“My lord!”
Stare was aware of the movement of fabric. Before her and the god clutching her still with harsh pressure, the same high priest who had escorted Vitruvion away was prostrating on the ground. Face firmly pressed into the knotted rug that served as a carpet, hands flat and spread before him. A moment's pause, and then Stare became aware of the god at her side twist her around to face the other figure inside this sandstone, but otherwise plain room. A chair, a brazier and a long, fully occupied bookshelf served as the only furniture.
“Greetings, friend,” the elf god said in a remarkably cheery voice, as Vitruvion stared back in shock, but also irritation. “You were looking for me apparently, but I thought I would go looking for your pet here first.”
Briefly he released Stare's shoulder, and she felt fast, but short-lived relief. Quickly following his hand was then at the small of her back and shoved her in a brutal manner towards Vitruvion. The strength behind it was uncompromising and unforgiving. She tottered forwards, past the chair, her right foot catching at her left lower leg, causing her to unceremoniously need to stumble. As Vitruvion struck out a hand, she felt a tension in the air around her. Still a metre or so from him he could not reach her, but instead enabled her to right herself with a gentle nudge of force.
When she gained her balance again, Vitruvion began to talk.
“Galatirion,” he said in a low, not amused tone.
Stare's heart took a mighty leap, and she twisted around to stare at the being in the guise of an elf. This was he, Galatirion, the god of immortality, also known as the Sky Father. He had given the high elves the gift of long life, often spanning thousands of years. He was also the one responsible in part for Stare’s bloody immortality - a thing she regarded more as a curse.
“An’s balls …” she whispered.
“Indeed, my dear,” Vitruvion agreed, then he addressed the other god in the room. “I'd prefer you not to call her my 'pet’ Galatirion. Stare is more than that. It is actually about her that I came to-”
Abruptly, the Raiaeran interrupted him, and moved, stepping right over the high priest who was still desperately bowing on the ground. It was like he owned the elf, but in a different way that Vitruvion owned her. Whereas Vitruvion treated her with some degree of respect, Galatirion did not even look at the man. He even stepped lightly on his hand, causing the priest to suck in an audible breath.
“Again, Vitruvion? Her, again? You still owe me a favour for her immortality.”
“This is not a request in the same, Galatirion. More - I need information.”
“Ah but information can sometimes be thought of being more valuable than life itself,” Galatirion replied, sticking a finger into the air. He threw a sickly sweet smile at Stare that sent a shiver down her spine. She found herself retreating back a step, and just as that pace ended she felt a calm hand meet the small of her back.
Glancing up she found Vitruvion had stepped to meet her midway. As he did so his other hand swept down, and ostentatiously slipped, without warning, behind her cloak. Before she could open her beak a single iota he had seized hold of her wing and extended it out to its fullest measure. Quietly she clacked her tongue with distaste against the side of her beak and prepared to pull it back- before he hissed in her mind.
Behave, Stare. Now more than anytime, behave. That is a stern order.
His words stilled her entirely. Heart racing she dropped her eyes to glue them angrily at the kowtowing high priest. I don't like him.
Neither do I, Vitruvion responded in like, dissatisfied tone. But he is a god, and so am I. He curled his fingers tightened around her wing. Respect that. Now more than ever, obey me.
When she made no more movement and spoke no more words, Vitruvion seemed satisfied. Turning back to Galatirion, he continued. “These grew last night, within a single hour or so. I would also appreciate it if you did not look into her mind or attempt to pry into hers.”
“Ah, so you cannot shield her from me. Interesting,” Galatirion mused, as his eyes danced over the length of her wing.
“But I can detect that you are in there, bastard. Get the fuck out.”
The other god narrowed his eyes, focusing them on Vitruvion. A wordless communication passed between them, and all the while Stare continued to glare at the high priest. Upon her wing the fingers began to tighten, and she felt Vitruvion's secondary hand draw up to lock around her shoulder. She also realised that she felt no presence at all upon her consciousness, very similar to Vitruvion was able to do. What he was doing apparently now.
“Thank you,” came a final growl. “Now, I have been informed this,” he roughly and forthwith yanked on her wing. Stare hissed quietly, but kept it at a minimum noise level. “I have been told that a matter similar to it is a near impossible happening, and I demand to know if you, or any others of your kin had anything to do with it?”
“You demand, do you?” Galatirion scoffed, his arms folding against his chest and his mouth a torsion of a grin.
“If there is one creature on this blasted planet that none of you have any right to it is her,” Vitruvion snapped, shaking Stare to make his point. “This is a very clear motion, that all of you agreed upon. And if any of you have done anything to her-”
“No, none of us have, Vitruvion. Not as far as I know,” the Raiaeran god interrupted, scowling as his fun was ruined. “We agree to your right over her, and her race. But not one of us did this. Alright?!”
Time seemed to freeze for a moment - as if it conjoined with the position of the high priest. Silence, space and even the smallest movement was paused with suspense present in the atmosphere. Even a fly that had somehow plagued its way into this hallowed hall, was stiffened and solidified, its wings halfway through a beat. Soft colour sparkled with iridescent colours, a thousand and more, and Stare could see the very veins in the material ...
Then, time began again. One moment it was glaciated and suspended, the next it was spiralling into motion once more. Her body that was held too harshly was eased. The clutching long fingers slowly curled off the end her wing as they collapsed it back into its folded form. As they did she let out a short sigh, straightening and finding this time the weight of her wings easier to endure.
“Fine. Thank you,” Vitruvion spoke in a formal tone. “I might suggest you erase your high priest’s memory of this.”
“He has an enchantment already on him to automatically forget all these types of events,” Galatirion shrugged. “And I might suggest you be gone from here. You have your answer, which I'm sure poses more questions. We did nothing of this, but I do see deitic power having the ability to go such a thing. Who knows - maybe your connection to her accelerated some natural future evolution.”
Evolution. The same word that had been in the title of the book Vitruvion had had in his hand when she had first woken up this hell of a day. It was a word she had learnt from his science lessons, that spoke of the very gradual adaptations which occurred within a race over thousands of years. Was that really the answer to what was going on with her? That her wings were simply the next rung in the evolutionary ladder. She was already rapidly advancing with thousands of years of unused kenku magic, so could this just be an unknown force of Vitruvion's godhood?
“It wasn't me,” Vitruvion snarled, but he nodded to Galatirion once before dragging Stare around to his front. With his strength and her sensibility of knowing what a situation with two gods in the room entailed, she complied, preferring with all of her soul to be with the god who had some care for her, rather than Galatirion who seemed more monster than beauty. Vitruvion cemented his two hands over her shoulders.
“But we will go,” he hissed. “Though before we go there was another query I had. I want to know if you are associated with any demons in Tular.”
As he spoke outwardly Stare felt his heavy presence on her mind. Can you see his aura? he asked. His chakras too?
Stare paused, her body currently a wreck from all the fear and twisted emotions she felt, but she did what he requested. Focusing her eyes on Galatirion, as the god began to laugh, she let the strength of her alternative sights flow into her.
What she saw, however, she would never had imagined. Like the blood that falls from a warrior's fresh wound Galatirion’s aura was a rich bright red. For Stare, that showed her the his intentions were good, but his methods in achieving what he desired had a repetitive chaotic theme. His personality was volatile, liable to change, and Stare reckoned that explained part of the reason why the Raiaeran gods had taken something of an afterpart in their relationship with their people.
The colour of his chakras were less surprising - pulsating white, and thus divine, thrummed through his systems. What was intriguing, however, was the fluid flow of one chakra into the next, suggesting a harmony of emotions, and a being who knew how to control himself. For a while she gazed at it, all the time as being dimly aware of the conversation continuing between the two gods. She knew that Vitruvion did not suspect any connection between his still unnamed brother and the other gods, thus the question was likely a simple diversionary tactic. One to give her time to see -
A flicker in his heart chakra, where love and grief were present. It was not an alteration of flow however, not what she had seen many times before. Instead - instead she was confused to see it swirl and then, Ansaldo's balls forbid, open up. Open up to reveal a shimmering pool, like a mirror. As she focused harder she began to hear a sound of soft cheering on the air, and within the mirror a golden, shining crown, marking Galatirion out as a king among men, a king among gods … this was a god's soul she was seeing!
A shot of pain at her shoulder caused her to suddenly come catastrophically crashing back into the physical reality that all other immortals (and of course, mortals) shared. Vitruvion was sharply curving his nails into her, and she let out the lightest gasp. She was aware of Vitruvion hissing some angered words. Then - as she peered up at him, and saw the narrowed, dark eyes the air began to shift again. The world shimmered, and a glow of blue energy was beginning to run from Vitruvion's form. Knowing was was to happen next, Stare sucked in her breath.
And the room began to spin. Without another word Vitruvion slid a hand down her body to wrap around her waist. From there he hoisted her right off her feet and into the air. Then he took a solid step forwards, stepping from the temple in Eluriand …
