Flashback Solitary Raindrops

[Ianthe]

Solitary Raindrops Timestamp: 19th Day of Spring, 509 AV Location: Silver Lake Ianthe clenched her fists tightly to her sides as she stood glaring into the Silver Lake's reflective waters. Her lower lip quivered with emotion, and each breath ran ragged. All of the confidence, all of the composure that she had worked so hard to build was crumbling around her like a broken sandcastle. Children aren't supposed to be this hard. She dug her nails into the folds of her palms until she could feel the sting. Loving someone isn't supposed to be this hard... The grey day and the clouded skies did not do much for her sullen mood. Ianthe exhaled a long breath of crisp spring air and shrugged her white cloak closer to ward off the cold. The chill breeze was a reminder that Konti Isle had just barely left winter behind. No branches were blooming and no songs were sung - it was, after all, still early enough that the seasonal birds were just now returning from their yearly migration. Ianthe took another shaky breath and closed her eyes, trying to find her center. Inhale peace, exhale stress. One successful breath, and then another. But memories of her daughter's cries soon broke in, resulting in Ianthe flashing her eyes open and gritting her teeth with frustration. Was there no peace to be found anywhere? That child was going to be the death of her. She bent to pick up a stray stone and threw it irritably at the water, intending to skip it across the surface. The stone immediately sank with a loud plop. Perfect. Ianthe unclenched her fists with a resigned sigh and glanced up at a lone raincloud. "I know you're testing me," she said loudly, directing her words at the Ukalas above. "I just wish... I just wish I had known what to study." After a moment of silent contemplation, she smoothed her skirts and looked around at her surroundings. She had stopped at the western edge of the lake near a smooth grey rock that was both flat enough and high enough for sitting, as if it had been placed there by the gods solely for that purpose. That'll do. She pulled her clothes up to her knees and clambered on to the rock, shifting her body so she faced the lake. After a tick of fussing with her dress so it fell comfortably around her legs, Ianthe settled into a familiar cross-legged position. Back straight, hands on knees, palms facing the sky. If she couldn't change her situation, then perhaps she could regain some semblance of perspective through a bell of focused meditation.

[Ianthe]

Breathe in. Breathe out. Ianthe closed her eyes and drew her focus internally, expelling all knowledge of the lake and the wind and the trees as best she could. One breath in. One breath out. She nestled into the not-yet-quiet darkness, all too aware of the words and images that continued to well up inside of her. Anger. Frustration. Regret. Joy. Guilt. Emotions had overwhelmed her mind, making it increasingly difficult to reign in her breathing and wipe her thoughts clean. Breathe - In... And out. She took her time on the inhale, drawing a long and tremulous breath in through her nose. Her chest rose, and then fell softly as the air expelled from her mouth with a siiiigh of relief. Another long inhale. Another soft exhale. And then again, each successive breath less shaky than the one before. In and out. Breathe. The rustle of leaves pulled at her, teased her, tempted her to take a peek and leave her shadowed refuge for the carnal world. A frog's croak called her by name. And the smells - fresh evergreen, waterlogged soil, a looming rain that had yet to fall. In the past, as her younger self, Ianthe might have tried to fight these temptations and, consequently, would have fallen victim to their distractions. Instead, as an older and (she hoped) wiser konti, she inhaled through her nose and acknowledged the rustling. On her exhale, she released the diversion back into the world. Again, a lingering inhale and an acknowledgement of the surrounding evergreens. On the exhale, the evergreens returned to Caiyha's realm while Ianthe remained within her own. Breathe in... and out. Slowly, as each chime passed, Ianthe found her heartbeat slowing and her breaths growing even. The minor aches that rose up from the crease of her back as a result of her stillness were treated as distractions, much like the rustling leaves - she acknowledged them with a breath, and then allowed them to release. Dark thoughts and bitter emotions still whirlpooled within her mind, but each conscious choice to focus on her breathing allowed her body to come further and further under her control. It was time to begin reconciling flesh and soul. Breathe.

[Ianthe]

As Ianthe's breathing steadied, she allowed herself to move deeper into her meditation. Her goal was to gain perspective on her current situation, and that could not be accomplished while her mind continued to spew poisonous thoughts. One of Ianthe's most deeply held beliefs was the idea that knowing one's inner self was vital to living a truly contented life. A person's mind was their sanctuary. If her sanctuary was polluted with frustration and guilt, how could she possibly succeed in any other area of her life - be it business, friendship, or (most importantly) raising a child? Ianthe inhaled slowly and began to conjure up a familiar image with which to focus on. The picture was built from the bottom up, swirling into being with help from her memories and imagination. It was a delicate orchid: long green stem, soft white petals, golden center. Her grandmother had cultivated beautiful orchids during Ianthe's childhood years, and the flower had blessed her with feelings of safety and tranquility ever since. Breathe in... Breathe out. She studied the orchid as it appeared in her mind, consuming her frustration with thoughts of the flower's unique details. Her inner eye traced the outline of the stem, admiring the rich green and wispy bend of the stem with controlled appreciation. How could something that looked so delicate hold four full-petaled flowers at its end without breaking? Nature, whether it appeared as a fiction or non-fiction, never ceased to amaze her. Ianthe's thoughts strayed, and she was reminded of the konti themselves - delicate and unique in appearance, but strong to the core. After a soft exhale, she redirected her focus back to the orchid and followed the outline of each petal with an intensity that rivalled her initial anger. Time seemed to slow, but chimes passed by all the same. As she continued to breathe steadily, the petals began to blur and then the image turned to fuzz as her mind drifted to the events that had resulted in her outburst and escape. --- "Please, please stop crying!" Ianthe's pleading went unrecognized. Her newborn, Cleodora, seemed intent on capturing the attention of all the gods; the young girl's screams reverberated throughout the small cottage. Ianthe clenched her jaw and rocked her daughter back and forth in quiet desperation. She could feel tears pooling at the corners of her eyes. "I can't do this," she whispered, squeezing her eyes tight against the coming flood. "Please... just stop crying." She set Cleodora on the small single bed with a carefulness that seemed to take all of her self-control. "I can't do this, I can't do this, I can't..." Within ticks, she had thrown on her cloak and taken the child back into her arms. One more tick had her out the door (the subsequent slam serving only to intensify Cleodora's cries) and on her way to her twin's home. The two women had long ago chosen to live in separate homes, though deep-rooted family ties and sibling love kept them from ever being too far apart. It was just a quick walk to Eudore's own cottage - several roads and a short path. Once there, Ianthe rapped repeatedly on the white wooden door and prayed that her sister was home. It didn't take long for Eudore to throw open the door with a look of panic that appropriately matched the cacophony of noise. "What's wrong?" she urged, grasping Ianthe's arm just a whit too tightly. "I- I can't do this anymore!"

[Ianthe]

Ianthe's focus slackened and her spine stiffened as she fought against the urge to open her eyes. Despite many bells of practice, she was still not skilled enough to be able to control her concentration through such a powerful flood of memories and emotions. Memories of happy days? Sure. Recollections of peaceful evenings? Most certainly. Memories involving heartache and ire? Not so much. Inhale peace, exhale stress. It took several dedicated chimes of repeating this soothing mantra before Ianthe was able to steady her breathing and return to her center. Once again, she summoned the image of a white orchid and, once again, she began to trace its outline with her inner eye. Breathe in. Green stem, long and slender. Breathe out. Pale petals clustered in delicate symmetry. Breathe in. Tiny centers as yellow as the midday sun. Breathe out... --- Ianthe felt her pulse pounding and thrust her daughter into Eudore's hands. "I can't do this anymore, Eudore!" she repeated, pushing past her sister into the neatly organized living room that lay just past the doorway. "What are you talking about?" Eudore asked, her voice rising over the still-screaming child. She rocked the young girl back and forth in her arms, and alternated between hushing the baby and furrowing her brow at her twin. It was a rare sight to see Ianthe so out of control. The experience always disturbed her. "I just- it's too much!" Ianthe paced nervously in front of a wooden sofa cushioned with violet pillows. "Having this baby, trying to raise her by myself, I just can't." Her face crumpled and she dropped to the sofa with her hands covering her eyes. "Avalis knows, I'm- I'm a terrible mother! I'm a terrible person..." Eudore had to strain to hear her sister's muffled words over her niece's quieting cries, but managed to catch the meat of her worries. "What are you talking about?" she said. "Of course you're not a terrible person. Goddess, Ianthe, it's not like there's a handbook for motherhood. Right, baby girl?" The konti cooed at her niece, who was beginning to play idly with a strand of Eudore's hair. "I know, but- but look at you! You're so good at this, and you don't even have a daughter!" Ianthe rubbed a hand roughly against her forehead. "I guess I just thought that I wouldn't have to do this alone. I thought he would be here, you know? Even after he left. Even after everything." "Look, why don't you go for a walk?" offered Eudore. "I'll watch Cleodora. You just go and clear your head. Then, whenever you're ready, come on back and we'll have a long talk over a cup of tea." Ianthe looked gratefully up at her sister. "Thanks, Dor." "Always." Eudore kissed her sister lightly on the cheek and saw her to the door. "And Ianthe?" she called out to her twin's retreating back. "You're not alone."

[Ianthe]

"Not alone." Eudore's words echoed in the darkness as Ianthe slipped out of her memories and back into a focused breathing. She felt an odd fusion of emotions rush over her - gratitude for her sister, shame at her own actions, and relief at finally having a moment to herself. As the emotions came and went, she tuned in to a tiny fluttering in her neck and turned her attention to her pulse as it rose, rose, rose, and then began to fall with each calming breath. Her fingers twitched from stagnation, but she kept all focus on her inner self as she began to work her way through a complicated knot of feeling. Breathe in. Not alone. Her twin was right, of course. But still - if she wasn't alone, then why did she feel so completely abandoned? It all seemed so ridiculous. Eudore was supposed to be the one with abandonment issues. She was the one who lashed out and refused to let anyone grow close to her (present company excluded). Ianthe had been accepting of her mother's departure and had always tried to make the best of things. But the moment Ianthe became pregnant and watched her lover walk away? All of her buried emotions came rushing to the surface. Her chest rose softly as she inhaled a deep, calming breath. Yes, it was true that countless konti raised their daughters alone. That wasn't news - Ianthe had spent her lifetime expecting to do the same. She hadn't known her own father, after all, and always wondered at the stories of humans who had grown up with two parents since birth. Still, for whatever reason, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had triggered something inside of her - love? monogamy? a realization of the difficulties involved with raising a child? - which made her long for him to have remained by her side. Ridiculous... Breathe out. The smell of rain heightened, and a single droplet of water fell on to the tip of her nose. As it rolled on to her cheek and trailed down to her lip, Ianthe watched as her white orchid image transitioned into a lone raindrop. An alone raindrop, as it were, left to its own devices. She noted the empathetic sadness that welled up within her, accepted it, and released it in her next breath. Still, her thoughts remained behind - too stubborn to be let go so quickly. What value could a single raindrop possibly have in the world? It couldn't do much more than wet her nose - and even that lasted for just a moment. A raindrop, by itself, was lost and without a purpose. It had no other raindrops to share its love with, and it certainly couldn't raise a child! Ianthe's jaw tightened, and she could feel herself about to fall out of her center. And then it began to pour.

[Ianthe]

And pour, it did. Less than a chime passed before Ianthe was soaked to the bone. It was a cold and invigorating rain that beckoned her back to the material world. A tempting call, but instead she tilted her head upward and continued to practice through the onslaught for just a few final moments. Her mind felt far more focused than it had been two bells ago, having cleared itself of everything but the raindrop. And, thanks to her practice, the foundation for her confidence was beginning to creep ever-so-slowly back into place. Inhale peace. As the rain wove itself into her hair, she reflected back on the single raindrop. One raindrop might not have any use in and of itself, but combine it with other solitary raindrops? It could create a river, a lake, a flood. It found its purpose, and it became a force to be reckoned with when surrounded by a community. Each successive thought came in rhythm with a breath, and Ianthe's forehead creased ever-so-slightly as she worked to complete the connection. If the raindrop by itself was without a purpose... (breath) but it was a power to be reckoned with as a team... (breath) and if she was like the raindrop... (breath) then didn't it stand to reason that she could heal herself by becoming part of a team? Breath. Regret hit her as she remembered the man who might have once completed that team. In response, she lifted her hands to her chest - eyes still closed - and placed both palms softly over her heart. Accept the regret, and then let it go. Exhale stress. It would be too easy to let herself dwell, and Ianthe had never been one for the easy path. She refocused on the rain as it streamed down her cheeks. Like the raindrop, she was far from alone. If nothing else, she would always, always have Eudore. And Nephele. And wasn't the konti community, in fact, a team? They existed in relative solitude from the rest of Mizahar and relied deeply on each other's gifts and contributions. Without each other, Mura might only be broken wilderness. With one deep breath, and then another, she readied herself to release from her meditative state. Slowly, in direct contrast to the urgency of the downpour, Ianthe dropped her hands to her knees and bowed her head forward. She whispered a soft prayer of thanks to Avalis for guiding her in her practice before blinking out of her reverie. She might yet survive this child, after all.

[Traverse]

Ianthe

Experience:

• Endurance 2
• Meditation 5
• Observation 1

Lores:

• The Sanctuary of One's Mind
• Meditation Technique: Instead of trying to fight surrounding noises, absorb and release them
• Drawing up the Image of an Orchid as a Meditation Focus
• The Seemingly Impossible Task that is Parenthood
• Being Alone is a State of Mind

Additional Notes :

A very enjoyable meditation solo, if you feel I left anything out let me know, I gave the endurance points for the times when Ianthe struggled bringing her meditation back into focus. Am very interested to see if you do flashbacks with 'he who shall not be named'