[Sanctuary] The Hearts of Weavers (Kavala)

[Ronan]

Timestamp: 2nd of Winter, 511 AV

Ronan smiled as the others finished up their breakfast - yet another meal prepared by their attentive host, Kavala. Through Akilah, through Sama'el, through Kavala, he was beginning to learn what family was. And family was the key to happiness, he was sure of it.

Finishing up his own food, he let the others continue to chat amongst themselves, and slipped away from the room alone. Friends of Sama'el were friends of him, but still, he barely knew them, and they all knew each other. He couldn't help but feel like a fish out of water.

Walking, and wanting fresh air, Ronan found himself in the central courtyard. He was beginning to settle into a pattern of thought and practise, and was growing quite fond of the stolen moments he spent in the Web.

Breathing slowly, like Sama'el taught him, he began to make out the strands around him. Like silk and gossamer, they intertwined, crossing, connecting. He couldn't help but grin like a child faced with a table of treats.

Sama'el's threads were defined - or perhaps it was that he was attuned to them. Kavala had spoken of her own handiwork, and so it was he wondered if he could find her strands too. It became a training exercise. The Web required practise. And practise makes perfect, as the old adage went.

[Kavala]

Webs criss-crossed the courtyard, a strong sturdy web that was flavored of the Drykas but molded too outside of the grasslander's experience. Sama'els work was distinctive, a braid of intricate knotwork woven with djed and passion, devotion and perseverance. Sama'el had such a distinctive weave and it dominated here too where his weavings had first introduced the wholly unique drykas artform to the world of the Akalaks. To Ronan's inner eye, Sama'els threads were a deep sapphire that coiled thickly from the origin stone to each far point of Sanctuary, linking the facility in a basic network that another more subtle pattern had overwoven. The other strands were delicate but surprisingly strong, azure instead of sapphire, as if the drykas who wove them wasn't wholly pure. Reading webbing was in a lot of ways like peeking into the minds of the webbers for they wove something of themselves into each of their strands.

It was as clear as night and day which were Kavala's and which were Sama'els. To Ronan, it was like looking at two different samples of handwriting, one bold and one delicate. In a way Sama'els work and Kavala's directly complimented each other, though he could tell too that they were of the same clan in that. And it was very enlightening too because moving across the Sea of Grass one passed web after web but here, he was looking at core work... one mage removed. Only two webbers had ever touched Sanctuary with their art and that art gave him a lasting impression of just how Sama'el had laid his lines.

Origins first. Main arteries stretched out to the furthest reaches of the pastures. Secondary lines crossed arteries and reinforced the djed. Walking ten yards in any direction one crossed one of Sama'el's lines. Walking five yards one crossed Kavala's reinforcements. She'd used his framework to build more webs over the top and had tied certain living things into the Sanctuary webs though not many and not all. These living ties were more fragile, moving, and effervescent. Animals and people.

If he touched one of Sama'els web lines, he'd feel Sam's emotions and what he'd been feeling when he wove. There was a satisfaction, a deep contentment, and a slight attraction as if he enjoyed and felt comfortable where he was. Kavala's lines would feel very similar. The webbers worked together and were comfortable in each other's presence in a way that was stimulating and engaging for both of them. Ronan could almost feel the enjoyment and ease of the webbers state of mind as they'd been weaving.

If he touched Kavala's deeper he'd feel the servitude, the slavery, the yoke of not owning oneself wrapped deeply into her soul's djed. Beautiful but troubled, content but quietly raging. There was more to her than met the eye. If he touched Sama'els deeper, he'd feel Sama'els deep loneliness and his burning need for family, so like Ronan's own. In Sama'els own way, weaving for Kavala's facility had been a way of gifting her a bit of family like he wished someone would indeed gift to him.

And even now, touching one of Kavala's lines, he could find her being so close. If he pursued it, he'd find her essence working, bare foot and wearing work clothes while scrubbing out the enormous stone basin that served as a tub in the bath house. She wanted her guests to be able to bathe in warm water that night if they felt the need to relax. In fact, she was planning on inviting them to join her for candlelight conversation and relaxing whispers in the dim light.

Konti always loved the water. Of course Kavala would be no different.

[Ronan]

It took him a while, but Ronan began to distinguish the different strands from one another. There was a pattern, a grid. Had Kavala and Sama'el set out to create all of this by design? He touched at Sama'el's sapphire blue weaves, and felt a flurry of emotions. His head felt groggy, and it took him a moment to make sense of it all.

There was a contentment. Home? And there was a sense of sureness and direction - that was something Ronan had always felt around Sama'el. He was a guiding presence. But underneath... underneath, he felt something else. A longing, perhaps?

He let go, catching his breath. For a novice Web weaver, it was a lot to take in. Much of those raw emotions however, he had already sensed in the presence of his friend.

Curious, he turned to the other weaves, focusing. He began to make out a few of Kavala's. It was a sense, a pulse, an energy. It gave the weave an identity. Hesitantly, he touched at one. The emotions crashed down on him like a waterfall.

At first, the initial layer was of satisfaction, of content, of serenity. But that was not all. What was this tempestous texture beneath? The quiet Konti seethed beneath the surface. A contract? A possession? He let go quickly. He did not understand, and he would rather learn by Kavala's tongue than second hand like this.

He turned and tried to determine where the energy was coming from. When he realised Kavala must be in the bathhouse, he grinned to himself. He was getting a little better at this. So he walked towards her slowly, hoping he wasn't going to interrupt anything, but also willing for a conversation with this troubled soul.

[Kavala]

If Ronan was going to interrupt anything at all, it was just a cleaning spree. Kavala had been neglecting the laundry in the bath house forever, so she was scrubbing towels on a washboard and then once they were rinsed clean from the showerhead, they were hung to dry on the drying racks. It was thankless work, but Sanctuary was without servants to do it so Kavala herself had too.

As she did so she sang softly, in Pavi, a song about the grasslands and about Semele and Zulrav.

"Mother I feel you under my feet:
Mother I hear your heart beat

Mother I feel you under my feet:
Mother I hear your heart beat

Hey ya hey ya, hey ya
hey ya, hey ya hey ho!
Hey ya hey ya, hey ya
hey ya, hey ya hey hoooo...

Hey ya hey ya, hey ya
hey ya, hey ya hey ho!
Hey ya hey ya, hey ya
hey ya, hey ya hey hoooo...

Mother I hear you in the river's song:
Eternal waters flowing on and on.

Mother I hear you in the river's song:
Eternal waters flowing on and on.

Hey ya hey ya, hey ya
hey ya, hey ya hey ho!
Hey ya hey ya, hey ya
hey ya, hey ya hey hoooo...

Hey ya hey ya, hey ya
hey ya, hey ya hey ho!
Hey ya hey ya, hey ya
hey ya, hey ya hey hoooo...

Father I see you when the eagle flies:
Flight of the Spirit's gonna take us higher

Father I see you when the eagle flies:
Flight of the Spirit's gonna take us higher

Hey ya hey ya, hey ya
hey ya, hey ya hey ho!
Hey ya hey ya, hey ya
hey ya, hey ya hey hoooo...

Hey ya hey ya, hey ya
hey ya, hey ya hey ho!
Hey ya hey ya, hey ya
hey ya, hey ya hey hoooo...

Mother I feel you under my feet:
Mother I hear your heart beat

Mother I feel you under my feet:
Mother I hear your heart beat

Mother I feel you under my feet:
Mother I hear your heart beat

Mother I feel you under my feet:
Mother I hear your heart beat
Mother I feel you under my feet:
Mother I hear your heart beat"

She worked to the rhythm of the song, twisting soap out of the towels, then swiping them with soap again, then using the washboard on them, then rinsing, ringing, and hanging them dry. Robes also fluttered from the drying rack. She had a series of braziers set up in the room, which gave it warmth to add to the steam already coming off the bath. The towels and robes would dry relatively fast in the artificial heat as long as the bath was drained soon.

Kavala planned to do just that, then scrub out its interior so it was clean, fresh, and ready for her guests with all their travel dust and trail worn hides.

.

[Ronan]

Ronan did not need the fine, glistening strands of the Web, to find Kavala. Her singing guided the way. As he came to the entrance of the bathhouse, he saw her washing clothes and rushing about in a busy fashion.

There was no doubt in his mind that this woman was a hard worker, yet she approached every endeavour with relish, neither grumbling nor complaining. There was something in her demeanour... when he had touched her part of the Web. Was this life of labour the product of something else from her past.

Curiously, he watched from the doorway. Kavala was too busy with her back turned to notice him. And he listened to the song, ears pricking up as he took in the words. Her melody was in Pavi, and he had no doubts that she sang of the Sea of Grass. And the Mother... was that Semele? He made a silent prayer to the Goddess he had so often turned to.

Having waited for a while, he realised he should say something. He would come across as some kind of stalker, standing here and watching her.

"Kavala," he said softly but with a directness. He felt sad to interrupt her song. It was a beautiful one, and stoked memories of tents and camp fires, cooking smells and the warm touch of conversation. Cyphrus nights were the best. "Here we are again, in your abode. Last time I thanked you, and I'll thank you again. Your hospitality is unmatched."

The journey had come full circle for now, stalled after Sama'el's travelling companion Denen had been kidnapped. Bumping into each other in the north, they had doubled back on themselves. Ronan wasn't sure when they would be leaving for Avanthal again, but he would have to wait for the Drykas to return at the least.

[Kavala]

Kavala froze at the voice, her rhythm stopping and she turned to look at Ronan. Kavala smiled when she recognized him and straightened. She finished wringing out the towel she was working on and beckoned him in.

"I'll have the tub cleaned in a few. I was just using it for laundry. We were all out of clean towels and robes. I usually keep the cabinets full here but sometimes chores catch up when you let things like this slide. You weren't wanting to use it were you? I thought we could tonight. I'll break out candles and wine and let anyone who wants to come relax." Kavala said, as if bathing around Sanctuary was something of an event, even though most of them did so nightly. "If you get the fire under the tub really going, it will keep it hot for hours on just the coals alone. Good for winter so no one catches their death of cold wetness." The Konti said, slipping the now only damp towel over the drying rack.

"We're outgrowing our buildings fast, so I've hired an architect and geomancer to help me expand below ground to provide rooms and a central meeting area for everyone. I want to expand a sea cave that's below us on the beach in the cliff so that it can hold the livestock during some of the winter storms we're notorious for getting here. I've been busy working on that, designing and planning, doing some of the work myself." She said, glancing around. "I'm afraid some of the winter chores are going undone due to the move." She said, in way of explaining things.

She didn't ask him what he needed. Kavala figured it Ronan indeed needed something, he'd let her know. She did, however, want him to meet someone before the day was through since he was here, unexpectedly.

[Ronan]

"No, no... don't rush. Honestly, it's fine. But that sounds lovely. I'll be here. I'm sure everyone will come down - I doubt anyone feels particularly clean after their travels. And you're right, the cold seeps into your bones, and you never seem able to shake it until Spring comes round again."

He smiled at her, listening to her renovation plans. They were quite extensive, but he could only react with awe.

"The Sanctuary is going to be a beautiful place Kavala," he replied with a sage nod, "I think... I think a lot of your heart and soul has gone into it. I can see that wherever I look. The chores can wait - I'm sure it will all be worth it."

He looked around, picturing the bathhouse at night, darkness dimly lit by pools of flickering candlelight. The thought of hot water was more than appealing.

"When we come back through, I'll be sure to stop by again. I expect a lot will have changed in a season." He looked down at the ground, tilting his head away from her a little. "I'll be sad to leave, actually. It's so... homely here."

He knew little of the city, but Sanctuary itself was aptly named. There was food and drink aplenty, the Striders were content, and now there was the promise of hot baths and wine. He had never really experienced luxury, but he was sure that was what this was.

[Kavala]

Kavala chuckled. "That's high praise considering your Drykas and homey means moving fabric walls and a tent full of people." Kavala said, laughing softly. Then she brightened. "I wanted you to meet someone actually, if you don't mind a bit of walk across the courtyard." She added, looking curiously at Ronan for a moment.

"I had wondered about the origins of your last name. I know another Windsong, and have since he was about three days old." She said, hanging up the last towel, draining the tub, then carefully wiping it down. She beckoned to them and together they walked out of the bathhouse (after Kavala slipped on boots and a coat) and across the courtyard to the large box stalls at the end on either side of the gates. Kavala selected one seemingly at random and a grey muzzled dun strider poked his nose out and yawned. It was evident he was elderly though not unfit. This dun coat had grown slightly grey and his red-black mane and tail were streaked with silver as well. "This is Windsong. He's my bonded strider and the foundation strider to the Sanctuary's Strider mares. I bonded to him when he was three days old as a young girl and had to wait for him to grow up. He told me his name was Windsong. I didn't choose the name for him. I wonder if he isn't of your family." Kavala said, playfully scratching an itch on the elderly stallion's jaw.

The stallion himself looked Ronan over with a very discerning eye, stamped, snorted, and tossed his head. Kavala laughed. "He's sending me images of you as a horse, a young stallion he'd drive off, saying he could still take you in a fight." Kavala said something softly in Pavi, teasingly, tapping the stallion on the nose, and Ronan realized she was telling him to choose better fights. Ronan looked pretty strong to her.

[Ronan]

"Windsong," he repeated in wonder, as Kavala introduced him to the Strider, "how curious... perhaps he should meet Tairell."

Ronan stepped back, unsure, but then laughed as Kavala explained Windsong's haughty reaction. It was a sign of friendship, and of love. The fact her Strider would become so defensive of her was testament to the bond they shared.

"Tell him I have no urge to fight," he replied with a gentle smile, "though I admire his defence of you, Kavala."

He pondered on what she had said. There were strange coincidences in the world - they happened every day - but this one seemed to hold some kind of meaning. A Windsong, here in Sanctuary. And he had felt so at home here. These were not simply words, crossing in Pavi. They meant much more, he was sure of it.

"I would like to think he's family," Ronan said with a nod. "As I said, I feel at home here. And I never really had a home."

[Kavala]

Kavala smiled. She shoved Windsong's muzzle gently away from the stall door and opened the latch to his stall to let him roam. "I think they gossip more than we admit. It's likely he's already met your strider. I swear he's the welcoming committee and explains to all the new commers. I'm glad to have a solid place for him now that he's older. This winter would have not treated him well out on the grass. All the signs point to a bad one." Kavala said, leaving it unvoiced that she was worried Ronan and his friends were traveling in winter.

She turned, making a complete trek around the courtyard checking on things before she beckoned him up on the veranda and stoked up the hearth there. She offered him a seat, more wine, and quietly studied him a moment.

"You've never really had a home? Do you want to talk about it?" She asked, pulling out ingredients and beginning to mix up some bread. She baked whenever she could, keeping Sanctuary in food stock whenever she could. They had no proper kitchen yet, though one was in the works. Once they did, things would get a lot easier. But for now, she was doing what she could by utilizing the veranda, even if she had to cause bread to raise in the hearth due to the chill.

The horse gate to the arena was closed and Kavala's elderly strider seemed to simply patrol the internal courtyard, keeping a watchful gaze on the arena, round pens, and stalls that lined it. He moved with no hurry and definitely acted like a patriarch though he was half the size of her rynsa foundation stock stallions. Striders never did let size bother them. The only thing they cared about was speed and their people.