4/16/2025, 10:47 PM
![[Image: shybadge.png]](http://magatia.net/x/shybadge.png)
SKILL : GUARDIAN ( 1 / 5 )
There were few things that truly shook Shiloh, and the beck of the unknown was one of them - particularly the brand of intangibles that he could not beat into submission.
He could not intimidate the dream visitor, nor the voice that whispered purpose to himself and all the others who reached the summit to the north. It left him on edge, firmly held within the suspension of not knowing, and the words dripping from a foreign tongue were on repeat within the chambers of his mind even after he awoke.
They were words he did not know, and the markings on the wall had almost reminded him of the runestones his mother sometimes used for blessings and rites... but they remained just past his understanding - they were dissimilar from his mother's, vexing in their peculiarity.
The only physical evidence that any of it had truly come to pass was the vague and diminishing ache of his ribs from the pressure that once resided there. That, he could not attribute to anything but the oppressive weight of whatever force it was that regarded them. He could not write off the experience, too, when it was known that others had witnessed it all the same and had their slumbering minds play host to further onslaught, revealing the promise of certain destruction if they did not intervene.
His jaw flexed in annoyance at his lack of understanding as he followed just behind Tiberii. While Solulfur had summoned the pillars, the knight had silently sworn to himself that he was not letting the smoke-and-cinder Shakti-Vaes out of his sight until he knew what the hell was going on. He hadn't been able to prevent Gamma's death, nor her kidnapping before it, and he sure as hell wasn't going to let this world claim anyone he cared about all because of something others of their kind had done before them.
As a dispenser of justice, what ends did it satisfy if the wrong parties paid for crimes they did not even commit?
Shiloh didn't like it, not at all. He was not known for his spiritual nature despite his upbringing, for he paid greater stock in what was before him in flesh and blood and bone, but it appeared danger rippled from invisible forces if they disregarded the message written in the blood of their predecessors; waves of discourse lapped at their door and the gravity of it was not lost on the Goldencourte. They would be dragged into the current whether they wished it or not, but they were afforded only one choice in all of this - they could decide to swim or be claimed by the undertow.
He had slipped into a skin of stoicism and objectivity in the face of his swirling thoughts, wordlessly assuming the role of sentinel in Tiberii's steps. They needed to find runes lest tragedy find them first, but they were given little guidance to aid them in the search.
A heavy breath pressed through his nostrils, heated with the annoyance that burned in his throat. Gods, spirits, and those beyond the veil were always so cryptic, speaking in obscurities and expecting mortal-kind to prostrate in hopes of the divine recognizing them. Was it the same in this world as it was the last? Regardless, they must succeed - so many of his family were here now, and his circle of beings his protection spanned to was growing everyday. Whatever relaxation and peace he had hoped to grasp in this life beyond his first had gone up in smoke, at least until the lingering sense of doom was squared away - not a matter of if but when.
He came to a rest beside Tiberii, his gaze flickering from pillar to pillar and then finally to Solulfur. If she summoned them, he surmised she had sound reason - she seemed to have a good head on her shoulders and his opinion of her was positive thus far. Although his expression still largely read as stony, a glint of curiosity lit within his eyes in the wake of Tiberii's question.
How many had paid witness to the strange visitor and his message - and did their versions all match?
The lion remained silent, but watched the Mediator expectantly.
He could not intimidate the dream visitor, nor the voice that whispered purpose to himself and all the others who reached the summit to the north. It left him on edge, firmly held within the suspension of not knowing, and the words dripping from a foreign tongue were on repeat within the chambers of his mind even after he awoke.
They were words he did not know, and the markings on the wall had almost reminded him of the runestones his mother sometimes used for blessings and rites... but they remained just past his understanding - they were dissimilar from his mother's, vexing in their peculiarity.
The only physical evidence that any of it had truly come to pass was the vague and diminishing ache of his ribs from the pressure that once resided there. That, he could not attribute to anything but the oppressive weight of whatever force it was that regarded them. He could not write off the experience, too, when it was known that others had witnessed it all the same and had their slumbering minds play host to further onslaught, revealing the promise of certain destruction if they did not intervene.
His jaw flexed in annoyance at his lack of understanding as he followed just behind Tiberii. While Solulfur had summoned the pillars, the knight had silently sworn to himself that he was not letting the smoke-and-cinder Shakti-Vaes out of his sight until he knew what the hell was going on. He hadn't been able to prevent Gamma's death, nor her kidnapping before it, and he sure as hell wasn't going to let this world claim anyone he cared about all because of something others of their kind had done before them.
As a dispenser of justice, what ends did it satisfy if the wrong parties paid for crimes they did not even commit?
Shiloh didn't like it, not at all. He was not known for his spiritual nature despite his upbringing, for he paid greater stock in what was before him in flesh and blood and bone, but it appeared danger rippled from invisible forces if they disregarded the message written in the blood of their predecessors; waves of discourse lapped at their door and the gravity of it was not lost on the Goldencourte. They would be dragged into the current whether they wished it or not, but they were afforded only one choice in all of this - they could decide to swim or be claimed by the undertow.
He had slipped into a skin of stoicism and objectivity in the face of his swirling thoughts, wordlessly assuming the role of sentinel in Tiberii's steps. They needed to find runes lest tragedy find them first, but they were given little guidance to aid them in the search.
A heavy breath pressed through his nostrils, heated with the annoyance that burned in his throat. Gods, spirits, and those beyond the veil were always so cryptic, speaking in obscurities and expecting mortal-kind to prostrate in hopes of the divine recognizing them. Was it the same in this world as it was the last? Regardless, they must succeed - so many of his family were here now, and his circle of beings his protection spanned to was growing everyday. Whatever relaxation and peace he had hoped to grasp in this life beyond his first had gone up in smoke, at least until the lingering sense of doom was squared away - not a matter of if but when.
He came to a rest beside Tiberii, his gaze flickering from pillar to pillar and then finally to Solulfur. If she summoned them, he surmised she had sound reason - she seemed to have a good head on her shoulders and his opinion of her was positive thus far. Although his expression still largely read as stony, a glint of curiosity lit within his eyes in the wake of Tiberii's question.
How many had paid witness to the strange visitor and his message - and did their versions all match?
The lion remained silent, but watched the Mediator expectantly.
![[Image: Viv_ShilohFB.gif]](https://sig.grumpybumpers.com/host/Viv_ShilohFB.gif)
