Tell Me a Story [Open]

[Ishara Dossari]

"Close your eyes Ishara, and simply feel..." It began as something warm and tingling, and as her anxiety threatened to spike a thread of reassurance anchored itself to her heart, soothing her. Another heartbeat, and that wonderful feeling grew stronger, flooding her senses and dragging forth a deep sigh. She watched his arm pulse with light and power, a sense of wonder enveloping her. This is what it meant to be touched by a goddess. Was this magic? The sleepy question surfaced in the back of her mind and hung there, suspended, as her muscles relaxed and her head dipped forward. Her eyes closed, and she imagined she could feel the light seeping into her, healing her, carried by the warm pressure of Serriff's palm. The intimacy of the moment was unexpected...she imagined that she could feel every cell, every molecule trembling beneath his mark's influence. The sensation was all at once overwhelming and just right. It folded into the center of her chest, curling up like a large cat who's purring reverberated throughout her entire body, erasing her despair, her grief... And just like that, it was over. Ishara's eyes snapped open and went to her leg. The abrasion...was gone. Entirely gone. Nothing but new skin remained. The warmth lingered a bit, though the light retreated, and Ishara watched as Serriff drew his hand up her leg once more. "Ah...Thank you."

[Dex]

Dex was kneeling next to the big man with the glowy arm one moment, and then something odd happened. The big man put both hands on Dex's shoulders, and all of a sudden he didn't feel much of anything. The mark he realized was causing this, but it was almost more then he could handle. Something very special and natural was powered through that mark. As the big man placed his hands on Dex's shoulders, Dex's total stance changed. His shoulders slumped, his head hung down, his legs loosened completely, and his breathing became slow and deep. Everything in his body became relaxed, and he felt his body moved to the side, where he promptly laid unceremoniously on his side, on the ground, feeling the sand against his skin, the cool wind blow over his side, hearing the crash of the waves, and the minute sounds of the two big people near him. Everything was totally clear, and he was completely relaxed, his eyes closed. He wasn't quite sleeping, but was totally relaxed to the point that people who meditated would be jealous of his current state. All he did was lay on the sand, feeling, breathing, relaxing, and not in an active state.

[Serrif Von Chatlyn]

Her newly formed bronze skin was soft to the touch, he could even feel her toned muscles from years of riding horses. He remembered all the hits they traded on the beach and how he had learned in a way to fear her powerful legs. But now…under his warm large callused hands they didn’t seem so dangerous. No, they were feminine, soft, and strong. She had caught him in a somewhat precarious position as he noticed he still had his hands on her. His cheeks turned a faint color of red…was he blushing some? A faint somewhat nervous smile crossed his face as he gently removed his hands; wishing that they could linger longer and spread the gift he was still unaware of having.

“It is my duty to heal Ishara. My Goddess demands that much of me.” He stated as his eyes lingered in hers for a little while longer. What was he looking for…waiting for? He wasn’t sure, but it was a miraculous feeling for him as well.

The ability to mend flesh back to new was still astonishing for him. He could feel Rak’keli’s warm embrace channeled through his hands. It was a miraculous feeling to be able to heal wounds. To him it was something far past simple magic, it dabbled in the domain of the goddess herself. There was no magic he knew of that could heal wounds, silence chaos, and ease pain. Nothing like the powerful gift Rak’keli had empowered him with through the mark on his arm. There was no simple way to explain this to anyone, you had to experience it to know for sure that it wasn’t simple magic…it was divine.

“We all experience it a little different it would seem.” He said with a laugh as he looked to the Kelvic who seemed to be pleasantly napping on the ground without a care in the world.

If only he could be that care free. He supposed a simple mind could be kept happy by small things. He still didn’t understand how a Kelvics mind operated completely. They were simplistic in nature; easy to please yet they seemed to be looking for something. It was odd to him, but in a way a simple mind was an at ease mind. He wished at times that he could have a simple mind. That he could just operate with a loose set of moral guidelines of making himself happy. But he couldn’t, not with the scars he carried and the heavy memories that weighed with them.

[Ishara Dossari]

His duty...of course. The thought evaporated the flush of crimson staining her cheeks, and aided in reining in her focus. He is only doing his duty, though why that should matter at all was beyond her. Had he not done so admirably? He'd saved her from cleaning and dressing the wound herself...something within her skill set, but only barely. As the cool evening air replaced his hand on her leg, she tugged the fabric back down around it. Cerulean eyes fell to the Kelvic, and she smiled. He looked so...peaceful. So young. Hardly more than a child, it seemed, with his features relaxed and awashed in such innocence. It took several more heartbeats for Ishara to recall the burst of panic he'd caused. "It would seem you are not always stirring up trouble, hm?" she murmured, placing a gentle hand on the Kelvic's shoulder. She still had no name for him...but the realization bothered her less, now. She was at ease, almost... A yawn stole a lungful of air, and she smothered it with the back of her hand. Tired? Yes. She could easily crawl into her tent and sink into wave-washed dreams without a second thought. But she had company... "Please," she shifted, gesturing to the pot still warming by the coals. It was a dented piece, no doubt salvaged from one of the discarded piles of storm-damaged goods. But it still worked...and it still held another helping of spiced rice and fruit that was permeating the air with a scent akin to maple sugar and cinnamon. "You must be hungry."

[Serrif Von Chatlyn]

His Goddess called him to heal everyone equally without judgment. Which was something he was still learning. But as far as Ishara was concerned he wanted to heal her. Honestly he wanted any excuse to touch her delicate bronzed skin. However; he couldn’t let himself give too much into temptation. She was beautiful, and the more he found out about her the more he understood her. And unlike any previous encounters before her; Ishara seemed to have her head on straight. But he couldn’t jump to assumptions, not yet.

She offered him dinner and he respectfully declined. He knew food was likely hard to come by for her. Mostly because she didn’t have a job standing in Riverfall. He knew she was repairing houses and such; but that work would only last so long before everything was done. Then she would have to rely on whatever other skills she had to provide for herself. Or worse sink as low as to put herself into the debt of the city…no, she wouldn’t do that. She wouldn’t wear the silver bracelets of slavery that this city handed out to women.

“I hunger only for company Ishara. I have eaten already tonight.” The truth coupled with a lie, he hadn’t eaten but he did want her company.

He took a seat by the firepit and patted the ground next to him indicating where he wished her to sit if she wanted. She could sit anywhere but he would prefer her company close to him. That way he could read her emotions better, maybe even understand her body language better than if she decided to sit across from him. It was amazing what a person couldn’t hide. They could say whatever they wanted but usually a person’s body gave them away. Told you what they were really feeling or thinking. And he was just beginning to pick up on some of the more subtle things that Ishara did.

“Please sit I would love to enjoy your company.”

[Ishara Dossari]

Subdued, she sank down next to Serriff in the spot he'd indicated. Now that the excitement had passed, she had time to reflect on what an utter fool she'd been. Surely, he had to be wondering what good their lessons had been going to. After nearly two weeks of training, all she'd managed to do was trip and stumble over a wood pile when confronted with an "assailant." So much for self-defense... One glance at said "assailant" put a wry smile in place across Ishara's features. No more than a Kelvic with a nose for trouble and a light heart. The comical side of the whole situation improved her mood a bit, replacing her embarassment with a touch of good humor. Ishara slowly shook her head, picking up the pot of food and scooping up her spoon. Several mouthfuls later, her thoughts circling, Ishara gestured to the Kelvic... "I met him while sharing stories in the garden. He was a..." she'd never seen a ferret before, and so the title of his animal-form eluded her. Her brows furrowed, and she chewed thoughtfully, swallowing another mouthful before continuing, "...well, he wasn't human. He was...cat-like, maybe some kind of rodent? Definitely not human." Her shoulders lifted in a small shrug, and she scraped another mouthful off the bottom of the pot, studying what was left as the silence stretched between them. The last thing she really wanted to dwell on was how the Kelvic had unknowingly duped her... "Maybe that is what we need," Ishara murmured, her eyes sneaking a glance at them both before returning to her meal. She spooned the last of her dinner into her mouth and chewed slowly, her head falling back to read the carpet of stars stretching out overhead...as though searching for something. When she swallowed, she set the pot to one side, her spoon clattering as she tossed it within. "Another story?"

[Dex]

Dex slowly rose his head up, satisfied with his ferret nap. He licked his lips wet a few times and stretched out on the sand a little before sitting on the opposite side of the fire from the two of them, still a bit dazed. Slowly his mind worked up to some state of functionality and he realized two things. One was that he still didn't know what to call them, and two was that the man's arm glowed. Glowing arms sounded fun to Dex, depending on what you had to do to get them. Looking up from the fire and across at the two of them, he began his usual question barrage. "What's your name? Why does your arm glow and put me to sleep? Can I make my arm glow? Is it painful to make your arm glow? Do you want your clothes back yet? What are we doing now?" Well, there wasn't much to be said for ferret patience. He noticed the dog was still laying down and he absently scratched behind it's ears a little. As much as he ran away from dogs and picked on them, he really didn't mind them once he knew them better. His mother was a dog, so that probably explains it. Though he still drove some of them a little nuts with his juggling. Speaking of juggling, Dex scoured the ground near him for shiny shells and rocks. Only finding very few, but enough, he began tossing them up in the air and juggling just a little.

[Serrif Von Chatlyn]

OOCWoah! Forgot about this thread…sorry bout the wait

Intently he listened to Ishara’s description closely. One thing about working at the sanctuary was that you saw all kinds of animals. But the one she was describing was rather interesting. He was trying to paint a picture in his head as to what this man was in his animal form. But the more he tried the less it made sense. Rodent like…he hadn’t seen anything that would remind him of a cat and a rodent all at once. He didn’t even know of a rodent that got big enough to be considered cat-like. He shrugged a little.

“I’d have to see for myself to know for sure what animal you speak of.” He wasn’t a veterinarian by trade, but rather he was a healer. And in his mind animals had just as much feeling as people did. Just animals were a little simpler.

“A story would be nice.” Stories were important, especially when you were getting to know someone.

They told you of the culture they came from, what they believed and what was home for them. Serrif himself was still unsure of much of this in regards to Ishara. He wanted to know of the culture she came from, what her people believed, family life, food, shelter, and all the things that one just does not simply ask one to reveal. Such things were pivotal in order for him to know her better. Stories were more than just simple tales; they revealed values.

Just about this time the man woke up and began asking questions. Serrif smiled and just about the time he was going to answer the man was scowering the ground for things. The man seemed to be absent minded in a way. His attention scattered between all kinds of things from questions to objects to anything else really. It was odd…and Serrif felt the same way at times only he didn’t act on every impulse he had. Which was something the Kelvic man didn’t care for; he obviously acted on whatever impulses he had whenever he had them. He then began juggling these items and Serrif figured he would give the man an answer of some kind.

“One gets the mark I have by the Goddess Rak’keli, it doesn’t hurt but it feels…warm, inviting and peaceful. And you can keep the clothing for now. I believe Ishara has a story for us both.” That seemed to cover all the bases.

[Ishara Dossari]

"There," her hand ascended, pointing out a small cluster of stars that were closely knit into a shape resembling an uneven circle. "Do you see those stars?" Ishara leaned towards Serriff, her shoulder brushing his own as she attempted to align the direction her arm pointed with his own eyes. "That is the palace of Rhaja, a Prince of the Heavens. It is from there he once watched the mortal world every moment between sleeping and eating, following the lives of mortals from all walks of life. He became enchanted with their trials, their victories, their great loves and tragic losses. It was from this great vantage point he first beheld his true love, Shasya." Ishara dropped her arm, and glancing sidelong at Serriff and the juggling Kelvic, plucked a thin stick from the fire. Entinguishing it's burning tip in the sand, she began to sketch long, sinuous lines through the fine grains. "She was of the desert, the only daughter of a very wealthy merchant, with raven hair and eyes so green they were said to rival The Sea of Grass. He first looked upon her as she raced across the sands on a desert-bred steed, wind whipping in her hair, tangling it with the mane of her mount. Never had he seen a woman so spirited and lovely, and he knew he must have her. Knowing the traditions of her people after watching them for so long, Rhaja knew that he must approach her family to gain her hand, and provide a worthy gift to the merchant's only daughter." The lines in the sand began to resemble a horse..."and so, he bade his servants to saddle his most prized stallion, an animal as dark as the night sky, possessing eyes that shone with the light of the heavens. It's mane was silky blue-black, and streamed from his neck like a satin curtain. His tail was a banner of the same color, and as it was held aloft it glimmered like a sea of stars. There was never a creature more beautiful." Ishara finished the horse in the sand, it's delicate legs depicted in mid-gallop, it's tail whisked out behind him... "Rhaja descended to the sands, and rode into the Merchant's camp. The father of Shasya greeted the Prince with great surprise an amiability, praising his beautiful mount. When the Merchant learned that he intended to ask for his daughter's hand, he grew quiet and thoughtful. 'Verily,' he stated solemnly, 'since her mother passed, my single daughter is the center of my world, I care not for baubles when it comes to her, only that her heart is willing and her happiness great.' The prince acknowledged this, and asked to see Shasya. The Merchant's daughter was brought before him, whereupon he presented her with the prized stallion. 'He is yours, for the rest of your days, my lovely desert flower,' the prince murmured, kneeling before her, 'as am I, if you will have me.' Shasya placed her hand upon Rhaja's shoulder, and kissing him on the brow, accepted his proposal with a smile." Ishara's hand darted forward to whisk the horse away. "All were not happy with this proposal, however. Shasya's own cousin, Rajeesh, a rough man of even rougher nature, had decided long ago that he intended to take Shasya as his own. With the prince's arrival, and his plans in ruins, he decided to steal her away. So, on the first night after Rhaja had set off into the deserts of Eyktol to seek his blessing from Yahal, Rajeesh crept into the family's sleeping quarters and stole Shasya away." Faintly, a tremor ran through Ishara's heart, nudging open that yawning pit of grief that threatened to stop her tongue. The story bore an eerie resemblance to her own...and to think that it had been a favorite of hers since she was but a little girl pained her slightly. This one, though...ends differently, she reminded herself, and continued on. When Rhaja returned on what he believed would be his wedding day some few days later, he was dismayed to find his intended bride had disappeared and the Merchant cursing his own nephew. Easing their fears, he swung atop the midnight stallion he had given Shasya as a bridal gift, and sped off into the desert." Ishara's stick traced the outline of a sun setting atop a rugged horizon, a small horse and rider plodding along it's crest. "For many days, they traveled...until Rhaja reached a city of tents whereupon he stumbled across a troubling story. It seemed that a wealthy individual was paying handsomely for any physician with the knowledge to cure his intended bride. The woman was rumored to have gone completely mad, and the man with her was desperate for a cure so that they may be married. Acting upon his intuition, Rhaja disguised himself as a physician, and presented himself at the tent of the troubled would-be husband, who was indeed Rajeesh. Though skeptical at first, Rhaja's insistance that his potions had worked without exception finally swayed Rajeesh into letting him visit with his intended bride. Her symptoms were troubling, and Rajeesh insisted they look upon her without her knowledge for a moment, so that Rhaja may percieve the double-nature of her ailment. As they pressed their faces to a crease in her tent, where they could see within without her knowledge, they witnessed Shasya reclined upon a hep of cushions, singing softly to herself as tears coursed down her cheeks. Distressed at finding her so, Rhaja stood and stepped within...and Shasya immediately flew into a rage at the sight of his physician's robes. Whirling on her cousin, Rhaja insisted that he be left alone with her, if he was to treat her. Rajeesh left grudgingly, posting a guard at the door." Ishara glanced between Serriff and the Kelvic once again, wiping her sandy slate clean and beginning anew. "An hour passed, during which Rhaja calmed Shasya's fit with a whisper, informing her of his true self. Subdued, they sat together and developed a plan. It was not long before Rhaja called upon Rajeesh, who entered the tent to find his intended bride sleeping peacefully. 'I have given her potions that will render her well, but first she must breathe of some herbs I have brought so that the cure may take effect. Bring unto me a dozen braziers.' His wish was granted, and before long a dozen smoking braziers filled the tent, covering the air over with smoke so that it was impossible to even see the hand before your face. As Rajeesh burst into a fit of coughing, a piercing whistle shot through the tent...and the sound of galloping hooves thundered near. In a swirl of dark smoke, the tent was empty...and as Rajeesh stumbled out into the bright daylight, he watched Shasya gallop away, clinging to the waist of her physician as they rode away on a stallion as dark and beautiful as the night sky. Rhaja's voice carried across the wind, 'She is mine, Cousin! Do not seek to take her again, for I will not be so forgiving the next time!' Rajeesh pounded the sand in frustration as his bride-to-be was carried far away, where they were married within an hour of their return to her Father's home." Ishara lifted her sketching implement from the sand, where she'd traced out in fine lines two riders upon a horse that was stretching across the sands. She smiled softly at the image, a hint of sadness buried in her eyes before she wiped her hand across it and dusted the sand from her fingertips. "And it is to this day they reside in the palace in the stars, where no longer Rhaja obsesses over the lives of others, for he has his own wonderful life and love to tend to."

[Dex]

Dex yawned. He'd crawled over to the other side of them to get a better look at where she was pointing. Turns out, he didn't need too. From what he could tell, all she was pointing at were stars in the sky, and there were a lot of those tonight. Still feeling kinda dopey, Dex laid back on the sand and just looked at the stars as she spoke. He still had to get their names at some point. When she spoke, it was different. She didn't speak the same way that she had before during the night. Her voice was soft, but engaging. It was quiet, but it was potent. It took his mind, and stole it from his body. As odd as it was, he didn't mind. In fact, it was almost pleasant, showing something he hadn't seen before, but not actually showing it to him. Dex knew that he would need to figure this out, but later. His mind was busy being stolen, submerged in an interesting story. Dex rolled up into a sitting position, then twisted his legs behind him so he was laying on his stomach, his head on his hands. Ishara had begun drawing on the sand, an interesting affair of it's own. The stick she was holding was scratching into the sand, slowly making an image that related to the story. As she finished her story, Dex thought a little on it. Then he asked the questions that were itching at him, but his voice sounded tired, drawn out and slow. "What are your names? And who's Rak'keli?"