[Edel PRP] - A Broken Man & the Dawn (Endi/Revei/Harmodius)

[Syrie]

He had been distracted since he had last spoken with Creation, since He had agreed to do what He could for the Dreamer's Guide...it wasn't that he had wanted time to lapse between requesting the intervention of the Twin Crown and actually bringing Him to Revei; it had just happened.

In loose, egg-white colored garments and soft, supple sandals the god of Silence went to Creation with Revei held gently to his side. The Dreamer's Guide found it difficult to move but had requested that Endiovar take him to see Harmodius; at the least, Silence could help muffle the sounds that brought Revei such discomfort.

Together, they stood at the threshold of a pale door beautifully wrought by magic and no man's hand to request entrance. He was there...or at least, He had been nowhere else that the blond god had looked before beginning this journey; he did not want to cause any more undue stress to Revei than was absolutely necessary.

[Prolixity]

Revei leaned against Endiovar, nervous and quiet. It was, after all, his own folly that has brought him to this point; much as he wished to be whole again, he wished, too, that is was not necessary. He took a long, soft breath, braced himself, and squared his shoulders; then he leaned forward slightly and tapped on the door.

[Ivynian]

The door opened unattended, moving back for the waiting gods to enter in. The way was obvious. The door led into a hall, plain polished wood of the same sort of the door but uncarved and smooth led back and turned a corner hiding further prediction from their sight. The floor was an inviting plush of a dawn silver that deadened sound naturally and akin as a sheared pelt before a fireplace to bared feet.

Creation waited past a handful of corners, where the strange hall opened out to wider space like a room but without visible walls or decoration except for a victorian fainting couch that he rested a hand on the backing of while he stood and considered some distance out in the empty, unwalled space.



Come. Rest.

[Syrie]

When the door opened without a hand to guide it, the god of Silence was unsurprised. There had been no motion or sound of motion to disturb the still-quiet, no being there to greet either Revei or himself -- but that they were welcome was apparent. Blessedly, it seemed that Creation had set his halls to suit the circumstances: all was set to minimize impact on the 'wounded' Dream.

No words needed between them, Silence and Dream set forward down the bare hall; they would not stop until the reached their destination: the contemplative Lord of All. Endiovar's lips curved into a smile - there was a couch at His hand where Revei would be able to rest as the Eldest had invited them to do, but naught else.

He could appreciate the bare space, waiting to be filled. His own domain was much the same...

[Prolixity]

Nerves and anticipation, awe and fear and love. Revei brushed a soft hand over Endiovar's shoulder and moved forward with him, the quiet and the softness enveloping them. Some of the tension flowed away as he walked, as the room remained clear and unwarped around him.

When they had come near, he carefully disentangled himself and went to one knee, bowing his head to his Lord. His wings spread around him on the floor like a cloak; his hair fell over his face.

[Ivynian]

Creation turned his gaze to Revei, letting his hand down and drift out, palm up, in invitation.
Softly, echoed back around from some unseen edges beyond the long dark, Creation's voice spoke without his tongue,

"Sanctuary and respite lie in the hands of a Father that tends a wounded son. Guide of Closed Eyes, I bid that you trust me and take comfort on this lounge. If Sachem Aphonic would attend you, he may, or he may watch. My wings will lay upon you, and lift up from you the taint of touching the Outer part. "

[Syrie]

Revei bowed to Creation and Endiovar followed suit, though he did not remain so for very long; this was Revei's time and he would be quietly at his side, unobtrusive. Each time Creation 'spoke' without words, the God of Silence felt warmth spread throughout his body that started from the top of his head and flowed downward to the very ends of his toes.

An invitation to participate - in a way - or to remain a bystander; it was an easy choice for Endiovar: he would remain at Revei's side as he lay upon the couch, a mute attendant and worried lover.

[Prolixity]

Voiceless words like cool water on his skin. Revei breathed relief and rose to take a place on the couch, daring to look up at Harmodius; he tried to put everything he felt into a single look, apology and gratitude and all the many things he had never said.

He caught at Endiovar's hand, a little shyly. Affection and care, the blooming of a deeper feeling.

[Ivynian]

The wait was long enough for both of the young gods to get settled. Contained, but debatable in solidity, his wings extended and curled around to shield and cover them both. The touch of the wing surface was cool, spring trickles from a waking mountain stream.

"Some has been eaten, some that cannot be understood has been known and torments, some has been corrupted into strange paths that must be straightened. All must be enforced again to the order of the Being Plane without the Unbeing. This I will give to you, Revei...son of dreams...who, valiant, sought in the unknown what could be found of us."

The cool dipped in, flesh being no barrier to the strange substance, accompanied by sweetness and suffering, relief and agony. Scars opened and scooped out of infection would ache and then feel clean later. Absence could be felt as respite.

It took minutes that stretched to hours or days out of the reckoning of celestial time.

[Syrie]

Once they were settled and surrounded in Creation's embrace, Endiovar closed his eyes and squeezed Revei's hand gently. The long time of waiting was coming to a definitive end within the Eldest's cool, comforting embrace: Revei would be whole again, able to exist without having to be held in a cocoon of Silence. Though he did not mind doing such things for Revei, knowing that the Dreamer's Guide would not require his 'services' made him feel both joy and some small amount of sorrow.

He kept his lips together and refrained from adding anything - spoken or unspoken - and simply let Creation's healing power wash over him; His soothing voice speaking tenderly to Revei and stroking along the God of Silence's being while doing so.

Time stretched and flowed fluidily about the trio of True Gods all but unnoticed; time had no meaning for them - a quick breath, a long sigh - until the healing was done. Only one of the two younger Gods would feel Creation's blessing so acutely, though Endiovar would be able to tell from Revei's body language, from Creation's withdrawl, how effective this encounter had been.

[Prolixity]

The space of one long breath, the space of forever. A sharp and edgeless pain, a lifting and emptying, an outflow of elsewhere. The pain of infection draining from a wound. The pain of waking from a long, drugged, motionless slumber. Relief so acute that it manifested as pain itself.

No different, but that everything changed.

The touch of Creation's wing fluttered through Revei's self, resonating in all the empty spaces that the touch of Void had left. He held Endiovar's hand tightly enough to hurt, enduring the sudden absence of pain.

[Ivynian]

Creation bent, curling down at waist and knee, to bring his lips against the furrowed brow. Words of old were in the kiss, guidance and protection, new growth and regeneration to the True Soul within.

Pulling back briefly, he then kissed over each of Revei's eyes, "My blood to yours, son of minds and wishes, descendant of the line of the Crown reborn. My tears to yours- see not again that which is in the mind beyond the barriers, beyond the weave. Nightmares will not be your torment, nor Knowing your burden. "

It is so done, Endiovar, that he is healed. He will sleep for a small time, dreamless though he IS dream, recovering from this closest touch in the far reaches of his own castles. On the third day, you may wake him with his name, a prince of his heart.

[Syrie]

Whatever pain given to him by the crushing grip Revei had on Endiovar's hand was nothing to the pain he'd felt all on his own at having been party to putting the Dreamer's Guide into his wounded state and he bore it without a wimper.

Creation shifted his position and spoke to Revei first, then the curly-haired god of Silence. The blond opened his eyes and looked to the now-sleeping Dream while his Lord spoke-un-spoke. Gratitude and love touched face and form, speaking clearly his feelings to any that cared to see; with his free hand, he reached out to touch Creation's pale cheek lightly. 'Thank you, my Lord...from the depth of my being.'

He would, after a bit, carry Revei's sleeping form back to Gianfar - to explain and so that they weren't monopolizing Creation's time and attention. As comforting as it was to be with the Eldest, Endiovar didn't feel that it was right to linger in his rooms for too overly long.

[Prolixity]

Deep and quiet, a still dark pool - Dream slept without dreaming, incurled like a larva within a rattling winter pod. His breath came steady and slow. A perpetual furrow between his brows relaxed away. He lay quiet, in the world and entirely out of it.

Gratitude would come later, as would relief, as would love. This was the time for stillness.

Revei slept.

[Syrie]

Revei slept as two devoted attendants kept watch; Gianfar and Endiovar had much time together to talk or rest while waiting for the third day to come around. He had explained very carefully all that Creation had said and both would be there to greet Revei after his slumber.

On the morning of the third day, Endiovar laid out clean clothes and soft toweling as certainly once the slumbering God of Dream awoke he would wish to bathe, if nothing else. Gianfar was not within eye-shot, but he knew quite well that the other god was there, moving about the quiet rooms and no doubt fussing with some of the books from the Great Library. Few had survived at all and those few had been gently transported to his private chambers -- the crumbling pages causing Knowledge much sadness and distress. Only pieces remained and those became dust when touched more than once or twice...it would take a great length of time before the Library was returned to even a shadow of it's former self.