00 → OOC: Memory Recovery Event: All Senses
[This is backdated to 22 June, noon because I'm a slowpoke.]
The memory burst into being, flooding him with the fierce immediacy of being elsewhere and earlier as if he'd been wrenched back in time. No deadened senses, no stunted perceptions: everything clear and vivid and there.
Cool air wafted on his face, a thin clean draft in a dank underground space. The cavern echoed with the reverberating sound of water dripping onto rock. Thick, spear-like stalagtites hung from the ceiling, high like the veiled vastness of an emperor's hall. He stood, head craned back, and a rumbling voice spoke slowly on above him.
"Even if the black star dies, it will be reborn, its power ever growing."
A dragon's voice. Hawk felt his heart thudding, his body taut with awe and anxiety.
The dragon lay coiled in the centre of the open space, old as the stone, craggy as a mountainside, draped in the smell of the deep dark earth that slept under the green growing things. His pearly white snout seemed to glow in the dimness of the cavern, the tendril-like whiskers faintly luminous as they quivered with his words.
"It will not just try to wipe out the Dragon Family, but everyone. The only ones who can stop this catastrophe are the members of the Dragon Family."
Hawk's breath rasped, his mouth parched. What had he stepped into? Where was this? The dragon was immense, shining with power and age, a god wreathed in flesh, and doom or destiny vibrated in his words rolling like stones.
Only when someone else spoke did he register he wasn't alone with the dragon. It was the lady from his earlier memory: her face was soft and lovely, with wide dark eyes and a full red mouth, but she, too, stood tense with fear and something more. Her rich skirts were dusty at the hems, for all that she tried to hold them up off the grime of the cavern floor.
"Then, how do we remove that thing from inside Ryuui?" The hope in her voice was dwindling fast.
That thing. Black star. Did his past self feel as overwhelmed as Hawk now did?
"Right now, it is impossible. You cannot remove it completely," the dragon said. "Even if you killed your daughter, the black star would only be reborn. When that thing died, it was embracing the black gem."
Hawk's eyes twitched to the side; two more people were there. Fuuga held up a lantern, suspended from a pole, its tawny fire-glow mingling into the dusty gleam that seemed to flow off the great dragon's scales. And next to her, tall and grave, stood the man Hawk thought to be his teacher.
The dragon spoke on.
"Now its black soul has occupied your daughter's body, but when they die together... she will be reborn endowed with the power of the ---. That is why your daughter cannot be saved."
Daughter. Ryuui? What had happened? The woman's eyes went wide; her throat worked. For a heartbeat, she quivered like a spear struck into the ground, then melted onto her knees.
"Princess..." Her voice compassionate, concerned, Fuuga stepped to the woman's side. Hawk almost moved after her, felt the twinge of it pass through him, but then the dragon canted his head until he stared straight at the three of them.
"I have something to ask of you who follow the miko-princess." His voice called shivering echoes from the shadows of the cavern. "I want you to live until the time that the kings are reborn, so that you can pass this knowledge on to them."
"But... surely you will be here?" Hawk hadn't thought to hear such hesitation in his teacher's controlled voice.
"Now that I have passed on this omen, my role is over. I welcome death."
Death. Divine as a dragon was, one could be killed. Hawk had learned this, in memory and in actual deed. But this--this majestic, sagacious creature, curled up in a cave waiting for death? Something in him raged at that, even as he--himself and his memory-self--listened without even quite daring to breathe.
"There will come a time after the kings are reborn when we will meet again, but no memories of this life will remain to them. They will not realise they carry the gems, nor will they know how to use them."
Fuuga, too, was drawing shallow, silent breaths next to him. He shot her the briefest of glances. The dragon consumed his focus, the words pealing like bells, calls to prayer, mourning those gone. He did not know.
"I, too, must play my part and be reborn, but the knowledge of what has transpired and what needs to be done must not be forgotten." The dragon paused. His scale-crusted flank flared with an inhalation. "Will you undertake this responsibility?"
No. It was not a lamentation. It was a summons, a thread wound around his heart. This magnificent creature, offering, demanding...
His teacher's voice jolted him out of his awe-struck reverie. "Kouei, Fuuga... You need not accept this. I alone will..."
Fuuga shifted her stance, feet wide as if to brace for a fight. "No!"
"Fuuga," the princess said, almost gently. An entreaty, or a dissuasion.
"I've been with the princess from the moment she was born! If she is to be reborn, I will stay with her through this as well!" Her hand fisted, held to her heart, Fuuga raised her head.
And Hawk felt himself break from the shock and weight of the dragon's request. Live. Stay. Survive. Perhaps he understood at last. He could not reach himself: his thoughts, his motives, his feelings at this moment.
His mouth drew into a grin: easy, impish, confident. "I want to do my part, too. Just coming here means I'm already wrapped up in this thing, right?" There is no turning back now. "So I'll see it through to the end."
A wry smile cracked his teacher's serene countenance. "I see. As you wish."
The dragon had waited. Long enough, it seemed. The tremulous urgency that had lingered seemed to slip from Hawk: he had decided. He had answered. He looked up and not at the chasm at his feet. What have I promised?
"First, I must transfer my knowledge to you three," the dragon said. "In this way, the gems will call to you in the future and help you find the kings once they have been reborn."
Hide. Wait. Search. Live. All the others, the cavern, faded into a susurrus of awareness as the dragon lowered a single talon towards his face. The tip could have shorn off his arm without effort.
He'd been called. He would serve, and all the rest would attend to itself. Fate's skein must be untangled.
What did I promise? What did any of us?
The dragon's claw touched his cheek, gentle as a mother's caress, and pierced his whole being.
[Memory taken from Tenryu: The Dragon Cycle, Volume 4, pp. 195-206 of the English edition.]
The memory burst into being, flooding him with the fierce immediacy of being elsewhere and earlier as if he'd been wrenched back in time. No deadened senses, no stunted perceptions: everything clear and vivid and there.
Cool air wafted on his face, a thin clean draft in a dank underground space. The cavern echoed with the reverberating sound of water dripping onto rock. Thick, spear-like stalagtites hung from the ceiling, high like the veiled vastness of an emperor's hall. He stood, head craned back, and a rumbling voice spoke slowly on above him.
"Even if the black star dies, it will be reborn, its power ever growing."
A dragon's voice. Hawk felt his heart thudding, his body taut with awe and anxiety.
The dragon lay coiled in the centre of the open space, old as the stone, craggy as a mountainside, draped in the smell of the deep dark earth that slept under the green growing things. His pearly white snout seemed to glow in the dimness of the cavern, the tendril-like whiskers faintly luminous as they quivered with his words.
"It will not just try to wipe out the Dragon Family, but everyone. The only ones who can stop this catastrophe are the members of the Dragon Family."
Hawk's breath rasped, his mouth parched. What had he stepped into? Where was this? The dragon was immense, shining with power and age, a god wreathed in flesh, and doom or destiny vibrated in his words rolling like stones.
Only when someone else spoke did he register he wasn't alone with the dragon. It was the lady from his earlier memory: her face was soft and lovely, with wide dark eyes and a full red mouth, but she, too, stood tense with fear and something more. Her rich skirts were dusty at the hems, for all that she tried to hold them up off the grime of the cavern floor.
"Then, how do we remove that thing from inside Ryuui?" The hope in her voice was dwindling fast.
That thing. Black star. Did his past self feel as overwhelmed as Hawk now did?
"Right now, it is impossible. You cannot remove it completely," the dragon said. "Even if you killed your daughter, the black star would only be reborn. When that thing died, it was embracing the black gem."
Hawk's eyes twitched to the side; two more people were there. Fuuga held up a lantern, suspended from a pole, its tawny fire-glow mingling into the dusty gleam that seemed to flow off the great dragon's scales. And next to her, tall and grave, stood the man Hawk thought to be his teacher.
The dragon spoke on.
"Now its black soul has occupied your daughter's body, but when they die together... she will be reborn endowed with the power of the ---. That is why your daughter cannot be saved."
Daughter. Ryuui? What had happened? The woman's eyes went wide; her throat worked. For a heartbeat, she quivered like a spear struck into the ground, then melted onto her knees.
"Princess..." Her voice compassionate, concerned, Fuuga stepped to the woman's side. Hawk almost moved after her, felt the twinge of it pass through him, but then the dragon canted his head until he stared straight at the three of them.
"I have something to ask of you who follow the miko-princess." His voice called shivering echoes from the shadows of the cavern. "I want you to live until the time that the kings are reborn, so that you can pass this knowledge on to them."
"But... surely you will be here?" Hawk hadn't thought to hear such hesitation in his teacher's controlled voice.
"Now that I have passed on this omen, my role is over. I welcome death."
Death. Divine as a dragon was, one could be killed. Hawk had learned this, in memory and in actual deed. But this--this majestic, sagacious creature, curled up in a cave waiting for death? Something in him raged at that, even as he--himself and his memory-self--listened without even quite daring to breathe.
"There will come a time after the kings are reborn when we will meet again, but no memories of this life will remain to them. They will not realise they carry the gems, nor will they know how to use them."
Fuuga, too, was drawing shallow, silent breaths next to him. He shot her the briefest of glances. The dragon consumed his focus, the words pealing like bells, calls to prayer, mourning those gone. He did not know.
"I, too, must play my part and be reborn, but the knowledge of what has transpired and what needs to be done must not be forgotten." The dragon paused. His scale-crusted flank flared with an inhalation. "Will you undertake this responsibility?"
No. It was not a lamentation. It was a summons, a thread wound around his heart. This magnificent creature, offering, demanding...
His teacher's voice jolted him out of his awe-struck reverie. "Kouei, Fuuga... You need not accept this. I alone will..."
Fuuga shifted her stance, feet wide as if to brace for a fight. "No!"
"Fuuga," the princess said, almost gently. An entreaty, or a dissuasion.
"I've been with the princess from the moment she was born! If she is to be reborn, I will stay with her through this as well!" Her hand fisted, held to her heart, Fuuga raised her head.
And Hawk felt himself break from the shock and weight of the dragon's request. Live. Stay. Survive. Perhaps he understood at last. He could not reach himself: his thoughts, his motives, his feelings at this moment.
His mouth drew into a grin: easy, impish, confident. "I want to do my part, too. Just coming here means I'm already wrapped up in this thing, right?" There is no turning back now. "So I'll see it through to the end."
A wry smile cracked his teacher's serene countenance. "I see. As you wish."
The dragon had waited. Long enough, it seemed. The tremulous urgency that had lingered seemed to slip from Hawk: he had decided. He had answered. He looked up and not at the chasm at his feet. What have I promised?
"First, I must transfer my knowledge to you three," the dragon said. "In this way, the gems will call to you in the future and help you find the kings once they have been reborn."
Hide. Wait. Search. Live. All the others, the cavern, faded into a susurrus of awareness as the dragon lowered a single talon towards his face. The tip could have shorn off his arm without effort.
He'd been called. He would serve, and all the rest would attend to itself. Fate's skein must be untangled.
What did I promise? What did any of us?
The dragon's claw touched his cheek, gentle as a mother's caress, and pierced his whole being.
[Memory taken from Tenryu: The Dragon Cycle, Volume 4, pp. 195-206 of the English edition.]