Closed Pass The Parcel.

[Archailist]

OOCOnly if you'll forgive mine! D:

He wished that he'd spent more time studying the cultures and such of the Nykans before migrating for study. He knew such little of the place, and all of its oddities - especially the Aperture, for which apparently even the Nykans didn't understand. When she pointed at it, he stared at it with new-found rapture though. He'd crossed it thousands of times, of course, over the different bridges layered over each-other. The whole city, built around a big hole. It sounded silly, but when he heard it's name.. The Heart of the World. It sounded much more magical, romantic than before, something that he wished to know more of even if it meant that he'd waste countless hours cooped up in a library instead of studying for his knighthood, and squire-hood too - the training, working in the forests, but the forests weren't as mysterious as this, were they.

At least the questions were being answered. But they just led to even more questions on those questions. "But why is there so little known about them and yet there is such a story written on them?" It seemed odd that whoever had written it, hadn't even deigned to give them a profession or a name - just a little offhand explanation as to what they vaguely resembled. "Were they both monks - were they from different places in Nyka, different quarters?" It wouldn't have made much sense, but then again, it would have made less sense not to include all of these important details.

Her explanation stopped him dead in his tracks. All thoughts of the Aperture were set aside for later. "Wait - he really thought that?" There was obviously some odd culture gap in this story - a species gap even, and he was staring up at Naia. "Are there humans who still believe that? It's never been something that any Pycon will have known." Gender didn't really matter in the end - every Pycon was their own to make their own of the world around them, and it didn't matter if you were big or small, male or female, poor or rich. What mattered was your courage and your spirit, if you were willing to push yourself to the new heights that were demanded.

".. You've lost me." Now she was talking about looks.. which he would never understand. It was fairly difficult to, if you could change your face at a whim and shift your entire body to whatever you pleased, whether to look beautiful or ugly.. and to be infatuated with the face rather than what was beneath was something that he had never encountered, and never would. "Is this something that only Nykans know about?" His brows were furrowing by this point in the story, too. They made him look angry, even though he was just confused by the scene that she'd made.

[Naia Whitewater]

Naia's Speech | Thoughts | Others' Speech

Naia's new little pycon friend had a multitude of questions, it seemed, and she was quick to answer when she had a moment's time. "It's an old story, and probably passed the lips of dozens before it hit paper." Such a short, clipped little sentence seemed enough, in her own mind to fore ground the issues, trying to sort through which what which and what was what. "In terms of who they were, the man was no monk, and he wasn't Nykan born. The woman, born and raised a native." Naia shot an uneasy glance at Hedyla before pressing forward, the woman the only of the three who could claim to be Nykan through and through before pressing on.

"I suppose there are two reasons that could be attributed to the general lack of knowledge of the two. Firstly, it could have simply been lost or left out, or it could have been done so with purpose." she chose her words carefully, thinking for a short moment how she was to explain the next concept. "Such that they represent an entire peoples, I mean. The woman is the typical Nykan beauty, from her height to her hair, and the man a fine example of the kind of features you wouldn't usually see on a native. Rather than a tale of this person and that person, it is more or less supposed to represent Nyka herself and an outsider."

It was quite a complex little thing she was speaking in terms of, knowing herself that she would be as knowledgeable on the subject herself if it wasn't for a pod with a penchant for tall tales, and a father with a need to explain and analyse every little detail.

"His undermining her? Although his infatuation with her was sprouted merely based on beauty, mystery and intrigue, his manner of undermining her was more so in his disrespect her culture and intolerance for her beliefs and values - he expected her to conform to his own ideals because he believed himself right, and she wrong. I think the case here..." She trailed, rechecking her words, and ensuring the matched up well to what was written on the pages before her.

"Has a greater part attributed to his upbringing and self-respect, he saw himself some wondrous figure and she his maiden to be wooed and tamed and taught the 'right' way. He did not take her beliefs seriously because he saw them as a challenge to be overcome, not a value to be understood. If it was a man that he'd become infatuated with, I doubt that there'd be any much difference - now that I'm taking a far closer look at things. I suppose she being a woman, who he seems to believe are easily mislead, only made matters worse."

Though, the little pycon had posed quite the interesting little confusion. The women of Nyka were as plucky as the men, there was no doubt of that, though Naia herself grew up in a pod where the word of a woman with a title that only women could bear held all power. "As to whether or not there are people who do think the way that our vain little golden-boy did, I'm quite sure there are - I'd just doubt that they'd last long in a city such as this. No matter how great or treacherous the world, there will always be those wise and those completely moronic."

The conversation thus far was certainly heavy, and it took Naia a further moment to collect herself before considering the next thought, the value of beauty. She almost sighed at the thought of having to explain such a thing, such a simple and vain and fleeting thing. "Not just Nykans have a care for looks, most species do. No everyone can change their appearance on a whim - so those born lucky enough to be pleasing to the eye often draw a lot of attention." Her sigh was heavy and final, and she sincerely hoped that she needed to speak little of the matter before she moved on to the real good part of the tale.

She flitted though the pages quickly and carefully, having almost forgotten how old the tome was, and why they had it in the first place, "Back the tale, we're almost done." she gave a smirk as she reread the following page of text, already rewording it in her mind as she tried to tell how to change what to keep things true but better suited for her manner of speech.

"It's nearing on dusk, the woman has long gone forgotten her threats of violence, and turned to a battle of wits. The man refuses to back down, as I mentioned, he believes his way to be the only way, a life to live for oneself and only their self, calling our dear maiden all manner of slurs as his own temper reaches new heights. In his blind ranting and raging, attraction is brought, and soon enough the woman draws the company of half a dozen fellows, each in fierce defense of their lifestyle and their city."

Naia's own excitement was in full swing, then, her usual soft spoken voice reaching such a loudness that she received a quite hush from Hedyla, her expression quirking to an odd little grimace as she tried to hide her childish little look, smirk lopsided, and a constant control and watch on her speed as she neared the 'best part.'

"That is when the night falls, clouds looming over head darkening the skies quicker than than what was considered quite normal, and the natives themselves quivered slightly. The man did not relent, and the natives found themselves restraining one another and pressing closer and tighter knit, already the sounds of the little terrors that roamed the night unnerving all caught outside. It was then that a black fog came, and a horrid, putrid stench. Several of the citizens lost their wits and willpower, dashing from the group to be eclipsed by the abyss, the sound of the golden haired man's screams resounding above their own. Closer still the group huddled, none willing to spare a single breath. Then the blackness lifted, and they were safe."

[Archailist]

He set the quill down gently on the discarded tome and hopped over it to take up a closer vantage to the work that Naia was reading out, scanning over the pages for any discernible words; as if he was trying to verify what she was saying, or simply just because he wanted to see if there was anything else here that she was missing. She'd answered his questions, of course, but there was no volume to them, some parts still felt vague and he couldn't create a mental picture.. but then, perhaps that was just down to him rather than her. It was definitely down to him that he couldn't really understand a word of the tome, but he still tried.

"So.. they just represent the different peoples. They're not, like, real." It was supposedly fiction, or that's what he'd thought, but the stories still seemed odd to not include at least some measure of truth underneath. "Nyka meets outsider.. Nyka gets upset over outsider.." Yep, that was his way of summing it up, though he mumbled it to himself rather than said it out-loud. As she continued, he added to it. "Nyka meets outsider, Nyka gets upset over outsider undermining her because he doesn't understand the same values as she has, so she punches him in the face!" Well, that certainly made some sense. It'd taken a long while, but they'd finally managed to untangle the strands of sentences that had once been a story. Or, most of it, apparently - there was still more to be told, but it was already getting late. He couldn't tell how many bells and chimes they'd been stood, poring over the same tome and never copying out any of the other books that were stacked up high to the sides of the desks.

"Wait.. wait, that makes no sense. What was the fog?" He'd lost the story again, and was left simply staring blankly. Even backtracking in his mind over the previous parts couldn't resolve the ending.. if that was even the ending. It didn't sound like a particularly good one, in his own opinion.

While he pondered over all of this, though, another part of his mind was working frantically over what the girl had been talking about, beyond the story. The idea that there could be those judging others not on their spirit but their faces. It was nearly sickening, but at the same time quietly enlightening to a culture that he'd never even considered before and the implications of not being able to change features or the body. It was stupid, of course, to do such a thing - to have expectations of someone without knowing about them, and to focus understanding on something that had absolutely no relation to intelligence or willpower. Of course, Pycon would never fall for such dubious bias - but it was still interesting to see how others could. Regardless of their social standard, regardless of their knowledge of weapons and magics, and their social etiquette. They were still prone to one of the oldest and most barbaric and uncivilized ideals. It opened a whole new perspective on the human species.

Even in the stories hidden away in their libraries, there were stories of humans who judged books by their covers and never looked what was inside. Astonishing.

[Naia Whitewater]

Speech | Thoughts | oocI'm tired, so I'll probably be back in and hour or two to rewrite and tidy it up, but you get the gist of it. Sorry! D:

Nope, no. Naia wasn't good at words, and she slowly rubbed her temples as she tried to work at the words that simply wouldn't come. She was a scribe, not a teacher. She liked to think in depth and analyse, but she knew little in critical analyses, something which she felt she direly needed to change. "It's a fairy tale, after all. Perhaps there was someone like this once upon a time, but to separate fact from fiction in this case seems impossible- Nyka being such a generally odd place and all."

With a bitter sigh, her gaze falling heavy on the scrawled text, she looked over the last little hunk of text, pulling the tale to a whole new height. Fanciful beasts and creeping shadows, a cold wind and a tight grip. It took another moment before Arch's words began to seep through her, trying to figure a response worth the breath.

"I'm not sure what the fog it supposed to be," she sighed, more of a huff than a heavy release of air. "As the story continues, the citizens went home that night with a guard of beasts and ghouls to protect them. Shadows did not stir, the wind was warm and gentle, when one fell they boasted that they felt little pain, the stone ground did not feel jagged or hard."

Naia rolled her shoulders, her lip soon bitten and fingers wringing. "Several were from different quarters, and even they felt at home within their respective regions, the feeling did not shift or change." She wasn't sure how long the pycon had spent in Nyka, nor how deep his knowledge on the city was. "As the years went on, they each lived their lives as any Nykan, only one or remaining to be friends."

Now that the story was near it's end, it was rather strange. "When came time of each man or woman to lose their life, be it illness or old age, the fog came for them. Instead of screams and yells, the men and women accepted what came, and instead of being dragged kicking and screaming, they went willing and happy. According to this little fairy tale, they themselves became twisted creatures of some sort, guardians of Nyka in their own right."

[Archailist]

Suddenly understood something. Or it seemed that way. It was like a story that one couldn't make sense of until they'd heard all the details, in his mind. He was glad that he'd asked the questions. "So.. basically, the citizens of Nyka were undermined by others. The others believed the to be weaker because of simply what they were. But when darkness came, they were saved from it and seemed to be made even stronger by it, while others fell around them that had once doubted their true strength. Because their strength was in their courage and spirit." Perhaps he was making some mistakes, but it sounded like that. The girl and her citizens were those of Nyka; the man and his followers, the rest of Mizahar that doubted the monks prowess because of the discipline of their religion and their spiritual boundaries. Wherever the fog had come from, must have been the Aperture.. but why did everyone fear such a place if it provided them with safety.

Was it a gateway to the afterlife. Where the Gods would send their creatures to aid the Nykans in their time of need, the Heart of the World.. their domain. But if it was such a gateway, why did it attract the demons of the world too? Were they trying to break the barrier.. and find their way inside. And the demons that some suspected were inside the thing, were they not demons, but angels protecting the gateway?

And were those few that had ventured inside and never returned, were they those special few that had found the gateway and passed through to the other side.. but never returned from the afterlife to tell the tale?

All of these thoughts rushed through his head faster than he could actually process them. It was all confusing up until the picture was built, like pieces of a puzzle falling into place to reveal the picture that stared them in the face all along. But, he imagined, that this was the same that many other adventurers had felt when they'd gone inside to find the source of all the mystery of Nyka. And whether to an afterlife or not, it had led to their deaths. It made him more afraid and more curious than ever before about its origins.. why the city had been built around such a thing, and truly what god lay beneath the Aperture. There were many that it could be.. but which. It would not be a divine, benevolent.. why would it appear in such a foul stench of black fog?

Could they all be surrounded by the work of Urta? A god of death protecting the city.. but it sounded so unlikely that he dispelled it immediately. Could it be Vayt, or Rhysol? Equally as stupid. He couldn't make head or tail of it, so he dispelled it and sighed quietly. "Odd story, indeed.." He couldn't even come up with an adequate answer. "So.. who wrote it?" His curiosity had been sated, somewhat, but he knew now that he couldn't rely on answers from Naia. He could only flip over the tomb and try to decipher the words on the front to find out the author. "Is he alive; can I talk to him?"

[Naia Whitewater]

Speech | Thoughts

Pressing her lips and giving the tome a hard glare, Naia's gaze sought the selection of shelving that held, or she thought was likely to hold, and scorned herself for not being better read. 'Maybe I'll have to ask a scholar for a favour,' she thought, before she found herself satisfied enough at the premise that she was able to push the matter behind her for the moment. 'Are there any scholar who particularly care for Nykan fairy tales?'

When Arch gave his take on her words, any semblance of confusion was stripped from Naia's expression, a small grin taking place in it's steed. "It's a story, one's opinion is their own, but I'm inclined to agree with you more often than not." She began slowly nodding to herself, caught in thought and poring her mind over Arch's words. It was a strange story to start with, set in a time she had no idea, causing a further cloud in clarity. Was it told because there was some foreigner? Did a sudden growth in Syliras' might prompt people to such tales? Was it a warning to the people, or a summons for strength? A way to make the children feel more safe when night fell?

A sigh left her as she took another look over the page, a breathless giggle leaving her as she scrutinized the words. "This is why I try not to analyse and read as I work. You can come to basic conclusions by yourself, but anything further requires thought, conversation, and knowledge of a lot of little things. Sometimes even then, you still don't 'get it.'"

Naia's gaze had been fixed hard upon her work for half a dozen ticks before Arch threw an unexpected question at her, as she wasn't sure whether to give an answer quick and clipped, or to delve deeper. Gods, she had work to do! The mentioning of the twisted tale was meant to interest the pycon in the work well enough that he, well, did the work. "I wouldn't count on he or she being living," she said, before carefully flipping to the front, seeking an mention of an author or date, "Well, we have a name." she said, soon enough, nodding slowly as she silently tested pronunciations before she spoke aloud, "B. Nemeth."

[Archailist]

He nodded sagely as he paced back and forth along the top of the tome, staring down at the upside-down words with a gentle frown etched across his face. It seemed almost impossible to decipher.. the truth of the story, the meanings that it could have were indiscernible. It could have just been a complete farce produced by an old man for his young daughter to teach her of the dangers of the world - or it could have been completely true, written down and documented by one of the survivors that had lived long enough to see the tale and record it before dying peacefully and becoming one of the monsters as the tale described it. Or it could have been some mangled combination of the two, half-twisted from time and whispers and half completely true. It just didn't add up though in the end, the result.. and it left him scratching his head with two blunt claws as he looked up to Naia, then down again at the tomb. "I can understand that. Trying to analyse this would take most of my life, and by that point, someone could have uncovered another."

After some time, he just stopped and stared at the jumble of words. "Yeah.. it sounds like an old story. And it's written in an old tome. Guess that shouldn't be a surprise. But are there any other works by him in here?" He gestured widely around the hall and frowned again, in a way that only squirrels could - his long face had just the edges pulled down, with the middle just a long flat line in the clay that made it look like he didn't even have any lips. In truth he didn't anyway.

"There must be something that relates back to this story, something similar or at least relevant. Something mentioning the mist, or the Aperture.." He was getting worked up in himself, tangled - he should have been paying more attention to other things but Naia had succeeded too well in drawing him into the books, and now they were practically all he could think about. An itch somewhere in the back of his head, where he guessed his non-existent brain should have been. "Something that mentions something relevant to this - is there anyone who could know such things? I mean.. stories by the man. Or stories along similar lines."

The sun was setting through the tall windows. He barely noticed the long-abandoned tome that he had been copying off in the beginning until he literally tripped over it and scowled down at the thing. "Oh.. right." He'd barely managed a few words in the bells that they'd spent talking and analysing the ancient tome and all of its stories. The quill still hung in its pot, both of the books open and gaping with blank pages. Maybe he actually should have payed more attention to that, than the story.. not only was there his work left abandoned, but also the mountain of books that should have been completed near Naia. Looked like they were going to be here a while catching up.

[Naia Whitewater]

Speech | Thoughts

Of all the things she'd have thought to come of the little game of tales and telling, to actually instill a sense of curiosity in a pycon surely wasn't it. What she'd hoped for was an appreciation, or an understanding at most. Not such heavy looks and thoughtful expressions, neither of which she'd have thought to see on the clay people. It felt strange to see Arch in such a state, and Naia was well on her way to straightening her dress and returning to work when he posed a question that had her frown.

"What do you..." she trailed, rolling her shoulders as she followed Arch's line of sight, trying to shift and change her own thoughts she sought to think in the same manner as the pycon. What was it he meant?

"I..." she trailed, not quite sure as to how the books were sought and kept. The author of the tome was very well important in the credibility of the work, though there were many books such those before her wherein time had erased who ever it was who wrote it. "I don't know, I'd have to do a thorough check of the section."

She held her tongue as Arch continued with his words, a little fire seeming to be burning brightly as he thought and paced and pulled the sweetest of expressions. "But if you come back another day, I'm sure we-" Naia's gaze hit the skies, and she dropped a quite curse as glared at the work yet to be down. "Hedyla?" she said, coming to the realisation that her dear little helper had at some point vanished, cussing before she capped the ink and cleaned off the tips of the quills, spare books promptly set away in the draws, the tomes to be transcribed in their own.

"Arch, we need to go. Mathius will be locking up soon." her words were quick and breathless, mind a whirl with thoughts of her own long trek home. "You do not want to be caught out at night."

[Archailist]

OOCHope you like my new design!

He appeared to have stumped her with his barrage of questions, though his mind changed so suddenly that soon all of his curiosity had disappeared into thin air - now he was simply worried about the copying work that he'd been doing, and abruptly forgotten about. After all, wasn't he supposed to be helping the girl instead of siting in rapt wonder while she spoke of things that hardly concerned him. He was supposed to be leaving Nyka for Syliras within the next few seasons, once he found someone suitable for accompanying him. There wouldn't be time to mount a full-scale excavation into the history of the city and all of the mysteries inside, there was a much bigger job for him to conquer - to become a well-respected Syliran Knight, the first and only Squirrel-Squire. A prestigious and noble cause, he thought quietly to himself. But yet instead he was here, delving in things that would never lead to his ultimate goal.

"Never mind, don't worry about it. It's not important actually.." he murmers suddenly, looking down at the books with that same frown. "I've got too much other work to get over with before returning, I'm afraid." He'd become awfully formal, all at once, because he knew that he shouldn't even be here. It'd taken so long to arrive, but it was all for nothing in the end if he was just going to be all for nothing - left studying myths and tales rather than out in the wildlands and the schools, training with the monks and the travelers.

And being left, locked, in the building was certainly something that he didn't want. Like Naia, he'd barely noticed the quite girl disappearing all of a sudden without even a word, and her books left out as well. It was as if the fog had come and swallowed her whole, like in the story. "Of course - what do you want me to take?" His stubby arms were held outstretched, although he wouldn't be able to carry much anyway, given his small stature. "I'll be able to make it out anyway. You forget, I can slip under the doors." He was quite proud of that - the knowledge that he could quite easily escape through a locked door or nearly anywhere else. He could never imagine a human trying to accomplish the same feat, but there were scarce tales.

[Naia Whitewater]

Speech | Thoughts

Naia wasn't one to take to shock or surprise, but worry none the less etched her features as she considered the pycon's words.

'Is he suggesting that he stays in?'

The thought of such a thing chilled her to the bone. Made of clay or not, she doubted the things that went bump in the night would rightly care. Or would they not? It was by magic that he was brought into life, so she supposed that it was inherently possible that what-ever-it-was didn’t see him as a living, breathing being – nothing but clay and magic. But was it worth the risk? Even more so if there was a requirement to cross the aperture?

“Arch…” she began, expression firm with an eyebrow raised, his own words as to staying in late to work having her seek the tome she’d meant to work on to take home for herself, yet hesitant about leaving a pycon she’d just met, whom until not too long ago lacked much core for the place, alone with treasured books. “How long have you been in Nyka?- You've never strayed outside at night?”

The question rang out in the dead silence of the room, the skies growing dimmer by the very moment, Naia’s sudden awareness to the world around her having the familiar scents and smells hit her in a surge, from the ink, to the dyes, and dust all the more stronger with the absence of soup.

“Nevermind,” she shook her head at thought of what she was doing, wasting time to a horrific point.“Don't worry about taking work, having you here was splended company. Hedyla got a great deal done before her little disappearance, so there is little to worry about - I'll just give her my slab of meat tomorrow noon and she'll be happy to take it for her efforts.” A sigh escaped her lips as she gave her work-to-be-done a glare. “Don't you worry about my work, either. I want to take it, there is little else to do at home, anyway. Speaking of which- where are you staying?”

The Svefra only realised how odd her question must have sounded after it left her lips, and she did little to retract her words as she made the final preparations to leave, wondering if she'd have company for much of the walk home.

ooc :

Totally adorable! (No sarcasm) Though, the avatar is pretty damn terrifying Uh, could I please request that you bold speech? It's just a lot easier to write responses if the words spoken are bold/coloured and easy to see immediately, I tend to do a lot of flicking back and forth when I write :S But in the end it is up to you! If it's too much of a bother, don't worry about it

I hope you don't mind wrapping up the thread soon enough, I’d rather not have Naia sleep at work or be taken on her venture home, though I'm happy to start another at some point! Perhaps we could talk to Baldy to see if there is anywhere we can take the fairy tale? Sorry it's so bad! I hadn't expected you to actually ask about it beyond a short mention to get Arch interested in trying to write XD Balders said that fairy tales reinforce Nyka's values of unity and what not.

I was just going to have it nice and simple, but then I remembered it was supposed to be a fairy tale, and the initial story I had written was totally petching plausible for a city as weird as Nyka. Hence why people get taken by mist and turned into monsters, and also why I had no idea how to respond to questions about the story’s meanings XD Note to self: if I mention a tale or story, I better petching have one.