Swimming in The Sea of Grass [Van & Satu]

[Satu]

From out of the dark, the Drykas returned. The Guide would lead her after all! Released from her statue-like vigil, Satu moved to gather her belongings and strap them on the horse where Vanator indicated. After her things were secure on the painted horse, he offered a hand to help her up. She did not expect it and in the moonlight, it was hard to say what emotions crossed her face. For the briefest instant she looked startled as the hand came towards her and then the moment passed… had it even happened? What manner of man had reached out to Satu in the past to cause her to react so? It was obvious, Satu trusted no one. But Vanator’s Heart felt different to the HeartSeer, and he promised to guide her along the thread’s path… Recovering quickly, the Konti suddenly clasped her cool hand to his larger one. Satu noted the strength in his grip as it helped pull her up onto the horse. But it was with a decided lack of grace, that she scrambled behind the Drykas and entwined her alabaster arms around his torso. She held on tightly as they rode off into the darkness. It was impossible to say if time passed quickly or slowly in the grasslands; all scenery seemed the same to the Konti’s eyes in the dim moonlit night. Nestled against Vanator’s broad back, Satu felt pangs of Disappointment. He had chosen to cover his marks! Why? The Dyrkas must have known she had seen them already! It could be a secret no longer… Her body rested against his, bounced continuously by the horse’s gait. Securing her hands more tightly, she laid her cheek against his muscled back. Could she feel the windmark? Beneath the cloth? Almost her skin touched it! How it whispered in her ear, compelling her to learn its secrets! Slowly, she unwound an arm, and began to trace the remembered lines with one soft finger. Around the muscle and over the spine she went, flitting to the shoulder. Out and around, a connection built as she dreamily traced. The answers were almost visible in her mind, but the sudden jostling of the horse broke her reverie, and time and again the mark’s secrets slid out of her grasp. After a time, Satu grew calm, almost contemplative and the horse lulled her with its movements. Sleep tried to take her, though she unsuccessfully tried to fight it. An arm slipped down Vanator’s side, startling her to awareness for a moment as she tried to catch herself. “Do not stop,” she said, half asleep, “Please, don’t…” She would continue as long as they could, the thread beckoned! But Satu had pushed herself terribly on this journey and rocking motion of the unending rhythm rocked her into a restful, comfortable state. With abandon and without embarrassment she dozed against him, as a child might.

[Vanator]

Even as he pulled Satu onto the horse, the Konti scrambling to find her seating, Vanator questioned himself again.  It was not the first time he had met a strange woman in the Sea.  He literally stumbled across both of his wives in the open plains, as well as Hex and Dhanya, both who came to be very special to him.  The precedence demanded he proceed with caution. But Vanator's life was different now.  Before, he would not have thought twice about picking up a stranger, nor would he be concerned about what may have eventually conspired thereafter.  He may have even employed some charm to endear himself to an unsuspecting companion. But his heart, once empty and seeking solace in the arms of others, was now full.  He was now blessed with Kashik and Khiara, whom he loved passionately and who loved him without measure.  So, as the Drykas felt the arms of the Konti encircle his chest, Van wondered what had compelled him to place himself in this situation.  Again, his only answer was that he simply knew he had to help the woman. Vanator was not a man who contemplated weighty matters like destiny often, but had he been pressed to define what made him make the choice to go with Satu, destiny may have been the word he evoked, if in fact he really had a choice at all. They rode into the darkness without words, Vanator leading the mare with no other guidance than the general direction Satu had indicated with a pale pointing finger.  Though the bell was late, the horseman was not drowsy.  He had to remain diligent, for even a seasoned Drykas as himself was at risk traveling alone in the Sea.  Besides, the feel of Satu pressed against his back and her tight embrace was a distracting.   experiencing the light sensation of Satu's finger against the back.  He realized in amazement that she was tracing the lines of his windmark hidden under his tunic. Did she memorize his mark during their short encounter, or was it some Konti trick that allowed her to see his tattoo beneath the fabric? It was somewhat unnerving.  There was an undeniable mystery surrounding the Konti, her unnatural insight, irrational obsession with her journey and peculiar behavior.  He even wondered if she had somehow employed magic to compel him to volunteer for this duty. The woman was....strange. Van vowed to remain cautious while with the enigmatic woman. The two of them rode on, Kalinda easing to a steady plod, urged forward by the Drykas at the behest of the weary Konti, as if the proud horseman had already bent to the Konti's will. But he would not have the horse or himself driven to exhaustion. So, once Syna finally revealed her dawning light from below the horizon, Vanator drew the paint to a halt near a small stream. The press of Satu's weight against his back and limp arms in his lap assured the man that the Konti had been able to sleep some during the night. Shrugging to stir her head resting between his shoulder, Vanator broke the bells- long silence between them. "Satu, we need to let Kalinda rest, we can get a drink and prepare some food.". He waited until he felt Satu's warmth leave his back, then slid from the yvas, turning to offer his hands to assist the Konti in dismounting.

[Satu]

Blinking slowly at Vanator’s words, Satu stirred into wakefulness from her position behind him. Loath to give up the closeness to his windmark, the Konti lightly placed a webbed palm flat against it one last time brushing the fabric lightly. Caught somewhere between dreams and wakefulness, she could not feel the pull of it. It was- “Oh!” she exclaimed as Vanator dismounted, taking the mark further away from her. The Konti’s hand reached out after it, but instead, the man offered Satu his own hands to help her down from the horse. Once again, taken by surprise, the HeartSeer startled at his touch. Fear and dark threat clouded her eyes, only to leave as suddenly as it had come. He is the Guide. He is the Guide. He shall not hurt you. And …you shall not hurt him. She told herself, and told herself. Tentatively the Konti placed her hands in his as she slid down the side of the horse and into the Drykas’ strong arms. As soon as Satu’s slippered feet were firmly planted on the ground, she felt disoriented. Where did the thread lead! She had lost it! Looking around she tried to follow the thread’s path out into the dawn. Only after finding it again, did she settle. “It is still so far away…” she sighed, looking down at the invisible thread in her hand, then up at the Drykas. “Is this a lengthy stop?” Satu seemed softer now, her eyes bigger. The fight had left her and she traced her fingers over the tall grass that surrounded them in every direction. “Are we lost?” Was not he supposed to lead her? Or was she supposed to lead him? Confusion registered in her face, layering over its ethereal paleness. “Do you know this place? And what lies there?” she asked, pointing in the direction they were traveling. Satu reached for her pack, and in the midst of removing it from the horse, she stopped as if she had heard something. His Heart! Turning to Vanator, she said in an even and lyrical tone, as if she was discussing something she was only mildly curious about, “You are guarded. Do I frighten you Drykas?”

[Vanator]

From the startled, hesitant glimmer in Satu's saturated blue gaze, Vanator guessed she was still awakening. As she slid off the horse and into his arms, he winced. He had ridden for bells almost motionless, unwilling to shift and awaken the weary Konti. Now his spine was stiff and sore. The horseman twisted and stretched, a satisfying series of cracking pops emanating from his muscular back. Standing next to Satu now, he noted her stature. She was tall, nearly as tall as he. She had the body like those of the grassland women, lean and muscular. Like his sisters, Satu's hair was a stark white, her skin an almost luminescent ivory, smooth like cream, marked by the curious scales in an pattern even more delicate than his half-siblings. While the stranger came across as determined, even-singled minded to the point of surliness the night before, now Satu displayed disorientation and uncertaintly. She was strange indeed. As they stood near the stream, the woman glanced around furtively, as if looking for something he could not see. Then, her face lighting with relief, she reached out and grabbed something and nothing. She broke her silence, and made her inquiries, still intent and focused on the journey that seemed to consume her. As she turned to him, he saw a familiarity to her posture, as if holding an invisible rope, not unlike a webber, or himself, laying hold of a strand of djed webbing. Vanator's distraction broke as she spoke. He replied with a sigh. "No, we do not have to stop long, but the horse needs watered and fed and so do I." His head surveyed the surrounding landscape and then in the vague direction she pointed. "If you mean do I know where we are...yes. I am not lost. What lies there..." He pointed in the direction Satu had indicated, "...is more grass, until you get to the Wildlands of Sylira. Beyond that, Taldera and a land of ice and snow." The Drykas only knew the details of the furthest reaches of Mizahar because Khiara had explained them to him. "We will cross a few cart path's along the way that may lead us to a caravan. I will begin searching the Web to locate one, perhaps before we leave this place." The rider did not usually speak so openly of the Web to outsiders, but he found no reason to conceal what would be obvious, since she would have to stand guard over him as he did it. Vanator watched Satu's eyes as she looked out at the horizon. The mark over her right eye was unusual, and he realized he was staring at it. When she turned to get her pack. Her demeanor relaxed and again she spoke as if she could discern the content of his heart. Yes, he was guarded. Satu seemed unstable, almost as one that suffered from Kera Nut fever. He began to wonder if there really was some distant destination that she sought. The way she held that unseen..whatever, how she seemed preoccupied with his Windmark as they rode, the shifting coherence. He was alone in a dangerous place with a woman that made no sense, who behaved unsoundly. "Yes, Satu, I am guarded." He paused, she saw him, somehow, and he found no reason to attempt to conceal his feelings. " I do not fear you, Konti, but I have....trepidation. You behave strangely, you look at me as if you expect something from me, and I do not know what that is. You reach for something that is not there. You are certainly a daughter of Mura, but you dress like the savages of the West. And something has...compelled me to help you when all logic says it is unwise and dangerous. It all sits upon me uneasily." Van then walked to the other side of Kalinda to remove some gear to prepare a meal.

[Satu]

Eyes the color of inlet sea watched Vanator as he walked to the other side of the horse, yet it felt to Satu as if he walked across the whole of the Grasslands. The Konti needed his help and she contemplated this from where she stood. A Guide must understand and believe in the journey as she did! Yet this Drykas harbored misgivings! On some level, she understood how poorly her interactions with others had been of late. It did not take a Gift to see that! Was it Trust? How did one receive that? She tried to remember, was it truly so far from her grasp? She only spoke truth! The typical, reactive Aggressions she normally let fly upon misunderstandings did not suit this Guide… It was a pity that there were no assurances imbedded within Drainira’s thread, though it gave the HeartSeer direction and compellingly guided her, it failed to guide her in the understanding of humans. Satu raised her arms out to the sides, to try to explain, something, anything to him… and even her lips parted to speak words, but what was there to say or explain when he refused to see the horrors in the world for what they ultimately were. Her face became sorrowful and she moved to stroke the horse’s neck as she thought. He was sent to help her, and yet… he was leery and did not believe. If she could have pleaded, she would have. But the effort had been stripped from her seasons ago. As she stood shimmering in the morning sun, her palm lifted and fell with each brush against the beast’s hair. Her scales defined her as different, but she held the Heart and eyes of a saddened woman. Who could help her now? No one! Satu looked down and decided a new guide was what was needed, if she could even find one here in the middle of grass and sky. But then, Vanator mentioned a web and with the word, Satu quickly brushed aside her vow to find another guide. Her hair fell heavily around her face as she leaned her head to the side to question him, “What is this Web? A thread? You have your own?” It was a sign! This was the right path and guide! Her face lit up beautifully in relief. “You sense it, but you do not see it? I have a thread, of my own…” She paused; it was a great risk she took to tell him. “It is a secret of course, a sacred trust. Please do not tell anyone I told you. It could become difficult for me if you did… But if we are to travel this path together, we can not have such secrets.” Would Vanator agree, or even understand? “You think me strange. But you are hidden here in the Grasslands, away from strife and ugliness while I…, I…” she faltered. “I have been through much,” Satu stopped, the details were so fuzzy now, “and terribly betrayed.” Her eyes held the haunted look of sorrow deep within them. “The savages saved me from certain death, when those of my own people turned their backs upon me. They taught me how to live once more,” she said, which was partly true as she confused her tumultuous past. “This is the only clothing I have… It was warmer there,” she looked down upon her leathers and ran a hand across them, feeling its texture with a webbed hand. She still had her cloak, but it was worn and frayed at the edges and its once vibrant hue had faded into a dull green. She put her arms around her shoulders as if she were cold, hugging its length to her. “You have no cause for Trepidation, I am no terrible White Witch to compel you. I do not even know how...” She sighed, weary of the unfounded judgments others often put upon her. “The chavi have simply shown that your path is here. Their strands have brought us together. Fates and futures are not so bad a thing. Is this so terrible?” She did not think so. “There is no logic, for what is logic to the shimmering movement of time? There is no logic in this, only the swaying of the chavi. Your mind is foreign. And your Heart strong. But the path is light and ever-changing. Lift your heart Vanator, Drykas man. Somewhere, you have agreed to this task. Perhaps it lies in the mark upon your back?” She gave him a small smile. “It will not consume you! The future flows around us, past your skin and into your hair. Its taste is on your lips…” Satu closed her eyes and felt it, and though she could not see the future, she knew it was there. Waiting, she asked him, “Do you not dance? For that is how time moves and flows within us, not in thoughts and logic and plans!” She was Konti, and even now she felt the chavi within her, and it soothed her soul to feel it. She held a small pale hand out to Vanator, “Come, let me show you…”

[Vanator]

Vanator removed a pack and shifted back to Kalinda's head. He looked at Satu just as her demeanor shifted, excited, as if some hope he did not know she had lost had suddenly been rekindled. She still insisted that she had some thread of her own, as if holding a strand of the Drykas' sacred webbing. The webber focused his mind, soon seeing the glowing strand of djed that connected him to a thread of the Web in the distance. He did not see anything connected to Satu. But he knew that the Konti absolutely believed in her thread, confiding its existence to him as if it were some dark secret. Vanator still teetered on whether Satu was authentic, some amazing woman wrapped in mystery and intrigue, or a madwoman luring him into desolation. The Webber was usually reluctant to discuss the Web with outsiders. Somehow, out here alone, the Konti's charisma admittedly drawing him in, the subject did not seem so taboo. He gave Satu the benefit of the doubt, deciding to touch on the subject. "No, I do not see your thread. But I can see Cyphrus's web. It covers the Sea of Grass, first woven by the ancients of my people. I am connected to it, all true Drykas are." He had questions for her, about her thread, but Satu continued to speak. He bristled at her inference that the grasslands was some safe place, like a groomed public park where the Drykas were safely sequestered. Van was not sure what she had been saved from, or what she meant by strife and ugliness, but he did not live some blissfully ignorant life. He wanted to retort that he had seen the corpse of his beloved wife cast aside, torn asunder by the claws of a Zith to rot. That his sister had been tormented by slavers, still not knowing what all she had suffered at their hands, even now serving the Akalak like some breeding mare. That he had seen numerous friends and kin killed by any number of Cyphrus' lethal dangers. He held his tongue instead, sensing that there was more to what Satu implied. The Drykas' angst cooled as Satu explained that her clothes were meant for a warmer climate. She did appear cold, her pale skin gleaming in the morning sun as if it would be icy to the touch. "I have appropriate clothes for you." He dropped the pack in his hand and started to reach for another bundle on the painted mountes yvas. Then the white woman spoke again, her excitement now tempered with a sigh of frustration. She spoke of chevi and paths and things esoteric. Her sentences began to flow with insight that resonated within the simple horseman. The Konti's words reminded him of Raiha, the Akontak from Riverfall. She too spoke things that touched his heart, wisdom and analogies that seemed to open his perception. Suspicion and wariness lowered as the stranger's words wrapped around him, tempting him to accept that there was a larger force at work, bringing him to this place with this woman for a specific purpose. Satu spoke as if the fabric of time was some tangible, transtitioning thing that she could touch and even taste. He found himself caught in her imagery, in the elusive truth she was trying to help the Drykas to grasp. Vanator did not reply whether he danced or not, simply finding himself reaching out to take her small hand in his, curious and submitting himself in some small way to her.

[Satu]

“I do not see them,” she said, while a hand shielded her eyes from the sunlight. Studying the surrounding landscape, Satu turned in a circle... to cover the Sea of Grass, his threads had to be many. But grass and her own beckoning thread stretching far away were the only things she saw as she peered into the distance, nothing more. “I have but the one thread…” she confessed. The HeartSeer felt the man’s emotions flare and bristle, but Satu could not comprehend why. So careful had she been, not allowing her natural Aggressiveness and Anger to scare him away. Watching his Heart with interest, Satu tried to follow its sudden turns, and slowly Vanator’s wariness waned. A small look of surprise sparked in the Konti’s eyes, and her face became radiant as the Drykas’ hand reached out to meet hers. To Satu, the hand represented understanding! And his acceptance of the role as Guide! A giddy, lightheadedness filled Satu as their fingers touched one another, her cool, webbed digits inside his warmer and larger ones. Gently, as if Vanator was a child, she led him away from the horse, and spoke calmly,“Let your mind rest, and your Heart open! Do not look with seriousness upon the grasses!” Her footsteps moved lightly, precisely between the blades, one gentle slipper falling than another. “You are heavy with the weight of earth, and horse, and responsibility. Feel the lightness of water and sky flowing within your blood…” Her body shifted; almost it seemed to lengthen as she pulled upon his strong arm. “Step fast, step lightly!” she urged as she moved with him, working her way around in a tight circle. It was an attempt to throw off his sense of place and foundation, to not let his mind settle or deny what his body experienced. Or to judge! “Faster, faster!” she pulled him, an angelic smile on her face to see the proud man as she tugged upon him. Then, her head, with its unruly white locks cocked to the side, as if she had caught him at something, and she purred, “You are again Curious! That is good! Let it reach out around you… feel it blowing through you. Thoughts and words let them go! Fears and worries mean nothing here! Time is moving, and moving… Do you feel it? That all is as it should be and every thread of time is in place?” Satu became more animated, “Only move and flow…” She moved faster, her grip surprisingly strong upon his thick wrist, “Follow me Vanator, I will lead. In this, I will be your Guide.” And perhaps the Drykas could feel a change in Satu’s steps and within her form as it seemed a shift was truly about to begin, but before the Konti took another step, her foot caught on a lumpy grass root. She almost stumbled and took Vanator down on top of her, but at the last minute she caught herself. “A knot within the thread,” she explained, looking behind her at the man, laughing, “simply that, nothing more!” And once again she began to move through the grass.

[Vanator]

Vanator followed Satu, allowed her cool hand to take hold of his. His digits brushed along the webbing between her fingers, and Van relived the memory of holding Kavala's hand in the distant past. He did not linger in nostalgia, the Drykas' mind still trying to process who this woman was, what she spoke of, and what she intended to do. The inquiry about dancing was a bit unexpected. Of course he had danced. Not often, usually at family gatherings, most recently at his own wedding. In all his recollections, the man did not recall any sensation or revelation regarding the flow of time. His experience dancing was centered around less esoteric motives. Had some unseen observer watched the two travelers, they surely would have been amused. The lithe Satu, graceful and at ease in her fluid motion, tugging at the bulk that was Vanator, his steps measured, heavy and cautious. The Konti's words streamed with a lilt that matched her flowing movements. She spoke of ethereal things, much like Hex used to do. He wanted to debate, to insist that the grasses were exactly the place that one should look upon with seriousness. It was more than just that there was perpetual peril in the grasslands, but it was also something to revere, the land of Semele and Caiyha, entrusted to the Drykas. But as they spun, he finding his footing behind the traipsing woman, the horeselord did find himself separating from his surrounds, a dizzying blur moving past them. His motion became less chunky, smoother, like a melding of the slinking of a hunter and the steps of a dancer. It was not beautiful, but it was no longer a staggering gait. Though he had not yet embraced the concepts Satu was trying to convey, Van did recongize that he was heavy, heavy with cares, concerns and duty. He felt the weight of repsonsibility to his father, his family and for the welfare and happiness of Kashik and Khiara. And he was going to be a father. The crust that defined his daily life began to crack, threatening to lift away. He was curious, and again she saw his heart. As they moved faster in their tight pattern, Vanator could almost sense something beyond himself, just a teasing breath of something undiscovered. His eyes remained fixed on the stranger, she appeared almost magical in the morning sun, joyful and lovely and musical in her motion, becoming something beautiful to behold. The mysterious seer seemed on the verge of revelation, and he found he anticipated something that he didn't even comprehend. Then Satu stumbled. As if watching a play in which part of the set toppled, the atmosphere that had been crafted by the Konti was momentarily broken. But the incident did not deter the white woman, and her laugh easily dismissed the near-trip. Her firm grasp on Van's wrist did not falter, and the man found himself following her again as she lead him in the circle, building speed again. Despite his reservations, despite his misgivings, Vanator returned her contagious smile, again attempting to find that place she had brought him to at the brink of understanding. "Show me Satu."

[Satu]

Satu turned, as the wind sent tendrils of white hair whipping across her face. Catching Vanator’s smile she was pleased, not just to see the man agreeable, but because his Heart had softened. Wariness was still there, but it had not the same vice-like grip upon his Heart. “I will! And you shall see!” she sang lightly as she pulled his hand once again. The lithe Konti was faster than the heavier man, and quickly she danced on, giving him little time to keep up. Her grasp once so firm, became feather-soft as her fingers unwound from his tanned wrist and slid from his grasp as she pulled away. Turning to face him the sunlight warmed her scales, and as she moved Satu encouraged the Drykas to continue. “Follow me Vanator!” She called, dancing through the grass, while her eyes shone with the blue of the sea. She had a vision of the world and how everyone fit into it according to the tasks she had arbitrarily assigned them. “You are the Guide! It is in you to see. Lift away from your cares…. Your Threads, they will help you to see farther… and truer.” Not understanding the Drykas webbing, Satu assumed the threads of it were like the threads of the Chavi, ever changing and ever mutable. She had grown knowing the Chavi and sensing its influences upon lives. Why did this man not have the same knowledge? She spun where she was in the grass, arms wide as her muscular arms spread outward, and the pattern of her movements changed, “Do not fear change, think upon it like an inlet tide upon a rocky shore. The waters travel where they must, to go where they will… be the searching waters and flow in your looking.” Her mind flew back to the ocean. How she missed the sounds of waves and birds, and the always constant thrum of the sea! “Times flows like water. You can not be solid against it. Move with the Chavi, spontaneous and light!” The Konti took another step away, her hips swaying with each footstep, and she beckoned him closer. “Try to catch me!” she dared with a tilt of her head, but this new challenge held no threat, unlike the one spoken when they had first met. Satu danced encouragingly away, the breeze ruffling her hair. Would the Drykas follow? The Konti had no doubt that he would, for in her mind the Chavi had brought them together.

[Vanator]

The Horseman continued to follow Satu, even as her grip on his wrist loosened and her fingers slipped across his to free him of her pull. Vanator was still unclear of the Konti's intent. His suspicion had waned as her charm embraced him, but his earth-bound mind still pondered at her purpose. She was preparing him for something it seemed, goading him to open his awareness to something unfamiliar. For what reason he mused only a moment, his attention on the beautiful pale woman and his effort to match her gazelle like movement. The Guide. He was The Guide? Satu wore riddles and mysteries like a satin robe, spoke as if the world she lived in was apart from the one they tread. Vanator felt himself lifting from that world with her, and he did not know why. Much the prancing stranger said escaped his understanding. But when she spoke of change, and the sea shore, well, those were things he knew. The Drykas had seen much change on the past few seasons, and where he was now was a very different place than where he was a year ago. The lilting accent of Satu's voice encouraged him to consider the sea and the shore. He had seen where land met sea twice, and he had marveled at how the steady motion of the tide sent water to swirl amid the rocks. Always in motion, no space left dry where the tide reached. Raiha the Akontak had tried to get the Ankal heir to let go of his past and embrace his life in the present. Now Satu appears, probing his psyche just as the stranger in Riverfall. Vanator wondered if these women were some divine messengers sent by the gods to nudge him onto some predetermined path laid before him. Regardless, the man thought upon Satu's words, understanding he still had a fairly narrow vision for his life. Maybe that was the message, maybe he was supposed to look beyond what he is obligated to do, what he is expected to do. Vanator's reflections turned to a quick study of the woman herself as she spun in the grass. Satu did appear almost divine, as if her bright skin shone of its own light, faint sparkling across her scales and the markings at her temple. Alabaster locks brushed freely across her lovely face as she moved, seeming to defy the force that held them to the earth. The lines of her limbs seemed both strong and fluid as she danced and swayed. When the Konti offered her taunting invitation to chase her, Vanator found he fell naturally into step behind her, propelling himself through the grass smoothly as Satu drifted away, always out of reach. Vanator wanted to catch her, and he did not know why.