Luna
The night was long. She sat at their little fire by the grace, quietly polishing the new blade they had found. A smile came to her face, visions of home soon swirling in her thoughts. A house that was so simple seeming of wood and work, with a garden of countless types of flowers in its backyard. The forests around it were vast, thick trees of good timber, and creatures of fair looks and fairer kindness that lived among those vast thickets.
She was pulled from these thoughts by the loud groan of her ward. Fresh from what water they could scrounge and find to bathe in and heated by fire, she came back over wrapped in a cloak of fabric and relief. Her features finally untwisted of tension for once made the mature, wise features of the goddess's face seem more approachable. Maybe even kind.
"Is the meat ready yet?" She asked with more patience than she usually had, soft and tender of voice this time.
"Yeah, should have the lamb done soon too," she answered as she handed a skewer while her gilded queen sat on the log beside her.
"You know... all this time we have spent... I still know so precious little about you," the golden goddess spoke as she gently took a bite of the fire roasted fish, cooing at the flavor, "Ohh, this is quite delicious!"
"Heh, thanks. Family recipe," she answered with a soft smile as she watched her gilded queen nearly inhale her fish. It soon turned from a smile into laughter.
"H hey now," she started, "What is so funny?"
"You, you look so hungry like you haven't had good food in..." she let the unspoken words fall, knowing it a sore subject.
They sat quiet for a few moments, savoring their food and letting the tension fade before. At last, someone cut the silence.
Luna asked a deeper question, hoping it would draw out some needed emotions from the golden goddess, "So what were they like, before it all... fell apart? Your kids."
Marika was quiet for a while, playing with her skewer for a little. For a moment, she worried the question had been a step too far. "They were all so... unique."
The knight leaned forward to listen now.
"Godwyn would always dote on each new sibling. He had such a beautiful, golden smile that could light up an entire room. He would encourage everyone to do their best, but never let them hang on guilt of failure. He was truly golden, in all ways," she chuckled warmly, "and he so loved his little chariots. He had models and models of them, and he and sweet Miquella would take hours together, building them whenever Malenia went off to battle. Oh, Malenia... She had such a strong spirit for someone so frail."
The knight smiled as she listened, watching the queen's features melt away from sorrow to joy and warm memories as she spoke of her children. It made the knight question if stories of her awful parenting had been exaggerated, and there were other factors at play.
"She tried so hard, and dear Miquella praised her so often. He made such lovely things to help her woes before they left us... "she trailed off, a hint of sadness before turning subjects. "And of course, Radahn was my shining beacon. A warlord and a conqueror who truly brought our order forward."
"And with it, a tidal wave of blood." The knight quietly countered.
".... Radahn was more than just violence," she spoke, watching the fire, "He was courageous, kind, noble. He was a warrior to his very core. He especially adored his sweet horse, though the name long escapes me. He even took to such a great school of magic just to maintain their bond!" She smiled as she exclaimed with a cheer.
"Sounds like a kingly man indeed." The knight smiled as she answered.
"He was. Perhaps... in another time, he could have even been a Lord to succeed Godfrey. Once, dear Miquella had even asked for Radahn to be promised to him as a consort, should Miquella ever become a god. I had agreed, but I never thought to ask Radahn before..." her voice once more trailed into quiet as the flames crackled, filling with quiet once more.
"Did you love them?"
"More than words could say.."
"All of them?"
"...."
The night grew quiet as the flames burned on.
Ranni
The witch watched from her hiding place with a quiet type of anger. There she really was, Queen Marika. There could be no denying that truth, and yet... seeing her as she was now, it felt different. The doll bodied plotter watched them slowly turn back into laughter, into stories as the knight wove strange tales of two odd brothers of hers and their escapades of smoke, fish, and seemingly endless liquor all within a carriage supposedly made of metal and run by oils. Supposedly, it even rang with music. The whole idea spoke of flights of fancy, and yet she told it with all the enthusiasm of a trained orator. It was mesmerizing how energetic she could get.
Her fingers wove little patterns between them of magic, a tick she had from her earliest days, curiously watching as laughter soon turned back into quiet, and eyes focused on above, or on the flames. The still stars had left the frosted doll in uite the confounding place where her plans could not yet tick ahead. She needed Radahn, one of her last kin to draw breath, to fall and at last let go his grip upon the stars. She was certainly that would push forward her plans when Fate once more ticked forward, yet there was a part of her that worried now that her plans had already become far too tangled to succeed.
She focused on the two, and a quiet smile formed inside. The way they sat almost reminded her of her own parentage. The way her father would dote on her mother. The care and warmth he showed her. Yet it also brought the sting of betrayal and further concerns... concerns?
Why concerns? If these two fell, it would only serve to further her ends. Yet another challenge discarded, another potential god to oppose her slain.
So why did the thought fill her with such woe when she looked at this Marika and felt a clench of sorrow inside when she pictured her dead?
Quietly, she left. She would talk with her traveler about giving them the ring of Torrent. Perhaps the spectral steed would know better what ends these two were charging towards.
Melina
The traveler slowly ascended those long, alabaster steps as she looked towards the great tree above. A tree she was destined to burn, and in so, herself. A cursed object she may have once saw good in, now but a parasite lingering past its time in her home.
Her eye slowly moved more ahead as her footsteps brought her onto the last of those long ascending steps with a soft click, as her eye stretched along the vast courtyard to the man sat upon the large throne.
His eyes looked even more tired now. Morgott's features were weighed with age and exhaustion. Weathered wisdom etched in as wrinklea far too numerous now to count. He was not likely to hear reason before, but something had clearly changed. His duel against the strange knight had ended in a draw and even retreat. Morgott was not one to back down so easily.
"So... now you return, so long in the shadows. Our little candle at last comes home.." As much as he tried to fill his words with anger, it came much more of sorrow and longing. Long had their family been shattered, and that had been long before the shattering itself.
"It is good to see you where you belong, brother." She spoke with a soft and approachable voice.
"Do not say such blasphemy before me... mm.. but... come. I am listening. You did not come to simply swap barbs or compliments. Have you, Melina?"
The traveler quietly nodded her head, light pinkish red hair peeking out beneath her hood. "Things have been changing," she said in a nervous tone, "something has altered the order of things."
"Or someone," he suggested, "perhaps there are forces at work... even greater than..." he quieted himself from daring to finish the thought. "No... such a notion would be heresy alone."
"And what has faithfulness brought us, hm? A dying order full of little more than ruins and withered people. Where death may be forsaken but in its stead is a far worse fate. Stagnation. This! "She shouted, motioning to the war-torn capitol, "Is the Greater Will's ledger, Morgott! This is their final end for this Golden Order." She lowered her arm, turning to him. "Can you not see what senselessness this has all been...? Even yourself have been scarred by it."
"Mmm.. "as a hand approached a horn.
"No, brother... that is not your scar."
"What..?"
"Mother's cruel teachings are over, Morgott. Those horns do not make you, nor any omen, a monster. It was all a pretty lie."
The old, tired omen leaned back against his chair, solemnly reflecting on her words. "You... may yet be proven right... there is something turning the gears of this world that has not before been."
"Then let us take this new path, and embrace it. Let us at last let go of those old grudges, my brother. Won't you... let go, and embrace who you really are? Perhaps a world... where neither of us must befall our chosen fates." Her voice edges with hopeful enthusiasm.
The old king stared at her hand for far longer than he may have for any other. Old, weather eyes soon drifted to the single one meeting his own.
It was a heavy thing to ask. Treasonous, even. Yet faith had only brought him, and so very many suffering. This world had grown so rotten that even its gods were that of a toxic rot. Even his own kin, tragically, had been touched by this horrible stagnation and rot.
"I shall... consider this."