Ialari made a motion with her hand as to dismiss Cleon’s apology regarding his misunderstanding of her language. Such a thing was of little concern for her as she was fully aware that her lack of interaction with living beings would inevitably result in some misunderstandings
When he asked if she were a goddess, Ialari raised an eyebrow and chuckled softly. “A goddess? If only. No, the divine have a far better grasp on their own existence than I could ever hope to have. I am…or…well…I am complicated. Never have I thought myself as being anything other than…unusual. Sometimes…sometimes I wish I were either more “normal.” I would make my life so much easier. I am not a goddess but…” Ialari paused to consider her thoughts.
“I am not a goddess but I often wonder what I really am. I have seen things, done things and am able to do things that no mortal I’ve ever met is capable of. Though…it all comes at a price…” She looked down at the sand she sat on and momentarily marveled at the feeling of sitting on it. Reality, her reality, was both confusing and intriguing at once. Every little thing, mundane as it might be, she experienced in ways that continued to surprise her.
When Cleon joined her in sitting on the beach, she smiled. It was a connection she’d not expected. Although she was rather ignorant to the details of social interactions with living beings due to the distance she created from them, she was no fool. She could feel the struggle that Cleon was experiencing even if she didn’t understand the nature of it. The way he moved, the tone of his voice when he spoke; she could feel his anxiety.
When Cleon mentioned the person they both could not quite remember yet felt like they should, she struggled to wrap her mind around it all. How could she forget someone who felt so connected to her? The Protea Inn? She would have to visit the place. Perhaps it would spark more of a memory. Then he mentioned her marks. At his words, they all seemed to present themselves with a slight throbbing to her flesh.
Looking down at her own body while trying to look past the decayed, rotting appearance that her curse had brought upon her, Ialari nodded. “Indeed. These are marks from the divine. I’ve had numerous…encounters I believe you call them, with the gods. They have revealed so much to me as far as who and what I am and why I am the way I am…if that makes any sense at all…I doubt it does. I see their marks as a sign of acceptance and support.” She ran her non-metallic fingers down her metallic arm and the elaborate markings that decorated it.
These are the marks of Izurdin, the Divine Father of the Isur. He has favored me with two of his marks. While all Isur are born with his mark, a number of us find his favor for a number of reasons. While I am not entirely sure why he favors me, I acquired such a favor after having sacrificed hatred for faith. It’s a long story but I was once consumed with immense hatred. It was a powerful force in my life for some time before I was faced with a choice…give in to it and die or embrace something else. I chose the something else and found…well…I found a different direction for my life. His mark allows me to impart a bit of myself upon the things I create with my own hands.”
Ialari offered a crooked smile at the memory. She then raised her hand and turned her palm upright to reveal the sickle-shaped mark etched in her skin.
“This one…this is the mark of Death…of Dira. I made a deal with her that I would prove myself worthy of receiving the knowledge of a great secret; one that dealt with things far beyond what mortals were…well…it was something that mortals screwed up untold centuries ago. In the end, it seems I succeeded and she blessed me not just with her mark but a puzzle that would lead to a greater understanding of myself. Through the mark, I am more connected to the dead and dying. I can see the last moments of one’s life and sense the presence of those who, for whatever reason, cannot pass on to the next life.” She silently cursed herself for not being able to articulate the whole thing better but the experience was not exactly one that she could easily put into words.
Moving on to the mark on the flesh of her metallic arm, she traced the mark of the tree. “This one…it is the mark of Caiyha, Goddess of Nature. I endured seven days of surviving, completely naked and with only the simplest of tools, on a set of islands in the middle of the sea. I nearly died…or maybe I did die, I’m still not sure. In the end however, I made my way from one island to another while being attacked by a shark.” She raised her arm to show the terrible scars impressed upon her flesh.
“I awoke to Caiyha’s grace. I was healed and presented with experiencing the beginning of all things. The First Tree…the first living thing ever to exist. From it…I was presented with a seed.” Ialari swallowed hard before continuing. “It changed me while also giving me some…insight I think you call it…into the concept of balance. All things exist…or are supposed to exist in balance. A constant struggle that plays out every day.” The feeling she’d been having that told her deep down to simply let go, once again cried out for release. This caused her to shuffle a bit and stretch her neck; the muscles and joints creating a soft yet audible pop.
“Finally, there is Tanroa. Although not as obvious, her mark has been etched on my eyes. She blessed me with the ability to travel upstream along the river of time. I can observe the past and see things that have already happened. The sight is limited but it is what I hope may help me discover the source of these curses.” Ialari once more tried to fight back the growing hunger caused by the seed of the First Tree planted inside.
Her hand already touching his, Ialari went further and took hold of his hand. The feeling of her metallic flesh on his own was somewhat cold yet…pliable? It felt like metal or stone but also like skin in an odd contradiction. She allowed herself to lean into him and laid her head against his shoulder. Her metallic hand began to trace the scars upon his body. Although he would not be able to see it immediately, Ialari’s eyes blinked and her iris’ grew slitted.
Words: 1145
When he asked if she were a goddess, Ialari raised an eyebrow and chuckled softly. “A goddess? If only. No, the divine have a far better grasp on their own existence than I could ever hope to have. I am…or…well…I am complicated. Never have I thought myself as being anything other than…unusual. Sometimes…sometimes I wish I were either more “normal.” I would make my life so much easier. I am not a goddess but…” Ialari paused to consider her thoughts.
“I am not a goddess but I often wonder what I really am. I have seen things, done things and am able to do things that no mortal I’ve ever met is capable of. Though…it all comes at a price…” She looked down at the sand she sat on and momentarily marveled at the feeling of sitting on it. Reality, her reality, was both confusing and intriguing at once. Every little thing, mundane as it might be, she experienced in ways that continued to surprise her.
When Cleon joined her in sitting on the beach, she smiled. It was a connection she’d not expected. Although she was rather ignorant to the details of social interactions with living beings due to the distance she created from them, she was no fool. She could feel the struggle that Cleon was experiencing even if she didn’t understand the nature of it. The way he moved, the tone of his voice when he spoke; she could feel his anxiety.
When Cleon mentioned the person they both could not quite remember yet felt like they should, she struggled to wrap her mind around it all. How could she forget someone who felt so connected to her? The Protea Inn? She would have to visit the place. Perhaps it would spark more of a memory. Then he mentioned her marks. At his words, they all seemed to present themselves with a slight throbbing to her flesh.
Looking down at her own body while trying to look past the decayed, rotting appearance that her curse had brought upon her, Ialari nodded. “Indeed. These are marks from the divine. I’ve had numerous…encounters I believe you call them, with the gods. They have revealed so much to me as far as who and what I am and why I am the way I am…if that makes any sense at all…I doubt it does. I see their marks as a sign of acceptance and support.” She ran her non-metallic fingers down her metallic arm and the elaborate markings that decorated it.
These are the marks of Izurdin, the Divine Father of the Isur. He has favored me with two of his marks. While all Isur are born with his mark, a number of us find his favor for a number of reasons. While I am not entirely sure why he favors me, I acquired such a favor after having sacrificed hatred for faith. It’s a long story but I was once consumed with immense hatred. It was a powerful force in my life for some time before I was faced with a choice…give in to it and die or embrace something else. I chose the something else and found…well…I found a different direction for my life. His mark allows me to impart a bit of myself upon the things I create with my own hands.”
Ialari offered a crooked smile at the memory. She then raised her hand and turned her palm upright to reveal the sickle-shaped mark etched in her skin.
“This one…this is the mark of Death…of Dira. I made a deal with her that I would prove myself worthy of receiving the knowledge of a great secret; one that dealt with things far beyond what mortals were…well…it was something that mortals screwed up untold centuries ago. In the end, it seems I succeeded and she blessed me not just with her mark but a puzzle that would lead to a greater understanding of myself. Through the mark, I am more connected to the dead and dying. I can see the last moments of one’s life and sense the presence of those who, for whatever reason, cannot pass on to the next life.” She silently cursed herself for not being able to articulate the whole thing better but the experience was not exactly one that she could easily put into words.
Moving on to the mark on the flesh of her metallic arm, she traced the mark of the tree. “This one…it is the mark of Caiyha, Goddess of Nature. I endured seven days of surviving, completely naked and with only the simplest of tools, on a set of islands in the middle of the sea. I nearly died…or maybe I did die, I’m still not sure. In the end however, I made my way from one island to another while being attacked by a shark.” She raised her arm to show the terrible scars impressed upon her flesh.
“I awoke to Caiyha’s grace. I was healed and presented with experiencing the beginning of all things. The First Tree…the first living thing ever to exist. From it…I was presented with a seed.” Ialari swallowed hard before continuing. “It changed me while also giving me some…insight I think you call it…into the concept of balance. All things exist…or are supposed to exist in balance. A constant struggle that plays out every day.” The feeling she’d been having that told her deep down to simply let go, once again cried out for release. This caused her to shuffle a bit and stretch her neck; the muscles and joints creating a soft yet audible pop.
“Finally, there is Tanroa. Although not as obvious, her mark has been etched on my eyes. She blessed me with the ability to travel upstream along the river of time. I can observe the past and see things that have already happened. The sight is limited but it is what I hope may help me discover the source of these curses.” Ialari once more tried to fight back the growing hunger caused by the seed of the First Tree planted inside.
Her hand already touching his, Ialari went further and took hold of his hand. The feeling of her metallic flesh on his own was somewhat cold yet…pliable? It felt like metal or stone but also like skin in an odd contradiction. She allowed herself to lean into him and laid her head against his shoulder. Her metallic hand began to trace the scars upon his body. Although he would not be able to see it immediately, Ialari’s eyes blinked and her iris’ grew slitted.
Words: 1145
