What can be lost but never found again?

childhood friends meet again in a dream

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Herein lies the realm of dreams, where dreamers who are scattered all over the world in the physical can come together in the mysterious world of dreams. Remember, unless one is a Dreamwalker, there is no control over dreams. Ever. Anything can happen, and by threading a dream, you are subject to whomever can walk dreams and the whims of Storytellers.

What can be lost but never found again?

Postby Madeira Dusk on February 4th, 2019, 12:09 am

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The woman had a terrible smile. Her bloodless lips pulled back, revealing teeth just a shade too white, a little too long, a little too sharp. Madeira took an unconscious step back and nearly collided with Leavou, but the woman did not approach further. Instead she began to circle the two children like a stalking predator as she told her story. Soon her shuffling footfalls, so quiet under the lapping of the waterfall, began to change. Its pattern turned high and young, its step heavier and more sure. Her hair darkened, her skin changed, her eyes swam with blues and purples. In moments it was no longer a Symenestra, a creature poisonous and cold, but one of the friendly, hearty Vantha.

"After the time when all men lost themselves, there was a very powerful mage by the name of Verlyna”, the woman spoke, her youthful voice falling into the patterns of a storyteller as she circled them. Her cane made a soft impact with the earth that mimicked the beating of a heart. Madeira reached for Leavou's hand, and as the girl turned with the woman she let her friend stand between them.

Did they know what hypnotism is? The woman's eyes fell first on the older girl.

"Yes'm", Leavou muttered with a nod, and was that a little trace of fear in her voice? The woman turned to Madeira, and asked again.

Do you know the power of words?

Yes, her sleeping mind cried. She knew the power of words and what it meant to be a hypnotist. She knew, and now she wondered if this woman did too. Did she know what we would become? What was in store for us?

"It's magic", the six-year-old child spoke monotonously, parroting her father and their lessons. "The bad kind. Nobody is suppose to have it, because it's an insult to the city and our core beliefs."

"Is that so?" the woman grinned again, but this grin had crooked human teeth and was almost sweet, though there was no such levity in her eyes. "Your god would disagree. Verlyna was his champion."

Liar, Madeira huffed internally. Ionu hated magic, her dad said so. All magic but Spiritism, of course. Spiritism was the exception to everything, he said.

"Verlyna was young and ambitious", the Vantha continued, her cane puncturing her words with its thump, thump, thump. "She tore through the minds of all she met, twisting their reality with her emerald eyes, bending their will to gain power. And she would have succeeded, too."

The woman had circled all the way around them, so her back was once again to the water. Madeira blinked as the sun glanced off the sparkling pool and directly into her eyes, and when she opened them again the woman had changed. Her dark hair was lightening from black to grey to a blonde so pale it was nearly white. Her eyes grew wider, her skin paler, and the kaleidoscope of her eyes steadied into a soft powdery blue. Across her hands and cheeks opalescent scales seemed to push out from beneath the skin.

"But she made a fatal mistake..."
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What can be lost but never found again?

Postby Lani Stranger on April 29th, 2019, 6:43 pm

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"But she made a fatal mistake..." The Symenestra, which had turned into a Vantha, and was now a Konti, spoke with a deep caution in her voice. It was the theatrics of a storyteller, but the young Leavou was just as caught up in the words and the gravity of the storyteller’s tone as she could have been. ”She had mastered her art, there was no mind that she could not dive into… not even her own. Or at least, that is what she thought.” The cane tapped rhythmically in the grass, not making a sound to interrupt the story, but dragging Leavou’s eyes towards it. Uncertain of the tone of the situation, she stepped back away from the pond, squeezing Madeira’s hand as she did so. Leavou didn’t like where the story was going.

”She attempted to hypnotize herself, to see how far she could push the magic.” Stupid.

”You are not a Konti.” Leavou interrupted, speaking in her mother’s tongue. She was desperately trying to ground the situation. They were staring at the pond now, growing lost in the illusory effects of the waterfall which sprouted from no in particular area in the air. Something stirred in her chest that felt similar to panic, although no such emotion could be possible. The world seemed to dim oddly around her, but Leavou was able to focus on the warm little palm encased in her own. Madeira is here.

”She had succeeded, of course. Verlyna was the top of her game, the only one better than her, was herself. She had succeeded, she had put her own mind into a paralytic trance that she could not even rouse herself from.” The Konti was stepping out of the way of the pond now, ignoring Leavou’s accusation, and continuing her story. In an effort to keep out of reach of the strange creature, Leavou sidestepped the woman, holding Madeira’s hand tight to her hip, and taking her with her. Leavou could not help her coal black gaze from following the aqua green water rippling towards them from the pond as they stepped closer. It dragged her eyes away from the woman, and she hardly noticed that the pale scaled woman was transforming again. Her skin took on a far darker tone, russet and rich with sun. Eyes darkening to the pure black that shared Lani’s and her iridescent white braid morphing into a thick curly black knot atop her head. Streaks of red painted themselves across the Chaktawe’s face. Again, everything about the woman had changed, but the cane remained the same, rhythmically tapping in the grass, silent, and waiting.

”Legend has it that it only took the call of one bird to tip her in. Her hypnotism had worked so well she was unable to move a single limb to save herself, sinking into the depths of this pond.” The Chaktawe stepped closer, but Lani didn’t notice, watching the depths as if she would see the long dead skeleton of this foolish woman. ”Some believe they can still see her today, if they look hard enough.” The storyteller’s voice was too close, but Leavou still was not paying attention. Strong tanned hands came down on Madeira’s shoulders as Leavou looked into the pond, searching for the truth of the tale. ”Boo!”

Leavou screamed.
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