inherit
56
0
0
WingDing Gaster
DARK DARKER YET DARKER
9
June 2016
shyleviathan
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Post by WingDing Gaster on Jul 6, 2016 3:06:14 GMT
It was barely dawn.
The sun had not yet risen to meet the horizon, and Udel’s blanketed sky of stars was beginning its usual departure. Soon, Svitani’s call would awaken the sleeping populace to greet the day, and Etirath would stir and come alive. But that time had not yet come.
A languid fog rolled lazily into the temple’s surrounding gardens. Aside from the sound of the occasional breeze rustling the leaves and the waterfalls’ chorus of crashing water, it was quiet. Under normal circumstances, the only audience to the gentle music of early day would consist of the animals of the night, as they were preparing to rest for the coming dawn, and the guards that were stationed just at the Temple’s entrance. But on this particular morning, it had at least one other eager listener.
As Grey made her way through the garden, soft blades of grass would brush up against her bare feet and leave gentle kisses of their sparkling morning dew. The hem of her gown trailed behind her footfalls, picking up more dew and becoming soaked, but Grey seemed to be unbothered by this, if she were even aware.
What little light the breaking dawn had to offer reflected magnificently off of the dwarf maiden’s white gown. The fabric itself was thin and loose, with a matching bow tied tightly around the waist. Her hair was let down, with a flowery headwrap to keep it all in one place. Daisies adorned random patches of her hair. She might have been beautiful, in her own way, had anyone been there to witness her.
The priestess of Milova travelled deep into the garden, stopping occasionally to admire the flora. She did not seem to have a particular path in mind, which was made clear by the randomness behind her choice of direction. One of her chosen paths led her to a small, enclosed clearing. Deciding that this would be an excellent place to stop for a short time, Grey sat at the base of a tree and let out a content sigh. Blinking slowly, she closed her eyes and began to take in the peaceful energy that the early morning had to offer. She was calm, and she felt safe, and so she began to let her mind drift. It was so quiet and peaceful in that garden; so quiet, in fact, that the fretful kitten meowing at Grey startled her from her daydreaming. She had not noticed it approach.
“Oh my,” she exclaimed, smiling at the young creature before scooping it up into her hands and brushing its cheek with her thumb. “And what brings you here, little one?”
Flashes of images rushed through Grey’s mind. Nodding, she held the kitten closer in her arms. “I see. Well, I suppose it cannot be helped. The world works in such strange, and even unfair, ways. But you wouldn’t know that yet, would you my sweet? Your wittle bwain hasn’t experienced enough of the world to understand these things.” Grey gave the kitten a gentle kiss on its ear, cuddling it. “Worry not, innocent one. We shall find you a new mother, then, in the meantime.” The kitten meowed once more. Grey nodded again, stroking the kitten gently. “I would love to, but I would be an unfit mother for you. I am always out and about; no time to care for a kitten. Besides, you need a real family. It would be unfair for you to grow up in a small little temple with no one to play with.
“Now then, just sit tight. I’ll see what I can do,” she said, placing the kitten in her lap. Taking in a deep breath, Grey began to sing. It was a song without words, and it had only a few notes. Despite her stout and short size, her voice was surprisingly loud enough to be heard by the entirety of the garden and all of its inhabitants. Soon, a small crowd of animals began to approach her. Deer, birds, wolves, rabbits, skunks, raccoons and an assortment of other animals circled around Grey and the small kitten. When Grey’s song stopped, the kitten began to meow once more.
“Well of course you’re cold,” Grey spoke, taking the hem of her gown and drying the kitten with it. “You’re soaking wet.”
After drying the kitten to the best of her abilities, Grey looked up to address the crowd of animals that have gathered in that small clearing.
“Good morning,” Grey smiled. “Would anyone, by chance, be able to take in this kitten? She is in need of a family; she was separated from hers.”
Immediately some of the animals began to leave, such as the deer and the birds. But others stayed behind, and approached Grey and the kitten.
“I see,” said Grey, turning to face the rabbit. “Well, I appreciate your consideration.”
As more of the animals began to leave, Grey asked once more. “Anyone?”
A skunk shyly approached Grey. It chirped, lifting its tail to reveal three skunk kits trailing behind. Grey gasped, delighted. “Oh, could you? That would be ever so kind of you!” With a pleased grin, Grey turned toward the kitten in her arms. “Go on, then. With the skunk. She has room for another kit. Or, rather, kitten.”
Before the kitten left, Grey lifted it to her lips and kissed it once more, before setting it on the ground and watching it approach its new family with shaking, unsteady wobbles. When it was close enough, the skunk mother reached and collected the kitten by the back of its neck with her mouth, before disappearing into the woods with her children.
Satisfied, Grey sighed again and sat back. Many of the animals stayed, and flocked to Grey. The dwarf absentmindedly stroked the back of the animal that had just landed on her lap, her mind lost in thought. The sun was slowly rising, and soon the fog would lift. She couldn’t wait to feel the warm sun on her skin.
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#ed1717
2
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1
5
Annasiel
At last, my peace. I found it in her eyes.
369
Aug 13, 2015 22:40:06 GMT
August 2015
annasiel
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Post by Annasiel on Jul 6, 2016 3:51:09 GMT
"You have a kind heart, young one," a soft wisp of a voice called from over a garden wall. From behind the shrubbery hedge, a waifish girl appeared, no older than twenty. Draped over her shoulders she wore a simple stole, hanging down to the hem of her plain cotton dress. She was, in appearance, utterly extraordinary. Some merchant's daughter or noble's chambermaid, maybe. But the way she held herself belied any such assumptions, with the courtly elegance and poise of royalty itself. As she walked through the dim dawning light, a luminescence flickered in her eyes, a pale brilliance untied to the cresting sun. The flash was only there for a moment, then she blinked, then it was gone.
The graceful newcomer paced alongside Grey, running her hands through the nearby foliage in a rustling wave. She turned to the dwarven priestess with a wide, warm smile, gently picking a flower from one of the wild vines that grew unfettered through the green. She approached with the pink and violet blossom, neatly tucking it behind the other's ear. Already her energies were turning, lightly tapping at the surface for thoughts of prominence, thoughts of importance, thoughts easy to gleam without drawing attention to the subtle intrusions. Morgne, for it was she, let her fingers slide across Grey's cheek as she withdrew.
"I'm certain he would be proud of you, dear. I can feel the warmth from here, like I'm basking in the hearth of tenderness." The queen beamed wider, her eyes crinkling with joy. "Love of others, love of all, love of self. I think I sense purpose in you, purpose towards a greater cause than you could ever hope to serve." She bowed her head.
"Alas, I am an aging woman who has lost her own purpose in life. I envy your dedication to simplicity, and the beautiful burden you might come to uphold," she continued, folding her hands at her hips. "It's certainly a gorgeous thing to see, as gorgeous as the world around us. Ah! But how tactless of me, I have not introduced myself." She curtsied curtly, tugging at the edges of her dress before returning to the folded, somber pose.
"I am Sylvia. I am... a priestess or oracle of sorts, I suppose. And you are... Greiah? Is that your name?" It was a stretch at most, nothing more than an echo of an echo's call. Names might hold strong in people's minds, but in souls, emotions and the memories they held were strongest to relate. It helped that this woman was naive, the give of her either yielding and soft to Morgne's touch. "Whether or not it be, I know it is you I seek, and you alone. I do not know you by your name, but by your soul."
And this soul... this soul contained a power Morgne saw sparingly. The same magic that coursed through her own veins, albeit a hundredfold less potent. The dwarf was an auramancer.
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inherit
56
0
0
WingDing Gaster
DARK DARKER YET DARKER
9
June 2016
shyleviathan
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Post by WingDing Gaster on Jul 6, 2016 6:40:57 GMT
A soft, gentle voice lulled Grey out of her daydream. The animals that had previously been relaxing with her scampered and fled, leaving her alone with the stranger. Startled, Grey sat up and scanned her surroundings for the source of the voice. She thought about calling out, but held her tongue when she spotted the figure emerge from behind the hedge. How wonderful! Grey thought, greeting the stranger with a friendly smile. She reveled in the chance at getting to know someone new.
“Oh, hello!” Grey smiled at the stranger as she approached. The woman was, admittedly, very beautiful. Of course, Grey found beauty in every individual, but there was something about this one in particular that made her want to become close. Perhaps they were destined to meet? Grey smiled, clearly amused at the idea. Whatever the case, she was excited to get to know this person.
With a wave of her hand, she invited the stranger to come and sit with her. Rather than immediately make her way to Grey, however, the stranger instead made her way to a bush, ripe with blooming flowers. Grey watched with eager curiosity as the stranger plucked a flower from the foliage, and then approached her with it. A pleased, grateful smile came to Grey’s lips when the stranger gifted her the flower, and she felt an innocent giggle escape when the kindly woman momentarily caressed her face.
All was pleasant, until the woman spoke once more.
”I’m certain he would be proud of you, dear.”
He? He who? The only “he” in her life that anyone on the surface would know about was Idolan Bell, her late friend and tutor. Grey’s smile faded as she stared into the eyes of the stranger, looking for an answer. Was it possible that she had confused Grey for someone else? Before Grey had the chance to speak and inform the stranger of her mistake, the woman spoke once more. Grey listened to all that the stranger had to say with a patient smile, saving her confusion for later. When the woman finally introduced herself, Grey offered her a warming smile. “You were very close. I am Grey. It is a pleasure to meet you, Sylvia.”
Questions were burning in Grey’s mind. ”Do I know you?” she wished so badly to ask, but she felt it unnecessary. The woman just introduced herself, and she clearly did not know Grey that much at all if she couldn’t get her name right. But, at the same time, this woman more about her than anyone else. Was this the result of magic?
Ah! Yes, of course, Grey thought, her realization becoming visible on her face. Auramancy must have been at work here. Her suspicions were confirmed when the woman went on about how she had come to know Grey by her soul, rather than her physical self. How strange that this woman felt it necessary to use auramancy when meeting her for the first time. She could have simply said hello. Isn’t that how it usually works?
Grey decided that it didn’t really matter. She had learned to accept people for who they are, and if this woman, Sylvia, decided that she were more comfortable with getting to know one’s soul before their physical selves, that was fine with Grey. She felt it was a little rude, if nothing else. Perhaps she should ask next time? Invasion of privacy, and all that.
“Perhaps I am destined for some greater purpose,” Grey admitted, “but you speak as though you already know what it is that I am destined for.”
Closing her eyes and setting her head back, Grey drew in a deep breath and let it out in a content sigh. The sun was beginning to shine much more brightly than earlier, and she could feel the warmth of its rays as it came through in patches through the leaves above.
“Come friend,” she said invitingly. “I know that you have come here with a purpose in mind. But I invite you to relax with me. To ease your mind from its routinely thoughts and just…breathe. It’s nice to refresh your mind from the day to day worries and troubles, isn’t it? Or perhaps something much more is weighing on your mind?”
“Whatever the case,” she continued, “I find that this is the best place for me to let go of everything that has me so preoccupied. It’s important to remember yourself once in a while. It’s important to… find peace with who you are.” After a moment of silence, Grey chuckled softly. “I’m sorry,” she laughed, turning to the stranger. “I did not mean to lecture you.” Without admitting it, Grey knew that most of what she had said was likely directed at herself. To find peace with oneself was the most difficult step for her, and still she struggles with loving herself. But she manages to make up for it by loving others twice as much. Or so she says.
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#ed1717
2
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1
5
Annasiel
At last, my peace. I found it in her eyes.
369
Aug 13, 2015 22:40:06 GMT
August 2015
annasiel
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Post by Annasiel on Jul 7, 2016 21:48:13 GMT
"There are doubtless many things on my mind, and doubtless many things that I can never push out of it. I'm not a creature of rest and comfort. I sometimes wish I could find my own peace, but I don't think that's my way in life. I don't think that's my purpose." The dark queen stared ruefully at the sky, as she idly ran her fingers up and down the sides of her arms. They tapped listlessly as they slid, tips careening down the thick fabric in a soft cascade. "Regardless, I am envious of you."
Morgne turned to the other woman, Crossing her restless arms over her chest. She stared for a while, appraising her, before finally speaking again.
"I do not know your destiny," she whispered. "I do, however, know the destiny you are destined to create." At that, she gave a light chuckle. "I suppose that sounds ridiculous and somewhat cryptic. I don't intend it to be, at least, no more than it has to be. I'm merely saying I know you're going to make something great out of your life. And I... I want to help you do that. You already know what I am, don't you? You already know what powers I hold. Tell me, young dwarf. What do you think of that? What do you think of me?"
Her eyes twinkled yet again with the shimmering light. They looked almost like opals, bathed in the light of the Moon itself, reflecting the brilliant ghostly glow back onto the Earth. Mysterious, yes. Powerful, yes. But also very, very dangerous. Not the sort of danger of a criminal or monster, but instead the sort of danger that can present itself in any sort of person, whether good or bad. The danger that might never rear its head, or might be just around the corner.
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inherit
56
0
0
WingDing Gaster
DARK DARKER YET DARKER
9
June 2016
shyleviathan
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Post by WingDing Gaster on Jul 10, 2016 16:46:48 GMT
“You want to help me do something for me, but you won’t try to help you do something for you?” Grey inquired, glancing over at her new friend. “Though I’ve no doubt that you’ve already considered these things before,” she quickly added, reverting her gaze forward once more.
“Nevermind me and what I think,” she continued, shutting her eyes as she propped herself up lazily against the tree. “Although I will tell you that your power matters little to me. Though not in the sense that I am unimpressed.” Slipping her arm out from behind her head, Grey slipped out the flower that was tucked behind her bangs and lifted it to her nose, breathing in its pleasant aroma.
“How do I put this…” she pondered aloud, the flower’s petals lightly tickling her lips. “I know very little about you as a person,” she answered, “your power does not define who you are in my eyes.”
For a moment, she was silent. Unmoving, the she-dwarf sat, content, with a serene and touching demeanor about her. The sound of birds chirping their song of the coming day, and the crashing of water from the waterfalls surrounding them, filled the air.
Then, just as a patch of stormy clouds passed under the sun’s warming rays and dimmed the morning light that previously speckled Grey’s skin, her gaze shifted. Without turning her head, big, child-like eyes snapped into the direction of Morgne’s gaze. The whites of her eyes stuck out the most, with her brown irises and enlarged pupils boring into the woman that sat beside her.
“Power changes people.”
The flower continued to block the view of Grey’s lips, concealing them from plain sight as she spoke.
“How can you ask me what I think of you, when you are not even who you once were?”
As if to emphasize the seriousness of her already grim voice and expression, Grey’s normally pleasant, ever radiating warm aura became…
Silent. And still.
It was like an experienced hunter waiting carefully, staring, unmoving, waiting for the moment to strike.
What was it waiting for?
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#ed1717
2
0
1
5
Annasiel
At last, my peace. I found it in her eyes.
369
Aug 13, 2015 22:40:06 GMT
August 2015
annasiel
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Post by Annasiel on Jul 14, 2016 3:03:20 GMT
Morgne felt her heart begin to quicken in rhythm, but she quickly calmed its insubordinate attempt to race. It wasn't that she was scared. On the contrary, she had full faith she could easily put an end to this dwarf where she stood, no matter what mysteries lay beneath her naive surface. But the sudden shift in the woman's demeanor, the soft sternness of her voice, the calm and quiet and tense vibrations that pulsed in tumultuous waves in a once-calm sea... they were terrifyingly invigorating. Morgne was curious. No, not just curious. She was invigorated.
"No one is who they once were," the queen replied in a slow and cautious tone. "We change every second we live. But I assume that is not what you are referring to." She paused for a moment, deciding what to say next. This conversation had just become much more of a challenge to navigate.
An exciting challenge.
"I am not who I once was. I wear a different face just as one might wear a different set of clothes. I suppose my attempt to garner a first impression was unjust, in this case, as you are not seeing my 'real' self. But does that mean who I am now is fraud?" She laughed, and grinned. "I am not so much a fraud as I am cast in a different color. I am still different, but I am still me, on the inside. And the inside," she touched a finger above Grey's heart, "is what counts, is it not?"
The sorceress doubted this would be enough of a response, but she let it stand, waiting to see which way the river flowed. There was a strange force at work here, and it was smart to make as cautious a play as she dared. If all else failed, a quick retreat could be made.
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inherit
56
0
0
WingDing Gaster
DARK DARKER YET DARKER
9
June 2016
shyleviathan
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Post by WingDing Gaster on Jul 15, 2016 12:00:21 GMT
Grey was certainly no expert in auramancy nor restoration magic, but the strength of both of these forces combined allowed the dwarf to pick up on the change in the sorceress's heartbeat. It was subtle, much like the ripples in a glass of water when placed on a surface near a door that had just been closed. But it revealed to her inexperienced mind the truth that she was searching for.
For as long as the sorceress spoke, Grey remained unmoving, continuing to stare deeply into the soul of the woman, unblinking and with controlled breaths. Her small fingers curled delicately around the stem of the flower; the force with which she exerted to hold the flower was so loose that it was almost bizarre how the plant did not slip out from between her small fingers. It was unnerving to see the loving, tender and gentle Grey stare at the woman beside her with such ferocity and valor. She didn't even flinch when Morgne reached with her finger to Grey's chest, eyeing the woman with wide eyes as she felt the sorceress's extended digit probe into the pink, plushy and freckled skin that concealed her slowly beating heart.
Finally taking her scrutinizing stare off of the sorceress, Grey's jaw worked a little. "Interesting," the she-dwarf softly mused, her brows dipped in a subtle solemnity. She offered no explanation for her strange behavior, instead pretending to focus on the flower that was in her hand. With pursed lips and her eyes narrowed in thought, she twiddled with and rotated the stem between her fingers, absently watching the petals spin. To Morgne, it was surely clear that there was an underlying skepticism within Grey. Meanwhile, thoughts furiously rampaged within the recesses of the dwarf's mind.
"Have you ever tried to look at the world for what it is without your powers?" She lowered the flower, turning her gaze to match the woman's once more. With raised brows, she sat up, leaning forward and crossing her legs. "That is, when was the last time you truly looked around, and accepted the world for how it is given to you?" Shaking her head and letting out a bothered sigh, she tried once more to further explain her inquiry, unsatisfied with how she just asked it.
"Powers, our powers, this 'auramancy', or perhaps all powers now that I think about it; they affects how one perceives the mortal world." Soft, childlike brown eyes lifted towards the sky, admiringly piecing together the broken mosaic pieces of the morning sky through the scattered foliage above them. Slowly, the harsh, intense state that she had built for her soul moments ago melted away, the sunlight giving way to the familiar radiant, pleasant aura that is Grey's soul. "You say that you have not truly changed, but that your soul is merely, as it were, that of someone who donned a different style of dress than usual. That is all well and good, but I offer you this," she said, loosening the tenseness in her back.
"Much like the soul can change its shade, so too can our vision. If I were to put a pair of rose-colored lenses over your eyes, all the world's colors would be meshed into one. The only discernible parts of the world before you would be in the varying shades of objects. The foliage would be slightly darker than, say, this flower. But they would all be the same to you.
"With your perception of depth now altered, in the sense that you have now forced your eyes to focus on the shadows of the world around you in order to get around, life becomes very different. With time, this new rose colored world of shadows becomes familiar to you. 'How lucky am I that I enjoy the color rose,' you might say, and so you opt to never remove the lenses, for you so enjoy the new look of the world.
"Soon, rose becomes all that you know. Rose trees. Rose houses. Rose clouds. Those that insist you remove the lenses, as it has consumed your very idea of what the world is to you, and, by extension, those around you, you retaliate strongly. 'So what if my existence is dyed in this beautiful color?' you might ask them. The world remains very much the same. The sun still blinds, water is still wet, flowers still bloom..'
"Perhaps you should try it,' you say to them. Or, worse still, you grow selfish with it. 'None shall ever wear these lenses! Only I can truly appreciate this for what it is!' And so you go, either convincing the world to join you and dye everything to your liking, or you travel off to your own world, ignoring what is truly out there.
"I suppose you get what I'm trying to say," she let out a small sigh, dusting out the hair in her eyes. "So I ask you, for how long have you worn your rose lenses, my friend? When was the last time you saw the blues of the sky, the green of the grass, the red of blood, the very world that surrounds you?"
"Can your eyes even handle such colors now?" she continued. Leaning closer, Grey reached, stretching a concerned hand toward Morgne's arm.
"Can you remember a time when you could see such colors? A time when you saw the world for what it was?"
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#ed1717
2
0
1
5
Annasiel
At last, my peace. I found it in her eyes.
369
Aug 13, 2015 22:40:06 GMT
August 2015
annasiel
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Post by Annasiel on Jul 22, 2016 4:46:39 GMT
"Powers, our powers, this 'auramancy', or perhaps all powers now that I think about it; they affects how one perceives the mortal world."
The words this dwarf maiden spoke told of wisdom far beyond her apparent hold, far beyond anything the dark queen could have possibly expected. She had evidently picked up on Morgne's own intense internal storm, though how, she did not know. The sorceress never let any emotions leave beyond her surface. She was certain of this. Maybe she had detected some physical effect, or a spiralling thought, or a shift in exuded temperament. It didn't matter. This Grey knew she was on edge, and took that to mean whatever her infuriatingly unreachable mind might fathom.
And know she was using this cynical leverage to try and tear away at Morgne's own obfuscated front. That was the point that was the most annoying, that the dwarf seemed to think she could beat the timeless regal at her own manipulative game.
I could take her powers in an instant, she mused, though she knew that was only a boast. The little creature was stronger than she seemed, and she wouldn't be surprised if a further prying spike would reach a cold, hard wall of stubborn power.
As the maiden continued speaking, Morgne's ire grew. So she assumed the queen's perspective was biased. Flawed, diluted somehow by personal minutiae, tinted to skew the view of the surrounding world. It was a blatant and reckless attack, both on the temptress' ego and on her esteem. Maybe she had a different understanding of life, but that didn't condemn her to single-minded lunacy. In fact, one might consider it single-minded to even make such an insulting accusation!
And this talk about shadows. Morgne supposed the wretch was referring to the lies, and if such an assumption was true, the thought was almost laughable. As if the world was not a place of darkness and deception. As if lying and controlling from the darkness was not the only way to survive. It's an ignorant quest to pursue any other path to greatness, and most other paths lead to death or worse. At the very least, complacent blandness, which was no way to win the accursed games the goddess Estia spawned.
"I have seen the way I have always seen, at least since my childhood," Morgne replied when she finally was given a chance to speak. "And while I can understand the world in other ways, I still willingly choose my 'rose-tinted goggles.'" The sharpness was accentuated in the last two words, to openly display the queen's disapproval. Morgne let the maiden touch her arm grudgingly, only slightly pulling away, and continued talking. "Though as for the last, I do see the world as it is. The world isn't pretty colors of an artist's palette. The world is dark, and painful, and cruel. I understand the appeal of living in the moment, but what good does that do for you, for those around you, for those you don't even know? You like to help, to heal... how do you possibly hope to do both when you're merely staring awestruck as a windhead at all the shimmering lights?"
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