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Post by Beak on Jun 21, 2024 6:52:27 GMT -5
For a moment, Beak shows some surprise at the brazenness of the dedications. The ones she's witnessed and are used to seeing have all been more like please or wishes--"May this one thrive," in this case. However, once it sinks in... yes. Yes, this is perfect. She wanted the children's parents to make this ritual theirs with their contributions, and she cannot think of anything more emphatically Rena than declaring to the great book itself that these children shall thrive, that this is not up for discussion. That's her girlfriend; not even the fact that one of these eggs froze to death ages ago, not even the fact that Rena will have to defy fate and join the ranks of the undead herself will keep her from prying and willing that soul into being anyway. These ones shall thrive. Just try to stop them.
"... I love you, istir." Hopefully Rena knows what that was for, what she did to earn both that line and the amused approval she broadcasts alongside it.
She sits near Bell as he works on the ashkeeper construction. He won't need any help when it comes to knowing how to craft metal half-spheres; he could do that in his sleep, and would know the in and outs of metalworking better than Beak would, anyway. Where Beak's guidance comes in is the ritual aspect--any special methods of preparation that need to be observed or included, the parts of the process that make them ashkeepers and not just metal half-spheres.
The extra steps aren't onerous, though, and construction proceeds quite smoothly. Beak is practically beside herself with excitement by the time they're nearing completion... stars above, they're doing it. They're doing it. And when the children come in... "Yes! Yes, these are exactly what we need! Great work, all of you!" They actually brought her far, far more than she needed; she probably should have specified that the ritual involves one single leaf per child, not the entire handfuls that she's now buried under. ... That's fine; this will allow her to get some practice in. Not that writing names and dedications is something she expects to muck up, even in Ibekki, but... well, she's never actually done this before, never used an Inkstone stylus or written on Everstone leaves, specifically, and...
All right, all right, she's overthinking this. It's plainly obvious to anyone who looks upon the elder skeleton at this moment that as the time passes, as they day grows later, as it grows closer and closer to being time, she's even more nervous than Rena. She doesn't need practice writing names because that's actually hard to do in any way, but she could stand to do it a few times just to prove to herself that it's simple and that she needs to relax.
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Post by Rena Brighteyes on Jun 21, 2024 11:25:31 GMT -5
Rena flushes softly, letting out a pleased trill and stepping close and leaning up to softly nip at the underside of Beak’s jaw, “...love you too, to’bi…” the silver eyed crow reluctantly pulls away, then, watching as her girlfriend - girlfriend! - joins her husband at the forge before beginning to putter around the barrow once again…making sure the lights inside stay on, mostly. it…probably won’t matter, but she doesn’t want to risk anything she doesn’t have to…which, ultimately, means no risk at all, at least for today. She lets out a pleased trill at the thought; she’s been burned enough times to despise the thought of gambling with anything more important than meaningless chips…
Bell works tirelessly, delicately lifting each ashkeeper half with his tongs for Beak’s examination between each step. were these weapons, he’d simply be working without pause, but…these aren’t weapons, or tools, or anything so simply straightforward that he can hammer it out with minimal input over a few hours. it’s a nice change of pace, actually…once they’re complete the specter carefully sets them aside to air-cool, setting down his tools next, then setting his forge to cool to embers…and then he nestles up against Beak’s side with a happy coo, only to let out a slightly disappointed trill when the skeleton pulls away to begin perfecting the writing of the names and dedications of the coming hatchlings…ah, well. Bell scoops up a giggling Wind instead, nuzzling the little skeleton and chirping happily as she nestles into his arms…
Nev smiles softly, the raven letting out an affectionate trill as they prepare a light meal for the little ones. Nothing much, just some spider jerky and some stir-fried grubs harvested from Taki’s garden, but the fledglings have long since acquired a ravenous appetite for both…
...The children chirp happily as they hand off the leaves before swarming their not yet parent with hugs and nuzzles and happy trills. They reluctantly pull away when their Bab'sk rings the dinner bell, each leaving Beak with a soft nuzzle of beaks against cloth before they swarm the food that Nev has set out for them...
...it's almost time.
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Post by Beak on Jun 21, 2024 13:25:46 GMT -5
In truth, Beak needs the affection from her datemates and their children more than she needs the writing practice. She knows how to write. She's known how to write since she was a child. It's just... put their names and the dedications on the leaves. That's all. It's the nerves that are getting to her more than anything, the panic over wanting to make sure she does all right out there, that all goes well... and some good old fashioned nuzzling and nibbling go a lot farther to soothe those than more practice.
... That said, it is almost time, isn't it.
All right. Last check for everything on her end. Ashkeepers... Bell is carrying and bringing them. Check. Leaves. Check. Stylus. Check. Tablet... too heavy to carry and she doesn't need it for the rite itself; it doesn't have a prewritten prayer she needs to recite flawlessly word for word or anything like that. She just needs to improvise a speech, as long as it's appropriately sentimental.
This is where she'd be taking deep breaths, if only she could still breathe.
Stars, she's not even going first, anyway. She's acting like her speech starts right now when in truth the dedication will happen after the hatching itself, which-
The hatching.
Sweet scales, the hatching. Here she is worrying about her own nerves when....
"A-are you all right, love?" A careful, gentle hug--Rena is holding the eggs, after all--and a soft... well, it's a bit tricky for her to plant a kiss on the crow's forehead with naught but a skull, but a light bump with the tip of her snout and a telepathic "Mwah" sound will have to suffice.
Beak is as ready as she'll ever be.
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Post by Rena Brighteyes on Jun 21, 2024 14:29:29 GMT -5
Rena smiles wanly, softly cooing as she gently presses into the ‘kiss’ and softly nestles into her girlfriend’s embrace with a quiet trill, “...I…” the silver eyed crow pauses, then nuzzles against the vertebrae of Beak’s neck, “...’m not gonna lie t’ ye, love…I’m scared…I wish I didnae have t’ do this, but…but this needs done, an’ there’s not gonna be a better time than now,” still, she presses close to Beak, her smile brightening a little as Bell and Nev and the children join the embrace with soft chirps and trills as they nestle close…
…the little family stays like that for a while, holding each other and nestling close as they savor this moment of peace before the time comes…
…the night air is crisp and cool, the stars shining brightly down from above as though intently watching the scene below, the children begin to droop as they curl against each other and nestle against their parents and not-yet-parent, slowly dropping off to slumber one by one, despite their best efforts to remain awake and alert for what's to come...
…Rena smiles softly, cradling a pair of eggs in her hands. each is about the size of her fist, each is blue with brown spots…each holds a tiny, unborn life…or, well, one of them does. That one is warm in her gentle grasp, while the other…the other is coated in a thin layer of unmelting frost, saturated with the icy magic of Fimbulwinter, the soul of the deceased, unborn life trapped and unable to move on…and it is this property that the silver eyed crow intends to exploit for the third and final time.
For the third and final time, she shall craft a puppet of bone from the power of her curse. For the third and final time, she shall awaken a soul trapped within a frozen egg. for the third and final time, she shall bind a frozen soul to a shell of bone with threads of hungry darkness, and in so doing she shall awaken both her unhatched children from their slumber…
…but not just yet. The moment is close, but not here quite yet. necromancy is delicate work, even more so when one wishes to create puppets for the use of others, rather than oneself…
…but still the moment approaches, and Rena slowly disentangles herself from the pile of snuggles, stepping out into the clearing that serves as their yard. she walks further out, out to the very middle of it, the stars shining like millions of watching eyes all fixed upon her…and then she speaks, words soft yet somehow carrying back to the others, “...twice now, I’ve defied nature in this way. twice now, I’ve snatched a child from your ravening jaws, Forgotten One. Let us undergo this charade once again, and may this be our final performance…”
…there’s a shifting, a disturbance in the air, and then…
the stars…
go…
out…
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Post by Beak on Jun 21, 2024 19:22:33 GMT -5
Beak nestles in with the rest of the family, nuzzling, snuggling... perhaps even playing with the little ones and training her new powers at the same time.
She just recently learned a new trick with her psychic powers, as the ability to project her will and what she sees into her own mind into that of others' has expanded in its applications from telepathy to telekinesis. It's new, but the children seem to love when she lifts them up with her mind... only a foot or so off the ground for now, of course, while she's stlil learning. Eventually this could come in handy on some adventure, being able to lift an ally from the ground all the way up to a roof or ledge if they need to escape in a hurry, or safely back down... but these are their children, and she'll be damned if she's going to do anything with even the slightest risk of harm if she accidentally drops them or... something. But she's slowly getting bolder as she gets more used to the ability... perhaps "rides" will be in their futures, once she knows it's safe. Still, even the tiniest boosts for now are good practice and seem to be fun for them, so she's happy to have the training while getting to play with them at the same time.
She leaves them to nestle in safely, undisturbed, as they drift off to sleep. The play time, the practicing... everything else is over. It's all come down to this. As she sees the stars disappear, she knows... this is the moment. If all goes well, the stars will be back soon, along with two new additions to the family whom Beak will then be ready to adorn and declare the first new members of the Ibekki tribe in thousands of years.
If all goes well.
Please be all right, love....
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Post by Rena Brighteyes on Jun 21, 2024 19:33:09 GMT -5
…the night is black, and cold, and empty. There is nothing beyond the paltry light that shines through the open door, the family gathered at the burrow’s entrance left adrift in the only safe space amid the abyss…and Rena's out there, somewhere, so close and yet an eternity away...
...and then the whispers start. Mad, gibbering laughter, distant voices screaming and crying and pleading for someone, for anyone to see them, to hear them, to remember them...and then it all weaves into a chorus, a weft of countless murmuring voices, each saying the same thing, “...We greet you once again, Bright One. Most of your kind would leave Us to be Forgotten, yet you have cast yourself into Our darkness thrice now for the sake of your young…” there’s a pause, then, a sense of being watched, of being observed, of gnashing eyes and writhing teeth and squirming bones wrongness, as though the darkness were ravenously clawing at the barrier provided by the light that dimly illuminates the porch…
“...you’ve brought guests this time…is your sacrifice among them?” that whispered chorus inquires, followed by a distant flash of caustic white light, “...We jest, of course. There is but one acceptable offering, and the favor earned by giving Us the Merchant will not save you here…but…yes…We will grant you the piece of Us that you require, and it will cost you…everything…”
…that whispered skein of voices slowly fades to utter silence…and then a familiar voice rings out…Rena’s voice rings out, wordless, ragged, screaming...
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Post by Beak on Jun 21, 2024 19:41:22 GMT -5
RENA!!
Beak lurches forward as if to start running, sprinting toward her beloved, but she stops... she was told. She was warned. The others made it very clear... this part of the ritual is going to be dark, and terrifying, and she will want more than anything else to save her, to make it stop, but... don't interrupt. Do not interrupt. Run to her beloved after, but this is something she has to face alone... they didn't menton the scream, though. They didn't mention the way Rena would be screaming out, as if begging for help that she's every bit as desperate to provide... Gods above and below, the sound, that sound of her girlfriend screaming is one she's never going to forget, is it. Much as she already wishes she could....
It took all the discipline she thought she had not to broadcast that screaming of her name, to leave that "RENA!!" as a thought in her own head only, and it takes even more still not to run, but she holds still... holds....
She holds Bell and Nev, is what she does. Partly for the comfort, for the touch of her beloveds as she has to watch... this. Partly because she's silently begging them to restrain her, to hold her back, because she's not sure she'll be able to resist if this gets much worse.
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Post by Rena Brighteyes on Jun 21, 2024 21:48:41 GMT -5
Perhaps it is a good thing that the fledglings are so soundly asleep, for it means they need not hear their mother’s screams as the hungry black of That which is Not rips into her very soul…
…Bell and Nev are more than happy to hold her in turn, Nev’s normally steady hands shaking as the wraith shudders, their arms locking around their girlfriend’s shoulders and involuntarily squeezing as they gaze out into the abyss with unseeing cobalt eyes, and Bell biting back an anxious hiss as he presses back against Beak…
…deep in the ravening darkness, Rena screams, a spike of crystallized shadow sinking into her chest as her eyes alternate between shining silver and blazing white…silver…white…silver…white…her sclera and pupils slowly subsumed by that twisting, hungry dark, leaving only her glowing irises untouched as she stands, locked in place and still clutching the eggs in her hands as the abyssal shard works its way deeper into her chest over the course of moments, her heart slowing with every inch that pierces deeper into her flesh, her mind, her soul, the shadows ripping out the spark of her life and forcing something cold and dark and hungry into the ragged hole that remains…
…and then the darkness begins to shrink, the stars winking back to light one by one as that hungry abyss shrinks and condenses and congeals into a tiny, desperately cheeping skeleton in the silver eyed crow’s arms…she stands there, swaying gently in the wind as she slowly turns to face her family, the last bits of that onyx shard still slowly sinking into her chest…
…the warm, living egg in her hand lets out a sharp crack that sounds out across the clearing, just as Rena's eye lights gutter out to leave a pair of empty, unnaturally dark sockets in their place, and she begins to tilt alarmingly…
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Post by Beak on Jun 21, 2024 22:19:38 GMT -5
Beak is glad for the restraint, because she would have ran toward her girlfriend upon hearing that second scream, upon seeing her impaled by that... that... that. She even squirms and thrashes against the grip of Beak and Nev during the worst of it... not truly fighting against them to free herself, not truly, because she was trying as hard as she could to restrain herself as well. She just... she just needed the extra reassurance, to know that they were helping her with even that small token resistance.
... But once Rena starts to fall, the difference between "trying to stay put and still squirming a little" and "actually trying to reach her" becomes apparent. The part of the ritual she couldn't interrupt is over now, and her girlfriend is about to fall, and the newborn with her....
"Rena!" Beak's shout is telepathic but no less loud than she could do had she still had her vocal cords, her martial artist speed on full display as she sprints toward her beloved, catching her as she falls, guiding all of them--Beak, Rena, the newborn, Nev and Bell have undoubtedly followed--to the ground more gently. Safely. "Rena... Rena! RENA!!"
No, no, no, it wasn't supposed to be like this... it was a state transition, that's all... she told herself... that's why she supported this....
There's a rational part of Beak's mind that's aware she's probably overreacting... that her beloved is likely just... resting. That was... not an easy or gentle thing, to die, to become undead, after all. Of course she would collapse at first, of course she would need a few moments before she opens her eyes again....
That rational part of her mind is no match whatsoever for the pure blind panic response when seeing her girlfriend unconscious--even if only for a few seconds--after witnessing that. Fearing the worst, she cradles Rena in her lap, rocking ever so gently... and... sings. It's not something she's ever done before. It's not any kind of special hidden power, either; nothing magical happens, no energies form or twist or do anything at all in response to her voice. It's just... sentimental. An old Ibekki song, sung gently, sweetly, like a lullaby even if the lyrics would sound more desperate to those who spoke the language. A simple sad love song, really. Entertainment, for the most part... but now, she's pouring her very soul into every word, wanting more than anything in the world for the soothing words to reach Rena through everything weighing her down.
"Sik tur sigtaj sos kun, kintug kubik rek nor, ges nes dedaj tek sun....
... Dongek ses raj koskor...."1
The others don't need any kind of clues to know instantly what the shorting of her telepathic signal--that static that happens when she's too emotionally overwhelmed to focus on maintaining a clear and uninterrupted broadcast--is from this time.
1 With the obvious understanding that the rhyming scheme and syllable count/meter are lost in translation, the literal meaning would be,
"If your pen has run dry, Please, borrow mine if you must, Or let me write for both of us... Just don't let our story end."
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Post by Rena Brighteyes on Jun 21, 2024 22:49:34 GMT -5
…she’s cold in Beak’s arms. Her chest doesn’t rise or fall as the last remnants of that spike finish sinking into her chest, as the living egg in her hand lets out a tapping, a tapping, and a crack followed by desperate, frantic cheeping to mirror that of the newly born skelechick…
…Rena lies there, cold and unmoving in her girlfriend’s arms, her eyes replaced by twin holes of empty, ravenous black, not a spark of gently shining silver or blazing caustic white to be seen…
…Bell and Nev step up, Nev gently taking the newborn Somber Hum and Morning Chimes from their mother’s arms and gently rocking them with soft, soothing coos and trills, cobalt eyes full of barely contained worry and panic, calmed only slightly by the way the hatchlings calm at eachother’s touch. This wasn’t supposed to happen. They’d done the research, studied every scroll and tome and carving they could get their hands on, and this wasn’t supposed to happen.
…when Rena wakes up, it’s not a gradual thing. There’s no stirring, no fluttering of her eyelids, no soft groan…in the place of all that, her eyelights simply…flare to life, rings of caustic white light suddenly occupied her newly empty sockets, slowly fading to silver as she stares up at the starry night sky for a long moment before, “...well. That hurt…” and then spectral tears of silver light begin to well up from the corners of her sockets before spilling down as she begins to shake, eye lights unfocused and glazed as she gazes unseeing up at the stars...
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Post by Beak on Jun 21, 2024 23:09:57 GMT -5
It's likely for the best that Beak was too focused on cradling and singing to her girlfriend to so much as look back on Bell and Nev. The only thing keeping her sane through those few tense moments with Rena lying there unresponsive, cold, dead was her telling herself that she was probably overreacting, that the Blackfeathers knew what they were doing, that this was all supposed to happen... if she'd seen the look of concern in their eyes, known for even a second that no, it wasn't, actually... well. That... wouldn't have ended well.
Fortunately, the long and panicked wait ends before that can happen.
"Oh, Rena... thank the stars... Rena... Rena...."
For a few long moments, the sound of weeping is all that one can hear from Beak's Messaging. There are no tangible physical tears that can come from a skull, of course, but the feeling, the sensation, and, of course, the sound... one senses that were the lizard gently cradling the crow's head in her lap able to produce tears, Rena would be positively soaked by now.
"Rena... do you hear that? Listen...." She tries her best to tone down her crying, or at least to stop sending it--the rare upside of having to rely on telepathy for communication, she supposes, is that she can always just turn it off. And with that, what's left is the frantic peeping and cheeping, each tiny sound competing with the ones before and after it, attempting to drown the others out, to be heard above the solid wall of baby bird sounds.
"You did it, Rena... they're here...."
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Post by Rena Brighteyes on Jun 21, 2024 23:36:14 GMT -5
Rena continues shaking, shifting around to press against and cling to her girlfriend as those silent tears transform into quiet sobs, her eyelids squeezing shut as she lets out a choked whimper, “...I’m sorry, loves I’m so, so sorry-” she breaks off as she registers the cheeping of the newborns, eyes snapping open and locking onto the twin, tiny forms cradled in Nev’s arms, shaky hands reaching out for her little ones, her hatchlings, her babies...and when Nev gently hands them to her she cradles them close, pressing against Beak as she smiles, then begins to laugh even as those silver tears continue to stream down her cheeks, “...it…it worked…I actually…it worked...” she trills softly, gently nuzzling each of the newborns before taking out a cloth to begin cleaning them off, “...’s okay, little ones…’s okay, lort’yrlr s’no…I’ve got you…mama’s got you…I’m here…you’re safe now…we’ve got you…”
Bell and Nev coo softly, their eyes softening as they watch their bondmate nestle into their girlfriend’s arms and cradle their newborn children to her chest…the two spirits gently sit on either side of their girlfriend, nuzzling against Beak’s neck - Nev - and arm - Bell - as they slowly relax…and then Nev blinks, something clicking in their head as they look down to Rena, “...why’re ye sorry, love?”
The newly minted lich is silent for a long moment before she speaks, “...this…the rite we decided on…it wasnae goin’ t’ work. So…so I used a different one, even knowing that…that it’d put me in direct contact with N’hil…” she shudders, fresh tears spilling from her sockets, “...I…I couldn’t risk failing here…”
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Post by Beak on Jun 21, 2024 23:44:20 GMT -5
"Rena...?"
That... wasn't what Beak was expecting to hear. That wasn't what Beak wanted to hear. She tries to remain calm... she reminds herself that whatever happened, it worked. Rena's here. She's a lich, yes, but the rest of the family all knew that was going to happen, even with the originally planned rite, had it worked. She's here. She's not... gone. And the babies... there's something so strangely soothing about that chorus of peeps. She feels more than fond of the little ones already. It's going to be the hugest honor of her life to induct them....
This is all good news. This is a joyous occasion. Whatever Rena did, it worked. That bears celebrating.
But....
She has to know. She doesn't know N'hil as well as the others do, but from what she's been told, there's always a catch. Always something that makes this deal worse than the rite they'd all agreed on.
"What... did you do, Rena...?"
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Post by Rena Brighteyes on Jun 22, 2024 1:08:41 GMT -5
Rena shivers a little, letting out a choked laugh, “...it…I…I had…it wanted…” she shudders, eye lights going distant once again, “...it wanted inside...” she presses against Beak, those silver eye lights briefly flickering, the hungry black of her sockets seeming to subtly shift, “...it’s in here, now…can feel it squirming next to my curse…” she presses closer, gentle talons tracing over each hatchling’s foreheads as she trills softly…
Bell and Nev share a worried glance as the spirits piece together what their bondmate’s just done to herself, the fate she’s doomed herself to for the sake of their children…deals with The Forgotten never ended well, that much is true, but the cost usually involved something important being taken by the hungry black, rather than having a piece of that abyss embedded into one’s own being…
…Rena trills softly again, gently cooing to the cheeping newborns with a fond smile on her face, “...welcome t’ the world…I look forward t’ seein’ the tales ye weave, Hum…Chime…” her eyelights unfocus slightly once more, and it’s…pretty clear at this point that she’s far from fully recovered from her ordeal…the silver eyed crow shivers a little at the deep, aching chill that now pervades her being, a far cry from the mere chill of her curse…
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Post by Beak on Jun 22, 2024 1:37:31 GMT -5
... All right. They... they can work with that... probably... hopefully... at the very least, they'll have time to work with that. What this means going forward, if any precautions need to be taken, if anyone needs to worry, and more, they can worry about that some other day. After Rena's slept and rested and is back to her old self, at the very least... well, hopefully she'll be back to her old self, anyway.
In the meantime, she's here. The chicks are here. Rena's words... Hum and Chime... the tales they will weave....
Their tales.
The book.
There is one more thing this family needs to do tonight. This one won't involve any more dying or dark deals or scaring the daylights out of each other, though... this is a celebration of life.
"Let's give those tales they weave a place to be written down, shall we?"
Beak looks up to the stars, making sure they're back and the night is clear. Yes. Good. There should be no obstructions at all; just the clearest path from here all the way through the stars and beyond. As it should be. She nods to Bell to bring the ashkeepers and light the forge for when it's time to seal them, and to Nev for the stylus and leaves... oh, she'll need a small ranged source of fire, about the size of a stick of incense but used more as a very small torch....
She looks down at Hum and Chimes, Rena's babies, the ones she clawed out from the jaws of nothingness, at an even greater cost than any of them had assumed... and she gives them a reverent nod. "I hope that whatever may be in store for you, little ones... you never, ever forget how much your mother cherishes you. How far she went, and would go again, just for you."
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