Wayfinders (Season 7): Stoking the Fires

At the Aries Forge, within the Dawnforges, the Wayfinders are currently resting while communicating with two groups, the Order of the Sun and the Nexus Freedom Fighters, in an attempt to lesson the damage of a coming catastrophe by the hands of the Nexus Freedom Fighter’s leader, Alessa.
As the group plans, Gabriel, the white haired gnome wizard, pretends to rest in his bedroll while actually taking out a small black pearl. A gift from a very infernal “acquaintance”.
Gabe now holds the pearl in between his pale fingers and just stares at it with a conflicting expression. His hazel eyes are focused upon the pearl with a cautious curiosity that evolves into pure amazement before descending into regret all the while his lips quiver as if the words he wants to say are on the tip of his tongue but they just won’t come out. Finally, steeling his nerves as best he can, he presses the orb close to his lips and whispers,” H-hi... I d-don’t know if y-you’re listening... an-and I don’t r-really mind... I’m just going to start talking... you can... you can respond if you f-feel like it... or not.”
It is not instant, the response. The flames flicker against a wall casting shadows of the many people crowed around a war machine that, when awoken, will cause untold damage to the world. The shadows make out words in Gnomish that take time for the wizard to notice is directed at him. 'I hear you.' Being heard by a Devil is not, in fact, the best thing that can happen to you. Also not the worst.
Uncertain of the reason, Gabriel feels a bit of relief knowing he is being heard. “I’m going to take a shot in the closet here and guess you know a lot about me. M-maybe more than I’d like for you to know, but the one thing I want to know is how we’re related. Just having white hair c-can’t be the only reason.” The gnome pauses his speech in Common to switch to Gnomish. “I’m so confused. T-the world I see isn’t the same as what Cass, Elara, or Safina see... I... I just don’t want to lose them and acting as good as they want me too makes sure that won’t happen... Right?”
The shadows take form against the warm light of the campfire. In Gnomish new words form. Short sentences for a sleepy, quiet crowd. 'No.' Just one word. It is not comforting. New words appear unsolicited. 'Be yourself. Trust yourself.' Another pause in the shadows as Gabe finds that Notte is also watching intently as if he found a red dot to chase. 'True friends value your perspective.' The tendrils of a seducer start to curl around an impressionable mind.
“But I don’t have a perspective. Well I don’t think so...,” the boy continues, spilling his heart to the one creature he most likely shouldn’t,” I don’t want there to be peace because... because I think it’s a lie. You can help everyone... You can’t save everyone... If someone steals from someone else then that other person has a right to it... People die everyday... but also I don’t want people to be evil!” Upon shifting the subjects to evil, the boy’s voice becomes more passionate and vivid like an aspiring leader when he speaks,” I’ve lived in a city where people live in the trash of snobs and bullies. I’ve seen kids choke on the broken splinters of a wand, women chained for stealing food to feed their families, and grown men reduced to tears after being told they can’t afford anything. Those hypocrites in the upper cities try their best to keep everyone down because I know deep down they’re afraid. They’re afraid of people like me who can do the things they do and one day realizing that I can do it better. That’s why everyday I got caught and thrown in a cell all I heard was insult after insult until it amount into the degradation of my character! And worse they use fear to keep them silent or worse put them into their final sleep! They tried to kill Yorkie just so I’d give them a reason to have me executed....” He pauses as he catches his breathe. For a moment, the bunny became something more, his own thoughts fully formed but quickly muddled by his own anxieties. “I just like things to be balanced. Laws are fine if they keep people safe and chaos is cool as long as everything is fair. Evil can live as long as it’s not extreme, but something purely “good” doesn’t exist... That sounds conflicting to me... So I think it’s wrong... Am I wrong?”
There is that long pause that gives time for thoughts to process in the brain pan. 'So you do have perspective' The person on the other side is not the person you want as a father figure. Yet. These are strange times in Arhor'ha. Weeks ago everyone was in a tavern looking to find the next steps in their lives and now look at where they are. In a closed room talking to a Devil via shadow texts.
It continues on. 'Share it. Build upon it.' Build resonates strongly like a fight anthem in the mind and soul of the young wizard.
'Be strong. Believe.'
“No one would listen to me. And even if they did I’m not the coolest guy... I’m not like those heroes in the Tomb of the People... I’m a child who had his granny taken away from him for no apparent reason and is talking to a devil who knows more him than he does, and if he doesn’t even...”
The child pauses.
What more could he tell him. This creature. This fiend. This devil. This force of nature. What’s stopping him from just killing him right now. His minds shifts, he ponders for a moment, and asks,” What does my white hair mean?”
The shadows form into the next sentence 'It means people should listen to you.' A much longer phrase and the letters of gnomish dance about the room. To most they are abstract figments of the shadow. However before they flicker out it guides the eyes to the people in the room. All of them should listen.
The shadows guide it back to the secret spot in the room where Gabe speaks with the Devil of the Day 'Find your voice. Use it.' It fades to the light, forming anew. 'Build. Show them. Help them.' Oh-ho! A Devil that wants you to help people. Maybe people are all wrong about this guy, just like they were wrong about Gabe. A kindred spirit with similar hair. 'Find your voice. Use it.' it repeats.
“But what if I’m wrong? I already cause bad things to happen just by being nearby... I’m sure you saw what happened to Nexus and New Haven when that golem attacked... I can’t explain it but I’m cursed...,” the gnomish boy says with conviction as his eyes follow the shadows, becoming enthralled by the charm and guidance of an unlikely source. “I-I just need more time. I-I’m n-not ready yet I d-d-don’t even know how to use, find, or build my voice, friendships, or anything... I couldn’t even separate some acidic negatively charged goop from a 2 gram sample of dirt...,” His stutter returns slightly, though the seed of possibly has already sewed itself deep into the boy’s mind as he examines the pearl in his grasp. He starts to second guess himself as he thinks,” But I did create my own wand. I made a glass bomb. I fixed a compass, sorta.... If I became like Gig then my friends would never love me... I’d be alone again.... but then again what am I trusting Gig so much? I could be a hero and just have bad powers... I am bad kinda but not really I just no maybe I-“
His thoughts become a jumbled mess, lost in an endless sea of possibility with no clear path. He descends into silence for a long time, letting the shadows be his new starts as in his mind the outline of his grandmother forms and stands out among the masses.
“I’ll try. But you might not like the results. I don’t think anyone will,” The young gnome mumbles as his words carry a grim foreboding quality,” I’m going to build something. Something that’s going to give me everything I need, and I’m going to find the people that took my Gran Gran from me.”
The boy turns over in his bedroll to be on his side as he fully faces the shadows. “When they see me... I want them to know something. I want them to know that they made a deal with evil and I did too. They did things their way and I did too. Only difference is that I sacrificed more... and when evil came back with trouble, stared at those guys, and made them give up their lives... I want them to remember that they blinked when it was time to pay up... I won’t... If I’m going to stare into the Abyss and it stares back at me then I’m making sure it won’t be me who blinks first...”
There is no response from the shadows anymore. The light and the dark have played their part and now the fire has reached a point where it no longer is threatened by lack of fuel or oxygen. That it rages hot enough to melt the soft metals and fold them into beautiful crafts. That it threatens to melt iron. Flux to steel. To be something special. Notte waits for more words, too, but when none come he curls his black tail around him and settles into a cat-like nap. Two small creatures hanging on the words of a madman that has gone silent.