Star Ring’d Childe
Feb 26, 2022 12:06:39 GMT
Celina Zabinski, Velania Kalugina, and 3 more like this
Post by Orianna Èirigh on Feb 26, 2022 12:06:39 GMT
“Orianna, wait!”
The young tiefling woman turns around only to get barrelled over by a young crystal dragonborn’s tackling embrace. The two laugh in the roots of an ironwood tree, Orianna’s tail curling around her cousin to hold her closer.
“And here I thought you weren’t going to say good-bye,” she says, laughter brightening her words.
“I’ve not come to say good-bye. You are coming back,” Nimuel insists, her tone a little too forceful.
The smile freezes on Orianna’s face. “Nim, you know that is not certain. Many who leave never-”
“Ah-pep-pep-pep! You know how much I dislike that word,” her cousin interrupts, putting a shushing finger over Orianna’s lips. She sits up, looking up at her mother, whose face is a stoic mask. “What? Uncle Thaneni came back, with a husband and daughter in tow, I might add. How many of the Watch saw that coming, hmm?” Nimuel places her hands on Orianna’s shoulders. “Never say ‘never’ okay?”
“So you can use the word and I cannot?” Orianna asks teasingly.
“That’s not the point and you know it!” Nim heaves a sigh as she stands up, putting her hands on her hips. Her dark robes of her calling are dusted with soil from their fall in the dirt but she doesn’t make a move to brush it away. “Fine. I guess I will keep hold of my gift, thus guaranteeing your return because it would be very mean of you to never come back.”
“Nimuel,” her mother finally says. Just the tone of her voice as she only says her name makes the other girl stand up straighter, before she catches herself and tries not to roll her eyes. “Orianna doesn’t have time for your dithering. You know this.”
“I do. I just-” She breaks off and her whole mood changes. “It’s… It’s not fair!” Nimuel exclaims, tears welling in her eyes.
And there it was. The mammoth in the chamber. The reason why she was leaving the only home she knew to follow the path the stars said was hers alone to walk.
The first time Orianna had seen it in the heavens she had been excited, but it was quickly replaced with dread. Barely an adult, only five years of study in the Grand Archive under her proverbial belt, she had kept the secret as long as she could, hoping, wishing, praying to the Cosmos that none of the Watch would see it too.
But of course they had.
When the Sayers of the Watch came to tell her, Orianna tried to act surprised but Aunt Maia’s keen dragon eyes had always been able to read her like a book. She had been disappointed that Orianna had kept the secret she divined from the stars to herself and not said anything sooner, as is the way of their people. It was how they have survived over the centuries. But even as she had given Orianna a look of intense censure, there had also been a hint of worry when Aunt Maia told the Sayers she would help prepare her niece to leave Ashkha. Orianna tried to ask what was wrong when the Sayers had left but her aunt’s stoic mask fell into place.
“Return to your studies. You don’t have much time before you will leave.”
Orianna stands up from the roots and looks at her aunt now. The hard mask of her gem scaled features has always been a puzzle the young tiefling loved to study, imagining what her father might have looked like, finding him in the curve of her aunt’s brow or the firm line of her lips. It might have been a trick of the reflected light in the Orchards, but Orianna thought she saw the same troubled look in her eyes again.
Since she had been Seen by the Watch, Orianna had been barred from joining the others in the Observatory. The reason her aunt gave her was because Orianna needed time to prepare for the outside world. Extra hours in the Grand Archive, more scrolls for her to copy over to her journal, and she must finish her star map. That above everything needed to be completed. But Orianna began to grow suspicious of what the Watch were trying to divine from the stars. She and Nim had tried to spy on her Aunt and Uncle, to hear what their elders were whispering about in hushed voices. Something grave, mentions of old magic being awakened and used across the desert. Orianna wanted to help, and though she could have climbed up to the sands and observed the stars at night on the dunes, it was dangerous to go alone. The wards kept them safe but the desert is a hungry place.
Orianna’s stomach started twisting into knots.
“Please, Auntie…”
Her aunt sighs. “Fine.” Orianna smiles but a single clawed finger is held up in warning. “But do not tarry long.”
She nods, understanding the implied meaning. Picking up her Cradle, Orianna carefully rests it against the trunk of the ironwood tree. Brushing off some of the dirt that had gotten onto her Archivists uniform – Nim might not mind the dirt but as a Second Assistant Archivist, dirt isn’t something one wants to trek around everywhere, especially when working with old scrolls and ancient tomes – she straightens up and smiles down at Nimuel, who is brushing at her eyes.
“She can be so cold sometimes,” her cousin mumbles, shooting her mother a glare.
“That doesn’t mean she doesn’t care,” Orianna counters softly. She takes a small step closer to her cousin. “You said you have a gift. Will you show it to me?”
Nim goes still. That’s when Orianna notices her right hand has been balled into a loose fist, clearly holding something inside it protectively.
“It’s nothing fancy but I thought it could be something to make sure you won’t forget about us. So you don’t… forget about me.”
Orianna’s eyes widen as her cousin opens her hand. Resting in her palm was a single earring with one small, perfectly spherical lapis lazuli stone and another, slightly larger carnelian stone. Attached to the two stones are three feathers, one of blue, one of green and one of orangey yellow. Orianna carefully picks it up between her fingers, admiring it with heartbreaking awe.
“Oh, Nim it’s… beautiful…”
“I wanted to give it to you on your birthday but you won’t be here so… Happy early birthday, I guess.”
Tears sting the corners of her eyes. The weight of everything, of leaving her home – Ashkha – of saying good-bye to her best friend and cousin – Nimuel – and of possibly losing the only family she has left – her Aunt Maia and Uncle Banefre – rises up to swallow her whole. Despite seeing the secret in the stars, no matter how many times Orianna had tried to make sense of it, the path only showed her leaving, not what came afterwards. Orianna wasn’t scared of death. It is part of the cycle. There are places after passing that Ashkha told them would be waiting for them – endless fields where their loved ones lived in harmony with all their ancestors – and their bodies would remain behind, protected from undeath by the She Who Holds a Thousand Souls.
Orianna was not scared of death.
She was scared of regret – of the ‘what if’.
What if I never see Nimuel again?
“Will you put it on for me?” she suddenly asks, bending her goat-like legs to be eye level with her cousin. Nimuel silently nods.
“It is time.”
Aunt Maia had come up behind them. Behind her is the rest of the Seven Day Watch. Nimuel, disregarding her mother’s serious tone, gives Orianna another quick, tight embrace.
“Promise you’ll remember me?” Nim mumbles into her neck.
Orianna holds her close. “I will, always.”
Then she lets go, stepping back as her aunt comes toward her. Orianna holds onto Nim as long as she can but eventually their clasped hands part and the space between their reaching fingers grows larger with each step she takes away from her cousin. She gathers her pack and picks up her Cradle. The crescent star map shimmers as a beam of reflected sunlight hits it, projecting its starry patterns across the massive ironwood tree that is the heart of Medteten’s Orchards.
Taking that as a sign, her aunt steps forward and lays a hand on the wide trunk. The branches begin to sway, creating a soft rustling sound that reverberates over the other blossoming trees. Lavender purple and white petals spiral down, brushing Orianna’s cheeks, kissing her good-bye. As one, the Seers and Sayers of the Watch lift their heads up and turn their palms forward as they softly begin chanting in an ancient, primordial tongue. Hearing their soft chorus makes the hairs on Orianna’s arms rise up, her own power stirring in her veins. She tries to quell the fluttering of her nerves as her aunt turns back to look at her, the silent question in her eyes.
With one last glance back to Nim, Orianna smiles, touching the feathers of the earring. Then she takes a breath, looks back to her aunt and, voice as steady as she can make it, Orianna says, “I am ready.”
The young tiefling woman turns around only to get barrelled over by a young crystal dragonborn’s tackling embrace. The two laugh in the roots of an ironwood tree, Orianna’s tail curling around her cousin to hold her closer.
“And here I thought you weren’t going to say good-bye,” she says, laughter brightening her words.
“I’ve not come to say good-bye. You are coming back,” Nimuel insists, her tone a little too forceful.
The smile freezes on Orianna’s face. “Nim, you know that is not certain. Many who leave never-”
“Ah-pep-pep-pep! You know how much I dislike that word,” her cousin interrupts, putting a shushing finger over Orianna’s lips. She sits up, looking up at her mother, whose face is a stoic mask. “What? Uncle Thaneni came back, with a husband and daughter in tow, I might add. How many of the Watch saw that coming, hmm?” Nimuel places her hands on Orianna’s shoulders. “Never say ‘never’ okay?”
“So you can use the word and I cannot?” Orianna asks teasingly.
“That’s not the point and you know it!” Nim heaves a sigh as she stands up, putting her hands on her hips. Her dark robes of her calling are dusted with soil from their fall in the dirt but she doesn’t make a move to brush it away. “Fine. I guess I will keep hold of my gift, thus guaranteeing your return because it would be very mean of you to never come back.”
“Nimuel,” her mother finally says. Just the tone of her voice as she only says her name makes the other girl stand up straighter, before she catches herself and tries not to roll her eyes. “Orianna doesn’t have time for your dithering. You know this.”
“I do. I just-” She breaks off and her whole mood changes. “It’s… It’s not fair!” Nimuel exclaims, tears welling in her eyes.
And there it was. The mammoth in the chamber. The reason why she was leaving the only home she knew to follow the path the stars said was hers alone to walk.
The first time Orianna had seen it in the heavens she had been excited, but it was quickly replaced with dread. Barely an adult, only five years of study in the Grand Archive under her proverbial belt, she had kept the secret as long as she could, hoping, wishing, praying to the Cosmos that none of the Watch would see it too.
But of course they had.
When the Sayers of the Watch came to tell her, Orianna tried to act surprised but Aunt Maia’s keen dragon eyes had always been able to read her like a book. She had been disappointed that Orianna had kept the secret she divined from the stars to herself and not said anything sooner, as is the way of their people. It was how they have survived over the centuries. But even as she had given Orianna a look of intense censure, there had also been a hint of worry when Aunt Maia told the Sayers she would help prepare her niece to leave Ashkha. Orianna tried to ask what was wrong when the Sayers had left but her aunt’s stoic mask fell into place.
“Return to your studies. You don’t have much time before you will leave.”
Orianna stands up from the roots and looks at her aunt now. The hard mask of her gem scaled features has always been a puzzle the young tiefling loved to study, imagining what her father might have looked like, finding him in the curve of her aunt’s brow or the firm line of her lips. It might have been a trick of the reflected light in the Orchards, but Orianna thought she saw the same troubled look in her eyes again.
Since she had been Seen by the Watch, Orianna had been barred from joining the others in the Observatory. The reason her aunt gave her was because Orianna needed time to prepare for the outside world. Extra hours in the Grand Archive, more scrolls for her to copy over to her journal, and she must finish her star map. That above everything needed to be completed. But Orianna began to grow suspicious of what the Watch were trying to divine from the stars. She and Nim had tried to spy on her Aunt and Uncle, to hear what their elders were whispering about in hushed voices. Something grave, mentions of old magic being awakened and used across the desert. Orianna wanted to help, and though she could have climbed up to the sands and observed the stars at night on the dunes, it was dangerous to go alone. The wards kept them safe but the desert is a hungry place.
Orianna’s stomach started twisting into knots.
“Please, Auntie…”
Her aunt sighs. “Fine.” Orianna smiles but a single clawed finger is held up in warning. “But do not tarry long.”
She nods, understanding the implied meaning. Picking up her Cradle, Orianna carefully rests it against the trunk of the ironwood tree. Brushing off some of the dirt that had gotten onto her Archivists uniform – Nim might not mind the dirt but as a Second Assistant Archivist, dirt isn’t something one wants to trek around everywhere, especially when working with old scrolls and ancient tomes – she straightens up and smiles down at Nimuel, who is brushing at her eyes.
“She can be so cold sometimes,” her cousin mumbles, shooting her mother a glare.
“That doesn’t mean she doesn’t care,” Orianna counters softly. She takes a small step closer to her cousin. “You said you have a gift. Will you show it to me?”
Nim goes still. That’s when Orianna notices her right hand has been balled into a loose fist, clearly holding something inside it protectively.
“It’s nothing fancy but I thought it could be something to make sure you won’t forget about us. So you don’t… forget about me.”
Orianna’s eyes widen as her cousin opens her hand. Resting in her palm was a single earring with one small, perfectly spherical lapis lazuli stone and another, slightly larger carnelian stone. Attached to the two stones are three feathers, one of blue, one of green and one of orangey yellow. Orianna carefully picks it up between her fingers, admiring it with heartbreaking awe.
“Oh, Nim it’s… beautiful…”
“I wanted to give it to you on your birthday but you won’t be here so… Happy early birthday, I guess.”
Tears sting the corners of her eyes. The weight of everything, of leaving her home – Ashkha – of saying good-bye to her best friend and cousin – Nimuel – and of possibly losing the only family she has left – her Aunt Maia and Uncle Banefre – rises up to swallow her whole. Despite seeing the secret in the stars, no matter how many times Orianna had tried to make sense of it, the path only showed her leaving, not what came afterwards. Orianna wasn’t scared of death. It is part of the cycle. There are places after passing that Ashkha told them would be waiting for them – endless fields where their loved ones lived in harmony with all their ancestors – and their bodies would remain behind, protected from undeath by the She Who Holds a Thousand Souls.
Orianna was not scared of death.
She was scared of regret – of the ‘what if’.
What if I never see Nimuel again?
“Will you put it on for me?” she suddenly asks, bending her goat-like legs to be eye level with her cousin. Nimuel silently nods.
“It is time.”
Aunt Maia had come up behind them. Behind her is the rest of the Seven Day Watch. Nimuel, disregarding her mother’s serious tone, gives Orianna another quick, tight embrace.
“Promise you’ll remember me?” Nim mumbles into her neck.
Orianna holds her close. “I will, always.”
Then she lets go, stepping back as her aunt comes toward her. Orianna holds onto Nim as long as she can but eventually their clasped hands part and the space between their reaching fingers grows larger with each step she takes away from her cousin. She gathers her pack and picks up her Cradle. The crescent star map shimmers as a beam of reflected sunlight hits it, projecting its starry patterns across the massive ironwood tree that is the heart of Medteten’s Orchards.
Taking that as a sign, her aunt steps forward and lays a hand on the wide trunk. The branches begin to sway, creating a soft rustling sound that reverberates over the other blossoming trees. Lavender purple and white petals spiral down, brushing Orianna’s cheeks, kissing her good-bye. As one, the Seers and Sayers of the Watch lift their heads up and turn their palms forward as they softly begin chanting in an ancient, primordial tongue. Hearing their soft chorus makes the hairs on Orianna’s arms rise up, her own power stirring in her veins. She tries to quell the fluttering of her nerves as her aunt turns back to look at her, the silent question in her eyes.
With one last glance back to Nim, Orianna smiles, touching the feathers of the earring. Then she takes a breath, looks back to her aunt and, voice as steady as she can make it, Orianna says, “I am ready.”
Aunt Maia nods. She says an ancient word pulled from the Weave and a swirling vortex of stars opens on the tree’s trunk. Without waiting, Orianna steps into the void, leaving all she has ever known, all she has ever loved, and steps out into the unknown.
