[Flashback] Go Forth and Seek (Bina)

[Kalesse]

Time stamp: Fall, 506 AV
Place: Keerdash Grove, The Burning Lands



Moving at a fast clip, the hoof beat’s sharp staccato was muffled by the sand as they raced over the endless dunes. Not only was the wind ripping through her hair as the fine pale sand peppered her face, but the displacement her own movement made among the air currents caused Kalesse’s hands to nearly vibrate with the sensation. On days when one just needed a moment to think, to be alone, and to pretend you can fly… there was nothing better than riding.

The sun was just stretching its fingertips over the eastern horizon, kissing the stars away and replacing them with pale yellows and reds, the cloudless and slowly brightening sky reflecting the expansive desert that lay beneath. The air was still chilled, as the sun hadn’t risen high enough to warm the glowing sands. However, it was only a matter of time until it would be too hot to be out in the direct sunlight. That was the first reason Kalesse had risen while the stars were still out and took Haida out for a run. A gift from her parents, the yearling filly was still green and so full of energy that the fifteen year old was having trouble keeping up with her new charge.

The second reason was today was the day of her Searching.

Sweaty, covered in a fine coating of sand, and grinning Kalesse pulled up short outside her tent, sending clods of earth packed tight from constant wear flying in all directions; the patter of the sand and dirt hitting the canvas of the tents almost made it sound like rain. Peeking her head out of the tent at the noise, Chaii immediately caught sight of her daughter and smiled.

“Someone is very excited, I see.”

“Of course, mom. Haida ran beautifully this morning. I was about to let her have her head on the way back, but she tried to get the bit in her teeth and…”

“You can tell me about it later, dear. Go get ready.”

A furrow appeared between her brows as her mother abruptly disappeared back into her tent. Tempted to stomp in after her and finish her story, Kalesse knew that it would not be a good omen to start a fight on such an important morning. Taking a moment, she turned and pressed her cheek to Haida’s muzzle and took a deep, calming breath.

--*--

Even from the distance, Kalesse could hear the voices of her tribe, their laughter spilling out towards the endless horizions. The sound made her smile, a certain pride for her people swelling her chest until she almost swaggered towards the gathering. This was her moment, though it would not be the same if it wasn’t shared by everyone she loved, respected, and cared for.

The many tents used for this occasion were erected to shelter from the sun, all gathered in a half moon that opened towards the Keerdash grove that was their pride and joy. Many mingled now beneath the bloody leaves of the trees, while others lounged beneath the shaded tents. All waiting.

Her parents were both visible, laughing beneath the shade of the largest Keerdash tree, her father , Kike, leaning against the trunk with her mother tucked beneath his arm. Their smiles turned from each other when she approached, widening into grins as their eldest daughter strode proudly towards them.

“You look beautiful, Leesey.” Strong, calloused hands gripped her arm as she was pulled into a hug. The image conscious teen within her almost struggled to get away, before she silently conceded and wrapped her father.

“Thank you, dad.”

“We are so proud of you.” Chaii looked as if she was on the verge of tears. Of course, it was the usual parental pride and glory speeches that were to follow, both her parents as chipper and excited as if they were a Seeker once more.

“I want you to take this. It is tradition.” A small but elegant dagger appeared on her father’s palm, the hilt facing Kalesse and ready for grasping. The handle was Keerdash wood, dark red and smooth to the touch from years of use.

“I…. thank you” Having received Haida as an early gift for the Chaktawe’s coming of age equivalence, Kalesse was humbled by this unexpected gift. Uncharacteristic tears stood out in her black eyes, making them shine like a night with but a few stars. “I.. don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything, Sweetheart. It’s your father and my way of saying we are proud of you, and we believe in you.” It was the same scene, projected across generations and throughout every race, but a parents pride in their children was not something taken lightly.

“Have you seen Pash?” Kalesse interjected, cutting her father off as he tried to give her what he considered helpful advice, though it was the third time he had repeated the same thing: “Don’t look back, just go”, and he was starting again on one of the more beloved stories of their people. Kalesse knew these stories by heart, her parents’ as well as the tribes, that is. With a culture as rich in tales as theirs, no child grew without memorizing each and every one. The first lesson a Chaktawe child learned: The history was sacred. The history was to be protected, remembered, and retold for generations to come.

“We haven’t, but I am sure he will show up.”

Nodding in agreement, Kalesse took her leave of her parents, walking towards the center of the grove. Having meticulously painted the red stripe of her tribe across her eyes, the young girl focused making sure that her dark hair was adjusted so that it fell over her shoulders in a wave, the beads that had been carefully woven after her morning ride clacked gently in the breeze. Covered in dark brown, black and mahogany feathers, Kalesse’s bodice and wrap were modest and traditional; she had been gathering the feathers for years, having only completed the last layer a week before she was destined for her Search. It was her proudest creation thus far.

Slowly, as the last few members of the tribe trickled in, silence began to fall. There was only the sound of the wind in the leaves to keep Kalesse company as she waited.

[Colombina]

As Kalesse hid amidst the pale trunks of the Keerdash trees she could see snatches of her fellow dancers in the wood. Young beautiful girls of the tribe on the cusp of their own searching or lately gifted with their own guardians. They had dissolved to murmurs and trembling shapes of red and blue. The fairest and tallest of them would play the goddess, draped in blue and her dark hair loose. Kalesse had only seen portions of their practices. She was taught the gestures, steps and poses she required separate from the others. Only memory of others’ searchings would remind her of the weaving nature of the dance. The others would radiate from her and “Eywaat” in a flowing story. Today she was the beloved of the god for whom all the Keerdash grew. The tents were facing a clearing in the trees, an impromptu stage. The other dancers had been preparing and hiding in the trees flanking the clearing since early morning. “Kalesse,” murmured her teacher, “Come, it is time.” Ayita, the teacher of the dance had instructed them all with gentle insistence. She was still young herself, her first child still nameless. Kalesse’s mother had said Ayita was the most beautiful Makutsi she had ever seen, and during Ayita’s searching ritual, even the trees bent to watch. Ayita smiled and leaned forward, her long black hair making a curtain to shield their whispers. “I have your costume. Treat it with care. It has graced many a girl.” Slowly Ayita pulled a folded shape from her pouch and respectfully draped it between her hands. Kalesse had never seen fabric so richly red. It seemed a creation of the grove itself. The fabric was heavy with beads of mica and polished carnelian. Kalesse’s muted, feather mantle was removed and the red enchantment was draped around her slight frame. Her work complete, Ayita gave her final instruction. “Lovely, Kalesse. It is time. Take your beginning pose before the tents. Remember, do not open your eyes until your mysterious ‘crow’ arrives.” And so, Kalesse stood before her tribe, her eyes closed and her arms gracefully aloft. The music began, seemingly falling from the branches. When the "crow god" touched her, the dance would begin. OOCFeel free to improvise your portions of the dance, but don’t complete it

[Kalesse]

With a slow intake of breath to hide her nervousness, Kalesse stepped forward to meet Ayita. Silently, as she was suddenly afraid to trust her voice, Kalesse nodded in response to her teachers instruction. It was time. This was what she had been working towards.

Why did that make her so scared? How did she stand straight and confident one moment only to go weak in the knees and shivery in the next? Her arms shook as she held them out, stepping and twirling slowly as her costume was draped and wrapped around her. The anxious tremble of her hands was made embarrassingly obvious when the heavy fabric settled over her, the beads and mica clinking and singing out about the way she shook.

Through the branches she could see flashes, glimpses of the others preparing and waiting for her to enter. How ashamed she would be if they knew how scared she was. How they would make fun of her, she who was supposed to be the strong daughter of Kike and Chaii. And the pretty one, in blue. She would laugh at Kalesse and all would love her for it.

And then in a sudden inspiration, Kalesse saw herself as the crowd would see her: Beautiful, confident and graceful as she made her parents and Ayita proud, completing the ritual with her head held high. All at once, the nerves left her; shoulders squared and the shift of her posture as she straightened her back sent the beads in her costume tinkling, a merry tune this time.

"I am ready."

Ayita left her then, smiling as she wound through the pale trunks to meld with the awaiting crowd. A careful and proud stride carried Kalesse towards the tents, her black eyes bright and glinting, like the mica in the sunlight. A hush fell upon the crowd as she appeared, the girls ego telling her that it was her beauty and poise that stunned them so when in fact it was the simple anticipation of this beloved tradition that held the crowd in awe.

Fighting, and failing, to keep the smirk from her lips, Kalesse raised her arms above her head, her wrists flicking lightly as they fell into their elegent pose. Turning her face so that she appeared to be shyly hiding it against her shoulder, Kalesse closed her eyes, held her breath and waited.

When she felt that gentle brush on her shoulder, like the tip of a wing buffeting her in passing, Kalesse fell into the well practiced movement. Like one, Eywaat and his beloved fluttered around the grove, chasing and darting at each other in the dance that both Kalesse and the boy from her tribe had practiced for so long. This was the first time their dances were to come together, however, as the two had practiced separately from each other. Bashing down the nervous flutter in her stomach with a blow of confidence she conjured out of no where, Kalesse let herself go, melting into the dance, the story.

The music seemed a part of her, the ritual something she had known since she was born and witnessed many times since then. Stories were an integral part of their culture and the young woman was determined to do this one justice. With her fierce black gaze locked on her partner, the one who portrayed their beloved Crow, she hardly had any notice for the other girls that fluttered around the edges of their courtship dance, adding flair and embellishment to the main story.

To the crowd, Kalesse seemed to float, bending into each dance move with an ease that left many breathless and brought a tear to more than just her mother's eye. She was, in short, beautiful. Not only in physique but in the passion that she gave to the movements, to the dance of the history of their people. And they loved her for it.

It was as she and the daughter in blue skipped and twirled, weaving in and out of each others path as they gave life to the Makutsis Spring once more, that Kalesse finally looked to the crowd. The pride and emotion that she saw in the faces that watched her, the glittering black eyes that followed her every move, brought tears to her own. It was as she struck the final pose of her dance with her arms held aloft once more, her face turned confidently towards the crowd rather than hidden against her shoulder to show the completion of the story, that a single tear of passion trickled down her cheek.

[Colombina]

OOCBeautifully done! Through the dance, Kalesse had encroached on the territory of a woman. She had both gloried in beauty and become one with it. It was a power that transcended physical appeal, borne of joy in the moment and a passion for the vibrant light of life. For what is more beautiful than joy or more becoming than love? Kalesse harnessed this bright star for the dance, and was now gracefully floating back to the warm earth. Her tribe and her family reflected back on her the radiance she exuded, and for a precious instance she felt the weight of so much love and well wishing. It was her day to remember and cherish. Standing from the crowd, the Wayhali came forward with a plaited crown of dried Keerdash leaves balanced between his hands. Kalesse was bid to bow her head and the crown was rested on her dark hair. It was an ornament to her brow and a symbol of the history of her people. When she stood straight the Wayhali instructed her with all reverence for the old wisdom. “Remember us and remember joy as you seek our gods. For though you may tire in the night, strength will come in the morning.” As his words settled into her thoughts, a figure dear to her stepped forward from the audience and asked, “What shall you seek in the sands, Kalesse?” oocPlease pick someone to be this person of especial significance and play out a little conversation

[Kalesse]

Wasn't she supposed to feel different? Wasn't the dance supposed to signify her first steps into womanhood?

Trying to control her breathing as her chest heaved in a light pant, the dance having taken more from her than she expected, Kalesse tried not to give into the wave of disappointment. All their childhood, Chaktawes are told of the importance of this moment. Well, it didn't feel all that important as the young woman stared at the ground, hearing only her labored breathing and the rustle of the wind through the crimson leaves above her. Why wasn't anyone talking? Were they not moved? Had she failed? She had expected roaring applause, tears, singing, laughter.... Everyone else got cheers and praises for happiness... why not her?

So, having anticipated far more of a reaction than she received, Kalesse felt her eyes begin to sting, tears threatening to undo her haughty composure by spilling over her lids and trailing down her cheeks. Poor proud Kalesse, learning the first hard lesson of adulthood: Nothing can live up to such high expectations.

Just as her arms started to ache with the strain of holding her final position, her composure wavering dangerously towards the tears while the silence stretched, the Wayhali stepped forward. It was as if the winds sighed along with the crowd, a general release of held breath as the crown was nestled upon her head. And then they exulted, a blush and smile both lighting her copper, sunkissed skin as she finally let her arms fall, raising her glistening black eyes to take in the crowd, her family, her tribe. Her pride, momentarily diminished, returned.

"What shall you see in the sands, Kalesse?" She spun, nearly losing her balance as Pashke approached her from behind, his voice warm and slow as he asked the age old question. Losing all her composure, Kalesse threw herself at the lanky man, wrapping him in the best hug she could despite the restrictions of her outfit.

"I thought you would not come!" Now a tear or two did escape, her smile shy as she detached herself from her longest friend, who she always hoped would view her as something more.

"Of course I would come, Kalesse..." He cleared his throat, looking a bit awkward as he straightened his shirt, glancing sideways towards the tents. "What shall you seek in the sands?" He repeated, making her aware of the crowd that still awaited her answer. There would be time later for talking.

"I will seek what Eywaat has laid out for me. It is not for me to know, but to find as I complete my journey into womanhood." She said this to Pash directly, her hard, proud onxy eyes locked on his softer, dreamier ones, but she spoke for the Tribe, her voice strong and confident as the winds carried it to all their ears.

[Colombina]

The Wayhali bowed his head to Kalesse's wisdom. "It is the glory of the gods to hide wisdom, but the glory of Queens to search it out." He gestured and the dancer who donned Makutsi's colors stepped forward with a piece of red pottery in her hands. The small jar shimmered with mica, looking like the blood of gods. "Stretch out your hands, Kalesse," the Wayhali instructed. When her sensitive hands were extended, the blue dancer poured the contents of the jar into Kalesse's hands: a small dried flower, shaped like a star. "Eat it and begin your search," the dancer explained. Her tribe waited, expectant and proud. The flower tasted like cloves followed with a vegetable bitterness. "So comes the years," said a voice she did not recognize. It was the last thing she could recall. ~*~ When Kalesse awoke, she was alone, partially covered in a ruby bower of a broken Keerdash branch. Around her rolled pale dunes of fine sand. She wore her riding clothes and a pack was beside her, but nothing else. So began her journey, thicker with questions than answers.

[Kalesse]

She had always expected the flower to taste a little worse than it did.

At first, Kalesse had just stared at the delicate plant in her hands, unwilling to eat it and destroy it's beauty. But the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, the weight of dozens of pairs of eyes watching her as she took the next step to completing the ritual weighing heavily on her shoulders.

Kalesse didn't need to turn around to know that her parents still stood in the front of the crowd, her mother with her hands clasped above her heart, while her father stood with a hand on his wife's shoulder, his face a deep red as he blushed with pride for his daughter. More particularly, Pash had arrived and Kalesse didn't want to ruin her composure by looking at him. She knew her heart would start to beat rapidly and there was no way she was going to blush like a little girl in front of her entire tribe. No, she had to do this.

With one last glance at those chosen to dance in her ritual, all of whom had gathered opposite their Tribe and were facing her now in a semi-circle, Kalesse twisted her lips into what she thought was a confident smile and slipped the flower into her mouth, quickly chewing and swallowing.

Almost immediately her tongue felt heavy and thick, as if someone had poured a bucket of sand down her throat. Her eyelids started to slide closed and the colorful garments of her dancers swam before her eyes as the proud teenage girl slipped into the blissful arms of the flower's embrace.

-------

It was the sun that woke her, beating down from the clear blue sky and directly onto her face. Raising an arm to shield her eyes, Kalesse tried to sit up and get her bearings. However, whether it was from laying in the baking afternoon sun or the after effects of the flower she ate, the dunes that spread in all directions as far as the eye could see swam across her vision. Instinctively, Kalesse covered her mouth as she felt her stomach heave in response to the world swimming around her.

It was almost half a bell before Kalesse was able to get to her feet. The Keerdash branch was thrown over her shoulder after the sand was dusted from her clothes, the bag slung across her back. It was no surprise to her, as she looked around, that there were no landmarks anywhere. That would just be too easy, and obviously she was being tested.

But was this even her desert? Was this even real? What had been the flower that she'd eaten? For years, Kalesse had watched the older girls and boys partake of the Dance, eat the flower and commence their Searching. However, no one ever talked about it afterwards. It was a personal journey that was meant to stay just that- personal.

Belatedly, Kalesse realized that she was in her riding gear. But where was her horse? She didn't see Haizea anywhere among the dunes that stretched for miles.

"Well, that's unhelpful." A crease appeared between her brows and a frown turned her lips as she pulled the pack from her back and knelt in the sand as she went through it. The essentials for survival spilled out beneath her hands; a small amount of dried food and a dagger. There was a short length of rope, for a snare perhaps, and a tightly folded piece of canvas in case she wasn't able to find shelter. Unless there were hidden pockets or a secret password to reveal the rest of the contents, that was all she had.

Wondering if everyone else was left with so little, Kalesse repacked her gear and, since there was nothing else to do, started walking.

[Colombina]

And so she walked. The vastness of the desert made any path but the ones followed with the vigilance of men at sea purposeless. Kalesse marked the perfect golden skin of freshly blown hills and broke flakes of dry earth under her heel. It was like falling asleep, this endless walk. It led into mystery and deep nothingness. Was this all there was: the delirious feeling of searching but not understanding what was to be found? When she saw the tracks, Kalesse would have been ready to follow any omen and call it divine. The crescent divots of horse hooves pocked the sand. The trail snaked and crested, the marks growing more distinct with every span, as if the horse had gained substance and weight. Sometimes the trail made so sense, circling on itself or veering to the side. Kalesse almost saw crude images in the scrawl of hoof prints, but shook them off as her eyes being to eager. In the instant Kalesse began to believe the horse had been made of sand and wind, she saw the magnificent silhouette dancing against the excruciatingly blue sky. The heat marbled the air with silver waves, distorting the ground. The horse seemed to flicker, one instant black the other glass as the sky shone through its body and white fingers of sun twisted its mane. Now it waited, turning its head towards her. It had the unabashed scrutiny and disregard of an animal, but there was weight in its sudden quietude. It wasn’t moving until she arrived. The land played tricks, the Chaktawe girl knew this. This one bit of guidance could be no more than a mirage, and if it wasn’t, the distance to the creature was three times longer than what her bare eyes estimated.

[Kalesse]

At first, the heat was bearable. Having lived in the sea of sands her entire life, being stuck out in the blazing sun of, judging by the position of the light in the sky, early afternoon this was no feat for Kalesse. She quickly repacked her meager possessions, put the sun to her back and, since there seemed to be no other option, started walking.

Still hyped and elated from her ritual dance, the young Chaktawe tromped through the stand with nary a bitter thought. Her back started to grow uncomfortably warm, a slight breeze making the pores in her fingers tickle just enough that it was slightly uncomfortable but this was a test! It wasn't supposed to be easy! Hoisting her pack into a better position on her shoulders, Kalesse loosed her hair from its bonds that had held it aside during the dance, allowing it to flow down her back and help protect her neck and shoulders from the sun. The thick, black, wavy locks would do nothing to keep her cool, however.

Knowing that the heat would gladly suck the life and energy from her, Kalesse did her best to extend her stride in hopes of conserving energy by covering more ground with each step; the sinking of her heels into the sand quickly had her calves burning, an insistent ache forming in the small of her back, though she did her best to ignore it. Each footfall landed where she could see it, making sure to walk around any kind of obstacle that prevented itself rather than just stepping over it; placing her foot where she couldn't see it fall meant stepping on a rattler or perhaps something worse; she had no desire to die during her Searching. Or ever, for that matter.

Energy wasn't the only thing that the extreme heat sapped from the girl; it wasn't long until the sense of pride and responsibility that the ritual had instilled in the young girl fizzled, shriveled, and died.

"This is a test? What kind of test is this!" Optimistic before, her temper now flared. The sun had passed its apex, meaning Kalesse had been walking for bells. The novelty of the situation had long since evaporated along with the last of her water. Hot, irritated, and still with nothing to show for it, Kalesse was less than happy.

"Thanks mom, dad, for warning me that this whole ordeal was going to be COMPLETELY USELESS!" Shouting at the sky, the girl tilted her head back so that the words were tugged away by the soft breeze. She'd long since stopped feeling the gentle rush of the air on her fingers, forgotten it was even there as it had provided no sense of relief. The sunburn that appeared on the back of her neck despite the cover of hair chafed when she threw her head back, causing her to instead yelp and hunch forward.

"Petching... petching, stupid.." Fumbling at the waist of her pants, Kalesse sought the sash she always kept wrapped there; life in the desert always taught her to keep some kind of deterrence from the sun handy. But her fingers slid over the cloth of her riding pants, finding the loop that usually held the sash in place empty.

"You have got to be kidding me!" In what could equate to a teenage temper tantrum, Kalesse started spouting every swear word she knew; without her parents here to scold or stop her, she had the freedom to express her frustration in a less than lady-like manner. The tirade went on for a good few chimes, though it seemed to rob the girl of her remaining strength; once she ran out of actual swears and began to make up her own, she slowly sank to the sand.

"This so isn't fair... Why couldn't it have been easy? I did such an awesome job with the dance! I've never done anything wrong! I always do what I'm told... what kind of punishment is this?!" Ah, the Privileged. Unfortunately for her, Kalesse suffered from what most every teenage suffered from: the idea that they should have everything handed to them. When that didn't happen, it was because they were being unfairly treated. Tired, hot, and in a sour mood, Kalesse couldn't bring herself to find her feet again, but laying there in the open sun on her back was just asking for trouble; she could already feel the burn beginning to take hold of her face. With no more water, having all the hydration sucked from her body would not do, she knew that much.

Belatedly remembering the canvas in her pack, Kalesse shimmied the bag out from under her and pulled the folded square out. It took only a few shakes for it to unfold, revealing a piece that was big enough to cover her three times over. Pulling the life-saving shroud over her head, the young girl sighed and curled into a ball. The protection from the sun would only last as long as the canvas deterred the heat; once the fabric started to heat up, she would be in practically the same position as before, sans the sunburn.

How long she laid there, she didn't know, but eventually the canvas did nothing to keep her cool and she was forced to get up once more and move. Laying there had done little to restore her energy, as she should have known it would, the break in her constant moving allowing fatigue to settle into her muscles. Movement was painful at first, taking more energy than it should, but she had to keep walking. She had too.

Her anger and defiance had, in turn, also been melted away by the heat. Hardly able to think straight, Kalesse was in no shape to curse those who sent her here. She had no thoughts to spare for water, even, as the seconds were consumed with Left foot, Right foot, Left foot, Right foot..


"You're here! I know you are!" Kalesse croaked softly through cracked, dried lips. She had walked as far as she could, but with her water gone she couldn't go any further. On her knees with her fingers buried in the sand, the girl closed her eyes and focused solely on the feeling in her fingertips; if she could find water, she could make it through this.

It took longer than she could have liked, long enough that her head had began to throb unbearably and she wobbled unsteadily when she stood, but she found the water. As if placed there on purpose, a lone cactus stood at the foot of a dune; all she had to do was make it over the top and she would make it.

Heat weakened fingers dug desperately into the burning sands, shoving it to the sides only to have most of it slide back into the hole she was trying to dig. As everything seemed to do in this place, it took longer than it should have before Kalesse was met with fine, wet sand. Ignoring the grit of the dirt, handfuls of the wet sand were shoveled into her mouth.

No shade was cast by the cactus but Kalesse rested for a moment regardless. Pitch black eyes scanned her surroundings, though not much had changed; waves of sand still surrounded her as far as she could see. Except for the hoof prints that dances alongside her own wobbly trail, there was no sign of life besides herself....

"Haizea?!" Stumbling to her feet, she rushed over to the nearest print. A perfect crescent, it was undoubtedly a horse. The fact that she had failed come come across any other living thing, even the ones that could easily kill her, had bothered Kalesse. This sign of life sent a jolt of energy thrilling through her. Could it really be? It seemed too good to be true.

Which, of course, it was. Like a dog with her nose to the trail, Kalesse followed those prints with unwaivering dedication. Even when fatigue and thirst began to creep back in, she kept going. However, with each veer or circle the prints made, doubt crept further into her mind. Could she be making this up? Had she finally gone crazy? Perhaps she had seen what she wanted to see; Haizea would mean that her trip towards... whatever it was towards... would have become ten times as easy. But still she continued, afraid to give up, afraid to fail. Following an imaginary trail seemed like a better alternative to failure; at least it gave her a purpose in this wasteland.

Resentment began to creep back in. Though she loved her tribe, her people, her desert more than anything...she hated them all, right now. Or, at least she thought it was hate. There was an angry pain in her chest that flared every time she thought about anyone, every time she followed the hoof prints to the top of a dune, only to find another equally horse-less one on the other side. It took her a long time to realize the pain was dry sobs; she was crying, though her body spared her no tears.

Halfway down a dune, Kalesse lost her footing. The tumble seemed to go on forever, each roll or bump sending a wave of nausia into the back of her throat. When she finally landed, she was on her back, stairing at the sky. The sun hung low, hovering over the far horizion as if it was trying to decide whether or not it was time to go to sleep. Either way, it would be nighttime in a few bells. And thus far, Kalesse was empty handed.

Defeat came then, quick and severe. She had been here to find, to search for an answer... and she had found nothing at all. Not only that, but she had failed to survive in the very climate that she had lived her own life, her mind had snapped and shown her images that weren't really there, phantom hoofprints that lead her further into failure... Another dry sob and Kalesse rolled over onto her side, curling up into a ball. She stared blankly at the dunes surrounding her for a long time before she realized what she was seeing.[/color]

"Haizea!" For the third time, hope gave her the energy to scramble to her feet. There, on the adjacent dune, was the source of those tracks! She wasn't crazy! It was her horse after all! Stumbling forward, Kalesse rushed as best she could toward the animal. The hope that welled inside her staved off all the negative thoughts, the ones that warned her that this, too, could be all in her mind. The hope was keeping her alive; her body knew this and knew it to be too special to let falter.

It wasn't until she was a hundred yards away that the horse turne to look at her, causing Kalesse to stop dead in her tracks. It wasn't Haizea.

The sun lit up the animal like a brilliant sunset, an invisible breeze rippling through it's mane and tail though her hair hung heavy and still down her back. One moment it was as solid as a real horse, though the next she thought she could almost see the peak of the dune behind it through its very flesh.

"You're not..." Was all she managed to get out before the lump in her throat choked her. The horse tilted its head, watching her intently as if it was waiting for the rest of her sentence. Ashamed by the scrutiny and her long string of failures that now crushed back in on her like a wave, Kalesse averted her eyes from the beast. "Just go. Please...go..."

Unable to be faced with something that her mind, obviously broken by the heat, had created. But the horse didn't go. Instead, it shook its mane and took a step towards her, tilted it's head and waited. Or, at least Kalesse thought it looked like it was waiting. But why?

One step forward and the horse bobbed it's head happily. Two steps, and it seemed to almost prance with excitement. Three, four, five... Before she knew it, Kalesse could have stretched out her hand and touched the creature. But she didn't, and it didn't stay standing before her. Instead, it took off down the dune and up the side of the next, trotting slowly though still too quickly for the young Chaktawe's heavy feet.

Kalesse had to make a decision then. A moment of searching told her that her gut wanted to follow the horse while her head screamed that this was all a lie; for all she knew, she was still laying beneath that canvas, dreaming and slowly dying. So which would she believe? Her head or or heart?

Proud, haughty Kalesse had gotten into a lot of trouble thanks to her head; not everyone apprecaited her forthright way of dealing with things, or the words she didn't always think all the way through before saying. Her head had lied to her on this search.. her heart hadn't.

Gathering up the last bits of energy she could possibly muster, Kalesse stumbled after the mysterious horse.

[Colombina]

Kalesse had begun with a playful chase, a child's curious pursuit of something attractive and mysterious. And it had danced out of reach lightly, exerting little energy. The day grew longer, turning ruddier shades of amber, and she had still failed to touch the creature. Her curiosity had been supplanted with compulsion. An inner drum beat time to her steps and would not relent. The beat became her heart and breath, all efforts seemingly integrated. To cease her pursuit was to perish. Frustration gave way to anger and anger to animalistic hatred. The game grimaced and sharpened into a hunt with every miss. The horse was going to teach the girl the agony of a woman grown: to want without fulfillment. The child passed through a barren orchard of leafless acacia, scratched and slunk over jackals' dens and slid down quiet dunes. The horse was ever before her, growing more magnificent and infernal with every bell until it was a totem of all she had failed to tame within herself. When she finally collapsed in the sand at its feet, it pulled at the earth with one hoof and snorted its challenge. Was that everything? His eyes were lapis colored, a ghostly shade for a beast. His. She knew it was a stallion, now, by the breadth of its shoulders and the scorn in its glance. Evening sky was bright compared to the now dark stallion. A serene backdrop of stars and shades of blue marbling into one another bid her be at rest. Rest? Not until she laid her hands on this ukalas cursed thing. The horse shook his great black head in disgust and turned into the night, wild as flowing water, and just as quick. If only she could grab his mane. She could break him, she could. The thoughts came half-crazed, dire in their conviction.