Silverwind, I believe we have a date with destiny...

[The Missing Link]

[OOC: To wherever this leads, I'm looking absolutely forward to it. *grin*]

For all intensive purposes, it seemed like a rather normal evening. The late autumn air was beginning to set in, and there was a slight crispness to the air within the wood. Little by little, the day creatures that gleefully began to inhabit the place were settling down for the night, quieting their own families, making way for the owls, mice, and crickets that would keep the nightly watch. Even the babbling of the brook, just downstream from the small waterfall where the naiads were rumoured to dwell, seemed to quiet slightly, although its endless chatter still could be heard off in the distance as it leapt and danced over the surface stones, pulling playfully the silt at its base along with it, as if eager to finally have a friend to journey along with it. So too was the sun creeping towards the ends of the earth off in the east, ready to set in perhaps an half hour or so, ready to put the waking world into slumber...

Try as it might, however, most of the sun's rays just couldn't penetrate the thick canopy of the forest. Only occasionally would the thin beam of light would strike at the particular magical spot to allow it to descend all the way to the lichen-covered ground. Already a fog had begun to set in within the deepest parts of the wood, the mist seeking out to glorify itself within the sunlight, desiring to trace its path all the way to the final endpoint. The forest was beginning to change its garb from its daylight oranges and earthtones into its standard nightly clothing of grey and black, preparing itself for the midnight ball the trees so enjoyed. The daytime world was quieting down, ready to sleep for the night in preparation of the new day.

One figure of the day, however, refused to follow the rules this night. Though her vibrant colours of cream, faded blue, and burgundy were dimming in order to match that of the forest around her, she was quite awake, unbending to the sleepy pollen overtaking what would be soon the Moon's forest. The redheaded Hylian was perhaps a hundred paces from a tree of her own choosing, standing there with a heated aura of concentration, her wits battling the crisp air of the world that wanted to bite into her flesh. She could smell the bittersweet scent of the starblooms, opening up their petals slowly and releasing their sacred fragrence into the dusky world. Shrugging off the distractions seeking to claim her soul into the respite of dreams, she pulled back the string with her two fingers, her muscles coiling and rippling in response. Closing her eyes, she called her mind out to the tree well over a hundred paces away, seeking its shade in the darkening air. The wooden nib and delicate feathering tickled her fingers as they stood their watch beside her ear, waiting, feeling, concentrating...

WHOOSH!

A sharp gust of wind whizzed past her ear, her arm now free of that which she had held, but her own elven hears had filtered that all too familiar sound out of her mind, waiting for something else.

CRACK!

Without evening opening her eyes, she knew that she had hit the mark. Of course, as was her habit, she would mark off the number of paces towards the designated tree, just to make sure she was confident of the length to the mark, for her feet and mind weren't quite as reliable as her delicate yet at the same time worked fingers.

One... two... three... four...

It was an endless charade, this practice of hers. Since the incident two years ago, it seemed to be one of the few things that truly brought her joy--that is, if it could be called joy. Perhaps a more accurate description was that it gave her mind a playtoy with which to keep it occupied until it became bored, as if it were a newborn babe given a bottle until the milk therein had been sucked dry. Of course, deep down she was aware of this, but only barely at a conscious level, sort of the nagging voice that always seems to be heard even after you've covered your head with a triad of pillows; impossibly quiet it may be, but audible it always remains.

Sixty-seven, sixty-eight, sixty-nine...

Already, the arrow sticking in the unmarked bark of the tall, naked sycamore was coming into view. The tree, as expected, had but a single arrow sticking out of it, regardless of the quarter-quiver that she had exhausted in this bout with her mind. The bow had never been a challenge for her; it felt natural within her grasp, as if the cherry-stained recurve bow had chosen her and not vice versa. Quite honestly, it was becoming less and less a challenge these sessions, and what had been ordeal at first was now a stroll through the park. The magic was still there, but it seemed harshly tainted and faded over its initial form.

One hundred forty-eight, one hundred forty-nine, one hundred fifty... oh, one hundred fifty-one...

"A new personal best," she mumbled to herself as she stopped beside the tree in her counting. Lo and behold, there was her arrow, exactly where she had placed it... exactly where she had placed the previous seven arrows before the next had split it in two, now laid to rest upon the ground awaiting their ultimate burial in the snow that was soon to befall the woods.

"It's time to move on, Xu..." she said without too much thought, speaking to herself. "No more trouble for me here to find..." And then with a slight pause, "Hai."

Picking up the silvery and golden lyre from the ground by the roots of the tree, already with the faint mist clinging wetly to it, she attached it to her belt and placed the bow about her body, its taut string running between her breasts as she looked up to the sky.

"Goddesses, direct my feet this night. Take me into your arms, and lead me to that which is meant to be. May the way of Destiny guide me to what I seek..."

[OOC: P.S. Any observers are welcome. But heed the Surgeon General's Warning: Getting involved is not recommended and can cause side effects of headaches, nausea, internal bleeding, intense pain, coma, sexual side-effects, and death. Please see your doctor (and Silv and I) before taking.]


Bringing the light into the darkness.
Bringing the darkness into the light.
ライトと暗闇絡みあました

[ January 08, 2005, 04:52 PM: Message edited by: The 404 Link ]

[Wyborn]

The branches of the trees Fury walked upon, walked atop, did not bend. Though he walked only on the thinnest of twigs, sometimes supporting himself on little more than patches of leaves, there was no warping under his foot. He leaped from treetop to treetop without any movement other than himself, and was completely silent.

Xu, of course, had no idea that he was above her like some kind of deathly sentinel. Had she looked up and seen his form, the wolverine-ish cast of his features, the glint of his many teeth in the moonlight, the sheen that his dark brown fur cast, the way his forest green eyes literally pulsated with light in tune with his heartbeat, her first reaction would most likely have been to either strike him with an arrow or flee for her life. An ironic thing: though he stood above her and followed her, Fury had no interest in the Hylian girl. As far as he was concerned, she might as well have not been there at all.

She isn't here yet...she will be, though.

He had managed to follow her for as long as he had known her, able to find her as naturally as he could find his own hands. She left no trail for him, rarely even giving him a sign that she left from their meeting places, but he always found her again, and it was like she had never left. Rarely, when he was very lucky, he would get somewhere before she did. This was one of those times.

His eyes never even turned down towards Xu: blazing terribly, they peered into the mists that permeated the air, watching the spaces between the trees. He looked for some gust of cold, or a wind, or something...or nothing at all. In any case, she woudl be there.

And whatever she did, he would watch.

OoC: Just a spectator for what I expect to end up as a bit of a fight. Fury'll stay out of your way, no problem - like has been said, he's just here to watch. -OoC

[ December 07, 2004, 12:23 AM: Message edited by: R Wyborn Flagg - an omen ]

[SilverWind]

[OOC: I don’t think anyone really cares about story timelines, but this will take place before meeting Brin for the first time, for no reason other than I feel like it. >_>()
I have these little moods that utterly changes my writing style. This is one of the typical Meredia ones, I suppose. This post strikes me as surprisingly brief, and I apologise if it’s not up to par.]


Below the ever-flowing falls in the wood lay a pool where the waters converged. The edge of the pool closest to the cascade churned and frothed and was generally very busy, but this smoothed down with distance so that only the tiniest ripples ever reached the furthest shore. Upon the pool’s surface, between the shore and the ever-flowing torrent was a woman, and she moved there as if it was perfectly natural that she be there, as if she had always been there. She was the water and the air, and she was dancing.

Meredia danced, silver eyes sometimes closed, sometimes open, footsteps always sure. There was no pattern to her steps though they appeared to have some sense to them, as if they had been arranged beforehand by some natural order. Around her, maintained by a wind more gentle than a newborn’s breath, the white mists drew about and shrouded her ethereal figure in the evening light.

Then, almost abruptly, the movement halted, the dance drew to an end. The blue-haired woman sank into the waters of the pool without a ripple, remained there for a moment longer than should have been possible, and then longer still. She may have stayed there under the water peacefully for a time beyond reckoning had the wind not then rose, murmured quietly, and caressed the surface of the water with its touch. With it, the blue-haired woman seemed to be roused, came up to the air and scanned around studiously, almost excessively. The girl by the shore—Hylian, by the shape of her ears—was spotted almost immediately, but Meredia continued looking, scanning the tall, leafy trees behind the girl...

Failing to find anyone else, Meredia’s eyes returned again to the girl, and she began to stride across the water–like a normal individual, with body and white robes halfway in the water, though neither touched the bottom of the pool–to the shore where the girl was waiting.

Waiting… for me?

If Meredia wondered if the girl had seen her dance, she did not appear abashed because of it. Instead, as she approached the girl, those observing could see that her eyes gazed absorbingly—inquisitively?—at the Hylian. This look served as some form of wary greeting from the maiden in the water, who stopped walking nearly three meters from the shore but looked poised to move. Whether she stay or leave hinged upon the next action of this red-haired individual, and she waited to see what it would be.

Trust, after all, was not something familiar to Meredia.

[The Missing Link]

[OOC: Bah -- Length of pose never implies quality of pose. It's just fine, and I'm already contemplating ideas on this one. Will write up a reply soon. :>]

[The Missing Link]

As Xu stepped lightly through the woods, her soft-soled shoes trading soft whispers with the soft ground beneath them, her verdant eyes were cast down, watching as the patches of grass slowly make their pilgrimage past her. Her eyes really weren’t looking for anything in particular, at least not yet. A town off in the distance supposedly laid hidden and quiet from much of the bustled world, but that was not for several leagues away, and so there was nothing but trees, ground, and moss to entertain her silent eyes as she weaved about through the tree trunks. Thus, as if cast into self-illusion they saw nothing of interest in the greying night skies, drowning into the inky blackness that would soon overtake all that sought to dwell in the forest this night.

It would not be her eyes that would catch the first inkling of notice of the water maiden. The sound of the barely audible disturbances upon the water were that which were first heard, but the red-haired girl did not think to pay heed. Simple bandits could be taken care of with her skill, and those others would not pay too much interest in her, so neither would she in them.

Gradually the sound diminished and reduced to quiet once again, but still Xu paid no attention to the decaying sounds, not yet deciding upon the definitiveness of an unopposed danger to her personage. Her intentions, however, regardless of their profound defence through her resolve and perhaps stubbornness, could never truly show the true mark of an her personality; rather than placing stock in such fleeting and false images of action, she timely decided that her eyes should at least yield respect to she whom apparently Xu was interrupting.

With a unleavened sigh, she finally pulled her gaze to the origins of the initial detection of the unnatural disturbance, and so it would appear that there was another that had decided to take claim to the forest in the chilly eve, preparing for the cold of the solstice soon to be upon them. The gaze of Meredia was well-received, free from hostile intent, and it was returned with a simple, informal, and hardly courtly smirk with the least expensive of nods being paid in reciprocal form. Perhaps it was the reminiscent remains of her violet-turned blood, her new yet quite old life, the core unchanging fibres of who she truly was, that kept her from showing further regard to the lady, but it was the simplicity of her upbringings, her traditional mannerisms, that gave her urge to pay the stranger a polite and respectful regard in its advent.

With that encounter passed by, she continued walking upstream alongside the river’s shoulder banks, taking a slight diversion from such to climb the gradual hill provided for wayward travellers to ascend the waterfall. Trudging across the dampened rocks making up the hillside by the falling water, a sudden lurch formed within her stomach, rising quickly as if in emergency to her mind. Her feet paused in their action, seeking now to find balance for her body among the rocks about her. Eyes narrow momentarily as she turns her head quickly back in the direction of the blue-haired woman whom she had just passed, her back-length hair flying from onset to denouement in its new resting place upon her shoulder. She looks closely at the simple woman, inspecting her features, as if her name were written somewhere secretively upon her person and ‘twas her mission to covertly find it.

White gown, blue hair, shorter than Link, but only by some... and silver... Link probably had described those silver eyes to her a thousand and one times over the course of their courtship alone, so affected he had been by them. He would describe them as if the Muses themselves had assembled in formation in her irises, ready to declare war upon whosever heart might stand in the light of them.

There can’t be any doubt then...

There was that feeling of correctness, that feeling when one knows—albeit having only obtained evidence of circumstantial nature—the answer without any sort of questions rising to the occasion, the very question marks afraid of being hammered into exclamation.

“Crystanthia?” she called out to the girl.

[OOC: Tag. You’re it.]


Bringing the light into the darkness.
Bringing the darkness into the light.
ライトと暗闇絡みあました

[ January 08, 2005, 04:53 PM: Message edited by: The 404 Link ]

[The Missing Link]

bump

[The Missing Link]

Bump, take two.


"There are some who call me... Link?"
"Carpe Gaium Domesticum!" (Seize the Cucco!)
Zelda: The Grand Adventures | Triforce MUCK
ザ行方不明リンク
悪いユウモアの賢人

[SilverWind]

[EDIT: Done, but I'll post it up tomorrow, after running it by someone. Phew, it's late. X_X Sorry about the delay.]

[SilverWind]

[OOC: Please pardon me for twisting Fury partially into it, but after some thought, it’s what I should do. ...Oh, and I'm very, very sorry for the delay. T_T ... And I don't really like this post. But now I'm whining. *hits self* ^_^() Sorry, sorry!]


The gaze of Meredia was well-received, free from hostile intent, and it was returned with a simple, informal, and hardly courtly smirk with the least expensive of nods being paid in reciprocal form.

Perhaps some would have taken offence at the brief and curt nod, but as for Meredia, the action, being unsubstantial, was ignored; the girl, upon leaving, was dismissed—not forgotten, for Meredia could not forget per se, but all of the above thoughts trickled away, flowing into the darker crevices of the maiden's mind. There were other things to focus on.

Meredia turned once more to the trees, searching, peering inquisitively at every mossy branch and unfurled leaf. She knew instinctively that it was futile to use her ears, as sensitive as they were, and in this she was right; in a few brief moments, she was rewarded with the sight of forest green eyes, unbelievably large, yet silently, perfectly hidden amongst the verdant hues of the leaves.

Fury!

With that recognition came a smile to the maiden's face, and it in turn was followed by a lighthearted laugh that would seem like a complete change in her character to unknowing observers. However, the delight that so casually shone from Meredia's features as she broke into a run towards the woods had always, always been there for the person she was heading for, the person who waited—

"Crystanthia?"

The call pierced the air, and Meredia faltered in mid-step, freezing in position just short of her destination. Though she was unfamiliar with the voice, she didn't have to turn around in order to be sure that it was the copper-haired girl that had passed by only moments before. As she stood there, still looking unblinkingly up at the person in the trees, her mind meticulously traced back the origins of that particular name, where it had come from, who had given it to her, the nature of her relationship with that particular man...

...And, with caution and distrust seeping into her features, Meredia recalled what he had thought of the person in front of her.

If the girl had seen Fury...

Slowly, Meredia turned around and studied the features of the one who stood there. The girl's eyes—doubtlessly from countless hours of archery practice—had indeed become fixated on something, someone in the forest. And, written so clearly on the girl's face, the all too familiar word expressed itself in combinations of surprise, shock and horror.

Beast.

In Meredia's mind pooled a hundred, a thousand other faces, faces twisted in contempt, disgust, rage. Always, always with those looks, with that word came the violence.

All it took was a single movement, a tiny, insignificant twitch from Xu for Meredia to spring into action.

Instantly fierce, Meredia's arm snapped up and in one fluid motion, it clawed the air before her. Simultaneously, not so much in obedience to her movements as they were intimately synchronized to them, a mass of water swelled up upon the surface of the formerly calm pool, drew up several meters high, then struck the Hylian girl's body. Although the direct intent of the attack was not to cause pain but to divert attention, it was a blow sharp enough at the very least to cause the crimson haired girl to stagger and break her gaze on the person amongst the trees. To Xu, it would have appeared entirely unprovoked, if not also completely and utterly insane.

Drenched in water, the Hylian girl had relatively little time to react before Meredia was upon her, delivering a sharp strike to her head and body. Where she struck, the water that still clung onto the girl crystallized into ice.

If Xu was looking, she would be able to see that Meredia's eyes now flashed fiercely metallic in the light. If the blue haired woman had ever appeared serene and calm before, it was virtually impossible to tell so now. An image had been seared into Meredia's mind, that of an arrow lodged deep into a shockingly large, sorrowful emerald eye. She would not forget it.

"Leave," Meredia said. She did not raise her voice. Instead, the prickly twinge from the ice that clung to Xu's body flared into a searing pain.

"Now."


[>_> Both Link the Sixth and Xu have used that word in thinking of Fury, they have! But ah, if I haven't made it clear, you should know Mer jumped to conclusions, and Xu probably wasn't going to do something like put an arrow into one of Fury's eyes. ^_^

...But now that that's said, nii-kun... FIGHT MEEE~ >_>]

[The Missing Link]

So Xu’s keen eyes had spotted the animal-like visage far in the distance, standing perched within the tree, perhaps thinkably out of sight in his mine. Xu's eyes had been trained, not just by skill but by magic. Whenever she held the bow, her eyes had felt the magic of her fingertips, throbbed with the passion of magic. It was as if she could see things no others could ever see. She had become so used to that feeling, holding the bow in her arms was no longer necessary.

And the end result was that she had seen him, watching, his eyes scanning the very scene unfolding about her, merely from the perspective and mind of another. Normally, to see such a sight, from one of her heritage and background, it would have been unprecedented and impossible, unable to ever be achieved. She had been then just shy of a noble, residing upon Lon Lon Ranch in the prime spotlight of Hyrulian society. She had been one of the most gawked at femmes in the country, and she had almost fallen prey to many of the men’s wily desires and attempted seductions. But they never felt like the right one for her, and somehow she had held out despite them and their desire to persuade her father, and magically one day her childhood friend had returned to her lap suddenly, herself completely taken off guard. It was the beginning of a long chain of memories.

But he hadn't come home that day alone, it had seemed. He had followed a girl with blue hair into the ranch; that was the moment Phalon had first seen her. How it interconnected, him and her, had boggled her mind, but he did have an explanation. Somehow it had made sense in the end. There had been a disturbing battle, something Phalon hadn’t expected to see in her own home. Such emotion had stormed through the ranch as never before felt, even within her own now-tortured mind, that all the chickens retreated to their nests in the coop, the horses galloping into the fields from the stables. It was never to be resolved at that moment, for the one she had just spied came and--whether it was a rescue or a distraction, she would never know--took the girl away.

Such bittersweet memories.

The first rekindled moments of the friendship of her and her husband, if indeed he could be called that, faded quite suddenly as a slap of water had hit her back unexpectingly. Her limbs pushed her body inches forward, her eyes forgetting the scene moments prior. Mind distracted and unfurled into chaos, it took the lyremage a few seconds to notice that she was suddenly wet, nearly drenched from head to toe. Her entire backside, and even part of the front of her blouse was given the gift of the annointment of water.

"How in the...?"

Xu would be unable to forgive herself for losing herself in daydream because of the next few moments. Having lost track of both the being far off in the distance as well as her quarry for the evening, a strict disobeyment of her own laws as an archer-hunter (and even common sense!), Xu failed to see the tackle Meredia had coming to her. The blue-haired one was soon atop her, striking and hitting her, leaving small sheets of ice embedded into her silky flesh, a chill seeking her very bones as if to crack them under its frigid temperature.

Meredia then backed away, seemingly nonchalantly, but despite her pain Xu could spy a stiffness to her that implied a sense of need, a sense of danger, of urgency. That coupling with the girl’s metallic eyes and tense body generated suspicion by the wagonload.

“Leave...”

“Now.”

Her head and shoulder throbbed in pain from the ice eating away at the flesh, preventing the flexibility of her skin from stretching it properly. It felt as if the icemage before her were seeking to twist the ice with her very hands, contorting her skin into even more painful configurations. This wouldn't do at all...

The lyremage took her lyre, an unconscious and unplanned frown appearing on her face, and holding it up as far as her shoulder would allow, her fingers touched the bottommost strands of wire in a run of eight notes, its pace just behind the heels of a bolero. Her arm ached terribly as she played, the small reverberations of the lyre carrying over to her lyrearm to where some of the ice daggers had been placed. As her song warmed with emotion, its essence permeating the air, so too did the forest about Meredia and Xu. Xu's entire body filled with the warmth of spirit, the intensity of fire, the heat of passion, and a translucent red flame engulfed Xu's body as she played, heating her, warming her, keeping her in its grace. As she stood within its flickering reach, the ice upon the surfaces of her body melted and evaporated into steam. Tension upon her skin had been relieved, and her body had been restored.

But as she slitted her eyes open, she knew there was still more to worry about. “Crystanthia...” she whispered. There was a slight tone of irritation in her voice, but otherwise neutral.

Once the last of the ice had disappeared into the confines of the air, Xu began adding accidentals into her song, switching over into a diminished key, the most treacherous of all scales or so it seemed to the musician. The switch alone was enough to make the sky rumble in fright, the rainclouds scattering to destinations unknown, seeking other populations to which to charity their gifts.

The animal was no longer in sight; indeed, she was disoriented enough that her sense of bearing was impossible without her star charts. She knew them well enough, but these longitudes never before travelled.

The song pierced the thick air, augmenting it with the darkness of the wicked key. The world began to disappear, fading to black slowly as one by one the stars in the sky were distinguished, the leaves being consumed by magic. Soon only a local perimeter of visibility remained, a hemisphere perhaps fifteen metres in diameter splicing the ground in a perfect circle. The one she had formerly spied was forgotten, for now there was a greater need, a greater attention spotted within her ring of shadow.

“All that concerns me at this moment remains visible to you and I, Crystanthia,” Xu said scoldingly, albeit directly. “Your presumptions are incorrect. I wish not to fight you; I wish only to find you. You are the only link to him that I know of any depth.”

If this is what it takes...

The child of Destiny analysed the child of the water critically, her eyes examining her features, noting so many things at once. None of this she had seen before now, yet it was at the same time so intimately familiar to her, as if she had known all of this a priori, as if her body had once been hers and had fragmented from her spirit.

...to earn your respect...

She played the last note of her song.

“You, however, are leaving me little choice.”

Spinning around, she curled her lyre into her arm, and a full circle later she let it loose of it as if it were a frisbee, tossing it with all her might. It flew with all due speed towards the watermage, towards Crystanthia, but before it reached her torso, it took a dip towards the earth, as if guided by some unseen law of physics or nature, dropping like bricks into the soft soil, embedding itself there sharply.

Then there was light. Blinding light.

...then so be it.

As the light faded to reveal the illusionary sphere of midnight once more, Xu could not be seen. Crystanthia’s eyes unblurred quickly, more quickly than was expected, but not quick enough. An arm was flung about Crystanthia’s neck, and a dart with some liquid residing upon its tip was just millimetres away.

But it was not Xu.

She was Aekorra the Sheikah.

“You have one more chance. We talk now, or we fight until we are tired.”


Bringing the light into the darkness.
Bringing the darkness into the light.
ライトと暗闇絡みあました

[SilverWind]

[Revised is below.]

[ January 30, 2005, 10:43 PM: Message edited by: SilverWind ]

[The Missing Link]

[Yay ^^]

[ January 30, 2005, 10:46 PM: Message edited by: The Minish Link ]

[SilverWind]

[ ]

[ January 30, 2005, 10:50 PM: Message edited by: SilverWind ]

[SilverWind]

For a brief, horrible moment as the darkness enclosed Meredia and the other girl, choking them in its claustrophobic field of view, something akin to panic screamed through the blue-haired maiden's mind.

She couldn't see Fury.

Her eyes darted back and forth, trying yet failing to pierce the shadowy domain around them. Her concentration on the task caused her to fail in noticing that the Hylian was now speaking to her, or that she still continued to play some strange spell-song on her lyre—at the moment, Meredia would likely have overlooked a direct frontal attack, so frantic was her search.

And then that split second of anguish was over. Abandoning her sight and probing outwards into the false night, Meredia felt the invisible environment by way of her other senses. And through these alternate means, she easily sensed Fury's being again, connected with his pulse, still there, still safe. Yet, while most others would have been calmed down by similar realizations, knowing that Fury was alright did not allow the blue-haired woman to feel a sense of relief. Oh no, anything but that.

Could the Hylian girl see outside of the sphere? Could she sense things outside of it? Was she going to hurt Fury this way, expecting her opponent to have no means to prevent her from doing so? Or were there others out there who were working in tandem with the girl, who would use the darkness as a cover for their attack? No matter which alternative was true, she was trapped, deceived.

Finally focusing again on the girl in front of her, Meredia was just in time to observe the lyremage cast her instrument up into the air. Making no move to dodge it, her eyes locked onto the silver and gold lyre as it embedded itself into the ground. They did not lose focus, even as a brilliant white light lit up the surroundings, temporarily overcoming their sphere of sight and the darkness beyond.

And then an arm came around and gripped onto the blue-haired woman's neck, and a dart was placed threateningly beside it. These things were not so terrible, however, in comparison to just how close she was being held against another person's body and the close contact she was in with it, fortunately separated by layers of fabric.

"You have one more chance. We talk now, or we fight until we are tired."

The one within the Sheikah's grip did not respond. She was far past the realm of voicing her speech, if ever she had actually been comfortably within it. The pause was long, almost insultingly so, and Aekorra could hardly have been described as patient in waiting for an answer.

Then, Meredia gave her response.

Namely, by commencing to ram her head back into Aekorra's face.

Even as Meredia's body tensed for the move—she made no effort to hide it—the Sheikah's sharp senses detected the oncoming blow and unflinchingly, she lashed out with her liquid-coated dart in response. Yet where the metal tip of the weapon should have pierced soft skin, it only hit empty air and continued going. Her target's upper body had faded out of grasp, the form spun out and around to face her, and Aekorra had only a second to glimpse the still reforming, resolute face of her opponent as Meredia's hands enclosed on the arm that was still striking, and from that very momentum guided the dart deep into the Sheikah's own shoulder.

Not pausing for a single moment, Meredia knocked the girl aside and glided backwards, feet barely touching the ground as she backed over to the lyre that had temporarily been abandoned by its owner. Aekorra lashed out with her whip in retaliation, not yet feeling the nauseating effects of the dart in her shoulder, striking accurately and hitting flesh. The first cut of razors drew blood from the maiden's side, tore cloth, yet the second lash of the whip caused the weapon to jam in the maiden's side, trapped in ice which the Sheikah then had to tug free.

But when the blue-haired maiden reached down and scooped up the lyre, seemingly unaffected by the weapon embedded in her torso, the Sheikah stopped sceptically, almost completely sure that the other was unable to play such an instrument—the slightly incorrect positioning in which it was handled gave it away. Violet eyes inspected the instrument in her opponent's hands more closely... and that was when Meredia's earlier pause was explained.

The lyre was coated with a layer of condensation and dew, dripping in water. At the touch of the blue-haired one, the instrument became coated with a thick layer of ice.

A hand was raised up close to the lyre. The fingers did not take on the positioning of a harpist about to play an enchanting melody; Meredia's were more like claws.

There wasn't even a pause for horrified realization.

Faster than she herself could register, Aekorra reached into the pouch at her side, hurled from it a tiny piece of red tinted stone at the abducted lyre to defrost it before damage could be done. But too late.

Even as the spellstone hit the frame of the lyre, Meredia brought her fingers down violently on the iced strings, tearing and shattering each and every one of them in one sweep of her arm.

TinkTINKtinktinktinktinkTINKtinkTWANG.

And so it went, all twenty-five in a jarringly beautiful, terrible glissando. The rigidly frozen strings did not, could not vibrate their natural tones as they shattered from the force, but all but the last gave out a protesting, delicate terminal note as it snapped like an icicle in Meredia's hands.

The final string—the only one to defrost to any degree—sounded clearly in the air, and even as this note held Meredia began to move, charging Aekorra, shifting the blunt remains of the lyre to one hand so as to strike off her head with it. But the note finally died as the arc of steel came swinging down at the girl, and with it the magical effects of the spellstone, fused and intensified by the energy of unintended melody, came into play.

An explosion erupted from the center of the lyre, a wall of fire so instantaneous and intense that by the time the frame of the musical instrument hit the Sheikah it had turn into a molten, liquid form. The scalding metal burnt onto the Sheikah's face and neck, burnt onto the hand of the one who was striking with it, caused both to writhe in pain even as the explosion distanced them, sent them rolling on the ground and threw both outside of the tiny sphere of vision.

And then the flames.

And then the flames from the explosion engulfed both of them, consumed flesh and fabric and the ground and the air and they could smell their surroundings inflaming, hear the crackling of the trees and plants burning, all being consumed in the magic's wrath. Smoke and embers drifted into the tiny hemisphere of vision en masse from the darkness, made it as clouded and lightless as the rest of the expanse.

The woods were burning.

And amidst the chaos stood one woman screaming, screaming and burning and boiling, summoning to her a torrent of waves to extinguish everything, extinguish it all and sweep away all that opposed her along with the flames.

[The Missing Link]

[OOC: Very late and several bricks short. But I think the elegance of this post makes it worthwhile. I certainly hope you believe it such the same.]

This was not the way it was meant to be.

Aekorra had the strange sense that her world was tumbling down into tragedy much akin to an old play of two lovers torn apart by death. There was an absence of light for those few moments, when all hope seemed to flee from her being and find an absorbed home in other entities within the world. It were as if the ghosts of her ancestors were abandoning her, their silvery wisps slinking into the heavens, pulling themselves away from her reach so that their recanted blessings upon their Sheikah priestess might never be obtained once more. It was a moment where the world as she knew it had ended, and the fiery pits of the nether realms had come into her own, seeking to taking its dominion over all things, all souls. It was a moment of doubt, of helplessness, of solitude.

But it was only a moment. Aekorra knew better.

Luck had turned its fickle face away from her, but her skill and her might were not lost. Indeed, ‘twas folly to even believe that anything aside the fickle graces had left her spirit by its loneliness. Undeniably, ‘twas writ in the passages of their most sacred text, “Abandonment only holds but temporal strength when opposed with strength of will, for is nary but illusion in its wiles, and the most crafty sage will lo have sight in its transparency.” How ironic the subtle notes of a book never truly read by her eyes yet nonetheless imbued into crimson blood would come to her in times of need to shatter the spell of emotion cast only in her own very mind? Yet irony it was not, for instinct defies all coincidence.

Despite uncountable losses and infernal flame consuming her frame, Aekorra mentally stopped all reckoning of time within her mind to find the warm blanket of inner peace, wrapping herself in it as it caressed her with orchid and jasmine serenity. Conscious thoughts of panic became betrayed by the traitorous whispers of calmness. Cinnamon fire became muddled with the aroma of cornmeal and ice-tipped hazelnut.

Violet eyes were once again allowed sight through the translucent orange omnipresent, but her eyes conjoined with mind were disconnected and aloof from the fire, for only rational thought could become her saviour in such tragic circumstance. The priestess quickly cast her arm into her pouch of stones and—whether it was by luck, magical touch, or perhaps simply by some unworldly sense—pulled out a piece of siltstone kissed with blue light, and she quickly knelt, ramming her hand with rock into the ground, squeezing it into nothingness. From within came the baptism of heavenly water splashing upon her face and flooding her with rejuvenation and feeling that had been until hence tossed conveniently aside.

It was then when the poison that had been carelessly self-inflicted into her arteries lurched within her, its effects brought forth by the sudden sensations overwhelming her form. Already doubled over, her stomach writhed with the onslaught of nausea and forced her insides to empty her insides as she vomited upon the now barren scorched earth below her. Her muscles melted with mild weakness and her face paled slightly, as her previous meals splattered upon the emotionless ground. She refocused her eyes on the sight laid upon her, fighting off the dizziness induced, pushing aside the poison’s effects. As part of her ancient training, she had been forced to build resistance to all the forms of poison they regularly used, but even then, full immunity was rare to be obtained. Shaking her head, she pulled herself out of what would be the first of several bouts of light-headedness.

With sudden calculated precision, she fixated her attention upon the water maiden and noticed her situation. She appeared to be in a frenzied alarm as she seemed to be summoning her own power as if to provide some semblance of sanctuary to the woods about them. Even then, the would-be torrents of water seemed unlikely to be able to accomplish their mission, the flames only seeming to rise higher and higher with every passing moment.

The forest cannot be saved, Aekorra knew instantly. Even if the flames are put to rest, the forest will perish with flood or drought. It is doomed to failure.

I must find sanctuary.

Yet still, her thoughts drifted to the blue-haired girl; was she not worth saving as well? Though temporally an adversary to the priestess, Aekorra knew deep down that not all of her actions and emotions were of true malicious intent—or at least could not be if she were brought to the awareness of the truth...

I must take Crystanthia with me in my flight.

She flicked her wrist sharply, pulling forth a dart from her cache. It shaft was the colour of midnight, and she knew its composition: two parts lichen, two parts widow’s willow, one part eveningdew; it was one of the strongest sleeping potions their tribe had ever discovered. It seemed quite rare for one of the holy vestiges of the religious matriarchs to carry such a strong poison, but even they, in their oath to the crown, were subject to the same extremes as the rest of their own tribe.

Aekorra had the advantage of surprise and distraction. Also the power of stealth and secrecy. She was the assassin-priestess without the objective of death, and her powers were both terrible and awe-inspiring.

All she needed was to still the fury of the maiden; therein was her chance.

She frowned however; the maiden was indeed frantic with fury, her own body still flaming as she drowned the world with insanity. The sleeping powder might not be enough to buy her silence; the ante needed raising. Taking from a second pouch a single blood red leaf of shadowsbane, she caressed the tip of dart with the paralysing juices upon the leaf, even letting her own left hand drift into numbness before shaking the leaf from her immobile fingers.

She aimed sharply, her mind freeing itself from all events sans her sole target, the destination of her icy calculation. With yet one more flick of her wrist—Please, Din,—the dart sailed free from her fingertips—may my aim be true,—and into the back of the neck of the girl—and may my visions be shared with yours.


Bringing the light into the darkness.
Bringing the darkness into the light.
ライトと暗闇絡みあました

[ February 23, 2005, 12:00 AM: Message edited by: The Minish Link ]