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 Posted: Sun Jan 15, 2006 4:23 pm
Someone said that life's just a game. And in the end we all loose. No one gets out alive. Then again, some insist that there's an afterlife that we all flee to in lieu of the failing shells that are left to rot. Is that living in some odd sense?Or are we doomed to drift in obscurity to be forgotten after the shells have turned to dust in the wind. Ashes to ashes and dust to dust and all that. What does it matter how we live? Or how we die?They say life is too short, no matter how long you live. There's always something that you've missed out on and can't go back to do. That's why it hurts so much when someone you care about dies. All the 'what if's come back to slap you in the face. All the things you didn't do. All the things you meant to do. And all the things you wish you got to do with them are null. They no longer matter. You're separated. For good is a matter of religion. Permanently gone from this world? That's for the philosophers to debate.I'll conceed this. I've seen too much, experienced too much, to think there's a finite end or beginning to all this. Whether it's a cycle of souls or a repeating program there's no real point to say 'here's where it all started' or 'there, that's the end.' We are who we choose to be. As fragile as our most crippling moment, as strong as we are when we face down fear and don't run from it. We're of our own making. Religion, up bringing, environment, none of those really matter so much in the long run. You pick how you choose to live. Rely on that, and see where your own path leads. Perhaps take time to look back, mull over past faults and evaluate your life now. History's mistakes are only repeated when we let them.I'm looking back a short path, that connects with a muchly over-grown one from a lifetime before. Reincarnation? Continuation? Doesn't matter. Not really. I have to remember, painful or not, so we don't repeat anything. At least I can keep things from repeating, new mistakes are a given. Mistakes that can be rectified if caught early. I can try. And that loop will wait for a little longer before pulling me back in. Maybe this time, there'll be light.
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Posted: Sat Feb 11, 2006 6:43 pm
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Posted: Sat Feb 11, 2006 7:33 pm
ShadowsLonan Another scream tore from his throat. The last one had been a warning. This purge was far worse. He felt like his bones were on fire, the images he was seeing in him mind's eyes horendous. He'd have nightmares for weeks. Blood trickled from the corners of his eyes and mouth, joining the rivulettes from his scars. Panting for breath he scareamed one last time before th intensity of the pain forced him into unconciousness. Melanctha She had been wandering, flitting from shadow to shadow using her host's seemingly natural ability to do so, not wanting to waste the short bursts of power her divinity allowed her. A beacon sheers into her dual conciousness, filtering out like a spider's legs onto its web even from this distance. Her head turns so quickly that her hair flops into her face, but she doesn't care. She takes off at a run, unsure of how long the stream of emotion will last to guide her, as she dives into what others would view as a solid brick wall. To her, it is merely a gateway to her goal. Lonan The purge was nealy complete, but the young man looked dead. His normally pale skin seemed almost blue tinted in the faint moonlight and blood pooled around him. His hands twitched spasmodically as the last of the images and emotions filtered out of him, leaving him shaken and exhausted on the forrest floor. Melanctha It's actually a really good thing that Lonan is not aware of his surroundings, at least it is for Melanctha. As irony would have it, she slides from the pool of his blood like a demon from the realm of nightmare, her incorporal wings arching over her and him protectively as she resolidifies in a kneeling position. His blood slicks her bare knees and lower legs, but she barely notices it. Her hands reach out to snatch at what shreds remain of what drew her here, gathering the emotion to herself and soaking it in. Only after some of her inner void is filled does she open her eyes to take in the sight of the slumped man and the pool of blood she is knelt in. Lonan Lonan simply lay there, his own wings spread upon the ground, black slick with crimson making the pool of blood seem all the larger. Slowly the scars start to reseal, taking time to do it properly. His body is slightly cool now from skin exposed to the air and how much blood he'd lost in the purge. His chest rose and fell in fast shallow breaths. In his neck his pulse was flickering fast. Melanctha As before when she saw Arrow plunge from the sky, her tendency to be protective of her own combines with Eirnae's nurturing nature, the still mortal Weaver of Shadows shifting in the slick mess of blood to lean down and check the unmoving man's pulse at his throat. Her wings pass through his as if they aren't even there, her free hand stroking down his back towards the tailbone. Lonan The pulse started to calm, weaker but steady. The wounds close slowly and the blood stops flowing. The stains remain, faint trickle trail still on his face from mouth and eyes. The scars over his useless eyes seem to be the slowest to close. Melanctha "Poor thing," Shadow whispers, sliding a remarkably strong arm for its size around Lonan's middle, using her wings to add to her strength to lift his deadweight up as she tries to stand. Lonan The teen was lighter than he looked, completely unaware of what was going on around him. The mop of hair falls damp, dripping it's own crimson for a time. His breathing deepened a bit, more of the shallower scars sealing as he was moved. Melanctha The positioning is odd, with him so limp in her arms despite him being as light as he is, so her aim of getting him into a classic 'damsel in distress' carry is thwarted for a few moments as she figures out just how to manage it. Once she does, it's then a manner of not damaging his wings in the process. She rearranges him in her arms with care for his comfort and hers, then considers where she can take him. The memory of a place she used to frequent, now long forgotten, comes to her and she smiles. She had not visited the shrine since her revival, but it should be abandoned in this century. She starts walking in the hidden pathways of the trees. Lonan The tense, shaking muscles started to loosen as he was carried off. He was ignorant that someone had deened to interfere with the end of a purge, still too caught up in the aftermath of emotions and pain to worry about something as trivial as being held. Melanctha The man in her arms starts to all to be the more akward to hold as he somehow manages to become all the more limp. She had first struggles to keep him from slipping from her hold, then finally stops to press her side up against the trunk of one of the taller trees in the wood. The rowan stretches up high, seeming to touch the sky with its uppermost branches. The tree is ancient, yet in its shadow rests one far older than it, trying to catch her breath from her hurried travel over the last mile. This need to breathe annoys her, a being who never had a use for breath but to use it as a tool to tease. Lonan The scars over his eyes are the last to heal, red tears still trickling from the corners. When she stopped his head rolled back, exposing his throat. The pulse beating was obvious. The adamsapple bobbed as he started to move from sealing the wounds to trying to wake. Melanctha 'Damn..' she curses in her head as she gets a look at his condition, her attention turning to the night sky as it peeks through the thick foilage above. 'Don't want him waking up here. I won't be able to contain him, and he might hurt himself further.' She takes the time to gently roll his head back towards her breastbone, nestling it there as she gathers the shadows to her. There was no choice in the matter. If she was to get to the shrine in time she'd have to tap the trickle of power allowed her. Darkness surrounds the pair and seems to swallow them, taking them the miles that she couldn't run without waking him. That same darkness erupts in a scattering of dust and debris to deposit them at the feet of a worn feminine statue, one of its wings resting on the floor in shattered pieces. Lonan A small cough came when his head was adjusted, red spattering his chest. Still it was easier to breathe this way and waking didn't seem quite as important. He still felt the traces of the purge, muscles aching. Melanctha Weakened by her display of power, she moves to sit down before her old likeness, ignoring the hiss of shards of marble as they scrape across the floor at the touch of her bare feet. Her legs gather up the dust and cobwebs like a magnet does metal, the stuff clumping where Lonan's blood is still drying. She keeps him on her lap with his head sheltered by the curtain of her shoulder length hair. Lonan The teen coughed again, but not red following it this time. A soft groan tumbled from his lips. Breathing deepened and quickened a bit. Brow furrowing something was edging at him to wake. Melanctha She sighs softly, her breath dancing past his left cheek to go on to his forehead, then meet the musty air that surrounds them. She closes her eyes to avoid truly seeing how dismal her shrine has become, her arms tightening around this man she only just found. What a pathetic creature she's become. Nothing but a parasite, sinking into others like a second skin. Now here she was, in a place long forgotten by all but her. She tries to think back, to what this place was like once, but the memory eludes her. Up above, a perfect black marble countenance peers down at the odd pair, as if wondering how this came to be. Lonan Black wings flickered on the floor, kicking up a small cloud of dust. Another small bit of coughing ensued, this one waking the youth as he brought a hand to his mouth to try to curb it, struggling to sit up. Melanctha She lets him go, her arms unfolding relunctantly as she leans her head back, almost wincing at the coolness of the marble on the back of her head. She has had enough of the cold to last her lifetimes, she needs no more. Lonan Falling back he rolled onto his side, wings moving instinctively. After finishing the coughing fit he lay there, panting for breath on the dusty floor. One thing at a time. Breathe first, worry about location later. Melanctha She doesn't look to see what he's doing, her concern for him not strong enough to pierce the memories she's trying to retreive. Hazy images of ceremonies in front of her statue, the sighs of past lovers, the uplifted songs whispered in reverant tones, all have her in their sway. Lonan Finally catching his breath white eyes opened. Hands felt the cool marble under him and his confusion heightened. "Where...?" The alto voice was a bit harsh, husky from coughing and dust. Melanctha "With me," she replies, a disembodied soft voice in the deep shadow of the tiny room. "You are safe. Whatever caused your pain will not find you here." Lonan "Impossible." It was true, should a purge be called for he wasn't spared anywhere. Though the location.... "Who are you?" Melanctha "One who does not wish you harm," she replies, her voice echoing a bit as it travels up the form her followers once used for her worship. "I will return you when you have regained your strength." Lonan "A name. Tell me your name." Getting concerned about a strange woman who refused to give het name while he was in this state he struggled up to hands and knees. He stayed there for a moment, catching his breath before attempting to stand. Melanctha She sighs as she slowly opens her eyes to regard him with an annoyed look on her face. He wasn't about to leave her to her silent contemplations, and like the other, a name seemed to mean so very much to him. What was with mortals these days? There was a time when a favor was enough to sate them, and they demanded nothing of her. Her eyes cloud as she mulls over the fact that such days likely were at an end for her. She shrugs, shoulders sliding against smooth stone. What did it matter? Her name was old, so old she doubted anyone remembered it. Yet the power it holds keeps her from speaking it, its strength some of the last she has come to relie on. "We sit in a place of the ancients, winged one, and yet you demand my name." She pauses before murmuring, "Weaver of Shadows. Call me otherwise if you wish. It matters not." Lonan "Weaver of Shadows? The one of the Olde Texts? I thought you'd faded." There was the barest hint of surprise in his voice, tinged with disbelief. For one such as him "seeing is believing" didn't apply. He turned his sightless gaze where he thought she might be. Melanctha Now it was her turn to be surprised. This one knew of her? She gathers herself up, getting to her feet as bits of marble crackle under her toes. Had he physical sight, despite the gloom, Lonan might have noticed how the statue somewhat resembled the woman standing beneath it. "Aye... I had thought the texts burned and forgotten." She murmurs, reaching out to brush his cheek with soft fingertips. Lonan "Not all of them. A few were in the collection of books I frequent." He was trying to find out where she was. Conecntrating so hard he startled at what should have been an obvious move as the hand touched his face. Melanctha She chuckles softly, his flinch serving to encourage her to bring her hand back to where it had made contact with his skin, her thumb easing down a cheekbone. "What bits have survived the ages, my raven?" Lonan Lonan forced himself to stay still. He didn't know where he was and she had the only means for getting him back without involving quite a bit of risk for him. "A general chart of the Old Pantheon from several cultures and a power structure, listing who had what and was bonded to whom. Some of the old rites were recorded. Not much." Melanctha "This collection of books, where could I find it?" she asks, intriqued by this being's interest in the old times. Memories slither in her head as she steals closer to him, that of the chosen of her flock in her bedchambers. Brief encounters that sustained and entertained her. Just as she is about to plant a tender kiss in the hollow of his throat she pauses, her breath streaming out of her lungs as she forces herself to lift her head. She wasn't that woman anymore. Something inside her, possibly the elf whose body she inhabits, is repulsed by it. Lonan He swallowed hard, nerves showing only slightly. "They are in the home of my guardian." Melanctha "Mmm.." An affirmative sound, throatily purred as she lightly kisses the spot where his pulse throbs at his throat. Fine, she wasn't going to bed him, or any others. The elf had given her more sexual morality than she'd had as a deity, but at least she could relie on Eirnae's flirty nature to let her have some fun. She'd have to work on the other later. She slips away from him, leaving him room to breathe, though the fingers of her right hand travel to gently capture his chin in a featherlight grip. "I wish to see for myself. You would take me there, yes?" Lonan He shuddered at the touch on his throat. Even if she was truely the Weaver of Shadows he wasn't one to let things like that happen lightly. "Why would I?" Melanctha Unlike others would be annoyed at being questioned, Melanctha is not. She retains her love of those who question everything, and seek to understand it all. Even if they question her. The other deities could never understand her fostering this trait, but she believed it helped to keep her intellect sharp. Even now. "You are aware of your situation," she replies calmly, her voice as always not above a whisper. "I could hold you captive for your information... but I choose not to." She lowers her voice still further, "An act of kindness was given. Let that be your reason." Lonan "It is not my place to bring others. It would be up to her, and I don't know where she is at present." A low trick to call on a favor for a favor after a threat. He would have been alright had he been left where he was. He knew that area well and had a route planned back afterwards. Now he was in unfamiliar territory. He didn't appretiate it. Melanctha "Very well," she says as she releases his chin, standing silent in front of him. "Then introduce me to your mistress, so I may ask her in person." In another life, she wouldn't have bothered with the asking. She'd have simply followed and taken what she'd wanted, then shared it with her own. Why did things have to get so damned complicated? Lonan "As I said, I do not know where she is. Therefore I cannot ask." He stayed where he was, tense and waiting. This was rapidly turning into a bad day Melantcha Her chuckle reverbrates more than she'd planned, a small piece of marble falling from the statue behind her and crashing to the floor. She manages not to jump at the sudden sound. "I do not mean right this minute, winged one. I am but a faded memory, what right have I to demand the impossible?" The bitterness in her voice smacks of her frustration at the constraints Eirnae forces upon her. This would be so much easier without all of these damn rules floating in her head! "No, merely mention that an aquaintance interested in her collection wishes to see them for a time. Speak my name when you are ready for my arrival, and I will hear." Lonan "You think it would be that easy?" There was a tone of disbelief in his voice again. Draconayzia was manythings, but fool hardy about her home she was not. Melanctha What was this woman's... Wait. That name, it was familiar. No... no, that couldn't be right. She shakes her head to rid it of such thoughts. "It usually is," she replies quietly, crossing her arms over her chest. "Or at least it used to be. Tactics change with time." She studies his face in the dark his blind eyes cannot penetrate. Finally she speaks up as she steps back to lean against the crumbling statue, "To meet her would do. I am not one to steal into her home unbidden, not anymore. Speak my name to her directly, and I will see to it to ask her myself. Today, tomorrow, it matters not which." Lonan "I don't even know when she'll be back. And after this, you trust me to ask? I could very well leave and never speak of you to anyone." Melanctha "Yet if you don't, I'll know, won't I?" she replies with a slight smile, her wings wrapping around her. "I won't bore you with the ways I can keep track of you. Likely you already know a few if you read the texts." She shrugs slightly, watching him with slitted eyes. Lonan "True, but if you react badly how will the rest of the Pantheon view you? I do know a certain doppleganger that you're friends with. Do you want to destroy that? Wind and Shadow, twin whispers that only the trained can hear. I have hear of Wind. And I know she has befriended Draconayzia." Melanctha "If she knows of Wind, then she shouldn't be surprised if Shadow comes to call," she replies softly, hiding the fact that he struck a nerve by naming her old friend. She may have been reduced to her current state, but she wasn't about to be threatened by this wing creature who felt himself the holder of the keys to his lady's manor. "As for the rest of the Pantheon, they have never quite known what to make of me. Why should they attempt to puzzle me out now?" Lonan "All I know is that I won't be the one to open her doors for you. Calling on a favor also requires balance, what you asked was too high. Her saftey would have conceivably been compromised. I can't make that promise." Melanctha "You presume much," she replies, stroking down the barely there feathers of one of her wings, "I ask to meet her, yet you assume I meant within the walls of her domicile. Surely your Draconayzia leaves her home from time to time?" Lonan "That much I will relate. No more, no less." He was still standing there, just letting his ears paint a picture of the room for him. Sounds reverbrated off objects and walls. Even though her form was a bit less solid than most he could still find it. He'd seen the ruin before, however breifly. There was a mental map ready. Having made his map of the place he moved to leave. Melanctha She watches him shift towards the caved in opening of the room, shifting in the dust to sit back down, some of the gray draining from her eyes. Her split vision is very discerning, her usually being able to see both color and detail now harried by Eirnae only being able to see black and white in the pitch black. She closes her eyes to avoid the incoming headache. Lonan He didn't notice, hand finding the wall and trailing towards where the open portal was. If she wanted to stop him she was certainly allowed to try. He didn't know who was stronger, but he wasn't going to idly stay anymore. Melanctha She says nothing. Does nothing. His reaction to her only served to further remind her of older times. "Some things never change," she says to herself, forcing her eyes open and pleased to note that her vision has corrected itself. After many attempts, she'd learned that to meddle in the affairs of others only served to give one grief. Better to observe them from a distance, and sweep in to get what you need when they aren't looking. So why did she keep trying to get close to them in this life? She blames the elf, with her sense of honor and wanting to get involved in everything. She watches as Lonan wanders down the murky hall, heading towards the closed off archway at its end. She shakes her head, but says nothing to warn him. Let him figure it out on his own. Lonan He stumbled, picking up the small stone he'd tripped over. Finding a hallway he tossed the stone down it. No, that way was closed. On to the next. Melanchta She waited in the dark before her altar, smiling to herself as Lonan stumbles through the Maze of the Chosen. She had used it ages ago to determine who was worthy to be slipped into her bed, to mark with her favor. Halls of it have crumbled into disuse since then. With no one to look after the Maze, vermin scurried alongs its stone floors. Lonan Lonan edged his way down the pathway. He could smell the fresh air coming through. Following that was easy. He was only forced to slow so that bare feet wouldn't be torn on fallen marble. Melanctha She lays down on one side, her wings acting as both pillow and blanket as she lets her conciousness slip from her shell of a body. Little more than a shadow itself, her snippet of a soul slides down the length of walls to follow after Lonan. Despite how he had verbally lashed out at her earlier, she would regret to see one with enough spirit to stand up to one who had even the smallest spark of divinity in them die to a mere slip on a stone. Lonan His steps faltered once in a while, feet getting worn. But still he just kept moving. Not once did he make a wrong turn, following the scent of fresh air through the moldering ruin. He could feel her eyes on him and it annoyed him. The long walk and the care over centuries old rubble was wearing on him, blood stained skin becoming streaked by sweat. He looked wild. Melanctha She watches his struggle through the ruins in silence, always keeping her presence to his back to inspire him to move forward. When she steals closer to his back and he flinches, she realizes that he can sense her presence in full, and this inspires and saddens her. 'Only the trained can hear, indeed,' her spark whispers into the emptiness of the hall behind him, urging him forward. To not pause, to not stumble. To be free of this place, and back to the world above. Lonan The maze was long and he had no wish to linger. Driving himself as hard as he could he kept going. There were clean patched of glassy marble on the walls where he'd leaned against it for a time while moving. Melanctha The irony that he was going through the Maze strikes her as bitterly amusing. They pass by a small shrine that has held up better than the larger one, the tiny statuette of her holding her hands out with the palms turned upward, offering the supplicant a vial of water that was magically kept clean and cold to sate their thirst for the continuance of their journey. Wanting him to not miss the old, yet seemingly intact, vial, she switches to his opposite side, seeking to drive him in the direction of the statue on her pillar. Lonan He did veer without even realizing it. He passed hands over the statue's upturned palms. An odd look crossed his face and he kept moving. Melanctha Blast it... She knows how long this Maze is. After all, she designed it. If he wasn't careful, he'd tired himself out and collapse, and then her wilder children, the spawn of her darker side, would drain him of his strength. They had already passed one of the crumbling skeletons on their way to this point, which he had barely missed stepping into due to her herding him away from it. Lonan He moved further down the maze, determined not to stop and not to falter again. Once outside he'd let his guard down, not before. His skin had become striped by now and looked nearly tribal in design. He rounded the next bend. Melanctha She could feel them gathering. They knew she was here, and they reveled in her return. She had felt them upon the moment the shadows had spit them out by her statue, though she cannot remember why she had focused on that particular chamber so hard to end up there. Surely she would have thought of another, like her bedchamber, or the alcove of worship, not the beginning of the Maze. Now her chaotic children, who had only grown even hungrier and more wild in her absence, stalk these halls. They had not fed in a long time. She flits to the right of Lonan to help him dodge a seeking, shadowy hand that extends from the wall. No, it would not be that easy for them. Lonan He balked immediately. There was one set of hands following the other, that much the air conveyed. He did stumble then, heel hitting a rock as he backed up. Cursing he fell on his rear for a moment before staggering back up and continuing down the hall. Melanctha 'No, no, no! Get up, don't slow!' she thinks, urging him back onto his feet. She isn't sure if they would listen to her now, or if she's strong enough to command them to. His best option was to get out of here with only some guidance from her, and best that he didn't know if she helped at all. Her meddling had put him in this situation, he didn't need any more. Without realizing it, she swats away a pair of the seeking hands, and it shies away as if a cub rebuked by its mother. Lonan He kept moving, the instinct to get out and away from the suddenly fraying hands clear. And it bothers him that he can sense such things. Another turn, and another, and just a slight bend there.... Melanctha The Shadows start to reach from the walls and now the floor in earnest, their fingers grabbing at whatever they can hang on to to try and keep him stationary, and hence sap his life's strength for their own. Their actions go against the original rules of the Maze, in which they were to attack only when their target was worn out from ill planning. Their hunger drives them forward, some sliding from the walls as far as up to their waists in their pursuit of their target. She tries to help him dodge each set of hands, but even with her unnatural speed it is impossible. She blinks back and forth, side to side, but it isn't enough. Lonan He felt the phantom touches on wings and pant legs. Starting to become truely worried he moved faster,only to end up tripping himself on another piece of rubble. Adrenaline bound instinct got him back to his feet almost instantly. Melanctha He wasn't going to make it. She realizes this, and it drives her into a rage. Her children weren't playing by the rules. They had forgotten her reign, and now they seek to feast on one who isn't even a potential Chosen. Her spirit winks out from behind him, retracting her guidance. She would need her body for this task, and all of her strength. She can feel the madness the Shadows have suffered over the centuries, and part of her rage leaves her and is replaced by pity. Lonan There were hands upon him. He jerked and fought them, pulling and slowly staggering forward despite their pull. Blood and sweat made his skin slick, helping him slide away. Now he moved to run towards the feel of the outside world, ignoring the ripping of his feet. Melanctha The Shadows howl their outrage at the instance of their prey to avoid being consumed, rising up to fill his path with their incorporal bodies to block the way. Their fingers become as claws, somewhat solid as they try to rip and tear at him as he rushes past, screeching in a language now lost to history. Lonan The claws were rending into him, making him bleed anew. Crying out in surprise and pain he scrambled to find a way around them, past them and only ended up getting snared for his efforts. He was exhausted. This wouldn't last long. Melanctha She reaches her body, now rung around by smaller Shadows than the ones attacking Lonan. The little ones whisper and smile, looking more like ghosts than sentient pieces of her element. They move aside to let her reenter her physical form, their voices greetings her clearly, asking why she's been gone for so long. These, she realizes, are the ones that have not given in to the madness of their brothers. She ushers them to her, as any mother would her children, gathering them into her own shadow to take with her. They do so willingly, clinging to her devotedly. She then concentrates on Eirnae's gift, stepping into the Shadow Plane and walking through the walls of the Maze. She picks up speed, running like a wild thing through the grey haze, seeking Lonan's form. She is dismayed at the state she spots him in, leaping out into the hallway to wrap her arms around his waist. As she'd hoped, her sudden appearance surprises the Shadows, their attack halting for the precious second that she needs to drag Lonan with her into the plane she once called home. Lonan Lonan had still been fighting, however weakly. Wings were flapping against the hands and legs kicked out with abandon. He hard;y registered the hands around his waist as different, reeling from the sudden change in plane. Melanctha "Be calm," she murmurs, dodging one of his flailing arms only to get hit on the jaw with another. The blow stings, but she ignores it. "I will get you to the end of the Maze. From there, you will be on your own." Lonan His sides were heaving under her arms, the body shaking with exhaustion. Wings were flared, trembling slightly in their defensive stance. Sanity tried to break through instinct but the new cuts that were not purge-made kept that from getting too far. Melanctha "Stay by me," she says softly, moving so only one arm is around him so she can duck and weave easier if he decides to flap his arms about again. She slides him towards her a bit, so he can lean on her if what strength he has remaining gives out on him. "Close your eyes, raven. You need them not, anyway. You are safe for the moment." Lonan The only thing he could do was agree and follow. His foot falls were uneven and his skin chilled. Too much in one night. But still he wouldn't let himself fall. Melanctha They cross through the remainder of the Maze at a slow but steady pace, a smile coming unbidden to her lips as she realizes that she'd never helped a supplicant the way she'd helped this mytsery man. She mentally shrugs, blaming it on the Shadows that went insane and not following the rules. That allowed her to bend them a bit, right? Once they step past the last black marble wall, she steps back into the Material Plane, bringing him with her. They stood within the final testing ground of the Maze, her old chambers. It had fallen into disrepair like the rest of the temple, but at least its side exit wasn't blocked. "This way," she says as she starts in that direction, ignoring the memories scrabbling at the back of her brain for attention. Lonan The next shift in plane sent him reeling. He managed a few steps before his legs buckled, taking him to his knees. He was panting again and shaking slightly. Sheer exhaustion at it's worst. Melanctha With the way she had been supporting him, and the fact that she wasn't by any means prepared for his plunge to the floor, she goes down with the weight of his shoulder over her's dragging her down. She lands on her knees hard, wincing at the smacking sound they make against the hard, and damned cold, stone floor. Well, tonight was getting worse by the minute. She flexes her toes to be sure nothing twinges in her lower legs, relieved to feel nothing is broken. Then she shifts her attention to Lonan, her left hand going to his chest to flatten her hand over where his heart should be. "Slow your breathing," she instructs, alarmed by how hard and fast his heart is pumping. Lonan A few staggered gulps of air and he tried to at least control his breathing. It took a few coughs to keep it from getting worse, but it was far from getting better. His wings fell behind him, feeling far too heavy to stay up. His arm slipped from behind her, falling to the floor to keep himself up. Melanctha By the planes, he wasn't strong enough to leave. All that effort, with the door right there to what should eventually get him to the surface, and his strength gave out here. Melanctha sighs, scooting on sore knees to get in front of him, too focused on her task to notice how her form presses up against his as she wraps her arms under his armpits to brace him. "You need rest, raven," she says in a low whisper as she puts all of her strength into pulling him up as she stands, nearly wrenching her arms from their sockets as she does. Oh, being mortal was just lovely. She drags him towards what is left of her bed in the center of the room, glad that the cushions had at least looked somewhat intact the last she glanced at them. 'Please don't let the magic that kept them from getting ratty have crapped out on me,' she mentally begs as they get closer. Lonan Feeling her strain he summoned just enough to get himself standing. The slow staggering steps he took were pained, finally feeling the small wounds on his feet. Still he refused to let himself fall again, stragone caster or no. Melanctha "Almost.. there..." she mutters, finally tugging him the last of the way, using her own body's weight to propel them over the smoothed egde of the flat bedframe and onto the cushions. It's only when his weight is on top of her does she let the memories of what she did on this bed come back for a time, her cheeks flushing before she shoves them aside. "Can you move to the side?" she asks as she starts to try and wriggle up and away from him, finding her legs trapped under his. Well, this is a conundrum. Lonan A shaky arm pushed him up, feeling battered with hand-print bruises starting to form. The same wing rose. With a push from both he managed to roll onto the opposite side and nearly off. He was shaking now. No matter how much he ordered his muscles around he couldn't get them to listen anymore. Melanctha Well, that was a first. Asking a man to get off of her, in this bed? Heh... Times had changed. She sits up, scooting off of the bed to rise beside it. She moves to lay her hands on the side of his right outer thigh, gently pushing him further onto the bed. It smelled like dust, but not much else had changed about it. 'The spell must be lingering,' she decides as she sits down on the edge of the bed by his feet, frowning at the debris stuck in the bottom of both. She looks up and tries to meet his eyes as she says softly, "This will hurt," before taking hold of a shard of marble and sliding it out of the tattered flesh of his foot. Lonan A soft grunt was all the reaction he had for being turned over. Pale eyes were half-lidded as he focused on regaining control of his breathing. The first pluck at his feet brought a sharp hiss. After that he remained silent and still. Melanctha She keeps up with her cleaning of what he'd managed to get lodged into his feet, tearing at some of the sheets under the coverlet he's laying upon and laying out strips of the weave. She leaves him for a time, wearily disappearing back into the Maze. The Shadows do not come for her, instead staying hidden away, cowering and muttering to themselves. She fetches all of the vials of water, four in total, before coming back. She arranges his feet to hang over the edge of the bed so she can wash them with the vials contents, using one of the strips of cloth to dab them dry. Lonan It was hard to stay awake while she was gone. For some reason being alone in the quiet seemed to just make the weight of things settle on him. He had nearly drifted off before she returned. He was getting a bit worse at hiding the stings he felt, hissing again at the washings. Still they felt much better when she was done. Melanctha She has to keep herself from stretching the kinks out of her arms as she winds the strips of linen around his wounded feet to try and keep out infection, finally crawling up and flopping onto the bed beside him when she's done. "By the stars, you are so much trouble," she mumbles, her eyes closing as the need for sleep starts to overcome her senses. He had more wounds she should tend to, but she's done enough for him already, damnit. Especially after that little threat he tried to pull about Wind. Lonan The pearl eyes closed and breathing slowed. He pooled energy for one last things before sleep, barely having enough to make it audible. "Thank you..." Melanctha She hears his words, but is already too far along the path to the dreaming to answer him in the same fashion. Her body, however, responds by twitching her arm closer to his, fingers gently closing on his wrist out of reflex. And so the mortal form of Shadow slumbers next to a man she doesn't know, in a place she once held power, where her depraved children howl in a secluded Maze of crumbling memories. Lonan Waking was an exercise in futility for a long while. When he finally did wake his body burned, feeling the pull of strain muscle and healing skin. He knew he was supposed to be elsewhere. Ignoring the pain in his bandaged feet he carefully slipped from the bed, trying to stagger towards the exit. Melanctha Melanctha stirrs a bit as the coverlet rustles and the old bed gives a little groan as its lighter occupant leaves it. She rolls over onto her other side, so she is now facing the direction of the door that leads up into the main chambers of the underground building, and sighs softly in her sleep. Lonan Lonan's movements were no where near as fluid as they should be. Steps were jerky, often hitting small stones, sending the skittering with a curse. More than once he found himself leaning against the wall for support as he worked his way out. Eirnae It was the scraping of stone against marble that forces her awake, her eyes fluttering open to blink in confusion. "Where...?" she asks as she shifts to sit up, rubbing at her sea green eyes before looking around her in bewilderment. "For the love of the Lady, where has she taken me now?" Lonan The teen didn't stop to ponder the voice, barely noticing it at all. He needed to get out of this place and back to the Hollow. He had promised after all. Eirnae Eirnae quickly scurries off of the bed, the small wings perched to either side of her head fluttering like mad as if trying to keep up. "Hey you!" she calls to Lonan, dodging to the side to avoid a large clump of debris. "Wait a second!" She gives a soft curse when her left foot collides with a chunk of marble in her rush, now hopping after him on one leg as she briefly inspects the bottom of her foot. Lonan Grimacing a bit at the order he complies, leaning heavily against the wallas he waits. His skin is a mishmash of stripes, crimson and white from the previous night's altercation. Eirnae She continues to hop till she's close enough to lean against the wall herself, plucking the sliver of stone from its haven of soft tissue in the arch of her foot with a wince. "Let's start with introductions, as she's never kind enough to let me remember such details." She tosses the bloody rock to the side, not giving it a second more of thought as she reaches forward to rest her warm hand on one of his forearms. "Call me Eirnae, and you are?" Lonan That thought shook him. For a moment he just stood there, considering. "Lonan. My name is Lonan." Eirnae "A pleasure, I'm sure, Lonan," she says while patting his arm in a friendly fashion. "Now, kindly tell me why we're down here? I'll likely get a whole stock of dreams about it later, but I'd like to know now, if I can. The place does seem familiar..." She pauses to narrow her eyes as she looks at one of the stripes on his chest. "You look like you could use some tending to." Lonan "I guess it's the Weaver's old temple. And I'd rather like to leave myself." He's steadier for the small rest. Still, he's been underground long enough. "Do you know the way out?" Eirnae She purses her lips, turning to look in the direction of the door then back to him. "I'm afraid I don't, but I'm certain she does. Of course, I'm relishing the fact that she's resting right now... wherever inside my head she does that. Anyway, I'm rather good at finding my way out of places like this. I can try to get us out of here." She eyes him critically before shaking her head, "You don't look fit for planar travel, so we'll have to do it the hard way." Lonan "I'd rather stay on this plane, thank you very much." There was a tenseness in his voice that spoke of just how much he liked that method of travel. Eirnae "Ah, an experienced planar traveler, I see, and a disgruntled one at that." She chuckles softly, then limps to the side of him to slip an arm around him. "Lean on me if you need to. We're headed straight forward," she instructs. Lonan "Not by choice." Whichever question he was answering was unclear. He moved a bit slwer, not wanting to send Eirnae tumbling. This had just been a bad set of days. Eirnae "Dare I ask how you met the Weaver?" she asks as they reach the opening of the doorway and start heading up the stairs one by one. "I'm guessing that you didn't come down here willingly." Lonan "I honestly don't know how to explain it. I... fell asleep in the woods, I woke up at the pinacle of the temple. And no, -not- willingly." Eirnae "Figures," she mutters as they trudge up more steps, "No doubt some misguided attempt to aid you, I'm sure." She also belives that such was Melanctha's warped way of emulating the personality of her host, though she won't be sure till the goddess is awake. Lonan "Perhaps." He fell silent, focusing on where his feet were falling. Even the smallest pebbles felt like glass shards under his feet. Eirnae "Not much of a talker, I see. That's fine. Likely best that we stay quiet anyway. Never know what lurks in places like this." She briefly considers calling Alimus to her, then decides against it. Things weren't looking that bad yet. In silence, she and Lonan slowly ascend to the top of the stairs without incident. Before them gapes a huge cavern with an arched ceiling, the shreded remnants of could have been silk cushions littering the floor. There aren't any pebbles on this floor, only the two halves of what was once a majestic winged statue now embedded into the floor where they crashed long ago. Lonan He waited for her to say something about the new space. Foot falls sounded vastly different and he felt the ceiling soaring overhead. Wings rustled slightly, settling tight against his back. Eirnae "Well," she starts, her voice echoing faintly and making her duck her head sheepishly. She softens her tone to be just above a whisper before she speaks again. "This room is huge. Watch your step there... You don't want to run into that." She steers him around a black marble wing. Lonan Finally getting the feel for the huge space he lets the elven woman lead her, waiting for what ever came next. "Becareful of any shadows you don't own." The soft warning is tinted with a touch of hesitancy, and perhaps fear. Eirnae She lifts a brow at his warning. "I don't normally fear shadows," she replies after a moment, heading in the direction of a wide archway carved into the far end of the room. It's then that she hears soft laughter from behind her and stops, gripping his side tightly. "You were attacked by shadows?" she asks softly, preparing to release him and face the threat lurking up on them. Lonan "Yes." His wings arched, black melding seemlessly with the shadows. To simpler beings it might appear they were kin. Eirnae "Then stay still, and be ready to run when I say," she whispers before whipping around with her hands going to where her b*****d sword would be over her shoulder. Except it isn't there. "Confound it!" she growls, crouching slightly as she brings her fists to bear. "Fine, I'm damn rusty at hand to hand, but.. the hells?" She blinks like an owl in the daylight when she notices that the 'lurking threat' has turned out to be an assembly of small Shadows, some resembling very young children despite their wispy forms giving no sign of gender or race. "Ah.. hello?" Lonan He stayed still a a statue, wings still flared to make them blend into the blackness out of instinct. Belatedly he realized it was an attempt to shield Eirnae. Melanctha Her vision of the small gathering of Shadows becomes blotted out by the feathers of his wing, and she backs up a bit to prepare to duck under it to get back into the conversation, or battle, she had been in the process of starting. Her mostly bare back sliding up against his side and part of his arm takes her by surprise, enough to jostle the Weaver within awake. Melanctha's arms slide behind her to encircle Lonan's waist as Eirnae's warmth starts to leave her, enjoying the close contact despite what brought him and her into this situation. "They will not harm us," she murmurs huskily as her children creep forward and rejoin with her own shadow. Lonan Lonan noted the shift in temperment and temperature almost imediately. Not one to walk into troubles arms twice he tried to extricate himself. Melanctha "I wouldn't," she warns him softly, her wings now finished with their transition to her back, their feathery forms to either side of him. One passes through his left arm, leaving the skin tingling as if having fallen asleep. "You are still injured, and may reopen the coverings to your wounds with your struggles." Her voice is languid and soothing, like a cool night after a long day. Lonan He jerked back at the feeling of something sliding through his arm. If anything that spurred him to try a bit harder to get out of her touch. His wings moved to an open arch, more a mark of anger than sheilding now. Melanctha "Be still," she whispers, "The others are attracted to movement." Her eyes narrow as his wings move out of her field of vision, scanning the corners of the rooms. "As long as I mask you with my presence, you are safe." Lonan "Of course, you've brought nothing but good fortune, haven't you?" There was snide sarcasm in his tone. Once again he tried to pull back. Melanctha Blasted, annoying, stubborn mortals! She growls low in her throat. All that keeps her from turning around and clawing red stripes in his face to match those covering the rest of him is her realization that she'd gotten him into this mess. She slides to her left and twists around to face him, one arm smoothly darting between her and his abdomen while the other releases him for a fraction of a second, till he is once again held. Her wings are swept back in the same angry arch as she tries to meet his gaze with hers. "If I let you go, they will swarm you again," she harshly whispers, "Now stop struggling and move with me." She takes a step backward, feeling around for any possible hinderances with a foot before doing so. Lonan The gaze back is empty white. Growling softly himself he realized he didn't really have a choice. Not appretiating how closer she was holding him he did move to follow if only so he wouldn't be tugged. The black wings stayed out and back, larger than her's, mostly for balance but still intimidating when he chose. Melanctha She isn't paying much attention to his wings at the moment, she's far too busy trying not to damage her feet as she backs up and past the way out of the large room. The sound of the whispers from the other room's darker corners start to quiet in her head the further they get, but she remains silent as they walk. His anger only serves to add to her own as they shuffle down the temple's main hall. She focuses it with effort to add to her strength to get them both out of here safely. Lonan He wanted to jerk away and continue on his own, but after last night he knew that to be folly. Clamping down on his emotions he conentrated on placing his feet properly among the ruins. Melanctha A breeze from the outside dances down to rustle Lonan's feathers, bringing with it the promise of fresh air and wide open spaces. The scent makes Melanctha smile for the memory it brings her Wind, even if only slightly. "We are close," she whispers, stepping up high and back to where the first step leading out of the temple should be, her foot coming down on thin air. Lonan Lonan kept his wings flared, not getting a clear reading of the area from sound. "Where are we?" Concern over any traps or faults takes place of anger for the time being. Melanctha "Where the entrance should be," she responds, scooting in a small circle and tugging him gently along with her so she can study the way they came as well as the way they were headed. She frowns at the sight of the collapsed arc where the stairs would have started to wind up from. "We aren't getting out that way," she states, whipping her head about at the sound of a gutteral growl in the distance. Lonan His face was expresionless, waiting to hear an alternative. At the sound of the growl a bit of fear started to work it's way through the emotional clamp. Fresh memory was all too new. Melanctha Without thinking about it, her wings sweep forward in response to his fear. They expand till they resemble a thick clingy black mist that hovers about them both, staying an inch or so above their skin. She presses forward into him, resting a cheek against his chest as she tries to remember the layout of this hall. Details p***k at her brain, secret passageways that lead to various chambers, traps with their locations and ways to disarm them.. Ah, there. "This way," she says softer than usual, pushing against him to force him backward. "There is a half moon divet in the wall that should be to the right of your left foot. Press down on it." Lonan The sudden shut off of senses combined with the Shadow moving closer sent him further on edge. Under her cheek his heart is beating hard and fast. Not expecting her to push him he stumbled hitting the trigger accidentally but hitting it none the less. Melanctha A loud soft click that seems to echo inside of her head issues from the divet as the trigger for one of many secret passageways slides open near them. Lonan already caught in mid-stumble, she goes with his momentum and puts a jerky twist on the end of it, turning them both towards the doorway and past it before it closes again. She holds her breath as she waits to listen for possible danger, even in this ensorcelled place of safety. When she hears none she lets out a sigh of relief, sliding her now warmed body away from Lonan and stalking to the opposite end of the chamber. Lonan Black wings reflexed, trying to keep him up and balanced. Shoved back he only stood there, waiting for her to move again. So that was it. Shadow was fast becoming one of his least favorite people. Waiting a moment to see if she would press back he pushed off from the wall, found his balance and followed what little trace of sound she offered. Melanctha She was actually providing plenty of sound of him to track her by, her hands searching through a collection of baubles on top of a table that seems to have seamlessly grown out of the wall. "Where is it..?" she asks herself, obviously not finding what she's looking for. Lonan He decided to stay still, sound-mapping the new room. How in the blue hades had he gotten here anyway. Melanctha "Ah.. Ah!" she mreeps as she dives down to rescue a vial very similar to the ones found within the Maze before it smashes onto the floor, straightening to blow her hair out of her face. "Here," she says while latching onto one of his wrists and pressing the stoppered vial on his palm. "I'd suggest you drink that. It should refresh you. Don't drop it, please," she warns before going back to her search. Lonan His hand closed around the small vial reflexively. Warring with himself for a moment over the merits of drinking some unknown substance he finally decided to drink it. It was downed in a few quick swallows, not wanting to dawdle. What came next he didn't know. Melanctha The clear, cold liquid goes down his throat with ease. It tastes like water from the freshest of springs, and not long after drinking it his muscles feel less weary and any hunger or thirst but a memory. Melanctha doesn't take the time to wait and see if the water's magic still works, too busy feeling around what she's cleared of the tabletop for... "Ah, there you are," she murmurs with a smile, pushing down on another half moon near the edge of the table and hearing the now satisfying click. Lonan His ears perked at the soft sound. He didn't drop the vial or discard it, but rather tucked into one cargo pocket on his pant leg. "A way out?" Hos voice was next to her in a heartbeat. Seemed that once he was feeling more himself he could move nearly as quietly as she could. Melanctha She nearly starts at the sound of his voice so close when she wasn't expecting it, silently cursing herself for the flush that creeps into her skin at the memory provokes. "Yes," she replies quickly, moving away from him to regain her composure. "Follow the sound of my voice, and you'll be free of this place." Lonan He said nothing, merely waiting for her to lead. Her voice was easy enough to follow. Melanctha Why did she install so many damned stairs again? She can't remember why she found them so useful back then. She must have drank far too much of the fruit wine she 'borrowed' from Love while designing this place. At least these stairs had a light at the end. "Nearly there," she announces as her vision is flooded with light, her hands flying up in front of her face as she shrinks back with a soft cry. 'Late morning,' she thinks as her back hits the back of the small cave, her arms criss-crossing over her face. Lonan Feeling her reel back he was stumped for a moment. Then he remembered what he'd been told of shadow and light. And from the warmth that hit his skin he could guess the cause. Wings flared again, this time to block the light in an act of kindness perhaps. Melanctha She groans, her wings adding their cover to his by reforming a bit thicker than before they became the mist. Once the sizzling beneath her lids ceases she lets out a slow breath and opens her eyes equally as slowly. "Thank you," she murmurs when she sees that her wings aren't the only ones blocking out the light streaming in from outside. She gestures weakly towards the opening of the cave. "There is your exit. Go now, I'm sure you've had enough 'adventure' to last you a while." She does her best to hide the weariness in her voice, having kept up her protective shroud far longer than she had before in this form. Lonan There was that weary edge on her voice. Then again, he coudl hardly help her tired and drained as he was. Insteand he moved towards the door, sheilding from the light as he went. Even trade. Melanctha She smiles slightly and slinks in the direction they came from. Her intent is to go downstairs, hide in the shadows and search for another of those vials. Maybe even get another nap in. "Take care of yourself, raven," she calls after him, her soft tones whispering near his ear as if she were there instead. Lonan He barely notes the words. Once outside he finds himself a stream to rinse off in and a sheltered place to rest. A short nap and he'd go back to the Hollow. Just a short nap...
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Posted: Sat Feb 11, 2006 10:14 pm
Shadows and Light. One called him raven. The other, wren. Both seemed to fit to a degree. Though he was more content to be netted as the winter wren and admitted it to himself freely. Elle was a balm on his soul.
The Weaver though, she was trouble. Could be very bad trouble. He'd have to wait and see. She could show up again anywhere that wasn't warded. The Hollow was secure. Draconayzia hgad made sure of that. When he'd inquired as to why, the woman had actually snarled and replied 'I don't trust their kind.' That was enough to convince him to drop it. Bad memories ran deep with that growl.
But what would come? The purges were painful but needed. Of course he didn't want to experience them but he would not shunt them on another. And the Balm. that soothed his soul like nothing else. She made it bearable. For her sake of mind he'd bear it without grudge. For her sake he'd learn to close his mind. For her he'd learn to fly.
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Posted: Sat Mar 04, 2006 9:23 pm
Lonan was sitting on what had been declared his spot on the porch. It was still very much winter as far as he was concerned. There was cold. There was snow. And the trees were still lakcing leaves if the creaks they made in the wind were any indication. His reverie was interupted by the soft sounds of nails on wood and... chains? He couldn't remember anyone or anything near the Hollow that had chains on it. There was a huff of breath by his hand. Careful to be slow and unthreatening he lifted his palm, opening it for inspection. A moment's hesitation, another sniff and a gentle bump of a cold nose. Minding himself his hand moved to carefully rub the muzzle of the creature, following up to scratch behind a pointed ear. Lonan wasn't sure of the creature's origins, but there was no sense of danger. Not from the being of cool shaggy fur and a low rumble of contentment. "Lonan? Oh, hello to you too pup." Lonan was a bit surprised that Drac had managed to sneak up on him like that. Then again she could be very quiet when she wanted to be. The creature at his side merely looked up at her and he felt the opposite ear perk. "Thought I wouldn't see you again, girl. Just stuck around long enough for some food and care and you vanished again." The canid grumbled a bit, but relented to the gentle hand scratching the underside of her muzzle. "Decide you like Lonan?" The creature regarded her for a moment, then Lonan, then Drac again. Her response was to put her head on Lona's knee. Drac's smile was audible in her voice. "Good. Take good care of him, ok? Lonan, I think it's you that this grey beauty wants to name her." Lonan sat in shock for a few moments as Drac retreated back inside. Grey colored? Canine? A soft bump reminded him to start scratching behind a velvet ear again. " Sonata. Lunar Sonata." A rumbling consent came from his new wolf.
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Posted: Mon Apr 17, 2006 7:48 pm
Devmani stood aside, letting Lonan walk himself into his house. "Careful, table near the wall on your left. Step up about a yard in front of you."
Lonan Felt carefully for the obstacles. This house was much more open that Drac's was. There were fireplaces at strategic intervals, large windows that were mostly open to greet the newest breezes, wooden floors under foot. All in all he found it very cleansing in a sense. The Hollow was comfortable in a warm, almost crysalis like fashion with all of the ever-changing life. This was open but still lived in, but more calmly.
Sonata stayed by his side for the moment, looking over the centaur. She'd only seen him once, a long time ago. Deciding that this place was alright she padded over to one of the cushions that were piled along the walls. Finding it workable she curled up on it and settled for a contented snooze.
Devmani watched as his "younger brother' walked around his house and became accostomed to the layout. "It's... calm here. I'm surprised concidering your temperment. But this is a good place. It feels... clean."
The centaur decided to smile and take the compliment for what it was.
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Posted: Mon May 01, 2006 9:57 pm
A careful hand wandered over the wares offered. An open aire market was one of Draconayzia's favorite haunts when the weather warmed. Devmani was sticking to the center of the street to avoid accidentally bumping anyone. Unless of course he had to talk to a vendor. There were all types here. They were not concidered strange. Hades, by comparison to some they were down right dull!
A soft tinkling at his wrist reminded him why he was tollerating the crowds today. He wanted to find something appropriate. His hand hesitated over a cool bit of metal and bead. "This. What does this look like? Not colors but give me a sense that doesn't require sight."
The vendor looked at him strangely for a moment before noticing the scarred eyes. "It looks like autumn, all warm hues and cool tones. Like a sunflower perhaps, of leaves just off the fall tree."
He thought that over for a few moments. "Done."
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Posted: Sat May 06, 2006 11:15 pm
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Posted: Fri Jul 21, 2006 7:55 am
Idle hands worked the rough fur of the canid's head. It was calm with the balmy breeze. The air was thick like a blanket over everything. Even the swaying trees seemed to loose the will to sway at the tempting bit of coolness coming from the ocean. It was too hot to do anything but lean against a tree trunk in the shade and let the day wash over you.
beside the languid youth Sonata gave a soft huff, moving her head until his hand was at -just- the right spot. Grumbling a bit she settled back down, content to stay put and simply exist for the day.
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Posted: Mon Jul 24, 2006 10:18 pm
..Broken mirror, a million shades of light..
..The old echo fades away..
..But just you and I can find the answer..
..And then, we can run to the end of the world..
I read those words somewhere. But they mean very little to me.
Broken old recording.......
Voice without a sound.........
Never find the answers I.........
But always towards the end move...
I'll keep walking........
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Posted: Mon Jul 31, 2006 8:27 am
The steady sound of stone scraping stone came from the backporch of the Hollow. It paused for a moment before starting again, a bit more muffled. In the shade offered by the roof Lonan was hunched over a grinding stone, fingers stained a dull red from whatever he was crushing. Every few passes he'd pause, feel the powder that was in the basin before adding a few more dried flowers to be ground. Sonata was curled by his feet offering a soft whuff from time to time or nudging his hand.
Sometime later he lay down the grinding stone, picking up a paper funnel and a vial. Holding paper and vial in one hand he carefully tipped out everything from the grinding basin into the glass. Done with that the vial was capped and basin and hands washed. A new bundle of dried plant matter was dug out and a few crisp petals put into the basin. The process began anew.
Draconayzia watched from the kitchen window, washing dishes and preparing for the evening meal. Her curiosity was piqued. But she'd wait until he offered an explanation. It was important to him, that was what counted.
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Posted: Tue Aug 01, 2006 11:45 am
"Lonan, what are you making?"
The blind youth stopped his grinding and tilted his head up a bit. He'd been waiting for the query, noticing the centaur watching him a while ago.
"Mixing scented pigments. I can tell the color or tone from how they smell. It's faint to most, but I can tell the difference."
Devmani watched as Lonan ground the dried petals into a fine powder. Every so often he'd stop and test the fine grans before either adding mre or grinding it more thoroughly. It made a sort of round-about sense.
"This might sound rude, but what will you paint, or whatever you're going to do with those. I thought you couldn't see at all."
The winged youth shrugged slightly, testing the powder again. "What I feel, what I can discern from memory. Just because I can't see something the way you can doesn't mean I don't have an idea for how it appears. I have a very good tactile memory. And yes, these will be paints."
"Ah, sorry."
"Don't be. It was a good question."
He watched as Lonan mixed a few vials of powder, the meticulous way he made sure they stayed completely separate and washed the basin and stone thoroughly after each color. "Would you like some help with grinding the colors? I do similar things when making poltices."
Lonan paused and thought that over for a moment. Then he realized that Devmani wasn't thinking he couldn't do it properly, but rather offering him company while he worked. "Alright. You can start in on the bluebells."
Smiling he knelt down nearby but out of the way, pulling out his own mortar and pestle, grinding dried buds to a fine cobalt powder. They didn't talk or even really gesture to eachother. The silent company was enough.
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Posted: Wed Aug 02, 2006 5:11 pm
Finding a quote in one of her books Drac put a marker on it. Perhaps Elle would like this one since it was fairly reminisce of Lonan.
"You are the light of my life, though you cannot see the peace you bring. Your heart is placid but the tranquil wind carries inescapable memories. You have already ascended them, yet they will grow from your heart forever. Your sword is sheathed, your soul is pure.
Now there is only silence, harmony, and the whispers of the future."
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Posted: Wed Aug 16, 2006 11:59 am
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Posted: Wed Aug 16, 2006 12:02 pm
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