A widow and a mystic meet on a balcony.
"So it is done. The killers shall feel agony beyond that of any living. And perhaps, beyond that of any of the dead. I have seen to that," the mystic
says, gruff and to the point.
The widow nods, a single elegant gesture as she purses black lips in thought. "I could say I was grateful, but your punishment of them means little to me.
Only his safety, and that was assured by another."
"Indeed. His savior has great power. He'll go far within the organization. Perhaps he is the one that DESTINY calls for."
"You would wish it so, would you not?" the widow says, looking over at him. "Better he than the one who smashed your dreams."
"Perhaps, perhaps not. Your Fortunatas already suspect that DESTINY applies to many instead of one, do they not?"
"Indeed," she says with an amused smile. "There are many that could be the sacrifice Lord Recluse seeks."
"Will you protect yours, even after they foiled your own plans?"
"...perhaps. They are useful."
"And because you've come to care for them. As you have for Wretch."
"You overstep yourself. I am long dead, and the dead cannot change. I cared for Wretch as I died, and I care for him now. Beyond that, everything is my
best efforts to serve Arachnos, as I am bound."
"Hmm. Perhaps if you cannot change, one day Arachnos will," he said, looking out over the lights of Grandville.
"A coup, my poor deluded peer? So soon after your failure? Recluse would put your head on a pike for future generations to look upon."
"No....no, not I. I may spite Recluse by proxy, but I no longer have the will for such a gamble. But one day, one may rise who does. When Arachnos changes
from within, will you still remain?"
"I am bound to it, Scirocco. I must. But your optimism is misplaced. One who could topple Lord Recluse would never be so noble."
"Perhaps...perhaps not. You say Arachnos cannot change, just as you cannot change, yet you do. You care for the Wretch, and you serve Arachnos best as you
are, yet you tried to convince him to leave you for his own good and you yearned for a mortal's life once more. And you say you care nothing for your
servants, yet you still protect them after they foiled your attempt to return to the mortal coil. You are changing, as impossible as that may seem. And I
believe if you can change, then so can this bastion of villainy."
She stands, looking at him with dead eyes, silent against his words as the mystic turns to the door.
"We all change, for better or worse. And despite my failure, I believe that there is still change for the better to be had. When it comes, what will you
do, oh Pale Light in the Darkness? Will you stay the same, as you claim? Or will your perspective be born anew?"
The mystic retreats inside the fortress from the storm coming in upon the Rogue Isles, but long into the rain-streaked night does the widow remain, silent,
upon the balcony.
---
"Oh, silver blade, forged in the depths of the beyond. Heed my summons and purge those who stand in my way. Lay
waste."
"So it is done. The killers shall feel agony beyond that of any living. And perhaps, beyond that of any of the dead. I have seen to that," the mystic
says, gruff and to the point.
The widow nods, a single elegant gesture as she purses black lips in thought. "I could say I was grateful, but your punishment of them means little to me.
Only his safety, and that was assured by another."
"Indeed. His savior has great power. He'll go far within the organization. Perhaps he is the one that DESTINY calls for."
"You would wish it so, would you not?" the widow says, looking over at him. "Better he than the one who smashed your dreams."
"Perhaps, perhaps not. Your Fortunatas already suspect that DESTINY applies to many instead of one, do they not?"
"Indeed," she says with an amused smile. "There are many that could be the sacrifice Lord Recluse seeks."
"Will you protect yours, even after they foiled your own plans?"
"...perhaps. They are useful."
"And because you've come to care for them. As you have for Wretch."
"You overstep yourself. I am long dead, and the dead cannot change. I cared for Wretch as I died, and I care for him now. Beyond that, everything is my
best efforts to serve Arachnos, as I am bound."
"Hmm. Perhaps if you cannot change, one day Arachnos will," he said, looking out over the lights of Grandville.
"A coup, my poor deluded peer? So soon after your failure? Recluse would put your head on a pike for future generations to look upon."
"No....no, not I. I may spite Recluse by proxy, but I no longer have the will for such a gamble. But one day, one may rise who does. When Arachnos changes
from within, will you still remain?"
"I am bound to it, Scirocco. I must. But your optimism is misplaced. One who could topple Lord Recluse would never be so noble."
"Perhaps...perhaps not. You say Arachnos cannot change, just as you cannot change, yet you do. You care for the Wretch, and you serve Arachnos best as you
are, yet you tried to convince him to leave you for his own good and you yearned for a mortal's life once more. And you say you care nothing for your
servants, yet you still protect them after they foiled your attempt to return to the mortal coil. You are changing, as impossible as that may seem. And I
believe if you can change, then so can this bastion of villainy."
She stands, looking at him with dead eyes, silent against his words as the mystic turns to the door.
"We all change, for better or worse. And despite my failure, I believe that there is still change for the better to be had. When it comes, what will you
do, oh Pale Light in the Darkness? Will you stay the same, as you claim? Or will your perspective be born anew?"
The mystic retreats inside the fortress from the storm coming in upon the Rogue Isles, but long into the rain-streaked night does the widow remain, silent,
upon the balcony.
---
"Oh, silver blade, forged in the depths of the beyond. Heed my summons and purge those who stand in my way. Lay
waste."
