The Ogre Strength Fairy and the Eldest 'Son'-Chapter 465 - A Mirror To Your Spite, A Shackle To Your Silvered Memory
In a distant place of the very stabilized pocket dimension - ’new’ qualities that had done as much to allow her a temporary entry as it did prevent her from being flung *completely* out by a mere Lower Realm reincarnator - the Silver Divinity descended on the campsite of an exiled noble scholar. Or perhaps it was more appropriate to say she came into visibility without as much of a spiritual sound or light show as she had done for the added dramatics. The exiled noble scholar she decided to poke at next sat cross-legged amid his hoard.
Various curiosities, collected over the months since he took a camp of his own, occupied every flat surface of his camp - and too many on areas that were not at all so flat, stacked not so stable and sure to fall if she made a ’big rumble’. Crystals from the Exclave’s depths with strange metallic inclusion patterns compared to their world, peculiar plant specimens seeming to grow gold flakes out to the tips of their leaves, and a few fragments of stone with naturally occurring patterns that reminded him of certain sigils... because of course *that* was something he would find pretty.
But not an ounce of Silver at all. Yet his gaze was turned in the direction the wedding was happening this morning. A letter on one of Elua’s tireless spiritual constructs had told him, warned him of the event. It was too far to see and there wasn’t even actual line of sight from the place he sat, but still he stared... due to the pulse of essence that had thrummed through the entire land. Thinking of his dismissal close to two years ago of a similar phenomena while on the hunt for the micro-sigilist he had grown obsessed finding.
"It was quite the display."
The lilt came from directly behind him, impossible to ignore as it pressed unintentionally on his spirit. Something he was a little used to from the Breacher-level Goltbred heiress, but not possibly immune to from a Divinity. Almost instinctively he wanted to fracture, not in pain but simply as his Astralism’s primary mechanism of dealing with excess pressure ’safely’. But only turning his torso and neck, instead of losing the tight control over the single thread of thought he held on to, he witnessed the avatar of opposing myth and certainty.
Someone he was sure should not be here at all. Which was academically interesting, even as his body stiffened from his anti-social tendency when he had nothing he wanted to gain or talk about with a person. Any other, he may be bold with and insufferable to... and when his voice did come out, it felt more controlled than he thought it would - and exactly as rude.
"I wasn’t prepared to receive guests. Perhaps you could never come back another time?"
The cultivator who had transcended the lower plane turned those luminous eyes on him, smile widening at being interacted with at all. That was surely an opening! Her gaze dropped to his hands - to the rings adorning every finger. Copper, gold, bronze, iron, tin. Metals of all kind that showed off the importance, to him, of his Aspect. The lack of one in particular showing her the importance of his stubborn nature once he had made a decision.
"Blame is an easy thing to do. Excusing things to others, or to yourself, as timing - or as inevitable takes little effort, I’ve been told. But it is not something that exists inherently. You must recognize that one observer’s claim is different from cause and effect, no?"
She didn’t move closer, but her entire limited presence pressed against his spiritual sense. Feeling like liquid mercury searing in the little channels branching across where the entirety of his mental state had recrystallized during the teleportation. The man’s jaw clenched, with one hand curled into a fist. Because one small, former Parallel fragment held the memory of his wife’s voice saying the words: ’it might not be your fault, I do not know’.
"If you’d like to grow up more, you’d realize that her choices now are no longer about you then. Though if you do not want to mature and recognize the difference, that is fine too. I’m sure there is someone out there waiting to teach you more patiently."
Her form began to shimmer, the edges losing cohesion as she melted - literally - into Silver. Pounds of it left behind, not stolen from Elua’s supplies, but *generated* out of raw essence by the woman for whom Upper Realm tricks through an avatar was the same sort of child’s play she thought both of these sigilists needed. It spread against an impossible vertical plane where she had been, remaining molten and gleaming like a mirror that reflected the face he had been making.
Madrigil stared at the liquid metal - the substance he’d refused to interact with for decades. The substance he’d excised from all parts of his life, along with connections to his failed marriage. Just like he had been doing with his fracturable mind... acknowledging the existence of things scholarly, but turning his interest in other directions almost forcefully.
His body and face loosened without much more thought. Shoulders dropping, breath he had been holding since he turned her way finally releasing as he reached for Metal control like an instinct older than conscious thought. The genius of his family, manipulating dishes, utensils, doorknobs, and all sorts of things that frustrated his caretakers by the age of five in a way he could not so easily explain to *normals*... but surpassed that of those twice or thrice his age easily.
Silver flowed in thick, jagged streams out of the ’blessing’ left behind. Primitive and emotional manipulation, none of his usual functional ease and elegant control. Twisting upward and wrapping in twin around his wrists like lumpy serpentine manacles as he emptied the mirror of liquid, it solidified into thick bands that looked like either stylized bangles or curious shackles - depending on one’s mood and temperament.
"If you’re still watching, I’ll declare myself married to Sigilry and be done with it."
His sentence carried the actual bite of sarcasm, the childish edge of spite. A last word, even knowing she couldn’t or wouldn’t respond. Quite unlike the teenager who had booted her away and then continued on as if nothing had happened. Madrigil had been much more affected, much more kicked in the pants.
He closed his eyes, turned his face, and began to cultivate again. Instead of pretending to. His spirit stirred for the first time in months - churned unstably rather than fed through a careful path. The potential for division of the linked fragments flickered so consciously at the edges... that chaos he’d escaped when entering this place. He reached for it in a test.
’One split. Just one.’
A second voice of thoughts separated from the first. This one carrying all the drab bitterness, all the miring negativity about his former marriage and former actions and inactions that he’d been ignoring. If it was going to be part of him anyway, he would let it exist ’over there’... still quiet in the background of the overall spiritual sense. Still weaker than the ’main’ mind. But something he could intentionally observe when necessary.
"I do not need to be taught more patiently. A cultivator that wants to see the heights of my ’beloved’ sigils just needs to keep moving forward, instead of circling in place."
Despite his words, he was indeed following the advice of an ancient cultivator to set up intentional, subordinate places for his thoughts - instead of dividing everything up so nearly equally that his Astralism seemed to do by default. The silver bands around his wrists seemed to pulse once, with a similar ripple of approval as it held for the young wedded couple. Pairings that were content to move in circles together were intriguing... and all kinds of committed love were her hobby.
But pairs - or the potential of them - that held a drive to make it to Divinity and increase the amount of couples she had to interact with? That was a story that would make her giggle in anticipation like any romance lover. For the steps and stumbles along the way as much as the immortal ending.
And the Clairvoyant Divinity was right - those kind of people circled around this reincarnator in a very Auspicious manner!
