Dragons of Sun and Moon
The world the Scarlet Dynasty knew ended with both a bang and a whimper.
The bang was the Imperial Manse, the control center for the antediluvian weapon system that the Scarlet Empress, first and last of her hidden name, had used centuries before both to save Creation and conquer it in one fell swoop, being turned on itself. The whimper was the sound of the one who fired it, knowing full well that the attack would destroy him as well (as he was in the Manse he had programmed to demolish), and his composure breaking in the half-second his survival instinct overpowered the knowledge that none should wield that horrible device again, and that the raksha, the ravenous Fair Folk and nobility among the fae who dwelled beyond Creation, who it was meant to stand against had better bulwarks against their oneriovoric gluttony now.
Contrary to later histories, the Realm they ruled had long since died; the Empress did not expect her extended life to end so suddenly, and in her autocratic paranoia had not developed a system of succession, and thus no potential rivals that could fill her throne. Just a succession of holding patterns, especially given how none were able to control the Manse until Tepet Marek Pitaka, the Iron Lotus, the Wonderworker, the Reclaimer, the Cruel, who valued the avenging of his aunt Ejava and the wealth of the Realm far more than the future or his fellow human beings - which to him were other Exalted, to mortals the fact that they were technically of the same species of him barely relevant as trivia. He was a product of the late Realm, when the dynasties of Dragon-Blooded had long since taken "Princes of the Earth" to mean a different species than lowly humans, quietly encouraged by the growing rot and political ambitions of the Immaculate Philosophy, but Marek had not even the care for animals that would prevent him from seeing the Manse as a tool of conventional war. That the geomantic engine that powered the various sorcerous technologies were drawn from the careful balancing of elemental forces, provoking random natural disasters almost beyond what intentional devastation was unleashed by the ancient network. The Realm regained the territory it lost in its first Civil War, and then some - but in the process, became the enemy of the rest of the world, and even Heaven itself grew wroth. No, the Realm, that shining and terrible kingdom of the Dragon-Blooded, had long died, and it was Marek's ambitions wearing its skin by that point.
Fitting then, that its end came not at the hands of the Celestial Exalted, those chosen by the Sun, Moon, and Stars, in defiance of all reasonable predictions. It was a sensible assumption; the Sidereal allies of the Dragon-Blooded who had overthrown the Solars who reigned over the center of the world before them, and then imprisoned their Exaltations to ensure that they would not have successors, assumed that the shattering of the Jade Prison and the renewal of Solar Exaltations as a force would be the death knell of the Realm as the inheritors of old kings carried out vengeance on the new, especially when the shatterers were revealed to be the vengeful Primordials, the Titans the Exaltations had been made to dethrone on behalf of the gods. Fully half of the Solar Exaltations had been captured by the Primordials and remade again, transforming their nature from the holy light of order into the raging chaos of demons and the chivalrous darkness of the dead. But there was only ever 300 Solar Exaltations to begin with, which became 150 heroic Solars, 50 rebellious Infernals and 100 knightly Abyssals. There was simply not enough of them in one spot at any given point to do more than the Realm was doing to itself. They certainly led rebellion after rebellion, but they simply directed the rage already there and turned resistance into revolutions, disgruntled nations into archrivals, outcaste and abused families of Dragon-Blooded into the equals of the Houses of their corrupt cousins.
And it was a mortal scholar, a scribe-slave of Marek, who turned the Manse upon itself, the makers of its vast security not having anticipated a man who had not even quickened his Essence through true sorcery or martial enlightenment could stand there, their last lines of defense made to turn strength upon itself. They did not anticipate that the Solars, their Titan-touched siblings, the many-formed Lunars, and the fate-bending Sidereals would come to feel that the gap between mortal and Exalt was too vast for the good of either, and raise up their brethren - not to their level, of course, but enough to even have the capacity to contest their power in large enough numbers, use their wonders, or dispel their magics if given a chance. That edge was what the man known only as the Last Swordbearer needed to drag himself bleeding through the outer defenses, and drive his sword, a normal katana lighted gilded with golden orichalcum to prove a fair fight creatures of darkness, through the console lest he lose his nerve to remove the terrible legacy of the worst of the First Age from Creation. Thus, the bang and the whimper; a mote of irony, that the First Age had ended with the use of the Manse too, though for its intended purpose of stopping Fair Folk.
Without the Manse, the delusion the corpse of the Realm suffered under was lifted, and the remaining loyalists to the Dynasty scattered to the five winds, assuming they did not surrender in tearful relief, their fear of the Iron Lotus vanishing with his techno-magical lash. It was not a good time, as the badly wounded society of a world damaged by overuse of the Manse collapsed without the fear of the Realm to keep itself together for one more day. But the ground it fell upon was made fertile for new life; the Second Age was an Age of Sorrows, a bitter time marked by fear, regret, and want, as the Dragon-Blooded of the Realm and the Bronze Faction in Heaven that supported them kept on sacrificing hope in the name of the status quo. Where many cultures fell, new ones sprang, and the survivors found a world no longer limited by the stagnating, crushing fist of the Realm. But the Third Age was the Age of Upheaval, as for the first time all Creation knew what it was like to live without a ruler of the Blessed Isle at the heart of the world, the resting place of the Elemental Pole of Earth that anchored Creation against the fae tides of the Wyld. And humanity immediately began to crave stability of a ruler of the center once more.
It was not a thought born of selfishness, it was a desire for safety and stability - and how the nations that most benefited from the fall of the Realm were its client states, especially those brought only reluctantly into its embrace. They had enough autonomy to survive, but they were also positioned to see just how much the Realm had held the world as they knew it together. They did not seek to bring it back into the world - but they
did see themselves as its rightful inheritors. In particular, they heard of the Rainbow Sage, the Dragon of Dream; once he was a simple air elemental, the lover of the Last Swordbearer as they did their duties for Marek (the future Sage kept the palace cool). When the Manse was turned upon itself, the Sage and eleven other elementals were infused with the destructive power and the creative intent both, and metamorphosed into dragons instantly, as is the way of mighty elementals. Knowing what his mate had done, the grieving dragon extracted the sword from the wreckage and forged its pieces into five wonders - four weapons of each of the magical materials of moonsilver, jade, soulsteel and starmetal mixed with metal from the edge, but grafted pure orichalcum to the hilt to make it a daiklave, naming the sword Yato, the Emblem of Cataclysmic Fire - a reminder of what a good man was driven to do to stop a worse armageddon. It was said that the family who bared the Yato would be the new lords of the Blessed Isle, and thus the pulse of Creation - and legend bred ambition among the would be inheritors of the Realm.
From North and South, East and West, they came; survivor nations like Prasad and An-Teng, Sijan and Whitewall, and new nations like Cheve and Theca, Valla and Linowei. Only a few were able to erect colonies on the disaster-warped isle, and most of those failed later due to the bandits, internal strife, the monsters left over from the Iron Lotus' reign, or their rivals. But dreams and ambition are hard to kill, and eventually, two great kingdoms, each claiming to be the Realm reborn, and both that would probably horrify the Scarlet Empress if she was alive to hear their claim, took root.
The first was Hoshido, shining Hoshido of the cherry trees and ticking gears, who claimed succession through relation to the Isle's former princes - and unlike so many others, had actual basis in reality. Once, Hoshido was Lookshy, steel jewel of the Scavenger Lands where the ruins and functional ruins of the First Age were common, and thanks to their location in the East where the Elemental Pole of Wood drew generous bounties of the land were quickly retaken by humanity. Before Lookshy was the Shogunate, the last empire of the First Age, built by the Dragon-Blooded after the fall of the Solars, only to be destroyed by the reality-scarring plague of the Great Contagion, and the Balorian Crusade the Fair Folk declared on a weakened world. But one base, one city held, and it became one of the few rivals the Realm had its height due to their military discipline and the technological infrastructure they saved from the invasion from outside Creation. The city survived the Iron Lotus too, but not without giving up part of its past; in the days it became clear Marek had no compunctions against using his most terrible weapon, the Karal and Kirega clans discovered two of their favored non-Exalted scions, one of the greatest sailors Lookshy had ever seen and her technical genius of a cousin had become a Solar and a Sidereal, respectively. By degree of the Immaculates of those days, the Solar should have been executed before her power drove her to the madness of the Anathema, the walking disharmonies, and the Sidereal shipped off to Heaven to be scrubbed of emotional attachments lest the same occur - but the Immaculates had become increasingly associated with a corrupt Dynasty, and the revelation of the Sidereals' existence had revealed how much of the Philosophy was corrupted by the Bronze Faction to serve as a tool of social control. So in secret, a pact was made to two who had never shown anything but patriotism - they would turn their powers to the protection of Lookshy and preservation against the oncoming apocalypse, and the two would be official recognized as Dragon-Blooded. A deception so blatant it barely counted as such, but one that paid in dividends, as by the end, Lookshy was merely devastated while the Realm fell - and when the Dawn Dragon came to seek survivors, the Sun Queen and the Star Sage greeted him, with the Queen's bloodline from then on being fathered by the Dragon of Growing Trees, and his wisdom allowing the Sage to build the new palace of Shirasagi. So was the city-state of Lookshy made Lookshy, capital of Hoshido, the White Night Kingdom, so titled because the light of its first Queen and Sage had kept the darkness away.
The second was Nohr, resolute Nohr of the icy caves and the hidden secrets, who claimed succession through merit, that they were most suited to become Protector of Creation in the Empress' stead - and also unlike many others, had justification to think so. Before, Nohr was Gethamane, the cursed and blessed cavern city of the North, the direction eternally chilled by the Elemental Pole of Air. While it was once also a ruin of the First Age, that was not on the mind of the chieftain Bethan or her tribe of icewalker refugees when they found it; rather, they found the carved and alien ruins were insulated from the snow and frost, and more importantly, they found the Sunken Gardens, a vast complex of edible fungi and moss, giving the nomadic tribe agriculture for the first time. Of course, then they discovered the builders had dug the tunnels too deep; devils from the depths, mistakes of the Primordials, earth-twisting fae, and wicked gods sealed below the earth for their crimes dwelled under the hollowed mountain, chief among whom was Vodak, undying and shapeless, born from the heart's blood of a Titan slain in the initial Divine Revolution. In comparison to the frost and starvation and the fae hordes of the surface, however, the settlers grit their teeth and turned to the path of endurance. When the Iron Lotus came, this endurance served them well, and when a Lunar necromancer-king and his Green Sun Prince bodyguard came to them, desperately seeking allies and a refuge against the mad emperor. Gethamane opened their doors, and in gratitude, the Ghost Moon bound Vodak and forced the creature to reveal the secrets of the deep it had accumulated over millennia of existence, and the Spear Devil conjured forth armies of demons to supplement their forces. By the end, Gethamane had become stranger, harder, colder - but not stonehearted or cruel, understanding the power of the open hand that builds trust and family as well as the closed fist that strikes threats. As a demonstration of the magic they had taught, they forced the chill of their home to warm to merely uncomfortable, which drew the curious Dusk Dragon to the new working of obvious survivors, greeted by the line of Bethan, to whom the Dragon of Hidden Breath offered her services in raising the fortress of Krakenberg within, in return for adopting her own mortal son into the line of Bethan. So was Gethamane left behind, the cradle shed and sealed against Vodak seeking freedom once more, as Windmire was founded as the capital of Nohr, the Dark Night Kingdom, for its people had overcome the hungry darkness below and above them with the shadowy arts of the Ghost and Spear, no longer needing light to protect them.
Over the course of two centuries, the people of both the light and dark kingdom, the lines of Bethan and Karal expanded, becoming powers in the Northwest and the Southeast, before expanding towards the center, eager to claim the title of the Realm's inheritor. Through the power of Hoshidan machinery and discipline, the White Night Kingdom cemented claim to the lands to the East of the Imperial Mountain - the physical form of the Pole of Earth - like the fertile remnants of the Pangu Prefecture, the sacred tombs of the Valley of the Ancients, and even the ruins of the Imperial City itself. Through the power of sorcery and endurance, the Dark Night laid claim to the more mysterious Western half, like the pre-Shogunate ruins of the Myion Prefecture, the remnants of the sorcerous academy of the Heptagram, and the haunted forest of Eseon (though to be more accurate, they claimed the checkpoint to it - nobody could really
own Eseon, not even the First Age's kings). And each found two of the sibling weapons to the Yato, making them into icons of their respective royal families - it became clear that whoever would be the new Realm was a race between Nohr and Hoshido.
Perhaps it was how the dark magics and strange traditions of the Nohrians that alarmed the Hoshidans of dark stories of the worst of the First Age and those Exalted that deserved the term Anathema, with their demonic workforces, their ritualistic culture that appeased malign gods of ice and darkness, and their use of necromancy and the corpses of the dead to supplement their infantry. Perhaps Hoshidans reminded Nohrians of generational trauma of the metal legions of the Iron Lotus ravaging the North, and their worship of Solars of the terrible and glorious warlord Yurgen Kaneko, who menaced Gethamane for decades long before Marek was even born. Perhaps it was both, or most likely (and cynically) it was the implicit knowledge there could only be
one inheritor to the Realm, and all other empires secondary to its might. But the two never quite enjoyed the other's presence. Both could see memories of the Age-ending war all around them in the Isle, so they kept it to a carefully amicable mutual hate, with occasional border skirmishes and pocket battles, but never a full-scale conflict that brought both their armies to bare. Untenable in the long term? Yes, but neither side saw more to gain than lose in a Creation-shaking war, especially not in a world of Upheaval that would weaken them for rival powers.
And then their mediator of Valla - sweet Valla of the great waves and the golden ships - vanished. Along with the island it was on. And all the trade treaties that kept both their bloodthirsty sides chained, as Valla was no longer there to threaten economic isolation to the aggressor in said war.
The war did not start immediately - both sides were too frightened. But then came an abnormal level of Exalted to both nations, and two princesses with a deep tie to both Valla - and the Dragon of the Twilight Sea.
"Therese? Therese? Are you in there?"
If Theresia Corrin Bethan (Therese to those closer to her) was a bit older, she might have had one of her snarky, trying-very-hard-not-to-panic-by-wisecracking moments and said (or hissed) that it was honestly something to wonder about. But she was thirteen, and terrified, and confused.
You would be too, if you found yourself turning into a linnorm one day. And were also thirteen.
She had no idea how it happened. One moment, she was burning the papers she had stolen from that jerk Iago's office, only to find a motherly, silver-eyed woman watching her curiously.
"...is there a problem?", Theresia had asked.
"...isn't that a tiny bit irresponsible of you?", she asked, not kindly but not accusingly, a confused but caring parent not sure if she should discipline her offspring or not.
"...maybe," the middle princess of Nohr said. "But he was going to hurt people."
"I see," the silver-eyed woman had said. "But why now, when you know Iago is your father's agent? You have seen him issue these orders before..."
Something about her tone put Therese in a more...introspective mood. "Because they're my maids' friends," she said after a second. "And they need the money to support their families."
The woman smiled. "Then how did that differ from all the other servants he has released on a whim? Or because you were scared of the servants? They had hungry families too, no matter how they insulted you for being a fosterage."
Therese did not have an answer to that.
This seemed to please the woman. "...the fact that you can't answer is a good sign. It means you're thinking, child. We all make mistakes - the bad just refuse to learn anything that upsets them" she said, before hugging the surprised princess - but not upset, no matter how much sudden touch normally displeased her. It felt like her mother was hugging her to remind her she was forgiven. "And you are always part of my family too, now."
And then she vanished, as if she was never there - except Therese was now also a serpent with a pinniped face and two clawed arms, her tail-body terminating in a fish's sparkling fin and, checking her mirror, a mark across her snout that resembled the scar on her nose. And was also glowing with silver-white energy.
She reacted entirely rationally, really - screaming in a horrible panicked hiss sound and slithering as fast as she could into the caves of Gethamane.
Not that she was difficult to find - beyond the fact that the glow hadn't vanished, Therese did not know, precisely, how to slither at top speed, and linnorms were water beasts; they could do well on land for a while, but they preferred to swim, where their long bodies were more of a help than a flailing drag. And her safe spot was known to her maids.
Speaking of which...
Therese tried to hide her bulk as Felicia Kaneko opened the flap, causing the figure behind her to blanch.
"Erm..." Xander Martialis Bethan, Therese's older brother, looked as if he had suddenly seen both Felicia and his sister on the latrine. "You...
are aware of...certain aspects of our etiquette..?"
The maid (and descendant of the legendary warlord that had once menaced her lords' ancestors) smiled. "For once? I know milords are...
particular about privacy, but I feel that The-
the young mistress needs a friend first, and she...isn't capable of asking for one right now..."
"What do you mean-" Xander saw the cowering linnorm. And the symbol on her forehead, a silver disc shifting through various lunar phases. "Oh."
Xander simply stared at it for a while, before shaking his head in disbelief. "Three of the royals now. Seven including our retainers, eight with Flora. When will this end...?"
Therese made a confused grunt.
"Ah! Stupid-" He slapped himself. "You don't know yet, do you? She does tend to just...drop her gift upon you, little princess..."
The silver tattoos on Xander glimmered, as his form shifted from human to ursine, as the full disc on his head became visible. "See? Remember how I showed you this?"
The sight and the words cut through the panic, as Therese remembered three very important details from playing with her brother and his shifting form.
One, Exalted tended to glow - the power of the Exaltation caused harmless pollution in their anima fields, the zone of energy carried by all life, as free Essence charged them with unique lightshows.
Second, that Luna, Deity of the Moon (usually called Goddess, but Luna was a master of forms; while most of them were female, many others were male, or something else, and it was always the same Luna - one could refer to the Incarna with any pronoun and be correct) always kept silver somewhere in her/their form, if she/they did not wish to hide identity.
Third, that the a gift Luna granted the Chosen of the Moon was a single alternate shape, to give practice for other forms - and as a base to always return to.
Which meant that...
"...I'm like you, brother," the middle princess of Nohr said in awe, not even realizing she had become her human form once more. "A Lunar."
"I am so proud," he said, giving her a strong hug.
They stayed like that for a bit.
Then Therese broke into a grin. "So, when is the third sibling with a wyvern form going to come along?"
(A quick note - neither linnorms or wyverns were created by Primordial or godly power. Windmire needed a functional ecology that was adapted to the cold to be farmed on the surface reliably, and that meant apex predators to prevent prey species from getting out of hand - but in a moment of hubris, Nohr's sorcerers decided to make them intelligent enough to be trainable as calvary and battle beasts, not realizing that giving them intelligence from canid species would result in problem-solving where the reward was "steal food from humans." This led to the description of Nohr as a land of three kinds of bear - the ones that fly, the ones that swim, and the bears.)
"Of course she did. Because what we really needed was
more doom - now my elder sister literally calls upon death, for...whatever reason," Leo Aodhan Bethan muttered, hands tightening around Brynhildr. "What is even her rationale for playing with necromancy!?"
"Hmhmhm..." Camilla Myaah Bethan, elder sister to both Leo and Theresia, gave one of her distinctly not-especially-comforting motherly smiles, made even less so by the caste mark of a black circle rimmed by emerald stars. "I think the metaphor is rather darling. Ever since she decided to fix her Caste as a No Moon, it was expected she would take up some variety of true sorcery...but dear sister remembered that summoning is inherent to keeping our borders safe from raksha and Hoshidans. And demons, elementals? Those poor dears have only one life to give, not like full gods - disrupt a ghost, and it is simply a bad injury; they may be forced beyond the veil if killed more than twice a year, but that is less casualties overall. My sweet little sister is so kind..." She giggled again.
"I am completely convinced," Leo said, flatly. "I now fully understand how patching the bodies of the dead together and forcing hungry Essence inside them is a step up from having those poor blood-apes be put in danger by the purpose they were literally grown for. But that's not the point!" He pointed at the letter on the table near him. "That's the Abhari notifying us of Elise's Recognition after she drew her Second Breath! Literally
all of us are Exalted now!"
"And?" Camilla looked genuinely confused at Leo's panic. "I would have preferred if Elise was a Celestial, it ruins symmetry and I can't help but wonder if she will feel weaker as a Wood Caste, but Terrestrials are still quite capable of keeping up, and she adores medicine anyway."
"And that would be fine, but doesn't this strike you as...
unlikely!? She is Dragon-Blooded, Therese and Xander are Lunars, you're an Infernal, and I...well, I have this!" He pointed to the golden necklace with the Twilight Caste's half-sun upon it he had been "gently requested" to wear by the Abhari Creed of the wider melange of syncretic religions that was the modern Immaculate Philosophy. While the time of inherent Anathema for Celestial Exalted and forced social control to select against heroism that might draw the Exaltations of Solars and Lunars to them were as dead as the Second Age, Creation had a long memory for how power-mad Solars could become, especially with the spiteful Great Curse laid upon all Exalted at the end of prehistory; the will of the Primordials that no Exalted would ever find complete inner peace, which in too many led to complete enslavement to their obsessions and darker emotions, and Solars not the least effected. Hence, a "humble" pressure by most Immaculate sects for Solars to advertise themselves lest the Curse drive them to destructive passion without warning.
"...to be honest," Camilla said, catching on as she frowned. "That
is strange. There's no set limit on how many Dragon-Blooded can have their bloodlines awake, but even if there's four hundred Lunar Exaltations...there's
millions of people in the world, and many of them are worthy. And we have
nine Lunars we know? Two of which are Bethans of father's direct family?"
"To say nothing of me, or you, or that
Hoshido's royal family have a surplus of Solars, and even one Sidereal among their retainers - there's literally one one hundred of them, and it takes an entire human childhood and up for a new one to express their powers," Leo finished. "This isn't probable. At all. It reeks of something organizing events to provoke many Exalts in the same place, intelligent will or not. Probably intelligent. Cursed sun-scorched Sidereals..."
"You blame
everything on Sidereals, my dear baby brother," Camilla said, teasingly. "There's an entire Heaven of people with access to the Loom of Fate and with ideas on what Destiny should be."
"And I don't know why
you don't!", he said, exasperated. "Ever since our father...worsened, and Valla was apparently eaten by the sea, there's been no
end of omens and other strange events - falling stars have become more common, rivers have changed course, shadowlands are opening more - and just as a war becomes more and more likely, it's leaders start drawing Second Breaths like they were going out of fashion. And Therese, shortly after her adoption, is placed in Gethamane to be 'trained and raised' in the city that is a quarantine zone. I don't like it."
Camilla nodded, crossing her arms in thought. "That...is something upsetting. I would be lying if I didn't feel my power stir a bit when I thought of how...cold Father was being. But, at the same time...I can't help but feel Valla vanishing along with its people-"
Her thoughts were derailed by a piercing siren that quickly became two long wails.
"...Darkbrood, semi-sentient but no major commanders," Leo said, flipping Brynhildr into his hands and opening it to reveal the moonsilver inking. "Shall we discuss this later?"
Camilla smiled, fiercely. "I will certainly calm down a bit after disemboweling a few hruggha. Plus, I have been woefully out of practice with my Devil-Body on the surface..."
The flesh of the elder sister paled as her nails sharpened, her hands turning a dark shade of blue and expanding into grabbing claws. Her purple hair coiled and fused with itself into violet and emerald dreadlocks made of shimmering chitin, and finally her legs merged into a stinger that shone with a scintillation of all the colors of the rainbow - the spitting image of that which had once belonged to the agatae crystal-wasp that had merged with her to anoint her as an Infernal. Her forehead blazed with her caste mark - the mark of a Penumbra, the Fiend Caste and the students of the Ebon Dragon, the Primordial of Shadows and Opposition - as she levitated, a dark goddess of beautiful betrayal.
Leo hummed, his own half-circle golden mark of a Twilight blazing to life as he focused his Essence on sharpening his senses. "Quick question - you already needed to have quickened your anima a bit to use the power of the Devil-Body. How did you..."
"Someone wanted me to make promises to their sweetheart supernaturally ironclad. I obliged," Camilla said with the less comforting comforting smile given her new fangs.
"You should have seen the look on the parents of the other one's face when their supposedly not property cemented an oath. They needed to be reminded who is the Exalted here."
"...I will also ask about that later," Leo said, sighing. "Once more, into the breach."
Therese nearly collapsed on the Ganglari, breathing heavily while trying not to collapse into an allergic fit in the dust kicked up in the impromptu arena. How did a reception hall gather so much dust so quickly.
This was the fist time she had fought other Exalted in a battle that wasn't a spar with her siblings, Jakob, Gunter, or Felicia, and one with actual stakes of life and death.
She wasn't a fan.
Part of that was the Ganglari itself - it was a fine daiklave, but Garon Julien Bethan evidently did not believe synergy between a type of Exalted and the magical material their swords were made of was critical when forging an artifact weapon. By all rights, it should be moonsilver, like the self-writing living ink of Brynhildr, if she wanted to use it to its peak potential. To add a level of disquiet, the material it was made of was obsidian-black soulsteel; while she appreciated now having a sword that could well be Siegfried's sibling and being more like her elder brother, Therese had always been...
nervous about soulsteel, and it only grew after she was fully initiated into the Ivory Circle of Necromancy and she developed a better sense of what it was - because it was just as much of an alloy as regular steel, but to activate the mystical properties of the death-iron ore, the other component needed to be the Essence of unquiet dead. Which is to say, most soulsteel artifacts had ghosts fused with them. It was easier and more efficient to find a willing ghost (and given how ghosts were already obsessive by fundamental dint of existence, it wasn't even hard to find one for any conceivable purpose, just time-consuming), and Gethamane itself had deposits of naturally active soulsteel due to Vodak's power spilling into the world, but now she couldn't help but look at Siegfried and wonder if it was named after who it used to be. Actually using the quiescent mind of someone to hit people with felt like wielding a corpse as a club, and it made her skin crawl far more than any maggot she had to brush off raw material.
For another, it was the purpose this fight was made for.
"...does there seem to be a problem, Theresia?" Garon said from his perch, frowning. "Finish the job."
Therese looked down at the two Hoshidan Dragon-Blooded; Rinkah was still trying to stand up using her tetsubo as a crutch, the stone around her crackling with heat as her Anima tried to reignite, while Kaze laid out spread-eagle in a puddle of swiftly freezing water.
"...they're helpless," Therese replied, confused. "There's no point - Ganglari has already demonstrated how capable it is. A non-resonant Exalted defeating two others after just attuning to it - it's performed well.""
"Yes.
Ganglari has." Garon's eyes turned hard. "I meant this as a test of more than the sword's strength, daughter."
More than...?
Her blood froze. "W...what?"
"We are soon to be at war with Hoshido," Iago Krastos Tazar cut in. "As soft as your heart is, sweet Theresia, it is not suited to the business of war. We will be required to kill humans, not barely intelligent colonies of mold, giant centipedes, or Heaven's misdemeanors. It is simply good to work on being able to kill
actual dangers."
"...The
nerve!", Xander hissed, and Therese couldn't disagree. Respectively, hruggha were voracious parasites that devoured sacred places to make more of themselves and could incubate their spores in human flesh, cthritae were maneaters who struck in swarms of dozens at a time and were prone to even more parasitoid habits, and forbidden gods were among those that Heaven had reason to not just execute for reasons that outweighed rectifying their transgressions; more minor divine criminals were bound in Heaven next to their co-workers, not in a mound somewhere.
"It's..." Therese gulped. "It's...it's not right..."
"Dear daughter," Garon began, a comforting tone creeping into his voice. "I am only doing this because you have chosen to walk the dark path of high magic. You can sense when the demise of others leaves behind enough regret to pull them out of Lethe and into the Underworld. If they do not return, then their souls are at peace, and you are guilty of little. If they do, then you can certainly show respect to Hoshido by helping put them to rest, no?"
"I..." Therese gulped, feeling more uncertain and scared than anything Kaze or Rinkah had been able throw at her, her backup, or her skeletons. "But..."
"Ugh. This is why I take such umbrage with this
ridiculous tradition of adoptees being functionally the same as the trueblood of the royal family," Iago scoffed. "It made sense before the founding of Windmire, when are ancestors had to work as a community to live and survive within Gethamane given the food concerns and the constant risk of attack from below. Now? Now we invite weaklings who don't have the skill of said ancestors into the highest bloodline in the land..."
...That
stung. Not the least because Therese didn't even remember her original family - seven years of her life was just...gone. She was happy with what she had now - but it was the kind of barb that hit a weak spot in Therese's soul.
Camilla's hand rushed to her axe, a mundane if well-crafted one she used mostly as an augment to her natural abilities. "Would you like to say that again?", she hissed through gritted teeth.
"Wait!" Elise Placide Bethan, youngest of Garon's children, stepped forward. "Uh-don't we get something to say about this!?"
"Elise, dear, this does not concern you," Garon replied, sounding more annoyed than anything else. "You are a healer by profession and nature. You are not required to-"
"Well, no, but for one, Wood Aspects are masters of poison and thorns, so I can't just heal," she interrupted. "But two...uh, isn't Therese going to be part of a team? So, if she doesn't stop one of us from finishing the job..."
Garon looked up, intrigued.
"...Elise, don't!", Therese interrupted. "If I have to do this, I don't want you-"
"She isn't", Leo said, striding forth. "I am. I am to send them beyond this world, do not interfere in their passage," he said, reaching for Brynhildr. "It is something you are good at."
For a moment, the pain worsened, as she thought it was a vicious strike on a path of magic she knew her younger brother had always disagreed with-
And then she saw the particular page he was opening to.
Brynhildr, also known as the Ever-Learning Tome, was made by the Rainbow Sage to be a tool for battle-sorcerers. This did not take the form of war thaumaturgy, witchcraft, or the other lesser forms of wizardry invented in the latter half of the Second Age as Exalted narrowed the gap between themselves and mortals. No, Brynhildr was a device that aided true sorcerers in particular - particularly by absorbing the magic of other sorcerers to protect its wielder in the form of spells on its unicorn-skin vellum pages (as no other animal was such a perfect combination of utter purity and utter malice for understanding the precise manipulations of Essence sorcery by absorbing it and then making it a spell within the book). However, during one especially bad incursion by Darkbrood, led by a knight of the Fair Folk that styled herself a champion of spiders, Leo lamented that true teleportation and manipulation of space was more advanced sorcery than he could perform at that moment, unable to free her prisoners easily. However,
necromancy was already something that drew on boundaries between planes, between life and death, meaning that a fairly basic spell of the shadowy path was to bore through the wall between living and dead worlds and create a gate to a safe spot in the Underworld from Creation. Something Therese had used to great effect in that battle, and then had encoded into Brynhildr for Leo's peace of mind.
It took a while and required some minor modification of a book that had been mostly meant to counter the sorcery that manipulated the
life of Creation, but the worst effect was turning a particular page an interesting shade of gray. The gray page Leo had turned to.
Thanking the Maidens of Fate that she was in her hybrid form - and thus, her part-linnorm face did not have as readable expressions - Therese sighed theatrically. "I...I understand. I will watch, without intervening."
And she did, expressionless, as black and bloody arms came from the ground and drew the two Hoshidans into a screaming vortex - it just so happened that said vortex was the barrier between living and undead voicing its protests at its temporary wound.
The feelings came back as soon as the group had left Garon's presence, Therese collapsing in relief. "Sweet Luna above...that was
terrifying."
"And exhilarating," Leo said, strutting proudly. "That was my first time ever using your bad copy of my art...wasn't so hard."
Elise slapped him with her staff. "Don't lie, big bro! You were nearly drawing blood with your grip until I reminded you of that little trick!"
"...I am going to strangle Iago someday," Camilla said, grimacing. "I'll bet anyone here a jade talent he was the one who suggested that...
test."
"Fortunately, nobody was permanently injured. Unfortunately, we need to retrieve them..." Xander turned towards his more death-inclined sister. "Do you need to rest, or...?"
"No. No, I put them in danger. I should rescue them as soon as I can," Therese said, spitting out a small signet ring of soulsteel - a very particular kind of soulsteel, as the spirit within it was in fact a small part of the adopted princess' own, having willingly spliced it off as part of her initiation rite into the secrets of the Ivory Circle. And a very useful ritual tool as well, as she clipped it on, ignoring the brief pain of the thorns on the inside drawing a small amount of blood. "Shall we? It'll be just like below Gethamane, only...bigger. And wetter. And thankfully, warmer."
And so the siblings began an impromptu adventure into the river-riddled world of the dead, to save enemies.
It would be the last bit of fun exploring unknown depths they would have for a while.
All wrong.
This is all wrong.
Variations of that phase had been echoing through Therese's head for a while.
The first was at that checkpoint in Lord's Crossing, her first mission from her father - and her first delve into the Blessed Isle. The environment - it was nothing like anything she had ever experienced. Windmire was warm compared to Gethamane, even before one got to its sorcerously-terraformed climate. But it was still
chilly; a Nohrian without a coat in any season but summer was insane, supernaturally resistant to cold, or both. It was just more of
an alpine chill.
The Blessed Isle? She initially thought she had somehow caught a fever on the way south, and this was the
cooler regions. She didn't remember the last time she had seen a week without at least a flurry of snow, or people willingly bathing in the open sea rather than heated baths or indoor pools. It was a shock, and it took her time to adjust; it wasn't unpleasant, and something about being in the water in human form felt nice.
Then she went to confront the Hoshidan outpost they had set up as close to the border as physically possible - and then Hans, that bald psychopath, attacked without warning, sending his jade axe flying through several nearby soldiers and destroying the bridge. (And some gaggle of gods thought
he was worth investing Exigence into!? He shouldn't be in the same
conceptual space as Exalted in general!)
So she had been forced to subdue the panicking soldiers - and then he cut the ropes of the bridge she was on, claiming he had his orders from the royal court.
Lilith, sweet Lilith had saved her - and her old stablehand revealed herself to have been a fairy. Not one of the Fair Folk, thank all the Celestial Incarnae and the Elemental Dragons both, but a bit of the Wyld that had absorbed the idea of "fish'' and "caretaking", and taken the form of a dragon-like fish holding a pearl in her hands. Also, that she was a "bird" that Therese had saved from freezing when she was watching a ghost called an ankou go about her day. (Ankou, also known as grim charioteers, were ghosts who pulled the recently risen and their bodies to the Underworld to start their new existences - given how they only minded people who tried to take ghosts and bodies from their cart, there were few better sources of information on recent tragedies and stories that would otherwise be forgotten.) Go figure.
And then she was knocked out by Rinkah and Kaze, but not as a hostage - to take her to the ruins of the Imperial City, and the heart of the Hoshidan Expedition, to meet her mother.
Because before she was Theresia Bethan, she was Karal Kamui Sanjo. Stepdaughter of the later King (or rather, Chumyo) Karal Sumeragi, and blood daughter of his widow, Karal
nee Katharo Mikoto. And the adoption was more of an
abduction.
Who had come to greet her directly with a hug.
Which wasn't unappreciated, as she needed one after...
that reveal.
But while some part of her subconscious recognized the Chumyo as her mother and accepted it, her...first stepsiblings, she supposed? First stepsiblings were almost entirely strangers who seemed far more familiar with her than she with them.
She didn't
dislike them (with one exception). Both Karal Ryoma Gotou and Karal Sakura Aoki were both kind and brave, albeit in rather different quantities for both. Karal Hinoka Amaya was someone who mostly reminded her pleasantly of Camilla, what with her spirited, hot-blooded, and caring personality...and somewhat unpleasantly, as she seemed to have Camilla's level of clinginess. Understandably, as Hinoka seemed to blame herself for Theresia being raised a Bethan rather than a Karal. And she was more high-strung than Camilla ever was, as shown by her...unique reaction Therese summoning help with taking down mindless undead that had wandered in from some idiot Nohrian's territory to harass Hoshidans.
(For the love of Moon and the Dusk Dragon, it was a
barrow hound. A big dog with red eyes. Only proof of its Underworld nature was being translucent. Therese thought they were
cute! And yet, the woman who confidently declared the shambling hulks of unliving muscle "good practice" reared back farther than her own pegasus when faced with a see-through canine. Hoshidans were strange.)
And Karal Takumi Ike? The Night Caste Solar and archer couldn't have made a worst first impression on Therese if he tried, and likely not even then without heroic effort. How were you supposed to
respond to "shouldn't you be going back to the Nohrian invaders soon,
sister?" As if the Hoshidan Expedition weren't also colonists. Ass.
And the
ticking. Therese wasn't unfamiliar with machines, of course; while Nohrians preferred thaumaturgy and hedge magic to clockwork and ironwork, Gethamane had a lovely system of elevators and security systems installed over the years, and Leo was quite fond of his pocket watch. But Hoshido? Hoshido seemed to be paid by the cog.
Gear-powered doors. Gear-powered waterways. Gear-powered fans. Gear-powered dolls that trotted from room to room in the rebuilt Imperial castle, doing menial labor. And they.
All.
Ticked.
How was
anyone capable of decent
sleep here!? Her Lunar hearing was better than most, but
come on!
About the only thing that was still familiar was Lilith, and now, Lilith was a fish. A giant, levitating fish with a face like a dragon's. She
tried to assume her human form again, but the stable girl just...couldn't. So that was an extra level of uncanny, to have the voice of someone who you recognized coming out of a fae.
And then there was the revelation of a
third Nohrian adopted sister (and fifth stepsister overall), a tit-for-tat hostage, she supposed. And Azura Sugawara Bethan was...in a class of her own.
Because while she didn't recognize her sister, her
Exaltation did.
It was honestly something she, even in her "harlequin romance is best romance" teenage years, found a little ridiculous. In the immediate aftermath of the Divine Revolution and overthrow of the Primordials, the Solars and Lunars nearly turned their weapons on each other in a war that might have well destroyed what was left of Creation due to it being an even match - Solars had their inherent access to Excellencies, but Lunars were shapeshifters and ideal spies beyond mere ability to enhance their natural skills. Solars did not have any magical material they were not suited to (orichalcum was favored, but that was because Solars found the gold of the sun easier to smith - once made into Artifacts, the full potential of any magical material could be coaxed forth by a Solar), but Lunars had more ability to make both new animal species and raise mortal followers into beastfolk. Solars had the power of holy fire on their side to burn less...acceptable allies of Lunars, but there were 400 Lunars (none of whom were creatures of darkness said holy fire burned more easily), and 300 Solars. That last one is what made the Solars sue for peace first, and result in a mostly fair deal for mutual peace; all 300 Solar Exaltations would be oathbound for eternity, across every future incarnation, to a single Lunar counterpart, a "soulmate" of sorts (that there was 100 mateless Lunars was the concession). Upon seeing each other, the two would recognize the other, and remember their Third Souls' shared history, and become an important person to the other.
Of course, said harlequin romance neglected to mention it wasn't fixed to love; that would have been miserable for all involved, for the simple fact it was political marriages that would be fixed across time. The only thing required was emotional importance and familiarity; one could be best friends, constant rivals, or worst enemies just as easily. That last one was part of the point - every Lunar and Solar (or Solar derivatives) both now had a potential perfect enemy. But Therese liked to think that she would have something a bit more congenial than a soul foe, even as she gradually resigned herself to never meeting hers (and Camilla was quite upset to discover her Exaltation was not Therese's counterpart), if she had one.
And then she overheard Azura, a Zenith Caste, walk into the garden as she sung. And at that moment, Theresia was no longer in the garden.
She was being fished out of a battlefield by a concerned commander, he glowing gold as her silver attempted to knit itself together.
She was a he, naked and basking in the glow of his equally nude princess as his monkey's tail curled around her bronzed leg affectionately.
She was a they, fighting back to back against the largest army of raksha they and their training partner had ever seen.
She was a he again, enticing a blushing young man to dance.
She was holding back tears as the moonsilver dagger sunk into the neck of a woman she had once respected and adored, now tarnished with the verdigris discoloring of someone who had sold most of their soul for power and security to the living Primordials, the Yozi Demon Kings.
And when Azura turned around, the confused recognition had hit her too.
It didn't stop her from thinking it was wrong though. Because as she spoke of her life before her being adopted by marriage into the Bethan royal household, of a country that didn't exist anymore, the Western island of Valla and its magnificent ships - Therese did not feel like she was reminded of how little she knew her sister (and cousin before that - apparently Queen Arete Ananke was Mikoto's own sister). She felt like she was catching up with an old friend.
As if everything was not already surreal enough. Not to mention how said harlequin romances would caste her in a nauseating light in Nohrian terms; any sibling relationship, inborn or not, were a deep level of incest. Cousins were fine(...ish), but a cousin that was also a sister? No. Just no. And yet she somehow suspected that there would be ten "genuine accounts of forbidden love" published by the end of the day the moment news of this got out.
But she thought she could stand it, and possibly contact Nohr after she settled in and confirm some...rather pertinent details about her parentage and history...and things seemed like they could calm down.
And then Ganglari was stolen by a cloaked figure who seemed only partly real, and found through Mikoto's back.
This is all wrong, and I'm not sure they will ever be right again.