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'Solaire of Astora' was an… Interesting person, but not a mean one. With introductions more or less done, he'd happily waved for her to follow him, muttering under his breath about 'remembering his manners'. He lead her into the 'temple' and through a ruined room, down some stairs and under ground. Where she expected it to be cold, or musty. Instead, it smelled of wood and smoke and the ash that cracked under every step she took down the rough-hewn, uneven stairs. And it was almost too warm. Not that Emily was going to complain, of course - she knew Hell was hot, and was grateful at least not to be there.

Maybe twenty feet underground now, he lead her to a wide, dome-like room with a low, entrenched round fire-pit. A rough, burnt-black iron spit hung over a fire that crackled warmly and, humming, Solaire hung a pot to boil. The wall opposite the door had a bed pressed against it, with a bookshelf installed in a space carved out for it that was twice as wide as she could reach and taller than her, stuffed to the proverbial gills with books, scrolls and ink and quills. Against another wall were lower shelves, set in under the curves rather than in carved out spaces, which were packed with pots, pans and jars of plants she didn't recognize that Solaire went to, working while she looked at the other side of the room.

Where a grindstone, anvil and a strange forge that lacked a chimney rested in a half-circle along the wall, with racks of hammers, clamps and more hanging to either side of them.

"May I see your hand, my lady?" Emily blinked and looked up at the masked man and, after a second, offered her hand. He took it gently, pressing a little flower into her palm. After a few seconds, he asked, "Does it sting at all?"

"Um…" She blinked, eyeing the blue flower worriedly, "N-No? Should it?"

"Ideally, no." He nodded, turning and dropping the flower - and a fistful like it - into the pot leaking steam over the fire. Quietly, he explained, "Some are allergic to the flowers. Or… Well, were. If you are, then it stings the skin."

"Ah." She blinked and smiled, "Well… I am an angel. We can't be allergic to, well, anything."

"Truly?" He cocked his head and she smiled and nodded. He hummed and sat on the other side of the circle, muttering, "Remarkable… And all angels are thus?"

"We were crafted to be… Well, flawless, in every way." She smiled sheepishly, uncomfortable with using the descriptor on herself like that. Spreading her wings out, she gestured at them, "We fly as perfection in freedom, and to allow us to see and reach all. We are strong to pursue all of Heaven's Will. And we are immune to all… Well, most harm."

"Most?"

"...heavenly steel can kill angels and demons alike." She answered quietly, her wings curling around her protectively. "It is, so far as I know, all which can."

"This upsets you."

"It…" She frowned, "It was not something which was developed to do good."

"I see." Solaire sighed, standing when the kettle whistled finally. He poured each of them a drink in small clay-looking cups and, in spite of the ambient warmth, Emily appreciated the heat of the drink in her hands and cradled it close to her chest. Turning away from her, he tipped his helmet up, took a sip, and sighed contentedly, "Bluemoon Tea… Not a luxury beyond this land, to be sure, but certainly one here."

"You… Farm?"

"I gather." He shrugged, gesturing around them with his cup. "The ashen fields grow a great many things. Fruits and roots and flowers. I need not eat nor drink, of course, but… It is enjoyable enough, to study them and learn ways to prepare them. And a capable distraction."

"Distraction…?"

"Forgive me." He chuckled, "I meant 'a way to pass the time'."

"I suppose you would have a lot of that…" She murmured, flicking him an anxious look before adding. "Since you look like you're alone."

"Hmhm…" Solaire sighed, nodding slowly, "Such is fate and duty. I stand vigil over the land and, in turn, sustain all."

"What do you mean?"

"A great many things. Complex things. Hard to believe things, I am certain… But ah, forgive me!" He slapped his knee suddenly, straightened and brightened all in one moment. Standing, he asked her, "Are you hungry? I did not mean to sour our mood, and a meal ought brighten it once more! I have jellies and-"

"I need to reach Hell." Emily cut him off, taking a steadying breath when the realities of those words reach her. Rising, she took a long drink of her tea and turned to him, the bitter taste burning on her tongue, "Whatever… Whatever complicated things you are afraid to tell me, my friends need me. Heaven is coming for them, a-and I don't even know when. But I have to get there, to at least try and help them."

"Heaven is 'coming for them'?"

"They mean to kill them all…" She answered quietly, "Because Charlie and her friends are right, and… And my sister won't accept that she was wrong."

"How many would die…?" He asked, back to her while he fished through his pots and jars for something to eat.

"Thousands."

"Warriors all?" He asked next, turning to bring over a large pot and two jars.

"N-No." She furrowed her brows and shook her head, confused by the… Bright way he asked the question, "Men, woman, those, uh, those between. Children and the old alike. I… They call it 'extermination'. And Hell repelled them last time, at great cost to the Host. I doubt the Host will stop so long as anyone who might remember that survives."

"I see." He hummed, pouring leaves and roots into the bowl and grinding them with a meaty stone knob. "And are you of Heaven or Hell?"

"I…" She blinked, uncomfortable, and asked quietly, "Why does that matter?"

"Humor me."

"But I-"

"Please, my friend." He turned to her and she felt heat in that look, red light glinting out of the slit in his visor. "Humor me."

"...Both? Neither? I-I don't know…" She sighed, easing back into her seat and hugging her wings around her. It was stuffy and uncomfortable, but… It made her feel better, somehow, and made it easier to talk. "I don't… I don't want to hurt anyone, o-or for anyone to get hurt, but… But there isn't a way out of this that- That I can see where there isn't someone getting hurt!"

"No great change comes bloodless, 'ere." Solaire murmured lowly, sounding… Distant. "All we can do is choose the right of it, 'ere."

"Poetry…?" Her brow furrowed, "I don't recognize the style."

"You would not." He chuckled, "Tis ancient."

"That… Shouldn't be possible…" She murmured, shaking her head. "Nevermind, I… A lot of stuff has been impossible, lately."

"A wise outlook." He nodded, "And an adaptable one."

"Right." She murmured, thinking about his poem and frowning, "So it's not worth trying not to fight…?"

"It depends on how deeply the conflict runs." Solaire answered quietly, "I cannot know, set apart as I am. But, from what little I know of you, you are not the type to go to conflict if there were another way… This tells me there, in fact, is not."

"Yeah…"

"Then all you can ask yourself…" Solaire cocked his head, watching her from behind his metal helmet. "Is what is right. From there, you make your stand."

"And fight…"

"No great change comes bloodless, 'ere." He repeated, nodding gravely and clasping his hands in front of himself, bowing his head gently almost like he was in prayer. After a moment, he said, "Every great order comes to an end, or a change, Emily the Joy. I lived… Or, well, persisted through one such great ending, preceded by many smaller ones. I saw my land, Astora, wither and die, ravaged by plague, fanaticism, fear, and suffering. It was what spurred my quest. Now, you face the same…"

"So," he leaned back, "what shall you do about it?"

"...I think…" She sighed, gnawed at her lip and forced herself to open her wings and meet his eyes. "I think I was on the precipice of this fight. And… And that it's inevitable, even if I don't want to go to war. Least of all with my sister… But I didn't cast myself out of Heaven, o-or order the genocides that lead me onto my path. That was my sister, and… My sister chose my side, in casting me out and standing beside those orders, and made hers impossible for me."

"So you will do what?" He pressed, "I need to hear the words."

"I will fight." She said, hands curling into fists. "Because… Because it's the right thing to do."

"Wonderful!" He clapped, startling her and hopping up, bouncing away from his seat like a child might, excited to get out for the day. He started rummaging through his jars and pans, humming energetically before he froze and turned to her. "You… Said you are going to war with your own sister?"

"My family is in Heaven…" Emily nodded, "And my sister leads it."

"Ah…" His shoulders sagged a bit as he turned away, continuing to look through his jars. "I am sorry to hear that. But, regardless, know that I stand beside you in this."

"You do…?"

"I fought for many things, over my many years." He laughed, sounding… Tired, somehow, "In a way, I fought for this world, too. I'll be glad to fight beside friends once more."

She blinked, trying for a moment to process what he'd said - and what it meant - before she gave up and murmured, "But… This isn't your fight, Solaire."

"It is now, Emiliana the Joy." He grunted, drawing a long, sheathed sword from behind the pots and spinning it in his palm with a flourish. He gestured at a small, round table at the end of the shelving unit, itself covered in plates and pans and jars and propped up on a rock, and grunted, "Now do be a gem and help me clear this off, would you? I may need my shield if we are liable to go to war, after all. Shields are oh so useful for wars…"

"I…" She blinked, then sighed and fluttered over to help him. "Very well. And… Thank you."

"Thank me after we have won." He said lowly, "And after you know the price of the fight I go to with you…"

That sounded dark, somehow, but…

She could only go forward one step at a time.

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Outside the temple, the world was… Eerily the same, in spite of the hours and hours that had passed. The world was quiet and grey, and smelled like ash and smoke, and hadn't changed at all even after all their time inside. Heaven wasn't a place that changed, either, aside from the occasional bit of rain in the vast sections of it that allowed it to cater to those that liked rain and storms. But here it felt… Different, somehow. Uncontrollable, almost, in a way that she couldn't explain. Like something more was at play than even in Heaven, where Heaven's power was very real and felt in every facet of every angel's life - be it their first or second.

"The Kiln is a force of creation." Her traveling companion answered as she followed him through the ashen forest, headed… Well, somewhere important, she assumed. Quietly, as if afraid to break the silence of the forest, he went on, "This place was created when all else was, I believe. And remains as it was when I found it."

"You weren't here…?"

"No, no." He chuckled, "I was quite dead. I only awoke later."

"Dead…?"

"My kind were known as Undead, my friend." Solaire explained, turning to give her a look over his shoulder. When she didn't do… Whatever he expected her to do, whatever that might have been, he turned back and continued on, "Truly killing us takes quite a bit indeed! I… Fell, however. Some time before the End."

"The End…?"

"Your beginning." He chuckled, "Or so I wager…"

"But… Heaven is all." Emily argued quietly, fluttering her wings to get the ash off of them as they walked. "Or, um, first. Heaven came, then it created the Earth and the stars. Hell came somewhere in there, and… And that was all there was."

"Yet," Solaire sighed brightly, waving his free hand almost whimsically and gesturing at himself, "here I am."

She… Didn't have much of a response to that. At least, not one that didn't include suggesting her new traveling companion was just out and out lying to her. Or insane. But setting those aside, what he said made her think. About the Archive, and the impossibility of finding something that she couldn't understand, and the equal impossibility of something hijacking a Heavenly Rift meant to send her to Pride to instead send her to the Temple and its woodlands.

Something had done that, and she didn't get the sense it had been Solaire himself - much less when she considered how he would have affected the Archive.

"Emily…"

"Hm?" She blinked as he came to a stop and turned, looking down the steep hill they'd come to a stop on top of. "Oh…"

At the bottom of the hill was what remained of a low wall made of rough-hewn stone that had fallen to time worn pieces in places but stood imposingly nonetheless. It was simple, with low crenelations along it and only two towers standing over the gate. One of which had collapsed in a heap of rubble, scattered tile and ash. The gate had fallen in when the tower did, heavy iron resting deep in the ash and soot below the overlook. A pair of black statues stook flanking it, with winged helmets, tall shields, and long halberds resting against their shoulders. More stood along the intact sections of the wall, barely hidden by the tallest of the crenulations.

The wall curved away to either side, until it hit inky black water that stretched out in front of them, flat and unmoving for as far as she could see. The wall enclosed nothing but a stone bridge as wide as the wall itself reached, missing sections she could see in the water below but otherwise unremarkable. Aside from the fact that it ended only half a mile or so out, with two gargantuan towers that ran up from the dark water itself on either corner. Thick, strange fog stretched between them, so heavy she couldn't see through it even with her divine eyes.

"What is this place…?"

"I haven't the faintest idea." The armored man chuckled, "All I know is that I awoke just inside the fog gate… And the Black Knights were very encouraging about me leaving the normal gate and sodding off."

"The Black Knights?"

"Do you not see the sentries…?"

"The… Statues?" She asked, brows furrowing as she turned to look at the unmoving things. "Yes, but… You can't mean those, right?"

"Ah, I see their discipline is enough to impress even your heavenly gaze, Emily my friend. But observe." Solaire chuckled, stepping forward and drawing his sword in a long, slow, purposeful way. In response, the statues on the wall slid around their cover, great bows held in front of them and gazes locked on the knight in front of her. "They are not statues. They are… Well, what remains."

"Of…?"

"Of once-honorable warriors, reduced in numbers and faculties by eons of diligent duty and… More." He answered gravely, "I fought them aplenty, once upon a time. In the golden city and before it. There is little left of them, and it is always a shame to strike one down as it is likely they will not rise again, but they are fearsome opponents."

"Opponents…?" She blinked, hands curling and uncurling as anxiety crept up her spine. "W-Wait, do we have to- To fight?"

"We go to war, Emiliana the Joy." Solaire turned to her, voice far too airy for what he was saying. "This will be but the first of many fights on our adventure. Fret not. I am an old hand at it, and happy to indulge in some jolly cooperation after so long. You will live."

"But… I've never…"

"I know you have not." He nodded, chuckling under his breath. "Your innocence is writ across your features and in your words, clear as a song. This is no insult, but…"

"I need to change." She frowned. She hated the idea of hurting anyone, but… She was sure Charlie had, too. And she'd fought Adam's attack. And now, Emily had to make that same choice. Quietly, hugging herself, she murmured, "Does anything stay clean in this world, Solaire…?"

"Only our ideals." He answered gravely, "Only our ideals…"

"I see." She sighed, shaking herself off and slapping herself on the face to clear her thoughts the way she'd seen some angels do. It… Didn't really work, but the sting was at least enough to take her thoughts away from hating what they needed to do, and on to doing it. "What is our plan, then? I… Have no weapon."

"Well…" He cocked his head, "How much can you lift and fly, and still move quickly?"

"Why….?"

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Rook435 :

Hopefully some of Solaire's dialogue clarified a BIT of the nature of where, exactly, she is. Not a lot, of course, but a bit. XD