thebastion | Day 196 // Open

Entry tags:

Day 196 // Open

Who: Paarthurnax and folks
Open: Open
When: 196, in the evening
Where: By the river
What: Amongst the things from a land of mountains and frost: a pair of gloves meant for more than thieves. A creation of metal and steam and other things from a race that didn't need the Calamity to do themselves in. Glowing plants that chime.
Format: any
Warnings: Grampadragon is harmless (usually). No guarantees for the rest of the losers in the Bastion.

In the absence of the group that head to Sky Haven Temple, the Bastion has brought something to fruition for Paarthurnax. In the evening as the dragon returns, he circles about before landing by the riverside to inspect his new prizes.

The most notable is an enormous construct which shines in the light of the dimming sun. It almost seems to breathe in and out, but that's just the puff of steam which exit from it- a sign it's active if nothing else although it doesn't seem to move. Draped across one of its arms are a set of gloves, a dark contrast against the brilliant metal.

The last of his acquisitions would be the plants which now are growing along the river's edge and amongst the shore of the lake. It's harder to tell in the daytime, but as it grows darker, one can see the pale green glow they give off. It's one constant, however, is the faint chiming noise that becomes readily apparent to any who are near to it.

Paarthurnax seems pleased with it all, inspecting the Centurion carefully and brushing his nose against the plants.

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Zuko was just making a late visit to the turtle ducks. The glowing, chiming plants which the reptile-birds have discovered might have been cause enough for curiosity, but that thing across the river is about as conspicuous as they come. It's also a bit alarming, although whatever it is, Paarthurnax seems to have it under control.

Still, she finds herself making an absent and entirely unnecessary 'stay here' motion to the turtle ducks and making her way across the river. Closer up, it's most definitely not a statue; those are gears. And it seems to be... steam-powered?

"What is that thing?" It's like some sort of machine soldier. In the back of her mind, she wonders if there's some world where this qualifies as a person. It doesn't, right?

That seems to be the question many are asking today, but Paarthurnax does not mind. Even back in Skyrim, such a question would not be unfounded. Only those who ventured into the Dwemer ruins or perhaps natives to Markarth would have grown used to these creations. They were an oddity and a marvel still for them there. Here, it appears that many feel the same way.

"It is a Centurion," he explains, patient tone as always. "In my world, elves known as Dwemer could craft them and other marvels. They were more advanced than anyone else in the history of that place, but their arrogance lead to their disappearance. Only their handiwork remained. Ah, but it is fine work indeed to last for so many years."

Zuko doesn't know what an elf is, but she surmises that amounts to 'man-made.' She moves closer, peering cautiously up at it.

"Can you make it fight for you?" Like many things around here, she isn't certain how that would work, but she can't imagine what other purpose it has with those weapons apparently grafted to its arms.

The Centurion stares emotionlessly back, metal face long since molded into the expression it would wear for as long as it existed. There's no way for it to communicate- it wasn't built for that. It's doubtful it even can. But it doesn't attack her, so that's realy all that's needed.

"Possibly," Paarthurnax replies. "They were made to protect the strongholds of the Dwemer, but I would not doubt the Bastion would have it listen to us. This is for Colin- he will be able to pry more answers from it. I have trust in his skills."

Not being attacked is always a plus.

Zuko frowns at the mention of Colin, but nods grudgingly. "Maybe. They do seem to have more advanced technology wherever he comes from. My people had steam power, but- none of our engines were this small." Not that the Centurion is small, but definitely smaller than the ships and tanks she's familiar with.

People frowning at the mention of Colin's name is nothing new, so Paarthurnax brings no attention to it. He simply listens patiently to the description of Zuko's homeland and nods.

"The Dwemer could make smaller still. This is simply the largest of their metal creatures. They could make other warriors which rolled about in spheres, or small metal spiders which I have heard repaired their cities and creations." Paarthurnax nods slightly. "Their knowledge knew bounds, but it was still very vast in comparison to many others."

Zuko is still inspecting the Centurion. It's easier for her to wrap her mind around than some of the machines here, because she can at least fathom making an engine smaller, but she can't figure out how anyone would make it do things without constant instruction. Probably other people understand it without any thought.

"That's a lot of knowledge that's been lost." And she doesn't just mean these Dwemer Paarthurnax is talking about.

"Yes." He understands the meaning beneath that well enough. Paarthurnax's sigh is low and heavy. "That is why I teach my language to those who are here. I am the only one of my kind who knows it, here. The words of my kind are important. If there is one thing I may choose to leave behind, I wish it to be that."

"Ryu suggested writing things down about our worlds, but I don't know that anyone else here could read it if I did." She considers that a moment. "I guess learning someone else's language wouldn't be a bad idea."

"It is always something you can try." There's a small chuffing noise that might be a laugh. "Perhaps it will give those in the future something to puzzle over."

The idea of another student has him pause, however, and he gives a nod. "It would be my honor. I have been teaching the others already. Perhaps it will interest you."

"A cryptic piece of writing isn't exactly the legacy I'd hope to leave behind," Zuko says wryly.

At his wording, she remembers her manners and gives a quick bow, fist to palm. "No, I would be honored, to learn from a dragon. I'll try to make a good student."

In turn, Paarthurnax bows his own head. "That you are willing to learn shows that you are already good." He straightens himself somewhat, a taller position than his usual method of traversing while earthbound. "You may come to lessons whenever you wish, or seek to speak with me privately. I only insist you learn one phrase first here- drem yol lok." It's said carefully and clearly. "Peace fire skies. It is the greeting one gives to another."

"I wouldn't be too sure about that. Even Uncle lost patience with me sometimes." Although she likes to think she's matured since those days, especially having some experience now as a teacher herself.

"Drem.. yol lok," she repeats. The pronunciation is a little awkward for her, but she manages. And she certainly approves of her first words to be learning. "So 'yol' is 'fire' then."

So far, it has been awkward for most of his students. Paarthurnax has come to expect it. When she correctly deduces the meaning, he gives a nod. "Correct. At least, to the tongues outside that of mine. But fire is not merely fire. It is more than that." His head tilts to the side curiously. "Do you know?"

Zuko nods. As a firebender, it's something that means a lot to her. It could never just be a word.

"Where I come from, dragons were the original firebenders. I had the great honor to learn from the last living masters. Fire isn't just fire. It's an energy you carry inside of you. It can be dangerous without the proper control, but with it, it isn't just destruction. It's life, too."

It is somehow not surprising to hear that even in other worlds, others similar to his kind have such a connection with fire. Ice, time, life- dovah controlled many things. Yet it always seems as if fire has been one of those which sang to them the most- the one word whose whisper was most persistent. It seems to be the same to others.

"Very good. Your masters have taught you well and true. Fire is change given form. It is power. Yet it is useless without action and choice. Motionless. Inert. When one gathers that power within their breath-" A nod to Zuko. "-or in their actions, it is something that must always be thought of. Fos fen hi ag? Fos fen hi lif? That is to say- what will you burn and what will you spare? My kin did not often think of such things. They thought all was to burn. I would have taught them otherwise, if they had listened."

She frowns thoughtfully. That kind of arrogance and disregard for balance is not something she would have expected from dragons. But the ones in her world were animals--intelligent ones, but still animals--and more in tune with the natural world. Paarthurnax's kind were different; they were people, and people are more fallible.

"My people became the same way... They thought they had all the power in the world, and that we were meant to use it to control the world. My father even wanted to destroy, and remake it.

"I had hoped to redeem my nation, before this."

Now this is a tale Paarthurnax has heard before. "Then we share similarities," he says gently, a huff of warm air being puffed out to the young girl. "My brother wanted similar... Although it would have been better for him to stay to his original purpose in life as world eater.

"Yet with him gone and others of my kind still thriving, I had been wanting to teach them better ways myself. Bring them at peace with the world even if the world would never be entirely at peace with them."

"Maybe it could have been, eventually. After all, I don't think there's a single person here who has a problem with you." They may not have spoken much before now, but Zuko has still gathered that Paarthurnax is one of the most respected members of the Bastion.

"I guess... they don't have many problems with me either." That one's a little harder for her to admit, but even the arguments she's had with people? They don't really compare to being thought of as an enemy or a traitor.

Paarthurnax gives a bow of his head, grateful. "I am thankful for that. I have not had a chance to speak to so many in quite some time. It is a chance I relish." That is not to say the Greybeards were not good company. They were good students and ultimately good people. However, it was still a self imposed exile. To see the Dragonborn back in Skyrim was the most that had happened to him in some time.

"This place, for all the sadness and loss it carries, is indeed one of new beginnings- of clean slates. There is no need for anyone to have issue with you, unless you bring it."

"I don't know about a clean slate," Zuko says with a shake of her head. "Maybe no one else knows who I've been, but I do. It's just... nice, if people don't have that in their minds when I meet them."

It isn't really the first time that no one's known her, but in Ba Sing Se and on Ember Island, she'd been too wrapped up in her own issues to care.

"That is true. Sometimes, no others remember our actions better than we ourselves do. I carry my own past with my always, and always shall." A low sigh. "All the more reason to be thankful."

"So you used to believe the same as your people?" Zuko guesses. It would make sense. "Can I ask what changed your mind?"

"I certainly cannot stop you from asking." It's not a refusal, however, and Paarthurnax begins to settle more against the ground of the Bastion. "However, it is somewhat a long tale. I would not wish to keep you, should you have other things you must attend to."

She shakes her head; this late in the day, there isn't much she needs to be doing with herself. Her evenings can be a little lonely, truth be told. "No. I've got the time to listen, if you don't mind telling it."

She wants to be sure, although she doesn't think he would offer if he minded.

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