Chapter 11: Infinitum
"So, you are not going to join us after all," said the beautiful angel as she brushed away a strand of wavy chocolate hair, tucking it safely behind her ear as she regarded the equally magnificent being who addressed her. She sat upon a throne of carved ivory, ebony hands resting upon its arms in perfect counter-balance; in truth, she desired bleached bone but such things were gauche for divinity. Her eyes shifted in the multihued torchlight, sparkling like prisms as they regarded the curious scene before her.
Ten emerald-swirled marble steps below, a second angel emanated an aura of tranquility and quiet confidence, her arms gently crossed across her chest as she carefully worded her answer -- knowing well that one misstep with the tempestuous Melpomene, one who would revel in that result, would bring several thousand years of warded disaster crashing down not only upon her head, but upon the unwary world.
She looked up at length, meeting Melpomene's piercing gaze -- her own like motes of flame dancing in her carmine eyes -- and said, "No, our paths wind through different valleys," she paused a moment, considering, "though both our gazes remain fixed on the untenable cerulean sky."
The other angels in the room nodded in tacit approval -- most, at least -- though Melpomene herself seemed unmoved. Unmoved was fine, Terradyn believed, as long as she remained un-offended. Instead, her fingers tapped the throne with either boredom or impatience, a rolling but off-key melody. None dared correct her, though. None ever had.
But in the way of things, the graceful but untenable flow of the universe, such things remained distinct advantages. Power could be directed just as the current of the mightiest river shifts its flows to circumstance -- a dangerous thing to ride, to be sure, but thrilling and vital. The only thing Terradyn needed were banks strong enough to direct the flow.
Her eyes flickered momentarily toward the locked door, partially concealed behind Melpomene's intimidating chair, before refocusing on the task at hand.
"We propose a truce," Melpomene declared firmly, letting the words echo throughout the inner sanctum. The torches flickered at the very force of the pronouncement, washing the chamber with dazzling blues and oranges that did not quite touch the low-cut amber dress Terradyn wore like a suit of armor.
Such a pronouncement came as firm disappointment. Terradyn wanted -- needed -- an alliance with the fickle faction of outcast divines. They controlled this chamber, the so-called Heart, and though their influence found itself limited, it did exist there, in the most vital of locations. Outcast angels watching over exiled angels as though such a mission would somehow erase the sins of their past.
She rose up to her full height, addressing the council and their queen as equals. "A truce pleases us," she said, "however we believe that alliance is more in order, if not necessary for our mutual futures."
Melpomene's fingers began tapping faster, pounding out the discordant rhythm with increasing urgency -- and annoyance. "By allying with you," she responded, "we declare war on the other factions -- ones that currently hold power far greater than yours in the outside world." She flashed a slightly sympathetic smile for her former comrade-in-arms before adding, "We have a good thing here, Terradyn. Perhaps it is not the world beyond the Gates, but it is ours. This world has been good to us, and we to it. Inciting war is no way to return that favor."
"And should that world be teetering on the precipice of destruction?" Terradyn asked, a golden eyebrow raised suspiciously, unsure of what the council's reaction would be.
The chamber hushed into murmuring tones. Some looked as though they agreed, but just as many or more seemed to take the query as a direct threat -- their stances changed, guarded, dangerous -- the very air crackled with energy. Terradyn did not break her gaze, though the thinnest trickle of sweat slid down her back, running a chill down her spine like fingers pecking at piano keys.
Before the situation intensified, though, Melpomene arose, her silver garments swooshing behind her as she gracefully descended the stairs, a queen confident in her domain, fully knowledgeable that more than the other angels protected her in that chamber. Indeed, Fate itself had predicted the situation, though the result certainly remained to interpretation.
Coming closer, Melpomene reached out towards Terradyn with her power, flowing tendrils of energy that lightly stroked Terradyn's narrow chin, brushed her high cheekbones, silently probing for an answer. When Melpomene gasped, Terradyn knew that she had discovered the truth -- braced herself for backlash.
Instead, she merely asked, "You have found it?" her voice failing to cover the excited tones that lurked under her minty breath like lava beneath a dormant volcano -- a heartbeat away from awakening.
"Him," Terradyn corrected. "Mirai Kishida is currently bringing him up to speed."
That brought Melpomene to a pause, her blossoming smile faded into a disapproving frown. "This is wise? Perhaps the Keystone does not need to know his role. He will be easier to manipulate that way."
Terradyn shook her head, ignoring the whispered agreement of the other angels, "Not this one. I have seen him with my own eyes," she declared, "something exists within him -- a fire that burns bright enough to eclipse the sun. Should he stumble into the truth unaware..." she trailed off, letting the now silent onlookers extrapolate exactly what kind of disaster would befall each and every one of them. Terradyn knew that to be a better tactic than simply outlining the truth for them -- they were survivors, always had been. The first case scenario for them translated as the worst one. It made them eternally pessimistic, and volatile at times, but a wonderful lever when craftily plied. Manipulation had never been her strong suit or her love, but all things had their place in the world, and perhaps existed exclusively for such situations.
"And how do you wish for us to fulfill our alliance?" the queen asked, her voice as unyielding as the crystal that sealed the chamber off from the rest of the world. Intrigued though the leader may have been, Terradyn knew the bargain hinged on her next few words.
Still, she nodded in response to the question, this was simply another battle in an infinite line of previous encounters, she told herself. "When he arrives here," she said, "you will offer him your gift."
Melpomene began tapping once again, impatiently indicating that Terradyn continue.
"You will respect his decision," she finished.
The rhythm grew more off-beat as the challenged angel considered her possibilities. "Dangerous..." she whispered under her breath, loud enough for only Terradyn to hear. "If he chooses to unleash that one..." the tapping stopped as Melpomene reached her decision. "We reserve the right to dissuade him from whatever decision he makes. We may offer him anything," Melpomene said, her lips still pulled into a steep frown. "Anything," she stressed the word as though stretching it to encompass the universe. Terradyn wondered exactly how far she would go, and did not doubt the word flirted as closely as it possibly could to being literal.
"That is... agreeable," Terradyn replied, trying to hold back the relief that escaped with her breath. "However, you may only try to dissuade him with words -- no violence, no force; his soul will be fractured as it is when it arrives."
Melpomene shook her head, "We will decide how to handle that when he arrives." She paused, a long moment before asking, "What do you think he will decide?"
Terradyn let a small smile slip onto her face. "The man may be one of the biggest fools I have ever met," she said simply, "but he carries the heart of a hero."
She let the words float in the air like a falling feather, riding the ancient wind of the even-older chamber. They carried the tones of finality, resounding throughout the souls of those who listened like a lingering echo.
"He will make the right one."
F-Infinity Saga Canto I Page 12
