Summoning the Desert Heat

by **Gwin** on January 9th, 2015, 2:42 pm

As soon as she spoke of her worries, Gwin felt their weight sinking on her shoulders once again. Noticing his gaze upon her sheets, she pressed her lips together and rolled the parchment up in a few quick motions. It contained embarrassment, but she was also annoyed at her own imperfections. The song she’d hummed, then sung with the Benshira had sounded more sincere, more vivid. Of course, it had been polished by generations of desert people sitting at their campfires, but Gwin had grown tired of excuses a long time ago.

As the parchment disappeared into her satchel, Hirem laid his hand on her shoulder. At first she flinched, unfamiliar with such displays of emotion, but the warmth of his palm soothed her. His understanding did too. Although her Akvatari nature told her to disregard his feelings, to dismiss them as trivial since he lacked the furry tail and wings, that one time her longing for companionship was stronger. Although she wanted to interrupt his speech, she bit back the words.

They were still bubbling up and she could barely contain them until he finished. “What if it’s inevitable though? What if the search commands me to sacrifice control over myself in order to achieve what I’ve been looking for? Don’t tell me it’s not worth sacrificing everything for…” Because it was. Gwin believed Hirem knew that too, so she said no more. His warning had reminded her of her conversation with the witch less than a season ago, when she’d been caught in a web woven of an immense darkness she’d never experienced before. What if Evalin asked her to abandon her identity?

Her brow furrowed when he mentioned the gods. What had they ever given her? She certainly wouldn’t follow their path, not without a good reason and some convincing. The next moment, however, he answered her question. The architect of your own journey… There was that, so profound, so easy to forget. “Thank you,” she offered eventually, “for your kind warning. I guess I needed it. You were pulling the words from experience, right? What is it that you’re looking for?”

The nervous fever they’d been talking of seemed to die down and settle between them. Alements grew quieter as the last remnants of their music disappeared, people returned to their drinks and conversations. Gwin realized her tea had grown cold a long time ago and asked for a fresh pot. Once it arrived with a second cup, she offered it to Hirem.

by **Hirem** on January 13th, 2015, 3:32 pm

At the sight of Gwin hurriedly stuffing the unfinished song sheet into her satchel, Hirem immediately worried that he had accidentally offended. His first instinct was to apologize and assure her that, from what he saw, the music appeared to be in excellent form, but he curbed that impulse and instead kept quiet. And then, when she flinched at his touch, the Benshira had to stop himself from pulling his hand back. It was hard to remember that he had little knowledge yet of casual conversation, when the atmosphere of the Alements was so bewitching. There was something about this tavern that inspired Hirem, that gave cause for the words buried deep within himself to come surging forth, that managed to counteract the inherent awkwardness he felt when he tried to speak with others. After all, he had been a hermit for nine years, and when he travelled with companions in the desert, they had almost always been his own people. It was easy for him to let his guard slip around Yahal's children, for he had familiar rituals to cling to and common ground to rely upon. But this exercise of chatting, with people that he had never imagined he'd meet in a hundred years, was still comparatively new for him. I take it from the fact that Gwin has not dismissed me from the table yet, that I have not erred too greatly. I can only hope that will remain the case.

Thankfully the Akvatari seemed to be listening to his warning, although he could still see some stubborn drive within her. “What if it’s inevitable though? What if the search commands me to sacrifice control over myself in order to achieve what I’ve been looking for? Don’t tell me it’s not worth sacrificing everything for…" She asked, and Hirem had no ready answer available for her. He wanted to tell her that it wasn't, that there was no reward worth surrendering one's self for, but he wasn't entirely sure if that was correct. After all, I never had a taste of success in my own crusade for greatness. Sure, I had deluded myself into thinking that it always just around the bend, remaining tantalizingly out of reach... but that was far, far from the truth. Would my suffering have been worth it all, if I only had managed to seize hold of my prize? The question was a moot point, since, in this case, Hirem and Gwin's journeys differed too greatly for comparison. She does not seem the sort to pick up a sword and start ending lives left and right. In that regard, at least she is guaranteed to walk a more peaceful path than mine. To answer her question, Hirem offered her only a stare, turning the question back upon her. Would her goal be worth the sacrifice? Would it be worth the loss of her self?

Gratefully accepting the tea cup that was offered, the Benshira filled it to the brim from the pot and took a gentle sip. The taste was odd, very different from the sort of teas that he might have found in Yahebah - too sweet, he figured - but the aroma was intoxicating and pleased him immensely. While he drank, Hirem considered Gwin's words, "What is it that you’re looking for?” mulling over them quietly. It was quite a question, one that he might have answered more easily when he first came to Riverfall, but was now obscured by the wealth of experiences he had known within the city walls. It was hard to make sense of them all, to figure out the shape of his journey from within the history. Eventually, he set the cup down and leaned forward. "I came to this city looking for my god," he murmured, nodding. "I had been attacked in the desert by a vicious beast and lay dying, and might have perished if a caravan bound for Riverfall had not stumbled upon me. Just before they found me, I had come to a decision that wandering Eyktol aimlessly was not what Yahal had intended for me, and that there must be some sign from him that I was missing... so, as you can imagine, I seized upon the chance to visit Riverfall. I wanted a purpose, you see, for my life had grown empty for the past four years. My family had perished and I knew not where my Tent travelled. I had no desire to return to Yahebah. I was out of options, and needed to start anew."

"When I got here... well, I received what I had asked for. Everything changed; I met friends and made enemies, took up a job and learned about this city. I am now living an entirely different life, and I like it. But..." And here was the most difficult part of it all, articulating the inarticulate, gnawing feelings that plagued at his heart and soul. "Something feels wrong. I have the opportunity to do something great, to be a part of something truly amazing, yet my feet tremble to start me down the road. I keep imagining that there is another Hirem that I can become, one that is truly happy and in charge of his own family, and I wonder how that Hirem might be found. Every night I wake up sweating, dreaming of the past and wishing it were not so. Six days ago I met a boy out in the streets, trembling in the cold and penniless, and I wondered how many more like him there are, and why I'm not doing my utmost to help them. There is a..." He tried to express the aching emptiness that resided at the core of his being, and found himself incapable of bringing voice to the feeling. After all, I have nothing to complain of. My life is simple, good. I have friends in high places throughout the city, and they are the type of generous spirit that I can only remain in awe of. Kavala has given me a drive to rejoin Nysel's faithful and advance his cause throughout the world. I have nothing to complain of. So why do I feel empty? "I am unsure of what it is that I am looking for, Gwin. There is too much to life to break all the components down and find what it is I'm missing. All I can do is trust in my god, step forward, and believe that the path will take me to where I'm needed."

by **Gwin** on January 24th, 2015, 6:23 pm

OOCSry for the delay! Exams are happening next week.

He didn’t answer and that was an answer in itself. Perhaps he’d run out of arguments. She wanted him to agree though. Perhaps his silence said that he didn’t have the answer either, that he wouldn’t dare to answer a question that had been with a certain kind of person for as long as history itself. It seemed that people like Gwin and Hirem had asked themselves and others since the beginning of time and were still searching for some kind of hint. Whatever it was, Gwin wouldn’t stray from her path simply to protect herself. What was she if not that? Surely he understood too.

The Akvatari poured her tea with practiced care. She’d frequented establishments like that before. Anything stronger than tea left her either disgusted or exhausted. Coffee made her tremble, alcohol dimmed her senses and silenced the music. Tea was the closest to water, her elixir of life. In Zeltiva it had been bitter, tasting like the sea, but Rivarians had a finer taste. So she sipped with appreciation.

Despite her disenchantment with any and all gods, Gwin listened to the Benshira’s tale with interest. If nothing else, they were devices used in ballads, after all. And what she heard certainly sounded like ballad material. Perhaps he’d lend her his voice one more time if she came up with the words… Shaking her head lightly, she tried to focus. Her wings twitched, catching light in a haze of blue and green. Surprisingly, the way he spoke of his journey reminded her of something she’d heard before. Searching for a god far from the people who worshipped Him seemed like an interesting idea. Gwin, too, had journeyed far from her people, the lair of her music, to learn different ways to play.

When he tried to describe the problem, the words came more slowly, forced. Gwin only spoke when she was sure he had nothing to add. “Maybe you’re afraid. Nobody can know what the future holds, but you think it won’t be what you envisioned for yourself, what you wanted to be from the beginning. But how can you know you won’t enjoy the path you see before your feet? You have to try it to find out.”

As she was grasping for words, ever so carefully, a mild smile bloomed on her features, the first since they’d met. Gwin could relate, oh she could! Suddenly compassion for that man who was so much like her overwhelmed her. She could only embrace it, the music, the confusion, everything. Just like that she leaned forward, tail curling against the leather, to embrace him. By then, any and all inconvenience of touching him had evaporated, washed away by stronger feelings. “And maybe you wish to help others like you were helped by the people you met here. There’s nothing wrong with that, giving back to others what you’ve been taking. All you need a point to start, you know, an idea.”

Then she blinked. Trust in my god… There it was again, the one thing she couldn’t possibly understand. “How do you do that? Have you spoken to your god? Forgive me, but… I couldn’t trust in something that might or might not exist.” A sigh escaped from deep in her chest. That thing others had with gods… the Akvatari still thought it silly.

by **Hirem** on January 27th, 2015, 6:38 am

OOCHey, no worries! My exams are starting next week, so I will be getting slower as a result.

“Maybe you’re afraid."

What? Hirem thought, taken aback by the statement. The idea seemed ludicrous. Of all the things that could be plaguing him, that could be souring his mood, Hirem had never imagined that it might be fear holding him back... he knew what fear looked like, and it did not look like the streets of Riverfall. Just because I am not living in a nightmare, he reminded himself, does not mean that there is no room for fear. Closing his eyes, he focused on what Gwin was saying, took to heart her every word. "Nobody can know what the future holds, but you think it won’t be what you envisioned for yourself, what you wanted to be from the beginning." Again, he found it difficult to accept this as something that applied to him. I have gone well past the point where I had to accept I was not living the life I dreamed that I would have. Anything in the future is better than what I have faced in the past.

And yet, whenever he imagined himself joining the ranks of the Cytali, or starting a business in the city, or leaving this place for his true calling, he felt a small hint of dread prickling at the back of his neck. It is a life I have never experienced, he realized, clenching and unclenching his fingers. I have faced death and danger before, but I don't know how to live a - a normal life. How to survive in society. How to deal with other people. I've been spared that trouble because I chose to live extraordinarily. Now that I'm here, I'm scared... scared of failing. Scared of losing. Scared of going back to the way things were.

But he couldn't accept that fear, not if it ended up crippling him at the time he needed to be most alert. This season will change a great many things for me, he thought, thinking of the green-eyed boy, the talk with Rosela, the horror he had experienced with Marion Kay. I need to be certain that this is the road I wish to travel, and set upon it with no doubts. I may not be cut out for life as others understand it, but I have to try. Elsewhere, the words of Gwin comforted him. "But how can you know you won’t enjoy the path you see before your feet? You have to try it to find out.” Nodding gently, the Benshira glanced upwards and smiled at the Akvatari. "You are right," he murmured, taking a gentle sip of tea.

He accepted her prescription not just because it was wise, but also because it sounded like the words of Yahal himself. How can you know you won't enjoy the path you see before your feet... Gwin does not realize it, but she has just described the central ideal the Lord of Faith upholds. He did not know who the Akvatari offered their prayers to - or even if they had religious beliefs at all - but he offered a silent commendation to Yahal on behalf of his newly-discovered friend. May you guide her path and see her reach that promised land she seeks, my lord. May she discover the music in her heart, and may she never have to let that go. Give her happiness, my lord. She has earned that much.

No sooner had he finished his silent prayer than Gwin surprised him yet again, this time without speaking at all. He could not follow the motion of the Akvatari's tail - perplexed as he was by the appearance of a creature with an actual tail! - and so he was completely unprepared for the furred appendage suddenly snaking under the table to approach him. His first reaction was to surge out of his seat, but a quick glance to Gwin's sweet face reminded him that he was under no threat from her. Gripping onto his armrests, Hirem allowed the tail to come closer, cursing to himself that this wasn't the time to let something as small as a tail disturb him.

He instead redirected his attention to her words, letting them nestle deep inside his heart. “And maybe you wish to help others like you were helped by the people you met here." Quickly forgetting about his minor incident with the tale, Hirem offered the woman a wide smile. Right again, he remarked, feeling a pleasant warmth within his chest. The thought of giving back to Riverfall, of taking the time to contribute to the community, immediately helped to lessen the burden that had been placed upon his heart. I know I have the spirit to help, and the will to make things change for the better around this city... perhaps the key to taking my new path with courage is to find kindness in my heart?

Thoughts of the green-eyed boy, and what other secret tragedies might be hiding in the streets, absorbed him.

But he only let himself be distracted for a moment, returning his focus just in time to catch Gwin's question. "Have you spoken to your god? Forgive me, but… I couldn’t trust in something that might or might not exist.” Frowning, the Benshira leaned back in his seat and steepled his fingers. Perhaps I was correct in thinking the Akvatari did not offer worship? He was confused by the woman's doubt, but found that her answer was already willing itself to his lips. "Well, how can you bring yourself to trust in your dream? How can you trust that there is music within your heart?" His eyes grew fixed upon hers, and he offered her a knowing smile. "You may be able to hear this music as clear as day, but I cannot hear a thing. Should I think that your dream is nothing more than madness, then?"

Leaning across the table to her, Hirem braved the distance and set his hand upon hers. He gripped her fingers tenderly, nodding his head. "There will come a day when you realize that the gods are indeed real, Gwin. There will come a day when you see one before you, full and immense in its glory, and you might be so lucky as to receive its Gnosis." Realizing that she might not understand what he referred to, he used his other hand to draw an imaginary circle on his cheek. "Gnosis is the reward a god grants to their faithful. It is a symbol of their power engraved onto the flesh... there is no proof needed more tangible than that. But until that fateful day comes, you don't need proof to understand what my faith means to me. Just imagine that it is the same as your music; a power greater than I can understand, drawing me forward and encouraging me daily to push past all limits."

Content with his explanation, Hirem gave one final nod and squeezed her hand gently, understanding only then that he was perhaps imposing something unwanted on her. Retreating his arm immediately, the Benshira's cheeks grew flushed and he glanced at the nearby tables. "It has grown very late," he sputtered, aware of the increasingly intimate nature of this conversation. We have only known each other a bell and already her... tail is getting comfortable with me. "I, ah... I should be off." Hirem turned his head and stared over a the door, thinking that he should get up and excuse himself from Gwin's presence, but finding that he had no strength to make the attempt. Instead drawing the cup of tea back to his lips, the Benshira took a deep breath. "So... would you... would you sing something else for me?" The question shocked him when he heard it, but Hirem prevented himself from taking it back. You can't make too great an ass of yourself all at once. Give her a moment to breathe. Hopefully she has some reason to turn my offer down.

by **Gwin** on February 1st, 2015, 8:17 pm

OOCI was actually trying to convey that she hugs him for a brief moment, but the tail thing sounds interesting too. A lot weirder...

Gwin furrowed her brow as she sipped tea. His reply came a little too fast for her taste, inviting doubt as to the thought he’d spent on its truth. How could he say things like that when it didn’t matter whether others heard her music or not? She played her violin to let it be heard, after all. The longer she listened to his words, however, the more she came to embrace the consolation they offered.

As did his warm hand upon hers. Perhaps it was her imagination, but the Akvatari liked to think his touch carried a hint of the desert sun, its blazing heat in it. Just like she’d offered hope and clarity to him, Gwin appreciated how he gave it back to her. She wanted to believe his words, she truly wholeheartedly did. But the thing was that Gwin had wanted to believe in something for most of her life. She’d been looking for something that gave her hope like their God did to the Benshira, that provided a spiritual home and maybe explained her heritage like their Goddess did to the Konti.

It was from the gentle fortune tellers that she knew what a gnosis was, but she felt like interrupting Hirem at that point would’ve destroyed something between them. Instead she let his words sink in and felt for the echo of his touch. “So music can be like your God, aye? I like that. It’s something I can understand too.” Hadn’t she heard something about a God of music? Or a Goddess? Could’ve been in Zeltiva.

Either way, if it meant she could believe in something that would lead her towards faith in divinity, she accepted it. While she was still pondering, Hirem changed. First his hand retreated, then his gaze avoided hers. Gwin took a sip of tea, slightly amused at the color in his cheeks.

Her old self wouldn’t even have noticed it, but the person she had become during the past season did. Still, she was hardly flattered, only amused. Who knew, maybe he did have somewhere to be, a loved one to return to before the end of the night. Despite his words, the Benshira seemed quite rooted in Riverfall. The question earned a grin. “I would like to play a song for you. It’ll be a better thank you than words. Will you listen one more time?”

Still amused, Gwin lifted her violin. As soon as the bow touched the strings, however, all expression fell from her features and she became one with the sound. The melody began with low notes, drawn out in beginning sorrow, but soon rose into hopeful heights.

by **Hirem** on February 4th, 2015, 4:04 am

The more he got to know this Akvatari, this strange woman cobbled together with bewildering pieces, the more Hirem wondered what he might have thought of her if they had first met in Yahebah. Gwin had professed to visiting the city of the Benshira years before, learning their music and getting accustomed with some of their practices. Did she always get accustomed with the warding signs? He wondered, his fingers reflexively moving under the table to perform the gesture. Did she learn the symbol of Boundary, the charm of Forbiddance, the grave eye of Vigilance? Did she watch eyes stare at her warily from the street corners, and children dart away at her presence? There was no doubt in his mind that, if he had met the Akvatari in his youth, he would have treated her with the same paranoia most Rivarians treat Zith with.

It really was silly, the simple-minded fear most Benshira wielded against the unknown. They welcomed most with open arms and wide gates, inviting the unfortunate to their fires for supper. Even Hirem in his darkest hour had supped freely among his people’s tents, his ugly reputation failing to affect otherwise peaceful evenings. But they had little respect for anything that broke convention, anything that they failed to understand… I love my people, but I think I may have grown to love the Rivarians more. Here, anyone is accepted so long as they are good, honourable workers. Sure, Gwin was a very sweet young woman, and the Akvatari bore a reputation as being a tranquil, friendly race. But the Benshira would still treat her with fear because of her wings, her tail, her homeland… they would fear her because she was different.

I will remember this meeting, he told himself, resolved to imprint this firmly into his memory. If nothing else, I shall remember it for Gwin’s songs and her beautiful voice… but also as a sign that not everything that is different should be feared, and that not everyone strange is all that strange. Smiling at the thought, Hirem shook his head idly. And to think, I never would have gotten a chance to experience this had I simply ignored the call of a song.

”I would like to play a song for you,” Gwin offered, and the man’s face grew into a wide smile. Though he had earlier felt the compulsion to leave and avoid presuming too much of a friendship he had just crafted, now he wanted nothing more than to sit and listen to what the Akvatari had to share. ”It’ll be a better thank you than words. Will you listen one more time?” Bowing his head, the Benshira set aside his cup of tea and folded his hands together, sitting up in his seat. ”I would be honoured,” he murmured. Though the tavern grew darker as more candles were extinguished and patrons left the bar, Hirem’s eyes continued to shine through the shadows, bright and chocolate and warm as the desert sun. ”And I promise to make a home for myself here, for your sake as well as mine. If I can find my destiny, then surely you shall as well.” It was the highest honour he could afford his new friend.

And then, she started to sing.

Closing his eyes as the first of Gwin’s melody reached his ears, the Benshira gave a contented sigh and leaned his head back. He let the notes drown his senses, flood into his mind, gave himself up freely to the allure of her tune. There was an anchor tying him to the earth, that kept him grounded and aware of the present moment; Hirem dislodged it, letting him rise listless through the ocean waves, breaking out onto the surface of an endless sea of memory. Her voice, high-pitched and piercing, was the call of the wind itself, dictating the twisting of the tides and carrying Hirem helplessly along with her urgings. The crooning of the violin, long and mourning, was the groan of the waves around, spilling overtop each other in breathless convulsions. There was no land for miles around, and he was glad for it… he did not want to stand on solid ground so soon.

Through hazy visions he travelled, carried aloft by the song of the Akvatari. Like a bird, he soared over the Sea of Grass, his arms spread wide and buffeted by the thrusts of wind. Drykas rode through the eternal fields like ants, so distant from him, suggestions of a world unrealized. He passed Riverfall overhead and watched, for just one brief moment, as the Akalak thrived in the summertime heat. Squinting, he tried to make out the Sanctuary, and found his family standing atop its walls - Kavala waving at him from a great distance. Waving back, Hirem was then swept across the Eyktol border, rocketing over the Dune Sea. And there, in the distance, were the white walls of Yahebah, greeting him with cheers. On every parapet, the Benshira cried for his return, tears staining their cheeks and smiles brightening their faces. Syna herself was shining down on the scene, as if voicing her approval. Far on the horizon, Hirem heard a great rush of air, and knew too that Yahal was watching the scene. Landing smartly on his feet before the great Temple at the centre of the city, the man found himself mobbed by a huge crowd of his friends and family, all reaching out to him and crying out for their precious son. A thousand hands reached for his shoulders, a thousand hands belonging to a thousand different faces, a thousand different names, a thousand different companions. In a great roar, they all screamed out, “Hirem! You are home at last!”

And he was glad to be home, summoned by the desert heat.

Bless you, Gwin of the Akvatari. You possess a gift more powerful than you understand.

by **Gwin** on February 4th, 2015, 2:01 pm

Song :

As Gwin launched into the melody, drawing out each note in delicious vibrato, she closed her eyes and her tail settled down with the tip of her fins barely touching the floor. Only her fingers were dancing upon the wood, her bow tracing the melody and her torso gently rocking back and forth.

Sadness had begun the song and sadness didn’t leave it until the last note, but in between it grew from a mere lament to something greater. The strong fingers of a musician were weaving luminescent hope into the melody, creating sparks of light and epiphany. Just as the music was painting distant lands into Hirem’s mind, reducing the distance between his current home and the desert sands to nothing, just like that Gwin also saw things beyond the rich wood and glass bottles of Alements.

There was Akvatar, a lonely rock of an island, yet enriched by the pastel towers her people had built from scratch. A city for nomads, half empty with the salty wind blowing through holes, it nevertheless was closest to home for her. Then there was a blur of different sights, noises and scents, all the places she’d visited bleeding into one another. They were only present in her mind through the music she’d played at street corners, squares and harbors. The only faces that stood out were those of fellow musicians and singers. The desert sands were only blowing through the hot and passionate music of their inhabitants, the Benshira.

And at the end she found her way back. As her fingers grew heavy with exhaustion and sweet nostalgia, Gwin realized what mattered at the same time. All she could do was continue, travel, listen and share music with everyone. If it burned too hot and reduced her to ashes, the very thing Hirem had warned her of, wasn’t that proof of divine existence?

When the last notes faded and the violin sank into her lap, Gwin greeted the Benshira with a smile. “If you stay, we might meet again.” And that was it. No farewell, no wishes. The music had said it all. Her gaze followed him as he moved. If he found what he was looking for, that was also proof of divine existence, she supposed. In the meantime, Gwin would do her best to endure the sand storms she’d summoned.

by **Rosela** on February 28th, 2015, 3:49 am

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Congratulations! You've Been Awarded:

Gwin :

Hirem :

Notes :

If you have any questions or concerns about what was awarded, don't hesitate to PM me. When you're finished, please edit or delete your grade request from the grading queue.
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Completed Summoning the Desert Heat