Infinite Distances (Kam, Grom, Satu)

[Satu]

“It will be a floating festival!” called Satu from where she stood at the worn rail. Overhearing Avayra’s suggestion she had nodded along with Gromhir’s approval. “We could transform the upper deck into a splendid stage. With sheets or extra sails…” She didn’t really know what extra supplies a ship might carry, but with a little searching and help from the Captain, surely they could find something useful. “Sailors must do something interesting to pass the tranquil hours. What do they do I wonder?”

Satu, not normally a fan of festivals with their multitudes of people and chaos, found that here within the confinement of the ship, she craved activity. The trapped feeling grew, and without the distraction of movement; she was likely to perceive everyone’s emotions more readily. It was not loud in her heart yet, but without a diversion, it would continue to build.

“I do not know stories, or poems,” she admitted, “though I am a good listener.” Written and spoken words were not her strong suit. People were not drawn to her through speech, in her mind she was too simple to inspire awe through words alone, as probably the Timandre sisters did. “But songs are nice and everyone loves to dance, do they not?” Who would not want to lose themselves to a musical rhythm, to be free in spirit and limb, as the beat of an instrument pounded through the blood?

“And friendly competition is always welcome,” Satu added with a grin, as she moved closer to the three. “I would very much like to see what the sailors train with. But we can always practice on our own if they are not willing." Surprising as it was, the suvai fighter had never sparred with a man before. She was both concerned and excited at the prospect of a new and unfamiliar opponent.

Satu turned her head, to hear Gromhir say, “I am not sure Kamalia will be joining us without a rest though?” The HeartSeer felt what she was sure the Ivaski felt also. The young wizard did hold the sadness in her and Satu’s eyes misted in response as it threatened to build atop her own sadness about leaving the island behind them.

[Kamalia Timandre]

Bullion sunrise framed a beauteous spectacle; the sapphire sea dazzled serenely beneath the unruffled cumulus of clouds, and the waves of Vaska heaved and fell slowly with grand, majestic sighs. More wondrous than the lore of man and the lore of books were the mysteries of the ocean. To a human sailor, one cannot cross life by merely standing and staring at the waves. Either you decide to stay in the shallow end of the expanse or you go out into the ocean. To a konti, as a daughter of Laviku, life begins and ends in the sea. She would not need to sail across the ocean for she was part of its realm and in its depths she would find a sanctuary. Such thought, however, did little to soothe the konti reimancer’s troubles.

Kamalia buried her face against Avayra’s shoulder, clinging to her sister as if borrowing her strength until the silent, invisible tears had run their course. Her thin body shook in convulsive sobs, but her grief was all the more terrible for being tearless. Avayra’s words of comfort only fell on deaf ears. She would feel that her elder sister was too exhausted, too nauseated by the sea of emotions engulfing her weary heart. Such was the aftermath of the sadness and the bereavement she felt. It would take plenty of courage to release the familiar and seemingly secure, to embrace the new and accept the unknown. There was no real refuge, no real sanctuary in elusive, half-forgotten dreams. There was more security in the unforeseen, for in movement there was life, and in change there was power.

It was apparent Kamalia was in no mood for any kind of festivity. What was there to celebrate, anyway? She wanted peace of mind. She longed for repose. For the first time in her life, Kamalia wished she could just fade like an evanescent dream. Would these aching emotions vanish, as well? Kamalia turned to face her sister, but her violet eyes, once vibrant with the passion for life, were distant and vacant. “I would like to be accorded some respite and solitude,” she murmured weakly. She wanted nothing but to plunge into a sea-deep slumber and dream of infinite distances.

The Seer In Distant Shores In the pleasure groves of Syliras far to be found is Mura's most priceless star; velvet drapes the tones of her lovely form upon which searching eyes would be the norm. And oh, how I feel what beseeches her, to hide behind that silk gossamer lovely and fey is but the couture of her grand ambitions' grander overtures. Avalis' blessed rays shine forth from this truly wondrous avatar of her love and bliss Yet at times she seemed to have even captured the moon god's luminance and nature; Stoic in bearing, but wild in her wrath weaving icy breezes she calms the path of the forests and trees that she traversed. Thus all things feral round her are dispersed. Great long walks have converged her spirits here in the city of man her name speaks clear. The Konti's form drew all sighs and succor they in every manner threw their lots to her. But how away does her charming gaze seem amidst the bright parade of the place; Entreaties shall bring her no joy to cease the longing softness that her features tease. As light as the serenade sings to you, each twinkle in your eye is dabbed with blue why does moisture cross your eyes sweet one, when you walk a life of pleasure and fun? Rhaus' orchestra muse her senses with the ancient lores and Valterrian myth, yet not in the music does she confide in more flawed lullabies does she reside. Pliant and gentle is the ivory that grace her skin with opalescence with silent sonatas she sings to me, of such lighter times in reminiscence. The waves of Suva's seas stretch on and on Leaving her with but mem'ries to hold. Yet twilight finds her still with the sun Syna shining through the dark, absent cold. What in perfection, dear princess of light grieves you so to cast it on men of might? Your ruby lips speak so eloquently of such radiant, gilded captivity, manifesting on such sad, poignant smiles. You weave these in daft contradiction to the ice and winds you cast with perfection. Each ounce of flesh and skin tremble gently behind that silken veil that shrouds your body; blind as it is to your perusing, you call it a curse when it seems a blessing. Knowledge made you hunger for adventure, and it brought you to paths of stormy rapture. The white isle is now but a dream far away, and the world closes you in its folds to stay. A lark in the night with silvery hair, repository of dreams yet to bear, what allures brought you to walk the world of mortality, trials and mishaps so rough? Ambition boils you in its scalding call yet all too happily you are enthralled. Truly you shine as glorious as day, sweet lady Kamalia Timandre.

Secret :

Thank you, Sorian for the lovely poem!

[Aselia Timandre]

With surprise and shock Avayra realized that Kamalia was crying. Her tears were silent and her sobs sweet, but nevertheless she cried. Avayra started to think that her sister was the one who was connected to Mura, their home and their people the most. Obviously the departure was the most depressing for her. Yes, rest would do her good, as Gromhir suggested. Thus she let her go without any further words. If Kamalia needed rest, she should get it and decide on her own whether she wanted to join them later or not.

Then her attention turned to the Gromhir and Satu. She very much appreciated their enthusiasm for her idea, although she had assumed their reaction before. Still she liked to be the one coming up with ideas and leading the group. If Kamalia was the one to possess the intelligence and knowledge, Avayra was the one with the charisma and communication skill. Or so she liked to see herself.

To Satu’s question she replied: “I’m sure they have a couple of intriguing tales of ghosts and sea beasts.” Her dark violet eyes sparkled with energy. Although she had never sailed on a real ship before, she had loved hanging out with the sailors at the harbor. Their lives were so much interesting than the peaceful Konti philosophy. She didn’t despise her people, but young as she was, she always felt the desire to venture out and explore the world to find her true passion. Not having anything she really enjoyed to do could lead to a feeling of emptiness. Usually she did quite a good job at avoiding that feeling by keeping herself occupied with all sorts of tasks and missions.

Just like the festival they were about to plan. Smiling to the others, Avayra suggested: “So, everyone knows what we want to do, so we could part and plan the various necessary aspects with the sailors. Well, first we’ll have to talk to the captain, but I don’t think that would be a problem.” As always, she was slipping into the leading position, although she would accept ideas and suggestions if they appeared. “Gromhir, would you take care of the location part? I like the idea of a stage … perhaps you could prepare separate locations for the different disciplines? Some security for the battling area, for example.” After speaking with the Kelvic, she turned to Satu. “And would you like to organize everything? The competitions need to have a certain order and such … Perhaps someone could write the necessary information down and place it where everyone can see it? I myself will talk the sailors into joining our festivities …” She grinned, showing her self-confidence. “Of course I’ll help where help is needed. Are you all right with this arrangement?”

Although she couldn’t imagine why someone was not, she would wait for their replies. Then she would turn around and lead them towards upper deck where she had seen the captain talking to one of his subordinates before. Hopefully he would have an open ear for their request.

OOCWhoever wants to mod the captain and sailors, feel free to do so. I think we should skip the preparation and continue with the beginning of the festival after the discussion with the captain.

[Gromhir]

Something in Gromhir died seeing Kamalia in pain like this. It clawed at his insides like some ravenous creature of nightmare and fear. He was powerless and that feeling itself was frightening enough. He was powerless to help his mistress. She had taken such good care of him when he needed it and now he found he could not offer the same. There must have been something he could do, something he could say to help but nothing came to mind. He managed to pull his mind away long enough to hear Avayra’s words to him.

He managed a simple nod in response, clearly trying to formulate some kind of sentence in the turmoil that was his mind. “I will do as you ask,” he replied in a more monotonous voice than he would have liked. “I will see Kamalia to her quarters while you speak with the Captain.” The last sentence sounded more human but only because it was the only thought on his mind. He could not let Kamalia go alone, not while she was like this. It is not what he wanted.

Did that really just cross his mind? Why was he so selfish as to think that what he wanted mattered? Nature had presented him with a choice and he was not sure which was best. It was his duty to protect Kamalia but he knew she needed rest. How would him being there help? Surely, it would be better him going with the others to speak with the Captain. He could get started right away then. But no, he wanted to be with Kamalia, at least until she slept soundly, lost in her dreams.

Gromhir bowed his head in respect to the others and placed his arm around Kamalia. There was no need for words or misspoken phrases. Gromhir was there, a fortress trying to protect her from the outside world. Though right now he felt he had failed at that task, he was not about to give up. He led her below deck to their shared quarters at her pace, however slow or fast she wished. He opened the door to the small cabin and allowed her to enter first. He then stepped inside closing the door behind her.

He stood in silence, unsure of what to say or do. He didn’t know if anything he could do would calm her and ease her into the sleep she so desired.



The Captain bore all the trappings of one who was a veteran of the seas. His greying hair was an untameable mess somehow pulled into a ponytail, yet surprisingly; he had no true beard to speak off. His skin was coarse and rough from life at the sea and bore markings and scars from the challenges he had faced and still did. His eyes were a misty and pale blue and it was clear they had seen the dark side of Laviku’s seas, yet the old man had welcomed them aboard with a glint of happiness in his eyes.

He was speaking with his helmsman as the two white maidens approached, he seemingly did not notice them until they were right behind him. He spun round and gave a laugh. It was clear he was a man who loved what he did. His eyes lit up as they came to rest on the two beautiful ladies before him. “It would seem y’be missing the couple, Lasses. I hope that me crew hasn’t driven them off. Or are they below having a good time?” He spoke in what could only be described as an irish accent.

“The sea is a calm today,” he turned his gaze back across the bow of the ship. “I would think Laviku was watching over his daughters on their journey away from home.” He turned back to them. “But I would wager me good eye that you haven’t come for idle chat, have you?”


OOCI call dibs on the captain xD. But I would be inclined to agree.

[Satu]

The Captain was not old by Konti standards, but to Satu’s eyes he appeared much farther along than his years. Konti women were not considered old until they reached two hundred, but this man had to be half that age and already he sported wild, grey hairs and a multitude of fine lines about his face. The weathering of Laviku’s sea was unmistakable as his skin was rough from the elements. Coarse hair and a rough beard hugged his chin. The Konti wanted to reach out softly and touch his face like a curious child and feel the scratch against her fingertips. Men were such curious creatures, and never had she seen the likes of a man like this before. Satu tried not to stare.

She found him fascinating, and also to his credit, he exuded happiness. She welcomed the feeling and embraced it wholeheartedly. Though her teachers would have disagreed, Satu found it useful to interchange or discard her emotions, for the happier emotions of people around her. Replacing her sad and aching Heart for something more cheerful was an easy answer to combat the sadness she felt upon leaving her Isle. The teachers warned it was not a prudent way to cope with her inner emotions, but she ignored them.

Blushing, the Captain teased the Konti about Kamalia and Gromhir’s absence, Satu smiled briefly into his misty eyes, and she thought she could see the younger man he had been within them. She was not yet accustomed to sailors and their blunt and suggestive speech. But the Captain was perceptive; she had also felt new emotions coming in to play around the bonded pair. The Ivaksi’s emotions fluctuated between protectiveness and a strange confusion and the two swirled around him, intertwined. She wondered what it meant.

“Laviku watches always, he is our protective father,” Satu answered, pleased to think that the ship’s Captain also honoured Laviku, "He can not turn a blind eye towards us, his daughters. But as a man of the sea, you are also in his eye.”

“We have come to ask a question,” Satu continued before the other Konti had spoken. Avayla had taken charge of their little party and Satu was glad of it. It simplified life since she lacked the desire to lead anyway, with all its countless plannings and deadlines. It was known by Satu’s friends, that when multiple personalities were involved in any given assemblage, Satu had trouble focusing.

But surprisingly, she wished to engage this Captain, so she continued, “Honourable Captain,” she said formally, unsure of how to address him. “We wish to hold a Festival. With your permission of course, to pass the idle hours of travel at sea. It would benefit both the Konti and your fine sailors.” And silently, she thought to also distract the Konti women from their sadness and loss. “First, we shall have the stories and songs. Then singing and dancing. And perhaps a little play, if there is interest. And then to finish, a weapons competition with sparring. If you agree, I would be more than happy to post a sign or two for your men.” Satu looked at him expectantly; of course he would agree there was no reason for him not to. She harboured no doubts about that.

[Kamalia Timandre]

As Gromhir led her to the privacy of their hold belowdecks, Kamalia leaned back into the reassuring circle of his arm. The pair trod at a very slow pace as each step seemed to require immense effort from the konti lady. Too crippled, too heartsick by the turn of her fate and the recent events, she craved for nothing now but to weep herself to a forgetful sleep and let her nonexistent tears to run their course. The girl felt so light, so vulnerable and fragile against the man’s form, almost limp as a discarded garment. She was not ready for this, unprepared for the tumult of overwhelming emotions that ravaged her heart and psyche. The girl had always prided herself for being tough and strong, and many in the Konti Isle had depended on her for this. Only now had she felt so weak, so defenseless, wretched and pathetic. By the time they reached their cabin in the ship, Kamalia flung herself facedown on her bed, nestling herself into the pillows.

A single glass-covered portal, not much wider than the palm of Gromhir’s hand, admitted a narrow stream of light into their cabin. The dim light, softened by the cumulous cotton clouds into a rosy glow, did little to diminish the claustrophobic gloom of the room. The young wizard had never known despair but it closed in on her now. The walls of their room tightened, too, until they threatened to swallow the meager light the ship window provided. “Stay with me for a while,” Kamalia said weakly and tiredly, seating herself bolt upright on the bed. Through the transparent window of Gromhir’s sapphire eyes, she read his profound pain and rigid helplessness. She wanted to throw herself into his arms, wishing to find solace in the closeness they knew. “I need you here.”

If Gromhir chose to stay, Kamalia would cry herself to sleep in his arms, burying her face against his chest until this pain, these strange emotions vanished away. She would take comfort in the strength of his embrace, the symbol of the steadfast love and companionship for her that was her lifeline. She needed that strength right now, and she would clasp his hand fervently as she clung to him. Never had the proud and solitary konti wizard poured forth her heart so completely. It was a sharing that surpassed even that of a lover, and a bond that equaled the divine vows of Cheva. Soon enough, the konti would plunge into an ocean-deep slumber—a temporary refuge from all those raging storms of emotion. In sleep, Kamalia looked tiny, fragile—utterly unlike the fierce, powerful being who channeled such fearsome magic.

[Gromhir]

The guardian stood rigid just inside the door as his charge threw herself to the bed. His insides churned as he felt every ounce of turmoil that wracked her small, fragile form. He didn’t like her when she was like this. It caused her as much pain as it did him but it was not something he could switch off with Kamalia. He could feel her emotions all the time he was with her and it had been a hard concept to come to terms with at first. Times like these were hard on both of them but each had to remain strong for the other.

As Kamalia pulled herself bolt upright, Gromhir stepped forward but hesitated. He wanted to take her in his arms and allow her to rest. How strange things could change over time. The last time he had been in pain like this was the reason they were in this mess now. If he’d been more vigil, if he’d realised that he was being led into a trap, they wouldn’t be here now. Kamalia wouldn’t be grieving the loss of her home if it weren’t for him. He had been so careless and stupid to follow those obvious tracks through the white woods. He could have protected her; he should have been the one to protect her. Not Satu, not her sisters, him. He had failed her and she had been exiled because of it. He resolved to leave her in peace until she spoke.

She needed him? He moved over to her, taking her graceful and beautiful frame in his powerful but gentle embrace. “The last time you needed me, I was not able to help,” He spoke solemnly. He’d vowed himself never to let that happen again. He’d never again see her hurt because of him and his mistakes. Kamalia had shown him so much, taught him about the world as he had her. She had shown him kindness and compassion when he could find none left in this world. He would not admit it to her but he needed her as much as she needed him. He could not think where he would be without her.

The wizards sobbed quietly into his chest. Their hands intertwined and Gromhir carefully caressed her long, dextrous fingers; the instruments of her divine wrath. Gromhir placed his lips against the silver-white hair atop her head the nuzzled her gently as he would in Ivaski form to show he was there. He closed his eyes. He was not one to pray but with all his heart, he hoped that Nature would guide them safely to Syliras and help to protect her while she was there.

[Aselia Timandre]

OOCI'm sorry for the delay! Was busy with school and other accounts.

Avayra was watching the inner conflict Gromhir seemed to have. It was obvious that he wanted to follow his bondmate, calm her down, comfort her, do anything for her that would help. She felt the same to a certain degree, but only because they were of the same blood – it wasn’t comparable to that powerful bond the Konti and the Kelvic shared. She was neither surprised nor offended when he somehow failed to explain that he was uncomfortable, but decided that someone had to help him along.

“Of course, if you think that Kamalia really needs you right now”, she added, “there are enough strong men who can help us too.” And then she watched him go with her and hoped that he could really do something for her sister. Kamalia had to let her feelings out before the wounds could heal. That was common knowledge, at least for Avayra.

Anyway, Satu and she approached the captain, an elderly man with a rough appearance. Oh, the tales he certainly knew! Hopefully he would not only allow their festival, but join as well and enrich the attractions with his own stories and skill! It was clear to her that there were many things he could teach them. And unlike Satu, she found his age not only fascinating, but also some kind of insightful. There were so many things she still had to learn – the difference was that the Konti had more time for learning and specializing.

Her attention turned back to the talk. Satu was just telling him about the festival, and Avayra merely nodded along. When the other Konti was finished, she smiled and added: “I assure you that this will be a relaxing event both for your sailors and for us. Traveling with people you know and sympathize with is much more enjoyable than avoiding interaction. I have a feeling that you know that already, though.”

Then she closed her mouth, thinking that everything had been said. To be honest, she could think of no reason why the festival should not be allowed. Additionally, the captain seemed like the type that enjoyed festivals as much as hard work. His laughter sounded honest and truly catching.

[Gromhir]

The Captain laughed heartily at Satu’s words. “The Sea God has no time for an old sailor like me when he has so many beautiful daughters to watch over. But it is comforting to hear that.” He turned his warm gaze away from Satu as she asked her question. He chuckled quietly to himself, the idea of his suggest clearly playing out in his mind.

“I thank you for your kind words, my dear,” he replied as a father would to a daughter. “Your distant friend speaks true.” It was strange to think that the man had managed to sum both of the Konti up with a mere glance in their direction. But such ability was a boon when you commandeered a sea vessel. It was one honed over time and years of experience as much as it was a natural gift to read people.

He turned back to them, grinning broadly from ear to ear. “I would hear the tales you and your companions have to tell and I would see my men tests themselves against your skills. I believe it would even be good for your Kelvic, maybe no weapons for him though,” he beamed, clasping his old hands together. “I would wager I could spin a few good tales of my own. It would be my honour to be host to such a festival.”

“Aye, the ol’ Cap’n can spin a tale better than us all,” the helmsman spoke up from his vigil. “Dun go believin’ a word.” The Captain gave a hearty laugh at his crewman’s words.

“Yes, well, let us not get in to that story and save it for the festival.”

[Satu]

A hand lettered sign adorned with curly-cues of varying dimensions, painted blue sea flowers, and jumping dolphins, appeared on each of the masts aboard the ship. They were hard to miss with decorations not seen normally aboard a sailing vessel. The lettering was flawless and feminine and the parchment smelled faintly of sweet incense; though with the strong ocean breeze it was quickly dispersing. A few sailors, unable to read took special interest in just the smelling of the parchment. It read as follows:

Greetings Good Sailors,

With great Delight, your Esteemed Captain,
&
the Konti passengers,
Wish to Invite You to

~A Floating Festival~

Amusements to pass the Idle hours at Sea.
The Festivities will begin promptly on the 2nd bell midday.


A Variety of Delightful Entertainment will be provided by
your Fellow Shipmates and Passengers.


Diversions shall Include:
Stories & Tall Tales
Singing
Music and Dance
Weapons Demonstrations & Competitions
(with Friendly Sparring)

Please Bring Instruments, Voices and Weapons

-------------------------

Armed with a pot and a large wooden spoon acquired from the ships cook, Satu was ready. She glanced to the Captain, blue eyes sparkling and thumped on the pot loudly. Not quite sure how she ended up on the makeshift stage, she enjoyed the view greatly. Her HeartSense was content to be lifted with the enthusiasm from the small crowd below. There were whistles and cheers from the sailors in their excitement, but the men quieted down quickly when the pot-drum sounded. She could sense the efforts it took for the men to be on their best behaviour for the Konti passengers.

All eyes focused on Satu and she smiled happily across the deck. Even cradling such a mundane object as the pot, the Konti was radiant as the sunshine caressed her skin. “Before we begin, I do believe it is fitting for us to praise Laviku. As it his thoughtfulness that provides us with this peaceful water journey.”

Balancing the pot in her lap, Satu spread her arms wide as she lifted them in supplication, into the air. Honouring the Water Father she brought her hands together in front of her Heart, palms touching lightly. The sweet, pink of love filled her, as her gaze settled on the water surrounding them, “Keep thine eyes upon me, as I travel away from You!” She whispered, thinking of the long, waterless journey ahead of her.

As she opened her palms once more, she returned to the pot, thumping on it twice. Satu was beginning to enjoy her little instrument. “It is only natural that your most estimable Captain begin the Festival,” she laughed. “And he has offered to tell a story…” she began amid hoots and ribbing from the sailors, but Satu could tell, the men were all pleased.

She herself had no stories or songs to share, but was excited nonetheless. Her body yearned for dancing and gaily playing music. And to test herself in the weapons competition, that would be something, as Satu had never actually sparred with a man before. She had a mind to try her hand at unarmed combat too since she definitely needed practice in that regard as well.

The drum sounded once more as the men began to cheer for their Captain to enter the stage and Satu eagerly awaited the day’s first story.