288 PW - 287 PW A Marn History
The elf, born and raised on the Causeway, was especially elf-like in his appearance. The closer to magic areas one lived, the less human one appeared. His eyes were large, almond-shaped, and set within a narrow facial structure composed of angular cheek bones, pointed chin, and a generous mouth. His hair was fair and wispy, starting high on his forehead, in a widow's peak, and brushed the top of his collar. Fithin Sehkhara was tall, standing easily at 6'2. His build was as slim and angular as his features. His pointed chin rested on long fingers curled tips to palm.
Fithin stared out of his window, pondering the rocky expanse and sea that made up Theogious’ Causeway. Wisps of fog curled in spirals, reminding him of the nautilus shells he’d found on the beach as a child.
Here was a place, he thought, like few others in the world. In this place, the awesome and terrible truth of what magic could do was in the very air one breathed. Magical energy warped the land. Tall columns of rock led like steps to only Theogious and Baresi knew where. Magic filled the lungs and permeated the very fiber of one’s being. Here one walked the line between waking and Dreaming. Only those closely related to magic were allowed to visit the causeway. Should the uninitiated see such evidence of power, be exposed to such raw energy, they would certainly go mad.
“It is time.” Ciara Sehkhara's voice was a modulated alto. Like her mate, she was an elf, but with softer angles than her husband. Ciara had been born and raised on the West Coast of Darleone, far from the chaotic magics of the Causeway. Her hair was brown, tinted with auburn, and her eyes were the vivid green of spring leaves. Her features were similar to Fithin's - large eyed and angular, but slightly broader. Fithin looked up at his mate and admired what he saw. His mouth quirked in the corner in a slight smile as he nodded at her.
The pilgrimage to the Causeway had begun at dawn. Now, he needed to put away his musings and his books and join the others. By moonrise, more than a thousand hands and feet would move through intricate motions. Melodies with rhythms like the ebb and flow of waves against the beach would rise above them and move through them. And, finally voices would raise in chanted song, weaving through it all. Lights would dance among the stars in the heavens and the very air would be charged with the essence of everything that ever was and would ever be.
Flashback - Marn Creation Series: The Cause Way 287 PW
Flashback - Marn Creation Series: The Cause Way 287 PW
A story is like a tapestry; it is never finished until the final thread is sewn.
Profile | Thread Tracking
Profile | Thread Tracking
Re: The Cause Way
Energy charged the air around them. Skin tingled, eyes sparkled, and lips parted in words and smiles. Everything done according to plan, each step carefully placed just so. Bodies swayed this way and that way, like shadows flickering in candlelight. The elves who participated in the pilgrimage believed fervently that what they did this night kept the world safe from a maddening influx of magic. They believed with every fibre of their beings that this ancient dance kept the Seal in place.
For those who found the experience more than they could bear, Fithin and Ciara Sehkhara were there. Those two firmly believed that magic use should be limited, if not wholly restricted. The downside of the situation was that magic was often required to handle the overly fervent. Neither were above using magic and hypocritically enough, were exceptionally good at balancing reality with that of the Dreaming.
Ciara had developed her opinions through experience; having seen what tampering with magics could do to an individual - twisted limbs, twisted minds - and had written books on the psychological affect of magic on inherently non-magical beings. She had also authored at least two standard text books for anyone seeking medical training. Leveraging magic as a means to understanding physiology, her anatomical texts were second to none for medical knowledge. Fithin, too, was a scholar. His knowledge was more academic, focused on law and philosophy. He dabbled with healing magics only because Ciara's interest in it, interested him. It was a common subject from which they could have discourse.
For those who found the experience more than they could bear, Fithin and Ciara Sehkhara were there. Those two firmly believed that magic use should be limited, if not wholly restricted. The downside of the situation was that magic was often required to handle the overly fervent. Neither were above using magic and hypocritically enough, were exceptionally good at balancing reality with that of the Dreaming.
Ciara had developed her opinions through experience; having seen what tampering with magics could do to an individual - twisted limbs, twisted minds - and had written books on the psychological affect of magic on inherently non-magical beings. She had also authored at least two standard text books for anyone seeking medical training. Leveraging magic as a means to understanding physiology, her anatomical texts were second to none for medical knowledge. Fithin, too, was a scholar. His knowledge was more academic, focused on law and philosophy. He dabbled with healing magics only because Ciara's interest in it, interested him. It was a common subject from which they could have discourse.
A story is like a tapestry; it is never finished until the final thread is sewn.
Profile | Thread Tracking
Profile | Thread Tracking
Re: The Cause Way
Joyous song greeted the sun as it cast its rays across the mist-laden causeway. For a short time, the whole of Theogious' Causeway would be revealed as the sun burned the mist from the column-like rocks. Sea water eddied and swirled as the tide ebbed. And, finally, as the silence filled the area a still pool was left among the rocks. The water lay like glass, reflecting sun, clouds, and sky.
Baresi's Mirror occurred only on this day - twice per year - due to some phenomenon of climate and astral elements. The creation myths of the Elves said it was from this pool that Theogious called the first elves of Pal Tahrenor into being, forming them from the brine of Baresi's tears, the sandstone rock columns, his blood, and the astral energies that inundated the cause way. From these elves, Theogious formed a great army and marched them across the causeway through the archipelagos and into Eyropa. The elven army served faithfully with their human brethren to turn back the scourge during the Changer's War. Some of those elves continued to travel, settling in other areas of Pal Tahrenor. Some returned to Darleone, the land of their birth. Some returned only to the Dreaming, their physical being lost.
Fithin looked upon Baresi's Mirror and could not help but be moved by the beauty of it all. Mist had begun to creep back in wispy tendrils. The light seemed to waver and pulse above the mirror, diffusing through the mist. And, there, just for a moment, the seal was revealed -- whole and strong. Fithin nodded in satisfaction. One elf was not strong enough, but a thousand? Oh! Yes, indeed.
Another fifty years would pass before this particular ritual occurred once more. Soft whispers and smiles were shared. The faithful had done their duty. Nature did the rest. Already, waves disturbed the pool, casting ripples across its surface as if erasing the evidence.
Now, they would break their fast, rest, and make merry.
Clasping his hands behind his back, Fithin waited until the pool had gone, the mist resumed, and the sun shone weakly upon the sands. That one moment of sun-filled clarity, granted by Baresi, seemed sublime and he cherished it in his memory. Perhaps he would write about it later and how its existence influenced elvish thinking.
Ciara had left his side, summoned to help an elf who had taken ill. The symptoms were common during the ritual. Paleness and loss of vitality, but no external indications as to why. No injuries were ever present. The patient would just suddenly fall ill. Some murmured and rambled about shadows, a fact that Ciara had noted on more than one occasion. Often enough that the malady included shadows in the unfinished description. One day, she vowed, she would determine the cause of the malady.
Baresi's Mirror occurred only on this day - twice per year - due to some phenomenon of climate and astral elements. The creation myths of the Elves said it was from this pool that Theogious called the first elves of Pal Tahrenor into being, forming them from the brine of Baresi's tears, the sandstone rock columns, his blood, and the astral energies that inundated the cause way. From these elves, Theogious formed a great army and marched them across the causeway through the archipelagos and into Eyropa. The elven army served faithfully with their human brethren to turn back the scourge during the Changer's War. Some of those elves continued to travel, settling in other areas of Pal Tahrenor. Some returned to Darleone, the land of their birth. Some returned only to the Dreaming, their physical being lost.
Fithin looked upon Baresi's Mirror and could not help but be moved by the beauty of it all. Mist had begun to creep back in wispy tendrils. The light seemed to waver and pulse above the mirror, diffusing through the mist. And, there, just for a moment, the seal was revealed -- whole and strong. Fithin nodded in satisfaction. One elf was not strong enough, but a thousand? Oh! Yes, indeed.
Another fifty years would pass before this particular ritual occurred once more. Soft whispers and smiles were shared. The faithful had done their duty. Nature did the rest. Already, waves disturbed the pool, casting ripples across its surface as if erasing the evidence.
Now, they would break their fast, rest, and make merry.
Clasping his hands behind his back, Fithin waited until the pool had gone, the mist resumed, and the sun shone weakly upon the sands. That one moment of sun-filled clarity, granted by Baresi, seemed sublime and he cherished it in his memory. Perhaps he would write about it later and how its existence influenced elvish thinking.
Ciara had left his side, summoned to help an elf who had taken ill. The symptoms were common during the ritual. Paleness and loss of vitality, but no external indications as to why. No injuries were ever present. The patient would just suddenly fall ill. Some murmured and rambled about shadows, a fact that Ciara had noted on more than one occasion. Often enough that the malady included shadows in the unfinished description. One day, she vowed, she would determine the cause of the malady.
A story is like a tapestry; it is never finished until the final thread is sewn.
Profile | Thread Tracking
Profile | Thread Tracking
Re: The Cause Way
Mind filled with observations and thoughts, Fithin walked slowly back to his office. He was tired, but wanted to capture his thoughts on the nature of Theogious and Baresi.
Like the mathematics of the stars, everything had its place and orbital pieces. Taking up pen and paper, delicate script flowed beneath his hand. He would capture the experience before moving on to more mundane activities, such as rest.
~~~
Ciara frowned as she examined the most recent person to experience the shadow malady. Seven in all and not a one remembered much of anything. No marks marred their bodies, yet they appeared exhausted and drained of energy. A few days of rest, a meal high in legumes and fish, and sunlight seemed to restore the patient's to full health. The malady was frustrating to say the least. That she couldn't determine the root cause angered her.
As night fell, Ciara made her way through quiet streets. Soft lights, nestled in trees, lit her path. She was certain Fithin would not have returned home immediately. So, her steps took her to the Learning Center and his study.
But for a few lights here and there offering yellow pools of respite between dark shadows, the halls of the Learning Center were empty. Looking to the door of Fithin's study she saw a shadow cast upon the wall for a moment and picked up her pace. As she thought, her husband was still awake, busy in his books.
"Fithin, leave your books and come to bed," she said as she stepped through the door and stopped abruptly. There, at her husband's desk, was a man she had never seen before. Human by the shape of his ears, but his scent was not. A shielded candle was the only light in the room, carefully placed with the shield toward the man. He was slim and pale, with black eyes and hair. The banked light made his eyes flat, like some toothy hunter from the deep. Fear prickled across her skin, but was kept in check. She was too curious of him to let fear cost her the moment. His mode of dress - the fabric and style - indicated he had wealth. He appeared to be human, surprising to be sure, but not so uncommon as to warrant gaping stares. Ciara opened her mouth to speak, but the man spoke first. His voice was smooth and held the hint of an accent.
Like the mathematics of the stars, everything had its place and orbital pieces. Taking up pen and paper, delicate script flowed beneath his hand. He would capture the experience before moving on to more mundane activities, such as rest.
~~~
Ciara frowned as she examined the most recent person to experience the shadow malady. Seven in all and not a one remembered much of anything. No marks marred their bodies, yet they appeared exhausted and drained of energy. A few days of rest, a meal high in legumes and fish, and sunlight seemed to restore the patient's to full health. The malady was frustrating to say the least. That she couldn't determine the root cause angered her.
As night fell, Ciara made her way through quiet streets. Soft lights, nestled in trees, lit her path. She was certain Fithin would not have returned home immediately. So, her steps took her to the Learning Center and his study.
But for a few lights here and there offering yellow pools of respite between dark shadows, the halls of the Learning Center were empty. Looking to the door of Fithin's study she saw a shadow cast upon the wall for a moment and picked up her pace. As she thought, her husband was still awake, busy in his books.
"Fithin, leave your books and come to bed," she said as she stepped through the door and stopped abruptly. There, at her husband's desk, was a man she had never seen before. Human by the shape of his ears, but his scent was not. A shielded candle was the only light in the room, carefully placed with the shield toward the man. He was slim and pale, with black eyes and hair. The banked light made his eyes flat, like some toothy hunter from the deep. Fear prickled across her skin, but was kept in check. She was too curious of him to let fear cost her the moment. His mode of dress - the fabric and style - indicated he had wealth. He appeared to be human, surprising to be sure, but not so uncommon as to warrant gaping stares. Ciara opened her mouth to speak, but the man spoke first. His voice was smooth and held the hint of an accent.
A story is like a tapestry; it is never finished until the final thread is sewn.
Profile | Thread Tracking
Profile | Thread Tracking
Re: The Cause Way
Dark eyes regarded the elf-woman. He had always held an aesthetic appreciation for the lithe and graceful build elves possessed. The faces were often oddly unattractive, by human standards - too pointed, too inhuman, but this, too, held its own aesthetic appeal. This one fell in the spectrum of pleasing in both human and elf terms. It was good he had fed earlier.
He had never been one for sentimentality. Intelligence and curiosity is what drove him most. His newest social experiment needed certain elements for success. He had read the published papers and books by the Sehkhara couple. He could use them and killing her would make things inconvenient.
"I have need of you and your husband."
Clasping her hands before her, Ciara waited for him to continue. His voice was accented, yet smooth.
"On the Sooquoi Plains, I have established a town. The governmental system is in its infancy. Medical and educational programs are needed. Your husband is my first choice." The man spoke further on his vision and Ciara knew her husband would accept the offer. This was the type of opportunity Fithin had always dreamed of bringing to life.
Bela was unsure if they would come. He could see in tell-tale ways - a slight tightening around the mouth, a change in breathing patterns - that the prospect was not one she favored. Then, something changed. She was like a hunting dog suddenly alerted to the presence of a fox.
The elf woman stepped toward him and leaned down to look closely at his face. Yes, it was good he was no longer hungry.
"There is some magic effect here. What have you become? You wear a human body, but are not one. Have you tried to reverse the effects?"
The sudden interrogation was unexpected as was the detached clinical look on her face. Suddenly, she was much more interesting than she had been.
"Perhaps that is something we may collaborate on, once you and your husband relocate to Marn." The elf's eyes widened, glittering in the semi-dark of the room. A small, slight curve turned up the corners of her mouth.
Ciara nodded once, decisively. "I will speak with Fithin."
Self-satisfaction filled the vampire. He knew they would come.
He had never been one for sentimentality. Intelligence and curiosity is what drove him most. His newest social experiment needed certain elements for success. He had read the published papers and books by the Sehkhara couple. He could use them and killing her would make things inconvenient.
"I have need of you and your husband."
Clasping her hands before her, Ciara waited for him to continue. His voice was accented, yet smooth.
"On the Sooquoi Plains, I have established a town. The governmental system is in its infancy. Medical and educational programs are needed. Your husband is my first choice." The man spoke further on his vision and Ciara knew her husband would accept the offer. This was the type of opportunity Fithin had always dreamed of bringing to life.
Bela was unsure if they would come. He could see in tell-tale ways - a slight tightening around the mouth, a change in breathing patterns - that the prospect was not one she favored. Then, something changed. She was like a hunting dog suddenly alerted to the presence of a fox.
The elf woman stepped toward him and leaned down to look closely at his face. Yes, it was good he was no longer hungry.
"There is some magic effect here. What have you become? You wear a human body, but are not one. Have you tried to reverse the effects?"
The sudden interrogation was unexpected as was the detached clinical look on her face. Suddenly, she was much more interesting than she had been.
"Perhaps that is something we may collaborate on, once you and your husband relocate to Marn." The elf's eyes widened, glittering in the semi-dark of the room. A small, slight curve turned up the corners of her mouth.
Ciara nodded once, decisively. "I will speak with Fithin."
Self-satisfaction filled the vampire. He knew they would come.
A story is like a tapestry; it is never finished until the final thread is sewn.
Profile | Thread Tracking
Profile | Thread Tracking
Re: The Cause Way
Between packing, researching, collecting components, fair well parties, speeches, and waiting for the seasons to turn, nearly half a year had passed. A half-year too long by Ciara’s reckoning, but some things could not be hurried. The trip, by boat and land, would take another three months. Mundane travel was annoying, but necessary. At least she had the opportunity to read through further research materials.
Both she and Fithin had lap desks. And, both immersed themselves in preparing for the arrival. For his part, Fithin made notes regarding the educational system. He looked forward to discussing the pros and cons of different styles. He hadn’t been this excited by something since the day he married Ciara. Fithin lifted his gaze to his wife, smiling dotingly as he watched her work. He loved the curve of her face and the way her brows furrowed as she thought deeply on subjects of interest to her. He loved the way she would become so immersed in those subjects. In this, they were so similar! Continuing to smile, Fithin turned again to his manuscript.
Both she and Fithin had lap desks. And, both immersed themselves in preparing for the arrival. For his part, Fithin made notes regarding the educational system. He looked forward to discussing the pros and cons of different styles. He hadn’t been this excited by something since the day he married Ciara. Fithin lifted his gaze to his wife, smiling dotingly as he watched her work. He loved the curve of her face and the way her brows furrowed as she thought deeply on subjects of interest to her. He loved the way she would become so immersed in those subjects. In this, they were so similar! Continuing to smile, Fithin turned again to his manuscript.
A story is like a tapestry; it is never finished until the final thread is sewn.
Profile | Thread Tracking
Profile | Thread Tracking
Re: The Cause Way
Autumn, 287 PW
When the couple arrived in Marn, reconstruction was booming. The constant sound of hammering echoed throughout the town, coupled with the neighs of horses and voices of men.
Fithin's eyes gleamed with excitement.
"I cannot wait to review the plans and meet with the other people who are resettling." Ciara gave Fithin a doting smile.
"We find out where we are to stay. We probably need to make housing arrangements."
The conveyance pulled up next to what appeared to be a tavern. The driver opened the door and looked in.
"This is the Drunken Rat. It's got rooms and food until we get directions on where to take you."
Ciara nodded, "Thank you."
The man stepped back from the open door as Fithin moved to exit. Fithin turned and held out a hand to Ciara.
"Would you take care of this. I want to look around." Ciara nodded and smiled dotingly. He was like a little boy on an adventure.
"Be careful."
"I will. I will."
Ciara watched Fithin until he was out of sight.
"Doryn, would it be possible to get a message to Lord Belatucadrus? I would like to let him know we arrived safely."
The man nodded. "I'm sure we could arrange something. I'll ask about that when I'm checking on where to have your things delivered."
Ciara nodded and thanked the man before moving toward the inn and tavern. A cold drink and warm food sounded good. She could also let a room, if it was needed, should their house not be ready. Before she entered, a voice called out to her in her native tongue. Ciara paused and turned, brows raised.
"Doryn, I think the answers to our questions have arrived."
When the couple arrived in Marn, reconstruction was booming. The constant sound of hammering echoed throughout the town, coupled with the neighs of horses and voices of men.
Fithin's eyes gleamed with excitement.
"I cannot wait to review the plans and meet with the other people who are resettling." Ciara gave Fithin a doting smile.
"We find out where we are to stay. We probably need to make housing arrangements."
The conveyance pulled up next to what appeared to be a tavern. The driver opened the door and looked in.
"This is the Drunken Rat. It's got rooms and food until we get directions on where to take you."
Ciara nodded, "Thank you."
The man stepped back from the open door as Fithin moved to exit. Fithin turned and held out a hand to Ciara.
"Would you take care of this. I want to look around." Ciara nodded and smiled dotingly. He was like a little boy on an adventure.
"Be careful."
"I will. I will."
Ciara watched Fithin until he was out of sight.
"Doryn, would it be possible to get a message to Lord Belatucadrus? I would like to let him know we arrived safely."
The man nodded. "I'm sure we could arrange something. I'll ask about that when I'm checking on where to have your things delivered."
Ciara nodded and thanked the man before moving toward the inn and tavern. A cold drink and warm food sounded good. She could also let a room, if it was needed, should their house not be ready. Before she entered, a voice called out to her in her native tongue. Ciara paused and turned, brows raised.
"Doryn, I think the answers to our questions have arrived."
A story is like a tapestry; it is never finished until the final thread is sewn.
Profile | Thread Tracking
Profile | Thread Tracking
Re: The Cause Way 287 PW
A fastidious looking man, somewhere between elf and human, was hurrying toward her. Ciara waited patiently for the man. With a bow, the man introduced himself as Willow, before handing over a packet to her.
"These are the keys to the Asylym, near the old Fort. The Lord states your laboratory is fully stocked. Should you need further equipment, please let me know. I will make arrangements for you."
"Thank you, Willow. A pleasure to meet you."
Ciara opened the packet and a pair of keys slipped out.
"Do you know whether our home is complete or not?"
"The City Planner and architect only arrived yesterday. Building materials arrive daily. Rooms have been let for you and your husband already."
"I do love efficiency, Willow. You are to be commended."
"Thank you, m'Lady."
Ciara smiled with amusement. "We have titles now?"
"Yes, m'Lady. My Lord desires his recruited first settlers to be recognized for their contributions to the town. Artisans are also part of the first settlers and have been commissioned to render statues and paintings of the first settlers as well as the progress of the town's construction. The architect, city planner, and artist are also staying at this Inn."
"Lovely. I look forward to meeting them. Thank you, again, Willow."
"Of course, m'Lady." With that, the fastidious looking man bowed and turned to Dorin, providing the coachman instructions for delivery of a few cases that had been picked up along the way.
"These are the keys to the Asylym, near the old Fort. The Lord states your laboratory is fully stocked. Should you need further equipment, please let me know. I will make arrangements for you."
"Thank you, Willow. A pleasure to meet you."
Ciara opened the packet and a pair of keys slipped out.
"Do you know whether our home is complete or not?"
"The City Planner and architect only arrived yesterday. Building materials arrive daily. Rooms have been let for you and your husband already."
"I do love efficiency, Willow. You are to be commended."
"Thank you, m'Lady."
Ciara smiled with amusement. "We have titles now?"
"Yes, m'Lady. My Lord desires his recruited first settlers to be recognized for their contributions to the town. Artisans are also part of the first settlers and have been commissioned to render statues and paintings of the first settlers as well as the progress of the town's construction. The architect, city planner, and artist are also staying at this Inn."
"Lovely. I look forward to meeting them. Thank you, again, Willow."
"Of course, m'Lady." With that, the fastidious looking man bowed and turned to Dorin, providing the coachman instructions for delivery of a few cases that had been picked up along the way.
A story is like a tapestry; it is never finished until the final thread is sewn.
Profile | Thread Tracking
Profile | Thread Tracking