Once more with feeling/Xytrisae/Meets the Church of Balor

Xytrisae, The Azure River of Song and Sword

It was at once the most foolish and best idea ever conceived by Xytrisae, the former Unshaped Azure Rivers of Song and Swords. She had stormed into the Freehold, her form of that of an angelic beauty. Her skin was that of a serene flawless light mocha, her hair was long falling almost to the ground, wavy and shimmering with their blackness. Her form was slender and beautiful, humanoid only from the waist up, and the black scales of some Creation-born serpent for her lower body, the coils themselves wrap amongst itself as she settles before the gathered. Her Wings were draped around her like a cloak, the dark red feathers softly sitting against her silk clothed form. They all stared at her, various Raksha of various power and form.

“Azure River of Song and Sword, what brings you here? The Wyld has not heard your song for many a tale.” The head of the group says with a cool demeanor. It was eerie really for all of this to be but in her defense she had been in Creation for nearly a thousand of Creation’s years.

Xytrisae, at this point would have pulled her harp and spun a tale, a thing so wonderful in the realms of the Wyld, but there was an urgency in her actions and tone, and she knew she may have to be creative later, if this went out of hand. She places a hand on her shapely hip and smiles.

“I, Xytrisae, The Azure River of Song and Sword demand that you cease your hostilities against Creation.” There is laughter from everywhere, and she knew this would be, the Church of Balor was quite strong with the Raksha.

“You dare to demand anything from us,” the leader stands pushing back his cape and placing a hand on his sword’s hilt. “You are nothing more now than something taken with the concepts of Creation. Can you not see, Azure River, that you are corrupted, twisted by the form that you have taken? Creation should be torn down, it should be consumed by the Wyld and restored to what it was before it.”

“That won’t happen,” she says sharply her eyes turning to the others. “I was there when it was formed. I was there when the Primordials, now Once-Primordials, created it out of the Wyld and the Shinma. It will not change back. The Once-Primordials imposed upon the Wyld the very thing we wish to destroy. But we cannot remove that Imposition, it is there, in everything, our works of Glamour, our combats, and stories. We cannot destroy that.”

“It is folly, Azure River. You only bring lies and deceit. You and Aesir have been working against us for centuries, the tales of your actions have not gone unheard.”

Xytrisea frowns turning her eyes upon him. “Then you do not intent to listen.” She turns her hair flying behind her feelings on this sharper than any blade of the Sword. Before she could take another step, as it were, the sharp blade of the leader is against my neck.

“It would not do for you to return to Creation. You are tainted enough, and my Templars will be happy enough to remove you of your existence.”

This very event happened centuries ago, Xytrisae silently remarks remembering the vexation by Prince Balor himself, on a hill, in Creation, where the rain stung at her, and the wind scoured her formed body. That had been a bitter affair with Ishiiki against her and Balor’s piercing gaze. She had felt less real under that gaze, feared that she would be made a mere dream. She had trembled and waited to be unmade.

“I will return to Creation, as I did before I shall do so again.”

He grabs Xytrisae by her long hair and turns her to face him, cupping her chin in his hand. He looks at her and smirks. “You are strong, much like the tales of your formless self before. But you are formed now, and I will possess your Heart Grace.”

“Likely not,” Xytrisae tell him with a flat tone. “Prince Balor himself attempted to take my Graces but a strange event happened then to spare me.”

“Is this true,” he asks looking to see if lies were held in her green eyes, and she smiles to him.

“Do you all wish to hear the tale, of how the Azure River escaped with all her Graces from Prince Balor, who was quite impressive there?” Xytrisae smiles as everyone agrees, the Azure Rive of Song and Sword had them now in the palm of her hand. “You see it started…”