[Sacred Arch Hotsprings] A Union of Iron & Clay (Ha'na)

[Alistair deGrey]

67th of Spring, 510 AV Fidelity. The structure of the word is superfluous. For no matter which language one speaks, what obscure dialect is iterated, the meaning contains its characteristic. I bind myself to the earth as willingly as it accepts my shackles. With fidelity. Dawn approached. The shadows that laid about were threatening to lift soon, for Syna's first rays would soon usher them away. Dew graced the grass, and trees towered about two silhouettes quickly walking down the path to Sacred Arch Springs. The forest was silent, giving over its undivided attention to these two interlopers. Nothing stirred in the hour before Syna clawed her way into the sky. It was a time of quiet, but not for the silhouettes. Alistair deGrey and Ha'na hurried down the worn path. It was well used by patrols and citizens alike, for the Springs were close enough and valuable enough to warrant the occasional group of soldiers. But no knights marched down this road this morning. Hopefully, Alistair thought, they would have the springs to themselves as well. The idea in coming this early was two fold in beginning before others arrived, and in witnessing the dawn. This was a new beginning, clarity and warmth would be renewed with the sun. In one hand Alistair held a basket of food and lavender oil, the other grasped Ha'na's hand. In the lightening dark he spoke to her as they walked, his voice excited and hushed, "Not much farther my love." Though he was tentative to override the silence of their surroundings too much, deGrey could not keep anticipation from seeping into his tone. Today would be auspicious indeed. Alistair was garbed in his finest black tunic, which he had impeccably cleaned before hand. His figure was blurred and indistinct in the morning darkness, a shadow in shadows. His time at Mechanical Marvels had been gracious to Alistair, and he now cut a sharp figure compared to when he had arrived. He had trimmed his beard for this occasion, had ensured everything was in perfect order. If Alistair was aligned, hopefully everything else would be. Soon the smell of water filled the morning air, and warm drafts were felt. The Springs were near. Not a soul stirred. It was a theatre of quiet union.

[Hana]

The woman in question had not been able to sleep very well, if at all, during the night. It reminded her of the night before her birthday as a child, when she knew the day would bring celebrations and gifts from her tent. For the first time in as long as she could remember, however, those memories did not cause her sorrow. Her fingers wove tighter into deGrey’s as she followed just a half-footstep behind him. She was shorter, and she found herself fighting to keep up from time-to-time in the rushed sensation that she seemed to be swimming through. She didn’t, however, complain; she never really complained. Instead she just made sure that she picked her feet up the slightest bit more so she’d not stumble over them. And if the pace got too very quick for her, she simply pulled back on his hand gently. She had stepped out of her typical green dresses that tended to hide her form and mute the clay smudges she tended to have. Since all of her gowns were stained with the material of her trade anyway, she’d decided she would need something new. Without telling Alistair, for fear he’d want to buy it for her, she’d ventured out to find a new dress. What she had found was a rather lovely pink thing that actually showed off her figure for once and tied up her side with ribbons. Between the dress and her long hair worn down and loose, she nearly appeared to be another woman. When he spoke, she simply smiled. She wasn’t really sure what to say to it all. Instead she gave his hand a squeeze and allowed him a small, nervous giggle.

[Alistair deGrey]

Ink is as strong as steel in many respects. With ink we forge contracts, create history, spread knowledge. With ink we chain those who deserve sunlight to the confines of a catacomb. I shall rinse it all away in the springs, and allow her to see the sun again. The pace Alistair set began to slow noticeably as soil thinned to stone. Trees did not grow on the warm stone of the springs, but they certainly leaned in to breathe in its healing steam. Bushes, more able to eke out a living on thin soul, sprung from cracks here and there. But by far the most prominent feature of the area was the great stone arch that reached over the stream that fed Sacred Arch. The mentioned stream was the only noise to be had, a trickle to break the silence. There was a small, easily navigated, drop to stone outcroppings around the springs. Over the years water had carved out many a spot for the citizens of Syliras to rest their weary soles at. Down in the depression was the spring itself, a calm turquoise color. Morning steam lazily rolled about the surface of the water, tossed about by convection. Only two pairs of eyes fell upon the spring this dawn, one of iron and another of sapphire. Alistair looked about in the drained morning light, examining various spots to find one that would suit them. There we are. Down by the shore of the springs deGrey spotted a blackened pit to hold a fire, and a natural overhang that would provide shelter for the two. Leading down to the camping area was a path that even the most decrepit of creatures might navigate. "Here we are, Ha'na." It was not stated with any sense of grandeur or flourish. His voice held notes of excitement, but they were forced into second chair by his prevailing calm. Alistair stated this, as if this were some secret grotto he had created for just the two of them. That perhaps if he were to tear away the stone, wood, and water, the pair of them might find an assemblage of cogs, springs, and metal. This was their domain for a short span of time. He set down the path, linking his arm more securely with Ha'na's to support her. Whether or not she required it seemed irrelevant. It was not a difficult descent, and when they reached the shore deGrey sat down the basket by the firepit. Addressing Ha'na, "I shall return momentarily dearest, we need firewood." With that, Alistair pecked her on the cheek and quickly made his way back up to the ascent.

[Hana]

“It’s beautiful,” she whispered as if she was worried that despite the small voice she had, she would somehow break something about it in two. As he helped her down the path, she made her to stay close, pressing a warm cheek against his arm. While he may have learned to see when she blushed by now, he was sure to feel it in her skin as she did that. She turned her head up just enough that she could lock her eyes onto his profile, flashing a sparkling smile at him. “Absolutely perfect…” She wasn’t very fond of the thought of letting him go off, so when he moved away she kept her hand on him, pulling at his fingers until she was finally forced to let them fall away. The smile on her lips reflected in her voice as she said, “I love you.” And then she was alone, watching him retreat off to find them firewood. Her hands clasped in front of her. She bit her bottom lip and did her best to look around in hopes of memorizing the place. While he was gone, she found her mind going over the situation, combing over it carefully, examining every little detail. She was unsure of which divine being had led him down the path to her home on the day they met, but she was thankful all the same. It seemed too fateful to her that it had just randomly happened. Here was a man that made her truly happy to be around. It had been such a long time since she’d allowed anyone in, but there he was. She’d thrown the doors and windows open to her soul and let him sweep in like a breeze. No questions. No doubts. Alistair deGrey was the first warm day of spring in her life.

[Alistair deGrey]

Every ship needs an anchor, and the converse remains true. The anchor needs the ship to give it purpose, and the ship requires the anchor so that it might survive the storm. The world around him had not yet commenced its ritual of wakening, but Alistair was already moving through it like a man who never slept. He wove between trees, picking up this piece of tinder or breaking that branch from an old tree. Usually the inventor was mindful of the wood he used for fire, but now he floated through the area around the springs as if in a dream. He was not exactly careless, but little examination took place. His mind was elsewhere, left in a pair of delicate hands at the shore of a spring. The time it seemed to take for Alistair to acquire the fuel seemed negligent, but took quite a bit longer than expected, for everything on the ground had yet to shed the dew. Alistair came upon a small tree that a buck or some similar animal had rubbed its rack on. Scratches and indentations were etched into the tree’s side, and strips of bark were rubbed away. deGrey smiled at his good fortune, and proceeded to pry a few of the superior pieces from the tree. Whether or not he would readily admit it to anybody besides his love, Ha’na was Alistair’s anchor now. After she had accidentally tore him open, deGrey leapt for the opportunity to fill the gap Magnolia had left. Ha’na was the salvation he had not known he had been searching for. Now relinquish was a term forgotten to the inventor, he would never let Ha’na go like he had Magnolia. He would much rather see himself ended first. Hands full of tinder, bark, and as much non green wood as the forest would yield, deGrey set off back to his mind. He wove his way back through the deciduous forest, the warm water smells of the spring wafting to him. Alistair came upon the break in the trees, finding Ha’na at their spot. With little self-consciousness, deGrey smiled at the woman at the shoreline. On his way down, however, Alistair found his foot caught on a rock. He heaved forward, left foot skipping forward to catch the rest of him. A few pieces of wood slipped from his grasp to tumble down the short distance to the fire pit and shoreline, while the rest rattled about in Alistair’s arms. He struggled to maintain his balance for the rest of the short distance down, but managed to keep his feet under him while only losing about half of his load. The smile turned to a sheepish grin, and Alistair set about collecting his spilled product. Crimson crept up warm cheeks, but he was not too concerned. Accidents happened, and Alistair certainly partook in his share. Within short order, the fire’s fuel had been piled, and the inventor moved to the picnic basket. From its confines he pulled flint and steel, completely new from his cupboards. As he went about setting the bark and drier pieces of tinder into the fire pit and striking sparks, he engaged Ha’na, ”I trust no calamity has befallen you while I was absent, dearest?” deGrey was strange around Ha’na. His words, so often striving for neutrality, carried real emotion. Concern, joy, affection, these were things none but Ha’na heard from the man.

[Hana]

The first piece of wood that came tumbling down to where she was caused her to jump nearly out of her skin. She was quick to look up in hopes that she wouldn’t find Alistair careening down after it. When that did not happen, she moved to start gathering up what had been dropped. This was to be a partnership, and while he had managed to almost get through her head that she was not a servant, she still demanded that she at least be able to help. What she found, she put in a neat little pile next to the place the fire would be. After he dug out the flint and steel, she went to the basket to pull out a piece of silk she had bought when dress shopping. She had full intentions to turn it into a pillow and spread for the bed they shared, thinking that it would be nice to have the blessing of their vows soak into the warp and weft to warm them in the night. She, of course, would have to learn how to sew, but the woman she had purchased it and the dress from ensured her that pillow cases and a spread were the perfect project for a beginner. For now, though, she was more concerned with spreading it over the ground so they would keep from the dew and dirt. She glanced up at him, offering a bright, excited smile. “No, of course not. I spent the time simply taking in what is around me as best I could… I’m afraid the emotions will get in my way of remembering every detail I possibly can. I want to make a pitcher or a vase to commemorate this.”

[Alistair deGrey]

I am swift beginning to realize, that Ha'na has become my heart. She is as much a part of me as my lungs or mind. I find myself unable to, and never wanting to, part with her. For what man can live without his heart? A broad smile broke Alistair's facade as he heard of her intentions. Not only did the concept of her casting a piece for this occasion please him, but this proved that Ha'na was beginning to formulate her own plans. That, in particular, breathed great lungfuls of warmth into deGrey. When he had first met Ha'na not so long ago, he had seen how timid she was. The two had been rather pathetic, similar to a pair of Kelvics. But now, with no small effort, Alistair had coaxed the woman out of her envelope. A letter could not unfold when sealed. Now perhaps deGrey could read her. Though he would rather have collected the wood himself, Alsitair knew that old habits died hard or not at all. He had allowed her to aid him, keeping his silence on the matter. He would not bring it up, and neither did it phase him in the face of his love's idea, "Ha'na, your ideas leave me breathless." deGrey had meant it when he said he thrived from her ideas. The banter of concepts was what fueled his brain, and the possible designs and functions of the vase richocheted about his mind. He continued, "I am glad you find this place pleasing, I was not sure whether or not you would approve." Alistair's voice, unfaltering, sounded slightly nonchalant as he made the last statement. Though the reality was quite different. The man had stressed and planned for days. Viewed and reviewed, planned and scrapped, purchased and returned, until he thought he would never achieve satisfaction. In the end, Tenner's words overrode Alistair's plans. Keep it simple. deGrey reconsidered the entire design, and scrapped it for this. It was simple. Alistair closed the few steps between him and his bride to be, wrapping his arms about her. Her heat seeped into him, an osmosis to make a man's heart falter. "Truly my love, you wind me like a clockwork." The trickling of the stream disappeared among the paralytic silence of Ha'na. She commanded Alistair's ears as she commanded the rest of his body. He leaned down to kiss her, breathe in her scents, anticipating her taste. It was a small thanks for the electric charge.

[Hana]

The kiss that she returned gave away that she had been conservative with her passion. Her hands moved up to cradle his jaw as she returned the affection with a certain sureness that was possibly unexpected from her. This was a man she wanted to share her life with, not a man she wanted to give her life to, and he had somehow managed to teach her that there was a difference between the two. With that lesson had come a stronger determination to keep herself under control until she was sure that it was a wise choice on her part. Now she felt it was. Now she didn’t hold back. She kissed him until she was breathless, and only then did she pull away the smallest bit so she could take in air and his warmth at the same time. Her eyes opened to peer into his. Her lips curved up into the smallest of smiles. She hoped that perhaps what she had just done conveyed what she felt when her Common failed her, because sometimes it did. Language was a rather tricky thing – Common not so tricky as the Arumenic that she had lived around, but tricky all the same. She worried that her meaning to things would get lost in the words, but her kiss, her expression, the way her breath caught just so when he looked at her… She hoped that would tell him what she failed to put into words. The smile she had only grew as she peered up at him; she bit her bottom lip for a moment as she considered what she wanted to say. With a twinkle in her eyes, she finally whispered, “I grew up in a desert – a place where water is held in highest regard. One doesn’t take it for granted. You’ve brought me to the most luxurious place in Mizahar as far as I am concerned. I’m no longer sure I lived before you… And you bring me to this place to start a new life with me… A place filled with the very element that nurtures and feeds creation. Alistair, it’s perfect. I don’t find it pleasing, I find myself almost as in love with it as I am with you.”

[Alistair deGrey]

Cheva take my soul, no longer do I live for metal. There is something else that lurks beneath the surface, this iron mantle. I must tear away the shell and discover it. A lightheaded concept wrapped itself around Alistair's brain. It was more powerful than a feeling, incomprehensible in its strength, and did not warrant such a classification. As Ha'na's lips welded with Alistair's like copper to tin, the world slowly dissolved. Many times had he spoken words of time to his love, and he believed himself to understand the babble he had iterated. But now, something new presented itself, something humble and grandiose at the same time. It was a city of stars secreted away beneath the earth. Most saw it as a faded silhouette, but somehow deGrey knew that he had discovered something solid. Alistair breathed, "You cannot know how that pleases me my love, how you please me." The concept that coiled itself about Alistair earlier disentangled itself, transmitting itself from his mind to tongue, that he might tell Ha'na, "I might spend forever with you Ha'na, and forget of time. When the centuries whither, I will remain with you my love. You have taken a loneliness I thought I had treasured, and shown me what it means to love. Amongst machines, I had forgotten what it was like to be human. I have no way to repay you, but instead offer you my love." Alistair smiled in amusement as he reflected. He was unsure what had spurred the small speech, perhaps to make the surrender of information mutual. Ha'na had given up something to him, and Alistair felt compelled to return the favor. Information was a dear resource to him, but he would have released everything into his loves' mind if she asked it of him. However brief the moment of self analysis was, it was felt to be too long by Alistair. His attention turned back to Ha'na, the heartbeat that fueled his own. His slate eyes analyzed the details of her facade even as his mind basked. His hands explored her contours delicately, like one of his many machines. Precision and passion required in equal parts. Alistair's clouded memories rolled over the path, and though his mind fought through the haze, his body continued its progress. He had felt hot lips against his before, the press of a woman was familiar. Alistair bent his neck, gently kissing Ha'na's neck. A quiet voice berated the inventor for his advances, but no longer was Alistair an inventor. Its words were lost in the flames.

[Hana]

Her arms wrapped about his waist in an attempt to keep him as close as possible to her. She tipped her head slightly, allowing him better access to her neck. The noise she let out was somewhere between a little chuckle and a moan, and she found her eyes closing once again. It would have been easy to get lost in that exact moment. In fact, she wanted nothing more than to have it stretched out into eternity. But there was something that needed to happen first before she could allow it, before she could truly bask in the warmth of his touch. If it hadn’t been for her past, she would have lost herself in the present. As it was, her hands traveled up his back, over his shoulders, and gently down his arms until she could ease his fingers off of her by intertwining them with hers. Her head turned until she could brush her lips against his ear and whisper sweetly, “Come sit with me, my love. Let us be husband and wife.” Barely breaking contact with him, she took steps backwards. She only moved away from him so she was able to comfortably kneel down on the piece of silk she had brought for them. Still holding onto his hands, she urged him down to the ground with her. The smile on her face was simply radiant. Her light blue eyes threatened tears of joy. “I want to be able to say what I have been considering… What I’ve been thinking on, because yesterday while I was scrubbing my hands I realized something very important.” She squeezed his hand to punctuate this information. “I realized that for nearly a decade I have been quite cruel to myself, being very hateful for the mistakes of my past. And while many of them were my fault, I didn’t have the power in me to forgive. My hands have been a bitter reminder of all that I have lost… But yesterday, as I said, I was washing the clay off of them and it occurred to me that if it had not been for those mistakes, if it had not been for the pain that kept me constantly moving over time… If it had not been for truly losing everything that I held dear to me, I would have never met you. The thought of being without you is so horrible, and so I am thankful for the pain of my past. Without it, I wouldn’t know true happiness.”