[C] Not a Trial, pt 6
"Why wait for some night? Convince me. You are not condemned to die. Not yet at least. If that were my intention the evidence is great enough I could have made summary judgment and you would be ash at this moment. The death of a Dragon is not something to undertake lightly. You are not wrong in many of your statements. Their is sound wisdom there. There is a well thought out path. We currently disagree on the conclusion. Convince me."
C nodded very slightly to his concession that she had offered sound logic. Acknowledge.
He closed his eyes. She imagined running claws through the lids and sticking them shut. Not out of rage, it was just one of the suggestions that came to her mind these nights. How survivable was an Immortal, honestly?
"You said, in response to whether you were Questing in the Brood, 'sort of but not at all". What did you mean by that? Why do you feel you could not accomplish this goal with a Quest and then return to enrich the Order as a whole? Why abandon it in its entire?"
"I could not Quest, in this case. Becoming Forsworn genuinely means to forswear what ties held you before, and I knew going in that I was not going to be able to come back when a dalliance was done. I knew that the Moroi might come for me. I knew people would call for my head. But do you understand that I CAN'T exist without some form of forward progression? If any of us here do, we are normal Kindred, fighting for political power and social standing - whatever you and I disagree on we agree that stasis will kill our selves.
"The knowledge I have, I could write in a book and it would be an ... Entirely academic ... Understanding. The Forsworn are the opposite of an academic exercise. Where you are a feat of self over Beast, I am an example of opening my self to the Beast. The first Coil I learned muzzled the animal I hear now. Now that I have turned from the Coils, I hear it again.
"I can tell you that the understanding I have alters the struggle with the Beast. I don't lose myself to it because I accept that its instinct is to help me, and we work together. You don't lose yourself to it because you have gagged it and listen to your Man instead."
She gestured at herself, her tattoos left from nights as a Dragon. She should get one as a Forsworn. "I elected to go without clothing to illustrate. Clothing is a Man's convention." She gestured to the chair she had never bothered to sit in. "A chair is a Man's convention. Sitting, seat to seat, having a debate, is a Man's convention. I wonder, how different from your past incarnations can you make yourselves when you don't divorce yourself from conventions that define you as a Man. How close to Transcendence can you get if you only put one foot outside of your proverbial comfort zone?
"As far as not-Questing. Some night, should I not die, I expect to be a new Thing, created from some understanding of the Dragons' Work and the efforts of the Forsworn. If I am in a condition to share what I become, then I have no real reason to expect that I would keep it from the Ordo Dracul. But as you only have Transcendental Camps to guess at what you may become, certainly I can't say what I would become, myself. I can't promise to rush back and share my knowledge because I don't know if it will matter to me at all. I cannot say then that I am formally Questing, even in the loosest of senses.
"I did intend it to be a break from the Dragons as I could not balance the two simultaneously as I was," she shrugs. "Did I expect it to be permanent? Not necessarily. We know that assuming the end of an experiment invalidates the fairness of testing, however, so I did not presume one way or another. As I say, I still do value some individuals in the Ordo Dracul, and the ones I don't I am sure I didn't value much more before my break."
She made something like a resigned sound, "Especially with Burr's initiative of some treaty within the region, it seemed as though a new form of study might even be possible. But I suppose with all of this, now, we will risk going back to being enemies out of habit. Whoever it is controlling the Moroi really made a mess of things."
Mycroft smiled, a shifting of his face to something almost wicked. Confident and smug, not what some Dragons might have expected. "Do not presume you know how I and my Beast communicate, Philosopher. I assure you have I communed more with my Beast than any in this room, yourself included." He chuckled softly and took his seat.
C noted. She had marked his Pride with a challenge. Behind closed lips, her fangs were out. She smirked a little at his claim, but getting into an argument here over whether or not he could understand the Beast was not going to help her. It would only paint her as an animal to be put down, if not by the Immortal then by the others.
"I have attained all known tiers of Beast and Soul. I believe I am more than learned and experienced enough to balance the ideas of Man and Beast. For between and intertwined within these two concepts lurks that which we can become," Mycroft continued, his tone very academic, his tone and tenor akin to a doting and favored college professor. "Let us address your comments regarding the Beast. You use an interesting analogy with the Beast and muzzles. I once thought the Beast was no more than a dog to be whipped and brought to heel; that the Coils of the Beast were the leash and training tool to bring a mongrel to obey. This is what the first tier taught me at least.
"As I progressed, I came to learn that I could no more bring my Beast to heel as I could my left arm. It is so much a part of me. I open myself to my Beast on a nightly basis, conversing for hours. I do not leash my Beast, but walk hand in hand with it." He paused and smiled. "Though I do currently suffer from the egotistical conceit that I am first amongst equals in my personal cosmology. I am sure I will unlearn that habit in time; I have not completely my Great Work after all."
Smug. Silly. Letting it loose and then looking to the Soul to shield him.
Did the Coil of the Soul work similar to Choronzon, somehow?
Mycroft pulled at his shirt. "I chose to wear clothing to protect the Masquerade in my travels here. I chose to wear clothing now because for the past year and a half I have not worn a thing; it is a novelty that serves a purpose. However, if choosing to be naked or clothed was the last lynch pin in the Great Work...," he shrugged. "I am sure it matters not a stitch. The same with chairs. They neither help nor hurt the Great Work. They simply are. Sit or stand. Naked or clothed. It matters not. So to do the politics of Burr or the actions of the Moroi matter not to the Great Work. These are things that are merely happening around it that do not impact it, unless those who toil at the Work are weak enough to allow those things to impact it."
Typical Azure. Blind to the influences on the whole. Too caught up in his Work to see the world falling down hill. She continued to pace, running her tongue across her fangs.
He steepled his fingers and was silent, gathering his thoughts. "You state Vlad cast aside the paths he chose to walk. I disagree. I say he cast aside all that was useless. Those things that had no value. The tiny kernels of truth others had chanced upon, those are the things he kept that have enabled those who followed him to get to where we are. Maybe he has cast the Ordo aside as something beyond his use. Maybe not. Maybe he's achieved his goal. Maybe he's a pile of ash. The key is he has given us the leave to cast that aside with is not useful.
"I once entered torpor to purge myself of all that that served no purpose. When I awoke I made such strides on the path of the Great Work as to defy expectation. I am sure in another century or so I must do that same. That is the long view. Allegedly abandoning your Oaths after you have witnessed an external calamity disable the Will of Dragons so that they may not embrace those Coils they lay about them mere months, an eyeblink to us, that is not the long view you so espouse.
Mycroft looked at Christine quizzically ... then cast a quick glance to the gallery, before continuing. "You do realize, depending on how one views the Principe, you did not actually Forswear yourself to the Brood."
She glanced at him, but continued her walk.
He ticked off on his fingers. "FIRST, that the student has no loyalty above his studies. His sole and ultimate duty is to seek the perfection of himself through the Coils, regardless of what his perfected nature is revealed to be.
"You are loyal to your studies. You are perfecting yourself, inspired by the Coils and the effects you have witnessed. You have done this regardless of the end result as you do not know it yet."
He holds up two fingers. "SECOND, the student must recognize the mutability of all things. If he does not trust change, he can never use the Coils to overcome the curse of stagnation. The power of change, fortune and even base fickle randomness in this fallen world must be understood, acknowledged and embraced, even as we stand against it by our immobile inclining."
"This describes what you are doing, to my mind."
He held up a third finger. "THIRD, the student must take responsibility for the path he walks, the changes he makes, the self he makes anew. We who are beyond Death cannot blame fear for our failings. We who are exempt from Age have no excuse for rash acts or foolish passions. We who possess unbounded Time have the chance to understand more fully, deeply and broadly than any mortal can.
To ignore that opportunity is worse than murdering ten thousand souls, for it means murdering your own fullest future."
"To pick a nit, I believe you diving headfirst into this new field of study due to the politics and disgust of your fellow Dragons who fail, as you see it, at the Great Work ... well that I view as a rash act. Perhaps foolish. However you do not ignore opportunity and you take full responsibility for your choices."
He paused, then asked, "So Philosopher Elise, by those interpretations of the Principe Draconis, did you really Forswear the Great Oath of the Ordo Dracul as laid down by Vlad Tepes in the Rites of the Dragon?"
C nodded very slightly to his concession that she had offered sound logic. Acknowledge.
He closed his eyes. She imagined running claws through the lids and sticking them shut. Not out of rage, it was just one of the suggestions that came to her mind these nights. How survivable was an Immortal, honestly?
"You said, in response to whether you were Questing in the Brood, 'sort of but not at all". What did you mean by that? Why do you feel you could not accomplish this goal with a Quest and then return to enrich the Order as a whole? Why abandon it in its entire?"
"I could not Quest, in this case. Becoming Forsworn genuinely means to forswear what ties held you before, and I knew going in that I was not going to be able to come back when a dalliance was done. I knew that the Moroi might come for me. I knew people would call for my head. But do you understand that I CAN'T exist without some form of forward progression? If any of us here do, we are normal Kindred, fighting for political power and social standing - whatever you and I disagree on we agree that stasis will kill our selves.
"The knowledge I have, I could write in a book and it would be an ... Entirely academic ... Understanding. The Forsworn are the opposite of an academic exercise. Where you are a feat of self over Beast, I am an example of opening my self to the Beast. The first Coil I learned muzzled the animal I hear now. Now that I have turned from the Coils, I hear it again.
"I can tell you that the understanding I have alters the struggle with the Beast. I don't lose myself to it because I accept that its instinct is to help me, and we work together. You don't lose yourself to it because you have gagged it and listen to your Man instead."
She gestured at herself, her tattoos left from nights as a Dragon. She should get one as a Forsworn. "I elected to go without clothing to illustrate. Clothing is a Man's convention." She gestured to the chair she had never bothered to sit in. "A chair is a Man's convention. Sitting, seat to seat, having a debate, is a Man's convention. I wonder, how different from your past incarnations can you make yourselves when you don't divorce yourself from conventions that define you as a Man. How close to Transcendence can you get if you only put one foot outside of your proverbial comfort zone?
"As far as not-Questing. Some night, should I not die, I expect to be a new Thing, created from some understanding of the Dragons' Work and the efforts of the Forsworn. If I am in a condition to share what I become, then I have no real reason to expect that I would keep it from the Ordo Dracul. But as you only have Transcendental Camps to guess at what you may become, certainly I can't say what I would become, myself. I can't promise to rush back and share my knowledge because I don't know if it will matter to me at all. I cannot say then that I am formally Questing, even in the loosest of senses.
"I did intend it to be a break from the Dragons as I could not balance the two simultaneously as I was," she shrugs. "Did I expect it to be permanent? Not necessarily. We know that assuming the end of an experiment invalidates the fairness of testing, however, so I did not presume one way or another. As I say, I still do value some individuals in the Ordo Dracul, and the ones I don't I am sure I didn't value much more before my break."
She made something like a resigned sound, "Especially with Burr's initiative of some treaty within the region, it seemed as though a new form of study might even be possible. But I suppose with all of this, now, we will risk going back to being enemies out of habit. Whoever it is controlling the Moroi really made a mess of things."
Mycroft smiled, a shifting of his face to something almost wicked. Confident and smug, not what some Dragons might have expected. "Do not presume you know how I and my Beast communicate, Philosopher. I assure you have I communed more with my Beast than any in this room, yourself included." He chuckled softly and took his seat.
C noted. She had marked his Pride with a challenge. Behind closed lips, her fangs were out. She smirked a little at his claim, but getting into an argument here over whether or not he could understand the Beast was not going to help her. It would only paint her as an animal to be put down, if not by the Immortal then by the others.
"I have attained all known tiers of Beast and Soul. I believe I am more than learned and experienced enough to balance the ideas of Man and Beast. For between and intertwined within these two concepts lurks that which we can become," Mycroft continued, his tone very academic, his tone and tenor akin to a doting and favored college professor. "Let us address your comments regarding the Beast. You use an interesting analogy with the Beast and muzzles. I once thought the Beast was no more than a dog to be whipped and brought to heel; that the Coils of the Beast were the leash and training tool to bring a mongrel to obey. This is what the first tier taught me at least.
"As I progressed, I came to learn that I could no more bring my Beast to heel as I could my left arm. It is so much a part of me. I open myself to my Beast on a nightly basis, conversing for hours. I do not leash my Beast, but walk hand in hand with it." He paused and smiled. "Though I do currently suffer from the egotistical conceit that I am first amongst equals in my personal cosmology. I am sure I will unlearn that habit in time; I have not completely my Great Work after all."
Smug. Silly. Letting it loose and then looking to the Soul to shield him.
Did the Coil of the Soul work similar to Choronzon, somehow?
Mycroft pulled at his shirt. "I chose to wear clothing to protect the Masquerade in my travels here. I chose to wear clothing now because for the past year and a half I have not worn a thing; it is a novelty that serves a purpose. However, if choosing to be naked or clothed was the last lynch pin in the Great Work...," he shrugged. "I am sure it matters not a stitch. The same with chairs. They neither help nor hurt the Great Work. They simply are. Sit or stand. Naked or clothed. It matters not. So to do the politics of Burr or the actions of the Moroi matter not to the Great Work. These are things that are merely happening around it that do not impact it, unless those who toil at the Work are weak enough to allow those things to impact it."
Typical Azure. Blind to the influences on the whole. Too caught up in his Work to see the world falling down hill. She continued to pace, running her tongue across her fangs.
He steepled his fingers and was silent, gathering his thoughts. "You state Vlad cast aside the paths he chose to walk. I disagree. I say he cast aside all that was useless. Those things that had no value. The tiny kernels of truth others had chanced upon, those are the things he kept that have enabled those who followed him to get to where we are. Maybe he has cast the Ordo aside as something beyond his use. Maybe not. Maybe he's achieved his goal. Maybe he's a pile of ash. The key is he has given us the leave to cast that aside with is not useful.
"I once entered torpor to purge myself of all that that served no purpose. When I awoke I made such strides on the path of the Great Work as to defy expectation. I am sure in another century or so I must do that same. That is the long view. Allegedly abandoning your Oaths after you have witnessed an external calamity disable the Will of Dragons so that they may not embrace those Coils they lay about them mere months, an eyeblink to us, that is not the long view you so espouse.
Mycroft looked at Christine quizzically ... then cast a quick glance to the gallery, before continuing. "You do realize, depending on how one views the Principe, you did not actually Forswear yourself to the Brood."
She glanced at him, but continued her walk.
He ticked off on his fingers. "FIRST, that the student has no loyalty above his studies. His sole and ultimate duty is to seek the perfection of himself through the Coils, regardless of what his perfected nature is revealed to be.
"You are loyal to your studies. You are perfecting yourself, inspired by the Coils and the effects you have witnessed. You have done this regardless of the end result as you do not know it yet."
He holds up two fingers. "SECOND, the student must recognize the mutability of all things. If he does not trust change, he can never use the Coils to overcome the curse of stagnation. The power of change, fortune and even base fickle randomness in this fallen world must be understood, acknowledged and embraced, even as we stand against it by our immobile inclining."
"This describes what you are doing, to my mind."
He held up a third finger. "THIRD, the student must take responsibility for the path he walks, the changes he makes, the self he makes anew. We who are beyond Death cannot blame fear for our failings. We who are exempt from Age have no excuse for rash acts or foolish passions. We who possess unbounded Time have the chance to understand more fully, deeply and broadly than any mortal can.
To ignore that opportunity is worse than murdering ten thousand souls, for it means murdering your own fullest future."
"To pick a nit, I believe you diving headfirst into this new field of study due to the politics and disgust of your fellow Dragons who fail, as you see it, at the Great Work ... well that I view as a rash act. Perhaps foolish. However you do not ignore opportunity and you take full responsibility for your choices."
He paused, then asked, "So Philosopher Elise, by those interpretations of the Principe Draconis, did you really Forswear the Great Oath of the Ordo Dracul as laid down by Vlad Tepes in the Rites of the Dragon?"