The Lord of Fate

Oh Cathay...
The World of Angels, of light. Of freedom and peace. Has it been so long? The great jewel of the Unknown Regions, a planet of learning, and technology. Sacred, in its excellence and might. Throneworld of the Catharian Hegemony. No longer. It had been almost millennia since the disappearance of the Hegemon's Civilization. Gone to the wind, forgotten forever. We pray to our ancestors, that we carry the torch that had defended our way of life for so long. We pray, not for our own safety. But for your return as well, the Disappeared. We miss you dearly, even as our young turn to old, and our forests stretch across the horizon. May we carry your blessing, from now, until the end of days.
"Gloria, in excelsis terra"
However, this time something clicked within Aravae's mind. She had seen something in her dreams recently. A ship from the sky, coming to give salvation to those who think their hope is lost. Maybe it were true, or yet another fake vision. It was open to speculation of course. However, her ponderings were suddenly stopped with a sudden clout about the back of the head by Aremyah. Quickly awakening the young mistress from her somewhat drunken stupor. The Winged Fool only blinked at the air briefly as she suddenly focused on the Cleric who had no bowed his head, and prepared a small silver sprinkler. Even from here, the detail and workmanship on that item far surpassed anything Aravae had in her possession. He slowly, went down the middle of the pews, sprinkling small amounts of holy water on the heads of the faithful. Which, illicited an attempt at holding back a cough-sneeze at the sudden onset of aromatic water pattering across her face. Aravae had never been overly fond of botanicals, especially of the extraordinarily strong sort. And this-- caused quite literally. A propulsion of both noise and sputum across the pews. The sheer sound, reverberating off the wall as Aravae failed to hold back the sneeze. In almost an instant, the entire Cathedrals worth of faithful gazed upon the young Dame with sheer awe. She had the gall, to disrespect the Cleric, and the Church to his face. Now, this wasn't the first time. But it would sure be the last.
In a swift movement, Aremyah, sent a backhand forward at Aravae's recovering head. Impacting with a sizable thump as she reached forward, and grabbed the young Dame by the bosum and quite literally dragged her out. Kicking and screaming toward the rear. Now, service was resuming after that sizable embarrassment for not only Aravae, but Aremyah too. Aravae, was promptly dragged forth through the pews with both she and Aremyah hiding their faces. The former with her sizable wings, and the latter with a shamed hand.
Aremyah and Aravae exited the Cathedral in unison, with the former throwing the latter on the ground in this theatrical fashion. Aravae, impacted into the marble flooring, and near bounced off from the impact. But she had little time for respite, as Aremyah promptly grabbed the Dame by the shoulders and dragged her upward. Her face, was of sheer rage and anger. But also of amusement.
"You must be, the most impolite lady in all the Kingdoms! Can't you see that you are supposed to remain silent? Even children are more quiet than you are!"
Aremyah was full of this disciplining mother bear routine. She had enough. And, well. Only illicited a mumbled apology from Aravae, drowned out by the early morning crowds.
Aremyah chose it was enough, and finally let go of Aravae's tunic. Her voice became low, and serious.
"You must learn, to make it in Society, doesn't mean to go off and do your own thing without consideration from others. Understand? Remember what I asked you to do?"
Aravae could barely meet the steel eyed gaze of her instructor and closest friend.
"I asked you, to essentially commit heresy. Because I want to help us all. We all know of this crisis, and we can't fix it on our own. Do you understand you Winged Buffoon?"
Aravae only mumbled something. Unheard. She only gazed only at the inner plaza. Through the roving bands of soothsayers, and civilians. Her eyes came to rest upon the sacred stone which sat at the center of the City. It had once been used as only a landing platform many-many years ago. By the Archeotechs who lived here long before we wrote down history. It became an object of worship, and never trodden on for fear of being branded a heretic and slain on the spot. But-- it was a place... familiar to Aravae.
She had seen it many times before. The same, black clad ceramite which made up the large rectangle. She had seen many thousands of different Sky-Ships exit from the clouds and land upon it, and others in the region. Perhaps it was that goal she had. The goal to get help.
A few weeks ago, Aravae had been beseeched by Aremyah to help her with a special project of her own design. A working Archeotech radio transponder which could call out into the stars and bring with it, salvation in the form of assistance. She had never before seen such magical technology, having only known signal fires or flags. It was a jarring revelation that not all Archeotech was destroyed during the formation of the three Empires millennia ago. It too survived. And it was nearly repaired. It required only one thing. The Blood of a Pure Catarian. Indeed, it may have been ancient biological locks that prevented its use, but it seems that it was required. The lock was easily bypassed by Aravae, who promptly offered her arm to it. Now she was of not Cathar descent or Human descent like everyone around her. But a mutant, created in a lab and designed for only a single purpose, which lay unknown forever. All they knew now, was that it was sending a signal. A signal somewhere, whose message is unknown.
Perhaps now, it would be answered. As a low rumble made itself appearant in the early morning sky.
::Tags::


