2017-10-19: Man and God
- Log: Man and God
- Cast: Cecilia Adlehyde, Kahm Yugh
- Where: Bledavik, Noble Quarter
- Date: October 19, 2017
- Summary: In the wake of the incident earlier in the week, Kahm seeks Cecilia out in his true identity to gain her measure.
<Pose Tracker> Cecilia Adlehyde has posed.
Security has been tighter on the princess since the whole Ragnell incident, but she still, broadly, has the run of the palace, within reason. Besides which, Shakhan invited her beyond those doors some days past, and since then the tension in her seems to have eased.
Today, she has wandered out toward one of the wings of the palace now used to store a bunch of crap Shakhan didn't care enough about to display but that was too shiny and/or prestigious to actually part with. Her fingers linger on a door frame into one particular chamber, crowded with dusty tables and artifacts in glass cases that were clear, once.
<Pose Tracker> Kahm Yugh has posed.
Kahm wasn't in Bledavik when the little tete-a-tete with Cecilia and her seraphic friend occurred, but he received a full report about it when he returned. Increased security patrols only made sense-they'd probably be on high alert at least until the Princess gave her appointed speech.
The Prime Minister's general abandonment of this wing made it a good place to go when you were looking not to be bothered by him or one of his cronies carrying his neverending whims, but the Captain may have come here with an distinct purpose to be found by someone. When Cecilia leans into the frame, she'll see him standing there, back facing her, cutting a somewhat different stride in the full uniform of his rank and station.
Kahm was currently admiring (or seeming to admire) a vase that dated back two the early days of the Fatima dynasty, though he could see something of Cecilia's reflection in the glass. "Princess." He greets, his voice providing a degree a familiarity before he turns to face her.
<Pose Tracker> Cecilia Adlehyde has posed.
Cecilia rounds the door and stops short. She had expected to be largely alone here - perhaps find Iris, who has that uncanny ability to find herself underfoot at the darndest times. Instead...
The impulse drawing her here seems to fade out abruptly as the reality of her situation crashes back in once again. She doesn't quite pull her hand away from the door. "...You," she says, in response to his voice. There's some level of surprise in her eyes as he faces her. "I might've known, after Thomas," she murmurs. She can't entirely hide the heat, even if it might be out of place. She dares to step in, feet narrowly cutting around the feet of a small bronze statuette. "I had not expected you here, Mister Rider. I assume that's not your real name?"
<Pose Tracker> Kahm Yugh has posed.
Kahm marks this moment before he speaks. It is, he believes, the first time he has actually shared his name with a surface dweller that wasn't cooperating with them some fashion as Hauch and his Black Ties did. He didn't know if it meant anything, but it seemed worth considering. "Captain Kahm Yugh." He said, withholding the 'at your service' that might normally accompany that phrase. "Yes, I see you've already made the acquaintance of my subordinate."
The Princess's face betrays her, and it's not an unexpected emotion-no one likes to be strung along falsely, after all. "Deception is not a mask I prefer to wear, but I follow my orders. Kislev has it's own agents and spies, after all, and we prefer not to paint targets on our backs. Nothing else I said to you was untrue."
His eyes lean towards the statuette, placid gaze making minute note of the subtle imperfections in the design, "I understand you've already caused a bit of a stir."
<Pose Tracker> Cecilia Adlehyde has posed.
She can't quite look at him for a moment, eyes drifting along the length of the room as she recovers her poise. "Yes. Of course. Captain Yugh, then," she says, slowly. She draws a breath in. "...as you say. Spies were something my father warned me of from time to time."
If she feels remorse for her late father it is either buried or scabbed over; she steps forward and around a covered table, fingertips drifting across the cloth. A few display cases ring the edge of the room, intercut with shelves that are supposed to be lovingly arranged but currently have boxes full of books. "Have I?" she says, and chuckles to show she knows. "While the Prime Minister sets things in motion, I have a surfeit of time, it seems...and this place has not been outfitted for idle royalty in a long time."
Her fingertips drift across one of the glass cases, gathering up dust. ".....a very long time," she murmurs.
<Pose Tracker> Kahm Yugh has posed.
"The Prime Minister does have his interests." Kahm muses, surveying the room as Cecilia mentions the state of the place. Dusty tables, some furnishing still covered by sheets....
"This wing is not one of them." He said, offering no speculation as to why that may be. Perhaps the place was simply too big for Shakhan's imagination.
"Lieutenant Voss struggled greatly trying to explain how the others contended with someone he could not see." Remarked the Captain, showing only the vague edges of a smirk. He didn't want to take too much humor in Loren's situation, not when there was no telling if he himself would have been able to perceive 'Spring Breeze' any better. "I understand the Prime Minister has offered you advice and suggestions on how you might assist your people under his protection. I trust you will listen to him."
The man from Gebler took a few steps, and was suddenly a bit closer astride Cecilia. His once-errant gaze was no fixed up her with a sharp, appraising intensity that expounded upon all the inches of height he had over the young royal.
"After all, why else would you have come here?"
<Pose Tracker> Cecilia Adlehyde has posed.
Cecilia huffs a little noise at Kahm's rather bland assessment. An obvious enough assessment, she takes it.
Sadly they can't continue talking about how big a lamer Shakhan is, because Kahm wants to talk about nature spirits. "Yes," she says, quietly. "I should imagine he would. It is a strange thing, who is and is not attuned to the truths of this world..." She doesn't face him. She doesn't, entirely, know what he thinks he knows about her, and she wants to give him little more. She rubs the dust on her fingertip away with her thumb. Within the case are ancient trinkets - relics of when the Fatima were more Guardianist themselves, old shards of Crest Graphs and jewelry.
She can feel those eyes, though, as he makes his most pointed statements. She draws a slow breath, even amid the dust. "...as you say," she says, quietly. "My people are in a very precarious position. I want to protect them more than anything."
Then she feels it again - intruding into the conversation. She takes a few steps over, even further away, and finds herself in front of another display case, staring at it with a new intensity.
Shaman...
She rubs her hand across the glass as if the dust bothered her little. Beneath there is a small stone plate, perhaps the size of a dinner plate. Kahm will not know the icon upon it, but the form of a Medium is obvious enough.
Cecilia inhales until her lungs can hold no more, for fear she will speak.
<Pose Tracker> Kahm Yugh has posed.
Kahm was a bit too seasoned a soldier to make the slip of gossiping inside business to the 'lambs', though he would hope that even the greenest recruit from topside would know to keep his or her lips shut. It was a curious phenomenon, who could see these 'seraphic beings', and who could not. As best they could tell it had at least something to do with aetheric potential among Solarians, though Lieutenant Voss was certainly no slouch in that department. Surface dwellers were another case altogether....it was something that needed more study, should they ever have the time (and budget) to get around to it.
His eyes survey the talismans and artifacts within, and while the deepest meanings escape him he's done enough study to know the implications. The Guardian faith had had deep roots her before the arrival of the Granas faith. Cecilia's stated resolve earns a tilt of his head, but no more-at some point, the rubber had to hit the road.
His idle question hangs in the air like a damoclean sword. The Princess says nothing, and in doing so says much. Kahm turned his gazed back towards the display case. He was no fool, and while he may not have the right bead on Cecilia's desires, he didn't take her for one either. The medium....then was she looking for...?
There was a soft 'kchink' and a rattle of dust going up in the air as Kahm opened the case.
"Take it." He said. "Call it royal privilege."
<Pose Tracker> Cecilia Adlehyde has posed.
Adlehyde has made no bones of being a Guardianist nation; albeit, in ways that resemble philosophy more than religion. Their spirituality is certainly a mere ghost of the worship the Baskar were known for. It was at once expected that the Princess, taught at Curan Abbey - center of the Adlehyde sect of Guardianism - might hold reverence for such an object; and odd as well, since the Mediums were more of a tool of the Baskar.
She retracts her hand as Kahm opens the case, looking at him. The look is direct now; searching for motive. But in the end she does turn, quietly lifting the object in her hand.
There is no glorious flood of light nor stirring sense of divine presence. A woman merely holds a stone. But she does breathe a little differently, as though the object gave her a certain comfort. "...can you hear it?" she asks, suddenly; looking up from the tablet back to Kahm. "Few can. I'm not sure even the priests I've met can hear it so clearly."
She runs her other hand over the surface, brushing aside neglect to reveal better the icon of Stare Roe, Guardian of Light.
<Pose Tracker> Kahm Yugh has posed.
The Captain keeps his cards close at hand, the look on his face being a rather muted one while Cecilia scrutinizes him, save for a slight sense of expectation that she do something. He didn't deny these mediums held a power, and it was that reason he'd allowed some of his subordinate to keep the ones they had found-they could ill afford their enemy to take up an advantage they had scorned.
Cecilia's question simmered between them for a few moments before Kahm shook his head. "I do not. It looks no more than a stone to me, but I understand it is more than that." He spoke with the cautious words of a man who did not believe something just because he saw it. "The voice of the world, yes?"
That was an interesting thing to call it, he thought.
Letting her keep it might be a risk, but so was letting her in at all. Kahm makes no motion to deprive her of the stone fetish, and instead asks another question, seeing as how she started talking about priests. "Why do you think Filgaia is the way it is, your highness?" He asked, running a finger along an aged, wooden desk and flicking the dust off to show he meant, "All dirt and dust, a bleached world."
The statues and totems of the past suddenly seemed to gain stature on them, as if the eyes of eras gone by drew on them with slow wakefulness to witness the man's next words.
"Is man to blame? Or is God?"
<Pose Tracker> Cecilia Adlehyde has posed.
'The voice of the world.' It's a simplification, but one that's worked for her, and seems to be catching on with the Gebler contingent. She looks up as he says it, a thin smile playing at her lips. "It is the...power," she finally says, choosing a word devoid of judgment, "of the Adlehyde family."
She barely considers it a secret, anymore. Kahm pushes on to another thought, while she regards the tablet with silent gravity. The eyes of the ages stare down upon them...
She shakes her head, quietly, and dares to speak amidst that stage. "When I say 'the voice of the world,'" she begins, seemingly looping back for a moment, "It is not...a single speaker. I hear the anger of the sea and sky...the fear of the earth and wind...the many voices that make up the song of this dying planet's struggle to prolong its days."
She looks up, finally; clutching the tablet to her chest with crossed arms. "Nobody is to blame," she says. "But all must bear the burden. Because men's hearts grow weak and brittle, the Guardians grow weak and reserved. But because the Guardians are distant and cold, the hearts of men grow weak and brittle."
Her fingers tighten around the tablet. "Filgaia is the home of man and God alike. Both must do their part to protect her."
<Pose Tracker> Kahm Yugh has posed.
Power. She was speaking a familiar language now.
The Captain listens politely while the Princess has her piece, appearing to meander backwards before explaining her position. Kahm's brow wrinkled slightly...whether in comprehension or consternation he did not say. All are burdened, god is remote, and men have grown weak. In this much he agreed, and to him it reflected a ruler's thinking. Moreso than the Prime Minister at least, and his endless concern with personal power and wealth.
He wasn't sure how the Commander tolerated even pretending to serve that man.
"Yet those of us burdened with power must do more than others, as befits rank and station." Kahm reflecting, taking Cecilia's words and actions for resolve....to do what, he was not entirely certain.
But he would find out.
"I will do my part to protect Filgaia, your highness." Kahm said, closing the display case and moving toward the doorway, pausing just at the entrance before leaving, "See that you do yours. I'll look forward to your speech."
<Pose Tracker> Cecilia Adlehyde has posed.
Burdened with power...Cecilia nods, not quite noticing herself doing it. What else do you call it, when you are given a position and duty with no input or option? Her fingers curl tighter yet around that stone. "Yes," she says, quietly agreeing. "Some of us find ourselves positioned to do what nobody else can."
She cannot express more of her feelings on that subject. Not to him. Not here or now. But she recalls Fargo, suddenly; his strange, subtle implication of training. She wonders if he even had the means.
Her eyes scan up to Kahm. "Don't worry about that, Captain Yugh," she says.
She releases her grip on the tablet, enough to look down at the Medium's face. It is dull; the power mostly gone. But she feels a spark yet within. "I know what I must do," she murmurs, quieter.