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The Songbird

@ruetto

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dawnsavant
smoothbrains asked:

Oh shit, Andy's gone powermad with his own Reverberating Hymn. Who better to counter that than Ruetto?

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dawnsavant answered:

There’s something melancholy in seeing two people who are close and fond of one another being pressed into combative situations by circumstance.

In a situation like that, Andreo would not be an easy target to approach. Just short of transfiguration and holding the kind of spell meant to blanket a field in the sun’s light? Better not to approach his person at all. It would be a bullet hell of magic; pushing through burning halos and rippling waves of light.

He cannot hold a spell like that by hand, however. A focusing array would be necessary. Machinery or crystals to hold elements of the spell together - disable them, disarm him. The man himself would be a simple matter… if she could get to him.

Ruetto has several unique advantages, granted. She knows some of his casting tricks even if it’s been a long time since she’s seen him fight much. She can rather easily manipulate his senses, maybe even pick up clues on how to disarm him from his own head. And, of course, such bright light would probably result in dark shadows she could use to her advantage.

Fly fast, songbird.

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ruetto

He stood - no, hovered - at the center of a clearing, aglow and unrecognizable.  The form of wings and rotating gears, a construct - no, it was something separate from him, not a part of him, even if all the light he bathed in made it hard to tell where he ended and the mechanism sustaining his spell began.  It all made him look very -- unreal.

Don’t kill him, please - if there’s even the remotest hope for an alternative, please- please.

The Frozen Lord’s pleas rang in her ears and she shook them off, focusing.  Andreo knew she was there, lingering in the shadow of a tree.  Was there anything quite out of his sight?  He’d know when she moved, even if he might not be quick enough to see where she’d moved.  He had little option but to burn away each tree she ducked behind, remove each obstacle that cast shadows in the light of his burning song.  He must have known what she was there for.

It hurt her ears.  It was beautiful and terrible and she ached to sing with him, but fear snipped her vocal chords as severely as long-laid-to-rest suggestions planted in her mind.  Daggers burned in her hands just as lively, the shadow runes at their edges as irate at the proximity of counter-magic as she was on her own.

Fly fast, songbird.

It was almost a taunt, a tease, altogether fond and cruel as golden leaves and branches caught gold fire and seared them down to consecrated charcoal, wisps and tiny tendrils of burning light that hurt to look at rained down in waves and she had one shot.  Just one shot.

#the songbird#the dawn priest#AU prompt#writing prompt#sorry i had to add to this lmfao
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thenimbus-deactivated20200907

CATHARSIS

[noun]

1. the purging of the emotions or relieving of emotional tensions, especially through certain kinds of art, as tragedy or music.

2. Medicine/Medical: purgation.

3. Psychiatry: a) psychotherapy that encourages or permits the discharge of pent-up, socially unacceptable affects. b) discharge of pent-up emotions so as to result in the alleviation of symptoms or the permanent relief of the condition.

Etymology: from New Latin, from Greek katharsis, from kathairein, “to purge, purify”.

[Brooke Shaden - Catharsis]

#the songbird
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dawnsavant
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coffeeandleatherboundbooks
‘Isn’t it lonely without him?’ ‘It’s like the stars forgot to come out one night and instead I was left in the dark, wondering what I could do to make them come back.’

j.f // but they were too far away to listen to my tears • excerpts of stories I will never write (via coffeeandleatherboundbooks)

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