[Priskil's Pond] Hypnotica(Nim)

[Callisto]

Timestamp: 10th of Summer Since leaving Konti Isle, the trek across the scope of Mizahar was a rather long and arduous one. Callisto had taken up a Gilding horse (doubly named Glo), in an effort to ease the process of travel. Life in the mortal realm had been overwhelming and challenging. The Ethaefal had found that remembering the life she had returned as was far more difficult than she had anticipated, but her knowledge of the suvai had not completely diminished. The wildlands, however, proved to be a comforting zone, albeit an equally dangerous one. Mortals were not interesting to her, lest they retained knowledge of things gone unseen and whispers in the air spoke of magic that could send beings elsewhere…. Callisto was curious. Magic was a dangerous field of study, but the risk made it all the more alluring. Since the first year she had dropped onto Mizahar, the Ethaefal had begged a local magician on the isle for initiation. She had seen the process of Projection and wished to learn of it. To see how it was advantageous in battle, as well as the possibility to completely detach herself and find the rift that connected to Ukalas. On the journey, she often sat and meditated, or simply practiced the art of Projection as best she could; solitary, in a small clearing she might have found in the woods, for some time to herself. This was where Callisto found herself now, however, she was in no clearing. Priskil’s Pond stretched ahead of her, calm, serene and welcoming. The night did not frighten the woman, nor did the howls that emanated from miles away. Instead, she sat cross-legged in a damp patch of grass, garbed in a simple white tunic and leather leggings, with Glo leisurely grazing nearby, his coat offering a soft comforting light. A suvai was kept protectively in her lap, however she had no use for it. Her mind was elsewhere, concentrating, willing her astral body forth to detach first from her joints, then the extremities, painstakingly slow, not because Callisto was afraid of over giving or destroying nerve endings, but simply because she had no need to rush. She could feel the Djed being consumed as her astral arm moved forth, away from her limp form. Turquoise eyes opened, then a smile. She grabbed a small pebble that lay 10 feet ahead of her and promptly tossed it with the simple force of her astral arm to send it skipping along the surface of the pond. This was what she liked to see. Complete motor control, but Callisto knew to toss anything heavier than a simple pebble in such a way would require far more experience, and she was determined to get to such a level. Quietly, she recalled her astral arm, slowly yet efficiently connecting it from the joints, up to the rest of her extremities until she could feel the tingling and familiar sensation of feeling in her arm. She stretched it, massaging her shoulder then sighed. Peace and quiet was one thing, but when one is surrounded by it for so long, there is only rising irritation. Perhaps this is why she had left Mura, to seek thrill as well as knowledge.

[Nimvahlis]

Shafts of pale light speared through the white blossomed foliage, dimly illuminating the game trail Nimvahlis walked along. His hungry skin soaked up each iota of moonlight and starving lungs breathed in the night as he wove through the trees. He wore nothing, for there was no need to conceal his form from Leth. Looking nothing so much as a marble statue of ever changing hues, he made his way down pond's approach. Those who were well traveled would recognize the jade glass horns, and know Nimvahlis for what he was. A forsaken creature, bereft of his rightful divine providence. Several days ago Nimvahlis had made camp at the pond that lay but meters ahead; given that "camp" in this context meant slinging his small pack in the heights of a tree. He had found the area to be a beatific paragon for leagues, and it had managed to hold him in one spot for a while. Though the decision to leave this coming morning was not difficult, for few places held more then a molecule of sway over Nim. He breached the forest, stepping upon the grassy shore, and eyes the color of fogged glass fell upon an unexpected figure. A woman sat cross legged on the ground, focused upon some internal task or another. Nimvahlis glanced up at the tree across the clearing, the silhouette of his pack barely visible among the glances. He did not have much choice as to leaving any time before Syna's arrival. Ginger footsteps led the Ethaefal closer, making a poor attempt at stealth as he examined the shock of white hair and milky skin before him. Djed seeped into Nimvahlis' eyes almost instinctively as the world began to dimly glow. He moved closer, crouching on the balls of his feet to put himself on the same level as the serene woman before him. Small flames of indecisive color limned her form, flaring suddenly as Nim focused. Smells of a fragrant flower perfume reached him even from this distance, and his fingertips felt the grain of horripilations on her skin. With deepening focus, pale reds and oranges tumbled down from a dour sun that materialized above her head. The colors were angry, but lacked the vibrancy of a fresh wound. As Nim continued to stare, they gradated into paler hues of contemptuous smoke ran through with bitter grays. The aurist's head tilted as he stared at the woman, for despite the array of information he had discovered, he knew there was more. Always more to people. He could not be sure as to what exactly the colors meant, but there always lay the option of verbal query. "You are discontent."

[Callisto]

The night had been refreshing at the very least, even if her thoughts and memories were muddled and restricted in the Konti body she took during this hour. It was a mixed feeling however, because she was far more suited to the coppery gilded one she held during the day, where nourishment of the food variety was not necessary, and she thought of herself far more graceful and elegant. She remembered the first night on Mizahar, finding herself in a mortal body, with no magnificent glow to her then, smoldering eyes, and her skin had dimmed to a pale hue. She had thought a curse had befallen her, and indeed she still thinks of it as such now, however her bitterness had gradually deteriorated, as she remembered bits and pieces about her past life that she enjoyed greatly; one being large bodies of water and wading herself amongst the waves of the grand oceans that coated the world. Perhaps this was why she found herself in Priskil’s Pond. Despite the cover of night, it was comforting, but her quiet reverie was soon shattered when an unfamiliar voice pierced her concentration. She glanced up at the sound, azure eyes falling on the form of something she both found remarkably familiar yet alien all the same. A statuesque figure, pale and shimmering under the dominion of Leth, this was an Ethaefal; this was kin! Her mind, although caught in the chamber of her mortal body, tugged and grasped for the strands of distant memory that pertained to Ukalas. This was no stranger, this was a brother. Slowly, she stood from her position on the ground, grasping the suvai to her side. He had spoken of her discontent, and she wondered how he could have known. For however long it has taken her to leave the sanctuary of Mura, Callisto had never once met another of her kind. But here one had seemingly stumbled upon her, in the midst of a holy ground. His opalescent skin seemed irresistible to her. Too long had she suffered the image of man in all his lumbering and defectiveness. It had taken the sight of this creature to finally realize what she yearned, less than her desire to return to her Goddess, but simply enhanced by her Konti body. She approached him with a bold stride, quick and efficient to close the gap between them, until she stood above him, looking down with as much curiosity as he seemed to hold for her as well. With the curve of her suvai, she lifted his chin up until their eyes met once more. “Child of Leth, you speak to no stranger here. I’m Callisto, daughter of Syna.” Her tone was precise, but her eyes were roaming his full form. Now that she was closer, she could truly take in every detail about him, like a child recently exposed to the world. He was not an Ethaefal of Syna, but they still shared a connection, something that tugged at her aching heart.

[Nimvahlis]

The world changed. The world revolved around the sun and the moon revolved around the world. Nimvahlis embraced the modifications to existence, liquidly dancing around the hardships and troubles that plagued others. Each adjustment was something to be explored, savored and tasted before it was whisked away in the unending current. So when Callisto began striding toward Nim, he noted and embraced the adjustments in her aura. The subtle, undefinable emotion that bloomed stirred in her midriff held his eyes enraptured. Nimvahlis continued focusing on the new undertones, though was unable to pinpoint what he had aroused. A secret smile found itself on the aurist's face, anomalies were not unwelcome. Callisto stood above Nimvahlis now, the tip of her suvai pressing against his chin. He stared curiously along the length of her body, watching her eyes rove his form. Hardly aware of the weapon on his jaw, the son of Leth spoke to the daughter of Syna with silken tones, "Greetings, Callisto. One might call me Nimvahlis, son of Leth." His voice was juxtaposed to hers, surreal and calm. He continued staring up at the woman, basking in the awakened aura. Upon his approach it had seemed subdued, calm as the pond compared to the twisting and curling colors of the present. Nimvahlis slid down from the balls of his feet and onto his knees, moving his hand to hover over the Konti's lower midriff as if trying to extract whatever it was that lay inside. Tranquil intonations broke the silence again as he spoke, "What is it that stirs inside you, Callisto? I burn with curiosity." The query tugged at him, muddling an otherwise clear bond. Nimvahlis found attraction to this woman in a manner no mortal could duplicate. He longed for contact with those who shared his fate, that they might share memories or sometimes more. Yet standing over him was a complex entity he could not entirely puzzle out, a factor that did naught but strengthen the desires he harbored. Seeping to the surface were emotions that Nimvahlis had not experienced in a long time. The haze Nimvahlis experienced when subject to such strong sensations had began to settle over him, pushing the Ethaefal into a state of impending euphoria. Quicksilver eyes roamed Callisto's body from his position of subservience, exploring her concealed figure. This was a moment of sealing for Nim, where iron bound connections entrenched themselves. His was a world of visceral currents and vibrant colors, lacking the calculated notions and pacing of the world around him. Like the imprinting of an animal, Nimvahlis could, and would, know Callisto before this night had ended.

[Callisto]

Nimvahlis. The name was ingrained into her mind now, something to bring up should she feel the stabs of despair creep into her thoughts. That, indeed, there were others like her out in the forgotten reaches of Mizahar, breathing and living, wandering just as she was, for a purpose, for answers. Callisto was determined to find these answers, and the more she came in contact with the mortal peoples of the world, the easier it would become, she knew this, but it was a difficult practice to follow. Her natural disposition towards humanity would hinder her further from developing complete relationships, but Nimvahlis would be an invaluable ally… or perhaps something more than a friend. Yes, the simple thoughts fluttered in her mind like butterflies. It was the same sensation in her stomach as well. This was Attraction, and it had appeared that Nimvahlis had realized and detected what it was that she felt at his appearance. She had paused, trailing the tip of her suvai along his jaw line, up his cheek then back down across the length of his neck. A gentle touch, not enough to transfer the poison that was inevitably held in the weapon, but simple to arouse a prickling all the same. When he placed his hand over her midriff she raised a brow, a small smile tugging at her lips as she caught it with her own, bringing it away from her, but simply enjoying the smoothness of his hand, the bumps of his knuckles and his long fingers. “I think you know what it is, Nimvahlis.” She tore away from him, breaking the hold she had on his pale eyes to turn her back to him. “That is Attraction. That’s the blooming buds of yearning. I’d nearly forgotten the sensation, isn’t that strange? Centuries, it’s been,” Her voice grew bitter as her eyes fell on the pond that stretched ahead. “Let me tell you, something.” Callisto turned to face him once more, but she did not move to close the gap. Her mind was concentrated, honed in on the joints that detached her astral body, which slipped from her limp arm and extended, invisible yet inviting. She wrapped her astral fingers beneath Nim’s chin once more, lifting it up, urging him to stand now. “I invite you into me, to share what I share and to realize what it is I’ll be doing while I’m trapped in this mortal realm. Don’t you see, son of Leth? There is a way to return, and I will find it.” Each passing moment consumed the precious djed that encircled her body, but she did not care. Her want of his touch was far more prominent, but she did not move from her position. She was awaiting his response, unseen fingers trailing to his arm, where she lightly tugged at his wrist. She would not appear to a stranger, even one of her kin that she was simply pursuing mortal desires.

[Nimvahlis]

An almost audible whirring took place in Nimvahlis' head as he pieced together the tattered fragments of Callisto. Attraction. How long had it been? The years and broken memories blurred together, as if Tanroa had poured water upon their canvas. The sudden swell of a paralleled response gripped Nim, but instead of wrestling with the notion he embraced its hold. Callisto would share herself with Nimvahlis, and each frantic motion would meet reciprocation. Washed out crimsons and golds slipped from Callisto's arm, which limply hung at her side, and drifted to where Nimvahlis sat. The force of her hand on his chin returned, caressing him, pulling him. The whirling colors bathed his face in their light, blinding him to the world beyond. Reluctantly the Djed disconnected from his senses and slowly bubbled beneath his skin, waiting for the chance the surge forth once more. Though it now went unseen, the tugging persisted to draw Nimvahlis up. With little resistance did he obey the commands of Callisto, standing to face the daughter of Syna on equal footing. The same smile that her anomalous feelings had inspired earlier broke out across his face, speaking of untold secrets. To any passerby, the naked and unarmed Ethaefal would have appeared vulnerable. Yet Nimvahlis knew better, he was in complete control. He was always in control. That was not to say that the butterflies in Callisto were not echoed in him, though. Whatever form of magic Callisto had used to summon the force eluded Nimvahlis, and the knowledge that she was not only a magician but one of an obscure magic was more alluring to Nimvahlis than any physical attraction. But still his eager hands waited to pull the emotional strings that neither could see. Nim had discovered Callisto with his eyes, now his mind would propel her to unimagined heights. Removing himself from the unseen hand, Nimvahlis slowly bridged the gap between the two. With each step the Djed flowing beneath his skin grew warmer, heated by this sun goddess before him. Nim made no odd motions and spoke no meaningless incantations, simply approaching Callisto as the magic seethed inside him. They were close now, near enough to touch. The Djed pushed against him like pressurized steam, power screaming for a release. Nimvahlis calmly gazed at Callisto as his hand moved, deciphering the emotions behind her eyes like an ancient script. His brushed against her own, imparting magic that raced up her hand. It seeped into her mind, playing upon the synapses and neurons held within. Vague feelings of pleasure wove themselves into the fabric of Callisto's thoughts as their hands touched. His digits continued past the Konti's hand to graze against the fabric on her hip, and Djed bloomed inside her head. The sudden image of intertwining, their heat mingling as they lay on the grass, flashed itself across her mind. Her nerves lighted with Nim's phantom touch on her hip, and his scent filled Callisto's nostrils; both from the influence and the proximity. The entire sequence was over in a few seconds, Nim standing before her and watching her eyes for the expected reaction. With a low voice he spoke to the woman before him, "Show me everything then, daughter of Syna."

[Callisto]

Nimvahlis had approached her far quicker than she had anticipated. It both pleased and confounded Callisto, for her astral projection had been easily swept aside when he sauntered toward her, retracting to hover beside her head should she require it in any way during this close encounter. His closeness didn’t bother her, nor did that captivating stare. On the contrary, she returned the gesture with as much stubborn force and defiance as possible; the determination, the curiousness, the audacious undertones mixed with layers of compassion and a sprinkling of a candid flare. It was what she was willing to reveal to him, all in one sweep, to establish the connection. But his touch had been partially expected and unexpected all at once. It was a comforting action, but one that sent a sudden influx of images into her mind, and she stood, stunned, eyes unblinking but fixed on some unseen being ahead of Nimvahlis. She was enraptured in what she saw; the simplicity of it all, but the union that she yearned for that went beyond exchanging memories of the lost days in Ukalas and the reminiscing of past lives. Her concentration had dropped utterly, and her astral arm retracted and converged far quicker and rough than was deemed safe. When the imagery had died down, she closed her eyes in a wince as her arm throbbed, yet felt completely numb perhaps, even for the rest of the night. Callisto brought her hand up to rub at her temples, then paused. The simple gesture, the slight, feathery touch on her hand, her hip; had Nimvahlis done something to her? Opening her eyes, she fixed her gaze on him, a flash of animosity, a hint of a slightly concealed admiration. It was amazing, but this dominance would be one well fought for. She cared not if her djed had been consumed in droves during her little bout of projection, she would show him what she was truly capable of, and when he spoke, she gave a soft smirk. “You’re bold, Nimvahlis, truly.” Her concentration returned, urging the djed on her remaining arm to tear her astral limb from the joint once more, a phantom arm whose fingers curled around her fellow Ethaefal’s neck in seconds. She pushed him back with simple force, a jerk. “You toy with me, but you’re what I’ve been waiting for this whole time. We are much alike than just where we hail from.” Then almost as quickly as she shoved him, she pulled him closer to her until their bodies touched and her lips could leave feathery whispers along the length of his jaw line. She wanted him. She wanted the heat, the touch, and it was simply enhanced by his magic. “I will find the rift to Ukalas using the art of projection.” Her astral arm felt heavier, far more burdened with the lack of djed being used to fuel it, she wouldn’t last long without ample rest, thus her fingers slowly slipped from Nimvahlis’ neck, as if to seemingly disappear, a soft glow that wrapped itself around Callisto’s arm and settled into the alabaster hue of her skin. “What then, is the question…” She went on, taking in his scent and marveling at the way the shift of moonlight danced across his skin. Callisto had been affected, whether she had wished it or not.

[Nimvahlis]

Warm pleasure soaked him at Callisto's reaction. It spilled over Nimvahlis' crown, trickling down his exposed body to coat him in a similar emotion he had imparted to her. Whether this development was due to the magic he had harnessed, or a purely natural one, Nim neither knew nor cared. Though there was the likelihood of the feeling having been induced by his own magic, the falsified image had not imprinted upon him. Mental defenses bowed willingly before the enjoyable feeling that danced down his nerves, a mirror of what he had forced upon Callisto. A base desire stirred in Nimvahlis, a stronger idea than the attraction that had dug its hooks into him. He wanted her. He wanted the heat, the touch, and it was simply enhanced by her magic- or perhaps his. Callisto spoke, and suddenly his breath caught as the force seized him by the throat and pushed. Backpedaling to keep his balance, Nimvahlis gladly obliged to the commands of the unseen hand. This was a moment of revelation for the Ethaefal, the sign that told him Callisto had been checkmated. Dominance had been wrenched from her grasp, and the woman was retrieving what was rightfully hers. Or rather, found herself making the attempt to do so. Everything was clear to Nimvahlis, like he was watching her beneath the glass surface of the pond. Little was needed when reinforcing the subject's desires, yet all slopes could become slippery. So though the upward turn of his lips faded, not a syllable of pain or protest slipped Wrenched back to his mistress and released by the ethereal force, Nimvahlis found the pleasured smile involuntarily returning. Callisto's skin radiated warmth, invoking a desire to sink into her being and lose his identity within. As if doing just such a thing, Nimvahlis pressed closer against her body. Electricity played between his fingertips as they drifted, sliding over her shoulder and lightly clinging to the nape of her neck. The surreptitious energy slipped into the woman’s subconscious, take what you want from him, make this man yours. Not quite rising to her consciousness, the notion wove through Callisto as an undercurrent to her thoughts. Nimvahlis' hand remained on her neck, a slight parody of the force she had moments ago subjected him to. Callisto spoke once more, an intimate whisper in Nimvahlis' ear. The art of projection, four words that buried a singular anomaly beneath the weight of an answer. He listened as the radiant woman continued, reveling in her hot breath on his skin and the soft figure of her body against his. Yet something snagged, dug new hooks into Nimvahlis and yanked in a new direction. I will find the rift to Ukalas. That phrase struck thousands of old, dusty chords within the Ethaefal. I will find the rift to the Ukalas. The torch dying, Water lapping against his skin, miles of earth above him. I will find the rift, and mend its torn fabric. He leaned in, susurrating into the Konti's ear, "I have that answer, somewhere." Nimvahlis' tongue flitted out and against Callisto’s ear, his fingers sliding to take a handful of her pearly hair. Pulling her head back to expose her neck, his teeth found purchase on her neck. The contact lasted for not more than a second as Nimvahlis released her hair and relinquished his clamped teeth, pulling ever so slightly away to stare at Callisto. His voice, quiet as hers yet tinged with divinity, spoke to her, ”You have the ship to sail, but not the coordinates for the new world.” His hand lightly massaged the back of her neck as he continued, ”yet how will you discover the rift’s location?”

[Callisto]

The audacity, to touch her, and deliver his strings as if she was a mere puppet to do as he wished. And maybe, slowly, that was what was happening. She was drawn like a moth to the light, sucked in, wanting more. It disgusted her. She was an independent individual. The mortal world was something so easily swept aside, but having found another Ethaefal had been a breaking point for her. She was coming to terms with her reality, but she was stubborn all the same. Callisto had a goal, and she will reach it, but this night would be left to her desires. She could feel something sinking into her skin. The hand on her neck, that magnetic feeling as if something was crawling in her head. Her hand still clutched the suvai, so tight her knuckles turned far paler than normal. He was a magician, he was no friendly, normal stranger. He was manipulating her! Ah, but there was doubt in her mind. Was he manipulating her? Or was it all in her head? The confusion was draining her already, but her hand holding the suvai had found itself pressing against Nimvahlis’ throat, hard enough to cause small droplets of blood to form along the blade. “I could kill you now, Nimvahlis.” She hissed, her other hand rising to grip his shoulder to keep him still. “I could kill you with one sweep of my suvai. A painless death, wouldn’t that be nice? You could return to Leth so quickly, my brother, it‘s almost child‘s play.” Insanity was laced in her words. She couldn’t think straight, not with this heat, his exposed body and his hypnotic antics. Slowly, she drew the blade, forming a thick incision along his throat. The poison transferred would weaken him, but not to the point of collapsing, after all, she still wanted him standing upright. She didn‘t bat an eye when he pulled her head back and nipped at her neck. She allowed him to do so. His touch left a burning sensation on her skin, as if it was on fire, yet her composure was calm as she spoke. “I’ll humor you. I will find the answers I seek throughout Mizahar. I will find these coordinates to ascend to the celestial plane and greet our people again.” A smile tugged at her lips, as she brought a hand up to stroke Nim’s cheek. “When night and day unite, what do they become? A shadow of what they once were, or something more?” It was becoming unbearable, this wait. But there was something about him that through her off. Despite her own intentions, she tore away from him, walking off toward her Gildling, Glo, who was leisurely grazing not a meter away. “If you have enough strength, come to me.” And then you will have what you want. Unity.

[Nimvahlis]

As the woman who made sparks jump in his chest and blood run down his neck sauntered away, Nimvahlis deliberately touched the laceration. Each motion pronounced, he dragged two fingers along its length. Crimson fluid collected on them, and the acute fire burning in his neck dulled as if he'd stepped into the pond. Numbness superseded psin, creeping along his neck until a good portion of it fell to the lack of sensation. Blood trickled from his digits as he held them out, dampening the grass with its blackish droplets. I could kill you now... Child's play. Her threats echoed in his head as his eyes absent watched the dripping. A shadow, fleeting and feminine, approached in his periphery. Her figure pounced, claws outstretched. I could kill you... Nimvahlis' head jerked sideways, throwing his attention upon the new figure, yet only gloomy outlines greeted him. Hoary eyes turned to Callisto, waiting near Glo. Almost invitingly? Nimvahlis felt weariness prick at his delicate nerve endings while shaking muscles threaten collapse. Yet silken webs had already snared the Konti, and overwhelming compulsions beckoned him to the fruits of passion. What great heights shall we discover? Walking the clouds and clasping the sun between outstretched arms, we shall blow the dust from divinity and reclaim ubiquity. For who among mortals is more fit to be a god than an Ethaefal? The numb patch grinning on Nim's neck slipped into sublimity as his legs carried him forth, to the woman waiting by the horse. "Callisto." The word evoked euphoria in Nim's head, arousal running rampant in a smoldering brain. Amusement found his eyes as he once more neared her, "You continue to flee from me, yet I know what you desire. Why is it that you evade fulfillment?" Nimvahlis' volcanic hand gently gripped Callisto's right wrist, the fire she inspired seeping into milky skin. Luminous teeth laughed at her inhibitions as the Ethaefal crooned, "You will not drift again, let us instead flirt with discovery. What does happen when the night and day unite?" His free hand snaked around Callisto's waist to rest in the small of her back. Pulling her closer, the smile evaporated from Nimvahlis' face as his lips enveloped the Konti's for a brief moment. A hammer beat against his chest as anticipation built and swayed in the soft breeze of their breath, which came more quickly now. Weakness still trembled in his muscles, but the timid tugs at his strength did little to overcome his lust. His eyes watched hers, awaiting the elicitation of protest or another threat as the tiny magnets in his body pulled at her longing.