Once King's Words
22st of July 2006 A.D.
"Her boyfriend's sister," you laugh, giggle really, though the sound does not come out as you had expected it. It's like the dance of flames joyous in destruction, it's like the hiss of shadows falling over stone.
Lydia just rolls her eyes in your general direction, her father on the other hand gives you a long searching look from the tips of your, now armored feet to the top of your horned helmet. The only sound in the room is the soft whispering that bleeds into the air from the runes upon your armor, speaking some language just on the edge of comprehension.
"I would ask whose mantle you bear, but that would be a backwards question would it not?" Arawn says at last.
Jumping down from the deck with a satisfying splash into the water that is starting to become less watery and more gooey as the magic of the portal fades you ask: "What do you mean by that?"
"A mantle is power you bear, it mediates, empowers and restrains your interactions with the world, whereas your power is contained within, leaving your hands unbound for good or for ill." He pauses, noticing perhaps that Harry is about to say something, raises a hand for silence in a gesture somehow both understated
and royal . "It has been for good in this instance and not just mine own, for that you have my thanks and to each of your, fair maiden of battles, wise warden of mortalkind, and thou bearer of the seer's crown I owe a debt comensurate to your deeds."
"What about me dad?" Lydia asks teasingly as she walks over to hug him.
"You are a member of my House snowdrop, you cannot recieve, nor do you bear formal debt towards me and it is probably better not to contemplate how many house rules you broke to end up here no?"
"There is no contingency for you being kidnapped by evil wizards," she points out quickly.
"A lapse in planning, one moment more I ask while I deal with this..." the... death god, strange as it is to think of a small g god being right in front of you, turns to the U-boat.
"Do you require aid?" Gard asks, she sounds guarded, but not hostile.
He thinks on it for a moment. "The guards perhaps, they died trying to protect the others because it amused the foe to play with them, but still their courage was no less true for being outmatched."
The warrior nods and sets aside her axe and then as you and Harry watch on the start to walk around the room at a slow and stately peace, their right hands outstretched as if to grasp some unseen thing.
"They're collecting ghosts," Harry says softly. "Poor bast... er... people would probably take anything at this point."
"That is not even technically swearing you know," you scoff. Briefly you consider going over to help Matthews, but Lydia seems to have it in hand and judging from the wide eyed look he gives you before quickly looking away you suspect your help would not be welcome.
Here have this cup of tea boiled in hellfire...The thought is a lot more funny than it probably should be. "Dare I ask what that... felt like?" You carefully measure your words, enough emotion to make it clear you need to know, but not so much vulnerability that he shuts down 'for your own good.'
"Like a star of destruction going supernova only to be focused down to a laser point, like an ocean of darkness flowing through a narrow, unbreakable channel."
"That's..." you swallow. "Really poetic of you."
"Comes with the job," he shrugs. He hasn't put away his blasting rod, you notice. "Magic comes from the soul, but spells come from the head and people think in words, the more of them you have the more nuanced your interactions with your magic."
You are about to ask if that means multilingual wizards have an advantage when Gard and Arawn come back from their walkabout with spirits. For the first time since you have seen him the old man is smiling. "Done and done. An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure as one of your American scholars said."
"Did you always live by that?" Harry asks, more subtle on the approach than you had thought he would be. "No regrets going back through the years? Never took a bad deal?"
"Only those without shame or without sense lack regrets Warden," Arawn answers simply. "But that does not mean I would subject myself to the lash of cruel liege in penance.
She sent you did she not, my once and unloved lady? I regret to inform you that the debt I owe you does not extend to not putting you into a death-sleep so that I an Lydia can escape her eye. Rest assured it will be a temporary one though."
There is something utterly chilling about the way he delivers the threat to put Harry in a coma without his polite manner wavering once.
No it's not even that, you realize, he is being genuine.
He would regret having to fight, but he would do it if it meant he and Lydia could get away from Mab's reach.
"Whence across the blade lies thine honor warrior?" he asks Gard bluntly.
"She whom you fear has no claim to my loyalty and I did not come here to do her any favors," Gard replies. "I do not expect you will go far through."
"I am known for unexpected deeds," he who had been the Eldest of the Ankou replies before turning his eyes to you. "There is a chill about you, but it is not Winter's and there is am flame I know, but only from its bindings now broken. Will you try to do the will of a tyrant seeking to have a rebel returned to them in chains?"
He had timed the question well, just as Lydya was coming back, having settled old man Matthews on one of the benches.
What do you reply?
[] Propose the mantle swap
[] Point out that even if he gets away this time they will never be safe from Mab unless they reach some kind of deal
[] Write in
OOC:If it seems like Arawn is appealing to your nature as a rowdy Colonial... that is because he is doing that. Also yes you can ask him for a favor, just not right now, things are a bit tense.