[ prp ] Good Omens (sindri & nergui)

[lizbot]

There was a glinting piece of metal in the dirt, and stooping down to inspect it, Sindri brushed it off carefully before picking it up. A pin, and very fortunately, it was pointed toward the massive structure ahead, the tower that had called to her more strongly than anything else the past few years. Plucking it off the ground, the horsewoman tucked it into one of her braids with a small smile, obscured by the veil over her mouth. Turning to the pack beast rented from Halloween proper, she intoned, "I suppose you will not die today, but this morning's tea insisted it would be soon." She patted its neck and fed it a candy and perhaps dallied a bit o'erlong in the shadow of the monstrous tower.

Home was a place that existed years ago. Home was a sister and a forge and a temple.

It was rare that the pull of fate, the patient inevitability of Death's will, should give Sindri anything but direction and confidence. Yet here she was, quietly distressed that this looming structure should replace all she treasured while housing nothing that could possibly compare. The tower was her future, nailed down and fixed upon a path once more, and whatever hopes, whatever optimism she'd once had were now as nothing because the actuality was straight ahead.

"Perhaps today is not propitious for this undertaking," she reasoned with the beast, which was horse-like though most horses were not quite so round. "I believe we'll go back, just to make sure we arrive on the correct day."  

[lizbot]

It was reflexive, what came next: a mild oh, followed by Sindri turning from Nergui to the beast with a nod and intoning, "This is a definite sign to go back." Because she'd never been shy or polite about the other's status as a bad omen. It was simply a matter of existence, and not even a bad, either. An interesting and curious one, though perhaps best approached with a horseshoes and clover.

It took a moment, for the habits of centuries to be replaced by sudden realization. Turning from the beast, eyes wide and for once, expressive in their shock, "You're alive." And then, quizzical, "Does this mean you've actually been lucky all along?"

There were a hundred questions waiting behind the one, a barely contained onslaught.

beejoux

 

[lizbot]

"Perhaps you were a sign of things to come, and now that they are past, the significance is only in looking back. Although since there were two..." Sindri's voice trailed off thoughtfully, mind going down the paths where two such children may have greater meaning. There was much that was different in the world they occupied, but the 'crafter seemed much the same.

She only stayed lost in though for a moment before seeming to remember something, "Oh yes," and then she gave Nergui a small hug which was only slightly off as this was a thing they did not do. At least to one another,

It was perhaps less a hug and more hug-like. As if she was following a mental diagram. Apparently Sindri had some sense of social nicety, and continued by reassuring the priestess, "I am very glad you are not dead, though I'm sure, being dead is a charming experience from that side, rather than that of those experiencing loss." A pause and then, voice soft and even, "My sister, Jora, have you seen her since...?"

The thread of hope in her voice, after seeing a familiar face alive and well (discounting the bandages and altered eye) was unmistakable.

xbeejoux

 

[lizbot]

Sindri, distancing herself once more, nodded solemnly as that thread of hope strengthened. Nergui was both priestess and omen (though the nature of latter was now debatable) and both these things meant her guiding words would not be taken lightly. The crafter took the pack beast's lead once again, and glanced toward the Tower.

"Perhaps that is the answer then," she commented to the fat, sturdy creature, scratching its ears for a moment before gently tugging it forward. She would go home today.

Of course as this was Sindri, her next question was, "What happened to your eye?"

beejoux

 

[lizbot]

She almost said Death's will but that was obvious. And nearly the word hubris as she appreciated the cycle of tales, but that was much too flippant and unhelpful besides. Instead she answered vaguely, "I journeyed to what remained but what could have caused...that..." Sindri trailed off, shaking her head.

beejoux

 

[lizbot]

"There are those who consider the insane as blessed and further seeing," Sindri offered, but did not state that she felt similar. It was a thing she would have to take into consideration further than an interest in the trivia of the world's cultures.

There was a lull as they walked, and then the smaller mare stated, "If you have been with the remains of the Clan since then, then you must know much about how this," she gestured to the tower ahead, "...came to be."

beejoux

 

[lizbot]

The focus on the priestess, had Sindri cocking her head in consideration. "So the Priestess truly is Death's chosen?" There had been rumors, but it was not without a pang to hear that it been Medea's hand and not Aisa's that Death had driven to lead the Clan. The heir had always been a figure greatly admired by Sindri, even after her crush had faded into something more reasonable. But she was not one to argue against the greater will, though hope for the heir remained.

For a moment, the mare wanted to argue the nature of dead end paths, and to inquire as to the destitution of the Clan. Instead Sindri found herself once again distracted by the structure ahead.

"What is it like, inside?" It was not the islands, could never be the home of her childhood and formative centuries. But perhaps it would be a good place to return again and again in the coming age. "We share it?"

beejoux

 

[lizbot]

The interest in the Tower faded back at Nergui's description of Medea. Slowly, Sindri turned her head to give the other a solemn gaze before stating calmly, "Nothing surpasses Death." And then, after a moment, asked in a tone the other was familiar with, "Priestess, have you suffered so greatly as to lose faith in the one who raised you up?" It was not an accusatory tone, but instead the sort that indicated the mare was very ready to discuss this, for centuries if necessary, without ever budging an inch in her own belief.

Sindri spoke as one who had experienced loss and questioning in her life, but never truly hardship. In the aftermath, her own faith was shaken and fragile, but with time and meditation, Sindri was able to not just reaffirm, but strengthen in her devotion to Death.

But she had never been marked out as Nergui or her cousin had. Even within her own strict home, the crafter was much indulged where her sister was held to a viciously strict and demanding standard. A constant wanderer and easily able to blend with the folk of Halloween, she didn't have to face the tragedy of their clan's destruction every day through the simple act of waking up.

Despite her words though, Sindri's steps did not falter or hesitate as she walked toward the Tower, Medea's domain.

beejoux