Hoping for Fjall first since Revui depends on him!
The force that possessed
@Fjall pulled and urged to keep him moving, whether it followed his will or not. So far Fjall had been a willing host; though now that the body neared the well worn paths at the heel of the mountain, things might have changed.
Revui could only go as far as his will would exert. He was attached to the boy and he was weak for a spirit, being so far from his resting place. Yet his insistence that they go to the mountain was like a cascading shout within Fjall's mind. It only quieted when the body moved in the right direction - though it never silenced.
The mantra of
mountain, mountain, mountain matching the beat of the boy's heart.
Mountain. Mountain. Mountain.
Fjall could feel his pulse singing— or was it crying?
He stood upon the threshold of Moonspear, his innate manners superseding his urge to proceed as the spirit bade him. His heart raced as he looked up into the dizzying heights before him, and he felt a wellspring of emotions simmering beneath his skin.
Immense joy. Earnest apprehension. Smoldering wrath. Profound sadness.
Each of them floundered through him like fish racing upstream, and the medium had no idea which of them would rise to the surface first.
He tilted his head back as if urging medicine down his throat and called for Ariadne's
sistraa,
@Sialuk.
It was not enough that they had reached this place. It wasn't until Revui saw the familiar paths that he became somehow cognizant of where they were, at least more fully than before, and wanted to pull at Fjall and make him march up, up, up, to his proper place upon the mountain.
Where was his sister, Hydra?
Where was his mother Amekaze or his father Charon?
His brother, Arcturus?
He was not meant to be alone. Revui's soul pulled and pulled and pulled at Fjall, growing stronger here where his blood was meant to rest, and where his blood had risen to power. It was the blood of the mountain and would be, always. Here where Revui was meant to rest, or at least to linger, where the others had perished.
He lamented. He raged. He coveted, and called with all his might, screaming in to the trees —
—but it was Fjall's voice that carried up, calling a name he did not know.