Closed Turning of the Tide (Merevaika)

[Haena]

1st Fall, 516
Early Evening
The Tent of Patrons
Speech
Others

Haena was exhausted, both mentally and physically, haunted by sleepless nights caused by painful dreams of loss and grief. It showed on her face, a light shadow of bruise-purple bags under her eyes, laugh-lines obscured by frowns and puckered lips. The evening sun was dusting the tops of tents with a golden glow as she strode without purpose through the tent city, eyes avoiding everyone they alighted on, sliding away from conversation or distraction.

She thought, wryly, that she had experience in understanding her own mindset right now. Echoes of thoughts passed back to that dark time, when she had been overcome with depression following the birth of Julai. Yet then, Eikre had been there to comfort and console her. Now, she had no-one. No-one to hold her and make her feel right. No-one to cry to. Inside she was exploding with pain, but externally? Julai and Tomas couldn't see her as broken as she was. The woman couldn't let herself grieve, so externally she smiled tautly, carried on jerkily, and made do with whatever scraps of happiness that she could drag up to keep her children occupied and safe from the raging torrent of unhappiness that dwelt inside.

The sun had sunk lower now, shining directly into the woman's face and making her eyes water. The light felt pure and lancing, she let it sink into her flesh and overcome her. She stood, a solitary figure, dry ground underneath her sandalled feet, dark blonde hair flat in the diminishing heat, illuminated by the light of Syna and turned into a glowing human made of sunlight. She cut a pretty figure, despite the suffering drenching her features. Even in the pure light of Syna's rays the grief remained, gnawing at her core. She couldn't put away the pain, and she knew, finally, where she wanted to go.

Locating the Tent of Patrons wasn't difficult. She was in the Opal part of Endrykas' arms, and not far from the heart of the city. The tent was a few chimes away, almost as if instinctively she had known that was where she needed to be. Now that she knew what she was doing, her pace quickened and she almost ran towards her destination. It was still fresh in her mind, the place where she had added Eikre and Brandon to the Ola Pohaku. She needed to seek solace from the stone. Perhaps there her suffering could lessen in the presence.

.

[Merevaika]

Merevaika

It was yet another season. She didn't know what this one would have in stall for her. Each one was so... different. It was in the early hours of the morning when it hit her most. Her mind was tired, her body still asleep, but the fears and pain of everything came flooding back to her. Her eyes open, and they were different. Her hair had matted across her shoulders, but it grew no longer. She had grown over the years, her muscles tightening and growing firm. Scars traced over her body, her hand lingering on the one across her stomach, mind lingering on the event.

Would they even recognise her?

Merevaika was not the woman she was a season ago. She wasn't the woman she had been a year ago. And the girl from seven had almost completely vanished.

Time kept flowing and working away at her, tearing her apart then building her up, stronger and weaker at the same time.

She lay like that for a long time, unable to think of anything but the past. It gnawed at her, and she hated herself and everything she had become. Why did things have to change? Why did she have to lose things that she loved? People that she loved. Her cheeks grew wet but she wasn't certain why. She didn't brush away the moisture, but let it grow on her.

Then she decided she couldn't just lie there and think about everything she had lost. So she did the next thing she could, the next thing that fell into her mind like a leaf in water, scattering ripples across an already rough surface. She rode. She rode all day and lost herself in the Sea of Grass.

Eryunt glided under her, the Drykas feeling like she had found her place in the world. Was this all she needed: the steady rhythmic noise of hooves, the wind in her hair and face, the horse beneath her? Then memories came back - memories of last Winter. Of a death she blamed herself more, a murder that actually rang through her body and called out in accusation. She spurred Eryunt onwards, but found herself galloping towards Endrykas anyway.

As she finally approached the tents, her mind settled on one thing - she needed to pay her respects and say sorry.

Her hands trembled as she leant beside the rock. Scars covered it, marks of green and brown coating the light that tried to shine through. Somewhere on here, Ywana had placed a streak of blue for Vaikar. It should have been the only mark representing him for many, many years. But a little less than a year ago, she must have come, trembling with sorrow, perhaps furious at Merevaika, pressing a finger of brown against the rock. Did she murmur his name as Merevaika did now? Did her fingers linger against the paint, hiding the earth from her view, like the Drykas did now? Or had she stayed strong, like Merevaika wished she had the strength to do.

She heard a noise and her eyes flickered up, mouth still whispering her apologies. Older than her, but only just. Pain and loss in her eyes. A swirling mix of gnosis and windmarks. Stepping back, she tried to let the woman have her turn. "I'm sorry," she apologised, still to Vaikar but her voice was louder, so the woman could hear her too.

[Haena]

Speech
Others

The Tent of Patrons smelled of earth and the rich, pungent scents of raw pigments. It was different to the other, myriad scents of the tent city, but so easily recognisable that the woman stiffened, remembering that day. No. She bit her lip, and lowered her gaze. The sun had blinded her, and so it took a few ticks for her eyes to adjust to the dim light inside. When she finally cleared her vision, she stole a quick glance at the other woman already there. A whispered, "Sorry", came from her general direction, but she said nothing. There was nothing to be said. 'Sorry' didn't mean anything to her, because grief was beginning it's slow descent.

Grief came in many forms. She had come to realise this since it had happened. There had been the torrential downpouring of grief when the news had broken. The numb, dead grief after the storm. The bitter, angry, selfish grief of missing the way a person made you feel. The guilty grief of realising that you didn't say 'I love you' enough, or didn't know someone well enough. Haena felt she had known them all in this short time. She felt she would know them, and more, for many more years.

Now she fell slowly to her knees, hoping the stranger would understand her lack of words, of conversation. Her hand reached out silently to touch the stone with a gentle approach, fingertips gracing the cool surface. She knew it was the way, but already she knew that Eikre, Brandon, Rolen's marks... that they were lost in the myriad of other marks, births, deaths. Every Drykas lived and died on this stone, but she didn't care about any of the others, at that moment. Only her family, who she had lost, who would never be here anymore.

Quietly she fell back onto her heels, and sat on the floor for a chime. Tears refused to come, and in the presence of another she would not have wanted them to come. But they welled beneath the surface, threatening to break free even as Haena held back the storm like a woman fighting for her life. Angrily she swept the heel of her wrist down her brow, over her eye and down her cheek, then stood up without much gracefulness.

Now she started to become aware of the other woman properly. She was tall, taller than Haena certainly, with cropped hair of a wavy brown. A second glance towards her face made her do a double take- eyes of a vibrant green, ringed with red. She smiled quickly, her lips rising to a smile and then falling back after their weak effort. Then she nodded, and signed, respect. The woman had apologised for something, although Haena didn't know what, she wouldn't ask. Gods, she knew if anyone were to ask her about her grief, she wouldn't know where to begin.

So for now, she simply stood, gazing at the stone, losing herself to memories. The air in the tent grew still, and she clasped her hands in front of her as she closed her eyes, trying to tune out the presence of the other woman. Yet it was difficult. Something called out to her. Perhaps it was the guilt of not wanting to care about the other Drykas recorded on the stone. This woman clearly mourned something as much as Haena did herself, and it was something she wouldn't wish on her dearest enemy.

Her half-smile of before came back again, more genuine this time, laced through with sadness that came through especially in her eyes as she brought her gaze up to meet the taller woman. "There's both much and little solace in this stone, yes?"

.

[Merevaika]

Merevaika

"There's both much and little solace in this stone, yes?"

Merevaika stared at the earth and the sky as they swirled together. She had come seeking something, but she wasn't going to get. She wasn't ever going to find it.

The air was still around her and her movements as she trembled seemed to stir it.
She was so sorry, more sorry than she could have ever felt - the world had to know that. But it didn't matter: nothing mattered. The Drykas closed her eyes and felt her breath escape her in rapid bursts, heart thundering like the hooves of her Strider. It took her a few moments to recover, until her world had slowed.

In the end, her sorry didn't matter, because he was still dead and she was still guilty. And there was no way to bring him back.

Realising the question, if it could be called that, still hung in the air between them, Merevaika looked up again, her eyes dulled with the water pooling in them. Red and green mixed as she blinked, forcing tears away. Her silence said more than her words could. If she was to try to speak, nothing would come out that made sense. It would be a garbled mess, with the Drykas split open and the emotions let to gush out.

The smile she was given held everything Merevaika was suppressing, and it comforted her, so much. She wasn't the only one. This woman, whoever she was, felt what she felt, and had lost like she had lost.

No, Merevaika decided, she hadn't. Because Merevaika had lost so little, so little compared to everyone else. It was her fault. If she cared - if she had truly cared - Vaikar wouldn't be dead. Pressing an open palm against the rock, she felt a prayer, and she couldn't help it.

She didn't pray to the gods. They didn't listen and they didn't care. The last time must have been the caves, just after... after... Stifling a sob, she spat the words into the air, not caring what the other woman thought. "Semele, Zulrav, care for your son." This prayer wasn't for her - it was for him, and maybe that meant they would listen.

Looking up slowly at the woman, she let her eyes drop on the sadness. "If we could just erase the marks..." she whispered softly to her. Then she could remove Vaikar's death. Or she could remove herself so the boy would never have died in the first place. "Who was it?" she then asked, voice reduced to a whisper.

[Haena]

Speech
Others

"Who was it?" A question, feather-light. Haena's smiled dropped awkwardly from her lips and she swallowed, bringing her hand to her throat with a soft touch. Oh. "I... My husband. My husband's brother. And my brother." She broke off and walked slowly to the side, away from the other woman, away from the stone. Her comment, of wanting to rub the marks off, was more potent than she knew. If only she could. If it was as simple as getting rid of some coloured marks, she would do it in a heartbeat. But although Cyphrus was beautiful, it took what it wanted, and she couldn't ever stop that.

She pressed her fingers to Caiyha's mark emblazoned on her arm as she tried not to let ocean-salt tears fall down her cheeks, sending a silent beseechment to her goddess as she did so. Everything is for a reason. It was something she had told herself, over and over and over again, but right now it wasn't enough. Gods but she was angry. She sighed, coursing her fingers through her hair roughly as she spun to stare at the woman. "You? Who's mark do you grieve?"

Her gaze dropped, and she cursed under her breath as a singular dewdrop of a tear slid down her skin, leaving a glistening trail in it's wake. She swiped it away, her hand flicking abruptly. Tears don't help anyone. But the other woman had sorrow in her gaze too, and Haena felt a sudden connection to the Drykas woman alone in the tent with her.

She signed as she drew her wrists up to press into her eyes. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap." Her fingers twisted into the sign for stress, although it would be obvious from her body language that she was in a state. "I'm Haena Horserun, Clan Opal." She subtly showed her Opal Clan colours, and inclined her head towards the stranger. "May I ask your name?"

.

[Merevaika]

Merevaika

It was everyone. It was the best way she could explain. Everything who could mean anything to her. Were there people left? People she loved? Or was she doomed, like Merevaika to live alone? And was she the type who was made to, or did she need others? Pulling her hair down from where it was tucked into her ears, she hung her head, letting it fall over her eyes, hiding the water in her eyes.

She was so weak, and she couldn't help herself. The Drykas moved her hands over her face, wiping away until her eyes were even redder and her palms were damp, wondering why Dira hated her so much. What had she ever done to lose everyone she had been close to? And when she had tried again, she just lost again. The wall she built only had to be built up higher before it all toppled down.

Hand still resting against the boulder, now perfectly still with her palm trying to hide as much as she could, she wondered whether she should answer. Instead, she decided to just respond, ignoring the question. "I am sorry for your loss, I am. I know what it feels like to lose someone." To lose everyone. Refusing to tremble, to be weak, she tensed, letting every muscles tighten and hold herself steady. Her hand became stiff where she pressed it against the paint, and she lifted it away, now bearing the light marks of the newest pain.

The woman's words about snapping was the first time she realised it. Her mind had been so lost, it had taken too long to decipher the noises to match emotions to them too. "I am Merevaika Stormchaser." Turning, she let herself move away, reminding herself that there was nothing she could do. That it was too late, and she had to move on. That she could move on; she had done it before and would again. Her hands moved to grip her cloak tightly, pulling it around her. Face still half obscured by the mane of hair, no memory in sight, she added: "And I was stupid. I don't grieve. I just must apologise."


"Pavi"
Grassland sign
"Common"

[Haena]

Speech
Others

The two woman circled each other. Not as if in battle, nor in physical space. No, they danced around the subject of their hurt, refusing to acknowledge it properly. Haena blurted who she had lost, but not how their loss pained her as deeply as if she had taken a wound to the gut. Merevaika didn't even let the name, or names of the people she missed escape her lips. I just must apologise. So, they danced, even as Haena sank to the floor besides the stranger and reached out to touch the cool stone.

A solitary breath of breeze disturbed the entrance of the tent, pushing a dried blade of grass across the floor. The herbalist bent to pick it up, to clutch it in her grasp as she slowly picked it apart, leaving little flecks of dead grass littering the floor. Silence held in the tent once again, and Haena briefly wondered where the keeper of the stone was, before the thought escaped her again and she lost herself to reverie.

"Why must you apologise?" The question was asked without much hope of an answer. Sometimes people held secrets, or simply didn't want to talk about what they held in the past. She understood that. Her thoughts flickered sharply to Eikre's face, his beautiful, ruggedly handsome face, and she gasped quietly, biting her lip. Eikre, playing with their son Tomas as the sun set. When the bonfire was started, and the festival began. The flowing wine from Riverfall on that special occasion they had been invited to, the wedding of a neighbour. Eikre grinning, with wine wet on his lips. The wicked smirk as he whirled her into a dance she hated, but fell in love with on that night.

"We all lose things, along the way. I should apologise to my family that has been taken from me. I didn't... I... never mind." I didn't show them I loved them enough. Love was a tricky thing. She had never thought to love her husband as much as she had, their marriage had simply been a formal thing at the start. Now, she missed his crooked grins and his rough hands on her face. She missed the way he breathed at night, the softest flutter of a dove that if heard by someone who didn't know him would paint the man as someone softer than he actually was. Gods.

"Make your apology then. I'll leave the tent, if you want. Make your peace."

.

[Merevaika]

Merevaika

"Why must you apologise? The question came with no warning, and without realisation at how it bit away at Merevaika. The woman curled, back arching up as she hunched away, fighting the thoughts. Her hand fell away from the rock, pulled up to her face and she clenched her jaw, repeating the mantra in her head: "don't remember". It hurt too much, and she could stand the pain. She had no way of fighting the guilt that came to her.

She remembered anyway. The thundering of hooves, the child's scream, the slight crack. Eryunt, going wild, her blinking unaware completely. The darkness, people chasing her. Everything, in a whirlwind of sense and sensations. And she couldn't fight it, letting herself shake visibly with fear of the memory.

The other woman spoke of apologising, as if she knew what she felt. She didn't. How could she? She had nothing to apologise for, because she had not done anything wrong. Unlike Merevaika. The anger bubbling inside her, the Drykas pulled her hand into fist, feeling her nails dig into her palm. Without being able to stop herself, she turned sharply, eyes turned to slits and a fire behind them.

"You have nothing to apologise for!" she hissed, but not wanting to drive the woman off. Being alone with this was too much. Despite everything, she needed Haena to stay with her. That didn't stop her from snapping, pushing her emotions onto the woman. "You've done nothing wrong!" Nothing compared to her. Nothing.

The woman, after her little outburst, pressed her knuckles into the dirt in the ground beside her, and trying to calm herself. Her entire body shook, with something she couldn't understand, and she turned again, letting her hair, short as it was, swing in front of her eyes. No wraps. It was still odd. Not too long ago, his would have been added too, added to the multitude of others. But now she was empty. She was free.

She was meant to be free.

"Not like me," she finally whispered, voice cracking and little louder than her deep and heavy breaths, "Please, stay."




"Pavi"
Grassland sign
"Common"