Romancing Semantics (Videli)

[Mara]

Spring 54, 512AV

Droplets of cocoon woven homes hung from every corner, the citadel of spun ivory that was Kalinor. If being born into and never having left this fortress, you may never know what lies beyond. One would never know that Kalinor is unlike anything that would ever be seen across the far reaches of the continent.

Mara was not born in the city, nor was he born a full-Symenestra. Each step he took within the confides of this subversive dwelling was seen. To an untrained eye he may fool some and they would call him Widow. True residents knew upon the first sight of him. He was enfeeblement incarnate. Diluted with what and by who, surely did not matter much, but he had watered down their precious race with his existence. A testament to their dwindling numbers and purity and none were too appreciative. The select few who treated him well were few and far between and most were compelled by Viratas to do so.

In Avanthal, judgments were similar, but for much different reasons. They looked upon Mara and saw something very different from themselves. His father may have been Vantha, but surely what they had set eyes upon was the offspring of the monsters of rumor. Spider humanoids that survived off blood and stole into households to kidnap young women to impregnate them with their murderous offspring; it was a true horror story made real.

Before leaving Avanthal, he knew nothing but the rumors of the Symenestra side of him. Now he lived it. He was clutched within their life style, mucking his hands with the proverbial blood of every surrogate that passed through the Place of Purging in which he now worked. Not that Mara was involved with he births, he simply assisted where needed and stayed out of the way, like a proper step-child. Still he raised no hand to halt them. How could he?

The cool filtered air grazed his face as he entered the Cribellum, a new acquainted friend. The glow of yellowed stones illuminated his paling skin. The lack of sun had stripped his exterior of Syna's glow.

He was obsidian tresses that no longer shone with tendrils of aurora against luminescent layers. Cardinal shaded lakes that skimmed past the coming books and avoided the grimacing stare of the librarian that he could feel as harpoons striking the curves of his vertebrae.

Reference, he was searching for reference on a certain encumbrance of his. The usual medical books would do no good. He needed to find something new. The lengthy passages of collective information would need to be obscure. With a feathered limb he floated a digit down upon a dusty spine to extract it from between leather wrapped grasps. A supple drone of amusement buzzed between moist budding petals of pink. The golden insignia adorning the cover inflated his interests and it was tucked into his side so he could make his way to a workbench to analyze.

With an unobservant pivot he was greeted with a hollowed chest, forcing his nose flat into velvety fabric. He yanked away, hand rising to rub at just flattened nostrils. His eyes grazed up, to find the grey yarn colored mane and aware repugnant stare. He could nearly smell the distaste wafting from him in generous waves of displeasure. The librarian cleared his throat and wrapped a bony grasp around Mara's arm and dragged him to the side and out of his way. He wiped his hand across his dressings as he departed to lose any of his epithelial that may have transferred.

Not having a chance to offer any kind of apology and being shown that most obviously there was not one wanted, he continued on his way. Making his way once again to the wood grained table now only a few feet away.