@Lish @Vague o3
Revan and Glumisun walked along their usual route in the evening, right before the sun began to set over the valley. The mountains were so high here that evening came early, and they enjoyed the brisk climate by walking.
While they walked, they talked about many things. They talked about their parents, how gloriously ironic it was that they were both killed in the same incident. They talked of Revan’s early training and how it shaped him. They talked about Glumisun’s Instrument and experiences and how they shaped her, and sometimes they talked about back ‘home’, how it would be nice to see all those people again, how they could mess with Avaddon again, roll their eyes at Kasdeya.
They always said they would do it soon, but it became an unspoken joke that they never actually could work up the courage to leave this life they had found for themselves, a life where Glumisun wouldn’t have to handle being a leader, and where Revan wouldn’t have to deal with the looming consequences of what he had done.
Like they did every day before starting the trek back to the cottage, they visited the Caretaker.
Glumisun found the Caretaker very interesting. She often would ask him of her parents, stories she never got to hear, or about the human world. When Revan asked her why she did this, she expressed to him how she wished to understand them, even though they were her enemies. Revan expressed that he thought that was very wise of her.
This time, however, Glumisun came to the Caretaker with a different question, another question that she didn’t get to have the answer to - this time she had brought chaos’ song.
Glumisun’s teacher had never explained the history behind chaos’ song, and she guessed it was because he never knew. Glumisun was curious, and besides, knowing the history of the weapon might let her understand it more.
“Greetings,” The Caretaker said to the both of them as they walked inside of the Sanctuary.
“Hi,” Glumisun said.
The Caretaker looked at Glumisun, freezing her with those eyes that looked like a kaleidoscope of molten gold. Glumisun had a theory that they glowed, but was never able to test this out, and the Caretaker was extremely secretive about what exactly he was.
Something struck her in that moment - his eyes… were a lot like Revan’s. Minus the gold part, of course, but… wow.
“What questions do you have for me today, Islingr?”
Once Glumisun could move again, she handed him Chaos’ Song. “I was wondering…” she said, working up her courage, “If you could tell me more about this?”
The Caretaker accepted the weapon, the instrument, and examined it, the silver designs, running his hand across the neck of the instrument and down the body, inspecting every inch of the weapon, every curve, every line, every edge.
Soon, he had finished examining the outside of the weapon and reached his hands toward the strings. Glumisun started to protest, but the Caretaker lifted up a hand and smiled at her.
“I know what I’m doing, Skullblaka’nein.”
Glumisun paused, then fell silent, her worries obviously not assuaged; but allowed the Caretaker to play the instrument.
The Caretaker lifted up his hands to pluck the strings and - like everyone else - his hand came away cut, much to the shock of Revan and Glumisun.
The Caretaker looked at the weapon, and then looked at his hand, appearing perplexed.
“Hm,” the Caretaker said. “Interesting…”
“What?” Glumisun asked, urgently. “What is interesting?”
The Caretaker thought for a moment, and then spoke. “As you well know, Islingr, demons and humans alike don’t really have the magical power to express their power through sheer will, and so, they need a focusing point.” the Caretaker looked at Revan. “As you well know.”
“What’s interesting to me is that as soon as I channeled power into Chaos’ Song, it rejected me. I could have forced it to bend to my will, but that would have broken the object.” The Caretaker cocked his head. “It also seems to be a weapon made to kill people like me.”
“How - is that possible?” Revan asked.
“It is possible to banish me from this plane, yes, but I would still survive. This weapon seems to have been made to kill someone like me, but… not me. Someone else.”
“Hang on - “ Revan said, bewildered. “There are others like you?”
The Caretaker paused. “Yes, there are. Three others I know of, in fact. They are called ‘Shards’. One of them, who is but a violent monster of chaos, seems to be what this weapon was made to kill. Whether it would work…? That I do not know. It is nevertheless an evil deed to do such a thing, and for that reason I am glad it is in your hands, Islingr.”
The Caretaker paused.
“It seems that this weapon has gone through great pain. Take good care of it, Islingr, so that it never has to go through such pain again.”
Glumisun accepted this, and the weapon, without complaint, and looked at the weapon now with newfound awe. “It chose me,” she said, simply. Her view had always been that she had chosen it, but she had a newfound understanding of the instrument now.
“So - “ the Caretaker began, “I presume you wish to know more about the history of this object, the-”
The Caretaker stopped and cocked his head, as if listening.
“Do you feel it also, Sundavr’blaka?”
Revan was perplexed. “No - what are you talking about?”
The Caretaker looked at him, as if disappointed. “Send your birds to the northern edge of the city. Quickly, now!”
Revan nodded his head and obeyed, sending Huginn to the spot the Caretaker requested. Revan sighed as Huginn arrived back and whispered to him. “Vrenshrrgn, Vrenshrrgn,” The bird whispered, and Revan sighed.
“What - what’s Vrenshrrgn? What’s a War Wolf?”
Revan bowed his head and placed his hands on either side of his nose, thinking.
The Caretaker answered her. “It’s the Old Word name for Human.”