Location [Syliras Location] Kova's Wishing Well

[Dusk]

As he made his promise, the ghost stared up at him with those wide gray eyes. And then suddenly - she smiled. Not the sweet, simple dent in the corner of her mouth that she'd blessed him with thus far, but a dazzling grin that was almost too much for a mortal mind to bear. The expression utterly transformed her, and her skin glowed like a paper lantern, glorious and impossible to look away from. It should have burned to have her light blazing across him, through him, but instead it felt like cool water against fevered skin, smooth and refreshing and utterly perfect. And I will always be waiting for you, she said, her voice reverberating inside his head though her mouth never moved, as it never did when she spoke to him. But as before, she took his face in her hands and tilted her own face up to his, and then those smiling lips were pressed to his - and joy, pure and sweet and intoxicating, swept through his body as if he'd been struck by lightning, a wild and living thing that sparked against his bones and sizzled in his blood as if it needed to touch every last fiber of him before it would be done. She drew back, and the light beneath her skin ignited the world, making everything fade into blinding white. Everything but her perfect, smiling face. Then her lips parted, and moved in a hypnotic pattern so enthralling that it seemed to take a full heartbeat's time between when she spoke and when the words reached his ears. "Ash'eny..." Dark and sultry, emeralds buried in the earth, was his name on her tongue. It drowned out everything, made life and death no more than mere words on a page. As it rang through his head like cathedral bells, the bright light of her presence finally overtook her, blinded him, flashing incandescence that left spangles of color dancing before his eyes. When he finally regained his senses, he would find himself sprawled on his back beside the well in the small patch of grass just a foot or two away from it. His cloak was curled up and pillowed beneath his head as if a loving hand had rearranged him, making sure he was comfortable, watching over him. I will always wait for you, a voice whispered, as if echoing back from the dream he'd just abandoned.

[Gareth Brock]

Day 21 of Spring, 511AV


It was midday in Syliras and the sun found the squire Gareth toiling, as he often was on any given hour. A funny thing, being a squire. Dare to look unburdened and you would find yourself quickly 'of use' and ordered about some task. It didn't help when you had Gareth's last name either, but all squires were really subject to these things. The only difference between them and him was that some of his peers had learned the very useful skill of managing to look busy on a moments notice. Gareth had not.

So, when some knight or other came clanking their way through the halls of the citadel, who would stick out but Gareth twiddling his thumbs in his immaculate armor? Pristinely polished chainmail was another thing that seemed to draw their ire, as though it meant someone wasn't working very hard if they looked clean. A smarter man than Gareth might simply stop keeping himself so clean, but, to him, being raggedy-looking would be an even bigger annoyance than the occasional chores. It was a habit drilled into him all his life, after all.

The chore had been to make his way to the Butcher's shop to pick up some good cutlets, but Gareth couldn't even remember the name of the knight he was doing this for. Had he even given it? Some of the busier knights tended to forget things like introductions, politeness, or the distinction between pages and squires. Why couldn't he just be a knight already?

Of course it was then that Kova's Wishing Well caught his eye. He stopped immediately, an idea dawning across his face.

"How convenient." He said aloud, then looked around to make sure no one had heard him.

The Well was so ordinary looking, but yet there was not a resident of Syliras that didn't know of it. Well, that Gareth had met, anyhow. A strange and mystic place, with tales of a ghost woman that grants some wishes. But really, what were the odds she'd appear here and now? And who knew how overblown the stories of her appearances were? A ghost living in a well, granting wishes... it was the silliest thing he'd ever heard. As silly as a talking tree.

The squire walked over to the well and tried to look casual, succeeding in looking anything but casual. He fished around in one of the pouches cinched to his belt and pulled out a Gold Miza.

"I wish I was a mighty knight, vanquishing evil and... and..." He turned the coin over in his hand, trying to think. Eventually he muttered, "Blazes, I don't know. This is a waste anyhow."

Then he flicked the glittering coin and watched as it flew up through the air and then down into the well's darkness. It panged off one stone side and then was gone forever. Nothing. Why hadn't he used a copper miza instead?

ooc-1 GM

[Archon]

As the sound of the coin splashing into the water reached Gareth so too did another sound. That of small children giggling and playing. It seemed to come from everywhere, but yet nowhere at the same time. As the giggling filled the air the temperature seemed to drop a little, like Syna had been hidden by a cloud, but there was no such cloud. Slowly the sound of giggling quieted and focused, until it was just the sound of a little girl giggling right next to the Squire. When he turned to look he would find the faint, ghostly image of a little girl, probably around eight years old, standing next to him and giggling. She wore a simple cloth dress, and her brown hair was done in pigtails that stretched out to her shoulders. The features of her face were dull, gray, and childlike, but her eyes were a deep green, like a field of grass, as she turned her attention away from the well and up towards Gareth. Smiling up at him in the sweet and innocent manner of a child she asked, "Hello Mister, will you play with me? Please?"

[Asara Willow]

Summer 18th, AV 511

Asara had been to this Well once before, in late Spring, and yet her thoughts had constantly been drawn to it in the days since. While at night, her mind wandered the sleepless paths of the stars and their eternal lives in Zintila's grace and Leth's lovely light, her daylight hours were fraught with restlessness and the desire to return to the well to give something to the spirit that human had said lived there.

Of all the faults of humans, Asara felt like the one who's spirit inhabited the Well was one of purer blood, of a noble and much more compassionate stock. She could not hate a kind human, she could only fear their rage at her appearance.

Now, in the darkness of a silent night, Asara returned to the Well. The waxing moon illuminated her long white hair, silvering it completely, and her eyes flashed pale silver in Leth's light. In the bag slung on her back Asara carried her flute, two apples, and a small amount of mizas in her wallet. She had come tonight for the comfort of the Well, for the feeling that someone who didn't dislike her would listen to her and feel sympathy. She didn't want the cool appraisal of Dhalvasha tonight, nor the soft whispers of Seven, even if she knew where he was. She didn't require the Sea, and the stars felt so remote, so very distant.

Asara came to the rim of the Well and turned her gold eyes down to peer into its depths. The last time she was here, she had stolen mis-aimed coins that she had been informed belonged to the spirit of Kova. She'd felt remorse for that action, the only time she had ever experienced such a thing, but she put the coins back. She felt that she had to, especially if they were the wishes of others.

The Symenestra removed her backpack and placed it on the side of the Well. She took out two gold mizas from her purse and closed her eyes, holding the coins in her pale hand as she made her wish, said her prayer.

She wanted to belong. To find peace in this new life, the only life she would probably ever know. She no longer desired her memories to return, she only wanted her new ones to be wonderful and filled with friends. Her wish was for that, for it all. One could say it was for her happiness.

Asara released the coins and listened for the splash of their weight striking the water. When it came, she smiled. She removed her flute next and leaned against the wooden support for the Well's water bucket contraption. She had been trying to teach herself the flute for a well now, finding the music comforting even if it made no sense and was difficult to create. She wanted to play here at the Well, at the quietest hour she could find. She knew she'd find it calming, especially without the human presence mainly around the Well, and she hoped the spirit here would find it comforting as well.

[Archon]

For a time nothing but Asara's attempt to play the flute filled the air, but after a couple chimes another soft sound joined it. It took Asara some time to pick up on it, but when she finally did notice it she realized it was the sound of someone crying softly. The sound was coming from behind her, and if Asara turned to look she would find the transparent form of a woman sitting on the edge of Kova's Well. Her back was to Asara, feet dangling into the well, and thus all the Symenestra could see clearly was the woman's naked back and black hair that fell to her waist. The woman's skin was pale, almost as pale as Asara's, and the glimpses of her back from between the darkness of her hair showed prominent scars crossing back and forth over almost every inch of her skin. As the woman continued to cry softly she placed her hands on the edge of the well and leaned forward, apparently peering down into the inky depths below. Her pale arms were just as scarred as her back, and the skin around her wrists were red and raw. Her movement also afforded Asara a view of the woman's face, which was soft and beautiful, without a single scar that she could see. The woman hadn't seemed to notice Asara yet, and simple stared down into the darkness of the well and cried softly. Despite the sorrow of her cries Asara could tell she had a beautiful voice, so warm and melodious that even her crying held a tinge of beauty to it.

[Asara Willow]

Asara lowered her flute at the sound of soft crying and shivered instinctively, turning around to try to pinpoint the sound. She beheld, etched in the soft light of Leth, a brutally scarred woman. A twinge of fear spiked through Asara's chest at the terrible scars on the arms and back of the woman, who's pale skin seemed even softer than Asara's between the horrible wounds.

And then she saw the woman's face and her eyes widened. Humans never reached this level of beauty, and even in sadness the woman's face and voice had a fell loveliness around it, as though Leth were granting her his own fairness, or as though Zintila had taken pity on a beaten girl.

Asara was about to greet the woman, but then a sharp thought told her not to... The woman was human. Asara smothered that thought, knowing that the human woman was in no condition to attack her for being Symenestra. She was still wary though as she placed her flute down next to her and leaned over to touch the human's shoulder gently. A chill ran up her spine at just the light touch but she didn't understand why.

"Hello..? Are you okay? What is wrong?" She whispered in the soft voice she possessed.

[Archon]

Asara's fingers felt nothing but cold as she reached to touch the woman's shoulder, and as the tips of her fingers passed through the woman's shoulder the cold grew even stronger and painful. It seemed attempting to touch the woman would only result in pain, and possibly even injury with how cold it was. Asara's voice halted the woman's crying, and slowly she turned her beautiful, flawless, face towards the Symenestra. The woman's soft and full lips were painted a deep crimson, and her eyes were a warm golden brown color. Her eyes gazed at Asara's face for several silent moments, almost half a chime, and then she softly spoke in a voice that seemed more fit for a divine being than any mortal, "Please... Please help me. Won't you please help me? It's all wrong, and I can't go on until it's fixed. Won't you help me?" As she spoke the woman turned to face Asara, her legs passing through the side of the well as she did, and Asara could see that not only was the woman completely naked, but the rest of her body was heavily scarred as well. From the tops of her feet, along her long legs, over her pleasantly curved torso, and only ending at the base of her neck. Despite their prevalence the scars were not uniform in their origin apparently. Some were thin and smooth, while others were rough and more rounded. Whatever had happened to this woman it would have been painful, and have taken place over a long period of time.

[Alcore Silver]

Day 17 of Fall 511 AV --- Alcore approched Kova's well leaned over the side and bowed his head. Closing his eyes he said "I'm sorry about your death, please take these silver mizas." He tossed two silver mizas into the well hearing them splash as they hit the water. He wished only to know how the spirt of the well had died.

[Alisha]

Post had been moved to... here.

[Rion Whitestone]

Spring 20th, 514 A.V. As a child, Rion had heard of Kova's Well from his father a few times. He even knew a few people that had been there and one who'd claimed to have seen the spirit inside. But it wasn't until now that he decided to see it for himself. As part of his little tour of Syliras, he wanted to see if he could summon the ghost himself. Or if it was just a hoax made by some money grubbing con man. When Rion arrived at the stone well, he didn't immediately find anything unusual. It looked pretty old, but there wasn't much to it besides that. Looking inside, he saw cool waters filled to the brim with people's money, but he still didn't see anything supernatural about it. "Maybe if I make a wish it'll show up," Rion thought. "It is called a wishing well after all." Reaching into his belt pouch, Rion was about to drop in a gold miza when a thought suddenly occurred to him. "What if this is a one time thing? Better not wish for anything stupid like money. But what would be good enough for this?" Looking up to the sky in thought, Rion began to turn ideas over in his head, but his mind simply couldn't settle for anything. Instead, he decided to be direct with the wish. "Why not just make a wish to see the spirit?" And that's exactly what Rion did. Dropping the coin in the well, Rion said "I wish I could see the spirit in this well" and waited to see what would happen.