Embers drifted off of the campfire, dancing in the air to disappear like ghosts in the wind. The smell of cooked meats and wet grass mingled in the glow. Amis laid back amidst the warmth, relaxed.
The trail meat had been rather tasty, if not slightly burned. Amis was never an accomplished cook. Her father had informed her as such. Father was never good for encouragement, or anything else. “Swing ‘arder!‘arder, or it’s back to th’ slave campes with ye,” the voice in her memories had screamed. Pleasing him had been impossible. In Either way, the food turned out more than acceptable this eve, and this pleased Amis for what it was worth.
The sky was clear, once again, just as it had been several nights ago. A tune came to her mind. A sailor had been singing it not but a few days ago. It was a sad, quiet number, and though Amis had never been a musician in her life, she had a good sense of rhythm and pitch. As she whistled the tune in the dark, she thought of why she had bothered to step out of the gates of Cear.
Dreams were funny things; strange things. Amis had more than once had her share of imagery and things that could only be described as visions in her youth. The dream of five cardinal birds sitting on a dying tree had portended the coming of the cult to her old village. Five men in crimson robes arrived, spreading the teachings of a deity that filled her ears and heart with pinpricks of suspicion. Though their rhetoric was honey, Amis had known better, and she watched few in the town regard them; save for Ashram.
Ashram fell into their promises like an animal to a trap, seduced by the prospect of gain.
The change was immediate. His mannerisms had turned cold toward everyone. Amis awoke to his absence. He had snuck out of the house. Through the second floor window, she had watched him sink into the depths of the wilderness, swallowed by the woods and the seduction that gripped him.
As perfectly as though it had been the night before, Amis could see Lake Aa’duin’s surface rippling with the light of the moon. Amis saw Ashram’s back, calling his name as he doggedly walked down the dirt trail.
“Ashram!” she cried. Amis was getting closer to him. When he turned, his expression was ice, and her mind wondered what had happened to the boy she had played tag with when they were but six seasons old.
“Go home, Amis.” He said, and turned back to his path. “Go home before you hurt yourself.”
Amis stepped forward to reach out to him, only to hear the sound of steel leave its chambered position at his waist. The sword leveled dangerously close to her face and remained still, the eyes of its master gazing down its plane like a hawk.
----
Amis opened her eyes. The feeling that gripped her heart after the dream had brought her to this place. With every step it had grown stronger.
Her eyes leveled into the campfire. A loud, piercing whistle came into her ears; the winds grew, and as though a hammer had smacked down from the heavens above, a crackle and whoosh filled the campfire. In divine grace, the image of a phoenix burned from the embers of the flames, stretching outwards towards the sky in a hallowed cry. Just as quickly, the wind blew and the flames were no more, leaving her in the dim light of the moon. The girl widened her eyes and rose to her feet, stepping back.
Her visions were becoming reality more and more. The being reaching out to her had made itself known. A word, a name caught at the edge of her throat. She had known it from tales passed down by her Uncle, and the obscure books he held. At the edge of her throat, it teetered toward the tip of her tongue, wishing to give sound to the phrase.
The road beckoned onward. There would be no sleep tonight. Whomever or whatever had grabbed her attention had beckoned her forward. Taking a cue from her instincts and her heart, she stepped off of the beaten path of the road, and into the wilderness, just as her brother did so many nights before. Amis was devoid of fear.
He; the voice, awaited her arrival.
Embers
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Nathen Arnes
- Dasarian Hero
- Posts: 614
- Joined: Thu Feb 14, 2008 7:48 am
- Main Player Character: Vick Datson
- Other PCs: Vin Blackwater
Zach Banski
Alchfrid Datson - Location: Carbondale, IL
Re: Embers
Great work, keep 'em coming! You've got my interest.
|||Vick Datson|||
|||Beckett Lebeau|||
|||Beckett Lebeau|||
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Shalandravv
- Commoner
- Posts: 30
- Joined: Sat Oct 14, 2006 9:37 pm
Re: Embers
Day had come and gone as quickly as it had arrived. Rel reached the peak of his duties on the skyward horizon, and fiery-orange swept over the plains and grass. A ball of fire across the sky washed over the sheer cliff that Amis had found herself walking exhaustingly upon, accented by the violet of fresh night and starlight.
Fresh liquid touched her lips as she drained hungrily from her waterskin. The heat of late spring was finally beginning to cool in the coming evening. Amis was exhausted in body, but not spirit or mind. The determined burning in her heart, the guiding compass that had been planted there, told of a journey’s end, soon.
Her forehead beaded with sweat from a journey with no stops. Her Mohawk dipped forward in small bangs, and her pale-blue eyes shone with wild awe at the sights around her. The cliff rounded about, creating a small valley to her far left. Below, water glinted in the sunlight, brought down by tender falls. The air was sweet like honeydew, dancing on her tongue with each breath. Not far now.
Amis regarded herself as the daughter of a man unknown, and a mother long since gone. Taking her adopted family’s name had been a hollow gesture. As great as her love for her brother and uncle had been, she had never truly felt at home. The road was as close a companion to her as anyone else, ‘till now.
A part of Amis longed for her Elven heritage. As she marched the gentle inclines of the upper valleys, she thought of Shazol Os Shorys, the sage and merchant elf who had come to Falbaron every so often for trade and hospitality. He had taken fond to Amis when she was young. Shazol called Amis “Vaedas,” or “Red Star”. She had taken the name fondly to heart, citing it occasionally as her middle name. The woods of Rian beckoned her, as they always had.
The destination lay close. As she stepped through a narrow passage of tight-bound trees and grass, she parted way into a small clearing. A small building, once part of a large greater complex, lay in neglect. The ruins were slabs of stone laid about in random shapes and sizes. The remnants of gold-emboss and occasional bronze gave the impression of importance, and it seemed the door on the smaller building had less decay or rust on it. Perhaps it was still in use.
Amis, from the signs of her dreams and reality, began to suspect what had been calling her. She gave no word to her thoughts, out of fear and awe. Were it true, however, Amis knew not what to do. A small creak caught her attention, and she flinched to turn behind her. As the horizon grew more and more purple, she caught eye of a man in a brown robe, masked by the shade.
“Child, you arrive,” the stranger said. Amis had one hand upon her sword. Grudgingly, she found herself letting the hand rest at her side. “And none too late or early, it would seem. Precisely on time.”
“What be this place?” Amis asked. The stranger found a fallen log and sat down peacefully upon it. He drew back his hood, revealing a face that was old, yet handsome. His black hair had tinges of gray and he seemed slightly balding. His brown eyes sparkled with some hidden knowledge that danced in his thoughts.
“This place,” the stranger began, folding his hands. “Is a temple, long since forgotten save by a select few, such as myself.”
“A temple t’ whom?”
“Ah, I think you know the answer to that already, don’t you?” The stranger said.
Amis stood silent, unspeaking. The words formed in her mind and heart, but she hesitated. The stranger chuckled pleasantly.
“Worry not, friend. I am not some Imperial spy, nor am I a man who seeks to burn you at the stake. Indeed, you and I walk the same path, one laid of fire and of mercy.”
“Tyrak,” Amis concluded.
“Aye,” the stranger nodded slowly.
A starling chirped from the branches, filling the long silence between the pair. The breeze rattled the leaves and Amis slowly sat before the wise stranger before her. There would be much to tell, and much to learn.
The day grew dimmer, and the night was upon them. Wisdom would come into the deepest parts of the evening, illuminating the darkness in the sweep of a fiery torch.
Fresh liquid touched her lips as she drained hungrily from her waterskin. The heat of late spring was finally beginning to cool in the coming evening. Amis was exhausted in body, but not spirit or mind. The determined burning in her heart, the guiding compass that had been planted there, told of a journey’s end, soon.
Her forehead beaded with sweat from a journey with no stops. Her Mohawk dipped forward in small bangs, and her pale-blue eyes shone with wild awe at the sights around her. The cliff rounded about, creating a small valley to her far left. Below, water glinted in the sunlight, brought down by tender falls. The air was sweet like honeydew, dancing on her tongue with each breath. Not far now.
Amis regarded herself as the daughter of a man unknown, and a mother long since gone. Taking her adopted family’s name had been a hollow gesture. As great as her love for her brother and uncle had been, she had never truly felt at home. The road was as close a companion to her as anyone else, ‘till now.
A part of Amis longed for her Elven heritage. As she marched the gentle inclines of the upper valleys, she thought of Shazol Os Shorys, the sage and merchant elf who had come to Falbaron every so often for trade and hospitality. He had taken fond to Amis when she was young. Shazol called Amis “Vaedas,” or “Red Star”. She had taken the name fondly to heart, citing it occasionally as her middle name. The woods of Rian beckoned her, as they always had.
The destination lay close. As she stepped through a narrow passage of tight-bound trees and grass, she parted way into a small clearing. A small building, once part of a large greater complex, lay in neglect. The ruins were slabs of stone laid about in random shapes and sizes. The remnants of gold-emboss and occasional bronze gave the impression of importance, and it seemed the door on the smaller building had less decay or rust on it. Perhaps it was still in use.
Amis, from the signs of her dreams and reality, began to suspect what had been calling her. She gave no word to her thoughts, out of fear and awe. Were it true, however, Amis knew not what to do. A small creak caught her attention, and she flinched to turn behind her. As the horizon grew more and more purple, she caught eye of a man in a brown robe, masked by the shade.
“Child, you arrive,” the stranger said. Amis had one hand upon her sword. Grudgingly, she found herself letting the hand rest at her side. “And none too late or early, it would seem. Precisely on time.”
“What be this place?” Amis asked. The stranger found a fallen log and sat down peacefully upon it. He drew back his hood, revealing a face that was old, yet handsome. His black hair had tinges of gray and he seemed slightly balding. His brown eyes sparkled with some hidden knowledge that danced in his thoughts.
“This place,” the stranger began, folding his hands. “Is a temple, long since forgotten save by a select few, such as myself.”
“A temple t’ whom?”
“Ah, I think you know the answer to that already, don’t you?” The stranger said.
Amis stood silent, unspeaking. The words formed in her mind and heart, but she hesitated. The stranger chuckled pleasantly.
“Worry not, friend. I am not some Imperial spy, nor am I a man who seeks to burn you at the stake. Indeed, you and I walk the same path, one laid of fire and of mercy.”
“Tyrak,” Amis concluded.
“Aye,” the stranger nodded slowly.
A starling chirped from the branches, filling the long silence between the pair. The breeze rattled the leaves and Amis slowly sat before the wise stranger before her. There would be much to tell, and much to learn.
The day grew dimmer, and the night was upon them. Wisdom would come into the deepest parts of the evening, illuminating the darkness in the sweep of a fiery torch.
-
Shalandravv
- Commoner
- Posts: 30
- Joined: Sat Oct 14, 2006 9:37 pm
Re: Embers
Amis felt a lump in her throat. The stranger’s name, she had learned, was Arrik, of Girru. Girru was the old name of the God, under the flag of the Dasarian nation, and was what he had been known as before Varana had come to lay claim to the continent; a name older than any empire or allegiance.
The pair sat on logs opposite one another as a roaring fire burned between the pair. Time had seemed to slow, and the forests encircled them like black accents against a violet night. This was her moment.
Amis wondered whether this man was loyal to imperial creed, or a turncoat. Ultimately, she decided it did not concern her. War between nations of old and new had never been a part of her, and it seemed so miniscule that even Varana paid little attention anymore. What did matter was that Tyrak, Girru, had called her here, and they were brother and sister in faith, if not nation.
“Why did he choose me,” Amis asked “and not someone else?”
“Some come to Tyrak, or Girru, and others are chosen,” Arrik said, “In the latter case, it’s not a matter of what faith you may have lacked or were filled with. You simply were picked.”
Amis narrowed her eyes, twirling a small, plucked reed in between her thumb and forefinger. Uncle had been the one with faith, not her. Tharon, not Tyrak, had been with her family for years. In her brother’s case, she had learned that it was Ch’thia he had come to worship. Their orders were secret and scarce, and she had much trouble even knowing where to begin. The reed snapped in half and she dropped it.
“Are you apprehensive about this?”
“No,” Amis said after a long moment, “As much as I shoul’ be, this dinnae scare me. It feels right if anythin’.”
The stranger was silent, waiting for her to continue.
“It’s jus’- It’s ‘ard, y’know? I guess I am scared.” She gazed into his eyes, and saw nothing but compassion, understanding and a deep strength that lay within. Amis wasn’t sure she understood entirely, but a part of him seemed very assured. He smiled.
“Does it feel right, Amis? That is what matters.”
A wolf howled softly in the far distance. Amis gazed in the direction of the sound, briefly. She concentrated, sighing and brushing a hand down the back of her head. The answer, even through the anxiety was clear as sunlight against a barren blue sky.
“Aye, more than anythin’ it does,” Amis looked at him, burning passion in her eyes. “Heresy or nay, it wouldnae feel like I was myself if I walked away now.”
“Then it’s settled.” He rose to his feet and pulled the cowl over his head, splashing a bucket of water onto the fire. The liquid fell upon the burning pyre with a hiss, and smoke rose from the embers. The wisps, if Amis looked hard enough, seemed to form themselves into the shape of a phoenix once again, before dissipating into nothingness.
Arrik began to walk and beckoned her to come along. They began to trot towards the ruins of the once great temple to Arrik. Two days out from the edges of Cear, and likely forgotten amidst the mountains, the ruins were a sacred hideaway for those of the faith.
When they approached the ruins, they walked around one of the remaining stone slab walls, towards a small portion of grass that seemed ill-laid compared to the others. With a wave of his hand, Arrik lifted the grass as though it had a handle-grip upon its top, revealing a trapdoor below.
“Come, I will instruct you, now.” Arrik said.
“Instruct me?” Amis asked.
“Yes. I will show you the ways of our faith, and in that, you will become one with him.”
The door closed above them. The dim torchlight from below disappeared with the pair, leaving only that spot of grass and the quietness of the ruins above.
The pair sat on logs opposite one another as a roaring fire burned between the pair. Time had seemed to slow, and the forests encircled them like black accents against a violet night. This was her moment.
Amis wondered whether this man was loyal to imperial creed, or a turncoat. Ultimately, she decided it did not concern her. War between nations of old and new had never been a part of her, and it seemed so miniscule that even Varana paid little attention anymore. What did matter was that Tyrak, Girru, had called her here, and they were brother and sister in faith, if not nation.
“Why did he choose me,” Amis asked “and not someone else?”
“Some come to Tyrak, or Girru, and others are chosen,” Arrik said, “In the latter case, it’s not a matter of what faith you may have lacked or were filled with. You simply were picked.”
Amis narrowed her eyes, twirling a small, plucked reed in between her thumb and forefinger. Uncle had been the one with faith, not her. Tharon, not Tyrak, had been with her family for years. In her brother’s case, she had learned that it was Ch’thia he had come to worship. Their orders were secret and scarce, and she had much trouble even knowing where to begin. The reed snapped in half and she dropped it.
“Are you apprehensive about this?”
“No,” Amis said after a long moment, “As much as I shoul’ be, this dinnae scare me. It feels right if anythin’.”
The stranger was silent, waiting for her to continue.
“It’s jus’- It’s ‘ard, y’know? I guess I am scared.” She gazed into his eyes, and saw nothing but compassion, understanding and a deep strength that lay within. Amis wasn’t sure she understood entirely, but a part of him seemed very assured. He smiled.
“Does it feel right, Amis? That is what matters.”
A wolf howled softly in the far distance. Amis gazed in the direction of the sound, briefly. She concentrated, sighing and brushing a hand down the back of her head. The answer, even through the anxiety was clear as sunlight against a barren blue sky.
“Aye, more than anythin’ it does,” Amis looked at him, burning passion in her eyes. “Heresy or nay, it wouldnae feel like I was myself if I walked away now.”
“Then it’s settled.” He rose to his feet and pulled the cowl over his head, splashing a bucket of water onto the fire. The liquid fell upon the burning pyre with a hiss, and smoke rose from the embers. The wisps, if Amis looked hard enough, seemed to form themselves into the shape of a phoenix once again, before dissipating into nothingness.
Arrik began to walk and beckoned her to come along. They began to trot towards the ruins of the once great temple to Arrik. Two days out from the edges of Cear, and likely forgotten amidst the mountains, the ruins were a sacred hideaway for those of the faith.
When they approached the ruins, they walked around one of the remaining stone slab walls, towards a small portion of grass that seemed ill-laid compared to the others. With a wave of his hand, Arrik lifted the grass as though it had a handle-grip upon its top, revealing a trapdoor below.
“Come, I will instruct you, now.” Arrik said.
“Instruct me?” Amis asked.
“Yes. I will show you the ways of our faith, and in that, you will become one with him.”
The door closed above them. The dim torchlight from below disappeared with the pair, leaving only that spot of grass and the quietness of the ruins above.
-
Nathen Arnes
- Dasarian Hero
- Posts: 614
- Joined: Thu Feb 14, 2008 7:48 am
- Main Player Character: Vick Datson
- Other PCs: Vin Blackwater
Zach Banski
Alchfrid Datson - Location: Carbondale, IL
Re: Embers
I like your writing, good adjectives. Especially when it comes to scenery, I think. 
|||Vick Datson|||
|||Beckett Lebeau|||
|||Beckett Lebeau|||
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StormRunner
- Dasarian Hero
- Posts: 704
- Joined: Tue Oct 03, 2006 7:43 pm
- Location: Brocation?!
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Will
- Dasarian Hero
- Posts: 1251
- Joined: Sat Sep 23, 2006 4:38 am
- Main Player Character: William Dearborn
- Other PCs: Ganrai
- Location: At A Crossroads
Re: Embers
It's beautiful storytelling, so beautiful, and I know it is only a start.
The dialogue and descriptions feel so familiar to read.
The dialogue and descriptions feel so familiar to read.
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vastgoten
- Dasarian Hero
- Posts: 1994
- Joined: Mon May 05, 2008 7:08 pm
- Main Player Character: Father Marrent Arghivius
Re: Embers
"Come, I will instruct you, now.” Arrik said.
“Instruct me?” Amis asked.
“Yes. I will show you the ways of our faith, and in that, you will become one with him.”
The door closed above them. The dim torchlight from below disappeared with the pair, leaving only that spot of grass and the quietness of the ruins above.
NOOOO! Not another one falling from the righteous path! Come back! Come back!
