[Lyceum] Holy Smoke! (Nashira)

[Syllke Skyglow]

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry that you have lost someone you seemed to have cared for very deeply.” Syllke’s voice was sincere, though it trembled a bit, with the sword point between his eyes practically. “And I apologize again, for prying.” It seemed with death so near, a calm had descended that made his words flow just a bit more readily. Syllke had no idea, still, that this night time form of the beautiful Ethaefal was Myrian, and that they were truly cannibalistic. But the tone of her voice was in such deadly earnest that he did not doubt for a moment that she was serious about her threats. Slowly, he reached up one hand and gently pushed the blade from his face. He rose as slowly, saying, “You do not need to kill a man for merely being truthful. I heard the longing in your voice, and I was curious, so I asked, envious of anyone who could spark that feeling in such a woman as yourself. I’ve apologized, and I can’t rewind time. So there it must remain. I know little of the gods, besides Morwen, but I doubt Syna is the type to need or want blood sacrifices – not of innocent men. And you might wish to dine on me but I assure you, I have no desire to be anyone’s dinner. I wasn’t aware that there were humans who ate others of their kind. I guess I have learned several valuable lessons tonight.” He inclined his head, as if in token of her instruction. “Since you first came into the Lyceum earlier today, I have felt . . . addled, in your presence. If my admiration has made me into a fool – a dead fool perhaps – there’s not much I can do about that now. But I will take myself away now, and if you choose to run your sword through my back – or sever my head from my shoulders – do so with that knowledge that you have killed an unarmed man who has done you no harm, other than to be too ready to succumb to your charms.” With a deep breath, and a hammering in his chest, Syllke turned and began to walk away.

[Nashira]

Nashira growled, and then sheathed her sword. It sank into its scabbard as readily as a tired farmer would sink into his bed after a long, hard day at work. "That would be dishonorable, and not at all pleasurable... stabbing a man in the back," the woman growled. "The only good part in killing, other than the blood and the feast that follows, is watching the look upon a man's face as he crumbles to the ground. As he feels the greatest amount of pain he will ever experience, before he dies. As he realizes, finally, that his time has come. That he is about to meet with Dira." Nashira paused for a moment, before taking a few steps closer to the retreating Vantha, and extending her right hand to him. Her fingers stretched out towards him, in the hopes that they would brush lightly against his shoulder, and cause him to halt, or at the very least, slow down. "Come Syllke, you said you wished to learn of the stars, and the many other things which lurk in the sky above," Shira whispered. "The least I can do then, despite your unsettling, yet highly anticipated confession, is teach you some of what I know, given the amount of time we can have left here, in this place, together." Nashira paused, as she pulled her hand back to her side, finding it somewhat uncomfortable whenever it rested anywhere near his flesh. "Just be aware," Nashira began, her tone taking on an edge of ice, "that if you mention Caleb again, I will run you through with his sword. Thrust it through your scrawny back, whether or not you have turned to face me. Is that absolutely clear?" Nashira asked, as her eyes sparkled alongside Zintila's silver stars. "Or do I have to repeat myself?" Shira added, as she lay in wait, wondering if ever, Syllke would think it best to reply. Wondering, if he would ever do so. Wondering if he would stay with her to finish his lesson, or simply walk away, now that she had both threatened him, and spared his life, all in the same night. She couldn't say that she would blame him, if he left. For although she knew most men found her alluring, her body appealing, she knew that her rapid mood swings could scare even the bravest amongst them away. That her personality, was enough to make her appear ugly in anyone's eyes. Should she choose to show the darker side, which tended to emerge all the more frequently in the presence of Leth's moon. In the presence of darkness. "Well?" Shira prodded. "What will it be? Are you staying, or are you leaving, to pass on the story of my alleged insanity?"

[Syllke Skyglow]

Words could not possibly begin to describe the relief that washed over Syllke as he heard that sound. As Nashira sheathed her sword – Caleb’s sword, apparently – Syllke felt like a drowning man suddenly feeling the beach beneath his feet. Dishonor and Nashira’s pleasure be damned – he was just petching glad something had stayed her hand. Her words chilled the very marrow in his bones, though, and still ignorant of her night time race, his mind boggled. He really could not doubt that she had feasted on manflesh. The thought made him want to retch. When he felt her light touch on his shoulder, Syllke almost jumped out of his skin. But, he had been around enough hunters, and predators, to know that fear was often the worst enemy – and that it could be sensed readily, and exploited. So, trying to maintain as indifferent and neutral an expression as possible, he allowed himself to be stopped, though his mind screamed at him to run. He swallowed, then turned to face her, forcing his voice to a steadiness that his insides certainly did not share. “Don’t worry. I maybe be slow, but once I’ve learned the lesson, I’m not likely to forget it.” His eyes were blazing crimson, a dead giveaway of his state of passion – though it was alarm and not lust now. Those eyes probed hers, wondering at their intensity, that juxtaposed so strangely against her deathly calm talk of murder and eating the flesh of those who fell to her sword. In all his rather short life, Syllke had never encountered a being like Nashira – such a complex layering of beauty and darkness, loveliness and lethality. Despite his fear, he could not help but sense, not so far from the surface of his consciousness, a ludicrous compulsion to know her – though he doubted seriously that could ever happen. Nashira all too obviously hid behind a closed and viciously guarded wall – impregnable – unassailable. Whatever alien and almost unwelcome feeling that plucked at his chest, trying to draw him to that opaque barrier, was at work, he knew, looking into those eyes, that it was futile. Nashira was so far beyond his reach, she might as well have been one of her beloved stars hanging in the dark of the night sky. He knew it was ridiculous to even try – how can you understand what lay within a solid piece of rock? “I will stay.” His voice was edged with nervous intensity, his brain screaming at him for being an idiot – a dead idiot most likely. “I wish to learn.” About you – a star so remote that I can barely see your light. But I know it's there. I can feel it. he thought on the very outer edge of his consciousness. “Please, teach me what you can.”

[Nashira]

Nashira smiled weakly, and then headed back to where the two of them had once been. She stood silently for a long time, her chin tilted upwards, so that her gaze may settle among the stars. After awhile, she spoke. "There was a time before they came into being," Shira began. "A time in which those stars were merely a large collection of gas, floating around in space. The remnants of a vast molecular cloud." Nashira paused for a moment, allowing her words to settle in before she continued. "When given enough time both gravity, and pressure will increase, and continue to exert themselves. They will buffet this entity for an eternity, until it finally collapses beneath the weight of each of these forces. This releases a great deal of energy... sometimes, we can see it, even from way down here." Nashira paused again. "In that state, before a star becomes a star, it is known as something else, a protostar." "After a protostar has ceased to exist, it enters a phase in which it goes by another name, a T Tauri star. In this time, a star is not fully developed, a true star," Nashira explained. "It is a time when the pressure of gravity, which exists continually upon the entity, is what holds it all together. Creates all energy. When they appear as though they are a main sequence star, although, they are both larger and brighter than these. A main sequence star is that which we mainly come to see. Celestial bodies such as Syna's sun, or Sirius. These stars then, as you can plainly see, come in all sizes. Big and small, and some, somewhere in-between. Some appear brighter than others, as well. Despite their remaining in existence in the same fashion..." Nashira's voice trailed off for a long time. The light of the stars sparkling in her dark pupils, causing her lips to glow. To seem strangely inviting, despite everything she had said before. "When a star grows old, it becomes a red giant. Far larger than it was when it was only a sequence star... in this phase it runs on fumes, until a time in which there is no longer, anything for it to run on. At this time, it becomes a white dwarf. A star that collapses. It shines, but grows cool. Fades." Nashira fell silent after that, knowing there were other types... but not remembering what any of them were. But Syllke didn't need to know that. Surely, he didn't know enough to ask about it anyway. OOCI used universetoday.com as a reference, and watered some of this down so that it would fit more with the lore.

[Syllke Skyglow]

Syllke listened carefully. Not because he was really so interested in learning about the stars. But he enjoyed her voice and his curiosity about this person was now piqued beyond measure. His heart still hammering in his chest, he had followed to stand beside and slightly behind her. His eyes took in the heavens – he wasn’t staring rudely at her anymore. But he could have closed his eyes and just listened to her rich, mellow near whisper for a very long time. He asked no questions, made no comments of his own. Finally when she was done speaking, he drew a deep breath, almost saddened that she had stopped. In a similarly low tone, he finally said, “I see. Just like people. They are born, they grow and then age. And finally they die. I didn’t realize that. I thought they were the shining souls of those the gods most favored. Your explanation is far less . . . fanciful. It’s good to know, but . . . I think I prefer mine.” Slowly he smiled, wondering if there was any bit of fancy in this oh so fanciful looking creature.

[Nashira]

Nashira's smile widened as she lowered her gaze and turned away from the stars, allowing her eyes to settle upon the Vantha once more. "Everything grows old Syllke, even if they never seem to do so," the Ethaefal said simply. "Everything dies, in one fashion or another. People, plants, the many animals that share this world with us. Even stars. Even rocks, in a fashion, considering they can be reduced to dust." The woman paused for a moment. "You could be right too you know. No way to really test which is true, it seems. No way to stretch your reach far enough to grasp them. No way to whisper the question and have them whisper back the answer... maybe it's both. Some are created by gas and other forces. Others are simply souls bursting into flame. Shining brightly." Nashira's eyes sparkled as she turned away from the Vantha, and looked back up at the stars. She let her hand dangle out at her side, lifting it a little towards Syllke, as though it were some sort of peace offering. Her fingers were furled slightly, held together lightly by an invisible thread, held in the shape of a slender crescent. A crescent which rivaled one of the phases of the moon. "Come, it's getting late," Nashira whispered after a long while. "We should get to our things, start a fire so we can keep warm... the night always brings a cool air. Unless of course, you'd prefer to sleep in an actual bed, back in the city... I can walk you there. Make sure you get there safely, without tripping over your own feet." Nashira paused. "Or perhaps, something slightly smaller, like a rock... you do seem a bit distracted, and I can't say that I think it to merely be the stars." OOCI figured we could bring this to a close, or we could add on a portion around the fire/back in the city if you'd prefer. Your call.

[Syllke Skyglow]

Syllke’s eyes swirled in a shifting pattern reflecting the aurora that was not yet in the skies above them. It was still too early for the heavens to display such passion, regardless of what went on below them. He said nothing, but if the Ethaefal could truly read some part or impression of his thoughts, she might see the reflection of herself there, as the Vantha glanced at her, considering what she had just said. Everything dies – but you. Like the stars above, perhaps, you take two forms. You are of two essences, but still you shine, an unearthly radiance not truly comprehensible to the mortals who behold it. Everything ages, everything reaches an end – even the stars – but not you. When she resumed her silent contemplation of the celestial dance so far above their heads, Syllke too remained quiet, feeling unsettled. At her later suggestion, he gave a small smile. “I’m a child of Morwen, remember? The nighttime chill is nothing to me. But . . . a fire would be nice. And, thanks for your concern for my well being.” He smirked at her, then turned and looked about for some dry wood. Nashira did the same and within a very short time they had gathered a few pieces that would suffice, for a while. With some kindling pulled from his satchel and flint and steel from a pouch at his belt, Syllke soon had a merry little blaze going. He sat cross legged before it, and when she had settled herself, he asked curiously, “Is it true, that the Ethaefal are immortal? You will live . . . forever? Do you . . . don’t you miss living with your goddess?” The thought of living on and on and on was hard for Syllke to conceptualize. It would mean losing all one’s family, one’s friends, lovers – even outliving your own children. Now that would be sad. He looked at her closely. “If you ever had children, you would see them grow up and age and die. How would you stand it?”

[Nashira]

Nashira sat by the side of the fire, allowing the flame to illuminate her features, and cast others in shadow. She lazily pulled her long mane of hair to her right side, allowing it to cascade over the length of her shoulder and onto her stomach as she wove her fingers through the strands, and tugged on it idly so as to give her hands something to do. At the Vantha's words, the woman's eyes sparkled, her lips parting slightly, as though to let out a laugh, but nothing came. "Now where did you hear that?" Nashira asked, pausing for but a moment for Syllke to answer. "The Ethaefal, Leth and Syna's fallen, are far from immortal. While we never seem to age, while we always seem to remain young, our bodies can still fail us. Give into an injury, poison, a large number of various things that could kill you off just as easily. Things that could murder even the gods." Nashira paused for a moment, allowing her words to sink in before continuing. "You do know that they too, aren't exactly immortal. At least, I know that Myri took the life of another god, and essentially, took on his role as the goddess of war." Nashira fell silent again, allowing this news too, to settle into the man's mind. She lifted a spare stick, which was strewn across the grass to her right, and prodded the fire with its end. Causing the lower portions, which had already been engulfed in flame, to sizzle. To send up tiny sparks that swirled and danced through the air, as though they were fireflies, before going out. She could hear the fire crackling as she watched it for awhile, and pulled the smoking stick out of its reach. Her stomach growled in a frustrated manner, at the sight of the fire, the sight of the stick, knowing that its hopes of finding a roast within its confines anytime soon was slowly but surely, being snuffed out. Nashira sighed as she allowed the fire to warm her feet. As she allowed its heat to trail up the length of her legs and into her chest, where it fought alongside the hunger, in a vain and futile attempt to overcome it. Inwardly, the Ethaefal sighed as she watched the last of the orange embers which lined the edge of her stick go out. As she watched a thin trickle of grey smoke sprout from its tip, and then disappear into the night air. Much as the smoke that rose from the rest of the fire did, once it had trailed high enough. Extending its reach towards the heavens; Nashira's patron goddess. The Ethaefal's stomach growled again, making her wish all the more that she had ingested something more substantial for lunch, and packed more than a few apples into her bag. "I guess I do miss living up in the heavens though, or I would if I could remember more of it... the precise color of Syna's hair. If it's more golden or laced with reds and oranges. If it appears a strawberry blonde, or the color of buttercups. The color of her eyes. The way she reaches for Leth. The way she longs for him, and dances around the world with him... sometimes, I think I remember what it must of been like, but after a fashion, I am convinced it is merely Nysel playing tricks on me," Nashira went on, her voice soft. "I'm sure their children would be lovely, if they ever chose to have any... unless you consider the Ethaefal their children. I suppose it depends on how you view things." Nashira paused. "Ethaefal may only bear offspring in the form that reflects their past," she began. "For none of our kind are truly children. They arrive on this plane in the form you see them. Always... it is sad, in a way, for surely, our children would be beautiful. Loved by both parents, Leth and Syna... but it is not meant to be. It is as you said then, our children age, while we mature, yet appear as we always were. Yes, we may die just as they, but time seems to have a cruel fate for what our wombs may actually bare. It seems that time punishes us both in a fashion, for we must watch them grow old, and die, in many cases. While they watch us live on for what appears to be forever. While they live their entire lives knowing that some things, simply, will not change. It must be horrible for them to know that, to think about how short their lives will be in comparison to most of our own. To know, always, what mortality means. To know that we will long for them always, far after the time in which they have left us." Nashira paused, as she ran her hands more frantically through her hair. "They have the worst fate. Perhaps that is why I have never conceived... well, at least, that's part of the reason why, I suppose, now that you mention it... I suppose you know the rest..."

[Syllke Skyglow]

Syllke was saddened by her words, and he looked at her with compassion. Living forever wasn’t something that appealed to him. But being a mere human, he didn’t have to worry about that. Staying alive was usually the more pressing concern. He was sitting close enough to the Ethaefal to have heard her stomach rumbling, though he didn’t comment directly on it. He did have at least that much tact. But, as she had paused, and he sensed the topic of the moment was not a pleasant one for her either, he made a suggestion. “If in this nighttime form of yours you experience hunger, than you are like me. And right now, I’m famished. We’ve been up here a while. What do you say we go back to town? If you’d like, I’m sure I can find something for us to eat. I can cook – nothing spectacular but good enough. Or if you don’t care to come back to the Lyceum with me, perhaps we could take up another lesson on another night.” He paused and smiled in a friendly way. “Unless this night has been quite enough for you – or maybe too much.”

[Nashira]

Nashira smiled weakly. "You must have heard it then. The rumbling," she commented absently, as she turned to face him. To watch the shadow the fire cast dance across Syllke's face. "No matter." Her smile widened as she continued to run her hands through her hair. The pace was slower now, a little less frantic. "And while I am hungry, it probably would be best if we part ways here. Surely, it'd be a little too much to ask of you to cook for each of us." A trace of pink made its way into the woman's cheeks, as she forced herself to pause. "I wouldn't want to impose. So what do you say we walk back to the city together, talk a bit of the stars if you'd like, and find another time to get together and continue studying the sky. If that truly is what you want." Nashira fell silent for a few moments as she got to her feet and gathered her things together, putting them in their proper places before speaking again. "Something tells me, it isn't. That you have come to want something else, you simply cannot have," Nashira commented, as she held out her right hand to help Syllke up. If he didn't take it within a second or two, she'd return her hand to her side, and reach inside her bag, after swinging it around to her front. She'd fish around for her waterskin, and then, pour it atop the fire, until all the embers went out. Until all that remained was the charred wood, and several spirals of grey smoke. Floating forever upwards, into the dark. As soon as the fire had gone out, Nashira put her waterskin away, and turned her bag back around. She would then, slowly, begin making her way back into the city. With or without the Vantha at her side. Hopefully, she would make it long before the season's chill sank into her bones. Before she gave into the urge to accept the Vantha's offer. Knowing that doing so would offer her a warm place to stay for the night. OOCErm... I figured this would do it. So we can stick to present-day threads? Unless you want to post again to wrap up yourself?