Closed What Holds Us Down

[Gwin]

Spring 12, 515 AV
Knirin Gardens


With the arrival of Endrykas, Rivarians were flocking towards their metals and other goods. Akalak and many others were haggling and trading until the horse lords returned to their rolling grassy hills. The Akvatari, however, was one of the few wandering away from the noise. Knirin Gardens, adorned with first specks of vivid color, seemed emptier than usual and thus provided perfect refuge.

Whenever Gwin came here, instrument case slung over one shoulder, the moisture and light spray from the nearby waterfall worried her. Her search for a dry spot usually pushed her to the edge of the tier where she settled in the cool grass. Coincidentally, she was overlooking the lower tier all to the vast expanses of the Suvan Sea. Despite the slight chill in the air, it was perfect early spring weather. As her fingers set down and unpacked her violin, her thoughts were taking off.

A few days ago, something had changed. The curse that had been plaguing Riverfall had disappeared, but with that, her actions and decisions had come back to haunt the Akvatari. It was akin to a fever dream, only with her memory intact and clear as the blue sky. Their weight had been weighing her down ever since.

Part of her wanted to drown in music and forget everything, but the musician in her knew of the futility of such endeavors. Wherever she went to play her music, problems and worries would follow her. The violin only brought them out and forced her to acknowledge everything in music. Gwin knew she could neither forget nor run away.

When the instrument was tuned, she hesitated for a moment. Licking her lips, she looked over the azure ocean. The thin line where blue collided with blue caught her gaze. No matter how far she ran, it’d always be there. Waiting. Watching. Thus music welled up in her and the bow moved across string. The melody started slowly and monotone, but gained momentum step by step. Her rhythm was slightly delayed, manifesting the weight on her shoulders in grave sound. Closing her eyes, Gwin allowed the music to take over. As always, she completely lost herself. Deep down, however, the other Gwin was waiting with a smile, the one that had dictated the rhythm for the last two seasons. She hadn’t disappeared yet, and how could she? Repercussions of her decisions were still felt in the present.

Gravity Song :

[Alcor]

OocAwesome song Syna rose high in the sky, signifying that a new day had began. For Alcor this meant pain and emptiness, for the curse that was giving him much needed peace for the last two seasons was gone. The sun itself seemed to almost be syphoning his will to live now and every part of him seemed to scream in agony. He took to the skies on his newly formed wings in a futile attempt at escaping the weight of his own despair. The Ethaefal barely remembered where he was only moments before he transformed. His new vantage point, revealed the full extent of where he had found himself during his nightly wonderings. The mist clouds in the air that were wafting from the nearby waterfall made the colourful landscape of flowers below look like some kind of surreal dreamscape. Alcor had apparently made his way into a park but not the Statue garden of Lapis that he usually frequented. The ethaefal felt an odd weight coming from the bag strapped around his hip. After feeling the mystery objects shape through the fabric he was able to remember why he had come to this place. Alcor had purchased a sketch book and was planning to make an attempt at capturing something beautiful on paper. In his current state doing just about anything seemed impossible but as soon as it occurred to him that it might help with the Melancholy he was willing to try. He fluttered down to a vacant stone bench and rested his lavender tail on it’s cold surface. He pulled the leather bound sketch book and the case of charcoal sticks from his bag and readied himself to start. Although all Alcor could really do was stare at the empty parchment in distain. He was surrounded by natural beauty but felt devoid of any inspiration or motivation. His ears suddenly perked to the sound of a violin playing in the distance. The song that entered his ears was strikingly familiar to Alcor in some way but its origins in his ancient brain were fuzzy. He put his book and charcoal away and went to the air again to find the source of this haunting melody. The sound led him to Gwin the Akvatari women he had met in that garment store he had stubbled upon in winter. He hadn’t seen much of her since that day and he wondered if she even remembered him. Alcor none the less forced himself to approach the musician and ask her about her song. He hoped that if she told him where she had learned it, that it would jog his memory about his past lives. It was probably silly that he was so interested in other versions of himself that had long since died but Alcor was convinced that learning about them gave him a much needed sense of self. “Excuse me” Alcor politely interjected and then proceeded to patiently wait for her to lower her bow “I don’t mean to interrupt but I would like to know your song's origin” There was a hint of desperation in his voice as he made his request and his eyes seemed to be visably irritated by the salt of his tears.

[Gwin]

Towards the end, the melody rose to unexpected heights. The cheerful note rang loud and clear, singing of hope to everyone within earshot. While her bow worked, her fingers climbed up the wooden board to higher notes. Then they slid back down and the melody faded. It seemed to drown in the distant noise of the ocean and the waterfalls, not unheard and forgotten like a pebble, but with a brief flash like a diamond.

Gwin was still wondering what it meant when she looked up to a familiar face. There was no way she’d forget that unusual hair color. Her turquoise eyes, so similar to the Suvan Sea behind her, lit up at the sight of it. He was not only a fellow Akvatari, at least by day, but also possessed a similar wing color and patterning. Their kind didn’t connect easily, especially not over something as superficial as outward appearances, but it still felt nice to spend time with someone not too different from oneself. His presence reassured her in a way.

She gave a bit of a sad smile. “No worries, you didn’t interrupt. I was finished. The song, well, it’s something I came up with. A bit of improvisation, polished and refined until it sounds just so.” Curious, she tilted her head, blond locks falling over her bare shoulder. Her fingers were absentmindedly caressing the violin in her lap. “I’m sorry if it upset you. If you want, I could play something else. Something different.”

The tears in his eyes moved her in a way she didn’t entirely understand. Beautiful they were, especially in a face such as his, but they also shocked her. Just a little. Above that, he had the look of a wanderer, a seeker about him. Perhaps they could share a part of their road and help each other out. It was rare to meet a fellow Akvatari far from Abura, after all, even if they all seemed to gravitate towards Riverfall lately.

[Alcor]

“Well I’m glad I didn’t intrude..” Alcor replied listlessly, not really knowing how to proceed. He was a little disappointed that the music was improvised, not that it wasn’t impressive to conjure up music solely from from ones creativity but he wanted names, history or any bit of information that would help him solve the riddle in his mind. A though occurred to him that it may not be the song but the music or even the sight of an Akvatari playing an instrument that fuelled the nostalgia. It was very possible that he was ether a violin player or knew of when when he was alive. Although as soon as he tried visualizing his past self resting the instrument on his shoulder and sliding the bow along the strings, it seemed farfetched. Alcor had a sudden flash of his tumbling and bone thin hands trying to pick up a simple paint brush and finding it painfully difficult, he was clearly unwell when he was alive. “Would you please play another song?” Alcor suddenly asked out of nowhere, too lost in thoughts to realize that she had already offered to play him another song. “I feel my memories of my past self coming back as you play but I still don’t get the connection…. I must have known some one who played the violin when I was alive” He looked mournfully at his charcoal covered hands before mumbling “I know I never played an instrument..” He didn’t say anything else before hovering over to a sitting position near her and started talking out his drawing supplies again. “I’ll just be over here sketching... I'd like to draw inspiration from your music if thats okay” He called back once he was properly situated. As he brought his charcoal to the page and started to create lines he started to feel himself stabilize emotionally. It was as if the constant void that he felt in his soul during the day had been corked, not with happiness but maybe something closer to contentment or acceptance. “it’s strange how something like music or just scribbling lines on a page can make the pain more bearable.” As the Musician started to play her song again, Alcor closed his tear stained eyes and let her music guide his charcoal lines. His drawing was sure to look like a big ugly mess but it was more than worth it, just for the feeling it gave him. The song gave the Ethaefal nostalgia while the act of drawing made him feel like he was fulfilling a desire he didn’t remember ever having. It was a surreal sensation but he didn’t want it to end. “My name was Lewnul..” Alcor eyes opened wide at the realization, it was a name given to him because he was always “unwell” even as a small child. It was depressing for Alcor to think that the only thing that stranded out about his old self was being sick, he must have had a terrible life as an Akvatari. Alcor hoped that all his lives weren’t as sad as the one he borrowed the face of during the day, but he had a suspicion that this was the case.

[Gwin]

As he gathered words to speak to her, Gwin observed him with mild curiosity and a hint of confusion. There was the melancholy, trademark of their people, but he seemed troubled and lost beyond that. Gwin had tasted the homeless drifting existence of the Akvatari, nomadic even though they had Abura, but this one appeared out of the water in a more personal and acute way. Her heart went out to him just like her music did.

When he spoke of his past self, she remembered. He wasn’t Akvatari, just wore the guise of someone he’d been once. As if time had stopped or even jumped backwards. She couldn’t imagine how it must affect him, although she supposed it was the reason for his great confusion. It cast an air of fragility over his brightly colored hair and butterfly wings.

Gwin didn’t pry further in order not to hurt that fragile side before her turquoise eyes. He was quite possibly searching for something less tangible, more short-lived even than music. She couldn’t guess what it meant and how he felt, so she wouldn’t dare.

Before the Akvatari of the past distanced himself, she noted the charcoal stains on his fingers. A visual artist then. Perhaps he needed the solid feel of paper and paint beneath his fingertips. The corner of her mouth quirked upwards just a bit, probably not enough for him to notice. “You’ll want to move a little to the right to avoid spray from the waterfall. It’s hard to anticipate, but that spot should be safe.”

Pondering, she watched him settle and unpack supplies. Some she could name, others not so much. Gwin sketched occasionally, but she still was a musician first and foremost. Over years, the music in her ear had become essential to her, like water in a more abstract sense. “Is it? I think it’s only natural. If we bottled it all up inside us, we’d destroy ourselves before long. Sometimes I’m surprised we function as well as we do.”

He’d brought some space between them, so Gwin gave up on raising her voice. Instead she lifted the violin, letting her fingers take over the strings. When she played, it was hard to tell where the ideas and melodies came from, but Gwin was sure she didn’t have the least bit control over them. She acted as a vessel and that was enough. Since her listener had expressed interest in their heritage, however, she dug up a song she’d learned from her mother. It was a song every Akvatari had known for a century or more, based on a simple tune every child could play or hum.

His name dropped into her music like a stone and she only understood it two beats later. Lewnul. Unwell. He hadn’t been strong enough to play an instrument? Then she’d play for him, the small part of her that wasn’t lost in music thought.

Song :

[Alcor]

“Natural?” The Ethaefal frowned in confusion to the Musicians statement. He let her words stir in his head for a brief moment and analyzed their meaning. Alcor had only thought of the searing melancholy as an unnatural burden that he needed to free himself from. Although it would seem that he was going about it all wrong, or at least this women seemed to think so. He just couldn’t acknowledge that the best way to deal with this pain was to just accept it and let it win. This train of thought was stating to take Alcor down a dark path in his mind but the southing but sad melody of Qwin’s violin provided light enough for him to find his way out. He contently went back to his paper and tried not to think about it. The lines Alcor created became drastically better as he listened to the violinist play. The melody guided his hand into making airy swirls and close knit squiggles with the vibrato. As he continued to let the lines intersect and mingle into a spiralling cluster of visual melody, a spark of memory stuck him. Alcor was certain with out a doubt that he knew this song, or more accurately Lewnul knew this song. He remembered laying in a bed with a young women by his bedside who was playing the very same melody, this women even looked remarkably similar to the performer in front of him. Lifting his head from his drawing, the Ethaefal shouted “I know this song!” he looked at the musician intensely with the merger start of a smile. “An Akvatari that looked remarkably similar to you played this song to me, I’m not sure when but she was young.” his demeanour was almost like a child who had just received an unexpected gift as he explained the phenomenon to his new acquaintance. This revelation of his wasn’t really very ground breaking but it was still a found memory, however small it was it was to be cherished. “Sorry for that out burst, but until now I haven’t remembered anything about my old life. I’ve been in a complete haze until I started spending even a bit of time with you, I guess you just remind me so much of someone from Lewnul’s child hood. Maybe I knew a relative of yours, like your great grand mother or maybe an aunt" Alcor let out a sigh and turned back to his drawing. "Never mind that’s just silly.”

[Gwin]

Gwin offered a sad smile, trying to soothe his confusion. “Aye, natural. You’re not alone with it too.” Still, she didn’t wish to intrude or interrupt his train of thought. In the end, these things had to be battled out in the mind, not with the help of others. As an Akvatari, she experienced and felt enough to know as much with some certainty.

While she played, she completely lost herself in the music. Afterwards, however, Gwin couldn’t help but steal glances at the strange Akvatari and wonder what he was drawing. Would it be a portrait of her? A still life of the park? Abstract swirls and shades? She could take an educated guess at the mood, but had no idea what kind of visual artist he was regarding motives and technique. Of course, Gwin herself wouldn’t go so far as to call herself an expert. She merely dabbled in sketching when the music didn’t flow – an extremely rare occurrence.

When he shouted out, she lowered her instrument slowly. As far as Gwin understood, the Ethaefal had once been an Akvatari and, for some reason, had adopted the body of his former life during the daylight bells. Apparently he remembered bits and pieces of said former life and certain sensations triggered buried memories. Gwin couldn’t deny that she was curious about what kind of person he had been and how the past connected to his present self. With vibrant green eyes she blinked at Lewnul. “That’s interesting.”

His excitement was contagious, sort of sweet too, although it was spiced with faint regret. No matter what they said or did to remember it, the past was inevitably and certainly gone. They couldn’t relive that moment, but at least they could figure out the details. “No, I think it makes sense... You know, my mother used to tell me stories about Nysel, the God of Dreams. According to her, our dreams are connected to our past lives in some way. Like a perfect memory, an ancient record of every life you once lived. In your dreams, you sometimes remember things your waking self has forgotten. It’s really amazing.”

Plucking a few strings, she tried to get back to the point. “If she looked like me, it could’ve been my mother, Ledosioum. She’s a brilliant musician and composer. The piece I just played, I learned it from her. Do you think… that you knew her?” Humming to herself, she wondered if Ledosioum remembered Lewnul, the Akvatari who had been too sick to play an instrument.

[Konrad Venger]

Hey, Alcor and Gwin! Once you get back and deduct your Seasonal Expenses (looks like it's more than a couple for you guys), I'll grade this up, no problem. PM me when you get back!