Solo Home Is Where The Heart Is

Along with the traders from Wind Reach Neive arrives in Lhavit, only to find herself in love with the city. Should she stay? Or should she go?

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The Diamond of Kalea is located on Kalea's extreme west coast and called as such because its completely made of a crystalline substance called Skyglass. Home of the Alvina of the Stars, cultural mecca of knowledge seekers, and rife with Ethaefal, this remote city shimmers with its own unique light.

Home Is Where The Heart Is

Postby Neive on February 6th, 2016, 3:16 pm

Image
 
7th Winter 515av

Early Morning
Springwater Square,
Shinyama Peak

 
  As Syna's frosty morning shine broke above the top peaks of the Kalea Mountains, Neive's breath was stolen in awe. Her gaze finally settled upon the glittering beauty that was Lhavit. Riding as passenger aback the glorious Wind Eagle, Neive struggled to maintain her grip around the rider’s waist, whilst keeping her hat atop her head. The gusts of wind whipped her long, braided hair in a fluttering mess of wild fire behind her.
  As the eagles circled around the peaks of the mountains, gradually descending upon the celestial city, Neive’s watery gaze began to make out a few more details. Gardens aplenty, lush green and startling against the stone works of the buildings and plateaus. Architecture like she had never seen before. The city radiated imagination and artistic flare. Nothing seemed to have been constructed with anything less than the word stunning in mind – and stunned she was.
  Although this was Neive’s first venture away from her home of Wind Reach, she couldn't think of there being any other city as enchanting as Lhavit. The instant she laid her eyes upon the city, her heart felt at home, her stomach fluttered. However as she began to realise this, her gut dropped and she felt ill. She couldn't let herself fall in love with a city she was never to see again.
  Her cerulean gaze shifted to the Wind Eagle soaring the winds on her left. Behind the Endal rider, sat the Avora Artisan she was accompanying. She was here for only a day and she was only here to help hawk the Avora's bountiful glass wares. Neive found herself all but deflated as her whimsical dreams dispersed for the harshness of reality.
  Then defensiveness kicked in. She wouldn't have been able to survive here anyway. She had little money, no knowledge of the culture and she had no experience living on her own. Perhaps it was best to keep her fanciful mind on the tasks ahead.

  Gyrating ever closer to the city molded from the mountains, Neive found herself holding her breath and grasping tighter than ever to the rider in front. As the Wind Eagles banked, Neive felt the force of the wind buffet her from every which way. Her stomach fluttering with the swift movements of the grand beast beneath her, her heart hammering breathlessly in her chest. It was thrilling and slightly intimidating all at the same time. She could see why the Endal’s loved to fly atop their Eagles so much.
  Finally coming to land, Neive found herself jittery with the adrenaline coursing through her body. She never felt so alive. Sadly, it was a feeling to be short-lived. Slipping from the Wind Eagle's back, her legs touched ground wobbly beneath her. As Neive finally found sturdy footing, she was instantly set to work, unloading the commodities brought for trade. The Avora and a few of the lead Endals went to greet the welcoming Lhavit party, no doubt to discuss the details of their trade and the welfare of the Wind Eagles while in the city.
  Neive gave the enormous bird that had carried her all this way a soft scratch and whispered kind words of gratitude for the exhilarating ride. At least she had the fly back to look forward to. That alone would be all the comfort she would have for saying goodbye to the mystical city her heart already ached for.

 
Last edited by Neive on February 16th, 2016, 1:44 pm, edited 2 times in total.
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Home Is Where The Heart Is

Postby Neive on February 8th, 2016, 7:37 pm

 
 
  As a rider carefully passed each bulky, wooden crate down to her, Neive hastily inspected each of the box's contents. Flying on the back of a Wind Eagle, surfing the blustery winds was a rough journey. Neive just wanted to make sure none of the fragile goods had cracked, chipped or otherwise been damaged during transit.
  Apart from the odd one or two, most of the items had survived the trip unscathed. Bracing her back, Neive carefully, gently hoisted a crate of vases comfortably into her arms. The glasses all clinking together made her heart skip. The Avora would be furious if she was the one to break anything. He had invited her to come with him as a kindness and it was not one she wanted him to rebuke.
  As the artisan returned from the talks with the local party, he directed Neive as to where she was to take the supplies. He pointed on down a long, winding, rocky path that lead to a lower plateau. Beyond the sharp corner of the route, Neive could not see the market Square that he spoke of, but he assured her it was there. With that the Wind Reach party each began the arduous journey of traipsing the crates to the marketplace.
  Accustomed to heights and living within mountainous territory Neive traversed the rugged trail with relative ease. Nevertheless the bite of winter against her milky skin was a reminder to beware of the ice and frost gathered at the edges of the track. Neive’s sharp gaze swiveling from left to right, ever watchful for the slick traps as she tentatively placed each foot in front of the other.
  With every step the wares in her arms chinked and chimed. As she carried the heavy crate in her arms, Neive found that her muscles swiftly began to ache. Without realising it, she had kept her whole upper body tense and stiff. It had been in an unconscious attempt to keep the wooden crate as steady and un-moving as possible. As a result her shoulders felt like they were ready to pop and her elbows became frozen in place.
  Though, whether it was really from remaining tense for so long that her arms felt frozen or if it was from the nipping chill, eating its way through her thick Katinu - she honestly couldn’t tell. All she knew was, her teeth were nattering inside her skull.
  As the Wind Reach party rounded a sharp corner in the path the Springwater Square came into full view in all its glory. Neive faltered as her deep gaze settled upon the native marketplace. Her mouth fell ajar, her eyes expanded in wonder as they attempted to soak everything in. Never had she seen anything quite like it!
  An opulently carved expanse of azure skyglass spanned the distance. Entertainers of every sort from singers, to dancers, to fire breathers dotted the large square. Vendor stalls in abundance, peddled lavish merchandises Neive had never even conceived of. Her breath was truly taken at the copious and bustling sights of commerce laid out before her. Though, as her feet staggered her ever closer to the wondrous sight, her heart skipped several beats and her eyes popped as they settled upon the centerpiece of the Springwater Square.
  A fountain, with its waters spewing high above intricately engraved, sapphire skyglass, was the momentous tribute placed within the center of the marketplace. Where the local bazaar got its name, Neive surmised. The myriad jets of fresh water gushed from the mouths of figures, she could only guess were extremely important to the people of Lhavit. Gods perhaps? Past leaders or maybe the founders of the celestial city? She couldn’t say, but their depiction was one of honour, grace, purity. Values which were very near to the young Inarta’s heart.
  Completely enthralled with the spectacle, the heavy, wooden crate of fragile glass vases suddenly slipped from her grasp. Clumsily clutching after it, she caught it barely in time, the cut-glass goods violently clashed and crashed against one another. Hugging the contents protectively, tightly to her chest, Neive’s cheeks beamed a deep, rosy red. She shied her face beneath the broad rim of her hat and hurriedly made to catch up to her party – having fallen behind, awe inspired with the sights around her.


 
Last edited by Neive on February 22nd, 2016, 11:59 pm, edited 2 times in total.
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Home Is Where The Heart Is

Postby Neive on February 16th, 2016, 1:58 pm

 
 
  Down on the lower plateau of the market square, the flawless skyglass became a glistening display as a misty, chilling drizzle descended upon the streets of the Shinyama Peak.
  Cutting their way through a throng of excited Lhavitians, the Wind Reach party found a small assembly of empty, stilted stalls that had been earmarked for their arrival by city officials. It was here the individual Inarta artisans dispersed from one another.
  Although the stalls were neighbored closely, the Avora were out to trade their own unique and personal commodities. Neive was accompanying the artisan dealing in Wind Reach’s distinguishable glass working craft.
  With her fingers numb and stiff from the arctic winter air, she carefully began to unload the differing variations of vases, jars and trinkets onto the wooden platform of their stand. An imaginative soul, she wanted to create a display that would catch the eye at a simple glance and so set her capricious mind free to the task.
  All the stock ranged from transparent glass, to frosted, to coloured. It was an array of artistic conceptions, made with great care and finesse. Of course none by the hands of the young Inarta. A novice still, her work was not yet up to the standards for high trade.
  Neive grouped the coloured and non-coloured glasses together in rows, with the odd bubbled pieces at the centers. Placing the tallest item they had in the epicenter of the display at the back, she created a symmetrical exhibition that spanned outward.
  A perfectionist, Neive stood in front of the stall, squinting at her arrangement of the merchandise. Tall products, such as vases at the back, leveling to the smallest at the front, such as the jewelry and pins. Something wasn’t quite sitting right though. Something was niggling at her.
  The young Inarta’s cerulean gaze studied the wares carefully, a puzzled pout pursing her lips. She looked at it from left to right, right to left. Suddenly it dawned on her. A smile broke through the pucker as she leaned forward and exchanged the places of two tall urns at the back. One was slightly taller than the other and looked odd at the end.

  There, now it was perfect and they were ready to begin the day’s sales.

 
Last edited by Neive on February 23rd, 2016, 12:03 am, edited 3 times in total.
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Home Is Where The Heart Is

Postby Neive on February 16th, 2016, 3:07 pm

 
 
  Thankful to take a back seat in the peddling of their merchandise, Neive spent the better part of the morning simply attending to her Avora’s needs. Replenishing the wares sold on the table with fresh trinkets, passing him the change needed for the customers in a foreign currency Neive had never seen before.
  The strange gems, expertly crafted were an oddity that seemed to be the main aspect of trade here. Monetary agreements in exchange for goods, instead of material barter. An aspect of the Lhavitian culture that only intrigued the young Inarta further.
  By the time it came to feast on their mid-morning meal, Neive had begun to realise just how bad her common really was. She could comprehend more than she could speak. It only added to the ill feeling in her gut that told her she could never survive here. If she couldn’t speak to or understand the people, it would be near impossible to live. She would be isolated, alone.
  With half the day gone, Neive knew her time in Lhavit was limited. She knew there was a great chance she would never see the mystifying city again. The whole morning the young Inarta could barely train her eyes away from the grand, water sculpture based in the epicenter of the marketplace. She yearned to know who those figures were, why they were depicted so.
  Sat on the floor of skyglass next to the stall, Neive chewed absently on a piece of salted, dried meat, while her ever reverential gaze studied the city square around her. The balanced rations she brought with her were designed to keep for long periods of travel and were not particularly tasty. Nor were they so horrendous that it was a displeasure to chew for at least some flavour.
  No she couldn’t stick it. She couldn’t leave the city with nothing but her memory of the place. She knew that in a few years the majesty of everything she had seen here would soon diminish in her mind and eventually she would not remember anything at all. She had to try to capture at least a portion of the grandeur of the Lhavitian architecture all around her.
  Stuffing the rest of her dried meat into her mouth, her cheeks puffing out like a chipmunks’, Neive rummaged around in her overfilled backpack. Bringing forth her old, tattered looking drawing book and her bound collection of charcoal sticks, the young Inarta scrambled to her feet exultantly.
  She raced off into the mass of Lhavitian people, who were slowly dwindling away, no doubt to feast themselves. Facing the opulent fountain of Springwater Square dead on, Neive carefully began to pace backwards until she had the view of the water feature she desired.
  Without a care of other’s opinions, the young Inarta plonked herself on her rump, folding her legs in under herself. Flipping open her drawing book to a blank page, she dragged one charcoal stick from her bundle, stuffing the rest into the large pocket of her sheepskin Katinu.


 
Last edited by Neive on February 16th, 2016, 4:20 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Home Is Where The Heart Is

Postby Neive on February 16th, 2016, 4:19 pm

 
 
  When drawing something so big, full of so much detail, Neive struggled to find a point in which to start. Glancing from the fountain, studying its features to the blank, white page of her book, now speckled with the drizzling mist, she decided to start from the bottom.
  As she placed one end of her charcoal stick to the bottom of the page, she carefully drew from left to right, a curving line. As she reached halfway, suddenly her stick snapped! The tip of the charcoal stick tumbled over the edge of her book and rolled away. Crumbles of the clumpy drawing material lay powdered all over her page.
  Cursing, the young Inarta cautiously tried to brush the debris off her bright, snowy page. However as she did so, it created a black looking smudge right at the edge. Darn this charcoal shyke. It was so fragile and the young Inarta too rough. She would have to trace lightly, lest she ruin her page even further. Her drawing book was one of value and she didn’t like to waste the pages, so despite the ugly dark smear, she continued to mirror the base outline of the fountain.
  Like a hollow shadow, she now had the general shape of the fountain on her page, but now was the difficult part. Proportions were something the young Inarta struggled with greatly, along with human expression. Both of which she would face as she attempted to capture the water feature. Delving right in, Neive began to draw the basic lines of the details within.
  Beginning at the top she started with the esteemed figures. Leaving the faces until last, she lightly, carefully ruled the charcoal in soft strokes until she had the rough images of their hands, clothes, feet and hair. Several times the young Inarta drew a line which did not conform or go where she wanted, forced to attempt to erase said line from her page. In no time at all her once snowy white piece of paper, was now totally covered in blemishes of grey.
  Charcoal was certainly a messy instrument. Pausing in her work, Neive glanced at her fingers, which were silken and ebony. With the dark stains obscuring the work she had done, Neive decided to go over her outlines to make them more prominent and noticeable.
  Maybe next time she should just cover her whole page in a light layer of charcoal, before beginning her image. That way when she would be forced to erase an incorrect line, it would simply blend into the already greyish background. A notion, she would definitely have to remember for next time.
  As the charcoal easily smudged, the young Inarta decided to use it to her advantage to create the shadows the fountain cast upon the skyglass in real time, upon her page. With her index finger she cautiously smeared her prominent lines a little outwards.
  The young Inarta snorted to herself, who knew she would intentionally smudge her own work, but it was working. Her drawing began to take on a solid look, a real life look. Or at least, sort of life like. Her drawing certainly still appeared as though a child had drawn it, but the young Inarta was pleased with her work.


 
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Home Is Where The Heart Is

Postby Neive on February 16th, 2016, 5:30 pm

 
 
  As she continued to perfect her drawing, smudging, going over her outlines, Neive felt as though eyes were watching her. An unsettling and unnerving feeling swept through her spine in a shiver and it wasn’t the chilly breeze. A swift glance around her found an elderly woman haunched over Neive’s shoulder, admiring her attempt to capture Springwater’s pride and joy.
  Upon noticing Neive’s cerulean gaze settling on her, the elderly woman jumped. “Oh sorry dear. Didn’t mean to pry.” She gave a warm smile as she gestured casually to the young Inarta’s drawing, “It’s not a bad likeness, though, could use work.”
  Her common not all that good, Neive took a moment to translate the woman’s words in her mind. She understood the woman’s critique. Her drawing of the fountain was nothing to its real life beauty. The woman mistook Neive’s momentary silence for offence and quickly pointed to the animal horns of the Okomo the young Inarta was shading. “Oh but those are perfectly sculpted, Caiyha would be proud.”
  Neive’s brow furrowed in confusion, “Sorry. Who is.. Cai.. Caiyyya?” She didn’t even know if she pronounced the name right. The word in common was tricky in her mouth and she had no idea if there was a paired word for it in Nari.
  The woman almost seemed to recoil in shock at the question. Neive suddenly feared she had said something wrong, did she offend the woman? “Sorry! Common, small, no good.” The young Inarta swiftly explained in the hopes of rectifying whatever mistake she had made.
  The woman placed a hand on her chest as she smiled dolefully down at the young Inarta, “Oh, that is alright child. Cai-y-ha. She is a revered Goddess here in Lhavit. She is the one who bestowed upon us the gift of the Okomo.” Neive repeated the pronunciation of the name in her mind over and over, familiarizing herself with the common name.
  Translating the woman’s words, Neive understood the common gist of Goddess and gift, the rest of the sentence was fuzzy in its meaning. “O-ko..mo?” Neive shook her head with a slight shrug of her shoulders, using body language as a way to convey her confusion.
  Bending over Neive’s shoulder the woman pointed with a gnarled and distorted finger at the odd animal she had been drawing. Lifting her finger in the eye line of the young Inarta the woman then pointed to the animal in question, majestically portrayed in the skyglass fountain before them. “Yes, Okomo. They are sacred and very special to us. Caiyha, the Goddess of Flora and Fauna, created the Okomo to help us.”
  Okomo, help, special. Neive pieced together the words she knew into a sentence in her mind that would make sense. So this Goddess, Caiyha must have made these animals, the Okomo, to help the people of Lhavit. Caiyha must be very generous and kind to help the Lhavitians. She sounded nice. “Ahh,” Neive smiled and nodded that she understood. Rather, she understood the gist of what the woman was saying at least. The young Inarta had no idea what the common of flora or fauna meant.
  The woman looked like she was about to say more, when suddenly the Inarta artisan called to Neive from their wooden stall of glass wares just a short distance away. Jumping to her feet in a rush, the young Inarta slammed her drawing book shut and slipped it carefully into the large pocket of her Katinu.
  “Thank you,” Neive was genuine in her thanks for the conversation with the woman and the old Lhavitian responded in kind, before Neive raced off towards her employer. Their mid-morning break must be over and it looked like it was back to work for the aspiring young Inarta.


 
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Home Is Where The Heart Is

Postby Neive on February 19th, 2016, 3:49 pm

 
 
  As evening drew ever closer, the misty drizzle took on momentum and now showered with confidence upon the sparkling city of Lhavit. People fled for cover, no doubt returning home for warmth and comfort. The prospect for trade now dwindling with the slowly failing light of Syna, Neive and her fellow Avora companion raced to pack up what little merchandise they had left.
  With the weather taking a nasty turn, an Endal rider came sprinting towards them across the glistening skyglass expanse of the market square. "We should move out with haste. The winds are getting dangerous and pretty soon it will be near impossible to fly back to Wind Reach at all.”
  Neive's heart hammered fearfully in her chest, hounding home the realisation of just how badly she wished to return to the comfort of her home and her family. Despite her love for all the celestial city had shown her was possible; the flourish of creation if one's soul was set free. Alas, her mother and sisters were her home and they lay back at Wind Reach, with the rest of her Kin.
  It startled her that she feared leaving her family and the security of her own people so much. She loved exploration, seeing new things. Yet when faced with the harsh realities of real adventure, Neive found herself but a frightened child.
  Gulping down her fears, burying them to the bottom of the pit in her stomach, Neive brought her ebony, damask scarf up around her face, covering her nose and mouth. With the shower of rain, came the sting of the icy winter upon her exposed skin as she struggled lifting a full crate of over stock not sold this day into her arms.
  With alacrity, the collection of Inarta traders and artisans packed up their wares and swiftly started away from Springwater Square and back up the rocky, steep trail. As they gained altitude, Neive felt the blustery winds whip from every direction. The rain was no downpour, but the Endal rider was right, it would be risky enough flying in this tempest.
  As Neive’s assigned rider hopped gracefully onto the back of his large bird, the young Inarta grunted as she used all her remaining strength to heave up a wooden crate of goods above her head for him to grasp.
  As the weight of the box was lifted from her, suddenly a great flurry of wind gusted her from the side. Neive stumbled, her arms flailing as she attempted to regain her feet. In the process, her broad brimmed hat seemed to glide effortlessly from its perch upon her head and tumbled back down the rocky route.
  Neive cried out distraughtly as her hands leapt to her now bare mane of fire. Twirling around in circles, her cerulean gaze searched desperately for her hat. The others, none-the-wiser, continued preparations to depart.
  Through the thick mist of rain the young Inarta finally caught sight of her prized possession as it flew down the rugged, mountain trail, back towards the twinkling lights of Lhavit.

 
Last edited by Neive on February 23rd, 2016, 12:18 am, edited 2 times in total.
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Home Is Where The Heart Is

Postby Neive on February 19th, 2016, 3:49 pm

 
 
  As she gave chase, Neive felt her arm jolt and she found herself whirling around to face the Avora artisan who was her mentor. “Where are you going? We have to leave now!”
  Neive fought to break free from the man’s grasp, but his hold was as tight as a vice upon her elbow, “I lost my hat! I have to find it!”
  The man tsked irritably, his once concerned features now dark with anger, “Don’t be daft girl, you can get another one when we reach Wind Reach. Now stop this nonsense and let’s go, they’re waiting!”
  He didn’t understand. Distressed, Neive glanced back down the trail, tears welling up in her eyes, though not visible through the wet droplets of rain speckling her porcelain cheeks. With a hard and unsuspecting yank the young Inarta pulled herself free, her voice came clear, calm almost, despite the turmoil and clash of emotions within, “It’s important to me. It was my father's. It’s the only thing I have left of him.”
  As comprehension swept across the Avora’s face, so too did a pang of guilt. “We can’t wait for you. It could take you bells to find it, by then, the winds could become ferocious and none of us would be able to return home until spring! You go after it, you’re on your own.”
  That sentence jarred Neive to her core. She faltered. Torn between being stranded in Lhavit until spring, or finding the one possession bestowed upon her by her late father. How was she to make such a momentous decision? In so little time? Her heart ached and her mind screamed. Everything was so noisy! Her chest, rising and falling raggedly, Neive silenced her soul and made a split second decision, “I have to. It’s ok. I’ll be ok.”
  The Avora searched the young Inarta’s fearful gaze a moment, appraising if she had made her decision with clarity and finality. All the while Neive felt as though she would be sick with the pit of doubt churning in her stomach.
  With a defeated sigh the Avora smiled warmly as he gripped Neive’s shoulders, “Alright. As soon as you find that damn thing, you find the Cosmos Center ok? There they will help you find lodging and a job. Keep your wits about you girl. Keep your money safe and stay cautious of strangers, don’t be going all foolhardy and making friends with the riffraff of the streets.”
  Her chin trembling as she bit her lower lip to keep a sob from exploding from within, Neive nodded her understanding, “I will. I’ll make my way home in the spring then. Would you…could you tell my family? Tell them why I had to stay and that I’ll be alright?”
  With a firm nod of his head, the Avora suddenly drew Neive in for a hug. It was warm and filled with compassion and it was comforting. It felt like a goodbye, though as they said it was only a season. As the Inarta artisan turned from the hug and raced off towards the Wind Eagles, Neive felt the sudden finality of being alone for the first time in her life hit home.
  As she watched the Eagles take flight, the gusts of their flapping wings beating her back a few steps, Neive watched her Kin return home without her.

She was alone.

  Sucking in a deep, steadying breath, the young Inarta wiped her tears on the baggy sleeve of her Katinu, sniffing to control the turmoil of emotions swirling inside. Shuffling her backpack to a more comfortable position on her shoulders, Neive finally tore her gaze away from the blurry dots of the Wind Eagles in flight.
  As the rain continued to pitter-patter on the mountain range of Kalea, the young Inarta turned her mind to the reason she had to stay. Urgency took ahold and she raced back down the rocky trail, all the while squinting down the chasm to her left, making sure her hat hadn’t blown off the edge of the mountain top.
  Out of all her sisters, her father had entrusted his “good-luck” charm to her. She couldn’t lose it. She had to find it! It was all she had left of him.


End.

PossessionsHeadwear, broad-brim hat x1 Temporarily Lost

 
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Home Is Where The Heart Is

Postby Bee on March 12th, 2016, 11:26 pm

Image
Pollinating Your Grades!

Nieve

Skills
    Bodybuilding- 1xp
    Organization- 1 xp
    Drawing- 3xp
Lores
    Lore: Seeing Lhavit from a Wind Eagle's back
    Lore: Charcoal: Cover the paper in grey first
    Lore: Okomo: Gifted by Caiyha
    Lore: Okomo: Special and helpful
    Lore: Cosmos Center: Job and Lodgings
Rewards/Consequences
    Lost her hat!
Notes :
Cute thread, I enjoyed it. Neive is a very soft Inarta, I like her. I hope to see more of her. Welcome to the city! Though, seems like her hand was kind of forced! You never know, you might enjoy it! |:)


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