The Call Of A Starry Night (Vanator pls)

[Glayce Lightstorm]

Timestamp: 62nd of Spring, 510 AV Location: Plains outside Endrykas SongstampAyreon - Isis and Osiris The savage being that was called Glayce Lightstorm had walked away from Endrykas. As a true child of the Sea of Grass, she didn’t like the loud noise and bustling atmosphere between countless tents. Footprints, gesturing hands and voices filled with laughter and bargaining surrounded her when she walked the extensive encampment’s paths. Everything was interesting and new. Glayce, trying to get a grasp of every single object or happening of interest she came across, was no longer able to divide her attention. The sickening feeling of tearing apart, shattering to pieces was inevitable. She wondered what caused her to stay and stay and stay … For many days she lived within the borders of Endrykas. Although unaware of it, she had become a common figure for the others, someone who watched and was noticed, but hardly ever addressed. A strange person she was, full of secrets. Although she could and did speak from time to time, nobody knew details about her past. Due to the blues in her clothing she was suspected to belong to the Sapphire Clan. Because of the clean and flexible shortbow and quiver she carried and the rabbits and partridges she brought back she was suspected to be a proficient hunter. She could be seen riding a beautiful male Drykas Strider, a palomino with dark mane and tail. Everything else was hidden in the shadows Glayce liked to cover herself with. The nights she loved and honored by venturing out into the grasslands and watching the brightly glowing threads of the Web that stretched out to the horizon and even further away. The unbelievable vastness and the feeling of freedom she swam on when entering the Web was everything that mattered to her. That night she had chosen to leave her shortbow in the tent, although that might prove to be reckless, considering the glassbeaks and even more dangerous creatures roaming the wilderness. Glayce, however, wasn’t frightened. The high grass was where she had grown up. Nothing could surprise her. Teval she had left in Endrykas as well. He was safer there than out with her. Everything she wanted to concentrate on was the enchanting pull of the Web, anyway. So she climbed up a soft hill and sat down at the top, facing the stars. They were shining bright that night, although a few spots were covered by small, misty clouds. Sometimes Glayce wondered how the stars could appear so bright to other people when the real color and light lay in the Web. The sight came natural to her. Concentrating on the lines running across the landscape that stretched out beneath her was enough. The colorful, glowing threads twisted, split, entwined, wrapped around one another and formed a fascinating pattern of distant whispers and images. The Web was the perfect communication network for Drykas all over Cyphrus. For a very brief moment Glayce considered contacting her father, the Ankal of the Lightstorm pavilion. A second later she abandoned the idea. The connection to her family was broken. Nothing could mend it. She herself had destroyed the last thread between them and herself by running away in that darkest night. Sitting cross-legged atop the hill with eyes closed and hands folded Glayce immersed herself in the breathtakingly beautiful Web pattern.

[Vanator]

Night had fallen swiftly, urging the reluctant Drykas rider to to seek a path back to Endrykas. A brace of grassland fowl hung from the yvas, the reward for a day spent in hunting and needed relaxation. Vanator spent quite a bit of time criss-crossing the plains around the Drykas city. He was used to the deeper grasslands, traveling with his Pavilion. Curiously he had stayed in the city for almost the length of a season. He had found many reasons to stay, though. Reasons that also came with complications. His excursions into the Sea of Grass provided a refuge from the crowds inside Endrykas' protective web. Straightening his back and stretching his neck, Vanator gazed skyward as Backlash plodded lazily through the tall grass. The inky sky was studded with starry lights, a broad swath of curiously random pinpricks that the man found beautiful and majestic, a stellar canopy to light his way home. The grasslands seemed particularly still and quiet, as if all its denizens stood in awe of the evening sky. The serenity lulled Vanator into a pensive mood, and he dared to let his mind drift to memories carefully guarded. Images of Tamar, young and stunning in beauty. They were pleasant recollections of his lost wife that he carefully groomed and savored. Vanator's glassy gaze drifted to a nearby knoll. Only semi-consciously did he see the woman, her outline dimly silhouetted against the starlit night. As his mind still embraced remembrances of Tamar, for a dream-like moment he thought it was her he saw. Lucidity quickly returned and he recognized it as a stranger seated on the low rise. Without a word, his Strider veered towards the woman, Vanator noting no sign of a mount. As he drew near, the woman did not move, stone still in the grass. He believed her to be Drykas, though she had no Strider, or even weapons. But even in the failing light he recognized the countenance of one who walked the Webs. He dared not disturb her, though he frowned at her decision to practice the art alone and unarmed amid the Cyprhus night. She either bore the brash Drykas boldness of his people, or suffered from mental incapacity. In either case, he decided to remain, stand as a vigil of sorts over her. Not because she was young, or a woman, for among the Drykas, neither was an indication of weakness. No, he would stand guard simply because when one walked the web, their body was defenseless. Slipping down quietly from the Strider, Vanator slid the battle axe from a lopp on the yvas and leaned on it. He found himself studying the woman, even in the dark, as she presented an interesting sight. She wore rugged leather clothes that concealed the form of her body. her head was bound in a scarf, blue he thought, confining a tangle of dark hair adorned with beads and feathers. Most curious was the absence of the last two fingers on her left hand. Such injuries were not unusual among Drykas, and usually was accompanied by a harrying tale. The Drykas man turned away, suddenly feeling odd staring at her body while she was among the webs. Instead, Vanator's eyes scanned the surroundings, then turned back to the fascinating expanse above them.

[Glayce Lightstorm]

After losing her brother and the respected position within her pavilion, Glayce had found new delight in walking the Web and looking for broken and destroyed parts within its vastness. Perhaps she felt drawn to the incomplete parts of the otherwise perfectly beautiful Web, perhaps she just needed something to do. Either way, she quickly became what was called a Webwalker, someone who mended the Web at its weakest points.

So, when she wandered the Web, she almost automatically looked for unusual bumps and holes among the threads. Yet she was enchanted by the breathtaking beauty and the feeling of power that entangled her whenever she embraced its rainbow colors and shimmering threads. Every cell of her astral body, her soul that followed the colors, trembled with its addicting lure. It was beyond words, that feeling that drew her into the Web again and again, but also terrified her at times. That particular trip, however, came to a peaceful and smooth end.

Glayce discovered a damaged cairn two or three days away from Endrykas. Through the Web she could see the blurred image of the landscape, a small river meandering through flat grassy plains. The increase of water coming from molten snow had snatched several stones from the quiet anchor. Someone had to mend it … sooner or later.

Slowly traveling back, enjoying every second her astral feet touched the light path, she approached her material body. As she shot a quick glance at the hill where she had sat down, she noticed that she wasn’t alone anymore. A man stood in close proximity to her sitting body, seemingly unmoving. What did he do there? If her astral body had featured a brow, Glayce would have furrowed it. Quicker than intended she slipped into her material body with a sudden whoosh. Her eyes snapped open as if awakening from an unpleasant nightmare. Her second look touched the man and caught him staring.

“What are you doing here?” she asked in a slightly croaky and sharp voice. After wandering the Web, she always found it difficult to command her body appropriately. As if it had rusted during her absence. For some unknown reason she felt uncomfortable with knowing that the man had observed her body while her soul had been among the Web. As if she had been caught at doing something forbidden. Naturally walking the Web was a known and respected activity among the Drykas – and she could see that he was Drykas, considering his Strider and the braids woven in his hair –, yet Glayce didn’t like other people looking at her when she was defenseless.

Perhaps that was stupid, given the danger out in the grasslands, but Glayce didn’t care. Animals weren’t as narrow-minded as humans, after all. Why had he come across her relaxing place anyway? This time Glayce’s material brow furrowed and her left, three-fingered hand fidgeted with the two feathers tied to a darker strand of her hair. In the dark it appeared brunette while in fact it featured golden blond as well as dark brown strands. The beads dangled quietly when she moved.

After a sigh and a blink she looked up to the Drykas again. A pale grey stare in the darkness. “Why do you try to protect a complete stranger?” Oh, she didn’t understand! She just didn’t understand why people could be so … caring. A dark foreboding crossed her look, but only for seconds. She could imagine, yet she disagreed. To Glayce that concept had become foreign.

[Vanator]

Vanator watch the woman stir as her astral self joined the waiting body. He was familiar with the sensation, an unnerving experience to which he still had not grown accustomed. It was quite different than waking from sleep, for when you returned from walking the web, you were fully aware as your body sparked again with a soul. The woman's sharp question should not have surprised Vanator, and he flushed with a bit of guilt. Of course she would have been startled to find a stranger standing over her. Even in the dim illumination he could see confusion and annoyance in her young features, echoed in the pale, smokey eyes that shown beneath her delicate, furrowed brow. The Webwalker's second question, in turn, caused the Drykas man's face to frown, his head shaking slightly, not understanding. "How can we be strangers if we are both Drykas? All that separates us is that we do not now by what name to refer to one another." His visage softened, becoming more congenial. "I am Vanator, first son of the Ankal of the Denusk Pavilion of the Sapphire Clan. I did not mean to startle you, or intrude. But surely you would not expect me to simply pass you by, a sister without a Strider or a weapon alone in the Sea, and not offer the common courtesy of guarding your earthly form as you practice the most honored art of our people?" Vanator's father had taught him that a good leader learned to read people. It was a skill his father had mastered, Van simply looked to gut and instinct. The Drykas man's gut told him that this woman was not being surly or contentious, her questions were honest and sincere. The fact piqued his interest.

[Glayce Lightstorm]

The words the other Drykas spoke rushed past like a stream of meaning that was lost to her. In theory she did understand, but when it came to utilizing that concept, she would have no other choice than bowing out with a frown. Still, she recognized him introducing himself and nodded in acceptance. “Glayce of the Lightstorm pavilion, Sapphire Clan as well. The same blood … flows through our veins”, she added, whispering to herself. What did that mean? Her blood was cursed ever since … but of course the rest of the Sapphire Clan didn’t have to know about her. Word couldn’t have spread so quickly.

Apart from that Glayce knew that at the yearly meeting of all Drykas stories were told – not only fictitious, but also histories. However, she had escaped after the last meeting. Eyes narrowing, she wondered if he had heard her name. The Ankal of the Lightstorm pavilion was known for his expertise in Webbing.

Well, of course he would know now, wouldn’t he? Vanator he was called. Glayce was uneasy with the possibility of someone knowing about her past or her family. That chapter she had run from and desired to forget.

So, instead of dwelling on the topic of protection, a slight smile lit her face when thinking about Webbing. Oh, that was far more interesting, more colorful to speak about than clan relationships! Rising in a single energetic movement, Glayce now faced Vanator on eye level. Her eyes seemed to radiate with some unearthly, strangely cold glow. Webbing clearly fascinated her. Perhaps even more than that, given the roughness of her voice and the ungraceful movements of her body. Her body adjusted slowly … so slowly.

But Glayce did admit it neither to herself nor to the fellow Drykas. Instead she heard herself say: “Oh, yes, an honored art it is. Did you know that, conversely, it can turn into the worst situation a human can experience? I’m sure you’ve heard of the term overextension, right? You seem fairly normal to me, though.” Inspecting him from head to toe, she circled him once. He was armed. His horse was a beautiful, intelligent exemplar – and behaved a bit uncomfortably around her like every Strider. These horses knew if one’s attitude wasn’t quite right, but perhaps Vanator would oversee that little detail. Again Glayce smiled. “How much do you know about Webbing?”

Oh, she almost pushed him out into the Web just to judge his ability. However, the truth was that she wasn’t sure if she could do that. Still a novice she was, but yearning for the colors of the Web every moment she was away from it.

[Vanator]

Glayce of the Lightstorm Pavilion, Sapphire Clan. "Indeed we are not strangers, for we are kin." He gave the young webber a cautious grin. They may be of the same blood, but the girl's behavior was still guarded. Vanator did not fault Glayce for her apprehension, despite all of his words, they were still unfamiliar to one another. Vanator's eyes narrowed. The Lightstorm pavilion was known to him, a family particularly skilled in creating and walking the Webs. Vanator had met others from her pavilion, in sometime past, though Glayce's featured stirred no memories. He did know that some eight year earlier, the Ankal of the Lightstorm Pavilion had lost his heir. The woman rose in a fluid motion, to stand before him. In the dim starlight, the Drykas man's eyes focused on the hauntingly faint pale glow of Glayce's eyes. Her demeanor changed, as if a more pleasant thought had come to occupy her attention. There was no mistaking the enthusiasm Glayce had for Webbing, and as she posed her questions, Vanator considered how to answer. In all honesty, at his age, and as an Ankal's son, he should be quite proficient in arts of the Web. But after the death of Tamar, he could not bear to travel the strands, painfully void of her presence. it was only a couple years ago that he began to practice the art again, only creating or accessing webs as necessary. Vanator's eyes darted out to the dark grasslands before returning to Glayce's gaze. "I have been trained by my father, but I do not practice regularly."

[Glayce Lightstorm]

Kin … and yet he was cautious around her, mirroring her own mistrust towards him. Not that she was suspicious of him in particular, rather it was a general thing around the grasslands, but being a Drykas, she was sure that Vanator was very aware of that fact. People were easy to read, despite their apparent care not to give away too much. Her opponent, for example, wanted to be nice towards her, but his instincts hadn’t been fully switched out yet.

Perhaps she should do something to remind him that even humans weren’t always friendly towards other humans. Not even Drykas. Perhaps he knew that … but had forgotten in Endrykas where everyone stuck together. Surely he had come with his family. Glayce thought that she had caught glances of other blue pavilions and equally colored clothing. Not that she cared. She avoided the color blue whenever possible. No doubt that she had gotten a special reputation, since it had been long enough since her departure. Involvement was to be avoided if one wanted to remain content. Not enough time for new consideration had passed yet.

But Vanator was allright, she thought carefully. A single one who didn’t seem to know the details. When relaxing, she realized that her body had been tense. She shifted and kept her pale orbs fixed on Vanator. It was a penetrating stare, a look featuring a shocking intensity that made others uncomfortable. Nobody looked at people like Glayce did. Nobody saw what she saw. She knew it, and she could clearly see the appropriate reaction. She liked to think that she saw clearer than most people – she didn’t miss the most important details. Additionally, she had more experience from living through extreme situations. People always mirrored one another, especially families used to one another. That was how blood connections were formed and passed on.

But Glayce didn’t converse with that Vanator just to find out the specialty of his bloodline. She didn’t deny her curiosity … but at the moment her attention was on different things.

What she noticed next was that he felt uncomfortable with speaking about the topic. Apparently he liked to train more than he had for the previous seasons. Apparently his father was an Ankal as well for only the leaders of a pavilion were proficient enough in Webbing to teach it to others. Usually she passed on her knowledge to their children, specifically to those who were destined to become the next Ankals. Strong, self-confident and intelligent individuals. People that were everything Glayce had lost and left behind.

Suddenly she saw Vanator in a different light. He symbolized something she had once hoped to achieve, a way that had been turned into a dead end by the cruelty of life itself. While she knew that she couldn’t hate the grasslands and the beast that had ripped her brother’s chest open, she had other options at hand. She could, for example, have some fun with this one. He wanted to trust her. He thought he knew what women were.

Now Glayce was determined to show him what and who she was.

Taking a step towards the other Drykas, she smiled and suggested: “Let’s see what you still remember then, shall we? You certainly want to train more intensively.” Her manner of speaking had slowed down, was almost monotone now. Perhaps he would sense that she was up to something. However, she hoped that he felt confident enough with the Web to let her do what she planned – to let her take the role of the master.

While speaking she had already started to listen to her breathing, extending her attention on her body. Every breath washed over every inch of skin, every heartbeat sent echoes through her inner organs and veins under her skin. Slowly the presence of Djed slipped into consciousness, a mysterious glow that felt too surreal to be real. Yet Glayce knew that it existed and that she could control it to a certain degree. When turning her attention towards Vanator again, she saw that he was tied into the Web as well. The son of an Ankal … cherished and protected by the Web of his family. Naturally.

However, she didn’t shy away from the original plan. The single bright thread tied into his Djed already connected him with the great Web of the Drykas, so it would be easier. Glayce took another step, rose to her toes and reached out with one arm. Seconds later her hand would grab the thread binding him to the Web and physically as well as mentally drag it towards the glowing patterns above. Vanator would feel a sudden push as if something attempted to rip his soul from his body …

With an abrupt exhale Glayce let go and watched the result. She expected to feel the man’s soul ascend towards the Web and see his body relax.

[Vanator]

As Glayce's luminous gaze settled upon his eyes, the flecks of gold in Vanator's dark irises seemed to shimmer. He did not flinch from the intensity of the girl's stare, even as he felt her almost tangible attention. Van found he could not look away from her, even as the Drykas knew she probed at his soul, searching his motives, gauging his fortitude. She was very young, but Vanator sensed something about her that could not be defined, not yet. Even as Glayce's incredibly stunning glare strove to penetrate him, he detected in her eyes a curiosity, calculating and ominous, but not quite malevolent. The Lightstorm moved with confidence around the man, as if she already knew so much about him. She both unnerved him and intrigued him at once. He had met plenty of wanders and lone travelers on the plains, But none as suspicious and fascinating as Glayce. Vanator heard a whispered warning within his psyche. Glayce was exceptional, but not to be underestimated. There was more to the young woman than he could know. And he had a cold feeling she was a loner. Though his webbing talent was a bit rusty next to the mysterious stranger, Vanator was able to bring his mind to focus on djed quick enough to see the strand she reached for, his own conduit to the Web. He fought a sudden panic. He did not know, nor trust her intentions. Too late he realized what Glayce was doing, and he felt himself torn from his corporeal body and flung into the vastness of the Web. The flesh that was Vanator collapsed at Glayces feet. It was a familiar sensation, being in the Web, though he had only entered it a few times in the past few seasons. Vanator focused, gained his bearings, looking out down the strands that criss-crossed round about him. Seeing the presence of Glayce near him, the older Denusk Drykas acknowledged the younger Lightstorm's superior webbing abilities. She was testing him ...in a very Drykas way. The only way to know if one can truly swim is to throw them into the water.