Love Lost: Part IV

Through the long months, the adventurers of Sapience again and again gathered to repel the incursions of the Lament, whose music tormented souls across the mainland nearly unto madness.

The mortals of Sapience proved the stronger each time. While they did battle, regrouping with their loved ones in between bouts with the Eternal Song, a single solitary figure descended from her mountain home to walk the lands she came to know so well over the centuries.

The Muse Ferenthal traveled over the isles of Hallowed Targossas, feeling the cool water of the Silverveil between her fingertips as she strode where mortals once prayed for a miracle. She gazed upon the great tree in the Village of Eleusis, sharing in the many quiet moments to which it bore witness in the modern age. She listened to the music in Mhaldor Cathedral, lost in the vim and vigour of the fury of Malevolence and His servants, their iron resolve as unyielding as the black stone of His edifice. Her quiet moment in the butterfly garden of Cyrene’s Imperium recalled the serenity of halcyon days when the city brimmed with song. In Ashtan, she stood at the circle of the Tree King and recalled the dancing and rejoicing following the raising of the bridge across the Accra river so long ago. Finally, she gazed upon the night sky in the planetarium of Hashan, admiring the mortal spirit to defy the limitations the world seeks to impose.

In each of these locations and every other she tread, she remembered always her Lord’s words:

If you choose to do this, you will be no more.

She did not regret asking to staunch the wound caused by Love’s unguarded realm. The price, though, engendered a deep sense of loneliness at the thought of losing everything she’d come to know. When she arrived at the Shrine of Ascension, the Lament returned, beckoned by her wounded heart and unyielding will.

Upon the Lament’s final defeat, the Great Bard returned to Sapience. He said His final farewell to His most beloved Muse, knowing what came next would make it impossible to look upon this most loyal of companions ever again. She accepted His love and His blessing, and hand-in-hand with the Lament, surrendered to her new charge.

But Scarlatti’s Divine will was not enough. The responsibility for the Gods’ realms is not one easily transcended, and the transgression of unilateral appointment was a challenge even He could not overcome alone.

Only through Phaestus’ intervention and Their shared sacrifice could the barrier be overcome. Ferenthal, Witness of Love was raised as the Celani guarding Selene and formerly Eros’ realm, the turmoil plaguing the mortals of Sapience contained at long last. All was well once more, the fabric of Creation made more vibrant for Their action.

Such victories do not come without cost, however. The Jade Empress reminded Her Brother of the price to be paid, and timeless law exacted its toll. Scarlatti’s snow-white wings, a joy since time immemorial, blackened and melted away, undone in His sacrifice. His azure gaze bled their hue and turned a wiser, more temperate grey in outward reminder of what He gave up to preserve mortality’s ability to feel and express emotion.

~ ~ ~

Summary: Ferenthal, the Muse sacrificed herself to become the new custodian of the realm of Love. With Phaestus’ help, Scarlatti destroyed His faithful companion so that she might be remade a Celani and thus fulfill her new duties.

Penned by My hand on the 12th of Mayan, in the year 984 AF.