Spring Blossoms (Kamalia, Closed)

[Gromhir]

1st Day of Spring, 510 AV

The biting cold of winter winds was finally passing. Syna climbed higher in the sky each day and her warmth melted the ice that covered the land under her glow. Green shoots of new life sprung from the depths, ready to grow towards the heavens once more, eager to feel the sun god’s warmth. Vibrant hues of green, purple, red, yellow and blue burst open throughout the land and all was well and happy in Mizahar. The blooming of the flowers and trees signalled new life and new beginnings in places that were no longer so foreign.

It may not have been the snow that crunched satisfyingly beneath his paws but the change into spring was still one of his favourite things about winter. The darkened skies gave way to bright and beautiful colours. His cloak blended well with his surroundings now and even in his human form, happiness filled him. He was taken back to the happy memories of his past and it made him think of the happy ones he was going to make.

The Kelvic had begun to adapt to a more human way of living now. But nothing would ever compare to the wilds themselves. They were glorious and wonderful in all their splendour, but even then, they paled in comparison to his bondmate’s beauty. The figure wrapped so delicately in cloak of snow white deceived people about the true power behind her violet eyes. Her graceful form flowed like the fresh water in the streams of spring. Her silver hair flowed around her like a gown woven by Leth’s hand.

In comparison, the Kelvic was quite a rough figure. Taller and more toned than she but he had to be. He was her sworn protector, she his dearest and closest friend. It was not simply a duty to be around her, it was a joy and was something he did not take lightly. But his broad smile and cerulean eyes showed the true happiness that shone brightly in the Kelvic’s young heart. As they walked side by side, he wrapped an arm around her waist and looked to her.

“There is beauty all around me again today,” he looked back to their path through the woods. “I am glad to be here.”

[Kamalia Timandre]

The frozen earth awakened and flung off its glittering bedspread of silver, and the fair vernal flowers sprang and laughed forth their ancient mirth. No winter lasts forever, no spring skips its turn, but had there been no winter, would spring be so enchanting and long-awaited? If we did not sometimes taste of bitter adversity, would prosperity be this welcoming? With the advent of spring, and the beginning of the new harvest season, the creators of abundance come out to the fields to sow with good aspirations and hope. Oh, how beautiful, how rewarding was the sweet kiss of Tivaku just like a lover who returned to a damsel bereft of his embrace!

The Bronze Wood lay calm on the flanks of the Cobalt Mountains, stretching northward from the stone citadel of Syliras all the way to the borders of the Taldera Region. Kamalia had rarely experienced snow, for such phenomenon was a rarity in the Konti Isle. While a dazzling white and freezing winter had mesmerized the young konti for quite some time, it got the point where she began to loathe the dread of snow and the ice-crisp air. She had long craved for the world to cast off the wintry mantle Morwen had draped upon and let Caiyha lace her plants and flowers anew across Mizahar in a verdant paradise.

How nostalgic, this Bronze Wood. It was so unlike the luminous silver groves of Mura, but walking through it reminded her of fey homeland nonetheless. Here, the trees did not shimmer in the moonlight, nor did the flowers shone in the night, and while there was a diverse, fascinating wildlife to be seen here, the konti maiden found herself wistful and once again longing to traverse the spellbinding coniferous forests of the White Isle. There was no sanctuary like the Silver Woods—its sundrenched glades and moonlight clearings, its gentle tinkling streams and whispering trees. She remembered how she explored it for the very first time in her life, and getting lost in the silver labyrinth of luminous trees. She could vividly recall the first instance when she and Gromhir hunted in the Silver Woods, happening upon an unfortunate doe.

Syna often bathed those woodlands in an ethereal glow, and their everwhite tree trunks seem to glimmer with her bullion touch. By this time of the year, the Vian trees effloresce trumpet-shaped blossoms that were a wonder to behold. Kamalia’s shoulders rose and fell in a deep sigh at the realization she would no longer see such marvels.

Her wistful reverie was stolen away from her by her kelvic bondmate as he laced a strong arm around her slender waist. It was not the deciduous trees the color of gold and bronze muting into greens that would cling to Kamalia’s memory. It was Gromhir’s cerulean eyes and broad grin that meandered between hilarious and poignant. One would almost think he had finally found the purpose of life. His words educed a shocked laughter from the girl. It was strange, hearing the word ‘beauty” escape from the kelvic’s lips. “Amazing!" Kamalia said in a playful, mocking tone. "Did Damien also teach you pick-up lines? Flattery, perhaps? You are the last person I would ask in the matters of beauty!

[Gromhir]

Hearing her laugh, Gromhir looked saddened for a brief moment before he realised what she meant by her words to him. He looked down, blushing slightly, he knew she had divination but how did she know he’d asked for help in making her smile. “No, not Damien,” He replied sheepishly. “Fentya told me to say that. But I meant every word.”

Gromhir looked back to his bondmate. There was a sincerity in his blue eyes that she had never seen before. The man looked back out to their surroundings, he seemed truly happy to be out here. He may have normally been happy with Kamalia but today there was a bounce in his step, even in human form. There was no tenseness in his body, he was completely relaxed and seemed to flow off him in waves.

“I like the springtime,” He replied after a few moments of silence. “Mayhaps because I was born at this time? I’m fond of the bright colours. The new life that comes with it. The fresh water in the streams that tastes, oh, so delicious. The songs of the birds I can never catch as they laugh at me. They do not compare to your voice but beautiful none the less.”

It happened so suddenly; Kamalia would barely have time to react. The Kelvic pulled away from his bondmate and took her delicate hand firmly in his. His bounced forward towards one of the bushes on the edge of the path. Its leaves were sprouting in buds already but it was not the green pinpricks on the branches that had the Kelvic entranced. Just in front of the bush were the first blooming flowers of spring. A splendid golden yellow stood out starkly against the growth around them. The Kelvic knelt before the flower and ran a finger gently under the petals, collecting the dew on the tip of it.

“Look, this is why Nature is so beautiful,” he looked to his bondmate with almost a childish grin. He tapped the dew off his finger onto Kamalia’s noise before looking back to the flowers. He recalled something Fentya had said while they were in the garden. His hand reached out to the flower once more. Pinching the stem between his finger and thumb, he broke off one of the flowers and reached to place it into Kamalia’s hair.

[Kamalia Timandre]

Seeing her bondmate’s cheeks stained with a crimson flush was both a hilarious and a refreshing sight at best. When did the usually calm and profoundly stoic ivaski start blushing like this? In a corner of her mind, scenes of their first encounter in the easternmost coasts of Sylira reran vibrantly. The konti-girl remembered so well how feral and how unaccustomed Gromhir was with the ways of man. Back then, the male had no sense of modesty, but the kelvic learned so much—way too much—in an astonishingly short span of time. It dawned on the girl how far they had come, from the incident in the Konti Isle to her spell addiction and to their relocation to Syliras. Not too long ago, she had looked to the horizons beyond the gulf of Vaska for a grand adventure. How small and how insignificant those dreams seemed to be now that she and Gromhir lived among humans, even befriending a few of them.

She’d never given much thought to kelvics, too, beyond the realization that if she had met one it would only spark her undying curiosity. The possibility that she might actually bond with such a being had never entered her imagination. Nor did she imagine that she would have a human friend such as Stitch, or she would come to regard the ebullient children at the Welcome Home Orphanage, Fentya, Damien and Trish with a sort of motherly pride and affection she had always sought to give. How odd it all was, Kamalia mused.

The konti burst into siren laughter once again when Gromhir sheepishly admitted that it was Fentya who taught him the words she had never considered would escape the kelvic’s lips. Back in Mura, Gromhir had rarely smiled, and hardly ever jested when they were in the company of other konti people, but here, the man seemed to have learned to beam, to laugh along, to mingle with humans like he was one of them. Gromhir had always been around for Kamalia, and for good or ill, their fates had been entwined together by gods, growing stronger and tougher each moment they spent together. Stronger and stronger their bond grew. “You had only seen Spring once or twice your life! I doubt you even know the exact date of your birth.”

The girl barely had the time to talk more when Gromhir pulled her towards one of the bushes on the edge of their path. She was content to watch the kelvic’s childlike fascination as he touched the vibrant funnel-shaped amaryllis and gathered the dew with the tip of his finger beneath its petals. She gasped when Gromhir tapped the dew onto her shapely nose, and she responded with a feigned pout and mirthful eyes. The maiden smiled at him as he gingerly fastened the amaryllis to the white and silver coils of her hair. “Tell me, Grom. You’re in love, aren’t you? With Aselia, perhaps? Or that Vantha girl in the music shop?” the konti wizard beamed, but the kelvic would sense a subtle sliver of pang and bitterness in her voice. "Tell me or I'm going to have to punish you," she threatened playfully, placing both hands on her hips.

[Gromhir]

As his bondmate burst in to her musical laughter, Gromhir’s reddened cheeks lessened as he too tried to laugh it off. It was different now, compared to back at Mura. The Konti isle was different, it had instilled a peace in him that had prevented him feeling anger but also true happiest. But here, in the wilds, he was free and truly at home. He knew the forests around him were his friends and enemies all at the same time. It was refreshing and had reinvigorated his soul. His time learning human ways had not been squandered. He had learned to feel. But not just anger and sadness, happiness, devotion, all the wonderful things about life as well.

“Should I need to know the exact date?” Gromhir questioned. “I was born in the spring time when the world is reborn again. I know that much, is that not enough? When were you born?” It was strange, he knew. It only ever happened when he was alone with Kamalia but he felt the need to share all his thoughts. All the questions that ran through his head and she was always happy to answer them just as he would answer any of her questions. But he didn’t feel this way about anyone else. Not Fentya, Stitch or Satu, just Kamalia.

This made her question all the stranger. “Love?” He repeated before she’d quite finished. He almost missed the playful sarcasm in her voice and hesitated, looking at her for a long moment. She could feel a fear in him, a fear she had felt very few times, once or twice since their bonding. She had felt fear in him before, but it was fear of losing her, worrying for her. But there was only a couple of instances where she felt true fear coming from the Kelvic, fear for himself. But in another moment it was gone, as he realised what she meant.

He recalled what he’d read in a book, “A strong positive emotion of regard and affection.” He stood up, clearly thinking. “Like the characters from the great destruction in your books? That sort of love?” He’d never really thought about such a thing. As Kamalia named Aselia, he tried to think of what emotions that conjured up. “No, Aselia is a sister to me, like she is to you. I like the music the Vantha girl plays, just like I enjoy hearing you sing and play your harp.”

He gestured for them to keep walking, talking her hand in his once more but walking alongside her now. He became curious once more. “Why do you ask? Are you in love?”

[Kamalia Timandre]

Smilingly, the konti maiden watched the kelvic enjoy the advent of spring and the unsullied wilderness around them. The transitions and the phases between seasons had never been truly a marvel to Kamalia back in the White Isle. Here, however, the divine contracts between Caiyha and Tivaku manifested themselves in regal glory. Nature suffused the world with spirit, replenished the forests with verdant beauty and blossoming life, and gave hope when Morwen’s icy blankets grew too cold to bear. There was a faint stab of pang and envy as the konti girl remembered the days of her own childhood, days when the konti herself was free to frolic and swim in the placid realms of the Silver Lake, to feel the waves and the capricious currents of Vaska Gulf whirl perennially against her skin, to sing and dance by the moonrise in the starlit groves of the White Isle.

“I was born in Springtime as well, on the thirty-ninth moon, under a rain of vian petals,” she said softly in Kontinese, remembering the beautiful face of her mother. Those were memories she had long flung beyond the stars.

Faintly, through their arcane bond, Kamalia sensed the peculiar twinge of fear coiling around Gromhir’s heart when she teasingly threatened the kelvic that she would punish him. It was an alarming, forbidding emotion, one she felt so rarely from her kelvic friend even as they had spent what seemed like a lifetime together. Every time fear crept up on Gromhir, it was either for Kamalia’s safety or the well-being of her sisters—very rarely for his own. This was a sudden feeling of self-preservation. As quickly as the reaction came, it was chased away by the light of understanding and Kamalia felt relieved.

It was strange, watching the kelvic ponder on complicated concepts such as love. Perhaps such a notion was not too complex to wolves, given their animal instincts, and she was not entirely sure either if ivaski mate for life. If ivaski had a concept of religion, could they possible discern of the concept of love? To all konti, however, love was something sacrosanct. Some konti even find only a single lover in their long lifetime through the Call.

Love was the willingness to sacrifice.

Gromhir was no longer the helpless boy she once knew; he grew too quickly, physically and mentally, and the tall man walking beside her was ample proof of that. It was he who provided her protection, he who guided her when she felt lost, and sometimes he who did all the thinking. Once the konti used to pamper Gromhir with a motherly affection and was overprotective of him when they moved into a city brimming with humanfolk. In truth, the konti knew that it was the kelvic who had been taking care of her all along.

She did not find the need to answer Gromhir’s questions yet, smiling at him instead with a touch of amusement. With all her possible speed, she closed in, catching Gromhir off-guard and began to shift her fingers back and forth to tickle the sides of the man’s torso. “This is your punishment, anyway!”

[Gromhir]

Gromhir could feel the envy and pain conjured up by the thoughts of her home. It was a slightly strange concept for him, home. “I’ve never really had a home,” he said after a moments thought. “I’ve never really stayed in one place long enough to feel like home? How do we know if something is home? Is it a feeling like Love? Do we know that too?” His eyes widened when he realised that he was speaking far too quickly and far too many thoughts all at once. Sometimes, it was better to hold restraint than to let everything flow out all at once. His questions would be answered in time.

The willingness to sacrifice. Did that truly define love? It was part of it, definitely. If that was true then Gromhir could only think of one person he loved. One person he would willingly sacrifice everything for and had done on several previous occasions. But did that truly mean?

He didn’t have time to finish as Kamalia lunged at him. At her words, he threw his hands up to defend himself, his reactions slightly quicker than what Kamalia expected. But he did not foresee what would happen next. The Ivaski burst into laughter as she tickled his sides. His knees gave way underneath him and the pair tumbled to the floor. His laughter ran to his very soul when suddenly he felt something was off with Kamalia.

As the Konti tickled her companion a vision forced itself vividly into her mind. She was forcibly pulled from this world and thrust sharply into the past. Emotions swirled around her being, joy and happiness. As the darkness dissipated, she found she was no longer in the world she once knew.

A small stables swam into her vision, somewhere in Sylira, she knew that much. The surrounding terrain was much like that of what had surrounded her before. She was flying almost. The view zoomed in through the large oak door to a small pen in the stables at the back. A young woman’s laughter, not much older than Kamalia, filled the stables. One word came to mind upon looking at the young woman’s form, Lyeia. She was touching something that squirmed in the hay. Roughly the size of a common housedog was a creature. Whitemane. She was tickling the creature’s belly and he rolled around barking, yapping and wagging his tail. Hugely disproportion paws high in the air as he did so.

“Kamalia?” concern wracked Gromhir as he watched his bondmate almost frozen. “What can you see?”

[Kamalia Timandre]

A smile begins on the lips, a grin spreads to the eyes, a chuckle comes from the stomach, but a true laughter bursts from the soul, overflows and effloresces all around.

Kamalia had come to love Gromhir’s laughter, which were in truth as seldom as rain. At the height of laughter, the universe was flung to a kaleidoscope of new possibilities. Laughter was the sun that drove away the frost from a wintered heart, and what pure water was to cleanse the body, laughter was to cleanse the soul. Laughter and tears were both responses to frustration and exhaustion. Kamalia joined her guardian’s hearty mirth, slender fingers dancing to tickle the sides of his body until his knees gave way underneath him and the pair tumbled onto the greenery.

They laughed and laughed and laughed, for laughter was a cushion that eased the blows of life. It was a tonic, relief, a surcease for pain. When she was still a coddled daughter being told stories, Mother would tell her that wealthier still an impoverished woman who can still laugh than a queen who had long forgotten the joys of simple mirth.

Laugh as much as you breathe and love as long as you live. Carry laughter with you everywhere you go, and you will have a keen blade to slice through the tangles of life.

Suddenly, Kamalia was pulled from her body and a maternal peace enfolded her. The girl dreamed that she and the man had slipped past the vast expanse of cerulean heavens and drifted across the clouds. Once again, Avalis had granted her daughter a window to the past. Kamalia found herself swimming in an ocean of memories and a cosmos of juvenile emotions that vividly clung to her heart. The konti instinctively knew through her seer intuition that the vision was in someplace in Sylira, despite not having seen the location firsthand. In it she saw a small stable in a lush pasture, amid a jade meadow that sprang anemones, dandelions and irises in a verdant springtime.

And then came the laughter of a young woman, so pleasing to the ears, so amiable in the heart. Louder and louder her melodic mirth came as Kamalia glided closer, slender arms held aloft, like an ethereal dancer in a reverie. Overtaken by some girlish impulse and curiosity, the ghostly seer hovered through dancing lilies and vernal orchids, chasing after an unseen trail of the crystalline laughter. Like a silver shadow, the girl slipped past through a large oaken door, towards a pen in the stables at the rear.

There knelt a young human female, not much older than the konti seer herself, laughing a soulful symphony of merriment. Her name slipped unbidden into the konti's mind. She could not see her face, but she saw her fingers dance to pet the stomach of an ivaski pup squirming and rolling and cavorting in the hay. It was Whitemane, large enough to be mistaken as a common housedog, with strangely disproportioned paws aloft as the woman tickled him. The music in her laughter trailed off in the wind, and as sudden as she came, an invisible force snatched the konti seer back from the fathoms of her goddess-given reverie.

The dream flickered, and her mind slipped back into the sphere of the present. Reality opened her eyes, and the alabaster maiden found herself staring at the beautiful face of her guardian.

Home was the first word she heard from him. Home was what he called the Konti Isle, when he looked beyond the gulf of Vaska, in the easternmost coasts of Sylira. How could he not know home? How could he not think of Mura as his home? Could it truly be that Gromhir had another home? Could it truly be that Gromhir had another mistress, and belonged to someone else?

“Lyeia,” the name of the unknown young woman graced her lips. “Is she the one? The one that you love?” she asked, smilingly, her voice wavering, and Gromhir would feel tender pangs that pierced her heart like tiny shards of crystal. She found it deeply troubling. Not that she begrudged him of his past, but she realized suddenly and forcefully, that Gromhir was all that she truly had. With him, she was home. Without him, where would she be?

[Gromhir]

“Lyeia…” Gromhir’s eyes widened at the name. Hearing it spoken after so long was more a shock than he thought it would. Gromhir recoiled back from Kamalia. He turned away from Kamalia and put a bit of space between them. He muttered something, too quiet for her Konti ears to hear. “She’ll never forgive, never.” The Kelvic shivered and Kamalia found she could feel he was cold. Despite the fact that Syna’s warmth and light danced on his skin, Gromhir shivered.

“Lyeia was…” the familiar tone of no emotion found its way into Gromhir’s voice. The one he used when he was confused, scared and hurting. “She was good. Lyeia took me in when I was a cub, she had no idea I was a Kelvic when she took me in. I was a pet. I stayed in the warmth of the stable while she thought I was just a puppy.” Gromhir looked back to Kamalia. “I never bonded with her. She was a good friend. But she is not the one I… love.”

“What did your sight show you, Kamalia?” Gromhir asked finally. He was worried, scared what she would do if she knew his secrets. He’d kept them hidden for so long and now it looked like she was unlocking them. Would she push him away? Would she break their bond? Would she finally try to kill him? Would- no, she wouldn’t. He doubted her before and now they were here. He would not doubt her again. He. Did he? He wasn’t sure.

He had felt the shards that had pierced her heart. Did she doubt him? That had never occurred to him before. Did she doubt that he was not going to stay with her? Why all these questions about love? Was there something else that swam in her mind, something she would not share? They each had secrets, but then, she had not asked about his past nor did he feel he should tell her right now. If she knew his past, she might treat him differently. He didn’t want that.

He looked over her flawless features. Could he truly provide for her? Maybe she needed someone else? “Do you need someone else Kamalia? Is that why you are asking these questions? Do you wish I was different?” Kamalia might be able to hold in the questions that bothered her but he could not. He was a curious being and always asked more when they were together alone.

[Kamalia Timandre]

A prick of pain, a waft of sympathy, a surge of blending emotions inundated her heart, roiling emotions that brought tremors across eyes the hue of summer twilight. The name the man so softly murmured flung more icicles to penetrate her velvet heart. More painful still was the space the man conjured between them. Suddenly, Gromhir seemed so distant, and she could not hear the words he spoke as they were drowned by the treesongs. Memories of solitude overtook the girl at once and her heart was plunged into the fear of being alone. Yet she, too, through her fey gifts, could feel the tethering of perturbation that slowly froze his heart. Gromhir was cold, even as the daystar streamed her rays through the leafy canopy and down on his skin. How she wanted to throw herself into his arms, wishing to recover the closeness they once knew, but she defied this impulse.

Gromhir’s past was still an enigma to the konti maiden, and she saw only tiny slivers of his darkened memories akin to a half-forgotten dream. He spoke to her in a perfectly even voice, arctic and aloof; try as he might, to detach his heart from the tethers of an embittered memory was impossible. She heard every word, every phrase, every pause and silence, charged with forbidding and drowning emotions, rushing forth in a deluge as he spoke about Lyeia. He refused to reveal everything— she knew that much. The restraint she sensed from her bondmate was painfully unnatural for the konti girl.

There was a brief interval of silence before Gromhir painted questions upon the quiescent fabric. Kamalia’s voice was music and siren song, one filled with longing and melancholy. “Avalis has shown me the stables where Lyeia took you in. You were there, too, as a pup. You seemed so joyful then,” the maiden said calmly as a solemn smile blessed her faultless features.

The man’s following questions buffeted against her like tempests. “I have no need of anyone else,” Kamalia tenderly promised. “You are dearest to me for who you are, and there is no need to fear. We will never part until the end,” she smiled. That was a lie, of course. She loved every moment she spent with Gromhir, but as time trickled away second by second, he seemed like a fleeting dream that quickly spilled through her fingers like mottled sand. Gromhir was short-lived, passing and ephemeral, and every moment she spent with him, her heart grew heavier.

"Tell me more about her."