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 Posted: Sun Jul 20, 2014 8:48 am
I N T R O D U C T I O N x S O L O
Loss Thin, flimsy, serrated leaves. If he just barely dusted the delicate pads of his fingertips over the top, he could feel the tiny pinpricks of invisible nettles opposing him. He crouched on the forest floor, attention rapt on the foliage as if he stared at it long enough, it would reveal all its secrets. Perhaps this was the plant he'd read about? The book put a rather heavy emphasis on color, which was something he was forced to do without, leaving Natzathil to scrounge about with his other senses. Everything else about the leaves seemed to fit the bill, so all he had to do now was give it a taste...
He'd only barely put the leaf against his tongue when fingers clasped about his wrist, yanking the limb away from his lips and the frond with it. "Don't put that in your mouth! It could be poison," came the high-pitched concern of a familiar female voice.
Nat groaned in annoyance. "Aeris," he muttered out. There to ruin his fun, like always. The girl was twenty minutes younger than him and had this horrible knack for knowing exactly what he was thinking at all times. Natzathil rested an elbow on his knee and leaned his cheek against his fist. "I hope it is," he informed her matter-of-factly. "That means I can stop this ridiculous search and go back to actually shooting. A poison-tipped arrow won't do me any good unless I can actually hit something with it." He paused to tip his head back at her, a playful grin spreading across his face. "Of course, if it is the plant I'm looking for, I'll only have forty minutes to get it out of my system. Give or take half an hour or so..."
Aeris's brows shot up and her mouth popped open in horror. Nat was pretty sure he looked exactly like that when his sister had very politely informed him that she would, in fact, not be joining him on his adventures. He didn't know why it had shocked and mortified him so much. They were two different people; they could take their own paths. Even so, he'd always assumed she'd be there, hovering over him and admonishing every decision he made. That was how Nat liked it.
Aeris whirled away from him, her ruffled skirt spinning out in a flurry as she indignantly turned her nose up at the very thought that her older brother would deliberately try and poison himself. "I'm telling mother," she huffed, then trounced away through the trees.
"Fine," Natzathil snapped after her retreating figure. Why should he care? In her absence, he would be free to go about his business without his harping sister interfering in his affairs. He picked up the stem of a leaf and twirled it in his fingers. On the other hand, he could easily see his mother blossoming into hysteria if he wasn't there to defend himself. Aeris would get in trouble for leaving him alone under these questionable circumstances... Nat ran his hands down his face with a muttered curse. "Wait for me," he demanded in a shout as he rose to his feet and bolted after her.
Ah, Aeris was just lucky he didn't want to see her in the way of their hysterical mother. It was just as easy for him to stay outside and ignore them all day, until the worst of the emotional torrent was over. Instead, he was running off to save his baby sister from a fate she was bringing upon herself.
There was something just not quite right about that.
He made it to the house without incident. The instant he pushed open the door, he was besieged by an eerie silence. No tattletale sisters or fearful mothers, no dad trying to calm the two hormonal women down. Just silence. "Ma," Nat called out hesitantly as he slipped off his shoes. He didn't receive an answer. Slowly, he shut and locked the door behind himself. He'd heard the news about some Orderite creation going wild and attacking boats and cities, but their family was far enough removed from the most common sites for Mara that they had nothing to worry about. At least, that's what Dad said.
Nat padded quietly down the hallway, trying to stamp away the feeling of dread. "It isn't funny, Aeris," he hissed as he shoved open the door to the girl's room only to reveal nothing. Nothing but her tidy bookshelf, her made-up bed with a little baowi plush perched on the pillow, and her desk sitting right beneath the window. Beyond that, past the glass, there was movement. Something in his yard.
At first, he could've mistaken the hulking figure for his father with a sack of potatoes thrown over his shoulder. But that was wrong. It had to be. Dad was neither that large, nor made of stone, nor had any reason to be meandering out in the yard while carrying dinner. Nat moved to the window. Every step he took had another knot tightening in his chest until he was standing right before it and staring out at what he knew was his sister's limp frame tossed across a rocky shoulder.
For a moment, everything was still. Those creatures, they were in the house or at very least, nearby. He hadn't heard any screams or struggles. Aeris hadn't been that far ahead of him. If she was attacked head-on, he would've heard it. Where were his parents? Tossed over another Mara shoulder and being carted away as well? She could be alive. He couldn't discern any blood. Maybe she'd just been knocked out.
Shoot it.
He could shoot it before it escaped.
Natzathil scrambled from the room. His sensibilities urged him to keep quiet in case there were others nearby. He slipped to the cabinet that held his father's bow. Whether he was relieved or disgruntled to see it still neatly in place and perfectly unused, he wasn't sure. The boy scuttled back to the room, doing his best to string the weapon efficiently, as he'd been taught, even though his heart hammered in terror. It was one thing that he couldn't find his mother or father. Perhaps they were desperately out looking for their children, but otherwise completely unharmed. Aeris wasn't. Aeris was being taken away.
Rather than head back to his sister's room, he made his way to the back porch. The door rattled open and he rushed outside. If the creature noticed the commotion, it didn't care, or just didn't stop. Nat took a breath, raising and drawing the bow and aiming it at the lumbering piece of stone as it slowly headed back into the trees. He could probably get one shot. Two if he was lucky. The taught string grazed against his cheek. He just had to let it go. It was hardly even a flick of his fingers.
Later, he'd tell himself he didn't shoot because he wasn't properly trained. He could've hit Aeris and caused her more pain than she could've bared. In his heart, he knew otherwise. Any shot he'd made would've attracted that cretin's attention. Then what would he have done? Shot at it in the hopes that somewhere in that solid body, he could actually hit something vital? It seemed unlikely. If he'd shot, he'd just have become a target himself. Instead, he watched it walk away. He watched it leave with his sister.x
x
Results: Aeris is taken by the Mara.
Words: 1242
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Posted: Tue Jul 29, 2014 9:28 am
W E A P O N x C H O O S I N G x S O L O
Wisdom Even the sky was sad. The air was thick and murky with dark feelings. Heavy drops of rain cascaded down in what seemed like a never-ending downpour. Natzathil sat on the steps of his grandfather's porch, arm extended to catch the cool droplets against his palm.
He hadn't known where else to go or what else to do. He wasn't brave or powerful enough to chase the Mara on his own. Instead, he'd turned to his grandfather. The man was an old soldier that lived by himself in a secluded home not four miles away from where Nat's family lived. Four miles had never seemed so long in his entire life. Every step Nat took was full of fear, anxiety, helplessness. He wanted to go slow, to keep from drawing attention to himself, but the slower he went, the farther away the Mara trudged and the less chance Granda had of finding them and saving Aeris.
In the end, it was all for nothing. Unsurprisingly, the search yielded no traces of Natzathil's quirky twin sister, not even tracks to follow, since the strange creatures floated with magic. They'd returned to Granda's home empty-handed, exhausted, and depressed.
The screen door creaked open behind him, and the old man thumped out to take up a post on the stair next to Nat. "Don't be so hard on yourself," he croaked out as he offered a mug of some steaming liquid to his grandson. The words alone sent a frenzy of anger and frustration coiling up through his stomach. It was only by sheer force of will that the young male kept from knocking the mug from the old man's hand and shattering it on the ground.
"I did nothing," Nat whispered, his teeth locking around his bottom lip as soon as the words were uttered.
Silence stretched between them again. It lasted long enough that the irritation and annoyance Natzathil felt at his grandfather for saying anything that even remotely resembled 'it wasn't your fault' ebbed back down to a dull ache. As his anger depleted, he let out a sharp exhale. It felt like he'd been holding his breath. His chest was so tight, every muscle in his body felt stiff, and his mind was just white, white with nothingness.
"I watched your grandmother die." Nat twitched. He easily could've forgotten his grandfather's existence amidst the silence.
He kept his attention pointedly on the trees beyond where he sat. "She was ill. There was nothing you could've done," he countered. The situations weren't similar at all. That the old man even thought to compare Meem's death to Aeris's...
Granda's hand landed on Nat's shoulder, giving it a firm clasp of reassurance. "Only because I didn't know how to cure her." When the young man snorted, Granda continued, "It isn't so different. I didn't know enough about medicine to cure my wife, and you didn't know enough about combat to save your sister." Natzathil stiffened under his touch, whirling to bare his teeth at the older male. He opened his mouth to snap, but was silenced by a soothing, "Shh, Nat. It is too late to change the past. We couldn't save Aeris, and for that, I am sorry. But look to the future. You are still very young. You have time to learn many things."
From his other side, Granda procured the familiar bow. Nat's attention flicked to it as the weapon was laid across his lap. It was unstrung, crafted from smooth dark wood, given some sort of magical polish to keep the wood from crumbling. There was no nonsense about it, no extra flair for visual effect, no superfluous carvings. It was just a bow, but it was a bow that had served his father well, up until very recently, anyway. "You have time to protect many people, if you should just choose to learn how," the old man rumbled. With his wisdom imparted, Granda rose shakily to his feet. "Just add that to your thoughts for now." He turned and hobbled inside, leaving Natzathil alone with his racing emotions, rampant thoughts, and, of course, the bow.
Nat turned it over in his hands, feeling its curves against his rain-slicked palms. He'd had practice with it, though it was nothing serious. He'd almost always had his father behind him to help him with the simple task of merely pulling the string back. It was a wonder he'd been able to do it on his own while watching Aeris be taken from him. He'd attribute it to adrenaline for now.
Natzathil had never given much thought to becoming a warrior. The battlefield hardly seemed an appropriate place for someone who preferred to dabble in something as slow-acting as poison. Poison would not kill the Mara, nor would it help him if he was stuck in another situation like the one he'd just endured. Sometimes the gratification needed to be instant, and when it did, he'd be ready. He'd have a weapon that he knew how to use, his father's bow. Granda was right. Life was too short to watch it be squashed before his eyes, especially if it was the life of someone close to him.
He wouldn't tolerate it again, ever.x
x
Results: Nat chooses the bow and arrow as his weapon.
Words: 872
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Posted: Thu Aug 07, 2014 11:50 am
D E V E L O P M E N T A L x S O L O
Acceptance The weeks trickled by. All the while, Natzathil clung with desperate abandon to the notion that his sister was alive. He held onto the belief that the next morning (every morning), his lashes would flutter open and he'd rise to see her standing in his bedroom doorway. She'd grin, tip her head, and chirp out something like, "Fooled ya," or "You're so easy, Natzathil," before skipping off to eat breakfast with everyone else. Except she never stood in his doorway. He never heard her chipper voice. There was nothing but silence and loneliness, things he wasn't ready for.
As time dragged on, Nat lost hope. He stopped picturing her cheery face and was instead plagued by visions of her rage and desperation. How dare he let her go? She could have been alive while she was being taken, but for every day that passed, it seemed less likely that she could still be clinging to life. In his mind, she stopped laughing at him. Her grin twisted into a sneer, a grimace, a scowl, anything that would display her hatred for him and how weak he was. 'Your fault,' The shadows whispered. 'Your fault that Aeris lost her dreams and her ambitions. Your fault that this wretched world lost her.'
Granda promised 'it would get easier,' but it didn't. Nat had never been without his sister. They'd lived together, played together, bathed together. Even in his mother's womb, they'd been together. Now because of him, she was gone. It might as well have been Natzathil's own hand that ended her, for all the difference it made to him.
After only a bit of resistance, Granda finally managed to get him to take up some form of menial labor to help replace the negative thoughts with something more productive. Nat possessed no motivation to move, let alone work, but his grandfather managed to entice him into activity by showing him how to craft his own arrows and setting up targets for the young Oblivionite to shoot at.
He stood outside, bow drawn, arrow notched, string pulled back against his cheek, and he stared. His focus wandered off and past the targets laid out for him. Perhaps he'd wanted to hit them at one point, but sometime between tugging his string back and getting his bearings, he'd lost the motivation.
"You're holding," Granda rumbled from off to the side. Nat didn't move or show any indication that he'd head. "Nat, you're holding. Natzathil!"
The arrow loosed, snapping off and into the bushes somewhere that was a painfully far distance from any of the targets. Nat rolled his shoulders. His bow-arm dropped to his side as the other raised to rub at his lids. Something was wrong. He couldn't do this. He couldn't even shoot straight. "I have to lie down," he muttered before shoving the bow and quiver at his grandfather and retreating back to the house. Never mind that he was only out here to give himself something to do besides laying down.
The older Oblivionite frowned as the weapon was thrust into his possession. Before Nat had a chance to escape, he snagged the boy's thin wrist in a firm grasp. "She wouldn't want this for you." After shooting his grandson a meaningful look, Nat was released and free to scramble back to his room.
The young Oblivionite shook his head and rubbed his temples. How could Aeris not want him miserable for his crimes? If he'd been in her place, he'd want her to suffer for getting him killed.
Nat's brow furrowed and he chewed his lip. Except no, he wouldn't, and Aeris had always been far more forgiving than him. If her desires were taken into account, she wouldn't want this hurting him at all. If she was still alive, she'd want to be found and saved, but if she truly was gone from this world, then she'd only be disappointed. Her dreams had died with her. She wouldn't be able to see the world, to make the world see her. If Aeris was dead, then she ceased to exist. An Oblivionite's death was not the same as any other race's. She would not look down on him and tut for his mistakes. She would not hope things turned around for him. She was gone.
Nat wasn't. He rolled onto his stomach, folding his arms and resting his face against them. "I'm sorry," Nat hummed into the crook of his elbow. "I am so, so sorry. For you, anything you wanted, I will achieve. I cannot bring you back, but I can still fulfill your destiny. I can still keep you alive."x
x
Results: Nat takes on Aeris's persona.
Words: 774
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Posted: Mon Aug 11, 2014 12:00 pm
H U N T x R E F L E C T I O NStrike I don't personally have any problem with butchering farm animals. Their purpose is to be eaten, after all. They aren't pets. Even so, it seemed almost wrong to shoot one right between the eyes when it suspected nothing. I can get over that, though. What hurts the most is knowing that I did something that would've upset her. Aeris valued all things, even the fluttering nuisances that are dunkel. She wasn't a vegetarian, so she would've eaten the meat, but she could never bring herself to kill anything. If she were around, I would've shot them just to spite her. Aeris would scream and probably slap me, but it would be worth it.
Without her watching, though, it feels wrong. Even if I kill to protect someone weaker, shooting things that don't hold any ill will toward me isn't right. This, too, is something I'll have to get over. I imagine I won't be eating the predators that stalk me in Eowyn, and I'll be on my own at that time. To avenge Aeris, I can do what needs to be done.
She'll always be there pleading for me not to, but until the mara are gone, I can't be free to live her life. I can't be free to do the things that would make her happy. So for now, I'll crush my doubt and adopt the way of the mercenary Soudana wants me to be. Anything that tries to stop me is a target.Results: +36 EXP, +3 LUK, +1 Dunkel Wing
Word Count: 1609
JR Word Count: 246
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Posted: Mon Aug 11, 2014 1:29 pm
P R P x R E F L E C T I O NIntel NAT'S THOUGHTS.Results: Met Skorga.
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JR Word Count: ???
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Posted: Mon Aug 11, 2014 2:06 pm
P R P x R E F L E C T I O NStudy NAT'S THOUGHTS.Results: Met Minerva.
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JR Word Count: ???
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