PlaneShift
Fan Area => Roleplaying (Communitive Storywriting) => Topic started by: Aramara Meibi on March 29, 2011, 11:33:45 pm
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The pain was an awakening. As if her whole life up to this point had been a dream. Here it was, reality made flesh. Pain, actual real pain, the pain of life. She reeled back a bit and lifted a paw to her cheek, where the other fenki had scratched her. She felt the blood ooze into her fur, trickle into her mouth. Salty, bitter taste.
She smiled, but only briefly before she lunged herself at the other fenki. With all her might she leapt, headfirst into the fenki's gut. She wrapped her arms around her opponent as they tumbled into the dirt. The crowd of youth around them cheered her on as they grappled and tossed each other in the dusty back alley. Finally, she was able to maneuver on top, pinning her opponent down. She sat on her chest, grinning into her face. Her arm raised up, claws gleaming in the crystal light, a quick swipe across the fenki's face. Payback.
The crowd did agree, she had won the fight. They cheered her on as she left the alley into the late afternoon street. A haze of dust filled the small village, as usual for this time of day, as the day's business began winding down. The tavern should be filling up by now, crowded enough for her to steal a drink. Her heart was pumping, adrenaline flowing through her veins. She had never felt so alive, so real. She slipped unnoticed into the boisterous tavern, made her way to the bar and swiped a mug of beer when the tender had his back turned. She gulped it down with a thirst like none she had ever experienced. The alcohol coursed through her veins quickly, making her feel dizzy, numb, but good. Boy, did she feel good. Alive.
A few stolen beers later, she stumbled back into the street. The evening was growing cool, a light breeze come down from somewhere on the dome. She looked up at those high, distant cliffs. The sheer walls that separated the upper Dome level from the Barn. Up there, somewhere in the town of Hydlaa, was her sister, gone for only several months. Something boiled deep inside her, bitterness, anger. She spit onto the dusty street and made her way home.
It was dark when she opened the door to their modest home. The aroma of a home cooked meal greeted her nostrils, as did the familiar smell of dried herbs, medicines, and balms that came from her mother's office, the smell of old parchments and vellums stacked upon her father's desk. Her mother was waiting for her in the front room, always patient, but with a grim expression.
"Icerra," she said as she walked through the door, "come, let me take a look at you."
Icerra stepped quietly forth and stood in front her mother as she inspected her cuts and bruises with practiced eyes and fingers. Her mother frowned slightly and turned to walk into her office. She reappeared holding a cloth and a bitter smelling clear fluid. Quietly she cleaned the wounds. Icerra winced slightly as the astringent liquid stung the fresh cuts on her face.
"I heard what happened, " Her mother said, in her usual smooth, calm voice, ever without a trace of anger, "Ever since your sister left, you've been hanging around those street toughs. I worry about you."
Her mother finished cleaning and inspecting the wounds, took a step back and sighed, "I worry about your sister too. I received a new letter today, would you like to read it?"
Icerra had read her sister's letters before. She read how she ended up in Hydlaa and had found Xiosia's Garden. She read how she joined a Sisterhood of Xiosian Priestesses, how she had been serving in Xiosia's name, helping strangers. Every time she read Xiosia's name in those letters, it made her want to spit.
Her mother held the letter out towards her, the grim look on her face told Icerra that this letter was different. Something was wrong.
To My Dearest Family,
I write to you with mixed and troubled emotions. I will begin by telling you that I have met someone, and our love is of the truest nature. He is kindhearted and a man of morals. Never did I feel that there was room in my heart to love someone as I love my dear Miomo....
Icerra had the urge to spit, but not in front of her mother. She continued reading.
I wish that this was the only news for me to write you, but much has happened in the past few weeks that has been very troubling. I have seen much pain and darkness in the hearts of my fellow citizens. Even my closest friends and loved ones I can see have heavy and troubled hearts. Even I, I'm afraid, have been infected by this darkness. The darkness comes to me in my dreams, even in my deepest meditations. I have the same vision, two dark towers, growing in the distance, casting shadows across the land. The towers are too tall, too unstable. They are an unbalance of power. I see war. I see the deaths of many. I shudder now as I write this. The vision is haunting, powerful, and follows me in my sleep. My dear Miomo has been working tirelessly to promote peace amongst the factions of the land, as my Sisters and I continue to bring the light of Xiosia into the souls of the people, but the vision still haunts me. I fear our efforts are futile.
Your beloved Daughter and Sister,
~Aramara Meibi*
Icerra lowered the letter and met her mother's gaze. It was her mother's dream vision that had sent Aramara away to visit the garden and find her path in life. Now it seemed Aramara herself was having visions, but of another kind. There was no hope to be found in the letter.
"Icerra, I want you to go and visit your sister. I want you to bring her something, something that I think will help her find peace and rest."
She pulled out a small leather sack with something small and round inside.
"This was something a client of your father's once offered in payment. I've used it before to calm my patients, but I think your sister needs it now. i would send your father, but he is out surveying the land the Brvanna's just bought, and won't be back for weeks. Will you take this and deliver it to her. She will be joyed to see you, I'm sure, and I think it will do you good to spend some time away from your new friends."
Icerra took the pouch and silently nodded. Then she rushed and threw her arms around her mother, squeezing tightly, tears welling up in her eyes. Mixed emotions flooded her, she was on the verge of her first real adventure, but into what? What was the danger her sister's visions foretold? Was there really war on the horizon?
Icerra couldn't wait to find out....
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[Oh! This is lovely. I cannot wait to see where this goes in RP]
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I love it Aramara! Finally had some time to read and this is the best writing I've seen of yours!
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I love it Aramara! Finally had some time to read and this is the best writing I've seen of yours!
Indeed, not just of hers, this is some of the best writing I've seen on the forums ever. Very nice. And I feel a bond with you from this. Khado has also written about his love for Miomo :P
But yes, very good!
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Awesome. I certainly want more.
Just so Aramara doesn't look bad, we at the Dark Empire shall be striving to make her vision come true!
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"Have you thought about becoming an author?" says the blind man admiring the painting.
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"Have you thought about becoming an author?" says the blind man admiring the painting.
I can't tell if I'm more jealous of Aramara for her writing ability or for Miomo xP
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I can't tell if I'm more jealous of Aramara for her writing ability or for Miomo xP
I'll help you with that decision. Miomo's just a fictional character. Aramara's creative writing is real.
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Really great too if you ask me... She's amongst my favourite PS writers now :P
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Of a list in which you're first or second? :P Just teasing.
Very nice, Aramara. I'd like to see an IC plot about this soon.
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Khado has also written about his love for Miomo :P
them's fight'n words
Just so Aramara doesn't look bad, we at the Dark Empire shall be striving to make her vision come true!
Please do, and Aramara will strive to prevent it!
I'd like to see an IC plot about this soon.
ICly I've been building up to this point for a while. This is just one major point on the roadmap that is Aramara's life. Icerra will make her debut this week. I hope you all enjoy her.
Thanks everyone for playing! \\o//
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Hey, we've been here longer. We're the ones doing the thanking, you just stay put until you get the right to do it. :P
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The rogue emptied his bladder on the sewer wall. The saber wielding Nolthrir crept up silently behind him. Her blade pierced through him with hardly a sound. She caught him before he fell, and lay him gently on the scum covered sewer floor. Around the corner, from the shadows, watched Icerra.
Only a few weeks passed since she had arrived in Hydlaa for the task of delivering a glyph to her sister. She wasn't able to find Aramara; she found it funny that everyone at the tavern knew her sister well. Instead she ran into Dannae, a guild sister. Dannae was pleasant enough, had brought her to the guildhouse, and gave her a place to stay. And that guildhouse! It was huge! So this is how Aramara has been living. "There are quite a lot of us," Dannae explained, "but only a few are around now." Icerra stayed the night, but was restless the next morning. She left the glyph in a sack on a table and walked out the front door.
The air was fresh and sweet, unlike the dusty air back home. The light of the crystal was brighter here, the colors more vivid. They danced on the backs of her eyes as her ears took in the birds and varied small creatures chirp and whirl in the foliage. She suddenly thought of something when she turned quickly around and tested the door handle. Locked. Damn!
A stone skittered across the courtyard. She watched as it came to a stop. Her foot stung a little. Hmm, heavier than I thought. She went walking through the shady grass to cool her feet. Someone ran in through the gate and across the courtyard below. She watched. She followed.
He led her down the streets into the Plaza. She was stunned by its openness and clung to the outskirts. She picked people at random to follow, staying far behind enough as not to be seen. She saw a young klyros dash away from the blacksmith with swords in hand and behind some buildings. Interesting.
She followed the klyros into the sewers. She began testing her strength against the giant one-eyed rats. With her bare claws and teeth she hunted them. She found that the guard by the gate outside was willing enough to teach her some combat skills for the right amount of tria. She had gone hunting with her father before. She knew the value of animal parts.
Her bag was full, and had grown heavy on her shoulders. She had been following this Nolthrir hoping that she would lead the way out, but now Icerra saw her in a new light. She waited until the Nolthrir stopped to refresh herself with some drink and was temporarily disarmed to carefully walk up behind her. She cleared her throat.
Her name was Arjaya. Ended up she was a guildmate of her sister. She didn't want to buy anything, but pointed Icerra in the direction of the tavern, where the girl behind the bar would surely buy the rat parts from her. Arjaya wondered what Allelia did with all those animal parts anyways.
The tavern! Why hadn't she thought of it sooner? The perfect place to steal a drink. She could sit in the shadows of a corner and watch the people come in and go out. She could watch and see who had money and who did not, who she could get to buy something and who she could not.
The tavern was empty except for two enkidukai and a klyros. Icerra walked straight up to the bar and threw her sack of rat parts onto the counter. "I heard you pay for this stuff."
Icerra stood nervously still as, from the corner of her eye, she noticed the klyros approaching her.
"Excuse me sister akkaio."
"Yeah?"
"I noticed your injuries. May I heal them sister?"
She looked down at herself.
"You do that kinda stuff?"
The other two enkidukai were watching from opposite sides of the room.
"Yes, I am a healer"
"What kind of healer are you, magic?"
"The way of the crystal"
Icerra flinched, "Ok, do your worst."
With a flash of light, the klyros healed the wounds she had sustained in the sewers. Icerra opened her eyes and looked down at herself.
"You are faring at full health now."
"...yeah"
"Thank you sister."
"Why are you thanking me?"
"I can never impose my will on any one, yet i still want to help those who I can, and I am thankful when I can. What is it that you seek, sister?"
Took out some of the coins she had just earned from the rat parts and held them out towards the klyros healer.
"I do not require payment."
Icerra flicked a coin at the klyros, "Why not? You did all the work."
From outside, a familiar voice shoted, "Red Crystal Den is open!" The male Enkidukai standing on the stairs mumbled to himself, "Hmm... Good," and walked out the door.
The klyros handed the coin back to Icerra. Icerra took it but looked the klyros straight in the eyes, "People used to pay my mother all the time."
"Charging for life is wrong."
"You didn't charge me, but I want to pay you."
"I still have reservations about payment."
Icerra frowned, "Fine then, what if I buy you a drink?"
"I do not partake in alcohol"
Icerra frowned again.
"Thank you for your hospitality"
"Yeah yeah..."
Her name was Asora. Arjaya had mentioned something about the Red Crystal Den and Aramara sometimes being there. Asora offered to lead the way.
***
By the cool clear waters of the Hydlaa Plaza fountain, Aramara awoke from her meditation. Her sister was on her way to the Den. She stood. She would get there before Icerra and meet her there.
***
"Listen, my sister is a priestess or something. You should come in, you might like her. Consider it my payment."
"Thank you. I will honor your request."
"If she's not there, I'll give you that circle."
***
Aramara lifted the chalice to her lips and lazily rested her eyes on the door. It opened. A strange klyros walked through, followed by a young and an unwashed fenki.
***
Icerra opened the door and followed the klyros through. At the bar talking to a blind menki about cookies was Dannae. The two enkidukai from the tavern before were also there. At a corner table by the stage, sipping on a glass of wine and with deep blue eyes fixed directly on her, was Aramara.
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ooooh... *happy shivers* I love reading about Icerra, and I've loved meeting her too! You've got such skill with your different characters.
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The wind blows over the earth;
The image of contemplation.
-The Book of Changes
It was the month of Ylaaren, and the cold air began to seep through the cracks and fissures along the Dome roof from the dark into the light. Warm, moist air from the lower levels began to rise, pushing the cool air down. As the two air masses mixed and swirled, a gentle breeze tickled the petals of a Charmflower patch near some ancient ruins on the uppermost level. Tall grasses swayed and bowed in reverence to the wind. The cool air carried on it's back the fragrances of grasses and flowers to the edge of the Dome and plummeted, spiraled down the rising columns of warm, moist air.
One level below, a male Kore Enkidukai stopped for a moment to watch as the wind rustled through the bamboo forest canopy. He lifted his head and held his whiskers close to his face, breathing deep the air. Distant, Charmflower. He smiled and watched the kaleidoscope of crystalight and shadow play through the treetops. He felt a slight tug on his pant leg and calmly glanced downward, his gaze resting on the curious, big-eyed face of his youngest daughter. The black and white markings of her fur echoed the play of light cascading from above as her big blue eyes staring up and him reflected the light of the crystal.
"Papa, look what I found!" She held her paws up to him, holding a big shiny, black and iridescent beetle.
"Oh what a find Icerra" he said, encouragingly.
"Can I keep it?"
"If you can hold onto it until we get home, then sure, my darling, you can keep it."
Icerra lowered her paws below her head and giggled as she poked the beetle and watched it flutter it's wings.
"Treat him nice and he will be your friend."
"She, Papa, this is a mommy bug"
"Ah, I should have known, how smart you are Icerra"
Icerra cupped her paws around the beetle so that it wouldn't escape. If she made it home, she could keep it. Papa just said. The beetle tickled her paw as it struggled to make it's escape. She giggled again.
She was six cycles old, and this was the first time he had brought her along on one of his excursions. They lived in a small farming village, and there was much wilderness to explore, and exploring was his profession. He knew his way through the wilds, but the land was always changing, always revealing new things waiting to be discovered. Some local farmers were complaining about their crops being destroyed and had hired him to track down the creature culprits. A simple job, they had found a set of trepor tracks in the fields, which had led them here to this bamboo grove. His eldest daughter, Aramara, who had frequented along on past explorations and had grown rather adept at tracking was somewhere along ahead, past the thicket of bamboo and brambles. He called out to her. No answer. Nothing. Silence.
Another breeze flowed through the thicket, carrying with it the essence of distant lands, the breath of the Gods. He heard the rustling leaves, felt the air move across his fur and whiskers; a chill ran through his body. There was a new scent on the wind, thick and pungent, unmistakable, trepors, and behind that foul odor, almost masked by it, another, fainter, softer, blood, enkidukai, young.
Icerra had her full attention on her captive beetle when she bumped into the back of her father's leg. She looked up and saw his body rigid, head slightly upturned, short shallow breaths taking in the scent in the air.
"Papa?"
Without warning, Icerra felt her fathers large paw grip her by the arm. The world became a sudden blur. They were running through the forest, faster than her eyes and feet could keep up. She stumbled, fell. She felt her father's grip tighten hard around her arm as he pulled her arm and swung her onto his shoulder. She screamed, short and high pitched. He didn't hesitate; he pushed his way through the tangled undergrowth. Icerra let slip her hold on her beetle, and watched it fall and disappear into the detritus of the forest floor. She twisted her body to tell her father, but before she could, they ran into a clearing and came to an abrupt and complete stop.
She stared into his face. His eyes fixed forward, wide and dilated. His breathing was hard and fast. He betrayed no emotion, only intensity. She turned to look at what he was staring at and saw her, her sister laying on the forest floor, covered in blood.
***
Icerra slowly became conscious of the pounding in her skull, the ringing in her ears. Slowly and with much effort she opened her eyes. The tavern was dark, cold, empty. She waited for the dark shapes to take focus before lifting her head. She felt as if her body weighed a ton. There was a noise, kinckling of glass, movement, a shifting of weight. Someone else was there. Icerra groaned.
A chuckle and a figure stepped out of the shadows. It was the Dermorian bar girl, holding empty mugs in one hand and a cloth in the other. She smiled almost mockingly, almost with compassion at Icerra.
"Impressive!" she said, "I didn't think such a young fenki could keep up with those boys. I thought I'd just let you sleep it of here; I've carried enough drunks up those stairs."
She motioned with her head the stairs twisting upwards behind her in the dark. "Don't mind me, I'm just cleaning up. Sure was a wild night, huh?"
Icerra groaned again and picked herself up off the floor. She grabbed the edge of the nearest table, desperate to find her balance. She stood groggily for a moment, waiting for the room to stop spinning. She took a hesitant step forward and felt something squish up between her toes. Slowly she closed her eyes and opened them. She looked down, a smushed rat eye under her foot. She felt sick.
Allelia helped her stumble to the front door. She coughed up a thanks and stepped into the cool night air. Gathering her senses, she took in her surroundings and shuffled through the dark empty city streets. A longing drove her forward, towards the only safe place she knew in this strange town. She found herself standing at the door of her sister's guildhouse, tears in her eyes. She tried the handle, locked. Without control she cried out. She banged on the door and cried her sister's name. No answer. Nothing. Silence. Weeping, Icerra collapsed on the doorstep. She pulled forth her pack, full of rat fur no one would buy. A cool wind blew over her, chilling her to the bone. She lay down her head and cried herself to sleep.
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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.
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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.
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I usually dont have time to read many of these stories, but Im glad I did today. This is GREAT writing \\o//
Keep it up
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I can only aspire to write as well as you do Aramara. You have shown the way!
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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."
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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.
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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!
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This title is misleading.
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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?
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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)
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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!
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a Demorian buffoon who tripped and fell as he walked through the tavern door
/me grins, his teeth biting into his bottom lip, "Ah got ta be in yer nas story? Thank ya!"
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Every chapter leaves me eager for the next. Fantastic, captivating writing.
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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. \\o//
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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.
-
That's the end for 'Part 1' of the series. I'm going to go back and do A LOT of editing in the previous installments, as (you've might of guessed it) I pretty much was making it up as I went along :P :whistling:
So, for continuity's sake, some changes need to be made before any more of the story can be told. That being said, after writing all of this and playing these two characters for a while, I have a very good idea of where the story is going next, who the old fenki in the DR was, who sent Jaxon after Aramara and why, what's the source behind Ara's pyromantic powers, how did Ara end up in Hydlaa and why, and how did Ara become such a devout follower of Xiosia. All of that will be explained in the second Act, so if you've enjoyed it so far, I implore you keep reading.
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"Splitting Apart. It does not further one to go anywhere."
-The Book of Changes
Father Akame was jostled awake as his wagon bounced over the ruts in the road. He made a low grunt and lightly tapped each cheek twice with his fingertips in a misconstrued attempt to keep his eyes open. It didn't matter, he thought smugly to himself, good Ol' Blue, his trusty rivnak, was smart enough to stick to the road, and lazy enough not to move at a pace faster than an evening's stroll. The good priest smacked his lips and reached for his canteen from underneath the wagon bench. He brought it to his lips and drank thirstily. With a satisfied "Aah", he settled back into his robes and took in the surrounding countryside.
The crystal was shining at its brightest; the Summer's heat oppressive in the open fields of the Barn. The season's crop of wheat was near ready for harvest, the wind creating patterns of golden waves as it swept across the fields. It's a wonder, the dermorian priest thought, how these enkidukai could produce such a bountiful harvest even with this years drought. He was not used to the summer crystal's heat, as he spent his days in prayer and isolation in the forested mountains outside of town.
As a Priest of Xiosia, his life was a simple one, of peace and balance. He kept to himself in a small hermitage which consisted of a living apartment, a small chapel, and a vineyard were he grew terrevan berries. Occasionally he had visitors, faithful from the surrounding countryside, who came to him for teachings, guidance, or for prayer. His guests would often bring him food and supplies in exchange. Every several days he tried to make trips into the outlying villages, to greet the masses and to offer help to those in need. His was a humble existence, no need for airs and pageantry, just service to the Great Mother and all her children.
This trip, however, had its own unique purpose. An old friend and former student of his had appealed to him to take in her eldest daughter as a student. He knew the child and her family well; it was only a few years ago the child had emerged from a brush with death only to remain mute and rather unresponsive to the world. It was then he had been called to their house to pray over the young girl, to bring the passion of life back into her body. His attempts had failed. Now, it seemed, the girl had regained her vigor and speech, but a new problem had arisen; an attempt had been made to capture her.
The news had travelled fast, as it tends to do in small towns. The story was told how the fenki girl and her sister had been out camping when they were attacked by an avid Azure Way mage. It seemed the younger sister had acted valiantly and attacked the mage, destroying his mind by throwing the glyph he was psychically linked to into a fire. What a way to go, thought the good priest. The mage was dermorian, like himself, but was dressed in strange, fine clothes. It was obvious he had come from distant lands. Something about it didn't sit right with the priest; why would an advanced mage travel far distances to kidnap a poor young fenki child? Perhaps it was the same uneasy feeling that had prompted her mother to ask him to take her in.
Rivnak, cart, and driver meandered into town without much notice. The summer's heat had driven much of the townsfolk inside. Father Akame took note of the squat, round houses, made of thick walls of mud brick. It wasn't that he found this type of architecture distasteful, but it contrasted with his elven sensibilities. He preferred lofty wooden structures set in the shades of the forest. Yet, he understood how the earthen walls kept out the crystal's heat, providing a cool reprise for these hard working agrarian people.
He drove the cart through the dusty streets and came upon the healer's home, pulling up along side it. The sweet and spicy fragrances of the herb garden mixed with the warm air, wafting up to his nostrils and invigorating him from after the day's journey. He pulled from his canteen, cleared his throat, and called out, "Tacutsi, my child! Hail Xiosia! I am arrived!"
The dry red earth crumbled beneath his feet as he climbed down from the cart. The stiffness in his legs shot up his spine and he took the time to slowly straighten himself out. He placed his hands flat on his lower back and arched in an overextension, his spine aligning itself in a series of pops. He stood in idle recovery of newly released tension, contemplating the pink blossoms of a nearby tree, when the heavy wooden door to the healer's home opened inward.
A small fuzzy head poked out, silvery white with black markings, the younger of the two daughters, he remembered. He smiled with warmth and friendliness, as her azure eyes caught sight of him. Her head briskly withdrew back in doors, and he heard the familiar childhood alarm, "MoooOOOthERRR! There's somebody here!"
The good father stood patiently in the yard, pulling at the sleeves of his white robes, trying to look at least presentable. The heavy door opened fully, and within it's frame stood Tacutsi, the local healer of these parts.
She beamed, "Father Akame, how good to see you. Welcome in. Are you well?"
The priest returned the smile automatically. Tacutsi was among Xiosia's faithful and a former student; their friendship ran deep. He crossed the yard and accepted her invitation within. He placed a hand upon her shoulder as he crossed the threshold, "I am well child. The journey was pleasant enough, but I can stand to withdraw from this heat."
"Please, have a seat."
The good father found comfort on one of the silken pillows lain about a low circular table. Tacutsi rushed to the kitchen area and returned with a tray full of fresh fruit and cheeses, drizzled with golden honey.
"Girls!" She cried out in a motherly terseness, "Come say hello to Father Akame."
From the offices adjacent to the main home, the two young fenkis timidly emerged. Father Akame licked his fingers and smiled at them, "Ah, Aramara, you grow as beautiful as your mother more and more each time I see you, and Icerra, I can see you have gained your father's strength."
Icerra guffawed with pride at this flattery, while Aramara bowed her head in modesty, which made her appear like her mother even more. "Thank you Father, I hope you are well."
"Ah, it is good to hear you have your voice back Aramara. I was afraid our conversations were going to be one sided."
Father Akame chuckled lightly at his own joke, but the young fenki did not appear amused. Instead her eyes betrayed a hint of sadness as she looked at him, an expression he would grow used to over time, and only fully understand once it was too late.
"Aramara," her mother broke the silence, "Why don't you go gather your things while Father Akame rests from his journey."
The young akkaio bowed her head and began collecting her few personal items in silent obedience. Her sister bounded over to the table where Father Akame sat and grinned at him, her bright eyes expecting one of the tales of adventure he was fond of telling.
The good priest told Icerra of a proud fenki warrior princess, much like herself, who was out hunting one day when she came upon a giant jade rabbit. She chased the rabbit king through field and forest, across mighty rivers and over the tallest mountains until she had him cornered in a deep canyon. The rabbit king spoke to the huntress, "You have bested me in this hunt, but I am the King of Rabbits, and I hold great power. I can grant you life immortal if you choose to spare mine." The warrior princess took the Rabbit King up on his proposal, and he lifted her up all the way to the stone sky, where they live in eternity, watching the remaining mortals live out their lives below.
"What's a rabbit?" Icerra asked as Father Akame finished his tale.
He sat scratching his head, for he didn't know either. "Umm, well you see, it's a small furry animal, that hops around and, uhhh, has long floppy ears."
Icerra rolled on the floor laughing at the absurdity of such a creature. The dermorian cracked a smile, happy that his quick thinking had saved him from embarrassment. It is a shameful thing for an adult to not be able to answer a child's simple question.
By the time he had finished relating his tale, the crystal had begun to wane, and Aramara had finished gathering her belongings. Tacutsi had packed some a meal for them to take on the return journey, dried fruit and fish, bread and cheese. Canteens were filled from the cistern and Ol' Blue allowed to drink and graze. Father Akame packed the wagon while Aramara said farewell to her family. He was moved by the close bond they all shared, his heart filled with pride and love. He climbed aboard the wooden wagon and offered his hand to lift Aramara up. With tear filled eyes, she nodded solemnly and accepted it, as she had learned to accept fate.
* * *
Aramara strained to peer through the darkness. She was lost in the void of the Death Realm, a scared and frightened child, her only guide the strange old fenki she had met upon her arrival. But, without light, she could not see the way. She could not even see her paws in front of her face. She stood still, shivering, turning her head constantly until she caught a glimpse of her guide, the only light in the void, the glowing embers that were her eyes. She stumbled in their direction, until her guide turned to walk further away. So it went, and so it had gone for Aramara knew not how long. Time had no meaning in the void. She lost her sense of direction again, and again stood motionless, waiting for the two guiding flames to show themselves. In the distance they appeared, and again she made her way toward them, but this time the did not disappear. This time, as she approached, they stood fixed, burning in the dark.
Aramara noticed something else too. Next to the ancient fenki with burning eyes stood a squat little hut, shrouded in the mists of darkness. The ancient fenki stretched out a gnarled bony paw and opened a flap. "Enter," she spoke, her voice like a dry wind.
Aramara ducked inside. She was met with a burning fire with a clay pot sitting on top. "Sit," the dry voice commanded, and Aramara sat, her back against the stretched skins which comprised the walls of the hut. The ancient enki followed her inside and crouched over the pot, lifting its top and stirring the contents inside.
Aramara was met with a sharp odor carried with the steam of the boiling contents. The fenki seemed to be satisfied, as a curl appeared on the corners of her thin lips. She rummaged through a sack of items and pulled out a deep wooden bowl. Quickly, she plunged the bowl into the bubbling cauldron, seemingly unphased by the boiling brew within. With a toothy grin, she offered Aramara the bowl. She cackled, "Here child... drink."
Aramara took the bowl in both paws and looked up at her strange guide with eyes wide, "Wh..what is it?"
The fenki cackled again, the sound of wind blowing through a dead and hollow log, "Dear child, drink this and you will be shown the way back to your living world."
Aramara objected, "B... but, y.. you said..."
The flames in the fenkis eyes flared, "Drink!" she growled.
Aramara gulped in fear. Here she had followed this crooked and bent old fenki into an endless, deep well of darkness, was trapped in her hut, she saw no other option. She shut her eyes and crinkled her face as she lifted the bowl to her lips. The brew was sharp, hot and bitter.
"Drink all of it," her guide commanded. Aramara paused after her initial sip, then forced herself to drink the entire bowl.
The ancient fenki cackled loudly. She withdrew the pot from the fire, and replaced it with a bundle of dried herbs. The flames flares as the herbs caught fire, filling the small hut with a fragrant smoke. Aramara had flashes of her home, the scent of her mother. The fenki continued to cackle as she opened the flap of the hut and made her exit.
"Wait!" young Aramara cried out, and tried to lift herself up to follow, but suddenly felt her body grow unusually heavy. Her words seemed to hang in the air in front of her, mixing and swirling in the thick smoke. "Wait..." she repeated weakly.
A tingling sensation came over her. It seemed to start at the tip of her tail but it soon spread over her entire body. Her body began to vibrate at a high frequency. She felt warm, full of electricity. She lay back amongst the furs.
Strange lights began to dance amongst the smoke. Bright, vibrant colors would pop and disappear. The lights grew in number, popping in and out of existence before her. Soon the walls of the hut began to melt away into the black void beyond. Aramara found herself alone with the fire and the dancing lights.
The fire too began to dance and flash with color. It's hue changed from red, to purple, to blue to green. The colors began to flash so quickly that they blended into a brilliant white light. The flames lifted themselves from the ground and danced before her. Aramara heard her own voice echoing infinitely in all directions, "Wait!.... wait..... Wait!.... wait...."
Suddenly the fire erupted into a searing red and white inferno. Aramara stared into its depths. There were figures dancing within, living, burning skeletons. They leapt from within the flames and grabbed her, tearing off her flesh piece by piece, bit by bit. Aramara watched helplessly, somewhat amused as her body was reduced to a pile of ash. Somehow she was now floating above the whole scene, watching her body be destroyed by the flames.
Without her body, Aramara's senses all became one. The void of darkness was now filled with light, echoes of the flashing fire. Patterns of vibrant color radiated infinitely outwards in all dimension. Faces, eyes, mouths formed within the pulsating patterns, beaming love and warmth down upon her. The choir of infinite voices, her voice, chimed and reverberated, blended together in electric motor hum. The sharp bitter taste of the potion became swirling points of yellow light, the sweet smell of herb smoke was the warmth and glow surrounding her. She had become Spirit, was surrounded by Spirit, dwelt in the bosom of the Spirit Realm. The Fire Spirit before her announced her coming, became her guide, asked her simply, "What is it you want to know?"
"I want to know the way back to Life," she replied.
The fire now floated between her vision and the pile of ashes that was her former self. The flames began to form themselves into the shape of her old body, the form of the young fenki she used to be. Her ashes began to rise and form around the flames, creating a new body, a new vessel for her Spirit in the image of her old. When the formation of the new body was complete, Aramara felt herself drawn into it by the flames within. She entered in through the eyes, saw the light and felt the warmth of the Fire Spirit who now shared her body with her. What Aramara felt was love, completion. A voice, her own voice emerged from within, "I am." Aramara opened her eyes.
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The first thing that comes to my mind is WOW Aramara! Incredibly good stuff here. Why haven't you written a novel yet?
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hehe, ummm... considering this thread has been the most i've ever written on a single subject... ever.
i don't know, i have quite a few stories that i've started, written maybe half a chapter and then abandoned. I had a friend look through some the other night, and she was really impressed, offered to edit what i had already. As with most creative endeavors, it's hard to pursue without outside encouragement, and that is hard to get when you keep everything you've written to yourself.
playing this game though has been a breakthrough for me. it allows me to enter into the role of these characters, which makes it all that much easier to write about them. not to mention the best supporting cast a fenki can ask for ;)
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The light has sunk into the earth:
The image of wounding the bright
-The Book of Changes
The rogue emptied his bladder on the sewer wall. Had he been paying more careful attention, or perhaps a little less intoxicated, he would have noticed the splashing of frantically rushed footsteps approaching from the septic waters behind him. But as fate would have it, he and his rogue companions had spent the day celebrating the lifting of a shipment of terrevan berry wine by drinking all of it. His dulled senses and duller mind were fixated on the physical relief of urination and the raucous jokes he and his companions had told, not on the mixed echoes of whimpers, moans and hisses reverberating through the subterranean tunnels. It was because of this that the last thing to enter into the rogue's mind was the hoarse, tear stained cry of a young fenki, "I AM BETTER THAN HER!" before the deadly curve of her steel falchion sliced neatly through his skull.
* * *
The morning was crisp when Icerra awoke, dew in the grass and the light mist of fog still hung in the air. The Crystal was just beginning its wax, it's energy yet to burn off the early morning moisture. The young fenki yawned and uncurled from the tight ball of sleep, rolled in the grass and lay outstretched watching the dim light of morning trickle through the canopy of leaves above. Closing her eyes, she focused her senses on the noises and odors of the now familiar city. On the hill above, the tavern was preparing breakfast.
Icerra's stomach rumbled at the scent of egg and meat omelets on the woodfire stove, and she quickly sprang to her feet and took off out of the small courtyard and up the stairs towards Kada El's. Allelia greeted her warmly at the door and fixed her a plate. Icerra ate it down quick and tossed the barmaid a coin and returned to the waking town.
She found a perch on the roof above the courtyard in which she slept, one of her usual spots, and watched the people bustling through the plaza below. A familiar face near the fountain caught her eye; it was Kelan, the birdwatching elf she met at Kada's, who Miomai later scared off and told her he was trying to steal her fur. Her typical fenki curiosity got the best of her and she had to confront him. With agile grace and steady feet she jumped from rooftop to fence, from fence to the ground below and sprinted across the open plaza to face him.
Icerra ran up to him and shouted, "Hey!"
The elf stopped short, startled by the sudden approach, "Hi Icerra."
Icerra looked at Kelan from beneath her oversized helm, trying to size him up in case he really did mean to do her harm. The elf was small and pathetic, she thought, what harm could he possibly do? "You want to talk to me?"
Kelan looked around nervously, "Is Miomai here?"
The mention of the clamod's name agitated Icerra. Miomai scared him off with her daggers drawn last time they met. What did this fool want with that corpse? "Miomai? nah. You lookin' fer her?"
The elf breathed a sigh of relief, "Good, she is not very polite to me. I dont want to see her!"
Icerra tilted her head back, "Yeah, I bet. She told me why she ain't polite"
This peaked the elf's interest, "She told you? Eh, wat did she say?"
Icerra took a big step forward and placed an armored paw on Kelan's chest, giving him a shove, "She said you want my fur. That's what you want from me?" Her voice grew demanding as she confronted the dermorian on the truth.
Kelan took a step back and shook his head shocked, "No, i want to talk to you about last time in the tavern"
Icerra looked at Kelan sideways with skepticism, "What about it?"
About the bet you two had about me.
The bet hadn't been about him in particular. The bet had been over who could "get a man" as Miomai had so eloquently put it. But Icerra had smarts, and she wasn't about to give away such information. The kore fenki with deep blue eyes hidden in the shadows of an oversized helm lifted her chin, "Who said anything about a bet?"
Kelan began to grow upset, "Miomai said it. I should kiss your boots. She said it!"
Icerra couldn't help but laugh hysterically. It was true. Miomai had summoned Kelan to the tavern to see if he would kiss her boot. The hilarity of the moment wasn't lost on the fenki and she broke her threatening composure, "HAHA! Yeah, so why didn't you kiss her boot?"
Kelan was confused " Why do you laugh? I dont like this"
She continued to laugh, unsympathetic to Kelan's feelings, "Because it's funny!"
Kelan frowned in anger "I didnt kiss her boots. And I never kiss her boots!"
Icerra continued to chuckle and took notice of how upset the dermorian had grown in the course of conversation. Cruel as she was, she teased onward, "You kiss anybody's boot?"
Kelan looked as if he was about to cry. With watery eyes he looked at the fenki before him, standing victorious in ill-fitted armor, " No, I think I thought wrong about you"
Icerra tilted her head back and stared down at Kelan from beneath her helm, her laughter suddenly gone, her fierce composure regained, "Whadchoo think about me?"
"I told Miomai that I would like you better then her . And now she hates me. But now I think you are not better than she is." Kelan looked to the ground and turned to go away.
No better than her? No better than Miomai? Icerra stomped her foot on the ground, paws outsteched claws showing, a deep seeded rage long buried broke ground, blossoming fully in anger and hate. She screamed after the elf in full pitch, "I AM BETTER THAN HER!!!!"
Icerra fumed. Kelan stopped in his retreat, turned on his heel and drove the point further, "Hm, but you like to hurt others the same like Miomai does!"
Icerra grabbed a falchion from off her hip and pointed it steadily at Kelan, "You better get out here before I hurt YOU!"
Kelan lowered his head " I will do, but I hoped you were a good one!"
Icerra hissed at the pathetic elf and took off for the sewers, looking for something to kill.
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It is fun to watch how the effects of ones actions spread out like waves on a pond, touching lives and changing them. In terms of causing chaos, Miomai could hardly be happier (if she knew).
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she knows now! (sorta)
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/me dips her head in respect to your amazing writing talents.
Glad I finally got around to reading it!
[It gave me a reason to procrastinate some more... <_<]
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O.O you read all... what am I up to now? 8 entries? in one sitting? impressive. I'm very glad you liked it. :)
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/me may or may not read at a rate similar to a gerbil hyped up on caffiene running round and round in it's little spinny wheel <_<
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http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CCzsEgUcWfU (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CCzsEgUcWfU)
*Aramara may or may not have been referring to the observation that in the current days of facebook and twitter, most folks lack the patience to read anything over 140 characters :P
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It's true, it's true, and so very sad...
Also...
KEVIN! NOOOOOOO!!!!!!
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This is Mariana we're talking about, who can hardly write a single line of RP in only 140 characters.
And while talking about reading speed, Miomai reads like a cat recovering from pentobarb.
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found little spare moments at work to play around with the internets, made a word cloud out of this series so far.
http://www.wordle.net/show/wrdl/4076052/Enter_Icerra