Open Caiyha’s Tears

[Tribal]

Caiyha’s Tears

At the heart of Endrykas the hearth fire burned; a symbol of the city's fortitude and joint strength. Grassy streets worn down to hardened tracks of mud snaked away from the heart like narrow veins, connecting the rest of the city of tents to this monumental and sacred place. Foreigners were strictly forbidden from venturing too close to the heart-fire though those born or made Drykas were encouraged to pray to their gods here before drawing fire from the hearth for their homes; taking with them the protection, hope, and dreams of their people.

From the first day of the season till the last, the heart-fire was kept alight, fuelled by blessed wood and offerings from the people of Endrykas, and though a member from each of the seven clans had a representative that kept watch, none saw the magic unfold on the night of the sixty-first. The yellow-orange flames of the hearth ebbed and turned blue before dying down, leaving nothing in their wake but a bed of silver ash. From the ashes the twisted vine-like tree appeared, taking form as it silently crept towards the sky under Leth's light, rising up above the tents before its floating branches fell towards the earth like that of a weeping willow.

Small, blue flames took the place of thin, papery leaves, and at every finger-end of the tree's branches, a strange blue fruit cast in the image of a perfect raindrop hung heavily; no bigger than the palm of a man's hand, dotted with bizarre pinprick-like spots in a deeper shade of blue. The burning leaves pointed down rather than rising skyward, defying logic; they were cool to the touch and ghost-like, one for every prayer that had graced the ears of Caiyha, and a piece of fruit for every tear she had shed listening to the plights of the Drykas people.

News of the strange tree had flooded the streets by dawn and it seemed there wasn't a single household in Endrykas that hadn't heard of its existence by the tenth bell. For every hundred that came by to see it with their own eyes, it appeared that only a select few would take of her fruit and steal a taste of the future; for that is exactly what some described seeing upon swallowing the sweet, watery flesh of the pear-like fruit. Others said they saw nothing but felt invigorated and strong, as if the fruit had taken away all of their aches and pains, leaving them happy, healthy, and full of life.

[Colt]

Whispers. They laced through the city like the barest of breezes, in the background, almost unnoticed but touched by everyone. Every breeze held its own tale in the form of a scent, and it was the scents on the breeze that could bring anyone together behind a common cause.

It was the words riding on the whispers that brought the city under a reverent hush in the presence of divinity.

No one could recall exactly when the miracle had taken place, nor had anyone witnessed it happen; the heart of Endrykas, which burned always, had died down to ash and given birth to a tree made of magic. The sorrow of Caiyha, they called it, with leaves made of prayers and fruit made of tears. It was said that to eat the fruit would bring health and happiness and strength, and others said it would give sight into the future.

The All-Mother had touched Endrykas.

Shahar had contemplated the strange occurrence the moment he had heard it. What it meant, why it was happening now, whether or not he should approach and see it for himself. Was a lone clanless Drykas worthy of seeing the grace of Caiyha herself? What purpose had spurred the divine to touch the heart of their city, if not to touch those who dwelt within? Question after question tumbled through his mind, and after a long, silent pondering, Shahar stood and walked back to his camp. Snow appeared at his side, tensely curious in the face of the strange quietness that had fallen over him, and was soon followed by an oblivious Tuka. Both accompanied him to where he informed his family of his intentions: to visit the site of the tree, to pray and to bring a fruit. He made it clear that the fruit was meant for all of them, Seirei included, for the young mother remained nervous of her rights as a Drykas, unsure of whether or not it was her place to tread such sacred ground.

But she was undoubtedly Drykas, and had as much right to the fruit as Shahar or Naiya.

He yvased Akaidras and signaled for his animal companions to follow him as he made his way into the city, Tuka falling into step on his left and Snow on his right. The four of them––Drykas, strider, dog and cat––wove through a city made of whispers, remaining silent in unvoiced anticipation.

Around the heart of Endrykas, it seemed as if the very air itself was reverent of what had happened, and was still happening. They each sensed something in the air, and each was soundless in their approach save for the thumping of their feet; the tree lay in the very center of the city, at the very center of the Drykas people themselves.

It was beautiful to behold, and frightening in a bizarrely non-threatening way. There were no leaves, at least, none like Shahar had ever seen; between the graceful branches flickered ethereal blue flame, although instead of grasping upwards the flames hung down, embracing the darker shapes of the fruit the tree bore.

All-encompassing wonder dominated every portion of Snow’s mind, and was an exact mirror of Shahar’s own.

The Drykas urged Akaidras a few feet closer before dismounting to continue on foot; Tuka lingered farther back, while the stallion arched his neck curiously forward. Snow came to walk at Shahar’s hip, matching every step he made as he approached the ashes of the heart-fire and entered the presence of the tree.

For a moment, all he could do was look at it. The leaves of flame, the shape of the trunk, the shade of the fruit; all were magic, and all were sacred. All were a blessing to even be perceiving.

“Caiyha,” Shahar breathed, reverence in every breath he took. “Guide. Guardian. Mother. Goddess. Is this your doing?” He began to walk, taking slow, deliberate steps around the perimeter of the ashes. “Are these your thoughts? There are those that say these are your tears, that you have sorrow for the Drykas. Many times we have had sorrow for ourselves, All-Mother. We have seen much pain.”

He paused and shifted to face the tree with squared shoulders.

“I have no Clan, All-Mother. But I am Drykas, and I have seen much of my people’s sorrows. I have seen storms of magic. I have seen plague and hunger. I have seen the skies grow dark with the wings of a thousand Zith. I have seen slavery and emptiness. I have seen failure.” He looked at Snow. “And I have seen hope.”

He closed his eyes, took a breath, and stepped into the ash.

“But I still live. I am here, and I am strong. My wives are strong. My Snow is strong. My friend has mothered two children, and grows heavy with another, and all will be Drykas. Because the Drykas have sorrowed, and we have weathered that sorrow, because we have been guarded. You, Caiyha, who is mother to all, has blessed us with the wisdom of your children, and with the knowledge to live in the sacred way and to waste nothing, taking only what we need and returning our bodies to feed your children when our days are done. We have lived by your blessings, and so we remain strong. Storms and Zith and plague have all tried to destroy us, and all have failed. Your blessings guide us with every action, and your gifts have kept us on the path of rightness.”

When he was close enough, he reached up to test the leaves; they did not burn, as he had thought they would, but cool and gentle, slipping over his skin like dust carried on the wind. They did not hurt him.

“My possessions are few, Caiyha. I guard zibri and horses and cats, and my Snow and those that live in my camp. I did not know what I could possibly bring in offering, for we do not hoard material things that we do not need, but I still wish to offer something. When I think of you, All-Mother, there is a single feeling in my heart, and it flows through me without end: gratitude. Your gifts are harsh and gentle in equal measure, and so they are the most beautiful of gifts; for all the creatures of this world live a life of pain and pleasure both, and so is balance created. Night and day, life and death, one and the other; the world is made of opposites, and to pretend otherwise is to upset that balance. Your gifts have taught us the nature of balance, and so we live them. It is what makes us who we are. And so I come before you with no requests, no prayers for the future or questions for the past; all I can offer is the unending gratitude I hold for you.”

And with that, Shahar reached into the leaves and pulled one of the fruits from the branches. He cupped it in both hands and held it close to his chest, dipping his head towards the tree with absolute respect gratitude formal submission departure, then turned and left the miracle that was the mysterious being.

He remounted and signaled for Tuka; Snow had lain down at the edge of the ashes, focused intently on the tree until Shahar told her it was time to leave. It took a moment for her to respond, but soon enough she was shaking herself and standing to make her way back over to him. Had she been making her own prayer?

The four of them left the scene of the event, weaving their way back through the tents and towards where Shahar knew he was to meet Seirei and Naiya. If they were not there, he would wait; they might very well have gone to make their own prayers. He hoped it was so.

In any case, once all three of the Drykas were present he would present the fruit he had taken from the tree, unsheath his knife and cut it into three portions. One would go to Naiya, one would go to Seirei and the last he would take for himself. Truth be told, Shahar had little interest in the stranger claims of the fruit’s properties; what he was most interested in was the widespread story that eating the fruit would cause happiness and vigor. He wanted that for the three of them, and for Seirei in particular; he couldn’t help it that the sight of her eyes, and of the nervous apathy there, always made him think of Hope. Seirei was like Hope in many ways; she was injured, not on the outside but on the inside, where it took longer to heal. Happy, healthy and full of life. That was what the fruit did. That was what he had never been able to give to Hope. That was what he wanted to give to Seirei.

When the fruit was portioned and distributed, Shahar looked into the eyes of both his companions and raised his portion high.

“To our blessings, past, present and future.”

A warm nod, and he ate his piece of the drop-shaped fruit.

[Merevaika]

Merevaika

Rumors among the Drykas spread like wildfire, carried by the wind until every soul knew of the event that had happened. Everyone played there part in it, telling their friends and neighbours, mentioning it to passers-by. But just like a game of whispers, the words changed shape and meaning, taking new forms as people misunderstand or exaggerate what they did not know.

That was what Merevaika believed had happened with this one. For it could not be true; the heart of Endrykas could not die, for if that happened, the city would be thrown into chaos. The blazing fire that never ebbed could not make way for a tree to grow overnight. They said it had flames for leaves, small and blue that reached for the ground rather than the sky. They said it twisted like a vine, reaching great height under Leth's light. They said that strange tears hung from it, teardrops from Caiyha that she'd shed listening to the Drykas plights.

Merevaika did not know whether to believe it. It fought every human instinct, broke all the laws of logic and reality, twisting it in its own strange way, but in her heart, she didn't doubt it. She knew the power of the gods, she knew of what they could do. She knew that Caiyha could just as easily create this tree for her people as she did her divine duty.

It seemed as if the First Witch had truly touched the centre of the city of tents and horses, and blessed it like she blessed her followers and the earth beneath them.

The land had always been sacred, the heart of Endrykas only for Drykas, but the presence of the goddess' touch changed that. It would open new doors to the few who worshiped her but hadn't bonded, and close others, a land only worthy of a few, or so it seemed. But many still came to see the tree, ready to believe it at seeing it with their own eyes. Only a few however, had the courage or believed themselves worthy enough to take the fruit that hung from the tree and eat it.

Merevaika only wished she was one of them. As she thought about it, her mind drifted back to Riverfall, and beyond that. After all, she was worthy enough to be blessed by Caiyha's son. She was worthy enough to gain the memories of a Strider, the noble horses that belonged to Cyphrus even more than the Drykas did. She had been worthy enough to be spared from death when Dira had seized her family. She was worthy enough to bond. So why couldn't she be worthy enough to eat Caiyha's fruit?

She approached the tree tenderly, leaving the crowds that watched it and becoming a new focus. Ash shifted under her feet, the last evidence of the fire that had burned there. Placing one hand upon it, she bowed her head in respect, feeling the great energy surge through her. This was Caiyha's gift to her people, and it was simply beautiful. Emotions bounded around her, curiousity, fear, respect, sorrow and gratefullness, but where they came from, she could not tell. Perhaps it was the ambience of the place, or her own feelings. Perhaps they were feelings sent from the goddess herself.

"Mother," she called her, replacing the mother taken from her so long ago, "Mother, you are wise and beautiful and we are grateful. You hear our prayers, you teach us the ways of life, and that is all we can ask of you."

Her hands reached out, breaking a fruit with careful deliberation, holding it loosely with one hand. "Thank you, Mother of Nature, First Witch, Goddess Caiyha. Thank you for understanding."

As she bit into it, the juices dribbled down her chin, dripping onto the roots of the tree. It was sweet, succulent, and perfect in every way. It was blessed. And so was she, for being in the presence of Caiyha's creation.

[Kyo]

12th bell

There was talk that day of a strange tree. Strange-tree, strange day. There were many people not at the Pride, most of them having left to see for themselves what the whisperers were calling the Mother-tree.

Ramsay, too, was strange, distracted in a way that the coyote had not seen before. His ever-present smile was gone. He looked strained or even sickly, his skin hinting pale under the deep tan from the sun. He was collected enough to stay and help with the animals until a few of his little lambs --his grandchildren-- could come watch the flocks in his absence, instead of leaving the sheep alone untended. Then he, too, left. The dogs --Thunder and Lightning and one other this day that the coyote did not know the name of-- followed after him. After a brief hesitation, the coyote followed too.

They went to Ramsay's home-pavilion, and he collected his two wives-- females the coyote knew were Ramsay's mates. Others in the pavilion saw them and followed. There were more little lambs that the wives were watching; Ramsay had raised many children in his way, and they in turn had had children of their own. One was a baby so small she could not walk and sat on one of the wives' hips. Others were toddlers, or a bit older than that. One of them walked next to the coyote and Lightning, a small hand resting on either of their backs.

The place they went after that was one the coyote had not been before. If he had to think about it, it felt like they were moving to the inside of the city, deeper than he had ever been. Everything was quiet, and yet there were words all around. Most of them were ones he did not know, and he felt an uncharacteristic reluctance to go on. It felt like someone was watching him. Or maybe many someones. The further they traveled in their little group the more people seemed to be around. Finally they reached the place, and pushed gently through to see for themselves why the Drykas people had clustered there.

It was the strange-tree. The Mother-tree. One look at it and the coyote drew back, his reluctance growing. It was burning but not-burning, the fire on its downwards branches a wrong bluish color. It grew out of ashes, not the ground, and there was no smoke from its many pale-fire leaves. People were walking up to touch it and talk to it. But the coyote was overwhelmed by its oddness, and would not go near.

Ramsay, however, would. He started to walk forward, one wife on either side, the handful of children trailing behind like the lambs they were named after, and the coyote wanted to turn human and call out to them, say no, tell them not to touch. Ramsay's great, kind hand reached out, wrapping itself in the burning leaves, and the coyote waited for a scream of pain that did not come. The giant man stood like that for a long time, hand reaching and covered in flame, staring up at the Mother-tree. Then he stepped back, and plucked what must have been a fruit from the end of one long branch. "Come," he said to the coyote when he walked by, and the canine was frightened and confused to see the sorrow on his friend's face. Had he been burned after all?

But no, his arm was whole. The family drifted to the side, where less eyes watched, and then the strange-fruit --Mother-fruit?-- was split between all who had come, including the children --even the baby-- and the dogs. Including, too, the coyote.

The piece he was given was small and blue and oddly spotted, and he did not want to eat it. But the others were, and finally, still hesitant, he took it in his mouth and chewed. It did not taste of ash or smoke, as he had thought it might, but was sweet as any fruit and fragrant as a flower. And sad-tasting somehow, though it was not salty like tears. Swallowing it was difficult, because suddenly the coyote had thought of his boy, who was lost to him, who had been lost for a long long time. His heart yearned to find that which he needed to make it whole.

Close by Ramsay was murmuring under his breath, and the coyote for once did not need to be told-- though he didn't know all the words, the longing tone was everything. "Please, Mother, make me whole."

[Seirei Dawnwhisper]

A delicate bloom

Rumors spread through the city like wild fire. Fast, and relentless. One would have to be utterly oblivious to the world around them to miss hearing the rumors...and Seirei was not oblivious. In the heart of Endrykas, a hearth fire burned.Drykas prayed to their gods there, before returning to their homes with some of the fire in the hopes that it would protect them. This much, Seirei knew. But she had never seen it for herself. She had never been to the heart of Endrykas. Foreigners like herself were forbidden from setting foot in such a sacred place. Those that tried to venture too close out of curiosity, or reasons of their own, were turned away by whatever means necessary. Seirei had never even made the attempt.

Even if she hadn't been terrified of how Lian would respond to what he would have seen as an act of terrible defiance on her part, she was not one to go where she wasn't wanted. Especially when the gods were involved. Seirei was not one of the people who prayed to the gods daily, making sacrifices and offerings constantly in the hopes of gaining favor. Nor did she blame the gods for everything bad that happened in her life as some seemed to. But she did respect the gods deeply. Too deeply to intrude in a scared place that was not meant for her.

That didn't mean that she wasn't curious, though. When word spread through the city that the hearth fire in the heart of Endrykas had died, leaving a bed of silver ash from which a tree had grown in its wake, Seirei couldn't help but wonder if it were true. Especially when other rumors claimed that eating the fruit of that tree made one feel invigorated, and strong. All aches and pains would fade away, leaving happiness, and good health in their wake. Seirei wondered if the fruit would affect her the same way. She was a Drykas now, having bonded to a beautiful strider mare last summer. And yet...she did not know what it meant to be Drykas. Not really. She was struggling to find her place, and discover who she was now. Freedom was a gift that she treasured more than anything. She was deeply grateful to the magic, or gods that had brought Kairi and Thunder to her...and she always would be. But with freedom came confusion, and that confusion brought fear. It was a different fear than the constant terror of wondering when Lian would begin forcing himself on her again. Different than the feeling of being trapped, and utterly alone in a city of hostile strangers. But for all that they was different, the fear of uncertainty for the future and the fear that she was unworthy of the striders that had given her her freedom were every bit as real...and as constant...as her old fears had been.

Seirei had known who she was as a child, living among the trade caravan she had been born into. She knew who she had been as Lian's captive, desperate for freedom, and fighting to keep hope alive with plans of escape that Seirei didn't truly believe would ever come to pass. But who was she now? Free, yes. Drykas, yes. But those things were what she was, not who she was. And Seirei didn't know if she would ever know who she was ever again. Happiness...true happiness...was something that had eluded her for a very long time. Would she find it again if she ate a piece of fruit from the tree? Was such a thing possible for her?

Other rumors claimed that those who ate the fruit from the magical tree would see visions of the future. Could that be true? Seirei didn't know. But she was inclined to believe that it was. At least for some. After all...why wouldn't it be? If a tree could grow in an instant where a fire had once been, why couldn't its fruit grant visions of the future? The magic of the silver chest had been very real...why would the magic of the tree, and its fruit be any different?

Shahar came to tell both her and Naiya that he was going to the tree. He would offer his prayers to the gods, and then bring back a fruit for the three of them to share. When he made it clear that she was to be included in the sharing of the fruit, Seirei offered him a shy smile of sincere gratitude as she thanked him. Once he had left, Seirei's thoughts turned back to the tree once more. Should she go herself? Did she dare? She certainly had enough to offer thanks for. And if she did, she could bring back a piece of fruit of her own to share. She wanted to give something back to the people that had done so much for her. Shahar and Naiya had taken her in, given her a home. A place to belong. Perhaps bringing them a piece of fruit that was said to bring happiness to those who ate it would show them just how grateful she was for their kindness? Words alone seemed like poor thanks, and there was so very little she could offer in return.

After giving it some more thought, Seirei decided that she would go. She didn't have much confidence that she would truly welcome there. Her acceptance among the Drykas was still new enough that she didn't trust it completely. She no longer expected scorn and anger as a matter of course whenever she ventured out into the city, but this was different. The heart of Endrykas was sacred to the Drykas people. Would she be accepted, even welcomed there, too? Or was this newfound acceptance conditional? But it was important enough to Seirei to try.

So she told Naiya what she hoped to do, and made her way out of the camp, full of wary misgivings. Kairi and Thunder joined her without being asked. Their comforting presence made her smile softly. She stroked their necks, and talked to them quietly for a few chimes. Telling them of what she hoped to do, and why. Kairi tossed her head, and whickered softly, as if approving Seirei's idea. Seirei wrapped her arms around the mare's neck lightly for a few ticks, thanking her for her support. Then she pulled a few generous handfuls of grass, offering them to her strider as a treat. The mare took them eagerly, and lipped Seirei's fingers, as if in thanks. Then Seirei and her striders continued on their way.

No one contested her as she made her way to the tree. A few Drykas nodded to her as they passed, but nothing more. Perhaps the presence of her striders reminded them that she, too, was Drykas now. It didn't matter what caused the acceptance. Seirei was just grateful that it was given. It made her feel slightly less apprehensive of what she was about to do.

The tree itself was...beautiful. Its trunk was more vine like than tree like, and its branches seemed to float down to earth. The overall shape was something like that of the willows that Seirei often used in her work. But that was where the similarity ended. Small blue flames "grew" instead of the leaves one would expect a tree to have. And at the very tip of each branch grew a palm sized blue fruit shaped like a perfect raindrop. Each fruit was dotted with tiny splotches of a deeper shade of blue than the fruit itself was.

"Caiyha, First Witch..." Seirei began uncertainly.

What did one say to a goddess? Seirei struggled to put words to what she wanted to say for several chimes before finally daring to speak.

"I am not sure that I belong here...that I have the right to be here." she said softly, her heart full of uneasy misgivings.

"This is a sacred place for the Drykas people. One that is forbidden to outsiders. And I...I am a Drykas...now. But I have not been a Drykas for long. And I do not yet know what it means to be a Drykas. Not really. But I want to. Now that I'm free..."

Would Caiyha have any idea what she was talking about? The gods could see things, and know things that mortals like herself could not. But why would she expect that she was so important, or special that one of the gods would care enough to know about her? One mortal among many.

"I was a captive of the Drykas not long ago. But last summer, a magical chest appeared in the city. You might know about that. It is believed that the chest was a gift from one of the gods. The magic of the chest was such that if you put something in it, the chest would take it, but give you something else in return. I don't know if I had any right to offer something to the chest since I was a captive, but...I did. And a strider foal appeared in the chest. A tiny, beautiful colt. His mother came soon after, and claimed me along with her foal."

Seirei paused, searching for the pavi words she wanted to use. She was trying to become better at speaking the language of her new people, so she used pavi exclusively in the hopes that using it constantly would allow her to pick up the nuances faster. Besides...speaking anything other than pavi in this sacred place of the Drykas people felt wrong.

"My freedom is a gift that I can never repay. But I will spend the rest of my life trying to repay it. When I was a captive, I tried to work towards plans of escaping, and regaining my freedom. I think that it helped to keep me sane. But deep down, I didn't truly believe I would ever be free again. Now I am. The magic of the chest has given me my life back again. And it has given me so much more. I have a home now. A family. After the trade caravan I was raised with abandoned me in the Sea of Grass shortly before I became a captive, I didn't think I would ever have either of those things again. But two amazing people opened their home to me. They protected me from the man who had taken me captive, and offered me a place to belong. I can't..."

Seirei's voice failed her as tears of wonder and gratitude filled her eyes. She didn't even try to control them.

"I can't ever repay the gifts that I have been given...but I want to try. And I have no right to ask anything more of you...but I feel that I must. Please...help me become a better person. Help me become worthy of the gifts I have been given, and to find a way to repay what cannot ever be repaid."

Seirei reached for one of the fruits, then hesitated, drawing her hand back uncertainly. After a few ticks, she reached for it again, only to hesitate once more. Her fingers brushed lightly against the fruit as she questioned whether she was worthy of such a gift. Whether she dared take such an incredible gift. Then she remembered why she had wanted one of the fruits in the first place. She wanted to give something back to the people who had given her so much. And while she wouldn't have dared to take a piece of fruit for herself, she found the courage to take one to share with her friends. Seirei's hand wrapped lightly around the piece of fruit, and she pulled gently until it came free.

When she arrived back at the Dawnwhispers' camp, Shahar was already there. Seirei offered the fruit she had brought to him shyly, explaining that she wanted to give something back to the friends that had given her so much. She watched as Shahar divided up the fruit he had brought back, handing both Naiya and herself a piece."

“To our blessings, past, present and future.”

"To our blessings, past, present, and future." Seirei echoed quietly.

Then she ate the piece of fruit Shahar had given her.

[Amunet]

She had heard of the tree that sprung up overnight that was the rare and magical tree from a goddess well known and well worshipped among the Drykas. The little woman wondered if even one of those fruits of Caiyha’s Tears was of one of her prayer of plight. Though she prays to Rak’keli she does give the prayer here and there to other god’s and goddesses where it is due. Amunet was a very spiritual young woman. She walked up to the tree alone in the wee hours of the night on quiet feet.

Another nightmare, another night begging for things to not be the way they were being forced to go. The crossroads was there right before her, she knew it. It hung on her shoulders like a heavy weight that seemed to grow heavier with each passing day. She whispered to the magical tree in whispers that held her heart on the very breath she spoke, “what do I do?”

This should be a question to her mother and father. Her mother was dead long since when she was twelve. Her father had sided with her grandfather, the Ankal, to the marriage to a heartless man. Her soul wrapped up and packaged and sold it seemed for the price of a secret. What secret was worth the soul of a single person? This single question caused her such anguish and grief that kept her at a pin’s edge.

“Is there hope?” The girl whispered to the bark of the tree her hand palmed gently. The blue flames reminding her of her lantern, of the blue light of the healing waters of the cave and of the very fiery spirit that was held in her own sky blue eyes that seemed to streak similar colors to Zulrav’s lightning racing across the stormy skies where the striders ran the plains wild and free.

It was the hubris of man that caged each other and themselves in boxes of their own making. Tradition in as much saved the Drykas as it hindered them from progress, from evolution of the soul. “Caiyha, do I cage myself for my pavilion for better crafting or do I deny such things to keep to my own council to what my heart speaks. This man, this spiritless man grants no boon that I see, or am I blind? “ She turned around and leaned against the tree as her little palm came under one of the richly colored fruits that was heavy for its size. It seemed the fruit came off with the barest touch. The tear that hung on her cheek like a crystal seemed to match the shimmer of the fruit that was now in her palm.

The blue flame seemed to dance with the breeze that whisked around her and she swore she could hear someone say, ‘take a bite’. Is it a trick? Is it a boon? The fruit smelled with such bliss that her mouth watered as her arms on their own accord seem to bring it closer. Her curiosity burned a hole in her so hotly that the very juice of the fruit was all that could quench it. The little woman ate deeply.

[Naiya]

The tree had grown in the heart of the city, the very fire that brought the Drykas together had been given the form of the goddess's gift. That's what they were calling it, a gift from the goddess Caiyha. Surely it was truth, for who else could send a plant that was so alien, one that defied logic.

Naiya had been only one of many to follow the beaten trail of both bare and boot clad feet, the impacts overlapping into a rut in the dirt. It didn't matter, if she hadn't known where the fire had been, where the tree now was, she merely had to ask one of the many who spoke of it. Gossip was not uncommon among the Drykas, and such news as this was quick to make its way not only through the city, but through the web as well.

The tree was fire given a single form, blue like the hottest flames and dotted with heavy dewdrop fruits. Caiyha had blessed them- of that there was no doubt. There was magic in the plant, drifting through the air around it as though the tree exuded it. Perhaps it did, such a claim would explain the words she heard in the excited voices of the people. The fruit bestowed vigor and visions, the strength of the goddess some thought. Naiya herself could not be sure, nor could she fathom the purpose of such a gift. It was beautiful, and if the Drykas needed anything, it was the strength to continue on. The early cold of the season had dried the supply of milk from the Zibri, just one of many trials they had faced in recent years. So perhaps this was a touch of the strength they needed to make it through the winter?

It was hard to tell, and Naiya did not have much time to ponder. The crowd was not rude, nor pushy, but there was certainly a sense of urgency to the onslaught of visitors, and she would not hold them up for long.

She stepped up to the tree, stirring up ash as she ducked beneath the strange foliage. There was a hush beneath the tree, the willow like shape cutting out the others to a small degree. She offered the tree reverence shaping it in the air before her hands came to rest on the vine-like trunk. Gratitude, curiosity her body shaped these as she began to speak.

"I sought your attention today when I heard that you had blessed us with a your favor. My people have faced many trials, the least of which was hunger or thirst, but such worries do not become small because other worries are present." Her mind did not drift, although the cause for her attention to the goddess became ever more clear as she spoke, her mind catching on the image of her growing family. "My family is small, but we continue to grow, my husband, my wife, our friend, her children. We are few, but we have one another to be strong, to lift us up when we falter."

She said the words, and knew them to be true, but it was not enough, still she worried for her family. "We are careful to follow you, Caiyha, taking only what we need, giving back to you in every way that we can. We raise creatures of our own to help us through when times are hard, and we sacrifice what we can to show our gratitude. Even so, I am concerned for my family. I could not bear to lose them." She had come to her point, the faces of her family strongly in mind. "I came to ask you for knowledge, so that we may know how to weather the trials we will face, and reassurance that we travel the right path."

Her gratitude was great, and her heart was filled with relief for having spoken the words before the goddess in such a place where she was sure they would be heard. She took another chime in the presence of the tree, her hands held fast to the bark. Respect, great thanks, reverence, polite departure.

She took no fruit, for she had already asked much of the goddess. Instead she let the cool touch of the leaves soothe her worries as she stepped out from beneath them.

Her heart was lighter as she made her way home, her feet no longer dragging with the weight of her concerns. When she arrived Seirei and Shahar were both back from their visits with the goddess. A smile lit her face as the image that had been her focus in her prayers met her on her return.

Greetings, joy she signed to them both, approaching Shahar so that she might greet him as a wife, embracing him warmly and placing a quick kiss on his jaw before stepping back, keeping just in reach as he presented one of the blue tear drop fruits from the tree.

He divided the fruit into sections, handing one to each of them before raising the fruit into the air.

"To our blessings," Naiya agreed as she lifted the fruit to her lips, "Past, present, and future."

[Rufio]

Rufio had heard the murmurs and gossip. A tree had sprung where fire usually crackled at the heart of the city, and at the heart of the Drykas was Caiyha held.

The Wildmanes' young Ankal, Tal'ck, had gathered his herd and told them of what had been whispered across the web that late morning. A tree, like no other, bearing leaves of surreal blue flame, and fruit that gave vigor, even visions some were saying.

His story had been greeted with voices of hushed reverence, hands waving rapidly, bewilderment caught between excitement, curiosity, a healthy dose of skepticism. Entwined in these fear trickling in their expressive, solemn faces.

What was it all to mean? Where magics and gods were concerned, the usually free-spirited and far-seeing Wildmanes tread with caution.

Rufio was the single among them that did not feel afraid or excited. A sense of calm, quiet welcoming settled in the pit of her stomach. It felt cool, seeping into the muscles of her limbs, like lowering oneself into a pool of water, the density heavy and soothing at once.

All of the Fall she had been suffering nightmares. Terrifying flashes of lightning, wild striders shrieking, death and darkness. Her self had begun to feel disjointed, fractured. It had been seeping slowly into her waking thoughts.

Yet she was not afraid of any of it. Rufio took after her forefathers more than she knew. Though she did not suffer the 'wandering Wildmane' curse as the men did, her spirit was still born magnetized to explore the unknown.

For her fore-fathers this had been the Sea of Grass. For Rufio, it manifested as a need to know what was beyond the very confines of the corporeal world, that spiritual realm. To feel connected, belonging, in some deep way to everything.

So when she stood amidst the gathered Drykas, she felt misplaced. Even with secret half-brother Louka standing next to her, her Ankal beside him, and their beloved, revered grandmother Raen in front of the three.

The old woman, back hunched with the weight of life, her skin sallow and wrinkled as canyons carved in stone, held aloft her gnarled hands to beseech the goddess with a prayer of servitude, protection, thanks-giving.

Before she took a fruit from between the strange leaves. None could argue that this elder, who was alive to see her great grandchildren, was deserving of the goddess' offering. She was a wise, if overbearing and trouble-stirring, elder in the community.

As her keen, piercing, all-seeing blue eyes fell on her grandchildren—Tal'ck, Louka, Rufio—she decided the gift was for them. Tal'ck, the young Ankal, was given the fruit, and told to use its vigor, or visions, whichever was to come.

"Lead them-" Wildmane "-and lead them strong."

Her words a weighty responsibility that the man carried on his shoulders. Tal'ck took the fruit, felt its weight in his palm, his eyes peered at the blue-spotted skin, contemplating and solemn.

He glanced around at the rest of the Drykas, watched as others stepped up to take fruit, to say a prayer, just to touch the tree and by that way grow closer to the goddess. Then he looked in turn at his cousins, Louka and Rufio.

His thoughtful cerulean orbs settled longest on Rufio with a thoughtful air. She returned his gaze, her features a picture of unconditional acceptance of him and that knack she had of reading his feelings. Tal'ck took in a deep breath, his chest rose and fell with hard certainty.

He jerked his hand and held the fruit out to Rufio. Louka sucked in a surprised breath and gripped his half-spear tighter. Great-Mama Raen's weathered face broke into a wolfish grin, eyes almost disappearing beneath her bushy brows. Rufio hesitated, and rejected the offer.

"Tal'ck, you're our Ankal, it is for you." Meant for you.

"Rufio. I do not pray nearly as often as you, as I should. I am Drykas, I am bonded. I am Ankal. I am Wildmane blood and Wildmane heart, and body and spirit. Whereas you...
...You are not Drykas, not in whole."

Rufio felt a jab in her chest and hurt lit in her Benshira eyes, along her Benshira mouth, she tossed her Benshira-cast hair. Anger and resentment leaked into her Drykas features - the freckles, the cheekbones, the square face, the set of her shoulders.

Tal'ck held up a hand to intercept her.

"It doesn't matter. Half your blood is-" Other, foreign, dirt. "-But half is-" Wildmane, belongs. "too. Even though no strider has chosen you yet-" Regret, sympathy. "-maybe this will tell you where you belong." Meant "-for you. "...I already know my path, eh." Ankal, curse, future, family.

Rufio stared at her cousin, bewildered. The hurt still seething beneath. The truth was she wasn't wholly Drykas, she knew that it was just truth. It was a raw nerve, exposed and painful to the touch.

Sure, she had loved her Benshira mother beyond anything, anyone else. Since her death, though, Rufio had felt that part of her faded away, and she desired nothing more than to fill that void with Drykas. To be Drykas. Whole, full, complete.

Her two halves sat disjointed within her, uncomfortable, shifting, causing quakes and cracks to split in her feelings, her sense of self. Yet it was the truth nonetheless. She didn't like to acknowledge it, but she was a whole made up of halves.

Rufio's heritage belonged to two cultures. Half in, half out, both belonging and not belonging. Rufio felt she belonged nowhere, to no-one. Tal'ck took Rufio's left hand and set the pear in her palm, closing her fingers around it.

"Find belonging in the gods, in yourself, if you can't in Drykas, or your mother's people, ah?"

Grand-Mama let a quiet, approving chuckle growl into the air between her three grand-children, before hobbling away. She was tailed by the sturdy Tal'ck, and then the lanky, awkward Louka, who gave Ru's upper arm an encouraging squeeze before he left her.

Rufio looked around at the other Drykas, then left the scene, feeling disconnected from them, her raw nerve throbbing, and yet even more connected than she'd ever felt at the same time, Tal'ck's kindness sinking in.

She took herself to the edge of Endrykas, the Wind-Knotted gates. Here she lent against the weathered wood and gazed into the grasslands where each of her forefathers had wandered one day to disappear.

'Maybe even when you're whole in blood and family, that's not enough?'

She mused, and sighed. Underlying it all Rufio just lacked some sense of purpose. Unable to articulate a desire to feel connected to everything. An impossibility for any mortal; deep down she envied Caiyha.

Rufio ate, ravenous for answers.
Would The First Witch speak to her?

✼ ✼ ✼

After, later...Rufio returns to the heart of the city and takes a handful of the ashes in a small pouch to carry with her. She plans to grow the pips leftover from her pear in the ashes, nurturing the plant's life in dedication to Caiyha.
　　

[Tribal]

Like bees to the honey, the tree saw more visitors in one morning than the heart fire had all season; men, women, and children, some with offerings, others just with questions. The visions offered little, left mostly to the interpretations of the people who saw them, and though only few could count themselves lucky enough to say that Caiyha had sent them a dream, even fewer shared what they had seen. For each aspiration she sent, a blue flame would burn out and soon there was little to go around.

For the dark haired man who had come and gone with loyal companions at his side and a heavy prayer, the gift of Caiyha's fruit touched the subtle lines of his face, smoothing out the light crow's feet markings that formed at the edge of his eyes, and darkened every hair on his head. Youth once again settled where the aches of a life lived well might dwell and as the last piece of healing fruit sunk down into his belly, a vision of the goddess filled his mind.

Long ever-green hair fell around her shoulders, threaded with ivy and moss. Her eyes were inviting, the colour of a jungle viper's scales and she looked at Shahar, as if to bore into his very soul and summoned him with a curled finger, pulling him forth into the too-white vision; like looking into the sun. The goddess was gone and in her wake the world was awash of white snow and there at his feet lay a trail of blood, stark against the blanket of winter, leading out into the wilds. The hallucination, like so many others, offered little, but the whispered word that followed was undeniably clear, 'follow,' the goddess had spoken.

For Merevaika there too came a vision of a lone, black wolf joining a group of her kind with head lowered and tail tucked. The grey wolves stood in a half circle with teeth bared and hackles high. The black wolf rolled submissively and the air, once electric with static that seemed to crack, seemed to calm as the pack jumped in on the loner and together they played and frolicked in the tall grass; a message of unison and acceptance conveyed.

The coyote was not graced with the sight of the goddess, but a warmth encased him like the embrace of an old friend, warming him to the bone, a caress that felt so full of love and affection it felt as if nothing else might ever compare. The fruit stole away all his woes for a time, replenishing his health and offering a boost of energy that made him feel as if he could run all night. But run he would not, for that night he dreamt the sweetest dream, a dream of his boy. So real it seemed as if he had never suffered the hurt of the past or known loss like he knew now, and in those sweet, fleeting, blissful seconds before he woke, Ulric put his arms around the coyote in the same warm embrace and told him that he would always watch over him.

Seirei too seemed to go without a vision, but the same warmth wound down her spine and crept across her belly as if to touch the growing lives inside of her. She too would experience dreams that night, of a child marked by the goddess. In that dream the young girl would look back over her shoulder at Seirei, smile and then follow the running water of the river to a garden so beautiful it felt almost impossible to dream such a vivid dream without having seen such flowers in the flesh. Inside the garden the girl was raised up into the arms of a faceless man, a man who embraced Seirei as she drew near with an effortlessness that made her feel right at home.

In Amunet's vision she was faced with the image of a black snake weaving through the golden sea of grass. The snake soon came to a path that split off in two different directions. At the end of one path her father and the man she was betrothed to stood shrouded in shadow, and at the other, the reflection of a half moon over a glassy pond. The goddess led the fiery harried woman into the pool and when she resurfaced on the other side everything seemed right with the world.

Naiya's vision took her to the coast where a fleet of black ships lined a small, rocky bay. In the sand lay rows upon rows of tracks, unmistakably left by the quick moving Zibri that looked to lead straight into the water. There in the mix were the heavy footfalls of Strider and man alike but at the water's edge the waves and foam was thick with blood. The black vessels slowly fled out of view towards the horizon and when Naiya turned to look back the city of tents was battered and weathered down by rain and snow.

For Rufio there too came a warmth and the quick movement of shadows dancing back and forth against the ground in the firelight. Music and sweet burning scents overwhelmed her senses before a familiar thundering of hooves took her vision to the Sea of Grass where the wild horses and historical figures of her pavilion roamed free; her Strider waiting for her. As she raised her hands to caress the horse, she found her limbs to be decorated with the unmistakable etchings of the Drykas windmarks. As the Strider turned its head to glance at something, tangled in the thick of its wild mane was the small, carved figurine of a lion and below that a circular piece of flat gold with its centre missing.

G R A D E S


Shahar Dawnwhisper

Experience

• Logic: 1
• Animal Husbandry: 1
• Philosophy: 1
• Investigation: 1

Lore

• Event: Caiyha's Tears
• Drykas: A dying race
• Caiyha: Firm but fair
• Seirei: Just like Hope
• Endrykas: The Heart Fire
• Rumours spread like wildfire in Endrykas

Merevaika

Experience

• Philosophy: 1
• Logic: 1
• Observation: 1

Lore

• Event: Caiyha's Tears
• Caiyha: The First Witch
• Dira: Goddess of Death
• Endrykas: The Heart Fire
• Rumours spread like wildfire in Endrykas

Kyo

Experience

• Detection: 1
• Observation: 1

Lore

• Event: Caiyha's Tears
• Ramsay: Twice married
• Caiyha: The First Witch
• A prayer for Caiyha
• Endrykas: The Heart Fire
• Rumours spread like wildfire in Endrykas

Seirei

Experience

• Logic: 1
• Philosophy: 1
• Observation: 1

Lore

• Event: Caiyha's Tears
• Endrykas: The Heart Fire
• Rumours spread like wildfire in Endrykas
• Drykas: Pray to their gods at the heart fire

Amunet

Experience

• Logic: 1
• Philosophy: 1
• Observation: 1

Lore

• Caiyha's Tears
• Endrykas: The Heart Fire
• Rumours spread like wildfire in Endrykas
• Drykas: Tradition hinders progress

Naiya Dawnwhisper

Experience

• Logic: 1
• Philosophy: 1

Lore

• Caiyha's Tears
• Endrykas: The Heart Fire
• Rumours spread like wildfire in Endrykas
• Drykas life is rife with trials and tribulations

Rufio

Experience

• Observation: 1
• Logic: 1
• Philosophy: 1
• Socialisation: 1
• Botany: 1

Lore

• Caiyha's Tears
• Endrykas: The Heart Fire
• Rumours spread like wildfire in Endrykas
• Wildmare: Free-spirited
• Tal'ck: Knows his path
• Tal'ck: Abrasive
• Louka: Lanky and Awkward

Rewards

1 x willow sapling

Notes

Some really awesome posts here guys, as I said, not everyone would get a vision. Some of you got a heads up for some major upcoming plots, others maybe be visited by the goddess again soon, and hopefully a few of you got some answers if not more questions. Short and sweet, a bit mean wasn’t I? No epic quests this season but for the rest of November I am free to write one on ones with people, maybe 1 v 2 if you have a plot idea you would like explored with a friend and need a ST to help run. Let me know guys, the office is always open. Last event has been shifted I’m afraid; it may take place this winter. Enjoy the rewards!