The wind howled as it crested over the peaks on the cliffs just outside the encampment. Taneth had a railgun belted to his hip, the surprisingly light weight weapon a strang comfort to him. His long cloak trailing behind him like a odd pantomime to his Queen's hair. Still he trudged up the freshly trodden path through the thick grass, his pack bouncing oddly on the small of his back.
Y'vitol couldn't have hid if he wanted to, like a walking hill, he sat next to another man watching the sun rise. The daybreak on new horizons, his hair glowed silloetted against the brightening skies a radiant amber. Wings shining the light back out around him like a khaldescope of colors. Anlyth stood using his
Yaltic like a walking staff, crimson cloak billowing out around him in a flurry of sunlight and fire.
Those weapons the Faeries used, odd all things considered. Though, horrifyingly powerful. A design he and the Goddess Syn had come up with together, the thing was for all intents and purposes an at-will lightning generator in the shape of a spear. The Goddess had granted all her children the ability to command heat, fire, gravity and energy the same way she could. So to say that weapon in the hands of The First Son of Syn made him the second most powerful thing next his Mother, would be an enormous understatement.
While, Taneth was the closest to becoming Real in the eyes of The Queen, Y'vitol was the favored hand of Kyln, was also the closest to becoming Real. Anlyth was something else, to be able to create a new sun... Syn would be proud of her son. The Fae had an unfortunate ability to project their thoughts to those around them, an ability the Queen said would aid all in understanding the world around them.
However, this made a somewhat awkward appearance for Taneth as the two other Children turned their attention to him at the thought. The Giant wore only an understanding expression like a mask, the Faeries looked decidedly less pleased at being reminded of his loss. With a grunt he hefted another piece of equipment off his shoulder. The transmitter landed hard, but held nonetheless. Flicking on a the display a hologram of the world they were on manifested. "The orbitals we sent off yesterday to recon the planet managed to map out a fairly large amount of the planet's surface. Where do we start, Fae." Anlyth said gruffly. Pointedly not using Taneth's name.
Taneth did his best to hide the annoyed retort back at him, he knew full well the amount of trauma they had all just endured. Yet, he wanted to lash out at him for a momentary lapse in centuries of control. "What are these distortions in the image?" He asked instead, running his fingers through his hair to keep it out of the way, a nervous habit he had developed since the start of the War.
"They aren't distortions, they are what the orbitals saw, massive flaws in the land. Some are large magma traps that don't seem to be flowing as much as they are venting. Probably to mimic the atmosphere of home. Some are just large areas a twisted landscape, as if The Queen was in a rush to finish what she had started." He spoke quickly, tracing a hand over the surface of the image.
"No." Taneth whispered. "She is a god of logic, reason and balance. Those aren't distortions, she has to be there. She's trying to fix something." The display showing to the world to see, a strange sight. Where the static straight lines of the geogrid should have been, curved and bent. As if Alnya herself was saying this place is broken.
"What makes you say that?" The Fairy crossed his arms, squaring his shoulders to the Fae.
Taneth was busy summoning his
Spark into the palm of his hand. It glowed like a small flame, each a different shape to the individual. For Taneth, it was Feathered Quill, the master Cartographer till the end, and then after. Anlyth growing visibly angry, grabbed the Fae by the scruff of his coat, lifting him in the air with one arm. "Do you mock me? Why parade that
thing out like it means nothing? Why do you have to rub in my face that
your god is still alive?" He seethed through his teeth as his eyes grew red and his wings began to burn.
With an unceremonious motion, he dropped Taneth to the ground before stalking off down the cliffs to the planes below. The Fae looked on after Anlyth, the fire smoldering from his eyes visible long after he had vanished from view. To his credit, he had the good grace to not start an actual fight, Taneth felt like a fool for doing that. He knew full well that everyone else's sparks couldn't be summoned any longer, though they could still feel them. He wondered... he wondered about the Great Mother and her children, they had all been captured, changed. What had become of them, at least for Syn and Kyln, as well as Alnya, some of their children survived to see their Sparks at all.
Rubbing his face with his hand, he told himself that he wouldn't do that again. It was second nature to, well everyone, to witness their Spark if they wanted to know where their god was. But, he had no idea what their Sparks showed them if they were... well, he didn't want to think about it. It was already a horrfying memory to have seen two of the Quartet fall before his eyes. The only one he hadn't personally seen fall was The Great Mother. Then again, everything within a few hundred miles of her death was glassed in a holocaust of divine fury. Her last ditch attempt to destroy at least one of the Shadows and spar her Children the Shadow's touch.
"Give him time. He will heal, he will be ready to speak when he has cut away the burnt branches of his mind." Y'vitol said. Taneth jumped, he had completely forgotten he was there. For being such a massive thing, they blended into the background well.
A long moment passed before Taneth spoke. "I suppose you are right. Are all you Giants this patient?"
With a laugh like falling rock "Kyln taught us much. Yes, I think we are all indeed!"
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