Closed Barren minds

[Evhor]

36th of Summer, 515 AV It was a warm summer day the one the sun was saying its farewell to, meeting the earth on the line far across the lands. As the day reached his crimson end, a young man walked on his own in the wilderness surrounding the Citadel, lost in thought. In the first place, he was already tired of watching his back, fearing every shadow in that new, strange place. Secondly, he was concentrated on his Judgement. He snorted at the memory of when he was informed of that particular passage of his admission. Though scared, Evhor was sure he could do it. He had spent many years refining his skill. The only question was: what could he do to impress the judges enough to let him begin apprenticeship? Not a dimonstration of raw power, he thought, for he lacked that much energy and it would have been annoyingly childish. Control then must be. Knowing that, he should have been able to find something within his reach but at the same time impressive enough to have him accepted in. But he couldn't. He had thought of that for many hours, and he knew his time was approaching at an alarmingly quick pace, but he couldn't find anything. So he had decided to roam in the wilderness, hoping that nature could be able to give him some sort of clue. He snorted again and shook his head, stopping mid-stride. It was quite hyronic that he, a master of the natural and elemental forces, had to rely back on the pure source. Then again, master is really inappropriate... He thought after a moment. He considered himself a dabbler, though a gifted one. But here, he would have had to deal with people much mor epowerful than he was, with knowledge he couldn't even start to coinceive of. He shuddered. A portion of all that could be his. If only he could think of something... He glanced around and noticed a spot that seemed to suit him. It was just a rock taller that those nearby, but it was perfect to sit on. With a sigh of relief, Evhor removed his boots and let his feet rest on the rock. Bare feet for bare rocks. Darkness was approaching, so he got some sprigs and put them in front of him. Then he let his hand hover above the twigs and begun chanting a word over and over again, focusing his inner senses on his Djed, which immediately answered to his call. A fine, ethereal, bluish mist spread from Evhor's fingers, then thickening into drops that fell on the sprigs. With a final effort of will, Evhor transmuted the drops of Res into pure fire and watched the flames timidly coming to life. He let his gaze fall on the flames and his soul in their dance, but his mind was sharp and focused. So he sat, still and silent, watching the flames consume the wood and time devour his hope.

[Kamilla]

Kamilla Circe Gordon

Syna may have been in the process of turning in for the night but, like Leth, Kamilla had only just awoken, the young sorceress stepped out of the cold Quarters and into the warmer summer air as she made her way towards the Vestibule not satisfied with being outside in the eerie courtyard that had never been the same since her discovery of ghosts. She had spent twenty bells at 'work' in masters Erikur and Erikus' lab only being released from duty sometime before noon where she had gone straight to bed and slept away the rest of the daylight hours.

Now the young woman found herself well rested and in need of some fresh, not eerie, air as she made her way out of The Citadel and into the open, taking a deep breath as she enjoyed the deceptive serenity of the night, though after over a season on the island she was well aware that nothing was ever as it seemed. She'd been so hard at work since the beginning of the summer season, both with her apprenticeship as well as her own personal projects and it was nice to finally have a break. She had made it out just in time to witness Syna's last rays of light disappear in the distance and still far from satisfied, continued to mill about for several bells until the sky had completely darkened and stars glimmered in the distance.

It was then that Kamilla noticed the soft light coming from just off the dirt road in the near distance, a small trail of smoke that was barely distinguishable against the night sky confirming her suspicions that it was a fire. Fearing the spread of another wildfire like the one that had raged across The Prairie only three weeks earlier, the young sorceress made her way towards it in an unrushed stride, planning on putting an end to the flames before they could spread since, from what she could see, it still seemed quite small.

As she moved towards the dim yet warm light of the flames, the lace trail of her purple dress danced following behind, her long mane of deep brown hair bouncing ever so slightly with each step and her knee high black leather boots crunching against the dirt beneath. Even after a season on The Undead Isle, Kamilla still maintained pride in her appearance even though most of the island's residents thought of it as pointless, it was something she had learnt to do for herself and would continue to do for that same reason. Still, the days spent working deep underground in her ghostly masters' lab had caused her to grow lazy when it came to things like applying make up, currently she had only painted her lips a deep red and ignored the rest of her face, perhaps after long enough Sahova's view would win over her own and she'd give up completely, but that was a long ways off.

As she stepped carefully off of the road and moved towards the nearing light, Kamilla was surprised to see that it was indeed a small fire and beside it sat a man, or rather, perched a man on a small rock. It had never occurred to her that someone may have made the fire on purpose, at least not with the intention of lounging by it. Most people on Sahova were well aware that it's wilderness was not safe during the day and even less so during the night and yet the man seemed to have no concerns at all. Perhaps he was a Warden or Warden Initiate like Keene? Those were her first thoughts but she quickly discarded them when she found no warden's vambrace on the man's arm.

Eventually, deciding to skip the analysis and simply ask the man, who she had now noticed was living,(even more reason to be within the safety of The Citadel) the young sorceress stepped into the warm light given off by the fire flashing a friendly smile before speaking, "You know, Sahova is pretty dangerous in general but even more so outside of The Citadel at night. May I ask what you're doing?" her tone remained friendly and curious as she spoke, the glow of the fire catching her features and illuminating them as her warm brown eyes examined how the flames did the same for the handsome man.

[Evhor]

Night fell, and Evhor's fire still burned, offering his soul a little bit of comfort and shelter from the nightmares of the night. Evhor feared no man, but the place he could bring him, for it could be full of the nightmares of his childhood. Now he found himself smiling at the memory of the hideous creatures that had infested his dreams years ago, but at that time they had been truly felt fears. For instance, he remembered Asshkrak, a spider-like creature big twice his head that would creep out of the shadows during the night and wait for Evhor to open his eyes, to give himself to curiosity for that very moment he needed to jump at him and devour his heart. He had been a very imaginative and scared child. But darkness dwelled in itself, so there was a universal remedy for all his fears, a flaming sword against Asshkrak and his fellows: light. Every good child nightmare feared light and was destroyed by it. Evhor speculated that long before the time of the mages came, the world was populated by a handful of people and their nightmares generated by their still rough, uncontrolled magical gifts. He had control of his, but in a land like that it... Not that he believed that monsters may manifest. He wasn't a child anymore, after all. But still... Lost in these thoughts and in the dance of the flames, he didn't notice the woman approaching him. He managed however not to look startled when she spoke to him. He frowned slightly, pondering. Her tone was light, but she was speaking of danger during the night, in a strange land and while they were alone. I'm not in Syliras anymore, he remembered himself, so he decided to give the woman the benefit of doubt and raised his gaze for a moment to meet hers, noticing the smile. Doesn't look like a fake one. "Thinking," he simply answered, then fell silent for a few moment. "You are...alive," he added after taking a longer look at the sorceress. "Still, you are in Sahova, outside the Citadel, at night...may I ask you what you're doing?" He offered with a quiet smile, his tone light-hearted. Ask he spoke, his gaze fell back to the flames, raising once more only to meet the woman's when he smiled. "Pardon me if I seem rude," he added with a sigh after a few moment. "I don't even know...but it doesn't matter." His gaze rose again. "Windwhisper, people call me," he introduced himself bowing his head a little.

[Kamilla]

Kamilla Circe Gordon

The man had not seemed to notice her approach until she had already taken her place within the glow of the flames, only increasing her concerns about his well being though she was well aware that she had no idea what he was capable of or what his reasons for being there were. When he finally did notice her presence he reacted calmly enough to make Kamilla discard her previous assumption that he hadn't heard her approach, assuming instead that he had simply not felt threatened enough to be on guard when he detected her presence. Either way, she was already quote curious about the unfamiliar face, a curiosity that only grew when he spoke.

His first answer seemed to be obvious and make no sense at the same time, on the one hand it was understandable for someone to gravitate towards fresh air to help their thoughts but on the other, setting up a tiny camp seemed far too over the top for just needing a place to think. She didn't pay the answer much mind though as she figured that the man could also have answered her question as literally as possible, responding with what he was doing at that exact moment that she had asked.

Kamilla continued to smile as the man voiced his realization of her physical state, seeming perhaps as interested in meeting a fellow Pulsar as she was but she remained silent, the friendly smile still lingering on her face, letting out a short but genuine laugh as he turned her words back on her. His words held none of the demand that the nuit's usually carried and he had clearly meant it in the same way she had, "Fair enough.", shrugging in acknowledgement to her own position outside of the safety of the Citadel at night, "But my reason is that I was investigating the source of the fire, and here you are." there was a hint of enjoyment in her voice, it wasn't often that she got to have such 'regular' conversations on the island.

Examining the man's features which she'd already determined to be handsome, she was unable to prevent her brow from rising slightly at his well mannered apology, another thing she'd never expect from the nuit. She opened her mouth and was about to tell him that he was not being rude in any way by asking her the same question that she had asked him but stopped before uttering a single word as he sighed. It seemed as if something was weighing heavily on his mind, especially if he had come all the way out her to 'think' and Kamilla thought that perhaps he wasn't adjusting well to Sahova's odd 'people' and customs.

For her, the foreign land had gotten to her only a few days after she'd arrived, Sahova was wildly different from anything she had ever experienced and it was quite a difficult adjustment to make for anyone who was used to the normal ways of the living. After fighting through the homesickness by using her desire to learn about all the new magics she was discovering as her driving force, of which there was plenty, she'd eventually come out the other side of the tunnel and although she still didn't feel truly at home on Sahova, she was far more comfortable than before.

Sensing that the man might need some help of his own to adjust to the new environment, Kamilla offered him yet another smile as she replied to Windwhisperer's name with her own. "Kamilla... How long have you been on the island?" she added ‎in an attempt to continue the conversation, she saw no ring on his finger or vambrace on his arm so her current guess was that he was a new arrival but she had no way of knowing for sure. As she spoke she heard a low buzzing in the distance but chose to ignore it, discarding the sound without a second thought, her attention remaining on Windwhiperer who still sat across the fire from her.

‎

[Evhor]

The woman did not seem to care much about his verbal numbness. He was actually feeling quite distracted from his own thoughts, and the hypnotic dance of the flames had given him an excuse to indulge in them, but now he knew he had to wake up from that dreamy state and focus on the woman, who had introduced herself as Kamilla. In fact, he very well knew that Sahova could be dangerous, very dangerous, and he feared that this Kamilla could be one of those dangers. Evhor looked up at her and smiled quietly again to test her reaction. "Fair enough," he said himself. "Did someone send you to investigate the fire? I can put it out," he asked in a suddenly anxious tone. He didn't want to break any rule while he was there in Sahova, nothing that could ruin his chances of appreticeship. He glanced at the fire as he answered to Kamilla's question. "Actually, I only got here yesterday," he said, then smiled. "Is it that obvious?" He wondered with an amused glint in his eyes. He really felt amused by his so evident youth and inexperience. If felt like he was in Syliras again, and a child struggling to understand his power and his role in the world. Then he grew up, and understood that his place he had to choose. After a few moments of deep silence, he asked, "How do you protect yourself out here? Are you a mage? One of the Wise of the island?" Evhor really hoped she could be someone who could help him understand what the nuit expected of him in the Judgement. The thought of that, in fact, kept flying around in his head, buzzing like a mosquito and twice as unbearable. He finally decided to stand up, for he was tired of watching the sorceress from down up, and he stretched his arms and legs with a sight of relief: they had been still for too long, and his muscles ached. He glanced at the woman, waiting for her response.