IC: Midsummer Rising

[white_flowers]

Midsummer.

Longest day, brightest day, day of celebration for those of the Light and also of the Wild.

It will be a day of great power-- and had once marked the ending of the rising Dark in the world she had once called her own.

But here at the end of all the worlds, she intends to change things. The longest and brightest day it may be, but there is another side to it as well; for at the moment that the sun passes zenith, the time of Light also passes.

So begins the long slow fall into the Dark.

This time, the White Rider means to turn her carefully-gathered power to advantage at that precise moment, bringing the cycle to an entirely different ending -- for everyone.

She is smiling cruelly when she steps out of the forest and starts toward the bar, half-lost in her thoughts and her plans.

Comments

[young_tmriddle]

Tom blinks a moment, and then assumes a more relaxed mien. He's known Aziraphael a while now, after all, and he no longer has any need to fear angels.

"I shan't then, and I thank you for it." Then he grins. "No house this time, eh? The ending has come all the same."

He hasn't gotten a good look at Blodwen. He assumes she's dead. That's his most fervent hope, anyway.

[politestpirate.livejournal.com]

Wellard is trying hard not to stare at the Champion. He nods quickly, with a muttered, "yes sir." There is a quick glance over towards where Blodwen lays, before he continues approaching the others.

"... It is quite over, I do think. Is everyone else alright, however? Commodore?" To Merriman, with a concerned look to Will and Bran as well.

[theravenboy]

Bran pushes himself up on his elbow, breathless and wincing.

"Caliburn. Where..." Then he sees the sword, unharmed and unmarked, lying beside him on the ground. Bran reaches for it, biting his lip when he takes the hilt in his aching palm, and sheathes it in the scabbard without trying to stand up.

"I am fine. I will be. Thank you. Will? Merlion?"

[gramarye1971]

Merriman spares a brief glance down at his left arm, held close to his chest, and then looks over to where Will is stirring on the ground, carefully pulling himself together.

'Nothing harmed that Time will not mend, I should think,' he says. 'A small enough price to pay, in the end.'

To the Champion, he adds, 'And paid in full.'

[sign-seeker.livejournal.com]

Will has shoved himself up to one elbow, like Bran. There's a tightness around his eyes, like a suppressed wince, but his quick glances at Bran and Merriman are nearly normal.

"I'm all right. Or I will be."

He lifts a hand to shove back his hair -- moving, like all of them, rather more carefully than usual -- and then sets it on the ground again so he can use both hands to push himself up to a sitting position. It, again, is a much more careful process than usual, but he manages.

And then he looks up at the One's Champion, and for a moment even the throbbing headache fades in the quick blaze of delight that makes him grin up at the figure with the joy of boy and Old One both. The Champion's radiance is dimmed enough that the white-gold glow isn't painful now; only bright, and clear as starlight.

"Thank you," he says, and it comes out in the Old Speech.

[winged-defender.livejournal.com]

The Champion grins back at him with an expression that mirrors Will's: unimaginably ancient, and somehow eternally young at the same time.

"Thank you," he says in the Speech, inclining his head to Will. "You've done us a great deal of service too, you know. Never think it's not remembered."

He turns back to address the group. "I'm sorry there's no time for proper introductions, but I didn't bring much more energy to spend on staying, and I've got family to visit before I leave."

He bows to the assembled crowd, wings of pale fire sweeping back gracefully. "But - well done, all of you."

Light flares up again in blinding beauty, just for an instant, and when it clears he's gone.

[politestpirate.livejournal.com]

There is still a bit more staring when the Champion

angel

disappears, and Wellard then takes a moment and a deep breath to collect himself.

"If everyone's all well enough, perhaps we can get inside before anything much else happens?"

Even if Wellard himself thinks that is doubtful. The oppressive feel of the Dark is gone, completely, leaving a calm summer's evening. He leans over to offer Bran a hand up.

"At the least, it will be nicer to hear what happened in the bar, I think."

[theravenboy]

Bran laughs weakly. "Good idea, that. And I will be all right," he adds, shaking his head at Wellard's proffered hand. Bran tries to push himself up to a vertical position, but when he puts weight on his hands, pain shoots through them. His head spins.

Laughing again, Bran says, "Would you mind helping me up after all?" With Wellard's aid, Bran finally stands. "Diolch yn fawr."

[young_tmriddle]

There were no falling houses, but things seem to have gone even better this time. He falls in behind Bran and Wellard. He's in a grand mood. He can't wait to tell Door. The rerouting of paintings back to normal will begin first thing tomorrow.

"That's the end of her. Thank the Temple and thank the Arch."

[sign-seeker.livejournal.com]

Will doesn't have so much stubborn pride as Bran in general, but even if he did Bran's just provided a good example of the pointlessness of holding to it just now. He takes Wellard's offered hand with a quick and rueful half-smile, and lets the other boy help him up.

His head pounds more, standing, and there's a moment of vertigo when he's afraid he's going to do something embarrassing like lose his balance, but it passes quickly. "Thanks," he says to Wellard, rueful again.

It's not so different from the long months of convalescence after his bout with hepatitis, years ago. There was exhaustion then, too, and dizzy spells. But better, this, and far more temporary. He has his balance back now, enough to be certain of walking to the bar on his own, however slowly.

[gramarye1971]

Everyone seems to be heading back to the bar, and Merriman is quite glad of that. He looks down at his left wrist, estimating the damage done as a fracture -- and thankfully not much more than that. It will be painful for a time, but it will heal.

He had been prepared to pay a much higher price, after all.

He spares a brief glance for the woman in white, who is walking away from the bar with the half-blinded, uncertain step of the shell-shocked. The thought occurs to him that he ought to go after her, to find out where she will go...but truthfully, he has nothing to say to her.

As far as he is concerned, at the moment she is no longer the Light's business.

So he turns, and trudges after the others.