The statues moved with unnatural grace. While their motions were heavy and loud, stone as they were, they also moved with finesse and purpose. Across from Kelski, stone arms bore a dagger each, the silver glinting in what dim light was to be had. The statue made no move to attack, however, though it held its weapons in an offensive position, pointed at the Kelvic.
On the other side of the room, Kynier sprinted for his weapon. The statue followed, stone hair rippling as if being blown by a breeze. Impassive, it watched the man snatch his shortsword off the ground, and then thrust its own forward. The movement was abrupt, the attack almost clumsy; it was as if the statue was simply toying with Kynier, as if it was capable of much more, and yet deciding not to use its skills.
The statue's stone eyes shifted, its face turning down to look at its arm where sparks flew from stone as Kynier's shortsword hacked at its limb. It stopped moving, allowing Kynier to back up further.
Thick and heavy silence reigned then for a long moment, as the statues each surveyed the flesh and blood person they stood before. The only sound in the dimly lit room was Kynier's breathing, harsh enough from his impromtu and short-lived battle that it drowned out Kelski's.
The statue in front of Kelski still had a faint smile on its face, blank stone eyes twinkling. Slowly, very slowly, the one standing across from Kynier also began to smile faintly. From no known source, laughter began to echo in the room.
It was soft, barely audible, more of a chuckle than a genuine laugh. But it was there, and it grew slightly in volume until there was no mistaking it. It wasn't cruel or mocking laughter; quite the opposite, it sounded almost kind.
Both statues shimmered, turning their gazes to where they had originally stood as one. The shadows in the room spun around like a whirlwind, and while silent to Kynier, to Kelski they chattered with excitement and delight as they swarmed towards the small dais in the center of the room where the statue had stood.
Suddenly and abruptly, the shadows fell silent, and all slid to the floor. While they lay still, they rippled with excitement they were unable to contain like puddles of oil, and even Kynier may have caught broken whispers of an unknown language if he listened closely enough.
But the shadows were not of importance. Where the statue had once stood instead stood the very Goddess it had been a replica of, and no matter how masterfully carved, the black stone could not do her justice.
Akajia stood in the center of the room; despite her lithe form, she stood with a strength that commanded the room. Shrouded in shadows and with Zintila's stars crowning her head, she was truly a sight to behold, bright and gleaming eyes peering out from her enshrouded face to rest first on Kynier; her gaze was impassive, almost faintly quizzical. Her eyes then shifted to Kelski, and something close to perhaps affection crossed her features faintly before becoming, once again, impassive.
Stepping off the small dais, the shadows swirled around her feet, clinging to her robes and crawling up her. The Mistress of the Night paid them no mind as she approached Kelski with slow, measured steps. "Little eagle," Akajia spoke, her voice soft and velvety, caressing Kelski's skin like the shadows that swarmed her.
"I have not forgotten you. For so long you have suffered, have you not?" Akajia's voice was gentle, her features soft. "But look at you now. You are strong, stronger than perhaps you even know. Do not lament what you could not do for yourself; so often do things fall outside of what we are able to control. Take what you are given and make it yours. Use it, embrace it. You are not weak for allowing circumstances to force you places you did not wish to be."
She paused, letting her words sink in, and spoke once more to Kelski even as she began to circle the room. There words, however, were for the Kelvic's ears alone; shadows draped around the two women, blocking sight and sound from Kynier. "Do not be afraid to follow your heart and its curiosity, little eagle. Your fear may allow the greatest potentials to slip from your grasp. You must do what you think is right."
Illuminated eyes rested knowingly on the Kelvic's face, and then the shadows dispersed, and Akajia stood in front of Kynier. "Do not think I have not heard your prayers." She spoke to Kynier now, her voice still gentle, but there was something more of an edge to it. "I hear all those who pray to me. Many do. Why should praying make you worthy, mage?" The question was not harsh, but lightly reprimanding. With slow, measured steps, Akajia circled Kynier.
Finally, she stopped, once again in front of him, and when she spoke again the edge had left her voice, leaving it only soft. "But I can feel your hunger for knowledge. Prayer is not the only thing you have, and yet perhaps you do not even realize it. Why, even here, mere moments ago, your search for knowledge loosened the lips of one of my devoted."
Akajia did not seem overly perturbed by this fact; if anything, amusement sparkled in her eyes for the briefest of moments. She knew the importance of keeping secrets; but also she knew the thrill, the intimacy, often the need, to share the occasional secret with one who was trusted and valued, when the moment was right.
"Your faith is not as strong as it could be, Kynier. You know this. But faith in me is not all I demand of my followers. Secrets and knowledge and the quest for them; it is never ending, and it is there where your faith must not waver." Akajia regarded him thoughtfully for a long moment before sweeping past him, moving to stand in front of both Kelski and Kynier.
She beckoned them closer, each with one hand, knowing they would have questions or words of their own to say to her. In front of her, the shadows parted way, leaving space for the Kelvic and the man to approach the Goddess.
On the other side of the room, Kynier sprinted for his weapon. The statue followed, stone hair rippling as if being blown by a breeze. Impassive, it watched the man snatch his shortsword off the ground, and then thrust its own forward. The movement was abrupt, the attack almost clumsy; it was as if the statue was simply toying with Kynier, as if it was capable of much more, and yet deciding not to use its skills.
The statue's stone eyes shifted, its face turning down to look at its arm where sparks flew from stone as Kynier's shortsword hacked at its limb. It stopped moving, allowing Kynier to back up further.
Thick and heavy silence reigned then for a long moment, as the statues each surveyed the flesh and blood person they stood before. The only sound in the dimly lit room was Kynier's breathing, harsh enough from his impromtu and short-lived battle that it drowned out Kelski's.
The statue in front of Kelski still had a faint smile on its face, blank stone eyes twinkling. Slowly, very slowly, the one standing across from Kynier also began to smile faintly. From no known source, laughter began to echo in the room.
It was soft, barely audible, more of a chuckle than a genuine laugh. But it was there, and it grew slightly in volume until there was no mistaking it. It wasn't cruel or mocking laughter; quite the opposite, it sounded almost kind.
Both statues shimmered, turning their gazes to where they had originally stood as one. The shadows in the room spun around like a whirlwind, and while silent to Kynier, to Kelski they chattered with excitement and delight as they swarmed towards the small dais in the center of the room where the statue had stood.
Suddenly and abruptly, the shadows fell silent, and all slid to the floor. While they lay still, they rippled with excitement they were unable to contain like puddles of oil, and even Kynier may have caught broken whispers of an unknown language if he listened closely enough.
But the shadows were not of importance. Where the statue had once stood instead stood the very Goddess it had been a replica of, and no matter how masterfully carved, the black stone could not do her justice.
Akajia stood in the center of the room; despite her lithe form, she stood with a strength that commanded the room. Shrouded in shadows and with Zintila's stars crowning her head, she was truly a sight to behold, bright and gleaming eyes peering out from her enshrouded face to rest first on Kynier; her gaze was impassive, almost faintly quizzical. Her eyes then shifted to Kelski, and something close to perhaps affection crossed her features faintly before becoming, once again, impassive.
Stepping off the small dais, the shadows swirled around her feet, clinging to her robes and crawling up her. The Mistress of the Night paid them no mind as she approached Kelski with slow, measured steps. "Little eagle," Akajia spoke, her voice soft and velvety, caressing Kelski's skin like the shadows that swarmed her.
"I have not forgotten you. For so long you have suffered, have you not?" Akajia's voice was gentle, her features soft. "But look at you now. You are strong, stronger than perhaps you even know. Do not lament what you could not do for yourself; so often do things fall outside of what we are able to control. Take what you are given and make it yours. Use it, embrace it. You are not weak for allowing circumstances to force you places you did not wish to be."
She paused, letting her words sink in, and spoke once more to Kelski even as she began to circle the room. There words, however, were for the Kelvic's ears alone; shadows draped around the two women, blocking sight and sound from Kynier. "Do not be afraid to follow your heart and its curiosity, little eagle. Your fear may allow the greatest potentials to slip from your grasp. You must do what you think is right."
Illuminated eyes rested knowingly on the Kelvic's face, and then the shadows dispersed, and Akajia stood in front of Kynier. "Do not think I have not heard your prayers." She spoke to Kynier now, her voice still gentle, but there was something more of an edge to it. "I hear all those who pray to me. Many do. Why should praying make you worthy, mage?" The question was not harsh, but lightly reprimanding. With slow, measured steps, Akajia circled Kynier.
Finally, she stopped, once again in front of him, and when she spoke again the edge had left her voice, leaving it only soft. "But I can feel your hunger for knowledge. Prayer is not the only thing you have, and yet perhaps you do not even realize it. Why, even here, mere moments ago, your search for knowledge loosened the lips of one of my devoted."
Akajia did not seem overly perturbed by this fact; if anything, amusement sparkled in her eyes for the briefest of moments. She knew the importance of keeping secrets; but also she knew the thrill, the intimacy, often the need, to share the occasional secret with one who was trusted and valued, when the moment was right.
"Your faith is not as strong as it could be, Kynier. You know this. But faith in me is not all I demand of my followers. Secrets and knowledge and the quest for them; it is never ending, and it is there where your faith must not waver." Akajia regarded him thoughtfully for a long moment before sweeping past him, moving to stand in front of both Kelski and Kynier.
She beckoned them closer, each with one hand, knowing they would have questions or words of their own to say to her. In front of her, the shadows parted way, leaving space for the Kelvic and the man to approach the Goddess.