Closed [Whispering Tunnel] Reunion (Zandelia)

[Ana Sol Starris]

The laughter caught Ana off gaurd, riled her up into a flurry of rage at the woman for having of laughed, metaphorically speaking her feathers had been ruffled terribly. Immediately she ceased whatever she had wanted to do when Zandelia began to apologize, fiddling with her fingers and now glaring at her hands darkly. The jolt had been enough to wake her up, wide awake enough to listen to the woman; eyes glancing at the dagger which Zandelia had taken out. Ana's eyes narrowing at the gold, catching her eye before the blade had, and most certainly before the look on Zandelias contemplative gaze upon it. Gold meant fortune. Fortune meant cash. Yet she held her morals in high regards, stealing from those she called friends was an act worst than death, in her eyes- to betray a friend and steal their livlihood did not warrent death, but torture, pain, and misery for having of been so greedy. T'was why she had never filched the entireity of Wrenmaes former Sunberth apartment, it was why the Crimson camps remained untouched by her hands. No, not because of the threat that came along with such a deed afterwards, a mark upon her head, she just didn't believe in taking things from people that had been good to her. In that sense they gave her more than she could have ever taken on her own, and then just left. Ana took the dagger lightly, examining it just as Zandelia had while she listened; eyes narrowing at the word 'father', how she despised that word. Her story was sad, and the longer she listened, the more Ana felt as if their circumstances were very similar. Of course Ana's own was much lighter, her father had only abused her family because of heavy drinking, her father had murdered two of her siblings and ran her own mother into the ground. All in the same house- and hopefully he was still alive in Zeltiva, just hopefully... Ana gripped the hilt of the dagger tightly, calm impassiveness taking over, curiousity flickered in her eyes at Zandelias harsh barkish laugh when she mentioned Brega. Staring at the woman, her eyes travelled to the blind one lightly before drifitng away from it.. Ana knew how it was like to not like it when people stared at something such as a scar. Her hand absentmindedly brushed her cheek, the one which was cleverly hidden by her hair with its overly long side bang. The scar there was fading, Ana could have said it was from a bar fight, but it was actually from a broken whiskey bottle her father had accidently broke and thought the idea would be great to smack his youngest daughter in the face with it in a fit of his own self induced hilarity. Once again, Sinvelt had came in and saved the day, he had instead taken her beating. Her gaze went back to the blade, salty tears fell down and she attempted to catch the watery droplets with her free hand. Blinking. She stared at the moisture on her hand now as more, and more droplets rained down. Ana knew exactly how Zandelia felt, both of them once had a person in their life that was very important, to Zand it was her mother, and to Ana it was her brother. The only difference in both important family members deaths was that Sinvelt had died trying to convince her father to let him take her to Mura with him, but he needed the funds. How she should have listened to him, she shouldn't of have let her curiosity get the better of her. Ana shook her head, and set the dagger down with a small clang, covering her face. She remembered it all too well; she was still that little child. There was so much she wanted to say to Zandelia in that moment, but she just couldn't, she felt sick to her stomach over the conversation and it wasn't helping now that she was emotionally derailed over simple, sad stories.

[Zandelia]

Zandelia had finished her tale of woe, leaving almost nothing out of the telling at that – a first for her. It was curious to think that she spent her life trying to find out what others knew and withholding her own knowledge, only to give some of her most precious information to a woman whom had treated her coldly at first. Ana knew her past now, or the skeleton of it. She had expected the other to leave shortly after hearing it divulged, a mere tool she could use against Zandelia as and when became appropriate. She had been prepared for anything Ana could throw at her, but looking at her to see tears was something she had never expected. She looked aside quickly, trying to keep her own tears at bay, vainly.

What a pair we make, to survive the rigors of Sunberth with not a tears shed only to undone by words she thought as the situation became rapidly uncomfortable, her wrist brushing away wetness from her own cheek.

She picked up her dagger, wiping it upon her Shadowsilk robes to clear it of moisture before slipping it back into its boot sheathe. She gripped her legs, rocking slightly a few times as she wondered if Ana would even let her touch her, her heart crying out to lavish comfort – if only for a short time. What had started as an argument had ended with cohesion, an understanding that transcended what mere words could have given. Their stories were not powerful because of what they held but because of what they represented. She gingerly stretched out her arm and put it around Ana’s shoulder, so small and fragile she seemed – akin, bones and a lot of hidden bitterness. When Ana did not resist she merely pulled her head into her chest and held it there.

She knew what the value of grieving could bring. Release…for a time.

“It’s okay…Ana,” she told the other as a small streak of sorrow caresses her own cheek and crept down to her chin, “it’s okay. We’re alive and that means we still have the ability for vengeance – if that is what you want” she whispered, her own body beginning to shake a little with repressed chokes.

“I know I do…” her words trailed off as her emotions got the better of her.

If only things had been different, if only I had had a better start in life. I’m not evil, I just have nothing to fight for anymore. Nothing but hatred and unraveling of that bastard’s secrets! she found herself lamenting, focusing it into rage before it could go further into depression.

She did not know how long they stayed like that but it felt like an age and she knew that, whatever their paths would wander into in the future, they would have at least that moment of unity. Her fingers shook, her breathing was ragged, her muscles painful from involuntary convulsions. She could not tell if Ana had stopped crying or not, but she didn’t care. It would take as long as it took to ease away, ebbing into the ether once again from whence it had come.

“I remember you calling me mother, you know,” she spoke softly into the winds surrounding them, “when you were ill. I was scared you would be shattered, but now I can see you would never have been. You are stronger than that, perhaps more than you think” she continued, her arms still around the other.

“I will help you, however I can. I ask nothing in return. If I can exorcise another’s pain over mine then I at least will have achieved something. Something worthwhile. I have yet to able to have that to my name” she finished, listening to the winds in silence.

[Ana Sol Starris]

Ana didn't flinch when she felt Zandelias hand on her shoulder, the small woman expected no violence, they were both rather spent it seemed. Emotionally, for both, but more so physically for Ana- if she weren't bloody petching tired all the time she might have been able to have kept the stitches sewn tight together still. Yet here she was, emotions unravelling like a ball of yarn, the cat being her heart, batting said ball around until it was nothing more than a long string of truthes and lies mixed in. Fictious, and factual, knowledge and opinion. Thought, and dream, ect. She didn't resist the hug, even if her skin began to crawl, saying she was far too close.. Such worries fell on deaf ears for once. Ana seemed to take her hands away from her face and hug Zand lightly with one arm, relaxing into the embrace, her watering eyes drooping as she fought for conscienceness. Zandelias words were the only reason she hadn't drifted away, they kept her awake and fighting, what would happen if she were to fall asleep? Ana couldn't think of anything too good about that, let alone the worry Jakobi might have gone through. Revenge was simple, Ana wouldn't have to be the one to kill her father, just as long as she knew he was dead- gone from the current world so he would harm no more. Yet she couldn't rest peacefully not knowing if he were still alive, being such an old man. Ana wondered how old her own father was, the last time she had seen Gerron, his hair had been greying terribly, and his eyes were full of dark bags, face sunken, the effects alcohal had on someone was devestating. Made them look and appear older than they actually were, but had there been other drugs mixed in? Violence, she couldn't stand it, there was far too much already.. So much suffering. People withered away at either their own hands, or the hands of others. Ana spluttered out as the older womans words came to a close and silence had taken for what could have been chimes, tightening her grip around Zandelia as she would bring her green hand up, eyes following the vibrancy of it to the tips of her fingers "I hail from Zeltiva, not under the name of Ana, but of Neilles... if it means anything.. Zand, you're only the second person to know that now since I left the port city.. That was a very long time ago.." her tears dryed up, her breathing was deep and drawn out, but her mind was set on a resolution: father decimation under the highest caliber, she would help Zand find her own father, and in turn find Ana's perhaps.. But that seemed far off now. It was then that she felt as if she could hear heart beats, how small they were before, but Ana could hear them with her own ears being so close to Zandelias chest. Such an awkward detail to notice after so long of contemplative thought, it was as if the thiefs mind was trying to reassure her that she was not making a grave mistake by pointing out there was still fire inside them both. It was a rhythem that made Ana teeter between sleep and awakeness.

[Zandelia]

With Ana’s head upon her chest, her arms around the girl and hands tussled throughout her fine, delicate hair it was almost too easy to drift away into a sea of safety, a tranquility that transcended physicality and which she had not experienced in an age. She had few memories of her childhood, most of them having been forcibly scoured from her mind by the vicious treatment of her pre-teenage years. Still, in many ways she supposed that she was as close to a sister as Ana had, and Zandelia had never had a sibling but could feel her own bonds to Ana growing in those moments. As the wind whipped her hair about, the impossible task of keeping it in check abandoned now, she wondered whether there were indeed magic’s at work within the Whispering Tunnel.

Anger, hate, compassion, pity, depression, closure…all experienced to varying degrees in one, small, conversation. Small in length, but infinite in its content. Magic, how it is a charming notion she smiled, her lips tasting the salt that had made its way there for her tongue to lap up inadvertently.

It was then that Ana revealed to her something infinitely more precious than trust, worth more than anything in the realms – her name. There was a power to knowing a name, even if it were only the first part of it. People could command you with it, twist your heart with it and ultimately destroy you with it – if they had the mind. It made Zandelia’s single eye flick open and gaze with some warmth upon the top if Ana’s head. She could feel the girl shifting a little, but her thoughts were elsewhere.

“Oh Ana…I mean, Neilles,” she cleared her throat uncomfortably, “you didn’t have to tell me that. Your past is your past, you will always be Ana to me. But…I thank you for the trust you have shown me, it will never be betrayed. I give you my vow, and I never break mine” she told her, words pushing thin strands of Ana’s hair aside with their passing.

I wonder who the other person she told is? Wrenmaa perhaps? He was the closest she had to a brother since, well since arriving in Sunberth. And I’d wager my last Miza that the man who let her live was him too. Makes sense… she thought to herself as she gripped Ana tighter, a small squeeze of affection in physical translation.

She decided not to ask, Ana would tell her in time – if she desired to. It was then that her small fingers appeared before he gaze, stroking past her cheek gently and causing a small shiver to ripple across her flesh as she tried not to jerk away instinctively. She reached out to fumble with the fingers, her mind processing what she saw but not relaying it properly to her yet.

“It means much to me Ana, that you would tell me not only your name but where you come from. Zeltiva is a beautiful city, vibrant and…and…” her words died away as the word ‘vibrant’ finally clicked the last piece of her mental puzzle into place.

“By Akajia’s plump arse! Your fingers! They’re…green? Are you sick again? What caused this?” she asked, her free hand moving from Ana’s palm, tracing the color there and to her forehead now, seeking for signs of illness. She found no fever, nothing untoward at all besides a slight chill –attributable to the winds.

“Are you okay?” she asked, her mind bewildered by what her vision was telling her, the absolute lack of explanation both worrying and mysteriously attractive to her.

She grabbed Ana’s hand again, bringing it closer to her emerald green eye, trying to discern why the hand was green, as if reduced distance alone would give the puzzle’s answer.

[Ana Sol Starris]

Cringing at being called 'Neilles' for the first time, in a very long time, it left bitter memories within its wake but to let her name be known- well it was Ana's own special way of saying 'I trust you, completely' to someone. Mayhaps she was just testing the woman, she kept on vowing things to her, the smaller woman simply had spoken only a few things of herself. Did people really get all that emotional? Would she be able to use this later on to an advantage? Honesty, Ana would never think to betray Zandelia, but the things she learned slowly from this moment- she wondered if she could apply it to people she wanted to intentionally get close to? Her eyes shut closed as everything around her began to swirl, shift, and morph, colors bleeding into eachother as her head spun mentally. Ana could feel it, she could feel herself WANT to sleep but her mind just couldn't let go of the physical attachments around it, she was far too awake within her mind, but her body was suffering. An odd, heavy weight that had started with her limbs, and within her head, slowly intesifyed with every passing chime. Chilling her body, as its internal clock was still in motion despite her being awake- she could only laugh weakly at the older womans words. "Don't worry about it Zandelia.. If I hadn't trusted you, I wouldn't have said.. That could go for the same as.. as.. if we weren't close, I probably would have filched all your belongings from you, and the entire Crimson camps" her voice was quiet, a sharp contrast to earlier from before "I don't steal from those I care about.. I don't desert them.. No matter how awful they may be.. No matter how dangerous their reputation, their status, or for having their own secrets.." Ana meant every little bit of what she had just said, for there were thieves in Sunberth, but they were common rabble "..they say there is no honor among thieves, I'd like to point out there are exceptions to that rule." They had no code, they had no honor; unlike Ana. Still she didn't open her eyes even when Zandelia had gone to feel her forehead, the worry was very evident in her voice over Ana's green hand. All she could do was smile very lightly for a few moments, cracking her eyes open a tad. "It's something I learned," she started off lightly, sleep edging its way into her words with a long winded yawn "it could possibly help you.. change yourself.. If you don't want people looking at you in a perverted way that is if you want to do that." Ana now focused on her green hand again, staring at it intently, she began to pluck her djed strings internally one by one until finally they were strung and directed to her finger tips. The djed flooded the tips of her nails, as she looked for the nearest color that she could, and chose the brown of the trellis and the wood around them. Her fingernails slowly began to bleed into a wooden brown, just in color, but not in property, the entire process was mind numbing, and long, she had little energy and found she could only do three of her free hands fingers. When she cut her djed off, she began to attempt to recolor them as they were before, painfully slowly, pulling out the djed which she felt lingered. Rasping out, she found it quite hard to talk after that "its magic."

[Zandelia]

Zandelia was most intrigued and surprised. She knew what she was seeing, she had an ability all to her own though it was less visually impressive. She could not change the color of her skin, the melting movements entrancing to watch. No, her own meager talent lay in perception of the world rather than the way she was perceived by others. As she watched Ana’s magic at work she focused her own Djed, her eyes beginning to feel both hazy and yet more focused. It took a few moments to gather enough, further seconds slipping by as she sifted through the blazing world around her to focus upon only Ana’s hand – but she managed it. She fancied that she could see hundred of tiny strands pulsate through the woman as the magic was woven.

Interesting she thought as she looked onwards for a few moments more, contemplating the uses she might have for being able to see magic woven, if indeed that was an ability she could learn. She let her powers go gently, though reluctantly, as tiredness set in further. Everything had its price.

“Well, if you stole from me I would just have to welt your rump! But I’m glad to hear it will never be an issue” she responded as she carefully considered her next response.

It was not that she did not trust Ana, or Neilles as her real name held her to be. No, she trusted her enough to tell her of her own magical talents. She knew she might be hunted for it, that it was a weapon waiting to slit her throat in the wrong hands, but she trusted she would not betray her. No, it was more an inbuilt reluctance to share anything that was not absolutely necessary, something she had already ignored the caution of several times in their singular meeting. She turned it around in her mind, the desire to tell and the desire to keep the secret warring with each other brutally – an ideological slaughter. In the end, when the battle ended, she felt that imparting the knowledge to Neilles was better than restricting – she was living on borrowed trust with the woman as it was.

“It is an impressive talent Neilles, very impressive. I’m not sure I would change my figure unless absolutely necessary though, it is a very useful figure,” she smiled to herself a little, “but I can certainly see how it could be useful in…other ways. Best rest now though or I will be forced to get you healed again” she continued.

“Magic holds consequences I hear, or rather, that I know. I have my own magic, though I cannot show it to you. Not here, or now. But, if you would like to see the world in a different light then I would be happy to try and teach you” she looked aside a little then, a small offer of help that nevertheless felt like an exposure.

At least it will be a bargained for secret, I suppose. By the Goddess, I’m starting to sound like my father… she thought, distaste twisting her lips slightly for a few moments.

“I will gladly barter my magic for yours, if you see fit to do so. As for now, I think I’m a bit worn out to try much more than sitting here, with you” she told the other woman, feeling her rest deeper against her torso. She was such a small thing, so seemingly frail. Zandelia had never been a true mother, though she held a soft spot for waifs ad strays – she used them often in her work.

She rested her cheek against Neilles’ hair for a few moments, feeling it brush against her skin. The moment seemed right, and she was always a physical person when it came to emotions. She kissed the other woman, just once upon the forehead.

“’Sleep Ana, I will watch for a while” was all she said.

Tiredness bit at her, seeping into her bones, She needed warm food and a bed before she would be able to do much else than breathe and blink. It was taking its toll on her recently, her second sight skill. Still, it was worth every second of aching sloth. She continued to sit and recuperate her strength, Ana’s warmth filling her body with some semblance of life.

[Ana Sol Starris]

When Ana was sure that her finger nails were the same color as the rest, the way they had been before, she could relax better next to Zandelia. Instinctively she re-wrapped her arms around the older woman, eyes drooped as she listened to Zandelia speak. The thief didn't expect anything in return such as knowledge, or matierial wealth; she just wanted the older womans loyalty. The older woman had been present during the meeting Ana concocted days ago, around 10 perhaps, then Ana had revealed she was keeping contact with Wrenmae. Via the mail system. Ana pondered, would Zand ambush the courier just to read any correspondance between the two? How would she react to know that Ana had already pledged her loyalty to Wrenmae and was now awaiting for his next response? Imparting knowledge of ones self was as great as a trust as Ana could make, she didn't believe in bribing, or buying said loyalty. She had seen it far too often in the markets of Sunberth, where merchants who couldn't pay their gaurds a sufficient amount were ransacked, and most likely killed. Ana had only seen snippets of those bloody times back then, she had always been a lurker, an observer, one to never interact with people because she could not trust them being close. Ana didn't have a weapon back then, or a way to defend herself, she always had to flee, or avoid the situation in the first place. So getting to know said thief was difficult, her paranoia of building personal connections went far back into her first year of Sunberth. Ana tightened her grip, she remembered very loosely of the time, when she had learned her brother had a partner in crime skulking about the murder stained city. The first person to teach her a very good lesson about the city, ended with her becoming a introverted, paranoid, thieving street rat of the alleys. Beyond that- Ana had little recollection of the horror filled, nightmarish nights, running through the streets, fighting for the next meal, and never once had she killed someone. Surprisingly, for being in Sunberth for so long, it almost seemed necessary to have blood on ones hands- but Ana had never taken anyone's life, she had a far too noble fantasy going on in her past mindset.. One of which lingered with her values, and it had all started with a mere book her brother had given her a year before he had died. "I'm not scared to learn magic.. Even if it has risks" Ana stated, somewhat thoughtfully, just then taking in that Zand knew magic as well "you also know magic?" The question was so quiet, she had to glance up at the womans face just to see if she were just kidding with the younger girl. She felt the lips on her head pressing on, making her flinch, it brought a flash of memory searing her eyes to stay shut. T'was simple moments, it had only reminded her of her own mother, she would hug her, and hold her close when her fathers anger became far too fearsome. Did Ana consider Zandelia as a mother figure? The thought was absurdity at its best, but somehow- very plausible. Ana grumbled slightly at being told to sleep, eyes cracking open a smidge as her head dipped in a bit with her body starting to act like it were cuddling, her mind far too active now, as if the small kiss of affection had sent a jolt of electricity through her brain and into her entire system; making her blush somewhat in embarresement. "Fine.. I'll try.. It's hard though.." Ana muttered, hopefully the lightness of her voice passed on to Zandelia's ears. Shutting her eyes, she focused on Zandelia's heartbeat again, her breathing slow, and deep, mind buzzing on the edge of conscienceness, forcing all the thoughts of her head- clearing her mind as best as she could. It possibly took ages for it to work, but her mind finally began to relax, being warm, hugging someone, and slightly happy over the situation- she found herself drifting into the arms of sleep until finally she was dreaming. How long would it take for the nightmares to come?

[Capricious]

Ana Sol Starris

Award

Skill	XP Earned	Lore Earned
Socialization	2	• Zandelia's Story
Philosophy	1	• Zandelia Knows My Real Name
Storytelling	1	• Taking Responsibility is Necessary
Morphing	1	• Lore

Zandelia

Award

Skill	XP Earned	Lore Earned
Socialization	2	• Getting Lost in the Whispering Tunnel
Intimidation	1	• Nagging Thought: Does Ana Blame Me?
Storytelling	1	• Ana Sol Starris's Real Name is Neilles
		• Ana's Story

I really enjoyed this thread, guys! It had everything from crying to fighting to bonding. I like the fact that they trusted each other so little and so much to tell each other their story. With rich description from both of you, I really felt like I was there. I look forward to seeing how their newly strengthened bond affects their future.

If you have any questions or concerns regarding your grade, please send me a PM and we can figure it out.