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Post by Lev on Aug 17, 2015 17:10:14 GMT
The hum of churning water echoed across the rocky walls of sacred ground. Water swirled with life in every direction, and lusciously green foliage claimed stake on any surface that could host it. Sound rose with mist into the open air above, covering the stone paths in a milky-white veil. One voice spoke out through the noise, unclouded and clear like a bell.
“I call to my Fathers, their almighty hands guide me with strength unmeasured.“
Her form was draped in a red cloak that trailed the ground behind her. Beneath that she wore a silvery-white dress adorned with pale yellow sashes, stitched with gold patterns. Clean, pale bare feet stepped out from the floor-length hem of her dress, and slender hands were held outward with palms toward the heavens.
“May my Mothers enlighten me. I am blessed with their knowledge, and shape her children with their love and wisdom.”
When she reached the small temple and ascended the stairs, Lady Theolandra removed her crimson hood. Even in the shade of the temple’s interior her hair seemed to glow, framed in a soft white light as if she carried the sun with her. She looked at the glossy marble floors the same was a priest would admire his pews; they were the a source of pride and purpose. But the stone altar at the center of the room was even more important. It stood waist high, meticulously carved at the top and faded into its natural state as it disappeared into the floor. Glass-like water spilled from it, overflowing and disappearing into the floor as well. To the untrained eye, the Lady was alone, but...
“Hello, Arthur.”
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Post by Dymion on Aug 18, 2015 2:24:26 GMT
The temple was magnificent, to say the least, the scenery a true blessing on any eyes that beheld it. It was where all of nature perfectly melded into one, smooth, image, a collaborative all of the world had invested in. Beams of pure sunlight filtered through the canopies as they danced across the soft earth and rushing waters. A dull roar, the result of falling tendrils of sapphire spray, seemed to layer under the sound of the wind in the trees, swaying the branches to nature's melody, and though the din it created was anything but silence, there was a quietness to the atmosphere, a serenity. It was calm. Through it all, a single figure strode, her presence a red splash against the blues and greens, her voice blending with the song of the sacred oasis, and though she was by herself as she walked towards the altar, she was not alone in the temple.
As Theolandra entered the chamber of the altar, two eyes, deep green in color, peaked over the edge of the book it had been reading only moments before, piercing the darkness to pick up on the glowing silhouette before him. And just below those emerald irises, the edges of a mouth curled up, a slight smile forming at the queen entering the sanctum. Arthur, sat leaned against the back of the temple, waiting for what he knew would come, the greeting, as always, to let him know that he still couldn't hide from her. When the subtle hint came, his only response was a broader grin, his head shaking as he stood up from his position.
"Milady." Even as he found his footing, a short bow was given to the queen of Etirath, a sign of respect to a woman so deserving. Even as he did, he could feel the corners of his literature digging into his chest, still open to the page he'd been scanning, and for a moment, he was tempted to close it. But as he returned to an upright position, it took only the slightest shove to move the thought aside. Finding a page again was... bothersome. Instead, he opted to use it for another purpose.
"I've taken to reading poetry." At this, he raised the book, indicating it to Theolandra as if the fact were important. "Reading it here just adds another level to the meaning, like all the thoughts and feelings of the writers pass right through here." His eyes roamed around, indicating the temple, before he realized Theolandra probably didn't wish to listen to him ramble on poetry. Eyes darted to her, and for a moment, a slight red formed on his cheeks, likely hidden in the shadows of the temple, yet nonetheless, as he lowered the book, a sense of nervousness set over the halfbreed, as he waited for however she responded.
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Post by Lev on Aug 18, 2015 14:43:41 GMT
"Stephon kissed her in the Spring, Rupert in the Fall, But Arthur only looked at her, And never kissed at all,"
Her footfalls were silent on the marble floor, the drag of her dress and cloak marking time as she walked around the opposite edge of the room. When she recited his name, light blue eyes flickered toward the young man in a sideways fashion. It was a playful clue, a teasing look that made it seem like she knew something more. She continued, inching closer to the center of the temple.
"Stephon's kiss was lost in jest, Rupert's lost in play, But the kiss in Arthur's eyes Haunts her night and day."
Theolandra's stare faltered for an instant, she looked down at her clasped hands like a child who'd been caught indulging in something they shouldn't. But the incident was covered in shadows and fled as quickly as it had come on. She looked back to the half-breed with a thin-lipped smile.
"I adore poetry." That expressive look was still in her eyes, even if the moment had passed. "The Rite of Milova is coming up. You should bring a pretty girl with you.. no better time to share thoughts and feelings."
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Post by Dymion on Aug 19, 2015 19:58:11 GMT
With each word that Theolandra spoke, Arthur could feel the whispers of emotion, twisting and spinning with every syllable, crafting an artwork as it fell upon his ears. Wonder, passion, and care intertwined with the poem that drifted in the temple, coiled in his heart, boiling as his eyes followed the queen's path, tracking her every step. Slowly, steadily, he inhaled the air around him, thick with a sense of energy, and he felt as if a wave passed through him, tingling his nerves, peaking his senses. Such was the wonders of crafted words in the sacred temple. To drown yourself in the deepest being of, not only a writer, but everything that claimed life. The effect it had on him was hidden only by the lack of light, his eyes gaining a look of wishfulness.
"I adore poetry."
When Arthur turned to lock his eyes with the queen's, the display of emotion so deeply pooled in his eyes was hidden almost instantly by the genuine mask he always wore. A soft smile and warm, friendly gaze, gentle green eyes making it seem as if there'd been no shift in his demeanor. But it had existed, if but for a moment, snapped away by a sense that controlled even the greatest of men: fear.
"I'm not much for pretty things." As he said this, the book he'd been holding to his chest was lowered, closed as the slightest puff of sound denoted the movement. "If the best word I can use to describe someone is simply pretty, it was not to be." He chuckled slightly, shaking his head, then turning to look out the temple towards the trees and water outside. "No... my greatest weakness is beauty." Again, the emotion in Arthur's eyes changed, going far off in the distance. "Something deeper than the eye can see. And I've found that, of all the things of the world, those shaped by the Divines hold more beauty than anything of man."
The next movement was slow, his head turning to face the queen. "Wouldn't you agree?"
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Post by Lev on Aug 20, 2015 16:37:55 GMT
The most successful authors would muse that the written word is only a platform for their art, that a verbal exchange is the purest form of poetic expression. A witness wasn't needed to confirm the truth in their theory. Facial cues dulled in comparison to the waves of candid energy that pulsated between Theolandra and the half-breed temple guardian. Joy, wonder, and fear all surrendered to each other. The formality of their masks did little more than illuminate the candor beneath. But she didn't object. She let him speak, and willingly absorbed the magic of his words in untroubled silence.
"Wouldn't you agree?"
His deliberate gaze halted her slow approach toward the apse of the temple. Thankfully, she was close enough to the altar for the sudden stillness to appear coincidental. She kept her eyes focused on his for as long as she could before turning away slightly to answer.
"Yes.." The response was softer than normal; maybe embarrassed, maybe shaken with doubt. "It was by Milova's loving hand that our eyes were blessed with the sight of the world. By Sympati's grace, it grew." Delicate fingers hovered above the sacred water as she spoke. "But all would be for naught without Den's creation of man," she continued. The tranquil sounds of water and birdsong carried in on the wind, fluttering around the two on invisible wings. "Man, woman, and child are the most beautiful creations..."
Practiced grace recaptured the Lady's voice. Crystal-blue eyes returned to Arthur's emerald, both hidden comfortably again behind their masks.
"Wouldn't you agree?"
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Post by Dymion on Aug 21, 2015 18:48:10 GMT
A shock went through Arthur's spine as Theolandra met his waiting gaze, the vibrant blue seeming to pierce through the veil to his essence. For just a few moments, only the sounds outside the temple muffled the sound of silence in the air, Arthur's attention breaking from the Theolandra's to stare into the water. A deep sigh escaped his lips, a sense of resignation emanating from him.
"I often contemplate that very idea." Again, his mask was broken, deep thought pulling at his mind as he lost himself in the water. "The Divines are so pure in their being, representing a solitary concept without the slightest hint of deviation. Each saw the world, and each influenced man as he is today..." He took another breath, daring a quick glance at the queen before continuing. "Man is the epitome of choice, of... freedom. The Divines hold the power of the stars in their hands, yet their actions are limited by the concepts they stand for." Again, Arthur turned to look at Theolandra, his eye color shifting from the green of nature to silver flecked in black. "But man has a choice, to be arrogant or compassionate, vengeful or loving... And it is because of this that man can truly appreciate the good."
He went silent as he turned his gaze back to the fountain. Seconds ticked by, silent in the atmosphere, as emotion flowed around the sacred temple. Inside, Arthur could feel the self doubt in his chest. He, too, was man, if but part; a mix of divine creation and mortal blood. And while both held their beauties, each held a weakness... and he feared it.
"We would not know love without first knowing hate... such is the way of man."
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Post by Lev on Aug 22, 2015 5:51:15 GMT
Theolandra bore witness to the guardian's contemplation in silence. All the while an uncomfortable itch rippled across her skin. From her heels to the nape of her neck it raked upward, challenging her stoic posture, but she did not move. She only listened, her arms hidden within the red folds of her cloak, and a stinging sensation in the corner of her eyes.
"The Divines hold the power of the stars in their hands, yet their actions are limited by the concepts they stand for."
He did not know the truth of his words. The Divines were a commonplace subject for Theolandra, being what she was. Who she was didn't matter; she was a pawn of heavenly powers, a figure to respect and follow without question - lest they be smited. Citizens would visit her to speak about the gods as if her council would tilt imagined scales in their favor. It was a lot she had excepted over time, but..
"You've certainly been thinking," she said with a small smile. It wasn't loud enough to derail his train of thought.
"But man has a choice,"Arthur continued with an obvious shift in demeanor - one the Lady could feel in the goosebumps on her arms.
Underlying tones of festered pain, maybe anger, radiated from the half-breed, rising and falling in the small room like heat waves. His eyes became silver like plated armour, or the sheen of her dress. Something about the man seemed guarded as Theolandra slowly approached him, eyes calm and unblinking.
"Is that what you hate, Arthur? Do fear mortality's double-edged sword?" she asked, closer. "You could be free of it. I could leave you to embrace your divinity.. Every breath would be living poetry. You could hold the stars.. influence man with your power," she mused, appealing to the offer but sounding forlorn. Closer than arms-length she waited for a response.
"What say you?"
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Post by Dymion on Aug 23, 2015 19:43:09 GMT
The air seemed... heavier. With each step his queen took, she drew closer and closer to Arthur, and yet, his reverie remained on the water, each word she spoke pulling and twisting, gnarling emotion with thought. In his chest, he could feel the rising pressure, the build up as his mask folded away, allowing the sorrow he felt inside to manifest. She'd struck a chord, in the deepest part of his essence. All his fears, anxieties, agonies... gone. As he considered it, the breath he took was ragged, poignant with emotion. His vision was blurred, as if looking through the surface of water. Because, for the first time in his life, tears had formed in his eyes.
Seconds passed, slow and suspended in the thick atmosphere as he struggled with mind and heart, an unspoken battle raging within as it tore at his essence. He opened his mouth, as if to speak, to release the pent up tension, yet it closed, not a word spoken. To be... perfect. That's what she was offering. To remove all concepts of sorrow, pain, hate, regret... But as he puzzled it, his own words returned to his mind. We would not know love without first knowing hate... To accept would be to lose the man... yes, man, known as Arthur. He would give way to a creation that would be limited in its choices by an ineptitude with evil.
"I..." A single syllable escaped his lips, soft, weak, lacking in direction. Only a slight movement was made as his head, painfully slow, turned to look at Theolandra, his gaze unable to meet hers. As a single tear fell from his eyes, he spoke, words ending the tear in his essence as they were contorted by his feelings.
"I cannot accept your gift, milady."
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Post by Lev on Aug 23, 2015 22:35:16 GMT
Waiting for Arthur to speak was like waiting for her heart to beat again; each soundless shift of his lips was a false revival of life - until it finally came. His refusal, and the intense relief that pumped blood into her rigorous limbs again. Asking him to choose was a foolish gamble. Regardless of the favorable outcome, ignoring her intuition, forgetting her trust in him.. one point was clear. She could have lost him, one way or another. That fact would haunt her for a while.
"Chase not perfection," she blurted out to fill the tense silence, regretting the word choice almost immediately. The mortal part of her, the woman, wished desperately to speak without limitation. Proverbs and propriety only helped so much, and had started to taste sour. It wasn't enough. "I.." Curses. Now she was lost for words. The half-breed's despaired face wasn't helping. He couldn't even look at her.
She gently wiped away his tears with her thumb. Her palm didn't retreat from his face, instead following the contour of his jaw and wrapping loosely around the back of his neck. After inhaling deeply through her nose she recited two familiar lines.
"That which I've given, you must return."
Warmth started to pour from the two bodies, a dim glow outlining their shapes until they were consumed by an overpowering light. Within that brilliance they were nothing, indefinite and formless. Energy, mana, collided before separating and pulling away in one of two directions. This continued until the light flickered away like a burnt out candle, and Arthur and Theolandra were clear in physical form again. The cleanse was performed..
"That which you've promised, you must perform," she whispered. "I'm glad you did not accept. It was not a gift I wanted to give."
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Post by Dymion on Aug 24, 2015 2:22:09 GMT
"Chase not perfection."
He almost had. It was a fact that weighed on Arthur's heart more than anything. He'd been so weak, so willing to give in to that temptation, to lose himself as he was. And for what? Selfish reasons, simply to escape, and be free of consideration. Guilt was all that permeated him as his eyes saddened even more.
But as her soft, gentle hand touched his features, his mind turned outward. Two bright silver pools twisted to focus on Theolandra's blue eyes. In them, his apology was conveyed as she brushed away the water in his eyes, his lips twisting up in a forlorn smile. But despite the calming effect it had, despite the simplicity of the gesture, his mind was sent into overdrive while his heart remained high paced. And as her hand moved towards the back of his neck, he knew what was to happen, preparing even as he felt something new form in his chest.
Theolandra was the only one who had seen Arthur in his truest form, the most base essence that had always remained hidden in his forms. The source of his thoughts, his emotions, his very life... It was during these moments that he felt most free, even as his queen cleansed the divine energies from him. Routine. But as their forms resolidified, energy becoming solid once again, his unstable state from before, with all the emotions broiling at the surface, had become hidden, layered under his kind smile and ice blue eyes, a reflection of Theolandra's.
"I l..." Realization hit Arthur like a brick as his expression changed to one of confusion, still looking at Theolandra.
"I lost my book."
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Post by Lev on Aug 25, 2015 1:41:09 GMT
"You lost.. your book."
She repeated his statement slowly, deliberately, like a foreigner mimicking a new language. All the while her eyes were still fastened to his, catching up with the moment. She relaxed her fingers and let her hand slip away from Arthur's neck, pulling it quickly back to her side. That's right; the cleanse was over. Staying that way would be inappropriate. The thought of invading the guardian's personal boundaries burned her cheeks with red embarrassment. Surveying the floor, searching for the lost literature, helped hide her cheeks.
"Oh, my. The little librarian will have your head for that, won't she?"
Marble floor still glistened in the sunlight with no book obscuring its patterns. It must have been lost, rather, transformed while their bodies had left the physical plane. That possibility hadn't crossed her mind. She'd completely forgotten that Arthur was holding onto it. The corner of her mouth tugged to the side, exposing clenched teeth.. Her expression could be conveyed in one word: Oops.
"Forgive me. I'll explain it to her,"she assured him with open hands, gesturing to emphasize her intentions. "Was it special to you? What can I do?"
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Post by Dymion on Aug 26, 2015 4:03:51 GMT
He couldn't help it. As Theolandra repeated his observation, slow in her echoing, the slightest of smiles appeared on Arthur's face as mirth formed in his eyes. To him, the situation was quite amusing. Though, he couldn't explain why. But, as his queen's hand pulled away, as the seemingly last trace of what had happened mere moments ago left, he felt a pang, quite contrary to his unexplained amusement. And in it, reflected the reality behind his reaction.
Two pairs of blue eyes searched the temple floor, yet it seemed neither of them laid eyes on the missing book. Not binding, not page, nor even a single word. It was a fact that, even as he twisted left and right, taking a few steps, he expected. He'd held it during their entire conversation, through the entire... moment. It had only disappeared after the cleansing. Now, where exactly it went and what happened, he didn't know. As far as he knew, he didn't have a sudden, extensive, perfect knowledge on the poems of the book. But there was still this nagging suspicion. One of them had... absorbed the book. Not an excuse Story would accept. It was a thought Theolandra voiced first.
"The little librarian will have your head for that, won't she?"
He stopped in the fruitless search, head turning to face her as he chuckled at the situation.
"I'm pretty sure there were two other copies. But as far as I know, she isn't very... forgiving." He shrugged casually, trying to show it didn't matter. "I'll live." His ice blue eyes watched Theolandra's expression, the movement of her features as she informed him that she would basically take the blame. At least, that was how the library "apprentice" would probably take it. But it was the beloved queen of Etirath. It would be hard for the young girl to not accept the answer.
The next words Theolandra spoke brought a playful smile to the halfbreed's face, his right eyebrow raising in a dramatic way, as if he held some skepticism. "Not much, unless you're willing to stay all day and make up poetry." His voice held in it a tone of mirth. He might not have his book. But he could still entertain himself.
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Post by Lev on Aug 27, 2015 1:41:32 GMT
Theolandra laughed light-heartedly at Arthur's comment toward Story. It was true, the little girl was portrayed as quite a terror in the library - in the kingdom! She was like an eel waiting for the perfect prey to snap at without warning. Suddenly the prospect of meeting with her to discuss a lost book wasn't so funny, and the queen's bell-like laughter dwindled nervously.
"...unless you're willing to stay all day and make up poetry."
The invitation quickly brought her eyes back to his, and she realized that the color of his iris had changed for a third time. Seeing the icy blue color, the emerald, or any other color made her wonder if she was talking to a different person. Arthur was still Arthur, always, but something about him shifted with the hues.. It all made Theolandra question the intent of is words, doubting their meaning in her mind. A short, downcast titter was her response.
"I'm no author. My love for poetry isn't enough to make it my own" Methodic footsteps brought her back to the temple's enterance with slightly crooked shoulders. From there, her gaze scaled the rockwalls that towered around them. "I suppose that concept is true for a lot of things.."
Breathing in the outside breeze was refreshing and thin compared to the dense atmosphere inside. Whatever happened during the cleansing had lingered in an uncomfortable way. Maybe uncomfortable wasn't the right word.. Theolandra shook it out of her mind.
"I wish I could, though," she said wistfully into the open air, arms crossed under her red cloak.
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Post by Dymion on Aug 28, 2015 16:50:11 GMT
When her eyes met his, a jolt went through his mind, the nervousness in her small laugh conveyed even in her crystal blue gaze. Her polite refusal came next, and as she turned away, Arthur allowed his expression to fall, the mirth vanishing even in his eyes as fear, apprehension, and realization mixed and burst. For only a few moments, his deepest emotions showed, hidden to eyes by walls and direction, his legs carrying him forward in two, slow, aimless steps. But as Theolandra spoke again, his features defaulted, a plain expression on his face as he stopped and looked her way.
Watching as she took in the outside air, Arthur noted the gleaming aura that surrounded her, golden rays of light reflecting away. She was framed by the sun, yet despite what should have been just a silhouette, she appeared clearly. A deep breath, and Arthur took the time to speak, his mind spurred forward by something unknown.
"When we call something ours, It it precious and dear. The thought of it leaving Oft brings forth a tear. Yet, when it remains, And blossoms in love, It's strengthened and flies, On the wings of a dove."
As he finished the impromptu poem, he looked down at his hands, which were clasped in front of him. He didn't remember putting them like that.
"I'm not very good." He chuckled, his gaze lifted to look at her again. "But I can see why poets love their job."
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Post by Lev on Sept 1, 2015 20:55:09 GMT
Theolandra started to smile when Arthur recited his poem. Its simplicity and sincerity overpowered the distant, crest-fallen feeling in her heart, sending it away with the currents that gushed from the mountain to feed the land. The love that people read about in books and verses was like a forbidden fruit, but one day she vowed to taste it - to know its happiness. She didn't turn back to Arthur until he'd finished, uncrossing her arms and tilting her head ever so slightly to display her enjoyment. The half-breed's insecurity about the poem wasn't surprising; it was just like him to dismiss the small talents that he had.
"Maybe," she started. "I think you're better than the credit you give yourself."
Saying that, she turned back again to leave the temple. The hem of her silvery dress swooshed as she did so, gliding over the marbled floor a moment before landing and trailing behind the wearer. After descending the stairs and reaching the cobblestone path, Theolandra turned to see if Arthur had followed her. The short train of her dress still lingered on the last two steps. Colorful swallow-tailed birds cast shadows onto the ground below like hand-crafted kites, singing their songs without care or rhyme to fill the silences. When he finally emerged from the temple she couldn't help smiling softly again, continuing on about poems without knowing why.
"Poets love to write, yes.. but they have to love what they're writing about even more, isn't that right?" The question was innocent, light-hearted.. a true reflection in her own terms. "As they strengthen their love, they strengthen their words.. Soon, they can't help creating beautiful poetry."
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