Yinamris Iathranna meets a Patron of the Arts
Oct 6, 2021 16:01:38 GMT
levuka, Queen Merla, the Sun-Blessed, and 5 more like this
Post by Yinmaris on Oct 6, 2021 16:01:38 GMT
Yinmaris, young Eladrin of the Summer Court,
seeks out the new Queen of Virtue and Virtuosity to strike up a pact…
Yinmaris sits down at a chair in the corridor outside of the Queen’s audience room nervously waiting for a meeting. His legs, not used to waiting, start to fidget as he looks upon a mirror across from him.
I might as well make sure I look my best for this, it’s my first audience with a queen. Mum and Dad are going to be so angry if I mess this up!
He gets up and looks at himself in the mirror, adjusting his clothes and the errant curl that refuses to conform to the rest of his hair, it’s defiance is on par with the most stubborn of rock trolls. Yin is so focused on fixing his damn hair he does not hear the light feet that come up behind him.
“Hello.”
Yin, hiding the slight surge of adrenaline after being surprised, turns around to see a beautiful female fey, a tentative but warm smile matching the glow of her golden skin. His eyes quickly glance up to see the errant curl once more doing what it wills.
Well, nothing I can do about that now, he thinks to himself.
“You are…” the tall fey tilts her head a little to the side as if she is listening to something. “…Yinmaris, is it? I must apologise. I was not expecting to see anyone here.” She gestures around them and the scene has somehow changed.
They were in an antechamber but now he and this fey- no, archfey are standing in a circular grove of blossoming trees. Some are pink like spring cherries, others are the yellow of fresh lemons – the air is crisp with their smell – whilst others have multi-tonal leaves of blue, purple, green and magenta. He cannot see beyond their branches, though he feels there is more past this bizarre grove. The ground they stand on is the plushest moss. It almost feels like a crime to be walking on it with his boots. Yinmaris notices the female with him is barefoot and has a moment where he thinks perhaps he should take his shoes off. Little undulating mounds here and there though make him decide not to, just in case. This is the Feywild after all, there can still be unexpected dangers lurking anywhere.
At least, he thinks it’s the Feywild.
As he is looking around, the young eladrin sees a grand keyed instrument. Vines are wrapped around it’s legs, up the sides, and propping open a large lid. Yin walks towards it, noticing a soft thrum of music in the air. When he peers in to see the pieces of padded wood at rest and none of the keys moving, he wonders if perhaps he is imagining the sound he hears. But Yin’s finely pointed ears catch a few notes of a melody, and he realises the thrum of music is actually a feeling somewhere in his chest, near his heart, trying to comfort his nerves.
“It would be impolite of me not to offer you something at least since you’ve come all this way. Would you join me for some tea?” the archfey offers warmly.
Her half skirt billows behind her as she walks towards an arrangement of large flowers grown into a pair of chaise lounges where a lovely spread of afternoon tea is waiting to be enjoyed. Large stained glass wings rest against her back, fanning out a little as she walks. Yin blinks a few times, wondering if he is seeing things as she shrinks down in size, getting closer to the tea and treats. The archfey smiles up at him, encouraging the summer eladrin to join her. She glances back and her eyes draw Yinmaris in like the ocean would sing to a sailor, the promise of opportunity and adventure just beyond the horizon; or like when the sky calls to a bird, inspiring it to tumble and dance within its vastness, with no fear of the ground so far below. A mesmerizing ring of gold near the pupil speaks of a mischief that is a telltale sign of any fey, but also reminds him of something else.
Forget-me-not flowers, he realises.
Yinmaris snaps out of staring into her eyes, blinks and smiles while walking beside yet slightly behind her. “I would love a drink. The tea smells breathtaking.” He sits down on the lounge opposite.
“My name is Merla, in case you did not know, unlike how I knew your name…” she trails off and thinks for a moment. “It’s strange, I don’t believe we have met, yet I feel like I know you, somehow.”
Yinmaris thinks for a moment, the name rings a bell but it feels distant like it rests beyond a fog of sleep, then his eyes glow a bright sunny yellow with recognition and his cheeks flush with a slight, warm golden glow.
“I’ve heard of you. You’re the Queen of the new vassal court – the Court of Harmony. It is an honour to meet you. But it’s strange I am having the same feeling yet I have only heard the stories of you and your deeds. Oh where are my manners.” He gets up from sitting on the chaise lounge, bows to Merla as though he is at Court, then returns to his seat.
Her smile turns shy for a brief moment before surging back into its former brilliance. Merla accepts his efforts and begins to pour some tea into a finely made earthenware mug. It is quite the mundane contrast to the glittering atmosphere of everything else around them, but the level of detail and craftsmanship of the cup is exquisite.
“Being called Queen is something I’m going to have to get used to. Along with everything else.” She gives a small chuckle and picks up a spoon with a blue butterfly handle, beginning to stir honey and lemon into the steaming brew. “Yinmaris… Are you perhaps the son of the Lord and Lady Iathranna of the Summer Court?” Merla places the cup in front of him with an ethereal grace that makes the simple move look like a dance.
Yinmaris gracefully picks up the cup of tea and takes a sip. As he drinks the nervousness he felt earlier drifts away and he lets out a sigh of bliss.
“Wow, that is some good tea,” he says softly. “Yes, yes I am. I’m sure they will be very happy to hear that you know of them. How are you finding being a Queen if I might ask? It looks like it is a title that suits you very well.”
Merla inclines her head gratefully. “There is a lot of responsibility, many new connections I did not have before, and an awareness of certain aspects of the Feywild I did not know of. Many new things…” She takes a sip of tea. When she exhales the air sighs in contentment with her. “But those are things for me to discover. It is you I am curious about.”
She sets her bee decorated earthenware mug down and looks directly into Yinmaris’ eyes. “Tell me what is on your mind. I can sense something, but…”
Yin’s eyes meet the Queen’s..
“Well, I have heard the stories about you and the ways of the Court of Harmony,” he begins slowly. “I don’t know exactly how to put it into words other than it speaks to me. The whole idea of finding balance, that finding one’s place in the world is a journey. I heard you are a patron of the arts and are passionate about building connections. I was wondering if you could be my patron. I’m not some gallant warrior of the Summer Court like my mother, but I’m quick. I have a passion for music and meeting new people. I could do tasks for you in the Feywilds and on the Material Plane.” He blushes in sudden realisation that in his passion he blabbered to an archfey. Yin takes a long sip of tea, embarrassed.
Merla carefully considers the young eladrin sitting before her. A part of her is aware that they are not physically in her Court – she was still in the midst of celebrations with her friends and family after all. This place feels familiar to her, but she cannot recall if she’s seen it before in the Summer Lands. And yet she feels the sturdiness of the bee and sunflower decorated mug her Papa made in her hands, and the plush, velvety softness of the moss between her toes. Merla thinks that maybe what is happening is actually something the Spirit of her Court helped her construct.
The corner of her mouth lifts slightly in wonder as she says quietly to herself, “And this weak and idle theme, no more yielding but a dream…”
The young summer eladrin gives her a curious look and she waves a dismissing hand. “’Tis nothing, just a musing. But as to what you said,” she sits up a bit straighter, “I am delighted to meet another who seems to share my passions. Your offer to do tasks for me in the Feywilds and on the Material Plane is one I will consider, should you truly wish to join my Court. Asking me to be your patron though…” A small divot appears between her brows as she thinks. “My Queen Mother did mention it would be possible for me to bless others with power. I just did not anticipate it would happen so soon.”
She gives Yinmaris another searching look, the ring of gold in her eyes getting a little brighter. “You say you have a talent for music. Play me a song on any instrument. Convince me of your passion, your drive – your Heart. If the song you play is true, then I will grant you my patronage.”
The Queen of Virtue and Virtuosity gestures behind him and Yinmaris turns around to see a whole orchestra’s worth of instruments from all across the realms have appeared behind him – and a thought crosses his mind.
This is a dream.
He studies the instruments with a discerning eye but Yin feels an emotion build within him. There is only one instrument that he can play that can convey to the Queen not only a true song but also an instrument that shows his journey.
Attached to his belt in a leather holster is his trusty flute. Classically fey in it’s design, it is an intricately simple instrument made out of a wood that turns from a bright orange to a beautifully deep blue, to a verdant green with an anodised metal gilding the flute, decorating it with a motif of leaves on branches interwoven close together that can look like flickering flames when the light catches it. Along the flute there are slight signs of wear; a slight scratch on the gilding here, a small knock on a grain of wood there.
Time to show my journey, he thinks, lifting the instrument up to his lips.
Yin starts by playing a simple song. A silent image appears beside the summer eladrin as he does, showing his younger self learning the song, then the excitement of finally getting it right for the first time. As this song comes to an end another one begins, more complex and upbeat, that blends then becomes dominant. Small images of memories flicker through the notes – playing pranks with friends whose families worked for the Iathranna household; developing feelings for a spring eladrin from a nearby forest.
Yin closes his eyes as he gets into the music. The song blends again, sadder but the melody has a fire to it showing him being sent to a school where children of the Summer Court can become knights. Images of an angry drill master and mocking students laugh at him for not being strong enough, for not being a true warrior. As the visage of a disappointed Lady Iathranna in an armoured dress gives Yin a telling off, no words are heard. A tear forms and rolls down his cheek as the memory plays out in front of him, to fall down to the moss below.
As the music changes to one of hope and passion, no illusioned images appear for this is a song of the beautiful unknown and the excitement that comes with it. As the tear soaks into the green ground a patch of forget-me-nots begin to grow from the spot. The music slowly dies down, his fingers eventually falling still, and Yinmaris opens his eyes. He to the Queen and bows deeply.
The sound of her applause echoes softly through the now quiet grove as Merla stands up, growing in size to stand seven feet tall. There’s a soft shine to her eyes even as her smile brightens her face.
“Marvelous. Yes, I see it. Your song is earnest and heartfelt, qualities I admire. Certainly attributes one ought to have when asking for my patronage. You, Yinmaris Iathranna, have this and more – so much more.”
Merla was walking towards him as she spoke, coming to a stop before the young eladrin. She crouches down to look at the forget-me-not flowers, humming the hopeful and passionate melody he had played as she gazes upon them. The blossoms turn their faces towards hers, swaying in a way that makes them almost seem alive. She gives a small giggle then straightens up, looking down at him with a more formal air.
“It is a long journey to finding who you are and where you belong. You can start off in one world and walk into another merely by passing under a tree, only to slip sideways into the next from stepping through the leaves. The people we meet help us in ways we see, and in many ways we do not.” The Queen arches an eyebrow. “Sometimes they even call us out at the most inopportune time.” She pauses. “No one is born a gallant warrior – not you, not me, not even the Queen of Summer. We are all more than one thing though, and that must never be forgotten. You can become whatever you want, whomever you want, if you are willing to try.”
She fixes him with her mesmerizing gaze and Yin feels her presence like a tempest. It is a symphony somehow held within her form, as bright and as strong as a Midsummer’s Sun, yet dappled with tender feelings of love on a wind of dazzlingly sharp steel.
“Are you willing to try, Yinmaris? Would you walk through the Realms and leave them better than when you entered, through your music or the connections you forge? Would you fight for Balance, guarding against the Dark, not shying away from its presence? Are you willing to carry our Song, letting it be the hand that guides those who are lost to find the Light again?”
Yinmaris, while captivated by the Queen’s gaze, utters two words quietly yet with complete conviction. “I am. I will make the Court proud. I will fight for Harmony, I will fight for Balance and forge connections leaving the Realms better than I found them.”
He kneels before her as he was taught to do when taking an oath. “Thank you, my Queen.” His eyes glow like a solar flare filled with hope and wonder from the Queen’s speech.
In the ecstasy of wonder Yinmaris’ head tilts as he remembers the stories of the Queen and of a place called Kantas.
“Can I ask you a question?”
The Queen nods.
“What are the other planes like? I have never left the ’Wilds before and my mother has only gone places to fight. She told me it is mostly war there. But , surely there must be more than that.” His voice goes quieter. “I hope to find more than that.”
A sun kissed tanned hand is placed on his shoulder. When Yinmaris looks up, the Queen looks like a fey-touched halfling, the fine summery dress she was wearing, gone. Instead, she is clad in a set of beautiful studded leather armour with gold metal, accentuating the curve of her form, making the armour appear more like the wings of a butterfly have wrapped themselves around her torso to protect her form. Themes of nature, music and summer are everywhere on her outfit, from the billowing sleeves of her blouse, to the tight leggings underneath her asymmetrical, high-low style cut skirt that allows for freedom of movement to dance – or to fight. A slit cape falls down her back, made from finely woven, iridescent fabric. On her brow is a golden tiara, decorated with sunflowers, forget-me-nots, wheat and cyclamen flowers. At its centre is a large imperial topaz gem that sheds a comforting glow of shifting light, almost like a sun rests in its depths. Yin wonders how he missed seeing it before.
“They are different, various, and all the more wondrous for it,” Queen Merla says, a twinkle of excitement in her eyes. “There will be places you go that will be hard for you to understand, places that will surprise you, and places you will not wish to linger. But do not let your fear of the unknown govern your choices. The oak is not strong in spite of the wind, but because of it.” Her expression gets softer as she says the words. “Find those you can call friend, the ones you can trust who will be beside you on your journey.”
Yin’s eyes twinkle with excitement. “I will. I’m not scared of the unknown, I’m excited to discover it. Do people in other realms enjoy pranks? That’s always a great way to forge friendships.” Yin smiles with fey mischief.
Queen Merla laughs. “You will have to discover that for yourself,” she says, a capricious light shining from her eyes as she winks at him. She takes her hand back from his shoulder to rest it on the rapier at her side, its silver treble clef pommel glinting in the light cast by her diadem. “Now, let us seal this pact… if you are ready.”
“I’m ready, your majesty.” Yin looks at Merla with hope and anticipation for the worlds of possibility that are about to open up for him, to make new friends, and most importantly new pranks.
The Queen nods and softly closes her eyes. Through the tall trees comes a clear, crisp sound of a trumpet as she breathes in. Then she begins to sing.
If Yin had been in awe before, what he sees as Merla begins to weave a melody together completely takes his breath away. Her small, halfling form changes into that of the archfey once more, iridescent wings reemerging as she lifts off the mossy ground. The radiance of her aura grows brighter, matching the intensity of the sun overhead. Yet it was not impossible to look at her. So full of enchantment and allure was the vision before him that he did not want to look away.
As the Queen of Virtue and Virtuosity pulls forth a mote of her power into her hands, Yinmaris realises the music he is hearing is a harmonised version of all three songs he had played before. Queen Merla is somehow singing all parts at the same time, whilst being accompanied by a spectral satyr on the grand keyed instrument. Yin tries to glance over to the piano to see who has joined them, if they are even real. But a gesture from the Queen draws his attention back to her – and his eyes widen in wonder at what she presents to him.
A beautiful, shimmering coral red amaryllis flower is cupped in her hands, upon which rests a blueish-purple dragonfly. It’s wings quiver as it balances on the petal closest to Yin, looking at him in anticipation.
“I bless you, Yinmaris Iathranna, child of the Court of Harmony, with this gift. So long as you hold true to your Word, I will be with you.” The Queen catches his eye and smiles, warmth, light and love in every pane of her achingly beautiful features.
Then she exhales a note and the dragonfly takes off, the petals of the flower scattering into a thousand shards of light that swirl around Yin. He goes to open his mouth to say something when the forget-me-not blue dragonfly lands on his forehead, its touch feeling more like a kiss, and his vision goes white.
Yin wakes up well rested, lying under a tree by a rolling Feywild meadow. A wide grin of excitement grows as he remembers the encounter with Merla and the pact. Ready for the adventure ahead, he picks up the backpack he was using as a pillow, checks his gear and goes on a wander.
After a few hours he notices the powerful colours of the Feywild fade as he crosses under a tree. Yin looks up. Rising on a hill in the disanct he sees a city he will come to know as Daring Heights.
“Ah civilization, finally,” he sighs to himself as he takes in the view while stretching. One thought blossoms as he takes this next step of his life.
Time for an adventure. What could possibly go wrong?
(Thank you Queen Merla, the Sun-Blessed for this great RP)
seeks out the new Queen of Virtue and Virtuosity to strike up a pact…
Yinmaris sits down at a chair in the corridor outside of the Queen’s audience room nervously waiting for a meeting. His legs, not used to waiting, start to fidget as he looks upon a mirror across from him.
I might as well make sure I look my best for this, it’s my first audience with a queen. Mum and Dad are going to be so angry if I mess this up!
He gets up and looks at himself in the mirror, adjusting his clothes and the errant curl that refuses to conform to the rest of his hair, it’s defiance is on par with the most stubborn of rock trolls. Yin is so focused on fixing his damn hair he does not hear the light feet that come up behind him.
“Hello.”
Yin, hiding the slight surge of adrenaline after being surprised, turns around to see a beautiful female fey, a tentative but warm smile matching the glow of her golden skin. His eyes quickly glance up to see the errant curl once more doing what it wills.
Well, nothing I can do about that now, he thinks to himself.
“You are…” the tall fey tilts her head a little to the side as if she is listening to something. “…Yinmaris, is it? I must apologise. I was not expecting to see anyone here.” She gestures around them and the scene has somehow changed.
They were in an antechamber but now he and this fey- no, archfey are standing in a circular grove of blossoming trees. Some are pink like spring cherries, others are the yellow of fresh lemons – the air is crisp with their smell – whilst others have multi-tonal leaves of blue, purple, green and magenta. He cannot see beyond their branches, though he feels there is more past this bizarre grove. The ground they stand on is the plushest moss. It almost feels like a crime to be walking on it with his boots. Yinmaris notices the female with him is barefoot and has a moment where he thinks perhaps he should take his shoes off. Little undulating mounds here and there though make him decide not to, just in case. This is the Feywild after all, there can still be unexpected dangers lurking anywhere.
At least, he thinks it’s the Feywild.
As he is looking around, the young eladrin sees a grand keyed instrument. Vines are wrapped around it’s legs, up the sides, and propping open a large lid. Yin walks towards it, noticing a soft thrum of music in the air. When he peers in to see the pieces of padded wood at rest and none of the keys moving, he wonders if perhaps he is imagining the sound he hears. But Yin’s finely pointed ears catch a few notes of a melody, and he realises the thrum of music is actually a feeling somewhere in his chest, near his heart, trying to comfort his nerves.
“It would be impolite of me not to offer you something at least since you’ve come all this way. Would you join me for some tea?” the archfey offers warmly.
Her half skirt billows behind her as she walks towards an arrangement of large flowers grown into a pair of chaise lounges where a lovely spread of afternoon tea is waiting to be enjoyed. Large stained glass wings rest against her back, fanning out a little as she walks. Yin blinks a few times, wondering if he is seeing things as she shrinks down in size, getting closer to the tea and treats. The archfey smiles up at him, encouraging the summer eladrin to join her. She glances back and her eyes draw Yinmaris in like the ocean would sing to a sailor, the promise of opportunity and adventure just beyond the horizon; or like when the sky calls to a bird, inspiring it to tumble and dance within its vastness, with no fear of the ground so far below. A mesmerizing ring of gold near the pupil speaks of a mischief that is a telltale sign of any fey, but also reminds him of something else.
Forget-me-not flowers, he realises.
Yinmaris snaps out of staring into her eyes, blinks and smiles while walking beside yet slightly behind her. “I would love a drink. The tea smells breathtaking.” He sits down on the lounge opposite.
“My name is Merla, in case you did not know, unlike how I knew your name…” she trails off and thinks for a moment. “It’s strange, I don’t believe we have met, yet I feel like I know you, somehow.”
Yinmaris thinks for a moment, the name rings a bell but it feels distant like it rests beyond a fog of sleep, then his eyes glow a bright sunny yellow with recognition and his cheeks flush with a slight, warm golden glow.
“I’ve heard of you. You’re the Queen of the new vassal court – the Court of Harmony. It is an honour to meet you. But it’s strange I am having the same feeling yet I have only heard the stories of you and your deeds. Oh where are my manners.” He gets up from sitting on the chaise lounge, bows to Merla as though he is at Court, then returns to his seat.
Her smile turns shy for a brief moment before surging back into its former brilliance. Merla accepts his efforts and begins to pour some tea into a finely made earthenware mug. It is quite the mundane contrast to the glittering atmosphere of everything else around them, but the level of detail and craftsmanship of the cup is exquisite.
“Being called Queen is something I’m going to have to get used to. Along with everything else.” She gives a small chuckle and picks up a spoon with a blue butterfly handle, beginning to stir honey and lemon into the steaming brew. “Yinmaris… Are you perhaps the son of the Lord and Lady Iathranna of the Summer Court?” Merla places the cup in front of him with an ethereal grace that makes the simple move look like a dance.
Yinmaris gracefully picks up the cup of tea and takes a sip. As he drinks the nervousness he felt earlier drifts away and he lets out a sigh of bliss.
“Wow, that is some good tea,” he says softly. “Yes, yes I am. I’m sure they will be very happy to hear that you know of them. How are you finding being a Queen if I might ask? It looks like it is a title that suits you very well.”
Merla inclines her head gratefully. “There is a lot of responsibility, many new connections I did not have before, and an awareness of certain aspects of the Feywild I did not know of. Many new things…” She takes a sip of tea. When she exhales the air sighs in contentment with her. “But those are things for me to discover. It is you I am curious about.”
She sets her bee decorated earthenware mug down and looks directly into Yinmaris’ eyes. “Tell me what is on your mind. I can sense something, but…”
Yin’s eyes meet the Queen’s..
“Well, I have heard the stories about you and the ways of the Court of Harmony,” he begins slowly. “I don’t know exactly how to put it into words other than it speaks to me. The whole idea of finding balance, that finding one’s place in the world is a journey. I heard you are a patron of the arts and are passionate about building connections. I was wondering if you could be my patron. I’m not some gallant warrior of the Summer Court like my mother, but I’m quick. I have a passion for music and meeting new people. I could do tasks for you in the Feywilds and on the Material Plane.” He blushes in sudden realisation that in his passion he blabbered to an archfey. Yin takes a long sip of tea, embarrassed.
Merla carefully considers the young eladrin sitting before her. A part of her is aware that they are not physically in her Court – she was still in the midst of celebrations with her friends and family after all. This place feels familiar to her, but she cannot recall if she’s seen it before in the Summer Lands. And yet she feels the sturdiness of the bee and sunflower decorated mug her Papa made in her hands, and the plush, velvety softness of the moss between her toes. Merla thinks that maybe what is happening is actually something the Spirit of her Court helped her construct.
The corner of her mouth lifts slightly in wonder as she says quietly to herself, “And this weak and idle theme, no more yielding but a dream…”
The young summer eladrin gives her a curious look and she waves a dismissing hand. “’Tis nothing, just a musing. But as to what you said,” she sits up a bit straighter, “I am delighted to meet another who seems to share my passions. Your offer to do tasks for me in the Feywilds and on the Material Plane is one I will consider, should you truly wish to join my Court. Asking me to be your patron though…” A small divot appears between her brows as she thinks. “My Queen Mother did mention it would be possible for me to bless others with power. I just did not anticipate it would happen so soon.”
She gives Yinmaris another searching look, the ring of gold in her eyes getting a little brighter. “You say you have a talent for music. Play me a song on any instrument. Convince me of your passion, your drive – your Heart. If the song you play is true, then I will grant you my patronage.”
The Queen of Virtue and Virtuosity gestures behind him and Yinmaris turns around to see a whole orchestra’s worth of instruments from all across the realms have appeared behind him – and a thought crosses his mind.
This is a dream.
He studies the instruments with a discerning eye but Yin feels an emotion build within him. There is only one instrument that he can play that can convey to the Queen not only a true song but also an instrument that shows his journey.
Attached to his belt in a leather holster is his trusty flute. Classically fey in it’s design, it is an intricately simple instrument made out of a wood that turns from a bright orange to a beautifully deep blue, to a verdant green with an anodised metal gilding the flute, decorating it with a motif of leaves on branches interwoven close together that can look like flickering flames when the light catches it. Along the flute there are slight signs of wear; a slight scratch on the gilding here, a small knock on a grain of wood there.
Time to show my journey, he thinks, lifting the instrument up to his lips.
Yin starts by playing a simple song. A silent image appears beside the summer eladrin as he does, showing his younger self learning the song, then the excitement of finally getting it right for the first time. As this song comes to an end another one begins, more complex and upbeat, that blends then becomes dominant. Small images of memories flicker through the notes – playing pranks with friends whose families worked for the Iathranna household; developing feelings for a spring eladrin from a nearby forest.
Yin closes his eyes as he gets into the music. The song blends again, sadder but the melody has a fire to it showing him being sent to a school where children of the Summer Court can become knights. Images of an angry drill master and mocking students laugh at him for not being strong enough, for not being a true warrior. As the visage of a disappointed Lady Iathranna in an armoured dress gives Yin a telling off, no words are heard. A tear forms and rolls down his cheek as the memory plays out in front of him, to fall down to the moss below.
As the music changes to one of hope and passion, no illusioned images appear for this is a song of the beautiful unknown and the excitement that comes with it. As the tear soaks into the green ground a patch of forget-me-nots begin to grow from the spot. The music slowly dies down, his fingers eventually falling still, and Yinmaris opens his eyes. He to the Queen and bows deeply.
The sound of her applause echoes softly through the now quiet grove as Merla stands up, growing in size to stand seven feet tall. There’s a soft shine to her eyes even as her smile brightens her face.
“Marvelous. Yes, I see it. Your song is earnest and heartfelt, qualities I admire. Certainly attributes one ought to have when asking for my patronage. You, Yinmaris Iathranna, have this and more – so much more.”
Merla was walking towards him as she spoke, coming to a stop before the young eladrin. She crouches down to look at the forget-me-not flowers, humming the hopeful and passionate melody he had played as she gazes upon them. The blossoms turn their faces towards hers, swaying in a way that makes them almost seem alive. She gives a small giggle then straightens up, looking down at him with a more formal air.
“It is a long journey to finding who you are and where you belong. You can start off in one world and walk into another merely by passing under a tree, only to slip sideways into the next from stepping through the leaves. The people we meet help us in ways we see, and in many ways we do not.” The Queen arches an eyebrow. “Sometimes they even call us out at the most inopportune time.” She pauses. “No one is born a gallant warrior – not you, not me, not even the Queen of Summer. We are all more than one thing though, and that must never be forgotten. You can become whatever you want, whomever you want, if you are willing to try.”
She fixes him with her mesmerizing gaze and Yin feels her presence like a tempest. It is a symphony somehow held within her form, as bright and as strong as a Midsummer’s Sun, yet dappled with tender feelings of love on a wind of dazzlingly sharp steel.
“Are you willing to try, Yinmaris? Would you walk through the Realms and leave them better than when you entered, through your music or the connections you forge? Would you fight for Balance, guarding against the Dark, not shying away from its presence? Are you willing to carry our Song, letting it be the hand that guides those who are lost to find the Light again?”
Yinmaris, while captivated by the Queen’s gaze, utters two words quietly yet with complete conviction. “I am. I will make the Court proud. I will fight for Harmony, I will fight for Balance and forge connections leaving the Realms better than I found them.”
He kneels before her as he was taught to do when taking an oath. “Thank you, my Queen.” His eyes glow like a solar flare filled with hope and wonder from the Queen’s speech.
In the ecstasy of wonder Yinmaris’ head tilts as he remembers the stories of the Queen and of a place called Kantas.
“Can I ask you a question?”
The Queen nods.
“What are the other planes like? I have never left the ’Wilds before and my mother has only gone places to fight. She told me it is mostly war there. But , surely there must be more than that.” His voice goes quieter. “I hope to find more than that.”
A sun kissed tanned hand is placed on his shoulder. When Yinmaris looks up, the Queen looks like a fey-touched halfling, the fine summery dress she was wearing, gone. Instead, she is clad in a set of beautiful studded leather armour with gold metal, accentuating the curve of her form, making the armour appear more like the wings of a butterfly have wrapped themselves around her torso to protect her form. Themes of nature, music and summer are everywhere on her outfit, from the billowing sleeves of her blouse, to the tight leggings underneath her asymmetrical, high-low style cut skirt that allows for freedom of movement to dance – or to fight. A slit cape falls down her back, made from finely woven, iridescent fabric. On her brow is a golden tiara, decorated with sunflowers, forget-me-nots, wheat and cyclamen flowers. At its centre is a large imperial topaz gem that sheds a comforting glow of shifting light, almost like a sun rests in its depths. Yin wonders how he missed seeing it before.
“They are different, various, and all the more wondrous for it,” Queen Merla says, a twinkle of excitement in her eyes. “There will be places you go that will be hard for you to understand, places that will surprise you, and places you will not wish to linger. But do not let your fear of the unknown govern your choices. The oak is not strong in spite of the wind, but because of it.” Her expression gets softer as she says the words. “Find those you can call friend, the ones you can trust who will be beside you on your journey.”
Yin’s eyes twinkle with excitement. “I will. I’m not scared of the unknown, I’m excited to discover it. Do people in other realms enjoy pranks? That’s always a great way to forge friendships.” Yin smiles with fey mischief.
Queen Merla laughs. “You will have to discover that for yourself,” she says, a capricious light shining from her eyes as she winks at him. She takes her hand back from his shoulder to rest it on the rapier at her side, its silver treble clef pommel glinting in the light cast by her diadem. “Now, let us seal this pact… if you are ready.”
“I’m ready, your majesty.” Yin looks at Merla with hope and anticipation for the worlds of possibility that are about to open up for him, to make new friends, and most importantly new pranks.
The Queen nods and softly closes her eyes. Through the tall trees comes a clear, crisp sound of a trumpet as she breathes in. Then she begins to sing.
If Yin had been in awe before, what he sees as Merla begins to weave a melody together completely takes his breath away. Her small, halfling form changes into that of the archfey once more, iridescent wings reemerging as she lifts off the mossy ground. The radiance of her aura grows brighter, matching the intensity of the sun overhead. Yet it was not impossible to look at her. So full of enchantment and allure was the vision before him that he did not want to look away.
As the Queen of Virtue and Virtuosity pulls forth a mote of her power into her hands, Yinmaris realises the music he is hearing is a harmonised version of all three songs he had played before. Queen Merla is somehow singing all parts at the same time, whilst being accompanied by a spectral satyr on the grand keyed instrument. Yin tries to glance over to the piano to see who has joined them, if they are even real. But a gesture from the Queen draws his attention back to her – and his eyes widen in wonder at what she presents to him.
A beautiful, shimmering coral red amaryllis flower is cupped in her hands, upon which rests a blueish-purple dragonfly. It’s wings quiver as it balances on the petal closest to Yin, looking at him in anticipation.
“I bless you, Yinmaris Iathranna, child of the Court of Harmony, with this gift. So long as you hold true to your Word, I will be with you.” The Queen catches his eye and smiles, warmth, light and love in every pane of her achingly beautiful features.
Then she exhales a note and the dragonfly takes off, the petals of the flower scattering into a thousand shards of light that swirl around Yin. He goes to open his mouth to say something when the forget-me-not blue dragonfly lands on his forehead, its touch feeling more like a kiss, and his vision goes white.
Yin wakes up well rested, lying under a tree by a rolling Feywild meadow. A wide grin of excitement grows as he remembers the encounter with Merla and the pact. Ready for the adventure ahead, he picks up the backpack he was using as a pillow, checks his gear and goes on a wander.
After a few hours he notices the powerful colours of the Feywild fade as he crosses under a tree. Yin looks up. Rising on a hill in the disanct he sees a city he will come to know as Daring Heights.
“Ah civilization, finally,” he sighs to himself as he takes in the view while stretching. One thought blossoms as he takes this next step of his life.
Time for an adventure. What could possibly go wrong?
(Thank you Queen Merla, the Sun-Blessed for this great RP)