>>6257289

Silver Knight Quest Thread 6 - Update 15


>>6258233
>>6258233
>>6258233

>These updates used to be less than 3200 words each Edition

Master has an important conversation. Meanwhile, you hold Soralisa for a bit, and try to stomach the latest revelations.

As Rubida points out, you don't really have the time.

Vote on how to face the welcome committee... as a suspected heretic this time.

>>6258237

The dawn turns into day, and as the sky grows blue, you sit in prayer at the boat’s helm, watching the ocean, holding onto the ivory. Your chapped lips murmur words of chalk, so easy to chip and to break and to shatter you don’t even recognise what you are saying.
Memories of the past few cycles shift into a recalling of the past year, and then of the past four years… from the moment Master gave you this trinket.
What you thought was just a careless trinket.
A little think he had found, a curiosity, a platitude in the shape of the Saint.
It was there with you when you first mastered the four skirmish form, even the Lion.
It was there when you held back hot tears as Master left you with the people who would become your friends.
It was there in the Well.
It was there when you woke, that terrible wound appearing in your chest.
And it was there when Willow told you her truth.
When you jumped at Soralisa to save her from the Sanction.
When you told Rubida why you don’t drink wine.
It was there during the puppet show.
During your first kiss — and the second.
When you performed your Molten Spring!
It led you back home when Soralisa interceded to Ansàrra for you.
It was there when you taught a lesson to Sandora, and started building a friendship with her.
It sustained you in the Temple.
And it was there when Willow… when Willow betrayed all of you.
It was there when you faced Rubida.
During every vision.
It was there it was there it was there—
“It was there,” you croak, finally giving those words shape. It was there, and not with you.
It was there, resting on Ansàrra’s bosom, for so many years.
No wonder this tiny ivory thing holds so much warmth, holds such a guiding light.
“Shaped by Bragia’s own fingers… carved by her hand.”
No wonder people have been saying you are tracing her steps… you hold onto the gift she gave Ansàrra, so many years ago. Just before her first mission.
You slump against the creaking wood. It smells like the sea, and it provides no answers.
Nor do your prayers.
Why has this come to you?
Why was it given by Master?And why did the Sun-Birther give it to him?
For you? You have been a failure.
You couldn’t stop Willow.
The Worm is still out there.
Whenever you thought you had gotten a hold of things, there has been a great upheaval and you have gone back to the starting point.
“Why… why… just tell me why!” You hiss.
The ocean only carries the lapping of the waves.

[cont.]