Cold- the bitter sort of cold that he’d thought he’d experienced beneath the shadow of the Eternity Falling, but hadn’t. Winter had finally set over Xhyolok in truth, its cold breath sweeping through all the valleys and their depths, settling its icy will over a world. A painter dropping a bucket of white onto all of existence, and with it came cold…
Arctic had told him that even now it would be colder beneath the Eternity Falling, nearly as inhospitable as the place after which he’d been named. High on the mountains, beneath that endlessness of shadow and orange light, was the coldest place in the world.
The coldest place in the world, but there were other worlds…
Arctic had been leading him through the mind melting world of the Eternity Falling, a realm of spaces beyond the visible and further away that possibility could imagine, beyond even the reach of light. Places they couldn’t reach, beyond the stars where there was only darkness, and Arctic’s brethren… even for God itself to attempt to travel there would be like attempting to walk across the oceans.
Impossible…
He had difficulty comprehending what that meant, but he tried. For Nolabo- he needed to remember everything he possibly could… when he’d been sent to the north with the goal of advancing Nola interests in that realm beneath god which so few non-Sakaxhy ever saw, he hadn’t expected this…
It was his task, though- his task and his responsibility to further the will of Holy Nolabo in any way possible… and, deep within himself, he had to admit that it scoured him less to walk through forest glades than to kill- Blood on his hands, blood everywhere, a snapshot of memory. So many memories, all bleeding together… blood on the snow. Pristine snow. He was beyond that, now. For a time.
It was always only for a time.
They continued across a landscape as old as time, through the valleys and snowfalls, on toward where he thought Siqxhe was most likely to be- Tasadir. It was a bustling port city and still the largest in the Sakaxhy empire, and perhaps the only place in the entire world where a sibilant might be able to blend into the bustle of city life and disappear as just one more person. Laeo glanced up at Arctic, the Lord of Cold Places, eyes set on a horizon. Perfect vision, cold vision dark through luminescence, focused. “Why would you want to control the Eternity Falling?” It was a deliberately provocative question. One he knew was wrong, but just close enough to the truth to get a response.
“Nobody controls the Eternity Falling. You might understand me, but them…” A cold wind blew, only serving to punctuate their words. “If I am lightning, they are the thundercloud. If I am fire, they are the depths of space, power beyond that of a single planet.”
Silence for a while, hours as they walked beneath the cold of snow and a sky obscured, cold and gray and quiet… footsteps in the snow. “Still, you want that little bit of leverage-” Arctic twirled, burning eyes locking onto Laeo’s and for a moment he wondered if he’d gone too far, if he’d die here in the snow. He was not afraid of death-
Arctic’s eyes burned for a second that felt like forever, and then he returned to walking, slowly, lithely, strident steps kicking up snow. “You don’t understand. There is no leverage- the power of the Eternity Falling is complete. They could break your planet as easily as they made it, and Polarity Light is theirs by right… Iri was foolish, hiding information from the greater good.”
Laeo only laughed. “There is no greater good. Never was, never will be- that’s something you have to get rid of early. Or else you’ll end up as one of the ones who don’t care.” He wondered about the wisdom of correcting a being nearly as ancient as God, but Arctic didn’t rebuke him and thus he continued. “There are different goods. Yours, your people…” It was subjective, but he didn’t say that- rather, just wondered. Arctic wanted the Eternity Falling to be reunited with Polarity Light and to be reunited with something. What then, did Iri want?
A greater question, too- what did the Eternity Falling want? If it desired an outcome, then with its proclaimed power it would move to make that outcome the only one. Why then did it just… wait? He tried to fathom it, remembered Arctic’s insistence that that orange-streaked darkness was something beyond man, and let the question flow from his mind.
Into a sea of snow, they waded- sparkling white that reflected subdued sunlight, snowstorm white that was the remnants of time… they continued onwards, through time, towards Tasadir and the knowledge that waited there, encapsulated in a body of silver that was Iri… and Laeo wondered. Why? What was their division…
………
The darkness of sky, a star speckled expanse of crystalline clear and brightness, single points of light. A scattering of snowflake luminosity, burning above existence… they stalked quietly through a small Sakaxhy village, looking for a place to spend the night.
“We should continue.” It was Arctic’s argument, his pressing and singular need to find Iri and through her, Polarity Light. He didn’t understand why, but he couldn't walk all night. That just wasn’t feasible, not unless Arctic pulled off another miracle. “Time’s wasting. Iri hides herself…” Laeo phased Arctic’s voice into the background as they slipped through the village, making sure that they didn’t draw any undue attention. In the darkness of a cold winter light the place almost looked dead-
Fire’s warmth, spilling out from beneath the doors and the cracks in the buildings, chill winds and the threat of discovery ever so tantalizing on the tongue. It was made ever the more exciting by the lack of consequence- in Laytaihishu and so many things before he’d killed, destroyed, promoted the total destruction of peoples… all to an end, but here there was no end. Only a calm peace, and a nebulous goal- find Polarity Light. Find Iri, and through her, find Polarity Light.
Iri was damaged… she’d rent herself, and made herself reliant on Siqxhe… made herself a liability, all to hold a secret. Laeo almost admired that dedication, the willingness for someone to go through torture for nigh on a hundred years to protect what they thought was something that needed protection, to uphold their right.
He wished he had that conviction. There were so many things he could do, but his world was being shattered. The things beyond the moon, the things beyond the sky they called, their dark voices speaking of what had been before and could be again. Their silvery voices and bright white eyes, Arctic’s wishes-
They found a barn.
It was a fairly nondescript building, wooden and warm, and that was the only thing that Laeo really cared about. The door was unlocked, and the interior empty- it seemed to be some sort of storage for hay or animal feed. Sacks of grain were stacked in a corner, away from prying eyes, away from everything but the cold. Insulation for whatever lay within. A cat lazed atop one of the hay bales, quietly looking out at them with orange eyes that reflected the light, vertical pupils that flashed with the reflection of Arctic’s burning eyes.
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It was a perfect place, quiet… he thought of Nolabo, for the first time in a long time. Really thought of Nolabo, its jungles and high mountains and ancient things- temples to lost gods, fields plowed and plowed again. Empires risen and fallen, darkness and day, stars. He thought of the orange skies and their falling immensity, powerful visions of a million eyes- Siqxhe’s eyes, Iri’s and Arctics glowing bright white against the waves… Truth… he pondered truth as he lay atop a hay bale and dreamt cold dreams…
Waking nightmares, deep thoughts and the stars that twinkled so high above… the gentle light of the moons reflecting off snow covered hills and the warmth of light and its pure tones… He woke to light, a gently swaying lantern and a face, looking at him with a half-veiled fear and a definite anger.
Arctic was already beside him, looking for all the world a demon out of the heavens, a silver eidolon with a vengeance that stretched back into the early days of prehistory. A man with a task, facing down a villager with nothing- nothing but a light which reflected warmly off his infinite facets. “...leave. Leave and tell nobody about this.”
“What are you- what is this curse!” His voice was loud, and slowly a clamor began to be heard throughout the rest of the village. More showed up, peculiar Sakaxhy that reminded him more of Ilyaochi than they did Nola, meaning that they’d lived on the frontier for a long time. Maybe since the time of the Tasadiran Empire and its long reach…
There was a crowd there, facing against the wrath of a sibilant, the cold power of someone who’d known god. He’d felt the sheer power of one of those silvery beings, their incredible strength as he’d been beaten to blood and darkness beneath the orange eyes of the Eternity Falling. He didn’t give the crowd a good chance. Not a good chance at all… “-leave. Leave or you will die-”
Yawning, Laeo sat up and faced the crowd. A few turned to watch him, but most kept wary eyes on the sibilant’s form, watching the steel facets and the way they glimmered in the lantern light. That cat had hunkered down in the rafters, its tabby form hidden between two hay-bales and the gleam of its eyes thoroughly centered on Laeo. At least someone cared… he drew a deep breath, standing to his full height and gently pushing Arctic out of the way.
He supposed that it looked rather silly, a regular- tired looking at that- human pushing a sibilant out of the way to speak to a mob… he wanted that. He wanted, and got, Arctic’s angry reaction, a subtle shifting of his stance, a blazing in his eyes that threatened to destroy everything. It made him look less threatening, more contendable. In front of them now he was no longer a threat beyond comprehension, but rather just a strange new thing. “I see that you brought a light here. And the village, too! Are we invited for tea?”
“...Tea?” He almost laughed at that- they didn’t grow tea here in the far north of the world, where the snows piled up all winter long and the grounds froze deep. “Are… who are you, Nola?”
“We’re emissaries from the lords in Ilaial,” he lied, the sentence flying smoothly off his tongue with no hesitation in the slightest. “We’re on our way to Laytaihishu.” He didn’t know if these villagers had heard about what’d happened in Laytaihishu yet, but even if they hadn’t just saying the name of a real place, a place they might be able to recognise, would help lie, provide a bit of legitimacy to their presence.
“You’re… this is a barn? And your companion- he kills. He speaks of strength…” The crowd had been disarmed- their tools of fear taken and replaced with confusion at worst and perhaps even belief at best. They were a naturally suspicious people, these frontiersmen, but they tended to be suspicious mostly toward Ilyaochi, not pure-Nola. Something he’d learnt before he’d been assigned here, at the top of the world.
“Of course I speak of strength. Let us pass or the skies will burn and the forests will fall to cinders. If our objective isn’t completed, then a death like no other-” He stopped indignantly as Laeo held up a hand. “You- you don’t have the right-”
Laeo leaned in closely, just enough that the villagers wouldn’t hear. “You’re inspiring fear. I’m just getting us out of here. Greater good?” It was the softest whisper, but Arctic slowly nodded. Even if he didn't understand, he could play along with him for the greater good.
It was a good thing that he’d said that earlier. Laeo didn’t believe in the greater good. All he believed in was getting this information back to Abōeo, and… for the briefest flash of a second he remembered that everything Arctic was saying was probably true, remembered those orange-brightnesses, remembered the immensity of silver and black steel that covered the whole of sky. What was loyalty against that…
One of the villagers stepped forward, an elder or councilwoman or something of some sort. He couldn’t tell, but he knew she was some sort of leader figure from the way the others moved so deferential to her. “You… coming here, Nola? You and your beast of silver? The people of Laytaihishu say that the Nola killed the Ilyaochi there… are you to rectify that mistake?” He nodded mutely, a deep regret welling up within him and showing nothing at all, crashing against a mask of gentle smiles and dark eyes.
“We’re going that way. It’s imperative we make it there soon.” He didn’t affirm or deny his purpose, but a general sense of relief spread along the crowd. Maybe he needed to revise his original assessment- these people were clearly far more connected to the highland Ilyaochi states than they were to the Sakaxhy Empire in Ilaial.
The villagers let them go. It was really that simple- as he’d thought, nobody really wanted a fight. They were just scared of things beyond their experience, things that were more than what they’d grown up used to. Laeo could relate… They walked through a cold morning, the last remnants of stars echoing out over the night, and what was behind those eyes of light he could not know.
What was behind the search for Polarity Light he couldn’t understand. There were stakes, some sort of disagreement, but it didn’t quite make sense to him. A tantalizing mystery, one he’d gotten swept up into by complete accident. A mystery older than Nolabo, and more important than Nolabo… he had a hard time understanding that… but it was ancient.
Polarity Light was something from an age so old as to have never happened at all.
The sun dawned crisply over densely wooded hills, over a clear sky, god-rays spearing out across the hilltops and gently illuminating everything with a radiance that felt so warm… Arctic positively shone in morning’s incandescence, gleaming with the sunlight and scattering little bits of scarlet-bright light in every direction. There was a thoughtful cast to him, one that Laeo hadn’t seen before, though. “Diplomacy is… different.”
Laeo frowned, confused- diplomacy was diplomacy. It had always been that way- even back in the ancient times, there had been these quiet half-truths, these agents of society separate from it, guiding it. “Diplomacy is just diplomacy? It always advances, never changes. It’s the same.”
“No- not when you know everybody. Not when you leverage forces to destroy worlds…” Arctic looked out toward the sun, beyond it- to darkness, and what lay beyond the clouds. “Back in the… but that was a long time ago. Now I’m here, and I don’t understand humanity.” It was the most bare he’d ever been with him, and Laeo couldn’t help but feel as if he’d affected something old. “The way of diplomacy is force. Allies are forged through force, and enemies through force. You used no force.”
“Diplomacy is leveraging force. Or, if you can, leveraging a perceived force.” He tried to imagine Arctic’s world of immense power and sterile threats, but couldn’t. There’d always be a way for diplomacy, for hidden knives in the dark…
Arctic laughed a harsh laugh. “You have some use, at least. Interesting enough I suppose, for a human… just remember. You have your words and your lies, but Polarity Light is not a lie. Your diplomacy has no place when it comes to the contest of sibilant… whoever controls Polarity Light controls the fate of us. The fate of everything…”
Laeo didn’t respond, letting the conversation fade into the quiet of snow-laden hills and heavy boughs, considering all the potentialities… the conflict itself was clear. They needed to find polarity light. Beyond that, though- the why still remained in the realm of unknown- Why did they want to influence God? He didn’t know, and that concerned him…
They continued to Tasadir on the wings of sunlight, luminescence over sparkling white hills and the frozen vastness of Xhyolok.