DIR Return Create A Forum - Home
---------------------------------------------------------
MacabreOfWriting
HTML https://macabreofwriting.createaforum.com
---------------------------------------------------------
*****************************************************
DIR Return to: Multiverse [Group RP]
*****************************************************
#Post#: 407522--------------------------------------------------
Re: ☾Willow☽
By: Demonreach Date: August 28, 2016, 2:35 pm
---------------------------------------------------------
'You forget that the woods are more my home than most creatures
that live here...' But he was met with the same cryptic answers
as always. Wizards of all kinds rubbed him the wrong way with
their constant verbal dancing, sometimes even their physical
dancing. 'Finding you, with or without the markings, would be
child's play, but it wasn't my intention. For my reasoning for
being here, there had been reports of things about here.'
At the emergence of another black dog, the horse started to
prance about; a hand resting on the side of its neck to calm it,
stroking the horse gently. Tristan could feel himself getting
irritated at the situation; already two of those had frightened
his horse and not a lot did that, given the situations it had
been through with the Rahl.
But he was brought back as the old mage was interrupted by the
slight figure of a woman, naked; the Rahl cocked an eyebrow at
the inhuman woman. 'Not to be trifled with? My, you wound me,
Shenir. Have I ever done you wrong? Or is it that you merely
respect my abilities as such? I am not as powerful as you make
me out to be.'
However, Tristan studied the elf as she in turn did the same; he
scoffed a bit at the singular word but shrugged it off. He'd
never call himself interesting, though perhaps to some foreign
entity he might be; though, aside from his cousin who lay long
dead and a limited few in his family, he was the only War
Wizard, an oddity from thousands of years ago when magic and
wizards were far more bountiful than today. He had seen plenty
of such creatures in his travels on the run for so many years so
her ilk meant little to him, aside from her being so far from
her native land. He looked askance at Shenir, pondering;
stroking the beard in that thought process before dismissing the
idea.
As the elf woman looked upon him though, she'd see differences
in his appearance up close; his eyes shifting different hues;
the features not quite right; even the beard seemed to be off.
In truth, Tristan often used this guise upon traveling, an old
habit that never failed him in the slightest, especially as he
perfected it over the years. A bit of Additive magic and he was
someone else entirely, but he didn't show off his magical
disguise by changing or adding, even though the idea of
startling even Shenir would be worth it.
It had been so long since he had last seen himself in the
mirror; everyone knew he was Rahl with some magical ability,
Shenir perhaps knowing more than he should, but for the moment,
the magi hadn't sold him out. It was odd to trust someone with
his identity, an identity that was a death sentence back so many
years ago; the fact that it was gone with the former D'hara
emperor's death meant there was little for Tristan to fear these
days, but he was not exactly friendly with the main bloodline,
nor did he want to be. Although, the Empress was a sight to
behold. He had the pleasure of meeting her a handful of times,
but she was an intimidating presence as well as she was
beautiful.
It excited him in ways he didn't know existed.
His eyes narrowed however at Shenir, the laughter that
threatened to bubble forth, but his words were for the woman.
'What do you find less than impressive about my person, auphe?
My lack of fire? Or is it my person itself that you find so...
lacking?'
His questions were filled with any sort of self-consciousness,
but a general sense of curiosity. There weren't many women that
found him unimpressive, but given that she was more elf than
human, perhaps she didn't find the same qualities endearing as
his female counterparts. Not that he would sweat the opinion of
a singular person, or even a multitude of them.
#Post#: 407527--------------------------------------------------
Re: ☾Willow☽
By: Gia Date: September 2, 2016, 2:47 pm
---------------------------------------------------------
Upon such a close inspection of this second man, she found
herself gripped even more by Shenir; this supposed magi hunter
was narrow in the shoulders compared to the larger one doing his
best to kill the humour that threatened to bubble to the
surface, standing just a few feet away, and if it wasn’t for the
facade the shorter one had already put up, Thalia might’ve
enjoyed his company.
Turning over to Tally, she watches the same look of fear that
was on Thana’s face paint itself into her eyes, the lighter dog
growling deeply. Just then, the humid air coagulated and wove
itself into the shape of a woman; she looked old and worn out
and though it took the young elf a minute to realise who she
was, swaying left to right in the air without touching the
ground - Thalia still bowed her head respectfully,
acknowledging her presence the moment she had made herself
present.
It takes a moment for her dogs to calm down, Thalia watching
proudly as they mimic her actions and just as quickly as she had
appeared, before the gentlemen could even grasp what or who they
were looking at, Lady Ava disappeared into the wind as if she
had never been there, as if she was just a figment of their
imagination, playing a cruel game.
“You two, and then our Lady, and that stupid wench. .” she spoke
more to herself than her companions, words turning into a quiet
little mumble before she turns away from the new man, to face
the one whose thoughts she read like a book; the ones he allowed
her to anyway. A look of relief washes over her features for a
moment when he begins to explain what he had used the flames
for, smiling softly to express her gratitude.
Tobacco. To inhale, and exhale. And to occasionally choke on.
Her thoughts would now peek through the curtain of his mind, and
wonder through, like a running current, a smirk on her lips as
she watched him silently, waiting for his reaction, silently
hoping he didn’t give their little secret away.
She turns her attention to the man as he spoke, furrowing her
brows while contemplating his question, before she walked back
to him, floating so she could look into his eyes, and he could
see hers clearly as she responded in a calm, almost ethereal
voice, “the lack of fire can’t be ignored, that is for sure but
more so, this little mask of yours. I see you, you’re right
here, but this beard, and those eyes,” she points to his beard,
and then his eyes, changing in colour, “they’re not you. Are you
too much of a coward to show the real you or is there another
explanation?”
His will to hide his real form might not even have an
explanation, but it was a threat to Thalia, even if it was done
in good faith. It was quite possible that in the years he had
lived, which she imagined would be less than her, that he might
have acquired enemies.
Maybe his mask was his protection like she was made to protect
the forest.
She flies over to Shenir, pointing to where he had started the
fire.
“And how would one turn the flames off if they didn’t need it
anymore?”
#Post#: 407537--------------------------------------------------
Re: ☾Willow☽
By: Dems Darkfire Date: September 5, 2016, 8:20 pm
---------------------------------------------------------
He watched the interaction between the Elf and the Rahl. A
chuckle left his lips as he heaved his staff against his
shoulder and let it set there. His opposite hand brought his
pipe to his lips, a strong inhale bringing the sweet tobacco
into his lungs and then a soft exhale brought a bellow of smoke
through his nostrils and down his beard, the heavier mist
seeping down over the front of his body like a curtain.
He felt the presence, but did not turn to look. From his
position he just caught a glimpse of her from the corner of his
eye. Shenir simply lifted his pipe in salute with the other fae
and then went back to drawing in the sweet, thick vapor and
keeping an eye on the Elf ash she elevated herself to lock eyes
with Tristan. It was strange to see a creature call him out on
his disguises. Shenir’s whiskers turned up with his smile as he
let out another small cloud of smoke, this one rising up instead
and away.
He had almost forgot the link he set up with the woman before
her mind returned a signal to his, the side of his face curled
up slightly and he drew in once more and nodded at nothing in
particular it seemed.
“Well, Tristan. When was the last time you ever heard that word
with you as the subject of the sentence?”
Shenir chuckled and let his staff slip. The staff slid down and
tapped the ground as he released a large O from his mouth. The
circle passed the woman as she now flitted through the air in
his direction. It broke for one second and then reassembled on
the other side of her body. It widened and struck Tristan across
the chest as he snickered.
He took a few puffs from his tobacco as their eyes met. He
sighed at her question and glanced over her shoulder to Tristan
with a smile. “Well, my dear. There are many ways to snuff a
fire out.” He nodded and blew another cloud of smoke between
them. “Take away its fuel, douse it with water, douse it with
dirt, and starve it of oxygen are a few.” He nodded and swirled
the smoke with his hand. “But if you have a more magical flame…
You would need something a little stronger.” Shenir stamped the
tobacco down with his thumb and placed it back inside the tail
of his cloak. “Usually another Magi or wizard. An Apostate could
possible fight it if they knew the right invocations.”
He looked at the two animals and pondered their position for a
short time before looking to Tristan. “Even a warrior like him
can fight a fire to a point.”
He now took a moment to circle the elf as she had circled them.
He made his way from in front of her to the back and then back
around once more. He inspected her anatomy, turning his head one
way or the other to get the right angles. “So. I have answered
your questions… Do you have a name, my dear? Or has it been lost
among the leaves?” He stepped past her and towards the dogs,
maintaining a little more distance from them than he did with
the Elf woman. “And why the deep fascination with fire? Odd you
would know of something that you seem have no need for.” The two
dogs came up to nearly chest height on Shenir. He shook his head
and then turned toward Tristan and walked before him.
“So you avoided my question, a tad Rahl. Everyone knows you like
the trees. But that doesn’t explain why you aren’t where the
orders said you were going to be.”
#Post#: 407542--------------------------------------------------
Re: ☾Willow☽
By: Demonreach Date: September 7, 2016, 2:41 pm
---------------------------------------------------------
'The last man to call me a coward died.' His tone was
conversational, speaking to Shenir in response to the question.
'But I have nothing to prove to this auphe.'
Tristan had spent his life being called names, so it was nothing
to be called a coward; or the insinuation that he was one. There
had been plenty of times he'd proven himself and come out on
top; his whole life a trial, every fork in the road an obstacle.
Despite his Rahl blood, people underestimated him, choosing to
see past the surface for what man could do what Tristan had done
in a lifetime?
Let her be on her toes should she view his distance a threat.
He welcomed it, after she had so rudely scared his horse. A hand
idly patted the thick neck of the beast, who snorted; the eyes
warily resting on the two hounds, but relaxed at the touch of a
trusted companion. Tristan felt that same reassurance from
touching the horse, knowing that the one creature that had seen
him through so much still remained at his side. He felt some
regret at the idea of keeping the animal on the road, but any
new horse would feel like a betrayal. That, and the changes he
had made to Horse with his Additive magic would take too long on
a different horse.
He sighed, allowing his thoughts to slide away. 'A warrior like
me?' Perhaps it was easy to forget that Tristan was one of the
most powerful wizards within his homeland, being a War Wizard;
one of a very select few remaining, as Tristan rarely flaunted
his own power, relying on his more natural skills and talent to
kill his enemies. But he mostly used his magic to defend against
other magic-users.
As he exhaled once more after a deep inhale, black lightning
roped around his arms and body; sparking as bright red lights
danced between the coils before igniting with a great suction
that made it difficult to breathe for a moment; even the air
began to grow colder; the breathing of persons and animals alike
misting, a cold air surrounding the warrior. The black lightning
seemed to arc within the thin layer of mist, dancing between the
molecules.
A rush of air pushed all of this away, touching all the living
things harmlessly; a feat hard to pull off with the Subtractive
lightning that manifested itself. After a few meters the magicks
fell away to nothing. 'He speaks of spells and incantations,
invocations, that summon when in reality, all magic comes from
your willpower. Words are nothing but a buffer, a cushion; a
crutch. An enabling factor that allows for weakness, but
sometimes such things are needed for bigger magicks.'
The voice was ominous, strained with anger, which was also
lurking within the eyes of the Rahl but not directed at any one
thing. Shenir's magic was a lot more versatile than Tristan's
own, but it was a handicap that Tristan had overcome; learned to
manipulate his dual powers with efficiency.
'As for why I am here, there was some reports of trouble. They
have no respect for a run of the mill magi hunter.' He shrugged
the broad shoulders. 'You know how it is with common folk who
know nothing of our ways, but no. As I said, I didn't find your
markings, following a different kind of markers from a different
source. Finding you and her was merely happenstance.
Unfortunately my display earlier may have given my location
away, but very few can detect my kind of magic; you are one of
the few outside of my homeland.'
#Post#: 407548--------------------------------------------------
Re: ☾Willow☽
By: Caroline Date: September 7, 2016, 6:07 pm
---------------------------------------------------------
Sitting atop of a branch, Luna had been witness to Thalia and
the two strangers, their conversation not particularly
compelling but enough to distract her from venturing into
another heartrending memory of what her past would soon be -
Lady Ava having been the first to remind her. For a moment, she
looks over the scarlet horizon, ignoring everyone and
everything, a blissful silence blanketing her mind and though it
lasts a mere second, she doesn’t take advantage of savouring the
very brief moment before she’s brought back to Earth as a rush
of air hugs her body and just as swiftly leaves. Like the elf,
Thalia lets her body fall, looking like one with the wind,
moving as gracefully and elegantly as the nixie. However, just
before she hits the ground, she grabs the shortest branch,
lifting her body and twisting in the air, so her legs are
suspended over the branch, and the top half of her body is
hanging upside down.
“Her memory is the only thing that’s been lost among the leaves,
her name is Thalia,” a smirk is on her lips as she interrupts
the three and introduces her emerald friend, watching her
immediately turn and puff out her cheeks conveying how annoyed
she was in the flare of her nostrils, “don’t look at me like
that, did you forget about the ceremony taking place later
tonight?” Luna hadn’t expected the eyes and ears of the forest
to forget about the celebration to come tonight, and when she
mentions it, she feels like a sacrificial lamb, deciding to take
advantage of the last few hours of freedom she had.
Luna’s father had chosen her to be offered and the young girl,
by his expressed desire, had agreed, not giving way for her own
selfish ambitions to urge her to higher aims, though she was
sure she was burying her talent, along with her spontaneity,
into the dirt beneath them. Throwing herself off the branch, she
lands a few feet away from the Rahl, dismissing her friend’s
angered facial expression, an angelic and soft giggle filling
the air around them before answering the man’s second question,
her answer not carrying the entire truth, “don’t mind her
fascination with something as straightforward as fire, she’ll
move onto something as equally as straightforward after this,
ice, water. . . a bug.” Luna knew why Thalia had asked so many
questions, she bore the responsibility of their land’s safety on
her shoulders, and a fire was a threat to these woods, to their
plant life, so she had to know everything about it.
Luna had dark hair and tan skin, which was uncharacteristic of
an ethereal fae; she was a slender woman, her collarbones
protruding from her skin, though a big necklace adorned it, her
posture not giving away how heavy it was. A gift from Vaeymere
himself, crafted by metals only he obtained, and though it
wasn’t given to her by him personally, she felt the weight of
it, quite literally. Like Thalia, she too didn’t wear clothes,
her hair an effortless mess, and though she was slender, the
curves to her body made her irresistible, a sight to behold, and
very popular, simply put, she possessed physical attributes of
light, and so, took the form of it herself, making her seem like
an angel. Her brown eyes peeked through the thick curtain of
lashes and stared out into the distance, at nothing in
particular, a slight smile painted onto her plump lips.
“Well then,” she turns to Thalia, floating over to pet one of
her hounds, kissing the dog's forehead before turning to her
friend, “I expect you to be there tonight. Bring these gents,”
she tilts her head towards the two men, before slowly dissolving
into the air, leaving in her wake, the smell of sandalwood and
vanilla.
#Post#: 407560--------------------------------------------------
Re: ☾Willow☽
By: Demonreach Date: September 7, 2016, 7:13 pm
---------------------------------------------------------
Deeper still, within the heart of the forest, rested the Elder
Fae.
Eyes were a deep crimson, that reflected dully in the light of
the torches and candelabra surrounding him within his ritual
chamber. Blue-ashen flesh was absorbed the light, as if the skin
had been deprived of light its entire life. The Elder Fae was
naked, revealing the tattoos were apart of his flesh; grooves
and ridges, spirals and sharp circles, a pattern of magic long
lost to this world.
He was of the Old Magic, a legend; immortal even by Fae
standards of longevity. That Wild Magic swirled within his
veins, in his soul; glittered darkly within the crimson hues. He
wasn't exactly handsome by the fae standards of beauty, offering
a more rugged and rough beauty; though that was mostly due to
age. He could still captivate any mortal should he so choose.
The white hair hung about his shoulders, moving briefly with
some form of air that turned about his person.
His fellow fae offered up their young to him as some sort of
honor, as if to please him; to placate him. The problem was that
he grew bored, his long life now holding little meaning. Years
passed like seconds, mulling over pointless thoughts. How long
had it been since he ventured among the world of the humans? Of
his own people? He thought of the Nevernever, a home lost to
him, with some melancholy.
Vaeymere knew himself to be a sad creature, unmoved by any sort
of plight; he was but mere fragment of the man he once was, but
despite that, his presence was palpable; heavy; wild.
He stood, finally, after a few more minutes of contemplation and
dressed himself in his usual garb.
A dark colored shirt that was covered by a leather vest;
fingerless gloves and pants of the same leather; boots with
steel heels and toes, though decorated with silver etchings. He
stuffed the pants into the boots and strapped the sword to his
person.
The sword was finely crafted, to be sure, despite its simple
design; slightly curved much like a scimitar though not was
wide. The weapon held its own magical properties. He looked at
himself, noticing that the clothing was bit looser in some areas
as he is no longer at the peak of his physique. Much like old
veterans, he longed for the days of old; of being young,
youthful; full of pride and arrogance instead of wisdom and
caution.
The look in his eyes spoke of a man long dead, just waiting for
the body to catch up.
As he made his way into the forest, he sat beneath a tree; his
eyes closed as he embraced the nature around him, letting the
wild magic within ebb and flow; his senses immersing themselves
to the sights and sounds.
Soon... But how long before this new one grows boring?
His body began to lax, his mind loosening, as the light embraced
him; kissed his flesh so gently like a lover seeking comfort. A
soft sigh left his lips, feeling his spirits come to life after
so many years within. He disliked the weakness he felt upon
waking from his slumber, knew it was a matter of time before he
never woke up; dreaming eternally. A part of him longed for
that, but a part of him, the warrior's pride, wouldn't allow him
to die in such a quiet way despite him deserving that much. The
Elder Fae could feel the presence of the two wizards, hear the
conversation on the breezes of air. Perhaps he would join them
in their mission...
#Post#: 407587--------------------------------------------------
Re: ☾Willow☽
By: Dems Darkfire Date: September 8, 2016, 9:09 pm
---------------------------------------------------------
“Dead, haha, yes.” Shenir leaned against his staff as it drove a
light hole into the dirt and steadied itself against his weight.
His diamond eyes shimmered at the thought as he shook his head,
sounding silver bells through his hair as the braid snaked back
and forth behind him. “We did war him not to play the fool. But
alas… Poor Appetence of the first tower thought himself ready.”
Shenir’s chuckle turned into a dark, snide snicker as he watched
the par before him. “He found out.”
Shenir let the power wash over him as it expanded from its user
and shortly after he listened to the speech Tristan gave on the
use of incantations, the pipe between his lips suddenly as it
had gone away and a long drag entering Shenir’s lungs.
“A crutch? I’d call it more of training wheels. Once you get
past the first three towers, you don’t really need them
anymore.” Smoke billowed from his mouth as he spoke, his eyes
fixed on nothing in particular. He felt the other presence
before she ever appeared. Shenir, now climbing the ranks of the
fifth tower understood this well. Incantations and spellwords
were forbidden unless using more powerful magics.
It had felt like the Elf had grown quiet with their
conversation. His eyes flicked over towards the elf for one
second, but then Shenir continued his talks with Tristan.
“Well, Rahl. The common folk played you a fool. There has been
no trouble this side of the pass. Maybe with the woods. This
place seems alive and well enough to keep us off track. The
Holdfast is a day’s ride from here once you get outside this
blasted place. Those apostates won’t kill themselv…”
She appeared, just as the other had, as a flitting leaf falling
from the branches above and catching herself only to hang above
them on the lowest branch as light as air it seemed. Shenir had
felt the presence, his feelers now out at the sight of the Rahl
to keep anything else that might come their way within proper
range for a warning. He didn’t speak, he just watched this new
one with pipe in mouth and smiled at her words, chuckling at the
rise that flushed Thalia’s face as her companion spoke.
His eyes turned to Tristan as the woman spoke and then vanished.
He chuckled softly and let out a small stream of smoke from his
lips. “Seems our presence is required at some ceremony for the
night.” He turned on his heel, still against his staff, both
hands turning to let himself tool to Thalia. “So. I suppose you
can lead the way for us if you wish.”
#Post#: 407601--------------------------------------------------
Re: ☾Willow☽
By: Gia Date: September 10, 2016, 5:53 am
---------------------------------------------------------
As Luna dissolves into thin air and Thalia is left with Shenir
and the magi hunter, whose name she still hadn’t gotten, not
caring for it much now because a name without a face wouldn’t do
much, she crosses her arms over her chest and puffs out her
cheeks, lost in deep contemplation. On one hand she could use
her weather manipulation technique to kill a fire should she
ever need to, on the other hand she could begin to prepare for
it now. Tonight however, she would give her mind, and shoulder,
to Luna; Thalia hadn’t forgotten about the annual sacrifice but
she could only nod, to nothing and noone in particular as she
finally realises why Lady Ava had made an appearance.
The ancients were all coming to town tonight, and the power they
possessed would run through the roots of the trees; it made
Thalia tingle with excitement.
“Oh I’ll lead the way alright,” it was evident how exuberant she
was, her dogs taking the lead, turning so she’s looking at
Shenir and walking backwards, “we have this annual sacrifice for
Vaeymere every year. I mean of course, him being the most
ancient Fae, he’ll need a young, ripe woman to keep him
entertained,” her voice was laced and dripping with sarcasm, but
it passes quickly, replaced with songs of woe, “every year,
dozens of young girls volunteer, but it’s not up to them, the
elders decide who’s worthy and this year, they decided on Luna.”
Luna didn’t deserve it and Thalia could only imagine what she
was going through right now but as they make their way deeper
into the woods, she watches the diamond sky get brighter - it
was only a matter of time before they made it to Lake Qurbani.
It seemed there was magic in the air around them the deeper they
got, the pathway leading to the bridge they had to cross
decorated with little faes, flapping their little wings about
and leaving in their trails, specks of dust, of all colours -
pinks, different hues of purples, emeralds. It was beautiful.
The leaves had a life of their own too, rich and vibrant in
colour. As they crossed the bridge, Thalia looked at the
turquoise waters of the bay, filled with fishes whose scales
shone brightly, like flashing lights, matching the same lights
that were wrapped around the wooden structure beneath them.
Having crossed over now, they would walk down another pathway,
animals crowding around the trees, waiting for the night to
begin, and there, in the heart of the forest was the start of
the big lake, surrounded by the ancients, the elf-folk, faes,
talking and cheering among themselves. They would place cups
under the waterfall, drinking the sweet beverage and passing it
around, a huge grin painting Thalia’s face at the drunk folk
that stumbled around clumsily. She looks back at her companions,
grey eyes full of glee, “I’ll go get us some drinks.” Though the
faes had beautiful wings, the elves didn’t need them to fly, it
was the magic that dominated their very existence that allowed
them the art, so without another word Thalia floats over the
river, scooping down to pick up three cups before filling them,
landing beside Shenir. She holds out the cups waiting for the
men to accept them, and when they do, she would take a sip of
hers.
It was hard to put into words what their holy water tasted like
- because it runs through the forest and makes encounters with
oak every day as if they were two lovers passing by each other
in the dead of the night, it tasted earthy, with a hint of
vanilla. It tastes like comfort and warmth, and never the same
to everyone, each person would have their own unique experience
with the drink, and as she sips on hers, she looks over to the
two men, wondering what it was like for them.
The magical beings around them were radiating, and beautiful and
on a night like this one, it was hard to ignore the love in the
air, the romantic setting, the deep colours, the light breeze -
everything was perfect and it was almost time.
#Post#: 407602--------------------------------------------------
Re: ☾Willow☽
By: Caroline Date: September 10, 2016, 9:08 am
---------------------------------------------------------
She appeared before the only mystical being who would
spiritually be at the ceremony, not in person because she had no
legs; one couldn’t simply yank Grandmother Willow’s roots from
the dirt and plant her near the lake. A year's worth of guidance
and the young brunette still felt she was at a disadvantage, the
nerves in her stomach screaming to be heard, and as she takes a
seat on the sturdy, old branch, Willow’s eyes come to life, the
ebony gems searching for her, the corners wrinkling when Luna’s
own auburn gaze meets them.
“What is it that plagues you still, my dear?”
Her voice alone gave Luna solace, though it was filled with
years of misery and fatigue.
“Earlier today, I was sat on top of a branch contemplating how
everything would change tonight - my spirit was,” she pauses
momentarily to correct herself, “is low. I had reflections of my
father when he was just a man of the soil but with that
endeavour, I didn’t succeed in consoling myself. I went to Mount
Morz, remember?” There was a sadness in her soft voice that
could move the coldest man should it wish to do so. “I thought
that would do it, but passing two strangers on my path here had
more effect in cheering my spirits, than all the sage
reflections and steady resolve I had forced my mind to frame.”
Now her voice is begging for someone to grasp how difficult it
was, this burden they had placed on her, begging for a friend,
“I feel I am too young, Nana, I’ve not acquired half a rule over
my own spirit, as trifling as that may be, and I fear Vaeymere
will see right through that.”
Her ancient voice filled the vast terrain around them, as
tender, as a rose, “Years ago, when the first sacrifice was made
to Vaeymere, he had asked for a Physical fae, no one knew why
but he was a young man himself, I suppose even he was confused.
Perhaps it was because of boredom years later, that he then
asked for a Spiritual fae. And once again, I suppose he was
disappointed. Now, he has asked for you, an Ethereal fae. At her
prime, Lady Faylinn had been sacrificed, but during that time
she had been in mourning, and so reserved. Her lack of affection
made it hard for Vaeymere to get attached, so when he was just a
young boy, he came and asked me about her. Not even he could
manage to elicit a single adequate answer or even get me to
shine a ray of light on her plight.”
Luna wasn’t deaf and though her advice was weaved into a
narrative that only Nana seemed to present so perfectly, she
understood. Though he had had many before, Luna wasn’t on that
list. She would be different, her confusion or even uncertainty
might be the cause of some sort of intimacy between them;
perhaps he would be her comfort, even. Standing at full height
now, she walked over to place a hand on the bark of the tree,
her magic shining beneath her palm to give thanks, before
pressing her plump lips to Willow’s right eye.
It was time.
With Willow’s blessing, she soared through the sky, her wings
flapping effortlessly behind her, going higher and higher, until
she’s floating just above the waterfall, watching Vaeymere take
his seat beneath the tree, surrounded by their folk. For a
moment, she watches him, the intensity painted in his creased
forehead enough to unsettle her equilibrium but she takes a deep
breath and her heart manages to come back to it’s senses. She
smiles as everyone looks up at her, the area so quiet now you
could hear a pin drop.
[center][spoiler]
HTML https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lsz5ijRQvUY[/spoiler][/center]
The sound of the harp fills the air as the brunette begins to
dance elegantly, her body twisting up and down, in and out of
the water, becoming one with the waves, watching the eyes of
their folk, plastered on her. And then her voice, dainty and
graceful, singing, brown eyes meeting with Vaeymere’s every so
often, her words directed at him - portraying and pouring into
them, her devotion, her allegiance to him and all she could do
was hope it impressed him enough. The more she sings, the closer
she gets to the ground, and to the ancient fae, until at last,
she lands before him, kneeling down and bowing her head. Her
last words are a whisper, a private exchange from her to the man
sitting opposite her.
“You are an ocean of waves. . .”
#Post#: 407609--------------------------------------------------
Re: ☾Willow☽
By: Demonreach Date: September 11, 2016, 8:43 pm
---------------------------------------------------------
Tristan held some trepidation, but this is what he had come for.
Answers.
Given Tristan's life of being on the run, he'd immersed himself
within various cultures. His favorite, perhaps, had been the
Northmen with their gods. As they had walked, his disguise
removed itself, revealing the true man beneath.
While not a lot had changed, Tristan was clean shaven; eyes like
a hawk, watching everything with a predatory gleam. A few scars
stood out on the white skin; an odd color given his time on the
road. The blue of his eyes glowed with some inner light,
excitement stirring within the ocean hues. He left his horse
just outside of the area of the ritual, knowing how uneasy it
made the beast. Instead, he carried the two swords -the smaller
at his hip with the larger along his back; the bow was slung
across his back as well with the quiver at the opposite hip.
There was no doubt this man was nothing other than a Rahl, or
someone of high importance; despite him not growing up in such a
manor, he held himself with a regality that belied that; his
gait easily and almost feline. Finally, he felt some semblance
of self. He was a tower of personality, dominating and imposing.
Any questing wouldn't give much about his person, marking him as
human while most would feel the magical prowess of his partner,
Shenir. There were few that could sense that magical power
within the young Rahl.
He sipped idly at the water before him, watching intently;
striking casual conversation with Shenir to pass the time.
The thing with rituals was that they dragged on.
[center]~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~[/cen
ter]
As the Light Fae would begin, Vaeymere sighed softly; enjoying
the quiet that followed just before but nothing was quiet with
the gathering of so many Fae. His eyes took in everything,
resting on both the outsiders; annoyance creased his eyes as
they met briefly with Thalia's own.
But he could sense the unease of the Fae woman before him,
pouring her soul into the task at hand in hopes of not offending
him. Had the Fae always been so weak? So seeking in their need?
Was he not the same?
As she would get halfway through her song, he held a hand,
forestalling any further singing. The hand stayed, to stifle any
murmuring.
While the Light Fae's voice had been soothing, enjoyable really,
the Elder Fae's voice was deep; a growl from within his throat.
It commanded entire armies at one point in its life, as it
carried easily between all listeners.
'Enough.' It carried boredom with it, touching a darker emotion
that shined dangerously in the red hues. 'I grow bored with this
farce, year after year. It is tiring and only seeks to drive me
to my slumber sooner.'
He paused, watching; listening, before continuing. 'I am
leaving. Luna, you are free from this obligation; do with your
life as you would for I have no need of you lest you feel the
need to accompany.' He met the eyes of the two warriors, as if
in challenge before nodding his head in some answer to some
question only he held the answer for.
'Thalia, return these two to their people.'
He rose as he spoke, exiting much the same way he had entered.
'Luna, attend me for a moment.'
All around him, as he left, the forest seemed to breathe once
more, as if holding its breath. The Wild Magic so untamed within
him flowed greedily; hungrily all around, touching upon his
people and the two humans. As he departed, that magic left all
but Luna, swirling around her. While he had freed her from this
ritual, his command offered no alternative.
It had been so long since he had immersed himself so heavily
within that magic; his eyes shining with dangerous intent; his
body poised on the edge of violence. There was a balance to all
things, he thought, and his magic demanded that there be war for
the years that passed by so peacefully.
How delightful.
*****************************************************
DIR Next Page