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Post by kajeayn on Nov 20, 2020 13:57:31 GMT -6
Line in the Sand
Late Spring 1702; Morning; The Glass Tower. |
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Post by kajeayn on Nov 20, 2020 13:59:25 GMT -6
Life had a funny way of repeating itself. Time flowed in a circle, sometimes. The same motions, the same themes, repeating like a story she’d told a million times but still dreaded the ending. She found herself marching on, knowing what lay at the end, yet still found herself surprised every time. Abandoned in the sands, again. Betrayed by who she loved most, again. Back at this Tower, again. She gazed up at it in silence, the wind a mournful howl in her ears, scarf tightly wrapped around her neck. One small length of it dangled, unwilling to stay hidden, stars glittering in its folds as it merrily danced in the wind. Impatiently, she tucked it back in. Her relic, her Umbra, stayed at home. Neither of them had been happy about it, but she hadn’t budged. The trip alone had cleared her head, a little, sharpening her thoughts into focus, bringing everything into crystal clarity. She’d thought she would feel doubt, apprehension, that she might want to turn and run when facing the Tower again, but she gazed calmly back at her own solemn reflection, looking at her from the glass walls. She looked very small and alone, only the sand stretching out behind her, the empty sky threatening to swallow her from above. Her multitude of glittering chains missing for once, letting her move quietly. No galaxies swirled at her feet, no stars burned in her chest. Just quiet. The stillness that had settled over her was as foreign as it was comforting. The silence after a howling storm. Her soul no longer being buffeted, but left stinging, raw. But she would take the peace over the screaming whirlwind. She would take what she could get. She breathed out quietly, turning away from the Tower, able to feel its presence against her back as she gazed out at the sky, looking for a familiar golden gleam against the blue. She could only hope her letter had been well received. If Shepherd didn’t come, it would be a blow, but it wouldn’t surprise her. Not much did, these days.
post: 1 WC: 350 |
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Post by hydrus101 on Nov 23, 2020 15:18:04 GMT -6
 S H E P H E R D• Vagabond | Harbinger •
”The phoenix must burn before it can be born again.”
The letter’s arrival had surprised him.
At his quarters in Alhaj, Shepherd received all kinds of correspondence from all kinds of people, but rare was a message of this sort.
He had scanned the words with his sharp golden eyes once, then twice, before he stood, collected his things, and left without a word.
The Tower of Glass rose up against the morning horizon like a beacon, a marker of what was to come.
Shepherd had made this trip thrice before; this journey would be the fourth. This time, two blessings moved beneath his skin, both of which bore the Ungod’s mark.
A feeling of static energy clung to every part of him as he neared. Some of that energy sparked excitement, some bred anxiety.
He had had time enough to think about what could be waiting for him there. The letter’s author, of course, but what else?
Shepherd truly considered her a friend, though he knew not what she considered him. An ally, an enemy, a ghost? She hadn’t quite seemed reassured by him when last they met. If she sought to confront him, to reveal all his truths to light...
He sighed.
If needed, he would kill her to keep his secret safe. But if she truly sought guidance, he would readily extend his hand to her. To another child of Digend.
His thoughts and actions clearer now, he saw her.
There.
A splash of dusky red.
With a sense of finality, Shepherd tucked in his wings and dropped out of the sky like a stone.
He caught himself just above the ground and unfurled his feathers to land soundlessly in the sand, a puff of dust rising from his hooves
A golden gaze met emerald eyes and Shepherd bowed his head.
“I was wondering when I would hear from you again, Esin.”
WC: 309
Post: 1
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Post by kajeayn on Nov 23, 2020 19:22:58 GMT -6
A bright golden flash, and a whistle of wind in feathers, and Shepherd dropped to the sand in front of her, sending up a plume of dust. The hot wind ruffled Esin’s tail and scarf, tugging it from its tight wind around her neck and she gripped it in her teke.
“Shepherd.” She smiled tiredly at him, shoulders drooping in relief. He came. “I hope you’re doing well.”Her eyes flickered over his face, hesitating. Something felt different, but she couldn’t put her hoof on what. Off, somehow. Had she irritated him by asking him to come? Something like foreboding rustled under her skin. She was not close with Shepherd, not really, but she respected his opinion and admired him as an older, more experienced mullah. And he had been kind last they had met, hinting at untold knowledge that she couldn’t fathom. Knowledge about the Ungod. She swallowed past the unease in her throat, turning slightly to look up at the Tower once more. “It has been a… trying time, for me.” Her smile turned a little brittle. “I apologize for not keeping in touch. Alya’s winds have taken me… unexpected places.” She barely suppressed a wince using Alya’s name, her smile fading completely as she stared at their reflections. “Thank you for coming.” She said quietly. “After our last talk, I thought you would be the best one to ask for help in this matter.” The wind howled, tugging at her hair and scarf, like it could pull her away from where she stood firm, gazing at the Tower. “Did you hear that Alya came to this Tower recently?” She asked suddenly.
post: 2 WC: 274 |
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Post by hydrus101 on Nov 24, 2020 23:35:52 GMT -6
S H E P H E R D• Vagabond | Harbinger •
”The phoenix must burn before it can be born again.”
Shepherd did not miss the twitch in the corners of Esin’s mouth as she spoke. Nervousness, perhaps? Fear?
Placid and still, they watched as the tentative smile dropped from her features as the name of the sky goddess left her lips.
The pieces connected in Shepherd’s mind with a snap.
Had...had she lost faith?
Concern seeped into the lines of their face. It wasn’t uncommon for a mullah to seek reassurance from another of their kin, Shepherd themself had sought counsel once or twice, but something had shaken this one to her core.
Their harsh eyes softened.
“You have nothing to apologize for, Esin,” they murmured, extending their wing to brush the tips of their shimmering feathers against her shoulder. “I would never abandon one of my own during their hour of need.”
They stepped forward, closer now, but slow enough as not to scare.
“But aye, I had heard, but I had assumed it to be a rumor. Perhaps I judged it far too quickly.”
The lie slipped through their teeth easily, like an eel. They had heard enough about the incident to discern it was no mere rumor, but the encounter’s retelling had come to them secondhand—perhaps even third or fourth hand—from an informant. The event’s details eluded them, but the big picture was clear: Alya saw the Tower as a threat.
But what did Esin know of it?
Poignantly, Shepherd paused and scanned up the reflective surface, longing somewhere deep in their heart to see a third face looking back.
“Word travels so fast nowadays. Too fast for me, anyways,” they chuckled. “It’s hard to know what’s real and what’s the conjuration of a horse on too much peyote anymore.”
Shepherd glanced at Esin out of the corner of their eye, a sort of hunger hidden in the depths of their irises.
“But you seem to be of the erudite sort. Care to enlighten me?”
WC: 329
Post: 2
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Post by kajeayn on Nov 26, 2020 13:45:21 GMT -6
Something in her tense posture relaxed a fraction at the brush of Shepherd’s wings, even as a cloud seemed to pass over her expression, remembering the last wings that touched her. Alya’s wings. She tried to smile at Shepherd’s jest, but it was a small, weak thing that passed as quickly as it came. “I should explain first, that I met with Alya recently. She bestowed upon me her cosmic manipulation a little before our meeting, and one night she showed me how to use it. It… was the best night of my life.” She smiled sadly. “She told me she loved me, that she always would, that I was deserving. That I’d find my way in leading others.” Despite her soft words, her tone was nearly flat, sorrowful as she stared out somewhere past Shepherd, her eyes unfocused. Words that would have filled her with pride and joy only a short time ago now seemed to inspire only pain. “I’ve never felt so at peace. It was everything I needed to hear.” She fell silent a moment, ears tilted back as she gazed blankly out at the sands. Then she shook herself, smiling apologetically towards the other mullah, turning to regard him once again.
“I tell you this because it is the last I saw of Alya, until the Tower.” She explained. “So perhaps you may understand my state of mind when I saw her again.” She drooped somewhat, ears flopping down as she closed her eyes, hanging her head with a gusty exhale, shoulders slumping down further. For a few moments she simply stood that way, dropping her guard, her mask, letting her exhaustion and sorrow show, too tired to even hold her head up, let alone a smile. Her third eye remained open, fixed unseeingly on Shepherd. “I was here, investigating the Tower with some others.” She explained, her tail swishing. Her eyes still closed, she let nebulous clouds swirl at her feet, spiraling into existence as they rose up before her and Shepherd, a canvas for her to paint on. “The Tower had been… calling us. Calling others. It haunted my dreams.” She hesitated, eyes opening as she lifted her head, gaze apprehensive as she glanced to Shepherd. “It still does,” She admitted, barely above a whisper. A confession, just for Shepherd’s ears. “I still see it, sometimes. Not as strongly. But it’s there. Still calling.” Shame washed briefly over her expression, turning her face away. Her frown deepened as she looked to the clouds before them, stars burning to life as she began to sketch a picture, images rising to life like glowing constellations.
“I led a small group to the Tower, with the intention of finding out what it wanted, of perhaps ending the call.” She explained. “We saw a vision, on the way.” She hesitated, trying to show what they saw, but the images in her galaxy could not quite convey it fully. She tried anyway, tried to illustrate as she spoke. “The zesla who guard it showed it to us, but I do not believe it was a mere illusion. We saw Sedo but different, the ground lush and green, the land filled with pegasi. All pegasi. And then the land changed, dry and sandy, and there were more horses, not just pegasi remained, looking to the sky for an answer.” She drew them, little starry figures looking up to an empty sky. She wished she could illustrate their lost expressions. “And then… the sky fell.” The galaxy crumpled around them, falling down like water, clouds rolling over the ground as the image dissolved. Stars like eyes peered at them, burning in their violet and blue depths before she swirled the nebula back where she had it hung like a tapestry before them. “That was the end. We made it to the Tower unchallenged until…. Until Alya showed up.” The stars appeared again, bright as Esin drew the goddess as she remembered her. Eyes burning with rage, four wings flared out in challenge, rising high above her and Shepherd in the galaxy. “She was angry.” Esin said quietly. “Angry that we had come here. I’ve never seen- felt- anything like it. She...” Her voice came out nearby inaudible. “She called me by name. Said I had betrayed her, that I was worthy of her blessings- once.” She swallowed hard. “But then she calmed herself. She apologized, sought our forgiveness.” Esin’s eyes closed. “I… did not give it.” Shame and pain warred over her features once again. She still did not give it. It was like a wound that wouldn't close, a thorn festering in her heart, something she could feel at any moment, pricking painfully at her. The Alya in her galaxies landed on the ground, wings folded, and then she faded. “I asked her what she was afraid of. She said she feared for us, but she did not say why the Tower was dangerous. Only that its god did not play by their rules.” The galaxies before them began to swirl again, less controlled artistry, more the churn of a stormcloud. Stars burst to life and shattered, small comets beginning to burn in their depths, coming to swirl around Esin’s feet like fireflies. “Do you see?” She whispered, still staring at where Alya’s figure had been. “I don’t understand. I don’t - what is it about this Tower that could have made Alya cruel? Why is it dangerous? Why did- why did she hurt me?” Her voice broke, suddenly sounding young and scared, her eyes wide as she looked at Shepherd, moisture beading at her lashes. The galaxies dropped at last, dissolving in the sunlight, stars winking out of existence as a dry sob cracked from Esin’s chest.
post: 3 WC: 957 |
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Post by hydrus101 on Nov 28, 2020 15:09:45 GMT -6
S H E P H E R D• Vagabond | Harbinger •
”The phoenix must burn before it can be born again.”
Quietly, Shepherd listened to Esin as she spoke, watching on as she diligently spun her tale. He immersed himself in her story, interest apparent on his face while hers remained stained by despair.
When she gave in to her exhaustion and that stoic veil lifted, Shep wasn’t entirely unsurprised by what he saw.
He had always known her to be a strong figure, bold and young and undeterred, as fierce as the howling sands, but even the hardest rock can be worn away by time and stress.
The mullah standing before him was tearing at the seams.
Shepherd’s heart stung.
He loved the old gods still, truly he did, but why did they have to take their fears out on the ones who adored them most? Perhaps that was the danger of growing too close to divinity. Mortals were not meant to be one with their gods.
But even still, Esin did not deserve this. Not from Alya, not from anyone.
Despite the overwhelming feeling of injustice, he kept the passion building in his chest smothered.
As stars and comets manifested in the sky above them, Shepherd momentarily allowed himself to be swept away in awe and let the smallest remnant of a gasp slip between his teeth. It was beautiful, how could he describe it as anything but?
His own blessings were less fanciful than this, less striking, but one day he hoped to to share the beauty of his gifts with her as well. When Esin admitted her dreams of the Tower still lingered, his hopes strengthened.
She still dreamt of the Tower. It still called to her.
There was no clearer message Shepherd could’ve been given. Digend‘s path was open to her, and if she so wished, he would guide her down it.
Colors played across their faces as Esin twisted the stars, forming constellations and the celestial lines in between.
The figures in her sketch burned with the intensity of the stars themselves and once again, Shepherd was lost to the grandeur. As the heavenly canvas collapsed over them, he lifted his wings into it, allowing the starstuff to wash over him in his entirety.
Esin continued her work and when Alya’s visage was rendered, Shepherd could feel her anger. Like a tangible thing, it clouded the air, but Shepherd felt nothing but solemnity. He had already made his peace with her. His connection to the Sky had remained untested, but for a moment he feared what would come of a confrontation with the Sea or the Flame. Their gifts twisted in his gut.
He paid close attention to the next few words that spilled from his companion’s mouth. It pained him to hear Alya had alienated her to the point of shame. To wound a disciple so deeply...it never should’ve come to pass.
Shepherd listened patiently as she spoke of Alya’s actions, body still and unmoving, though his thoughts churned.
In time, the stars faded, Esin’s tears fell, and Shepherd didn’t quite know what to say.
But he knew what to do.
There was no hesitation in his step as as he moved closer to the weeping mullah, embracing her fully as a parent would a child.
“Many fear what they don’t understand, Essie,” he said, a softness to his voice that hadn’t been there earlier. “Alya isn’t exempt.”
“A mother tries to protect her children from things she thinks might hurt them. Sometimes, she fails. Sometimes she takes things too far.”
Shepherd took a step back, just far enough to peer into her eyes. The creases in his face showed stalwart vindication.
“Alya took things too far this time, Esin. What she said and did to you was not your fault. It will never be your fault.”
He lifted a wing to her cheek, wiping away a stray tear with his teke.
“You do not have to forgive her. But-” he paused, the weight of his next few words hanging in his throat, “you can show her there is nothing to be afraid of.”
WC: 684
Post: 3
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Post by kajeayn on Nov 29, 2020 13:55:33 GMT -6
She stiffened only for a moment, crumpling against Shepherd in the next breath, burying her face in his neck. Her eyes squeezed shut, choking back tears, torn between wanting to remain strong in front of Shepherd, someone she desperately wanted to see her as an equal, and the rest of her that cried out in relief at just being held. It reminded her of being held by Alya, and though her eyes burned at the memory, for a moment she simply felt safe, reassured and hidden away from the world by Shepherd’s wings. She blinked open her eyes, trying not to flush in embarrassment as Shepherd regarded her, offered her words of encouragement she desperately needed. Here she was sniveling like a child in front of someone else of her rank, but she couldn’t find it in her to remain mortified for long. She was just too tired. “Thank you.” She breathed, her own teke swiping at her face as she tried for a brief, watery smile. “I… I think she’s very afraid,” She whispered, and the admission was even harder to make than she’d realized- she didn’t dare voice the idea in front of anyone but another mullah. The words caught in her throat, reminding her of herself at the Tower, staring up at Alya.
What are you afraid of?
I fear for you. I have seen the way this being corrupts those which are mine.
Esin was hers. She always had been. And she’d been accused of that corruption, that betrayal, for daring to ask questions. For trying to help her fellows. For leading them, as she had been told to. She breathed out, feeling anger spark in her chest like a small star, felt it curling and flickering in her chest like a flame. Alya had told her to not give in to her folly. The folly of her anger. Was even a goddess incapable of following her own lessons? All these whirling thoughts left a foul taste in her mouth. She looked up at Shepherd, her eyes wide, but unafraid, flickering over his face. “How could I show her?” She asked. “I hoped- I hoped perhaps that learning more about this place could help.” She raised her head, gazing up at the Tower. “It is wrong, but… I have not been shown or told why that is. Only that it is.” She had never been one to blindly accept what was told to her. She had always been one to seek her own answers, to ask why. It was why Ignacio vexed her so. Everywhere she looked, she saw evidence damning him, but then she faced Serorans who looked past all the facts and insisted he was more than that. How could he be? Digend was of a similar situation- but there was no evidence damning her. Not that Esin had been shown. Only words telling her to stay away, to distrust the Ungod. Once, that had been enough. The word of her goddess was enough. But after their last meeting, she wasn’t sure anymore. She had never doubted her goddess. But now, she wasn’t certain that Alya was right. The idea was terrifying, shaking her to her core, but it persisted no matter how much she tried to dismiss the idea.
post: 4 WC: 546 |
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Post by hydrus101 on Dec 5, 2020 16:34:43 GMT -6
S H E P H E R D• Vagabond | Harbinger •
”The phoenix must burn before it can be born again.”
“Blind faith has never helped a soul.”
Shepherd’s voice had turned callous for just a moment. A splitting fracture on the word ‘faith.’
“If I believed everything I had ever been told, I likely wouldn’t be standing here with you now.”
He went quiet, regretting the sharpness in his words. But there was no use trying to take them back. It was true after all. The word was dangerous, and belief without evidence was a death sentence. Shepherd rolled new sentences and thoughts around in his mouth for a minute, getting a taste for them.
“It’s always been hard for me to accept things the way they are. I’m curious, I always need to know more.”
He looked to her with fraction of a smile. “I’m sure you can relate.”
”Because of that, it’s been hard for me to accept information from a single source. I always want to know more than what a single viewpoint can provide. Two eyes are better than one and all that. That’s why I gather stories, like my father did before he passed.”
Shepherd could picture the old journal so clearly in his mind. Leather-bound, softened from years of handling, stuffed to overflowing with pages and pages of godlike encounters. Stories of old, folktales, even drawings tucked together in a compilation of divinity, and a section in the middle much smaller and less complete than the rest. Sketches of moths dotted those pages.
“I write down the the personal tellings, the first hand experiences, the varied tales, and the testaments of our herdmates. I carry them with me and I keep them safe in an effort to see the broad scope of experience, to include as many facets of the gods as I can grab ahold of.”
He looked to the sky, hoping to see the stars through the morning sun as a sort of wistfulness overtook him.
“Some of these horses I speak with are bitter and their views of divinity are soured. Others can only heap praises onto their names. There is truth in every story simply because it is the tellers truth.”
Shepherd turned his gaze back to Esin.
“What Alya speaks of this new god, that is her truth. Yours may be different.”
His voice seeped with conviction.
“You are your own being. You are not just an extension of Alya. You are allowed to draw your own conclusions. You can experience the world for yourself.”
A slight tilt of his head and shift of posture sent prismatic colors from the tower falling across his coat.
“There’s a chance investigating this tower and it’s god might either prove or disprove Alya’s truth.
“If it is consistent with what she tells you, if it is truly harmful and seeks to destroy all we hold dear, you can always reconcile with her. Admit that curiosity did kill the cat and return to her to lick your wounds. Or,” Shepherd continued, eyes sharp, “if you delve deeper and discover all is not what it seems and that this new deity proffers peace and safety, then you might be the one tasked with changing the mind of a god.”
Shepherd let his weighty words hang in the air for a moment before he let out a sigh, deep and low. The shroud of secrecy he had to hide behind dropped. He only hoped it had been enough.
“You don’t have to listen to me or take my advice, but if I can give you just one piece of guidance to follow, it would be to continue your search. Ask questions. Seek new perspectives. If you want to pursue this god, find her and shake her of her secrets. And then, if so you choose, reveal those secrets to Alya. Change her mind. Show her there’s nothing to be afraid of. She will listen to you.“
WC: 655
Post: 4
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