The Blueprint
As he ascended the stairway into the tree, memories flooded back to Ror. Inside Ror saw that the furniture had long ago decided to fall apart and decay, and nature had taken over. He used a stick to brush the many spider rags aside, and concluded that his home would need extensive work to make it habitable again. After some time, he worked his way into what was once a living room. Gliding with his hand over the carving in the wall, he smiled, triggered by the happy memories. Ror continued his inspection and eventually found the study, and surprisingly, there was an intact box of makou crystal sitting in the rubble of what once had been his desk. Of course, thought Ror, as he kneeled and touched the crystal. How could I have forgotten? A faint click was heard under Ror's touch and he grinned. "You were expensive, but worth the money. And if you are still here," whispered Ror, "are your contents as well?" He pushed open the lid and then smiled broadly. Unharmed by the passing of time was a scroll he had cared for quite a bit. He took it out, and unrolled it in his lap. The ink had not faded, the blueprint had survived.
Answers, and more Questions
"I thought I might find you here Garlech." Vorcet said as he strode up beside the tall golden Rilmani at the edge of the balcony overlooking the island.
"I spend much of my time observing, it is our purpose." responded Garlech as he turned toward Vorcet. "What can I do for you?"
"A series of nagging questions regarding what the Black Church did to silence the gods here." Vorcet began carefully. "As I am sure you know all forms of contact with the gods has been cut. No answered prayers, no manifestations. Rumors fly as to what this means. Are the gods dead? or are they simply unable to interact with the prime material plane?"
"I believe this is the most I have heard you speak since you took up residence here Vorcet." Garlech responded with a ghost of a smirk on his face.
"I've lived a long life by human standards, I have learned the value of a carefully guarded tongue when it becomes necessary." Vorcet responded with a slight shrug of his shoulders. "Still, when there is something that is uncertain, such as the fate of our gods.... Im unable to help myself."
The slight smile slipped from Garlechs face as it fell back to the practiced expression of neutrality that was his norm. A few moments passed before he responded. "We know not the fate of the gods. However, were I an experienced wielder of magic, I might bend my time toward learning extra-planar travel."
Vorcet pondered that for a moment as he looked out over the lands beyond the island. "Planeswalking magics have been lost to us for hundreds of years." Vorcet mused more to himself than anything. "There has been the rare exceptions, but their secrets have always died with them."
"Are you so sure of that Vorcet?" Garlech responded carefuly. "The Netherese were planeswalkers. How much of their knowledge has been preserved?"
Silence fell on the balcony as the wheels started turning in Vorcet's head. "I believe my work here is done, and I can say no more." Garlech said as he slipped through the doorway with his unnatural grace.
"I spend much of my time observing, it is our purpose." responded Garlech as he turned toward Vorcet. "What can I do for you?"
"A series of nagging questions regarding what the Black Church did to silence the gods here." Vorcet began carefully. "As I am sure you know all forms of contact with the gods has been cut. No answered prayers, no manifestations. Rumors fly as to what this means. Are the gods dead? or are they simply unable to interact with the prime material plane?"
"I believe this is the most I have heard you speak since you took up residence here Vorcet." Garlech responded with a ghost of a smirk on his face.
"I've lived a long life by human standards, I have learned the value of a carefully guarded tongue when it becomes necessary." Vorcet responded with a slight shrug of his shoulders. "Still, when there is something that is uncertain, such as the fate of our gods.... Im unable to help myself."
The slight smile slipped from Garlechs face as it fell back to the practiced expression of neutrality that was his norm. A few moments passed before he responded. "We know not the fate of the gods. However, were I an experienced wielder of magic, I might bend my time toward learning extra-planar travel."
Vorcet pondered that for a moment as he looked out over the lands beyond the island. "Planeswalking magics have been lost to us for hundreds of years." Vorcet mused more to himself than anything. "There has been the rare exceptions, but their secrets have always died with them."
"Are you so sure of that Vorcet?" Garlech responded carefuly. "The Netherese were planeswalkers. How much of their knowledge has been preserved?"
Silence fell on the balcony as the wheels started turning in Vorcet's head. "I believe my work here is done, and I can say no more." Garlech said as he slipped through the doorway with his unnatural grace.
Discussions
The clanning of Kronk and Orn was complete as Sanria sank behind her desk. She was happy to have her son among the ranks, happy to have Kronk finally given a home, but her concerns had nearly immediately turned to Ror again.
It had been some time since she'd spoken to the elf, a fact which didn't bother Sanria by any stretch. The less she had to speak to him, the better. It meant she wouldn't have to dredge up Throm again. But when they had spoken about Westbridge, her mind turned. She had been content to remain out of the fight, but lately her comfortability had begun to wane. Her answer was not sufficient. Knowing people were suffering still under the oppression of Vector, that she was content to sit back and do nothing, it sat heavily on her mind.
She breached the topic with Kineada, who was eager to hear the outcome of her conversation with Enmach - when she had it. But his question as to how they would manage such a feat strummed in Sanria's ears as she waited for her Argenach counsellor. In a flash of silver, Enmach appeared and bowed deeply. "You called, Lady Sanria?"
"Enmach, thank you so much for coming."
"Of course. What is it you wished to speak about with me?"
"Westbridge."
"The settlement to our east?"
"The same. It is overrun by Vector. TriPower had once deigned to clean up the city - had mounted forces to free the people of the tyranny there, but-"
"It has not come to pass. I am aware. And what would you determine to do?"
"I'm not certain, but... I do not believe it is a balancing force to have a government bent on oppression in power over such a diverse city."
"I would incline to agree, but are you speaking war?"
"No... not war. Just, an end to the tribulations."
Sanria watched as Enmach bowed her head, her fingers steepled at her lips. "This will require far more hands than what you have amassed, and this particular fight would be yours alone - the Rilmani could not step in to give aid."
"Why?"
"For the same reason we brought you here in the first place, Lady Sanria. Your Keepers are to help us maintain the mortal side. The... ah..."
"The fights too small for you to concern yourselves with," Sanria said pointedly, watching as Enmach merely bowed her head. "I see. But I don't even know where to begin."
"I suggest you call a meeting of your fellow leaders. Determine their mindset on the issue. Beyond that, you will need help, and lots of it. The potential for bringing disaster on yourselves is great."
"Nice to know you're honest. By the way... Sir Kineada sends his regards." Sanria chuckled inwardly as Enmach's face scrunched slightly.
"No. My answer still stands. I have no interest in his bedchambers."
"Suit yourself," Sanria shrugged. "Just know that he is quite tenacious."
Enmach scoffed and shook her head. In a flash she was gone, leaving Sanria to stare at her desk with a deep sigh. The time for doing nothing was gone, a comfort she could no longer afford. She would gather Kineada and Vorcet and determine their next course of action. It could no longer wait.
It had been some time since she'd spoken to the elf, a fact which didn't bother Sanria by any stretch. The less she had to speak to him, the better. It meant she wouldn't have to dredge up Throm again. But when they had spoken about Westbridge, her mind turned. She had been content to remain out of the fight, but lately her comfortability had begun to wane. Her answer was not sufficient. Knowing people were suffering still under the oppression of Vector, that she was content to sit back and do nothing, it sat heavily on her mind.
She breached the topic with Kineada, who was eager to hear the outcome of her conversation with Enmach - when she had it. But his question as to how they would manage such a feat strummed in Sanria's ears as she waited for her Argenach counsellor. In a flash of silver, Enmach appeared and bowed deeply. "You called, Lady Sanria?"
"Enmach, thank you so much for coming."
"Of course. What is it you wished to speak about with me?"
"Westbridge."
"The settlement to our east?"
"The same. It is overrun by Vector. TriPower had once deigned to clean up the city - had mounted forces to free the people of the tyranny there, but-"
"It has not come to pass. I am aware. And what would you determine to do?"
"I'm not certain, but... I do not believe it is a balancing force to have a government bent on oppression in power over such a diverse city."
"I would incline to agree, but are you speaking war?"
"No... not war. Just, an end to the tribulations."
Sanria watched as Enmach bowed her head, her fingers steepled at her lips. "This will require far more hands than what you have amassed, and this particular fight would be yours alone - the Rilmani could not step in to give aid."
"Why?"
"For the same reason we brought you here in the first place, Lady Sanria. Your Keepers are to help us maintain the mortal side. The... ah..."
"The fights too small for you to concern yourselves with," Sanria said pointedly, watching as Enmach merely bowed her head. "I see. But I don't even know where to begin."
"I suggest you call a meeting of your fellow leaders. Determine their mindset on the issue. Beyond that, you will need help, and lots of it. The potential for bringing disaster on yourselves is great."
"Nice to know you're honest. By the way... Sir Kineada sends his regards." Sanria chuckled inwardly as Enmach's face scrunched slightly.
"No. My answer still stands. I have no interest in his bedchambers."
"Suit yourself," Sanria shrugged. "Just know that he is quite tenacious."
Enmach scoffed and shook her head. In a flash she was gone, leaving Sanria to stare at her desk with a deep sigh. The time for doing nothing was gone, a comfort she could no longer afford. She would gather Kineada and Vorcet and determine their next course of action. It could no longer wait.
The Return
Walking through the forest, Ror placed his hand on a tree every few feet. As he closed his eyes, he concentrated. Where was it? It had been a long time, and the forest was a living thing. Living things
changed. Ror tapped into his memories and compared them to that of the trees. Gradually he came closer to what he was looking for.
Ror looked up at the wall of plants before him that blocked his path. "It's here."
With a single step, he stepped forward and pushed himself through the plants. The greenery swallowed him, and before he knew it, he was at the other side. He placed his foot on one of the many small rocks
in his vicinity and looked up at the giant tree that still grew here. Ror pressed on, climbing the rocks up towards the tree trunk.
He smiled as he noticed a weathered, wooden sign. The letters had faded, but he knew what they had said, once, they had spelled out "Welcome".
"I'm home."
changed. Ror tapped into his memories and compared them to that of the trees. Gradually he came closer to what he was looking for.
Ror looked up at the wall of plants before him that blocked his path. "It's here."
With a single step, he stepped forward and pushed himself through the plants. The greenery swallowed him, and before he knew it, he was at the other side. He placed his foot on one of the many small rocks
in his vicinity and looked up at the giant tree that still grew here. Ror pressed on, climbing the rocks up towards the tree trunk.
He smiled as he noticed a weathered, wooden sign. The letters had faded, but he knew what they had said, once, they had spelled out "Welcome".
"I'm home."
Renewed Vigor
Claire appeared in a flash of purple light that shot through Ruthivan's room, illuminating his sleeping form on the bed. Claire crept closer and looked down at him. He looked lost, haggard, scraggly, and most of all, exhausted. She loathed him, the way he had forced this link upon her, the way he had succeeded in tearing apart her life with Gilean. Yes, death would certainly end the bond, but to kill an esper - indeed to kill anyone - was beneath Claire's capacity. There had to be another way.
Claire stood there for a long moment, staring down at Ruthivan's sleeping form, and thought about leaving. But the smell of him, sweat - forest - leather, made her body dance with a charged energy. Every atom in her skin seemed to vibrate and as if calling out to his, they roused Ruthivan.
Claire held her breath as, by the light of her own purple skin, Ruthivan's dark red eyes locked onto her. She could see in that moment the confusion, the state of believing it to be a dream, then the realization that it wasn't. She loathed him. Yes, she truly did loathe him. But she felt herself willingly go as he pulled her to him. Like a drug, his kiss sent Claire into a swoon of intoxication. Logic could tell her why. But all logic had been left standing at the bedside.
"You can stay here with me, you know..."
"No. I can't."
"Why? Why not?" Claire rose from the bed and dressed, facing away from Ruthivan. "I just... can't. I'll bring the children to see you tomorrow but..." In a moment she was back at the cottage, slipping into her familiar bed. She knew Gilean was awake, but she couldn't bear to touch him. She wasn't sure he'd let her if she tried.
Claire stood there for a long moment, staring down at Ruthivan's sleeping form, and thought about leaving. But the smell of him, sweat - forest - leather, made her body dance with a charged energy. Every atom in her skin seemed to vibrate and as if calling out to his, they roused Ruthivan.
Claire held her breath as, by the light of her own purple skin, Ruthivan's dark red eyes locked onto her. She could see in that moment the confusion, the state of believing it to be a dream, then the realization that it wasn't. She loathed him. Yes, she truly did loathe him. But she felt herself willingly go as he pulled her to him. Like a drug, his kiss sent Claire into a swoon of intoxication. Logic could tell her why. But all logic had been left standing at the bedside.
"You can stay here with me, you know..."
"No. I can't."
"Why? Why not?" Claire rose from the bed and dressed, facing away from Ruthivan. "I just... can't. I'll bring the children to see you tomorrow but..." In a moment she was back at the cottage, slipping into her familiar bed. She knew Gilean was awake, but she couldn't bear to touch him. She wasn't sure he'd let her if she tried.
Lost and Found
Claire stared out of the window that faced the back of her cottage. She watched the lazy stream bubble and babble its way over the rocks, scattering the sunlight on its surface. She watched the tufts of pollen that dropped from the trees, glowing speckles that drifted on the light breeze. They had more freedom than she.
Night finally fell and the children were tucked away in bed. Claire sat with Gilean, watching him read in his chair, the firelight casting a deep yellow glow on his skin. From the corner of his eye, he looked over at her and closed his book. He gave a warm, though pitying smile. "You seem troubled," he said gently.
"I can't keep doing this, Gilean," Claire replied.
"Doing what?"
"Staying inside, locked away from life out of fear."
"There's nothing else we can do."
"I am going to go to him."
A sudden chill went through the room and Gilean looked down at his lap. Claire sighed lightly. "I know we have been trying to let this bond die, but it's not, Gilean. I am losing my mind."
"I just think that given time-"
"How much time? I'm... I'm miserable, Gilean. This method is not the answer. I'm not feeling less drawn to him, on the contrary, it's gotten worse."
"I don't know what else I can say," he whispered.
Claire's heart ached for Gilean. She hated what she did to him, hated making him hurt, but she could do nothing about what nature had placed between herself and Ruthivan. She stood up and walked over to Gilean, giving him a small hug, one that was meekly returned. "I'll be back." A nod was all she gained by way of a reply.
Night finally fell and the children were tucked away in bed. Claire sat with Gilean, watching him read in his chair, the firelight casting a deep yellow glow on his skin. From the corner of his eye, he looked over at her and closed his book. He gave a warm, though pitying smile. "You seem troubled," he said gently.
"I can't keep doing this, Gilean," Claire replied.
"Doing what?"
"Staying inside, locked away from life out of fear."
"There's nothing else we can do."
"I am going to go to him."
A sudden chill went through the room and Gilean looked down at his lap. Claire sighed lightly. "I know we have been trying to let this bond die, but it's not, Gilean. I am losing my mind."
"I just think that given time-"
"How much time? I'm... I'm miserable, Gilean. This method is not the answer. I'm not feeling less drawn to him, on the contrary, it's gotten worse."
"I don't know what else I can say," he whispered.
Claire's heart ached for Gilean. She hated what she did to him, hated making him hurt, but she could do nothing about what nature had placed between herself and Ruthivan. She stood up and walked over to Gilean, giving him a small hug, one that was meekly returned. "I'll be back." A nod was all she gained by way of a reply.
Mrs. Wolldon
Leandra looked down at the bundle in her arms. Truth was she was afraid of the tiny infant that lay there, sleeping. She'd never had a baby before and it hurt like hell. He came out screaming and didn't quiet until her mom put him in her arms. She was afraid because for the first time, Leandra realized she really was a mom and really did actually marry Askari. She realized they had no where to live but here with her mom and dad. She looked at Askari and saw that he was afraid, too.
Even the day of her wedding, as she and Askari stared at each other in the druid grove, even as the Elder Druid looked at them like they were too young but trying, even as she repeated the druid's words and squeezed Askari's hands and put the ring on his finger, she was afraid. Was the rest of her life going to be fear like this?
The baby (they couldn't even figure out what to name him yet) stirred and brought Leandra's eyes onto him. He was cute - with the dark hair of his dad and the dark eyes of his dad and the lighter red skin of his dad... and Leandra's mind wandered. Maybe Esper genes were stronger than human genes. Maybe.
Leandra called to her dad. She asked him to let her and Askari stay until they found their own house. She talked to Colin and felt her heart sink. She could tell he wasn't proud of her, maybe even embarrassed by her but he said that wasn't true. Then, Leandra's mind wandered to Nioma. She asked her father if he'd be telling the baby who her real dad was - but every time she asked, Colin just got mad. Like he didn't think she had a different dad... like he didn't care that she wouldn't know when she got bigger. Sometimes, though, it was good to know when to stop talking.
Askari came back into the room after her dad left, and Leandra looked at him closely. He was her husband now, and her baby's dad, and she did love him. She may not know everything about him yet, but she would, and even though things still didn't feel completely right, and even though she was still afraid, at least looking at him made her feel not alone. She would never again be alone.
Even the day of her wedding, as she and Askari stared at each other in the druid grove, even as the Elder Druid looked at them like they were too young but trying, even as she repeated the druid's words and squeezed Askari's hands and put the ring on his finger, she was afraid. Was the rest of her life going to be fear like this?
The baby (they couldn't even figure out what to name him yet) stirred and brought Leandra's eyes onto him. He was cute - with the dark hair of his dad and the dark eyes of his dad and the lighter red skin of his dad... and Leandra's mind wandered. Maybe Esper genes were stronger than human genes. Maybe.
Leandra called to her dad. She asked him to let her and Askari stay until they found their own house. She talked to Colin and felt her heart sink. She could tell he wasn't proud of her, maybe even embarrassed by her but he said that wasn't true. Then, Leandra's mind wandered to Nioma. She asked her father if he'd be telling the baby who her real dad was - but every time she asked, Colin just got mad. Like he didn't think she had a different dad... like he didn't care that she wouldn't know when she got bigger. Sometimes, though, it was good to know when to stop talking.
Askari came back into the room after her dad left, and Leandra looked at him closely. He was her husband now, and her baby's dad, and she did love him. She may not know everything about him yet, but she would, and even though things still didn't feel completely right, and even though she was still afraid, at least looking at him made her feel not alone. She would never again be alone.
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