ORIGIN - Welcome To Your Cubicles

- THE LEVIATHAN -

The whole way there, he had--aside from offering to carry one beneath each arm if they grew tired--explained the necessities of their tasks.

'We work to create an army for our own Creator,' he had told them, his tone easygoing as he'd led the way along. 'Cepheus is the heart of this nest's beauty, and glory, where the highest-ranking among our kind visit and are entertained. But we are not without our enemies...'

He'd told them a little about what to expect. About the old era, when rebels slithered among the hidden spaces, spouting their venom and killing in secret. He warned them that such filth could never taint the Room of Kings. And he'd explained that they--the matched pair--had been created from failed rebels themselves, their dead stones given new life and purpose to defend the very thing their previous owners had tried to destroy.

"Isra," he was continuing, as he swept into Cepheus and across the grassy knoll, "is this room's Guardian. You will in part be answering to her, and in part to the Valkhand, Aethril, who comissioned your creation. I think I will hand you off to Isra, shortly, to begin your instruction--unless Aethril happens to be present. But your task will always be to guard this place, and those within it. Do you have any questions?" he asked, glancing to them, as long strides carred him across the manicured grounds toward the Palace doors.

@Dawn @Dusk

Dawn stepped delicately across the perfectly trimmed grass, but she was nowhere near as elegant on the inside. Her insides were practically tying themselves into knots with tension and excited anticipation. Now, finally, they had found their one true purpose. The perfect place for them in life. She could already feel that this job was perfect for her, and she was perfect for this job.

It wouldn't be easy, from the sound of it. Sneaky, dirty rebels could be lurking around any corner. But she--she and her twin would help weed out every threat and keep them from entering this room. They were made for this, and Dawn would gladly die for her purpose now that she knew what it was and how important it was.

She owed her very existence to Aethril, after all. It was Aethril, whom Dawn already thought of as a practically godlike figure, who had given them another chance at life. Why shouldn't she be happy to sacrifice everything she had for Aethril when she would have had nothing without her? Dawn would show her that they were worth it.

"I do!" she piped up eagerly when Vargas had finished. "How do you pick out a rebel? If they're the sneaky sort?"

Dusk picked her way across the lawn with careful, dainty steps. She seemed more focused on not crushing even a single blade of grass than on what Vargas was saying, but her pricked ears said otherwise. She was listening intently, absorbing all the information given like a sponge.

"What were our previous lives like, so we may learn from their behavior what to expect?", she asked, finally looking up to gaze upon the palace, looking around at everything and mapping it to her memory.

She would walk the entirety of the cave when she was able, to learn the ins and outs of everything so she may travel without needing to remember directions. If there were hiding places in here, she'd find them, and if able, destroy them or make them unusable.

"Sister," she said, "We should learn to fly."

Her wings ruffled and she spread them partially, looking back at the limbs curiously.

@Vargas

- THE LEVIATHAN -

They seemed a good pair--a good match, if... different. Complementary. One was eager, vibrant, energetic; the other considered, calculating. Heart and mind, it seemed, in two differing bodies. So long as they stayed together, they would--he judged--do well.

"It may be difficult to tell. They may hide it!" Thoughts itched at the corners of his mind, sinister, menacing. He rejected them. "There are magics to aid you in seeking out such things--looking directly into minds, for example; but even thoughts can be hidden." Claws at the gate. He kept onward, crossing one of the alabaster bridges that spanned the narrow pools. "Some of them may be outright hostile--as your stonegivers were. Some of them may be spies, or scouts, infiltrating unseen. It is your job to root them out, to turn them in or to destroy them--but your masters will explain more when you report in," he explained.

He came to a halt nearer to the gates, lifting his head, looking around. No guards, he thought, absently. That was nothing new; Isra knew everything that came and went, here, whether she showed herself or not. And her Oilstone golems would be ready if she were resting or away--a rare occurrence.

"AETHRIL? ISRA?" he called, head tilting a little to one side. "YOUR GUARDIANS HAVE HATCHED."

@Aethril

It was a careful process.

A little branch that fell from a tree. A few Hellswan feathers that had been shed while they preened themselves. A small, tinkling silver bell she had found in her room, from a time long forgotten. She weaved them together with some thread; until the feathers fluttered on the end of the stick and the bell jangled along with them.

Obieth would have ripped it apart, but it'd likely do for Asher. It would save her hands from their little claws during training, at the very least.

She would have went to show it, when Vargas roared for her attention.

Ahh-- the guardians. She was interested to see how they'd turned out, but she was more interested to see if that shapeshifting creature would be more useful in this life. The little toy was settled on her table as the Valkhand left her quarters and passed through the barrier.

Heels clicked down the hallway, the sound reverberating long before Aethril came into view around the corner. With cloak fluttering behind her she made a beeline for Vargas and the new creations, slowing down as she made a half-circle around the twin pair. "Ahh, thank you, Vargas," she almost sang, pleased.

Elegant, gentle-faced, white. She reached one hand out, fingertips grazing Dawn's neck and the soft down-feathers along her shoulders. "A shame about the antlers," the Hand mused. It made them stand out; an odd halo of colour above something so pale, so clean-- but everything else... "They'd be perfect, otherwise."

Her gaze flicked to the Master. "Which one is which?"

@Dawn

The more Vargas explained, the more daunting their task seemed to be. For every method of rooting out a rebel he named, the Master also listed ways that the rebels might dodge detection. They would have to fight, to learn magic, to learn to fly (as Dusk suggested), to be cunning and astute, but even that might not be enough.

Dawn felt a cold lump gather in her throat at the prospect of it all, and tried to swallow it to no avail. They would learn. They had to. Her wings twitched with a nervous energy as they entered the palace. I am about to meet my Master. The most exalted person in this Palace. The one to whom I--we--owe our whole existence.

But hey, no pressure, right?

(...)

Aethril appeared around the corner, and it was as if gravity itself intensified. Dawn bowed her head, not knowing what else to do with the sheer amount of reverence and respect her presence demanded. She held perfectly still as the Valkhand brushed her fur, only daring to exhale when she took her hand away. Her gaze dropped lower at the comment on their antlers, although it hadn't been their mistake. She still felt disappointment in herself for disappointing the Hand.

But Dawn knew now with an iron-clad certainty: she would be wholly loyal to Aethril, now and forever. She would defend the Hand with everything she had. She would succeed.

@Dusk

Dusk followed silently, nervous. There was already so much weight resting on her and Dawn's shoulders... she wondered if they would ever be able to live up to the expectations placed upon them.

As they approached the palace she looked up, staring up at it, its shadow cast like a daunting beast looming. They shivered and felt like they were walking into not a home... but a prison. It was unsettling.

She stopped dead as she saw Aethril in all her ethereal beauty. It was strange looking at her, how... soft she looked. With her smooth skin, delicate hands, and her dark blue hair falling in pretty curls over her shoulders. Yes, she was pretty, but she looked... strange, almost. Dusk couldn't find the words to describe her.

’Dangerous,’ she thought, unsettled.

Aethril drew closer and closer, ears pinning as she spoke of their antlers. She looked up and barely saw the tip of one and saw blue. Not white, not like the deer that populated Cepheus.

"I'm sorry, Miss Aethril," she spoke softly, averting her eyes and standing still, head tipped down like Dawn's was.

Maybe if she moved as little as possible, she'd disappear. Perhaps Aethril's sight was based on movement...

@Vargas

- THE LEVIATHAN -

Vargas studied Aethril as she approached; he then dipped his head in a gesture of respect as she drew closer. Pleased--she seems pleased, he thought, which was a good thing. At her remark, though, he glanced to them with a nod and a grunt. "It is. I still haven't figured out if I can influence gemstone placement but it does... mar the appearance. My apologies," he added. It had been his own first thought upon seeing them, too; the antlers ruined the effect completely.

Well, if she wanted them remade, she knew who to ask.

He gestured, then, to Dusk. Specifically, to the glittering Fire Opal of the antlers. "This one was the attacker," he explained, his tone indifferent, aloof. There was no pity for the helldeer--because they wouldn't need it. They were made to be guardians, monsters, with power and fearlessness... if loyalty and respect. If he'd done his jobs, they wouldn't be simpering fools like some of his first brood. Still, Dusk's remark had him glancing to her. "The mistake is mine, child." It was bluntly-spoken. Not that he wouldn't kill and remake them on command, but he did own up to his errors, and he didn't want the young ones thinking they had made some form of mistake. That should be reserved for real errors.

He looked, then, to Aethril.

"I did not name them; their names, titles, are up to you. I will leave them with you, now, unless you wished more? They should have the Hellswan throats and teeth, and abilities of flight, providing someone teaches them to learn it safely. And if you want training, let me know. The Sentinel would be best at teaching them guardianship but I am more than capable, myself, if required."

Or, he knew, she could choose his Overseer--Cain was somewhat overworked, but the hybrid was already aiding Aethril; and in any case, they seemed to get along.

@Aethril