Sifting Through the Present (Solo)

[Aello]

Timestamp: Winter 21, 512 AV Ivory colored bones grated against the surface of paling skin; any color long having fled with the pressure applied them with the girl's slumber. The stark white tone of her winterbane's coat merely added to the reflection as the sun's rays danced off its surface; casting a bleached light onto reddening nose as the aurist shifted uncomfortably in her course of slumber. Her eyes scrunched even more tightly shut as she groaned as her spine drew across the jagged stones that rested beneath her. Causing the first snow's flakes to melt against the heat of her lithe form with the darkening of her dreams. As they continued to cause her mind unease, Syna persisted. Shining her light onto all that needed illumination, filtering through the thinning line of trees that sheltered Aello's rocky bed; casting long shadows across the surface of the world. Their spindly arms, long barren, shuddering with the coming winds as the sun's light began to pour into the girl's eyes, causing them to shudder before finally opening. Blinking in the light; her irises chasing blue streaks as she grew accustomed. The huntress smiled weakly. Another day, she thought, as she eased herself into a sitting position and glanced over at her sleeping companions. They may be asleep awhile, her mind added, as she took in the subtle rise and fall of their chests and then cast her gaze even further, to the teardrop shaped vial that rested just beyond the pycon known as Lily. It was a simple enough vial; a shade of blue that mirrored the gnosis mark Tanroa had bestowed upon her. A lighter make, filled to the brim with water, which simply darkened the glassy hues. Crushed mint leaves had sunk to the bottom; she couldn't see the green, just an ugly brown splotch at the bottom of the glass. Gently, she lowered her form. Stretching it across the stone, extending her right hand to retrieve the vial. Fingers brushing over a smooth surface. Nails clicking as appendages furled and pulled the piece closer as bones creaked with the straightening of body. A pull into a sitting position. The huntress smiled weakly as she held the glass a little more firmly, and pulled the stopper, allowing the smell of mint to fill the air as her muddied irises trailed over the water. It was a soft green now; a pastel. "The stars did this to you," Aello whispered. "Sitting beneath them made you shimmer," she added, as she took a deep breath in through the nose and out through the mouth as she mentally prepared herself to enter the chamber of the present for the first time. Another moment and she had put the stopper back into place, before she set the vial against the taut folds of fabric in her lap. Another tick, and she was pulling off her hunting boots, her socks, and setting them beside her. Against her quiver, her father's old bow, and pack. When she had finished, Aello took another deep breath, and then plucked the vial from her lap. Another chime, and she had taken off the stopper and turned the glass, spilling the contents on her hands and feet. As soon as the last drop had left her container, the vial fell into her lap as delicate fingers trickled down to meet the earth. Silently sketching an enclosed figure eight; a symbol of eternity. Her fingers slid against the uneven surface with ease, her nails creaking against the stone. Grey, relentless, she left no mark. She hoped it would be enough. The huntress closed her eyes just as the wind picked up again. Sweeping through the stone as though there was nothing in its path; rustling her chestnut colored mane. Sending the frayed edges swirling about her neck, tickling her flesh. For a moment, she rested in the balance, a place between worlds before she was birthed anew. Torn from tranquil river. Her body rising through soft blue; splashing, as eyes awakened and hair clung to bare flesh. Skin paling with the cold as thin rivulets coursed down its length. "I am here," Aello whispered, as she rose from the stream. Leaving the nether portions of her body submerged while the rest remained cloaked only by clear air; the splaying strands of her hair.

[Aello]

Tentatively, she stepped forward. Her movement as measured as the times she spent hunting in the forest. Aello scarcely breathed as she drew her legs through the water, causing it to swirl around her thighs, her chest. It seemed to bubble as it flowed endlessly, pushing her along with it, further into the antechamber's depths. As she continued, a soft mist seemed to wade off the surface of the water, serving to veil everything her eyes sought to truly see for the first time, without the aid of her magic. Frustration with the element caused the huntress to nibble on her lower lip; creating ridged crenallations where formerly there had been none. As the color bled from her lips, the mist seemed to part with her passing, although it still cloaked her on either side. Even so, her muddied irises managed to pierce through the steamed water; twisting tendrils, although it took them some time, into the world beyond. And what she saw hidden there surprised her as much as it seemed to fit within the confines of her mind, and what she knew of Tanroa and her vast stores of power. A canvas stood before her; laden with running water. Paint which seeped through the spaces between a brush's bristles when the artist tried to cleanse his instruments to add a new hue to the palate. Hot coursed with cold; red with yellows and oranges, blues, greens and black. Slate grey and soft pinks, streaming into delicate golds and soft spun silver. The water made the art, depicted everything she had once seen before entering the chamber- the rocks she had sought shelter behind for the night, the sun hanging low in the eastern sky, a pale blue shimmering with the pale yellow light of the sun's rays. Illuminating the uneven terrain strewn with both stone and twisting trees. Gnarled limbs grown barren with the season; leading them to reach all the more for the sky as their roots crawled across the earth like slithering snakes. Their diamond backed scales scorched; sinking into their skin as they came close to laying still; dying. Only their will to keep moving towards the shade's protection giving them the appearance of the chamber's continual flow. Its constant shift as it fought to uphold the present.

[Aello]

Aello strode through the sodden earth, the swollen river in silence. Her muddied irises running as freely as the water that surrounded her. It felt cool against her skin, giving rise to delicate goose bumps as fine hairs were plastered to paling flesh. Beads of moisture continued to trickle down between the indentures that ran from one shoulder blade to the next, the spaces between her breasts as she neared a twisted birch. Its slender branches weaving in and out of each other, and all around a narrow space. They seemed to dance merrily as they reached for thin tendrils of a watery sun's rays. As though she were fully submerged, and looking up at it from behind a glassy veil. The light cascaded down the length of the tree's soft grey bark, intermixed with a crackling white which mirrored the torn, flaked appearance of the tree. Although, in this context it seemed as though it had been set to fire and had begun to melt, but there was no smoke, leaving the girl to be all the more drawn to it than she may have been normally. As she glided through the water, her right hand rose steadily from her side. Until it was level with about her shoulder. Her palm held down, fingers together, she extended towards the shimmering tree. Within a few more strides, a few ticks of the clock, Aello had reached her destination. Her fingers had fallen against the bark; long nails scratching its surface, causing the water to flow over it. She held her hand flat then, as though she were patting the earthen creation. She let it rest there a moment, before following the elegant flow back down towards her lithe form. At which point, the huntress realized that the entity was more a blend of what she knew reality to be, and what her eyes were telling her. For the bark felt like she had always remembered, somewhat rough with several small beads pressing against the surface of her skin. Causing it to tingle, and yet, it also felt like fluid. Cool, weightless. Malleable. And she couldn't help but wonder how it could be both. Smiling weakly, she guided her hand back up to her eye level, and pushed it against the surface of the birch to test its strength. It seamed to move with her, and yet it didn't. It was as though it had fallen back, given way to her, as a younger birch may have, but at the same time, it seemed as though her eyes had deceived her and it had kept its previous position. "But how can you be both?" Aello whispered. "Don't you have to be either one or the other?" Sighing to herself, the huntress began to wonder if there was some way she could test it. To find out the truth behind the matter. Slowly, she pushed her right foot forward through the water, and brought it to the base of the tree. Another moment, and her left had pulled up alongside it. Another breath, and her left hand had moved a few inches above the right, bracing her body as she pushed up against the ground with both feet. Propelling her body upwards in a fit of swirling water, a plethora of bubbles. She could almost hear them sounding; popping one by one as she pushed her feet into the tree's lower trunk, and then tried to pull herself up by scrambling her hands, one after the other. Perhaps, she lost her footing somewhere along the way, or perhaps, it was never made to support her, for soon the girl found herself falling through the air, and then plunging into the water with a near inaudible splash. Although, her ears rang, and on impact, her eyes instinctually shut, opening a door she hadn't intended to quite yet. When she opened them again, the water had drained, and the world was as it had always been. The huntress though, stood shivering though, and completely nude, a bit away from where she had made camp. With teeth chattering, and arms barred over her chest she ran. Bare feet pushing against uneven terrain, relentless grey stone to where her clothes lay in a misshapen pool of fabric. She donned them swiftly. Without thought. Everything had been done without thought, she realized. Looking back. And she had wasted her time. Tanroa's time. The fleeting, seasonal power of her mark...

[Accolade]

Aello


Lores

•	Lore Earned
•	Entering the antechamber of the present
•	To test ones mark - understanding the flow between worlds
•	A blink and a wast of time

Notes :

Very good read. Hope you're enjoying the gnosis.

The Sylir has spoken

If you have any questions or concerns regarding your grade, please send me a PM and we can figure it out.