A small hysterical laugh exited the knights from his throat and through his slightly ajar mouth. His eyes were still glued to the inscription of the Sword Maiden, but his mind had since stopped caring about the phrase that had mystified him for so long. The hollow, feather-ruffling laugh didn't quite fit the image Kanaft had of the knight–which was particularly confusing considering his new found understanding of the metaphorical ugly, yet, despite that, he still could not comprehend it. The darkness felt a bit more distressing after the revelation.When he saw the depiction of a sunless, moonless sky in Soven's tomb of rebirth, he had figured it to be some metaphor for dark times that had passed through the lands–perhaps a war of some kind, but not that there was literally a dark time! A ragged breath of acknowledgment left his mouth, as the sparks of his maniacal, breathy laugh sizzled out into nothing more than a sputter, then, completely disappearing.
When his laugh faded into the dreary, eerie darkness that sparkled with the firelights of distant wars across the forest, the knight slowly rose from his comfortable place against the warm side of his partner. The death of a star was not something the knight was not particularly knowledgeable on, but he knew for a fact that stars don't just become immortal creatures that roam the mortal plane, while lording over such a small portion of this overly gigantic world–with overly gigantic creatures living in it. Now that he thought about it, the sun had always been an entity worthy of the title peculiar. During his time, there had been a time–a single moment, something so insignificant, yet so… opposing. Gathering his thoughts, the knight raised his quiet concerns with the revelations.
"If Eos has been on these lands for as long as I think then–then what is that thing that watches over the days?" The question in his voice was faint, like a cry for help in a distant land, drifting away with the breeze, yet never carried far enough to be heard. It was a question Kanaft had no answer for.
"I am not sure, Elder. Though If I were to strain myself to guess, then I would say that it is a fixture–or a placeholder, of sorts." It was an ominous premonition, but the knight didn't seem to catch onto that fact and instead focused on the idea that the sun was some imposter far removed from the being that was truly the sun–from Soven's depictions, it was easy to see that Eos had been the light of the realm for a much shorter time than the Sun had–and that thought was almost amusing. The legends of the great Phoenix descending somehow weren't far removed from the actual truth–and that alone was something worth questioning. It was one thing for a faint light in the background of the night sky to have descended, which by itself could be considered the ramblings of a madman, if it wasn't considered to be the truth so widely, but for the sun itself to fall to the planet it's been illuminating since its existence came to be? That was something that could very well get you put away for a long, long time. Of course it would be for 'healing' and 'rehabilitation' but everyone knew it was just a way to keep the snow-faced ones out of the public eye. He knew it better than most, in fact.
Shaking his head from the invasive thoughts of home, and the past, the knight responded, "How do you think the legend of your father lasted so long without being twisted in a way that was removed from the original tale?" He was already getting up from against Kanaft's side and raised his hands high into the air, stretching out the kinks in his back when he heard the murmur of his Soul Beasts' response.
"Because even though the sands of time can blow over the past, the past never truly goes away, and sometimes, the sands of time are simply too insignificant to blow over the past. In this case, fathers coming to power and consciousness was an event too important to be forgotten–something so important it ingrained, and rooted itself into the memory of all who watched–which would lead to the oral depiction of the event to nearly never fade." To the knight, the theory was sound enough, so he didn't comment on it any further. Rising Tide in hand, he stared at his other hand for a moment–considering, and weighing his next action carefully. Would he really need that meat shield for this? They were far too annoying to be left around, but the extra boost in Kanaft's fire could be very useful–but at the same time, he only had one Bearing Bead, and he'd rather save it for a life or death situation.
It took a little longer than a minute for the knight to arrive at his decision, and beyond his better judgement, he reached his single sheathed arm behind his back–which he noted was much easier now–and pressed his thumb against the Thoracic region of his spine and let the creature summon itself into his hand.
Feeling the familiar weight of the heavy metal shield in his hand as the leather straps quickly fastened themselves to the man's forearm like a constricting serpent about to eat its prey. Wreathed in the darkness of the extinguished candle that is Moyra, he could not see the object now bound to him, but he knew that coppery scent anywhere. The ever shifting faces, the eyes glossed over with insanity, the teeth too crooked and eroded to eat, and the skin that covered the entire front of the lengthy tower shield. He shivered as the faint whisper of those familiar voices wisped out of their slightly ajar, uneven lips. The large intake of air from the oversize, sideways nose that didn't have any of the set of eyes, or the several mouths. The few voices giggled, and in that moment, the knight was sure he had made a mistake.
Moving his hand back to its resting position, he looked at Kanaft in embarrassment, "I apologize for them. These fools are rather–disjointed." He barely found the words to express and describe the people and the madness they carried in this shield. They had often annoyed him so much that he had thrown the shield into nearby valleys, oceans, or off of cliffs just to get away from it for a while before summoning it again in the midst of battle, with sometimes years in between each summon.
"It is alright–Elder. Though I do hope there is a reason for such an abomination…" Though the bird could not see the shield from his position, he could hear the various sounds that ejected from the various orifices of the inanimate object, and was not fond of how they tickled every sense just enough to agitate him. At that very moment, the thing licked all over its face with its several tongues at once, creating a cacophony of sounds that just weren't normal.
"This thing has a rather amazing ability–anything magical that is sent towards it, it consumes it through its several, perpetually ajar mouths, and sends it back out at double the force and magical capability. Though we only have one shot at it, currently." Of course Kanaft already knew this, but he did have to play into the part of one who did not.
"And why do we only have one shot with it?" This was something he was actually slightly curious about. There were many secrets hidden in the mind of the knight, all held tightly behind lock and key–who made these locks, the titan wing did not know, but it was rather annoying. He was pulled out of his musing, when his keen hearing picked up the sound of something rolling on something made of metal, Kanaft felt a metaphorical lantern flicker to life.
"Sadly, this horrendous thing requires something called a Bearing Bead." The Bearing Bead–what a terrible creation. A human soul shrunk through hours of bleak agony into a small, easily transportable powersource–a powersource used in those unholy experiments against humanity. The experiments, spells and alchemy that would lead to the first of many ever-lasting creatures–creatures of mass destruction. The Bearing gave it all power–it was the heart, which gave the knight pause for a moment, a thought crossing his mind.
'If he was really behind the Necromancer–why was there no Bearing?' It was something he had not really considered–but, really, where was the Bearing Bead? It was definitely made with that same malicious book as he himself was, and the shield–so where did its source go?
Eventually, he gave up on trying to figure out the mystery–or perhaps he had simply missed it in the heat of the moment. It wasn't that important, anyway. "Shall we head to the battlefield?"
Kanaft simply lowered himself, enough to where the knight was able to climb his way onto the bird's back. It was a struggle for the knight as there wasn't much he could hold onto while trying to get onto the enormous bird's back, especially without stabbing him with Rising Tide, but, thankfully, he got up without any incident. Now sitting on the back of the bird again, he let his obsidian hand glide through the deeply maroon feathers, while the shield continued to mutter and mumble incoherently, but he didn't pay the odd being much attention, as there was still much to consider, and they still had some time before they emerged through the leafless canopy, so he decided to do some information gathering.
"Kanaft–what can you reveal about the Guardian Conflagrations?" The question was honest, yet Kanaft still didn't know how to answer. There was simply so much to say about the two, yet, only so little mattered in this moment–and the little that did matter, he did not know. As he took off into the thicket, he finally spoke up, honesty on his tongue.
"There is nothing that is of immediate importance, but only one of them was born from The Inferno. Father made all things in this forest, including the forest itself, but there are some existences in this forest that father graced with blessings of fire after their initial creation. Most of the dragon species were blessed by father with the miraculous gift of breathing flame, but some had refused–choosing to find their own paths, but Shreifaya, like many of her kind, chose fire as her element, but unlike them–she never abandoned father to rape the lands of this world with the gift that was bestowed upon them, and because of that, she was continuously blessed with more and more responsibility, flame, and trust. I doubt any dragon aside from the Allfather himself was as strong as she." He concluded for a moment, and allowed the words to simmer in the knight's mind before continuing.
"As for Umor–he wields fire unlike any being I have ever seen. Before the time of the Great Empress of old, a great fire ravaged the lands–and father sent the greatest Incarnante he had ever made to end the fire. The fire had consumed the peaks of mountains all the way to depths of lakes all across the land–and–yet, Umor had silenced nature's agony with a swipe of his hand made entirely of fire. He is a force of destructive nature controlled, and an enemy I never wish to face. Father may be able to incinerate the planet and leave a ball of charcoal in moments, but Umor isn't benevolent–he does what father does–and since father fell to slumber–he has been aimless, and an aimless force of nature is a calamity."
The knight shivered–there was nothing quite like hearing the bird describe his kin. The awe, mixed with terror, and the hard facts always painted a grim image, and now, it has grown even more grim. What a troubling situation he found himself in. A dragon fighting a creature born to comply, that has no one to comply with anymore. Not realizing it, the knight let loose a sigh as the wind around him dragged it away–he was doing that more and more these days, and he didn't like it.
"I hope you have a plan, friend, because I have nothing."
"I believe I do, Elder, and it is quite simple."
"Then let's hear it."