daybreakacademy | At Journey's End

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At Journey's End

A.

[ What alerts certain people to Vivi's absence is not Vivi himself, but a gangly chocobo chick that has been doing a great deal of growing thanks to his care in the last few months. It 'kwehs' its way around campus in great distress, without its owner anywhere to be seen. ]

B.

[ Catching up with Vivi, even with his head start, isn't a difficult task. With the amount of energy he has left, even in the Outlands where Mist is abundant, the journey he's making is draining on more than one level.

Mostly because the place he's walking through, dragging himself step by step to some unknown destination, is alien even by Outlands standards.

Memories shimmer around the strange crystal structures that protrude from as if they're being reflected from him. The friends who have gotten him this far, the fights that have burned themselves into his memory, the simple things that brought him happiness...

Most of them - almost all of them - involve other people. Rare are the ones that are by himself.

He's not trying to hide himself, or his slow progress. He hums tunelessly at times, some kind of exhausted dirge born of forcing himself to keep moving. ]

C.

[ Wildcard! If you want to have threads with Vivi acting noticeably weird/drained/nervous I am down for that, just let me know. ]

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[The walk along path wasn't exactly leisurely, the hard crystal making each footfall sound strange, and unearthly. But how... calm this whole realm is in itself fairly strange. By all accounts, that castle was... just a crystal castle.

But being surrounded by visions of memories, quiet voices, whispers of familiar shades emanating from the very formations around them? It was ethereal, and a little unreal, but... comfortable? A reflection of better times, channeling a calm, loving spirit. So many familiar faces and voices, even their own. Alien as this world was... it somehow felt familiar and even comfortable thanks to Vivi's memories.

...It didn't help with the building lump in the young man's throat, though if nothing else, it meant that Vivi's time with all of them was treasured.]

Vivi's resonating with all these crystals out here...? What kind of place is this?

[Was it a mirror into the soul?]

[It's a little eerie. Lia's quiet as she watches what's reflected into the crystal.]

It's... surprisingly calm.

[He pads quietly]

There's many theories about the Outlands - commonly, it's thought patches reflect the wish... or the soul of those dwelling within...

[Sherlock trails off, a gloved hand reaching to one of the crystals, but falling sort, precious memories - it'd be shameful to intrude with a careless touch, the moths gathering back to him]

There's so much light here...

[ Whether Sherlock thinks he's intruding or not, the memory doesn't seem to. The crystal that reflects Vivi's memories shimmers warmly as he reaches out to it.

As they continue on, the memories become more unfamiliar, stranger. No longer just Vivi's, they reflect faded experiences from unknown people - perhaps those who passed through, leaving traces of themselves behind. Strange landscapes and towering spires of an alien, organic city that looks like nothing built on Earth.

When the little group reaches the castle's doors, they swing open, silently, to reveal a vast entry hall that doesn't look dissimilar from the city reflected in the crystal.

They're being expected, it seems. ]

[The fact that they seem to be expected would be something a bit more concerning than this whole situation currently is, if not for the fact that Vivi had indicated that someone or something had called him here.

After making a few more glances around to observe some of the crystals for herself, Desi looks forward and starts to walk in, Vivi still riding on her back.]

[The mix of memories now jumbling together... so many different people from so many different places. Some of these landscapes are sprawling, beautiful in an unearthly sort of way, and a city made of living material... or at least, what passed for it. It would be scary for the inexperienced, but at this point, it's a curiosity. Who could've come from places like that? Just how many feet walked this path to this crystalline castle?...

Did its master have reach stretching so far across the Outlands that so many would take the journey here to see it?

He was quiet as the doors swung open. The warrior in him told him to be on guard. But the friend in him told him to trust in Vivi for now, and if he believed he should answer this call there would be a reason. And as a guest, it would not do to be hostile. He would be ready for it if need be.

Gunvolt rested a hand on Vivi's shoulder as they walked.]

Do you know the way we need to go, buddy?

[At the shimmer, he lets his hand settle, absentmindedly rubbing it as if patting Vivi himself, glancing over to see how he's holding up still before returning to their side]

There's a strange beauty to this place... I do wonder how long this place has existed.

[ Vivi doesn't appear to be getting more tired than he currently is, at least, which is some comfort. ]

Under the big stairs...there's a door. [ The grand entrance hall has an equally grand staircase, leading up to an intimidating first floor. All around them, the crystal whispers and shimmers with memories so faded that who and what they represent are indistinct silhouettes, traces of a long-lost past.

Under that staircase, the door that Vivi has identified is far less elegant in comparison; a practical thing, and well-used. It still towers in height, suggesting that whoever does use this door is quite a bit larger than any normal human.

The door swings open to permit them entry; the sight that greets them is a strange one. The vast room that sprawls before them is somewhere between a warmly lit workshop, a study, and a laboratory; crystals transferring what seem to be a refined version of Mist to locked containers sing in resonance. Strange people hurry to and fro between them, occupied with some task or other.

Two figures step out to greet them, standing tall. ]

Welcome, travelers from afar.

Are you here to speak with the Master?

[He wasn't sure what he was expecting when they walked into the great hall. It certainly was impressive, and in some ways, further humbling. Massive and imposing, the inside of the castle clearly belonged to someone very large. Nevertheless, Gunvolt's eyes followed the directions Vivi gave, the massive wooden door opening, revealing a massive workshop. Busy, bustling, thrumming with magic and work. That was something Gunvolt was a little more used to. Though... the Mist being refined and contained... was that...?

The boy looked up at the two figures who stepped outside of the lab to speak to them, and he gave a nod before glancing back over to Vivi on Desidera's back.]

...Our friend Vivi here says someone was calling to him. Think that the Master might be the one doing that?

[He can't shake a feeling of unease, but the cordial greeting was enough to make him think they weren't in danger, at least.]

[ They glance at the small figure and just nod. ]

It seems so.

Please follow us.

[ The path to their mysterious master isn't a long one. It does take several doors, but there is little notable about the path itself; all the interest comes from the activity buzzing on either side. Things are being made here; constructed, piece by piece, put together with care. Less impersonal and hurried than the failures crammed in jars, row by row. ]

Master. They're here.

[ A large figure stoops over a worktable, hands busy with something or other. They straighten to glance at their visitors, and make it very clear that the vastness of the workshop was built out of necessity, more than anything else.

This, too, is unmistakeably a daemon. But unlike most daemons, he seems to have no inclination to spring for the jugular. He has no menace about him at all, despite his size - though that may be its own sort of trick. ]

I see you, child, have made faithful friends. That may prove sorrowful.

[ Vivi fidgets, finally sliding down from Desi's back. He seems to have a little more strength here, in the presence of his apparent creator. ]

I tried, but they came anyway. [ He looks back at his friends. ] I think it's okay, though.

That is the way of things.

You understand that your life is soon over, yes? That is the terms of the contract, the time you were given...as were your siblings, and their siblings.

Were you content with the time you were given?

[ Vivi blinks, and looks nervous enough that he's having trouble answering, struggling between his desire not to be an inconvenience and his fear of death.

It might be worth trying to say something now, while there's a space for it. ]

[For awhile, Desidera remains quiet, but during the moments where Vivi is trying to decide how he wishes to answer that question, she starts having a few thoughts. It's clear enough that this daemon they're standing before already knows that they don't want to lose Vivi, though he might not necessarily know of the vain efforts that some of them had made in an attempt to delay the inevitable.

The Shadowling—as she'd been called once before, several months ago, by a vaguely-familiar creature whose identity she had never learned—focuses her gaze on the daemon, and then eventually she speaks, breaking the silence that fell after the question had been asked.]

Would...it be alright for us to know what those terms were? [Despite it arguably being a bad idea (and her very much being aware of that), she's very strongly considering the idea of asking if it would be possible to renegotiate on Vivi's behalf; it isn't like they have many options left, not at this point.]

[Gunvolt observes the workshop as they go, quiet and careful. It's strange; he isn't sure what to make of the jarred failures, but the careful meticulous construction suggests workers and engineers moving with great purpose. A powerful work ethic he found himself personally familiar with.

...He had to wonder. If this was where Vivi, and in fact all the other Black Mages, had been created, had such care been given to him too? It was curious... and why call him back now? Gunvolt's blue eyes glanced over to Desidera... and he had to admit, he didn't much like the idea of negotiating new terms, but...

He did have questions of his own.]

...And why you felt the need to even put a built-in expiration date on your creations in the first place?

Between Vivi and the other Black Mages we've met... they're all sentient people. All the ones we met just... want to live on, in peace. Why is it that they should just be made to die?

[Despite his convictions, Gunvolt's tone remains serious and respectful, looking up at the daemon without fear... and perhaps oddly, without anger. Vivi seems to trust his creator. And Gunvolt trusts in his friend. But those are the hard questions he needed to hear the answer to, and while he suspects no answer will ever truly be satisfactory, he wants to be able to understand these things.

Mortality and death were natural things. This, he knew, but...]

...You're a creator and an engineer too, right? Does it hurt you too, watching this happen?...

[His voice was quieter when he asked that, trying hard to keep his composure. Sorrowful, indeed.]

[The man brought up the rear, looking around, the work table, then at the Daemon, his body language, and tone, speaking to Vivi in such a quiet, and gentle manner.

Not someone that saw Vivi as only a tool]

There is much we do not understand, and as you might have guessed from our presence - we do not wish to see his life end so soon...

The contract was written for little servants, made of Mist. Flying here and there in small vessels. Created to serve for a year and a day, and other such hard timespans, set down by their masters - the ones who would take copies of the contract, and make their own servants from it. Once their purpose was served, they would dissipate back into the Mist that bore them, and rejoin its flow.

[ The daemon gazes at Vivi, who is looking up at him, listening to his words. ]

Who would give a mind to such a creation? Nobody with a conscience. Such fleeting, fragile lives, bound to service, would be little more than a tragedy.

[ The horned brow furrows in clear thought. ]

And yet these ones have hearts and minds regardless. Even those who did not succeed in being created still struggled to live, albeit briefly.

To be still bound by the contract's terms, but to grow in such a time...It has never happened before. To alter the master contract would be to potentially affect other mindless servants, and thrust them unwillingly into an awareness they would barely be equipped to handle.

So, I admit, I find myself at something of a loss as to what to do. When I create constructs, things without mind or heart, they are meant to stay that way. Not because I detest those things, you understand. But because I often have them do delicate or dangerous things, or things that are repetitive, as part of my other works. To give them a mind to be aware of that endless repetition, or the danger they could be in, would simply be cruelty, I think.

Edited 2021-01-30 16:48 (UTC)

[Gunvolt listens carefully, fully, and does not speak until the daemon finishes his explanation. Hearing the Creator speak of conscience and understanding, empathy, even, of the beings it worked on, and the compassion to understand that these potential lives being... well, dismal? In a sense, that makes the boy relax further, though it does nothing to ease the sadness he grappled with in his heart.]

...So what you made are usually more like simple automated assembly robots. But instead of technology and electricity, they worked on Mist and magic. And what happened with the Black Mages was... an accident? An unintended side effect?

[He hesitated, a jumble of thoughts trying to come together from so many different angles. It's complicated, but at the same time, he knows what he believes is right in his heart of hearts. It takes him a moment, eyes glancing over to his friend again, before looking back to the daemon, his expression oddly soft and thoughtful.]

Yeah, I understand why you're reluctant to do that. It's one thing to have something without sapience to do things like that, but it's something else to ask of that of a thinking, self-aware being. And why you'd have second thoughts about lifting the contract based on that.

I can't pretend to understand the nature of the Mist, unless you can enlighten us as to what it truly is. But knowing what little I do... I have to wonder? If it's the source of power and a critical essence of what most of your constructs are, and the bodies are just "shells"... is it possible that the Mist itself is why the Black Mages gained sentience?

Because if the failed experiments had a survival instinct and a desire to stay alive... wouldn't that suggest some level of sapience from word one?

[Lia's been quiet this whole time, stuck in her own head, thoughts chasing themselves in circles.

She's not sure what to make of all this, honestly. She glances over to Vivi, then to Gunvolt as he's speaking, then back to the daemon.

... She doesn't know what to say. But...]

I have to wonder the same thing as Gunvolt, I'll admit.

Mist is the lifeblood of the Outlands. It is a force, an element in itself. I suppose spontaneous development of life isn't impossible...

But there is, I think, something else responsible for this growth of sentience.

I am merely the original writer of the contract; I forged the template - what you, humans, might call the 'master copy'. What other creators do with it, how they might modify it for their own uses, is theirs alone, and no concern of mine...or so I thought.

This child here, and others like him, are the result of a pact sealed between humans and daemons. The contract was modified to allow for more ingredients...the fragments of lost souls, mixed together with Mist to create something new. No doubt they were intended to simply be more complex soldiers, but they created life instead...

[ The daemon shakes his head. ] Unlike this boy, I cannot call other daemons to me. Without them, the ones who were responsible for moulding him and his kindred, that contract cannot be changed.

But I believe there is another way, though it requires some sacrifice from each of you...It is an unusual method, but I believe it has enough power to make a difference.

Would you be willing to hear it?

Edited 2021-02-03 18:17 (UTC)

Yes. [Desidera answers immediately, without any uncertainty in her tone; if there's still a way to save Vivi, she's pretty sure that she's speaking for all of them here when she tells the daemon that they want to know what that way is.]

Absolutely.

[It's said at the same time Desidera answers...]

[He doesn't like the term "sacrifice" when used by a daemon regarding contracts, but...]

Yeah. Tell us.

[Knowing what the sacrifice is? That's free. And for Vivi, he might be more willing to take risks. He had a feeling the boy would do the same for him.]

A contract made fully aware, and willingly, in blood, can destroy one made in ink. Daemons rarely make such contracts, as it requires them to make a weakness in exchange; often it is unsafe to reveal that such a thing is possible.

If it was one of you alone, the power would not be enough. But with such a mix of beings, I believe it will have far more potency.

Of course, I will have to forge my own weaknesses, one for each of you. But I believe it is a fair price.

[ He looks down at Vivi, his look and voice grave. By this time, Vivi is beginning to doze, despite his best efforts; he's running low on time and energy. ] The root is, after all, my negligence.

[For a brief moment, Desi glances down to the bracelet on her left arm, a gift she'd received from Lia for her seventeenth birthday. For a majority of her time since she first came to the academy, Gunvolt, Monarch, Lia, and Vivi have effectively been her family in her eyes, and right here, right now, they're all being faced with the question of how far they're willing to go to save one of their own.

She looks back up.]

You said that it would involve a sacrifice from each of us. What would that be?

[Lia considers this carefully--

... except, no, not really. It doesn't take long to decide. If it means saving Vivi...]

... I'd like to know, too.

Your blood will be the sacrifice. Enough from each of you to mix, to write the contract in its entirety - it cannot be mixed with anything else, or the potency diminishes.

You will likely have scars to mark the donation. That is the way of such things, unfortunately, but I suppose it is fortunate that it is blood and not something more irreplaceable.

[... Oh.]

I'm in, then.

[Some blood's a small price to pay for a friend's life, as far as she's concerned.]

At Journey's End

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