Tavern by the Creek (The Curses) Part III - Page 7

Cyril Darkcloud · 03-21-2002, 01:01 AM

He needs to move if he is to speak of this. And so he stands within the moving air, the movements of his own body unconsciously conforming themselves to the gliding touch of the breeze. His voice grows soft once again as he continues, “The Exiling is not a thing, not a state. It is an action, a movement that does not stop. It is not something that has happened to me. Even as I stand here with you, even as I rest in the stillness of night with you in my arms, it happens to me, this relentless and impelling force that drives my life away from my people. Like the wind itself, its movement does not stop.”

“I chose this ....”

His voice grows cold as speaks. “”Outsider knights came into our mountains those years ago and in their reckless questing awakened the Devouring Wind, the great predator who feasts upon the children of the clans of storm, the One whose whispers spoke to you this very night, scores of our people fell before we knew what had set upon us. My wife was among the first .....” He falls silent, his eyes filling with tears that do not fall and breathes deeply as the pre-dawn breezes begin to stir.

TAOWolf · 03-21-2002, 01:27 AM

Her eyes grow wider and wider with each word spoken, and finally, she stands with her fists clenched by her sides, purple/silver eyes fairly glowing with enough heat to start fire. Her plait undone, the wind plays with her silver/blonde hair, flowing the strands around and over her body; the runes glowing a bright silver, flashing in the firelight.

As his eyes fill with tears, and he becomes silent in fury she whispers one word into the wind, filling the word with emotion, and cursing it.......The word pushed from clenched teeth...........

"PALADINS......."

Her eyes flash angrily and she can't stand it, she has to release this anger.......
She turns and looks at the water flowing gently from the waterfall, singing its way over the rocks, and raises one clenched hand.

~She points one finger at the water, and a pure blue flame, born of fury, erupts into the water. The water cringes, then starts to steam and boil, a small whirpool of heated fury builds in the water, until it erupts skyward, torn to bits by the wind....~

She turns back, the fires still burning like small embers in her eyes, and she breathes slowly, trying to regain a sense of human emotion again.......

Cyril Darkcloud · 03-21-2002, 02:09 AM

He feels the tensing fury in her movements as she begins to stand and is surprised at its strength. The hatred in her voice echoes within his ears as and stuns him moreso than the power that erupts from her hand. His own eyes flash with the sudden recognition of remembered death as the whirlpool is torn and scattered in the winds. He moves near to her, lightly pressing his hand upon her shoulder for a moment. ~ There is too much fury within each of us for me to touch her for very long here. ~ The air grows still as he speaks, “While our spelldancers struggled to keep the Devouring Wind away from our villages the elders of the clans met to pronounce the Scattering Death upon the knights.” His words begin to bite with the coldness of winter. “As she who was half of my heart was among the first to be lost, I claimed the right to execute the sentence. For days I hunted them through the mountains – hour by hour and piece by piece removing their confidence in all that they had been taught about battle and honor and the power of their outsider gods to protect them. I broke them and then I met them face to face within a killing storm .....” He breaks off his words, trembling at the memory and looking again at KayLisa before deciding to continue. “The winds tore the very breath from their throats denying them even the luxury of last words. I sang the Song of Scattering over them and as the wind reached the height of its fury I slew them all. And with each one’s final breath, his soul was torn to pieces by the wind and scattered beyond even the reach of his god ....” He stops speaking, numb in the horror of those moments, the shrieking of the Scattering Wind filling his thoughts.

Again his eyes find hers and he continues to speak, the bitter edge gone from his voice. “I gathered their ‘sacred’ baubles, those things for the sake of which they awakened the Desecrating Hunger and brought them to the elders. The destruction of these items released enough power into the storm magics of our spelldancers to hold the Devourer at bay while a course of action was decided upon .......” Moving to his quiver he withdraws the arrow he had so recently made. “These few arrowheads that I made from the golden symbols they wore are all that is left of them.”

[ 03-21-2002, 02:27 AM: Message edited by: Cyril Darkcloud ]

TAOWolf · 03-21-2002, 01:30 PM

She feels his hand upon her shoulder, and does not react for a few moments, still trying to bank the fires of power trying to escape in a mad rush from her. As she listens to his words, she finally reacts with a semi-human emotion......

She sits down on the log by the fire, and watches his face as he speaks, watching the raw emotion showing there, and is almost brought to tears by the pain she is making him relive.....almost.

She needs to know this, and listens intently looking for clues or ways that will help her make her decisions in the near future. As he draws the arrow he made, she finally understands the true meaning of it and shudders..........She feels the air begin to change around them, and looks around quickly, her eyes finally settling back on him, and the inner fire of conflict she sees in his eyes...

[ 03-21-2002, 04:28 PM: Message edited by: TAOWolf ]

Cyril Darkcloud · 03-21-2002, 03:00 PM

The air begins to move around him as he speaks and his bearing changes. Sounds, feelings and movements that are never far from his consciousness now begin to assert themselves in his speaking. “An althing had been called that one of our number might be chosen to bear the wight of the bond that ties that Terrible and never satisfied Hunger to our people and to carry that bond of terror and with it the Devouring Wind away from our lands and our living and into the outsider lands where it might be lost. This is the true character of the Exiling. The same Wind that scatters one among the Lands Far from the Sky and strips him of fellowship with family and clan makes him, paradoxically, more a representative of his people than before – a life surrendered to whatever path along which the Wind will move it. This has the effect of binding the Devourer to the exiled one – as long as he lives, the Devourer cannot attack the people and the scattering of his life into the outsider world drags the Devourer in its wake, pulling far from the Clans of Storm. It is curse, to be sure, but it is much more a curse upon the Devouring Wind than upon that one who is exiled.”

“The burden of the Exiling is the lot of the oldest of the stormwalkers and these were gathered for the casting of lots within the air. But that monstrous and desecrating Hunger had begun to whisper into the thoughts of she who was my daughter .....” His eyes blaze as his hand moves to the locket and his words harden like stones. “As the Clanmaster intoned his chant and opened his hand to grasp the lot the winds bore to him, I stepped forward and seized his hand in my own and would not release it until all other lots had fallen to the ground and the winds began to gather around me.” A fierce and defiant independence ringing in his voice, he turns to look directly at her. “I chose this, KayLisa ......” His gaze does not move from her eyes as he speaks. His voice lower now, but no less intense, he continues, “And I made other choices. In choosing to return, in asserting that she would again be my daughter, I chose to return and be broken that the Devourer might be destroyed.” His voice hardens once more, “You must understand this and have no illusions – the day will come when I must face the great Devourer of my people within the Scattering Wind, the very wind that destroyed those foolish knights, and to die a broken death within that wind is to die a death from which there is no returning. I chose this, KayLisa, and this is where my choice must lead if there is to be an ending of this and if I am to see how the child has grown during these lost years of my Exiling.” He stops speaking and simply looks at her, exhausted from the storm of memory and feeling.

ooc: Cyril's not the only one who's exhausted after all of this exposition.

[ 03-21-2002, 03:07 PM: Message edited by: Cyril Darkcloud ]

TAOWolf · 03-21-2002, 04:52 PM

She sits almost spellbound, listening...........and the more she listens, the brighter her eyes glow. She watches as he grabs the locket, and her hands instantly go to cover the gasp coming from her mouth.

As the tone of his voice grows colder and harder, she sits slightly back, her eyes not able to leave his as he continues......she slowly starts to shake her head, hands still covering her mouth..........~no.....no, no, no,....I will find a way to keep him from dying.........I WILL, I have to.........I have to.......~

He stops and simply stands looking at her, and she can see his exhaustion. She desparately wants to run to him, fling her arms around his neck, and tell him it will be alright, that everything will work out to the good, but she knows she can't say this............not yet.....

She looks into the fire, then at him. She slowly walks over to her pack, and draws out a filmy robe of silk, and draws it over her shoulders. She kneels there a moment, and finally stands turning to him. She lightly lays a hand on his cheek and sits down on the log by the fire again. She betrays herself by clenching her hands together tightly in her lap, finally looking up with tears in her eyes.....

"I hope you know I do not do this to hurt you, or to harden you against me, but I have to ask. Do you understand? This is tearing me apart, and I have no choice but to ask these questions..... your "Wind" has put the doubts in my mind, and I must know the answers.........please, please do not think I do this to hurt you, I would rather die in your place so you may live to be with your daughter than ever cause you pain..." She whispers softly, "But I have to know, I am sorry............."

She looks into the fire, wanting nothing more than to go to him, comfort him and herself. But she must ask these last two questions......and then see if he will still want her near or not....

"Cyril, what happened to your wife, and what did the Wind mean by the true story?" She flinches as she asks this question, and turns to look at the rising sun, wondering if...........~I will not think of that now~

She waits for him to speak, afraid to look up, expecting to see rage and hatred in his face for her asking this question............

TAOWolf · 03-21-2002, 07:14 PM

"THE ANCIENT MAGES TOWER OF WHITE" IN THE NORTHERN KINGDOM OF ARYAIL

The Fay're steps through the shimmering door of air, and sets foot upon the crumbled stones of the ancient path to the tower. She looks around and heads towards the doorway, now fallen in ruin, and climbs over tumbled stones making her way deeper into the tower.

She senses the talisman, and hunts like a hound following the scent, being drawn ever deeper and deeper....

"THE VALLEY TOWER IN MIRWALL"

Aine paces back and forth, back and forth. She can feel the wards weaken, but not enough to escape, yet.....She grins evilly, being patient, but already looking forward to all the men she will kill for their souls, their sweet suculent souls..........Manannan, my father, you shall pay for this.........oooOOoo shall you and your brethen pay.............

"THE DESERT OF SHALMAIR"

Aoibhell stands silently still, embedded in the an reul spiorad a chlach (star stone), only her eyes slowly opening and closing with the rythm of the desert wind blowing softly around the stone. She is curious about being awakened at first, ~it has been so long, so long.........~.....That she can move her eyelids is testimonial that the wards are weakening.......

She smiles in her mind, thinking "soon I will play my harp, so very soon I will have the minds to play with again, to do my bidding........"

"THE MOUNTAIN RANGE OF TRUILLAH"

Caillech reaches down with a knarled hand, and pets the DeathHound lying next to her. "Soon, my pet, we will have the taste of flesh again.....". Dormarth pants, looking up at her, his bloodred eyes glowing in the firelight.

[ 03-21-2002, 08:39 PM: Message edited by: TAOWolf ]

Cyril Darkcloud · 03-21-2002, 09:02 PM

He walks slowly and silently to where she sits and reaching down to her finds the bottom of her chin with his right hand and gently lifts her face that he might look at her. “Sof’ya,” he smiles, all harshness gone from his voice, “Sof’ya ush’a ha’shama’im.” Taking her hands, he walks with her away from the log and turns her toward the blush of dawn. He stands behind her, wrapping his arms around her and breathing gently over her. “Her name was Kye’ri ri’essa – laughter under sun,” he speaks simply and softly. “She was among the first to be taken by the Devourer’s hunger and it took great delight in replacing the laughter of her name with the whispered terrors it awoke within her .....” His arms tighten around her and he pulls her close against himself. “I do not know what else to say. The invasion of her spirit was so sudden and so complete and from such an unknown source that nothing could be done for her. I could only watch ..... and ..... listen ......”

Again he falls silent allowing the sadness of this speaking to wash over him. “..... Maria would have come to the same end had we arrived much later than we did.”

“Laughter under sun,” he says softly once more, “Kye’ri ri’essa. Because she has died, her name is not lost to me, although her voice and her touch are only mine in memory.” He stops speaking, watching the sun climb above the treeline sending the golden lines of its rising washing across the sky. “Sof’ya ush’a ha’shama’im,” he whispers over her as he turns her around to face him. “I do not know what those whispers meant about a true story as I do not know the stories they told you.” He looks intently at her. “Know this, however. The great secret of its power is that the whispered speaking of this Wind does not lie and does not invent terrors which do not exist already within the person to whom it speaks. Its truths may be partial and incomplete but there is truth to be found in what it says.”

His hand caresses her cheek and his eyes, blazing with the same fierce acceptance of that night upon the mountain, find hers. “Is it really so difficult for you to believe that someone can accept you?” She begins to speak, but his lips find hers and, cutting off her words, silently speak the strength of his acceptance.

TAOWolf · 03-21-2002, 09:36 PM

She melts into the kiss, taking his acceptance, and giving it back fully. ~I will never doubt this again, no matter how hard the whispers that damn Wind tried to implant in me.........~

For now, they are both tired, and enough questions have been asked and answered. With the rising of the dawn, she realizes that they should stay another night here, to recover, and think over all that has happened.

She pulls away slightly, and lets him see the raw emotion in her eyes and face, leaving no doubt as to how her feelings are for him now and forever..

She whispers in his ear, her breath tickling him, "Let us stay another night, to recoup and regroup our minds". She folds back into his embrace, asking, "I would like some tea...."

[ 03-21-2002, 10:22 PM: Message edited by: TAOWolf ]

TAOWolf · 03-24-2002, 01:15 PM

She shivers slightly, as the wind blows down thru the clearing, softly stirring her hair.......

She grasps the robe tighter, and stares at Cyril, a haunted look in her eyes.....~will I ever be able to enjoy a small breeze, without remembering this?~

She shivers again.....

03-21-2002, 01:01 AM	#61
Cyril Darkcloud Lord Soth Join Date: February 7, 2002 Location: New York Posts: 1,980	He needs to move if he is to speak of this. And so he stands within the moving air, the movements of his own body unconsciously conforming themselves to the gliding touch of the breeze. His voice grows soft once again as he continues, “The Exiling is not a thing, not a state. It is an action, a movement that does not stop. It is not something that has happened to me. Even as I stand here with you, even as I rest in the stillness of night with you in my arms, it happens to me, this relentless and impelling force that drives my life away from my people. Like the wind itself, its movement does not stop.” “I chose this ....” His voice grows cold as speaks. “”Outsider knights came into our mountains those years ago and in their reckless questing awakened the Devouring Wind, the great predator who feasts upon the children of the clans of storm, the One whose whispers spoke to you this very night, scores of our people fell before we knew what had set upon us. My wife was among the first .....” He falls silent, his eyes filling with tears that do not fall and breathes deeply as the pre-dawn breezes begin to stir. __________________ One does not control the Wind. One enters it, feels its freedom. And moves.

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03-21-2002, 01:27 AM	#62
TAOWolf White Dragon Join Date: December 1, 2001 Location: Mountains of Arkansas, US Posts: 1,887	Her eyes grow wider and wider with each word spoken, and finally, she stands with her fists clenched by her sides, purple/silver eyes fairly glowing with enough heat to start fire. Her plait undone, the wind plays with her silver/blonde hair, flowing the strands around and over her body; the runes glowing a bright silver, flashing in the firelight. As his eyes fill with tears, and he becomes silent in fury she whispers one word into the wind, filling the word with emotion, and cursing it.......The word pushed from clenched teeth........... "PALADINS......." Her eyes flash angrily and she can't stand it, she has to release this anger....... She turns and looks at the water flowing gently from the waterfall, singing its way over the rocks, and raises one clenched hand. ~She points one finger at the water, and a pure blue flame, born of fury, erupts into the water. The water cringes, then starts to steam and boil, a small whirpool of heated fury builds in the water, until it erupts skyward, torn to bits by the wind....~ She turns back, the fires still burning like small embers in her eyes, and she breathes slowly, trying to regain a sense of human emotion again.......

03-21-2002, 02:09 AM	#63
Cyril Darkcloud Lord Soth Join Date: February 7, 2002 Location: New York Posts: 1,980	He feels the tensing fury in her movements as she begins to stand and is surprised at its strength. The hatred in her voice echoes within his ears as and stuns him moreso than the power that erupts from her hand. His own eyes flash with the sudden recognition of remembered death as the whirlpool is torn and scattered in the winds. He moves near to her, lightly pressing his hand upon her shoulder for a moment. ~ There is too much fury within each of us for me to touch her for very long here. ~ The air grows still as he speaks, “While our spelldancers struggled to keep the Devouring Wind away from our villages the elders of the clans met to pronounce the Scattering Death upon the knights.” His words begin to bite with the coldness of winter. “As she who was half of my heart was among the first to be lost, I claimed the right to execute the sentence. For days I hunted them through the mountains – hour by hour and piece by piece removing their confidence in all that they had been taught about battle and honor and the power of their outsider gods to protect them. I broke them and then I met them face to face within a killing storm .....” He breaks off his words, trembling at the memory and looking again at KayLisa before deciding to continue. “The winds tore the very breath from their throats denying them even the luxury of last words. I sang the Song of Scattering over them and as the wind reached the height of its fury I slew them all. And with each one’s final breath, his soul was torn to pieces by the wind and scattered beyond even the reach of his god ....” He stops speaking, numb in the horror of those moments, the shrieking of the Scattering Wind filling his thoughts. Again his eyes find hers and he continues to speak, the bitter edge gone from his voice. “I gathered their ‘sacred’ baubles, those things for the sake of which they awakened the Desecrating Hunger and brought them to the elders. The destruction of these items released enough power into the storm magics of our spelldancers to hold the Devourer at bay while a course of action was decided upon .......” Moving to his quiver he withdraws the arrow he had so recently made. “These few arrowheads that I made from the golden symbols they wore are all that is left of them.” [ 03-21-2002, 02:27 AM: Message edited by: Cyril Darkcloud ]

03-21-2002, 01:30 PM	#64
TAOWolf White Dragon Join Date: December 1, 2001 Location: Mountains of Arkansas, US Posts: 1,887	She feels his hand upon her shoulder, and does not react for a few moments, still trying to bank the fires of power trying to escape in a mad rush from her. As she listens to his words, she finally reacts with a semi-human emotion...... She sits down on the log by the fire, and watches his face as he speaks, watching the raw emotion showing there, and is almost brought to tears by the pain she is making him relive.....almost. She needs to know this, and listens intently looking for clues or ways that will help her make her decisions in the near future. As he draws the arrow he made, she finally understands the true meaning of it and shudders..........She feels the air begin to change around them, and looks around quickly, her eyes finally settling back on him, and the inner fire of conflict she sees in his eyes... [ 03-21-2002, 04:28 PM: Message edited by: TAOWolf ]

03-21-2002, 03:00 PM	#65
Cyril Darkcloud Lord Soth Join Date: February 7, 2002 Location: New York Posts: 1,980	The air begins to move around him as he speaks and his bearing changes. Sounds, feelings and movements that are never far from his consciousness now begin to assert themselves in his speaking. “An althing had been called that one of our number might be chosen to bear the wight of the bond that ties that Terrible and never satisfied Hunger to our people and to carry that bond of terror and with it the Devouring Wind away from our lands and our living and into the outsider lands where it might be lost. This is the true character of the Exiling. The same Wind that scatters one among the Lands Far from the Sky and strips him of fellowship with family and clan makes him, paradoxically, more a representative of his people than before – a life surrendered to whatever path along which the Wind will move it. This has the effect of binding the Devourer to the exiled one – as long as he lives, the Devourer cannot attack the people and the scattering of his life into the outsider world drags the Devourer in its wake, pulling far from the Clans of Storm. It is curse, to be sure, but it is much more a curse upon the Devouring Wind than upon that one who is exiled.” “The burden of the Exiling is the lot of the oldest of the stormwalkers and these were gathered for the casting of lots within the air. But that monstrous and desecrating Hunger had begun to whisper into the thoughts of she who was my daughter .....” His eyes blaze as his hand moves to the locket and his words harden like stones. “As the Clanmaster intoned his chant and opened his hand to grasp the lot the winds bore to him, I stepped forward and seized his hand in my own and would not release it until all other lots had fallen to the ground and the winds began to gather around me.” A fierce and defiant independence ringing in his voice, he turns to look directly at her. “I chose this, KayLisa ......” His gaze does not move from her eyes as he speaks. His voice lower now, but no less intense, he continues, “And I made other choices. In choosing to return, in asserting that she would again be my daughter, I chose to return and be broken that the Devourer might be destroyed.” His voice hardens once more, “You must understand this and have no illusions – the day will come when I must face the great Devourer of my people within the Scattering Wind, the very wind that destroyed those foolish knights, and to die a broken death within that wind is to die a death from which there is no returning. I chose this, KayLisa, and this is where my choice must lead if there is to be an ending of this and if I am to see how the child has grown during these lost years of my Exiling.” He stops speaking and simply looks at her, exhausted from the storm of memory and feeling. ooc: Cyril's not the only one who's exhausted after all of this exposition. [ 03-21-2002, 03:07 PM: Message edited by: Cyril Darkcloud ]

03-21-2002, 04:52 PM	#66
TAOWolf White Dragon Join Date: December 1, 2001 Location: Mountains of Arkansas, US Posts: 1,887	She sits almost spellbound, listening...........and the more she listens, the brighter her eyes glow. She watches as he grabs the locket, and her hands instantly go to cover the gasp coming from her mouth. As the tone of his voice grows colder and harder, she sits slightly back, her eyes not able to leave his as he continues......she slowly starts to shake her head, hands still covering her mouth..........~no.....no, no, no,....I will find a way to keep him from dying.........I WILL, I have to.........I have to.......~ He stops and simply stands looking at her, and she can see his exhaustion. She desparately wants to run to him, fling her arms around his neck, and tell him it will be alright, that everything will work out to the good, but she knows she can't say this............not yet..... She looks into the fire, then at him. She slowly walks over to her pack, and draws out a filmy robe of silk, and draws it over her shoulders. She kneels there a moment, and finally stands turning to him. She lightly lays a hand on his cheek and sits down on the log by the fire again. She betrays herself by clenching her hands together tightly in her lap, finally looking up with tears in her eyes..... "I hope you know I do not do this to hurt you, or to harden you against me, but I have to ask. Do you understand? This is tearing me apart, and I have no choice but to ask these questions..... your "Wind" has put the doubts in my mind, and I must know the answers.........please, please do not think I do this to hurt you, I would rather die in your place so you may live to be with your daughter than ever cause you pain..." She whispers softly, "*But I have to know, I am sorry............." She looks into the fire, wanting nothing more than to go to him, comfort him and herself. But she must ask these last two questions......and then see if he will still want her near or not.... "Cyril, what happened to your wife, and what did the Wind mean by the true story?*" She flinches as she asks this question, and turns to look at the rising sun, wondering if...........~I will not think of that now~ She waits for him to speak, afraid to look up, expecting to see rage and hatred in his face for her asking this question............

03-21-2002, 07:14 PM	#67
TAOWolf White Dragon Join Date: December 1, 2001 Location: Mountains of Arkansas, US Posts: 1,887	*"THE ANCIENT MAGES TOWER OF WHITE" IN THE NORTHERN KINGDOM OF ARYAIL* The Fay're steps through the shimmering door of air, and sets foot upon the crumbled stones of the ancient path to the tower. She looks around and heads towards the doorway, now fallen in ruin, and climbs over tumbled stones making her way deeper into the tower. She senses the talisman, and hunts like a hound following the scent, being drawn ever deeper and deeper.... "*THE VALLEY TOWER IN MIRWALL" Aine* paces back and forth, back and forth. She can feel the wards weaken, but not enough to escape, yet.....She grins evilly, being patient, but already looking forward to all the men she will kill for their souls, their sweet suculent souls..........Manannan, my father, you shall pay for this.........oooOOoo shall you and your brethen pay............. "*THE DESERT OF SHALMAIR" Aoibhell stands silently still, embedded in the an reul spiorad a chlach* (star stone), only her eyes slowly opening and closing with the rythm of the desert wind blowing softly around the stone. She is curious about being awakened at first, ~it has been so long, so long.........~.....That she can move her eyelids is testimonial that the wards are weakening....... She smiles in her mind, thinking "soon I will play my harp, so very soon I will have the minds to play with again, to do my bidding........" *"THE MOUNTAIN RANGE OF TRUILLAH"* Caillech reaches down with a knarled hand, and pets the DeathHound lying next to her. "Soon, my pet, we will have the taste of flesh again.....". Dormarth pants, looking up at her, his bloodred eyes glowing in the firelight. [ 03-21-2002, 08:39 PM: Message edited by: TAOWolf ]

03-21-2002, 09:02 PM	#68
Cyril Darkcloud Lord Soth Join Date: February 7, 2002 Location: New York Posts: 1,980	He walks slowly and silently to where she sits and reaching down to her finds the bottom of her chin with his right hand and gently lifts her face that he might look at her. “Sof’ya,” he smiles, all harshness gone from his voice, “Sof’ya ush’a ha’shama’im.” Taking her hands, he walks with her away from the log and turns her toward the blush of dawn. He stands behind her, wrapping his arms around her and breathing gently over her. “Her name was Kye’ri ri’essa – laughter under sun,” he speaks simply and softly. “She was among the first to be taken by the Devourer’s hunger and it took great delight in replacing the laughter of her name with the whispered terrors it awoke within her .....” His arms tighten around her and he pulls her close against himself. “I do not know what else to say. The invasion of her spirit was so sudden and so complete and from such an unknown source that nothing could be done for her. I could only watch ..... and ..... listen ......” Again he falls silent allowing the sadness of this speaking to wash over him. “..... Maria would have come to the same end had we arrived much later than we did.” “Laughter under sun,” he says softly once more, “Kye’ri ri’essa. Because she has died, her name is not lost to me, although her voice and her touch are only mine in memory.” He stops speaking, watching the sun climb above the treeline sending the golden lines of its rising washing across the sky. “Sof’ya ush’a ha’shama’im,” he whispers over her as he turns her around to face him. “I do not know what those whispers meant about a true story as I do not know the stories they told you.” He looks intently at her. “Know this, however. The great secret of its power is that the whispered speaking of this Wind does not lie and does not invent terrors which do not exist already within the person to whom it speaks. Its truths may be partial and incomplete but there is truth to be found in what it says.” His hand caresses her cheek and his eyes, blazing with the same fierce acceptance of that night upon the mountain, find hers. “Is it really so difficult for you to believe that someone can accept you?” She begins to speak, but his lips find hers and, cutting off her words, silently speak the strength of his acceptance.

03-21-2002, 09:36 PM	#69
TAOWolf White Dragon Join Date: December 1, 2001 Location: Mountains of Arkansas, US Posts: 1,887	She melts into the kiss, taking his acceptance, and giving it back fully. ~I will never doubt this again, no matter how hard the whispers that damn Wind tried to implant in me.........~ For now, they are both tired, and enough questions have been asked and answered. With the rising of the dawn, she realizes that they should stay another night here, to recover, and think over all that has happened. She pulls away slightly, and lets him see the raw emotion in her eyes and face, leaving no doubt as to how her feelings are for him now and forever.. She whispers in his ear, her breath tickling him, "Let us stay another night, to recoup and regroup our minds". She folds back into his embrace, asking, "I would like some tea...." [ 03-21-2002, 10:22 PM: Message edited by: TAOWolf ]

03-24-2002, 01:15 PM	#70
TAOWolf White Dragon Join Date: December 1, 2001 Location: Mountains of Arkansas, US Posts: 1,887	She shivers slightly, as the wind blows down thru the clearing, softly stirring her hair....... She grasps the robe tighter, and stares at Cyril, a haunted look in her eyes.....~will I ever be able to enjoy a small breeze, without remembering this?~ She shivers again.....

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