What is Justice? (Closed)

[Sigdrifa]

Thrum of the Grand Cathedral

The world around her was bright. Shades of white and gold radiated with bloom all throughout the vast expanse, the brightness of it all such that any who was not born of this very light would be eternally blinded by it. The world had a constant yet soft "thrum" all around it, while the life, both the tangible and intangible, that danced through the air sung their eternal songs. Most went along in concordance with that very thrum, yet some sung their own song, and they sung louder than most. One day they would be leading the chorus, with the others singing their song as they looked to find their own verses and lyrics. One day, that chorus leader would wind up like Sigdrifa.

The redhaired Celestial didn't pay much mind to the world around her. The Aether was home, yes, but it was also the place where her purpose mattered least. She already overcame the swarm of non-sentient celestials, molded by Justice itself into the form she proudly bore to this day. It was home, but she mattered little while she visited. It inspired strange feelings that were in perpetual conflict with each other. On the other hand, even if she was essentially useless in the Aether, Sigdrifa still found some sort of peace in being there. On the other hand there was a darker emotion, one that stabbed away at what she imagined was her very heart, and inspired a sense of restlessness.

Sigdrifa knew not what it was. She could not acknowledge such a feeling. It had to be an imperfection, something she suffered during her last skirmish in the physical plane. If anything such an emotion served as a reminder of why she needed to return home: to heal and rest. 

Her body glowed the same whites and golds that surrounded her, her very essence rejuvenating and purifying as she sat in the grand cathedral. Though she had no true memories of the place she knew that, at one point in time, she danced all around that very cathedral. Singing the songs of others until she found her own. Now there she was, forced to listen to foreign songs until she was ready to march on once again. To continue the never-ending fight.

[Brynhildr]

She walked.

A lot of people did that. It wasn't really anything special, all things considered, in a world where being 'merely human' was the worst possible fate - where flight, teleportation, speed beyond sight, leaps so great they could cover castles, or simply barreling directly through that castle was possible. She certainly wouldn't... walk into a fight and expect that to send her foes running in abject horror. And that was all in Elibe; in a world where thoughts became reality, where the base power level for anything sentient was 'superhuman', where even the weakest existences were existences of pure Aether magic - well, Brynhildr suspected that her celestial kin would be even less impressed by the spectacle of... walking.

In that simplicity was a sort of release all its own, though, the opportunity to - as a quaint human saying she had recently learned and immediately become enamored of - went; 'stop and smell the roses'. There had actually been rose bushes along the side of the path for a while. She, as with most celestials, simply took the Aether for granted most of the time - it had been eye opening to discover that humans saw it in much the same way that she had seen Elibe originally. Since her last summary ejection back to the Aether, she had taken to trying to appreciate it a bit more for its own traits.

Which led the subject to her current journey, namely, simply wandering wherever her feet led her, allowing her subconscious to shape her path. It was - strange, to be a passive observer and active participant simultaneously, and early on it had been hard to keep from actively altering things, but since then it had become surprisingly relaxing to simply see the storyline that her instincts and the Aether had combined to make for her. For a while she had been walking on clouds, likely because she was a talentless hack when it came to actual imagination. Bryn couldn't help but smile a bit at the thought. Then it had been a beautiful pathway, a stone road that went on into the horizon. She wasn't sure what the inspiration for that had been, possibly something from her limited understanding of religion in Elibe? The things that were not things - the lights, the sounds; they too she had observed watched, taken in and enjoyed before leaving untouched.

There had been other things in the distance, sometimes monuments, sometimes citadels, but she had ignored them all. She wasn't sure if they were real or not, figments of her imagination or part of another celestial's world, and either way they represented destinations rather than journeys. Another time she might have investigated - would have done so, and might yet - but for now she was simply wandering.

That was the plan, anyways, before one had simply continued to exist rather than disappearing, growing as she approached it and blocking her meandering path with its sheer girth. The valkyrie wasn't entirely sure what to make of it. Was it supposed to be some kind of metaphor? Was she having some sort of brain-unconscious disconnect? Had she actually stumbled upon God's abode, or was this but the workings of another celestial, perhaps one more enamored of order than her, who disliked or had simply grown tired of the natural order of things?

Well, curiosity killed the cat, as the saying went. If she wasn't a little on edge from the possibility of danger, Brynhildr might have allowed herself a small giggle at the thought. The people of Elibe had so many wonderful sayings! Truly a phrase for every occasion. She sometimes wondered if one could actually converse in them - an exchange of information through metaphors rather than directness. It sounded fun.

She didn't call out, but the sound of her mailed heels striking the floor was announcement enough of her presence. Brynhildr didn't care. She did not fear what laid ahead.

[Sigdrifa]

Just as Sigdrifa was beginning to relax into the pew she had chosen to sit on, her senses were alerted. A new sound clacked, echoing through the halls of the cathedral, drowning out the never-ending song for a brief second at a time. This was...the first time this had ever happened. Granted, going strictly off memory, Sigdrifa hasn't really had the awareness to compare to many scenarios where this COULD have happened but didn't. She's only had her current form for the better part of a month.

Still, it was happening: something physical had entered her piece of the Aether. Sigdrifa wasn't exactly territorial: it was the Aether. There would be life, sentient or non-sentient, everywhere always. However she did want to greet and judge this apparent guest. Standing up, her body still awash in the soothing light of the cathedral, she turned around and saw a...glorious being. Radiant blonde hair, bright blue eyes. Indeed, this being was perhaps as glorious as herself, most definitely a fellow celestial. She had armour and...were those wings? A warrior as well. Intriguing.

"Hail, sister." Sigdrifa was firm, but polite. It was only right to greet a guest with respect until they give you reason to do otherwise. The other female had just arrived, and had done nothing wrong. "Welcome to my...cathedral." She knew the name of the place, what sort of building her will had shaped, and yet speaking it aloud felt strange, in a way. She'd never had to welcome anyone to the cathedral before. The singers flowed and danced on their own accord, whether she attempted to commune with them or not. Only a powerful song could sway them, and Sigdrifa had no need to do so.

"Though I must wonder what brings you to my domain? I have never had a guest before...assuming you ARE sentient." Sigdrifa gave the warrior a scrutinizing look now, boldly striding up to her. As she studied her features more and more she felt a strange feeling churn within herself. It was...not a good feeling, and yet Sigdrifa knew not what it was. She did, however, know better than to acknowledge it anymore than that, and instead awaited a reply from this warrior.

[Brynhildr]

Sister.

Brynhildr's light smile betrayed but a little of her thoughts, her immediate intellectual response a sort of intellectual irony given the circumstances. It showed Elibe's corrupting touch on the other celestial, a sense of wording that was so alien, so fundamentally irrelevant to their kind that it was nonsense in motion - and yet by the power of concepts, simply by transforming a word from a literal statement to a metaphor, it became meaningful, accurate - information rather than idiocy. That they could be sisters in spirit but not blood was the power of transformative language; an experiment in inanity that both participated in willingly.

"Thank you." The valkyrie's words thrummed with the faint chorus of song that set their kind apart from mortals, a trait that varied wildly between celestials depending on how thoroughly they had ingratiated themselves into mortal society. Not that the wings left any particular questions as to her identity, though were it not for their location and manner, were she to encounter the other woman in Elibe, she might not even have realized the truth of the other's nature, at least not at a glance. Why was that? Had she in some way renounced the Aether, or did she idolize some aspect of Elibe? Was she aware of the humanity both within and without her, or was it simply part of her overall identity?

...Not that it truly mattered, Brynhildr supposed. She didn't know the other's story. But it was natural - perhaps even human - to wonder... and perhaps to take things a step further, to judge. But that was not her place, nor her desire. "...And well met... sister." Her tone was tinged in amusement, pure and arch all in one, her acknowledgement of the game of words they played not at Sidrifa's expense. "I did not think to find aught of value in my... morning stroll."

The pause of choosing her last few words had been evident, not that the valkyrie had particularly tried to hide it. The whole concept was silly beyond words. But it was simple truth, even if she polluted it with meaning. She simply stood, mostly relaxed, though on the balls of her feet, ready to move immediately if needed; a sort of warrior's rest that approached but did not quite truly meet casual posture. "You have my apologies for the intrusion."

[Sigdrifa]

Evidently this other woman was indeed a "sister" of sorts. Or a brother. It did not matter much in the end, but the form the blonde had taken either conscious or not was akin to a human female, much like Sigdrifa's, and so she would honour it. What really mattered was that she was indeed sentient. Self-aware and no longer feeling the need to sing a song at all. She had found her own song, and has so memorized it that it is woven into the very fabric of her being. It did not need to be sung, for so long as she existed it would be eternal.


It seemed as though she had simply taken a stroll, almost seeming at odds with that very idea. Indeed it was abnormal, yet completely normal all the same. It was abnormal for a Celestial...but what was normal for the sentient of their kind? Sigdrifa knew only herself, and the being before her. Her behaviour WAS normal for a Human, or Dragon. For mortal beings of the physical plane. Sigdrifa had seen them act without reason and act for no reason, and already she had noticed there was a difference between the two.

Done analyzing this sentient Celestial, Sigdrifa let out a snort of derision at her apology. "Apology unnecessary, but I suppose I shall accept it." Sigdrifa stepped closer to the blonde and boldly examined her further. Aside from the wings, and a few variations of colour throughout both of their appearances, they really did seem rather similar. Would all Celestials turn out this way once made sentient?

Unlikely.

"You are the first of our kind that I have met. Aware, and attuned to your own will." Sigdrifa took a single step back, but the boldness in her expression did not change. "You have left the Aether before, yes? Been to the plane below, to Elibe? I believe it shows in your mannerisms." Yes, but was that "good" or "bad"?

"This leaves me curious. What experiences do we share? What song do you sing?"

[Brynhildr]

They were still testing each other's defenses, trying to gauge the other, set aflame by the eternal question - 'what manner of creature is she?' Friend or foe, superior or inferior; the rawest, ugliest truths of socialization masked behind pretty smiles and pointed questions. She would call it human, but it was celestial as well, even if the manner in which they did so might be closer to human. Well, they had both been painted by Elibe's broad strokes, after all. Perhaps the twain were not such different things after all. Brynhildr did not rue nor regret their clash, though, for it was in struggle that truth was born, whether by sword or word.

And the Other was on the defensive, ignoring most of the niceties that many in Elibe took for granted. No greetings, no apologies, little in the wise of graciousness. Forceful. Direct. Was that who she was, or how she acted? She claimed to have never met a fully fledged Celestial before. Did she have her own ideals of how one should act? She was certainly interested in her, Brynhildr was not quite blind enough to miss the inspection, but aside from a cursory inspection of her own she was not so much interested in the words and motions of her counterpart so much as her thoughts. And so she simply stood, resolute and unyielding, unaware of the very concept of weakness in this moment.

"Yes." The winged warrior delivered her statement with all the subtlety of a hammer's blow, only clarifying after the fact. "Elibe's song has always mingled with my own. I am but resting here before returning." The words brought to mind the reason why she was here, and Brynhildr's left middle wing twinged with phantom pain for an instant, jerking ever so subtly in incongruence with the stony nature of the rest of her body. Not so long ago it had been ragged and torn, useless and delicate where it was meant to be her shield, and the experience had stuck with her. To be savaged so brutally, saved by a human, was an event that none too subtly inspired great consideration, much as it had forced her to recuperate in the Aether as she pulled herself back together.

But the perspective of her words passed her by entirely - the concept of 'returning' to Elibe, rather than to the Aether, betrayed more of her mindset than Brynhildr realized in the moment. Perhaps she had not even realized at all how Elibe had warped her. She continued onward, pleasantness matched by steel. "It would be rude of me to intrude upon your sanctuary and yet refuse you, sister, yet I have not even a name by which to address you. I am Brynhildr, the blade that cleaves evil." Finally moving, the valkyrie extended one gauntleted hand to Sigdrifa, a gesture of acceptance she had seen and experienced many times in Elibe that had always seemed quite poetic to her. It was an act of making the metaphorical literal, of signifying an intellectual connection that became physical, emotional. An offer to not be 'intruder' and 'other,' but Brynhildr and sister, no matter what their relationship became.

[Sigdrifa]

It appeared her counterpart was indeed resting from a trip to Elibe, confirmed Sigdrifa's theory. Not all that surprising given that she, herself, had made the venture back to Aether in order to recover from her own excursions and hardships. Even if she didn't suffer any serious damage it seemed that extended periods on Elibe gradually whittled away at her. Perhaps it was just a natural reaction for Celestials. After all: they were not of that realm. Perhaps it attempted to reject them with it's very nature and elements?

Sigdrifa's thoughts did not distract her from the every move of her counterpart, however. Their dance, their duet, was not yet finished. It seemed returning to Elibe was very much a part of this sister's plan. It was part of Sigdrifa's as well, for her work was not finished until all of Elibe was forced to sing her song. Did that make this one a rival? Competition? Was she spreading her song, her concept and will, to the chaotic and sinful masses of Elibe? Even if she was bringer of order, would her order be the same as Sigdrifa's own? Every revelation brought with it further questions still.

The sister spoke again, apparently lamenting over their lack of proper introductions. They had yet to exchange names and this one give hers first. 'Brynhildr, the blade that cleaves evil'. Perhaps their songs were similar after all, but Sigdrifa had to hold back a scoff at the moniker all the same. She grasped Brynhildr's gauntlet all the same, hard and firm, and met her in eye contact. It was a mortal custom back on Elibe, she knew this, but she still understood it. "Sigdrifa is mine name." She answered bluntly. "Well met, Brynhildr." She would not address her with the moniker that followed the name. It sparked some less than optimal thoughts in Sigdrifa, though she did her best to refrain from expressing that.

"You are not an intruder. Not in the negative sense." Sigdrifa released her sister's hand, and regarded her with a cool gaze. There was little suspicion left in Sigdrifa, and instead more genuine curiosity. "Rather a visitor, a kindred spirit. A sister, as we've established. It appears we may have taken up similar songs, and I have to wonder if that is your purpose for touching down upon Elibe. Do you wish to spread your song among them?"

[Brynhildr]

"Sigdrifa." Brynhildr was pensive for a moment before nodding in silent approval. She didn't see a great deal of value in patronizing the other celestial by telling her how cool her name was, but it WAS a fitting name. A strong name, the kind that found themselves in history books and heroic tales. She didn't know what manner of woman this 'Sigdrifa' actually was, that was the sort of knowledge that only experience could truly reveal, but it was a first good impression. Brynhildr smiled, a look less guarded than her light smile early into their meeting, satisfied to some degree; there was peril in leaping to conclusions, but she felt a certain sense of kindred nonetheless; no matter how different their ideals or personalities might be, in some ways they were hewn from the same stone.

...Even if for some reason she had this inexplicable urge to punch the other girl for an unknown slight.

How odd. Usually that only happened when people started insulting her.

Sigdrifa's words were informative and intriguing in equal parts nonetheless. Not so much in their direct meaning as the connotations, the implications; the idea of 'spreading' one's song. So she either knew or suspected that Brynhildr's drive was to change others rather than solely the self, in the latter case potentially a mirror to Sigdrifa's own mindset. Or perhaps not. Certainly she would not pretend to understand the other woman based off of a few implications. But words said far more than they were meant to, some times, and Bryn rather enjoyed jousting with them at times.

The purpose of her Elibe visits, though... in truth, she did not have an answer to that question. Or rather, she did, but it was not one she liked; that her sojourns to Elibe were repeated attempts to tune and tone her ideals, her goals, into absolute, actionable intelligence rather than simple concepts. Fancy words could sway the mind and heart, but to burn a truth into another's soul required action. How could she shoulder all their burdens herself? That was the answer she was searching for - among others, but it was perhaps chief among them. Brynhildr did not care to lead, but she felt the absolute need to use her strength for something greater than the self, and in chasing that ideal perhaps she could find fulfillment, of a kind.

"...Something like that," she returned with a smile that lay somewhere near the edge of embarrassment, gracious but conflicted. "Though I think it is by deed, not by word, that justice can spread. To ask others to sing alongside me is not my place; I must be the change I wish to see in the world." To strike down the wicked was but a natural and necessary component of her world view, not a goal in and of itself; she had to practice what she preached, to use another quaint human idiom. To become justice rather than simply dispensing it. Perhaps it would be simpler if she did try to enforce her ideals on others, but to rob them of agency, of free will, would trivialize and negate the very concept she fought for. If the strong did not choose to bear the burdens of the weak, if they did not choose to use their strength for those 'beneath' them rather than simply for themselves, it was a sort of intellectual slavery of its own.

[Sigdrifa]

Slowly but steadily the two Celestials were beginning to come to a silent understanding. Sigdrifa couldn't help but feel some sort of faint kinship with this Brynhildr, especially when she answered her question. It appeared that her song was but another side of Sigdrifa's own. The same message, yet told through a different tale. Another story, so to speak. Naturally Sigdrifa could not help but think that this Brynhildr must be wrong somewhere. She wanted to embody the change she wished the world to see...

"I see." Sigdrifa's blunt reply came. "I suppose my methodology differs from yours. I don't focus on becoming this change, but rather enforcing it. Not on the innocent, or the just, but on their opposites. Fix what is broken in the world." Becoming the change you wish to see...to Sigdrifa that felt like a defeat of purpose. She already was the change she wished to see. Her song was already written. What she truly required of the world was to hear her song and understand. They did not need to sing with her, but they best not sing against her. 

"Placing an ideal forth and expecting the people to emulate it is rather idealistic." Yes, that's where Brynhildr must have gone wrong. There was nothing wrong with ideals, they both embodied them, but this was a matter of execution. What was the best way to bring their ideals, the lyrics and meanings written into the very fabric of their beings, to life?

[Brynhildr]

Brynhildr's brow furrowed at her sister's strange words, not especially happy with what she was hearing but trying to comprehend and understand them nonetheless. In some ways Sigdrifa was simply being bluntly honest in a way that ran afoul of common decency - there were countless facets of human culture in which saying the truth was rude, something that people did not want to hear, and the subject of free will was perhaps chief among them. No matter how set their lives were, most choose to believe in free will and choice no matter what. So by that standard, it was understandable, even natural, to be offended by the prospect of forcing others to follow another doctrine.

But neither valkyrie was human, nor was Brynhildr herself too much more worried about that thought than Sigdrifa - though she suspected she did take that subject more seriously than the other woman. And yet it was oddly difficult for a moment to grasp WHY Sigdrifa's words rankled at her so, and yet in the next moment just as clear. It was simply not a subject that Brynhildr could play the fool at, even if she had wanted to; to exist as the manifestation, the embodiment of her Song, by its very definition she had to understand it and believe it on a level that few mortals could comprehend. At best they could clumsily label it fanaticism, without a better word to describe the concept, completely missing its full meaning.

But Sigdrifa answer seemed to almost - insult her own ideology. It was as if she did not believe that she could be right until everyone else agreed, as though her ideal of justice was not Truth so much as simply an ideal - something to force upon others. "...I disagree," Brynhildr stated coolly, simply, not sure if she was more offended by Sigdrifa's seeming betrayal of her own goals or the idea that justice was something that had to be defined. The Valkyrie crossed her arms, not exactly defensive so much as defiant, defining herself in her ideals. "True justice is not some trifle that must be foisted on others by force - it is a self-evident truth that must be lived rather than given lip service; a light that shines brighter than day even through darkest night. I believe it is an ordeal against which we must prove ourselves, not simply some..."

One hand emerged from her embrace, waved dismissively; Brynhildr wasn't angry, but 'stubborn' would be a minor understatement when her ire was aroused about subjects of philosophy, especially those she held very close to home, and by necessity there was some emotion involved. "-exercise of the strong to abuse the weak."

[Sigdrifa]

At first it seemed this sister wished to discuss justice with Sigdrifa. Debate the concept and it's applications. This actually pleased Sigdrifa a fair bit. She never truly had the opportunity to have such a debate or discussion. However the insult, though veiled, did not escape the fiery valkyrie's ears. Her eye twitched, an action she otherwise would have noted as strange, but she took a breath to keep her cool. It seemed Brynhildr thought of her as some manner of bully on the pitiful. 

"My actions are not against the weak and pitiful." Sigdrifa started, her tone cool but her gaze hot like the sun. "I stand against those with power, who choose to misuse their power. Turn it against the weak. Those are the foes that require my attention first." 

She did not bully the powerless, but she didn't present an ideal forth to them either. Not at first, and certainly not as her only recourse. "Are you not already the change you wish to see in the world? Is that not the form you have taken? Hmph, the downtrodden, oppressed, and fearful need more than to simply gaze upon us. I agree on deed over speech, action over words, but the primary goal is to apply our actions onto the darkness of that world."

Sigdrifa huffed and shrugged, crossing her arms over her chest. "Understand that I do not exercise my might on those who do not deserve it. Beyond that think what you will. I am sure you will come to understand my song. Just don't try and interrupt it."

[Brynhildr]

"Hm." Brynhildr wasn't... exactly... the most open minded of individuals when it came to going back on anything she said, though she DID try not to be too, er, dogged about her beliefs, but it seemed she and Sigdrifa were not quite connecting right on some level for the other woman to bristle so thornily at her words. She didn't feel in the least bit sorry for it, Sigdrifa's own words had cut at the heart of her own ideology and that was simply not something she could have let stand, but neither did the celestial seek to cause strife or insult her counterpart without reason.

But... she didn't understand Sigdrifa's endgame. The goal of her actions. Certainly, to spread justice meant to - well - spread justice. To make it self-evident, the 'law of the land' if you will. Brynhildr betrayed no distaste at Sigdrifa's fiery retort, but her brow furrowed as she tried to think her way through it, not distracted so much as focusing heavily on it. She wanted to understand, but it was clear that she did not. And she had offended the other celestial, but that barely registered as a fact, much less a problem.

"Say... your beliefs are sound," the blonde warrior ventured, emerging from her cocoon of thought to address Sigdrifa again with searching eyes. "That your ideal of Justice is acceptable." Without truly understanding it, Brynhildr could not make that judgement herself, but for the sake of argument, or rather debate, she was willing to take it at face value. "There will always be those who fall afoul of it, and there is but one of you, constrained to one location at a time. Do you believe you, alone, can enforce your will on an entire world?"

She still wasn't sure if she actually understood Sigdrifa's ideals that well, but that was what gnawed at her. The other valkyrie's ideals seemed to place her as the sole judge, jury, and executioner of the world - with no interest in others, no concern for a support system, for an army or a religion. Brynhildr did not care in the least for Sigdrifa's self-imposed status as judge as a mortal might; it didn't even register to her at all really. It was only natural for those born of light to believe themselves the final authority in their own belief system. But she did not understand how Sigdrifa's ideology was to become self-sustaining. "Surely there must be some method by which your order would become self-sustaining, is there not?"

[Sigdrifa]

At first Sigdrifa thought Brynhildr had come to understand her, for a brief second or two. However her face seemed troubled despite her silence, so Sigdrifa realized that she was still attempting to prove her wrong. Hm, it did not matter how much thought she put into it. Sigdrifa knew her song, and it was simple to understand. Yet that did not seem to stop Brynhildr nonetheless. The blonde celestial pondered on in her silence before presenting forward a hypothetical...

...And to Sigdrifa's chagrin the hypothetical did seem to stump her. It was true, there was but one of her. The trap here was that she needed to say others, the good ones below, needed to follow her and learn to stand for justice on their own. Yet that contradicted her criticisms of Brynhildr. And if she tried to FORCE her beliefs on people then she contradicted herself, and she was a bully. Of course the red-haired celestial had no intention of doing either, though in truth she did not care if mortals followed in her ideals took after them. She just wasn't going to waste valuable time coaxing them into it, or however Brynhildr does it.

Hm, despite being temporarily stumped, Sigdrifa was...not as angry at this conundrum as she had been with Brynhildr's previous statement. Even she barely understood why that was, but it allowed her to think clearly on her own ideal.

"I presume you handle this issue by inspiring the mortals, or so forth. But mortals...are all different. They are as unpredictable as they are predictable." Sigdrifa stated, calmer now. "Mortals are also temporary. Mortal, after all. They die so swiftly and so easily...even if some of the good are inspired by your actions to stand up for justice, how far can they push the good fight? Do they even come close to outnumbering the selfish, greedy, and wicked?"

Sigdrifa was confident now, smirking as she stood at full height, stating boldly; "If mortals take after me then so be it. I suppose it is only natural for at least some to try when they witness radiance such as mine...or ours. I will never make it my focus to inspire or convince them to do so, for I will never stop fighting. So long as I am strong, and my conviction is sound, I will always raise my blade against darkness. Regardless of the odds. Because relying on mortals to create a self-sustaining order is...not sound. Unreliable. They are as predictable as they are unpredictable."

[Brynhildr]

"I see. An admirable determination." Brynhildr's words were simple and neutral, but there was no sarcasm or poison to them, at least not in her intention; how they were taken was always up to the listener, and given their previous clashes it would not be entirely unreasonable for Sigdrifa to take them negatively. But she was honest, in her own way. She respected Sigdrifa's drive and willingness to stand against all odds, even if their ideals were not perfectly identical; they were not fundamentally opposing, and so she did not begrudge the other woman her beliefs.

But she didn't think she agreed, either. Bree didn't see how any system of justice that did not eventually become self-sufficient could stand the test of time. Eventually, Sigdrifa would die, as all things did. Not even those of Aether were truly immune to that fact; they could be struck down in combat, even permanently killed rather than simply forced back to the Aether by sufficiently skilled and knowledgeable opponents. They could be subsumed into a far stronger celestial. Whatever the specifics, Sigdrifa alone could not impose her will upon an entire world forever, even if she had the strength to do so temporarily - which Brynhildr... doubted, though she did not say so; she did not doubt that the other celestial was a capable fighter, but she was underestimating humanity a great deal to think she could simply force them all to follow her will by force.

"Those born of Elibe are... fleeting in life, but they can wield determination and power as great as any Celestial, and even those who cannot face you in fair combat may band together with their kin to overwhelm you by numbers." Speaking from experience there, though Bree didn't see any need to casually mention the, er, unfortunate circumstances of her last pseudo-death. To be fair, they were very competent fighters; not a match for her durability, but between them and the strange weapons of war they had, they had overcome her nonetheless. "Perhaps... with enough strength, one could triumph over any force," she allowed, willing to admit the possibility that perhaps Sigdrifa was far stronger than her and might even be able to overcome such trials. "But by creating order, one can minimize the effect of negative elements they have not dealt with yet. Even if you can defeat every warlord and mad king who would oppose you, it will take time to do so, time in which the innocent are harmed."

Perhaps she was being too harsh on Sigdrifa, but Brynhildr was not trying to belittle the other woman's ideals, rather understand and gauge them. "Though I am in no position to preach to you. But the more I see of Elibe, the more I come to believe that any true change there must in some way involve the consent... preferably willing... of those there." The warrior who had saved her life, without expectation of recompense; he did not share her ideals, but he was a man of integrity nonetheless, perhaps closer to Sigdrifa's own ideals than her own, but not merely a potential threat. "And I have heard tales of mortal sages sustaining their existence through magic, though I know not their veracity."

[Sigdrifa]

If nothing else Brynhildr had begun to understand that Sigdrifa was no mere bully, she just refused to rely on the mortals on Elibe to carry out her ideals. There simply was no way that she could afford to do so. Mortals were too unpredictable, she had said that twice. Faith and hope were fine, but actively attempting to depend on them was an utter waste of time. Yet Brynhildr seemed to do just that, as if she believed her strength was not enough. There was fair logic to it, but the issue was that her logic seemed to end with Sigdrifa's flaws. There was no proper counter-point, simply that she was wrong.

Sigdrifa briefly pinched the bridge of her nose. At least the other Celestial had ceased her less-than subtle mockery. Being mocked was one thing, accepting her ideals weren't perfect was...difficult, but there was no way she would allow this sister to do so when her own ideals were flawed.


"You truly believe those on Elibe would change willingly?" Sigdrifa shook her head. "I feel as though you and I are of the same "age". We have existed in these forms for roughly the same period of time. Compared to even some of the shorter lived mortals, that's likely not so long, yes?" The uncrossed her arms at last, using her hands to emphasize her words. It must have been a tic she picked up from a mortal. "But how long do you believe Elibe has been this way? Just recently? Or since the very beginning? Do you believe that mortals have not known of a proper, just way to live their lives from that beginning? Obviously so, for every human that lives an unjust life there is one that lives a just life. I do not believe simply coaxing will inspire some change in them."

"By bringing up the mortals that can extend their lives, I presume you do so to mention that the mortals with such abilities could be shown "the light", so to speak? Most mortals that do as such tend to be full of greed, ruled by baser desires."

It was beginning to seem as though there was truly a rift between the two. Their ideals did not clash violently, Brynhildr was no simply opposite or enemy. They were parallels. Sigdrifa only wished that Brynhildr could see how her efforts were being wasted. No doubt if she followed her own ideology she would accomplish much more. Less time spent trying to inspire mortals and more time acting, fighting, doing the things that may inspire them anyway.

So Sigdrifa sighed, and decided to make a kinder point. After all the sister had ceased her mockery, she supposed she ought to ensure that she meant no true ill will either. "That said, I will rephrase a small point I made earlier. There is nothing wrong with inspiring them. It just should not be a focus, it's too unreliable. Act first, and always first. Let them be inspired by your actions. If they aren't then fine, keep on fighting. That is how I view the point."