Shifting of a Season

[Tanell]

1st day of Summer, 515 AV
Approaching the second bell of the morning

Tanell was glad for her cloak in the chill of darkness, she had come out to greet the new day and the new season with it, expecting a warmer night than she had found. Although it was only the first day of the season, hope had budded in her chest that the air would suddenly warm with the changing of the watchtower's light. Unreasonable hope, and one she had not put much expectation into, but it was there and dashed all the same.

The city was softly illuminated, a gentle, glowing light that seemed to radiate from the ground and sky alike. The presence of the stars, the skyglass, and the plants of the city all coming together to light a gentle glow. It was brighter in some places, especially in spaces of closer packed buildings, and brightest on the Zintia peak, where party goers still roamed and lights were still lit.

Despite her time here, having adapted to the city and culture herself, it still struck her odd at times that she was in a city of such oddity.

She laughed then, breaking from her thoughts out into the moment, here she was questioning the odd hours and uncommon practices, all the while she had awoken at an hour to be scoffed at in Mura. Her elders would surely have disliked a place such as this, where people had no concern for the sleep habits of visitors, and little worry about how their actions affected the people around them. For all that it occasionally struck Tanell odd, she had adopted the was of the people, and her concept of home had shifted.

If Eleret could see her now, she wondered if her closest sister would recognize her. Would she look at her with disapproval and scorn? Tanell certainly did not hold any longer to the societal rules of Mura. While her concern for the feelings of others had not departed her, she was far from the ideal Konti woman. Eleret would understand, though, the need to follow the behaviors of the city, surely that was true. Wasn't it?

It would be worse to abandon the people of her city and stick to her old ways instead. Business and pleasure, day and night, it was all a part of the city, and she lived it the same as the others.

She had to.

But it was not her intent tonight, to party with the city, instead she sought the quiet peace of the outermost peak, Sharai. Despite her speaking to the contrary, Tanell kept many parts of her family home with her, including her religion and her appreciation for peace.

A mixture of both brought her out this morning, seeking the quiet nature had to offer. She settled herself on a broken rock that was not quite flat, but made an accommodating seat all the same. She folded her legs beneath her and turned her gaze to the sky.

[Tanell]

She breathed deeply of the new morning air, seeking the familiar smells of the city. Plants of spring still lingered, though many no longer boasted their colorful blooms. Dula trees had long since lost their blooms, the tiny fruits, that had been pointed out to her as the tea time accompaniment she so enjoyed, had no scent of their own. The fruits were not ripe or warmed by the summer sun yet. The Keokina plants were still fully abloom, the sweet scent of the plant floated gently through the night. And they would continue on through the coming summer, fleeing only the cold touches of winter.

Soon to join the cacophony of fragrances would be the summer plants, the lovely mountain roses, wide and decorative, the shooting star primroses would follow, blooming early this season the delicate backward facing petals a beautiful addition to many Lhavitian homes.

But it was too cold now in the predawn hours, and too early in the season for those scents to mingle, and soon the last hints of the smells of spring would be burned away by Syna's might in her peak season. Perhaps, though, if anyone took care to note, there would be a day arriving soon where one might catch just the right moment, the blending of aromas from spring and summer, gently green and warm filled with soft spring flowers and jubilant summer blooms. Tanell could only hope she would be one of the scant few lucky enough to catch the fleeting moment.

Cold had begun to seep into her legs, a reminder of the cool rock she perched upon, and the purpose of her foray. It was a day to honor, forge anew her connections to the gods. She had a practice of clearing her mind, learned from her explorations into the chavena and her dealings with divining the wisdom of tarot. She took to that now, attempting to push away thoughts of flowers, and cold, and instead focus on only the moment she was in.

It was breathing, the focus of her mind. A breath in drawing energy from each place where she touched the ground. The expanding of her chest and lungs drawing the energy more fully into her body until it was so full she must pass the energy outwards towards the sky and heavens, returning it to the Ukalas from where she drew it. Exhalation took the pursuit in reverse, pulling from the same reserve in opposition to the draw of her inhale, filling her through the top of her head downwards and outwards back into the connections she made with her connection to the ground.

Whether she truly drew energy in the exercise, or merely imagined the connection to the divine was not of consequence to the woman, only the practice, the ideal mattered. So she forged onward, from slow deep inhale to slowly collapsing exhale, her body remained still, her posture straight and regal as ever.

[Tanell]

It was not long before distractions demanded her attention. An itch on her leg, the tickle of her hair on her face, she pushed them both away, having to begin again with the entire calming process.

Breath in, expanding, collecting. Out, collapsing, returning. In, opening, beginnings. Out, closing, endings. There was significance in every breath, the expanding and collapsing of her lungs.

A warm breeze blew across her back, sending her hair into a flurry of motion. The billow of her cape catching the wind with the snap of fabric. Tanell found herself once more distracted from her meditations. She was calm enough, though, aware of each breath, each strand of hair that twirled around her face, the warm wind pressing back the chill of night.

She would fit her plans into this moment, there was no point in waiting any longer.

"Avalis, the mother, Laviku, the father, I owe you both a great thanks, and I give it to you with love and respect. The season begins with warmth and joy, I hope it greets you both the same. Our family is large, Konti all across the land, I hope that you find them well, as I find myself. I have a request, for both of you touch my life with more frequency than most, Eleret has yet to answer my letters, and I only grow more concerned with each one I send. Mother your sight might show you her path, and I beg that you watch and keep her safe. Father, your domain is large, holding the utmost significance to us all. If you come across my sister in your path, please lend her your strength, I worry that she may truly need it. May you share good fortune with us all, mother, father, and your many children." Her words fell to silence, carried away on the mountain winds. She could only hope they heard, they listened, and that they would look upon her family with the same forces of good and joy that had brought her safely to Lhavit, and allowed her to find a home quickly, taking to the city with grace. Surely they shared such fortune with all of their children.

Her gods were many, but always first she honored the god and goddess who brought life to the Konti women. She sat again in silence, watching the clouds shift in the sky, opening and closing in turn, giving glimpses of the moon and stars. Around her the nocturnal life moved, seeking the last of their meals before heading home, the day was approaching and they would not be caught in its trap.

"Caiyha, the first witch, I sit in a world of your designs. All around me your touch is clear. I hope the summer greets you with whimsy, dancing green flora, and abundant life growing strong from the spring. The cycle of the seasons does not deter us here, although it is with consideration of our survival that we break from their hold. We nurture the plant life around us, some in shelter, some to bear the force of the seasons. We depend on your creations for our survival, and so I take this time to thank you, to sing your praise, and to ask your continued favor as we move into this new season." The goddess of flora and fauna was one she could hardly believe was overlooked by people in their prayers. When her touch was everywhere, allowing for everything else to live only by her continued grace. To forget her, to ignore her, it was to ask her to remove her presence from the world. Semele was the mother Mizahar, but she was her own entity, rock and gems, not enough to sustain the people that lived on her.

[Tanell]

"Semele, sturdy, unchanging. You are the shape of the world, beautiful and strong. Lend me your strength, your power, so that I may be solid as the stones you create, able to face each challenge that comes my way. Little changes will not destroy me, instead I will endure, as you have through time. Protect my family, dear mother, grace us with your shelter, in the coming summer. No heat, nor cold deters you, protecting all who ask. Mother Mizahar."

Honoring each of her gods in turn, she continued, greeting the season with a reminder of each of the many hands that guided her life.

"Leth, the ever-changing face of the moon, light and beauty in the night, the season finds you fading, sneaking away to spend your time with Syna, but tonight your light still shows, peaking through the clouds. I hope to gain from spending time in your presence, adaptability so that I may change as the circumstances demand. I learn from the story of your love, and yet, I have not changed, seeking quiet and solitude over the presence of others. Often seeking family over all else. If I could change as often as you, adapt, and love as you, would I be a better person? It worked for you, so I hope you will teach me." Her words to Leth were always strange, she began with a greeting, intent on giving praise and thanks. Yet each time she found the words that left her mouth were not the ones intended, often far more personal, and sometimes revealing things to herself that she had shied away from thinking.

She had to shake the words away, she would consider what they meant later. She had other gods to greet before she began her day.

"Syna, beautiful, radiant, goddess of the sun. Today you come into your peak season, your joy spreading to all the world. I hope you will share with me your warmth and beauty, your far reaching sight. I seek word from my family, oft they bathe in your radiance, have you seen them? Can they see you? Please share your light with them, so they may find their way home." Her feelings for Syna were seperate from the all the others. Syna was warm, energetic, beautiful, and to Tanell, constantly appreciated. In her mind, the thanks given to the goddess was done as well by spending a day in her light, admiring her through the glass sheet of the water's surface,

"Zintila, both near and dear, the summer season shifts your constellations and with them your beauty. The glimpses we gain of your shimmering cloak of stars grow ever shorter as the days grow long. Even so, your gaze falls kindly on this city, one we fancy yours. The shining splendor a reminder of the beauty of the stars even through the longest days and shortest nights. I know you are a protector, so my prayer to you is clear, continue to hold our city close, and we'll rejoice whenever you are near." The patron goddess was still a new one to Tanell, but the story of her fall, acting as the savior of Semele, falling from her power. It had touched Tanell, and so it was with great respect that she had added the goddess to her prayers.

"Makutsi, you are a daughter of Laviku, same as I, the honor of being sister to a goddess in any sense is a blessing in its own. I run across you often in my life, from springs to streams, to she falling of rain. You nourish the life all around me, and I am forever grateful."

[Tanell]

She sat once more tacit. Echoes of her own words drifting on the wind, carried out over the other peaks, distorted, stretched. She wondered if anyone would recognize the sound as words once they reached their ears.

Some time had passed before she began the process of grounding herself, no different than her previous attempt, a calming of her mind, emptying of thoughts. Breathing deeply, in and out.

She found the process came easier this time, clearing her head, focusing only on the pull of air, drawing energy up through the Semele granted stone, out into Zintila's starry night. Leth above her was but the faintest glow of light, silvery white edged by honeyed yellow. The sky tonight belonged to the stars, their beauty the driving force of the light that filtered through the breaks in the clouds.

That wasn't to say they were the only light. All around her the plants luminescence shone, the gentle glow in the light of the city attributed to a mineral, Calias, that the plants absorbed, or at least that was what she had been told when she asked. The fauna of the city, when she saw them in the night, seemed to share the same soft glow, perhaps as simply begotten from eating the glowing plants.

She shifted on her rock, distracted by the growing chill seeping into her skin from the stone, and the fading comfort as her thoughts turned back to more material matters.

Perhaps she would take a short walk, work the kinks out of her legs, before returning home. Plan in mind, she stood, stretching from head to toe, arms reached far over her head, toes curling the material of her sandals into the dew soft dirt.

Her feet led the process, taking her off in a tangent from her spot of prayer. She didn't have a true goal, instead just wandering, enjoying the view provided by the city. Off to her left, the glow of the Zintia peak was bright, a shining beacon of joy calling to the others of the city. Come join us, It said, The party has only just begun! The dawn rest was bells away and, although the shifting of the stars above her head did tell her of passing time, she could not fathom how much time.

It didn't really matter, she was attuned to the habits of the city, she would grow tired when the fifth bell approached, and wake sometime near the sixth. It was always the dawning of the day, the lightening of the sky that woke her, not quite the fiery brilliance of Syna rising over the horizon, but the signaling of her approach. It called to her, wakening her before the sunrise so that she might watch it happen.

There was no hinting of that now, no glimmer nor tint to herald the approach of the sun. Instead the horizon was claimed by Zintila, midnight blue shimmered with spots of light, golden, white, a gossamer curtain spanning endlessly across the sky. Her visage didn't end there, in this city there was no escape from the outpouring of light that the goddess created, for every blade of grass, every night blooming flower heady with the essence of nectar, was a pinprick of light against the dark. Even the buildings, glass and stone molded into the most appealing forms imaginable scintillated as brightly as the very stars.

This was why she walked, why she prayed, the magnificence of the world was overwhelming. To deny the existence of gods while surrounded by perpetuating beauty was unfathomable. So, she believed. There were many gods, goddesses, all of them powers in their own right, but only some called to her, knew the name of names that would bring her to them, and those were the ones that she prayed to. Just speak to them, Tanell, they will listen. The words, often repeated to her in youth, the answer to her question, perhaps one of the most important questions she had ever asked.

The path beneath her feet changed, became rough and loose, sheering downwards at a greater angle, one that required her attention to be on her feet. Her eyes took to the ground, the flowers and grasses giving way to moss and lichen, soft cushions beneath her feet. The thickness of the moss growing on such rocky terrain surprised her, and she tried to note where she found it so that she could come back and examine it in the daylight.

A faint glow ahead caught her attention, and she looked up into the fading petals of a Kariino tree. The thin, skeletal branches still had petals in some places, were still beautiful, but they began to fade as spring warmed towards summer, soon they would be bare but for the seedpods. Ahead, a gathering of blue flowers, white in the center, and looking bright and healthy, like they might weather the coming season.

She crouched beside the outcropping of flowers, vague recollections of seeing similar flowers in the windows of homes in the city. She had nothing to dig up the plant with, but if she took it home to her own garden, she could have them in her home as readily as they grew.

She stood again, searching for a tool, a sharp rock, a sturdy stick. She found a roughly flat rock loose in the rubble from a sheer drop of the mountain terrain. The edge would cut well enough through the dirt.

She returned, hefting the rock with her. It was not too large, but easily twice the size of her hand. The rough rounded section served an easy grip, allowing her to use the thinner edge to pry at the dirt. She was crouched once more beside the flowers, scooping small piles of dirt out from around the base of the cluster of plants she wanted.

[Tanell]

Digging was really a loose term for what she was doing. Stabbing at the dirt and scraping it away from the plant. She was really just pulling the dirt in different directions, attempting to keep the roots and stems of the blue flower whole. If she damaged it too much in trying to move it to her garden at home it would just wilt and die instead of flourishing.

The repetitive motion of forcing the rock into the earth and combing it backwards towards her feet soon caused her arms to tire. Some combination of the weight of the rock and the resistance of the dirt. She had to trade hands, the rough stone grip less sure in her right hand. She persevered, removing the dirt one scoop at a time until she had a mote around the cluster of flowers.

Putting her improvised shovel aside, she stuck her hands into the dirt ball that was still left around the plant, hoping to find the roots and loosen their hold on the surroundings. She found the tangled mass quickly enough, but removing the plant was more difficult. She wiggled the entire clump, learning that she hadn't dug deep enough to remove all the roots in once piece. She picked the rock up, new energy fueling the muscles of her arms and back as she used both hands to carve away more dirt from the base.

When her legs began to protest the crouched position, she knelt, disregarding the dirt on her gray pants, it would wash out. She hoped.

She reached for the plant again finding she had done much more this time for freeing it from the earthy prison. She wiggled her fingers back into the roots, clumps of damp earth falling to join once more in the hole she had created. Hands grasping the plant base once more, she wiggled and twisted it loose of the dirt, finding that what she had thought was a single plant with many blooms was actually two plants with a few flowers each.

She kept the dirt that clung to the roots, not bothering to brush it loose. Maybe it would keep the plant safe on the trip.

Treating the plant as though it might break, she placed it lightly beside her, taking the time to shove all the dirt back into the hole the plant left behind. She wouldn't want someone to come hiking along the same way and trip in the hole.

Once the ground was even, or as close as it could get sans plant. She stood, brushing dirt from the front of her pants, and lifting her new acquisition to her side, pleased with her work.

She began walking again, time still to enjoy the fringes of the wilds, the uneven path that quickened her breath and brought beads of perspiration to her head despite the cool night air.

She slipped on a particularly damp rock, her boot tread not enough to save the reaching step upwards, and she fell, scraping her palm when she caught herself. She sighed, wishing for a moment she had Syna's light to show her the more treacherous routes in her path. A quick upward glance changed her mind, the shimmering stars peeking between the clouds reminding her that she quite enjoyed the lifestyle of the city she now called home, even if it meant hiking in the dark.