Open [SE] Step Into The Light

[Ssezzkero]

21st of Summer, 515AV
9th Bell, Morning
Just outside Riverfall

Nothing about the summer heat was soft. The way the humid air hung on her hair, or the way her clothes stuck to her skin from her own sweat. She enjoyed the heat, not having to worry about the cold of winter, but as the morning grew, the sun heating the earth around her, she started to regret her decision. It was a day of hunting for her. Her last hunting trip had been a disaster, and she hoped to redeem herself. To get back in touch with her inner animal and be a true snake for once. Once she got outside of Riverfall though, she got more and more nervous.

The hair on the back of her neck stuck straight up as she headed down the route towards the Sanctuary. And even though the summer heat was digging through her skin and toasting her bones, she couldn't help the sudden wave of gooseskin, forcing Ker to stop in her tracks. This wasn't a normal reaction to a walk through the woods. She may not be very fresh with her wilderness skills, but she knew herself enough to know she did not fear the woods, especially so close to the city.

And that is when she heard it.

A mere whisper. Not enough to call attention if she hadn't already been listening. Nothing that could be differentiated from the wind kissing the trees. Unless there was no wind. There was a slight morning mist, of which had nearly dispersed and the sun shone through the trees, setting her in a maze of light. The path under her feet was well worn, and she knew it was a straight shot to the Sanctuary or to the city, whichever way she chose to run.

But then she heard it again. Her head snapped to the side where she thought she heard the whisper, whatever it may be saying. She didn't think too much or mull this invisible word over. Perhaps she was imagining it anyway. But something tangible had caught her eye. Don't do it. Sezkero wanted to convince herself, but her feet had already stepped from the path. It wasn't anything dangerous, it was a circle of candles.

In the middle of the forest.

Nothing unusual.

Sezkero looked at it for a second. She could ignore this strange setup. Continue on to the nearest creek, transform into her natural self and start her hunt. But it was a strange enough occurrence to keep her there. Nothing around the candles had been messed with. Not one sign of tampering in the land around the circle. Just a circle, large enough for her to comfortably spread out in. Each candle was made of the plain creamy wax of any candle she may find. But they were tall, embedded into the mossy clearing, and meant to last for hours. What would happen when they burned down to the moss? Apparently someone was not worrying about that.

But what was one the candles interested her. Strange patterns and geometric designs had been carved into the clay. Perhaps they meant something? Sezkero stepped closer, leaning down to get a closer look at the carved wax. Unable to comprehend what they meant, she wrote them off as decoration. But for what?

The snake rose back to her feet. This meant something. Although what it meant, she did not know. Was it a sort of sacrificial circle? Was something meant to go in it? Maybe...

Sezkero looked at the mossy ground around her. A few rocks lay under the greenery and broken branches from who knows what. She had brought nothing with her, intending to be free of clothes and possessions. What could she put in the circle? Would she activate something if she did. The Iyvess was not particularly versed on magic, other than that of personal nature. What could it hurt?

It could hurt quite a lot, actually. A small voice in the Iyvess' head spoke up as she leaned down to wrestle a rock from the earth. She didn't need to imagine much to think that messing with someone else's magic could cause problems. But she smushed the thought quickly. They left, she was curious, what else was she supposed to do? Ignore it?

Feeling the weight of the rock in her hand for a tick, Sezkero straightened up and turned back to the candles. She took a few steps to the side, and then one forward. Her heart had picked up in speed. Adrenaline of the unknown preparing her for the run. "Just do it." Kero urged herself on in her mother's tongue. Tyring not to think aqbout it, she straightened her arm out so it hung in the circle and dropped the stone.

As soon as the weight left her hand, she scuffled back two steps, not wanting to be too close to whatever may happen. So when the thud of rock meeting ground was all she got, her shoulders drooped. But the snake held her spot for a few more ticks. Nothing happened. The slightest hint of a pout plumped Ker's lips. She hadn't really expected anything. What was a rock going to do if this was some sort of hoodoo magic that she didn't know about?

A sigh erupted from her pout, and Sezkero stepped over the candles to pick up her rock. Oh well. Suppose it was simply a circle of candles, what was she supposed to do about it? Maybe it was best to simply continue on to the stream and hunt as she intended.

oocFeel free to interrupt!

Common | Snake-Tongue | Tukant | Thoughts | PC/NPC Talking

[Ayatah]

The humidity of Riverfall was different to that of Taloba. The air felt lighter, the air fresher. Nevertheless, the sun's heat pressed on Ayatah's skin as she exited the city proper. The Myrian wanted to break away from the walls of civilisation and instead place herself within the woods that lay outside the city. As childish as it seemed, Aya hoped that being surrounded by trees in such a humid summer would somehow mimic the sensation of her jungle home. Her skin longed to feel that intense closeness again.

Her skin was soon clammy with sweat, but Aya pushed onwards, a relieved smile on her lips. If she closed her eyes, and imagined the thousands of bird calls and insect chirps of Taloba, it almost felt like she was home. Almost.

Eyes snapped open, muscles tensed. Alighted with newfound energy, the Myrian set off in a low prowl, stalking through the forest and shrugging the longbow off her left shoulder. The likelihood was that she wouldn't successfully hunt a single thing - but it was worth a try. Her eyes blinked excitedly, she hummed with a primal energy.

Ayatah stalked parallel to the path that ran through the forest. She did not know the woods well enough to wander without any guidance, but she knew that fewer animals would venture close to the trail. Every so often, she paused to investigate her surroundings and ensure she had not wandered too far. In one instance, she stooped down. Her fingers brushed at an empty eggshell, long dried out and long empty. Lips pursed, she tried to gage the size of the hen that had laid the egg. It was from a land bird, she guessed: had the egg fallen from a tree-level nest, it would not be so well intact.

A grouse, she concluded. Or at least some such bird.

Standing up, Ayatah continued on her slow journey. She paused every so often, straining her ears to pick up on a distant rustle of leaves or peering into the trees.

But soon the Half-Breed's enthusiasm waned to give way to some other emotion: curiosity. Whilst scanning the undergrowth, she had caught sight of something unexpected, something that made her frown and rush towards it. Light. Specifically candlelight.

She approached the area cautiously, but despite this, Ayatah did not realise until the last minute that someone else had discovered the large circle of candles before her. Thankfully, this individual was not a stranger, but the Sezkero, whom Aya had met the previous season. The other woman seemed just as puzzled by the candles as Ayatah, though. Which suggested that Sezkero had not been the one to lie the candles down.

"Sezkero." Aya called out, so as not to startle the Dhani as she approached, "do you know what all this is for?" She swept her hands lowly, gesturing to the candles that flickered at her feet. "Perhaps a romantic gesture gone awry?"

[Ssezzkero]

The Iyvess turned at the sound of her name, immediately releived to see a familiar face. "Ayatah." She breathed, switching the rock awkwardly between her hands. Sezkero glanced down at it, comparing her initial thought to Ayatah's. Her's was definitely more silly.

"Yeah, or perhapss we are interrupting one." She glanced back up, a small smile on her face, ready to laugh about the possibly mistake they had made by coming across it. But the goofy grin dissipated when Sezkero looked up to find that Ayatah wasn't alone. "Ayatah." She whispered, reaching her palm forward, as if asking the woman to take it. Golden brown eyes widened even further than normal as she watched the dark figure behind Ayatah step closer. The Iyvess didn't hesitate to step forward herself, pulling the taller woman away from the figure and into the circle.

She stumbled back a few steps, worried about what to do. Who was this person.

"Sezkero." The horrifyingly familiar voice called out. Except the voice was barely a hiss, the wind carrying her mother's tongue towards her ears. A lump gathered in the snake's throat and she looked at Ayatah to see if she had heard the name. Even if she had, would she understand it? "It's me, Sezkero." The hiss of snake-tongue was so much clearer now.

Sezkero's eyes snapped back to the figure that approached the light, revealing the woman's face before her. "Ma?" The single syllable escaped Sezkero lips, shocked to see the woman after so many years. The woman, she believed to be dead.

"Ayatah, pleasse tell me you can sssee her." She whispered, unwilling to tear her eyes away from the haunting face of her mother.

Common | Snake-Tongue | Tukant | Thoughts | PC/NPC Talking

[Ayatah]

Though it had been Ayatah's suggestion that the candles were part of a romantic gesture, she was quickly losing faith in the idea. It seemed too... ceremonial for something as simple as romance. Plus-- where was the loved up couple? The savage glanced around herself briefly, seeking into the shadows to try to spot the shape of a man or woman who might have laid these candles out.

"Maybe." She replied meekly, stepping closer to the candles, and more accurately the Dhani who stood amongst them. When Sezkero's smile dropped, Ayatah found herself rushing forward towards her -- an old habit from her time in the Myrian militia that had ingrained into her brain that there was safety in numbers. Sezkero in turn reached out, tugging Aya into the circle with her, only increasing the Myrian's the panic. She unsheathed her dagger, just in case.

Aya's dark eyes searched the area of woodland behind Sezkero, her body tensed and ready to throw herself into battle. When she heard a slippery word slink out from behind her, she was relieved. A potential foe stupid enough to break the element of surprise would be no great trouble to deal with. So Ayatah turned towards the voice, eyebrows raised in a cocky and self-assured manner.

It was a woman. One that Ayatah did not recognise, but who seemed to know Sezkero. The stranger's eyes were fixed on Aya's companion, and the Myrian glanced from familiar face to unfamiliar in a questioning way. "I see her." She said, voice filled with caution and confusion.

"What am I doing here? What is the meaning of this?" A demanding, haughty voice. Aya turned slowly at the voice, almost annoyed, by the presence this new arrival. "You." The woman said, her voice accusatory and cruel. She jabbed six index fingers towards Aaytah -- which was when the Myrian realised that this new woman was Eypharian.

"Do I know you?" The Myrian asked, unable to conceal her irritation at the woman's rudeness. Other than Rosela, Ayatah had socialised with no other Eypharian woman in Riverfall -- it must be a case of mistaken identity.

"Oh, no. You don't know me, but I know you." The Eypharian spat, jabbing her six bejewelled fingers once again towards Ayatah's chest. Her full lips curled up in disgust as she retracted her hands away from the Myrian, as if scared she would catch some horrible jungle disease. "I am Khatahsi re Naphu. Your father was my grandson."

[Ssezzkero]

"No, no, you... you are dead." She clung to the woman beside her, fright of the ghost to keep her from reaching towards her mother. The Iyvess before her was expressing her true form, and Sezkero watched as the familiar striped tail of her mother wrapped itself around the base of a tree. The woman lowered herself towards her daughter's level, a playful tone in her voice.

"Oh dear, you could at least speak the tongue I taught you." She tsked at her daughter in her home tongue, and Sezkero shook her head.

"You are dead." The small woman turned away from her mother, to loosen her shocked death-grip on Ayatah. Intent on ignoring her mother, She focused her attention on Ayatah, following her gaze towards the woman she was... snarling? Ayatah was almost snarling at the strange six-armed woman before her.

"I'm still here, dear. Ignoring me won't make me go away."

Sezkero glared at the ghost who lurked on the edge of the circle. "It worked for you. When you found the children you abandoned weren't like you."

"You know I didn't leave you and your brother because of that."

"Oh right, I mussst be misstaken. You left usss for a man."

"If you had come with me to meet your father, you would understand. Your father-"

"My father this, my father that." She scoffed, crossing her arms at the Iyvess before her. "I sstayed with my brother because, unlike you, I love my family."

"Sezkero." Her mother looked at her, calm. A smooth dark hand reached into the circle, palm open as if waiting for her own palm. Sezkero only looked at it for a tick before leveling her gaze back on her mother. "I know you blame me for leaving." Sezkero huffed out an angry mock chuckle. "But if you will listen to me, there is something important I must tell you."

The small Iyvess only flipped her own palm up to show her mother her scars. "You gave these to me." She stared into the deep brown eyes that her brother had inherited, but not her. "You know I never wanted it, but you forcced it on my anyway. If you can take thiss away, I will conssider forgiving you. But until you find a way to reversse thisss," She clenched her fist and dropped her scarred hand and arm back to her side. "Until you reverse what you did to me, I won't consider forgiving you."

She turned away from the water snake, focusing her attention on Ayatah now. She didn't know the woman well enough, but she knew she would rather give her her attention rather than her own mother.

"Ayatah." She brushed her fingers on the woman's shoulder to remind her she was there, but said no more. It was not her place to intrude.

Common | Snake-Tongue | Tukant | Thoughts | PC/NPC Talking

[Ayatah]

Ayatah was utterly, devastatingly torn. She could feel Sezkero's grip on her shoulder and arm, and she could hear the voice of the snake-woman speaking to her companion. Though Aya did not understand their language, she guessed from the tone and gestures that this mystical reunion was not a positive one. She so wanted to help her companion, to be of some comfort, but she apparently facing her own six-armed demon.

Softly, she touched Sezkero's arm and whispered, "who is that woman?" whilst nodding to the Dhani.

Khatashi, however, did not seem to realise her descant’s lack of focus. She was too busying shaking her head, pitying herself and her desert family. "A foolish man. A scholar, ha!" The Eypharian waved four arms in a dismissive manner towards Ayatah. The Myrian returned this gesture with a hard, cold look. This woman - this primed and made up desert woman - was claiming to be her own great-grandmother. It made absolutely no sense, and yet why would a stranger make such a cruel joke?

"I always knew he would amount to little, the stupid man. You know, our family are famous jewellers of the desert. But no -- it was never good enough for Rashak, not with his books and his studies." Khatashi rolled her dark eyes, bringing two hands to her face in order tosmooth out the wrinkles that had formed on her previously furrowed brow and pursed lips. As if deciding that this historic situation was no longer worth sacrificing her impressively smooth complexion over, the old Eypharian woman coughed mildly and joined her six hands into three pairs. Her voice was as taut as stretched out silk: "It was a grave disappointment for my family when we learnt of your parents' affair. And with a Myrian as well!" She gave a silly little laugh, as if Myrian was some ridiculous made up word that would never reach her, up there on her ghostly pedestal.

But Ayatah had stopped listening. Her attention and focus had been completely removed from Khatashi the moment the old woman had spilled out that name.

Rashak.

It was the name of her father. It was a name that Ayatah had never known, never admitted to wanting to know. She whispered it quietly, repeating the name over and over again in her mind and on her tongue.

Rashak, Rashak. Rashak re Naphu.

She couldn't even breathe without whispering the name.

"Are you listening to me?" Khatashi snapped, clicking four fingers and clapping two together. When Aya looked back at her, blinkingly, she huffed and declared, "you are just like him, dipping out of conversations to get lost in that silly little head of his. Tell me, do you dream of teaching the world! as well, like he did?" Her lips creased in a cruel, mocking smile.

[Ayatah]

The ghostly Eypharian woman before her watched Ayatah with growing impatience. After quietly muttering, "you are like him," she began to click her fingers of all six of her hands. The resulting noise caught Aya's attention and the Myrian looked up to the old woman, blinking.

"I don't understand why you're here."

Khatashi scoffed. "Neither do I, and yet here I am. So the least you could do is listen to me. Or is that too much for you barbarians?"

Something inside Ayatah twitched, a deep-rooted protectiveness over her jungle brethren. She met her grandmother's gaze with one of her eyes own, leering and repulsive. In the few chimes that she had spoken to her paternal grandmother, Aya had already learnt the most effective way to insult the old woman. "Say what you want about my bloodline, because now it's yours as well. You are as barbarian as I am, you have family in Taloba. You are Myrian by association."

It was of course a lie: her people would never openly accept individuals such as Khatashi, but Aya's venomous words had the desired effect. The Eypharian made a strange, warbling sound as if she were choking. A pair of hands went to her chest, another touched her cheeks in horror. But the third pair of hands reached out, as if controlled by another part of Khatashi's mind that now wanted to connect with Ayatah.

"Oh, you are like her. You are so much like her. You have her... passion, her spirit. He never possessed such thirst for life until he met your mother. And then he was like that, too. In a way, I was finally proud of him; he'd finally found his balls." Khatashi shook her head, slow and mournful. "But when I realised that it was a Myrian he loved... I couldn't. Nobody could. And then I learnt of the baby..."

"Shut up."

Ayatah found her stomach boiling with anger. This old, dead Eypharian woman was lying. She was suggesting that Ayatah's mother and her father were once in love, when they hadn't been. The event that had lead to her conception was something of a prime desire, with no real emotion or care between the man and woman who had lain together. Paira of the Scattered Bones would always declare that she simply had womanly needs, and the Eypharian was simply around at the right time. And yes, they had been in each other's company for two seasons or so, but he language barrier and their natural dislike of each other did not even waver for friendship, let alone romance.

"You're lying."

Khatashi's subsequent silence was more distressing, more telling, than Ayatah cared for. It made her nervous, the way that the Eypharian woman's previous anger and dislike seemed to have melted away into something else, something close to... pity.

"I'm not lying, Ayatah. Didn't your mother ever tell you? Did she not teach you our language?" Her voice was soft, delicate. The differences between them had been set aside and now there were only Grandmother and Granddaughter, sharing stories.

[Ayatah]

"Your mother and father were deeply, truly, in love. Even I could see it, as much I hated it. Your mother lit up your father's life, and in turn he grounded her. Do you know how they met?"

Ayatah gave a child-like, tiny shake of her head.

"He was her teacher of the Common tongue. They met here, in Riverfall, your mother having only just stepped off the boat before diving into lessons. Of course she could speak come common, but her grammar was no good and nobody could really understand her accent.

So she hired your father to be her tutor. I believe that they made it through the first two or so lessons before things turned..." Khatashi swallowed and continued with her story with some difficulty. "...romantic. But they were addicted to each other. Your father had to leave for an expedition into the desert, and instead of following through with her plans of her own, Paira went with him. All this while, bare in mind, your father was writing to us to tell us of the beautiful woman he had met, and how she came from a good family and how ironic it was that they had met in Riverfall..

Of course we were delighted, assuming she was Eypharian like he. But when your father bought your mother to us, we were disgusted. The meeting quickly turned.... poisonous with your father damning us all in favour of this... this barbarian woman. "

Even now, after death had taken her from her family, Khatashi felt the shame and anger over her grandson's choice. It had broken the hearts of his parents, especially his father, Khatashi's own son. "I don't know where they went after that, probably back to Riverfall. But after a season or so, we received another letter from your father." A shuddering, great regretful sigh heaved out of the old woman's parched lips. "I still remember what it said: I hope you will put aside your prejudices and hate for the good of the baby, the continuation of our lineage. He hadn't signed it, but of course I knew it was from your father. We wrote back, demanding that he return home. In fact, we even sent one of his cousins to go and search for him, to draw him back home.

But it was no good. They were deliriously happy, your parents. I don't know if they ever had a ceremony, but I know they considered themselves to be married.

When your father's cousin wrote, he told us of their happiness and how your mother was preparing to return to the jungle to tell her own family of what had happened. She planned to come back to Riverfall just before giving birth, so Rhasak could be there to welcome his foul-blooded baby into the world."

All the while, Ayatah remained perfectly silent, her eyes baring into her grandmother's wrinkled face. Each word Khatashi said defied what Paira had always told her -- but the half-Myrian found herself losing confidence not in her Eypharian Grandmother, but in her mother.

"That didn't happen." She whispered, eyes closed and mind flittering back to the false tale she had been bought up with. "When my mother returned to Taloba, she stayed there. She never left the jungle again."

"I know. It ruined your father. He assumed she was dead, killed in that festering jungle that you called home. The guilt destroyed him. Though he was utterly useless in any form of combat, he wished he had gone with your mother to protect her against whatever must have killed her and his baby. He started drinking heavily.

It was around that time, within that first year after your mother left, that I received the letter from your... what is she, the head of your house?"

[Ayatah]

It took Ayatah a tick too long to realise that the Eypharian was asking her a question. "Quinneth?" It was the name of the matriarch of the Scattered Bones Clan and Ayatah's beloved great-grandmother.

Khatashi nodded, her expression showing her recognition at the name. "Yes, that was it. Quinneth. My husband and I received a letter from her, telling us of the baby girl your mother had given birth to. Ayatah, named partly after your mothers mother--" Aya nodded. This fact was not lost on her, but what Khatashi said next truly surprised her, "and partially named after me, too. Like that was some great reward for the mess my Grandson had put our family into.

But the main reason for Quinneth's letter was that she wanted my family to know that Paira would not be returning to Riverfall. She was healthy, and well, but she feared the baby would not survive the journey back to Riverfall. Instead, she was offering that your father join her in Taloba, or perhaps that she would bring the baby with her in a year or so."

Ayatah had been told that she had been born earlier than expected, and that for those few few terrifying days the entire Scattered Bones clan had feared that she would die. She was too little, too pale, too thin. But what they regarded as weakness was simply her mixed heritage. She had never been as strong as her pure-blooded Myrian family. "What did my father do?"

Khatashi rolled her eyes and scoffed again, waving a dismissive hand at the memory of her most disappointing grandson. "Oh, we never told him. His cousin returned home, and life continued. We received no more letters from your father, or Quinneth, or anyone. Eventually my family managed to bury that abominable part of our family history, and we simply moved on."

She should have been angry. She should have shouted at this wretched woman and called her all the names Ayatah could think of: Old cow, bitch, fuck-head, tit-warbler. But instead the half-Eypharian remained pensively silent. Somehow, very deep down in the pit of the darkest corner of her mind, she had always doubted Paira's story. It was too simple and neat. Real life, or at least Ayatah's experience of it, had never been so modest. She knew how love could make someone do ridiculous things, like leave the jungle. But equally, the pain of losing that love could break someone into shattered pieces of themselves. Khatashi and her family had been selfish and conceited, turning their back on their own family member for falling for the wrong woman. And yet Aya struggled to say they had done the wrong thing. Ultimately, their self-centredness had been one of the many factors that had resulted in her life, her very existence, up until this moment. And could she blame them for this?

No.

"Is my father still alive? You must know."

Khatashi watched her with a critical eye. Eventually, the woman nodded. "He is. Barely. He's ruined his life, though. I believe he lives off money from selling off the titbits of family gold he bought with him to Riverfall all that time ago."

Ayatah sighed. For once, she had no more questions. She had learnt too much too quickly. Breathing was a challenge, let alone processing the wealth of information Khatashi had just shared with her. All she could do was nod sagely at the story. "I... appreciate you telling me this." She said gently, her eyes half-closed. "And I'm sorry for the trouble I caused."

"Don't be." Was that a hint of affection in the woman's voice? "It was never your fault. You were merely born into this life, and I can see that you've done what you can with it." Khatashi's middle hands met together, writhing around until her left arm extended to Ayatah. Resting on the palm of her hand was a gold signet ring, the face of it flattened and engraved with several tiny words. She explained in a matter-of-fact voice: "Our family words: 'From the sands come the jewels, and from us come the riches'. Take it. It's yours now."

[Konrad Venger]

Nice job! Your work has pleased The Sloth! Sezkero XP: Observation - 2 Socialization - 1 Rhetoric - 1 Lore: Rhetoric: Not To Be Swayed So Easily Ayatah XP: Observation - 3 Hunting - 1 Interrogation - 2 Socialization - 2 Lore: Hunting: Egg Shells As Evidence Sezkero: A Friend(ly) Dhani Khatahsi re Naphu: Great-Grandmother Rashak: Father I Never Knew Khatahsi re Naphu: Bitter Old Woman Khatahsi re Naphu: Family Words Rashak: Still Alive! Socialization: Not Always Pleasant Click Me! : Wow! Talking about a Wham Episode! Rashak is alive?! Paira lied?! God Gawds Almighty! I loved how you wove this story together, both of you, but especially Aya. Even in a short thread like this, you made that cranky old biddy fully-formed, capable of affection, remorse, regret, even if she did have a Redwood stuck up her arse. I'm hoping we see more of this in later threads. Ah, the possibilities... Oh, and please make sure you go back and edit your post in the Request Thread to reflect the fact this one is now done and dusted. PM me with any questions and later 'tater!