Date: September 7, 2000 (Aether: January 22, 3907)
Place: Chamber of Stars - Delphic Citadel - Haven
Cast: Cassandra, Cassius
Scene: Having received a cryptic warning about some "danger from the north" from Delphi's Sibyl, Cassius visits the Citadel to discover what more he can learn about this prophecy.

From: Cassandra
Subject: IC Letter

A letter arrives, delivered by a hired messenger separate from Delphi, though the thick paper bears the Sibyl's personal mark. Within, the contents are brief and cryptic:

Danger arrives from the north, by way of the sea,

Though the nature is still unknown, it progresses most steadily.

Plaguing eyes that see beyond what can be seen, it has been witnessed most widespread. Take care for you and your own, until the storm has passed.

It is, quite simply, signed: Cassandra Eleni Adeera

Why this letter was sent, and why she would bother to see to Deus Augustin's well-being is left unexplained....

Chamber of Stars - Delphic Citadel - Haven:
      Located at the pinnacle of the tower, the ceiling of this chamber slopes inward like a pyramid. Furnishings are almost nonexistent, consisting of a few woven mats decorating the floor, covering parts of the mosaic extending wall-to-wall. Thousands of small, colored tiles illustrate a compass rose showing the four cardinal directions. The northern section is dark--like the mountains that stab at the horizon far beyond the walls of Haven. South is blue--like the vast ocean stretching away from Haven's harbor. Green represents the west, where a thick forest hems in the farmlands that produce food for the city; and finally, east is gold, where the wind blows fresh and warm in the summer months. It is not too far a stretch to say that the compass represents more than mere direction; for Delphi has always been a place where the four races could mingle freely, as equals.
      The walls are shaped from a stone that is almost as clear as quartz, so that one may glimpse the entire city. Starlight or sunlight shines above, depending upon the time of day, and students often make the long trek up here to study astronomy, or merely feast upon the view offered by a small balcony that overlooks the city.

So many colors that could be seen from this perspective, loftily above Haven, and yet much has submitted to a stark landscape of colorlessness. And still the snow falls, without a pause of mercy, thick white flecks fluttering down from the heavens. The chill lends a slight haze to the view, silver-grey fog settling over the inside of the clear stone to steal a fraction of the warmth within.

Across this surface so like glass, a myriad of patterns have been etched out with a fingertip. The 'culprit' of this absent artwork is at work, red-handed as it were, one finger from her webbed hand skimming along an untouched portion of the wall to trace a spiraling pattern that slightly resembles waves.

Cassandra seems intent in this task, as mindless as it may be, mouth tipped upward in a measure of mild mirth. So silent is she, so otherwise still is this chamber, that each fragment of a sound falls with potent resonance.

The first sounds that penetrate this crystal chamber are the distant flap of wings. Out of that snowy void, a shape descends, and it is only through skill, years of practice, and a touch of Tyche's own luck that the flyer doesn't miss the balcony and dash himself against Delphi's walls.

As it is, the landing is unsteady, prompted by an unfamiliarity with snow-laden wings and a pesky updraft that assailed him at just the wrong moment. The cloak the Empyrean wears is a flimsy garment against the weather.

After catching himself against the archway, the visitor straightens and hastily steps inside. Flakes drift from his ruffled wings, his shoulders, his hair, to drift to the tiled floor and melt into mere pinpricks of water. He's shivering, and the chattering of teeth is audible. It must have been a powerful curiosity indeed that drove Cassius out into this wintry vista to seek out the clairvoyant Sibyl who sent him such a cryptic message.

The snow storm's frosty breath is expelled through the chamber, stirring up the thick white cloak that has been donned in consideration of the room's temperature. Cassandra's slender finger finishes out the underbelly of the wave's pattern with a precise angling of her touch, before widened eyes tilt up towards the figure that has appeared in the archway.

"Ave, Deus," she states, Empyrean greeting and title used when having no racial leanings of her own. While the room is certainly warmer than the harsh elements out of doors, certain winds flowing inward keep the room from reaching inviting stages of warmth that are somehow otherwise maintained through tamer cool temperatures. The halfbreed's cheeks are ruddy with a healthy color, mouth discovering a smile to be donned.

A lingering study finds its way over Cassius as her lips slant lightly, and light is her declaration, "You are a frightful sight. Might you wish for something warm to drink? I would invite you to my office, but, well, I do not have one."

"No," he manages after a few moments. "I'll be... all right." As long as he stays clear of the archway and the bracing air radiating from it. With his silver-white feathers distinctly ruffled, the Augustin Deus crosses the chamber and tries to resist the urge to huddle beneath his cloak.

His cheeks, too, are flushed from the temperature outside, and from the exertion of his flight over. Silver hair, normally neatly combed, is tousled and damp from melting snowflakes, and a wayward lock slants haphazardly over his brow. He reaches up to brush it back as he approaches the halfbreed Sibyl and rests an inquisitive gaze upon her artwork. But that is not what eventually elicits comment. "I received your message," he says. Those pale eyes find hers, rife with curiosity. "Tell me what it means?"

Swirling patterns are the waves of an angry sea, spreading out along the line of Cassandra's direct gaze on either side of her. And above that barely coherent body of water are tiny winged figures that are intended to be birds. The halfbreed is no artist, so all of it may appear more abstract that it was intended.

"The storm," the Sibyl explains after studying the man before her with a regard that seems to look both at and through him at the same time. The tip of her finger dabs along the surface of the glass, a multitude of snowflake 'dots' spreading over the untouched foggy glass.

"The Seers have been dreaming of it and what it brings -- different eyes and minds seem to find different portions of what is to be." A stirring wind gives a flutter to her small wings and to the outer edges of the pale fabric that hangs across her forehead, touch withdrawing from the nearly transparent wall yet again.

"I wished to warn a few that I... know of it, for I fear that the more official channels may be too weighted down to act." Rue laces her tone, as delicate a brush as the snowflakes that touch to the outside of the tower before blown off. There is more, but she hesitates there, finding the tiniest of convenient distractions instead in unknotting the skein of silver tendrils that have fluttered across her eyes.

Her answers only raise more questions. Wintry blue eyes -- as pale as the icicles that hang from the eaves of the shops down in the Rialto -- narrow in thought and confusion, and Cassius turns to gaze at her picture, and at the swirling, drifting, endlessly falling snowflakes beyond its transparent quartz 'canvas.' "It is an uncanny winter, that is sure," he muses. "And one whose equal I've never seen in all my years at Haven. But isn't it... just a storm?"

His gaze shifts back to her, meeting the muted green of her eyes evenly. "What more do you see?"

A web of hair no longer in the way of Cassandra's line of sight, she is capable of meeting his gaze levelly again, with the slightest of tilts lifting her chin. "I have seen sights that make no more sense to me than they would likely mean to you in my poor retelling," she admits, mouth forming a brief and slanted grin before the warm alterations of her features subside to serenity, a calm within the storm.

"Others seem more literal, easy to make sense out of. Upon the water, a boat travels -- a vessel unlike any I have ever seen before. I see warring, the sights of Kronian and Pasiphae yet each is with... another in the seeing."

To the north, her gaze is drawn, without conscious thought supporting the shift of her attention. "It comes from the north, and nears rapidly. The winds of danger blow it along in an inevitable approach." Slim shoulders shift in a tremble that grasps her, perhaps from cold or some measure of fear at the unknown.

"When?" is Cassius's abrupt question. "When will this... 'danger' arrive? You say you see a boat. What kind? Does this have anything to do with the Varati rebellion? Or the mention of Pasiphae... is it the Atlanteans of whom we're to be wary?" A veritable barrage of questions, and he must realize she cannot answer them all, that they might be overwhelming. He takes a subtle step back, composing his wings more evenly now that he's no longer shivering, and the slight move is meant to signal that he's relenting. Somewhat.

"Who else knows?" he asks. "Did you tell the rest of the Aegis, or the Emperor?"

'When' is likely the most important question that could be asked about the nature of a vision and also the most difficult to answer -- when past, present, and future merge within the mind, time gradually becomes more challenging to read.

"During the storm, and... soon, I think," Cassandra manages in a tentative reply. "It was hard to see when, but I could feel this gnawing sense of danger coming closer and closer."

Silence sprawls out from there, memories attempted to be coordinated with the barrage of questions, leaving the silver-haired woman in a sea of distraction. "I have not informed the Empyre, though I have informed one of my Estrel. Between you and myself, Deus, I have witnessed little to convince me that much would be done with the knowledge."

A breath is taken, the remainder of Cassius' curiosity worked through as best as she is capable, "I do not know what sort of boat -- it was very long and foreign-seeming. Nothing I have ever witnessed in my visions or at Haven's docks. I... saw no Varati in the vision -- it was an Empyrean warring, though I could not see with who."

Cassius expels a sigh and reaches up to sweep his hands through his hair in frustration. It would be easy to discount vague words and warnings, but he knows better than that. This green-eyed, silver-haired halfbreed is the most powerful clairvoyant in Delphi, and her prophecies should not be taken lightly. "Then I will... warn the Aegis," he promises. "And the Emperor."

He glances up, brow beetling. "Is this danger intended solely for Haven? Or for all of the Empyre? How many stand to be touched by the dire encounter you've predicted?"

"I believe that it is... just here. I see the boat at the docks," Cassandra declares softly, more hesitation wringing her tone. "I do not know if the war that I saw was before or after the boat arrives, but I saw an... angry Empyrean, yet he looked so different from any other I had seen. He had a thick beard and wore furs, holding an axe over his head as he bellowed a cry. Beside the Kronian is a shadowed figure who releases ravens into the skies."

Eyes sweeping down to her toes and the colorful play of tiles upon the floor, the halfbreed admits, "Tonight, I saw more. It was tonight that I saw the boat land, that I saw men emerging from that foreign vessel -- Atlanteans and Empyreans, but they... were not. They were different. One of the Atlanteans saw me, and he... grabbed for me, as the dream subsided. I do not know if it was truly me, or some sign that they came to lay claim to some... one... something."

These words wring an intent, thoughtful, sober expression from the Aegian. He has so much less experience with magic; it is, in fact, something he distrusts in general, and perhaps some of that underlying apprehension can be glimpsed in his gaze. Clairvoyance is especially puzzling, and he cannot help but take her words as literal, given his unfamiliarity with the surrealism and symbolism of visions.

"Perhaps the other Aegians or the Emperor might make sense of that," he murmurs, half to himself. "I will inform them of all you have told me. And I... appreciate your warning. Although..." His brows furrow as his curiosity grows, "I must confess, I am led to wonder why you singled me out, domina." Despite the grim seriousness of her vision and this discussion, his lips tilt faintly upwards at the corners. "Did a dream tell you to do so?"

Cassius' smile seems infectious, encouraging one of her own to sneak into view. The halfbreed's breath is released around a warm chuckle, humor replacing the dark tinges of fear as her eyes draw upward once again. "Perhaps it did, Deus," she remarks lightly, teeth brushing at her lower lip as the answer to this is considered. "There are some notions that are more felt than seen within a dream, be it a premonition or no. Danger, fear, are often two of the most compelling emotions to be found within."

Fingers lift from her sides, knotting against each other near her midsection, knotting until the webbing is taut. "I know that danger is coming, without needing to see blood staining the snow of Haven's streets. I knew that I needed to tell you without requiring the sight of harm befalling you or one of your relations. Does that many any sense, Deus? Perhaps that warning in and of itself prevents whatever unease has knotted my stomach, or perhaps it is inevitable." The smile twists grim as she adds firmly, "In either event, we shall see."

"Yes," Cassius answers with a soft sigh. "So we shall." The future is suddenly looking a little less brighter, even discounting that swirling maelstrom of neverending snow, but at least he's been given a warning. That is something to weigh against the unknown.

With a formal tip of his head, the Deus murmurs, "Thank you, Sibyl, for bringing this to my attention. I shall do my best to see that my peers are warned as well. And hopefully we can stand ready to face whatever disaster looms on the horizon." And with that, his nod deepens into a partial bow before the Aegian makes his farewell. "Vale, domina. May Tyche favor us all... and may your visions always be clear."

Something in the Deus' statement seems to wipe away the grimness of Cassandra's exterior again -- it has been quite a day, and despite the trials and new, troubling vision, there is a buoyancy to her mood that cannot be forgotten for long.

"May my visions begin to become clear, Deus," the halfbreed remarks wryly, with a formal incline of her own head. But then the casual ease is set aside for a more distant politeness, mouth tipping up with the faintest of smiles. "And... thank you, for seeing the visions worth... something of import. They had... begun not to seem that way any longer."

"Take care of yourself, Deus, mm?" the woman finishes gently, though if there is something beyond politeness that inspires that last nudging of concern, she does not speak of it. Instead, a shiver trembles through her in the cold remembered, sending her fleeing for the warm haven of her chamber as Cassius is again forced to brave the elements...

...bearing the weight of heavy snow and troubling news.

FIN  

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