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When The Bough Breaks

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Reality Fault

Realms: Bough Logs

Intermezzo: Requiem Reprise

Dreams are strange; they have little sense of continuity, and a hundred years can last a moment; likewise, things don't always happen at the same time. In this case, Mikal is pretty sure that it's when she was dreaming, sleeping the night after Jareth had his brush with death; and yet she remembers the conversation the following morning with the group in the bath.

People in the Waking might call it deja vu. In the Dreamtime, it's a simple discontinuity; something that doesn't always happen, but it's there.

Mikal finds herself in a summer forest, the air warm and a touch humid. She's dressed for it, of course, her gear light and airy. And she is comfortable here, with the sounds of the forest and the comfortable, familiar surroundings. It isn't a Staunton forest, but it's close enough.

Mikal is faintly relieved -- Staunton forests are thicker and far more dangerous. She glances around, giving the soft birdcall for her friends. She raises a thoughtful eyebrow as only Iron Antlers comes wending gracefully through the trees to her, his wide rack bobbing slightly as he tilts his head to fit between the branches. So... this must be a dream -- her dream. No worries then; Raphael will be there when she awakens. She smiles, rubbing the big fey-stag's forehead as he stops in front of her, and murmurs, "Hey, handsome. Any idea what's up, or why we're here?"

Iron Antlers snorts a little, but her certainly doesn't seem to be concerned..

Mikal smiles, swinging easily up onto the stag's bare back, and lets Iron Antlers wander where he wishes. She looks around relaxedly, letting her senses extend to tell her what's nearby and where they are. It certainly seems peaceful...?

There are a few others in this forest that Mikal can notice -- travellers, it seems, none of them mortal. Through the trees she thinks she can make out the walls of the Winter Palace, or at least a structure that looks like it, considering the lack of snow on the ground.

Mikal is a bit bemused, wondering where she is... and why she's here. She's not too worried currently, though. It's a lovely day, after all. She ends up pulling off her boots and tucking them into her belt so she can let her bare toes wiggle happily in the warmth of the day.

Mikal tries to catch sight of some of the others, idly curious as to who and what travels with her.

Mostly they just seem to be travelers, a few foresters, nobody with apparently any pressing business. It's as she's walking about, and she comes to what she remembers is a small stone bridge over a stream in the Winter Palace -- except of course it's summer. he sees a not-terribly-tall, slender figure with white hair and black cloak, leaning on the edge of the bridge and looking into the stream. Her gaze would be rapt if it weren't more a bit blank. It is clearly Raven.

Mikal blinks, a bit surprised -- why is Raven here in her dream? As long as Mikal gets no foreboding feeling, and Iron Antlers does not seem at all nervous, the young woman will continue her meander foreward. She stops the fey stag next to the woman and leans over to look curiously, murmuring quietly, "What are you looking at?"

Raven replies quietly, "The fish that swim through here glitter like they have silver scales. They're lovely to look at, a little mesmerising. I remember spending long times here watching them."

Mikal looks confusedly at the immortal, "'Remember'? How do you mean? You're doing it now, aren't you?" She leans over to check that there are indeed silvery fish swimming below the bridge.

There are, indeed, silvery fish swimming about. Raven nods. "Yes, but... I won't be able to do this anymore. At least not for a while. After bringing Jareth back...," her voice catches, and she takes a moment to recover; her expression does not change otherwise. "After bringing him back, Azrael will be looking for me."

Mikal studies the immortal silently for a few heartbeats, then checks, "Azriel is the servant of the One that Jareth mentioned seeing? If it's looking for you, how will you do your job of taking the mortal dead on?"

Raven straightens a little, resting a hand on the edge of the bridge, and nods. "Yes. He is the Angel of Death. The Architect would want him to be Throne, but I am jealous of my position. Ereshkigal, Anubis, Pluto... they all held on to their positions to the end, and so shall I."

She pauses at an ugly thought, then checks again, "Wait... are you saying a servant of the One will be here?! By the Winter Palace, I mean?!"

Raven looks to Mikal, shaking her head. "No. Azriel will try to find me, but I will not let myself be found."

Mikal looks down in some confusion at the immortal. "Um... what end did they all come to?"

"Some died in the Godswar. Some fled the Dreamtime before the Architect could find them. Most were weaekened; they had become gods themselves, and they became weak without mortal worshippers."

Mikal frowns, puzzling out Raven's confusing statements, "So... we can expect to see Azrael here soon? Why now? Why not earlier, just after this god war thingie?"

"No; he will not be here soon, and you will not see him as often as you have seen me. He will be obsessed with finding me. I will still collect mortals and bring them to Hades, however.

"I survived the Godswar... I am not certain how. But I survived, I believe, because I am not a goddess. I never sought worshippers. Ereshkigal taught me that. She was the first of the thrones of Death to be worshipped as a goddess, and it elevated her, made her powerful... but it also made her vulnerable."

Mikal wonders why the name Inanna comes to her as she listens to the name 'Ereshkigal'... then she shakes her head impatiently at herself, and continues listening.

Mikal says, "What happens if he finds you? And again -- why now?"

Raven looks out over the bridge's edge again. "He will likely try to destroy me. And it's happening now because I broke the rules."

Mikal stretches out relaxedly on Iron Antlers' back as the big stag lazily crops the leaves off some willow branches hanging over the end of the bridge. She rests her chin on her crossed hands, her tone curious, "This is all so... so strange to me. How can an immortal die? If you know he's coming, why not get a bunch of friends together and warn him off? Like a 'defending your territory' kind of thing, you know?"

Raven looks up to Mikal. "I won't overburden you with explainations, then, Mikal. It's likely nothing like you remember in Staunton, or in your Waking life. Is it enough to say that 'Immortal' does not mean 'invulnerable?'

Mikal says, "Sure. But still... don't you have a pack or family or something, to help defend you? If nothing else, won't other immortals here be affronted by the intrusion of Azrial?"

Raven considers, "There are... a few other Thrones. But some of them are in a precarious position themselves. Mara Sith, the Throne of Dreams, holds the Wall and keeps the Mirror as safe as she can, but she must deal with the spider-wasps as well. She is the most powerful of the Thrones, but I could not go to her for more help." She thinks for a moment. "I have sought others, but until now, being the Throne of Death has not needed much help...."

Mikal smiles faintly, tilting her head as she considers... she could see how Death might not ordinarily need much help. Curiously she asks, "How does Mara Sith deal with the spider-wasps?"

Raven says, "She has organized the alfar, united them together, and sent them out against the spider-wasps. She has commissioned the making of weapons that can harm the spider-wasps. And she looks to send mortals out into the Dreamtime and the Mirror to seek weapons made by mortal hands which may yet harm the spider-wasps."

Mikal sits up a bit, her expression confused again, "She does? Huh! I wonder why we aren't helping her then! Or... is she the woman we met at the Winter Palace?"

Raven blinks. "But you have helped her. Throgh the Seneschal, Rowan. But the seneschal is waiting until you are stronger before sending you on more difficult tasks.

Mikal says, "Oh, all right. That's right, it's Rowan we met." She's silent for a few moments as she settles back down, comfortably sprawled along the fey-stag's back, then curiously adds, "So will Azrael have the same weaknesses here as all the other immortals we've met? Is he like super strong or something?""

Raven looks at Mikal consideringly for a brief moment, then says slowly, "Ony the alfar and a few others are vulnerable to iron. Azriel does not share that vulnerability. But he is vulnerable in some ways to simple salt."

Mikal looks puzzled, "Why do you look at me like that? Am I asking really stupid questions or something?"

Raven shakes her head. "It is just... I have never been asked a question like that. It is...." She searches for the right words. "It is... different."

Mikal looks rather interested, "Why? I mean, wouldn't folks want to help you if they can?"

Raven says, "Until now, Azriel has not had much power over me. But now that I have broken the rules, he does. Jareth described him, yes? Hideously frightening, terrifying to behold?"

Mikal smiles and shakes her head, "The description of a dream -- especially by another -- rarely holds the same emotional content as the experience." She tilts her head curiously again, "So following rules grants power to immortals? Are these rules written down anywhere? Does someone have them memorized?"

Raven nods. "It does. As for what those rules are, it depends on what rules the aethyr follows. Each Throne has their own rules they must follow, different from one another. Mara Sith has different rules she must follow than I do. Even gods must follow certain rules, as must their messengers and servitors. The Library at Alexandria would have tomes with all such rules.

"Azriel appears terrifying, for a reason. For a long time, the Architect and other gods have sought to make mortals terrified of death, to make them fear the coming of that good night, to make them fear going to the shores of Hades. And so now, few mortals welcome death." Is that the ghost of a smile? "You yourself did not like the idea of Jareth going away, did you? Even though he told you later... what he saw of Hades, you still would not want him to go."

Mikal considers silently for a long time, searching herself for answers. Finally she replies slowly, "I... think I would like to research the rules which must be followed by the One and Azriel. Alexandria, you say? Thank you. And in regards to death: of course I would not want Jareth to go. For the first time in my life I have a pack that accepts me -- more than simply Father and Raphael! It is new and wonderful to me, and I want to learn more about it." She's silent a bit more, considering, then adds in an almost calculating tone of voice, "Tell me please... about Azrael. Why salt? Is this allergy just like that of the aelfar to steel, or what?"

Raven considers for a moment, looking down into the waters. "It is the way mortals have influenced beings such as he," she explains slowly. "To mortals, the alfar and similar beings were vulnerable to iron, and so they are. The angels of the Architect were believed to be hindered by the salt of the earth, and so they are. I am sorry, I can try to explain it better, if you wish..."

Mikal blinks at a sudden thought, "Wait... if the mytho-conceptual linkages maintain coherence, then that would indicate all the servitors of the One -- perhaps even the One itself! -will have that same allergy! Is that the case?" She grins excitedly down at Raven -- then blinks, momentarily boggled at herself. 'Mytho-conceptual linkages'?! Where the heck did that come from?!

Raven seems to take it in stride. "You are perhaps an anthropologist in the Waking," she comments. "And yes. All angels -- and demons -- of the Architect are vulnerable to salt. It blocks their path. It prevents their passage.

Mikal blinks again, her voice a little small, "Anthro, uhh... right...?" She regains some of her bright-eyed interest as Raven continues though, listening and nodding attentively. "So... if I drew a line of salt on the ground they couldn't cross it? I mean, they could go around it, sure, but they can't cross it at all?

Raven nods quietly. "That is correct, yes. It is why mortal sorcerers draw circles around themselves, to protect them from such beings. And why those circles almost invariably are made from minerals including salt."

Mikal adds puzzledly, "Why not just dirt? Why the salt of the earth?"

Mikal adds even more puzzledly, "And why aren't you carrying a big bag of the stuff with you all the time?!"

Raven says dryly, "For the same reason that it is iron, and not bronze or brass or tin, that affects alfar; Because it is the way things are. And salt can't be just cast around like pixie dust. And just sprinkling it on the ground will not do; it must be a line." She pauses. "And because," she says a little embarrasedly, "to do so would be to, essentially, taking up arms against another aethyr, and that is something Death is forbidden from doing."

Mikal sits up, folding her arms and looking exasperated, "Wait. You're telling me a snoot-full of salt wouldn't hurt Azrial? But throwing iron dust at the aelfar would seriously wound them! I thought this was the same sort of thing?" She frowns, warming to her indignation as she adds, "And what's this about you not being able to defend yourself -- when Azrial clearly is gunning for you?! Isn't that taking up arms against you?!"

"Now he is. Because I have already broken the rules. Now I have to decide how much more I will break them. I beileve I am not done yet in that.

"Each type of aethyr is different, Mikal. Do not underestimate the value of a line that an enemy cannot cross at all. Iron burns the alfar, yes. Throwing salt on Azriel and others of his ilk will cause a lesser reaction, and in great enough quantity they will be held to the spot. But a line is most effective."

Mikal is silent, although her slightly mulish expression is indicative of her politely withheld thoughts. If Death can't defend herself, why isn't she finding companions who can defend her? What use is a line that can't be crossed if it can simply be walked around? Mikal can't help but think she's not getting all the answers, although she's not sure where she'd go to get the absolute and unadorned truth -- even the books in the Library at Alexandria had to be written by someone, and they must've had their interpretations of the truth just as much as Raven clearly does. Mikal just sighs softly, though, and politely murmurs, "Um... I guess." Dryly she adds, "This place sure is confusing, though."

Mikal has a small packet of salt in her backpack, along with the other herbs she used to use for cooking. She makes a mental note: must get much more salt!

Raven sees she hasn't explained herself clearly. She continues: "It is true that iron harms the alfar; but a gutful of iron will harm a mortal as well. What I speak of is what happens in addition to or besides the normal effects. A faceful of salt will give anyone pause; it will make Azriel and other angels rooted in place for a few moments, depending on how much salt they are doused with. It will not hold them for long, but it will hold them long enough."

Mikal nods slowly, her face lighting up a bit with understanding. "Ah! So if you had to sleep, then drawing a circle of salt about yourself would be wise, yes?"

Raven considers, then nods. "Yes. Unless Azriel became the Throne of Death and you died in your sleep, he would not be able to cross that circle."

Mikal adds curiously, "Are you an aelfar too?"

She shakes her head. "I am an aethyr, but I am not an aelfar, no. I... do not know fully from whence I sprang, only that it was before the Godswar, that I was taught at the knees of Ereshkigal and Anubis, and that now I am the only surviving Throne of Death."

Mikal gets a suddenly intent look, "Wait... so it passes along -- the Thrones, I mean -- from immortal to immortal? If you and Azrial both were gone, what would happen?"

Mikal says, "Why don't you, um... I don't know what to call it -- why don't you adopt an heir?"

Raven is silent for a moment. "I... don't know what would happen," she says in a small voice. "I... am not sure why I could not do that."

Mikal grins, bouncing slightly on the fey-stag's back -- and earning an amusedly exasperated glance over his shoulder from Iron Antlers, "Do that then! That's what you should do! Even if he catches you, there'll be someone else to fill in -- and maybe that will help discourage him!"

Raven blinks. "I'm... not sure if I can. I will look into it." She turns, then, and looks at Mikal carefully. "I will do so, while I am hiding. I wanted to tell you something, though, to reassure you...."

Mikal smiles, her eyes still alight with excitement, "Yes?"

Raven says gently, "I broke the rules bringing Jareth back. I will likely break many more rules again, but that one... I do not think I can break with impunity. I may not be able to break it again. But I will be fleeing Azriel while I am seeking ways to oppose him. You will not see me, you will not find me if you looked for me, there will be some who will say I have gone for good." She hesitates, then reaches up to gently touch Mikal's cheek. "But I will not have gone, I have not forsaken you or any other mortal, I swear. When the time comes, I will be there, and you will see the shores of Hades, I promise. I would not deny any mortal that, even with Azrael being such a bastard." She blinks; there had been a hint of emotion in her voice towards the end, and she composes herself rapidly, drawing back her hand as if looking sheepish and guilty for showing such concern and affection. "Forgive me," she murmurs. "I just... I don't want to be feared; I only wish to show mortals to the shore."

Mikal smiles again, her expression serene, "Raven, I'm one of the monster hunters of Stanton. Raph and I have faced death before. More than once I've been sure I was done for. Having looked death in the face there, how could I fear you in the here and now?" She adds gently, "I believed sometimes that Death was a kindness, there. Now I've met you, I know it is so."

Raven inclines her head. "Thank you, Mikal," she says, sounding relieved. "I am glad that there are still some whom the Architect and his messengers have not made fearful of me."

Mikal snorts amusedly, "My da always taught me I shouldn't depend on miracles to save us from the monsters, so I never really believed in the One." She adds wryly, "Especially being part monster myself."

Raven makes a quiet sound. "Once there were many; now there is just the One. I think Anubis believed that the Architect sought that from the beginning. Be that as it may, he is in no condition to grant miracles any more."

Mikal nods calmly, "Not surprised to hear that. Anyone who'd send monsters on innocent folk shouldn't be worshipped in the first place, I feel."

Raven says, "Ereshkigal told me that he was a good god once. Like most storm-gods quick to anger, but equally quick to bring gentle, needed rain to his people. But then something happened, and he was no longer the god he once was...." She shakes her head. "No. Any who do so... well, I would not call the worthy of worship. There are rules, and many times, before the Godswar, gods had to do things they would not wanted to... but there were reasons. There is no longer reason in the Architect, I feel." She looks at Mikal, tilting her head to the side. "Why do you say you are part monster?"

Mikal sighs, laying back down flat on Iron Antlers' back, "Well... it's the only answer that makes sense, Raven. I mean, why would no one in the village know my mother, even though Da was born and raised there? He had to have met her elsewhere, and yet he didn't bring her back to the village. He must have been hiding her from them -- and that's why he kept me out in the forest so much too, I suspect. Giving birth to me is what killed her, but Da won't talk about her to me at all." She considers, then adds, "There's that, and Raphael -- when we met we just knew each other, you know? I figure he's my older half-brother." She amends a little awkwardly, "Uh, I meant Da wouldn't talk to me about her, sorry." A little sadly she adds, "I... I know it was all just a make-believe dream in my head..."

Raven is silent for a moment. Then she says, softly, "I must go. Azriel will find me soon. He will not likely show himself to you, but I would rather he not find me at all. But before I leave, I will break one more rule, Mikal.

"You and Raphael are more than siblings in the dream of Staunton. You are siblings in the Waking."

Mikal sits up in startlement, "What?!" and then notices Raven is gone. She shakes her head in wry amusement. "Now why would you break more rules, and weaken yourself more, to tell me that, Raven? You must have done it for a reason... so what does that knowledge change in the here and now?"

Mikal sighs thoughtfully, resting her chin on her fists and her elbows on Iron Antlers' smooth-furred back, "Aethyrs... sure are confusing!"

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