Completed Blissfully Numb, Understandably Curious

[Juniper Frost]

: : : 86th Day of Spring, 514 AV : : :

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"Loving you is the best thing, and the worst thing..."
Part I

Notes of blissful laughter rolled though the mountain grasses with the warm wind. It was the laughter of happiness and joy, it was the laughter of the inseparable bond of friends and lovers. Those immortal tones danced with the small shrieks and cries of pleasant surprise, awash in the rustle of the grass in a breeze.
Bathing the mountain's tops in its golden syrupy warmth, the sun shone a muted light on the two lovers as they rolled about in the high grass and flowers. Smiles spreading their lips, their laughter was the ideal of their union - it was the promise.

His eyes.

Her laughter rolled to a pleasurable hum, her attention on his eyes. To anyone else his eyes were brown, but to her they were faceted gems that scintillated. Their eyes locked, sharing volumes - no... it was more than what could ever be captured in writing. Juniper smiled as she reached out a pale hand to caress Tristan's fuzzy cheek, but stopped short.

His eyes.

They were no longer brown, nor scintillating gems, nor even describable as eyes any longer. He lay across from her, his face neutral save for the blackness where his brown eyes had once been. It was more than blackness, though, it was not colour at all but rather the lack of colour or anything resembling anything she knew at all. Where his eyes should have been were now two gaping holes into an unfathomable nether.

It stood up in the grasses and Juniper followed, her eyes locked with terror on the thing's face. Its arms slowly raised from his sides in a way that she could only consider being purely unnatural. His hands reached for her, fingers twisted and twisting, and Juniper took an involuntary step back. It reached for her, yet seemed to be further away the more it reached. Her vision blurred, the sight of her tortured lover clouded by fear and desperation. Its hands reached yet never touched. The deepest sound she had ever heard groaned through its parting lips, the horrid and deafening sound seeming to rejoice from breaking free of a cavernous prison. Juniper tried to scream but found her voice falter to a timid whimper, so she hid her face in her hands. The roaring noise filled her ears like the sound of a falling mountain, the warm winds buffeted her hair and her body until she fell to her knees. The world about her spun with her unseeing. Then, in a terrifying instant, it all stopped.

Moments passed. Juniper wept for a while behind the safety of her shielding hands, before finally letting them slowly peel away from her wet face. Horror clasped its withering hands on her chest as she looked on.
There was nothing. No sky full of golden syrup sunlight, no rolling mountain range, no tall grasses, no.... Tristan. There was only one thing that remained, and it was nothing. Nothing yet something.

His eyes.


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[Juniper Frost]

: : : Juniper Frost : : :

86th Day of Spring, 514 AV

"I left the window open..."
Part II

The screaming preceded her wakefulness. Bolting upright in her bed, her sweat soaked blanket peeling off her bare skin, Juniper's lungs still penetrating the early morning with the dirge. The scream soon died, having given up and slowly retreated back into her throat. With great effort, Juniper heaved a handful of deep breaths before relaxing her body and slumping down into the bed, fully exhausted after a full night's sleep.

She lay there for a few minutes, absorbing what she could before it came as it always did in the mornings. She desperately tried to focus on the first half of the dream, tried to convince her shattered mind to dedicate this slip of a good feeling to memory while forgetting the latter half. She shut her eyes and clung to the blanket, digging her long pointed nails into the fabric. She gritted her teeth momentarily, and then her grip on the covering loosened. Her breathing stopped coming in fits, and returned to a normal rhythm. With great care, she slowly opened her eyes and stared at the thatched ceiling. She smiled softly, as if she had never been truly acquainted with the thatch until just now, or as if it were an old friend she had not seen in years. Cold morning air rushed across her bare chest, sending ripples of bumps across her skin. With deliberate movements, she swung from the bed and moved to the opposing wall where she paused and reflected for a long while.

"I must have left the window open," came her soft voice, refusing to volunteer the rawness it felt from screaming.

Standing unabashedly naked at the open window she reached out and grabbed the wooden shutters, pulling them closed before shutting the glass window. Juniper glanced over at the hearth and the remnants of a long cold fire, a sigh escaped her lips and she instead moved to dress herself.

-- -- --

The sound of her front door opening drew Juniper's gaze from her contemplation of the window. Mola Frost, Juniper's mother, rushed into the cottage with worry splayed across her face. Without a word, she moved to Juniper and enveloped her daughter in a strong hug. Juniper smiled contently, and returned the hug for a few moments, until it became obvious that her mother was not letting go.

"My girl... my sweet, tortured girl. I... I..." she trailed off into sobs, wetting Juniper's shirt with tears.

Juniper smiled with understanding for a few moments, allowing her mother to express her feelings while still holding the hug.

"I'm sorry, Juniper," muttered Mola as she pulled back a bit, holding her daughter at arm's length, "I didn't mean to tear up like that. I heard you, is all, and it made me worry."

"You needn't worry or sorry, mother," replied Juniper's silken voice, "I must have dreamed again."

Mola looked over her daughter's face, taking in the near vacant look that was behind her eyes. She stifled a sob of sympathy, opting instead to move aside a strand of Juniper's long white hair.

"Well then, I was planning on surprising you with your tea this morning but I left as soon as I heard you," she gave a light snort before letting a small smile brighten her still-young face, "but I think it better to make it here in stead of at home. Your father will be tending the shop anyhow, and won't be needing me much today as I figure."

"I would love that," said Juniper with a ready grin.

They spent the next half chime setting up tea, opening the shuttered windows, and preparing a late morning meal of assorted sweet berries, rich nuts, and a plate of fried mushrooms and hen eggs. Several people curious about the abrupt scream feigned the role of disinterested passerby as they slowed their strolls in front of Juniper's cottage. Mola gave near every one of them a mixture of reassuring smiles and scathing scowls. Juniper offered a friendly smile, or waved at those she recognized. She was mildly embarrassed at times. She never had a good start to the day when she had been dreaming through the night.

"I left the window open..."

Mola set down the wooden tea cup and looked at her daughter as she continued after a moment's hesitation.

"... I did it without thinking last night, it's as if it slipped my mind. Closing the window, I mean." Juniper sighed without knowing it, looking at the accused window.

"The dreams don't come if I shutter and close all the windows," continued Juniper, "but I forgot one last night."

Moments passed before Mola spoke.

"Drink some of your tea my love, it will help you move on into the day. Speaking of which, what did you have planned for the day? I heard Old Man Regor say yesterday that he was looking forward to talking with you again, something about the 'nature of what makes up knowledge' or some such thing. Maybe pay him a visit later today?" Mola smiled warmly at her daughter, who perked up at the mention of Regor.

"I think I will mother, thank you," she said sweetly, resting her pale hand on top of her mother's more tanned hand.

[Juniper Frost]

: : : Juniper Frost : : :

86th Day of Spring, 514 AV

"On the nature of knowledge..."
Part III

Her skirts danced with the wind as she danced along the paths and roads, her feet rarely touching the stone and dirt. Her hair barely confined to the uniting braids, it swept in with the air currents longing to weave and wave freely. Juniper's face was alight with a beaming smile as she searched for Old Man Regor in his usual corners of Lhavit. Juniper made a short curtsy as she approached a group of robed Autava. Two of the five smiled warmly at the girl, while a third waved her over and bade the group to pause in their trek.

"Mountain and moon, me girl," spoke the approaching Autava with a rich baritone and a thick accent, "you shine with Leth's silver light and tis still only day!" His laugh was as large as a bear.

"Hello, Ysilder! Your words are kind as always," replied Juniper, "and your beard looks luscious!"

Ysilder the Builder flushed with both pride and embarrassment, but quickly dismissed it in favour of turning the attention toward one of his companions.

"Juniper, you have not met this one yet," chuckled Ysilder as he wrapped a large arm around a young Autava, "this is Simon. He's to study under our friend Grivold there." He motioned with his chin at a wiry old Isurian among the group. Juniper's gaze took in Grivold with a smile before looking to the boy.

"H-Hullo, Miss," greeted Simon, obviously flush and shy, "a pleasure t-to meet you."

"Hello Simon, the feeling is mutual," replied Juniper warmly, and continued in a mock hushed whisper "Don't be bothered by Grivold too much, he's rough as stone with his words, but soft like earth with his love of listeners."

Grivold's intense frown threw his face into such a map of wrinkles that it was hard for any of the group to stifle their laughter.

They parted ways a short while after, and Juniper continued her dance through the winding streets.

-- -- --

Spring sunlight brought with it the promise of summer warmth, tantalizing the few spots of bare skin on Juniper. She loosened the sleeves of her linen shirt to let in the cooler breeze as she walked. Her mind wandered with her feet, and she was soon lost in thought without knowing it.

Her dreams were never pleasant. Though not typically terrifying, they were none the less acutely discomforting to both her mind and sanity. They were often vague, clouded, and abstract connections that made little sense to her when she awoke. This last dream was the only time she had dreamt of Tristan, or at least some form of him that was not a half hidden figure in the distance. It did more than terrify her. The dream had tested a deeper resolve that she would have to face later.

The bond of Kelvic and Mate is one that is beyond words, and unless a Human has been a part of that bond they will never truly understand the profound connection. It is more than a connection of minds and bodies, or even of soul and spirit - though many savants, learned thinkers, or priests will say otherwise. It is more than a union of any kind. It is looking in the mirror and not just seeing yourself but loving and understanding a part of yourself that only suddenly became apparent. For a bond between Kelvic and Mate to be severed is for one to lose that new-found part of themselves, like suddenly losing the limbs on your left side. Not quite as tactile as all that, but similar in comparison.

The bond between Juniper and Tristan was not severed, however. It was simply gone, as if it had never existed in the first place. The severing of a bond is traumatic to older Kelvics, at best. At worst, it is fatal. For Juniper, the trauma of the sudden disappearance of Tristan and the bond she shared with him left her reeling with a profound hollowness. The hollowness gave way to the deepest despair, which in turn left her as an empty shell of a woman.

In time she recovered, though she returned a different person. She was only partly returned to the world of Mizahar, with one foot here and another in the security of whatever realm she fled to for refuge from the trauma.

Unbidden, a tear fell from her eye and flew with the winds for a moment before crashing upon the stone path. Juniper stopped her walking, suddenly aware of herself and her surroundings. Her hand touched at her cheek just below the eye. Her smile remained, though it was a confused smile. She hummed curiously while blinking a few times, and slowly continued down the road.

She found Regor at the Wishing Bridge, just outside of Lhavit proper.

-- -- --

Regor was a portly old man with a lavishly long beard of grey and white. He robed his body in simple linens and adorned his fingers with ink stains and paper cuts rather than gold and silver. His eyes sparkled with the light of deep understanding and bespoke a playful nature. He was slightly bowed, his once tall body showing the slow change of his many decades of life. Regor's balding dome of a head was ringed with a half circle of white hair that he swore would never grow back if he shaved it off. Regor was an educated Autava, though no one of particular import in the workings and dealings of the Lhavitian politic or educatum.

His contented smile broadened, threatening to take in his ears at the sight of Juniper skipping towards him. When she was at arm's length, his smile vanished and he raised a hand for silence.

"What would water want would its wants were worthy?" he whispered, barely audible above the sound of the drying stream under the Wishing Bridge.

"To be the tree and the leaf! Why, wouldn't thee?" came Juniper's reply, a giggle hiding behind her soft voice.

Old Man Regor frowned in mock disappointment.

Juniper rolled her eyes, smiling at his mild disapproval.

"Water's wants weave with wonder, wearing wistful wishes whilst washing wayward, wantonly. Water wearily wants worth." She finished with a bow, flourishing her skirt to the side. Regor beamed his appreciation. Word games were one of his favourite things in life.

A small silence filled the air around them for a while as Juniper joined Regor at the task of leaning against the bridge's rail, the both of them breathing in the surroundings. Juniper spoke first.

"How does one know what story a dream tells?"

"What is it to know that it is a dream?" quipped Regor, his eyes remaining closed as he basked in the light that broke through the canopy overhead.
The silence returned for a while, and Juniper thought about his question in the silence.

"To know that it is a dream is to know that it is not real?" she questioned.

"Then what is real, my dear Juniper, is what happens when we are not dreaming?"

"I think so."

"What is to say we are not dreaming right now?"

"It doesn't feel like a dream."

"So feeling is what comprises reality?"

Juniper smirked, knowing the accepted reply for that question, and shook her head lightly.

"No, feeling is a sign of reality but it does not make it."

Regor remained impassive, though Juniper felt the approval in his silence.

"So what is a dream? You feel when you are awake, yet do not dreamers speak of feeling whilst dreaming? Does this mean that when dreaming, a dreamer is not also in a reality of sorts?" Regor opened one eye and regarded Juniper.

The silence returned, but this time at Juniper's beckon.
It lasted for several minutes, until Regor realized that Juniper was lost to him in the realms of her own mind and thoughts. He smiled and laid a weathered old hand on her shoulder, gripping it gently with appreciation and understanding. He would continue the conversation with her another time, when she returned from where-ever she went.

[Juniper Frost]

: : : Juniper Frost : : :

86th Day of Spring, 514 AV

"The curiosity of a ghost, the cowardice of a thief..."
Part IV

Words whispered through haze and distance.
The misty haze was one of displacement that overcame Juniper from time to time, a near catatonic state where she was most vulnerable. The words came, made themselves known, and soon left with their accompanying sounds. Other sounds drifted through her blurred awareness: the muted chirping of birds; the dull roar of the waterfalls nearby; the distant sounds of patterns like footsteps or laughter. For two bells Juniper stood on the bridge, staring out at nothing in particular.

The majority of Lhavit's citizens were familiar with Juniper and her 'condition', understanding that it was best to leave her be until she returned. Several individuals and many pairs of lovers came to the bridge to cast off their painted wishes, mostly paying her no mind. Many, however, whispered to ears hidden by hands about the strange woman, while fewer mocked and laughed at her openly. A small horde of children ran across the bridge at one point, with a handful stopping to poke or pat her to ensure she was alright. The curiosity and care of children is nothing short of genuine. The sun reached its zenith. The light's warmth reached through Mizahar, melting snow and ice, warming cool water and stone, and giving life to the planet. The ice that locked Juniper as a prisoner in her own cold cavern would not melt, though. The sun would never reach her there.

-- -- --

She was alone. No one else had been on the bridge in near ten minutes, though that was no guarantee. Her milky white skin gave him pause, spontaneously considering another course of action, but he knew his boundaries and his needs.

Twist "Wrist" Smithson may have been a low cur of a man, but that didn't make him anything more than a lowly thief. Lhavit was rich with rarity, and it made the life of a good thief that much more entertaining and prosperous. For Twist the Wrist, the pale woman on the bridge was an easy mark. She had been there for more than two hours, and didn't seem to notice anything about her surroundings. The only thing that kept Twist from going in earlier was the handful of Shinya who decided that the Wishing Bridge was a great spot to relax for an hour. Not so, anymore.

Giving his thick brown curls a ruffle, he smirked to himself and set down the path toward the lone woman with the skyglass comb in her hair. While likely common here, the comb would fetch him a nice price in a week when he left Lhavit for pastures with more gold than kina.

-- -- --

There was no fanfare or explosions to mark her return to reality. She was hardly conscious of being absent anyway, so it was with a blink of her blue eyes that Juniper returned to attention. Her smile faded as she shifted her feet and stretched her shoulders. Something did not feel quite right in the air. Juniper gave an absent minded sniff at the breeze, as if she were the fox and not the woman. Something tickled at the back of her mind like a memory of a chore that needed to be done, or in this case akin to the hairs rising at the back of her neck.

The sounds of approaching feet had Juniper's head turning to face them. She smiled a warm half smile at the approaching man, and let her right hand drop to her side while leaving the left resting on the bridge's rail. He was shrouded in mottled clothes that seemed to blend with leaf and stone, and his face was half hidden under a hood. This nagged at the feeling of unease in Juniper's stomach, picking at it like a scab, yet she still offered a smile. The breeze strengthened and caught the man's hood, revealing a flash of a mix of dark and light brown hair. In the time it took to blink once more, Juniper's nagging feelings were pushed to the side while making room for the strongest anxiety and curiosity she had felt in a while. Under that hair was a face she knew more intimately than she knew anything in this life.

-- -- --

He panicked. Why had Twist's luck suddenly changed? She hadn't registered anything of the last two hours, not even the screaming and yelling runts that stampeded through. Yet the moment he came within reach, she seemed to lose whatever held her back and she looked at him. No, not at him - through him. He immediately - and surprisingly - lost his nerve. He panicked still as he passed her by on the bridge, making for the other side.

Reaching the stones of the path at the end of the bridge, Twist the Wrist took a shallow breath to try and ease the unease he felt. It didn't work. He turned slightly, trying to get a look behind him as he walked around a slight bend in the path. Twist nearly yelled in surprise when he saw her not ten paces behind and following, her crystal blue eyes locked on him. He snapped his head forward and increased his pace, cursing his luck twice.

-- -- --

Her heart raced and ached in agonizing union as she followed him up the path. Reason and emotion rejoined in an age old battle, sending Juniper into a turmoil she could not afford to abate at the moment. She hurried after him as he increased his pace.

It can't be him, she thought to herself, gripping the shirt cloth at her chest, I would know. I would know. I would know.

Juniper trailed the cloaked man up into Zintia, always seeming to be a step behind him. She tried to follow his erratic movements as he wove through the complex network of hallways, roads, and side passages, finally spotting him easily for the first time in almost ten minutes. He was at the end of a long passage that ended at a large door, one that he was silently muttering curses at as he tried to open them. One side of the passage was decoratively opened to the wide skies of the mountains. Juniper rested a hand against the skyglass and marble baluster at her left, taking a moment to catch her breath. The cloaked man turned abruptly, evidently giving up at his escape through the doors, and froze midstride as he spotted Juniper.

They stayed as such for a long moment, each staring at each other and unmoving. The mountain air wafted into the passage through the arches and balusters that separated the two of them from the thousand foot drop, and sent their clothes to rustling with equal unease. His hood shifted in the breeze, and once more Juniper saw his face under the brown hair. She took an involuntary step toward him, feeling herself drawn by morbid curiosity. The winds blew again as she approached, lifting at the hem of the man's cloak. A long knife rested easily in the grip of a gloved hand, dully reflecting sunlight.

"Stay back!" He shouted hoarsely, and the words shattered her illusion, "I don't wanna stick ye, girl, but I will if ye don't drop that comb in yer hair and back up! "

He slowly approached, brandishing the long knife out before him as a warning and a threat.

[Juniper Frost]

: : : Juniper Frost : : :

86th Day of Spring, 514 AV

-{Continued in the Closed thread, The Cowardice of Thieves}-

[Brandon Blackwing]

XP Award! Juniper Frost XP: Meditation + 1 Rhetoric +1 Observation +1 Detection +1 Tracking +1 Lore: Nightmarish visions of a former bondmate Using good memories to calm the mind Inviting nightmares with open windows The Kelvic bond Regor: Word game loving Sage Noting something’s amiss A familiar face Following Twist through Lhavit Notes: A very nice job you did writing this thread. It was very interesting to read and to gain new insights into Juniper’s habits and the way her mind works. I also very much like your style. This is the very first grade I have given since becoming a grader ^_^ so I hope the grades are to your liking. Though there wasn’t much to award xp for, you did get quite a few lores. Anyway, great character building thread, I’ll be watching you (In fact I already was … ) Questions, concerns or comments about your grade? Shoot me a pm and we’ll work it out.