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Post by Elphora on Sept 29, 2017 19:24:09 GMT -6
Cardinal it will try to change; it will clamor for clarity word count: 696 | reference | SQUAD ASSEMBLE
In the first days after meeting with her, Cardinal returned to the desert-bound shrine regularly; Every other day, if the dusk or dawn allowed passage through the sweltering canyons, and if the pile of scrolls on his desk were manageable. He told himself it was out of concern, the sort of concern that is appropriate for a Councillor to foster in his heart for the herd he had devoted himself to. He had watched Nafisa walk out into the desert until her golden body had become invisible among the glittering slow-rolling dunes, unable to convince her to refrain from the most dangerous pilgrimage known to Sedo. So now, he watched for her return. This felt very, very important, as though it was in some way linked to the oncoming season, the ongoing drought, the looming threat of war. Days became weeks. His legs grew stronger from making the journey; he took to having Tari braid his long hair and help him bind it up, though the ends seemed ever-stained now with vibrant red dirt. The people he passed in this voyage thought their Councillor extremely devoted to their great sky goddess, she who brought the soothing wind or caustic sandstorm. What they did not see was that Nafisa was always very close to his thoughts, and that when he prayed before the old shrine, he did so like this: Please, great desert mother, please let her return to us; Please don't leave her bones out there where only the sand and sky can find them.There were some few places of solace upon which Cardinal could rely in these dark and troubled days. One of them, as migratory and hard to catch as the white-winged flocks of birds that sometimes migrated down from the north, had for a long time been to him a fresh cold drink in the parched dryness of daily life. Something had come between them of late, though; A fundamental misunderstanding perhaps. Nicodemus was difficult to wrangle at the best of times, coming and going as he pleased, as unpredictable and welcome as sudden heavy waterbound clouds. Now he had become as irresolutely stubborn as the sun itself, and beneath the ire of his honest judgement, Cardinal sweltered. They had chosen to stand on different sides of a deep canyon. Since his confessional, the Councillor had been overcome with growing dismay at his choice - but more than this, and more than most anything else in his life, he deeply and truly missed Nicodemus with all of his heart. When word came that the little mullah had blustered back into Osulas, Cardinal knew where to find him. It was easy enough - the children gathered to Nico like they would to a great prophet. He had a way with young minds, speaking colorfully and without the condescension that rang in other adult voices. As Cardinal walked heavyhearted down one of the white-clay streets, small bodies brushed past him excitedly, stopping only to briefly and apologetically offer respectful greetings. The youngest of the bunch couldn't even manage this, so desperate were they not to miss out on a single word of the travelling Mullah's fantastical stories. At the back of the crowd, Cardinal held his breath and listened; A smile grew dreamily about his face as he watched the enigmatic mule perform for the kids, and a warmth he hadn't felt since speaking with Fi stole over his chest and comforted him. When at last the story seemed to come to an end - as much as any of Nicodemus' stories ever could - the Councillor interjected, his larger body pushing through the tide of glowing young faces. "Nico?" His quiet voice, given weight only by calm authority, rose over the excited chatter of the slowly dispersing gathering. "Can I have a moment? I was wondering... If you, if you might like to take a walk with me." It was difficult to keep the desperate sincerity from his voice, and to speak strongly over the old ache in his throat - It was harder still to meet those eyes, one bright and lovely like a fresh-bloomed succulent, the other as hard and brutally golden as the desert itself. |
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Post by Deleted on Oct 9, 2017 9:03:24 GMT -6
nicodemus i will call you by name, i will share your road Since the ill-fated meeting in Osulas, Nicodemus had been slow to return. He told himself it wasn't pride that drove him out of the city, that receiving the nearly unheard-of insult of ejection from a diplomatic summit wasn't what was leaving this bitter taste in his mouth. Fi had found him on his knees in the road. He didn't remember exactly what he said to explain himself, just the unkind way in which he'd said it. From what other mullahs told him, it had driven them both into the desert. No one was looking at him the same.
Except for the children, of course. A familiar striped filly shrieked his name as he pulled his sandy hood down around his withers. She ambled towards him, her tassel of a tail high and bobbing, and he smiled instantly as she faceplanted affectionately into the chest strap of his saddlebags. The others followed closely, pressing in, moving him like a school of fish toward town square. The sound of tiny feet stampeding the packed street and of little muzzles snorting the dust of distant roads off his pack drove worry from his mind. He found himself greeting small faces, nipping sparse forelocks as he walked carefully, mindful of scurrying tykes. "You'll never guess what I found in the canyon last night," he began, drawing a shrill chorus of cries from his audience.
He told a story from a few months back, of the herd of wild goats who had run through a nomad's clothesline. Nico had discovered them laden with cloths, their horns adorned with scarves and blankets, their backs tangled with tents. He told of a circus of color dotting the sheer surface of the canyon wall, embellished for young ears. He'd told the story before to a different crowd, but all that meant was he'd had a little practice. With every new detail, the little listeners' eyes were bright and believing. Trying not to feel guilty, he finished the tale by pulling a scrap of sheer red cloth from his pack. Giving the scarf a flourish, he tied it around the budding horn of a unicorn colt.
A quiet, familiar voice found him over the delighted giggling. The children gathered around the scarf as if it were a crown, and Nicodemus looked past them to see Cardinal. A few expressions passed over his face --recognition, surprise, guilt, and ultimately a bashful smile of relief-- and he waded slowly through the dissolving crowd to Cardinal's side.
He couldn't help but notice that no one else was greeting him. He swept his stare past Cardinal for just a moment, and caught the eye of a familiar potter in the doorway of their workshop. Before he could smile, they turned away. "Of course," Nico said, sounding suddenly parched compared to the brassy cadence of his storytelling. He wondered what Cardinal had thought of him, that day. He wondered what Nafisa had told him. He wondered when they were going to stop being so nervous to speak to one another.
Nico walked with Cardinal, his face turned away with uncharacteristic shyness. He was suddenly aware of the stinging from his scraped knees. "Cardinal, listen," he sounded ready to defend himself. "I know I said a lot of things you don't agree with." That stubborn streak was returning, not aggressive, but resolute. He met Cardinal's eyes carefully. "But I won't take them back." 570 words | post 1 |
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Post by Elphora on Oct 16, 2017 3:39:24 GMT -6
Cardinal it will try to change; it will clamor for clarity word count: 763 | reference | ---
He tried to read the expressions as they came across Nico's face. It wasn't that the young mule was adept at concealing them that made it difficult; Rather that they moved with such animated speed, a splash of running colors impossible to pick apart. Hesitant, a tall outsider in this bustling crowd of energetic youth, Cardinal waited for the final resolution; He released a heavy breath he hadn't known he was holding as a smile curved about the Mullah's lips. This was relief, then; As cool as an unexpected sunshower. Being forgiven did not come so easily to some. Though he knew in his heart that Nico was a good person, a kind soul, the anxious threat of permanent damage to their relationship had seemed an ill but entirely possible thing. Cardinal inhaled hastily and thought that the air seemed much sweeter than before. Of course, being seen with an activist - was that what Nicodemus and Nafisa were? So loudly had they spoken their dissent, it had seemed like a challenge and an insult to some of the normal folk who went about their lives under the assumption that their democratic system worked for them, and therefore was perfect - had its own troubles. Nico was not the only one who saw the potter duck their head away. His own political sway could only grant so much leniency in the hearts of the citizens of Sedo. Cardinal knew that they saw him as one of many tools wielded by an honest and just leader. What was this one doing, conferring with a public dissenter, encouraging a divided Osulas? He couldn't think overmuch on that, not just now, and certainly not with such important business weighing down his mind. The pair walked a little ways in silence, which was truly abnormal for one of them. Just as steadfast Cardinal felt he had gathered his thoughts into the perfect order, Nico's mouth opened and a tumble of words spilled out; Not hastily, but defiantly, firm and resolute. Cardinal's rounded ears perked up, and he looked at Nico pensively for what felt like a long moment, red eyes thoughtful under the shadow cast by his brow. "I know," He said at last, the quiet voice even softer here where the streets of Osulas thrummed with activity, "And I would never ask you to, Nico. How you think, how you feel - those things belong to you, and as a civilian here, they are your right." He thought about how all the eyes had turned to watch as Nico was cast out from that meeting room - How it had seemed like an unjust symbol, almost, and one he had blindly ignored until this very moment. It was not just about the war, and the Talorians; It was about all of them, and what they would or would not allow in the name of personal freedom. They'd reached the edge of the cliffside prominence, where the road became softer underfoot and the taller structures of the carved city stood tall at their backs. Before them stretched the desert, gentler here but no less splendid, broken by an old trail that led out into the dunes. Cardinal paused a moment under a final arch, enjoying the last caress of shade. "I met with Nafisa, the morning she left for her pilgrimage." This time he kept his eyes carefully on the path and his tone placidly conversational, not wanting to show Nico too much, too soon. "She felt much the same as you - We talked, but," He couldn't help the genuine grimace as it twisted his dark lips into a strange, raw dismay, "I couldn't convince her to stay. She needed answers - answers I couldn't give."It felt to Cardinal as though he'd been failing at a lot of things, lately. The tally grew and grew; His anxiety grew and grew. Stepping out into the sun again, the councillor shifted the weight of his small city-styled saddle bags, but was unable to settle the weight of his guilt. "Come visit her shrine with me, Nico. I want you to tell me everything you know about the Talorians, everything you fear about this pact along the way; I want to hear it from you directly, why it is that two honest Mullahs can be so thoroughly convinced." Persuade me, he thought, with a strange little thrill that felt like dread. It would be better to know than not at all, he promised himself - And maybe, if the goddess was with them, some sign of Fi's survival would welcome them on the other end. |
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