• Closed • A Brief Glimpse in the Mirror

[Woe]

123rd of Ashan 722

Two Arcs Ago...

Woe rarely had occasion to ride Opal anymore. While she got regular exercise from the likes of Sage, and at the Ranger's Hall in Egilrun, he more preferred to ride on Soz, his dragonling. But the nature of his trip this night was such that he had need of Opal's talent. Namely, her ability to pierce the veil, and bring Woe temporarily across space under moonlight, to a person he longed to see. Opal shook her head as Woe climbed atop her. He looked up at the moons, and wondered if it'd be overcast where Natalia was. If that'd matter? If it'd matter that he more wanted to see the place where he had instructed her to arrive at, than to see her personally. It was almost callous of him to use her in such a way, which he was shamefully aware of. Yet, she could do him a favor. She could easily have refused, could she not have? And at any rate, if she wished to refuse his arrival, she could do that as well.

So Woe concentrated on Opal, opening the way with a pang of sorrow. He recalled the memory of that night two arcs ago, when Werthom had died. And with it, he willed Opal to carry him through to the other side of the world.

She gave some resistance at first. Perhaps tetchy because of his absence, or that she was unused to him riding her in recent seasons. Woe soothed her with a caress of her neck, and whispered some encouraging sounds. This didn't immediately calm her, but after a few bits of whispering nothings to his Destiar, the steed calmed down. Enough that he could try again.

So he spurred her lightly toward the road ahead, and with a flash of moonlight, disappeared, and arrived on the road south of Etzos.

He cantered along, wondering where Natalia was in all of this. His eyes searched the darkness, well capable of seeing in the dark now thanks to Kuvarakh's effigy having awoken. The shadows wouldn't hide any secrets from his eyes.

He kept riding until he arrived at the hill where the forget-me-nots grew. They were brilliant blue in the moonlight, growing beneath the concave growth of an oak tree. Woe slid down from the saddle of his Destiar, and walked up toward the gravesite, where Werthom was buried. He knelt in front of him, staying aware of his surroundings yet couldn't help being a little lost in thought. He looked at the tree, and took out his whisperwood recorder. Moseke had granted him the ability to shape the oak anyway he wanted, should he fill the song with the appropriate emotion. He wasn't great or even good with a recorder yet. But he knew some simple notes, that he could hold. He only hoped the emotion he played into the music, came across well enough to tame the wild oak tree.

So he began playing, a low and mournful note, notes that were memorized in sequence. He did so, and filled the tree with divine ether to begin to shape it.

[Natalia Gregorios]

123 Ashan, Arc 722

Suspicious? Dubious? Outright odd? All of the above, as far as Natalia was concerned. Woe was a wild card that she couldn’t adequately read, so the meet was something of a risk. Which Woe would she find? The one that believed what others said about her over her own words? The man who had been harsh with her at the Feast? Or the one that she had met in the beginning?

Beyond all that, she felt a sense of responsibility to answer his echo message, agreeing to the meet. He had asked her to come alone, and she would honor that, but that didn’t preclude her from leaving a note for Grayson outlining the meeting and location, so if she didn’t return, he would know where to start looking.

Also, ‘alone’ didn’t mean she couldn’t be prepared. Ares was nearby in the wooded area, and Apollo would accompany her in his bag, but more than any of the rest, Natalia was bringing her secret weapon to the meeting – Renaissance.

The trials of simple acquaintance with Woe were over. Begun were the ones where she would need to question the reason for his attention. She wasn’t the same girl he had met in Egilrun or even the one he had taken to Saoire’s Feast. The harshness of Almund and Etzos had slowly seeped into her being. Natalia had far to go still, but the subtle changes were noticeable.

She made her way to the meeting spot, astride her trusted Renaissance. Natalia’s eyes were open, searching for any dangers. She didn’t like the location he had chosen for the meet, but it was too late to turn back. Had Grayson known, he wouldn’t have let her come, which was precisely why a note was left, and no one-on-one conversation occurred.

Finally, slowing to a walk, Natalia veered Renaissance off to the side of the road, having spotted Opal. Woe would be nearby, certainly. All she heard were the strains of music coming from close by, for the moment.

Following them, Natalia caught sight of Woe. She steered Renaissance in that direction but stayed on the creature as she greeted him with a neutral tone. “Hello, Woe.”

Natalia’s voice prompted movement from inside the riding bag, slung over the mortalborn’s shoulder. Apollo, all six heads of him, popped out, yawning and trilling, looking about to see what was going on. The nighttime ride had lulled him to sleep, but now it was time to see what all the fuss was about.

Template Credit: Oberan

[Woe]

123rd of Ashan 722

Werthom's grave was much as he left it, albeit with the overgrowth and forget-me-nots which had already sprung into bloom in late Ashan. Woe played a practiced tune for the tree, and as he did so a shape began to take form on its face. First, as a oblong burl along its trunk, and then becoming more defined as Woe poured more emotion into the song, trying his hand at some more complex notes and combinations of notes. He was by no means even competent with a recorder, but it was an easy instrument to learn.

As the bits wore on, Woe began to wonder if he'd hear Natalia come upon him. Perhaps she'd already mastered the arts of stealth, or had been snatched up, recruited by one faction or another. He didn't know, and probably should've kept in touch with her. That was his fault. Then again, he wasn't exactly gentle or informative in his letter to her. He didn't like pouring his heart out on paper. It left a mess. Much better to spill one's marbles in full view of the person they intended to appoint their confessor.

So it was here.

By the time Natalia came up behind Woe, and announced herself, Woe had concluded his song. The rough shape of a small human child was now depicted upon the trunk of the tree. A combination of Sevrath's Will and Mother's Song had formed the burl and subsequently shaped it. Moseke's blessing was full of wonders that Woe had only just begun to discover. He tucked his small recorder under his cloak, and stood up, turning around to face Natalia.

Although she was good at concealing her emotions, Woe could sense her apprenhension on her facial features. Still, she was far less expressive than the girl he'd left in Almund. More world weary and perhaps experienced into the bargain. Not as much the sheltered socialite that she'd come from. Woe nodded in greeting to her.

"Hello Natalia. I'm glad you came." He said, without a hint of deception. He turned aside, thinking perhaps he noticed something, a creature or some such, but then shrugged and turned back toward her. "I'm in your debt, as I said in the note. I have a gift for you, but first, is there anything you'd ask of me? I promise to answer as honestly as I can."

[Natalia Gregorios]

123 Ashan, Arc 722

Natalia projected calm, but inside, the young woman was tense. She remained quiet as he spoke, noting the child's imprint on the tree and appraising Woe. If he wished her to know something, he would tell her - that was certain.

Sensing that things were serene for the moment, she dismounted gracefully from Renaissance, giving the horse a soft pat as she did. She was curious about many things, like the reason for his choice of location for their meeting and some apparent new abilities. But maybe they weren't new? It wasn't as if they had really had a chance to get that far in their earlier meetings, and Natalia conceded that there was likely much she didn't know about Woe.

Giving Renaissance another pat, she slipped him a few apple slices and then offered the same to Opal with an open hand, making sure to stand a respectful distance back. Opal was a curiosity to Natalia, although she couldn't quite put her fingers on how or why, but she admired the beautifully unique creature all the same. She knew of the mount's skittishness, and didn't wish to provoke it.

"It's good to see you too, Woe. I trust you and the children have been well?" It was hard to take the etiquette out of the girl, not when it had been so beaten into her growing up. Beyond that, Natalia honestly did want to make sure that he and the boys were okay.

He mentioned a gift. Woe liked to give gifts, but then again, he was marked by her father. Natalia hadn't put two and two together until the moment, but something about those two facts made sense to her. Perhaps she would have to ask Woe about it sometrial, but not that one.

Smiling a little, the dark-haired young woman pointed to the set of hairpin daggers woven into her long curls, masquerading as hair ornaments. "These have been very useful, so I feel the need to thank you again, and as well for the warning about Etzos. It's an interesting training ground, I must admit."

He wanted to know if there was anything she wished to ask of him – where to begin? Natalia knew it not to be an idle offer but understood the need to be careful not to ask too much. There was a delicate balance to be had, so what was it that she wanted to know the most about?

"When we met in Almund, you had a dragonling. I've heard rumors of others having them, but I don't know many people, so there was no one to ask. You said we could exchange stories sometime."

Briefly considering her words, she continued. You probably don't have long, but I'd like to know if you know the larger story of what happened? Ilaren told us that Faldrun, Kata, and Mastes were using artifacts to collect ambient energy, and we needed to find the one in the Ghost Burho, carried by aukari. She said that there were other groups, so I assume you were in one of those? And yes, to answer your question from our last meeting, I was in the Ghost Burho when it was destroyed. Or, actually, below it."

It was hard to convey what she was striving at, and she was verging on too many words. Yes, there was a lot Natalia wanted to know, but some things had to wait for another time.

Sighing softly, she summarized. "I just would like to know what it was all about and what happened at the end, if you know."

Of course, it was too much to ask that her curiosity stay silent, so another question slipped free. "What does this place mean to you, Woe?" It obviously did, but if he would tell her was another story.

Template Credit: Oberan

[Woe]

Opal didn’t seem to mind so much as Natalia approached. She looked a little tired, and possibly starved for attention, and Natalia being naturally in tune with equine creatures would perhaps sense that. Opal nudged her snout right up against Natalia’s hand, but careful not to let her touch her veil.

She asked about him and the children. Woe nodded. “Nothing disastrous has befallen us yet.”

He was about ready to fetch her gift, when she mentioned the hairpins. At first he started smiling, but then she referred to Etzos as a training ground, it faded just a little. While he couldn’t hold it against her if she felt that way, he couldn’t help being unsettled by her characterization of the place.

He wanted to get to the bottom of that, now, and see her clearly, “A training ground. Etzos is a place that men and women have bled and died for, the site of many battles and a source of riches that have yet to be counted. Immortals whose names died centuries before we were born were slain here. It’s a little more than at raining ground.” But then Woe smiled, he wasn’t here to chide her too harshly.

It wasn’t long ago, afterall, that Woe felt very much the same about Etzos, as little more than a pitstop with a few extra amenities. Yet, spending time in a place, bleeding there and fighting for it, there was something to be said for the effect that investment could instill in an otherwise cold soul. It was a bit worrisome that Natalia perhaps had grown cynical and sardonic in her time here. He almost wanted to ask who she’d gotten herself mixed up in, but decided it was none of his business.

She went on to ask about dragonlings, and Woe nodded. “It was a Kutzeldaur. Of Kuvarakh. A terrible but well-meaning dragon. I was among those taken, as I suppose you must have been as well? Where did…”

But then she answered, telling him that she’d been in Yaralon of all places. And not just Yaralon, but the Ghost Burho. Woe suddenly felt gripped by a sense of anxiety, and almost let it show on his face a moment before the flash of emotion was gone. Natalia might’ve noticed it though, if she’d honed a perceptive eye.

“I heard about such artifacts, I was sent along by another Immortal, Ethelynda. That in itself would’ve seemed strange enough. I didn’t do well on my trials, but somehow made my way through it, to the source of power that was spoken of. Happened to be a dragon. It was in Augiery that I found him.”

“As for what happened, apparently several Immortals died. I haven’t had the chance to investigate the people who may have been involved, though. It’s been a busy few cycles.”

Woe turned to look at the oak, which had taken on the rough likeness of Werthom in life. He turned to stare at the burl he’d urged to grow from the trunk of the tree, back to Natalia.

“It’s hard to explain.” He said. “This place was the catalyst of great change for me. Where I learned my actions have weight in this world. In short, this is where I learned what it means not to be a slave anymore.”