Mission

<> Demiurge says "Aron and Azalea will have been spending time on regular Dream-Servitor duties. And _not_ going into Beleth's Marches."

The Marches are - as ever - quiet, as Aron and Azalea return from their patrol shift, skimming back across the sands towards Blandine's Tower, and seeing the scattering of angels at the foot of it.

Aron stretches his wings, working the kinks out. He fingers a half-carved piece of bone which he is preparing for another dream. "Well, shall we check in?"

Azalea inclines her head.

Aron pockets the scrimshaw and angles towards the tower.

The two Cherubim outside the Tower are sitting comfortably, watching keenly for any signs of disturbance or action. As Azalea and Aron come angling in, a small reliever - all fluff and nacre-eyes - comes fluttering towards them.

Aron slows, and watches the reliever. He folds his wings back.

The reliever hangs in the air. "Taroniel and Azalea?" it sings, voice like a single violin-string.

Azalea says "Yes."

The reliever bobs in the air. "The Archangel wished to see you when you returned from patrol." It looks curious.

Aron, also, looks curious. "We attend."

Aron turns to Azalea.

The reliever nods, and flutters back towards the tower.

Azalea enters the tower.

Aron follows.

The tower, within, is pale and cool, with Hearts burning in their niches. Aron and Azalea pass the odd other angel as they ascend the stairs towards the balcony.

On the balcony, Blandine is waiting, facing the door as they emerge. She is a winged snow leopard tonight, her fur like black stars on a pale sky, her eyes burning.

<> Daimon says "As Aron says, "Where is my distinction, hmm?" :> :> :>"

<> Aron smirks.

Aron bends his knee, respectfully. "Bright Lady."

Azalea follows suit, wordless.

Blandine says, "Rise." Something twinkles under one of her paws, bright gold.

Blandine says, "And have you enjoyed the quiet of the past week, my children?"

<> Demiurge | Both say, "ACTION! WE WANT ACTION!"

Azalea returns to her feet, hands behind her back.

Aron stands. After a moment, he nods. "Yes, Lady, though it is difficult to forget the recent urgency."

Blandine says, "Indeed," her voice a purr. "It is now that I give you leave to pursue it."

Azalea says "Have you news?"

Aron listens.

Blandine says, "Firstly, I believe that Bellmans have ceased their operations in the brainwashing field, though they remain a Tether. This can be dealt with later."

Blandine says, "Secondly, my children, I have transferred the attunement which you had Aucune obtain upon Usha into this compass."

Blandine nudges the gold object forward. It goes spinning across the marble floor towards Aron and Azalea, sparkling in the light, a thin chain trailing behind it.

Azalea watches the object, not without some wariness.

Aron bends and picks up the compass. His expression is, for those who know him, eager.

The object is a circular compass, on a chain: the setting is gold, and the pointer inside glistens like mercury, pointing out over the Marches.

Aron says "We are to recover her, Lady?"

Blandine tilts her head, starlight glinting on her cat-eyes. "Explore where it leads you, whether on Earth or here on the Marches. Be wary. If you encounter greater force or an encampment, investigate with care, and flee if you must."

Blandine says, "Take assistance, if you have colleagues who would be of value."

Aron looks sidelong at Azalea. "I believe we can drum some up."

Azalea nods.

Blandine says, "It is quite likely that you may encounter some form of base camp. In such a case, spy if you can, but be sure to return with what information you gain."

Azalea looks at Aron, meaningfully.

Aron nods. "We will make no disturbance."

Aron says "The events of last week were ... extraordinary."

Blandine nods.

Blandine says, "In consequence to that, I should mention that Prince Kobal has been released in Hell, and the charges against him dismissed."

Aron raises an eyebrow. "So that drama is finished?"

Blandine says, "His acts of revenge are likely to be next."

Blandine says, "I also have reason to believe that my sister of nightmares may have taken some personal ... embarassment. She will not forget either of you."

Aron nods. He says nothing.

Azalea says "Does she - know? Who I was?"

Blandine says, "I think it is possible, my daughter."

Blandine says, "I must warn you that this may be very dangerous."

Aron looks briefly wry.

Azalea looks down.

Blandine waits, patient as any cat.

Azalea says "Is there aught else we should know?"

Aron listens.

Blandine is still again, for a minute.

Blandine says, "What we fight is something that we may not be able to simply eradicate."

Aron says "What do we fight, Lady?"

Blandine says, voice falling to a deep growl, "We strike at it, and yet it springs up again; we destroy, but it returns."

Blandine says, "We fight the powers of Hell, my son, to protect the mortals, human and animal both, and we fight to protect our own."

Blandine says, "And even if our gains may seem small and temporary, even if they may return, we do *not* cease from fighting."

Aron seems fully in agreement. He nods.

Blandine says, "I cannot be certain what you will find, my children, and all that I am certain of is that I am sending you into danger again."

Blandine says, "If you find our worst nightmares awaiting you, be sure that you have found what you are seeking."

Aron says "It will be frustrating to flee from that."

Blandine's wings unfurl, and her shape shifts in a blur of starlight till she is a woman, wrapped in green and grey.

Blandine says, "Invoke me if you must. Flee if you must. Fight if you must. Go with my blessing."

Aron nods.

Aron bows, precisely. "It has been a true honor to serve, Lady."

Blandine says, dryly, "I trust that this will not be the end of it."

Aron returns, "One ever hopes." He smiles.

<> Aron says "Are you kidding? I'm a dead man."

Azalea says "Hard as he might try."

Aron murmurs, "That was unavoidable."

<> Daimon gives Aron a muffin.

Blandine smiles, faintly.

Blandine says, "Go safely and return safely."

<> arcangel | Blandine . o O (Return Safely. That's an order.)

Aron nods, his posture implying a salute. He steps back, quietly, and waits for Azalea.

Azalea bows, and departs.

Aron wings down with Azalea. "We'd best gather the others."

---

Fiat Justitia