Goth Phase - Printable Version

From the central hub of Orion's heart Jampa could look up at the arc of stone surrounding the forum, with most of the seats still intact thanks to their proximity to the cave floor. She had spent a few hours tracing back and forth among them. The seats had gaps between them much like the larger buildings, and she spent some time mulling over the significance, as one might investigate and ponder the relevance of Stonehenge.

She had tried studying it all from the highest point across the forum, and then the lowest; some angles afforded glimpses of the raised throne upon its distant platform, while others let her study the tower structure - distantly, anyway. The path to Tunnel I was one she had yet to walk, and she had learned to be cautious with Pride's guidance. Curious as Jampa was of her enviornment, she wouldn't take massive risks.

That said, Jampa was quite comfortable with the ruins. When the forum's puzzling truths did not become immediately apparent Jampa's interest waned. She headed away from the curving structure in the center and in to the surrounding passageways between the buildings, and there in the dark she heard a voice.

It wasn't the presence of the voice that made her pause, but the contents of the message. Someone was calling for her father.

It did not sound like James. Tenzin would have been sleeping beneath the waterfall of Pisces, so it could not have been him either. Jampa could not tell if it was a malicious calling or not; she did not even think to question it, and instead began to look around for the source of the voice - it had only called the one time, so she could have imagined it.

"Hello...?" Jampa called out, eventually. At one point she paused and used her ears, sensitive as they were, but she could not hear movement. As she turned her head and tried to stare obliquely in to the darkness, she thought she saw something catch the dim quartz-light, and had to double-take.

"Is.. Is someone there...?"

Pride pushed up at the sound of the voice, sweeping out with graceful steps. He'd been resting, wakening gently from sleep, and ahead he spotted Jampa also creeping forward. He came up alongside her, leaning down to offer a gentle brush of his nose along her shoulder. "You can come, if you like," he told her warmly, amiably. "It is only-..."

Pride trailed off as he looked up, faltering in speech and step as the sight of the black-winged seraphim swept slowly into sight. "...Temperantia?" Horror gripped him. As his reason caught up he kicked back into movement, faster now, more urgent.

"Temperantia-? What happened to you?" he asked as he approached, worry knitting his brow and lacing his tone with worry.

...Betrayed? Pride could hardly believe what he was seeing; it was like a nightmare, like something he might wake up from any moment. What the hell had happened to them-?

He glanced to Jampa, worried--but sending her away now would do nothing helpful whatsoever. Instead he drew closer, offering his flank. "It's all right," he told her, in a murmur, and then looked to Temperantia again. "Can you tell me of this--Creator? Can you tell me who, ah, Dontacael is? I do not know the name," he explained, tone half apologetic.

Silver eyes travelled over the ring, the wings. "Are you in pain? I may be able to help you," he added, in explanation.

As for Temperantia's decisions, he couldn't say that he disagreed. Astraea's games had cost them all too much, by now. Maybe killing him would be for the best.

With her father there she felt much better. The voice was not one that she knew and as friendly as she wanted to be, she was also somewhat frightened; Jampa was a mild-mannered child and for all her precocious habits she was also, in the end, a shy one. With Pride leading her safely from the sleeping place through the dark she thought, maybe this is another of his friends, like James. A new friend for me. New friends were always worth it, right?

It was only a moment; Pride saw the figure and spoke a word, which later Jampa would understand was the creature's name. The way Pride's voice vacillated from the warmth and welcome he'd displayed for herself and the sheer horror that gripped it after was unnerving. She had never heard his voice in such a way before and it made the girl freeze, falling upon the deerborne instincts within herself.

Jampa's ears pivoted attentively toward the winged creature. She listened to its odd cadence and shared a few glances with Pride as the tale wove itself. They spoke of someone called Astraea, and someone else named Dontacael, which the girl misinterpreted as being a mother-figure (not aware that Mother was a name rather than a title). Themes of redemption went right over Jampa's head; she soon became discombobulated, feeling utterly out of place here while the adults had their conversation - a common occurrence that Jampa was learning to revile.

And her father would do what he did best: listen, mend, be a force of good. He would not know of Jampa's confusion or the stoking of resentful embers as he swept in to save the day; she did not speak, but watched bright-eyed as the pale stag attended his friend.

Pride stood silent, listening. He became aware--painfully aware--of the silent presence of Jampa at his side. He could not shield her from this completely. How much does she understand..? But he didn't want to ignore her, either. He was always... inclusive, as much as he could be. Children were but young adults. It was one reason for his brief disagreement with James on how to raise her: control and muffling of their thoughts and minds did nothing to develop them.

Nor did he want her terrified. He opened a link, briefly, a quiet murmur so he could try and explain to Jampa as best he could. He spoke aloud as he did so, but the telepathic link was for meanings. He wasn't certain that Jampa would understand it all without that link. "Jampa, this is Temperantia. They are one of the Seven. Sworn to protect innocents." Images and thoughts came with this, if brief: the concept of guardianship, an image of a white wolf standing proud, protective, in front of frightened faces. "Temperantia, this is Jampa. She is my daughter, yes. I would say you have been gone--I do not know; a cycle? Perhaps two?" Since he'd seen them last, at least. "Temperantia," he went on, looking to Jampa again--addressing her--"says they were in a chrysalis after a confrontation, and have learned some things." Meaning came with this, telepathically, but Pride gave few details--he still wasn't sure about them, himself. They are hurt, but I do not know how. I will try to find out more. It's important to gather as much knowledge as we can before ever acting on something rashly, he explained, and this part was all telepathic only. A lesson, to go with the incident--it was good to teach as he went, he thought. He tried to come across confident, calm, but he was a little rattled; he looked back to Temperantia.

"As far as your pain, I can heal it as best I can--it is tiring for us both, but it may help. A gift from Tenzin, this magic," he added, though notably perhaps, he made no mention of Tenzin being Jampa's other parent. "So what you are saying... please tell me if I understand correctly," and here he spoke slowly, thoughtful--unaware of Temperantia's rising disgust--"Astraea tricked you somehow--how?--and showed you this, Creator? And this harmed you, and all you can think about now is... you say Mother, and its creator 'Dontacael?'" Pride's brow furrowed. He'd known Astraea, of course, to be Mother's enemy. The stag had gathered them, aided in the charge in Cetus against the Hive, where first he'd glimpsed Temperantia to begin with.

Pride wondered, briefly (careful not to send this to his daughter, of course) whether Temperantia had simply... snapped, at last. If the stress, or perhaps something lingering and physical, of Mother's infection had finally driven it mad.

He hoped not.

But even if not--what were they to do-? Astraea had to answer for this, of course, if it were true. And Mother; this Dontacael..? What of them? What of this Creator? Pride had words, but little meaning to go with them. He hoped only that Temperantia had it within them to explain a tad more clearly.