agogelogs | [OPEN] Like the stars chase the sun, over the glowing hill, I will conquer

"It isn't the kind of thing you do once and you're done either, is it?" he asks the question mildly. That kind of power feels like it is a thing that must be renewed every day, and that is the kind of strain he has seen others take on. What a weight it is.

He is silent when the arrow fires, and when it does sink, an eyebrow goes up. There is no offering advice unless he's asked. That would be rude.

"I believe that would still be considered some kind of magic in my world. But what defines sorcery for your time and place?" Chiron's used to magic and magecraft, and he has little issue with either. "Words are said to bind. Sometimes it's voluntary, sometimes it is. Sometimes that matter is...unclear. I can only speak to my experiences on the topic."

"To lead?" There's a faint hint of a smile. "I suppose not, seeing as I am to reclaim my birthright and rule as queen."

His silence stretches and is met with an arch of her brows. Silent prodding for him to offer his advice.

"Would it?" She'd always imagined that a real dragon is immune to fire. Viserys was not one. But still, that her own inherent... qualities would be considered magic? "Blood magic, illusions... certainly not anything I've accomplished."

She watches him, biting back her question about his experiences. It would be rude to ask, if he's not to supply those things himself.

"So words in your world are binding? Not merely a vow, but magic of some sort backs these claims?"

"To win hearts and minds," he clarifies. It was an ambigious statement, but the answer it got him is perfectly true as well. "They can be stormy things, and always need to be reclaimed. Although it sounds as if your birthright might pose the same problem.

He sees the eyebrows. Those are in a perfect arched form, as it were, and he turns his attention back to the targets. "Do you want input? I don't wish to presume."

"Mm. Walking through flames and bonding with creatures thought to be only things of legend would both qualify. There are various manifestations, after all.

But words. He smiles faintly at that, as it is entirely true of Chiron's own case. "Think of it as an energy that can be directed in various directions. Some people will rely on words to direct that energy, others blood, others physical actions. It's about the person and their ability to force their will upon the energy."

"Ah. Earning their favor is..." She drags the pads of her fingers along Irriella's back, and the spider seems to shiver under the motion, her mandibles clicking appreciatively. "They call me a number of things, Breaker of Chains, Mother of Dragons... but the most surprising was perhaps when I was called Mhysa. It means mother."

There's a stretch of silence after her translation, where she considers the Day-One. They called her mother, but she'd failed them in many ways as she fumbled in her attempts to rule, not conquer. "Difficult to win that favor back, when you've lost it. But there are still some, and there will always be those to fight for."

It's not quite an answer in response to his comment, but it's the best she can proffer in the moment. Soon, he offers her what she seeks, and with a nod, she say, "Please."

Creatures thought to be of legend. "So I am magical, you think, with my dragons and my immunities. And you are magical with your words, I take it?"

"I hope your success continues then, if your previous titles are anything to go by. Have there been tales composed yet? Having so many names must make the poets very happy indeed."

The ones of Greece so loved their epitpets, after all. Chiron's understanding of what Westeros' literary and oral culture doesn't exist, but this is a pathway to understanding.

"Doubtlessly you've already been told to account for wind and environment in firing," he continues, eyes resting on the bow. "But accounting for your own movement is just as important. Release a few arrows, and note if your bow moves any during that moment. That will impact your final target."

It's all little things. Little things that can be focused on while having heavier discussions.

"You have a talent for a particular type of magic. I am a being of pure magic, as I am a summoned spirit."

That earns a light laugh, followed by a shake of the head. "None I've heard of, alas. There are far more titles than that, Chiron. Don't be dazzled yet."

She's not so naive to believe they have tales of her, lest they're about her dragons. It's as ridiculous as the idea of the smallfolk making toasts in her name while she'd been across the Narrow Sea. Silly and stupid. She wasn't as gullible as her brother had been.

His words are those of one seasoned with a weapon, and she considers her bow thoughtfully. He's spared a brief look upon mention of being pure magic, and then she's aiming at the target.

"Like a god?" she asks, then looses the shot. She'll notch the next one, ignoring that she's missed her target completely this time.

"Just because they haven't reached your ears doesn't mean they don't exist in some form or another," he counters lightly. "They're likely being worked and re-worked, elaborated and built upon. The stories need to be told a number of times and go through their paces before anyone actually writes it down."

The ones Chiron lived through were not on parchment in his own time. It took much longer for the tales of himself, his students, the gods, the matter of Troy to finally move past the poets and onto the page.

"In life, I would have said that you were not far off. But now," he pauses, not offering a comment on the target that has been missed. "I was summoned as part of a ritual, and meant to be a servant."

"Likely they speak of the foreign invader riding her dragon's back, bringing with her savages and eunuchs." For however lightly it's said, she gives no hint that such claims bother her. For a place purportedly so civilized, Westeros' nobility can be rather backward. "But I will keep such advice firmly in mind, and refrain from any offense over not hearing the tales of my adventures."

The next arrow just skims the target's rim, before clattering off course. She's noticed her bow shifts just slightly upon her release. Twice, now.

"To serve what, exactly?" She reaches for another bow, glancing at him briefly. Irriella watches him, still as a statue. "And how can one summon you, when you are flesh and bone?"

"There's a chance that the final version won't ever reach your ears," he says with a light shrug. "I know that mine certaintly weren't done when I passed."

If Chiron's bothered by that, he says nothing. What he does know is that the version of himself that is still very much alive does take issue with stories that have been written down and what kind of deeds they inspire.

But that is a personal matter. Chiron's own attention is now better spent on how that bow shifts, and gauging the exact movement of it. Before offering advice on that, Chiron decides to make a point.

For a moment, he stands there. In the next, his form begins to disappear into gold dust, before there is nothing at all. It is perhaps a cheap trick to do this, but it is far easier to make the point like this.

Chiron reappears on the opposite side of Daenerys, his arms folded across his chest. "I'm a spirit, composed and maintained by magic energy, just as those who are living are sustained by food and water."

And then: "You've noticed that you pull slightly by now, right? Try moving your aim over slightly to the right, and see how that impacts your final target."

When he passed? Drogo had no recollection of his death, so how can Chiron possibly--she inhales sharply as his body dissipates into gold dust. Irriella at once begins clicking her mandibles in a frantic rhythm, even as Dany steps closer to where he'd just been standing, reaching for the quickly dimming remnants of him.

It's gone before she can touch it, and she's left casting her gaze about. How could he possibly... but a person can't just simply disappear! Unless his physical form was nothing more than an illusion. Was this magic such as the likes of Pyat Pree's? Certainly not blood magic, this much she can say for certain. But he'd made no motion, nor had he done anything to suggest a spell had been cast.

"Lady mother!"

Dany spins around, just in time to catch Chiron reappearing. It takes much for genuine surprise to morph her features, having grown adept at schooling her expression. This, however, is the exception. She stares at him with widened eyes and a mouth hanging slightly open.

"How did you move?" She'd not felt the gust or the heat of him. Would magical energy have a physical feeling to it? She shakes her head, sharply, dispelling the first question. "How do you sustain yourself, now? You said you were summoned, that words held power. Are you bound to COST?"

She doesn't like the notion of that, and sincerely hopes that's not the case.

His advice receives a nod, but she doesn't make to take aim again. Not until she hears his answer.

"Being a spirit gives me some advantages, such as declining to take physical form."

Spirit, he hopes, gives a few things away. Where his differences with the living Chiron begin, for one, and why he can speak of death so easily. Those are intertwined, yes, but he considers them distinct matters.

"The type of energy I require can be drawn from various sources, although the set up here is a bit more unusual than most. More traditionally, I would be summoned to partake of a particular ritual, and be bound to the person who called me forth. The contract between the two parties can be complicated, but it boils down to this: they supply magic energy, and I fight on their behalf."

It is more nuanced, and Chiron expects questions. But for here, now, and getting the basics down, there's no reason to overcomplicate.

"Do you enjoy being a spirit?"

'Spirit' proffers much in terms of what he may be. Still, it's such a foreign concept to her. But is it really? When the dead may be revived, as Jon's spoken of, and she's witnessed in a dream, then why can a spirit not rise?

She dares to take a step closer to him, attention rapt as he further explains this. Another step, and she could extend her arm to try and touch him. Dany doesn't. She knows he is real. He'd been real that day she'd drowned and attacked him.

"How does this... current situation hold you?" If he says he is bound to Grothia or Chiron, well... "I imagine this person who calls upon you does so against your wishes? Do you have any say in that ritual?"

"It's...hm." No one had ever asked if Chiron actually enjoyed this new form or not. It was certainty different from what he was used to, but any actual pleasure? It was embarrassing that he had to actually stop and think about that fact. "There are advantages and drawbacks to it, the same with being a human versus centaur versus anything else"

He did miss his proper form though, that much he could admit to and feel no shame in the sentimentality of it. It was only to make it harder to guess who he was in the Grail War that Chiron had even accepted a change in shape.

"You can refuse to answer the call, but I don't know if it has been done before. The ritual, called the Holy Grail War, promises the victor and the mage who has called them forth a single wish each that can change either the past, present, or future. It's hard not to be tempted by such a thing."

Chiron's own wish, regaining his immortality, was something he was questioning now after speaking to himself. No one else knew that though, especially none of his fellow servants.

"At the moment, I'm unbound and can sustain myself. That may change in time."

Her lips twist in the faint traces of amusement. That answer is a non-answer, in many ways. There are advantages and disadvantages, indeed, to so very many things. This place is a prime example of such. Being happy, however, or enjoying a new opportunity to live...

"But this... spirit--this is what you are, now? I imagine it's proffered you much in the way of new experiences?"

Some, hopefully, were enjoyable. She grips her bow, her gaze lingering on him for a moment longer before she turns and notches the next arrow. With her surprise (mostly) abated, she focuses on his advice from earlier while he still speaks.

Aiming, she says: "What would one gain from refusing that call? Are you expected to be the sorcerer's slave whilst you battle? Do you know these other spirits?"

The temptation to change past, present, or future. She frowns, sparing the Day-One a brief glance. She's since ceased with her clicking, and watches Chiron with a wary air. "COST allows us that very same opportunity."

The thought's murmured lightly, and then she's releasing the arrow. The solid thwunk! as it embeds itself in the third outer circle fills the silence for her, and she's soon turning a pleased little smile on to Chiron.

"How do you sustain yourself now? What circumstances may change that?"

"Well, it's offered me a chance to have two legs instead of four, which is doubtlessly a mixed bag." He can't run as fast as he used to, which frankly, is nonsense. It's also a very strange thing to actually say outloud, and the novelty of that fact puts a small smile on Chiron's face.

As she aims, Chiron keeps his voice low, as not to disrupt concentration. In the heat of fighting, that won't be an option, but for now? Far more important to get these key things down.

"That is rather the point. In ignoring it, there's no benefit. In responding, you could potentially have everthing and defy fortune. As for the nature of the arrangement," Chiron paused, seeking the best way to respond. "In theory, the mage in question could do that. It's foolish, but possible. Those who are wise work alongside the spirit they've summoned, rather than issue ultimatiums. The young woman who called me forth is an excellent partner."

There's a faint smile on Chiron's face. Fiore was a kind hearted girl, far better suited to the world outside of magi, one that didn't demand cold demeanors and having no emotions.

"Sometimes yes, you do know the spirits you fight against. But it can be a complete matter of chance."

There's an irony in how COST affords the same opportunity as the Grail War, given how hard it has pushed Chiron to re-examine his own decisions. He murmurs only, "Very much so."

Silence follows, along with a grimmer face that Chiron is glad that no one can see. The arrow finding it's target puts a smile on Chiron's face as well. Good, that means she's figured out how to account for movement. "That's an improvement. When you're in less controlled conditions, you need to account for other factors like wind, so needing to correct this is actually a huge boon for you in the long run."

Archery and mana feels like a strange combination, but Chiron answers the question frankly. "Food, sleep, slipping into that invisible form, all of those help with energy conservation. In combat though, when it would be natural for me to invest energy into my true capabilities, I can potentially run myself into nothingness if I don't pay careful attention or find another tether."

Two legs instead of four. It's such a queer thing to say that it surprises a huff of laughter out of her. "I can imagine how strange it must be, in more ways than one. Did you struggle much when you first walked on two?"

It seems a great temptation. Partake in battle and possibly win such a power. "So you battle other spirits and mages, all in the hopes of achieving victory for this wish. I would say it strange, but I suppose it's much the same as my world, where we battle for a throne." Similar enough, at least, that she understands the appeal of that wish. "What becomes of the losers in these battles? Spirits cannot die, I imagine?"

In her world, typically when a person dies, they remain dead.

"The wind will very much throw things off balance." She regards the target with the lightest hint of a frown. "Drogon, my fiercest, was struck by a spear. A similar idea enough to a bow, but thrust from a mechanical device our enemies created. But arrows? Those were easily deflected off his scales, or by the gusts of wind his wings created."

The attack on the Lannisters is still vivid as ever, despite it no longer being her most recent memory. To account of wind would be a difficulty that would take her time, and time is a luxury she doesn't have.

"Do you slip into that invisible form often, here?" She reaches for Irriella, and the spiderling scurries back up her arm, perching upon her shoulder once more. 'True capabilities' is another strange figure of speech. It's like he dangles more and more curiosities before her, coaxing her closer, engulfing her more fully into his world with each answer. "What will happen to you, then? You've no tether here, especially not whilst we're employed in a mission."

"Strangely enough, the movement was natural. What I was not used to was the amount of space I took up." Years of being used to one's behind being a ways well, behind...is hard to shake. "There were moments of looking over my shoulder to account for myself, only to find nothing there."

It's the first time he's admit it, actually, and Chiron shakes his head at himself. Riduclous, that's what it was. Something that no one else needed to hear about, and yet...well. Chiron could trust that this particular detail wasn't one that would be shared.

"A different prize, and I imagine slightly different rules. Heroic Spirits would be comparable to your dragons more than anything else, and would take the place of any additional armies." There are likely spirits who come with their armies, but Chiron can't think of any who might fit that bill. "Spirits pass in their way, and become raw energy again. That raw energy fills the Holy Grail itself, and eventually gives it the power to grant the victors' wish."

It was a neat, tidy system with little waste, in it's way.

"There are bows that are just as mechanical. You just need to reload the arrow and pull a trigger, and the firing is done for you, so long as you line the shot up. Learning this is far more demanding of time and concentration. But better, because once you've masted this, the one I just described is truly no work."

Crossbows, guns, everything builds on the principles of proper archery. It was better to work with the harder equipment first in order to build the fundamentals.

"If I've nothing else to do, yes," Chiron confirms. It was rare that he didn't sit up in the library reading though, or spend time working with the equipment in the training rooms. "If I run myself ragged and deplete my energy supply, I cease to be. Simple as that."

People die when they are killed. Heroic spirits die when they have no mana.

[OPEN] Like the stars chase the sun, over the glowing hill, I will conquer

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hnn that lady mother line was supposed to be irriella saying it

Gotcha! also in which someone foreshadows his exact problem in current game time

lmao chironnnn go bond with dragon mama

I mean it is a possibility.

:P

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