White Winter Hymnal

[Philomel]

Her brow furrowed a little, and she felt the warm body of Mao press into her neck. Fluttering upa hand she cupped the small rabbit, putting her head to the side. "So ..." she frowned. "Never mind. Let us go inside. More privacy is something I very much appreciate."

Out here, in the open, surrounded by these working men and armed guards, she felt as if there was any chance at any moment of being overheard by someone distrustful. After all, this was not her own fortress. This was not her own people, her Lilies. Instead ... well, fine it was Shinsou's Brotherhood stronghold. But it was exposed, unlike the fortress. It was a town, in the middle of the countryside, where practically, it seemed, anyone could walk in and pretend to be one of them.

Shinsou nodded, and turned, gesturing with his upraised palm towards a large building that stood against the square. With agitation waiting in the back of her throat, Philomel looked around for the boldest and most trustworthy man she could find. Looking right into his eyes she pointed to her tera'k.

"Feed and water him please," she said, and then turned away, heading right for the building.

They entered a short while later into a wooden-styled office, with a heavy desk and chairs. Her hooves clattered with the hollowness of the place, Veridian's own style barely heard. Heading straight for a seat Philomel dropped into it, her body tired from so much travel. Her eyes glanced briefly around the light coloured furnishings, the simple window with white sunlight streaming through, and various yellowing pages on the desk, before moving back around to her dear friend. Slowly, the man she had sincerely hoped that was not dead, and had not been, he of the gorgeous brown locks and startling eyes, sat down, and she found a sigh escaping from her lips.

"Firstly, I am glad to see you alive, Shinsou. Secondly, can all the questions about my daughter wait until I have found my hooves once more. Thirdly, you really did not need to send an escort to me. Do you not think I can defend myself? Do you not think my women would have provided enough of an honour guard."

The head of the Brotherhood looked over to the head of the Gilded Lily, two world players in the one room. For a while he sat in quiet, before he raised his hands and rested them on the desk.

"The escort was more about bringing you here directly than safely," he replied, respecting her wishes of avoiding conversation over Celandine. "I didn't want anyone else to talk to you about this."

"I am presuming 'this' has to do with my own plans," she said, sitting slightly forwards. Picking up Mao from her shoulder, where the rabbit was starting to strangle himself in her hair, she pulled him to sit on her lap. "Or something similar, as you seem to be avoiding explaining that."

"This," Shinsou said, sliding a piece of paper towards her. "I have been trying to find where Lye Ulroke resides."

She leaned forwards, brow furrowing as she read the few words on the paper.

"Seventh Sanctum, GWE."

Philomel blinked, and then she smiled. "Ah, the Seventh Sanctum," she said, and she nodded, the breath expelling from her lungs like a fresh morning breeze.

She paused, eyes looking over the last three initials. "GWE ... Great ... Great White Expanse? Well you do have to cover that hell for a while until you get there. Yes," she nodded, "I agree, that is where Ulroke will likely be."

Looking up she saw his dumfounded expression and she looked curious, "Why? Have you been there also?"

[Philomel]

"Enough talking."

As the question hung in the air, Philomel moved, her eyes flickering over to the female. Tall and beautiful Lillith Kasumi seemed the spirit of grace. And by the way she elgeantly moved, she seemed someone that Philomel certainly would get on with. Barely had the woman spoke - just a brief hello in that silky, darling voice of hers, before Shinsou had started his rant. The faun guessed, or perhaps rather hoped, that Lillith had some persuasion towards the assassin-whore-fighter-piratical hybrid that Philomel had been over her life - at least been in part at points. With a wry smile to her, and a slight roll of the eyes to Shinsou's words to communicate what she felt, Philomel moved straight past the Telgradian and in through the doors. Behind her Veridian scrabbled, claws clinking on the floorboards, and somewhere from beneath her hair the faun felt the form of Mao the rabbit peek out.

She came to the sight of a large rectangular table, strewn with maps, papers, candles and goblets. Looping up one hand behind her neck she brought down Mao, setting him right on top of the papers. Immediately the rabbit began to sniff around the place, nose twitching, paws gently moving but not straying far from his faun. Over to them Veridian traipsed, leaping up himself onto the paper and nosing them. His eyes settled on a giant map of Althanas and he chuckled a keep growl from his throat before finding the wine for her.

Here, he told her, patting at it with a paw.

Twisting her head back around to the still Shinsou, Philomel let out a beaming smile as she reached for the wine - and stopped Veridian from knocking it all over the table and its strategic documents.

"Now that that is over, Shinsou, shall we actually get to the task in hand? Rather than being hypothetical and all philosophical? I think my dear new friend ... Lillith, was it? I think she and I know exactly where we are going and do not need any persuasion in the slightest. On a personal degree I have seen what Lye Ulroke is capable of, what he has done." She paused, reaching for a goblet to pour the wine into. "Besides, it was I who wrote to you, asking for your help. You did not ask me here, I came because it was my intention to anyway. Otherwise we would have met at the walls of the Seventh Sanctum and then ... well."

She swigged back a mouthful of the red liquid, eyes dancing. "Ah yes, and Delath can carry three of us, I think, though not far. The way into the Sanctum is not ... easy. It is full of monsters of many dark types, and the mountain pass is treacherous. It is possible to die on the route, and the area is filled with his agents. We must go just us three and swift. End Ulroke where his heart of power lies. In the throne room, before the chair made of bones. But to do that we have to be quiet and strong-willed."

Nodding once to herself, she surmised to herself that what she had said was good. Pulling the rabbit back towards her she drank, and waited for the others to consider her suggestions.

[Philomel]

Light and colour and brilliance. Those were the words that made up the glory of Akashima's capital city, lost in the torrent of a festival.

As the portal faded behind them - a glorious swirl of azure on white on prussian - Philomel felt the breath expell from her lungs as she looked around. Only one time in her life had she been here, and that was in the months leading up to the birth of her daughter. Memories came back to her of her and Veridian - for it had only been them two in that time - wandering through the streets with a badly hidden swollen belly, trying to do all the tourism within two weeks. Tourism like the maginificent Great Crystal Spire that towered above them like a giant, releasing luminosity and showering all in a blissful radiance. It reflected the myriad of colours as flags swayed and behind bright stalls merchants shouted out their wares. Noise of a wild variety surrounded the group of allies and misfits, with notes of gasps and awed giggles sounding as people realised two humans, a faun, a fox, a rabbit and a frigging dragon had just stepped out of the air amidst a blue portal.

Philomel grinned up at the looming head of Delath above her and stretched her hand to gently scratch his throat. The skin there was not scaled, but rather leathery and bumpy, like a tortoise's shell or the brow ridges of a monster, with the individual segments neatly grown into one another, with the strength of many rocks. Delath let out a rumbling, satisfied grumble, his throat vibrating beneath her touch. Ths many streets of Akashiman's turned in wonder to see what exactly was making the sound.

“That palace, I remember reading about it,” Shinous suddenly said. Looking over to him, but not dropping her hand from pleasing her dragon, “It was fashioned to become a formidable fortress in times of war, but despite that it was believed to contain delicate artworks and stone masterpieces throughout its grand halls and towering walls. Lady Akashima herself was said to have a personal interest in it.”

Philomel glanced over to where he motioned. A long series of halls and gabled roofs appeared above the general residential and business buildings that lay before them. Walls were placed before it, but even they were not tall enough to cover the sheer glory that was the palace. With ornate wooden carvings and strong, stone defences it was a place of elegance and defence - the ultimate royal household.

As the true dark of night began to fall around them and the various shocked members of the public lost interest in Delath, realisation began to come to Philomel. That in fact they had stepped through from a dusky day to blackness, and actually the light she had assumed was still part of the sun was actually from the Crystal Spire itself. It gathered the light of thousands of lanterns around them, those that were set out for the festival. They hung on the ends of stalls, the arms of posts and the corners of buildings, giving a day-like brightness to the city. And from this the spire gathered up the light, then spread it out rapidly, giving all the various painted ladies, robed men and merchants a good degree of brightness to see by. Slowly Philomel lowered her hands, and looked over to Shinsou, only to see him glancing in her direction. Smiling back she nodded, conferring that she too could be lost here.

And then the peace was broken, the perfection ended. Lillith sidled up beside Shinsou, coming into full view. Realisation came into Philomel, and seemingly into Shinsou also as he turned to the geisha swiftly and spoke once more.

“So, here we are. Over to you, Lillith Kazumi.”

[Philomel]

They came with all the triumph of a court at festival, softly pacing through the snow on treasure-laden aurochs.

(To be fin)