Ciel of the Light
Introduction
Ciel of the Light
Ciel of the Light
Ciel of the Light
Ciel of the Light
Ciel of the Light
Ciel of the Light
It seemed that the world was over before it began. The western country of Grandor paid a heavy price for the war against her neighbor. Even years after the deathly battles on their own soil, the people of Grandor were ready to be done with this place. Parties upon parties assembled in the southern cities and towns. Even now, the anticipation and fear in Dovernesse hung thickly in the air. This could be cut with neither magic nor blade. It seemed the days of comfort were long since over.
Buildings were emptied of their provisions in these final days before the Great Journeys. Ghost towns were left behind as their people traveled westward to meet with the others who would make the trek across the untamed land. These parties consisted of the able bodied men needed for the travels, but also the women and children and aged and poor. Naturally, Grandorians were sickly people. Famine had long since wracked against their hopes for survival. It seemed that some agreed to make this dangerous trip now solely for the fact that there was nowhere else to go. Horses led wagons across the dirt roads and their people followed, often stepping over the dead that littered the streets—most of the fallen were those who could not escape the grasps of hunger in time.The parties lined the gates of Dovernesse now as they awaited the rise of the sun. It was not yet dawn and they could not open the cage-like gates to venture out until the sun was fully risen. To do anything otherwise would be against the long held tradition, or rather regulation, of the once great city.
A silence seemed to wallow over the slowly growing crowd. The soon-to-be travelers studied each other with mistrust, covering their food and provisions with cloths and other such things to shield them from greedy eyes. It was a simple fact that lingered over all their minds: There wasn’t enough food to feed them all. Indeed, there would be theft. Every person in the darkness of Dovernesse expected the felons to come in this night. Men awaited these thieves with drawn swords and intensity that could snap bowstrings. Their females huddled in silent groups behind and stared warily at the crowds or into nothing.
Jeysa Wellewen was one such female. Unlike the others whose hearts seemed to be left at their homes, she stood tall and proud. Her fiery mane billowed about her body as the wind blew. It seemed that her aura repelled the women around her, as they stood around her in an uncertain circle. They did not meet her eyes, though she did not seek to meet theirs either. Instead, she stared past their heads—though she was rather small for an Elvish woman—and thought of nothing but the gates to be opened. Above everything, she sought escape. Upon their opening escape would be hers. Perhaps she would be a new woman altogether. Where others frowned, she smiled. She did not shiver, though the wind was laced with autumn’s chill, but rather let her arms hang gracefully at her sides. A gown as green as her eyes circled and waved about her feet. The woman’s arms were bare, and all could see just how sickly the woman was. Certainly, she was beautiful—the Elvish usually are. But the dark bags under her eyes seemed to stifle this beauty. Her bare arms were skinny, naught but worn muscle and bone. The body hiding underneath the slightly worn dress was just as boney and unhealthy. In this way, she was the same as the others. All were touched by the fingers of famine.
As the sun’s rays began to peek up past the horizon, a loud boom echoed at the center of all the crowd at Dovernesse. Jeysa’s eyes went wide, and as the taller women ahead of her began to squirm and the men moved steps forward with their blades drawn and ready, she moved to push past them so she could see. As she approached the largest of the men toward her group, she peered past him to see a scuffle erupting. The parties quickly moved to avoid the conflict and in only seconds, somewhat of an arena materialized. Silence no longer reigned. Women screamed and men shouted, serving to urge on the tussle. Three men rolled on the ground. Fists were thrown. Boots met flesh and all grunted and cried out as they fought. No one seemed to know why it had started at all, but as blood began to paint the dusty ground red more men piled into the makeshift arena to even odds and make them uneven. Soon, Jeysa could count at least twenty men fighting against one another. The ruckus amongst the audience escalated as swords were drawn. Even Jeysa’s voice cooed out as she watched a man impaled and thrown to the unforgiving ground. More and more people pushed forward, seeking to join in the conflict and end it. The scene was surreal as a massacre commenced. The bloody sun rose on the first day of the Great Journeys. The sky was crimson and orange and blue. A red light seemed to set the world afire as the men fought for meaninglessness and power. In horror, Jeysa watched, her eyes wide and sad and full of anger.
Another boom raged and the audience watched as three bodies were flung into the air. It seemed as if the wind carried them, though their limbs were flung unnaturally about their bodies. They fell into the massive crowd of fighters. “Magic!” Jeysa breathed, her voice filled with both fear and excitement. Only twice before had she seen magic users in action.
Another boom and the earth beneath their feet shook. People screamed and panicked. Horses kicked their feet and struggled against their bonds. Women and children cried. Men either fought or stood not knowing what to do in the face of something so surreal.
People killed other people. Swords slashed through flesh and magic burned and mangled bodies. While many of her party struggled to run away, Jeysa Wellewen stood where she was, watching with fascination and disgust.
~~~
Then my heart it grew ashen and sober
As the leaves that were crisped and sere-
As the leaves that were withering and sere-
And I cried- "It was surely October
On this very night of last year
That I journeyed- I journeyed down here-
That I brought a dread burden down here-
On this night of all nights in the year,
Ah, what demon has tempted me here?
As the leaves that were crisped and sere-
As the leaves that were withering and sere-
And I cried- "It was surely October
On this very night of last year
That I journeyed- I journeyed down here-
That I brought a dread burden down here-
On this night of all nights in the year,
Ah, what demon has tempted me here?
turn right
Loiterer
ℳ𝔞𝔵𝔦𝔪𝔲𝔰
тнє dєтєямιиєd ωяιтєя
- xxx"-- it was as if the entire city was camped out before the western gates. Dusty, well-worn travelers stood alongside the citizens of Dovernesse and all trembled with anticipation. For a moment, regardless of birthplace, creed, or sex, their hearts were one as the great, governing giant in the sky began her ascent, orange flames dancing across the --"
xxx"Oh, that's not going to work!" Maximus moaned as he rubbed the back of his neck for the third time since he'd joined a party at the gates. It was stuffy, crowded, and he was more than a little uncomfortable with the lack of breathing room. Despite the ill-tempered pack mule at his side that continued to n** at anyone who dared to enter her space, she did not bestow upon him the same comforts. Even the others in his group -- large, burly men and equally dangerous-looking women -- gave him little more than pitying and irritated glances to make sure he hadn't tucked-tail and run off with anyone else. If there was to be a story written about the journey, it was going to be theirs and theirs alo--
xxx"AY!" The surprised shout rang out, and a tall, bald, brooding man turned a fiery gaze on Max. Nan nickered and hawwed quietly, as if laughing at the injured man, who touched his rear tenderly where she bit him. Max stammered up at the man, who towered almost a full head above him, paling slightly. Decked out in thick leathers and sporting a few scars, his obvious warrior attire contrasted greatly to Max's dusty linen clothes -- frayed and patchy, and suddenly uncomfortably warm.
xxxHe regarded the cowering writer for a few moments, and glared at Nan, before muttering scathingly, "Keep your beast in line, boy." Maximus bobbed his head, and tugged on the reins, pulling Nan closer. She turned a baleful eye on her keeper, nickered, and nipped at the glowering man's rear end again. Another cry tore out in the crowd, and instead of more angry words, a great fist was aimed at the poor man's face. Unthinking, Max ducked aside, and the punch went wild. Instead of colliding with Maximus' delicate nose, it hit the wayward soul almost directly behind him, a loud SMACK punctuating the air. The stunned victim recovered quicker than the equally surprised assaulter, and a fight quickly escalated, dragging in one of the innocent's friends.
xxxIt should be noted that while the fight was brewing amongst the crowd, Maximus began to duck, squirm, and push his way through the crowd away from the fight. He was doing quite well, despite the surging, blood-thirsty crowd, until the people behind him parted as an impaled man was thrown into the lusted ranks. The body landed a few feet behind him, and a great itch settled upon the back of his neck. Daring a look back, he spied the tall warrior, fiery gaze locked onto his own terrified, blue eyes. He was sporting several nicks and cuts, and his sword was drawn and bloody. "THERE HE IS!" he bellowed, tip of his sword pointing directly at Maximus.
xxxThen a great boom rang out. He both felt and heard it, and suddenly the warrior, as well as two others, were tossed up into the air, all three landing back into the mass of angry blood-streaked horror. Maximus gaped, and when the ground began to tremble, following another loud boom, the crowd panicked.
xxxEven with people swarming about him, shoving both he and Nan, Max could feel a dark, seething gaze boring a hole in his back.
"There is a story here. I can feel it in my bones."
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xxxxxxJoey Insanity
Orion Willowsong
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xxx"For the las' time, we 'ave no more room for anothe' sword," argued the large man as he stared down into the eyes of the smaller person, the vein in his forehead bulging and the cords in his neck straining against his skin as his face turned a bloody red in anger. The man was easy to anger, and the smaller person seemed to know just what buttons to push. The biggest problem with this picture, however, was the fact that the questionably smaller person was so calm and relaxed. Sure, there may have been many things in this world that were far more terrifying than a single large man, but the fact was that this large man also ran about with a very large double-bladed axe upon his back. The smaller person only carried an unstrung bow within his quiver of arrows, a small dagger, and a single-edged sword that curved ever so slightly. The sword could have been the dagger compared to the man's axe.
xxx"And as I stated before, I'm more than just a sword, I can help you through the wilds, as well as show which plants are safe. Not only that, but I'm sure my sword could best your axe any day," the person said. The persons voice held an odd accent, not to thick as to not understand them but it was different. The voice also indicated he was a male, this, other than the lack of a few female anatomical parts, being the only thing that had shown he was, in fact, a 'he'. The small man had very feminine features, his face was smooth, lacking even a shadow of a beard, and his hair was slightly longer than that of most men. Give him a slim, yet athletic, build and he could be easily mistaken for a female when he was quiet. This, of course, was natural for most elven men. We have digressed, however, and back to the story we must go.
xxxThe large man's facial color only darkened now, deepening from a bloody red to a deep purple, which only accented his bulging neck muscles. The man's right fist bulged into a fist, the left hand only moving to the handle on his back. The elven male only smiled, not even taking the half-second it would require him to place his hand on the hilt of his sword. To him, the effort wasn't needed. In fact, just the thought of fighting this large man bored him more than anything. It was only at the moment before the man began to raise his axe that the shouting began, the shouting that was only followed by the braying of a donkey and what could only be described as a 'boom'. The man stopped his progression of lifting his axe, his face slowly losing it's color as he muttered something along the lines of "elven b*****d not worth my time," when in all reality the 'elven b*****d' knew that he just wanted to take his anger out on more than just him, and would, instead, use the mob of people as his anger management. The elf felt sorry for the man.
xxx"Well, in case your so-called "sword" doesn't come back, remember the name Orion Willowsong," the elf said to the rest of the group before they ran off to the scrap as well. Orion, on the other hand, walked toward the crowd instead of the fight, more interested in the actual people than the thought of a fight. He had only irritated the large man so that he may try and take his spot. It may have been a dirty thing to do, but that seemed to be how business was run in the land of people. Then again the same could be said about his own forest. With that thought he just shrugged and walked along the edges of the crowd, silently singing an old song underneath his breath that spoke of adventure.
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I am just a sword that forever wanders the dark. I seek adventure, I search for glory, I pray for peace. Ata o día que eu descanse en paz, amén.
DieKraft Fe-Amon
Romantic Grabber
10,575 Points
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300
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150
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100
Ciel of the Light
Playing the role of the silent watcher as people squirmed and ran around her, Jeysa stared at the massive mob in the middle of the large crowd. It seemed it was growing by the second, and so many people were dying… That tension that had reigned over Dovernesse had finally snapped, and its consequences were lying red all over the ground. It was a whirl of images shoved together to Jeysa. She watched the fighting happen, though all the men’s faces were twisted with the same kinds of anger and pain. They were all the same men, killing one another for no reason other than their obligations to fight. Death would overtake this place, and those that were staying behind in Dovernesse would be the ones to clean it up.
It seemed a great sigh of relief escaped the crowd when the loud creak of the gates signaled their opening. They slowly slid open as the sun stared down at the fighters, and seemingly all in one motion, parties began to push through the gates like the strong push and pull of ocean waters. All was chaos. People fell and were trampled, others pushed hard against others to make them move faster despite the solid wall of bodies ahead. Jeysa merely stayed behind, her eyes shifting between the fighting that was only now subsiding and the madness at the gates. It seemed there were still few with the common sense to stay behind and wait, rather than risk their lives in wild desperation like animals.Ahead at the pit of mangled bodies and fighters, a man and his mule struggled to get away. Jeysa perked an eyebrow as he repeatedly looked behind him. A man, slightly larger than the retreater, seemed to be on the pursuit. A small pout formed on her face, and quickly her small body weaved through the groups of people to approach the struggling man and his animal. She offered him a hand and gave him little choice but to take it as she grasped his firmly in her own.
“Come,” she said, her eyes glittering. “Before he pummels you.” Jeysa turned quickly to run away with him, however a last glance over her shoulder left her stopping before she began. The man was quite literally charging through the masses and was making great progress through the chaos. She glanced only once down at the man and his mule before standing to approach the oncoming warrior. His nose wrinkled as he grimaced in anger, and for a moment he reached forward to push Jeysa out of his way. However, she stepped forward lightly to wrap her arms around his thick body and she rested her head on his chest. In a matter of seconds he seemed to calm, and soon he rested his chin atop her head and dropped his weapon so he could hold her. She whispered something in his ear and he nodded before he released her, glancing once without emotion at the mule before turning away toward the gates of Dovernesse.
Grinning slyly, she stared down at the man and the animal. “To be the one unshaken by the storm, sturdy and calm as a growing tree, is to have power over the angers in man and beast.” The woman knelt in front of the mule to smile with delight, and immediately she began to coo and held out her hand. “Hello, sweet one.” The fighting was finally over, all but for the last few men who still had blood on their eyes and swords. Surely, she figured, they would realize their mistakes and make their way for the gates as well.
“She is beautiful,” Jeysa said, eying the animal with piqued interest. “I am Jeysa Wellewen, stranger. It seems I am in need of a new company.” She looked behind her where her party had stood. They had all left, rushed for the gates and away from the fighting. “And it seems that you are in need of a protector.” Laughter was laced in her voice. “We can help each other, I think. Perhaps we should assemble others that have remained behind and be off. I’m certain we are seeking the same things, anyway.”
~~~
Then my heart it grew ashen and sober
As the leaves that were crisped and sere-
As the leaves that were withering and sere-
And I cried- "It was surely October
On this very night of last year
That I journeyed- I journeyed down here-
That I brought a dread burden down here-
On this night of all nights in the year,
Ah, what demon has tempted me here?
As the leaves that were crisped and sere-
As the leaves that were withering and sere-
And I cried- "It was surely October
On this very night of last year
That I journeyed- I journeyed down here-
That I brought a dread burden down here-
On this night of all nights in the year,
Ah, what demon has tempted me here?
Joey Insanity
Orion Willowsong
________
xxxThe humming ceased to come forth from his throat as Orion felt eyes watching him. It wasn't uncommon for this to happen, there are some humans who have fascinations with elves, and then there was also the fact that this was a large gathering of people and that he happened to have his sword in the open. Then again, many others did as well. It wasn't as uncommon of a sight to see people carrying weapons in these dark times, so he was left with the itching feeling that someone was following him. He slowed his pace even more to let the human, for he could tell from the way they walked that it was a human, catch up to him. He had been expecting a man, or maybe another sword-for-hire, to be coming up to him to ask for his employ; however, the voice that spoke was definitely female, and one that was just a few years younger than himself. It caught him by surprise, but he stopped all the same, ears perking up as he heard a job offer.
xxxAfter the woman ceased speaking he regarded her for a few seconds. She appeared uncomfortable in such a crowd, her eyes seeming to flit between him and something else every few seconds. He considered his own words silently, not even speaking them aloud as he though them, not wanting to insult anybody who actually had an interest in traveling with him. It wasn't as if he was rude on purpose, but with his different upbringings and his years of solitude he found it difficult to converse with someone without saying something he shouldn't have. It was a good, solid forty-five seconds before he actually replied to her, and in that time the gates had begun opening, and people slowly stopped their fighting and quickly began rushing.
xxx"Guarding I could help with, but training would be a bit of a problem," he said, enunciating each word carefully so that his accent does not interfere with this. "To learn the art of a folla, or 'the blade' as this language allows, is difficult and not something to learn like one would learn their letters or numbers," he told her, speaking the truth. Although his eyes were on her, his mind wandered elsewhere, going to the forests and battlefields where he was forced to use the blade. "It is your choice, though. If you truthfully wish to learn the arts of a folla, then who am I to deny you? It will be hard though, for I wish to travel as soon as time allows, which would mean I would have to teach you on the road," he finished, nervous that he may have said to much. Like earlier stated, he was not used to conversing with people, instead mostly animals who did not talk back, so when he did talk to them he usually said to much. It was this that made it so difficult for him to gain companions.
xxxAs he waited for a reply he watched as more and more people left, his eyes spotting the large man with the axe leaving as well. The man had a scratch down his jaw a red bandage across his arm, indicating a small laceration from a dagger or sword. Inside he chuckled silently, but at the same time he realized that even if the woman still wished to travel with him, the company would be much to small to really make it to the new lands without harm.
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I am just a sword that forever wanders the dark. I seek adventure, I search for glory, I pray for peace. Ata o día que eu descanse en paz, amén.
DieKraft Fe-Amon
Romantic Grabber
10,575 Points
-
300
-
150
-
100
turn right
Loiterer
ℳ𝔞𝔵𝔦𝔪𝔲𝔰
тнє dєтєямιиєd ωяιтєя
- xxxMax was making gaining little ground, despite his efforts to flee. His pursuer's right eye was blossoming into a lovely shiner, thanks to the wild gent Nan decided to pick on. Although it very well wasn't his fault that the man's eye was bruised, the writer could easily see how some blame might be tossed his way. Perhaps it would've been better for everyone had he stopped the assailant's fist with his face. He reflected briefly, pausing in his efforts, though his thoughts were quickly taking a sharp turn to the left as the crowd made for the now-open gates.
xxxSparing a glance behind him, a thrill of self preservation caused him to tremble and pull Nan forward in a sudden burst. (Seeing a one-eyed man with a drawn (possibly bloodied) sword, dead set on hacking one to bits would definitely get one moving. (And if not, Max's mum's cooking would.)) Just as he began to struggle with a very irritated mule, an elfin woman came up beside him and took his hand. Whatever words she spoke were lost on Maximus, startled as he was. Her eyes, though burdened with dark bags, were bright, and her hair was long and very red.
xxxHis surprise quickly turned to astonishment as she let go of his hand (leaving him fumbling with words) and stepped into an embrace with the injured man. What lust had driven him seemed to leave his face, and only a quiet contentment remained. Gaping at the show the woman had graced him, Maximus found words leaving his lips without the slightest thought.
xxx"With but a simple embrace, the beast's rage was stilled by the frail beauty that bound him..."
xxxShaking his head, he quickly found himself again as she approached him for the second time. “To be the one unshaken by the storm, sturdy and calm as a growing tree, is to have power over the angers in man and beast.” With a flash of a smile, and a hint of laughter in her words, Maximus found himself disarmed in her presence. His mouth snapped shut before a string of "ah, um" could escape his lips. However, the man found it difficult to avoid rolling his eyes as the attention shifted to Nan, who nudged the offered hand. “She is beautiful.”
xxxOh, how he wanted to roll his eyes, but he denied himself the pleasure as he visibly relaxed, watching her carefully, grasping her words. "...seems that you are in need of a protector.” Blanching, Maximus could feel an embarassed flush run up his neck, and he pulled at the dusty scarf nervously. "I--I don't need a protector!" He tripped over his words, still recovering from the strange spectacle from before. "I'm part of a group also, and they wouldn't take kindly to me leaving them, so..." Blinking, his blue eyes scanned the remainder of the crowd, those that were moving at a much more sedate pace than their fellows, seeing no one familiar. The slight disappointment (as his previous companions weren't exactly the friendly sort) must have shown on his face.
xxx“We can help each other, I think. Perhaps we should assemble others that have remained behind and be off. I’m certain we are seeking the same things, anyway.”
xxxIt should be said that Maximus was a curious man, and with this strange woman that can calm a near blood-lusted man with a seemingly innocent touch (which his brain had now managed to comprehend), he was almost brimming with it. Chuckling softly, his eyes twinkled. Touching his chest lightly, Maximus spoke in a low voice, "My dear Jeysa Wellewen, I am not here to seek the ancient treasure, nor am I here to conquer the western lands. I am Maximus Claymore, spinster of words, and I'm looking to weave the greatest tale in the world! One of valor and heroism! Of conquest and murder! Betrayal! Love! Heroes!" One hand was raised to the sky, and a crooked grin split his face. He had used the line before, though, this time, it wasn't to a group of very fierce-looking, half-drunk warriors.
xxxA sudden shiver ran up his spine at the words, and he turned a keen eye on the red-haired woman. "And what is it that you seek?"
"There is a story here. I can feel it in my bones."
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