|
Post by Zookcan on Oct 15, 2019 14:15:48 GMT -6
Questions, Questions, Questions Eniah & Nero
After Chapter VIII Location: Alhaj Library Time of Day: Late Morning
Some time after his discussion with his loyal companion Ingeras, Eniah finally gives in to his curiosity and begins to wonder more about the goddess of air, Alya. He goes to his mentor Nero for help.
|
|
|
Post by Zookcan on Oct 15, 2019 14:56:57 GMT -6
| ENIAH your scars will be remade in gold.
________________________________________________
Light filters down from between the aged rafters, illuminating swathes of dust still thick within the library's ancient walls. Even in a structure so old, and forgotten for countless centuries, its rich with life and bustle. Horses shuffle through pages and scrolls, idling between the hallways. Others whisper softly to one another, exchanging deep, incoherent conversations about life and facts from tomes they had picked up. In the weeks that had passed since it was first rediscovered, the library had become quite busy, especially since the Oasis was taken by Water Bandits.
Such events were of little importance to Eniah, who had instead chosen to surround himself with books since he first stumbled upon this place. He could hear Salome chattering away in the background, unarguably the loudest voice in the building, while annoyed, unlucky horses fulfilled his requests.
The sounds of small wings gliding closer catches the colt's ear. He pays a glance to his kestrel, Sol, who had returned from the rafters with his claws freshly cleaned, and only a slight trace of blood on them. The bird had gone up to make a snack out of one of the small critters living high up in the library's atrium.
Afterwards, Eniah turns to Nero, who he had been standing across from. They were reading separate books; Nero had come to learn more about healing practices, probably to benefit his new role as Prophet. Eniah was simply filling his head with more information about Seroran history as he could find, when he had stumbled upon yet another paragraph about the Gods' War.
With a squint, Eniah takes his book and gently slides it next to Nero's, subtly trying to interrupt his readings. "Nero ..." He murmurs, "Tell me about Alya. Have you met her?" | |
Post No. 1 Word Count: 294 Tagging: seechem
|
|
|
Post by seechem on Oct 16, 2019 13:41:33 GMT -6
N E R O the Prophet of Serora 'writing my poems for the few that look to me, took to me, shook to me, feeling me' ...... The Alhaj library had become a second home to Nero. The tomes, ancient and filled with long forgotten knowledge, had enticed him ever since the library was discovered. Everyday since arriving in the city, Nero had visited the library with his various notebooks, collecting and recording the traditions and practices of old.
Poppea lay stretched out across Nero's back, basking in the pale beams that broke through the dilapidated structure. The sand cat's chest rose and fell in relaxation amongst the sound of soft voices, the gentle turn of pages and the sound of her master writing. The Prophet's mind was likewise elsewhere, being utterly engrossed in the pages before him. As he made notes, his eye caught a flicker of movement in his peripheral.
Nero knew who had approached, and allowed himself to look up from his reading to give Eniah a gentle smile. The child's quiet words held Nero's full attention as he asked for information regarding Alya.
"I would be delighted to tell you more, Eniah." Nero replied in a hushed whisper, sliding a bookmark onto the page he had been reading so that he could give Eniah his full attention. He was always delighted to answer questions regarding Alya and he lowered his head to speak more softly to Eniah. "Yes, I have met The Sky Mother before. Several times even." His eyes softened a little at the thought, a few stars in his mane sparkling to life, "Is there something specific you would like to know, Eniah? I am happy to tell you of the encounters I have had with Alya, but if there is something you would like to understand, I would be more than happy to help you."
|
|
|
Post by Zookcan on Oct 16, 2019 14:56:38 GMT -6
| ENIAH your scars will be remade in gold.
________________________________________________
"Hmm..." Eniah pauses for a moment, flicking his torn ear back and scanning the pages with crystal blue eyes. As he does, he recalls the legends of Alya back in Eithne, and how the Aodhians, and by extension he, had regarded her. A monster, a wicked being, a goddess whose winds had snuffed out the brightest flames. They staked the blame of the kirins' unjust annihilation on her head, and all those who worshiped her were meant to be shunned.
Eniah would surely be scolded if he were back in Valore right now, if anyone found out about the blooming curiosity in his head. "Where I come from, Alya isn't regarded with any sort of reverence or respect." He vaguely admits. "But I've begun to really wonder if ill views are really warranted there. Everything is so different here." 'And I don't know if it's either bias or truth,' he adds on in thought.
Serora was far more open and accepting to the curious, but now and again, old ways continue to creep into the former slave's thoughts. Paranoia and fear is like a thorn in his side, keeping him from admitting his honest search for clarity in his and Serora's roots. "I..." Eniah pauses for another moment, searching for the right words to speak without accidentally revealing his own discoveries. Luckily, Nero had already given him something to work with.
"Yes, what is she really like? Is she as fierce as they say -- did she really create the moons?" | |
Post No. 2 Word Count: 250 Tagging: seechem
|
|
|
Post by seechem on Oct 19, 2019 6:51:27 GMT -6
N E R O the Prophet of Serora 'writing my poems for the few that look to me, took to me, shook to me, feeling me' ...... Nero could tell by Eniah's nervous twitching and fidgeting that these questions were difficult for him to ask, but also a long time coming. His admittance of previously regarding Alya without 'respect' made Nero's eyes soften. It took great courage to seek knowledge that conflicted with everything one had been raised to believe.
"I am glad you have decided to try and learn things for yourself." Nero said softly, the stars in his mane twinkling to life with genuine affection. The teen was so nervous, and Nero regarded Eniah as a capable student, admiring his willingness to learn.
Nero tried to maintain a calm composure, not wanting to pressure Eniah into disclosing things too quickly, and so he turned a kind ear to the teens hesitation and eventual question. He nodded solemnly, casting an eye around to make sure they would not be disturbing other readers, before picking up his notebook.
"Let us find somewhere to speak where we will not disturb our fellow library patrons." Nero collected the book he had been reading and stacked the one Eniah had brought over on top. "There's a nook this way." Nero walked quietly beside Eniah to a part of the library that he had claimed as a refuge for his research. A little alcove among the shelves with some pillows and a table. It had taken a while to convince Salome, but eventually he had been allowed to set up a temporary study area for himself.
"Now," Nero said, placing the books on the table while Poppea curled up beside him on a pillow, "you want to know if Alya is fierce, and the creator of the moons?" He quirked an eyebrow, but let his own questions slide.
"Alya is called the Sky Mother not only because she is like a mother to us, and loves us, but because she knows when tough, maternal, love is necessary." The roan looked thoughtful for a moment, "She is fierce when she needs to be. Righteous, and just. Her anger is violent like a hurricane, but her love is true and unceasing."
Nero cocked his head to regard Eniah. "As for the moons, yes. She did create them. The first moon, The Pale was created in collaboration with all the gods, and The Red was made by Alya alone."
Nero waited to see whether Eniah had further questions, and if so, which avenue of information he would choose to pursue. The prophet's star filled mane shimmered warmly, and Nero hoped Eniah knew that he regarded his student with understanding and respect.
|
|
|
Post by Zookcan on Nov 1, 2019 22:41:56 GMT -6
| ENIAH your scars will be remade in gold.
________________________________________________
He must be an old soul in a child's body, for Nero's enthusiasm alone made him feel tired. His ears hang lopsidedly, mellow, from the sides of his head. He sighs, and yet an exhausted smile finds its way across his snout. Not bored, simply tired. It's easy for him to grow tired, but oh so rare to see him bored.
"Many more things than just that, I'm afraid." The colt admits morosely, just as a soft, barely coherent rumble sounds from the skull tucked away in his saddlebag. Eniah reaches for his staff and gently butts its bottom end against the paved stone floor, then swivels it around to rest in its holster before following.
Even in its old age, the archaic library was fashioned with exquisite rugs and furnishings that he hadn't quite seen in Seroran architecture before. Nooks and alcoves were decorated with elaborate tapestries and finely woven pillows, embroided with exotic patterns and images of pegasi and golden wheat fields. The smell of old wood invites him and he throws himself right down into a pile of cushions, groaning in content.
The colt did not make eye contact or even seemed to look at his mentor, but he wasn't disinterested. Quite the opposite, from the way his ear was turned towards Nero and how pensive his face looked. Though he didn't reveal what he was thinking, it was clear that whatever it was bear weight on his mind, even with the tiredness of his blue eyes.
... At last, he sits up, shifting so that his forelegs tuck underneath his body. His legs sling out across the slope of pillows. "I guess what else I want to find out is ... how much is truth and how much is lies ... Nero, am I correct to assume you know plenty about the Gods' War?"
| |
Post No. 3 Word Count: 305 Tagging: seechem
|
|
|
Post by seechem on Dec 17, 2019 7:19:41 GMT -6
N E R O the Prophet of Serora 'writing my poems for the few that look to me, took to me, shook to me, feeling me' ...... There was a look to Eniah, a look of weariness. The colt admitted there were more questions, and Nero let the sparks in his mane die out, and his ears pricked forward attentively. Something was evidently weighing on the child's mind, and Nero let him ask his question.
Truth and lies. Two sides of a formidable coin. A moral quandary for the ages, Nero had to silently admit. The Gods War? The stallion's ears twitched forward. Everything about Eniah's posture was suggesting he didn't want to look like he was taking this too seriously, he wasn't giving eye contact, his ears the only indication that he was even listening. Even the fidgeting was a clear sign of his discomfort.
"The balance between truth and lie has never been black and white, Eniah." Nero sighed.He stretched his neck a little, placing his notebook onto the table beside him. For a moment he closed his eyes, trying to wrangle the question in his head into a satisfying answer, but knew ultimately he would come up short. "When people looked to the gods, many saw what they wanted to see. Saviours, All-Powerful Beings who could right all of our wrongs. Givers of Blessings, guidance and hope. Some saw destruction in the gods, while others saw protection. I suppose," Nero mused, his voice having fallen to a quiet hum, "it depends on whom you ask. The gods are not so different to you and I. They have feelings, relationships and complex characters. They cannot be seen as any one thing." He tilted his head a touch, not being quite happy with the explanation, but relenting that it was the most straightforward one he could offer.
"In terms of the Gods War-" Nero paused to look up at the ceiling. Cracked, crumbling, but still maintaining some of the decorations. A mural of dark navy decorated with stars and constellations where the ceiling met the walls, then fading to copper and pink at the heart of the library. A sky full of possibilities much like the books that surrounded them. "I know some things, though not all." He gave a faint smile to Eniah, "I have been working hard to bring my understanding up to the level of the scholars here," he looked out from their table to the horses at distant booths, moving between bookshelves, adorned in heavy robes and reading glasses. True scholars. "But I can try to answer any questions you have." He tapped his notebook with one of the feathers from his mane. "Is there anything more specific you are interested in?" He knew that prying was making it more difficult for Eniah to ask his question, but Nero wasn't sure whether the colt really wanted to hear an entire run down on the conflict that had occurred. "You may ask whatever you like," Nero reassured gently, "it is important to ask questions about things that trouble you. And I am more than happy to help."
|
|
|
Post by Zookcan on Feb 23, 2020 19:50:15 GMT -6
| ENIAH your scars will be remade in gold.
________________________________________________
"Okay, so, I have a question..." The hesitation was still present in Eniah's voice. He speaks in a hushed tone, and turns his head or twice while peering out from the nook to ensure no one else was nearby. His ears flattened against his skull, looking almost as though he was about to speak taboo among his herd. Which, to be fair, he probably was. "... Do you know why exactly why they did it? Why Ignacio and the kirins ... did the supposed crimes in the war?"
There's a silence. Eniah swallows hard and continues. "The stories I know, the ones I grew up on ... in them, Alya is painted as the bad guy. She committed atrocities against Ignacio and his children, marking him the victim ... but as an old friend once told me, a story always has two sides, I guess. I didn't really think that would ever come to be important, but here I am." He pauses and tilts his head towards the rafters in thought.
"Back where I grew up, there are no accounts stating the opposite. Yet when I found myself here, all I have found in this library are texts stating something very different; that Ignacio is the criminal. So I want to find the truth. I don't know if it's bias ... I don't know what's real anymore. I'd like to know ... so maybe I could make sense of things and move on ... " Once finished, Eniah traces the outline of one of the pillows with a hoof rather aimlessly. "I was hoping maybe you'd have some input on that. In the encounters you've had with Alya, is there anything you can draw from them?" | |
Post No. 4 Word Count: 278 Tagging: seechem
|
|