Closed Perchance To Dream

[Aoren]

18th of Spring, 515 AV

The Seer was focused intently on the wall in front of him. Specifically he was focused on what he had placed over the wall. The Shield that he had draped over the outer wall of the entrance to the Sanctuary was still in place. From what he could observe it hadn’t suffered any extensive structural damage and seemed to be holding up fairly well. When he had initially constructed the Shield he had considered forming it with the task of blocking the natural elements to prevent wear and tear upon the building. It seemed a brilliant way to give back to the home that had given him so much. When Aoren had actually begun the work of tasking against such a thing he’d found that it was a more complicated matter than that.

From a logical standpoint, tasking a Shield against the natural elements placed the Shield on a level that constantly exposed it to assaults. The wear and tear on the weave would be tremendous. Within a matter of days the djed of the Shields put in place would have shattered under the strain. He would have to take things at a slower pace. He would have to be more specific in what he wanted to place down as far as protection for the Sanctuary. He drew upon his djed placing a hand upon the Shield in place over the wall. Thus far he had tasked it only with the blocking of djed that was not his own. The budding mage stirred the weave of the Shield into motion.

A series of tests had resulted in the overall concept of how to charge a Shield with blocking the natural element of fire. The experiment had been met with mild success though it had ultimately resulted in failure. Still, it was a step in the right direction. Taking hold of what he’d learned from his test he applied it to the djed that he began weaving into the Shield he’d already put in place. As Aoren worked he drew upon the powers of magical sight that he might better witness the details his tasking.

He carefully studied the structural integrity of the wall itself as he willed the strands of his Shield to bind to the stone. Steadily he pushed the Shield as close to the outer layer of the walls as he could manage instilling the notion of blocking fire into the construct all the while. It was slow, diligent work. The task of Shielding something a fair bit more intricate than the act of just expelling an elemental force of nature from his body. Nevertheless he was happy to do it if it meant making safer those he cared for.

When he was confident that the Shield had been imparted with the notion of blocking fire woven together with the task of blocking djed in as effective a manner as possible, Aoren stepped back. He kept hold of his Auristic vision checking over the threads of the Shield that he had willed to latch onto the wall closely. The overall consistency seemed sound. He could spot no major gaps in the work that he had fashioned. With a nod the Seer began running through the notes he would add to the listing of work he’d begun around the Sanctuary. Walking through the main entrance he made his way through the herb gardens, past the pool, through the healing clinic and toward the tunnel leading to The Within. He paused on his way to The Within. Across the main courtyard his gaze came to rest on the forge. It was manned these days by Asdar Brightlin, a man who had arrived at the Sanctuary with his daughter.

Aoren was reminded of the last time he had actually visited a forge. While he had purchased weaponry since that time it had been over a year since he’d actually observed a smith toiling away at his craft. The last conversation he’d had with such a craftsman had been an Isur in Syliras. The man had been a wealth of knowledge with a great deal of insight into the forging of weaponry. That had not been all the Isur had been skilled in.

As Aoren stared at the forge he was reminded of what else the conversation had yielded, Magecraft. He had a rudimentary knowledge of what the magic was capable of. The idea of it fascinated him but as he was beginning to learn, the resources out there to actually study it were scarce. Rousing himself from his thoughts he made his way through the underground corridors of The Within to his room where he grabbed some parchment, his ink and his quill. In short order he found himself within the library. It seemed an appropriate enough place to jot down his thoughts. He was about to make himself comfortable when the rustle of pages reached his ears.

“Hello?”

[Kavala]

Kavala was already occupying the library and trying to multitask with little success it seemed. Spread out before her were copious notes taken from what Aoren might have guessed at being a lecture. Instead, they were detailed notes Kavala had copied down in regards to one Maedoc Drust, subtitled The Wardog of Alahea, taken from Dreamwalking excursions into the Chavena.

According to Kavala's notes, which were spread all over, Drust had been in charge of hunting down and ruining Marcus Kelvic’s research… that was until the Valterrian interrupted all that.

There were other notes, notes on Iron Rock and someone called A’Kenas Zanrisi, a bonded kelvic to Irvyn Zanrisi, one of Marcus Kelvics leading researchers.

Drust had struck fear into the hearts of all the researchers. He was the Alahean boogie man, a mage of renown that was said to be a traitor to the Suvan Empire since he was half Suvan on one side if rumors were to be true. It made him a deadly warrior who wielded Alahean magic with the finesse of one of their finest mages. So he was, in short, a war mage and one of extremely powerful resources. It was said he wasn’t powerful due to his position in court as War Advisor, but that he was powerful due to his lightening quick sense of strategy. He was smart, and he was on The Suvan Empire’s most wanted list.

The warmage was brutal and systematic in his effectiveness. He wasn’t afraid of bloodshed, though she noted with interest that he had no unhealthy fondness for it either. It was just a means to an end for him. He was aristocracy and was raised utterly and completely military. And he liked to be in the heat of battle himself, not because he liked the fighting though he was skilled at it, but there and only there could he study the movements of the enemy like a true scientist, treating enemy forces like a singular living entity.

Kavala had the words 'rasied as a tool' written across one of the pages and underlined. There were other words underlined, written boldly, as if she were thinking as she wrote. "Dreamwalker" was one of them. Then there was a hastily written sub context to it. Maedoc Drust was Alahea's War Dog, one that Kova and her family strove to keep restrained with little or no effect. Why? Because he was a powerful Dreamwalker too, a deadly one, and not only did he comb the enemies records and minds for information, but he was also one that combed the Chavena for it as well.

There were other notes... marked "Vanator's Observations" with brief sketches of words like 'self possessed' and 'magical prowess' carefully scribbled in the margins. Then there was a quote ascribed to Vanator. "Inclinations, perceptions, plans, desires. Ghosts of terrible things, ambition, passion, resounded in my deepest conscience. It was like drinking from a waterfall. The sheer intensity of the magicks Drust commanded, the passion for war and power consuming, the almost devout drive to destroy the Suvan, his campaign against Kelvic. Yes, Drust was a powerful, dangerous man. And the magic after drinking of his memories, I craved the knowledge of this man for myself."

These pages lay above other notes, from someone named Emaneus with letterhead of Isur design from The Southern Boarder Post. It was an manifest list and then a small volume, hand written, on Magecrafting.

The pages under Drust's notes made sense then. They were handwritten accounts of lessons he'd taken in magecrafting from a master pre-valterrian. And if Aoren chose to look closer, he'd understand how priceless the information was.

And he'd also note how transfixed Kavala was on it. She was so focused that the one year old Konti girl sleeping in her arms seemed to have no weight. There was another child, a blond boy with deep violet skin, asleep on a wool blanket on the couch. Kavala rocked gently, her small form supporting the growing child easily as she added to the notes she poured over. She looked used to it, holding a slight baby girl with one hip and one arm while copying notes standing over a table.

She jumped slightly when Aoren looked up and offered him a smile. "Forgive the mess. I'm consolidating some research." She said, blinking as she pushed a strand of hair out of her eyes, smearing her forehead with a bit of ink as she did so. Kavala was dressed not in her usual leathers but in a comfortable dress and low sandals that befitted the warmer weather outside. And though it was warm, the darkness of the within tended to retain the cold so they simply kept the hearth burning with dried manure and wood paste that burned hotter with less smoke than traditional wood.

"You need some room?" Kavala said, realizing her papers were all over the one big common table in the library, leaving on a smaller desk or two for Aoren.

[Aoren]

Aoren inclined his head to Kavala, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. The sight of her buried in her work while still tending to the care of her children spoke volumes about the Konti woman. It was a cozy sight. A diligent mother watching over those she treasured while focused on the road ahead of her. His eyes brushed over the multitude of papers strewn about the surface of the study table. He caught sight of names that he didn’t recognize. He saw references to Suva and Alahea, the empires of old and one word in particular grabbed his attention. He would wait a moment before bringing it up though.

“Apologies. I didn’t mean to startle you. I just came to jot down some thoughts.” His smile widened. “Would you like some help sorting through yours?”

Aoren stepped up closer to the table mindful of the noise he made. He didn’t want to wake the sleeping baby nor the boy upon the couch. The Seer hadn’t much interaction with Kavala’s younglings. When it came to children the majority of his attention was devoted to Lillis. The girl had him wrapped around her little finger like twine much like her father. More than that however, Aoren felt it was part of his duty to help guide the child in her handling of the visions that sometimes visited her. As a boy he’d had no one to guide him along the path, to teach him what it meant to be a Seer. There had been a time when he’d thought he might lose himself to the Chavi but the family that he’d made for himself had grounded him.

A hand reached out to gingerly brush over one of the documents. Aoren arched an eyebrow as he skimmed the words scrawled across the surface of the page. Cobalt eyes went from the papers to Kavala.

“Where did you come by these?” There was a slight tone of disbelief in his voice. Aoren recognized notes on magic, in this case notes on Magecraft, when he saw them. There was an extensive amount of knowledge just sitting in front of him in that moment. The value of that knowledge was not lost on him. He’d spent several years pursuing such things himself. He had no passing interest in Magecraft. The fact that Kavala was in possession of what appeared to be piles of documents surrounding it left him in slight awe. He set his writing utensil down carefully. It was as if he were afraid the research in front of him might evaporate at any second.

Aoren could guess at where the knowledge of such things might have come from. He was not ignorant of the fact that Caelum was a Dreamwalker. He had a lingering suspicion that either Kavala knew and had taken advantage of that or she was perhaps blessed in such a manner herself. There was no small amount of things that could be learned by walking the Chavi.

[Kavala]

To Kavala, there was always a point in a relationship with another living thing where an offer of trust was made. Mostly, she recognized those points in horses or dogs. The pups she raised were often devoted from birth as Imperial Watchers were prone to do. But with horses it was a different thing altogether. They were busy being horses until such a point as they grew up and truthfully wanted to trust a rider or go further and be more than they could be in a herd. Some horses never wanted more than the herd, and to Kavala those were the culls. She bred those animals that had the cutting edge of desire, the ones that wanted more with all they had in them.

And though she never bred humans or had the raising of them, Aoren was one of those types as well. She shouldn't be surprised that there was a point they'd reach, a line in the sand, where trust would be extended or not. Even though he'd bespelled half her fortress with shields and had lived under its protection and in Caelums arms for seasons now, that hadn't meant her trust. Caelum had her trust utterly and whole heartedly... and to Kavala Aoren had been under the blanket of Caelum's trust.

But now, now she recognized the moment for what it was and understood that for all this man was a stranger, trust had to be offered and accepted or their relationship would not change and would not grow. She'd been careless, leaving documents around, not thinking anyone would be about. Kavala certainly had the apprentices busy enough with projects she shouldn't see them for hours. But Aoren.... Caelum's shadow and the quiet one with intense eyes.... she hadn't accounted for his whereabouts.

And here he was, asking the obvious questions and pointing out what some philosophers called the invisible obvious in the middle of the room.

Ice blue eyes met deeper darker ones as she paused for a moment. Kavala had never been afraid to step off the edge of tall things, but she was old enough and cautious enough to look before she took the last fatal step. And so she did.... looking deep.

If he knew her better he would know the notes were all in her handwriting. If he watched for a moment he could have put it together since she was adding notes to margins and updating some of the documents.

Kavala made it a point never to lie outright. This was no exception. Instead she'd deflect and distract with the best of them if the moment allowed for it and she deemed it necessary. Questions could be deflected by other questions, leaving them simply hanging in thin air unanswered and thus nailing up a huge unwritten sign reading 'do not proceed'. But that was not what she did here. She didn't deflect and didn't dissuade.

Instead, she told the simple truth.

"These are the memories of the War Dog of Alahea's Magecrafting training since his childhood up until he was a formidable force hunting Marcus Kelvic just before the Valterrian." The Konti said simply, glancing back down at the papers and shifting Ia'del to her other hip. The toddler stirred a moment, cracked open an intensely blue eye then closed it again to yawn. The slight girl drifted back to sleep. Kavala absently stroked her hair a moment and glanced at Ralac, knowing he'd be waking up soon. She wandered over to the couch, gently laid Ia'del down next to her 'twin' and comforted her until she settled. Then she returned to the table and picked up an apple from a fruit bowl, drew a fruit knife from within the bowl buried by the apples, and began peeling one, intent on cutting it up for the boy and having it ready for a light snack when he did stir. Ralac was always hungry and with good reason. He was roughly twice the size of his sister and growing faster. He might even top Tasival in height had they been the same age.

"The Chavena is rife with such things if you know where to look for it. I'm trying to recreate the pre-Valterrian Magecrafting training some of the great war mages of Alahea had. I was lucky when it came to this man. I knew him well, both in that life and this one. He was my brother, Vanator Denusk." Kavala said, glancing at Aoren to judge his reaction. She knew Aoren and Caelum were close, but she wasn't sure how much Caelum had told him.

"The Sanctuary isn't a fortress to protect healers and the animals within, Aoren. Such simple things wouldn't gain notice nor need such levels of protection. We harvest knowledge here, retrieving it from the past, and setting it back into the hands of those we trust and ourselves. When it gets done, it will be.... as it already is... priceless. His name is Maedoc Drust. There were few better that didn't belong to dark organizations that were whispered about in hushed tones in lofty halls. He was a loner and deadly. I think in the end he was good enough to kill even Marcus Kelvic for Alahea if the Valterrian hadn't interrupted." The Konti said, her voice casual, calm, resonant with Pavi for all she spoke in Common out of courtesy to Aoren.

Quietly, as if she hadn't just said what she said, the Konti continued to cut up apples into little fist sized hunks keeping half an eye on the larger one year old who's breathing had notably changed. Before Aoren could speak, Kavala was on the move again, gently helping the now awake little boy to a sitting position and handing him a few slices of apples. The boy grinned, gummed at them happily, and waved his arms around. He was quiet though, far more quiet than a boy his age just newly awakened from a nap would be. Upon close observation, one would see he was carefully watching his sister, glancing at her periodically and being careful not to kick her in his waking up activities.

He shoved part of the apple slice back into his mouth and frowned, looking first from Kavala to Aoren, as if wondering what was going on. His odd golden eyes and white hair made him look even more mysterious, more intuitive as he didso.

[Aoren]

Aoren remained impassive as Kavala spoke on the nature of what was resting before both of them. He let one hand rest at the small of his back, the other he brought to his waist tucking a thumb into the waistline. She never lost his attention the whole time she spoke. Not once did he move to interrupt her. But though he remained outwardly silent he was quietly assessing her and the situation. Kavala wasn’t foolish. She was a cautious woman if what little he knew of her struggles was to be believed. The Sanctuary was not made of high stone walls without reason. Her admission to it being a fortress made that much perfectly clear. That she was being courteous enough to speak with him plainly made his respect for the woman rise a little higher.

“I imagine you and your brother recovered this knowledge the same way Caelum does.” It was not a question but a statement of fact. Aoren possessed only a vague knowledge of what Dreamwalkers were capable of. Nevertheless he could put two and two together.

“I’ve seen a lot of things in my time. Most people leave the past where it is, behind them. The only ones who go digging for what the world left behind are those intent on using it toward…” Aoren searched for the right phrasing. When he found it he quirked his head slightly to the side. “…interesting ends.”

Aoren gestured to the papers littering the table in front of him.

“Building wonders using knowledge recovered from ages past is all fine and well. You do not house that knowledge in a fortress unless you’re expecting to be besieged however.” The Seer knew nothing about this Marcus Kelvic or the feud it seemed he had between Maedoc Drust. With the way Kavala spoke on the both of them however it seemed they were men of considerable power. Aoren had met men of power before. He could only imagine how terrible of a struggle that might have been. Perhaps it was for the best that it was halted by the burning of the world before it could unfold. It reminded Aoren of what he’d left behind when he traveled away from Syliras. It reminded him of the chaos he’d left behind when he’d parted ways with Zeltiva. A dark cloud was forming on some distant horizon that Aoren could not see. It was what kept him awake at night. It was what motivated him to layer protection upon the home he’d found, the people he loved, and the ones they cherished.

“I know you do not know me. You’ve given me a life here. One I scarcely believed that I could have. For that, words cannot express the gratitude I feel. But what you’re doing here is not lost on me, Kavala.” He nodded to the table. No one looked into the past this heavily without reason. He closed his eyes bringing up his right hand brushing the fingers of his left over the lily that rest there. With a steady breath he opened them again.

“There is disquiet in the world. A lingering…something…skulking around the unseen places. It was in Syliras. It was in Zeltiva.” He met Kavala’s gaze as she fed her son, the boy with eyes far too observant for a child his age. “It seems that it is here in Riverfall too.”

The Seer dropped his gnosis marked hand bringing the other to rub at the back of his neck.

“I suppose the only thing I can ask is, what are you preparing for? If you’ll not tell me that, then tell me how I can help.”

[Kavala]

She moved back over to the table as Aoren spoke. Keeping eye contact with him, she nodded at his words looking thoughtful. When he finished, she didn't speak immediately, but instead leaned a lithe hip up against the table. It was a thinking stance, one that she normally accomplished wearing leathers, not cotton. It was the stance of someone who knew how to fight and also who knew how to rest when the threat was over.

Kavala's lips twitched upwards into a semblance of a smile. She had no idea what Caelum had revealed to Aoren, but Aoren was revealing plenty of his own knowledge to her. "We are all of us, whether marked or not, Nysel's warriors here." Kavala said, affirming what Aoren had guessed. Her own marks, hidden, were a place she could not politely show the other man. Her Eyris mark, was, however revealed on the back of a bare hand. "And Rak'keli's and Eyris' and a whole host of others. We understand lines drawn and boundaries that should not be crossed. We cross them anyhow. That's why we live within stone and raise our children carefully, keeping our friends close and our supplies stockpiled." The Konti said, her voice dangerous in that moment.

She glanced down at the notes before her.

"These pages don't belong in the past. Not really. They are as a part of us as our breath is. Maybe it's because I grew up Drykas that I think so. But we live our stories, over and over again. Humans like you, Aoren, often speak of good and evil. Evil shuns good and Good shuns evil. But to those longer lived or those more in touch with their history.... they know that to understand an enemy.... a true enemy... one must live their lives or walk down their memories. Only a drop of the story is in the now. You standing here... you are not the whole of your existence. The whole of you stretches out behind you in any experience you've ever had that's molded you." Kavala said, the dangerous gleam in her eyes leaving to be replaced by more thoughtfulness than anything.

She slipped a ring off her finger. It gleamed black with a hint of red. "This ring burns when Zith fly over or are near. It has magic infused into its core, magic that was placed there by a magesmith I know who is quite good at magecrafting. But this represents just a small portion of what is out there. There are things beyond even my imagination that threaten the world. Those things threaten the safety of my children. If I don't study this... if I don't learn this... how do I then counter things out there that I don't now currently understand? Fear is crippling and often born of ignorance. I have being afraid. I hate not having control. These notes changes things. They level the race track so all horses are galloping across level grown, not steep uphill unknown territory." Kavala said, hoping Aoren understood what she was saying.

"I was once born into a clan of assassins. They raised their babies not in love but in hate... hatred of the Gods. They seek to bring down the Gods and anything or anyone marked by them or of interest to them. They would kill you on sight, Aoren, if they saw your marks. It doesn't matter what kind of a person you are. They see marks and they see taint. And they cut it from the world like us healers cut unusual growths from tissue. I remember what it was like to be Ruv'na.... to be trained to kill and to be taught to hate. I can still feel that hatred sometimes like a hollow echo of a scream just dying off on the edge of my hearing. The Ruv'na are in Riverfall. They are everywhere. It might be what you feel. It might not be. If not them, there are others.... others who seek only personal gain and personal power. Some of them know about this magic. Some of them evne have skills in it. They would not hesitate to kill the world again, like Ivak tried to do in grief, if it served their purpose." The Konti said, firm in her belief this was right.

"I would not hesitate to do anything I can to counter that threat. Anything. If it means learning this, then yes I will... and anything else I can. Dreamwalking is a way of life to me. My past is as real as my present. My future will be just as present as my present is now someday." Kavala said, shaking her head softly.

"The Anvil of The Southern Boarder Post sent me a full set of magecrafting tools. I trade with them regularly. He also sent me a childs manual and has been guiding me in my studies. These notes... will put me on an education no one has seen here in more than five hundred years. It might save my life. It might save your life. It might even save my children's lives. That's why I built a forge beneath the forge... with everything there we need to get started. Vanator was going to help me. My brother, after all, has done this before.." Her snort was a painful mixture of sorrow and loss. "But he fell in love and let his Dryks blood sweep him back out onto the Sea of Grass. I don't know if or when he will return. It matters little anyhow. I'm still going to learn." The Konti said.

Kavala said thoughtfully, pausing carefully once more before she continued. We all should. All the Cytali here should. That way when we harvest old knowledge, we can infuse it and put it back to work immediately." The Konti added, not certain Aoren would understand.

[Aoren]

“I speak not of good or evil. Those things exist but they are not easily defined. Too many people fall into the belief that what stands with me is good and right while that which stands against me is wicked and wrong. I am not one of those people. Neither are you.” He clasped his hands behind his back considering what Kavala had shared with him. She painted an endless picture littered with the landscapes wrought by a thousand and one lives. There were parts of her painting that resonated with Aoren. There were parts of it that he did not understand but he did not have to understand them in whole to get the meaning of Kavala’s words.

The mention of the Ruv’na brought a quirk of Aoren’s eyebrow. He did not know who they were but it was apparent what they stood for. The idea of men and women standing in defiance of the gods baffled him. Aoren had not always been so firm in his faith but he couldn’t imagine a world without the Divines and the miracles they brought into the world. The thought was near heresy to him. By the conviction of her words, the steely look in her eyes, the stance of her body however, Aoren could tell that Kavala was not speaking on these matters from a purely philosophical point of view. She believed these things. She’d lived them. Aoren would venture a guess that she lived them still. A memory drifted its way across Aoren’s consciousness. He recalled a conversation that he’d had with Caelum not so long ago.

“The gods can gives us a thousand tools but if we do not use them what good are they?” The sentence was spoken more under his breath to himself than to Kavala. He nodded. The woman loved and cared for her family.

“I do not know what I felt. I just know that I feel something wrong. Something that floats on the edge of my awareness. I have spent many hours meditating in prayer seeking counsel from Avalis. If she answers, I have yet to hear her. With time though it will become clear. These Ruv’na sound hateful. They sound full of spite and anger. Does that make them evil? It makes them different. Does it make them wrong? I've lived my life bearing witness to too many other lives to disregard what they believe. I just know that it's not what I believe.” He folded his arms over his chest. He and Caelum had taken a walk into the depths of his own Chavi. They had searched for who Aoren was in the days that came before his present life. Those were not things he was ready to share with anyone outside of the other man though. Not yet. He searched Kavala’s face for a few moments.

“The only father I have ever known once asked me a question.” His thoughts turned to Leoshan. Warmth spread through him as he remembered the old man.

“By the gifts that I give you, how many lives are made better by it? It was the oddest thing to ask at the time. As I grew, I understood what he meant. His intent was to make me think not on how many lives I could go forth and shield under the umbrella of my strength. I came to understand that what he meant was for me to consider how to use my gifts responsibly. Whether for better or worse. He was not a man who believed he could groom me into being what he wanted rather he taught me to consider the difference between selfishness and selflessness. I think you would have liked him.” Aoren picked up a sheet of parchment studying the words written upon its surface carefully. He lowered it looking not at Kavala but at the children that were her life. A softness touched Aoren’s face as he regarded them.

“If it is to protect that you wish to learn these things, Kavala, will you let me walk this road with you?” He thought on the skill it must have taken to create the ring that Kavala wore. He thought on the wonders that Magecrafting could yield. It did not stop there though. Many times he had stopped to think on everything that was lost with the coming of the Valterrian. More than just lives. An entire way of life was washed away in the rising tide of death and fire.

“Whether I am marked by Nysel or not, this place, this haven, this Sanctuary…” He set the parchment down with a nod. “This is my home now. This is my family. I don’t know who the Ruv’na are. I don’t know who the Cytali are but I can guess. Life isn’t about good or evil. It’s about choices and facing the consequences of those choices. Well I’m making my choice.”

He released a breath.

“So show me the consequences.” His stance was one of conviction. His voice did not halt. It was not raised but there was no mistaking where he stood. Caelum considered this woman his best and closest of friends. Kavala was hinting at who she was and that meant that Caelum was likely a part of that. He didn’t know Kavala but the man he’d come to love trusted her with his life. For the moment that would have to suffice. Where things went from there, he suspected he wouldn’t have to wait long to find out.