Topic: Delivery Of Dreams

Sesian

Date: 2008-08-26 14:07 EST
The Six must have known Sesian needed the kinship of Braelin'a. The woman from Ta'Ven did not know that rest she was missing until her fellow Keeper arrived in RhyDin. In the middle of the night she woke, and sat to the edge of her bed. Alone in the house that had been hears all those years now. Alone, she wept with the relief of her fellow within the realm.

It was utter, simple nonsense to find herself weeping. But she could not still the tears that flowed. She leaned forward and abandoned the bed with getting to her feet. Swarthy hand passed against her face to take the tears away. "Ohh, my Dreamer. How greatly you are missed in these times." Lips murmured the whisper to the air, as if Matthew were still on the plane of this existence. But her handsome Dreamer had not walked within mortal flesh for so long that she could barely remember the true sound of his voice. To any that had overheard her, to have seen her would have thought madness had touched her mind to talk to the nothingness around her.

The gown of pale cloth starkly contrasted against her flesh. It was sleeveless and the length of it brushed the ground about her bare feet as she wandered from the room and into the living area of her the old woodcutter's cottage. There was no need for her to light one of the oil lamps and the night was warm enough to dispell the thought of a fire within the hearth.

She passed the table and stepped into the minor area reserved for the simple kitchen. A mug of water was soon poured and her feet moved over the floor until she settled into the chair beside the dormant fireplace.

Lids of her eyes slipped closed. When her senses had lulled, when she was on the edge of sleep it came.

Torrent flashes, like lightening splintering across the knowledge of her mind. The touch was invasive and had Sesian on her feet and cloth. A faint glow eminated from about her hands and eyes that could not see seemed just a bit paler in those moments. Expression and mood was suspect.

Sesian

Date: 2008-08-26 14:16 EST
Soft fingers at the edges of her mind were far too kind, having the sense of oil on the very surface of water.

"Who is there?" It wasn't until the words were passed her lips that she realized they had been drawn through clenched teeth. She gathered herself, steeling courage and moving for the door.

Magick was so heavy on the air that she could taste it and breath it into her lungs until they themselves were tingling and numbing from it. By the time she opened the door, her senses were on fire. It was painful to breathe from the stitch it put in her side.

Right set of toes behind the clothy hem of her gown met rudely with something on the stone stoop of her simple home. Attention bled over it, but she didn't pick it up just yet. On the horizon, the danger of those moments was still too fresh, biting at the air and soil in its retreat.

The dark magick scored at the dirt and left grooves in the earth and grass like eratic lines worn in it from too many carts and carriages.

"What do you fear, Sesian? It is just the wind.." The male voice knew her well and tried to comfort her with quiet tones.

"Be still, my Dreamer. Be still." Words wavered unsteadily, on the edges of readying for a fight that never came that night. Half an hour's time came and went. The voice of her Dreamer was not in her ears, but instead the sounds of leaves on the quiet night's breeze and an owl somewhere far more distant than the yard of her home.

Sesian

Date: 2008-08-26 14:25 EST
When an hour had passed, she bent at the knees and took the heavy box with her. Her foot caught the door and soundly closed it a mere moment before she moved to put the weighted box on the kitchen table. Sesian bustled about and moved from door to windows closing and barring them.

"Braelin'a, you are needed..." Mind's voice brushed against her Sister's thoughts while Braelin'a slept. "Wake, Braelin'a. You are needed at the cottage.."

While she hurried through the room setting warders at the four main corners of it. She did not turn back towards the box. She didn't dare. Whispers were all around it. Coming from it. Her chest ached and her stomach twisted. It had a presence all its own and in the pit of her stomach, she wondered what further lay inside.

Magick, her own, spun to shield her ears from the onslaught of the hissing whispers that were trying to lure her to open it while she was alone. There was danger in such things, great enough to get her killed.

She would wait for Braelin'a. And while she did, kettle was put on the heat and cup with tea to the counter. Her own drink was water. While she seemed in transfixed, cautious watch of the flat-topped box of thick, exotic woods and stout metal at its edges and corners.. she spooned more sugar into her glass of water like a drunk needing another swallow of whiskey.

A Shadows Whisper

Date: 2008-09-09 00:25 EST
Winter was coming. It lurked in the distant low-moan of the wind now which swept across grasses, touched leaves and rattled branches. It promised ice, sleet and cold even as summer fought tooth and nail with autumn to hold on.

A losing battle, so thought Braelin'a on the back of her mule she had not yet named. Mules, all animals, really, eventually gave you a name to give them, anyway. She was in no rush for that. She was, however, by the looks of things, in a rush to move.

Bent forward over the mule's bristle of a mane to murmur quietly words of encouragement in her mesmerizing siren's call of a voice, in the dark of wind rushed night, the mule was sure footed and moved with the same urgency Braelin'a's words carried. Fast, fast, go, go, hurry, hurry, danger. Was it the wind, the woman, or the mule who had thought such things? It was hard to tell, for in the dark everything became twisted. Once-warm and welcome trees turned into skeletal sticks stretching for stars and the grass at night whipped like agitated snake tails beneath hooves.

As soon as the path, and the cottage Sesian called home began to loom in the near black of night, Braelin'a slid from the mule with a firm hand curled to a fist in the cheek pieces of the mule's bridle to lead him to the door.

A testament to just how quickly Braelin'a had come to her sisters call, a wild tangle of long brown hair caught in simply ribbon did naught for the pieces of hair caught in the wind. A drab, wrinkled gray woolen dress thrown on over her sleeping shift and not-yet-tied boots at the door step.

Braelin'a's fist on the front door sounded like a heart knocking against rib bones.

"Sesian!" All the questions, urgency, and worry that she had did not need to be expressed in anything else but a single name.

Sesian

Date: 2008-09-27 15:42 EST
In her lean against the counter, she steadily drank the water that was so thickened with sugar that is was truly an elixer. The swell of her hip was against the counter, her form leaning and her empty hand with its palm and splayed fingers against its plain surface. She was not the sort of woman to lean against walls or counters to accentuate the lines and curves of her form. This was repose to steady herself where her mind was reeling in wonder and caution.

As she pushed herself away from the counter, she relented the glass of sugarwater to it; finished. Bare steps among clothy hems gave the table a foot of space as she slowly rounded it. It was not as if the item was scribed with some ancient script for eyes and mind to deduce. None of that met her senses, especially unseeing gaze.

When she paused, it was to the end of the table that faced from the kitchen out towards the living area where the hearth was. Her attention was tugged away to hear Braelin'a and one hand drew up from the edge of the table to meet with her left side with some slight evidence of relief flitting over her angular, darkly fleshed face.

Without turning back to the heavy box on the table, she moved for the door and opened it. "I am here, Braelin'a. Caution yourself and.. you might want to lift your mind-veils." Far from that of an order, as at time Braelin'a seemed to have more knowledge and experience in some things, but the advice was offered.

Caution that she had done for herself almost an hour before. There was none there that could presently say what the magick of the box might hold or the residual effects it might have on their bodies as well as their minds. Lengthy fingers held the door open, washing them in moonlight and allowing some of it to spill in through the door.

A Shadows Whisper

Date: 2008-10-13 20:32 EST
"I don't--" These words were not lost in the creak of door opening or the soft rustle of well worn, lived in fabrics that swathed the woman neck to toe. A splash of gray and green in the portal before the door swung shut behind her. She did not finish what it was she had been about to say, and if asked, she most probably would not have remembered as some aught that befell her sights took words away.

Sure enough, the sounds of breath, animals..things which home and hearth kept swam around the two; yet the silence in Braelin'a's stillness ate up the noise near her.

She broke her own statue pose by running the length of fingers down her cloak and stepping forward. The tip of her chin seemed to lift with each footfall...or perhaps that was indeed just a trick of the shadows. When she drew near enough to the thing on the table, Bae' circled it as wary leopards circle lion's pride.

"What is it?" The sweetness of voice became hushed.