Skyfall Quests [ARPG] [EVENT]

~ Into the Rift ~
Word Count: 1946

It felt as if it had been ages since the sky had cleaved in two. Looking upward, Amaranth could see its ever-shifting light filtering downward, casting an eerie glow across all of Bellacoste.

A good ways away from where she stood, a crowd had begun to form beneath the scar in the heavens. Faint shouting could be heard from afar; though it was difficult to make out exactly who the voice belonged to, being so distant, Amaranth could tell that it carried the demanding tonality of a military commander. Approaching, (against her better judgement), the red lon could clearly recognize the group as a host of knights -- their armor reflecting the reddish, burning sky above them. So it seemed, they were preparing to enter the rift, from which they may never return. A majority appeared stoic and stone-faced, ready and willing to sacrifice themselves for the sake of the greater good; the rest, however, being clearly young and inexperienced, seemed to be struggling a great deal in hiding their terror. Amaranth couldn’t help but to frown, if only just so; from what she could see it appeared as if a young cadet had gotten cold feet, wishing to turn back -- Auster. Before the host of knights was Perth, clearly spread thin in having to manage quite a few more troops than she was typically used to, due to the nature of the disaster. Such stress wasn’t an excuse though, for the verbal beating the cadet was receiving; she was treating him as if fearing a giant, gaping hole in the sky, known to corrupt whatever it happened to touch, was an act of treason. Such a sight really got under Amaranth’s skin, and she marched forward with the intent to step in herself, her confidence swiftly returning in the perception of injustice -- until, from the crowd, a different lon emerged. He was large, and well-built, with a flowing white mane that nearly touched the ground in its length; while the rest of the party had no choice but to accept the terrible redness that illuminated the environment, his pale coat and shining armor almost appeared ethereal, rejecting the influence of the force above that was many times bigger than himself.

Even from afar, Amaranth would recognize him just about anywhere -- Übermensch. He had taken up position in front of Auster, shielding him from the sharp gaze of his commander; despite the red lon’s own rage having already begun to bubble, Über seemed to be doing his best in remaining steadfast and neutral in tone; to the average lon, he appeared steadfast as ever. Amaranth, of course, knew better than this. From the consistent flicking of his tail, she could tell he was at least somewhat agitated, and all things considered, that usually wasn’t a fantastic sign. It wasn’t that she really cared what happened to Perth, mind you, outside of the extreme perhaps -- but, seeing Über become distressed wasn’t exactly something she thoroughly enjoyed.  

“Listen. I understand that reinforcements have been scarce, but there’s no sense in sending somelon who is unprepared to fight. A soldier that’s as good as dead is no more useful than the lack thereof.”

Über’s comment appeared to worry Auster even further, his ears falling backwards against his head. Meanwhile, the peach-colored lon, (who was almost always far from peachy in personality), almost seemed to scoff.

“Might I remind you that he signed up for this? Any good knight worth their salt knows full well our code and its consequences. To desert is to be a traitor -- which makes me rather surprised that you’d dare show your face here again, after what you pulled,” Perth spat. “Maybe the fondness of your brigade buddies bid them to forgive you, but I haven’t any reason to do so. Were we not in such dire straits, I would have banished you from the battlefield already… but you know, desperate times call for desperate measures.”

Über gritted his teeth. Taking a breath, he attempted to center himself; undoubtedly, he had intended to continue his rebuttal, when Amaranth finally managed to step in.

“Übermensch is right; sending someone so young and inexperienced into the Rift would be nothing but fruitless.” Amaranth’s eyes turned to the group of nearby knights; while they remained in stiff formation, they had begun to show signs of confusion, talking to each other in hushed voices. “Not to mention, were he to return afterward, the damage sustained could shake his faith in knighthood forever -- alongside the faith of many other potential troops. If being down a single unit is truly that harmful to you and your company, then I’d gladly take his place.”

A rude snort erupted from Perth, as if she had just heard an exceedingly funny joke. “Ah, yes, we should all listen to the college dropout halfbreed.” Perth’s expression beget a certain brand of sneer -- the sort that, above all else, Amaranth absolutely couldn’t stand. “It’d be wise on your part to step aside. The battlefield is no place for somelon like you.”

Of course Perth had to go for such a comment, banking on prejudiced insults apropo of nothing. This action appeared to visibly anger the white lon across from her, his expression shifting rather sharply as he took a step forward -- bidding Perth to, unconsciously, take a step back herself. Obviously, the insults upset Amaranth as well; after all, how could they not? Over time, though, she had grown used to them -- and thus, her approach to deflecting them had changed. It was much more effective now, in her opinion, to use somelon’s logic against them, rather than making any real attempt to change their mind. She wasn’t invested in Perth’s development as a pouflon, nor was she interested in whether or not Perth was actually a ‘good lon’ deep down; if anything, she was merely an obstacle in the way at this point. A very rude obstacle in the way.

“And it’s certainly no place for Auster either! At the very least, I know my limits. I’ve been through the ringer and bounced back more times than you could feasibly count! Sending a child off into the realm of who knows what -- that’s somehow a better solution in your opinion?” Amaranth shifted her gaze, looking Perth directly in the eyes; the stare-down was intense, and the air was thick with static. “Besides, if you hate people like me so much, is it not in your own best interest to be rid of me? How could something happening to me possibly be worse than the loss of a young knight and his potential? That is, if you truly mean what you say…”

Tensions were rising. The knights in the company really began to chatter, then, a discourse seemingly rising among them. All felt silent, however, when an unexpected individual arrived on the scene -- somelon who even Perth would do well to treat with respect: Marleau.

“Perth. Enough of this. You said it yourself: this isn’t the time for being prickly about protocols.

“You claim to care oh so very much about the rules,” Marleau began, “and yet, if anything, dear Auster here should have never been permitted to take part in this conflict in the first place. Are we to break the rules, or are we to follow them? And if we are to break them -- what with desperate times calling for desperate measures -- should we not act in the best interest of our own? I do believe that it is far more wise to send a full grown, willing adult into battle, than a greenhorn with far too much left to learn, and far too much life left to live.”

The royal captain opened her mouth once again to speak -- but Marleau cut her off.

“Now, I am not one to often fly above my station, and you may very well view this as a sign of disrespect… But when something is wrong, then I will say it is wrong. Regardless of what you happen to think of her, she is a brave Bellecostian willing to take up arms against a force that threatens each and every one of us, regardless of color or creed. You, of all people, I’d assume to respect such patriotism.”

Perth snorted. She noticed then, how all eyes were now on her; the entire company of knights, relying on her for their orders, were looking to her with questioning gazes; clearly, Marleau’s little speech had been compelling. In the interest of preserving what morale was left after recent losses to the bridge, she had no choice but to give in to the demands of the three lons before her. They were losing daylight -- or, well, what Perth assumed was still daylight. One more knight, or one less... it didn’t necessarily matter, in the face of losing the entire company’s favor -- even if she was loath to admit it, being one so beholden to the rules.

Squaring her shoulders and clearing her throat, the commander relented. “Alright. I see your point. We haven’t the time to be standing around, anyhow -- we have a war to fight.” Shoving her way past Amaranth, she hissed under her breath, “It would do you well to remember that from here on out, whatever happens to you in there, is not my concern. When you turn up missing and they can’t find your body, I won’t be sending a search party.”

Amaranth swallowed hard as Perth took to the open skies -- the rest of the knights soon following close behind. On the flip side, Über’s temper appeared to be cooling, giving way to concern once logical function returned in-full. The red lon seemed uncertain and thoroughly troubled, in a manner she usually wasn’t after such passionate advocacy of herself; her expression was a grave one as she looked upwards -- her eyes, reflecting back nothing but disaster, fixed upon that terrible crack in the sky.

“Amaranth… Are you alright? I know you probably want to prove, ah, Perth(?) wrong -- but you don’t have to do this. You don’t owe it to her, or anylon, to take a risk like this.”

The mage shook her head; the manner in which she did so, however -- as if attempting to shake a nasty thought out of her mind -- only called her reasoning further into question.

“No, no, it’s... not that. I’m alright. Or, I will be. I want to do this. I mean, I know what’s beyond that crack in the sky is likely at least somewhat horrifying… But, it can’t be any more horrifying than what I’ve been dealing with down here. What I will be dealing with. I’ve just been so sick of sitting around, watching the world burn to the ground, and the last thing I’d want is to stand by being useless while you--”

“While I what?”

Amaranth sighed.

“...While you fly off to somewhere that you might not come back from.”

***

“I’m uh, really sorry, that I couldn’t be helpful, Mareleau,” Auster bleated. “I just, you know-- I didn’t think--”

Marleau shushed him, nudging him with a hoof in the direction of a nearby camp; her expression had softened, very different from that which had faced down Perth, as she looked to the brave pouflons who now soared up into the sky -- higher, higher, higher still, until she could no longer perceive them anymore. A particular pair lagged behind… though soon enough, they too were out of sight.

“No need to apologize. You can still be plenty helpful. Go on, fetch us some supplies, as many as you can carry -- I can tell that we’re going to need them.”