vatheon | 2. On the edge

Entry tags:

2. On the edge

Who: Gorthan, Open.
Where: The Grand Library.
When: March 3rd, in the late morning.
Style: Prose or anything you like better.
Status: Open.

Since his arrival in Vatheon, Gorthan had mostly kept to himself and to the large apartment he had occupied, only ever going out to visit the coral to replenish himself with energy - Coolflaming anyone was too risky, when he was still trying to assess what sort of place he had ended up in. Vatheon was most strange, and yet, as Gorthan had guessed during his first moments there, strangely reminiscent of the Pit, Evron's prison planet where genetic experiments were conducted. Only, of course, infinitely more comfortable, as the residents were given almost literally everything that they wished for. Was it even worse a prison because of that...?

There was no way to know for sure quite yet. Gorthan's inquisitive mind was forced to recognize that all that was left to do was revel shallowly on the surface of things, which presented an incredibly diverse and colorful population, from more different worlds than Gorthan could ever hope to count. Those worlds... Some part of Gorthan, that vastly repressed one that was always craving for fantasy and escapism, wished to know their stories. All of them.

Today, Gorthan's steps took him towards the majestic building of the Grand Library. While he was at first drawn to it by the stately architecture, what he found inside made him gasp in awe.

Because for all of its power extending through many galaxies, the Evronian Empire could never hope to compile a library comparable to this one. Gorthan's sight was thoroughly filled with books, as far as his eyes could see. Truly it was deserving of the title of 'Grand'...

... Which meant that Gorthan was now torn in two. Were those stories truly worth learning? Or would that literature from other worlds than Evron just pollute his thoughts of war and destruction and cause him to betray his ultimate goal?

While he was already well past the entrance, the Evronian conqueror simply stood paralyzed before the world of books extending before him, unsure whether he should walk back or lose himself to his curiosity and imagination.

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He wasn't sure if what he was currently reading would be of interest to Gorthan, but he had no reason not to disclose the information.

"Information regarding plants and gardens."

Bad romances.

"My world has neither of those." There was a hint of happiness in Serph's voice as he continued. "I'd like to grow some roses."

Gorthan blinked, confused by Serph's words. As Evronians were plant-like beings themselves, the only 'gardening' they ever did was in order to maintain their species...

"What are roses?" he asked.

The answer came easily; Serph had been quite fascinated with them ever since Zelos told him about them.

"They are a type of flower. Their colours have different meanings if you give them to someone."

But what if Gorthan didn't know what a flower was? It could be something that didn't exist in the Evronian's world.

"I could show you a picture of one."

Gorthan's request came after a rather long pause, but was firm.

"... Show me."

After all, he considered, if a decidedly reasonable being such as Serph was devoting his time to the study of this plant, perhaps it wasn't completely worthless.

Well then.

Serph lead the way to a different set of bookshelves. He doesn't need to look at the signs attached to the side of the shelves to know the one he was looking for; he's spent a fair amount of time here.

It didn't take him to find a book on flowers and flip open to a page showing roses.

"This shows the stages of flowering."

Gorthan widened his eyes. As a biology scholar, he was familiar with many species of plants, and he thought absolutely nothing of most of them. This plant, however... its petals appeared to be arranged a complex, rigorously geometric pattern, and yet it seemed so soft, and its colors so vibrant...

"Ah, it's..."

... But no, it was not beautiful. Surely there was something similar on Evron... Gorthan's mind went to the his arid planet of origin. But not even Evronian spores were able to grow there any longer... the only vegetation worthy of note were carnivorous plants who had evolved to resort to other sources than the soil for their nutrition.

Gorthan's eyes narrowed, then, his face contorted with sudden rage. Envy.

"... Surely the real flower must not look as remarkable as this depiction makes it to be."

Serph tilted his head. Did he say something wrong? It seemed like a rather strong reaction to a simple picture.

Nevertheless, he answered Gorthan with his usual calmness. "We will be growing a rose bush near our base." He gave the Evronian a nod. "You're welcome to see it for yourself once it's planted."

He wouldn't mind having Gorthan just 'happening' to pass by so he could show the Evronian their gardening endeavours.

And suddenly, something was more important than this rose plant.

"You have a base here?" Gorthan inquired. "Where is it?"

Serph saw no harm in letting Gorthan know where it was; it was merely a place for Cielo and himself to rest rather than a place chosen primarily for its defensibility.

"Near the forest." Serph gestured to the streak of orange across his chest. "This colour is the mark of my Tribe."

The doors were covered in splashes of the colour, and there was a flag painted with an orange line to signify their presence. But don't drop in unexpectedly, Gorthan; you may get shot at.

"Very well. Do tell me when you have grown that plant - I will visit you then."

Gorthan examined the orange streak, inching a bit closer to Serph to do so.

"Orange. What an odd choice for a color. What meaning does it hold for you?"

Serph nodded; he'd contact Gorthan once the rose bush was properly planted and growing well.

~~ORANGE IS THE COLOUR OF VICTORY~~. It was funny that Gorthan mentioned choice. Serph didn't remember choosing the colour; it had simply seemed natural, something that simply was. Ever since he gained his Atma, the time before seemed like a dream.

But the meaning? That was something he could talk about. The orange was a Mark of his Tribe, and...

"My Tribe are my comrades."

That was description enough, right?

At the nonsensical and vaguely surreal response he had received, Gorthan's eyes narrowed sternly again.

"Pray, what does that have to do with the color itself?"

No. That wasn't enough of a description at all.

Serph closed the book with the picture of flowers and shelved it before he replied.

"It is the symbol of my Tribe. Those who willingly wear the colour have pledged their allegiance to me."

Though... not everyone who were allies had donned the colour. That was fine. Serph still called them friend. And while Serph had only spoken of allegiances, as if he only meant this as a means of gaining strength in war, the truth was that the colour didn't mean as much as it used to; he used to only look after his Tribe, but now he did his best to look after everyone.

"I had gathered that much." Gorthan answered. Talking to Serph was am odd experience at times... he probably had to be as explicit as possible. "But why choose that particular color, instead of a different one? What meanings and values do you attach to it? What makes it so important to you and made you decide to make it the color of your Tribe?"

It would probably be best to be more specific, yes. But it was difficult to answer that question, when his memories of the beginning was so hazy. Perhaps a little background explanation was in order.

"I've only had emotions and the ability to think outside pure strategic terms for a few months. Before I gained them, my actions were of instinct and compulsion. Choices were not a conscious decision. Orange is our colour because it seemed right at the time."

Probably not a very satisfying explanation, but it was the unfortunate truth of their existence. Serph shook his head.

"The colour isn't important; it's what it represents."

Something about what Serph had just said had hit... dangerously close to home.

"I see... Emotions and intellectual autonomy are... new acquisitions for you? How..."

Gorthan blinked, and it was evident that he was suddenly perturbed by something.

"... How did it happen, and under what circumstances?"

He was aware that the question may be personal, as he certainly believed that the true contents of his heart were not to be disclosed to anyone but him. However, he did not care. If Serph truly was someone who had already undergone the same, slow transformation that had been occurring in Gorthan since his invasion of Earth... Gorthan needed to know. He needed to know everything about the process. Its progression. Its advantages. Its drawbacks. Everything.

Serph didn't mind the question at all; he had very little to hide. The story of how he gained his Atma was not one of them. However, he was curious about the sense of urgency in Gorthan's voice, but chose not to pursue that thread of conversation yet.

"A light shot out from an unidentified object into all of us. We gained an Atma, a demon--"

He raised his left hand to the tattoo on his cheek, which pulsed blue before fading to its usual solid black. Lowering his hand, he continued, "--that gave us memories we could not comprehend. Emotions came gradually for most, until some event triggered a full awakening of personality."

He had been one of the first -- if not the first -- to awaken, awakening the moment he gained his Atma. Serph didn't know what it was like, to wrestle with memories and emotions the same way the others had, but he'd been able to observe the changes wrought in them. Awakenings... the changes amongst his Tribe alone had been dramatic.

Gorthan recoiled a little at the tattoo's brief transformation, his eyes narrowing defiantly at the odd drawing. "Serph, what is that mark?" he asked, demanding.

"And so, it was a series of events beyond your control that brought it about... I see. And do you not regret having changed in such a way? Knowing that meaningless emotion can now sway you unpredictably, away from your objectives."

The very fluency of Gorthan's harsh words concerning emotions gave them a somewhat unnatural air - as if they were merely a rehearsed speech, more than something he truly believed in.

Serph shook his head and ignored the question regarding his tattoo in favour of answering the disparaging comment towards emotions. No, this was one point he would not give up on, ever. Emotion wasn't something he regretted. Emotion wasn't a meaningless endeavour. Though he frowned, his voice was still calm when he replied. "Emotion gives me the strength of will to pursue my goals, regardless of the obstacles in my way."

It was will that allowed him to not accept no for an answer when they were denied entrance to the Karma Temple. It was will that allowed him to break though the spell that transfixed them. It was will that allowed him to doggedly continue his pursuit of Nirvana.

Serph's voice was not harsh, but there was an edge to it, backed by steel determination. "I will not return to an empty existence."

Gorthan's eyes were now fixed on Serph, examining him attentively.

"So you, too, find your strength in emotions... Of course. How could I ever believe you could be different?"

He folded his arms over his chest. "And how dare you imply that all those of us who are unable to feel live empty existences? It is precisely because we lack them that we are able to pursue ideals of justice, honor and righteousness. Perhaps the very fact that you gained emotions has made you unable to see the truth."

Certainly, if experiencing emotions resulted in such nonsensical claims, he preferred to continue considering them mere food.

Serph listened closely to Gorthan's words, and it took some time for him to collect himself before he made any response. Serph shook his head. He's certain his ideal of justice, honour and righteousness is different from Gorthan's. Nevertheless...

"That was how it was for me." While they had been lacking emotions, there was some kind of consciousness, and all of them did have some differences, though they never understood why. His voice is calm, and even. "We could not pursue justice, honour or righteousness when we did not know what they were."

"I see. So you lacked awareness of many things, along with emotions. I would advise against confusing the two."

He said that simply, the hostility in his tone mostly gone, his arms unfolding and falling at his sides.

"... Serph. Can I count on finding you here, should I need you in the future?"

Serph knew he lacked awareness -- he still did -- so Gorthan's chiding remark didn't bother him.

He nodded, yes, he would be here in the library. However, he did not live in the library -- unlike certain people he'd often seen around -- so there was always the possibility he would not be there when Gorthan wished for his presence. The problem with being a protagonist with many responsibilities...

"If I am not, you may contact me."

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2. On the edge

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