The sunset sunk below the horizon, leaving behind deepening purple and gray. Sanria looked up to the dome of her observatory, noting the twinkling stars that were just beginning to wink to life. The tears were simply falling from her face now. With no one to hide it from, her grief wet her cheeks, her neck, and her robe.
Days before she had spent with Throm. Her sorrow did not stem at all from that. Indeed, she had been overjoyed to sit with him in the observatory, to eat with him, to admit that she was actually falling in love with him. They had a moonlit walk where they talked for hours, and sitting in his mansion drinking tea and cuddling was something that Sanria hadn't experienced in a long, long while.
The sun was up before she had even left his house - and she was almost tempted to stay in the guest room. Out of decency, however, she resigned to walk home no matter how fatigued she was. The smile she had plastered on her face never left, even though in the back of her mind, she waiting for something to go wrong. Inevitably, there was always something. No one was perfect. No one.She had gone home and slept for hours and found herself the next day sitting on a boulder beside the falls. The sun was arcing well past its zenith, but it still shed warmth and light through the trees and onto Sanria's face. She thought of the green eyes and found herself looking into a pair of them - but not the ones she expected. The brown clothed stranger had a certain ease about him that Sanria felt kindred to, as though she had known it long ago. He was soft spoken, even though neither of them had much to say. Out for a stroll was the traveler's reasoning - and it was as good as any.
Sanria parted with him and began walking behind the falls and into the cavern, when the distinct sense of being trailed caused her to turn around. She was in time to see the man take out a long staff and tap the hull of one of her ships. As she spoke to him, things became clearer until before she knew it, everything was painfully obvious. All she wanted to do, was prove to herself that this man was Ozymandias. "Do you remember a man named Thasmudyan? White clothing? Carver?"
"I met someone like that recently. He had set out on quite a long journey, I understand."
So Thasmudyan was indeed about. It wasn't that Sanria wished him dead, but when he was dead, things were much easier to deal with.
"Not long ago, near the place you call "Waterdeep". He mentioned you a few times." And now Sanria felt the full crushing blow of this chance meeting. He was alive, and right in the same place she had been.
She didn't want to ask, but she did... she had to know. "What did he say about me?"
"That you deserved better, mostly."
"Such a selfish, foolish thing to say." Sanria felt herself spiraling and took her leave of the man she hadn't seen since sparring with him in the cavern. This man had saved her life, and as she had found through the course of their conversation, had saved Emalia's too. But oh...
Sanria made her way into her house, her body sliding against the walls as she walked the stairs all the way to the observatory. She screamed, she ripped ivy from the walls and threw the leaves upon the floor like ejected butterflies. She slammed herself into the throne that sat in the center of the room and sobbed until she felt she couldn't sob any more. Finally, she got up, and walked to the window where, despite her best efforts, the salt-water tears continued pouring down her face.
She knew now where Emalia was. And she knew now where she was. Her husband was no longer hers. He belonged to a past now that was not to be recovered. She was alone in her home, but now that the door had finally, in her eyes, been closed - she realized she was not completely left in a void. As her tears rolled, she thought of a pair of green eyes and on some level it comforted her to know that he, too, might be watching the same colors bleed from the sky.
When Night Becomes Day
Staring out through the window which looked out over the city of Westbridge, the corners of Throm's mouth rose slightly into that of a smile at the sight of the sun taking shape at the horizon's edge. He had been leaning against the glass panes for the past ten minutes at least. Though fatigued, sleep had failed to meet him this past night.
"Worth every second of slumber missed..." He whispered to himself, raising an eyebrow in irritation as the breath from his words fogged up the window. Reaching out a hand he wiped the condensation clear with a gloved palm. Once again he had been lost within thoughts of the previous day, unto the dawn of this very one. Once again, Sanria had been party to the thoughts running rampant within his mind. This was the second time that Throm had been witness to the splendor that was her Observatory. This time it was different however. Its beauty had seemed somehow magnified, though he was certain it was due to the fact that he was looking at her through different eyes.
Finding a smile upon his face once again, he shook it off moving slowly from the window. He had been sorry to see her go, nearly wishing he could freeze time so as to allow himself the ability to say all he wanted to say. Chastizing himself, he sank into the chair behind his desk. Wondering for a moment how many times he had second guessed himself these past few weeks, he shook such thoughts off as one would water from the hair, tiny particles of doubt still lingering. Speaking to the invisible woman who had left the manor hours ago, he whispered. "We spoke of demons. Would you wish to be around me further if you knew the ones I carried?"
Sighing, he rubbed the side of his jaw, thinking about perhaps getting some sleep for a bit. Suddenly a very masculine voice sounded out directly behind him. "Why yes Throm I would!"
Gasping in surprise, Throm jumped up, kicking the chair behind him as hard as he could towards his intruder. Diving over his desk, he bearhugged the weapon harness he had earlier slung so carelessly at the windowsill. Landing upon his chest, he heard the sound of the chair hitting the wall with a dull thud. It had clearly missed its target. Rolling onto his back, Throm jumped to the floor, drawing a large sword simultaneously, of which he pointed at the shadowed figure near the balcony. A chuckle sounded out from the figure who clapped his hands once together, stepping forward into the light revealing his black cloaked form. Still chuckling, the figure reached down and picked the chair up from where it had bounced off of the wall.
Replacing it behind the desk, he nodded towards Throm, the hem of his hood falling back slightly to reveal a lock of pure white hair. Swiping his sword through the air, Throm angrily replaced the blade in its holster. "How did you get in here?"
Giving an exaggerated shrug, the other man simply stated. "You put the enchantments on this particular tower, perhaps you would be better suited to explain it."
The now fully awake Throm finally steadied his breath, nodding for the other man to take a seat. The man shook his head once slowly. "I'm sorry...I cannot stay. I came simply to let you know that I am happy for you."
"How did you--"
"It is my job to be in the know."
The figure cut him off. Nodding, Throm managed a small smile. "Of course...thank you."
Without a word the figure turned into the last of the morning shadows which lingered about the room and was gone. Laughing in spite of himself, Throm shook his head. Perhaps at least one of his demons had been lifted after all.
"Worth every second of slumber missed..." He whispered to himself, raising an eyebrow in irritation as the breath from his words fogged up the window. Reaching out a hand he wiped the condensation clear with a gloved palm. Once again he had been lost within thoughts of the previous day, unto the dawn of this very one. Once again, Sanria had been party to the thoughts running rampant within his mind. This was the second time that Throm had been witness to the splendor that was her Observatory. This time it was different however. Its beauty had seemed somehow magnified, though he was certain it was due to the fact that he was looking at her through different eyes.
Finding a smile upon his face once again, he shook it off moving slowly from the window. He had been sorry to see her go, nearly wishing he could freeze time so as to allow himself the ability to say all he wanted to say. Chastizing himself, he sank into the chair behind his desk. Wondering for a moment how many times he had second guessed himself these past few weeks, he shook such thoughts off as one would water from the hair, tiny particles of doubt still lingering. Speaking to the invisible woman who had left the manor hours ago, he whispered. "We spoke of demons. Would you wish to be around me further if you knew the ones I carried?"
Sighing, he rubbed the side of his jaw, thinking about perhaps getting some sleep for a bit. Suddenly a very masculine voice sounded out directly behind him. "Why yes Throm I would!"
Gasping in surprise, Throm jumped up, kicking the chair behind him as hard as he could towards his intruder. Diving over his desk, he bearhugged the weapon harness he had earlier slung so carelessly at the windowsill. Landing upon his chest, he heard the sound of the chair hitting the wall with a dull thud. It had clearly missed its target. Rolling onto his back, Throm jumped to the floor, drawing a large sword simultaneously, of which he pointed at the shadowed figure near the balcony. A chuckle sounded out from the figure who clapped his hands once together, stepping forward into the light revealing his black cloaked form. Still chuckling, the figure reached down and picked the chair up from where it had bounced off of the wall.
Replacing it behind the desk, he nodded towards Throm, the hem of his hood falling back slightly to reveal a lock of pure white hair. Swiping his sword through the air, Throm angrily replaced the blade in its holster. "How did you get in here?"
Giving an exaggerated shrug, the other man simply stated. "You put the enchantments on this particular tower, perhaps you would be better suited to explain it."
The now fully awake Throm finally steadied his breath, nodding for the other man to take a seat. The man shook his head once slowly. "I'm sorry...I cannot stay. I came simply to let you know that I am happy for you."
"How did you--"
"It is my job to be in the know."
The figure cut him off. Nodding, Throm managed a small smile. "Of course...thank you."
Without a word the figure turned into the last of the morning shadows which lingered about the room and was gone. Laughing in spite of himself, Throm shook his head. Perhaps at least one of his demons had been lifted after all.
A Date?
Sanria lay in her bed staring up at the vaulted ceiling and the comforting twinkle of the crystals. Her hand rested on her stomach, easily rising up and down with each measured breath she took. The sound of the waterfall gave everything within the appearance of a peaceful room, but did little to soothe the torrent that swirled within Sanria.
She hadn't honestly expected to see Throm so soon after his missive had arrived, but as she went out to gather herbs, there he was. Sanria led him to the grove to join her in gathering valerian where they had a wonderful time simply talking. She told him of Lady Kitiara's garden and her wedding there so long ago. She looked over at him so many times part of her hoping once again to see familiar white robes and brown eyes, but they were not there. It was in fact a compliment that she felt so at east with Throm that she could slip into a comfortability much like she had long ago, but her heart still ached. With time, however, she was beginning to see that she had to let go of the past and as the time passed with Throm, and she began to see him for himself, the more she realized that things might end up ok.
At the Prancing Stallion, they had roast, and for the first time - it was different. Though she had been to this place so many times before, it was new. Sitting across from him with the candle between them, she began to discover a deep attraction. She could see herself with this man for the rest of her days. They sat then, side by side on the soft cushion, her head on his shoulder just talking. She felt like a girl again.
They then went to Crystabelle Village - a place where Sanria had never been. They were like children as they laughed and fought with tickling feathers - and the kiss that came as a form of truce nearly melted Sanria. She did attempt to adjust her thinking at that point - it was nothing more than a somewhat playful overture, but she spent the rest of the time in the deep hope that it would happen again. It was not in vain, for as they parted ways, Sanria was given the very thing she desired. Her hands held both sides of Throm's face and for a long moment, she looked up into the green eyes and her heart and mind raced.
Why, then, she was laying here so tormented was beyond her. Why was she still clinging to a marriage that was explicitly ended, when fate (and life it seemed) was offering her a new opportunity at what could be absolutely wonderful? How was it that already she could see herself falling in love with a man she barely knew? Sanria rolled over, putting her face in her bed as she slammed her fist into the covers.
"Damn it, Thasmudyan. Why?"
She hadn't honestly expected to see Throm so soon after his missive had arrived, but as she went out to gather herbs, there he was. Sanria led him to the grove to join her in gathering valerian where they had a wonderful time simply talking. She told him of Lady Kitiara's garden and her wedding there so long ago. She looked over at him so many times part of her hoping once again to see familiar white robes and brown eyes, but they were not there. It was in fact a compliment that she felt so at east with Throm that she could slip into a comfortability much like she had long ago, but her heart still ached. With time, however, she was beginning to see that she had to let go of the past and as the time passed with Throm, and she began to see him for himself, the more she realized that things might end up ok.
At the Prancing Stallion, they had roast, and for the first time - it was different. Though she had been to this place so many times before, it was new. Sitting across from him with the candle between them, she began to discover a deep attraction. She could see herself with this man for the rest of her days. They sat then, side by side on the soft cushion, her head on his shoulder just talking. She felt like a girl again.
They then went to Crystabelle Village - a place where Sanria had never been. They were like children as they laughed and fought with tickling feathers - and the kiss that came as a form of truce nearly melted Sanria. She did attempt to adjust her thinking at that point - it was nothing more than a somewhat playful overture, but she spent the rest of the time in the deep hope that it would happen again. It was not in vain, for as they parted ways, Sanria was given the very thing she desired. Her hands held both sides of Throm's face and for a long moment, she looked up into the green eyes and her heart and mind raced.
Why, then, she was laying here so tormented was beyond her. Why was she still clinging to a marriage that was explicitly ended, when fate (and life it seemed) was offering her a new opportunity at what could be absolutely wonderful? How was it that already she could see herself falling in love with a man she barely knew? Sanria rolled over, putting her face in her bed as she slammed her fist into the covers.
"Damn it, Thasmudyan. Why?"
A Continent Away
Sitting within steamed confines of the Bathing room, Throm had lost himself for perhaps the last hour within the warm waters of the hot tub. For one who always knew himself to predict the turns of future events, he was at a loss. This did not bring him concern however. No, he was far too lost within his thoughts of his own to be worried over trivial things as that. From curious to intrigue. From intrigue to like. From like to attraction. And from attraction affection. These were waters he had thought he could never tread again. Allowing a small shrug to himself, he recounted that this had not been the first time he'd been mistaken. "Snowball drink?"
Snapped out of his reverie he looked at the winged man standing before him, and blinked himself back into reality. "No thank you Sirim, all is well over here."
Nodding the man retreated back into the mists of the steam which concealed the better part of the room. Throm allowed himself to slip back into his thoughts, sinking lower into the water. His sides still hurt from laughing so hard. He could still taste her kiss upon his lips. The morning had begun with a visit to see Sanria for tea as they had both wished in their letters. What what was going to be had turned into an herb gathering escapade within forests in which Sanria was raised. What words had said on parchment, both had confirmed with words at the Prancing Stallion Tavern over one of the best roast dinners Throm had yet to encounter. And then there was the Village. He had always known it to be a magical place, however the magic it would hold now would forever be a different one indeed to him.
Still, there were the questions of his origin. He had managed to dance around them many times in the past. Jokes when referencing his past, would only hold up so long, this he knew. Eventually such a time would come, when he would be forced to make a choice. Either tell all, or carry on as he had these many years. Shaking off such dark feelings, he smiled once again at the thought of the day the both of them had together and gave himself up to the better part of his mood.
Snapped out of his reverie he looked at the winged man standing before him, and blinked himself back into reality. "No thank you Sirim, all is well over here."
Nodding the man retreated back into the mists of the steam which concealed the better part of the room. Throm allowed himself to slip back into his thoughts, sinking lower into the water. His sides still hurt from laughing so hard. He could still taste her kiss upon his lips. The morning had begun with a visit to see Sanria for tea as they had both wished in their letters. What what was going to be had turned into an herb gathering escapade within forests in which Sanria was raised. What words had said on parchment, both had confirmed with words at the Prancing Stallion Tavern over one of the best roast dinners Throm had yet to encounter. And then there was the Village. He had always known it to be a magical place, however the magic it would hold now would forever be a different one indeed to him.
Still, there were the questions of his origin. He had managed to dance around them many times in the past. Jokes when referencing his past, would only hold up so long, this he knew. Eventually such a time would come, when he would be forced to make a choice. Either tell all, or carry on as he had these many years. Shaking off such dark feelings, he smiled once again at the thought of the day the both of them had together and gave himself up to the better part of his mood.
Time Spent
Sanria sat in her kitchen, both her hands upon a single piece of parchment. She stared at the rolling script, touching it every now and again as though the very act would bring forth the author. It wasn't a goodbye note she held in her hand, it held more of a promising outlook. Throm would join her for tea.
Sanria carefully laid the missive on the table and slid her hands around the cup of slowly cooling tea before her. A small ball of doubt sat in the center of her stomach, preventing her from even taking a sip. Thasmudyan told her to move ahead, to go on with life. She was trying, but it was hard to let go of one aspect of that life, and deal with the others. What would Tarran think? What would Emalia think?
What, at any rate, was happening with Emalia? Sanria had no clue where her daughter was, how she was, or even if she still lived. In a way, she was afraid to find out. She still recalled a time when Nanashi talked to her of bringing down the Rok, as well as Thasmudyan, rushing to find her and inform her of Sephiroth speaking to the masses. How Emalia could fall in line with thoughts like those that Nanashi had spoken to her years past, puzzled her. But to try to speak to her daughter about it could only end in the same type of disaster as the last time she tried.
Sanria shook her head and again and let go of the cup, taking hold of Throm's note in both her hands. Her eyes were drawn to a single passage and like a girl, she read it again and again to drown out all her other thoughts save one: "Truth be told I have enjoyed our meetings, no I have looked forward to them in a sense that I have failed to express before in our conversations. I must say that I admire your candor, for it is one that I did not possess when I felt the same way towards you."
Sanria carefully laid the missive on the table and slid her hands around the cup of slowly cooling tea before her. A small ball of doubt sat in the center of her stomach, preventing her from even taking a sip. Thasmudyan told her to move ahead, to go on with life. She was trying, but it was hard to let go of one aspect of that life, and deal with the others. What would Tarran think? What would Emalia think?
What, at any rate, was happening with Emalia? Sanria had no clue where her daughter was, how she was, or even if she still lived. In a way, she was afraid to find out. She still recalled a time when Nanashi talked to her of bringing down the Rok, as well as Thasmudyan, rushing to find her and inform her of Sephiroth speaking to the masses. How Emalia could fall in line with thoughts like those that Nanashi had spoken to her years past, puzzled her. But to try to speak to her daughter about it could only end in the same type of disaster as the last time she tried.
Sanria shook her head and again and let go of the cup, taking hold of Throm's note in both her hands. Her eyes were drawn to a single passage and like a girl, she read it again and again to drown out all her other thoughts save one: "Truth be told I have enjoyed our meetings, no I have looked forward to them in a sense that I have failed to express before in our conversations. I must say that I admire your candor, for it is one that I did not possess when I felt the same way towards you."
Torment Investigation
Psycho heard whispers and talk of torment and disturbance among his flock. He went to Willow Lake an instantly felt that there was still disturbance and pain so close to home. The lake's surface was laden with a fading energy of malevolent intent. The mighty guardian treant brought images of the Forest of Good and Evil. There must be something he wasn't seeing something below the surface of this once peaceful sanctuary of the Rivenshield Temptress.
'What evil has come and lain in my domain' Psycho asked the Treant. The treant's responce was like much the treants do, slow....'There ... has been . some- ..thing in ..the' The Treant began. 'The Lake ... yes i know. Aren’t you the guardian here what presence has been here' Psycho exclaimed impatient
'Nothing I have seen Nothing I could have done.' The Treant says a little quicker Psycho is obviously a little flustered and angry. 'I will get some information and you will help me.'
Many of the flames surrounding Psycho flare as the anger fuels the chaos inside of Psycho. He moves over the the Treant and some of the flames creep slowly over the ground the Treant stands upon. The flames seem to melt into the ground burrowing and nesting among the banks of the water. He begins to get a sour taste in his mouth as he exclaims 'There is a strange and powerful magic the likes of which I have known.' I also detect signs of a faded poison and there is still much of it here.
After placing a small trap of his own Psycho sneers and leaves determined to discover more information. His next focus is on the Forest of Good and Evil. He is determined to see if the Guardians of that forest have any information on the poison or the events surrounding Willow Lake.
'What evil has come and lain in my domain' Psycho asked the Treant. The treant's responce was like much the treants do, slow....'There ... has been . some- ..thing in ..the' The Treant began. 'The Lake ... yes i know. Aren’t you the guardian here what presence has been here' Psycho exclaimed impatient
'Nothing I have seen Nothing I could have done.' The Treant says a little quicker Psycho is obviously a little flustered and angry. 'I will get some information and you will help me.'
Many of the flames surrounding Psycho flare as the anger fuels the chaos inside of Psycho. He moves over the the Treant and some of the flames creep slowly over the ground the Treant stands upon. The flames seem to melt into the ground burrowing and nesting among the banks of the water. He begins to get a sour taste in his mouth as he exclaims 'There is a strange and powerful magic the likes of which I have known.' I also detect signs of a faded poison and there is still much of it here.
After placing a small trap of his own Psycho sneers and leaves determined to discover more information. His next focus is on the Forest of Good and Evil. He is determined to see if the Guardians of that forest have any information on the poison or the events surrounding Willow Lake.
A Flashback
After being pulled from Willow Lake by Khyron's spell, Dorian spent many days in disoriented confusion. Nightmares tormented her sporadic sleep, her non-sleeping hours where plagued by illusions.
Out of necessity, Dorian spent most of each of those times in the company of the Apostles' healer, questions constantly running through her confused mind. "What was it?" "How?" Then once the healers spells took more affect, "Why?"
Only one answer to each of the questions made any sense. Keldon. 'They' are once again looking for Keldon.'
"My lakes pollution, it has to be from those who seek what should not be found. Now is not the time," runs constantly through Dorian's mind. "Perhaps the one that bears the Crimson flag. She might be the one. I need to find her."
With that thought playing round and round in her head, Dorian sets out in search, knowing Sune will guide her.
Out of necessity, Dorian spent most of each of those times in the company of the Apostles' healer, questions constantly running through her confused mind. "What was it?" "How?" Then once the healers spells took more affect, "Why?"
Only one answer to each of the questions made any sense. Keldon. 'They' are once again looking for Keldon.'
"My lakes pollution, it has to be from those who seek what should not be found. Now is not the time," runs constantly through Dorian's mind. "Perhaps the one that bears the Crimson flag. She might be the one. I need to find her."
With that thought playing round and round in her head, Dorian sets out in search, knowing Sune will guide her.
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