Closed Life and Death upon the stones

[Fallon]

24th Winter 514 AV
Dawn

Morning, or near as. The colours had painted their way across the sky, the velvet black blurring out into the shades of reds and purples. Beyond the streaked colours faded out into the strips of blue, before at last dipping out into little more than that grey nothing. There was the cool silence, the sounds that would be seen as native to a coast line being absent, wrapped instead by the morning fog that was quickly being burned off by the slither of sunlight. And it was there, with her perch upon the cool stone, the pebbles having been rounded here by the weathering of the tides - unlike the sharper stones that existed further up towards and past the steep cliffs. Fallon's eyes turned upwards, chasing the shadows back across the surfaces, the shapes dancing to and fro as she watched them change, grow and then diminish with the changing of light.

Still, it was with that still frame in her mind that Fallon turned her gaze back to the relatively quiet strip of beach she had taken up - undisturbed for the most part and left to her own devices. The other inhabitants of the island did not seemed to mind if she was absent. A visiting pulser, nothing more or less - even if she was the leading lady of the Scars. Still, the absent of eyes meant she could partake in other things, understand and learn more about those skills that would most often be shunned by others. Pursing her lips she inhaled, her attention turning down to her bare hands and the digits that wiggled back. Around her the equipment lay, coat discarded and the blades with it. Sleeves were rolled back, hands clapping together in an attempt to snatch her focus back to what was important.

Reimancy, fire and the successful making of it. Holding her hands apart she began her focus, slow and careful as the palms mirrored each other. Fingers begun their curl inwards, clawing and tensing as she plucked upon her djed. Rivulets, her mind pressed the mental image, dipping back to the description that had been given to her previously. Her jaw tightened, summoning forth the illusion of ink, the racing black of djed that formed into the movement of the quill - herself - and then the inevitable creation of words. Her throat tightened, lips peeling back into a slither as she felt the chill set in. That push, the itch of her palms as the Res gave a bubble, sticking and congregating upon the palms of her hand. The dark green rolled, cheeks puffing as it peeled off from the palms and hovering between in a globule.

Limbs gave a shake, her right hand peeling back and away as the other turned to cup beneath the Res. Inhaling deeply in she watched it, lips curing round in pleasure - success thus far, she figured as she held it there above her flesh. Nostrils flared, her attention slipping once more as she took in the surroundings. Higher now, though barely, the sun had barely managed to cusp the horizon. The orbs gave a blink, her eyes snatching back down as she willed the Res into shape, rounded, smooth, ball like in nature and context. It rippled as she ran a finger across the edge, her mind slowly thinking and pushing it around across up to the clawed fingers. It was lured, hovering across and resting at the tip of her finger as she watched it - studying as she held it there. It was slowly that the ring and little finger curled inwards to the palm, the others stretching out as the orb of Res hovered there teasingly.

Now, it was time to make it from ink and into a passage. Stretching out her arm slowly, she pointed it up the pebbled beach, back straightening and the index and forefinger still pointing forward. A suck in of the cold air, a chilling of her core - calming, soothing, leaving everything under her control, do not let impulse get the better of her. Lips were wet, the rolling natural accent escaping forth with all its lilting. A prompt was spoken, "Be fire. Vaknui." A ripple in response, the surface gave a tremble as she stared it down and forced her will upon it. Teeth flashed, her eyes narrowing down upon it as she spoke the word again, "Vaknui."

The outer layer seared into flame, swirling tendrils of heat that hovered and licked upon the air. She pressed, thinking of the layers of the Res, the fuel it supplied to the fire and what kept it going. Aiming upon a rocky outcrop, she looked down the length of her arm to it, another inhale as she held it there ready. Her mind searched for a word, fingers tingling at the warmth that now radiated. Forward, movement, shoot, charge towards, she gave a swallow the bitter taste now strong in her mouth as she brought out the sensation of simply throwing it forward and in the desired direction and simultaneously igniting the remaining Res. Her arm whipped back, the snapping hold upon it sending it shooting forward at a steady rate - wild and burning. Slipping further beyond her control, she sent her will chasing after it. Firmer, controlling, it was hers to manipulate and rule over.

"Vaknui!" Her arm fell, watching after it as it flickered and burned into flames, far beyond her control now and inevitably burned itself out with a crackling hiss. She muttered to herself, "Petching hai this is hard."

[Rayage]

The nuit had started her ascent of the citadel long before the sun even began to mark a new day, or, at least when she thought it was about that time. It was hard to tell inside Sahova, where days seemed to run into each other and time had no meaning other than marking the progress of wizard’s achievements. It was endless work all for the good of the old land, the ancient empire of Alahea. However, Rayage couldn’t help but notice that things were changing beyond the daily routine of work. There were more pulsers in Sahova than there have been in a long time, and each one of them seemed eager to get what Sahova had to offer. Vultures, all of them.

Climbing more and more steps the Sahvoan Master, marked by the golden ring on her finger, made her way purposely up and up and up, and eventually leading out of the citadel itself. Past the courtyard she walked, past the great vestibule, out the gates, and towards the shore of Sahova. Following the road which the carriage took, escorting newcomers and visitors alike, she was prepared to walk, and really preferred to get there with her own two feet. The wind played upon the morning sky as she emerged, the darkness of night was slowly fading as she walked up the road, towards her destination.

The Master usually didn’t bother herself with the external affairs of Sahova, but this one is equally suspicious. Sahova, in all its underhanded politics, would bring in Pulsers from Sunberth no less? They were not slaves. She had to see this rag tag group for herself, just to satisfy her own curiosity, perhaps being able to glimmer why the island would go through such trouble as to bring even more mortals to this place. Yes, that was right, she was curious. Curious as to the potential that these people had, and rumor had it that their leader liked the coastline by the docks of Sahova, just a little out of the way. They might be guests, but they also were watched very closely.

As she walked the sun peaked out more and more, marking the new day. Another day. The shadows began to shrink even more and the sky was being painted in the colors of renewal, and there in the distance stood a lone figure which jutted out of the coastline. It must be her. Moving closer the nuit watched in silence as the figure seemed to be concentrating, absorbed in its task. From behind the nuit could not tell if it was a male or female she was watching, but nonetheless it mattered little. From the style of dress she could only assume a person who lived a hard life, Sunberth was no laughing matter. The features seemed ridged, as whatever the person was doing it required great concentration and effort on their behalf.

Rayage watched there for a moment, a chime passing, and another, and another… Then words, heard faintly in the breath of the wind. It sounded like Nader-Canoch. Stepping forward as to hear better, the nuit got close enough to hear the final, forceful command as the ball of fire swooped from the practicing wizards control and fickled out into nothingness.

Having seen the display the nuit clapped her hands together a few times, approaching the young wizard, ”Good show.” she said with a condescending smile. She would lower her arms to her sides and take the others form in, unblinkingly staring at the figure in a way only a nuit could. Her deep, dark purple steel cloth cloak covered most of her body. Exposed were her hands and her face. The cloak shrouded and covered the rest in an almost passively rippling way. On the back of the cloak was the symbol of the snake eating its own tail, a sign of change, a sign of eternity and renewal. Her right adorned with both the a ring of simple iron encrusted with two blue stones, which granted her the appearance of life, and her golden Masters Ring which possessed a simple looking alchemy circle with a blue gemstone on either side, representing the Fount and Filter, the keys to change itself. Her face was rather plain, bordered by black hair, bangs cut neatly with an obsessive attention to detail straight across just above her eyebrows. Hair draped across her shoulders and its length was enough to touch her chest, snaking around the back at the same length as well. Her eyes were a piercing green which possessed an ancient light in them, knowledge and many years of life seemed to almost exude from them. Her expression was calm, almost friendly for nuit standards.

The fire, she saw the fire and smiled, hoping that she had the others attention, ”You must be Mistress Redwolf.” She said the title as if it were nothing but a joke, but there a serious tone in her eyes as she took another step forward noting the ‘Mistresses’ things scattered on the ground about her, ”I am Master Rayage,” she introduced herself with a little more enthusiasm than she said the Redwolfs name, ”Of the Citadel of Sahova.” there was evident pride in her voice, ”I have come to ask you your business here, as the last time your kind came to this island there was… disagreements. I ever do wonder what Sahova wants with a bunch of Sunberthians.” she scoffed, ”Sunberth is nothing but a pit of thieving rats, and you call yourself a wolf?” The master eyed the mistress up and down.

”Ill have you know that you, and your people, are being watched. Your every move, and so if you even think about stealing from this isle,” she grinned, eyes narrowing in suspicion and distaste, ”you better rethink your plan. Especially if you try to use that fireball. I just don’t see what Sahova could want with you, which is why I came here myself.” However, Rayage couldn’t admit that the person before her was entirely daft, like she put on a show, for she knew at least one word in the ancient tongue, a long dead language. There must be some sort of scholar within that wolf-rats hide.

[Fallon]

The clapping came, piercing and cutting through the silence of her focus, that whisper of a voice breaking out with its dried sarcasm and those subtle curls of lips that went with it. Her back straightened, the tip of the chin upwards in response and flickering of those orbs to the human seeming. For the moment she was silent, eyes looking, absorbing and drinking in what was before her - understand, know, learn. Her lips set into a line, nostrils twitching as the faint ocean breeze greeted her with salt, and then that lingering scent of decay within the darkness of those eyes. It rested there in her mind, solidify as she searched the possibilities, and the promptly put them down for the other observations.

"My kind? Of what kind do you speak? I am many kinds yet all so few," Lids gave a pinch, narrowing as her ears twitched straining for those changes in pitch and the tones that went with it. Piercing, searching and investigating. Taking a stoop, Fallon gathered up her gloves feeling the worn leather between her fingers before tugging them on - first the right, and then the left - her voice slow and calm despite the rough adopted tones of her Bitzer voice, "Human kind? There are many of us, there," she pointed out to the horizon then "and here within the citadel. But I feel that is not the point you are going for," Lips pulled back, a flicker of teeth and the eyes catching the shape barely upon the cloak, and her brow frowning at the symbol and then easing off. Familiar, but she could not place where presently, "No, it's something much more specific. Is it not?" She straightened, meeting that judging look with a cold, iron expression - unmoving and unflinching. It was to be expected in honesty, most of the nuit had given her such a similar look. Condemning before truly knowing.

"Well, I can agree with that somewhat, " there was the grasping of the coat then, but it was little more than pulled around her shoulders and left to hang there. The weaponry came next, care taken with them as once more they were secured upon the belt and fitted into place. Her lip curled, eyes flickering and calculating the words that were spoken. Tally up the slander, find the direction it was aimed and pointed in, exploit it, "A bold accusation, never the less. Barely into a first meeting and you are already calling me a common thief. But, I shall not argue or doubt your wonderful judge of character. Such a talent, your peers must be envious of such skill."

Her thumb gave a rest upon the belt, hanging the arm there as she took a more solidified stance. It became a game really, circling of words and the fight of wits between others. Her attention locked down upon Rayage, the mental mapping out of the scene replaying in her head. The pure intent focus having found its target and now would not let go, "Call myself wolf, do I? Oh of course, how silly of me to forget. And condemning me now? Oh woe it shall be," the low chuckle escaped, "I shall be sure to act the part upon your request and peruse your belongings at the first possible moment, Master Rayage."

Those threats did not go past her however, the self made decision on who she was before knowing and understanding the full picture, "Yet Sahova and its council called me," her tone was matter-of fact then, "So, it is them you will have to discuss it with. But you have claimed that Sahova is always knowing and always watching, my," Her teeth gave a flash then, "I never knew your kind were so perverse and keen to watch such acts." The expression returned once more behind that steeling gaze, "So astute, you know my plans already it seems Master of Sahova, what a genius and wise being you must be to link two strings together and tie them. I'm sure the council will be pleased with your investigation. Perhaps you would next like to guess my boot size and relay such information to the council as well?"

[Rayage]

The nuit stood there, staring at the woman in front of her as she argued the accusations. The gaze of the undead did not leave the womans face. Her expression was blank, her stare immortal as she tried to not react to the thought provoking words being spewed at her. Such disrespect from an outsider was a mistake. Summoned by the council or not, the master could make the rest of her stay very miserable on the island. However, she pushed such thoughts to the back of her mind, not taking offense to the words being said to her. Instead she welcomed the challenge. It has been such a long time since she had some time to play a game or two.

As Fallon went on the nuits mouth turned a slight slant, a small smile towards the womans words and actions. The expression growing in humor as time went on, the dull and lifeless look being washed from the nuits face now. This human was too amusing not give such attention to, and when she was finished the nuit couldn’t help but to laugh, a dark hollow sound. Her gaze shifted from the ‘wolf’ who had bared her fangs to the shore and waves behind her on the dull island.

”It has been far too long since anyone has dared talk to me like that.” Rayage told her looking off into the distance, her eyes not focusing on something outside, but inner. It was like she was silently contemplating a memory, reliving it again through the interaction with the wolf. Some humanity still lingered in the old soul, clinging on, not wanting to be forgotten. There a faint light, a familiar humanity in the eyes of the nuit, that flashed for a moment before she came back to this moment here.

She took a couple steps forward towards the shore, closer to the rolling waves before abruptly stopping, ”Most of the living have not made a good name for themselves here.” she warned, ”The past builds on future expectations, I am sure that much even you can understand.” Her insults not being as blatant as they were before.

”I have to wonder sometimes why the council is so dependent on the humans, calling you here instead of handling things internally. It is of my opinion that matters should be handled privately and as securely as possible. That is, unless you are collecting us bodies. Even then your motivation is most likely Miza.” That was what she both liked and disliked about humans. You can trust them as much as you can pay them.

”Humans are a weak willed, most are. A meek, careful race the majority. They don’t dare to question what lay beyond. I guess, most don’t have the luxury to question or ponder such things in this harsh new world.” It was like she was talking to herself, having forgotten Mistress Red Wolf standing by her. The nuit letting her thoughts flow from her.

”You, however, are different.” she returned her attention to the woman by her, looking back at her, ”That much can be heard by the words you speak. Your difference sets you apart, surely, but is that such a good thing?”

[Fallon]

"Dared or merely bothered put in the effort?" Fallon raised a brow, "It's awfully easy to just to accept being peer pressured and bullied into submission, surrender and just allow the whims to another to overrule. Perhaps it is just strength of character that makes one so daring," the woman shrugged and let the thought merely sit there for the moments that passed. Whatever this Rayage wanted she could not tell, perhaps she was merely testing the waters out - looking for something or garnering for a slither of insight to the plans of the council.

"The past builds many things. And while one should look back and respect it, they should not allow themselves to be weighed down and defined by it," Her gaze shifted after what the other was looking at, was she merely looking into space to collect her thoughts or had something caught her attention. Her ears twitched to the words, recording and recapping the attitude in which she was spoken to - it was like she was something more, a nuit with a fresh body perhaps? Yet what made her look so alive. Fallon chewed upon her lip, and promptly moved on, "We define ourselves in the present and look to what could be in the future. Though, what is to say that I know anything in your rather grand shadow."

That laugh left a chill upon her spine, the scars within her back twitching and clenching tightly for a moment. It was with a sharp inhale that Fallon simply allowed herself to close her eyes and drag forth a sense of composure. It reminded her of him, and that left the distinctive feeling of unease in her stomach. With a crack of the lid she slid the orb back to Rayage and merely offered words, "Perhaps it is a matter that is being handled privately and securely as possible, which is perhaps why you do not know all the detailing of it. Don't want to risk such information falling into the wrong hands and a rival to gain an edge."

It was Fallon's turn to laugh then, "So quick to decide. Has mortal-kind proved such a track record over the years that we are brought off by the Miza?" With a shake of the head, her teeth broke to reveal a slither of white. How quick to judge, "Coin, it is merely a shiny object that while serves as a currency it has very little use. Much like most possessions, is it a tool or has it become a luxury? The latter, alas, has little interest to me beyond simply being a temporary means to an end. You cannot feed a starving people with gold and trinkets. Tools and power however? Perhaps." She let the thought slide away.

"Alas, so weak we are. How soon would you like me to get down and clean your boots with my tongue? Or is that not weak willed enough for such a wonderful, powerful and elusive being such as yourself? A being that has to pick and harvest from such creatures in order to preserve their life and live onwards. How superior you are when you are so dependent on us agreeing and doing your duties," She returned the gaze, eyes narrowing, "You make it sound as if you are old and crotchety. Age is but a number, it is what you do with the time that is important."

"Different? I do not fancy myself particularly different," she looked away then and down to the shore. With a stoop she plucked up two pebbles that had been laying stray there. With a turn she felt the smoothed edges and bumps before placing them into her palm and offering them over to the Nuit in show.

"Pretend, for a moment, that humans are of stone. And here we are on a beach full of them. Hundreds, no, thousands of them all made of the same material, all placed in a similar manner from the elements around. But, it's only when you stoop down and pluck one up that one is able to see the differences. The individual bumps, the different colourations, the way the surface cracks and runs beneath ones thumb," She split the pebbles, placing one into each gloved hand.

"You'll see that every one of them is different, and that every one of them has their own tale behind them. Perhaps it is not as fancy as others, perhaps they did not do as much in their life to become weathered and tumbled by the elements. But, they are all unique and different in their own manners. It's merely by no longer categorising them as all the same that you get to see who they are." Sighing, she tossed the pebbles back to the floor and watched them roll, "Whether or not that is a good or bad thing however, I do not know. I guess it depends on the one who is looking at them."