Celebrations outside the Marvel

Mauve lightning crackled and snapped through the whirring of Lady Quorriue’s brilliant hurricane, laying within the deep ravine that dug itself far below the black soil of Vagevuur, the vast head of the tornado making approach an impossible task. From atop the tall white grass of this purgatory, Briek’s Marvel stood proudly. In defiance of the living world, it followed its master to these stunning pits of limbo, joining him atop the brief hill that it mounted. With vast expanse of ivory meadow and charcoal dirt, Briek found it a kind gift – to spend eternity looking upon this beautiful new world.

Atop his study, books grew grey and worn with over-use. A circle had been bored into the wooden floor where he relentlessly paced. Stretched out on the single stone windowsill, Nino slept soundly, the white noise of blasting wind and ceremonial thunder seemed to sooth the sleeping feline. Purring finely at Briek’s lengthy stroke, whiskers rustled in dozing.

Feeling over the various scars that remained across her appendages, Briek smiled in brief humour. “Oh, what they did to you my love. In your extensive slumber, have you forgotten even this? I can remember for the both of us.” He soothingly murmured, grazing his hand against her fluffy back. “If you forget the past, could you possibly know of now? Am I to find Rike weeping in this vast field, or will I see the very gods fall past this tower? I am sure I would know of everything if you could speak – my little genius.” Walking away to his desk, Briek collapsed in his broad seat. Opening his latest notebook, he looked into it somewhat sadly. For however long he had found himself lounging in this land, he had documented his entire life. Although it had taken a long while, he was finished. Lining his shelfs his whole life was on full display – for himself and himself alone. Loneliness suddenly reached out to grip him, but he dismissed it. Even so, he wondered where his fellow dead were in this place. In particular, he wanted to know where Fai was. He had always cared for her, and when he miraculously found himself here, he searched and searched for her – until his tower came to find him. Then he stopped, hoping she would spot his marvel from afar and come running. He never did see her running up that hill.

Nino’s dagger eyes flickered open at the stopping of the gushing winds that soothed her as they would slam against her tower. The constant snapping of electric blasts slowed, until a single bolt of violet lightning engulfed the distance and remained stationary. Standing up, her purring stopped in this eerie silence. Even so, Briek took no notice of this event, and fell instantly to sleep. This well deserved slumber was incredibly brief, as a soft flurry of knocks on his gate jolted him awake. “Wh-what?” He murmured. Guests certainly weren’t common. Neither was silence, which intrigued and disturbed him. Disturbed him enough to descend down his spiral stone stairwell.

In reaching his gate, he pushed that heavy door aside. The pale grasslands stood still for the first time; the silence was somehow worse at the bottom of his tower. Harsh white light pushed its way inside, violating the shadows that had lingered there for so long.

Standing almost motionless, Fai stood, shaking. Blue tears streaked down her smooth cheeks; their salt being collected by her oral-commissure – stopped from dripping down her chin. She seemed well fed, her cheeks stuffed a bit fuller than she had been in Mivrill. In her tiny hands she grasped an ornate oak chest. Gripping it tightly into her chest, she silently wept.

“Fai…wher-“ He began, but drew silent as she solemnly and regrettably stepped to the side, unblocking a grand dinner table from his view. Seated comfortably upon an uncomfortably familiar wooden seat, Cas Coen sat supremely – an eager and pleasant look cruelly torn across his soft face. A smug glamour shone brightly in his eye as he gestured Briek to sit down with him.

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The table was a beautiful chestnut colour, distinct black and amber patterns riding up and along, some patterns looping around the underside up to the top again. Although there should have been at least four chairs for a table of such modest size, only one other had been brought to be used – set angularly beside Coen. Briek took up this chair respectfully and sat down, refusing to lose eye contact, in which Coen respectfully maintained.

To seriously compare seats would be a complete joke, with Briek having a large laugh from it. Intricate and precise thin shavings had left imagery of Citlis’ crucifixion in grand detail, each fallen hair and golden drop of blood littering the ground about him. Still, Cas Coen’s presence demanded Courtesy enough – enough to have his humble chair diminish and dominate any other, no matter how beautiful.

Turning his head slightly to the side to face him, Coen grinned widely, eager to hear him speak. His excitement boiling and stewing far too long he asked, “How has death treated you?” “Well.” “Good. Very, good.” He awkwardly coughed, his eyes fluttering back to him and to the table. “Fai! Bring what I had organised for us!” He smiled easily.

Clearing her throat, she approached the table and set down the chest. Facing it towards Coen, she clicked it open. Reaching inside, she gripped something particularly large. “NO!” Coen reprimanded her, gripped her wrist. “Not that, yet.” Tearful, Fai reached further into the large chest and pulled out two trays of large, cold meat. Black and dark red, it certainly did not look edible to Briek. Placing the cutlery poorly, Fai shut the chest back up and moved to stand behind Cas. She sorrowfully stared at Briek, shaken. Bright, purple glazed over her head, casting a mauve shadow over he eyes as she looked down. “Do you remember? When I first met you, I told you I would meet you like this. Though, here of all places is not of plan.” He cooed, impaling a piece of meat and twirling it around in the air. “I never sent them. You of all people deserved to see me, a God.” Briek remained silent, quietly indulging in the cold meat that proved to be significantly better than it looked.

Cheerlessly, Coen mildly glowered at him – eyes wide, brow deeply furrowed. “You cannot neglect me Briek.” Uneasily glaring at Briek’s aloof demeanour, his fury subsided, a warm smile laying on his face. “This banquet is rather dull. May the miss get us some decorations.” Coen called out politely, to Fai’s dismay. Carefully dropping the chest to the ground, she unlatched it and reached inside, frightened. Inside, she pulled out a large, gaping skull which she promptly and gently set down on the table facing Briek. It was a very familiar skull, beast-like – a large, sharp carving in the bone running down its jaw from the corner of its mouth. Its large, hollow sockets stared outwards into the bright, purple sky. Previously sharp fangs had been blunted, dulled down to avoid accidental clothe catching. “Delicious” Coen muttered, persistent in filling as much food into his mouth. “Hmmm. Its time Egor.” He yelled, piercing through the pure silence. From behind Briek, an ironclad approached unexpectedly, briefly frightening Briek. As the knight reached into a large pouch he had strapped to his side Coen retorted “They laid out Mivrill on a platter like this and told me to take my fill. I did not – as you will likely see.”

Into the gaping maw of the beast’s skull, the knight slid a smooth, mulberry orb. It clinked cleanly into place, fastened by dull teeth. Inside the orb, a sifting mist whirred – a lifeless, shining eye. “I hope you find as much use as I did in it.” He smiled and exited the table, lifting up and carrying his seat. “This was better than I had hoped for.” Turning away he meandered joyfully, his knight followed shortly behind him – an enormous leather sack thrown over his shoulder, dragging across the grass behind him.

“Wh-“ Briek began to shout after them, heavily interested in what they had suddenly grabbed when Fai lunged at him, firmly wrapping her hands around his mouth and almost knocking him to the floor. “Don’t ruin this! Don’t ruin this!” She begged him, gripping his face forcefully. Snapping her head in Coen’s direction, she caught his insidious leer. Facing away he continued along, not to turn back again.

A gentle breeze pushed past, wavering Fai’s long, messy hazel hair. Suddenly, this wind grew fiercer, blowing a gale after a few seconds. Hurriedly Briek ,shaken, lifted the skull which held the orb in its jaw into his arms. As they both scurried inside the tower, the frozen bolt of lightning awoke from its slumber, slowly striking down in the distance, violent thunder following. Horrendous, abhorrent thunder – crackling and snapping down a deep, deep torrential, spinning ravine.