Flashback To Know is Bliss/My Savior Comes: pt IV

[Delani Denusk]

The woman was disarmed when Loktupar literally swept her off her feet, jade eyes fixed on the man as wounded hand lay over her belly an unhindered hooked over his shoulder. These were not gestures the dame was familiar (or otherwise comfortable) with, but what could she argue with on it? They had saved her life; in return, she could allow his generosity. It would not harm anything, surely.

Once near the tent, Delani shrugged him off and set her feet down once he'd bent to let her, slipping inside the tent a moment after to sit cross-legged before the indentation. It was a familiar setup for the Drykas who lived all her life in a tent; fire bowls were hardly alien. And when Loktupar returned with fire necessities and food, she could hardly suppress her laughter.

"Yes, I have been comfortable. Kyanapa has proven very interesting, even if our communication means differs. I find her ability with herbs and other medicinal plants fascinating; but she has not understood me well enough to communicate what the plants I ask about do." The woman then gestured to the bowl, speaking again. "I also see that you are a man of simple preparations; I have seen no wife share your tent so I am to assume you are unwed or surely they would prepare your meals. Caravans like this function in similar ways that the clans do, if I recall my understanding of traders."

Though tired, and the rain now beginning to fall upon the tent created a curious music to consider, the Drykas felt no desire to sleep yet. Just sitting and listening, watching, was restful. Like much of what she'd learned in life, the woman did not need notes to remember, she simple recorded what was seen to memory, absorbing the lesson like the earth absorbed water. She made notes of the stew he readied while they talked and the sound of a guitar through the rain from one of the other wagons or tents. "Can you sing, Loktupar?" She asked suddenly, tilting her head a little. "Or play? I hope you do not mind my questioning; you are so very different from the people I've seen and met in times passed. I would enjoy knowing more of where you came from, who your people are."

x

[Praetorian]

Loktupar had to suppress a grin at Delani's words, the mention of a wife automatically bringing him back to many a nagged conversation with his mother. "I have no wife," he confirmed quietly, oddly interested in the Drykas woman's reaction. In a moment of silence, he began to bowl out the odd stew, handing Delani her generous portion first. As the gentle, soothing notes plucked across a string filtered into their tent, mixing with the rain to form a melody all their own, Loktupar sighed. This was the sound of his caravan, his people. They found peace, safety, and comfort in the presence of one another. "Can you sing, Loktupar? Or play? I hope you do not mind my questioning; you are so very different from the people I've seen and met in times passed. I would enjoy knowing more of where you came from, who your people are." Without ever realizing that they had slid shut, Loktupar opened his ebony eyes and smiled at the woman. "Talent in an instrument is something often used to attract a mate. I've not had the time to pursue such a venture. But Elbemopar, one of the young men you met today, he has an eye on Yria, the half-Drykas you met today. They will eventually fall in love one day after Elbe saves her newest project from the jaws of a goat." He laughed, shaking his head. "But right now, Yria does not even notice h-" Whatever he was about to say was cut off in a strangled sort of yowl as he pressed a hand to his heart and his temple. While speaking, he had automatically started to immerse himself in the lines of chavi, to follow the paths of those so dear to him. But once again, he saw it. The end. Death. Blood. Fire. Pain. So much pain... And then his own darkness. The sight of it, the feeling of it as his body habitually followed his line as it interacted with others only to be cut off so painfully... They were like an Isurian's fist closing tight around his heart, around his very being. Yria would never know how Elbe felt for her... Vu'kernin would never find out about his daughter... So much will be lost... So much. And there was not much time left. The exact amount Loktupar knew not... only that it was fast approaching. The Chaktawe realized with a shiver that he must be going mad. He must. Mortals, they were not supposed to see fate in this way. And yet Blessed Avalis had seen it fit to mark him, to cast this fate upon him. There must be a reason, somehow... some way... He just had to trust in her guidance, in her judgement. Finally, he exhaled a long pent up breath and shook his head. "Is habit from watching camels..." He explained quietly, forcing himself to smile. "When bug bothered them, they shook their head. When thoughts bother me, I shake them out of my head." And in that moment, it worked. But eventually all ugly things must be faced.

[Delani Denusk]

Delani laughed aloud as the man relayed his thoughts on instruments. To woo a 'mate', that was a curious way of looking at the union of a man and woman. Like the coupling of horses during summer or the dogs when their season came. They bayed and they neighed and the combatted. She could almost imagine the Chaktawe wooing a woman through the trill of a flute or the mellow plucking of strings. The idea of a goat eating anothers wares to draw their attention, however, only added to the hilarity.

"We play for pleasure, the few that I knew. Music was more of a past time than it was a means to, ahem, draw a mate. Many marriages in the Drykas were formed via prospective alliances. If new bonds needed to form, the Ankal saw the eligible woman off to a respective man. It was not usually about love."

She paused to think for a moment, "My uncle came close to marrying me off, once. But he refrained. I am glad he did for I would not have met Ahanu then. He was...a very dear friend before the storm. I am certain my cousin suspected I would marry him if his father did not arrange it before then." The dame shrugged off hand about it only to tense when he suddenly grasped at his breast, a hand clutched over his heart. Delani dropped the bowl of stew in response, hot food spilling over the bed rolls as she reached for him with her usable hand.

There was little she could do though as Delani looked into his haunted eyes. What saw he beyond this veil of life? What thread did he follow? The worry was still emblazoned on her face as the man slowly came back to the present and shook his head in dismissal. It troubled the Drykas deeply; was this foreboding he had so briefly spoke of truly so horrible to cause the man physical pain? He tried to dismiss it, but Delani wouldn't bite. "And yet, the fly remains a-linger the horse, or as you put it, the camel. Unless you kill it, the fly will always remain to torment and fret them." She squeezed his shoulder in reassurement then leaned back, reaching with the same hand to gingerly rub over the bandages while the rain and wind blew and thunder drowned the Sea in Zulrav's might.

The woman would withhold further counsel for the remainder of the night as portions were re-served. She would eat in silence, contemplating her situation further. What new path had she come across that doom lay in their future so clearly that their leader suffered physically? It worried the woman deeply...

As afternoon faded and Syna set on the horizon, the storm began to ebb, lightning flashing in the dimness and thunder now only a low grumbling as the rain slowly ebbed and at last ceased. Delani excused herself at this point to seek Kyanapa's carriage for her bandages to be changed, speaking comfortably with the Elder and even talking with her about some of the plants she'd come across since the storm that had helped her. In return, the dame showed her a journal that was kept. In it were many sketches of plants and notes on what they did; none of these plants were familiar to the Drykas though and when she tried to figure out from Kyanapa where they were from, the Elder only shook her head in confusion to the question. The Drykas attributed this to the language barrier between the two. It would be something she sought to overcome, with time.

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Several days more would pass, Delani continuing her recovery until one day she spied Loktupar in his tent alone. He was sitting quietly upon the floor, his breathing deep and even and his eyes closed. He did not appear asleep but he was clearly unaware of the present (or so it appeared to the woman). Her recovery was fairing well and Kyanapa had let her go without the sling this time, though Delani continued to cradle her arm against her midriff. The flesh was well on its way towards full recovery and she was certain by season's end it would be completely healed. But that did not dwell long on her thoughts as she stared through the tent flap at the dark-eyed figure, her fingers holding it aside so she could peer at him. There had been moments when he'd behaved in such a way but it had not occurred to Delani that this was simply the Seer meditating.

Quietly, she spoke up, "Loktupar, what is it that you do when you sit so quiet, so still? With all that you must see to, how can you afford the time? Is your mind not burdened by the needs of your group?" Her words were soft in volume, not wishing to disturb him if he were truly asleep.

x

[Praetorian]

"Loktupar, what is it that you do when you sit so quiet, so still? With all that you must see to, how can you afford the time? Is your mind not burdened by the needs of your group?" For a brief instant, annoyance flashed over the Chaktawe's features. To be accused of putting off the needs of his caravan to sit was... Well, he could not expect her to understand his ways all of the time. At least not without some sort of explanation. "I do not simply sit," he said quietly, opening his eyes to look up at the woman. "I meditate." His mind buzzed with the words of his father when he had taught him to do this, when the chavi was too strong and he could not find himself. "Meditation is a means of centering the body and mind so that you can better understand your pain, your thoughts, and how they relate to what is around you. Yes, my caravan's needs weigh heavily upon my mind. But, through meditation, I am able to keep my mind clear of that frantic fear that comes with having so many lives relying upon you, I am able to calmly approach a problem from many directions." He smiled lightly, knowing that the power of meditation was not something that could merely be spoken of. Leaning forward, he patted the bedroll before him, signalling Delani to in front of him, facing him. First, she would have to get the posture right. "Legs crossed... back straight... Arms resting gently upon your legs. You have to let the energy flow through your body. As if flows, you will be able to feel how your injury affects you and the true depth of it." Then came breath control. "Focus on your breathing... the gentle in and out as your chest rises and falls... as the air fills your lungs, the blood pumps through your veins..." His voice took on a slow, hypnotic quality. Once he saw that she was behaving properly, he would begin walking her through exactly how meditation should affect your thoughts and, from there, your life.

[Delani Denusk]

Meditation.

It became obvious almost immediately that his stillness was far more than apparent negligence or laziness; it was a means of focus, something Delani sorely lacked often. While it did not make her reckless, the woman had long struggled to keep the endless stream of questions that so often filled her mind from flooding out. Her instinctive curiosity often came off as overbearing to those who did not know her.

Delani wondered why she had never managed to train in this before; it could have been very useful, could have even saved lives. But the past was the past and now, Loktupar was offering. She would not refuse the aid.

The woman moved to the indicated spot, listening carefully to his instructions and adjusting her posture in quick procession. Back straight, legs crossed, she laid her hands in her lap (mindful of the bandaged ones placement) and closed her eyes in order to block out the visual input. And even doing so, it was insanely difficult to concentrate. The sounds of the encampment outside filtered through anyways, particularly the sound of wood being hammered somewhere. The world outside his tent was filled with knowledge infinite, knowledge she could have if she abandoned this silly thing he offered and continued browsing the wares of intelligence.

Delani forced her mind back into the tent and back onto the voice of the Chaktawe. He was speaking of breathing and the deep rhythm of concentration. She was just beginning to do that when her mind filled with the possibility of using this to hone use of the Lykata. If she could use meditation to hone her concentration, sorting the chaotic glimpses that were revealed would be much, much easier.

The woman exhaled through her nose and pursed her lips in frustration, returning to the moment well after he had fallen silent. He was breathing deep and even across from her. She thought back to the mention of energy, but this only served to confuse her and made the drykas stop the techniques completely. Her good hand rose and combed through her hair in impatience. Things came so naturally to her normally, but this contradicted all of her nature. As she opened her eyes, however, Delani saw that Loktupar still sat quietly concentrating, using the physical representation as opposed to the vocal one.

She stopped to stare, observing the way his head was steady and his chest moved rhythmically. He was so calm and in control, so focused eventhough he simply sat there, apparently doing nothing. No, not nothing: meditating. Delani tried again.

This time, she left her eyes open and shifted her hands to rest flat on her thighs while trying to match his breathing. She sought a focal point, the same as she had begun doing with the Lykata when using it, and fixed upon his eyes. They were solid inkwells, curious and beautiful and mysterious. Her mind tried to fill with questions on why they were so dark and seemingly pupiless but her concentration on his eyes and simply how they looked and not the why of it helped keep them at bay. Instead, She found that as her mind finally began to empty, the pain in her hand became more apparent.

Except that it was not exactly pain. It was more. She was aware of the itchiness beneath the bandages. The pain came from nerves in the back of her hand and wrist as they stretched towards oversensitive fingers. The nerves were connected likewise to the bones and ligaments beneath, causing further pain that throbbed with each flush of fresh blood through her system. She found herself following the blood flow now and the way it seemed to work like waves on a shore, be it a lake, a river, or the ocean. The flow of blood was synchronized to the thu-thump of her heart in her chest which further seemed to be coordinated by the inhale-exhale of her lungs. Each inhale brought her lungs to full, each exhale to empty. It was strangely tranquil in all its simplicity.

And in that time as she began to drift through her body that she realized it was less her body she was aware of so much as it was the ebb and flow of energy he had spoken of, like the orb of djed that filled all souls in the world, some having access to it, some not. It was like that magical entity, and yet not. It was more closely tied to the physical and mental than it was the spiritual.

Now, Delani was a highly observant and intelligent woman, but her eclectic thoughts often prohibited her ability to linger long on subjects. While her promise as a probable wise-woman remained high, her downfall would lie in her inability to concentrate. But she understood the use of this simple little technique now; she understood that if it could be mastered, her thoughts would find it difficult to wander beyond what she observed immediately. She'd be able to sort the questions and obtain the answers. This was a skill of immense value, and something, she found, that took her mind fully from her recovering hand.

Refocusing her eyes, Delani locked them with the Chaktawe's and smiled.

x

[Praetorian]

Loktupar watched with a smile brought on from years of struggling with the same thing. Delani's eyes searched aimlessly beneath her lids for the sounds caught by her ears. Eventually, she stilled just enough for Loktupar to relax. Not everyone took to meditation... but those that did tended to be calmer and more focused individuals. That was something that the Chaktawe felt she needed: inner peace. "Good... Now as you do that, focus on the sound of my voice..." He waited until she was still and quiet once more before speaking. "Instead of fighting the sounds around you, let them fill you. Find the rhythm and the pattern in everything and let it lull you. That wood being hammered? It is a drum... driving this song. You hear the sound of Yria's loom... How it hums and purrs under her hands... The tinkling of chimes a few tents down, dancing in the faintest breeze... Within each there is order, for this world is order if you are willing to look deeply enough." He trailed off, letting Delani's own thoughts take over, resting his elbows on his knees as he leaned to watch her intently, black eyes hooded. Uninhibited streams of thought could be overwhelming at first as one reached conclusions they had never known to exist, was able to see a tragic event from an entirely new angle... He knew Delani was strong enough to deal with thoughts and memories viewed without the haze of romanticisms. But, he still feared the pain that might come. When he had first reached a truly meditative state, he was able to assign logic to his sister's death, something that had plagued him for years, causing him to swear vengeance upon the sands and the stones and Makutsi's sweet rain. When he had finally been clear-headed enough to realize that his sister's demise had been caused by her own foolishness, his world had been rocked for many a day...

[Delani Denusk]

There was a strange sense of harmony in sitting here, listening to the cadence of the caravan at peace. That thought made her remember the sound of the herds as they gathered around the Pavilions each night, both sheltering the humans they worked with and sheltered by the watchmen at the perimeter. The thunder of their hooves had always brought delight to the woman and sitting there now, this thought fixed in her mind, she no longer heard the sounds of the Chaktawe's family and friends.

The horses were life for a Drykas. They were as much family as the human who birthed and sired you were, as the brother who ran beside you. Through them, there was strength. Through them, you were one. She was one. But this reminded the woman how disconnected she now was and sitting there, so calmly, trying to focus her breathing, a tear slid down her cheek from first one eye and then the other. It had been a full season since any pavilion had been seen and Delani had been separated from the Web, and it stung. She missed the quiet presence of hundreds of lives that united the people of the horse.

But before she could try and find them, she had to heal. And that, was going to take time. And judging by what Loktupar had said, there was not much of that.

Forcing her thoughts away from the Web and the Clans, she centered instead on the sound of the horses in her mind and the peace the memory brought her while listening to the mans voice. His was a cadence she could focus on, complimented by the unheard rumble of a hundred, nay a thousand running Strider that roamed the valleys and plains of her mind. It was very peaceful...Quietly, the woman said, "How wonderful this would have been to learn at a younger age...I am certain my cousins would not have been so irked at me then, hmhm."

x

[Praetorian]

Loktupar rumbled quietly, face crinkling as he understood what she meant. "Just your cousins?" he jested, smiling fondly at the Drykas. He really was coming to care for this woman, he realized reluctantly. Something about her strength, her tenacity... It appealed to him in an odd way. But, his heart realized with an aching sort of pain, it is not meant to be. These emotions... they are as foreign to me as the woman inspiring them. If things were different... ... No. Fate is as it should be. But I will not burden her with my feelings when all will soon change. For a tick, his inner-exhaustion showed forth. How wonderful it would be to be able to live each day as he pleased without an inkling as to what was coming. But then again, his gift had saved so many lives. He supposed that his own anguish would be worth it in the end. Perhaps Lhex would see it fit to give him a more peaceful life next time around. Shaking his head lightly, the Chaktawe's eyes refocused on the woman before him. "Now... let's see you try again..."

Your Diligence Has Been Rewarded! Player 1 Observation +4 XP Meditation +4 XP Horsemanship +1 XP Land Navigation +2 XP Interrogation +2 XP Rhetoric +3 XP I am Drykas; we know horses Loktupar: The Seer Among the Caravan Loktupar: The Troubled Camel Meditation: Inner Peace Notes : Adored writing this thread with you! Now, on to the next one! Have any questions, comments, or concerns? Feel free to message me.