Cel, I have no intention of staying in politics. It is not what I intend to do with my life. Besides... how would you ever manipulate me and take over the world hm? No, you need someone predictable.
"So what do you plan to do, then, when you leave the council? Move back out into the wilderness? Live off of the land while Wistvale is slowly corrupted? Come now, Grayell, there are few people whom are honorable in any position of power."
I know. And that perhaps is why it's wisest if I leave.
He contemplated her words for a time, playing with oozing mud in his hands. He was smiling slightly though and looked to her before he spoke.
This world has larger problems than Wistvale. I won't be leaving it to Marg, her utopian ideals are just... well not very wise. No, I will make sure Wistvale isn't a pox like every other city. But I need to do more about the world around us.
"You're going to try changing the world? Well, I suppose it's good to aim high... but don't discourage dear Margrett: She may be the only thing that keeps me from succeeding. Nonetheless, don't be surprised if you find yourself shedding more blood than you wished in your quest to... cure the disease upon this land. After all, the only reason you have happy endings in your stories is because what happens after 'the end' is never told."
You've got me wrong Cel. I don't want to change it. I want to correct it, maintain it. That is why I'm driven to curb Marg's ambition, just make sure she doesn't build some crap filled empire thay pollutes the people and land.
And I don't need a song or a sonnet. I just need to honor my family, my legacy and mother nature herself. It's pretty simple stuff really.
All things in their place Cel. If I were some do gooder paladin type, you and I would never have been friends. And I'm sorry to say it honey, but the Mikael Utopian model... well it just doesn't have a place for you to fit in. Or me. Not as we are.
Cel gave a smug grin to Grayell. He was preaching again, and to her of all people.
"Grayell, those like me will never fit in. Even when they rule the world, they will be outsiders. Regardless of what Margrett does, she would pave the way for a newer, better, more advanced civilization. All she must do is foster and create a metropolis of Wistvale, then her part in the grand scheme of things is complete... so unless you have a better candidate for such a result, she has my support. My place in the equation is non-existent until then, I will be a means for her ends, because they align with my... more discreet objectives."
"...but you, correcting the world? Who are you to say what is wrong and right? Is it not nature's way to have the strongest survive? To have the most cunning at the top of the food chain? Perhaps the rulers of corrupt civilizations are unjust compared to the righteous of others, but if their nations are growing upon the backs of the peasantry, then they are merely exercising natural selection. If their actions lead to their being deposed, or the fall of their own civilization, then they were not as strong. If you protect the weak, you go against the laws of nature by acting on behalf of the weaker species... does a lion go about protecting mice, Grayell?"
You're operating under the impression that the natural order of things cannot be shifted through the meddling of mice and men. Someone needs to correct such imbalance.
Your own chaos theory is closer to my own beliefs than you know Cel, if not a little jaded. But don't perceive me as law and order, I am not so easily defined.
Celephai shrugged and stood up casually, seemingly without care for her own nakedness.
"Perhaps we are quite similar in some ways, Grayell... but our goals are-"
She stopped as an errant thought crossed her mind: A solution previously unseen.
"-well, our goals are different, but perhaps the results of such goals. You may not be a paragon of law and order, but compared to my vision of chaos, you err to ideals not unlike those paladins you speak of... It's a relative thing, but we all adhere to set patterns of behavior and reflexes. Those whom can act outside of them are truly chaotic, until they fall into their own patterns of unpredictability..."
She mused for a second on this thought.
"...Is it possible to predict a person to be unpredictable, and predict their behavior as such? Interesting, but I'll leave on that thought. Don't be afraid to change your methods, Grayell. Victory goes to those who adapt."
Celephai stopped, mid-turn. Now she was in her element.
"Grayell, the meager fumbling of your performers, which you may know as 'dancing' to you, is nothing more than a series of orchestrated, over-practiced movements which have long become stale and predictable. The audience all too often knows what comes next in the performance, and is only awed by the execution of it. Sure, there is some note of excellence in their individual flourishes and minute subtleties of the individual actor, but the true dance, the truest performer is not playing the part of another... but instead, through their own creative motion, stirs emotions from their audience and incites awe for their creativity and audacity in unpredictability. Chaos is the dance. It is the art of motion, and it's creation. Stillness and immovability is order, but chaos is fluid motion and endlessly turning upon itself. It is creation of the new, and the evolution of the old..."
She turned glossy-eyed for a moment, before a hint of extra moisture found it's way into her eyes.
"...but only some can achieve this. Grayell, do not pursue this subject further, if this is the metaphor you wish to make. I hold few things as dearly as the dance, but that is the ONE THING I shall not abide the perversion of... but if you make reference to the pithy mortal dances that have been redone countless times, then I shall not harbor any ill will toward you."
"If the difference between order and chaos is goals, then I think ALL things are ordered. What separates them is the intent of the goal. Let me ask you this: Does fire wish to burn? Does it desire to turn all to cinder? No, it merely goes along any surface it can find, purifying all in it's path, growing and seething until it finally exhausts itself. The same can be said for most men: They do not choose to live, they do not... often choose to die."
"As for me, perhaps I do dance for a purpose. Perhaps I make contracts and deals and pacts... but for what purpose only I am privy to... reason, logic, and desire are all fickle things in the larger picture, when all that lights in the sky burn out and all that is left is nebulous, turbulent chaos. Perhaps there will still be entities about to control the flow of it, but it was once said that chaos is merely a less predictable form of order... and vice-versa. In conclusion, I would say that relative to your position, perhaps I defy chaos. From my position, perhaps you impose order."
Grayell only shrugged, but her moving away indicated he might just be pushing her faith a little. Good.
So... ultimately you wish to bring chaos to this world. You have a plan to do it. A series of timed events or even impulsive reactions with the purpose of that one goal. What I am getting at... is you are using order, following a predetermined path to achieve chaos.
That sounds somewhat.... well. It's just a little shallow perhaps. Who am I to judge?
But... perhaps the ends justifies the means and after all, you cannot have chaos with order. It simply wouldn't be one without the other, there would only be what was.
Grayell got up and shook off some.
Ah well, we are what we are made to be. None of us can change that of course, least of all me I suppose. Isn't that correct? Victims of our design? Fated?
Celephai cleaned herself off with her cloak, and then proceeded to turn it inside-out and wear it.
"Grayell, if we're bound by fate, then how did you free yourself from yours?"
She didn't actually know what Grayell had done in his absence, but little whisperers in darkness do so love to give tiny hints.
"We are not bound by any fate save for what we make for ourselves... If we wish to be enslaved, we shall be. If we wish to fight for our freedoms, we may pursue that dream. Whether or not we accomplish what we set out to do is not important. Nay, we must fight for what we wish to become, lest stagnation destroy all that the species has become. After all, Archon Korindrial started as a lowly slave, and through cunning and subversion, became the ruler of a massive empire... even if he did have to drop a sun onto one of his cities to do it."
Oh I didn't say I believed in fate Cel. I merely suggested you are using order. You are using creation in order to see to chaos. Now if that's your fate well that would be one thing. But I don't believe it is.
No. I believe you faith isn't nearly so simply as you imagine. Perhaps Cel... just maybe... you aren't looking at the bigger picture.
That's all.
He shrugged and smiled, she had a neat way of avoiding counterpoints she didn't like to address. He imagined her response would do just that... but there was little point in debating. He wasn't convinced Cel would see her destiny she was so set on. He didn't know what might come of her... but he did hope she would learn instead. Grow. As she'd done with him.