2017-07-21: The Bird's First Step
- Log: The Bird's First Step
- Cast: Riesenlied, K.K.
- Where: Lacour
- Date: 21st June 2017
- Summary: Wounded from her battle with Id, Riesenlied attempts to grapple with her conscience, and unexpected aid comes from...
<Pose Tracker> Riesenlied has posed.
Riesenlied has had a rather eventful -- to say the least -- last few weeks, since she's last met K.K. in Old Petra.
For one, Old Petra exists no more. The Trial Knight could no doubt have sensed it, if not seen it through some means of their own -- the visitation upon the Tainted village by the Crimson Gear, and its equally enigmatic red-haired pilot, Id... the one Riesenlied pursued from Elru in the wake of the Garlylean massacre, for fear of a repeat. And fears they were, and fears realised moreso -- in the wake of its destruction, their village was destroyed, and much of the Tainted and soldiers -- human and demon alike -- were slain.
Were it not for the assistance of the Drifters on hand, as well as the timely intervention of the Fallen Sword Laevateinn letting her commune with Id in a mental landscape, it could have well been another massacre. But as it stands... they survive, to live another day, having buried their dead...
... but it wasn't without cost.
Riesenlied was in a rather damaged state, mentally, emotionally, thanks to Id -- fit with pique and anxiety attacks, and one strickens her during one of her meditative moments at a quiet open chamber by the side of the coliseum. It's tranquil, yet she starts to tremble and cup her mouth--
You coward.
A frosted cross swings in the background, its jewel shimmering with an eerie cold light.
The shaman-garbed girl tilts her head, eyes covered with her tattered fringes as she reaches forward to the seated Riesenlied.
Why do you not hate? Hate for me. You must hate them.
She places her bloodied hands over her eyes. The blood trickles over Riesenlied's cheeks.
--and she lets out a startled noise again, profusely sweating, coughing in a little fit. She must get over this. She must overcome her weaknesses, physical, mental, emotional... and she must expore what it that light of hers means. What was it that let her communicate with Id? Laevateinn had no such power before -- she only dreamt of such fancies, only able to try to render her opponents to a pacified state... but to be able to reach out and empathically connect...
... had something inside of her started to stir?
<Pose Tracker> K.K. has posed.
In many ways, the loss of Old Petra was an inevitability the very day Adlehyde burned. That it has fallen, in itself, is far from surprising, nor even necessarily a true loss.
The circumstances surrounding it though -- the /way/ it fell --
That is another matter entirely.
The sun pierces through the faint coverage of rolling white clouds as they drift lazily across the sky blue heavens. Shards of sunlight illuminate that open chamber within the coliseum, enhancing a serenity that is only there in the most superficial sense of the word. There is a calm there that does not seem to resonate with its seemingly lone companion. In the subtle tremors of her body. In the flashes of memories. In the haze of disquiet. And as it reaches its fever pitch --
"You are unquiet of spirit."
The metal footfalls of booted heels on stone floor rings out as the shadows peel away from the open entrance to that humble chamber, revealing the telltale gleam of white armor beneath an unremarkable, tanned cloak. But despite that new addition, the voice behind it is unmistakable for how utterly mistakable it is, warped and tinny beyond identification in a way that makes it utterly identifiable.
The Trial Knight does not move from that entrance. For now, they just stand, the weight of their stare upon Riesenlied and her trembling, anxious state, their words hanging in the air less of a question and more of a statement of no less than absolute certainty.
"You are unsure of yourself, Riesenlied. Why?"
<Pose Tracker> Riesenlied has posed.
Sunlight glistens down upon Riesenlied's hair, uncovered by the hood as she -- lets out another choking breath, pulling her head up as she struggles to upright herself and into a largely seated position. Her Ellurian cloaks and capelet is still draped about her, and she takes a small cloth to dab at her forehead.
"K.K..."
She looks back towards the white-armored figure. She lowers her head as she murmurs, "... why am I uncertain ...?"
She places her hands to her chest.
"I should not be uncertain... I should be..."
She shakes her head, still feeling that thrum rather anxiously picking away at her mind, gnawing at her conscience. "Something... strange happened. I was able to speak with... -him-... mentally... emotionally..."
She frowns deeper. "Hundreds of death, K.K. How is it that one can suffer through what seems like eternity, over and over again?"
To understand is to experience pain. Yet that pain is all the worthwhile if it means the bird can take even the smallest, first fragile step out the cage. But it is wounded, having fallen. It yearns to seek true freedom and fly, yet it does not know how to. Not yet.
<Pose Tracker> K.K. has posed.
I was able to speak with -him-, says Riesenlied, and it elicits the slow tilt of that white, horned helm to the right. A curious cant of a gesture, but those words are otherwise met with silence -- as if to let the Tainted work through her own thoughts, even as the anxiety so clearly chews at her incessantly. In the tug of her frown. In the hesitation of her voice. How is it?
"When one is saddled with purpose, there is very little in this world that cannot be achieved. Even when one wishes for anything but."
Stepping fully out of the shadowed overhang of the entrance, K.K.'s footfalls ring across the chamber walls as they approach Riesenlied. They fall silent once more as streams of sunlight reflect off the pristine white glimpses of their armor, their arms crossing over their chest as they turn their attention out towards the clouded skies beyond.
"And there is very little that cannot be inflicted upon others, in the name of it."
That helm tilts, back towards Riesenlied, as she hesitates. Hesitates at the sight of freedom past those bars. "Is this what unsettles you so? Then you have not made such a contact in the past. What did you glean, Riesenlied? Think not upon what you saw. Think upon what you felt. Strip away the images until there is naught but the core of it, and then tell me what you have grasped. What you have experienced."
<Pose Tracker> Riesenlied has posed.
Riesenlied thinks back. Not only on the memory, of the moment of her intercession upon him... but also of what K.K. has been saying to her as well. Not just now, but in the past -- of how to focus, how to omit distractions and render away the unnecessary until she can hone in on what is truly important. Let not the little claws of her anxieties continue to breach her.
"... he had history with Lord Siegfried. They fought. And when I saw Lord Siegfried struck down ... it was the least I could do to intrude and protect him. Protect my friend."
A friend, she says. Does Siegfried think otherwise? It is dangerous, yet it is true to what she feels. She cannot abide in believing untruths.
She sees that dark room once more. The cross. The chair. Much like how it's manifested in her mind, albeit less frosted.
"He taunted me... no, those taunts are immaterial. I could sense the raw nature of his revelry, how deeply entranced he was in instinct."
She starts to calm down, lacing her hands closer to her heart. It's like prayer.
"Making excuses... passing blame upon others... ...am I a coward...?"
She hesitates, and lowers her head.
"In ways... yet, a coward would not deign to desire to understand. To understand truth, to understand pain... to understand suffering. To acknowledge suffering."
She looks up towards K.K. There are no eyes, nor eyeslits in the white-garbed knight's helmets, but it feels, just for a moment, like she can sense something a little further.
"... they call me a machine. They say that feeling and emotion is unfitting for me. But I know that is not true. ... I... I want to learn more." Her wings start to spread behind her, those motes of light beginning to shimmer and cascade around her in a genteel, almost lazy pattern. The light of empathy, seeking to reach out, beyond senses.
"This much... I must, if we are to succeed."
<Pose Tracker> K.K. has posed.
A friend. Not her superior, nor even a comrade; K.K.'s attention turns upon Riesenlied in silent thought as the Metal Demon ruminates. It lingers there, but the knight remains unobtrusive -- as if more interested in seeing the results of Riesenlied's process unimpeded by outside influence.
"What make you of him? A cunning predator, striking in the ideal moment to capitulate on weakness and opportunity? Or a ravenous beast, snapping out because it is all they know, all they have been taught to expect?"
The questions they let linger as if not expecting an answer immediately -- or perhaps ever. As if they were simply something to consider -- something to dwell upon, even as Riesenlied pushes on.
...am I a coward...?
The knight shifts, hands uncrossing from their chest. They kneel, slowly and with deliberation, metal scraping stone as they are brought to eye level with the Tainted woman before them. She wants to learn more. Those wings spread. Light grows, reflected upon the pristine surface of heavy armor in little gleams of light.
"What makes a coward, Riesenlied? It is not but fear, or uncertainty. Such things are human. It is not but acting upon impulse, nor is it in the act of failing. We have all of us failed, and we shall fail yet more in the future still.
"Cowardice is letting these things cast us astray from the path we mean to walk. So tell me, Riesenlied -- upon what path do you walk? If you believe this need of yours to learn to be another step along the way, then commit to it. Do not be deterred. And should it be so... I shall aid you in this endeavor."
<Pose Tracker> Riesenlied has posed.
"... perhaps a beast would be more accurate, yet ... there is more intellect there than a mere beast. It was not merely one who snaps out because it is all they know ... but because they consciously choose to. He taunted me and Lord Siegfried... 'dishonest', he said. And in many ways, that distinction... that conscious choice to indulge upon instinct... perhaps out of pain, out of self-protection... that hedonism..."
She narrows her eyes. "That is what truly makes him dangerous."
She watches K.K. kneel, just before her. What makes a coward? It is more than fear. To let them cast us astray...
"... Malevolence. Resonance. That I can now see, and speak to Miss Ragnell... it is not coincidence, but a measure of the path that you have set me on. I would yet desire to understand more, K.K. I can't shy from this path. Not for my mission, not for the Ebony Wings... not for Lord Siegfried or the Demons, and not for Filgaia."
Her eyes narrow, as that cloudy anxiety begins to wash away from her eyes. There is focus and resolve there.
"Please... aid me."
The emanation broadens further, a kindling light similar to that of the light of Laevateinn, a mote of empathy that seeks to reach out upon a sense beyond sense.
<Pose Tracker> K.K. has posed.
"Then when next you happen upon him, remember that. Do not forget just what makes him truly dangerous."
And slowly, the unease and dread bleed away from Riesenlied's expression; the Trial Knight lays their arm upon their knee as they watch the Metal Demon work through those thoughts and come to her resolution, in thought and in action. Their head tilts; and for all that they may not speak afterwards, that simple nod that comes is acknowledgement enough. Riesenlied has their aid. For all that it might entail.
They do not stop her, then, as Riesenlied's light ignites the air around them in a flow of empathic exhalations. As she reaches out to the sight beyond sight, to that thing beyond the flesh.
And what she finds is a resolve that has been tested and tried a thousand times over. Awash of so many things, like being caught up in a raging river, controlled but uncompromising in its path. The unstoppable force and the immovable object, all in one.
And yet, there is more... so much more, beyond that surface, so much to grow lost within--
"Riesenlied."
A hand wrapped in cold steel settles upon Riesenlied's shoulder, just as those feelings reach their apex. To jar her from it all, to pull her out of it before she can grow lost.
"There are some things yet unwise to glean," the Trial Knight says, their voice level and sincere in its matter-of-factness, even as those fingers spasm against Riesenlied's gripped shoulder.
"In time. For now, we shall bring you down this path, Riesenlied. As far as it will take you."
<Pose Tracker> Riesenlied has posed.
Riesenlied settles her breath a touch, as she focuses upon that voice. Her hands slowly separate from each other, that light within her emanating further outward as she extends herself further and further. Her own presence is there -- tender, gentle. Within this essence, within this light, she cannot hope to match the resolve that the Trial Knight shows her.
She has been there before, time and time again -- she has been knocked down, bedraggled, belittled, told to wither away like dried leaves upon the bare ground. But -- even in her four hundred years and score, it is enlightening, eye-opening, to see such a resolve. Such uncompromising will, ever moving forward.
It is awe inspiring... and yet, at the same time, it is frightening.
Could she ever hope to attain such purity? What is the measure of such purity, even? To be so certain...
And even deeper in it all, there is that emotion that she's only recently become aware of... warm, unflinching, immense, entrancing her, further and further. She wants to know. For herself, for others... to have emotion on such a level, burgeoning as it ever is--
--such that she nearly misses it, and she is swept, in a curtain of darkness--
--and that voice cuts through, like steel upon a thin sheet of paper.
"... a-ahh--"
She shivers, struggling. Her expression has gone a bit wan, a bit pale. She suddenly-- holds onto the white knight, her hands on the epaulets of their armor as she lowers her head, trembling. It is a gesture out of desperate empathy, than anything else.
"... if only for a moment... that pain," she speaks, her voice little. A speck of light, naught more than a firefly within the depths of the dark, muddy depths. "... one need not suffer alone ..."
A pause.
"It may not be appropriate of me. I apologise," she speaks timorously, letting go to lean back towards neutral posture. Without her knowing, a single tear has flowed down her cheek. "... but as you have aided me, I would seek to aid you in turn."
<Pose Tracker> K.K. has posed.
Hands fall upon the the heavy, cold metal of K.K.'s armor; the Trial Knight does not stop Riesenlied, nor do they cast her aside for the effort. They just watch as Riesenlied is jarred from what she has seen, pale and shaken, her voice a tiny, trembling thing as if it could get swept away within the mere hint of the breeze.
In that moment, she could seem so small. And yet, as those distressed words escape her, the knight does little else but lift a cool gauntlet to catch that beaded tear that rolls down Riesenlied's cheek in a simple sign of respect before they draw away.
"You need not ask forgiveness," they say simply, their tinny voice carrying with something like reassurance if only in how unfaltering it remains even now. "But you need not worry. Suffering is the inability to fly or not under one's own will." And as they speak, the knight will look to rise once more, slow but full of that unswerving dignity.
"There are no bars that have ever held me against my wishes."
That helmeted, eyeless gaze focuses itself once more upon Riesenlied within those moments of quiet. It tilts. "You are strong, Riesenlied, and you shall be stronger yet. You seek to give me aid? I need not succor."
And their hand extends, to offer out to Riesenlied, like an extension of support. Or the offering of a pact.
"Strengthen your resolve, Riesenlied. Do not succumb to the true cowardice. Do not stray from your path. That is the aid I would ask of you."
<Pose Tracker> Riesenlied has posed.
Riesenlied's tear glistens onto the metallic surface of K.K.'s finger, seeming as if it could reflect the emotion in her eye, for a moment, before it flecks away. She shuts her eyes, lashes bristling with further tears. "... to be held in captivity of will ... to not be allowed freedom of being... of agency... that is a true loss of dignity. Of self. Of everything."
She lowers her shoulders, and swallows faintly. "... I do not intend to. No matter how harsh the journey may be, no matter how cold the winds may bite... I shall not suffer the fate of a coward."
The maiden's smile grows ever wider. There is a wicked, twisted pride.
She watches listlessly by herself as that frosted cross pendulums in the distance. The chair is toppled over now, knocked to one side, a leg shattered.
But can you find who you truly are inside?
"... thank you, K.K... for being there, at a time of my distress. I will not forget it."
She holds onto that glove, as she slowly rises to a standing position, wings flickering for a moment as they furl around her again. There's a more tender smile, at this time. A regained strength, from one who gains their strength not only from their resolve, but also from their sense of camaraderie.
Even if their paths are not meant to be... the bird stands once more, ever seeking greater heights, ever daring to float to higher skies beyond the distant and unforeseen horizon.