flameguard | mygod | pc catchall

[ oh... in sympathy, he reaches up and mirrors the motion on his own chest - familiar, processing the memory itself. ]

... You... must have really loved her.

[ an interesting way to put it. he hesitates before he answers, mouth twisting to one side. ]

I did. I loved - love - her creation more than anything in this world. The Weave, magic. But ... I suppose what is love to me, and what is love to a goddess, can be two different things.

[ ... ]

I... understand how that feels. [ more than you'd think, maybe. he's a young man, still, but... by the gods, does he understand, how it feels to love someone who is so far out of the context of mortality, to love someone and something and have to part them, even when it feels like it's irreconcilable, one way or another.

anyway yay it's time for a memshare ]

An interesting test, that a god would put before you.

[ honestly, it feels kind of cruel. test or no. ]

[ rondo voice i can't kill myself in the cyoa because i can't give in to violence ;_;

anyway. hoo. he reaches up and rubs at his heart a little as this one finishes. ]

... I don't think... the gods are uncaring, necessarily. But I wouldn't say that they're kind.

No. They simply have cares that are greater than a single mortal life. Pieces on a great Lanceboard they are playing that can sacrifice players upon it in games larger than we can see.

[ this sounds like it comes from a slightly bitter, personal place however. ]

This Sacred Flame, what is it exactly? Something akin to a divine's blessing?

[ it's a little heretical, but, having now dealt with the gods rather personally, it makes sense, too. aelfric's flame has been a gift to orsterra, but the gods' essences have caused such massive destruction throughout the continent, that he'd not be much of a flameguard if he didn't try to take the presence as something tempered.

so he just makes a quiet noise to the first part, bitter or otherwise, and then nods. ]

...Yes, that's a good way to put it. [ a divine blessing indeed. he thinks for a moment, back to his scriptures. ] The Flame is a literal Flame. It was once used to seal away the dark god Galdera, who sought to betray the other gods of Orsterra and destroy the world - once Galdera was sealed away behind the Gates of Finis, Aelfric brought the Flame to Orsterra to remain as a protective force for all of those who live there.

The Flame can only be wielded by human hands in two ways - the first is through a rite called the Kindling, performed by a chosen cleric once every twenty years. And the second is by the Flameguard, who acts as the protector of the continent. It can be gifted by birth, or... through a trial, like the one I undertook. But there can only be one Flameguard.

Ah, yes. Of course. Chosen. I imagine gods across many worlds operate similarly. To wield their influence amongst mortals, one must have an emissary.

[ he thinks of rosebushes on fire. of the silver fire. of the veils across the weave, and then the veils on her body.

Chosen One, she had whispered. ]

It is no small thing to be a god's Chosen. Whatever life one has once claimed to lead, can now only follow.

[ he's quiet for a moment, reflecting on the story of gale's memory, the fairy-tale like presentation. the orb, the dark thing in his chest.

... ]

... And to lose it is - a feeling that's indescribable. [ and unfortunately, one he's familiar with, too. ]

Mm.

[ it's the silence that kills you slowly, that takes everything important and turns it gray. to be isolated from everyone around you for years and then in your hour of greatest need? silence. a punishment fit for his mistakes. ]

So, this flame did not remain with you.

... Sir Sazantos stole it from me.

[ choked his gift, his treasured blessing, his practical soul, right out of his body. ]

It's the last thing that I remember, before I woke up here. [ and it's cold. an icy, frigid, cold feeling that's never gone away. forget the cold from whatever monster spirits lurk within them, it's the feeling of nothingness that rondo aches from, day after day after day. ]

And your god. This Aelfric? He let this happen?

[ a tiny nod. ]

I... don't know what has happened in the time since. Perhaps he is the reason that I find myself here, instead of dead.

... It is often to their favor that gods allow us to prescribe great workings to them by reputation alone. I find myself rather questioning how I ended up here myself. If it is through the hand of Mystra, I would find myself asking what she considers salvation and what is considered yet another punishment.

[ he grimaces a little as he finds himself digging into the bitterness again, finding a little relief in sniping at the divine. it doesn't seem as if rondo has the same sort of relationship to the gods there. ]

For what it is worth, I think you are good-hearted and brave, Rondo. This power is important, I'm sure, but I don't know that you need it to achieve your goals.

[ salvation, and punishment. it's a lot to think about - the gods understanding of humanity at home feels complex, feels... distant. aelfric's treatment of him was harsh; sazantos, who carried aelfric's bloodline, treated him much the same. but it's hard for him to feel bitter about either, really. if the gods don't try, then its up to humanity to persevere.

he looks up at gale, finally, when he finishes - eyes a little wide like he's surprised at the praise, and then ducks his head. like maybe he doesn't quite believe it, but he takes the compliment all the same. ]

... You are too kind, Mr. Gale. Thank you. [ ... ] Now that the Gate of Finis is opened for us to confront Sir Sazantos, that is certainly true. The most difficult part was completed. And... I pray that my companions were able to defeat him without me. I'm sure they could.

[ though that hurts, too. there's no closure. no goodbye. just an open wound that might never heal with sazantos' name stitched into it, and a frigid cold cavity where the flame used to be. ]

If he sent me here to keep me from dying, then it does feel a bit... questionable. [ considering, ] But... in sending me here, I have been able to meet all of you. And for that, I could not be more grateful.

I think the lesson I have learned from all of this is that it is easier to solve our problems from the place of "alive" as opposed to anything else.

It is like Lanceboard. So many things seem insurmountable when face to face, but ... death is an ending. Alive means there is a space to move to next, even if it feels your opponent has you in their jaws. A pawn can claim Cyric, with the correct choices.

[ the chess analogy with funny names isn't lost on him, and rondo falls quiet, thinking it over. death is an ending. alive means there is a space to move to next. ]

...I get what you mean. [ maybe he is dead. maybe this is something else. but whatever it is, it's a place that rondo exists, a place that he can maybe do something, can maybe help someone, can maybe set things right. it's not home. and whatever happens, or already happened with sazantos, is something that's right now out of his control. what happens here is the present - that's his next move.

he takes a deep breath, and after a moment, he smiles. ]

...thank you, Mr. Gale. I... [ uweh. ] You give really good advice, you know?

mygod | pc catchall | gale

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