Chapter Seven: Bale

I.

He stood tall in the golden morning sunshine of Elysium, looking out across a small valley housing a village, a river and a large lake all nestled within a forest of silvery green leaves. Bronzed tan skin met the sunlight and almost shone, silver hair spilling down over his shoulders as powerful hands reached back to pull it into a pony tail and bring it off of his eyes. His frame was strong, powerful, and compact, draped in a shining brilliant chain mail hauberk. There was a bastard sword slung low on his hip and a bright shield on his back bearing a golden sunburst. This was Bale Yuy, husband of Isabell, father of Cierra, and Deva of Elysium.

Bale wandered down from his perch atop a ring of craggy rock surrounding his little hamlet, taking a well-worn path into the valley. He passed woodsmen and farmers, children at play, nodding and smiling to each in turn as he walked. They were all more than amiable, everyone knew Bale, and respected him. As a servant of a goddess of good, they trusted him; as a loving father and husband, they accepted him. He was both one of them and something more at the same time.

The village was abuzz with activity by the time he sauntered into it, leather boots padding along the dirt path, raising little puffs of dust with each footfall. It was a small village, with small buildings, all of them white-washed with golden thatched roofs. Some had small picket fences, some were bigger, denoting a town hall, a church, and a tavern. Still some more had flower gardens, herb gardens, and window boxes. All in all, the cobble-stoned streets and darling little houses all made the place seem homey and sincere, if not a bit hokey. What had changed today, and this was big because nothing had changed in ten years, was there were visitors. Two of them, clad in full armor and bearing weaponry, planewalkers by the looks of them both.

One was clearly an aasimar with golden hair and shining blue eyes, standing tall, his athletic body clad in a smoky grey leather armor, two short swords hanging from his hips, daggers sheathed over his chest, a long sword at his back. He carried himself with noble bearing, though his grin seemed to hint at a much more carefree interior. As Bale looked the boy over, he noted fear hiding behind that bravado.

The other was a woman, silver hair covered by a shining helm with feathered wings on the sides. A flawless frame was clothed in banded mail, a gauntleted hand clasping a glaive tightly. This woman was known to Bale, and known well. It was his daughter, and he hadn't seen her in years. He ran to her openly, smiling broadly, scooping her up into a tight embrace while laughing lightly and happily.

Something clicked in Bale's mind at that moment. He hadn't seen his daughter in years. Now she showed up here in his town, when she'd never before come on her own. He'd always visited her at her mother's home. Here she was, looking apologetic, in his town… with this blonde-haired boy… Bale's eyes narrowed.

II.

Something had not been right. Two attacks, one by Baatezu and one by Tanar'ri. On Elysium, the odds of that are quite bad, if not outright impossible. Something not right at all. Fire in a village, a girl getting kidnapped, this all had to boil down to something, and Isabell Yuy intended to find out exactly what that was. She wandered the streets of Sigil looking for an ear, an eye, an old friend she'd not seen in a long time. The hem of her green cloak brushed the once-familiar filthy cobblestones of the Sigil street, soft brown leather boots tapping against them. Silver-green chain mail jingled as she walked, her swords clattering against it harmlessly, yet noisily. Isabell was every bit the mother of Cierra, they shared a common form, slight, athletic and shapely; though where Cierra's silver hair showed her father's heritage, Isabell had simple blonde hair with bright blue eyes, clear as crystal.

The Grand Bazaar of Sigil was huge, and if you were looking for anything, you could find it here. It was the home of the Free League, the Faction in the planes that just wanted to be left alone, dictating individuality and freedom. It was Isabell's Faction, from back when she went off gallivanting throughout the multiverse with Bale at her side, righting wrong and fighting evil. Those were good days, if not dangerous and frightening days. The Bazaar was alive today in the dusky Sigil afternoon, oily rain smattering about on tents, shacks, stands and the crowd. People were crowding around stands, sharing gossip and news, along with money and goods. Things changed little here.

A hand fell onto her shoulder.

She spun, blade naked.

Laughter, light and merry met her blade, and she sighed, sheathing it once more. The man standing behind her was tall, abnormally so, with long dark blue hair and stark white skin. His eyes were as two pools of midnight blue, and he wore a shimmering suit of banded mail that appeared as though wet. Lips curled into a toothy grin, eyes glinting merrily at Isabell.

"It's been a long time, Isa, what no hug?"

She smiled and enfolded her arms around the Air Genasi. "It's good to see you again, Rhys. Very good."

"Likewise. How is Bale? And little Cierra, how is she?"

"Bale is managing his little village in Elysium like he said he would, and little Cierra is no longer little. She's taken her potential fiancé, Rhedoc Gwydion, to meet Bale."

"Rhedoc Gwydion? The Indep? The one that peeled Zeus of the soul?"

"The very same one," Isabell said, grinning. She was of the opinion her daughter had found quite the catch, as she was also of the Free League, an Indep. "Now, about what I was asking?"

"Right. Follow me, we're not talking here. I know a place, the Open Shell, not far from here."

III.

"You want to what?"

The Deva's voice was loud. A little louder than Rhedoc liked, and he cringed a bit more than he should have in light of what was happening. He felt cold all over his body, and white-hot in the cheeks; he was very aware that he was sweating profusely, and he knew his hands were trembling of their own volition. That did not make the aasimar comfortable one bit. He moved back in his chair a bit before answering.

"I intend to marry your daughter."

Those eyes narrowed. Which in Rhedoc's mind was a statistical impossibility, as something could not possibly have gotten narrower than they already were, without actually touching and being closed. They stared into his deeply, burning a hole into him, making him even more uncomfortable. Cierra only stood in the corner of the small hut, smirking. The place was claustrophobically small, and exactly square, with a small round table in the center, housing Rhedoc and Bale at opposite ends. It was dark, and smelled faintly musty, as though it hadn't been used often. The only light that entered was through the tiny windows, and judging by the heavy breathing and soft whispers he heard, Rhedoc would wager a thousand of whatever anyone cared to bet that there were people outside, crowding around those tiny holes, listening to the Deva rip into him for daring to presume he may have been good enough for Cierra.

Rhedoc wanted very badly to look back over his shoulder, to get a reassuring glance from Cierra, letting him know that they'd remain together, regardless of her father. However, he could barely move in the intense glare coming off of the Deva before him. It was almost too much to bear, and with the absolute silence that had filled the room for almost three minutes now, it was not getting any easier on the aasimar. Bale inhaled slowly, eyes closing, as if trying to plan his next phrase perfectly, so as not to mince words.

IV.

"So this goes deeper than anyone's even guessed, is what you're saying."

Isabell sat in a small room, speaking to her genasi friend. He'd just finished telling her a fantastic tale. It started with two bariaur, two tieflings, a fire genasi, and, of all things, a tanar'ri. They went to the Abyss, and ran across a bebilith stealing the divine spark of a deva, and taking it into itself. The small group of misfits promised the deva that they would bring it back to Elysium, so that it could heal, though they knew not what they were doing. The bebilith followed, and that's where the extraordinary bit starts. Apparently, the spark of the deva started influencing the bebilith to do good deeds. It became a better creature through its theft, and the group had to make a decision: once they regained the spark, would they allow the bebilith to keep it, or would they return it to the deva?

In the end, they split the divine fire between the two creatures, again, not knowing what they were doing in the process. With the fire of the divinely good within it, and the definition of abject evil as well, the bebilith warred with itself inside its own body, creating a small rift in the way Elysium itself worked. Where this bebilith went, anything could follow, and even move. That was how tanar'ri were invading Elysium, capturing people; that was why baatezu were able to sntach up citizens on slave raids. There was a tiny loophole in the plane's laws, and that loophole would have to be closed, as soon as possible.

"How do we stop it, then?" she asked.

V.

Bale's laughter thundered across the room, causing Rhedoc to shudder once more. The Deva'd been laughing for about five minutes now, uncontrollably. Rhedoc did not find anything nearly so funny as this silver-haired menace seemed to. The sooner this ended, the better, he hated feeling like a trapped rat in a cage.

"Of course, boy, of course. If my daughter would be happy with you, then she can be with you, I'd never stand in the way of that. What would possess you to even ask that of me?" Bale said in his deep and impressive voice. Rhedoc simply shot a glare at Cierra, who was by now, doubled over in the corner barely containing her own laughter.

"Oh very funny! Very sodding funny!" Rhedoc stood, the chair he had been sitting in toppled behind him, falling to the floor with a clatter, "is the entire plane so piking hilarious? First your mother, now your father, is there anyone in your life that doesn't enjoy treating me like a complete berk?"

Cierra stood slowly, hurt playing across her large blue eyes as she approached, reaching a delicate hand to Rhedoc's cheek. His anger faded a bit at the gentle touch of her feather-light fingertips. Then she slapped him. "Were you so caught up in the pomp and circumstance that you missed the answer? Get up, berk, I didn't hit you that hard."

He stood, slowly, a bit confused, but otherwise fine. Every once in a while, the aasimar needed a wakeup call, and Cierra was more than able to provide such for him. She loved him very much, but she loved him enough to not take his whining and whimpering when she knew he was better than that. He knew this as well, and bore her no ill will. Rhedoc was a berk, he knew he was a berk, and he was alright with that.

Rhedoc stood, offering Cierra a tight hug before looking back to Bale. "Thank you, sir. For all you've done and all you might do in the future."

"No, Rhedoc, thank you, for what you will do for us here in Elysium. Now take your fiancée and go to Sigil. Meet with Isabell in the Open Shell Inn, she's got things to tell you."

Rhedoc simply nodded, looking to Cierra. His hand dipped into his belt pouch and produced the same small ring he'd bought in Sigil all those weeks or months ago, however long it had been. It didn't matter, he was thinking more clearly now than he had been for a long time as his hand moved out to hold the ring to Cierra. Clear blue eyes met his own, and she nodded quietly, not speaking as her own small slender fingers touched the ring and slipped it on. They stood there a long moment, content in the presence of each other before moving on out of the hut to find a portal to Sigil. Even the engaged still had things to do before a wedding.