Post by Levedara on Apr 24, 2010 8:52:32 GMT -5
"Will you take me there?"
That simple question troubled Vorel greatly, yet as she looked up to Gerard as he stood beside her she knew there was no denying him. Her delicate hands pushed against the cobblestones and she rose from the street of Arabel, casting one last look at the shallow water surrounding the large statue standing as a silent testament to the past. Her flawless features hid her dismay, alabaster skin so fine it could not betray the telltale signs of paling.
"You wish to go to the place that once was and now isn't? I will take you there with my words"
As he confirmed his will she pushed away her internal protest. In the past it had always been a rule strictly adhered to. None should ever be brought to the place that was home. Much like no true names should ever be given, and even better, forgotten in reference. Yet home was now a place that was no more for it had been destroyed in the burning. And he was her prince. He would never bring harm. That thought pushed her past the uncertainty and she smiled realizing that if there was anyone she would ever show the beauty of the glade that was once her home it would be him. Her hands lifted to him as she spoke the words, sending him to a place far.
Magic breaks the peace of a glade beyond the reach of most men.
A small family of deer bound away from the grassy rubble into the woods, the golden glow of the evening sunlight making their coats a liquid rich brown, the smallest ones dappled with white speckles. The small glade sports a winding creek, passing through the trees beyond the once home, and wrapping past. It flow is narrow between the trees but widens behind the ruins, forming a large wide pool of slow moving water. It's banks are dotted with large white stones. It narrows again to wind it's way through thinning trees to a wide open meadow of long lush grasses. Wildflowers dot the terrain in bright yellows and whites and in the air above the meadow many little fairies dance about with a host of large orange and black winged butterflies.
The man at the center of the magical current solidifies to see the deer scamper away from his intrusion. His eyes ever watching shift across the silent glade, and come to rest on the woman that appears next to him in a similar torrent of magic.
// ~ the following is a transcript with minor editing for clarification
Gerard looks to her, the waning sunlight causing his hair to glow a celestial honey color, and his eyes to flicker with a deep, resonant blue. His chiseled, mixed Chondathan and Northern features outline his rigidity despite the care and love in his eyes. "
It is beautiful, Vorel," he speaks, reaching out for her hand.
"It is." Vorel smiles, taking his hand gingerly, before looking down to her beltpouch and opening the flap. She frees Vaeri who flits up into the air with a dazzling spin.
"Go dance with them butterfly" she says and the little pixie spins lightly again, offering a genuine smile to them both, her typical sarcastic nature done away with, as she flits off in lazy twirls towards the meadow
As the last murmurs of the magic fade away the sounds of the forest resume, chirping and chiming of insects, the rustling of small animals. Small twigs and pine needles crunch under heavy boot and rustle under soft shoe as the pair stand hand in hand in a glade. It could be thought of as completely untouched by man if not for the overgrown ruin the forest strives to hide in regrowth.
Gerard scans the scenery, absorbing in all the fine details, the smell of the wilderness, the sound of the birds, and perhaps most importantly to him, the feel of her hand in his. Shifting his gaze, he examines the overgrown stones, scuffing some of the growth aside with his heavy boot.
"This was your home, Vorel?" He asks, kneeling while still holding her hand to examine the stones further.
"Yes, this is the place that once was." Her voice is gentle in the evening air.
"It is serene..." He squints his eyes as he looks towards the sunlight. "One could scarcely tell something so terrible occurred here."
Vorel lifts her hand to gesture at one of the larger mounds that manages to reach about five feet in height before tapering off in an uneven collapse.
"Where the hearth once was." She slides her hand from his and steps forward past the broken remains of the wall and carefully picks her way across the uneven ground to stand before the ruins of the hearth. "Here where I am now was the table where we did the sitting"
He stands up once more, and looks over to the ruined hearth, following her gestures and speech cues. Vorel points towards the indistinct corner not far from where she stands, a loose mound covered in tiny flowers, faded fungus covered wood shards poking through.
"There were the stairs that went to the room that was ours." She wanders across towards the other side of the small dwelling, stepping between a gap in the only apparent partition in the foundations. "Here was the room that was of they who gave to us the living." Her hand gingerly touches the stony remnants of the wall to brush at the clinging moss. "The forest that is quiet will take it back with the time it has." She turns her blue eyes to Gerard, her gaze baring a sadness unmistakable as she takes her hand away from the wall to hold her staff as she leans on it for support.
He approaches, and places his arm under hers and across her back supportively, continuing his examination of the ruin. "It must have been a happy home, one full of love."
"Yes. It is not like the places that are big with many things that still feel empty somehow with the people that come and go." Her voice is a quiet half whisper as she leans against him.
"I did not have such love in my upbringing," he speaks, smiling. "The walls and cots of a barracks are not a comforting place for a boy to grow. I envy you, Vorel."
"Yes, until the burning was brought to us the living that we did was very good. There was always warmth and laughter here in this place that we are" She tilts her head to rest against his shoulder as she shuts her eyes to look into memory.
A soft fluttering begins to fill the air, the buzz of little wings beating quickly to keep tiny bodies in a constant dance as the fey from the meadow approach, spreading out in a wide circle around the ruin to spin and play through the air. Gerard observes their dance, and squeezes Vorel against him lovingly.
"Tell me, Vorel, how did Vaeri come to you?"
She looks up, smiling as she sees the pixies spinning about and holds out her hand. Her expression softening to a gentle care as the little fey, crooning a soft song as they dance about, take turns alighting on her outstretched fingers before darting about in their weaving aerial display.
"When we are taught the words we become bonded to one that will be as we until we become nothing. All they that are as I in this place that we are had a companion dancer. So it has always been for the people that are my own. Butterfly did come to me when I learned the words. He who has raised me to know the words that are many gave to me the stones and sent me into the meadow to find them. I became frustrated when I could not find that which I sought. I did not understand what I was to find. Butterfly came, she danced across my stones in the grass and showed me the words that I could not see before." Finally one of the many pixies settles in Vorels hand, remaining there while the others flitter and play. Their crooning song fades as one by one they dart and drift away, scattering between the trees and low lying bushes, to leave Vaerie the only fey present in the quiet glade. The smiling pixie sits cross legged in Vorels delicate hand. "Butterfly knew that which I needed, and I knew that I loved my little dancer."
Gerard looks to Vaeri, and smiles to her. "Greetings, Vaeri."
The small fey smiles, then looks at Gerard with a mischievous smirk, launching from Vorels hand to flit right up to his face. Her little fingers reaching out to tap his nose her wings a flutter as she hovers near. "You behave yourself watchman, for while you may watch, I know!"
A chiming laughter erupts from Vorel as the pixie darts skyward, fluttering through the sky in a dizzying spiral before vanishing from view. "We are bonded here watchman." Vorels hand lifts to touch her own temple as she smiles at Gerard. "As well as here." She lowers her hand to rest over her heart.
He nods, in understanding. "Your connection runs very deep... Deeper, perhaps, than I will ever know. I can only compare it to my connection with The Vigilant One. So Vaeri is the one who taught you your first spells, Vorel?" He asks with a raised brow.
"She helped me find my way with the stones. She showed me that which I could not see. Papa gave to us the stones for us to find the words, but we must learn to find them on our own. Butterfly showed me that the stones could tell stories so that I could find in them the words I looked for"
"How do you hear what the stones say? What do they speak to you?"
"Every stone has a story watchman, they are made of the essence of that which they are. Each can hold the words that are fundamental to the being of that tale, and with those fundamental words the mystery may be made into being with the will that moves them. It is knowing the stories that can be hard. You must see the stone and hear it's story. They will inspire you if you can find that which they hold" She smiles, then steps away.
Her feet carefully pick their way through the fern and moss covered ground to carry her past the fallen wall and towards the deep wide pool beyond. Gerard follows after her, his heavy boots scuffing on rocks and crunching foliage under-heel. His blue eyes, rather than moving about the scenery, focus on her. Vorel kicks off her soft leather shoes and walks across the wide stones that frame the creek side. Small feet tentatively touch the water as she lifts the hem of her dress and walks onto the rocky shelf that juts out into the clear water. Her steps carry her to the edge, up to her ankles in water, to stand beside the drop off into the surprisingly deep pool. She turns slightly to look back at him, her eyes bright and smile warm.
"We did the swimming here, and the the playing, mama would sit there with papa beside her. He would sing while she would sew." Her hand lifts to point along the shore, several large stones with flattened, smoothed tops coated in a thick moss rising above the rest that line the shore.
Gerard kicks his boots off, and puts his feet in the water beside her, the hem of his trousers not quite reaching the water line. He swishes his foot across the surface, causing a deep ripple, and looks to her.
"Your mother and father sound like they were wonderful people, Vorel. I am certain they have found peace in the next life. Tell me of your siblings, and your relationships with them."
Her gaze travels across his features before looking down to the water, watching his ripples lap against her ankles with a faint smile. "My sisters were the same though they were different. You could not tell them from one another until they spoke. Many times they would stay silent to make us guess and laugh when we were wrong. They had hair that was like honey and eyes that were deep. They had the words that were gentle. They were Caesin and Edar, of the forest and the earth, and they would run through the woods carefree on feet that were swift." She looks across the pool, gazing into its crystal depths. "They would spend most of their time together, they would make things in the forest and play with their dancers. They were great friends with they of the woods that are long in their living and would tell me stories of the trees and of the little things that live in the caves that are hidden. They would play here in the river with me."
He nods, absorbing all of this. Moving back he sits on the edge of the pool, propping his elbow on his knee, and observing her as she plays in the water, his chin upon his hand. "And what of your brother?"
She begins murmuring softly focusing on the water as she moves her foot in a quick flicking motion. She sends a spray of water droplets in the air. Her words become firmer and several of the droplets halt creating a shimmering wall of round droplets hovering in the air. A delicate hand reaches out and she places a finger under one of the glimmering orbs. As suddenly as they stopped the water resumes motion and with the exception of the one that splatters against her fingertip it tumbles down into the pool below.
She finally speaks. "He was a hunter. He was steady in all that he did. His words were strong and he was friends with many from places that are not here. He could bring them from the water and from the air, from the woods and from the earth. Many times he would bring them to play with us, or help with the things that we had need of doing. Often he would go into the woods for days that were long and return with meat from his hunting for us to have in the eating. Sometimes he would return with nothing but we would never mind. Mama would make for us meals from her garden that plentiful." Her quiet voice drifts across the water as she stands quietly and stares into the deep pool.
His voice breaks through her distant thoughts "It sounds as if it was the perfect existence, Vorel."
"Yes watchman. Until they came with the burning." She moves to him, a gentle sway to her movements as she steps through the shallow water that covers the rock shelf leading to the shore where he sits. Standing infront of him she reaches down to lightly touch his cheek. "But yours was not so?"
"My life before Cormyr was not one of comfort or luxury," he begins, looking into her eyes, his right hand extending to her left thigh, holding it above the knee. "My father died before I could ever know him, and my mother died shortly thereafter. I do not remember her, though I sometimes remember her face. She was a kind woman, I am told, and her love for my father is what drove her to such sorrow when he passed.
Her face takes on a look of sorrow, as she listens, her hand drifting away from his cheek as she moves to sit beside him, her hand seeking to nestle itself within the grasp of his.
"Captain Veden Taixbel allowed me to live within the barracks. He knew my mother, and took it upon himself to ensure my well-being in her memory. I remember him being kind to me on my first days with the guards in the barracks. It was a cold, and hard place to live, with few comforts. My days were spent tending chores: cleaning the barracks, assisting the soldiers in maintaining their equipment, and other such tasks."
He closes his hand on hers, and continues. "I remember, when I was twelve, Veden began grooming me for service on the walls. He trained me to wield the halberd, the cudgel, and the arming sword, as well as how to utilize armor to its greatest effect. When he had taught me all he could, he placed me in my first position upon the wall, alongside Isaugh.
Isaugh was a Northman, with a heart as big as the blade he wielded, and as strong as a bear. We spent many nights simply speaking of the places outside the gates, over the lush hills of the Heartlands, to Isaugh's home in the North, just out of the Marsh of Chelimbyr. He told me of shining Waterdeep, pristine Silverymoon, and of the dangers of the forests, swamps, and caverns. The way he spoke of them, they filled my head with dreams of adventure."
Her eyes study his hand as she speaks, a soft smile on her lips as she listens.
"After a time, another my age joined the guard, a guttersnipe by the name of Konrad. He was slovenly, amoral, a scoundrel in every way. We did not get along, and we often clashed. It was not long before I surpassed Isaugh and Konrad in station amongst the guard - while they each maintained lives outside of their duties, I had nothing but, and so I advanced very quickly. I trained endlessly, and devoted every waking moment to my position.
"When I was sixteen, Veden came to me upon the walls, and gave me his ring." Gerard looks down to the simple silver band on his finger. "He told me he was dying, of an illness no one could cure, and that he loved me as his son, even though I was not. He passed shortly thereafter, and I was promoted to Captain of the Talaski guard."
"Two years later, a force of trolls and goblins and orcs came to Talaski, seeking to destroy her. They were turned away, but their assault changed something in me. I was no longer content with the walls of Talaski. Deep within me, I felt a draw to something beyond the world I had known, a voice that spoke to my soul, rather than my ears. It drove me, though I didn't know where."
Her free hand moves across to his ringed hand, tentatively touching the silver band before looking up to him. She studies his features silently and lifts her hand to push back a lock of his hair gently.
"When I left Talaski, I travelled for several months, encountered many things I hadn't before - strange people, strange sights."
Vorel interjects briefly in a soft agreeing tone. "I know this feeling you were having" She nods lightly, saying nothing more to interrupt.
"I followed the voice across plains and swamps, rivers and mountains, and eventually found myself at the massive portcullis of the Order's monastery. One of the Watchers took an interest in me - he had heard of the Calling, but few he had known had received it, let alone followed it so diligently."
She interjects curiously, "You became the watchman then in this place that you went?"
He nods, and his hand seeks hers out, clasping it firmly, but gently. "I had the necessary skills to become a member of the Order from my training in Talaski. The Watchers of the Order taught me to use the hand-and-a-half sword, and taught me the necessary tenants and laws I would need to obey by. I was being groomed for service as a cleric. I was one of the older monks in the Monastery, but I was better off due to my prior training. My adherence to order and instruction, instilled in me from my childhood, brought me into great regard amongst the priests, much to my fellow monks' displeasure."
"While they were toiling away cleaning latrines and scrubbing platemail, I was accompanying the Watchers on their voyages hither and thither across Amn. It was on one such voyage that my Gift presented itself," as punctuation, he raises his right hand. It begins to glow blue-white, and then the glow dissipates.
"Senior Watcher Stontmehn and I were returning from Arn Keep, a hundred miles East of Athkatla, when we were waylaid by bandits. They were poorly trained, and were routed easily by the Watcher and I. I had struck one down, mortally wounded, and he lie upon the road, begging for assistance.
"Medical supplies were unavailable, and the Watcher Stontmehn had expended his energies mending our wounds. It seemed the man would die. I offered him succor, doing my best to comfort him in his final moments, when suddenly I felt a chill rush beginning in my toes, and coursing up my legs, eventually reaching my fingertips. Miraculously, the man was healed. Watcher Stontmehn declared at that moment that I was no longer to be groomed for priesthood - I was a Paladin."
"You gave your touch to one who had brought harm to you and the one that you followed?" Vorels flawless brow catches a faint crease as her expression scrunches with dismay.
"Yes... It was that act of selfless kindness and forgiveness that proved me deserving of the Gift. The bandit was given a fair trial, and he served his sentence. He is now working towards an honest living."
Her finely arched brows bunch, the furrow splitting her flawless alabaster forehead. "They that came to do the burning, if they asked me for help I would tell them to die. You are morekinder than I am Watchman."
He smiles. "It is not expected of every person to be merciful."
Evening slowly gives way to night as his story continues, the pair slowly surrounding them with a growing darkness. The sounds of day die as the hoots and howls of the after hours take their place.
"With Watcher Stontmehn's assistance, I was thrust into the Cowled Wizard's Mageslayer training. Through months of magical punishment, I was hardened against its effects. Magical flame, mental affliction, force, cold, and all other forms of magic. It was a torturous regiment we were put through, though it does not hold a candle to the evils they performed on 'Deviants' in Spellhold."
Her hand tugs away from his as her expression tightens, eyes taking on a wounded look as she regards him silently. He lets her hand go without protest as he continues his tale.
"It was not a duty I enjoyed or wished to perform. The Cowls deemed any who cast spells without a license to be a deviant. At ten thousand coins for a license, it was impossible for any born with magic in their blood to afford it. The Cowls had us arrest children, rip them from their mothers' arms and turn them over to the inquisitors at Spellhold. They performed terrible acts to them, and the stories of Spellhold haunt me to this day."
She clasps her hands together in her lap as she looks out across the pond, her eyes troubled.
"I ran." He kicks at the water, hanging his head at that. "I couldn't get their faces out of my head, the sounds of their mothers' cries, their tears stained my hands and their pain tarnished my heart. I heard of the Sentinel Rock in Cormyr, gathered my things, and left."
"I ran also watchman. Even as they were burning. I am glad that you came to the place that I was." She shifts her gaze, watery, back to him and offers him a small smile under a tired gaze. Murmuring softly she holds the silver amulet that hangs from her neck, light glowing between her fingers, then spreads to push back the darkness of the fallen night as she lowers her hand away.
"I know now that it was all part of my Calling, Vorel. I was placed into service with the Cowled Wizards so that I would grow discontent and seek out the Sentinel Rock, and I crossed paths with you through His design for me." He reaches out to her hand, and squeezes it with urgency.
Looking to his hand for a moment she looks back to him, then stands, tugging his hand as she begins to step away. "The night has come watchman, the stars will be in the sky that is above and we may see them all from the meadow that is wide. Let us go and see until we find the sleeping?"
At her tugging, he rises, slipping his feet out of the water. He plucks his boots up with the opposite hand, and responds "I would like nothing more than that, Vorel." He smiles happily, pursuing her.
She leaves her shoes on the shore, leading a winding path to the meadow where she throws down his old cloak and settles, tugging him down beside her before laying back to gaze up into the sky
He lies on his side, and places his arm around her, snuggling up against her, breathing rhythmically, until he eventually falls asleep against her chest. Her eyes scan the heavens as she listens to him breathe as she creates stories out of the scattered stars above in the back of her mind until she too falls asleep under the watchful gaze of Vaeri and her quietly dancing sisters.
