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 Posted: Wed Apr 13, 2005 10:26 pm
<MAIN THREAD>
The white book lies open, obscuring the pristine cover inlaid with glimmering geometric shapes in blue glass. A few sentences have been scrawled in one corner with a swooping hand; but the words are no longer legible. The ink has been all but obliterated. It's as if someone held the book tightly and wept over the words it contained.
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Posted: Mon Apr 18, 2005 7:59 pm
Navigation
1. Mian Thread
2. Welcome
3. About Avella
4. Photobook
5. Memories
6. About Vian
7. Our Home
8. Friends & such
9. Gifts
10. Portraits
11. The Sacrifice
Welcome to Avella's Journal. This is where Vian and Avella can be found, constantly learning about each other. Unlike most journals, Avella's journal will be be partly illustrated in addition to narrated, Guardian, and Herald's point of view. All Heralds and Guardians are welcome. As well as any other acknowledged friends. - Please keep in character - This is our home, please behave appropriately as guests
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Posted: Mon Apr 18, 2005 8:02 pm
Name: Avella
Meaning: from Arella, "angel messenger"
Born: April 18th, 2005
Item Sacrificed: glass phial of water
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Posted: Mon Apr 18, 2005 8:13 pm
Where snapshots of the lovely Avella will be
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Posted: Mon Apr 18, 2005 8:15 pm
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Posted: Mon Apr 18, 2005 8:17 pm
Name: Vian
Age: Early 20's
Residence: beach house on Barton Coast
Position: Guardian of Avella, aka "Ava's devoted servant"
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Posted: Mon Apr 18, 2005 8:23 pm
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Posted: Mon Apr 18, 2005 8:28 pm
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Posted: Mon Apr 18, 2005 8:31 pm
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Posted: Mon Apr 18, 2005 8:34 pm
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Posted: Mon Apr 18, 2005 8:39 pm
Angels existed. Vian never doubted they did, but it was hard to convince others without the touchable proof everyone seemed to crave these days.
He had dreamt often of these beautiful winged creatures. Each had long flowing white hair and pale skin that seemed to glow. And their wings! Soaring in the blue skies with barely any effort, every one seemed set on a task. He watched as they delivered messages to people that would fade in and out of existence in this dreamworld.
Yet when the people disappeared the angels would seem almost sad. He watched as they took flight one last time and headed off to a ring of mountains in the distance. It was strange though, while all angels went that direction after delivering a message, he had never seen any return.
None of them ever took notice of him and he was content to just watch them until the inevitable time of waking would come. He called them Heralds, angelic messengers to the people of his world. Vian imagined they were important messages though he had never heard them speak.
Vian spoke often of the Heralds when he first started having the dreams, sketching them and recalling all the marvelous details. Most people gave him strange looks or laughed it off as a joke.
He mostly spoke with his friend, Sarielle, of these creatures. She seemed the most likely to believe him, though he never said where he got the ideas from. Especially since people tended to immediately dismiss it when he said it was a dream. She always listened and was interested, though it felt like she never quite believed him. It was still nice to be able to tell someone about them though.
So he was more than surprised when one day, an angel swooped down from the sky and landed gracefully before him.
"Guardian." the being knelt before him, head bowed. Their voice was like someone whispering in his ear, and yet more lovely than any music he had ever heard.
Guardian? He own voice sounded harsh in comparison, "H...Hello."
The angel looked up at him and smiled as they rose. A warmth flooded Vian at the sight, he could not resist smiling back. He was nervous as well, afraid of some terrible news.
"I bring a message. Go forth and seek out the Ruins. There you will find your charge, Guardian. "
Vian felt himself slipping away, but there was so much he wanted to know. "What Ruins? How will I know where to find them?"
"Travel towards the morning sun, do not stray from the path. You will know when you come upon it. Carry with you something well cherished."
Vian could feel the dream, no the vision, fading. As he watch the angel start to fade he yelled, "What is your name?"
The angel smiled, perfectly serene as they touched a hand to his cheek, "I am a Herald and my purpose has been served. Save us, Guardian, if you can."
Vian woke with a start. He touched his cheek, he could almost feel the cool hand still on his skin. The first thought was to brush it off as a fantastic dream, but something said this was something much more real.
Against all his logic, he packed a bag with all the necessities of a journey and set out.
He walked, travelling day after day with the sun bright in his eyes. He did have serious doubts about not wavering from the path since the most direct path east often left him trudging through tangled undergrowth and muddy grounds.
It was difficult keep on, not knowing how far away these Ruins were. If they even existed. Maybe he was just a fool... chasing after dreams.
Vian stopped to rest on a convenient group of rocks. Ahead of him was a mountain, though not a particularly large one. This side was a mix of rocky outcrops and patches of woods. He was tempted to go around, there couldn't possibly be anything here... But the Herald had said not to stray. With a sigh he headed up the mountain, compass in hand.
About half-way up the mountain, Vian came to a wooded area. It seemed a little daunting but at least it was shade. His feet were aching, sweat dripping down his back so that his shirt clung to his skin. The sun was low in the sky, and he was about ready to collapse and call it a night. That's when he saw it.
A clearing in the trees, roughly ten paces wide. In the center lay a large slab of stone and upon it lay a Herald. The long silver hair, pale skinned, androgynous, it was exactly like his dreams.
Vian walked slowly to the form draped on the altar. It did not seem to be moving, and feathers were scattered about the ground.
Its wings! What happened to its wings?
He knelt beside the stone and hesitantly put a hand to the angel's shoulder. The creature was cold to the touch, Vian felt all feeling drain out of him.
Is it dead? Have I come too late?, he despaired. He gently brushed the long strands from the angel's face whispering, "Please be alive."
Clear clue eyes that echoed a cloudless sky gazed back at him.... and blinked.
Vian jumped back in shock. Realizing how ridiculous he must seem, he returned to the Herald's side.
"What am I supposed to do? The angel in my dreams never said anything about this part."
It seemed like a tremendous effort as the Herald lifted its hand and pointed to Vian's pack.
"Do you want food? water?" He tugged open his back and searched for something for the Herald. His hand came across a small glass phial.
Carry something with you well cherished.
He had completely forgotten. He had taken a pretty glass bottle that had been a gift and filled it with water. Vian cherished living by water more than anything, grateful to be able to step out on the terrace each morning and hear the waves as they crashed onto the beach. He loved all water, even the rain. It seemed to him as if the heavens were crying.
So it seemed rather appropriate that his gift be tears. Even at death, the angel seemed to have none.
The Herald not had its eyes closed, unmoving. Vian panicked. What was he suppose to do? He pressed the glass between its hands, "You have to help me, what am I suppose to do?"
As the pale hands curled around the bottle, it glowed and vanished. The angel lay completely still.
At a loss of what to do, Vian tried offering more things without success. Was it dead? Did angels even breathe? The night air chilled him and he was so tired. Looking at the Herald, he pulled out his blanket and lay beside the form. "Forgive me, messenger. But at the least I'll try to keep you warm through the night."
He curled around the cool body, covered them with the blanket and fell into a deep sleep.
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Posted: Mon Apr 18, 2005 8:41 pm
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Posted: Mon Apr 18, 2005 8:43 pm
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Posted: Mon Apr 18, 2005 8:45 pm
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Posted: Mon Apr 18, 2005 8:47 pm
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