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 Posted: Tue Jun 04, 2024 9:30 pm
Characters: Sorya and Gabriel
Prompt: The first time they met each other in Musique.
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Posted: Sat Jun 15, 2024 12:26 pm
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Beyond The Time Vice Captain
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Posted: Sat Jun 22, 2024 9:49 pm
   With the arrival of spring, Sorya found her wounds healed enough that she no longer required daily dressings, and for the past two weeks she had been making the daily trek up the mountain to the remains of her home, usually arriving mid-morning and lingering until early evening. The first week had been miserable; with so much of her strength drained due to how long her injuries had kept her in bed, what would have been an easy trip last year had seemed an overwhelming task. It was getting easier, but she still got the shakes sometimes, which she was beginning to realize she couldn’t attribute solely to her weakened state.
Or…she could, but she didn’t want to think about it. She didn’t want to think about much lately.
The sight of the temple still threatened to break her the first moment she saw it each day, the receding winter snows and returning green of nature making it look that little bit different every time. She had cried more in the last season than she had in her entire life, and she didn’t know when she would run out of tears or the awful grief that felt bigger than her skin could contain. The first day she hadn’t been able to stop weeping, and the villagers that had accompanied her had shied away from comforting her with the Guardian looming so near.
Now many of them had grown so used to the statue that it was not unusual for them to share in her grief, to offer a comforting touch, sing the laments of old with her that she hadn’t even realized they would know, and to weep sympathetic tears with her. The daughters of Armoniosa had been isolated from most of those beyond the mountain, but those who lived on it had known them, and enough had had friends and kin among those who had fallen that it had made Sorya realize she was not totally alone in her sorrow. It helped a little to know, but there was still so much that she couldn’t share with them. Memories that she alone carried now. Not enough, and already fading. She had spent much of yesterday trying to remember a joke Sister Helvia had told last summer, but to little avail.
It had been long winded, as many of her jokes were, but Helvia had been such a good storyteller that it had always ended in everyone within earshot shrieking with laughter. It had been the first thing Sorya thought of when her body had been dug up from the rubble, the distinctive maple leaf pattern sash she had loved giving away her identity far more readily than her crushed face. Her body had been curled around two of the children the sisters had been caring for, and they had taken Sorya longer to identify. Chenda and Pich.
They weren’t the last she and her companions had found yesterday, as the south wing had been where everyone slept during the winter, and that was also where the…where what happened had started. There had been one hundred and thirteen original residents, seventy-eight of which had been Armoniosan monks, and thirty-five of which had been the children the temple had taken in, some of whom having been orphans, with others having been purposely sent to them to be raised in the faith. Then the Lunar soldiers had numbered thirty.
In two weeks Sorya and her companions had dug up forty-five bodies, and laid them to rest in the temple’s graveyard located half a mile to the west. It had been hard work, made harder by Sorya’s injuries still paining her when she moved her left arm too much, but the villagers that accompanied her helped pick up her slack, stepping in where she failed…though sometimes she thought they urged her to ease up because the Guardian kept getting underfoot. Or maybe overfoot was a more apt description.
Whatever spellwork informed it of its purpose, it was clear to her that it saw no purpose in aiding her and the others in their gravework. All it did was dog her steps, always silently insisting on remaining within twenty feet of herself, and only moving when she strayed too far. She wished it wouldn’t. Or she wished it proved as interested in providing more valuable aid than simply staying at her side, its serene, close eyed expression unchanging in the face of the destruction of its own home.
…What use was a guardian that had protected the wrong thing?
Hands and feet covered in dirt and dust from the debris, Sorya again thought of all the memories and knowledge that were simply gone now as she lifted up a large broken brick to pass off to the next person. Sister Helvia’s jokes. Mother Vanna’s tales of the old pantheon and all the lessons entangled in them. Grand Mother Candena’s recipes that had dated back from five centuries ago. The names of all the birds Sister Rania had befriended. The old scriptures Mother Arianthe had memorized by rote, only half of which Sorya had learned in the last five years of her apprenticeship. All of Tola’s string games, and Chenda’s rhyming songs that she made up on the fly, and Pich’s adventurous dreams that he always had to recite every morning at breakfast.
Why hadn’t the guardian protected any of that?
Though the temperature was still cool, especially at this elevation, Sorya still found herself wiping at sweat dripping on her brow, leaving a smear of dirt that she couldn’t be bothered to clean. She straightened up, blinking away the salt in her eyes as a voice called to her. It was a taller man with brown skin and a kind expression in travel worn clothes; no one familiar to her. Was he from a different village, or from off the mountain entirely? She glanced for Vibol, the man she had been working with, to find him a distance away with their other companions and a wheelbarrow of rubble, speaking quietly to each other. She turned back to the newcomer, tugging her veil over her head like a hood.
"It’s fine," she replied slowly, quietly, "and your name, sir?"
He introduced himself as Alain, wishing to take up some of her time to record what had happened here. He spoke well and earnestly, his eyes so intent upon her that she had to avert her gaze.
"--know that I'll do everything in my power to make sure your experiences don't go unheard. You and all who once lived here deserve much better than that."
His choice of words had her blinking back tears again. She hadn’t been able to send word to the capital due to the winter snows, and then she had grown too preoccupied with her grief and recovering the bodies to give them a proper burial…the Silent One had taken the voices of everyone she loved, but she still had her own, and she had a responsibility to ensure that the movers of this country were aware of the invasion. Luna had only sent thirty soldiers last winter, and could send more at any time. Sorya nodded to avoid trying to speak through the lump in her throat, and gestured for him to follow her away from the ruins.
As she walked to a stone bench in the nearby courtyard, the guardian statue followed with the now-familiar sound of stone grinding on stone, its footsteps making the ground shake with small tremors until it came to an eerie stillness a mere five feet beside where she sat. Its four arms were settled in resting poses while it stood, its serene face turned to her like a sunflower to the sun.
"Wh-Where do you wish to start?" she asked, swallowing down the lump in her throat and absently wiping at the dirt on her forehead with the end of her veil.
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Posted: Wed Jul 17, 2024 6:44 am
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Beyond The Time Vice Captain
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Posted: Wed Aug 21, 2024 12:50 am
The scribe’s stutter drew Sorya’s eyes, where she found his own flicking between herself and the guardian statue. Of course. How could she have forgotten what a surprise it would be to see it move for the first time? She thought to say something, to apologize, but he was already taking a step back, and recomposing himself to ask his first question with a stronger voice. She had been too slow.
She often was.
"Would it be alright if I ask how you came to live here, then? If we start where you started?"
Sorya blinked up at him, taken aback, and followed him with her gaze as he came to sit beside her on the bench. He wasn’t starting with…with that night? A tightness in her chest she hadn’t even been fully aware of loosened a little as he assured her that she didn’t have to answer any questions she didn’t want to. She inhaled through her nose, smoothing the end of her veil over her shoulder. There hadn’t been enough time for her to consider what sort of questions would be asked of her, but she would have thought…well, nothing much about herself. Just a straightforward recounting of that winter night.
"On that you have my word, okay?"
There was an intensity to Alain that had her fingers twitching to lift her veil up and hide her face away from, but in the way one may shield their eyes from the sun. Kindness sang in him, soft and vibrant. She was blessed to hear it.
"I understand. Thank you."
She said nothing else as she thought on her answer, her view of the courtyard going unfocused. When she was old enough to understand, the Mothers had shared what they could of her arrival at the temple, but there was little to tell. It was enough that it had brought her to them, they had said. She had agreed. She still did.
Finally, she said softly, "I was born here. My mother was likely fleeing the war…she was terribly wounded on her journey here, and she did not survive the birthing bed. The Armoniosan Temple does not turn away people in need, especially not children, so they raised me as their own. My whole life has been spent here."
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Posted: Tue Sep 10, 2024 9:19 pm
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Beyond The Time Vice Captain
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Posted: Wed Feb 12, 2025 9:13 pm
The topic of her mother was a heavy one, and Sorya understood that well even if the weight had never personally bothered her. While she was grateful to her mother for having given her life to birth her, Sorya…had had many mothers to fill in that loss. Learning the details behind her birth had simply been a missing puzzle piece to slot into the story of her life, something to better appreciate where she had come from to reach where she was. She had nevertheless given her respects every year, but it was difficult to mourn someone you had no memory of.
Now she had too many mothers to mourn.
"I'm so very sorry to hear about the loss of your mother, Sorya. The way this war has torn families asunder...it's a shame."
Sorya inclined her head to acknowledge his kind intentions.
"It is," she agreed, "I was lucky I had the temple to raise me in her stead."
The scratch of pen on paper filled the air as Alain took his notes. She tilted her head back to watch the slow crawl of clouds above them, appreciative that even with how quickly he wrote there was no sense of rushing or urgency in this interview. After fiddling with his pen, he proceeded with his next questions.
"How would you describe growing up here? From how it's been told to me from the surrounding townsfolk, this place was a beacon of hope for the entire area."
Sorya blinked, dragging her gaze back to the temple where she knew Vibol and the others still worked, the sounds of their efforts faint on the wind.
"Is that so?" she murmured, "I was not aware, but I’m glad we could provide such succor. We…We did what we could."
Looking back on it, as isolated as they had been, the world outside of the temple had not been so distant as it had sometimes felt. The children they had taken in, the supplies they would trade for with the nearest villages, the rites they would sometimes go out to perform at another’s request…was that enough to inspire hope? Had the destruction extinguished that hope?
She closed her eyes, riding the wave of renewed grief with a deep breath.
"It was peaceful…simple. For a long time I was the youngest in the temple, so I was in a position where I could get away with more, but everyone expected better of me." She smiled briefly. "And while raising the children is always an effort for the entire temple, my primary caretaker was Mother Raubin…though she was a Sister at the time. She’s always saying she was the one who got everyone to call me Littlest Sister. ‘Littlest Sister!’ they would always call for me…’where have you been, Littlest Sister? Where did you hide this time?’ Grand Mother Candena was the only one who could find me whenever I was off exploring the mountains, she had the ears of a bat…ah, she was until we took in a boy with ears nearly as big as hers, and she got very competitive about which of them could find me first."
Sorya laughed at the memory, tears threatening to spring forth. She spent the next hour talking about her childhood days, recounting the daily routine, giggling over the punishments given for youthful mischief, and sighing wistfully over lessons taught. All too often she slipped into the present tense, still not used to thinking of the temple in the past, much less speaking it aloud.
"--it–it took a week to air the west hall out, and three weeks before anyone could come near us without looking like they had just eaten a lemon," she chuckled, reminiscing over the time Sister Rania had brought in a baby skunk to raise, none of the children involved realizing what would happen once it grew old enough to start stinking properly. A call from the dig site drew her attention, and, self consciousness drawing over her like a shroud, she compared the sun to where it had been. She was not usually one to talk so much about herself, but Alain had been so attentive and curious, it was proving difficult to stop.
"Ah, I am sorry, I have gone on for too long. Have you eaten recently?" she asked, peeking at the scribe in her peripheral. "I believe a meal has been brought up for everyone."
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Posted: Sun Mar 16, 2025 11:01 pm
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Beyond The Time Vice Captain
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Posted: Tue Apr 22, 2025 10:19 pm
"It is never trouble to feed a welcome guest," she quietly assured the scribe, and led him down the worn path to where the food had been prepared. It was some distance away from where they were digging so that their meals were less likely to be contaminated by proximity to the bodies, and though she missed the temple’s kitchen dearly, the sight of everyone sharing a meal together had come to bring some measure of relief to her heart. Provided a bowl, she gave the cook an informal bow of her head in thanks, and settled with Alain on the fringes of the area to sit on a cushion with her legs crossed.
After a brief prayer of thanks, she began to fall into the familiar ritual of eating…until she noticed Alain’s struggle. Slurping up her noodles, she watched him first fumble with the chopsticks as she chewed, growing invested in his success as he finally managed to get some of the food to his mouth, only for his face to go on an interesting journey as the flavors registered. Not wanting to embarrass him further by watching him so keenly, she turned her attention back to her own food, a smile lingering on her lips.
"I've never had anything quite like this before. It's definitely not for the faint of heart," he told her, drawing out a soft laugh that was almost unfamiliar to her now.
"Is that so?" She remembered a childhood friend going through a similar struggle with the local food, but he had been…well, three. Alain was certainly taking it far better than Marcello had. Far better than…
Shying away from the memory of martial men expressing continual disgust over the meals shared with them, she smiled at Alain over his next words.
"There's a certain cleanliness to it, though. A refreshing sort of feeling. It's good."
"I’m glad you think so. I know it can be an adjustment for those unused to the local food."
Then he bit into what must have been one of the peppers, and she had to hide a louder laugh behind her fist as his struggle emerged anew. It was strange to think that food off the mountain must be more plainly flavored, but very amusing.
"A step up from Calabrians, that's for sure. I may have to avoid those for a bit. Work my way back up to them."
"If you find any more in your bowl, I will take them for you. They are good for the constitution," she recited, quoting her elders as though she were one herself now. It was too sobering a thought when in good company eating good food. Seeming to sense the turn in her thoughts, Alain’s own expression grew more serious.
"In terms of food, was this region amenable to crops and the like? Is it still so after the attack?"
Sorya blinked, not having considered the subject much before, and plucked up some more noodles to chew on and gather her thoughts.
"In answer to both your questions, yes," she began simply after swallowing. Clasping her chopsticks in her palm so that she didn’t accidentally point with them, her forefinger pointed in the direction of the temple’s gardens. "I have not had much time or energy to tend to them, but the gardens are still producing, if you would like to see once we are done."
Plucking out a shred of vegetable to eat, she thought on it more before saying more quietly, "It had just past the first month of winter when they invaded the temple. They were more concerned with accessing our food stores over the winter rather than destroying the source."
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Posted: Tue Jun 03, 2025 10:31 pm
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Beyond The Time Vice Captain
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