Chapter 250: A Tale Through Ages, Part
That one day. There was always that one day, the one day you least suspect, a day that began so normal and ended so... not so normal. Ria had days like those before... perhaps too many even, and that day was certainly one of those days.
Ever since then, a new status-quo had been established, uprooting the old in a matter of a quick few minutes. Once more, she’d find herself frolicking about her days, whilst also keeping an ear out for the distinct crack of broken twigs.
Ruria would come to visit, just as she did so many years before, every few months or so. Not to talk, but to inform – because as of late, there was always news from the outside to bring to light, and each had always been grimmer than the last.
The first time she visited again was only just a few weeks following their last. Ria tried to be cordial then, offered both a smile and a seat just right beside her. Ruria remained standing, clutching her drabby robes tight.
Terestra had finally done the imminent and inevitable, a few days back there were reports of sightings of a foul, dreadful demon wandering the shores of North Rike.
Two months after, Ruria returned for another solemn entrance... bringing forth rumors of a township submerged deeply in Blightfall. They pleaded for help, but no Speakers or Listeners heeded their call for fear of the ravenous demon that might still be lurking.
For months, for years, it was a slow, gradual, painful transition from bad to worse. There wasn’t a day that passed without news of another attack, a catastrophic disaster unprecedented, and every effort made to defy the odds only brought upon even greater misery.
.....
There was a new age impending, an age of fear... an age of Terestra. But it seemed all hope was not yet lost.
“They got one,” announced a panting Ruria out loud, still traversing through branches and bushes, sputtering out a stray leaf from her lips. “The Seven Churches, they’ve managed to get one after all.”
In all the commotion, a bundle of carefully placed twigs atop a branch instantly toppled over. Ria could only sigh... and swoop over to the ground to hear this month’s news.
An unknown hero from an unknown age... Leonardo was an enigma even to Ria. Supposedly, he was a slayer of a demon lord whose tale had too been lost to time.
Twenty years later, and that was still the only piece of good news to grace the forest’s trees. Terestra’s reign of terror had not abated, and this great savior brought forth from the past apparently hadn’t the capabilities to contest with the Demon Goddesses’ might. Leonardo, unbeknownst to the realm, had gone into hiding.
One day, a stormy day... after a long streak of absence, Ruria stepped foot into the forest once again, and as always... Ria was there, resting upon her old faithful little stump.
Ria noticed that Ruria had stopped aging for some time already, ever-stagnant, ever-youthful, and ever-alluring. If there ever was a limit to beauty, Ria highly doubted anybody else would ever come close.
Indeed... if she only made do without those drabby robes, unveil the hood completely, she could so easily...
“Oh,” Ria looked up from her stump, tethered to the pair of eyes that met her own... for suddenly, they weren’t the same as hers anymore. “Their brown...”
That wasn’t all, as Ria very quickly noticed a moment after, “And you’re white.”
Ruria stepped further out into view, hoodless, robeless, exposing her bare body out into the open with only a spare bit of leather wrapped around her hips.
It was bizarre, it was very strange, frankly quite distressing, but more than any of them – it was absolutely a dream come true. It was a serious test of will to keep herself from lunging at her, but somehow, someway Ria came through somewhat victorious.
“It’s a glamour spell I’ve been working on,” Ruria explained, blind to the dangerous glint in the phoenixes’ unblinking gaze. “What do you think? Convincing?”
“It’s perfection,” Ria instantly spoke, but then took an even closer look. “Ah well, almost perfection actually...”
Ruria, frowning, followed her gaze down below where a black narrow tail still slithered and swayed.
“I haven’t yet completely mastered it. I’m only fairly adequately presentable half the time...”
“Perish the thought!” bellowed the fervor in Ria’s voice, her legs pacing, her crimson eyes feasting, her neck craning all over every voluptuous curve of her body. “Adequate you are not. I presume this was the reason you haven’t visited in so long... were you perhaps too busy turning the heads of men wherever you go?”
Ruria sighed, “Some women too, surprisingly,” and gave her fingers a snap... and to the dismay and despair of the ogling phoenix, once again there was hood veiling her face, and thick heavy robes shrouding her body.
Ria leaned up, her eyes staring slightly peeved. “Unworldly beauty such as the kind you possess is wasted if all you ever do is dress around like a humble starving pilgrim as your old man did.”
“If you wish to keep your tongue, shut up,” She replied nonchalantly. “I only show myself when I deem it necessary, and I only show very little, usually that’s always enough. The men will always tell me what I want to know in exchange for just a little more.”
“And what did they tell you this time?”
Ria made some space on the log, but as usual, Ruria remained standing where she stood, always so distantly close.
“According to one frustrated Holy Servant I met in a tavern, Terestra has been spotted in the outskirts of Creekwood.”
“Creekwood. That’s Fey territory. You don’t suppose...?”
“Alliance?” Ruria shook her head. “Unlikely. Terestra hasn’t aligned with anyone until now, not even the Elves... why start now?”
“Then that’s good luck to them, I suppose,” She shrugged. “Putting that aside... what of the Churches, what have they been up to all this time?”
There was an audible scoff. “They still believe their hope lies in the great hero that deserted them. Supposedly, a Seer prophesied that he will be the only one to see Terestra to her end.”
“I had believed Seers to be a profession long exiled by the Churches. Wasn’t it too an act of heresy, or am I misremembering?”
“These are desperate times.”
Another scoff this time through smirking lips. “If you still have to hide yourself from them, glamour yourself... then clearly these are times not desperate enough.”
“On the contrary,” Ruria rebutted. “There’s been talks...”
“Only talks.”
“In the east, there’s a tribe of Sik that has forged an alliance with a nearby Kingdom.”
“One flimsy alliance in a realm full of opposition.”
“It’s something.”
“It’s nothing,” Ria simply said. “And at the very most, not enough... don’t you think? Picture this, the demon race hand-in-hand with the Churches, you hand-in-hand... now would you ever -”
“No,” Ruria said at once. “I’d rather die.”
“But we’re not going to die,” She said cheerily. “That’s the plan, right? So how about it? Are we ready to jump ship?”
“Not yet.”
That was that a tone of finality in her voice, over their talks throughout the years, Ria had fairly adept in sensing when the discussion was nearing its end... and indeed, their distances began to lengthen as Ruria slowly turned away.
“There’s an important gathering happening in Astra in a day’s that I wish to know more about. The officials there are always so easily seduced, I shall be off now.”
For once, just this once, Ria felt... perhaps it was nigh time to have more than just dreary discussions in their meetings.
“All work, all day” She wondered aloud, “Don’t you ever tire of it? That’s all you ever do now.”
She expected her to just keep on walking, expected to hear the rustle of bushes parting open. But she didn’t.
Ruria turned back, glancing with those newly-formed hazel eyes. “And you suggest to me... to do what exactly with my life instead?”
Ria stood up, walking jovial steps towards her, speaking almost whimsically as she did.
“Oh well, you know... sometimes you just have to live a little, laugh a little...” She stopped face to face, a smile on her face. “Love a little.”
Ruria’s lips remained stiffly narrow and straight, walking forward past her. “Been there, done that. I’ve lived... I’ve laughed...”
“You’ve never loved.”
She turned again, leaning against the old decaying stump, with a huff, and with her arms folded close, she strongly affirmed, “I don’t have to.”
“Don’t have to?” Ria cocked a brow. “Or don’t want to?”
“Both. Love’s not real.”
Somewhere inside her, Ria fought against the urge to burst into laughter, and once more somehow emerged the victor. “Look – even I’m not that much of a cynic. There is love, and it’s as real as it gets. You’re only saying that because of what you do... what you’re made for.”
“Exactly. For why else is it that I can do what I do? Is it for love? No. People don’t love me, they want me... because there are only wants in this world, there’s only desire. Love’s not real.”
“So says you.”
“So says the world as we know it,” Ruria took a breath. “Look at what Astra has for a king – a culmination of usurped bloodlines and lineages resulting from secret affairs and betrayals stemming from the desires, from wants. Where’s the love in that, I ask you?”
Ria continued to speak otherwise, continued to shake her head, “No, you’ll meet a guy. You will.”
“I met with lots of guys.”
“You’ll meet a better guy.”
“Enough already,” She groaned, leaning her head against her knuckles. “Why did I entertain this? You’re a headache. I thought out of everyone here, you’d know better than that.”
“Better than what? Better than love?” Ria tried to meet her gaze through the slits in her fingers. “You don’t think I’ve loved before? Hey, I loved you.”
“Ew.”
“Oh by the Divines – stop with the tough act already! You know you loved me too.”
As always, a face of hard stone was what she was met with. But even stones crack, and eventually, she will too. “And perhaps... even still do.”
Ruria brushed past her shoulders, her ever-smiling face, and stalked away in silence, not another word past her lips, and the rustling of parted bushes never sounded as loud and quick as it did just then.
“Some wisdom from your elder, Ruria,” She called out to the fading sound of footsteps growing distant. “You may think you’re in control of your emotions acting all despondent... but I’m telling you love’s different from the rest! You don’t control it, it controls you, whether you want it to or not!”
And just to herself, chuckling silently, she made a promise, “And once it has, make no mistake, you won’t even know what to do with yourself... and it’ll be over my dead body that I won’t be there to see it happen. Mark my words.”
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