Flashback Skipping Stones

[Aoren]

34th Day of Autumn, 511 AV

Aoren stood quietly skipping stones across the surface of a pond not far from the walls of Syliras city. He gave the stones a little bit of a kick as they bounced off the surface of the water by following them with his air reimancy. He was in a melancholy mood and while that was not out of the ordinary for the typically withdrawn Drykas there was a hint of hopelessness to his usually more aloof demeanor.

He leaned down and picked up another rounded stone to skip across the waters of the pond. When he stood upright he was startled to see a young woman standing not far off. He jumped and dropped the stone. It rolled across the banks of the pond and settled near her feet. She smiled and picked it up then walked over to Aoren who was slightly on edge.

Her gait wasn’t threatening in any way. She wore only a simple homespun gown in earthen colors. With long brown hair, blue eyes and an open face she seemed exactly the opposite. The young woman held up her hands as if in surrender.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.” Aoren blinked and cleared his throat.

“It’s okay. I uh…just wasn’t expecting to see anyone here.” The young woman nodded and extended a hand bearing the stone he dropped.

“You dropped this.” Aoren opened the palm of his right hand to her. She deposited the smooth stone into his hand and he rubbed his fingers along its surface. Somehow it seemed smoother.

“Thank you.” He moved as if to throw the stone across the surface of the pond.

“Have you been making wishes?” He stopped mid-throw and looked at the young woman both puzzled and slightly annoyed. Aoren wasn’t in the mood for a conversation with a stranger.

“What?” He dropped his hand with the smooth stone still gripped between the tips of his fingers. The young woman looked at him with mild amusement dancing in her eyes.

“Wishes. You know, dreams yet to come true. Have you been making wishes with each stone you skip?” Aoren looked at her as if she had just sprouted a second head and was now a foaming at the mouth.

“Uh..no. I haven’t been making wishes.” He moved as if to skip the smooth stone again but paused when he realized that the young woman was watching him. He dropped his hand and glanced at her. “Can I help you?”

“Maybe you should try it.” She looked at him with sparkling eyes.

“Try what?” The young woman sighed lightheartedly and practically danced on the balls of her feet.

“Making a wish, of course!”

Aoren sighed and scratched the tip of his nose with his index finger. He rubbed the smooth stone between his fingers and shook his head.

“Don’t you have somewhere to be? Aren’t your brothers or…or someone going to come looking for you?” The young woman twirled slightly and cast her gaze to the heavens. The young Drykas was beginning to think that she was a tad bit daft but he wasn’t going to be that rude.

“Oh. They’re around. But! Back to the wishing!” Aoren ran a hand through his hair. He hadn’t shaved it in a few weeks so it had grown out. The mahogany brown tresses curled ever so slightly around his face.

“Why with the wishing? What even makes you think skipping stones over a pond can grant a wish anyways?” She smiled at him and shrugged.

“Why not? People do stranger things to grant wishes. Throwing coins in a fountain. Whispering to a shooting star. Breaking the breast bone of a chicken. Why not skip stones across a pond?”

Aoren blinked at her. Who was she? He shook his head and placed the smooth stone in his pocket. Turning on the heel of his boot he quietly began to walk away from the strange woman and her even stranger fantasy.

“Hey! Where are you going?” Aoren glanced over his shoulder and called out.

“Somewhere else.” She huffed and gave an exasperated sigh.

“Well you can’t just leave me out here! Not by myself.” Aoren stopped and turned to face her at an angle.

“And why not? You made it here yourself. Besides, you said your brothers or whoever are around.” She wrung her hands and chewed on her bottom lip.

“They are. Just…not “around” around.”

“And what does that mean?” She shrugged and Aoren pinched the bridge of his nose before dropping his hand.

“Right. Well. It was nice meeting you. I am going to…go…somewhere.” He kept his sentence vague and waved a hand dismissively before turning and continuing on his way. As he walked he heard footsteps behind him. Sighing heavily the young Drykas turned to face the woman ready to give her a piece of his mind. He stopped short though. When he turned around all he saw was the still water of the pond. The only sound was the wind rustling through the trees. Aoren looked around a little bit confused. He took a few steps back toward the pond and looked from right to left.

“Get yourself together, Aoren.” Shaking his head Aoren made his way back to Syliras city. He wasn’t very far from the main gates. It was going to be a long night but it was a night he was willing to endure.

Like so many others.

[Aoren]

35th Day of Autumn, 511 AV

Aoren panted heavily as he came to a stop from the long run he’d decided to undertake. He’d jogged all the way from his apartment in the bowels of Stormhold Citadel to the quiet pond just beyond the main gates of the castle he’d found a few days prior. He was channeling his emotions. His anger. His depression. His sense of hopelessness. Aoren caught his breath for a moment before he dropped down and started doing push-ups by the shoreline. His breathing stayed at an even albeit elevated pace. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest. When he’d churned out as many push-ups as his arms could bear he rolled over onto his back and started doing sit-ups. There was a hollow emptiness to the steely determination that pervaded the stoic routine he fell into.

“Faster.” He muttered to himself in the cold autumn air. Jumping up he ran over to a nearby tree and began aiming kicks at its trunk. He didn’t care that it stung his shins. The grief he was feeling inside made the sting pale in comparison.

“Faster.” He began to lash out at the trunk as if it were a hostile enemy. He jabbed at flimsy branches, side-swiped the base of the tree, and upper-cut loose leaves that fell from the impact of his blows. He punched at the tree until his knuckles started to bleed. Finally with a savage and broken cry he balled up his fist and slammed it directly into the dead center of the tree trunk. The tree shook only slightly. Aoren stood there. His chest heaved. Sweat rolled down his forehead and glistened along his bare arms. He sniffed slightly and wiped his brow with the back of his hand. The very hand that bore the mark of Avalis. He stared at that shimmering lily for a moment before balling up his fist again. He was certain that his knuckles were bruised but he didn’t care.

“What use is the gift of sight if all I can do is look backwards?” He threw his hands up in frustration then dropped to his knees dipping his hands into the pond. The frigid water made him hiss slightly but he ignored the discomfort and drank from the pond. He drank a little too fast and the water went down his throat the wrong way. He coughed and wiped his mouth with the back of his forearm before taking a deep breath. Rising to his feet he took a deep breath. His chest was still heaving and his heart was still pounding in his ears but he enjoyed the soreness in his chest, the ache in his bones and the sting in his muscles. The pain in his body made him forget the ache in his heart.

Aoren turned to leave. He jumped, startled by the appearance of the brown haired woman from the day prior.

“By the gods!” He stepped back slightly, instinctively falling into a defensive stance. When he regained his bearings he frowned and narrowed his eyes at her.

“Hasn’t anyone ever told you not to sneak up on people?” The young woman shrugged and bore a mischievous grin.

“Maybe I like your reaction?” He sighed and wiped his brow again. “Have you skipped any stones today?” Aoren furrowed his brow and touched a pocket on his trousers. Contained within it was the smooth stone she had given to him the other day.

“No. No I haven’t. “ She cocked her head to the side and gave him a puzzled look.

“Then what are you doing out here at the pond?” The way she referred to the pond made it sound as if it were a place of great importance. He didn’t press for any hidden meanings. If there were any he didn’t truly care. This was a place he’d found where he could find some semblance of peace.

“Trying to forget.” The moment the words were out of his mouth he regretted saying them aloud. She narrowed her eyes and perked up all at the same time.

“Forget what?” Aoren glared at her and turned away facing the pond. He could make out his reflection in its rippling surface. He was a solemn looking young man in his early twenties. Cobalt blue eyes stared back at him. They were older than the rest of him. His body was tall and muscular. Honed from a desire to never be at the mercy of tyrants and bullies ever again. His eyes however, they looked worn and tired. As if they had peered into a world far older and wider than the one they viewed around them. In many ways they had.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” He picked up a stone and skipped it across the surface of the pond. He added his skill in air reimancy to give the stone a little extra kick. The young woman nodded then paced around him. Aoren continued to skip stone in unison with his air reimancy.

“Well then let me guess .” The young Drykas shrugged.

“Be my guest.” She smirked and came to a halt in front of him. He sighed and stepped to the side then resumed his skipping of stones.

“You’re out here, covered in sweat. Probably from channeling all of your anger into physical activity. Am I right?” Aoren rolled his eyes and skipped another stone.

“Because that wasn’t obvious.” She chuckled and continued pacing as he pondered out his reasons for being at the pond.

“You beat up a tree trunk with single minded intensity. You’re trying to forget something.” Aoren chuckled and shook his head.

“Yes. We’ve established this. I applaud your skills of deduction.” He picked up another stone, this one a dark black that almost looked onyx. It felt heavy and the longer he held it the heavier it felt. He dropped it and it immediately felt as if a weight had been lifted from his chest. He took a deep breath and picked up another stone, carefully avoiding the onyx.

“No. I don’t think you’re trying to forget something.” She smirked and amended her previous statement. “No, I think you’re trying to forget –someone-. “ Aoren paused and cast a glance at her. His bright blue eyes searched her face. She was right.

“I see I’ve chipped away a piece of that armor you wear so diligently.” He huffed and sat down pulling off his boots. The chilly autumn air wrapped around his sore feet but he didn’t mind. It felt good after moving about for so long. He folded his legs beneath him and assumed a meditative pose.

“Yeah. So? I’m sure lots of people try to forget other people.” She shook her head.

“Not like you do. You’re desperate to forget this person. I can see it.” Aoren stirred at that. His shoulders slumped and a weak breath escaped his lungs. Yes. He wanted to forget this person. He wanted to forget them so badly it hurt. But then how would he learn? It was better that he remembered. Better that he learn from this mistake. Lost in his reverie he hadn’t noticed the fact that the young woman had taken a seat right beside him. He found that he didn’t mind. Despite being a little annoyed with her over-curious nature she was better company than silence and misery.

“Why are you so desperate to forget them, hmm?” She peered up at his face and he squared his jaw. He clenched his hands into fists and made a point not to look her in the face.

“You were in love, weren’t you?” Aoren’s head snapped in her direction and his nostrils flared. He stood up and folded his arms over his chest squeezing his eyes shut. After a moment he whirled on her.

“Why are you so persistent? What’s it to you, huh? Why do you care?” He glared at her, his stance defensive. His whole body seemed to be shaking like a coiled spring ready to explode with the force behind his pent up grief. There she sat by the shoreline, her dark brown hair caught in the gentle breeze as it caressed her face. She looked up at him with deep blue eyes that seemed endless in their compassion and understanding. Aoren was taken aback. He stepped back from her as if the weight of her gaze had struck a chord deep within him. When she spoke it was a gentle whisper. Barely louder than the autumn wind that blew through the clearing.

“Because someone has to.” Aoren stared at her in shock. A deep seated frustration boiled up inside of him. He clenched his teeth, balled his fists and squeezed his eyes shut until it felt like his chest was going to burst.

“What do you know about it!?” He cried out and then turned on his heels and ran. He couldn’t face it today. He couldn’t bear it right now. He ran. Aoren didn’t look back to see if she was following. He just kept running.

Running away.

As a boy Aoren had promised himself he would never again run away from anything.
Some promises were harder to keep than others.

[Aoren]

42nd Day of Autumn, 511 AV

Aoren sat within his apartment in the depths of Stormhold Citadel. It was a quiet day. Most of the denizens of the city were huddled with their families. He could smell the rain that was pouring down upon the surface. The dampness had seeped its way into the ground and now the deep parts of Syliras City smelled of wet things and decaying earth. A fire crackled in his small hearth. The warmth it provided did little to abate the ache in his bones. That chill was from a different source.

Aoren had before him the tools of his more secretive trade. Glyphing. He was by no means a master but he spent a great deal of his personal time forming different patterns and shaping different works with the spellcraft taught to him by his mentor. He was working on a series of glyphs meant to amplify his reimancy. Simple patterns that were not difficult to pen for someone learned in the art but difficult for a novice like himself. He had gone through a few sheets of parchment at this point.

For the longest time the only sounds within the enclosed space were the scratch of his quill pen on the scroll, the crackling of the fire in the hearth, and his sighs of frustration as he puzzled out how not to ruin hours of work. Finally when he was certain that he was about to make one crushing mistake with the flow of the glyph he set down his quill and ran his hands over his face.

“Ughhh!” He groaned in weary frustration and leaned back in his chair. As was his growing habit he reached into the pocket of his leather trousers and took out the smooth stone given to him by the woman at the pond. He rubbed its smooth surface and somehow it had a calming effect on his nerves.

The pond. He hadn’t returned there in days. Mostly out of fear that he would have to face the young woman. The clearing had become something of a haven for Aoren. He found that he could think more clearly there. His chest didn’t ache so badly. His eyes didn’t sting as if he were on the verge of tears. Rising from his place at his table he walked over to the trunk at the foot of his bed. Retrieving his cloak he wrapped it about his shoulders and drew up the hood. Holding up a hand he conjured his Res and called the flames within the hearth to it. Closing his fist he extinguished the fire and grimaced as it warmed up his hand to an uncomfortable temperature. Much like it always did. He shook his hand back and forth to lessen the discomfort then exited his home.

Syliras City was uncharacteristically quiet. Normally the hustle and bustle of thousands of people carrying out their daily lives in the massive structure was a dull roar in the background. Something one got used to over time. Today, however, it was quiet. People were still going about their business but a hush had fallen over the city. As he made his way to the surface, twisting and turning down the winding corridors of Syliras City, Aoren contemplated exactly what he would do once he reached the pond. Would he skip stones? Would he vent his frustration out on another tree? Would he simply stare into its reflective surface? Truth be told he had no idea but he needed to get out of the city and the pond was as good a place as any.

The patter of rain met his ears as he reached the surface. The dull grey hue that enshrouded the many structures above ground cast the whole castle in a dim light. The crisp touch of the autumn air made Aoren’s breath visible as a cloud of mist. He turned toward the main gate.

Aoren wasn’t truly paying much attention to his surroundings. He kept walking. His only companion was the slosh of water as he padded through puddles in the path. His mind was blank which. That was a rare state of consciousness for him. But as he rubbed the smooth stone between his thumb and index finger he found that it was easier to just think about nothing at all. When finally he felt the need to look up at his surroundings he was exactly where he needed to be.

The pond.

Autumn suited it well. The trees were a mix of gold, fiery orange, and bright red. Several leaves floated idly on the surface of the water. The thin line of sand that wrapped around it made him think that at one point in time this pond might have been open to a much larger body of water.

Aoren took off his cloak. He was beginning to feel warm. Reaching down he grabbed the hem of his linen shirt and pulled it over his head. He started to come out of his daze and noticed that his breathing was slightly elevated. It was a bit of a trek from the castle to the pond. He didn’t mind it though. Tendrils of steam rolled off of his exposed torso in contrast to the frigid air but that too did not bother the Drykan man. He folded his cloak and shirt together then set them on the thin grass at the edge of the sand. Kneeling down he pulled off his boots and set them aside.

Padding his way up to the edge of the water he took a deep breath then sat down. He buried his bare feet in the sand, digging in and letting it seep between his toes. The cool sensation helped to clear his head even further so he welcomed it. He folded his arms over his knees and simply stared out over the surface of the water. The smooth stone was still in his right hand. He continued to rub it between his thumb and index finger.

“Most people tend to put more clothes on as it gets colder.” Aoren looked up and was not surprised to see the brown haired young woman. He blinked at her. She seemed different today. It was nothing obvious. It was just that she didn’t seem the same.
“I’m not most people.” She quirked her head and gave him a small smile.

“No. You’re not.” Walking up to him she took a seat beside him and began tracing circles in the sand. She looked up at him and studied his expressionless face for several moments.
“What was her—“ Aoren interrupted her.

“His.” She cocked her head to the other side and blinked at him. There was no judgment in her visage. Somehow Aoren knew there wouldn’t be. She nodded and continued her question.

“What was his name?” She picked up a white stone and set it in the center of her newest circle and waited for Aoren to reply. The young man turned his gaze back to the surface of the water. The occasional ripple distorted the images reflected upon it but other than that it was as still as could be. His cobalt blue eyes grew distant as memories came back to him.

“Reed.” The name was spoken thick with emotion. Gentle and harsh at the same time. He turned his attention back to the young woman. “You’re not human are you?”
She paused in her drawing and looked up at him. A sad smile touched her lips as she shook her head. Aoren nodded. He had suspected as much.

“Who are you?” She took a deep breath. In that moment Aoren truly looked at her. She was beautiful but her beauty was simple. Neither stunning nor lackluster. Her long brown hair framed a kind face that held a warm smile. She looked at him then as if to confirm what Aoren knew deep within himself. She reached out and gently touched his chest directly over his heart.

“You know who.” He did know her. The young man merely nodded as she retracted her hand.

“Why have you come?” It wasn’t a harsh question. Rather it was a simple inquiry into her purpose for being precisely where she was and why she took an interest in him. She was silent for several moments before answering. Her hands continued to draw, erase, and redraw circles in the sand. At the center of each one was a white stone each time.

“You are not most people.” The response was simple but held within it a multitude of meanings. He smiled and nodded.

“I just wish I could have said good-bye. How do I even know if any of it was real?” Aoren’s shoulders dropped and he exhaled as if a weight were being lifted from them. The young woman picked up a white stone and tossed it. The rock skipped across the surface of the water perfectly.

“Yours was a largely forbidden love. Many would go so far as to say it was doomed from the start. That didn’t make it any less real.” He rubbed the smooth stone between his fingers and allowed the weight of that statement to sink into him.

“Did you love him?” Aoren continued to keep silent. He followed the trail of a leaf as it fell from the branch that had nourished it for so long. When it appeared as if he would not answer she repeated her question.

“Did you love him?” He turned his gaze to her.

“Yes.” She nodded. In that spoken confirmation Aoren felt as if a curtain fell away. Like the shadow of a veil being tossed aside to allow daylight to stream through the darkness. He breathed deeply feeling whole for the first time in months since he learned of the death of his lover at sea. Rising to his feet he tossed the stone that he had been holding on to into the air and caught it in the palm of his hand. When he looked back at the young woman she was gone.

“Not really gone…” He touched his chest over his heart. “Just around.” He tossed the stone into the air and caught it again.

“How about that wish?” He brought his arm back, angled his wrist, and let loose. As was his fashion he followed the stone with a bit of air reimancy to give it some extra kick. The dark surface of the stone rippled and it skipped all the way to the other side of the pond and into the trees. He smiled and brought his arms up over his head stretching. Turning around he tugged on his boots, pulled on his shirt and draped his cloak over his shoulders again. Just as he was about to head off toward Syliras he felt a stinging pain in the back of his head. Whirling around he reached up and rubbed at the spot. He looked around to see what might have caused that pain when the sound of rolling rocks caught his attention.
Looking down there was a single white stone at his feet. He knelt, still rubbing at the back of his head, and picked it up. The surface was smooth just like the dark stone he had tossed away moments ago. The difference was that this stone felt light whereas the other had felt heavy. He smiled and rubbed it between his thumb and index finger.

“Skipping stones and wishes made on water. Who would have guessed?” He shook his head and deposited the stone in his pocket.

His wish might not come true, but that wasn’t the point. Aoren took another deep breath and set out toward Syliras. Tomorrow was another day. He wasn’t done grieving. He knew that but now he could move on. Even if he never did find another man to love him the way Reed had. The important thing was that someday he would be able to love again.

Even if it wasn’t today.

[Emblem]

Congratulations! You Get Glorious Experience! Aoren Skills Running- 2 XP Body Building- 2 XP Interrogation- 2 XP Unarmed Combat- 1 XP Reimancy- 1 XP Glyphing-1 XP Lores Always Looking Back Seeking to Forget Wishes and Stones Facing Feelings Other Shenanigans: Nope. Comments : Great work on this thread, it was great! Just one thing, it is Syliras not Syliras City. Besides that good work! Hopefully everything makes sense and if not, PM me!