Quest [The Cytali] I Call You Back To Me

[Gossamer]

Timestamp: 20th of Winter, 513 AV

There was an ethereal quality to the night. Snow hung heavy on the land quieting even the distant cries of the predators on the Sea of Grass. While for most Winter was a time of hunger and survival, for the big creatures - the predators - on the grass, it was a time of feasting. They rejoiced when Morwen walked then lands and left her city to its unique summer. All things in the world were relative like that, dependent upon perspective and dependent upon which side you drew the line.

This night, while different than no other night, was a decisive one. The Dreamlord decided it was time to call his children home. Events in the past few days had seen the mortal enemies of the Gods on the move again, and without his driven warriors, Nysel could take no active role. And while his realm was often considered passive, Nysel was not one to stand on the sidelines. He summoned his most faithful. And when she materialized before him, he turned and gestured. The slumbering city of Riverfall materialized out of the mists of dreams, glittering in the effervescent space he dominated in the Ukalas. The scene changed, showing the city gates and the road leading north. Like a bird flying over the land, the Dreamlord surveyed the landscape, laying it out in glittering three dimensions for his most trusted to observe.

"There." He said, gesturing to the fortress perched on the stone cliff overlooking the sea. "The new headquarters of the Cytali is almost done. Isn't it about time we called our faithful home?" He asked. The woman nodded.

The woman with the burning pink hair nodded. She unslung her guitar and ran her fingers over the strings making some minor adjustments. Then she turned, offered her lord a smile, and strummed a single note. The woman vanished in a small flare of glittery ethereal light and was gone. Nysel turned back to the image he'd built. He walked over to it, and then stood among it, opening himself to the dreams of all those within. With a single spoken phrase, a softly spoken vocalization of power, he clearly injected into each and every one of their consciousness'... "Wake up. It's time to dream..."

Trelissa materialized in the newly completed pool area of The Sanctuary. It had been turned into an ice rink for the upcoming wedding. She set her guitar carefully aside on one of the benches overlooking the pool and materialized a set of skates out of the thin air. Strapping them onto her well worn black boots, she stepped out onto the ice and began to skate.

Anyone looking would find her there, a strange stranger among those that did not quite fit in themselves. The lean girl could skate like an Avanthalian, but had the look of a Drykas about her. A shock of hot pink hair bobbed around her ears and her clothing were equally out of place. She wore leggings that glittered like someone had captured stars in them, and a huge white oversized sweater completed her outfit. White boots with metal skates strapped to them enabled her to glide across the frozen surface.

She looked like she was having fun.

[Vanator]

Deep was the sleep Vanator found that night. The day had been exhausting and cold, and slumber had taken the Denusk early in the arms of Sybel. In that late hour, Vanator was submerged in a dream. The nightmares spurred by Zith horrors had waned in the past year, as had the sorrowful dreams of his family, stolen night after night by the djed storm. This dream was the sort that drew from mundane tasks of the day, small events woven with some distant, insignificant memory to concoct a story that was bizarre but engrossing at the time, and almost impossible to explain upon waking.

Van was riding a Zibri, one called Hammer that had belonged to the Denusk pavillion, but, in the dream, the bullock was as fast as a Strider. Vanator carried Kashik's spear, but it was three times as long and unwieldy. Eventually, the butt caught on a rock and ripped it from his grip, to cartwheel across the grass behind him. Looking down, all he wore was the golden torc that Sybel had given him around his neck. Suddenly, Kavala rode up next to him on Windsong, Cadra nestled up behind her in the yvas. Van's daughter reached out and offered her father a roast goat sandwich with some leafy stuff the Konti harvested from the sea. Vanator reached for the sandwich, but lost his balance, and started to slip from the racing, long-haired bull. Then a voice, commanding but charismatic, echoed across the grasslands.

"Wake up. It's time to dream..."

Vanator fell from the zibri, his eyes snapping open. He was in his suite, or , at least, it looked like his suite. The realism of the dream lingered, and the Drykas could not discern whether he was truly awake or dreamed still. The authoritative voice still echoed in his brain. Brushing unruly strands of hair from his face, Vanator slipped from the bed. there was an urge that compelled him to go up top. He recalled no pluck of the Sanctuary web to give this inclination, or call of friend or family. Sybel still slept silently in their bed.

Ephemeral fog still lingered as he tugged on wool trousers, donned a shirt and slipped into boots. Taking up his cloak and shoving a hand ax through his belt (dream or no, the man was ever wary), Vanator followed the strange lure out of the Within. Frigid winds turned, seeming to shove him towards the center of the facility, behind the clinic. Shuffling, still groggy, or asleep, he had not yet decided, Vanator made his way around to the frozen pool. An unfamiliar guitar leaned against one of Kavala's crafted stone benches. The Denusk man gave it little heed when he saw what glided across the sheen of the poo'ls solid surface.

Magic, or divinity, seemed to cling to the strange woman, as if the frozen crystals of the drifting snow had spawned her, sparkling and white and beautiful. It all seemed unreal, and Vanator wondered if Morwen herself had made a midnight visit to the Sanctuary. For all her wonderful strangeness, the woman seemed to be obliviously enjoying herself, skillfully skating around the small pond. Van found his steps inching towards the pools edge, eyes fixed, or transfixed, on the amazing sight.

[Sybel]

’You look beautiful,’ she said in the way of dreams, curiously without sound. Kavala smiled, all her golden hair a halo and her cornflower eyes, vast and without pupils, like the great Suvan Sea. She became to grow larger and larger, tears pooling at the corners of her eyes. The great mass of her tummy distended to unhealthy proportion. Sybel suddenly felt fear. She looked from side to side, for something – anything – to stop her from growing. ’Help me,’ Kavala said, doubled over in pain, her fingernails gone red – or was that blood? Desperately, Sybel turned and…

"Wake up. It's time to dream..."

Her eyes flew open. The woman tried to steady her breathing, steaming in the wintry air. Propping herself up, she turned to see Vanator had already gone. Perhaps he was in the privy, having woken in the middle of the night. But didn’t something wake her? Was it his getting out of bed? She unstuck the sweat-soaked strands of hair from her forehead and began to look for her clothes. Maybe a walk would help clear her mind.

As she dressed, she tried to mull it all over. The dream still had her unsettled, but why she couldn’t say. Kavala wasn’t pregnant anymore. She’d had the baby just fine. But she had been crippled by the inability to help her. Dreams of weakness had once haunted her before, but that was as a child. Once she’d avenged her Father, they plagued her no longer, replaced with more sinister, more horrible things instead.

Perhaps this was the curse of family. She smiled weakly at the thought. Pulling on her linen blouse and simple cloth pants, she floated along, led by the nose, unable to determine the hand that guided her. Perhaps fate had taken her that night, or perhaps, it was something more. For security, she slipped the lovely new staff she’d earned from Beautyfest and strapped it securely to her back.

When she stopped, she was drawn in by the image of Vanator, touched by moonlight. But slowly, her gaze was drawn over to the woman skating, just as his had been. She approached on soft feet so as not to startle him. It wouldn’t do either of them any good if they interrupted the clearly ethereal being.

Was this divine? She looked over at the rose haired girl in wonder. She seemed content to glide over the ice, dancing on the rink they'd prepared for her wedding day. Sybel smiled dreamily.

[Caelum]

Steady heat thrummed in his chest. It began as a tiny kernel and grew to smoldering ember before finally flowering to flame. He rolled over in his sleep, knees drawing up, head ducking like a bird beneath wings he did not have; and he attempted to curl himself around the hot little light flickering merrily inside of him. He had witnessed too many such lights go out, snuffed with a pinch of fate’s fingers or merely fading with time and lack of care. His dream spilled around the borders of a past life, one farther back than the Drykas Ankal Kasb’el whose form was remembered in him every night. A woman stood on the pitching deck of a ship with a sky full of storms behind her, an elegant longbow in her hands and a flaming arrow notched and drawn. A gold shining gnosis mark radiated out from around her left eye, telling tales of sunshine on this dark night. That eye squinted and the wind blew black hair against the hollow of her cheek. She let the arrow fly, a comet streaking over the waters before it caught the sails of the enemy brigantine. A man with fire in his hair stood beside her and grabbed her arm while whispering a string of words. While they watched, the brigantine exploded into flames, the sound loud as thunder talking to the moon. Wake up. It’s time to dream… Caelum’s eyes flew open and the heat in his chest did not subside. The unmistakable summon of a god only fanned it brighter, kicking his heart up to a gallop. How many times had he listened to the voices of a god or goddess? How many lives had he spent spinning to their songs? He knew Nysel when he heard him. The dream god’s voice was as familiar as the bright trill of Syna. The unspeakable language reverberated through him and he smiled slow and wide. It was time. Caelum rolled out of bed and climbed into clothes, worn leather riding pants and a long sleeved tunic. He stomped into boots and sheathed a dagger in either one before swinging his split coat on over it all, hands spilling down the interior pockets to make sure all of the little herb packets, the suture kit, the bit of twine, and all the other odds and ends the healer in him always seemed to need were present. The clothes were a little big on him, but all of his clothes were when he wore the windmarks and heavy-braided hair of the Drykas. His ethaefal form was taller, a bit wider of shoulder, longer of limb; but he was still graceful, his strides eating up the earth as he moved through the Below with certainty in his steps. Once above, he sucked in a lungful of cold air and looked to the east automatically, some instinctive piece of him forever looking for the rising sun. His smile loitered and he stuck his tongue into his cheek before turning like a compass needle gently flicked by the finger of one of his gods. He ducked his head and made his way steadily through the night to the pool, but he drew short upon seeing the figures of Vanator and Sybel and the glimmering, pink haired skater on the ice. He shifted his weight, thoughtful, and then he turned again, steps faster now. A short chime later, Caelum re-emerged, several sets of skate blades, the kind you tied onto your existing boots, dangling from both hands. All but one set he tossed to the ground at the feet of his friends before dropping to a seat on the bench. “Nice night, eh?” He flashed Vanator and Sybel a grin, startlingly bright, and strapped his boots into the skates. That accomplished, he stepped onto the ice, summoning up all of the lessons about balance and grace horse riding and unarmed combat had taught him. “Hello!” He called to Trelissa, though he did not yet remember her name. He was going to find it out, however, wasn’t he? And they were all going to see what Nysel had in store for them.

[Gossamer]

The skate blades made a metallic clank as Caelum tossed them down on the snow at the edge of the pool. Trelissa seemingly ignored all three of them as she spun a circle and tucked her arms into her body before extending them outward, increasing the spin. To her, they weren't there because gawkers had no interest to the Dreamer. Those that were engaging, vocal, and were far more appealing.

So when Caelum strapped on the skates and took to the ice, the hot pink haired woman offered him a grin and a wave as he joined her. As it turned out, horse riding and unarmed combat had very little to do with ice skating as the eth wobbled across the ice, his skates slick under him. The musician, however didn't seem too tripped up by the skates. She glided along gracefully, performing an arabesque and then coming down into a sit spin that lasted for a few moments. The woman oozed confidence and offered Caelum a return greeting as she glided by where the eth struggled to keep his feet on the slick ice.

"Beautiful night for a skate isn't it? I'm Trelissa." She asked, circling around him. "But it looks like you are struggling there. Would you like me to make it a bit easier for you"?" The woman asked, shifting into a crouch and then turning sideways, pointing her feet out, and slowly turning another arch in a spread eagle that kept her body on the same turn line. It was an elegant move that showed off her grace and strength.

If Caelum answered in the affirmative, both him and Trelissa would abruptly vanish to the onlookers that stood watching. Vanator and Sybel would see no one else on the ice. Where Cealum and the stranger had skated, nothing but abruptly ending skate lines could be seen.

On Caelum's part, The Sanctuary vanished and an endless field of ice shrouded in a one-hundred and eighty degree field of epic stars were visible. The sky was breathtakingly beautiful. Leth was in full view and there was not a single color absent from the wheeling constellations overhead. Trelissa was laughing, and spun by him, preforming a complete and perfect I-spin.

On Caelum's part, the awkwardness, the lack of ankle strength skaters developed over years and years on the ice suddenly vanished. He was strong, powerful, and he knew how to skate. The ice gleamed under him beckoning, and his body suddenly didn't feel bound by the constraints of gravity or musculature.

Vanator and Sybel were left standing alone, the only movement in the night was the clouds of breath pouring out of them with each long drawn out breath.

[Vanator]

Vanator was still standing at the edge of the frozen pool when Sybel quietly appeared beside him. The skater had continued without acknowledging them, and Van's brain, every noisy with analyzing, strained to explain the strange sight. He had discerned that he was no longer asleep, as he had questioned at first. The bite of the winter cold seemed too sharp for a dream. Then, who was the girl? Had a new guest arrived? The powerful voice that had awakened him from sleep still echoed softly in the Dryka's head. "Wake up. It's time to dream..."

No words of explanation were offered to Sybel, just a quizzical glance, the Benshiran apparently as perplexed as he. Caelum appeared next, his Drykas form seemingly less confused by the whimsical skater, a twinkle in the Eth's eye as he turned and jogged off. Vanator shrugged and turned, striding around the edge of the pool, eyes fixed on the vibrant-haired woman. Caelum soon returned, skates in hand, excited and seemingly unfazed by the odd encounter. The Eth donned his skates and wobbled out onto the ice.

Caelum had dropped more skates by Sybel, and Vanator returned to her side as Caelum made his way to the center of the ice. Van bent down to pick up a pair of the strap on skates. He was not used to ice skating, but seeing Caelum and the woman urged him to give it a try. Before he could make it to the bench to strap on the skates. Both Caelum and the mysterious woman disappeared.

The skates fell from his hands, jaw agape as Vanator stared at the empty pond, then back at Sybel. Van dashed out onto the ice, skateless, feet slipping willy-nilly as he made his way to the last spot he saw the skaters. There was no sound of cracking ice, no telltale hole they could have slipped through, they were just gone. He was still dreaming, he had to be. Vanator looked back to Sybel, part of him wondering if she too would be gone.

[Sybel]

At the offer of skates, she quickly obliged, grabbing them up from the ground where he’d tossed them. Sybel went to strap them to the bottom of her boots, slowing only slightly when she considered that she’d never really skated before. It was going to be an awkward experience, but she didn’t mind; it looked as if the rose-haired woman was having quite a bit of fun, especially with the introduction of Caelum onto the rink.

But suddenly, they were done! Just as she finished strapping on one of the blades, she glanced up the sight of Vanator wobbling onto the ice, going off to investigate the empty pond. Hurrying up, she picked up the second blade and quickly fastened it, trying her best not to slip and slice into her hand. In a few moments, she was set to join him. The man seemed to look back at her with a mixed expression.

Sybel was atrocious at skating, though she could get by. Ankles wobbling, she slid in an awkward fashion across the glistening surface, moving to join her husband-to-be. ”Where did they go?” She asked softly, breath misting into the air. ”What’s going on, I wonder?” She said to no one in particular.

With a small shrug, she tried her hand at actually skating. It was really difficult. She very nearly veered off into the snow several different times.

[Caelum]

Ice skating, it turned out, was unlike anything Caelum had ever done before. He considered himself to be reasonably athletic and a lifetime of travel and labor had left him strong and in good shape. Syna's grace further imbued him with disgustingly good health and there wasn't a disease on Mizahar that thought him worth the fight. Nonetheless, for all his easy grace on land and horseback, trying to stay upright while slip sliding on ice was proving incredibly difficult. His arms wheeled a time or two, catching balance like the wind in the crooks of his elbows, and as he made snail's pace progress toward Trelissa he began to wonder what caused anyone to think skating fun. "Caelum," he introduced himself on the heels of her own introduction. A smile flashed, more than a little wry, "It is a beautiful night," he agreed and wobbled, knees bending slightly as he tried to keep from falling flat on his face. That would be rather embarrassing. He cast a glance back toward Vanator and Sybel, dark eyes lingering before returning their regard to Trelissa. "Have we met before, Trelissa? In a time I don't recall?" His smile shifted, private. There were a great many hours beyond his memory. "Yes," he answered with certainty when Trelissa asked if he wanted her to make things easier on him. Didn't he just? A chuckle rumbled through his chest as he watched her athletic grace whirl around him and between two beats of his heart the Sanctuary disappeared like smoke in the grip of Zulrav, dispersed across the sky. He swung around and his skates cut against the ice, arms going out in automatic gesture even his eyes cast themselves through the unending distance that now surrounded. His breath, held tight in his chest when the world shifted around him, was expelled in a crystalline cloud. Knowledge flushed through him, and exhilaration followed. His ankles felt strong and the ice was clean and sprawling toward the fours corners of the world around him. He pushed off in a swift slick of speed, skates crisscrossing even as his eyes flicked up, absorbing the colorful array of stars collected above him. Without warning, he performed sharp, tight spin that sent him careening in a different direction. He was tracing a constellation above with his path, sketching in onto the ice with the cut of his skates. There was a second spin, this one letting him fly, and he landed with all of the perfection of a lifetime Avanthal skater. "Where did Vanator and Sybel go?" He called his question out to Trelissa, voice echoing against the spread of the night. "Have we crossed into the Chavena, Trelissa?" He was a damnably curious sort.

[Gossamer]

When Vanator ran out onto the ice sans his skates, there was a cold wind blowing. It tasted funny in his lungs, like mint and magic, but gave no other sign as to where Caelum and the strange visitor had gone. He hadn’t as much trouble standing on the bare ice as some of those had trying to skate on it for the first time. It held his weight without any issue. But still there was nothing for him to see, nothing besides Sybel strapping on her skates and braving the ice.

Sybel’s questions echoed onto the empty ice leaving only Vanator to answer if he choose to. Otherwise, she struggled across the ice like a baby foal trying to find its feet in the first few minutes of birth. One wouldn’t call her motions skating, but she did eventually skid across the ice without falling. With a pause at Vanator, she was off again, skating around much like Caelum was doing a moment ago.

Vanator blinked and she was gone. One heartbeat she was there, then in another instant she was gone. Sybel didn’t really notice the transition until the sky was flooded with a thousand vivid stars and the ice stretched out forever. Caelum was suddenly visible, so too was Trelissa. They were laughing and skating around each other like they’d been on the ice forever. Sybel felt the change in her skill immediately. She’d stopped wobbling, her ankles had straightened up and held her weight on the narrow blades, and suddenly she was able to move just as Caelum and Trelissa was. If she wanted too, she could join them where they skated close together, seemingly talking.

Skating side by side with Caelum, almost in tandem, Trelissa offered him a smile and nodded. “We are in the Ukalas, in Nysel's realm. Is there anyplace else you’d feel so free? So at home, Ethaefal?” The punk haired woman said, smiling brightly and executing a turn with Caelum in synch. When Sybel appeared, Trelissa nodded to her and threw up a hand to wave in greeting. “Sybel’s here. Vanator is just being a bit more stubborn. It was always his way.” The woman said, executing another turn.

“Are you ready for your challenge? All we need is for him to get here. I suppose he’ll be a long shortly, but until then we might as well enjoy the Nysel granted leisure time.” Trelissa grinned, encouraging Caelum and Sybel to skate further, and push their new found abilities further.

[Vanator]

”Where did they go? What’s going on, I wonder?”


"I don't know..." Vanator breathed out almost to himself, the vapor of his breath dissipating almost immediately. He saw no indication of anything out of the ordinary, other than the fact that the strange skater and Caelum were definitely gone. He turned to look at Sybel as she made her way across the ice, coltish legs skittering to keep her upright, though even as she passed by him, the Benshiran seemed to be gaining stability.

Then she, too, was gone.

"What the petch?" Van sputtered. He spun around, almost losing his balance on the ice. Gone, all of them. He was still dreaming, he had to be. But the cold was so sharp, the air in his lungs so biting, it was hard to believe he was sleeping. "Sybel...Cael!?" Van called out, the sound of his voice so lonely he immediately quieted. A frustrated grunt rumbled in his throat as no reply came back.

Eyes strained in the cold light for clues. Then Vanator's gaze fell on the last pair of skates sitting at the pool's edge. A thought crossed his mind. No, that is just silly. But he was out of explanations, the chill that raked his spine more supernatural than cold. Carefully, Van made his way back out of the frozen pool, snatching up the skates and sitting on the bench to strap them to his boots.

Once the ice skates were secure, Van sighed, then stood to his feet, high stepping to the ice. He was no more graceful than Sybel, his movement more of a wide stance with tiny foot motion to get him sliding along the ice. Van focused on balance, trying to bring his feet together and attempt the manner of movement he had seen Caelum and the girl use.