Topic: Capricious Fate and Ancient Gods

Aneira Gwydion

Date: 2015-06-08 19:21 EST
"Even the most fickle are faithful to a few bad habits." Mason Cooley

The Gods seldom explained themselves. This Aneira knew as she peered out the small carriage window at the ever darkening sky. In the distance the growl warned of the coming maelstrom while spikes of light danced within the layers of heaven. Her traveling companions grumbled but she paid little mind to the words. It had been much the same since they had left from Wickenbriar a few days hence and she cared nothing for what they were saying. Such manufactured misery no longer could even stir up an inkling of pity from her anymore.

In the growing gusts of wind that battered the side of the conveyance Aneira thought she heard the Moirai laughing. Their humor always spilled forth when they started to toy with the fates of others. Yet, she knew only one would fall victim to their machinations. She had seen it more than once. In small basins of water and in cups of black tea, she found images dancing in black mired puddles and in ripples of lakes and streams, in the blaze of fire and in the dull ember glow of the hearth she had seen. Indeed she had felt them coming ever closer.

She knew not what they wished of her but she was wise enough to realize she could not escape. Those that ran from what was to be, ended up paying a heavy price and sadly, Aneira had not the right kind of coin to pay. No, she had to accept this path before continuing on her journey, thus here she sat, waiting for the crack of sound and the faltering of horses. The Vision was as very clear as it should be, having haunted her for weeks.

Often such sights were not for herself. She saw nameless faces and heard unknown songs in the smoke and shadows of dusk. On high the ravens call brought her understanding, but this time she only heard one thing from the winged messengers. "Go forth!" they cried, before fading into the night.

Nothing kept her tethered to the home of her childhood. Her brother had absconded years before to find glory in some war across the great span of water and she suspected he had forgotten as soldiers were want to do. Her mother had departed to the Beyond, and now resided with the Gods leaving her to find her own way. So when the Moirai had started to sing, she fell under their spell and soon became a gypsy vagabond, a weary traveler, wandering from realm to region searching for the sign of her prophetic foretelling.

(To Be Continued:) Definition of "Moirai" means Fates.

Aneira Gwydion

Date: 2015-06-13 13:23 EST
"Because I could not stop for death, He kindly stopped for me; The carriage held but just ourselves and immortality." Emily Dickinson

The Carriage lurched sharply, taking a dangerous tilt to one side and within the conveyance the others shouted and cursed, before it finally toppled right over. The horses screamed in fear as the heavy human laden box dragged them backwards before finally they stopped. Precariously balanced on the edge of a river, whose waters were rushing past and drowning out the cries of those inside so loud the roar it made.

There! The crack she had been expecting finally presented itself. The wheel snapping off while the coachmen sought to release the panicked horses from their terror filled plight. Aneira closed her eyes and soaked in the sounds swelling around her and with a smile she finally moved. The door pushed open and she dropped down a few feet to land lightly upon the muddy riverbank. Behind her the others continued to wail and lament. It was a curious thing to hear as all were so close to Death. Had they but paused to listen they might even hear the whisper of his dark robes as he drew closer. Oh yes, he was coming for she could feel him, as keenly as she felt the touch of icy rain upon her own pale cheek.

Gathering her skirt in one small hand, she struggled with the mud and climbed to the bank. There Aneira watched the over turned carriage teeter and with every draught of wind while those inside screamed like banshees as a funeral. Odd she would think such as it was in essence just that. None sought to escape which the small woman didn't fully comprehend. They had only to do as she had done and drop free to evade that terror, but they remained unwilling to help themselves.

Just a short distance away her carpet bag rested, having fallen from the carriage top in the first slid of mud and screams. Such a peculiar sight it was, waiting there as if collected especially for her. Turning as the sheets of rain spilled from the angry heavens above, she gathered her belongings and took shelter near a large oak. The coachman was shouting to the remaining passengers to climb forth. Aneira knew they would not listen. One was old, another lazy and she could only assume the rest were likely fools with feathers in their heads. The bank would give and they were going to slide into the furious water. Lucky ones may survive, but the God of Death hovered like a great spider in shadows.

T?was said that Illaldor was a very patient God. He would wait all day and all night to pluck a soul from the realm of the living. She felt him. He was so close that she suspected it was the brushing hem of his heavy night robes that finally sent the carriage box careening off into the freezing chop and wave of waiting ruin.

The screams were quickly muffled as greedy whitecaps dragged its new toy down into the murky depths and Aneira could only sigh. Such a waste but little she could do now but watch the heroic efforts of the unfortunate coachman as he sought to rescue the passengers. One, two and maybe even three dragged to shore before he could do nothing else. Their bodies collapsing in exhaustion upon the bank while the sky continued its watery assault, spent from the trials of being so near to Death perhaps.

It wasn't that she was heartless or cruel. She could have told them yes, but it never did any good. She had learned long, long ago that most only hear what they want to hear. Anything else be it of a dark nature such as tales of death, loss or the unlucky and they turn blind, deaf and ignorant.

(To Be Continued:)

Aneira Gwydion

Date: 2015-06-25 13:57 EST
"Fate determines many things, no matter how we struggle." Otto Weininger

Like a tiny gossamer moth she moved, stealing her way towards a large trunk. The pallid and panting coachman could only watch as the tiny thief had her way with the lock and proceeded to search inside the cavernous array of clothing and more. A short inspection brought forth wealth in the form of two thick blankets. Her cargo then taken to be given to the hero of the hour.

He would live. That understanding made her smile. Even the elderly lady would find a few more years to share the tale of her adventures. The pious followers of Dira, goddess of Purity would nae be so lucky. The man would survive but the woman's life already was leaking forth like the water that fell even now from above. Aneira would not interfere with the natural order, because she knew to do so would only draw further attention to herself which she simply did not wish to do.

Wrapping the shivering coachman in the thick blanket, she spoke to him quietly. Calm words issued in a way that they penetrated the various other sounds that assaulted their location. "I shall find more to cover the others and then seek help."

The man could only nod as violent shivers forced him to hold his tongue. Again he could but watch the delicate girl as she followed the scattered trail of bags and boxes that littered the path the carriage had taken. She selected bits and pieces along the way and soon stood out as the only source of color amidst the gray gloom of the continued storm. Each survivor covered with what she could find before she turned back to the road above the bank.

Lightening lit the way, the crackling release of energy sending the vapor scent of ozone thick into the dusk air. She knew to follow the lane towards the next town or village. Help would be found there and so she started her track. Heavy her burden as the bag bounced against her knees with every step. Mud grabbed at her feet with its greedy maw but she fought past it. Weariness weighing her down but still she did not doubt rescue was near at hand.

A single light, resting high above the line of trees drew her gaze. It remained steady while other flashes around her faded in and out like drunken fireflies. Sparks of lightening danced and strobbed, strafing color above but she followed that simple glow now. Legs weighted down and bones brittle with the cold of rain and wind she continued moving.

(To be continued...)

Aneira Gwydion

Date: 2015-07-03 14:48 EST
"Fate leads him who follows it, and drags him who resist." Plutarch

The wind wasn't laughing now, indeed it was screaming. The sound an echo of her own resistant limbs but finally she sensed solace ahead. The light leading the way to a manor house, surrounded by the dense forest and high stone walls, none of which could stop the dainty form. The gate shook under the force of gusting winds then sprang open with Aneira's approach and she gave no pause, entering to walk up the elegantly trimmed path.

For a moment she was reminded of home. In the glow of day the gardens were alive with vivid color and the sound of life teaming as they frolicked within the smooth walls of stone. The scent of fresh bread baking lingering in the air and teasing the senses with the sweetness of pies that found cooling upon window ledges. Here now, she missed the comfort of such things, the familiarity of surroundings and the confidence of noble blood. Perhaps one day she would be able to return, but not soon. Such thoughts brought her a sting of loss and sorrow but it was short lived and brief.

Before her rose the heavy moldings of wood and marble, the door barred from unwelcome strangers of which she was. Well aware of her physical state, she suspected she may need to seek out the Servants entrance but exhaustion riddled her form. She could delay no longer and go not a step further, for she was at the end of her endurance. It took all she had to reach for the heavy knocker and release it upon the entrance way. She heard clearly the sound booming within, rocking in counter to the thunder reverberating from the black heavens.

Warmth registered as the door swung open and through chattering teeth she conveyed the plight of the carriage before everything faded. The faint light, the symphony of sound along with the chill and pain of exhaustion all melted away. Aneira's dainty form falling into a heap of wet silk and velvet upon the hard stone entry way as she succumbed to her own fatigue lost to the blissful embrace of sleep.

There she found another vision that had been haunting her for nearly as long as the first. The great majestic lion with its luxurious mane of gold that sought to catch her in its mighty jaws. Glowing eyes of a newly minted coin with giant paws padded with velvet that rendered no true physical harm but tossed her about like a discarded rag doll with her own life force ebbing back and forth, shifting like the flow of the sea. She knew the growl and the speed of movement the large feline made and she sought to escape but always found herself trapped, captive to its formidable will. Always just a little too slow, or a little too lost. To many turns within the unknown maze that surrounded her. Each moment of foresight different yet each ending with the same result, but she would learn its secrets. The prediction would be decrypted soon. Aneira could only hope it would be soon enough as her own life dangled by the thinnest of strings. This she sensed only too well and cared not for the suspicion.

(To be continued...)

Audric Faenall

Date: 2015-08-30 23:22 EST
"Master, a word?" Audric looked up from the scroll he had been reading as Gorm, his major-domo peeked into the room. Golden eyes narrowed slightly for Gorm knew that he did not wish to be disturbed.

"What is it?"

"Milord, we have a visitor."

"A what?" The scroll was set aside as Audric stood, lightning illuminating him from the window behind his desk. The weather was abysmal this night, and it fit with Audric's mood. "A young slip of a girl, milord. Just collapsed on the servants stoop." Audric moved around the desk, his ire rising by the second. What Gorm had just said was impossible. The wards surrounding Winters Ash would have alerted him of intrusion, yet nothing had been discerned. It was something both upsetting and alarming. "She spoke of a carriage accident along the road. I had her moved to one of the servant's rooms and came along to tell you."

"Show me." The nobleman's voice was soft with menace, and he followed his major-domo toward the east wing of Winters Ash. He did not know what was amiss in his holdings, but for someone it would not bode well. He did not speak until they arrived, a dour guard standing at the closed door. "Wait here until I call you." Audric glanced toward Gorm before he moved to open the door and enter the room. Gorm shook his head slowly as the lord of the manor stepped from view, feeling sorry for the poor lass. It was rotten fates indeed for her to stumble into this particular manor house. Rotten fates indeed.

Audric shut the door behind him, the candle giving enough illumination to show the young woman lying on the simple bed between the stark reliefs made by lighting outside. Her eyes were closed and she was soaked from the torrential rains. He stood there for a long moment, just looking at her. He could not fathom how the myriad wards had not reacted to her presence. They allowed freely only those who were family or servants who bore an arcane and invisible mark. It was a mystery, and not only that in his mind, a threat.

The fingers of his right hand slowly tightened, making a claw shape as he called on the latent magical forces within him. A black globe slowly coming into being around his fingers as he moved to sit on the edge of the bed. His right hand moving as though he might caress her brow, but there would be no gentleness once that touch came.

But it didn't. Something caught his eye and forced him to pause. He actually didn't know why, for normally he would have drained the very life from her without fail. But this time he found himself'stopped. Golden eyes resting on a small blotch peeking from the collar of her blouse. Slowly, and again against his nature and for no reason, he reigned in the killing magic, his left hand moving to pull back her blouse, unheeding to the fact he came close to tearing the soggy material. His gaze was on the marking he had uncovered. He couldn't tell if it was a birthmark or tattoo, but he stared at the raven depicted for a long moment.

Gorm stood quietly, the occasional glance made toward the stoic guard. The attention of both moved to the door as it opened and Audric stepped back out. But the next words were not what Gorm had expected. "Have her taken to a guest room, and have one of the serving girls find her something dry to wear." The golden-maned mage looked toward the guard next. "Stay outside her door, and I am to be notified when she awakens." He turned to leave, but paused for a second. "And send a ride to check the story about a carriage accident."

"Of course, My Lord.? Gorm half-bowed as Audric stepped past him, stalking toward his study. He was surprised and relived that he was not having to have another corpse removed. As for Audric his thoughts were troubled, more questions than answers now weighing on him.

Aneira Gwydion

Date: 2015-09-14 21:33 EST
Thy fate is the common fate of all; Into each life some rain must fall. - Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

It was much later, as in far into the wee hours of the morning the girls eyes fluttered open. She found herself in nearly pitch black on a surprisingly comfortable bed. Sitting up in that dark unfamiliar room those crystalline blue eyes darted around in a mild panic. Stepping down on to the cold floor moments later and she blindly made her way towards what she hoped was the door. Unable to see as clearly as she hoped, she stumbled her way into a side table. The disorienting silence was soon shattered by a loud crash she managed to knock over a vase with her fumbling. Aniera instantly froze, feeling the shards of glass now bouncing wildly around her very naked and bare feet.

Muffled sounds came through the heavy door, soft light coming from under the edge. it was maybe a moment before it creaked open and a young woman peeked in. "Milady?" Seeing it was still quite dark, the curtains letting in none of the lightning, now faint as the storm was moving to the east, she took a small glow-orb from her apron and lit it. "Oh, hold still milady!" The maid hurried to move pieces of vase from around Aniera's feet.

She remained stone still, toes curling nervously as she started to realize she was wearing a rather voluminous gown, the hemline dragging the floor. Her things were still down near the river, she finally remembered. Teeth worried her lower lip as she looked towards the woman aiding her with the glass. Crystal-blue Eyes widen in a pale wan face. "Where am I miss?"

"You're in Winters Ash milady, a guest of His Grace, The Duke Faenall." the young maid picked up the last of the vase shards and moved to dump them in a small basket neat the table. She turned back to Aniera now. "You don't remember coming to the door during the storm?"

"I saw a light and followed it from the river." She was now carefully stepping away from the mess she made, holding the hem of the borrowed gown up from the floor. "There was an accident. All I have be down on that riverbank." The name of the placed was not familiar nor the Duke either. Aneira blinked to keep tears of weakness at bay only to end up nearly jumping out her skin as a booming crack of thunder rang overhead. It sounded so angry and forceful, which did not bode well for her, she was sure.

The young maid went to the door and stepped out for a moment, speaking softly with one outside before coming back into the well-appointed guestroom. "The guard is going to send someone down to the river and pick up your things." She moved to the side table, and poured a goblet of water and brought it over to the trembling Aniera. "Here, you may need this. We tried to clean you up as best we could after you were brought in, but you could probably use something to drink."

A grateful smile and Aneira nodded, silken black hair sliding against one very snow pale cheek as she welcomed the goblet from woman. "I thank ye for ye kindness miss." She did not know why she was here. This did not look like the place in her dreams, but it was also still very dark. Maybe her search was not complete and the thought of continuing made her want to weep, but she forced the urge back.

"That will be all Lissette. I will speak with her now." The voice came from the doorway, where the master of the manor stood. Framed by the light from the hall his arms were behind him, the simple tunic half-unbuttoned for he had been at his leisure earlier in the night. Now a mystery enfolded him. A mystery he found unwelcoming due to he had not sought it out.

"Your Grace." Lissette curtseyed to Audric and slipped out of the room. He entered, a wave of a hand bringing a glow-orb to life. "I am Audric, and you are...?" Deliberately left hanging the question was.

Crystalline blue eyes went wide at the sight of him and she hurriedly put the glass over to the side table. She caught the hem of the gown and an awkward curtsey followed. "I am Aniera Gwydion. Ah, Lady Aneira really, just nae use that . . . much.? That last part coming rather weakly as she suddenly felt like a bug under a glass as golden eyes inspected her.

(To be continued...)