made it to his cheeks, most unnervingly. "Thank you. Truly."

He set his coffee cup down in the sink, following Revei's example. "Though I have a great love of old dusty objects, I do not wish to be mistaken for one in the morning." **Of course, I am that color already. Would the dust make a difference? Even Revei's skin marbles with color, and he is but a Morph. How beautiful he will be when he is a youth. And when I am a deity? I will be just as drab. But I should not brood over the trivial. He is being so kind.**

Gianfar pushed his glasses up his nose and said in his sternest voice, "But do not think I have forgotten your challenge. We have yet to see which of us is the better on the black and white field."

"Old dusty objects are generally not so active," Revei laughed, and padded up the stairs, glancing back to be sure Gianfar was following. He had not quite been aware that he missed the quiet grey deity until now, with the easing of something faint and tense.

"A conflict worthy of the history books, in which great warriors test their mettle," he intoned, mock-serious.

Gianfar gathered his staff and then trotted to catch up with Revei. "You just haven't gotten to know the old dusty objects well enough. They'll surprise you."

At the top of the stairs he noted the new doors. Which was Revei's? He had never been to the other godling's apartments. It was childish to feel excited about it. He schooled his expression to be neutral. Or at least he hoped he did.

"The greatest of battles often do not make it to the history books. If we wish for ours to go down, we had best call a witness."

"A frightening thought. Should I wake some morning to find all my own books scuttling about to organize themselves neatly in alphabetical order, Ithink I shall blame you." Revei turned at a door of shifting, mirrored surface that did not quite reflect what was in front of it, and pushed it open to reveal a high, pale-walled chamber, heavily carpeted, a long, low platform at one end. "My humble abode," he said.

"Hm. Witnesses, eh? Perhaps we should not. After all, one of us must win, and the other lose," he mused, a sparkle lurking in his eyes.

"It would only be their rightful revolt to not having been organized at all." Gianfar managed, then he saw the space. Open, calming, but grand. They made no noise on the carpet as they walked. Gianfar squinched his toes in it like moss. "If this is humility I should hate to see pride." His face bespoke how much he liked the decor, spare and yet interesting. Always leading you forward and up. Was that long low platform a sitting area, or was it all the bed?

"Well, I will accept my winning passing into anonimity then."

"Well, my servants do attempt organization ... Humility is not, perhaps, one of my strongest points," Revei admitted, laughing. As they approached, the platform was revealed to be mostly occupied by a tumble of cushions and blankets, indeed a large bed - the altar of Dream.

"I suppose the winner will indeed remain, for posterity, anonymous," Revei agreed equably, "whichever of us it shall be." He gathered up an armful of blankets, glancing around the room with a slight frown. "And of course my own contrary servants are nowhere to be seen when I want them," he muttered. "Well, I shall make up my own pallet; there is only one witness to my tending to myself."

Gianfar set his staff aside. "I will tell no one." he said, amused. "Though I could help." He picked up some blankets and began to arrange them in a nest shape on the bed.

Revei straightened the tangle of blankets into something marginally less untidy, and then made his way around the edge of the platform to seat himself on the wide sill ofthe window behind it, pulling back the curtain enough to make himself comfortable. "Rest," he said. "I must tend to a few small things yet before I sleep."

Out of the shadows, koratti began to coalesce, padding on silent, translucent paws up to their master, clicking their beaks in eagerness to impart their news. One solitary korat, much more solid than the others, very nearly flesh and blood entirely, sat down at Gianfar's feet and regarded him solemnly, unblinking. It opened its beak, and said in a scratchy, distorted emulation of Revei's voice, "Jealous?"

Revei hissed softly. "Hush, Aislin. Please disregard him."

Picking out the tattiest and softest blankets, Gianfar finished making a nest for himself. He was making a similar shape out of satins and pillows next to his own, when the little unnerving creature singled him out and came over. The korat spoke, and Gianfar bristled his wings, shedding a few feathers. "Jealous?" He might look even more faded and tatty than the worst of the blankets, but he wasn't going to take this from a creature. "Knowledge is complete in itself." He was going to go on, but stopped when Revei scolded the creature. To go on would be rude to Revei. It wasn't the whole truth anyway. Knowledge was nothing without someone to know it.

Turning, he pointedly ignored the creature. "Goodnight, Revei."

"Goodnight, Gianfar," Revei answered, giving Gianfar a quick, bright smile. He leaned over to lift Aislin up into his lap as the korat stalked over to him, ruffled and offended. "Sleep well." Sweet dreams. Perhaps all was not well with the world, but for now, this would do.

Gianfar took out the softest of the blankets he'd gathered and placed it over in the nest he'd made for Revei - let him rearrange it as he would. He then buried himself and tangled in the blankets, fluffing his wings a few times. He felt close, comforted, and a little shy. This was so different than the past months of his explorations. He liked the change. He would be sorry to go back to his own apartments, whenever they were clean.

[XiaoRen]

Gianfar Moves in with Revei!

Gianfar returned to Revei's room with a tray with the morning's coffee on it and two elegant european-style glass mugs he had found under the espresso bar. He didn't realize how oppressive the main room felt until he stepped back through Revei's door and felt all his muscles relax. His wings were bristled.

He walked the length of the room and set the tray down on the covers, then sat crosslegged facing Revei with the tray between them.

"Have you seen him yet, Harmodius?"

"Perhaps it is cowardly of me, but I have avoided meeting him face to face." Revei grimaced. "What I see, what I feel, the faint prickle and tug of old memories - all warn me of my sanity, delicate a thing as it is, were I to seek a meeting." He wrapped his fingers around one glass, savoring the warmth. "Such a change from the haven my host sought."

"I have thought much the same thing. Even though He is not on the throne, the downstairs has a brooding air over it. I think I saw a bloodstain on the dais."

It was a darker conversation that he would have chosen, on such a lovely late morning, the most pleasant he has spent in a long time - in amicable company, and handsome, in a ruffled morning way.

"Your rooms are not so bad. Perhaps because you are in them so much."

"My very own hideout," Revei said lightly. "I sleep, and read, and watch the world. As long as I do not go downstairs too much, I am quite mindlessly comfortable." He half-shrugged. "The pendulum will swing again; in that, at least, I have faith."

"You have servants also, to bring you news." It was usual, he supposed, for a god to have servants. He had always been a bit odd that way, even by his own Pantheon's standards. He had been so busy with his teaching, servants would have been a hassle.

"I have spent enough time gathering news. It is time to start teaching again. Perhaps I will start a University." he'd smile mischevously "You could enroll."

"Nuisances, all of them," Revei said fondly. None of his shadowy little creatures were in sight just now, resting, perhaps.

"We all have had Temples, grand and lofty things, and temples, where the heady wine of heedless, heart-deep worship hides." He gestured grandly. "How could I fail to learn, in such a temple, with such a teacher?"


He looked around as if seeing book-lined walls and rows of desks. Standing, he took up his staff and began to pace back and forth and give a lecture to the empty room, facing away from Revei.

"Now class, on the importance of dreams. On page 100 of volume two of "Gianfar's Sage Advice" you will read "The subconscious mind needs to be nurtured as much as the conscious one does, and the best way to do this is to engage in that activity we all tend to forget - sleep. Sleep in the company of a Dream Lord is, to normal sleep, ten times as relaxing and nurturing to the subconscious mind. So if you must sleep rarely, see if you can't find yourself such a deity."

He turned and rested both hands on top of his staff and his chin on top of those, looking at Revei. The image of the bookshelves had been a pleasant one. They would fit well along those long walls. Was Revei joking though, or would he allow it? Could he dare to ask to share the other god's space? His grey eyes showed a multitude of thoughts, playful and troubled both, panning behind his glasses.

Revei laughed, eyes sparkling. "You flatter me," he returned, smiling. He was pleased enough to be flattered, though. It was a kind of teasing less barbed than some, and far more relaxing than most. "A fine lesson, for those who heed it."

Dream Lords. His thoughts skimmed to Morpheus, and then as quickly away, in a practiced evasion. It was not a path of thought that would get him anywhere he wanted to be, and he did not want to be sour and brooding now, of all times.

"Flattery is the infantry of Negotiation." Gianfar said. He watched the other god carefully, and there was a twitching hint of a frown at the corner of Revei's pale mouth, though it dissappeared quickly. Gianfar almost lost his nerve.

"Would you...would it be...don't you think this room could use some bookshelves?" Well, that had been neither clear nor elegantly worded. He failed himself on this test. What was spoken was spoken, though.

"Negotiation, who still slumbers," Revei joked, solemn-faced.

He studied Gianfar's expression, thoughtful and faintly startled. Was Knowledge suggesting what he thought? An unexpected if not unwelcome concept. "There's certainly wall space," he replied, "though I am certain Garnet and Opal would grumble at the dusting. But they do that now." That was an awkward reply, but if they were not yet speaking in open terms ...

Gianfar pushed his glasses up his nose, looking off out the window. The garden outside looked withered.

"Where there is space for my books might there be space for...me?"

He wanted to fly away, right out the window into the garden. Why could he speak on and on to people, fearless, when he was speaking of anything but himself?

"There would, at that," Revei answered, and sipped at his coffee, relieved to have it out clearly in the open. "It would save trouble, less dusting for you." And he would have company, distraction from his darker thoughts. Good company.

He rearranged himself into a lotus position, meditative. Gianfar was more friend than ally, capable of calling forth a smile from him when he was dark-hearted. Of the deities in the house, there were no others he would prefer to share space with. That was not something he could say - even, perhaps, a little embarrassing to think - and so he contented himself with, "You are welcome, my friend."

[XiaoRen]

Gianfar Meets Seppa (meep's pard host for mr dragony king)

While it might be severely lacking in taste and any kind of pleasing atmosphere, Seppa did have to admit that if nothing else, this place had comfortable couches. So really, things could have been worse, but they still could have been much better.

With an abrupt snort, the wingzelle cleared some of the ash that was bothering her nose; it wasn't exactly a nice thing to do, especially on someone else's couch, but she wasn't too worried about it. It was marginally better than picking your nose and wiping it on something, she was pretty sure...not that she'd ever actually picked her nose, being four-footed and unable to do so.

Gianfar camed down the stairs from the room he now shared with Revei. He had been spending most of his time *in* the room, arranging and rearranging his library on the new bookshelves. He had, though he wouldn't admit it, started to get lonely. He knew Illumin still lived in the shop, and thought if he went downstairs he might find the other god. No one was downstairs, however, but a large, winged quadruped reclining on one of the couches.

Curious as to what sort of creature it was, and whether it was a host or perhaps a pet to one of the other gods, he approached it. But he kept a firm hand on his staff, in case he needed to block the swipe of a paw. "I haven't seen you here before." he said in his usual sedate, soft-spoken tone of voice.

Seppa had just lifted a paw to scratch lazily behind her ear when the gray god came into view, and she finished the job before paying him any real attention. And when she did lift her head, her green eyes were narrowed as she looked him over. With all that gray, he looked kind of like he was permanently dusty somehow.

"I haven't seen you before, either, was her short, reply in her strong mindvoice. "I come around now and then, though."

A telapath, how exciting! Still very much a feline, though. Gianfar sat down on an adjacent overstuffed chair. Focussing his mind the way he did before preparing notes or giving a lecture, he thought at the pard, "I rarely emerge from my studies, a fault, perhaps. Now, are you the possessor of a jewel?" He didn't look the pard in the eye, since that was an agressive gesture in the language of most large predators, and also because he didn't want to tip her off that he was trying to speak to her. He wanted to see if she could read his thoughts.

It was a mild, yet pleasant, surprise to have someone who not only wasn't surprised at all by her way of speaking (and who didn't look around to see if it was someone else, although he'd acknowledged her from the first), but who spoke back the same way. It drew a pleased purr from her throat, but it lasted only a moment before her expression fell.

Jewels, always jewels. "I've been given to understand that the possessing goes the other way around."

Well, at least someone didn't beat around the bush. It still continued to vex her that anyone would choose this. And if there were others who wanted it, then why was she caught up in it unwilling? "I'm here because Illumin suggested I should spend time here and meet other...hosts. And it's here or home or outside, and here is preferable for now, as absurd is that is."

It was only the god's speech that came through to her; she had a well-disciplined mind from her talent and training as a mage, but no amount of concentration would allow her to pick up more than his words. It was her focus that allowed her to speak, and his that allowed her to hear him.

"Illumin. He is the type to give sage, if one-sided, advice I would wager. I don't know him well, but I like him very much. I was hoping he might be around when I came downstairs. Are you a friend of his, then? I am Gianfar, the god of Knowledge. And it is my pleasure to meet you."

He set his staff by his feet, confident now that he would not need it. The self-possessed redolence of the cat made him sit up very straight by contrast, wings stiff. Students who lounged vexed him, even if they were able to pay attention without looking like they were. She was not his student, however, and as far as he knew a cat was only fully attentive when it was hunting.

"No, not a friend," she answered frankly, with a wry quirk of her feline lips that was something like a smile. "We rub each other the wrong way, I think...and he stepped on my tail, the first time we met."

"Gianfar. I'm Seppa, metal mage." So she wasn't a god, but she wasn't ordinary, either...it was only fair to tag on a little footnote to herself, if he got to. As for her posture, it wasn't that the wingzelle wasn't attentive, only that she had that feline way of not looking it, that calculated disinterest with anything that wasn't food.

Or shiny. Seppa liked shiny things, too.

She had not yet answered, and he began to think it was purposeful, why she was in the shop to begin with. Well, he would not press then. Illumin had stepped on her tail? Well he was lucky to not have any scratches. She said "mage" as a title in a way that suggested it was a position of renoun, but not worship or fear among her people. Perhaps a more useful aristocrat.

"Is this the magic of shaping metal, or a more alchemical changing of the substance of metal, or control over things which are metal...?"

He wanted to ask her more, about the race she came from, where they hailed from, if mages were common among them. He chided himself for turning everything into research. How would Revei appreciate this meeting, Gianfar wondered? It was a new game of his, an attempt to see the world through anothers eyes. He imagined Revei would appreciate her shadowy beauty, and would sit and trade riddles with her till their egos clashed.

"Any and all of that," she answered. "It's very useful for opening doors, in particular." Seppa turned a paw, flexing it. She was at heart a practical creature, and being able to turn doorknobs was a fantastic perk, in her estimation.

Others might latch onto the alchemist's dream of turning one metal into another, particularly into a more valuable one such as gold, but proud though she was, Seppa was also scrupulously honest, and it ruffled her sense of right to use that skill to make herself wealthy.

And what would she do with riches, anyway? Hoard them away like some furred dragon? No, it just didn't make any sort of sense to her.

Gianfar laughed with pleasure at the mundane use of the power. He had a great liking for the mundane.

"Useful, indeed. I wish I had such a power over paper, and I would not need a stepladder to reach half of my books. In days such as these, men would ask you to build them weapons. Better to open doors."

He stood and brushed off his robes, though it was difficult to tell if there had been any dust or ash on them, and if so, if any came off.

"If I stay any longer, you will find me interrogating you. I tend to put off interesting strangers that way. Though we are no longer strangers." He nodded to her in respect. "If you have any questions about the jewels and their relationships to their hosts, or on anything else, please feel free to ask me. My room is just upstairs." He blushed at the thought of his new living space, and his eagerness to return to it and the one who was there.

Seppa chuckled, and this sound was audible, if a bit strange coming from her feline throat. She was beginning to think she might like Gianfar. Maybe. "At least you can read them, I have to ask someone to turn the pages for me. Volunteers are in short supply for that."

The reference to making weapons, though...it reminded her to wonder if she'd ever make a sword for Iden's little dog-child, or if she'd be gone before he was ready for it. It was a sobering thought.

"Maybe we'll meet again, and then you can ask your questions. I imagine you'd appreciate the answers more than most." Still comfortable where she was, instead of standing as a way of beginning to excuse herself, she rested her head on the arm of the sofa, always ready to go back to napping. "I'll remember that. Thank you, Gianfar."

[XiaoRen]

I think there was another gianfar revei rp to put here?

[XiaoRen]

Pride goes before Destruction
and haughtiness before a fall...

After another week in the isolation of the room, it was time to emerge again. Not that it was isolation. He had spent his time between the pleasant distraction of games and riddles with Revei and the organization of his library in Revei's room.

He had written many journals in his travels, copying from tattered and blackened curls of vellum or worn stone, accounts of the gods and their dealings with mortals. Gathering information and compiling it were very different. After the long harvest, now was the winter's joy of sitting in his storehouse and sorting what he had preserved. There were so many journals, he had only managed to read one shelf's worth so far. When he had been transcribing his handwriting mimicked the source, but when he had been brainstorming it became nearly unreadable. He should allow his hand more time to follow his brain, next time he wrote something.

Amidst such pleasures, it was easy to forget the setting outside of Revei's haven. The shop was lit now by lanterns with no telling of day or night for the ash outside, piled against the windows like black snow. There was a dais and a throne and dragons to guard it. The espresso machine still stood, but the coffee grounds mixed with the everpresent black flakes and tasted bitter. Still, he could use some of it.

Slipping out, staff in hand, Gianfar descended the staircase to get his weekly caffeine fix.



The whole that Was seemed to be holding its breath, and for all that he may try to focus, spreading his fingers thin and out into the fabrics, he could not feel why it was. Things here and there crumbled in his distractions, a darkest black shadow over what had been a glimmering throne. Where were they all?

They were missing, long-tarrying and slow to waken. He would need them soon.

Footsteps? Destruction opened his eyes to slits and peered out through the ash, his tails sliding over the stone eagerly, and then he stood.

Someone was descending, and curiosity was not unknown to pure passion.



So intent was he on the espresso machine, that Gianfar made it down the stairs and halfway to the coffee bar, his back to the dais. Only then did he feel something massive looming behind him. A shadow, cast with the fire behind the great form, enveloped Gianfar's smaller shadow. He could make out lashing limbs, like tentacles or tails...

His first instinct was a visceral, basic fear. Self-preservation. His second, and the stronger, was curiosity. It was inevitable now, to meet the Lord of this Age. Would he be beautiful? Hideous? Would he even have a stable physical form at all?

Gianfar turned, straightening his back and pushing his glasses up on his face as if to see more clearly.





Destruction's wings perked as he looked down at the waif before him, and he smiled. "Gianfar....I had not like to recognize the cadence of your foot upon the stair. Rare it is enough to hear it. Perhaps you and Revei should take the machine upstairs....few others make use of it, let alone so expertly."



The most jarring thing was that Destruction was recognizeable as Harmodius. The features were the same, just larger than life, black and glowing red...and goodgracious his muscles. Gianfar looked Destruction up and down, wanting to document a description of him later. He realized a moment too late that this was rude, not having answered, so he bowed.

"Destruction, I apologize for not calling on you when I returned." He straigtened, settling with his head tilted back to meet the red gaze. He was always slow to catch on to humor, so he took Destruction at his word. "If either of us were strong enough to lift the thing, I assure you we would. If a celestial body were able to have addictions, I would have headaches constantly from my neglect to come downstairs and make myself coffee."




"Shall I hope that born of you both will be Caffeine and Opiates? A fine pair that would be, like to Eamnonn's brood."

Destruction shifted, to lean with his back against teh dark wall. Perhaps the casual feel of teh gesture would be more successful in a less opulent form, but he decided to pay the courtesy no mind. Knowledge did not seem bothered. "How go your studies? Have you not brushed up enough to return to the world and teach the masses again? Your work is missed at large."

The mere thought of he and Revei having children spread a red across Gainfar's cheeks like a reflection of the light in Destruction's eyes. He would stammer if he tried to reply. It was a relief, at first, when Destruction shifted the topic to the children he was always creating - his journals and lectures.

"Not so much brushing up as madly gathering by instinct provisions against a storm I did not forsee. It is true though, that I have delayed in rebuilding my University. A library is a good start, but there are no students, and R...Revei's room will not be sufficient to hold them." Curses, he did stammer, and his blush was still there. Looking down from Destruction's face, he saw the glimmer of a scar just to the left of his sternum, over his crossed arms.

"It is possible that I tarry because I am half caught in dreams and forget too easily what is reality. But it is also a question in my mind, how long would any temple I erect stand? Should I not go out again and catch up even more threads of wisdom, and sketch for posterity the tapestry of what Was before it has frayed beyond recall?"




"How long would you let it stand of your own accord, Knowledge? It is your kingdom that wrought for me so much length of my tails....where came these great war engines? These fantastic bombs? The plagues in envelops? Your science and engineering have mighty feats, and for that I shall always have love for you. How long would your own engines of my will let your own temple stand? Long, I would wager. You are no slouch at politico games if you would set your mind to it. You could command the mortals and their respect....guide them as it suited you. Knowledge is Power. " His tails slithered languidly, one of them raising and slapping the ground with a roil and crack like a hundred whips. Perhaps he should not goad to debate? But it had been so long.....



At the crack, Gianfar bristled his wings. It was not there he felt the challenge though, but in the layout of the words. Concept, followed by example, and a theorized result. It was like the smell of sweat and liniment to a wrestler who had nearly forgotten the thrill of his sport. He wished he had a podium, as he was perhaps half the height of his challenger, but they had no audience, needed no Forum.

"I can hear the other mortal phrase implied by your argument that knowledge is power. "Power currupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely." It is true, that knowledge encompasses all those things. On the path to every cure, the mortals discovered new diseases, and now have found how to wield them. For every dicourse on how to rule, there is one on how to conquer. Each atrocity will be repeated, learned from, executed more brilliantly the next time. And always I will be there."

He paused, this being the warmup, his argument not yet begun, as all he had done was paraphrase Destructions point. By elaborating on it, he felt its weight, as if he had taken a sword for a moment from an opponent's hand and was testing its balance. That was it.

"Knowledge would be poor indeed, if it became nothing more than the power to make men learn the ultimate lesson of their own lust for the power that comes of knowledge. It would be a snake devouring its own tail and coming eventually to nothing.

If my left hand holds the keys to unlock atoms and the codes that comprise plagues, then my right holds a quill to record the wisdom of the prophets and buddhas and heroes of all the ages - men of peace, mercy and bravery. Knowledge is the mirror for men to see the greatness of their past and be inspired, and also to see the mistakes of their predecessors and be warned. Knowledge is the light under which creativity flourishes - were not the great artists of old also scientists and astronomers?

In short, I am balanced. As much a scalpel to heal as a sword to run through. You, however, have forgotten balance. Does your heart weigh so much that its loss has tipped the scales completely?"



Destruction’s smile faded. Gianfar’s final words had felt less like a debate about whether destruction existed in knowledge, that having been acknowledged and dropped as rocks, and more like a direct affront on account of some long-considered soliloquy. A goad, a reply, and it was the shortest debate he had encountered, shifting to something else…

”Forgotten balance? It is not my nature or need for it. I am the devouring serpent.“

Specifically the wording. The direct and accusing ‘You’ followed by the demeaning ‘however’, as though the grey god were correcting a truant student of a simpleton’s mistake.

”A heart is a frail and mortal thing, and assignment of their form. Mine, that I should even have one, weighs no more. It tips no scales. What is hollow, eaten away, cannot influence except by its lack.”

”But what is lack of heart except exactly as I was in the Beginning, raw, pure again. As I bring ends, part of me was ended. “Destruction sighed, pinning his ears and leaving it go. “Our heart was only the impetus that demanded the shift. Creation was exhausted in spirit and magic, the wound critical. So skinned, this form can heal. “

Destruction’s tone was a dismissal. Was he bored so quickly of the debate he had started? How like a tyrant, to walk down from his stone dais to the forum floor, pretending interest. A single sally and he sighs, and the words from his lips are law. Gianfar had just begun. He ignored the obvious cue and spoke on. The very futility of the act fueled what he realized was anger.

“Heal? Can Destruction heal, even himself? By your own admission you name that wound in your chest emptiness. As you gather power, won’t it widen? Already you have devoured this city, the world that houses it, into that hole. Is it any fuller? The shining chariots will fall, one after another, into the wolf Skoll’s maw. When the stars are gone and all is frozen, even then…will you heal?

Something has changed in you, since you were first pure and raw. Things are not as they were in the Beginning. Ever since you saw his face, things have not been the same. Things happen out of turn. The signs are not right for this to be the End that was prophesied in the first moments of your Twin being. They were not right the last time, when we Faded.”

Harmodius was He Who Spoke, not he who listened. In some texts the first word from Harmodius’ lips had brought the stars into being. It could be argued if they came from him as Creation, and would fall to him as Destruction, were they not all but facets of his being? Certainly He had always seemed to think His own counsel was as good as universal consensus.

Gianfar made a “tch” aloud. It had always rankled. Hadn’t there been others who likewise disagreed?

With a strange shift in himself, like a tumbler in a lock dislodged by a thief’s pick, a single name fell into place.

Samyaza.

There were slots for a whole array of thoughts to go with it. But let them fall, and the lock to some secret and ancient memory would open. There couldn’t be a more dangerous time or place. He banished it with a wave of his staff, not considering what a threatening gesture this was.



Ever since you saw his face, things have not been the same.


”Is that what this is to be about again? The debate, as I recall, was started on the nature of knowledge, not on the death of Aristogeiton or whether his place in the order of the world was rightful or not. That, old man, is a debate long ago finished exactly as you say, with the blighted deaths of all, supporters or detractors regarding my consort. Will you blame the Fading on him then? As though he engineered it?“

They were not right the last time, when we Faded. The implications of that were true enough, he had failed them all. The Fading was his fault, an unknown, unexpected event against which no power had prevailed. They had all withered, bones and taught mummy skins into choking dust.

A vocalization, dismissing.
And....-
”-You dare-”

”You come down from your own lofty isolation to lecture me, as though you have experienced except by cold and removed books the weariness of existence? You know no more then what is the sum of my being, and are to afraid to face it yourself....must hide and watch and never engage except....no.....start running, I hate a stationary target. You will learn from me this time, teacher, and it will be experiential, not from a book. Let's define my nature in such an experiment. Experience is the best teacher, is it not?“

His claws shone in an arch, a half-hearted warning blow, as the air crackled and smouldered.

Samyaza. The name was like a charm, a summons of wrath. No sooner had he thought it than Destruction was towering, words waking in His mouth, the air coming to red veined life around them, finally interested. Gianfar braced his feet, flared silver wings, drawing himself up against the inexorable blow.

No, even Destruction could not read thoughts.
I have hidden things from him before.
Memory had never been this insistent, heavy as water behind the door, leaking through the seams.
He refused it.

The blow came, hard to tell if it was heat, shadow, or gold claws. He slid back, his staff braced before him, now carved with smoking cuniform slashes. Gianfar felt his bones whole, his skin still wrapping flesh, the cool tiles of the floor safely beneath his feet and not cratered and smeared with silver feathers. This was still just an argument. There might be more words.

Fear of the name had made him deaf, maybe stupid. Destruction said clearly why He was angry.
It was no more than that He did not like to be lectured.

“Was that what this was about? I asked if any temple would stand before you said I would bring it down myself.” I am doing just that. He gave me a running start. Why am I not running? “I cast my stone first. That debate is the only thing that didn’t end. ”

Cold, removed, inexperienced…each word was a red line in him, too thin now to show how deep it cut. Destruction was a quick handed vivisectionist. They both knew how to wield truth, and the damage was escalating.

“My credentials don’t matter.” He spluttered, somehow proud enough to be defensive in the face of his Beginning and End. Red filmed his vision, or it might have been the actual cast of the room.
“No one else knows enough to say it. I don’t blame Aristogeiton for dying. Mortals die! I blame You for being unstable. You are the cornerstone of existence - and things are going to hell again because you can’t get ********!”




It took so much to bring them forth again.



”So can gods. Too simple. "
"Knowledge knows whats in his head; the head is on a body, the body in a place, the place upon an plane, the plane upon a bough uplifted-“

The tails lashed forward as the cadence of the words escalated. The volume became echoing drums to ripple along the walls.

They wrapped, thick constrictors up the silver grey legs, staff, bunched the robes. Lifted as the chant was lifted.

”The boughs.....the boughs freckle the older places, planes before the before where youngest, first feet echoed in laughter and discovery. The roots....beyond the boughs, the roots, the veins, the shining mane and starlight eyes, there were cycles, times, it set into motion a process of which those within...”

”Vulgar.“

You may sit and dwell and argue what is true, but what of Truth? Afraid of the Begining. Only that which can be controled, measured, known, as though there was no place for mystery.


He brought his claws upon the staff again, but the heat ate up the wood as a flash fire, and the whole rod was a glowing brand before it was charcoal, then ash.


That voice in anger. Gianfar felt like some fool wizard, standing on a stone in the middle of the sea, staff raised, demanding Leviathan come forth. Now the dragon rose.

What was I thinking?

He wasn’t now. It took a mind as deep and old as his to receive the implications of that sound. What other Cave could hold the shadow of such a Form? Even so, it took all the space in his splitting skull, all other thoughts scoured to dust by the echo of the drumbeats, the lashing of tails, roots of the world tree that crush and rot, devour the very fruit its branches bear.

Tails!
There were coils, hot and solid, forgemetal snakes with searching tongues, bone creaking pain and lazy flickers against his thighs.

His body, gift of the soul he had devoured, knew better how to panic. He was rigid, eyes wider than his glasses, heart racing a pattering beat as insignificant as a mouse running before the pounding of a draft horse on a tin roof. He drew breath as if to scream, but didn’t scream. (Though here was proof that Gianfar truly owned the body, even its instincts – that inhale sounded like an indignant gasp).

The staff in his hand burned so hot and sudden that it didn’t brand his flesh. There were ashes falling through his fingers, sand through a broken hourglass. His eyes went sideways to his empty hand. Then he was moving, pushing frantic with two hands against seven living coils, each having its own ideas about where to go. He fluttered wildly, a caught dove.

The only answer he had for Destruction was , “No!”

[XiaoRen]

another spot just in case

[XiaoRen]

((I'm assuming s**t went down with Gianfar and Destruction from an RP Ivy and I need to finish from sometime in the summer... eek And since I've had Gianfar on haitus since then, I shall say that IC he fled the shop wounded, and Revei didn't know what was up and figured he just wasn't around. Now he has come back.))

It was strange to trace the path back to the temple. He would call it that. It was a shop no longer, with that dais and throne there. The way it all looked the same sent chills up his spine. He did not feel the same.

He had left in full flight, not wanting to return to the darkness, in the end. He had used his full strength against Destruction, and it had done little, but he trusted his words had cut deep. Words could always do more lasting damage than physical force. Destruction would not have been so angry, otherwise. If they had lodged firmly enough, perhaps, given time, his words might even sway the unbalanced diety. That is what he had told himself, as he fled.

Weak from his wounds, ashamed of his burns, his glasses broken and his robes in tatters, he had found a place to hide. The ruins of a university - he knew the roofless doric columns and quadrangles covered in sere grass were new constructions, by his thinking. But with all the students fled, and the false aged grey of smokestain on everything, the ruins could as easily have been of his University, eons ago. The library had been mostly intact. Funny, how books are so difficult to burn. He had stayed there he didn't know how long.

The worst of it had been to leave Revei like that, without a word. Guilt was a rare emotion. He had tested its weight in his hands, looking at it in every light, and decided that it was a unique substance. It grew heavier with time.

So he had returned, at last, to tell Revei why he had disappeared, and to ask his forgiveness. Hiding in an empty university was just a physical metaphor for all he'd done since being reborn anyway. Where were the students? Who was he teaching? Were the words of the dead, pages and pages of them, really all he needed for company? He had been making a mausoleum of what should be his own temple. Enough.

With firm strides and a lifted chin, his trusty staff, though blackened, still in his hand. His glasses were gone. He had not found a place to replace them, and they had been a vanity anyway. With robes he had been lucky. There had been chests of ornate robes and stoles in the university store rooms. They would have been the graduating garments of the various colleges. The ones he wore now had looked sturdy and like they would stain easily, or else he would never have chosen something so ostentatious. Layers of dark brown linen were starched into two broad, flat pleats at the front, like lapels. These and the hem of the bottom and sleeves was heavily embroidered with silver and gold thread, a motif of the crests of the colleges hung amid stylized vines. The cloth had been treated so that water rolled right off of it. It's inside was lined with brown velvet that showed at the neck, and in the huge mouths of the sleeves. The stole was deep purple, likewise lined and embroidered. He had almost left it behind, but it worked well to cover one's head in the rain.

He pushed it back from his head now, and walked in without knocking. He did not look to the dais. That was not who he was here to see. The rituals of the espresso machine had long been forgotten. He had taken neither food nor drink during his recovery. Straight for the stairs he went, and up. It was only when he reached Revei's door that he felt trepidition. He could not bear to touch the handle.

Would Revei be there, on the other side, whispering to his dream shadows, sending little escapes to the desperate humans? Would he smile when he answered the door, or would his face be lined with worry and pain? And which did he want it to be? He had missed Revei terribly, and could not deny that he hoped Revei felt the same.

With a sigh he raised his staff, and rapped sharply upon the door.

[prolixity]

((Gotcha~ *makes a couple of minor rewordings*))

A sound at the door. Someone was summoning him. Revei pondered not answering it for a long moment. There was nobody he wanted to see just now. But Topaz had stirred from her nest at the side of the altar with a curious mew, and she was giving him the thoughtful look that meant that if he didn't go to answer it, she would; and whatever he might feel like, it was probably worse to have the childlike, catlike Aiode greet whoever had come to see him. He rose from the ledge of the window, wrapped the long robe tighter around himself, and went to open the door his feet making no sound on the soft carpets.

He almost failed to recognize the deity who stood there, in heavy, ornate robes, grey hair falling over his face. But - "Gianfar," he said, startled, a soft sick twist settling in the pit of his stomach. Why had his friend vanished? Why had he come back now? "You have lost your glasses," he added, inconsequentially. His wings shifted nervously on his back.