We Will Not Go Quietly
The only people that you find will betray us
They're gonna hate to hear the sound of my voice
When we're screaming their name, when we're screaming their name
It was spring now. Her father had been slain… and though it was no warrior’s death the young girl felt confident that her father had made the right choice. Ganta had died doing what he believed was right, despite the odds, and no matter what anyone else said or thought Philly though he was a hero. But that did not bring her any peace in his death. In truth it tore her up inside… her father was gone, her mother… she was undoubtedly worried of what had become of her and Ulric. As for her uncle? She didn’t doubt he was worried as well, if not hurt by her sudden disappearance. But Philomena swore to make amends with them, just as soon as she made her way out of here.
Thus far Philomena wasn’t sure what to make of this place, this Empire that had brought about the downfall of her former pack. Not that she’d been there when it happened… no… it was cruel fate that brought her back only to be taken in with Ulric. But Philly wasn’t afraid. A determined fire burned in her gaze… and like her father before her the girl didn’t try to run. She’d be brave… she’d hold her head up high and swear to avenge her father one day. But Philomena was no fool; that would not be today, nor anytime soon… and avenging a wolf did not necessarily mean you needed to strip another of their life.
Philly was sure it hurt much more to be left living without the things one cared about.
As the dawn rose so did the youth, leaving the den where she and Ulric had been brought. She turned her blue gaze to the sky, a soft, breathy sigh escaping her. She still regretted being unable to say goodbye to Ganta… and the fact she’d still be unable to see her mother made her feel unsettled. Especially since it was her birth season and she should have been able to celebrate this time with her family. She closed her eyes, though rather than a frown remaining on her face a small, yet sad, smile came to her face.
“One day…” Philomena promised herself. “One day, Father, a new world will dawn… a world where light and dark will walk together… and a new age will come about.” In her mind the girl’s eye viewed her youth, her father’s reign, as the light. This… this Empire was the dark… and she’d create something that would one day be that fine line between the two.
Rain began to fall… a cold, freezing rain that signified that it was still close enough to winter to still bring the cold. Philomena welcomed it, embracing it as her Hellstrom nature coming to comfort her. The girl canted her head to one side, ears twitching as she listened to the sounds of Auster’s lands. It wasn’t like the North… it felt too foreign. Philomena glanced over her shoulder at the den… would Ulric be up soon? Would he be in a panic if he noticed that she was missing when he awoke? Not that she’d leave him behind… curiosity merely got the better of the young one.
So paws began to lead her away from the den as the rain grew heavier, ears perked as she kept a lookout for the massive wolves of this Empire. Wolves whom she too matched in height, surprisingly enough. Her blue orbs narrowed in thought, her heart a hardened stone in her chest. She would not show anymore fear. She would not give them the satisfaction of seeing her hurt.
It was at the Cathedral that Philomena came to a stop, gazing upon the structure with thoughtful eyes. She took a seat, ears flicked back slightly as the rain continued to fall, dampening her fur. Philly closed her eyes once more, humming thoughtfully. She didn’t want to rush into any decisions. She felt it was her birthright to rule… yet… avenging her father was a higher priority. Was it even worth leading some dinky pack? Yes… there were things to think about yet… but first things first. She needed to figure out how to rid herself of these lands and start the task of becoming stronger.
You gotta burn it down, you gotta blow it up
You gotta give them hell, you gotta pull the plug
And you can run away, and you can kill the beast
And you can try to kill yourself but you can never kill me!
The skies above Amon were foreboding, to say the least. Dark and roiling with all the fury of the mortal world, they foretold rain, rain, and more rain. A cool wind blew against him, and he turned his shoulder to step out of it's direct path. There was a bit of business he had to attend to today, and he was not yet sure how best to go about it. In their conquest they had taken several captives, but Amon had never intended for them to stay. Bountiful as the Empire's territory was, there were limits to what a land could sustain and Amon knew they were fast approaching it's edge. No, they could not stay. But that did not mean he did not have a use for them. Picking up the young girl's scent was tricky in the rain. Scent paths were muddled, and the gusting wind blew trails every which way. It took him time, but eventually the titanic shadow found recent evidence of Philomena's passing. Following her trail, he came upon the youngling standing by herself, and apparently deep in thought. Curious, Amon allowed the depths of the cavernous forest consume him, his pelt allowing him to practically melt into it's hidden spaces. Lingering on the edge of hearing, he was just close enough to make out a prayer of sorts to her deceased father. Interesting, Amon thought with a soft chuckle, then cleared his throat to announce himself. She began to move as the rain would fall, and Amon allowed it's pittering hissing sound to cover him as he lurked in her wake. Working her way into the forest's heart, the girl remained silent. Amon observed her carefully, always certain to maintain a distance between them but never letting her out of his sight. Finally in the gnarled forest's depths she would sit, staring up at the expansive canopy above. It seemed as if his opportunity to glean anything useful was up, and so with her back turned Amon stepped out of the shadows. Slinking carefully and quietly he would approach, not wanting to allow his presence to be known until the last moment. Perhaps it would startle he a bit, but Amon found wolves were much more compliant when they were a bit... off balance. He sat, and cleared his throat gently. "Philomena. Might I borrow a moment of your time?" Ever eloquent, he awaited her response. "Talk" "You" Think |
His children are welcome in any and all of his threads!
The only people that you find are gonna slay us
I'd really love to hear the sound of your voice
When you're screaming their name, when you're screaming their name
The female flicked an ear, not noticing the Risen Empire until he was there clearing his throat. The girl flinched a bit, but when she looked upon the man her gaze had hardened once more, her raised fur the only sign that she’d surely been caught off guard. For a long moment she just glared him at him, her blue eyes shining with defiance and emotion. There was no doubt that she hated this man… hated his family. This was the one that had taken her father… a good father away from his family… before she even had the chance to say goodbye.
“I should tell you no,” The girl averted her gaze, breathing out slowly. “My family is broken because of you, Emperor, and I’m sure you feel no remorse for it.” Her ears pinned against her skull, though she didn’t move other than that. “I’m sure you think he was a fool… but my father was a brave man. I know he knew he’d lose. He sacrificed himself for his loved ones… to give the rest of the pack a chance of getting away.” She hadn’t had the chance to speak her piece yet, and she figured now was as good a time as any.
“Make no mistake -- I am not your ally. I am no friend. One day you’ll face the consequences of your actions, but, whether from me or another, I can not say.” Philomena closed her eyes, if only to hide the tears she wanted to shed. “...so go ahead and take the time you need. I’m sure you’re keeping me and my brother as prisoners of war anyway, aren’t you?” Philomena opened her eyes again, regaining her composure as she looked upon the man. He was a frightening figure… His whole family were like a pack of nightmares that had crawled out of the deepest darkest depths of Hell.
But her father and Uncle had always told her to not be afraid of the dark… and her mother had always promised her that light would come after the night. Even if she was scared… she would do her best to be brave. She’d do everything in her power… to make things right somehow. But if the girl was being honest with herself... she was afraid. Afraid for herself... afraid for her brother... so right now she had to put on a tough face before these monsters.
...because that was all they were.
...right?
Hey! If this is how the world will end
Well you can burn it again
'Cause we will not go quietly
Hey! If this is how the world will end
Well you can tell all your friends
That we will not go quietly
(Not go quietly)
Amon met the child's tirade with an impassive face. Whatever might be said about him, he did not kill mindlessly. And while he had no strong aversion to cutting short a life that had not earned the right to waste space in this world, he knew that this girl would serve her purpose. They all would, himself included. Himself most of all. The world around him was little more than one unfathomable chess board. Amon recognized the world around him for what is was, one giant game with many small pieces, each in possession of it's own skills and shortcomings. He recognized that he did not have knowledge of each individual piece, could not see how they interlocked, but Amon would attempt to manipulate them regardless. Her family was broken, the girl would whine. And it was Amon's doing apparently. It was worth a laugh, if little else. "We came to your borders offering you salvation, a place of honor in the heavens, eternal glory. Your father met my offer with crude discourtesy and demanded one of us die that day. As a guest in his domain, who was I to deny this request?" Amon paused, to blink passively at the small, odd-furred whelp. "I do not think he was brave, nor do I think he was a fool. I merely think he was in the way. An obstacle to be overcome." The girl believed they were prisoners. Amon tipped his head back and let out a gentle chuckle, one far too warm and nigh bordering charismatic, especially given the circumstances. This pup was both naive and idiotic if she believed this was the treatment one afforded prisoners. "What guard has been posted at your watch? What food have you been denied? I must say, if this is how prisoners were treated in your father's pack, it is no wonder your spineless compatriots fled like worms at the sound of our arrival. No, little girl, you are not a prisoner of mine. I would consider you an honored guest, if you had been raised with the courtesy or manners to present yourself as such. Instead I will use you as a messenger." Before the pup had time to squawk out a rebellion, claim she would do nothing of the sort, would never stoop to heeding any demand leveled by her captor, Amon pressed on. "Before you wail and rail, I only ask that when you speak of what transpired, you tell the truth. We arrived, respecting your borders until your father arrived. You were offered a choice. It was extended to each member of your pack, you know, but Ganta did not see fit translate it to you. A place among us as allies, or a place across the battlefield, as our enemy. A choice was made, and a life was lost. Is that so evil? That a man request death, and it be delivered? You say he fought for what he believed in. If Ganta truly loved and cherished his kin, why would he not wish to see them amongst our own prosperous ranks?" Amon shrugged, brushing the matter aside. "I release you, Philomena. You will leave our borders unscathed to pursue your life as you wish. Ganta did not see fit to provide you with a choice of your own, so I will give it back to you. However," he paused, voice growing deeper, hardening with an edge of danger that had yet to surface in their conversation. "The next time we meet, the choice will not be Ganta's. It will be your own. We inhabit weak, mortal frames in a world dominated by immense forces we have no hope to control. A world of gods, and those to weak to do aught but be crushed beneath their weight. A time will come when you choose which role suits you better. For now..." Amon trailed off, jerking his muzzle towards the distant horizon, a border nearest to neutral lands. "Begone. If my Soldiers catch scent of you within our borders after the coming dawn, you will be met as a tresspasser. And remember Philomena," he said, tone resuming it's light-hearted and lackadaisical tune. "I only ask that you speak the truth." Walk, "Talk" Think |
His children are welcome in any and all of his threads!
Her mouth parted. She was silent til he fished. “Dragoste was a pack of Love,” She said, keeping the bite back away from her words. “...and for the record… I wasn’t there when you guys attacked. I hadn’t been there in a long time.” Her words grew quieter as she responded to the words the male had spoken.
“I will tell of the truth… but you need know that I do not believe in such Gods… and neither did my father. But if you truly believe yourselves to be some saviors…” She bit her lip, shaking her head before she uttered something she’d regret. “You didn’t give a choice. You gave an ultimatum. Live. Or Die. That is evil. It is wrong. From what I heard you only met with my father... If YOU cared about our people you would have given them the freedom of choice… What were they to think, with wolves coming and sniffing around their home? It’s not how things are done, Emperor.”
Philomena fixed her gaze on the man now. “My father loved his pack enough to give them their own choice, not to decide for them. He wanted to give them that chance, even if it meant his life. But… perhaps to a degree you were both wrong in how you acted.” Philomena looked away. “I wouldn’t know. I haven’t had the chance to speak to my father since I was hardly a season old… and now I won’t have that chance. I suppose that makes me bitter.” Philomena bristled.
“But don’t you dare think...” She growled. “My father never gave me a choice. Never gave any of us a choice. If you want others to join your ranks, try showing more compassion next time. Flies are better caught with honey than molasses.” She was already beginning to move, starting towards the neutral lands. But she stopped, looking over her shoulder at the Risen Emperor.
“...so I will speak the truth, Emperor… and in return I ask of you but one request.” Philly’s blue gaze flashed. “When we do meet on that battlefield, and that choice is made, it will be but you and I to go about the outcome. Not your family’s fight, nor mine, but yours and mine alone.” Without waiting for an answer, perhaps because she didn’t want to hear it either way, Philomena turned back towards the neutral lands, calling to her brother.
It was time to move on.
-Exit Philly-