Closed Some Fogs Are Forever (Savis)

Savis and Mauriel meet at Alheas Park and end up stumbling upon The Lonely Shack, where they may learn more than they bargained for...

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The Diamond of Kalea is located on Kalea's extreme west coast and called as such because its completely made of a crystalline substance called Skyglass. Home of the Alvina of the Stars, cultural mecca of knowledge seekers, and rife with Ethaefal, this remote city shimmers with its own unique light.

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Some Fogs Are Forever (Savis)

Postby Mauriel on January 14th, 2019, 2:59 am

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Some Fogs Are Forever
6th of Winter, 518 AV

It was long before noon that the Akvatari found herself eager to exit her tiny cottage. She has been roaming around all night collecting energy, and was all but ready to learn what Savis had to teach her. She dressed appropriately for the cold weather, taking a note to pack everything she might need into her bag. Her notebook, ink and quill, shoes for her transformation, a sack of water. She filled another sack with dried fruit she bought earlier, though it was more than unlikely that either of the immortals will be hungry. As much as it would pain her to admit it, Mauriel yearned for adventure, and preparing for various possibilities was almost like a game.

She put on her Stardrop Earring, as usual, but today she placed Ragespike in her scabbard in place of the plain dagger she got into the habit of carrying instead of him. She promised she would show him to Savis, and that she will. "Rage, believe it or not, we're going on an adventure!" She was almost bumping against the walls from excitement, and hardly noted the annoyed grumble of the dagger wondering whether her idea of an adventure was playing the lute or visiting the library this time.

The lute... She doubted there'd be any need for it, for they were supposed to keep focus at other things. And in a Park like that, it'd probably get all dirty and scratched. Might even scare the little animals off if she plays it. No, better not.

"Rage, you have to behave yourself today. We're meeting one very special lady, and if you give her trouble... Well, I might just gift you to her!" It was somewhat of an empty threat, though if Savis took interest she might consider it.

Soon enough, she fluttered off towards the Park. Believe it or not, in all her time here, Mauriel still hasn't visited Alheas. Back in Summer when she fell all sorts of weird rumors were going around about it, and the whole city was in somewhat of an odd state with the fog and everything, not to mention she had a whole world of things to learn and visit. Now that the dust has somewhat settled on those matters, she felt way more comfortable going, and was in fact happy that Savis chose that spot for their training.

The eager butterfly was there early. Surprisingly enough, there were a lot of people around. Winter was very mild and and pleasant, but work was still more scarce than in the previous months, so she supposed a lot of people liked to fill their leisure time with nature walks. She could start too.

As she looked around waiting for the undead, she noticed the remarkable variety of color. Everything was painted in warm tones, unusually so for daytime, especially daytime in the Winter. She seemed to see the familiar sparkle of Lhavitan flora on some of the plants, but it was a fleeting mirage, a faint shadow compared to Syna's radiance. It seemed like a rather pleasant place, possibly even more so at night. A rather romantic place too. It was so beautiful that the Ethaefal had half a mind to just leave. She wanted to keep it for herself, not spoil it with memories and feelings she would associate with it. She was being silly, of course, but such were the thoughts crossing her mind while she admired the landscape The Star of Kalea gifted her with.

Last edited by Mauriel on January 23rd, 2019, 5:05 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Some Fogs Are Forever (Savis)

Postby Savis Maren on January 21st, 2019, 2:21 am

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6th of Winter, 518 AV

From the shroud of Autumn came the chill of Winter, so muted by the traitorous disappearance of Morwen, but nonetheless the climate fought against the sensibilities of mortals. Savis Maren was glad for the season, for the sun burned weaker and the chill preserved her bones for longer. The nuit dressed plainly, keeping to her dark garb with none of the additional vestments. Mortals took to their jackets and coats, but the undead took to her mobility, instead.

The walk to the Solar Wind Apartments just two days ago took the Nuit with a great deal of surprise. She'd come to find not one, but two different letters from old associates that the seasons seemed to wilt into the nothingness. Mauriel and Haneht, both remembered quite fondly and with entirely different impressions. Once Savis Maren replied to Haneht's message, she'd taken to sending Sil to the Scholar's Demise with her answer. Perhaps the little golem found its target, for when it returned later that evening, it was without its letter.

Savis Maren was apprehensive, the imminent reunion with the Ethaefal was far further along from when she'd anticipated. Though Mauriel noted very good reasons for her departure, the nuit was apprehensive yet. The tone of Mauriel's letter was filled with grave warnings. The Autumn brought with it the fallout from the Spring, and Mauriel certainly was among the souls who went to investigate the thing they'd had on display. Numerous experiences with wild and unpredictable magic rendered Savis fearful of the powers of the unknown and the arcane, fearful of what which she could not control.

Reading through the Ethaefal's letter a final time, she resolved to meet with her, having affirmed it in their correspondence. The nuit brought along Tunes, the golem born from Mauriel's voice and was so fondly remembered by the butterseal Eth. With Tunes, the Voice Box and Wheels in her company, she was confident that the materials needed for this little lesson were in play, but there was much to consider.

"Come," she called out to the wheeled golem and Savis turned behind her to pry its door open with the verbal command, stowing her satchel and the other golems inside of it before closing the door and commencing towards Alheas Park. Zintia was home to both the park and the nuit's residence at Infinity Manor, making the path short but rewarding to follow. Entry into the Park took but chimes, and Savis Maren was pleased for the even ground that allowed Wheels full autonomy over the terrain. The golem moved in a pace identical to its masters, the spheres that propelled it about rolling in perfect symmetry, more than slow enough to follow with its consideration for Savis' sluggish body.

"If you see a woman with butterfly wings, let me know," she told the automaton.

"Yes, mistress," it bellowed, its strings echoing within the metallic casing. If Savis Maren was a mortal, she'd have shivers pouring down her spine at the utterance. How delightful it was, to have servants to address her as such. The pull of Animation was the very idea of control, to have subservient beings that did not feel shame in their servitude. Savis would not subjugate a living being to the servitude she'd known, but it felt glorious to be obeyed. The wheeled tool rotated on all of its sides as Savis Maren peered through the lightly fogged Alheas Park. The place was teeming with luminous flora and the small creatures of the city, all hidden beneath low layers of wisps white that whirled around the place as a veil.

Several meters away, strings vibrated loudly within the metallic hull of her creation. Savis turned, a hiss in her throat until she followed the large mirror 'head' to the sight of a dazed-looking winged, human-seal hybrid of a being. Savis Maren fought the tickle in her throat again, her teeth holding her tongue as she nodded in affirmation. Then, she stepped forward, placing her fingertips onto the Wheels' hull, an encouraging clasp on its inhuman 'shoulder' before Savis called out for the Ethaefal, her name cutting through the silence in a single, mellifluous utterance. When Savis caught up with the Ethaefal, she looked in turn at the landscape the being was admiring.

"This is certainly quite the city, miss Dazzling," she said, the whirring automaton coming to a stop alongside her before she asked her 'student',

"Are you ready to begin?"
Last edited by Savis Maren on January 21st, 2019, 11:04 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Some Fogs Are Forever (Savis)

Postby Neologism on January 21st, 2019, 8:50 am

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As the two women gathered beside the still glass pond within the park, the sun flitted through the sparse but remaining leaves of the fadeong trees, casting orange and red hues onto the dead grass beneath them. There was a light amount of gardening done around the pond, to make ease for visitors who wanted to sit on the bench and simply enjoy the view and meditation of the park. Expanding out from the serene pond was a shroud of multicolored trees and faintly luminescent shrubbery that provided sanctuary for the wildlife on such a busy peak. Some visited to meditate by the pond or share a picnic with their loved ones. Others donned appropriate gear and hiked into the small wilderness to get a taste of the outside world from the safety of their city. None were aware of the shack.

As the women dove deeper into their conversation, they would find a strange structure appearing in the corners of their vision. Perched deep into the treeline on the opposite bank of the pond was a small shack. It looked unlike any Lhavitian architecture that either was used to, and was instead small, quaint, and created of wood. There was no carved animal on the door to greet them, and the small plain glass windows seemed waved and yellowed with time, although curtains hung behind them noting of the presence of someone within. It did not appear abandoned or unkept, but it was clear the shack was used to the ways of the wild and apart from necessary repairs, untouched by human hands.

The women would have to make the trek through the shrubbery, off the populated paths in order to reach the shack. As they neared an ominous aura would settle around them, emanating heavily from the shack. It offered the foreboding feeling of the unknown, but there seemed no malicious intent, but rather a test for the strength of one’s curiosity as they approached. Once their ankles and tails were ringed with the flowery vegetation beneath the trees, a small well-aged sign became visible to the women, with two simple words on it: ’Fortune Teller’.
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Some Fogs Are Forever (Savis)

Postby Mauriel on January 21st, 2019, 11:18 am

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As it was presumably rather often the case, Savis stuck out like a sore thumb. Devoid of Winter robes that swallowed up most of the people they were surrounded with, with a familiar jaundiced skin and equally pale silver eyes, reminiscent of the Ethaefal's own, it was truly hard to miss Savis Maren, even from a distance. Though this time, she brought reinforcements. As if she were not curious enough a creature of her own, she decided to have an automaton follow her around, driving after her on what looked like wheels. While Mauriel was no longer a stranger to Animation, the creature still got an eyebrow raise out of her.

As the joyous bunch approached the winged woman, Savis noticed her and called out her name. Mauriel's wings fluttered, carrying her towards her much less mobile companion. As Syna's light penetrated the wings, colors danced around her shadow, forming a strange blob of light and darkness right under her.

After exchanging greetings, Savis was eager to start with the lecture. From her tone, Mauriel almost felt like the Nuit rehearsed her lesson and was a bit excited and anxious for it. The bard couldn't tell, tho, as she was still learning to read the undead. While the living liked to conceal their emotions as well, a lot of it seeped out whether they liked it or not, coloring their faces surprised, jealous, excited, loving. It was hardly the only clue as to what they were feeling, but being almost stripped of it, and having to learn to focus almost entirely on subtleties of the tone of voice, or the person's choice of expression presented a bit of a challenge without the accompanying visual clues. She saw it as an opportunity to learn and practice, though. It was a bit like being blindfolded and required to do your daily tasks. Yes, it was difficult and frustrating in some ways, but when that hypothetical blindfold was taken of, one would gain a much more holistic picture of the world around them, for they would start noticing many things they ignored in favor of visuals.

"Won't you introduce us first?" the brunette retorted to Savis' eagerness, still quite curious about the construction on wheels. "Also, have you brought Tunes?" She was excited to see the notebook, find out what it has learned, has Savis written anything interesting into it. She was curious how did it read out another person's thoughts, was it trying to emulate them, or did it read as Mauriel would to herself, or rather to an audience? She had entirely forgotten about Ragespike, and he seemed to be unusually patient about the fact. His metal eyes scanned the golem Savis brought with her, presumably curious about a creature a bit like himself.

Before the pair of women and their respective companions could even start their intended activities, they were interrupted by a strange visage. In the distance, Mauriel noticed a small wooden structure. It was made of the same wood that it was surrounded by, and covered in climber plants, shrubbery, or something, Mauriel couldn't quite make it out from the distance, but the point is it was neatly camouflaged. Smug about the fact that she noticed it, she turned to point it out to Savis, but what caught her attention before she could do so were the other people in The Park. Nobody seemed to pay attention to the shack at all, nor was anyone venturing near it. Was the building something everyone knew about, just a relic decorating the landscape? Was it private property of somebody fearsome, or disgusting? Mauriel wondered if she was the odd one out not knowing what this was about, this being her first time here, and sought Savis' eyes for silent confirmation.

Presumably they'd reach an understanding silently, for they were both rather curious creatures. Without a word, Mauriel would proceed towards the shack. The terrain was difficult to fly in, as they were deeper in the park and the trees thickened, not leaving much space for her large wings, so she had to drag herself besides her companion. She offered help to Savis, but quickly realizing she can't be of much use to the Nuit not being very mobile here herself, she opted instead for offering to carry her wooden golem, as its wheels would get stuck in shrubbery, stone, or trip on the uneven terrain. The bugger seemed to be rather cleverly designed to avoid that, but it was still rather impractical for it to move by itself.

Approaching the cottage, she was slowly overcome by a faint feeling of dread. After extensive experience last season with magical causes of madness, she could recognize it as coming from something djed-related, rather than her own mind. That only served to make it scarier, though, and while she was casual and helpful to Savis, it was but an act to hide the trepidations she had about the building. As they approached, it became clearer that the building was in use. While the glass on the windows was yellowed, and vegetation was going quite wild, there was no doubt that the building was still functional. There were no apparent holes letting the wind in, the roof was standing strong, and the curtains behind the windows were clearly unaffected by decay. Close enough for them to make out tiny details now, the building revealed its purpose in two simple words, 'Fortune Teller.'

"Oh, it's a fortune teller! I wonder what we can find out!" Mauriel said. "Do they use some form of magic, like you?"

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Some Fogs Are Forever (Savis)

Postby Savis Maren on January 22nd, 2019, 6:24 am

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Powerful wings kept the butterseal-woman hybrid in suspension. When the Lethaefal was in her mortal seeming, she looked rather ridiculous. But, in truth there was nothing ridiculous about the capacity for flight. Seeing Mauriel in her proper element gave the Nuit a greater respect for this mortal seeming of hers, and the smile on her expression was quite genuine as they moved towards that serene looking pond. The Nuit had an idea in mind, a means of prefacing the gravity of what Mauriel was to learn. After all, her explanations of magic were primarily from the perspective of a world mage, reaching outward with formed connections to extraneous djed.

The understanding needs to stand on a different axis without unraveling previous understanding, the nuit considered before she was sidetracked with the pointing towards Wheels. Of course she'd be fixated on him. The Animation Savis created with Mauriel did not move. A vivid personality was embedded in Tunes that Wheels was not given. Savis Maren specialized each of her creations, only intent on giving them as much as they needed to perform their functions correctly.

In order for there to be a mimicry of art, the soul of an artist is necessary. In order to find the adaption of function, of reason, and of knowledge, multiple different understandings are required, she reminded herself as she reached into Wheels, using the keyword, "Radjud", to part its door and retrieve from it the notebook Mauriel and Savis had formed together. Savis Maren had a great fondness for the golem, but it seemed that Mauriel had her own love for it, as well. On the next twenty pages of the notebook, starting after the first page, were the songs of a street re-telling of Kihala's Handmaiden and Dira's Brother, derived from renditions she'd listened to on the night of the Moon Festival and committed to memory.

When the Akvatari asked about the notebook, Savis placed it in her hands, a chuckle on her lips as she answered, "This is Wheels. I made him after we met in the Autumn. My things get very heavy, you see," she added before snapping her fingers, at the command of which Wheels shut the compartment of its own accord and approached the Nuit. The large, mirror eye caught Mauriel, and the strings within its hull strummed the words in the cold, metallic tone.

"Hello, friend of mistress. You are Mauriel, yes?" it asked. Words came slow and stunted from its strings, as it searched a more open-ended section of its understanding. The automaton followed its directives effortlessly, but its understanding of conventional conversaton and the nuances of it were well beyond its meager mind.

"Uh, he tries," she excused, fondly brushing her fingers along its 'shoulder' before she decided it best to move on to other musings. However, as Savis Maren released a commanding cough, it seemed as if a veil fell by the wayside. Savis Maren felt a shudder of djed, and immediately, she breached into the depths of her soul. Djed suffused on the surface of her skin, her own aura pushing her awareness into the world. However, she regretted it immediately. The enormity of the shields placed around her caught her attention immediately, a massive swell of it that was as keen as a distraction as the shields around Dawn Tower had been. The Nuit grit her teeth before releasing the connection between auras. Savis Maren stood, dazed, for a moment before she listened to the excited Mauriel shout out for the both of them to push forth.

The Nuit was far too astounded by what she saw to argue against it. The blurry lines 'Fortune Teller' were visible in the distance, and the undead mage followed Mauriel onward. She seemed quite adamant to proceed, and in the safety of Lhavit, even Savis Maren could learn to be bold. She nodded n agreement when at last she found the resolve to speak, silver eyes facing forward as the pair of them approached the wooden building. Savis Maren knocked on the door several times but didn't call out. If the being that dwelled within could form such powerful arrays of Shielding magic, then surely that being knew they were there.

"I don't know what else she uses, but there's at least one similarity between us," she said as she waited for that door to open for them.

Even if we're on totally different levels of understanding with it...
Last edited by Savis Maren on January 23rd, 2019, 7:50 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Some Fogs Are Forever (Savis)

Postby Neologism on January 23rd, 2019, 3:51 am

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When the women entered into the shack, they found the world around them dimming slightly. It was no unnatural thing, merely the might of sun making its way through tree branches and then curtains to try and reach them. A sharp chime of the bell above the door sounded as they entered, but no figure emerged to greet them just yet. The foyer of the small cottage was relatively clear, with bare walls and a simple table in the center with one lone standing incense smoldering on its tray. The only other thing the women could see was the curtain draped doorway, that led into the only other room they would be able to access. Once inside the darker room, they find a large circular table, low to the ground with a draping of emerald green cloth over it and gold embroidered into its fringe. The rough wooden walls are slung with curtains that cover no windows, and there are a supple amount of pillows that ring the table, and a single deck of cards neatly stacked in the center of the table. They were, genuinely, in the belly of the shack.

Whatever the place was, it was created to create an isolated nature for those inside, there seemed to be the hair-prickling feeling of someone watching them. Only once the woman found themselves settled, no matter how long it took, would the watcher finally emerge from one of the curtains that seemed to cover nothing in the wall across from them. An ambiguous person that seemed neither young or old, male or female, light or dark. The legend herself emerged from the room, appraising them with sharp black eyes that never strayed from their target. She wore no expression on her face, and for those that could read auras, her emotions and intent were just as ambiguous. It was almost as if the woman before them flitted between the social laws that allowed one to be labelled, creating an anomaly.

”Good morning, children.” When the frail elder spoke, there was a accented draw to her tone that neither would be able to identify. She spoke slowly, and there seemed a shadow of curiosity in her voice as she hobbled towards the table, lowering herself on the side opposite to the two woman with their entourage of fake life. The elder’s eyes left her searching of each of the woman’s faces and flitted over the objects one by one, as if she was gleaning information from everything in the room simply by looking at it. Only then did her gaze narrow on the book that rested still in Savis’ grip, speaking directly to the object as if she was aware it could respond to her. ”Good morning to you as well.”

”I am the Alheas Crone. I have lived on this land for hundreds of years, since the Valterrian, and I will continue to live on this land for hundreds of years yet. There is nothing unknown to me, not the past, the present, nor the future…” Her voice was frail with age but the words spoke of knowledge and well-earned dignity, seemingly far beyond her years, however many years they may be. There was a mischievous glint in her eyes as she recited her speech to the newcomers, gnarled bony fingers reaching for the single deck of cards in the center of the table. She began shuffling them mindlessly, her elderly hands far too used to the movement for her to have to pay attention. Instead her eyes rested on the Akvatari. ”One who searches for her path,” Sharp black eyes cut towards Savis. ”And one who broke free of it.” She stopped shuffling the cards then, her face emotionless once more. ”Now tell me what bring two old friends here? What is it you seek?”
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Some Fogs Are Forever (Savis)

Postby Mauriel on January 23rd, 2019, 8:46 am

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Mauriel smiled at the Nuit's explanation. Animation could indeed be so handy. Maybe a servant to carry her stuff was essential to the Nuit - Mauriel was a bit unsure of how much her bodies could handle - but even if it were not, being able to just fulfill one of those 'Wouldn't it be neat if's that cross your mind on the daily must have been convenient.

But before Wheels could greet her, Tunes was brought out, and her lips immediately widened. "Tunes!" She took the notebook from Savis' hand, perhaps not too aggressively, but that's how it ended up seeming compared to the slow and measured movements of the Nuit. "How have you been, Tunes?" she said. When no response came, she raised her eyebrows a bit worried. "Oh, Canoch!" She flipped open the notebook, interested in the songs inside.

"Hey, Wheels," Mauriel politely greeted back the golem, still too preoccupied with Tunes to pay him proper attention. "Mauriel indeed," she confirmed.

Skimming the two songs, Mauriel found that they were something that she has heard on the streets, but has not managed to learn yet herself. They were not difficult to perform, she just hasn't been exposed to them enough. Dira's Brother. Kihala's Handmaiden. She committed the names to memory, determined to find them in the library or get a street artist to perform them for her. Through her quick skimming she noted that Dira's Brother referred to Leth, and so she committed the Goddess' name into memory. She knew that Leth's sister and the source of his dark past, according to the tales, was a Goddess of Death, but she had never known, at least in this life, her proper name. "Do you mind?" she asked the Nuit, but then not awaiting response she touched the side of a Tune's page, having it sing in the background as they proceeded. With this, she closed it and finally returned it to Savis, satisfied. "I missed Tunes!" she decided to say, as if it weren't obvious to the birds on the trees around them at this point.

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When nobody responded to Savis' knock, Mauriel was a bit discouraged. Perhaps the building had been abandoned, maybe a bit more recently than she had imagined? Or maybe the denizens weren't home. "Hello!" she called out, wondering if the knock was heard. Savis, however, seemed certain that someone was inside. Giving her usual cryptic comments reserved for when she wasn't ready to explain something immediately, Savis left the Akvatari guessing. Was the magic the two shared a sure giveaway of the owner's position? Perhaps the way in which the place revealed itself to them had something to do with it? Turning around to scan their surroundings, Mauriel was certain that the various eyes of passerby were not resting on them standing there, not even for a moment of curiosity, not even if they were looking in the general direction. It was odd, but she felt as though they must have been invisible.

"Oh, look, this time it really is sort of an adventure," Ragespike grumbled from her scabbard. "Why do I have a feeling this is not what Miss Dazzling had intended?"

"Oh, not you too, Rage!" Of course he would love that nickname. She should have hoped for no less.

"Are you chickening out now, Miss Dazzling?"

She was just contemplating! For a few moments! She was going to go in! Argh. She shrugged, pushing the door open. Hopefully, whatever lived here would not get angry at them, for if this was indeed revealed to them this was likely the being's intention. And if the immortals were wrong, hopefully it was just abandoned. What's the worst that could happen in the middle of Lhavit? Had it been dangerous, Mauriel was sure the Shinya would remove it. A bell chimed as they entered, perhaps more for them than for whoever was awaiting.

And yet when they entered, the building seemed to just invite them further in. The room they entered was painfully empty, any light dimmed by the curtains, and furniture very minimal. The table in front of them didn't even have accompanying chairs, and was clearly not intended for them to rest at. Without even considering it for long, Mauriel proceeded to the next door, drawn in by the architecture itself. There, she lingered however, gently moving the drapes to look inside first. She ignored Rage singing about chickens, though she was dissatisfied that her threats wore out and he felt free to mock her again.

Further inside, Mauriel could see a rather different decor. Wood, cloth, and no more, over all of the walls and the floor. It looked somewhat expensive however, the material of the curtains resembling her satin dresses. There were no windows, and her eyes needed some adjusting to see inside. She would hate it living here, she thought, moonlight could never reach this room. When her eyes finally adjusted and she scanned the room a few times, she dragged herself further into the shack, turning to wait for Savis.

She would engage Savis in any conversation the Nuit initiated, before finally settling down on the floor. She'd be careful to move the pillows away, since she was not sure they were intended for her rough and heavy tail.

Mauriel was startled when a figure emerged from the curtains before them, for she hadn't realized anything was behind them. The place seemed rather claustrophobic and smaller on the inside, but at the same time she was surprised that it stretched further yet. The figure was indecipherable. It wasn't blurry or unclear, Mauriel could see its features, but they didn't fit neatly into any of the categories the Akvatari had known.

"Good morning," she responded. Rage was, of course, silent this time. The brunette was uncertain whether he learned his lesson on not agitating potentially dangerous strangers, or did he just not want to be referred to as a child.

The introduction, while making some impressive claims, was the sort of thing one would expect of a being commanding an invisible shack, living on the edges of definitions, and coming out of the wall. Mauriel knew far too many stories still question the validity of this, and her recent increasing knowledge of magic helped suspend her disbelief.

What did surprise her, however, was how she was described by the being. One who searches for her path. She frowned slightly. Was she still searching? Perhaps she was. She believed herself very committed, and yet she was still meandering in Lhavit, forming attachments, and not strictly working on honing her necessary skills. Or maybe the Crone meant that her path wasn't carved out for her and that it was yet to take its precise shape? Questions kept popping up in her mind, just confusing her further and further. The Crone knew the future, was she bound to find another destiny that was better suited for her? Whichever the case, the uncertainty the description caused within her was a clear indication of the fact that she had not yet been secure in her intentions. One could not expect much more of somebody who was yet to turn two seasons old, and whose sense of identity was still taking its proper shape and learning not to rely on Leth, vanity, or her unclear past, but Mauriel could not help but be angry with herself. She wanted certainty. She didn't want to deal with the anxiety that being directionless caused. However, she knew that the Crone could not figure this one out for her. That's not how things worked. Until she was content with herself on the question, any destiny she knew of would be but another cage, another parental guiding hand to protect her from taking responsibility. Safe and constrained. No, she needed resolve from within herself, and she would not be asking useless questions.

A question that seemed way less useless, was about the seemingly innocuous phrasing the Crone used. "Old friends?" It could have been a reference to their age, but again, Mauriel knew too many stories to miss the trick of the ambiguous fortune teller. "What do you mean?"

Feeling a bit impolite for ignoring the next question, she wondered what it was that she sought. If she was completely honest, she was just curious. She did not know of the shack or the Crone, and her intentions were just to investigate. But now that she was here and had this opportunity... What was it that she sought? "Is there anything from my past lives... that would be helpful to know?" she would ask when she got an opportunity to speak again. She desperately wanted to ask will she ever leave Lhavit, she wanted reassurance, she wanted to know that she will not fail yet again, but she also found it to be unhelpful. Uncertainty is what keeps us active and striving for good, while knowing that she would leave for sure might well prevent that. Thinking about questions of this nature confused Mauriel, for she did not believe the future to be set in stone, but still saw it as highly probable. Perhaps it was set in stone in some ways, but looking into it seemed to her to disturb the delicate flow of events and allow for deviations. Who knew. Either way, it wasn't something she saw the necessity in playing with. But her past on the other hand, that could be useful. That could help her gain a firmer grasp on who she was.

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Some Fogs Are Forever (Savis)

Postby Savis Maren on January 23rd, 2019, 12:44 pm

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Watching Mauriel take such an interest in Tunes brought a curious sense of accomplishment within the Nuit. Savis Maren remembered when she'd created Sil, the now-beaten proof that Savis Maren was more than some pawn to the eternal games of superior wizards. She recalled the attachment, the draw she had to the automaton even after time and again being proven to that Sil wasn't worth her time. The Nuit gave the golem chance after chance, excusing it of its flaws for the express reason of attachment. Such bonds weren't rooted in evil, but a capable mage need set aside such feelings and focus on the thing at hand. However, a healthy affection brought a chuckle to Savis' lips, and she nodded, giving the Ethaefal her permission to touch the page with a simple nod of her head. The Nuit listened as Mauriel's voice sang the song of Dira's Brother before she probed at the door, hearing no answer or stir from the other side.

The door was unlocked and moved with the prompting of Savis Maren's knuckles. Clearly, an invitation to pass, but the air of mystique and grandeur had the Nuit approach with an air of caution. Mauriel certainly knew how the Nuit felt about mystique, how the unknown and the misunderstood were the failings of the ignorant. Everything in this world had its explanations, and the Nuit considered that thought as their foray took them into the depths of the shack. The door shut behind them with the gentle coaxing of the wind, and the empty room they absconded into seemed to invite them to sit.

A lonely deck of cards and curtains were all that distinguished the shack from any other dilapidated place and yet... this was nicer. Even in the depths of Alheas Park, this place had an untouched and abandoned quality to it that certainly, the city's authorities weren't one to abide. Savis Maren was confused, intrigued, and infuriatingly so, mystified by what she experienced here. The overwhelming presence of djed whirled around the Nuit, and it was impossible for her to divine the source of it until the 'Fortune Teller' (she presumed) emerged from the curtains. Savis Maren allowed her gaze to catch on the being, whose gender, expression and even age seemed utterly impossible to guess.

A true enigma, hm? Many mages wish to create a mystery of themselves. But, what does this one make of that mystery? the Nuit wondered. Savis Maren pondered probing into aura, but having seen the shields of earlier and being unable to read any sort of impressions with her astute senses, Savis declined the opportunity, believing it a waste of djed trying to wring whatever trivial impressions she'd derive from her.

"Good morning, children. Good morning to you, as well."

Children, hm? Clearly, the undead woman with more than a century under her is a child. What a loa-

Then the Alheas Crone introduced herself and spoke. She imbued her words with frailty and dignity both to them, but it was what she concluded her introduction with that spoke to Savis Maren most of all.

One who searches for her path... Mauriel. One who broke free of it... Me? What does she know? Old friends? This woman speaks in riddles, hiding her secrets and dangling them like fruit on the vine. Is she goading us into asking questions? Is this merely the rambling of a lonely hermit, seeking solace in others?

Savis was far too occupied with her skepticism and her utter disdain for the practiced mysticism to take the Crone's words with anything but a grain of salt and yet it was Mauriel that spoke out first. She asked a question that Savis herself wished to know, but she saw no reason to take stock in the old wives' tale of a self-proclaimed fortune teller. However, what nagged at Savis, what bored deep within her soul was the declaration that Crone had made.

And one who broke free of it.

"Anyone can say cryptic words and claim themselves a steward of time. Tell me, Alheas Crone, what do you mean by the 'one who broke free of it?' What do you see with those cards of yours?"

The skepticism was apparent with Savis' direct questioning, but moreso, with her unblinking silver eyes boring and burning through the Crone with every bit of regard she could muster. Savis Maren did not look to the being with contempt or anger, but rather, resolution. The Nuit had broken free of a path. Several times in her relatively long life, in fact. And she'd do it again if the need ever arose for such measures.

What are you... she thought, her gaze somewhat narrowed as she considered Mauriel. The Ethaefal seemed less skeptical and instead quite intrigued. Her attentions were clearly aroused by the Alheas Crone, and Savis Maren wished, for but a moment, to be so unburdened as to believe so easily, so wantonly consumed by the fervor that was curiosity. A flicker of envy spilled into the Nuit's soul before she expunged it, her hands settled on her lap as she truly thought on the Crone's greeting in earnest. At the very least, her answers would prove revealing. Of what... who was to say?
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Some Fogs Are Forever (Savis)

Postby Neologism on January 27th, 2019, 3:45 am

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As Savis speculated, she found hard black eyes drifting towards her and then softening off into the distance, as if the Chrone could see through the undead soul before her and into worlds unknown. The Chrone seemed to hold a twinkle of some knowledge and mischief in her mind, as if she was judging the woman’s thoughts. Her aura would be coated with the thick touch of some divine magic that settled on her skin, dormant and waiting to be woken and worked. She frowned when the book did not reply to her, almost as if a child would for a toy that did not perform correctly. On such an old and withered face the simple expression seemed off, and for a moment, entirely correct, as if she wasn’t hundreds of years aged but merely a few and wanting of the simple things in life.

”Suspicion, it is healthy.” Her shuffling came to a stop, but she did not answer the questions given to her, not immediately at least. Most people did not respond well to their life’s work being questioned, but woman was merely a folk tale to most, and so seemed not to mind the accusatory words from those she had let find ehr. ”But you ask without looking. You are still in the mortal realm are you not? And yet the body you were born with has withered away to nothing before having met old age… in another time and place…” Her aura flickered now with that latent divine magic that seemed to coat the ambiguous woman, but her eyes did not leave Savis’. ”When you enjoyed things like music and food, and the warm embrace of one’s parents. Tell me, did you ever return to find them? Did you ever look for the man who sang to you?” Her words were not accusatory like the Nuit before her, but soft and warm. There remained no pity in them, but a genuine curiosity and a slight hint of care for someone she did not know. Still, the undead mage might be able to detect a hint of knowing in her aura as if she asked the question to hear Savis confirm what she already knew.

The Chrone would wait to hear Savis’ words completely before turning to the Akvatari, and focusing her ancient gaze on the other one. ”And you, such a beautiful soul. Leth saw something in you, that I do not doubt, young one. But in all your lives, your soul has always yearned for the same thing, I find this transformation that your people live through to be interesting, especially so because your mortal seeming make it difficult for me to see, and yet when you are in your patron deity’s domain, your past lives are far too clear to me. You speak of past lives as if you remember them? Tell, one of your lives must have been that of an Akvatari woman, am I correct? But do you remember the last mortal form you sang with, before Leth took you into his domain?” Again the Chrone spoke with curiosity, although her knowing eyes shared that she already knew the answers to the questions she asked, but was searching for the wording that her visitors would use instead. She seemed to be guiding the Akvatari into coming to a realization, or perhaps teasing the answers she sought. She again waited until Mauriel had spoken all of what she would have liked to say, not answering any questions the curious one had immediately.

”I don’t think it is a coincidence at all that you’ve found each other in this life. But whether or not it is helpful to know or not is uncertain.” She set the cards onto the table, expert hands sliding the stack so that they spread in an even and satisfying arc away from her towards the women, although she did not offer them one. Instead she selected one herself, studying the thing as if there were fine lines of text written all over its face that she was trying to decipher. After a three ticks, with surprisingly nimble hands for her age, the Chrone swept the cards up one more time, holding them one hand as they disappeared beneath the table.

”Knowledge is a great and powerful thing, and knowledge of times forgotten is even more so. I bring you to me today because I am intrigued by your stark difference in immortality as well as how your Chavi intertwines so closely after so much distance and time. But you must tell me why you seek this knowledge. What will you do with it? Will you reject your loving God?” Her tone hardened, a warning as her eyes searched Mauriel’s, reading infinite outcomes to their current conversation. ”Will you attempt to hide from the past and disrupt the natural progression of your Chavi?” Black eyes cut to Savis. The earlier warmness was filled with suspicion now, watching for meaning that was greater than the mere words, but still listening to what the curious women had to explain themselves.
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Last edited by Neologism on January 28th, 2019, 2:25 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Some Fogs Are Forever (Savis)

Postby Mauriel on January 28th, 2019, 11:07 am

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Mauriel was a bit surprised at Savis' words, casting an annoyed gaze at the undead. Truthfully, she saw reason for skepticism herself, but was enjoying the immersion and disliked being reminded of cold facts. However, she did grow quite fond of Savis and was willing to let things like this slide. She understood the inquisitive mind of the undead didn't quite express it as she did, for Savis sought to break apart and understand large and difficult concepts that were beyond the Akvatari's grasp. She wondered whether her expressive gaze was just her trying to prove herself to the Crone, rather than any honest display of annoyance.

The Crone expressed many of the things Mauriel felt herself. How can one display such disbelief, after being granted immortality by magic, after meeting those to whom it was granted by Gods, and walking into a place that was not there moments before? If anybody could tell you the past and the future, wouldn't it be this person? But the Crone's words soon turned another way, progressing towards a memory they seemed to want to invoke in Savis. Was she fond of music as a girl? A soft smile appeared on the Akvatari's face, thinking how Tunes might be appreciated more than she had hoped. But this joy was soon washed away by worry, as she wondered whether the androgynous seer's words pierced deeper then called for. Was Savis even free to look for her loved ones, or was she bound to her Nuit master? Was it too late by the time her chains were broken? Mauriel would listen to Savis with interest, for beyond being worried, she was also curious. She knew precious little about her friend, even less so about the more dark and vulnerable sides of her, and while she was not happy they were being prodded like this, she was also not going to miss any clues that might emerge.

As the attention shifted back to her, Mauriel braced herself for a bit of the same verbal manhandling. They were clearly being tested, and while the silver tongue was elegant and gentle in its mysticism, one could clearly feel a motherly sternness coming from it. Or could they? As she listened, Mauriel noted that it was not within the melody of the voice itself, but rather the meaning she ascribed to it. "I do, I do somewhat remember my past lives. But the memories truly come at night. Right now... I remember remembering it, I suppose. I don't recall the memories with any degree of vividness, I just know of their contents." She paused. It always gave her a pause. She was certainly used to it by now, but disliked contemplating it. The way some part of herself was gently locked away as Syna rose in the sky was far too reminiscent of the way she felt torn apart by her fall, some aspects of herself forever locked away beyond reach. While this phenomenon was not as intense during her transformation, and was rather unnoticeable until one started thinking about it, it was still stung. "You are correct that I was an Akvatari woman at some point. I was a man after, a Vantha. But I don't know much about that man, no." She did recall something, though. Perhaps a tiny piece of evidence.

"Go to sleep, my little dove
Syna's resting, peaceful, tame
Dreams of songbirds, fields, and love
Gently now, restore their claim"


Her voice deepened as she sung, fruitlessly trying to emulate a man's baritone. She remembered precious little Vani, and even less of their songs, but for almost a season now this lullabye - or rather a part of it - was stuck in her head. She reconstructed it bit by bit, fixing some words, trying to recall the Vani roots and restore the melody of the words, but she was probably still considerably off.

Eager to know the answers, Mauriel perked up when the conversation went back to their questions. She was also excited by The Crone's proclamation of uncertainty. So the truth was uncertain, even to the seers. Perhaps some things are more solid than others, but people do in fact shape their own destinies. She thought that in that one way at least they were more akin to Gods than animals.

Perhaps Mauriel shouldn't have been surprised that her dose of testing would come as soon as she put her guard down, but she was. Reject her loving God? Why would she do something like that? As much as she wanted to reassure the prying woman that she of course would do no such a thing, a pang of guilt tied her tongue. She did it too many times to count, and many more. How can she reassure somebody sternly, knowing what she knows now, with the insight Leth had given her into the nature of her useless soul? She couldn't tell truth from lie herself, genuine belief from self-deception. "What is Chavi?" she asked instead. "If it's something like destiny... I want to pursue it." That much she knew. She did want it. Whether she would do so was still too much to claim. The weakness in her resolve made her feel ashamed, and it was hard to keep her eyes on the Crone's piercing midnight gems. She forced herself to do it, even as the glisten emerging right above her lower lids made her look like a weak little child, and anger was bubbling up within her, self-righteous toxicity fighting to emerge. At last she caved. Her head turned, gaze lowering, a bitter expression on her face. Defeat taken poorly. She wanted to run out at that moment, go be alone, compose herself, and come back to be a stronger and more polite, self-reflective person, but it was still all for show. She wanted it so she would appear to be virtuous, more than she truly wanted to grow. She sighed, still looking at the near edge of the table. "I'm still to a large degree a person I used to be. When I fell, I hardly knew who I am. I discover it by the day, and I'm not too pleased with every surprise. I can only hope to learn from mistakes of the past."

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