Tavern by the Creek (The Curses) Part III

[TAOWolf]

All along the ley lines, strange things start happening.......

~watch dogs suddenly attack their owners~
~magic spells reverse onto their casters~
~boiling water explodes in the hearth~
~tree branches seem to reach out to grab you~

The old man stands on his porch, watching the tree lines in the mountain, observing the darkness starting to grow in the distance...

"Be swift my beautiful hawks, be swift....
there is trouble brewing, the ancient walkers are awakening, and the ten companions (the ones still alive) must be awoken to the call"

[TAOWolf]

She frowns as he slowly rises, seeing the exhaustion in his body as he moves. She doesn't resist as he grasps her hand, making her look at the deep cuts in her palms. As he touches her cheek turning her face, her mind races with his next words, and her eyes shine a brillant purple/amber watching him.

As he quickly moves away and begins speaking, she can feel the anger stir in his body and the air surrounding him, and she stands still, listening with growing trepidation.

"I will not lose the second half of my heart, " he says, and she stares wide-eyed at him as he comes towards her. As he wraps his arms around her, he sounds calmer as he whispers the name he has given her, "Sof'ya, Sof'ya ush'a ha'shama'im" in her hair.

She watches in amazement as his breath stirs the flame and wind dancing upon the runes she drew. She feels his smile, and watches in wonder as the flame dances away from the runes around the clearing.... ~Is it possible? Only a....~ She doesn't finish the thought, as a new realization hits her, and she almost misses what he says next.

She kisses his burnt fingers as he places them on her lips, asking her to speak, and her eyes glow softly at him. She gestures for him to sit down, and sets next to him, picking up Grounder and touching his nose with a finger.

"Behave, little one, shoo..." She sets him on the ground, sending him to Star. She makes a small hand motion and the rest of the wolves scatter into the forest to guard the clearing....

"But the wind moves with more grace and beauty if accompanied by the flickering power and dance of the flame...."she whispers, and turns to him, looking him in the eyes...

She plays with the bandages on her hands, and begins...

"There are two things I have yet to tel you, and one is just a feeling. The other will answer the question I see burning in your eyes as to why I resigned myself to death when I fell." She looks up into the sky, and whispers, "I did not want to die, but fate has a funny way of playing with hearts and souls, and I thought maybe this was a test.....".

She knows that that answer is not going to satisfy him, and she hesitates, trying to get her thoughts straight, before continuing on.....

[ 04-01-2002, 05:47 PM: Message edited by: TAOWolf ]

[Cyril Darkcloud]

'Fate', she says once more using that word whose meaning he so little understands. His eyes follow hers to the sky, and he thinks, Still, it is as sacred in its own way to her as freedom to me. He rests a hand upon one of her knees and whispers, “I can accept what I do not understand, simply say what you feel you must.” His eyes move from the sky’s distant expansiveness to the nearness of her of breathing. ~ Yes, there is a certain sacredness about moments like these.

[ 04-01-2002, 06:05 PM: Message edited by: Cyril Darkcloud ]

[Neb]

Neb was getting increasingly annoyed by the tomb, he had managed to dispatch a few of the first guardians that he encountered and then run past the rest, now he was trapped in a labyrinthine maze of some sort.... He suspected that magics were also in effect to help keep him captive.

Turning a corner he suddenly found himself somewhere where he hadn't been before. A different part of the tomb, here the floors, ceiling and walls were made from marble. He must be getting closer.

The Psionic made his way down the steadily downwards-sloping passage, hearing in the distance the movement of unknown things....

[TAOWolf]

She lays her hand over his, and smiles softly. "na geamhraidean madadh-allaidh", she whispers, "Chosen by madadh-allaidh spiorad and Manannan Mac Lir, spiorad treaoraich".

She glances at him, and frowns, "You remember when I told you how and why I was cursed, and that there was a cruel twist? I did not tell you of the part, but I am going to now" ~Goddess spare me~ she thinks to herself.

She can't stop her hands from slightly shaking, and nervously plays with the bandages. She takes a deep breath, and it all comes out in a rush.....

"I had always wondered that if I ever bear a child, I had no way of knowing if he or she would be part wolf, or if the child would be normal. But the curse now extends to this child. I know now that it does. The wizard Glandish hinted to me that the child will be a part of the final prophecy, and would be the undoing (or at least an important part) of the Forsaken, at the cost of the child's life. In other words, the child's only purpose in life is to die to fulfill the prophecy."

She snarls in anger, and continues, "I am immortal, and cannot die, so if I fell, would not fate intervene for my safety? Whether or not fate did or not, YOU did......... and this morning I felt something within me I have never felt before.... something.....something........"

She stops suddenly, and her eyes widen. She stands, holding a hand over her mouth, and looks around wildly... She dashes for the trees, and falls to her knees, retching.....

[Cyril Darkcloud]

He sits silent and stunned. ~ There is life growing within her .... a child .... our child .... ~ The delighted surprise which begins to form words in his mouth remains mute, however, for she spoke of this wonder in a voice heavy with fear and sadness. Inwardly he curses that word ‘prophecy’ which claims to hold even the unborn in thrall to its cryptic speaking. The stormy and defiant independence which marks his people rises within him only to be checked by his concern for her. Refusing the demands of his exhausted limbs, he rises. Within the confused and conflicted gusting of feelings one note is struck with the thunder of his heart ~ There is life growing within her .... a child .... our child .... ~

Watching as her body shakes, his mind is greeted by the contrasting memory of that night ~ Can it truly have been seventeen years now? ~ when Kye’ri ri’essa, she whose life was like half of his heart, came to him to breathe the news that a child had begun to move within her. The feel of her words as he drew them into himself upon his breathing that night moves again within his lungs. Looking skyward, he whispers the hidden name of the Wind who moves where he will, the giver and taker of breath, whose life is more free than any other. He looks again to KayLisa and feels the air beginning to move. Stepping to the rune marked place where the flame and wind have maintained their dance, he bends and, opening his burned hand, reaches under the flame and gathers it into the winds moving along his palm. He rises and walks slowly to where she sits on the ground breathing the syllables of her names as he walks – KayLisa – GreyWolf – Liath Madadh-allaidh – Sight dancing in flame – Sof’ya ush’a ha’shama’im. The wind that carries the breathing of these syllables to her is unlike any that move within these lands so far from the sky, and it enfolds her, just as it did Kye’ri ri’essa that other night so long ago and still so sharply felt, with his life’s embrace of her life. He smiles at her reaction to the touch of this new wind upon her skin and within her lungs. He kneels beside her and with his left hand unwinds the dressing from her right. “Sof’ya ush’a ha’shama’im,” whispering his name for her once more, he brings his other hand forward and places the dance of wind with flame and flame with wind within the new air that has gathered above her open hand. He looks at her, then, enjoying the interplay of the flame's dancing light with the purple of her widening eyes.

[ 04-02-2002, 09:47 AM: Message edited by: Cyril Darkcloud ]

[TAOWolf]

She feels a new wind enfold her in it's soft embrace, and a smile touches her lips before she realizes what is happening......

~Yes, It will be alright... how many times have I told myself, you can change the course of prophecy if you just pull a thread here and there....~

She breathes this new wind in deep into her hope-starved lungs, and sighs... She watches as he unwraps the bandage from her hand, and looks at him in askance.

He whispers the name he has given her softly, and in amazement, her eyes slowly widening, she watches as he places the flame into her hand from his own. She watches, eyes widening further as the flame turns a deep purple/blue, with silver flashes dancing in this new wind he created.......

"Wind and flame as one, flame becomes one with wind, wind carries flame along............the both stronger for the oneness then if apart and separate.........." she whispers softly, watching the flame in her hand dance across the cuts in her hand.

She gasps as she watches the cuts start to heal slowly, and the rune carved into her palm, the silver glow normally seen has turned to a deep purple/silver tinge where the cuts have ran across the rune, creating a new rune in her palm.....

~What is this? A newly forged rune, of different power I can feel... stronger.....*GASP* a mixture of his spirit and mine have forged this rune??~

She reaches out with her left hand and grabs his right hand, holding it towards her palm out, and takes her right hand, softly touching palm to palm, and the flame flares briefly in a happy dance, then disappears between their palms......

"You have placed a child within me, Windbringer", she whispers to him, smiling at last at the thought........"A child that will be greater than you or I can imagine.."

She pulls her hand away slightly, and looks with astonishment at the rune symbol now showing among the burns on Cyril's palm...........

[ 04-02-2002, 04:21 PM: Message edited by: TAOWolf ]

[Cyril Darkcloud]

ooc: Rewrite.

There is the movement of new warmth within his hand, and movement new and burning within his limbs. The rune upon her hand has changed and its new lines of color speak with the symbols of life lived close to the sky. She speaks now of the child with a true and quiet joy ringing in her voice. “...... a child greater than either you or I can imagine,” she says. “She will be like her mother then,” he smiles.** Not pausing to look at the runic mark that has formed among his burns, he reaches forward in the movement of this new warmth that her cheek might be the first touch he feels. Allowing his touch to linger along the curves of her face, he reaches forward with his other hand and draws her forward into his arms and the embrace of the fire tinged air that surrounds him. The winds build as he holds her and, pressing the palm of his newly marked hand against hers, he whispers,

“My life breathing into your life.
Your life burning into mine.
The flames of your heart,
the storms of my heart
move now together
in the wind of our breathing
and the wind that we breathe.”

Savoring the air that enfolds them, he kisses her. The winds bear them upward as their lips meet until the flame tinged air that enfolds them glows red in the blush of sunfall.

** Of course, he has no right to know the child is a girl. And no, he does not even realize that he knows this at the moment.

[Cyril Darkcloud]

ooc: Spoke with Neb by e-mail earlier today about his character. I'll do my best to give him a fitting send off.

THE TOMB

The dead do not dream, they simply sleep. She laughs once more at the things these mortals believe are wisdom. If only they knew the dreams of this pile dust and bone before her – dreams which have fed her now unceasingly since she chanced upon this place so long ago. O yes! The dead do in fact dream, they dream without ceasing and should those dreams turn dark and terrible, as they have here, they become nightmares from which there is no waking. But there are other thoughts abroad in this place today. After so much time in silence and stillness, there is noise and movement, and a moment, just a moment but O! so strong, of stark and quivering terror. And there is something else here as well, something difficult to name even for her, a terror in the night deeper than any she has known before. The dead do dream and the dreaming of this dead pile of dust and bones will await her return, but a new terror now calls for her touch.

[TAOWolf]

The wolves watch carefully, as the wind bears Protector and Fire-eyes upwards, a little more comfortable with all this wind power now.

Star has a look of wistfulness in her eyes as she watches, and lays her head on her paws, sighing...

Grounder watches, tail wagging, and leaps at leaves stirred up by the wind, finally catching one, and chewing on it with abandon, keeping his eyes on the Protector.......

MoonGlow stands, shaking herself and pads into the clearing, laying by the packs and closes her eyes....

~the wolves have become accustomed to Cyril now and his strange ways, and will keep watch over the camp, secure in the knowledge they can send a message if anything is amiss~

[ 04-03-2002, 03:48 PM: Message edited by: TAOWolf ]