windhover | keep the wind to your back and the sun on your face

who?

Valya

elsewhere

Title: Tidal
Word count: ~2,400
Warnings: none in particular
Summary: Two Orion agents discover that godhood and wisdom are not mutually inclusive.
Notes: Probably none of this will make any sense to anyone who hasn't been following various IMRP shenanigans... and until I get those logs set up, that group includes like two or three other people. Uh. Sorry? :Da

“He told me you went to see him.”

Those words were the first Artemis had spoken to Auster since they had set out on this mission, and so he stopped in his tracks. He turned back to find she had done the same.

“He did?”

To that, Artemis said nothing; the look in her eyes was answer enough. Resisting the urge to wince, Auster turned again to continue on. Their target had last been spotted somewhere in this forest, according to the preliminary report—

“What did you talk about?”

Really, it was a question he should have expected. Auster didn’t turn entirely to face her this time, but he did look back at Artemis. “Now is not the time for this discussion.”

“Then when?” The tone in her voice was enough indication that she wasn’t about to let the matter drop.

“Later.”

“Auster.”

This time, he did wince. As much as Auster didn’t want to discuss this, there was still one thing he knew he couldn’t escape. He sighed softly and turned back to her once again.

“I am,” he started, very nearly stumbling on the words, “deeply sorry for what I did.”

Artemis made no response, instead watching him with the same stoic expression as before. Auster had known her long enough to take her impassive silence as a loss for words, and so decided to continue.

“I knew from the moment I said those things—I crossed the line. If there was some way I could ever take it all back, then…” After trailing off into silence, he bowed his head. “I am sorry.”

Though he kept his head bowed, he could tell from her silence that she was still at a loss. When he looked up again, her own head was turned away.

“I…” But she fell silent again and bit her lip.

“Yes?”

After some time, she finally shook her head and met Auster’s gaze again. “Now is…not the time for this discussion.”

Auster gave a small nod. “Agreed.”

“Read me the mission brief again, would you?”

He still wasn’t sure that the tension between them had eased in the slightest, but he flipped open his di-comm and complied anyway. “Our target is Rhunis,” he read off the projected screen, “moon deity of Tierrhagan. Our objective is to interrogate him concerning the reports of Tierrhan moonstone found beneath the Knights of the Order of the Falcon’s lair, as well as the powerful entity sealed within.”

Artemis mulled over the data, having apparently moved on from the prior subject entirely. “Tierrhagan is a highly protected world,” she said quietly, “and the gods there are few—correct?”

“And tightly bound to the world itself,” Auster added, scrolling through what scant information on the world they had. “Only recently did the god we seek gain the freedom to move freely from his position on the moon.”

“Ah.” Her brow slightly furrowed. “That would explain what he’s doing outside of Tierrhagan, I suppose.”

“Our secondary orders are to question that, as well.”

“Right.” She started walking again, glancing around at their surroundings as if searching for him. “What other information on him do we have?”

“Not much,” he replied, following while still looking through the di-comm. “Historical accounts concerning events from the world’s creation through its supposed ‘six-hundred-year war’ are unreliable and difficult to obtain; the protective barriers surrounding the world, as well as the cataclysmic forces of mana present during such events, make direct observation impossible.”

Artemis sighed. “Do we have anything?”

“Like I said, not much.” The information really was pitifully scarce. “Folklore commonly depicted him as a large, jolly-tempered old man with an insatiable hunger. The more he ate, the fuller his stomach, and thus the moon grew fuller as well; this was the mythological explanation for the moon’s various phases.”

“A common depiction, yes, but hardly a flattering one—don’t you think?”

The sudden voice set them both on high alert, and barely a second had passed before their guns were trained on the figure behind them. Fortunately, it took only a second more before it was apparent that they had found Rhunis—or, rather, that he had found them.

He sat above them on a tree branch, swinging his legs in a manner that seemed awfully childish for his appearance. He didn’t match the description Auster had given at all, instead appearing to be rather young and lean; his clothing appeared to befit less a god and more some European dandy, though his suit’s silvery hue and matching bowler hat did seem to indicate some wealth. The color of his short hair matched his suit, the color of his eyes was a shade of blue nearly impossible to ignore, and there was an odd, twisted black mark on his face that stretched from his left temple down below his shirt collar.

Auster lowered his weapon, though he did not lower his guard. “You are the god Rhunis, I presume.”

“I’d be worried if you couldn’t figure that out by now,” the god answered teasingly, swinging down off the tree branch and dusting himself off. “But you’re saying it wrong, you know. You have to roll that ‘rh,’ or else you’re taking the divinity right out of my name, and who wants that?”

He said nothing in response, but glanced over at Artemis; despite having lowered her weapon, as well, she looked like she was already getting fed up with this man.

“In any case…” Rhunis gave a sly smile. “Whatever your reason for seeking me, being that I am a god, surely you cannot expect to gain anything from me without some sort of offering.”

“Right.” Auster reached into his jacket, pulled out a small pouch, and tossed it to him. “Will that suffice?”

Rhunis easily caught the pouch, and fumbled it open before spilling some of its contents—bright red gemstones of various sizes—into his hand. His eyes seemed to light up at the sight of them. “Oh, yes,” he said, smile widening. “These will do just fine.”

“We have some questions,” said Artemis, “and we need you to answer them.”

“Ask away,” the god said breezily, though the majority of his attention appeared to be focusing on appraising one gem in particular, turning it over in his hand and holding it up to the sunlight.

“You know of the Knights of the Order of the Falcon, do you not?”

“Can’t say that I do,” Rhunis replied, still looking at the gemstone as it glittered in the light. “Should I?”

“There was a massive lode of Tierrhan moonstone discovered beneath their headquarters—”

“There you go again, with that ‘r’ sound.” Rhunis gave her an exasperated look. “It’s not Tierran, it’s Tierrhan. There’s a difference, you see.”

The tension in the air seemed to rise. Auster wondered if he would have to come between the two at some point during this mission.

“Regardless—do you have any idea how such a large amount of moonstone might have appeared in that world?”

“Beats me. I might be god of the moon, but it’s not like it’s my job to keep track of the stuff.” He popped the stone into his mouth, slightly shivering as he appeared to swallow it whole. “Ooh, that spark… These have been imbued with fire magic, haven’t they?”

Auster glanced out of the corner of his eye to see Artemis giving the god a stunned stare—though whether at his ignorance or what he had just done, he couldn’t be sure. Either way, he had to act quickly. “Yes, I believe so,” he cut in. “Anyway—it was such a large amount, we believe it may have been cleaved from the moon itself. Do you really have no idea how such a thing might have happened?”

“Mm…” Rhunis appeared to think it over while eating another gem. “It might have happened during the Cataclysm. My memory from back then is pretty fuzzy, you know.”

“Try to remember.”

But he only shrugged in response. “Sorry, but I had bigger things to worry about back then than whether or not some hunk of moonstone got hurled into another universe. I must not have noticed it.”

“Clearly,” Artemis muttered with a scowl, and continued with another question and a glare. “Perhaps this will jog your memory—there was an extremely powerful entity detected within the stone’s core, as well.”

“Really?” His eyes widened a bit, but he didn’t seem quite as surprised as perhaps she expected. “That’s odd. I wonder how it got in there?”

“We were hoping you might have known.”

Rhunis shrugged again. “Well, I don’t.”

Artemis’s glare only sharpened. “The power was so great, it is considered comparable to that of a deity’s. You really have no idea?”

“A deity’s?” Rhunis paused for a moment, and then laughed. “No, but that’s kind of ridiculous, isn’t it? I’m the only moon god in all of Tierrhagan, after all!”

Auster and Artemis exchanged glances. They had both experienced difficulties in dealing with gods, but somehow had never encountered one who could be so useless.

“Thank you for your time,” Artemis said bitterly, turning to open a portal.

“Wait, wait!” Rhunis quickly grabbed her arm to keep her from leaving. “I am so, so sorry that I couldn’t help you at all with your questions, but—I was hoping that you might answer a few of my own.”

She turned back to give the deity a dangerous glare. “Release me and I might consider it.”

“Ah—my apologies.” He did so at once, though he made no other indication of backing off. “First… Might I have the courtesy of knowing your name?”

Once again, Artemis glanced at Auster, who gave her a look of warning in response. No matter how unreasonable or useless this god might be, he was still a god, and so they could not afford to upset or offend him in any way.

“Artemis.”

“Artemis?” Rhunis repeated the name with something like a reverent tone. “My, what a lovely name—even lovelier than I had thought!” He took off his hat with one hand and took one of hers in the other, raising it to his lips. “It is my sincerest pleasure to meet you, Lady Artemis—”

However, she snatched her hand back before he could take it that far. “Is that all, or is there anything else you want to know of me?”

“Oh, no—not anymore, at least.” He appeared undeterred by her hostile tone. “From that name alone, I can already tell we are vastly similar creatures.”

To that, Artemis and Auster both could only respond with a dumbfounded look. “What?”

“Your name, what else?” Rhunis chuckled softly. “Artemis, correct? Surely that means you must have some strong affinity with the moon, just as I do.”

Her eyes narrowed. “I chose this name for far greater reasons than you could imagine, none of which being associated with the moon in any way.”

“Then perhaps that is mere coincidence.” The god looked far too pleased with himself. “After all, is the goddess not only a maiden of the moon, but also a huntress? Surely, then, there is something you seek, just as I search for something that cannot be found within the bounds of Tierrhagan—else you would not have joined Orion, correct?”

Auster made a mental note that, at the very least, their secondary objective had been partly fulfilled with this answer; Artemis, on the other hand, could not bring herself to respond, nor could she believe that he had actually hit the mark. “I—” Her hands clenched into fists. “That is none of your business.”

“Oh, no, please, do not misunderstand.” Rhunis stepped closer, his smile softening a bit. “I don’t intend to make any presumption regarding just what it is that you seek, only that you do—for that is yet another thing we share in common.”

“Common?” she scoffed, taking a wary step back. “I find myself hard-pressed to believe that you and I might share anything in common.”

“Really?” Rhunis said, eyes widening again. “But it’s so obvious! Er, well—some of it, anyway. Some of it is not quite so.”

“Like what?”

“You bear a mark—a scar, perhaps?—that you should not be alive today.” The god spoke smoothly, almost smugly. “Just as I do… Isn’t that right?”

Artemis paled, and without realizing it, her hand went to her throat. “You have no place to speak of such things.”

“I don’t? Then perhaps I should move on to the more obvious things, hm?” Seemingly oblivious to Artemis’s growing rage, Rhunis only continued on. “Your hair reflects the moon’s beautiful, golden glow just as mine does its silver light—your eyes shine, reflecting only the stars.”

Her eyes narrowed again, and the hand at her throat returned to its former fist. “Cheap words from a cheaper romantic. Did you really expect me to be impressed by that?”

“No, perhaps not—though perhaps I am not the right person to be saying them. Besides, haven’t you heard the expression?” With that, he reached out to gently touch the side of her face. “Your eyes reflect the stars because you are in love.”

“Artemis, protocol clearly states—”

“All orders of protocol are overridden by the matter of self-defense. I was merely defending myself.”

“You punched a god in the face and proceeded to knee him in the groin. If this mission is audited, I don’t think the superiors will consider that self-defense.”

Artemis didn’t respond, instead stopping to flip open her di-comm and key in the portal coordinates back to Orion. Auster knew he wouldn’t get anywhere by pressing the issue—but the tension between them wouldn’t dissipate if he remained silent, either.

“What he said… Was that true?”

She snorted. “He was clearly hitting on me. I should hope not.”

“No, not that.” He tried to level her with a firm stare. “You’re… Are you really in love?”

For some time, Artemis didn’t answer, though her movements stilled as the di-comm clicked and whirred in response to the coordinates. When the portal finally flickered open, however, she turned back to face Auster with the same stare.

“We agreed earlier, didn’t we? Now is not the time for this discussion.”

Artemis stepped through the portal without another word, and Auster followed in similar silence.