Ahdonis stared across his flower garden. He was amazed, so much care had been put into this garden. To think this garden started because a lone red tulip was found growing in the most morbid of places he had come across. When he had returned from the adventure, he planted the most beautiful red tulip in a pot on the roof of the citadel. Everyone enjoyed the smell as well as the sight of the tulip. Then another day Kole, returned returned to the citadel with a beautiful white poppy plant. And another plant found its way potted and on the roof. And so a trend began. It got to the point that the majority of the roof was covered with potted plants. During the reconstruction of the citadel, it was decided that a flower garden would be added within it walls. It had teken months to find the best soil to allow these flowers to not only grow but to flourish. Ahdonis found himself spending hours everyday within the garden. It was his peaceful place. Not a weed could be found within it. Butterflies danced atop the flowers with such elegance.
Suddenly something caught the corner of his eye. It stood almost transluscent but its shape was a women. She was brushing her hands on the flowers as she took in all the smells. "Who goes there?" Ahdonis shouted puzzledly towards the miraged women. She turned and smiled, "I just came to enjoy your garden. Not many flower gardens exist with such beautiful flowers." Ahdonis smirked at the mirage, "Indeed, its the smell I think I enjoy the most." She smiles brightly, "I agree." Ahdonis smiles and asks, "I am Ahdonis. Do you have a name?" Bowing her head into the flower and taking in the smell she stares at ahdonis. "I am lliira." The name sounded familiar to Ahdonis but he wasnt sure why. "Nice to meet you, Lliira."
TO BE CONTINUED..........
Progress
Aneh gave a nod to her assistant as she stood in front of the glass case holding almost identical stones of materia. Her assistant stood at the ready, already beginning to weave her spell of replenishment. Aneh frowned a bit and held up a hand, halting her assistant as she spied the entry of one of the guards. She motioned the guard forward having him halt at the edge of the safety circle. 'What is it?' Aneh asked, her frown still in place. 'You've been promoted Ma'am,' the guard stated. Aneh raised a brow, tilting her head, 'Oh?' Aneh listened to the report the guard gave on Mason, her frown running deeper. Damn, was all she could think. Damn him, and Damn Vector. When the guard told Aneh she had been promoted to leader, Aneh's only response was a curt, tight lipped nod. Forcing herself to breathe evenly, Aneh brought her thoughts back to the present and she murmured a dismissal to the guard.
Aneh swung her eyes back to the case in front of her. She dismissed her assistant and grabbed a stone firmly in each hand. Before she could even second guess her decision she let her energy burst into the stones. She quickly clapped the stones together forming one continuous loop of energy which she quickly built and built, higher and higher, her entire body heating up.
Aneh's assistant quickly left the safety circle, her eyes wide as she felt the force of the energy flow that Aneh was using. Aneh let all of her anger and frustration build the energy she focused into the stones. Her eyes fluttered closed somewhere in the process and she pried them back open, feeling the glow that radiated from them. She felt every hot breath that escaped her lips and every pulse of energy that flowed into one hand, up her arm, swirling frantically through her body and rush down into her other hand and the stone it held. She tensed as a flutter began in her stomach and she stopped pushing, allowing the frantic flood of magic to continue. She was extremely aware of the heat that built in the stones, linked to the heat that built in her stomach. Her eyes stared into the stones, seeing not their current form, but what was within, the essence they held. Aneh glimpsed the life that had lived. She felt what that soul had felt. She experienced the life of the soul in a few beats of her own heart, and in some way shared her own frustration, pain, and love with the soul. Aneh's assistant felt a waver in the energy and against her dismissal from the circle, she re-entered, uttering words of replenishment. The flow became steady once again.
The heat of the stones grew, and Aneh let out a loud cry, so deep in the sharing of the moment was she that she had not realized the stones were burning the palms of her hands. The fluttering in her stomach made her ill and she hastily dropped the stones, just in time as a brilliant green light filled the immediate area. The stones cracked and split, and Aneh leaned to the side, promptly expelling the entire contents of her stomach on the polished floor. She held her hands upward, their blistered palms pulsing with pain.
Mentally Aneh reprimanded herself. She stood up straight, ignoring the pain in her hands as she looked down upon the stones piled on the silken material and felt a weight of responsibility settle around her shoulders. 'Shall I call for the healer?' her assistant asked, obviously unsure of herself with the way Aneh was acting. Aneh peeled her eyes away from the now four stones and looked over to the lich.
'Thank you for stepping in,' Aneh murmured to her assistant, ignoring the question of the healer. 'One more push and we should be ready to move forward.' Aneh slumped a bit, and curled her burnt and blistered hands into fists. 'There are matters I need to see to. Please see that everything gets closed up.' Without waiting for a response, Aneh marched from the room.
Aneh swung her eyes back to the case in front of her. She dismissed her assistant and grabbed a stone firmly in each hand. Before she could even second guess her decision she let her energy burst into the stones. She quickly clapped the stones together forming one continuous loop of energy which she quickly built and built, higher and higher, her entire body heating up.
Aneh's assistant quickly left the safety circle, her eyes wide as she felt the force of the energy flow that Aneh was using. Aneh let all of her anger and frustration build the energy she focused into the stones. Her eyes fluttered closed somewhere in the process and she pried them back open, feeling the glow that radiated from them. She felt every hot breath that escaped her lips and every pulse of energy that flowed into one hand, up her arm, swirling frantically through her body and rush down into her other hand and the stone it held. She tensed as a flutter began in her stomach and she stopped pushing, allowing the frantic flood of magic to continue. She was extremely aware of the heat that built in the stones, linked to the heat that built in her stomach. Her eyes stared into the stones, seeing not their current form, but what was within, the essence they held. Aneh glimpsed the life that had lived. She felt what that soul had felt. She experienced the life of the soul in a few beats of her own heart, and in some way shared her own frustration, pain, and love with the soul. Aneh's assistant felt a waver in the energy and against her dismissal from the circle, she re-entered, uttering words of replenishment. The flow became steady once again.
The heat of the stones grew, and Aneh let out a loud cry, so deep in the sharing of the moment was she that she had not realized the stones were burning the palms of her hands. The fluttering in her stomach made her ill and she hastily dropped the stones, just in time as a brilliant green light filled the immediate area. The stones cracked and split, and Aneh leaned to the side, promptly expelling the entire contents of her stomach on the polished floor. She held her hands upward, their blistered palms pulsing with pain.
Mentally Aneh reprimanded herself. She stood up straight, ignoring the pain in her hands as she looked down upon the stones piled on the silken material and felt a weight of responsibility settle around her shoulders. 'Shall I call for the healer?' her assistant asked, obviously unsure of herself with the way Aneh was acting. Aneh peeled her eyes away from the now four stones and looked over to the lich.
'Thank you for stepping in,' Aneh murmured to her assistant, ignoring the question of the healer. 'One more push and we should be ready to move forward.' Aneh slumped a bit, and curled her burnt and blistered hands into fists. 'There are matters I need to see to. Please see that everything gets closed up.' Without waiting for a response, Aneh marched from the room.
Searching for Success only to Fail
Tenchi had visited many different apothecaries, and all of them had seen his legs, yet none of them could figure out what was happening to his legs. They all concurred that it indeed seemed to be a poison, eating his legs away slowly, and if it were not for his natural racial regenerative abilities, it would have spread much quicker. Instead, his abilities only slowed it down, it was still spreading.
One apothecary mentioned, as a joke, that because Tenchi was an esper he could afford to lose his legs as they would eventually regenerate. Tenchi started to seriously consider this, his ability to walk becoming increasingly more difficult, relying more and more on the cane he now carried. Soon he may not be able to walk at all, at least it was a chance even if it was risky, after all what did he have left to lose?
Tenchi began to think who he could ask to perform such a task, he had to be very careful in choosing if he did take this path. There were benefits to this choice, after his legs were removed he could give them to be researched, to find out how this poison was made, or even what this poisons purpose was.
He began putting a plan together in his mind.
One apothecary mentioned, as a joke, that because Tenchi was an esper he could afford to lose his legs as they would eventually regenerate. Tenchi started to seriously consider this, his ability to walk becoming increasingly more difficult, relying more and more on the cane he now carried. Soon he may not be able to walk at all, at least it was a chance even if it was risky, after all what did he have left to lose?
Tenchi began to think who he could ask to perform such a task, he had to be very careful in choosing if he did take this path. There were benefits to this choice, after his legs were removed he could give them to be researched, to find out how this poison was made, or even what this poisons purpose was.
He began putting a plan together in his mind.
Signals
Matinus kept glancing out of the corner of his eye. It was strange watching his mom - well, his step-mom - sitting beside Colin on the grass. His attention would be pulled when Nioma would find a weird-shaped rock or something equally silly to show him, but Matinus kept looking and feeling.
It was a different love than what he felt when Sanria and his dad were together. She loved her dad and was protective of him, but the feeling Matinus felt was how when his dad and Sanria were together, their hearts kinda melted into one another. She adored his dad. With Colin, though, it was different. Matinus could feel something more here, something old that wasn't as lovely as what he'd been feeling when his dad and Sanria were together. He put his finger on it at the same moment Nioma splashed him by dropping a large stone in the stream. Colin was scared, Sanria knew it.
Matinus wiped the water from his cheek and snapped at Nioma. She looked sad for a moment, then chased after a squirrel. He sat there, feeling more. Colin was scared of something and it made him want Sanria all to himself. But, Sanria, mom, didn't feel the same. Like she knew he was afraid and it made her tired. Like she was being nice. Like she loved him less than she loved his dad.
Matinus kept stealing glances and feelings, but for a moment he was happy. He felt Sanria loved his dad more. Then they kissed and Matinus had to look away. It just looked wrong. He was happy, sure, that all the adults were getting along, but he found himself wishing it was just his dad again. Like Sanria belonged to his dad, not to two guys.
He sighed as Nioma came up, waving a muddy stick around. He shooed her away, then his mom got up and Colin got up and their time was at an end. Nioma led the way back through the forest, skipping and singing at the top of her lungs, then Sanria and Colin, then Matinus - watching, feeling, ingesting. He wasn't really sure how to feel. This whole thing was a little more than confusing. It was awkward.
It was a different love than what he felt when Sanria and his dad were together. She loved her dad and was protective of him, but the feeling Matinus felt was how when his dad and Sanria were together, their hearts kinda melted into one another. She adored his dad. With Colin, though, it was different. Matinus could feel something more here, something old that wasn't as lovely as what he'd been feeling when his dad and Sanria were together. He put his finger on it at the same moment Nioma splashed him by dropping a large stone in the stream. Colin was scared, Sanria knew it.
Matinus wiped the water from his cheek and snapped at Nioma. She looked sad for a moment, then chased after a squirrel. He sat there, feeling more. Colin was scared of something and it made him want Sanria all to himself. But, Sanria, mom, didn't feel the same. Like she knew he was afraid and it made her tired. Like she was being nice. Like she loved him less than she loved his dad.
Matinus kept stealing glances and feelings, but for a moment he was happy. He felt Sanria loved his dad more. Then they kissed and Matinus had to look away. It just looked wrong. He was happy, sure, that all the adults were getting along, but he found himself wishing it was just his dad again. Like Sanria belonged to his dad, not to two guys.
He sighed as Nioma came up, waving a muddy stick around. He shooed her away, then his mom got up and Colin got up and their time was at an end. Nioma led the way back through the forest, skipping and singing at the top of her lungs, then Sanria and Colin, then Matinus - watching, feeling, ingesting. He wasn't really sure how to feel. This whole thing was a little more than confusing. It was awkward.
The End Is Where We Begin II/II
As the last of the incantations died away, Ror examined the container and smirked, "Really, did you think we would let you get away just like that?" He spoke to Mason's soul in its prison. He turned to the guards, "Get rid of that. His corporeal remains are worth nothing, but if you let them lie about it will bloat and stink." That said, Ror walked away with the container to the laboratory, the metal chain thrown over his shoulder, dangling just above the ground.
The guards nodded, and one bend over to check the body whether it was still alive. Funny how humans could act in such situations. "He's dead," said the guard, stating the obvious. "No pulse, no breathing and no use for us. Let's finish the job and dispose of his body." Together they picked up Mason's corpse and dragged it to the highest cliff of Torregiano where they threw it into the deap sea. There it would rot and serve as fish food or perhaps wash ashore somewhere, but this was of no concern to the Tripower anymore.
Meanwhile in the laboratory, Ror had installed the container in his latest experimental device. Originally he had intended to use it for materia experimentation, to help his fiancee. But a soul would do too. Having slotted the container into place he adjusted the crystals and runes a bit before starting. And so, in the early hours of the morning, the soul of Mason was subject to a torturous experiment in which Ror unravelled the soul like one would unravel a ball of yarn, or a spider web. The sage didn't look away. On contrary, there was a fire in his eyes that burned brightly as he watched the process of Mason's soul deliberately being pulled apart bit by bit by Ror's magic and equipment in this experiment.
And Ror learned as Mason's soul was torn apart and disintegrated. Never would it join the lifestream: its memories and essence lost forever, save the knowledge Ror learned in return. Such irony, thought Ror, that a man who would be known as the most incompetent leader the Tripower had ever seen, would serve the Kingdom one last time in his final hour.
After the last of Mason's soul had disintegrated into nothing for good, Ror switched the experiment off and sat down. "I need to write this down," he thought, and he grabbed his research journal to start making notes.
But instead he wrote down,"The End Is Where We Begin," and he placed the feather back in the ink. He sat there in silent contemplation, until the sun came up.
The guards nodded, and one bend over to check the body whether it was still alive. Funny how humans could act in such situations. "He's dead," said the guard, stating the obvious. "No pulse, no breathing and no use for us. Let's finish the job and dispose of his body." Together they picked up Mason's corpse and dragged it to the highest cliff of Torregiano where they threw it into the deap sea. There it would rot and serve as fish food or perhaps wash ashore somewhere, but this was of no concern to the Tripower anymore.
Meanwhile in the laboratory, Ror had installed the container in his latest experimental device. Originally he had intended to use it for materia experimentation, to help his fiancee. But a soul would do too. Having slotted the container into place he adjusted the crystals and runes a bit before starting. And so, in the early hours of the morning, the soul of Mason was subject to a torturous experiment in which Ror unravelled the soul like one would unravel a ball of yarn, or a spider web. The sage didn't look away. On contrary, there was a fire in his eyes that burned brightly as he watched the process of Mason's soul deliberately being pulled apart bit by bit by Ror's magic and equipment in this experiment.
And Ror learned as Mason's soul was torn apart and disintegrated. Never would it join the lifestream: its memories and essence lost forever, save the knowledge Ror learned in return. Such irony, thought Ror, that a man who would be known as the most incompetent leader the Tripower had ever seen, would serve the Kingdom one last time in his final hour.
After the last of Mason's soul had disintegrated into nothing for good, Ror switched the experiment off and sat down. "I need to write this down," he thought, and he grabbed his research journal to start making notes.
But instead he wrote down,"The End Is Where We Begin," and he placed the feather back in the ink. He sat there in silent contemplation, until the sun came up.
The End Is Where We Begin I/II
An officer stood before Ror's desk. Hands on his back, waiting. Behind the desk Ror was studying a six page internal report. There was a frown on the elf's face as he read the report carefully, and with each page the frown turned deeper. When he was done, he tossed the report on his desk and sighed, squeezing the bridge of his nose with two fingers.
"Sir?" Asked the officer, and Ror raised his hand only to drop it back onto the leather armchair. After a moment, he let go of his nosebridge and eyed the report on the table. "So... Mason has been dealing with Vector..." The officer looked down at the report and then said, "Sir, there's more than that: allegations of corruption, power abuse, general negligence of duties..."
"I already knew Mason was incompetent," interjected Ror. "But that's something else than being a traitor." The officer fell silent, then curtly nodded. Ror waited, and let this sink in a bit. The officer forced to wait with him. After some time Ror made his decision and opened a desk drawer. Inside were two black leather gloves. He took them out and put the first of two on before the other. It was a tight fit. As he stood up, the officer said, "Sir?"
Ror ignored him for a moment as he took a black coat from the coatstand and wore it. Before exiting his office, he turned and said to the officer, "Tell Aneh she's been promoted to leadership. I'll deal with Mason." Ror's face was grim and serious. He closed the door behind him, leaving a saluting officer behind in his office.
The halls of the Tripower were silent as the lone figure of Mason skulked through them, until he eventually encountered clan guards. Ror watched from the shadows the display of bloody violence as Mason found his deserved end at the hands of the instructed guards.
On this world all life is connected to the Lifestream. In a way life itself borrows its existence from the Lifestream, to collect experiences and then - upon death - to return. Something Ror, as sage and as expert on this topic, was well aware of.
And so, as the first sword stabs pierced Mason, Ror stepped forth from the shadows behind Mason. Ror's dark cloak billowing and his eyes glowing a sinister blue from the magic he cast. A strange device like half a pair of glasses was on his face, and in his gloved hands a long metal chain. The chain swooped through the air and at its end was a crystal container. As Ror summoned magical energies, it started to spark. And in Mason's dying moment, Ror tore Mason's soul away from Mason's body and trapped it into the magical container.
The guards had stopped stabbing and now watched Ror finish the last of his druidic incantations. The magic made their neckhairs stand up. They were reluctant to act, allowing a large pool of blood to form around the corpse.
"Sir?" Asked the officer, and Ror raised his hand only to drop it back onto the leather armchair. After a moment, he let go of his nosebridge and eyed the report on the table. "So... Mason has been dealing with Vector..." The officer looked down at the report and then said, "Sir, there's more than that: allegations of corruption, power abuse, general negligence of duties..."
"I already knew Mason was incompetent," interjected Ror. "But that's something else than being a traitor." The officer fell silent, then curtly nodded. Ror waited, and let this sink in a bit. The officer forced to wait with him. After some time Ror made his decision and opened a desk drawer. Inside were two black leather gloves. He took them out and put the first of two on before the other. It was a tight fit. As he stood up, the officer said, "Sir?"
Ror ignored him for a moment as he took a black coat from the coatstand and wore it. Before exiting his office, he turned and said to the officer, "Tell Aneh she's been promoted to leadership. I'll deal with Mason." Ror's face was grim and serious. He closed the door behind him, leaving a saluting officer behind in his office.
The halls of the Tripower were silent as the lone figure of Mason skulked through them, until he eventually encountered clan guards. Ror watched from the shadows the display of bloody violence as Mason found his deserved end at the hands of the instructed guards.
On this world all life is connected to the Lifestream. In a way life itself borrows its existence from the Lifestream, to collect experiences and then - upon death - to return. Something Ror, as sage and as expert on this topic, was well aware of.
And so, as the first sword stabs pierced Mason, Ror stepped forth from the shadows behind Mason. Ror's dark cloak billowing and his eyes glowing a sinister blue from the magic he cast. A strange device like half a pair of glasses was on his face, and in his gloved hands a long metal chain. The chain swooped through the air and at its end was a crystal container. As Ror summoned magical energies, it started to spark. And in Mason's dying moment, Ror tore Mason's soul away from Mason's body and trapped it into the magical container.
The guards had stopped stabbing and now watched Ror finish the last of his druidic incantations. The magic made their neckhairs stand up. They were reluctant to act, allowing a large pool of blood to form around the corpse.
Finding Shadows
Eladrim left the room after holding Claire. It felt empty without the presence of the tribal leader, and Ruthivan stood by the bed still. Finally, he sat down, looking at the floor, his brow creased. "I'm sorry I had to bring him here. I know you don't like when I involve your family." She said nothing and he continued. "Claire, I knew you were going to try to run away, so I had the healer put up a ward. I know that if you get away from me, you're going to kill our child. I know you don't want me, or it, or any of us. It hurts me so deeply, but we are bonded. You know that if you ran away, it would only be a matter of time before your body would draw you back to me, just as mine would seek yours."
Ruthivan paused and then reached out, taking one of Claire's hands in his own. He placed it over his heart and looked at her earnestly. "I don't want to be angry with you, or upset, or... I just want to love you and you love me. I want us to help our race, and I want us to be accepted back into the tribe. If you keep running away, or wanting to, and keep refusing everything I try to do, we will never get that chance."
Finally she looked at him, but the look was distant and raw. "Didn't it ever occur to you that I didn't want to live in the tribe? All those times, didn't you understand that? Why else would I have run away?"
At that moment, Ruthivan knew the defeat was total. He bowed his head as though acknowledging the passing away of any hope he had for a Claire who loved him for himself. He let pass the hope that he would ever be welcomed back into the only home he'd known on this planet. He took her hand from his heart and lowered it. When he raised his head again, his expression was hard. "Then we won't ever go back. But you will not go anywhere else, Claire. You don't have to love me, you don't have to want your home, you don't have to desire anything, but you're not leaving me or our children. You can hate me and loathe me, but you will do your duty. I'll ensure it."
Ruthivan stood up, feeling a pain in his heart. He never wanted to turn into this - he hoped the nature in him would only have to be reserved for fighting others, never his wife. Never his Claire. He shoved the gentle desires away in favor for that of a man on a mission. He had a duty and his duty was to make this woman stay loyal, serve her people, and honor her bond.
"If you ever start to see how you could and should love me, then I may let up. Until you do-"
"Please... just drug me and let me sleep."
Ruthivan stared at her for a long moment, his jaw set. He finally looked down to the rug, crossed the room, and got out his vial and cloth.
Ruthivan paused and then reached out, taking one of Claire's hands in his own. He placed it over his heart and looked at her earnestly. "I don't want to be angry with you, or upset, or... I just want to love you and you love me. I want us to help our race, and I want us to be accepted back into the tribe. If you keep running away, or wanting to, and keep refusing everything I try to do, we will never get that chance."
Finally she looked at him, but the look was distant and raw. "Didn't it ever occur to you that I didn't want to live in the tribe? All those times, didn't you understand that? Why else would I have run away?"
At that moment, Ruthivan knew the defeat was total. He bowed his head as though acknowledging the passing away of any hope he had for a Claire who loved him for himself. He let pass the hope that he would ever be welcomed back into the only home he'd known on this planet. He took her hand from his heart and lowered it. When he raised his head again, his expression was hard. "Then we won't ever go back. But you will not go anywhere else, Claire. You don't have to love me, you don't have to want your home, you don't have to desire anything, but you're not leaving me or our children. You can hate me and loathe me, but you will do your duty. I'll ensure it."
Ruthivan stood up, feeling a pain in his heart. He never wanted to turn into this - he hoped the nature in him would only have to be reserved for fighting others, never his wife. Never his Claire. He shoved the gentle desires away in favor for that of a man on a mission. He had a duty and his duty was to make this woman stay loyal, serve her people, and honor her bond.
"If you ever start to see how you could and should love me, then I may let up. Until you do-"
"Please... just drug me and let me sleep."
Ruthivan stared at her for a long moment, his jaw set. He finally looked down to the rug, crossed the room, and got out his vial and cloth.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)