What have we become?

[Ragon]

Seer Hamdel found Tindale alone again, and knew her pain.
While Tindale saw people's emotions and was a perfect monitor of people's moods, Hamdel's blessing - or curse - was to sense when someone was in pain, and know the cause of it. There had been times when he wa wrong...but this ability had grown over the years of war and strife as he was exposed to more and more pain.

"Tindale..." Hamdel started.
"Hamdel, can you feel it? Is despair pain? Can you sense it among us?" Tindale spoke, softly, drawing Hamdel closer so he could hear.

"Despair is something everyone can sense, Tindale. It does not take my powers to feel it. I feel pain too..." Hamdel replied, staring across the landscape of the FMS from the balcony.

The moon was high, lighting everything in silver and blue. It was disturbingly peaceful for the strife occuring in the galaxy.

"Things were so promising...I thought at last, for sure, the council would be as it should for years to come. Hope was all we needed, and had it we did. Now it is as if our heart has been removed, and slowly we are bleeding into a hole that we cannot fill..." Tindale whispered.

Wind swept across the building, whipping Tindale's hair into her face as she huddled closer to herself. Hamdel, many heads above her, looked down at her figure and had a fleeting moment of anger, at himself, the council, the Empire, and at him...who had left them with no word again. He, who had flared like a supernova then passed into seemingly another universe. He, who no Seer could sense, who no Seer had had vision of, heard of.

Tindale straightened at the red flash of anger beside her.

"Don't be angry at him. You know as well as I that he would be here if possible."

Tindale had lost credibility in the council after His disappearance. She had tried to carry on his teachings, had tried to hold things together, to keep his legacy alive while he was gone. But slowly, only she and Hamdel remained in full support of his ways, while others had distorted them for their own benefit...

Tindale turned her eyes back in the Council building, and saw nothing but the blackness of despair and loss.

"What have we become?"

[Ragon]

Petrograd shown brightly in the sunlight of the FMS sun, a brilliant light which Consul Eradani had frequently describes as "the light that would illuminate the universe," a statement reflecting his belief that the sun embodied what the FMS should be.

However, at this time, it just seemed a bleaching light, which if anything, illuminated his and his brother Consuls' failure.

The Mon Calamari, Trent, was also present in the room, but often, he was so engrossed in his work, it was like he was in another time and place. Consul Eradani's sigh, however, seemed to be a call across the universe to the Calamari's knowing mind.

"Eradani...what is wrong old friend?" The Calamari asked, right eye peering over to his Consul with brotherly love.

Strange, how the Mon Cal's right eye'd look could be one of absolute hate or absolute love. It was apparent, of course, which he meant for his fellow Consul.

Eradani started, forgetting that the Calamrian was in the room with him, quiet as he was. He almost laughed at himself, but his mood got the better of him.

"Trent...we have done so little during this war...we have spread so little faith, it is disturbing. Despite our efforts in the university, little has been done to advance hope, or peace, throughout the Empire. What have we become?" Eradani asked, his eyes searching for the answer on Trent's face.

The Calamari visage, however, was unyielding.

"Eradani, you cannot compare yourself to anyone. It is not proper for one being to expect more of himself than he is. Your are different than anyone else, and you cannot hope to do things exactly as they. Look at the three of us! We are all so different, yet so important to running these states. It would be impossible for one or two of us to do it. The three of us are quite necessary to sucess, because we all are different and compliment each other." Trent replied, blinking to emphasize his point.

The sun's light shone into the room as a cloud mosied out of the way, prompting Eradani to look away.

"I do not try to do anything other than what I am good at. I am just concerned with our inability to cope with the changes at hand. We have not been able to preserve the idealism that filled these states not long ago. We have not been able to keep faith in the Empire in the Mastermind ideals during this time of extreme opposites. Katarne is gone, and this new Emperor is quite different. I just cannot understand why we are not able to keep up with the times..."

"Just because things in the universe are different than what we are used to, doesn't mean it is right. And just because we haven't been able to keep things as perfect as we would like, doesn't mean we are meant to. Sometimes it takes a dark night to let us appreciate the sun."

Eradani opened his mouth to say something, but the Calamari was already back at his work. Looking back out the window, the light seemed more welcome to Eradani as Petrograd entered midday.

[Katarne]

The Rodian Bur-Oldan, his presence apparently forgotten, lay resting on a velvet divan, appearing asleep, but listening intently to the conversation between his fellow Consuls, Trent and Eradani.  Without getting up to look, he knew that Eradani was still standing looking out the window, staring out at Bespin's unusually regular and brilliant sun, the same as he had even a decade ago. He also knew what Trent was doing...sitting at his desk, bent over some popularist bill or something being presented for approval from the Council.

The Rodian himself did not have an answer to Eradani's question. What had they become? Bur-Oldan would perhaps answer that they had become silhouettes. Shadows of what the great Sage Consul Kent Quartze had set out to prove when he had established the Federation of Marivauxen States, warring against his own Lord Emperor Viperon, and succeeding, then putting in place a worthy trinity of Consuls to rule the Federation.  Bur-Oldan remembered how the Federation had then, under the Sage Consul, come to rule the entire galaxy, with Quartze taking on as colleague Consuls, his own former Lord Emperor, and the Emperor of the Legion.  Thus the trinity had come to rule everything, the entire galaxy, and unite all peoples in perfect harmony under the Marivauxen way.

Then Bur-Oldan thought of the current Emperor, Katarnus Friedrich I, whose prime concern was war, it seems.  He had even re-written the Manifesto to proclaim Imperial sovereignty over all territory, a claim, which if accepted by his successors, would almost certainly be a provision for any war in the Madronnese [the M%M galaxy]. Perhaps it was time again for the Consuls to war against their Emperor, like their great Father did, the Sage son of Katarne...  Yes, Bur-Oldan rose up on his divan, feigning fatigue, and quickly cocked his head over to Eradani.

He informed his brother that it was time. It was time that they consult the Sage himself, they, all three of them, knew how, and that is what they must do.  For, he assured, the FMS must take it upon itself to undo the evil that formed a halo around Friedrich's crown, and if not destroy the Emperor, they must work to convert him, and bring him to a proper view of Proportion.  For the Emperor had apparently lost his sense of that.  So, they must consult the Sage Consul, Bur-Oldan re-iterated, they all three knew how.

[And this task, I leave to you, dear Ragon. I also commend you for paying such minute attention to the details in my proceeding posts on the FMS and the Consuls thereof. I have always wanted this sort of mutual character/faction development, with attention to minute details, but have not quite seen it done (despite my own efforts) in the entire 4 years of this RP.]

[Ragon]

Darkness. That was the closest thing it could be described as. It wasn't even darkness...it was complete lack of sensory of any kind. Ragon only knew that somehow he was conscious. He didn't remember how he got here, he had no idea where or when it was, but he was sure it wasn't a dream.

He sat in this void for a seemingly infinite length of time, only aware of himself because of the lack of any other sensation. Suddenly, like a thunder clap far above, terrible yet fascinating all at the same time, a voice exploded into his mind.

"Your time was not yet to be. The right man in the wrong time does no good in this matter I am afraid."

Other voices slowly began to emerge, quiet and distant, unintelligible at first.

"Look how the Council fell into disarray the moment of your disappearance. They must learn this lesson on their own if we are too be successful."

The other voices, now whispers, finally reached coherency.

"Is despair pain?" a barely audible voice echoed near him.

"Your faith was not blinding to you, but to others it was so. They did not have true faith, and so could not set before the task with the proper vigor and fortitude."

Again, the quiet voices whispered, now loud enough to tell that this was a man far away, "We have not been able to preserve the idealism that filled these states not long ago."

"Your conviction and faith were what allowed me to bring you here. Only to the faithful will the joy of completing one's purpose come."

"What have we become?" an all too familiar voice rang in Ragon's mind, prompting a rush of activity in his mind.

"Sometimes it takes experiencing utter despair to restore one's faith..."

Now further away than before, almost gone from whatever perception this was of Ragon's, a voice whispered eerily, " Sometimes it takes a dark night to let us appreciate the sun..."

Then, again all was silent. Ragon thought he was alone again, in his void...
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Suddenly, blue fires blazed, a figure of blue and white, flanked by two guards and backed by three robed figures nearly blinded him with unnatural light. The twelve standards shown brightly, the figure on the throne glaring at Ragon with burning conviction.

"You will show them the way, and they will know that you are above their judgment and doubt. When the time is right, you will show them!"

The throne room disappeared as quickly as it had appeared, though it remained burned in Ragon's memory with violent precision.
Slowly, everything faded away, all light and sound vanished, and Ragon again lost the semblance of conciousness he had moments ago held.