we are not truly immortal

[dark_light]

After Glass's party is over with, Amariah and Kas go home.

Amariah fetches down their alethiometers.

"It's about time I took care of Alethia's afterlife, whatever it may be," she says quietly. "What can the alethiometer tell you about what I'll find?"

Comments

[small_magics]

"You must let me know if I should move, of course," she says, running her hand through his hair.

[endragoned]

"We will," rumbles Ansharil.

[her_imperial_radiance]

"Am I useful past this point? Since you didn't need me for the harpies."

[dark_light]

"You could also beat up angels, but so can Aianon; if you'd rather go home, go for it."

[her_imperial_radiance]

"Okay. Bye, everybody."

Elspeth goes.

[dark_light]

"Okay. Let's see about batch-teleporting."

And Amariah attempts to pick up everyone in the landing party and go to the Authority.

[pythbox]

In a word, no.

[dark_light]

Close-as-can-be, like how she found the dock, then.

[pythbox]

And—

They're all in the air, high above a thick layer of clouds, right next to a mountain that seems to sprout out of them and drag them up its slopes. The summit is completely misted over.

[dark_light]

Amariah flies. Up.

[lifes_sake]

Cam follows.

[endragoned]

Likewise the Jokers.

[dark_light]

The party ascends through the mist. Pattern's upgrade to the standard vision boost has propagated through the peal; both Bells can see through it if they want, which occurs to them after a few seconds of blind flight.

And this mountain -

Is definitely inhabited by angels.

[pythbox]

The very top of the mountain is still enclouded; apparently there is something magical about the mist there.

But they have another problem.

The first angel who sees their party squeaks and flees, beating insubstantial wings; a scant minute later, in a thunder of ghostly feathers, what seems like every angel in the mountain all come pouring out every available crevasse and make straight for Aianon, dragging at his wings and battering him with their misty limbs.

[endragoned]

...What am I to do? he wonders into the link, letting the celestial mob drag him slowly away from the mountain.

[dark_light]

If you can shake them off without killing them do it - can you? -

[endragoned]

I don't think I could so much as flap my wings without breaking one in half.

[dark_light]

Uuuuh. They're not hurting you, are they?

[endragoned]

It more sort of tickles, he snorts.

[dark_light]

Okay, then since they only attacked you in particular - I don't think we can assume they're hostile to the entire party, if you don't mind letting them carry you wherever they're going while we go try to talk to some others that would be good. You can try talking to them, if they'll listen.

[endragoned]

All right.

[dark_light]

And up flies everyone else.

[pythbox]

And out of the clouds at the very top of the mountain flies another angel, taller and brighter and more solid-looking than the rest.

He does not look pleased.

[dark_light]

"Hello," tries Amariah. "I am Isabella Amariah."

[pythbox]

"You are trespassing," thunders the angel. "Leave now."