Sanjah leaned forward as the Feir'dal began his magic, watching every move he made intensely. She bit down on her lower lip, her head cocked sideways as he finished his silent spell and a large book appeared in his hand.
To watch magic, as it was happening, never failed to amaze her and leave her completely awestruck. A burst of excitement ran through her veins like a small shock of electricity at the realization that she, too, would be able to conduct such magic as time went on. This was really happening; she was to be a Druidess. She would, one day, be able to command nature's gifts all on her own and she couldn't help but smile at the thought.
Will had given her his own smile, a sparkle in his green eyes. "Is now a good time?"
She raised her brow again, a grin still playing on her lips. "Do you always answer a question with another question?" She asked him, a hint of laughter in her voice.
Her grin faded into a warm smile as she hoped she wasn't giving him too hard of a time. She had a personality as fiery as a dragon's breath, and hadn't quite mastered the knowledge of when her spunky comments were or were not appropriate.
"It's always a good time for learning," she added as an afterthought.
A new light
Moderator: Candlelights
Will chuckled at the drakkin's comment, yes he was far too Socratic at times. It would seem that Sanjah would be a willing student, and thankfully, one who could think and reason on her own, as evidenced by her....what did humans call it..... spunk?
"That is true, sentient existence by definition is learning. Look at the people who have ceased to learn, does life really beat within them, or have they joined the apathetic and damned, dieing long before their body ceases its weary function?" The Feir'dal laughed gently at himself. "But I posses a wicked and audacious affection for playing the sage on the mountain top don't I? I will boorishly belabor personal meditations upon the holy scriptures of the goddess some other time, you asked my help to become a Taur'amandil not an Amandil." Will ceased his chatter for a moment, letting his thoughts find the proper path. He listened song of the waves as they amorously embraced the sands, then realizing the scandal of the liquid medium lusting after the solid, drawing hastily back, blushing chastely at their temporary loss of composure, only to lose themselves again in the heat of passion.
The eternal litany gradualy brought the druid's thoughts to proper order once more. "Amin hiraetha, my mind wanders today. First before we start on theory or technique, I must ask of you a question, the most important you will encounter on this path. Do not give the answer you think i wish to hear, for the only person you can fail is yourself." The Feir'dal gazed intently at Sanjah, eyes shining with the light of a sun now beginning its slow descent. "Who are you? If it is a druid.... what then is a druid to you...power, glory, valor, flesh, thought, mercy, justice? Moreover, if this is what you are, what then is it your aspiration to become?" Will smiled gently and closed his eyes. "You dont have to answer now, and not even to me. Simply consider it." The elf grinned ruefully, "I am still seeking a solution to this cruel and endless quest of question on which my teacher, also being my grandfather, sent me to stumble as well. Tell me when you are ready to continue, or..... perhaps,..answer."
"That is true, sentient existence by definition is learning. Look at the people who have ceased to learn, does life really beat within them, or have they joined the apathetic and damned, dieing long before their body ceases its weary function?" The Feir'dal laughed gently at himself. "But I posses a wicked and audacious affection for playing the sage on the mountain top don't I? I will boorishly belabor personal meditations upon the holy scriptures of the goddess some other time, you asked my help to become a Taur'amandil not an Amandil." Will ceased his chatter for a moment, letting his thoughts find the proper path. He listened song of the waves as they amorously embraced the sands, then realizing the scandal of the liquid medium lusting after the solid, drawing hastily back, blushing chastely at their temporary loss of composure, only to lose themselves again in the heat of passion.
The eternal litany gradualy brought the druid's thoughts to proper order once more. "Amin hiraetha, my mind wanders today. First before we start on theory or technique, I must ask of you a question, the most important you will encounter on this path. Do not give the answer you think i wish to hear, for the only person you can fail is yourself." The Feir'dal gazed intently at Sanjah, eyes shining with the light of a sun now beginning its slow descent. "Who are you? If it is a druid.... what then is a druid to you...power, glory, valor, flesh, thought, mercy, justice? Moreover, if this is what you are, what then is it your aspiration to become?" Will smiled gently and closed his eyes. "You dont have to answer now, and not even to me. Simply consider it." The elf grinned ruefully, "I am still seeking a solution to this cruel and endless quest of question on which my teacher, also being my grandfather, sent me to stumble as well. Tell me when you are ready to continue, or..... perhaps,..answer."
By now Jetamio had looped back round and was nearing them again. But lost in her own world, she didn't notice until she heard Willowens voice and stopped. They were still far enough away that she wouldn't be an intrusion, but she could hear every word spoken. She sat down near the waters edge, again pondering the strange alchemy of her own blood. She still had her elven range of hearing and sight, and sometimes she thought these were even magnified by the Dragon blood. Despite everything, she still felt Fier'Dal at heart, though she knew the Dragons magic could not be reversed. Tunare had called her back, changed her slightly, but even she had not been able to change the fact that she was now Drakkin forever more.
She had been careful to read the Lore of her new people in her attempt to feel like one of them. But she was not like them, she was not a Dragon touched human child who woke up from the 'human dream' that would quickly be forgotten. She had been a centuries old Fier'Dal, changed in a fiery abuse of magic by Atathus the Red Lord. She almost pitied him now. He thought he had won, but the very thing he took from her, other than her magic, was what she hadn't even known she had. Thinking of him, she frowned, fervently hoping that she did not become like Dyn'Leth, the only other Drakkin of elven blood that she knew of. She silently vowed never to enter Ashengate without some sort of protection against the influence of the Scale of Veeshan, whose magic was twisted for Dyn'Leth's own desires.
"Who are you? If it is a druid.... what then is a druid to you...power, glory, valor, flesh, thought, mercy, justice? Moreover, if this is what you are, what then is it your aspiration to become?"
His words cut through her chain of thought, starting another. Who am I? She suddenly thought back to her childhood and her mother. Her mother who was half elf, though now that she thought about it, she had never asked what the other half was. Altáriël was the name given to her at birth by the Elders, and no one alive but her knew it. Her mother had insisted on calling her Jetamio, and it had just stuck. Even the Elders gave up calling her Altáriël, despite recording that as her name in the records, because she didn't answer to the name. It was not until she was around 10 seasons that she asked one why they sometimes called her Altáriël.
Aspirations...this question had been asked of her by Licinia before. She had not been able to answer back then, and even now the picture was still fuzzy. She knew one thing, she would not aim high again, despite sometimes wishing for her old power. She had caused enough trouble by killing Vishimtar and Yar'Lir, allowing the Curse of Venril Sathir to befall the Nest, in effect helping to make the remaining Dragons to make this new race she was now part of. And then the matter of Mayong Mistmoore... she forced those memorries out of her head, she must stop blaming herself alone for all this. She had simply followed orders.
She sighed and lay back upon the grass, looking up at the clear skies. She closed her eyes briefly, listening for the earthsong above her racing thoughts. Then she heard it, and almost instantly her mind calmed. She lay there silently, listening to the wind through the trees, the breeze also playing with a tendril of her hair and tickling her face with it. The steady rythym of the waves beat like a drum for the wind to play the melody. No, she decided, she would not follow that path again. This time her only desire was a mate and children, and to live in harmony in this beautiful, but sometimes dangerous world. Venesh had taught her as much, telling her that while she was beautiful, she was also dangerous as the poison in her veins symbolised. One with nature, beautiful and dangerous.
Then she sneezed. Her nose had finally given in to the breeze that tickled it, and she sat up again, knees up, her arms wrapped lightly around them as she looked over the water, but listened quietly to Willowens lesson to Sanjah.
She had been careful to read the Lore of her new people in her attempt to feel like one of them. But she was not like them, she was not a Dragon touched human child who woke up from the 'human dream' that would quickly be forgotten. She had been a centuries old Fier'Dal, changed in a fiery abuse of magic by Atathus the Red Lord. She almost pitied him now. He thought he had won, but the very thing he took from her, other than her magic, was what she hadn't even known she had. Thinking of him, she frowned, fervently hoping that she did not become like Dyn'Leth, the only other Drakkin of elven blood that she knew of. She silently vowed never to enter Ashengate without some sort of protection against the influence of the Scale of Veeshan, whose magic was twisted for Dyn'Leth's own desires.
"Who are you? If it is a druid.... what then is a druid to you...power, glory, valor, flesh, thought, mercy, justice? Moreover, if this is what you are, what then is it your aspiration to become?"
His words cut through her chain of thought, starting another. Who am I? She suddenly thought back to her childhood and her mother. Her mother who was half elf, though now that she thought about it, she had never asked what the other half was. Altáriël was the name given to her at birth by the Elders, and no one alive but her knew it. Her mother had insisted on calling her Jetamio, and it had just stuck. Even the Elders gave up calling her Altáriël, despite recording that as her name in the records, because she didn't answer to the name. It was not until she was around 10 seasons that she asked one why they sometimes called her Altáriël.
Aspirations...this question had been asked of her by Licinia before. She had not been able to answer back then, and even now the picture was still fuzzy. She knew one thing, she would not aim high again, despite sometimes wishing for her old power. She had caused enough trouble by killing Vishimtar and Yar'Lir, allowing the Curse of Venril Sathir to befall the Nest, in effect helping to make the remaining Dragons to make this new race she was now part of. And then the matter of Mayong Mistmoore... she forced those memorries out of her head, she must stop blaming herself alone for all this. She had simply followed orders.
She sighed and lay back upon the grass, looking up at the clear skies. She closed her eyes briefly, listening for the earthsong above her racing thoughts. Then she heard it, and almost instantly her mind calmed. She lay there silently, listening to the wind through the trees, the breeze also playing with a tendril of her hair and tickling her face with it. The steady rythym of the waves beat like a drum for the wind to play the melody. No, she decided, she would not follow that path again. This time her only desire was a mate and children, and to live in harmony in this beautiful, but sometimes dangerous world. Venesh had taught her as much, telling her that while she was beautiful, she was also dangerous as the poison in her veins symbolised. One with nature, beautiful and dangerous.
Then she sneezed. Her nose had finally given in to the breeze that tickled it, and she sat up again, knees up, her arms wrapped lightly around them as she looked over the water, but listened quietly to Willowens lesson to Sanjah.
Sanjah smiled warmly at Willowen as he chuckled at her question. She was relieved that he hadn't taken it disrespectfully and she decided, at that moment, that he was indeed a perfect mentor for her; one who understood her personality and didn't take offense to her comments.
She listened carefully as the prose-like musings escaped his lips. The Feir`dal gave her much to think about, and she enjoyed his philosophies greatly. They were far from ordinary and they would keep her mind busy for hours.
He silenced himself for a moment, and the young Drakkin studied him closely. His looks were seemingly boyish; the messy locks of brown hair that never failed to fall loose around his face, his green eyes that held a youthful dance of light almost constantly, his lips which would grace a mischievous grin now and then which made her wonder what the elf was thinking.
Something moved in the corner of her eye which tore her thoughts from the Feir`dal for a moment as she turned her head. Jetamio had rounded the pond once again and Sanjah wondered if the other Drakkin would approach.
Her thoughts were halted by Willowen's warning of a question, and her eyes turned back to her mentor. He was gazing at her with a look of seriousness as he asked who she was, who she aspired to be.
She bit her bottom lip and instinctively reached up, grabbing a strand of blue hair and twisting it in her fingertips as she thought hard about the question.
As if he sensed her slight unease, he smiled at her and comforted her with the proposition of simply considering the question. Though she was sure he knew her well enough to know that she would not back down from the challenge of an answer; she just had to process it, turning it over and over in her head before her thoughts would come to fruition.
Her eyes closed and she felt the cool mist from the waterfall throughout her nostrils, she concentrated on the sounds of the breeze, of the water falling down off the rocks and the fish jumping in the pond. This was a question that she had asked herself many times since her awakening, and one she wasn't sure she had the answer to.
She opened her eyes and looked at her teacher. His own eyes were closed now and he grinned as he admitted that he was asked the same question by his grandfather. She opened her mouth to speak, though it took a few moments before sound actually escaped her lips.
"I am no so prideful that I would consider myself a Druid yet. I am a student of nature's magic, and one day I wish to be able to command nature on my own without any worry or self-consciousness. I wish to become a druid because it is what is real to me. It allows all the qualities which you listed, with the ability of being able to feel the dirt in your hands, the wind in your hair and the rain in your face. It is more than just speaking words and watching the magic take place; it is both tangible and supernatural at the same time, filling the soul with excitement and passion as one's hands wield nature's gifts."
Her eyes closed once again as she tilted her head back to the now setting sun, letting the light bathe her face in warmth. A deep breath filled her lungs and her lopsided grin graced her lips once again.
She listened carefully as the prose-like musings escaped his lips. The Feir`dal gave her much to think about, and she enjoyed his philosophies greatly. They were far from ordinary and they would keep her mind busy for hours.
He silenced himself for a moment, and the young Drakkin studied him closely. His looks were seemingly boyish; the messy locks of brown hair that never failed to fall loose around his face, his green eyes that held a youthful dance of light almost constantly, his lips which would grace a mischievous grin now and then which made her wonder what the elf was thinking.
Something moved in the corner of her eye which tore her thoughts from the Feir`dal for a moment as she turned her head. Jetamio had rounded the pond once again and Sanjah wondered if the other Drakkin would approach.
Her thoughts were halted by Willowen's warning of a question, and her eyes turned back to her mentor. He was gazing at her with a look of seriousness as he asked who she was, who she aspired to be.
She bit her bottom lip and instinctively reached up, grabbing a strand of blue hair and twisting it in her fingertips as she thought hard about the question.
As if he sensed her slight unease, he smiled at her and comforted her with the proposition of simply considering the question. Though she was sure he knew her well enough to know that she would not back down from the challenge of an answer; she just had to process it, turning it over and over in her head before her thoughts would come to fruition.
Her eyes closed and she felt the cool mist from the waterfall throughout her nostrils, she concentrated on the sounds of the breeze, of the water falling down off the rocks and the fish jumping in the pond. This was a question that she had asked herself many times since her awakening, and one she wasn't sure she had the answer to.
She opened her eyes and looked at her teacher. His own eyes were closed now and he grinned as he admitted that he was asked the same question by his grandfather. She opened her mouth to speak, though it took a few moments before sound actually escaped her lips.
"I am no so prideful that I would consider myself a Druid yet. I am a student of nature's magic, and one day I wish to be able to command nature on my own without any worry or self-consciousness. I wish to become a druid because it is what is real to me. It allows all the qualities which you listed, with the ability of being able to feel the dirt in your hands, the wind in your hair and the rain in your face. It is more than just speaking words and watching the magic take place; it is both tangible and supernatural at the same time, filling the soul with excitement and passion as one's hands wield nature's gifts."
Her eyes closed once again as she tilted her head back to the now setting sun, letting the light bathe her face in warmth. A deep breath filled her lungs and her lopsided grin graced her lips once again.
The Feir'dal listened silently Sanjah's answer, absorbing both what she said and the poetry of feeling that surged behind the drakkin's words. As she spoke of experiencing the sacred art, the duality of its essence and the unbridled joy that came from a connection to all it represented, the smile on his face deepened into one of empathetic appreciation. She understood, indeed much better then he had as an innate. The drakkin had seen the beating heart, a knowledge and relationship that time would deepen and fulfil continually, crafting all that touched it in its own image. Will had taken far longer to realize this, magic had come with unnatural ease to him, and he had thus regarded it as a toy that would do whatever he wished. Not till he left the Havens twenty years ago and came to Kelethin had he come to comprehend his grandfather's deep sorrow in face of his grandson's lack of reverence. He began to look forward to seeing what the sapphire-haired girl would surprise him with next.
Will opened his eyes and looked at Sanjah, returning the grin she wore. "Well that was certainly the most apt answer any of my students have ever given. You are far closer to becoming a druid then you realize, Sanjah." The Feir'dal removed the fingerless gloves from his hands, careful not to touch the drakkin, lest the "gift" with which he was born, manifest and reek havoc. Letting mana build like damn water once again within him, the druid reached toward the design he had drawn earlier upon the ground. Placing his hand upon it, Will released the flows, sending them surging through the tracings. The lines filled with golden and silver light, illuminating the image of a sun and moon each forming half of one entity. The Sun had its eye closed and smiled with content serenity, while the moon stared with a uninterpretable expression. Will turned to Sanjah, emeralds sparkling, making sure to keep his hands cautiously on his knees. "Now, i humbly present the two paths of druidism, meet sister Luna and brother Sol."
Will opened his eyes and looked at Sanjah, returning the grin she wore. "Well that was certainly the most apt answer any of my students have ever given. You are far closer to becoming a druid then you realize, Sanjah." The Feir'dal removed the fingerless gloves from his hands, careful not to touch the drakkin, lest the "gift" with which he was born, manifest and reek havoc. Letting mana build like damn water once again within him, the druid reached toward the design he had drawn earlier upon the ground. Placing his hand upon it, Will released the flows, sending them surging through the tracings. The lines filled with golden and silver light, illuminating the image of a sun and moon each forming half of one entity. The Sun had its eye closed and smiled with content serenity, while the moon stared with a uninterpretable expression. Will turned to Sanjah, emeralds sparkling, making sure to keep his hands cautiously on his knees. "Now, i humbly present the two paths of druidism, meet sister Luna and brother Sol."
Sanjah couldn't help but feel a burst of pride at Willowen's compliment and her grin opened into a genuine, tooth-baring smile. She returned to seriousness, however, as the Feir'dal removed his gloves and began messing with the image he had drawn in the dirt.
She watched, again completely awestruck, as the lights danced in front of her eyes, bringing life to the drawing in bright silver and gold. The image was one she had seen before in the library, a warm and friendly picture of the sun and moon as one.
She looked up at Willowen and moved closer to both him and the drawing, completely oblivious to his cautiousness with his hands. As she knelt down on her knees, she gazed fondly upon the image and allowed her own hand to hover over it, inspired by the magical illumination and letting the enchantment radiate her skin.
"Two paths?" She asked curiously as she drew her hand away and looked to her mentor, "Does one have to choose between the two, or do they work as one like the image presents?"
She watched, again completely awestruck, as the lights danced in front of her eyes, bringing life to the drawing in bright silver and gold. The image was one she had seen before in the library, a warm and friendly picture of the sun and moon as one.
She looked up at Willowen and moved closer to both him and the drawing, completely oblivious to his cautiousness with his hands. As she knelt down on her knees, she gazed fondly upon the image and allowed her own hand to hover over it, inspired by the magical illumination and letting the enchantment radiate her skin.
"Two paths?" She asked curiously as she drew her hand away and looked to her mentor, "Does one have to choose between the two, or do they work as one like the image presents?"
The druid paused considering a way in which he could properly explain. An obvious path appeared of course, but it flew in the
face of caution and fear. Yet, who else could this be shown... its was how he had been taught this lesson. Surely there was another
way, other naturewalkers had learned this lesson with the aid of his gift. What if it happened again, the "touch" manifesting without
the exertion or application of his will? Clearing his mind of temptation towards the easy and quick solution, the Feir'dal smiled and
met Sanjah's gaze.
"Yes no, and yes," Will said in a soft voice and looked to where the sun gradually sank below the horizon. "They are not as good and evil, but more akin in dualism to flesh and spirit, ice and mist, man and woman...different expressions and aspects of the same essence." The elf indicated the golden sun. "The path of Sol follows and revere the life-giving aspect of nature, the world is a thing of intricate and wondrous order, every part a miracle of design and complexity. Within the light of the sun all is revealed and nothing is left to mystery. Thus, this path emphasizes simplicity of spirit and honesty, with others and most importantly yourself." Taking a short breath he continued. "Yet, on this other side is Luna. She represents the more feral and chaotic part of the life pattern. The world is not just a construction but an experience; pain, joy, love, sorrow, and exultation each are a part and should be savored for their sacred thrill. The shadowed sister also emphasizes that life is mystery, seeking to expose the sacred trappings of the unknown is a sign of dissatisfaction with existence. For life is a bland and tasteless
monotony without the inexplicable sensations to give it deity and awe."
Will faltered, unable to explain further without... no he shouldn't.. but... how else could he speak the unutterable?
The gift with which he had been born..."the touch".. the ability to with physical contact, gain insight into the nature of a person or object.
It was often mistaken for future sight, but in truth it was nothing of the sort, quite the opposite in fact. This gift merely provided intimate
knowledge and analysis of what a thing was, what it would eventually become was something left to the contemplation of the possessor. Thus, the Feir'dal's conjectures concerning the future were simple educated guesses, his just tended to be far more educated then others....Prophecy was for mystics and shamans... the elf no more saw the future then he laid eggs. His ability could also, through its melding of impression and essence, at times allowed Will to share memory and insight with others, often times with those who would better comprehend it. With a inward sigh, he took Sanjah's hand, overcoming hesitation born from a past mistake.
"Here... this is what i mean."
The sun rose majestically over the snow-capped peak, smiling upon the valley bellow. Light shone through leaves, stirring the subtle chloroplasts and life-force within them to action. It warmed flesh and bone, sending the blood along on its endless race. Trees stood as stoic pillars, channeling the life within the ground to met with that of the sky. All was in harmony, a gloriously revealed perfection of form. A circle of green-robed figure stood in circle, bathed in the rays of the reborn patriarch. Their reverent hymns rose and filled the forest, rejoicing and proclaiming the coming of dawn.
A wolf panted beneath the silver moonlight as it lopped effortlessly through the tall grasses. As the sun sleeped the world awakened, free to revel in its breath-taking mystery. Winds whispered through trees, who could know what tales it told? Growls and stirrings rustled in rushes, no bard knew what epic meetings and savage dramas where played out upon the midnight stage. All was as it should be, the lady of the wilds gave or took life as she willed, for reasons unknowable yet undeniable by those who thrived and died within her creation. A eerie song rose over the tundra as maidens danced naked before the moon, covered with symbols and runes that echoed the primal sonnet. They sang with all their being, fearlessly glorifying in the taste of existence
Will flushed at his boldness, and withdrew his hand, extinguishing the enchanted lights with a thought. "Im sorry.. i dont know why i did that.. forgive me."
face of caution and fear. Yet, who else could this be shown... its was how he had been taught this lesson. Surely there was another
way, other naturewalkers had learned this lesson with the aid of his gift. What if it happened again, the "touch" manifesting without
the exertion or application of his will? Clearing his mind of temptation towards the easy and quick solution, the Feir'dal smiled and
met Sanjah's gaze.
"Yes no, and yes," Will said in a soft voice and looked to where the sun gradually sank below the horizon. "They are not as good and evil, but more akin in dualism to flesh and spirit, ice and mist, man and woman...different expressions and aspects of the same essence." The elf indicated the golden sun. "The path of Sol follows and revere the life-giving aspect of nature, the world is a thing of intricate and wondrous order, every part a miracle of design and complexity. Within the light of the sun all is revealed and nothing is left to mystery. Thus, this path emphasizes simplicity of spirit and honesty, with others and most importantly yourself." Taking a short breath he continued. "Yet, on this other side is Luna. She represents the more feral and chaotic part of the life pattern. The world is not just a construction but an experience; pain, joy, love, sorrow, and exultation each are a part and should be savored for their sacred thrill. The shadowed sister also emphasizes that life is mystery, seeking to expose the sacred trappings of the unknown is a sign of dissatisfaction with existence. For life is a bland and tasteless
monotony without the inexplicable sensations to give it deity and awe."
Will faltered, unable to explain further without... no he shouldn't.. but... how else could he speak the unutterable?
The gift with which he had been born..."the touch".. the ability to with physical contact, gain insight into the nature of a person or object.
It was often mistaken for future sight, but in truth it was nothing of the sort, quite the opposite in fact. This gift merely provided intimate
knowledge and analysis of what a thing was, what it would eventually become was something left to the contemplation of the possessor. Thus, the Feir'dal's conjectures concerning the future were simple educated guesses, his just tended to be far more educated then others....Prophecy was for mystics and shamans... the elf no more saw the future then he laid eggs. His ability could also, through its melding of impression and essence, at times allowed Will to share memory and insight with others, often times with those who would better comprehend it. With a inward sigh, he took Sanjah's hand, overcoming hesitation born from a past mistake.
"Here... this is what i mean."
The sun rose majestically over the snow-capped peak, smiling upon the valley bellow. Light shone through leaves, stirring the subtle chloroplasts and life-force within them to action. It warmed flesh and bone, sending the blood along on its endless race. Trees stood as stoic pillars, channeling the life within the ground to met with that of the sky. All was in harmony, a gloriously revealed perfection of form. A circle of green-robed figure stood in circle, bathed in the rays of the reborn patriarch. Their reverent hymns rose and filled the forest, rejoicing and proclaiming the coming of dawn.
A wolf panted beneath the silver moonlight as it lopped effortlessly through the tall grasses. As the sun sleeped the world awakened, free to revel in its breath-taking mystery. Winds whispered through trees, who could know what tales it told? Growls and stirrings rustled in rushes, no bard knew what epic meetings and savage dramas where played out upon the midnight stage. All was as it should be, the lady of the wilds gave or took life as she willed, for reasons unknowable yet undeniable by those who thrived and died within her creation. A eerie song rose over the tundra as maidens danced naked before the moon, covered with symbols and runes that echoed the primal sonnet. They sang with all their being, fearlessly glorifying in the taste of existence
Will flushed at his boldness, and withdrew his hand, extinguishing the enchanted lights with a thought. "Im sorry.. i dont know why i did that.. forgive me."
Last edited by Willowen on Wed Mar 21, 2007 1:04 am, edited 2 times in total.
((You're absolutely evil - that yellow is... wow. *laughs and clears throat*))
Sanjah watched her mentor closely, noticing the change in his eyes as he sat in silence. There was a brief flash of worry amidst his contemplating, making the student curious as to what he was thinking.
She didn't have time to dwell upon it; almost as suddenly as his expression changed he began to speak softly.
She listened as he began answering her questions and she turned her eyes back to the illuminated sketch on the ground. He explained the paths of the sun and moon, Sol and Luna -- their similarities, their differences and how they related to one's life.
Habitually, the druid-in-training reached up to her hair and began to twist and curl a lock of it around her finger tips. Willowen spoke of experience, of emotions that she couldn't remember having before and she frowned slightly.
As far as she knew, she had never experienced those things at all, though common sense wouldn't let her believe that. She was intelligent after all, possibly even wiser than her human age of twenty-three years. Since her Awakening though, she was as innocent as a new born babe. She trusted and she loved without the pain or fear of being hurt in the past. She knew of the thrill that he spoke of, but only a shallow version of such as most of her insight came from the books she had read to quell her insatiable hunger for learning.
Willowen fell silent again, and Sanjah returned her eyes to the Feir`dal. She pulled her hand from the drawing and placed it on her lap as she studied his puzzlement. He was debating something in his mind, for his eyes were weary. Just as she was going to ask him what it was, he reached over and grabbed her hand.
Sanjah's eyes widened as she felt his warm touch against her fingertips. She felt as if she had swallowed a hundred butterflies and a bolt of electricity all at the same time. Her thoughts lasted only a moment, however, and she went into a trance-like state as he shared his vision with her.
She saw the sun, glistening over the mountain top. The shining light beamed through the leaves and the trees, waking everything up that it touched. There were several figures in a circle, singing of the glory of the sun... The entire scene was beautiful, and Sanjah could feel the warmth even in her own body.
And then things changed -- it was late at night and the moon lit the paths in the darkness. There was an eerie feeling to the trees and grasses now, a mysterious sense of the wild. She heard voices singing and she looked to find them, her eyes widening when she did. Naked maidens, chanting to the moon.... She tried to get a closer look, intrigued by their song and their magics....
And then it was over. She blinked several times as the dragon's grove surrounded her again, the Feir`dal's hand withdrawn and the picture was no longer shining. Her cheeks had become slightly red and she looked to the elf with a curious expression.
"Do not apologize... It was... amazing," she said, stumbling around her sudden loss for words, "But... how did you... what was..."
She frowned and took a deep breath, trying to regain her composure.
"How did you do that," She finally asked, still staring pointedly into his eyes, "And what was it exactly?"
She bit her lower lip and turned her eyes to the ground in front of them, afraid that her questions may have been too prying.
Sanjah watched her mentor closely, noticing the change in his eyes as he sat in silence. There was a brief flash of worry amidst his contemplating, making the student curious as to what he was thinking.
She didn't have time to dwell upon it; almost as suddenly as his expression changed he began to speak softly.
She listened as he began answering her questions and she turned her eyes back to the illuminated sketch on the ground. He explained the paths of the sun and moon, Sol and Luna -- their similarities, their differences and how they related to one's life.
Habitually, the druid-in-training reached up to her hair and began to twist and curl a lock of it around her finger tips. Willowen spoke of experience, of emotions that she couldn't remember having before and she frowned slightly.
As far as she knew, she had never experienced those things at all, though common sense wouldn't let her believe that. She was intelligent after all, possibly even wiser than her human age of twenty-three years. Since her Awakening though, she was as innocent as a new born babe. She trusted and she loved without the pain or fear of being hurt in the past. She knew of the thrill that he spoke of, but only a shallow version of such as most of her insight came from the books she had read to quell her insatiable hunger for learning.
Willowen fell silent again, and Sanjah returned her eyes to the Feir`dal. She pulled her hand from the drawing and placed it on her lap as she studied his puzzlement. He was debating something in his mind, for his eyes were weary. Just as she was going to ask him what it was, he reached over and grabbed her hand.
Sanjah's eyes widened as she felt his warm touch against her fingertips. She felt as if she had swallowed a hundred butterflies and a bolt of electricity all at the same time. Her thoughts lasted only a moment, however, and she went into a trance-like state as he shared his vision with her.
She saw the sun, glistening over the mountain top. The shining light beamed through the leaves and the trees, waking everything up that it touched. There were several figures in a circle, singing of the glory of the sun... The entire scene was beautiful, and Sanjah could feel the warmth even in her own body.
And then things changed -- it was late at night and the moon lit the paths in the darkness. There was an eerie feeling to the trees and grasses now, a mysterious sense of the wild. She heard voices singing and she looked to find them, her eyes widening when she did. Naked maidens, chanting to the moon.... She tried to get a closer look, intrigued by their song and their magics....
And then it was over. She blinked several times as the dragon's grove surrounded her again, the Feir`dal's hand withdrawn and the picture was no longer shining. Her cheeks had become slightly red and she looked to the elf with a curious expression.
"Do not apologize... It was... amazing," she said, stumbling around her sudden loss for words, "But... how did you... what was..."
She frowned and took a deep breath, trying to regain her composure.
"How did you do that," She finally asked, still staring pointedly into his eyes, "And what was it exactly?"
She bit her lower lip and turned her eyes to the ground in front of them, afraid that her questions may have been too prying.
The Feir'dal smiled slightly, feeling like a foolish street conjurer, and shrugged. "How?, in return i might ask you how to breathe or speak sentences. It comes so naturally that it's almost an involuntary process. True, it fails sometimes, just as one cannot always find the words to say or the strength to speak them, but on the whole it responds with mere whim. As for what it is..." Will ran a hand through his hair and contemplated the grass in thought. "It is actually not an extraordinary or even extremely rare gift, as i was surprised to learn when i started looking into it a month or so ago. All communal creatures posses it in some measure, allowing them to work and function harmoniously. My people has the highest percentage, with the vah shir and halflings in close pursuit." Indeed, it had been a fascinating discovery, quite different from the notions of a "higher level of being" the sages in the Havens attached to the gift, Will had always been slightly suspicious of the near deification which they to regarded the "touch". The druid met Sanjah's eyes and continued. "I simply posses an unusual concentration of this intuition. What is it exactly? That I'm not sure of. An erudite i studied with described it as a type of telepathy or empathic resonance..... but that doesn't quite make sense...as it is easier for me to apply it to the inanimate, thus my passing aptitude for the construction of magical items."
Sensing the possibility of their getting irreplaceably lost on the winding paths this lesson was taking, the Feir'dal laughed and sat up. "But, all this is neither today's harvest or the next. Its time for the final lesson before i test what you know.. and it will require a demonstration." Will gave a mischievous grin that betrayed the Fae heritage of his people and closed his eyes. "Sanjah..would you hit me in the face please?"
Sensing the possibility of their getting irreplaceably lost on the winding paths this lesson was taking, the Feir'dal laughed and sat up. "But, all this is neither today's harvest or the next. Its time for the final lesson before i test what you know.. and it will require a demonstration." Will gave a mischievous grin that betrayed the Fae heritage of his people and closed his eyes. "Sanjah..would you hit me in the face please?"
Last edited by Willowen on Tue Mar 27, 2007 12:08 am, edited 1 time in total.
Sanjah listened closely to the Druid's words as he tried to explain the phenomenon that had just happened. She bit down on her lower lip as she contemplated what he was saying. She was absolutely amazed by it, simply put. To her - the entire thing was absolutely fascinating, and she hoped that in time the Feir`dal would share more stories with her about his quaint gift.
It made sense to her, as he explained his innate ability to create magical things of seemingly normal materials.
The mischievous grin that appeared on the elf's lips as he continued to speak made Sanjah raise her brow in curiosity. When he told her to hit her in the face, she did everything in her power to keep herself from choking.
Her eyes were wide and her brow furrowed, a playful, incredulous smile on her face. She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back slightly - her body language and facial expression clearly telling the Feir`dal that she thought he was insane.
"Why in the name of Veeshan's scale would I hit you in the face?" She asked, trying desperately to hold her burst of laughter inside.
((lol - I was tempted to actually have her do it... since you know, that would have been somewhat unexpected *laughs* But I couldn't figure out a way to do it properly that fit along with her character. lol. So, you'll have to excuse the predictable response.))
It made sense to her, as he explained his innate ability to create magical things of seemingly normal materials.
The mischievous grin that appeared on the elf's lips as he continued to speak made Sanjah raise her brow in curiosity. When he told her to hit her in the face, she did everything in her power to keep herself from choking.
Her eyes were wide and her brow furrowed, a playful, incredulous smile on her face. She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back slightly - her body language and facial expression clearly telling the Feir`dal that she thought he was insane.
"Why in the name of Veeshan's scale would I hit you in the face?" She asked, trying desperately to hold her burst of laughter inside.
((lol - I was tempted to actually have her do it... since you know, that would have been somewhat unexpected *laughs* But I couldn't figure out a way to do it properly that fit along with her character. lol. So, you'll have to excuse the predictable response.))
Will smiled as he noted the drakkin's feelings by the emphasis and stresses in her speech. "Because first of all, I dont think you will be able to hit me without me blocking it, nor will i react if you feign. Secondly, by humoring me you can see how its done. Its a trick innates in my homeland learn to impress foreigners ......and win their money in drunken bets ....that, unlike most frivolous things they waste their power on..." the Feir'dal grinned, remembering his more daring pranks as a novice, "has practical applications and relevance to further progression." The druid set his hands in his lap and opened up his mind to the surrounding spiritual and material ambiance. "Try it"
Sanjah was still giving the Feir`dal a look as if he were crazy. She didn't understand why her mentor would wish for her to try and hit him. Though, she supposed that he was her teacher, and it was his lesson... so she really didn't have much right to complain.
She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, praying that Veeshan would actually give her the courage to do it.
She opened her eyes, and looked into his emerald green ones. She knew he was serious, she just wasn't exactly sure how to handle it. But, she decided it would be best not to get on his bad side, and she didn't want to disappoint him... so if it was in the name of education, so be it.
She pulled her arm back slightly and swung at him, closing her eyes again before there was any impact.
She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, praying that Veeshan would actually give her the courage to do it.
She opened her eyes, and looked into his emerald green ones. She knew he was serious, she just wasn't exactly sure how to handle it. But, she decided it would be best not to get on his bad side, and she didn't want to disappoint him... so if it was in the name of education, so be it.
She pulled her arm back slightly and swung at him, closing her eyes again before there was any impact.
The druid felt the faltering formation of intention with Sanjah before she ever began physical expression of her will. Like a hill upon the vast plain, his consciousness was no longer a single point of light, but part of a infinite and all-encompassing whole. That was the secret of course, no creature could transcend the world in which it thrived, become one with the world and you became one with your fellow men. True, such communion as he was experiencing could only be achieved through deep concentration and complete singularity of attention, but it granted insight unknowable to those that toiled with book and scrolls alone.
Will caught the drakkin's blow in his hand, marveling for moment at how warm and delicate her hand was. Shoving away strange impressions that had shattered his hard-wrought trance, the Feir'dal opened his eyes and spoke softly. "Learn to open yourself to the world around you, surrendering pride and worry to the land. Soon the only hearts still unknowable will be those who have already betrayed their own being." The young man laughed gently. "Well.. thats almost enough for today....though..its time that Jetamio gets her long anticipated part to play." Green eyes sparkled mischievously as the druid glanced over his shoulder to where he now knew the other drakkin to be listening.
Will caught the drakkin's blow in his hand, marveling for moment at how warm and delicate her hand was. Shoving away strange impressions that had shattered his hard-wrought trance, the Feir'dal opened his eyes and spoke softly. "Learn to open yourself to the world around you, surrendering pride and worry to the land. Soon the only hearts still unknowable will be those who have already betrayed their own being." The young man laughed gently. "Well.. thats almost enough for today....though..its time that Jetamio gets her long anticipated part to play." Green eyes sparkled mischievously as the druid glanced over his shoulder to where he now knew the other drakkin to be listening.
She had sat quietly throughout Sanjah's lesson, listening to an extent though sometimes going off on her own tangent of thought. It wasn't that she was bored, but that some of the concepts were alien to her way of thinking and this often led her to ponder it more deeply and then missing the next words. It was during such a tangent that she heard her name mentioned, instantly bringing her back to awareness. She felt eyes upon her, and the sense of mischeif. She looked over her shoulder and caught Willowen looking at her. She stayed stock still for the smallest of moments before locking her eyes on his with her own mischeivious smile.
With a grin and slight nod to the emerald drakkin, the druid continued. "If Jetamio would be so kind as to conceal herself somewhere in this plane...i would like you, Sanjah..to seek her out using those skills known to you." The Feir'dal took a strip of cloth from one of his pouches and chuckled softly, "wearing this blindfold of course."