Bough -- Logs

Clearly, it's been this way for ages, such that it's just accepted. But while the exterior of the Basilica is slightly run down, the interior is pristine, even with the cloak of night shutting out all light, the pitter-patter of rain upon the dome and eaves. The interior is gigantic and echoing, but what can be seen with little flickers of light from oil lamps and tallow candles here and there is that the entire interior is a work of art. Soaring columns reach up to the vaulted cieling and the titanic dome; fifteen-foot-tall statues have been carved to deceive the eye into thinking the interior is smaller than it is. And at the crux of the basilica is the high altar. Four spiral pillars reach up to a darkly-glitering canopy of brass, decorated with angels -- the six-winged variety, rather than the two-winged that one would somehow expect here -- and arch over a simple white altar with a sextet of candles and a simple cross upon it. A very faint light emanates from the altar area.

The doorkeeper priest is complaining still, "I demand you tell me what the meaning of this is! This... this is highly irreglar!"

Mikal says, "You will direct us to the labyrinth, gatekeeper."

Norris gives Mikal a wide berth, leaving the priest to Inanna and Jareth for the moment as he moves deeper into the Basilica, seeking what secrets the place has to give. He admires the structure for a moment, appreciating it's beauty without condoning the actions of the one it idolizes. Travelling to the heart of the Basillica, he opens himself to this ancient structure, letting the feeling of the place fill him, and touches the floor around the altar, speaking to the spirits of this structure, to see if they can show him the way down.

Jareth smiles as he steps forward, nearer the priest, "We're looking for the entrance to the labyrinth."

There's no use dissembling, so Jareth decides simply to rely on his charm.

The priest's jaw drops as he looks between Mikal-as-Inanna and Jareth. "What..? I... no, I can't! I mustn't! Not even for.. for a go-- for whatever you are!" He no longer sounds defiant, however; instead he sounds intimidated.

To Norris, the Basilica is oddly familiar, something calling to a prior life of his perhaps. But the Basilica opens up to him, at least the surface of it. In front of the canopied altar, sunk ten feet into the ground, is a pit or depression. There is no direct way into it, as it has stone tables surrounding it with various gold vessels of varying types and shapes, aaprently for the sacraments. Down there, in a small doorway that looks sealed shut from here, leading directly to beneath the altar, is where the entrance to the labyrinth lies.

Mikal stands in the center of the Basilica, haloed in the silvery light from the altar as she turns slowly to look around her. Finally her flashing gaze settles on the doorman, and she chants -- nearly sings -- to him, her voice low and sweet and mesmerizing, "I am Inanna, Star of the Morning. I am Inanna Star of the Evening. I am Inanna who descends to the Underworld. Unbar the way, gatekeeper!" As she sings, she reaches out to touch the old priest's heart, willing him to hear her deep in his soul -- and to help them in their quest.

Jareth smiles gently to the priest. He can understand the nervousness and the awe. One hand reaches out to touch the priest on the cheek, "We mean you no harm. Nor harm to this place."

The priest makes a tiny sound, jaw dropping to his chest, so overwhelmed by Mikal's pronouncement that he completely forgets Jareth is there. He collapses to his knees, staring. "In... Inanna?!" he gasps. "No... no, no no nonono, this is not the place for you! You should not be here, your temple is far more ancient than this!" He squeeks and shies away a little. "The altar! Under the altar! The path you seek is under the altar!" At Jareth's touch, he shudders, looking to the young man. "What is going on?" he asks plaintively. "I don't understand!" His eyes widen. "The Guard. They approach, they'll be here soon!"

Jareth furrows his brows, "What Guard?"

Jareth says, "The city Guard?"

The preist gasps out, taking Jareth's hand. "No no no, the Church's Guard! They who protect the Basilica! They are not angelic, they are mortal, tied to this place...."

From far off in the darkness, perhaps in an adjoining building or corridor, there is the distant sound of marching feet, and c

Mikal smiles gently at the priest, "Just go tell them there is nothing to be concerned about. It was a false alarm. We bear this little building no ill will."

Jareth smiles over at Mikal, "She tells the truth." He pauses and then says, "There was the other angel..."

From far off in the darkness, perhaps in an adjoining building or corridor, there is the distant sound of marching feet, all in lockstep, and the faint clanging of arms carried.

Mikal says, "He is still at the party. The city was aiding us, after all." She glances over at Norris, adding, "Do you need assistance, brother?"

Jareth can't help but smile fondly at that, "Of course. She remembers me well. All she needed was a little whisper of reminder."

Norris's brow knits as he hears the marching feet. He does not look forward to the idea of fighting with these folks. He could just move all these items carefully, but that will take time. he could move them hastily, but that would be disrespect...and that might not be wise in the Architect's temple, regardless of how he actually feels. So instead, he reaches inside, and tries to find a different answer. As he stands firm, he feels his legs ache as the muscle and bone and sinew changes...his hair goes blonde, and his face grows a well-trimmed beard as his face gets older, more lined, tough with age and work. His hands clench, and then he spreads his fingers out wide. "Not yet, Queen of Heaven." says Hephaestus, his eyes opening with the heat of the earth shining forth, trying to shape this place to his will.

The priest gapes up at Mikal, making a tiny sound again. "'The hairs on your arm will stand up,'" he says softly, as if quoting, "'At the terror in each sip and in each sup....' No... no I ill do it, I'm f-f-fine. I.. I will try." He stands, scrambling to his feet with surprising agility, and moving, quickly and terrified, to the side-chapel from which the loudest sounds of approaching troops is coming from.

Mikal murmurs after the scurrying priest, her eyes closed as she focuses hard on the old lilting prose, "Blessings on you, old man of heart. Blessings on you, gatekeeper; courage in your endeavor. Blessings on you, Neti; Heaven smiles on your endeavor."

There is a faint rumbling from the low stone table or rim or fence that surrounds the central pit. While facing the altar, a portion of the low stone tables that is furthest from it creak loudly and split apart. There is immense resistance that Norris/Hephaestus feels working against him, and the most that he is able to get open is enough for one person at a time to pass through. It's like there is a real-world counterpart to the Basilica that is anchoring this Dreaming edifice, and it is resistant to being changed.

Inanna glances over with warm affection at Hephaestus, calling to him, "My brother, my lover, I have missed you! It is a joy to see you here before us once more."

Jareth smiles at Hephaestus as well and moves toward the altar.

Norris's warmed by Inanna's words, but his brow is tensed, and it seems even a god with the blood of molten earth can sweat, his body taut like a bowstring. "Give me your felicitations later, Inanna, please...this is harder than I had realized. Both of you must pass through, quickly!" he says through gritted teeth.

Inanna nods, reacting at once -- she grabs Jareth's hand, murmuring, "Hurry, please, love," and glances over her shoulder, waving Raphael and the burro ahead of them both. There's a tiny clatter of hooves as the burro trots across the stone floor, following the big raptor wolf.

Jareth lets himself be dragged along, feeling strangely excited about this.

In the darkness, the marching halts, and there is the sound of the priest speaking quickly, his words not clear at this distance. Then there is a brief cry, ending in the unmistakable sound of steel piercing flesh and bone. The marching resumes, and now from one of the side chapels there is a faint, flickering light, and shadows cast as if by a multitude of soldiers.

Jareth's eyes flare for a moment and he pulls against Mikal. Another senseless death.

Hephaestus tries to keep himself centered...and hearing that sound, that sound that is unmistakable, it breaks his calm for a moment, the changed world shuddering around his pack...but he holds it firm.

There is the glimpse of glowing golden eyes from the chapel, and then the Guard are visible. Their clothing looks perhaps a bit to laugh at, gold and purple pantaloons and doublets, berets topped with feathers, white gloves and spats. But the poleaxes they carry are quite intimidating; the blood on that of the lead's poleaxe underlines that. But what is perhaps most disturbing is that they move mechanically, expressionlessly... and all with gold-glowing eyes. They are mortal dreamers, that much is clear, but they act more like automatons.

Norris, seeing that the others are through, must keep his back to the guard, focused entirely on what he's doing. As he steps forward, he tries to relax his will a piece at a time, letting the Basilicia flow back into place behind him. In another time, another place, this might have been easier. But now, he must see what he's doing, and trust that he crafted well, and his armor will protect him from any shots at his back.

Inanna's eyes flash with anger, but she doesn't stop -- she pulls Jareth along more closely, following the burro and the raptor wolf into the pit before the door into the catacombs. As soon as they're inside she pushes Jareth on, "Go! Open that door and get the burro in, lover, then find something in the pack we can use to help Hephaestus brace the door closed from the inside!" She turns, drawing her bow and several arrows. To Papaios she murmurs, "Tell me: is there an arrow we can fire to snap these men out of their dreaming indenture?"

Jareth turns to the door and tries to open it. He murmurs to himself, "Please let this be easy."

The door is small, and it would require some squeezing to get the burro in, but Jareth seems somehow able to get the door open -- he isn't entirely sure how, since the lock is actualy pretty damn complex, if antiquated. Nevertheless, it opened. Fortunate timing, as well; the first of the Guards are warily making their way down, poleaxes pointed at the interlopers. THe glow from their eyes is bright but not dazzling, and as the guards approach the light starts taking on a reddish tinge.

Papaios seems to think on it for a moment, then replies, "If there is, I do not know how to craft it. I do not think it would work, however; they seem to want to be in this state."

Jareth puts his shoulder to the burro's rump and shoves it into the door, hurrying after it and starting to rummage through the packs.

Inanna nods a bit sadly at the bow's reply, "So I feared." She calls, "Hephaestus! Are our brothers through the doorway yet? I do not wish to harm any of the puppetted zealots, but I will not allow them to stop us."

The burro brays in complaint but does get through the door, Jareth following closely behind.

The smith god can sense Jareth's escape, even though he cannot see it, his face red with exertion. It feels like he's been walking for miles, the mortar and stone and all of it closing behind him too, too slow. "They're through. " he says through gritted teeth.

Inanna laughs, then smiles, "Wolf was leading the burro, my warrior smith. Close the pit entryway swiftly, if you can!"

Hephaestus swallows. "Do the best I can." He's almost to Inanna, just a few more steps...

Inanna waits silently as Hephaestus approaches, her arrow nocked but Papaios still lowered. She smiles encouragingly at him, then looks over his shoulder towards the possessed soldiers trotting their way. She draws a deep breath, straightening, then shouts, "Do not go gentle into this dreadful light! Wise men at their end know dark is right -- rage, rage against possession by the light!"

There is an almost palpable sense of something, emanating from the two closest Guards that Mikal-Inanna has cast the Ward upon. The change in the guards is immediate, as if they are coming into focus. Gone is the re-tinged golden glow and the blank expressions. The guards are young men, one with a pair of spectacles, with gleaming silver breastplates over their immaculate gold and purple clothing; the poleaxes are gleaming steel and white pine, and the elaborate hats bear the Phi-Chi and thee-keys crest of the Vatican. They blinks, confusedly, before one mutters, "Wh-what...?" and then, in a trick of the light, as if a blind spot suddenly appeared where they stand, the two guards disappear... waking up.

The slight, goddess-ridden woman pauses a moment, watching the confusion her words have spread -- then smiles faintly. "So that's modern prose. Hm... I think I like it."

Jareth pulls a shovel from the burro's pack and makes a small sound of triumph, that he immediately regrets.

The 'blind-spot' effect spreads out quickly, as the guards who were behind the two closest appear to be caught in it, become 'normal' Vatican Swiss Guards, and look confused for a moment before they wake up.

Just a few hundred yards from the Piazza, in the Guards barracks. It is 3AM, well before the daily watch is supposed to be set. The score of guards sleeping in their platoon's room are all sleeping soundly. But then the sound changes, snorts and twitches and grumblings. Two sit upright quickly, blinking, seeing immediately that the other is awake... and then the restlessness grows, and in short order, one platoon of Swiss Guards is more or less awake, grumbling and wondering what it was that woke them from a deep sleep.....

The front of the guards' advance is blunted; but the footsteps echoing through the nave tell that more Guards are on their way and will be here shortly. Mikal-Inanna has, at least, given them enough time to secure the doorway more fully from the other side.

Inanna laughs aloud with delight, tucking away her bow and lightly slapping Hephaestus' shoulder. "Come! We have a moment now to make the way more secure against them -- you've done excellently, dear one!"

Jareth is waiting with the shovel. He certainly didn't want to bar the way against his beloved family.

Hephaestus exhales as he relaxes fully, and they dissapear behind worked stone, as if the hole never was. He looks at Innana, pleased, and gripping her forearm in a greeting of sorts, one comrade to another. "It is good be awake and of service, warrior-sister. But come, we have no time to waste."

Inanna beams delightedly at Hephaestus, then flicks swiftly as a flame through the doorway -- where she beams at Jareth too. "We have a moment now! Go ahead and close the way; I need a moment." She steps out of the way of her companions, then raises her hands in prayer, softly chanting a blessing upon the poor old man.

Jareth nods and steps forward to use the shovel to wedge the door closed. This isn't his forte, but he has had to get through barred doors from the other side before, so he tries to reverse that knowledge into the best way to keep one closed.

The smith god ducks his head into the passage beyond, the big man - bigger, now that he's given over to the divinity inside - stepping aside for Jareth, and then working with him to try and bar the door.

Shortly, then, the group is through the small door in the Confessio, it is closed with a thud and Jareth uses a shovel that was in the burro's pack to secure it from this side.

And that's when they discover just what the area they are in is. It is an ossuary.

Bones litter the ground, almost haphazardly, and skulls as well. It is dim here, the only light being a few faint candles here and there. Directly underneath where the altar would be, is a plain and simple sarcophagus... and in the wall opposite the entrance to the ossuary, is a crevasse in the wall, through which the faint, mournful howling of distant wind passing through countless leagues of caverns can be heard,

Hephaestus tenses when he smells what's in the air, and his face looks grim when he turns to look, and sees what this place is. This place is death, the antithesis of what he is, and it disturbs him. He clutches at Jareth's shoulder, trying to refind his calm.

Jareth blinks at the sudden tension in Haphaestus' grip and he turns to the smith-god, laying his smaller hand over the larger one, "I'm here. We're here."

Inanna finishes her prayer for the old man's soul, then moves over to the burro and pulls out several hooded lanterns. As she settles to the ground to carefully light each one, she also sings a short thanks to the mujahedeen for doing precisely as asked. Warm golden light starts to fill the room, and she carefully ties one of the lanterns to the top of the little donkey's pack. After that she turns around with a lantern in each hand for her bipedal companions, a smile on her face, "Here you go, dear ones -- now we can see." She tilts her head curiously when she sees Hephaestus' discomfort, "What is it that afrights you?"

Inside, the smith knows it's not that clear cut...just like Inanna, there is something of both life and death in him. The volcano is as much a destroyer and a thing of renewal and creation. But he takes heart in Jareth's touch nonetheless. "It is an ugly echo of things remembered, Inanna, but it will pass. I will be well." he assures.

Inanna smiles reassuringly, stepping over so the huge man is flanked by her and Jareth. She sets his lantern into his hand, then stands on tiptoe to gently pat his chest and try to give him a kiss on the cheek.

Hephaestus puts his hand over the goddess's, and when she kisses him, there is a ripple. It's as though her very presence has reminded him of something, and that memory is linked to a dozen other moments throughout the river of reality. And a moment in his past that ached at his heart and made him doubt and hate himself is somehow...reforged. "You saved me." he murmurs. "You helped me save myself." he amends, and it is clear he's speaking to both of them.

Jareth mirrors the kiss on the other side, "We have all saved one another."

Inanna nods quietly, "Indeed." Her eyes glow for a moment with the intensity of her smile -- then she adds firmly, "We must away! Come, my dears -- we are for the labyrinth."

Hephaestus nods eagerly, hope swelling in his heart even at the ugliness that might await them below. "As you say."

Inanna hands the second hooded lantern to Jareth, then turns and strides swiftly to pick up the last one. She steps to the front, leading the way with her bow out. Behind her she puts Jareth and Raphael with the burro, with Hephaestus keeping their rear safe.

Jareth pauses just long enough to squeeze Hephaestus' hand again before falling in behind Inanna, hand resting on the burro's neck as he walks.

The crevasse leads downward; at first it is not a real path, but rather a rough slope. After some time, however, vague hints of steps can be made out. At this point, the crevasse starts to become slightly hewn-looking. Someone worked to make this -- barely -- passable.

Norris realizes, in retrospect, maybe he should have tried to make the door barred a little more thoroughly, but channelling so much power took a lot out of him. Besides, the people after them are only mortal, not angels. Surely they will not be super-strong. The door will hold long enough.

Inanna paces with careful confidence down the path, her keen-eyed gaze flashing back and forth and a slightly wry smile on her lips. This reminds her rather powerfully of the last time she was in the Underworld. She makes a mental note not to fall prey to the sin of hubris again this time! ...although she did emerge last time with the powerful Gaze of Life and Death. She considers for a moment -- then grins ruefully at herself and shakes her head firmly once. Hubris, hubris to believe she will or should gain it just from this little visit to the shabby temple of a penny-ante upstart later bully who made good as a deity!

Inanna pauses for a moment, her gaze thoughtful as she studies the path. Interesting... behind them all the path splits. The way they did not come down is very cunningly hidden and concealed -- to most people it would look like there was no fork in the path whatsoever. She smiles -- excellent. This means they will not have to go back through the little basilica again. Not only was it rather offensively decorated, but she'd prefer not to have to kill the duped.

The path descends, sometimes steeply, sometimes shallowly. Usually it is confined to a narrow crevasse-path, but sometimes one wall just drops away into the depths. It is at these points that the path is more strongly hewn.

Finally, though, the long walk has borne fruit. They round a bend in the tunnel, and it opens up onto a sort of broad stone platform that hangs out into a vast cavern. Far above can be seen the heavy roots of Mount Zion. The path continues on on the opposite side of the platform. But on the side of the platform which is against the stone wall, there is a massive worked bas relief.

It is large, thirty feet high, flanked by doric columns. The majority of the bas relief is rectangular, and along the periphery of the rectanglar space are seven large, heavy lead inlays, each one marked with the Phi-Chi crest of Mount Zion. The bas relief itself is fascinating, though.

One plus four horsemen ride upon it, but they are not the horriffic monsters that one would expect. Indeed, the bas relief seems to be of a style that predates most of Christianity. The fifth rider -- Death, with Hell following behind -- looks to be Azrael. The fourth and third -- Pestilence and War -- are rather indistinct. The second is haughty and proud and bears a massive sword. But the first rider, the Conquorer, is done in amazing, gorgeous detail. Clad in Levantine armor, astride a horse with thunderclouds and lightning surmounting his head, with a crown with a curious crest upon it that seems familiar, and bearing a Canaanite bow. The horse is clearly spirited, and the person in its saddle carries himself with grace and power, terrible for a mortal to behold. If those who interpreted John of Patmos were correct, then this handsome conquorer would be the Antichrist.

And... he looks somehow familiar.

Inanna tilts her head thoughtfully, studying the stonework. Her voice is musing, "Is that... poor Baal?"

Hephaestus looks at the artwork with bemusement...Azrael is behind this door? How is that possible? His eyes move to the other riders, and then to the last, and his brow knits at what he sees, bemused by the idea that he would somehow know the horseman of Famine...or is he actually something else. "I don't..know?" he comments in response to Inanna.

Jareth tips his head to the side and reaches up as if to touch the carving, "This is the door..."

Norris's eyes widen, then. "It is. It is he. I remember now...he was at the last meeting at Polaris."

On close inspection, with Mikal-Inanna;s words, recognition leaps out from the bas relief: It is indeed Baal Hadad.

And at that moment there is a hollow, distant thud from deep behind the bas-relief, and what sounds like an inhumanly, and yet very human, roar of rage.

Hephaestus takes a step back, hand to the hilt of his rakshasa mace. "Jareth, please step away...." he urges.

Inanna also reaches out to gently brush her fingers across the stone, murmuring softly, "Poor fellow. To be remembered so shabbily by... his..." Her voice trails off as she thinks furiously for a few seconds -- then she says in mounting fascination, "Could he... could the Architect have actually imprisoned his son here?!" She looks up at the roar, then grins wickedly, her eyes flashing again in the flickering lamplight, "Let's find out!" She starts searching for a way to open the wall, murmuring to herself, "Seals, seals... there should be seven, no?" She adds without looking away from her search, "Which of you has the louder voice? Call out to him!"

Jareth stares at Mikal. He measures his words carefully, "Beloved... didn't we come down here to stop that from happening?"

Norris uhs at Mikal's urgency. "Wait, wait...shouldn't we figure out what exactly is behind there before doing the angel's work for them?" he adds in agreement with Jareth.

The seven lead seals surrounding the bas-relief appear to be the seals that had been talked about, each one with the Phi-Chi of Christendom. They appear to be simple circular, somehow poured into place (on a vertical wall...) and then the elegant crest pressed in before they hardened. On closer inspection, it looks as if the entire bas relief is in fact a panel that could come away if the seals were broken.

Mikal grins over her shoulder at Jareth, "No, don't you remember? The words were..." She pauses and straightens, thinking for a moment, then raises a finger, "Go quietly unto Babylon, should we not return, and go unto its depths, yea, as deep beneath the city as the Perfumed Quarter is deep in vice, and find the vault with seven seals and marked with the sign of the LORD. If it is indeed there, deep beneath the city of the harlot, return here with knowledge of it, and Michael shall storm the city, that city of iniquity that is a blight upon this holy mount, and break the seals therein." She smiles, "So doesn't it sound to you like he wants to destroy what's here? That they locked it away to forget it if possible?"

Norris points at the seals. "Breaking them would open the portal, here. If they wanted whatever it is kept inside, Inanna, they would *not* break the seals. They would mortar it up, or even merely collapse the tunnel leading to this place."

Jareth purses his lips slightly and then raises his voice, using the Voice, "Baal? Is it you that rages behind the seals?"

Inanna smiles at Hephaestus, "What if it cannot be stopped so? Why would they send the Warrior of Heaven here, if not to finally slay it?"

She grins delightedly at Jareth's call, hastily hushing and putting a finger to her lips as she glances back to Hephaestus, her eyes shining with excitement.

Norris opens his mouth...and then closes it. If they wanted merely to break the seals and release what is inside, that would not require Michael. The would not even require a siege. The angels they sent this very day could do it.

There is nothing for a few moments, but then there is that inchoate roar again, and another hollow thud against the bas-relief/cover. While the voice made no coherent reply, Lilith/Jareth can tell that the voice is that of Hadad.

Inanna looks concerned at that, glancing at Jareth. Her voice is low, "Could the poor man be mad by now?"

The Smith God looks worried. "Maybe releasing him is still not wise. He sounds...not himself. He may have lost his mind." he agrees.

Hephaestus says, "Calming a mortal is one thing. Calming Baal? I'm not sure I'm....up to that yet."

Jareth feels compassion flare in himself and Lilith seeps to the surface. The blond hair starts to darken to the goddess' blue-black and his skin begins to darken as hands reach up to touch the carvings. The transition is slow, but she knows that Baal will not know the boy. "Baal... stepson... shhh... soft..."

Norris's brow quirks. Lilith. Of course. She could...she has the connection. She might reach him.

Inanna's eyes narrow in thought -- then she straightens firmly, "Well, we'll just have to help him recover then! No one deserves such treatment." She nods in approval as Jareth's appearance starts to change, stepping back to give hir room. She frowns as she concentrates. What can she do to help?

The clothes Jareth was wearing don't change, and that doesn't even give Lilith pause. Bare breasts are not shocking to her and she leans her upper body against the stone, putting her ear against it, breath held as she awaits a reply.

Norris looks at Inanna. "Papiaos may be needed. If the seals are not normal...my mace is mighty, but not enchanted. Let me see what these seals are made of."

Inanna rests a hand lightly on the big man's arm, "Soft, my friend. Let Lilith do her best -- if the seals have held this long they will hold a few moments more."

Norris shakes his head, lowing his voice. "That is not what I meant. If we truly mean to free him, then maybe your weakness-finding weapon will be needful, and my strength alone will not be enough." the smith explains.

Inanna smiles up at Hephaestus, "We shall see. It is entirely possible the seals are magical, and simply breaking the sigil will shatter them, after all." She glances around, noticing the tunnel leads on deeper into the cavern, and murmurs, "Raphael, would you listen for possible approach, please?"

The roaring subsides a little, taking pause. If Jareth-Lilith can strain to hear, far behind the bas relief -- it must be at least a meter thick -- she thinks she can hear a voice, raised in questioning. If she recognized Hadad's voice, perhaps he recognized hers.

Lilith bites her bottom lip and her hand moves without her even knowing it to rest on the carving of her stepson, "Baal Hadad... do you know me?" She reaches out, questing to reach the tortured being's heart.

She feels a surge of mixed emotions; joy at finding her lost stepson, horror at what he has become, and fear for what she can feel will happen if he's released. She swallows hard and uses the Voice again, words gentle, "Sweet child, shhh... shhh..." She is stroking the arm of Baal's representation on the carving. To her companions, she says, "He is quite mad... and he must not be released unless we can soothe him. His angry, and he will lash out if we let him out."

Inanna nods and gestures for Lilith to continue. She watches silently, praying to lend her strength and belief to Lilith's.

Norris just stands back and hopes for the best from Lilith's effort to sooth the depairing, raging Baal.

As Inanna prays she also reaches out with her mind. She whispers of love, of caring companions, of reassurance and growing calm. She whispers Friend.

Inanna thinks she can reach Hadad, and she thinks she can reach him--

-- when suddenly everything snaps into focus... but it's from somewhen else....

The light shines brightly upon Polaris in slightly better days. The Godswar may soon begin; there have been rumors of strikes against the roots of Yggdrasil, and the Norske deities have returned to their divine home in the branches of the World-Ash to seek answers and fight watever might have struck at them. A few odd rumors have filtered out from that direction, of creatures both angelic and monstrous being seen in those depthless roots. From Polaris, what can be seen of Yggdrasil -- and the other places of divinity -- shows it to be placid; but Yggdrasil is a very long distance away, and there could be a full war being waged within its branches and none on Polaris would know.

A small assemblage is gathered on the outskirts of Polaris, along one of the balconies that looks out upon the vast Mirror. Inanna and Hephaestus and Loki and Lilith are there, completing preparations for their entry into Samsara, the Wheel of Mortal Life. Little Raven, only just recently inducted into the mysteries of Death, is there with inhumanly tall and imposing, black-skinned Anubis, his fishing-staff in one hand and ankh in his other. Also, quiet and mute and standing nearby, are the two sons of El': warlike Baal Hadad, son of El' and Asherah; and gentle Joshua ben Joseph of Nazareth.

Anubis is explaining carefully to Loki in his stentorian, sepulchral voice, "I assure you, Loki Half-Giant. And to you others as well," he addresses the other gods, "we are still researching how to place you within Samsara as quickly and with as little issue as possible."

Hephaestus sitting calmly to one side as he hones one of his sister's blades, and looks up from his work. He smiles, an expression that one sees more often on his face than before. "I do not recommend being hurled from the top of Mount Olympus." he says dryly.

Inanna says simply, "We await your decision." She glances over at the two sons of El, wondering if they are helping Anubis in his studies. The younger one, what's his name... right, Joshua or something -- he too has risen from the dead, just as she has. She wonders idly if El was trying to emulate her by sacrificing and resuscitating the poor boy like that. She cannot recommend the experience as enjoyable, although it does tend to bestow great power when it works -- or should she say, if it works. She'd planned ahead carefully for her revival, after all.

Loki is pacing, looking very agitated and irritable. "We both know he's gnawing on the roots of Yggdrasil," he says, clearly not liking being here when his family are a Yggdrasil, "and I spent a very long time researching this, Anubis. You'd not believe how hard it was to find Joshua here." The Christos politely does not say anything. "So what you're saying, is that you don't know how El-Amon-Re did it with Joshua?"

The jackal-headed Throne-cum-god sighs. "Yes." He turns his depthless eyes to Hephaestus. "But for you it was a rebirth of sorts, was it not?" He looks to Inanna. "Queen Inanna... well I know that you remember your journey to your sister's domain, far beneath what would one day become Mount Zion. It was a death and a rebirth, was it not?"

Lilith glances at the two sons of her former lover and smiles a little, thinking how they are foils for one another. Night and day. Split off from El-Amon-Re as if he had imbued them with parts of his spirit.

Hephaestus grimaces...trying to make light of something brought it all up for him. "I don't know. To be honest, I suspect it was not at all meant to be anything but my death. If anything, my mother saved me, though I never thought to ask her how. My point is that she could not change what the Skyfather did...she could only transmute it. I was remade as a mortal, but it was...traumatic, to say the least." He does not mention his twisted legs. He doesn't need to.

Joshua murmurs, "It always is," in answer to Hephaestus's comments about being remade as a mortal.

Loki seems to be a few degrees warmer than ambient actually. Or at least warmer than normal; he hasn't burst into flames yet. "So you're saying that we're going to have to die to accomplish this?"

"We are looking for ways where that is not necessary," Anubis says. "Besides, simply dying would not result in what you seek. You would simply be dead. It is the rebirth that is the difficulty."

Inanna gracefully turns, her flashing gaze resting on the young Hebrew man for a moment before she nods graciously to Anubis, "It was, aye. My sister struck me down, but I had planned for my revival before I headed down there, since I knew full well the likely extent of her grief."

The smith bows his head to Joshua in acknowledgement. "So it is."

She thoughtfully adds, "Father Enki gave the food of life and the water of life to the sexless kurgarra and galatur to sprinkle on my corpse. That revived me. Someone had to take my place in the Underworld, though."

Lilith leans against the railing of the balcony and says, "And what of Isis?"

Inanna glances over to the increasingly upset Loki, then holds out a hand in silent invitation to him.

Hephaestus studies Athena's sword. "That required you to die, however, Inanna. If we can do it withough dying..." His eyes alight. "Perhaps we should not look at this like it is a matter of life and death."

Inanna glances over at Hephaestus, "It is not life and death in the sense which El uses it. I see this more as part of the natural cycle. It is El who has somehow convinced the mortal dreamers that a stagnant Eden filled with emotionally frozen children -- like a fly in amber -- is preferable to actually living and loving, dying and being reborn to joyously live to the fullest once more."

Loki blinks to Inanna -- there was a bit of smoke starting to rise from his hair -- and he sighs, finally, cooling off (literally) as he moves to the Queen of Heaven he has bound himself to. Anubis says, "Yes. And we are attempting to combine several of these goals into one: To have you 'die' to the life of deities, and be reborn in the Wheel of Mortal Life. It is nontrivial to accomplish."

The smith looks at all of those present. "We should look at it like - and forgive me if this sounds like me being a hammer, and every problem being a nail - the work in the forge. We take the raw materials, and make it into something else, like this blade. Now, if we wanted this blade to be something else, it's possible. It would take care, and work, but the metal of this sword could be remade into something else. If we ourselves placed ourself in the fire of the universe that made us all, perhaps we, too, could be reshaped?"

She turns to Anubis, adding, "Why is this difficult? Simply guide our souls to mingle in with those of the mortals awaiting rebirth. We will be disguised well enough by their multitudes."

Inanna takes Loki's hand in her own, and reaches with the other to lightly brush cooling fingertips along his Third Eye. Her voice is gentle, "Be calm, fiery one. Be serene within yourself as we start the natural cycle of life and death. Relax, Laufey's son; be at peace."

Lilith purses her lips thoughtfully, "But... that might be the issue. My l... El has told his followers that they do not get reborn into a physical life."

Inanna smiles at Lilith, "One of many lies, I take it?"

Lilith nods, eyes sad as she looks at the sons of the mad god, "And yet, he proved himself wrong with Joshua."

Inanna nods gravely as she looks at the young man, "More than once, aye. There was also Lazarus, and Elijah was taken up before death. I believe there were several other cases as well, both by Jeshua here and by some of his disciples, of the dead rising again."

Joshua nods softly to Lilith. "The mythology built up around what I was put through is... conflicting. Every sect he has allowed to flourish and conflict with the others has its own interpretation."

Anubis shakes his head. "It is not that simple, I fear. As deities your do not have the souls of mortals. When you are slain, you enter torpor, a state of statelessness; if there are enough of your followers still worshipping you, you may return in some form; death for gods is -- sometimes -- but temporary. When mortals die, we Thrones convey the soul to Hades and the far shores."

Inanna nods to Joshua, then turns and says to Anubis, "That is fine. Listen, we are keeping you from your studies, and this is not our specialty. Why don't you continue your research, and we will withdraw until you are ready for us."

"Call us when you have something, please.

Lilith nods to Joshua. She smiles to the newly-instated Raven and says to the Egyptian Throne, "Please try your best. We must have this." Her laugh is warm, though there's an undertone of nervousness, "Life I can do. But procreation is different than re-creation."

Anubis inclines his head to Inanna, and is about to depart when there is the sound of a loud horn echoing through the streets of Polaris. It sounds again, then again, and a fourth time, and continues to sound. The other gods that are visible look confused, and are looking around curiously.

Inanna smiles ruefully at Loki, adding, "I am not a fan of pacing, and I suspect you will be happier elsewhere as well." She pauses at the horn's call and sighs, "What new distraction is this?"

She steps over to the balcony's edge, searching for the cause of the braying horns.

A shout goes up, and the demigods and minor gods present rush to the Zionward side of Polaris. From there is the unmistakable sight of flocks upon flocks of six-winged angels. And in the center of those countless flocks are four that are much larger than the others. And mingled into those flocks are living creatures that no sane and rational mortal mind can perceive and still consider the universe understandable.

Hadad's face screws up into a mask of fury. "Father's starting, it seems."

Lilith moves to put her hand on Baal's forearm, "He is mad, stepson. Not in his right mind. He can no more be blamed than a rabid dog."

Inanna's face darkens in anger and for a moment she starts to reach for her bow -- then she catches herself and whirls to Anubis. Dryly she snaps, "Forgive my abruptness, but I strongly suggest you hurry." After that she heads takes the Asgardian's hand and heads towards the door, trying to forestall any frenzies on his part.

Hephaestus, who had gone quiet again, working the blade in his grip, looked up at the horn call, and turned grim. "I should bring this to my sister." he murmurs. He does not add that there is an urge now for him to fight, where once there was only frustration at the impeding war.

Anubis looks to Raven, and they share a single nod. "We will," he says, following behind. "Or rather, we are. Ereshkigal and the others are in the Library of Alexandria as we speak." Loki, for his part, is possessed of a grim sort of calm as he follows behind Inanna.

Hadad, hothead that he is, charges forward, reaching the balcony just as the first wave of angels and living creatures washes over it like a wave, hiding him from view in a furious cascade of wings and lances....

The sound of ten hundred million angels starting to swarm Polaris washes out like a cascade of white noise, and the four find themselves once again before the bas-relief vault. So... this is what happened to Hadad, then.

But perhaps that touch did more than remind the now-mortals of the day Polaris fell. For deep within the vault in which he is imprisoned, Lilith can hear her stepson weeping, and Inanna can feel the madness and rage ebbing from him.

Lilith catches her breath in a sobbing gasp and she whips around, "Get him out of there! Please!"

Inanna steps forward, resting a hand on Lilith's bare shoulder. "He is calming, little sister. It is time to open the seals and free the poor man." She draws her knife, raising it up to slash the edge across the sigil on one of the seals.

Inanna pauses for a moment to study the seal, to see if her action will accomplish her goal.

She sighs in faint exasperation at the seals -- they do appear to be slightly magical, but not due to the sigil. Rather, their magic is simply that they were poured vertically. The actual force holding it all in place seems to be simply that the seals are there, and the seals look like Hephaestus could break them fairly easily with his maul. Inanna turns to Hephaestus, "Shatter the seals, please."

Norris nods as he pulls his weapon free...winding up, he strikes the first with a forceful blow, and watches it shatter in fascination. Seeing now that yes, he is a destroyer too...but some things must be destroyed. The seals fall in rapid succession, one after the other.

Inanna gently draws Lilith away from the wall so Hephaestus can work.

As the last seal breaks to Hephaestus's hammer, there is a rumbling sound - in fact the rumbling sound begins with the first seal being broken, and rises in volume until it is deafening with the seventh seal broken. The bas-relief shudders in it's place, and cracks appear in it, emanating from the depressions where the seals were and spiderwebbing through the relief until they meat... and then the door simply breaks outward in a storm of stone, the pieces launching themselves out into the cavern. It is only by moving out of the way quickly that the four mortals manage to keep from being carried away by the exploding bas-relief.

The rumbling -- it seems impossible that Babylon itself did not notice it -- ceases as the block of stone is broken and evacuated. There, then, revealed is the vault of the First Rider, the Conquorer, the Antichrist... Lord Hadad, first son of El' and prince of Mount Zion, curled up on the granite floor, still armored and armed as the day they last saw him on Polaris, but weak from emotion, from remembering, from being drawn back from the brink of madness.

Lilith darts forward and wraps herself around him, hand going to his brow to stroke it, whispering softly to him as she would to a frightened child.

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Last modified: 2008-Oct-04 19:17:18

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