The untamed wilderness of Melrath is vast and encompasses frigid mountain ranges, glacial fields, deep alpine lakes, dark ancient forests as well as the expansive shoreline of the nation. Here creatures and spirits dwell together in the remote places of the world, far from the hustle and bustle of civilization.
Eihr stood just outside the gates of Raelia. He had exited the city, and as he waited for Navyri he rechecked the bag of supplies that he had prepared for their meeting.
The supplies he had managed to scrape together were meager, no doubt, and of poor quality; but they were a distraction from troubling matters- such as that he was a poor man who had willingly exited the city, and that he was going to be tortured. And so Eihr checked the supplies, disregarding the fact that they did not require rechecking.
He had left most of Hart's belongings at the bakery; within his bag were the essentials, he thought, for the meeting totrial.
There was rope, to be used as a restraint; the waterskin, filled with clean water, and a bar of soap for washing wounds; scraps of torn cloth to be used as bandages; the tinderbox, for fire; a small knife to be heated for cauterizations; and ground charcoal from Greta's fireplace, to consume in the event that he was poisoned.
Additionally there were the many cheap, medicinal herbs, solutions, and salves he had purchased early that morning -because he had not been able to sleep and the herbalist stall operated at late hours- from Greta's grandaunt, Mama Gee.
He understood, when he returned to the bakery, that both Mama Gee and Greta would be waiting to interrogate him about where he had been and why he had purchased what he had.
He did not think Greta would be happy for him to be tortured. But if she asked, what was he to say? He went through the supplies yet again, his hands idly touching upon bags of herbs, bottles of disinfectants and solutions, the knife, the rope.
Then he closed the bag of supplies and stood simply where he was.
Eihr stood for a minute, or ninety; he was a poor judge of time. He brooded as he waited, on the nerves that were twisting his stomach to knots. He noted with vague frustration that his heart was beating uncomfortably with fear, and his breath was somewhat fast.
He refused to let anxiety and anticipation of pain have the better of him.
He was in control of himself.
He was.
With a shaky exhalation, he went again through the supplies.
OOC:
-1wp for 1 season's worth of poor-quality medicine. RIP Navyri's 500gn.
I am terrified by this dark thing
That sleeps in me;
46th of Vhalar, 719
“There you are,” Eihr was alone, and then he wasn’t, Navyri’s arrival silent outside of the cold rush of wind and the sound of her boots landing in the snow, “You look nervous,” she commented, her wings still opened from flight. Although he couldn’t see her, her hair was windswept, partially tied up and dark kohl lined her eyes, giving her a sort of brutal appearance, “I hope you haven’t changed your mind already. What’s that?"
Blue eyes peered at the bag, interested. He had been fiddling with it when she circled over head and again right before she landed. From the shape and size, it looked like supplies, although she remained cautious for good measure, “You didn’t have to bring anything, you know.”
Eihr would hear her hand pat a bag of her own, slung across her torso, its strap nestled itself between her breasts, “May I?” Navyri craned her neck to try and get a look, undeniably curious as to what he expected. She had a feeling their first session together might prove to be a bit lack luster. Navyri had every intention to test his limits, but any stick would break under too much pressure. If he would let her, she would move closer, silently observing the collection.
She hummed and then drew back, “There’s an old hunter’s cottage north of here. I’ve flown by it a number of times but it looks abandoned. My guess is that whoever owned it died, or has left Melrath. Either way, it’s ideal for what we’re looking for.”
A secure building unlikely to draw attention and so far out, no one was likely to interrupt her administrations, “Now, we have two options,” Navyri crossed her arms and eyed the woods, wondering how long it would take get there with a blind man, “You can walk, or we can fly. I’d prefer the second option. It’s quicker and a lot more interesting. Downside is… well, you’d have to take my hand and trust I wouldn’t drop you.”
All day I feel its soft, feathery turnings, its malignity.
word count: 376
"At last. It has been too long since I have walked the face of this world. Too long have I been locked there, awaiting my champion to release me. My champion... This is you, daughter of Audrae. You have, whether knowingly or not, released me from my self imprisonment, and are here to fulfill the destiny I have seen written in the tapestry of nature. You, daughter of Audrae's daughter, will be my foothold in this world." - Belaera to The Nightingale, after the 600 arc imprisonment
"You look nervous," Navyri said from beside him, and Eihr nearly leapt from his skin. The wind had picked up, and then it was gone.
Amongst the wind he had not heard Navyri's arrival.
"You surprised me," Eihr said, not talking to her directly but rather to the area around him. He was not able to see where she was because of the snow.
To the statement that he looked nervous, he said, "I am nervous. The last man you tortured died."
His stomach twisted at the words, and Eihr let out a breath.
Navyri had asked a question, What's that? and Eihr knotted his brow. Even without the snow he would not have been able to see what she was looking or gesturing at; he had to interpret what she meant. But, with the bag slung over his shoulder, it was not difficult to understand.
"Supplies," he said. Navyri asked about them, and so Eihr went through them- again. He did not explain what he had in detail, merely touched upon the different items as he had prior to her arrival. She would be able to see for herself what he had, and why.
"I do not understand what you have planned," he said by way of explanation.
He let out another nervous breath.
The location she proposed would do well for their purposes; and she proposed flying there. He had been about to inquire how it was that she had arrived here so suddenly, and if she had meant to surprise him. But now he understood.
To the options she offered, he said, "I would like to fly."
He had not thought he would be given the opportunity.
Flying was something that was different than anything Hart had experienced. Hart had never flown. Thus, it would be an experience that was Eihr's fully. His. Suddenly his heart was thrumming, and whether it was in excitement or nervousness, he did not know. But his expression was light.
He held out a hand to Navyri, and -when he felt her hand- he instead grasped her by the forearm.
If she required an explanation, he would provide it. If she did not ask, he would not explain. His wrists were damaged- they were Fractured like his eyes, and if Navyri held his hand or hands as they flew, his weight would be put on his wrists. Because of the Fractures, his wrists were prone to injury. But if she held his forearm, his weight would be put on his elbow or his shoulder. Or so he reasoned.
Eihr was willing to try.
"What do I have to do?" he asked. Whatever was required, he would do without question.
I am terrified by this dark thing
That sleeps in me;
46th of Vhalar, 719
“That's true. But you are here now, are you not?"
She waited, arm out while his cold fingers touched hers and then traced higher, wrapping around her covered wrist. Navyri searched Eihr’s face, the new expression that had taken over and remained silent. There was a sort of eagerness in his body language, pushing past his distaste and distrust of her to risk a chance at the experience, “I won’t be able to carry you for long, so you must hold tight. We will be flying fast.” Her body shifted, boots crunching in snow as her voice took on a soft, soothing quality, “You’re going to feel light. Just relax.”
Navyri reached out, the back of her forefinger brushing over Eihr’s flushed cheek, pulling away as the magic began its work. With a hum, she gripped his bicep and spread her wings, a warmth beginning to slither through the Mortalborn’s body, through his face and down his neck. Across his chest to the ends of each appendage. Warm and light, so light, he began to float with shoes barely touching the ground, threatened to blow away from every gust of wind. Only held in place by the weight of his clothes and bag. Eihr, for the first time, was relieved of gravity’s damnation and for now, his joints were given relief, “You will not fall,” she promised among the first great beat of her wings, building the wind they needed, their bodies side by side.
She had never flown with another, but with Tarouz, he would be as weightless as a feather. Jumping, Eihr went with her and the strength of her wings brought them higher into the sky, the encumbrance of the world fading away. Perhaps he would see the colors beneath them as she picked up speed - the pure whites, the rich evergreen of pine and the slope of slate mountains in the distance. Wind wrapped around their bodies, blowing his hair back and billowing the fabric of his jacket. Navyri leaned her head back and relaxed, almost forgetting her passenger for a brief trill.
They glided for a moment beneath the clouds and she watched him from the corner of her eye, craning her wing as they sloped to the right. “It’s different, isn’t it?” she was smiling, and began to fly faster, as fast as she could, raising their altitude to better suit the trial’s currents, as she scanned Idalos for their destination. From their vantage point, Navyri could see the snake of blue rivers and took a deep breath of fresh air. There was a peace so high up, away from the chaos of Idalos. Wouldn’t he agree? Navri climbed higher, breaking through clouds that damped their clothes and chilled them, until they were surrounded by blue and cotton flooring. The suns, unhindered by any overcast shown brilliantly, kissing their face like a welcome lover.
“Give me your bag,” she instructed, beating her wings to keep them stable, “I want to show you something.”
Trying not to be impatient, Navyri slipped it over her free arm and grabbed his palm pulling his touch away from her arm. She still held him, but pushed his body further away, unlacing her touch until she only held him by the fingertips.
And then she let go, the Mortalborn stayed suspended above the clouds. Just as she predicted. As light as a feather.
“Eihr, you’re flying,” she praised, watching him the way one watched a child take their first steps. He drifted weightlessly and she made sure to stay close should he need her, “What do you think? Do you like it?”
All day I feel its soft, feathery turnings, its malignity.
word count: 640
"At last. It has been too long since I have walked the face of this world. Too long have I been locked there, awaiting my champion to release me. My champion... This is you, daughter of Audrae. You have, whether knowingly or not, released me from my self imprisonment, and are here to fulfill the destiny I have seen written in the tapestry of nature. You, daughter of Audrae's daughter, will be my foothold in this world." - Belaera to The Nightingale, after the 600 arc imprisonment
He was not expecting the brush of her hand against his cheek; nor the feeling that came over him when he felt it. He felt- warm.
He had thought it through; he had determined that his weight would be put on his arms, and that it might hurt him. But he had been wrong. The warmth took the nervousness from him like a gasped breath; the knots unraveled in his stomach. The pain left his joints, it left him, and he was- light. Navyri's wings drummed, gathering rhythm, and he grasped her arm just as she grasped his.
And then she leapt!
and the wind rose to meet them. But though he felt the wind, there was no feeling of resistance. The wind did not have dominion over him, not in this.
Navyri did.
He did not see the colors that Navyri saw as they flew; he did not see color, really. There was only the silvery light of the Fractures; light that, for the most part, blinded all else. But he heard the drum of her wings like the incandescent drum of his heart, felt the wind in his face, then the cold damp of water, and then the sun.
The sun.
It was the same as the warmth that had gone through him, lifting him up.
Eihr was not aware of how fast they were flying, nor of how high up they were. His face, flushed prior from the cold and the wind, burned now with something- some indescribable emotion.
He wanted to scream- not in fear or pain, but in joy, and exhilaration.
“Give me your bag,” Navyri told him. The bag of supplies he held was the only weight upon him, and Eihr pulled it from his shoulder. There was the brief thought that the bag might fall- and the thought did not matter in the least. He was in the sky. He gave the bag to Navyri.
And then his hand came away from her forearm and he felt her hand against his wrist, his hand, his fingertips. "Navyri-" he gasped, and there was the feeling of his stomach unraveling again, as if some part of him had come undone- as if he was no longer him.
But none of it scared him, as it might have.
And then her fingertips left his, and!
He was flying.
The scream that had wanted to leap from him rose in his chest and he laughed wildly. He spread his arms as if they were wings.
"What do you think?" Navyri asked, "Do you like it?”
Oh, Navyri liked the way that sounded. The way her gift had made him feel.
He would be feeling a lot more by the end of the day, not all of which would make him so thrilled. But as they say, what goes up, must come down.
“It’s time,” she said, sweeping forward to take his forearm and guide them once more. Together, they picked up speed and without warning, Navyri’s wings pulled against her back. A moment of relief and-
They began to free fall, full speed towards the cluster of pine trees, while the icy mist of clouds shattered against their skin. And then she opened her wings and the wing bit into them in a sudden gust that jerked at the muscles in her back with a pain that quieted to a dull ache as she glided to their destination. Navyri caught her feet beneath them and once Eihr’s boots touched the ground, she released him and his weight returned with a harsh jolt of reality, “Stay here.”
Navyri looked at the cabin and its half frozen windows. Nothing stirred inside, no sound of animal or man, but she crept up to the front door slowly and tried to peek inside. It looked clear and a few supplies left over, which would suit them well. She saw a cot, some old jars sitting on the shelves, a fireplace and a bit of wood propped beside it. There were even a few dusty books and dried herbs hanging from the ceiling. She pushed the door open and sneezed.
Pinching her nose at the stale scent, she wiped at the itch and stepped inside. Her boots made an impression on the grime, “Eihr,” she called, a sudden thrill growing inside her chest as she vanished inside and returned at the door frame with a fire poker in her hand and a paperweight in the other, “Follow my voice. Walk inside and take off your shoes.”
The sky was falling; or was it that they were falling? In the scream of the wind he need not scream himself; he laughed.
Then the sky was there again, rising abrupt into Navyri's spread wings. There was a sort of suspended silence, as they returned to the ground. Eihr did not feel them land; he was weightless.
And then he was not.
Navyri released him, and he let out a harsh breath; not in exhilaration, but at the sudden return of weight and pain. The lingering rush was not enough to hold back reality. With a deep breath and a wince, Eihr returned to- himself.
But for a moment, he tipped his face up toward the sky.
Rather than remain where he was, as Navyri had instructed, he stepped cautiously through the snow. He had a vague notion of the direction she had gone, and soon enough, his hand outstretched, he contacted the wall of the cabin.
It was wood, unfinished and coarse; he kept his hand outstretched along it as he walked the perimeter of the building. He discovered a window and, still wincing, touched a fingertip to the glass. It was frosted over; at least partially. He stopped and pressed his hands flat against it, head falling down. The cold hurt, sharp, but numb. His eyes fell shut.
Then he left the window and walked the rest of the perimeter, estimating its dimensions, his hand still touching lightly to the cabin wall.
As well as he was able to ascertain, the cabin was- small. From the size of it, it had perhaps two rooms, though perhaps only one. There was not a lot of noise surrounding it, just the touch of the wind and the pattering of snow falling from the branches of trees; it seemed that there truly was no one else around.
Eihr listened further, past the sound of Navyri calling him, for any indication of landmarks. The Vynmur, perhaps, or very distantly the city. If Navyri left him, was there any noise to indicate which way to go?
No, he thought, and went to the door.
The snow was blindingly bright, and the dark doorway of the cabin was well received by his hurting eyes. He stepped cautiously into the cabin, noting the stale smell of unused space and old smoke; the peppery feeling, in his nose, of dust and herbs. He looked over where he thought Navyri was. His eyes flickered bright silver-blue in the muted light.
Remove his shoes?
"I will remove them if you tell me why." He kept his eyes on where he thought she was, wary, and did not step within arm's reach if able. "First, however. I need these clothes, these boots, that bag." He needed them not to be ruined. "I don't have the nel for more."
