((Gawd, this took me long enough. So to make up for that, you get a monster post. Yeah, I'm jumping on the colored inner voice bandwagon, too.))
A wave of nausea and fear overcame Rukh, and he felt his body tense up, his limbs go rigid, and his mind roil like a stormy ocean from the intense atmosphere in the room. Run from the soldiers, dear, he could hear the words of his mother ringing in his ears, as he remembered the men in blue uniforms who marched through the rugged streets of his home, run from them and hide, away from their guns that kill, their hands that steal, and their eyes that show no life. But no, he could not run this time, not when he was already within their grasp, already in this hellish room - he knew that something had happened here, something evil, unspeakable, and blasphemous; he could not allow this act to go unpunished...but what would he do? Even when the spark of anger ignited into a roaring conflict, even when those on both sides began to take hits, even when Edward fell, he knew, deep down, that violence would solve nothing.
But then what's the point in giving up? They're going to kill each other anyway.
Rukh froze - an impressive feat, considering that he was already standing completely motionlessly - as he heard the new voice ring out, echoing in his head; it was light and graceful, but at the same time imposed authority. It had taken a while for him to get used to this new form, of having a tail and his skin being replaced with scales, and even then it was hardly complete, but he hadn't in the least expected to start hearing random voices speak to him from out of the blue. Unless it was..."Ishbala?" he asked the open air, his voice soft and hushed, barely audible over the din of battle.
...Why yes, I am Ishbala, patron deity of the children of the deserts, and I have come to you in your dark hour.
He abruptly fell to his knees, his robes becoming drenched in the liquid that had spilled from the broken containment tubes, and bowed his head in reverence to the unseen entity. "O, wise Ishbala," he spoke, even lower than before, in the long unheard tongue of the Ishbalans, "I beg of you: end this fighting, and bring peace to us, these wretched souls who have fallen into this terrible twist of fate.
You know I can't do that, Rukh.
It wasn't Rukh that froze this time, it was the whole world; everything felt like it had stopped, to him, because they had all become irrelevant. For who has spent their entire life under the assumption that a god exists, watching over their everyday lives, bringing justice and smiting the wicked, the revelation that maybe, just maybe, all of that had been false was too painful to think of. His eyes opened, now no longer stern, but truly afraid, the pupils shrunken to barely visible dots. "But...but why?"
Because I am not there with you, young one; this is your battle, not mine. Only you can fight for your survival, and for those now close to you. I am here to offer you my support and give you a little push forward, nothing more.
He was silent, uncertain of what to say at this point.
You are correct: there is no beauty in war, in suffering, in death. But choosing to distance yourself from that doesn't stop it from happening anyway; the crimson tide cannot be brought to an end so easily. That does not mean you can fall into despair so easily, however; remember that, as a priest, you are my hands and my eyes. You hold my great strength within you, yet you choose to ignore it, fearing that you might misuse it. But now I ask you - I command you, as your goddess Ishbala - to use my power, and protect the chimeras.
...Yes. Yes, that is what he must do. He was the divine instrument of judgment, as much an emissary of Ishbala's might as those soldiers were for the military, and it was his duty to reinstate order. He would be a disgrace- no, he would be damned if he allowed the pain to continue. At long last Rukh's muscles tensed again, and his eyes regained their angry glare, now with a glimmer of determination amid the dark red.
One spring of his legs was all it took to get back onto his feet and into a sprint, rocketing towards the clashing forces at speeds he hadn't thought possible for him. It was partly due to this velocity and also how he had gone largely unnoticed until now at the back of the room that the soldier he approached was so shocked when he stopped a scant few feet away, his eyes wide and mouth agape. A swift uppercut quickly righted that problem, and Rukh felt his clenched fist drive through the man's jaw, but that left an ample opening for another standing nearby to regain enough of senses to slam the butt of his gun into the chimera's back. Stunned, he doubled over from the force of the blow, but a flick of his tail whipped the long appendage around in a wide arc, slamming into the soldier's legs while he fumbled for the trigger, and he too tumbled to the ground. Rukh winced as he tried to stand up fully; it felt like his left shoulder-blade had broken, and, though he was right-handed, to avoid worsening the damage while moving around would be a great strain. The battle had to end soon, before they all fell.
