Completed [Cliffside Grotto] A Flower of an Idea

[Kirsi Winterflame]

Timestamp: 14th of Summer, 513AV The bazaar had been wonderful; a colorful, chaotic distraction filled with tempting luxuries. Kirsi smiled wryly and chuckled to herself. Already she was feeling the slightest pang of buyer's remorse - there were better, more necessary things to have spent her mizas on. Still, she considered, if carving is to be my goal, surely the tools to better my craft are a worthy investment. Well satisfied with her own logic, she had purchased new tools, as well as several sheets of paper and charcoal, leaving both herself and the vendor happier for it. Having no real plan for her day, Kirsi found herself wandering Riverfall rather aimlessly. When her footsteps led her to one of the city's beautiful parks, the urge to investigate was too strong to resist. The first steps into the Grotto enchanted her. The sheer number of blooms, all in full summer glory, dazzled her senses. Kirsi was well used to the icy appeal of Avanthal; sparkling sculptures that reflected tiny rainbows of light from the sun. The flowers of Riverfall were an other-worldy beauty by comparison - as if the sight wasn't enough bounty, the sweet and spicy scents in the air were nearly overwhelming. Inspired by the unfamiliar, Kirsi put her new purchases to use and began to translate what she saw with her eyes into a form she could coax from wood. The charcoal sticks were not designed for delicate floral artistry, she soon discovered. Her best attempts left her with nothing more than wasted paper and mounting frustrations. More than a bit disappointed in herself, Kirsi put away her tools and continued her stroll, making a mental note to return to the bazaar for proper tools - soon.

[Jorin Ertihan]

Season of Summer, Day 14, 513 AV

The boss is going to tan my hide! Jorin thought as he rushed through the Cliffside Grotto. The stage master of the Traveling Thespians theater troupe was a harsh master sometimes, and Jorin knew he'd feel the lash of the man's tongue if he was late for practice again. He'd lost track of time, walking through the beauty of the park, trying to come up with a decent poem to describe the wonders he saw. But now, he realized he had maybe two chimes to get where he was going.

"Ouf!"

He had collided with a golden-skinned, black-haired woman, and nearly bowled her over. He immediately set to work trying to right her.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" he cried, scrambling to pick up her dropped charcoal sticks and paper. "I should have watched where I was going. I'm just in a hurry ... here let me get those!"

That was when he noticed her eyes, which seemed to shimmer and change color. A Vantha! Surely she was, those were the only people he knew of whose eyes could shift like that! He smiled and offered her a hand.

"My name is Jorin Ertihan," he said by way of introduction. "Once again I apologize for our collision. I act for the Traveling Thespians traveling troupe! From the dusty halls of Zeltiva to the imposing walls of Syliras we have traveled, and I believe they may have even spent a few seasons in Avanthal! Though sadly I was not present when they did."

He bowed low, a fancy motion that was perhaps overly theatrical, but he seemed to have a lot of fun doing it. "So tell me," he said, grinning, "what's a Vantha doing so far from home?"

[Kirsi Winterflame]

Timestamp: 14th of Summer, 513AV "Mmph!" One moment she'd been admiring a particularly lovely bloom, the next she found herself desperately grasping the railing to avoid toppling headlong into it. Faced with the choice between keeping her feet or keeping ahold of her supplies, the supplies, sadly, lost. Charcoal and paper tumbled to the ground. Looking askance at the man as he stumbled over himself to pick up the items, apologizing the while, she couldn't help but return his friendly smile. "It's, um... No, its fine, thank you. No harm done. Thanks," Kirsi reached awkwardly for her art supplies. Lightly, she shook his hand, taking a few seconds to let his words rush around her. "Its a pleasure," here her voice lilted upwards, turning the statement into the smallest of questions, "to meet you. I'm Kirsi. Winterflame." Her eyes widened in surprise as the man, Jorin, the actor? suddenly dipped low into a formal bow. Chuckling at his obvious enjoyment of the flashy move, she nodded at his comment. "I am Vantha, yes. Is it that obvious?" she shook her head slightly. "And I'm afraid my reasons for travel aren't nearly as lofty as yours. I just felt like traveling, and this seemed as likely a place as any," she gave a delicate shrug, it was probably better not to go into all the cultural reasons for her wanderings. Besides, her common was only passably decent; she didn't think she could have properly explained even if she had been so inclined. "But you were in a hurry? May I ask what it is that...propels you so?" Kirsi asked, with just a hint of teasing in her voice and a shimmering violet amusement in her eyes.

[Jorin Ertihan]

Season of Summer, Day 14, 513 AV

Jorin was grateful the girl was so gracious. He'd met his share of angry women whose verbal lashings were nearly as sharp as those of his stage master. He shuddered at those memories. But this girl was much nicer, quickly forgiving him and telling him her name. Kirsi Winterflame, apparently. According to her, she just wanted to travel. Jorin grinned. He couldn't argue with that!

"But you were in a hurry? May I ask what it is that...propels you so?"

Jorin smiled back, seeing the teasing look in her eyes and the swirl of color. Fascinating! He'd heard of Vantha eyes before, how they changed colors with their moods, but he'd never actually seen it happen before. Realizing he must have been staring rather rudely, he coughed and nodded.

"Right! Um, well you see I'm actually late to my practice with my troupe. I just know my stage master will ... oh petch!" Jorin squinted at the sun, then held up his thumb to the horizon. Biting on his tongue, squeezing his left eye shut and doing some quick calculations, he realized it was too late already. Even at top speed, he'd already be late.

Sighing resignedly, he just threw his hands up.

"Oh forget it," he moaned, leaning against a nearby railing. "In for a copper, in for a gold, I suppose. I'm already late, so what's a few more Bells?"

He sighed and looked up at the beautiful blooms all around him. Smiling, he decided he might as well compose something, now that he was here. Taking out a quill, some ink, and one of his books, he opened to a blank page, and tapped the quill to his chin. His green eyes drank in the sight, and after a moment, the quill started flying. Shortly after that, he decided to read his creation.

"The rainbow comes to Riverfall
In shades of blue and green
Here stands a maiden of Avanthal
Amidst its wondrous scene

In her eyes the rainbow shines
A prism of lovely light
Forever captured in immortal lines
They glow eternally bright

Though summer fades and winter falls
And little of green remain
Yet within these blossom rainbow walls
Stands Kirsi Winterflame."

Jorin was silent for a moment, then gave Kirsi a small, hesitant smile.

"I know it probably doesn't compare to the beauty you must have heard in Avanthal," he explained. "But I have heard the Vantha like songs and stories and poems. It's the least I could do in apology for knocking over your things. It can't quite compare to the beauty of this place, but I hope you will accept it anyway."

[Kirsi Winterflame]

Timestamp: 14th of Summer, 513AV Kirsi shifted a bit under Jorin's unwavering gaze, mildly relieved when he coughed and launched into his explanation. Watching him gauge the time, squinting at his thumb against the horizon, she barely managed to stifle a chuckle. Apparently every action was an exercise in theatrics for the man. It was an interesting personality trait and reminded Kirsi vaguely of Avanthal. Oftentimes storytelling back in her homeland was accompanied by wild gesticulations and dramatic effect. "Your stage master will be angry," she nodded at him sympathetically. "You could always tell him you happened on a hysterical female, frightened and weeping, and felt compelled to lend a hand?" Kirsi looked at him with what she hoped was well-feigned innocence, and then ruined the effect entirely with an impish grin. "In for a copper, in for a gold, I suppose. I'm already late, so what's a few more Bells?" Kirsi watched the transformation, as the sense of urgency seemed to leave the actor and he took out his writing tools. Putting quill to paper, his hand fairly raced across the page and in only moments, he had completed his... Whatever it was. When he began to recite what he had written, Kirsi smiled in delight. "I know it probably doesn't compare to the beauty you must have heard in Avanthal, but I have heard the Vantha like songs and stories and poems. It's the least I could do in apology for knocking over your things. It can't quite compare to the beauty of this place, but I hope you will accept it anyway." "It was lovely," Kirsi assured him, clapping softly. She was unused to hearing poetry spoken in languages other than Vani, and the novelty only added to the charm of the piece. "A perfect apology, though none was needed. An actor and a poet, both, then?" A wistful smile graced her lips and her eyes lost some of their sparkling color. While many of her people were gifted storytellers, possessed of a fine dramatic flair, that talent had never manifested itself in Kirsi. Although she had often wished otherwise. Instead, she had learned to appreciate the verbal gifts of others. It was nearly as satisfying.

[Jorin Ertihan]

Season of Summer, Day 14, 513 AV

"A perfect apology, though none was needed. An actor and a poet, both, then?"

Jorin chuckled good-naturedly, as he tossed her a smile of his own.

"Well, barely an actor," he confessed. "I just got promoted last season. Before that I was just a stage hand and understudy. Still, it's wonderful striding across that stage, every eye in the audience upon you, every ear straining to hear what I have to say. Quite ... magical, in its own way. As for poet, well." Jorin grinned sheepishly. "I do what I can, I suppose. We actors don't get a lot of time to ourselves, so my poetry sometimes just tumbles out at inopportune moments. But I suppose some good comes of it!"

Jorin nodded to the charcoal and paper.

"So you draw?" he asked. "My mother used to paint a great deal, and she drew a bit as well. She tried to teach me, but I was ... resistant. At least I remembered her lessons on poetry and composition better. But if I remembered, she told me once that charcoal wasn't the best medium for drawing. Would you like to borrow a quill and some ink, perhaps?"

As he spoke, Jorin offered the implements he'd just used to compose the poem he recited to the Vantha girl.

[Kirsi Winterflame]

Timestamp: 14th of Summer, 513AV Listening to Jorin describe the stage, Kirsi couldn't prevent herself from shaking her head slightly - it was one thing to watch as other people brought new worlds to life. It was quite another to be the one doing the bringing. "Newly promoted? Congratulations, then - how lucky to have found success in what you enjoy." "So you draw?" Kirsi nodded at his question, "I draw, yes. In truth, I can't lay claim to any large talent at it. What I draw on paper doesn't stand as art on its own - it serves as reference for my carvings," she explained, her face animated as she discussed her true passion. "I have mostly worked with figures of animals, and people. These flowers," she narrowed her eyes, studying the blooms she'd attempted to capture on paper, "I have yet to master them." "...she told me once that charcoal wasn't the best medium for drawing. Would you like to borrow a quill and some ink, perhaps?" Without thinking, Kirsi surprised herself by accepting his offer. "Actually - yes, thank you," Jorin's kindness would mean not having to put off for another day the sketches she had hoped to make. Reaching out to grasp the proffered tools with a nod of gratitude, she continued, "your mother was absolutely right. Charcoal, I'm sure, has its place in the artistic world, but that place is not in my hand." Tilting her head curiously, she found herself wondering how Jorin had come by his love of acting. In Avanthal, it was absorbed by even the youngest almost from birth. If you spoke, you were expected to do so with brilliant imagery and conviction. She didn't think other cultures placed as much importance on entertainment. Debating only a moment or two, Kirsi decided to simply ask, "Was it your mother, too, who encouraged your acting career?"

[Jorin Ertihan]

Season of Summer, Day 14, 513 AV

"Was it your mother, too, who encouraged your acting career?"

Jorin shrugged. "In a manner of speaking," he said. "Although I swear, there must have been some Vantha blood in my family, at least on my mother's side. She was a painter, a true artist. She taught me to see. Said that beauty was everywhere, if you just cared to look. Not just in lovely blossoms, and breathtaking vistas, but in something as simple as a rock in the river, a blade of grass, a cloud in the sky. She told me all things have a story. You just have to be willing to hear it."

Jorin grinned. "And yes, Kirsi, before you ask, I have been told that I should have been born in Avanthal." He did not say it with any degree of malice or anger, more with wry amusement, as though he didn't see how being born in a different city would have changed who he was. "But Zeltiva was a wonderful city, if a bit stuffy. The City of Scholars. As for my own love of acting, it came when the Traveling Thespians appeared in Zeltiva for their show. They were so colorful, so bright and happy, and I desperately wanted to be a part of it. Although I'll admit, I didn't realize how much work goes on behind the scenes!"

Jorin glanced back at the blossoms that Kirsi was sketching. They certainly were lovely, but she mentioned that she carved. He'd never learned to do anything like that, so his eyes burned with curiosity.

"So you carve? That's wonderful! I've heard some say that the carving was always in the wood; the carver just brings it out. So do you have any favorite subjects?"

[Kirsi Winterflame]

Timestamp: 14th of Summer, 513AV Smoothing one of her wrinkled sheets of paper, Kirsi took another long look at the flowers in front of her. Listening to Jorin, she began to draw the basic lines she saw. The bloom composition was rather simplistic, really - it was the details that had been getting lost in her charcoal translation. With the quill, she was able to capture the ridged and ruffled edges edges of the petals, the delicate lines radiating from the center. Satisfied, for the time being, she turned her attention back to the conversation. "...there must have been some Vantha blood in my family, at least on my mother's side." "She certainly sounds like a Vantha," Kirsi agreed, critically eying her work. "My people can mostly find something noteworthy or entertaining about the tiniest thing. I'm not sure its a learned thing. Or if it is, too many people seem unable to do so. But then, if more were able, it would not be such a sought after skill." Listening to his description of Zeltiva, Kirsi crinkled her nose. It was one of the cities she had carefully considered before leaving Avanthal - to hear it described as "stuffy" reinforced her decision to relocate to Riverfall. Jorin's eyes sparkled as he told of his troupe, though. It was clear that he felt as passionate about his Troupe as she felt about her carving. "I think that happens with every craft - people are distracted by the flashy end result, and forget about what it took to make it happen. I remember when I was little, and first began carving," she couldn't help but grin at the memory. "I was about 7, I think, and had just seen a fishing party from my village returning with their catch. I ran home, convinced that I could perfectly recreate the sight, right down to the scales and glassy stares of the fish," Kirsi paused, seeing in her mind the stubborn younger version of herself. "Needless to say, when 10 seconds had passed and I did not have a perfectly turned fish - or even something that hinted at it - I threw all the tools and the wood into the snow. Swore I would never carve again. But I feel about carving the way you feel about performing." Kirsi shrugged matter of factly. "So do you have any favorite subjects?" Adding a few more lines to her flower, she gave it up as 'finished enough' and turned it around with her own mini-flourish, to show Jorin the finished product. "I carve animals, mostly. I came here today thinking that I might branch out a bit. Clearly I brought the wrong tools; your quill has saved the day," she said, handing Jorin's supplies back to him. "This is not art. But it will serve as reference when I try to carve it later. Many do say that its up to the artist to bring out what is already in the wood, you're correct." It was a common sentiment and she wasn't surprised Jorin had heard this theory. "I think I agree, somewhat." Here she stopped, searching her mind for the right words to describe thoughts she rarely tried to verbalize. "It isn't just a carver's will that makes the carving. Inside the wood is an idea. When I carve, I have to make my idea and the wood's idea combine," she finished lamely. It wasn't quite what she wanted to express, but until her Common got better, it was the best she could do.

[Jorin Ertihan]

Season of Summer, Day 14, 513 AV

Jorin seemed very happy when Kirsi confirmed that her people were appreciative of beauty in all things. He'd only met a few Vantha in his time, but they were always so artistic, so creative, so imaginative! And even though he could not count himself among their number he'd always felt a connection to their appreciation for beauty and the arts.

Jorin nodded sympathetically when Kirsi told her story about when she was younger. He'd had a similar experience in the troupe; it was why it took him five years of being an understudy to become an actor. He was unprepared for the mental rigor necessary; the memorization of lines, proper following of stage directions, understanding how to emote so as to convey an emotion even on the limited platform of the stage.

Jorin smiled when Kirsi showed him her finished product. It wasn't fancy, but it was simple, and elegant, and captured all the details that were necessary to the essential nature of the blossom.

"It isn't just a carver's will that makes the carving. Inside the wood is an idea. When I carve, I have to make my idea and the wood's idea combine," Kirsi was saying. Jorin nodded.

"There's an essential nature to the subject, that the carver tries to bring out, yes? Not just what you see, but how you see it. Art isn't about straight imitation; art is about showing what can't be seen with the naked eye. When you carve a horse, you don't just want to show the horse, you want to show the strength in its flanks, the speed of its gallop, the wild, untamed nature of it spirit."

Glancing back at the actual blossoms, Jorin continued. "It's something similar to what I do in the troupe. A play is not just a story on legs, it's history, brought back to life. As long as an audience is willing to watch and listen, it would be like the kings and wizards of old have never died. And for those plays where the plot is fiction, it brings life to those characters, make them sing and dance and cry and breathe, even if it is only for a Bell."

Jorin nodded at Kirsi's drawing. "Are you planning on carving that here? If so, do you mind if I watch? I've never seen someone carve before..."