No shame in it.

[blessedwithlove]

Its omnipresence was still daunting.

Even as its grip slackened, the Greater Will still dominated the land. The golden light of the Erdtree illuminated Limgrave day and night. Turn your back to it, and you would see its children, mere seedlings that towered over all but their progenitor. Cast your eyes down, and you would see a Tree Sentinel patrolling astride his horse. Twice the size of a lowborn knight, clad all in gilt finery.

There was scarcely a tree in the Lands Between without a golden cast to its leaves. Blessed with Grace-given life, said the Golden Order. Autumnal, said others. The end of a millennial season.

It was little wonder that the Tarnished were still captivated. Without a more intimate knowledge of the Lands Between, they saw only the Erdtree's radiance, not the bare and dying branches. They flocked toward it like moths.

What fools they were. Intelligent, some of them, but fools all the same. Generations of hatred and scorn upheld by the Two Fingers, and now they answered the call to service? How could one be so delusional as to think the Golden Order would truly welcome them home with love?

No. They were being used, and he felt no shame in doing the same. Those who stayed loyal were fitting sacrifice, providing the materials he needed to guide the doubting toward truth.

And then there were the particularly hapless. That last girl and her companions, good heavens. He'd almost wanted to follow them, just to spectate. But he had his calling to attend to. Tarnished sailing from the west found the beaches of Limgrave the only place to row ashore, and they all passed by the statue-topped monument of the Fringefolk Hero's Grave. He had his pick of them all here, and sent them off toward the brooding walls of Stormveil Castle. Lords, vassals, rich and wretched alike. They came to take the measure of the hills beyond, and to rest at its Site of Grace.

The pallid little thing swirled and danced, leaving uncomfortably moving afterimages on the eyes if one stared too long. But it was warm enough at night to almost render a fire superfluous, and it warded off the beasts that stalked and soared over the lowlands to the south. Even the Tree Guardian kept a respectful distance, the brainlessly devout pillock.

After years of bloody toil in war, sleeping in the dirt beside a symbol of everything he rejected wasn't that much of a hardship. Though on nights when rain blew up from the Weeping Lands or the sea air took on a particular chill, he was forced to retreat into the entrance to the grave itself. There were the occasional noises deep below, the senile mutterings of deathless nobility trapped in the subterranean graveyard. None of them had yet figured out how to operate the lift, and he doubted any of them would.

He couldn't decide if they were the unlucky ones, or if that honor went to the desiccated starveling pinned to a martyr's bough outside on the hill. It barely ever lifted its head, and fortunately, it hadn't voiced an opinion about anything in days. He was no longer a merciful and compassionate war surgeon, but if that thing interrupted his speech to a Tarnished again, he'd find that old mercy within himself and tear it to pieces. Perhaps he'd do it anyway, save him the trouble later.

Ah, no. That would have to wait. He could hear something coming.

Comments

[blessedwithlove]

"Then may it be said more." He falls quiet for a long moment, watching Ayatan work. There were barely any who looked so young in the Lands Between now. And none that held such promise.

"I found no sign of your warframe," he eventually says, his voice yet more hoarse than before. "But I've undertaken something that should aid in the search. Once day breaks, I can lead you to a site of Grace, and we can test its effectiveness."

[orokid]

Varré just kept surprising her, somehow. She tried not to let it touch her but it was hard not to, even after the sting of the Lotus abandoning her and the rest of the Tenno. and she wanted to hear it more.

"Thank you for looking." With a little care, she was able to get the sparks to take and start to burn. It was a small fire but at least it would provide them some warmth. And let them see one another clearly if anything happened.

"You sound like you could use some sleep. It's not the post comfortable, but you can use my bag as a pillow." She'd heard voices that raw on the Zariman, no sense in him wearing himself out further.

[blessedwithlove]

He nodded, watching the little flame grow. He had little faith that they'd find Ayatan's missing armaments, but he couldn't be entirely sure. She had dismantled his expectations in short order upon her arrival. Perhaps the same would happen again.

"I suppose I do." It had been... well. He wasn't sure when he'd last rested. He took the bag, brushing a place on the ground clean of loose dirt and stones to set it down. "Thank you, dear one." It had been an uncounted age more since he'd slept on anything but stone or dirt. He was quite used to it by now. Even this much could be counted a luxury.

He lowered himself down carefully, mindful of the pain. His pulse was loud in his ears, but slow. He couldn't think of anything more to say for now. When had he last trusted an outsider to keep watch?

But she wasn't one, not truly. Not if everything went as he hoped.

[orokid]

It was easier with a Warframe, dealing with the elements. Even if she still felt everything, it was easier to bear in one than like this. So it had been a long time since she needed to worry about herself or a companion dealing with sleeping outside, it made her regret not getting a few more supplies when she had the chance.

Something she noted to fix later, anyway. If only so she could make sure Varré got enough rest as well.

It was easy to sit by the fire for the night, poking at it once in awhile to keep it going or gradually adding kindling, but otherwise, she watched and listened to the world around her.

Eventually though, she did get to her feet to try practicing a few of the nartas she was able to do in her warframe. If she couldn't find it, she did need to get her body into better fighting shape, healing wounds or not.

[blessedwithlove]

Sleep has never come easy for him. Exhausted as he is, he slips into its shallows with more ease than on many a night. He lies still for some time.

And then the pain pulls a memory up from the depths, to live it once again. Not as he saw it now, but as he knew it in that moment.

He kneels, bound and trembling. Beside him, another figure in white robes screams in pain, convulsing in the grip of a massive Omen. The beast is a horrific mass of black horns and vicious teeth, its claws stained with blood. Those who succumbed were carried away, placed before a massive silken cocoon, resting upon a pedestal of bone. Bodies cut open, left to drain. No matter how much blood is shed, the silk remains a pristine white.

The screams quiet to a choking laughter, and the Omen sets them down gently. Wild, blood-red eyes stare up at him from behind the mask. The cursed blood hasn't killed them, not yet.

"Another cupbearer to the divine." The Omen's voice is unexpectedly soft and hoarse. One could almost mistake it for kind. But it turns now to him.

A tremor in his hands slowly sets his whole body trembling, curling in tight around himself without waking.

[orokid]

At first, she took the trembling as a sign of cold, adding more fuel to the fire and grabbing a bit more kindling nearby enough to still see him in the firelight. And the, after a bit of watching, seeing if it helped, she couldn't help but worry.

The Zariman children had endured nightmares that had them curling and trembling in their sleep like that after their rescue. The many times she'd woken her companions, or been from a dream like that, were too numerous to count.

"Varré?" Tone soft, she settled near him, not wanting to shake him awake but not wanting to leave him along either. Her back stung from doing exercises but with it away from him, she could avoid getting a lecture when he woke.

[blessedwithlove]

A terrified sob escapes him as he's lifted up by his bound wrists, no more able to resist than a doll might. He saw what happened to the others. But now that it's his turn, he can't struggle, can't close his eyes. He can't look away from its face. It might be the last thing he ever sees.

A lance of pain flares through one of his fingers. It grows with every racing heartbeat, rises up his arm, and he screams.

Nothing so loud escapes him now, but he is not silent. The terror of that moment finds voice in quiet whimpers, deaf to the voice beside him.

[orokid]

She couldn't help it, a concerned hand reaching out to lightly touch his shoulder.

"Varré!" That terror was so familiar to her and it made her heart clench to see someone enduring it now.

Memories of the parents and crew trying to breach the barricade some of the children had made in their classroom came to mind. The mad cries that they made, the scratching and creaking of metal, names being uttered-

[blessedwithlove]

The touch begins to drag him up from sleep, eyes open, fire and shadows melding with the dream.

He doesn't know how long it's been. The fear is gone, his trembling now solely from exhaustion. His voice is nothing more than a rattling whisper in his throat. The Omen's long fingers catch under his chin, tilting his head up to stare into his eyes. "The blessing is accepted into your heart. Such exemplary faith will be rewarded."

Then the dream breaks, and he... quiets. He's still disoriented, his heart's still pounding, but...

He brings a hand to his chest, pushing himself upright. The pain's receded. "I--Oh, dear one," those luminous golden eyes are like embers in the gloom. "What ever is the matter?"

[orokid]

Her own heart is pounding hard in her chest and she lets out a soft breath when he wakes, seeming more relaxed now than moments ago. She calmed a bit herself after seeing that.

"Thank the Void. You were having a nightmare, I almost thought you were going to have a seizure, the way you were trembling."

Or that he'd wake up suddenly and try to gut her, caught in the throes of a terror she could only imagine this world could conjure up.

"You alright?"

[blessedwithlove]

"Ah," he glanced over to where the dream had placed his Lord, but of course, there was nothing there. He was still shaken, but he laughed. "Oh, I worried you so over--well." He couldn't say nothing, could he?

"An old memory. An event I did not understand at the time." Perhaps some part of him was still ignorant, to hold onto that fear. Yet...

"I owe that moment everything." It woke him from sleep on occasion, but he was thankful for that. To remember that day so clearly that it blotted out so many inconsequential memories before it. The day he first felt the love that now defined him.

[orokid]

Part of her was skeptical but who was she to argue it? He laughed and brushed it off so easily, but she would have done the same. Probably.

Still, her muscles relaxed finally and she let her shoulders drop, hands moving to her sides. She couldn't blame him and she wanted to trust in him. After all, she could relate only too well. And wasn't that a strange thought to have?

"I'm glad you're okay, at least. Can't say I don't get it." After a moment, she turned to toss a few more sticks into their fire. "Still tired?"

[blessedwithlove]

Tired? Of course. But... still, he felt refreshed, in a way. He looks up to the moon, searching for constellations he recognizes. Oh. Well. That wasn't much, but it would do. After a dream like that, sleep was usually impossible. "I suspect neither of us will find much more rest tonight. Dawn's not far off, besides."

He hands her back the bag she lent him. "You say you understand such things. Might I ask why?"

[orokid]

There was a soft hum at his question, considering for a moment what she could say. After so long, there was a lot the Tenno had all endured. Especially after they'd properly become Tenno.

"There's a lot. The accident that turned us into Tenno or some of the things we did in service to our own Golden Lords, war." A short pause. "We did a lot of things we weren't proud of." There was definitely distaste in her voice at the mention of the Orokin.

She couldn't forget some of her own misdeeds, even after a thousand of so years of cryosleep. They were all well trained, but her knife skills were honed especially for her own tasks. And there had been many.

[blessedwithlove]

Ah. She'd heard him differently, then. But before his Lord had found him, he'd felt much like her. "I found a cause to love. I pray that you'll find the same."

The love he felt now, looking back on that moment that had terrified him so...

[orokid]

"A cause to love. That would be nice." She considered it for a moment. There was no stigma with the Void here, no general hatred for her kind. And nobody that could really be used against her to keep her in line.

"I could do with having some kind of purpose." She stood again to stretch, testing now much more easily her legs held her after a day of moving around, sneaking and fighting what she could. "I was an assassin in the old days. Now I try to protect people."

[blessedwithlove]

A cause, and a Lord. "I would be nothing without it." Worn away to a husk, like the armies they'd bled for charity's sake alone.

"Do be careful of your wounds, dear one," he chides gently. Her next remark, however... "An assassin?" Oh, how wonderful! He hides some of his opinion from his tone, but not all. She seems to expect judgement for her work, but she'll find none from him.

[orokid]

Nothing, huh? She couldn't hide her own curiosity at what cause he was dedicated to. He'd been such a help already and he he had been better to her than she was used to anyone being.

The reminder of her wounds made her stop for a moment before settling again by the fire. Something told her not to mention that she may have strained them a bit while she was sleeping.

"Mm. Always tried to be quick." Someone of them just said the wrong thing to the wrong person and suddenly, a Tenno was clearing a house in the night. And she was good at that. "S'why I picked a knife of of those catacombs."

[blessedwithlove]

There's a little sigh, almost a laugh. Quick with a blade, was she? "As the best bloodletting should be."

He remembers himself. "Oh, forgive me. You wouldn't know, I suppose." She had seen conflict, but not the Shattering. He gestures to his mask. "My order was pressed into service in the war, ordered to uphold our oath, and dispense mercy. A quick death, in the midst of the carnage." It had been horror upon horror, but it had prepared them all for greater service.

[orokid]

Her eyes went wide for a moment, and then her gaze softened, a little look of admiration flooding her features. Like her, she was sure not many people would ever expect something like that from the man before her.

"Are there many of your order left?" If she heard them, was around them, she was sure she'd be able to tell Varré apart from them. Not that she'd want to have to try. And she had to wonder if they'd be half as kind to her as he had been.

"If you're up to it, I'd love to hear more."

[blessedwithlove]

Oh, she understood. He could barely contain his pride. It didn't matter that he'd known her so briefly, she was such a perfect child. "Only a few. We left the war together."

He clasps his hands in his lap, fidgeting as he often did. "Our compassion was not restrained to those we served. We stopped the hearts of all that suffered, ally and enemy alike." He could understand the why his colleagues now extended that mercy to all. The war was so all-consuming, there were none now without wounds. Why not bleed those that malingered, especially when their sacrifice would nurture the Divinity?

He'd once sworn that he'd bleed the Lands dry if called upon to do so. But that was not his role to play. "You would appreciate the daggers we wielded, I'm sure of it." Perhaps he should return to the Mausoleum again. Ayatan certainly deserved a better weapon than some rust-bitten blade.

[orokid]

The more he said, the more she could admire him and his order. There were a few Tenno who had done that in the old war but she wasn't one of them. Not back then but she wished she had.

"I wouldn't mind seeing some of them." Maybe she should sketch out the blades she was used to. Once they were somewhere more secure and comfortable. And she could try training her body back up without worrying about her wounds opening back up.

"Do you still use them? Or are you mostly looking after people like me who get themselves into trouble?"

[blessedwithlove]

"Perhaps at some other time. I'm afraid mine's been set aside," He pulls the small knife from his belt, the point kept turned away from Ayatan with a practiced grace. "For the simple tasks, this is enough." But this settled it. She should have a miséricorde of her own.

"For the greater work, I was gifted something more precious, to act in its stead."

He was almost giddy now, the mania held in check only by a tenuous grasp on responsibility. "You should see it. But I would hate to draw it without need. What beauty this world holds should be treated with respect."

[orokid]

"May I?" She didn't reach out to take the knife but she did raise her hand with some eagerness. Just looking at it she could tell it was fine craftsmanship and well cared for. Nothing like the blades granted the Tenno assassins but no less deadly or beautiful in its design.

It absolutely made her wonder more about what other weapons he wielded. As much as she didn't want unnecessary bloodshed, she did want to see.

"Someday then. I'd want to protect the lingering beauty too." No, wait- "I do want to."

[blessedwithlove]

He holds out the knife invitingly. "Oh, go on." He'd normally never hand it to another, but... well, of course this was different!

"I have no doubt you'll see it. We'll be traveling much further, after all." That was so obvious, it barely needed saying.