She had told them. Perhaps it was immature for the immortal one to be holding a grudge against the originals so hard that she wasn’t going to leave them to their fate with the creature, but what choice did she have? She’d offered to help in the resistance by giving information to the council, but the acting chairman had been more than clear that what she offered was not desirable. Go join the king’s guard in fighting, Zed had suggested, as though Styx were at all likely to pick up a weapon and fight. She was not beneath the council and if the originals were going to sit around and let the ordinary fairies fight the battles until the sky crumbled, so would she. And she would continue to sit and watch and say not a word as the war raged on.
Sitting gave her time to reflect, something she’d done much of in her lifetime. Reflection was the key to harnessing magic, especially psychic magic, and it was in her reflections that she could see all of shaman. The different fairies living their lives in blissful ignorance of the coming storm, and of even the good things they were missing. Such as the cheerful (so annoyingly cheerful), happy-go-lucky girl with her mule familiar and her the piece of her that was lost.
Styx had been like her once, missing a piece of herself without knowing what she lacked. It was similar to an ordinary fairy whose familiar had been dead for so long the fairy had forgotten what it was like to have the entire soul completed. Though Styx wished not to interfere with the passage of time, she had no problem with completing the girl. After all, this Reece was not someone with whom the immortal one had a quarrel.
The oracle waited patiently for the perfect time to make her intentions known to the fairy and familiar pair. It seemed that fairies were often stubborn in accepting offers of aid, even when the offered help was genuine and providing advice of pure truth. Familiars, as lesser parts of the soul, were usually more easily convinced. So it was to Wefios, not Reece, that Styx reached out, beaconing the pair to come to here when they could. And until then, she would wait.
Avoiding the chaos of the castle in its battle against the ancient creature had become more difficult as time passed, and Styx found herself wandering to the still reflecting pool at the pantheon in an attempt to get away from the hustle and bustle of knights and messangers. Especially once her magic disappeared and her connection to Noctis was severed, Styx felt the need to meditate. Even with the knowledge that it would not help, she had developed the habit long ago to find calm relief when her powers faltered. However, the loud splash not so far away was hardly serene, and Styx turned to face the mule and his girl, both of whom she recognized.
“So you finally come. I suppose I should welcome you, but that would take precious time from your journey.” “Zed, we should talk.”
image © paul bica @ flickr.com |
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