2021-02-04: What We Must Pursue
- Log: What We Must Pursue
- Cast: Seraph Harmaus, K.K.
- Where: Bevelle - Port District
- Date: February 04, 2021
- Summary: Harmaus has a meeting with the Trial Knight and an agreement is made between both parties.
<Pose Tracker> Seraph Harmaus has posed.
It has been noted that Maester Seymour's allies include a number of individuals are a little bit... unusual.
More than likely the one who may as well be referred to as 'the cat might count among the more unusual of them, though.
But such is the outcome of being a little more 'physical' as it were in Spira -- rather than fade into the background to most eyes, the Seraph's self is on display whether he would like it or not. This has its benefits of course. But it also has its detriments.
Particularly on days like this, where he has left the new body to rest and grow and attend to its own needs. It is after all a sunny day. And there are many dark places with which he may require it soon.
Harmaus sits perched atop a railing near the docks, tail twitching now and again as he watches the goings-on. The activity is muted -- the Guard is on Yevon's front porch so to speak -- but it speaks of action to come. Perhaps they'll try to force them out. Or perhaps they're expecting some attack from the Guard soon. The shape of this battle is none of the Seraph's concern.
But he has a small debt to pay off, and so the fact that there may be a battle is.
He hops down from the railing after a few minutes more of this and trots off away from the dock proper. Softly, the bells at his collar jingle; to the unaware he's just some pampered pet out on a stroll.
To the aware, he's something far more confusing.
Today, he has a long-awaited meeting with someone how knows precisely what the feline-shaped Seraph truly is, and perhaps has an inkling of what he desires.
And how it might be accomplished.
<Pose Tracker> K.K. has posed.
Maester Seymour consorts with curious accomplices.
One of them is a literal cat, for the undiscerning eye. And another...
... they are not often seen throughout the throngs of Yevon's faithful. It's not their place, after all, and perhaps not their interest. Sightings of them are rare, but the few times they have been seen incite no end of questions as to just who they are, and how - and why - they came to Yevon's aid.
A knight in white armor so all-consuming even their face cannot be so much as glimpsed at.
A particularly peculiar knight who has promised words with a particularly curious cat.
They are not near the docks this day. They are not anywhere immediately visible, in fact. As Harmaus begins his supposedly pampered prance down the winding ways of the docks, there is little but the passing movements of Yevon's faithful to greet him. And yet, the further Harmaus gets away from the docks, the more passerbys begin to filter away...
"Cat."
... the closer he gets to his anticipated meeting.
The single, simple word rings out with a metallic harmony that obfuscates the voice in question into something indistinct save for the direction it comes in: perched upon one of the looming red walls that surround the long stretch of stone and metal walkways leading straight into the heart of the city. Despite the distance, their voice carries cleanly, calmly. But otherwise, the knight is unmoving, seated in their position with a single knee drawn up, one armored hand draped across the top of it. It'd almost look indolent, if it weren't for how impeccably dignified that straight-backed posture of theirs was. All the same, it is hardly the most imposing thing. Like they were simply taking a comfortable rest.
Like they were simply taking a moment to watch the people.
"You have been seeking me."
<Pose Tracker> Seraph Harmaus has posed.
The last time they had crossed paths at all with the Trial Knight, it had been the death of Harmaus' then-body. A pity, that; he'd faced a number of setbacks immediately due to the loss of the advantages that form had granted him, to say nothing of a considerable issue to come whenever he then returned to Filgaia.
But there had been a way around repeating that process with the body again, as it happened... and his meeting with the Trial Knight had been quite the auspicious one.
Who, after all, has not heard tell of this one?
As well of what they are capable.
Perhaps his time with the Maester will quickly come to an end after all. Seymour had of course gained the Seraph's allyship by promising a meeting with the one who had granted the 'seed'.
But the meeting may happen of its own accord nonetheless.
He had heard the rumor in Bevelle -- a rumor far more pertinent to his interests than the movement of the Guard's forces or the situation within the city. Harmaus has ever dealt in rumors.
Much truth can be peeled free from idle whisper.
And indeed--
Cat.
"Ah," rumbles the said cat, coming to a stop near where the knight tests. "I sees stories is not in vain?" He lashes his tail to and fro, orange eyes half-squinted shut as if he were well-pleased. "Long I waits for this meeting," says Harmaus, at which point the Seraph tilts his head to one side. "But, not too long? Is little yet to me!"
Indeed, this is barely a drop in a bucket for one that could, in time, see centuries more unwind before him.
"Yes. I seeks Trial Knight, and I has found it!"
The Seraph sits, long-haired tail laid out behind him like a banner laid to rest. Every so often the tip twitches. "Knows it what I am? A cat I am not," Harmaus says, in the event his nature was not already plain. "Long has I traveled, to Blue Star and back, and now here again! But I not yet finds what I seeks. Knows it?"
<Pose Tracker> K.K. has posed.
It had been months since their first happenstance meeting, before Yuna's not-so-perilous drop. And as far as it appeared, K.K. had simply fallen off the face of the world. Smattered rumors of sights happened, now and again; they seemed to have attempted to kill the Dragonmaster, of all things, not that long after. But mostly... nothing.
"The lifeless masters of this realm bid me find you. 'Twould seem I am an object of curiosity to you, cat."
Until now, at least.
Their eyes are not seen, but the Trial Knight's attentions have always been a thing more felt by the sheer weight of it. Right now, however -- that weight seems elsewhere, as Harmaus addresses them.
Somewhere off in the distance, watching as the people of this entrenched city walk the docks.
That is, until Harmaus continues on. As the feline Seraph speaks yet further, he draws the knight's attention in the tilt of that armored helm, in the unseen presence of eyes falling scrutinizingly upon him. He talks of the relativity of time, and of his nature, and the matter of his request -- and the knight's head tilts almost owlishly to their left. There is silence, for a time. And then:
"You've a ponderous mode of speech, do you not?"
Says K. 'forgot that language evolves over time' K.
Without the slightest shred of irony.
"A manner of disconnect. Like... hm."
They seem to ruminate on this for a time, as if trying to discern the nature of it. But eventually, the knight shifts just so in their seat, so that they face towards the Seraph fully once more.
"I know the true shape of you, get of Althena," they confirm. One armored palm presses against the red metal beneath them.
"And I have gleaned a sliver of what has tugged you upon the path of your exquisition. But I would hear the words from your own lips, rather than passed on by another's. Speak your will."
<Pose Tracker> Seraph Harmaus has posed.
The weight of the Knight's attentions is, indeed, an imposing thing -- even for a creature like the Seraph. The stories that have been told over the years about the Trial Knight have a particular truth to them it would seem.
How very exciting.
"Yes, yes. I speaks not like others," replies Harmaus, swishing his tail the once as K.K. remarks on his manner of speech. "Others who speaks such gone. Dead. Vanished." He closes his eyes, bowing his head, as if in rememberance. "Long, long gone."
The village had been bright and merry, once. Now, not even a trace of it remains. It has been devoured by time itself.
"...But it matters me not, now."
Humans are fleeting, he has told Boudicca. What they make does not last.
Get of Althena.
Harmaus rises to his four feet, back arched for the moment as if he were about to go on the defensive. "...It is right, I am... Althena's child," the Seraph says, visibly still on high alert. "As we are all," he continues, apparently including all Seraphim in that grouping. "But," he says next, voice clipped, "It speaks me not that way! It reminds me not that bond!" he goes on, tail twitching once like an angry flag.
And as quickly as that fury blows in, it settles out to sea once more.
So to speak.
Harmaus settles down on his haunches, gazing up at the Trial Knight.
"It learns me from others? Ah..." muses the Seraph, and though cat faces can't quite communication puzzlement well, he tilts his head to one side and stares up at K.K. fixedly and maybe that sort of gets the gist across.
"It wonders me," Harmaus remarks, "who speaks it?"
But the Trial Knight would hear his tale from his own mouth even so, and on this, Harmaus appears more than willing to speak:
"I seek truth. I has reason believe the Goddess," and disgust crawls into his tone; he curls whatever passes as a cat's lips as if pained, "lies, and lies muchly! Lies about the world. Lies about us. Malevolence is key to understanding. Malevolence... therein hides answers. The truth! But much yet mysterious about Malevolence."
Harmaus turns his head, as it to gesture by the eyes the city about them. "Why no Malevolence here? Why so little, little yet upon the Blue Star? I seeks understanding Malevolence...
"For understanding, I needs, ah..."
Harmaus pauses, as if trying to search out the right word. "...egg. Seed. That which hatches, grows. Becomes. I has heard Trial Knight provides."
<Pose Tracker> K.K. has posed.
...But it matters me not, now.
Silence is what greets Harmaus at this assertion. The knight's keen attentions remain within that stillness, observing the Seraph of Light as his feline head dips.
"... Mm."
But it is the Seraph's next reaction to their words that draws the knight sharply into focus upon him. It is defensive in the way of all cats, the way Harmaus stands upon those toes and all but hair raises at the suggestion of his nature. They consider, for a long moment, watching the snap of that tail.
Remind him not of that bond, Harmaus insists.
"Our natures are inescapable," is the Trial Knight's answer.
"Be wary of what you court in the trying."
And it is here that they turn, until they are slipping from their perch.
It's a surprisingly quiet thing, K.K.'s fall and subsequent landing; with all that armor, one would expect a loud clamor of impact when booted heels hit ground in a fluid crouch before the heretic Seraph. But instead... it's a strangely harmonious sound, like the ring of a bell. A soft chime that rings through the air and is swiftly forgotten.
"It matters ill who spoke it," says K.K. as they rise from their crouch, gauntleted hands falling to their sides. "Save that there are yet those who would consort with monsters." It might just be the closest equivalent of 'that's confidential information' one may get from the so-called Adversary. But it isn't here that their interest lies -- perhaps not even here that Harmaus' interest lies. Which is why they speak little else, until the Seraph's answer comes. Disgust creeps past the maw of one of Althena's stewards as he speaks of her once more. Their head turns towards the cityscape, faceless helm reflecting the reds and blues of the port and sea.
"'Twould seem there are many who doubt the intentions of the Goddess," they murmur, almost to themself. It is only then that they look back toward Harmaus.
"... You would know the shape of your poison." They turn as they surmise, arms lifting to cross over the gleaming white and gold of their breastplate.
"And you would know it in practice. Know you the effect of Malevolence upon your kin?"
Does Harmaus know what he courts?
<Pose Tracker> Seraph Harmaus has posed.
Harmaus remains like that for a long, lingering moment. Orange eyes turn upon the Trial Knight. "Our natures, ah...?"
Perhaps something that had been somewhat obscured to the Seraph has now been made clear. Regardless, for now he remarks upon it no further and settles down--
Or would have, if in this moment the Knight had not slipped from their own perch, landing with a sound so soft that it would put even a cat to shame. Softly, as if in sympathy, the bells at Harmaus' collar jingle, as if at the slightest of movements from the Seraph.
As the Knight so rises, he finally permits himself to settle back upon his haunches, gazing up at the figure before him. Regardless of his size relative to K.K., Harmaus betrays but the vague agitation of any feline with something on their mind -- now and again his tail lashes from side to side -- and otherwise appears almost at ease. But size is no omen of power... and as a Seraph, Harmaus is nearing his seven hundred and seventy-seventh year.
"So it speaks of them to me not," the cat-shaped Seraph remarks, stating the obvious. "Matters me not. I has my methods, and will worry the truth out," he finishes, punctuating it the once with a twitch -- nearly a shake -- of the head. If it's of any deep concern, it seems, it's something he'll attempt to ferret out, but--
It isn't his main concern. It might not even be near the top of the list for the heretic Seraph.
Indeed, what concerns Harmaus the most is...
"Yes," whispers the Seraph. "Her," and he still affords her that respect it would seem, "intents are dark, yet."
And perhaps in the swirling corruption of Malevolence there hides a secret.
"Long I does as any Seraph, long ago," rumbles the Seraph. "As we are taught! Yes. I knows of Malevolence, knows it well. I wanders for a time, long ago. I hunts Hellions. Until I learns anew."
Those eyes of his slit. "It pains us. A curse Althena places upon it? Was it so always? ...It pains and twists us. But hides it something more. ...I would knows it, Trial Knight. I desires not losing myself to it. Only power to break Her curse. And for that... I must understands it."
<Pose Tracker> K.K. has posed.
I has my methods, and will worry the truth out, says Harmaus.
K.K.'s stand shifts imperceptibly, the slightest of weight placed to their leg, following the tilt of their head at that assertion. As if trying to see Harmaus from a new light.
That disconnected method of speech. The way he seems to relentlessly pursue his curiosities.
"..."
One clawed finger twitches, tapping lightly against their metal-wrapped bicep.
What conclusions the knight draws of the cat, they leave to themself.
"So you know, and yet you pursue all the same. You must pursue, all the same," muses K.K. "Malevolence is indeed a blight native to our star. 'Tis not to say it cannot be spread. Like a weed it can travel the vastest distances to bloom and strangle out all else in a suitable garden. ... Yet not all gardens suit its presence."
Once more, K.K. looks back towards the docks.
"So what, then, is the difference within the soil?"
They dismiss this question as soon as they pose it, with the wave of one gauntleted hand.
"You shall not be deterred from your path, 'tis clear as the parting clouds of dawn. You think yourself ready. To what ends are you willing to go, to see it done? What lengths are you willing to travel?"
The shift of their heel turns them towards Harmaus anew. They take a step forward. Another. More, crossing that distance between them...
... until they can drop to a kneel.
To look at those slit, feline eyes at Harmaus' level. To speak to him, face to face.
"And what shall you then do, once you have gleaned this truth you so desperately seek?"
<Pose Tracker> Seraph Harmaus has posed.
"Yes. I knows it. Is dangerous thing. Is fascinating thing. Two things is true. But many secrets keeps it yet," says Harmaus, ducking his head the once as if to mimic the human gesture. Some things the body imparts -- and other things are learned.
"It grows not naturally on the Blue Star," the Seraph agrees. "Can be made to grow. But method? I knows it not. Here, too: Fiends, yes, many interesting things, but Malevolence I has not yet found. Only over this sea grows it readily." Those eyes of his narrow.
"The soil... the soil. Yes, it wonders me. Wonders me much."
But it is not a question that will be easily answered. Not now. Not by the Trial Knight.
"What does I, to gain what I seeks...?"
That tail of his lashes again, flitting this way and that with some barely-restrained agitation. Or, might be be desire?
"Anything."
The answer is a short, simple one.
"I needs know it. The truth. It burns. Gnaws at me, claws at me," whispers Harmaus. "Already, I gives much to learn what I has. But still, I is far from what I seeks. All I am. All I has. I gives it gladly, if it learns me the answer I seeks."
The Knight turns sharply towards him, crouches low to meet him face to face. Though the Seraph's back tenses, as if he were about to pop up onto all fours, he does not rise, holding his ground as if he were more lion than housecat.
In heart, perhaps, if not in form.
"Free the world," the Seraph says softly, slit pupils dilating as he gazes at K.K., eye-to-eye.
"Is all I desire."
<Pose Tracker> K.K. has posed.
"Because its source dwells not on the Blue Star. But man's sins yet do."
In those moments before K.K. lowers onto their knee, those clawed hands of theirs clasp behind their back. They look towards the center of Bevelle, so far off in the distance of the walkway, faceless helm reflecting little more than the red splendor of the city as they speak.
"With volume enough, Malevolence shall infest any source. It matters not if it is man or beast or earth, whether living or not, or whether that life has passed on. Even the lingering sentiments of the dead are not immune to its touch. Within its realm, laws of man and time matter little. In enough volume, Malevolence will root, and perpetuate itself, as it has on Ignas." Because of them. Their helm tilts, Harmaus' way. "Volume enough to twist most any who would seek to use it. But it shall root. There has been but one exception to this fact."
The land they stand upon right now.
But the reasons fall by the wayside, in the face of what the Trial Knight seeks: Harmaus' reasons. He speaks. To the limitless limits he will go to. To the obsession that gnaws at him. And, lowered on their knee, they consider those words with that stoic stillness.
"'Free the world,'" they echo.
"From ignorance? From blindness?
"Or from she who beget you and your brood?"
The knight rises, a few precious handful of moments after they have asked those questions. And regardless of answer, they have one more:
"I've one last question for you, Seraph," intones the knight.
"The mortal who was with you at the ceremony."
The one Harmaus rode. The one who died.
"What was the nature of your connection to him? I felt no Pact between you, yet you inhabited him as one bound might."
<Pose Tracker> Seraph Harmaus has posed.
"Ah..."
A fascinating response.
An angle, too, that Harmaus had not considered: his tail lashes to and thro, as if he were inwardly consumed with the digestion of what K.K. speaks.
"The source here dwells," he wonders aloud, tilting his head to one side. "Ah. I sees... so matter is only of 'volume'. Brings much Malevolence, and Blue Star provides fertile soil! ...Ah, but where gets I such seed..."
Even with the human body, moving in a domain had proven difficult: it had not been the perfect shield he had hoped for. The body had been pained by the concentration of it, and that had weakened the entire enterprise.
But the form he has gained is not so easily harmed.
And perhaps if he were to follow in Amaranth's footsteps...
There has only been one exception though, and it is in this land.
The same land that forces him to embody thus.
"Yes... it wonders me. Sin, too. It knows what it may consume?"
There they sit, face to face then, the Knight on one knee before the feline Seraph. The Seraph, unblinking, his face nearly as inscrutable as the Knight's own.
The Trial Knight asks Harmaus from what he would free the world -- from ignorance? Or the presence of the Goddess?
Cats can't smile -- they lack the facial architecture to manage such a feat. Even a Seraph that wears the form of a cat can't smile as a human might. And yet, that look in Harmaus' eyes might... almost be called a smile.
"Yes," he answers, apparently well-pleased with his own response to the questions.
But there is one question more.
"It asks," says Harmaus, tilting his face upwards at K.K., who stands once again.
"Ah?" muses the catlike Seraph, tilting his head as he regards the knight. "Wonders it how I manages?"
Those orange eyes of his light up again, as if somehow pleased by the asking. "Is simple yet difficult! But I crushes the human inside. Conquers will until no resistance. Then, the body mine." His tail swishes once, twice. "Takes much time. Takes right vessel. Another way I has now. I needs not conduct such again."
<Pose Tracker> K.K. has posed.
Where would Harmaus find such a seed?
It is a question that finds no answer. Not from the Trial Knight, at least, not immediately. It would seem their interests come first -- and those interests, at this moment, is the Seraph himself. The only thing that draws an immediate response is that musing on the nature of Sin. That faceless helm tilts upward, and something almost like a soft hum can be heard, warped around the metallic muffle of that horned covering.
"'Tis Clysmian. By its nature, it is anomalous," muses the knight. "But 'tis not impossible to understand. Nor to replicate. 'Twas Malevolence, that nurtured the egg of desperation. Mayhap that explains some of this land's spiritual stagnation."
And they should know, after all.
But in time, the Trial Knight gets their answers. They take that all-consuming, one syllable answer at its face, with a stoic nod and a straightforward, "Very well," to accept it with in turn.
It is that next answer, though...
'But I crushes the human inside.'
The knight pauses. They look down upon the feline Seraph, looking so pleased, eyes a-gleam. Their head cants to the right.
'Another way I has now.'
"..."
Their fingers twitch in a sudden, short spasm.
"... I see."
And it is here they turn upon one heel with a sudden and sure motion, as if an unseen decision had been made. Their back facing Harmaus, they begin to walk away just like that. Except...
"So be it. You shall have my aid, cat."
Where does one find such a seed?
They provide no further words. No explanation of what their aid may entail, or how, or when. But the implication is clear; after all, it is why Harmaus sought them.
They will give that seed the Seraph so craves.
<Pose Tracker> Seraph Harmaus has posed.
"Clysmian," speaks the Seraph, trying out the word as if tasting it. "Yes... is like the other. I sees it now. Maybe its presence prevents Malevolence's maturation? Ah, but destroying Sin... is a hard thing, yes?"
The twin meaning in the Seraph's words is clear.
Twice over, in fact.
Whiskers flare briefly as the Knight stands before him, his interest for a moment transparent as he gazes up at them. Of course his gaze regards the Knight's head alone. Of course his gaze never minds the slight movement of the hands.
Rising up onto all fours as the Knight begins to walk, as if striding away from this, the Seraph stands a statue for a time. Curiousness might be the watchword -- his tail tip twitches to and fro, as if awaiting to see what the Knight might do next.
Harmaus says nothing.
And then, just when it seems that his attempt to parley with them will yield no fruit after all--
"It pleases me," says the Seraph, settling down again upon his haunches and beginning to wash his face well with a paw.
"We speaks more of this soon... Trial Knight."