The Sentinels τέλος

for days, the father has faltered, retreating from his place in the sky where he gazes upon his mother and his children with such adoration; each night the proof of his weakness stares, soul-piercing, a single slit pupil suspended among the stars. on this day, nausicaä knows, pontus will fall again — the eternal song will cease just for a breath, and silence will fall over the land as it did so long ago. weighed heavily as if anchored to the ocean's floor by this knowledge, the wolfdog weaves with weary steps among the deadland. the wild ruin feels surreal; shards of hazy sunlight cut through the scant filter of towering dead sequoias kissed ashen and black by flame, a kaleidoscope of pale silver-gold hovering in wispy splinters over the faded dusky forest floor. against the muted, dimming autumn sky, the trees stand stark and ominous. the wolfdog's own coat of chrome and shadow is set nearly aglow under the current of rippling light as the slim figure drifts under massive looming corpses and over blackened tree limbs and tiny tentative attempts at new growth under the ruin. salt hangs heavy in the air, thick and cloying and bitter at once; death and the sea, joined. the perfect place to pray, to mourn. only the endless crash of waves, the whisper of light paws across the ground, and the breath in the wolfdog's own throat cut the silence — but they are never alone.
even as the sun crawls to its den below the earth and leaves all the lowly creatures to suffer the horror of infinite dark, their guardian orbits. his presence is a soothing balm to ananke's prickling skin, cool water over the grief burning in their heart for pontus. yet the wolfdog dare not lay eyes on their companion now; the sun descends rapidly, and soon their father's absence from the sky will be all too apparent. soon the grief will cut unfettered into their souls, arcing like lightning across the bond they share, and they too will descend. there are preparations to be made — rituals to be completed before they can rest and lament — oh! nausicaä's heart flutters frantically, steps becoming dizzied and uneven as the breath hitches in their throat. "@Hephaestus," their cry is soft, almost a plea, champagne eyes still fixed ahead. we must hurry; we have already shirked so many of our duties.

He did not go far from them. His ashen form lingering behind their salt-kissed a respectfully large distance. Out of sight but never out of mind. He needed to check for the safety of where they had come to. The trees that stand are charred — weak — and others seem to have succumb to the ashy fate of something he cannot imagine.

Dark nostrils flared with displeasure at the place yet they did not have much option, did they? The displeasure of Thalassa secured their fate of no return. It stings slightly but their mother has never led them wrong and their father will nurse their wounds through the lonely nights. Even he, stoic as he is, seems to be touched with an inkling of sadness. Yet he would never dream of changing the course of history. Nausicaä is safe and they are all he is truly tethered to at the end of days.

Their cry causes his large, sharp ears to fly up. His silver eyes speedily search for their form as he closes any former distance between them. He had been in orbit before but much like a comet he was destined to close into them.

He does not speak when he arrives, merely saddles up to their side, shoulder against their's. He hopes he presence offers physical and emotional support to the Conduit. A soft rumble builds in his chest but is smothered out before it can escape his jaws.

I'm here.

the faint rustle of movement soothes the wolfdog, trembling forelimbs slowly steadying as their ashen guardian draws closer. scarlet warmth blossoms from the sleek warrior’s touch, grounding and intoxicating in equal measures. a breathy sigh slips from slightly-parted lips, eyelids fluttering half-closed. ananke pours into the embrace of their soulbound, soft and pliant as a gentle lapping wave at the shore. they feel the smooth ripple of muscle against their own salt-stiffened coat, the steady thrum of tantalus’ heart, the whisper of his breath buried under the constant crash of the ocean. they feel the ancient, predatory magick that twists and writhes within the midnight-touched telkhine, the source of their bond. unbidden, images of ruined amaranthine spring forth within the wolfdog’s mind, and the conduit shies from the touch. grief bubbles and rises in their throat, spilling past quivering lips as a soft, tremulous whine. the rare softness to their gaze lingers, but they turn from their companion with renewed anxiety.
”he falls tonight,” a gently chimed reminder, no louder than a whisper. nausicaä’s head dips toward the forest floor, searching, as light steps carry them toward the cold salt-spray of the sea. mere moments pass before their gait falters, then ceases, muzzle planted to the ground in a place of clear significance. the wolfdog rummages, shifting earth and ash that leaves a dusky tint to their inkjet lips, and emerges from the dust clutching something small, something pale. the bone is brittle, scorched in places; a treasure among the ruins for the tribal wolves. lifting their muzzle proudly to the sky, nausicaä spins with skittering, haphazard steps to present their treasure to hephaestus, eyes sparkling and dancing through the mist.

Tantalus always felt soothed by the presence of Ananke. It was only when they were alone and close that he could truly acknowledge the feelings. Although he would not lie, the feelings were always there. Just at different frequencies.

The anxiety that radiates off of them is consumed by his steel wall of emotions. He wants to take all the hurt from them, to eat it whole and spill it into the oceans. Tantalus roared within him to protect them at every cost. Harm would not come to them again if he could help it. Hephaestus stayed respectful of his boundaries with them though. He did not force himself upon them for comfort. He simply released another soft rumble of warmth to remind them he was here. Not everything was lost. Could they believe that much for him?

His tail swayed in a half circle at their words. His preferred tongue always so tasteful like honey when they spoke it. His Pontus eyes watch as they spin, something clutched between their teeth. An ivory item that seemed to have been hidden within the ash. He gave a rumble of approval before shuffling the ashes with his own inky nose in search of his own item. It took a few long silent moments before he found something settled into the ashy earth. It had been placed here recently. He could only imagine a wayward cub might have dropped it or even scuffling birds.

He clutched a seashell between his teeth with care before he made his move to show the Conduit.

their gaze traces their guardian's movements adoringly, thick silver-and-ink plume swaying as hephaestus scans the ground. time slows into thick honey falling between towering scorched trees, distorting even the rumble of the waves to the wolfdog's ears as their focus centers on him. the air buzzes heavily, pins and needles prickling their skin, and they shift almost imperceptibly. joy brightens their champagne eyes as hephaestus pauses, ears perking to full height. a flash of alabaster under the fading sunlight catches their gaze. a seashell, ridged and wide, lightly dusted in ash and dirt. the wolfdog's lips curve, hinting at a smile; the father will be pleased with their offerings tonight, they are sure. it is a greater comfort than any other in the wake of their loss.
movement catches their eye, brief and faint, as time returns to itself. nausicaä grows still, gaze sharpening upon the forest floor as even their breath ceases for several beats. a scorched, rotting branch shifts just slightly, and from beneath it emerges a thin, disheveled mouse. the creature is vastly out of place in the desolate forest; lost, perhaps. an unfortunate fate. on any other night, the telkhine might turn their gaze from the creature and think no more of it — but this night, pontus demands sacrifice. swift steps carry them forward even before the thought forms fully, muzzle dipping low as the bone falls from their grasp. their jaws close around the mouse a moment later, jerking upward and releasing to flip the creature onto its back. one paw darts out to press it into the earth as it falls, and the wolfdog moves quickly to take each delicate limb between their teeth, wrenching them violently from the mouse's body. the conduit is deaf to the creature's wails, thinking only of pontus — they must hurry, now, to present this sacrifice to their father.

u know the drill, hover

Hephaestus watched them and the joy that his presentation brings them causes a warm feeling to build inside him. Hephaestus and Tantalus are pleased that he did good tonight. Their happiness — their approval — means more than anything else to the guardian. He can not, would not, stop the rumbling that built inside of his chest at the hintings of a smile on their face.

He held onto his gift tightly as their form moved to grab at something he had not yet spotted. The sounds made it clear what was being done, though. A small creature had fell prey to their ritual tonight. Only when he thought she might be done did he dare to say something in dark, deep, velvet tones.

Θα είναι περήφανος.

Hephaestus spoke with confidence. Their father would love them, nurture them, support them through the darkness. He knew it. And he had Nausicaä to thank for it all.