[O] We are the wind before the thunderstorm. - Printable Version +- HELOVIA || The Way to the Sun (http://helovia.com) +-- Forum: Out of Character (http://helovia.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=1) +--- Forum: Archives (http://helovia.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=11) +--- Thread: [O] We are the wind before the thunderstorm. (/showthread.php?tid=10922) |
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We are the wind before the thunderstorm. - Meraki - 11-17-2013 When I was very young, I pretended the sea was my friend. I would chase the waves from the shore, leap at them when the tide drained them away, collect the tiniest seashells I could find, then rush back when they returned and the beach was flooded with light and foam. I was a lone child in a very small island and any such pleasure was the sole reason for my existence – I would adorn myself with seaweed and hide in the pools and shallows made by the corals along our shoreline, I would spend hours at an end in the water, until my mane was matted and dry from the salt, and when I learned to fly and took to the skies, I would skim at the surface of the sea the way I saw seagulls do. It did not surprise me, then, when she was born consecrated to the river we all revered. She was of the land, natural and wild, savage and ruthless, my daughter, and so very conscientious of the caste she was born to, the caste I was inferior to: dark where I am light, all the dusk and mysteries of the river in those golden eyes I was quite helplessly in love with. Water, I heard an aged shaman say once, water is the essence of life, the soul without which we cannot exist, water and breath... Perhaps it was because of her that I was there. I felt tired; I had not flown in a long time, and my wings felt heavy, clumsy, even, which was unusual for me. I had flown quite a bit during the pregnancy, it was never that, but a land-bound daughter was limiting, to say the least, and after she disappeared… I made straight to the sea, whether by accident or some subconscious intent I could not say. The wind felt warm, warmer than usual, and it felt so good I almost lost control entirely. It was familiar in a way most things in this place were not, and so welcome I almost wept for it, which was pathetic. The sea lapped at my feet as it always did, hot as the tongue of a leopard, and the sound of laughter surprised me seconds before I realized it came from me. Gods, I needed this. I needed the sea, the heat, the sun and the utter dryness of the desert – the desert… She was born in the desert. Perhaps then – but no, why would she be here, when she could be anywhere? And, she has no wings – and more than a cursory glance at the few horses scattered around this land told well enough the sort of creature expected here. Which… wasn’t surprising, after what we found at the margins of Iunu. Ah, racism. Meraki. “I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each. RE: We are the wind before the thunderstorm. - Gaucho - 11-17-2013
RE: We are the wind before the thunderstorm. - Meraki - 11-17-2013 Of course, solitude never lasted long; for my part, I rather (guiltily) enjoyed that. He seemed kind, almost, even in spite of the incredibly dangerous snake on his antlers, and the fact he had antlers, but then, I’d seen stranger (far stranger) things in my time. So I painted a smile on my face, tried not shy back from him even though he’d shown no signs of aggression at all, quite the opposite in fact, and answered like the mature, adult young mare I was and not the small child frolicking by the sea I probably looked like. “Hi, I’m Meraki,” and I was unreasonably proud my voice didn’t tremble. It wasn’t that I was afraid, properly – but males made me uneasy, even when they were nice to me. Especially when they were nice to me, in fact. When someone’s aggressive and rough with you, you know exactly what to expect, but the nice ones… Ah well; maybe he was just nice. Maybe he was not and I would regret it, but then; how was I supposed to know? “Onni said I could stay,” I added for absolutely no reason, but then; I was a complete stranger in what was presumably his home and he did have a dangerous snake on his face, so… Also, snake. “So, um. May I?” It would only occur to me later that someone who had issues speaking simple sentences was probably annoyed by my chattiness, but, yeah. To be fair, I didn’t even notice; I was more preoccupied with the (dangerous!) snake and trying not to cringe. Meraki. “I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each. RE: We are the wind before the thunderstorm. - Gaucho - 11-18-2013
RE: We are the wind before the thunderstorm. - Meraki - 11-18-2013 Did I know about the sun god? No, of course not. I knew nothing about gods, whether they be of the sun or not; I was once – but no. I knew nothing of gods, but I did know of demons and angels and other such nameless, deadly things, and what they were capable of, and of the river and of sacrifices and the water rushing into my nostrils and my lungs, filling my world with darkness. I knew of a great many wondrous and terrible things, but gods? (Daughter, you may run, but you will come back. Don’t you realize what you were created for? The glory, the wonder of such sacrifice, such sights…) The gods, whoever they were, wherever they were, whatever they were, had never had use of me. The wings closed around me on instinct; I tried to suppress a full-body shiver, and failed. I did not step back, but it was a near thing. The snake did not quite scare me – she seemed quiet, calm even, and I was no stranger to danger – but the ghost of a memory, the touch of black scales upon my skin, slithering around my neck and – “No,” I told them, almost in a whisper and through near clenched teeth; I was a coward and a sacrifice, made to serve and little else, and it showed. Oh, but it showed, and it was hard not to see a dark shadow on every corner after – well, after. “I cannot say I have,” I had only just arrived – and, more like, fallen from a trap straight into another. I had lost the horns upon my forehead and a great many of the scars, but I carried his brand still. It was right there on my throat, visible to any who would care to look, an ornate ‘P’ cut into my skin by no mortal means – I would not doubt it cut deep into my bones, too. Further, even. It was a rip in my soul, was it not? What did I know of gods, indeed? “I know of demons,” get a hold of yourself, Meraki. “I wish I didn’t.” Meraki. “I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each. RE: We are the wind before the thunderstorm. - Gaucho - 11-23-2013
RE: We are the wind before the thunderstorm. - Meraki - 11-30-2013 Ah, to live in a world where things such as demons were unknown! “Evil things,” I told him, quiet. “Bad things. They hunt and prey on the weak, mark them and hurt them,” except him, I thought, even though I knew it was a lie. He was always there, behind me, near me – even here, I could feel his presence, though of course he was not in this same kingdom; it was the land, I thought, speaking through and to me. “Mayhap this Sun God will be kinder,” I mused. Impolite, perhaps, but such was life. I was hard pressed to trust things far more powerful than me. The snake had fallen quiet; it was beautiful, in a way, how comfortable they were with each other. I had never had such a friend, unless you considered my daughter, and she was (is) no friend of mine. I love her, for she is my daughter, but I was not so stupid as to not see she did not quite love me in return. It must be lovely, to have such a steadfast friend. “Where do you hail from, friend?” because he was not from here – I would have to be deaf, to not pick on his accent. “Not here, I can tell…” I truly hoped it was not prying to ask such a thing, but these talks of darkness and what was left behind made me uneasy, and I would take anything to forget. Meraki. “I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each. RE: We are the wind before the thunderstorm. - Gaucho - 12-06-2013
RE: We are the wind before the thunderstorm. - Meraki - 12-08-2013 “Yes, I would like that,” I answer him and forget to be afraid. He has this way around him, this aura of both exoticism and calm; for some reason, though he’s clearly a warrior through and through, muscles and strength and the rest of it, he doesn’t look like… well, like them, the sadistic types, the cruel types. I forget to be afraid of him, to be wary of the snake lying peacefully around his antlers. “Thank you sir, that is very kind of you.” Curious, how these things work. I’m sure it will not end well, not for me, at least. So I’ve hit a vein of nostalgia – it brings a smile to my face, unbidden, because I’ve been there, too. Sometimes I would stand at the shores of Nocturne and wonder about my own island paradise, which was as nameless as it was wild, as it was beautiful. I was brought up alone, me and a mother who never cared for me, but somehow, I never lacked for company. “No, I can’t say I do,” and before I know it, I’ve taken a step closer. “I, too, was born very far from here, though, many seas and many lands away from this place,” even though I know she will not be found, how could I do otherwise. “Was it in this place – Aye-shee-ah? – you earned those markings?” It’s fortunate that we horses cannot blush otherwise I’d be neon red by now. Smooth, Meraki, really smooth – but then, they are rather obvious and I’m curious. Meraki. “I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each. RE: We are the wind before the thunderstorm. - Gaucho - 12-19-2013
RE: We are the wind before the thunderstorm. - Meraki - 12-22-2013 I froze. It was quite involuntary, but the memories – we cannot escape our past quite as easily as we can escape a physical threat. The memory remains, even as physical pain fades away and the consequences heal themselves. Which is why, the moment his otherwise mellow glance turned sharp, my entire body seized and tensed up at the ready. I did not realistically think he was going to attack me in full view of anyone around, and he honestly didn’t sound the type, but a lifetime of instinct and experiences spoke louder than any reason ever could. It took every nerve in me to not draw away from his touch. Somehow, I managed, but not without a full-body shiver. When he drew back, however, I could not resist a (very) slight nip in the general direction of his nose; I wasn’t even entirely sure why I would do such a thing, and I knew it wasn’t meant for harm. Goodness knows what’s possessed me since I arrived in this place! So I swallowed once, twice, three times, and breathed out. “Yes. Sort of. It is true that the one who put that on me no longer lives.” May he rot forever. Meraki. “I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each. |