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+--- Thread: [MWS] Ite, Missa Est (/showthread.php?tid=5261)
[MWS] Ite, Missa Est - Skadi Lufthejt - 11-25-2016
“... I miss you... “
The heavy curtains drape over the white glass doors that lead out to the balcony, the fabric so thick it easily conceals the grand bedroom from any sort of invading light. This causes everything to be harshened down into the grey hues of a monotone scale with the exception of one reddened point atop the right nightstand. The smoke from the burning stick of incense lazily drifts through the room, carrying with it the soft smell of sandalwood.
Everything in the room is large, seemingly overdone; the birchwood furniture fitted with sterling silver inlays, the large chairs stuffed with pompous goose down pillows for cushions, an entire wall of the the room is paneled in a pageantry of polished silver mirrors. The huge bed in the center of the room is no different in theme. Its circular birchwood frame houses a rounded mattress, thin white curtains veiling the one lone figure that lay in the middle. Its form is clothed in the finest of woven white silks, long sleeves and numerous layers fanning out as if the figure is prepared to take to the skies.
For a long while, the figure stares up at the canopy of the bed, slowly sinking more and more into the plush mattress as it contemplates further.
“... Why did you leave me?” The figure says in a quiet and apprehensive tone, its birth signaling the death of the tranquil silence.
The smooth and harmonious notes of the voice gently dissolve back into the lull after a brief moment. A sickly pale arm reaches up, allowing the hand to touch the finely featured and narrow face, the back of it resting gently on the forehead. The other hand trails up the bed, sounding with it the rustle of silk against satin as the figure rolls over. Green-blue eyes open slightly, focusing on a seemingly distant object.
Completely fixated on this, a hand slides across the bed slowly, as if reaching towards the barren nightstand at the bedside. Hopeful fingers too weak to bridge the gap and clasp the silver necklace on the dusty jewelry display. Dim eyes settle on simply observing how the emerald holds to the green jade with intricate and curling silver tendrils. A soft, melancholic sigh can be heard as the fingers curl shut, grasping feebly at the sheets.
A winter day. A child plays in a courtyard, the snow indistinguishable from the ashen blonde locks of a young girl. She’s dressed in heavy white furs, the rosy coloring of her cheeks and nose the only color visible on her face. Her small mitten clothed hands leave tiny imprints in the white powder, making snowballs and sculpting various other objects. She hums a melody softly, unafraid of anyone else hearing her.
A boy approaches. His hair, too, is ashen blonde, though not as light as the girl’s. His skin is tanned and his eyes sharp. Across his shoulders, a small bear skin is draped; he is otherwise dressed in a thick tunic of earthen tones and a heavy pair of dark pants. Smiling, he brushes the girl’s shoulder and speaks her name.
She turns, a smile on her face, looking up at him with warmth and slight surprise. Her pouty raspberry colored lips part, asking of him his reason for being in the courtyard.
He responds with a question, asking her to do just this one simple thing with him. His voice is low and excited. His breath condensates in the crisp air as a hazy mist that is quickly blown away in the calm breeze.
Her expression turns demure before her brow furrows ever so slightly. She speaks once more, and her voice attempts to sound strong and convincing as she rejects his offer.
He attempts to interject, trying to persuade her to change her mind, but before he can get very far, those raspberry lips once more part to reject his suggestion. He ceases speaking, and simply gazes at her with a smile before reaching his right hand into his pocket. He calls her name once more, this time to catch her full attention as he extends his closed hand towards her.
With interested green-blue eyes, she stares at his hand then looks up at him, waiting but pleadingly curious as to what he’s about to show her. His gloved fingers unfurl to reveal an amulet of green jade and emerald, held together and strung up with curling lines of silver cord. The color of the emerald is intense and vibrant against the white of the snow and the earthen tones of his outfit. The girl gasps quietly as her eyes set upon the necklace. She looks from it, to his face, then back at it. Her hands rise preemptively, but she stops and looks up to the boy again. He smiles back at her and gives a nod.
Tiny hands reach up and take the necklace, admiring how the set gem and silver both catch the light of the winter sun. A soft noise of suppressed excitement escapes the girl before she throws her hands up and around the boy’s waist, pushing her face into his stomach.
Those days were best remembered as blue. Everything seemed simpler then, so much more simple than the dredge that she now lives every day of her life in. Those days before the chaos- no, the chaos had always been apart of her life, she had just been too young to understand it- things had been better when she had been so innocent and ignorant.
But that was the past.
She closes her eyes and gives a soft exhale.
He was greatly missed. Every day since his passing made harder to weather by his absence in her life. A single tear rolls down her left cheek.
Brother... I'm so sorry. I have killed you. I left you to rot.
Her mind was silent as she pondered for several long seconds. For me you died and so for you I shall live the rest of what has been allotted to me.
She continues to lay in that same catatonic state, her eyes closed and the wet stain of tear marks on her cheeks, until a servant pushes her door open. As the door swings open a column of yellow firelight is thrown across the length of her bed. She squints her closed eyes in slight annoyance before opening them to look at her servant.
"My lady, you have an audience awaiting you. They must hear your judgement."
The woman pulls her self upright in the bed, her skeletal fingers digging deeply into the mattress as she seems to wrestle herself into the correct position. The yellow light serves only to make her exposed skin look even more sickly as she reaches her right hand out to summon her servant to her in an implicit manner.
The servant girl moves quickly, helping the woman to get dressed. With a snap of the fingers, the servant girl is sent out, her job completed. The woman's thin hands reach forwards, gently cupping the pendant on the necklace before pulling it upwards off the display. Gently the jewelry is pulled around her neck.
She stands in a shaky fashion at first, but soon her legs are steady enough for her to make it to the doorway of her room. Periwinkle eyes stare down the long and imposing hallway. The day is too young to cast strong light in the corridor. Instead large open windows allow pale pre-sunrise light to bath the monolithic pillars who stand to bear the weight of the ceiling above.
As she walks along, she takes little notice of how the sheer white fabric hanging between the columns of her castle corridor looks as thin as gossamer spider silk woven in the still air. The dull grey palate of her world is only enforced by how the ashen smoke of burning incense stretches up into the sky as if reaching for heaven.
With surprising grace, she pushes a muted red curtain from the doorway and steps into her throne room. She pulls her robes along behind her, simple and effective, but elegant in the same stride. She gives a single nod to her scribe and makes a nearly unnoticeable motion with her left hand. With little to no issue she climbs the daunting twenty steps to her tall backed white limestone throne. It, like the furniture in her room, is fitted with large goose down pillows and curling silver inlays.
A single curtain is lifted from one far up window, allowing a dim beam of wan light to filter down through the varying coils of blue incense smoke. The light falls across the steps of her throne, but leaves most of her figure in shadow.
"Queen Ishikawa, your first audience of the day is with a peasant man by the name of Misako. He is challenging Nobleman Himana's ruling on the mine's work environment."
Without even a nod, she lifts her hand and swats it left. The gigantic wooden doors at the end of the football length chamber pull open smoothly, though no men could be seen moving them into position. Soon enough a dirty looking peasant man shuffles into the throne room. He holds his hands close to his chest, his shoulders hunched from years of grueling physical labour. He casts glances upwards and his already curled up form seems to stoop even further under the oppressive looming architecture. He hurriedly walks past the rows of white marble knight sculptures that stand a silent vigil.
The nobleman is nowhere to been seen, however.
At the foot of her throne, the peasant stops and gives a deep bow. He looks up and begins, "My Queen-"
"I didn't tell you to speak." Her strong voice resounds through the mostly empty chamber. "Rise."
His gaze instantly drops to the floor as he rises from his gesture of respect.
"Now you may speak."
"My good Queen, I come to you today to report cruel and desperate working conditions. Everyday Lord Himana has us working for ten hours, only allowing us short breaks for resting or eating. My lady we breathe in coal dust, our coughs filled with black phlegm. The heat underground is intense and the air foul. Our men lose fingers, hands and even entire arms to the dangerous contraptions and machines we are forced to use. My gracious Queen, please. I beseech you! Children are even made to work in these deadly environments. Please! Something must be done for us working folk..."
"You and your people work the mines at the edges of the Teichi Plains, S4CMa, correct? Your mine is the closest to the Byōtekina Mori. I am surprised that you did not speak more on the dangers of your mine's location. Why is that?"
"My most humble of Queens, I did not address that issue because I didn't see it as important."
"Ah. I see." She pauses for a moment, leaning her right arm on the arm rest of her throne. This action puts the thin fingers of her right hand into the light, allowing her emerald fitted ring to momentarily dazzle in the gleam. "Tell me, Misako-"
She ceases her speech as an ornately dressed man storms into her throne room. His black hair is slicked back and pulled into a long ponytail and his narrow eyes glare. She lifts her left hand and drums her fingers, her nails sending sharp rat-tat-tat-tats echoing through out the chamber. As the drumming of her fingers start, the sound of heavy rocks sliding soon follows. This man's face is flushed a deep red as he quickly steps towards her throne, his mouth is pulled into a nasty frown.
He is stopped suddenly, ten feet away from the first limestone step as silence falls through the room. A long white marble katana is pressed against the front of his throat. A single drop of crimson blood begins to bead up on the blade. He swallows and steps back, eyes widened in surprise. He looks to his side, only to see that one of the stone knights had lunged forward in order to stop him.
"Himana." Her voice rings out. She looks down her nose at him. "I trust you have good reason to interrupt my hearing in such a disrespectful way." The blade pushes just a small bit harder against his throat as she finishes her sentence.
"Qu-Queen Ishikawa!--" He takes a step back to relieve the pressure from the front of his neck. He raises his right hand to cover his new superficial wound. He casts his eyes down, trying to avoid her piercing stare. Even though he can't see her face, he can feel the weight of her gaze. The marble knight falls back into it's normal position. Himana is unable to find the nerve to speak until the sound of grating rock stops, leaving an unbearable silence to hang over them. "I meant no disrespect. I was simply flustered and annoyed."
"I also assume that you have an excuse for being late."
He casts a single glance up at her, trying to gauge her emotions, but shakes his head when he fails. "There is no excuse that is good enough to even begin to repair the dishonor I have brought upon myself so far this morning."
"Very well. Argue your case."
He coughs once, clearing his throat. "My fair Queen, the peasants and workers have become increasingly rebellious over the last few months. Due to their lack of productivity, their work shifts had to be extended in order to close to deficit."
"They say that they lose life and limb to dangerous equipment you have them handling."
"They are trained to use the rigs by the leader of their work shift. Mayhaps if so many workers didn't report into their jobs drunken from the night before-"
"Don't you blame this on us drinking! Maybe your machines should be safer!"
"-they wouldn't make such mistakes." He pauses to stare at Misako. "My lady, certainly you can see how it is not my fault for the coal miners' injuries."
After a quick moment her answer comes, "Misako, if your men are drunkenly operating machinery and being unproductive, how can you expect me to side with you? All Citizens of Shinkai Shigai know that productivity is one of the most highly valued traits."
"But ma'am... What of the children who work with us? Certainly they are not fit to bear such working conditions?"
"What parents send their children to do is none of my concern. I govern not what positions your shift leaders assign you or your peers to. I do not regulate the inner workings of your job. The climate of your work area may be hostile, but you choose what job you work." Her voice is curt, almost dismissive. "I suggest that you tell your lazy drunken peers to shape up, else they might not continue to enjoy Lord Himana's gracious ability to forgive."
Misako glares defiantly up at her with such intensity that the nobleman takes a step back. "How could you be so cruel to your own subjects while you lounge about in this huge palace? You are the face of hypocrisy."
"The law dictates that everyone of working age hold a job. That is why you have a job. Unlike you, my job isn't as simple as digging raw material out of the earth. Unlike your near sighted and inefficient peers my job revolves around achieving and maintaining a functional standing army, bringing in enough food so that the unpaid city officials and enforcers may be fed and taken care of. If we don't have those things, we lack security. Do you think every job is amazing and luxurious? Everything comes at a cost. You sift through rocks while I bear the weight of the entire country on my mind. Unlike you my work day never ends. I don't get days off to celebrate or play. I don't throw magnificent feasts for fat nobles. I will work my job until I die. I give you both leave to go."
The peasant makes to move forward a step, a movement that doesn't escape the eyes of the monarch. With those same familiar sounds of her nails drumming on her throne, a stone knight picks the man up around the torso and begins to march him out. The Nobleman is far wiser and excuses himself with a bow of his head and the rush of feet.
She takes the moment of silence to sink down into her chair, no longer having to hold up appearances of power of health. Still, most of her figure is hidden, swathed in shadowy darkness. As if waiting just out of sight, her arch-regent enters from the back left of the chamber. Seeming to sense him, she speaks up.
"Kaiyato. Have you woken Re'yoak up yet? That peddling dragon seems to be good for nothing sometimes." Her voice, though still strong in its sound, is far less authoritative and incredibly relaxed compared to her prior tone.
"No my lady, I have not woken him up yet. I will send for him as soon as I get done informing you of recent happenings." His voice is deep and rich, reverberating throughout the chamber in a way that makes her spine tingle. The green of his robes swashes into view as he steps into the beam of light. His kinky black hair is pulled back into a few large braids and hidden under a simple round hat.
She lets out a sigh, "I hope you've come to inform me of something remotely positive."
"Well, the crime rate has dropped again, and aside from S4CMa, production looks to be increasing."
"And what of your bad news?"
"My bad news, my Queen?" He questions.
"You always have some form of bad news."
He remains quiet for a moment, seeming to ponder how to continue. Soon enough, "The Kingdom of Horses amasses troops along our southern border. With the political tension as of late, we should see this as an act of impending war."
In her silence he continues in an extremely delicate manner. "The Horse King has made several threats referencing your state of health. He believes that in your current health, you are an easy target and this country is his for the taking."
"What rubbish. My health is not so far gone that I'll allow him to walk in and have a dance in my throne room. Prepare the army. Ready the blacksmiths the bowmakers and fletchers. I want my entire army ready to move in three weeks time. I will lead them out there and command them myself."
She moves to stand, pulling herself up and out of her throne when her vision goes black. She attempts to move but can not. Panicked, she looks around herself, only to be greeted by a smiling white figure. Its mouth doesn't move as it speaks directly into her head.
It resounds with the choir of a thousand voices inside her mind, informing her that it's name is Omni, and this new place is called the Omniverse. It told her that she had managed to interest it, and as thus she deserved a place in this realm that reflects the wishes of those ensnared within it. It holds it's hand out, showing her a glob of a strange metallic yet rainbow liquid.
With little warning, the being before her pushes the so called Omnilium orb into her hands. It then went on to inform her that this was the very thing that tied the Omniverse together, the very fabric of existence. With it could come anything, but without it there could be nothing. It speaks out again, telling her that there are others like her, other beings summoned into this new realm.
Do not fear death. For as long as you interest me, you will be reborn.
It bids her an ominous farewell as her vision lightens. No longer does she stand in her colossal throne room shrouded in moody shadows and comforted by the snaking tendrils of her favorite incenses. This place is white, but in a different sense.
This new strange land is sterile looking, and before her stands a large fountain.
Frightened, she darts her eyes around, trying to find anything else in the whiteness of it all. Her senses scream at her, informing her of a thousand things at once. Things she has never known, like her mind and reflexes have been dialed forward. She drops to her knees and clutches at her head sobbing as a year of sickness is torn away and reversed. Her body feels as though it is covered in prickling needles, sharp little electric jolts pulsing along her nerves as she falls back onto the ground. Her eyes close and open, each time she is made acutely aware that her detection has sharply increased. Her muscles tense and relax as they become stronger, and within her she feels a flood of magical prowess inundate her spiritual existence.
She lets out a scream as this all over takes her and she retreats into her mind, holding on to anything that gave her hope of escaping this sensory overload. Anything to escape the stress.
Sagishi please protect me! She cries to herself. She pulls up memory after memory of him, desiring nothing more than his gentle touch and his quiet reassuring voice.
She was unsure of how long she had laid, curled up on the stark white floor, sobbing to herself about how much she wanted him back.
But she is jerked out of her breakdown by a gentle hand. She pushes away from the touch, shoving herself off the ground so she can look at the offender sitting cross-legged beside her.
White-blonde hair.
Bright green gentle eyes.
Ever so slightly pointed ears.
Full lips.
Straight nose.
High cheek bones.
"Why are you crying Himitsu?"
. . .
"Sagishi?" Her voice trembles in shock. His voice is exactly how she remembers it. His face, his hair... Everything about him is exactly how she remembers him. She reaches her left hand out, she has to make certain that he is real, not just some cruel conjuration. Her thin fingers gently touch his face as he makes an expression of utter confusion.
"You are real..."
"Well yes, of course I'm real silly."
"I don't... I... You were... How?!"
"I've always been here for you Himi... I never left."
"You don't remember, do you?"
"I don't remember what?"
"But that doesn't matter now! All that matters is that- that I'm here with you." So I have died. She wraps her arms around his neck and embraces him as tightly as she can. He returns the gesture, laughing softly. I didn't know if Heaven was real or not, but I always hoped... Just for you.
After a long moment she breaks the hug. "Sagishi, where are we?"
"I don't know." He admits.
With a new found energy, she pushes up from the ground and stands. "Come'on. I want to explore around and see if we can get any information about this place."
With no hesitation he stands and follows her as she begins walking southwards, towards a large and menacing gate made out of jeering spikes.
"You know, I've really missed you."
"I don't see why you would. I never left you, even though you look different then the last time I saw you."
"Sagishi... You died protecting me when I was fifteen. I'm twenty-six now."
"Wait, what? You're... That doesn't make sense. How am I here then? I'm obviously alive. I couldn't just forget eleven years of your life." His tone is increasingly incredulous.
"I've been thinking about that. I... I got sick after you died. I think I died. I think this is the afterlife. It only makes sense after all."
"You got sick? How did you get sick? How did I die?"
"You... You took a bullet for me. You got shot in the head by a sniper while protecting me. You were twenty when it happened. It was the first snow of the winter and I was so excited. I remember I threw open the doors to my balcony so we could stand out and watch the snow. I... I guess they took that opening."
"Oh..."
"After you died, I stopped functioning. I laid in my bed for months and months until one day a firm resolve took my mind over. I got up, supported myself with magic and killed my mother and her supporters. I took the throne for myself then used those resources to track down every member of that assassin organisation and kill them, and their families. In one of my final battles I got pinned down and one of them bled into one of my open wounds. I guess that's how I got sick. It was something that no amount of herbal medicines or healing magic could cure me of, and it plagued me until my final day."
Sagishi had stopped a moment ago, turning to look at her as she talked about her past. When she notices she turns to glance at him. "Himitsu..."
"Wha-"
She is cut off as he pulls her close to him by her hand and hugs her close, his right forearm across her upper back and his left forearm cradling her head against his chest. She lets her arms hang limply by her sides. "I'm so sorry. I killed you. I left you to rot. I should have stayed around longer to protect you."
"Shamgehsi," she starts into his tan tunic, "Ich naawt yuer fauwl."
"But it was my duty to protect you..."
"Amsh yuh did oi greet jerbb."
"I can't understand you Himi."
"Lessgo uf my fasch."
"What?"
"LEGGO UFF MY FAACHE YUH BUERNHERD."
"Oh!" He says as he lets her go. He smiles at her and she gives an indignant smile back at him.
"Thanks you dweeb." She says as she runs her fingers through her hair in an attempt to fix it.
"Hey, come'on. Let's keep walking."