Enter Icerra

[Avathius]

You talk in the first part about how there could be war on the horizon.

The idea of a war in Planeshift interests me, but there's really not that many factions. Who vs who?

I can't wait to see what you come up with here.

[Aramara Meibi]

You talk in the first part about how there could be war on the horizon.

The idea of a war in Planeshift interests me, but there's really not that many factions. Who vs who?

I can't wait to see what you come up with here.

my idea was a guild war. Ara spoke about her vision to only a few characters IG. Things got pretty heated not too long ago, and there was talk of a guild war, but it never manifested. I myself have not been around long enough to witness a guildwar, but the idea of the entire community coming together to RP a period of war, with different sides taking control of different areas, a real sense of danger, you know, dark bleak times, that idea still interests me.

but that's what it will take, cooperation amongst the entire player community.

[Karlyle]

I usually dont have time to read many of these stories, but Im glad I did today.  This is GREAT writing 
Keep it up

[Dannae]

I can only aspire to write as well as you do Aramara. You have shown the way!

[Aramara Meibi]

Forgive me for the retcon Jilata, but our trip to the DR was not Aramara's first

Tacutsi smiled with warmth and happiness as she brought tea to her guests. Sitting rather awkwardly on one of the large floor pillows but obviously enjoying the hospitality, the blacksmith's newlywed wife, Therceri, a short and ample lady dwarf, took the tea with a beaming grin and thanks. Seated next to her, with elegant poise and busily speaking of the bounty of crops the village was sure to have this cycle, was Quahpol Amorbro, wife of the town's wealthiest landowner. Tacutsi waited politely for Quahpol to take her drink without interrupting the conversation before returning the simple earthenware tray to the counter and taking a seat on a bright blue silken pillow next to Therceri. She sipped her tea and listened to Quahpol speak, a wisp of a smile on her lips.

Her home was simple, yet comfortable, a true home she thought. The house was circular in plan, not unlike the ultics of her childhood. Thick plastered mud-brick walls kept the interior cool during the summer days and radiated warmth on winter nights. The roof was a series of wooden beams and rafters covered in sod, with a hole in the center to ventilate smoke from the hearth directly beneath. In this one main room is where her family prepared meals, ate, and slept. Her office and that of her husband were rectangular additions built off to the side.

The conversation had turned to this years upcoming harvest festival when Tacutsi's sensitive hearing picked up a faint cry carried on the whispering wind. Her ears perked up and focused in on the direction of the cry, a familiar voice, but carrying with it the sounds of pain and trouble.

"Maaama! Maaama!"

The cry grew louder, closer. Slowly she stood with her eyes focused on the heavy wooden door that served as the only entrance into the home. Her guests raised their eyes to follow her, both quietly holding their cups of tea and wearing expressions of wonder and worry. The sound of quickened footsteps could be heard approaching from outside, then silence.

The silence drew on what seemed like hours. Tacutsi could feel her heart race within her chest, beating as if it were to break from it's cage and leap from her body into the world.

Ka-CraCK!

The wooden door flew inwards with a gust of wind. Two figures stood standing in the doorway. Her youngest daughter, Icerra ran through the doorway and to her side, hugging her leg.

"Mama!"

Lingering in the doorway was her husband, Jreeku. In his arms hung the limp and bloodied body of her firstborn, Aramara.

*          *          *         *        *       *      *     *    *   *  * **

Aramara felt herself lifted.

A surface formed beneath her, neither warm nor cool, but firm, irregular, rocky. She felt the compulsion to breathe, but when she did it was an empty feeling, as if breathing didn't matter. She opened her eyes but her vision was blurred. She felt as if she had never used her eyes before.

When her vision cleared, she found herself looking at a stony wall like the interior of a cave. She realized she was lying on her back and the wall was in fact a ceiling.  She lifted herself up onto her elbows and looked around. She was indeed inside of some cave, but like no other cave she had seen. The walls were purplish-red and seemed to be illuminated from within, casting an eerie scarlet light upon everything.

Reoriented, she rose and stood. A rustling noise startled her and she spun quickly around to see a figure huddled against a wall of the cavernous room.

"Hello?" she tested her voice and found that it startled her. Just like everything else, it felt new, unused. She tried again, "Hello? Who are you? Where am I?"

A light and dry chuckle came from the huddled figure, obscured by a large, heavy white robe. The figure slowly rose and crept forward. Aramara stood, petrified with fright.

"Don't be afraid child." The dry, aged voice seemed to sense her fear. "I'm here to help."

With this, two bony paws emerged and lifted the heavy hood, revealing an almost skeletal enkidukai face. The patterns were Akkaio, just like hers, just like her fathers, but drawn tightly around the skull. The forehead was matted and crusted over with faded paint. The ears were pierced with fire carkarass feathers. Most startling, where eyes should be instead were fiery orbs burning in empty sockets. Aramara recoiled against the wall.

Still the figure crept forward. "Aramara... I have been waiting for you."

"H-how..." she stuttered, "h-how d-do you know my name?"

"Ah child, I know everything about you"

This did not comfort Aramara, and she dug her claws into the cavern wall, desperate for a sense of security.

"You have nothing to fear child. I will take you back to your family, but you must follow me. I will show you the way."

"B-but... wh-where am I?"

"Don't you know? Tell me Aramara, what is the last thing you remember?"

Aramara's mind suddenly raced as recent memories came flooding in. She was out hunting with her father and younger sister. She had gone ahead to scout while her father stayed behind with Icerra. A noise in the undergrowth caught her attention and she went to investigate. A foul stench. Hot breath. Pain. An Awful pain.

Aramara shook her head quickly to clear it. She looked around the cavelike room almost in a panic. Once she had asked her mother what happened to the people who died while in her care. She could hear her mother's sweet, calming voice now, explaining Dakkru and the Death Realm. A sudden chill came over her. Her knees gave out and she fell to the floor weeping. The white robed figure stood and watched through fiery eyes and betrayed nothing in response to this emotional display.

Aramara cried until her tears ran dry. She sat, almost motionless except for the occasional uncontrollable sob. Her body ached; the feeling of freshness had passed. With a final sniffle, she gathered the courage to face the truth. She was dead. At ten cycles of age, she made her first trip to Dakkru's domain.

She raised her eyes to meet the bent and haggard fenki before her. "Who are you?"

Without a pause, as if the question had been expected, "I am your destiny Aramara. I am what you must become."

With this a bony paw reached down. With a strange resolve, Aramara received it and was pulled to her feet.

"Come now child, let us walk together. There is much to explain."

[Jilata]

Forgive me for the retcon Jilata, but our trip to the DR was not Aramara's first

But it was your first time as player?

Anyway, I like your story.

[Aramara Meibi]

Forgive me for the retcon Jilata, but our trip to the DR was not Aramara's first

But it was your first time as player?

Anyway, I like your story.

Yes, it was my first time as a player, and I can't thank you enough for showing me the way out. I'd probably still be down there if it wasn't for you

If you enjoy reading it half as much as I enjoy writing it then it makes it all worth while.

Please everybody keep playing, keep RPing, for you are my inspiration!

[Jekkar]

This title is misleading.

[Aramara Meibi]

This title is misleading.

The original post was meant as an introduction for Icerra into the game. Thus the title. Since then, my intention has been to use this thread as a means to tell Aramara's story through Icerra's eyes, Icerra's Ismeal to Aramara's Ahab. Thus the title could mean the reader entering into Icerra's viewpoint. I admit, the last couple of posts have derailed a bit, shifting perspectives through several characters at several points in time and place. You see, as a single unified perspective myself, I'm into that kind of thing. I foresee myself continuing this trend until the entire story is told. I do keep the title in mind every time I begin writing. Do you know the Holographic Principle? I believe that the title of a work is the surface area of the space of the narrative. In essence, the story defines the title.

May I ask, in which direction were you led?

[Aramara Meibi]

That which is bright rises twice
The Image of Fire
-The Book of Changes

Jaxon sat staring into the campfire. The other members of his camp sang and laughed in boisterous drunken stupor, but Jaxon did not take part in their revelry. Only a few days had passed since he had been given his mission. He had taken it with a severity that his companions apparently did not share. He frowned. The whole plan was based around his ability to act, to gain trust, and to betray. All these drunken clowns had to do was the physical labor. It was his brains, his charisma, his will that was the crux of their success or failure. Sure, they could laugh it up, their job was easy. He pulled his hood over his head to muffle out their raucous noise. He had to concentrate. He had to prepare. He had a job to do.

* * *

Icerra swung the stick through the air in a high overhead arc. In her mind it was a bright polished longsword cutting through her enemies armor, flesh, and bone. She twirled her body round in mid air, landing in a pose she thought stunning and fit for battle, low to the ground, a stick in each hand, tail raised quivering in the air. She held the pose and snarled at her imaginary foes as they stumbled back in fear. With a tiny roar she jumped as high as she could, bringing both sticks down with a loud Whoosh! *CRACK* The sticks snapped as the hit the dry packed earth in front of their home. She frowned as she looked at the two broken sticks in her paws. "Well," she thought, "They'd make good daggers now."

She returned the snapped sticks to her pile, an arrangement of sticks of variant lengths, each length representing a different type of weapon in her imaginary arsenal. With pride, Icerra looked upon her collection, but just as soon a feeling of longing, a yen set in. She knew this feeling and almost instinctually her eyes raised and rested upon the seated figure of her sister beneath a nearby tree. Silent, regally poised, Aramara did not meet her gaze.

It had been almost five cycles since Aramara had lost her life in the trepor attack. Five cycles since her body appeared in the Dakkru temple in the mountains outside their village. Five cycles and Aramara hadn't spoken a word. It was as if her body had made it back to this realm, but her mind hadn't. Her eyes were always distant. At first, their parents worried greatly about her. Their mother tried to use every healing technique she could think of to bring Aramara out of her perpetual daze. Tinctures, elixirs, Crystal Way magic, but nothing worked. She even had brought in a Xiosan priest to come and hold ceremonies in their house, to chant over Aramara's body, perform a cleansing ritual to rid her of her state. This too, did nothing.

Exhausted from their efforts, her parents went back to their daily routine. This did have an effect. Aramara began to follow her mother around, paying close attention to her every move, watching her work, and even helping her tend to her patients. Tacutsi welcomed the extra help, and offered thanks to Xiosia for bringing some sense of life back to her daughter. But for Icerra, things were different. Aramara had been her best friend her entire life. For endless hours, days on end, they would run and play together in the streets, wheat fields, brooks and streams. All of that was over now. Ara had become silent, docile, boring. Their father had begun to take more and more business outside of town and was frequently away, leaving Icerra mostly alone, to play by herself. The emptiness she felt now was for want of a friend, her friend, her sister.

Icerra couldn't help but linger her gaze on Ara's form. At nearly fifteen cycles, her body was beginning to develop. Every day she began to look more and more like their mother, her body slimmer, curvier, legs longer. Icerra began to feel another sense of longing layered with something else, envy. She frowned and was about to turn away when Ara suddenly met her eyes. She froze. For five cycles her sister's eyes had been vacant, cold, but now they pierced through Icerra with a burning ferocity. Keeping her eyes locked, Aramara slowly rose to her feet. With a smoothness like the wind on the waters surface, her svelte figure moved over the yard toward Icerra.

Icerra turned as Aramara walked past her and watched as she stooped down to pick up one of the longer sticks in her pile. With a few quick strokes, Aramara used the stick to draw something in the earth. Icerra watched, motionless beside the slight shiver creeping over her skin. Aramara scratched two symbols into the dirt, simple but easily recognizable. Icerra had seen them before in the magic shop in town. Two glyphs, side by side, Mind and Fire. As soon as she finished, Aramara turned and looked Icerra straight in the eyes. Icerra swore she could see flames flickering in Aramara's gaze, but still she felt frozen, cold, chills run over her as Aramara spoke her first words in five cycles.

"He's coming"

* * *

Icerra flung her bag full of tloke parts onto the bar counter with a grotesque thud, "Delivery!"

Allelia laughed and took the bag, sorting out the various parts and counted out some coins in return. Icerra counted the payment, "Yer too kind, too kind" she said with laugh.

From behind she heard a snicker and an unfamiliar voice, "I've not seen a gathering of Kore in a while."

She turned to face the speaker, a young Kore menki with fluffy long fur, wearing a mask and a collar around his neck. "Hmm," she thought, "nothing cuter than a man who hides his face."

She looked around the bar and noticed no one else was there, "You talkin' ta me?"

"Err... more to myself..."

"Since when is two a gatherin'?"

"There was a third..." he shrugged.

"Ah... yer seein' things now"

"I'm not... he ran off, towards the stairs." At this, another menki bounded down the stairs and between them, out the door. The masked menki blinked.

"Alright, alright, I believe you.... uh, ya need a drink?"

The masked menki tried to respond, but they were interrupted once again by a Nolthrir girl running up to the bar with weapons drawn. Icerra accidentally on purpose fell backwards into the menki, but he didn't seem to notice, as he was concerned with the armed Nolthrir girl. She tried to laugh it off.

Just as quickly as she came in, the Nolthrir left, only to be replaced by a Demorian buffoon who tripped and fell as he walked through the tavern door. Icerra laughed at his awkward clumsiness, but soon some voices from outside caught her attention. They were speaking about Aramara.

Without hesitation, Icerra quit the tavern and rushed outside. She saw a fenki speaking with Nolthrir from the other bar, Ara's guild sister, Dannae. "Uh... hey... you said somethin' 'bout my sister?"

The fenki turned, "Sorry, who is your sister? Aramara?"

Dannae gave Icerra a pained expression, "Um... Icerra... I... um.... your sister's alright"

"She's alright? What's that supposed to mean? I've heard that about her before, it usually means she isn't alright"

Dannae held her gaze but winced at those words, "You're not going to drop this... are you?" She glanced at the other fenki, "I think I should tell her."

Dannae approached Icerra, tentatively reaching a hand out to touch her arm. Watched the hand reaching out towards her with confusion. "There's something going on.. you should know about it. I um... I would have told you before now... if I had seen you. Aramara asked me to actually. Come around somewhere a bit more private... I'l explain everything. Will you? please?"

Dannae shifted her glance to behind Icerra and asked, "Are you coming too?" Icerra turned to see the other fenki now joined by the masked menki from inside. She followed Dannae around the corner to a quiet location overlooking the main plaza, followed by the other two. Dannae pulled out two notes and handed them to her and explained how she received the threats and which names were called out. Icerra scanned through the notes, read through the strange rules and found her sister's name listed as a target.

"Your sister thought it was in her best interest to disappear until some things have settled. Miomo is with her."

"Whad'ya mean disappear?"

"She's hiding, Icerra. These people tried to kill Ixi after the first letter."

"Hiding? Do you know where she is?"

Dannae shook her head, "I did... I saw her a few days ago... but she said they wouldn't stay in the same place for long"

The masked menki spoke, "I hope Miomo can take care of her... he's kind, but I'm not sure if he can... err... nevermind."

Icerra felt a familiar sensation creep over her, impatience, frustration, fear for her sister that twisted her stomach in knots. She shot the masked menki a cold stare and waved her hand dismissively, "Whatever! she's probably taking care of HIM"

Her impatience was growing and she turned her attention back to Dannae, "So where'd ya see her?"

"You're not going to look are you?"

"What's it to you what I do?! She's MY sister! I want to know where she is!"

"She wanted me to tell you she had gone... that's all. Why would you want to take a chance of someone following you to her?"

That thought hadn't crossed her mind; Icerra frowned.

"It won't be long Icerra... I... I hope."

Again the masked menki spoke up, "Listen... I can understand why she would do this... it won't be forever."

"I don't get it... why didn't she tell me?

The strange fenki offered an answer, "I'm sure she didn't tell you because she wanted you not to worry."

Not to worry? Not to worry?! Emotions began to build. How could she not worry about Aramara?

Dannae reached out again to offer Icerra her compassion, "She wanted to"

Icerra stood stiffly with paws clenched, Dannaes touch going unnoticed. it's as if these people, these friends of Aramara's, had no idea, had no idea how much danger she was in. She stood unresponsive, her emotions a mix of anger and confusion

"She's never safe... never," was all she could offer.




Post Note: The last segment of this chapter was obviously derived from RP, so credit is due to the players involved. I could have easily included the whole scene, as it was excellent, but it was the final sentiment that I was after and the taste I wanted to leave in the reader's mouth going into the next chapter (which I'm extremely psyched to write)

[Dannae]

Wow Aramara.... more absolutely excellent writing!

I was surprised to see the story turn to the RP'd scene several of us played out a while back. What fun!

[Rhateru]

a Demorian buffoon who tripped and fell as he walked through the tavern door

* Rhateru grins, his teeth biting into his bottom lip, "Ah got ta be in yer nas story? Thank ya!"

[miomo]

Every chapter leaves me eager for the next. Fantastic, captivating writing.

[Mrokii]

Absolutely fabulous I enjoyed every chapter so far, very much. So much detail, I really can't wait to read more. The "rat eye between her toes" was funny, heh. And I love the part with the bug and her breakdown. Very emotional and touching.  

[Aramara Meibi]

Jaxon stood, hidden in the night shadows outside the small camp, staring into the fire. The young Akkaio Fenki he was sent after was also staring into the heart of the flames, her eyes burning with their light, only a stone's throw away. Next to her, an even younger Kore sat in fascination, watching as the tongues of flame flicked sparks and embers into the twilight. Each one followed it's own singular path, swirling in the currents of smoke and super heated air. Jaxon's eyes moved from one figure to the next, each sister a shadow against the firelight. His eyes flicked, and so did his mind. He reached out to them, trying to make a connection. The older fenki's mind was, he found with disappointment, impossible to read, but the younger... he smiled... well, a child's mind is an Azure Way mage's plaything.

As one grows older, the mind becomes less and less pliable. They become locked, trapped, into a singular reality, which they blindly except as truth. A student of the Azure Way knows that the concept of truth is a myth. All possibilities exist, reality in fact was a series of possibilities separated by mere silk screens, and the mind is the gateway, Azure Way the key. A child however is naturally in tune with all the possibilities of existence. They were easily acceptable to whatever was given to them.

Jaxon patiently observed Icerra's imagination run wild. Slowly and with calm, he kept pace behind her, as she scurried back and forth between planes of reality, dancing across the silk screens like an arangma in it's web. Curiously, he found that all of her imaginings contained her sister by her side. He used this as a focal point, a pivot from which to work her mind. With small nudges, light, guiding touches, he began to take control.

* * *

A log in the fire snapped, unleashing a torrent of sparks and embers whirling upwards in madness. Each speck of burning light reflected in the wide pools of Aramara's eyes. She did not see them, no, her eyes were drawn to something else. The chaos of the flames contained deep within them images pulled from the tangled weave of fate. The web caught her mind, drew her in, flooded her sight with what was to come.

Without much notice, Icerra sat upright, rigid. Her head skewed upward, ears flicking about as if listening to a voice that was not there. Jaxon's spell had reached her, implanting sensory information into her mind. Whispers floated through the ether of Azure Way energies between them, calling her into the depths of the woods. Young and lacking of will, the temptations overwhelmed her and she followed.

Aramara turned her head and watched as her sister rose and walked blindly into the woods, away from the firelight. She was prepared, and so, she hoped, was Icerra.

* * *

Icerra stared blankly at the two glyphs her sister had drawn into the dirt. "He's coming," Aramara spoke in a flat tone.

"Huh? Who's comin'? WAIT!!! You spoke!! Aramara you can talk again!"

"I always could... it's just... now I have something to say... he's coming"

"Who? Who's coming?"

"I don't know... but he's coming for me"

"Ara! what are you talkin' about? Les go get Papa"

"No... Icerra, you must listen... no one can know about this... just you and me, ok?"

Icerra looked into her sister's eyes. She could see she meant it. "Ok"

* * *

Aramara did just as Jaxon hoped she would do and followed her sister into the woods. She counted her steps, "One... two... three..." She knew that in the shadows,  a figure was closing in, "...four...five..." She steadied herself, two more steps, "...six...seven..."

* * *

Icerra heard her sister scream and call her name out, "Icer..." before being muffled into silence. Her mind snapped back into reality, becoming keenly aware of her surroundings. The last thing she could remember they were both sitting around a small fire, she was watching the sparks and embers dance in the air; now she was standing alone in the darkness of the wood. Her eyes widened, taking in the low ambient light of the night. Hear ears trained on the near silence, making out the sound of movement behind her. She turned and crept quickly towards that direction.

She could make out the firelight in the distance through the trees but stopped short before reaching their camp. For years since that first fatal trip she had been out hunting with her father, and the tracking skills kicked in. Here were signs of a struggle, two sets of footprints, one small, lightfooted, enki, her sister, the other larger clad in heavy boots. She was about to follow them when a glint of light among the leaves of the forest floor caught her eye. A silverweave dagger, dropped by her sister's assailant. She picked it up without hesitation and followed his tracks into the dark wood.

Icerra stopped when she noticed firelight in the distance. Slowly, carefully she moved into a position where she could see their camp. She stopped; her heart leapt into her throat. The camp was empty, deserted except for one figure standing close to the fire. Her back was turned, but Icerra knew, it was her sister. Something isn't right, she thought, this didn't make sense. Tentatively  she crawled out from the brush into the open. "Aramara?"

Her sister turned and smiled at her, "Hello Icerra, glad you could make it."

Was it her sister? The thought kept bugging her, doubt tugging at her mind. Something was off, but what?

"What's goin' on? I heard you scream... there was footprints... I followed them here... Where are we?"

"There's nothing to be afraid off, Icerra"

Icerra felt the fur on her neck bristle. The odd feeling kept nagging her. She looked quickly around the open encampment but saw no sign of anyone else, but she could feel, there was something, someone else there. She looked back at the figure of her sister, her eyes narrowing, ears instinctively flat and pulled back. She sniffed the air. There were definitely other people around, but somehow she couldn't see them. Then she noticed, clutched in her sister's paw, a glyph sack. Aramara had no glyphs.

With a quick outwards flick of her wrist, the dagger bolted through the air. Even Icerra was shocked to see it pierce directly through her sister's paw. Aramara yelled out, but it wasn't her voice. It was deep, masculine. The glyph sack fell to the ground, spilling its contents. Among various glyphs, one was glowing brightly, a mind glyph, lying next to a fire glyph.

* * *

Aramara looked intently at her sister, "No... Icerra, you must listen... no one can know about this... just you and me, ok?"

"Ok"

She pointed back at the two glyphs drawn in the dirt, "Listen, when you see these glyphs... there will be a fire... you need to throw the mind glyph into the fire, do you hear me?"

"What? Fire? Ara, what're you talkin' about. Yer trippin'!"

"I know... I know it doesn't make any sense right now, but I need you to listen, they're coming for me, they're coming to take me away and I don't want to go away, I'm scared Icerra. You have to do this, you have to throw it in the fire, it's the only way. Just tell me you understand, tell me you'll do it."

"Alright, alright, I'll do it..."

* * *

"I'll do it."

As her sister's figure howled in an unfamiliar voice, Icerra lunged for the glowing mind glyph in the dirt. Her paw closed around it when she felt a heavy weight come down on her. She lost her breath and struggled as unseen hands lifted her off the ground, but she kept her grip on the glyph. With a twist of her nimble body, she maneuvered to face the fire and threw the glyph in.

A blinding light exploded in her mind. Searing, hot white pain erupted, blinding, deafening, numbing all her senses.

When she came to she was lying in the dirt near the fire. There was a ringing in her ears, but everything else seemed muffled, distant. Her mouth felt dry and had a sharp metallic taste that pervaded her sense of smell. She raised herself up and looked around. Next to her was the body of a Dermorian, a silverweave dagger stuck through his hand. His face was covered in blood, which seemed to come from his eyes, ears, nose, and mouth. Icerra felt sick looking at him.

She didn't see anyone else around. She lifted herself up on her feet unsteadily. The ground seemed to heave underneath her, but she made her way to a stack of crates to sit. That's when she saw her. Hidden among the crates was her sister, paws and feet bound, blindfolded and gagged. Icerra tried to call out her name but her voice was gone. The thought sickened her, but she stumbled back to the body of the Dermorian and pulled the embedded dagger from his hand. Back among the crates, she cut her sister free.