RP All Come Down

annasiel

annasiel

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In the heights of the Skytouched Spire, two bells rung - one of silver and one of gold.

They were very different bells. The golden one was ornate, wrought out of intricate, spiraling strands of metal, almost as if whoever had crafted it had used a loom instead of a hammer. The sound it made when it rung was clear, cheerful, warm. The other bell was simpler - it was plain, not even polished, and as it swung on its perch, its song came out in a deep, cold gong. There were many ways to ring these bells. Traditions as old as the city itself, with customs so complex only the belltenders truly had a grasp on what any of them meant. This one, though, was known by all - The Festival of the Crossing was upon them.

Of course, the people of Domu Solus didn't need the bells to tell them that. They'd been planning for weeks, now. Vendors making sure their most popular wares were stocked in droves, city patrol ensuring public spaces were safe and clear, children hiding under blankets late at night whispering about how many pieces of candied stars they were going to eat before they grew sick from the sugar. It was the sort of thing everyone looked forward to, when it came. The Sun and Moon would dance together in the sky, and their children would dance below, and all worries would be forgotten, at least for one night.

Imani hated the fact she couldn't be a part of it.

Not that she was ungrateful. She'd been training with the astrologers since she was a child. The fact they trusted her to tend to the Astrolabe - especially during such an important day - was wonderful. And, of course, it wasn't as if the other astrologers were going down to the festival to have fun. They, like the belltenders, had their own rituals to attend to. Holy rites, prayers to the heavens, readings of the rigid starpaths for good harvests to come. Always good harvests, with their fates locked tight by the Astrolabe, but people liked to be reminded of their blessings. People liked to be reminded that everything was going to be alright.

She slouched in her chair in the corner of the room, tiny glasses sliding a bit down her sharp, hawkish nose. She pushed them back up with her pinky finger, then looked up, watching the arms of the Astrolabe spin around the ceiling of the observatory with a steady mechanical hum. It was always impressive, at least. No matter how long she spent here, she always felt a bit of joy looking at it. Not only the intricate machinery, the spindle-like struts that darted and wove around the model Earth, nor the spheres set with runes that seemed more art than science that - no matter how much the thing seemed to turn - were always held in the self-same place. It was the whole of it. The way it blended perfectly with the architecture of the room, the way everything seemed to flow around it, bits of the device seamlessly dancing through bookshelves, staircases, and columns.

Rubbing at her vestments - oversized gold and black robes that somehow made her seem even more frumpy than she already was - she rose from her chair, lifting her arms in the air in a stretch. She could hear the Sun and Moon bells ringing outside, which meant the Festival was just about to begin. It had likely already technically begun - merchants set up in the morning, and events went on throughout the day - but it only truly began when the Moon and Sun brushed each other in the sky. And, true to the bells, the tiny figurines of both on the Astrolabe above were drifting closer and closer together.

Imani watched and waited.
 
"The end is nigh!"

"The end is upon us, the judgment of the stars."

"Judgment! For the sins of humanity! For the sins of the Sun and the Moon! The Law of the Heavens shall mete out our punishment, and it shall be death! Death unto the Sun! Death unto the moon! Death unto all who walk the defiled earth!"

"By our celestial sins, we shall be sundered."

"The time is now! The Four Benevolent Gates shall close, their gentle winds no longer a balm to humanity! The Eight Gates of Destruction shall stand open, and through them comes our devastation!"

"We welcome the gale, we bow before the hurricane, we- Sarielle! Psst! Pay attention!"

On this day of great judgment, this comment was not just, as Sarielle Leviat was paying attention. She knew the great scriptures by heart, knew the call-and-response perfectly, and had even been saying it with everyone else at the right time. She had also been looking around the square at some of the decorations, which was probably what Elder Raphaela was upset about.

Sarielle thought it was a bit of a shame not to look around, since they were all going to die today anyway, but she was careful to keep this thought to herself, though she did wonder what that would mean, given that she wouldn't have time to confess the thought properly, given the imminent end of the world. She was also, equally privately, a little bit dissatisfied that the heavenly judgment had to happen this year. This year was her thirteen-and-eight, demarking that after today she would finally be considered an adult - or would have been, were the world not ending. Ordinarily she would have been expected to go out into it like any other young woman her age and return once she'd gotten with child, which didn't seem like it would be particularly difficult. She rather pitied the young men; they were supposed to come back with a bride and not just a baby. Her elder brother Uriah had been gone two years already trying to find someone to bring back to the faith.

Sarielle also privately thought this might have more to do with Uriah than with the faith. He had always been... very fervent. She had thought a great deal of him when she had been younger, but at some point she had stopped finding him impressive and started finding him irritating. Remiah was her age exactly, and she didn't think he'd have any trouble finding a bride. Of course, if he brought one back before Uriah, there would be drama-

-But no, there wouldn't, because the world was ending. Remi caught her eye and rolled his heavenward, an unspoken agreement on the creche-mothers not being all too willing to admit that their charges had grown up. Sarielle kept her expression carefully neutral, because Elder Raphaela was still watching her like a suspicious old cat, the sort that suspects someone might be having fun somewhere and refuses to allow it in her territory.

"I was just thinking about all the poor souls out there who can't hear our message," Sarielle murmured quietly. Well, she hadn't been, but now she was. What was going to happen to them, when they all died? Well, she knew what would happen to them, they'd be cast down into the pits with the nephilim like they deserved, but that was what was happening to everyone, it was just a matter of which ones of them knew it was coming. She thought about her- well, she couldn't call them friends, because they weren't of the faith, but her acquaintances in town. She had a few of them, from when she was a little girl, and she'd tried to explain the Law of the Heavens to them, but... it hadn't gone well.

Although, they had explained some things to her as well. It had been very interesting, probably in ways that Elder Raphaela didn't approve of. Once again, Sarielle reminded herself that she was an adult now and didn't actually have to listen, but many years of habit were hard to break.

Finally, the descriptions wound down - drought, heat, destruction; cold and more drought; rain, locusts, and devastation; more rain, locusts, and devastation (Sarielle always thought that the third and seventh gates being the same was a bit strange, but this was another of those unshared thoughts); mist, hoarfrost, snow, rain, dew, and locusts (locusts seemed to show up in a lot of places); more dew and rain and hoarfrost and cold and snow and frost (not the same as hoarfrost); and then drought and devastation, burning and destruction.

The scripture never specified what was supposed to come out of the other two of the Eight Gates of Destruction, which was a matter of great theological debate and there were many people looking forward to finding out, for some definition of looking forward. Plague and vermin were popular theories, though Sarielle had always liked the more outlandish ones, like that one of the gates led to a dead star that pulled everything into its own void. Uriah said to guess was also a sin and that they should accept the unfathomable nature of the gods and know that if the scripture had meant for them to understand, it would be written... but that was Uriah. Remi thought it was probably just more locusts, but she didn't think he was entirely serious. He rarely said what he really thought.

Sarielle supposed she didn't either. The Profession of the End had, well, ended, which meant it was time to go forth and see if they could bring the faith to anyone else in these last few hours before everyone died. Perhaps she'd go up to the astrologer's tower - it wasn't far from here, and she knew that Imani was supposed to be watching over things on her own tonight.

Sarielle couldn't change that any more than she could change the end of the world, but at least she could see to it that Imani didn't die alone.
 
"That's the thing about the Crossing Festival, right? Everyone's so excited for the celebrations, it's like... so easy. Everyone expects you to be on your best behavior, so you just walk around, all smiles, maybe help someone lift something..."

That was a thought better left unfinished. Thankfully, whoever could have been listening in likely couldn't hear their voice above the clamoring of the bells, the signal that the festival was soon to officially start. The streets were already busy- in truth, they had been for hours, if not a whole day, prior. People milled the streets, moving from cart to cart, laughing, talking, singing songs and making merry. The festival was always a time for everyone to come together, a time of happiness and joy.

"... I mean, it's not like I won't pay him back or anything, yeah? It's just borrowing..."

Incidentally, it was also a time when people weren't paying the best attention. Khavakri loved the the Festival of the Crossing, ever since they were a little girl, but the reasons had changed over the years. Used to be it was the time when she was allowed to roam Solus, see the sights, sing along with the songs. Now, it was because people didn't expect them to be up to their usual tricks. People expected the best, and as far as they knew, they got it. Would old Delmon miss a single bottle?

"... I'll pay him back."

She was talking to herself again. She was already free of the crowd, or the most of it, and anyone else nearby wasn't paying her any mind. It was a habit they'd picked up as a kid, something to help her focus on her very important training to be an astrologer, and something to occupy the mind and make the quiet hours at night feel less alone. It'd stuck, and gotten them in trouble more than once.

The tower was basically empty. They knew the observatory would be as well- no one but Imani. They'd passed off the hint to Sari that she'd be alone up there tonight, and that they weren't quite sure they'd be able to make it- which was a lie, but just a little white one, something to encourage someone other than themself to pay a visit.

Khava slipped in through the front doors, nearly silent in spite of their boots, and made way for the stairs. On the way up, they listened hard, for other people and for the music from the festival. She checked over her own lute, slung along her back, checked the bottle to make sure it was holding its chill, peeked into the bag they'd picked up from a bakery along the way, just to make sure everything was together. With each step, their smirk got wider, turning into a mischievous grin, even as their heart began to beat a little faster. The observatory wasn't their favorite place in the world, and she didn't come back often outside of stopping by to talk to Imani- tonight would almost definitely be the longest they'd stayed in a while.

Then, finally, just as her legs were starting to burn, Khavakri found herself at the doors. She knocked, chiming in with a "Helloooo!" before allowing herself inside.
 
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"Spare a few men for a patrol along the southern ramparts of the castle. Baker's wife says a batch was lifted from one of their shelves; a thief could be making rounds."

High Marshal Duncan Aynach was a towering figure, even as he sat behind a desk; though he didn't have the sheer size or brawn that would bely a warrior of repute, the Marshal possessed a temperament and look about him that suggested he ought to be someone, or somewhere,
important. The latter, currently, was the farthest thing from true, seeing as he was currently managing records while the rest of his men were out directly, or indirectly, participating in the festival.

"Beyond that, inform the current patrols that they'll be relieved of their duties in an hour. I want the second shift to be ready the moment the first concludes-- not before, and not after." While the Marshal's candor was often the man's defining quality amongst the elite of Domu Solus, his most outwardly recognizable trait was the well-groomed bit of facial hair he possessed; while his moustache covered most of his upper lip, it was a useful signifier of the Marshal's patience-- chiefly by whether or not it twitched, ever-so-slightly, in annoyance.

"Mm. And the Astrolabe? There's been reports of vagrants loitering about. Children playing, the like. And the town guard, well-- they're enjoying the night..."

Like now. His lip quirked, and he said nothing for a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose and sighing as his fingertips gently massaged the anger from his face. His nostrils flared, and he nodded. "I'll take a look around. The astrologers ought to be responsible for their property, but if they've complained to us, they'll complain again." They were palace guard, after all. But it was better than sitting here, of all places, and so the High Marshal stood from his desk before collecting his sword and gambeson.

The night air was refreshing, at least. Good to get his mind off of the festival, even with the prattle ringing in the distance.
 
The observatory structure was a spectacle in and of itself. While certainly not as sprawling as Kingshold, with its cluster of white spires and bright blue rooftops overlooking Domu Solus from above, it certainly did its best to stand out. The sides of the principal tower were marked with a lattice of gold, spiraling upward, windows breaking the pattern at almost haphazard intervals. From a distance, it gave the impression of ivy. From close, though -

It gleamed in the sun.

Leading upward, where any normal tower would end in a sloped or conical roof, this one was a massive dome, one slice cut out of it to house an ornate window decorated with the same latticed gold as the rest of the structure. All around the tower, smaller buildings clustered, living accommodations, classrooms, and research facilities, like clusters of mushrooms growing around the roots of a tree. Normally, this little city within the city was bustling with astrologers and academics alike, but today, it was a ghost town.

Footsteps echoed leading into the observatory proper. Inside, staircases spiraled upwards to the rafters, bookcases struck sporadically between them, and most imposing of all, the massive, sweeping arms of the astrolabe as it wound its way overhead. Imani perked up as Khava knocked, her hello seeming to fill the room even from the other side of the door. As it opened, she broke into a grin.

"Khava!"

Pushing up her glasses again, she lifted herself from her chair, moving in to give her friend a hug.

"What in stars' name are you doing here? Shouldn't you be at the festival?"

She didn't bring it up, but that included a silent and not supposed to be here as well. While the observatory wasn't strictly off limits, it wasn't exactly the sort of place you walked into without approval, and Khava wasn't exactly the sort of person that was typically approved.
 
Khavakri responded in kind, an arm moving out from beneath her cloak to meet Imani's hug with one of their own. In response to the question, she dangled a basket in front of her with that very arm, the smell of fresh-baked bread and pastries evident. She grinned.

"Should be. Depending on who you ask, I should be with the other astrologers, doing the prayers. But! I figured it'd be a better use of my time to keep the lone watchwoman company, and I figured you'd be hungry."

With a quick scan of the room, she confirmed what she thought would be true, and what almost certainly always was: every table was stacked to the ceiling with books, so cluttered there was hardly room for a person to use it. Khava hadn't been here in a while, and yet somehow it was always exactly the same as they'd left it. They strode over to the nearest, and least cluttered, shoving a stack of books to the side to make room for basket and bottle, before leaning against the table to look back to her friend.

There was a pointed effort to not look at the astrolabe, as ubiquitous as it was. That infernal machine was the reason they weren't allowed in the observatory anymore. Indirectly, at least.

"So they're having you keep watch now? Big step up. Do you have to dress like you're a hundred when you do, though?" A loaf of bread was produced from the basket, and Khava took a bite, glancing around the observatory once more. "Oh, also, Sarielle should be stopping by, too. Told her you were gonna be all alone up here, so I figure she'll make the extra effort to show up. Drink?"
 
Imani stared down at the robes, biting her lip, shoulders slumping with a mild humph.

"A hundred is cruel. I'd say I don't look a day over eighty, at least. Certainly still in my prime." She smiled slightly. "And besides, it helps for telling off people for doing things they're not supposed to, when on watch. Everyone fears the wrath of a crone."

She trailed behind Khava, arms slipping back into her vestments to wrap around her torso. She watched as the other girl made space, setting the makeshift picnic down, not protesting immediately - but obviously a little uncertain of the whole thing.

"Khava, we really should eat in here -" she began, but her stomach growled. The scent of fresh bread wafted out of the basket, growing stronger as Khava pulled out a loaf and took a bite. Imani sighed. "Yes please. I haven't eaten since sunrise."

Pulling up a chair from one of the other desks, she sat down, patting her robes.

"Sarielle really shouldn't be in here either, you know. Especially not today. I could get in quite a bit of trouble."
 
-I could get in quite a bit of trouble- That had been Imani's voice. It wasn't the one Imani used when she was talking to herself, either, which meant hopefully it was Khava here and not someone else.

Although, on thinking about it, it didn't really matter, did it? Sarielle knocked lightly at the entrance to the upper floor, more to announce her presence than to request permission. It was polite, after all.

It was also polite not to mention that Imani wasn't really going to have time to get in trouble, because the world was about to end, and if somehow she managed to get in trouble before that happened, it was unlikely that the consequeces would be particularly long-reaching. It wasn't that Sarielle didn't know it was true, it was just that her friends... talked about different things. They were some of the only people Sarielle could really talk to different things about, and she didn't want to ruin that. Not even on the last day.

"Hi." Quietly, as she entered. Oh, good, it was Khava after all - that meant there wouldn't be any trouble, unless someone had followed them in or someone else had a reason to be here. Sarielle hoped she hadn't been followed - the last thing she needed was Elder Rebeccah interrupting this meeting and demanding Sarielle go preach to the unconverted.

Although, Sarielle supposed she was an adult now and Khava and Imani were unconverted-

She could very clearly picture Elder Rebeccah's expression if told that particular evasion, and it wasn't one she wanted to see in person. She just had to avoid it for a few more hours, and then it wouldn't matter any more. Besides, she was fairly sure no one from the Faith had followed her here - she'd been keeping an eye out for them, after all.

"Are you going to get in trouble, Imani? It's nice up here..." Not quiet - she could still hear the bells - but quieter, with less people all around. That would definitely be better, when the end came. It was going to get bad, down there. It wouldn't matter for very long, but it would be bad for a little while. "Did I miss anything yet?"
 
Khavakri's grin widened, and seemingly without ever even reaching into the basket, produced a roll, lightly buttered and still warm, for Imani. They took a bite from their own as hers was taken, and as they reached back into the basket once more, they said, "Since sunrise? They're basically starving you! Is it for some spiritual reason that I've been left in the dark about since leaving, or has it just been that busy?" As she spoke, a pair of glasses were pulled from the basket, and soon followed by a bottle of cherry wine from beneath her cloak.

The glasses were, admittedly, not very large. To anyone who knew, they were clearly from a bar, and the odds were that they were only Khava's because she had them with her right now, and not because she actually owned them. She began pouring herself a drink, before motioning to the empty glass. "I know it looks bad, but these are the only ones I had. This stuff isn't heavy, either, just enough to taste good." Despite their explanation, they waited to pour, and were soon interrupted by the door.

Instinctually, they moved to hide, dropping from where they'd been sitting on the table to halfway behind a stack of books, but the voice that followed let them rise back to their full height and put their signature smirk back on. "Sari! Glad you could make it." Another glass all but appeared on the table. "Nah, haven't missed anything. I just got here. And, for what it's worth, for you to get in trouble, we'd have to get caught." She followed the statement with a laugh, and a drink.
 
Imani shook her head with a slight smile.

"Evar was supposed to be on watcher's duty in the morning, but he wanted to spend time with his family before tonight's rites. Agrego had already made plans, Fjelva wasn't available to ask, and well - the speakers have to prepare the whole day for their duties, and I wouldn't ask any emeritus to take up the sash when it really isn't much of an emergency. So they asked me if I could cover watcher's duty for the morning, and -"

She didn't say no. It was a problem with Imani - even when she knew better, she had trouble turning anything down. She shrugged, oversized sleeves flopping.

"No eating in the observatory, and I didn't feel right slipping out and leaving the astrolabe alone, if even for a moment." Taking one of the glasses gratefully, she glanced back at the massive, swinging mechanical rings above them. "It'd be doing it a disservice, I think."

The young astrologer perked up a bit as another person entered - someone who, even when considering how little Khava should've bene here, was even less welcome. Maybe even a danger, in the eyes of some, knowing the faintest of her beliefs and tenets. Would any sane mind allow those who pray for foxes come to guard the henhouse? Not Imani, though - Imani trusted Sari with her life.

"Sari! No, we're not in trouble," Imani said, then, after a moment's consideration, added a tiny "yet."

Still, she couldn't help but smile a little wider. She'd thought she was doomed to spend this night of all nights alone - a celebration of relationships, of togetherness, of connection - but her friends had come through. It made her feel warm, or maybe that was just the few sips she'd had so far of the wine.

"...what do you mean, miss anything? Did you two have plans?"
 
Of course, everyone else was busy. It's the festival, I need to spend time with my family, I can't do it, I'm too busy preparing the rites- it made her eyes roll. Of course, Khava made sure to look away before they did, for Imani's sake. Their disproval of the entire affair didn't have to be put on her shoulders, especially when she was just doing what she thought she was supposed to do. At the mention of the astrolabe, though, she looked up, watching as the rings spun in silent harmony.

She had several opinions on the device. It ran on it's own, mostly. Did it need someone to watch it? The outcomes were always the same, why did it require so much attention, so much that someone would be trapped alone in the observatory during a celebration all about friends and family? Did it even do anything? She'd not seen anything convincing that it did, not in her lifetime. It just spun, gliding through the air with hardly a sound, the centuries-old runes glowing a faint gold.

They'd become fully lost in thought, right up until Imani asked a question. "Huh?" They blinked, twice, before the words finally made it through. Right, plans. She shook her head, followed by a quick bite, before speaking. "Nah, not really. I thought I might, but then I thought about how sad and lonely you'd be up here watching the rings, so I cleared my schedule for the night- at least, until some of the others start showing up again. I would rather not have to tell old Vernworth why I'm up here."
 
Sarielle came fully into the room, taking a seat on the floor and then leaning back, watching the rings spin overhead. She was very familiar with the models, of course - it was important, for the predictions and all. Still, the great astrolabe was something special, somehow.

"I... wanted to have plans," Sarielle admitted, with a little bit of a shrug. She wasn't supposed to complain. What was the point of complaining, when the world was going to end? It wouldn't change anything. Still, ordinarily there would have been a celebration, a send-off, something. And then she'd have gone and found someone else to celebrate with and figured out the world. That was the way it was supposed to be. Learn the heavens, then learn the world.

There just wasn't much point in learning a world that was about to end, as they had said.

No, she wasn't going to complain. Think differently. "...Thank you." There, that was better. "For... asking me up here. Maybe it counts as having a plan, after all."
 
Imani snorted, almost spitting out her wine. She almost rubbed at her lips with the back of her sleeve, then realizing what she was about to stain, quickly folded back the sleeve and did it on the inside instead.

"Vernworth doesn't even come in anymore, Khava. He told the board his research was better suited for a quiet atmosphere. Prophetic dreaming - I bet it's just an excuse for him to sit around and nap all day."

She grinned.

"I'm glad you're here. Both of you. This is - well, it isn't much of a plan, because plans require planning, and knowing Khava she more just got the whim in her head and didn't question it for a moment! But - I appreciate it." She took another sip and set down the glass. "Truly."

Outside, loud whooping and cheering cut through the night. The festivities would have started, then. Tumbling acrobats and fire-eaters and storytellers and magicians. Imani sighed.

"Crumb."
 
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