1st of Vhalar, Arc 720
“Your parents’ house,” Cierne gasped. “It looks…”
“Like shit.”
“Diaval!” Diaval’s mother strode over to him and feigned slapping his hand. “Good manners means limiting your use of vulgar expressions.”
Diaval turned to Cierne and rolled his eyes so his mother couldn’t see. “I’m sorry, mom,” he said with mock sincerity.
Cierne shuffled her feet awkwardly. It was always weird when you were in the presence of your friend being punished. Especially at the age they were.
“So now you can see why we need all the help we can get,” the Biqaj explained, opening his arms in an all-encompassing way so as to dramatize the destruction that had taken place at his parents’ house.
“What about your place? Wasn’t it wrecked by the quake too?” Cierne asked with wide eyes. She observed the many things that lay scattered and broken on the hard wooden floors.
A large lantern had shattered its glass vase, the oil from inside spilling out and onto the floor. A stain would absorb into the wood soon if it hadn’t already. There was a large tear in the couch from where part of a window had been smashed and sliced into the leather. It was a shame, considering how beautiful Cierne had found the couch to be.
Several paintings of random strangers and bowls of fruit had come flying off their respective places on the walls, crashing onto the ground. A side table was flipped over, lying horizontal beside a myriad of pillows addressing the entire spectrum of styles.
“My place didn’t take too much damage, thank goodness. I guess I rolled the dice well on that, huh?” He playfully jabbed his friend in the side.
“Why are you so cheerful? Your parents' place got wrecked and we could have almost died!” Cierne muttered.
Diaval looked her square in the eyes and with all seriousness said, “but we didn’t die and that’s what matters. Of all people, I'd have expected you to be making darkly humorous jokes right about now. What’s up with you? You told me everyone at Everton’s was okay. You weren’t lying were you?”
Cierne shook her head and followed the small gesture with a shrug. She honestly wasn’t sure why she was seeming so off.
It was strange though (and perhaps it was this following notion that made Cierne as off as she was), the earth was not as loud in its calling as it had been during the first earthquake. Perhaps it was because she was still wary about her use of the magic, tending to keep a somewhat notable distance between herself and the elements. She still had a weird relationship with the earth since the last earthquake when she had overworked herself (and thought it was the element itself that hated her rather than her inexperience with the arcane).
It was less about the element and more about her. Earth was notorious for being strong, rough and stubborn. Cierne was very much the same. When two stubborn people clash, things usually didn’t run very smoothly. Maybe that’s what had happened during her first encounter bending the earth. If she were to try again…
“Earth to Cierne.” Diaval was snapping his fingers in her face. “Where did you go?” His violet eyes held a twinkle of concern.
The Naer shook her head and collected her thoughts. “Nowhere,” she smiled, walking over to the table that was still laying on its side. She lifted it back up to its rightful position before moving to pick up the pillows that littered the floor.
“Not weird at all,” Diaval murmured softly with narrowed eyes. He, too, began to help Cierne in picking up the pillows.
It was uncanny how her friend knew her so well. Sometimes it was almost like he could read her thoughts. So when he asked, ‘maybe you can use your magic to make things go faster?’ she choked on her spit in surprise.
“W-what?” She stuttered. Her question rang rhetorical as she had undoubtedly heard what he had suggested.
“C’mon, Ceer. I know you’re scared, but you’ll never be able to get back on the high horse if you don’t put the saddle on first.”
Cierne blinked, momentarily stunned by the foreign metaphor. But she paid it no more than a moments’ worth of attention. What really got her was his use of the word ‘scared’.
“I’m not scared,” she spat, looking anywhere but at him. She didn’t want to see his eyes shift in color at her sudden change in mood.
If he knew her as well as she thought he did, he shouldn’t have used such a term to explain what she was feeling! She hated thinking she could fall prey to the weaknesses of fear and like emotions even if it was inevitable.
An uncomfortable silence settled between the two of them. Diaval’s parents had long since gone to another room of the house to help spread out the repairing of damage.
Cierne couldn’t help but feel it was her responsibility to bring the joy back into the room and clear out the tension.
“I- just- I don’t know what to expect,” she said finally, throwing a plump and purple pillow onto the couch.
“That’s kind of tied to fear,” Diaval whispered, eyeing her curiously. He didn’t want her to shut down again, but he needed her to confront the emotions that were spiraling inside her.
Cierne’s cheeks blushed. He was right and damn it she hated when she was wrong and other people were right!
“Fine,” she said, tucking a stray strand of hair back behind her ear.
She could see Diaval’s large grin from out the corner of her eye. She felt his gaze follow her as she stepped through the front doors and onto the makeshift porch.
Diaval’s parents weren’t rich per se, but they did have an expensive taste, especially when it came to architecture.
They had a porch built from old wood and on the corners of the porch were stone pillars. One of the pillars had crumbled near the middle during the earth’s rattling (leaving a small gap), and this posed a great opportunity for Cierne to ‘ride the pony’ again, or however Diaval had put it.
The Naer placed her hands on part of the pillar and closed her eyes. She softly began to whisper to the stone as if it could hear her. Her whispers were encouraging, coaxing, reasoning with the material to grow and repair the empty space between the two sections of the broken structure.
Like the earth, her determination was strong, held fast to the situation at hand. She willed the earth to move using the ether that roiled within her. And soon the earth began to partake in its own roiling. The stones of the pillar started to move, rolling over one another, expanding their reach so that they covered the opening that had crumbled earlier in the day. Fortunately, the damage wasn’t too severe or else she wouldn’t have been able to complete her task; exhaustion would have set in much more quickly due to her inept ability with this particular element.
When Cierne finally opened her eyes and saw what she had accomplished, she began to laugh; it was a happy laugh, a laugh of triumph.
A short burst of pain elicited near her temples, but it required no more than a moment’s concern. She had moved the earth!
Her lips were spread thin over her white teeth as she admired her handiwork.
During her quiet whisperings, she had given the earth suggestions. In order to bridge the gap that had formed during the earthquake, in order to be met with more of its kind, the earth from one end would have to merge with the earth on the other side.
She thought of it like a relationship that needed mending, or a problem needing solving. Not too long ago she had bridged the gap to fill the awkward silence that had started to linger between her and Diaval. Applying that situation to the pillar had helped her in with her magic use; it gave her a greater understanding of relationships in general, not to mention the one she had with the stony element.
Cierne breathed a sigh of relief and turned to find Diaval watching her with wide eyes and an enormous grin on his face.
“That was amazing, Ceer!” He shouted, rushing over to examine the work she had just performed. He gently tapped the pillar with his knuckles only to find that its solid state was no illusion- just a bit of magic.
“Thank you,” the Naer said quietly. For some reason she felt modest, maybe even a little bit shy.
She had never really shown her magic to Diaval before, though she had told him about it countless times. It was nice to know that he was supportive of it unlike Meinz.
“So can you, like, control the air and pick up the rest of those pillows for us?” Diaval asked, his eyes beaming a bright green. He chuckled, his voice filling Cierne’s ears with their pleasant melody.
She would never be able to remember what the different colors of his eyes meant in reference to his moods, but understand, like anyone, that a laugh meant good things.
Cierne ran her fingers through her vibrant green hair. “I don’t know,” she said, giving the idea some thought. “I haven’t done it before.”
She smiled, feeling better about where she stood with the earth. And she even laughed at how strange that sentence sounded in her head.
“Well, I don’t want you to do anything you shouldn’t. I don’t need you hurting yourself. You still have a lot of shit to pick up.”
She punched him playfully on the shoulder and smirked. “You mean we have a lot of shit to pick up,” she corrected.
“I don’t hear cleaning!” Diaval’s mother called from back inside the house.
“Duty calls!”
x
