Timestamp: 15th of Summer, 512 AV
Am I foolish? Svasra had to think she was. She didn’t really know what compelled her to settle down on her bed, quill in hand, ink jar precariously balanced beside her pillow where her book was propped. She looked down at the blank pages of the back, smooth and unwritten. The front was starting to clutter with legends, brief snippets of ideas to be later written out, and even random notes that collected into songs that Svasra sung to herself when no one could hear anything that might travel off-key. The young woman sighed and laid back a moment, closing her eyes.
It was just past a year now. Just past a year from when she was supposed to make this venture with someone quite different from the Akalak who accompanied her now. “Has it really been that long, Pyxis?” she asked aloud, hearing only her voice in the empty room. Dragul had departed for the time being, and it allowed her a few moments alone that she needed. Not that the man was something she needed time from, but Svasra had to admit she needed a few moments with her own thoughts … with her little memories and see what sense she could make of them.
They were short memories, of a very brief time within her small span of life, yet there were not as blurred or hazed as many others. They were clear, and sharp. Was it because of who he was? Some divine influence forcing her (allowing her to?) remember him so clearly? Svasra blew out a small huff as she opened her eyes. "He might not even be here," she said. The room felt lonely indeed. Lhavit was a large city, with many places. Many faces. And many of the beautiful Ethaefal. He also disappeared during the troubled time where everything in Mizahar was shaken by strong Djed forces. Rising, Svasra shook her head, growing pained to think he perished.
Why though? Why did he mean so much? Svasra felt a flicker of frustration every time she noticed that nagging emotion still lingered. Not the full blown passion and vigor she felt in his presence, but a small trace. A faint web of those feelings she thought would disappear. She hoped they would. Svasra would like to think she came to Lhavit to start exploring the world, and seek new horizons. Though, perhaps she really only came to look backwards and see if she saw her past. The woman - was she a woman, really, with this immature refusal to see the obvious? - paced for a moment before setting back on the bed.
People always spoke of closure. "You need closure to finally accept things," weren't those the words? How would she ever achieve such? Even if she established he was not in Lhavit, did that really decide that he simply did come to the end she assumed he did? That somewhere, alone in the wilderness, the young Ethaefal had been lost within the storm that terrorized the people of Avanthal in their confusion and panic? Perhaps it was something she just needed to decide for herself. Needed to force herself to come to a conclusion and accept it. She would most likely always live with the hope of his face appearing merged with some crowd.
Svasra imagined the scene. Walking down a busy street and seeing a flash of his ever-so-familiar horns, seeing their curve and the shimmer of something not from the earth. Svasra wondered what she would say, what he would say in return ... would he even be interested in seeing her again? Was that why he never showed up in the first place? No, Svasra knew she would not approach the Ethaefal. He was part of the past, he had to be! Svasra had to come to Lhavit for herself, not for him. She refused to believe it was for him.
Svasra opened her book, and looked at the back pages, dipping her quill into the ink jar.
"Perhaps our love was nothing more than a candle to the sun, yet, it was the only light I'd ever seen, so who am I to compare?" Svasra spoke as she wrote, feeling her arm relax as the pen trailed over the page, inking it with a sense of finality Svasra felt she needed.
Oh, Pyxis, I am in Lhavit ...
Note: "Svasra speaking Vani, Svasra speaking Common"
Am I foolish? Svasra had to think she was. She didn’t really know what compelled her to settle down on her bed, quill in hand, ink jar precariously balanced beside her pillow where her book was propped. She looked down at the blank pages of the back, smooth and unwritten. The front was starting to clutter with legends, brief snippets of ideas to be later written out, and even random notes that collected into songs that Svasra sung to herself when no one could hear anything that might travel off-key. The young woman sighed and laid back a moment, closing her eyes.
It was just past a year now. Just past a year from when she was supposed to make this venture with someone quite different from the Akalak who accompanied her now. “Has it really been that long, Pyxis?” she asked aloud, hearing only her voice in the empty room. Dragul had departed for the time being, and it allowed her a few moments alone that she needed. Not that the man was something she needed time from, but Svasra had to admit she needed a few moments with her own thoughts … with her little memories and see what sense she could make of them.
They were short memories, of a very brief time within her small span of life, yet there were not as blurred or hazed as many others. They were clear, and sharp. Was it because of who he was? Some divine influence forcing her (allowing her to?) remember him so clearly? Svasra blew out a small huff as she opened her eyes. "He might not even be here," she said. The room felt lonely indeed. Lhavit was a large city, with many places. Many faces. And many of the beautiful Ethaefal. He also disappeared during the troubled time where everything in Mizahar was shaken by strong Djed forces. Rising, Svasra shook her head, growing pained to think he perished.
Why though? Why did he mean so much? Svasra felt a flicker of frustration every time she noticed that nagging emotion still lingered. Not the full blown passion and vigor she felt in his presence, but a small trace. A faint web of those feelings she thought would disappear. She hoped they would. Svasra would like to think she came to Lhavit to start exploring the world, and seek new horizons. Though, perhaps she really only came to look backwards and see if she saw her past. The woman - was she a woman, really, with this immature refusal to see the obvious? - paced for a moment before setting back on the bed.
People always spoke of closure. "You need closure to finally accept things," weren't those the words? How would she ever achieve such? Even if she established he was not in Lhavit, did that really decide that he simply did come to the end she assumed he did? That somewhere, alone in the wilderness, the young Ethaefal had been lost within the storm that terrorized the people of Avanthal in their confusion and panic? Perhaps it was something she just needed to decide for herself. Needed to force herself to come to a conclusion and accept it. She would most likely always live with the hope of his face appearing merged with some crowd.
Svasra imagined the scene. Walking down a busy street and seeing a flash of his ever-so-familiar horns, seeing their curve and the shimmer of something not from the earth. Svasra wondered what she would say, what he would say in return ... would he even be interested in seeing her again? Was that why he never showed up in the first place? No, Svasra knew she would not approach the Ethaefal. He was part of the past, he had to be! Svasra had to come to Lhavit for herself, not for him. She refused to believe it was for him.
Svasra opened her book, and looked at the back pages, dipping her quill into the ink jar.
"Perhaps our love was nothing more than a candle to the sun, yet, it was the only light I'd ever seen, so who am I to compare?" Svasra spoke as she wrote, feeling her arm relax as the pen trailed over the page, inking it with a sense of finality Svasra felt she needed.
Oh, Pyxis, I am in Lhavit ...
Note: "Svasra speaking Vani, Svasra speaking Common"
