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Lenore Silme-Natenhar Crew
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 Posted: Fri Nov 20, 2009 9:31 pm
Damien wandered the grounds close to his temporary home in Moon Haven. Tinania and Zhane had been kind enough to invite him to stay - Emerald Haven held too many memories for him right now. Instead of intruding upon their privacy - and, let's face it, he needed privacy of his own, too - he asked his uncle, Rinion, to sing a simple home for him out of one of the older trees.
He was drained, had cried so much the last few days, and at the funeral earlier that day, that he felt as if he had nothing left within himself. He hadn't even bothered to change out of his mourning robes, the unrelieved black making his already pale, faintly icy blue-hued skin practically glow in the moonlight. His light blonde and green hair had been elaborately braided, courtesy of Laerwen, with tiny black beads woven into the tiny braids scattered throughout his loose hair, while some strands had amber and green wires coiled around them - a small token of remembrance of his dead mother.
He stopped in front of one of the trees, noted that he was close to Tinania's and Zhane's home. He did not go further, preferring solitude for the moment. It was all real now. His mother had been buried by the large pond on the Haven grounds, a marker of a small tree sung by Rinion the only indication that something was different there. He felt a little better, felt a little closure now that his mother was buried. But, it did nothing to fill that vast emptiness he felt inside.
He lifted scaled hands to his tear-ravaged face, rubbed it, and empty sea-green, serpentine eyes stared at the bark of the tree in front of him. His yes glazed over as he lifted his hand to rest it upon the rough bark, his brow contradicted his eyes as it wrinkled in concentration. His mind, blessedly, cleared of everything as he just stared at the bark; even the biting evening breeze teasing his loose hair and sending his long elegant robes flapping was no distraction....
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Posted: Fri Nov 20, 2009 9:56 pm
Phaerna watched the young man from nearby. She did not mean, of course, to be watching him...but at the moment, she also didn't dare move from where she stood.
Since recent happenings had brought sadness to Moon Haven, she had found herself in an awkward position of wanting to be there, and yet not wanting to be there at all. For as much as it seemed Tinania and Zhane had appreciated her help with the children, it also seemed that everyone wanted their space at the moment.
And she had tried to oblige, staying out of the way when she could, trying to make herself as small as possible when in the house, and unseen when outside of it.
Damien, she'd found, she'd been giving an especially-wide berth. Gone was the polite and cheerful young man she had introduced herself to on her first visit to the Haven, and in his place was a distant spectre of his former self....one that existed in a shell of sadness that no one could reach past. And with good reason, she knew. To lose one's mother....it was something she could not begin to fathom happening to herself. She did not imagine she would handle it any better than he had, but likewise....
....likewise she'd wished she could offer him something. A caring word, a gesture that might help him to see that others were there for him. Unfortunately, she had come up blank and felt perhaps it might be best to leave him be.
Especially today, having seen his mother for the final time.
And yet here she was, barred from going where she'd planned to go by where he stood, and unable to escape without being seen....
.....and, the young drow-nymph wondered, did he really need the idea people were running from him in his time of greatest weakness on top of everything else he had endured today?
A gentle breeze tousled over her, blowing through chestnut curls, before she drew in a breath, stepping forward.
"Damien..." she said quietly, carefully, bowing her head a bit in greeting.
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Lenore Silme-Natenhar Crew
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Posted: Fri Nov 20, 2009 10:11 pm
He started, his hand jerking away from the bark as if it had burned him, his eyes losing that glazed quality. Still, he was slow to turn toward the familiar voice; he took his time clasping his hands behind his back, stared at the faint name he had sung into the bark before he looked down at the ground. His jaw worked a moment, not in irritation but with nerves. Finally, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
Damien turned to face Phae then, did his best to give her a smile in greeting but fell far short of that goal, the result being a slight jerk at the corner of his lips. "Good evening, Phaerna," he said softly. To his relief, his voice was not raw; he sounded almost ... normal. "I, ah, wasn't expecting to see anyone out...." he continued, glancing back to the tree. He unclasped his hands to smooth out his robes absently.
"Are you visiting Zhane?" he asked, returning his gaze to her once more.
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Posted: Fri Nov 20, 2009 10:19 pm
Thin fingers fidgeted at one another as she nodded once. "I was just helping make sure that Calvin and Danica were taken care of for the night." She was untroubled by his demeanor, having expected worse, in fact.
The fact he had not told her to go away and leave him to himself, she felt, was a small miracle. (though if he had, it would have, at least, given her an excuse to make her exit).
"And you...?" she ventured at last, her eyes wandering briefly to the place on the tree he'd, a moment ago, been fixated on. From where she stood, however, the inscription could not be read. "How are you holding up?" The answer to that was obvious just looking at the poor man, she felt, but the tone her question was presented in seemed to moreso ask Is there anything I can do?
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Lenore Silme-Natenhar Crew
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Posted: Fri Nov 20, 2009 10:41 pm
At the question his jaw tightened, and he turned away from Phae again, looking back at the bark of the tree. His back was as straight as a board, his shoulders squared as he lifted his hand back up to the faint elven script. "I'm ... managing," while his voice seemed a little louder, it was also as tight as his jaw.
Distractions, he needed something to distract himself. He'd been at peace when he had emptied his mind and focused everything on what he had been doing before he heard his name. Damien could find it again, he was sure. As he glanced at Phaerna out of the corner of his eye, he quirked his brow. "You know, keeping busy ... idle hands...." he murmured, studying her. He was lying, of course. He hadn't left his bed much since Nyoka had told him the news of their mother's death. But, now that there was some closure, he was hoping he could start moving forward again, instead of moving back.
"But ... it's good to see you," he finally said, his tone oddly ... grateful. The only one in his family that hadn't been avoiding him was Nyoka. He wasn't complaining, he didn't think he could be around them much ... but it made for a lonely existence. Finally, he relaxed a little; shoulders slumped, the muscles in his jaw loosened, he even managed a small smile of thanks. As he searched his mind for something - anything - to talk about other than the death of his mother, he ran his fingers over the elven script once more. Frowning, a thought occured to him, and he motioned for Phae to step closer. "I was trying to get my mind off of things. Uncle Rinion, at my request, gave me some basics on a certain brand of elven magic." his voice trailed off then as he looked back at his work, his brow furrowing in concentration once more.
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Posted: Fri Nov 20, 2009 10:52 pm
Inwardly, she breathed a sigh of relief that he seemed, even in his mourning cloaks, not to want to discuss the funeral. The young lady felt she might have sounded like a broken record, able to do nothing other than say "I'm sorry" repeatedly like someone who truly HAD nothing useful to say on the matter (Which she, unfortunately, didn't).
She hesitated only a moment at his invitation before obediently drawing nearer, following his gaze to the faint inscription on the tree's bark. Phaerna found that, even up close, she didn't make much sense of it.
....but its craft was fascinating. It did not appear that the letters were carved or seared into the wood so much as that they had always been there, and had, quite naturally, grown out of the tree's core.
Tentatively, she too extended a hand, fingertips tracing over the edge of one symbol.
"....what sort of magic?" she inquired, intrigue winning out over shyness.
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Lenore Silme-Natenhar Crew
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Posted: Fri Nov 20, 2009 11:06 pm
It was a few moments before Damien responded. He was concentrating again. Slowly, the script grew clearer and clearer. If her fingertips were still over one of the symbols, Phae would have felt the bark beneath them shift ever so slightly, burrowing deeper and deeper into the trunk until the message was noticeable now.
He puffed out a breath, leaned lightly against his palm as it rested on the tree, and looked over his handiwork.
"My uncle calls it 'singing'," Damien started. "Apparently, most all elves have the ability to sing, though there are few who are very skilled at it." he quirked his brow as he turned his head so that he may face Phae once more. "I am having a difficult time grasping it," he admitted, it was evident from his tone that he was not pleased with that. "I guess I am just used to a very different sort of magic," he muttered, almost speaking to himself.
Finally, he blinked, and added, "Have you ever tried your hand at something like this?" he asked, nodding toward the tree.
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Posted: Fri Nov 20, 2009 11:23 pm
And now it was her turn to pause, green eyes wide in bewilderment as she took in the now clearly-visible (but still unreadable) script in the tree's trunk. She was well-aware of the fact she was adopted, and that her existence was the result of a union between two races who were known for wielding their own brands of magic, but in spite of that, she, like Zhane, had been brought up in a mundane household.
Talon and Yeande, if they had any powers, never used them. They did not condemn magic, but it seemed, instead, they ignored it. And so, she had done the same. .....mostly.
At length she shook her head faintly. "No." she said. Then seemed to reconsider. ".....nothing like this, I mean." she relented, looking to Damien at last.
Another breeze tousled past, bringing with it a tumbling of a few fallen leaves, one of which alighted itself on the shoulder of her shawl. Tweezing its stem between her thumb and forefinger, she held it up as if to examine it.
....though if Damien would watch, the leaf, on its own, began to move. Slowly, awkwardly, it seemed to jitter in her fingers as its stem contorted into two small coils, held in place as if it had always grown that way.
Her eyes flicked back to Damine's elegant scripture on the trunk, and then returned to her own 'work', and her face grew hot with embarrassment. They certainly weren't comparable....
"Just this." she murmured.
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Lenore Silme-Natenhar Crew
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Posted: Fri Nov 20, 2009 11:39 pm
He watched, closely, as the stem changed before his eyes. And, then, his face looked puzzled, curious. He'd guessed Phae had some elven blood in her, drow to be more specific, but he now knew that she wasn't a full drow. From his experiences with them, they didn't play with nature too much, as far as he knew the Underdark was more of a series of underground caves than anything else. No, what he knew was fact was that they leaned more toward the arcane - specifically magic to do with shadow.
Just like Eirnae.
"You're only half drow...." he muttered, his own work forgotten now as he stared at the leaf. Finally, it was his turn to blush, and he looked at Phae once more. "My apologies, Phaerna," he started. "I did not mean to be so rude. It's just that ... when I asked you that question, I never dreamed that you'd be able to do anything with a tree or a leaf or, well, anything like that ... I expected some shadow manipulation," he admitted. He dropped the question of her lineage, and managed another smile, feeling his grief start to pull back for now. He knew as soon as he was alone it would pounce upon him again. Now, though, he would gladly take the reprieve.
"I ... might be able to help you do other things ... if it's something you'd be interested in, that is," he said. "It's obvious you've the ability, you just have to focus it."
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Posted: Sat Nov 21, 2009 12:22 am
"Oh, no....no, you're not being rude, I just..." she faltered, wanting to reassure him. Her lineage was not a sore topic for her, but.....it really wasn't one she was well-versed on. Her adoptive parents knew only what the adoption clinic had seen fit to tell them, and it was information they'd relayed to her when they'd felt she was old enough.
The bottom line being, she knew exactly -what- her parents had been....but as for the who and the where, she had no clue.
"My mother was a nymph." she explained, returning the small smile, in unspoken reassurance that it was really all right.
"And...." her eyes returned to the leaf, turning it over between her fingers. ".....I guess I never really saw it as an ability." she admitted. Opening her fingers, she set the leaf free into another gust of autumn wind. She was silent a moment, considering, before looking to Damien once more, her smile showing in her eyes as it became a bit more genuine.
"I would like that, I think. ....if you could teach me."
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Lenore Silme-Natenhar Crew
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Posted: Sat Nov 21, 2009 12:49 am
That explained ... well, a lot, in all honesty. The brown hair, green eyes, the lighter than average skintone that Phae possessed. And, now ... well, with her blood, she would have no problem with speaking to trees. At least, Damien thought.
A little of that man that Phae had met before shone in his eyes. He was on a mission of sorts, and the spark of his renewed intellectual passion seemed to shine faintly in those empty eyes of his. Her smile had not gone unnoticed, and had seemed to be contagious, for the faint smile that he offered her in return managed to just reach his eyes. Lost in the mile-a-second thought processing that his mind seemed to be sucked into, he almost reached for her hand. He caught himself, however, and immediately clasped the expressive things behind his back so that they would not be tempted again.
"It is an ability, one that your mother passed on to you," he started. "Just as the magic that flowed through the veins of both of my mothers -" he visibly winced, but refused to sink back into that abyss once more. "Well, we've both inherited some sort of magic, it would seem." he concluded, casting his gaze downward as he thought.
Damien had tried his hand at teaching before. It hadn't ended horribly, he had just gotten ... distracted, as he was prone to do, and he had to resign. But, this time, well, he would actually work at it. "And, I think I can teach you ... that is to say, I hope I can teach you," his small smile turned faintly sheepish then. "I might utterly fail," one hand snaked out from behind his back so that he could tap his chin thoughtfully. "Exactly how much have you dabbled into what you just showed me?"
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Posted: Sat Nov 21, 2009 3:15 am
Her smile had faltered as his mood seemed to waffle between perking a bit, and then dipping lower than it had been when she'd first greeted him, and then evening out once again.
"Not a lot, I'm afraid." she said, hoping this would not discourage his decision. "I can't do much with it besides what I just showed you. I can bend plants a bit...." she paused to consider amending this. "....and if I concentrate very hard, sometimes I can make some of the green stir back into a plant that's turning brown. But....but, only sometimes."
Now it was her turn to be sheepish. Some magician she sounded to be.
"I don't think its possible for you to fail at this." she offered, quietly, as an afterthought. "If I pick up anything at all, its more than I had a minute ago."
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