Completed [Bronze Woods]Old News from Cyphrus

[Crypt]

80th of Fall, 512 AV (The eighteenth bell) Crypt was sitting on the leaf-covered ground of a small forest clearing, with eyes closed and body motionless. Nearby, Maras, his Strider, quietly grazed, chewing the grass slowly and unhurridly. The key to Meditation is peace and quiet. For a person to begin learning Meditation, a peaceful place oftentimes provides great benefits and helps one to focus his mind. - Meditation: An Introduction Only the slight rustle of leaves could be heard then; that which the ever-present breezes had caused provided a suitable environment for one of Crypt's meditation sessions. No birds chirping; no caravans rumbling along the road. Just nature in her near-silence. Breath in. Breath out. Calm and slow my breaths are. In. Out. In. Out. Focus on myself. The tension in Crypt's body, a result of his tiring job at the Windmount Stables, slowly faded away as he continued to sit in a meditative posture, inhaling and exhaling with a certain rhythm. His muscles relaxed, his heartbeat slowed down slightly. And yet every now and then, he twitched and lost some of his concentration. He was still a novice, and as such would take some time to fall into the state of mind ideal for meditation. And yet minutes passed, and Crypt eventually mastered his mind and body such that he was perfectly still, and focusing solely on the Djed flowing within his body. Feel it flow. From head to toe, from arm to arm, from leg to leg. Do not interfere, just watch. Time is flowing, but it is enough. Go with the flow, and understand thyself even more. Crypt's face was clear of all expressions. He was now concentrating only on the reserves of Djed held within him. After a minute or two of simply observing the Djed moving out from his astral body into his physical body through his nerves, he started to manipulate his Djed gently, carefully. Move more to the left arm. Gather small amounts from the legs, and slowly push them, guide the Djed towards the arm. There is no hurry; I have all the time in the world. Crypt focused on the Djed that he was gathering from his lower limbs, taking extreme care not to take too much, for fear of disrupting the functions of the muscles in his legs. The Djed flowed up the pathways of his legs almost languidly, then he gently nudged them towards his arm, where they coalesced into what would appear to be a small sphere, then trickled little by little at an extremely slow pace into the ligaments connecting his arm bones together, the tendons linking the muscles and bones together and finally the muscles of his left arm. Unfortunately, due to his relative inexperience, he could not totally hinder the Djed from flowing too fast, but was finally able to balance the Djed. He felt the arm growing a little lighter, and felt it to be stronger than usual. He opened his eyes, breaking out of the partial trance and moved his arm experimentally. Crypt grinned slightly. It was moving faster than it would normally be, and he was able to unsheath and sheath his longsword rather easily. The weight appear to be reduced when he was enhancing his arm with the Flux. He was used to it, having trained many a time with the Flux, and as such it would not prove detrimental to his combat skills. He closed his eyes again, laying his left arm on his left leg and used his right hand to move slowly up his arm, starting from from the wrist. Using his hand as a conduit, he felt the Djed within shiftly ever so slightly, pulsing almost imperceptibly every now and then. Normally he would not be able to feel such a tiny change with his novice level in Auristics, but this was his own body, and his own Djed. Crypt started to expend a constant amount of Djed, focusing on the excess Djed he had gathered in his arm and hand. Once he could clearly sense the spread-out Djed, he slowly released the Djed from his control, allowing them to dissipate into the flow of Djed around his body in a controlled manner, careful not to release too much at once. Over-giving was no laughing matter, and he did not wish to lose the use of his arm or legs. Eventually, the delicate procedure was finished. Crypt opened his eyes, and let out a breath he had been keeping in for over half a minute. Both of his arms ached slightly, the left more than the right, but at least he didn't have a headache or migraine. Yes... I've improved. In the Flux, that is. I think I've gained slightly better control over my Djed, though I may still lose some measure of control every now and then. I am now able to enhance my left arm a little faster - maybe one or two seconds faster? Hopefully. DId I make any mistakes? Seems like I didn't - Oh my goodness. I am such a fool. Crypt slapped his forehead, groaning. The wrist! The damned wrist! I left nothing for it! I could have taken more from my legs without harming them and used the Djed for my wrist, but I forgot! If I did that mistake in combat, I'd break it in the middle of combat! My concentration would be nearly non-existent: I've always hated pain. It would distract me, and it would cause my death if I could not react to any attacks. Well, at least I'm learning that now, not in battle. Focus on the positive side, Crypt. At least I didn't screw up my Auristics. I'm learning to sense Djed better now, or rather the presence of it, so that's one good thing.

[Aoren]

"Why am I here?" Aoren looked around the dense foliage of the Bronze Wood. In all truth he was very hesitant to enter the forest. The multitude of dangers that made their home within its depths was reason enough to stay well away from it but it was also for that very reason it was the safest place to continue to study and practice his more dangerous arts.

So Aoren risked those dangers though they had almost gotten him killed several times already. Despite that fact today had been a largely uneventful day in terms of dangers. The Drykan male couldn't survive by himself in the wilderness for extended periods of time but he had learned enough to be alone for a few days. He knew not to leave food out in places where predators could smell them. He knew how to dig a fire pit so that if he fell asleep while his campfire was still going it would burn itself out rather than burn him alive. Not to mention the smoke helped to keep bugs away and lesser animals were wary of it.

Aside from that he knew only odds and ends like the fact that the sight of moss always meant that water was nearby or how to find north without a compass which involved taking a stick and fixing it in a stable position so that he could study to passage of time as the shadow cast by the sun's light pointed out East and West. That however, was the extent of his skills and he knew that the more time he spent coming out here into the depths of the wilderness he would need to improve upon them but that was something that came with time and effort.

Aoren came to a stream as he traveled through the woods. He carried with him only that which he needed to survive for the length of time he intended to be here. Anything more and it could have been cumbersome and stupid. He repositioned his grip on his quarterstaff and knelt before the stream dipping his waterskin into the flowing waters. When the skin was full he capped it placing it on his belt. Cupping his hands he placed them in the water allowing that cold water to fill the bowl then brought his hands to his lips and drank a few times.

This whole time the young man was tuning his ears to listen to the world around him. He had learned all too well the consequences of allowing yourself to fall out of touch with the sounds of the environment. He heard the gurgling of the stream, the wind that rustled the leaves of the trees, the buzz of insects as the carried out their simple tasks and the chirping of a scarce few birds. Aoren always listened for the birds. He was as at ease as he dared allow himself to be when they were happily chirping, squawking and generally being noisy. It was when they were silent that he was most on edge. That always boded ill and that was when the young Drykan always turned and ran as quickly and stealthily as he possibly could in the other direction. Which wasn't saying much. Aoren did not know the finer points of stealth.

"Well Aoren, best be on your way." He was headed to a favored clearing not terribly deep within the forest but deep enough that he usually wasn't bothered. Rising from his kneeling position he adjusted his grip on his staff and set out in the direction of the clearing. He wasn't far off. Aoren began going through what would be his moderately normal routine whenever he made the trip out to the clearing.

"Exercise by stretching my arms, legs and abdomen. Oy, I haven't done that in about a week. That's going to be fun." He glanced around looking for the gnarled tree that stood just a few minutes away from the clearing. He found it without having to exhaust much of his observational skills. It was a twisted corpse. What life was left within the tree had eked out the final remnants of its existence long ago yet the skeleton remained. Unmoving. Unwavering. Ever watchful in its eternal vigil over the forest that was otherwise abundant with life. That was when he heard something that set him on edge or rather the lack of something.

No birds.

Aoren gripped his staff a bit more tightly. His heart rate picked up. He was about to turn and find the quickest way of putting as much distance between himself and the clearing as he could when he caught sight of something that was largely out of place.

A strider. He would recognize it anywhere. The proud horse of his ancestral homeland. Towering over the inferior horses of the wider world there wasn't anything quite like them. Proud. Built for strength and speed, rippling with corded muscle, and undeniably intelligent. Aoren's breath caught. He knew it was something in his blood that called him to the beast.

Aoren knew comparatively little about his homeland and by extension he always felt in a way he knew so little about himself. There was a hole in his life that couldn't be filled by anything magic, might or the gods had to offer and that was the simple fact that he was always unquestionably alone in Syliras. No family. Not a friend to speak of. Only his name which had taken him years to uncover in and of itself. That left only one question...

"Where is your rider?" He eyed the tall black strider cautiously then turned to the clearing. There was only one place he could be. As quietly as he could, Aoren approached the clearing. His senses picked up on the most imperceptible of things to all but those trained in sensing it: the manipulation of Djed. That made the hairs on the back of Aoren's neck stand up on edge. He swallowed hard. A wizard. Finally he came to the edge of the clearing. He wasn't terribly obscured by the foliage as it was not very dense.

Aoren stood up straight reaching his full height of six feet and three inches. He was in the shadows of the trees so his face was cast in that darkness but he could see the wizard in question. He wasn't certain as to what the man was manipulating but he could sense a disruption in the flow of Djed in the area. From where and for what reason, Aoren wasn't skilled enough to discern that but being a wizard himself he was aware of such fluctuations.

The man was deep in meditation from the look of him. Aoren could only make out a small amount of his features as he was sitting at an angle away from his direct line of sight.

"Well Aoren...this could end in a good way or with you very,very sore and possibly dead." He spotted the man's sword and frowned. The way he kept it on his person spoke that he at least knew how to use it. So there Aoren stood. Uncertain as to whether he should follow his natural instincts while out in the wilderness and certain of only one thing...

Right now, anything was possible.

[Crypt]

I should probably be getting back now. But this place's quite peaceful... Even the birds are coming back. I hear their chirping. Just a little more, Crypt. Just a few more minutes. The hairs on the back of Crypt's neck. His ears twitched, sensing the sound of leaves and twigs Maras' and Crypt's head snapped up at the same instant, and both stared at Aoren, eyes unblinking. The tension was so thick - one could cut it with a dining knife. The duo remained in the same position for a minute before Crypt suddenly burst into laughter. Maras went back to grazing in the patch of clover, and Crypt got up from his lotus position, grinning wildly at Aoren. “Welcome, mage, to my humble clearing. 'Tis but a simple place for me to gather my thoughts every evening. You are welcome to share this place, if you do not cause too much noise and distract me from my pursuits. I am Crypt, and this is my Strider, Maras. I have only meagre talent in a few arts, so do not look to me for guidance.”

[Aoren]

Aoren watched the display before him as both the strider and the meditating man's heads snapped up and the man suddenly burst into laughter. For a moment Aoren seriously considered simply turning around and leaving. He arched an eyebrow slightly then stepped more clearly into the light of day. He inclined his head to the stranger.

To the casual observer Aoren might have been quite an intimidating sight. Tall, broad shouldered and obviously athletic. There was a stoic and grim set to his jaw. His eyes were a bright cobalt blue that held to them a distance at times that made one question whether or not he was truly seeing the world around him or something more. Contrasted with his dark mahogany hair he could indeed make others give pause for thought.

"Well met, Master Crypt. I am Aoren. I too come to this clearing every so often to gather my thoughts and practice what I cannot among the larger populace of Syliras." He inclined his head to the strider then turned his attention back to the man before him.

"Everyone has guidance to offer, Master Crypt. Perhaps not in the way that most would think but rather in the ways that we do not." He managed a slight smirk then cast his gaze to the strider again seemingly utterly fascinated with the great beast.

"He is a real Strider then?" Truth be told Aoren had never seen one this close before. He glanced at Crypt then entered the clearing a bit more before depositing his pack onto the ground. He adjusted his grip on his quarterstaff. It was more of a rhetorical question than anything else and he didn't wait for confirmation from Crypt.

"So you are from Cyphrus?" The way in which he posed the question held an almost desperate hope to it.

[Crypt]

“Aye. The Knights would harrass us. Call me not Master; I do not deserve that title yet.” Aoren. Uncommon name, but with names like Elzifar or Kyarni, everything uncommon is now common. Crypt spoke again, his voice overlaid with a smooth and slow tone. “That is... true, Aoren. One never knows all that he can truly accomplish. I aim to fully understand and fully control my body, in order to discover myself. Yes, Aoren. A Cyphrus Strider, born and bred through, direct descendant of Zulrav and Semele.” Crypt watched with some curiousity as Aoren appeared to grow more agitated. Crypt's eyes could see Aoren gripping his quarterstaff, and he instantly became more alert, though on the outside he remained the same. “Of course, my friend. I am born of Drykas female and Human male, though I am considered to be equal to a pure Drykas as Maras here has chosen me. A Drykas worth his windmarks never strays far away for long periods of time from his Strider. Why do you ask so? Crypt pushed back the sleeves of his shirt, revealing more of the intricate patterns and words covering his arm, terminating at both his wrists. The ink in which they were drawn in was pure black, though rivers of green and blue ran down his upper limbs, imitating his veins.

[Aoren]

"You are very fortunate then. Do you...would mind very much if I asked for news of Cyphrus?" He quirked his head to the side and some of the tension in his shoulders eased away. He knelt down and reached into his pack withdrawing nothing more than a journal, a bottle of ink and a quill pen. Folding his legs beneath him he set his staff across his lap then picked up the leather bound book.

"I am Drykas or at least that is what the caretakers at the home where I grew up told me. The only proof I have is the make of the necklace that I have carried all my life, their word and the word of strangers." He reached into his vest and withdrew a silver chain upon which hung a single gemstone that was slightly blue in color but crystal in appearance. He ran his fingers over the perfectly smooth tear shaped gem. The top of the stone was encased in silver that bore the signature knot work that was so unique to Drykas culture.

"No artisan I've taken it to can tell me what the stone is. They say it is neither a crystal nor a sapphire. The caretakers at the home said I was dropped off by a man bearing windmarks with eyes just like mine." He shrugged. "I've been searching for pieces of my past ever since." He pondered for a moment then gave a soft laugh.

"Sorry. I did not mean to ramble on so. I merely jump at the chance to hear news of Cyphrus and I don't run into a great many Drykan people this far away from my supposed homeland."

Aoren was silent for a moment before he swallowed hard.

"I'm not bothering you if I ask am I?"

[Crypt]

“No, no, of course not.” Crypt replied cheerily. Crypt watched him sit down and take out a gemstone on a golden chain. Hmm. I've never seen that kind of jewel before. That's to be expected - it's not as if I'm a Master at jewelry, eh? Still, that's a pretty trinket to be gifted with. A Drykas definitely had worked on that. Impressive carving, one of the more familiar patterns back home. This... Drykas was left in Syliras? Crypt nodded his head in sympathy. “I was last in Endrykas about 2 years back, Aoren, so I can't say much about what's happening over there currently or what there is. But I'll try my best.” Crypt took a deep breath. “I don't know much about what happens in Endrykas, but here's what I remember. Every Fall, without fail, a Fall Hunt is organised. Drykas hunt and vie for the best prey in the Sea of Grass, and the victor is decided at the end of Fall. Quite often the winner comes from the Diamond Clan, who are warriors and hunters, but anyone from the other clans can join. Endrykas itself is a migrating tent-city; we travel across Cyphrus with the seasons in a fixed route, as far as I can remember. Towards the end of Fall, they will be moving near the Eyktol-Cyphrus border, and will be the furthest away from Sylira. In Spring we move near Riverfall, where we trade with the blue-skinned Akalak warriors. Then in summer, Endrykas is closest to Syliras, being near the border. If you wish to visit it then, Summer would be your best bet. However, if you have never lived in Cyphrus, a Drykas guide would be your best bet. You won't get lost in the grasses as easily, and the Web will allow the Ankals to determine who you are and perhaps send someone to guide you back.”

[Aoren]

"That's more recent news than I've heard in quite a while." He smiled and gave a nod picking up his quill he dipped it into the inkwell and positioned it on the page to begin writing. The moment that Crypt began to speak of Endrykas the young man started to scribble words onto the blank paper within the book.

Aoren always took notes on whatever he learned about his homeland. In his twenty three years he had only ever left Syliras once and that had ended horribly so he was hesitant to travel too far from the city. The more he learned about the rest of the world out there though the more he wanted to travel and see all of it. Even the breeze that was rustling through the trees, the growing chirp of the birds, the ruckus of the bugs making their never ending noises was a call to him to explore and see the world around him in a new perspective.

Aoren furrowed his brow a few times as he puzzled out how to spell a few words that Crypt spoke. He was unfamiliar with them though he had heard them before. When Crypt had finished telling his tale he pondered for a moment.

"What is an Ankal?" He blinked at the dark haired man nothing but idle curiosity in his eyes. He'd asked a traveler the same question once before but they had only been annoyed with his endless questions. Aoren had learned to curb his curiosity since then. What little he knew of the language his people spoke was only enough to get by in minimal conversation at best. "Ankal" however was never a word that had come up.

"Where would I find a Drykas guide and uh..." He hesitated for a moment. "Were you very familiar with any of the Diamond Clan?"

[Crypt]

Crypt made a few hand notions, trying to express the concept of a Ankal in Pavi before he realised that Aoren would probably not be able to understand him fully. “You've never heard of an Ankal before? Oh dear,” Crypt muttered, shaking his head, “'Tis one of the more important roles, some might say most important, to play in a pavilion. An Ankal is most simply the head of a pavilion. He settles all disputes and makes most, if not all, decisions on what the entire pavilion is to do. It's quite hard being one; my mother's brother, that is to say, my maternal uncle is now the current Ankal of the pavilion I belong to - the Whitemane pavilion. The Ankal must know how to interpret and input information from and into the Web of Cyphrus, and with that skill he is able to tell where any of us are at any given moment and the location of Endrykas.” Crypt started to fiddle with a small peddle, rolling it from hand to hand. “I know the Diamond clan very well, Aoren. One must surely know his own clan like the back of his hand, eh? My mother came from the same Clan, and she was a strong warrior, well-versed in the art of the Longbow, but when she met my father... Well, let's just say he could tame her even while unconscious.” Crypt chuckled.

[Aoren]

Aoren understood only the most basic concept of what Crypt was trying to impart in the Drykan language of Pavi. He was not a stranger to his native tongue but growing up in Syliras left little room for him to both learn and practice it. What little he did know was from constant observation of those who practiced the language and ceaseless questioning of those he could convince to teach it to him. It had earned him many a swat on the head or annoyed look from the would-be teacher.

"I see. So they're sort of like the patriarch of the family?" He nodded as understanding sank in. Those he had met in the past had never had a reason to explain the hierarchy of a clan. Aoren had never taken much of an interest in it. His questions had always been geared more toward the environment. What was it like in Cyphrus? Those were things he had wanted to know. As he'd grown older though now his thoughts were turning to the family that he might have in his homeland. Especially now that he was alone in Syliras.

"You're very lucky." He spoke with a note of pain in his voice but it was quickly masked by his next question. "If you're familiar with the Diamond clan then..." He hesitated a moment then shook his head pressing forward. "...have you heard of the Skycrown family?"

Aoren's deep blue eyes searched the planes of Crypt's face with a small spark of hope within them. Only one of the travelers he'd ever come across had heard of his family and had even made the connection. They had said it was because of his likeness to his father. Though he didn't know the man's name and they had refused to say more on the subject.